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UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
AT  LOS  ANGELES 


RELIQUES    OF 


iicicnt  l^^nnliolj  l^nEttp, 


CONSISTING  OF 

OLD   HEROIC  BALLADS,  SONGS,  AND  OTHER 
PIECES   OF   OUR    EARLIER    POETS, 

TOGETHER    WITH    SOME   FEW 
OF   LATER   DATE, 

B  V      T  H  ()  MAS      PERCY.      D.  D  , 

BISHOP   OF   DROMORE, 

EDITED,   WITH   A  GENERAL   INTRODUCTION,   ADDITIONAL 
PREFACES,   NOTES,   ETC.,   BY 

HENRY    B.   WHEATLEY,    F.S.A. 

IN   THREE   VOLUMES. 

VOL.   I. 


L  O  N  D  O  iN  : 

BICKERS    AND    SON,     I,    LFJCESTER    SQUARE. 

1876. 


CHISWICK    PRESS  :  —PRINTED    BY   WHITTINGHAM    AND   WILKINS, 
TOOKS   COURT,    CHANCERY   LANE. 


./ 


CONTENTS    OF    VOLUME    THE   FIRST. 


gniTOR'S  Preface    .... 

GENERAL  INTRODUCTION. 

The  Minstrels 

Ballads  and  Ballad  Writers 

Imitators  and  Forgers 

Authenticity  of  Certain  Ballads 

Preservers  of  the  Ballads     . 

Life  of  Percy     . 

Folio  MS.  and  the  Rcliques 

Ballad  Literature  since  Percy 

Dedications        .... 
Advertisement  to  the  fourth  edition 
Preface      ..... 


Page 
ix 


Xlll 

xxiv 
xliv 

xlviii 
Iviii 
Ixxi 

Ixxxi 
xci 

I 

4 
7 


BOOK   THE   FIRST. 

1.  The  ancient  Ballad  of  Chevy-chase 

2.  The  Battle  of  Otterbourne 

Illustration  of  the  Names  in  the  foregoing  ballads 
The  Jew's  Daughter.     A  Scottish  Ballad 
Sir  Cauline ........ 

Copy  from  the  Folio  MS.      .... 

Edward,  Edward.     A  Scottish  Ballad   . 
6.   King  Estmere      ....... 

On  the  word  Termagant        .... 

Sir  Patrick  Spence.     A  Scottish  Ballad 
Robin  Hood  and  Guy  of  Cisborne 
9.  An  Elegy  on  Henry  Fourth,  Earl  of  Northumberland 
by  Skelton       ....... 

10.  The  Tower  of  Doctrine,  by  Stephen  Hawes  . 


7- 
8. 


19 

35 
51 

54 
61 
76 
82 

85 
96 

98 

102 

"7 
127 


vi  CONTENTS. 

11.  The  Child  of  Elle         .         .         .         . 

Fragment  from  the  FoHo  MS. 

12.  Edom  o'  Gordon.     A  Scottish  Ballad   . 

Captain  Carre,  from  the  Folio  MS. 


Page 

131 
138 

140 
148 


BOOK   THE   SECOND. 
( Containing  Ballads  that  illustrate  Shakespeare) 

1.  Adam    Bell,   Clym  of  the   Clough,  and    William  of 

Cloudesley      ....... 

2.  The  aged  Lover  renounceth  Love,  by  Lord  Vaux 
—3.  Jephthah  judge  of  Israel       .... 

4.  A  Robyn  Jolly  Robyn  .... 

5.  A  Song  to  the  lute  in  musicke,  by  R.  Edwards 

6.  King  Cophetua  and  the  Beggar-maid    . 

7.  Take  thy  old  cloak  about  thee 

8.  Willow,  Willow,  Willow 

9.  Sir  Lancelot  du  Lake  . 

10.  Corydon's  Farewell  to  Phillis 
The  Ballad  of  constant  Susanna 

11.  Gernutus  the  Jew  of  Venice 

12.  The  passionate  Shepherd  to  his  Love,  by  Marlowe 
The  Nymph's  Reply,  by  Sir  W.  Raleigh 

iT^.  Titus  Andronicus's  Complaint 

14.  Take  those  lips  away  .... 

15.  King  Leir  and  his  three  daughters 

16.  Youth  and  Age,  by  Shakespeare  . 

17.  The  Frolicksome  Duke,  or  the  Tinker's  good  Fortune 

18.  The  Friar  of  Orders  Gray,  by  Percy     . 


153 
179 

182 

185 
187 
189 

195 
199 

204 

209 

209 

211 

220 

223 

224 

230 

231 

237 
238 

242 


5- 
6. 

1- 


BOOK  THE  THIRD. 

The  more  modern  Ballad  of  Chevy-chace      .         .         .     249 

Illustration  of  the  Northern  Names        .         .         .     263 

Death's  final  Conquest,  by  James  Shirley       .         .         .     264 

The  Rising  in  the  North       .         .         .         .         .         .266 

Copy  from  the  Folio  MS 274 

Northumberland  betrayed  by  Douglas  .         .         -279 

Copy  from  the  Folio  MS.      .....     289 

My  Mind  to  me  a  Kingdom  is,  by  Sir  Edward  Dyer      .     294 
The  Patient  Countess,  by  W.  Warner   .         .         .         .298 

Dowsabell,  by  M.  Drayton  .....     304 


CONTENTS.  vii 

Page 

8.  The  Farewell  to  Love,  from  Beaumont  and  Fletcher     .     310 

9.  Ulysses  and  the  Syren,  by  S.  Daniel     .         .         .         -311 

10.  Cupid's  Pastime,  by  Davison         .         .         .         .         -314 

11.  The  character  of  a  happy  life,  by  Sir  H,  Wotton  .         -317 

12.  Gilderoy.     A  Scottish  Lallad        .         .         .         .         .318 

13.  Winifreda    .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .         -323 

14.  The  Witch  of  Wokey 325 

15.  Bryan  and  Pereene.      A  West  Indian  Ballad,  by  Dr. 

Grainger  ........     328 

16.  Gentle  River,  Gentle  River.   Translated  from  the  Spanish     33 1 

17.  ^Vlcanzor  and  Zayda,  a  Moorish  Tale     ....     338 


APPENDIX  I. 

An  Essay  on  the  Ancient  Minstrels  in  England   .         .         .     343 
Notes  and  Illustrations       .......     382 


APPENDIX    II. 

On  the  Origin  of  the  English  Stage,  &c 43 1 

Index  to  Vol.  1 459 

ERRATA. 

Page  27,  Note  f,  after  Fit  read  "  see  vol.  2,  p.  182." 
Page  76,  add  *.;^*  at  end  oi  Sir  Cauline. 


EDITOR'S    PREFACE. 


kJ-?^J^^^^  undertakin<T^  the  supervision  of  a  new 
^S^  ^^^)  ^^itic)n  of  the  Reliqiics  of  Ancie?it  Eng- 
7^}^^  lish  Poetry,  I  felt  that  no  safer  or  better 
guidance  could  be  followed  than  that 
of  Bishop  Percy  himself;  and  as  he  always  strove, 
in  the  several  editions  published  by  himself,  to  em- 
body therein  the  sum  of  the  knowledge  of  his  times, 
so  I,  following  at  a  distance,  have  endeavoured,  by 
gathering  from  many  quarters  particulars  published 
since  his  death,  to  make  his  book  still  more  worthy 
of  the  great  reputation  it  has  acquired. 

Each  edition  published  during  the  lifetime  of  the 
author  contained  large  additions  and  corrections;  but 
since  the  publication  of  the  fourth  edition,  in  1794, 
no  changes  worth  mentioning  have  been  made,  with 
the  exception  of  such  as  occur  in  a  revision  brought 
out  by  the  Rev.  R.  A.  Willmott  in  1857.  His  object, 
however,  was  to  form  a  handy  volume,  and  he  there- 


X  EDITOR'S    PREFACE. 

fore  cleared  away  all  Percy's  Essays  and  Prefaces, 
and  added  short  notices  of  his  own,  founded  on 
Percy's  facts,  and,  in  some  instances,  on  recent 
information. 

The  desire  for  a  new  edition  of  the  Reliques  has 
more  particularly  grown  since  the  publication  of  the 
original  folio  MS.  in  1867,  and  I  trust  that  the 
readers  of  the  present  edition  may  feel  disposed  to 
accept  it  as  in  some  degree  satisfying  this  desire. 
I  In  the  preparation  of  the  present  edition,  the  whole 
of  Percy's  work  has  been  reprinted  from  his  fourth 
edition,  which  contains  his  last  touches ;  and  in 
order  that  no  confusion  should  be  occasioned  to 
the  reader,  all  my  notes  and  additions  have  been 
placed  between  brackets.  The  chief  of  these  are 
the  additional  prefaces  to  the  various  pieces,  the 
glossarial  notes  at  the  foot  of  the  page,  and  the 
collation  of  such  pieces  as  are  taken  from  the  folio 
MS.  The  complete  glossary,  which  will  be  appended 
to  the  third  volume,  might  seem  to  render  the  glos- 
sarial notes  unnecessary ;  but  there  may  be  some 
readers  who  will  find  them  useful.  With  regard  to 
the  pieces  taken  from  the  folio  MS.,  the  originals 
have  been  printed  after  Percy's  copies  in  those 
cases  which  had  undergone  considerable  alterations. 
Readers  have  now,  therefore,  before  them  complete 
materials  for  forming  an  opinion  as  to  the  use  the 
Bishop  made  of  his  manuscript. 

After  commencing  my  work,  I  found  that  to  treat 


EDITOR'S    PREFACE.  xi 

the  Essays  interspersed  throughout  the  book  as  the 
Prefaces  had  been  treated,  would  necessitate  so  many 
notes  and  corrections  as  to  cause  confusion ;  and  as 
the  Essays  on  the  EngHsh  Stage,  and  the  Metrical 
Romances,  are  necessarily  out  of  date,  the  trouble 
expended  would  not  have  been  repaid  by  the  utility 
of  the  result.  I  have,  therefore,  thrown  them  to 
the  end  of  their  respective  volumes,  where  they  can 
be  read  exactly  as  Percy  left  them. 

In  concluding  these  explanations,  I  have  much 
pleasure  in  expressing  my  thanks  to  those  friends 
who  have  assisted  me,  and  to  those  writers  with- 
out whose  previous  labours  mine  could  not  have 
been  performed,  more  particularly  to  Messrs.  Fur- 
nivall  and  Hales,  who  most  kindly  gave  me  per- 
mission to  use  any  part  of  their  edition  of  the  folio 
MS.  To  Mr.  Hales  I  am  also  indebted  for  many 
valuable  hints,  of  which  I  have  gladly  availed 
myself. 

Henry  B.  Wiieatley. 


GENERAL    INTRODUCTION. 


EVERAL  questions  of  general  interest 
have  arisen  for  discussion  by  the  editor 
durinor  the  work  of  revision.  Notes 
upon  these  have  been  brought  together, 
so  as  to  form  an  introduction,  which  it 
is  hoped  may  be  of  some  use  to  the  readers  of  the 
Reliqiies,  in  the  absence  of  an  exhaustive  compilation, 
which  has  yet  to  be  made.  Here  there  is  no  attempt 
at  completeness  of  treatment,  and  the  notes  are 
roughly  arranged  under  the  following  headings  : — 

The  Minstrels. 

Ballads  and  Ballad  Writers. 

Imitators  and  Forgers. 

Authenticity  of  certain  Ballads. 

Preservers  of  the  Ballads. 

Life  of  Percy. 

P^olio  MS.  and  the  Reliqiies. 

Ballad  Literature  since  Percy. 


Tin:    MiNSTRKLS. 

When   Percy  wrote  the  opening  sentence  in  his 
first  sketch  of  that  "  Essay  on  the  Ancient  ICnglish 


xlv  THE    MINSTRELS. 

Minstrels"  (1765),  which  was  the  foundation  of 
the  Hterature  of  the  subject,  he  Httle  expected  the 
severe  handhng  he  was  to  receive  from  the  furious 
Ritson  for  his  hasty  utterance.  His  words  were, 
.  ^  "  The  minstrels  seem  to  have  been  the  genuine 
successors  of  the  ancient  bards,  who  united  the 
arts  of  poetry  and  music,  and  sung  verses  to  the 
harp  of  their  own  composing."  The  bishop  was 
afterwards  convinced,  from  Ritson's  remarks,  that 
the  rule  he  had  enunciated  was  too  rigid,  and  in  the 
later  form  of  the  Essay  he  somewhat  modified  his 
language.  The  last  portion  of  the  sentence  then 
stood,  "  composed  by  themselves  or  others,"  and  a 
note  was  added  to  the  effect  that  he  was  "  wedded 
to  no  hypothesis." 

Sir  Walter  Scott  criticised  the  controversy  in  his 
interesting  article  on  Romance  in  the  supplement 
to  the  Encyclopaedia  Britannica,  where  he  wrote  : 
"  When  so  popular  a  department  of  poetry  has  at- 
tained this  decided  character,  it  becomes  time  to 
inquire  who  were  the  composers  of  these  numerous, 
lengthened,  and  once-admired  narratives  which  are 
called  metrical  romances,  and  from  whence  they 
drew  their  authority.  Both  these  subjects  of  dis- 
cussion have  been  the  source  of  great  controversy 
among  antiquarians  ;  a  class  of  men  who,  be  it  said 
with  their  forgiveness,  are  apt  to  be  both  positive 
and  polemical  upon  the  very  points  which  are  least 
susceptible  of  proof,  and  which  are  least  valuable  if 
the  truth  could  be  ascertained  ;  and  which,  therefore, 
we  would  gladly  have  seen  handled  with  more  dif- 
fidence and  better  temper  in  proportion  to  their  un- 
certainty." After  some  remarks  upon  the  essays  of 
Percy  and  Ritson,  he  added,  "  Yet  there  is  so  little 
room  for  this  extreme  loss  of  temper,  that  upon  a 
recent  perusal  of  both  these  ingenious  essays,  we 
were  surprised  to  find  that  the  reverend  editor  of  the 


THE    MINSTRELS.  xv 

Rcligucs  and  the  accurate  antiquary  have  differed 
so  very  Httle  as  in  essential  facts  they  appear  to 
have  done.  Quotations  are  indeed  made  by  both 
with  no  sparing  hand  ;  and  hot  arguments,  and  on 
one  side,  at  least,  hard  words  are  unsparingly  em- 
ployed ;  while,  as  is  said  to  happen  in  theological 
polemics,  the  contest  grows  warmer  in  proportion  as 
the  cfround  concerninir  which  it  is  carried  on 
is  narrower  and  more  insignificant.  In  reality 
their  systems  do  not  essentially  differ."  Ritson's 
great  object  was  to  set  forth  more  clearly  than 
Perc)-  had  done  that  the  term  minstrel  was  a  com- 
prehensive one,  including  the  poet,  the  singer,  and 
the  musician,  not  to  mention  the  fahlicr,  contcicr, 
jiiglnir,  haladin,  &c. 

Ritsondelii-dited  in  collectinir  instances  of  the  deera- 
dation  into  which  the  minstrel  gradually  sank,  and, 
with  little  of  Percy's  taste,  he  actually  preferred  the 
ballad-writer's  songs  to  those  of  the  minstrel.  Percy, 
on  the  other  hand,  gathered  together  all  the  mate- 
rial he  could  to  set  the  minstrel  in  a  eood  lieht. 
There  is  abundant  evidence  that  the  latter  was  rieht 
in  his  view  of  the  minstrel's  position  in  feudal  times, 
but  there  were  grades  in  this  profession  as  in  others, 
and  law-givers  doubtless  found  it  necessary  to  con-  \ 
trol  such  Bohem^ns  as  wandered  about  the  country  ' 
without  lic'enceT  The  minstrel  of  a  noble  house  wa^ 
distinguished  by  bearing  the  badge  of  his  lord  at- 
tached to  a  silver  chain,  and  just  as  in  later  times 
the  players  who  did  not  bear  the  name  of  some 
courtier  were  the  subjects  of  parliamentary  enact- 
ments, so  the  unattached  minstrels  were  treated  as 
vagrants.  Besides  the  minstrels  of  great  lords,  there 
were  others  attached  to  important  cities.  On  May  26, 
I  298,  as  appears  by  the  Wardrobe  accounts  of  lul- 
ward  I.,  that  king  gave  6^.  '^d.  to  Walter  Lovel,  the 
harper  of  Chichester,  whom    he    found    jjlaxing  the 


xvi  THE    MINSTRELS. 

harp  before  the  tomb  of  St.  Richard  in  the  Cathedral 
of  Chichester. 

Waits  were  formerly  attached  to  most  corpo- 
rate towns,  and  were,  in  fact,  the  corporation  min- 
strels. They  wore  a  livery  and  a  badge,  and  were 
formed  into  a  sort  of  guild.  No  one,  even  were  he 
an  inhabitant  of  the  town,  was  suffered  to  play  in 
public  who  was  not  free  of  the  guild.  Besides  sing- 
ing out  the  hours  of  the  night,  and  warning  the 
town  against  dangers,  they  accompanied  themselves 
with  the  harp,  the  pipe,  the  hautboy,  and  other  in- 
struments. They  played  in  the  town  for  the  gratifi- 
cation of  the  inhabitants,  and  attended  the  mayor  on 
all  state  occasions.  At  the  mayor's  feast  they  occu- 
pied the  minstrels'  gallery.  From  the  merchants' 
guild  book  at  Leicester,  it  appears  that  as  early  as 
1 3 14  "  Hugh  the  Trumpeter"  was  made  free  of  the 
guild,  and  in  1481  "  Henry  Howman,  a  harper,"  was 
also  made  free,  while  in  1499  "Thomas  Wylkyns, 
Wayte,"  and  in  161 2  "Thomas  Pollard,  musician," 
were  likewise  admitted.* 

Percy  collected  so  many  facts  concerning  the 
old  minstrels,  that  it  is  not  necessary  to  add  much 
to  his  stock  of  information,  especially  as,  though 
a  very  interesting  subject  in  itself,  it  has  really 
very  little  to  do  with  the  contents  of  the  Rcliques. 

The  knightly  Troubadours  and  Trouveres,  and 
such  men  as  Taillefer,  the  Norman  minstrel,  who 
at  the  battle  of  Hastings  advanced  on  horseback 
before  the  invading  host,  and  gave  the  signal  for 
attack  by  singing  the  Song  of  Roland,  who  died  at 
Roncesvalles,  had  little  in  common  with  the  authors 
of  the  ballads  in  this  book. 


*  See  article  on  "  Waits'  Badges,"  by  Llewellyn  Jewitt,  in  Reli- 
qua7y,  vol.  xii.  p.  145. 


THE    MINSTRELS.  xvii 

The  wise  son  of  Sirach  enumerates  amonor  those 
famous  men  who  are  worthy  to  be  praised  "  such  as 
found  out  musical  tunes,  and  recited  verses  in  writ- 
ing ;"  but,  according  to  Hector  Boece,  the  early 
Scottish  kings  thought  otherwise.  In  the  Laws  of 
Kenneth  II.,  ''bardis"  are  mentioned  with  vaga- 
bonds, fools,  and  idle  persons,  to  be  scourged  andi'' 
burnt  on  the  cheek,  unless  they  found  some  work  by 
which  to  live ;  and  the  same  laws  against  them  were, 
according  to  Boece,  still  in  force  in  the  reign  of  Mac- 
beth, nearly  two  centuries  later.  Better  times,  how- 
ever, came,  and  Scotch  bards  and  minstrels  were 
highly  favoured  in  the  reign  of  James  III. ;  but  the 
sunshine  did  not  last  long.  In  1574,  "pipers,  fiddlers,N 
and  minstrels  "  are  again  branded  with  the  opprobri-  j 
ous  term  of  vagabonds,  and  threatened  with  severe 
penalties;  and  the  Regent  Morton  induced  the  Privy 
Council  to  issue  an  edict  that  "  nane  tak  upon  hand 
to  emprent  or  sell  whatsoever  book,  ballet,  or  other 
werk,"  without  its  being  examined  and  licensed,  under 
pain  of  death  and  confiscation  of  goods.  In  August, 
1579,  two  poets  of  Edinburgh  (William  Turnbull, 
schoolmaster,  and  William  Scot,  notar,  "baith  weel 
belovit  of  the  common  people  for  their  common 
offices  "),  were  hanged  for  writing  a  satirical  ballad 
against  the  Earl  of  Morton  ;  and  in  October  of  the 
same  year,  the  Estates  passed  an  Act  against  beg- 
gars and  "sic  as  make  themselves  fules  and  are 
bards  .  .  .  minstrels,  sangsters,  and  tale  tellers,  not 
avowed  in  special  service  by  some  of  the  lords  of  par- 
liament or  great  burghs." 

The  minstrels  had  their  several  rounds,  and,  as  a 
general  rule,  did  not  interfere  with  each  other  ;  but  it 
is  probable  that  they  occasionally  made  a  foray  into 
other  districts,  in  order  to  replenish  their  worn-out 
stock  of  songs. 

One  of  the  last  of  the  true  minstrels  was  Richard 

b 


xviii  THE    MINSTRELS. 

Sheale,  who  enjoys  the  credit  of  having  preserved 
the  old  version  of  Chevy  Chase.  He  was  for  a 
time  in  the  service  of  Edward,  Earl  of  Derby, 
and  wrote  an  elegy  on  the  Countess,  who  died 
in  January,  1558.  He  afterwards,  followed  the  pro- 
fession of  a  minstrel  at  Tamworth,  and  his  wife 
was  a  "  sylke  woman,"  who  sold  shirts,  head  clothes, 
and  laces,  &c,,  at  the  fairs  of  Lichfield  and  other 
neighbouring  towns.  On  one  occasion,  when  he  left 
Tamworth  on  horseback,  with  his  harp  in  his  hand, 
he  had  the  misfortune  to  be  robbed  by  four  highway- 
men, who  lay  in  wait  for  him  near  Dunsmore  Heath. 
He  wrote  a  long  account  of  his  misfortune  in  verse,* 
in  which  he  describes  the  grief  of  himself  and  his 
wife  at  their  great  loss,  and  laments  over  the  coldness 
of  worldly  friends.  He  was  robbed  of  threescore 
pounds — a  large  amount  in  those  days — not  obtained, 
however,  from  the  exercise  of  his  own  skill,  but  by 
the  sale  of  his  wife's  wares.  This  money  was  to  be 
devoted  to  the  payment  of  their  debts,  and  in  order 
that  the  carriage  of  it  should  not  be  a  burden  to  him 
he  changed  it  all  for  gold.  He  thought  he  might 
carry  it  safely,  as  no  one  would  suspect  a  minstrel  of 
possessing  so  much  property,  but  he  found  to  his 
cost  that  he  had  been  foolishly  bold.  To  add  to  his 
affliction,  some  of  his  acquaintances  grieved  him  by 
saying  that  he  was  a  lying  knave,  and  had  not  been 
robbed,  as  it  was  not  possible  for  a  minstrel  to  have 
so  much  money.  There  was  a  little  sweetness,  how- 
ever, in  the  poor  minstrel's  cup,  for  patrons  were 
kind,  and  his  loving  neighbours  at  Tamworth  exerted 
themselves  to  help  him.  They  induced  him  to  brew 
a  bushel  of  malt,  and  sell  the  ale. 

All  this  is  related  in  a  poem,  which  gives  a  vivid 

*  Chant  of  Richard  Sheale,  Brydges'  British  Bibliographer,  vol. 
iv.  p.  100. 


THE    MINSTRELS.  xix 

picture  of  the  life  of  the  time,  although  the  verse 
does  not  do  much  credit  to  the  poet's  skill. 

When  the  minstrel  class  had  fallen  to  utter  decay- 
in  Eng-land,  it  flourished  with  vigour  in  Wales  ;  and 
we  learn  that  the  harpers  and  fiddlers  were  promi- 
nent figures  in  the  Cymmortha,  or  gatherings  of  the 
people  for  mutual  aid.  These  assemblies  were  of  a 
similar  character  to  the  "Bees,"  which  are  common 
among  our  brethren  in  the  United  States.  They 
were  often  abused  for  political  purposes,  and  they 
gave  some  trouble  to  Burghley  as  they  had  previously 
done  to  Henry  IV.  In  the  reign  of  that  king  a 
statute  was  passed  forbidding  rhymers,  minstrels, 
&c.  from  making  the  Cymmortha.  The  following 
extract  from  a  MS.  in  the  Lansdowne  Collection  in 
the  British  Museum,  on  the  state  of  Wales  in  Eliza- 
beth's reign,  shows  the  estimation  in  which  the  min- 
strels were  then  held  : —  _ 

"  Upon  the  Sundays  and  holidays  the  multitudes 
of  all  sorts  of  men,  women,  and  children  of  every 
parish  do  use  to  meet  in  sundry  places,  either  on 
some  hill  or  on  the  side  of  some  mountain,  where 
their  harpers  and  crowthers  sing  them  songs  of  the 
doincjs  of  their  ancestors."  * 

Ben  Jonson  introduces  "  Old  Father  Rosin,"  the 
chief  minstrel  of  Highgate,  as  one  of  the  principal 
characters  in  his  Tale  of  a  Tub ;  and  the  blind 
harpers  continued  for  many  years  to  keep  up  the  re- 
membrance of  the  fallen  glories  of  the  minstrel's  pro- 
fession. Tom  D'Urfey  relates  how  merrily  blind 
Tom  harped,  and  mention  is  made  of  "honest  Jack 
Nichols,  the  harper,"  in  Tom  Brown's  Letters  from 
the  Dead  to  the  Living  (Works,  ii.  191).  Sir  Walter 
Scott,  in  the  article  on  Romance  referred  to  above, 


*  Ellis's  Original  Letters,  Second  Series,  vol.  iii.  p.  49. 


XX  THE    MINSTRELS. 

tells  us  that  "about  fifty  or  sixty  years  since"  (which 
would  be  about  the  year  1770)  "a  person  acquired 
the  nickname  of  '  Roswal  and  Lillian,'  from  singing 
that  romance  about  the  streets  of  Edinburgh,  which  is 
probably  the  very  last  instance  of  the  proper  minstrel 
craft."  Scott  himself,  however,  gives  later  instances  in 
the  introduction  \.q\\\^  Minstrelsy  of  the  Scottish  Border. 
He  there  writes  :  "  It  is  certain  that  till  a  very  late 
period  the  pipers,  of  whom  there  was  one  attached  to 
each  border  town  of  note,  and  whose  office  was  often 
hereditary,  were  the  great  depositaries  of  oral,  and 
particularly  of  poetical  tradition.  About  spring-time, 
and  after  harvest,  it  was  the  custom  of  these  musicians 
to  make  a  progress  through  a  particular  district  of 
the  country.  The  music  and  the  tale  repaid  their 
lodging,  and  they  were  usually  gratified  with  a  dona- 
tion of  seed  corn.  This  order  of  minstrels  is  alluded 
to  in  the  comic  song  of  Maggy  Lauder,  who  thus  ad- 
dresses a  piper : 

'  Live  ye  upo'  the  border  ? ' "  * 

To  this  is  added  the  following  note : — "  These  town 
pipers,  an  institution  of  great  antiquity  upon  the 
borders,  were  certainly  the  last  remains  of  the  min- 
strel race.  Robin  Hastie,  town  piper  of  Jedburgh, 
perhaps  the  last  of  the  order,  died  nine  or  ten  years 
ago  ;  his  family  was  supposed  to  have  held  the  office 
for  about  three  centuries.  Old  aee  had  rendered 
Robin  a  wretched  performer,  but  he  knew  several 
old  songs  and  tunes,  which  have  probably  died 
along  with  him.  The  town-pipers  received  a  livery 
and  salary  from  the  community  to  which  they  be- 
longed ;  and  in  some  burghs  they  had  a  small  allot- 
ment of  land,  called  the  Pipers'  Croft."  Scott  further 
adds  : — "  Other  itinerants,  not  professed  musicians, 

*  See  Percy's  remarks  on  this  Hne  at  p.  379  (note). 


THE    MINSTRELS.  xxi 

found  their  welcome  to  their  night's  quarters  readily 
ensured  by  their  knowledge  in  legendary  lore.  John 
Grceme,  of  Sowport,  in  Cumberland,  commonly 
called  the  Long  Quaker,  a  person  of  this  latter 
description,  was  very  lately  alive,  and  several  of  the 
songs  now  published  have  been  taken  down  from 
his  recitation."  A  note  contains  some  further  par- 
ticulars of  this  worthy  : — "  This  person,  perhaps  the 
last  of  our  professed  ballad  reciters,  died  since  the 
publication  of  the  first  edition  of  this  work.  He 
was  by  profession  an  itinerant  cleaner  of  clocks  and 
watches,  but  a  stentorian  voice  and  tenacious 
memory  qualified  him  eminently  for  remembering 
accurately  and  reciting  with  energy  the  border 
gathering  songs  and  tales  of  war.  His  memory  was 
latterly  much  impaired,  yet  the  number  of  verses 
which  he  could  pour  forth,  and  the  animation  of  his 
tone  and  gestures,  formed  a  most  extraordinary  con- 
trast to  his  extreme  feebleness  of  person  and  dotage 
of  mind."  Ritson,  in  mentioning  some  relics  of 
the  minstrel  class,  writes  : — "  It  is  not  lonof  since 
that  the  public  papers  announced  the  death  of  a 
person  of  this  description  somewhere  in  Derbyshire  ; 
and  another  from  the  county  of  Gloucester  was 
within  these  few  years  to  be  seen  in  the  streets  of 
London  ;  he  played  on  an  instrument  of  the  rudest 
construction,  which  he  properly  enough  called  a 
luimstrum,  and  chanted  (amongst  others)  the  old 
ballad  of  Lord  Thomas  and  Fair  Eleanor,  which,  by 
the  way,  has  every  appearance  of  being  originally  a  * 
minstrel  song."  He  adds  further  in  a  note  :— "  He 
appeared  again  in  January,  1790,  and  called  upon 
the  present  writer  in  the  April  following.  He  was 
between  sixty  and  seventy  years  of  age,  but  had  not 
been  brouglit  u[;  to  the  profession  of  a  minstrel,  nor 
possessed  any  great  store  of  songs,  of  which  that 
mentioned  in  the  text  seemed  the  principal.    Havinj 


xxli  THE    MINSTRELS. 

it  would  seem,  survived  his  minstrel  talents,  and 
forgot  his  epic,  nay  Pindaric  art,  he  has  been  of  late 
frequently  observed  begging  in  the  streets."* 

These  quotations  relate  to  the  end  of  the  last 
or  to  the  very  early  part  of  the  present  century,  but 
we  can  add  a  notice  of  minstrels  who  lived  well  on 
towards  the  middle  of  this  century.  Mr.  J.  H. 
Dixon,  in  the  preface  to  his  Scottish  Traditio7ial 
Versions  of  Ancient  Ballads,  printed  for  the  Percy 
Society  in  1845,  writes  as  follows  : — "  Although  the 
harp  has  long  been  silent  in  the  dales  of  the  north 
of  England  and  Scotland,  it  has  been  succeeded  by 
the  violin,  and  a  class  of  men  are  still  in  existence 
and  pursuing  their  calling,  who  are  the  regular  de- 
scendants and  representatives  of  the  minstrels  of 
old.  In  his  rambles  amongst  the  hills  of  the  North, 
and  especially  in  the  wild  and  romantic  dales  of 
Yorkshire,  the  editor  has  met  with  several  of  these 
characters.  They  are  not  idle  vagabonds  who  have 
no  other  calling,  but  in  general  are  honest  and  in- 
dustrious, though  poor  men,  having  a  local  habita- 
tion as  well  as  a  name,  and  engaged  in  some  calling, 
pastoral  or  manual.  It  is  only  at  certain  periods, 
such  as  Christmas,  or  some  other  of  the  great  festal 
seasons  of  the  ancient  church,  that  they  take  up  the 
minstrel  life,  and  levy  contributions  in  the  hall  of  the 
peer  or  squire,  and  in  the  cottage  of  the  farmer  or 
peasant.  They  are  in  general  well-behaved,  and 
.often  very  witty  fellows,  and  therefore  their  visits 
llare  always  welcome.  These  minstrels  do  not  sing 
modern  songs,  but,  like  their  brethren  of  a  bygone 
age,  they  keep  to  the  ballads.  The  editor  has  in 
his  possession  some  old  poems,  which  he  obtained 
from  one  of  these  minstrels,  who  is  still  living  and 
fiddling  in  Yorkshire." 

*  Ritson's  Ancient  Songs  and  Ballads,  ed.  1829,  vol.  i.  p.  xxvi. 


THE    MINSTRELS.  xxiii 

In  his  A^iciejit  Poems,  Ballads,  and  So7igs  of  tJic 
Peasafitry  of  England,  1846,  Mr.  Dixon  notices  one 
of  these  relics  of  the  past,  viz.  Francis  King,  who 
was  well  known  in  the  western  dales  of  Yorkshire 
as  "  the  Skipton  INIinstrel  :  " — "  This  poor  minstrel, 
from  whose  recitation  two  of  our  ballads  were  ob- 
tained, met  his  death  by  drowning  in  December, 
1844.  He  had  been  at  a  merry  meeting  at  Gar- 
grave  in  Craven,  and  it  is  supposed  that  owing  to 
the  darkness  of  the  nieht  he  had  mistaken  his 
homeward  road,  and  walked  into  the  water.  He 
was  one  in  whose  character  were  combined  the 
mimic  and  the  minstrel,  and  his  old  jokes  and  older 
ballads  and  songs  ever  insured  him  a  hearty  wel- 
come. His  appearance  was  peculiar,  and  owing  to 
one  leg  being  shorter  than  its  companion,  he  walked 
in  such  a  manner  as  once  drew  from  a  wag  the 
remark,  '  that  few  kmgs  had  had  more  ups  and 
downs  in  the  w^orld!'  As  a  musician  his  talents 
were  creditable,  and  some  of  the  dance  tunes  that 
he  was  in  the  habit  of  composing  showed  that  he 
was  not  deficient  in  the  organ  of  melody.  In  the 
quiet  churchyard  of  Gargrave  may  be  seen  the 
minstrel's  crrave." 

O 

Percy  wrote  an  interesting  note  upon  the  division 
of  some  of  the  long  ballads  into  fits  (see  vol.  ii.  p.  182). 
The  minstrel's  payment  for  each  of  these  fits  was  a 
groat ;  and  so  common  was  this  remuneration,  that 
a  groat  came  to  be  generally  spoken  of  as  "  fiddler's 
money." 

Puttenham  describes  the  blind  harpers  and  tavern 
minstrels  as  giving  a  fit  of  mirth  for  a  groat ;  and  in 
Ben  Jonson's  masque  of  the  Metamorplioscd  Gipsies, 
162 1,  Townshcad,  the  clown,  cries  out,  "I  cannot 
hold  now  ;  there's  my  groat,  let's  have  a  fit  for  mirth 
sake." 

The  payment  seems  to  have  remained  the  same, 


xxiv  BALLADS    AND 

though  the  money  became  in  time  reduced  in  value, 
so  that,  as  the  minstrel  fell  in  repute,  his  reward  be- 
came less.  In  1533,  however,  a  Scotch  eighteen- 
penny  groat  possessed  a  considerable  buying  power, 
as  appears  from  the  following  extract : — 

"  Sir  Walter  Coupar,  chaplaine  in  Edinburghe,  gate 
a  pynte  of  vyne,  a  laiffe  of  36  vnce  vaight,  a  peck  of 
aite  meill,  a  pynte  of  aill,  a  scheipe  head,  ane  penny 
candell  and  a  faire  woman  for  ane  xviii.  penny 
grotte."* 

After  the  Restoration,  the  sixpence  took  the  place 
of  the  groat ;  and  it  is  even  now  a  current  phrase  to 
say,  when  several  sixpences  are  given  in  change, 
"  What  a  lot  of  fiddlers'  money  !" 


Ballads  and  Ballad  Writers. 

'\)    /^  One  of  the  most  important  duties  of  the  old  min- 
strel was  the  chanting  of  the  long  romances  of  chiv- 
±  airy,    and   the   question   whether   the  ballads  were 

detached  portions  of  the  romances,  or  the  romances 
built  up  from  ballads,  has  greatly  agitated  the  minds 
of  antiquaries.  There  seems  reason  to  believe  that 
in  a  large  number  of  instances  the  .most  telling  por- 
tions of  the  romance  were  turned  into  ballads,  and 
this  is  certainly  the  case  in  regard  to  several  of  those 
belonging  to  the  Arthurian  cycle.  On  the  other  side, 
such  poems  as  Barbour's  Bruce  and  Blind  Harry's 
Wallace  have,  according  to  Motherwell,  swept  out  of 
existence  the  memory  of  the  ballads  from  which  they 
were  formed.  When  Barbour  wrote,  ballads  relative 
to  Bruce  and  his  times  were  common,  "  for  the  poet, 

*  Marjoreybank's  Annals  of  Scotland,  Edinb.  1814,  p.  5,  quoted 
in  Motherwell's  Minstrelsy,  p.  xxx.  (note). 


BALLAD     WRITERS.  xxv 

in  speaking  of  certain  '  thre  worthi  poyntis  of  wer,' 
omits  the  particulars  of  the  '  thrid  which  fell  into 
Esdaill,'  being  a  victory  gained  by  '  Schyr  Johne 
the  Soullis,'  over  '  Schyr  Andrew  Hardclay/  for 
this  reason  : — 

*  I  will  nocht  rehers  the  maner, 
For  wha  sa  likes  thai  may  her, 
Young  wemen  quhen  thai  will  play, 
Syng  it  amang  thaim  ilk.  day.'  "  * 

Another  instance  of  the  agglutinative  process  may 
be  cited  in  the  gradual  growth  of  the  Robin  Hood 
ballads  into  a  sort  of  epic,  the  first  draught  of  which 
we  may  see  in  the  Mcrrye  Geste.  The  directness 
and  dramatic  cast  of  the  minstrel  ballad,  however, 
form  a  strong  argument  in  favour  of  the  theory  that 
they  were  largely  taken  from  the  older  romances  and 
chronicles,  and  the  fragmentary  appearance  of  some 
of  them  gives  force  to  this  view.  Without  preface^ 
they  go  at  once  straight  to  the  incident  to  be  de- 
scribed. Frequently  the  ballad  opens  with  a  con- 
versation, and  some  explanation  of  the  position  of  the 
interlocutors  was  probably  given  by  the  minstrel  as 
a  prose  introduction.  Motherwell,  in  illustration  of 
the  opinion  that  the  abrupt  transitions  of  the  ballads 
were  filled  up  by  the  explanations  of  the  minstrels, 
gives  the  following  modern  instance  : — 

"  Traces  of  such  a  custom  still  remain  in  the  low- 
lands of  Scotland  among  those  who  have  stores  of 
these  songs  upon  their  memory.  Reciters  frequently, 
when  any  part  of  the  narrative  appears  incomplete, 
supply  the  defect  in  prose.  ...  I  have  heard  the 
ancient  ballad  of  Yoting  Bcichan  ajid  Susan  Pyc 
dilated  by  a  story-teller  into  a  tale  of  very  remark- 
able dimensions — a  paragraph  of  prose,  and  then  a 

*  Motherwell's  Minstrelsy,  1827,  p.  xlvii. 


xxvi  BALLADS    AND 

screed  of  rhyme,  alternately  given.  From  this  ballad 
I  may  give  a  short  specimen,  after  the  fashion  of  the 
venerable  authority  from  whom  I  quote  :  '  Well  ye 
must  know  that  in  the  Moor's  castle  there  was  a 
massymore,  which  is  a  dark,  deep  dungeon  for  keep- 
ing prisoners.  It  was  twenty  feet  below  the  ground, 
and  into  this  hole  they  closed  poor  Beichan.  There 
he  stood,  night  and  day,  up  to  his  waist  in  puddle 
water  ;  but  night  or  day,  it  was  all  one  to  him,  for  no 
ae  styme  of  light  ever  got  in.  So  he  lay  there  a  long 
and  weary  while,  and  thinking  on  his  heavy  weird, 
he  made  a  mournfu'  sang  to  pass  the  time,  and  this 
was  the  sang  that  he  made,  and  grat  when  he  sang 
it,  for  he  never  thought  of  ever  escaping  from  the 
massymore,  or  of  seeing  his  ain  country  again  : 

'  My  hounds  they  all  run  masterless, 
My  hawks  they  flee  from  tree  to  tree ; 
My  youngest  brother  will  heir  my  lands, 
And  fair  England  again  I'll  never  see. 

Oh  were  I  free  as  I  hae  been. 

And  my  ship  swimming  once  more  on  sea  \ 

I'd  turn  my  face  to  fair  England, 

And  sail  no  more  to  a  strange  countrie.' 

*  Now  the  cruel  Moor  had  a  beautiful  daughter,  called 
Susan  Pye,  who  was  accustomed  to  take  a  walk  every 
morning  in  her  garden,  and  as  she  was  walking  ae 
day  she  heard  the  sough  o'  Beichan's  sang,  coming,  as 
it  were,  from  below  the  ground,'  "  &c.* 

The  contrast  between  the  construction  of  minstrel 
Y  ballads  and  those  of  the  ballad-mongers  who  arose  as 
a  class  in  the  reign  of  Elizabeth  is  very  marked.  The 
ballad-singers  who  succeeded  the  minstrels  were  suf- 
ficiently wise  not  to  reject  the  treasures  of  their  pre- 
decessors, and  many  of  the  old  songs  were  rewritten 

*  Motherwell's  Minstrelsy,  p.  xv. 


BALLAD     WRITERS.  xxvii 

and  lengthened  to  suit  their  purpose.  Sir  Patrick 
Spencc  would  perhaps  be  the  best  of  the  minstrel 
ballads  to  oppose  to  one  of  the  best  of  the  later  bal- 
lads, such  as  the  Beggar  s  Daughter  of  Bediiall  Green  ; 
but  as  its  authenticity  has  been  disputed,  it  will  be 
well  to  choose  another,  and  Captainc  Carre,  which 
Ritson  allows  to  have  been  one  of  the  few  minstrel 
ballads  he  acknowledges,  will  do  well  for  the  purpose. 
As  both  these  poems  are  before  our  readers,  it  will 
only  be  necessary'  to  quote  the  first  stanzas  of  each. 
The  version  in  the  folio  MS.  of  Captain  Carre  com- 
mences abruptly  thus  : — 

"ffaith  maister,  whither  you  will, 

whereas  you  like  the  best, 
unto  the  castle  of  Bitton's  borrow, 

and  there  to  take  your  rest."* 

This  is  a  remarkable  contrast  to  the  opening  of 
the  Beggar's  Daiighter  : — 

"  Itt  was  a  blind  beggar,  had  long  lost  his  sight, 
He  had  a  faire  daughter  of  bewty  most  bright ; 
And  many  a  gallant  brave  suiter  had  shee, 
For  none  was  soe  comelye  as  pretty  Bessee.  "  t 

Some  may  think,  however,  that  this  ballad  is  an 
adaptation  by  the  ballad-monger  from  an  older 
original,  so  that  perhaps  a  still  better  instance  of 
the  great  change  in  form  that  the  ballads  under- 
went will  be  found  in  the  CJiilciren  in  the  Wooci.X 
This  favourite  ballad  is  one  of  the  best  specimens 
of  that  didactic  style  which  is  so  natural  in  the 
hands  of  the  master,  but  degenerates  into  such  tedious 
twaddle  when  copied  by  the  pupil.      The  first  stanza 

is  : — 

"  Now  ponder  well,  you  parents  dcare, 
These  wordes,  which  1  shall  write ; 


See  below,  p.  148.    t  "^'ol-  ii-  P-  ^72-     +  Vol.  iii.  bk.  ii.  art.  18. 


xxviii  BALLADS    AND 

A  doleful  story  you  shall  heare, 
In  time  brought  forth  to  light. 

A  gentleman  of  good  account 
In  Norfolke  dwelt  of  late, 

Who  did  in  honour  far  surmount 
Most  men  of  his  estate." 


VTo  put  the  matter  simply,  we  may  say  that  the 
writer  of  the  old  minstrel  ballad  expected  an  un- 
hesitating belief  for  all  his  statements.  "If  fifteen 
stalwart  foresters  are  slain  by  one  stout  knight, 
single-handed,  he  never  steps  out  of  his  way  to 
prove  the  truth  of  such  an  achievement  by  appeal- 
ing to  the  exploits  of  some  other  notable  man- 
slayer."*  On  the  other  hand  the  professional 
ballad-writer  gives  a  reason  for  everything  he 
states,  and  in  consequence  fills  his  work  with_re-^ 
dundancies,  Percy  understood  the  characteristics 
of  the  older  ballads,  and  explained  the  difference 
between  the  two  classes  of  ballads  in  his  Essay  on 
the  Ancient  Minstrels,'^  but  unfortunately  he  did  not 
bear  the  distinction  in  mind  when  he  altered  some  of 
the  ballads  in  the  folio  MS.  So  that  we  find  it  to 
Tiave  been  his  invariable  practice  to  graft  the  pretti- 
nesses  and  redundancies  of  the  later  writers  upon 
the  simplicity  of  the  earlier.  For  instance,  in  his 
version  of  Sir  Cauline  he  inserts  such  well-worn 
saws  as  the  following  : — 

"  Everye  white  will  have  its  blacke, 

And  everye  sweete  its  sowre  : 
This  founde  the  ladye  Cristabelle 

In  an  untimely  howre."  \ 

'^  Ritson  also  remarks  upon  the  distinctive  styles  of 
the  ancient  and  modern  writers,  but,  as  observed 
above,  he  had  the  bad  taste  to  prefer  the  work  of 


*  Motherwell's  Minstrelsy,  p.  xiii. 

t  See  below,  p.  380.  j  See  below,  p.  70. 


BALLAD    WRITERS.  xxix 

the  later  ballad-writer.  His  opinion  is  given  in  the 
following  passage: — "These  songs  [of  the  minstrels] 
from  their  wild  and  licentious  metre  were  incapable 
of  any  certain  melody  or  air ;  they  were  chanted  in 
a  monotonous  stile  to  the  harp  or  other  instrument, 
and  both  themselves  and  the  performers  banished 
by  the  introduction  of  ballad-singers  without  instru- 
ments, who  sung  printed  pieces  to  fine  and  simple 
melodies,  possibly  of  their  own  invention,  most  of 
which  are  known  and  admired  at  this  day.  The 
latter,  owing  to  the  smoothness  of  their  language, 
and  accuracy  of  their  measure  and  rime,  were 
thought  to  be  more  poetical  than  the  old  harp  or 
instrument  songs  ;  and  though  critics  may  judge 
otherwise,  the  people  at  large  were  to  decide,  and 
did  decide  :  and  in  some  respects,  at  least,  not  with- 
out justice,  as  will  be  evident  from  a  comparison  of 
the  following  specimens. 

"  The  first  is  from  the  old  Chevy  Chase,  a  very 
popular  minstrel  ballad  in  the  time  of  Queen  Eliza- 
beth : — 

'  The  Perse  owt  of  Northombarlande, 
And  a  vowe  to  God  mayd  he,'  &c.* 

How  was  it  possible  that  this  barbarous  language, 

miserably  chanted  '  by  some  blind  crowder  with  no 

rougher  voice  than  rude  stile,'  should  maintain  its 

ground  against   such    lines   as    the  following,   sung 

to  a  beautiful   melody,  which  we  know  belongs  to 

them  ? — 

'  When  as  king  Henry  rul'd  the  land, 

The  second  of  that  name. 
Besides  the  cjueen  he  dearly  lov'd, 

A  fair  and  comely  dame,'  &c.t 

The  minstrels  would  seem  to  have  gained  little  by 
such  a  contest.    I  n  short,  they  gave  up  the  old  Chevy 

♦  See  below,  p.  23.  t  See  vol.  ii.  p.  158. 


XXX  BALLADS    AND 

Chase  to  the  ballad-singers,  who,  desirous,  no  doubt, 
to  avail  themselves  of  so  popular  a  subject,  had  it 
new  vTitten,  and  sung  it  to  the  favourite  melody  just 
mentioned.  The  original,  of  course,  became  utterly- 
neglected,  and  but  for  its  accidental  discovery  by 
Hearne,  would  never  have  been  known  to  exist."* 

Percy  held  the  view,  which  was  afterwards  advo- 
cated by  Scott,  that  the  Borders  were  the  true  home 
of  the  romantic  ballad,  and  that  the  chief  minstrels 
originally  belonged  either  to  the  north  of  England  or 
the  south  of  Scotland  ;f  but  later  writers  have  found 
the  relics  of  a  ballad  literature  in  the  north  of  Scot- 
land. The  characteristics  of  the  ballad  doubtless 
varied  to  some  extent  in  different  parts  of  the 
country,  but  there  is  no  reason  to  believe  that  the 
glory  of  being  its  home  can  be  confined  to  any  one 
place.  Unfortunately  this  popular  literature  was 
earlier  lost  in  the  plains  than  among  the  hills,  while 
the  recollection  of  the  fatal  fields  of  Otterburn,  Hum- 
bledon,  Flodden,  Halidon,  Hedgeley^,  Hexham,  &c., 
would  naturally  keep  it  alive  longer  among  the 
families  of  the  Border  than  elsewhere. 

Before  proceeding  further,  it  may  be  as  well  to  say 
a  few  words  upon  the  word  ballad.  The  strong  line 
of  demarcation  that  is  now  drawn  between  an  ordinary 
song  and  a  ballad  is  a  late  distinction,  and  even  Dr. 
Johnson's  only  explanation  of  the  word  "  ballad  "  in 
his  Dictionary  is  "  a  song."  One  of  his  quotations  is 
taken  from  Watts,  to  the  effect  that  "  ballad  once 
signified  a  solemn  and  sacred  song,  as  well  as  trivial, 
when  Solomon's  Song  was  called  the  ballad  of  ballads; 
but  now  it  is  applied  to  nothing  but  trifling  verse." 
The  "  balade  "  as  used  by  Chaucer  and  others  was  a 
song  written  in  a  particular  rhythm,  but  later  writers 


*  Ritson's  Ancient  Songs  and  Ballads,  ed.  1829,  vol.  i,  p.  xxxiii. 
t  See  below,  p.  378. 


^  ^ 


BALLAD    WRITERS.  xxxi 

usually  meant  by  a  ballad  a  song  that  was  on  the  lips 
of  the  people. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  enlarge  here  upon  the  change 
of  meaning  that  the  word  has  undergone,  nor  to  do  "^  "^         *. 
more  than  mention  the  relation  that  it  bears  to  the 
word  ballet.  As  a  ballad  is  now  a  story  told  in  verse, 
so  a  ballet  is  now  a  story  told  in  a  dance.   Originally   i 
the  two  were  one,  and  the  ballad  was  a  song  sung  / 
while  the  singers  were  dancing. 

When  Andrew  Fletcher  of  Saltoun  wrote,  "  I 
knew  a  very  wise  man,  so  much  of  Sir  Christopher's 
sentiment  that  he  believed  if  a  man  were  permitted 
to  make  all  the  ballads,  he  need  not  care  who  should 
make  the  laws  of  a  nation,"  he  referred  to  the  popular 
songs  of  the  people,  but,  in  point  of  fact,  a  nation 
makes  its  own  ballads,  which  do  not  become  current 
coin  until  stamped  with  public  approval.  No  song 
will  change  a  people's  purpose,  but  the  national  heart 
will  be  found  written  in  a  country's  songs  as  a  re- 
flection of  what  has  happened. 

The  successful  ballad-writer  requires  a  quick  eye  . 
and  ear  to  discern  what  is  smouldering  in  the  public 
mind,  and  then  if  his  words  fall  in  with  the  humour 
of  the  people  his  productions  will  have  a  powerful 
influence,  and  may  set  the  country  in  a  blaze.  Ca 
ira  and  the  Carmagnole  had  much  influence  on 
the  progress  of  the  great  French  Revolution,  as 
Motirir  pour  la  Patrie  had  upon  that  of  1848. 
Lillibiirlcro  gave  the  finishing  stroke  to  the 
English  Revolution  of  1688,  and  its  author  (Lord 
Wharton)  boasted  that  he  had  rhymed  King  James 
out  of  his  dominions.  '^ 

The  old  ballad   filled  the    place  of   the    modern       ^    / 
newspaper,   and   history  can   be  read  in  ballads  by 
those  who  try  to  understand  them ;   but  the  type  is 
often  blurred,  and  in  attempting  to  make  out  their 
meaning,  we  must  be  careful  not  to  see  too  much. 


xxxii  BALLADS   AND 

for  the  mere  fact  of  the  existence  of  a  ballad  does 
not  prove  its  popularity  or  its  truth. 

Literature  is  often  presumed  to  assert  a  larger 
influence  over  a  nation  than  it  really  does,  and  there 
is  little  doubt  that  literature  is  more  a  creation  of 
the  people  than  the  people  are  a  creation  of  litera- 
ture. Where  a  healthy  public  opinion  exists,  people 
are  less  affected  to  action  by  what  is  written  than  is 
sometimes  supposed,  but  still  there  is  an  important 
reflex  action,  and — 

"  Words  are  things,  and  a  small  drop  of  ink 
Falling  like  dew  upon  a  thought,  produces 
That  which  makes  thousands,  perhaps  millions,  think." 

There  are  recorded  instances  of  the  powerful 
influence  of  ballads,  and  we  know  how  much  Dib- 
din's  sea  songs  did  for  the  British  navy,  when  they 
placed  before  the  sailor  an  ideal  of  his  own  feelings, 
and  painted  men  he  wished  to  be  like. 

The  songs  of  a  country  are  the  truly  natural  part 
of  its  poetry,  and  really  the  only  poetry  of  the  great 
body  of  the  people.  Percy,  in  the  dedication  to  his 
Reliqties,  calls  ballads  the  "  barbarous  productions 
of  unpolished  ages."  Nevertheless  they  are  instinct 
with  life,  and  live  still,  while  much  of  the  polished 
poetry  of  his  age,  which  expelled  nature  from  litera- 
ture, is  completely  dead.  Nature  is  the  salt  that 
keeps  the  ballad  alive,  and  many  have  maintained  a 
continuance  of  popularity  for  several  centuries. 

A  good  ballad  is  not  an  easy  thing  to  write,  and 
many  poets  who  have  tried  their  hand  at  composition 
in  this  branch  of  their  art  have  signally  failed,  as  may 
be  seen  by  referring  to  some  of  the  modern  pieces 
in  this  book,  which  Percy  hoped  would  "  atone  for 
the  rudeness  of  the  more  obsolete  poems." 
,  The  true  ballad  is  essentially  dramatic,  and  one 

y        \  I    that  is  to  make  itself  felt  should  be  all  action,  with- 


BALLAD     WRITERS.  xxxiii 

out  any  moralizing  padding,  for  it  is  a  narrative  in 
v^erse  meant  for  the  common  people.  James  Hogg, 
himself  a  successful  ballad-writer,  has  something  to 
say  about  a  good  song  :  "  A  man  may  be  sair  mis- 
ta'en  about  many  things,  sic  as  yepics,  an'  tragedies, 
an'  tales,  an'  even  lang  set  elegies  about  the  death 
o'  great  public  characters,  an'  hymns,  an'  odes,  an' 
the  like,  but  he  canna  be  mista'en  about  a  sang.  As 
sune  as  it's  down  on  the  sclate  I  ken  whether  it's 
gude,  bad,  or  middlin'.  If  any  of  the  two  last  I  dight 
it  out  wi'  my  elbow ;  if  the  first,  I  copy  it  o'er  into 
writ  and  then  get  it  aff  by  heart,  when  it's  as  sure 
o'  no'  being  lost  as  if  it  war  engraven  on  a  brass 
plate.  For  though  I  hae  a  treacherous  memory 
about  things  in  ordinar',  a'  my  happy  sangs  will 
cleave  to  my  heart  to  my  dying  day,  an'  I  should  na 
wonder  gin  I  war  to  croon  a  verse  or  twa  frae  some 
o'  them  on  my  deathbed." 

Allballads  are  songs,  but  all  songs  are  not  ballads,  y 
and  the  difference  between  a  ballad  and  a  soncf  is  l^ 
something  the  same  as  that  between  a  proverb  and 
an  apophthegm,  for  the  ballad  like  the  proverb  should 
be  upon  many  lips,  A  poet  may  write  a  poem  and 
call  it  a  ballad :  but  it  requires  the  public  approval 
before  it  becomes  one  in  fact. 

The  objects  of  the  minstrel  and  the  ballad-singer 
were  essentially  different :  thus  the  minstrel's  stock  | 
of  ballads  usually  lasted  him  his  lifetime,  and  as  his 
living    depended    upon    them  they   were    jealously 
guarded  by  him  from  others.      Nothing  he  objected  \J 

to  more  than  to  see  them  in  print.  The  chief  aim 
of  the  ballad-singer,  on  the  other  hand,  was  to  sell 
his  collection  of  printed  broadsides,  and  to  obtain 
continually  a  new  stock,  so  as  to  excite  the  renewed 
attention  of  his  customers. 

Henry  Chettle  mentions  in  his  Kind H art's  Dream, 
1592,  the  sons  of  one  Barnes,  who  boasted  that  they 

c 


xxxiv  BALLADS    AND 

could  earn  twenty  shillings  a  day  by  singing  ballads 
at  Bishop's  Stortford  and  places  in  the  neighbour- 
hood. The  one  had  a  squeaking  treble,  the  other 
"  an  ale-blown  bass." 

One  of  the  most  popular  singers  of  the  early  time 
was  a  boy  named  Cheeke,  and  nicknamed  "  Out- 
roaring  Dick."  He  was  originally  a  mechanic,  but 
renounced  that  life  for  ballad-singing,  by  which 
occupation  he  earned  ten  shillings  a  day.  He  was 
well  known  in  Essex,  and  was  not  missed  for  many 
years  from  the  great  fair  at  Braintree.  He  had  a 
rival  in  Will  Wimbars,  who  sung  chiefly  doleful 
traofedies.  Mat  Nash,  a  man  from  the  "  North 
Countrie,"  made  the  Border  ballads  his  own  by  his 
manner  of  singing  them,  in  which  he  accompanied 
his  voice  by  dramatic  action.  Chevy  Chase  was 
his  tour  de  Jorce.  Lord  Burghley  was  so  pleased 
with  his  singing  that  he  enabled  him  to  retire 
from  his  occupation.  The  gipsies  have  furnished 
many  female  singers,  and  one  of  them,  named 
Alice  Boyce,  who  came  to  London  in  Elizabeth's 
reign,  paid  the  expenses  of  her  journey  up  to  Lon- 
don by  singing  the  whole  way.  She  had  the 
honour  of  singing,  "  O,  the  broom "  and  "  Lady 
Green  Sleeves"  before  the  queen.  Gravelot,  the 
portrait  painter  in  the  Strand,  had  several  sittings 
from  ballad-singers;  and  Hogarth  drew  the  famous 
"Philip  in  the  Tub"  in  his  Wedding  of  the  Indus- 
trious Apprentice. 

Street  singing  still  continues,  and  one  of  the  songs 
of  thirty  years  ago  tells  of  "the  luck  of  a  cove  wot 
sings,"  and  how  many  friends  he  has.  One  of  the 
verses  is  as  follows  : — 

"  "While  strolling  t'other  night, 
I  dropped  in  a  house,  d'ye  see ; 
The  landlord  so  polite, 
Insisted  on  treating  me  ; 


BALLAD     WRITERS.  xxxv 

I  called  for  a  glass  of  port, 

When  half-a-bottle  he  brings  ; 

'  How  much  ?  ' — '  Nothing  of  the  sort,' 

Says  he,  '  you're  a  cove  wot  sings.'  " 

Mr.  Chappell  gives  a  large  number  of  early  quota- 
tions relating  to  ballad-singing,  in  his  interesting  His- 
tory of  Ballad  Literature,  and  observes  that  "  some 
idea  of  the  number  of  ballads  that  were  printed  in 
the  early  part  of  the  reign  of  Elizabeth  may  be 
formed  from  the  fact  that  seven  hundred  and  ninety- 
six  ballads  left  for  entry  at  Stationers'  Hall  remained 
in  the  cupboard  of  the  Council  Chamber  of  the  Com- 
pany at  the  end  of  the  year  1560,  to  be  transferred  to 
the  new  Wardens,  and  only  forty-four  books."*  Some 
of  the  old  writers,  like  Shakspere's  Mopsa,  loved  "a 
ballad  in  print ;"  but  more  of  them  disliked  the  new 
literature  that  was  rising  up  like  a  mushroom,  and 
took  every  opportunity  of  having  a  fling  at  it. 

Webbe,  in  his  Discourse  0/ English  Poetrie  (1586), 
refers  to  "  the  un-countable  rabble  of  ryming  ballet- 
makers  and  compylers  of  senseless  sonnets  ;"  and 
Chettle  complains  in  Kind  Hart's  Dream  (1592), 
that  "  now  ballads  are  abusively  chanted  in  every 
street ;  and  from  London,  this  evil  has  overspread 
Essex  and  the  adjoining  counties.  There  is  many  a 
tradesman  of  a  worshipful  trade,  yet  no  stationer, 
who  after  a  little  bringing  up  apprentices  to  singing 
brokery,  takes  into  his  shop  some  fresh  men,  and 
trusts  his  servants  of  two  months'  standing  with  a 
dozen  groats'  worth  of  ballads,  in  which,  if  they  prove 
thrifty,  he  makes  them  pretty  chapmen,  able  to 
spread  more  pamphlets  by  the  State  forbidden  than 
all  the  booksellers  in  London."  Bishop  Hall  (1597) 
does  not  forget  to  satirize  ballad-writing  among  other 
things  more  worthy  of  censure. 

*  Popular  Music  of  the  Olden  Time,  vol.  i.  p.  106. 


xxxvl  BALLADS    AND 

"  Some  drunken  rhymer  thinks  his  time  well  spent, 
If  he  can  live  to  see  his  name  in  print ; 
Who,  when  he  is  once  fleshed  to  the  presse, 
And  sees  his  handsell  have  such  faire  successe 
Sung  to  the  wheele  and  sung  unto  the  payle, 
He  sends  forth  thraves  of  ballads  to  the  sale." 

That  is,  by  the  spinsters  and  milkmaids.  Shakspere 
also  refers  to  the  love  which  women  at  work  have  for 
a  ballad  in  Twelfth  Night  (act  i.  sc.  4  ) : 

"  The  spinsters  and  knitters  in  the  sun. 

And  the  free  maids  that  weave  their  thread  with  bones 

Do  use  to  chant  it." 

The  larger  number  of  ballads  are  anonymous,  but 
we  are  told  that  in  the  reign  of  Henry  VIII.,  "the 
most  pregnant  wits "  were  employed  in  writing 
them,  and  that  the  king  himself  set  the  example. 
The  ballad,  however,  here  referred  to  probably 
only  meant  an  ordinary  song.  In  course  of  time 
rhymesters  succeeded  poets,  because,  as  the  world 
becomes  more  educated,  the  poet  confines  himself 
to  the  refined,  and  the  people  have  to  content 
themselves  with  poor  poetasters.  Stirring  times 
will,  however,  always  give  birth  to  some  real  poetry 
among  the  masses,  because  whatever  is  true  and 
earnest  must  find  an  echo  in  many  hearts.  In  Eliza- 
beth's reign,  as  we  have  already  seen,  the  ballad- 
writer  had  sunk  very  low  in  public  esteem.  In  fur- 
ther illustration  of  this  we  find  in  Martin  Mar-sixtus 
(1592)  the  following  diatribe:  "I  lothe  to  speak  it, 
every  red-nosed  rhymester  is  an  auther,  every 
drunken  man's  dream  is  a  book ;  and  he  whose 
talent  of  little  wit  is  hardly  worth  a  farthing,  yet 
layeth  about  him  so  outrageously  as  if  all  Helicon 
had  run  through  his  pen.  In  a  word,  scarce  a  cat 
can  look  out  of  a  gutter,  but  out  starts  a  halfpenny 
chronicler,  and  presently  a  proper  new  ballet  of  a 
strange  sight  is  indited."  The  producer  and  the  pro- 


BALLAD    WRITERS,         xxxvii 

duct  had  not  greatly  changed  in  forty  years,  for  we 
find  the  following  character  in  the  curious  little  book, 
entitled    Whimzics,  or  a  New    Cast  of  Characters 

(1631): 

"  A  ballad-monorer  is  the  io^nominious  nickname  of 

a  penurious  poet,  of  whom  he  partakes  in  nothing 
but  in  povertie.  He  has  a  singular  gift  of  imagina- 
tion, for  he  can  descant  on  a  man's  execution  long 
before  his  confession.  Nor  comes  his  invention  far 
short  of  his  imagination.  For  want  of  truer  relations, 
for  a  neede,  he  can  finde  you  out  a  Sussex  dragon, 
some  sea  or  inland  monster,  drawne  out  by  some 
Shoe-lane  man  in  a  Gorgon-like  feature,  to  enforce 
more  horror  in  the  beholder." 

The  chief  of  the  ballad-writers  were  William  Elder-Pi 
ton,  Thomas  Deloney,  Richard  Johnson,  and  Anthony 
Munday.  Elderton  was  known  as  the  prince  of  ballad- 
mongers  ;  but,  unfortunately,  he  was  as  notorious  for 
his  love  of  the  bottle,  and  he  is  said  to  have  drunk 
himself  to  death  before  the  year  1592.  Camden  tells 
us  that  "  he  did  arm  himself  with  ale  (as  old  Father 
Ennius  did  with  wine)  when  he  ballated,"  and  two 
epitaphs  made  upon  him  are  registered  in  the  Re- 
maines,  the  Latin  one  of  which  is  also  printed  at 
p.  221  of  vol.  ii.,  with  Oldys's  translation,  and  the 
following  : — 

"  Here  is  Elderton  lying  in  dust. 

Or  lying  Elderton ;  chuse  which  you  lust. 

Here  he  lies  dead,  I  do  him  no  wrong, 

For  who  knew  him  standing,  all  his  life  long?" 

Nash  asserts  that  "  Elderton  consumed  his  ale- 
crammed  nose  to  nothing  in  bear-bayting  "  an  enemy 
"with  whole  bundells  of  ballets;"*  and  Gabriel  Har- 
vey attacks  "  Father  Elderton  and  his  son  Greene, 
as  the  ringleaders  of  the  riming  and  scribbling  crew." 


Pierce  J'cniiessc,  his  Supplication  to  the  Baill,  1592. 


xxxviii  BALLADS    AND 

According  to  Stow,  Elderton  was  an  attorney  in  the 
Sheriffs'  Courts  of  the  City  of  London,  and  wrote 
some  verses  on  the  new  porch  and  stone  statues  at 
Guildhall.  Ritson  does  not  think  that  his  poetical 
powers  are  to  be  compared  with  those  of  Deloney  and 
Johnson.  Drayton  also  appears  to  have  had  a  low 
opinion  of  him,  for  he  writes  : — 

"  I  scorn'd  your  ballad  then,  though  it  were  done 
And  had  for  finis,  William  Elderton," 

but  Benedick,  in  Mtich  Ado  about  NotJiing  (act  v. 

sc.  2)  does  him  the  honour  of  singing  one    of  his 

songs  : — 

"  The  god  of  love 

That  sits  above, 

And  knows  me,  and  knows  me 

How  pitiful  I  deserve." 

Thomas  Deloney,  the  shoemaker's  historiographer, 
was  a  voluminous  writer  of  ballads,  which  he  himself 
collected  into  Garlands,  with  different  taking  titles. 
Several  of  his  pieces  are  printed  in  these  volumes. 
Nash  calls  him  "  the  balleting  silk-weaver  of  Nor- 
wich ;"  and  in  his  Have  with  you  to  Saffron  Walden, 
he  remarks  on  the  ballad-maker's  change  of  style  : 
"He  hath  rhyme  enough  for  all  miracles,  and  wit  to 
make  a  Garla7id  of  Good  Will,  &c.,  but  whereas  his 
muse,  from  the  first  peeping  forth,  hath  stood  at  livery 
at  an  ale-house  wisp,  never  exceeding  a  penny  a  quart, 
day  or  night — and  this  dear  year,  together  with  the 
silencing  of  his  looms,  scarce  that — he  is  constrained 
to  betake  himself  to  carded  ale,  whence  it  proceedeth 
that,  since  Candlemas,  or  his  jigg  of  Jo  Jin  for  the 
King,  not  one  merry  ditty  will  come  from  him ;  nothing 
but  The  Thu7iderbolt  agai^ist  Swearers  ;  Repent,  Eng- 
land, Repent,  and  the  Strange  ftidgments  of  God" 
Kemp,  the  comic  actor  and  morris-dancer,  was  par- 
ticularly angry  with  the  ballad-makers  in  general,  and 


BALLAD    WRITERS.  xxxix 

Deloney  in  particular,  and  addresses  them  in  the  fol- 
lowins:  terms  -. — 

"  Kemp's  humble  request  to  the  impudent  genera- 
tion of  Ballad-makers  and  their  coherents,  that  it 
would  please  their  rascalities  to  pitty  his  paines  in 
the  great  journey  he  pretends,  and  not  fill  the  country 
with  lyes  of  his  never  done  actes  as  they  did  in  his 
late  Morrice  to  Norwich.  I  knowe  the  best  of  ye,  by 
the  lyes  ye  writ  of  me,  got  not  the  price  of  a  good  hat 
to  cover  your  brainless  heds.  If  any  of  ye  had  come 
to  me,  my  bounty  should  have  exceeded  the  best  of 
your  good  masters  the  ballad-buiers.  I  wold  have 
apparrelled  your  dry  pates  in  party-coloured  bonnets, 
and  bestowed  a  leash  of  my  cast  belles  to  have  crown'd 
ye  with  cox-combs. 

"  I  was  told  it  was  the  great  ballet-maker,  T.  D., 
alias  Tho.  Deloney,  chronicler  of  the  memorable  lives 
of  the  6  yeamen  of  the  West,  Jack  of  Newbery,  the 
Gentle-Craft,  and  such  like  honest  men,  omitted  by 
Stow,  Hollinshead,  Grafton,  Hal,  Froysart,  and  the 
rest  of  those  wel  deservino-  writers."* 

Richard  Johnson,  the  author  of  the  Seven  Cham- 
pions of  Christendoni,\[\^c:  Deloney,  collected  his  own 
ballads  into  a  book,  and  his  Crowji  Gai'land of  Golde^i 
Roses  was  once  highly  popular. 

Anthony  Munday,  a  draper  in  Cripplegate,  and  a 
member  of  the  Drapers'  Company,  has  the  fame 
of  being  a  voluminous  writer  of  ballads,  but  none  of 
his  productions  are  known  to  exist.  Kemp  calls  him 
"  Elderton's  immediate  heir,"  but  he  does  not  seem  to 
have  walked  in  his  predecessor's  disreputable  steps, but 
to  have  lived  respected  to  the  good  age  of  eighty.  He 
died  Aug.  lo,  1633,  and  was  buried  in  St.  Stephen's, 
Coleman-street,  where  a  monument  with  an  inscrip- 
tion in  praise  of  his  knowledge  as  an  antiquary  was 

*  Kemp's  Nine  Daks'  Wonder,  1600,  sign,  d  3. 


xl  BALLADS    AND 

erected.  He  wrote  many  of  the  annual  city  pageants, 
besides  plays,  which  caused  Meres  to  call  him  "  the 
best  plotter  "  of  his  age. 

Chettle  disguised  Munday  as  Anthony  Now-Now, 
and  Ben  Jonson  ridiculed  him  in  The  Case  is 
Altered,  as  Antonio  Balladino,  the  pageant  poet. 
To  the  question,  "  You  are  not  the  pageant  poet  to 
the  city  of  Milan,  are  you  ?  "  he  is  made  to  answer, 
"  I  supply  the  place,  sir,  when  a  worse  cannot  be 
had,  sir."  He  had  several  enemies  who  ran  him 
down,  but  he  also  had  friends  who  stood  up  for  him. 
William  Webbe,  in  his  Discourse  of  English  Poetrie, 
describes  Munday  as  "an  earnest  traveller  in  this 
art,"  and  says  that  he  wrote  "  very  excellent  works, 
especially  upon  nymphs  and  shepherds,  well  worthy 
to  be  viewed  and  to  be  esteemed  as  rare  poetry." 

Thomas  Middleton,  the  dramatic  poet,  who  pro- 
duced the  Lord  Mayor's  pageant  for  the  mayoralty 
of  his  namesake.  Sir  Thomas  Middleton  {The 
Triumphs  of  TrutJi),  in  1613,  attacks  poor  Munday 
most  viciously.  On  the  title-page  he  declares  his 
pageant  to  have  been  "  directed,  written,  and  re- 
deem'd  into  forme,  from  the  ignorance  of  some 
former  times  and  their  common  writer,"  and  in 
his  book  he  adds  : — "  The  miserable  want  of  both 
[art  and  knowledge]  which  in  the  impudent  com- 
mon writer  hath  often  forced  from  me  much  pity 
and  sorrow,  and  it  would  heartily  grieve  any 
understanding  spirit  to  behold  many  times  so 
glorious  a  fire  in  bounty  and  goodness  offering 
to  match  itselfe  with  freezing  art,  sitting  in  dark- 
nesse  with  the  candle  out,  looking  like  the  picture 
of  Blacke  Monday." 

When  the  civil  war  broke  out,  the  majority  of  the 
poets  were  ready  to  range  themselves  on  the  side  of 
the  King.  Alexander  Brome  was  the  most  volumi- 
nous writer  of  royalist  songs,  but  Martin  Parker,  the 


BALLAD    WRITERS.  xli 

writer   of    The   King  shall   enjoy   Jiis    oivn   again, 
must  take  rank  as  the  leading  ballad-writer  of  his 
time.     This  was  one  of  those  songs  that  cheer  the 
supporters  of  a  losing  cause,  and  help  them  to  win 
success  in  the  end.     It  is  supposed  to  have  formed 
a  by  no  means  unimportant  item  in  the  causes  that 
brought  about  the   Restoration.     Parker  is  said  to 
have  been  the  leading  spirit  in  a  society  of  ballad- 
writers  ;    he    certainly   was    not   the   "  Grub    Street 
scribbler"  that  Ritson  has  called  him.    The  Puritans 
hated  this  "  ballad-maker  laureat  of   London,"  and 
lost    no   opportunity   of    denouncing   him   and    his 
works.      Mr.    Chappell    has   written   an  interesting 
notice  of  him   in   his  Popular  Jllusic  of  the  Olden 
Time,  where  he  mentions  some  other  royalist  ballad- 
writers,   as  John    Wade,    the  author  of  The  Royal 
Oak,  Thomas  Weaver,  the  author  of  a  Collection  of 
So?igs,  in  which  he  ridiculed  the  Puritans  so  effec- 
tually that  the  book  was  denounced  as  a  seditious 
libel  against  the  Government,  and  John  Cleveland, 
who,  according  to  Anthony  Wood,  was  the  first  to 
come  forth  as  a  champion  of  the  royal  cause.     The 
last  of  these  was  one  of  the  very  few  ballad  writers 
whose  names  are  enrolled  in  the  list  of  British  poets. 
In    December,    1648,    Captain    Betham    was    ap- 
pointed Provost  Marshal,  with  power  to  seize  upon 
all   ballad-singers,    and    five  years    from    that   date 
there  were  no  more  entries  of  ballads  at  Stationers' 
Hall,  but  when  Cromwell  became  Protector  he  re- 
moved the  ban   against  ballads  and  ballad-singers. 
After  the   Restoration,  the  courtier  poets  wrote  for 
the  streets,  and  therefore  most  of  the  ballads  were 
ranged    on   the  side   of  the    Court.     After  a  time, 
however,  the  Court  fell  into  popular  disfavour,  and 
it    was    then    discovered    that     ballad-singers    and 
pamphleteers  had  too  much  liberty.      Killigrcw,  the 
Master  of  the   Revels  to  Charles   II.,   licensed  all 


xlii  BALLADS    AND 

singers  and  sellers  of  ballads,  and  John  Clarke,  a 
London  bookseller,  rented  of  Killigrew  this  privi- 
lege for  a  period,  which  expired  in  1682.  Besides 
licensers  of  the  singers  and  sellers,  there  were 
licensers  of  the  ballads  themselves.  These  were 
Sir  Roger  L'Estrange,  from  1663  to  1685,  Richard 
Pocock,  from  1685  to  1688,  J.  Fraser,  from  1689  to 
1 69 1,  and  Edmund  Bohun,  who  died  in  1694,  the 
year  that  the  licensing  system  also  expired. 

When  James,  Duke  of  York,  went  to  Scotland  to 
seek  for  that  popularity  which  he  had  lost  in  Eng- 
land, he  is  supposed  to  have  taken  with  him  an 
English  ballad-maker  to  sing  his  praises,  and  this 
man  is  believed  to  have  produced  The  Banishment 
of  Poverty  by  H.R.H.  James,  Duke  of  Alba7iy. 
Ballad-singing  was  very  much  out  of  favour  among 
the  authorities  in  the  eighteenth  century,  and  in 
1 716  the  Middlesex  grand  jury  denounced  the  sing- 
ing of  "scandalous"  ballads  about  the  streets  as  a 
common  nuisance,  tending  to  alienate  the  minds  of 
the  people.  In  July,  1763,  we  are  told  that  "yes- 
terday evening  two  women  were  sent  to  Bridewell 
by  Lord  Bute's  order  for  singing  political  ballads 
before  his  lordship's  door  in  South  Audley  Street." 

Ballads  were  then  pretty  much  the  same  kind  of 
rubbish  that  they  are  now,  and  there  was  little  to 
show  that  they  once  were  excellent.  The  glorious 
days  when — 

"  Thespis,  the  first  professor  of  our  art, 
At  country  wakes  sung  ballads  from  a  cart,"  * 

had  long  ago  departed.    There  are  but  few  instances 

of  true  poets  writing  for  the  streets  in  later  times,  but 

•   we  have  one  in  Oliver  Goldsmith.   In  his  early  life  in 

Dublin,  when  he  often  felt  the  want  of  a  meal,  he  wrote 

*  Dryden's  Prologue  to  Lee's  SopJionisba. 


BALLAD    WRITERS.  xliii 

ballads,  which  found  a  ready  customer  at  five  shillings 
each  at  a  little  bookseller's  shop  in  a  by-street  of 
the  city.  We  are  informed  that  he  was  as  sensitive 
as  to  the  reception  of  these  children  of  his  muse  as 
in  after  years  he  was  of  his  more  ambitious  efforts  ; 
and  he  used  to  stroll  into  the  street  to  hear  his 
ballads  sung,  and  to  mark  the  degrees  of  applause 
with  which  they  were  received.  Most  of  the  modern 
ballad-writers  have  been  local  in  their  fame,  as 
Thomas  Hoggart,  the  uncle  of  Hogarth  the  painter, 
whose  satiric  lash  made  him  a  power  in  his  native 
district  of  Cumberland,  dreaded  alike  by  fools  and 
knaves. 

The  chief  heroes  of  the  older  ballads  were  King  / 
Arthur  and  his  knights,   Robin   Hood,  and  Guy  off  ^-^^ 
Warwick.      The  ballads  relating  to  the  first  of  these 
appear  to  have  been  chiefly  chipped  off  from  the  ^ 

great  cycle  of  Arthurian  romances.     The  popularity  i 
of  Robin  Hood  was  at  one  time  so  great  that  Dray- 
ton prophesied  in  his  Polyolbion : — 

"  In  this  our  spacious  isle  I  think  there  is  not  one 
But  he  hath  heard  some  talk  of  him,  and  little  John, 
And  to  the  end  of  time  the  tales  shall  ne'er  be  done 
Of  Scarlock,  George  a  Green,  and  Much  the  Miller's  son. 
Of  Tuck  the  merry  Friar,  which  many  a  sermon  made 
In  praise  of  Robin  Hood,  his  outlaws,  and  their  trade." 

From  a  local  hero  he  grew  into  national  fame,  and 
superseded  Arthur  in  popular  regard.  He  then  sunk 
into  a  mere  highwayman,  to  be  again  raised  into 
fame  by  literary  men,  Ritson  being  the  chief  of 
these.  Wakefield  is  still  proud  of  its  Finder,  who 
was  one  of  Robin  Hood's  company — 

"  In  Wakefield  there  lives  a  jolly  Finder ; 
In  Wakefield  all  on  a  green," 

and  one  of  the  thoroughfares  of  that  place  is  now 
called  Finder  Field  Road.   Robin  Hood  was  a  purely 


xliv     IMITATORS   AND    FORGERS. 

English  hero,  but  Guy  of  Warwick  was  almost  as 
popular  in  foreign  countries  as  in  his  own  land.  The 
earliest  of  English  political  ballads  was  an  outcome 
of  the  Barons'  wars  in  the  reign  of  Henry  1 11.,''^  and 
each  period  of  political  excitement  since  then  has 
been  represented  in  ballads.  The  controversies 
between  Protestant  and  Papist  were  carried  on  in 
verse,  and  Laud  and  his  clergy  were  attacked  by  the 
ballad-writers  of  the  Puritan  party. 


Imitators  and  Forgers. 

No  attempt  was  made  to  produce  false  antique 
ballads  until  the  true  antiques  had  again  risen  in 
public  esteem,  and  one  of  the  first  to  deceive  the  con- 
noisseurs was  Lady  Wardlaw,  who  was  highly  success- 
ful in  her  object  when  she  gave  Hardykmtte  to  the 
world  (see  vol.  ii.  p.  105).  She  seems  to  have  been 
quite  contented  with  the  success  which  attended  the 
mystification,  and  does  not  appear  to  have  taken  any 
particular  pains  to  keep  her  secret  close.  Suspicions 
were  rife  long  before  the  publication  of  the  Reliques, 
but  when  they  appeared  the  whole  truth  came  out. 
With  regard  to  the  other  ballads,  to  which  she  had 
added  verses,  there  does  not  appear  to  have  been 
any  attempt  at  concealment.  The  recent  endeavour 
to  attribute  a  large  number  of  the  romantic  ballads 
of  Scotland  to  her  pen  will  be  considered  further  on. 

A  large  number  of  poets  have  imitated  the  old 
ballad,  but  very  few  have  been  successful  in  the 
attempt  to  give  their  efforts  the  genuine  ring  of  the 
original.  Tickell  and  Goldsmith  entered  into  the 
spirit  of  their  models,  but  Scott  succeeded  best  in 

*  Richard  of  Almaigne,  see  vol.  ii.  p.  3. 


IMITATORS    AND    FORGERS,      xlv 

old   Elspeth's  fragment  of  a  chant  (the    Battle  of 
Harlaw)  in  the  Antiquary.     \V.  J.  Mickle,  the  trans- 
lator of  the   Liisiad,  contributed  several  imitations 
to  Evans's  Collection  of  Old  Ballads,  but  although 
these  are  beautiful  poems  in  themselves,  their  claim  to 
antiquity  was  made  to  rest  chiefly  upon  a  distorted 
spelling.      One  of  the  most  remarkably  successful 
imitations  of  modern  times  is  the  ballad  of  Trclawjiy, 
which  the  late  Rev.  R.  S.  Hawker,  of  Morwenstow, 
wrote  to  suit  the  old  burden  of  "And  shall  Trelawny 
die."    This  spirited  ballad  deceived  Scott,  Macaulay, 
and  Dickens,  who  all  believed  it  to  be  genuine,  and  j 
quoted  it  as  such.      In  1846  it  was  actually  printed 
by  J.  H.  Dixon  in  his  "  Ancient  Poems,  Ballads,  and 
Songs  of  the  Peasantry  of  England,  taken  down  from 
oral   tradition,  and  transcribed  from  private   manu- 
scripts,   rare   broadsides,    and   scarce    publications," 
published  by  the   Percy  Society.      Mr.   Dixon  was 
probably  deceived  by  Davies  Gilbert,  who  sent  the 
ballad  to  the  Gentleman  s  Magazine  m.  1827,  and  said 
that  it  formerly  "  resounded  in  every  house,  in  every 
highway,  and  in  every  street."    In  1832  Hawker  had, 
however,  himself  acknowledged  the  authorship.    He 
wrote  in  his  Records  of  the  Western  Shore  (p.   56), 
"  With  the  exception  of  the  chorus  contained  in  the 
last  two  lines,  this  song  was  written  by  me  in  the 
year  1825.     It  was  soon  after  inserted  in  a  Plymouth 
paper.     It  happened  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  Davies 
Gilbert,  Esq.,  who  did  me  the  honour  to  reprint  it  at 
his  private  press  at  East  Bourne,  under  the  impres- 
sion, I  believe,  that  it  is  an  early  composition  of  my 
own.      The   two  lines   above-mentioned   formed,    I 
believe,  the  burthen  of  the  old  song,  and  are  all  that 
I  can  recover."  *     Hawker  was  fond  of  these  mysti- 
fications, and  although  he  did  not  care  to  lose  the 

*  Notes  and  Queries,  5th  series,  vol.  v.  p.  524. 


xlvi     IMITATORS   AND    FORGERS. 

credit  of  his  productions,  he  was  amused  to  see 
another  of  his  ballads,  Sir  Beville,  find  its  way  into 
a  collection  of  old  ballads. 

A  far  more  beautiful  ballad  than  Hardykmite  is 
Auld  Robin  Gray,  in  which  a  lady  of  rank  caught 
the  spirit  of  the  tender  songs  of  peasant  life  with  ex- 
cellent effect.  Lady  Anne  Barnard  kept  her  secret 
for  fifty  years,  and  did  not  acknowledge  herself  the 
author  of  it  until  1823,  when  she  disclosed  the  fact  in 
a  letter  to  Sir  Walter  Scott. 

These  were  harmless  attempts  to  deceive,  such  as 
will  always  be  common  among  those  who  take  a 
pleasure  in  reducing  the  pride  of  the  experts ;  and 
when  they  were  discovered  no  one  was  found  to  have 
been  injured  by  the  deceit.  It  is  far  different,  how- 
ever, when  a  forgery  is  foisted  in  among  genuine 
works,  because  when  a  discovery  is  made  of  its  un- 
trustworthiness,  the  reputation  of  the  true  work  is 
injured  by  this  association  with  the  false.  Pinkerton 
inserted  a  large  number  of  his  own  poems  in  his 
edition  of  Select  Scottish  Ballads  (t  783),  which  poems 
he  alleged  to  be  ancient.  He  was  taken  severely  to 
task  by  Ritson  on  account  of  these  fabrications,  and 
he  afterwards  acknowledged  his  deceit.'"" 

One  of  the  most  barefaced  of  literary  deceptions 
was  the  work  published  in  1810  by  R.  H.  Cromek, 
under  the  title  of  Remains  of  Nithsdale  and  Galloway 
Song.  Although  the  ballads  contained  in  these 
volumes  are  very  varied  in  their  subject,  they  were 
almost  entirely  composed  by  Allan  Cunningham, 
who  produced  whatever  was  required  of  him  by  his 
employer. 
''"  Poets  are  often  the  worst  of  editors,  as  they  find 
the  temptation  to  "improve"  their  originals  too 
strong  to  resist.     Allan   Cunningham  published  in 

*  See  Ancie?it  Scottish  Poems,  1786,  vol.  i.  p.  cxxxi. 


IMITATORS    AND    FORGERS,     xlvii 

1826  a  collection  of  the  So7igs  of  Scotland,  in  which 
he  availed  himself  so  largely  of  this  license  that 
Motherwell  felt  called  upon  to  reprobate  the  work  in 
the  strongest  terms.  He  observes:  "While  thus 
violating  ancient  soncr,  he  seems  to  have  been  well 
aware  of  the  heinousness  of  his  offending.  He  might 
shudder  and  sicken  at  his  revolting  task  indeed  !  To 
soothe  his  own  alarmed  conscience;  and,  if  possible, 
to  reconcile  the  mind  of  his  readers  to  his  wholesale 
mode  of  hacking  and  hewing  and  breaking  the  joints 
of  ancient  and  traditionary  song  ;  and  to  induce  them 
to  receive  with  favour  the  conjectural  emendations 
it  likes  him  to  make,  he,  in  the  course  of  his  progress, 
not  unfrequently  chooses  to  sneer  at  those,  and  to 
underrate  their  labours,  who  have  used  their  best 
endeavours  to  preserve  ancient  song  in  its  primitive 
and  uncontaminated  form."*  These  are  by  no  means 
the  hardest  words  used  by  Motherwell  in  respect  to 
the  Songs  of  Scotla^id. 

The  worst  among  the  forgers,  however,  was  a  man 
who  ought  to  have  been  above  such  dishonourable 
work,  viz.,  Robert  Surtees,  the  author  of  the  His- 
tory of  the  County  Palatine  of  Durham,  in  whose 
honour  the  Surtees  Society  was  founded.  In  Scott's 
Minstrelsy  of  the  Scottish  Border  will  be  found  three 
ballads —  The  Death  of  Featherstonhaugh,  Lord Ewrie, 
and  Bartranis  Dirge,  which  are  treated  by  Sir 
Walter  as  true  antiques,  and  of  the  genuine  character 
of  which  he  never  had  a  doubt.  They  are  all  three, 
however,  mere  figments  of  Surtces's  imagination. 
Each  of  the  ballads  was  accompanied  by  hctitious 
historical  incidents,  to  give  it  an  extra  appearance  of 
authenticity.  Feathersto}ihaugh\N:xs,^:nd\.o  be  "taken 
down  from  the  recitation  of  a  woman  eighty  years  of 
age,  mother  of  one  of  the  miners  in  Alston  Moor;" 

•  Minstrelsy,  Ancient  and  Modern,  1827,  p.  xcvii. 


xlviii  AUTHENTICITY    OF 

Lord  Ewrie  was  obtained  from  "  Rose  Smith,  of 
Bishop  Middleham,  a  woman  aged  upwards  of  ninety- 
one  ;"  and  Bartrams Dirge ixom.  "Anne  Douglas,  an 
old  woman  who  weeded  in  his  (Surtees's)  garden." 
On  other  occasions  Sir  Walter  Scott  was  deluded  by 
his  friend  with  false  information.  Mr.  George  Tay- 
lor makes  the  following  excuse  in  his  Lifeof  Surtees 
(p.  25):  "  Mr.  Surtees  no  doubt  had  wished  to  have 
the  success  of  his  attempt  tested  by  the  unbiassed 
opinion  of  the  very  first  authority  on  the  subject,  and 
the  result  must  have  been  gratifying  to  him.  But  at 
a  later  period  of  their  intimacy,  when  personal  regard 
was  added  to  high  admiration  for  his  correspondent, 
he  probably  would  not  have  subjected  him  to  the 
mortification  of  finding  that  he  could  be  imposed  on 
in  a  matter  where  he  had  a  right  to  consider  himself 
as  almost  infallible.  And  it  was  most  likely  from 
this  feeling  that  Mr.  Surtees  never  acknowledged  the 
imposition:  for  so  late  as  the  year  1830,  in  which 
Scott  dates  his  introduction  to  the  edition  of  the 
Minstrelsy,  published  in  183 1,  the  ballad  of  the  Death 
of  Feather stonhaugh  retains  its  place  (vol.  i.  p.  240) 
with  the  same  expressions  of  obligation  to  Mr.  Sur- 
tees for  the  communication  of  it,  and  the  same  com- 
mendation of  his  learned  proofs  of  its  authenticity." 
In  spite  of  this  attempted  justification,  we  cannot  fail 
to  stigmatize  Surtees's  forgery  as  a  crime  against 
letters  which  fouls  the  very  wells  of  truth. 


Authenticity  of  Certain  Ballads. 

As  was  to  be  expected,  the  existence  of  the  forge- 
ries just  referred  to  caused  several  persons  to  doubt 
the  genuineness  of  many  of  the  true  ballads.  Finlay 
wrote,  in  1808,  "the  mention  of  hats  and  cork-heeled 
shoon  (in  the  ballad  of  Sir  Patrick  Spence)  would  lead 


CERTAIN   BALLADS.  xlix 

us  to  infer  that  some  stanzas  are  interpolated,  or  that 
its  composition  is  of  a  comparatively  modern  date;"* 
and,  in  1839,  the  veteran  ballad-collector,  Mr.  David 
Lainor,  wrote  as  follows :  "  Notwithstandine  the  o-reat 
antiquit)'that  has  been  claimed  for  Sir  Patrick  Spence, 
one  of  the  finest  ballads  in  our  language,  very  little 
evidence  would  be  required  to  persuade  me  but  that 
we  were  also  indebted  for  it  to  Lady  Wardlaw  {Sien- 
houscs  I/lustrations  of  the  Lyric  Poetry  and  Music 
of  Scotland,  with  additional  notes  to  Johnson's  Scots 
Musical  Musetwt,  p.  320*).  At  p.  457*  of  the  same 
book,  Mr.  Laing,  after  quoting  from  Finlay,  made  the 
following  further  observations  :  "  Bishop  Percy  also 
remarks  that  '  an  ingenious  friend  thinks  the  author 
of  Hardyknute  has  borrowed  several  expressions  and 
sentiments  from  the  foreoroinof  and  other  old  Scottish 
sonofs  in  this  collection.'  It  was  this  resemblance 
with  the  localities  Dunfermline  and  Aberdour,  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  Sir  Henry  Wardlaw's  seat,  that  led 
me  to  throw  out  the  conjecture,  whether  this  much- 
admired  ballad  might  not  also  have  been  written  by 
Lady  Wardlaw  herself,  to  whom  the  ballad  oi  Hardy - 
knute  is  now  universally  attributed."  f 

Mr.  J.  H.  Dixon,  in  1845,  considered  that  the  sus- 
picion had  become  a  certainty,  and  wrote  of  Lady 
Wardlaw  as  one  "  who  certainly  appears  to  have  been 

*  Scottish  Ballads,  vol.  i.  p.  46. 

t  Mr.  Laing,  with  his  usual  kindness,  has  been  so  good  as  to 
answer  my  inquiry  whether  he  still  held  the  opinion  he  published 
in  1839.  He  writes  (June  2,  1876)  :  "  I  still  adhere ,to  the  general 
inference  that  this  ballad  is  comparatively  a  modern  imitation,  and 
although  we  have  no  positive  evidence  as  to  the  authorship,  I  can 
think  of  no  one  that  was  so  likely  to  have  written  it  as  Elizabeth 
Halket,  Lady  Wardlaw  of  Pitreavie,  who  died  in  1727,  aged  fifty. 
Had  Bishop  Percy's  correspondence  with  Sir  David  Dalrymplc, 
Lord  Hailes,  been  preserved,  some  interesting  information  would 
no  doubt  have  been  obtained  regarding  these  ballads  sent  from 
Scotland." 

d 


1  AUTHENTICITY   OF 

a  great  adept  at  this  species  of  literary  imposture." 
"  This  celebrated  lady  is  now  known  to  be  the  author 
of  Edward!  Edward!  and  of  Sir  Patrick  Spence,  in 
addition  to  Hardy knute.""^  Mr.  Dixon  and  the  late 
Mr.  Robert  Chambers  have  also  thrown  out  hints  of 
their  disbelief  in  the  authenticity  of  the  recitations  of 
Mrs.  Brown  of  Falkland. 

These,  however,  were  mere  skirmishing  attacks,  but 
in  1859  Robert  Chambers  marshalled  his  forces,  and 
made  a  decisive  charge  in  his  publication  entitled  The 
Romantic  Scottish  Ballads,  their  Epoch  and  Author- 
ship.    He  there  explains  his  belief  as  follows  : — 

"  Upon  all  these  considerations  I  have  arrived  at 
the  conclusion  that  the  high-class  romantic  ballads  of 
Scotland  are  not  ancient  compositions — are  not  older 
than  the  early  part  of  the  eighteenth  century — and 
are  mainly,  if  not  wholly,  the  production  of  one  mind. 
Whose  was  this  mind  is  a  different  question,  on  which 
no  such  confident  decision  may,  for  the  present,  be 
arrived  at ;  but  I  have  no  hesitation  in  saying  that, 
from  the  internal  resemblance  traced  on  from  Hardy- 
knute  through  Sir  Patrick  Spence  and  Gil  Morrice  to 
the  others,  there  seems  to  be  a  great  likelihood  that 
the  whole  were  the  composition  of  the  authoress  of 
that  poem,  namely,  Elizabeth  Lady  Wardlaw  of  Pit- 
reavie." 

Scotsmen  were  not  likely  to  sit  down  tamely 
under  an  accusation  by  which  their  principal  ballad 
treasures  were  thus  stigmatized  as  false  gems,  and 
we  find  that  several  writers  immediately  took  up  their 
pens  to  refute  the  calumny.  It  will  be  seen  that  the 
charge  is  divided  into  two  distinct  parts,  and  it  will 
be  well  to  avoid  mixing  them  together,  and  to  con- 
sider each  part  separately. 

*  Scottish  Traditional  Versions  of  Ancient  Ballads  (Percy  Society, 
vol.  xvii.  p.  xi.). 


CERTAIN   BALLADS.  li 

I.  Certain  ballads,  generally  supposed  to  be  genu- 
ine, were  really  written  by  one  person,  in  imitation  of 
the  antique. 

II.  The  author  of  this  deceit  was  Lady  Wardlaw, 
the  writer  of  Hardykjiutc. 

I,  The  ballads  in  the  Reliques,  which  are  instanced 
by  Chambers,  are  as  follows  : — 

1.  Sir  Patrick  Spejice. 

2.  Gil  Morricc. 

3.  Ediuard  I  Edward! 

4.  yews  Datightcr. 

5.  Gilderoy. 

6.  Yo7i7ig  JVaters. 

7.  Edom  d  Gordon. 

8.  Bonny  Earl  of  Mtirray. 

Two  of  these  (2  and  7)  are  in  the  Folio  MS.,  which 
was  written  before  Lady  Wardlaw  was  born  ;  Edom 
d Gordoji  also  exists  in  another  old  MS.  copy  ;  Gilde- 
roy (5)  is  known  to  have  been  a  street  ballad,  and  the 
remainder  are  found  in  other  copies.  It  is  not  neces- 
sary to  discuss  each  of  these  cases  separately,  and  we 
shall  therefore  reserve  what  we  have  to  say  for  the 
special  consideration  of  Sir  Patj'ick  Spcncc. 

Before  proceeding,  we  must  first  consider  how  far 
Chambers's  previous  knowledge  of  ballad  literature 
prepared  him  for  this  inquiry ;  and  we  cannot  rate 
that  knowledge  very  highly,  for  in  his  Collcctioji  of 
Scottish  Songs,  he  actually  attributes  Wotton's  Ye 
Aleaner  Beatcties  to  Darnley,  and  supposes  Mary 
Queen  of  Scots  to  have  been  the  subject  of  the  au- 
thor's praises.  At  this  period  also  his  scepticism  had 
not  been  aroused,  for  all  the  ballads  that  he  thought 
spurious  in  1859  had  been  printed  by  him  in  1829  as 
genuine  productions. 

To  return  to  the  main  point  at  issue.  Chambers 
writes  : — 


lii  AUTHENTICITY    OF 

"  It  is  now  to  be  remarked  of  the  ballads  published 
by  the  successors  of  Percy,  as  of  those  which  he  pub- 
lished, that  there  is  not  a  particle  of  positive  evidence 
for  their  having  existed  before  the  eighteenth  cen- 
tury. Overlooking  the  one  given  by  Ramsay  in  his 
Tea-table  Miscellany,  we  have  neither  print  nor  manu- 
script of  them  before  the  reign  of  George  III.  They 
are  not  in  the  style  of  old  literature.  They  contain 
no  references  to  old  literature.  As  little  does  old 
literature  contain  any  references  to  them.  They 
wholly  escaped  the  collecting  diligence  of  Banna- 
tyne.  James  Watson,  who  published  a  collection  of 
Scottish  poetry  in  1706-1 71 1,  wholly  overlooks  them. 
Ramsay,  as  we  see,  caught  up  only  one." 

Mr.  Norval  Clyne  {Ballads  from  Scottish  His- 
tory, 1863,  p.  217)  gives  a  satisfactory  answer  to  the 
above.     He  writes  : — 

"  The  want  of  any  ancient  manuscript  can  be  no 
argument  against  the  antiquity  of  a  poem,  versions 
of  which  have  been  obtained  from  oral  recitation, 
otherwise  the  great  mass  of  ballads  of  all  kinds  col- 
lected by  Scott,  and  by  others  since  his  time,  must 
lie  under  equal  suspicion.  Bannatyne,  in  the  sixteenth 
"century,  and  Allan  Ramsay,  in  the  early  part  of  the 
eighteenth,  were  not  collectors  of  popular  poetry  in 
the  same  sense  as  those  who  have  since  been  so 
active  in  that  field.  The  former  contented  himself, 
for  the  most  part,  with  transcribing  the  compositions 
of  Dunbar,  Henrysone,  and  other  "  makers,"  well 
known  by  name,  and  Ramsay  took  the  bulk  of  his 
Evergreen  from  Bannatyne's  MS.  That  a  great 
many  poems  of  the  ballad  class,  afterwards  collected 
and  printed,  must  have  been  current  among  the  people 
when  the  Everg7'-een  was  published,  no  one  that  knows 
anything  of  the  subject  will  deny."  The  old  ballads 
lived  on  the  tongues  of  the  people,  and  a  small  per- 
centage of  them  only  were  ever  committed  to  writing, 


CERTAIN   BALLADS.  liii 

so  that  a  fairer  test  of  authenticity  is  the  existence  of 
various  versions.  Of  known  forgeries  no  varieties 
exist,  but  several  versions  of  Sir  Patrick  Spence  have 
been  rescued  from  obHvion, 

It  is  not  probable  that  any  fresh  ballads  will  be 
obtained  from  recitation,  but  it  is  in  some  degree  pos- 
sible, as  may  be  seen  from  an  instance  of  a  kindred 
nature  in  the  field  of  language.  We  know  that  local 
dialects  have  almost  passed  away,  and  yet  some  of 
the  glossaries  of  them  lately  issued  contain  words  that 
explain  otherwise  dark  passages  in  manuscripts  of  the 
twelfth  and  thirteenth  centuries. 

Chambers  further  affirms  that  the  sentiment  of 
these  ballads  is  not  congenial  to  that  of  the  peasantry 
— "  it  may  be  allowably  said,  there  is  a  tone  oi  breeding 
throughout  these  ballads,  such  as  is  never  found  in 
the  productions  of  rustic  genius."  This,  however,  is 
begging  the  question,  for  it  does  not  follow  that  the 
songs  of  the  peasantry  were  written  by  the  peasantry. 
It  is  they  who  have  remembered  them,  and  held  to 
them  with  greater  tenacity  than  the  educated  classes. 

We  now  come  to  the  text  that  bears  specially  upon 
Sir  Patrick  Spence,  and  we  will  give  it  in  Chambers's 
own  words  : — "  The  Scottish  ladies  sit  bewailing  the 
loss  of  Sir  Patrick  Spence's  companions  '  wi'  the 
gowd  kaims  in  their  hair.'  Sir  Patrick  tells  his  friends 
before  starting  on  his  voyage, '  Our  ship  must  sail  the 
faem  ;'*  and  in  the  description  of  the  consequences  of 
his  shipwreck,  we  find  '  Mony  was  the  feather-bed 
that  flattered  on  the  faem.'*  No  old  poet  would  use 
faem  as  an  equivalent  for  the  sea  ;  but  it  was  just 
such  a  phrase  as  a  poet  of  the  era  of  Pope  would 
love  to  use  in  that  sense."  In  the  first  place,  we 
should  be  justified  in  saying  that  this  test  is  not  a 

•  Neither  of  these  lines  occur  in  Percy's  versiun,  but  they  are 
both  in  the  one  printed  by  Scott. 


liv  AUTHENTICITY    OF 

fair  one,  because  no  one  will  contend  that  the  ballads 
have  not  been  altered  in  passing  from  hand  to  hand, 
and  new  words  inserted  ;  but  Mr.  Norval  Clyne  has 
a  complete  answer  for  this  particular  objection  ;  he 
writes  :  "Bishop  Gawin  Douglas  completed  his  trans- 
lation of  Virgil's  ^neid  on  22nd  July,  15 13,  and  in 
his  Prologue  to  the  twelfth  book  are  these  lines  : — 

'  Some  sang  ring-sangs,  dancis,  ledis,  roundis, 
With  vocis  schil,  quhil  all  the  dale  resounds, 
Quhareto  they  walk  into  their  karoling, 
For  amourous  layis  dois  all  the  rochis  ring : 
Ane  sang  '  The  schip  salis  over  the  salt  fame. 
Will  bring  thir  merchandis  and  my  lemane  hame.' 

Here  we  have  the  expression,  to  which  attention  is 
called,  occurring  in  a  popular  song  in  common  use 
before  the  battle  of  Flodden.  I  have  seen  it  re- 
marked, however,  that  it  is  the  elliptical  use  of  '  sail 
the  faem '  for  '  sail  over  the  faem,'  which  indicates 
an  authorship  not  older  than  the  day  of  Queen  Anne. 
My  answer  to  this  objection  shall  also  be  an  ex- 
ample from  an  '  old  poet'  One  of  the  Tales  of  the 
Three  Priests  of  Feb  lis  assigned  to  the  early  part 
of  the  sixteenth  century,  describes  in  homely  verse 
the  career  of  a  thrifty  burgess,  and  contains  these 
lines  {Siddald's  Chronicle  0/  Scottish  Foetry,  1802): — 

'  Then  bocht  he  wool,  and  Avyselie  couth  it  wey ; 
And  efter  that  sone  saylit  he  the  sey.'  "  * 

These  quotations  completely  set  aside  one  portion 
of  the  charge,  and  the  other,  in  which  an  attempt  is 
made  to  show  that  a  similar  form  of  expression  is 
constantly  occurring  in  the  several  poems,  is  really  of 
little  weight,  pressed  as  it  is  with  some  unfairness. 
We  have  already  seen  that  the  old  minstrels  used 
certain  forms  of  expression  as  helps  to  memory,  and 

*  Ballads  from  Scottish  History ,  1863,  pp.  223-4. 


CERTAIN   BALLADS.  Iv 

these  recur  in  ballads  that  have  little  or  no  connection 
with  each  other.     Chambers,  followintr  David  Laing, 
uses  Percy's  note  at  the  end  of  Sir  Patrick  Spence  * 
as  an  engine  of  attack  against  the  authenticity  of 
the  ballad,  but  there  is  really  no  reason  for  the  con- 
clusion he  comes  to,  "that  the  parity  he  remarked  in 
the  expressions  was  simply  owing  to  the  two  ballads 
being  the  production  of  one  mind,"  for  a  copyist  well 
acquainted  with  ballad  literature  would  naturally  adopt 
the  expressions  found  in  them  in  his  own  composition. 
II.  The  consideration  of  the   opinion  that  Lady 
Wardlaw  was  the  author  of  Sir  Patrick  Speiice  and 
other  ballads,  need  not  detain  us  long,  because  the 
main  point  of  interest  is  their  authenticity,  and  the 
question    of   her    authorship    is    quite    a    secondary 
matter  :  that  falls  to  the  ground  if  the  grand  charge 
is   proved   false,   and   need  not   stand   even  if  that 
remains    unrefuted.       The    only    reason    for    fixing 
upon    Lady  Wardlaw   appears    to    have   been    that 
as  these  ballads  were  transmitted  to  Percy  by  Lord 
Hailes,   and  one  of  them  was  an  imitation  of  the 
antique  by  Lady  Wardlaw,  and  another  was  added 
to  by  the  same  lady,  therefore  if  a  similarity  between 
the  ballads  could  be  proved,  it  would  follow  that  all 
were  written  by  her.     Now  the  very  fact  that  the 
authorship   of  Hardykmite  was   soon  discovered   is 
strong  evidence  against  any  such  supposition,  because 
none  of  her  associates  had  any  suspicion  that  she  had 
counterfeited  other  ballads,  and  could  such  a  whole- 
sale manufacture  have  been  concealed  for  a  century 
it  would  be  a  greater  mystery  than  the  vexed  ques- 
tion, who  was  Junius  ?     The  other  point,  whether 
the  author  of  the  indistinct  and  redundant  Ilardy- 


*  "An  ingenious  friend  thinks  the  author  of  Hardyknutc  has 
borrowed  several  expressions  and  sentiments  from  the  foregoing 
and  other  old  Scottish  songs  in  this  collection." 


Ivi  AUTHENTICITY    OF 

knute  could  have  written  the  clear  and  incisive  lines 
of  Sir  Patrick  Spence  may  be  left  to  be  decided  by 
readers  who  have  the  two  poems  before  them  in 
these  volumes. 

A  few  particulars  may,  however,  be  mentioned. 
The  openings  of  these  ballads  form  excellent  con- 
trasted examples  of  the  two  different  styles  of  ballad 
writing.  Sir  Patrick  Spence  commences  at  once,  like 
other  minstrel  ballads,  with  the  description  of  the 
king  and  his  council : — 

"  The  king  sits  in  Dumferling  toune, 

Drinking  the  blude-reid  wine : 
O  quhar  will  I  get  guid  sailor 

To  sail  this  schip  of  mine  ? 

Up  and  spak  an  eldern  knicht, 

Sat  at  the  kings  richt  kne  : 
Sir  Patrick  Spence  is  the  best  sailor, 

That  sails  upon  the  se." 

The  king  then  sends  a  letter  to  Spence.  There  is 
no  description  of  how  this  was  sent,  but  we  at  once 

read  : — 

"The  first  line  that  Sir  Patrick  red, 

A  loud  lauch  lauched  he  ; 
The  next  line  that  Sir  Patrick  red, 

The  teir  bHnded  his  ee." 

Hardyknute,  on  the  other  hand,  is  full  of  reasons 
and  illustrative  instances  in  the  true  ballad-writer's 

style : — 

"  Stately  stept  he  east  the  wa', 

And  stately  stept  he  west, 
Full  seventy  years  he  now  had  seen 

Wi'  scarce  seven  years  of  rest. 
He  liv'd  when  Britons  breach  of  faith 

Wrought  Scotland  mickle  wae  : 
And  ay  his  sword  tauld  to  their  cost, 

He  was  their  deadlye  fae." 

Having  placed  the  openings   of  the  two  poems 
in  opposition,  we  will  do  the  same  with  the  endings. 


CERTAIN    BALLADS.  Ivii 

How  different  is  the  grand   finish  of  Sir  Patrick 
Spence — 

"  Have  owre,  have  owre  to  Aberdour, 

It's  fiftie  fadom  deip, 
And  thair  lies  guid  Sir  Patrick  Spence, 
\Vi'  the  Scots  lords  at  his  feit." 

from  the  feeble  conckision  of  Hardyhmtc : — 

"  '  As  fast  I've  sped  owre  Scotlands  faes,' — 

There  ceas'd  his  brag  of  weir, 
Sair  sham'd  to  mind  ought  but  his  dame, 

And  maiden  fairly  fair. 
Black  fear  he  felt,  but  what  to  fear 

He  wist  nae  yet ;  wi'  dread 
Sai  shook  his  body,  sair  his  limbs, 

And  a'  the  warrior  fled." 

Sir  Pat7'ick  Spence  gives  us  a  clear  picture  that  a 
painter  could  easily  reproduce,  but  Hardyknute  is  so 
vao'ue  that  it  is  sometimes  difficult  to  follow  it  with 
understanding,  and  if  the  same  author  wrote  them 
both  she  must  have  been  so  strangely  versatile  in 
her  talents  that  there  is  no  difficulty  in  believing 
that  she  wrote  all  the  romantic  ballads  of  Scotland. 

How  little  Chambers  can  be  trusted  may  be  seen 
in  the  following  passage,  where  he  writes  :  "  The  first 
hint  at  the  real  author  came  out  through  Percy,  who 
in  his  second  edition  of  the  Reliques  (i  767)  gives  the 
following  statement,  '  There  is  more  than  reason,' 
&c.,*  to  which  he  adds  the  note:  '  It  is  rather  remark- 
able that  Percy  was  not  informed  of  these  particulars 
in  1765  ;  but  in  1767,  Sir  JoJin  Hope  Bruce  having 
died  in  the  interval  (June,  1766),  they  were  communi- 
cated to  him.  It  looks  as  if  the  secret  had  hung  on 
the  life  of  this  venerable  gentleman."  Who  would 
suspect,  what  is  the  real  fact  of  the  case,  that  Percy's 
quoted  preface  was  actually  printed  in  his  first  cdi- 


See  vol.  ii.  p.  105,  of  the  present  edition. 


Iviii  PRESERVERS    OF 

tion  (1765),  and  that  Chambers's  remarks  fall  to  the 
ground  because  they  are  founded  on  a  gross  blun- 
der.* 

Preservers  of  the  Ballads. 

Printed  broadsides  are  peculiarly  liable  to  accidents 
which  shorten  their  existence,  and  we  therefore  owe 
much  to  the  collectors  who  have  saved  some  few  of 
them  from  destruction.  Ballads  were  usually  pasted 
on  their  walls  by  the  cottagers,  but  they  were  some- 
times collected  together  in  bundles.  Motherwell  had 
"  heard  it  as  a  by-word  in  some  parts  of  Stirling- 
shire that  a  collier's  library  consists  but  of  four 
books,  the  Confession  of  Faith,  the  Bible,  a  bundle 
of  Ballads,  and  Sir  William  Wallace.  The  first  for 
the  gudewife,  the  second  for  the  gudeman,  the  third 
for  their  daughter,  and  the  last  for  the  son,  a  selec- 
tion indicative  of  no  mean  taste  in  these  grim  mold- 
warps  of  humanity."  f 

The  love  of  a  good  ballad  has,  however,  never 
been  confined  to  the  uneducated.  Queen  Mary  II., 
after  listening  to  the  compositions  of  Purcell,  played 
by  the  composer  himself,  asked  Mrs.  Arabella  Hunt 
to  sing  Tom  D'Urfey's  ballad  of  "Cold  and  Raw," 
which  was  set  to  a  good  old  tune,  and  thereby 
offended  Purcell's  vanity,  who  was  left  unemployed 
at  the  harpsichord.  Nevertheless,  the  composer  had 
the  sense  afterwards  to  introduce  the  tune  as  the  bass 
of  a  sonof  he  wrote  himself.     When  ballads  were  in- 

*  It  has  been  necessary  in  the  foregoing  remarks  to  give  reasons 
why  the  opinions  of  the  late  Dr.  Robert  Chambers  on  this  subject 
are  not  to  be  taken  on  trust,  but  it  is  hoped  that  these  criticisms 
will  not  be  understood  as  written  with  any  wish  to  detract  from 
the  literary  character  of  one  who  did  so  much  good  work  during  a 
laborious  and  ever  active  life. 

t  Minstrelsy,  p.  xlvi. 


THE    BALLADS.  lix 

tended  for  the  exclusive  use  of  the  ordinary  ballad- 
buyers  they  were  printed  in  black  letter,  a  type  that 
was  retained  for  this  purpose  for  more  than  a  century 
after   it   had   gone    out  of  use  for  other  purposes. 
According  to  Pepys  the  use  of  black  letter  ceased 
about  the  year  1700,  and  on  the  title-page   of   his 
collection    he    has    written    "  the    whole    continued 
down  to  the  year    1700,  when  the    form    till    then 
peculiar  thereto,  viz.  of  the  black  letter  with  pictures, 
seems  (for  cheapness  sake)  wholly  laid  aside  for  that 
of  the  white  letter  without  pictures."     White-letter 
printing  of  non-political   street   ballads   really  com- 
menced about    1685,   and  of  political   ballads  about 
half  a  century  earlier.       The  saving  referred  to  by 
Pepys  as  being  made  by  the  omission  of  woodcuts 
could  not  have  been  great,  for  they  seldom  illustrated 
the  letterpress,  and  were  used  over  and  over  again, 
so  that  cuts  which  were   executed   in  the   reign  of 
James    I.  were  used   on  ballads    in  Queen  Anne's 
time. 

Until  about  the  year  171 2  ballads  were  universally 
printed  on  broadsides,  and  those  intended  to  be  sold 
in  the  streets  are  still  so  printed,  but  after  that  date 
such  as  were  intended  to  be  vended  about  the  country 
were  printed  so  as  to  fold  into  book  form. 

The  great  ballad  factory  has  been  for  many  years 
situated  in  Seven  Dials,  where  Pitts  employed  Cor- 
coran and  was  the  patron  of  "  slender  Ben,"  "  over 
head  and  ears  Nic,"  and  other  equally  respectably 
named  poets.  The  renowned  Catnach  lived  in 
Seven  Dials,  and  left  a  considerable  business  at  his 
death.  He  was  the  first  to  print  yards  of  songs  for 
a  penny,  and  his  fame  was  so  extended,  that  his 
name  has  come  to  be  used  for  a  s[)ecial  class  of 
literature. 

Although,    thanks    to   the   labours   of   far-sighted 
men,  our  stock  of  old  ballads  and  songs  is  large,  we 


Ix  PRESERVERS    OF 

know  that  those  which  are  irrevocably  lost  far 
exceed  them  in  number.  It  is  therefore  something 
to  recover  even  the  titles  of  some  of  these,  and  we 
can  do  this  to  a  considerable  extent  by  seeking 
them  in  some  of  the  old  specimens  of  literature.  In 
Cockelbies  Sow,  a  piece  written  about  1450,  which 
was  printed  in  Laing's  Select  Remains  of  the  Ancient 
Popular  Poetry  of  Scotland  (Edinburgh,  1822),  there 
is  a  list  of  the  songs  sung  at  a  meeting.  In  Henry- 
son's  curious  old  pastoral,  Robin  and  Makyne  (vol. 
2,  p.  85),  reference  is  made  to  the  popular  tales  and 
songs,  which  were  even  then  old  : — 

"  Robin,  thou  hast  heard  sung  and  say, 

In  gests  and  storys  auld, 
'  The  man  that  will  not  when  he  may 

Sail  hav  nocht  when  he  wald.'  " 

To  the  prologues  of  Gawin  Douglas's  transla- 
tion of  Virgil's  yEneid,  we  are  indebted  for  a  know- 
ledge of  four  old  songs,  a  fact  that  outweighs  in  the 
opinion  of  some  the  merits  of  the  work  itself,  which 
was  the  first  translation  of  a  classic  that  ever  ap- 
peared in  England. 

In  the  Catalogue  of  Captain  Cox's  Library,  printed 
in  Laneham's  letter  on  the  Kenilworth  entertain- 
ments, there  is  a  short  list  of  some  of  the  popular 
ballads  of  his  time,  but  it  is  sorely  tantalizing  to  read 
of  "a  bunch  of  ballets  and  songs  all  auncient,"  "and 
a  hundred  more  he  hath  fair  wrapt  in  parchment, 
and  bound  with  a  whipcord."  We  learn  the  names 
of  ballads  which  were  popular  in  old  Scotland  from 
the  Complaynt  of  Scotland,  a  most  interesting  list, 
which  Mr.  Furnivall  has  fully  illustrated  and  ex- 
plained in  his  edition  of  Laneham.  Another  source 
of  information  for  learning  the  names  of  songs  no 
longer  known  to  exist  are  the  medleys,  which  are 
made  up  of   the  first   lines   of  many  songs.      The 


THE    BALLADS  Ixi 

extreme  popularity  of  ballads  in  the  sixteenth  and 
seventeenth  centuries  is  reflected  in  the  literature  of 
the  time,  which  is  full  of  allusions  to  them.  Burton, 
the  anatomist  of  melancholy,  who  put  a  little  of 
almost  everything  into  his  book,  could  not  be  ex- 
pected to  overlook  ballads.  He  says  :  "  The  very 
rusticks  and  hog-rubbers  ....  have  their  wakes, 
whitson  ales,  shepherds'  feasts,  meetings  on  holy 
dayes,  countrey  dances,  roundelayes  .  .  .  instead  of 
odes,  epigrams  and  elegies,  &c.,  they  have  their 
ballads,  countrey  tunes,  O  the  Broom,  the  bonny, 
bo7iny  Broom,  ditties  and  songs,  Bess  a  Bell  she  doth 
excel!'  The  favourite  songs  of  Father  Rosin,  the 
minstrel  in  Ben  Jonson's  Tale  of  a  Tub  (act  i. 
sc.  2),  are  Tom  Tiler,  the  Jolly  Joiner,  and  the 
yovial  Tinker.  The  old  drama  is  full  of  these 
references,  and  one  of  the  most  frequent  modes  of 
revenge  against  an  enemy  was  to  threaten  that  he 
should  be  balladed.     Thus  Massinger  writes  : — 

"  I  will  have  thee 
Pictur'd  as  thou  art  now,  and  thy  whole  story 
Sung  to  some  villainous  tune  in  a  lewd  ballad, 
And  make  thee  so  notorious  in  the  world, 
That  boys  in  the  street  shall  hoot  at  thee."  * 

Fletcher  sets  side  by  side  as  equal  evils  the  having 
one's  eyes  dug  out,  and  the  having  one's  name 
sung 

"  In  ballad  verse,  at  every  drinking  house."  \ 

The  ballad-writers  are  called  base  rogues,  and  said 
to  "  maintaine  a  St.  Anthonie's  fire  in  their  noses 
by  nothing  but  two-penny  ale."J 

Shakspere  was  not  behind  his  contemporaries  in 
his  contemptuous  treatment  of  "  odious  ballads,"  or 
of  "  these  same  metre  ballad-mongers,"  but  he  has 

*  Parliament  of  Loi'e.  f   Queen  of  Corinth. 

\  Dckkcr's  Honest  IF.,  1 604,  act  i.  sc.  i . 


Ixii  PRESERVERS    OF 

shown  by  the  references  in  King  Lear  and  Hamlet 
his  high  appreciation  of  the  genuine  old  work,  and 
there  is  no  doubt  that  the  creator  of  Autolycus  loved 
"  a  ballad  but  even  too  well." 

There  have  been  two  kinds  of  collectors,  viz. 
those  who  copied  such  fugitive  poetry  as  came  in 
their  way,  and  those  who  bought  up  all  the  printed 
ballads  they  could  obtain. 

Of  the  manuscript  collections  of  old  poetry,  the 
three  most  celebrated  are  the  Maitland  MS.  in  the 
Pepysian  Library,  Cambridge,  the  Bannatyne  MS. 
presented  by  the  Earl  of  Hyndford  to  the  Advo- 
vocates'  Library,  Edinburgh,  and  the  famous  folio 
MS.  which  formerly  belonged  to  Percy,  and  is  now 
in  the  British  Museum.  The  Maitland  MS.,  which 
contains  an  excellent  collection  of  Scotch  poetry, 
was  formed  by  Sir  Richard  Maitland,  of  Lethington, 
Lord  Privy  Seal  and  Judge  in  the  Court  of  Session 
(b.  1496,  d.  1586).  Selections  from  this  MS.  were 
printed  by  Pinkerton  in  1786. 

In  the  year  1568,  when  Scotland  was  visited  by 
the  Plague,  a  certain  George  Bannatyne,  of  whom 
nothing  is  known,  retired  to  his  house  to  escape  in- 
fection, and  employed  his  leisure  in  compiling  his 
most  valuable  collection  of  Scottish  poetry.  This 
MS,  was  lent  out  of  the  Advocates'  Library  to 
Percy,  and  he  was  allowed  to  keep  it  for  a  con- 
siderable time.  Sir  David  Dalrymple  published 
"Some  ancient  Scottish  Poems"  in  1770,  which  were 
taken  from  this  MS. 

The  great  Lord  Burghley  was  one  of  the  first 
to  recognize  the  value  of  ballads  as  an  evidence  of 
the  popular  feeling,  and  he  ordered  all  broadsides 
to  be  brought  to  him  as  they  were  published.  The 
learned  Selden  was  also  a  collector  of  them,  but  the 
Chinese  nation  was  before  these  wise  men,  and  had 
realized  an  idea  that  has  often  been  suggested  in 


THE    BALLADS.  Ixii 


111 


Europe.  One  of  their  sacred  books  is  the  Book  of 
Songs,  in  which  the  manners  of  the  country  are 
illustrated  by  songs  and  odes,  the  most  popular  of 
which  were  brought  to  the  sovereign  for  the  pur- 
pose. 

The  largest  collections  of  printed  ballads  are  now 
in  Magdalene  College,  Cambridge,  in  the  Bodleian 
at  Oxford,  and  in  the  British  Museum.  Some  smaller 
collections  are  in  private  hands.  In  taking  stock  of 
these  collections,  we  are  greatly  helped  by  Mr. 
Chappell's  interesting  preface  to  the  Roxbtirghe 
Ballads.  The  Pepysian  collection  deposited  in 
the  library  of  Magdalene  College,  Cambridge,  con- 
sisting of  1, 800  ballads  in  five  vols.,  is  one  of  the 
oldest  and  most  valuable  of  the  collections.  It  was 
commenced  by  Selden,  who  died  in  1654,  and  con- 
tinued by  Samuel  Pepys  till  near  the  time  of  his 
own  death  in  1703.  Tradition  reports  that  Pepys 
borrowed  Selden's  collection,  and  then  "  forgot"  to 
return  it  to  the  proper  owner.  Besides  these  five 
volumes,  there  are  three  vols,  of  what  Pepys  calls 
penny  merriments.  There  are  112  of  these,  and 
some  are  garlands  that  contain  many  ballads  in  each. 

Cambridge's  rival,  Oxlord,  possesses  three  collec- 
tions, viz.  Anthony  Wood's  279  ballads  and  collec- 
tion of  garlands,  Francis  Douce's  877  in  four  vols., 
and  Richard  Rawlinson's  218. 

Previously  to  the  year  1845,  when  the  Roxburghe 
collection  was  purchased,  there  were  in  the  British 
Museum  Library  about  1,000  ballads,  but  Mr.  Chap- 
pell,  without  counting  the  Roxburghe  Ballads,  gives 
the  number  as  i  292  in  1 864.     They  are  as  follows  : — 

Kaf^ford  Collection 355 

Volume  of  Miscellaneous  Ballads  and  Poems,  17th  century  31 

Volume,  mostly  poliliral,  from  1641  .          .          .          .          .  250 
Volume  in  King's  Library,  principally  relating  to  London, 

from  1659  to  1711     .......  60 


Ixlv  PRESERVERS    OF 

The  Thomason  Collection  of  Tracts .....       304 
Satirical  Ballads  on  the  Popish  Plot,  from  Strawberry  Hill 

ocL-L^    •  •  •  •  •  ■  •  •  •  •  ^  i 

Luttrell  Collection,  vol.  ii.         .         .         .         .         .         -255 

Miscellaneous  .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .         10 


1292 

The  celebrated  Roxburorhe  collection  was  boug-ht 
by  Rodd  at  Benjamin  Hey  wood  Bright's  sale  in 
1845  fo''  t^^  British  Museum,  the  price  being  ^535. 
It  was  originally  formed  by  Robert  Harley,  first 
Earl  of  Oxford,  and  as  John  Bagford  was  one  of  the 
buyers  employed  by  the  Earl,  he  is  the  reputed  col- 
lector of  the  ballads.  At  the  sale  of  the  Harleian 
Library,  this  collection  became  the  property  of 
James  West,  P.R.S.,  and  when  his  books  were  sold 
in  1773,  Major  Thomas  Pearson  bought  it  for,  it  is 
said,  ^20.  This  gentleman,  with  the  assistance  of 
Isaac  Reed,  added  to  the  collection,  and  bound  it  in 
two  volumes  with  printed  title  pages,  indexes,  &c. 
In  1788,  John,  Duke  of  Roxburghe,  bought  it  at 
Major  Pearson's  sale  for  ^36  145-.  6d.,  and  afterwards 
added  largely  to  it,  making  a  third  volume.  At  the 
Duke's  sale  in  1813,  the  three  volumes  were  bought 
for  ^477  15^.,  by  Harding,  who  sold  them  to  Mr. 
Bright  for,  it  is  supposed,  £700.  The  collection 
consists  of  1335  broadsides,  printed  between  1567 
and  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century,  two-thirds  of 
them  being  in  black  letter.  Bright  added  a  fourth 
volume  of  eighty-five  pages,  which  was  bought  for 
the  British  Museum  for  ^25  55. 

Some  early  ballads  are  included  in  the  collection 
of  broadsides  in  the  library  of  the  Society  of  Anti- 
quaries, and  a  collection  of  proclamations  and  ballads 
was  made  by  Mr.  Halliwell  Phillipps,  and  presented 
by  him  to  the  Chetham  Library  at  Manchester. 

The  late  George  Daniel  picked  up  a  valuable 
collection  of  ballads  at  an  old  shop  in  Ipswich,  which 


THE    BALLADS.  Ixv 

is  supposed  to  have  come  from  Helmingham  Hall, 
Suffolk,  where  it  had  lain  unnoticed  or  fo rs^otten  for 
two  centuries  or  more.  It  originally  numbered  175 
to  200  ballads,  but  was  divided  by  Daniel,  who  sold 
one  portion  (consisting  of  eighty-eight  ballads)  to 
Thorpe,  who  disposed  of  it  to  Heber.  At  Heber's 
sale  it  was  bought  by  Mr.  W.  H.  Miller,  of  Britwell, 
and  from  him  it  descended  to  Mr.  S.  Christie  Miller. 
Twenty-five  ballads  known  to  have  belonged  to  the 
same  collection  were  edited  by  Mr.  Payne  Collier  for 
the  Percy  Society  in  1840.  The  portion  that  Daniel 
retained  was  bought  at  the  sale  of  his  library  by  Mr. 
Henry  Huth,  who  has  reprinted  seventy-nine  of  the 
best  ballads.  Other  known  private  collections  are 
five  volumes  belonging  to  Mr.  Frederic  Ouvry,  Pre- 
sident of  the  Society  of  Antiquaries,  which  contain 
Mr.  Payne  Collier's  collection  of  Black-letter  Ballads, 
the  Earl  of  Jersey's  at  Osterley  Park,  and  one  which 
was  formed  by  Mr.  Halliwell  Phillipps,  who  printed 
a  full  catalogue  of  the  ballads  contained  in  it,  and 
then  disposed  of  it  to  the  late  Mr.  William  Euing  of 
Glasgow. 

We  owe  our  gratitude  to  all  these  collectors,  but 
must  also  do  honour  to  those  writers  who  in  advance 
of  their  age  tried  to  lead  their  contemporaries  to  fresher 
springs  than  those  to  which  they  were  accustomed.,^ 
The  first  of  these  was  Addison,  who  commented  on 
the  beauties  of  Chevy  Chase  and  the  Children  in  the 
Wood  in  the  Spectator.      He  wrote  :  "  it  is  impossible 
that  anything  should  be  universally  tasted  and  ap-  , 
proved    by  a   multitude,  though   they  are   only  the  1 
rabble  of  a  nation,  which  hath  not  in  it  some  peculiar 
aptness  to  please  and  gratify  the  mind  oi  man." 

Rowc  was  another  appreciator  of  this  poi)ular 
literature,  and  his  example  and  teaching  may  have 
had  its  influence  in  the  publication  of  the  first  Col- 
lection of  Old  Ballads,    for   the   motto   to   the    first 

e 


Ixvi  PRESERVERS    OF 

volume  is  taken  from  the  prologue  to  Rowe's  Jane 
Shore  (first  acted  in  1 7 1 3)  : — 

"  Let  no  nice  sir  despise  the  hapless  dame 

Because  recording  ballads  chaunt  her  name ; 

Those  venerable  ancient  song  enditers 

Soar'd  many  a  pitch  above  our  modern  writers. 

They  caterwauled  in  no  romantic  ditty, 

Sighing  for  Philis's  or  Cloe's  pity ; 

Justly  they  drew  the  Fair  and  spoke  her  plain, 

And  sung  her  by  her  Christian  name — 'twas  Jane. 

Our  numbers  may  be  more  refined  than  those, 

But  what  we've  gain'd  in  verse,  we've  lost  in  prose  ; 

Their  words  no  shuffling  double  meaning  knew, 

Their  speech  was  homely,  but  their  hearts  were  true." 

Parnell,  Tickell,  and  Prior  belonged  to  the  small 
band  who  had  the  taste  to  appreciate  the  unfashion- 
able old  ballad.  Prior  says  of  himself  in  a  MS. 
essay  quoted  by  Disraeli  in  the  Calaviities  of  Authors: 
"  I  remember  nothingf  further  in  life  than  that  I  made 
verses  :  I  chose  Guy  Earl  of  Warwick  for  my  first 
hero,  and  killed  Colborne  the  giant  before  I  was  big 
enough  for  Westminster  school."  The  few  were, 
however,  unable  to  convert  the  many,  and  Dr.  Wag- 
staffe,  one  of  the  wits  of  the  day,  ridiculed  Addison 
for  his  good  taste,  and  in  a  parody  of  the  famous 
essay  on  Chevy  Chase  he  commented  upon  the 
History  of  Tom  Thumb,  and  pretended  to  point 
out  the  congenial  spirit  of  this  poet  with  Virgil. 

There  is  still  another  class  of  preservers  of  ballads 
to  be  mentioned,  viz.  those  whose  tenacious  memories 
allow  them  to  retain  the  legends  and  songs  they  heard 
in  their  youth,  but  as  Prof.  Aytoun  writes:  "  No  Els- 
pats  of  the  Craigburnfoot  remain  to  repeat  to  grand- 
children that  legendary  lore  which  they  had  acquired 
in  years  long  gone  by  from  the  last  of  the  itinerant 
minstrels."  The  most  celebrated  of  these  retailers 
of  the  old  ballads  was  Mrs.  Brown  of  Falkland,  wife 
of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Brown,  for  from  her  both  Scott  and 


THE   BALLADS.  b 


XVI 1 


Jamieson  obtained  some  of  their  best  pieces.  Her 
taste  for  the  songs  and  tales  of  chivalry  was  derived 
from  an  aunt,  Mrs.  Farquhar,  "  who  was  married  to 
the  proprietor  of  a  small  estate  near  the  sources  of 
the  Dee  in  Braemar,  a  good  old  woman,  who  spent 
the  best  part  of  her  life  among  flocks  and  herds,  [but] 
resided  in  her  latter  years  in  the  town  of  Aberdeen. 
She  was  possest  of  a  most  tenacious  memory,  which 
retained  all  the  songs  she  had  heard  from  nurses 
and  countrywomen  in  that  sequestered  part  of  the 
country."  *  Doubts  have  been  expressed  as  to  the 
good  faith  of  Mrs.  Brown,  but  they  do  not  appear  to 
be  well  grounded.  Another  of  these  ladies  from 
whose  mouths  we  have  learnt  so  much  of  the  ever- 
fading  relics  of  the  people's  literature  was  Mrs.  Arrot. 

The  earliest  printed  collection  of  Scottish  popular 
poetry  known  to  exist  is  a  volume  printed  at  Edin- 
burgh, "  by  Walter  Chepman  and  Androw  Myllar,  in 
the  year  1508,"  which  was  reprinted  in  facsimile 
by  David  Laing  in  1827.  The  next  work  of  in- 
terest in  the  bibliography  of  ballads  is  "  Ane  Com- 
pendious Booke  of  Godly  and  Spirituall  Songs,  col- 
lected out  of  sundrie  partes  of  the  Scripture,  with 
sundrie  of  other  ballates,  chainged  out  of  prophaine 
songs  for  avoiding  of  Sinne  and  Harlotrie,"  printed 
in  1 590  and  162 1,  and  reprinted  by  J.  G.  Dalzell  in 
1 80 1,  and  by  David  Laing  in  1868.  It  contains 
parodies  of  some  of  the  songs  mentioned  in  the  Com- 
plaint of  Scotland,  and  is  supposed  to  be  the  work  of 
three  brothers — James,  John,  and  Robert  Wedder- 
burn,  of  Dundee.  To  the  last  of  the  three  Mr. 
Laing  attributed  the  Complaint,  but  Mr.  Murray,  the 
latest  editor  of  that  book,  is  unable  to  agree  with  him. 

The  first  book  of  "  prophane"  songs  published  in 
Scotland  was  a  musical  collection  entitled  "  Cantus 

*  Scott's  Minstrelsy  of  the  Scottish  Border. 


Ixviii  PRESERVERS    OF 

Songs  and  Fancies  to  several  musicall  parts,  both  apt 
for  voices  and  viols  :  with  a  brief  introduction  to 
musick,  as  it  is  taught  by  Thomas  Davidson  in  the 
Musick  School  of  Aberdeen.  Aberdeen,  printed  by 
John  Forbes."   1662,  1666,  and  1682. 

The  next  work  in  order  of  time  is  "  A  Choise  Col- 
lection of  Comic  and  Serious  Scots  Poems,  both 
ancient  and  modern,  by  several  hands.  Edinburgh, 
printed  by  James  Watson."  In  three  parts,  1706, 
1709,  1 710.  Supposed  to  have  been  compiled  by 
John  Spottiswood,  author  of  Hope  s  Minor  Practicks. 

All  these  works  emanated  from  Scotchmen,  and 
the  only  works  of  the  same  character  that  were  pub- 
lished in  England  were  small  collections  of  songs  and 
ballads,  called  Garlands  and  Drolleries.  These  are 
too  numerous  to  be  noticed  here  ;  but  that  they  were 
highly  popular  may  be  judged  from  the  fact  that  a 
thirteenth  edition  of  The  Golden  Garland  of  Princely 
Delight  is  registered.  The  Garlands  are  chiefly  small 
collections  of  songs  on  similar  subjects.  Thus,  there 
were  Love's  Garlands,  Loyal  Garlands,  Protestant 
Garlands,  &c.  Considerable  pains  seem  to  have  been 
taken  in  order  to  obtain  attractive  titles  for  these  little 
brochures.     Thus,  on  one  we  read : — 

"  The  sweet  and  the  sower,         * 
The  nettle  and  the  flower, 
The  thorne  and  the  rose, 
This  garland  compose." 

Drolleries  were  collections  of  "jovial  poems"  and 
"  merry  songs,"  and  some  of  them  were  confined  to 
the  songs  sung  at  the  theatres. 

One  of  the  first  English  collections  of  any  preten- 
sions was  Dryden's  Miscellany  Poems,  published  in 
1 684- 1 708,  which  was  shortly  after  followed  by  Tom 
D'Urfey's  Wit  and  Mirth,  or  Pills  to  Purge  Melan- 
choly, 1719-20.  But  the  first  attempt  to  bring  to- 
gether a  large  number  of  popular  ballads,  as  distin- 


1: 

4 


THE    BALLADS.  Ixb 


X 


guished  from  songs,  was  made  in  "  A  Collection  of 
Old  Ballads,  corrected  from  the  best  and  most  ancient 
copies  extant,  with  Introductions  historical,  critical, 
or  humorous."  London,  Vols  I.  and  II.  1723.  Vol. 
III.  1725. 

The  object  of  most  of  the  works  referred  to  above 
was  the  publication  of  songs  to  be  sung  ;  the  object  of 
this  one  was  the  presentment  of  ballads  to  be  read. 
It  had  a  large  sale,  and  the  editor  (who  is  said  to  have 
been  Ambrose  Phillips)  expresses  his  satisfaction  in 
the  Preface  to  Vol.  II.:  "  Though  we  printed  a  large 
edition  for  such  a  trifle,  and  in  less  than  two  months 
put  it  to  the  press  again,  yet  could  we  not  get  our 
second  edition  out  before  it  was  really  wanted."  In 
spite,  however,  of  its  satisfactory  reception,  it  does 
not  appear  to  have  taken  any  permanent  position  in 
literature,  although  it  must  have  prepared  the  public 
mind  to  receiv^e  the  Rcliqiics.  This  collection  con- 
tains one  hundred  and  fifty-nine  ballads,  out  of  which 
number  twenty- three  are  also  in  the  Rcliqiics.'^  Many 
of  the  others  are  of  considerable  interest,  but  some 
had  better  have  been  left  unprinted,  and  all  are  of  little 
critical  value. 

In  the  year  after  the  first  two  volumes  of  the  Eng- 
lish collection  were  published,  Allan  Ramsay  issued 

*  The  following  is  a  list  of  these  ballads  :  — 

Vol.  I.  "  Fair  Rosamond  and  King  Henry  II.,"  "  Queen 
Eleanor's  Confession,''  "  St.  George  and  the  Dragon,"  "  The  Dragon 
of  Wantley,'  "  Chevy  Chace,"  "  The  Lamentation  of  Jane  Shore," 
"  Sir  Andrew  Barton's  Death,"  "  Prince  of  England's  Courtship  to 
the  King  of  France's  Daughter,"  "  The  Lady  turn'd  Serving-Man," 
"  The  Children  in  the  Wood,"  "  The  Bride's  Burial,"  "  The  Lady's 
Fall,"  "  Lord  Thomas  and  Fair  Ellinor, "  "  Gilderoy." 

Vol.  II.  "  King  Leir  and  his  Three  Daughters,"  "  King  Arthur 
and  the  Knights  of  the  Round  Table,"  "  King  John  and  the 
Alibot  of  Canterbury,"  "  The  Wanton  Wife  of  Bath,"  "  The 
Spanish  Lady's  Love,"  "  The  Blind  Beggar  of  Bednal  (}reen." 

Vol.  III.  "  The  ]3affled  Knight,"  "  William  and  Margaret,"  "  The 
Gaberlunzie  NLan." 


Ixx     PRESERVERS   OF   THE  BALLADS. 

'  in  Edinburgh  "  The  Evergreen,  being  a  collection  of 
(  Scots  poems  wrote  by  the  ingenious  before  1600," 
the  principal  materials  of  which  were  derived  from 
the  Bannatyne  MS.  This  was  followed  in  the  same 
year  (1724)  by  "The  Tea-Table  Miscellany  :  a  Col- 
lection of  choice  Songs,  Scots  and  English,"  a  work 
which  is  frequently  referred  to  by  Percy  in  the  follow- 
ing pages.  In  neither  of  these  works  was  Ramsay 
very  particular  as  to  the  liberties  he  allowed  himself 
in  altering  his  originals.  I  n  order  to  make  the  volumes 
fit  reading  for  his  audience,  which  he  hoped  would 
consist  of 

"  Ilka  lovely  British  lass, 

Frae  ladies  Charlotte,  Ann,  and  Jean, 

Down  to  ilk  bonnie  singing  lass 

Wha  dances  barefoot  on  the  green," 

Ramsay  pruned  the  songs  of  their  indelicacies,  and 
filled  up  the  gaps  thus  made  in  his  own  way.  The 
Tea-table  Miscellany  contains  upwards  of  twenty  pre- 
sumably old  songs,  upwards  of  twelve  old  songs  much 
altered,  and  about  one  hundred  songs  written  by  the 
editor  himself,  Crawford,  Hamilton,  and  others. 

In  1725,  WiUiam  Thomson,  a  teacher  of  music  in 
London,  brought  out  a  collection  of  Scottish  songs, 
which  he  had  chiefly  taken  from  the  Tea-table  Mis- 
cellany without  acknowledgment.  He  called  his  book 
Orpheus  Caledonius. 

For  some  years  before  Percy's  collection  appeared, 
the  Foulises,  Glasgow's  celebrated  printers,  issued 
from  their  press,  under  the  superintendence  of  Lord 
Hailes,  various  Scottish  ballads,  luxuriously  printed 
with  large  type,  in  a  small  quarto  size. 

These  were  the  sio-ns  that  miMit  have  shown  the 
far-sighted  man  that  a  revival  was  at  hand.  At  last 
the  time  came  when,  tired  out  with  the  dreary  and 
leaden  regularity  of  the  verse-writers  of  the  day,  the 
people  were  ready  to  receive  poetry  fresh  from  na- 


LIFE    OF   PERCY.  1 


XXI 


ture.  The  man  who  arose  to  supply  the  want  (which 
was  none  the  less  a  want  that  it  was  an  unrecoi^nized 
one)  was  Thomas  Percy,  a  clergyman  living  in  a  re- 
tired part  of  the  country,  but  occasionally  seen  among 
the  literati  of  the  capital. 


Life  of  Percy. 

Thomas  Percy  was  born  on  April  13th,  1729,  at 
Bridgnorth  in  Shropshire,  in  a  street  called  the 
Cartway.  His  father  and  grandfather  were  grocers, 
spelt  their  name  Piercy,  and  knew  nothing  of  any 
connection  with  the  noble  house  of  Northumber- 
land.* His  early  education  was  received  at  the 
grammar  school  of  Bridgnorth,  and  in  r  746,  being  then 
in  his  eighteenth  year,  and  having  obtained  an  ex- 
hibition, he  matriculated  as  a  commoner  at  Christ 
Church,  Oxford. 

He  took  the  degree  of  B.A.  on  May  2nd,  1750, 
that  of  M.A.  on  July  5th,  1753,  and  shortly  after 
was  presented  by  his  college  to  the  living  of  Easton 
Maudit,  in  the  county  of  Northampton.  In  this 
poor  cure  he  remained  for  twenty-five  years,  and  in 

*  Percy  communicated  to  Dr.  Nash,  for  the  History  of  Worces- 
tershire (vol.  ii.  p.  318),  a  pedigree  in  which  he  attempted  to 
identify  his  family  with  that  of  the  descendants  of  Ralph,  third 
Karl  of  Northumberland.  Nash  subjoined  a  note  to  the  eftect 
that  he  had  examined  the  proofs  of  all  the  particulars  above 
mentioned,  and  Boswell,  in  his  Life  of  Johnson,  expressed  the 
opinion  that,  "  both  as  a  lawyer  accustomed  to  the  consideration 
of  evidence,  and  as  a  genealogist  versed  in  the  study  of  pedigrees,' 
he  was  fully  satisfied.  Mr.  Furnivall  is  rather  unjust  to  Percy 
when  he  suggests  that  the  pedigree  was  treated  like  the  Ijallads, 
and  the  gaps  filled  \x\),  for  the  cases  are  not  cjuite  analogous.  Tlie 
Ijcdigree  may  not  Ijc  of  greater  autlienti(  ily  than  many  other 
doubtful  ones,  but  at  all  events  his  patrons  the  Duke  and  Duchess 
of  Northumberland  acknowledged  the  connection  between  them 
when  he  was  in  some  way  distinguished. 


Ixxii  LIFE    OF   PERCY. 

the  little  vicarage  his  six  children  (Anne,  Barbara, 
Henry,  Elizabeth,  Charlotte,  and  Hester),  were  all 
born.  Percy's  income  was  increased  in  1756  by  the 
gift  of  the  rectory  of  Wilby,  an  adjacent  parish,  in 
the  patronage  of  the  Earl  of  Sussex,  and  on  April 
24th,  1759,  he  married  Anne,  daughter  of  Barton 
Gutteridge,*  who  was  his  beloved  companion  for 
forty-seven  years.  It  was  to  this  lady,  before  his 
marriage  to  her,  that  Percy  wrote  his  famous  song, 
"  O  Nancy,  wilt  thou  go  with  me  ?"  Miss  Matilda 
Lastitia  Hawkins  stated  in  her  Memoirs,  that  these 
charming  verses  were  intended  by  Percy  as  a  wel- 
come to  his  wife  on  her  release  from  a  twelve- 
month's confinement  in  the  royal  nursery,  and  Mr. 
Pickford  follows  her  authority  in  his  Life  of  Percy, 
but  this  is  an  entire  mistake,  for  the  song  was  printed 
as  early  as  the  year  1 758  in  the  sixth  volume  of  Dods- 
ley's  Collection  of  Poems.  Anyone  who  reads  the 
following  verses  will  see,  that  though  appropriate  as 
a  lover's  proposal,  they  are  very  inappropriate  as  a 
husband's  welcome  home  to  his  wife. 

"  O  Nancy,  wilt  thou  go  with  me, 

Nor  sigh  to  leave  the  flaunting  town  ? 
Can  silent  glens  have  charms  for  thee, 

The  lowly  cot  and  russet  gown  ? 
No  longer  drest  in  silken  sheen, 

No  longer  deck'd  with  jewels  rare, 
Say,  canst  thou  quit  each  courtly  scene, 

Where  thou  wert  fairest  of  the  fair  ? 

"  O  Nancy,  when  thou'rt  far  away, 

Wilt  thou  not  cast  a  wish  behind  ? 
Say,  canst  thou  face  the  parching  ray, 

Nor  shrink  before  the  wintry  wind  ? 
O,  can  that  soft  and  gentle  mien 

Extremes  of  hardship  learn  to  bear, 
Nor,  sad,  regret  each  courtly  scene, 

Where  thou  wert  fairest  of  the  fair  ? 


*  On  Percy's  tomb  his  wife's  name  is  spelt  Goodriche. 


LIFE    OF   PERCY.  kxiii 

"  O  Nancy,  canst  thou  love  so  true, 

Through  perils  keen  with  me  to  go? 
Or,  when  thy  swain  mishap  shall  rue. 

To  share  with  him  the  pang  of  woe  ? 
Say,  should  disease  or  pain  befall, 

Wilt  thou  assume  the  nurse's  care  ? 
Nor  wistful,  those  gay  scenes  recall. 

Where  thou  wert  fairest  of  the  fair  ? 

"  And  when  at  last  thy  love  shall  die, 

Wilt  thou  receive  his  parting  breath  ? 
Wilt  thou  repress  each  struggling  sigh. 

And  cheer  with  smiles  the  bed  of  death  ? 
And  wilt  thou  o'er  his  breathless  clay 

Strew  flowers,  and  drop  the  tender  tear? 
Nor  then  regret  those  scenes  so  gay, 

Where  thou  wert  fairest  of  the  fair?" 

By  the  alteration  of  a  few  words,  such  as  gang  for 
go,  toiin  for  tozun,  &c.,  "Oh  Nanny,  wilt  thou  gang- 
with  me  ?"  was  transposed  into  a  Scotch  song,  and 
printed  as  such  in  Johnson's  Musical  Mtisctc7)i. 
Burns  remarked  on  this  insertion  :  "  It  is  too  bare- 
faced to  take  Dr.  Percy's  charming  song,  and  by 
the  means  of  transposing  a  few  English  words  into 
Scots,  to  offer  it  to  pass  for  a  Scots  song.  I  was 
not  acquainted  with  the  editor  until  the  first  volume 
was  nearly  finished,  else  had  I  known  in  time  I 
would  have  prevented  such  an  impudent  absurdity." 
Stenhouse,  suggested*  that  Percy  may  have  had 
in  view  the  song  called  The  yoimg  Laird  and  Edin- 
bu7'gh  Kate,  printed  in  Ramsay's  Tea-Tablc  Mis- 
cdiajiy,  the  second  stanza  of  which  is  somewhat 
similar — 

"  O  Katy,  mltu  gang  wi'  me, 
And  leave  the  dinsome  town  awhile? 
The  blossom's  sprouting  from  the  tree, 
And  a'  the  simmer's  gawn  to  smile." 


*  lllustratiotu  of  the  Lyric  Poetry  and  Music  of  Scot  hind,  1853, 
p.  29. 


Ixxiv  LIFE    OF   PERCY. 

Mr.  Charles  Kirkpatrick  Sharpe,  however,  hinted  * 
that  "  perhaps  both  the  author  of  The  Young  Laird 
and  Edinburgh  Katy,  and  the  Bishop,  took  the  idea 
of  their  ballads  from  a  song  in  Lee's  beautiful 
tragedy  of  Theodosius,  or  the  Foixe  of  Love'' 

Dr.  Rimbault  communicated  this  poem  to  the 
editors  of  the  folio  MS.  from  a  MS.  dated  1682,  or 
fifteen  years  earlier  than  Lee's  version.  It  is  called 
The  Royal  Nun,  and  the  first  stanza  is  as  fol- 
lows : — 

"  Canst  thou,  Marina,  leave  the  world, 

The  world  that  is  devotion's  bane, 
Where  crowns  are  toss'd  and  sceptres  hurl'd, 

Where  lust  and  proud  ambition  reign  ? 
Canst  thou  thy  costly  robes  forbear, 

To  live  with  us  in  poor  attire  ; 
Canst  thou  from  courts  to  cells  repair 
To  sing  at  midnight  in  the  quire  ?  "  f 

The  likeness  in  this  stanza  to  Percy's  song  is  not 
very  apparent,  and  the  subject  is  very  different. 
The  other  three  stanzas  have  nothing  in  common 
with  O  Nancy.  Even  could  it  be  proved  that 
Percy  had  borrowed  the  opening  idea  from  these 
two  poems,  it  does  not  derogate  from  his  originality, 
for  the  charm  of  the  song  is  all  his  own. 

A  portrait  of  Mrs,  Percy  holding  in  her  hand  a 
scroll  inscribed  Oh  Nancy,  is  preserved  at  Ecton 
House,  near  Northampton,  the  seat  of  Mr.  Samuel 
Isted,  husband  of  Percy's  daughter  Barbara. 

The  song  was  set  to  music  by  Thomas  Carter, 
and  sung  by  Vernon  at  Vauxhall  in  1773. 

In  1 76 1  Percy  commenced  his  literary  career  by 
the  publication  of  a  Chinese  novel,  Hau  Kiau  Chooan, 
in  four  volumes,  which  he  translated  from  the  Portu- 
guese, and  in  the  same  year  he  undertook  to  edit 

*  Stenhouse's  Illustrations,  p.  112. 

t  Bishop  Percy's  Folio  MS.  vol.  i.  p.  xli.  (note). 


LIFE    OF   PERCY,  1 


XXV 


the  works  of  the  Duke  of  Buckingham.  In  1762 
he  pubHshed  "  Miscellaneous  Pieces  relating  to  the 
Chinese,"  and  in  1763  commenced  a  new  edition  of 
Surrey's  Poems,  with  a  selection  of  early  specimens 
of  blank  verse.  The  "  Buckingham"  and  "  Surrey" 
were  printed,  but  never  published,  and  the  stock  of 
the  latter  was  destroyed  by  fire  in  1808.  In  1763 
were  published  "  Five  Pieces  of  Runic  Poetry — 
translated  from  the  Icelandic  Lancruaee,"  and  in 
the  following  year  appeared  "A  New  Translation 
of  the  Song  of  Solomon  from  the  Hebrew,  with 
Commentary  and  Notes,"  and  also  "  A  Key  to  the 
New  Testament."  Dr.  Johnson  paid  a  long-pro- 
mised visit  to  the  Vicarage  of  Easton  Maudit  in  the 
summer  of  i  764,  where  he  stayed  for  some  months, 
and  the  little  terrace  in  the  fjarden  is  still  called  after 
him.  "  Dr.  Johnson's  Walk."  At  this  time  Percy 
must  have  been  full  of  anxiety  about  his  Rcliques, 
which  were  shortly  to  be  published,  and  in  the  pre- 
paration of  which  he  had  so  long  been  engaged. 
The  poet  Shenstone  was  the  first  to  suggest  the 
subject  of  this  book,  as  he  himself  states  in  a  letter 
to  a  friend,  dated  March  i,  1761.  "  You  have  heard 
me  speak  of  Mr.  Percy  ;  he  was  in  treaty  with 
Mr.  James  Dodsley  for  the  publication  of  our  best 
old  ballads  in  three  volumes.  He  has  a  larofe  folio 
MS.  of  ballads,  which  he  showed  me,  and  which, 
with  his  own  natural  and  acquired  talents,  would 
qualify  him  for  the  purpose  as  well  as  any  man 
in  England.  I  proposed  the  scheme  to  him  my- 
self, wishing  to  see  an  elegant  edition  and  good 
collection  of  this  kind.  I  was  also  to  have  assisted 
him  in  selecting  and  rejecting,  and  fixing  upon  the 
best  readings  ;  but  my  illness  broke  off  tlu;  corre- 
spondence in  the  beginning  of  winter." 

In    I'ebruary,   1765,  aj^jjeared  the  first  edition  of 
the  Rcliqiics,  which  gave  Percy  a  name,  and  oJjlained 


Ixxvi  LIFE    OF   PERCY. 

for  him  the  patronage  of  the  great.  He  became 
Chaplain  and  Secretary  to  the  Duke  of  Northumber- 
land, with  whose  family  he  kept  up  intimate  relations 
throughout  his  life.  The  Northumberland  House- 
hold Book,  which  he  compiled  in  accordance  with  the 
wishes  of  his  patron,  was  privately  printed  in  the 
year  1768.*  In  1769  he  was  appointed  Chaplain  to 
George  III.,  and  in  the  following  year  appeared  his 
translation  of  Mallet's  Northern  Antiquities.  Each 
of  these  three  works  was  the  first  of  its  class,  and 
created  a  taste  which  produced  a  literature  of  the 
same  character.  The  Hotisehold  Book  gave  rise  to 
a  large  number  of  publications  which  have  put  us  in 
possession  of  numerous  facts  relating  to  the  domestic 
expenses  and  habits  of  the  royal  and  noble  families 
of  old  England.  The  mythology  of  the  Eddas  was 
first  made  known  to  English  readers  by  Percy,  and 
in  his  Preface  to  Mallet's  work  he  clearly  pointed 
out  the  essential  difference  between  the  Celtic  and 
Teutonic  races,  which  had  previously  been  greatly 
overlooked. 

The  remuneration  which  Percy  received  for  his 
labours  was  not  large.  Fifty  pounds  was  the  pay 
for  the  Chinese  novel,  and  one  hundred  guineas  for 
the  first  edition  of  the  Reliques.  The  agreements 
he  made  with  the  Tonsons  were  fifty  guineas  for 
Buckingham's  Works  and  twenty  guineas  for  Surrey's 
Poems.  He  also  agreed  to  edit  the  Spectator  and 
Guardian,  with  notes,  for  one  hundred  guineas,  but 
was  obliged  to  abandon  his  intention  on  account  of 
the  engrossing  character  of  his  appointments  in  the 
Northumberland  family. 

About  this  time  Mrs.  Percy  was  appointed  nurse 


*  The  book  was  reprinted  entire  in  the  fourth  volume  of  the 
Antiquarian  Repertory,  1809  3  and  a  second  edition  was  published 
by  Pickering  in  1827. 


LIFE    OF   PERCY.  Ixxvii 

to  Prince  Edward,  the  infant  son  of  George  III., 
afterwards  Duke  of  Kent,  and  father  of  her  present 
Majesty,  who  was  born  in  1767. 

In  1770  Percy  took  his  degree  of  D.D.  at  Cam- 
bridge, having  incorporated  himself  at  Emmanuel 
College,  the  master  of  which  was  his  friend.  Dr.  Far- 
mer, to  be  remembered  as  the  Shakspere  commen- 
tator. Later  on  in  the  year  he  lost  his  eldest  daughter, 
and  in  January,  1771,  yet  another  child  was  buried 
in  the  village  church.  In  1771  he  printed  the  Her- 
7nit  of  ll\irkzi'or//i,  which  exhibited  his  continued 
interest  in  the  subject  of  the  Rc/iqucs,  and  we  find 
him  for  many  years  after  this  date  continually  writing 
to  his  literary  correspondents  for  information  relating 
to  old  ballads. 

In  1778  Percy  obtained  the  Deanery  of  Carlisle, 
which  four  years  afterwards  he  resigned  on  being 
appointed  to  the  bishopric  of  Dromore,  worth  ^2,000 
a  year.  He  did  not  resign  his  vicarage  and  rectory 
until  the  same  time,  and  he  was  succeeded  in  the  first 
by  Robert  Nares,  the  compiler  of  the  well-known  glos- 
sary. It  was  in  1778  that  the  memorable  quarrel  be- 
tween Percy  and  Johnson  occurred  which  is  graphi- 
cally described  by  Boswell.  The  cause  of  the  heat 
was  the  different  views  held  by  the  two  disputants  as  to 
the  merits  of  the  traveller  Pennant.  When  the  recon- 
ciliation was  brought  about  Johnson's  contribution 
to  the  peace  was,  "  My  dear  sir,  I  am  willing  you 
shall  hanor  Pennant." 

In  this  same  year  Percy  was  writing  about  his 
son  Henry,  then  a  tall  youth  of  fifteen,  who  he 
hoped  in  a  few  years  would  be  able  to  edit  the 
Rcliqiics  for  him,  but  in  April,  1783,  soon  after  he 
had  settled  at  Dromore,  a  great  sorrow  fell  uj)on 
him,  and  this  only  and  much-loved  son  died  at  the 
early  age  of  twenty.  In  1780  a  large  portion  ol 
Northumberland    1  louse,   Strand,  was  consumed  by 


Ixxviii  LIFE    OF   PERCY. 

fire,  when  Percy's  apartments  were  burnt.  The  chief 
part  of  his  library,  was,  however,  saved.  Four  very 
interesting  letters  of  the  bishop's,  written  to  George 
Steevens  in  1796  and  1797,  are  printed  in  the 
AthencBuni  for  [848  (pp.  437  and  604).  The  first 
relates  to  his  edition  of  Goldsmith's  works,  which 
was  published  in  1801  in  four  volumes  octavo.  His 
object  in  undertaking  the  labour  was  to  benefit  two 
surviving  relations  of  Goldsmith,  and  he  complains 
to  Steevens  that  the  publishers  had  thwarted  him  in 
his  purpose.  The  second  letter  is  on  the  same 
subject,  and  the  third  and  fourth  relate  to  his  work 
on  blank  verse  before  Milton,  attached  to  Surrey's 
Poems.  In  1798  the  Irish  Rebellion  broke  out,  and 
Percy  sent  a  large  quantity  of  correspondence  and 
valuable  books  to  his  daughter,  Mrs.  Isted,  for  safe 
preservation  at  Ecton  House.  In  1806  his  long 
and  happy  union  with  Mrs.  Percy  was  abruptly 
brought  to  a  close,  and  to  add  to  his  afflictions  he 
became  totally  blind.  He  bore  his  trials  with  resig- 
nation, and  ere  five  more  years  had  passed  by,  he 
himself  was  borne  to  the  tomb.  On  the  30th  of 
September,  181 1,  he  died  in  the  eighty-third  year  of 
his  age,  having  outlived  nearlyall  his  contemporaries.* 
That  his  attachment  to  "  Nancy"  was  fervent  as 
well  as  permanent,  is  shown  by  many  circumstances. 
One  of  these  is  a  little  poem  printed  for  the  first 
time  in  the  edition  of  the  folio  MS.f 

"  On  leaving  on   a  Tempestuous  Night, 

March  22,  1788,  by  Dr.  Percy. 

"  Deep  howls  the  storm  with  chilling  blast, 

Fast  falls  the  snow  and  rain, 
Down  rush  the  floods  with  headlong  haste, 

And  deluge  all  the  plain. 


*  In  1 8 1  o  he  was  the  only  survivor  of  the  original  members  of 
the  Literary  Club,  founded  by  Johnson  and  Reynolds  in  1764. 
t  Percy  Folio  MS.,  vol.  i.  p.  Iv. 


LIFE    OF   PERCY.  Ixxix 

"  Yet  all  in  vain  the  tempest  roars, 

And  whirls  tlie  drifted  snow  ; 
In  vain  the  torrents  scorn  the  shore, 

To  Delia  I  must  go. 

"  In  vain  the  shades  of  evening  fall, 

And  horrid  dangers  threat, 
What  can  the  lover's  heart  appal, 

Or  check  his  eager  feet  ? 

"  The  darksome  vale  he  fearless  tries, 

And  winds  its  trackless  wood  ; 
High  o'er  the  cliff's  dread  summit  flies, 

And  rushes  through  the  flood. 

"  Love  bids  atchieve  the  hardy  task. 

And  act  the  wondrous  part ; 
He  'wings  the  feet  with  eagle's  speed, 

And  lends  the  lion-heart. 

"  Then  led  by  thee,  all-powerful  boy, 

I'll  dare  the  hideous  night ; 
Thy  dart  shall  guard  me  from  annoy. 

Thy  torch  my  footsteps  light. 

"  The  cheerful  blaze — the  social  hour — 

The  friend — all  plead  in  vain  ; 
Love  calls — I  brave  each  adverse  power 

Of  peril  and  of  pain." 

Percy  had  naturally  a  hot  temper,  but  this  cooled 
down  with  time,  and  the  trials  of  his  later  life  were 
accepted  with  Christian  meekness.  One  of  his  re- 
lations, who  as  a  boy  could  just  recollect  him,  told 
Mr.  Pickford  "  that  it  was  quite  a  pleasure  to  see 
even  then  his  gentleness,  amiability,  and  fondness 
for  children.  Every  day  used  to  witness  his  strolling 
down  to  a  pond  in  the  palace  garden,  in  order  to 
feed  his  swans,  who  were  accustomed  to  come  at  the 
well-known  sound  of  the  old  man's  voice."  He  was 
a  pleasing  companion  and  a  steady  friend.  His 
duties,  both  in  the  retired  country  village  and  in  the 
more  elevated  positions  of  dean  and  bishop,  were  all 
performed  with  a  wisdom   and  ardour  that  gained 


Ixxx  LIFE    OF   PERCY. 

him  the  confidence  of  all  those  with  whom  he  was 
brought  in  contact.  The  praise  given  to  him  in  the 
inscription  on  the  tablet  to  his  memory  in  Dromore 
Cathedral  does  not  appear  to  have  gone  beyond  the 
truth.  It  is  there  stated  that  he  resided  constantly 
in  his  diocese,  and  discharged  "the  duties  of  his 
sacred  office  with  vigilance  and  zeal,  instructing  the 
ignorant,  relieving  the  necessitous,  and  comforting 
the  distressed  with  pastoral  affection."  He  was  "re- 
vered for  his  piety  and  learning,  and  beloved  for  his 
universal  benevolence,  by  all  ranks  and  religious 
denominations." 

There  are  three  portraits  of  Percy.  The  first  and 
best  known  was  painted  by  Reynolds  in  May,  1773. 
It  represents  him  habited  in  a  black  gown  and  bands, 
with  a  loose  black  cap  on  his  head,  and  the  folio  MS. 
in  his  hand.  It  is  not  known  whether  the  original  is 
still  in  existence,  but  engravings  from  it  are  common. 
The  next  was  painted  by  Abbot  in  1797,  and  hangs 
at  Ecton  Hall.  Percy  is  there  represented  as  a 
fuller-faced  man,  in  his  episcopal  dress,  and  wearing 
a  wig.  We  have  Steevens^s  authority  for  believing 
this  to  be  an  excellent  likeness.  An  engraving  from 
it  is  prefixed  to  the  "  Percy  Correspondence,"  in 
Nichols's  Ilhistrations  of  Literature,  and  one  also 
ornaments  the  present  volume.  In  the  third  volume 
of  Dibdin's  Bibliographical  Decameron  is  a  beautiful 
engraving  from  a  water-colour  drawing,  which  repre- 
sents the  bishop  in  his  garden  at  Dromore,  when 
totally  blind,  feeding  his  swans.* 

*  The  chief  particulars  of  the  above  sketch  of  Percy's  life  are 
taken  from  the  interesting  life  by  the  Rev.  J.  Pickford  in  Hales 
and  Furnivall's  edition  of  the  Folio  MS.,  vol.  i.  p.  xxvii. 


THE    FOLIO    MS.  Ixxxi 


The  Folio  MS.  and  the  "  Reliques." 

What  were  the  sources  from  which  Percy  obtained 
the  chief  contents  of  his  celebrated  work  ?  They 
were  : — i.  The  foHo  MS.  ;  2.  Certain  other  MS.  col- 
lections, the  use  of  which  he  obtained ;  3.  The 
Scotch  ballads  sent  to  him  by  Sir  David  Dalrymple 
{better  known  by  his  title  of  Lord  Hailes,  which  he 
assumed  on  being  appointed  one  of  the  Judges  of  the 
Court  of  Session  in  Edinburgh) ;  4.  The  ordinary 
printed  broadsides  ;  5.  The  poejns  he  extracted  from 
the  old  printed  collections  of  fugitive  poetry — The 
Paradise  of  Dainty  Devices,  Enghnid's  Helicon,  &c. 

In  considering  the  above  sources,  it  will  be  neces- 
sary to  give  some  little  space  to  the  discussion  of  the 
connection  between  the  folio  MS.  and  the  Reliques, 
as  it  is  not  generally  understood  by  the  ordinary 
readers  of  the  latter. 

The  folio  MS.  came  into  Percy's  hands  early  in  his 
life,  and  the  interest  of  its  contents  first  caused  him 
to  think  of  forming  his  own  collection.  One  of  the 
notes  on  the  covers  of  the  MS.  is  as  follows  : — 

"  When  I  first  got  possession  of  this  MS.  I  was 
very  young,  and  being  no  degree  an  antiquary,  I  had 
not  then  learnt  to  reverence  it ;  which  must  be  my 
excuse  for  the  scribble  which  I  then  spread  over  some 
parts  of  its  margin,  and,  in  one  or  two  instances,  for 
even  taking  out  the  leaves  to  save  the  trouble  of 
transcribing.     I  have  since  been  more  careful.   T.  P." 

He  showed  it  to  his  friends,  and  immediately  after 
the  publication  of  the  Reliques  he  deposited  it  at  the 
house  of  his  publishers,  the  Dodsleys,  of  Pall  Mall. 
In  spite  of  all  this  publicity,  Ritson  actually  denied 
the  very  existence  of  the  MS.  Another  memorandum 
on  the  cover  of  the  folio  was  written  on  Nov.  7,  1 769. 
It  is  as  follows  : — 

/ 


Ixxxii        THE    FOLIO    MS.    AND 

"  This  very  curious  old  manuscript,  in  its  present 
mutilated  state,  but  unbound  and  sadly  torn,  &c.,  I 
rescued  from  destruction,  and  begged  at  the  hands  of 
my  worthy  friend  Humphrey  Pitt,  Esq.,  then  living 
at  Shiffnal,  in  Shropshire,  afterwards  of  Priorslee,  near 
that  town  ;  who  died  very  lately  at  Bath  (viz.,  in  sum- 
^mer  1 769).  I  saw  it  lying  dirty  on  the  floor,  under  a 
Bureau  in  y^  Parlour  :  being  used  by  the  maids  to 
light  the  fire.  It  was  afterwards  sent,  most  unfortu- 
nately, to  an  ignorant  Bookbinder,  who  pared  the 
margin,  when  I  put  it  into  Boards  in  order  to  lend  it 
to  Dr.  Johnson.  Mr.  Pitt  has  since  told  me  that  he 
believes  the  transcripts  into  this  volume,  &c.,  were 
made  by  that  Blount  who  was  author  of  Jocular 
Temtres,  &c.,  who  he  thought  was  of  Lancashire  or 
Cheshire,  and  had  a  remarkable  fondness  for  these 
old  things.  He  believed  him  to  be  the  same  person 
with  that  Mr.  Thomas  Blount  who  published  the 
curious  account  of  King  Charles  the  2^^  escape  in- 
titled  Boscodel,8ic.,  Lond.  1660,  1 2mo,  which  has  been 
so  often  reprinted.  As  also  the  Law  Dictionary, 
1 67 1,  folio,  and  many  other  books  which  maybe  seen 
in  Wood's  A  thence,  ii.  ']'^,  &c.  A  Descendant  or 
Relation  of  that  Mr.  Blount  was  an  apothecary  at 
Shiffnal,  whom  I  remember  myself  (named  also 
Blount).  He  (if  I  mistake  not)  sold  the  Library  of 
the  said  predecessor  Thos.  Blount  to  the  above- 
mentioned  Mr.  Humph^  Pitt :  who  bought  it  for  the 
use  of  his  nephew,  my  ever-valued  friend  Rob*  Binnel. 
Mr.  Binnel  accordingly  had  all  the  printed  books,  but 
this  MS.  which  was  amone  them  was  nesflected  and 
left  behind  at  Mr.  Pitt's  house,  where  it  lay  for  many 
years.     T.  Percy." 

Mr.  Furnivall  believes  that  the  copier  of  the  MS. 
must  have  been  a  man  greatly  inferior  to  Thomas 
Blount,  who  was  a  barrister  of  the  Middle  Temple, 
of  considerable  learning. 


THE    ^'RELIQUESr  Ixxxiii 

Percy  afterwards  kept  the  volume  very  much  to 
himself,  and  Ritson  affirmed  that  "  the  late  Mr. 
Tyrwhitt,  an  excellent  judge  and  diligent  peruser  of 
old  compositions,  and  an  intimate  friend  of  the 
owner,  never  saw  it."""  Although  Jamieson  was 
obliged  by  receiving  a  copy  of  three  of  the  pieces  in 
the  MS.,  he  was  not  allowed  a  sight  of  the  volume, 
and  no  one  else  was  permitted  to  make  any  use  of 
it.  This  spirit  of  secrecy  was  kept  up  by  the  bishop's 
descendants,  who  refused  all  who  applied  to  see 
it.  Sir  Frederic  Madden  alone  was  allowed  to 
print  some  pieces  in  his  Syr  Gazuaync  for  the  Banna- 
tyne  Club,  1839.  The  public  obtained  a  glimpse  of 
its  contents  through  Dr.  Dibdin,  who  copied  from 
Percy's  list  the  first  seventy-two  entries,  and  would 
have  finished  the  whole,  had  he  not  been  stopped 
by  his  entertainers  (Mr.  and  Mrs.  Samuel  Isted,  of 
Ecton  Hall),  when  they  found  out  what  he  was 
about.  He  gave  in  his  Bibliographical  Decameron 
a  description  of  the  MS.  which  he  thus  handled  in 
the  winter  of  18 15.  Mr.  Furnivall  writes  as  follows 
of  his  several  attempts  to  get  the  MS.  printed,  and 
of  his  success  at  last :  "  The  cause  of  the  printing 
of  Percy's  MS.,  of  the  publication  of  the  book,  was 
the  insistence  time  after  time  by  Professor  Child, 
that  it  was  the  duty  of  English  antiquarian  men  of 
letters  to  print  this  foundation  document  of  English 
balladry,  the  basis  of  that  structure  which  Percy 
raised,  so  fair  to  the  eyes  of  all  English-speaking 
men  throughout  the  world.  Above  a  hundred  years 
had  gone  since  first  the  Reliques  met  men's  view, 
a  Percy  Society  had  been  born  and  died,  but  still  the 
Percy  manuscript  lay  hid  in  Ecton  Hall,  and  no  one 
was  allowed  to  know  how  the  owner  who  had  made 
his  fame  by  it  had  dealt  with  it,  whether  his  treatment 


*  Anciejit  So  figs,  1 790,  p.  xix. 


Ixxxiv       THE    FOLIO    MS.    AND 

was  foul  or  fair.  No  list  even  of  its  contents  could 
be  obtained.  Dibdin  and  Madden,  and  many  a 
man  less  known  had  tried  their  hands,  but  still  the 
MS.  was  kept  back,  and  this  generation  had  made 
up  its  mind  that  it  was  not  to  see  the  desired  original 
in  type.  ...  I  tried  to  get  access  to  the  MS.  some 
half-a-dozen  years  ago.  Repulsed,  I  tried  again 
when  starting  the  Early  English  Text  Society. 
Repulsed  again,  I  tried  again  at  a  later  date,  but 
with  the  like  result.  Not  rebuffed  by  this,  Professor 
Child  added  his  offer  of  ^50  to  mine  of  ^100, 
through  Mr.  Thurstan  Holland,  a  friend  of  his  own 
and  of  the  owners  of  the  MS.,  and  this  last  attempt 
succeeded."  The  less  said  the  better  about  the  conduct 
of  these  owners  who  were  only  to  be  tempted  to  confer 
a  public  benefit  by  the  increased  offers  of  two  private 
gentlemen,  but  there  cannot  be  two  opinions  about 
the  spirited  conduct  of  Mr.  Furnivall  and  Professor 
Child.  The  three  volumes*  that  the  printed  edition 
of  the  MS.  occupy,  form  a  handsome  monument  of 
well-directed  labour.  The  text  is  printed  with  the 
most  careful  accuracy  under  the  superintendence  of 
Mr.  Furnivall,  and  the  elaborate  prefaces  which 
exhibit  that  union  of  judgment  and  taste  for  which 
Mr.  Hales  is  so  well  known,  leave  nothing  to  be 
desired. 

"  The  manuscript  itself  is  a  'scrubby,  shabby  paper' 
book,  about  fifteen  and  a  half  inches  long  by  five  and 
a  half  wide,  and  about  two  inches  thick,  which  has 
lost  some  of  its  pages  both  at  the  beginning  and 
end.  .  .  .  The  handwriting  was  put  by  Sir  F.  Mad- 
den at  after  1650  a.d.  ;  by  two  authorities  at  the 
Record   Office  whom   I  consulted,  in   the  reign  of 


*  Bishop  Percy  Folio  Manuscript :  Ballads  and  Romances.  Edited 
by  John  W.  Hales,  M.A.,  and  Frederick  J.  Furnivall,  M.A.,  Lon- 
don (Triibner  and  Co.),  1867-68,  3  vols. 


THE    ''RELIQUESr  Ixxxv 

James  I.  rather  than  that  of  Charles  I.,  but  as  the 
volume  contains,  among  other  late  pieces,  one  on  the 
siege  of  Newark  in  Charles  I.'s  time  (ii.  33),  another 
on  the  taking  of  Banbury  in  1642  (ii.  39),  and  a 
third.  The  King  inioycs  his  rights  againe,  which  con- 
tains a  passage*  that  (as  Mr.  Chappell  observes  in 
Pop.  Mus.  ii.  438,  note  2)  fixes  the  date  of  the  song 
to  the  year  1643,  we  must  make  the  date  about 
1650,  though  rather  before  than  after,  so  far  as  I 
can  judge.  I  should  keep  it  in  Charles  I.'s  reign, 
and  he  died  Jan.  30,  1649,  but  within  a  quarter  of  a 
century  one  can  hardly  determine.  .  .  .  The  dialect 
of  the  copier  of  the  MS.  seems  to  have  been  Lan- 
cashire, as  is  shown  by  the  frequent  use  of  the  final 
st,  thoust  for  tJioii  shall,  1st  for  /  ivill,  yousl  for  yotc 
will,  unbctho2ight  for  umbcthought,  and  the  occur- 
rence of  the  northern  terms,  like  sirang,  gauge,  &c. 
&c.  Moreover,  the  strong  local  feeling  shown  by 
the  copier  in  favour  of  Lancashire  and  Cheshire, 
and  the  Stanleys,  in  his  choice  of  Flodden  Fcilde, 
Bosworth  Feilde,  Earlcs  of  Chester,  Ladye  Bessiye, 
confirms  the  probability  that  he  was  from  one  of  the 
counties  named.  That  much,  if  not  all,  of  the  MS. 
was  written  from  dictation  and  hurriedly  is  almost 
certain,  from  the  continual  miswriting  of  they  for 
the,  rougJU  for  ivrought,  knight  for  night  (once),  me 
fancy  for  my  {^ncy,  Jtistine  {or  justing."  '\ 

A  very  erroneous  impression  has  grown  up  as  to 
the  proportion  of  pieces  in  the  Reliques  which  were 
taken  from  the  MS.  This  is  owing  to  a  misleading 
statement  made  by  Percy  in  his  preface,  to  the  effect 
that  "  the  greater  part  of  them  are  extracted  from 

*  "ffull  40  yeeres  his  royall  crowne 
hath  bcene  his  fathers  and  his  owne." 

Fercy  Folio  MS.  (ii.  25/17-18.) 

t  Furnivall's  Forewords,  p.  xiii. 


Ixxxvi        THE    FOLIO    MS.    AND 

an  ancient  MS.  in  the  editor's  possession,  which 
contains  near  two  hundred  poems,  songs,  and  metri- 
cal romances."  The  fact  is  that  only  one-fourth 
were  so  taken.  The  Reliques  contain  i8o  pieces, 
and  of  these  only  forty-five*  are  taken  from  the 
manuscript.  We  thus  see  that  a  very  small  part  of 
the  manuscript  was  printed  by  Percy.  He  mentions 
some  of  the  other  pieces   in   various   parts   of  his 


*  The  following  is  a  list  of  these,  taken  from  Mr.  Furnivall's 
Fo7'ewords : — 

Sir  Cauline.  The  Winning  of  Cales. 

King  Estmere.  The  Spanish  Lady's  Love. 

Robin  Hood  and  Guy  of  Gis-  The  Complaint  of  Conscience. 

borne.  K.  John  and  the  Abbot  of  Can- 

The  Child  of  EUe.  terbury. 

Edom  O'Gordon  (or  Captaine  The  Heir  of  Lynne. 

Carre).  To  Althea  from  Prison  (When 

Adam  Bell,  Clym  o'  the  Clough,  Love  with  unconfined  wings). 

and  William  of  Cloudesly.  Old  Tom  of  Bedlam. 

Take  thy  old  Cloak  about  thee  The  Boy  and  the  Mantle. 

(or  Bell  my  wife).  The  Marriage  of  Sir  Gawaine. 

Sir  Lancelot  du  Lake.  King  Arthur's  Death. 

The    more    modern    Ballad    of  The  Legend  of  King  Arthur. 

Chevy  Chase.  Glasgerion. 

The  Rising  in  the  North.  Old  Robin  of  Portingale. 

Northumberland    betrayed    by  Child  Waters. 

Douglas.  Litde  Musgrave  and  Lady  Bar- 

The  Not-browne  Mayd.  nard. 

Sir  Aldingar.  Gil  Morrice. 

Gentle  Heardsman,  tell  to  me.  Legend  of  Sir  Guy. 

The  Beggar's  Daughter  of  Bed-  Guy  and  Amarant. 

nal  Green.  The  Shepherd's  Resolution. 

Sir  Andrew  Barton.  The  Lady's  Fall. 

Lady  Bothwell's  Lament.  The  King  of  France's  Daughter. 

The   Murder    of  the   King   of  A  Lover  of  Late. 

Scots.  The  King  and  Miller  of  Mans- 

The  King  of  Scots  and  Andrew  field. 

Browne,  though  in  the  Folio,  Dulcina. 

was  printed   by  Percy  from  The  Wandering  Prince  of  Troy. 

the  Antiquaries'  copy.  The  Aspiring  Shepherd. 
Mary  Ambree. 


THE    '^  RELIQUESr  Ixxxvii 

book,  and  he  proposed  to  publish  a  fourth  volume 
of  the  Rcliqucs  at  some  future  period  that  never 
came. 

Mr.  Furnivall  has  the  following-  remarks  on  the 
gains  to  literature  by  the  publication  of  the  manu- 
script :  "  It  is  more  that  we  have  now  for  the  first 
time  Egcr  and  Gi'inie  in  its  earlier  state,  Sir  Lam- 
bcwell,  besides  the  Cavilcrcs  praise  of  his  hawking, 
the  complete  versions  of  Scottish  Fcildc  and  Kinge 
Arthur s  Death,  the  fullest  of  Floddcn  Fcilde  and 
the  verse  Jllerliiic,  the  Earle  of  Wcstmo7'landc,  Bos- 
li'orth  Fcildc,  the  curious  poem  of  John  de  Rccvc, 
and  the  fine  alliterative  one  of  Death  and  Liffc,  with 
its  gracious  picture  of  Lady  dame  Life,  awakening 
life  and  love  in  grass  and  tree,  in  bird  and  man,  as 
she  speeds  to  her  conquest  over  death." 

In  1774  Percy  wrote  :  "  In  three  or  four  years  I 
intend  to  publish  a  volume  or  two  more  of  old  Eng- 
lish and  Scottish  poems  in  the  manner  of  my 
Reliqncsr  And  again  in  1778:  "With  regard  to 
the  Reliques,  I  have  a  large  fund  of  materials,  which 
when  my  son  has  compleated  his  studies  at  the 
University,  he  may,  if  he  likes  it,  distribute  into  one 
or  more  additional  volumes."  The  death  of  this 
son  put  an  end  to  his  hopes,  but  before  the  fourth 
edition  was  required,  the  bishop  had  obtained  the 
assistance  of  his  nephew,  the  Rev.  Thomas  Percy. 
In  1 801  he  wrote  as  follows  to  Jamicson,  who  had 
asked  for  some  extracts  from  the  folio  :  "  Till  my 
nephew  has  completed  his  collection  for  the  intended 
fourth  volume  it  cannot  be  decided  whether  he  may 
not  wish  to  insert  himself  the  fragments  you  desire  ; 
but  I  have  copied  for  you  here  that  one  which  you 
particularly  pointed  out,  as  I  was  unwilling  to  dis- 
appoint your  wishes  and  expectations  altogether. 
By  it  you  will  sec  the  defective  and  incorrect  state 
of  the   old   text   in  the  ancient   folio    MS.,  and  the 


Ixxxviii       THE    FOLIO    MS.   AND 

irresistible  demand  on  the  editor  of  the  Reliques  to 
attempt  some  of  those  conjectural  emendations, 
which  have  been  blamed  by  one  or  two  rigid  critics, 
but  without  which  the  collection  would  not  have 
deserved  a  moment's  attention." 

Percy  has  been  very  severely  judged  for  the  altera- 
tions he  made  in  his  manuscript  authorities;  and  Rit- 
son  has  attempted  to  consider  his  conduct  as  a  ques- 
tion of  morality  rather  than  one  of  taste.  As  each 
point  is  noticed  in  the  prefaces  to  the  various  pieces, 
it  is  not  necessary  to  discuss  the  question  here.  It 
may,  however,  be  remarked  that,  in  spite  of  all  Rit- 
son's  attacks  (and  right  was  sometimes  on  his  side), 
the  Reliques  remain  to  the  present  day  unsuper- 
seded. 

Mr.  Thoms  communicated  to  the  Notes  and 
Queries  (5th  series,  v.  431)  the  following  note,  which 
he  made  upwards  of  forty  years  ago,  after  a  conver- 
sation with  Francis  Douce  : — 

"  Mr,  Douce  told  me  that  the  Bishop  (Percy) 
originally  intended  to  have  left  the  manuscript  to 
Ritson ;  but  the  reiterated  abuse  with  which  that 
irritable  and  not  always  faultless  antiquary  visited 
him  obliged  him  to  alter  his  determination.  With 
regard  to  the  alterations  (?  amendments)  made  by 
Percy  in  the  text,  Mr.  Douce  told  me  that  he  (Percy) 
read  to  him  one  day  from  the  MS.,  while  he  held  the 
work  in  his  hand  to  compare  the  two  ;  and  *  certainly 
the  variations  were  ereater  than  I  could  have  ex- 
pected,'  said  my  old  friend,  with  a  shrug  of  the 
shoulders." 

Of  the  other  sources  from  which  Percy  drew  his 
materials  litde  need  be  said.  2.  Some  of  the  ballads 
were  taken  from  MSS.  in  public  libraries,  and  others 
from  MSS.  that  were  lent  to  him.  3.  The  Scotch 
ballads  supplied  by  Sir  David  Dalrymple  have 
already  been  referred  to.     4.    The  printed  ballads 


THE    -RELIQUESr  Ixxxix 

are  chiefly  taken  from  the  Pepys  Collection  at  Cam- 
bridge. 5.  When  the  Rcliqtics  were  first  published, 
the  elegant  poems  in  X\\e.  Paradysc  of  Dayiity  Droises, 
England's  Helico7i,  were  little  known,  and  it  was  a 
happy  thought  on  the  part  of  Percy  to  intersperse 
these  smaller  pieces  among  the  longer  ballads,  so  as 
to  please  the  reader  with  a  constant  variety. 

The  weak  point  in  the  book  is  the  insertion  of 
some  of  the  modern  pieces.  The  old  minstrel  be- 
lieved the  wonders  he  related  ;  but  a  poet  educated 
in  modern  ideas  cannot  transfer  himself  back  to  the 
times  of  chivalry,  so  that  his  attempts  at  imitating 
"  the  true  Gothic  manner  "  are  apt  to  fill  his  readers 
with  a  sense  of  unreality. 

After  the  first  edition  of  the  Rcliques  was  printed, 
and  before  it  was  published,  Percy  made  a  great 
alteration  in  its  arrancrement.  The  first  volume  was 
turned  into  the  third,  and  the  third  into  the  first,  as 
may  be  seen  by  a  reference  to  the  foot  of  the  pages 
where  the  old  numbering  remains.  By  this  means 
the  Arthu7'-  Ballads  were  turned  off  to  the  end,  and 
Chevy  Chase  and  Robin  Hood  obtained  the  place  of 
honour.  Several  ballads  were  also  omitted  at  the 
last  moment,  and  the  numbers  left  vacant.  These 
occur  in  a  copy  of  two  volumes  at  Oxford  which 
formerly  belonged  to  Douce.  In  Vol.  III.  (the  old 
Vol.  I.),  Book  I,  there  is  no  No.  19;  in  the  Douce 
copy  this  is  filled  by  The  Song-birds.  In  Vol.  II., 
Book  3,  there  are  no  Nos.  10  and  1 1 ;  but  in  the  Douce 
copy,  Nos.  9,  10,  and  11  are  Cock  LorrelTs  Treat, 
The  Moral  Uses  of  Tobacco,  and  Old  Simon  the 
Kinge.  Besides  these  omissions  it  will  be  seen  that 
in  Book  3  of  Vol.  III.  there  are  two  Nos.  2  ;  and  that 
George  Barnwell  must  have  been  inserted  at  the  last 
moment,  as  it  occupies  a  duplicate  series  of  pages 
225-240,  which  are  printed  between  brackets.  In 
1765  the  volumes  were   published  in    London.      In 


xc  THE    FOLIO    MS. 

the  following  year  a  surreptitious  edition  was  pub- 
lished in  Dublin,  and  in  1767  appeared  a  second 
edition  in  London.  In  1775  was  published  the  third 
edition,  which  was  reprinted  at  Frankfort  in  1790. 
The  fourth  edition,  ostensibly  edited  by  the  Rev. 
Thomas  Percy,  but  really  the  work  of  the  bishop 
himself,  was  published  in  1794.  Many  improvements 
were  made  in  this  edition,  and  it  contains  Percy's 
final  corrections  ;  the  fifth  edition,  published  in  18 12, 
being  merely  a  reprint  of  the  fourth. 

The  year  1765  was  then  a  memorable  one  in  the 
history  of  literature.  The  current  ballads  which  were 
bawled  in  the  street,  or  sung  in  the  alehouse,  were  so 
mean  and  vulgar  that  the  very  name  of  ballad  had 
sunk  into  disrepute.  It  was  therefore  a  revelation  to 
many  to  find  that  a  literature  of  nature  still  existed 
which  had  descended  from  mother  to  child  in  remote 
districts,  or  was  buried  in  old  manuscripts,  covered 
with  the  dust  of  centuries.  It  is  necessary  to  realize 
this  state  of  things  in  order  to  understand  Percy's 
apologetic  attitude.  He  collected  his  materials  from 
various  sources  with  great  labour,  and  spared  no 
pains  in  illustrating  the  poetry  by  instructive  prose. 
Yet  after  welding  with  the  force  of  genius  the  various 
parts  into  an  harmonious  whole,  he  was  doubtful  of 
the  reception  it  was  likely  to  obtain,  and  he  called 
the  contents  of  his  volumes  "  the  barbarous  produc- 
tions of  unpolished  ages."  He  backed  his  own 
opinion  of  their  interest  by  bringing  forward  the 
names  of  the  chiefs  of  the  republic  of  letters,  and  ill 
did  they  requite  him.  Johnson  parodied  his  verses, 
and  Warburton  sneered  at  him  as  the  man  "who 
wrote  about  the  Chinese."  Percy  looked  for  his 
reward  where  he  received  nothing  but  laughter ; 
but  the  people  accepted  his  book  with  gladness,  and 
the  young  who  fed  upon  the  food  he  presented  to 
them  grew  up  to  found  new  schools  of  poetry. 


BALLAD    LITERATURE.  xci 

Few  books  have  exerted  such  extended  influence 
over  EngHsh  literature  as  Y^xzysRcliqucs.  Beattie's 
Mi?istrel  was  inspired  by  a  perusal  of  the  Essay  on 
the  A7icinit  Minstrels ;  and  man)'  authors  have  ex- 
pressed with  gratitude  their  obligations  to  the  bishop 
and  his  book. 

How  profoundly  the  poetry  of  nature,  which  lived 
on  in  the  ballads  of  the  country,  stirred  the  souls  of 
men  is  seen  in  the  instance  of  two  poets  of  strikingly 
different  characteristics.  Scott  made  his  first  ac- 
quaintance with  the  Rcliqncs  at  the  age  of  thirteen, 
and  the  place  where  he  read  them  was  ever  after 
imprinted  upon  his  memory.  The  bodily  appetite 
of  youth  was  unnoticed  while  he  mentally  devoured 
the  volumes  under  the  huge  leaves  of  the  plantain 
tree.  Wordsworth  was  not  behind  Scott  in  admira- 
tion of  the  book.  He  wrote  :  "I  have  already  stated 
how  much  Germany  is  indebted  to  this  work,  and 
for  our  own  country,  its  poetry  has  been  absolutely 
redeemed  by  it.  I  do  not  think  there  is  an  able 
writer  in  verse  of  the  present  day  who  would  not 
be  proud  to  acknowledge  his  obligation  to  the 
Reliipies.  I  know  that  it  is  so  with  my  friends  ; 
and  for  myself,  I  am  happy  in  this  occasion  to 
make  a  public  avowal  of  my  own."  After  such 
men  as  these  have  spoken,  who  can  despise  our  old 
ballads  ? 


Ballad  Literature  since  Percy. 

The  impetus  given  to  the  collection  of  old  ballads 
by  the  publication  of  thttRcliqucs  showed  itself  in  the 
rapid  succession  of  volumes  of  the  same  class  which 
issued  from  the  press.  Most  of  these  were  devoted 
to  the  publication  of  Scottish  ballads  exclusively.  In 
1769,  David  Herd,  a  native  of  St.  Cyrus,  in  Kincar- 


L 


xcn         BALLAD    LITERATURE 

dineshire,  who  had  spent  most  of  his  Hfe  as  clerk  in 
an  accountant's  office  in  Edinburgh,  pubHshed  his 
Ancient  and  Modern  Scottish  Songs,  Heroic  Ballads, 
&c.,  a  work  which  was  enlarged  into  two  volumes  in 
1776.*  He  was  a  most  successful  and  faithful  col- 
lector, and  not  being  a  poet,  he  was  preserved  from 
the  temptation  of  tampering  with  his  stores.  Mother- 
well mentions  twenty  ballads  which  had  not  appeared 
in  a  collected  form  before  the  publication  of  this  work. 
Herd  was  assisted  in  his  editorial  labours  by  George 
Paton. 

In  1777  appeared  the  first  edition  of  Evans's  Old 

Ballads,  Historical  and  Narrative,  in  two  volumes. 

\    The  best  edition  of  this  work,  edited  by  the  son  of 

the  original  compiler,  was  published  in  4  vols.,  18 10. 

In  1 78 1  Pinkerton  published  his  Scottish  T^^agic 
Ballads,  which  was  followed  in  1 783  by  Select  Scottish 
Ballads.  These  volumes  contained  several  fabrica- 
tions by  the  editor,  as  already  stated  on  a  previous 
page. 

In  1783  Ritson  commenced  the  publication  of  that 
long  series  of  volumes  which  is  of  such  inestimable 
value  to  the  literary  antiquary,  with  A  Select  Collec- 
tion of  English  Songs.  The  Bishopric  Garland,  or 
Durham  Minstrel,  followed,  in  1 784  ;  The  Yorkshire 
Garland,  in  1788;  the  Pieces  of  Ancient  Popular 
Poetry,  in  1 79 1  ;  Ancient  Songs  and  Ballads  from 
the  reign  of  Henry  II.  to  the  Revo  hit  ion,  in  1787; 
The  NortJmmberland  Garland,  in  1 793  ;  Scottish 
Songs,  in  1794  ;  and  Robin  Hood,  in  1795. 

In  1787  was  commenced  The  Scots  Musical  Mu- 
seum, by  James  Johnson.  Johnson  was  a  music-seller 
and  engraver  in  Edinburgh,  and  the  work  was  really 


*  This  work  was  reprinted  twice  during  the  year  1869  :  i.  at 
Edinburgh  under  the  editorial  care  of  Mr.  Sidney  Gilpin ;  2.  at 
Glasgow. 


SINCE    PERCY.  xciii 

projected  by  William  Tytler  of  Woodhouselee,  Dr. 
Blacklock,  and  Samuel  Clark.  The  first  volume  was 
partly  printed,  when  Burns  became  acquainted  with 
the  object  of  the  work.  He  then  entered  into  the 
scheme  with  enthusiasm,  and  besides  "  beofOfinof  and 
borrowing"  old  songs,  wrote  many  new  songs  him- 
self. 

In  I  So  I  was  published  at  Edinburgh,  Scottish 
Poems  of  the  XV Ith  Century,  edited  by  J.  G.  Dalzell, 
which  contains  a  reprint  of  Ane  Compeitdiotis  Booke 
of  Godly  and  Spiritnall  Songs,  already  referred  to 
above. 

In  1802  appeared  the  first  two  volumes  of  the  only 
work  which  is  worthy  to  stand  side  by  side  with  the 
Rcliqiics.  Sir  Walter  Scott's  Minstrelsy  of  the  Scot- 
tish Border  is  a  book  that  can  be  read  through,  and 
it  and  the  Reliques  are  the  only  works  of  the  class  in 
which  the  materials  are  welded  into  a  whole,  so  as  no 
longer  to  appear  a  collection  of  units. 

In  1806,  Robert  Jamieson  published  at  Edinburgh 
his  Popular  Ballads  and  Songs,  from  Traditioji, 
Manuscripts,  aiid scarce  editions.  H  e  was  working  upon 
this  book  at  the  same  time  that  Scott  was  en^acred 
upon  his  Minstrelsy,  and  he  obtained  much  of  his  ma- 
terial from  the  same  source  as  Scott,  viz,  Mrs.  Brown, 
of  Falkland ;  but  he,  nevertheless,  was  able  to  print 
seventeen  ballads  that  had  not  before  appeared  in 
any  published  collection.  Jamieson  has  the  follow- 
ing remarks  on  himself  in  the  Introduction  to  the  first 
volume  : — 

"  Being  obliged  to  go,  at  a  few  weeks'  warning,  to 
a  distant  part  of  the  world,  and  to  seek,  on  the  shores 
of  the  frozen  Baltic,  for  (which  his  own  country  seems 
to  deny  him)  the  means  of  employing  his  talents  and 
industry  in  some  such  manner  as  may  enable  him  to 
preserve  (for  a  time,  at  least)  his  respectability  and 
a  partial  independence   in   the  world,   the   following 


xciv        BALLAD    LITERATURE 

sheets  have  been  prepared  for  the  press,  amidst  all 
the  anxiety  and  bustle  of  getting  ready  and  packing 
up  for  a  voyage."  (Vol.  i.  p.  xvii.) 

John  Finlay  of  Glasgow  published  in  1808  his 
Scottish  Historical  and  Romantic  Ballads.  These 
volumes  only  contain  twenty-six  ballads  in  all. 

John  Gilchrist's  Collection  of  Ancient  and  Modern 
Scottish  Ballads,  Tales,  and  Songs,  (Edinburgh  181 5) 
is  a  carefully  edited  work,  compiled  from  former 
books. 

In  1822  David  Laing  published  his  valuable 
Select  Remains  of  the  Ancient  Poptdar  Poetry  of  Scot- 
land, and  in  1824  C.  K.Sharpe  printed  privately  a  little 
volume  which  he  entitled  A  Ballad  Book.  James 
Maidment  printed  also  privately  A  North  Conntrie 
Garland  m  the  same  year  (1824). 

In  1825  E.  V.  Utterson  printed  "Select  Pieces  of 
Early  English  Poetry,  republished  principally  from 
early  printed  copies  in  Black  Letter." 

Peter  Buchan  commenced  his  ballad  career  by 
publishing  at  Peterhead,  in  1825,  a  little  volume 
entitled  "  Gleanings  of  Scotch,  English,  and  Irish 
scarce  old  ballads,  chiefly  tragical  and  historical, 
many  of  them  connected  with  the  localities  of  Aber- 
deenshire." In  1828  he  published  his  "Ancient 
Ballads  and  Songs  of  the  North  of  Scotland,  hitherto 
unpublished."  He  affirmed  that  his  materials  were 
faithfully  and  honestly  transcribed,  and  "  they  have 
suffered  no  change  since  they  fortunately  were  con- 
signed to  me  by  their  foster  parents."  A  portrait  is 
given  in  this  book,  which  represents  the  compiler  as 
a  wild-looking,  unkempt,  man.  Besides  these  two 
books  Buchan  made  a  large  collection  of  ballads, 
songs,  and  poems,  which  he  took  down  from  the 
oral  recitation  of  the  peasantry.  These  were  pro- 
nounced by  Scott  to  be  "  decidedly  and  indubitably 
original."    The  two  folio  MS.  volumes  in  which  they 


SINCE    PERCY.  xcv 

were  contained  came  into  the  possession  of  the  Percy- 
Society,  and  a  selection  was  made  from  them  by 
J.  H.  Dixon,  in  1845,  who  entitled  his  work  Scottish 
Traditional  Versions  of  Ancient  Ballads  (Percy 
Society  Publications,  vol.  xvii,). 

In  1826  Allan  Cunningham  published  The  Songs 
of  Scotland^  to  which  reference  has  already  been 
made. 

George  R.  Kinloch  published  in  1827,  "Ancient 
Scottish  Ballads,  recovered  from  tradition,  and  never 
before  published."  He  states  in  his  introduction 
that  "  the  present  collection  is  almost  entirely  com- 
posed of  ballads  obtained  in  the  '  North  Countrie,' 
a  district  hitherto  but  little  explored,  though  by  no 
means  destitute  of  traditional  poetry." 

In  this  same  year  appeared  William  Motherwell's 
Minstrelsy,  A  ncient  and  Hlodern,  a  work  of  the  most 
sterling  character,  which  contains  the  best  account 
of  ballad  literature  extant. 

In  1829  Robert  Chambers  published  his  collection 
of  Scottish  Ballads,  which  contains  eighty  pieces,  of 
which  number  twelve  are  modern,  or  imitations.  At 
this  period  the  editor  had  not  elaborated  his  theory 
that  Sir  Patrick  Spence  and  certain  other  ballads 
were  modern  imitations. 

Peter  Cunningham  published  The  Songs  of  Eng- 
la7id  and  Scotland,  in  1835,  and  Thomas  Wright 
printed  The  Political  Songs  of  England  from  the  reign 
of  John  to  that  of  Edward  II.  in  1839,  for  the  Camden 
Society. 

In  1840  was  founded,  in  honour  of  Bishop  Percy, 
the  Percy  Society,  which  continued  to  print  some  of 
the  old  Garlands  and  various  collections  of  old  Bal- 
lads until  1852. 

William  Chappell  published  in  1840  his  valuable 
Collection  of  National  English  Airs,  consisting  of 
Anciefit    Song,    Ballad,    and    Dance    Tunes,    which 


xcvi       BALLAD    LITERATURE 

work  was  re-arranged  and  enlarged,  and  issued  in 
1855  as  Popular  Music  of  the  Olden  Time.  This 
work  is  a  mine  of  wealth  concerning  both  the  airs 
and  the  words  of  our  ballad  treasures.  It  was  a 
truly  national  undertaking,  and  has  been  completed 
with  great  skill.     No  ballad  lover  can  get  on  without 

it. 

In  1844  Alexander  Whitelaw  published  The 
Book  of  Scottish  Ballads,  and  The  Book  of  Scottish 
Song.  An  edition  of  the  former  was  printed  in 
1875,  and  one  of  the  latter  in  1866,  which  contains 
about  twelve  hundred  and  seventy  songs. 

In  1847  John  Matthew  Gutch  published  ''A  Lytell 
Geste  of  Robin  Hode,  with  other  Ancient  and  Modern 
Ballads  and  Songs  relating  to  this  celebrated  yeo- 


man." 


In  the  same  year  appeared  Frederick  Sheldon's 
Minstrelsy  of  the  English  Border,  but  it  is  a  work  of 
very  little  value. 

Dr.  Rimbault  printed  in  1850  those  valuable 
Musical  Illust7'ations  of  Bishop  Percy  s  Reliques, 
which  are  so  frequently  quoted  in  the  following 
pages. 

Professor  Francis  James  Child,  of  Harvard  Col- 
lege, one  of  our  greatest  authorities  on  Ballad  lore, 
published  at  Boston,  U.S.,  a  very  complete  collection 
of  English  and  Scottish  Ballads,  in  eight  volumes. 
The  first  volume  contains  a  full  list  of  the  principal 
collections  of  Ballads  and  Songs. 

In  1858  William  Edmondstoune  Aytoun  published 
his  Ballads  of  Scotland,  which  contain  collated  ver- 
sions of  one  hundred  and  thirty-nine  ballads,  with 
short  introductions. 

The  year  1867  was  memorable  as  seeing  the  pub- 
lication of  the  first  instalment  of  the  Folio  Manuscript 
under  the  editorship  of  J.  W.  Hales  and  F.  J.  Fur- 
nivall. 


SINCE    PERCY.  xcvii 

In  1868  appeared  "Scottish  Ballads  and  Songs, 
historical  and  traditionar)',  edited  by  James  Maid- 
ment,  Edinburgh,  1868,"  2  vols.  The  number  of 
pieces  is  small  but  select,  and  the  introductions  are 
full  and  elaborate. 

In  1 87 1  Messrs.  Ogle  of  Glasgow  published  a 
well  edited  collection  of  Scottish  Ballads,  with  an 
interesting  introduction  and  notes,  entitled  "  The 
Ballad  Minstrelsy  of  Scotland.  Romantic  and  His- 
torical.    Collated  and  Annotated." 

Upon  the  completion  of  the  Percy  Folio,  Mr.  Fur- 
nivall  started  the  Ballad  Society,  for  the  publication 
of  the  various  collections  of  ballads  that  exist.  Mr. 
Chappell  has  edited  half  of  the  Roxburghe  liJallads 
in  several  parts,  and  Mr.  Furnivall  himself  has 
printed  some  interesting  ballads  from  manuscripts. 
All  these  have  been  presented  to  readers  with  a 
wealth  of  illustrative  notes. 

The  books  referred  to  above  form  but  a  portion  of 
the  literature  of  the  subject.  So  mighty  has  been  the 
growth  of  the  small  seed  set  by  Percy,  that  the  des- 
pised outcasts  which  the  literary  leaders  attempted 
to  laugh  out  of  existence  have  made  good  their  right 
to  a  high  position  among  the  poetry  of  the  nation, 
and  proved  that  they  possessed  the  germs  of  a  long 
and  vigorous  life. 

H.  B.  W. 


i 


TO 
THE    RIGHT    HONOURABLE 

ELIZABETH, 

countess  of  northumberland  ; 

in  her  own  right, 

baroness  percy,  lucy,  toynings,  fitz-payne, 

bryan,  and  latimer. 

Madam, — 


SS^,^3^  HOSE  writers,  who  solicit  the  protec- 


/;- 


tion  of  the  noble  and  the  ereat,  are 
often  exposed  to  censure  by  the  impro- 
priety of  their  addresses  :  a  remark 
that  will,  perhaps,  be  too  readily  ap- 
plied to  him,  who,  having  nothing  better  to  offer 
than  the  rude  songs  of  ancient  minstrels,  aspires  to 
the  patronage  of  the  Countess  of  Northumljerland, 
and  hopes  that  the  barbarous  productions  of  un- 
polished ages  can  obtain  the  approbation  or  notice 
of  her,  who  adorns  courts  by  her  presence,  and 
diffuses  elegance  by  her  example. 

But  this  impropriety,  it  is  presumed,  will  dis- 
appear, when  it  is  declared  that  these  poems  are 
presented  to  your  Ladyship,  not  as  labours  of  art,  but 
as  effusions  of  nature,  showing  the  first  efforts  of 
ancient    genius,    and 


exhibiting   the    customs   and 


•b 


B 


2  DEDICA  TION. 

opinions  of  remote  ages  :  of  ages  that  had  been 
almost  lost  to  memory,  had  not  the  gallant  deeds 
of  your  illustrious  ancestors  preserved  them  from 
oblivion. 

No  active  or  comprehensive  mind  can  forbear 
some  attention  to  the  reliques  of  antiquity.  It  is 
prompted  by  natural  curiosity  to  survey  the  progress 
of  life  and  manners,  and  to  inquire  by  what  grada- 
tions barbarity  was  civilized,  grossness  refined,  and 
ignorance  instructed ;  but  this  curiosity,  Madam, 
must  be  stronger  in  those  who,  like  your  Ladyship, 
can  remark  in  every  period  the  influence  of  some 
great  progenitor,  and  who  still  feel  in  their  effects 
the  transactions  and  events  of  distant  centuries. 

By  such  bonds,  Madam,  as  I  am  now  introducing 
to  your  presence,  was  the  infancy  of  genius  nurtured 
and  advanced,  by  such  were  the  minds  of  unlettered 
warriors  softened  and  enlarged,  by  "Such  was  the 
memory  of  illustrious  actions  preserved  and  propa- 
gated, by  such  were  the  heroic  deeds  of  the  Earls 
of  Northumberland  sung  at  festivals  in  the  hall  of 
Alnwick  ;  and  those  songs,  which  the  bounty  of 
your  ancestors  rewarded,  now  return  to  your  Lady- 
ship by  a  kind  of  hereditary  right ;  and,  I  flatter 
myself,  will  find  such  reception  as  is  usually  shown 
to  poets  and  historians,  by  those  whose  conscious- 
ness of  merit  makes  it  their  interest  to  be  long 
remembered. 

I  am, 

Madam, 

Your  Ladyship's 

Most  humble. 
And  most  devoted  Servant, 
Thomas  Percy.* 


*  [This  dedication  is  prefixed  to  the  first  edition  of  the  Reliques^ 
(1765),  the  second  edition  (1767),  and  the  third  edition  (1775).] 


TO 

ELIZABETH, 

LATE    DUCHESS    AND    COUNTESS    OF    NORTHUMBERLAND, 

IN    HER    OWN    RIGHT    BARONESS    PERCY, 

ETC.    ETC.    ETC. 

WHO,    BEING    SOLE    HEIRESS    TO    MANY   GREAT    FAMILIES 

OF  OUR  ANCIENT  NOBILITY,  EMPLOYED  THE   PRINCELY 

FORTUNE,     AND     SUSTAINED     THE     ILLUSTRIOUS 

HONOURS,  WHICH    SHE   DERIVED    FROM    THEM, 

THROUGH    HER    WHOLE    LIFE    WITH    THE 

GREATEST     DIGNITY,      GENEROSITY,     AND     SPIRIT  ;      AND 

WHO  FOR  HER  MANY  PUBLIC  AND  PRIVATE  VIRTUES 

WILL  EVER    BE  REMEMBERED    AS    ONE  OF    THE 

FIRST    CHARACTERS    OF    HER    TIME,    THIS 

LITTLE       WORK     WAS        ORIGINALLY 

DEDICATED  ;    AND,  AS    IT    SOMETIMES    AFFORDED    HER 

AMUSEMENT,    AND    WAS    HIGHLY    DISTINGUISHED 

BY    HER     INDULGENT    APPROBATION,    IT    IS 

NOW,    WITH    THE     UTMOST    REGARD, 

RESPECT,    AND    GRATITUDE,  CONSECRATED 

TO    HER    BELOVED     AND    HONOURED 

MEMORY.* 


•  [The  Duchess  of  Northumberland  died  in  the  year  1776,  and 
the  above  inscription  appears  in  the  fourth  echtion  (1794)  and  the 
fifth  edition  (1812),  besides  many  sul)se(]uent  editions.] 


ADVERTISEMENT 


TO    THE    FOURTH     EDITION. 


* 


IWENTY  years  have  near  elapsed  since 
the  last  edition  of  this  work  appeared. 
But,  although  it  was  sufficiently  a 
favourite  with  the  public,  and  had  long 
been  out  of  print,  the  original  editor 
had  no  desire  to  revive  it.  More  important  pursuits 
had,  as  might  be  expected,  engaged  his  attention ; 
and  the  present  edition  would  have  remained  un- 
published, had  he  not  yielded  to  the  importunity  of 
his  friends,  and  accepted  the  humble  offer  of  an 
editor  in  a  nephew,  to  whom,  it  is  feared,  he  will  be 
found  too  partial. 

These  volumes  are  now  restored  to  the  public 
with  such  corrections  and  improvements  as  have 
occurred  since  the  former  impression  ;  and  the  text 
in  particular  hath  been  emended  in  many  passages 
by  recurring  to  the  old  copies.  The  instances,  being 
frequently  trivial,  are  not  always  noted  in  the  margin  ; 
but  the  alteration  hath  never  been  made  without 
good  reason ;  and  especially  in  such  pieces  as  were 
extracted  from  the  folio  manuscript  so  often  -men- 
tioned in  the  following  pages,  where  any  variation 


*  [Published  in  three  volumes  small  octavo  in  1794. 
by  John  Nichols  for  F.  and  C.  Rivington."] 


"  Printed 


A  D  VER  TI SEMEN T.  5 

occurs  from  the  former  impression,  it  will  be  un- 
derstood to  have  been  given  on  the  authority  of 
that  MS. 

The  appeal  publicly  made  to  Dr.  Johnson  in  the 
first  page  of  the  following  Preface,  so  long  since  as 
in  the  year  1765,  and  never  once  contradicted  by 
him  during  so  large  a  portion  of  his  life,  ought  to 
have  precluded  every  doubt  concerning  the  existence 
of  the  MS.  in  question.  But  such,  it  seems,  having 
been  suggested,  it  may  now  be  mentioned,  that, 
while  this  edition  passed  through  his  press,  the  MS. 
itself  was  left  for  near  a  year  with  Mr.  Nichols,  in 
whose  house,  or  in  that  of  its  possessor,  it  was 
examined  with  more  or  less  attention  by  many  gen- 
tlemen of  eminence  in  literature.  At  the  first  publi- 
cation of  these  volumes  it  had  been  in  the  hands  of 
all,  or  most  of,  his  friends  ;  but,  as  it  could  hardly  be 
expected  that  he  should  continue  to  think  of  nothing 
else  but  these  amusements  of  his  youth,  it  was  after- 
wards laid  aside  at  his  residence  in  the  country.  Of 
the  many  gentlemen  above-mentioned,  who  offered 
to  give  their  testimony  to  the  public,  it  will  be  suf- 
ficient to  name  the  Honourable  Daines  Barrington, 
the  Reverend  Clayton  Mordaunt  Cracherode,  and 
those  eminent  Critics  on  Shakespeare,  the  Reverend 
Dr.  Farmer,  George  Steevens,  Esq.,  Edmund 
Malone,  Esq.,  and  Isaac  Reed,  Esq.,  to  whom  I  beg 
leave  to  appeal  for  the  truth  of  the  following  repre- 
sentation. 

The  MS.  is  a  long  narrow  folio  volume,  containing 
195  Sonnets,  Ballads,  Historical  Songs,  and  Metrical 
Romances,  either  in  the  whole  or  in  part,  for  many 
of  them  are  extremely  mutilated  and  imperfect.  The 
first  and  last  leaves  are  wanting ;  and  of  fifty-four 
pages  near  the  beginning  half  of  every  leaf  hath 
been  torn  away,  and  several  others  are  injured 
towards  the  end  ;  besides  that  through  a  great  [kuI 


6  ADVERTISEMENT. 

of  the  volume  the  top  or  bottom  line,  and  sometimes 
both  have  been  cut  off  in  the  binding. 

In  this  state  is  the  MS.  itself:  and  even  where 
the  leaves  have  suffered  no  injury,  the  transcripts, 
which  seem  to  have  been  all  made  by  one  person 
(they  are  at  least  all  in  the  same  kind  of  hand),  are 
sometimes  extremely  incorrect  and  faulty,  being  in 
such  instances  probably  made  from  defective  copies, 
or  the  imperfect  recitation  of  illiterate  fingers  ;  so 
that  a  considerable  portion  of  the  song  or  narrative 
is  sometimes  omitted  ;  and  miserable  trash  or  non- 
sense not  unfrequently  introduced  into  pieces  of 
considerable  merit.  And  often  the  copyist  grew  so 
weary  of  his  labour  as  to  write  on  without  the  least 
attention  to  the  sense  or  meaning ;  so  that  the  word 
which  should  form  the  rhyme  is  found  misplaced  in 
the  middle  of  the  line ;  and  we  have  such  blunders 
as  these,  want  and  will  for  wanton  will ;  *  even  pan 
and  zuale  for  zvan  and  pale, ^  &c.,  &c. 

Hence  the  public  may  judge  how  much  they  are 
indebted  to  the  composer  of  this  collection  ;  who,  at 
an  early  period  of  life,  with  such  materials  and  such 
subjects,  formed  a  work  which  hath  been  admitted 
into  the  most  elegant  libraries  ;  and  with  which  the 
judicious  antiquary  hath  just  reason  to  be  satisfied, 
while  refined  entertainment  hath  been  provided  for 
every  reader  of  taste  and  genius. 

Thomas  Percy, 
Fellow  of  St.  John's  College,  Oxford. 

*  [Fol.  MS.]  Page  130,  ver.  117.  (This  must  have  been  copied 
from  a  reciter.) 

t  [Fol.  MS.]    Page  139,  ver.  164,  viz. 

"  his  visage  waxed  pan  and  wale." 


THE  PREFACE. 


HE  reader  is  here  presented  widi  select 
remains  of  our  ancient  English  bards 
and  minstrels,  an  order  of  men,  who 
were  once  greatly  respected  by  our 
ancestors,  and  contributed  to  soften  the 
roughness  of  a  martial  and  unlettered  people  by  their 
songs  and  by  their  music. 

The  greater  part  of  them  are  extracted  from  an 
ancient  folio  manuscript,  in  the  editor's  possession, 
which  contains  near  200  poems,  songs,  and  metrical 
romances.  This  MS.  was  written  about  the  middle 
of  the  last  century  ;  but  contains  compositions  of  all 
times  and  dates,  from  the  ages  prior  to  Chaucer,  to 
the  conclusion  of  the  reign  of  Charles  I.* 

This  manuscript  was  shewn  to  several  learned 
and  ingenious  friends,  who  thought  the  contents  too 
curious  to  be  consigned  to  oblivion,  and  importuned 
the  possessor  to  select  some  of  them,  and  give  them 
to  the  press.  As  most  of  them  are  of  great  simpli- 
city, and  seem  to  have  been  merely  written  for  the 
people,  he  was  long  in  doubt,  whether,  in  the  present 
state  of  im[)roved  literature,  they  could  be  deemed 


*  Chaucer  quotes  the  old  Romance  of  Libius  Disconius,  and 
some  others,  which  arc  found  in  this  MS.  (Sec  the  Essay,  vol.  iii. 
Appendix  I.)  It  also  contains  several  songs  relating  to  the  civil 
war  in  the  last  century,  l)Ul  not  one  tliat  alUulcs  XX)  the  Resto- 
ration. 


8  PREFACE. 

worthy  the  attention  of  the  public.  At  length  the 
importunity  of  his  friends  prevailed,  and  he  could 
refuse  nothing  to  such  judges  as  the  author  of  the 
Rambler  and  the  late  Mr.  Shenstone. 

Accordingly  such  specimens  of  ancient  poetry  have 
been  selected,  as  either  shew  the  gradation  of  our 
language;  exhibit  the  progress  of  popular  opinions, 
display  the  peculiar  manners  and  customs  of  former 
ao-es,  or  throw  light  on  our  earlier  classical  poets. 

They  are  here  distributed  into  volumes,  each  of 
which  contains  an  independent  series  of  poems,  ar- 
rano-ed  chiefly  according  to  the  order  of  time,  and 
shewing  the  gradual  improvements  of  the  English 
language  and  poetry  from  the  earliest  ages  down  to 
the  present.  Each  volume,  or  series,  is  divided  into 
three  books,  to  afford  so  many  pauses,  or  resting- 
places  to  the  reader,  and  to  assist  him  in  distinguish- 
ing between  the  productions  of  the  earlier,  the  middle, 
and  the  latter  times. 

In  a  polished  age,  like  the  present,  I  am  sensible 
that  many  of  these  reliques  of  antiquity  will  require 
great  allowances  to  be  made  for  them.  Yet  have 
they,  for  the  most  part,  a  pleasing  simplicity,  and 
many  artless  graces,  which  in  the  opinion  of  no  mean 
critics*  have  been  thought  to  compensate  for  the 
want  of  higher  beauties,  and,  if  they  do  not  dazzle 
the  imagination,  are  frequently  found  to  interest  the 
heart. 

To  atone  for  the  rudeness  of  the  more  obsolete 
poems,  each  volume  concludes  with  a  few  modern 
attempts  in  the  same  kind  of  writing  :  and,  to  take 
off  from  the  tediousness  of  the  longer  narratives. 


*  Mr.  Addison,  Mr.  Dryden,  and  the  witty  Lord  Dorset,  &c. 
See  the  Spectator,  No.  70.  To  these  might  be  added  many  eminent 
judges  now  alive.  X^e  learned  Selden  appears  also  to  have  been 
fond  of  collecting  these  old  things.     See  below. 


PRE  FA  CE.  9 

they  are  everywhere  intermincrled  with  Httle  elegant 
pieces  of  the  lyric  kind/  Select  ballads  in  the" old 
Scottish  dialect,  most  of  them  of  the  first-rate  merit, 
are  also  interspersed  among  those  of  our  ancient 
English  minstrels  ;  and  the  artless  productions  of 
these  old  rhapsodists  are  occasionally  confronted 
with  specimens  of  the  composition  of  contfemporary 
poets  of  a  higher  class ;  of  those  who  had  all  the 
advantages  of  learning  in  the  times  in  which  they 
lived,  and  who  wrote  for  fame  and  for  posterity.  Yet 
perhaps  the  palm  will  be  frequently  due  to  the  old 
strolling  minstrels,  who. composed  their  rhymes  to  be 
sung  to  their  harps,  and  who  looked  no  farther  than 
for  present  applause,  and  present  subsistence. 

The  reader  will  find  this  class  of  men  occasionally 
described  in  the  following  volumes,  and  some  parti- 
culars relating  to  their  history  in  an  Essay  subjoined. 
(iVppendix  I.) 

It  will  be  proper  here  to  give  a  short  account  of 
the  other  collections  that  were  consulted,  and  to 
make  my  acknowledgements  to  those  gentlemen  who 
were  so  kind  as  to  impart  extracts  from  them  ;  for, 
while  this  selection  was  making,  a  great  number  of 
ingenious  friends  took  a  share  in  the  work,  and  ex- 
plored many  large  repositories  in  its  favour. 

The  first  of  these  that  deserved  notice  was  the 
Pepysian  library  at  Magdalen  College,  Cambridge. 
Its  founder,  Sam.  Pepys,  Esq.,*  Secretary  of  the 
Admiralty  in  the  reigns  of  Charles  II.  and  James  II. 
had    made    a  large   collection    of    ancient    English 


*  A  life  of  our  curious  collector  Mr.  Pepys  may  be  seen  in  the 
continuation  of  Mr.  Collier's  Supi)lement  to  his  Great  Diction. 
17  15,  at  the  end  of  vol.  iii.  folio.     Art.  Pep-t 

t  Ww  Percy's  time  Pepys  was  not  known  as  the  author  of  that 
Diary  which  will  keep  his  name  in  remembrance  so  long  as 
English  literature  continues  to  exist.] 


lo  PREFA  CE. 

ballads,  near  2,000  in  number,  which  he  has  left 
pasted  in  five  volumes  in  folio  ;  besides  Garlands 
and  other  smaller  rniscellanies.  This  'collection  he 
tells  us  was  "  begun '  by  Mr.  Selden  ;  improved  by 
the  addition  of  many  pieces  elder  thereto  in  time ; 
and  the  whole  continued  down  to  the  year  1 700  ; 
when  the  form  peculiar  till  then  thereto,  viz.,  of  the 
black  letter  with  pictures,  seems  (for  cheapness  sake) 
wholly  laid  aside  for  that  of  the  white  letter  without 
pictures." 

In  the  Ashmole  Library  at  Oxford  is  a  small 
collection  of  ballads  made  by  Anthony  Wood  in  the 
year  1676,  containing  somewhat  more  than  200. 
Many  ancient  popular  poems  are  also  preserved  in 
the  Bodleyan  library. 

The  archives  of  the  Antiquarian  Society  at  London 
contain  a  multitude  of  curious  political  poems  in 
large  folio  volumes,  digested  under  the  several 
reigns  of  Hen.  VIIL,  Edw.  VL,  Mary,  Elizabeth, 
James  L,  &c.* 

In  the  British  Museum  is  preserved  a  large  trea- 
sure of  ancient  English  poems  in  MS.  besides  one 
folio  volume  of  printed  ballads. 

From  all  these  some  of  the  best  pieces  were 
selected  ;  and  from  many  private  collections^  as  well 
printed,  as  manuscript,  particularly  from  one  large 
folio  volume  which  was  lent  by  a  lady. 

Amid  such  a  fund  of  materials,  the  editor  is 
afraid  he  has  been  sometimes  led  to  make  too  great 
a  parade  of  his  authorities.  The  desire  of  being  ac- 
curate hks  perhaps  seduced  him  into  too  minute  and 
trifling  an  exactness  ;  and  in  pursuit  of  information 
he  may  have  been  drawn  into  many  a  petty  and 
frivolous  research.     It  was,  however,  necessary  to 

*  [The  Society  of  Antiquaries  have  pubUshed  a  catalogue  of  this 
collection  by  Robert  Lemon,  8vo.  1866.] 


PREFACE.  II 

give  some  account  of  the  old  copies  ;  thouoh  often, 
for  the  sake  of  brevity,  one  or  two  of  these  only  are 
mentioned,  where  yet  assistance  w^as  received  from 
several.  Where  any  thing  was  altered  that  deserved 
particular  notice,  the  passage  is  generally  distin- 
guished by  two  inverted  '  commas.'  And  the  editor 
has  endeavoured  to  be  as  faithful  as  the  imperfect 
state  of  his  materials  would  admit.  For,  these  old 
popular  rhymes  being  many  of  them  copied  only 
from  illiterate  transcripts,  or  the  imperfect  recitation 
of  itinerant  ballad-singers,  have,  as  might  be  ex- 
pected, been  handed  down  to  us  with  less  care  than 
any  other  writings  in  the  world.  And  the  old 
copies,  whether  ]\IS.  or  printed,  were  often  so  defec- 
tive or  corrupted,  that  a  scrupulous  adherence  to 
their  wretched  readings  would  only  have  exhibited 
unintelligible  nonsense,  or  such  poor  meagre  stuff,  as 
neither  came  from  the  bard,  nor  was  worthy  the 
press;  when,  by  a  few  slight  corrections  or  additions, 
a  most  beautiful  or  interestinof  sense  hath  started 
forth,  and  this  so  naturally  and  easily,  that  the  editor 
could  seldom  prevail  on  himself  to  indulge  the  vanity 
of  making  a  formal  claim  to  the  improvement ;  but 
must  plead  guilty  to  the  charge  of  concealing  his  own 
share  in  the  amendments  under  some  such  general 
title,  as  a  JModcrn  Copy,  or  the  like.  Yet  it  has 
been  his  desi({n  to  orive  sufficient  intimation  where 
any  considerable  liberties*  were  taken  with  the  old 
copies,  and  to  have  retained  either  in  the  text  or 
margin  any  word  or  phrase  which  was  antique, 
obsolete,  unusual,  or  peculiar,  so  that  these  might  be 
safely  quoted  as  of  genuine  and  undoubted  antiquity. 
His  object  was  to  please  both  the  judicious  anticjuary, 
and  the  reader  of  taste  ;  and  he  hath  endeavoured  to  \ 
gratify  both  without  offending  either.  / 

*  Such  liberties  have  been  taken  with  all  those  pieces  which 
liave  three  asterisks  subjoined,  thus  *<,>*. 


12  PREFACE. 

The  plan  of  the  work  was  settled  in  concert  with 
the  late  elegant  Mr.  Shenstone,  who  was  to  have 
borne  a  joint  share  in  it  had  not  death  unhappily  pre- 
vented him*:  most  of  the  modern  pieces  were  of  his 
selection  and  arrangement,  and  the  editor  hopes  to 
be  pardoned  if  he  has  retained  some  things  out  of 
partiality  to  the  judgment  of  his  friend.  The  old 
folio  MS.  above-mentioned  was  a  present  from  Hum- 
phrey Pitt,  Esq.,  of  Prior's-Lee,  in  Shropshire,t  to 
whom  this  public  acknowledgement  is  due  for  that, 
and  many  other  obliging  favours.  To  Sir  David 
Dalrymple,  Bart,,  of  Hailes,  near  Edinburgh,  the 
editor  is  indebted  for  most  of  the  beautiful  Scottish 
poems  with  which  this  little  miscellany  is  enriched, 
and  for  many  curious  and  elegant  remarks  with  which 
they  are  illustrated.  Some  obliging  communications 
of  the  same  kind  were  received  from  John  Mac- 
Gowan,  Esq.,  of  Edinburgh  ;  and  many  curious  ex- 
planations of  Scottish  words  in  the  glossaries  from 
John  Davidson,  Esq.,  of  Edinburgh,  and  from  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Hutchinson,  of  Kimbolton.  Mr.  Warton, 
who  has  twice  done  so  much  honour  to  the  Poetry 
Professor's  chair  at  Oxford,  and  Mr.  Hest,  of  Wor- 


*  That  the  editor  hath  not  here  under-rated  the  assistance  he 
received  from  his  friend,  will  appear  from  Mr.  Shenstone's  own 
letter  to  the  Rev.  Mr.  Graves,  dated  March  i,  1761.  See  his 
Wo7-ks,  vol.  iii.  letter  cii.  It  is  doubtless  a  great  loss  to  this  work 
that  Mr.  Shenstone  never  saw  more  than  about  a  third  of  one  of 
these  volumes,  as  prepared  for  the  press. 

t  Who  informed  the  editor  that  this  MS.  had  been  purchased 
in  a  library  of  old  books,  which  was  thought  to  have  belonged  to 
Thomas  Blount,  Author  of  the  Jocular  Tenures,  1679,  4to.  and  of 
many  other  publications  enumerated  in  Wood's  Atheiice,  ii.  73 ; 
the  earliest  of  which  is  The  Art  of  making  Devises,  1646,  4to. 
wherein  he  is  described  to  be  "  of  the  Inner  Temple."  If  the  col- 
lection was  made  by  this  lawyer  (who  also  published  the  Law 
Dictionary,  167 1,  folio),  it  should  seem,  from  the  errors  and 
defects  with  which  the  MS.  abounds,  that  he  had  employed  his 
clerk  in  writing  the  transcripts,  who  was  often  weary  of  his  task. 


PREFACE.  13 

cester  College,  contributed  some  curious  pieces  from 
the  Oxford  libraries.  Two  inorenious  and  learned 
friends  at  Cambridge  deserve  the  editor's  warmest 
acknowledgements  :  to  Mr.  Blakeway,  late  fellow  of 
Magdalen  College,  he  owes  all  the  assistance  received 
from  the  Pepysian  library  :  and  Mr.  Farmer,  fellow 
of  Emanuel,  often  exerted,  in  favour  of  this  little 
work,  that  extensive  knowledge  of  ancient  English 
literature  for  which  he  is  so  distinguished.*  Many 
extracts  from  ancient  MSS.  in  the  British  Museum, 
and  other  repositories,  were  owing  to  the  kind  ser- 

*  To  the  same  learned  and  ingenious  friend,  since  Master  of 
Emanuel  College,  the  editor  is  obliged  for  many  con-ections 
and  improvements  in  his  second  and  subsequent  editions ;  as  also 
to  the  Rev.  Mr.  Eowle,  of  Idmistone,  near  Salisbury,  editor  of  the 
curious  edition  of  Don  Quixote,  \vith  Annotations  in  Spanish,  in 
6  vols.  4to. ;  to  the  Rev.  Mr.  Cole,  formerly  of  Blecheley,  near 
Fenny-Stratford,  Bucks ;  to  the  Rev.  Mr.  Lambe,  of  Noreham,  in 
Northumberland  (author  of  a  learned  History  of  Chess,  1764,  8vo. 
and  editor  of  a  curious  Foetn  on  the  Battle  of  Flodden  Field,  with 
learned  Notes,  1774,  8vo.) ;  and  to  G.  Paton,  Esq.,  of  Edinburgh. 
He  is  particularly  indebted  to  two  friends,  to  whom  the  public  as 
well  as  himself,  are  under  the  greatest  obligations ;  to  the  Hon- 
ourable Daines  Barrington,  for  his  very  learned  and  curious  Obser- 
vations on  the  Statutes,  4to. ;  and  to  Thomas  Tynvhitt,  Esq.,  whose 
most  correct  and  elegant  edition  of  Chaucer's  Canterbury  Tales, 
5  vols.  8vo.  is  a  standard  book,  and  shows  how  an  ancient  English 
classic  should  be  published.  The  editor  was  also  favoured  witli 
many  valuable  remarks  and  corrections  from  the  Rev.  Geo.  Ashl)y, 
late  fellow  of  St.  John's  College,  in  Cambridge,  which  are  not 
particularly  pointed  out  because  they  occur  so  often.  He  was  no 
less  obliged  to  Thomas  Butler,  Esq.,  F.A.S.,  agent  to  the  Duke  of 
Northumberland,  and  Clerk  of  the  Peace  for  the  County  of 
Middlesex,  whose  extensive  knowledge  of  ancient  writings,  re- 
cords, and  history,  have  been  of  great  use  to  the  editor  in  his 
attempts  to  illustrate  the  literature  or  manners  of  our  ancestors. 
Some  valuable  remarks  were  procured  by  Samuel  Pegge,  Esq., 
author  of  that  curious  work  the  Curialia,  4to. ;  but  this  impression 
was  too  far  advanced  to  profit  by  them  all ;  which  hath  also  been 
the  case  with  a  series  of  learned  and  ingenious  annotations  inserted 
in  the  Gefitlcman's  Magazine  for  August,  1793,  April,  June,  July, 
and  October,  1794,  and  which,  it  is  hoped,  will  be  continued. 


14  PREFACE. 

vices  of  Thomas  Astle,  Esq.,  to  whom  the  public  is 
indebted  for  the  curious  Preface  and  Index  annexed 
to  the  Harleyan  Catalogue.*  The  worthy  Librarian 
of  the  Society  of  Antiquaries,  Mr.  Norris,  deserved 
acknowledgement  for  the  obliging  manner  in  which 
he  gave  the  editor  access  to  the  volumes  under  his 
care.  In  Mr.  Garrick's  curious  collection  of  old  plays 
are  many  scarce  pieces  of  ancient  poetry,  with  the 
free  use  of  which  he  indulged  the  editor  in  the 
politest  manner.  To  the  Rev.  Dr.  Birch  he  is  in- 
debted for  the  use  of  several  ancient  and  valuable 
tracts.  To  the  friendship  of  Dr.  Samuel  Johnson  he 
owes  many  valuable  hints  for  the  conduct  of  the  work. 
And,  if  the  Glossaries  are  more  exact  and  curious 
than  might  be  expected  in  so  slight  a  publication,  it 
is  to  be  ascribed  to  the  supervisal  of  a  friend,  who 
stands  at  this  time  the  first  in  the  world  for  northern 
literature,  and  whose  learning  is  better  known  and 
respected  in  foreign  nations  than  in  his  own  country. 
It  is,  perhaps,  needless  to  name  the  Rev.  Mr.  Lye, 
editor  of  Jwiiuss  Etymologicwn,  and  of  the  Gothic 
Gospels. 

The  names  of  so  many  men  of  learning  and  char- 
acter the  editor  hopes  will  serve  as  an  amulet  to 
guard  him  from  every  unfavourable  censure,  for 
having  bestowed  any  attention  on  a  parcel  of  old 
ballads.  It  was  at  the  request  of  many  of  these 
gentlemen,  and  of  others  eminent  for  their  genius 
and  taste,  that  this  little  work  was  undertaken.  To 
prepare  it  for  the  press  has  been  the  amusement  of 
now  and  then  a  vacant  hour  amid  the  leisure  and  re- 
tirement of  rural  life,  and  hath  only  served  as  a  re- 
laxation from  graver  studies.  It  has  been  taken  up 
at  different  times,  and  often  thrown  aside  for  many 
months,  during  an  interval  of  four  or  five  years.   This 

*  Since  Keeper  of  the  Records  in  the  Tower. 


PRE  FA  CE. 


15 


has  occasioned  some  inconsistencies  and  repetitions, 
which  the  candid  reader  will  pardon.  As  great  care 
has  been  taken  to  admit  nothing  immoral  and  in- 
decent, the  editor  hopes  he  need  not  be  ashamed  of 
havine  bestowed  some  of  his  idle  hours  on  the 
ancient  literature  of  our  own  country,  or  in  rescuing- 
from  oblivion  some  pieces  (though  but  the  amuse- 
ments of  our  ancestors)  which  tend  to  place  in  a 
striking  light  their  taste,  genius,  sentiments,  or  man- 
ners. 

Except  in  one  paragraph,  this  Preface  is  given  with  little  varia- 
tion from  the  first  edition  in  MDCCLXV. 


I 


RELIOUES  OF  ANCIENT   POETRY,  ETC. 


SERIES  THE  FIRST. 


BOOK  I. 


I  never  heard  the  olde  song  of  Percy  and  Duglas,  that  I 
found  not  my  heart  mooved  more  then  with  a  trumpet : 
and  yet  is  it  sung  but  by  some  bHnde  crouder,  with 
no  rougher  voyce,  then  rude  stile ;  which  being  so  evill 
apparelled  in  the  dust  and  cobwebbes  of  that  uncivill  age, 
what  would  it  worke,  trymmed  in  the  gorgeous  eloquence 
of  Pindar  I — Sir  PJiilip  Sidney's  Apologie for  Poetrie,  1595. 


I. 


THE  ANCIENT  BALLAD  OF  CHEVY 

CHASE. 


HE  fine  heroic  song  of  C/iay-C/iasc  has  ever  been 
admired  by  competent  judges.  Those  genuine  strokes 
of  nature  and  artless  passion,  which  have  endeared  it 
to  the  most  simple  readers,  have  recommended  it  to 
the  most  refined ;  and  it  has  equally  been  the  amusement  of  our 
childhood,  and  the  favourite  of  our  riper  years. 

iSIr.  Addison  has  given  an  excellent  critique*  on  this  very 
popular  ballad,  but  is  mistaken  with  regard  to  the  antiquity  of 
the  common-received  copy;  for  this,  if  one  may  judge  from  the 
style,  cannot  be  older  than  the  time  of  Ehzabeth,  and  was  probably 
written  after  the  elogium  of  Sir  Philip  Sidney :  perhaps  in  conse- 
quence of  it.  I  flatter  myself,  I  have  here  recovered  the  genuine 
antique  poem ;  the  true  original  song,  which  appeared  rude  even 
in  the  time  of  Sir  Philip,  and  caused  him  to  lament,  that  it  was 
so  evil-apparelled  in  the  nigged  garb  of  antiquity. 

This  curiosity  is  printed,  from  an  old  manuscript,!  at  the  end  of 
Heame's  preface  to  Gul.  Newbrigiensis  Hist.  1719,  8vo.  vol.  i. 
To  the  MS.  copy  is  subjoined  the  name  of  the  author,  Rychard 
Sheale;!  whom  Hearne  had  so  little  judgement  as  to  supjiose  to 
Le  the  same  with  a  R.  Sheale,  who  was  living  in  158S.  But 
whoever  examines  the  gradation  of  language  and  idiom  in  the 
following  volumes,  will  be  convinced  that  this  is  the  production 


•  Spectator,  Nos.  70,  74. 

t  [MS.  Ashmole,  48,  in  the  Bodleian  Library.  The  Rev.  W.  W. 
Skeat  has  printed  the  ballad  from  the  MS.  in  his  Specimens 
of  Eu^lisli  Literature,  1394-1579.  Clarendon  Press  Series,  187!.] 

\  Subscribed,  after  the  usual  manner  of  our  old  poets,  expliceth 
(explicit)  quoth  Rychard  Sheale. 


20  ANCIENT   BALLAD 

of  an  earlier  poet.  It  is  indeed  expressly  mentioned  among  some 
very  ancient  songs  in  an  old  book  intituled,  The  Complaint  of  Scot- 
land* (fol.  42),  under  the  tide  of  the  Hiintis  of  Chevet,  where 
the  two  following  lines  are  also  quoted: — 

"  The  Perssee  and  the  Mongumrye  mette,  f 
That  day,  that  day,  that  gentil  day  : "  | 

which,  tho'  not  quite  the  same  as  they  stand  in  the  ballad,  yet 
difter  not  more  than  might  be  owing  to  the  author's  quoting  from 
memory.  Indeed  whoever  considers  the  style  and  orthography  of 
this  old  poem  will  not  be  inclined  to  place  it  lower  than  the  time 
of  Henry  VI. :  as  on  the  other  hand  the  mention  of  James  the 
Scottish  King,  §  with  one  or  two  anachronisms,  forbids  us  to 
assign  it  an  earlier  date.  King  James  I.  who  was  prisoner  in  this 
kingdom  at  the  death  of  his  father,  ||  did  not  wear  the  crown  of 
Scotland  till  the  second  year  of  our  Henry  VI. ,11  but  before  the 
end  of  that  long  reign  a  third  James  had  mounted  the  throne.** 
A  succession  of  two  or  three  Jameses,  and  the  long  detention  of 
one  of  them  in  England,  would  render  the  name  familiar  to  the 
Enghsh,  and  dispose  a  poet  in  those  rude  times  to  give  it  to  any 
Scottish  king  he  happened  to  mention. 

So  much  for  the  date  of  this  old  ballad  :  with  regard  to  its  sub- 
ject, altho'  it  has  no  countenance  from  history,  there  is  room  to 
think  it  had  originally  some  foundation  in  fact.  It  was  one  of  the 
Laws  of  the  Marches  frequently  renewed  between  the  two  nations, 
that  neither  party  should  hunt  in  the  other's  borders,  without  leave 
from  the  proprietors  or  their  deputies. ft     There  had  long  been  a 

*  One  of  the  earliest  productions  of  the  Scottish  press,  now  to 
be  found.  The  title-page  was  wanting  in  the  copy  here  quoted ; 
but  it  is  supposed  to  have  been  printed  in  1540.  See  Ames.  [It 
is  now  believed  to  have  been  printed  in  1549.  See  the  new 
edition  by  J.  A.  H.  Murray,  printed  for  the  Early  English  Text 
Society  (Extra  Series),  1872.] 

t  See  Pt.  ii.  v.  25.  J  See  Pt.  i.  v.  99. 

§  Pt.  ii.  V.  36,  140. 

11  Who  died  Aug.  5,  1406,  in  the  7th  year  of  our  Hen.  IV. 

H  James  I.  was  crowned  May  22,   1424;   murdered  Feb.  21, 

1436-7- 

**  In  1460.— Hen.  VI.  was  deposed  1461  :  restored  and  slain 
1471. 

tj-  Item.  .  .  .  Concordatum  est,  quod,  .  .  .  nullus  unius  partis 
vel  alterius  ingrediatur  terras,  boschas,  forrestas,  warrenas,  loca, 
dominia  quacunque  alicujus  partis  alterius  subditi,  causa  venandi, 
piscandi,  aucupandi,  disportum  aut  solatium  in  eisdem,  aliave 
quacunque  d©  causa,  absque  licentia  ejus  ...  ad  quem  .  .  .  loca 


OF    CHEVY    CHASE.  21 

rivalship  between  the  two  martial  families  of  Percy  and  Douglas, 
which  heightened  by  the  national  quarrel,  must  have  produced 
frequent  challenges  and  struggles  for  superiority,  petty  invasions 
of  their  respective  domains,  and  sharp  contests  for  the  point  of 
honour ;  which  would  not  always  be  recorded  in  history.  Some- 
thing of  this  kind,  we  may  suppose,  gave  rise  to  the  ancient  ballad 
of  the  Hunting  a!  the  C/ia'iat*  Percy  earl  of  Northumberland 
had  vowed  to  hunt  for  three  days  in  the  Scottish  border  without 
condescending  to  ask  leave  from  earl  Douglas,  who  was  either  lord 
of  the  soil,  or  lord  warden  of  the  marches.  Douglas  would  not 
fail  to  resent  the  insult,  and  endeavour  to  repel  the  intruders  by 
force ;  this  would  naturally  produce  a  sharp  conflict  between  the 
two  parties :  something  of  which,  it  is  probable,  did  really  happen, 
tho'.not  attended  with  the  tragical  circumstances  recorded  in  the 
ballad  :  for  th^se  are  CAidently  borrowed  from  the  Battle  of  Otter- 
l>ourn,-\  a  very  different  event,  but  ^^■hich  aftertimes  would  easily 
confound  with  it.  That  battle  might  be  owing  to  some  such  pre- 
vious affront  as  this  of  Chevy  Chase,  though  it  has  escaped  the 
notice  of  historians.  Our  poet  has  evidently  jumbled  the  two  sub- 
jects together  :  if  indeed  the  lines.]:  in  which  this  mistake  is  made, 
are  not  rather  spurious,  and  the  after-insertion  of  some  person, 
who  did  not  distinguish  between  the  two  stories. 

Hearne  has  printed  this  ballad  without  any  division  of  stanzas, 
in  long  lines,  as  he  found  it  in  the  old  written  copy ;  but  it  is  usual 
to  find  the  distinction  of  stanzas  neglected  in  ancient  MSS. ;  where, 
to  save  room,  two  or  three  verses  are  frequently  given  in  one  line 
undivided.  See  flagrant  instances  in  the  Harleian  Catalogue,  No. 
2253,  s.  29,  34,  61,  70,  et passim. 

[Bishop  Percy  did  well  to  open  his  book  with  C/iay  Chase 
and  the  Battle  of  Otterburn,  as  these  two  are  by  far  the  most 
remarkable  of  the  old  historical  ballads  still  left  to  us,  and  all 
Englishmen  must  feel  peculiar  interest  in  CJievy  Chase,  as  it  is 
one  of  the  few  northern  ballads  that  are  the  exclusive  growth  of 
the  south  side  of  the  Border.  The  partizanship  of  the  Englishman 
is  very  amusingly  brought  out  in  verses  145-154,  where  we  learn 
that  the  Scotch  king  had  no  captain  in  his  realm  equal  to  the  dead 
Douglas,  but  that  the  English  king  had  a  hundred  captains  as  good 
as  Percy.  A  ballad  which  stirred  the  soul  of  Sidney  and  caused 
Ben  Jonson  to  wish  that  he  had  been  the  author  of  it  rather  than 

.  .  .  pertinent,  aut  de  deputatis  suis  prius  capt.  et  obtent.  Vid. 
Bp.  Nicolson's  Leges  Marchianini,  1705,  8vo.  pp.  27,  51. 

*  This  was  the  original  title.  See  the  ballad,  Pt.  i.  v.  101  ; 
Pt.  ii.  V.  165. 

t  Sec  the  next  ballad.  \  Vid.  Pt.  ii.  v.  167. 


22  ANCIENT   BALLAD 

of  all  his  own  works  cannot  but  be  dear  to  all  readers  of  taste  and 
feeling.  The  old  version  is  so  far  superior  to  the  modern  one 
(see  Book  iii.  No.  i)  that  it  must  ever  be  a  source  of  regret  that 
Addison,  who  elegantly  analyzed  the  modern  version,  did  not  know 
of  the  original. 

It  will  be  well  to  arrange  under  three  heads  the  subjects  on 
which  a  few  words  require  to  be  added  to  Percy's  preface,  viz. 
I.  the  title,  2.  the  occasion,  3.  the  author,  i.  In  the  old  version 
the  title  given  in  the  ballad  itself  is  the  hunting  of  the  Cheznat,  and 
in  the  Complaynt  of  Scotlande  it  is  referred  to  as  The  Huntis  of 
Chevot.  The  title  of  the  modern  version  is  changed  to  Chevy 
Chase,  which  Dr.  E.  B.  Nicholson  has  suggested  to  be  derived 
from  the  old  French  word  chevauchee,  a  foray  or  expedition  (see 
Notes  and  Queries,  3rd  series,  vol.  xii.  p.  124) ;  but  this  explanation 
is  not  needed,  as  the  original  of  the  modern  title  is  found  in  ver.  62 
as  Chyviat  Chays,  which  naturally  became  contracted  into  Chevy 
Chase,  a.^ ^Teviotdale  vaXo  Tevidale  (ver.  50). 

2.  The  ballad  is  so  completely  unliistorical  that  it  is  difficult  to 
give  any  opinion  as  to  the  occasion  to  which  it  refers,  but  appa- 
rently it  was  written,  as  Bishop  Percy  remarks,  to  commemorate  a 
defiant  expedition  of  one  of  the  Lords  of  the  Marches  upon  the 
domain  of  another,  but  that  the  names  of  Percy  and  Douglas  led 
the  writer  into  a  confusion  with  the  battle  of  Otterburn,  which 
was  fresh  in  the  people's  memory  owing  to  the  ballad  of  the  Battle 
of  Otterburn.  In  fact  Professor  Child  throws  out  the  hint  that 
possibly  Sidney  referred  to  the  Battle  of  Otterburn  and  not  to  the 
Hunting  of  the  Cheviat,  as  he  only  mentions  the  old  song  of  Percie 
and  Douglas,  but  it  has  so  long  been  believed  that  Sidney  spoke 
of  Chevy  Chase  that  we  should  be  sorry  to  think  otherwise  now. 
In  the  note  immediately  following  the  modern  version  (see  Book 
iii.  No.  I.)  Bishop  Percy  suggests  the  possibility  that  the  ballad 
may  refer  to  the  battle  of  Pepperden  fought  in  1436,  but  this  view 
is  highly  improbable  for  the  following  reason.  In  both  the  ancient 
and  modern  versions  the  battle  of  Humbledown  is  alluded  to  as  a 
future  event  caused  by  the  death  of  Percy  at  Chevy  Chase.  Now  as 
Humbledown  was  fought  in  the  year  1402,  and  as  the  battle  of 
Otterburn  was  the  only  conflict  of  importance  on  the  Borders 
which  preceded  it,  and  as,  moreover,  Otterburn  is  mentioned  in  the 
ballad,  there  cannot  well  be  any  reference  to  a  battle  fought  so 
many  years  afterwards. 

3.  Bishop  Percy  is  unnecessarily  severe  in  his  remark  upon 
Heame,  as  that  learned  antiquary  was  probably  correct  in  identi- 
fying the  Richard  Sheale  of  the  old  ballad  with  Richard  Sheale 
the  minstrel.  Whether,  however,  the  latter  was  the  author,  as 
is  argued  by  C.  in  Brydges'  British  Bibliographer  (vol.  4,  pp.  95- 
105),  is  another  matter.     The  other  examples  of  the  minstrel's 


OF    CHEVY    CHASE.  23 

muse  are  so  inferior  to  this  ballad  that  it  is  impossible  to  believe 
him  to  be  the  author.  Doubtless  it  was  recited  by  him,  and  being 
associated  with  his  name  the  transcriber  may  naturally  have  sup- 
posed him  to  be  its  maker.  Sheale  really  flourished  (or  withered, 
as  j\Ir.  Hales  has  it)  at  a  rather  earher  period  than  the  date  1588 
mentioned  by  Percy  would  lead  us  to  imagine,  for  he  appears  to 
have  been  writing  before  1560,  nevertheless  the  language  is  of  a 
much  earlier  date  than  this,  and,  moreover,  a  ballad  of  the  Borders 
is  not  likely  to  have  been  invented  at  Tamworth,  where  Sheale  lived. 
Chexy  Chase  was  long  a  highly  popular  song,  and  Bishop 
Corbet,  in  his  Journey  into  Franee,  speaks  of  having  sung  it  in  his 
youth.  The  antiquated  beau  in  Davenant's  play  of  the  Wits 
also  prides  himself  on  being  able  to  sing  it,  and  in  IVifs  Inter- 
preter, 167 1,  a  man  when  enumerating  the  good  qualities  of  his 
wife,  cites  after  the  beauties  of  her  mind  and  her  patience  "  her 
curious  voice  wherewith  she  useth  to  sing  C/iay  C/iace."  Many 
other  ballads  were  sung  to  the  same  tune,  so  that  we  are  not 
always  sure  as  to  whether  the  original  is  referred  to  or  some  more 
modem  song.  The  philosopher  Locke,  when  Secretary  to  the 
Embassy  sent  by  Charles  II.  to  the  Elector  of  Brandenburg,  wrote 
home  a  description  of  the  Brandenburg  church  singing,  in  which 
he  says,  "  He  that  could  not  though  he  had  a  cold  make  better 
music  with  a  chevy  chace  over  a  pot  of  smooth  ale,  deserved  well 
to  pay  the  reckoning  and  to  go  away  athirst."  *  The  wTiter  here 
probably  referred  to  any  song  sung  to  this  tune.] 


THE  FIRST  FIT.t 

^^^■^^^^HE  Pers6  owt  of  Northombarlande. 

And  a  vowe^  to  God  mayd  he, 
That  he  wolde  hunte  in  the  mountayns 

Off  Chyviat  within  dayes  thre, 
In  the  mauger"^  of  doughte  Dogles, 

And  all  that  ever  with  him  be. 


Ver.  5,  niagger  in  Hearne's  PC  [Printed  Copy.] 

♦  fChappell's  Popular  Music  of  the  Olden  Time,  vol.  i.  p.  198  ; 
vol.  ii.  p.  774. J 
t  Fit.  see  ver.  100. 

[1  should  bu  "  an  avowe,"  a  vow  (see  v.  157,  Fit.  2).       -  in  spite  of.] 


24  ANCIENT   BALLAD 

The  fattiste  hartes  in  all  Cheviat 

He  sayd  he  wold  kill,  and  cary  them  away  : 
Be  my  feth,  sayd  the  dougheti  Doglas  agayn, 

I  wyll  let^  that  hontyng  yf  that  I  may.  lo 

Then  the  Perse  owt  of  Banborowe  cam, 

With  him  a  myghtye  meany  ;^ 
With  fifteen  hondrith  archares  bold  ; 

The  wear  chosen  out  of  shyars  thre.* 

This  begane  on  a  monday  at  morn  15 

In  Cheviat  the  hillys  so  he  ;^ 
The  chyld  may  rue  that  ys  un-born. 

It  was  the  mor  pitte. 

The  dryvars  thorowe  the  woodes  went 

For  to  reas'*  the  dear  ;  20 

Bomen  bickarte  uppone  the  bent^ 
With  ther  browd  aras^  cleare. 

Then  the  wyld^  thorowe  the  woodes  went 

On  every  syde  shear  f 
Grea-hondes  thorowe  the  greves  glent"  25 

For  to  kyll  thear  dear. 


The  begane  in  Chyviat  the  hyls  abone^" 
Yerly^^  on  a  monnyn-day  ;^^ 

Ver.  II.  The  the  Perse.  PC.  V.  13.  archardes  bolde  off  blood 
and  bone.  PC.     V.  19.  throrowe.  PC. 

*  By  these  '"'■shyars  thre"  is  probably  meant  three  districts  in 
Northumberland,  which  still  go  by  the  name  of  shires^  and  are  all 
in  the  neighbourhood  of  Cheviot.  These  are  Island-shire,  being 
the  district  so  named  from  Holy-Island :  JVorehamshire,  so  called 
from  the  town  and  castle  of  Noreham  (or  Norham)  :  and  Pam- 
boroughshire,  the  ward  or  hundred  belonging  to  Bamborough 
castle  and  town. 

[^  hinder.  2  company.  ^  high.        "*  rouse. 

'  bowmen  skirmished  in  the  long  grass.  ^  broad  arrows. 

^  wild  deer.         ^  entirely.  ^  the  bushes  glanced. 

'"  above.  ^^  early.  12  Monday.] 


OF    CHEVY   CHASE.  25 

Be'  that  it  drewe  to  the  oware  off  none'^ 

A  hondrith  fat  hartes  ded  ther  lay.  30 

The  blewe  a  mort  uppone  the  bent, ' 

The  semblyd  on  sydis  shear  ;  ^ 
To  the  quyrry^^  then  the  Perse  went 

To  se  the  bryttlynge^  off  the  deare. 

He  sayd,  It  was  the  Duglas  promys  35 

This  day  to  meet  me  hear ; 
But  I  wyste  he  wold  faylle  verament  'J 

A  gret  oth  the  Perse  swear. 

At  the  laste  a  squyar  of  Northombelonde 

Lokyde  at  his  hand  full  ny,  40 

He  was  war  ath*^  the  douQfhetie  Doo^las  comvnire  : 
With  him  a  myghte  meany, 

Both  with  spear,  *  byll,'  and  brande  :'-^ 

Yt  was  a  myghti  sight  to  se. 
Hardyar  men  both  off  hart  nar  hande  45 

Wear  not  in  Christiante. 

The  wear  twenty  hondrith  spear-men  good 

Withouten  any  fayle ; 
The  wear  borne  a-long  be  the  watter  a  Twyde, 

Yth '"  bowndes  of  Tividale.  so 

Leave  off  the  brytlyng  of  the  dear,  he  sayde, 
And  to  your  bowys  look  ye  tayk  good  heed  ; 

For  never  sithe^'  ye  wear  on  your  mothars  borne 
Had  ye  never  so  mickle  need. 

Ver.   31.    blwe  a  mot.    PC.     V.   42.    niyglittc.   PC.    passim. 

V.  43.  brylly.  PC.    V.  48.  withowte feale.  PC.    V.  52.  boys. 

PC.    V.  54.  ned.  PC. 

[ '  by.  2  hour  of  noon. 

^  they  blew  a  note  over  the  dead  stag  on  the  grass. 
*  on  all  sides.         •''  slaughtered  game.         ''  quartering. 
'  truly.  "  aware  of.  '-^  battle  axe  and  sword. 

'"  in  the.  "  since,  j 


26  ANCIENT   BALLAD 

The  dougheti  Dogglas  on  a  stede  55 

He  rode  all  his  men  beforne ; 
His  armor  glytteryde  as  dyd  a  glede  ;^ 

A  bolder  barne"'*  was  never  born. 

Tell  me  '  what '  men  ye  ar,  he  says, 

Or  whos  men  that  ye  be  :  60 

Who  gave  youe  leave  to  hunte  in  this 

Chyviat  chays  in  the  spyt  of  me  ? 

The  first  mane  that  ever  him  an  answear  mayd, 

Yt  was  the  good  lord  Perse  : 
We  wyll  not  tell  the  *  what '  men  we  ar,  he  says,      65 

Nor  whos  men  that  we  be ; 
But  we  wyll  hount  hear  in  this  chays 

In  the  spyte  of  thyne,  and  of  the. 

The  fattiste  hartes  in  all  Chyviat 

We  have  kyld,  and  cast^  to  carry  them  a- way.      70 
Be  my  troth,  sayd  the  doughte  Dogglas  agayn, 

Ther-for  the  ton^  of  us  shall  de  this  day. 

Then  sayd  the  doughte  Doglas 

Unto  the  lord  Perse  : 
To  kyll  all  thes  giltless  men,  7S 

A-las  !  it  wear  great  pitte. 

But,  Perse,  thowe  art  a  lord  of  lande, 
I  am  a  yerle^  callyd  within  my  contre ; 

Let  all  our  men  uppone  a  parti  ^  stande  ; 

And  do  the  battell  off  the  and  of  me.  80 

Nowe  Cristes  cors^  on  his  crowne,^sayd  the  lord  Perse. 
Who-soever  ther-to  says  nay. 


[Ver.  56.  Percy  and  Hearne  print,  "att  his  men."J  Ver.  59. 
whos.  PC.  V.  65.  whoys.  PC.  V.  71.  agay.  PC.  V.  81.  sayd 
the  the.   PC. 

[^  glowing  coal.      ^  man.      ^  niean,      ^  the  one  of  us  shall  die. 
*  earl.  ^  apart  or  aside.         '  curse.  ^  head.] 


OF    CHEVY    CHASE.  27 

Be  my  troth,  doughtc  Doglas,  he  says, 
Thow  shalt  never  se  that  day ; 

Nethar  in  Ynglonde,  Skottlonde,  nar  France,  85 

Nor  for  no  man  of  a  woman  born, 
But  and^  fortune  be  my  chance, 

I  dar  met  him  on  man  for  on.^ 

Then  bespayke  a  squyar  off  Northombarlonde, 
Ric.  Wytharynton*  was  his  nam ;  90 

It  shall  never  be  told  in  Sothe-Ynglonde,  he  says. 
To  kyng  Herry  the  fourth  for  sham. 

I  wat^  youe  byn  great  lordes  twaw,* 

I  am  a  poor  squyar  of  lande  ; 
I  wyll  never  se  my  captayne  fyght  on  a  fylde,  9s 

And  stande  my-selffe,  and  looke  on, 
But  whyll  I  may  my  weppone  welde, 

I  wyll  not  '  fayl '  both  harte  and  hande. 

That  day,  that  day,  that  dredfull  day  : 

The  first  Fitf  here  I  fynde.  100 

And  youe°  wyll  here  any  mor  athe  hountyng  a  the 

Yet  ys  ther  mor  behynde.  [Chyviat, 


Ver.  88.  on  i.e.  one. 

*  This  is  probably  corrupted  in  the  MS.  for  Ro:^.  Widdruighm, 
who  was  at  the  head  of  the  family  in  the  reign  of  K.  Edw.  III. 
There  were  several  successively  of  the  names  of  Roi::,cr  and  Ralph, 
but  none  of  the  name  of  Richard^  as  appears  from  the  genealogies 
in  the  Heralds'  office. 

t  Fit. 

[1  l)ut  if.  2  one  man  for  one.  ^  for  wot,  know. 

■•  two.  ^  if  you.J 


28  ANCIENT   BALLAD 


THE  SECOND  FIT. 

I^HE  Yngglishe  men  hade  ther  bowys  yebent, 
^^       Ther  hartes  were  good  yenoughe  ; 
The  first  of  arros  that  the  shote  off, 
Seven  skore  spear-men  the  sloughe.^ 

Yet  bydys^  the  yerle  Doglas  uppon  the  bent,  5 

A  captayne  good  yenoughe, 
And  that  was  sene  verament. 

For  he  wrought  hom  both  woo  and  wouche."' 

The  Dogglas  pertyd  his  ost  in  thre, 

Lyk  a  cheffe  cheften  off  pryde,  10 

With  suar^  speares  off  myghtte  tre 

The  cum^  in  on  every  syde. 

Thrughe  our  YnggHshe  archery 

Gave  many  a  wounde  full  wyde  ; 
Many  a  doughete  the  garde  to  dy,^  15 

Which  ganyde  them  no  pryde. 

The  Yngglishe  men  let  thear  bowys  be, 
And  pulde  owt  brandes  that  wer  bright ; 

It  was  a  hevy  syght  to  se 

Bryght  swordes  on  basnites^  tyght.  20 

Thorowe  ryche  male,  and  myne-ye-ple^ 
Many  sterne^  the  stroke  downe  streght : 

Ver.  3.  first,  z>./zV/2/.     V.  5.  byddys.    PC.     V.  17.  boys.    PC. 
V.   18.  briggt.    PC.     V.  21.  throrowe.  PC.     V.  22.  done.  PC. 

[*  slew.         2  abides.  ^  mischief,  wrong.         *  sure. 

5  they  come.  ^  many  a  doughty  one  they  made  to  die. 

'  helmets. 

^  Mr.  Skeat  suggests  that  this  is  a  corruption  for  manople,  a 
large  gauntlet. 

'^  many  fierce  ones  they  struck  down.] 


6 


OF   CHEVY    CHASE.  29 

Many  a  fre^ke/  that  was  full  free, 
Ther  undar  foot  dyd  lyght. 

At  last  the  Duglas  and  the  Perse  met,  25 

Lyk  to  capta)'ns  of  myght  and  mayne  ; 

The  swapte""^  togethar  tyll  the  both  swat" 
With  swordes,  that  w^ear  of  fyn  myllan.^ 

Thes  worthe  freckys^  for  to  fyght 

Ther-to  the  wear  full  fayne, 
Tyll  the  bloode  owte  off  thear  basnetes  sprente. 

As  ever  dyd  heal  or  rayne. 

Holde  the,  Perse,  sayd  the  Doglas, 

And  i'  feth  I  shall  the  brynge 
Wher  thowe  shake  have  a  yerls  wagis  35 

Of  J  amy  our  Scottish  kynge. 

Thoue  shake  have  thy  ransom  fre,  * 

I  hight^  the  hear  this  thinge, 
For  the  manfully ste  man  yet  art  thowe. 

That  ever  I  conqueryd  in  filde  fightyng.  40 

Nay  '  then'  sayd  the  lord  Perse, 

I  tolde  it  the  beforne, 
That  I  wolde  never  yeldyde  be 

To  no  man  of  a  woman  born. 

With  that  ther  cam  an  arrowe  hastely  45 

Forthe  off  a  mightie  wane,* 
Hit  hathc  strekene  the  yerle  Duglas 

In  at  the  brcst  bane. 


Ver.  26.  to,  i.e.  two.      Ibid,  and  of.  PC.      V.   32.   ran.   J^C. 
V.  33.  helde.  PC. 

*  JVa;ie,  i.e.  a//e,  one,  &c.  man,  an  arrow  came  from  a  mighty 
one  :  from  a  mighty  man.    [misreading  for  ma;ie  (?)  see  v.  63,  fit.  i .  | 

['  strongman.         ^  exchanged  blows.  ^  did  sweat. 

*  Milan  steel.         '''  men.         *^  spurted  out.         ''  promise.) 


30  ANCIENT   BALLAD 

Thoroue  lyvar  and  longs  bathe 

The  sharp  arrowe  ys  gane,  so 

That  never  after  in  all  his  lyffe  days, 

He  spayke  mo  wordes  but  ane, 
That  was,*  Fyghte  ye,  my  merry  men,  whyllys  ye  may. 

For  my  lyff  days  ben  gan. 

The  Perse  leanyde  on  his  brande,  5S 

And  sawe  the  Duglas  de  ; 
He  tooke  the  dede  man  be  the  hande, 

And  sayd,  Wo  ys  me  for  the  ! 

To  have  savyde  thy  lyffe  I  wold  have  pertyd  with 
My  landes  for  years  thre,  60 

For  a  better  man  of  hart,  nare  of  hande 
Was  not  in  all  the  north  countre. 

Off  all  that  se  a  Skottishe  knyght. 

Was  callyd  Sir  Hewe  the  Mongon-byrry, 

He  sawe  the  Duglas  to  the  deth  was  dyght' ;  65 

He  spendyd^  a  spear  a  trusti  tre  : 

He  rod  uppon  a  corsiare^ 

Throughe  a  hondrith  archery  ; 
He  never  styntyde,  nar  never  blane,* 

Tyll  he  came  to  the  good  lord  Perse.  70 

He  set  uppone  the  lord  Perse 

A  dynte,^  that  was  full  soare  ; 
With  a  suar  spear  of  a  myghte  tre 

Clean  thorow  the  body  he  the  Perse  bore, 


Ver.  49.  throroue.  PC.     V.  74.  ber.  PC. 
*  This  seems  to  have  been  a  Gloss  added. 


['  put.  2  grasped.  ^  course 

■'  he  never  lingered  nor  stopped.  ^  blow.] 


OF    CHEVY    CHASE.  31 

A  the  tothar  syde,  that  a  man  myght  se,  75 

A  large  cloth  yard  and  mare  : 
Towe  bettar  captayns  wear  nat  in  Christiante, 

Then  that  day  slain  wear  then 

An  archar  off  Northomberlonde 

Say  slean  was  the  lord  Perse,  So 

He  bar  a  bende-bow  in  his  hande, 

Was  made  off  trusti  tre  : 

An  arow,  that  a  cloth  yarde  was  lang, 

To  th'  hard  stele  halyde  he  ; 
A  dynt,  that  was  both  sad  and  soar,  85 

He  sat  on  Sir  Hewe  the  Mongon-byrry. 

The  dynt  yt  was  both  sad  and  sar,^ 

That  he  of  Mongon-byrry  sete  ; 
The  swane-fethars,  that  his  arrowe  bar, 

With  his  hart  blood  the  wear  wete.*  90 

Ther  was  never  a  freake  wone  foot  wolde  flc, 

But  still  in  stour'^  dyd  stand, 
Heawyng  on  yche  othar,^  whyll  the  myght  dre,* 

With  many  a  bal-fiil  brande. 

This  battell  begane  in  Chyviat  9S 

An  owar  bcfor  the  none, 
And  when  even-song  bell  was  rang 

The  battell  was  nat  half  done. 

The  tooke  '  on'  on  ethar  hand 

Be  the  lyght  off  the  mone  ;  100 

MQx.ZQ.^^y,i.e.  Sawe.     V.  84.  haylde.  /T.     V.  87.  far.    PC. 

*  This  incident  is  taken  from  the  l)attle  of  Ottcrbourn ;  in 
which  Sir  Hugh  Montgomery,  Knt.  (son  of  John  l,ord  Mont- 
gomery) was  slain  with  an  arrow.     Vid.  CnnvfonVs  Pccnii^c. 

\ '  sore.         -  fight.         ^  hewing  at  each  other.         ''  suffer. J 


^2  ANCIENT  BALLAD 


3 


Many  hade  no  strenght  for  to  stande, 
In  Chyviat  the  hyllys  aboun.^ 

Of  fifteen  hondrith  archars  of  Ynglonde 

Went  away  but  fifti  and  thre  ; 
Of  twenty  hondrith  spear-men  of  Skotlonde,  105 

But  even  five  and  fifti  : 

But  all  wear  slayne  Cheviat  within  : 

The  hade  no  strengthe  to  stand  on  hie  ; 

The  chylde  may  rue  that  ys  un-borne, 

It  was  the  mor  pitte.  no 

Thear  was  slayne  with  the  lord  Pense 

Sir  John  of  Agerstone, 
Sir  Roger  the  hinde'^  Hartly, 

Sir  Wyllyam  the  bolde  Hearone. 

Sir  J  org  the  worthe  Lovele^  115 

A  knyght  of  great  renowen, 
Sir  Raff  the  ryche  Rugbe 

With  dyntes  wear  beaten  dowene. 

For  Wetharryngton  my  harte  was  wo, 

That  ever  he  slayne  shulde  be  ;  120 

For  when  both  his  leggis  wear  hewyne  in  to, 

Yet  he  knyled  and  fought  on  hys  kne. 

Ther  was  slayne  with  the  dougheti  Douglas 

Sir  Hewe  the  Mongon-byrry, 
Sir  Davye  Lwdale,  that  worthe  was,  125 

His  sistars  son  was  he  : 

Sir  Charles  a  Murre,  in  that  place. 
That  never  a  foot  wolde  fie  ; 

Ver.  102.  abou.    FC.     V.  108.  strenge  ....  hy.    J^C.     V.  115. 
loule.  jPC    V.  121.  in  to,  i.e.  in  two.     V.  122.  kny.  FC. 

['  hills  above.  ^  gentle.  ^  ]yij-.  Skeat  reads  Louwbe.] 


OF    CHEVY    CHASE. 


JO 


Sir  Hewe  Maxwell,  a  lorde  he  was, 

With  the  Duglas  dyd  he  dey.  130 

So  on  the  morrowe  the  mayde  them  byears 

Offbyrch,  and  hasell  so  '  gray  ;' 
Many  wedous^  with  wepyng  tears,* 

Cam  to  fach  ther  makys"^  a-way. 

Tivydale  may  carpe"^  off  care,  13s 

Northombarlond  may  mayk  grat  mone, 

For  towe  such  captayns,  as  slayne  wear  thear. 
On  the  march  perti*  shall  never  be  none. 

Word  ys  commen  to  Edden-burrowe, 

To  Jamy  the  Skottishe  kyng,  140 

That  dougheti  Duglas,  lyff-tenant  of  the  Merches, 

He  lay  slean  Chyviot  with-in. 

His  handdes  dyd  he  weaP  and  wryng, 

He  sayd,  Alas,  and  woe  ys  me ! 
Such  another  captayn  Skotland  within,  145 

He  sayd,  y-feth  shuld  never  be. 

Worde  ys  commyn  to  lovly  Londone 
Till^  the  fourth  Harry  our  kyng, 


Ver.  132.  gay.  PC  V.  136.  mon.  PC.  V.  138.  non.  PC 
V.  146.  ye  feth.  PC 

For  the  names  in  this  and  the  foregoing  page,  see  the  Remarks 
at  the  end  of  the  next  ballad. 

*  A  common  pleonasm,  see  the  next  poem,  Fit.  2d.  V.  155  ;  so 
Harding  in  his  Chronicle,  chap.  140,  fol.  148,  describing  the 
death  of  Richard  I.  says, 

"  He  shrove  him  then  unto  Abbots  thre 

With  great  sobbyng  ....  and  wepyng  teares," 

So  likewise  Cavendish  in  his  Life  of  Cardinal  Wolsey,  chap.  12, 
p.  31,  4to. :  "When  the  Duke  heard  this,  he  repHed  with  weeping 
teares,"  (S:c. 

[1  widows.  "^  mates.  '  comi)lain. 

■•  on  the  marches  (see  ver.  173).  *  wail.  *  to,  unlo.J 

D 


34  ANCIENT  BALLAD 

That  lord  Perse,  leyff-tennante  of  the  Merchis, 

He  lay  slayne  Chyviat  within.  150 

God  have  mercl  on  his  soil,  sayd  kyng  Harry, 

Good  lord,  yf  thy  will  it  be  ! 
I  have  a  hondrith  captayns  in  Yynglonde,  he  sayd, 

As  good  as  ever  was  hee  : 
But  Perse,  and  I  brook^  my  lyffe,  155 

Thy  deth  well  quyte'''  shall  be. 

As  our  noble  kyng  made  his  a-vowe, 

Lyke  a  noble  prince  of  renowen, 
For  the  deth  of  the  lord  Perse, 

He  dyd  the  battel  of  Hombyll-down:  160 

Wher  syx  and  thritte  Skottish  knyghtes 

On  a  day  wear  beaten  down  : 
Glendale  glytteryde  on  ther  armor  bryght. 

Over  castill,  towar,  and  town. 

This  was  the  hontynge  off  the  Cheviat ;  165 

That  tear  begane  this  spurn  •? 
Old  men  that  knowen  the  grownde  well  yenoughe, 

Call  it  the  Battell  of  Otterburn. 

At  Otterburn  began  this  spurne 

Uppon  a  monnyn  day  :*  170 

Ther  was  the  dougghte  Doglas  slean. 

The  Perse  never  went  away. 

Ther  was  never  a  tym  on  the  march  partes 

Sen  the  Doglas  and  the  Perse  met. 
But  yt  was  marvele,  and  the  redde  blude  ronne  not, 

As  the  reane  doys  in  the  stret.  176 

Ver.  149.  cheyff  tennante.    PC. 


[^  if  I  enjoy.  2  requited, 

that  tearing  or  pulling  began  this  kick.         ■*  Monday.] 


.3 


OF    CHEVY    CHASE.  35 

Jhesue  Christ  our  balys  bete/ 

And  to  the  blys  us  brynge  ! 
Thus  was  the  hountynge  of  the  Chevyat : 

God  send  us  all  orood  endincj!  180 

o  o 

*#*  The  style  of  this  and  the  following  ballad  is  uncommonly- 
rugged  and  uncouth,  owing  to  their  being  writ  in  the  very  coarsest 
and  broadest  northern  dialect. 

The  battle  of  Hombyll-down,  or  Humbledon,  was  fought 
Sept.  14,  1402  (anno  3  Hen.  IV.),  wherein  the  English,  under  the 
command  of  the  Earl  of  Northumberland  and  his  son  Hotspur, 
gained  a  complete  victory  over  the  Scots.  The  village  of  Hum- 
bledon is  one  mile  northwest  from  Wooler,  in  Northumberland. 
The  battle  was  fought  in  the  field  below  the  village,  near  the 
present  Turnpike  Road,  in  a  spot  called  ever  since  Rcd-Riggs. 
Humbledon  is  in  Glendale  Ward,  a  district  so  named  in  this 
county,  and  mentioned  above  in  ver.  163. 


II. 

THE  BATTLE  OF  OTTERBOURNE. 


_      HE  only  battle  wherein  an  Earl  of  Douglas  was  slain 
,^;y    fighting  with  a  Percy  was  that  of  Otterbourn,  which  is 
P'"^    '^^    ^^^^  subject  of  this  ballad.     It  is  here  related  with  the 
v^kS^^^l    allowable  partiality  of  an  English  poet,  and  much  in 


the  same  manner  as  it  is  recorded  in  the  English  Chronicles. 
The  Scottish  \vriters  have,  with  a  partiality  at  least  as  excusable, 
related  it  no  less  in  their  own  favout.  Luckily  we  have  a  very  cir- 
cumstantial narrative  of  the  whole  affair  from  Froissart,  a  French 
historian,  who  appears  to  be  unbiassed.  Froissart's  relation  is 
prolix ;  I  shall  therefore  give  it,  with  a  few  corrections,  as  abridged 
by  Carte,  who  has,  however,  had  recourse  to  other  authorities, 
and  differs  from  Froissart  in  some  things,  which  I  shall  note  in  the 
margin. 

In  the  twelfth  year  of  Richard  II.,  1388,  "The  Scots  taking 
advantage  of  the  confusions  of  this  nation,  and  falling  with  a  party 
into  the  West-marches,  ravaged  the  country  about  Carlisle,  and 

['  better  our  bales,  or  remedy  our  evils.] 


36  THE    BATTLE 

carried  off  300  prisoners.  It  was  with  a  much  greater  force, 
headed  by  some  of  the  principal  nobility,  that,  in  the  beginning  of 
August,*  they  invaded  Northumberland ;  and,  having  wasted  part 
of  the  county  of  Durham,!  advanced  to  the  gates  of  Newcastle ; 
where,  in  a  skirmish,  they  took  a  *  penon  '  or  colours  J  belonging 
to  Henry  lord  Percy,  sumamed  Hotspur,  son  to  the  Earl  of 
Northumberland.  In  their  retreat  home,  they  attacked  a  castle 
near  Otterboum  :  and,  in  the  evening  of  Aug.  9  (as  the  English 
writers  say,  or  rather,  according  to  Froissart,  Aug.  15),  after  an  un- 
successful assault  were  surprised  in  their  camp,  which  was  very 
strong,  by  Henry,  who  at  the  first  onset  put  them  into  a  good 
deal  of  confusion.  But  James  Earl  of  Douglas  rallying  his  men, 
there  ensued  one  of  the  best-fought  actions  that  happened  in  that 
age ;  both  armies  showing  the  utmost  bravery  :  §  the  earl  Douglas 
himself  being  slain  on  the  spot ;  ||  the  Earl  of  Murrey  mortally 
wounded ;  and  Hotspur,  ^  with  his  brother  Ralph  Percy,  taken 
prisoners.  These  disasters  on  both  sides  have  given  occasion  to 
the  event  of  the  engagement's  being  disputed.  Froissart  (who 
derives  his  relation  from  a  Scotch  knight,  two  gentlemen  of  the 
same  country,  and  as  many  of  Foix)**  affirming  that  the  Scots 

*  Froissart  speaks  of  both  parties  (consisting  in  all  of  more  than 
40,000  men)  as  entering  England  at  the  same  time :  but  the 
greater  part  by  way  of  Carlisle. 

t  And,  according  to  the  ballad,  that  part  of  Northumberland 
called  Bamboroughshire ;  a  large  tract  of  land  so  named  from  the 
town  and  castle  of  Bamborough ;  formerly  the  residence  of  the 
Northumbrian  kings. 

I  This  circumstance  is  omitted  in  the  ballad.  Hotspur  and 
Douglas  were  two  young  warriors  much  of  the  same  age. 

§  Froissart  says  the  English  exceeded  the  Scots  in  number  three 
to  one,  but  that  these  had  the  advantage  of  the  ground,  and  were 
also  fresh  from  sleep,  while  the  English  were  greatly  fatigued  with 
their  previous  march. 

II  By  Henry  L.  Percy,  according  to  this  ballad,  and  our  old 
English  historians,  as  Stow,  Speed,  &c.,  but  borne  down  by 
numbers,  if  we  may  believe  Froissart. 

\  Hotspur  (after^a  very  sharp  conflict)  was  taken  prisoner  by 
John,  Lord  Montgomery,  whose  eldest  son.  Sir  Hugh,  was  slain  in 
the  same  action  with  an  arrow,  according  to  Crawford's  Peerage 
(and  seems  also  to  be  alluded  to  in  the  foregoing  ballad,  p.  31), 
but  taken  prisoner  and  exchanged  for  Hotspur,  according  to  this 
ballad. 

**  Froissart  (according  to  the  EngHsh  transladon)  says  he  had 
his  account  from  two  squires  of  England,  and  from  a  knight  and 
squire  of  Scotland,  soon  after  the  battle. 


OF    OTTERBOURNE.  37 

remained  masters  of  the  field ;  and  the  Enghsh  Avriters  insinuating 
the  contrary.  These  last  maintain  that  the  Enghsh  had  the  better 
of  the  day :  but  night  coming  on,  some  of  the  northern  lords, 
coming  with  the  Bishop  of  Durham  to  their  assistance,  killed  many 
of  them  by  mistake,  supposing  them  to  be  Scots ;  and  the  Earl  of 
Dunbar,  at  the  same  time  falling  on  another  side  upon  Hotspur, 
took  him  and  his  brother  prisoners,  and  carried  them  off  while 
both  parties  were  fighting.  It  is  at  least  certain,  that  immediately 
after  this  battle  the  Scots  engaged  in  it  made  the  best  of  their  way 
home :  and  the  same  party  was  taken  by  the  other  corps  about 
Carlisle." 

Such  is  the  account  collected  by  Carte,  in  which  he  seems  not 
to  be  free  from  partiality  :  for  prejudice  must  own  that  Froissart's 
circumstantial  account  carries  a  great  appearance  of  truth,  and  he 
gives  the  victory  to  the  Scots.  He,  however,  does  justice  to  the 
courage  of  both  parties  ;  and  represents  their  mutual  generosity  in 
such  a  light,  that  the  present  age  might  edify  by  the  example. 
"The  Englyshmen  on  the  one  partye,  and  Scottes  on  the  other 
party,  are  good  men  of  warre,  for  whan  they  mete,  there  is  a  hard 
fighte  without  sparynge.  There  is  no  hoo*  betwene  them  as  long 
as  speares,  swordes,  axes,  or  dagers  Avyll  endure  ;  but  lay  on  eche 
upon  other :  and  whan  they  be  well  beaten,  and  that  the  one  party 
hath  obtayned  the  victory,  they  than  glorifye  so  in  their  dedes  of 
armes,  and  are  so  joyfuU,  that  suche  as  be  taken,  they  shall  be 
ransomed  or  they  go  out  of  the  felde  ;t  so  that  shortely  cche  of 
them  is  so  contcntc  with  other,  that  at  their  departynge  curtoysly  they 
7i<ili  saye,  God  thanke  you.  But  in  fyghtynge  one  with  another 
there  is  no  playe,  nor  sparynge."  Froissart's  Chronicle  (as  trans- 
lated by  Sir  Johan  Bourchier  Lord  Bemers),  cap.  cxlii. 

The  following  Ballad  is  (in  this  present  edition)  printed  from  an 
old  MS.  in  the  Cotton  Library  J  {Cleopatra,  c.  iv.),  and  contains 
many  stanzas  more  than  were  in  the  former  copy,  which  was 
transcribed  from  a  MS.  in  the  Harleian  Collection  [No.  293, 
fol.  52.]  In  the  Cotton  MS.  this  poem  has  no  title,  but  in  the 
Harleian  copy  it  is  thus  inscribed,  A  songe  made  in  R.  2.  his 
tyme  of  the  battele  of  Otterbiir?ie,  betweene  Lord  Henry  Percye  earle 
of  Northotnberlande  and  the  carle  Douglas  of  Scotlande,  Anno  13SS. 

*  So  in  Langham's  Lctte?-  concerning  Queen  Elizabeth's  entertain- 
ment at  Killini^worth  Castle,  1575,  12°.  p.  61.  "  Heer  was  no  ho  in 
devout  drinkyng." 

t  i.e.  They  scorn  to  take  the  advantage,  or  to  keep  them 
lingering  in  long  captivity. 

\  The  notice  of  this  MS.  I  must  acknowledge  with  many  other 
obligations,  owing  to  the  friendship  of  Thomas  Tynuhitt,  Escp,  late 
Clerk  of  the  House  of  Commons. 


cyfi 


38  THE    BATTLE 

But  this  title  is  erroneous,  and  added  by  some  ignorant  tran- 
scriber of  after-times:  for,  i.  The  battle  was  not  fought  by  the 
Earl  of  Northumberland,  who  was  absent,  but  by  his  son.  Sir 
Henry  Percy,  Knt.,  surnamed  Hotspur  (in  those  times  they  did 
not  usually  give  the  title  of  Z^r^  to  an  Earl's  eldest  son).  2.  Altho' 
the  battle  was  fought  in  Richard  II.'s  time,  the  song  is  evidently 
of  later  date,  as  appears  from  the  poet's  quoting  the  chronicles  in 
Ft.  II.,  ver.  26  ;  and  speaking  of  Percy  in  the  last  stanza  as 
dead.  It  was,  however,  written  in  all  likelihood  as  early  as  the 
foregoing  song,  if  not  earUer.  This,  perhaps,  may  be  inferred  from 
the  minute  circumstances  with  which  the  story  is  related,  many  of 
which  are  recorded  in  no  chronicle,  and  were  probably  preserved 
in  the  memory  of  old  people.  It  will  be  observed  that  the  authors 
of  these  two  poems  have  some  lines  in  common  ;  but  which  of 
them  was  the  original  proprietor  must  depend  upon  their  priority ; 
and  this  the  sagacity  of  the  reader  must  determine. 

[We  have  here  a  ballad  founded  upon  a  true  historical  event,  in 
which  the  writer  attempts  to  be  as  truthful  as  his  national  bias  will 
allow  him.  In  Chevy  Chase,  Percy  is  the  aggressor,  but  in  the 
"  Battle  of  Otterbum,"  Douglas  commences  the  encounter  by 
his  action.  At  the  period  under  notice  the  king  of  England 
(Richard  II.)  was  occupied  in  dissension  with  his  uncle,  the  Duke 
of  Gloucester,  and  the  Parliament,  while  Robert  II.,  King  of 
Scotland,  was  very  old,  and  his  eldest  son  lame  and  inactive,  so 
that  the  Border  chieftains  were  pretty  much  left  to  their  own 
devices.  The  Earl  of  Fife,  a  younger  son  of  King  Robert,  and 
certain  of  the  great  nobles,  arranged  among  themselves  that  an 
inroad  should  be  made  into  England  as  a  reprisal  for  the  injuries 
the  Scotch  had  at  various  times  sustained  from  the  Enghsh,  and 
the  expedition  was  placed  under  the  command  of  James,  Earl  of 
Douglas. 

Besides  the  ballad  we  are  now  considering  there  are  metrical 
accounts  of  the  battle  in  John  Hardyng's  Chronicle,  Joannes  de 
Fordun's  Scoti-Chronicon,  and  Wyntoun's  Orygynal  Crony kil  of 
Scotland.  In  1857,  Robert  White  pubHshed  an  interesting 
History  of  the  Battle  of  Otterbum,  fought  in  1388,  with  Memoirs 
of  the  Warriors  who  engaged  in  that  fnemorable  conflict.  This  book 
is  written  in  an  enthusiastic  spirit  by  one  who  was  born  and  bred 
on  the  Borders,  and  who  kept  alive  in  his  soul  the  true  old  Border 
spirit.  He  listened  on  his  mother's  knee  to  the  stanzas  of  the 
modern  ballad  of  Chevy  Chase,  which  she  chanted  to  him,  and  he 
grew  up  with  a  feeling  which  he  retained  through  life,  that 
Percy  and  Douglas  were  far  greater  men  than  Napoleon  and 
WeUington. 

The   exact   date  of  the   battle  is  an  open   question,   for   the 


OF    OTTERBOURNE. 


39 


authorities  disagree  as  to  this  particular ;  thus  Buchanan  fixes  it  on 
July  2ist,  and  other  writers  name,  respectively,  August  5th,  9th, 
loth,  15th,  and  19th.  White  thinks  that  the  battle  was  fought  on 
the  evening  of  Wednesday  and  morning  of  Thursday,  19th  and 
20th  of  August,  immediately  before  the  full  moon.  In  the  year 
13S8  the  new  moon  fell  on  the  6th  of  August,  and  Douglas  is  not 
likely  to  have  chosen  a  period  of  dark  evenings  for  his  expedi- 
tion. Another  disputed  point  is  the  number  of  men  in  the 
Scottish  army,  under  Douglas.  Froissart  gives  the  numbers  at 
three  or  four  hundred  men-at-arms,  and  two  thousand  infantry ; 
Wyntoun,  at  near  seven  thousand  men ;  Buchanan,  at  three 
hundred  horse  and  two  thousand  foot,  besides  servants  and  attend- 
ants ;  Godscroft,  at  four  thousand  horsemen ;  Ridpath,  at  three 
thousand  men  ;  and  Scott,  at  three  hundred  men-at-arms,  who, 
with  their  followers,  made  up  from  a  thousand  to  fifteen  hundred 
men,  with  two  thousand  chosen  infantry.  White  makes  the 
following  statement  as  the  result  of  his  sifting  of  the  conflicting 
accounts: — 

Men-at-arms     .......  400 

Attendants    on    ditto,    footmen,    lackeys,    and 

grooms          .......  1,200 

Infantry  mounted     ......  2,000 

Attendants  on  ditto,  boys  to  take  care  of  horses, 

sutlers,  &:c.  .......  3,000 


6,600 

It  has  been  supposed  that  the  first  part  of  this  ballad  down  to 
verse  112  was  originally  of  Scottish  manufacture,  for  two  reasons  : 
I  St,  because  Hume,  of  Godscroft,  refers  to  "a  Scots  song," 
which  begins  as  this  does ;  and  2nd,  because  haymaking  has  been 
over  at  least  a  month  in  England  at  Lammas,  when  Scotch 
husbandmen  are  still  busy  "  ^vinning  their  hay."  This  last  reason, 
however,  cannot  be  considered  a  very  conclusive  one,  as  the 
seasons  must  be  much  alike  on  the  two  sides  of  the  Border.  The 
second  part  is  written  from  a  thoroughly  English  stand-point.  The 
two  Scottish  versions,  viz.  the  one  given  by  Scott  in  his  Alinstrclsy 
of  the  Scottish  Border,  and  the  one  in  Herd's  Collection,  are  very 
different  from  the  English  ballad.] 


k 


40 


THE    BATTLE 


T  felle  abowght  the  Lamasse  tyde, 
Whan  husbonds  wynn  ther  haye, 
The  dowghtye  Dowglasse  bowynd^  hym 

to  ryde, 
In  Ynglond  to  take  a  praye  : 

The  yerlle''  of  Fyffe,*  withowghten  stryffe,  5 

He  bowynd  hym  over  Sulway  if 
The  grete  wolde  ever  together  ryde  ; 

That  race  they  may  rue  for  aye. 

Over  *  Ottercap'  hyll  they  J  came  in, 

And  so  dowyn  by  Rodelyffe  cragge,  ic 

Upon  Grene  *  Leyton'  they  lyghted  dowyn, 

Styrande  ^  many  a  stagge  : 


Ver.  2.  winn  their  heaye.  Harl.  MS.  This  is  the  Northumber- 
land phrase  to  this  day :  by  which  they  always  express  "  getting  in 
their  hay." 

V.  12.  This  line  is  corrupt  in  both  the  MSS.,  viz.  '' Many  a 
styrande  stage"  Stags  have  been  killed  within  the  present  century 
on  some  of  the  large  wastes  in  Northumberland. 

*  Robert  Stuart,  second  son  of  K.  Robert  II. 

t  i.  e.  "  over  Solway  frith."  This  evidently  refers  to  the  other 
division  of  the  Scottish  army,  which  came  in  by  way  of  Carlisle. 
Bowynd,  or  Boicnde  him  ;  i.  e.  hied  him. 

\  They:  sc.  the  Earl  of  Douglas  and  his  party.  The  several 
stations  here  mentioned  are  well-known  places  in  Northumberland. 
Ottercap-hill  is  in  the  parish  of  Kirk  Whelpington,  in  Tynedale- 
ward.  Rodeliffe  (or  as  it  is  more  usually  pronounced  Rodcley) 
Cragge  is  a  noted  cliff  near  Rodeley,  a  small  village  in  the  parish  of 
Hartburn,  in  Morpeth-ward.  It  lies  south-east  of  Ottercap,  and 
has,  within  these  few  years,  been  distinguished  by  a  small  tower 
erected  by  Sir  Walter  Blacket,  Bart.,  which  in  Armstrong's  map  of 
Northumberland  is  pompously  called  Rodcley-castle,  Green  Ieyto7i 
is  another  small  village  in  the  same  parish  of  Hartburn,  and  is 
south-east  of  Rodeley.  Both  the  original  MSS.  read  here  corruptly, 
Hoppertop  and  lynton. 

\}  prepared.  ^  e^rl.  ^  stirring.] 


OF    OTTERBOURNE.  41 

And  boldely  brente'  Northombcrlonde, 

And  har)'ed^  many  a  towyn  ; 
They  dyd  owr  Ynglyssh  men  grete  wrange,'        15 

To  battell  that  were  not  bowyn.* 

Than  spake  a  berne^  upon  the  bent,* 

Of  com  forte  that  was  not  colde, 
And  sayd,  We  have  brent  Northombcrlond, 

We  have  all  welth  in  holde. 


20 


Now  we  have  haryed  all  Bamboroweshyre, 
All  the  welth  in  the  worlde  have  wee  ; 

I  rede^  we  ryde  to  Newe  Castell, 
So  styll  and  stalwurthlye." 

Uppon  the  morowe,  when  it  was  daye,  25 

The  standards  schone  fulle  bryght ; 

To  the  Newe  Castelle  the  toke  the  waye, 
And  thether  they  cam  fulle  ryght. 

Sir  Henry  Percy  laye  at  the  Newe  Castelle, 

I  telle  yow  withowtten  drede  ;  30 

He  had  byn  a  march-man*  all  hys  dayes. 
And  kepte  Barwyke  upon  Twede. 

To  the  Newe  Castell  when  they  cam, 

The  Skottes  they  cryde  on  hyght," 
Syr  Harye  Percy,  and  thow  byste  ^"  within,  35 

Com  to  the  fylde,  and  fyght : 

For  we  have  brente  Northomberlonde, 

Thy  eritage  good  and  ryght ; 
And  syne  my  logeyng  I  have  take. 

With  my  brande  dubbyd  many  a  knyght.  40 

Ver.  39.     Syne  seems  here  to  mean  since. 

*  Marche-7fian,  i.  e.  a  scourer  of  the  marches. 

f  burnt.         2  pillaged.  '  wrong.         ■•  ready.         ''  man. 

♦•  field.  '  advise.  **  stoutly.        ^  aloud.         ,'"  art.  I 


42  THE    BATTLE 

Sir  Harry  Percy  cam  to  the  walks, 

The  Skottyssh  oste  for  to  se  ; 
"  And  thow  hast  brente  Northomberlond, 

Full  sore  it  rewyth^  me. 

Yf  thou  hast  haryed  all  Bambarowe  shyre,  45 

Thow  hast  done  me  grete  envye  '^^ 
For  the  trespasse  thow  hast  me  done, 

The  tone^  of  us  schall  dye." 

Where  schall  I  byde  the,  sayd  the  Dowglas  ? 

Or  where  wylte  thow  come  to  me  ?  50 

**  At  Otterborne  in  the  hygh  way,* 

Ther  maist  thow  well  logeed  be. 

The  roo^  full  rekeles  ther  sche  rinnes, 

To  make  the  game  and  glee  : 
The  fawkon  and  the  fesaunt '  both,  55 

Amonge  the  holtes  on  '  hee.'^ 

Ther  maist  thow  have  thy  welth  at  wyll. 

Well  looged  ther  maist  be. 
Yt  schall  not  be  long,  or  I  com  the  tyll,"  ^ 

Sayd  Syr  Harry  Percy e.  60 

Ther  schall  I  byde  the,  sayd  the  Dowglas, 

By  the  fayth  of  my  bodye. 
Thether  schall  I  com,  sayd  Syr  Harry  Percy; 

My  trowth  I  plyght  to  the. 


Ver.  53.  Roe-bucks  were  to  be  found  upon  the  wastes  not  far 
from  Hexham  in  the  reign  of  Geo.  I.  —  Whitfield,  Esq.,  of  Whitfield, 
is  said  to  have  destroyed  the  last  of  them. 

V.  56.  hye,  MSS. 

*  Otterbourn  is  near  the  old  Watling  Street  road,  in  the  parish 
of  Elsdon.  The  Scots  were  encamped  in  a  grassy  plain  near  the 
river  Read.  The  place  where  the  Scots  and  English  fought,  is  still 
called  Battle  Riggs. 

[^  regrets.  ^  injury.  ^  ^^  Q^e.  ^  roe. 

5  falcon  and  pheasant.      ^  woods  on  high.      '  come  unto  thee.] 


OF    OTTERBOURNE.  43 

A  pype  of  wyne  he  gave  them  over  the  walles,    65 

For  soth,  as  I  yow  saye  : 
Ther  he  mayd  the  Douglas  drynke, 

And  all  hys  oste  that  daye. 

The  Dowglas  turnyd  him  homewarde  agayne, 
For  soth*  withowghten  naye,  70 

He  tooke  his  logeyng  at  Oterborne 
Uppon  a  Wedyns-day  : 

And  ther  he  pyght^  hys  standerd  dowyn, 

Hys  gettyng'  more  and  lesse, 
And  syne*  he  warned  hys  men  to  goo  75 

To  chose  ther  geldyngs  gresse. 

A  Skottysshe  knyght  hoved^  upon  the  bent, 

A  wache^  I  dare  well  saye  : 
So  was  he  ware^  on  the  noble  Percy 

In  the  dawnynge  of  the  daye.  80 

He  prycked^  to  his  pavyleon  dore, 

As  faste  as  he  myght  ronne, 
Awaken,  Dowglas,  cryed  the  knyght, 

For  hys  love,  that  syttes  yn  trone.'-' 

Awaken,  Dowglas,  cryed  the  knyght,  85 

For  thow  maiste  waken  wyth  wynne  :  *" 

Vender  have  I  spyed  the  prowde  Percy, 
And  seven  standardes  wyth  hym. 

Nay  by  my  trowth,  the  Douglas  sayed, 

It  ys  but  a  fayned  taylle  :  90 

He  durste  not  loke  on  my  bred"  banner, 
For  all  Ynglonde  so  haylle/"^ 


Ver.  77.  upon  the  best  bent.  MS. 

\}  truth.         2  pitched.         ^  booty.         "*  then.         ^  hovered. 
"  spy.  ■^  aware.  *  spurred.      '••  enthroned.  ^"  joy. 

^^  broad.  '^'^  strong.] 


1 


'44  THE    BATTLE 

Was  I  not  yesterdaye  at  the  Newe  Castell, 

That  stonds  so  fayre  on  Tyne  ? 
For  all  the  men  the  Percy  hade,  95 

He  cowde  not  garre^  me  ones  to  dyne. 

He  stepped  owt  at  hys  pavelyon  dore, 

To  loke  and  it  were  lesse  ; 
Arraye  yow,  lordyngs,  one  and  all, 

For  here  bygynnes  no  peysse.*  100 

The  yerle  of  Mentaye,*  thow  arte  my  eme,^ 

The  forwarde^  I  gyve  to  the  : 
The  yerlle  of  Huntlay  cawte^  and  kene, 

He  schall  wyth  the  be. 

The  lorde  of  Bowghanf  in  armure  bryght  105 

On  the  other  hand  he  schall  be  : 
Lorde  Jhonstone,  and  lorde  Maxwell, 

They  to  schall  be  with  me. 

Swynton  fayre  fylde  upon  your  pryde 

To  batell  make  yow  bowen  :^  no 

Syr  Davy  Scotte,  Syr  Walter  Stewarde, 
Syr  Jhon  of  Agurstone. 

A     FYTTE. 


HE  Perssy  came  byfore  hys  oste, 
Wych  was  ever  a  gentyll  knyght. 
Upon  the  Dowglas  lowde  can  he  crye, 
I  wyll  holde  that  I  have  hyght : ' 


Ver.  I,  13.    Fearcy,  all  MSS.     V.  4.  I  will  hold  to  what  I  have 
promised. 

*  The  Earl  of  Menteith.  f  The  Lord  Buchan. 

[^  force.  2  peace.  ^  uncle.  '^  van.  ^  cautious. 

*  ready.         ^  promised  or  engaged.] 


OF    OTTERBOURNE.  45 

For  thow  haste  brente  Northumberlonde,  5 

And  done  me  grete  envye ; 
For  thys  trespasse  thou  hast  me  done, 

The  tone  of  us  schall  dye. 

The  Dowglas  answerde  hym  agayne 

With  grete  wurds  up  on  '  hee,'  10 

And  sayd,  I  have  twenty  agaynst  'thy'  one/'' 

Byholde  and  thow  maiste  see. 

Wyth  that  the  Percye  was  grevyd  sore, 

For  sothe  as  I  yow  saye : 
[f  He  lyghted  dowyn  upon  his  fote,  15 

And  schootc^  his  horsse  clenc  away. 

Every  man  sawe  that  he  dyd  soo. 

That  r^'air^  was  ever  in  rowght  ;^ 
Every  man  schoote  hys  horsse  him  froo, 

And  l}'ght  hym  rowynde  abowght.  20 

Thus  Syr  Hary  Percye  toke  the  fylde. 

For  soth,  as  I  yow  saye  : 
Jesu  Cryste  in  hevyn  on  hyght 

Dyd  helpe  hym  well  that  daye. 

But  nyne  thowzand,  ther  was  no  moo ;  as 

The  cronykle  wyll  not  layne  :"* 
Forty  thowsande  Skottes  and  fowre 

That  day  fowght  them  agayne. 

But  when  the  batell  byganne  to  joyne, 

In  hast  ther  came  a  knyght,  30 

Ver.  10.  hyc,  MSS.     V.  ii.    the  one,  MS. 

•  He  probably  magnifies  his  strength  to  induce  him  to  surrender, 
t  All  that  follows,  included  in  brackets,  was  not  in  the  first 
edition. 

\}  let  go.  2  royal.  ^  rout.  ■•  deceive.] 


.1 


46  THE    BATTLE 

'  Then'  letters  fayre  furth  hath  he  tayne 
And  thus  he  sayd  full  ryght : 

My  lorde,  your  father  he  gretes  yow  well, 

Wyth  many  a  noble  knyght ; 
He  desyres  yow  to  byde 

That  he  may  see  thys  fyght. 

The  Baron  of  Grastoke  ys  com  owt  of  the  west, 

Wyth  hym  a  noble  companye ; 
All  they  loge  at  your  fathers  thys  nyght. 

And  the  Battel  fayne  wold  they  see.  4° 

For  Jesu's  love,  sayd  Syr  Harye  Percy, 

That  dyed  for  yow  and  me, 
Wende  to  my  lorde  my  Father  agayne, 

And  saye  thow  saw  me  not  with  yee : 

My  trowth  ys  plyght  to  yonne  Skottysh  knyght,  45 

It  nedes  me  not  to  layne,'^ 
That  I  schulde  byde  hym  upon  thys  bent, 

And  I  have  hys  trowth  agayne  : 

And  if  that  I  wende  off  thys  grownde 

For  soth  unfoughten  awaye,  5° 

He  wolde  me  call  but  a  kowarde  knyght 
In  hys  londe  another  daye. 

Yet  had  I  lever  ^  to  be  rynde  ^  and  rente, 

By  Mary  that  mykel  maye  ;  ^ 
Then  ever  my  manhod  schulde  be  reprovyd         55 

Wyth  a  Skotte  another  daye. 

Wherfore  schote,  archars,  for  my  sake, 

And  let  scharpe  arowes  flee  : 
Mynstrells,  playe  up  for  your  waryson,^ 

And  well  quyt  it  schall  be.  60 

[^  eye.  ^  break  my  word.  ^  rather. 

■*  flayed?       *  great  maid.  *  reward.] 


OF    OTTERBOURNE.  47 

Every  man  thynke  on  hys  trewe  love, 

And  marke  hym  to  the  Trenlte  :  ^ 
For  to  God  I  make  myne  avowe 

Thys  day  wyll  I  not  fle. 

The  blodye  Harte  in  the  Dowglas  armes,  65 

Hys  standerde  stode  on  hye  ; 
That  every  man  myght  full  well  knowe : 

By  syde  stode  Starres  thre. 

The  whyte  Lyon  on  the  Ynglysh  parte, 

Forsoth  as  I  yow  sayne  ;  ^  70 

The  Lucetts  and  the  Cressawnts  both  : 
The  Skotts  faught  them  agayne.*] 

Uppon  sent  Andrewe  lowde  cane  they  crye, 
And  thrysse  they  schowte  on  hyght, 

And  syne  marked  them  one  owr  Ynglysshe  men,   75 
As  I  have  tolde  yow  ryght. 

Sent  George  the  bryght  owr  ladyes  knyght. 

To  name  they  f  were  full  fayne, 
Owr  Ynglysshe  men  they  cryde  on  hyght, 

And  thrysse  the  schowtte  agayne.  80 

Wyth  that  scharpe  arowes  bygan  to  flee, 

I  tell  yow  in  sertayne  ; 
Men  of  armes  byganne  to  joyne  ; 

Many  a  dowghty  man  was  ther  slayne. 

*  The  ancient  arms  of  Douglas  are  pretty  accurately  emblazoned 
in  the  former  stanza,  and  if  the  readings  were.  The  crotvncd  harte, 
and  Above  stode  starres  thre,  it  would  be  minutely  exact  at  this 
day.  As  for  the  Percy  family,  one  of  their  ancient  badges  or 
cognizances  was  a  whyte  lyon  statant,  and  the  silver  crescent  con- 
tinues to  be  used  by  them  to  this  day.  They  also  give  three 
luces  ardent  for  one  of  their  quarters. 

t  i.e.  the  English. 

\}  commit  himself  to  God  by  a  sign.  '^  SAy  to  you.] 


48  THE    BATTLE 

The  Percy  and  the  Dowglas  mette,  85 

That  ether  of  other  was  fayne  ; 
They  schapped'  together,  whyll  that  the  swette, 

With  swords  of  fyne  Collayne  ;  ^ 

Tyll  the  bloode  from  ther  bassonetts'  ranne, 
As  the  roke^  doth  in  the  rayne.^  90 

Yelde  the  to  me,  sayd  the  Dowglas, 
Or  ells  thow  schalt  be  slayne  : 

For  I  see,  by  thy  bryght  bassonet, 

Thow  arte  sum  man  of  myght ; 
And  so  I  do  by  thy  burnysshed  brande,^  95 

Thow  art  an  yerle,  or  ells  a  knyght.* 

By  my  good  faythe,  sayd  the  noble  Percy, 

Now  haste  thou  rede  ^  full  ryght, 
Yet  wyll  I  never  yelde  me  to  the, 

Whyll  I  may  stonde  and  fyght.  100 

They  swapped  together,  whyll  that  they  swette, 

Wyth  swordes  scharpe  and  long  ; 
Ych  on  other  so  faste  they  beette, 

Tyll  ther  helmes  cam  in  peyses  dowyn. 

The  Percy  was  a  man  of  strenghth,  105 

I  tell  yow  in  thys  stounde,^ 
He  smote  the  Dowglas  at  the  swordes  length. 

That  he  felle  to  the  growynde. 

The  sworde  was  scharpe  and  sore  can  byte, 

I  tell  yow  in  sertayne  ;  "o 

To  the  harte,  he  cowde  hym  smyte, 
Thus  was  the  Dowglas  slayne. 


*  Being  all  in  armour  he  could  not  know  him. 

S}  swapped  ?  /.  e.  smote.  ^  Cologne  steel.  ^  helmets. 

■*  steam.  ^  sword.  ^  guessed.  '  time.] 


OF    OTTERBOURNE.  49 

The  stonderds  stode  styll  on  eke  syde, 

With  many  a  grevous  grone  ; 
Ther  the  fowght  the  day,  and  all  the  nyght,         115 

And  many  a  dowghty  man  was  '  slone.' 

Ther  was  ho  freke,'  that  ther  wolde  flye, 

But  styffly  in  stowre '  can  stond, 
Ychone  ^  hewyng  on  other  whyll  they  myght  drye,^ 

Wyth  many  a  bayllefull  bronde.  izo 

Ther  was  slayne  upon  the  Skottes  syde, 

For  soth  and  sertenly, 
Syr  James  a  Dowglas  ther  was  slayne, 

That  daye  that  he  cowde  dye. 

The  yerlle  Mentaye  of  he  was  slayne,  125 

Grysely  ^  groned  uppon  the  growynd  ; 

Syr  Davy  Scotte,  Syr  Walter  Steward, 
Syr  '  John  '  of  Agurstonne.* 

Syr  Charlies  Morrey  in  that  place, 

That  never  a  fote  wold  flye  ;  130 

Sir  Hughe  Maxwell,  a  lorde  he  was, 

With  the  Dowglas  dyd  he  dye. 

Ther  was  slayne  upon  the  Skottes  syde, 

For  soth  ^  as  I  yow  saye, 
Of  fowre  and  forty  thowsande  Scotts  135 

Went  but  eyghtene  awaye. 


Ver.  116.  slayne.  MSS.     V.  124,  i.e.  He  died  that  day. 

*  Our  old  minstrel  repeats  these  names,  as  Homer  and  Virgil 
do  those  of  their  heroes  : 

" fortemque  Gyam,  fortcmque  Cloanthuni,"  &c.  &c. 

Both  the   MSS.  read  here,  ^^ Sir  James"  but  see  above,  Pt.  I., 
ver.  1 12. 

[^  man.  ^  fight.  ^  each  one.  '  endure. 

^  dreadfully.  "  truth.] 

E 


50  THE    BATTLE 

Ther  was  slayne  upon  the  Ynglysshe  syde, 

For  soth  and  sertenlye, 
A  gentell  knyght,  Sir  John  Fitz-hughe, 

Yt  was  the  more  petye.  140 

Syr  James  Harebotell  ther  was  slayne, 

For  hym  ther  hartes  were  sore, 
The  gentyll  '  Lovelle  '  ther  was  slayne, 

That  the  Percyes  standerd  bore. 

Ther  was  slayne  uppon  the  Ynglyssh  perte,        145 

For  soth  as  I  yow  saye ; 
Of  nyne  thowsand  Ynglyssh  men 

Fyve  hondert  cam  awaye  : 

The  other  were  slayne  In  the  fylde, 

Cryste  kepe  ther  sowles  from  wo,  150 

Seyng  ther  was  so  fewe  fryndes 

Agaynst  so  many  a  foo. 

Then  one  the  morne  they  mayd  them  beeres 

Of  byrch,  and  haysell  graye  ; 
Many  a  wydowe  with  wepyng  teyres  155 

Ther  makes ^  they  fette'^  awaye. 

Thys  fraye  bygan  at  Otterborne, 

Bytwene  the  nyghte  and  the  day  : 
Ther  the  Dowglas  lost  hys  lyfe, 

And  the  Percy  was  lede  awaye.*  160 

Then  was  ther  a  Scottyshe  prisoner  tayne, 
Syr  Hughe  Mongomery  was  hys  name. 


Ver.  143.  Covelle.    MS.     For  the  names  in  this  page,  see  the 
remarks  at  the  end  of  this  ballad.     V.  153.  one,  i.e.  on. 

*  sc.  captive. 

['  mates.  2  fetch.] 


OF   OTTERDOURNE.  51 

For  soth  as  I  yow  saye, 

He  borowed  the  Percy  home  agayne.* 

Now  let  us  all  for  the  Percy  praye  165 

To  Jesu  most  of  myght. 
To  bryng  h)-s  sowle  to  the  blysse  of  heven, 

For  he  was  a  gentyll  knyght. 


* ^  Most  of  the  names  in  the  two  preceding  ballads  are  found 
to  have  belonged  to  families  of  distinction  in  the  North,  as  may  be 
made  appear  from  authentic  records.     Thus  in 

THE  ANCIENT  BALLAD  OF  CHEVY  CHASE. 

'ECOND  Fit,  ver.  112.  As;crstoncr\  The  family  oi  Haggcr- 
ston  of  Haggerston,  near  Berwick,  has  been  seated  there 
for  many  centuries,  and  still  remains.  Thomas  Haggaston 
was  among  the  commissioners  returned  for  Northumberland  in 
12  Hen.  6,  1433.  (Fuller's  IVort/iics,  p.  310.)  The  head  of  this 
family  at  present  is  Sir  Thomas  Haggerston,  Bart.,  of  Haggerston 
above-mentioned. 

N.B.  The  name  is  spelt  Agcrstonc,  as  in  the  text,  in  Leland's 
Itinerary,  vol.  vii.  p.  54.^ 

Ver.  113.  Hartly.^  Hartley  is  a  village  near  the  sea  in  the 
barony  of  Tinemouth,  about  7  m.  from  North-Shields.  It  pro- 
bably gave  name  to  a  family  of  note  at  that  time. 

Ver.  114.  Hearone.']  This  family,  one  of  the  most  ancient,  was 
long  of  great  consideration  in  Northumberland.  Iladdesto/i,  the 
Caput  Baroniae  of  Heron,  was  their  ancient  residence.    It  descended 


Ver.  165.  Percyes. — Ilarl.  MS. 

*  In  the  Cotton  MS.  is  the  following  note  on  ver.  164,  in  an 
ancient  hand : — 

"  Syr  Hewe  Mongomery  takyn  prizonar,  was  delyvered  for  the 
restorynge  of  Perssy." 

['  Sir  Walter  Scott  suggests  that  the  person  here  alluded  to  was 
one  of  the  Rulherfords,  barons  of  Fdgerstane  or  I'^dgcrston,  who 
at  this  time  were  retainers  of  the  house  of  Douglas,  but  in  Chay 
Chase  Sir  John  of  Agerstone  was  on  Percy's  side.J 


52  THE    BATTLE 

25  Edw.  I.  to  the  heir  general  Emiline  Heron,  afterwards  Baroness 
Darcy. — Ford,  &=c.,  and  Bockenficld  (in  com.  eodem)  went  at  the 
same  time  to  Roger  Heron,  the  heir  male ;  whose  descendants 
were  summoned  to  Parliament :  Sir  William  Hejvn  of  Ford  Castle 
being  summoned  44  Edw.  III. — Ford  Castle  hath  descended  by- 
heirs  general  to  the  family  of  Delaval  (mentioned  in  the  next 
article). — Robert  Heron,  Esq.,  who  died  at  Newark  in  1753,  (father 
of  the  Right  Hon.  Sir  Ric/iard  Heron,  Bart.)  was  heir  male  of  the 
Herons  of  Bockenfield,  a  younger  branch  of  this  family. — Sir 
Thomas  Heron  Middleton,  Bart.,  is  heir  male  of  the  Heions  of 
Chip-Chase,  another  branch  of  the  Herons  of  Ford  Castle. 

Ver.  115.  Lovele.~\  Joh.  de  Lav  ale,  miles,  was  sheriff  of  North- 
umberland 34  Hen.  VIII.  Joh.  de  Lavele,  ?7iil.  in  the  i  Edw.  VI. 
and  afterwards.  (Fuller,  313.)  In  Nicholson  this  name  is  spelt 
Da  Lovel,  p.  304.  This  seems  to  be  the  ancient  family  oi  Delaval, 
of  Seaton  Delaval,  in  Northumberland,  whose  ancestor  was  one  of 
the  25  Barons  appointed  to  be  guardians  oi  Magna  Charta.  * 

Ver.  117.  Rugbe.']  The  ancient  family  o{  Rokeby,  in  Yorkshire, 
seems  to  be  here  intended.  In  Thoresby's  Ducat.  Lcod.,  p.  253, 
fol.,  is  a  genealogy  of  this  house,  by  which  it  appears  that  the  head 
of  the  family,  about  the  time  when  this  ballad  was  written,  was 
Sir  Ralph  Rokeby,  Knt.,  Ralph  being  a  common  name  of  the 
Rokebys? 

Ver.  119.  Wetharrington.']  Rog.  de  Widrington  was  sheriff  of 
Northumberland  in  36  of  Edw.  III.  (Fuller,  p.  311.) — Joh.  de 
Widrington  in  1 1  of  Hen.  IV.  and  many  others  of  the  same  name 
afterwards. — See  also  Nicholson,  p.  331. — Of  this  family  was  the 
late  Lord  Witherington. 

Ver.  124.  Mo?igonberfy.']  Sir  Hugh  Monfgofnery  was  son  oijohn 
Lord  Montgomery,  the  lineal  ancestor  of  the  present  Earl  of 
Eglington.  ' 

Ver.  125.  Lwdale.']  The  ancient  family  of  the  Liddels  were  origi- 
nally from  Scotland,  where  they  were  lords  of  Liddel  Castle,  and 
of  the  Barony  of  Buff.  (Vid.  Collins's  Peerage.)  The  head  of 
this  family  is  the  present  Lord  Ravensworth,  of  Ravensworth 
Castle,  in  the  county  of  Durham.^ 

[1  This  is  a  misreading,  as  the  person  intended  was  a  Lumley. 
'^  Sir  W.  Scott  supposes  "  Sir  Rafife  the  ryche  Rugbe"  to  be  Sir 
Ralph  Neville  of  Raby  Castle,  son  of  the  first  Earl  of  Westmore- 
land, and  cousin-german  to  Hotspur.      He  is  called  Sir  Ralph 
Raby  in  the  modern  version  of  the  ballad. 
^  More  probably  the  Sir  David  Lambwell  of  the  modern  version.] 


OF    OTTERBOURNE. 


IN  THE  BATTLE  OF  OTTERBOURNE. 

Ver.  loi.  McntayeP\  At  the  time  of  this  battle  the  Earldom  of 
ATenteith  was  possessed  by  Robert  Stewart,  Earl  of  Fife,  third  sou 
of  K.  Robert  II.,  who,  according  to  Buchanan,  commanded  the 
Scots  that  entered  by  Carlisle.  But  our  minstrel  had  probably  an 
eye  to  the  family  of  Graham,  who  had  this  earldom  when  tlie 
ballad  was  >\Titten.     See  Douglas's  Peerage  of  Scotland,  1764,  fol. 

Ver.  103.  Hiintleye?^  This  shews  this  ballad  was  not  composed 
before  1449;  for  in  that  year  Alexander  Lord  of  Gordon  and 
Huntley,  was  created  Earl  oi Huntley,  by  K.  James  II. 

Ver.  105.  Boii'ghan?^  The  Earl  of  Bitchan  at  that  time  was 
Alexander  Stacart,  fourth  son  of  K.  Robert  II. 

Ver.  lo"].  Jhonstonc — Ma-xwell.']  These  two  families  oi  John- 
stone Lord  of  Johnston,  and  Maxwell  Lord  of  Maxwell,  were 
always  very  powerful  on  the  borders.  Of  the  former  family  was 
Johnston  Alarquis  of  Annandale :  of  the  latter  was  Maxwell  Earl 
of  Nithsdale.  I  cannot  find  that  any  chief  of  this  family  was 
named  Sir  Hugh ;  but  Sir  Herbert  Maxwell  was  about  this  time 
much  distinguished.  (See  Doug.)  This  might  have  been  ori- 
ginally written  Sir  H.  Alaxwell,  and  by  transcribers  converted 
into  Sir  Hugh.  So  above,  in  No.  I.  v.  90.  Ricluird  is  contracted 
into  Ric. 

Ver.  109.  SwtntoneS\  i.e.  The  Laird  of  Swintone;  a  small  vil- 
lage Avithin  the  Scottish  border,  3  miles  from  Norham.  This 
family  still  subsists,  and  is  very  ancient. 

Ver.  III.  Scotte.']  The  illustrious  family  oi  Scot,  ancestors  of 
the  Duke  of  Buccleugh,  always  made  a  great  figure  on  the  borders. 
Sir  Walter  Scot  was  at  thg^head  of  this  family  when  the  battle  was 
fought ;  but  his  great-grandson,  Sir  David  Scot,  was  the  hero  of 
that  house  when  the  ballad  was  written. 

Ibid.  Steiuarde.'\  The  person  here  designed  was  probably  Sir 
Walter  Stc7vart,  Lord  of  Dalswinton  and  Oairlies,  who  was 
eminent  at  that  time.  (See  Doug.)  From  him  is  descended  the 
Ijresent  Earl  of  Galloway. 

Ver.  112.  Agurstonne.]  The  seat  of  this  family  was  sometimes 
subject  to  the  kings  of  Scotland.  Thus  Richardus  Haggerstoiin, 
miles,  is  one  of  the  Scottish  knights  who  signed  a  treaty  with  the 
English  in  1249,  temp.  Hen.  III.  (Nicholson,  p.  2,  note). — It  was 
the  fate  of  many  parts  of  Northumberland  often  to  change  their 
masters,  according  as  the  Scottish  or  English  arms  prevailed. 


54         THE    JEW'S    DAUGHTER. 

Ver.  129.  Miirreyr\  The  person  here  meant  was  probably  Sir 
Charles  Murray  of  Cockpoole,  who  flourished  at  that  time,  and 
was  ancestor  of  the  Murrays  sometime  Earls  of  Annandale.  See 
Doug.  Peerage. 

Ver.  139.  Fitz-hughe.']  Dugdale  (in  his  Baron,  v.  i.  p.  403)  in- 
forms us  \hzlJohn,  son  of  Henry  Lord  Fitz/mgh,  was  killed  at  the 
battle  of  Otterbourne.  This  was  a  Northumberland  family.  Vid. 
Dugd.  p.  403,  col.  I,  and  Nicholson,  pp.  33,  60. 

Ver.  141.  Harbotle.~\  Harbottle  is  a  village  upon  the  river 
Coquet,  about  10  m.  west  of  Rothbury.  The  family  of  Harbottle 
was  once  considerable  in  Northumberland.  (See  Fuller,  pp.  312, 
313.)  A  daughter  of  Gidschard  Harbottle,  Esq.,  married  Sir 
Thomas  Percy,  Knt.,  son  of  Henry  the  fifth,  — and  father  of 
Thomas  seventh,  Earls  of  Northumberland. 


III. 

THE    JEW'S    DAUGHTER, 
A  Scottish  Ballad, 

fS  founded  upon  the  supposed  practice  of  the  Jews  in 
crucifying  or  otherwise  murdering  Christian  children, 
out  of  hatred  to  the  religion  of  their  parents  :  a  prac- 

_     tice  which  has   been  always   alledged  in   excuse  for 

the  cruelties  exercised  upon  that  wretched  people,  but  which 
probably  never  happened  in  a  single  instance.  For,  if  we  con- 
sider, on  the  one  hand,  the  ignorance  and  superstition  of  the 
times  when  such  stories  took  their  rise,  the  virulent  prejudices 
of  the  monks  who  record  them,  and  the  eagerness  with  which 
they  would  be  catched  up  by  the  barbarous  populace  as  a  pretence 
for  plunder ;  on  the  other  hand,  the  great  danger  incurred  by  the 
perpetrators,  and  the  inadequate  motives  they  could  have  to  excite 
them  to  a  crime  of  so  much  horror ;  we  may  reasonably  conclude 
the  whole  charge  to  be  groundless  and  malicious. 

The  following  ballad  is  probably  built  upon  some  Italian  legend, 
and  bears  a  great  resemblance  to  the  Prioresse's  Tale  in  Chaucer : 
the  poet  seems  also  to  have  had  an  eye  to  the  known  story  of 
Hugh  of  Lincoln,  a  child  said  to  have  been  there  murdered  by  the 
Jews  in  the  reign  of  Henry  HI.  The  conclusion  of  this  ballad 
appears  to  be  wanting  :  what  it  probably  contained  may  be  seen 


THE    JEW'S   DAUGHTER.        55 

in  Chaucer.  As  for  AFirryland  Toiin,  it  is  probably  a  corruption 
of  Milan  (called  by  the  Dutch  Mcylandt)  Town :  the  Pa  is  evi- 
dently the  river  Po;  although  the  Adige,  not  the  Po,  runs  through 
IMilan. 

Printed  from  a  MS.  copy  sent  from  Scotland. 

[This  ballad,  which  is  also  known  under  the  title  of  Sir  Hugh  of 
Lincoln,  was  at  one  time  so  widely  popular  that  it  is  preserved  in 
six  different  versions,  besides  fragments,  and  has  originated  a  litera- 
ture of  its  own.  INIons.  Francisc^ue  Michel  discovered  a  Norman- 
French  version  in  the  Royal  Library  at  Paris,  which  is  supposed 
to  date  back  to  the  period  when  the  murder  of  Sir  Hugh  was 
to  have  been  committed.  This  was  first  published  in  the  year 
1834  under  the  title,  "  Hugues  de  Lincoln  :  Recueil  de  Ballades 
Anglo-Nomiande  et  Ecossoises  relatives  au  meurtre  de  cet  enfant 
commis  par  les  Juifs  en  mcclv."  The  Rev.  Dr.  A.  Hume  commu- 
nicated a  very  full  paper  on  the  subject  of  the  tradition  to  the 
Literary  and  Philosophical  Society  of  Liverpool,  on  November  13, 
1848,  which  is  published  in  the  Proceedings  (No.  5),  and  Mr. 
J.  O.  HaUiwell  printed,  in  1S49,  a  small  volume  containing 
"  Ballads  and  Poems  respecting  Hugh  of  Lincoln."  In  the 
Athc7iieiim  for  Dec.  15,  1849,  there  is  a  condemnatory  review  of 
Dr.  Hume's  work,  to  which  the  reviewer  has  added  some  valuable 
infomiation  of  his  own.  Percy's  remark  that  Alirryland  town  is  a 
corruption  of  Milan  town,  and  Pa  of  tlie  river  Po,  seems  far-fetched, 
as  there  is  no  reason  for  supposing  that  the  ballad  was  in  any  way 
connected  with  Italy.  Jamieson's  version  reads  Merry  Lincoln, 
and  in  Motherwell's  the  scene  is  changed  to  Maitkmd  town.  In 
some  parts  of  England  the  ballad  has  degenerated  into  a  sort  of 
nursery  rhyme,  the  Northamptonshire  version  reading  "  Merry 
Scotland,"  and  the  Shropshire  one,  "  Merry-cock  land."  Mr.  J. 
H.  Dixon  suggests  jnerc-land  town,  from  the  mere  or  fen  lakes,  and 
reads  wa'  for  Pa'.  {Notes  and  Queries,  3rd  Series,  vol.  ix.  p.  30, 
note.) 

Miss  Agnes  Strickland  communicated  the  following  lines  ob- 
tained from  oral  tradition  at  Godalming,  in  Surrey,  to  Mr.  HaUiwell, 
who  printed  them  in  his  tract : — 

"  He  toss'd  the  ball  so  high,  so  high, 
He  toss'd  the  ball  so  low ; 
He  toss'd  the  ball  in  the  Jew's  garilen. 
And  the  Jews  were  all  below. 

"  Oh  !  then  out  came  the  Jew's  daughter, 
She  was  dressed  all  in  green  : 
*  Come  hither,  come  hither,  my  sweet  pretty  fellow, 
And  fetch  your  ball  again.'" 


56         THE    JEWS    DAUGHTER. 

The  tradition  upon  which  this  ballad  is  founded— that  the  Jews 
use  human  blood  in  their  preparation  for  the  Passover,  and  are  in 
the  habit  of  kidnapping  and  butchering  Christian  children  for  the 
purpose — is  very  widely  spread  and  of  great  antiquity.  Eisen- 
menger*  refers  to  a  case  which  occurred  at  Inmestar,  in  Syria,  so 
early  as  the  year  419,  but  the  earliest  case  recorded  as  having  oc- 
curred in  Europe  is  that  of  William  of  Norwich,  in  1137.  The 
following  is  a  translation  from  a  passage  in  the  Peterborough 
Chronicle  (which  ends  with  the  death  of  Stephen  and  the  accession 
of  Henry  the  Second),  relating  to  this  remarkable  superstition  : — 
"  Now  we  mil  say  something  of  what  happened  in  King  Stephen's 
time.  In  his  time  the  Jews  of  Norwich  bought  a  Christian  child 
before  Easter,  and  tortured  him  with  all  the  same  torturing  that 
our  Lord  was  tortured.  And  on  Good  Friday  (lang  fridai)  they 
hanged  him  on  a  cross,  for  our  Lord's  love ;  and  afterwards  buried 
him.  They  thought  (wenden)  that  it  should  be  concealed,  but 
our  Lord  showed  that  he  was  a  holy  martyr  (mr),  and  the  monks 
took  him  and  buried  him  solemnly  in  the  monastery  (minst). 
And  he  maketh  through  our  Lord  wonderful  and  manifold  miracles. 
And  he  was  called  Saint  William."  Mr.  Earle,  in  his  note  to  this 
passage,!  says  that  "  S.  William  seems  to  have  retained  his 
celebrity  down  to  the  time  of  the  Reformation,  at  least  in  Norfolk. 
In  Loddon  church,  which  is  advanced  perpendicular  of  about 
1500,  there  is  a  painting  of  his  crucifixion  on  a  panel  of  the  rood- 
screen,  still  in  fair  preservation." 

St.  William's  fame,  however,  was  eclipsed  in  other  parts  of  Eng- 
land by  that  of  Sir  Hugh  of  Lincoln,  whose  death  was  celebrated 
by  historians  and  poets.  Henry  III.  being  often  in  want  of 
money,  was  glad  to  take  any  opportunity  of  extorting  it  from  the  un- 
fortunate Jews,  and  in  1255  his  exchequer  particularly  required 
replenishing  on  account  of  the  expected  arrival  in  England  of  his 
son  Edward's  newly  married  wife,  Eleanor  of  Castile.  In  this  year 
a  young  boy  was  murdered,  and,  opportunely  for  the  king,  the 
crime  was  charged  to  the  Jews.  It  was  asserted  that  the  child 
had  been  stolen,  fattened  on  bread  and  milk  for  ten  days,  and 
crucified  with  all  the  cruelties  and  insults  of  Christ's  passion,  in 
the  presence  of  all  the  Jews  in  England,  who  had  been  summoned 
to  Lincoln  for  the  purpose.  The  supposed  criminals  were  brought 
to  justice,  and  the  king's  commission  for  the  trial,  and  the  warrant 
to  sell  the  goods  of  the  several  Jews  who  were  found  guilty,  are 
still  preserved.  The  Jew  into  whose  house  the  child  had  gone  to 
play,  tempted  by  the  promise  of  his  life,  made  a  full  confession, 
and  threw  the  guilt  upon  his  brethren.     Ninety-one  Jews  of  Lin- 

[*  Entdecktcs  Judetithum,  vol.  ii.  p.  220. 

I   Ttvo  of  the  Saxon  Chronicles  Parallel,  1865,  p.  371-] 


THE    JEW'S   DAUGHTER.         57 

coin  were  sent  to  London  as  accomplices,  and  thrown  into 
dungeons.  Eighteen  of  the  richest  were  hanged  on  a  gallows,  and 
twenty  more  imprisoned  in  the  Tower  of  London.  The  king  was 
enriched  by  the  spoils,  and  the  clergy  of  Lincoln  did  not  lose  their 
opportunity,  for  the  minster  was  made  famous  by  the  possession  of 
the  martyr's  tomb.  Dean  Milman,  in  relating  these  circumstances, 
says :  "  Great  part  of  the  story  refutes  itself,  but  I  have  already 
admitted  the  possibility  that  among  the  ignorant  and  fanatic  Jews 
there  might  be  some  who,  exasperated  by  the  constant  repetition 
of  the  charge,  might  brood  over  it  so  long,  as  at  length  to  be 
tempted  to  its  perpetration."*  Any  such  explanation  as  this,  how- 
ever, does  not  seem  necessary,  for  the  wide-spread  existence  of 
the  superstition  goes  far  to  prove  the  entire  falsehood  at  least  of 
the  later  cases,  and  the  story  of  Sir  Hugh  was  but  a  revival  of  that 
of  St.  William.  It  is  worth  mentioning,  in  passing,  that  this 
calumny  was  in  fact  a  recoil  upon  the  Jews  themselves  of  a 
weapon  they  had  used  against  the  Christians.  As  early  as  the 
third  century  they  affirmed  that  Christians  in  celebrating  their 
mysteries  used  to  kill  a  child  and  eat  its  flesh.  Pagans  probably 
learnt  the  calumny  from  the  Jews,  and  also  charged  the  Christians 
with  eating  children. 

The  whole  proceedings  in  the  case  of  Sir  Hugh  are  chronicled 
by  Matthew  Paris,  Avho  was  in  high  favour  with  Henry  IH.,  and 
from  his  pages  the  account  is  transferred  to  the  Chronicles  of 
Grafton,  Fabyan,  and  Holinshed.  Chaucer  most  probably  con- 
sulted the  same  source  when  he  included  the  story  in  his  Canter- 
bury Talcs,  although  he  shifts  the  scene  to  Asia,  and  makes  his 
Prioress  say,  when  ending  her  tale  with  a  reference  to  Sir  Hugh : — 

"  O  younge  Hughe  of  Lyncoln  ;  slayn  also 
With  cursed  Jewes  (as  it  is  notable, 
For  it  nys  but  a  litcl  ivhile  ago)." 

Tyrvvhitt,  in  his  edition  of  Chaucer,  notes  that  he  found  in  the 
first  four  months  of  the  Acta  Sanctorum  of  Bollandus  the  names  of 
five  children  canonized  as  having  been  murdered  by  the  Jews,  and 
he  supposes  that  the  remaining  eight  months  would  furnish  at  least 
as  many  more.  Tynvhitt  accepts  Percy's  interpretation  of  Mirry- 
land  as  a  corruption  of  the  name  of  Milan,  and  under  this 
erroneous  impression  he  suggests  that  the  real  occasion  of  the 
ballad  may  have  been  the  murder  of  the  boy  Simon,  at  Trent, 
in  1475. t 

[*  History  of  the  Jews,  ed.  1863,  vol.  iii.  [).  249. 
t  Mr.  Hales  points  out  to  me  the  following  reference  to  the 
superstition  in  Marlowe  s  y^rc'  of  Malta,  acl  iii.  : — 


58         THE    JEW'S    DAUGHTER. 

The  superstition  upon  which  all  these  stories  are  founded  is  said 
still  to  prevail  among  the  ignorant  members  of  the  Greek  Church, 
and  it  was  revived  at  Damascus  in  1840  in  consequence  of  the 
disappearance  of  a  priest  named  Thomaso.  Two  or  three  Jews 
were  put  to  death  before  a  proper  judicial  examination  could  be 
made,  and  the  popular  fury  was  so  excited  that  severe  persecution 
extended  through  a  large  part  of  the  Turkish  empire.  Sir  Moses 
Montefiore  visited  the  various  locaUties  with  the  object  of  obtain- 
ing redress  for  his  people,  and  he  was  successful.  On  November 
6,  1840,  a  firman  for  the  protection  of  the  Jews  was  given  at  Con- 
stantinople, which  contained  the  following  passage : — "  An  ancient 
prejudice  prevailed  against  the  Jews.  The  ignorant  believed  that 
the  Jews  were  accustomed  to  sacrifice  a  human  being,  to  make  use 
of  his  blood  at  the  Passover.  In  consequence  of  this  opinion  the 
Jews  of  Damascus  and  Rhodes,  who  are  subjects  of  our  empire, 
have  been  persecuted  by  other  nations.  .  .  .  But  a  short  time 
has  elapsed  since  some  Jews  dwelling  in  the  isle  of  Rhodes  were 
brought  from  thence  to  Constantinople,  where  they  had  been  tried 
and  judged  according  to  the  new  regulations,  and  their  innocence 
of  the  accusations  made  against  them  fully  proved."  The  calumny, 
however,  was  again  raised  in  October,  1847,  and  the  Jews  were  in 
imminent  peril  when  the  missing  boy,  who  had  been  staying  at 
Baalbec,  reappeared  in  good  health. 

Within  the  last  few  years  the  Greek  Patriarch  at  Constantinople 
has  issued  a  pastoral  letter,  in  which  he  points  out  the  wickedness 
of  the  Christian  persecution  of  the  Jews.  He  says  :  *'  Superstition 
is  a  detestable  thing.  Almost  all  the  Christian  nations  of  the  East 
have  taken  up  the  extravagant  idea  that  the  Israehtes  enjoy  shed- 
ding Christian  blood,  either  to  obtain  thereby  a  blessing  from 
heaven,  or  to  gratify  their  national  rancour  against  Christ.  Hence 
conflicts  and  disturbances  break  out,  by  which  the  social  harmony 
between  the  dwellers  in  the  same  land,  yea,  the  same  fatherland, 
is  disturbed.  Thus  a  report  was  lately  spread  of  the  abduction  of 
little  Christian  children  in  order  to  give  a  pretext  for  suspicion. 
We  on  our  side  abhor  such  lying  fancies ;  we  regard  them  as  the 
superstitions  of  men  of  weak  faith  and  narrow  minds ;  and  we 
disavow  them  officially." 


"  Friar  Jaco7no.  Why,  what  has  he  done  ? 

Friar  Barnardinc.  A  thing  that  makes  me  tremble  to  unfold. 

Jac.  What,  has  he  crucified  a  child  ? 

Bar.  No,  but  a  worse  thing ;  'twas  told  me  in  shrift ; 
Thou  know'st  'tis  death,  an  if  it  be  reveal'd." 

Dyce  in  his  note  quotes  from  Reed  a  reference  to  Tovey's  Anglia 
Judaica,  where  instances  of  such  crucifixion  are  given.] 


THE    JEW'S    DAUGHTER.         59 

The  superstition,  however,  still  lives  on,  and  according  to  the 
Levant  Herald  {x^lAr),  the  Mahometans  are  beginning  to  fell  into 
the  delusion  that  the  sacrificial  knife  is  applied  by  the  Jews  to 
young  Turks  as  well  as  to  young  Christians.] 


HE    rain    rins    doun    through   Mirry-land 
toune, 
Sae  dois  it  doune  the  Pa  : 
Sae  dois  the  lads  of  Mirry-land  toune, 
Ouhan  they  play  at  the  ba'.' 

Than  out  and  cam  the  Jewis  dochter,  5 

Said,  Will  ye  cum  in  and  dine  ? 
"  I  winnae  cum  in,  I  cannae  cum  in, 

Without  my  play-feres'^  nine." 

Scho'  powd^  an  apple  reid  and  white 

To  intice  the  yong  thing  in  :  10 

Scho  powd  an  apple  white  and  reid, 

And  that  the  sweit  bairne  did  win. 

And  scho  has  taine  out  a  little  pen-knife, 

And  low  down  by  her  gair,^ 
Scho  has  twin'd'^  the  yong  thing  and  his  life  ;  15 

A  word  he  nevir  spak  main 

And  out  and  cam  the  thick  thick  bluid, 

And  out  and  cam  the  thin  ; 
And  out  and  cam  the  bonny  herts  bluid  : 

Thair  was  nae  life  left  in.  20 

Scho  laid  him  on  a  dressing  borde, 

And  drest  him  like  a  swine, 
And  laughing  said,  Gae  nou  and  pley 

With  your  sweit  play-feres  nine. 


[1  ball.  2  play-fellows.  ^  she. 

•♦  pulled.  ^  dress.  *  parted  in  two.] 


6o         THE    JEW'S    DAUGHTER. 

Scho  rowd^  him  in  a  cake  of  lead,  25 

Bade  him  He  stil  and  sleip. 
Scho  cast  him  in  a  deip  draw-well, 

Was  fifty  fadom  deip. 

Quhan  bells  wer  rung,  and  mass  was  sung, 

And  every  lady  went  hame  :  30 

Than  ilka  lady  had  her  yong  sonne, 
Bot  lady  Helen  had  nane. 

Scho  rowd  hir  mantil  hir  about. 

And  sair  sair  gan  she  weip  : 
And  she  ran  into  the  Jewis  castel,  3S 

Quhan  they  wer  all  asleip. 

My  bonny  sir  Hew,  my  pretty  sir  Hew, 

I  pray  thee  to  me  speik. 
"  O  lady,  rinn  to  the  deip  draw-well, 

Gin^  ye  your  sonne  wad  seik."  40 

Lady  Helen  ran  to  the  deip  draw-well, 

And  knelt  upon  her  kne  : 
My  bonny  sir  Hew,  an^  ye  be  here, 

I  pray  thee  speik  to  me. 

*'  The  lead  is  wondrous  heavy,  mither,  45 

The  well  is  wondrous  deip, 
A  keen  pen-knife  sticks  in  my  hert, 

A  word  I  dounae^  speik. 

Gae  hame,  gae  hame,  my  mither  deir. 

Fetch  me  my  windling  sheet,  50 

And  at  the  back  o'  Mirry-land  toun. 

Its  thair  we  twa  fall  meet." 

*  *  *  * 

\}  she  rolled.  ^  if.  ^  jf  4  cannot] 


S/R    CAULINE.  61 


IV. 
SIR   CAULINE. 

'HIS  old  romantic  tale  was  preserved  in  the  Editor's 
^^^j.  folio  MS.  but  in  so  very  defective  and  mutilated  a 
^^^  condition  (not  from  any  chasm  in  the  MS.  but  from 
great  omission  in  the  transcript,  probably  copied 
from  the  faulty  recitation  of  some  illiterate  minstrell),  and  the 
whole  appeared  so  far  short  of  the  perfection  it  seemed  to  de- 
serve, that  the  Editor  was  tempted  to  add  several  stanzas  in  the 
first  part,  and  still  more  in  the  second,  to  connect  and  compleat 
the  story  in  the  manner  wliich  appeared  to  him  most  interesting 
and  affecting. 

There  is  something  peculiar  in  the  metre  of  this  old  ballad  :  it 
is  not  unusual  to  meet  with  redundant  stanzas  of  six  lines  ;  but  the 
occasional  insertion  of  a  double  third  or  fourth  line,  as  ver.  31,  &c. 
is  an  irregularity  I  do  not  remember  to  have  seen  elsewhere. 

It  may  be  proper  to  inform  the  reader  before  he  comes  to  Pt.  ii. 
v.  no,  III,  that  the  Round  Table  was  not  peculiar  to  the  reign  of 
K.  Arthur,  but  was  common  in  all  the  ages  of  chivalry.  The  pro- 
claiming a  great  turnament  (probably  with  some  peculiar  solem- 
nities) was  called  "  holding  a  Round  Table."  Dugdale  tells  us, 
that  the  great  baron  Roger  de  Mortimer  "  having  procured  the 
honour  of  knighthood  to  be  conferred  'on  his  three  sons'  by 
K.  Edw.  I.  he,  at  his  own  costs,  caused  a  toumeament  to  be  held 
at  Kenilworth ;  where  he  sumptuously  entertained  an  hundred 
knights,  and  as  many  ladies,  for  three  days ;  the  like  whereof  was 
never  before  in  England  ;  and  there  began  the  Round  Table,  (so 
called  by  reason  that  the  place  wherein  they  practised  those 
feats  was  environed  with  a  strong  wall  made  in  a  round  form  :) 
And  upon  the  fourth  day,  the  golden  lion,  in  sign  of  triumph,  being 
yielded  to  him ;  he  carried  it  (with  all  the  company)  to  Warwick." 
— It  may  further  be  added,  that  Matthew  Paris  frequently  calls 
justs  and  turnaments  Hastiludia  Men  sec  Rotundcc. 

As  to  what  will  be  observed  in  this  ballad  of  the  art  of  healing 
being  practised  by  a  young  princess ;  it  is  no  more  than  what  is 
usual  in  all  the  old  romances,  and  was  conformable  to  real  man- 
ners :  it  being  a  practice  derived  from  the  earliest  times  among 
all  the  Gothic  and  Celtic  nations,  for  women,  even  of  the  highest 
rank,  to  exercise  the  art  of  surgery.  In  the  Northern  C'hronirlos 
we  always  find  the  young  damsels  stanching  the  wounds  of  their 


62  SIR    CAULINE. 

lovers,  and  the  wives  those  of  their  husbands.*  And  even  so  late 
as  the  time  of  Q.  Elizabeth,  it  is  mentioned  among  the  accom- 
plishments of  the  ladies  of  her  court,  that  the  "  eldest  of  them  are 
skilful  in  surgery."  See  Harrison's  Description  of  England,  pre- 
fixed to  Hollinshed's  Chronicle,  ^^c. 

[This  story  of  Sir  Caidine  furnishes  one  of  the  most  flagrant 
instances  of  Percy's  manipulation  of  his  authorities.  In  the  fol- 
lowing poem  all  the  verses  which  are  due  to  Percy's  invention  are 
placed  between  brackets,  but  the  whole  has  been  so  much  altered 
by  him  that  it  has  been  found  necessary  to  reprint  the  original 
from  the  folio  MS.  at  the  end  in  order  that  readers  may  compare 
the  two.  Percy  put  into  his  version  several  new  incidents  and 
altered  the  ending,  by  which  means  he  was  able  to  dilute  the 
201  lines  of  the  MS.  copy  into  392  of  his  own.  There  was  no 
necessity  for  this  perversion  of  the  original,  because  the  story  is 
there  complete,  and  moreover  Percy  did  not  sufficiently  indicate 
the  great  changes  he  had  made,  for  although  nearly  every  verse  is 
altered  he  only  noted  one  trivial  difference  of  reading,  viz.  auke- 
ward  for  backward  (v.  109). 

Motherwell  reprinted  this  ballad  in  his  Minstrelsy,  and  in  his 
prefatory  note  he  made  the  following  shrewd  guess,  which  we  now 
know  to  be  a  correct  one: — "We  suspect  too  that  the  ancient 
ballad  had  a  less  melancholy  catastrophe,  and  that  the  brave  Syr 
Cauline,  after  his  combat  with  the  '  hend  Soldan'  derived  as 
much  benefit  from  the  leechcraft  of  fair  Cristabelle  as  he  did  after 
winning  the  Eldridge  sword."  Professor  Child  has  expressed  the 
same  view  in  his  note  to  the  ballad. 

Buchan  printed  a  ballad  entitled  King  Malcolm  and  Sir  Colvln, 
which  is  more  Hke  the  original  than  Percy's  version,  but  Mr.  Hales 
is  of  opinion  that  this  was  one  of  that  collector's  fabrications.] 


THE  FIRST  PART. 

Ireland,  ferr  over  the  sea, 
There  dwelleth  a  bonnye  kinge  ; 
And  with  him  a  yong  and  comlye  knighte, 
Men  call  him  syr  Cauline. 


*  See  Northern  Antiquities,  &'c.  vol.  i.  p.  318;   vol.  ii.  p.  100. 
Memoires  de  la  Chevalcrie,  torn.  i.  p.  44. 


J 


lO 


S//^    CAULINE.  6 

The  kinge  had  a  ladye  to  his  daughter, 

In  fashyon  she  hath  no  peere  ; 
And  princely  wightes  that  ladye  wooed 

To  be  theyr  wedded  feere.  *] 

Syr  CauHne  loveth  her  best  of  all, 

But  nothing  durst  he  saye  ; 
Ne  descreeve'^  his  counsayl  to  no  man, 

But  deerlye  he  lovde  this  may.'' 

Till  on  a  daye  it  so  beffell, 

Great  dill^  to  him  was  dight  ;^ 
The  maydens  love  removde  his  mynd,  15 

To  care-bed  went  the  kniijhte. 

One  while  he  spred  his  armes  him  fro, 

One  while  he  spred  them  nye  : 
And  aye  !  but  I  winne  that  ladyes  love. 

For  dole^  now  I  mun^  dye.  20 

And  whan  our  parish-masse  was  done, 

Our  kinge  was  bowne^  to  dyne  : 
He  sayes.  Where  is  syr  Cauline, 

That  is  wont  to  serve  the  wyne  ? 

Then  aunswcrde  him  a  courteous  knighte,  25 

And  fast  his  handes  gan  wringe  : 
Sir  Cauline  is  sicke,  and  like  to  dye 

Without  a  good  leechinge." 

Fetche  me  downe  my  daughter  deere, 

She  is  a  leeche  fulle  fine  :  30 

Goe  take  him  doughe,^°  and  the  baken  bread, 

\}  mate.  ^  describe.  ^  maiden.  "•  grief. 

*  wrought.        '''  sorrow.  '^  must.         ^  made  ready. 

^  medical  care. 

^^^  This  is  an  odd  misreading  of  Percy's.  The  MS.  has  "  I  and 
take  you  doe  and  the  baken  bread,"  where  doe  is  the  auxihary  verb 
and  the  a«^  redundant.] 


64  SIR    CAULINE. 

I. 

And  serve  him  with  the  wyne  soe  red ; 
Lothe  I  were  him  to  tine/ 

Fair  Christabelle  to  his  chaumber  goes, 

Her  may  dens  followyng  nye  :  ss 

O  well,  she  sayth,  how  doth  my  lord  ? 

0  sicke,  thou  fayr  ladye. 

Nowe  ryse  up  wightlye,^  man,  for  shame, 

Never  lye  soe  cowardlee ; 
For  it  is  told  in  my  fathers  halle,  40 

You  dye  for  love  of  mee. 

Fayre  ladye,  it  is  for  your  love 

That  all  this  dill  I  drye  •? 
For  if  you  wold  comfort  me  with  a  kisse. 
Then  were  I  brought  from  bale  to  blisse,  45 

No  lenger  wold  I  lye. 

[Sir  knighte,  my  father  is  a  kinge, 

1  am  his  onlye  heire  ; 

Alas !  and  well  you  knowe,  syr  knighte, 

I  never  can  be  youre  fere.  5° 

O  ladye,  thou  art  a  kinges  daughter, 

And  I  am  not  thy  peere. 
But  let  me  doe  some  deedes  of  armes 

To  be  your  bacheleere.* 

Some  deedes  of  armes  if  thou  wilt  doe,  55 

My  bacheleere  to  bee, 
(  But  ever  and  aye  my  heart  wold  rue, 

Giff^  harm  shold  happe  to  thee,)] 

Upon  Eldridge^  hill  there  groweth  a  thorne. 
Upon  the  mores  brodinge  ;^  60 


[1  lose.  ^  swiftly.  ^  pain  I  suffer.  "^  knight. 

5  if.  ^  spectral,  lonesome.  ^  wide  moors.] 


S/R    CAULINE.  65 

And  dare  ye,  syr  knighte,  wake  there  all  nighte 
Until  the  fayre  morninge  ? 

For  the  Eldridge  knighte,  so  mickle'  of  mighte, 

Will  examine  you  beforne  :"^ 
And  never  man  bare  life  awaye,  65 

But  he  did  him  scath'  and  scorne. 

[That  knighte  he  is  a  foul  paynim/ 

And  large  of  limb  and  bone  ; 
And  but  if  heaven  may  be  thy  speede, 

Thy  life  it  is  but  gone.  70 

Nowe  on  the  Eldridge  hilles  He  walke,* 

For  thy  sake,  fair  ladie  ;] 
And  He  either  bring  you  a  ready  token, 

Or  He  never  more  you  see. 

The  lady  is  gone  to  her  own  chaumbere,  75 

Her  maydens  following  bright : 
[Syr  Cauline  lope^  from  care-bed  soone, 
And  to  the  Eldridge  hills  is  gone,] 

F'or  to  wake  there  all  nigrht. 

Unto  midnicrht,  that  the  moone  did  rise,  80 

He  walked  up  and  downe ; 
Then  a  lightsome  bugle  heard  he  blowe 

Over  the  bents  ^'  soe  browne  ; 
Quoth  hee,  If  cryance  come  tilF  my  heart, 

I  am  ffar  from  any  good  towne.  85 

And  soone  he  spyde  on  the  mores  so  broad, 

A  furyous  wight  and  fell  f 
A  ladye  bright  his  brydle  led. 

Clad  in  a  fayre  kyrtell : 

*   Pcrliaps  loakr,  as  abo\'C  in  vcr.  61. 

['  great.         '^  before.         ^  harm.         *  pagan.         ''  leaped. 
"  ficld.s.  '  if  fear  rome  to.  **  fierce.] 


66  SIR    CAULINE. 

And  soe  fast  he  called  on  syr  Cauline,  90 

0  man,  I  rede'  thee  flye, 

For  '  but '  if  cryance  comes  till  thy  heart, 

1  weene  but  thou  mun  dye. 

He  sayth,  '  No '  cryance  comes  till  my  heart, 
Nor,  in  faith,  I  wyll  not  flee  ;  95 

For,  cause  thou  minged"^  not  Christ  before, 
The  less  me  dreadeth  thee. 

[The  Eldridge  knighte,  he  pricked  his  steed  ; 

Syr  Cauline  bold  abode  : 
Then  either  shooke  his  trustye  speare,]  100 

And  the  timber  these  two  children*  bare 

Soe  soone  in  sunder  slode.^ 

Then  tooke  they  out  theyr  two  good  swordes. 

And  layden^  on  full  faste, 
[Till  helme  and  hawberke,  mail  and  sheelde,       105 

They  all  were  well-nye  brast.^] 

The  Eldridge  knight  was  mickle  of  might. 

And  stiffe  in  stower^  did  stande, 
But  syr  Cauline  with  a  '  backward '  stroke, 

He  smote  off  his  right  hand  ;  no 

That  soone  he  with  paine  and  lacke  of  bloud 

Fell  downe  on  that  lay-land.^ 

[Then  up  syr  Cauline  lift  his  brande 

All  over  his  head  so  hye  : 
And  here  I  sweare  by  the  holy  roode,  115 

Nowe,  caytiffe,  thou  shalt  dye. 

Ver.  109,  aukeward.    MS. 

*  /.  e.  Knights.     See  the  Preface  to  Child  Waters,  vol.  iii. 

[1  advise.  ^  mentioned.  ^  gpijj.^  4  j^jj^ 

*  burst.  ^  battle.  "^  green  sward.] 


S/J^    CAULINE.  67 

Then  up  and  came  that  ladye  brighte, 

Fast  wrinoinor  of  her  hande  : 
For  the  maydens  love,  that  most  you  love, 

Withold  that  dcadlye  brande  :  120 

For  the  maydens  love,  that  most  you  love. 

Now  smyte  no  more  I  praye  ; 
And  aye  whatever  thou  wilt,  my  lord, 

He  shall  thy  hests'  obaye. 

Now  sweare  to  mee,  thou  Eldridge  kni'ohte,        125 

And  here  on  this  lay-land. 
That  thou  wilt  believe  on  Christ  his  layc,^ 

And  therto  plight  thy  hand  : 

And  that  thou  never  on  Eldrido^e  come 

To  sporte,  gamon,'  or  playe  :  n© 

And  that  thou  here  give  up  thy  armes 
Until  thy  dying  daye. 

The  Eldridge  knighte  gave  up  his  armes 

With  many  a  sorrowfulle  sighe  ; 
And  sware  to  obey  syr  Caulines  hest,  135 

Till  the  tyme  that  he  shold  dye.] 

And  he  then  up  and  the  Eldridge  knighte 

Sett  him  in  his  saddle  anone. 
And  the  Eldridge  knighte  and  his  ladye 

To  theyr  castle  are  they  gone.  140 

[Then  he  tooke  up  the  bloudy  hand, 
That  was  so  larg-e  of  bone. 


'fe 


And  on  it  he  founde  five  rincfes  of  cfold 


f> 


Of  knic^htes  that  had  be  slone.^ 


-*> 


Then  he  tooke  up  the  Eldridge  sworde,  us 

As  hard  as  any  Hint : 

[»  commands.  "^  law.  •'  ri;,'hl.  '  slain.] 


68  SIR    CAULINE. 

And  he  tooke  off  those  ringes  five, 

As  bright  as  fyre  and  brent- 
Home  then  pricked^  syr  CauHne 

As  Hght  as  leafe  on  tree  :  150 

I-wys  he  neither  stint  ne  blanne,*'' 

Till  he  his  ladye  see. 

Then  downe  he  knelt  upon  his  knee 

Before  that  lady  gay  : 
O  ladye,  I  have  bin  on  the  Eldridge  hills  :      155 

These  tokens  I  bring  away. 

Now  welcome,  welcome,  syr  Cauline, 

Thrice  welcome  unto  mee, 
For  now  I  perceive  thou  art  a  true  knighte, 

Of  valour  bolde  and  free.  160 

O  ladye,  I  am  thy  own  true  knighte. 

Thy  hests  for  to  obaye  : 
And  mought  I  hope  to  winne  thy  love ! 

Ne  more  his  tonge  colde  say. 

The  ladye  blushed  scarlette  redde,  165 

And  fette'^  a  gentill  sighe  : 
Alas  !  syr  knight,  how  may  this  bee. 

For  my  degree's  soe  highe  ? 

But  sith  thou  hast  hight,*  thou  comely  youth. 
To  be  my  batchilere,  170 

He  promise  if  thee  I  may  not  wedde 
I  will  have  none  other  fere.^ 

Then  shee  held  forthe  her  lilly-white  hand 

Towards  that  knighte  so  free  ; 
He  gave  to  it  one  gentill  kisse,  175 

['  spurred.  ^  neither  stopped  nor  lingered.  ^  fetched. 

■*  since  thou  hast  engaged.  '''  mate.] 


SIR    CAULINE.  69 

His  heart  was  brought  from  bale  to  blisse, 
The  teares  sterte^  from  his  ee. 

But  keep  my  counsayl,  syr  CauRne, 

Ne  let  no  man  it  knowe  ; 
For  and  ever  my  father  sholde  it  ken,  180 

I  wot  he  wolde  us  sloe."^ 

From  that  daye  forthe  that  ladye  fayre 

Lovde  syr  Cauhne  the  knighte  : 
From  that  daye  forthe  he  only  joyde 

Whan  shee  was  in  his  sieht. 


?:>' 


185 


Yea  and  oftentimes  they  mette 

Within  a  fayre  arboure, 
Where  they  in  love  and  sweet  daliaunce 

Past  manye  a  pleasaunt  houre.] 

*^*  In  this  conclusion  of  the  First  Part,  and  at  the  beginning 
of  the  Second,  the  reader  will  observe  a  resemblance  to  the  story 
of  Sigismmtda  and  Guiscard,  as  told  by  Boccace  and  Dryden. 
See  the  latter's  description  of  the  lovers  meeting  in  the  cave ;  and 
those  beautiful  lines,  which  contain  a  reflection  so  like  this  of  our 
poet,  "  everye  7ohitc,'^  &c.,  viz. : 

"  But  as  extremes  are  short  of  ill  and  good. 
And  tides  at  highest  mark  regorge  their  flood ; 
So  Fate,  that  could  no  more  improve  their  joy, 
Took  a  malicious  pleasure  to  destroy 
Tancred,  who  fondly  loved,"  &c. 

[1  started.  ^  I  know  he  would  sla^  us.] 


70  SIR    CAULINE. 


PART  THE  SECOND. 

|VERYE  white  will  have  its  blacke, 
And  everye  sweete  its  sowre  : 
I^HI   This  founde  the  ladye  Christabelk 
In  an  untimely  howre. 

For  so  it  befelle,  as  syr  Cauline  5 

Was  with  that  ladye  faire, 
The  kinge  her  father  walked  forthe 

To  take  the  evenyng  aire  : 

And  into  the  arboure  as  he  went 

To  rest  his  wearye  feet,  lo 

He  found  his  daughter  and  syr  Cauhne 

There  sette  in  daliaunce  sweet. 

The  kinge  hee  sterted  forthe,  i-wys,^ 

And  an  angrye  man  was  hee  : 
Nowe,  traytoure,  thou  shalt  hange  or  drawe,         is 

And  re  we  shall  thy  ladle. 

Then  forthe  syr  Cauline  he  was  ledde, 

And  throwne  in  dungeon  deepe  : 
And  the  ladye  into  a  towre  so  hye. 

There  left  to  wayle  and  weepe.  20 

The  queene  she  was  syr  Caulines  friend, 

And  to  the  kinge  sayd  shee  : 
I  praye  you  save  syr  Caulines  life. 

And  let  him  banisht  bee. 

Now,  dame,  that  traitor  shall  be  sent  25 

Across  the  salt  sea  fome  : 
But  here  I  will  make  thee  a  band,^ 
If  ever  he  come  within  this  land, 

A  foule  deathe  is  his  doome. 

\}  verily.  2  bond  or  covenant.] 


SIR    CAULINE.  71 

All  woe-begone  was  that  gentil  knight  30 

To  parte  from  his  ladye  ; 
And  many  a  time  he  sighed  sore, 

And  cast  a  wistfulle  eye  : 
Faire  Christabelle,  from  thee  to  parte, 

Farre  lever^  had  I  dye.  3S 

Faire  Christabelle,  that  ladye  bright, 

Was  had  forthe  of  the  towre  ; 
But  ever  shee  droopeth  in  her  minde, 
As  nipt  by  an  ungentle  winde 

Doth  some  faire  lillye  flowre.  40 

And  ever  shee  doth  lament  and  weepe 

To  tint^  her  lover  soe  : 
Syr  Cauline,  thou  little  think'st  on  mee, 

But  I  will  still  be  true. 

« 

Manye  a  kynge,  and  manye  a  duke,  45 

And  lorde  of  high  degree. 
Did  sue  to  that  fayre  ladye  of  love  ; 

But  never  shee  wolde  them  nee."^ 

When  manye  a  daye  was  past  and  gone, 

Ne  comforte  she  colde  finde,  so 

The  kynge  proclaimed  a  tourneament, 
To  cheere  his  dauijhters  mind  : 

And  there  came  lords,  and  there  came  knights, 

Fro  manye  a  farre  countrye. 
To  break  a  spere  for  theyr  ladycs  love  55 

Before  that  faire  ladye. 

And  many  a  ladye  there  was  sette 

In  purple  and  in  palle  :^ 
But  faire  Christabelle  soe  woe-begone 

Was  the  fay  rest  of  them  all.  60 

\}  ratlier.  '^  lose. 

^  nigh.  ^  fine  cloth.  | 


72  S/J^    CAULINE. 

Then  manye  a  knighte  was  mickle  of  might 

Before  his  ladye  gaye  ; 
But  a  stranger  wight,  whom  no  man  knewe, 

He  wan  the  prize  eche  daye. 

His  acton^  it  was  all  of  blacke,  65 

His  hewberke,*"^  and  his  sheelde, 
Ne  noe  man  wist  whence  he  did  come, 
Ne  noe  man  knewe  where  he  did  gone, 

When  they  came  from  the  feelde. 

And  now  three  days  were  prestlye^  past  70 

In  feates  of  chivalrye, 
When  lo  upon  the  fourth  morninge 

A  sorrowfulle  sight  they  see. 

A  hugye  giaunt  stiffe  and  starke, 

All  foule  of  limbe  and  lere  ;*  75 

Two  goggling  eyen  like  fire  farden,^ 

A  mouthe  from  eare  to  eare. 

Before  him  came  a  dwarffe  full  lowe, 

That  waited  on  his  knee, 
And  at  his  backe  five  heads  he  bare,  80 

All  wan  and  pale  of  blee.^ 

Sir,  quoth  the  dwarffe,  and  louted^  lowe, 

Behold  that  hend«  Soldain  ! 
Behold  these  heads  I  beare  with  me  ! 

They  are  kings  which  he  hath  slain.  85 

The  Eldridge  knight  is  his  own  cousine. 
Whom  a  knight  of  thine  hath  shent  :^ 

And  hee  is  come  to  avenge  his  wrong. 

And  to  thee,  all  thy  knightes  among. 

Defiance  here  hath  sent.  90 

[^  leather  jacket.     ^  (-gat  of  mail.     ^  quickly.     "*  countenance. 
^  flashed.     ^  complexion.     ''  bowed.     ^  courteous.     ^  injured.] 


S/R    CAULINE.  73 

But  yette  he  will  appease  his  wrath 

Thy  daughters  love  to  winne  : 
And  but  thou  yeelde  him  that  fayre  mayd, 

Thy  halls  and  towers  must  brenne.^ 

Thy  head,  syr  king,  must  goe  with  mee  ;  95 

Or  else  thy  daughter  deere  ; 
Or  else  within  these  lists  soe  broad 

Thou  must  finde  him  a  peere.]"^ 

The  king  he  turned  him  round  aboute, 

And  in  his  heart  was  woe  :  100 

Is  there  never  a  knighte  of  my  round  table, 
This  matter  will  underofoe  ? 

[Is  there  never  a  knighte  amongst  yee  all 
Will  fight  for  my  daughter  and  mee  ? 

Whoever  will  fight  yon  grimme  soldan,  105 

Right  fair  his  meede  shall  bee. 

For  hee  shall  have  my  broad  lay-lands. 

And  of  my  crowne  be  heyre  ; 
And  he  shall  winne  fayre  Christabelle 

To  be  his  wedded  fere.  no 

But  every  knighte  of  his  round  table 

Did  stand  both  still  and  pale  ; 
For  whenever  they  lookt  on  the  grim  soldan, 

It  made  their  hearts  to  quail. 

All  woe-begone  was  that  fayre  ladye,  us 

When  she  sawe  no  helpe  was  nye  : 
She  cast  her  thought  on  her  owne  true-love. 

And  the  teares  gusht  from  her  eye. 

Up  then  sterte  the  stranger  knighte, 

Sayd,  Ladye,  be  not  affrayd  :  120 

He  fight  for  thee  with  this  grimme  soldan, 

Thoughe  he  be  unmacklye  '  made. 

\}  bum.  2  equal.  ^  mis-shapen.] 


74  SIR    CAULINE. 

And  if  thou  wilt  lend  me  the  Eldridge  sworde, 

That  lyeth  within  thy  bowre, 
I  truste  in  Christe  for  to  slay  this  fiende  125 

Thoughe  he  be  stiff  in  stowre. 

Goe  fetch  him  downe  the  Eldridge  sworde, 

The  kinge  he  cryde,  with  speede  : 
Nowe  heaven  assist  thee,  courteous  knighte ; 

My  daughter  is  thy  meede/  130 

The  gyaunt  he  stepped  into  the  lists, 

And  sayd,  Awaye,  awaye  : 
I  sweare,  as  I  am  the  hend  soldan. 

Thou  lettest  '^  me  here  all  daye. 

Then  forthe  the  stranger  knight  he  came  135 

In  his  blacke  armoure  dight : 
The  ladye  sighed  a  gentle  sighe, 

"  That  this  were  my  true  knighte !  " 

And  nowe  the  gyaunt  and  knighte  be  mett 

Within  the  lists  soe  broad  ;  140 

And  now  with  swordes  soe  sharpe  of  Steele, 
They  gan  to  lay  on  load.^ 

The  soldan  strucke  the  knighte  a  stroke. 

That  made  him  reele  asyde  ; 
Then  woe-begone  was  that  fayre  ladye,  145 

And  thrice  she  deeply  sighde. 

The  soldan  strucke  a  second  stroke, 

And  made  the  bloude  to  flowe  : 
All  pale  and  wan  was  that  ladye  fayre, 

And  thrice  she  wept  for  woe.  150 

The  soldan  strucke  a  third  fell  stroke, 
Which  brought  the  kniofhte  on  his  knee : 

Sad  sorrow  pierced  that  ladyes  heart, 
And  she  shriekt  loud  shriekings  three. 

\}  reward.  ^  detainest.  ^  give  blows.] 


SIR    CAULINE.  75 

The  knighte  he  leapt  upon  his  feete,  155 

All  recklesse  of  the  pain  : 
Quoth  hee,  But^  heaven  be  now  my  speedc, 

Or  else'^  I  shall  be  slaine. 

He  grasped  his  sworde  with  mayne  and  mighte, 
And  spying  a  secrette  part,  160 

He  drave  it  into  the  soldan's  syde, 
And  pierced  him  to  the  heart. 

Then  all  the  people  gave  a  shoute, 

Whan  they  sawe  the  soldan  falle  : 
The  ladye  wept,  and  thanked  Christ,  165 

That  had  reskewed  her  from  thrall.^ 

And  nowe  the  kino-e  with  all  his  barons 

Rose  uppe  from  offe  his  seate. 
And  downe  he  stepped  into  the  listes, 

That  curteous  knighte  to  greete.  170 

But  he  for  payne  and  lacke  of  bloude 

Was  fallen  into  a  swounde, 
And  there  all  walteringe  in  his  gore, 

Lay  lifelesse  on  the  grounde. 

Come  downe,  come  downe,  my  daughter  deare,  175 

Thou  art  a  leeche  of  skille  ; 
Farre  lever  ^  had  I  lose  halfe  my  landes. 

Than  this  good  knighte  sholde  spille.^ 

Downe  then  steppeth  that  fayre  ladye. 

To  helpe  him  if  she  maye  ;  iSo 

But  when  she  did  his  beavere  raise, 

It  is  my  life,  my  lord,  she  sayes. 
And  shriekte  and  swound  awaye. 

Sir  Cauline  juste  lifte  up  his  eyes 

When  he  heard  his  ladye  crye,  185 

['  unless. 

2  "  or  else,"  redundant  from  a  misunderstanding  of  the  word  but. 
^  captivity.  '  rather.  '"  come  to  harm.) 


76  S/J^    CAULINE. 

i 

O  ladye,  I  am  thine  owne  true  love ; 

For  thee  I  wisht  to  dye.  I 

Then  giving  her  one  partinge  looke, 

He  closed  his  eyes  in  death, 
Ere  Christabelle,  that  ladye  milde,  190 

Begane  to  drawe  her  breathe. 

But  when  she  found  her  comelye  knighte 

Indeed  was  dead  and  gone, 
She  layde  her  pale  cold  cheeke  to  his, 

And  thus  she  made  her  moane.  195 

O  staye,  my  deare  and  onlye  lord, 

For  mee  thy  faithfulle  feere  ;  ^ 
'Tis  meet  that  I  shold  followe  thee. 

Who  hast  bought  my  love  soe  deare. 

Then  fayntinge  in  a  deadlye  swoune,  200 

And  with  a  deepe-fette  ^  sighe, 
That  burst  her  gentle  hearte  in  twayne, 

Fayre  Christabelle  did  dye.] 


[f^^^^HE  following  is  the  original  ballad  from  which  Percy  con- 
Iv^lly^  cocted  his  own.  It  is  reprinted  from  Bishop  Percy  i  Folio 
^^i^^  MS.,ed.  Hales  and  Fiirtiivall,  vol.  iii.  p.  i. 

lesus  :  lord  mickle  of  might, 

that  dyed  fifor  vs  on  the  roode 
to  maintaine  vs  in  all  our  right, 

that  loues  true  English  blood. 

ffor  by  a  ILnight  I  say  my  song,  -  5 

was  bold  &  ffull  hardye  ; 
S/r  Robert  Briuse  wold  fforth  to  fhght 

in-to  Ireland  ouer  the  sea ; 

['  mate.  2  deep-drawn.] 


S/J^    CAULINE.  77 


10 


&  in  t}ia\  land  dwells  a  king 

w^/ch  ouer  all  does  beare  the  bell, 
&  w/th  him  there  dwelled  a  curteous  K///>//t, 

men  call  him  S/r  Cawline. 

And  he  hath  a  Ladyc  to  his  daughter, 

of  ftashyon  shee  hath  noe  peere  ; 
Y^nighh,  &  lordes  they  woed  her  both,  1 5 

trusted  to  haue  beene  her  peere. 

S/r  Cawline  loues  her  best  of  one, 

but  nothing  durst  hee  say 
to  discreeue  his  councell  to  noe  man, 

but  deerlye  loued  this  mayd.  20 

till  itt  beftell  vpon  a  day, 

great  dill  to  him  was  dight ; 
the  maydens  loue  remoued  his  mind, 

to  care  bed  went  the  Knight ; 

&  one  while  he  spread  his  armes  him  ffroe,  25 

&  cryed  soe  pittyouslye 
"  ffor  the  maydens  loue  thaX.  I  haue  most  minde, 

this  day  may  comfort  mee, 
or  else  ere  noone  I  shalbe  dead  ! " 

thus  can  S/r  Cawline  say.  30 

when  our  p^rrish  masse  thai  itt  was  done, 

&  our  king  was  bowne  to  dine, 
he  sayes,  "  where  is  S/r  Cawline 

thaX.  was  wont  to  serue  me  w/th  ale  and  wine  ? 

but  then  answered  a  curteous  Y^iiighX.  35 

ffast  -wTinginge  his  hands, 
"  S/r  Cawlines  sicke,  &  like  to  be  dead 

w/thout  and  a  good  leedginge." 

"  ffeitch  yee  downe  my  daughter  deerc, 

shee  is  a  Leeche  fifull  ffine  ;  40 

I,  and  take  you  doe  &  the  baken  breads 
and  eene  on  the  wine  soe  red, 
&  looke  no  day[  njtinesse  ffor  him  to  deare, 

for  ffuU  loth  I  wold  him  teene." 

this  Ladye  is  gone  to  his  chamber,  45 

her  maydens  ffollowing  Nye, 
"  ()  well,"  shee  sayth,  "  how  doth  my  T-ord?" 

"  O  sicke  ! "  againe  saith  hee. 


78  SIJ^    CAULINE. 

'*  I,  but  rise  vp  wightlye,  man,  for  shame  ! 

neuer  lye  soe  cowardlye  here  !  50 

itt  is  told  in  my  ffathers  hall, 

ffor  my  loue  you  will  dye." 

"  itt  is  ffor  yma  Loue,  ffayre  Ladye, 

tha\.  all  this  dill  I  drye. 
ffor  if  you  wold  comfort  me  w/th  a  Kisse,  55 

then  were  I  brought  ffrom  bale  to  blisse ; 

noe  longer  here  wold  I  lye." 

"  alas  !  soe  well  you  know,  S/r  Y^nighi, 

I  cannott  bee  joux  peere." 
"  ffor  some  deeds  of  armes  ffaine  wold  I  doe  60 

to  be  yo?/r  Bacheeleere." 

"  vpon  Eldridge  hill  there  growes  a  thorne 

vpon  the  mores  brodinge  ; 
&  wold  you,  S/r  Knight,  wake  there  all  night 

to  day  of  the  other  Morninge  ?  65 

"  ffor  the  Eldrige  Y^iitg  thai  is  mickle  of  Might 

will  examine  you  beforne  ; 
&  there  was  neuer  man  thai  bare  his  liffe  away 

since  the  day  that  I  was  borne." 

"  but  I  will  ffor  your  sake,  ffaire  Ladye,  70 

walke  on  the  bents  [soe]  browne, 
&  lie  either  bring  you  a  readye  token 

or  He  neuer  come  to  you  againe." 

but  this  Ladye  is  gone  to  her  Chamber, 

her  Maydens  ffollowing  bright ;  75 

&  S/r  Cawlins  gone  to  the  mores  soe  broad, 

ffor  to  Avake  there  all  night. 

vnto  midnight  they  Moone  did  rise, 

he  walked  vp  and  downe, 
&  a  lightsome  bugle  then  heard  he  blow  80 

ouer  the  bents  soe  browne. 
saies  hee,  "  and  if  cryance  come  vntill  my  hart, 
I  am  ffarr  ffrom  any  good  towne  ; " 

&  he  spyed  ene  a  litle  him  by, 

a  ffuryous  King  and  a  ffell,  85 

&  a  ladye  bright  his  brydle  led, 

that  seemlye  itt  was  to  see ; 


SIR    CAULINE.  79 

&  soe  fast  hee  called  vpon  S/r  Cawline, 

*'  Oh  man,  I  redd  thee  fflye  ! 
ffor  if  cryance  come  vntill  thy  hart,  90 

I  am  a-feard  least  thou  mun  dye." 

he  sayes,  "  [no]  cryance  comes  to  my  hart, 

nor  ifaith  I  fteare  not  thee  ; 
ffor  because  thou  minged  not  christ  before. 

Thee  lesse  me  dreadeth  thee."  95 

but  S/r  Cawline  he  shooke  a  speare, 

the  '^ing  was  bold,  and  abode, 
&  the  timber  these  2  Children  bore 

soe  soone  in  sunder  slode, 
ffor  they  tooke  &  2  good  swords,  100 

&  they  Layden  on  good  Loade. 

but  the  Elridge  l^ing  was  mickle  of  might, 

&  stiffly  to  the  ground  did  stand ; 
but  S/r  Cawline  w/th  an  aukeward  stroke 

he  brought  him  ftrora  his  hand,  105 

I,  &  fflying  ouer  his  head  soe  hye, 

ffell  downe  of  thai  Lay  land  : 

&  his  lady  stood  a  litle  thereby, 

flast  ringing  her  hands  : 
"  for  they  maydens  loue  that  you  haue  most  meed,  no 

smyte  you  my  Lord  no  more, 

&  heest  neu(?r  come  vpon  Eldrige  [hill] 

him  to  sport,  gamon,  or  play, 
&  to  meete  noe  man  of  middle  earth, 

&  tluiX.  Hues  on  christs  his  lay.  1 15 

but  he  then  vp,  and  tha\.  Eldryge  Y^ing 

sett  him  in  his  sadle  againe, 
&  t}ia\.  ?Lldryge  Y^ing  &  his  Ladye 

to  their  castle  are  they  gone. 

&  hee  tooke  then  vp  &  thai  Eldryge  sword  120 

as  hard  as  any  fflynt, 
&  soe  he  did  those  ringes  5, 

harder  than  ffyer,  and  brent. 

ffirst  he  i)rrsented  to  the  K//;^^s  daughter 

they  hand,  &  then  they  sword.  '25 

"  Init  a  serrett  buffett  you  haue  him  giuen, 

the  Y^ing  &  the  crowne  ! "  she  sayd. 
*'  I,  but  34  stripes 

corncn  beside  the  rood." 


8o  SIR    CAULINE. 

&  a  Gyant  that  was  both  stifife  [&]  strong,  1 30 

he  lope  now  them  amonge, 
&  vpon  his  squier  5  heads  he  bare, 

vnmackley  made  was  hee. 

&  he  dranke  then  on  the  Kz/z^s  wine, 

&  hee  put  the  cup  in  his  sleeue;  135 

&  all  the  trembled  &  were  wan 

ftbr  feare  he  shold  them  greeffe. 

"  He  tell  thee  mine  Arrand,  K//zf,"  he  sayes, 

"  mine  errand  what  I  doe  heere ;  | 

ffor  I  will  bren  thy  temples  hye,  140  | 

or  He  haue  thy  daughter  deere  ; 
in,  or  else  vpon,  yond  more  soe  brood 

thou  shalt  ffind  mee  a  ppeare." 

i 
the  Y^ing  he  turned  him  round  about, 

(Lor^,  in  his  heart  he  was  woe  !),  145 

says,  "  is  there  noe  Y^night  of  the  round  table 

this  matter  will  vndergoe  ? 

"  I,  &  hee  shall  haue  my  broad  Lands, 

&  keepe  them  well  his  line ; 
I,  and  soe  hee  shall  my  daughter  deere,  150 

to  be  his  weded  wiffe." 

&  then  stood  vp  S/r  CawHne 

his  o\vne  errand  ffor  to  say  : 
"  ifaith,  I  wold  to  god,  S/r,"  sayd  S/r  Cawline, 

"  thaX.  Soldan  I  will  assay.  155 

"  goe,  ffeitch  me  downe  my  Eldrige  sword, 

ffor  I  woone  itt  att  [a]  ffray." 
"  but  away,  away  !"  sayd  the  hend  Soldan, 

"  thou  tarryest  mee  here  all  day  ! " 

but  the  hend  Soldan  and  S/r  Cawline  160 

the  ffought  a  sum;/;ers  day  : 
now  has  hee  slaine  that  hend  Soldan, 

&  brought  his  5  heads  away. 

&  the  Ydng  has  betaken  him  his  broade  lands 

&  all  his  venison.  165 

"  but  take  you  too  &  youx  Lands  [soe]  broad, 

&  brooke  them  well  yo?/r  lifife, 
ffor  you  premised  mee  yoia  daughter  deere 

to  be  my  weded  wiffe." 


SIR    CAULINE.  8 1 

"  now  by  my  ffaith,'  then  sayes  our  K;«^,  170 

"  ffor  thaX.  wee  will  not  striffe ; 
ffor  thou  shalt  haue  my  daughter  dere 

to  be  thy  weded  witte." 

the  other  mominge  S/'r  Cawline  rose 

by  the  dawning  of  the  day,  175 

&  vntill  a  garden  did  he  goe 

his  Mattins  ffor  to  say ; 
&  thaX.  bespyed  a  ffalse  steward — 

a  shames  death  thai  he  might  dye  ! — 

&  he  lett  a  lyon  out  of  a  bande,  180 

S/r  Cawline  ffor  to  teare  ; 
&  he  had  noe  wepon  him  vpon, 

nor  noe  wepon  did  weare. 

but  hee  tooke  then  his  Mantle  of  greene, 

into  the  Lyons  mouth  itt  thrust;  185 

he  held  the  Lyon  soe  sore  to  the  wall 

till  the  Lyons  hart  did  burst. 

&  the  watchmen  cryed  vpon  the  walls 

&  sayd,  "  S/r  Cawlines  slaine  ! 
and  w/th  a  beast  is  not  ffuU  litle,  19° 

a  Lyon  of  Mickle  mayne." 
then  the  K/;7^s  daughter  shee  ffell  downe, 

"  for  peerlesse  is  my  payne  !  " 

"  O  peace,  my  Lady  !  "  sayes  S/r  Cawline, 

"  I  haue  bought  thy  loue  ffuU  deere.  i95 

O  peace,  my  Lady  ! "  sayes  S/r  Cawline, 

"  peace,  Lady,  ffor  I  am  heere  ! " 

then  he  did  marry  this  K///^s  daughter 

w/'th  gold  &  siluer  bright, 
&  15  sonnes  this  Ladye  beere  200 

to  S/r  Cawline  the  Knight. 

ffins. 


82  EDWARD,    EDWARD. 


V. 

EDWARD,    EDWARD. 

A  Scottish  Ballad. 

From  a  MS.  copy  tra7isinitted  from  Scotland. 

*HE  afifectedly  antique  orthography  of  this  ballad  has 
caused  some  to  suppose  that  it  was  a  modern  inven- 
tion, probably  by  Lady  Wardlaw,  the  author  of  Hardy- 
knute,  but  Motherwell  obtained  another  version  from 
the  recitation  of  an  old  woman,  which  he  printed  in  his  Minstrelsy 
under  the  title  of  "  Son  Davie,  son  Davie."  He  there  says  that 
there  is  reason  to  believe  that  Lord  Hailes  "made  a  few  slight 
verbal  improvements  in  the  copy  he  transmitted,  and  altered  the 
hero's  name  to  Edward,  a  name  which,  by  the  bye,  never  occurs 
in  a  Scottish  ballad  except  where  allusion  is  made  to  an  English 
king." 

There  is  a  Swedish  ballad  of  the  same  character  entitled  The 
Fratricide^ s  Lament  a7id  Dialogue  7uith  his  Mother  before  he  wanders 
away  from  home  for  ever. 

The  form  of  a  dialogue  between  a  mother  and  her  son  is  a 
favourite  one  in  the  old  ballads,  and  "  Lord  Donald"  in  Kinloch's 
Scottish  Ballads  and  "  Lord  Randal"  in  Scott's  Minstrelsy  he^iX  some 
likeness  to  the  ballad  of  "  Edward."  The  hero  is  supposed  to 
have  been  poisoned  by  eating  toads  prepared  as  a  dish  of  fishes, 
and  the  last  stanza  of  Kinloch's  ballad  is  as  follows  : — 

"  What  will  ye  leave  to  your  true  love,  Lord  Donald, 

My  son  ? 
What  will  ye  leave  to  your  true  love. 

My  joUie  young  man? 
The  tow  and  the  halter  for  to  hang  on  yon  tree. 
And  lat  her  hang  there  for  the  poysoning  o'  me."] 


EDWARD,    EDWARD.  8-, 


o 


UHY  dois  your  brand  sae  drop  wi'  bluid,' 

Edward,  Edward  ? 
Ouhy  dois  your  brand  sae  drop  wi'  bluid? 
And  quhy  sae  sad  gang  yee.  O  ?  "^ 
O,  I  hae  killed  my  hauke  sae  guid,  5 

Midler,  mither : 
O,  I  hae  killed  my  hauke  sae  guid  : 

And  I  had  nae  mair  bot  hee,"'  O. 

Your  haukis  bluid  was  nevir  sae  reid, 

Edward,  Edward.  10 

Your  haukis  bluid  was  nevir  sae  reid, 
My  deir  son  I  tell  thee,  O. 
O,  I  hae  killed  my  reid-roan  steid, 

Mither,  Mither  : 
O,  I  hae  killed  my  reid-roan  steid,  15 

That  erst  was  sae  fair  and  free,  O. 

Your  steid  was  auld,  and  ye  hae  gat  mair, 

Edward,  Edward  : 
Your  steid  was  auld,  and  ye  hae  gat  mair, 

Sum  other  dule  ye  drie,^  O.  20 

O,  I  hae  killed  my  fadir  deir, 

Mither,  mither : 
O,  I  hae  killed  my  fadir  deir, 

Alas  !  and  wae  is  me,  O  ! 

And  quhatten  penance  wul  ye  drie  ^  for  that,    25 

Edward,  Edward  ? 
And  quhatten  penance  will  ye  drie  for  that  ? 
My  deir  son,  now  tell  me,  O. 

[^  why  does  your  sword  so  drop  with  blood. 
2  and  why  so  sad  go  ye.  '  no  other  but  he. 

*  some  other  grief  you  suffer.  *  undergo.] 


84  EDWARD,    EDWARD. 

He  set  my  feit  in  yonder  boat, 

Mither,  mither :  30 

He  set  my  feit  in  yonder  boat, 

And  He  fare  ^  ovir  the  sea,  O. 

And  quhat  wul  ye  doe  wi'  your  towirs  and  your  ha',* 

Edward,  Edward  ? 
And  quhat  wul  ye  doe  wi'  your  towirs  and  your  ha',   35 

That  were  sae  fair  to  see,  O  ? 
He  let  thame  stand  til  they  doun  fa^^ 

Mither,  mither  : 
He  let  thame  stand  til  they  doun  fa,' 

For  here  nevir  mair  maun  I  bee,  O.   4.0 

And  quhat  wul  ye  leive  to  your  bairns  and  your  wife, 

Edward,  Edward  ? 
And  quhat  wul  ye  leive  to  your  bairns  and  your  wife, 

Quhan  ye  gang  ovir  the  sea,  O  ? 
The  warldis  room,^  let  thame  beg  throw  life,  4.5 

Mither,  mither : 
The  warldis  room,  let  thame  beg  throw  life, 

For  thame  nevir  mair  wul  I  see,  O. 

And  quhat  wul  ye  leive  to  your  ain  mither  deir, 

Edward,  Edward  ?  50 

And  quhat  wul  ye  leive  to  your  ain  mither  deir  ? 

My  deir  son,  now  tell  me,  O. 
The  curse  of  hell  frae  me  sail  ye  beir, 

Mither,  mither  : 
The  curse  of  hell  frae  me  sail  ye  beir,  55 

Sic  counseils  ye  gave  to  me,  O. 

This  curious  song  was  transmitted  to  the  editor  by  Sir  David 
Dalrymple,  Bart.,  late  Lord  Hailes. 

[^  pass.  ^  hall.  '  fall.  *  the  world's  large.] 


KING    ESTMERE.  85 


VI. 
KING    ESTMERE. 

'HIS  old  Romantic  Legend  (which  is  given  from  two 
copies,  one  of  them  in  the  editors  folio  MS.,  but 
^S^  which  contained  very  great  variations),  bears  marks 
of  considerable  antiquity,  and,  perhaps,  ought  to  have 
taken  place  of  any  in  this  volume.  It  would  seem  to  have  been 
written  while  part  of  Spain  was  in  the  hands  of  the  Saracens  or 
Moors :  whose  empire  there  was  not  fully  extinguished  before  the 
year  1491.  The  ]\Iahometans  are  spoken  of  in  v.  49,  &c.,  just  in 
the  same  terms  as  in  all  other  old  romances.  The  author  of  the 
ancient  Legend  o{  Sir  Brcis  represents  his  hero,  upon  all  occasions, 
breathing  out  defiance  against 

"  Mahoimd  and  Termagaunte  ; ''  * 

and  so  full  of  zeal  for  his  religion,  as  to  return  the  following  polite 
message  to  a  Paynim  king's  fair  daughter,  who  had  fallen  in  love 
with  him,  and  sent  two  Saracen  knights  to  invite  him  to  her 
bower, 

"  I  wyll  not  ones  stirre  off  this  grounde, 

To  speake  with  an  heathen  hounde. 

Unchristen  houndes,  I  rede  you  fle. 

Or  I  your  harte  bloud  shall  se."t 

Indeed  they  return  the  compliment  by  calling  him  elsewhere 
"  A  christen  hounde. 'J 

This  was  conformable  to  the  real  manners  of  the  barbarous 
ages :  perhaps  the  same  excuse  will  hardly  serve  our  bard,  for  that 
Adland  should  be  found  lolling  or  leaning  at  his  gate  (v.  35)  may 
be  thought,  perchance,  a  little  out  of  character.  And  yet  the 
great  painter  of  manners,  Homer,  did  not  think  it  inconsistent 
with  deconim  to  represent  a  king  of  the  Taphians  leaning  at  the 
gate  of  Ulysses  to  inquire  for  that  monarch,  when  he  touched  at 
Ithaca  as  he  was  taking  a  voyage  with  a  ship's  cargo  of  iron  to 
dispose  in  traffic.^  So  little  ought  we  to  judge  of  ancient  manners 
by  our  own. 

Before  1  conclude  this  article,  I  cannot  help  observing,  that  the 

•  See  a  short  Memoir  at  the  end  of  this  Ballad,  Note  fit- 
t  Sign  C.  ii.  b.  \  Sign  C.  i.  b.  ^  Odyss.  n.  105. 


86  KING    ESTMERE. 

reader  will  see,  in  this  ballad,  the  character  of  the  old  Minstrels 
(those  successors  of  the  Bards)  placed  in  a  very  respectable  light  :* 
here  he  will  see  one  of  them  represented  mounted  on  a  fine  horse, 
accompanied  with  an  attendant  to  bear  his  harp  after  him,  and  to 
sing  the  poems  of  his  composing.  Here  he  will  see  him  mixing 
in  the  company  of  kings  without  ceremony  :  no  mean  proof  of  the 
great  antiquity  of  this  poem.  The  farther  we  carry  our  inquiries 
back,  the  greater  respect  we  find  paid  to  the  professors  of  poetry 
and  music  among  all  the  Celtic  and  Gothic  nations.  Their 
character  was  deemed  so  sacred,  that  under  its  sanction  our  famous 
king  Alfred  (as  we  have  already  seen)t  made  no  scruple  to  enter 
the  Danish  camp,  and  was  at  once  admitted  to  the  king's  head- 
quarters.J  Our  poet  has  suggested  the  same  expedient  to  the 
heroes  of  this  ballad.  All  the  histories  of  the  North  are  full  of  the 
great  reverence  paid  to  this  order  of  men.  Harold  Harfagre,  a 
celebrated  King  of  Norway,  was  wont  to  seat  them  at  his  table 
above  all  the  ofticers  of  his  court :  and  we  find  another  Norwegian 
king  placing  five  of  them  by  his  side  in  a  day  of  battle,  that  they 
might  be  eye-witnesses  of  the  great  exploits  they  were  to  celebrate. § 
As  to  Estmere's  riding  into  the  hall  while  the  kings  were  at  table, 
this  was  usual  in  the  ages  of  chivalry ;  and  even  to  this  day  we  see 
a  relic  of  this  custom  still  kept  up,  in  the  champion's  riding  into 
Westminster  Hall  during  the  coronation  dinner.|| 

Some  liberties  have  been  taken  with  this  tale  by  the  editor,  but 
none  without  notice  to  the  reader  in  that  part  which  relates  to  the 
subject,  of  the  harper  and  his  attendant. 

[Percy  refers  to  two  copies  of  this  ballad,  but  there  is  every 
reason  to  believe  that  one  of  these  was  the  bishop's  own  compo- 
sition, as  it  was  never  seen  by  others  and  has  not  since  been 
found.  The  copy  from  the  folio  MS.  was  torn  out  by  Percy  when 
he  was  preparing  the  fourth  edition  of  the  Reliques  for  the  press, 
and  is  now  unfortunately  lost,  so  that  we  have  no  means  of  telling 
what  alterations  he  made  in  addition  to  those  which  he  mentions 
in  the  foot  notes.  The  readings  in  the  fourth  edition  are  changed 
in  several  places  from  those  printed  in  the  first  edition.] 

*  See  vol.  ii.,  note  subjoined  to  ist  part  of  Beggar  of  Bednal,  &c. 

t  See  the  Essay  on  the  Antient  Minstrels  (Appendix  I.) 

J  Even  so  late  as  the  time  of  Froissart,  we  find  minstrels  and 
heralds  mentioned  together,  as  those  who  might  securely  go  into 
an  enemy's  country.     Cap.  cxl. 

§  Bartholini  Antiq.  Dan.  p.  173.  Northerji  Antiquities,  &c., 
vol.  i.  pp.  386,  389,  &c. 

II  See  also  the  account  of  Edw.  II.  in  the  Essay  on  the  Minstrels, 
and  note  (x). 


KING    ESTMERE.  %y 


/?^EARKEN  to  me,  orentlemen. 
1^        Come  and  you  shall  heare  ; 

He  tell  you  of  two  of  the  boldest  brethren 
That  ever  borne  y-were. 

The  tone '  of  them  was  Adler  younge,  5 

The  tother  was  kyng  Estmere  ; 
The  were  as  bolde  men  in  their  deeds, 

As  any  w^ere  farr  and  neare. 

As  they  were  drinking-  ale  and  wine 

Within  kyng  Estmeres  halle  :  10 

When  will  ye  marry  a  wyfe,  brother, 
A  wyfe  to  glad  us  all  ? 

Then  bespake  him  kyng  Estmere, 

And  answered  him  hastilee  : 
I  know  not  that  ladye  in  any  land  15 

That's  able '"'  to  marrye  with  mee. 

Kyng  Adland  hath  a  daughter,  brother, 
Men  call  her  bright  and  sheene  ;"^ 

If  I  were  kyng  here  in  your  stead, 

That  ladye  shold  be  my  queene.  20 

Saies,  Reade  me,'  reade  me,  deare  brother. 

Throughout  merry  England, 
Where  we  might  find  a  messenger 

Betwixt  us  towe  to  sende. 


Ver.   3.    brother,   f.    MS.       V.   10.   his  brother's  hall,   f.  MS. 
V.  14.  hartilye,  f.  MS. 

*  He  means  fit,  suitable. 

[■^  the  one.  '  shining.  '  advise  inc.] 


88  KING    ESTMERE. 

Saies,  You  shal  ryde  yourselfe,  brother,  25 

He  beare  you  companye  ; 
Many  throughe  fals  messengers  are  deceived, 

And  I  feare  lest  soe  shold  wee. 

Thus  the  renisht  ^  them  to  ryde 

Of  twoe  good  renisht  ^  steeds,  30 

And  when  the  came  to  king  Adlands  halle, 

Of  redd  gold  shone  their  weeds." 

And  when  the  came  to  kyng  Adlands  hall 

Before  the  goodlye  gate, 
There  they  found  good  kyng  Adland  35 

Rearing  ^  himselfe  theratt. 

Now  Christ  thee  save,  good  kyng  Adland; 

Now  Christ  you  save  and  see. 
Sayd,  You  be  welcome,  king  Estmere, 

Right  hartilye  to  mee.  40 

You  have  a  daughter,  said  Adler  younge, 

Men  call  her  bright  and  sheene, 
My  brother  wold  marrye  her  to  his  wiffe, 

Of  Englande  to  be  queene. 

Yesterday  was  att  my  deere  daughter  4.5 

Syr  Bremor  the  kyng  of  Spayne  ; 

And  then  she  nicked  ^  him  of  naye, 
And  I  doubt  sheele^  do  you  the  same. 

The  kyng  of  Spayne  is  a  foule  paynim,^ 

And  'leeveth  ^  on  Mahound  ;  50 

,  And  pitye  it  were  that  fayre  ladye 

Shold  marrye  a  heathen  hound. 

x* 

Ver.  27.  many  a  man  ...  is,  f.  MS.      V.  46.   the  king  his 
Sonne  of  Spayn,  f.  MS. 

[^  they  got  ready  ?        ^  harnessed.        ■'  garments.    ^  leaning. 
^  refused.  ®  she  will.  "^  pagan.         ^  believeth.] 


KING    ESTMERE.  89 

But  grant  to  me,  sayes  kyng  Estmere, 

For  my  love  I  you  praye  ; 
That  I  may  see  your  daughter  deere  55 

Before  I  goe  hence  awaye. 

Although  itt  is  seven  yeers  and  more 

Since  my  daughter  was  in  halle, 
She  shall  come  once  downe  for  your  sake 

To  glad  my  guestes  alle.  60 

Downe  then  came  that  mayden  fayre, 

With  ladyes  laced  in  pall/ 
And  halfe  a  hundred  of  bold  knightes, 

To  bring  her  from  bowre  to  hall ; 
And  as  many  gentle  squiers,  65 

To  tend  upon  them  all. 

The  talents  of  Qfolde  were  on  her  head  sette, 

Hanged  low  downe  to  her  knee ; 
And  everye  ring  on  her  small  finger, 

Shone  of  the  chrystall  free.  '  70 

Saies,  God  you  save,  my  deere  madam  ; 

Sales,  God  you  save  and  see. 
Said,  You  be  welcome,  kyng  Estmere, 

Ricrht  welcome  unto  mee. 

And  if  you  love  me,  as  you  saye,  75. 

Soe  well  and  hartilee. 
All  that  ever  you  are  comen  about 

Soone  sped  now  itt  shal  bee. 

Then  bespake  her  father  deare  : 

My  daughter,  I  saye  naye ;  £0 

Remember  well  the  kyng  of  Spayne, 

What  he  sayd  yesterdaye. 

He  wold  pull  downe  my  halles  and  castles, 

And  reave '^  me  of  my  lyfe 
I  cannot  blame  him  if  he  doe,  85 

If  I  reave  him  of  his  wyfe. 

['  robe  of  state.  '  bereave.] 


90  KING    ESTMERE. 

Your  castles  and  your  towres,  father, 

Are  stronglye  built  aboute  ; 
And  therefore  of  the  king  of  Spaine 

Wee  neede  not  stande  in  doubt.  9° 

Plight  me  your  troth,  nowe,  kyng  Estmere, 
By  heaven  and  your  righte  hand, 

That  you  will  marrye  me  to  your  wyfe. 
And  make  me  queene  of  your  land. 

Then  kyng  Estmere  he  plight  his  troth  95 

By  heaven  and  his  righte  hand, 
That  he  wolde  marrye  her  to  his  wyfe. 

And  make  her  queene  of  his  land. 

And  he  tooke  leave  of  that  ladye  fayre, 

To  goe  to  his  owne  countree,  100 

To  fetche  him  dukes  and  lordes  and  knightes, 
That  marryed  the  might  bee. 

They  had  not  ridden  scant  a  myle, 

A  myle  forthe  of  the  towne, 
But  in  did  come  the  kyng  of  Spayne,  105 

With  kempes^  many  one. 

But  in  did  come  the  kyng  of  Spayne, 

With  manye  a  bold  barone, 
Tone  day  to  marrye  kyng  Adlands  daughter, 

Tother  daye  to  carrye  her  home.  no 

Shee  sent  one  after  kyng  Estmere 

In  all  the  spede  might  bee. 
That  he  must  either  turne  againe  and  fighte, 

Or  goe  home  and  loose  his  ladye. 

One  whyle  then  the  page  he  went,  115 

Another  while  he  ranne  ; 


Ver.  89.  of  the  King  his  sonne  of  Spaine,  f.  MS. 
\}  soldiers  or  knights.] 


KING    ESTMERE.  91 

Till  he  had  oretaken  king  Estmere, 
I  wis,  he  never  blanne.' 

Tyding-s,  tydings,  kyng  Estmere  ! 

What  tydinges  nowe,  my  boye  ?  no 

0  tydinges  I  can  tell  to  you, 
That  will  you  sore  annoye. 

You  had  not  ridden  scant  a  mile, 

A  mile  out  of  the  towne, 
But  in  did  come  the  kyng  of  Spayne  125 

With  kempes  many  a  one  : 

But  in  did  come  the  kyng  of  Spayne 

With  manye  a  bold  barone. 
Tone  daye  to  marrye  king  Adlands  daughter. 

Tother  daye  to  carry  her  home.  130 

My  lad)e  fayre  she  greetes  you  well, 

And  ever-more  well  by  mee  : 
You  must  either  turne  againe  and  fighte. 

Or  goe  home  and  loose  your  ladye. 

Sales,  Reade  me,  reade  me,  deere  brother,      135 

My  reade  shall  ryde  *  at  thee, 
Whether  it  is  better  to  turne  and  fighte, 

Or  goe  home  and  loose  my  ladye. 

Now  hearken  to  me,  sa}'es  Adler  yonge, 

And  your  reade  must  rise  f  at  me,  i+o 

1  quicklye  will  devise  a  waye 

To  sette  thy  ladye  free. 

My  mother  was  a  westerne  woman, 
And  learned  in  gramarye,:}: 


• 


j/V  MS.     It  should  probably  be  ryse,  i.e.  my  counsel   shall 
arise  from  thee.     See  ver.  140. 

t  sic  MS.  }  See  at  the  end  of  this  ballad,  note  * ^* . 

[^  stopped.] 


92  KING    ESTMERE. 

And  when  I  learned  at  the  schole,  i+s 

Something  shee  taught  itt  mee. 

There  growes  an  hearbe  within  this  field, 

And  iff  it  were  but  knowne, 
His  color,  which  is  whyte  and  redd, 

It  will  make  blacke  and  browne  :  150 

His  color,  which  is  browne  and  blacke, 

Itt  will  make  redd  and  whyte  ; 
That  sworde  is  not  in  all  Englande, 

Upon  his  coate  will  byte. 

And  you  shal  be  a  harper,  brother,  155 

Out  of  the  north  countrye  ; 
And  He  be  your  boy,  soe  faine  of  fighte,*^ 

And  beare  your  harpe  by  your  knee. 

And  you  shal  be  the  best  harper, 

That  ever  tooke  harpe  in  hand  ;  160 

And  I  wil  be  the  best  singer. 

That  ever  sunof  in  this  lande. 

Itt  shal  be  written  in  our  forheads 

All  and  in  grammarye. 
That  we  towe  are  the  boldest  men,  165 

That  are  in  all  Christentye. 

And  thus  they  renisht  them  to  ryde. 

On  tow  good  renish  steedes  : 
And  when  they  came  to  king  Adlands  hall, 

Of  redd  gold  shone  their  weedes.  170 

And  whan  the  came  to  kyng  Adlands  hall, 

Untill  the  fayre  hall  yate,"'* 
There  they  found  a  proud  porter 

Rearing  himselfe  thereatt. 


[^  fond  of  fighting.  ^  gate.] 


KING    ES THERE.  93 

Sayes,  Christ  thee  save,  thou  proud  porter;     175 

Sayes,  Christ  thee  save  and  see. 
Nowe  you  be  welcome,  sayd  the  porter, 

Of  what  land  soever  ye  bee. 

Wee  beene  harpers,  sayd  Adler  younge, 

Come  out  of  the  northe  countrye  ;  iSo 

Wee  beene  come  hither  untill  this  place. 
This  proud  weddinge  for  to  see. 

Sayd,  And  your  color  were  white  and  redd, 

As  it  is  blacke  and  browne, 
I  wold  saye  king  Estmere  and  his  brother       185 

Were  comen  untill  this  towne. 

Then  they  pulled  out  a  ryng  of  gold, 

Layd  itt  on  the  porters  arme  : 
And  ever  we  will  thee,  proud  porter, 

Thow  wilt  saye  us  no  harme.  190 

Sore  he  looked  on  kyng  Estmere, 

And  sore  he  handled  the  ryng, 
Then  opened  to  them  the  fayre  hall  yates. 

He  lett^  for  no  kind  of  thyng, 

Kyng  Estmere  he  stabled  his  steede  195 

Soe  fayre  att  the  hall  bord  ; 
The  froth,  that  came  from  his  brydle  bitte. 

Light  in  kyng  Bremors  beard. 

Saies,  Stable  thy  steed,  thou  proud  harper, 
Saies,  Stable  him  in  the  stalle  ;  200 

It  doth  not  beseeme  a  proud  harper 
To  stable  '  him'  in  a  kyngs  halle. 


Ver.  202.  to  stable  his  steede,  f.  MS. 
\ '  he  left  ?  or  he  let  be  opened  ?J 


94  KING    ESTMERE. 

My  ladde  he  is  so  lither/  he  said, 

He  will  doe  nought  that's  meete ; 
And  is  there  any  man  in  this  hall  205 

Were  able  him  to  beate. 

Thou  speakst  proud  words,  sayes  the  king  of  Spaine, 

Thou  harper  here  to  mee  : 
There  is  a  man  within  this  halle. 

Will  beate  thy  ladd  and  thee.  210 

O  let  that  man  come  downe,  he  said, 

A  sight  of  him  wold  I  see  ; 
And  when  hee  hath  beaten  well  my  ladd, 

Then  he  shall  beate  of  mee. 

Downe  then  came  the  kemperye  man,^  215 

And  looked  him  in  the  eare  ; 
For  all  the  gold,  that  was  under  heaven, 

He  durst  not  neigh  him  neare.^ 

And  how  nowe,  kempe,  said  the  kyng  of  Spaine, 
And  how  what  aileth  thee  ?  220 

He  saies,  It  is  writt  in  his  forhead 
All  and  in  gramarye, 

That  for  all  the  gold  that  is  under  heaven, 
I  dare  not  neigh  him  nye. 

Then  kyng  Estmere  pulld  forth  his  harpe,  225 

And  plaid  a  pretty  thinge  : 
The  ladye  upstart  from  the  borde, 

And  wold  have  gone  from  the  king. 

Stay  thy  harpe,  thou  proud  harper, 

For  Gods  love  I  pray  thee  230 

For  and  thou  playes  as  thou  beginns, 

Thou'lt  till  *  my  bryde  from  mee. 

*  i.e.  entice. 
[' lazy  or  wicked.     ^  soldier  or  fighting  man.     ^  approach  him  near.] 


KING    EST  MERE.  95 

He  stroake  upon  his  harpe  agalne, 

And  playd  a  pretty  thinge  ; 
The  ladye  lough ^  a  loud  laughter,  235 

As  shee  sate  by  the  king. 

Sales,  sell  me  thy  harpe,  thou  proud  harper, 

And  thy  stringes  all, 
For  as  many  gold  nobles  '  thou  shalt  have ' 

As  heere  bee  ringes  in  the  hall.  240 

What  wold  ye  doe  with  my  harpe,  'he  sayd,' 

If  I  did  sell  itt  yee  ? 
"  To  playe  my  wiffe  and  me  a  Fitt,* 

When  abed  together  wee  bee." 

Now  sell  me,  quoth  hee,  thy  bryde  soe  gay,    ^45 

As  shee  sitts  by  thy  knee, 
And  as  many  gold  nobles  I  will  give. 

As  leaves  been  on  a  tree. 

And  what  wold  ye  doe  with  my  bryde  soe  gay, 
Iff  I  did  sell  her  thee  ?  250 

More  seemelye  it  is  for  her  fayre  bodye 
To  lye  by  mee  then  thee. 

Hee  played  agayne  both  loud  and  shrille, 

And  Adler  he  did  syng, 
"  O  ladye,  this  is  thy  owne  true  love  ;  255 

Noe  harper,  but  a  kyng. 

"  O  ladye,  this  is  thy  owne  true  love. 
As  play nl  ye  thou  mayest  see  ; 


Ver.  253.  Some  liberties  have  been  taken  in  the  following 
stanzas ;  but  wherever  this  edition  differs  from  the  preceding,  it 
hath  been  brought  nearer  to  the  folio  MS. 

•  /.  e.  a  tune,  or  strain  of  music. 
['  laughed. J 


96  KING    EST  ME  RE, 

And  He  rid  thee  of  that  foule  paynim, 

Who  partes  thy  love  and  thee."  a6o 

The  ladye  looked,  the  ladye  blushte, 

And  blushte  and  lookt  agayne, 
While  Adler  he  hath  drawne  his  brande, 

And  hath  the  Sowdan  slayne. 

Up  then  rose  the  kemperye  men,  265 

And  loud  they  gan  to  crye  : 
Ah  !  traytors,  yee  have  slayne  our  kyng, 

And  therefore  yee  shall  dye. 

Kyng  Estmere  threwe  the  harpe  asyde, 

And  swith  ^  he  drew  his  brand  f  z7o 

And  Estmere  he,  and  Adler  yonge 
Right  stiffe  in  stour^  can  stand. 

And  aye  their  swordes  soe  sore  can  byte, 

Throughe  help  of  Gramarye 
That  soone  they  have  slayne  the  kempery  men,     275 

Or  forst  them  forth  to  flee. 

Kyng  Estmere  tooke  that  fay  re  ladye, 

And  marryed  her  to  his  wifife, 
And  brought  her  home  to  merry  England 

With  her  to  leade  his  life.  a8o 


*^*  The  word  Gratnarye,^  which  occurs  several  times  in  the 
foregoing  poem,  is  probably  a  corruption  of  the  French  word 
Grimoire,  which  signifies  a  conjuring  book  in  the  old  French 
romances,  if  not  the  art  of  necromancy  itself. 

-t4-t  Termagaunt  (mentioned  above,  p.  85)  is  the  name  given  in 
the  old  romances  to  the  god  of  the  Saracens,  in  which  he  is  con- 

\}  quickly.  ^  sword.  '  fight. 

*  or  grammar,  and  hence  used  for  any  abstruse  learning.] 


KING    ESTMERE.  97 

stantly  linked  with  Alahound  or  Mahomet.     Thus,  in  the  legend 
of  Syr  Guy,  the  Soudan  (Sultan),  swears 

"  So  helpe  me  Mahouine  of  might, 
And  Tennagautit  my  god  so  bright." 

Sign.  p.  iii.  b. 

This  word  is  derived  by  the  very  learned  editor  of  Junius  from 
the  Anglo-Saxon  Tyfi  very,  and  ClOajan  mighty.  As  this  word  had 
so  sublime  a  derivation,  and  was  so  applicable  to  the  true  Clod, 
how  shall  we  account  for  its  being  so  degraded?  Perhaps  Typ- 
majan  or  Termagant  had  been  a  name  originally  given  to  some 
Saxon  idol,  before  our  ancestors  were  converted  to  Christianity ; 
or  had  been  the  peculiar  attribute  of  one  of  their  false  deities ;  and 
therefore  the  first  Christian  missionaries  rejectetl  it  as  profane  and 
improper  to  be  applied  to  the  tnie  God.  After^vards,  when  the 
irruptions  of  the  Saracens  into  Europe,  and  the  Crusades  into  the 
East,  had  brought  them  acquainted  with  a  new  species  of  unbe- 
lievers, our  ignorant  ancestors,  who  thought  all  that  did  not  receive 
the  Christian  law  were  necessarily  pagans  and  idolaters,  supposed 
the  Mahometan  creed  was  in  all  respects  the  same  with  that  of 
their  pagan  forefathers,  and  therefore  made  no  scniple  to  give  the 
ancient  name  of  Termagant  to  the  god  of  the  Saracens,  just  in  the 
same  manner  as  they  afterwards  used  the  name  of  Sarazen  to 
express  any  kind  of  pagan  or  idolater.  In  the  ancient  romance 
of  Alcrlinc  (in  the  editor's  folio  ISIS.)  the  Saxons  themselves  that 
came  over  with  Hengist,  because  they  were  not  Christians,  are 
constantly  called  Sarazens. 

However  that  be,  it  is  certain  that,  after  the  times  of  the  Cru- 
sades, both  Maliound  and  'Tcrmagaunt  made  their  frequent  appear- 
ance in  the  pageants  and  religious  interludes  of  the  barbarous 
ages  ;  in  which  they  were  exhibited  with  gestures  so  furious  and 
frantic,  as  to  become  proverbial.  Thus  Skelton  speaks  of  Wol- 
sey  : — 

"  Like  Mahound  in  a  play, 

No  man  dare  him  withsay." 

Ed.  1736,  p.  158. 

In  like  manner  Bale,  describing  the  threats  used  by  some  papist 
magistrates  to  his  wife,  speaks  of  them  as  "  grennyng  upon  her  lyke 
Termagauntes  in  a  playe."  {Ades  of  Engl.  Votary es,  pt.  ii.  fo.  83, 
Kd.  1550,  i2mo.)  Accordingly  in  a  letter  of  Edward  Alleyn,  the 
founder  of  Dulwich  College,  to  his  wife  or  sister,  who,  it  seems, 
with  all  her  fellows  (the  players),  had  been  "  by  my  Eorde  Maiors 
officer[sl  mad  to  rid  in  a  cart,"  he  expresses  his  concern  that  she 
should  "  fall  into  the  hands  of  suche  Tarmagants."  (So  the  orig. 
dated  May  2,  1593,  preserved  by  the  care  of  the  Rev.  Thomas 
Jcnyns  Smith,  Fellow  of  Dulw.  Coll.)     Hence  we  may  conceive 

n 


98  KING    ESTMERE. 

the  force  of  Hamlet's  expression  in  Shakspeare,  where,  con- 
demning a  ranting  player,  he  says,  "  I  could  have  such  a  fellow 
whipt  for  ore-doing  Termagant:  it  out-herods  Herod"  (Act  iii. 
sc.  3).  By  degrees  the  word  came  to  be  applied  to  an  outrageous 
turbulent  person,  and  especially  to  a  violent  brawling  woman  ;  to 
whom  alone  it  is  now  confined,  and  this  the  rather  as,  I  suppose, 
the  character  of  Termagant  was  anciently  represented  on  the  stage 
after  the  eastern  mode,  with  long  robes  or  petticoats. 

Another  frequent  character  in  the  old  pageants  or  interludes  of 
our  ancestors,  was  the  sowdan  or  soldati,  representing  a  grim  eastern 
tyrant.  This  appears  from  a  curious  passage  in  Stow's  Annals 
(p.  458).  In  a  stage-play  "the  people  know  right  well  that  he 
that  plaieth  the  sowdain,  is  percase  a  sowter  [shoe-maker];  yet  if 
one  should  cal  him  by  his  owne  name,  while  he  standeth  in  his 
majestic,  one  of  his  tormenters  might  hap  to  break  his  head." 
The  sowdain,  or  soldan,  was  a  name  given  to  the  Sarazen  king 
(being  only  a  more  rude  pronunciation  of  the  word  stdtan),  as  the 
soldan  of  Egypt,  the  soudan  of  Persia,  the  sowdan  of  Babylon,  &c., 
who  were  generally  represented  as  accompanied  with  grim  Sarazens, 
whose  business  it  was  to  punish  and  torment  Christians. 

I  cannot  conclude  this  short  memoir,  without  observing  that  the 
French  romancers,  who  had  borrowed  the  word  Termagant  from  us, 
and  applied  it  as  we  in  their  old  romances,  corrupted  it  into  Terva- 
gaiinte ;  and  from  them  La  Fontaine  took  it  up,  and  has  used  it 
more  than  once  in  his  tales.  This  may  be  added  to  the  other 
proofs  adduced  in  these  volumes  of  the  great  intercourse  that 
formerly  subsisted  between  the  old  minstrels  and  legendary  writers 
of  both  nations,  and  that  they  mutually  borrowed  each  other's 
romances. 


VII. 

SIR    PATRICK    SPENCE, 

A  Scottish  Ballad, 

S  given  from  two  MS.  copies  transmitted  from  Scotland. 
In  what  age  the  hero  of  this  ballad  lived,  or  when 
this  fatal  expedition  happened  that  proved  so  destruc- 
tive to  the  Scots  nobles,  I  have  not  been  able  to  dis- 
cover ;  yet  am  of  opinion,  that  their  catastrophe  is  not  altogether 
without   foundation   in  history,  though   it  has  escaped  my  own 


S//^    PATRICK    SPENCE. 


99 


researches.  In  the  infancy  of  navigation,  such  as  used  the  northern 
seas  were  very  liable  to  ship\\Teck  in  the  wintry  months  :  hence 
a  law  was  enacted  in  the  reign  of  James  III.  (a  law  which  was 
frequently  repeated  afterwards),  "  That  there  be  na  schip  frauched 
out  of  the  realm  with  any  staple  gudes,  fra  the  feast  of  Simons 
day  and  Jude,  unto  the  feast  of  the  purification  of  our  Lady  called 
Candelmess."'    Jam.  III.  Parlt.  2,  ch.  15. 

In  some  modem  copies,  instead  of  Patrick  Sjience  hath  been 
substituted  the  name  of  Sir  Andrew  Wood,  a  famous  Scottish 
admiral  who  flourished  in  the  time  of  our  Edward  IV.,  but  whose 
story  has  nothing  in  common  with  this  of  the  ballad.  As  Wood 
was  the  most  noted  warrior  of  Scotland,  it  is  probable  that,  like  the 
Theban  Hercules,  he  hath  engrossed  the  renown  of  other  heroes. 

[The  fact  that  this  glorious  ballad  was  never  heard  of  before 
Percy  printed  it  in  176:^,  caused  some  to  throw  doubts  upon  its 
auTHenticity,  and  their  scepticism  was  strengthened  by  the  note  at 
p.  102,  which  refers  to  the  author  of  Zf'i?n/i'/Cv////t'.  It  was  thought 
that  the  likeness  in  expression  and  sentiment  there  mentioned 
might  easily  be  explained  if  the  two  poems  were  both  by  Lady 
AVardlaw.  This  view,  advocated  by  Robert  Chambers  in  his  general 
attack  on  the  authenticity  of  all  The  Romantic  Scottish  Balhids 
(1859),  has  not  met  with  much  favour,  and  Professor  Child  thinks 
that  the  arguments  against  the  genuineness  of  .5'/>  Patrick  Spcncc 
are  so  trivial  as  hardly  to  admit  of  statement.  He  writes,  "  If  not 
ancient  it  has  been  always  accepted  as  such  by  the  most  skilful 
judges,  and  is  a  solitary  instance  of  a  successful  imitation  in  manner 
and  spirit  of  the  best  specimens  of  authentic  minstrelsy."'  Cole- 
ridge, no  mean  judge  of  a  ballad,  wrote — 

'•  The  bard  be  sure  was  weather-wise  who  framed 
The  grand  old  ballad  of  Sir  Patrick  Spens." 

Antiquaries  have  objected  that  Spence  is  not  an  early  Scottish 
name,  but  in  this  they  are  wTong,  for  Professor  Aytoun  found  it 
in  a  charter  of  Robert  III.  and  also  in  Wyntoun's  Chronic/c. 

There  has  been  considerable  discussion  as  to  the  historical  event 
referred  to  in  the  ballad,  and  the  present  version  does  not  contain 
any  mention  of  one  of  the  points  that  may  help  towards  a  settle- 
ment of  the  question.  The  version  in  Scott's  Minstrelsy  contains 
the  following  stanza:  — 

"  To  Noroway,  to  Noroway 

To  Noroway  o'er  the  faem 
The  king's  daughter  of  Noroway 
'Tis  thou  maun  bring  her  hamc." 


['  Eni^/ish  and  Scottish  BaUads,  vol.  iii.  p.  149. 


loo         SIR    PATRICK    SPENCE. 

Professor  Aytoun  would  change  the  third  line  to 

"  The  king's  daughter  to  Noroway/' 

as  he  agrees  with  Motherwell  in  the  view  that  the  ballad  refers  to 
the  fate  of  the  Scottish  nobles  who  in  1281  conveyed  Margaret, 
daughter  of  Alexander  III.,  to  Norway,  on  the  occasion  of  her 
nuptials  with  King  Eric. 

Fordun  relates  this  incident  as  follows: — "In  the  year  1281 
Margaret,  daughter  of  Alexander  III.,  was  married  to  the  King  of 
Norway,  who,  leaving  Scotland  in  the  last  day  of  July,  was  con- 
veyed thither  in  noble  style  in  company  with  many  knights  and 
nobles.  In  returning  home  after  the  celebration  of  her  nuptials, 
the  Abbot  of  Balmerinoch,  Bernard  of  Monte-alto,  and  many  other 
persons,  were  drowned."  As  to  the  scene  of  the  disaster,  Aytoun 
brings  forward  an  interesting  illustration  of  the  expression  "  half 
over  to  Aberdour,"  in  line  41.  He  says  that  in  the  little  island  of 
Papa  Stronsay  one  of  the  Orcadian  group  lying  over  against  Nor- 
way, there  is  a  large  grave  or  tumulus  which  has  been  known  to 
the  inhabitants  from  time  immemorial  as  "  the  grave  of  Sir  Patrick 
Spens,"  and  he  adds,  that  as  the  Scottish  ballads  were  not  early 
current  in  Orkney,  it  is  unlikely  that  the  poem  originated  the 
name. 

The  other  suggestions  as  to  an  historical  basis  for  the  ballad  are 
not  borne  out  by  history.  It  is  well,  however,  to  note  in  illustra- 
tion of  line  I,  that  the  Scottish  kings  chiefly  resided  in  their  palace 
of  Dunfermline  from  the  time  of  Malcolm  Canmore  to  that  of 
Alexander  III. 

The  present  copy  of  the  ballad  is  the  shortest  of  the  various 
versions,  but  this  is  not  a  disadvantage,  as  it  gains  much  in  force 
by  the  directness  of  its  language. 

Buchan  prints  a  ballad  called  Young  Allan,  which  is  somewhat 
like  Sir  Patrick  Spence.~\ 


HE  king  sits  in  Dumferling  toune, 
Drinkine  the  blude-reid  wine  : 


O  quhar  will  I  get  guid  sailor, 
To  sail  this  schip  of  mine  ? 

Up  and  spak  an  eldern  knicht, 

Sat  at  the  kings  richt  kne  : 
Sir  Patrick  Spence  is  the  best  sailor, 

That  sails  upon  the  se. 


SIR    PATRICK    SPENCE.         loi 

The  king  has  written  a  braid  letter,* 

And  signd  it  wi'  his  hand  ;  lo 

And  sent  it  to  Sir  Patrick  Spence, 
Was  walking  on  the  sand. 

The  first  line  that  Sir  Patrick  red, 

A  loud  lauch  lauched  he  : 
The  next  line  that  Sir  Patrick  red,  15 

The  teir  blinded  his  ee. 

O  quha  is  this  has  don  this  deid,       '■' 

This  ill  deid  don  to  me ; 
To  send  me  out  this  time  o'the  yeir, 

To  sail  upon  the  se  ?  20 

Mak  hast,  mak  haste,  my  mirry  men  all, 

Our  guid  schip  sails  the  morne/ 
O  say  na  sac,  my  master  deir. 

For  I  feir  a  deadlie  storme. 

Late  late  yestreen  I  saw  the  new  moone  -^      25 

Wi'  the  auld  moone  in  hir  arme ; 

And  I  feir,  I  feir,  my  deir  master, 

That  we  will  com  to  harme. 

c 

O  our  Scots  nobles  wer  richt  laith'^ 

To  weet  their  cork-heild  schoone  ; '  30 

Bot  lang  owre  ^  a'  the  play  wer  playd, 

Thair  hats  they  swam  aboone/ 

O  lang,  lang,  may  thair  ladies  sit 

Wi'  thair  fans  into  their  hand, 
Or  eir  they  se  Sir  Patrick  Spence  3s 

Cum  sailinof  to  the  land. 


't. 


•  A  braid  letter,  i.e.  open,  or  patent ;  in  opposition  to  close  rolls. 

['  to-morrow  morning.  '^  lotii. 

3  to  wet  their  cork-heeled  shoes.  '  loiij;  ere. 

*  above  the  water.] 


I02         S/R    PATRICK    SPENCE. 

O  lang,  lang,  may  the  ladies  stand 
Wi'  thair  gold  kerns  ^  in  their  hair, 

Waiting  for  thair  ain  deir  lords, 

For  they'll  se  thame  na  main  40 


Have  owre,*^  have  owre  to  Aberdour,* 

It's  fiftie  fadom  deip  : 
And  thair  lies  guid  Sir  Patrick  Spence, 

Wi'  the  Scots  lords  at  his  feit.f 


)) 


VIII. 
ROBIN    HOOD  AND  GUY  OF  GISBORNE, 


,E  have  here  a  ballad  of  Robin  Hood  (from  the  editor's 
folio  MS.)  which  was  never  before  printed,  and  carries 
marks  of  much  greater  antiquity  than  any  of  the  com- 
mon popular  songs  on  this  subject. 
The  severity  of  those  tyrannical  forest  laws  that  were  intro- 
duced by  our  Norman  kings,  and  the  great  temptation  of  breaking 
them  by  such  as  lived  near  the  royal  forests  at  a  time  when 
the  yeomanry  of  this  kingdom  were  everywhere  trained  up  to 
the  long-bow,  and  excelled  all  other  nations  in  the  art  of  shoot- 
ing, must  constantly  have  occasioned  great  numbers  of  outlaws, 

*  A  village  lying  upon  the  river  Forth,  the  entrance  to  which  is 
sometimes  denominated  De  niortiio  mari. 

[Finlay  observes  that  Percy's  note  is  incorrect.  The  truth  is 
that  De  Mortuo  Mari  is  the  designation  of  a  family  (Mortimer) 
who  were  lords  of  Aberdour.  They  are  believed  to  have  received 
their  name  from  the  Dead  Sea,  in  Palestine,  during  the  times  of 
the  Crusades.] 

t  An  ingenious  friend  thinks  the  author  of  Hardyknute  has  bor- 
rowed several  expressions  and  sentiments  from  the  foregoing  and 
other  old  Scottish  songs  in  this  collection. 

[•  combs.  "^  half  over.] 


ROBIN   HOOD.  103 

and  especially  of  such  as  were  the  best  marksmen.  These  na- 
turally fled  to  the  woods  for  shelter,  and,  forming  into  troops,  en- 
deavoured by  their  numbers  to  protect  themselves  from  the  dread- 
ful penalties  of  their  delinquency.  The  ancient  punishment  for 
killing  the  king's  deer  was  loss  of  eyes  and  castration,  a  punish- 
ment far  worse  than  death.  This  will  easily  account  for  the  troops 
of  banditti  which  formerly  lurked  in  the  royal  forests,  and,  from 
their  superior  skill  in  archery  and  knowledge  of  all  the  recesses  of 
those  unfrequented  solitudes,  found  it  no  difficult  matter  to  resist 
or  elude  the  civil  power. 

Amoncj  all  those,  none  was  ever  more  famous  than  the  hero  of 
this  ballad,  whose  chief  residence  was  m  Shirewood  forest,  m  Not- 
tinghamshire, and  the  heads  of  whose  story,  as  collected  by  Stow, 
are  briefly  these. 

"  In  this  time  [about  the  year  11 90,  in  the  reign  of  Richard  I.] 
were  many  robbers,  and  outlawes,  among  the  which  Robin  Hood, 
and  Little  John,  reno^\•ned  theeves,  continued  in  woods,  despoyling 
and  robbing  the  goods  of  the  rich.  They  killed  none  but  such  as 
would  invade  them  ;  or  by  resistance  for  their  own  defence. 

"  The  saide  Robert  entertained  an  hundred  tail  men  and  good 
archers  with  such  spoiles  and  thefts  as  he  got,  upon  whom  four 
hundred  (were  they  ever  so  strong)  durst  not  give  the  onset.  He 
suffered  no  woman  to  be  oppressed,  violated,  or  otherwise  molested  : 
poore  mens  goods  he  spared,  abundantlie  relieving  them  with  that 
which  by  theft  he  got  from  abbeys  and  the  houses  of  rich  carles  : 
whom  Maior  (the  historian)  blameth  for  his  rapine  and  theft,  but 
of  all  theeves  he  afiirmeth  him  to  be  the  prince,  and  the  most  gentle 
theefe." — Annals,  p.  159. 

The  personal  courage  of  this  celebrated  outlaw,  his  skill  in 
archery,  his  humanity,  and  especially  his  levelling  principle  of 
taking  from  the  rich  and  giving  to  the  poor,  have  in  all  ages  ren- 
dered him  the  favourite  of  the  common  people,  who,  not  content 
to  celebrate  his  memory  by  innumerable  songs  and  stories,  have 
erected  him  into  the  dignity  of  an  earl.  Indeed,  it  is  not  impos- 
sible but  our  hero,  to  gain  the  more  respect  from  his  followers, 
or  they  to  derive  the  more  credit  to  their  profession,  may  have 
given  rise  to  such  a  report  themselves  :  for  we  find  it  recorded  in 
an  epitaph,  which,  if  genuine,  must  have  been  inscribed  on  his 
tombstone  near  the  nunnery  of  Kirklees  in  Yorkshire  ;  where  (as 
the  story  goes)  he  was  bled  to  death  by  a  treacherous  nun  to 
whom  he  applied  for  ])hlebotomy  : — 

"  Hear  undernead  dis  laitl  stean 
laij  robert  earl  of  huntingtun 
nea  arcir  ver  aj  hie  sac  geud 
an  pipl  kauld  im  Robin  Heud 


I04  ROBIN   HOOD    A^ND 


sick  utlaw^  as  hi  an  is  men 
vil  England  nivir  si  agen. 

obiit  24  kal.  dekembris.     1247."* 


This  epitaph  appears  to  me  suspicious ;  however,  a  late  an- 
tiquary has  given  a  pedigree  of  Robin  Hood,  which,  if  genuine, 
shows  that  he  had  real  pretensions  to  the  Earldom  of  Huntingdon, 
and  that  his  true  name  was  Robcft  Fitz-ooth.\  Yet  the  most 
ancient  poems  on  Robin  Hood  make  no  mention  of  this  earldom. 
He  is  expressly  asserted  to  have  been  a  yeoman  j  in  a  very  old 
legend  in  verse,  preserved  in  the  archives  of  the  public  library  at 
Cambridge,  §  in  €\^\.fyttes,  or  parts,  printed  in  black  letter,  quarto, 
thus  inscribed  :  "  <[  Here  begynneth  a  lytell  geste  of  Robyn  hode 
and  his  meyne,  and  of  the  proude  sheryfe  of  Notyngham."  The 
first  lines  are — 

"  Lithe  and  lysten,  gentylmen. 
That  be  of  fre-bore  blode  : 
I  shall  you  tell  of  a  good  yenian, 
His  name  was  Robyn  hode. 

"  Robyn  was  a  proude  out-lawe. 
Whiles  he  walked  on  grounde  ; 
So  curteyse  an  outlawe  as  he  was  one, 
Was  never  none  yfounde,"  &c. 

The  printer's  colophon  is,  "<[  Explicit  Kinge  Edwarde  and 
Robin  hode  and  Lyttel  Johan.  Enprented  at  London  in  Flete- 
strete  at  the  sygne  of  the  sone  by  Wynkin  de  Worde."  In  Mr. 
Gan'ick's  Collection  |1  is  a  different  edition  of  the  same  poem, 
"  |[  Imprinted  at  London  upon  the  thre  Crane  wharfe  by  Wyllyam 
Copland,"  containing  at  the  end  a  little  dramatic  piece  on  the  sub- 
ject of  Robin  Hood  and  the  Friar,  not  found  in  the  former  copy, 
called,  "  A  newe  playe  for  to  be  played  in  Maye  games  very 
plesaunte  and  full  of  pastyme.     |[  (.•.)  ]|." 

I  shall  conclude  these  preliminary  remarks  with  observing,  that 
the  hero  of  this  ballad  was  the  favourite  subject  of  popular  songs 
so  early  as  the  time  of  King  Edward  III.  In  the  Visions  of  Pierce 
Floiuman,  written  in  that  reign,  a  monk  says  : — 

"  I  can  rimes  of  Roben  Hod,  and  Randal  of  Chester, 
But  of  our  Lorde  and  our  Lady,  I  lerne  nothyng  at  all." 

Fol.  26,  ed.  1550. 

*  See  Thoresby's  Ducat.  Leod.  p.  576.     Biog.  Brit.  vi.  3933. 

t  Stukeley,  in  his  Palaographia  Britannica,  No.  II.  1746. 

X  See  also  the  following  ballad,  v.  147.  §  Num.  D.  5.  2. 

II  Old  Plays,  4to.  K.  vol,  x. 


GUY    OF    GISnORNE.  105 

See  also  in  Bishop  Latimer's  Sermons*  a  very  curious  and  charac- 
teristic story,  which  shows  what  respect  was  shown  to  the 
memory  of  our  archer  in  the  time  of  that  prelate. 

The  curious  reader  will  find  many  other  particulars  relating  to 
this  celebrated  outlaw,  in  Sir  John  Hawkins's  Hist,  of  Music, 
vol.  iii.  p.  410,  4to. 

For  the  catastrophe  of  Little  John,  who,  it  seems,  was  executed 
for  a  robber}'  on  Arbor-hill,  Dublin  (with  some  curious  particulars 
relating  to  his  skill  in  archery),  see  ]\Ir.  J.  C.  Walker's  ingenious 
Memoir  on  the  Armour  and  Weapons  of  the  Irish,  p.  129,  annexed 
to  his  Historical  Essay  on  the  Dress  of  the  Ancient  and  Modern 
Irish.     Dublin,  1788,  4to. 

Some  liberties  were,  by  the  editor,  taken  with  this  ballad ;  which, 
in  this  edition,  hath  been  brought  nearer  to  the  foUo  MS. 

[Robin  Hood  is  first  mentioned  in  literature  in  Piers  FlotviJian, 
the  earliest  of  the  three  fomis  of  which  poem  was  %\Tittcn  probably 
about  the  year  1362.  The  ballad  of  Robin  Hood  and  the  Monk, 
printed  in  Child's  English  and  Scottish  Ballads,  as  the  oldest  of 
its  class,  and  possibly  as  old  as  the  reign  of  Edward  IL,  com- 
mences:— 

"  In  somer  when  the  shawes  be  sheyne 
And  leves  be  large  and  longe 
Hit  is  full  mery  in  feyre  foreste 
To  here  the  foulys  song." 

Verses  which  bear  a  strong  likeness  to  the  opening  lines  of  the 
present  ballad. 

Gisborne  is  a  market  town  in  the  West  Riding  of  the  county  of 
York  on  the  borders  of  Lancashire,  and  Guy  of  that  i)lace  is  men- 
tioned by  William  Dunbar  in  a  satirical  piece  on  "  Schir  Thomas 
Nory,"  where  he  is  named  in  company  with  Adam  Bell  and  other 
well-kno\vn  worthies. 

It  is  not  needful  to  extend  this  note  with  any  further  particulars 
of  Robin  Hood,  as  he  possesses,  in  virtue  of  his  position  as  a 
popular  hero,  a  literature  of  his  own.  Those  who  wish  to  know 
more  of  his  exploits  should  consult  Ritson's  (1795)  and  Gutch's 
( 1 847)  Collections  oi  Robin  Hood  Ballads,  Child's  Ballads,  vol.  v.  and 
Chappell's  Popular  Music  of  the  Olden  Time,  vol.  i.  pp.  3S7-400. 

There  are  several  Robin  Hood  Ballads  in  the  folio  MS.,  but 
Percy  only  chose  the  one  containing  an  account  of  the  encounter 
with  Guy  for  printing.  Ritson  copied  this  ballad  from  Percy's 
book,  but  indulged  at  the  same  time  in  a  tirade  against  the  bishop's 
treatment  of  his  original.] 

•  Ser.  6th  before  K.  Ed.  Apr.  12.  fol.  75.  Gilpin's  Life  of  Lat.y 
p.  122. 


io6  ROBIN   HOOD    AND 


HEN  shaws  beene  sheene/  and  shradds^ 
full  fayre, 
And  leaves  both  large  and  longe, 
Itt  is  merrye  walking  in  the  fayre  forrest 
To  heare  the  small  birdes  songe. 

The  woodweele^  sang,  and  wold  not  cease,  5 

[Sitting  upon  the  spraye, 
Soe  lowde,  he  wakened  Robin  Hood, 

In  the  greenwood  where  he  lay. 

Now  by  my  faye,^  sayd  jollye  Robin, 

A  sweaven^  I  had  this  night ;  10 

I  dreamt  me  of  tow  wighty''  yemen, 

That  fast  with  me  can  fight.] 

Methought  they  did  mee  beate  and  binde. 

And  tooke  my  bow  mee  froe  ;  ^ 
If  I  be  Robin  alive  in  this  lande,  15 

He  be  wroken''  on  them  towe. 

Sweavens  are  swift,  Master,  quoth  John, 

As  the  wind  that  blowes  ore  a  hill ; 
For  if  itt  be  never  so  loude  this  night. 

To-morrow  itt  may  be  still.  20 


[Ver.  I.  shales,  f.  MS.  V.  4.  birds  singe,  f.  MS.  V.  5.  wood- 
weete,  f.  MS.  In  place  of  ver.  6-12  between  brackets  the  f.  MS. 
has — 

"  Amongst  the  leaves  a  lyne 
r*  *  *  *"| 

And  it  is  by  two  wight  yeomen 
By  deare  God  that  I  meane." 

^  when  woods  are  bright.       ^  twigs.       ^  woodpecker  or  thrush.  I) 

^  faith.  *  dream.  *•  strong.     '  from  me.  ( 

^  revenged.] 


GUY    OF    GISBORNE.  107 

Buske  yee,  bowne  yee,^  my  merry  men  all, 

And  John  shall  goe  with  mee, 
For  He  goe  seeke  yond  wight  yeomen, 

In  greenwood  where  the  bee. 

The  cast  on  their  gownes  of  grene,  25 

[And  tooke  theyr  bowes  each  one  ; 
And  they  away  to  the  greene  forrest] 

A  shooting  forth  are  gone  ; 

Untill  they  came  to  the  merry  greenwood. 

Where  they  had  gladdest  bee,  30 

There  were  the  ware"^  of  a  wight  yeoman, 
His  body  leaned  to  a  tree. 

A  sword  and  a  dagger  he  wore  by  his  side, 

Of  manye  a  man  the  bane  ; 
And  he  was  clad  in  his  capull  hyde'^  35 

Topp  and  tayll  and  mayne. 

Stand  you  still,  master,  quoth  Litle  John, 

Under  this  tree  so  grene, 
And  I  will  go  to  yond  wight  yeoman 

To  know  what  he  doth  meane.  40 

Ah  !  John,  by  me  thou  settest  noe  store. 

And  that  I  farley^  finde  : 
How  offt  send  I  my  men  beffore, 

And  tarry  my  selfe  behinde  ? 

It  is  no  cunning  a  knave  to  ken,  45 

And  a  man  but  heare  him  speake ; 


[Vcr.  28.  a  shooting  gone  are  they,  f.  MS.  V.  34.  had  bccnc 
many  a  mans  bane,  f.  MS.  V.  40.  to  know  his  meaning  trulyc, 
f.  MS.     V.  42.  and  thats  a  ffluley  tliinge,  f.  MS. 

'  dress  ye,  get  ye  ready.  "^  were  they  aware. 

'  horse-liide.  ^  strange.J 


io8  ROBIN   HOOD    AND 

And  itt  were  not  for  bursting  of  my  bowe, 
John,  I  thy  head  wold  breake. 

As  often  wordes  they  breeden  bale/ 

So  they  parted  Robin  and  John  ;  50 

And  John  is  gone  to  Barnesdale : 

The  gates*  he  knoweth  eche  one. 

But  when  he  came  to  Barnesdale, 

Great  heavinesse  there  hee  hadd, 
For  he  found  tow  of  his  owne  fellowes 

Were  slaine  both  in  a  slade."^ 


55 


And  Scarlette  he  was  flyinge  a-foote 

Fast  over  stocke  and  stone. 
For  the  sheriffe  with  seven  score  men 

Fast  after  him  is  gone.  60 

One  shoote  now  I  will  shoote,  quoth  John, 

With  Christ  his  might  and  mayne  ; 
He  make  yond  fellow  that  flyes  soe  fast. 

To  stopp  he  shall  be  fayne. 

Then  John  bent  up  his  long  bende-bowe,  65 

And  fetteled^  him  to  shoote  : 
The  bow  was  made  of  a  tender  boughe. 

And  fell  downe  to  his  foote. 

Woe  worth,  woe  worth  thee,  wicked  wood, 

That  ere  thou  grew  on  a  tree ;  70 


[Ver.  61.  yet  one  shoote  Tie  shoote,  says  Little  John,  f.  MS. 
V.  64.  to  be  both  glad  &  ffaine,  f.  MS.  V.  65.  John  bent  up  a 
good  veiwe  bowe,  f.  MS.  V.  69.  woe  worth  thee,  wicked  wood, 
says  litle  John,  f.  MS.] 

*  /.  e.  ways,  passes,  paths,  ridings.  Gate  is  a  common  word  in 
the  north  for  way. 

[^  breed  mischief.  2  greensward  between  two  woods. 


3 


prepared.] 


GUY    OF    GISBORNE.  109 

For  now  this  day  thou  art  my  bale, 
My  boote  ^  when  thou  shold  bee. 

His  shoote  it  was  but  loosely  shott, 

Yet  flewe  not  the  arrowe  in  vaine, 
For  itt  mett  one  of  the  sherriffes  men,  75 

Good  William  a  Trent  was  slaine. 

It  had  bene  better  of  William  a  Trent 

To  have  bene  abed  with  sorrowe, 
Than  to  be  that  day  in  the  green  wood  slade 

To  meet  with  Little  Johns  arrowe.  80 

But  as  it  is  said,  when  men  be  mett 

Fyve  can  doe  more  than  three, 
The  sheriffe  hath  taken  little  John, 

And  bound  him  fast  to  a  tree. 

Thou  shalt  be  drawen  by  dale  and  downe,  85 

And  hanged  hye  on  a  hill. 
But  thou  mayst  fayle  of  thy  purpose,  quoth  John, 

If  itt  be  Christ  his  will. 

Let  us  leave  talking  of  Litle  John, 

And  thinke  of  Robin  Hood,  90 

How  he  is  gone  to  the  wight  yeoman, 

Where  under  the  leaves  he  stood. 


[Ver.  74.  the  arrowe  flew  in  vaine,  f.  MS.  V.  78.  to  hange 
upon  a  gallowe,  f.  MS.  V.  79.  then  for  to  lye  in  the  green-woode, 
f.  MS.  V.  80.  there  slaine  with  an  arrowe,  f.  MS.  V.  82.  6  can 
doe  more  then  3,  f.  MS.  V.  83.  and  they  have  tane  litle  John,  f. 
MS.  V.  87.  But  thou  may  ffayle,  quoth  litle  John,  f.  MS.  V.  88. 
If  itt  be  Christ's  own  will,  f.  MS.  V.  90-92.  in  place  of  these  three 
verses  the  f.  MS.  has  : — 

"  for  hee  is  bound  fast  to  a  tree, 
and  talkc  of  (]uy  and  Robin  Hood 
In  they  green  woode  where  they  bee 

'  help.] 


no  ROBIN   HOOD    AND 

Good  morrowe,  good  fellowe,  sayd  Robin  so  fayre, 
"  Good  morrowe,  good  fellow,  quoth  he  :" 

Methinkes  by  this  bowe  thou  beares  in  thy  hande  95 
A  eood  archere  thou  sholdst  bee. 

I  am  wilfull  ^  of  my  waye,  quo'  the  yeman, 

And  of  my  morning  tyde. 
He  lead  thee  through  the  wood,  sayd  Robin  ; 

Good  fellow,  He  be  thy  guide.  100 

I  seeke  an  outlawe,  the  straunger  sayd, 

Men  call  him  Robin  Hood  ; 
Rather  Hd  meet  with  that  proud  outlawe 

Than  fortye  pound  soe  good. 

[Now  come  with  me,  thou  wighty  yeman,  105 

And  Robin  thou  soone  shalt  see  : 
But  first  let  us  some  pastime  find 

Under  the  oreenwood  tree.1 

First  let  us  some  masterye^  make 

Among  the  woods  so  even,  no 

[how  these  two  yeomen  together  they  mett 

under  the  leaves  of  Lyne, 
to  see  what  marchandise  they  made 

even  at  that  same  time." 

Ver.  93.  good  morrow,  good  fellow!  quoth  Sir  Guy,  f.  MS.- 
V.  96.  a  good  archer  thou  seems  to  bee,  f.  MS.  V.  97.  quoth  Sir, 
Guye,  i.  MS.     V.  10 1.  I  seeke  an  outlaw,  quoth  Sir  Guye,  f.  MS. 

V.  103-4.— 

"  I  had  rather  meet  with  him  upon  a  day 
Then  4oli.  of  golde." 

V.  105-8.       in  place  of  these  four  verses  the  f.  MS.  has — 

"  Iff  you  tow  mett  itt  wold  be  scene  whether  were  better 

afore  yee  did  part  awaye  ; 
Let  us  some  other  pastime  find, 

good  ffellow,  I  thee  pray." 

V.  109-10.    "  Let  us  some  other  masteryes  make, 

and  wee  will  walke  in  the  woods  even,"  f.  MS. 

^  ignorant.  ^  trial  of  skill.] 


GUY    OF    GISBORNE.  in 

Wee  may  chance  to  meet  with  Robin  Hood 
Here  att  some  unsett  Steven/ 

They  ciitt  them  downe  two  summer  shroggs,'^ 

That  orew  both  under  a  breere/ 
And  sett  them  threescore  rood  in  twaine  115 

To  shoote  the  prickes^  y-fere. 

Leade  on,  good  fellowe,  quoth  Robin  Hood, 

Leade  on,  I  doe  bidd  thee. 
Nay  by  my  faith,  good  fellowe,  hee  sayd. 

My  leader  thou  shalt  bee.  120 

The  first  time  Robin  shot  at  the  pricke, 

He  mist  but  an  inch  it  froe  : 
The  yeoman  he  was  an  archer  good. 

But  he  cold  never  shoote  soe. 

The  second  shoote  had  the  wightye  yeman,        125 

He  shote  within  the  garlande  :^ 
But  Robin  he  shott  far  better  than  hee, 

For  he  clave  the  good  pricke  w^ande.^' 

A  blessing  upon  thy  heart,  he  sayd ; 

Good  fellowe,  thy  shooting  is  goode  ;  130 

For  an  thy  hart  be  as  good  as  thy  hand. 

Thou  wert  better  then  Robin  Hoode. 


[Ver.  116.  prickes  full  near,  f.  MS.     V.   117.  sayd  Sir  CTiiye,  f. 

MS.    V.  119.  nay  by  my  faith,  quoth  Robin  Hood,  f.  MS.    V.  120. 

the  leader,  f.  MS.     V.  121-23  • — 

"  the  first  good  shoot  that  Robin  ledd 
did  not  shoote  an  inch  the  pricke  ffroe. 
Guy  was  an  archer  good  enoughe." 

V.  125.  the  2nd  shoote  Sir  Guy  shott.     V.  129.  gods  blessing  on 
thy  heart !  sayes  Guye. 

^  at  a  time  not  previously  appointed.  '^  slirubs. 

^  briar.  '  mark  in  the  centre  of  the  target. 

*"  the  ring  within  whicli  the  ])rick  was  set.  •*  pole.] 


112  ROBIN    HOOD    AND 

Now  tell  me  thy  name,  good  fellowe,  sayd  he, 

Under  the  leaves  of  lyne/ 
Nay  by  my  faith,  quoth  bolde  Robin,  135 

Till  thou  have  told  me  thine. 

I  dwell  by  dale  and  downe,  quoth  hee. 

And  Robin  to  take  I  me  sworne ; 
And  when  I  am  called  by  my  right  name 

I  am  Guye  of  good  Gisborne.  140 

My  dwelling  is  in  this  wood,  sayes  Robin, 

By  thee  I  set  right  nought : 
I  am  Robin  Hood  of  Barnesdale, 

Whom  thou  so  lono-  hast  souo;'ht. 

He  that  had  neither  beene  kithe  nor  kin,  145 

Might  have  seene  a  full  fayre  sight, 

To  see  how  together  these  yeomen  went 
With  blades  both  browne*  and  brieht. 

[Ver.  133.  tell  me  thy  name,  good  fellow,  quoth  Guy.  V.  135. 
good  robin.     V.  136-140: — 

"  I  dwell  by  dale  and  downe,  quoth  Guye, 
and  I  have  done  many  a  curst  turne ; 
and  he  that  calles  me  by  my  right  name, 
calles  me  Guy  of  good  Gysborne." 

V.  144.  a  ffellow  thou  hast  long  sought.] 

*  The  common  epithet  for  a  sword  or  other  offensive  weapon, 
in  the  old  metrical  romances  is  Brown,  as  "brown  brand,"  or 
"  brown  sword,"  "  brown  bill,"  &c.,  and  sometimes  even  "  bright 
brown  sword."  Chaucer  applies  the  word  rusiiem  the  same  sense ; 
thus  he  describes  the  reve  : — 

"  And  by  his  side  he  bare  a  rusty  blade." 

Frol.  ver.  620. 
And  even  thus  the  God  Mars : — 

"  And  in  his  hand  he  had  a  rousty  sword." 

Test,  of  Cressid.  188. 
Spenser  has   sometimes  used  the  same  epithet.      See  Warton's 

[1  lime.] 


GC/V    OF    GISBORNE.  113 

To  see  how  these  yeomen  together  they  fought 
Two  howres  of  a  summers  day  :  150 

Yett  neither  Robin  Hood  nor  sir  Guy 
Them  fettled  to  flye  away. 

Robin  was  reachles^  on  a  roote, 

And  stumbled  at  that  tyde  ; 
And  Guy  was  quicke  and  nimble  with-all,  155 

And  hitt  him  ore  the  left  side. 

Ah  deere  Lady,  sayd  Robin  Hood,  tho 

That  art  both  mother  and  may',"^ 
I  think  it  was  never  mans  destinye 

To  dye  before  his  day.  160 

Robin  thought  on  our  ladye  deere, 

And  soone  leapt  up  againe, 
And  strait  he  came  with  a  "  backward"  stroke, 

And  he  sir  Guy  hath  slayne. 

He  took  sir  Guys  head  by  the  hayre,  165 

And  sticked  itt  on  his  bowes  end : 
Thou  hast  beene  a  traytor  all  thy  liffe, 

Which  thinfj  must  have  an  ende. 

o 


Obscrv.  vol.  ii.  p.  62.  It  should  seem,  from  this  particularity,  that 
our  ancestors  did  not  pique  themselves  upon  keeping  their  weapons 
bright :  perhaps  they  deemed  it  more  honourable  to  carry  them 
stained  with  the  blood  of  their  enemies.  [As  the  swords  are  here 
said  to  be  bright  as  well  as  brown,  they  could  not  have  been 
rusty.  The  expression  nut-brown  sword  was  used  to  designate  a 
Damascus  blade. 

Ver.  1 49.  "  to  have  seen  how  these  yeomen  together  fought." 
V.  151-2:— 

"  itt  was  neither  Guy  nor  Robin  Hood 
that  ffctlled  ihcm  to  llye  away."J 

V.  163.  awkwarde,  MS.    [V.  164.  "  good  sir  Guy  hee  has  slayne," 
f.  MS. 

'  careless.  ^  maid.  J 

1 


I80 


114  RODIN   HOOD    AND 

Robin  pulled  forth  an  Irish  kniffe, 

And  nicked  sir  Guy  in  the  face,  170 

That  he  was  never  on  woman  born, 

Cold  tell  whose  head  it  was. 

Saies,  Lye  there,  lye  there,  now  sir  Guye, 

And  with  me  be  not  wrothe  ; 
If  thou  have  had  the  worse  strokes  at  my  hand,  175 

Thou  shalt  have  the  better  clothe. 

Robin  did  off  his  gowne  of  greene, 

And  on  sir  Guy  did  it  throwe. 
And  hee  put  on  that  capull  hyde, 

That  cladd  him  topp  to  toe. 

The  bowe,  the  arrowes,  and  little  home, 

Now  with  me  I  will  beare  ; 
For  I  will  away  to  Barnesdale, 

To  see  how  my  men  doe  fare. 

Robin  Hood  sett  Guyes  home  to  his  mouth. 

And  a  loud  blast  in  it  did  blow. 
That  beheard  the  sheriffe  of  Nottingham, 

As  he  leaned  under  a  lowe.^ 

Hearken,  hearken,  sayd  the  sheriffe, 

I  heare  nowe  tydings  good,  190 

For  yonder  I  heare  sir  Guyes  home  blowe, 

And  he  hath  slaine  Robin  Hoode. 

Yonder  I  heare  sir  Guyes  home  blowe, 

Itt  blowes  soe  well  in  tyde, 
And  yonder  comes  that  wightye  yeoman,  195 

Cladd  in  his  capull  hyde. 


[Ver.  172.  cold  tell  who  Sir  Guye  was.    V.  173.  good  Sir  Guye. 
V.  182  :— 

"  and  with  me  now  He  beare 

ffor  now  I  will  goe  to  Barnesdale,"  f.  MS. 

1  small  hill] 


185 


GUY    OF    GISBORNE.  115 

Come  hyther,  come  hyther,  thou  good  sir  Guy, 

Aske  what  thou  wilt  of  mee. 
O  I  will  none  of  thy  gold,  sayd  Robin, 

Nor  I  will  none  of  thy  fee  :  200 

But  now  I  have  slaine  the  master,  he  sayes. 

Let  me  go  strike  the  knave ; 
This  is  all  the  rewarde  I  aske ; 

Nor  noe  other  will  I  have. 

Thou  art  a  madman,  said  the  sheriffe,  205 

Thou  sholdest  have  had  a  knights  fee  : 

But  seeing  thy  asking  hath  beene  soe  bad. 
Well  granted  it  shale  be. 

When  Litle  John  heard  his  master  speake, 

Well  knewe  he  it  was  his  Steven  •}  210 

Now  shall  I  be  looset,  quoth  Litle  John, 
With  Christ  his  mieht  in  heaven. 


t) 


Fast  Robin  hee  hyed  him  to  Little  John, 

He  thought  to  loose  him  belive  ;^ 
The  sheriffe  and  all  his  companye  215 

Fast  after  him  did  drive. 

Stand  abacke,  stand  abacke,  sayd  Robin  ; 

Why  draw  you  mee  soe  neere  ? 
Itt  was  never  the  use  in  our  countrye. 

Ones  shrift  another  shold  heere.  220 

But  Robin  pulled  forth  an  Irysh  kniffe, 

And  losed  John  hand  and  foote. 
And  gave  him  sir  Guycs  bow  into  his  hand, 

And  bade  it  be  his  boote.' 

[Vcr.  199:  — 

"  He  none  of  thy  gold,  sayes  Robin  Hood 
nor  lie  none  of  itt  have,"  f  MS. 

'  voice.  2  quickly.  ■*  help.] 


ii6  ROBIN   HOOD. 

Then  John  he  took  Guyes  bow  in  his  hand,        225 

His  boltes  and  arrowes  eche  one  : 
When  the  sheriffe  saw  Little  John  bend  his  bow, 

He  fettled  him  to  be  gone. 

Towards  his  house  in  Nottingham  towne, 

He  fled  full  fast  away  ;  230 

And  soe  did  all  his  companye  : 
Not  one  behind  wold  stay. 

But  he  cold  neither  runne  soe  fast, 

Nor  away  soe  fast  cold  ryde, 
But  Litle  John  with  an  arrowe  soe  broad,  235 

He  shott  him  into  the  *  backe'-syde. 

*,*  The  title  of  Sir  was  not  formerly  peculiar  to  knights,  it  was 
given  to  priests,  and  sometimes  to  very  inferior  personages. 

Dr.  Johnson  thinks  this  title  was  applied  to  such  as  had  taken 
the  degree  of  A.  B.  in  the  universities,  who  are  still  stiled,  Domini, 
"Sirs,"  to  distinguish  them  from  Undergraduates,  who  have 
no  prefix,  and  from  Masters  of  Arts,  who  are  stiled  Magistri, 
"  Masters." 

[Ver.  225-8  : — 

"  But  John  tooke  Guyes  bow  in  his  hand, 
his  arrowes  were  rawstye  by  the  roote ; 

the  sherriffe  saw  little  John  draw  a  bow 
and  ffettle  him  to  shoote." 

V.  229.  Towards  his  house  in  Nottingham.     V.  233-6  : — 

"  But  he  cold  neither  soe  fast  goe, 

nor  away  soe  fast  runn, 
but  litle  John  with  an  arrow  broade 

did  cleave  his  head  in  twinn,"  f.  MS.] 


EARL    OF  NORTHUMBERLAND.    117 


IX. 

AN  ELEGY  ON    HENRY  FOURTH  EARL 
OF  NORTHUMBERLAND. 


*HE  subject  of  this  poem,  which  was  written  by  Skelton, 
^^P  is  ^^^^  death  of  Henry  Percy,  fourth  earl  of  Northumber- 
/•  9^  land,  who  fell  a  victim  to  the  avarice  of  Henry  VII.  In 
14S9  the  parliament  had  granted  the  king  a  subsidy  for 
carrying  on  the  war  in  Bretagne.  This  tax  was  found  so  heavy  in 
the  North,  that  the  whole  country  was  in  a  flame.  The  E.  of  Nor- 
thumberland, then  lord  lieutenant  for  Yorkshire,  %vrote  to  inform  the 
king  of  the  discontent,  and  praying  an  abatement.  But  nothing  is 
so  unrelenting  as  avarice  :  the  king  wTote  back  that  not  a  penny 
should  be  abated.  This  message  being  delivered  by  the  earl  with 
too  little  caution,  the  populace  rose,  and,  supposing  him  to  be  the 
promoter  of  their  calamity,  broke  into  his  house,  and  murdered  him, 
with  several  of  his  attendants,  who  yet  are  charged  by  Skelton  Avith 
being  backward  in  their  duty  on  this  occasion.  This  melancholy 
event  happened  at  the  earl's  seat  at  Cocklodge,  near  Thirske,  in 
Yorkshire,  April  28,  1489.     See  Lord  Bacon,  &c. 

If  the  reader  does  not  find  much  poetical  merit  in  this  old  poem 
(which  yet  is  one  of  Skelton's  best),  he  will  see  a  striking  picture  of 
the  state  and  magnificence  kept  up  by  our  ancient'nobility  during 
the  feudal  times.  This  great  earl  is  described  liere  as  having,  among 
his  menial  serva.nts,  htig/ih',  s//uires,  and  even  barons:  see  v.  32. 
183.  &:c.  which,  however  different  from  modern  manners,  was  for- 
merly not  unusual  with  our  greater  barons,  whose  castles  had  all  the 
splendour  and  offices  of  a  royal  court  before  the  laws  against  re- 
tainers abridged  and  limited  the  number  of  their  attendants. 

John  Sliclton,  who  commonly  styled  himself  Poet  Layreat,  died 
June  21,  1529.  The  following  poem,  which  ajjpears  to  have  been 
\\Titten  soon  after  the  event,  is  printed  from  an  ancient  MS.  copy 
preserved  in  the  British  Museum,  being  much  more  correct  than 
that  printed  among  Skelton's  Poems  \x\  1)1.  let.  i2mo.  1568.— It  is 
addressed  to  Henry  Percy,  fifth  earl  of  Northumberland,  and  is  pre- 
faced, &c.  in  the  following  manner : 


ii8     AN   ELEGY    ON    THE    EARL 

PoETA  Skelton  Laureatus  libellum  suum  metrice 

ALLOQUITUR. 

Ad  dominum  properato  meum  mea  pagina  Percy, 

Qui  Northumbrorum  jura  paterna  gerit, 
Ad  nutum  Celebris  tu  prona  repone  leonis, 

Qujeque  suo  patri  tristia  justa  cano. 
Ast  ubi  perlegit,  dubiam  sub  mente  volutet 

Fortunam,  cuncta  quae  male  fida  rotat. 
Qui  leo  sit  felix,  &  Nestoris  occupet  annos ; 

Ad  libitum  cujus  ipse  paratus  ero. 

[Percy  does  not  do  justice  to  Skelton's  poetical  powers  in  the 
above  note,  as  this  Elegy  is  written  in  a  style  not  at  all  characteristic 
of  him  and  is  also  far  from  being  one  of  his  best  poems.  Skelton 
was  one  of  the  earliest  personal  satirists  in  our  language,  and  he  flew 
at  high  game  when  he  attacked  the  powerful  Wolsey  ^vith  fierce 
invective,  in  his  "Why  come  ye  nat  to  courte?"  His  Boke  of 
Phyllyp  Span-owe  is  described  by  Coleridge  as  "  an  exquisite  and 
original  poem,"  and  its  subject  entitles  him  to  the  designation  of  the 
modern  Catullus.  It  was  very  popular  in  his  day,  and  the  nursery 
rhyme  of  Who  killed  Cock  robin?  was  probably  paraphrased 
from  the  portion  of  the  poem  in  which  the  funeral  of  the  sparrow 
is  related.  Skelton  was  a  distinguished  scholar  and  his  earlier 
poems  are  written  in  the  serious  strain  of  the  Elegy,  but  curiously 
enough  about  the  time  that  he  took  orders  (1498)  and  became  rector 
of  Diss  in  Norfolk,  he  began  to  write  in  a  more  natural,  frolicsome 
and  satirical  vein,  and  adopted  the  metre  now  known  as  Skeltonian. 
He  was  not  very  particular  as  to  the  words  he  used,  but  he  does 
not  deserve  the  opprobrious  epithet  that  Pope  applies  to  him  in  the 
couplet — 

"  Chaucer's  worst  ribaldry  is  learned  by  rote, 
And  beastly  Skelton  heads  of  houses  quote." 

Skelton  graduated  as  poet  laureate  at  the  two  Universities  of 
Oxford  and  Cambridge,  and  the  King  allowed  him  to  wear  an 
appropriate  decoration  at  court.  There  is  a  full  length  portrait  of 
the  poet  in  Brjdges'  British  Bibliographer  (vol.  iv.  p.  389),  taken 
from  one  on  the  back  of  the  title  of  A  ryght  delectable  tratyse  upon 
a  goodly  Garlatide  or  Chaplet  of  Latcrell  by  Mayster  Skelton,  Foete 
laiireat. 

The  Rev.  Alexander  Dyce  published  the  first  complete  collected 
edition  of  Skelton's  Poetical  Works  in  1843  (2  vols.  8vo.)] 


OF   NORTHUMBERLAND. 


119 


SKELTON   LAUREAT   UPON   THE   DOLORUS  DETHE 

AND  MUCH  LAMENTABLE  CHAUNCE  OF  THE 

MOOST  HONORABLE  ERLE  OF 

NORTHUMBERLANDE. 


7^(^  WAYLE,  I  wepe,  I  sobbe,  I  sigh  ful  sore 

\^^     The  dedely  fate,  the  dolefulle  destenny 

Of  him  that  is  gone,  alas!  withoute  restore. 

Of  the  blode*  royall  descendinge  nobelly; 

Whos  lordshepe  doutles  was  slayne  lamentably     5 

Thorow  treson  ageyn^  hym  compassyd  and  wrought ; 

Trew  to  his  prince,  in  word,  in  dede,  and  thought. 

Of  hevenly  poems,  O  Clyo  calde  by  name 
In  the  college  of  musis  goddess  hystoriall, 

Adres  the  to  me,  whiche  am  both  halt  and  lame 
In  elect  uteraunce  to  make  memoryall : 
To  the  for  soccour,  to  the  for  helpe  I  call 

Myne  homely  rudnes  and  drighnes  to  expelle 

With  the  freshe  waters  of  Elyconys^  welle. 


10 


Of  noble  actes  auncyently  enrolde. 

Of  famous  princis  and  lordes  of  astate,^ 
By  thy  report  ar  wonte  to  be  extold, 


IS 


*  The  mother  of  Henry,  first  Earl  of  Northumberland,  was  Mary- 
daughter  to  Henry  E.  of  Lancaster,  whose  father  Edmond  was 
second  son  of  K.  Henry  HL — The  mother  and  wife  of  the  second 
Earl  of  Northumberland  were  both  lineal  descendants  of  K.  Edward 
HL — The  Percys  also  were  lineally  descended  from  the  Emperour 
Charlemagne  and  the  ancient  Kings  of  France,  by  his  ancestor 
Josceline  de  Lovain  (son  of  Godfrey  Duke  of  Brabant),  who  took 
tlie  name  of  Percy  on  marrying  the  heiress  of  that  house  in  the  reign 
of  Hen.  H.     Vid.  Camden  ISritan.,  Edmondson,  &c. 


\}  against 


2  Helicons. 


"*  estate.] 


I20    AN   ELEGY    ON    THE    EARL 

Regestringe  trewly  every  formare  date ; 

Of  thy  bountie  after  the  usiiall  rate, 
Kyndle  in  me  suche  plenty  of  thy  nobles/  ^o 

Thes  sorrowfulle  dities  that  I  may  shew  expres. 

In  sesons  past  who  hathe  harde  or  sene 
Of  formar  writinge  by  any  presidente 

That  vilane  hastarddis^  in  ther  furious  tene/ 

Fulfyld  with  malice  of  fro  ward  entente,  25 

Confeterd^  togeder  of  commoun  concente 

Falsly  to  slo^  ther  moste  singular  goode  lorde  ? 

It  may  be  registerde  of  shamefull  recorde. 

So  noble  a  man,  so  valiaunt  lorde  and  knight, 

Fulfilled  with  honor,  as  all  the  worlde  dothe  ken ;  30 

At  his  commaundement,  whiche  had  both  day  and  night 
Knyghtis  and  squyers,  at  every  season  when 
He  calde  upon  them,  as  menyall  houshold  men  : 

Were  no  thes  commones  uncurteis  karlis  of  kynde^ 

To  slotheirownelorde?  God  was  not  in  their  minde.  35 

And  were  not  they  to  blame,  I  say  also, 

That  were  aboute  hym,  his  owne  servants  of  trust, 

To  suffre  hym  slayn  of  his  mortall  fo  ? 

Fled  away  from  hym,  let  hym  ly  in  the  dust : 
They  bode^  not  till  the  rekening  were  discust.      40 

What  shuld  I  flatter  ?  what  shulde  I  glose^  or  paynt  ? 

Fy,  fy  for  shame,  their  harts  wer  to  faint. 

In  Englande  and  Fraunce,  which  gretlywas  redouted;^ 
Of  whom  both  Flaunders  and  Scotland  stode  in 
drede ; 

To  whome  grete  astates  obeyde  and  lowttede  i^"  45 
A  mayny^^  of  rude  villayns  made  him  for  to  blede : 
Unkindly  they  slew  hym,  that  holp  them  oft  at  nede : 

[^  nobleness.         ^  rough  fellows.        ^  wrath.       "*  confederated. 
^  slay.  ^  churls  by  nature.  '^  abode.      ^  gloss  over. 

°  dreaded.  *" ,  crouched.  ^^  a  number.] 


OF   NORTHUMBERLAND.        121 

He  was  their  bulwark,  their  paves/  and  their  wall, 
Yet  shamfully  they  slew  hym;  that  shame  mot'^  them 
befal. 

I  sa}-,  ye  commoners,  why  wer  ye  so  stark  mad  ?     50 
What  frantyk  frensy  fyll''  in  youre  brayne  ? 

Where  was  your  wit  and  reson,  ye  shuld  have  had  ? 
What  willfull  foly  made  yow  to  ryse  agayne^ 
Your  naturall  lord  ?  alas  !  I  can  not  fayne. 

Ye  armed  you  with  will,  and  left  your  wit  behynd;  55 

Well  may  you  be  called  comones  most  unkynd. 

He  was  your  chyfteyne,your  shelde,  your  chef  defence, 
Redy  to  assyst  you  in  every  tyme  of  nede  : 

Your  worship^  depended  of  his  excellence  : 

Alas  !  ye  mad  men,  to  far  ye  did  excede  :  60 

Your  hap  was  unhappy,  to  ill  was  your  spede  : 

What  movyd  you  agayn  h)m  to  war  or  to  fight  ? 

What  aylde  you  to  sle  your  lord  agyn  all  right  ? 

The  grounde  of  his  quarel  was  for  his  sovereyn  lord, 
The  welle  concernyng  of  all  the  hole  lande,  65 

Demaundyng  soche  dutyes  as  nedis  most  acord 
To  the  right  of  his  prince  which  shold  not  be  with- 
stand ; 
For  whos  cause  ye  slew  hym  with  your  awne  hande: 

But  had  his  nobill  men  done  wel  that  day, 

Ye  had  not  been  hable  to  have  saide  him  nay.  70 

But  thcr  was  fals  packinge,**  or  els  I  am  begylde  :   - 
How-be-it  the  matter  was  evident  and  playne, 

For  yf  they  had  occupied^  ther  spere  and  ther  shelde, 
This  noble  man  doutles  had  not  be  slayne. 
Bot  men  say  they  wer  lynked  with  a  double  chayn,75 

And  held  with  the  commouns  under  a  cloke, 

Whiche  kindeled  the  wyld  fyre  that  made  all  this 
smoke. 

[^  large  shield.         ^  may.         ^  fell.         ■*  against. 
'  honour.  *  false  dealing.  '*  used.] 


122    AN   ELEGY   ON    THE    EARL 

The  commouns  renyed^  ther  taxes  to  pay 

Of  them  demaunded  and  asked  by  the  kinge  ; 

With  one  voice  importune,  they  playnly  said  nay  :  80 
They  buskt  them  on  a  bushment^  themself  in  baile^ 

to  bringe  : 
Agayne  the  kings  plesure  to  wrastle  or  to  wringe,* 

Bluntly  as  bestis  withe  boste^  and  with  cry 

They  saide,  they  forsede^  not,  nor  carede  not  to  dy. 

The  noblenes  of  the  northe  this  valiant  lorde  and 
knyght,  85 

As  man  that  was  innocent  of  trechery  or  trayne, 

Presed  forthe  boldly  to  witstand  the  myght, 

And,  lyke  marciall  Hector,  he  fauht  them  agayne, 
Vigorously  upon  them  with  myght  and  with  mayne, 

Trustinge  in  noble  men  that  wer  with  hym  there  :  90 

Bot  all  they  fled  from  hym  for  falshode  or  fere. 

Barons,  knights,  squyers,  one  and  alle, 
Togeder  with  servaunts  of  his  famuly, 

Turnid  their  backis,  and  let  ther  master  fall, 

Of  whos  [life]  they  counted  not  a  fiye;  95 

Take  up  whos  wolde  for  them,  they  let  hym  ly. 

Alas !  his  golde,  his  fee,  his  annuall  rente 

Upon  suche  a  sort'  was  ille  bestowde  and  spent. 

He  was  envyronde  aboute  on  every  syde 

Withe    his    enemys,   that    were    stark  mad    and 
wojde  \^  100 

Yet  whils  he  stode  he  gave  them  woundes  wyde  : 
Alas .  for  routhe  !  ^  what  thouche  his  mynde  were 

goode, 
His  corage  manly,  yet  ther  he  shed  his  bloode  ! 
All  left  alone,  alas  !  he  fawte  in  vayne  ; 
For  cruelly  amonge  them  ther  he  was  slayne.  105 

S}  refused.        2  thgy  prepared  themselves  for  an  ambush. 
^  trouble.        ^  contend.        ^  pride.         ^  heeded.         '  set. 
**  wild.  '-^  pity-] 


OF   NORTHUMBERLAND.        123 

Alas  for  pite !  that  Percy  thus  was  spylt/ 
The  famous  erle  of  Northumberlande  : 

Of  knightly  prowes  the  sworde  pomel  and  hylt, 
The  myghty  lyoun*"  doutted'^  by  se  and  lande ! 
O  dolorous  chaunce  of  fortuns  fruward  hande  !    no 

What  man  remembring  how  shamfully  he  was  slayne, 

From  bitter  weepinge  hymself  kan  restrayne  ? 

O  cruell  Mars,  thou  dedly  god  of  war ! 

O  dolorous  teusday,  dedicate  to  thy  name, 

When  thou  shoke  thy  sworde  so  noble  a  man  to 
mar!  115 

O  grounde  ungracious,  unhappy  be  thy  fame, 
Whiche  wert  endyed  with  rede  blode  of  the  same  ! 

Moste  noble  erle  !  O  fowle  mysuryd''  grounde 

Whereon  he  gat  his  fynal  dedely  wounde ! 

O  Atropos,  of  the  fatall  systers  thre,  120 

Goddes  mooste  cruell  unto  the  lyf  of  man. 

All  merciles,  in  the  ys  no  pite ! 

O  homycide,  whiche  sleest*  all  that  thou  kan, 
So  forcibly  upon  this  erle  thow  ran, 

That  with  thy  sworde  enharpid^  of  mortall  drede,  125 

Thou  kit^  asonder  his  perhght^  vitall  threde  ! 

My  wordis  unpullysht  be  nakide  and  playne, 
Of  aureat"  poems  they  want  ellumynynge  ;  ^ 

Bot  by  them  to  knoulege  ye  may  attayne 

Of  this  lordis  dethe  and  of  his  murdrynge.  130 

Which  whils  helyvyd  had  fuyson^"  of  every  thing. 

Of  knights,  of  squyers,  chef  lord  of  toure  and  toune, 

Tyl  fykkilP^  fortune  began  on  hym  to  frowne. 

*  Alluding  to  his  crest  and  supporters.     Doutted  is  contracted 
for  redoubted. 

\}  destroyed.  "^  dreaded. 

^  misused,  applied  to  a  bad  purpose.  '  slayest. 

^  hooked  or  edged.         "  cut.  ^  perfect.         *  golden. 

^  embellishing.  ^"^  abundance.  ''  fickle.] 


124    AN   ELEGY   ON    THE    EARL 

ParegalP  to  dukis,  with  kings  he  myght  compare, 
Surmountinge  in  honor  all  erls  he  did  excede,    135 

To  all  cuntreis  aboute  hym  reporte^  me  I  dare. 
Lyke  to  Eneas  benygne  in  worde  and  dede, 
Valiaunt  as  Hector  in  every  marciall  nede, 

Provydent,  discrete,  circumspect,  and  wyse,  139 

Tyll  the  chaunce  ran  agyne  him  of  fortunes  duble 
dyse. 

What  nedethe  me  for  to  extoU  his  fame 

With  my  rude  pen  enkankerd  all  with  rust  ? 

Whos  noble  actis  shew  worsheply  his  name, 

Transcendyng  far  myne  homely  muse,  that  must 
Yet  sumwhat  wright  supprisid  with  hartly  lust,^  145 

Truly  reportinge  his  right  noble  astate. 

Immortally  whiche  is  immaculate. 

His  noble  blode  never  disteynyd  was, 

Trew  to  his  prince  for  to  defende  his  right, 

Doublenes  hatinge,  fals  maters  to  compas,  150 

Treytory^  and  treson  he  bannesht  out  of  syght, 
With  trowth  to  medle  was  all  his  hole  delyght, 

As  all  his  kuntrey  kan  testefy  the  same  : 

To  slo  suche  a  lord,  alas,  it  was  grete  shame. 

If  the  hole  quere^  of  the  musis  nyne  155 

In  me  all  onely  wer  sett  and  comprisyde, 

Enbrethed  with  the  blast  of  influence  dyvyne. 
As  perfightly  as  could  be  thought  or  devysyd  ; 
To  me  also  allthouche  it  were  promysyde 

Of  laureat  Phebus  holy  the  eloquence,  160 

All  were  to  litill  for  his  magnyficence. 

O  yonge  lyon,  bot  tender  yet  of  age,^ 

Grow  and  encrese,  remembre  thyn  astate, 
God  the  assyst  unto  thyn  herytage, 

[^  equal.         ^  refer.         ^  overpowered  with  hearty  desire. 
"*  treachery.  *  whole  choir. 

*  the  earl's  son  was  only  eleven  years  old  at  the  time  of  his 
father's  death.] 


OF   NORTHUMBERLAND.        125 

And  geve  the  grace  to  be  more  fortunate,  165 

Agayne  rebellyouns  arme  to  make  debate. 
And,  as  the  lyoune,  whiche  is  of  bestis  kinge. 
Unto  thy  subjectis  be  kurteis  and  benyngne. 

I  pray  God  sende  the  prosperous  lyf  and  long, 
Stabille  thy  mynde  constant  to  be  and  fast,         170 

Right  to  mayntein,  and  to  resist  all  wronge  : 
All  flattringe  faytors^  abhor  and  from  the  cast, 
Of  foule  detraction  God  kepe  the  from  the  blast : 

Let  double  delinge  in  the  have  no  place, 

And  be  not  light  of  credence  in  no  case.  175 

Wythe  hevy  chere,  with  dolorous  hart  and  mynd, 
Eche  man  may  sorrow  in  his  inward  thought, 

Th)'s  lords  death,  whose  pere  is  hard  to  fynd 

Allgyf^  Englond  and  Fraunce  were  thorow  saught. 
Al  kings,  all  princes,  all  dukes,  well  they  ought  iSo 

Bothe  temporal!  and  spirituall  for  to  complayne 

This  noble  man,  that  crewelly  was  slayne. 

More  specially  barons,  and  those  knygtes  bold. 
And  all  other  gentilmen  with  hym  enterteynd 

In  fee,  as  menyall  men  of  his  housold,  185 

Whom  he  as  lord  worsheply  manteynd  : 
To  sorowfull  weping  they  ought  to  be  constreynd, 

As  oft  as  thei  call  to  ther  remembraunce. 

Of  ther  good  lord  the  fate  and  dedely  chaunce. 

O  perlese  prince  of  hevyn  emperyalle,  190 

That  with  one  worde  formed  al  thinsf  of  nou^hte; 

Hevyn,  hell,  and  erth  obey  unto  thi  kail ; 

Which  to  thy  resemblance  wondcrsly  hast  wrought 
All  mankynd,  whom  thou  full  dere  hast  boght. 

With  thy  blode  precious  our  finaunce''  thou  dyd  pay,i95 

And  us  redemed,  from  the  fendys  pray  ; ' 


[^  deceivers.        ^  although.         ^  fine  or  forfeiture. 
^  prey  of  the  fiends.] 


126    EARL    OF  NORTHUMBERLAND. 

To  the  pray  we,  as  prince  Incomperable, 
As  thou  art  of  mercy  and  pite  the  well, 

Thou  bringe  unto  thy  joye  etermynable^ 

The  sowle  of  this  lorde  from  all  daunger  of  hell,  200 
In  endles  blis  with  the  to  byde  and  dwell 

In  thy  palace  above  the  orient, 

Where  thou  art  lorde,  and  God  omnipotent. 

O  queue  of  mercy,  O  lady  full  of  grace. 

Maiden  moste  pure,  and  goddis  moder  dere,       205 

To  sorowfull  harts  chef  comfort  and  solace, 
Of  all  women  O  fioure  withouten  pere. 
Pray  to  thy  son  above  the  starris  clere, 

He  to  vouchesaf  by  thy  mediatioun 

To  pardon  thy  servant,  and  bringe  to  salvacion.    210 

In  joy  triumphaunt  the  hevenly  yerarchy,'^ 

With  all  the  hole  sorte  ^  of  that  glorious  place, 

His  soule  mof*  receyve  into  ther  company 

Thorowe  bounte  of  hym  that  formed  all  solace  : 
Well  of  pite,  of  mercy,  and  of  grace,  215 

The  father,  the  son,  and  the  holy  goste 

In  Trinitate  one  God  of  myghts  moste. 

tit  I  have  placed  the  foregoing  poem  of  Skelton's  before  the  fol- 
lowing extract  from  Halves,  not  only  because  it  was  written  first, 
but  because  I  think  Skelton  is  in  general  to  be  considered  as  the 
earlier  poet;  many  of  his  poems  being  written  long  h^{o\t  Halves' s 
Graunde  Amour. 

\}  interminable.  2  hierarchy. 

2  whole  company.  ^  may.] 


THE    TOWER   OF  DOCTRINE.     127 


X. 

THE  TOWER  OF  DOCTRINE. 

'  ^^HE  reader  has  here  a  specimen  of  the  descriptive  powers 
.,^y  of  StcpJun  Hawcs,  a  celebrated  poet  in  the  reign  of 
Hen.  VII.  tho'  now  little  known.  It  is  extracted  from 
an  allegorical  poem  of  his  (^mtten  in  1505.)  intitled, 
History  of  Graunde  Amour e  and  La  Bel  Pucell,  called  the 
Pastime  of  Pleasure,  o^c.  4to.  1555.  See  more  of  Hawes  in  Ath. 
Ox.  V.  I.  p.  6.  and  Warton's  Ohserv.  v.  2.  p.  105.  He  was  also 
author  of  a  book,  intitled,  The  Temple  of  Glass.  IVrote  by  Stephen 
Hazces,  gentle /nan  of  the  bedchamber  to  K.  Henry  VII.  Pr.  for  Caxton, 
4to.  no  date. 

The  following  Stanzas  are  taken  from  Chap.  III.  and  IV.  of  the 
Hist,  above-mentioned.  '*  How  Fame  departed  from  Graunde 
Amoure  and  left  him  \nth  Governaunce  and  Grace,  and  how  he 
went  to  the  Tower  of  Doctrine,  &c." — As  we  are  able  to  give  no 
small  l}Tic  piece  of  Hawes's,  the  reader  will  excuse  the  insertion  of 
this  extract. 

[Most  readers  unll  probably  be  satisfied  Avith  the  seventy-four  lines 
that  Percy  has  extracted  from  Hawes's  long  didactic  poem,  but 
those  who  \vish  to  read  the  whole  will  find  it  reprinted  by  Mr.  Thomas 
"Wright  in  the  fifteenth  volume  of  the  Percy  Society's  publications. 
The  account  of  Rhetorick  and  the  other  allegorical  nullities  is  weary 
reading,  but  the  chapter  in  commendation  of  Gower,  Chaucer  and 
the  author's  master  Lydgate,  "  the  chefe  orygynal  of  my  lernyng," 
is  interesting  from  a  literary  point  of  view.  The  poem  was  very 
popular  in  its  own  day  and  passed  through  several  editions,  and  it 
has  found  admirers  among  critics  of  a  later  age.  The  Rev.  Dr. 
Hodgson  in  a  letter  to  Percy,  dated  Sept.  22,  1800,*  speaks  of  it 
in  very  extravagant  terms,  and  regrets  that  it  had  not  then  found 
an  editor,  as  he  regarded  it  "  as  one  of  tlie  finest  poems  in  our  own 
or  any  other  language."  Warton  describes  Hawes  as  the  only  writer 
deser\'ing  the  name  of  a  poet  in  the  reign  of  Henry  VII.  and  says 
that  "  this  poem  contains  no  common  touches  of  romantic  and 
allegoric  fiction."  Mr.  Wright  however  looks  at  it  as  "  one  of  those 
allegorical  writings  which  were  popular  with  our  foreflitliers,  but 
which  can  now  only  be  looked  upon  as  monuments  of  the  bad  taste 


['  Nichols'  Illustrations  of  Literature,  vol.  viii.  p.  344-] 


128 


THE    TOWER 


of  a  bad  age."  Hawes  was  a  native  of  Suffolk,  but  the  dates  of  his 
birth  and  death  are  not  kno\vn.  He  studied  in  the  University  of 
Oxford  and  afterwards  travelled  much,  becoming  "a  complete 
master  of  the  French  and  Italian  poetry,"] 


Cap.  III. 


* 


ik 


LOKED  about  and  saw  a  craggy  roche, 

Farre  in  the  west,  neare  to  the  element, 
And  as  I  dyd  then  unto  it  approche, 
Upon  the  toppe  I  sawe  refulgent 
The  royal  tower  of  Morall  Document,  5 

Made  of  fine  copper  with  turrettes  fayre  and  hye, 
Which  against  Phebus  shone  so  marveylously, 

That  for  the  very  perfect  bryghtnes 

What  of  the  tower,  and  of  the  cleare  sunne, 

I  could  nothyng  behold  the  goodlines 

Of  that  palaice,  whereas  Doctrine  did  wonne 
Tyll  at  the  last,  with  mysty  wyndes  donne, 

The  radiant  brightnes  of  golden  Phebus 

Auster  gan  cover  with  clowde  tenebrus.* 

Then  to  the  tower  I  drewe  nere  and  nere,  15 

And  often  mused  of  the  great  hyghnes 

Of  the  craggy  rocke,  which  quadrant  did  appeare  : 
But  the  fayre  tower,  so  much  of  ryches 
Was  all  about,  sexangled  doubtles  ; 

Gargeyld^  with  grayhoundes,  and  with  manylyons,2o 

Made  of  fyne  golde  ;  with  divers  sundry  dragons.* 


10 
1 


*  Greyhounds,  Lions,  Dragons,  were  at  that  time  the  royal  sup- 
porters. 


\}  dwell. 


dark. 


from  gargoyle  the  spout  of  a  gutter.] 


OF   DOCTRINE.  129 

The  little  turrets  with  ymages  of  golde 

About  was  set,  whiche  with  the  wynde  aye  moved. 

Wyth  propre  vices/  that  I  did  well  iDeholde 

About  the  towers,  in  sundry  wyse  they  hoved'^    25 
With  goodly  pypes,  in  their  mouthes  i-tuned. 

That  with  the  wynde  they  pyped  a  daunce, 

I -clipped^  Amour  de  la  hault  plcsauncc. 


Cap.  IV. 

The  toure  was  great  and  of  marvelous  wydnes, 

To  whyche  ther  was  no  way  to  passe  but  one,     30 

Into  the  toure  for  to  have  an  intres  :^ 

A  grece^  there  was  y-chesyled  all  of  stone 
Out  of  the  rocke,  on  whyche  men  dyd  gone 

Up  to  the  toure,  and  in  lykewyse  dyd  I 

Wyth  bothe  the  Grayhoundes  in  my  company  :*      35 

Tyll  that  I  came  unto  a  ryall  gate, 

\\  here  I  sawe  stondynge  the  goodly  Portres, 

Whiche  axed  me,  from  whence  I  came  a-late  '^. 
To  whome  I  gan  in  every  thynge  expresse 
All  myne  adventure,  chaunce,  and  busynesse,      40 

And  eke  my  name ;   I  tolde  her  every  dell  : 

Whan  she  herde  this,  she  lyked  me  right  well. 

Her  name,  she  sayd,  was  called  Countenaunce  ; 
Into  the  besy*"  courte  she  dyd  me  then  lede, 

Where  was  a  fountayne  depured^  of  pleasance,         45 
A  noble  sprynge,  a  ryall  conduyte  hede. 
Made  of  fyne  golde  enameled  with  reed  ; 

And  on  the  toppe  four  dragons  blewe  and  stoute 

Th)s  dulcet  water  in  foure  partyes  dyd  spout. 

♦  This  alludes  to  a  former  part  of  the  Poem. 

r'  devices.         2  heaved.         ■'  called.         ^  entrance. 
''_  a  flight  of  steps.         ^  busy.   Percy  reads  base  or  lower  court. 
"  purified.] 

K 


I30     THE    TOWER   OF  DOCTRINE. 

Of  whyche  there  flowed  foure  ryvers  ryght  clere,     50 
Sweter  than  Nylus*  or  Ganges  was  theyr  odoure; 

Tygrys  or  Eufrates  unto  them  no  pere  : 
I  dyd  than  taste  the  aromatyke  lycoure, 
Fragraunt  of  fume,  swete  as  any  floure  ; 

And  in  my  mouthe  it  had  a  marveylous  cent^  55 

Of  divers  spyces,  I  knewe  not  what  it  ment. 

And  after  thys  farther  forth  me  brought 
Dame  Countenaunce  into  a  goodly  Hall, 

Of  jasper  stones  it  was  wonderly  wrought : 

The  wyndowes  cleare  depured  all  of  crystall,        60 
And  in  the  roufe  on  hye  over  all 

Of  golde  was  made  a  ryght  crafty  vyne  ; 

In  stede  of  grapes  the  rubies  there  did  shyne. 

The  flore  was  paved  with  berall  clarified, 

With  pillers  made  of  stones  precious,  65 

Like  a  place  of  pleasure  so  gayely  glorified. 
It  myght  be  called  a  palaice  glorious. 
So  muche  delectable  and  solacious  ;^ 

The  hall  was  hanged  hye  and  circuler 

With  cloth  of  arras  in  the  rychest  maner.  70 

That  treated  well  of  a  ful  noble  story, 

Of  the  doubty  waye  to  the  Tower  Perillous  ;t 

Howe  a  noble  knyght  should  wynne  the  victory 
Of  many  a  serpente  fowle  and  odious. 

***** 


•  Nysus.     PC.  t  The  story  of  the  poem. 

\}  scent.  2  affording  solace.] 


THE    CHILD    OF   ELLE.  131 


XI. 
THE  CHILD  OF  ELLE, 

^7^-^  S  given  from  a  fragment  in  tlie  Editor's  folio  MS.  which, 
tho'  extremely  defective  and  mutilated,  ay)peared  to  have 
"^  so  much  merit,  that  it  excited  a  strong  desire  to  attempt 
a  completion  of  the  story.  The  Reader  will  easily  dis- 
cover the  supplemental  stanzas  by  their  inferiority,  and  at  the  same 
time  be  inclined  to  pardon  it,  when  he  considers  how  difficult  it 
must  be  to  imitate  the  aftecting  simplicity  and  artless  beauties  of 
the  original. 

Child  was  a  title  sometimes  given  to  a  knight. 

[The  Child  of  EH,  as  it  appears  in  the  folio  j\IS.,  is  a  fragment 
\\-ithout  beginning  or  ending,  so  that  Percy  was  forced  to  add  some 
verses  in  order  to  fit  it  for  his  book,  but  the  above  note  does  not 
give  any  adequate  notion  of  his  contributions  to  the  ballad.  The 
verses  that  arc  entirely  due  to  the  bishop's  pen  are  placed  between 
brackets,  and  it  will  be  seen  from  the  copy  of  the  original  printed 
at  the  end  that  the  remaining  thirty  lines  are  much  altered  from  it. 
It  is  unfortunate  that  Percy's  taste  was  not  sufficient  to  save  him 
from  adding  sentimental  verses  so  out  of  character  with  the  direct- 
ness of  the  original  as — 

"  Fair  Emmeline  sighed,  fair  Emmeline  wept, 

And  aye  her  heart  was  woe : 
At  length  he  seized  her  lilly-white  hand. 

And  downe  the  ladder  he  drewe." 

On  the  other  hand,  the  poem  as  it  stands  is  certainly  elegant,  and 
Sir  Walter  Scott  was  justified  in  his  high  praise  when  he  pointed 
out  the  beauty  of  verses  181 — 184. 

"  The  baron  he  stroked  his  dark  brown  cheek, 

And  turned  his  head  aside 
To  wipe  away  the  starting  tear, 

He  proudly  strave  to  hide." 

Scott  published  a  ballad  called  "  ErHnton  "  for  the  first  time  in 
his  Border  Minstrelsy,  which  he  says  "  seems  to  be  the  rude  original, 
or  ])crhaps  a  corrujjt  and  imperfect  copy  of  The  Child  of  Elle." 

The  original  fragment  from  the  M.S.  is  worth  reading  for  its  own 
sake  as  a  genuine  antique,  which  must  outweigh  in  interest  all 
manufactured  imitations.] 


132  THE    CHILD    OF   ELLE. 


N  yonder  hill  a  castle  standes 

With  walks  and  towres  bedight/ 
And  yonder  lives  the  Child  of  Elle, 
A  younge  and  comely  knighte. 

The  Child  of  Elle  to  his  garden  wente,  s 

And  stood  at  his  garden  pale, 
Whan,  lo  !  he  beheld  fair  Emmelines  page 

Come  trippinge  downe  the  dale. 

The  Child  of  Elle  he  hyed  him  thence, 

Y-wis  he  stoode  not  stille,  lo 

And  soone  he  mette  faire  Emmelines  page 
Come  climbing  up  the  hille. 

Nowe  Christe  thee  save,  thou  little  foot-page, 

Now  Christe  thee  save  and  see  ! 
Oh  telle  me  how  does  thy  ladye  gaye,  15 

'    And  what  may  thy  tydinges  bee  ? 

My  lady  shee  is  all  woe-begone. 

And  the  teares  they  falle  from  her  eyne  ; 

And  aye  she  laments  the  deadlye  feude 

Betweene  her  house  and  thine.  20 

And  here  shee  sends  thee  a  silken  scarfe 

Bedewde  with  many  a  teare. 
And  biddes  thee  sometimes  thinke  on  her. 

Who  loved  thee  so  deare. 

And  here  shee  sends  thee  a  ring  of  golde         25 

The  last  boone  thou  mayst  have, 
And  biddes  thee  weare  it  for  her  sake, 

Whan  she  is  layde  in  grave. 

\}  bedecked.] 


THE    CHILD    OF   ELLE.  i  r. 


0  0 


For,  ah  !  her  gentle  heart  is  broke, 

And  in  grave  soone  must  shee  bee.  30 

Sith  her  father  hath  chose  her  a  new  new  love, 

And  forbidde  her  to  think  of  thee.    . 

Her  father  hath  brought  her  a  carlish^  knight, 

Sir  John  of  the  north  countraye, 
And  within  three  dayes  shee  must  him  wedde,  35 

Or  he  vowes  he  will  her  slaye. 

Nowe  hye  thee  backe,  thou  little  foot-page. 

And  greet  thy  ladye  from  mee, 
And  telle  her  that  I  her  owne  true  love 

Will  dye,  or  sette  her  free.  40 

Nowe  hye  thee  backe,  thou  little  foot-page, 

And  let  thy  fair  ladye  know 
This  niofht  will  I  bee  at  her  bowre-windowe, 

Betide  me  weale  or  woe. 

The  boye  he  tripped,  the  boye  he  ranne,  4S 

He  neither  stint  ne  stayd 
Untill  he  came  to  fair  Emmelines  bowre, 

Whan  kneeling  downe  he  sayd, 

O  ladye,  I've  been  with  thy  own  true  lot^e, 
And  he  greets  thee  well  by  mee  ;  5° 

This  night  will  he  bee  at  thy  bowre-windowe, 
And  dye  or  sette  thee  free. 

Nowe  daye  was  gone,  and  night  was  come, 

And  all  were  fast  asleepe, 
All  save  the  ladye  Emmeline,  55 

Who  sate  in  her  bowre  to  weepe  : 

And  soone  shee  heard  her  true  loves  voice 
Lowe  whispering  at  the  walle, 

1^  churlish.] 


134  THE    CHILD    OF   ELLE. 

Awake,  awake,  my  deare  ladye, 

Tis  I  thy  true  love  call.  60 

Awake,  awake,  my  ladye  deare, 

Come,  mount  this  faire  palfraye  : 
This  ladder  of  ropes  will  lette  thee  downe, 

He  carry e  thee  hence  awaye. 

Nowe  nay,  nowe  nay,  thou  gentle  knight,         65 

Nowe  nay,  this  may  not  bee ; 
For  aye  shold  I  tint  my  maiden  fame, 

If  alone  I  should  wend  with  thee. 

O  ladye,  thou  with  a  knighte  so  true 

Mayst  safelye  wend  alone,  70 

To  my  ladye  mother  I  will  thee  bringe, 
Where  marriage  shall  make  us  one. 

"  My  father  he  is  a  baron  bolde, 

Of  lynage  proude  and  hye  ; 
And  what  would  he  saye  if  his  daughter  75 

Awaye  with  a  knight  should  fly  ? 

Ah  !  well  I  wot,  he  never  would  rest,] 
Nor  his  meate  should  doe  him  no  goode, 

Until  he  had  slayne  thee,  Child  of  EUe, 

And  seene  thy  deare  hearts  bloode."  80 

0  ladye,  wert  thou  in  thy  saddle  sette, 
And  a  little  space  him  fro, 

1  would  not  care  for  thy  cruel  father. 

Nor  the  worst  that  he  could  doe. 

0  ladye,  wert  thou  in  thy  saddle  sette,  85 
And  once  without  this  walle, 

1  would  not  care  for  thy  cruel  father, 

Nor  the  worst  that  might  befalle. 

[Faire  Emmeline  sighed,  fair  Emmeline  wept, 
And  aye  her  heart  was  woe  :  90 


THE    CHILD    OF   ELLE.  135 

At  length  he  seized  her  lilly-white  hand, 
And  downe  the  ladder  he  drewe  : 

And  thrice  he  clasped  her  to  his  breste, 

And  kist  her  tenderlie  : 
The  teares  that  fell  from  her  fair  eyes,  95 

Ranne  like  tlie  fountayne  free,] 

Hee  mounted  himselfe  on  his  steede  so  talle, 

And  her  on  a  fair  palfraye, 
And  slunor  his  buole  about  his  necke, 

And  roundlye  they  rode  awaye.  100 

[All  this  beheard  her  owne  damselle, 

In  her  bed  whereas  shee  ley, 
Quoth  shee.  My  lord  shall  knowe  of  this, 

See  I  shall  have  golde  and  fee. 

Awake,  awake,  thou  baron  bolde !  105 

Awake,  my  noble  dame ! 
Your  daughter  is  fledde  with  the  Child  of  Elle, 

To  doe  the  deede  of  shame. 

The  baron  he  woke,  the  baron  he  rose, 

And  called  his  merrye  men  all  :  no 

"  And  come  thou  forth.  Sir  John  the  knighte. 
Thy  ladye  is  carried  to  thrall."^] 

Faire  Emmeline  scant  had  ridden  a  mile, 

A  mile  forth  of  the  towne, 
When  she  was  aware  of  her  fathers  men  115 

Come  galloping  over  the  downe  : 

[And  foremost  came  the  carlish  knight. 

Sir  John  of  the  north  countraye  : 
"  Nowe  stop,  no  we  stop,  thou  false  traitoure, 

Nor  carry  that  ladye  awaye.  120 

f^  into  captivity.] 


136  THE    CHILD    OF   ELLE. 

For  she  is  come  of  hye  lineage, 

And  was  of  a  ladye  borne, 
And  ill  it  beseems  thee  a  false  churl's  sonne 

To  carrye  her  hence  to  scorne."] 

Nowe  loud  thou  lyest,  Sir  John  the  knight,     125 

Nowe  thou  doest  lye  of  mee  ; 
A  knight  mee  gott,  and  a  ladye  me  bore, 

Soe  never  did  none  by  thee. 

But  light  nowe  downe,  my  ladye  faire, 

Light  downe,  and  hold  my  steed,  130 

While  I  and  this  discourteous  knighte 
Doe  trye  this  arduous  deede. 

But  light  now  downe,  my  deare  ladye, 
Light  downe,  and  hold  my  horse  ; 

While  I  and  this  discourteous  knight  135 

[Doe  trye  our  valour's  force. 

Fair  Emmeline  sighed,  fair  Emmeline  wept, 

And  aye  her  heart  was  woe. 
While  twixt  her  love  and  the  carlish  knight 

Past  many  a  baleful  blowe.  140 

The  Child  of  File  hee  fought  soe  well, 
As  his  weapon  he  waived  amaine. 

That  soone  he  had  slaine  the  carlish  knight, 
And  layd  him  upon  the  plaine. 

And  nowe  the  baron,  and  all  his  men  145 

Full  fast  approached  nye  : 
Ah  !  what  may  ladye  Emmeline  doe  ? 

Twere  nowe  no  boote^  to  flye. 

Her  lover  he  put  his  home  to  his  mouth, 

And  blew  both  loud  and  shrill,  150 

And  soone  he  saw  his  owne  merry  men 
Come  ryding  over  the  hill. 

["'  no  advantage.] 


THE    CHILD    OF   ELLE.  i^l 

"  Nowe  hold  thy  hand,  thou  bold  baron, 

I  pray  thee  hold  thy  hand, 
Nor  ruthless  rend  two  gentle  hearts,  15s 

Fast  knit  in  true  love's  band. 

Thy  daughter  I  have  dearly  loved 

Full  long  and  many  a  day ; 
But  with  such  love  as  holy  kirke 

Hath  freelye  sayd  wee  may.  i6o 

O  give  consent,  shee  may  be  mine, 

And  blesse  a  faithfull  paire  : 
My  lands  and  livings  are  not  small, 

My  house  and  lineage  faire  : 

My  mother  she  was  an  earl's  daughter,  165 

And  a  noble  knyght  my  sire— 

The  baron  he  frowned,  and  turn'd  away 

With  mickle  dole  and  ire. 

Fair  Emmeline  sighed,  faire  Emmeline  wept, 
And  did  all  tremblinge  stand  :  170 

At  lengthe  she  sprang  upon  her  knee. 
And  held  his  lifted  hand. 

Pardon,  my  lorde  and  father  deare. 

This  faire  yong  knyght  and  mee  : 
Trust  me,  but  for  the  carlish  knyght,  175 

I  never  had  fled  from  thee. 

Oft  have  you  called  your  Emmeline 

Your  darling  and  your  joye  ; 
O  let  not  then  your  harsh  resolves 

Your  Emmeline  destroye.  180 

The  baron  he  stroakt  his  dark-brown  cheeke, 

And  turned  his  heade  asyde 
To  whipe  awaye  the  starting  teare, 

I  Ic  ])r()udly  stravc  to  hydc. 


138         THE    CHILD    OF   ELLE. 

In  deepe  revolving  thought  he  stoode,  185 

And  mused  a  little  space ; 
Then  raised  faire  Emmeline  from  the  grounde, 

With  many  a  fond  embrace. 

Here  take  her,  Child  of  Elle,  he  sayd, 

And  gave  her  lillye  white  hand  ;  190 

Here  take  my  deare  and  only  child, 
And  with  her  half  my  land  : 

Thy  father  once  mine  honour  wrongde 

In  dayes  of  youthful  pride  ; 
Do  thou  the  injurye  repayre  195 

In  fondnesse  for  thy  bride. 

And  as  thou  love  her,  and  hold  her  deare, 

Heaven  prosper  thee  and  thine  : 
And  nowe  my  blessing  wend  wi'  thee, 

My  lovelye  Emmeline.]  200 

*  * 
* 

\\\  From  the  word  kirke  in  ver,  159,  this  hath  been  thought 
to  be  a  Scottish  Ballad,  but  it  must  be  acknowledged  that  the  line 
referred  to  is  among  the  additions  supplied  by  the  Editor  :  besides, 
in  the  Northern  counties  of  England,  kirk  is  used  in  the  common 
dialect  for  churchy  as  well  as  beyond  the  Tweed. 

[The  following  thirty-nine  lines  are  the  whole  of  the  fragment 
which  Percy  used  as  the  groundwork  of  his  poem.  They  are  taken 
from  Bishop  Percy's  Folio  Manuscript^  vol.  i.  p.  133. 

Sayes,  Christ  thee  save,  good  child  of  Ell ! 
Christ  saue  thee  and  thy  steede  ! 

My  father  sayes  he  will  noe  meate. 

Nor  his  drinke  shall  doe  him  noe  good, 

till  he  have  slaine  the  Child  of  Ell 
And  have  seene  his  harts  blood. 

I  wold  I  were  in  my  sadle  sett, 

And  a  mile  out  of  the  towne, 
I  did  not  care  for  your  father 

And  all  his  merry  men  ! 


THE    CHILD    OF    ELLE.  139 

I  wold  I  were  in  my  sadle  sett, 

And  a  little  space  him  froe, 
I  did  not  care  for  your  father 

And  all  that  long  him  to  ! 

He  leaned  ore  his  saddle  bow 

To  kisse  this  Lady  good  ; 
The  teares  that  went  them  two  betweene 

Were  blend  water  and  blood. 

He  sett  himselfe  on  one  good  steed 

This  lady  of  one  palfray 
And  sett  his  litle  home  to  his  mouth 

And  roundlie  he  rode  away. 

He  had  not  ridden  past  a  mile 

A  mile  out  of  the  to^\Tle, 
Her  father  was  readye  with  her  seven  brether 

He  said,  sett  thou  my  daughter  downe  ! 
For  itt  ill  iDeseemes  thee,  thou  false  churles  sonne, 

To  carry  her  forth  of  this  towne  ! 

But  lowd  thou  lyest,  Sir  John  the  Knight ! 

That  now  doest  lye  of  me  ; 
A  knight  me  gott  and  a  lady  me  bore  ; 

Soe  never  did  none  by  thee. 

But  light  now  downe,  my  lady  gay, 

Light  downe  and  hold  my  horsse 
Whitest  I  and  your  father  and  your  brether 

Doe  play  us  at  this  crosse  \ 

But  light  now  downe,  my  owne  trew  loue, 

And  meeklye  hold  my  steede, 
Whilest  your  father  [and  your  brether]  bold.] 

\_IIa/f  a  page  missing.'] 


HO  EDOM    6>'    GORDON. 


XII. 

EDOM  O'  GORDON, 

A  Scottish  Ballad, 

JAS  printed  at  Glasgow,  by  Robert  and  Andrew  Foulis, 
MDCCLV.  8vo.  12  pages.  We  are  indebted  for  its 
publication  (with  many  other  valuable  things  in  these 
«^^^^^}  volumes)  to  Sir  David  Dalrymple,  Bart.,  who  gave  it  as 
it  was  preserved  in  the  memory  of  a  lady  that  is  now  dead. 

The  reader  will  here  find  it  improved  and  enlarged  with  several 
fine  stanzas,  recovered  from  a  fragment  of  the  same  ballad,  in  the 
Editor's  foHo  MS.  It  is  remarkable  that  the  latter  is  entitled 
Captain  Adam  Carre^  and  is  in  the  English  idiom.  But  whether 
the  author  was  English  or  Scotch,  the  difference  originally  was  not 
great.  The  English  Ballads  are  generally  of  the  North  of  England, 
the  Scottish  are  of  the  South  of  Scotland,  and  of  consequence  the 
country  of  ballad-singers  was  sometimes  subject  to  one  crown,  and 
sometimes  to  the  other,  and  most  frequently  to  neither.  Most  of  the 
finest  old  Scotch  songs  have  the  scene  laid  within  twenty  miles  of 
England,  which  is  indeed  all  poetic  ground,  green  hills,  remains 
of  woods,  clear  brooks.  The  pastoral  scenes  remain  :  of  the  rude 
chivalry  of  former  ages  happily  nothing  remains  but  the  ruins  of 
the  castles,  where  the  more  daring  and  successful  robbers  resided. 
The  house  or  castle  of  the  Rodcs  stood  about  a  measured  mile 
south  from  Duns,  in  Berwickshire  :  some  of  the  ruins  of  it  may  be 
seen  to  this  day.  The  Gordons  were  anciently  seated  in  the  same 
county :  the  two  villages  of  East  and  West  Gordon  lie  about 
ten  miles  from  the  castle  of  the  Rodes.*  The  fact,  however,  on 
which  the  ballad  is  founded,  happened  in  the  north  of  Scotland,! 

*  This  ballad  is  well  known  in  that  neighbourhood,  where  it  is 
intitled  Adam  O' Gordon.  It  may  be  observed,  that  the  famous 
free-booter  whom  Edward  I.  fought  with,  hand  to  hand,  near 
Farnham,  was  named  Adam  Gordon. 

t  Since  this  ballad  was  first  printed,  the  subject  of  it  has  been 
found  recorded  in  Abp.  Spotswood's  History  of  the  Church  of  Scot- 
land, p.  259,  who  informs  us  that, 

"Anno  157 1.  In  the  north  parts  of  Scodand,  Adam  Gordon 
(who  was  deputy  for  his  brother  the  earl  of  Huntley)  did  keep  a 


EDOM    O'    CORDON.  141 

yet  it  is  but  too  faithful  a  specimen  of  the  violences  practised  in 
tlie  feudal  times  in  every  part  of  this  Island,  and  indeed  all  over 
Europe. 

From  the  different  titles  of  this  ballad,  it  should  seem  that  the 
old  strolling  bards  or  minstrels  (who  gained  a  livelihood  by  reciting 
these  poems)  made  no  scruple  of  changing  the  names  of  the  per- 
sonages they  introduced,  to  humour  their  hearers.  For  instance, 
if  a  Gordon's  conduct  was  blameworthy  in  the  opinion  of  that  age, 
the  obsequious  minstrel  would,  when  among  Gordons,  change  the 
name  to  Car,  whose  clan  or  sept  lay  furtlier  west,  and  vur  TcrsA. 
The  foregoing  observation,  which  I  owed  to  Sir  David  Dalrymple, 
will  appear  the  more  perfectly  well  founded,  if,  as  I  have  since 
been  infonned  (from  Crawford's  Memoirs),  the  principal  Com- 
mander of  the  expedition  was  a  Gordon,  and  the  immediate  agent 
a  Car,  or  Ker ;  for  then  the  reciter  might,  upon  good  grounds,  im- 
pute the  barbarity  here  deplored,  either  to  a  Gordon  or  a  Car,  as 
best  suited  his  purpose.  In  the  third  volume  the  reader  will  find 
a  similar  instance.  See  the  song  of  Gil  Morris,  wherein  the  prin- 
cipal character  introduced  had  difterent  names  given  him,  perhaps 
from  the  same  cause. 

It  may  be  proper  to  mention  that,  in  the  folio  MS.,  instead 
of  the  "  Castle  of  the  Rodes,"  it  is  the  "  Castle  of  Bittons- 
borrow,"  and  also  "  Dractons-borrow,"  and  "  Capt.  Adam  Carre  " 
is  called  the  "  Lord  of  Westerton-town."  Uniformity  required\ 
that  the  additional  stanzas  supplied  from  that  copy  should  be 
clothed  in  the  Scottish  orthography  and  idiom  :  this  has  therefore 
been  attempted,  though  perhaps  imperfectly. 

[Percy's  note,  which  goes  to  prove  that  the  historical  event  re- 
ferred to  in  tliis  ballad  occurred  in  the  north  of  Scotland,  negatives 
the  view  which  is  expressed  just  before,  that  the  borders  are  the 


great  stir ;  and  under  colour  of  the  queen's  authority,  committed 

divers  oppressions,  especially  upon  the  Forbes's Having 

killed  Arthur  Forbes,  brother  to  the  lord  Forbes.  •  ■  •  •  Not  long 
after  he  sent  to  summon  the  house  of  Tavoy  pertaining  to  Alex- 
ander Forbes.  The  Lady  refusing  to  yield  without  direction  from 
her  husband,  he  put  fire  unto  it,  and  burnt  her  therein,  with  children 
and  servants,  being  twenty-seven  persons  in  all. 

"  This  inhuman  and  barbarous  cruelty  made  his  name  odious, 
and  stained  all  his  former  doings  ;  otherwise  he  was  held  very  active 
and  fortunate  in  his  enterprizes." 

'J'his  fact,  which  had  escaped  tlie  Editor's  notice,  was  in  the 
most  obliging  manner  pointed  out  to  him  by  an  ingenious  writer 
who  signs  his  name  H.  H.  (Newcastle,  May  9)  in  the  Gcnilcmatis 
Afa,i;azi//e  (or 'Ma.y,  1775. 


142  EDOM    (9'    GORDON. 

exclusive  country  of  the  ballad  singers,  at  all  events  in  this  par- 
ticular instance.  Sir  David  Dalrymple  appears  to  have  altered  the 
place  of  action  from  Towie  to  Rodes  under  a  misconception.  An 
extract  from  Crawford's  Memoirs  (an.  15  71,  p.  240,  ed.  1706),  is 
a  proper  companion  to  the  passage  from  Spotswood,  and  explains 
the  title  in  the  folio  MS.  The  person  sent  was  "  one  Captain  Ker 
with  a  party  of  foot.  .  .  .  Nor  was  he  ever  so  much  as  cashiered 
for  this  inhuman  action,  which  made  Gordon  share  in  the  scandal 
and  the  guilt."  Gordon,  in  his  History  of  the  Family  of  Gordon, 
informs  us  that,  in  the  true  old  spirit  of  Scottish  family  feuds,  the 
Forbes's  afterwards  attempted  to  assassinate  Gordon  in  the  streets 
of  Paris. 

Percy  showed  good  taste  in  rejecting  the  termination  given  in 
Dalrymple's  version,  which  certainly  does  not  improve  the  ballad, 
and  has  moreover  a  very  modern  flavour.  The  husband  is  there 
made  to  end  his  days  as  follows  : — 

"  And  round  and  round  the  wa's  he  went 

Their  ashes  for  to  view. 

At  last  into  the  flames  he  flew 

And  bad  the  world  adieu." 

This  ballad  is  found  in  various  versions,  which  proves  how  wide- 
spread was  the  popularity  of  the  striking  story  which  it  relates.  In 
the  version  given  from  the  Cotton  MS.  by  Ritson  in  his  Ancient 
Songs  (vol.  ii.  p.  38,  ed.  1829)  the  husband  takes  no  vengeance  on 
Captain  Car.  Another  version,  entitled  Lotidoun  Castle,  is  reprinted 
in  Child'' s  E?tglish  and  Scottish  Ballads  (vol.  vi.  p.  254),  from  the 
Ballads  afid  Songs  of  Ayrshire,  where  the  scene  is  changed  to 
Loudoun  Castle,  which  is  supposed  to  have  been  burnt  about  three 
hundred  and  sixty  years  ago  by  the  clan  Kennedy.  In  Ritson's 
version  the  castle  is  called  Crechcrynbroghe,  and  in  the  Genealogy 
of  the  Forbes,  by  Matthew  Lumsden,  of  Tullikerne,  written  in  1580 
(Inverness,  1819,  p.  44),  the  name  is  changed  to  Cargaffe.  From 
this  latter  source  we  learn  that  the  lady  of  Towie  was  Margaret 
Campbell,  daughter  of  Sir  John  Campbell,  of  Calder,  and  that 
the  husband,  far  from  flying  into  the  flames,  married  a  second  wife,  a 
daughter  of  Forbes  of  Reires,  who  bare  him  a  son  named  Arthur.] 


EDOM    (9'    GORDON.  14- 


T  fell  about  the  Martinmas,  / 

Ouhen  the  wind  blew  shril  and  cauld,     "^ 
Said  Edom  o'  Gordon  to  his  men, 
We  maun  draw  till  a  hauld/ 

And  quhat  a  hauld  sail  we  draw  till,  5 

My  mirry  men  and  me  ? 
We  wul  gae  to  the  house  o'  the  Rodes, 

To  see  that  fair  ladle. 

The  lady  stude  on  hir  castle  wa', 

Beheld  baith  dale  and  down  :  10 

There  she  was  ware  of  a  host  of  men 
Cum  r)^ding  towards  the  toun.'^ 

O  see  ye  nat,  my  mirry  men  a'  ? 

0  see  ye  nat  quhat  I  see  ? 

Methinks  I  see  a  host  of  men  :  15 

1  marveil  quha  they  be. 

She  weend"*  it  had  been  hir  luvely  lord, 

As  he  cam  ryding  hame  ; 
It  was  the  traitor  Edom  o'  Gordon, 

Ouha  reckt  nae  sin  nor  shame.  20 

She  had  nae  sooner  buskif*  hirsel. 

And  putten  on  hir  goun, 
But  Edom  o'  Gordon  and  his  men 

Were  round  about  the  toun. 

They  had  nae  sooner  supper  sett.  25 

Nae  sooner  said  the  grace, 
But  Edom  o'  Gordon  and  his  men. 

Were  light  about  the  place. 

['  to  a  hold.       2  dwelling-house.       '  thought.       ''  dressed.] 


144  EDOM    (9'    GORDON. 

The  lady  ran  up  to  hir  towir  head, 

Sa  fast  as  she  could  hie,  30 

To  see  if  by  hir  fair  speeches 
She  could  wi'  him  agree. 

Buj;  quhan  he  see  this  lady  saif. 

And  hir  yates^  all  locked  fast, 
He  fell  intb  a  rage  of  wrath,  35 

And  his  look  was  all  aghast. 

Cum  doun  to  me,  ye  lady  gay, 

Cum  doun,  cum  doun  to  me  : 
This  night  sail  ye  lig'^  within  mine  armes, 

To-morrow  my  bride  sail  be.  40 

I  winnae^  cum  doun,  ye  fals  Gordon, 

I  winnae  cum  doun  to  thee  ; 
I  winnae  forsake  my  ain  dear  lord, 

That  is  sae  far  frae  me. 

Give  owre  your  house,  ye  lady  fair,  45 

Give  owre  your  house  to  me. 
Or  I  sail  brenn^  yoursel  therein, 
Bot  and^  your  babies  three. 

I  winnae  give  owre,  ye  false  Gordon, 

To  nae  sik  traitor  as  yee ;  50 

And  if  ye  brenn  my  ain  dear  babes. 
My  lord  sail  make  ye  drie.*^ 

But  reach  my  pistoll,  Glaud,  my  man,* 
And  charge  ye  weil  my  gun  :* 

For,  but  an'  I  pierce  that  bluidy  butcher,     55 
My  babes  we  been  undone. 

She  stude  upon  hir  castle  wa'. 
And  let  twa  bullets  flee  :  * 

*  These  three  hnes  are  restored  from  Foulis's  edition,  and  the 
fol.  MS.,  which  last  reads  the  bullets^  in  ver.  58. 

[1  gates.  2  iig_  3  ^^-^  j^Qj-_  4  \y^x\\. 

^  and  also.  "  suffer.  '^  unless.] 


EDOM    0'    GORDON.  145 

She  mist  that  bkiidy  butchers  hart, 

And  only  raz'd  his  knee.  60 

Set  fire  to  the  house,  quo'  fals  Gordon, 

All  wood  \\'\  dule^  and  ire  : 
Fals  lady,  ye  sail  rue  this  deid, 

As  ye  bren  in  the  fire. 

Wae  worth,"^  wae  worth  ye,  Jock  my  man,     65 

I  paid  ye  weil  your  fee  ; 
Quhy  pu'  ye  out  the  ground-wa'  stane.'' 

Lets  in  the  reek^  to  me  ? 

And  ein^  wae  worth  ye,  Jock  my  man, . 

I  paid  ye  weil  your  hire  ;  70 

Quhy  pu'  ye  out  the  ground-wa  stane. 

To  me  lets  in  the  fire  ? 

Ye  paid  me  weil  my  hire,  lady ; 

Ye  paid  me  weil  my  fee  : 
But  now  I'm  Edom  o'  Gordons  man,  75 

Maun  either  doe  or  die. 

0  than  bespaik  hir  little  son, 
Sate  on  the  nurses  knee  : 

Sayes,  Mither  deare,  gi'  owre  this  house, 
For  the  reek  it  smithers  me.  80 

1  wad  gie  a'  my  gowd,^  my  childe, 

Sae  wald  I  a'  my  fee, 
For  ane  blast  o'  the  western  wind. 
To  blaw  the  reek  frae  thee. 

O  then  bespaik  hir  dochter  dear,  85 

She  was  baith  jimp'^  and  sma : 
O  row"  me  in  a  pair  o'  sheits, 

And  tow  me"  owre  the  wa. 

I '  mad  with  sorrow.         ^  woe  betide.  ^  ground-wall  stone. 

*  smoke.  ^  even.  "  goU- 

'  slender.  "  roll.  "  let  me  down.J 

L 


146  EDOM    (9'    GORDON. 

They  rowd  hir  in  a  pair  o'  sheits, 

And  towd  hir  owre  the  wa  :  90 

But  on  the  point  of  Gordons  spear, 
She  gat  a  deadly  fa. 

0  bonnie  bonnie  was  hir  mouth,. 
And  cherry  were  hir  cheiks, 

And  clear  clear  was  hir  yellow  hair,  95 

Whereon  the  reid  bluid  dreips. 

Then  wi'  his  spear  he  turnd  hir  owre, 

0  gin  hir  face  was  wan  ! 

He  sayd,  ye  are  the  first  that  eir 

1  wisht  alive  again.  100 

He  turnd  hir  owre  and  owre  againe, 
O  gin  hir  skin  was  whyte ! 

1  might  ha  spared  that  bonnie  face 
To  hae  been  sum  mans  delyte. 

Busk  and  boun,^  my  merry  men  a',  105 

For  ill  dooms  I  doe  guess  ; 
I  cannae  luik  in  that  bonnie  face, 

As  it  lyes  on  the  grass. 

Thame,  luiks  to  freits,  my  master  deir, 

Then  freits  wil  follow  thame  :  no 

Let  it  neir  be  said  brave  Edom  o'  Gordon 
Was  daunted  by  a  dame. 

But  quhen  the  ladye  see  the  fire 

Cum  flaming  owre  hir  head, 
She  wept  and  kist  her  children  twain,  115 

Sayd,  Bairns,  we  been  but  dead. 

Ver.  98,  102.  O  ^in,  g^c.  a  Scottish  idiom  to  express  great 
admiration.  V.  109,  no.  Thame,  6^r.  i.e.  Them  that  look  after 
omens  of  ill  luck,  ill  luck  will  follow. 

\}  make  ready  to  go.] 


EDOM    6>'    GORDON.  147 

The  Gordon  then  his  bougill  ^  blew, 

And  said,  Awa*,  awa' ; 
This  house  o'  the  Rodes  is  a'  in  flame, 

I  hauld  it  time  to  ea'. 


I70 


O  then  bespyed  hir  ain  dear  lord, 

As  hee  cam  owr  the  lee ; 
He  sied^  his  castle  all  in  blaze 

Sa  far  as  he  could  see. 

Then  sair,  O  sair  his  mind  misgave,  125 

And  all  his  hart  was  wae  ; 
Put  on,  put  on,  my  wighty  men, 

So  fast  as  ye  can  gae. 

Put  on,  put  on,  my  wighty^  men, 

Sa  fast  as  ye  can  drie  ;^  130 

For  he  that  is  hindmost  of  the  thrang, 

Sail  neir  get  guid  o'  me. 

Than  sum  they  rade,  and  sum  they  rin, 

Fou  fast  out-owr  the  bent ;  ^ 
But  eir  the  foremost  could  get  up,  135 

Baith  lady  and  babes  were  brent. 

He  wrang  his  hands,  he  rent  his  hair. 

And  wept  in  teenefu'  muid  :  ^ 
O  traitors,  for  this  cruel  deid 

Ye  sail  weep  teirs  o'bluid.  14.0 

And  after  the  Gordon  he  is  gane, 

Sa  fast  as  he  might  drie  ;  ^ 
And  soon  i'  the  Gordon's  foul  hartis  bluid, 

He's  wroken"  his  dear  ladie. 


['  bugle.  "^  saw.  ^  nimble.         ''  endure. 

*'•  full  fast  over  the  meadows.  "  in  wrathful  mood. 

'  bear.  ^  revenged.] 


148  EDOM    O'    GORDON. 

[The  following  is  the  version  of  the  ballad  in  the  Percy  Folio, 
which  is  entitled  Captainc  Carre.  Bishop  Percy's  Folio  MS.,  ed.  J. 
W.  Hales  and  F.  J.  Furnivall,  1867,  vol.  i.,  pp.  79-83- 

ffaith.  Master,  whither  you  will, 

whereas  you  like  the  best, 
Unto  the  castle  of  Bittons  borrow, 

and  there  to  take  your  rest. 

But  yonder  stands  a  Castle  faire, 

is  made  of  lyme  and  stone, 
Yonder  is  in  it  a  fayre  lady, 

her  lord  is  ridden  and  gone. 

The  lady  stood  on  her  castle  wall, 

she  looked  upp  and  downe. 
She  was  ware  of  an  hoast  of  men 

came  rydinge  towards  the  towne. 

See  you  not  my  merry  men  all, 

and  see  you  not  what  I  doe  see  ? 
Methinks  I  see  a  hoast  of  men 

I  muse  who  they  shold  be. 

She  thought  it  had  beene  her  lovly  Lord, 

he  had  come  ryding  home  : 
it  was  the  traitor,  Captaine  Carre 

the  Lord  of  Westerton  towne 

They  had  noe  sooner  super  sett, 

and  after  said  the  grace 
but  the  traitor  Captaine  Carre  ' 

was  light  about  the  place. 

Give  over  thy  house,  thou  lady  gay 
I  will  make  thee  a  band  [/.  e.  bond] 

all  night  within  mine  armes  thoust  lye, 
to-morrow  be  the  heyre  of  my  land. 

He  not  give  over  my  house,  shee  said 

neither  for  ladds  nor  man, 
nor  yet  for  traitor  Captaine  Carre, 

Untill  my  lord  come  home 

But  reach  me  my  pistoll  pee  [/.  e.  piece] 

and  charge  you  well  my  gunne. 
He  shoote  at  the  bloody  bucher 

the  lord  of  westerton. 


EDOM    O'    GORDON.  149 

She  stood  uppon  her  castle  wall 

and  let  the  bulletts  tlee, 
and  where  shee  mist     .... 

\Half  a  page  missing.'] 

But  then  bespake  the  little  child 

that  sate  on  the  nurses  knee, 
saies,  mother  deere,  give  ore  this  house 

for  the  smoake  it  smoothers  me. 

I  wold  give  all  my  gold,  my  childe, 

soe  wold  I  doe  all  my  fee, 
for  one  blast  of  the  westerne  -vvind 

to  blow  the  smoke  from  thee 

But  when  shee  saw  the  fier 

came  flaming  ore  her  head, 
She  tooke  them  upp  her  children  two 

Sayes,  babes  we  all  beene  dead  ! 

But  Adam  then  he  fired  the  house, 

a  sorrowfuU  sight  to  see  : 
now  hath  he  burned  this  lady  faire 

and  eke  her  children  three 

Then  Captain  Carre  he  rode  away, 

he  staid  noe  longer  at  that  tide, 
he  thought  that  place  it  was  to  warme 

soe  neere  for  to  abide 

He  calld  unto  his  merry  men  all 

bidd  them  make  hast  away 
for  we  have  slaine  his  children  three 

all,  and  his  lady  gay. 

Word  came  to  lovly  loudon  ^ 

to  loudon  ^  wheras  her  lord  lay, 
his  castle  and  his  hall  was  burned 

all  and  his  lady  gay. 

Soe  hath  he  done  his  Children  three. 
More  dearer  unto  liini  \ 

then  either  the  silver  or  the  gold 
that  men  soe  faine  wold  win. 

But  when  he  looket  this  writing  on. 

Lord  in  is  hart  he  was  woe  ! 
saies,  I  will  find  thee.  Captain  Carre, 

wether  thou  ryde  or  goc  ! 

\}  printed  London  in  the  edition  of  the  MS.] 


I50  EDOM    O'    GORDON. 

Buff  yee,  bowne  yee,  my  merry  men  all 
with  tempered  swords  of  Steele, 

for  till  I  have  found  out  Captaine  Carre, 
My  hart  it  is  nothing  weele. 

But  when  he  came  to  dractons  Borrow, 

soe  long  ere  it  was  day, 
and  ther  he  found  him,  Captaine  Carre ; 

that  night  he  ment  to  stay.] 

{Half  a  page  missing.'] 


THE   END   OF   THE   FIRST  BOOK. 


RELIOUES  OF  ANCIENT  POETRY,  ETC. 

SERIES  THE  FIRST. 

BOOK  11. 

BALLADS   THAT   ILLUSTRATE 
SHAKESPEARE. 


r 


Our  great  dramatic  poet  having  occasionally  quoted 
many  ancient  ballads,  and  even  taken  the  plot  of  one, 
if  not  more,  of  his  plays  from  among  them,  it  was  judged 
proper  to  preserve  as  many  of  these  as  could  be  re- 
covered, and,  that  they  might  be  the  more  easily  found, 
to  exhibit  them  in  one  collective  view.  This  Second 
Book  is  therefore  set  apart  for  the  reception  of  such 
ballads  as  are  quoted  by  Shakespeare,  or  contribute  in 
any  degree  to  illustrate  his  writings  :  this  being  the  prin- 
cipal point  in  view,  the  candid  reader  will  pardon  the 
admission  of  some  pieces  that  have  no  other  kind  of 
merit. 


I. 

ADAM    BELL,  CLYM    OF    THE    CLOUGH, 
AND  WILLIAM  OF  CLOUDESLEY, 


-ERE  three  noted  outlaws,  whose  skill  in  archery  rendered 
them  formerly  as  famous  in  the  north  of  England,  as 
Robin  Hood  and  his  fellows  were  in  the  midland  coun- 
ties. Their  place  of  residence  was  in  the  forest  of  Engle- 
wood,  not  far  from  Carlisle  (called  corruptly  in  the  ballad  English- 
wood,  whereas  Engle,  or  Ingle-wood,  signifies  wood  for  firing).  At 
what  time  they  Hved  does. not  appear.  The  author  of  the  common 
ballad  on  "  The  Pedigree,  Education  and  Marriage  of  Robin  Hood," 
makes  them  contemporary  with  Robin  Hood's  father,  in  order  to 
give  him  the  honour  of  beating  them,  viz. : 

"  The  father  of  Robin  a  Forester  was, 

and  he  shot  in  a  lusty  long-bow, 
Two  north-country  miles  and  an  inch  at  a  shot, 

as  the  Finder  of  Wakefield  does  know  : 

For  he  brought  Adam  Bell,  and  Clim  of  the  Clugh, 

and  William  a  Clowdeslee, 
To  shoot  with  our  Forester  for  forty  mark  ; 

and  the  P'orester  beat  them  all  three." 

Collect,  of  Old  Ballads,  vol.  i.  (1723),  p.  67. 

This  seems  to  prove  that  they  were  commonly  thought  to  have 
lived  before  the  popular  hero  of  Sherwood. 

Our  northern  archers  were  not  unkno\vn  to  their  southern 
countrymen  :  their  excellence  at  the  longbow  is  often  alluded  to 
by  our  ancient  poets.  Shakespeare,  in  liis  comedy  of  Much  adoc 
about  nothing,  act  i.,  makes  licncdick  confirm  his  resolves  of 
not  yielding  to  love,  by  this  protestation,  "  If  I  do,  hang  me  in  a 


154  ADAM   BELL, 

bottle  like  a  cat,*  and  shoot  at  me,  and  he  that  hits  me,  let  him  be 
clapt  on  the  shoulder,  and  called  Adam  .-"  meaning  Adam  Bell,  as 
Theobald  rightly  observes,  who  refers  to  one  or  two  other  passages 
in  our  old  poets  wherein  he  is  mentioned.  The  Oxford  editor  has 
also  well  conjectured,  that  "  Abraham  Cupid"  in  Romeo  and  Juliet , 
act  ii.  sc.  I,  should  be  "  Adam  Cupid,"  in  allusion  to  our  archer. 
Ben  Jonson  has  mentioned  Clym  d  the  Cloiigh  in  his  Alchemist, 
act  i,  sc.  2.  And  Sir  William  Davenant,  in  a  mock  poem  of  his, 
called  "  The  long  vacation  in  London^'  describes  the  Attorneys  and 
Proctors,  as  making  matches  to  meet  in  Finsbury  fields. 

"  With  loynes  in  canvas  bow-case  tyde  if 
^  Where  arrowes  stick  with  mickle  pride ;  .  .  • 
Like  ghosts  of  Adam  Bell  and  Clymme. 
Sol  sets  for  fear  they'l  shoot  at  him." 

Works,  1673,  fol.  p.  291. 

I  have  only  to  add  further  concerning  the  principal  hero  of  this 
Ballad,  that  the  Bells  were  noted  rogues  in  the  North  so  late  as  the 
time  of  Q.  Elizabeth.  See  in  Rymer's  Fcedera,  a  letter  from  lord 
William  Howard  to  some  of  the  officers  of  state,  wherein  he  men- 
tions them. 

As  for  the  following  stanzas,  which  will  be  judged  from  the  style, 
orthography,  and  numbers,  to  be  of  considerable  antiquity,  they  were 
here  given  (corrected  in  some  places  by  a  MS.  copy  in  the  Editor's 
old  folio)  from  a  black-letter  4to.  Ijnprinted  at  London  in  Lothburye 
by  Wyllyam  Copland  (no  date).  That  old  quarto  edition  seems  to 
be  exactly  followed  in  Pieces  of  Anciejii  Popular  Poetry,  6^r.  Lond. 
1791,1  8vo.,  the  variations  from  which  that  occur  in  the  following 
copy,  are  selected  from  many  others  in  the  foho  MS.  above-men- 
tioned, and  when  distinguished  by  the  usual  inverted  *  comma,' 
have  been  assisted  by  conjecture. 

In  the  same  MS.  this  Ballad  is  followed  by  another,  intitled 
Younge  Cloudeslee,  being  a  continuation  of  the  present  story,  and  re- 
citing the  adventures  of  William  of  Cloudesly's  son :  but  greatly 
inferior  to  this  both  in  merit  and  antiquity. 


*  Bottles  formerly  were  of  leather;  though  perhaps  a  wooden 
bottle  might  be  here  meant.  It  is  still  a  diversion  in  Scotland  to 
hang  up  a  cat  in  a  small  cask  or  firkin,  half  filled  with  soot :  and  then 
a  parcel  of  clowns  on  horseback  try  to  beat  out  the  ends  of  it,  in 
order  to  show  their  dexterity  in  escaping  before  the  contents  fall 
upon  them. 

t  /.  ^.  Each  with  a  canvas  bow-case  tied  round  his  loins. 

it  Ritson's  book.]  , 


CLYM  OF   THE   C LOUGH,   ETC.     155 

[The  version  here  printed  differs  but  slightly  from  the  one  in  the 
Folio  MS.  (ed.  Hales  and  Furnivall,  1868,  vol.  iii.  p.  76),  and  as 
the  latter  is  of  no  critical  value  it  has  been  thought  unnecessary  to 
point  out  the  various  readings.  A  fragment  of  an  older  edition 
than  Copland's  mentioned  above  has  been  recovered  by  Mr.  Payne 
Collier,  which  is  attributed  to  the  press  of  Wynkyn  de  Worde  by 
Mr.  W.  C.  HazHtt. 

This  spirited  ballad  is  mentioned  by  Laneham  in  his  Catalogue 
of  Captain  Cox's  ballads,  and  the  various  editions  it  has  passed 
through,  and  the  frequent  references  to  it  in  literature,  prove  its 
great  and  deserved  popularity. 

The  circumstances  of  the  second  Fit  resemble  closely  the  rescue 
of  Robin  Hood  by  Little  John,  as  related  in  ''Robin  Hood  and 
the  Monk,"  and  the  incident  of  the  shot  at  the  apple  in  the  third 
Fit  bears  a  curious  likeness  to  the  very  ancient  myth  which  is 
associated  with  William  Tell.  "Allane  Bell"  is  mentioned  by 
Dunbar  in  company  with  Robin  Hood,  Guy  of  Gisborne,  and 
others,  which  proves  that  in  his  time  these  names  had  become 
mere  abstractions.] 


PART  THE  FIRST. 

ERY  it  was  in  the  grene  forest 
Amonge  the  levcs  grene, 
Wheras  men  hunt  east  and  west 
Wyth  bowes  and  arrowes  kene  ; 

To  raise  the  dere  out  of  theyr  denne  ;  s 

Suche  fiofhtes  hath  ofte  bene  sene  ; 

As  by  thre  yemen  of  the  north  countrey, 
By  them  it  is  I  meane. 

The  one  of  them  hight  Adam  Bel, 

The  other  Clym  of  the  Clough,*  10 

The  thyrd  was  WilHam  of  Cloudesly, 

An  archer  good  ynough. 


♦  Clym  pf  the  Clough,  means  Clem.  [Clement]  of  the  Cliff:  for 
so  Clough  signifies  in  the  North. 


156  ADAM   BELL, 

They  were  outlawed  for  venyson, 

These  yemen  everych-one  ; 
They  swore  them  brethren  upon  a  day,  15 

To  Englyshe  wood  for  to  gone. 

Now  Hth^  and  lysten,  gentylmen, 

That  of  myrthes  loveth  to  here  : 
Two  of  them  were  single  men, 

The  third  had  a  wedded  fere.^  20 

Wyllyam  was  the  wedded  man, 

Muche  more  then  was  hys  care : 
He  sayde  to  hys  brethren  upon  a  day, 

To  Carleile  he  would  fare  ; 

For  to  speke  with  fayre  Alyce  his  wife,  25 

And  with  hys  chyldren  thre. 
By  my  trouth,  sayde  Adam  Bel, 

Not  by  the  counsell  of  me  : 

For  if  ye  go  to  Carlile,  brother. 

And  from  thys  wylde  wode  wende,^  30 

If  that  the  justice  may  you  take. 

Your  lyfe  were  at  an  ende. 

If  that  I  come  not  to-morowe,  brother, 

By  pryme^  to  you  agayne, 
Truste  you  then  that  I  am  '  taken,'  35 

Or  else  that  I  am  slayne. 

He  toke  hys  leave  of  hys  brethren  two, 

And  to  Carlile  he  is  gon  : 
There  he  knocked  at  his  owne  windowe 

Shortlye  and  anone.  40 

Ver.  24.   Caerlel,  in  PC.  passim.     V.  35.  take,  PC.  tanc,  MS. 

['  attend.     ^  companion  or  wife.    ^  from  this  wild  wood  depart. 
"*  six  o'clock  in  the  morning.]  - 


CLYM  OF  THE   C LOUGH.    ETC.     157 

Wher  be  you,  fayre  Alyce,  he  sayd, 

INIy  wife  and  chyldren  three  ? 
Lyghtly  let  in  thyne  owne  husbande, 

Wyllyam  of  Cloudeslee. 

Alas  !  then  sayde  fayre  Alyce,  45 

And  syghed  wonderous  sore, 
Thys  place  hath  ben  besette  for  you 

Thys  halfe  a  yere  and  more. 

Now  am  I  here,  sayde  Cloudeslee, 

I  would  that  in  I  were.  50 

Now  fetche  us  meate  and  drynke  ynoughe, 

And  let  us  make  good  chere. 

She  fetched  hym  meate  and  drynke  plentye, 

Lyke  a  true  wedded  wyfe  ; 
And  pleased  hym  with  that  she  had,  55 

Whome  she  loved  as  her  lyfe. 

There  lay  an  old  wyfe  in  that  place, 

A  lytle  besyde  the  fyre, 
W'hych  Wyllyam  had  found  of  charytye 

More  than  seven  yere.  60 

Up  she  rose,  and  forth  shee  goes, 
Evill  mote^  shee  speede  therfore  ; 

For  shee  had  sett  no  foote  on  ground 
In  seven  yere  before. 

She  went  unto  the  justice  hall,  65 

As  fast  as  she  could  hye  : 
Thys  night,  shee  sayd,  is  come  to  town 

\\'}llyam  of  Cloudeslye, 

Thereof  the  justice  was  full  fayne,* 

And  so  was  the  shirife  also  :  70 

['  might.  '^  glad.] 


158  ADAM   BELL, 

Thou  shalt  not  trauaile  hither,  dame,  for  nought. 
Thy  meed  thou  shalt  have  ere  thou  go. 

They  gave  to  her  a  ryght  good  goune, 

Of  scarlate,  '  and  of  graine  '  : 
She  toke  the  gyft,  and  home  she  wente,  7.5 

And  couched  her  doune  agayne. 

They  raysed  the  towne  of  mery  Carleile 

In  all  the  haste  they  can  ; 
And  came  thronging  to  Wyllyames  house, 

As  fast  as  they  might  gone.  80 

There  they  besette  that  good  yeman 

Round  about  on  every  syde  : 
Wyllyam  hearde  great  noyse  of  folkes. 

That  thither-ward  fast  hyed. 

Alyce  opened  a  backe  wyndowe,  85 

And  loked  all  aboute. 
She  was  ware  of  the  justice  and  shirife  bothe, 

Wyth  a  full  great  route.  ^ 

Alas !  treason,  cryed  Alyce, 

Ever  wo  may  thou  be  !  90 

Goe  into  my  chamber,  my  husband,  she  sayd, 

Swete  Wyllyam  of  Cloudeslee. 

He  toke  hys  sword  and  hys  bucler, 
Hys  bow  and  hys  chyldren  thre. 

And  wente  into  hys  strongest  chamber,  95 

Where  he  thought  surest  to  be. 

Fayre  Alyce,  like  a  lover  true. 

Took  a  pollaxe  in  her  hande  : 
Said,  He  shall  dye  that  cometh  in 

Thys  dore,  whyle  I  may  stand.  100 

Ver.  85.  sic  MS.  shop  window,  PC. 
\}  company.] 


CLYM  OF   THE   C LOUGH,   ETC.     159 

Cloudeslee  bente  a  right  good  bowe, 

That  was  of  a  trusty  tre, 
He  smot  the  justise  on  the  brest, 

That  hys  arowe  burst  in  three. 

'A'  curse  on  his  harte,  saide  WilHam,  105 

Thys  day  thy  cote  dyd  on  ! 
If  it  had  ben  no  better  then  myne, 

It  had  gone  nere  thy  bone. 

Yelde  the  Cloudesle,  sayd  the  justise, 

And  thy  bowe  and  thy  arrowes  the  fro."       no 

'  A '  curse  on  hys  hart,  sayd  fair  Alyce, 
That  my  husband  councclleth  so. 

Set  fyre  on  the  house,  saide  the  sherife, 

Syth  it  wyll  no  better  be, 
And  brenne'^  we  therin  William,  he  saide,        115 

Hys  wyfe  and  chyldren  thre. 

They  fyred  the  house  in  many  a  place, 

The  fyre  flew  up  on  hye  : 
Alas  !  then  cryed  fayre  Ahce, 

I  se  we  here  shall  dye.  120 

William  openyd  a  backe  wyndow, 

That  was  in  hys  chamber  hie. 
And  there  with  sheetes  he  did  let  downe 

His  wyfe  and  children  three. 

Have  you  here  my  treasure,  sayde  William,    125 

My  wyfe  and  my  chyldren  thre  : 
For  Christes  love  do  them  no  harme, 

But  wreke  you  all  on  me. 

Wyll)am  shot  so  wonderous  well, 

Tyll  hys  arrowes  were  all  agoe,  130 

[^  from  thee.  ^  burn.] 


i6o  ADAM   BELL, 

And  the  fyre  so  fast  upon  hym  fell, 
That  hys  bowstryng  brent  ^  in  two. 

The  sparkles  brent  and  fell  upon 

Good  Wyllyam  of  Cloudesle  : 
Than  was  he  a  wofull  man,  and  sayde,  135 

Thys  is  a  cowardes  death  to  me. 

Leever'^  had  I,  sayde  Wyllyam, 

With  my  sworde  in  the  route  to  renne,"^ 

Then  here  among  myne  enemyes  wode* 

Thus  cruelly  to  bren.  140 

He  toke  hys  sword  and  hys  buckler, 

And  among  them  all  he  ran. 
Where  the  people  were  most  in  prece,^ 

He  smot  downe  many  a  man. 

There  myght  no  man  abyde  hys  stroakes,       145 

So  fersly^  on  them  he  ran  : 
Then  they  threw  wyndowes,  and  dores  on  him, 

And  so  toke  that  good  yeman. 

There  they  hym  bounde  both  hand  and  fote. 
And  in  a  deepe  dungeon  him  cast :  150 

Now  Cloudesle,  sayd  the  justice, 
Thou  shalt  be  hanged  in  hast. 

'  A  payre  of  new  gallowes,  sayd  the  sherife, 

Now  shal  I  for  thee  make  ; ' 
And  the  gates  of  Carleil  shal  be  shutte  :  155 

No  man  shal  come  in  therat. 

Then  shall  not  helpe  Clym  of  the  Cloughe, 
Nor  yet  shall  Adam  Bell, 

Ver,  151.  Sic  MS.  hye  Justice,  PC.     V.  153,  4,  are  contracted 
from  the  folio  MS.  and  PC. 

[^  burnt.         2  sooner.         ^  in  the  crowd  to  run.         "^  wild. 
^  in  a  crowd.  "  fiercely.] 


CLYM  OF   THE   C LOUGH,   ETC.     i6i 

Though  they  came  with  a  thousand  mo, 

Nor  all  the  devels  in  hell.  160 

Early  in  the  mornynge  the  justice  uprose, 

To  the  o-ates  first  can  he  irone, 
And  commaunded  to  be  shut  full  close 

Lightile^  evcrych-one. 

Then  went  he  to  the  markett  place,  165 

As  fast  as  he  coulde  hye  ; 
There  a  payre  of  new  gallowes  he  set  up 

Besyde  the  pyllorye. 

A  lytle  boy  '  among  them  asked,' 

What  meaned  that  gallow-tre  ?  170 

They  sayde  to  hange  a  good  yeman, 

Called  Wyllyam  of  Cloudesle. 

That  lytle  boye  was  the  towne  swyne-heard, 

And  kept  fayre  Alyces  swyne  ; 
Oft  he  had  seene  William  in  the  wodde,  175 

And  geuen  hym  there  to  dyne. 

He  went  out  att  a  crevis  of  the  wall,  » 

And  lightly  to  the  woode  dyd  gone  ; 

There  met  he  with  these  wightye'^  yemen 
Shortly  and  anone. 


ISO 


Alas  !  then  sayde  the  lytle  boye, 

Ye  tary  here  all  too  longe  ; 
Cloudeslee  is  taken,  and  dampned^  to  death. 

And  readye  for  to  honge.^ 

Alas  !  then  sayd  good  Adam  Bell,  185 

That  ever  we  saw  thys  daye ! 
He  had  better  have  tarryed  with  us, 

So  ofte  as  we  dyd  hym  praye, 

Ver.  179.  yonge  men,  PC. 

[}  quickly.  ^  lusty.  ''  condemned.  '  Jibing-] 

M 


i62  ADAM   BELL, 

He  myght  have  dwelt  in  grene  foreste, 

Under  the  shadowes  greene,  190 

And  have  kepte  both  hym  and  us  att  reste, 
Out  of  all  trouble  and  teene.^ 

Adam  bent  a  ryght  good  bow, 

A  great  hart  sone  hee  had  slayne  : 

Take  that,  chylde,  he  sayde,  to  thy  dynner,     19s 
And  bryng  me  myne  arrowe  agayne. 

Now  go  we  hence,  sayed  these  wightye  yeomen, 

Tarry  we  no  longer  here  ; 
We  shall  hym  borowe*^  by  God  his  grace, 

Though  we  buy  itt  full  dere.  200 


( 


To  Caerleil  wente  these  bold  yemen, 
All  in  a  mornyng  of  maye. 

Here  is  a  fyt  of  Cloudeslye, 
And  another  is  for  to  saye. 


PART  THE  SECOND. 

ND  when  they  came  to  mery  Carleile, 
All  in  *  the'  mornyng  tyde, 
They  founde  the  gates  shut  them  untyll 
About  on  every  syde. 

Alas  !  then  sayd  good  Adam  Bell, 

That  ever  we  were  made  men ! 
These  gates  be  shut  so  wonderous  fast, 

We  may  not  come  therein. 


Ver.  190.  sic  MS.  shadowes  sheene,  PC.     V.  ig"].  Jolly  yeomen, 
MS.  zvight  yong  juen,  PC. 

['  vexation.         ^  redeem.         ^  unto.] 


CLYM  OF  THE   C LOUGH,   ETC.     i6 


Then  bespake  him  Clym  of  the  Clough, 

Wyth  a  wyle  we  wyl  us  in  bryng ;  lo 

Let  us  saye  we  be  messengers, 

Streyght  come  nowe  from  our  king. 

Adam  said,  I  have  a  letter  written, 

Now  let  us  wysely  werke, 
We  wyl  saye  we  have  the  kynges  seale ;  i  s 

I  holde  the  porter  no  clerke.  ) 

Then  Adam  Bell  bete  on  the  orates 

With  strokes  Q^reat  and  stronore : 
The  porter  marvelled,  who  was  therat, 

And  to  the  gates  he  thronge.^  20 

Who  is  there  now,  sayde  the  porter, 
That  maketh  all  thys  knockinge  ? 

We  be  tow  messengers,  quoth  Clim  of  the  Clough, 
Be  come  ryght  from  our  kyng. 

We  have  a  letter,  sayd  Adam  Bel,  25 

To  the  justice  we  must  itt  bryng; 

Let  us  in  our  message  to  do. 

That  we  were  agayne  to  the  kyng. 

Here  commeth  none  in,  sayd  the  porter, 

By  hym  that  dyed  on  a  tre,  30 

Tyll  a  false  thefe  be  hanged. 
Called  Wyllyam  of  Cloudesle. 

Then  spake  the  good  yeman  Clym  of  the  Clough, 

And  swore  by  Mary  fre. 
And  if  that  we  stande  long  wythout,  35 

Lyke  a  thefe  hanged  shalt  thou  be. 

Lo  !  here  we  have  the  kynges  seale  : 
What,  Lurden,'^  art  thou  wode  V 

Ver.  38.   Lordeyne,  PC. 
['  hastened.         ^  sluggard  or  stupid  fellow.         •*  mad.] 


i64  ADAM   BELL, 

The  porter  went*  it  had  ben  so, 

And  lyghtly  dyd  off  hys  hode/  40 

Welcome  is  my  lordes  seale,  he  saide ; 

For  that  ye  shall  come  in. 
He  opened  the  gate  full  shortlye  : 
/       An  euyl  openyng  for  him. 

Now  are  we  in,  sayde  Adam  Bell,  45 

Wherof  we  are  full  faine  f 
But  Christ  he  knowes,  that  harowed^  hell. 

How  we  shall  com  out  agayne. 

Had  we  the  keys,  said  Clim  of  the  Clough, 
Ryght  wel  then  shoulde  we  spede,  50 

Then  might  we  come  out  wel  ynough 
When  we  se  tyme  and  nede. 

They  called  the  porter  to  counsell, 

And  wrang  his  necke  in  two, 
And  caste  hym  in  a  depe  dungeon,  55 

And  toke  hys  keys  hym  fro. 

Now  am  I  porter,  sayd  Adam  Bel, 

Se  brother  the  keys  are  here. 
The  worst  porter  to  merry  Carleile 

That  '  the'  had  thys  hundred  yere.  60 

And  now  wyll  we  our  bowes  bend. 

Into  the  towne  wyll  we  go, 
For  to  delyuer  our  dere  brother, 

That  lyeth  in  care  and  wo. 


*  i.  e.  weened,  thought  (which  last  is  the  reading  of  the  folio 

MS.) Calais,  or  Rouen  was  taken  from  the  English  by  showing 

the  governor,  who  could  not  read,  a  letter  with  the  king's  seal, 
which  was  all  he  looked  at. 

\}  doffed  his  hood.  ^  glad.  ^  despoiled.] 


CLYM  OF  THE   CLOUGH,   ETC.     165 

Then  they  bent  theyr  g-ood  ewe  bowes,  65 

And  loked  the}T  stringes  were  round,"'^ 

The  markett  place  in  mery  Carleile 
They  beset  thatstound/ 

And,  as  they  loked  them  besyde, 

A  paire  of  new  galowes  '  they'  see,  70 

And  the  justice  with  a  quest  ■^  of  squyers, 

That  judged  William  hanged  to  be. 

And  Cloudesle  lay  redy  there  in  a  cart, 
Fast  bound  both  fote  and  hand ; 

And  a  stronge  rop  about  hys  necke,  75 

All  readye  for  to  hange. 

The  justice  called  to  him  a  ladde, 
Cloudeslees  clothes  hee  shold  have, 

To  take  the  measure  of  that  yeman, 

Therafter  to  make  hys  grave.  80 

I  have  sene  as  great  mervaile,  said  Cloudesle, 

As  betweyne  thys  and  pryme. 
He  that  maketh  a  grave  for  mee, 

Hymselfe  may  lye  therin. 

Thou  speakest  proudlye,  said  the  justice,  85 

I  will  thee  hange  with  my  hande. 

Full  wel  herd  this  his  brethren  two, 
There  styll  as  they  dyd  stande. 

Then  Cloudesle  cast  his  eyen  asyde, 

And  saw  hys  '  brethren  twaine'  90 

At  a  corner  of  the  market  place, 
Redy  the  justice  for  to  slaine. 

*  So  Ascham  in  his  Toxophilus  gives  a  precept ;  "  The  Stringe 
must  be  rounde"  (p.  149-  Ed.  1761)  :  otherwise,  we  may  conclude 
from  mechanical  principles,  the  Arrow  will  not  fly  true. 

['  hour.  2  imjuest.] 


i66  ADAM   BELL, 

I  se  comfort,  sayd  Cloudesle, 

Yet  hope  I  well  to  fare, 
If  I  might  have  my  handes  at  wyll  95 

Ryght  lytle  wolde  I  care. 

Then  spake  good  Adam  Bell 

To  Clym  of  the  Clough  so  free, 
Brother,  se  you  marke  the  justyce  wel ; 

Lo  !  yonder  you  may  him  se  :  100 

And  at  the  shyrife  shote  I  wyll 

Strongly  wyth  an  arrowe  kene ; 
A  better  shote  in  mery  Carleile 

Thys  seven  yere  was  not  sene. 

They  loosed  their  arrowes  both  at  once,  105 

Of  no  man  had  they  dread  ; 
The  one  hyt  the  justice,  the  other  the  sheryfe, 

That  both  theyr  sides  gan  blede. 

All  men  voyded,^  that  them  stode  nye. 

When  the  justice  fell  to  the  grounde,  no 

And  the  sherife  nye  hym  by ; 
Eyther  had  his  deathes  wounde. 

All  the  citezens  fast  gan  flye. 

They  durst  no  longer  abyde  : 
There  lyghtly  they  losed  Cloudeslee,  115 

Where  he  with  ropes  lay  tyde. 

Wyllyam  start  to  an  officer  of  the  towne, 
Hys  axe  '  from'  hys  hand  he  wronge, 

On  eche  syde  he  smote  them  downe, 

Hee  thought  he  taryed  to  long.  120 

Wyllyam  sayde  to  hys  brethren  two, 
Thys  daye  let  us  lyve  and  die, 

Ver.  105.  loivsed  thre,  PC.     V.  108.  can  bled,  MS. 
['  went  off.] 


CLVJ/  OF  THE   CLOUGH,   ETC.     167 

If  ever  you  have  nede,  as  I  have  now, 
The  same  shall  you  finde  by  me. 

They  shot  so  well  in  that  tyde,  125 

Theyr  stringes  were  of  silke  ful  sure, 

That  they  kept  the  stretes  on  every  side ; 
That  batayle  did  long  endure. 

They  fought  together  as  brethren  true, 

Lyke  hardy  men  and  bolde,  130 

Many  a  man  to  the  ground  they  threw, 
And  many  a  herte  made  colde. 

But  when  their  arrowes  were  all  gon, 

Men  preced  ^  to  them  full  fast. 
They  drew  theyr  swordes  then  anone,  135 

And  theyr  bowes  from  them  cast. 

They  went  lyghtlye  on  theyr  way, 
Wyth  swordes  and  buclers  round  ; 

By  that  it  was  mydd  of  the  day, 

They  made  many  a  wound.  140 

There  was  an  out-horne*  in  Carleil  blowen. 
And  the  belles  backward  dyd  ryng. 

Many  a  woman  sayde,  Alas ! 

And  many  theyr  handes  dyd  wryng. 

The  mayre  of  Carleile  forth  com  was,  145 

Wyth  hym  a  ful  great  route  :^ 
These  yemen  dred  hym  full  sore. 

Of  theyr  lyves  they  stode  in  great  doute.^ 


*  Outhorne,  is  an  old  term  signifying  the  calling  forth  of  subjects 
to  arms  by  the  sound  of  a  horn.  See  Cole's  Lat.  Diet.,  Bailey,  &c. 
[Perhaps  "  a  nouthome,"  or  neat's  horn,  from  nowt,  cattle.] 

Vcr.  148.  For  of,  MS. 

['  pressed.  '^  company.  -^  fear.] 


i68  ADAM   BELL, 

The  mayre  came  armed  a  full  great  pace, 

With  a  poUaxe  in  hys  hande  ;  150 

Many  a  strong  man  wyth  him  was, 
There  in  that  stowre^  to  stande. 

The  mayre  smot  at  Cloudeslee  with  his  bil,^ 

Hys  bucler  he  brast^  in  two. 
Full  many  a  yeman  with  great  evyll,  155 

Alas  !  Treason  they  cryed  for  wo. 
Kepe  well  the  gates  fast,  they  bad. 

That  these  traytours  therout  not  go. 

But  al  for  nought  was  that  they  wrought. 

For  so  fast  they  downe  were  layde,  160 

Tyll  they  all  thre,  that  so  manfulli  fought, 
I       Were  gotten  without,  abraide."* 

Have  here  your  keys,  sayd  Adam  Bel, 

Myne  office  I  here  forsake. 
And  yf  you  do  by  my  counsel!  165 

A  new  porter  do  ye  make. 

He  threw  theyr  keys  at  theyr  heads. 

And  bad  them  well  to  thryve,* 
And  all  that  letteth  any  good  yeman 

To  come  and  comfort  his  wyfe.  170 

Thus  be  these  good  yeman  gon  to  the  wod 

As  lyghtly,  as  lefe  on  lynde  ;  ^ 
The  lough  and  be  mery  in  theyr  mode, 

Theyr  enemyes  were  ferr  behynd. 

When  they  came  to  Englyshe  wode,  175 

Under  the  trusty  tre, 

*  "^his  is  spoken  ironically. 

Ver.  175.  merry  green  wood,  MS. 

\}  fight.  ^  pike  or  halbert.         '  burst. 

^  abroad.         ^  lime  tree.] 


CLVM  OF   THE   C LOUGH,   ETC.     169 

There  they  found  bowes  full  good, 
And  arrowes  full  great  plentye. 

So  God  me  help,  sayd  Adam  Bell, 

And  Clym  of  the  Clough  so  fre,  180 

I  would  we  were  in  mery  Carleile, 

Before  that  fayre  meynye/ 

They  set  them  downe,  and  made  good  chere, 

And  eate  and  dranke  full  well. 
A  second  fyt  of  the  wightye  yeomen  :  185 

Another  I  wyll  you  tell. 


PART  THE  THIRD. 

S  they  sat  in  Englyshe  wood, 
Under  the  grecn-wode  tre. 
They  thought  they  herd  a  woman  wepe. 
But  her  they  mought^  not  se. 

Sore  then  syghed  the  fayre  Alyce  :  5 

'  That  ever  I  sawe  thys  day  !' 
For  nowe  is  my  dere  husband  slayne : 

Alas  !  and  wel-a-way  ! 

Myght  I  have  spoken  wyth  hys  dere  brethren. 
Or  with  eyther  of  them  twayne,  10 

To  show  them  what  him  befell, 
]\Iy  hart  were  out  of  payne. 

Cloudesle  walked  a  lytle  beside, 

He  looked  under  the  grene  wood  lynde. 


Vcr.  185.  see  Parti,  ver.  197. 
\}  company.  '  might.] 


I70  ADAM   BELL, 

He  was  ware  of  his  wife,  and  cliyldren  three,  15 
Full  wo  in  harte  and  mynde. 

/  Welcome,  wyfe,  then  sayde  Wyllyam, 
Under  '  this'  trusti  tre  : 
I  had  wende^  yesterday,  by  swete  saynt  John, 
Thou  sholdest  me  never  *  have'  se.  20 

"  Now  well  is  me  that  ye  be  here, 

My  harte  is  out  of  wo." 
Dame,  he  sayde,  be  mery  and  glad. 

And  thanke  my  brethren  two. 

Herof  to  speake,  said  Adam  Bell,  as 

I -wis  it  is  no  bote : 
/  The  meate,  that  we  must  supp  withall. 
It  runneth  yet  fast  on  fote. 

Then  went  they  downe  into  a  launde,^ 

These  noble  archares  all  thre ;  30 

Eche  of  them  slew  a  hart  of  greece,' 
The  best  that  they  cold  se. 

Have  here  the  best,  Alyce,  my  wyfe, 

Sayde  Wyllyam  of  Cloudeslye  ; 
By  cause  ye  so  bouldly  stode  by  me  35 

When  I  was  slayne  full  nye. 

Then  went  they  to  suppere 

Wyth  suche  meate  as  they  had ; 
And  thanked  God  of  ther  fortune  : 

They  were  both  mery  and  glad.  40 

And  when  they  had  supped  well, 
Certayne  withouten  lease,^ 
/  Cloudesle  sayd,  We  wyll  to  our  kyng, 
V      To  get  us  a  charter  of  peace. 

Ver.  20.  never  had  se,  PC.  and  MS. 

['  thought.  ^  clear  space  in  a  forest. 

■''  fat  hart.  ■*  without  lying.] 


CLYM  OF   THE   C LOUGH,   ETC.     171 

Alyce  shal  be  at  our  sojournyng  4.5 

In  a  nunnery  here  besyde  ; 
My  tow  sonnes  shall  wyth  her  go, 

And  there  they  shall  abyde. 

Myne  eldest  son  shall  go  wyth  me ; 

For  hym  have  'you'  no  care  :  50 

And  he  shall  bring  you  worde  agayn, 

How  that  we  do  fare. 

Thus  be  these  yemen  to  London  gone, 

As  fast  as  they  myght  '  he,'* 
Tyll  they  came  to  the  kynges  pallace,  55 

Where  they  woulde  nedes  be. 

And  whan  they  came  to  the  kynges  courte, 

Unto  the  pallace  gate, 
Of  no  man  wold  they  aske  no  leave, 

But  boldly  went  in  therat.  60 

They  preced  prestly^  into  the  hall,     s 

Of  no  man  had  they  dreade  : 
The  porter  came  after,  and  dyd  them  call. 

And  with  them  began  to  chyde. 

The  usher  sayde,  Yemen,  what  wold  ye  have  ?    65 

I  pray  you  tell  to  me  : 
You  myght  thus  make  offycers  shent:* 

Good  syrs,  of  whence  be  ye  ? 

Syr,  we  be  out-lawes  of  the  forest 

Ccrtayne  withouten  lease  ;  70 

And  hether  we  be  come  to  the  kyng, 

To  get  us  a  charter  of  peace. 

And  whan  they  came  before  the  kyng, 
As  it  was  the  lawe  of  the  lande, 

Ver.  50.  have  I  no  care,  PC.  *  i.e.  hie,  hasten. 

['  pressed  (juickly.  '  blamed.] 


172  ADAM   BELL, 

The  kneled  downe  without  lettyng,  75 

And  eche  held  up  his  hand. 

The  sayed,  Lord,  we  beseche  the  here, 

That  ye  wyll  graunt  us  grace ; 
For  we  have  slayne  your  fat  falow  dere 

In  many  a  sondry  place.  80 

What  be  your  nams,  then  said  our  king, 

Anone  that  you  tell  me  ? 
They  sayd,  Adam  Bell,  Clim  of  the  Clough, 

And  Wyllyam  of  Cloudesle. 

Be  ye  those  theves,  then  sayd  our  kyng,  85 

That  men  have  tolde  of  to  me  ? 
Here  to  God  I  make  an  avowe. 

Ye  shal  be  hanged  al  thre. 

Ye  shal  be  dead  without  mercy, 

As  I  am  kynge  of  this  lande.  90 

He  commanded  his  officers  everlch-one. 

Fast  on  them  to  lay  hande. 

There  they  toke  these  good  yemen. 

And  arested  them  al  thre  : 
So  may  I  thryve,  sayd  Adam  Bell,  95 

Thys  game  lyketh  not  me. 

But,  good  lorde,  we  beseche  you  now, 

That  yee  graunt  us  grace, 
Insomuche  as  'frely'  we  be  to  you  come, 

'  As  frely'  we  may  fro  you  passe,  100 

With  such  weapons,  as  we  have  here, 

Tyll  we  be  out  of  your  place  ; 
And  yf  we  lyve  this  hundreth  yere. 

We  wyll  aske  you  no  grace. 

Ye  speake  proudly,  sayd  the  kynge ;  105 

Ye  shall  be  hanged  all  thre. 


CLYM  OF   THE   C LOUGH,   ETC.     173 

That  were  great  pitye,  then  sayd  the  quene, 
If  any  grace  myght  be. 

]\Iy  lorde,  whan  I  came  fyrst  into  this  lande 
To  be  your  wedded  wyfe,  no 

The  fyrst  boone  that  I  wold  aske, 
Ye  would  graunt  it  me  belyfe  •} 

And  I  asked  you  never  none  tyll  now ; 

Therefore  good  lorde,  graunt  it  me, 
Now  aske  it,  madam,  sayd  the  kynge,  115 

And  graunted  it  shal  be. 

Then,  good  my  lord,  I  you  beseche, 
These  yemen  graunt  ye  me.  ' 

Madame,  ye  myght  have  asked  a  boone, 

That  shuld  have  been  worth  them  all  thre.     120 

Ye  myght  have  asked  towres,  and  townes, 

Parkes  and  forestes  plente. 
None  soe  pleasant  to  my  pay,^  shee  sayd ; 

Nor  none  so  lefe^  to  me. 

Madame,  sith  it  is  your  desyre,  125 

Your  askyng  graunted  shal  be  ; 
But  I  had  lever  have  geven  you 

Good  market  townes  thre. 

The  quene  was  a  glad  woman, 

And  sayde.  Lord,  gramarcy  :*  130 

I  dare  undertake  for  them, 

That  true  men  shal  they  be. 

But  good  my  lord,  speke  som  mery  word, 

That  comfort  they  may  se. 
I  graunt  you  grace,  then  sayd  our  king;  135 

Washe,  felos,  and  to  meate  go  ye. 


Ver.  Ill,  119.  sic.  MS.  bowne,  PC.     V.  130.  God  a  tnenye,  MS. 
['  at  once.         ^  satisfaction.         ^  dear.  "*  I  thank  you.] 


174  ADAM   BELL, 

They  had  not  setten  but  a  whyle 

Certayne  without  lesynge/ 
There  came  messengers  out  of  the  north 

With  letters  to  our  kyng.  140 

And  whan  the  came  before  the  kynge, 

They  knelt  downe  on  theyr  kne ; 
And  sayd,  Lord,  your  officers  grete  you  well, 
\     Of  Carleile  in  the  north  cuntre. 

How  fareth  my  justice,  sayd  the  kyng,  14.5 

And  my  sherife  also  ? 
Syr,  they  be  siayne  without  leasynge, 

And  many  an  officer  mo. 

Who  hath  them  siayne,  sayd  the  kyng ; 

Anone  that  thou  tell  me  ?  150 

"  Adam  Bell,  and  Clime  of  the  Clough, 

And  Wyllyam  of  Cloudesle." 

Alas  for  rewth  !^  then  sayd  our  kynge  : 

My  hart  is  wonderous  sore ; 
I  had  lever^  than  a  thousande  pounde,  155 

I  had  knowne  of  thys  before  ; 

For  I  have  graunted  them  grace, 

And  that  forthynketh^  me  : 
But  had  I  knowne  all  thys  before, 

They  had  been  hanged  all  thre.  160 

The  kyng  hee  opened  the  letter  anone, 

Himselfe  he  red  it  thro. 
And  founde  how  these  outlawes  had  slain 

Thre  hundred  men  and  mo  : 

Fyrst  the  justice,  and  the  sheryfe,  165 

And  the  mayre  of  Carleile  towne ; 

['  lying.         2  pity.         ''  rather.         *  vexeth.] 


CLYM  OF   THE   C LOUGH,   ETC.     175 

Of  all  the  constables  and  catchlpolles 
Alyve  were  'scant'  left  one  : 

The  baylyes,  and  the  bedyls  both, 

And  the  sergeauntes  of  the  law,  170 

And  forty  fosters  of  the  fe,^ 

These  outlawes  had  yslaw  :' 

And  broke  his  parks,  and  slayne  his  dere ; 

Of  all  they  chose  the  best ; 
So  perelous  out-lawes,  as  they  were,  175 

Walked  not  by  easte  nor  west. 

When  the  kynge  this  letter  had  red, 

In  hys  harte  he  syghed  sore  : 
Take  up  the  tables  anone  he  bad, 

For  I  may  eat  no  more.  180 

The  kyng  called  hys  best  archars 

To  the  buttes  wyth  hym  to  go  : 
I  wyll  se  these  felowes  shote,  he  sayd, 

In  the  north  have  wrouo^ht  this  wo. 

The  kynges  bowmen  buske  them  blyve,''         185 

And  the  quenes  archers  also  ; 
So  dyd  these  thre  wyghtye  yemen ; 

With  them  they  thought  to  go. 

There  twyse,  or  thryse  they  shote  about 

For  to  assay  theyr  hande  ;  190 

There  was  no  shote  these  yemen  shot, 
That  any  prycke*  myght  stand. 

Then  spake  Wyllyam  of  Cloudesle  ; 
By  him  that  for  me  dyed, 

Ver.  168.  left  but  one,  MS.  not  om\  PC     V.  185.  blythc,  MS. 
*  i.e.  mark. 

[^  foresters  of  the  king's  demesnes.         ^  slain. 
•'  get  them  ready  insUmtly.J 


176  ADAM   BELL, 

I  hold  hym  never  no  good  archar,  195 

That  shoteth  at  buttes  so  wyde. 

*  At  what  a  butte  now  wold  ye  shote,' 

I  pray  thee  tell  to  me  ? 
At  suche  a  but,  syr,  he  sayd, 

As  men  use  in  my  countree.  200 

Wyllyam  wente  into  a  fyeld, 

And  '  with  him'  his  two  brethren  : 
There  they  set  up  two  hasell  roddes^ 
'.       Twenty  score  paces  betwene. 

I  hold  him  an  archar,  said  Cloudesle,  205 

That  yonder  wande  cleveth  in  two. 

Here  is  none  suche,  sayd  the  kyng. 
Nor  no  man  can  so  do. 

I  shall  assaye,  syr,  sayd  Cloudesle, 

Or  that  I  farther  gro.  210 

Cloudesly  with  a  bearyng  arowe^ 

Clave  the  wand  in  two. 

Thou  art  the  best  archer,  then  said  the  king, 

Forsothe  that  ever  I  se. 
And  yet  for  your  love,  sayd  Wyllyam,  215 

I  wyll  do  more  maystery.^ 

I  have  a  sonne  is  seven  yere  olde, 
/  He  is  to  me  full  deare  ; 

\     I  wyll  hym  tye  to  a  stake  ; 
All  shall  se,  that  be  here ; 


220 


And  lay  an  apple  upon  hys  head, 
And  go  syxe  score  paces  hym  fro, 


Ver.  202,  203,  212.  to,  PC.     V.  204.  i.e.  400  yards.     V.  208. 
sic  MS.  none  that  can,  PC.    V.  222.  i.e.  120  yards. 

\}  hazel  rods.        "^  an  arrow  that  carries  well.       ^  tj-ial  of  skill.] 


CLYM  OF   THE   C LOUGH,   ETC.     177 

And  I  my  selfe  with  a  brode  arow         ' 
Shall  cleve  the  apple  in  two. 


Now  haste  the,  then  sayd  the  kyng, 
By  hym  that  dyed  on  a  tre, 

But  yf  thou  do  not,  as  thou  hest  sayde, 
Handed  shalt  thou  be. 


t> 


22c 


And  thou  touche  his  head  or  gowne, 

In  fyght  that  men  may  se,  230 

By  all  the  sayntes  that  be  in  heaven, 
I  shall  hange  you  all  thre. 

That  I  have  promised,  said  William, 

That  I  wyll  never  forsake. 
And  there  even  before  the  kynge  235 

In  the  earth  he  drove  a  stake  : 

And  bound  thereto  his  eldest  sonne, 
And  bad  hym  stand  styll  thereat ; 

And  turned  the  childes  face  him  fro, 

Because  he  should  not  start.  24.0 

An  apple  upon  his  head  he  set, 

And  then  his  bowe  he  bent: 
Syxe  score  paces  they  were  meaten, 

And  thether  Cloudesle  went. 

There  he  drew  out  a  fayr  brode  arrowe,  2+5 

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

That  was  both  styffe  and  stronge. 

He  prayed  the  people,  that  wer  there. 

That  they  '  all  still  wold '  stand,  250 

For  he  that  shoteth  for  such  a  wager, 
Bchovcth  a  stedfast  hand. 

Vcr.  243.  sic,  MS.  out  met,  PC.     V.  252.  steedyc,  MS. 

N 


178  ADAM   BELL, 

Muche  people  prayed  for  Cloudesle, 

That  his  lyfe  saved  myght  be, 
And  whan  he  made  hym  redy  to  shote,  255 

There  was  many  weeping  ee. 

'  But '  Cloudesle  clefte  the  apple  in  two, 

*  His  Sonne  he  did  not  nee.'  ^ 
Over  Gods  forbode,  sayde  the  kinge, 

That  thou  shold  shote  at  me.  a6o 

I  geve  thee  eightene  pence  a  day, 
^      And  my  bo  we  shalt  thou  bere, 
(   And  over  all  the  north  countre 
V      I  make  the  chyfe  rydere.^ 

And  I  thyrtene  pence  a  day,  said  the  quene,  265 

By  God,  and  by  my  fay ;  * 
Come  feche  thy  payment  when  thou  wylt, 

No  man  shall  say  the  nay. 

Wyllyam,  I  make  the  a  gentleman 

Of  clothyng,  and  of  fe  :  270 

And  thy  two  brethren,  yemen  of  my  chambre, 

For  they  are  so  semely  to  se. 

Your  Sonne,  for  he  is  tendre  of  age, 

Of  my  wyne-seller  he  shall  be  ; 
And  when  he  commeth  to  mans  estate,  275 

Better  avaunced  shall  he  be. 

And,  Wyllyam,bring  me  your  wife,  said  the  quene. 

Me  longeth  her  sore  to  se  : 
She  shall  be  my  chefe  gentlewoman. 

To  governe  my  nurserye.  280 

The  yemen  thanked  them  all  curteously. 
To  some  byshop  wyl  we  wend, 

Ver.  265.  And  I  geve  the  xvij pence,  PC.     V.  282.  And  say d  to 
some  Bishopp  wee  will  wend,  MS. 

[^  nigh.  2  ranger.  ^  faith.] 


CLYM  OF   THE   C LOUGH,   ETC.     179 

Of  all  the  synnes,  that  we  have  done, 
To  be  assoyld^  at  his  hand. 

So  forth  be  gone  these  good  yemen,  285 

As  fast  as  they  might  '  he  *  ' ; 
And  after  came  and  dwelled  with  the  kynge, 

And  dyed  good  men  all  thre. 

Thus  endeth  the  lives  of  these  good  yemen  ; 

God  send  them  eternall  blysse;  290 

And  all,  that  with  a  hand-bowe  shoteth  : 

That  of  heven  may  never  mysse.     Amen. 


II. 

THE  AGED  LOVER  RENOUNCETH 

LOVE. 

'he  Grave-digger's  song  in  Hamlet,  act  v.  is  taken  from 
three  stanzas  of  the  following  poem,  though  greatly 
altered  and  disguised,  as  the  same  were  corrupted  by  the 
ballad-singers  of  Shakespeare's  time ;  or  perhaps  so  de- 
signed by  the  poet  himself,  the  better  to  suit  the  character  of  an  illi- 
terate clown.  The  original  is  preserved  among  Surrey's  Poems,  and 
is  attributed  to  Lord  Vaux,  by  George  Gascoigne,  who  tells  us,  it 
"was  thought  by  some  to  be  made  upon  his  death-bed  j"  a  popular 
error  which  he  laughs  at.  (See  his  Epist.  to  Yong  Gent,  prefixed 
to  his  Posies,  1575,  4to.)  It  is  also  ascribed  to  Lord  Vaux  in  a 
manuscript  copy  preserved  in  the  British  Museum.f     This  Lord 

*  /le,  i.e.  hie,  hasten. 

t  Harl.  .\LSS.  num.  1703,  §  25.  [Called  in  that  MS.  ''The 
Image  of  Death:'  There  is  another  copy  in  the  Ashmolean  Library 
(MS.  Ashm.  No.  48.)]  The  readings  gathered  from  that  cojjy  arc 
distinguished  here  by  inverted  commas.  The  text  is  printed  from 
the  "  Songs,  c^c.  of  the  Earl  of  Surrey  and  others,  1557,  4to." 

\}  absolved.] 


i8o  THE    AGED    LOVER 

was  remarkable  for  his  skill  in  drawing  feigned  manners,  &c.  for 
so  I  understand  an  ancient  writer.  "  The  Lord  Vaux  his  com- 
mendation lyeth  chiefly  in  the  facilitie  of  his  meetre,  and  the  apt- 
nesse  of  his  descriptions  such  as  he  taketh  upon  him  to  make, 
namely  in  sundry  of  his  Songs,  wherein  he  showeth  the  coimterfait 
axtion  very  lively  and  pleasantly."  Arte  of  Eng.  Poesie,  1589, 
p.  51.     See  another  Song  by  this  Poet  in  vol.  ii.  No.  viii. 

[Thomas  second  Lord  Vaux,  the  author  of  this  poem,  was  born 
in  the  year  15 10.  He  wrote  several  small  pieces  of  the  same 
character  which  evince  taste  and  feeling,  and  his  contributions  to 
the  Paradise  of  Dainty  Devices  exceed  in  number  those  of  Richard 
Edwards  himself,  whose  name  appears  upon  the  original  title-page 
as  the  chief  author.  Lord  Vaux  was  a  courtier  as  well  as  a  poet, 
and  was  one  of  the  splendid  retinue  which  attended  Wolsey  in  his 
embassy,  in  the  19th  Henry  VIIL,  1527,  to  the  Court  of  France 
to  negotiate  a  peace.  He  took  his  seat  in  the  House  of  Lords  in 
the  22nd  Henry  VIH.,  and  two  years  afterwards,  1532,  waited  on 
the  king  to  Calais  and  thence  to  Boulogne.  He  was  rewarded  with 
the  Order  of  the  Bath  at  the  Coronation  of  Anne  Boleyn,  and  was 
also  appointed  Captain  of  the  Island  of  Jersey,  which  office  he 
surrendered  in  the  28th  Henry  VIIL] 


LOTH  that  I  did  love, 

In  youth  that  I  thought  swete, 

As  time  requires  :  for  my  behove  ^ 
Me  thinkes  they  are  not  mete.^ 

My  lustes  they  do  me  leave,  5 

My  fansies  all  are  fled  ; 
And  tract  of  time  begins  to  weave 

Gray  heares  upon  my  hed. 

For  Age  with  steling  steps, 

Hath  clawde  me  with  his  crowch,^  10 

Ver.  6.  he,  PC.  (printed  copy  in  1557.)     V.  10.  Croivch  perhaps 
should  be  clouch,  clutch,  grasp. 

[^  behoof  2  meet  or  fit.  ^  crutch.] 


RENOUNCETH   LOVE.  i8i 

And  lusty  '  Youthe '  awaye  he  leapes, 
As  there  had  bene  none  such. 

My  muse  doth  not  delight 

Me,  as  she  did  before  : 
My  hand  and  pen  are  not  in  plight,  15 

As  they  have  bene  of  yore. 

For  Reason  me  denies, 

*  All '  youthly  idle  rime  ; 
And  day  by  day  to  me  she  cries, 

Leave  off  these  toyes  in  tyme.  20 

The  wrinkles  in  my  brow, 

The  furrowes  in  my  face 
Say.  Limping  age  will  '  lodge '  him  now. 

Where  youth  must  geve  him  place. 

The  harbenger  of  death,  25 

To  me  I  se  him  ride. 
The  cough,  the  cold,  the  gasping  breath, 

Doth  bid  me  to  provide 

A  pikeax  and  a  spade. 

And  eke  a  shrowding  shete,  30 

A  house  of  clay  for  to  be  made 

For  such  a  guest  most  mete. 

Me  thinkes  I  heare  the  clarke. 

That  knoles  the  carefull  knell ; 
And  bids  me  leave  my  '  wearye  '  warke,  35 

Ere  nature  me  compell. 

My  kepers  *  knit  the  knot, 

Tluit  youth  doth  laugh  to  scorne. 


Ver.  II.  Life  away  she,  PC,     V.  18.   This,  PC.    V.  23.  So  Ed. 
1583  'tis  hed^e  in  Ed.  1557.  hath  cam^hi  him,  MS.     V.  30.  7C'y/id- 
yn^e-sheek,  MS.     V.  34.  bell,  MS.     V.   35.  wofull,  PC.     V.   38. 
did,  PC. 

*  Alluding  perhaps  to  Eccles.  xii.  3. 


i82  JEPHTHAH   JUDGE 

Of  me  that  '  shall  bee  cleane '  forgot, 

As  I  had  '  ne'er  '  bene  borne.  40 

Thus  must  I  youth  geve  up, 

Whose  badge  I  long  did  weare  : 
To  them  I  yeld  the  wanton  cup, 

That  better  may  it  beare. 

Lo  here  the  bared  skull ;  45 

■     By  whose  balde  signe  I  know, 
That  stouping  age  away  shall  pull 
*  What '  youthful  yeres  did  sow. 

For  Beautie  with  her  band. 

These  croked  cares  had  wrought,  50 

And  shipped  me  into  the  land, 

From  whence  I  first  was  brought. 

And  ye  that  bide  behinde. 

Have  ye  none  other  trust : 
As  ye  of  claye  were  cast  by  kinde,      •  55 

So  shall  ye  '  turne '  to  dust. 


III. 
JEPHTHAH  JUDGE  OF  ISRAEL. 

^N  Shakespeare's  Hamlet,  act  ii.  the  hero  of  the  play  takes 
occasion  to  banter  Polonius  with  some  scraps  of  an  old 
Ballad,  which  has  never  appeared  yet  in  any  collection  : 
for  which  reason,  as  it  is  but  short,  it  will  not  perhaps 
be  unacceptable  to  the  reader;  who  will  also  be  diverted  with  the 
pleasant  absurdities  of  the  composition.     It  was  retrieved  from 

Ver.  39.  cle?ie  shal  be,  PC.  V.  40.  not,  PC.  V.  45.  bare-hedde, 
MS.  and  some  PCC.  V.  48.  Which,  PC.  That,  MS.  What  is 
conject.     V.  56.  wast,  PC. 


OF   ISRAEL.  183 

utter  oblivion  by  a  lady,  who  A\TOte  it  down  from  memory  as  she 
had  formerly  heard  it  sung  by  her  father.  I  am  indebted  for  it  to 
the  friendship  of  jMr.  Stcrans. 

It  has  been  said,  that  the  original  Ballad,  in  black-letter,  is 
among  Anthony  a  Wood's  Collections  in  the  Ashmolean  Museum. 
But,  upon  application  lately  made,  the  volume  which  contained  this 
Song  was  missing,  so  that  it  can  only  now  be  given  as  in  the  former 
Edition. 

The  Banter  of  Hamlet  is  as  follows : 

"  Hamld.  '  O  Jeptha,  Judge  of  Israel,'  what  a  treasure  hadst 
thou? 

Polonius.  "What  a  treasure  had  he,  my  Lord  ? 

Ham.  Why,  '  One  faire  daughter,  and  no  more,  the  which 
he  loved  passing  well.' 

Polon.  Still  on  my  daughter. 

Ham.  Am  not  I  i'  th'  right,  old  Jeptha  ? 

Polon.  If  you  call  me  Jeptha,  my  Lord,  I  have  a  daughter, 
that  I  love  passing  well. 

Ham.  Nay,  that  follows  not. 

Polon.  ^^^•lat  follows  then,  my  Lord  ? 

Ham.  Why,  'As  by  lot,  God  wot :'  and  then  you  know,  'It  came 
to  passe,  As  most  like  it  was.'  The  first  row  of  the  pious  chanson 
will  shew  you  more." — Act  ii.  sc.  2. 

[A  more  perfect  copy  of  this  ballad  was  reprinted  by  Evans  in 
his  Collection  of  Old  Ballads  from  a  black-letter  broadside,  and 
is  included  by  Child  in  his  Collection  of  English  and  Scottish 
Balloiis  (vol.  viii.  p.  198). 

The  wording  is  rather  different  in  the  two  versions,  and  Evans's 
has  tAvo  additional  stanzas.  It  does  not  appear  that  anything  is 
left  out  at  line  18  of  Percy's  version,  but  in  place  of  the  stars  at 
line  41  Evans's  copy  reads — 

"  A  sacrifice  to  God  on  high  ; 
INIy  promise  must  be  finished."] 


AVE  you  not  heard  these  many  years  ago 
Jeptha  was  judij^e  of  Israel  ? 
Me  had  one  only  daui^hter  and  no  mo. 
The  which  he  loved  passing  well : 


i84  JEPHTHAH  JUDGE 

And,  as  by  lott,  5 

God  wot, 
It  so  came  to  pass, 
As  Gods  will  was, 
That  ereat  wars  there  should  be. 
And  none  should  be  chosen  chief  but  he.  lo 

And  when  he  was  appointed  judge, 

And  chieftain  of  the  company, 
A  solemn  vow  to  God  he  made  ; 
If  he  returned  with  victory, 

At  his  return  15 

To  burn 
The  first  live  thing, 
He  *  *  *  * 

That  should  meet  with  him  then, 

Off  his  house,  when  he  should  return  agen.       20 

It  came  to  pass,  the  wars  was  oer, 
And  he  returned  with  victory  ; 
His  dear  and  only  daughter  first  of  all 
Came  to  meet  her  father  foremostly  : 

And  all  the  way  a; 

She  did  play 
On  tabret  and  pipe. 
Full  many  a  stripe. 
With  note  so  high, 
For  joy  that  her  father  is  come  so  nigh.  30 

But  when  he  saw  his  daughter  dear 

Coming  on  most  foremostly, 
He  wrung  his  hands,  and  tore  his  hair, 
And  cryed  out  most  piteously  ; 

Oh  !  it's  thou,  said  he,  35 

That  have  brought  me 
Low, 
And  troubled  me  so. 
That  I  know  not  what  to  do. 


OF   ISRAEL.  185 

For  I  have  made  a  vow,  he  sed, 
The  which  must  be  replenished:  40 

****** 

"  What  thou  hast  spoke 
Do  not  revoke  : 
What  thou  hast  said, 

Be  not  aftraid  ;  4S 

Altho'  it  be  I  ; 
Keep  promises  to  God  on  high. 

But,  dear  father,  grant  me  one  request, 

That  I  may  go  to  the  wilderness, 
Three  months  there  with  my  friends  to  stay  ;  50 
There  to  bewail  my  virginity; 
And  let  there  be. 
Said  she, 
Some  two  or  three 

Young  maids  with  me."  55 

So  he  sent  her  away, 
For  to  mourn,  for  to  mourn,  till  her  dying  day. 


IV. 
A  ROBYN  JOLLY  ROBYN. 

N  his  Twelfth  Ni^ht,  Shakespeare  introduces  the  clown 
singing  part  of  the  two  first  stanzas  of  the  following  Song,^ 
which  has  been  recovered  from  an  antient  MS.  of  Dr. 
Harrington's  at  Bath,  preserved  among  the  many  literary 
treasures  transmitted  to  the  ingenious  and  worthy  possessor  by  a 
long  line  of  most  respectable  ancestors.  Of  these  only  a  small  part 
hath  been  printed  in  the  Nugcc  Antiqiice,  3  vols.  i2mo;  a  work 
which  the  publick  impatiently  wishes  to  see  continued. 
The  song  is  thus  given  by  Shakespeare,  act  iv.  sc.  2  : — 

"  Clown.  '  Hey  Robin,  jolly  Robin,     [singing.] 

Tell  me  how  thy  lady  does.' 
Malvolio.  Fool 


i86  A    ROBYN,   JOLLY  ROBYN. 

Clown.  '■  My  lady  is  unkind,  perdy.' 

Malvolio.  Fool 

Clown.  '  Alas,  why  is  she  so  ? ' 

Malvolio.  Fool,  I  say 

Clown.  '  She  loves  another.' — Who  calls,  ha  ?  " 

Dr.  Farmer  has  conjectured  that  the  song  should  begin  thus  : 

"  Hey,  jolly  Robin,  tell  to  me 

How  does  thy  lady  do  ? 
My  lady  is  unkind  perdy — 

Alas,  why  is  she  so  ? " 

But  this  ingenious  emendation  is  now  superseded  by  the  proper 
readings  of  the  old  song  itself,  which  is  here  printed  from  what  ap- 
pears the  most  ancient  of  Dr.  Harrington's  poetical  MSS.and  which 
has,  therefore,  been  marked  No.  I.  (Soil.  p.  68.)  That  volume 
seems  to  have  been  written  in  the  reign  of  King  Henry  VIII.  and, 
as  it  contains  many  of  the  Poems  of  Sir  Thomas  Wyat,  hath  had 
almost  all  the  contents  attributed  to  him  by  marginal  directions 
written  with  an  old  but  later  hand,  and  not  always  rightly,  as,  I 
think,  might  be  made  appear  by  other  good  authorities.  Among 
the  rest  this  song  is  there  attributed  to  Sir  Thomas  Wyat  also ;  but 
the  discerning  reader  will  probably  judge  it  to  belong  to  a  more 
obsolete  writer. 

In  the  old  MS.  to  the  3rd  and  5th  stanzas  is  prefixed  this  title, 
Responce,  and  to  the  4th  and  6th,  Le  Plaintif;  but  in  the  last  in- 
stance so  evidently  wrong,  that  it  was  thought  better  to  omit  these 
titles,  and  to  mark  the  changes  of  the  Dialogue  by  inverted  commas. 
In  other  respects  the  MS.  is  strictly  followed,  except  where  noted 
in  the  margin. — Yet  the  first  stanza  appears  to  be  defective,  and  it 
should  seem  that  a  line  is  wanting,  unless  the  four  first  words  were 
lengthened  in  the  tune. 


ROBYN, 

Joliy  Robyn, 
Tell  me  how  thy  leman^  doeth, 
And  thou  shalt  knowe  of  myn. 

'  My  lady  is  unkynde  perde.'^ 
Alack  !  why  is  she  so  ? 

Ver.  4.  shall,  MS. 


\}  mistress.  ^  verily.] 


A    ROBViV,    JOLLY  ROBYN.       187 

'  She  loveth  an  other  better  than  me  ; 
And  yet  she  will  say  no,' 

I  fynde  no  such  doublenes : 

I  fynde  women  true.  10 

My  lady  loveth  me  dowtles, 

And  will  chano^e  for  no  newe. 

'Thou  art  happy  while  that  doeth  last; 

But  I  say,  as  I  fynde, 
That  women's  love  is  but  a  blast,  15 

And  torneth  with  the  wynde.' 

Suche  folkes  can  take  no  harme  by  love, 

That  can  abide  their  torn.^ 
'  But  I  alas  can  no  way  prove 

In  love  but  lake  and  morn.'  20 

But  if  thou  wilt  avoyde  thy  harme 

Lerne  this  lessen  of  me, 
At  others  fieres  thy  selfe  to  warme, 

And  let  them  warme  with  the. 


V. 

A  SONG  TO  THE  LUTE  IN  MUSICKE. 

A 
HIS  sonncft  (which  is  ascribed  to  Richard  Eihuards*  in 
^■)P  the  Paradise  of  Daintie  Dci'iscs,  fo.  31,  b.)  is  by  Shake- 
'9^  speare  made  the  subject  of  some  pleasant  ridicule  in  his 


<*^  Romeo  andjiiiiet,  act  iv.  sc.  5,  where  he  introduces  Peter 


^. 


puuing  this  question  to  the  musicians. 

"  Peter  .  .  .  why  'Silver  Sound?'  why  '  Musicke  with  her  silver 
sound  ? '  what  say  you,  Simon  Catling  ? 

I .  Afus.  Marry,  sir,  because  silver  hath  a  sweet  sound. 

*  Concerning  him  see  \Vood's  Athcn.  Oxon.  and  Tanner's  Pib- 
lioth.  also  Sir  John  Hawkins's  Hist,  of  Music,  &'C. 

['  turn.] 


i88        A    SONG    TO    THE    LUTE 

Pet.  Pretty  !  what  say  you,  Hugh  Rebecke  ? 

2.  Mt(s.  I  say,  silver  sound,  because  musicians  sound  for  silver. 
Pet.  Pretty  too  !  what  say  you,  James  Sound-post. 

3.  Mus.  Faith,  I  know  not  what  to  say. 

Fef.  ...  I  will  say  for  you :  It  is  '  Musicke  with  her  silver 
sound,'  because  musicians  have  no  gold  for  sounding." 

This  ridicule  is  not  so  much  levelled  at  the  song  itself  (which  for 
the  time  it  was  written  is  not  inelegant)  as  at  those  forced  and  un- 
natural explanations  often  given  by  us  painful  editors  and  expositors 
of  ancient  authors. 

This  copy  is  printed  from  an  old  quarto  MS.  in  the  Cotton 
Library  (Vesp.  A.  25),  intitled,  "  Divers  things  of  Hen.  viij's  time  :" 
with  some  corrections  from  The  Paradise  of  Dainty  Devises,  1596. 

[Richard  Edwards,  one  of  the  chief  contributors  to  the  Paradise 
of  Dainty  Devises,  was  a  facile  and  elegant  poet  much  appreciated 
by  his  contemporaries  but  unjustly  neglected  now.  Meres  in  his 
Wits  Treasmy,  1598,  praises  him,  as  "one  of  the  best  for  comedy," 
and  Puttenham  gives  him  the  same  commendation.  Thomas 
Twyne  and  George  Turberville,  wrote  epitaphs  upon  him,  and  the 
latter  says  in  the  terms  of  unmeasured  eulogy  then  fashionable — 

"  From  Plautus  he  the  palme  and  learned  Terence  won." 

Edwards  was  born  in  Somersetshire  about  1523,  was  educated 
at  Oxford,  and,  in  1561,  was  constituted  by  Queen  Elizabeth  a 
Gentleman  of  the  Royal  Chapel  and  Master  of  the  Singing  Boys 
there.  He  attended  the  Queen  on  her  visit  to  Oxford  in  1566,  and 
was  employed  to  compose  a  play  called  Pala7non  and  Arcite,  which 
was  acted  before  her  Majesty  in  Christ  Church  Hall.] 


-HERE    gripinge    grefes    the    hart   would 
wounde, 
And   dolefulle   dumps  ^   the   mynde  op- 
presse. 
There  musicke  with  her  silver  sound 

With  spede  is  wont  to  send  redresse  : 
Of  trobled  mynds,  in  every  sore,  5         | 

Swete  musicke  hathe  a  salve  in  store. 

[^  sorrowful  gloom.] 


IN   MUSICKE.  189 

In  joye  yt  maks  our  mirthe  abounde, 

In  woe  yt  cheres  our  hevy  sprites  ; 
Be-strawghted^  heads  relyef  hath  founde, 

By  musickes  pleasaunt  swete  deHghtes  :  10 

Our  senses  all,  what  shall  I  say  more  ? 
Are  subjecte  unto  musicks  lore. 

The  Gods  by  muslcke  have  theire  prayse  ; 

The  lyfe,  the  soul  therein  doth  joye : 
For,  as  the  Romayne  poet  sayes,  is 

In  seas,  whom  pyrats  would  destroy, 
A  dolphin  saved  from  death  most  sharpe 
Arion  playing  on  his  harpe. 

O  heavenly  g}'ft,  that  rules  the  mynd. 

Even  as  the  sterne  dothe  rule  the  shippe  !        20 
O  musicke,  whom  the  gods  assinde 

To  comforte  manne,  whom  cares  would  nippe ! 
Since  thow  both  man  and  beste  doest  move, 
What  beste  ys  he,  wyll  the"^  disprove  ? 


VI. 

KING  COPHETUA  AND  THE  BEGGAR- 
MAID 

S  a  story  often  alluded  to  by  our  old  Dramatic  Writers. 
.Shakespeare,  in  his  Romeo  and  Julid,  act  ii.  sc.  i,  makes 
Mercutio  say, 

"  Her  (Venus's)  ])urblind  son  and  heir, 


Young  Adam*  Cupid,  he  that  shot  so  true. 
When  King  Cophetua  loved  the  beggar-maid." 

•  See  above.  Preface  to  Song  I.  IJook  II.  of  this  vol. 

['  distracted.  '■*  what  beast  is  he,  will  thee.] 


I90        KING    COPHETUA    AND 

As  the  13th  line  of  the  following  ballad  seems  here  particularly 

alluded  to,  it  is  not  improbable  but  Shakespeare  wrote  it  shot  so 

trim,  which  the  players  or  printers,  not  perceiving  the  allusion,  might 

-  alter  to  true.    The  former,  as  being  the  more  humorous  expression, 

seems  most  likely  to  have  come  from  the  mouth  of  Mercutio.* 

In  the  2d  Part  of  Hen.  IV.  A.  5,  Sc.  3,  Falstaff  is  introduced 
affectedly  saying  to  Pistoll, 

"  O  base  Assyrian  knight,  what  is  thy  news  ? 
Let  king  Cophetua  know  the  truth  thereof." 

These  lines,  Dr.  Warburton  thinks,  were  taken  from  an  old  bombast 
play  of  King  Cophetua.  No  such  play  is,  I  believe,  now  to  be 
found ;  but  it  does  not  therefore  follow  that  it  never  existed.  Many 
dramatic  pieces  are  referred  to  by  old  writers,!  which  are  not  now 
extant,  or  even  mentioned  in  any  list.  In  the  infancy  of  the  stage, 
plays  were  often  exhibited  that  were  never  printed. 

It  is  probably  in  allusion  to  the  same  play  that  Ben  Jonson  says, 
in  his  Comedy  of  Every  Man  in  his  Humour,  A.  3,  Sc.  4 : 

"  I  have  not  the  heart  to  devour  thee,  an'  I  might  be  made  as 
rich  as  King  Cophetua." 

At  least  there  is  no  mention  of  King  Cophetua's  riches  in  the  pre- 
sent ballad,  which  is  the  oldest  I  have  met  with  on  the  subject. 

It  is  printed  from  Rich.  Johnson's  Crown  Garlatui  of  Goulden 
Roses,  1612,1  i2mo.  (where  it  is  intitled  simply  A  Song  of  a  Beggar 
and  a  King .-)  corrected  by  another  copy. 

[In  the  Collection  of  Old  Ballads,  1723  (vol.  i.  p.  138)  there  is  a 
ballad  on  the  same  subject  as  the  following  popular  one.  It  is  en- 
titled "  Cupid's  Revenge,  or  an  account  of  a  king  who  slighted  all 
women,  and  at  length  was  constrained  to  marry  a  beggar,  who 
proved  a  fair  and  virtuous  queen."] 

*  Since  this  conjecture  first  occurred,  it  has  been  discovered  that 
shot  so  trim  was  the  genuine  reading. 

t  See  Meres  Wits  Trcas.  i.  283  ;  Arte  of  Eng.  Foes.  1589,  p.  51, 
III,  143,  169. 

[J  Reprinted  by  the  Percy  Society  in  the  sixth  volume  of  their 
publications,] 


THE    BEGGAR-MAID.  191 


READ  that  once  in  Affrica 

A  princely  wight  ^  did  raine, 
Who  had  to  name  Cophetua, 
As  poets  they  did  faine: 
From  natures  lawes  he  did  decHne,  5 

For  sure  he  was  not  of  my  mind, 
He  cared  not  for  women-kinde, 

But  did  them  all  disdaine. 
But,  marke,  what  hapned  on  a  day. 
As  he  out  of  his  window  lay,  10 

He  saw  a  beggar  all  in  gray, 
The  which  dkl  cause  his  paine. 

The  blinded  boy,  that  shootes  so  trim,^ 

From  heaven  downe  did  hie  ; 
He  drew  a  dart  and  shot  at  him,  15 

In  place  where  he  did  lye : 
Which  soone  did  pierse  him  to  the  quicke. 
And  when  he  felt  the  arrow  pricke, 
Which  in  his  tender  heart  did  sticke. 

He  looketh  as  he  would  dye.  20 

What  sudden  chance  is  this,  quoth  he. 
That  I  to  love  must  subject  be, 
Which  never  thereto  would  agree. 

But  still  did  it  defie  ? 

Then  from  the  window  he  did  come,  25 

And  laid  him  on  his  bed, 
A  thousand  heapes  of  care  did  runne 

Within  his  troubled  head  : 
For  now  he  meanes  to  crave  her  love, 
And  now  he  seekes  which  way  to  proove         30 
How  he  his  fancie  might  remoove, 

['  man.  ^  exact.] 


192        KING    COPHETUA    AND 

And  not  this  beggar  wed. 
But  Cupid  had  him  so  in  snare, 
That  this  poor  begger  must  prepare 
A  salve  to  cure  him  of  his  care,  35 

Or  els  he  would  be  dead. 

And,  as  he  musing  thus  did  lye. 

He  thought  for  to  devise 
How  he  might  have  her  companye, 

That  so  did  'maze  his  eyes.  40 

In  thee,  quoth  he,  doth  rest  my  life ; 
For  surely  thou  shalt  be  my  wife. 
Or  else  this  hand  with  bloody  knife 

The  Gods  shall  sure  suffice. 
Then  from  his  bed  he  soon  arose,  45 

And  to  his  pallace  gate  he  goes  ; 
Full  little  then  this  begger  knowes 

When  she  the  king  espies. 

The  gods  preserve  your  majesty, 

The  beggers  all  gan  cry  :  50 

Vouchsafe  to  give  your  charity 

Our  childrens  food  to  buy. 
The  king  to  them  his  pursse  did  cast, 
And  they  to  part  it  made  great  haste ; 
This  silly  woman  was  the  last  55 

That  after  them  did  hye. 
The  king  he  cal'd  her  back  againe, 
And  unto  her  he  gave  his  chaine ; 
And  said.  With  us  you  shal  remaine 

Till  such  time  as  we  dye  :  60 

For  thou,  quoth  he,  shalt  be  my  wife. 

And  honoured  for  my  queene  ; 
With  thee  I  meane  to  lead  my  life. 

As  shortly  shall  be  scene  : 
Our  wedding  shall  appointed  be,  65 

And  every  thing  in  its  degree : 
Come  on,  quoth  he,  and  follow  me, 


THE    BEGGAR-MAID.  193 

Thou  shalt  ^o  shift  thee  cleane. 
What  is  thy  name,  faire  maid  ?  quoth  he. 
Penelophon,*  O  king,  quoth  she  :  70 

With  that  she  made  a  lowe  courtsey ; 

A  trim  one  as  I  weene. 

Thus  hand  in  hand  along  they  walke 

Unto  the  king's  pallace  : 
The  king  with  courteous  comly  talke  75 

This  beof^er  doth  imbrace  : 

00 

The  becrcrer  bkisheth  scarlet  red, 
And  straight  againe  as  pale  as  lead, 
But  not  a  word  at  all  she  said, 

She  was  in  such  amaze.  80 

At  last  she  spake  with  trembling  voyce, 
And  said,  O  king,  I  doe  rejoyce 
That  you  wil  take  me  for  your  choyce, 

And  my  degree's  so  base. 

And  when  the  wedding  day  was  come,  85 

The  kinor  commanded  strait 
The  noblemen  both  all  and  some 

Upon  the  queene  to  wait. 
And  she  behaved  herself  that  day, 
As  if  she  had  never  walkt  the  way  ;  90 

She  had  forgot  her  gowne  of  gray, 

Which  she  did  weare  of  late. 
The  proverbe  old  is  come  to  passe, 
The  priest,  when  he  begins  his  masse, 
Forgets  that  ever  clerke  he  was  ;  95 

He  knowth  not  his  estate. 

*  Shakespeare  (who  alludes  to  this  ballad  in  his  Love's  Labour's 
lost,  act  iv.  sc.  I.)  gives  the  beggar's  name  Zenelophon,  according 
to  all  the  old  editions  :  but  this  seems  to  be  a  corruption ;  for  Pene- 
lophon, in  the  text,  sounds  more  like  the  name  of  a  woman. — The 
story  of  the  King  and  the  Beggar  is  also  alluded  to  in  K.  Rich.  H. 
act  V.  sc.  3. 

Ver.  90.  i.e.  tramped  the  streets. 

O 


194  KING    COPHETUA, 

Here  you  may  read,  Cophetua, 

Though  long  time  fancie-fed, 
Compelled  by  the  blinded  boy 

The  begger  for  to  wed  :  loo 

He  that  did  lovers  lookes  disdaine, 
To  do  the  same  was  glad  and  faine, 
Or  else  he  would  himselfe  have  slaine, 

In  storie,  as  we  read. 
Disdaine  no  whit,  O  lady  deere,  105 

But  pitty  now  thy  servant  heere, 
Least  that  it  hap  to  thee  this  yeare. 

As  to  that  king  it  did. 

And  thus  they  led  a  quiet  life 

During  their  princely  raigne  ;  no 

And  in  a  tombe  were  buried  both, 

As  writers  sheweth  plaine. 
The  lords  they  tooke  it  grievously. 
The  ladies  tooke  it  heavily, 
The  commons  cryed  pitiously,  115 

Their  death  to  them  was  paine, 
Their  fame  did  sound  so  passingly, 
That  it  did  pierce  the  starry  sky, 
And  throughout  all  the  world  did  flye 

To  every  princes  realme.*  120 

*  An  ingenious  friend  thinks  the  two  last  stanzas  should  change 
place. 

Ver.  105.  Here  the  poet  addresses  himself  to  his  mistress.     V. 
112.  Sheweth  was  anciently  the  plur.  numb. 


TAKE    THY    OLD    CLOAK.       195 

VII. 
TAKE  THY  OLD  CLOAK  ABOUT  THEE, 

;  S  supposed  to  have  been  originally  a  Scotch  ballad.  The 
reader  here  has  an  ancient  copy  in  the  English  idiom, 
with  an  additional  stanza  (the  2d.)  never  before  printed. 
This  curiosity  is  preserved  in  the  Editor's  folio  MS.  but 
not  without  corruptions,  which  are  here  removed  by  the  assistance 
of  the  Scottish  Edit.  Shakespeare,  in  his  Othello,  act  ii.  has  quoted 
one  stanza,  with  some  variations,  which  are  here  adopted  :  the  old 
MS.  readings  of  that  stanza  are  however  given  in  the  margin. 

[The  Scottish  version  referred  to  above  was  printed  in  Ramsay's 
Tea  Tabic  Miscellany,  and  the  king  mentioned  on  line  49  is  there 
named  Robert  instead  of  Stephen.  He  is  King  Harry  in  the 
folio  MS. 

The  '^  corruptions  "  to  which  Percy  alludes  are  all  noted  at  the 
foot  of  the  page,  and  in  one  instance  at  least  (line  15)  the  MS. 
gives  an  important  new  reading.  Mr.  Hales  thinks  that  the  MS.  ver- 
sion is  the  oldest  form  of  the  ballad,  because  the  definite  mention 
of  the  court  looks  more  original  than  the  use  of  the  general  term 
of  town,  and  he  says,  *'  the  poem  naturally  grew  vaguer  as  it  grew 
generally  popular."* 

Besides  the  reference  to  this  ballad  in  Othello  mentioned  by 
Percy  above,  Mr.  Hales  has  pointed  out  to  me  another  evident 
allusion  in  the  Tempest,  act  iv.  sc.  i,  where  Trinculo  says, 

"  O  King  Stephano,  O  Peere :  O  worthy  Stephano, 
Looke  what  a  wardrobe  here  is  for  thee." 

(Folio  1623,  Booth's  ed.  p.  15,  col.  2.) 

The  cloak  that  had  been  in  wear  for  forty-four  years  was  likely  to 
be  a  sorry  clout  at  the  end  of  that  time,  but  the  clothes  of  all 
classes  were  then  expected  to  last  from  year  to  year  without  renewal. 
Woollen  cloths  were  of  old  the  chief  material  of  male  and  female 
attire.  When  new  the  nap  was  very  long,  and  after  being  worn  for 
some  time,  it  was  customary  to  have  it  shorn,  a  process  which  was 
repeated  as  often  as  the  stuff  would  bear  it.  Thus  we  find  the 
Countess  of  Leicester  (Eleanor  third  daughter  of  King  John,  and 
wife  of  Simon  de  Montfort)  in  1265,  sending  Hicque  the  tailor  to 
London  to  get  her  robes  re-shorn. fj 

f*  Folio  MS.  ed.  Hales  and  Furnivall,  vol.  ii.  p.  320. 

t  Botfield's  Manners  and  Household  Expenses  of  England,  1 84 1 .] 


196      TAKE    THY    OLD    CLOAK 


^^^^^HIS  winters  weather  itt  waxeth  cold, 
And  frost  doth  freese  on  every  hill, 


And  Boreas  blowes  his  blasts  soe  bold. 
That  all  our  cattell  are  like  to  spill  ;^ 
Bell  my  wiffe,  who  loves  noe  strife,  5 

She  sayd  unto  me  quietlye. 
Rise  up,  and  save  cow  Crumbockes  liffe, 
Man,  put  thine  old  cloake  about  thee. 

He. 

0  Bell,  why  dost  thou  flyte"^ '  and  scorne '  ? 
Thou  kenst  my  cloak  is  very  thin  :  10 

Itt  is  soe  bare  and  overworne 

A  cricke^  he  theron  cannot  renn  :^ 

Then  He  noe  longer  borrowe  nor  lend, 
'  For  once  He  new  appareld  bee. 

To-morrow  He  to  towne  and  spend,'  15 

For  He  have  a  new  cloake  about  mee. 

She. 

Cow  Crumbocke  is  a  very  good  cowe, 
Shee  ha  beene  alwayes  true  to  the  payle, 

Shee  has  helpt  us  to  butter  and  cheese,  I  trow, 
And  other  things  shee  will  not  fayle  ;  20 

1  wold  be  loth  to  see  her  pine,^ 

Good  husband,  councell  take  of  mee, 
It  is  not  for  us  to  go  soe  fine, 

Man,  take  thine  old  cloake  about  thee. 

[Ver.  9.  O  Bell  my  wiffe,  why  dost  thou  fiflyte.  V.  10.  itt  is  soe 
sore  over  worne.  V.  14-15.  in  place  of  these  two  the  MS.  has 
"  He  goe  fifind  the  court  within."  V.  22.  Therefore  good  husband 
ffollow  my  councell  now.  V.  23.  Forsake  the  court  and  follow 
the  ploughe. 

'  spoil  or  come  to  harm.         ^  scold.         ^  insect. 
^  run.  ^  starve.] 


ABOUT    THEE.  197 

He. 

JNIy  cloake  it  was  a  verry  good  cloake,  25 

Itt  hath  been  alwayes  true  to  the  weare. 
But  now  it  is  not  worth  a  groat ; 

I  have  had  it  four  and  forty  yeere  : 
Sometime  itt  was  of  cloth  in  graine/ 

"Tis  now  but  a  sigh  clout*^  as  you  may  see,  30 

It  will  neither  hold  out  winde  nor  raine ; 

And  He  have  a  new  cloake  about  mee. 

She. 

It  is  four  and  fortye  yeeres  agoe 

Since  the  one  of  us  the  other  did  ken, 
And  we  have  had  betwixt  us  towe  35 

Of  children  either  nine  or  ten  ; 
Wee  have  brought  them  up  to  women  and  men ; 

In  the  feare  of  God  I  trow  they  bee ; 
And  why  wilt  thou  thyselfe  misken?^ 

Man,  take  thine  old  cloake  about  thee.  4-0 

He. 

O  Bell  my  wiffe,  why  dost  thou  '  floute !' 

Now  is  no  we,  and  then  was  then  : 
Seeke  now  all  the  world  throughout, 

Thou  kenst  not  clownes  from  gentlemen. 
They  are  cladd  in  blacke,  greene,  yellowe,  or  'gray,'  4-s 

Soe  far  above  their  owne  degree : 
Once  in  my  life  He  'doe  as  they,' 

For  He  have  a  new  cloake  about  mee. 


[Vcr.  27.  Itt  hath  cost  mee  many  a  groat.]     V.  ^x.JIytc,  MS. 
[V.  45.  yellow  and  blew.     V.  47.  once  in  my  life  He  take  a  vew. 

'  scarlet.         '^  a  cloth  to  strain  milk  through.         ^  mistake.] 


198       TAKE    THY   OLD    CLOAK. 

She. 

King  Stephen  was  a  worthy  peere, 

His  breeches  cost  him  but  a  crowne,  50 

He  held  them  sixpence  all  too  deere ; 

Therefore  he  calld  the  taylor  Lowne.^ 
He  was  a  wight  of  high  renowne, 

And  thouse^  but  of  a  low  degree  : 
Itt's  pride  that  putts  this  countrye  downe,  55 

Man,  take  thine  old  cloake  about  thee. 

He. 

'  Bell  my  wife  she  loves  not  strife, 

Yet  she  will  lead  me  if  she  can  ; 
And  oft,  to  live  a  quiet  life, 

I  am  forced  to  yield,  though  I  me  good-man  :'      60 
Itt's  not  for  a  man  with  a  woman  to  threape,^ 

Unlesse  he  first  give  oer  the  plea : 
As  wee  began  wee  now  will  leave, 

And  He  take  mine  old  cloake  about  mee. 


Ver.  49.  King  Harry  .  .  a  verry  good  king,  MS.  V.  50.  I 
trow  his  hose  cost  but,  MS.  V.  51.  He  thought  them  i2d.^over 
to  deere,  MS.  V.  52.  clowne,  MS.  V.  53.  He  was  king,  and 
wore  the  crowne,  MS.     [V.  57-60: — 

"  O  Bell  my  wiffe !  why  dost  thou  fiflyte 

now  is  now  and  then  was  then  ; 
wee  will  live  now  obedyent  lyffe 

thou  the  woman  and  I  the  man." 

V.  63.  wee  will  live  nowe  as  wee  began.     V.  64.  He  have. 
^  rascal.  2  ^^q^j  ^rt.  ^  argue.] 


IVIL  L  O  IV,     JVIL  LOW.  1 99 


VIII. 
WILLOW,  WILLOW,  WILLOW. 

tT  is  from  the  following  stanzas  that  Shakespeare  has 
taken  his  song  of  the  IVillow,  in  his  Othello,  act  iv.  sc.  3, 
though  somewhat  varied  and  applied  by  him  to  a  female 
character.     He  makes  Desdemona  introduce  it  in  this 
pathetic  and  afiecting  manner : 

"  My  mother  had  a  maid  call'd  Barbara : 
She  was  in  love ;  and  he,  she  lov'd,  prov'd  mad, 
And  did  forsake  her.    She  had  a  Song  of —  Willow. 
.\n  old  thing  'twas,  but  it  express'd  her  fortune. 
And  she  died  singing  it." 

This  is  given  from  a  black-letter  copy  in  the  Pepys  collection,  thus 
intitled,  A  Lover's  Complaint,  being  forsaken  of  his  Love.  To  a 
pleasant  tune. 

[''  Willow,  willow"  was  a  favourite  burden  for  songs  in  the  six- 
teenth and  seventeenth  centuries,  and  one  of  John  Hey^vood's 
songs  has  the  following— 

"  All  a  grene  wyllow ;  ^vyllow,  wyllow,  ^vyllow, 
All  a  grene  wyllow  is  my  garland.'' 

In  the  Gorgeous  Gallery  of  Gallant  Itivcntions  (1578)  there  is  a 
slightly  different  burden — 

"  Willow,  willow,  willow,  sing  all  of  green  willow. 
Sing  all  of  green  willow,  shall  be  my  garland." 

There  is  another  copy  of  the  following  song  in  the  Roxburghe 
Collection  (i.  54,  55)  printed  m -Roxburghe  Ballads  (ed.  W.  Chap- 
pell,  1869,  Part  I.  p.  171).  Both  these  are  of  the  first  half  of  the 
seventeenth  century,  and  an  earlier  copy  than  either  is  printed  by 
Mr.  Chappell  in  his  Popular  Music  of  the  Olden  Time,  i.  206. 

Dr.  Rimbault'  has  drawn  attention  to  the  following  parody, 
dated  1668— 


[•  Rimbault's  Musical  Illustrations  of  Percy's  Reliqucs,    1850, 
p.  9.] 


200  WILLOW,     WILLOW. 

"  A  poore  soule  sat  sighing  near  a  ginger-bread  stall, 

O  ginger-bread  O,  ginger-bread  O  ! 
With  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  his  head  on  the  wall, 

O  ginger-bread  O,  ginger-bread  O  ! 
You  pye-wifes  of  Smithfield,  what  would  ye  be  at ! 

Who  talks  of  plum-pudding?  here's  better  than  that, 
For  here's  ginger-bread  O,  ginger-bread  O  ! "] 


POORE  soule  sat  sighing  under  a  sicamore 
tree  ; 
O  willow,  willow,  willow  ! 
With  his  hand  on  his  bosom,  his  head  on 
his  knee  : 
O  willow,  willow,  willow ! 

O  willow,  willow,  willow  !  5 

Sing,  O  the  greene  willow  shall  be  my  garland. 

He  sigh'd  in  his  singing,  and  after  each  grone, 

Come  willow,  &c. 
I  am  dead  to  all  pleasure,  my  true-love  is  gone ; 

O  willow,  &c.  10 

Sing,  O  the  greene  willow  shall  be  my  garland. 

My  love  she  is  turned  ;  untrue  she  doth  prove  : 

O  willow,  &c. 
She  renders  me  nothing  but  hate  for  my  love. 

O  willow,  &c.  15 

Sing,  O  the  greene  willow,  &c. 

O  pitty  me,  (cried  he)  ye  lovers,  each  one ; 

O  willow,  &c. 
Her  heart's  hard  as  marble ;  she  rues  not  my  mone. 

O  willow,  &c.  ao 

Sing,  O  the  greene  willow,  &c. 

The  cold  streams  ran  by  him,  his  eyes  wept  apace ; 
O  willow,  &;c. 


WIL  LOU:     IV I L  L  O  TV.  201 

The  salt  tears  fell  from  him,  which  drowned  his  face : 
O  willow,  »S:c.  25 

Sing",  O  the  greene  willow,  Sec. 

The  mute  birds  sate  by  him,  made  tame  by  his  mones  : 

O  willow,  ttc. 
The  salt  tears  fell  from  him,  which  softened  the  stones. 

O  willow,  &c.  30 

Sing-,  O  the  greene  willow  shall  be  my  garland ! 

Let  nobody  blame  me,  her  scornes  I  do  prove ; 

O  willow,  &c. 
She  was  borne  to  be  faire ;  I,  to  die  for  her  love. 

O  willow,  &:c.  35 

Sing,  O  the  greene  willow  shall  be  my  garland. 

0  that  beauty  should  harbour  a  heart  that's  so  hard !  "^ 
Sing  willow,  &c. 

]\Iy  true  love  rejecting  without  all  regard. 

O  willow,  See.  40 

Sing,  O  the  greene  willow,  &c. 

Let  love  no  more  boast  him  in  palace,  or  bower ; 

O  willow,  &c. 
For  women  are  trothles,^  and  flote"^  in  an  houre. 

O  willow,  &c.  45 

Sing,  O  the  greene  willow,  Sec. 

But  what  helps  complaining  ?   In  vaine  I  complaine : 
O  willow,  &c. 

1  must  patiently  suffer  her  scorne  and  disdaine. 

O  willow,  &c.  50 

Sing,  O  the  greene  willow,  &;c. 

Come,  all  you  forsaken,  and  sit  down  by  me, 

O  willow,  &c. 
He  that  'plaincs  of  his  false  love,  mine's  falser  than  she. 

O  willow,  Sic.  55 

Sing,  O  the  greene  willow,  &c. 

['  faithless.  -  change.] 


202  WILLOW,     WILLOW. 

The  willow  wreath  weare  I,  since  my  love  did  fleet ; 

O  willow,  &c. 
A  Garland  for  lovers  forsaken  most  meete. 

O  willow,  &c.  60 

Sing,  O  the  greene  willow  shall  be  my  garland  ! 


Part  the  Second. 

\  OWE  lay'd  by  my  sorrow,  begot  by  disdalne; 
O  willow,  willow,  willow  ! 
Against  her  too  cruell,  still  still  I  complaine, 
O  willow,  willow,  willow ! 
O  willow,  willow,  willow!  5 

Sing,  O  the  greene  willow  shall  be  my  garland ! 

O  love  too  injurious,  to  wound  my  poore  heart ! 

O  willow,  &c. 
To  suffer  the  triumph,  and  joy  in  my  smart : 

O  willow,  &c.  10 

Sing,  O  the  greene  willow,  &c. 

O  willow,  willow,  willow !  the  willow  garland, 

O  willow,  &c. 
A  sign  of  her  falsenesse  before  me  doth  stand  : 

O  willow,  &c.  15 

Sing,  O  the  greene  willow,  &c. 

As  here  it  doth  bid  to  despair  and  to  dye, 

O  willow,  &c. 
So  haf  g  it,  friends,  ore  me  in  grave  where  I  lye  : 

O  wiilow,  &c.  20 

Sing,  O  the  greene  willow  shall  be  my  garland. 

In  grave  where  I  rest  mee,  hang  this  to  the  view 

O  willow,  &c. 
Of  all  that  doe  knowe  her,  to  blaze  her  untrue. 

O  willow,  &c.  25 

Sing,  O  the  greene  willow,  &c. 


WILLOW,     JVILLOW.  203 

With  these  words  engraven,  as  epitaph  meet, 

O  willow,  &c. 
"  Here  lyes  one,  drank  poyson  for  potion  most  sweet." 

O  willow,  &c.  30 

Sing,  O  the  greene  willow,  &c. 

Though  she  thus  unkindly  hath  scorned  my  love, 

O  willow,  &.C. 
And  carelesly  smiles  at  the  sorrowes  I  prove ; 

O  willow,  (jsic.  35 

Sing,  O  the  greene  willow,  &c. 

I  cannot  against  her  unkindly  exclaim, 

O  willow,  &c. 
Cause  once  well  I  loved  her,  and  honoured  her  name  : 

O  willow,  &:c.  4c 

Sing,  O  the  greene  willow,  &;c. 

The  name  of  her  sounded  so  sweete  in  mine  eare, 

O  willow,  &c. 
It  rays'd  my  heart  lightly,  the  name  of  my  deare  ; 

O  willow,  &c.  45 

Sing,  O  the  greene  willow  shall  be  my  garland. 

As  then  'twas  my  comfort,  it  now  is  my  griefe ; 

O  willow,  &c. 
It  now  brings  me  anguish,  then  brought  me  reliefe. 

O  willow,  &c.  50 

Sing,  O  the  greene  willow,  &c. 

Farewell, fairefalsehearted:  plaintsendwithm^  oreath! 

O  willow,  willow,  willow! 
Thou  dost  loath  me,  I  love  thee,  though  cause  of  my 
death. 

O  willow,  willow,  willow!  55 

O  willow,  willow,  willow  ! 
Sing,  O  the  greene  willow  shall  be  my  garland. 


X 


204 


SIR    LANCELOT 


IX. 

SIR  LANCELOT  DU  LAKE. 


HIS  ballad  is  quoted  in  Shakespeare's  second  Part  ot 
Henry  IV.  act  ii.  The  subject  of  it  is  taken  from  the 
ancient  romance  of  K.  Arthur  (commonly  called  Morte 
Arthur)  being  a  poetical  translation  of  ehap.  cviii.  cix. 
ex.  in  Pt.  ist,  as  they  stand  in  ed.  1634,  4to.  In  the  older  editions 
the  chapters  are  differently  numbered. — This  song  is  given  from  a 
printed  copy,  corrected  in  part  by  a  fragment  in  the  Editor's  folio 
MS. 

In  the  same  play  of  2  Hen.  IV.  Silence  hums  a  scrap  of  one  of 
the  old  ballads  of  Robin  Hood.  It  is  taken  from  the  following 
stanza  of  Robin  Hood  and  the  Pindar  of  Wakefield. 

"  All  this  beheard  three  wighty  yeomen, 
Twas  Robin  Hood,  Scarlet,  and  John : 

With  that  they  espy'd  the  jolly  Pindkr 
As  he  sate  under  a  thorne." 

That  ballad  may  be  found  on  every  stall,  and  therefore  is  not 
here  reprinted. 

[This  is  a  rhymed  version  of  some  chapters  in  Malory's  Mort 
d'A7'tht(r  (Book  vi.  of  Caxton's  edition),  said  to  have  been  written 
by  Thomas  Deloney  towards  the  end  of  EUzabeth's  reign.  It  first 
occurs  in  the  Garland  of  Good  Will,  reprinted  by  the  Percy  Society 

(vol.  XXX.) 

The  ballad  appears  to  hav£  been  highly  popular,  and  it  is  quoted 
by  Marston  in  the  Alalcojitent  and  by  Beaumont  and'  Fletcher  in  the 
Little  Fj-ench  Lawyer,  as  well  as  by  Shakspere. 

The  copy  in  the  Percy  MS.  (ed.  Hales  and  Furnivall,  1867, 
vol.  i.  p.  84)  is  imperfect  in  two  places,  and  lines  30  to  60,  73  to  76, 
and  95  to  124  are  not  to  be  found  there,  but  with  these  exceptions 
it  is  much  the  same  as  the  ballad  printed  here.] 


DU   LAKE.  205 


HEN  Arthur  first  in  court  began, 
And  was  approved  king, 
By  force  of  armes  great  victorys  wanne, 
And  conquest  home  did  bring. 

Then  into  England  straight  he  came  s 

With  fifty  good  and  able 
Knights,  that  resorted  unto  him, 

And  were  of  his  round  table  : 

And  he  had  justs  and  turnaments, 

Whereto  were  many  prest,^  10 

Wherin  some  knights  did  farr  excell 

And  eke  surmount  the  rest. 

But  one  Sir  Lancelot  du  Lake, 

Wlio  was  approved  well. 
He  for  his  deeds  and  feats  of  armes,  15 

All  others  did  excell. 

When  he  had  rested  him  a  while,  , 

In  play,  and  game,  and  sportt, 
He  said  he  wold  goe  prove  himselfe 

In  some  adventurous  sort.  20 

He  armed  rode  in  a  forrest  wide. 

And  met  a.damsell  faire'. 
Who  told  him  of  adventures  great, 

Wherto  he  gave  great  eare. 

Such  wold  I  find,  quoth  Lancelott :  25 

For  that  cause  came  I  hither. 
Thou  seemst,  quoth  shee,  a  knight  full  good, 

And  I  will  bring  thee  thither. 


Vcr.  18.  to  sportt,  MS. 
\}  ready.] 


2o6  SIR    LANCELOT 

Wheras  a  mighty  knight  doth  dwell, 

That  now  is  of  great  fame  :  30 

Therfore  tell  me  what  wight  thou  art, 
And  what  may  be  thy  name. 

"  My  name  is  Lancelot  du  Lake." 

Quoth  she,  it  likes  me  than  •} 
Here  dwelles  a  knight  who  never  was  35 

Yet  matcht  with  any  man  : 

Who  has  in  prison  threescore  knights 

And  four,  that  he  did  wound ; 
Knights  of  king  Arthurs  court  they  be, 

And  of  his  table  round.  4.0 

She  brought  him  to  a  river  side. 

And  also  to  a  tree, 
Whereon  a  copper  bason  hung, 

And  many  shields  to  see. 

He  struck  soe  hard,  the  bason  broke ;  45 

And  Tarquin  soon  he  spyed  : 
Who  drove  a  horse  before  him  fast. 

Whereon  a  knight  lay  tyed. 

Sir  knight,  then  sayd  Sir  Lancelott, 

Bring  me  that  horse-load  hither,  50 

And  lay  him  downe,  and  let  him  rest ; 
Weel  try  our  force  together  : 

For,  as  I  understand,  thou  hast, 

Soe  far  as  thou  art  able. 
Done  great  despite  and  shame  unto  55 

The  knights  of  the  Round  Table. 

If  thou  be  of  the  Table  Round, 
Quoth  Tarquin  speedilye, 

Ver.  29.   Where\'=,  often  used  by  our  old  writers  for  whereas:  here 
it  is  just  the  contrary. 

[1  then.] 


DU    LAKE.  207 

Both  thee  and  all  thy  fellowship 

I  utterly  defye.  60 

That's  over  much,  quoth  Lancelott  tho/ 

Defend  thee  by  and  by. 
They  sett  their  speares'"^  unto  their  steeds, 

And  eache  att  other  flie. 

They  coucht  theire  speares,  (their  horses  ran,    65 
As  though  there  had  beene  thunder) 

And  strucke  them  each  immidst  their  shields, 
Wherewith  they  broke  in  sunder. 

Their  horsses  backes  brake  under  them, 

The  knights  were  both  astound  :''  70 

To  avoyd  their  horsses  they  made  haste 
And  light  upon  the  ground. 

They  tooke  them  to  their  shields  full  fast, 

Their  swords  they  drew  out  than, 
With  mighty  strokes  most  eagerlye  7s 

Each  at  the  other  ran. 

They  wounded  were,  and  bled  full  sore, 

They  both  for  breath  did  stand. 
And  leaning  on  their  swords  awhile, 

Quoth  Tarquine,  Hold  thy  hand,  80 

And  tell  to  me  what  I  shall  aske. 

Say  on,  quoth  Lancelot  tho. 
Thou  art,  quoth  Tarquine,  the  best  knight 

That  ever  I  did  know  ; 

And  like  a  knight,  that  I  did  hate  :  85 

Soe  that  thou  be  not  hee, 
I  will  deliver  all  the  rest, 

And  eke  accord  with  thee. 

['  then.  '  spurs?  ^  stunned.] 


2o8  SIR    LANCELOT 

That  is  well  said,  quoth  Lancelott ; 

But  sith  it  must  be  soe,  90 

What  knight  is  that  thou  hatest  thus  ? 

I  pray  thee  to  me  show. 

His  name  is  Lancelot  du  Lake, 

He  slew  my  brother  deere  ; 
Him  I  suspect  of  all  the  rest:  95 

I  would  I  had  him  here. 

Thy  wish  thou  hast,  but  yet  unknowne, 

I  am  Lancelot  du  Lake, 
Now  kniofht  of  Arthurs  Table  Round  ; 


fc. 


Kine  Hauds  son  of  Schuwake 


t> 


100 


And  I  desire  thee  do  thy  worst. 

Ho,  ho,  quoth  Tarquin  tho. 
One  of  us  two  shall  end  our  lives 

Before  that  we  do  go. 

If  thou  be  Lancelot  du  Lake,  105 

Then  welcome  shalt  thou  bee  : 
Wherfore  see  thou  thyself  defend, 

For  now  defye  I  thee. 

They  buckled  then  together  so. 


Like  unto  wild  boares  rashing  ;* 


no 


*  Rashing  seems  to  be  the  old  hunting  term  to  express  the  stroke 
made  by  the  wild  boar  with  his  fangs.  To  ?-ase  has  apparently  a 
meaning  something  similar.  See  Mr.  Steevefis's  Note  on  K.  Lear, 
act  iii.  sc.  7,  (ed.  1793,  vol.  xiv.  p.  193)  where  the  quartos  read, 

"  Nor  thy  fierce  sister 
In  his  anointed  flesh  rash  boarish  fangs." 

So  in  K.  Richard  III.  act  iii.  sc.  2,  (vol.  x.  p.  567,  583.) 

"  He  dreamt 
To  night  the  Boar  had  rased  off  his  helm." 

[Ver.  100.  "  King  Ban's  son  of  Benwick."  Malory.'] 


DU   LAKE.  209 

And  with  their  swords  and  shields  they  ran 
At  one  another  slashing  : 

The  ground  besprinkled  was  with  blood  : 

Tarquin  began  to  yield  ; 
For  he  gave  backe  for  wearinesse,  us 

And  lowe  did  beare  his  shield. 

This  soone  Sir  Lancelot  espyde, 

He  leapt  upon  him  then, 
He  pull'd  him  downe  upon  his  knee, 

And  rushine  off  his  helm. 


t> 


120 


Forthwith  he  strucke  his  necke  in  two, 
And,  when  he  had  soe  done, 

From  prison  threescore  knights  and  four 
Delivered  everye  one. 


X. 

CORYDON'S  FAREWELL  TO  PHILLIS, 

S  an  attempt  to  paint  a  lover's  irresolution,  but  so  poorly 
executed,  that  it  would  not  have  been  admitted  into 
this  collection,  if  it  had  not  been  quoted  in  Shake- 
speare's Twelfth- Night,  act  ii.  sc.  3. — It  is  found  in  a 

little  ancient  miscellany,  intituled,  The  Golden  Garland  of  Princely 

Delights,  i2mo.  bl.  let. 

In  the  same  scene  of  the  Tiuclfth- Night,  Sir  Toby  sings  a  scrap 

of  an  old  ballad,  which  is  preserved  in  the  Pepys  Collection  (vol.  i. 

PP-  ZZi  49*^))  but  as  it  is  not  only  a  poor  dull  performance,  but  also 

very  long,  it  will  be  sufficient  here  to  give  the  first  stanza : 

The  Ballad  of"  Constant  Susanna. 

There  dwelt  a  man  in  Babylon 

Of  reputation  great  by  fome ; 
He  took  to  wife  a  faire  womiin, 

Susanna  she  was  callde  by  name : 
P 


2IO        CORYDON'S    FAREWELL 

A  woman  fair  and  vertuous ; 

Lady,  lady : 
Why  should  we  not  of  her  learn  thus 

To  live  godly  ? 

If  this  song  of  Corydon,  &c.  has  not  more  merit,  it  is  at  least  an 
evil  of  less  magnitude. 

[Dr.  Rimbault  refers  to  an  earlier  copy  of  this  song  in  a  rare 
musical  volume  entitled  The  First  Booke  of  Ayres,  composed  by  Robert 
Jones,  1 60 1,  where  it  is  accompanied  by  the  original  music  for 
four  voices.  This  tune  appears  to  have  been  a  very  popular  one, 
and  several  Scottish  songs  are  to  be  sung  to  the  "  toon  of  sal  I  let 
her  go."  The  air  is  also  to  be  found  in  a  Dutch  collection  of 
Songs  published  at  Haarlem  in  1626. 

In  Brome's  comedy  of  The  Jovial  Crciv,  acted  in  1641  at  the 
Cockpit  in  Drury  Lane,  there  is  an  allusion  perhaps  to  this  song : 

"  Let  her  go,  let  her  go, 

I  care  not  if  I  have  her,  I  have  her  or  no."] 


JAREWELL,  dear   love;    since  thou  wilt 
needs  be  gone. 
Mine  eyes  do  shew,  my  life  is  almost  done. 
Nay  I  will  never  die,  so  long  as  I  can  spie 
There  be  many  mo,  though  that  she  doe  goe, 
There  be  many  mo,  I  fear  not :  5 

Why  then  let  her  goe,  I  care  not. 

Farewell,  farewell ;  since  this  I  find  is  true, 
I  will  not  spend  more  time  in  wooing  you  : 

But  I  will  seek  elsewhere,  if  I  may  find  love  there : 
Shall  I  bid  her  goe  ?  what  and  if  I  doe  }  10 

Shall  I  bid  her  goe  and  spare  not  ? 
O  no,  no,  no,  I  dare  not. 

Ten  thousand  times  farewell ; — yet  stay  a  while  : — 
Sweet,  kiss  me  once  ;  sweet  kisses  time  beguile  :     14. 


TO    P HILL  IS.  211 

I  have  no  power  to  move.    How  now  am  I  in  love  ? 
Wilt  thou  needs  be  gone  ?     Go  then,  all  is  one. 

Wilt  thou  needs  be  gone  ?     Oh,  hie  thee ! 

Nay  stay,  and  do  no  more  deny  me. 

Once  more  adieu,  I  see  loath  to  depart 
Bids  oft  adieu  to  her,  that  holds  my  heart.  20 

But  seeing  I  must  lose  thy  love,  which  I  did  choose, 
Goe  thy  way  for  me,  since  that  may  not  be. 
Goe  thy  ways  for  me.      But  whither  ? 
Goe,  oh,  but  where  I  may  come  thither. 

What  shall  I  doe  ?  my  love  is  now  departed.  25 

She  is  as  fair,  as  she  is  cruel-hearted. 

She  would  not  be  intreated,  with  prayers  oft  re- 
peated, 
If  she  come  no  more,  shall  I  die  therefore  ? 
If  she  come  no  more,  what  care  I  .'* 
Faith,  let  her  goe,  or  come,  or  tarry.  30 


XI. 

GERNUTUS  THE  JEW  OF  VENICE. 

;N  the  "Z//^  of  Pope  Sixtus  V.  translated  from  the  Italian 
of  Greg.  Leti,  by  the  Rev.  Mr.  Fameworth,  folio,"  is  a 
remarkable  passage  to  the  following  effect : 
"It  was  reported  in  Rome,  that  Drake  had  taken  and 
plundered  St.  Domingo  in  Hispaniola,  and  carried  off  an  immense 
booty.  This  account  came  in  a  private  letter  to  Paul  Secchi,  a  very 
considerable  merchant  in  the  city,  who  had  large  concerns  in  those 
parts,  which  he  had  insured.  Upon  receiving  this  news,  he  sent 
for  the  insurer  Sampson  Ceneda,  a  Jew,  and  acquainted  him  with 
it.  The  Jew,  whose  interest  it  was  to  have  such  a  report  thought 
false,  gave  many  reasons  why  it  could  not  j)Ossibly  be  true,  and  at 
last  worked  himself  into  such  a  passion,  that  he  said,  I'll  lay  you  a 
pound  of  flesh  it  is  a  lye.     Secchi,  who  was  of  a  fiery  hot  temper, 


212  GERNUTUS    THE 

replied,  I'll  lay  you  a  thousand  crowns  against  a  pound  of  your 
flesh  that  it  is  true.  The  Jew  accepted  the  wager,  and  articles 
were  immediately  executed  betwixt  them,  That,  if  Secchi  won,  he 
should  himself  cut  the  flesh  with  a  sharp  knife  from  whatever  part 
of  the  Jew's  body  he  pleased.  The  truth  of  the  account  was  soon 
confirmed ;  and  the  Jew  was  almost  distracted,  when  he  was 
informed,  that  Secchi  had  solemnly  swore  he  would  compel  him 
to  an  exact  performance  of  his  contract.  A  report  of  this  trans- 
action was  brought  to  the  Pope,  who  sent  for  the  parties,  and, 
being  informed  of  the  whole  affair,  said,  When  contracts  are  made, 
it  is  but  just  they  should  be  fulfilled,  as  this  shall :  Take  a  knife, 
therefore,  Secchi,  aftd  cut  a  pound  of  flesh  from  any  part  you  please 
of  the  Jew's  body.  We  advise  you,  however,  to  be  very  careful ; 
for,  if  you  cut  but  a  scruple  more  or  less  than  your  due,  you  shall 
•certainly  be  hanged." 

The  editor  of  that  book  is  of  opinion  that  the  scene  between 
Shylock  and  Antonio  in  the  Maxhant  of  Venice  is  taken  from  this 
incident.  But  Mr.  Warton,  in  his  ingenious  ObservatioJis  on  the 
Faerie  Queen,  vol.  i.  p.  128,  has  referred  it  to  the  following  ballad. 
Mr.  Warton  thinks  this  ballad  was  written  before  Shakespeare's 
play,  as  being  not  so  circumstantial,  and  having  more  of  the  naked- 
ness of  an  original.  Besides,  it  differs  from  the  play  in  many 
circumstances,  which  a  meer  copyist,  such  as  we  may  suppose  the 
ballad-maker  to  be,  would  hardly  have  given  himself  the  trouble  to 
alter.  Indeed  he  expressly  informs  us  that  he  had  his  story  from 
the  Italian  writers.     See  the  Connoissmr,  vol.  i.  No.  16. 

After  all,  one  would  be  glad  to  know  what  authority  Leti  had  for 
the  foregoing  fact,  or  at  least  for  connecting  it  with  the  taking  of 
St.  Domingo  by  Drake ;  for  this  expedition  did  not  happen  till  1585, 
and  it  is  very  certain  that  a  play  of  the  Jewe,  "  representing  the 
greedinesse  of  worldly  chusers,  and  bloody  minds  of  usurers,"  had 
been  exhibited  at  the  play-house  called  the  Bull  before  the  year 
1579,  being  mentioned  in  Steph.  Gosson's  Schoole  of  Abuse*  which 
was  printed  in  that  year. 

As  for  Shakespeare's  Moxhant  of  Venice,  the  earliest  edition 
known  of  it  is  in  quarto  1600 ;  though  it  had  been  exhibited  in  the 
year  1598,  being  mentioned,  together  with  eleven  others  of  his 
plays,  in  Meres's  Wits  Treasury,  &c.  1598,  i2mo.  fol.  282. 

Since  the  first  edition  of  this  book  was  printed,  the  editor  hath 
had  reason  to  believe  that  both  Shakespeai-e  and  the  author  of 
this  ballad  are  indebted  for  their  story  of  the  Jew  (however  they 
came  by  it)  to  an  Italian  novel,  which  was  first  printed  at  Milan  in 
the  year  1558,  in  a  book  intitled,  //  Pecorone,  nel  quale  si  conten- 
gono  Cinqua7ita  Novelle  antiche,  &^c.  republished  at  Florence  about 

*  Warton,  ubi  supra. 


yElV    OF    VENICE.  21 


J 


the  year  174S,  or  g.*  The  author  was  Ser.  Gicn'anni  Fioraitino, 
who  wTote  in  1378;  thirty  years  after  the  time  in  which  the  scene 
of  Boccace's  Decameron  is  laid.  (Vid.  Manni,  Istoria  del  Deca- 
merone  di  Gicn'.  Boccac.  4to.  Fior.  1744.) 

That  Shakespeare  had  his  plot  from  the  novel  itself,  is  evident 
from  his  having  some  incidents  from  it,  which  are  not  found  in  the 
ballad  :  and  I  think  it  will  also  be  found  that  he  borrowed  from 
the  ballad  some  hints  that  were  not  suggested  by  the  novel.  (See 
pt.  ii.  ver.  25,  &c.  where,  instead  of  that  spirited  description 
of  the  7C'/ietfed  blade,  &c.  the  prose  narrative  coldly  says,  "  The 
Jew  had  prepared  a  razor,  &c.''  See  also  some  other  passages  in 
the  same  piece.)  This  however  is  spoken  with  diffidence,  as  I  have 
at  present  before  me  only  the  abridgement  of  the  novel  which 
Mr.  Johnson  has  given  us  at  the  end  of  his  Commentary  on  Shake- 
speare's Play.  The  translation  of  the  Italian  story  at  large  is  not 
easy  to  be  met  with,  having  I  believe  never  been  published,  though 
it  was  printed  some  years  ago  \\ith  this  title, — "  Tfie  Novel,  from 
which  the  Merchant  of  Venice  \\Titten  by  Shakespeare  is  taken, 
translated  from  the  Italian.  To  which  is  added  a  translation  of  a 
novel  from  the  Dccamerone  of  Boccaccio.  London,  Printed  for 
M.  Cooper,  1755,  8vo." 

The  followng  is  printed  from  an  ancient  black-letter  copy  in  the 
Pepys  collection,!  intitled,  "^  Neiu  Song,  shcAving  the  crueltie  of 
Gernutus,  dijeioe,  whq,  lending  to  a  merchant  an  hundred  cro\vns, 
would  have  a  pound  of  his  fleshe,  because  he  could  not  pay  him 
at  the  time  appointed.     To  the  tune  of  Black  and  Yellow." 

[This  is  the  first  of  four  ballads  printed  by  Percy  as  probable 
sources  for  the  plots  of  four  of  Shakspere's  plays,  but  as  we  are 
unable  to  fix  any  satisfactory  date  for  the  first  appearance  of  the 
ballads,  it  is  well-nigh  impossible  to  settle  their  claim  to  such  dis- 
tinction. 

The  stor}'  of  the  Jew  who  bargained  for  a  pound  of  a  Christian's 
flesh  in  payment  of  his  debt  is  so  widely  spread,  that  there  is  no 
necessity  for  us  to  believe  that  Shakspere  used  this  rather  poor 
ballad,  more  especially  as  it  is  probable  from  the  extract  from 
Gosson  mentioned  above  that  Shakspere  found  the  two  plots  of 
the  bond  and  the  caskets  already  joined  together.  There  is,  how- 
ever, something  in  Percy's  note  about  the  whetting  of  the  knife  in 
verses  25-26,  and  it  would  be  quite  in  accordance  with  the  j^oet's 
constant  practice  for  him  to  take  this  one  point  from  the  ballad  of 
Gernutus.  The  ballad  was  probably  versified  from  one  of  the 
many  stories  extant,  because,  even  if  it  be  later  than  Shakspere's 

[•  This  book  has  been  frequently  reprinted.] 
t  Compared  with  the  Ashmole  Copy. 


214 


GERNUTUS    THE 


play,  it  is  impossible  to  believe  that  the  ballad-uTiter  could  have 
■written  so  bald  a  narration  had  he  had  the  Merchant  of  Venice 
before  him. 

Some  forms  of  the  story  are  to  be  found  in  Persian,  and  there  is 
no  doubt  that  the  original  tale  is  of  Eastern  origin.  The  oldest 
European  forms  are  in  the  English  Cursor  Micndi  and  Gesta 
Romanorum,  and  the  French  romance  of  Dolopathos.  See  Miss 
Toulmin  Smith's  paper  "  On  the  Bond-story  in  the  Merchant  of 
Venice"  "Transactions  of  the  New  Shakspere  Society,"  1875-6 
p.  181.  Professor  Child  prints  a  ballad  entitled  The  Northern 
Lord  and  Criieijctv  {English  and  Scottish  Ballads,  vol.  viii.  p.  270), 
which  contains  the  same  incident  of  the  "  bloody  minded  Jew." 

Leti's  character  as  an  historian  stands  so  low  that  his  story  may 
safely  be  dismissed  as  a  fabrication.] 


The  First  Part. 

N  Venice  towne  not  long  agoe 

A  cruel  Jew  did  dwell, 
Which  lived  all  on  usurie, 
As  Italian  writers  tell. 

Gernutus  called  was  the  Jew, 
Which  never  thought  to  dye, 

Nor  ever  yet  did  any  good 
To  them  in  streets  that  lie. 

His  life  was  like  a  barrow  hogge,^ 
That  liveth  many  a  day, 

Yet  never  once  doth  any  good. 
Until  men  will  him  slay. 

Or  like  a  filthy  heap  of  dung. 
That  lyeth  in  a  whoard  ;  ^ 

Which  never  can  do  any  good, 
Till  it  be  spread  abroad. 

So  fares  it  with  the  usurer. 
He  cannot  sleep  in  rest. 


10 


15 


\}  a  castrated  hog. 


2  hoard  or  heap.  ] 


JEJV    OF    VENICE.  215 

For  feare  the  thiefe  will  him  pursue 

To  plucke  him  from  his  nest.  20 

His  heart  doth  thinke  on  many  a  wile, 

How  to  deceive  the  poore  ; 
His  mouth  is  almost  ful  of  mucke, 

Yet  still  he  gapes  for  more. 

His  wife  must  lend  a  shilling,  25 

For  every  weeke  a  penny. 
Yet  bring  a  pledge,  that  is  double  worth. 

If  that  you  will  have  any. 

And  see,  likewise,  you  keepe  your  day. 

Or  else  you  loose  it  all  :  30 

This  was  the  livinof  of  the  wife, 
Her  cow  she  did  it  call. 

Within  that  citie  dwelt  that  time 

A  marchant  of  great  fame, 
Which  being  distressed  in  his  need,  35 

Unto  Gernutus  came : 

Desiring  him  to  stand  his  friend 

For  twelve  month  and  a  day, 
To  lend  to  him  an  hundred  crownes  : 

And  he  for  it  would  pay  4.0 

Whatsoever  he  would  demand,  of  him. 

And  pledges  he  should  have. 
No,  (quoth  the  Jew  with  flcaring^  lookes) 

Sir,  aske  what  you  will  have. 

Ver.  32.  Her  Cow,  &c.  seems  to  have  suggested  to  Shakespeare 
Shylock's  argument  for  usury  taken  from  Jacob's  management  of 
Laban's  sheep,  act  i.  to  which  Antofiio  rci)Hcs, 

"Was  this  inserted  to  make  interest  good? 
Or  are  your  gold  and  silver  E^ves  and  rams  ? 
Shy.  I  cannot  tell,  I  make  it  breed^as  fast." 

['  sneering.] 

/ 


2i6  GERNUTUS    THE  . 

No  penny  for  the  loane  of  it  45 

For  one  year  you  shall  pay  ; 
You  may  doe  me  as  good  a  turne,  \ 

Before  my  dying  day. 

But  we  will  have  a  merry  jeast, 

For  to  be  talked  long  :  50 

You  shall  make  me  a  bond,  quoth  he, 
That  shall  be  large  and  strong  : 

And  this  shall  be  the  forfeyture ; 

Of  your  owne  fleshe  a  pound. 
If  you  agree,  make  you  the  bond,  55 

And  here  is  a  hundred  crownes. 

With  right  good  will !    the  marchant  says: 

And  so  the  bond  was  made. 
When  twelve  month  and  a  day  drew  on 

That  backe  it  should  be  payd,  60 

The  marchants  ships  were  all  at  sea. 

And  money  came  not  in  ; 
Which  way  to  take,  or  what  to  doe 

To  thinke  he  doth  beein  : 


'& 


And  to  Gernutus  strait  he  comes  65 

With  cap  and  bended  knee, 
And  sayde  to  him,  Of  curtesie 

I  pray  you  beare  with  mee. 

My  day  is  come,  and  I  have  not 

The  money  for  to  pay  :  70 

And  little  good  the  forfeyture 

Will  doe  you,  I  dare  say. 

With  all  my  heart,  Gernutus  sayd, 

Commaund  it  to  your  minde  : 
In  thinges  of  bigger  waight  then  this  75 

You  shall  me  ready  finde. 


yEW    OF    VENICE.  217 

He  goes  his  way  ;  the  day  once  past 

Gernutus  doth  not  slacke 
To  get  a  sergiant  presently  ; 

And  clapt  him  on  the  backe  :  80 

And  layd  him  into  prison  strong, 

And  sued  his  bond  withall ; 
And  when  the  judgement  day  was  come. 

For  judgement  he  did  call. 

The  marchants  friends  came  thither  fast,      85 

With  many  a  weeping  eye. 
For  other  means  they  could  not  find, 

But  he  that  day  must  dye. 


The  Second  Part. 

"  Of  the  Jews  crueltie  ;   setting  foorth  the  mercifulnesse  of  the 
Judge  towards  the  Marchant.     To  the  tune  of  Blacke  atid   Yel- 

OME  offered  for  his  hundred  crownes 
Five  hundred  for  to  pay  ; 
And  some  a  thousand,  two  or  three, 
Yet  still  he  did  denay.^ 

And  at  the  last  ten  thousand  crownes  s 

They  offered,  him  to  save, 
Gernutus  sayd,  I  will  no  gold  : 

My  forfeite  I  will  have. 

A  pound  of  fleshe  is  my  demand, 

And  that  shall  be  my  hire.  10 

Then  sayd  the  judge,  Yet,  good  my  friend, 

Let  me  of  you  desire 

[1  refuse.] 


2i8  GERNUTUS    THE 

To  take  the  flesh  from  such  a  place, 

As  yet  you  let  him  live  : 
Do  so,  and  lo  !  an  hundred  crownes  15 

To  thee  here  will  I  give. 

No  :  no  :  quoth  he  ;  no  :  judgment  here  : 

For  this  it  shall  be  tride, 
For  I  will  have  my  pound  of  fleshe 

From  under  his  right  side.  ao 

It  grieved  all  the  companie 

His  cruel  tie  to  see, 
For  neither  friend  nor  foe  could  helpe 

But  he  must  spoyled  bee. 

The  bloudie  Jew  now  ready  is  as 

With  whetted  blade  in  hand,* 
To  spoyle  the  bloud  of  innocent, 

By  forfeit  of  his  bond. 

And  as  he  was  about  to  strike 

In  him  the  deadly  blow  :  30 

Stay  (quoth  the  judge)  thy  crueltie ; 

I  charge  thee  to  do  so. 

Sith  needs  thou  wilt  thy  forfeit  have  ; 
Which  is  of  flesh  a  pound  : 
/  See  that  thou  shed  no  drop  of  bloud,  35 

(        Nor  yet  the  man  confound.'^ 

For  if  thou  doe,  like  murderer. 

Thou  here  shalt  hanged  be  : 
Likewise  of  flesh  see  that  thou  cut 

No  more  than  longes^  to  thee  :  40 


*  The  passage  in  Shakespeare  bears  so  strong  a  resemblance  to 
this,  as  to  render  it  probable  that  the  one  suggested  the  other. 
See  act  iv.  sc.  2. 

"  Bass.  Why  doest  thou  whet  thy  knife  so  earnestly  ?  "  &c. 
\}  destroy.  ^  belongs.] 


yEW   OF    VENICE.  219 

For  if  thou  take  either  more  or  lesse 

To  the  vakie  of  a  mite, 
Thou  shak  be  hanged  presently, 

As  is  both  law  and  right. 

Gernutus  now  waxt  franticke  mad,  45 

And  wotes^  not  what  to  say  ; 
Quoth  he  at  last,  Ten  thousand  crownes, 

I  will  that  he  shall  pay ; 

And  so  I  graunt  to  set  him  free. 

The  judge  doth  answere  make  ;  50 

You  shall  not  have  a  penny  given  ; 

Your  forfeyture  now  take. 

At  the  last  he  doth  demaund 

But  for  to  have  his  owne. 
No,  quoth  the  judge,  doe  as  you  list,  55 

Thy  judgement  shall  be  showne. 

Either  take  your  pound  of  flesh,  quoth  he. 

Or  cancell  me  your  bond. 
O  cruell  judge,  then  quoth  the  Jew, 

That  doth  ao^ainst  me  stand  !  60 

And  so  with  griping  grieved  mind 

He  biddeth  them  fare-well. 
'  Then '  all  the  people  prays'd  the  Lord, 

That  ever  this  heard  tell. 

Good  people,  that  doe  heare  this  song,  65 

For  trueth  I  dare  well  say. 
That  many  a  wretch  as  ill  as  hee 

Doth  live  now  at  this  day  ; 

That  seckcth  nothing  but  the  spoyle 

Of  many  a  wealthey  man,  70 

Ver.  6 1 .  griped,  Ashmol.  copy. 
[^  knows.] 


220         GERNUTUS    THE    JEW. 

And  for  to  trap  the  innocent 
Deviseth  what  they  can. 

From  whome  the  Lord  deliver  me, 
And  every  Christian  too, 

And  send  to  them  Hke  sentence  eke 
That  meaneth  so  to  do. 


75 


XII. 

THE   PASSIONATE   SHEPHERD   TO    HIS 

LOVE. 


HIS  beautiful  sonnet  is  quoted  in  the  Merry  Wives  of 
^Windsor,  act  iii.  sc.  i,  and  hath  been  usually  ascribed 
(together  with  the  Reply)  to  Shakespeare  himself  by  the 
modern  editors  of  his  smaller  poems.  A  copy  of  this 
madrigal,  containing  only  four  stanzas  (the  4th  and  6th  being 
wanting),  accompanied  with  the  first  stanza  of  the  answer,  being 
printed  in  "  The  Fasstotmte  Pi/grime,  and  Sonnets  to  stmdry  fiotes  of 
Musicke,  by  Mr.  William  Shakespeare,  Lond.  printed  for  W.Jaggard, 
1599."  Thus  was  this  sonnet,  &c.  published  as  Shakespeare's  in 
his  life-time. 

And  yet  there  is  good  reason  to  believe  that  (not  Shakespeare, 
but)  Christopher  Marloiv  wrote  the  song,  and  Sir  Walter  Raleigh 
the  Nytnph's  Reply:  For  so  we  are  positively  assured  by  Isaac 
Walton,  a  writer  of  some  credit,  who  has  inserted  them  both  in  his 
Compleat  Angler  *  under  the  character  of  "  that  smooth  song,  which 
was  made  by  Kit.  Marlow,  now  at  least  fifty  years  ago ;  and  .... 
an  Answer  to  it,  which  was  made  by  Sir  Walter  Raleigh  in  his 
younger  days  ....  Old-fashioned  poetry,  but  choicely  good." — 
It  also  passed  for  Marlow's  in  the  opinion  of  his  contemporaries ; 
for  in  the  old  poetical  miscellany,  intitled  England's  Helicon,  it  is 
printed  with  the  name  of  Chr.  Marlow  subjoined  to  it;  and  the 
Reply  is  subscribed  Ignoto,  which  is  known  to  have  been  a  signa- 
ture of  Sir  Walter  Raleigh.  With  the  same  signature  Ignoto,  in  that 
collection,  is  an  imitation  of  Marlow's  beginning  thus  : 

*  First  printed  in  the  year  1653,  but  probably  written  some  time 
before. 


THE  PASSIONATE  SHEPHERD.     221 

"  Come  live  with  me,  and  be  my  dear, 
And  we  will  revel  all  the  year, 
In  plains  and, groves,  &c." 

Upon  the  whole  I  am  inclined  to  attribute  them  to  Marloiv,  and 
Raleigh ;  notwithstanding  the  authority  of  Shakespeare's  Book  of 
Sonnets.  For  it  is  well  known  that  as  he  took  no  care  of  his  owni 
compositions,  so  was  he  utterly  regardless  what  spurious  things 
were  fathered  upon  him.  'Sax  John  0/dcast/e,  The  London  Prodigal, 
and  The  Yorkshire  Tragedy,  were  printed  with  his  name  at  full 
length  in  the  title-pages,  while  he  was  living,  which  yet  were  after- 
wards rejected  by  his  first  editors  Heminge  and  Condell,  who  were 
his  intimate  friends  (as  he  mentions  both  in  his  will),  and  therefore 
no  doubt  had  good  authority  for  setting  them  aside.* 

The  following  sonnet  appears  to  have  been  (as  it  deserved)  a 
groat  favourite  with  our  earlier  poets :  for,  besides  the  imitation 
above-mentioned,  another  is  to  be  found  among  Donne  $  Poems, 
intitled  The  Bait,  beginning  thus  : 

"  Come  live  with  me,  and  be  my  love, 
And  we  will  some  new  pleasures  prove 
Of  golden  sands,  &c." 

As  for  Chr.  Marhm.',  who  was  in  high  repute  for  his  dramatic 
\\Titings,  he  lost  his  life  by  a  stab  received  in  a  brothel,  before  the 
year  1593.     See  A.  Wood,  i.  138. 

[These  exquisite  poems  by  Christopher  Marlowe  and  Sir  Walter 
Raleigh  at  once  became  popular  favourites,  and  were  often  re- 
printed. The  earliest  appearance  of  the  first  was  in  Marlowe's 
Je'cu  of  Malta.  An  imperfect  copy  was  printed  by  W.  Jaggard  with 
the  Passionate  Pilgrim  in  1599,  and  the  first  stanza  of  the  Reply 
was  then  added  to  it.  In  the  following  year  both  poems  were 
correctly  printed  in  England's  Helieon,  the  first  being  signed  "  Chr. 
Marlow"  and  the  second  "  Ignoto."  When  Walton  introduced  the 
poems  into  his  Angler  he  attributed  the  Reply  to  Raleigh,  and 
printed  an  additional  stanza  to  each  as  follows  : — 

Passionate  Shepherd  (after  verse  20). 

"  Thy  silver  dishes  for  thy  meat 
As  precious  as  the  gods  do  eat 
Shall  on  an  ivory  table  be 
Prepared  each  day  for  thee  and  me." 


♦  Since  the  above  was  ^vritten,  Mr.  Malone,  with  his  usual  dis- 
cernment, hath  rejected  the  stanzas  in  (jueslion  from  the  other 
sonnets,  iVc.  of  Shakespeare,  in  his  correct  edition  of  the  Passionate 
Pilgrim,  &c.     See  his  Shakesp.  vol.  x.  p.  340. 


222 


THE    PASSIONATE 


NympHs  Reply  {after  verse  20). 

"  What  should  we  talk  of  dainties  then 
Of  better  meat  than's  fit  for  men  ? 
These  are  but  vain,  that's  only  good 
Which  God  hath  blest  and  sent  for  food." 

In  the  Roxburghe  Collection  of  Ballads  (i.  205)  is  a  street  ballad 
in  which  these  two  songs  are  united  and  entitled  A  most  excelk^it ditty 
of  the  Lover's  promises  to  his  beloved,  with  the  Lady' s  prudent  answer 
to  her  Love.  The  verses  referred  to  above  as  added  by  Walton  are 
here  printed,  but  they  take  the  place  of  verses  17  to  20  of  each 
song  respectively. 

Mr.  Chappell  and  Dr.  Rimbault  have  both  drawn  attention  to 
the  proofs  of  the  popularity  of  Marlowe's  song  to  be  found  in  out 
V  of  the  way  places.  In  Choice^  Chance^  and  Chafige,  or  Conceits  in  their 
Colours  (1606),  Tidero  being  invited  to  live  with  his  friend,  replies, 
"Why,  how  now?  do  you  take  me  for  a  woman,  that  you  come 
upon  me  with  a  ballad  of  Come  live  with  me  and  be  my  love  V  In 
The  World's  Folly,  1609,  there  is  the  following  passage  :  "  But 
there  sat  he,  hanging  his  head,  lifting  up  the  eyes,  and  with  a 
deep  sigh  singing  the  ballad  of  Co7ne  live  with  me  and  be  my  love, 
to  the  tune  of  Adew  my  deere."  Nicholas  Breton  refers  to  it  in  1637 
as  "  the  old  song,"  but  Walton  considered  it  fresh  enough  to  insert 
in  his  Angler  in  1653,  although  Marlowe  had  then  been  dead  sixty 
years.] 


OME  live  with  me,  and  be  my  love, 
And  we  wil  all  the  pleasures  prove 
That  hils  and  vallies,  dale  and  field, 
And  all  the  craggy  mountains  yield. 

There  will  we  sit  upon  the  rocks. 
And  see  the  shepherds  feed  their  flocks, 
By  shallow  rivers,  to  whose  falls 
Melodious  birds  sing  madrigals. 

There  will  I  make  thee  beds  of  roses 
With  a  thousand  fragrant  posies, 
A  cap  of  flowers,  and  a  kirtle 
Imbrodered  all  with  leaves  of  mirtle  ; 


10 


SHEPHERD    TO    HIS    LOVE.      223 

A  eown  made  of  the  finest  wool, 
Which  from  our  pretty  lambs  we  pull  ; 
Slippers  lin'd  choicely  for  the  cold  ;  15 

With  buckles  of  the  purest  gold  ; 

A  belt  of  straw,  and  ivie  buds, 

With  coral  clasps,  and  amber  studs  : 

And  if  these  pleasures  may  thee  move, 

Then  live  with  me,  and  be  my  love.  20 

The  shepherd  swains  shall  dance  and  sing 
For  thy  delight  each  May  morning : 
If  these  delights  thy  mind  may  move, 
Then  live  with  me,  and  be  my  love. 


The  Nymph's  Reply. 

^f^f^§j^F  that  the  World  and  Love  were  young, 
^^  And  truth  in  every  shepherd's  toung, 
^  These  pretty  pleasures  might  me  move 
U   To  live  with  thee,  and  be  thy  love. 

But  time  drives  flocks  from  field  to  fold,  5 

When  rivers  rage,  and  rocks  grow  cold, 
And  Philomel  becometh  dumb. 
And  all  complain  of  cares  to  come. 

The  flowers  do  fade,  and  wanton  fields 

To  wayward  winter  reckoning  yield  :  10 

A  honey  tongue,  a  heart  of  gall. 

Is  fancies  spring,  but  sorrows  fall. 

Thy  gowns,  thy  shoes,  thy  beds  of  roses, 
Thy  cap,  thy  kirtle,  and  thy  posies. 
Soon  break,  soon  wither,  soon  forgotten,  15 

In  folly  ripe,  in  reason  rotten. 

Thy  belt  of  straw,  and  ivie  buds, 
Thy  coral  clasps,  and  amber  studs ; 


224  TITUS    ANDRONICUS'S 

All  these  in  me  no  means  can  move 

To  come  to  thee,  and  be  thy  love.  zo 

But  could  youth  last,  and  love  still  breed, 
Had  joyes  no  date,  nor  age  no  need  ; 
Then  those  delights  my  mind  might  move 
To  live  with  thee,  and  be  thy  love. 


XIII. 
TITUS  ANDRONICUS'S  COMPLAINT. 

*HE  reader  has  here  an  ancient  ballad  on  the  same  sub- 
ject as  the  play  of  Titus  Androntcus,  and  it  is  probable 
that  the  one  was  borrowed  from  the  other  :  but  which  of 
them  was  the  original  it  is  not  easy  to  decide.  And  yet, 
if  the  argument  offered  above  for  the  priority  of  the  ballad  of  the 
Jew  of  Ve?iice  may  be  admitted,  somewhat  of  the  same  kind  may  be 
urged  here ;  for  this  ballad  differs  from  the  play  in  several  particulars, 
which  a  simple  ballad- writer  would  be  less  likely  to  alter  than  an  in- 
ventive tragedian.  Thus  in  the  ballad  is  no  mention  of  the  contest 
for  the  empire  between  the  two  brothers,  the  composing  of  which 
makes  the  ungrateful  treatment  of  Titus  afterwards  the  more  flagrant : 
neither  is  there  any  notice  taken  of  his  sacrificing  one  of  Tamora's 
sons,  which  the  tragic  poet  has  assigned  as  the  original  cause  of  all 
her  cruelties.  In  the  play  Titus  loses  twenty-one  of  his  sons  in 
war,  and  kills  another  for  assisting  Bassianus  to  carry  off  Lavinia  : 
the  reader  will  find  it  different  in  the  ballad.  In  the  latter  she  is 
betrothed  to  the  emperor's  son  :  in  the  play  to  his  brother.  In  the 
tragedy  only  two  of  his  sons  fall  into  the  pit,  and  the  third  being 
banished  returns  to  Rome  with  a  victorious  army,  to  avenge  the 
wrongs  of  his  house  :  in  the  ballad  all  three  are  entrapped  and  suffer 
death.  In  the  scene  the  emperor  kills  Titus,  and  is  in  return  stabbed 
by  Titus's  surviving  son.  Here  Titus  kills  the  emperor,  and  after- 
wards himself 

Let  the  reader  weigh  these  circumstances  and  some  others  wherein 
he  will  find  them  unlike,  and  then  pronounce  for  himself  After  all, 
there  is  reason  to  conclude  that  this  play  was  rather  improved  by 
Shakespeare  with  a  few  fine  touches  of  his  pen,  than  originally 
written  by  him ;  for,  not  to  mention  that  the  style  is  less  figurative 


COMPLAINT.  225 

than  his  others  generally  are,  this  tragedy  is  mentioned  with  discredit 
in  the  Induction  to  Ben  Jonsons  BartJwlomew  Fair,  in  1614,  as 
one  that  had  then  been  exhibited  "  five  and  twenty  or  thirty 
years  :"  whicli,  if  we  take  the  lowest  number,  throws  it  back  to  the 
year  1589,  at  which  time  Shakespeare  was  but  25  :  an  earlier  date 
than  can  be  found  for  any  other  of  his  pieces  :*  and  if  it  does  not 
clear  him  entirely  of  it,  shews  at  least  it  was  a  first  attempt.f 

The  follo\\'ing  is  given  from  a  copy  in  The  Golden  Garland 
intitled  as  above;  compared  with  three  others,  two  of  them  in 
black  letter  in  the  Pepys  Collection,  intitled.  The  Lamentable  and 
Tragical  History  of  Titus  Andronicus,  &>€.  To  the  tune  of,  Fortune. 
Printed  for  E.  Wright.     Unluckily  none  of  these  have  any  dates. 

[No  original  from  which  the  plot  of  the  play  of  Titus  Andronicus 
could  be  taken  has  yet  been  discovered,  and  it  is  just  possible  that 
this  ballad  may  have  given  the  hint,  but  the  Registers  of  the 
Stationers'  Company  go  some  way  towards  proving  a  negative  to 
this  supposition,  for  on  the  6th  of  February,  1593-4,  John  Danter 
registered  A  noble  Roman  Historye  of  Tytus  A?idronicus,  and  also 
t/i€  ballad  thereof.^ 


OU  noble  minds,  and  famous  martiall  wights, 
That  in  defence  of  native  country  fights, 
Give  eare  to  me,  that  ten  yeeres  fought  for 

Rome, 
Yet  reapt  disgrace  at  my  returning  home. 

*  Mr.  Malone  thinks  1591  to  be  the  oera  when  our  author  com- 
menced a  \vTiter  for  the  stage.  See  in  his  Shakcsp.  the  ingenious 
Attempt  to  ascertain  the  order  in  which  the  plays  of  Shakespeare  were 
written. 

t  Since  the  above  was  ^vritten,  Shakespeare's  memory  has  been 
fully  vindicated  from  the  charge  of  writing  the  above  play  by  the 
best  criticks.  See  what  has  been  urged  by  Steevens  and  Malone  in 
their  excellent  editions  of  Shakespeare,  &c.  [The  question  of 
Shakspere's  authorship  is  not  by  any  means  so  comi)Ietcly  settled 
in  the  negative  as  this  note  would  imply.  The  external  evidence  for 
its  authenticity  is  as  strong  as  for  most  of  the  other  plays.  See  Ne7u 
Shakspere  Society's  Transactions,  Part  i.  p.  126,  for  a  list  of  pas- 
sages which  seem  to  bear  evidence  of  Shakspere's  hand  in  their 
composition.] 

Q 


2  26  TITUS   ANDRONICUS'S 

In  Rome  I  lived  in  fame  fulle  threescore  yeeres,       5 
My  name  beloved  was  of  all  my  peeres ; 
Full  five  and  twenty  valiant  sonnes  I  had, 
Whose  forwarde  vertues  made  their  father  glad. 

For  when  Romes  foes  their  warlike  forces  bent, 
Against  them  stille  my  sonnes  and  I  were  sent ;      10 
Against  the  Goths  full  ten  yeeres  weary  warre 
We  spent,  receiving  many  a  bloudy  scarre. 

Just  two  and  twenty  of  my  sonnes  were  slaine 
Before  we  did  returne  to  Rome  aeaine  : 
Of  five  and  twenty  sonnes,  I  brought  but  three       15 
Alive,  the  stately  towers  of  Rome  to  see. 

When  wars  were  done,  I  conquest  home  did  bring, 
And  did  present  my  prisoners  to  the  king. 
The  queene  of  Goths,  her  sons,  and  eke  a  moore, 
Which  did  such  murders,  like  was  nere  before.         20 

The  emperour  did  make  this  queene  his  wife. 
Which  bred  in  Rome  debate  and  deadlie  strife ; 
The  moore,  with  her  two  sonnes  did  growe  soe  proud, 
That  none  like  them  in  Rome  might  bee  allowd. 

The  moore  soe  pleas'd  this  new-made  empress'  eie,  25 
That  she  consented  to  him  secretlye 
For  to  abuse  her  husbands  marriage  bed, 
And  soe  in  time  a  blackamore  she  bred. 

Then  she,  whose  thoughts  to  murder  were  inclinde. 
Consented  with  the  moore  of  bloody  minde  30 

Against  myselfe,  my  kin,  and  all  my  friendes, 
In  cruell  sort  to  bring  them  to  their  endes. 

Soe  when  in  age  I  thought  to  live  in  peace, 
Both  care  and  griefe  began  then  to  increase  : 
Amongst  my  sonnes  I  had  one  daughter  bright,      35 
Which  joy'd,  and  pleased  best  my  aged  sight ; 


COMPLAINT.  227 

My  deare  Lavinia  was  betrothed  than 

To  Cesars  sonne,  a  young  and  noble  man  : 

Who  in  a  hunting  by  the  emperours  wife, 

And  her  two  sonnes.  bereaved  was  of  Hfe.  40 

He  being  slaine,  was  cast  in  cruel  wise, 
Into  a  darksome  den  from  light  of  skies  : 
The  cruell  moore  did  come  that  way  as  then 
With  my  three  sonnes,  who  fell  into  the  den. 

The  moore  then  fetcht  the  emperour  with  speed,     45 
For  to  accuse  them  of  that  murderous  deed  ; 
And  when  my  sonnes  within  the  den  were  found, 
In  wrongfuU  prison  they  were  cast  and  bound. 

But  nowe,  behold !  what  wounded  most  my  mind, 
The  empresses  two  sonnes  of  savage  kind  50 

My  daughter  ravished  without  remorse, 
And  took  away  her  honour,  quite  perforce. 

When  they  had  tasted  of  soe  sweete  a  flowre, 
Fearing  this  sweete  should  shortly  turne  to  sowre, 
They  cutt  her  tongue,  whereby  she  could  not  tell    55 
How  that  dishonoure  unto  her  befell. 

Then  both  her  hands  they  basely  cutt  off  quite. 
Whereby  their  wickednesse  she  could  not  write ; 
Nor  with  her  needle  on  her  sampler  so  we 
The  bloudye  workers  of  her  direfull  woe.  60 

My  brother  Marcus  found  her  in  the  wood, 
Staining  the  grassie  ground  with  purple  bloud. 
That  trickled  from  her  stumpcs,  and  bloudlesse  armes: 
Noe  tongue  at  all  she  had  to  tell  her  harmes. 

But  wlicn  I  sawe  her  in  that  woefull  case,  65 

With  teares  of  bloud  I  wet  mine  acred  face  : 

For  my  Lavinia  I  lamented  more 

Then  for  my  two  and  twenty  sonnes  before. 


228  TITUS   ANDRONICUS'S 

When  as  I  sawe  she  could  not  write  nor  speake, 
With  grief  mine  aged  heart  began  to  breake ;  70 

We  spred  an  heape  of  sand  upon  the  ground, 
Whereby  those  bloudy  tyrants  out  we  found. 

For  with  a  staffe,  without  the  helpe  of  hand, 

She  writt  these  wordes  upon  the  plat  of  sand  : 

"  The  lustfull  sonnes  of  the  proud  emperesse  75 

Are  doers  of  this  hateful  wickednesse." 

I  tore  the  milk-white  hairs  from  off  mine  head, 
I  curst  the  houre,  wherein  I  first  was  bred, 
I  wisht  this  hand,  that  fought  for  countrie's  fame, 
In  cradle  rockt,  had  first  been  stroken  lame.  80 

The  moore  delighting  still  in  villainy 

Did  say,  to  sett  my  sonnes  from  prison  free 

I  should  unto  the  king  my  right  hand  give. 

And  then  my  three  imprisoned  sonnes  should  live. 

The  moore  I  caus'd  to  strike  it  off  with  speede,       85 
Whereat  I  grieved  not  to  see  it  bleed, 
But  for  my  sonnes  would  willingly  impart, 
And  for  their  ransome  send  my  bleeding  heart. 

But  as  my  life  did  linger  thus  in  paine. 
They  sent  to  me  my  bootlesse  hand  againe,  90 

And  therewithal  the  heades  of  my  three  sonnes, 
Which  filld  my  dying  heart  with  fresher  moanes. 

Then  past  reliefe  I  upp  and  downe  did  goe, 

And  with  my  tears  writ  in  the  dust  my  woe : 

I  shot  my  arrowes*  towards  heaven  hie,  95 

And  for  revenge  to  hell  did  often  crye. 

The  empresse  then,  thinking  that  I  was  mad, 
Like  furies  she  and  both  her  sonnes  were  clad, 

*  If  the  ballad  was  written  before  the  play,  I  should  suppose  this 
to  be  only  a  metaphorical  expression,  taken  from  that  in  the  Psalms, 
"  They  shoot  out  their  arrows,  even  bitter  words."  Ps.  64.  3. 


COMPLAINT.  229 

(She  nam'd  Revenge,  and  Rape  and  Murder  they) 
To  undermine  and  heare  what  I  would  say. 


100 


I  fed  their  fooHsh  veines*  a  certaine  space, 
Untill  my  friendes  did  find  a  secret  place, 
Where  both  her  sonnes  unto  a  post  were  bound, 
And  just  revenge  in  cruell  sort  was  found. 

I  cut  their  throates,  my  daughter  held  the  pan       105 
Betwixt  her  stumpes,  wherein  the  bloud  it  ran  : 
And  then  I  ground  their  bones  to  powder  small. 
And  made  a  paste  for  pyes  streight  therewithall. 

Then  with  their  fleshe  I  made  two  mighty  pyes. 
And  at  a  banquet  servde  in  stately  wise  :  no 

Before  the  empresse  set  this  loathsome  meat ; 
So  of  her  sonnes  own  flesh  she  well  did  eat. 

Myselfe  bereav'd  my  daughter  then  of  life, 
The  empresse  then  I  slewe  with  bloudy  knife. 
And  stabb'd  the  emperour  immediatelie,  ns 

And  then  myself:  even  soe  did  Titus  die. 

Then  this  revenge  against  the  Moore  was  found, 
Alive  they  sett  him  halfe  into  the  ground, 
Whereas  he  stood  untill  such  time  he  starv'd. 
And  soe  God  send  all  murderers  may  be  serv'd.    120 

*  i.e.  encouraged  them  in  their  foolish  humours,  or  fancies. 


230       TAKE    THOSE  LIPS  AWAY. 


XIV. 
TAKE  THOSE  LIPS  AWAY. 

fHE  first  stanza  of  this  little  sonnet,  which  an  eminent 
critic*  justly  admires  for  its  extreme  sweetness,  is  found 
in  Shakespeare's  Measure  for  Measure,  act  iv.  sc.  i.  Both 
the  stanzas  are  preserved  in  Beaum.  and  Fletcher's 
Bloody  Brother,  act  v.  sc.  2.  Sewel  and  Gildon  have  printed  it 
among  Shakespeare's  smaller  poems,  but  they  have  done  the  same 
by  twenty  other  pieces  that  were  never  writ  by  him ;  their  book  being 
a  wretched  heap  of  inaccuracies  and  mistakes.  It  is  not  found  in 
Jaggard's  old  edition  of  Shakespeare's  Fassiotiate  Pilgrim,\  &c. 

[The  second  stanza  is  an  evident  addition  by  another  and  inferior 
hand,  so  that  Percy's  expression  above  —  "  both  the  stanzas  are 
preserved" — gives  a  false  impression.] 


i^g^^AKE,  oh  take  those  lips  away, 

That  so  sweetlye  were  forsworne ; 
And  those  eyes,  the  breake  of  day. 
Lights,  that  do  misleade  the  morne : 
But  my  kisses  bring  againe, 
Scales  of  love,  but  seal'd  in  vaine. 

Hide,  oh  hide  those  hills  of  snowe, 
Which  thy  frozen  bosom  beares. 

On  whose  tops  the  pinkes  that  growe, 
Are  of  those  that  April  wears  : 

But  first  set  my  poor  heart  free, 

Bound  in  those  icy  chains  by  thee. 


10 


*  Dr.  Warburton  in  his  Shakesp. 

f  Mr.  Malone,  in  his  improved  edition  of  Shakespeare's  Sonnets, 
&c.  hath  substituted  this  instead  of  Marlow's  Madrigal,  printed 
above ;  for  which  he  hath  assigned  reasons,  which  the  reader  may 
see  in  his  vol.  x.  p.  340. 


KING    LEIR. 


XV. 

KING   LEIR   AND    HIS   THREE 
DAUGHTERS. 


^^HE  reader  has  here  an  ancient  ballad  on  the  subject  of 
.^V  King  Lear,  which  (as  a  sensible  female  critic  has  well 
^^S^  obser\-ed*)  bears  so  exact  an  analogy  to  the  argument  of 
Shakespeare's  play,  that  his  having  copied  it  could  not 
be  doubted,  if  it  were  certain  that  it  was  written  before  the  tragedy. 
Here  is  found  the  hint  of  Lear's  madness,  which  the  old  chro- 
niclesf  do  not  mention,  as  also  the  extravagant  cruelty  exercised  on 
him  by  his  daughters.  In  the  death  of  Lear  they  likewise  very  exactly 
coincide.  The  misfortune  is,  that  there  is  nothing  to  assist  us  in 
ascertaining  the  date  of  the  ballad  but  what  little  evidence  arises 
from  within  ;  this  the  reader  must  weigh  and  judge  for  himself. 

It  may  be  proper  to  observe,  that  Shakespeare  was  not  the  first 
of  our  dramatic  poets  who  fitted  the  story  of  Leir  to  the  stage.  His 
first  4to.  edition  is  dated  1608:  but  three  years  before  that  had 
been  printed  a  play  intitled,  T/te  true  CJu-onidc  History  of  Leir  and 
his  three  daughters  Gonorill,  Ragan,  and  Cordelia,  as  it  hath  been 
divers  and  sundry  times  lately  acted,  1605,  ^to. — This  is  a  very  poor 
and  dull  perfomiance,  but  happily  excited  Shakespeare  to  under- 
take the  subject,  which  he  has  given  with  very  different  incidents. 
It  is  remarkable,  that  neither  the  circumstances  of  Leir's  madness, 
nor  his  retinue  of  a  select  number  of  knights,  nor  the  affecting  deaths 
of  Cordelia  and  Leir,  are  found  in  that  first  dramatic  piece  :  in  all 
which  Shakespeare  concurs  with  this  ballad. 

But  to  form  a  true  judgement  of  Shakespeare's  merit,  the  curious 
reader  should  cast  his  eye  over  that  previous  sketch  ;  which  he 
will  find  printed  at  the  end  of  The  Twenty  Flays  of  Shakespeare, 
repubhshed  from  the  quarto  impressions  by  George  Steevens,  Esq. ; 
with  such  elegance  and  exactness  as  led  us  to  expect  that  fine  edi- 
tion of  all  the  works  of  our  great  dramatic  poet,  which  he  hath 
since  published. 

The  following  ballad  is  given  from  an  ancient  copy  in  the  Golden 

♦  Mrs.  I^nnox.     Shakespeare  illustrated,  vol.  iii.  p.  302. 
t  See  Jeffcry  of  Monmouth,  Holinshcd,  (Sic.  who  relate  Leir's 
history  in  many  respects  the  same  as  the  ballad. 


232  KING    LEIR    AND    HIS 

Garland,  bl.  let.  intitled,  A  lamentable  song  of  the  Death  of  King 
Leir  and  his  Three  Daughters.     To  the  tune  of  When  flying  Fame. 

[The  old  play  referred  to  above,  although  printed  as  late  as  the 
year  1605,  was  probably  only  a  re-impression  of  a  piece  entered  in 
the  Stationers'  Register  in  1594,  as  it  was  a  frequent  practice  of  the 
publishers  to  take  advantage  of  the  popularity  of  Shakspere's  plays 
on  the  stage,  by  publishing  dramas  having  somewhat  the  same  titles 
as  his. 

The  Cordelia  of  the  play  is  softened  in  the  ballad  to  Cordelia, 
the  form  used  by  Shakspere  and  Spenser,  but  the  name  Ragan  is 
retained  in  place  of  Shakspere's  Regan.] 


ING  Leir  once  ruled  in  this  land 
With  princely  power  and  peace ; 
And  had  all  things  with  hearts  content, 
That  might  his  joys  increase. 
Amongst  those  things  that  nature  gave,  5 

Three  daughters  fair  had  he, 
So  princely  seeming  beautiful, 
As  fairer  could  not  be. 

So  on  a  time  it  pleas'd  the  king 

A  question  thus  to  move,  10 

Which  of  his  daughters  to  his  grace 

Could  shew  the  dearest  love  : 
For  to  my  age  you  bring  content, 

Ouoth  he,  then  let  me  hear. 
Which  of  you  three  in  plighted  troth  15 

The  kindest  will  appear. 

To  whom  the  eldest  thus  began ; 

Dear  father,  mind,  quoth  she, 
Before  your  face,  to  do  you  good. 

My  blood  shall  render'd  be  :  ao 

And  for  your  sake  my  bleeding  heart 

Shall  here  be  cut  in  twain. 
Ere  that  I  see  your  reverend  age 

The  smallest  grief  sustain. 


THREE    DAUGHTERS.  233 

And  so  will  I,  the  second  said;  25 

Dear  father,  for  your  sake, 
The  worst  of  all  extremities 

I'll  gently  undertake  : 
And  serve  your  highness  night  and  day 

With  diligence  and  love  ;  30 

That  sweet  content  and  quietness 

Discomforts  may  remove. 

In  doing  so,  you  glad  my  soul, 

The  aged  king  reply'd  ; 
But  w^hat  sayst  thou,  my  youngest  girl,  35 

How  is  thy  love  ally'd  ? 
My  love  (quoth  young  Cordelia  then) 

Which  to  your  grace  I  owe, 
Shall  be  the  duty  of  a  child. 

And  that  is  all  I'll  show.  40 

And  wilt  thou  shew  no  more,  quoth  he, 

Than  doth  thy  duty  bind  ? 
I  well  perceive  thy  love  is  small. 

When  as  no  more  I  find. 
Henceforth  I  banish  thee  my  court,  45 

Thou  art  no  child  of  mine  ; 
Nor  any  part  of  this  my  realm 

By  favour  shall  be  thine. 

Thy  elder  sisters  loves  are  more 

Than  well  I  can  demand,  50 

To  whom  I  equally  bestow 

My  kingdome  and  my  land, 
My  pompal  state  and  all  my  goods, 

That  lovingly  I  may 
With  those  thy  sisters  be  maintain'd  55 

Until  my  dying  day. 

Thus  flattering  speeches  won  renown, 

By  these  two  sisters  here  ; 
The  third  had  causeless  banishment, 

Yet  was  her  love  more  dear  :  60 


234  KING    LEIR    AND    HIS 

For  poor  Cordelia  patiently 

Went  wandring  up  and  down, 
Unhelp'd,  unpity'd,  gentle  maid, 

Through  many  an  English  town  : 

Untill  at  last  in  famous  France  65 

She  gentler  fortunes  found  ; 
Though  poor  and  bare,  yet  she  was  deem'd 

The  fairest  on  the  ground  : 
Where  when  the  king  her  virtues  heard. 

And  this  fair  lady  seen,  70 

With  full  consent  of  all  his  court 

He  made  his  wife  and  queen. 

Her  father  king  Leir  this  while 

With  his  two  daughters  staid : 
Forgetful  of  their  promis'd  loves,  75 

Full  soon  the  same  decay'd  ; 
And  living  in  queen  Ragan's  court. 

The  eldest  of  the  twain, 
She  took  from  him  his  chiefest  means. 

And  most  of  all  his  train.  ^° 

For  whereas  twenty  men  were  wont 

To  wait  with  bended  knee  : 
She  gave  allowance  but  to  ten. 

And  after  scarce  to  three  : 
Nay,  one  she  thought  too  much  for  him  ;  85 

So  took  she  all  away, 
In  hope  that  in  her  court,  good  king, 

He  would  no  longer  stay. 

Am  I  rewarded  thus,  quoth  he. 

In  giving  all  I  have  9© 

Unto  my  children,  and  to  beg 

For  what  I  lately  gave  ? 
I'll  go  unto  my  Gonorell : 

My  second  child,  I  know, 
Will  be  more  kind  and  pitiful,  95 

And  will  relieve  my  woe. 


THREE    DAUGHTERS.  235 

Full  fast  he  hies  then  to  her  court ; 

Where  when  she  heard  his  moan 
Return'd  him  answer,  That  she  griev'd, 

That  all  his  means  were  o;one  :  100 

But  no  way  could  relieve  his  wants  ; 

Yet  if  that  he  would  stay 
Within  her  kitchen,  he  should  have 

What  scullions  gave  away. 

When  he  had  heard,  with  bitter  tears,  105 

He  made  his  answer  then  ; 
In  what  I  did  let  me  be  made 

Example  to  all  men. 
I  will  return  again,  quoth  he, 

Unto  my  Ragan's  court ;  no 

She  will  not  use  me  thus,  I  hope, 

But  in  a  kinder  sort. 

Where  when  he  came,  she  gave  command 

To  drive  him  thence  away  : 
When  he  was  well  within  her  court  115 

(She  said)  he  would  not  stay. 
Then  back  again  to  Gonorell, 

The  woeful  king  did  hie, 
That  in  her  kitchen  he  micjht  have 

What  scullion  boys  set  by.  120 

But  there  of  that  he  was  deny'd, 

W^hich  she  had  promis'd  late  : 
For  once  refusing,  he  should  not 

Come  after  to  her  gate. 
Thus  twixt  his  daughters,  for  relief  125 

He  wandred  up  and  down  ; 
Being  glad  to  feed  on  beggars  food, 

That  lately  wore  a  crown. 

And  calling  to  remembrance  then 

His  youngest  daughters  words,  *3o 

That  said  the  duty  of  a  child 

Was  all  that  love  affords  : 


2-,6  KING    LEIR    AND    HIS 


■0 


But  doubting  to  repair  to  her, 

Whom  he  had  banish'd  so, 
Grew  frantick  mad;  for  in  his  mind  135 

He  bore  the  wounds  of  woe  : 

Which  made  him  rend  his  milk-white  locks, 

And  tresses  from  his  head, 
And  all  with  blood  bestain  his  cheeks, 

With  age  and  honour  spread.  140 

To  hills  and  woods  and  watry  founts. 

He  made  his  hourly  moan, 
Till  hills  and  woods,  and  sensless  things, 

Did  seem  to  sigh  and  groan. 

Even  thus  possest  with  discontents,  145 

He  passed  o're  to  France, 
In  hopes  from  fair  Cordelia  there. 

To  find  some  gentler  chance  ; 
Most  virtuous  dame  !  which  when  she  heard 

Of  this  her  father's  grief,  150 

As  duty  bound,  she  quickly  sent 

Him  comfort  and  relief: 

And  by  a  train  of  noble  peers. 

In  brave  and  gallant  sort, 
She  gave  in  charge  he  should  be  brought       155 

To  Aganippus'  court ; 
Whose  royal  king,  with  noble  mind 

So  freely  gave  consent. 
To  muster  up  his  knights  at  arms, 

To  fame  and  courage  bent.  160 

And  so  to  England  came  with  speed. 

To  repossesse  king  Leir, 
And  drive  his  daughters  from  their  thrones 

By  his  Cordelia  dear. 
Where  she,  true-hearted  noble  queen,  165 

Was  in  the  battel  slain  : 
Yet  he  good  king,  in  his  old  days, 

Possest  his  crown  again. 


THREE    DAUGHTERS. 


1  1  *7 


170 


But  when  he  heard  CordeHa's  death, 

Who  died  indeed  for  love 
Of  her  dear  father,  in  whose  cause 

She  did  this  battle  move  ; 
He  swooning  fell  upon  her  breast, 

From  whence  he  never  parted  : 
But  on  her  bosom  left  his  life,  175 

That  was  so  truly  hearted. 

The  lords  and  nobles  when  they  saw 

The  end  of  these  events. 
The  other  sisters  unto  death 

They  doomed  by  consents  ; 
And  being  dead,  their  crowns  they  left 

Unto  the  next  of  kin  : 
Thus  have  you  seen  the  fall  of  pride, 

And  disobedient  sin. 


ISO 


XVI. 
YOUTH  AND  AGE, 

^S  found  in  the  little  collection  of  Shakespeare's  Sonnets, 
intitled  the  Passionate  Fi/gri'ine*  tlie  greatest  part  of 
which  seems  to  relate  to  the  amours  of  Venus  and 
Adonis,  being  little  effusions  of  fancy,  probably  written 
while  he  was  composing  his  larger  poem  on  that  subject.  The 
following  seems  intended  for  the  mouth  of  Venus,  weighing  the 
comparative  merits  of  youthful  Adonis  and  aged  Vulcan.  In  the 
Gar/ami  of  Good  Will  it  is  reprinted,  with  the  addition  of  four 
more  such  stanzas,  but  evidently  written  by  a  meaner  pen. 

*  Mentioned  above,  Song  XL  B.  II. 


238 


YOUTH   AND    AGE. 


'RABBED  Age  and  Youth 
Cannot  live  together ; 
Youth  is  full  of  pleasance, 
Agfe  is  full  of  care  : 
Youth  like  summer  morn, 

Age  like  winter  weather, 
Youth  like  summer  brave, 

Age  like  winter  bare  : 
Youth  is  full  of  sport. 
Ages  breath  is  short ; 

Youth  is  nimble,  Age  is  lame  : 
Youth  is  hot  and  bold. 
Age  is  weak  and  cold  ; 

Youth  is  wild,  and  Age  is  tame. 
Age,  I  do  abhor  thee. 
Youth,  I  do  adore  thee ; 

O,  my  love,  my  love  is  young : 
Age,  I  do  defie  thee ; 
Oh  sweet  shepheard,  hie  thee, 

For  methinks  thou  stayst  too  long. 


lO 


15 


20 


XVII. 

THE  FROLICKSOME  DUKE,  OR  THE 
TINKER'S  GOOD  FORTUNE. 


*HE  following  ballad  is  upon  the  same  subject  as  the 
Induction  to  Shakespeare's  Taming  of  the  Shreiv :  whe- 
ther it  may  be  thought  to  have  suggested  the  hint  to 
the  dramatic  Doet,  or  is  not  rather  of  later  date,  the 
reader  must  determine. 

The  story  is  told*  of  Philip  the  Good,  Duke  of  Burgundy;  and 
is  thus  related  by  an  old  English  writer :  "  The  said  Duke,  at  the 

*  By  Ludov.  Vives  in  Epist.,  and  by  Pont.  Heuter.  Rerum  Bur- 
gund.  1.  4. 


THE    FROLICKSOME    DUKE.     239 

marriage  of  Eleonora,  sister  to  the  king  of  Portugall,  at  Bruges  in 
Flanders,  which  was  solemnised  in  the  deepe  of  winter ;  when  as  by 
reason  of  unseasonable  weather  he  could  neither  hawke  nor  hunt, 
and  was  now  tired  Anth  cards,  dice,  &c.  and  such  other  domestick 
sports,  or  to  see  ladies  dance ;  with  some  of  his  courtiers,  he  would 
in  the  evening  walke  disguised  all  about  the  towne.  It  so  fortuned, 
as  he  was  walking  late  one  night,  he  found  a  countrey  fellow  dead 
drunke,  snorting  on  a  bulke ;  he  caused  his  followers  to  bring  him 
to  his  palace,  and  there  stripping  him  of  his  old  clothes,  and 
att}Ting  him  after  the  court  fashion,  when  he  wakened,  he  and 
they  were  all  ready  to  attend  upon  his  excellency,  and  persuade 
him  that  he  was  some  great  Duke.  The  poor  fellow  admiring  how 
he  came  there,  was  served  in  state  all  day  long :  after  supper  he 
saw  them  dance,  heard  musicke,  and  all  the  rest  of  those  court- 
like pleasures :  but  late  at  night,  when  he  was  well  tipled,  and 
again  fast  asleepe,  they  put  on  his  old  robes,  and  so  conveyed  him 
to  the  place,  where  they  first  found  him.  Now  the  fellow  had  not 
made  them  so  good  sport  the  day  before,  as  he  did  now,  when  he 
returned  to  himself:  all  the  jest  was  to  see  how  he  looked  upon  it. 
In  conclusion,  after  some  little  admiration,  the  poore  man  told  his 
friends  he  had  seen  a  vision ;  constantly  believed  it ;  would  not 
othen\ise  be  persuaded,  and  so  the  jest  ended."  Burton's  Anatomy 
of  Melancholy,  pt.  ii.  sect.  2.     Memb.  4,  2nd  ed.  1624,  fol. 

This  ballad  is  given  from  a  black-letter  copy  in  the  Pepys  Col- 
lection, which  is  intitled  as  above.     "  To  the  tune  of  Fo7id  Boy:' 

[The  story  of  this  ballad  is  of  Eastern  origin,  and  is  the  same  as 
the  tale  of  the  Sleeper  aivakened  in  the  Arabian  Nights.  The  story 
crops  up  in  many  places,  some  of  which  are  pointed  out  in  Prof, 
Child's  English  and  Scottish  Ballads  (vol.  viii.  p.  54).  The  question, 
however,  of  its  origin  is  not  of  immediate  interest  in  the  discussion 
of  Shakspere's  plots,  because  the  author  of  the  old  play,  Taming 
of  a  Shrcii',  had  already  used  the  subject  and  named  the  tinker 
Slie,  so  that  we  have  not  far  to  seek  for  Shakspere's  original.] 


[OW   as   fame   does   report   a  young  duke 
keeps  a  court, 
One  that  please  his  fancy  with  froHcksome 
sport : 

But  amoncrst  all  the  rest,  here  is  one  I  protest, 
Which  will  make  you  to  smile  when  you  hear  the 
true  jest : 


240     THE    FROLICKSOME    DUKE. 

A  poor  tinker  he  found,  lying  drunk  on  the  ground,  s 
As  secure  in  a  sleep  as  if  laid  in  a  swound. 

The  duke  said  to  his  men,  William,  Richard,  and  Ben, 
Take  him  horrie  to  my  palace,  we'll  sport  with  him  then. 
O'er  a  horse  he  was  laid,  and  with  care  soon  convey'd 
To  the  palace,  altho'  he  was  poorly  arrai'd  :  lo 

Then  they  stript  off  his  cloaths,  both  his  shirt,  shoes 

and  hose. 
And  they  put  him  to  bed  for  to  take  his  repose. 

Having  pull'd  off  his  shirt,  which  was  all  over  durt, 
They  did  give  him  clean  holland,  this  was  no  great 

hurt : 
On  a  bed  of  soft  down,  like  a  lord  of  renown,  15 

They  did  lay  him  to  sleep  the  drink  out  of  his  crown. 
In  the  morning  when  day,  then  admiring  he  lay. 
For  to  see  the  rich  chamber  both  gaudy  and  gay. 

'Now  he  lay  something  late,  in  his  rich  bed  of  state. 
Till  at  last  knights  and  squires  they  on  him  did  wait ;  20 
And  the  chamberling  bare,  then  did  Hkewise  declare, 
He  desir'd  to  know  what  apparel  he'd  ware  : 
The  poor  tinker  amaz'd,  on  the  gentleman  gaz'd, 
And  admired  how  he  to  this  honour  was  rais'd. 

Tho'  he  seem'd  something  mute,  yet  he  chose  a  rich 
suit,  25 

Which  he  straitways  put  on  without  longer  dispute  ; 
With  a  star  on  his  side,  which  the  tinker  offt  ey'd, 
And  it  seem'd  for  to  swell  him  '  no '  little  with  pride  ; 
For  he  said  to  himself.  Where  is  Joan  my  sweet  wife  ? 
Sure  she  never  did  see  me  so  fine  in  her  life.  3° 

From  a  convenient  place,  the  right  duke  his  good 

grace 
Did  observe  his  behaviour  in  every  case 
To  a  garden  of  state,  on  the  tinker  they  wait, 
Trumpets  sounding  before  him :  thought  he,  this  is 

great : 


THE    FROLICKSOME    DUKE.     241 

Where  an  hour  or  two,  pleasant  walks  he  did  view,  35 
With  commanders  and  squires  in  scarlet  and  blew. 

A  fine  dinner  was  drest,  both  for  him  and  his  guests, 
He  was  plac'd  at  the  table  above  all  the  rest, 
In  a  rich  chair  '  or  bed,'  lin'd  witli  fine  crimson  red, 
With  a  rich  golden  canopy  over  his  head  :  40 

As  he  sat  at  his  meat,  the  musick  play'd  sweet, 
With  the  choicest  of  singing  his  joys  to  compleat. 

While  the  tinker  did  dine,  he  had  plenty  of  wine, 

Rich  canary  with  sherry  and  tent  superfine. 

Like  a  right  honest  soul,  faith,  he  took  off  his  bowl,  45 

Till  at  last  he  beo^an  for  to  tumble  and  roul 

From  his  chair  to  the  floor,  where  he  sleeping  did  snore, 

Beinof  seven  times  drunker  than  ever  before. 


& 


Then  the  duke  did  ordain,  they  should    strip    him 

amain. 
And  restore  him  his  old  leather  garments  again  :     50 
'Twas  a  point  next  the  worst,  yet  perform  it  they  must. 
And  they  carry'd  him  strait,  where  they  found  him  at 

first ; 
Then  he  slept  all  the  night,  as  indeed  well  he  might ; 
But  when  he  did  waken,  his  joys  took  their  flight. 

For  his  glory  '  to  him '  so  pleasant  did  seem,  55 

That  he  thought  it  to  be  but  a  meer  golden  dream  ; 
Till  at  length  he  was  brought  to  the  duke,  where  he 

sought 
For  a  pardon,  as  fearing  he  had  set  him  at  nought ; 
But  his  highness  he  said,  Thou'rt  a  jolly  bold  blade. 
Such  a  frolick  before  I  think  never  was  plaid.  60 

Thc-n  his  highness  bespoke  him  a  new  suit  and  cloak, 
Which  he  gave  for  the  sake  of  this  frolicksome  joak; 
Nay,  and  five-hundred  pound,  with  ten  acres  of  ground, 
Thou  shalt  never,  said  he,  range  the  counteries  round, 

R 


242     THE    FROLICKSOME    DUKE. 

Crying  old  brass  to  mend,  for  I'll  be  thy  good  friend,  65 
Nay,  and  Joan  thy  sweet  wife  shall  my  duchess  attend. 

Then  the  tinker  reply'd,  What!  must  Joan  my  sweet 
bride 

Be  a  lady  in  chariots  of  pleasure  to  ride  ? 

Must  we  have  gold  and  land  ev'ry  day  at  command  ? 

Then  I  shall  be  a  squire  I  well  understand :  70 

Well  I  thank  your  good  grace,  and  your  love  I  em- 
brace, 

I  was  never  before  in  so  happy  a  case. 


XVIII. 
THE  FRIAR  OF  ORDERS  GRAY. 

ISPERSED .  thro'  Shakespeare's  plays  are  innumerable 
Httle  fragments  of  ancient  ballads,  the  entire  copies  of 
which  could  not  be  recovered.  Many  of  these  being 
of  the  most  beautiful  and  pathetic  simplicity,  the  Editor 
was  tempted  to  select  some  of  them,  and  with  a  few  supplemental 
stanzas  to  connect  them  together,  and  form  them  into  a  little  tale^ 
which  is  here  submitted  to  the  reader's  candour. 

One  small  fragment  was  taken  from  Beaumont  and  Fletcher. 

[Ritson  exhibits  a  bit  of  grim  humour  in  his  Anciejit  Songs,  vol.' 
ii.  ed.  1829,  p.  64,  where  he  prints  a  parody  of  Pe7-cy's  Friar  of 
Orders  Gray,  under  the  title  of  iht/ovial  Tmker,  and  prefixes  to  it 
the  exact  words  that  Percy  uses  above.   The  parody  commences — 

"  It  was  a  jovial  tinker, 

All  of  the  north  countrie. 
As  he  walk'd  forth,  along  the  way 

He  sung  right  merrily."] 


T  was  a  friar  of  orders  gray 

Walkt  forth  to  tell  his  beades ; 
And  he  met  with  a  lady  faire 
Clad  in  a  pilgrime's  weedes. 


FRIAR    OF   ORDERS    GRAY.     243 

Now  Christ  thee  save,  thou  reverend  friar,         5 

I  pray  thee  tell  to  me, 
If  ever  at  yon  holy  shrine 

]\Iy  true  love  thou  didst  see. 

And  how  should  I  know  your  true  love 

From  many  another  one  ?  10 

O  by  his  cockle  hat,  and  staff, 
And  by  his  sandal  shoone.* 

But  chiefly  by  his  face  and  mien, 

That  were  so  fair  to  view  ; 
His  flaxen  locks  that  sweetly  curl'd,  15 

And  eyne  of  lovely  blue. 

O  lady,  he  is  dead  and  gone ! 

Lady,  he's  dead  and  gone  ! 
And  at  his  head  a  green  grass  turfe, 

And  at  his  heels  a  stone. 


20 


Within  these  holy  cloysters  long 

He  languisht,  and  he  dyed. 
Lamenting  of  a  ladyes  love, 

And  'playning  of  her  pride. 

Here  bore  him  barefac'd  on  his  bier  25 

Six  proper  youths  and  tall, 
And  many  a  tear  bedew'd  his  grave 

Within  yon  kirk-yard  wall. 

And  art  thou  dead,  thou  gentle  youth ! 

And  art  thou  dead  and  gone !  30 

And  didst  thou  dye  for  love  of  me  ! 

Break,  cruel  heart  of  stone  ! 


*  These  are  the  distinguishing  marks  of  a  pilgrim.  The  chief 
places  of  devotion  being  beyond  sea,  the  pilgrims  were  wont  to  put 
cockle-shells  in  their  hats  to  denote  the  intention  or  performance 
of  their  devotion.    Warb.  Shakesp.  vol.  viii.,  p.  224. 


244  THE    FRIAR    OF 

O  weep  not,  lady,  weep  not  soe ; 

Some  ghostly  comfort  seek  : 
Let  not  vain  sorrow  rive  thy  heart,  35 

Ne  teares  bedew  thy  cheek. 

O  do  not,  do  not,  holy  friar. 

My  sorrow  now  reprove  ; 
For  I  have  lost  the  sweetest  youth. 

That  e'er  wan  ladyes  love.  4-0 

And  nowe,  alas  !  for  thy  sad  losse, 

I'll  evermore  weep  and  sigh ; 
For  thee  I  only  wisht  to  live. 

For  thee  I  wish  to  dye. 

Weep  no  more,  lady,  weep  no  more,  45 

Thy  sorrowe  is  in  vaine  : 
For  violets  pluckt  the  sweetest  showers 

Will  ne'er  make  grow  againe. 

Our  joys  as  winged  dreams  doe  fiye, 

Why  then  should  sorrow  last  ?  50 

Since  grief  but  aggravates  thy  losse. 
Grieve  not  for  what  is  past. 

O  say  not  soe,  thou  holy  friar ; 

I  pray  thee,  say  not  soe  : 
For  since  my  true-love  dyed  for  mee,  55 

'Tis  meet  my  tears  should  flow. 

And  will  he  ne'er  come  again  ? 

Will  he  ne'er  come  again  ? 
Ah !  no,  he  is  dead  and  laid  in  his  grave, 

For  ever  to  remain.  60 

His  cheek  was  redder  than  the  rose  ; 

The  comliest  youth  was  he  ! 
But  he  is  dead  and  laid  in  his  grave  :    - 

Alas,  and  woe  is  me ! 


ORDERS    GRAY.  245 

Sigh  no  more,  lady,  sigh  no  more,  65 

Men  were  deceivers  ever  : 
One  foot  on  sea  and  one  on  land,  v 

To  one  tiling  constant  never. 

Hadst  thou  been  fond,  he  had  been  false, 

And  left  thee  sad  and  heavy  ;  70 

For  young  men  ever  were  fickle  found, 
Since  summer  trees  were  leafy. 

Now  say  not  so,  thou  holy  friar, 

I  pray  thee  say  not  soe  ; 
My  love  he  had  the  truest  heart :  75 

O  he  was  ever  true  ! 

And  art  thou  dead,  thou  much-Iov'd  youth, 

And  didst  thou  dye  for  mee  ? 
Then  farewell  home  ;  for  ever-more 

A  pilgrim  I  will  bee.  80 

But  first  upon  my  true-loves  grave 

My  weary  limbs  I'll  lay, 
And  thrice  I'll  kiss  the  green-grass  turf, 

That  wraps  his  breathless  clay. 

Yet  stay,  fair  lady  ;  rest  awhile  85 

Beneath  this  cloyster  wall  : 
See  through  the  hawthorn  blows  the  cold  wind. 

And  drizzly  rain  doth  fall. 

O  stay  me  not,  thou  holy  friar ; 

O  stay  me  not,  I  pray ;  90 

No  drizzly  rain  that  falls  on  me, 

Can  wash  my  fault  away. 

Yet  sta)',  fair  lady,  turn  again. 

And  dry  those  pearly  tears  ; 
For  see  beneath  tliis  gown  of  gray  95 

Thy  owne  true-love  appears. 


246    FRIAR   OF    ORDERS    GRAY, 

Here  forc'd  by  grief,  and  hopeless  love, 

These  holy  weeds  I  sought ; 
And  here  amid  these  lonely  walls 

To  end  my  days  I  thought.  ^  loo 

But  haply  for  my  year  of  grace  * 

Is  not  yet  past  away, 
Might  I  still  hope  to  win  thy  love, 

No  longer  would  I  stay. 

Now  farewell  grief,  and  welcome  joy  105 

Once  more  unto  my  heart  ; 
For  since  I  have  found  thee,  lovely  youth, 

We  never  more  will  part. 

*^*  As  the  foregoing  song  has  been  thought  to  have  suggested 
to  our  late  excellent  Poet  Dr.  Goldsmith,  the  plan  of  his  beautiful 
ballad  of  Edwin  and  Emma  (first  printed  in  his  Vicar  of  Wakefield') 
it  is  but  justice  to  his  memory  to  declare,  that  his  poem  was 
written  first,  and  that  if  there  is  any  imitation  in  the  case,  they  will  be 
found  both  to  be  indebted  to  the  beautiful  old  ballad  Gentle  Herds- 
man, &c.  printed  in  the  second  volume  of  this  Work,  which  the 
Doctor  had  much  admired  in  manuscript,  and  has  finely  improved. 
See  vol.  ii.  book  i.  song  xiv.  ver.  37. 


The  year  of  probation,  or  noviciate. 


THE  END  OF  THE  SECOND  BOOK. 


\ 


RELIOUES   OF  ANCIENT  POETRY,  ETC. 


SERIES  THE  FIRST. 


BOOK  III. 


^=^P2^ 


I. 

THE  MORE  MODERN   BALLAD  OF 
CHEVY  CHACE. 


'  T  the  beginning  of  this  volume  we  gave  the  old  original 
Song  of  Chrvy  Chacc.  The  reader  has  here  the  more 
improved  edition  of  that  fine  heroic  ballad.  It  will 
aftbrd  an  agreeable  entertainment  to  the  curious  to 
compare  them  together,  and  to  see  how  far  the  latter  bard  has  ex- 
celled his  predecessor,  and  where  he  has  fallen  short  of  him.  For 
tho'  he  has  every  where  improved  the  versification,  and  generally 
the  sentiment  and  diction;  yet  some  few  passages  retain  more 
dignity  in  the  ancient  copy ;  at  least  the  obsoleteness  of  the  style 
serves  as  a  veil  to  hide  whatever  might  appear  too  familiar  or  vul- 
gar in  them.  Thus,  for  instance,  the  catastrophe  of  the  gallant 
Witherington  is  in  the  modem  copy  exprest  in  terms  which  never 
fail  c-tt  present  to  excite  ridicule :  whereas  in  the  original  it  is  re- 
lated with  a  plain  and  pathetic  simplicity,  that  is  hable  to  no  such 
unlucky  effect :  See  the  stanza  in  page  32,  which,  in  modern  ortho- 
graphy, &:c.  would  run  thus. 

"  For  Witherington  my  heart  is  woe, 

That  ever  he  slain  should  be  : 
For  when  his  legs  were  hewn  in  two, 

He  knelt  and  fought  on  his  knee." 

So  again  the  stanza  which  describes  the  fall  of  Montgomery  is 
somewhat  more  elevated  in  the  ancient  copy  : 

"The  dint  it  was  both  sad  and  sore, 

He  on  Montgomery  set : 
The  swan-feathers  his  arrow  bore 

With  his  hearts  blood  were  wet."  V-  Z^- 

We  might  also  add,   that  the  circumstances  of  the  battle  are 
more  clearly  conceived  and  the  several  incidents  more  distinctly 


250  MODERN  BALLAD 

marked  in  the  old  original,  than  in  the  improved  copy.  It  is  well 
known  that  the  ancient  English  weapon  was  the  long  bow,  and 
that  this  nation  excelled  all  others  in  archery ;  while  the  Scottish 
warriours  chiefly  depended  on  the  use  of  the  spear :  this  charac- 
teristic difference  never  escapes  our  ancient  bard,  whose  description 
of  the  first  onset  is  to  the  follomng  effect : 

"  The  proposal  of  the  two  gallant  earls  to  determine  the  dispute 
by  single  combat  being  over-ruled;  the  English,  says  he,  who 
stood  with  their  bows  ready  bent,  gave  a  general  discharge  of  their 
arrows,  which  slew  seven  score  spearmen  of  the  enemy .-  but,  not- 
withstanding so  severe  a  loss,  Douglas  like  a  brave  captain  kept 
his  ground.  He  had  divided  his  forces  into  three  columns,  who, 
as  soon  as  the  English  had  discharged  the  first  volley,  bore  down  upon 
them  with  their  spears,  and  breaking  through  their  ranks  reduced 
them  to  close  fighting.  The  archers  upon  this  dropt  their  bows 
and  had  recourse  to  their  swords,  and  there  followed  so  sharp  a 
conflict,  that  multitudes  on  both  sides  lost  their  lives."  In  the  midst 
of  this  general  engagement,  at  length,  the  two  great  earls  meet, 
and  after  a  spirited  rencounter  agree  to  breathe;  upon  which  a 
parley  ensues,  that  would  do  honour  to  Homer  himself. 

Nothing  can  be  more  pleasingly  distinct  and  circumstantial  than 
this  :  whereas,  the  modern  copy,  tho'  in  general  it  has  great  merit, 
is  here  unluckily  both  confused  and  obscure.  Indeed  the  original 
words  seem  here  to  have  been  totally  misunderstood.  "  Yet  bydys 
the  yerl  Douglas  upon  the  Beiit"  evidently  signifies,  "  Yet  the  earl 
Douglas  abides  in  the  Field:"  whereas  the  more  modern  bard 
seems  to  have  understood  by  Bent,  the  inclination  of  his  mind, 
and  accordingly  runs  quite  off  from  the  subject* : 

"  To  drive  the  deer  with  hound  and  horn 

Earl  Douglas  had  the  bent."  v.  109. 

One  may  also  observe  a  generous  impartiality  in  the  old  ori- 
ginal bard,  when  in  the  conclusion  of  his  tale  he  represents  both 
nations  as  quitting  the  field  without  any  reproachful  reflection  on 
either :  though  he  gives  to  his  own  countrymen  the  credit  of  being 
the  smaller  number. 

"  Of  fifteen  hundred  archers  of  England 

Went  away  but  fifty  and  three ; 
Of  twenty  hundred  spearmen  of  Scotland, 

But  even  five  and  fifty."  p.  32. 


*  In  the  present  Edition,  instead  of  the  unmeaning  lines  here 
censured,  an  insertion  is  made  of  four  stanzas  modernized  from  the 
ancient  copy. 


OF    CHEVY   CHACE.  251 

He  attributes  Flight  to  neither  party,  as  hath  been  done  in  the 
modem  copies  of  this  ballad,  as  well  Scotch  as  English.  For,  to 
be  even  ^vith  our  latter  bard,  who  makes  the  Scots  X.o  flee^  some  ' 
re\iser  of  North  Britain  has  turned  his  own  arms  against  him,  and 
printed  an  edition  at  Glasgow,  in  which  the  lines  are  thus  trans- 
posed : 

"Of  fifteen  hundred  Scottish  speirs 

Went  hame  but  fifty-three  : 
Of  twenty  hundred  Englishmen 

Scarce  fifty-five  did  flee." 

And  to  countenance  this  change  he  has  suppressed  the  two  stanzas 
between  ver.  240  and  ver.  249. — From  that  Fldition  I  have  here 
reformed  the  Scottish  names,  which  in  the  modern  English  ballad 
appeared  to  be  corrupted. 

When  I  call  the  present  admired  ballad  modern,  I  only  mean 
that  it  is  comparatively  so  ;  for  that  it  could  not  be  WTit  much 
later  than  the  time  of  Q.  Elizabeth,  I  think  may  be  made  appear  ; 
nor  yet  does  it  seem  to  be  older  than  the  beginning  of  the  last 
centur}'.*  Sir  Philip  Sidney,  when  he  complains  of  the  antiquated 
phrase  of  Chciy  Chase,  could  never  have  seen  this  improved  copy, 
the  language  of  which  is  not  more  ancient  than  that  he  himself 
used.  It  is  probable  that  the  encomiums  of  so  admired  a  writer 
excited  some  bard  to  revise  the  ballad,  and  to  free  it  from  those 
faults  he  had  objected  to  it.  That  it  could  not  be  much  later  than 
that  time,  appears  from  the  phrase  doleful  dumps :  which  in  that 
age  carried  no  ill  sound  -with  it,  but  to  the  next  generation  became 
ridiculous.  We  have  seen  it  pass  uncensured  in  a  sonnet  that  was 
at  that  time  in  request,  and  where  it  could  not  fail  to  have  been 


*  A  late  \\Titer  has  started  a  notion  that  the  more  modern  copy 
"  was  \\Titten  to  be  sung  by  a  party  of  English,  headed  by  a  Doug- 
las in  the  year  1524;  which  is  the  true  reason  why,  at  the  same 
time  that  it  gives  the  advantage  to  the  English  soldiers  above  the 
Scotch,  it  gives  yet  so  lovely  and  so  manifestly  superior  a  character 
to  the  Scotch  commander  above  the  English."  See  Sa/s  Essay  on 
tlie  Numbers  of  Paradise  Lost,  4to.  1745,  p.  167. 

This  appears  to  me  a  groundless  conjecture  :  the  language  seems 
too^modern  for  the  date  above-mentioned  ;  and,  had  it  been  jjrinted 
even  so  early  as  Queen  Elizabeth's  reign,  1  think  I  should  have 
met  with  some  copy  wherein  the  first  line  would  have  been, 

*'  God  prosper  long  our  noble  queen," 

as  was  the  case  with  the  Blind  Beggar  oi  Bednal  Green;  see  vol. 
ii.  book  ii.  No.  x.  ver.  23. 


252  MODERN   BALLAD 

taken  notice  of,  had  it  been  in  the  least  exceptionable  :  see  above, 
book  ii.  song  v.  ver.  2.  Yet,  in  about  half  a  century  after,  it  was 
become  burlesque.     Vide  Hudibras,  Part  I.  c.  3,  v.  95. 

This  much  premised,  the  reader  that  would  see  the  general 
beauties  of  this  ballad  set  in  a  just  and  striking  light,  may  consult 
the  excellent  criticism  of  Mr.  Addison.*  With  regard  to  its  subject : 
it  has  already  been  considered  in  page  20.  The  conjectures  there 
offered  will  receive  confirmation  from  a  passage  in  the  Me??ioirs  of 
Carey  Earl  of  Monmouth,  8vo.  1759,  p.  165  ;  whence  we  learn 
that  it  was  an  ancient  custom  with  the  borderers  of  the  two  king- 
doms, when  they  were  at  peace,  to  send  to  the  Lord  Wardens  of 
the  opposite  Marches  for  leave  to  hunt  within  their  districts.  If 
leave  was  granted,  then  towards  the  end  of  summer  they  would 
come  and  hunt  for  several  days  together  "with  \!ci.€ix grey-hotmds 
for  deer :  "  but  if  they  took  this  liberty  unpermitted,  then  the  Lord 
Warden  of  the  border  so  invaded,  would  not  fail  to  interrupt  their 
sport  and  chastise  their  boldness.  He  mentions  a  remarkable  in- 
stance that  happened  while  he  was  Warden,  when  some  Scotch 
gentlemen  coming  to  hunt  in  defiance  of  him,  there  must  have 
ensued  such  an  action  as  this  of  Chevy  Chace,  if  the  intruders  had 
been  proportionably  numerous  and  well-armed;  for,  upon  their 
being  attacked  by  his  men  at  arms,  he  tells  us,  "  some  hurt  was 
done,  tho'  he  had  given  especiall  order  that  they  should  shed  as 
little  blood  as  possible."  They  were  in  effect  overpowered  and  taken 
prisoners,  and  only  released  on  their  promise  to  abstain  from  such 
licentious  sporting  for  the  future. 

Since  the  former  impression  of  these  volumes  hath  been  pub- 
lished, a  new  edition  of  Collins'' s  Peerage,  1779,  &c.,  9  Vols.  8vo. 
which  contains,  in  volume  ii.  p.  334,  an  historical  passage,  which 
may  be  thought  to  throw  considerable  hght  on  the  subject  of  the 
preceding  ballad  :  viz. 

"In' this  .  .  .  year,  1436,  according  to  Hector  Boethius,  was 
fought  the  Battle  of  Pepperden,  not  far  from  the  Cheviot  Hills, 
between  the  Earl  of  Northumberland  (lid  Earl,  son  of  Hotspur,) 
and  Earl  William  Douglas,  of  Angus,  Avith  a  small  army  of  about 
four  thousand  men  each,  in  which  the  latter  had  the  advantage. 
As  this  seems  to  have  been  a  private  conflict  between  these  two 
great  chieftains  of  the  Borders,  rather  than  a  national  war,  it  has 
been  thought  to  have  given  rise  to  the  celebrated-  old  Ballad  of 
Chevy-Chase;  which,  to  render  it  more  pathetic  and  interesting, 
has  been  heightened  with  tragical  incidents  wholly  fictitious."  See 
RidpatKs  Border  Hist.  4to,  p.  401.  - 

The  following  text  is  given  from  a  copy  in  the  Editor's  folio  MS. 


In  the  Spectator,  Nos.  70,  74. 


OF    CHEVY    CHACE.  253 

compared  \nth  two  or  three  others  printed  in  black-letter. — In  the 
second  volume  of  Drydcti's  Misailanics  may  be  found  a  translation 
of  Chevy-Chace  into  Latin  rhymes.  The  translator,  Mr.  Henry 
Bold,  of  New  College,  undertook  it  at  the  command  of  Dr.  Comjv 
ton,  bishop  of  London ;  wlio  thought  it  no  derogation  to  his  epis- 
copal character,  to  avow  a  fondness  for  this  excellent  old  ballad. 
See  the  preface  to  Bald's  Latin  Songs,  1685,  8vo. 

[The  folloA\'ing  version  varies  in  certain  particulars  from  the  one 
in  the  MS.  folio  (ed.  Hales  and  Furnivall,  1867,  vol.  ii.  p.  i),  and 
the  most  important  variations  are  noted  at  the  foot  of  the  page. 
Some  of  the  alterations  in  the  arrangement  of  the  words  are  im- 
provements, but  others  are  the  reverse,  for  instance  verses  129-132. 
Percy  follows  the  copy  printed  in  the  Collection  of  Old  Ballads, 
1723  (vol.  i.  p.  108),  much  more  closely  than  the  MS.] 


OD  prosper  long  our  noble  king, 
Our  lives  and  safetyes  all ! 
A  woefull  hunting-  once  there  did 
In  Chevy-Chace  befall ; 

To  drive  the  deere  with  hound  and  home,         s 

Erie  Percy  took  his  way  ; 
The  child  may  rue  that  is  unborne, 

The  hunting  of  that  day. 

The  stout  Erie  of  Northumberland 

A  vow  to  God  did  make,  10 

His  pleasure  in  the  Scottish  woods 

Three  summers  days  to  take  ; 

The  cheefest  harts  in  Chevy-Chace 

To  kill  and  beare  away. 
These  tydings  to  Erie  Douglas  came,  15 

In  Scottland  where  he  lay  : 


[Vcr.  3.  there  was,  f.  MS.  V.  6.  took  the  way,  f.  MS.  ] 


254  MODERN   BALLAD 

Who  sent  Erie  Percy  present  word, 

He  wold  prevent  his  sport. 
The  English  Erie,  not  fearing  that, 

Did  to  the  woods  resort  20 

With  fifteen  hundred  bow-men  bold ; 

All  chosen  men  of  might, 
Who  knew  full  well  in  time  of  neede 

To  ayme  their  shafts  arright. 

The  gallant  greyhounds  swiftly  ran,  25 

To  chase  the  fallow  deere  : 
On  munday  they  began  to  hunt. 

Ere  day-light  did  appeare  ; 

And  long  before  high  noone  they  had 

An  hundred  fat  buckes  slaine  ;  30 

Then  having  dined,  the  drovyers  went 
To  rouze  the  deare  againe. 

The  bow-men  mustered  on  the  hills, 

Well  able  to  endure  ; 
Theire  backsides  all,  with  speciall  care,  35 

That  day  were  guarded  sure. 

The  hounds  ran  swiftly  through  the  woods. 
The  nimble  deere  to  take,* 

Ver.  36.  That  they  were,  f.  MS. 

*  The  Chiviot  Hills  and  circumjacent  wastes  are  at  present  void 
of  deer,  and  almost  stript  of  their  woods  :  but  formerly  they  had 
enough  of  both  to  justify  the  description  attempted  here  and  in 
the  Ancient  Ballad  of  Chevy-Chase.  Leland,  in  the  reign  of  Hen. 
VIH.  thus  describes  this  county:  "In  Northumberland,  as  I  heare 
say,  be  no  Forests,  except  Chivet  Hills  ;  where  is  much  Brushe- 
Wood^  and  some  Okke ;  Grownde  ovargrowne  with  Linge,  and 
some  with  Mosse.  I  have  harde  say  that  Chivet  Hilles  stretchethe 
XX  miles.  There  is  greate  Plente  oi  Redde-Dere,  and  Roo-Bukkes." 
Itin.  vol.  vii.  page  56. — This  passage,  which  did  not  occur  when 
pages  40,  42  were  printed  off,  confirms  the  accounts  there  given  of 
the  Stagge  and  the  Roe. 


OF   CHEVY   CHACE.  255 


That  with  their  cr^^es  the  hills  and  dales 
An  eccho  shrill  did  make. 


40 


Lord  Percy  to  the  quarry  ^  went, 

To  view  the  slaughter'd  deere  ; 
Quoth  he,  Erie  Douglas  promised 

This  day  to  meet  me  heere  : 

But  if  I  thought  he  wold  not  come,  45 

Noe  longer  wold  I  stay. 
With  that,  a  brave  younge  gentleman 

Thus  to  the  Erie  did  say  : 

Loe,  yonder  doth  Erie  Douglas  come, 

His  men  in  armour  bright ;  50 

Full  twenty  hundred  Scottish  speres 
All  marching  in  our  sight ; 

All  men  of  pleasant  Tivydale, 
Fast  by  the  river  Tweede  : 

0  cease  your  sports,  Erie  Percy  said,  55 
And  take  your  bowes  with  speede  ; 

And  now  with  me,  my  countrymen. 

Your  courage  forth  advance  ; 
For  there  was  never  champion  yett, 

In  Scotland  or  in  F" ranee,  60 

That  ever  did  on  horsebacke  come, 
But  if  my  hap'^  it  were, 

1  durst  encounter  man  for  man, 
With  him  to  break  a  spere. 

Erie  Douglas  on  his  milke-white  stecde,  65 

Most  like  a  baron  bold. 
Rode  formost  of  his  company, 

Whose  armour  shone  like  <^old. 

[Vcr.  42.  the  tender  deere,  f.  MS. 
'  slaughtered  game.  -  fortune] 


256  MODERN   BALLAD 

Show  me,  sayd  hee,  whose  men  you  bee, 

That  hunt  soe  boldly  heere,  70 

That,  without  my  consent,  doe  chase 
And  kill  my  fallow-deere. 

The  first  man  that  did  answer  make. 

Was  noble  Percy  hee  ; 
Who  sayd.  Wee  list  not  to  declare,  75 

Nor  shew  whose  men  wee  bee  : 

Yet  wee  will  spend  our  deerest  blood, 

Thy  cheefest  harts  to  slay. 
Then  Douglas  swore  a  solempne  oathe, 

And  thus  in  rage  did  say,  80 

Ere  thus  I  will  out-braved  bee. 

One  of  us  two  shall  dye  : 
I  know  thee  well,  an  erle  thou  art ; 

Lord  Percy,  soe  am  I. 

But  trust  me,  Percy,  pittye  it  were,  85 

And  great  offence  to  kill 
Any  of  these  our  guiltlesse  men. 

For  they  have  done  no  ill. 

Let  thou  and  I  the  battell  trye, 

And  set  our  men  aside.  90 

Accurst  bee  [he],  Erie  Percy  sayd, 

By  whome  this  is  denyed. 

Then  stept  a  gallant  squier  forth, 

Witherington  was  his  name. 
Who  said,  I  wold  not  have  it  told  95 

To  Henry  our  king  for  shame, 

That  ere  my  captaine  fought  on  foote. 

And  I  stood  looking  on. 
You  bee  two  erles,  sayd  Witherington, 

And  I  a  squier  alone  :  100 

[Ver.  92.  it  is,  f.  MS.     V.  98.  I  stand,  f.  MS.] 


OF    CHEVY    CHACE.  257 

He  doe  the  best  that  doe  I  may, 

While  I  have  power  to  stand  : 
While  I  have  power  to  weeld  my  sword, 

He  fieht  with  hart  and  hand. 


105 


no 


Our  English  archers  bent  their  bowes, 
Their  harts  were  orood  and  trew ; 

Att  the  first  flio-ht  of  arrowes  sent, 
Full  four-score  Scots  they  slew. 

*[Yet  bides  Earl  Douglas  on  the  bent/ 

As  Chieftain  stout  and  crood. 
As  valiant  Captain,  all  unmov'd 

The  shock  he  firmly  stood. 

His  host  he  parted  had  in  three, 

As  Leader  ware  and  try'd, 
As  soon  his  spearmen  on  their  foes  115 

Bare  down  on  every  side. 

Throughout  the  English  archery 

They  dealt  full  many  a  wound  : 
But  still  our  valiant  Englishmen 

All  firmly  kept  their  ground  :  120 

And  throwing  strait  their  bows  away, 
They  grasp'd  their  swords  so  bright : 

And  now  sharp  blows,  a  heavy  shower, 
On  shields  and  helmets  light.] 

*  The  4  stanzas  here  inclosed  in  brackets,  which  are  borrowed 
chiefly  from  the  ancient  copy,  are  offered  to  the  reader  instead  of 
the  following  lines,  which  occur  in  the  Editor's  folio  MS. 

To  drive  the  deere  with  hound  and  home, 

Douglas  bade  on  the  bent ; 
Two  captaines  moved  with  mickle  might 

Their  speres  to  shivers  went. 

[Vcr.  105.  bend  their  bowes,  f.  MS. 

1  f^eld.] 
S 


258  MODERN   BALLAD 

They  closed  full  fast  on  everye  side,  125 

Noe  slacknes  there  was  found; 
And  many  a  gallant  gentleman 

Lay  gasping  on  the  ground. 

O  Christ !  it  was  a  griefe  to  see, 

And  likewise  for  to  heare,  *    130 

The  cries  of  men  lying  in  their  gore, 

And  scattered  here  and  there. 

At  last  these  two  stout  erles  did  meet, 

Like  captaines  of  great  might : 
Like  lyons  wood,^  they  layd  on  lode,  135 

And  made  a  cruell  fieht : 


"t5' 


They  fought  untill  they  both  did  sweat, 

With  swords  of  tempered  Steele  ; 
Until  the  blood,  like  drops  of  rain. 

They  trickling  downe  did  feele.  140 

Yeeld  thee,  O  Percy,  Douglas  sayd  ; 

In  faith  I  will  thee  bringe. 
Where  thou  shalt  high  advanced  bee 

By  James  our  Scottish  king : 

Thy  ransome  I  will  freely  give,  14.5 

And  this  report  of  thee, 
Thou  art  the  most  couragious  knight, 

That  ever  I  did  see. 


[Ver.  129-132.  This  stanza  in  the  MS.  is  far  superior  to  the  poor  I 

one  in  the  text. 

"  O  Christ !  it  was  great  greeve  to  see 

how  eche  man  chose  his  spere 
and  how  the  blood  out  of  their  brests 

Did  gush  like  water  cleare." 

1  furious.] 


OF   CHEVY    CHACE. 


259 


Noe,  Douglas,  quoth  Erie  Percy  then, 

Thy  proffer  I  doe  scorne ;  150 

I  will  not  yeelde  to  any  Scott, 
That  ever  yett  was  borne. 

With  that,  there  came  an  arrow  keene 

Out  of  an  English  bow. 
Which  struck  Erie  Douglas  to  the  heart,        155 

A  deepe  and  deadlye  blow  : 

Who  never  spake  more  words  than  these, 

Fight  on,  my  merr}^  men  all ; 
For  why,  my  life  is  at  an  end ; 

Lord  Percy  sees  my  fall.  160 

Then  leaving  liffe,  Erie  Percy  tooke 

The  dead  man  by  the  hand  ; 
And  said,  Erie  Douglas,  for  thy  life 

Wold  I  had  lost  my  land. 

O  Christ !  my  verry  hart  doth  bleed  165 

With  sorrow  for  thy  sake  ; 
For  sure,  a  more  redoubted  knight 

Mischance  cold  never  take. 

A  knight  amono^st  the  Scotts  there  was, 

Which  saw  Erie  Douglas  dye,  170 

Who  streight  in  wrath  did  vow  revenge 
Upon  the  Lord  Percye  : 

Sir  Hugh  Mountgomery  was  he  call'd, 

Who,  with  a  spere  most  bright, 
Well-mounted  on  a  gallant  steed,  175 

Ran  fiercely  through  the  fight ; 


[Ver.  155.  who  scorkc  Eric  Douglas  on  the  brcst,  f.  MS. 
V.  157.  who  never  say d,  f.  MS.  V.  163.  who  said,  Erie  Dowglas, 
for  thy  sake,  f.  MS.  | 


26o  MODERN   BALLAD 

And  past  the  English  archers  all, 

Without  all  dread  or  feare ; 
And  through  Earl  Percyes  body  then 

He  thrust  his  hateful!  spere ;  iSo 

With  such  a  vehement  force  and  might 

He  did  his  body  gore, 
The  staff  ran  through  the  other  side 

A  large  cloth-yard,  and  more. 

So  thus  did  both  these  nobles  dye,  185 

Whose  courage  none  could  staine  : 

An  English  archer  then  perceiv'd 
The  noble  erle  was  slaine  ; 

He  had  a  bow  bent  in  his  hand, 

Made  of  a  trusty  tree  ;  190 

An  arrow  of  a  cloth-yard  long 

Up  to  the  head  drew  hee  : 

Against  Sir  Hugh  Mountgomerye, 

So  right  the  shaft  he  sett, 
The  grey  goose-winge  that  was  thereon,  195 

In  his  harts  bloode  was  wett.  ' 

This  fight  did  last  from  breake  of  day, 

Till  setting  of  the  sun  ; 
For  when  they  rung  the  evening-bell,* 

The  battel  scarce  was  done.  200 

With  stout  Erie  Percy,  there  was  slaine 
Sir  John  of  Egerton,f 

*  Sc.  the  Curfew  bell,  usually  rung  at  8  o'clock,  to  which  the 
moderniser  apparently  alludes,  instead  of  the  "Evensong  Bell,"  or 
Bell  for  vespers,  of  the  original  author  before  the  Reformation. 
See  p.  31,  Ver.  97. 

f  For  the  surnames,  see  the  Notes  at  the  end  of  the  ballad. 

[Ver.  189.  he  had  a  good  bow  in  his  hand,  f.  MS.  V.  192.  to 
the  hard  head  haled  hee,  f.  MS.] 


OF    CHEVY    CHACE.  261 

Sir  Robert  RatcUff,  and  Sir  John, 
Sir  James  that  bold  barren  : 

And  with  Sir  George  and  stout  Sir  James,      205 

Both  knights  of  good  account, 
Good  Sir  Ralph  Raby  there  was  slaine, 

Whose  prowesse  did  surmount. 

For  Witherington  needs  must  I  wayle, 

As  one  in  doleful  dumpes  ;  *  210 

For  when  his  leggs  were  smitten  off, 
He  fought  upon  his  stumpes. 

And  with  Erie  Douglas,  there  was  slaine 

Sir  Hugh  Mountgomerye, 
Sir  Charles  Murray,  that  from  the  feeld  215 

One  foote  wold  never  flee. 

Sir  Charles  Murray,  of  Ratcliff,  too. 

His  sisters  sonne  was  hee  ; 
Sir  David  Lamb,  so  well  esteem'd. 

Yet  saved  cold  not  bee.  220 

And  the  Lord  Maxwell  in  like  case 

Did  with  Erie  Douglas  dye  : 
Of  twenty  hundred  Scottish  speres. 

Scarce  fifty-five  did  llye. 

Of  fifteen  hundred  Englishmen,  225 

Went  home  but  fifty-three ; 
The  rest  were  slaine  in  Chevy-Chase, 

Under  the  grecne  woode  tree. 


[Ver.  203.  Sir  Robert  Harcliffe  and  Sir  William,  f.  MS.  V.  215.  Sir 
Charles  Morrcll,  f.  MS.  V.  217.  Sir  Roger  Hcvcr,  of  Ilarclille, 
f.  MS.     V,  219.  Sir  David  LambwcU  well  esteem'd. J 

*  i.e.  "I,  as  one  in  deep  concern,  must  lament."  The  con- 
.slruction  here  has  generally  been  misunderstood.  The  old  MS. 
reads  "toofull  dumpes." 


262  MODERN    BALLAD 

Next  day  did  many  widdowes  come, 

Their  husbands  to  bewayle  ;  230 

They  washt  their  wounds  in  brinish  teares, 
But  all  wold  not  prevayle. 

Theyr  bodyes,  bathed  in  purple  gore, 

They  bare  with  them  away  : 
They  kist  them  dead  a  thousand  times,  235 

Ere  they  were  cladd  in  clay. 

The  newes  was  brought  to  Eddenborrow, 
Where  Scottlands  king  did  raigne. 

That  brave  Erie  Douglas  suddenlye 

Was  with  an  arrow  slaine  :  240 

0  heavy  newes,  King  James  did  say, 
Scottland  may  witnesse  bee, 

1  have  not  any  captaine  more 

Of  such  account  as  hee. 

Like  tydings  to  King  Henry  came,  245 

Within  as  short  a  space. 
That  Percy  of  Northumberland 

Was  slaine  in  Chevy-Chese  : 

-Isiow  God  be  with  him,  said  our  king, 

Sith  it  will  noe  better  bee  ;  250 

I  trust  I  have,  within  my  realme. 
Five  hundred  as  good  as  hee  : 

Yett  shall  not  Scotts  nor  Scotland  say, 

But  I  will  vengeance  take  : 
I'll  be  revenged  on  them  all,  255 

For  brave  Erie  Percyes  sake. 

This  vow  full  well  the  king  perform'd 

After,  at  Humbledowne ; 
In  one  day,  fifty  knights  were  slayne. 

With  lords  of  great  renowne  :  260 

[Ver.  233.  purple  blood,  f.  MS.] 


OF    CHEVY   CHACE.  263 

And  of  the  rest,  of  small  account, 

Did  many  thousands  dye  : 
Thus  endeth  the  hunting  of  Chevy-Chase, 

Made  by  the  Erie  Percy. 

God  save  our  king,  and  bless  this  land  265 

With  plentye,  joy,  and  peace  ; 
And  grant  henceforth,  that  foule  debate 

'Twixt  noblemen  may  cease. 


c£^^ 


The  surnames  in  the  foregoing  Ballad  are  altered,  either  by 
accident  or  design,  from  the  old  original  copy,  and  in  common 
editions  extremely  corrupted.  They  are  here  rectified,  as  much  as 
they  could  be.     Thus, 

Ver.  202,  Egcftivi.']  This  name  is  restored  (instead  of  Ogerion, 
com.  ed.)  from  the  Editor's  folio  MS.  The  pieces. in  that  MS. 
appear  to  have  been  collected,  and  many  of  them  composed 
(among  which  might  be  this  ballad)  by  an  inhabitant  of  Cheshire  ; 
who  was  willing  to  pay  a  compliment  here  to  one  of  his  countr)'- 
men,  of  the  eminent  family  De  or  Of  Egcrioti  (so  the  name  was 
first  written)  ancestors  of  the  present  Duke  of  Bridgwater :  and  this 
he  could  do  with  the  more  propriety,  as  the  Percics  had  fomierly 
great  interest  in  that  county.  At  the  fatal  battle  of  Shrewsbur}' 
all  the  flower  of  the  Cheshire  gentlemen  lost  their  lives  fighting  in 
the  cause  of  Hotspur. 

Ver.  203,  Ratcliff.'\  This  was  a  family  much  distinguished  in 
Northumberland.  Edw.  Raddiffc,  mil.  was  sherift"  of  that  count)' 
in  the  17  of  Hen.  VII.  and  others  of  the  same  surname  aftenvards. 
(See  Fuller^  p.  313.)  Sir  Gcotge  Ratdiff,  Knt.  was  one  of  the 
commissioners  of  inclosure  in  1552.  (See  Nidwlson,  p.  330.)  Of 
this  family  was  the  late  Earl  of  Dcrwentwatcr,  who  was  beheaded 
in  1 7 15.  The  Editor's  folio  MS.  however,  reads  here,  Sir  Robert 
Hardiffe  and  Sir  Williinn. 

'Vhcl/ardiys  were  an  eminent  family  in  Cumberland.  (See  Fuller, 
p.  224.)  Whether  this  may  be  thought  to  be  the  same  name,  I  do 
not  determine. 


[Ver.  262.  hundreds  dye,  f.  MS.] 


264    BALLAD    OF    CHEVY    CHACE. 

Ver.  204.  Baron^  This  is  apparently  altered,  (not  to  say  cor- 
rupted) from  Hearone,  in  p.  32,  ver.  114. 

Ver.  207.  Raby.~\  This  might  be  intended  to  celebrate  one  of 
the  ancient  possessors  of  Raby  Castle,  in  the  county  of  Durham. 
Yet  it  is  written  Rebbye,  in  the  fol.  MS.  and  looks  like  a  corruption 
oi  Rugby  or  Rokeby,  an  eminent  family  in  Yorkshire,  see  pp.  32,  52, 
It  will  not  be  wondered  that  the  Percies  should  be  thought  to  bring 
followers  out  of  that  county,  where  they  themselves  were  originally 
seated,  and  had  always  such  extensive  property  and  influence.* 

Ver.  215.  Murray. '\  So  the  Scottish  copy.  In  the  com.  edit, 
it  is  Carrel  or  Currel;  and  Morrell  in  the  fol.  MS. 

Ver.  217.  Murray.']  So  the  Scot.  edit. — The  common  copies 
read  Murrel.  The  fol.  MS.  gives  the  hne  in  the  following  peculiar 
manner, 

"  Sir  Roger  Heuer  of  Harcliffe  too." 

Ver.  219.  Lamb.']    The  folio  MS.  has 

"  Sir  David  Lambwell,  well  esteemed." 

This  seems  evidently  corrupted  from  Lwdale  or  Liddell,  in  the  old 
copy,  see  ver.  125.  (pp.  32,  52). 


II. 

DEATH'S    FINAL   CONQUEST. 


'  HESE  fine  moral  stanzas  were  originally  intended  for  a 
solemn  funeral  song,  in  a  play  of  James  Shirley's,  in- 
titled,  "The  Contention  of  Ajax  and  Ulysses :"t  no  date, 
8vo. — Shirley  flourished  as  a  dramatic  writer  early  in 

the  reign  of  Charles  I.  :  but  he  outlived  the  Restoration.     His 

death  happened  October  29,  1666.     Mx.  72. 


[*  See  note  controverting  the  above  on  p.  52. 

t  Acted  for  the  first  time  "  at  the  Military  Ground  in  Leicester 
Fields"  in  1659.] 


DEATH'S    FINAL    CONQUEST.      265 

This  little  poem  was  \\Titten  long  after  many  of  these  that  follow, 
but  is  inserted  here  as  a  kind  of  Dirge  to  the  foregoing  piece.  It 
is  said  to  have  been  a  favourite  song  with  K.  Charles  II.  [to  whom, 
according  to  Oldys,  it  was  often  sung  by  "  old  "  Bo^v^llan.] 


"^^^^^HE  orlories  of  our  birth  and  state 

'  '^  §^       "^^^  shadows,  not  substantial  things  ; 
n./'^'  ^"vj  There  is  no  armour  against  fate  : 
^^^^       Death  lays  his  icy  hands  on  kings  : 

Scepter  and  crown  5 

Must  tumble  down, 
And  in  the  dust  be  equal  made  ^ 

With  the  poor  crooked  scythe  and  s^Dade. 

Some  men  with  swords  may  reap  the  field, 

And  plant  fresh  laurels  where  they  kill  :        10 
But  their  strong  nerves  at  last  must  yield  ; 
They  tame  but  one  another  still. 
Early  or  late 

They  stoop  to  fate,  ' 

And  must  give  up  their  murmuring  breath,      15 
When  they  pale  captives  creep  to  death. 

The  garlands  wither  on  your  brow, 

Then  boast  no  more  your  mighty  deeds  ; 
Upon  death's  purple  altar  now 

See  where  the  victor  victim  bleeds  :  »o 

All  heads  must  come 
To  the  cold  tomb. 
Only  the  actions  of  the  just 
Smell  sweet,  and  blossom  in  the  dust. 


266  THE    RISING 


III. 
THE    RISING    IN    THE    NORTH. 

'HE  subject  of  this  ballad  is  the  great  Northern  Insur- 
rection in  the  12th  year  of  Elizabeth,   1569;  which 
proved  so  fatal  to  Thomas  Percy,  the  seventh  Earl  of 
.«™^^,  Northumberland. 

There  had  not  long  before  been  a  secret  negotiation  entered  into 
between  some  of  the  Scottish  and  English  nobihty,  to  bring  about 
a  marriage  between  Mary  Q.  of  Scots,  at  that  time  a  prisoner  in 
England,  and  the  Duke  of  Norfolk,  a  nobleman  of  excellent  cha- 
racter, and  firmly  attached  to  the  Protestant  religion.  This  match 
was  proposed  to  all  the  most  considerable  of  the  English  nobility, 
and  among  the  rest  to  the  Earls  of  Northumberland  and  West- 
moreland, two  noblemen  very  powerful  in  the  North.  As  it  seemed 
to  promise  a  speedy  and  safe  conclusion  of  the  troubles  in  Scotland, 
with  many  advantages  to  the  crown  of  England,  they  all  consented 
to  it,  provided  it  should  prove  agreeable  to  Q.  EUzabeth.  The 
Earl  of  Leicester  (Elizabeth's  favourite)  undertook  to  break  the 
matter  to  her,  but  before  he  could  find  an  opportunity,  the_  affair 
had  come  to  her  ears  by  other  hands,  and  she  was  thrown  into  a 
violent  flame.  The  Duke  of  Norfolk,  with  several  of  his  friends, 
was  committed  to  the  Tower,  and  summons  were  sent  to  the 
Northern  Earls  instantly  to  make  their  appearance  at  court.  It  is 
said  that  the  Earl  of  Northumberland,  who  was  a  man  of  a  mild 
and  gentle  nature,  was  dehberating  with  himself  whether  he  should 
not  obey  the  message,  and  rely  upon  the  queen's  candour  and 
clemency,  when  he  was  forced  into  desperate  measures  by  a 
sudden  report  at  midnight,  Nov.  14,  that  a  party  of  his  enemies 
were  come  to  seize  on  his  person.*  The  Earl  was  then  at  his 
house  at  Topcliffe  in  Yorkshire.  When  rising  hastily  out  of  bed, 
he  withdrew  to  the  Earl  of  Westmoreland,  at  Brancepeth,  where 
the  country  came  in  to  them,  and  pressed  them  to  take  arms  in 
their  own  defence.  They  accordingly  set  up  their  standards,  de- 
claring their  intent  was  to  restore  the  ancient  religion,  to  get  the 
succession  of  the  crown  firmly  settled,  and  to  prevent  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  ancient  nobiUty,  &c.     Their   common  bannerf    (on 

*  This  circumstance  is  overlooked  in  the  ballad, 
t  Besides  this,  the  ballad  mentions  the  separate  banners  of  the 
two  noblemen. 


IN    THE    NORTH.  267 

which  was  displayed  the  cross,  togedier  with  the  five  wounds  of 
Christ)  was  borne  by  an  ancient  gentleman,  Ricliard  Norton,  Esq., 
of  Norton-cony ers ;  who,  with  his  sons  (among  whom,  Christopher, 
Mamiaduke,  and  Thomas,  are  expressly  named  by  Camden),  dis- 
tinguished himself  on  this  occasion.  Having  entered  Durham, 
they  tore  the  Bible,  &c.,  and  caused  mass  to  be  said  there :  they 
then  marched  on  to  Clifford-moor  near  \\'etherbye,  where  they  mus- 
tered their  men.  Their  intention  was  to  have  proceeded  on  to  York, 
but,  altering  their  minds,  they  fell  upon  Barnard's  castle,  which 
Sir  George  Bowes  held  out  against  them  for  eleven  days.  The 
two  earls,  who  spent  their  large  estates  in  hospitality,  and  were  ex- 
tremely beloved  on  that  account,  were  masters  of  little  ready 
money ;  the  E.  of  Northumberland  bringing  with  him  only  8000 
crowns,  and  the  E.  of  Westmoreland  nothing  at  all  for  the  sub- 
sistence of  their  forces,  they  were  not  able  to  march  to  London,  as 
they  had  at  tirst  intended.  In  these  circumstances,  Westmoreland 
began  so  visibly  to  despond,  that  many  of  his  men  slunk  away, 
tho'  Northumberland  still  kept  up  his  resolution,  and  was  master 
of  the  field  till  December  13,  when  the  Earl  of  Sussex,  accompanied 
with  Lord  Hunsden  and  others,  having  marched  out  of  York  at 
the  head  of  a  large  body  of  forces,  and  being  followed  by  a  still 
larger  army  under  the  command  of  Ambrose  Dudley,  Earl  of  War- 
wick, the  insurgents  retreated  northward  towards  the  borders,  and 
there  dismissing  their  followers,  made  their  escape  into  Scotland. 
Tho'  this  insurrection  had  been  suppressed  with  so  little  bloodshed, 
the  Earl  of  Sussex  and  Sir  George  Bowes,  marshal  of  the  army,  put 
vast  numbers  to  death  by  martial  law,  without  any  regular  trial. 
The  former  of  these  caused  sixty-three  constables  to  be  hanged  at 
once.  And  the  latter  made  his  boast,  that,  for  sixty  miles  in  length, 
and  forty  in  breadth,  betwixt  Newcastle  and  \Vetherby,  there  was 
hardly  a  town  or  village  wherein  he  had  not  executed  some  of 
the  inhabitants.  This  exceeds  the  cruelties  practised  in  the  West 
after  Monmouth's  rebellion  :  but  that  was  not  the  age  of  tenderness 
and  humanity. 

Such  is  the  account  collected  from  Stow,  Speed,  Camden,  Guth- 
rie, Carte,  and  Rapin  ;  it  agrees  in  most  particulars  with  the 
following  ballad,  which  was  apparently  the  production  of  some 
northern  minstrel,  who  was  well  affected  to  the  two  noblemen.  It  is 
here  printed  from  two  MS.  copies,  one  of  them  in  the  Editor's  folio 
collection.  They  contained  considerable  variations,  out  of  which 
such  readings  were  chosen  as  seemed  most  poetical  and  consonant 
to  history. 

[The  Northern  Rebellion  of  1569  has  been  nobly  commemorated 
in  verse.  Besides  the  two  following  ballads  there  is  the  one  entitled 
the  Earlc  of  Westmorlande,  in  the  folio  MS.  which  was  printed  for 


268  THE    RISING  , 

the  first  time  in  1867,  and  also  Wordsworth's  matchless  poem  of 
the  White  Doe  of  Rylstone.  Those  readers  who  wish  for  further 
particulars  respecting^this  ill-starred  insurrection,  should  see  Mr. 
Hales's  interesting  introduction  to  the  Earl  of  Westmoreland  (Folio 
MS.,  ed.  Hales  and  Furnivall,  vol.  i.  p.  292). 

Percy  acknowledges  above  that  he  has  not  followed  the  folio  MS. 
very  closely,  and  his  variations  will  be  seen  by  comparing  his  ver- 
sion with  the  copy  now  printed  at  the  end.] 


ISTEN,  lively  lordings  all, 
Lithe  and  listen  unto  mee, 
And  I  will  sing  of  a  noble  earle, 

The  noblest  earle  in  the  north  countrie. 

Earle  Percy  is  into  his  garden  gone,  5 

And  after  him  walkes  his  faire  ladle  :* 

I  heard  a  bird  sing  in  mine  eare. 
That  I  must  either  fight,  or  flee. 

Now  heaven  forefend,  my  dearest  lord, 

That  ever  such  harm  should  hap  to  thee  :         10 

But  goe  to  London  to  the  court, 
And  faire  fall  truth  and  honestie. 

Now  nay,  now  nay,  my  ladye  gay, 

Alas !  thy  counsell  suits  not  mee  ; 
Mine  enemies  prevail  so  fast,  15 

That  at  the  court  I  may  not  bee. 

O  goe  to  the  court  yet,  good  my  lord. 
And  take  thy  gallant  men  with  thee  : 

If  any  dare  to  doe  you  wrong, 

Then  your  warrant  they  may  bee.  ^o 


*  This  lady  was  Anne,  daughter  of  Henry  Somerset,    E.    of 
Worcester. 


IN    THE    NORTH.  269 

Now  nay,  now  nay,  thou  lady  faire, 

The  court  is  full  of  subtiltie  ; 
And  if  I  goe  to  the  court,  lady, 

Never  more  I  may  thee  see. 

Yet  goe  to  the  court,  my  lord,  she  sayes,  25 

And  I  myselfe  will  ryde  wi'  thee : 
At  court  then  for  my  dearest  lord, 

His  faithfull  borrowe'  I  will  bee 

Now  nay,  now  nay,  my  lady  deare : 

Far  lever'^  had  I  lose  my  life,  30 

Than  leave  among  my  cruell  toes 

JMy  love  in  jeopardy  and  strife. 

But  come  thou  hither,  my  little  foot-page. 

Come  thou  hither  unto  mee, 
To  maister  Norton  thou  must  goe    ,  35 

In  all  the  haste  that  ever  may  bee. 

Commend  me  to  that  gentleman, 
And  beare  this  letter  here  fro  mee ; 

And  say  that  earnestly  I  praye, 

He  will  ryde  in  my  companie.  40 

One  while  the  little  foot-page  went, 

And  another  while  he  ran  ; 
Untill  he  came  to  his  journeys  end, 

The  little  foot-page  never  blan.'* 

When  to  that  gentleman  he  came,  45 

Down  he  kneeled  on  his  knee  ; 
And  tooke  the  letter  betwixt  his  hands, 

And  lett  the  gentleman  it  see. 

And  when  the  letter  it  was  redd 

7\ftore  that  goodl)'e  compan^-e,  50 

I  wis,  if  you  the  truthe  wold  know, 

Tlierc  was  many  a  weeping  eye. 

['  surety.  -  rather.  ^  lingered.] 


2  70  THE    RISING 

He  sayd,  Come  thither,  Christopher  Norton, 
A  gallant  youth  thou  seemst  to  bee ; 

What  doest  thou  counsell  me,  my  sonne,  55 

Now  that  good  erle's  in  jeopardy  ? 

Father,  my  counselle's  fair  and  free ; 

That  erle  he  is  a  noble  lord, 
And  whatsoever  to  him  you  hight, 

I  wold  not  have  you  breake  your  word.  60 

Gramercy,  Christopher,  my  sonne, 

Thy  counsell  well  it  liketh  mee. 
And  if  we  speed  and  scape  with  life, 

Well  advanced  shalt  thou  bee. 

Come  you  hither,  my  nine  good  sonnes,*  65 

Gallant  men  I  trowe  you  bee : 
How  many  of  you,  my  children  deare, 

Will  stand  by  that  good  erle  and  mee  ? 

Eight  of  them  did  answer  make, 

Eight  of  them  spake  hastllie,  70 

O  father,  till  the  daye  we  dye 

We'll  stand  by  that  good  erle  and  thee. 

Gramercy  now,  my  children  deare. 

You  showe  yourselves  right  bold  and  brave  ; 

And  whethersoe'er  I  live  or  dye,  75 

A  fathers  blessing  you  shal  have. 

But  what  sayst  thou,  O  Francis  Norton, 
Thou  art  mine  eldest  sonn  and  heire  : 

Somewhat  lyes  brooding  in  thy  breast ; 

Whatever  it  bee,  to  mee  declare.  80 


*  ["  The  Act  of  Attainder  13th  Elizabeth,  only  mentions 
Richard  Norton,  the  father  and  seven  sons,  and  in  '  a  list  of  the 
rebels  in  the  late  northern  rebellion,  that  are  fled  beyond  the  seas,' 
the  same  seven  sons  are  named.  Richard  Norton,  the  father, 
was  living  long  after  the  rebellion  in  Spanish  Flanders.  See 
Sharp's  BisJwprick  Garland,  p.  lo." — Child's  Eng.  and  Scot. 
Ballads,  Vol.  7,  p.  87  (note).] 


IN    THE    NORTH.  271 

Father,  you  are  an  aged  man, 

Your  head  is  white,  your  bearde  is  gray  ; 
It  were  a  shame  at  these  your  yeares 

For  you  to  ryse  in  such  a  fray. 

Now  fye  upon  thee,  coward  Francis,  85 

Thou  never  learnedst  this  of  mee : 

When  thou  wert  yong  and  tender  of  age. 
Why  did  I  make  soe  much  of  thee  ? 

But,  father,  I  will  wend  with  you, 

Unarm'd  and  naked  will  I  bee  ;  90 

And  he  that  strikes  against  the  crowne, 

Ever  an  ill  death  may  he  dee. 

Then  rose  that  reverend  gentleman, 
And  with  him  came  a  goodlye  band 

To  join  with  the  brave  Erie  Percy,  95 

And  all  the  flower  o'  Northumberland. 

With  them  the  noble  Nevill  came. 
The  erle  of  Westmorland  was  hee  : 

At  Wetherbye  they  mustred  their  host, 

Thirteen  thousand  faire  to  see.  loo 

Lord  Westmorland  his  ancyent^  raisde, 

The  Dun  Bull  he  rays'd  on  hye. 
And  three  DoQfs  with  orolden  collars 

Were  there  sett  out  most  royallye.* 

*  Ver.  102.  Dun  Bull,  &'cl\  The  supporters  of  the  Na'ilks, 
Earls  of  Westmoreland,  were  Two  Bulls  Argent,  ducally  collar'd 
Gold,  armed  Or,  ik.c.  But  I  have  not  discovered  the  device  men- 
tioned in  the  ballad,  among  the  badges,  <S:c.  given  by  that  house. 
This,  however,  is  certain,  that  among  those  of  the  Aa'illfs,  Lords 
Abergavenny  (who  were  of  the  same  family)  is  a  Dun  Ccnv  with  a 
golden  Collar :  and  the  NtTtllcs  of  Chyte  in  Yorkshire  (of  the 
Westmoreland  branch)  gave  for  their  crest,  in  15 13,  a  Doi^'s  (CJrey- 

\}  standard.] 


272  THE   RISING 

Erie  Percy  there  his  ancyent  spred,  105 

The  Halfe-Moone  shining  all  soe  faire  :  * 

The  Nortons  ancyent  had  the  crosse, 

And  the  five  wounds  our  Lord  did  beare. 

Then  Sir  George  Bowes  he  straitwaye  rose, 

After  them  some  spoyle  to  make :  no 

Those  noble  erles  turn'd  backe  againe, 
And  aye  they  vowed  that  knight  to  take. 


hound's)  Head  erased.  So  that  it  is  not  improbable  but  Charles 
Neville,  the  unhappy  Earl  of  Westmoreland  here  mentioned,  might 
on  this  occasion  give  the  above  device  on  his  banner.  After  all 
our  old  minstrel's  verses  here  may  have  undergone  some  cor- 
ruption ;  for,  in  another  Ballad  in  the  same  folio  MS.  and  appa- 
rently written  by  the  same  hand,  containing  the  sequel  of  this 
Lord  Westmoreland's  history,  his  banner  is  thus  described,  more 
conformable  to  his  known  bearings : 

"  Sett  me  up  my  faire  Dun  Bull, 

With  Gilden  Homes,  hee  beares  all  soe  hye." 

*  Ver.  106.  Tlie  Half-Moone,  dN^.]  The  Silver  Crescent  is  a 
well-known  crest  or  badge  of  the  Northumberland  family.  It  was 
probably  brought  home  from  some  of  the  Cruzades  against  the 
Sarazens.  In  an  ancient  Pedigree  in  verse,  finely  illuminated  on 
a  roll  of  vellum,  and  written  in  the  reign  of  Henry  VII.  (in  pos- 
session of  the  family)  we  have  this  fabulous  account  given  of  its 
original.  The  author  begins  with  accounting  for  the  name  of 
Gernon  or  Algernon,  often  born  by  the  Percies ;  who,  he  says,  were 

"  .  .  .  .  Gernons  fyrst  named  of  Brutys  blonde  of  Troy  : 
Which  valHantly  fyghtynge  in  the  land  of  Perse  \Persia\ 
At  pointe  terrible  ayance  the  miscreants  on  nyght. 
An  hevynly  mystery  was  schewyd  hym,  old  bookys  reherse  ; 
In  hys  scheld  did  schyne  a  Mone  veryfying  her  lyght, 
Which  to  all  the  ooste  yave  a  perfytte  fyght. 
To  vaynquys  his  enemys,  and  to  deth  them  persue ; 
And  therefore  the  Perses  [Percies]  the  Cressant  doth  renew." 

in  the  dark  ages  no  family  was  deemed  considerable  that  did  not 
derive  its  descent  from  the  Trojan  Brutus;  or  that  was  not  dis- 
tinguished by  prodigies  and  miracles. 


IN    THE    NORTH.  273 

The  baron  he  to  his  castle  fled, 

To  Barnard  castle  then  fled  hee. 
The  uttermost  walles  were  eathe^  to  win,         115 

The  earles  have  wonne  them  presentlie. 

The  uttermost  walles  were  lime  and  bricke  ; 

But  thoughe  they  won  them  soon  anone, 
Long  e'er  they  wan  the  innermost  walles, 

For  they  were  cut  in  rocke  of  stone.  120 

Then  newes  unto  leeve'^  London  came 
In  all  the  speede  that  ever  might  bee, 

And  word  is  brought  to  our  royall  queene 
Of  the  rysing  in  the  North  countrie. 

Her  grace  she  turned  her  round  about,  125 

And  like  a  royall  queene  shee  swore,'" 

I  will  ordayne  them  such  a  breakfast. 
As  never  was  in  the  North  before. 

Shee  caus'd  thirty  thousand  men  berays'd, 
With  horse  and  harneis '  faire  to  see  ;  130 

She  caused  thirty  thousand  men  be  raised, 
To  take  the  earles  i'th'  North  countrie. 

\Vi'  them  the  false  Erie  Warwick  went, 
Th'  erle  Sussex  and  the  lord  Hunsden  ; 

Untill  they  to  Yorke  castle  came  13s 

I  wiss,  they  never  stint  ne  blan.'* 

Now  spred  thy  ancyent,  Westmorland, 
Thy  dun  bull  faine  would  we  spye : 

And  thou,  the  Erie  o'  Northumberland, 

Now  rayse  thy  half  moone  up  on  hye.  140 


*  This  is  quite  in  character  :  her  majesty  would  sometimes  swear 
at  her  nobles,  as  well  as  box  their  ears. 

[1  easy.         -  dear.  ^  armour.  *  lingered.] 


274  THE    RISING 

But  the  dun  bulle  is  fled  and  gone, 
And  the  halfe  moone  vanished  away  : 

The  Erles,  though  they  were  brave  and  bold, 
Against  soe  many  could  not  stay. 

Thee,  Norton,  wi'  thine  eight  good  sonnes,     14.5 
They  doom'd  to  dye,  alas  !  for  ruth  ! 

Thy  reverend  lockes  thee  could  not  save. 
Nor  them  their  faire  and  blooming  youthe. 

Wi'  them  full  many  a  gallant  wight 

They  cruellye  bereav'd  of  life  :  150 

And  many  a  childe  made  fatherlesse. 
And  widowed  many  a  tender  wife. 


HE  following  version  of  this  ballad  is  from  the  Folio  MS. 
(ed.  Hales  and  Furnivall,  1867,  vol.  ii.  p.  210.) 

Listen  liuely  lordings  all, 

and  all  that  beene  this  place  within  ! 
if  youle  giue  eare  vnto  my  songe, 

I  will  tell  you  how  this  geere  did  begin.  4 

It  was  the  good  Erie  of  Westmorlande, 

a  noble  Erie  was  called  hee  ; 
and  he  wrought  treason  against  the  crowne  ; 

alas,  itt  was  the  more  pittye  !  8 

and  soe  itt  was  the  Erie  of  Northumberland, 

another  good  Noble  Erie  was  hee, 
they  tooken  both  Vpon  on  part, 

against  their  crowne  they  wolden  bee.  .  12 

Earle  Pearcy  is  into  his  garden  gone, 

and  after  walks  his  awne  ladye  ; 
"  I  heare  a  bird  sing  in  my  eare 

that  I  must  either  flight  or  ffiee."  16 


IN    THE    NORTH.  275 

"  God  ftbrbidd,"  shee  sayd,  "  good  my  Lord, 

that  euer  see  that  it  shalbee  ! 
but  goe  to  London  to  the  court, 

and  faire  ffall  truth  and  honestye  ! "  20 

"  but  nay,  now  nay,  my  Ladye  gay, 

that  euer  it  shold  soe  bee  ; 
my  treason  is  knowen  well  enoughe  ; 

att  the  court  I  must  not  bee."  24. 

"  but  goe  to  the  Court !  yet,  good  my  Lord, 

take  men  enowe  with  thee  ; 
if  any  man  will  doe  you  wronge, 

your  warrant  they  may  bee."  28 

"  but  nay,  now  nay,  my  Lady  gay, 

for  soe  itt  must  not  bee  ; 
If  I  goe  to  the  court,  Ladye, 

death  will  strike  me,  and  I  must  dye."  32 

"  but  goe  to  the  Court  !  yett,  [good]  my  Lord, 

I  my-selfe  will  ryde  Nvith  thee  ; 
if  any  man  will  doe  you  wronge, 

your  borrow  I  shalbee."  36 

"  but  nay,  now  nay,  my  Lady  gay, 

for  soe  it  must  not  bee  ; 
for  if  I  goe  to  the  Court,  Ladye, 

thou  must  me  neuer  see.  40 

"  but  come  hither,  thou  litle  footpage, 

come  thou  hither  vnto  mee, 
for  thou  shalt  goe  a  Message  to  Master  Norton 

in  all  the  hast  that  euer  may  bee  :  44 

"  comend  me  to  that  gentleman  ; 

bring  him  here  this  letter  from  mee, 
and  say,  '  I  pray  him  earnestlye 

that  hee  will  ryde  in  my  companye.'  "  48 

but  one  while  the  foote  page  went, 

another  while  he  rann  ; 
vntill  he  came  to  Master  Norton, 

the  ffoot  page  neuer  blanne  ;  52 

and  when  he  came  to  Master  Nortton, 

he  kneeled  on  his  knee, 
and  tooke  ilie  letter  betwixt  his  hands, 

and  lett  the  gentleman  it  see.  56 


2  76  THE    RISING  , 

and  when  the  letter  itt  was  reade 

afifore  all  his  companye, 
I-wis,  if  you  wold  know  the  truth, 

there  was  many  a  weeping  eye.  60 

he  said,  "  come  hither,  Kester  Nortton, 

a  ffine  ffellow  thou  seemes  to  bee ; 
some  good  councell,  Kester  Nortton, 

this  day  doe  thou  giue  to  mee."  64 

"  Marry,  lie  giue  you  councell,  ffather, 

if  youle  take  councell  att  me, 
that  if  you  haue  spoken  the  word,  father, 

that  backe  againe  you  doe  not  flee."  68 

"  god  amercy,  Christopher  Nortton, 

I  say,  god  amercye  ! 
if  I  doe  Hue  and  scape  with  liffe, 

well  advanced  shalt  thou  bee ;  72 

"but  come  you  hither,  my  nine  good  sonnes, 

in  mens  estate  I  thinke  you  bee ; 
how  many  of  you,  my  children  deare, 

on  my  part  that  wilbe  ?"  76 

but  eight  of  them  did  answer  soone, 

and  spake  ffull  hastilye, 
sayes  "we  willbe  on  your  part,  ffather, 

till  the  day  that  we  doe  dye."  80 

"  but  god  amercy,  my  children  deare, 

and  euer  I  say  god  amercy  ! 
and  yett  my  blessing  you  shall  have, 

whether-so  euer  I  Hue  or  dye.  84 

-"  but  what  sayst  thou,  thou  fifrancis  Nortton, 
mine  eldest  sonne  and  mine  heyre  trulye  ? 

some  good  councell,  ffrancis  Nortton, 

this  day  thou  giue  to  me."  88 

"  but  I  will  giue  you  councell,  ffather, 

if  you  will  take  councell  att  mee ; 
for  if  you  wold  take  my  councell,  father, 

against  the  crowne  you  shold  not  bee."  92 

"  but  ffye  vpon  thee,  ffrancis  Nortton ! 

I  say  ffye  vpon  thee  ! 
when  thou  was  younge  and  tender  of  age 

I  made  ffull  much  of  thee."  96 


IN    THE    NORTH. 


- 1 1 


"  but  your  head  is  white,  ftather,"  he  sayes, 

"  and  your  beard  is  wonderous  gray ; 
itt  were  shame  ftbr  your  countrye 

if  you  shold  rise  and  fflee  away."  loo 

"but  ffye  vpon  thee,  thou  coward  fifrancis ! 

thou  neuer  tookest  that  of  mee  ! 
when  thou  was  younge  and  tender  of  age 

I  made  too  much  of  thee."  104 

"but  I  ^vill  goe  with  you,  father,"  Quoth  hee  ; 

"  like  a  naked  man  will  I  bee ; 
he  that  strikes  the  first  stroake  against  the  crowne, 

an  ill  death  may  hee  dye  !  "  ic3 

but  then  rose  vpp  Master  Nortton  that  Esquier, 

with  him  a  hull  great  companye  ; 
and  then  the  Erles  they  comen  downe 

to  ryde  in  his  companye.  "2 

att  whethersbye  the  mustered  their  men 

vpon  a  ffuU  fayre  day ; 
13000  there  were  scene 

to  stand  in  battel  ray.  i '  6 

the  Erie  of  Westmoreland,  he  had  in  his  ancyeni 

the  Dume  bull  in  sight  most  hye, 
and  3  doggs  with  golden  collers 

were  sett  out  royallye.  120 

the  Erie  of  Northumberland,  he  had  in  his  ancyent 

the  halfe  moone  in  sight  soe  hye, 
as  the  Lord  was  crucifyed  on  the  crosse, 

and  sett  forthe  pleasantlye,  «:4 

and  after  them  did  rise  good  Sir  George  Bowes, 

after  them  a  spoyle  to  make ; 
the  Erles  returned  backe  againe, 

thought  euer  that  Knight  to  take.  n^ 

this  Barron  did  take  a  Castle  then, 

was  made  of  lime  and  stone  ; 
the  vttcrmost  walls  were  ese  to  be  woon  ; 

the  Erles  haue  woon  them  anon ;  '3^ 

but  tho  they  woone  the  vttcrmost  walls 

quickly  and  anon, 
the  innermost  walles  th(^  cold  not  winn, 

the  were  made  of  a  rocke  of  stone.  '3<^ 


278       RISING    IN    THE    NORTH.      > 

but  newes  itt  came  to  leeue  London 
in  all  they  speede  that  euer  might  bee  ; 

and  word  it  came  to  our  royall  Queene 

of  all  the  rebells  in  the  north  countrye.  14° 

shee  turned  her  grace  then  once  about, 
and  like  a  royall  Queene  shee  sware, 

sayes,  "  I  will  ordaine  them  such  a  breake-fast 

as  was  not  in  the  North  this  1000  yeere  !  "  144 

shee  caused  30000  men  to  be  made 
with  horsse  and  harneis  all  quicklye  ; 

and  shee  caused  30000  men  to  be  made 

to  take  the  rebells  in  the  North  countrye.  148 

they  took  with  them  the  false  Erie  of  Warwicke, 

soe  did  they  many  another  man  ; 
vntill  they  came  to  yorke  Castle, 

I-wis  they  neuer  stinted  nor  blan.  1 5^ 

"  spread  thy  ancyent,  Erie  of  Westmoreland  ! 

The  halfe  moone  ffaine  wold  wee  see ! " 
but  the  halfe  moone  is  fled  and  gone, 

and  the  Dun  bull  vanished  awaye ;  156 

and  ffrancis  Nortton  and  his  8  sonnes 

are  filed  away  most  cowardlye. 

Ladds  with  mony  are  counted  men 

men  without  mony  are  counted  none  ;  160 

but  hold  your  tounge  !  why  say  you  soe  ? 

men  wilbe  men  when  mony  is  gone. 

ffins.] 


2  79 


IV. 

NORTHUMBERLAND    BETRAYED    BY 

DOUGLAS. 

HIS  ballad  may  be  considered  as  the  sequel  of  the  pre- 
ceding. After  the  unfortunate  Earl  of  Northumberland 
f^^^  had  seen  himself  forsaken  of  his  followers,  he  en- 
deavoured to  withdraw  into  Scotland,  but  falling  into 
the  hands  of  the  thievish  borderers,  was  stript  and  otherwise  ill- 
treated  by  them.  At  length  he  reached  the  house  of  Hector,  of 
Harlaw,  an  Armstrong,  with  whom  he  hoped  to  lie  concealed  :  for, 
Hector  had  engaged  his  honour  to  be  true  to  him,  and  was  under 
great  obligations  to  this  unhappy  nobleman.  But  this  faithless 
WTCtch  betrayed  his  guest  for  a  sum  of  money  to  Murray  the  Re- 
gent of  Scotland,  who  sent  him  to  the  castle  of  Lough-leven,  then 
belonging  to  William  Douglas.  All  the  writers  of  that  time  assure 
us  that  Hector,  who  was  rich  before,  fell  shortly  after  into  poverty, 
and  became  so  infamous,  that  to  take  Hector's  cloak,  grew  into  a 
proverb  to  express  a  man  who  betrays  his  friend.  See  Camden, 
Carleton,  Holinshed,  &:c. 

Lord  Northumberland  continued  in  the  castle  of  Lough-leven 
till  the  year  1572  ;  when  James  Douglas,  Earl  of  Morton,  being 
elected  Regent,  he  was  given  up  to  the  Lord  Hunsden  at  Benvick, 
and  being  carried  to  York  suffered  death.  As  Morton's  party  de- 
pended on  Elizabeth  for  protection,  an  elegant  historian  thinks 
"  it  was  scarce  possible  for  them  to  refuse  putting  into  her  hands 
a  person  who  had  taken  up  arms  against  her.  But,  as  a  sum  of 
money  was  paid  on  that  account,  and  shared  between  Morton  and 
his  kinsman  Douglas,  the  former  of  whom,  during  his  exile  in 
England,  had  been  much  indebted  to  Northumberland's  friendship, 
the  abandoning  this  unhappy  nobleman  to  inevitable  destniction 
was  deemed  an  ungrateful  and  mercenary  act."    Robertson's  Hist. 

So  far  history  coincides  with  this  ballad,  which  was  a])parently 
written  by  some  Northern  bard  soon  after  the  event.  The  inter- 
posal of  the  witch-lady  (v.  53)  is  probably  his  own  invention  :  yet, 
even  this  hath  some  countenance  from  history  ;  for  about  25  years 
before,  the  Lady  Jane  Douglas,  Lady  Glamis,  sister  of  the  earl  of 
Angus,  and  nearly  related  to  Douglas  of  Lough-leven,  had  suffered 


28o  NORTHUMBERLAND 

death  for  the  pretended  crime  of  witchcraft ;  who,  it  is  presumed, 
is  the  Witch-lady  aUuded  to  in  verse  133. 

The  following  is  selected  (like  the  former)  from  two  copies, 
which  contained  great  variations ;  one  of  them  in  the  Editor's  folio 
MS.  In  the  other  copy  some  of  the  stanzas  at  the  beginning  of 
this  Ballad  are  nearly  the  same  with  what  in  that  MS.  are  made  to 
begin  another  Ballad  on  the  escape  of  the  E.  of  Westmoreland, 
who  got  safe  into  Flanders,  and  is  feigned  in  the  ballad  to  have 
undergone  a  great  variety  of  adventures. 

[Percy  wrote  the  following  note  on  the  version  of  this  ballad  in 
his  foHo  MS.  "To  correct  this  by  my  other  copy  which  seems 
more  modern.  The  other  copy  in  many  parts  preferable  to  this." 
It  will  be  seen  by  comparing  the  text  with  the  foHo  MS.  copy,  now 
printed  at  the  end,  that  the  alterations  are  numerous.  The  first 
three  stanzas  are  taken  with  certain  changes  from  the  ballad  of 
"  The  Erie  of  Westmoreland  "  (Folio  MS.  vol.  i.  p.  300).  The 
alterations  made  in  them  are  not  improvements,  as,  for  instance, 
the  old  reading  of  verse  2  is — 

"  And  keepe  me  heare  in  deadlye  feare,"    . 

which  is  preferable  to  the  Hne  below — 

"  And  harrowe  me  with  fear  and  dread."] 


OW  long  shall  fortune  faile  me  nowe, 

And  harrowe  ^  me  with  fear  and  dread  ? 
How  long  shall  I  in  bale^  abide, 
In  misery  my  life  to  lead  ? 

To  fall  from  my  bliss,  alas  the  while  !  s 

It  was  my  sore  and  heavy e  lott : 
And  I  must  leave  my  native  land, 

And  I  must  live  a  man  forgot. 

One  gentle  Armstrong  I  doe  ken, 

A  Scot  he  is  much  bound  to  mee  :  10 

He  dwelleth  on  the  border  side, 

To  him  I'll  goe  right  privilie. 

"  \}  harass.  ^  evil.] 


»s 


BETRAYED    BY   DOUGLAS.      28 1 

Thus  did  the  noble  Percy  'plaine, 
\\\\\\  a  heavy  heart  and  wel-awa)-, 

When  he  with  all  his  orallant  men 
On  Bramham  moor  had  lost  the  da}-. 

But  when  he  to  the  Armstrongs  came, 
They  dealt  with  him  all  treacherouslye  ; 

For  they  did  strip  that  noble  earle  : 

And  ever  an  ill  death  may  they  dye.  20 

False  Hector  to  Earl  Murray  sent, 

To  shew  him  where  his  cfuest  did  hide  : 

Who  sent  him  to  the  Louirh-leven, 
With  William  DouMas  to  abide. 

And  when-  he  to  the  Douglas  came,  as 

He  halched'  him  riofht  curteouslie  : 

Say'd,  Welcome,  welcome,  noble  earle. 
Here  thou  shalt  safelye  bide  with  mee. 

When  he  had  in  Lou^di-leven  been 

Many  a  month  and  many  a  day ;  30 

To  the  regent*  the  lord  warden f  sent. 

That  bannisht  earle  for  to  betray. 


He  offered  him  great  store  of  gold, 

And  wrote  a  letter  fair  to  see  :  / 

Saying,  Good  my  lord,  grant  me  my  boon,       35 

And  yield  that  banisht  man  to  mee. 

Earle  Percy  at  the  supper  sate 

With  many  a  goodly  gentleman  : 
The  wylie  Douglas  then  bespake, 

And  thus  to  fiyte"^  with  him  began  :  40 


*  James  Douglas,  Earl  of  Morton,  elected  regent  of  Scotland 
.N'ovember  24,  1572. 

t  Of  one  of  the  English  marches.     Lord  Hunsdcn. 

(/  saluted.  "^  contend.] 


\ 


282  NORTHUMBERLAND 

What  makes  you  be  so  sad,  my  lord, 
And  in  your  mind  so  sorrowfullye  ? 

To-morrow  a  shootinge  will  bee  held 
Among  the  lords  of  the  North  countrye. 

The  butts  are  sett,  the  shooting's  made,  45 

And  there  will  be  great  royaltye  : 

And  I  am  sworne  into  my  bille,^ 
Thither  to  bring  my  lord  Percye. 

I'll  give  thee  my  hand,  thou  gentle  Douglas, 
And  here  by  my  true  faith,  quoth  hee,  50 

If  thou  wilt  ryde  to  the  worldes  end, 
I  will  ryde  in  thy  companye. 

And  then  bespake  a  lady  faire, 

Mary  a  Douglas  was  her  name  : 
You  shall  byde  here,  good  English  lord,  55 

My  brother  is  a  traiterous  man. 

He  is  a  traitor  stout  and  stronge, 

As  I  tell  you  in  privitie  : 
For  he  hath  tane  liverance"^  of  the  erle,* 

Into  England  nowe  to  'liver  thee.  60 

Now  nay,  now  nay,  thou  goodly  lady, 

The  regent  is  a  noble  lord  : 
Ne  for  the  gold  in  all  England, 

The  Douglas  wold  not  break  his  word. 

When  the  regent  was  a  banisht  man,  65 

With  me  he  did  faire  welcome  find  ; 

And  whether  weal  or  woe  betide, 
I  still  shall  find  him  true  and  kind. 

*  Of  the  Earl  of  Morton,  the  Regent. 
['  sworn  in  writing.         ^  money  for  deUvering  you  up.] 


BETRAYED    BY   DOUGLAS.     28 


o 


Betweene  England  and  Scotland  it  wold  breake  truce, 
And  friends  againe  they  wold  never  bee,  70 

If  they  shold  'liver  a  banisht  erle 
Was  driven  out  of  his  own  countrie. 

Alas  !  alas  !  my  lord,  she  sayes, 

Nowe  mickle  is  their  traitorie  ; 
Then  lett  my  brother  ryde  his  wayes,  75 

And  tell  those  English  lords  from  thee, 

How  that  you  cannot  with  him  ryde, 
Because  you  are  in  an  ile  of  the  sea,* 

Then  ere  my  brother  come  againe 

To  Edenborow  castle  f  Ile  carry  thee.  80 

To  the  Lord  Hume  I  will  thee  bring, 

He  is  well  knowne  a  true  Scots  lord, 
And  he  will  lose  both  land  and  life, 

Ere  he  with  thee  will  break  his  word. 

Much  is  my  woe,  Lord  Percy  sayd,  85 

When  I  thinki'e  on  my  own  countrie. 
When  I  thinke  on  the  heavye  happe' 

My  friends  have  suffered  there  for  mee. 

Much  is  my  woe.  Lord  Percy  sayd, 

And  sore  those  wars  my  minde  distresse  ;  90 

Where  many  a  widow  lost  her  mate. 

And  many  a  child  was  fatherlesse. 

And  now  that  I  a  banisht  man, 

Shold  bring  such  evil  happe  with  mee. 

To  cause  my  faire  and  noble  friends  95 

To  be  suspect  of  treacherie  : 

•  /.  €.  Lake  of  Leven,  which  hath  communication  with  the  sea. 
t  At  that  time  in  the  hands  of  the  opposite  faction. 

['  fortune.] 


284  NORTHUMBERLAND 

This  rives  ^  my  heart  with  double  woe ; 

And  lever  had  I  dye  this  day, 
Than  thinke  a  Douglas  can  be  false, 

Or  ever  he  will  his  guest  betray.  loo 

If  you'll  give  me  no  trust,  my  lord. 

Nor  unto  mee  no  credence  yield ; 
Yet  step  one  moment  here  aside. 

He  showe  you  all  your  foes  in  field. 

Lady,  I  never  loved  witchcraft,  105 

Never  dealt  in  privy  wyle ; 
But  evermore  held  the  high-waye 

Of  truth  and  honour,  free  from  guile. 

If  you'll  not  come  yourselfe  my  lorde, 

Yet  send  your  chamberlaine  with  mee;  no 

Let  me  but  speak  three  words  with  him, 

And  he  shall  come  again  to  thee. 

James  Swynard  with  that  lady  went, 

She  showed  him  through  the  weme"  of  her  ring 
How  many  English  lords  there  were  ns 

Waitine  for  his  master  and  him. 


'i> 


And  who  walkes  yonder,  my  good  lady, 

So  royallye  on  yonder  greene  ? 
O  yonder  is  the  lord  Hunsden  :* 

Alas  !  he'll  doe  you  drie  and  teene.'  120 

And  who  beth  yonder,  thou  gay  ladye. 

That  walkes  so  proudly  him  beside  ? 
That  is  Sir  William  Drury,t  shee  sayd, 

A  keene  captaine  hee  is  and  tryde. 

*  The  Lord  Warden  of  the  East  marches, 
t  Governor  of  Berwick. 

\}  rends.  ^  hollow.  ^  ill  and  injury.] 


BETRAYED    BY   DOUGLAS.      2S5 

How  many  miles  is  itt,  madamc,  125 

Betwixt  )-ond  English  lords  and  mee  ? 

Marry  it  is  thrice  fifty  miles, 
To  saile  to  them  upon  the  sea. 

I  never  was  on  English  ground, 

Ne  never  sawe  it  with  mine  eye,  130 

But  as  my  book  it  sheweth  mee, 

And  through  my  ring  I  may  descrye. 

My  mother  shee  was  a  witch  ladye. 
And  of  her  skille  she  learned^  mee  ; 

She  wold  let  me  see  out  of  Lough-leven  135 

What  they  did  in  London  citie. 

But  who  is  yond,  thou  lady  faire, 

That  looketh  with  sic  an  austerne^  face  ? 

Yonder  is  Sir  John  Foster,*  quoth  shee, 

Alas  !  he'll  do  ye  sore  disgrace.  140 

He  pulled  his  hatt  down  over  his  browe ; 

He  wept;  in  his  heart  he  was  full  of  woe  : 
And  he  is  gone  to  his  noble  Lord, 

Those  sorrowful  tidino-s  him  to  show. 


t>' 


Now  nay,  now  nay,  good  James  Swynard,       £+5  ^ 
I  may  not  believe  that  witch  ladle  :  ^J 

The  Douglasses  were  ever  true, 

And  they  can  ne'er  prove  false  to  mee. 

I  have  now  in  Lou^h-leven  been 

The  most  part  of  these  years  three,  150 

Yett  have  I  never  had  noe  outrake,^ 

Ne  no  good  games  that  I  cold  see. 


♦  Warden  of  the  Middle-march. 
[•  taught.         -  austere.         ^  an  outride  or  expedition.] 


286  NORTHUMBERLAND 

Therefore  I'll  to  yond  shooting  wend, 
As  to  the  Douglas  I  have  hight :  ^ 

Betide  me  weale,  betide  me  woe,  15s 

He  ne'er  shall  find  my  promise  light. 

He  writhe^  a  gold  ring  from  his  finger, 

And  gave  itt  to  that  gay  ladle  : 
Sayes,  It  was  all  that  I  cold  save. 

In  Harley  woods  where  I  cold  bee.*  160 

And  wilt  thou  goe,  thou  noble  lord, 
Then  farewell  truth  and  honestie  ; 

And  farewell  heart  and  farewell  hand  ; 
For  never  more  I  shall  thee  see. 

The  wind  was  faire,  the  boatmen  call'd,  165 

And  all  the  saylors  were  on  borde ; 

Then  William  Douglas  took  to  his  boat. 
And  with  him  went  that  noble  lord. 

Then  he  cast  up  a  silver  wand, 

Says,  Gentle  lady,  fare  thee  well !  170 

The  lady  fett^  a  sigh  soe  deep, 

And  in  a  dead  swoone  down  shee  fell. 

Now  let  us  goe  back,  Douglas,  he  sayd, 
A  sickness  hath  taken  yond  faire  ladle ; 

If  ought  befall  yond  lady  but  good,  175 

Then  blamed  for  ever  I  shall  bee. 

Come  on,  come  on,  my  lord,  he  sayes ; 

Come  on,  come  on,  and  let  her  bee : 
There's  ladyes  enow  in  Lough-leven 

For  to  cheere  that  gay  ladle.  180 


*  /.  e.  Where  I  was.     An  ancient  idiom. 
[^  promised.  ^  twisted.  ^  fetched.] 


BETRAYED    BY   DOUGLAS.     2S7 

If  you'll  not  turne  yourself,  my  lord, 

Let  me  goe  with  my  chamberlaine  ; 
We  will  but  comfort  that  faire  lady, 

And  wee  will  return  to  you  againe. 

Come  on,  come  on,  my  lord,  he  sayes,  185 

Come  on,  come  on,  and  let  her  bee  : 

My  sister  is  craftye,  and  wold  beguile 
A  thousand  such  as  you  and  mee. 

When  they  had  sayled  *  fifty  myle, 

Now  fifty  mile  upon  the  sea  ;  190 

Hee  sent  his  man  to  ask  the  Douglas, 

When  they  shold  that  shooting  see. 

Faire  words,  quoth  he,  they  make  fooles  faine,' 
And  that  by  thee  and  thy  lord  is  seen  : 

You  may  hap'^  to  thinke  itt  soone  enough,  195 

Ere  you  that  shooting  reach,  I  ween. 

Jamye  his  hatt  pulled  over  his  browe. 
He  thought  his  lord  then  was  betray'd ; 

And  he  is  to  Erie  Percy  againe. 

To  tell  him  what  the  Douglas  sayd.  200 

Hold  upp  thy  head,  man,  quoth  his  lord  ; 

Nor  therefore  lett  thy  courage  fayle, 
He  did  it  but  to  prove  thy  heart, 

To  see  if  he  cold  make  it  quail. 

When  they  had  other  fifty  sayld,  205 

Other  fifty  mile  upon  the  sea, 
Lord  Percy  called  to  Douglas  himselfe, 

Sayd,  What  wilt  thou  nowe  doe  with  mee  ? 


*  There  is  no  navigable  stream  between  Lough-Leven  and  the 
sea :  but  a  ballad-maker  is  not  obliged  to  understand  geography. 

['  glad.  2  chance.] 


288  NORTHUMBERLAND 

Looke  that  your  brydle  be  wight/  my  lord, 
And  your  horse  goe  swift  as  shipp  att  sea : 

Looke  that  your  spurres  be  bright  and  sharpe, 
That  you  may  pricke  her  while  she'll  away. 

What  needeth  this,  Douglas,  he  sayth ; 

What  needest  thou  to  flyte^  with  mee  ? 
For  I  was  counted  a  horseman  g-ood 

Before  that  ever  I  mett  with  thee. 


21 


A  false  Hector  hath  my  horse, 

Who  dealt  with  mee  so  treacherouslie  : 

A  false  Armstrong  hath  my  spurres. 

And  all  the  geere  belongs  to  mee.  220 

When  they  had  sayled  other  fifty  mile, 

Other  fifty  mile  upon  the  sea ; 
They  landed  low  by  Berwicke  side, 

A  deputed  '  laird '  landed  Lord  Percye. 

Then  he  at  Yorke  was  doomde  to  dye,  225 

It  was,  alas !  a  sorrowful  sight : 
Thus  they  betrayed  that  noble  earle. 

Who  ever  was  a  orallant  wio^ht. 

Ver.  224.  Fol.  MS.  reads  land,  and  has  not  the  following  stanza. 
\}  strong.  2  contend.] 


BETRAYED   BY   DOUGLAS,      2S9 


HE  following  version  of  the  Betrayal  of  Northumberland 
is  from  the  Folio  MS.  (ed.  Hales  and  Fumivall,  vol.  ii. 
p.  218.) 

Now  list  and  lithe  you  gentlemen, 

and  1st  tell  you  the  veret}e, 
how  they  haue  delt  with  a  Vanished  man, 

driuen  ou»:  of  his  countrye.  4 

when  as  hee  came  on  Scottish  ground 

as  woe  and  wonder  be  them  amonge, 
ffuU  much  was  there  traitorye 

the  wrought  the  Erie  of  Northumberland.  8 

when  they  were  att  the  supper  sett, 

beffore  many  goodly  gentlemen 
the  ftell  a  fflouting  and  mocking  both, 

and  said  to  the  Erie  of  Northumberland,  iz 

"  What  makes  you  be  soe  sad,  my  Lord, 

and  in  your  mind  soe  sorrowfifuUye  ? 
in  the  North  of  Scotland  to-morrow  theres  a  shooting, 

and  thither  thoust  goe,  my  Lord  Percye.  i6 

"  the  buttes  are  sett,  and  the  shooting  is  made, 

and  there  is  like  to  be  great  royaltye, 
and  I  am  sworne  into  my  bill 

thither  to  bring  ray  Lord  Pearcy."  to 

"He  giue  thee  my  land,  Douglas,"  he  sayes, 

"and  be  the  faith  in  my  bodye, 
if  that  thou  wilt  ryde  to  the  worlds  end, 

He  ryde  in  thy  companye."  24 

and  then  bespake  the  good  Ladye, — 

Marry  a  Douglas  was  her  name, — 
"  you  shall  byde  here,  good  English  Lord  ; 

my  brother  is  a  traiterous  man  ;  28 

"  he  is  a  traitor  stout  and  stronge, 

as  1st  tell  you  the  veretye, 
for  he  hath  tanc  liuerance  of  the  Erie, 

and  into  England  he  will  liuor  thee."  y- 

"Now  hold  thy  toungc,  thou  goodlye  Ladye, 

and  let  all  this  talking  bee  ; 
ffor  all  the  gold  thats  in  Loug  Leucn, 

william  wold  not  Liuor  mee  !  '-^ 

U 


290  NORTHUMBERLAND 

"  it  wold  breake  truce  betweene  England  &  Scottland, 

and  friends  againe  they  wold  neuer  bee 
if  he  shold  liuor  a  bani[s]ht  Erie 

was  driuen  out  of  his  owne  countrye."  40 

"  hold  your  tounge,  my  Lord,"  shee  sayes, 
"  there  is  much  fifalsehood  them  amonge; 

when  you  are  dead,  then  they  are  done, 

soone  they  will  part  them  friends  againe.  44 

"  if  you  will  giue  me  any  trust,  my  Lord, 

He  tell  you  how  you  best  may  bee  ; 
youst  lett  my  brother  ryde  his  wayes, 

and  tell  those  English  Lords  trulye  48 

"  how  that  you  cannot  with  them  ryde 

because  you  are  in  an  lie  of  the  sea, 
then,  ere  my  Brother  come  againe, 

to  Edenborrow  castle  He  carry  thee,  52- 

"  lie  liuor  you  vnto  the  Lord  Hume, 

and  you  know  a  trew  Scothe  Lord  is  hee, 

for  he  hath  lost  both  Land  and  goods 

in  ayding  of  your  good  bodye."  56 

"  Marry  !  I  am  woe  !  woman,"  he  sayes, 

"  that  any  freind  fares  worse  for  mee ; 
for  where  one  saith  '  it  is  a  true  tale,' 

then  two  will  say  it  is  a  Lye.  60 

"when  I  was  att  home  in  my  [reahne] 

amonge  my  tennants  all  trulye, 
in  my  time  of  losse,  wherin  my  need  stoode, 

they  came  to  ayd  me  honestlye  ;  64 

*'  therfore  I  left  many  a  child  ffatherlese, 

and  many  a  widdow  to  looke  wanne  ; 
and  therfore  blame  nothing,  Ladye, 

but  the  woefifull  warres  which  I  began."  68 

"  If  you  will  giue  me  noe  trust,  my  Lord, 

nor  noe  credence  you  will  give  mee, 
and  youle  come  hither  to  my  right  hand, 

indeed,  my  Lord,  He  lett  you  see."  7^ 

saies,  *'  I  neuer  loued  noe  witchcraft, 

nor  neuer  dealt  with  treacherye, 
but  euermore  held  the  hye  way ; 

alas  !  that  may  be  scene  by  mee  !  "  76 


BETRAYED    BY   DOUGLAS.      291 

"  if  you  will  not  come  your  selfe,  my  Lord, 
youle  lett  your  chamberlaine  goe  with  mee, 

three  words  that  I  may  to  him  speake, 

and  soone  he  shall  come  againe  to  thee."  80 

when  James  SA\'}Tiard  came  that  Lady  before, 
shee  let  him  see  thorrow  the  weme  of  her  ring 

how  many  there  was  of  English  lords 

to  wayte  there  for  his  Master  and  him.  84 

"  but  who  beene  yonder,  my  good  Ladye, 
that  walkes  soe  royallye  on  yonder  greene  ?  '' 

"  yonder  is  Lord  Hunsden,  Jamye,"  she  saye ; 

"  alas  !  heele  doe  you  both  tree  and  teene  !"  88 

"  and  who  beene  yonder,  thou  gay  Ladye, 

that  walkes  soe  royallye  him  beside  ?  " 
"  yond  is  Sir  William  Drurye,  Jamy,"  shee  sayd, 

*'  and  a  keene  Captain  hee  is,  and  tryde."  93 

"  how  many  miles  is  itt,  thou  good  Ladye, 

betvvixt  yond  English  Lord  and  mee  ?  " 
"marry  thrise  fifty  mile,  Jamy,"  shee  sayd, 

"  and  euen  to  seale  and  by  the  sea  :  96 

"  I  neuer  was  on  English  ground, 

nor  neuer  see  itt  with  mine  eye, 
but  as  my  witt  and  "vnsedome  serues, 

and  as  [the]  booke  it  telleth  mee.  ico 

"  my  mother,  shee  was  a  witch  woman, 

and  part  of  itt  shee  learned  mee ; 
shee  wold  let  me  see  out  of  Lough  Leuen 

what  they  dyd  in  London  cytye."  104 

"  but  who  is  yond,  thou  good  Layde, 

that  comes  yonder  with  an  Osterne  fface?" 

"  yonds  Sir  John  fforster,  Jamye,"  shee  sayd  ; 

"  methinks  thou  sholdest  better  know  him  then  I."      loS 
"  Euen  soe  I  doe,  my  goodlye  Ladye, 
and  euer  alas,  soe  woe  am  I ! " 

he  pulled  his  hatt  ouer  his  eyes, 

and,  lord,  he  wept  soe  tenderlye  !  112 

he  is  gone  to  his  ^Iaster  againe, 

and  euen  to  tell  him  the  veretye. 


292  NOR  THUMBERLAND 

"Now  hast  thou  beene  with  Marry,  Jamy,"  he  sayd, 

"  Euen  as  thy  tounge  will  tell  to  mee  ;  ii6 

but  if  thou  trust  in  any  womans  words, 
thou  must  refraine  good  companye." 

"  It  is  noe  words,  my  Lord,"  he  sayes, 

"  yonder  the  men  shee  letts  mee  see,  120 

how  many  English  Lords  there  is 

is  wayting  there  for  you  and  mee  ; 

"  yonder  I  see  the  Lord  Hunsden, 

and  hee  and  you  is  of  the  third  degree  ;  124 

a  greater  enemye,  indeed,  my  Lord, 

in  England  none  haue  yee," 

"  and  I  haue  beene  in  Lough  Leven 

the  most  part  of  these  yeeres  three  :  128 

yett  had  I  neuer  noe  out-rake, 

nor  good  games  that  I  cold  see  ; 

"  and  I  am  thus  bidden  to  yonder  shooting 

by  William  Douglas  all  trulye  ;  132 

therfore  speake  neuer  a  word  out  of  thy  mouth 
That  thou  thinkes  will  hinder  mee." 

then  he  writhe  the  gold  ring  of  his  ffingar 

and  gaue  itt  to  that  Ladye  gay ;  136 

sayes,  "  that  was  a  Legacye  left  vnto  mee 

in  Harley  woods  where  I  cold  bee." 

"  then  ffarewell  hart,  and  farewell  hand, 

and  fifarwell  all  good  companye  !  140 

that  woman  shall  neuer  beare  a  sonne 

shall  know  soe  much  of  your  privitye." 

"  now  hold  thy  tounge,  Ladye,"  hee  sayde, 

"  and  make  not  all  this  dole  for  mee,  144 

for  I  may  well  drinke,  but  1st  neuer  eate, 

till  againe  in  Lough  Leuen  I  bee." 

he  tooke  his  boate  att  the  Lough  Leuen 

for  to  sayle  now  ouer  the  sea,  148 

and  he  hath  cast  vpp  a  siluer  wand, 

saies  "  fare  thou  well,  my  good  Ladye  !  " 
the  Ladye  looked  ouer  her  left  sholder ; 

in  a  dead  swoone  there  fell  shee.  152 


BETRAYED    BY   DOUGLAS.      293 

"  goe  backe  againe,  Douglas  !  "  he  sayd, 

"  and  I  will  goe  in  thy  companye, 
for  sudden  sicknesse  yonder  Lady  has  tane, 

and  euer,  alas,  shee  will  but  dye!  156 

"  if  ought  come  to  yonder  Ladye  but  good, 

then  blamed  fore  that  I  shall  bee, 
because  a  banished  man  I  am, 

and  driuen  out  of  my  owne  countrye."  i6o 

"  come  on,  come  on,  my  Lord,"  he  sayes, 

"  and  lett  all  such  talking  bee  ; 
theres  Ladyes  enow  in  Lough  Leuen, 

and  for  to  cheere  yonder  gay  Ladye."  164 

"  and  you  will  not  goe  your  selfe,  my  Lord, 
you  will  lett  my  chamberlaine  goe  with  me  ; 

wee  shall  now  take  our  boate  againe, 

and  soone  wee  shall  ouertake  thee."  168 

"  come  on,  come  on,  my  Lord,"  he  sayes, 

"  and  lett  now  all  this  talking  bee ! 
Ifor  my  sister  is  craftye  enoughe 

for  to  beguile  thousands  such  as  you  and  mee."  172 

When  they  had  sayled  fifty  myle, 

now  fifty  mile  vpon  the  sea, 
hee  had  fforgotten  a  message  that  hee 

shold  doe  in  lough  Leuen  trulye :  176 

hee  asked  '  how  ftar  it  was  to  that  shooting, 

that  WiUiam  Douglas  promised  me.' 

now  faire  words  makes  fooles  faine  ; 

and  that  may  be  scene  by  thy  Master  and  thee  ;  i  So 

ffor  you  may  happen  think  itt  soone  enoughe 

when-euer  you  that  shooting  see." 

Jamye  pulled  his  hatt  now  ouer  his  browe  ; 

1  wott  the  teares  fell  in  his  eye ;  ii>4 

and  he  is  to  his  Master  againe, 

and  ffor  to  tell  him  the  veretye : 

he  sayes,  "  fayre  words  makes  fooles  faine, 

and  that  may  be  scene  by  you  and  mcc,  J  88 

ffor  wcc  may  happen  thinke  itt  soone  enoughe 

whcn-cuer  wee  that  shooting  see." 


294  NORTHUMBERLAND. 

"hold  vpp  thy  head,  Jamye,"  the  Erie  sayd, 

"  and  neuer  lett  thy  hart  fayle  thee  ;  192 

he  did  itt  but  to  prove  thee  with, 

and  see  how  thow  wold  take  with  death  trulye." 

when  they  had  sayled  other  fifty  mile, 

other  fifty  mile  vpon  the  sea,  196 

Lord  Peercy  called  to  him,  himselfe, 

and  sayd,  "  Douglas  what  wilt  thou  doe  with  mee  ?  " 

"  looke  that  your  brydle  be  wight,  my  Lord, 
that  you  may  goe  as  a  shipp  att  sea  ;  200 

looke  that  your  spurres  be  bright  and  sharpe, 
that  you  may  pricke  her  while  sheele  awaye." 

"  what  needeth  this,  Douglas,"  he  sayth. 

"  that  thou  needest  to  fifloute  mee  ?  204 

for  I  was  counted  a  horsseman  good 

before  that  euer  I  mett  with  thee. 

"  A  ffalse  Hector  hath  my  horsse ; 

and  euer  an  euill  death  may  hee  dye  !  208 

and  Willye  Armestronge  hath  my  spurres 

and  all  the  geere  belongs  to  mee." 

when  the  had  sayled  other  fifty  mile, 

other  fifty  mile  vpon  the  sea,  212 

the  landed  low  by  Bar\vicke  side ; 

a  deputed  land  Landed  Lord  Percy e. 

fiin[s]    ] 


V. 
MY   MIND   TO    ME    A   KINGDOM    IS. 

fHIS  excellent  philosophical  song  appears  to  have  been 
famous  in  the  sixteenth  century.     It  is  quoted  by  Ben 
Jonson  in  his  play  of  Every  Man  out  of  his  Huvioiir, 
first  acted  in  1599,  act   i.  sc.  i,  where  an  impatient 
person  says — 

"I  am  no  such  pil'd  cynique  to  believe 
That  beggery  is  the  onely  happinesse. 
Or,  with  a  number  of  these  patient  fooles, 
To  sing,  '  My  minde  to  me  a  kingdome  is,' 
When  the  lanke  hungrie  belly  barkes  for  foode." 


Jl/V   MIND    A    KINGDOM   IS.     295 

It  is  here  chiefly  printed  from  a  thin  quarto  Music  book,  intitled, 
"  Psalmes,  Sonets,  and  Songs  of  sadnes  and  pietie,  made  into 
Musicke  of  five  parts :  v\:c.  By  William  Eyrd,  one  of  the  Gent,  of 
the  Queenes  Majesties  honorable  Chappell. — Printed  by  Thomas 
East,  &c."  4to.  no  date  :  but  Ames  in  his  Typo^:;.  has  mentioned 
another  edit,  of  the  same  book,  dated  15SS,  which  I  take  to  have 
been  later  than  this. 

Some  improvements  and  an  additional  stanza  (sc.  the  5th),  were 
had  from  two  other  ancient  copies  ;  one  of  them  in  black  letter  in 
the  Pepys  Collection,  thus  inscribed,  "A  sweet  and  pleasant  sonet, 
intitled,  '  My  Minde  to  me  a  Kingdom  is.'  To  the  tune  of,  In 
Crete,  &c." 

Some  of  the  stanzas  in  this  poem  were  printed  by  Byrd  separate 
from  the  rest :  they  are  here  given  in  what  seemed  the  most  natural 
order. 

[The  longest  and  apparently  earliest  version  of  this  favourite 
poem  is  signed  "  E.  Dier,"  in  MS.  Rawl.  Poet.  85,  fol.  17  in  the 
Bodleian  Library',  and  Dr.  Hannah*  attributes  it  to  Sir  Edward 
Dyer,  the  friend  of  Spenser  and  Sidney,  whose  little  pieces  were 
chiefly  printed  in  Efigland's  Helicon.  Sir  Edward  Dyer,  of  Sharp- 
ham  Park,  Somersetshire,  was  born  about  the  year  1540.  He  was 
educated  at  Oxford,  and  afterwards  was  employed  in  several  em- 
bassies. On  the  death  of  Sir  John  WoUey  he  was  made  Chancellor 
of  the  Order  of  the  Garter,  and  at  the  same  time  knighted.  He 
was  an  alchemist  and  dupe  of  Dr.  Dee  and  Edward  Kelly.  Sir 
Egerton  Brydges  quotes  from  Aubrey  the  statement  that  he  had 
four  thousand  pounds  a  year,  and  had  fourscore  thousand  pounds 
left  to  him,  which  he  wasted  almost  all,  but  Sir  Egerton  considers 
the  sums  almost  incredible  for  the  time. 

In  "  Posthumi  or  Sylvesters  Remains,  revived  out  of  the  ashes  of 
that  silver-tongued  translatour  and  divine  Poet  Laureat,"  at  the 
end  of  the  translation  of  the  Divine  Weekes  of  Du  Bartas,  1641, 
there  is  the  following  parody  of  this  favourite  poem : 

"  A  Contented  Minde. 

"  I  waigh  not  Fortunes  frowne  or  smile, 

I  joy  not  much  in  earthly  joyes, 

I  seeke  not  state,  I  reake  not  stile, 

I  am  not  fond  of  fancies  Toyes  : 
I  rest  so  pleased  with  what  I  have, 
I  wish  no  more,  no  more  I  crave. 

*  \The  Courtly  Poets,  from  Ralei\:;h  to  Montrose.  Edited  by  J. 
Hannah,  D.C.L.,  London,  1S70.     (Aldine  Poets.)] 


296  MY   MIND    TO    ME 

"  I  quake  not  at  the  Thunders  crack, 
I  tremble  not  at  noise  of  warre, 
I  swound  not  at  the  newes  of  wrack, 
I  shrink  not  at  a  Blazing  Starre  ; 
I  feare  not  losse,  I  hope  not  gaine, 
I  envie  none,  I  none  disdaine. 

"  I  see  ambition  never  pleas'd, 
I  see  some  Tantals  starv'd  in  store, 
I  see  golds  dropsie  seldome  eas'd, 
I  see  even  Midas  gape  for  more : 
I  neither  want,  nor  yet  abound. 
Enough's  a  feast,  content  is  crown'd. 

"  I  faine  not  friendship  where  I  hate, 
I  fawne  not  on  the  great  (in  show) 
I  prize,  I  praise  a  meane  estate, 
Neither  too  lofty  nor  too  low  : 

This,  this  is  all  my  choice,  my  cheere, 
A  minde  content,  a  conscience  cleere."] 


[^^^5'  Y  minde  to  me  a  kingdome  is  ; 

Such  perfect  joy  therein  I  finde 
As  farre  exceeds  all  earthly  blisse, 

That  God  or  Nature  hath  assignde  ; 
Though  much  I  want,  that  most  would  have,     5 
Yet  still  my  mind  forbids  to  crave. 

Content  I  live,  this  is  my  stay ; 

I  seek  no  more  than  may  suffice  : 
I  presse  to  beare  no  haughtie  sway ; 

Look  what  I  lack  my  mind  supplies.  10 

Loe !  thus  I  triumph  like  a  king, 
Content  with  that  my  mind  doth  bring. 

I  see  how  plentie  surfets  oft, 

And  hastie  clymbers  soonest  fall : 
I  see  that  such  as  sit  aloft  15 

Mishap  doth  threaten  most  of  all : 


A    KINGDOM   IS.  297 

These  get  with  toile,  and  keep  with  feare  : 
Such  cares  my  mind  could  never  beare. 

No  princely  pompe,  nor  welthie  store, 

No  force  to  winne  the  victorie,  -o 

No  wylie  wit  to  salve  a  sore, 

No  shape  to  winne  a  lovers  eye ; 

To  none  of  these  I  yeeld  as  thrall, 

For  why  my  mind  despiseth  all. 

Some  have  too  much,  yet  still  they  crave,         25 

I  little  have,  yet  seek  no  more  : 
They  are  but  poore,  tho'  much  they  have ; 

And  I  am  rich  with  litde  store  : 
They  poor,  I  rich  ;  they  beg,  I  give  ; 
They  lacke,  I  lend  ;  they  pine,  1  live.  30 

I  laugh  not  at  anothers  losse, 

I  grudge  not  at  anothers  gaine  ; 
No  worldly  wave  my  mind  can  tosse, 

I  brooke  that  is  anothers  bane  : 
I  feare  no  foe,  nor  fawne  on  friend  ;  35 

I  lothe  not  life,  nor  dread  mine  end. 

I  joy  not  in  no  earthly  blisse  ; 

I  weigh  not  Cresus'  welth  a  straw ; 
For  care,  I  care  not  what  it  is  ; 

I  feare  not  fortunes  fatall  law  :  40 

My  mind  is  such  as  may  not  move 
For  beautie  briofht  or  force  of  love. 

I  wish  but  what  I  have  at  will ; 

I  wander  not  to  seeke  for  more ; 
I  like  the  plaine,  I  clime  no  hill ;  45 

In  greatest  stormes  I  sitte  on  shore, 
And  laugh  at  them  that  toile  in  vaine 
To  get  what  must  be  lost  againe. 


298     MY  MIND    A    KINGDOM   IS. 

I  kisse  not  where  I  wish  to  kill  ; 

I  feigne  not  love  where  most  I  hate  ;  50 

I  breake  no  sleep  to  winne  my  will ; 

I  wayte  not  at  the  mighties  gate ; 
I  scorne  no  poore,  I  feare  no  rich  ; 
I  feele  no  want,  nor  have  too  much. 

The  court,  ne  cart,  I  like,  ne  loath ;  55 

Extreames  are  counted  worst  of  all : 

The  golden  meane  betwixt  them  both. 
Doth  surest  sit,  and  fears  no  fall : 

This  is  my  choyce,  for  why  I  finde. 

No  wealth  is  like  a  quiet  minde.  60 

My  welth  is  health,  and  perfect  ease  ; 

My  conscience  clere  my  chiefe  defence  : 
I  never  seeke  by  brybes  to  please, 

Nor  by  desert  to  give  offence  : 
Thus  do  I  live,  thus  will  I  die ;  Cs 

Would  all  did  so  as  well  as  I ! 


VI. 
THE    PATIENT    COUNTESS. 

'HE  subject  of  this  tale  is  taken  from  that  entertaining 
Colloquy  of  Erasmus,  intitled,  "  Uxor  Ms^i^iyajuoe,  sive 
Conjugium  : "  which  has  been  agreeably  modernized 
by  the  late  Mr.  Spence,  in  his  little  Miscellaneous  Pub- 
lication, intitled,  ^''  Moralities,  &c.  by  Sir  Harry  Beaumont,"  1753, 
8vo.  pag.  42. 

The  following  stanzas  are  extracted  from  an  ancient  poem  in- 
titled  Albion's  England,  written  by  W.  Warner,  a  celebrated  poet 
in  the  reign  of  Q.  Elizabeth,  though  his  name  and  works  are  now 
equally  forgotten.  The  reader  will  find  some  account  of  him  in 
vol.  ii.  book  ii.  song  24. 


I 


THE    PATIENT   COUNTESS.     299 

The  following  stanzas  are  printed  from  the  author's  improved 
edition  of  his  work,  printed  in  1602,  4to. ;  the  third  impression  of 
which  appeared  so  early  as  1592,  in  bl.  let.  4to.  The  edition  in 
1602  is  in  thirteen  books;  and  so  it  is  reprinted  in  1612,  4to. ; 
yet,  in  1606,  was  i)ublished  "A  Continuance  of  Albion's  England, 
by  the  first  author,  W.  W.  Lond.  4to.  : "'  this  contains  Books  xiv. 
x\".  xvi.  There  is  also  extant,  under  the  name  of  Warner,  "  Syrinx, 
or  a  seven-fold  Historie,  pleasant,  and  profitable,  comical,  and 
tragical,"  4to. 

[The  title  of  this  poem  challenges  comparison  with  Patient 
Grisclda,  but  it  is  in  flict  a  totally  difterent  story,  and  as  ]\Ir.  Hales 
says,  "represents  rather  tact  and  management  than  patience  in  the 
\\ife  of  an  unfaithful  (not  a  tempting  and  essaying)  husband."  The 
first  edition  of  Warner's  poem  was  published  in  1586,  and  the 
numerous  impressions  of  it  prove  its  popularity.  The  full  title  is 
as  follows:  "Albion's  England,  a  continued  History  of  the  same 
Kingdome  from  the  Originals  of  the  first  inhabitants  thereof,  unto 
the  raigne  of  Queen  Elizabeth."] 


I^MPATIENCE  chaungeth  smoke  to  flame, 
but  jelousie  is  hell ; 
Some  wives  by  patience  have  reduc'd  ill 
husbands  to  live  well  : 
As  did  the  ladie  of  an  earle,  of  whom  I  now  shall  tell. 
An  earle  '  there  was  '  had  wedded,  lov'd  ;  was  lov'd, 

and  lived  lono; 
Full  true  to  his  fayre  countesse  ;  yet  at  last  he  did  her 
wrong.  5 

Once   hunted  he  untill  the  chace,  long  fasting,  and 

the  heat 
Did  house  him  in  a  peakish  graunge^  within  a  forest 

great. 
Where  knowne  and  welcom'd  (as  the  place  and  per- 
sons might  afforde) 
Browne  bread,  whig,'^  bacon,  curds  and  milke  were  set 
him  on  the  borde. 

\}  rude  and  lone  country  house.         '^  buttermilk  or  sour  whey.] 


300     THE   PATIENT   COUNTESS. 

A  cushion  made  of  lists,  a  stoole  halfe  backed  with  a 

hoope  lo 

Were  brought  him,  and  he  sitteth  down  besides  a 

sorry  coupe. ^ 
The  poore  old  couple  wisht  their  bread  were  wheat, 

their  whig  were  perry. 
Their  bacon  beefe,  their  milke  and  curds  were  creame, 

to  make  him  merry. 
Meane  while  (in  russet  neatly  clad,  with  linen  white 

as  swanne, 
Herselfe  more  white,  save  rosie  where    the    ruddy 

colour  ranne  :  15 

Whome  naked  nature,  not  the  aydes  of  arte  made  to 

excell) 
The  good  man's  daughter  sturres  to  see  that  all  were 

feat^  and  well ; 
The  earle  did  marke  her,  and  admire  such  beautie 

there  to  dwell. 
Yet  fals  he  to  their  homely  fare,  and  held  him  at  a  feast : 
But  as  his  hunger  slaked,  so  an  amorous  heat  increast. 
When  this  repast  was  past,  and  thanks,  and  welcome 

too  ;  he  sayd  21 

Unto  his  host  and  hostesse,in  the  hearing  of  the  mayd : 
Yee  know,  quoth  he,  that  I  am  lord  of  this,  and  many 

townes  ; 
I  also  know  that  you  be  poore,  and  I  can  spare  you 

pownes." 
Soe  will  I, so  yee  will  consent, that  yonder  lasse  and  I  25 
May  bargaine  for  her  love  ;  at  least,  doe  give  me  leave 

to  trye. 
Who  needs  to  know  it  ?  nay  who  dares  into  my  doings 

First  theymislike,yetatthelengthforlucrewere  misled; 
And  then  the  gamesome  earle  did  wowe^  the  damsell 
for  his  bed. 

[^  pen  for  poultry.      ^  ni^e  qj-  neat.       ^  pounds.       ■*  woo.] 


THE    PATIENT    COUNTESS.     301 

He  took  her  in  his  armes,  as  yet  so  coyish  to  be  kist,  30 

As  mayds  that  know  themselves  belov'd,  and  yieldingly 
resist. 

In  few,  his  offers  were  so  large  she  lastly  did  consent ; 

With  whom  he  lodged  all  that  night,  and  early  home 
he  went. 

He  tooke  occasion  oftentimes  in  such  a  sort  to  hunt. 

Whom  when  his  lady  often  mist,contrary  to  his  wont,  35 

And  lastly  was  informed  of  his  amorous  haunt  else- 
where ; 

It  greev'd  her  not  a  little,  though  she  seem'd  it  well 
to  beare. 

And  thus  she  reasons  with  herselfe,  some  fault  per- 
haps in  me  ; 

Somewhat  is  done,  that  so  he  doth  :  alas  !  what  ma)- 
it  be  ? 

How  may  I  winne  him  to  myself?  he  is  a  man,  and 
men  40 

Have  imperfections ;  itbehooves  me  pardon  nature  then. 

To  checke  him  were  to  make  him  checke,*  althouy-h 
hee  now  were  chaste  : 

A  man  controuled  of  his  wife,  to  her  makes  lesser  haste, 

If  dut)'  then,  or  daliance  may  prevayle  to  alter  him  ; 

I  will  be  dutifulfand  make  my  selfe  for  daliance  trim,  ^s 

So  was  she,  and  so  lovingly  did  entertaine  her  lord, 

As  fairer,  or  more  faultles  none  could  be  for  bed  or  bord. 

Yet  still  he  loves  his  leiman,^  and  did  still  pursue  that 
game. 

Suspecting  nothing  less,  than  that  his  lady  knew  the 
same  : 

Wherefore  to  make  him  know  she  knew,  she  this  de- 
vise did  frame  :  50 


•  To  check  is  a  term  in  falconry,  applied  when  a  hawk  stops  and 
turns  away  from  his  proper  pursuit  :  to  check  also  signifies  to  re- 
prove or  chide.     It  is  in  this  verse  used  in  Ijoth  senses. 

(^  mistress.] 


302      THE    PATIENT    COUNTESS. 


When  long  she  had  been  wrong'd,  and  sought  the 
foresayd  meanes  in  vaine, 

She  rideth  to  the  simple  graunge,  but  with  a  slender 
traine. 

She  lighteth,  entreth,  greets  them  well,  and  then  did 
looke  about  her  : 

The  guiltie  houshold  knowing  her,  did  wish  them- 
selves without  her  ; 

Yet,  for  she  looked  merily,  the  lesse  they  did  mis- 
doubt^ her.  5^ 

When  she  had  seen  the  beauteous  wench  (then  blush- 
ing fairnes  fairer) 

Such  beauty  made  the  countesse  hold  them  both  ex- 
cus'd  the  rather. 

Who  would  not  bite  at  such  a  bait  ?  thought  she  :  and 
who  (though  loth) 

So  poore   a   wench,   but  gold  might  tempt  ?  sweet 
errors  lead  them  both. 

Scarse  one  in  twenty  that  had  bragg'd  of  proffer'd 
gold  denied,  60 

Or  of  such  yeelding  beautie  baulkt,  but,  tenne  to  one, 
had  lied. 

Thus  thought  she  :  and  she  thus  declares  her  cause 
of  coming  thether  ; 

My  lord,  oft  hunting  in  these  partes,  through  travel, 
night  or  wether, 

Hath  often  lodged  in  your  house;  I  thanke  you  for 
the  same  ; 

For  why  ?  it  doth  him  jolly  ease  to  lie  so  neare  his 
game.  ^  65 

But,  for  you  have  not  furniture  beseeming  such  a  guest, 

I  bring  his  owne,  and  come  myselfe  to  see  his  lodg- 
ing drest. 

With  that  two  sumpters  were  discharg'd,  in  which 
were  hangings  brave, 

\}  suspect] 


THE    PATIENT    COUNTESS,     ^o^ 

Silke  coverings,  ciirtens,  carpets,  plate,  and  al  such 

turn  should  have. 
When  all  was  handsomly  dispos'd,  she  prayes  them 

to  have  care  70 

That  nothing  hap  in  their  default/  that  might  his 

health  impair  : 
And,   Damsell,  quoth  shee,  for  it  seemes  this  hous- 

hold  is  but  three, 
And  for  thy  parents  age,  that  this  shall  chiefely  rest 

on  thee  ; 
Do  me  that  good,  else  would  to  God  he  hither  come 

no  more. 
So  tooke  she  horse,  and  ere  she  went  bestowed  ofould 

good  store.  7S 

Full  little  thought  the  countie"'  that  his  countesse  had 

done  so ; 
Who  now  return'd  from  far  affaires  did  to  his  sweet- 
heart go. 
No  sooner  sat  he  foote  within  the  late  deformed  cote,^ 
But  that  the  formall  chancre  of  thincys  his  wondrinof 

eies  did  note. 
But  when   he   knew   those  goods  to  be  his  proper 

goods  ;  though  late,  80 

Scarce  taking  leave,  he  home  returnes  the  matter  to 

debate. 
The  countesse  was  a-bed,  and  he  with  her  his  lodging 

tooke  ; 
Sir,  welcome  home  (quoth  shee)  ;  this  night  for  you 

I  did  not  looke. 
Then  did  he  question  her  of  such  his  stuffe  bestowed 

soe. 
Forsooth,  quoth  she,  because   I   did  )our  love  and 

lodging  knowe  ;  85 

Your  love  to  be  a  proper  wench,  your  lodging  nothing 

lesse  ; 

\}  happen  from  their  neglect.         -  earl.  ^  cottage] 


04     THE    PATIENT   COUNTESS. 


I  held  it  for  your  health,  the  house  more  decently  to 

dresse. 
Well  wot  I,  notwithstanding  her,  your  lordship  loveth 

me ;  • 

And  greater  hope  to  hold  you  such  by  quiet,  then 

brawles,  '  you  '  see. 
Then  for  my  duty,  your  delight,  and  to  retaine  your 

favour,  90 

All  done  I  did,  and  patiently  expect  your  wonted 

'haviour. 
Her  patience,  witte  and  answer  wrought  his  gentle 

teares  to  fall : 
When  (kissing  her  a  score  of  times)  amend,  sweet 

wife,  I  shall  : 
He  said,  and  did  it ;  *  so  each  wife  her  husband  may' 

recall. 


vn. 


DOWSABELL. 


HE  following  stanzas  were  written  by  Michael  Drayton, 
a  poet  of  some  eminence  in  the  reigns  of  Q.  Elizabeth, 
James  I.  and  Charles  I.*  They  are  inserted  in  one  of 
his  Pastorals,  the  first  edition  of  which  bears  this 
whimsical  title,  "  Idea.  The  Shepheards  Garland  fashioned  in 
nine  Eglogs.  Rowlands  sacrifice  to  the  nine  muses.  Lond.  1593-" 
4to.  They  are  inscribed  with  the  author's  name  at  length  "  To 
the  noble  and  valerous  gentleman  master  Robert  Dudley,  &c."  It 
is  very  remarkable  that  when  Drayton  reprinted  them  in  the  first 
folio  edit,  of  his  works,  16 19,  he  had  given  those  Eclogues  so 
thorough  a  revisal,  that  there  is  hardly  a  line  to  be  found  the 
same  as  in  the  old  edition.     This  poem  had  received  the  fewest 


*  He  was  born  in  1563,  and  died  in  1631. 


.Biog.  Brit. 


DOWSABELL.  305 

corrections,  and  therefore  is  chiefly  given  from  the  ancient  copy, 
where  it  is  thus  introduced  by  one  of  his  Shepherds : 

"Listen  to  mee,  my  lovely  shepheards  joye, 

And  thou  shalt  heare,  with  mirth  and  mickle  glee, 

A  pretie  tale,  which  when  1  was  a  boy. 

My  toothles  grandame  oft  hath  tolde  to  me." 

The  author  has  professedly  imitated  the  style  and  metre  of 
some  of  the  old  metrical  romances,  particularly  that  of  Sir 
Isenbras*  (alluded  to  in  v.  3),  as  the  reader  may  judge  from  the 
following  specimen  : 

"  Lordynges,  lysten,  and  you  shal  here,  &c. 

tt^  ^^  ^K  ^  ^ 

Ye  shall  well  heare  of  a  knight, 
That  was  in  warre  full  wyght. 

And  doughtye  of  his  dede : 
His  name  was  Syr  Isenbras, 
Man  nobler  then  he  was 

Lp'ed  none  with  breade. 
He  was  lyvely,  large,  and  longe, 
With  shoulders  broade,  and  armes  stronge. 

That  myghtie  was  to  se  : 
He  was  a  hardye  man,  and  hye. 
All  men  hym  loved  that  hym  se, 

For  a  gentyll  knight  was  he  : 
Harpers  loved  him  in  hall, 
With  other  minstrells  all, 

For  he  gave  them  golde  and  fee,"  &c. 

This  ancient  legend  was  printed  in  black-letter,  4to.  by  Wyllyam 
Copland;  no  date.f  In  the  Cotton  Library  (Calig.  A  2)  is  a  MS. 
copy  of  the  same  romance  containing  the  greatest  variations. 
They  are  probably  two  different  translations  of  some  French 
original. 

*  As  also  Chaucer's  Rhyme  of  Sir  Topas,  v.  6. 

t  [Reprinted  by  Utterson.  The  Romance  of  Sir  Isiimbras  was 
printed  from  the  MS.  by  Mr.  Hallivvell  in  the  T/iornton  Romances 
(Camden  Society,  1844).] 


3o6  DOWSABELL. 


^^^^^^ARRE  in  the  countrey  of  Arden, 

There  won'd^  a  knight,  hight  Cassemen, 

As  bolde  as  Isenbras  : 
Feir^  was  he,  and  eger  bent. 
In  battell  and  in  tournament,  5 

As  was  the  good  Sir  Topas. 

He  had,  as  antique  stories  tell, 
A  daughter  cleaped^  Dowsabel, 

A  mayden  fayre  and  free  : 
And  for  she  was  her  fathers  heire,  10 

Full  well  she  was  y-cond  the  leyre^ 

Of  mickle  curtesie. 

The  silke  well  couth  she  twist  and  twine, 
And  make  the  fine  march-pine,^ 

And  with  the  needle  werke  :  15 

And  she  couth  helpe  the  priest  to  say  , 

His  mattins  on  a  holy-day,  * 

And  sing  a  psalme  in  kirke. 

She  ware  a  frock  of  frolicke  greene. 

Might  well  beseeme  a  mayden  queene,  20 

Which  seemly  was  to  see ; 
A  hood  to  that  so  neat  and  fine, 
In  colour  like  the  colombine, 

Y-wrought  full  featously.^ 

Her  features  all  as  fresh  above,  25 

As  is  the  grasse  that  growes  by  Dove ; 
And  lyth^  as  lasse  of  Kent. 


\}  dwelt.         ^  keen.         ^  named.  ^  she  was    taught    the 

learning.  ^  march-pane,  a  kind  of  biscuit.  ^  dexterously. 

^  gentle  or  tender.] 


DOWSABELL.  307 

Her  skin  as  soft  as  Lemster  wooll/ 
As  white  as  snow  on  Peakish  Hull," 

Or  swanne  that  swims  in  Trent.  30 

This  mayden  in  a  morne  betime 

Went  forth,  when  May  was  in  her  prime. 

To  get  sweete  cctywall, ' 
The  honey-suckle,  the  harlocke,^ 
The  lilly  and  the  lady-smocke,  35 

To  deck  her  summer  hall. 

Thus,  as  she  wandred  here  and  there, 
Y-picking  of  the  bloomed  breere, 

She  chanced  to  espie 
A  shepheard  sitting  on  a  bancke,  4.0 

Like  chanteclere  he  crowed  crancke,^ 

And  pip'd  full  merrilie. 

He  lear'd°  his  sheepe  as  he  him  list, 
When  he  would  whistle  in  his  fist, 

To  feede  about  him  round  ;  4S 

Whilst  he  full  many  a  carroll  sung, 
Untill  the  fields  and  medowes  rung, 

And  all  the  woods  did  sound. 

In  favour  this  same  shepheards  swayne 
W^as  like  the  bedlam  Tamburlayne,*  50 

WHiich  helde  prowd  kings  in  awe  : 

•  Alluding  to  Tamburlainc  the  ^reat,  or  the  Scythian  Shepheard, 
1590,  8vo.  an  old  ranting  play  ascribed  to  Marlowe. 

\}  Leominster,  or  Lemster,  was  long  famous  for  its  wool,  and 
Skelton  refers  to  "  good  Lemster  wool  "  in  his  Elynour  Rummin. 

-  Peakish  hill ;  this  may  refer  to  the  well-known  Derbyshire 
mountain  called  the  Peak. 

^  herb  valerian,  or  mountain  spikenard. 

^  perhaps  charlock,  or  wild  rape. 

^  exultingly.  *  pastured. 


3o8  DOWSABELL. 

But  meeke  he  was  as  lamb  mought  be ; 
An  innocent  of  ill  as  he  * 

Whom  his  lewd  brother  slaw. 

The  shepheard  ware  a  sheepe-gray  cloke,  55 

Which  was  of  the  finest  loke,^ 

That  could  be  cut  with  sheere  : 
His  mittens  were  of  bauzens^  skinne, 
His  cockers^  were  of  cordiwin,^ 

His  hood  of  meniveere.^  60 

His  aule  and  lingell^  in  a  thong, 
His  tar-boxe  on  his  broad  belt  hong, 

His  breech  of  coyntrie^  blewe  : 
Full  crispe  and  curled  were  his  lockes, 
His  browes  as  white  as  Albion  rocks  :  65 

So  like  a  lover  true, 

And  pyping  still  he  spent  the  day, 
So  merry  as  the  popingay  ;  ^ 

Which  liked  Dowsabel : 
That  would  she  ought,  or  would  she  nought,     70 
This  lad  would  never  from  her  thought ; 

She  in  love-longing  fell. 

At  length  she  tucked  up  her  frocke, 
White  as  a  lilly  was  her  smocke. 

She  drew  the  shepheard  nye  ;  75 

But  then  the  shepheard  pyp'd  a  good, 
That  all  his  sheepe  forsooke  their  foode. 

To  heare  his  melodye. 

*  Sc.  Abel. 

\}  fleece  of  wool.         -  sheepskin  gloves  with  the  wool  on  the 
inside.  ^  short  boots.  *  leather. 

^  mixed  fur.  ^  rosined  thread.        "  Coventry. 


8 


parrot.] 


DOWSABELL,  309 

Thy  sheepe,  quoth  she,  cannot  be  leane, 

That  have  a  jolly  shepheards  swayne,  80 

The  which  can  pipe  so  well : 
Yea  but,  sayth  he,  their  shepheard  may, 
If  pyping  thus  he  pine  away 

In  love  of  Dowsabel. 

Of  love,  fond  boy,  take  thou  no  keepe,'  85 

Quoth  she ;  looke  thou  unto  thy  sheepe, 

Lest  they  should  hap  to  stray. 
Quoth  he,  so  had  I  done  full  well, 
Had  I  not  seen  fayre  Dowsabell 

Come  forth  to  gather  maye.  90 

With  that  she  gan  to  vaile  her  head, 
Her  cheeks  were  like  the  roses  red. 

But  not  a  word  she  sayd  : 
With  that  the  shepheard  gan  to  frowne, 
He  threw  his  pretie  pypes  adowne,  95 

And  on  the  ground  him  layd. 

Sayth  she,  I  may  not  stay  till  night, 
And  leave  my  summer-hall  undight,'* 

And  all  for  lono-  of  thee. 
My  coate,^  sayth  he,  nor  yet  my  fouldc  100 

Shall  neither  sheepe  nor  shepheard  hould, 

Except  thou  favour  mee. 

Sayth  she,  Yet  lever  were  I  dead. 
Then  I  should  lose  my  mayden-head, 

And  all  for  love  of  men.  105 

Sayth  he,  Yet  are  you  too  unkind. 
If  in  your  heart  you  cannot  fmde 

To  love  us  now  and  then. 


['  heed.  '-'  undecked.  ^  cot.J 


3IO  DOWSABELL. 

And  I  to  thee  will  be  as  kinde 

As  Colin  was  to  Rosalinde,  no 

Of  curtesie  the  flower. 
Then  will  I  be  as  true,  quoth  she, 
As  ever  mayden  yet  might  be 

Unto  her  paramour. 

With  that  she  bent  her  snow-white  knee,         115 
Downe  by  the  shepheard  kneeled  shee, 

And  him  she  sweetely  kist : 
With  that  the  shepheard  whoop'd  for  joy, 
Quoth  he,  ther's  never  shepheards  boy 

That  ever  was  so  blist.  120 


VIII. 
THE  FAREWELL  TO  LOVE. 

From  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  play,  intitled  The  Lovei^s  Progress. 

act  iii.  sc.  i. 

:DIEU,    fond    love,    farewell    you    wanton 
powers  ; 
I  am  free  again. 
Thou  dull  disease  of  bloud  and  idle  hours, 
Bewitching  pain, 
Fly  to  fools,  that  sigh  away  their  time  :  5 

My  nobler  love  to  heaven  doth  climb, 
And  there  behold  beauty  still  young. 

That  time  can  ne'er  corrupt,  nor  death  destroy. 
Immortal  sweetness  by  fair  angels  sung, 

And  honoured  by  eternity  and  joy  :  10 

There  lies  my  love,  thither  my  hopes  aspire. 
Fond  love  declines,  this  heavenly  love  grows  higher. 


UL  YSSES  AND  THE  S  YREN.     3 1 1 


IX. 
ULYSSES  AND  THE  SYREN, 


(FFORDS  a  pretty  poetical  contest  bet\veen  Pleasure 
and  Honour.  It  is  found  at  the  end  of  Hymai's 
Triumph :  a  pastoral  tragicomcdic,  written  by  Daniel, 
and  printed  among  his  works,  4to.  1623.*  Daniel,  who 
was  a  contemporary  of  Drayton's,  and  is  said  to  have  been  poet 
laureat  to  Queen  Elizabeth,  was  bom  in  1562,  and  died  in  1619. 
Anne,  Countess  of  Dorset,  Pembroke,  and  Montgomery  (to  whom 
Daniel  had  been  tutor),  has  inserted  a  small  portrait  of  him  in  a 
full-length  picture  of  herself,  preserved  at  Appleby  Castle,  in  Cum- 
berland. 

This  little  poem  is  the  rather  selected  for  a  specimen  of  Daniel's 
poetic  powers,  as  it  is  omitted  in  the  later  edition  of  his  works, 
2  vols.  i2mo.  1 7 18. 

[Samuel  Daniel  was  born  in  Somersetshire,  and  educated  at 
Magdalen  Hall,  O.xford.  He  left  college  without  a  degree,  "  his 
geny  being,"  according  to  Ant.  ^  Wood,  "more  prone  to  easier 
and  smoother  subjects  than  in  pecking  and  hewing  at  logic. "  He 
was  tutor  to  Lady  Anne  Clifford,  subsequently  Countess  of  Pem- 
broke, and  aftenvards  groom  of  the  privy  chamber  to  Anne,  queen 
of  James  I.  Browne  calls  him  in  Britannia's  Pastorals,  "  Wel- 
languaged  Daniel,"  and  the  union  of  power  of  thought  with  sweet- 
ness and  grace  of  expression  exhibited  by  him  is  highly  praised  by 
Southey  and  Coleridge.  He  was  free  from  indelicacy  in  his  writ- 
ings, and  Fuller  says  of  him  that  "  he  carried  in  his  Christian  and 
surname  two  holy  prophets,  his  monitors,  so  to  qualify  his  raptures 
that  he  abhorred  all  profaneness."] 


•  In  this  edition  it  is  collated  with  a  copy  printed  at  the  enH  of 
his  "  Tragedic  of  Cleopatra.     London,  1607,  12 mo." 


312  ULYSSES    AND 


Syren. 

OME,  worthy  Greeke,  Ulysses  come, 
Possesse  these  shores  with  me, 
The  windes  and  seas  are  troublesome. 
And  here  we  may  be  free. 
Here  may  we  sit  and  view  their  toyle,  5 

That  travaile  in  the  deepe. 
Enjoy  the  day  in  mirth  the  while, 
And  spend  the  night  in  sleepe. 

Ulysses. 

Faire  nymph,  if  fame  or  honour  were 

To  be  attain'd  with  ease,  10 

Then  would  I  come  and  rest  with  thee, 

And  leave  such  toiles  as  these  : 
But  here  it  dwels,  and  here  must  I 

With  danger  seek  it  forth  ; 
To  spend  the  time  luxuriously  15 

Becomes  not  men  of  worth. 

Syren. 

Ulysses,  O  be  not  deceiv'd 

With  that  unreall  name  : 
This  honour  is  a  thing  conceiv'd, 

And  rests  on  others'  fame.  ?o 

Begotten  only  to  molest 

Our  peace,  and  to  beguile 
(The  best  thing  of  our  life)  our  rest. 

And  give  us  up  to  toyle  ! 


i 


THE    SYREN.  313 

Ulysses. 

Delicious  nymph,  suppose  there  were  25 

Nor  honor,  nor  report, 
Yet  manHnesse  would  scorne  to  weare 

The  time  in  idle  sport : 
For  toyle  doth  give  a  better  touch 

To  make  us  feele  our  joy ;  30 

And  ease  findes  tediousnes,  as  much 

As  labour  yeelds  annoy. 

Syren. 

Then  pleasure  likewise  seemes  the  shore, 

Whereto  tendes  all  your  toyle ; 
Which  you  forego  to  make  it  more,  35 

And  perish  oft  the  while. 
Who  may  disport  them  diversly. 

Find  never  tedious  day  ; 
And  ease  may  have  variety. 

As  well  as  action  may.  40 

Ulysses. 

But  natures  of  the  noblest  frame 

These  toyles  and  dangers  please  ; 
And  they  take  comfort  in  the  same, 

As  much  as  you  in  ease  : 
And  with  the  thought  of  actions  past  45 

Are  recreated  still : 
When  pleasure  leaves  a  touch  at  last 

To  shew  that  it  was  ill. 

Syren. 

That  doth  opinion  only  cause, 

That's  out  of  custom  bred  ;  50 

Which  makes  us  many  other  laws, 

Than  ever  nature  did. 


314     ULYSSES  AND  THE  SYREN. 

No  widdowes  waile  for  our  delights, 
Our  sports  are  without  blood  ; 

The  world  we  see  by  warlike  wights  55 

Receives  more  hurt  than  good. 

Ulysses. 

But  yet  the  state  of  things  require 

These  motions  of  unrest, 
And  these  great  spirits  of  high  desire 

Seem  borne  to  turne  them  best :  60 

To  purge  the  mischiefes,  that  increase 

And  all  orood  order  mar  : 
For  oft  we  see  a  wicked  peace, 

To  be  well  chang'd  for  war. 

Syren. 

Well,  well,  Ulysses,  then  I  see  65 

I  shall  not  have  thee  here  ; 
And  therefore  I  will  come  to  thee, 

And  take  my  fortune  there. 
I  must  be  wonne  that  cannot  win. 

Yet  lost  were  I  not  wonne  :  70 

For  beauty  hath  created  bin 

T'  undoo  or  be  undone. 


X. 


CUPID'S  PASTIME. 


HIS  beautiful  poem,  which  possesses  a  classical  elegance 
hardly  to  be  expected  in  the  age  of  James  I.  is  printed 
from  the  4th  edition  of  Davison's  Poems,*  &c.  162 1. 
It  is  also  found  in  a  later  miscellany,  intitled,  "  Le 
Prince  d' Amour,"  1660,  8vo.  Francis  Davison,  editor  of  the  poems 

*  See  the  full  title  in  Vol.  ii.  Book  iii.  No.  iv. 


CUPID'S    PASTIME.  315 

above  referred  to,  was  son  of  that  unfortunate  secretary'  of  state 
who  suti'ered  so  much  from  the  afi'air  of  Mary  Q.  of  Scots.  These 
poems,  he  tells  us  in  his  preface,  were  written  by  himself,  by  his 
brother  [Walter],  who  was  a  soldier  in  the  wars  of  the  Low  Coun- 
tries, and  by  some  dear  friends  "anonymoi."  Among  them  are 
found  some  pieces  by  Sir  J.  Davis,  the  Countess  of  Pembroke,  Sir 
Philip  Sidney,  Spenser,  and  other  wits  of  those  times. 

In  the  fourth  vol.  of  Drydcn's  Miscellanies,  this  poem  is  attri- 
buted to  Sydney  Godolphin,  Esq. ;  but  erroneously,  being  pro- 
bably written  before  he  was  born.  One  edit,  of  Davisons  book 
was  published  in  1608.  Godolphin  was  born  in  1610,  and  died 
in  1642-3.     Ath.  Ox.  ii.  23. 


i 


^^  T  chanc'd  of  late  a  shepherd  swain. 

That  went  to  seek  his  straying-  sheep, 
Within  a  thicket  on  a  plain 

Espied  a  dainty  nymph  asleep. 


Her  golden  hair  o'erspred  her  face  ;  s 

Her  careless  arms  abroad  were  cast ; 

Her  quiver  had  her  pillows  place  ; 
Her  breast  lay  bare  to  every  blast. 

The  shepherd  stood  and  gaz'd  his  fill ; 

Nought  durst  he  do;  nought  durst  he  say  ;   10 
Whilst  chance,  or  else  perhaps  his  will. 

Did  guide  the  god  of  love  that  way. 

The  crafty  boy  that  sees  her  sleep, 
Whom  if  she  wak'd  he  durst  not  see  ; 

Behind  her  closely  seeks  to  creep,  is 

Before  her  nap  should  ended  bee. 

There  come,  he  steals  her  shafts  away, 
And  puts  his  own  into  their  place  ; 

Nor  dares  he  any  longer  stay, 

But,  ere  she  wakes,  hies  thence  apace.  20 


3i6  CUPID'S    PASTIME. 

Scarce  was  he  gone,  but  she  awakes, 

And  spies  the  shepherd  standing  by  : 
Her  bended  bow  in  haste  she  takes, 

And  at  the  simple  swain  lets  flye. 

Forth  flew  the  shaft,  and  pierc'd  his  heart,  25 

That  to  the  ground  he  fell  with  pain  : 
Yet  up  again  forthwith  he  start. 

And  to  the  nymph  he  ran  amain. 

Amazed  to  see  so  strange  a  sight. 

She  shot,  and  shot,  but  all  in  vain  ;  30 

The  more  his  wounds,  the  more  his  might. 

Love  yielded  strength  amidst  his  pain. 

Her  angry  eyes  were  great  with  tears, 

She  blames  her  hand,  she  blames  her  skill  ; 

The  bluntness  of  her  shafts  she  fears,  35 

And  try  them  on  herself  she  will. 

Take  heed,  sweet  nymph,  trye  not  thy  shaft, 

Each  little  touch  will  pierce  thy  heart : 
Alas !  thou  know'st  n5t  Cupids  craft ; 

Revenge  is  joy ;  the  end  is  smart.  +0 

Yet  try  she  will,  and  pierce  some  bare  ; 

Her  hands  were  glov'd,  but  next  to  hand 
Was  that  fair  breast,  that  breast  so  rare. 

That  made  the  shepherd  senseless  stand. 

That  breast  she  pierc'd ;  and  through  that  breast  45 

Love  found  an  entry  to  her  heart ;  ij 

At  feeling  of  this  new-come  guest. 

Lord  !  how  this  gentle  nymph  did  start  .-* 

She  runs  not  now ;  she  shoots  no  more  ; 

Away  she  throws  both  shaft  and  bow  :  50 

She  seeks  for  what  she  shunn'd  before. 

She  thinks  the  shepherds  haste  too  slow. 


CUPID'S    PASTIME. 


317 


Though  mountains  meet  not,  lovers  may 
What  other  lovers  do,  did  they  : 
The  god  of  love  sate  on  a  tree, 
And  laught  that  pleasant  sight  to  see. 


55 


XI. 


THE    CHARACTER   OF    A    HAPPY   LIFE. 


HIS  little  moral  poem  was  writ  by  Sir  Henry  Wotton, 
"UK^'*'  ^^^^^  ^^^^  Provost  of  Eton  in  1639.  J^t.  72.  It  is 
^  ^^^  printed  from  a  little  collection  of  his  pieces,  intitled, 
Jieliquuv  Wotioniame,  1651,  i2mo. ;  compared  with  one 
or  two  other  copies.  [Ben  Jonson  is  said  to  have  greatly  admired 
these  verses,  and  to  have  known  them  by  heart.] 


OW^  happy  is  he  born  or  taught, 
That  serveth  not  anothers  will  ; 
Whose  armour  is  his  honest  thought, 
And  simple  truth  his  highest  skill  : 

W^hose  passions  not  his  masters  are  ; 

Whose  soul  is  still  prepar'd  for  death  ; 
Not  ty'd  unto  the  world  with  care 

Of  princes  ear,  or  vulgar  breath  : 

Who  hath  his  life  from  rumours  freed  ; 

Whose  conscience  is  his  strong  retreat  : 
Whose  state  can  neither  flatterers  feed. 

Nor  ruine  make  oppressors  great  : 

Who  envies  none,  whom  chance  doth  raise, 
Or  vice  :  Who  never  understood 

How  deepest  wounds  are  given  with  praise  ; 
Nor  rules  of  state,  but  rules  of  good  ; 


10 


15 


3i8  A    HAPPY   LIFE. 

Who  God  doth  late  and  early  pray 
More  of  his  grace  than  gifts  to  lend  ; 

And  entertaines  the  harmless  day 
With  a  well-chosen  book  or  friend. 

This  man  is  freed  from  servile  bands 
Of  hope  to  rise,  or  feare  to  fall  ; 

Lord  of  himselfe,  though  not  of  lands  ; 
And  having  nothing,  yet  hath  all. 


20 


XII. 
GILDEROY 

-^^^'^AS  a  famous  robber,  who  lived  about  the  middle  of  the 
last  century,  if  we  may  credit  the  histories  and  story- 


books of  highwaymen,  which  relate  many  improbable 
feats  of  him,  as  his  robbing  Cardinal  Richelieu,  Oliver 
Cromwell,  &c.  But  these  stories  have  probably  no  other  authority 
than  the  records  of  Grub-street.  At  least  the  Gilderoy,  who  is  the 
hero  of  Scottish  songsters,  seems  to  have  lived  in  an  earlier  age  ; 
for,  in  Thompson's'  Orpheus  Caledonius,  vol.  ii.  1733,  8vo.  is  a 
copy  of  this  ballad,  which,  tho'  corrupt  and  interpolated,  contains 
some  lines  that  appear  to  be  of  genuine  antiquity :  in  these  he  is 
represented  as  contemporary  with  Mary  Q.  of  Scots  :  ex.  gr. 

"The  Queen  of  Scots  possessed  nought. 

That  my  love  let  me  want : 
For  cow  and  ew  he  to  me  brought, 

And  een  whan  they  were  scant. 
All  these  did  honestly  possess 

He  never  did  annoy. 
Who  never  fail'd  to  pay  their  cess 
To  my  love  Gilderoy." 

These  lines  perhaps  might  safely  have  been  inserted  among  the 
following  stanzas,  which  are  given  from  a  written  copy,  that  appears 
to  have  received  some  modern  corrections.  Indeed,  the  common 
popular  ballad  contained  some  indecent  luxuriances  that  required 
the  pruning-hook. 


GILDEROY.  319 

[The  subject  of  this  ballad  was  a  ruffian  totally  unworthy  of  the 
poetic  honours  given  to  him,  and  the  poem  itself  can  in  no 
way  be  looked  upon  as  historic.  To  mention  but  one  instance 
of  its  departure  from  truth — the  song  is  said  to  have  been  written 
by  a  young  woman  of  a  superior  station  in  society  who  had  been 
induced  to  live  with  the  freebooter,  but  the  fact  was  that  one 
thousand  marks  having  been  offered  for  his  apprehension,  he  was 
betrayed  by  his  mistress  Peg  Cunningham,  and  captured  after  killing 
eight  of  the  men  sent  against  him,  and  stabbing  the  woman. 

He  was  one  of  the  proscribed  clan  Gregor,  and  a  notorious  lifter 
of  cattle  in  the  Highlands  of  Perthshire  for  some  time  before 
1636.  In  February  of  that  year  seven  of  his  accompHces  were 
taken,  tried,  condemned,  and  executed  at  Edinburgh.  These 
men  were  apprehended  chiefly  through  the  exertions  of  the  Stewarts 
of  Athol,  and  in  revenge  Gilderoy  burned  several  of  the  houses 
belonging  to  the  Stewarts.  In  a  few  months,  however,  he  was 
captured,  as  before  mentioned,  and  in  July,  1636,  was  hanged 
with  five  accomplices  at  the  Gallowlee,  between  Leith  and  Edin- 
burgh. As  a  mark  of  unenviable  distinction,  Gilderoy  was  hanged 
on  a  gallows  higher  than  the  rest.  It  is  curious  that  this  wretched 
miscreant,  who  robbed  the  poor  and  outraged  all  women  who 
came  in  his  way,  should  have  become  popular  in  the  south  of 
Britain.  His  adventures,  with  the  various  details  noticed  above 
by  Percy,  are  related  in  Captain  Alexander  Smith's  History  of 
Hig/ncaymen,  &c.,  17 19,  and  in  Johnson's  Lives  and  Exploits  of 
Higincaymcn,  1734. 

The  earliest  known  version  of  this  song  was  printed  in  London 
in  1650,  and  another  is  included  in  Westminster  Drollery,  1671. 
The  latter  consists  of  five  stanzas,  the  first  being : 

"  Was  ever  grief  so  great  as  mine 

Then  speak  dear  beam,  I  prethee, 
That  thus  must  leave  my  Gilderoy, 

O  my  benison  gang  with  thee. 
Good  speed  be  with  you  then  Sir  she  said 

For  gone  is  all  my  joy : 
And  gone  is  he  whom  I  love  best, 

My  handsome  Gilderoy." 

The  second  stanza  is  Percy's  fifth,  with  some  of  the  ''luxuriances" 
he  refers  to.     The  third  stanza  is  a  variation  of  Percy's  first. 

"  Now  Gilderoy  was  bonny  boy 
Would  needs  to  th'  King  be  gone 

With  his  silken  garters  on  his  legs, 
And  the  roses  on  his  shoone. 


320  GILDEROY. 

But  better  he  had  staid  at  home 

With  me  his  only  joy, 
For  on  a  gallow  tree  they  hung 

My  handsome  Gilderoy." 

The  fourth  stanza  is  a  variety  of  Percy's  eleventh,  and  the  fifth 
of  his  ninth. 

There  is  another  version  of  this  song  in  the  Collection  of  Old 
Ballads,  1723  (vol.  i.),  entitled  "  The  Scotch  Lover's  Lamentation, 
or  Gilderoy's  last  farewell,"  which  contains  some  few  "luxuriances," 
but  is  on  the  whole  superior  to  the  "  improved  "  one  here  printed. 
This  was  altered  by  Lady  Wardlaw,  who  added  the  stanzas  be- 
tween brackets,  besides  the  one  quoted  above  by  Percy. 

Gilderoy  is  now,  perhaps,  better  known  by  Campbell's  song 
than  by  this  ballad.  The  name  is  a  corruption  of  the  Gaelic  gillc 
roy,  red-haired  boy.] 


ILDEROY  was  a  bonnie  boy, 
Had  roses  tuW  his  shoone, 
His  stockings  were  of  silken  soy,^ 
Wi'  garters  hanging  doune  : 
It  was,  I  weene,  a  comeHe  sight,  s 

To  see  sae  trim  a  boy ; 
He  was  my  jo^  and  hearts  deHght, 
My  handsome  Gilderoy. 

Oh !  sike  twa  charming  een  he  had, 

A  breath  as  sweet  as  rose,  lo 

He  never  ware  a  Highland  plaid. 

But  costly  silken  clothes  ; 
He  gain'd  the  luve  of  ladies  gay, 

Nane  eir  tull  him  was  coy  : 
Ah  !  wae  is  mee  !   I  mourn  the  day  15 

For  my  dear  Gilderoy. 


[^  for  ////,  to.  -  silk.  3  sweetheart. 


3^1 


20 


GILDEROY. 

My  Gilderoy  and  I  were  born, 

Baith  in  one  toun  together. 
We  scant  were  seven  years  beforn, 

We  gan  to  luve  each  other ; 
Our  dadies  and  our  mammies  thay, 

Were  fill'd  wi'  mickle  joy, 
To  think  upon  the  bridal  day, 

Twixt  me  and  Gikieroy. 

For  Gilderoy  that  luve  of  mine,  25 

Gude  faith,  I  freely  bought 
A  wedding  sark^  of  holland  fine, 

Wi'  silken  flowers  wrought : 
And  he  gied  me  a  wedding  ring, 

Which  I  receiv'd  wi'  joy,  30 

Nae  lad  nor  lassie  eir  could  sing, 

Like  me  and  Gilderoy. 

Wi'  mickle  joy  we  spent  our  prime, 

Till  we  were  baith  sixteen. 
And  aft  we  past  the  langsome  time,  35 

Among  the  leaves  sae  green  ; 
Aft  on  the  banks  we'd  sit  us  thair, 

And  sweetly  kiss  and  toy, 
Wi'  garlands  gay  wad  deck  my  hair 

My  handsome  Gilderoy.  40 

[Oh  !  that  he  still  had  been  content, 

Wi'  me  to  lead  his  life  ; 
But,  ah !  his  manfu'  heart  was  bent, 

To  stir  in  feates  of  strife  : 
And  he  in  many  a  venturous  deed,  45 

His  courage  bauld  wad  try  ; 
And  now  this  gars^  mine  heart  to  bleed, 

Vov  my  dear  Gilderoy. 

r^  shift.  2  makes.] 


322  GILDEROY. 


And  when  of  me  his  leave  he  tuik, 

The  tears  they  wat  mine  ee,  50 

I  gave  tull  him  a  parting  luik, 

"  My  benison  gang  \vi'  thee  ; 
God  speed  thee  weil,  mine  ain  dear  heart, 

For  gane  is  all  my  joy  ; 
My  heart  is  rent  sith  we  maun  part,  55 

My  handsome  Gilderoy."] 

My  Gilderoy  baith  far  and  near. 

Was  fear'd  in  every  toun. 
And  bauldly  bare  away  the  gear,^ 

Of  many  a  lawland  loun  :  60 

Nane  eir  durst  meet  him  man  to  man, 

He  was  sae  brave  a  boy ; 
At  length  wi'  numbers  he  was  tane, 

My  winsome"^  Gilderoy. 

Wae  worth  ^  the  loun  that  made  the  laws,     65 

To  hang  a  man  for  gear, 
To  'reave  of  life  for  ox  or  ass, 

For  sheep,  or  horse,  or  mare  : 
Had  not  their  laws  been  made  sae  strick, 

I  neir  had  lost  my  joy,  70 

Wi'  sorrow  neir  had  wat  my  cheek. 

For  my  dear  Gilderoy. 

Giff  Gilderoy  had  done  amisse. 

He  mought  hae  banisht  been  ; 
Ah  !  what  fair  cruelty  is  this,  75 

To  hang  sike  handsome  men  : 
( To  hang  the  flower  o'  Scottish  land, 

Sae  sweet  and  fair  a  boy  ; 
Nae  lady  had  sae  white  a  hand. 

As  thee,  my  Gilderoy.  80 

[1  property.         -  winning.         ^  woe  betide.] 


GILD  E  ROY.  32^ 


J 


Of  Gilderoy  sae  fraid  they  were, 

They  bound  him  mickle  strong, 
Tull  Edenburrow  they  led  him  thair. 

And  on  a  trallows  hunsf: 
They  hung  him  high  aboon  the  rest,  85 

He  was  sae  trim  a  boy  ; 
Thair  dyed  the  youth  whom  I  kied  best, 

My  handsome  Gilderoy. 

Thus  having  yielded  up  his  breath, 

I  bare  his  corpse  away,  90 

Wi'  tears,  that  trickled  for  his  death, 

I  washt  his  comelye  clay ; 
And  siker^  in  a  grave  sae  deep, 

I  laid  the  dear-lued  boy. 
And  now  for  evir  maun  I  weep,  95 

]\Iy  winsome  Gilderoy. 

* 


XIII. 
WINIFREDA. 

HIS  beautiful  address  to  conjugal  love,  a  subject  too 

much  neglected  by  the  libertine  Muses,  was,  I  believe, 

first  printed  in  a  volume  of  Miscellaneous  Poems,   by 

several  hands,  published  by  D.  [David]  Lewis,   1726, 

8vo. 

It  is  there  said,  how  truly  I  know  not,  to  be  "a  translation  from 
the  ancient  British  language." 

[^  secure.] 


324  WINIFREDA. 


|WAY  ;  let  nought  to  love  displeasing, 
My  Winifreda,  move  your  care ; 
Let  nought  delay  the  heavenly  blessing, 
Nor  squeamish  pride,  nor  gloomy  fear. 

What  tho'  no  grants  of  royal  donors  5 

With  pompous  titles  grace  our  blood  ; 

We'll  shine  in  more  substantial  honors, 
And  to  be  noble  we'll  be  Qf-ood. 

Our  name,  while  virtue  thus  we  tender, 

Will  sweetly  sound  where-e'er  'tis  spoke :      10 

And  all  the  great  ones,  they  shall  wonder 
How  they  respect  such  little  folk. 

What  though  from  fortune's  lavish  bounty 

No  mighty  treasures  we  possess  ; 
We'll  find  within  our  pittance  plenty,  15 

And  be  content  without  excess. 

Still  shall  each  returning  season 

Sufficient  for  our  wishes  give  ; 
For  we  will  live  a  life  of  reason, 

And  that's  the  only  life  to  live.  20 

Through  youth  and  age  in  love  excelling. 
We'll  hand  in  hand  together  tread  ; 

Sweet-smiling  peace  shall  crown  our  dwelling, 
And  babes,  sweet-smiling  babes,  our  bed. 

How  should  I  love  the  pretty  creatures,  15 

While  round  my  knees  they  fondly  clung ; 

To  see  them  look  their  mothers  features, 
To  hear  them  lisp  their  mothers  tongue. 


WINIFREDA, 

And  when  with  envy  time  transported, 
Shall  think  to  rob  us  of  our  joys, 

You'll  in  your  girls  again  be  courted, 
And  I'll  go  a  wooing  in  my  boys. 


325 


30 


XIV. 


THE  WITCH  OF  WOKEY 


:AS  published  in  a  small  collection  of  poems,  intitled 
Euthcmia,or  the  Pcnver  of  Hannony^  &c.  1756,  written 
in  1 748,  by  the  ingenious  Dr.  Harrmgton,  of  Bath,  who 
never  allowed  them  to  be  published,  and  withheld  his 
name  till  it  could  no  longer  be  concealed.  The  following  copy- 
was  furnished  by  the  late  Mr.  Shensto7ie,  with  some  variations  and 
corrections  of  his  own,  which  he  had  taken  the  liberty  to  propose, 
and  for  which  the  author's  indulgence  was  intreated.  In  this 
edition  it  was  intended  to  reprint  the  author's  ovrcv  original  copy ; 
but,  as  that  may  be  seen  correctly  given  in  Fcarc/is  Collection, 
vol.  i.  1783,  p.  161,  it  was  thought  the  reader  of  taste  would 
wish  to  have  the  variations  preserved,  they  are,  therefore,  still 
retained  here,  which  it  is  hoped  the  worthy  author  will  excuse  with 
his  wonted  liberality. 

Wokey-hole  is  a  noted  cavern  in  Somersetshire,  which  has  given 
birth  to  as  many  wild  fanciful  stories  as  the  Sybils  Cave,  in  Italy. 
Thro'  a  very  narrow  entrance,  it  opens  into  a  very  large  vault,  the 
roof  whereof,  either  on  account  of  its  height,  or  the  thickness  of 
the  gloom,  cannot  be  discovered  by  the  light  of  torches.  It  goes 
winding  a  great  way  underground,  is  crossed  by  a  stream  of  very 
cold  water,  and  is  all  horrid  with  broken  pieces  of  rock  :  many  of 
these  are  evident  petrifactions  ;  which,  on  account  of  their  singular 
forms,  have  given  rise  to  the  fables  alluded  to  in  this  poem. 


-,26       THE    WITCH    OF    WO  KEY. 


o 


'N  aunciente  days  tradition  showes 
A  base  and  wicked  elfe  arose, 

The  Witch  of  Wokey  hight : 
Oft  have  I  heard  the  fearful!  tale 
From  Sue,  and  Roger  of  the  vale,  s 

On  some  long  winter's  night. 

Deep  in  the  dreary  dismall  cell, 
Which  seem'd  and  was  ycleped  hell. 

This  blear-eyed  hag  did  hide  : 
Nine  wicked  elves,  as  legends  sayne,  lo 

She  chose  to  form  her  guardian  trayne, 

And  kennel  near  her  side. 

Here  screeching  owls  oft  made  their  nest, 
While  wolves  its  craggy  sides  possest, 

Night-howling  thro'  the  rock  :  15 

No  wholesome  herb  could  here  be  found ; 
She  blasted  every  plant  around. 

And  blister'd  every  flock. 

Her  haggard  face  was  foull  to  see  ; 

Her  mouth  unmeet  a  mouth  to  bee  ;  20 

Her  eyne  of  deadly  leer, 
She  nought  devis'd,  but  neighbour's  ill  ; 
She  wreak'd  on  all  her  wayward  will, 

And  marr  d  all  goodly  chear. 

All  in  her  prime,  have  poets  sung,  25 

No  gaudy  youth,  gallant  and  young. 

E'er  blest  her  longing  armes  ; 
And  hence  arose  her  spight  to  vex. 
And  blast  the  youth  of  either  sex,  \ 

By  dint  of  hellish  charms.  30 


THE    WITCH    OF    WO  KEY.      327 

From  Glaston  came  a  lerned  wiorht, 
F"ull  bent  to  marr  her  fell  despight, 

And  well  he  did,  I  ween  : 
Sich  mischief  never  had  been  known, 
And,  since  his  mickle  lerninge  shown,  35 

Sich  mischief  ne'er  has  been. 

He  chaimtede  out  his  godlie  booke, 
He  crost  the  water,  blest  the  brooke, 

Then — pater  noster  done, — 
The  ghastly  hag  he  sprinkled  o'er ;  40 

When  lo  !  where  stood  a  hag  before, 

Now  stood  a  ghastly  stone. 

Full  well  'tis  known  adown  the  dale  : 
Tho'  passing  strange  indeed  the  tale. 

And  doubtfull  may  appear.  ■  ^^ 

I'm  bold  to  say,  there's  never  a  one, 
That  has  not  seen  the  witch  in  stone, 

With  all  her  household  gear. 

But  tho'  this  lernede  clerke  did  well ; 

W^ith  grieved  heart,  alas  !   I  tell,  50 

She  left  this  curse  behind  : 
That  Wokey-nymphs  forsaken  quite, 
Tho'  sense  and  beauty  both  unite, 

Should  find  no  leman  kind. 

For  lo  !  even,  as  the  fiend  did  say,  55 

The  sex  have  found  it  to  this  day, 

That  men  are  wondrous  scant : 
Here's  l^eauty,  wit,  and  sense  combin'd, 
With  all  that's  good  and  virtuous  join'd, 

Yet  liardly  one  gallant.  60 

Shall  then  sich  maids  unpitied  moane  ? 
They  might  as  well,  like  her,  be  stone. 
As  thus  forsaken  dwell. 


J 


2S        BRYAN   AND    PEREENE. 

Since  Glaston  now  can  boast  no  clerks  ; 
Come  down  from  Oxenford,  ye  sparks,  65 

And,  oh !  revoke  the  spelL 

Yet  stay — nor  thus  despond,  ye  fair  ; 
Virtue's  the  gods'  pecuHar  care ; 

I  hear  the  gracious  voice  : 
Your  sex  shall  soon  be  blest  agen,  70 

We  only  wait  to  find  sich  men, 

As  best  deserve  your  choice. 


XV. 

BRYAN  AND  PEREENE, 
A  West  Indian  -Ballad, 

'  S  founded  on  a  real  fact,  that  happened  in  the  island  of 
St.  Christophers  about  the  beginning  of  the  present 
reign.  The  Editor  owes  the  following  stanzas  to  the 
friendship  of  X)x.  James  Grainger*  who  was  an  eminent 
physician  in  that  island  when  this  tragical  incident  happened,  and 
died  there  much  honoured  and  lamented  in  1767.  To  this  inge- 
nious gentleman  the  pubUc  are  indebted  for  the  fine  Ode  on  So- 
litude, printed  in  the  fourth  vol.  of  Dodsley's  Miscel.  p.  229,  in 
which  are  assembled  some  of  the  sublimest  images  in  nature. 
The  reader  will  pardon  the  insertion  of  the  first  stanza  here,  for 
the  sake  of  rectifying  the  two  last  lines,  which  were  thus  given  by 
the  author : 

"  O  Solitude,  romantic  maid, 
Whether  by  nodding  towers  you  tread. 
Or  haunt  the  desart's  trackless  gloom, 
Or  hover  o'er  the  yawning  tomb. 
Or  climb  the  Andes'  clifted  side, 
Or  by  the  Nile's  coy  source  abide, 

*  Author  of  a  poem  on  the  Culture  of  the  Sugar-  Cane,  &c. 


BRYAN    AND    PEREENE.       329 

Gr  starting  from  your  half-year's  sleep 
From  Hecla  view  the  thawing  deep, 
Or  at  the  purple  dawn  of  day 
Tadmor's  marble  wastes  survey,"  &:c. 

alluding  to  the  account  of  Palmyra  published  by  some  late  inge- 
nious travellers,  and  the  manner  in  which  they  were  struck  at  the 
first  sight  of  those  magnificent  ruins  by  break  of  day.* 


HE  north-east  wind  did  briskly  blow, 

The  ship  was  safely  moor'd  ; 
Young  Bryan  thought  the  boat's-crew  slow, 
And  so  leapt  over-board. 

Pereene,  the  pride  of  Indian  dames,  5 

His  heart  long  held  in  thrall ; 
And  whoso  his  impatience  blames, 

I  wot,  ne'er  lov'd  at  all. 

A  long  long  year,  one  month  and  day. 

He  dwelt  on  English  land,  10 

Nor  once  in  thought  or  deed  would  stray, 
Tho'  ladies  sought  his  hand. 

For  Bryan  he  was  tall  and  strong, 

Right  blythsome  roll'd  his  een. 
Sweet  was  his  voice  whene'er  he  sung,  15 

He  scant  had  twenty  seen. 

But  who  the  countless  charms  can  draw, 

That  grac'd  his  mistress  true ; 
Such  charms  the  old  world  seldom  saw, 

Nor  oft  I  ween  the  new.  ao 


♦  So  in  p.  235,  it  should  be,  Tiirtid  her  magic  ray. 


330        BRYAN   AND    PEREENE. 

Her  raven  hair  plays  round  her  neck, 

Like  tendrils  of  the  vine  ; 
Her  cheeks  red  dewy  rose-buds  deck, 

Her  eyes  like  diamonds  shine. 

Soon  as  his  well-known  ship  she  spied,  25 

She  cast  her  weeds  away, 
And  to  the  palmy  shore  she  hied, 

All  in  her  best  array. 

In  sea-green  silk  so  neatly  clad, 

She  there  impatient  stood  ;  30 

The  crew  with  wonder  saw  the  lad 

Repell  the  foaming  flood. 

Her  hands  a  handkerchief  display'd. 

Which  he  at  parting  gave  ; 
Well  pleas'd  the  token  he  survey'd,  35 

And  manlier  beat  the  wave. 

Her  fair  companions  one  and  all. 

Rejoicing  crowd  the  strand  ; 
For  now  her  lover  swam  in  call, 

And  almost  touch'd  the  land.  40 

Then  through  the  white  surf  did  she  haste, 

To  clasp  her  lovely  swain  ; 
When,  ah !  a  shark  bit  through  his  waste  : 

His  heart's  blood  dy'd  the  main  ! 

He  shriek'd!  his  half  sprang  from  the  wave,       45 

Streaming  with  purple  gore. 
And  soon  it  found  a  living  grave. 

And  ah !  was  seen  no  more. 

Now  haste,  now  haste,  ye  maids,  I  pray. 

Fetch  water  from  the  spring  :  50 

She  falls,  she  swoons,  she  dies  away, 
And  soon  her  knell  they  ring. 


GENTLE    RIVER.  v.i 


jj 


Now  each  May  morning  round  her  tomb 

Ye  fair,  fresh  flowerets  strew, 
So  may  your  lovers  scape  his  doom,  55 

Her  hapless  fate  scape  you. 


XVI. 

GENTLE   RIVER,  GENTLE  RIVER, 

Translated  from  the  Spanish. 

ALTHOUGH  the  English  are  remarkable  for  the  number 
and  variety  of  their  ancient  ballads,  and  retain  perhaps 
a  greater  fondness  for  these  old  simple  rhapsodies  of 
their  ancestors,  than  most  other  nations ;  they  are  not 
the  only  people  who  have  distinguished  themselves  by  compositions 
of  this  kind.  The  Spaniards  have  great  multitudes  of  them,  many 
of  which  are  of  tlie  highest  merit.  The}'  call  them  in  their  lan- 
guage Romances^  and  have  collected  them  into  volumes  under  the 
titles  of  El  Roitiajicero,  El  Caiuionero*  &c.  Most  of  them  relate 
to  their  conflicts  ^\^th  the  Moors,  and  display  a  spirit  of  gallantry 
peculiar  to  that  romantic  people.  But  of  all  the  Spanish  ballads 
none  exceed  in  poetical  merit  those  inserted  in  a  little  Spanish 
History  of  the  civil  wars  of  Gratiada,  describing  the  dissensions 
which  raged  in  that  last  seat  of  Moorish  empire  before  it  was  con- 
quered in  the  reign  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  in  149 1.  In  this 
history  (or  perhaps  romance)  a  great  number  of  heroic  songs  are 
inserted  and  appealed  to  as  authentic  vouchers  for  the  truth  of 
facts.  In  reality  the  prose  narrative  seems  to  be  drawn  uj)  for  no 
other  end,  but  to  introduce  and  illustrate  tliose  beautiful  pieces. 

The  Spanish  editor  pretends  (how  truly  1  know  not)  that  they 
are  translations  from  the  Arabic  or  Morisco  language.  Indeed, 
from  the  plain  unadorned  nature  of  the  verse,  and  the  native  sim- 
plicity of  the  language  and  sentiment,  which  runs  through  these 
poems,  one  would  judge  them  to  have  been  composed  soon  after 
the  conquest  of  Granadaf  above  mentioned;  as  the  prose  narrative 


i.e.  The  ballad-singer.  f  See  vol.  iii.  Aj)pendix. 


332  GENTLE    RIVER, 

in  which  they  are  inserted  was  published  about  a  centuiy  after. 
It  should  seem,  at  least,  that  they  were  written  before  the  Cas- 
tillians  had  formed  themselves  so  generally,  as  they  have  done 
since,  on  the  model  of  the  Tuscan  poets,  or  had  imported  from 
Italy  that  fondness  for  conceit  and  refinement,  which  has  for  near 
two  centuries  past  so  much  infected  the  Spanish  poetry,  and 
rendered  it  so  frequently  affected  and  obscure. 

As  a  specimen  of  the  ancient  Spanish  manner,  which  very  much 
resembles  that  of  our  English  bards  and  minstrels,  the  reader  is 
desired  candidly  to  accept  the  two  folloAving  poems.  They  are 
given  from  a  small  collection  of  pieces  of  this  kind,  which  the 
Editor  some  years  ago  translated  for  his  amusement  when  he  was 
studying  the  Spanish  language.  As  the  first  is  a  pretty  close  trans- 
lation, to  gratify  the  curious  it  is  accompanied  with  the  original. 
The  metre  is  the  same  in  all  these  old  Spanish  ballads  :  it  is  of  the 
most  simple  construction,  and  is  still  used  by  the  common  people 
in  their  extemporaneous  songs,  as  we  learn  from  Baretti's  Travels. 
It  nms  in  short  stanzas  of  four  lines,  of  which  the  second  and 
fourth  alone  correspond  in  their  terminations;  and  in  these  it  is 
only  required  that  the  vowels  should  be  alike,  the  consonants  may 
be  altogether  different,  as 

pone  casa  meten  arcos 

noble  canas  muere  gamo 

Yet  has  this  kind  of  verse  a  sort  of  simple  harmonious  flow,  which 
atones  for  the  imperfect  nature  of  the  rhyme,  and  renders  it  not 
impleasing  to  the  ear.  The  same  flow  of  numbers  has  been 
studied  in  the  following  versions.  The  first  of  them  is  given  from 
two  different  originals,  both  of  which  are  printed  in  the  Hist,  de  las 
civiles  guerras  de  Granada,  Mad.  1694.  One  of  them  hath  the 
rhymes  ending  in  aa,  the  other  in  ia.  It  is  the  former  of  these 
that  is  here  reprinted.  They  both  of  them  begin  with  the  same 
line : 

"  Rio  verde,  rio  verde,"* 

which  could  not  be  translated  faithfully : 

"  Verdant  river,  verdant  river," 

would  have  given  an  affected  stiffness  to  the  verse ;  the  great  merit 


*  Literally,  Green  river,  green  river.  [Percy  found  out,  after 
writing  this,  that  Rio  Verde  is  the  name  of  a  river  in  Spain,  a  fact, 
which  he  writes,  "  ought  to  have  been  attended  to  by  the  trans- 
lator, had  he  known  it."] 


GENTLE    RIVER.  333 

of  which  is  easy  simplicity ;  and  therefore  a  more  simple  epithet 
was  adopted,  though  less  poetical  or  expressive. 

[The  two  following  Spanish  ballads  are  peculiarly  out  of  place  in 
a  collection  of  English  ballads,  and  they  are  not  very  good  speci- 
mens of  the  class  from  which  they  are  taken.  Those  who  wish  for 
information  on  Spanish  ballads  must  refer  to  Ticknor's  History  of 
Spanish  Literature ;  T.  Rodd's  Ancient  Spanish  Ballads,  relating 
to  the  Tii'clve  Peers  of  France  mentioned  in  Don  Quixote,  2  vols. 
London,  1821;  and  J.  G.  Lockhart's  Ancient  Spanish  Ballads, 
historical  and  romantic,  1823.] 


334 


GENTLE    RIVER. 


lO  verde,  rio  verde, 

Ouanto  cuerpo  en  ti  se  bana 
De  Christianos  y  de  Moros 
Muertos  por  la  dura  espada  ! 


Y  tus  ondas  cristalinas 

De  roxa  sangre  se  esmaltan : 
Entre  Moros  y  Christianos 
Muy  gran  batalla  se  trava. 

Murieron  Duques  y  Condes, 
Grandes  seiiores  de  salva: 

Murio  gente  de  valia 

De  la  nobleza  de  Espafia. 

En  ti  murio  don  Alonso, 

Que  de  Aguilar  se  Ilamaba  ; 

El  valeroso  Urdiales, 

Con  don  Alonso  acababa. 

Por  un  ladera  arriba 

El  buen  Sayavedra  marcha ; 
Naturel  es  de  Sevilla, 

De  la  gente  mas  granada. 

Tras  el  iba  un  Renegado, 
Desta  manera  le  habla  ; 

Date,  date,  Sayavedra, 
No  huyas  de  la  Batalla. 

Yo  te  conozco  muy  bien, 

Gran  tiempo  estuve  en  tu  casa ; 

Y  en  la  Pla9a  de  Sevilla 
Bien  te  vide  jugar  cafias. 


lO 


IS 


20 


*5 


GENTLE    RIVER.  335 


ENTLE  river,  gentle  river, 

Lo,  thy  streams  are  stain'd  with  gore, 
Many  a  brave  and  noble  captain 
Floats  along  thy  willow'd  shore. 

All  beside  thy  limpid  waters,  5 

All  beside  thy  sands  so  bright, 
Moorish  Chiefs  and  Christian  Warriors 

Join'd  in  fierce  and  mortal  fight. 

Lords,  and  dukes,  and  noble  princes 

On  thy  fatal  banks  were  slain  :  10 

Fatal  banks  that  gave  to  slaughter 
All  the  pride  and  flower  of  Spain. 

There  the  hero,  brave  Alonzo 

Full  of  wounds  and  glory  died  : 
There  the  fearless  Urdiales  15 

Fell  a  victim  by  his  side. 

Lo  !  where  yonder  Don  Saavedra 
Thro'  their  squadrons  slow  retires ; 

Proud  Seville,  his  native  city. 

Proud  Seville  his  worth  admires.  20 

Close  behind  a  renegado 

Loudly  shouts  with  taunting  cry  ; 

Yield  thee,  yield  thee,  Don  Saavedra, 
Dost  thou  from  the  battle  fly  ? 

Well  I  know  thee,  haughty  Christian,  25 

Long  1  liv'd  beneath  thy  roof; 
Oft  I've  in  the  lists  of  glory 

Seen  thee  win  the  prize  of  proof. 


136  GENTLE    RIVER, 

Conozco  a  tu  padre  y  madre, 

Y  a  tu  muger  dona  Clara  ;  30 

Siete  anos  fui  tu  cautivo, 

Malamente  me  tratabas. 

Y  aora  lo  seras  mio, 

Si  Mahoma  me  ayudara ; 

Y  tambien  te  tratare,  35 
Como  a  mi  me  tratabas. 

Sayavedra  que  lo  oyera, 

Al  Moro  bolvio  la  cara ; 
Tirole  el  Moro  una  flecha, 

Pero  nunca  le  acertaba.  40 

Hiriole  Sayavedra 

De  una  herida  muy  mala : 
Muerto  cayo  el  Renegado 

Sin  poder  hablar  palabra. 

Sayavedra  fue  cercado  45 

De  mucha  Mora  canalla, 

Y  al  cabo  cayo  alii  muerto 
De  una  muy  mala  lan9ada. 

Don  Alonso  en  este  tiempo 

Bravamente  peleava,  50 

Y  el  cavallo  le  avian  muerto, 
Y  le  tiene  por  muralla. 

Mas  cargaron  tantos  Moros 

Que  mal  le  hieren  y  tratan  : 
De  la  sangre,  que  perdia,  55 

Don  Alonso  se  desmaya. 

Al  fin,  al  fin  cayo  muerto 
Al  pie  de  un  pena  alta. 

Muerto  queda  don  Alonso, 

Eterna  fama  ganara.  60 

^n  ^K  ^S  Jf*  ^^ 


GENTLE    RIVER.  337 

Well  I  know  thy  aged  parents, 

Well  thy  blooming  bride  I  know  ;  30 

Seven  years  I  was  thy  captive. 

Seven  years  of  pain  and  woe. 

May  our  prophet  grant  my  wishes, 
Haughty  chief,  thou  shalt  be  mine : 

Thou  shalt  drink  that  cup  of  sorrow,  35 

Which  I  drank  when  I  was  thine. 

Like  a  lion  turns  the  warrior, 

Back  he  sends  an  angry  glare  : 
Whizzing  came  the  Moorish  javelin, 

Vainly  whizzing  thro'  the  air.  40 

Back  the  hero  full  of  fury 

Sent  a  deep  and  mortal  wound  : 

Instant  sunk  the  Renegado, 

Mute  and  lifeless  on  the  orround. 


With  a  thousand  Moors  surrounded,  4.5 

Brave  Saavedra  stands  at  bay  : 
Wearied  out  but  never  daunted, 

Cold  at  length  the  warrior  lay. 

Near  him  fiorhtino;  areat  Alonzo 

Stout  resists  the  Paynirn  bands  ;  50 

From  his  slaughter'd  steed  dismounted 

Firm  intrench'd  behind  him  stands. 

Furious  press  the  hostile  squadron, 

Furious  he  repels  their  rage  : 
Loss  of  blood  at  length  enfeebles  :  55 

Who  can  war  with  tliousands  wage  ! 

Where  yon  rock  the  plain  o'ershadows 

Close  beneath  its  foot  retir'd, 
Fainting  sunk  the  bleeding  hero, 

And  without  a  groan  expir'd.  60 


338  GENTLE    RIVER. 

*^*  In  the  Spanish  original  of  the  foregoing  ballad  follow  a  few 
more  stanzas,  but  being  of  inferior  merit  were  not  translated. 

Renegado  properly  signifies  an  Apostate;  but  it  is  sometimes 
used  to  express  an  Infidel  in  general ;  as  it  seems  to  do  above  in 
ver.  21,  &c. 

The  image  of  the  Lion,  &c.  in  ver.  37,  is  taken  from  the  other 
Spanish  copy,  the  rhymes  of  which  end  in  ia,  viz. 

"  Sayavedra,  que  lo  oyera, 
"  Como  un  leon  rebolbia." 


XVII. 
ALCANZOR   AND   ZAYDA, 

A   MOORISH    TALE;, 

Imitated  from  the  Spanish. 

I' HE  foregoing  version  was  rendered  as  literal  as   the"^' 
nature  of  the  two  languages  would  admit.      In  the  fol-  ')      ^ 
lowing  a  wider  compass  hath  been  taken.    The  Spanish 
poem  that  was  chiefly  had  in  view  is  preserved  in  the 
same  history  of  the  Civil  Wars  of  Granada,  f.  22,  and  begins  with 
these  lines : 

"  For  la  calle  de  su  dama 
"  Passeando  se  anda,"  &c. 


OFTLY  blow  the  evening  breezes, 
Softly  fall  the  dews  of  night ; 
Yonder  walks  the  Moor  Alcanzor, 
Shunning  every  glare  of  light. 

In  yon  palace  lives  fair  Zaida, 

Whom  he  loves  with  flame  so  pure : 


ALCANZOR  AND  ZAYDA.         339 

Loveliest  she  of  Moorish  ladies  ; 
He  a  young  and  noble  IMoor. 

Waiting  for  the  appointed  minute, 

Oft  he  paces  to  and  fro  ;  10 

Stopping  now,  now  moving  forwards, 

Sometimes  quick,  and  sometimes  slow. 

Hope  and  fear  alternate  teize  him, 
Oft  he  sighs  with  heart-felt  care. 

See,  fond  youth,  to  yonder  window  15 

Softly  steps  the  timorous  fair. 

Lovely  seems  the  moon's  fair  lustre 

To  the  lost  beniorhted  swain. 
When  all  silvery  bright  she  rises. 

Gilding  mountain,  grove,  and  plain.  20 

Lovely  seems  the  sun's  full  glory 

To  the  fainting  seaman's  eyes, 
When  some  horrid  storm  dispersing 

O'er  the  wave  his  radiance  flies. 

But  a  thousand  times  more  lovely  25 

To  her  lon^-ino;  lover's  sio^ht 
Steals  half-seen  the  beauteous  maiden 

Thro'  the  glimmerings  of  the  night. 

Tip-toe  stands  the  anxious  lover, 

Whispering  forth  a  gentle  sigh  :  30 

Alia*  keep  thee,  lovely  lady ; 

Tell  me,  am  I  doom'd  to  die  ? 

Is  it  true  the  dreadful  story, 

Whicli  thy  damsel  tells  my  page, 
That  seduc'd  by  sordid  riches  35 

Thou  wilt  sell  thy  bloom  to  age  ? 


♦  Alia  is  the  Mahometan  name  of  God. 


340      ALCANZOR  AND  ZAYDA. 

An  old  lord  from  Antiquera 
Thy  stern  father  brings  along ; 

But  canst  thou,  inconstant  Zaida, 

Thus  consent  my  love  to  wrong  ?  4.0 

If  'tis  true  now  plainly  tell  me, 

Nor  thus  trifle  with  my  woes  ; 
Hide  not  then  from  me  the  secret, 

Which  the  world  so  clearly  knows. 

Deeply  sigh'd  the  conscious  maiden,  4.5 

While  the  pearly  tears  descend  : 

Ah  !  my  lord,  too  true  the  story  ; 
Here  our  tender  loves  must  end. 

Our  fond  friendship  is  discover'd, 

Well  are  known  our  mutual  vows  :  50 

All  my  friends  are  full  of  fury  ; 

Storms  of  passion  shake  the  house. 

Threats,  reproaches,  fears  surround  me ; 

My  stern  father  breaks  my  heart : 
Alia  knows  how  dear  it  costs  me,  55 

Generous  youth,  from  thee  to  part. 

Ancient  wounds  of  hostile  fury 

Long  have  rent  our  house  and  thine  ; 

Why  then  did  thy  shining  merit 

Win  this  tender  heart  of  mine  ?  60 

Well  thou  know'st  how  dear  I  lov'd  thee 
Spite  of  all  their  hateful  pride, 

Tho'  I  fear'd  my  haughty  father 
Ne'er  would  let  me  be  thy  bride. 

Well  thou  know'st  what  cruel  chidings  65 

Oft  I've  from  my  mother  borne  ; 


ALCANZOR  AND  ZAYDA.        341 

What  I've  suffered  here  to  meet  thee 
Still  at  eve  and  early  morn. 

I  no  longer  may  resist  them  ; 

All,  to  force  my  hand  combine  ;  70 

And  to-morrow  to  thy  rival 

This  weak  frame  I  must  resign. 

Yet  think  not  thy  faithful  Zaida 

Can  survive  so  great  a  wrong  ; 
Well  my  breaking  heart  assures  me  75 

That  my  woes  will  not  be  long. 

Farewell  then,  my  dear  Alcanzor  ! 

Farewell  too  my  life  with  thee ! 
Take  this  scarf  a  parting  token  ; 

When  thou  wear'st  it  think  on  me.  80 

Soon,  lov'd  youth,  some  worthier  maiden 

Shall  reward  thy  generous  truth  ; 
Sometimes  tell  her  how  thy  Zaida 

Died  for  thee  in  prime  of  youth. 

— To  him  all  amaz'd,  confounded,  85 

Thus  she  did  her  woes  impart : 
Deep  he  sigh'd,  then  cry'd, — O  Zaida ! 

Do  not,  do  not  break  my  heart. 

Canst  thou  think  I  thus  will  lose  thee  ? 

Canst  thou  hold  my  love  so  small  ?  90 

No  !  a  thousand  times  I'll  perish  ! 

My  curst  rival  too  shall  fall. 

Canst  thou,  wilt  thou  yield  thus  to  them  ? 

O  break  forth,  and  lly  to  me  ! 
This  fond  heart  shall  bleed  to  save  thee,  95 

These  fond  arms  shall  shelter  thee. 


342      ALCANZOR  AND  ZAYDA. 

'Tis  in  vain,  in  vain,  Alcanzor, 
Spies  surround  me,  bars  secure  : 

Scarce  I  steal  this  last  dear  moment, 

While  my  damsel  keeps  the  door.  loo 

Hark,  I  hear  my  father  storming! 

Hark,  I  hear  my  mother  chide! 
I  must  go  :  farewell  for  ever  ! 

Gracious  Alia  be  thy  guide  ! 


THE  END  OF  THE  THIRD  BOOK. 


APPENDIX    I. 


AN    ESSAY    ON    THE    ANCIENT 


MINSTRELS  IN  ENGLAND. 


<' 


APPENDIX    I. 


AN    ESSAY    ON    THE    ANCIENT 


MINSTRELS  IN  ENGLAND. 


<ag<c;<3to<^>^ 


I. 

HE  Minstrels  (a)  were  an  order  of  men 
in  the  middle  ages,  who  subsisted  by 
the  arts  of  poetry  and  music,  and  sang 
to  the  harp  verses  composed  by  them- 
selves, or  others.*  They  also  appear  to  have  ac- 
companied their  songs  with  mimicry  and  action  ; 
and  to  have  practised  such  various  means  of  divert- 
ing as  were  much  admired  in  those  rude  times,  and 


(a)  The  larger  Notes  and  Illustrations  referred  to  by  the  capital 
letters  (a)  (b)  &c.  are  thrown  together  to  the  end  of  this  essay. 

*  Wedded  to  no  hypothesis,  the  author  hath  readily  corrected 
any  mistakes  which  have  been  proved  to  be  in  this  essay  ;  and  con- 
sidering the  novelty  of  the  subject,  and  the  time  and  place  when 
and  where  he  first  took  it  up,  many  such  had  been  excusable. — 
That  the  term  Minstrel  was  not  confined,  as  some  contend,  to  a 
meer  musician  in  this  country,  any  more  than  on  the  Continent,  will 
be  considered  more  fully  in  the  last  note  (C>  g)  at  the  end  of  this 
essay. 


346  AN   ESSAY    ON 

supplied  the  want  of  more  refined  entertainment. (b) 
These  arts  rendered  them  extremely  popular  and 
acceptable  in  this  and  all  the  neighbouring  countries ; 
where  no  high  scene  of  festivity  was  esteemed  com- 
plete, that  was  not  set  off  with  the  exercise  of  their 
talents  ;  and  where,  so  long  as  the  spirit  of  chivalry 
subsisted,  they  were  protected  and  caressed,  because 
their  songs  tended  to  do  honour  to  the  ruling  passion 
of  the  times,  and  to  encourage  and  foment  a  martial 
spirit. 

The  Minstrels  seem  to  have  been  the  genuine 
successors  of  the  ancient  Bards,  (c)  who  under  dif- 
ferent names  were  admired  and  revered,  from  the 
earliest  ages,  among  the  people  of  Gaul,  Britain, 
Ireland,  and  the  North ;  and  indeed  by  almost  all 
the  first  inhabitants  of  Europe,  whether  of  Celtic  or 
Gothic  race ;  *  but  by  none  more  than  by  our  own 
Teutonic  ancestors,!  particularly  by  all  the  Danish 
tribes.:}:  Among  these  they  were  distinguished  by 
the  name  of  Scalds,  a  word  which  denotes  "Smoothers 
and  Polishers  of  language."  §  The  origin  of  their 
art  was  attributed  to  Odin  or  Woden,  the  father  of 
their  gods  ;  and  the  professors  of  it  were  held  in  the 
highest  estimation.  Their  skill  was  considered  as 
something  divine;  their  persons  were  deemed  sacred; 
their  attendance  was  solicited  by  kings ;  and  they 
were  everywhere  loaded  with  honours  and  rewards. 
In  short,  Poets  and  their  art  were  held  among  them 


'    *  Vid.  Pelloutier,  Hist,  des  Celtes,  torn.  i.  1.  2.  c.  6.  lo. 

t  Tacit,  de  Mor.  Gentt.  cap.  2. 

\  Vid.  Bartholin,  de  Causis  contemptce  a  Danis  Jttorfis,  lib.  i.  cap. 
10. —  WormiJ  Literatura  Rtmic.  ad  finem. — See  also  Northern 
Antiquities,  or,  A  Descriptioji  of  the  Mariners,  Custo?ns,  6^^.  of  the 
ancie?it  Danes  a?id  other  northern  nations :  from  the  French  of  M. 
Mallet.     London,  printed  for  T.  Caman,  1770,  2  vols.  8vo. 

§  Torfcei  Frafat.  ad  Oread.  Hist. — Pref.  to  Five  Pieces  of  Runic 
Poetry,  &c. 


THE    ANCIENT   MINSTRELS.     347 

in  that  rude  admiration,  which  is  ever  shewn  by  an 
ignorant  people  to  such  as  excel  them  in  intellectual 
accomplishments. 

As  these  honours  were  paid  to  Poetry  and  Song, 
from  the  earliest  times,  in  those  countries  which  our 
Anolo-Saxon  ancestors  inhabited  before  their  removal 
into  Britain,  we  may  reasonably  conclude  that  they 
would  not  lay  aside  all  their  regard  for  men  of  this 
sort  immediately  on  quitting  their  German  forests. 
At  least  so  long  as  they  retained  their  ancient  man- 
ners and  opinions,  they  would  still  hold  them  in  high 
estimation.  But  as  the  Saxons,  soon  after  their  es- 
tablishment in  this  island,  were  converted  to  Chris- 
tianity ;  in  proportion  as  literature  prevailed  among 
them,  this  rude  admiration  would  begin  to  abate,  and 
Poetry  would  be  no  longer  a  peculiar  profession. 
Thus  the  Poet  and  the  Minstrel  early  with  us  be- 
came two  persons,  (d)  Poetry  was  cultivated  by 
men  of  letters  indiscriminately,  and  many  of  the  most 
popular  rhymes  were  composed  amidst  the  leisure 
and  retirement  of  monasteries.  But  the  Minstrels 
continued  a  distinct  order  of  men  for  many  ages  after 
the  Norman  Conquest,  and  got  their  livelihood  by 
singing  verses  to  the  harp  at  the  houses  of  the 
great. (e)  There  they  were  still  hospitably  and  re- 
spectfully receiv^ed,  and  retained  many  of  the  honours 
shewn  to  their  predecessors,  the  Bards  and  Scalds. (f) 
And  though,  as  their  art  declined,  many  of  them  only 
recited  the  compositions  of  others,  some  of  them  still 
composed  songs  themselves,  and  all  of  them  could 
probably  invent  a  few  stanzas  on  occasion.  I  have 
no  doubt  but  most  of  the  old  heroic  ballads  in  this 
collection  were  composed  by  this  order  of  men  ;  for 
although  some  of  the  larger  metrical  romances  might 
come  from  the  pen  of  the  monks  or  others,  yet  the 
smaller  narratives  were  probably  composed  by  the 
minstrels  who  sang  them.      P>om  the  amazing  varia- 


348  AN   ESSAY   ON 

tions  which  occur  in  different  copies  of  the  old  pieces, 
it  is  evident  they  made  no  scruple  to  alter  each 
other's  productions ;  and  the  reciter  added  or  omitted 
whole  stanzas  according  to  his  own  fancy  or  conve- 
nience. 

In  the  early  ages,  as  was  hinted  above,  the  profes- 
sion of  oral  itinerant  poet  was  held  in  the  utmost 
reverence  among  all  the  Danish  tribes ;  and  therefore 
we  might  have  concluded  that  it  was  not  unknown  or 
unrespected  among  their  Saxon  brethren  in  Britain, 
even  if  history  had  been  altogether  silent  on  this 
subject.  The  original  country  of  our  Anglo-Saxon 
ancestors  is  well  known  to  have  lien  chiefly  in  the 
Cimbric  Chersonese,  in  the  tracts  of  land  since  dis- 
tinguished by  the  name  of  Jutland,  Angelen,  and  Hol- 
stein.*  The  Jutes  and  Angles  in  particular,  who 
composed  two-thirds  of  the  conquerors  of  Britain, 
were  a  Danish  people,  and  their  country  at  this  day 
belongs  to  the  crown  of  Denmark;!  so  that  when  the 
Danes  again  infested  England,  three  or  four  hundred 
years  after,  they  made  war  on  the  descendants  of 
their  own  ancestors.]:  From  this  near  affinity  we 
might  expect  to  discover  a  strong  resemblance  be- 
tween both  nations  in  their  customs,  manners,  and 
even  language ;  and,  in  fact,  we  find  them  to  differ 
no  more  than  would  naturally  happen  between  a 
parent  country  and  its  own  colonies,  that  had  been 
severed  in  a  rude,  uncivilized  state,  and  had  dropt  all 


w  *  Vid.  Chronic.  Saxon,  a  Gibson,  pp.  12,  13,  4to. — Bed.  Hist. 
Ecdes.  a  Smith,  lib.  i,  c.  15. — "  Ealdsexe  [Regio  antiq.  Saxonum] 
in  cervice  Cimbricae  Chersonesi,  Holsatiam  proprie  dictam,  Dith- 
marsiam,  Stormariam,  et  Wagriam,  complectens." — Annot.  in  Bed. 
a  Sfnith,  p.  52.     Et  vid.  Camdeni  Britan. 

t  "  Anglia  Vetus,  hodie  etiam  Anglen,  sita  est  inter  Saxones  et 
Giotes  [Jutos],  habens  oppidum  capitale  .  .  .  Sleswick." — Ethel- 
werd,  lib.  i. 

\  ^tt  Northern  Antiquities, S^c.  vol.  i.  pp.  7,  8,  185,  259,  260,  261. 


THE    ANCIENT   MINSTRELS.     349 

intercourse  for  three  or  four  centuries,  especially  if  we 
reflect  that  the  colony  here  settled  had  adopted  a 
new  religion,  extremely  opposite  in  all  respects  to  the 
ancient  paganism  of  the  mother  country  ;  and  that 
even  at  first,  along  with  the  original  Angli,  had  been 
incorporated  a  large  mixture  of  Saxons  from  the 
/_neighbouring  parts  of  Germany ;  and  afterwards, 
among  the  Danish  invaders,  had  come  vast  multi- 
tudes of  adventurers  from  the  more  northern  parts  of 
Scandinavia.  But  all  these  were  only  different  tribes 
of  the  same  common  Teutonic  stock,  and  spoke  only 
different  dialects  of  the  same  Gothic  language.* 

From  this  sameness  of  original  and  similarity  of 
manners  we  might  justly  have  wondered  if  a  charac- 
ter so  difrnified  and  distintruished  amonc^^  the  ancient 
Danes  as  the  Scald  or  Bard,  had  been  totally  un- 
known or  unregarded  in  this  sister  nation.  And, 
indeed,  this  argument  is  so  strong,  and,  at  the  same 
time,  the  early  annals  of  the  Anglo-Saxons  are  so 
scanty  and  defective, (g)  that  no  objections  from 
their  silence  could  be  sufficient  to  overthrow  it.  For 
if  these  popular  bards  were  confessedly  revered  and 
admired  in  those  very  countries  which  the  Anglo- 
Saxons  inhabited  before  their  removal  into  Britain, 
and  if  they  were  afterwards  common  and  numerous 
among  the  other  descendants  of  the  same  Teutonic 
ancestors,  can  we  do  otherwise  than  conclude  that 
men  of  this  order  accompanied  such  tribes  as  mi- 
grated hither,  that  they  afterwards  subsisted  here, 
though  perhaps  with  less  splendor  than  in  the 
North,  and  that  there  never  was  wanting  a  succes- 
sion of  them  to  hand  down  the  art,  though  some  par- 
ticular conjunctures  may  have  rendered  it  more  re- 
spectable at  one  time  than  another  ?  And  this  was 
evidently  the  case ;  for  though  much  greater  honours 

*  See  Northern  Antiquities^  Preface,  p.  xxvi. 


350  AN  ESSAY    ON 

seem  to  have  been  heaped  upon  the  northern  Scalds, 
in  whom  the  characters  of  historian,  genealogist,  poet, 
and  musician  were  all  united,  than  appear  to  have 
been  paid  to  the  minstrels  and  harpers(H)  of  the 
Anglo-Saxons,  whose  talents  were  chiefly  calculated 
to  entertain  and  divert,  while  the  Scalds  professed  to 
inform  and  instruct,  and  were  at  once  the  moralists 
and  theologues  of  their  pagan  countrymen.  Yet  the 
Anglo-Saxon  minstrels  continued  to  possess  no  small 
portion  of  public  favour,  and  the  arts  they  professed 
were  so  extremely  acceptable  to  our  ancestors  that 
the  word  "  Glee,"  which  particularly  denoted  their 
art,  continues  still  in  our  own  language  to  be  of  all 
others  the  most  expressive  of  that  popular  mirth  and 
jollity,  that  strong  sensation  of  delight,  which  is  felt 
by  unpolished  and  simple  minds,  (i) 

II.  Having  premised  these  general  considerations, 
I  shall  now  proceed  to  collect  from  history  such  par- 
ticular incidents  as  occur  on  this  subject ;  and, 
whether  the  facts  themselves  are  true  or  not,  they 
are  related  by  authors  who  lived  too  near  the  Saxon 
times,  and  had  before  them  too  many  recent  monu- 
ments of  the  Anglo-Saxon  nation,  not  to  know  what 
was  conformable  to  the  genius  and  manners  of  that 
people ;  and  therefore  we  may  presume  that  their 
relations  prove  at  least  the  existence  of  the  customs 
and  habits  they  attribute  to  our  forefathers  before 
the  Conquest,  whatever  becomes  of  the  particular  in- 
cidents and  events  themselves.  If  this  be  admitted, 
we  shall  not  want  sufficient  proofs  to  show  that  min- 
strelsy and  song  were  not  extinct  among  the  Anglo- 
Saxons,  and  that  the  professor  of  them  here,  if  not 
quite  so  respectable  a  personage  as  the  Danish  Scald, 
was  yet  highly  favoured  and  protected,  and  continued 
still  to  enjoy  considerable  privileges. 

Even  so  early  as  the  first  invasion  of  Britain  by 


THE    ANCIENT   MINSTRELS.     351 

the  Saxons  an  incident  is  recorded  to  have  happened, 
which,  if  true,  shews  that  the  minstrel  or  bard  was 
not  unknown  among  this  people,  and  that  their 
princes  themselves  could,  upon  occasion,  assume  that 
character.  Colgrin,  son  of  that  Ella  who  was  elected 
kino-  or  leader  of  the  Saxons  in  the  room  of  Heneist,* 
was  shut  up  in  York,  and  closely  besieged  by  Ar- 
thur and  his  Britons.  Baldulph,  brother  of  Colgrin, 
wanted  to  gain  access  to  him,  and  to  apprize  him  of 
a  reinforcement  which  was  coming  from  Germany. 
He  had  no  other  way  to  accomplish  his  design  but 
to  assume  the  character  of  a  minstrel.  He  therefore 
shaved  his  head  and  beard,  and  dressing  himself  in 
the  habit  of  that  profession,  took  his  harp  in  his  hand. 
In  this  disguise  he  walked  up  and  down  the  trenches 
without  suspicion,  playing  all  the  while  upon  his 
instrument  as  an  harper.  By  little  and  little  he  ad- 
vanced near  to  the  walls  of  the  city,  and,  making 
himself  known  to  the  centinels,  was  in  the  niofht 
drawn  up  by  a  rope. 

Although  the  above  fact  comes  only  from  the  sus- 
picious pen  of  Geoffry  of  Monmouth, (k)  the  judicious 
reader  will  not  too  hastily  reject  it,  because,  if  such  a 
fact  really  happened,  it  could  only  be  known  to  us 
throucrh  the  medium  of  the  British  writers  :  for  the 
first  Saxons,  a  martial  but  unlettered  people,  had  no 
historians  of  their  own  ;  and  Geoffry,  with  all  his 
fables,  is  allowed  to  have  recorded  many  true  events 
that  have  escaped  other  annalists. 

We  do  not,  however,  want  instances  of  a  less  fabu- 
lous tera,  and  more  indubitable  authority :  for  later 
history  affords  us  two  remarkable  facts,(L)  which  I 
think  clearly  shew  that  the  same  arts  of  poetry  and 
song,  which  were  so  much  admired  among  the  Danes, 

*  See    Rafiin's  Hist,   (by   'J'indal,   fol.  1732,  vol.  i.   p.  36)  who 
places  the  incident  here  related  under  the  year  495. 


352  AN   ESSAY    ON 

were  by  no  means  unknown  or  neglected  in  this  sister 
nation,  and  that  the  privileges  and  honours  which 
were  so  lavishly  bestowed  upon  the  northern  Scalds, 
were  not  wholly  withheld  from  the  Anglo-Saxon 
minstrels. 

Our  great  King  Alfred,  who  is  expressly  said  to 
have  excelled  in  music,*  being  desirous  to  learn  the 
true  situation  of  the  Danish  army,  which  had  invaded 
his  realm,  assumed  the  dress  and  character  of  a  min- 
strel, (m)  when,  taking  his  harp,  and  one  of  the  most 
trusty  of  his  friends  disguised  as  a  servant  f  (for  in 
the  early  times  it  was  not  unusual  for  a  minstrel  to 
have  a  servant  to  carry  his  harp),  he  went  with  the 
utmost  security  into  the  Danish  camp ;  and,  though 
he  could  not  but  be  known  to  be  a  Saxon  by  his  dia- 
lect, the  character  he  had  assumed  procured  him  a 
hospitable  reception.  He  was  admitted  to  entertain 
the  king  at  table,  and  staid  among  them  long  enough 
to  contrive  that  assault  which  afterwards  destroyed 
them.     This  was  in  the  year  878. 

About  fifty  years  after,!  a  Danish  king  made  use 
of  the  same  disguise  to  explore  the  camp  of  our  king 
Athelstan.  With  his  harp  in  his  hand,  and  dressed 
like  a  minstrel,  (n)  Aulaff,§  king  of  the  Danes,  went 
among  the  Saxon  tents ;  and,  taking  his  stand  near 
the  king's  pavilion,  began  to  play,  and  was  imme- 
diately admitted.  There  he  entertained  Athelstan 
and  his  lords  with  his  singing  and  his  music,  and  was 


*  By  Bale  and  Spelman.     See  Note  (M). 

t  Ibid. 

%  Anno  938.     Vid.  Rapin,  &c. 

§  So  I  think  the  name  should  be  printed,  rather  then  Anlaff, 
the  more  usual  form  (the  same  traces  of  the  letters  express  both 
names  in  MS.),  Aulaff  being  evidently  the  genuine  northern  name 
Olaff,  or  Olave.  Lat.  Olaus.  In  the  old  Romance  of  Honi' 
Childe  (see  vol.  iii.  Appendix),  the  name  of  the  king  his  father  is 
AUof,  which  is  evidently  Ollaf,  with  the  vowels  only  transposed. 


THE    ANCIENT   MINSTRELS.     353 

at  length  dismissed  with  an  honourable  reward, 
though  his  songs  must  have  discovered  him  to  have 
been  a  Dane,(o)  Athelstan  was  saved  from  the 
consequences  of  this  stratagem  by  a  soldier,  who  had 
observed  Aulaff  bury  the  money  which  had  been 
given  him,  either  from  some  scruple  of  honour  or 
motive  of  superstition.    This  occasioned  a  discovery. 

Now,  if  the  Saxons  had  not  been  accustomed  to 
have  minstrels  of  their  own,  Alfred's  assuming  so  new 
and  unusual  a  character  would  have  excited  suspicions 
among  the  Danes.  On  the  other  hand,  if  it  had  not 
been  customary  with  the  Saxons  to  shew  favour  and 
respect  to  the  Danish  Scalds,  Aulaff  would  not  have 
ventured  himself  among  them,  especially  on  the  eve 
of  a  battle.(p)  From  the  uniform  procedure,  then,  of 
both  these  kings,  we  may  fairly  conclude  that  the 
same  mode  of  entertainment  prevailed  among  both 
people,  and  that  the  minstrel  was  a  privileged  cha- 
racter with  each. 

But  if  these  facts  had  never  existed,  it  can  be 
proved  from  undoubted  records  that  the  minstrel  was 
a  reofular  and  stated  officer  in  the  court  of  our  Ano^lo- 
Saxon  kings:  for  in  Doomesday  book,  "Joculator 
Regis,"  the  king's  minstrel,  is  expressly  mentioned  in 
Gloucestershire,  in  which  county  it  should  seem  that 
he  had  lands  assigned  him  for  his  maintenance. (q) 

III.  We  have  now  brought  the  inquiry  down  to 
the  Norman  Conquest;  and  as  the  Normans  had 
been  a  late  colony  from  Norway  and  Denmark, 
where  the  Scalds  had  arrived  to  the  highest  pitch  of 
credit  before  Rollo's  expedition  into  France,  we 
cannot  doubt  but  this  adventurer,  like  the  other 
northern  princes,  had  many  of  these  men  in  his  train, 
who  settled  with  him  in  his  new  duchy  of  Normandy, 
and  left  behind  them  successors  in  their  art ;  so  that 
when  his  descendant,  William  the  Bastard,  invaded 

A    A 


354  AN   ESSAY    ON 

this  kingdom  in  the  following  century,*  that  mode  of 
entertainment  could  not  but  be  still  familiar  with  the 
Normans.  And  that  this  is  not  mere  conjecture  will 
appear  from  a  remarkable  fact,  which  shews  that  the 
arts  of  poetry  and  song  were  still  as  reputable  among 
the  Normans  in  France  as  they  had  been  among 
their  ancestors  in  the  north  ;  and  that  the  profession 
of  Minstrel,  like  that  of  Scald,  was  still  aspired  to  by 
the  most  gallant  soldiers.  In  William's  army  was  a 
valiant  warrior,  named  Taillefer,  who  was  distin- 
guished no  less  for  the  minstrel-arts,  (r)  than  for  his 
courage  and  intrepidity.  This  man  asked  leave  of 
his  commander  to  begin  the  onset,  and  obtained  it. 
He  accordingly  advanced  before  the  army,  and  with 
a  loud  voice  animated  his  countrymen  with  songs  in 
praise  of  Charlemagne  and  Roland,  and  other  heroes 
of  France ;  then  rushing  among  the  thickest  of  the 
English,  and  valiantly  fighting,  lost  his  life. 

Indeed,  the  Normans  were  so  early  distinguished 
for  their  minstrel-talents,  that  an  eminent  French 
writer  (s)  makes  no  scruple  to  refer  to  them  the 
origin  of  all  modern  poetry,  and  shews  that  they 
were  celebrated  for  their  songs  near  a  century  before 
the  troubadours  of  Provence,  who  are  supposed  to 
have  led  the  way  to  the  poets  of  Italy,  France,  and 
Spain,  f 

We  see  then  that  the  Norman  Conquest  was  rather 
likely  to  favour  the  establishment  of  the  minstrel 
profession  in  this  kingdom,  than  to  suppress  it :  and 
although  the  favour  of  the  Norman  conquerors  would 
be  probably  confined  to  such  of  their  own  country- 


*  Rollo  was  invested  in  his  new  duchy  of  Normandy,  a.  d.  912. 
William  invaded  England,  a.d.  1066. 

f  Vid.  Hist,  des  Troubadours,  3  torn,  passim,  &  vid.  Fableaux  ou 
Contes  du  XII.  6^  du  XIII.  Siede,  traduits,  &^c.  avec  des  Notes  his- 
toriques  &=  critiques,  ^'c.  par  M.  le  Grand.   Paris,  1781,  5  tom.  i2mo. 


THE    ANCIENT   MINSTRELS.      355 

men  as  excelled  in  the  minstrel  arts — and  in  the 
first  ages  after  the  Conquest,  no  other  songs  would 
be  listened  to  by  the  great  nobility  but  such  as  were 
composed  in  their  own  Norman  French — yet  as  the 
cfreat  mass  of  the  orio-inal  inhabitants  were  not  ex- 
tirpated,  these  could  only  understand  their  own  native 
gleemen  or  minstrels ;  who  must  still  be  allowed 
to  exist,  unless  it  can  be  proved  that  they  were  all 
proscribed  and  massacred,  as,  it  is  said,  the  Welsh 
Bards  were  afterwards  by  the  severe  policy  of  King 
Edward  I.  But  this  we  know  was  not  the  case; 
and  even  the  cruel  attempts  of  that  monarch,  as  we 
shall  see  below,  proved  ineffectual. (s  2) 

The  honours  shewn  to  the  Norman  or  French 
minstrels  by  our  princes  and  great  barons,  would 
naturally  have  been  imitated  by  their  English 
vassals  and  tenants,  even  if  no  favour  or  dis- 
tinction had  ever  been  shewn  here  to  the  same 
order  of  men,  in  the  Anglo-Saxon  and  Danish 
reigns.  So  that  we  cannot  doubt  but  the  English 
harper  and  songster  would,  at  least  in  a  subordinate 
degree,  enjoy  the  same  kind  of  honours,  and  be 
received  with  similar  respect  among  the  inferior 
English  gentry  and  populace,  I  must  be  allowed, 
therefore,  to  consider  them  as  belonging  to  the 
same  community,  as  subordinate  members  at  least 
of  the  same  colleofe ;  and  therefore,  in  ofleanino"  the 
scanty  materials  for  this  slight  history,  I  shall  collect 
whatever  incidents  I  can  find  relating  to  minstrels 
and  their  art,  and  arrange  them,  as  they  occur  in 
our  own  annals,  without  distinction,  as  it  will  not 
always  be  easy  to  ascertain,  from  the  slight  mention 
of  them  by  our  regular  historians,  whether  the  artists 
were  Norman  or  iMii/lish  ;  for  it  need  not  be  re- 
marked  that  subjects  of  this  trivial  nature  are  but 
incidentally  mentioned  by  our  ancient  annalists,  and 
were  fastidiously  rejected  by  other  grave  and  serious 


356  AN   ESSAY    ON 

writers  ;  so  that,  unless  they  were  accidentally  con- 
nected with  such  events  as  became  recorded  in  his- 
tory, they  would  pass  unnoticed .  through  the  lapse 
of  ages,  and  be  as  unknown  to  posterity  as  other 
topics  relating  to  the  private  life  and  amusements 
of  the  greatest  nations. 

On  this  account  it  can  hardly  be  expected  that  we 
should  be  able  to  produce  regular  and  unbroken 
annals  of  the  minstrel  art  and  its  professors,  or 
have  sufficient  information  whether  every  minstrel' 
or  harper  composed  himself,  or  only  repeated,  the 
songs  he  chanted.  Some  probably  did  the  one, 
(  and  some  the  other  :  and  it  would  have  been 
wonderful  indeed  if  men  whose  peculiar  profession 
it  was,  and  who  devoted  their  time  and  talents 
to  entertain  their  hearers  with  poetical  composi- 
tions, were  peculiarly  deprived  of  all  poetical  genius 
themselves,  and  had  been  under  a  physical  inca- 
pacity of  composing  those  common  popular  rhymes 
which  were  the  usual  subjects  of  their  recitation. 
Whoever  examines  any  considerable  quantity  of 
these,  finds  them  in  style  and  colouring  as  different 
from  the  elaborate  production  of  the  sedentary  com- 
poser at  his  desk  or  in  his  cell,  as  the  rambling 
harper  or  minstrel  was  remote  in  his  modes  of  life 
and  habits  of  thinking  from  the  retired  scholar,  or 
the  solitary  monk,  (t) 

It  is  well  known  that  on  the  Continent,  whence 
our  Norman  nobles  came,  the  bard  who  composed, 
the  harper  who  played  and  sang,  and  even  the 
dancer  and  the  mimic,  were  all  considered  as  of  one 
community,  and  were  even  all  included  under  the 
common  name  of  Minstrels.*  I  must  therefore  be 
allowed  the  same  application  of  the  term  here 
without  being  expected  to  prove  that  every  singer 

*  See  Notes  (B.)  and  (A  a.) 


THE    ANCIENT   MINSTRELS.     357 

composed,  or  every  composer  chanted,  his  own  song; 
much  less  that  every  one  excelled  in  all  the  arts, 
which  were  occasionally  exercised  by  some  or  other 
of  this  fraternity. 

IV.  After  the  Norman  Conquest,  the  first  occur- 
rence which  I  have  met  with  relatincr  to  this  order 
of  men  is  the  founding  of  a  priory  and  hospital  by 
one  of  them  :  scil.  the  Priory  and  Hospital  of  St. 
Bartholomew,  in  Smithfield,  London,  by  Royer  or 
Raherus,  the  King's  Minstrel,  in  the  third  year  of 
King  Henr)'  I.  a.d.  1102.  He  was  the  first  prior 
of  his  own  establishment,  and  presided  over  it  to 
the  time  of  his  death,  (t  2) 

In  the  reign  of  K.  Henry  II.  we  have  upon 
record  the  name  of  Galfrid  or  Jeffrey,  a  harper, 
who  in  1 180  received  a  corrody  or  annuity  from 
the  Abbey  of  Hide,  near  Winchester  :  and,  as  in 
the  early  times  every  harper  was  expected  to  sing, 
we  cannot  doubt  but  this  reward  was  given  to  him 
for  his  music  and  his  songs ;  which,  if  they  were  for 
the  solace  of  the  monks  there,  we  may  conclude 
would  be  in  the  English  language. (u) 

Under  his  romantic  son,  K.  Richard  I.,  the  min- 
strel profession  seems  to  have  acquired  additional 
splendor.  Richard,  who  was  the  great  hero  of 
chivalry,  was  also  the  distinguished  patron  of  poets 
and  minstrels.  He  was  himself  of  their  number, 
and  some  of  his  poems  are  still  extant.*  They  were 
no  less  patronized  by  his  favourites  and  chief  officers. 
His  Chancellor,  William  Bishop  of  Ely,  is  expressly 

*  See  a  pathetic  song  of  his  in  Mr.  Walpole's  Catalogue  of  Royal 
Authors,  vol.  i.  p.  5.  The  reader  will  find  a  translation  of  it  into 
modern  French,  in  Hist,  littcraire  dcs  I'roubadours,  1774,  3  torn. 
i2mo.  .See  vol.  i.  (p.  58)  where  some  more  of  Richard's  poetry  is 
translated.  In  Dr.  Burney's  I/ist.  of  Music,  vol.  ii.  p.  238,  is  a 
poetical  version  of  it  in  English. 


358  AN   ESSAY    ON 

mentioned  to  have  invited  singers  and  minstrels 
from  France,  whom  he  loaded  with  rewards ;  and 
they  in  return  celebrated  him  as  the  most  accom- 
plished person  in  the  world,  (u  2)  This  high 
distinction  and  regard,  although  confined,  perhaps, 
in  the  first  instance  to  poets  and  songsters  of  the 
French  nation,  must  have  had  a  tendency  to  do 
honour  to  poetry  and  song  among  all  his  subjects, 
and  to  encourage  the  cultivation  of  these  arts  among 
the  natives,  as  the  indulgent  favour  shewn  by  the 
monarch  or  his  great  courtiers  to  the  Froven9al 
TroubadotiT,  or  Norman  Ry7noti7%  would  naturally 
be  imitated  by  their  inferior  vassals  to  the  English 
gleeman  or  minstrel.  At  more  than  a  century  after 
the  Conquest,  the  national  distinctions  must  have 
begun  to  decline,  and  both  the  Norman  and  English 
languages  would  be  heard  in  the  houses  of  the  great 
(u '  3) ;  so  that  probably  about  this  sera,  or  soon 
after,  we  are  to  date  that  remarkable  intercommunity 
and  exchange  of  each  other's  compositions  which  we 
discover  to  have  taken  place  at  some  early  period 
between  the  French  and  Eno-lish  minstrels  :  the 
same  set  of  phrases,  the  same  species  of  characters, 
incidents,  and  adventures,  and  often  the  same  iden- 
tical stories  being  found  in  the  old  metrical  romances 
of  both  nations. (v) 

The  distinguished  service  which  Richard  received 
from  one  of  his  own  minstrels,  in  rescuing  him  from 
his  cruel  and  tedious  captivity,  is  a  remarkable  fact, 
which  ought  to  be  recorded  for  the  honour  of  poets 
and  their  art.  This  fact  I  shall  relate  in  the  follow- 
ing words  of  an  ancient  writer.* 


*  Mons.  Favine's  Theatre  of  Honour  and  Knighthood,  translated 
from  the  French.  London,  1623,  fol.  torn.  ii.  p.  49.  An  elegant 
relation  of  the  same  event  (from  the  French  of  Presid.  Fauchet's 
Rccueil,  &c. )  may  be  seen  in  Miscellanies  i?i  prose  and  verse :  by 


THE    ANCIENT   MINSTRELS.     359 

"■  The  Eno^lishmen  were  more  then  a  whole  yeare, 
without  hearing  any  tydings  of  their  king,  or  in  what 
place  he  was  kept  prisoner.  He  had  trained  up  in 
his  court  a  Rimer  or  Minstrill,*  called  Blondell  de 
Nesle  :  who  (so  saith  the  Manuscript  of  old  Poesies, f 
and  an  auncient  manuscript  French  Chronicle)  being 
so  long-  without  the  sicjht  of  his  lord,  his  life  seemed 
wearisome  to  him,  and  he  became  confounded  with 
melancholly.  Knowne  it  was,  that  he  came  backe 
from  the  Holy  Land  :  but  none  could  tell  in  what 
countrey  he  arrived.  Whereupon  this  Blondel,  re- 
solving to  make  search  for  him  in  many  countries, 
but  he  would  heare  some  newes  of  him  ;  after  ex- 
pence  of  divers  dayes  in  travaile,  he  came  to  a 
towne  X  (by  good  hap)  neere  to  the  castell  where 
his  maister  king  Richard  was  kept.  Of  his  host 
he  demanded  to  whom  the  castell  appertained,  and 
the  host  told  him,  that  it  belonged  to  the  duke 
of  Austria.     Then  he  enquired  whether  there  were 


Anna  Williams,  London,  1766,  4to.  p.  46.  It  will  excite  the 
reader's  admiration  to  be  infonned  that  most  of  the  pieces  of  that 
collection  were  composed  under  the  disadvantage  of  a  total  depri- 
vation of  sight. 

*  Favine's  words  are,  "  Jongleur  appelle  Blondiaux  de  Nesle," 
Paris,  1620,  4to.  p.  1106.  But  Fauchet,  who  has  given  the  same 
story',  thus  expresses  it,  "  Or  ce  roy  ayant  nourri  un  Menestrel 
aj^)pelle'  Blondel,  &c."  llv.  2,  p.  92.  Dcs  anciens  Poctes  Franpis. 
He  is  however  said  to  have  been  another  Blondel,  not  Blondel  (or 
lilondiaux)  de  Nesle  :  but  this  no  way  aftects  the  circumstances  of 
the  stor)'. 

t  This  the  author  calls  in  another  place,  Aji  ancient  MS.  of  old 
Poesies,  written  about  those  7'cry  times.  From  this  MS.  Favine  gives 
a  good  account  of  the  taking  of  Richard  by  the  duke  of  Austria, 
who  sold  him  to  the  emperor.  As  for  the  MS.  chronicle,  it  is  evi- 
dently the  same  that  sup])lied  Fauchet  with  this  story.  See  his 
Reciteil  de  rOrii^ine  de  la  Langue  (^  Pocsic  Fran^oisc,  Ryme,  &> 
Romans,  <^c.     Par.  1581. 

X  Tribales.  "  Retrudi  cum  prxcepit  in  Triballis  :  a  quo  carcere 
nullus  ante  dies  istos  cxivit." — Lat.  Citron,  of  Otlio  of  Austria  :  apud 
Favin. 


^oo  AN   ESSAY    ON 


o 


any  prisoners  therein  detained  or  no  :  for  alwayes 
he  made  such  secret  questionings  wheresoever  he 
came.  And  the  hoste  gave  answer,  there  was  one 
onely  prisoner,  but  he  knew  not  what  he  was,  and 
yet  he  had  bin  detained  there  more  then  the  space 
of  a  yeare.  When  Blondel  heard  this,  he  wrought 
such  meanes,  that  he  became  acquainted  with  them 
of  the  castell,  as  Minstrels  doe  easily  win  acqtcaint- 
ance  any  where -."^  but  see  the  king  he  could  not, 
neither  understand  that  it  was  he.  One  day  he  sat 
chrectly  before  a  window  of  the  castell,  where  king 
Richard  was  kept  prisoner,  and  began  to  sing  a  song 
in  French,  which  king  Richard  and  Blondel  had 
sometime  composed  together.  When  king  Richard 
heard  the  song,  he  knew  it  was  Blondel  that  sung 
it :  and  when  Blondel  paused  at  halfe  of  the  song, 
the  king  'began  the  other  half  and  completed  it.'f 
Thus  Blondel  won  knowledge  of  the  king  his 
maister,  and  returning  home  into  England,  made 
the  barons  of  the  countrie  acquainted  where  the 
king  was."     This  happened  about  the  year  1193. 

The  following  old  Provencal  lines  are  given  as 
the    very    original    song :  J    which    I    shall    accom- 

*  Comme  Menestrels  s^ accointeiit  legeremeni. — Favine.  (Fauchet 
expresses  it  in  the  same  manner.) 

t  I  give  this  passage  corrected,  as  the  English  translator  of 
Favine's  book  appeared  here  to  have  mistaken  the  original : — Scil. 
"  Et  quant  Blondel  eut  dit  la  moitie  de  la  Chanson,  le  Roy  Richart 
se  prist  a  dire  I'autre  moitie  et  I'acheva." — Favine,  p.  i  i  06.  Fauchet 
has  also  expressed  it  in  nearly  the  same  words.     Recucil,  p.  93. 

I  In  a  little  romance  or  novel,  intitled.  La  Tour  Tejiebreuse,  d 
les  Jours  lujuineux,  Contes  Angloises,  accovipagnez  d'' Historiettes ,  6~ 
tirez  ahine  ancicnne  Chronique  coviposcc  par  Richard,  s2irnovime 
Coetir  de  Lion,  Roy  d'Angleterre,  dr^c.  Paris,  1705,  izmo.  In  the 
Preface  to  this  Romance  the  editor  has  given  another  song  of 
Blondel  de  Nesle,  as  also  a  copy  of  the  song  written  by  K.  Richard, 
and  pubhshed  by  Mr.  Walpole,  mentioned  above  (in  Note  *,  p.  357), 
yet  the  two  last  are  not  in  Provencal  like  the  sonnet  printed  here ; 
but  in  the  old  French,  called  Langage  Roman. 


THE    ANCIENT   MINSTRELS.     361 

pany    with    an     imitation    offered    by    Dr.    Burney. 
(ii.  237.) 

BLONDEL. 

Domna  rostra  beutas  Your  beauty,  lady  fair, 

Elas  bellas  faissos  None  views  ^^'ithOut  delight ; 

Els  bcis  oils  amoros  But  still  so  cold  an  air 

Els  gens  corsybcn  taillats  No  passion  can  excite  : 

Don  sieu  empresenats  Yet  this  I  patient  see 

£>e  rostra  amor  que  mi  lia.  "\^'hile  all  are  shun'd  like  me. 

RICHARD. 

Si  bel  trop  affansia  No  nymph  my  heart  can  wound 

Ja  de  ros  non  portrai  If  favour  she  divide, 

Qite  tnajor  honorai  And  smiles  on  all  around 

Sol  en  rotre  ilemafi  Unwilling  to  decide  : 

Que  sautra  des  beisan  I'd  rather  hatred  bear 

Tot  tan  de  ros  rolria.  Than  love  with  others  share. 

The  access  Avhich  Blondel  so  readily  obtained  in 
the  privileged  character  of  a  minstrel,  is  not  the 
only  instance  upon  record  of  the  same  nature, 
(v  2)  In  this  very  reign  of  K.  Richard  I.  the 
young  heiress  of  D'Evreux,  Earl  of  Salisbury,  had 
been  carried  abroad  and  secreted  by  her  French 
relations  in  Normandy.  To  discover  the  place  of 
her  concealment,  a  knight  of  the  Talbot  family  spent 
two  years  in  exploring  that  province  :  at  first  under 
the  disguise  of  a  pilgrim,  till  having  found  where 
she  was  confined,  in  order  to  gain  admittance  he 
assumed  the  dress  and  character  of  a  harper,  and 
being  a  jocose  person  exceedingly  skilled  in  "  the 
Gests  of  the  ancients"'" — so  they  called  the  ro- 
mances and  stories  which  were  the  delight  of  that 
age — he  was  gladly  received  into  the  family,  whence 

*  The  words  of  the  original,  viz.  "  Citharisator  homo  jocosus  in 
Gestis  anticjuorum  valde  peritus,"  I  conceive  to  give  the  precise 
idea  of  the  ancient  minstrel.  See  Note  V.  2.  That  desta  was 
appropriated  to  romantic  stories,  see  Note  I,  Part  iv.  (i.) 


"s 


362  AN   ESSAY    ON 

he  took  an  opportunity  to  carry  off  the  young  lady, 
whom  he  presented  to  the  king ;  and  he  bestowed 
her  on  his  natural  brother  William  Longespee  (son 
of  fair  Rosamond),  who  became  in  her  right  Earl  of 
Salisbury,  (v  3) 

The  next  memorable  event  which  I  find  in  his- 
tory, reflects  credit  on  the  English  minstrels  ;  and 
this  was  their  contributing  to  the  rescue  of  one  of 
the  great  Earls  of  Chester  when  besieged  by  the 
Welsh.  This  happened  in  the  reign  of  K.  John, 
and  is  related  to  this  effect :  * — 

Hugh  the  first  Earl  of  Chester,  in  his  charter  of 
foundation  of  St.  Werburg's  Abbey  in  that  city,  had 
granted  such  a  privilege  to  those,  who  should  come 
to  Chester  fair,  that  they  should  not  be  then  appre- 
hended for  theft  or  any  other  misdemeanor,  except 
the  crime  were  committed  during  the  fair.  This 
special  protection,  occasioning  a  multitude  of  loose 
people  to  resort  to  that  fair,  was  afterwards  of  signal 
benefit  to  one  of  his  successors.  For  Ranulph  the 
last  Earl  of  Chester,  marching  into  Wales  with  a 
slender  attendance,  was  constrained  to  retire  to  his 
castle  of  Rothelan  (or  Rhuydland)  to  which  the 
Welsh  forthwith  laid  siege.  In  this  distress  he 
sent  for  help  to  the  Lord  De  Lacy,  Constable  of 
Chester  :  "  Who,  making  use  of  the  minstrells  of  all 
sorts,  then  met  at  Chester  fair,  by  the  allurement  of 
their  musick,  got  together  a  vast  number  of  such 
loose  people,  as,  by  reason  of  the  before  specified 
priviledge,  were  then  in  that  city  ;  whom  he  forth- 
with sent  under  the  conduct  of  Dutton  (his  steward)," 
a  gallant  youth,  who  was  also  his  son  in  law.  The 
Welsh,    alarmed   at   the   approach    of    this    rabble. 


*  See  Dugdale  (Bar.  i.  42,  loi),  who  places  it  after  13  John, 
A.D.  1 2 12.  See  also  Plot's  Staffordsh.  Camden's  Britann. 
(Cheshire). 


THE    ANCIENT  MINSTRELS.      x6 


0^0 


supposing  them  to  be  a  regular  body  of  armed  and 
disciplined  veterans,  instantly  raised  the  siege  and 
retired. 

For  this  good  service  Ranulph  is  said  to  have 
granted  to  De  Lacy  by  charter  the  patronage  and 
authority  over  the  minstrels  and  the  loose  and  inferior 
people  ;  who,  retaining  to  himself  that  of  the  lower 
artificers,  conferred  on  Dutton  the  jurisdiction  of  the 
minstrels  and  harlots  :*  and  under  the  descendants  of 
this  family  the  minstrels  enjoyed  certain  privileges, 
and  protection  for  many  ages.  For  even  so  late  as  ~i 
the  reign  of  Elizabeth,  when  this  profession  had  fallen 
into  such  discredit  that  it  was  considered  in  law  as  a 
nuisance,  the  minstrels  under  the  jurisdiction  of  the 
family  of  Dutton  are  expressly  excepted  out  of  all 
acts  of  parliament  made  for  their  suppression  ;  and 
have  continued  to  be  so  excepted  ever  since,  (w)  -' 

The  ceremonies  attending  the  exercise  of  this  juris- 
diction are  thus  described  by  Dugdalef  as  handed 
down  to  his  time,  viz.  "  That  at  midsummer  fair 
there,  all  the  minstrels  of  that  countrey  resorting  to 
Chester,  do  attend  the  heir  of  Dutton,  from  his  lodging 
to  St.  John's  church  (he  being  then  accompanied  by 
many  gentlemen  of  the  countrey)  one  of  'the  minstrels' 
walking  before  him  in  a  surcoat  of  his  arms  depicted 
on  taffata  ;  the  rest  of  his  fellows  proceeding  (two  and 
two)  and  playing  on  their  several  sorts  of  musical 
instruments.  And  after  divine  service  ended,  give 
the  like  attendance  on  him  back  to  his  lodging  ;  where 
a  court  being  kept  by  his  (Mr.  Dutton's)  Steward, 
and  all  the  minstrels  formally  called,  certain  orders 
and  laws  are  usually  made  for  the  better  govern- 
ment of  that  Societ)',  with   penalties   on   those  who 


transgress." 


*  See  the  ancient  record  in  Blount's  Laic  Dictionary.    (Art. 
Minstrel.)  t  J^'i^i-  P-  lo'- 


364  AN    ESSAY   ON 

In  the  same  reign  of  K.  John  we  have  a  remark- 
able instance  of  a  minstrel,  who  to  his  other  talents 
superadded  the  character  of  Soothsayer,  and  by  his 
skill  in  drugs  and  medicated  potions  was  able  to 
rescue  a  knight  from  imprisonment.  This  occurs  in 
Leland's  Narrative  of  the  Gestes  of  Guarine  (or 
Warren)  and  his  sons,  which  he  "  excerptid  owte 
of  an  old  Englisch  boke  yn  ryme,"  *  and  is  as 
follows  : 

Whitington  Castle,  in  Shropshire,  which  together 
with  the  coheiress  of  the  original  proprietor  had  been 
won  in  a  solemn  turnament  by  the  ancestor  of  the 
Guarines,t  had  in  the  reign  of  K.  John  been  seized 
by  the  Prince  of  Wales,  and  was  afterwards  possessed 
by  Morice,  a  retainer  of  that  Prince,  to  whom  the 
king  out  of  hatred  to  the  true  heir  Fulco  Guarine 
(with  whom  he  had  formerly  had  a  quarrel  at  Chess)  J 
not  only  confirmed  the  possession,  but  also  made 
him  governor  of  the  marches,  of  which  Fulco  himself 
had  the  custody  in  the  time  of  K.  Richard.  The 
Guarines  demanded  justice  of  the  king,  but  obtaining 
no  gracious  answer,  renounced  their  allegiance  and 
fled  into  Bretagne.  Returning  into  England,  after 
various  conflicts,  "  Fulco  resortid  to  one  John  of 
Raumpayne,  a  Sothsayer  and  Jocular  and  Minstrelle, 


*  Leland's  Collectanea,  vol.  i.  p.  261,  266,  267. 

I"  This  old  feudal  custom  of  marrying  an  heiress  to  the  knight 
who  should  vanquish  all  his  opponents  in  solemn  contest,  &c. 
appears  to  be  burlesqued  in  the  Turnament  of  Totenhani  (see 
vol.  ii.  book  i.  No.  4),  as  is  well  observed  by  the  learned  author  of 
Ronarks,  &c.  in  Gent.  Mag.  for  July,  1794,  p.  613. 

\  "  John,  sun  to  K.  Henry,  and  Fulco  felle  at  variance  at  Chestes 
[r.  Chesse] ;  and  John  brake  Fulco[s]  hed  with  the  Chest  borde  : 
and  then  Fulco  gave  him  such  a  blow,  that  he  had  almost  killid 
hym." — Lei.  Coll  i,  p.  264.  A  curious  picture  of  courtly  manners 
in  that  age  !  Notwithstanding  this  fray,  we  read  in  the  next  para- 
graph, that  "  K.  Henry  dubbid  Fulco  &  3  of  his  bretherne  knightes 
at  Winchester." — Il^ul. 


THE    ANCIENT   MINSTRELS.     365 

and  made  hym  his  spy  to  IMorice  at  Whitington." 
The  privileges  of  this  character  we  have  already  seen, 
and  John  so  well  availed  himself  of  them,  that  in 
consequence  of  the  intelligence  which  he  doubtless 
procured,  "  Fulco,  and  his  brethrene  laide  waite  for 
Morice,  as  he  went  toward  Salesbyri,  and  Fulco 
ther  wound  id  hym  :  and  Bracy"  (a  knight,  who  was 
their  friend  and  assistant),  "  cut  of  Morice['s]  hedde." 
This  sir  Bracy  being  in  a  subsequent  rencounter 
sore  wounded,  was  taken  and  brought  to  K.  John; 
from  whose  vengeance  he  was  however  rescued  by 
this  notable  minstrel ;  for  "  John  Rampayne  founde 
the  meanes  to  cast  them,  that  kepte  Bracy,  into  a 
deadely  slepe ;  and  so  he  and  Bracy  cam  to  Fulco  to 
Whitington,"  which  on  the  death  of  Morice  had  been 
restored  to  him  by  the  Prince  of  Wales,  As  no  fur- 
ther mention  occurs  of  the  minstrel,  I  might  here 
conclude  this  narrative ;  but  I  shall  just  add,  that 
Fulco  was  obliged  to  flee  into  France,  where  assum- 
ing the  name  of  Sir  Amice,  he  distinguished  himself 
in  justs  and  turnaments  ;  and,  after  various  romantic 
adventures  by  sea  and  land  (having  in  the  true  stile 
of  chivalry  rescued  "  certayne  ladies  owt  of  prison"), 
he  finally  obtained  the  king's  pardon,  and  the  quiet 
possession  of  Whitington  Castle. 

In  the  reign  of  K.  Henry  III.  we  have  mention  of 
Master  Richard  the  King's  harper,  to  whom  in  his 
36th  year  (1252)  that  monarch  gave  not  only  forty 
shillings,  and  a  pipe  of  wine,  but  also  a  pipe  of  wine 
to  Beatrice  his  wife.*  The  title  of  inagistej%  or  mas- 
ter, given  to  this  minstrel  deserves  notice,  and  shews 
liis  respectable  situation. 


*  Bumey's  Hist.  ii.  p.  355.  Rot.  Pip.  An.  36,  H.  3.  "  Kt  in 
uno  dolio  vini  empto  &  dato  Magistro  Ricardo  CitharisUv  Regis,  xl 
sol.  per  ijr.  Reg.  Et  in  uno  dolio  enipto  c\:  dato  Beatrici  uxori 
ejusdem  Ricardi." 


366  AN   ESSAY    ON 

V.  The  harper,  or  minstrel,  was  so  necessary  an 
attendant  on  a  royal  personage,  that  Prince  Edward 
(afterwards  K.  Edward  I.)  in  his  Crusade  to  the 
Holy  Land,  in  1271,  was  not  without  his  harper, 
who  must  have  been  officially  very  near  his  person, 
as  we  are  told  by  a  contemporary  historian*  that,  in 
the  attempt  to  assassinate  that  heroic  prince,  when  he 
had  wrested  the  poisoned  knife  out  of  the  Sarazen's 
hand  and  killed  him  with  his  own  weapon,  the 
attendants,  who  had  stood  apart  while  he  was  whis- 
pering to  their  master,  hearing  the  struggle,  ran  to 
his  assistance,  and  one  of  them,  to  wit  his  harper, 
seizing  a  tripod  or  trestle,  struck  the  assassin  on  the 
head  and  beat  out  his  brains. f  And  though  the 
Prince  blamed  him  for  striking-  the  man  after  he  was 
dead,  yet  his  near  access  shews  the  respectable 
situation  of  this  officer ;  and  his  affectionate  zeal 
should  have  induced  Edward  to  entreat  his  brethren 
the  Welsh  Bards  afterwards  with  more  lenity. 

Whatever  was  the  extent  of  this  great  monarch's 
severity  towards  the  professors  of  music  and  of  song 
in  Wales  ;  whether  the  executing  by  martial  law  such 
of  them  as  fell  into  his  hands  was  only  during  the 
heat  of  conflict,  or  was  continued  afterwards  with  more 
systematic  rigor  ;  J  yet  in  his  own  court  the  minstrels 


*  Walter  Hemmingford  {vixit  temp.  Edw.  I.)  in  Chronic,  cap. 
35,  inter  V.  Hist.  Ang.  Scriptores,  vol.  ii.  Oxon.  1687,  fol.  p.  591. 

t  "  Accurrentes  ad  hgec  Ministri  ejus,  qui  a  longe  stetenmt,  in- 
venerunt  eum  (scil.  Nuntium)  in  terra  mortuum,  et  apprehendit 
unus  eorum  tripodem,  scilicet  Cithareda  suus  &  percussit  eum  in 
capite,  et  effundit  cerebrum  ejus.  Increpavitque  eum  Edwardus 
quod  hominem  mortuum  percussisset." — Jbid.  These  mi /listn  must 
have  been  upon  a  very  confidential  footing,  as  it  appears  above  in 
the  same  chapter  that  they  had  been  made  acquainted  with  the 
contents  of  the  letters,  which  the  assassin  had  delivered  to  the 
prince  from  his  master. 

I  See  Gray's  Ode ;  and  the  Hist,  of  the  Gwedir  Family  in  Mis- 
cellanies  by  the  Hon.  Daines  Barrington,  1781,  4to.  p.  386  ;  who  in 


THE    ANCIENT   MINSTRELS.     367 

appear  to  have  been  highly  favoured ;  for  when, 
in  1306,  he  conferred  the  order  of  knighthood  on 
his  son,  and  many  others  of  the  young  nobihty,  a 
multitude  of  minstrels  were  introduced  to  invite 
and  induce  the  new  knights  to  make  some  military 
vow.(x)     And 

Under  the  succeedincr  reiorn  of  K.  Edward  II. 
such  extensive  privileges  were  claimed  by  these 
men,  and  by  dissolute  persons  assuming  their  charac- 
ter, that  it  became  a  matter  of  public  grievance,  and 
was  obliged  to  be  reformed  by  an  express  regulation 
in  A.D.  I3i5.(v)  Notwithstanding  which,  an  inci- 
dent is  recorded  in  the  ensuing  year,  which  shews 
that  minstrels  still  retained  the  liberty  of  entering 
at  will  into  the  royal  presence,  and  had  something 
peculiarly  splendid  in  their  dress.  It  is  thus  related 
by  Stow.(z). 

"  In  the  year  13 16,  Edward  the  second  did  solem- 
nize his  feast  of  Pentecost  at  Westminster,  in  the 
great  hall :  where  sitting  royally  at  the  table  with  his 
peers  about  him,  there  entered  a  woman  adorned  like 
a  7nmstrcl,  sitting  on  a  great  horse  trapped,  as  viin- 
strels  then  used ;  who  rode  round  about  the  tables, 
shewing  pastime;  and  at  length  came  up  to  the  king's 
table,  and  laid  before  him  a  letter,  and  forthwith  turn- 
ing her  horse  saluted  every  one  and  departed." 

The  subject  of  this  letter  was  a  remonstrance  to  the 
king  on  the  favours  heaped  by  him  on  his  minions, 
to  the  neglect  of  his  knicrhts  and  faithful  servants. 

The  privileged  character  of  a  minstrel  was  em- 
ployed on  this  occasion,  as  sure  of  gaining  an  easy 
admittance  ;  and  a  female  the  rather  deputed  to  assume 
it,  that  in  case  of  detection,  her  sex  might  disarm  the 


the  laws,  &c.  of  this  monarch  couhl  find  no  instances  of  severity 
against  the  \Velsh.  See  his  Observations  on  tlie  Statutes,  4to.  4tli 
edit.  p.  358. 


368  AN   ESSAY    ON 

king's  resentment.  This  is  offered  on  a  supposition, 
that  she  was  not  a  real  minstrel ;  for  there  should 
seem  to  have  been  women  of  this  profession,  (a  a) 
as  well  as  of  the  other  sex  ;  and  no  accomplish- 
ment is '  so  constantly  attributed  to  females,  by  our 
ancient  bards,  as  their  singing  to  and  playing  on 
the  harp,  (a  a  2) 

In  the  fourth  year  of  K.  Richard  II.  John  of  Gaunt 
erected  at  Tutbury  in  Staffordshire,  a  court  of  min- 
strels, similar  to  that  annually  kept  at  Chester  (p.  363), 
and  which,  like  a  Court- Leet  or  Court-Baron,  had  a 
legal  jurisdiction,  with  full  power  to  receive  suit  and 
service  from  the  men  of  this  profession  within  five 
neighbouring  countries,  to  enact  laws,  and  determine 
their  controversies  ;  and  to  apprehend  and  arrest  such 
of  them  as  should  refuse  to  appear  at  the  said  court, 
annually  held  on  the  i6th  of  August.  For  this  they 
had  a  charter  by  which  they  were  empowered  to 
appoint  a  king  of  the  minstrels,  with  four  officers  to 
preside  over  them,  (b  b)  These  were  every  year 
elected  with  great  ceremony  ;  the  whole  form  of  which 
as-  observed  in  1 680,  is  described  by  Dr.  Plott  :*  in 
whose  time  however  they  appear  to  have  lost  their 
singing  talents,  and  to  have  confined  all  their  skill  to 
"  wind  and  string  music."t 

The  minstrels  seem  to  have  been  in  many  respects 
upon  the  same  footing  as  the  heralds  ;  and  the  king 
of  the  minstrels,  like  the  king  at  arms,  was  both  here 


*  Hist,  of  Staffordshire,  Ch.  10,  §  69 — 76,  p,  433,  &  seqq.  of 
which  see  extracts  in  Sir  J.  Hawkins's  Hist,  of  Music,  vol.  ii.  p.  64, 
and  Dr.  Bumey's  Hist.  vol.  ii.  p.  360  &  seqq. 

N.B.  The  barbarous  diversion  of  Bull-running  was  no  part  of 
the  original  institution,  &c.  as  is  fully  proved  by  the  Rev.  Dr.  Pegge 
in  Archceologia,  vol.  ii.  No.  xiii.  p.  86. 

t  See  the  charge  given  by  the  steward,  at  the  time  of  the  elec- 
tion, in  Plot's  Hist,  ubi  supra;  and  in  Hawkins,  p.  67,  Burney,  p. 
363-4- 


THE    ANCIENT   MINSTRELS.     369 

and  on  the  Continent  an  usual  officer  in  the  courts  of 
princes.  Thus  we  have  in  the  reign  of  K.  Edward 
I.  mention  of  a  King  Robert,  and  others.  And  in 
16  Edw.  II.  is  a  (jrant  to  Wilhani  de  Morlee  "the 
king's  Minstrel,  stiled  Roy  dc  NortJi''*  of  houses 
which  had  belonged  to  another  king,  John  le  Boteler. 
(h  b  2)  Rymer  hath  also  printed  a  licence  granted 
by  K.  Richard  II.  in  13S7,  to  John  Caumz,  the  king 
of  his  minstrels,  to  pass  the  seas,  recommending  him 
to  the  protection  and  kind  treatment  of  all  his  sub- 
jects and  allies.f 

In  the  subsequent  reign  of  K.  Henry  IV.  we  meet 
with  no  particulars  relating  to  the  minstrels  in  Eng- 
land, but  we  find  in  the  Statute  Book  a  severe  law 
passed  against  their  brethren  the  Welsh  bards  ;  whom 
our  ancestors  could  not  distino-uish  from  their  own 
Rimoiu's,  Alinistralx ;  for  by  these  names  they  de- 
scribe them.(B  b  3)  This  act  plainly  shews  that  far 
from  being  extirpated  by  the  rigorous  policy  of  K. 
Edward  I.,  this  order  of  men  were  still  able  to 
alarm  the  Enorlish  orovernment,  which  attributed  to 
them  "  many  diseases  and  mischiefs  in  Wales,"  arid 
prohibited  their  meetings  and  contributions. 

When  his  heroic  son  K.  Henry  V.  was  preparing 
his  great  voyage  for  France  in  141 5,  an  express 
order  was  given  for  his  minstrels,  fifteen  in  number,  to 
attend  him  :  ;|;  and  eighteen  are  afterwards  mentioned, 
to  each  of  whom  he  allowed  y^nd.  a  day,  when  that 
sum  must  have  been  of  more  than  ten  times  the  value 
it  is  at  present.§  Yet  when  he  entered  London  in 
triumph  after  the  battle  of  Agincourt,  he,  from  a  prin- 

*  .So  among  the  heralds  Norrey  was  anciently  stiled  Roy  (VArmes 
ite  North  (Anstis,  ii.  300).  And  the  kings  at  amies  in  general 
were  originally  called  Ref^es  Jlerah/orum  {Ibid.  302),  as  these  were 
Reives  Minstralloriim. 

t  Rymer's  Fauiera,  torn.  vii.  p.  555. 

X   Rynier,  ix.  255.  §  Ibid.  p.  260. 

}',   li 


370  AN   ESSAY    ON 

ciple  of  humility,  slighted  the  pageants  and  verses 
which  were  prepared  to  hail  his  return  ;  and,  as  we 
are  told  by  Holinshed,*  would  not  suffer  "any  Dities 
to  be  made  and  song  by  minstrels,  of  his  glorious 
victorie  ;  for  that  he  would  whollie  have  the  praise 
and  thankes  altogether  given  to  God."(B  b  4)  But 
this  did  not  proceed  from  any  disregard  for  the  pro- 
fessors of  music  or  of  song  ;  for  at  the  feast  of 
Pentecost  which  he  celebrated  in  141 6,  having  the 
Emperor  and  the  Duke  of  Holland  for  his  guests,  he 
ordered  rich  gowns  for  sixteen  of  his  minstrels,  of 
which  the  particulars  are  preserved  by  Rymer.f  And 
having  before  his  death  orally  granted  an  annuity  of 
100  shillings  to  each  of  his  minstrels,  the  grant  was 
confirmed  in  the  first  year  of  his  son  K.  Henry  VI., 
A.D.  1423,  and  paytnent  ordered  out  of  the  Exche- 
quer.J 

The  unfortunate  reign  of  K.  Henry  VI.  affords 
no  occurrences  respecting  our  subject ;  but  in  his  34th 
year,  a.d.  1456,  we  have  in  Rymer§  a  commission 
for  impressing  boys  or  youths,  to  supply  vacancies  by 
death  among  the  king's  minstrels ;  in  which  it  is  ex- 
pressly directed  that  they  shall  be  elegant  in  their 


*  See  his  Chronicle,  sub  anno  141 5  (p.  1170).  He  also  gives 
this  other  instance  of  the  king's  great  modesty,  "  that  he  would  not 
suffer  his  helmet  to  be  carried  with  him,  and  shewed  to  the  people, 
that  they  might  behold  the  dintes  and  cuttes,  whiche  appeared  in 
the  same,  of  such  blowes  and  stripes,  as  hee  received  the  daye  of 
the  battell." — Ihid.  Vid.  T.  de  Elmham,  c.  29,  p.  72. 

The  prohibition  against  vain  and  secular  songs  would  probably 
not  include  that  inserted  in  our  2nd  vol.  No.  v.  which  would  be 
considered  as  a  hymn.  The  original  notes  may  be  seen  reduced 
and  set  to  score  in  Mr.  Stafford  Smith's  Collection  of  English  Songs 
for  3  and  4  voices,  and  in  Dr.  Burney's  Hist,  of  Music,  ii.  p.  384. 

t  T.  ix.  336. 

%  Ibid.  X.  287.  They  are  mentioned  by  name,  being  ten  in  num- 
ber :  one  of  them  was  named  Thomas  Chatterton. 

§  Tom.  xi.  375. 


THE    ANCIENT    MINSTRELS.     371 

limbs,  as  well  as  instructed  in  the  minstrel  art,  wher- 
ever they  can  be  found,  for  the  solace  of  his  Majesty. 

In  the  following  reign,  K.  Edward  IV.  (in  his  9th 
year.  1469)  upon  a  complaint  that  certain  rude  hus- 
bandmen and  artificers  of  various  trades  had  assumed 
the  title  and  livery  of  the  king's  minstrels,  and  under 
that  colour  and  pretence  had  collected  money  in  di- 
verse parts  of  the  kingdom  and  committed  other  dis- 
orders, the  king  grants  to  Walter  Haliday,  Marshal, 
and  to  seven  others  his  own  minstrels  whom  he  names, 
a  charter,*  by  which  he  creates,  or  rather  restores  a 
fraternity  or  perpetual  Gild  (such,  as  he  understands, 
the  brothers  ancl  sisters  of  the  fraternity  of  minstrels 
had  in  times  past)  to  be  governed  by -a  Marshal  ap- 
pointed for  life  and  by  two  wardens  to  be  chosen 
annually ;  who  are  impowered  to  admit  brothers  and 
sisters  into  the  said  Gild,  and  are  authorized  to  ex- 
amine the  pretensions  of  all  such  as  affected  to  exercise 
the  minstrel  profession ;  and  to  regulate,  govern,  and 
punish  them  throughout  the  realm  (those  of  Chester 
excepted). — This  seems  to  have  some  resemblance 
to  the  Earl  Marshal's  Court  among  the  heralds,  and 
is  another  proof  of  the  great  affinity  and  resemblance 
which  the  minstrels  bore  to  the  members  of  the 
Colleofe  of  Arms. 

It  is  remarkable  that  Walter  Haliday,  whose  name 
occurs  as  marshal  in  the  foregoing  charter,  had  been 
retained  in  the  service  of  the  two  preceding  monarchs, 
K.  Henry  V.f  and  VI.  ;  J  nor  is  this  the  first  time  he 
is  mentioned  as  marshal  of  the  king's  minstrels,  for 
in  the  third  year  of  this  reign,  1464,  he  had  a  grant 


*  See  it  in  Rymer,  t.  xi.  642,  and  in  Sir  J.  Hawkins,  vol.  iv. 
p.  3C6,  note.  The  above  charter  is  recited  in  letters  patent  of  K. 
Charles  I.  15  July  (11  Anno  Rcgni)  for  a  corporation  of  musi- 
cians, &c.  in  Westminster,  which  may  be  seen,  thitl. 

t  Rymer,  ix.  255.  t  ^^i^^-  xi-  375- 


372  AN   ESSAY    ON 

from  K.  Edward  of  ten  marks  per  annum  during  life 
directed  to  him  with  that  title.  * 

But  besides  their  marshal,  we  have  also  in  this 
reign  mention  of  a  Sergeant  of  the  minstrels,  who 
upon  a  particular  occasion  was  able  to  do  his  royal 
master  a  singular  service,  wherein  his  confidential 
situation  and  ready  access  to  the  king  at  all  hours  is 
very  apparent;  for  "as  he  [K.  Edward  IV.]  was  in 
the  north  contray  in  the  monneth  of  Septembre,  as 
he  lay  in  his  bedde,  one  namid  Alexander  Carlile, 
that  was  Sariaunt  of  the  Mynsti^ellis,  cam  to  him  in 
grete  hast,  and  badde  hym  aryse  for  he  hadde  enemyes 
cummyng  for  to  take  him,  the  which  were  within  vi. 
or  vii.  mylis,  of  the  which  tydinges  the  king  gretely 
marveylid,  &c."f  This  happened  in  the  same  year, 
1469,  wherein  the  king  granted  or  confirmed  the 
charter  for  the  fraternity  or  Gild  above-mentioned  ; 
yet  this  Alexander  Carlisle  is  not  one  of  the  eight 
minstrels  to  whom  that  charter  is  directed.;]; 

The  same  charter  was  renewed  by  K.  Henry  VIII. 
in  1520,  to  John  Oilman  his  then  marshal,  and  to 
seven  others  his  minstrels  ;  §  and  on  the  death  of 
Oilman  he  granted  in  1529  this  office  of  Marshal  of 
his  minstrels  to  HuQ;h  Wodehouse,||  whom  I  take  to 
have  borne  the  office  of  his  serjeant  over  them.^ 

*  Rymer,  xi.  512. 

f  Here  unfortunately  ends  a  curious  fragment  (an.  9,  E.  IV.), 
ad  calcem  Sprotti  C/iron.  Ed.  Hearne,  Oxon.  17 19,  8vo.  Vid.  T. 
Warton's  Hist.  ii.  p.  134,  note  (c). 

X  Rymer,  xi.  642.         §  Ibid.  xiii.  705.         ||  Ibid.  xiv.  2.  93. 

IT  So  I  am  inclined  to  understand  the  term  Serviens  noster  Hugo 
Wodchous,  in  the  original  Grant  (see  Rymer,  ubi  supra).  It  is 
needless  to  observe  that  Serviens  expressed  a  serjeant  as  well  as  a 
servant.  If  this  interpretation  of  Serviens  be  allowed,  it  Avill  account 
for  his  placing  Wodehouse  at  the  head  of  his  Gild,  although  he 
had  not  been  one  of  the  eight  minstrels  who  had  had  the  general 
direction.  The  serjeant  of  his  minstrells,  we  may  presume,  was 
next  in  dignity  to  the  marshal,  although  he  had  no  share  in  the 
government  of  the  Gild. 


THE    ANCIENT   MINSTRELS. 


v5/  O 


VI.  In  all  the  establishments  of  royal  and  noble 
households,  we  find  an  ample  provision  made  for  the 
minstrels  ;  and  their  situation  to  have  been  both 
honourable  and  lucrative.  In  proof  of  this  it  is 
sufficient  to  refer  to  the  Household  Book  of  the  Earl 
of  Northumberland,  a.d.  1512.(0  c)  And  the  re- 
wards they  received  so  frequently  recur  in  ancient 
writers  that  it  is  unnecessary  to  crowd  the  page  with 
them  here,  (c  c  2) 

The  name  of  minstrel  seems  however  to  have  been 
gradually  appropriated  to  the  musician  only,  especially 
in  the  fifteenth  and  sixteenth  centuries  ;  yet  we  oc- 
casionally meet  with  applications  of  the  term  in  its 
more  enlarged  meaning  as  including  the  singer,  if 
not  the  composer  of  heroic  or  popular  rhymes.* 

In  the  time  of  K.  Henry  VIII.  we  find  it  to  have 
been  a  common  entertainment  to  hear  verses  recited, 
or  moral  speeches  learned  for  that  purpose,  by  a  set 
of  men  who  got  their  livelihood  by  repeating  them,  and 
who  intruded  without  ceremony  into  all  companies  ; 
not  only  in  taverns,  but  in  the  houses  of  the  nobility 
themselves.  This  we  learn  from  Erasmus,  whose  ar- 
gument led  him  only  to  describe  a  species  of  these 
men  who  did  not  smg  their  compositions  ;  but  the 
others  that  did,  enjoyed  without  doubt  the  same 
privileges,  (d  d) 

For  even  long  after,  in  the  reign  of  Queen  Eliza- 
beth, it  was  usual  "in  places  of  assembly"  for  the 
company  to  be  "  desirous  to  heare  of  old  adventures 
and  valiaunces  of  noble  knights  in  times  past,  as 
those  of  king  Artliur,  and  his  knights  of  the  round 
table,  Sir  Bevys  of  Southampton,  Guy  of  Warwicke 
and  others  like"  in  "  short  and  long  meetres,  and  by 
breaches  or  divisions   (sc.  Fits)f  to  be  more  com- 


*  See  below,  and  Note  o  g. 
t  See  vol.  ii.  bcjok  2,  No.  10. 


374  AN  ESSAY   ON 

modiously  sung  to  the  harpe,"  as  the  reader  may  be 
informed  by  a  courtly  writer  in  1589.*  Who  him- 
self had  "written  for  pleasure  a  litle  brief  romance 
or  historicall  ditty  .  .  .  of  the  Isle  of  Great  Britaine" 
in  order  to  contribute  to  such  entertainment.  And 
he  subjoins  this  caution  :  "  Such  as  have  not  pre- 
monition hereof"  (viz.  that  his  poem  was  written  in 
short  metre,  &c.  to  be  sung  to  the  harpe  in  such 
places  of  assembly),  "and  consideration  of  the 
causes  alledged,  would  peradventure  reprove  and 
disgrace  every  romance,  or  short  historicall  ditty  for 
that  they  be  not  written  in  long  meeters  or  verses 
Alexandrins,"  which  constituted  the  prevailing  versi- 
fication among  the  poets  of  that  age,  and  which  no 
one  now  can  endure  to  read. 

And  that  the  recital  of  such  romances  sung  to  the 
harp  was  at  that  time  the  delight  of  the  common 
people,  we  are  told  by  the  same  writer,!  who  mentions 
that  "  common  rimers"  were  fond  of  usinof  rimes  at 
short  distances,  "  in  small  and  popular  musickes  song 
by  these  Cantabanqui "  (the  said  common  rimers) 
"  upon  benches  and  barrels  heads,"  &c.  "  or  else  by 
blind  harpers  or  such  like  Taverne  minstrels  that 
give  a  fit  of  mirth  for  a  groat ;  and  their  matter  being 
for  the  most  part  stories  of  old  time,  as  the  Tale  of 
Sir  Topas,  the  reportes  of  Bevis  of  Southampton,  Guy 
of  Warwicke,  Adam  Bell,  and  Clymme  of  the  Clough, 
and  such  other  old  romances,  or  historicall  rimes," 
&c.  "  also  they  be  used  in  carols  and  rounds,  and  such 
light  or  lascivious  poemes,  which  are  commonly  more 
commodiously  uttered  by  these  buffons,  or  vices  in 
playes,  then  by  any  other  person.  Such  were  the 
rimes  of  Skelton  (usurping  the  name  of  a  poet  lau- 


*  Puttenham  in  his  Arte  of  English  Poesie,  1589,  4to.  p.  33.  See 
the  quotation  in  its  proper  order  in  vol.  ii.  book  ii.  No.  10. 
t  Ibid.  p.  69.     See  vol.  ii.  book  2,  No.  10. 


THE    ANCIENT   MINSTRELS,     375 

reat)  being  in  deede  but  a  rude  railing  rimer,  and  all 
his  doings  ridiculous."* 

But  althouLrh  we  find  here  that  the  minstrels  had 
lost  much  of  their  dignity,  and  were  sinking  into  con- 
tempt and  neglect  :  yet  that  they  still  sustained  a 
character  far  superior  to  anything  we  can  conceive  at 
present  of  the  singers  of  old  ballads,  I  think,  may  be 
inferred  from  the  following  representation. 

When  Oueen  Elizabeth  was  entertained  at  Killino^- 
worth  Castle  by  the  Earl  of  Leicester  in  1575,  among 
the  many  devices  and  pageants  which  were  contrived 
for  her  entertainment,  one  of  the  personages  intro- 
duced was  to  have  been  that  of  an  ancient  minstrel  ; 
whose  appearance  and  dress  are  so  minutely  described 
by  a  writer  there  present, f  and  give  us  so  distinct 
an  idea  of  the  character,  that  I  shall  quote  the  pas- 
sage at  large,  (e  e) 

"  A  person  very  meet  seemed  he  for  the  purpose, 
of  a  xlv  years  old,  apparelled  partly  as  he  would  him- 
self His  cap  off;  his  head  seemly  rounded  Tonsler 
wise  :  \  fair  kembed,  that  with  a  sponge  daintily  dipt 
in  a  little  capon's  greace  was  finely  smoothed,  to 
make  it  shine  like  a  mallard's  winof.  His  beard 
smugly  shaven  :  and  yet  his  shirt  after  the  new  trink, 
with  ruffs  fair  starched,  sleeked  and  glistering  like  a 
pair  of  new  shoes,  marshalled  in  good  order  with  a 
setting  stick,  and  strut,  that  every  ruff  stood  up  like 
a  wafer.     A  side  (/.  e.  long)  gown  of  Kendal  green, 

*  Puttenham,  &c.  p.  69. 

t  See  a  very  curious  "  Letter :  whearin,  i)art  of  the  entertain- 
ment untoo  the  Queenz  Maiesty,  at  Killingwoorth  Castl,  in  War- 
wick Sheer,  in  this  soomerz  Progress  1575,  iz  signified,"  &c.  bl.  1. 
4to.  vid.  p.  46,  &  secjq.  (Printed  in  Nichols's  Colhxtion  of  Qmxn 
Elizahetlis  Progresses,  &c.  in  2  vols.  4to.)  We  have  not  followed 
above  the  peculiar  and  affected  orthography  of  this  writer,  who  was 
named  Ro.  Laneham,  or  rather  Langhain. 

\   I  sujjpose  "  Tonsure-wise,"  after  the  manner  of  the  monks. 


376  AN   ESSAY    ON 

after  the  freshness  of  the  year  now,  gathered  at  the 
neck  with  a  narrow  gorget,  fastened  afore  with  a 
white  clasp  and  a  keeper  close  up  to  the  chin ;  but 
easily,  for  heat  to  undo  when  he  list.  Seemly 
begirt  in  a  red  caddis  girdle  :  from  that  a  pair  of 
capped  Sheffield  knives  hanging  a'  two  sides.  Out 
of  his  bosom  drawn  forth  a  lappet  of  his  napkin* 
edged  with  a  blue  lace,  and  marked  with  a  true  love, 
a  heart,  and  a  D  for  Damian,  for  he  was  but  a  bat- 
chelor  yet. 

"  His  gown  had  side  {i.  e.  long)  sleeves  down  to 
mid-leg,  slit  from  the  shoulder  to  the  hand,  and 
lined  with  white  cotton.  His  doublet-sleeves  of  black 
worsted  :  upon  them  a  pair  of  poynetsf  of  tawny 
chamlet  laced  alono;  the  wrist  with  blue  threaden 
points,  a  wealt  towards  the  hand  of  fustian-a-napes. 
A  pair  of  red  neather  stocks.  A  pair  of  pumps  on  his 
feet,  with  a  cross  cut  at  the  toes  for  corns  :  not  new 
indeed,  yet  cleanly  blackt  with  soot,  and  shining  as  a 
shoing  horn. 

"  About  his  neck  a  red  ribband  suitable  to  his 
girdle.  His  harp  in  good  grace  dependent  before 
him.  His  wrest^!  tyed  to  a  green  lace  and  hanging 
by.  Under  the  gorget  of  his  gown  a  fair  flaggon 
chain  (pewter,§  for)  silver,  as  a  squire  minstrel  of 
Middlesex,  that  travelled  the  country  this  summer 
season,  unto  fairs  and  worshipful  mens  houses. 
From  his  chain  hung  a  scutcheon,  with  metal  and 
colour,  resplendant  upon  his  breast,  of  the  ancient 
arms  of  Islington." 

Tiiis  minstrel  is    described  as   belong-inof  to  that 

_: \ ,, _ 

*  /.  <?. 'handkerchief.    So  in  Shakspear's  Othello,  passim. 

t  Perhaps,  points. 

\  The  key,  or  screw,  with  which  he  tuned  his  harp. 

§  The  reader  will  remember  that  this  was  not  a  real  minstrel, 
but  only  one  personating  that  character ;  his  ornaments  therefore 
were  only  such  as  outwardly  represented  those  of  a  real  minstrel. 


THE    ANCIENT   MINSTRELS.     377 

village.  I  suppose  such  as  were  retained  by  noble 
families  wore  the  arms  of  their  patrons  hanging 
down  by  a  silver  chain  as  a  kind  of  badge.*  From 
the  expression  of  squire  minstrel  above,  we  may 
conclude  there  were  other  inferior  orders,  as  yeomen 
minstrels  or  the  like. 

This  minstrel,  the  author  tells  us  a  little  below, 
"  after  three  lowly  courtsies,  cleared  his  voice  Avith  a 
hem  .  .  .  and  .  .  .  wiped  his  lips  with  the  hollow 
of  his  hand  for  'filing  his  napkin,  tempered  a  string 
or  two  with  his  wrest,  and  after  a  little  warbling  on 
his  harp  for  a  prelude,  came  forth  with  a  solemn 
song,  warranted  for  story  out  of  King  Arthur's  acts, 
&c."  This  song  the  reader  will  find  printed  in  this 
work,  vol.  iii.  book  i.  No.  3. 

Towards  the  end  of  the  sixteenth  century  this 
class  of  men  had  lost  all  credit,  and  were  sunk  so 
low  in  the  public  opinion,  that  in  the  39th  year  of 
Elizabeth,t  a  statute  was  passed  by  which  "minstrels, 
wandering  abroad,"  were  included  among  "  rogues, 
vagabonds,  and  sturdy  beggars,"  and  were  adjudged 
to  be  punished  as  such.  This  act  seems  to  have  put 
an  end  to  the  profession,  (e  e  2) 


*  As  the  house  of  Northumberland  had  anciently  three  minstrels 
attending  on  them  in  their  castles  in  Yorkshire,  so  they  still  retain 
three  in  their  service  in  Northumberland,  who  wear  the  badge  of 
the  family  (a  silver  crescent  on  the  right  arm),  and  are  thus  dis- 
tributed; viz.  one  for  the  barony  of  Prudhoe,  and  two  for  the 
barony  of  Rothbury.  These  attend  the  court  leets  and  fairs  held 
for  the  Lord,  and  jjay  their  annual  suit  and  service  at  Alnwick 
castle;  their  instrument  being  the  ancient  Northumberland  bagpipe 
(very  different  in  form  and  execution  from  that  of  the  Scots,  being 
smaller;  and  blown,  not  with  the  breath,  but  with  a  small  pair  of 
bellows). 

This,  with  many  other  venerable  customs  of  the  ancient  Lord 
Percys,  was  revived  by  their  illustrious  representatives  the  late  Duke 
and  Dutchess  of  Northumberland. 

t  Anno  Dom.  1597.     Vid.  riilt.  Stal.  p.  1 1  lo,  39  Eli/.. 


378  AN   ESSAY    ON 

VII.  I  cannot  conclude  this  account  of  the  ancient 
English  minstrels,  without  remarking  that  they  are 
most  of  them  represented  to  have  been  of  the  North 
of  England.  There  is  scarce  an  old  historical  song 
or  ballad  (f  f)  wherein  a  minstrel  or  harper  appears, 
but  he  is  characterized  by  way  of  eminence  to  have 
been  "of  the  North  countreye  :"*  and,  indeed,  the 
prevalence  of  the  Northern  dialect  in  such  composi- 
tions shews  that  this  representation  is  real.f  On 
the  other  hand,  the  scene  of  the  finest  Scottish  bal- 
lads is  laid  in  the  south  of  Scotland  ;  which  should 
seem  to  have  been  peculiarly  the  nursery  of  Scottish 
minstrels.  In  the  old  song  of  Maggy  Lawder,  a 
piper  is  asked,  by  way  of  distinction,  "  Come  ye  frae 

*  See  this  vol.  Song  6,  v.  156,  180,  &c. 

t  Giraldus  Cambrensis,  writing  in  the  reign  of  K.  Henry  II. 
mentions  a  very  extraordinary  habit  or  propensity,  which  then  pre- 
vailed in  the  north  of  England,  beyond  the  Humber,  for  "  sym- 
phonious  harmony,"  or  singing  "  in  two  parts,  the  one  murmuring 
n  the  base,  and  the  other  warbling  in  the  acute  or  treble."  (I  use 
Dr.  Burney's  version,  vol.  ii.  p.  108.)  This  he  describes  as  prac- 
tised by  their  very  children  from  the  cradle  ;  and  he  derives  it 
from  the  Danes  (so  Daci  signifies  in  our  old  writers)  and  Norwe- 
gians, who  long  over-run  and  in  effect  new-peopled  the  northern 
parts  of  England,  where  alone  this  manner  of  singing  prevailed. 
(Vide  Cambricz  Description  cap.  13,  and  in  Burney,  ubi  supra?) 
Giraldus  is  probably  right  as  to  the  origin  or  derivation  of  this 
practise,  for  the  Danish  and  Icelandic  scalds  had  carried  the  arts 
of  poetry  and  singing  to  great  perfection  at  the  time  the  Danish 
settlements  were  made  in  the  north.  And  it  will  also  help  to 
account  for  the  superior  skill  and  fame  of  our  northern  minstrels 
and  harpers  afterwards :  who  had  preserved  and  transmitted  the 
arts  of  their  scaldic  ancestors.  See  Northern  Antiquities,  vol.  i.  c. 
13,  p.  386,  and  Five  pieces  of  Runic  poetry ,  1763,  8vo.  Compare 
the  original  passage  in  Giraldus,  as  given  by  Sir  John  Hawkins,  i. 
408,  and  by  Dr.  Burney,  ii.  108,  who  are  both  at  a  loss  to  account 
for  this  peculiarity,  and  therefore  doubt  the  fact.  The  credit  of 
Giraldus,  which  hath  been  attacked  by  some  partial  and  bigotted 
antiquaries,  the  reader  will  find  defended  in  that  learned  and  curious 
work.  Antiquities  of  Ireland,  by  Edward  Ledwich,  LL.D.  &c.  Dub- 
lin, 1790,  4to.  p.  207,  &  seqq. 


THE   ANCIENT  MINSTRELS.     379 

the  Border?"*  The  martial  spirit  constantly  kept 
up  and  exercised  near  the  frontier  of  the  two  king- 
doms, as  it  furnished  continual  subjects  for  their 
songs,  so  it  inspired  the  inhabitants  of  the  adjacent 
counties  on  both  sides  with  the  powers  of  jDoetry. 
Besides,  as  our  southern  metropolis  must  have  been 
ever  the  scene  of  novelty  and  refinement,  the  north- 
ern countries,  as  being  most  distant,  would  preserve 
their  ancient  manners  longest,  and,  of  course,  the 
old  poetry,  in  which  those  manners  are  peculiarl)- 
described. 

The  reader  will  observe  in  the  more  ancient  bal- 
lads of  this  collection,  a  cast  of  style  and  measure 
very  different  from  that  of  contemporary  poets  of  a 
higher  class  ;  many  phrases  and  idioms,  which  the 
minstrels  seem  to  have  apj^ropriated  to  themselves, 
and  a  ver)'  remarkable  licence  of  varying  the  accent 

*  This  line  being  quoted  from  memory,  and  given  as  old  Scottish 
poetr}',  would  have  been  readily  corrected  by  the  copy  published 
in  Scottish  Songs,  1794,  2  vols.  i2mo.  i.  p.  267,  thus  (though  appa- 
rently corrupted  from  the  Scottish  idiom) : 

"  Live  you  upo'  the  Border  ?  " 

had  not  all  confidence  been  destroyed  by  its  being  altered  in  the 
Historical  Essay,  prefixed  to  that  publication  (p.  ex.)  to 

"  Ye  live  upo'  the  Border," 

the  better  to  favour  a  position,  that  many  of  the  pipers  "  might  live 
upon  the  border,  for  the  conveniency  of  attending  fairs,  &c.  in  both 
kingdoms."  But  whoever  is  acquainted  with  that  part  of  England 
knows  that  on  the  English  frontier  rude  mountains  and  barren 
wastes  reach  almost  across  the  island,  scarcely  inhaljited  by  any 
but  solitary  shepherds ;  many  of  whom  durst  not  venture  into  the 
opi^ositc  border  on  account  of  the  ancient  feuds  and  subsequent 
disputes  concerning  the  Debatable  Lands,  which  separated  the 
boundaries  of  the  two  kingdoms,  as  well  as  the  estates  of  the  tvvo 
great  families  of  Percy  and  Douglas  ;  till  these  disi)utes  were  settled, 
not  many  years  since,  by  arbitration  between  the  present  Lord 
Doughs,  and  the  late  Duke  and  Dutchess  of  Northumberland. 


38o  AN   ESSAY    ON 

of  words  at  pleasure,  in  order  to  humour  the  flow  of 
the  verse,  particularly  in  the  rhimes ;  as 

Coiintrie  harper  battel  viorntng 

Laitie  singer  damsel  loving^ 

instead  of  country,  lady,  harper,  singer,  &c.  This 
liberty  is  but  sparingly  assvimed  by  the  classical 
poets  of  the  same  age ;  or  even  by  the  latter  com- 
posers of  heroical  ballads,  I  mean  by  such  as  pro- 
fessedly wrote  for  the  press.  For  it  is  to  be  ob- 
served, that  so  long  as  the  minstrels  subsisted,  they 
seem  never  to  have  designed  their  rhymes  for  liter- 
ary publication,  and  probably  never  committed  them 
to  writing  themselves  ,  what  copies  are  preserved  of 
them  were  doubtless  taken  down  from  their  mouths. 
But  as  the  old  minstrels  gradually  wore  out,  a  new 
race  of  ballad-writers  succeeded,  an  inferior  sort  of 
minor  poets,  who  wrote  narrative  songs  merely  for 
the  press.  Instances  of  both  may  be  found  in  the 
reign  of  Elizabeth.  The  two  latest  pieces  in  the 
genuine  strain  of  the  old  minstrelsy  that  I  can  dis- 
cover are  No.  3  and  4  of  book  iii.  in  this  volume. 
Lower  than  these  I  cannot  trace  the  old  mode  of 
writing. 

The  old  minstrel  ballads  are  in  the  northern 
dialect,  abound  with  antique  words  and  phrases,  are 
extremely  incorrect,  and  run  into  the  utmost  licence 
of  metre  ;  they  have  also  a  romantic  wildness,  and 
are  in  the  true  spirit  of  chivalry.  The  other  sort 
are  written  in  exacter  measure,  have  a  low  or  subor- 
dinate correctness,  sometimes  bordering  on  the  in- 
sipid, yet  often  well  adapted  to  the  pathetic ;  these 
are  generally  in  the  southern  dialect,  exhibit  a  more 
modern  phraseology,  and  are  commonly  descriptive 
of  more  modern  manners.  To  be  sensible  of  the 
difference  between    them,  let   the   reader   compare 


THE    ANCIENT   MINSTRELS.     381 

in  this  volume  No.  3   of  book  iii.  with   No.    1 1    of 
book  ii. 

Towards  the  end  of  Oueen  EHzabeth's  reiofn  (as 
is  mentioned  above),  the  genuine  old  minstrelsy 
seems  to  have  been  extinct,  and  henceforth  the  bal- 
lads that  were  produced  were  wholly  of  the  latter 
kind,  and  these  came  forth  in  such  abundance  that 
in  the  reign  of  James  I.  they  began  to  be  collected 
into  little  miscellanies,  under  the  name  of  Garlands, 
and  at  length  to  be  written  purposely  for  such  col- 
lections, (f  f  2) 

P.S.  By  way  of  postscript  should  follow  here  the  discussion  of 
the  question  whether  the  term  Minstrels  was  applied  in  English  to 
singers  and  composers  of  songs,  &c.  or  confined  to  musicians  only. 
But  it  is  reserved  for  the  concluding  note,  (c  g) 


THE    END    OF    THE    ESSAY, 


382 


NOTES    AND     ILLUSTRATIONS 

REFERRED  TO  IN  THE  FOREGOING  ESSAY. 

(a)   The  Minstrels,  &'c^ 

r~  H^^r^^  HE  word  minstrel  does  not  appear  to  have  been  in  use 
here  before  the  Norman  Conquest :  whereas  it  had 
long  before  that  time  been  adopted  in  France.*  Mene- 
strel,  so  early  as  the  eighth  century,  was  a  title  given 
to  the  Maestro  di  Capclla  of  K.  Pepin,  the  father  of  Charlemagne ; 
and  afterwards  to  the  Coryphaeus,  or  leader  of  any  band  of  mu- 
sicians (v.  Bume/s  Hist,  of  Music,  ii.  268).  This  term  menestrel, 
menestrier  was  thus  expressed  in  Latin,  ministellus,  ministrellus, 
viinistr alius,  menesterellus,  &c.  (Vid.  Gloss.  Die  Cange,  and  Supple- 
ment.) 

Menage  derives  the  French  words  above  mentioned  from  minis- 
terialis  or  ministeriarius,  barbarous  Latin  terms,  used  in  the  middle 
ages  to  express  a  workman  or  artificer  (still  called  in  Languedoc 
ministral),  as  if  these  men  were  styled  artificers  or  performers  by 
way  of  excellence  (vid.  Diction.  Etym.)  But  the  origin  of  the 
name  is  given  perhaps  more  truly  by  Du  Cange,  "  Ministelli  .  .  . 
quos  vulgo  menestreux  vel  mencstricrs  appellamus,  quod  minoribus 
aulse  ministris  accenserentur."  {Gloss,  iv.  p.  769.)  Accordingly, 
we  are  told,  the  word  '•'■minister"  is  sometimes  used  "pro  minis- 
tellus'''' {Ibid.),  and  an  instance  is  produced  which  I  shall  insert  at 
lar^e  in  the  next  paragraph. 

//    Minstrels  sometimes  assisted  at  divine  service,  as  appears  from 
^  the  record  of  the  ninth  of  Edw.  IV.  quoted  above  in  p.  37 1  by  which 

r"'  *  The  Anglo-Saxon  and  primary  English  name  for  this  character 

was  Gleeman  (see  below,  note  i,  sect,  i),  so  that  wherever  the 
term  minstrel  is  in  these  pages  applied  to  it  before  the  Conquest, 
it  must  be  understood  to  be  only  by  anticipation.  Another  early 
name  for  this  profession  in  English  was  jogeler,  or  jocular,  Lat. 
joculator.  (See  p.  353,  as  also  note  v  2  and  note  Q.)  To  prevent 
confusion,  we  have  chiefly  used  the  more  general  word  minstrel, 
which  (as  the  author  of  the  Observ.  on  the  Statutes  hath  suggested 
to  the  editor)  might  have  been  originally  derived  from  a  diminutive 
of  the  Lat.  minister,  scil.  minister ellus,  ministrellus. 


NOTES    ON    THE    ESSAY.        i^2> 

Haliday  and  others  are  erected  into  a  perpetual  Gild,  &c.  See  the 
original  in  Rjmer,  xi.  642.  By  part  of  this  record  it  is  recited  to 
be  their  duty  to  pray  {exorarc :  which  it  is  presumed  they  did  by 
assisting  in  the  chant,  and  musical  accompaniment,  &c.)  The 
same  also  appears  from  the  passage  in  the  Supplem.  to  Du  Cange, 
alluded  to  above.  "  Minister  .  .  .  pro  Ministcllus  Joculator* — 
Vetus  ceremoniale  MS.  B.  M.  deauratae  Tolos.  Item,  etiam  congre- 
gabuntur  Piscatores,  qui  debent  interesse  isto  die  in  processione 
cum  Ministris  seu  Joculatoribus :  quia  ipsi  Piscatores  tenentur 
habere  isto  die  Joculaiores,  seu  Mimos  ob  honorem  Criccis — et 
vadunt  primi  ante  processionem  cum  Ministris  seu  Joculatoribus 
semper  pulsantibus  usque  ad  ecclesiam  S.  Stephani"  {G/oss.  TJs)- 
This  may  perhaps  account  for  the  clerical  appearance  of  the 
minstrels,  who  seem  to  have  been  distinguished  by  the  tonsure, 
which  was  one  of  the  inferior  marks  of  the  clerical  character.! 
Thus  Jeft'ery  of  Monmouth,  speaking  of  one  who  acted  the  part  of 
a  minstrel,  says,  Hasit  capillos  sues  cv  barbam  (see  note  k). 
Again,  a  writer  in  the  reign  of  Elizabeth,  describing  the  habit  of 
an  ancient  minstrel,  speaks  of  his  head  as  "  rounded  tonster-wise  " 
(which  I  venture  to  read  tonsure-wise),  "  his  beard  smugly 
shaven."    See  above,  p.  375. 

It  must,  however,  be  observed,  that  notwithstanding  such 
clerical  appearance  of  the  minstrels,  and  though  they  might  be 
sometimes  countenanced  by  such  of  the  clergy  as  were  of  more 
relaxed  morals,  their  sportive  talents  rendered  them  generally  ob- 
noxious to  the  more  rigid  ecclesiastics,  and  to  such  of  the  religious 
orders  as  were  of  more  severe  discipline ;  whose  writings  commonly 


*  Ministers  seems  to  be  used  for  minstrels  in  the  account  of  the 
Inthronization  of  Abp.  Neville  (An.  6,  Edw.  IV.).  "  Then  all  the 
Chaplyns  must  say  grace,  and  the  ministers  do  sing."  Vid.  Lelandi 
Collectanea,  by  Heame,  vol.  vi.  p.  13. 

t  It  has,  however,  been  suggested  to  the  editor  by  the  learned 
and  ingenious  author  of  Irish  Antiquities,  4to.  that  the  ancient 
mimi  among  the  Romans  had  their  heads  and  beards  shaven,  as  is 
shown  by  Salmasius  in  Notis  ad  Hist.  August.  Scriptorcs  VI.  Paris,. 
1622,  fol.  p.  385.  So  that  this  peculiarity  had  a  classical  origin, 
though  it  aftenvards  might  make  the  minstrels  sometimes  pass  for 
ecclesiastics,  as  appears  from  the  instance  given  below.  Dr.  Bur- 
ney  tells  us  that  histriones  and  ;;//////  abounded  in  France  in  the 
time  of  Charlemagne  (ii.  221),  so  that  their  profession  was  handed 
down  in  reguhr  succession  from  the  time  of  the  Romans,  and 
therewith  some  leading  distinctions  of  their  habit  or  appearance  ; 
yet  with  a  change  in  their  arts  of  pleasing,  wliich  latterly  were 
most  confined  to  singing  and  music. 


384  AW  TBS    ON    THE 

abound  with  heavy  complaints  of  the  great  encouragement  shewn 
to  those  men  by  the  princes  and  nobles,  and  who  can  seldom 
afford  them  a  better  name  than  that  of  sciirra;,  famelici,  nebulones, 
&c.  of  which  innumerable  instances  may  be  seen  in  Du  Cange.  It 
was  even  an  established  order  in  some  of  the  monasteries,  that  no 
minstrel  should  ever  be  suffered  to  enter  their  gates.* 

We  have,  however,  innumerable  particulars  of  the  good  cheer 
and  great  rewards  given  to  the  minstrels  in  many  of  the  convents, 
which  are  collected  by  T.  Warton  (i.  91,  &c.)  and  others.  But 
one  instance,  quoted  from  Wood's  Hist.  Antiq.  Univ.  Ox.  i.  67. 
(Sub.  An.  1224)  deserves  particular  mention.  Two  itinerant 
priests,  on  a  supposition  of  their  being  minii  or  minstrels,  gained 
admittance.  But  the  cellarer,  sacrist,  and  others  of  the  brethren, 
who  had  hoped  to  have  been  entertained  with  their  diverting  arts, 
&:c.  when  they  found  them  to  be  only  two  indigent  ecclesiastics, 
who  could  only  administer  spiritual  consolation,  and  were  conse- 
quently disappointed  of  their  mirth,  beat  them  and  turned  them 
out  of  the  monastery.  {Ibid.  p.  92.)  This  passage  furnishes  an  ad- 
ditional proof  that  a  minstrel  might  by  his  dress  or  appearance  be 
mistaken  for  an  ecclesiastic. 

(b)  The  minstrels  tise  mimicry  and  actioji,  and  other  means 
of  diverting,  &^c.'\  It  is  observable  that  our  old  monkish  historians 
do  not  use  the  words  cantator,  citharcedus,  musicus,  or  the  like, 
to  express  a  minstrel  in  Latin,  so  frequently  as  mimus,  hist?'io, 
Jociilator,  or  some  other  word  that  implies  gesture.  Hence  it 
might  be  inferred  that  the  minstrels  set  off  their  songs  with  all  the 
\'  arts  of  gesticulation,  &c.  or  according  to  the  ingenious  hypothesis 
of  Dr.  Brown,  united  the  powers  of  melody,  poem,  and  dance. 
(See  his  History  of  the  Rise  of  Poetry,  &c.) 

But  indeed  all  the  old  writers  describe  them  as  exercising 
various  arts  of  this  kind.  Joinville,  in  his  Life  of  S.  Lewis,  speaks 
of  some  Armenian  minstrels,  who  were  very  dextrous  tumblers  and 
posture  masters.  "  Avec  le  Prince  vinrent  trois  Menestriers  de  la 
Grande  Hyermenie  (Armenia)  .  .  .  .  et  avoient  trois  cors — Quand 
ils  encommenceoient  a  corner,  vous  dissiez  que  ce  sont  les  voix 
de  cygnes,  ....  et  fesoient  les  plus  douces  melodies. — lis 
fesoient  trois  merveilleus  saus,  car  on  leur  metoit  une  touaille  de- 
sous  les  piez,  et  tournoient  tout  debout.  .  .  .  Les  deux  tournoients 


*  Yet  in  St.  Mary's  church  at  Beverley,  one  of  the  columns  hath 
this  inscription:  "  Thys  Pillar  made  the  Mynstrylls;"  having  its 
capital  decorated  with  figures  of  five  men  in  short  coats ;  one  of 
whom  holds  an  instrument  resembling  a  lute.  See  Sir  J.  Hawkins' 
Hist.  ii.  298. 


FOREGOING    ESSAY.  385 

les  testes  arieres,"  &c.  (See  the  extract  at  large,  in  the  Hon.  D. 
Barrington's  Obsert<ations  onthe  Anc.  Statutes ^  4to.  2nd  edit.  p.  273, 
omitted  in  the  last  impression.) 

This  may  also  account  for  that  remarkable  clause  in  the  press 
warrant  of  Henry  VI.  "  De  Ministrallis  propter  solatium  regis  pro- 
ru/em/i's,"  by  which  it  is  required,  that  the  boys,  to  be  provided  ;>/ 
arte  Ministrallatus  instructos,  should  also  be  membris  naturalibus 
elegantes.  Seeabove,p. 370.  ((9^jrrz'.w/M^^//r.6'/<7/. 4thedit. p.337.)    ^ 

Although  by  minstrel  was  properly  understood,  in  English,  one 
who  sung  to  the  harp,  or  some  other  instrument  of  music,  verses 
composed  by  himself  or  others ;  yet  the  term  was  also  applied  by 
our  old  \vTiters  to  such  as  professed  either  music  or  singing  sepa- 
rately, and  perhaps  to  such  as  practised  any  of  the  sportive  arts 
connected  with  these.*  Music,  however,  being  the  leading  idea, 
was  at  length  peculiarly  called  minstrelsy,  and  the  name  of  minstrel  . 
at  last  confined  to  the  musician  only.  ^ 

In  the  French  language  all  these  arts  were  included  under  the 
general  name  of  menestraudie,  menestraudise,  Jofiglerie,  &c.  (Med. 
Lat.  menestellorum  ars,  ars  joeulatoria,  &c.)  "  On  pent  com- 
prendre  sous  le  nom  de  jonglerie  tout  ce  qui  appartient  aux  anciens 
chansonniers  Provengaux,  Normands,  Picards,  &c.  Le  corps  de 
la  jonglerie  etoit  forme  des  trouveres,  ou  troubadours,  qui  com- 
posoient  les  chansons,  et  parmi  lesquels  il  y  avoit  des  improrisateurs, 
comme  on  en  trouve  en  Itahe;  des  chanteurs  ou  ehanteres  qui 
executoient  ou  chantoient  ces  compositions ;  des  conteurs  qui  i 
faisoient  en  vers  ou  en  prose  les  contes,  les  recits,  les  histoires; 
des  jongleurs  ou  i?ienestrels  qui  accompagnoient  de  leurs  instru- 
mens, — L'art  de  ces  chantres  ou  chansonniers,  etoit  nomme  la 
Science  Gaie,  Gay  Saber!'  (Pref.  Anthologie  Fran{.  1765,  8vo.  p. 
17.)  See  also  the  curious  Fauchet  {De  i'Orig.  de  la  Lang.  Fr. 
p.  72,  &c.)  "  Bien  tost  apres  la  division  de  ce  grand  empire 
Francois  en  tant  de  petits  royaumes,  duchez,  &  comtez,  au  lieu 
des  Poetes  commencerent  a  se  faire  cognoistre  les  trouverres,  et 
chanterres,  conteours,  et  jugleours :  qui  sont  trouveurs,  chantres, 
conteurs,  jongleurs,  ou  jugleurs,  c'est  \  dire,  menestriers  chantans 
avec  la  viole."  .-_^^ 

We  see  then  Xh^X  jongleur,  Jugleur,  {\.zX.  joailator,juglator)  was      j 
a  peculiar  name  appropriated  to  the  minstrels.      "  Les  jongleurs      ' 
ne  faisoient  que  chanter  les  poesies  sur  leurs  instrumens.     On  les 
appelloit  aussi  Menestrels,"  says  Fontenelle,  in  his  Hist,  du  Theat. 
Franc,  prefixed  to  his  Life  of  Corneille. 

(C)  Successors  of  the  ancient  bards.^  That  the  minstrels  in 
many  respects  bore  a  strong  resemblance  both  to  the  British  bards 


*  Vid.  infra,  not.  A  a. 
C  C 


386  NOTES    ON    THE 

and  to  the  Danish  scalds,  appears  from  this,  that  the  old  monkish 
writers  express  them  all  without  distinction  by  the  same  names  in 
Latin.  Thus  Geoffrey  of  Monmouth,  himself  a  Welshman,  speak- 
ing of  an  old  pagan  British  King,  who  excelled  in  singing  and 
music  so  far  as  to  be  esteemed  by  his  countr}'men  the  patron  deity 
of  the  bards,  uses  the  phrase  Deus  Joculatorum;  which  is  the  pe- 
culiar name  given  to  the  English  and  French  minstrels.*  In  like 
manner,  William  Malmesbury,  speaking  of  a  Danish  king's  assum- 
ing the  profession  of  a  scald,  expresses  it  by  professus  mimum ; 
which  was  another  name  given  to  the  minstrels  in  middle  latinity.f 
Indeed,  Du  Cange,  in  his  Glossary,  quotes  a  writer  who  positively 
asserts  that  the  minstrels  of  the  middle  ages  were  the  same  with  the 
ancient  bards.  I  shall  give  a  large  extract  from  this  learned  glosso- 
grapher,  as  he  relates  many  curious  particulars  concerning  the  pro- 
fession and  arts  of  the  minstrels  ;  whom,  after  the  monks,  he  stig- 
matizes by  the  name  of  scurrce ;  though  he  acknowledges  their 
songs  often  tended  to  inspire  virtue. 

"  Ministelli,  dicti  prsesertim  scurrce,  Mimi,  joculatores."  .... 
"  Ejusmodi  scurrarum  munus  erat  principes  non  suis  duntaxat 
ludicris  oblectare,  sed  et  eorum  aures  variis  avorum,  adeoque 
ipsorum  principum  laudibus,  non  sine  assentatione,  cum  cantilenis 
&  musicis  instrumentis  demulcere 

"  Interdum  etiam  virorum  insignium  &  heroum  gesta,  aut  ex- 
plicata  &  jocunda  narratione  commemorabant,  aut  suavi  vocis 
inflexione,  fidibusque  decantabant,  quo  sic  dominorum,  caetero- 
rumque  qui  his  intererant  ludicris,  nobilium  animos  ad  virtutem 
capessendam,  et  summorum  virorum  imitationem  accenderent : 
quod  fuit  olim  apud  Gallos  bardorum  ministerium,  ut  auctor  est 
Tacitus.  Neque  enim  alios  a  mmistellis,  veterum  Gallorum  bardos 

fuisse  pluribus  probat  Henricus  Valesius  ad  15  Ammiani 

Chronicon  Bertrandi  Guesclini. 

"  Qui  veut  avoir  renom  des  bons  &  des  vaillans 

II  doit  aler  souvent  a  la  pluie  &  au  champs 

Et  estre  en  la  bataille,  ainsy  que  fu  Rollans, 

Les  Quatre  Fils  Haimon,  &  Charlon  li  plus  grans, 

Li  dus  Lions  de  Bourges,  &  Guions  de  Connans 

Perceval  li  Galois,  Lancelot,  &  Tristans, 

Alixandres,  Artus,  Godfroi  li  Sachans, 

De  quoy  cils  menestriers  font  les  nobles  Romans." 

"  Nicolaus  de  Braia  describens  solenne  convivium,  quo  post 
inaugurationem  suam  proceres  excepit  Lud.  VIII.  rex  Francorum, 


*  Vid.  Not.  B.  K.  Q.  t  Vid.  Note  N. 


FOREGOING    ESSAY.  387 

ait  inter  ipsius  convivii  apparatum,  in  medium  prodiisse  mimum, 
qui  regis  laudes  ad  cytharam  decantavit." 

Our  author  then  gives  the  hnes  at  length,  which  begin  thus, 

"  Dumque  fovent  genium  geniaH  munere  Bacchi, 
Nectare  commixto  curas  removente  Ly?eo 
Principis  a  facie,  citharae  celeberrimus  arte 
Assurgit  mimus,  ars  musica  quem  decoravit. 
Hie  ergo  chorda  resonante  subintuht  ista : 
Inclyte  rex  regum,  probitatis  stemmate  vernans, 
Quem  vigor  &  virtus  extolHt  in  Kthera  famae,"  &c. 

The  rest  may  be  seen  in  Du  Cange,  who  thus  proceeds,  "  Mitto 
rehqua   simiha,   ex  quibus   omnino   patet  ejusmodi  mimorum   & 

ministellorum  cantilenas  ad  virtutem  principes  excitasse 

Id  prsesertim  in  pugnse  praecinctu,  dominis  suis  occinebant,  ut 
martium  ardorem  in  eomm  animis  concitarent :  cujusmodi  cantum 
Canti/cnam  Rollandi  appellat  Will.  Malmesb.  lib.  3.  Aimoinus, 
lib.  4.  de  Mirac.  S.  Bened.  c  37.  Tanta  vero  illis  securitas  .... 
ut  scurram  se  precedere  facerent,  qui  musico  instrumento  res 
fortiter  gestas  et  priorum  bella  praecineret,  quatenus  his  acrius 
incitarentur,  &:c.'  As  the  writer  was  a  monk,  we  shall  not  wonder 
at  his  calling  the  minstrel,  sairram. 

This  word  scurra,  or  some  one  similar,  is  represented  in  the 
Glossaries  as  the  proper  meaning  of  Icccator  (Fr.  leccoiir)  the  an- 
cient term  by  which  the  minstrel  appears  to  be  expressed  in  the 
Grant  to  Button,  quoted  above  in  page  363.  On  this  head  I  shall 
produce  a  very  curious  passage,  which  is  twice  quoted  in  Du 
Cange's  Glossary.  (Sc.  ad  verb.  Menestellus  &  ad  verb.  Lecator.) 
"  Philippus  Mouskes  in  Philip.  Aug.  fingit  Carolum  M.  Provincie 
comitatum  scurris  &  mimis  suis  olim  donasse,  indeque  postea 
tantum  in  hac  regione  poetarum  numerum  excrevisse. 

"  Quar  quant  li  buens  Rois  Karlemaigne 

Ot  toute  mise  a  son  dcmaine 

Provence,  qui  mult  icrt  plentive 

De  vins,  de  bois,  d'aigue,  de  rive, 

As  leccoiirs  as  menestreus 

Qui  sont  auques  luxuricus 

Lc  donna  toute  et  departi." 

(D)  The  poet  and  the  minstrel  early  with  us  became  tivo  per- 
sons. The  word  scald  comprehended  both  characters  among  the 
Danes,  nor  do  I  know  that  they  had  any  peculiar  name  for  either 
of  them  separate.  But  it  was  not  so  with  the  Anglo-Saxons.  They 
called  a  poet  8ceop,  and  LeoSpypta  :  the  last  of  these  comes  from 


388  NOTES    ON    THE 

Leo^,  a  song ;  and  the  former  answers  to  our  old  word  maker 
(Gr.  t\oLr}TriQ),  being  derived  from  Scippan  or  Sceopan,  formare, 
facere,  fingere,  creare  (Ang.  to  shape).  As  for  the  minstrel,  they 
distinguished  him  by  the  peculiar  appellation  of  Elijman,  and  per- 
haps by  the  more  simple  title  of  ^eajnpejie,  harper :  (See  below, 
notes  H,  I.)  This  last  title,  at  least,  is  often  given  to  a  minstrel  by 
our  most  ancient  English  rhymists.  See  in  this  work  vol.  i.  book  i. 
No.  6,  vol.  iii.  book  i.  No.  7. 

A  (E)  Minstrels  .  .  .  at  the  houses  of  the  great,  6^^.]  Du 
Cange  affirms,  that  in  the  middle  ages  the  courts  of  princes 
swarmed  so  much  with  this  kind  of  men,  and  such  large  sums  were  ex- 
pended in  maintaining  and  rewarding  them,  that  they  often  drained 
the  royal  treasures  :  especially,  he  adds,  of  such  as  were  delighted 
with  their  flatteries  {prcesertim  qui  ejusmodi  ministellorum  assentation- 
ibus  delcctabantur).  He  then  confirms  his  assertion  by  several  pas- 
sages out  of  monastic  writers,  who  sharply  inveigh  against  this 
extravagance.  Of  these  I  shall  here  select  only  one  or  two,  which 
show  what  kind  of  rewards  were  bestowed  on  these  old  songsters. 

"Rigordus  de  Gestis  Philippi  Aug.  an.  1185.  'Cum  in  curiis 
regum  seu  aliorum  principum,  frequens  turba  histrionuro.  convenire 
soleat,  ut  ab  eis  aurum,  argentum,  equos,  seu  vestes,*  quos  perssepe 
mutare  consueverunt  principes,  ab  eis  extorqueant,  verba  jocula- 
toria  variis  adulationibus  plena  proferre  nituntur.  Et  ut  magis 
.  placeant,  quicquid  de  ipsis  principibus  probabiliter  fingi  potest, 
videlicet  omnes  delitias  et  lepores,  et  visu  dignas  urbanitates  et 
cseteras  ineptias,  trutinantibus  buccis  in  medium  eructare  non 
erubescunt.  Vidimus  quondam  quosdam  principes,  qui  vestes  diu 
excogitatas,  et  variis  florum  picturationibus  artificiose  elaboratas, 
pro  quibus  forsan  20  vel.  30  marcas  argenti  consumpserant,  vix  re- 
volutis  septem  diebus,  histrionibus,  ministris  diaboli,  ad  primam 
vocem  dedisse,  &c." 

The  curious  reader  may  find  a  similar,  though  at  the  same  time 
a  more  candid  account,  in  that  most  excellent  writer,  Presid. 
Fauchet  {Recueil  de  la-Lang.  Fr.  p.  73),  who  says,  that,  like  the 


*  The  minstrels  in  France  were  received  with  great  magnificence 
in  the  fourteenth  century.  "Froissart  describing  a  Christmas  enter- 
tainment given  by  the  Comte  de  Fpix,  tells  us,  that  "  there  were 
many  mynstrels,  as  well  of  hys  own,  as  of  straungers,  and  cache  of 
them  dyd  their  devoyre  in  their  faculties.  The  same  day  the  Erie 
of  Foix  gave  to  haraulds  and  minstrelles  the  som  of  fyve  hundred 
frankes  :  and  gave  to  the  Duke  of  Tourayns  mynstreles  gownes  of 
clothe  of  gold,  furred  with  ermyne,  valued  at  two  hundred  frankes." 
B.  iii.  c.  31.  Eng.  Trans.  Lond.  1525.  (Mr.  C.) 


FOREGOING    ESSAY.  389 

ancient  Greek  Aot^ot,  "  Nos  trouverres,  ainsi  que  ceux  la,  prenans 
leur  subject  sur  les  faits  des  vaillans  (qu'ils  appelloyent  geste, 
venant  de  gesta  Latin)  alloy ent  .  .  .  par  les  cours  rejouir  les 
princes  .  .  .  Remportans  des  grandes  recompences  des  seigneurs, 
qui  bien  souvent  leur  donnoyent  jusques  aux  robes  qu'ils  avoyent 
vestues  :  &  lesquelles  ces  jugleours  ne  failloyent  de  porter  aux 
autres  cours,  h.  fin  d'inviter  les  seigneurs  a  pareille  liberalite.  Ce 
qui  a  dure  si  longuement,  qu'il  me  souvient  avoir  veu  Martin 
Baraton  (ja  viel  menestrier  d'Orleans)  lequel  aux  festes  et  nopces 
batoit  un  tabourin  d'argent,  semd  des  plaques  aussi  d'argent  gravees 
des  armoiries  de  ceux  a  qui  il  avoit  appris  a  danser."  Here  we  see 
that  a  minstrel  sometimes  performed  the  function  of  a  dancing- 
master. 

Fontenelle  even  gives  us  to  understand,  that  these  men  were 
often  rewarded  \vith  favours  of  a  still  higher  kind.  "  Les  princesses 
&  les  plus  grandes  dames  y  joignoient  souvent  leurs  faveurs. 
Elles  etoient  fort  foibles  contreles  beaux  esprits."  [Hist.du  T/icat.) 
We  are  not  to  wonder  then  that  this  profession  should  be  followed 
by  men  of  the  first  quality,  particularly  the  younger  sons  and 
brothers  of  great  houses.  "  Tel  qui  par  les  partages  de  sa  famille 
n'avoit  que  la  moitie  ou  le  quart  d'une  vieux  chateaux  bien  seig- 
neurial,  alloit  quelque  temps  courir  le  monde  en  rimant,  et  revenoit 
acquerir  le  reste  de  Chateau.'  {Fontenelle,  Hist,  du  T/ieat.)  We 
see  then,  that  there  was  no  improbable  fiction  in  those  ancient 
songs  and  romances,  which  are  founded  on  the  story  of  minstrels 
being  beloved  by  kings'  daughters,  &c.,  and  discovering  themselves 
to  be  the  sons  of  some  sovereign  prince,  &c. 

(F)  The  honours  and  rewards  lavished  upon  the  minstrels  were 
not  confined  to  the  continent.  Our  own  countryman  Johannes 
Sarisburiensis  (in  the  time  of  Henry  H.)  declaims  no  less  than  the 
monks  abroad,  against  the  extravagant  favour  shown  to  these  men. 
Non  enim  more  nugatorum  ejus  seculi  in  histriones  &  mimos,  et 
hujusmodi  monstra  hominum,  ob  famae  redemptionem  &  dilata- 
tionem  nominis  cffunditis  opes  vestras,  &c.  {Epist.  247.*) 

The  monks  seem  to  grudge  every  act  of  munificence  that  was 
not  applied  to  the  benefit  of  themselves  and  their  convents.  They 
therefore  bestow  great  applauses  upon  the  Emperor  Henry,  who, 
at  his  marriage  with  Agnes  of  Poictou,  in  1044,  disappointed  the 
poor  minstrels,  and  sent  them  away  empty.  "  Infinitam  histrionum, 
&  joculatorum  multitudinem  sine  cibo  &  muneribus  vacuam 
&  m(i;rentem  abire  permisit."  {Chronic.  Virtziburg.)  For  which 
I  doubt  not  but  he  was  sufficiently  stigmatized  in  the  sougs  and 


Et  vid.  Policraticon,  cap.  8,  &c. 


390  NOTES    ON    THE 

ballads  of  those    times.      Vid.   Du    Cange,    Gloss,   torn,   iv,   p. 
771,  &c. 

(G)  The  annals  of  the  Afiglo-Saxons  are  scanty  and  defec- 
tive.'] Of  the  few  histories  now  remaining  that  were  written  be- 
fore the  Norman  Conquest,  almost  all  are  such  short  and  naked 
sketches  and  abridgements,  giving  only  a  concise  and  general  rela- 
tion of  the  more  remarkable  events,  that  scarce  any  of  the  minute 
circumstantial  particulars  are  to  be  found  in  them :  nor  do  they 
hardly  ever  descend  to  a  description  of  the  customs,  manners,  or 
domestic  economy  of  their  countrymen.  The  Saxon  Chronicle,  for 
instance,  which  is  the  best  of  them,  and  upon  some  accounts  ex- 
tremely valuable,  is  almost  such  an  epitome  as  Lucius  Florus  and 
Eutropius  have  left  us  of  the  Roman  history.  As  for  Ethelward, 
his  book  is  judged  to  be  an  imperfect  translation  of  the  Saxon 
Chronicle;*  and  the  Pseudo  Asser,  or  Chronicle  of  St.  Neot,  is  a 
poor  defective  performance.  How  absurd  would  it  be  then  to 
argue  against  the  existence  of  customs  or  facts,  from  the  silence  of 
such  scanty  records  as  these  !  Whoever  would  carry  his  researches 
deep  into  that  period  of  history,  might  safely  plead  the  excuse  of  a 
learned  writer,  who  had  particularly  studied  the  Ante-Norman  his- 
torians. "Conjecturis  (licet  nusquam  sine  verisimili  fundamento) 
aliquoties  indulgemus  .  .  .  utpote  ab  historicis  jejune  nimis  & 
indiligenter  res  nostras  tractantibus  coacti  .  .  .  Nostri  .  .  .  nuda 
factorum  commemoratione  plerumque  contenti,  reliqua  omnia,  sive 
ob  ipsarum  rerum,  sive  meliorum  literarum,  sive  historicorum  officii 
ignorantiam,  fere  intacta  pr^tereunt."  Vide  plura  in  Frcefat.  ad 
yElfr.  Vitayn  a  Spelttian.  Ox.  1678,  fol. 

(H)  Mi?istrels  and  harpers.']  That  the  harp  (cithard)  was 
the  common  musical  instrument  of  the  Anglo-Saxons,  might  be  in- 
ferred from  the  very  word  itself,  which  is  not  derived  from  the 
British,  or  any  other  Celtic  language,  but  of  genuine  Gothic  original, 
and  current  among  every  branch  of  that  people  :  viz.  Ang.-Sax. 
peajipe,  ^eappa;  Iceland,  harpa,  haurpa;  Dan.  and  Belg. 
harpe  ;  Germ,  harpffe,  harpfifa ;  Gal.  harpe ;  Span,  harpa ;  Ital. 
arpa.  (yid./un.  Etym.,  Menage  Etym.  &c.)  As  also  from  this,  that 
the  word  J>ea;ipe  is  constantly  used,  in  the  Anglo-Saxon  versions, 
to  express  the  Latin  words  cithara,  lyra,  and  even  cymbalum :  the 
vfoxd  psalmus  itself  being  sometimes  translated  peajip  j'anj,  harp 
song.  {Gloss,  Jim.  R.  apnd  Lye  Anglo-Sax.  Lexic.) 
/  But  the  fact  itself  is  positively  proved  by  the  express  testimony 
of  Bede,  who  tells  us  that  it  was  usual  at  festival  meetings  for  this 


*  Vid.  Nicolson's  E?ig.  Hist.  Lib.  &c. 


FOREGOING    ESSAY.  391 

instrument  to  be  handed  round,  and  each  of  the  company  to  sing 
to  it  in  his  turn.  See  his  Hist.  Ecdcs.  Anglor.  Hb.  iv.  c.  24,  where 
speaking  of  their  sacred  poet  CKdmon,  who  lived  in  the  times  of 
the  Heptarchy  {ob.  arc.  680)  he  says  : 

"  Nihil  unquam  frivoli  &  supervacui  poematis  facere  potuit ; 
sed  ea  tantummodo,  quK  ad  religionem  pertinent,  religiosam  ejus 
linguam  decebant.  Siquidem  in  habitu  sxculari,  usque  ad  tempora 
provectioris  aetatis  constitutus,  nil  carminum  aHquando  didicerat. 
Unde  nonnunquam  in  convivio,  cum  esset  la^titiai  causa  ut  omnes 
per  ordinem  cantare  deberent,  ille  ubi  appropinquare  sibi  citharam 
cemebat,  surgebat  a  media  coena,  et  egressus  ad  suam  domum 
repedabat." 

I  shall  now  subjoin  King  Alfred's  own  Anglo-Saxon  translation 
of  this  passage,  with  a  literal  interlineary  English  version. 

Pe  .  .  nspjie  noht  leaj-unja.  ne  ibelej'  leo'Sej'  pypcean  ne  mihre. 
Ife .  .  never  no  /casings,  nor  idle  songs  compose  ne  might ; 
ac  epne   ^a  an    Sa       "Se       ro   nepej-cnej'j-e    belumpon.       •] 

but  lo !  only    those  things  7uhich   to   religion  {^icty\     belong,      and 
hij-  ^a  a^pej'tan  runjan  jebapenobe  j-injan  :  jjajj*  he    j-e      man 
his  then   pious      tongue       became        to  sing :    He  was  the  [a]  man 
in     peojnolr-habe    jej-eteb  o'S  Sa  ribe  Se  he  paep  op 

in  worldly  [secular']  state  set  to  the  time  in  which  he  was  of  an 
jelypeojie  ylbe.  -3  he  naeppe  aeni5  leof  geleofinobe.  -]  he 
advanced  age;  and  he  never  any  song  learmd.  And  he 
pojijjon  opr  m  jebeoppcipe  Sonne  Soep  psep  bhppe  mrmja 
therefore  oft  in  an  entertainment  when  there  7vas  for  merriment 
jebemeb.  ■f      hi  ealle  pceolban  "Suph    enbeby- 

sake  adjudged  [or  decreed],  that  they  all      should  through      their 
fibneppe  be    heafipan  pmjan.   Sonne  he    jepeah   Sa   heafipan 

turns      by  [to  the]  harp  sing  ;  K'hen   he      sara       the     harp 
him  nealaecan.     Sonne  ajiap  he  pop  pceome  pfiam    Sam    pymle 
him  approach,        then    arose  he  FOR    shame  frotn       the     supper 

-]      ham  eobe  ro  hip  hupe. 

and  home  y ode    {luent]  to  his  house. 

Bed.  Hist.  Eccl.  a  Smith.  Cantab.  1722,  fol.  p.  597 

In  this  version  of  Alfred's  it  is  observable,  (i)  that  he  has  ex- 
pressed the  Latin  word  cantare,  by  the  Anglo-Saxon  words  *'  be 
heappan  pinjan,"  sing  to  the  harp  ;  as  if  they  were  synonymous,  or 


392  NOTES    ON    THE 

as  if  his  countrymen  had  no  idea  of  singing  unaccompanied  with 
the  harp  :  (2)  That  when  Bede  simply  says,  surgebat  a  media  coena, 
he  assigns  a  motive,  "  apaj'  poji  j-ceome,"  arose  for  shame  :  that 
is,  either  from  an  austerity  of  manners,  or  from  his  being  deficient 
in  an  accomplishment  which  so  generally  prevailed  among  his 
countrymen. 

(I)  The  word  glee  which  peculiarly  denoted  their  art,  &'c^ 
This  word  glee  is  derived  from  the  Anglo-Saxon  trligs,  (Gligg) 
musica,  music,  minstrelsy  (Somn).  This  is  the  common  radix, 
whence  arises  such  a  variety  of  terms  and  phrases  relating  to  the 
minstrel-art,  as  affords  the  strongest  internal  proof,  that  this  pro- 
fession was  extremely  common  and  popular  here  before  the  Nor- 
man Conquest.     Thus  we  have 

I. 

(i)  Elip  (Gliw.),  mimus,  a  minstrel. 

Iihjman,  ^ligmon,  jliman,  (glee-man*)  histrio,  mimus,  panto- 
mimus ;  all  common  names  in  middle  latinity  for  a  minstrel ;  and 
Somner  accordingly  renders  the  original  by  a  minstrel — a  player 
on  a  timbrel  or  taber.  He  adds,  a  fidler ;  but  although  the  fythel 
ox  fiddle,  was  an  ancient  instrument,  by  which  the  Jogelar  or  min- 


*  Gleeman  continued  to  be  the  name  given  to  a  minstrel  both 
in  England  and  Scotland  almost  as  long  as  this  order  of  men  con- 
tinued. 

In  De  Brunne's  metrical  version  of  Bishop  Grosthead's  Manuel 
de  Feche,  a.d.  1303  (see  Warton,  i.  61),  we  have  this, 

Gode  men,  ye  shall  lere 


When  ye  any  gleman  here." 

Fabyan  (in  his  Chronicle,  1533,  f.  32.)  translating  the  passage 
from  Geoffrey  of  Monmouth,  quoted  below  in  p.  397  note  (K) 
renders  Deus  Joailatomm,  by  God  of  Gleemen.  (Warton's  Hist. 
Eng.  Poet.  Diss,  i.)     Fabyan  died  in  1592. 

Dunbar,  who  lived  in  the  same  century,  describing  in  one  of  his 
poems,  intitled,  The  Daunce  what  passed  in  the  infernal  regions 
'*  amangis  the  Feyndis,"  says : 

"  Na  menstralls  playit  to  thame,  but  dowt. 
For  gle-men  thaire  wer  haldin  out. 

Be  day  and  eke  by  nycht." 

See  Poems  from  Bannatyne's  MS.  Edinb.  1770,  i2mo.  p.  30. 
Maitland's  MS.  at  Cambridge  reads  here  gleive-men. 


FOREGOING    ESSAY.  393 

strel  sometimes  accompanied  his  song  (see  Warton,  i.    17),  it  is 

probable  that  Somner  annexes  here  only  a  modem  sense  to  the 

word,  not  having  at  all  investigated  the  subject. 

Irhimen,    shismen,  (Glee-men),   histriones,    minstrels.     Hence, 
Ijlismanna-yppe.       Orchestra,  vel  pidpitus.     The  place  where 

the  minstrels  exhibited  their  performances. 

(2)  But  their  most  proper  and  expressive  name  was 
Chphleojjjiienb,  musicus,  a  minstrel ;  and 
lihphleojjjuenbhca,  musiais,  musical. 

These  two  words  include  the  full  idea  of  the  minstrel  character, 
expressing  at  once  their  music  and  singing,  being  compounded  of 
Clip,  musicus,  mimus,  a  musician,  minstrel;  and  LeoS,  carmen, 
a  song. 

(3)  From  the  above  word  diss,  the  profession  itself  was 
called. 

Dhjcp^pr  (glig  or  glee-craft),  musica,  histrionia,  mitnica 
gesticulatio :  which  Somner  rightly  gives  in  English,  ministrelsy, 
mimical  gesticulation,  mummery.  He  also  adds  stage-playing : 
but  here  again  I  think  he  substitutes  an  idea  too  modem,  induced 
by  the  word  histrionia,  which  in  middle  latinity  only  signifies  the 
minstrel-art. 

However,  it  should  seem  that  both  mimical  gesticulation  and  a 
kind  of  rude  exhibition  of  characters  were  sometimes  attempted  by 
the  old  minstrels  :  but 

(4)  As  musical  performance  was  the  leading  idea,  so 
Chopian,  is  Canius  musicos  edere;  and 

Dlijbeam,  jhpbeam  (glig  or  glee-beam),  tytnpanum ;  a  timbrel 
or  taber.     (So  Somn.)     Hence 

Clypan.     Tympatium  puisare  ;  and 

Dlip-meben  ;  jhypienbe-maben  ;  (glee-maiden),  tyfnpanistria  : 
which  Somner  renders  a  she-minstrel ;  for  it  should  seem  that  they 
had  females  of  this  profession  ;  one  name  for  which  was  also 
Elypbybenej-rpa. 

(5)  Of  congenial  derivation  to  the  foregoing  is 
Jjlypc.    (CAywc),  Tibia,  a  pipe  or  flute. 

Both  this  and  the  common  radix  Elij^  are  with  great  appear- 
ance of  truth  derived  by  Junius  from  the  Icelandic  Gliggur,y/a/«j; 
as  supposing  that  the  first  attemj>ts  at  music  among  our  Gothic  an- 
cestors were  with  wind-instruments.  Vid.  Jun.  Etym.  Ang.  v. 
Glee. 

II. 

But  the  minstrels,  as  is  hinted  above,  did  not  confine  themselves 
to  the  mere  exercise  of  their  primary  arts  of  music  and  song,  but 


L.- 


r 


394  NOTES    ON    THE 

occasionally  used  many  other  modes  of  diverting.  Hence,  from  the 
above  root  was  derived,  in  a  secondary  sense : 

(i)  Gleo,  and  pmj'um  -^i^,  facetia. 
ij\e:0])ia.n,  j'ocari ;  to  jest,  or,  be  merry  (Somn.),  and 
hlioyienb,  j'ocans ;  jesting,  speaking  merrily.  (Somn.) 
lilijman,  also  signified /(^^j/a,  a  jester. 

Hhg-gamen,  (glee-games), /(?;:/.  Which  Somner  renders,  merri- 
ments, or  merry  jests,  or  tricks,  or  sports,  gamboles. 

(2)  Hence,  again,  by  a  common  metonymy  of  the  cause  for  the 
effect : 

Irlie,  gaudiiim,  alacritas,  Icetitia,  faceticB ;  joy,  mirth,  gladness, 
cheerfulness,  glee.  (Somner.)  Which  last  application  of  the  word 
still  continues,  though  rather  in  a  low  debasing  sense. 

III. 

But  however  agreeable  and  delightful  the  various  arts  of  the 
minstrels  might  be  to  the  Anglo-Saxon  laity,  there  is  reason  to  be- 
lieve, that  before  the  Norman  Conquest,  at  least,  they  were  not 
much  favoured  by  the  clergy;  particularly  by  those  of  monastic 
profession.  For,  not  to  mention  that  the  sportive  talents  of  these 
men  would  be  considered  by  those  austere  ecclesiastics,  as  tending 
to  levity  and  licentiousness,  the  pagan  origin  of  their  art  would 
excite  in  the  monks  an  insuperable  prejudice  against  it.  The 
Anglo-Saxon  harpers  and  gleemen  were  the  immediate  successors 
and  imitators  of  the  Scandinavian  scalds,  who  were  the  great 
promoters  of  Pagan  superstition,  and  fomented  that  spirit  of 
cruelty  and  outrage  in  their  countrymen  the  Danes,  which  fell 
with  such  peculiar  severity  on  the  religious  and  their  convents. 
Hence  arose  a  third  application  of  words  derived  from  Irlijs, 
minstrelsy,  in  a  very  unfavourable  sense,  and  this  chiefly  prevails 
in  books  of  religion  and  ecclesiastic  discipline.    Thus  : 

(i)  dig  is  ludibrium,  laughing  to  scorn.*  So  in  S.  Basil. 
Regul.  II.  ^1  haspbon  him  to  jlije  halpenbe  mmegunje. 
ludibrio  hahebant  sahitarern  ejus  admonitiomn.  (10.)  This  sense  of 
the  word  was  perhaps  not  ill-founded,  for  as  the  sport  of  rude  un- 
cultivated minds  often  arises  from  ridicule,  it  is  not  improbable  but 
the  old  minstrels  often  indulged  a  vein  of  this  sort,  and  that  of  no 
very  delicate  kind.     So  again. 


*  To  gleek  is  used  in  Shakespeare  for   "  to  make   sport,  to 
jest,"  &c. 


FOREGOING    ESSAY.  395 

Dlij-man  was  also  used  to  signify  scurra,  a  saucy  jester  (Somn.) 
Dlij-jeorin,  dicax,  scurrilcs  jocos  supra   qiicim  par  est  amans. 
Officium  Episcopale,  3. 

Ijhpian.  Sairrilibus  oblectafnentis  indulgere;  satrram  agere.  Ca- 
non. Edgar.  58. 

(2)  Again,  as  the  various  attempts  to  please,  practised  by  an 
order  of  men  who  owed  their  support  to  the  public  favour,  might 
be  considered  by  those  grave  censors,  as  mean  and  debasing : 
Hence  came  from  the  same  root, 

Dlipep.  Parasitus,  assefitator;  a  fawner,  a  togger,  a  parasite,  a 
flatterer.*     (Somn.) 

IV. 

To  return  to  the  Anglo-Saxon  word  Ch^s :  notwithstanding 
the  various  secondary  senses  in  which  this  word  (as  we  have  seen 
above)  was  so  early  applied  ;  yet 

The  derivative  ^/(f^  (though  now  chiefly  used  to  express  merriment 
and  joy)  long  retained  its  first  simple  meaning,  and  is  even  appUed 
by  Chaucer  to  signify  music  and  minstrelsy.  (Vid.  Jun.  Etym.) 
Kg. 

"  For  though  that  the  best  harper  upon  live 
Would  on  the  best  sounid  jolly  harpe 
That  evir  was,  with  all  his  fingers  five 
Touch  aie  o  string,  or  aie  o  warble  harpe 
Were  his  nailes  pointed  nevir  so  sharpe 
It  shoulde  makin  every  wight  to  dull 
To  heare  isg/ee,  and  of  his  strokes  full." 

Troy/.  L.  ii. 

Junius  interprets  glees  by  musica  instrumenia,  in  the  following 
passages  of  Chaucer's  third  boke  of  Fame  : — 


*  The  preceding  hst  of  Anglo-Saxon  words,  so  full  and  copious 
beyond  any  thing  that  ever  yet  appeared  in  print  on  this  subject, 
was  extracted  from  Mr.  Lye's  curious  Anglo-Saxon  Lexicon,  in 
MS.  but  the  arrangement  here  is  the  Editor's  own.  It  had  how- 
ever received  the  sanction  of  Mr.  Lye's  approbation,  and  would 
doubtless  have  been  received  into  his  printed  copy,  had  he  lived 
to  publish  it  himself 

it  should  also  be  observed,  for  the  sake  of  future  researches,^ 
that  without  the  assistance  of  the  old  English  interi)retations  given 
by  Somner,  in  his  Anglo-Saxon  Dictionary,  the  J^ditor  of  the  book 
never  could  have  discovered  \.\\di\.  glee  signified  minstrelsy,  or  glig 
man  a  minstrel. 


396  NOTES    ON    THE 

"  .  .  Stoden  .  .  the  castell  all  aboutin 
Of  all  maner  of  tnynstrales 
Kn^jestours  that  tellen  tales 
Both  of  wepyng  and  of  game, 
And  of  all  that  longeth  unto  fame  : 
There  herde  I  play  on  a  harpe 
That  sowned  both  well  and  sharpe 
Hym  Orpheus  full  craftily ; 
And  on  this  syde  fast  by 
Sate  the  harper  Orion ; 
And  Eacides  Chirion ; 
And  other  harpers  many  one, 
And  the  Briton  Glaskyrion." 

After  menti  oning  these,  the  great  masters  of  the  art,  he  proceeds  : — 

"  And  small  harpers  with  her  glees 
Sat  under  them  in  divers  sees.'' 

***** 

Again,  a  little  below,  the  poet  having  enumerated  the  performers 
on  all  the  different  sorts  of  instruments,  adds  : — 

"  There  sawe  I  syt  in  other  sees 
Playing  upon  other  sundry  glees, 
Which  that  I  cannot  neven  * 
More  than  starres  ben  in  heven,"  &c. 

Upon  the  above  lines  I  shall  only  make  a  few  observations  : 

(i)  That  by  jestours,  I  suppose  we  are  to  understand  gestours ; 
scil.  the  relaters  of  gests  (Lat.  gestd)  or  stories  of  adventures  both 
comic  and  tragical ;  whether  true  or  feigned ;  I  am  inclined  to  add, 
whether  in  prose  or  verse.  (Compare  the  record  below,  in  marginal 
note,  subjoined  to  v.  2.)  Of  the  stories  in  prose,  I  conceive  we 
have  specimens  in  that  singular  book  the  Gesta  Romanoriim,  and 
this  will  account  for  its  seemingly  improper  title.  These  were 
evidently  what  the  French  called  conteours,  or  story-tellers,  and  to 
them  we  are  probably  indebted  for  the  first  prose  romances  of 
chivalry,  which  may  be  considered  as  specimens  of  their  manner. 

(2)  That  the  "  Briton  Glaskeryon,"  whoever  he  was,  is  apparently 
the  same  person  with  our  famous  harper  Glasgerion,  of  whom  the 


*  Neven,  i.e.  name. 


FOREGOING    ESSAY.  397 

reader  will  find  a  tragical  ballad,  ia  vol.  iii.  book  i,  No.  7.  In 
that  song  may  be  seen  an  instance  of  what  was  advanced  above  in 
note  (E)  of  the  dignity  of  the  minstrel  profession,  or  at  least  of 
the  artifice  with  which  the  minstrels  endeavoured  to  set  off  its  im- 
portance. 

Thus  '•  a  king's  son  is  represented  as  appearing  in  the  character 
of  a  harper  or  minstrel  in  the  court  of  another  king.  He  wears  a 
collar  (or  gold  chain)  as  a  person  of  illustrious  rank  ;  rides  on 
horseback,  and  is  admitted  to  the  embraces  of  a  king's  daughter." 

The  minstrels  lost  no  opportunity  of  doing  honour  to  their  art. 

(3)  As  for  the  word  glees,  it  is  to  this  day  used  in  a  musical 
sense,  and  applied  to  a  peculiar  piece  of  composition.  Who  has 
not  seen  the  advertisements,  proposing  a  reward  to  him  who  should 
produce  the  best  catch,  canon,  or  glee  ? 

(K)  Comes  from  the  pen  of  Geoffrey  of  Monmouth.']  Geof- 
frey's own  words  are  :  "  Cum  ergo  alterius  modi  aditum  [Baldul- 
phus]  non  haberet,  rasit  capillos  suos  et  barbam,*  cultumque 
joculatoris  cum  cythara  fecit.  Deinde  intra  castra  deambulans, 
modulis  quos  in  lyra  componebat,  sese  cytharistam  exhibebat." 
Galf  Monum.Hist.  4to.  1508,  lib.  vii.  c.  i. — That><r«/d!/«7r  signifies 
precisely  a  minstrel,  appears  not  only  from  this  passage,  where  it 
is  used  as  a  word  of  like  import  to  eitharista  or  harper  (which  was 
the  old  English  word  for  minstrel),  but  also  from  another  passage 
of  the  same  author,  where  it  is  applied  as  equivalent  to  cantor. 
See  lib.  i.  cap.  22,  where,  speaking  of  an  ancient  (perhaps  fabulous) 


*  Geoffrey  of  Monmouth  is  probably  here  describing  the  appear- 
ance of  the  foculatores  or  minstrels,  as  it  was  in  his  own  time. 
For  they  apparently  derived  this  part  of  their  dress,  &c.  from  the 
mimi  of  the  ancient  Romans,  who  had  their  heads  and  beards 
shaven  (see  above  p.  383  notef),  as  they  likewise  did  the  mimickry, 
and  other  arts  of  diverting,  which  they  superadded  to  the  compos- 
ing and  singing  to  the  harp  heroic  songs,  &c.  which  they  inherited 
from  their  own  progenitors  the  bards  and  scalds  of  the  ancient 
Celtic  and  Gothic  nations.  The  Longobardi  had,  like  other 
northern  people,  brought  these  with  them  into  Italy.  For  "  in  the 
year  774,  when  Charlemagne  entered  Italy  and  found  his  passage 
impeded,  he  was  met  by  a  minstrel  of  Lombardy,  whose  song  pro- 
mised him  success  and  victory.  Contigit  joculatorem  ^.v  Longo- 
bardorum  gente  ad  Carolum  venire,  et  cantiunculam  a  se  composi- 
tam,  rotando  in  conspectu  siiorum,  cantare.''  Tom.  ii.  j).  2.  Chron. 
Monast.  Noval.  lib.  iii.  cap.  x.  p.  717.  (T.  Warlon's  Hist.  vol.  ii. 
Emend,  of  vol.  i.  p.  113) 


398  NOTES    ON    THE 

British  king,  he  says  :  "  Hie  omnes  cantores  quos  praecedens  aetas 
habuerat  &  in  moduHs  &  in  omnibus  musicisinstrumentis  excedebat; 
ita  ut  Deus  Joculatorum  videretur."  Whatever  credit  is  due  to 
Geofifrey  as  a  relater  of  facts,  he  is  certainly  as  good  authority  as  any 
for  the  signification  of  words. 

(L)  Two  remarkable  facts.']  Both  these  facts  are  recorded 
by  William  of  Malmesbury ;  and  the  first  of  them,  relating  to 
Alfred,  by  Ingulphus  also.  Now  Ingulphus  (afterwards  abbot  of 
Croyland)  was  near  forty  years  of  age  at  the  time  of  the  Conquest,* 
and  consequently  was  as  proper  a  judge  of  the  Saxon  manners,  as 
if  he  had  actually  written  his  history  before  that  event :  he  is  there- 
fore to  be  considered  as  an  Anti-Norman  writer ;  so  that  whether 
the  fact  concerning  Alfred  be  true  or  not,  we  are  assured  from  his 
testimony,  that  \hQ  joculator  or  minstrel  was  a  common  character 
among  the  Anglo-Saxons.  The  same  also  may  be  inferred  from  the 
relation  of  William  of  Malmesbury,  who  outlived  Ingulphus  but 
thirty-three  years.f  Both  these  writers  had  doubtless  recourse  to 
innumerable  records  and  authentic  memorials  of  the  Anglo-Saxon 
times,  which  never  descended  down  to  us ;  their  testimony  there- 
fore is  too  positive  and  full  to  be  overturned  by  the  mere  silence 
of  the  two  or  three  slight  Anglo-Saxon  epitomes,  that  are  now 
remaining  (vid.  note  (G). 

As  for  Asser  Menevensis,  who  has  given  a  somewhat  more  parti- 
cular detail  of  Alfred's  actions,  and  yet  takes  no  notice  of  the  fol- 
lowing story ;  it  will  not  be  diflficult  to  account  for  his  silence,  if 
we  consider  that  he  was  a  rigid  monk,  and  that  the  minstrels,  how- 
ever acceptable  to  the  laity,  were  never  much  respected  by  men  of 
the  more  strict  monastic  profession,  especially  before  the  Norman 
Conquest,  when  they  would  be  considered  as  brethren  of  the  Pagan 
scalds. I  Asser  therefore  might  not  regard  Alfred's  skill  in  min- 
strelsy in  a  very  favourable  light ;  and  might  be  induced  to  drop 
the  circumstance  related  below,  as  reflecting  in  his  opinion  no 
great  honour  on  his  patron. 

The  learned  editor  of  Alfred's  life  in  Latin,  after  having  exa- 
mined the  scene  of  action  in  person,  and  weighed  all  the  circum- 
stances of  the  event,  determines  from  the  whole  collective  evidence, 
that  Alfred  could  never  have  gained  the  victory  he  did,  if  he  had 

*  Natiis,  1030;  scripsit,  1091  ;  obit,  1109.     Tanner. 

t  Obit,  Anno  1142.     Tanner. 

\  See  above,  p.  394.  Both  Ingulph.  and  Will,  of  Malmesb.  had 
been  very  conversant  among  the  Normans ;  who  appear  not  to 
have  had  such  prejudices  against  the  minstrels  as  the  Anglo-Saxons 
had. 


FOREGOING    ESSAY.  399 

not  with  his  ovii  eyes  previously  seen  the  disposition  of  the  enemy 
by  such  a  stratagem  as  is  here  described.  Vid.  An  not.  in  Ailfr. 
Mag.  VHam,  p.  n,  Oxon.  1678.  fol. 

(M)  Alfred assumed  the   dress   and  character   of  a 

minstrff].  Fingens  se  joculatorem,  assumpta  cithara,  c^-c.  In- 
gulphi  Hist.  p.  869. — Sub  specie  mimi  .  .  .  ut  joculatoriae  professor 
artis.  Gul.  Malmesb.  1.  2,  c.  4,  p.  43.  That  both  joculator  and 
mimus  signify  literally  a  minstrel,  see  proved  in  notes  B,  K,  N,  Q, 
&c.     See  also  note  G  g. 

Malmesbury  adds,  Unius  tantum  fidclissimi fruebatur  consciaitia. 
As  this  confidant  does  not  appear  to  have  assumed  the  disguise  of 
a  minstrel  himself,  I  conclude  that  he  only  appeared  as  the  minstrel's 
attendant.  Now  that  the  minstrel  had  sometimes  his  servant  or 
attendant  to  carr>'  his  harp,  and  even  to  sing  to  his  music,  we 
have  many  instances  in  the  old  metrical  romances,  and  even  some 
in  this  present  collection.  See  vol.  i.  song  vi.,  vol.  iii.  song  vii., 
&c.  Among  the  French  and  Provencal  bards,  the  trouverre,  or 
inventor,  was  generally  attended  with  his  singer,  who  sometimes 
also  played  on  the  harp,  or  other  musical  instrument.  "  Quelque 
fois  durant  le  repas  d'un  prince  on  voyoit  arriver  un  trouverre 
inconnu  avec  ses  menestrels  ou  jongleours^  et  il  leurfaisoit  chanter 
sur  leurs  harpes  ou  vielles  les  vers  qu'il  avoit  composes.  Ceux 
qui  faisoient  les  sons  aussi  bien  qui  les  7nots  etoient  les  plus 
estimds."     Fontenel/e,  Hist,  du  Theatr. 

That  Alfred  excelled  in  music  is  positively  asserted  by  Bale, 
who  doubtless  had  it  from  some  ancient  MS.  many  of  which  sub- 
sisted in  his  time,  that  are  now  lost ;  as  also  by  Sir  J.  Spelman, 
who  we  may  conclude  had  good  authority  for  this  anecdote,  as  he 
is  known  to  have  compiled  his  life  of  Alfred  from  authentic  materials 
collected  by  his  learned  father ;  this  writer  informs  us  that 
Alfred  "  provided  himself  of  musitians,  not  common,  or  such  as 
knew  but  the  practick  part,  but  men  skilful  in  the  art  itself,  whose 
skill  and  service  he  yet  further  improved  with  his  own  instruction." 
p.  199.  This  proves  Alfred  at  least  to  have  understood  the  theory 
of  music  \  and  how  could  this  have  been  acquired  without  practis- 
ing on  some  instrument?  Which,  we  have  seen  above,  note  (H), 
was  so  extremely  common  with  the  Anglo-Saxons,  even  in  much 
ruder  times,  that  Alfred  himself  plainly  tells  us,  it  was  shameful  to 
be  ignorant  of  it.  And  this  commonness  might  be  one  reason, 
why  Asser  did  not  think  it  of  consequence  enough  to  be  particularly 
mentioned  in  his  short  life  of  that  great  monarch.  This  rigid 
monk  may  also  have  esteemed  it  a  slight  and  frivolous  accomplish- 
ment savouring  only  of  worldly  vanity.  I  le  has  however  particularly 
recorded  Alfred's  fondness  for  the  oral  Anglo-.Saxon  poems  and 
songs.    {Saxonica  puematu  die  noctcque  .  .  .  audiens  .  .   .  memoritcr 


400  NOTES    ON    THE 

retinebat,  p.  i6.  Carmina  Saxonica  memoriter  discere,  &c.  p.  43,  and  ib^ 
Now  the  poems  learnt  by  rote,  among  all  ancient  unpolished 
nations,  are  ever  songs  chanted  by  the  reciter,  and  accompanied 
with  instrumental  melody.* 

(N)  With  his  harp  in  his  hand,  and  dressed  like  a  minstrel. 
Assumpta  manu  cithara  .  .  .  professus  mimum,  qui  hujusmodi  arte 
stipem  quotidianam  mercaretur  .  .  .  Jussus  abire  pretium  cantus 
accepit.  Malmesb.  1.  2,  c.  6.  We  see  here  that  which  was  rewarded 
was  (not  any  mimicry  or  tricks,  but)  his  singing  {cantus);  this  proves 
beyond  dispute,  what  was  the  nature  of  the  entertainment  Aulaff 
afforded  them.  Perhaps  it  is  needless  by  this  time  to  prove  to  the 
reader,  that  mimus  in  middle  latinity  signifies  a  minstrel,  and 
mimia,  minstrelsy,  or  the  minstrel-art.  Should  he  doubt  it,  let  him 
cast  his  eye  over  the  two  following  extracts  from  Du  Cange. 

"  Mimus :  Musicus  qui  instrumentis  musicis  canit.  Leges  Pa- 
latinae  Jacobi  II.  Reg.  Majoric.  In  domibus  principum,  ut  tradit 
antiquitas  mimi  seu  joculatores  licite  possunt  esse.  Nam  illorum 
officiam  tribuit  lutitiam  .  .  .  Quapropter  volumus  et  ordinamus, 
quod  in  nostra  curia  mimi  debeant  esse  quinque,  quorum  duo  sint 
tubicinatores,  et  tertius  sit  tabelerius  (i.  e.  a  player  on  the  tabor.)  f 

*  Thus  Leob,  the  Saxon  word  for  a  poem,  is  properly  a  song, 
and  its  derivative  lied  signifies  a  ballad  to  this  day  in  the  German 
tongue.  And  cantare  we  have  seen  above  is  by  Alfred  himself 
rendered,  Be  heajipan  f  msan. 

t  The  tabour  or  tabourin  was  a  common  instrument  with  the 
French  minstrels,  as  it  had  also  been  with  the  Anglo-Saxon  {vid. 
p.  393)  :  thus  in  an  ancient  Fr.  MS.  in  the  Harl.  collection  (2253, 
75),  a  minstrel  is  described  as  riding  on  horseback,  and  bearing 
his  tabour. 

"  Entour  son  col  porta  son  tabour, 
Depeynt  de  Or,  e  riche  Agour," 

See  also  a  passage  in  Menage's  Diction.  Etym.  (v.  inenestriers,') 
where  labours  is  used  as  synonymous  to  menestriers. 

Another  frequent  instrument  with  them  was  the  viele.  This,  I 
am  told,  is  the  name  of  an  instrument  at  this  day,  which  differs 
from  a  guitar,  in  that  the  player  turns  round  a  handle  at  the  top 
of  the  instrument,  and  with  his  other  hand,  plays  on  some  keys, 
that  touch  the  chords,  and  produce  the  sound. 

See  Dr.  Burney's  account  of  the  veille,  vol.  ii.  p.  263,  who  thinks 
it  the  same  with  the  rote  or  wheel.     See  p.  270  in  the  note. 

"  II  ot  un  Jougleor  a  Sens, 

Qui  navoit  pas  sovent  robe  entiere  ; 

Sovent  estoit  sans  sa  viekr — Fabliaux  6^  Cont.  ii.  184,  5. 


FOREGOING    ESSAY.  401 

Lit.  remiss,  ann.  1374.  Ad  mimos  comicitantes,  seu  bucinantes 
accesserunt." 

Mimia,  Ludus  Mimicus,  Instrumentum  (potius,  Ars  Joculatoria). 
Ann.  1482.  ..."  Mimia  <Sc  cantu  victum  acquire." 

Du  Cange,  Gloss,  tom.  iv.  1762.  Supp.  c.  1225. 

(O)  To  have  been  a  Danc^  The  northern  historians  pro- 
duce such  instances  of  the  great  respect  shewn  to  the  Danish 
scalds  in  the  courts  of  our  Anglo-Saxon  kings,  on  account  of  their 
musical  and  poetic  talents  (notwithstanding  they  were  of  so  hateful 
a  nation),  that,  if  a  similar  order  of  men  had  not  existed  here  before, 
we  cannot  doubt  but  the  profession  would  have  been  taken  up  by 
such  of  the  natives  as  had  a  genius  for  poetry  and  music. 

"  Extant  Rhythmi  hoc  ipso  (Islandico)  idiomate  Anglire,  Hyber- 
niaeque  Regibus  oblati  »&  HberaUter  compensati,  &c.  Itaque  hinc 
coUigi  potest  linguam  Danicam  in  aulis  vicinorum  regum,  princi- 
pumque  familiarem  fuisse,  non  secus  ac  hodie  in  aulis  principum 
peregrina  idiomata  in  deliciis  haberi  cernimus.  Imprimis  Vita 
Egilli  Skallagrimii  id  invicto  argumento  adstruit.  Quippe  qui  in- 
terrogatus  ab  Adalsteino,  Anglic  rege,  quomodo  manus  Eirici 
Blodoxii,  Northumbrioe  regis,  postquam  in  ejus  potestatem  venerat, 
evasisset,  cujus  filium  propinquosque  occiderat,  .  .  .  rei  statim 
ordinem  metro,  nunc  satis  obscuro,  exposuit,  nequaquam  ita  nar- 
raturus  non  intelligenti." — Vid.  phira  apud  Torfceii  Prccfat.  ad 
Oread.  Hist.  fol. 

This  .same  Egill  was  no  less  distinguished  for  his  valour  and  skill 
as  a  soldier,  than  for  his  poetic  and  singing  talents  as  a  scald ;  and 
he  was  such  a  favourite  with  our  king  Athelstan  that  he  at  one  time 
presented  him  with  "  duobus  annulis  &  scriniis  duobus  bene  mag- 
nis  argento  repletis.  .  .  .  Quinetiam  hoc  addidit,  ut  Egillus  quidvis 
praeterea  a  se  petens,  obtineret;  bona  mobilia,  sive  immobilia, 
praebendam  vel  prnefecturas.  Egillus  porro  regiam  munificentiam 
gratus  excipiens,  Carmen  Encomiasticon,  \  se,  lingua  Norvcgica, 
(quae  turn  his  regnis  communis),  compostum,  regi  dicat ;  ac  pro  eo, 
duas  Marcas  auri  puri  (pondus  Marcae  ...  8  uncias  aetjuabat) 
honorarii  loco  retulit.' — Arngr.  Jon.  Rcr.  Islandic.  lib.  2,  p.  129. 

See  more  of  Egill,  in  The  Five  Pieces  of  Runic  Poetry,  p.  45,  whose 
poem,  there  translated,  is  the  most  ancient  piece  all  in  rhime, 
that  is,  I  conceive,  now  to  be  found  in  any  European  language, 
except  I^tin.  See  Egill's  Islandic  original,  printed  at  the  end  of 
the  English  version  in  the  said  Five  Pieces,  &c. 

(!';  IJ  the  Saxons  had  not  been  accustomed  to  have  minstrels  of 
their  own  ....  and  to  shew  favour  and  respect  to  the  J)anish 
scalds.^  If  this  had  not  been  the  case,  we  may  be  assured,  at  least, 
that  the  stories  given  in  the  text  could  never  have  been  recorded 

D  D 


402  NOTES    ON    THE 

by  writers  who  lived  so  near  the  Anglo-Saxon  times  as  Malmesbury 
and  Ingulphus,  who,  though  they  might  be  deceived  as  to  particular 
facts,  could  not  be  so  as  to  the  general  manners  and  customs,  which 
prevailed  so  near  their  own  times  among  their  ancestors. 


(Q)  In  Doomesday  Book"  &'c.'\  Extract,  ex  Libro  Domesday: 
et  vid.  Anstis,  Ord.  Gart.  ii.  304. 

"  Glowecesterscire. 

Fol.  162.  col.  1.   Berdic  Jocidator  Regis  habet  iii.  villas,  et  ibi  v.  car. 

nil  r eddy 

IhzX  joculator  is  properly  a  minstrel  might  be  inferred  from  the 
two  foregoing  passages  of  Geoffery  of  Monmouth  (v.  Note  K.), 
where  the  word  is  used  as  equivalent  to  citharista  in  one  place, 
and  to  cantor  in  the  other :  this  union  forms  the  precise  idea  of 
the  character. 

But  more  positive  proofs  have  already  offered,  vid.  supra,  pp.  385, 
399.  See  also  p.  409  note  Du  Cange's  Gloss,  vol.  iii.  c.  1543  : 
"Jogulator  pro  Joculator. — Consilium  Masil.  an,  1381.  NuUus 
Ministreys,  seu  Jogulator,  audeat  pinsare  vel  sonare  instrumen- 
tum  cujuscumque  generis,"  &c.  &c. 

As  the  minstrel  was  termed  in  French  jongleur  and  jugleur ; 
so  he  was  called  in  Spanish  jutglar  and  juglar.  "  Tenemos  can- 
ciones  y  versos  para  recitar  muy  antiguos  y  memorias  ciertas  de  los 
Juglares,  que  assistian  en  los  banquetes,  como  los  que  pinta 
Homero." — Prolog,  a  las  Corned,  de  Cervantes,  1749,  4to. 

"  El  anno  1328,  en  las  siestas  de  la  Coronacion  del  Rey,  Don 
Alonso  el  IV.  de  Aragon,  ...  *  el  Juglar  Ramaset  canto  una 
Villanesca  de  la  Composicion  del  .  .  infante  (Don  Pedro)  :  y  otro 
Juglar,  llamado  Novellet,  recito  y  representb  en  voz  y  sin  cantar 
mas  de  600  versos,  que  hizo  el  Infante  en  el  metro,  que  Uamaban 
Rima  vulgar." — Ibid. 

"  Los  Trobadores  inventaron  la  Gaya  Ciencia  .  .  .  estos  Tro- 
badores,  eran  casi  todos  de  la  primera  Nobleza.  Es  verdad,  que 
ya  entonces  se  havian  entrometido  entre  las  diversiones  Cortesanos, 
los  Contadores,  los  Can  tores,  los  Juglares,  los  Truanes,  y  los 
Bufones."— /^/i/. 

In  England  the  king's  juglar  continued  to  have  an  estabhsh- 
ment  in  the  royal  household  down  to  the  reign  of  Henry  VIII.  (vid. 
Note  c  c).     But  in  what  sense  the  title  was  there  applied  does  not 


*  "  Romanset  Jutglar  canta  alt  veux  .  .  .  devant  lo  senyor  Rey." 
-Chron.  d' Aragon,  apud  Du  Cange,  iv.  771. 


FOREGOING    ESSAY.  403 

appear.  In  Barklay's  Egloges,  written  circ.  1 5 14,  jugglers  and  pipers 
are  mentioned  together.    Egl.  iv.  (vid.  T.  Warton's  Hist.  ii.  254). 

(R)  A  valliant  warrior,  named  Taillcfcr,  6^f.]  See  Du  Cange, 
who  produces  this  as  an  instance,  "  Quod  Ministellorum  munus  in- 
terduni  praestabant  miUtes  probatissimi.  Le  Roman  De  Vacce,  MS. 

"  '  Quant  il  virent  Normanz  venir 

Mout  veissiez  Engleiz  fremir.  .  .  . 

Taillefer  qui  mout  bien  chantoit, 

Sur  un  cheval,  qui  tost  alloit, 

Devant  euls  aloit  chantant 

De  Kallemaigne  &  de  RouUant, 

Et  d'  OUvier  de  Vassaux, 

Qui  mourruent  en  Rainschevaux.' 

"  Qui  quidem  Taillefer  a  Gulielmo  obtinuit  ut  primus  in  hostes  ir- 
rueret,  inter  quos  fortiter  dimicando  occubuit." — Gloss,  torn.  iv.  769, 
770,  771. 

"  Les  anciennes  chroniques  nous  apprennent,  qu'en  premier  rang 
de  I'Armde  Normande,  un  ecuyer  nommd  Taillefer,  monte  sur  un 
cheval  arme,  chanta  la  Chanson  De  Roland,  qui  fut  si  long  tems 
dans  les  bouches  des  Francois,  sans  qu'il  soit  rest^  le  moindre 
fragment.  Le  Taillefer  apres  avoir  entonne  le  chanson  que  les  sol- 
dats  repetoient,  se  jetta  le  premier  parmi  les  Anglois,  et  fut  tue." 
— Voltaire,  Add.  Hist.  Univ.  p.  69. 

The  reader  will  see  an  attempt  to  restore  the  Chanson  de  Roland, 
with  musical  notes,  in  Dr.  MnxnQy's  Hist.  ii.  p.  276.  See  more  con- 
cerning the  Song  of  Roland,  vol.  iii.  appendix,  sect.  ii.  note  M. 

(S)  An  eminent  French  writer,  &'c.'\  "  M.  I'Eveque  de  la 
Ravaliere,  qui  avoit  fait  beaucoup  de  recherches  sur  nos  anciennes 
Chansons,  pretend  que  c'est  ^  la  Normandie  que  nous  devons  nos 
premiers  Chansonnicrs,  non  i  la  Provence,  et  qu'il  y  avoit  parmi 
nous  des  Chansons  en  langue  vulgaire  avant  cclles  des  Provengaus, 
mais  posterieurement  au  Regne  de  Philippe  I.  ou  h.  I'an  11 00." — 
v.  Revolutions  de  la  Langue  Fran(oise,  a  la  suite  des  Poesies  du  Roi 
de  Navarre.  "  Ce  seroit  une  antcriorite  de  plus  d'un  demi  siccle  ii 
r<*poc}ue  des  premiers  Troubadours,  que  leur  historien  Jean  de 
Nostredame  fixe  k  I'an  1162,  &c." — Prcf.  a  rAntholoi:,ie  Franf. 
8vo.  1765. 

This  subject  hath  been  since  taken  up  and  prosecuted  at  length 
in  the  Prefaces,  &c.  to  M.  Le  (brand's  Fabliaux  ou  Contcs  du  XII. 
&*  du  XIII.  Siecle,  Paris,  1788,  5  tom.  12 mo.  who  .seems  pretty 
clearly  to  have  established  the  priority  and  sujjcrior  excellence  of 


404  NOTES    ON    THE 

the  old  rimeurs  of  the  north  of  France,  over  the  troubadours  of 
Provence,  &c. 

(S  2)  TTietr  own  native  gleemen  or  ftiinstrels  must  be  allowed 
to  exist.']  Of  this  we  have  proof  positive  in  the  old  metrical 
romance  of  Horn-Child,  (vol.  iii.  appendix),  which,  although 
from  the  mention  of  Sarazens,  &c.  it  must  have  been  written  at 
least  after  the  first  Crusade  in  1096,  yet  from  its  Anglo-Saxon  lan- 
guage or  idiom,  can  scarce  be  dated  later  than  within  a  century- 
after  the  Conquest.  This,  as  appears  from  its  very  exordium,  was 
intended  to  be  sung  to  a  popular  audience,  whether  it  was  com- 
posed by,  or  for,  a  gleeman,  or  minstrel.  But  it  carries  all  the  in- 
ternal marks  of  being  the  production  of  such  a  composer.  It  appears 
of  genuine  English  growth,  for  after  a  careful  examination,  I  cannot 
discover  any  allusion  to  French  or  Norman  customs,  manners,  com- 
position or  phraseology  :  no  quotation  "  As  the  Romance  sayth  :" 
not  a  name  or  local  reference  which  was  likely  to  occur  to  a  French 
rimeur.  The  proper  names  are  all  of  northern  extraction.  Child 
Horn  is  the  son  of  Allof  (/.  e.  Olaf  or  Olave),  king  of  Sudenne  (I 
suppose  Sweden),  by  his  queen  Godylde,  or  Godylt.  Athulf  and 
Fykenyld  are  the  names  of  subjects.  Eylmer  or  Aylmere  is  king 
of  Westnesse  (a  part  of  Ireland),  Rymenyld  is  his  daughter ;  as 
Erminyld  is  of  another  king  Thurstan  ;  whose  sons  are  Athyld  and 
Beryld.  Athelbrus  is  steward  of  K.  Aylmer,  &c.  &c.  All  these 
savour  only  of  a  northern  origin,  and  the  whole  piece  is  exactly 
such  a  performance  as  one  would  expect  from  a  gleeman  or  minstrel 
of  the  north  of  England,  who  had  derived  his  art  and  his  ideas 
from  his  scaldic  predecessors  there.  So  that  this  probably  is  the 
original,  from  which  was  translated  the  old  French  fragment  of 
Dan  Horn,  in  the  Harleyan  MS.  527,  mentioned  by  Tyrwhitt 
(Chaucer  iv.  68),  and  by  T.  Warton  (Hist.  i.  38),  whose  extract 
from  Horn-Child \^  extremely  incorrect. 

Compare  the  stile  of  Child-Horn  with  the  Anglo-Saxon  specimens 
in  short  verses  and  rhime,  which  are  assigned  to  the  century  suc- 
ceeding the  Conquest,  in  Hickes's  Thesaurus,  torn.  i.  cap.  24,  pp. 
224  and  231. 

(T)  The  different  production  of  the  sedentary  composer  and  the 
rambling  minstrel^  Among  the  old  metrical  romances,  a  very 
few  are  addressed  to  readers,  or  mention  reading :  these  appear  to 
have  been  composed  by  writers  at  their  desk,  and  exhibit  marks  of 
more  elaborate  structure  and  invention.  Such  is  Eglamour  of  Artas 
(No.  20,  vol.  iii.  appendix),  of  which  I  find  in  a  MS.  copy  in  the 
Cotton  Library,  A.  2,  folio  3,  the  11.  Fitte  thus  concludes  : 

" .  .  .  .  thus  ferr  have  I  red." 


FOREGOING    ESSAY,  405 

Such  is  Ipoynydon  (No.  23,  iii.  appendix),  of  which  one  of  the 
divisions  (Sign.  E.  ii.  b.  in  pr.  copy)  ends  thus  : 

"  Let  h)iii  go,  God  him  spede 

Tyll  efte-soone  we  of  him  reed  {i.e.  read)" 

So  in  Amys  and  Amylion*  (No.  31.  iii.  appendix)  in  sta.  3d. 
we  have 

"  In  Geste  as  we  rede," 

and  similar  phrases  occur  in  stanzas  34,  125,  140,  196,  &c. 

These  are  all  studied  compositions,  in  which  the  story  is  invented 
%\-ith  more  skill  and  ingenuity,  and  the  style  and  colouring  are  of 
superior  cast,  to  such  as  can  with  sufficient  probability  be  attributed 
to  the  minstrels  themselves. 

Of  this  class  I  conceive  the  romance  of  Horn  Child  (mentioned 
in  the  last  note,  S  2,  and  in  No.  i,  vol.  iii.  appendix),  which, 
from  the  naked  unadorned  simplicity  of  the  stor}^,  I  would  attribute 
to  such  an  origin. 

But  more  evidently  is  such  the  Squire  of  Lowe  Degree  (No.  24, 
iii.  appendix),  in  which  is  no  reference  to  any  French  original, 
nothing  like  the  phrase  which  so  frequently  occurs  in  others, 
"  As  the  Romance  sayth,"  t  or  the  like.    And  it  is  just  such  a  ram- 


*  It  ought  to  have  been  observed  in  its  proper  place  in  No.  31, 
vol.  iii.  appendix,  that  Amys  and  Amylion  were  no  otherwise 
"  Brothers  "  than  as  being  fast  friends:  as  was  suggested  by  the 
learned  Dr.  Samuel  Pegge,  who  was  so  obliging  as  to  favour  the 
essayist  formerly  with  a  curious  transcript  of  this  poem  accom- 
panied with  valuable  illustrations,  &c. :  and  that  it  was  his  opinion 
tliat  both  the  fragment  of  the  Lady  Bellcsent  mentioned  in  the 
same  No.  31,  and  also  the  mutilated  tale  No.  37,  were  only  im- 
perfect copies  of  the  above  romance  of  Amys  and  Amylion,  which 
contains  the  two  lines  quoted  in  No.  37. 

t  Whenever  the  word  Roma7ice  occurs  in  these  metrical  narra- 
tives, it  hath  been  thought  to  afford  decisive  proof  of  a  translation 
from  the  Romance,  or  French  language.  Accordingly  it  is  so  urged 
by  T.  Warton  (i.  146,  note),  from  two  passages  in  the  pr.  copy  of 
Sir  Eglamour,  viz.,  Sign.  E.  i. 

"  In  Romaunce  as  we  rede." 
Again  in  fol.  ult. 

"  In  Romaunce  this  cronycle  is." 

But  in  the  Cotton  MS.  of  the  original  the  first  passage  is : 

"As  I  herd  a  Gierke  rede." 


4o6  NOTES    ON    THE 

bling  performance,  as  one  would  expect  from  an  itinerant  bard. 
And 

Such  also  is  A  lytell  Geste  of  Robyn  Hode,  &'c.  in  eight  fyttes,  of 
which  are  extant  two  editions,  4to.  in  black  letter,  described  more 
fully  in  this  volume,  book  i.  No.  8.  This  is  not  only  of  undoubted 
EngUsh  growth,  but,  from  the  constant  satire  aimed  at  abbots  and 
their  convents,  &c.  could  not  possibly  have  been  composed  by 
any  monk  in  his  cell. 

Other  instances  might  be  produced  ;  but  especially  of  the  former 
kind  is  Syr  Launfal  (No.  ii,  iii.  appendix),  the  121st  st.  of 
which  has 

"  In  Romances  as  we  rede." 

This  is  one  of  the  best  invented  stories  of  that  kind,  and  I  believe 
the  only  one  in  which  is  inserted  the  name  of  the  author. 

(T  2)  Royer  or  Raherus,  the  kin^s  minstrel.  He  is  re- 
corded by  Leland  under  both  these  names,  in  his  Collectanea,  scil. 
vol.  i.  p.  61. 

"Hospitale  S.  Bartholomsei  in  West-Smithfelde  in  London." 
Royer  Mimus  Regis  fundator." 

"  Hosp.  Sti.  Barthol.  Londini.  Raherus  Mimus  Regis  H.  r.  pri- 
mus fundator,  an.  1102,  3.  H.  I.  qui  fundavit  etiam  Priorat.  Sti. 
Barthol." — Ibid.  p.  99. 

That  mimus  is  properly  a  minstrel  in  the  sense  affixed  to  the 
word  in  this  essay,  one  extract  from  the  accounts  (Lat.  computis) 
of  the  priory  of  Maxtock  near  Coventry,  in  1441,  will  sufficiently 
show,  scil. :  "  Dat.  Sex.  Mimis  Dni.  Clynton  cantantibus,  cithari- 
santibus,  ludentibus,  &c.  iiii.  s."  (T.  Warton,  ii.  106,  note  q.)  The 
same  year  the  prior  gave  to  a  doctor  prcedicans  for  a  sermon  preached 
to  them  only  dd. 

In  the  Monasticon,  tom.  ii.  p.  166,  167,  is  a  curious  history  of 
the  founder  of  this  priory,  and  the  cause  of  its  erection  :  which 
seems  exactly  such  a  composition  as  one  of  those  which  were 
manufactured  by  Dr.  Stone,  the  famous  legend-maker,  in  1380 ; 
(see  T.  Warton's  curious  account  of  him,  in  vol.  ii.  p.  190,  note), 
who  required  no  materials  to  assist  him  in  composing  his  narra- 

And  the  other  thus  : 

"  In  Rome  this  Gest  cronycled  ys." 

So  that  I  believe  references  to  "  the  Romaunce,"  or  the  like,  were 
often  meer  expletive  phrases  inserted  by  the  oral  reciters ;  one  of 
whom,  I  conceive,  had  altered  or  corrupted  the  old  Syr  Eglamour  in 
the  manner  that  the  copy  was  printed. 


FOREGOING    ESS  A  Y.  407 

tives,  &c.  For  in  this  legend  are  no  particulars  given  of  the 
founder,  but  a  recital  of  miraculous  visions  exciting  him  to  this 
pious  work,  of  its  having  been  before  revealed  to  K.  Edward  the 
Confessor,  and  predicted  by  three  Grecians,  (Sec.  Even  his  minstrel 
profession  is  not  mentioned,  whether  from  ignorance  or  design,  as 
the  profession  was  perhaps  faUing  into  discredit  when  this  legend 
was  written.  There  is  only  a  general  indistinct  account  that  he 
frequented  royal  and  noble  houses,  where  he  ingratiated  himself 
siiavitate  joculari.  (This  last  is  the  only  word  that  seems  to  have 
any  appropriated  meaning.)  This  will  account  for  the  indistinct,  in- 
coherent account  given  by  Stow :  "  Rahere,  a  pleasant-witted 
gentleman,  and  therefore  in  his  time  called  the  King's  Minstrel." 
— Survey  of  Lond.  ed.  159S,  p.  308. 

(U)  ///  the  tarly  times  rcery  harper  loas  expected  to  sing.'] 
See  on  this  subject  K.  Alfred's  version  of  Cosdman,  above  in  note 
(H)  p.  391. 

So  in  Horn-Child,  K.  Allof  orders  his  steward  Athelbrus  to 

" — teche  him  of  harpe  and  of  song." 
In  the  Squire  of  Lowe  Degree  the  king  offers  to  his  daughter, 
"Ye  shall  have  harpe,  sautry,*  and  song." 

And  Chaucer,  in  his  description  of  the  limitour  or  mendicant 
friar,  speaks  of  harping  as  inseparable  from  singing  (i.  p.  11,  ver. 
268):— 

"  — in  his  harping,  whan  that  he  hadde  songe." 

(U  2)  At  the  most  accomplished,  e^^.J  See  Hoveden,  p.  103, 
in  the  following  passage,  which  had  erroneously  been  applied 
to  K.  Richard  him.self,  till  Mr.  Tyrwhitt  ("Chaucer,"  iv.  p.  62) 
shewed  it  to  belong  to  his  Chancellor  :  "  Hie  ad  augmentum  et 
famam  sui  nominis,  emendicata  carmina,  et  rhythmos  adulatorios 
comparabat  ;  ct  de  regno  Francorum  Cantores  et  Joculatores  mu- 
neribus  allexerat,  ut  de  illo  canerent  in  plateis :  et  jam  dicebatur 
ubique,  ([uod  non  erat  talis  in  orbe."  For  other  particulars  relat- 
ing to  this  chancellor,  see  T.  Warton's  Hist.  vol.  ii.  addit.  to  p.  1 13 
of  vol.  i. 


*  The  harp  (Lat.  cithara)  differed  from  the  sautry,  or  psaltry 
{L:i\..  psalierium)  in  that  the  former  was  a  stringctl  instrument,  anil 
the  latter  was  mounted  with  wire :  there  was  also  some  ilillerencc 
in  the  construction  of  the  bellies,  ike.  See  Bartholomteus  de pro- 
prietatibus  rerum,  as  Englished  by  Trevisa  and  Batman,  ed.  1584, 
in  Sir  J.  Hawkins's  Hist.  ii.  ]).  285. 


4o8  NOTES    ON    THE 

(U  3)  Both  the  JVonnan  and  English  languages  would  be 
heard  at  the  houses  of  the  great.']  A  remarkable  proof  of  this  is 
that  the  most  dihgent  inquirers  after  ancient  English  rhimes  find 
the  earliest  they  can  discover  in  the  mouths  of  the  Norman  nobles, 
such  as  that  of  Robert,  Earl  of  Leicester,  and  his  Flemings  in  11 73, 
temp.  Hen.  II.  (little  more  than  a  century  after  the  Conquest),  re- 
corded by  Lambarde  in  his  Dictionary  of  England,  P-  36  : 

"  Hoppe  Wyliken,  hoppe  Wyliken 
Ingland  is  thine  and  myne,"  &c. 

and  that  noted  boast  of  Hugh  Bigot,  Earl  of  Norfolk,  in  the  same 
reign  of  K.  Henry  II.  vid.  Camdeni  Britannia  (art.  Suffolk),  1607, 
folio 

"  Were  I  in  my  castle  of  Bungey 

Vpon  the  riuer  of  Waueney 

I  would  ne  care  for  the  king  of  Cockeney." 

Indeed,  many  of  our  old  metrical  romances,  whether  originally 
English,  or  translated  from  the  French  to  be  sung  to  an  English 
audience,  are  addressed  to  persons  of  high  rank,  as  appears  from 
their  beginning  thus  :  "  Listen,  Lordings,"  and  the  like.  These 
were  prior  to  the  time  of  Chaucer,  as  appears  from  vol.  iii.  appen- 
dix (sect.  ii.).  And  yet  to  his  time  our  Norman  nobles  are  supposed 
to  have  adhered  to  their  French  language. 

(V)  That  intercommunity,  &=€.  between  the  French  and  English 
Minstrels,  ^c]  This  might,  perhaps,  in  a  great  measure  be  re- 
referred  even  to  the  Norman  Conquest,  when  the  victors  brought 
with  them  all  their  original  opinions  and  fables  ;  which  could  not 
fail  to  be  adopted  by  the  English  minstrels  and  others  who  soli- 
cited their  favour.  This  interchange,  &c.  between  the  minstrels  ot 
the  two  nations  would  be  afterwards  promoted  by  the  great  inter- 
course produced  among  all  the  nations  of  Christendom  in  the 
general  crusades,  and  by  that  spirit  of  chivalry  which  led  knights, 
and  their  attendants  the  heralds,  and  minstrels,  &c.  to  ramble  about 
continually  from  one  court  to  another  in  order  to  be  present  at 
solemn  tuniaments,  and  other  feats  of  amis. 

(V  2)  Is  not  the  only  instaitce,  6^^.]  The  constant  admission 
granted  to  minstrels  was  so  established  a  privilege,  that  it  be- 
came a  ready  expedient  to  writers  of  fiction.  Thus,  in  the  old 
romance  of  Horn-Child,  the  Princess  Rymenyld  being  confined  in 
an  inaccessible  castle,  the  prince,  her  lover,  and  some  assistant 
knights  with  concealed  arms  assume  the  minstrel  character,  and 
approaching  the  castle  with  their  "  gleyinge  "  or  minstrelsy,  are 


FOREGOING    ESSAY.  409 

heard  by  the  lord  of  it,  who  being  informed  they  were  "  harpeirs, 
jogelers,  and  fythelers,"  *  has  them  admitted,  when 

"  Horn  sette  him  abenche  {i.e.  on  a  bench). 
Is  {i.e.  his)  harpe  he  gan  clenche 
He  made  Rymenild  a  lay." 

This  sets  the  princess  a  weeping  and  leads  to  the  catastrophe,  for 
he  immediately  advances  to  "  the  Borde  "  or  table,  kills  the  ravisher, 
and  releases  the  lady. 

(\^  3)  .  •  •  Assumed  t/ie  dress  and  character  of  a  harper,  o^r.] 
We  have  this  curious  historietie  in  the  records  of  Lacock  Nunnery 
in  Wiltshire,  which  had  been  founded  by  this  Countess  of  Salisbury. 
See  Vincent's  Z>/!>YW<77  of  Errors  in  Brooke  s  Catalogue  of  Nobility, 
&c.  folio,  pp.  445-6,  (Sec.  Take  the  following  extract,  and  see  Dug- 
dale's  Baron,  i.  p.  175. 

"  Ela  uxor  Gullielmi  Longespee  primi,  nata  fuit  apud  Ambresbi- 
riam,  patre  et  matre  Normannis. 

"  Pater  itaque  ejus  defectus  senio  migravit  ad  Christum,  a.d.  i  196. 

Mater  ejus  ante  biennium  obiit Interea  Domina  charissima 

clam  per  cognatos  adducta  fuit  in  Normanniani,  &  ibidem  sub 
tuta  et  arcta  custodia  nutrita.  Eodem  tempore  in  Anglia  fuit  qui- 
dam  miles  nomine  Gulielmus  Talbot,  qui  induit  se  habitum  Pere- 
grini  {Anglice,  a  Pilgrim)  in  Normanniani  transfretavit  &  moratus 
per  duos  annos,  hue  atque  illuc  vagans,  ad  explorandam  dominam 
Elam  Sarum.  Et  ilia  inventa,  exuit  habitum  Peregrini,  &  induit 
se  quasi  Cytharisator  &  curiam  ubi  morabatur  intravit.  Et  ut 
erat  homo  Jocosus,  in  Gestis  Antiquorum  valde  peritus,  ibidem 


*  Jogeler  (Lat.  Joculator)  was  a  very  ancient  name  for  a  min- 
strel. Of  what  nature  the  performance  of  the  joculator  was,  we 
may  learn  from  the  register  of  St.  Swithin's  Priory  at  Winchester 
(T.  Warton,  i.  69)  :  "  Et  cantabat  Joculator  quidam  nomine  Here- 
bertus  Canticum  Colbrondi,  necnon  Gestum  Emme  regine  a  judicio 
ignis  liberate,  in  aula  Prioris."  His  instrument  was  sometimes  the 
fythele,  or  fiddle,  Lat.  fidicula :  which  occurs  in  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  lexicon.  On  this  subject  we  have  a  curious  passage  from  a 
MS.  of  the  LiTCS  of  the  Saints  in  metre,  sujjposed  to  be  earlier  than 
the  year  1200  (T.  Warton's  Hist.  i.  \).  17),  viz. : 

'•  Christofre  him  served  longe 
The  kynge  loved  melodye  much  of  fithele  and  of  songe  : 
So  that  his  Jogeler  on  a  day  beforcn  liini  gon  to  pleye  fasle, 
And  in  a  tyme  he  nemped  in  his  song  the  devil  at  laste." 


4IO  NOTES    ON    THE 

gratanter  fuit  acceptus  quasi  familiaris.  Et  quando  tempus  aptum 
invenit,  in  Angliam  repatriavit,  habens  secum  istam  venerabilem 
dominam  Elam  &  hseredem  Comitatus  Sarum;  &  earn  Regi 
Richardo  praesentavit.  Ac  ille  laetissime  earn  suscepit,  &  Fratri 
suo  Guillelmo  Longespee  maritavit  .... 

A.D.  1226  Dominus  Guill.  Longespee  primus  nonas  Martii  obiit. 
Ela  vero  uxor  ejus  7  annis  supervixit  ....  Una  die  Duo 
monasteria  fundavit  primo  mane  xvi  Kal.  Maii.  a.d.  1232.  apud 
Lacock,  in  quo  sanctse  degunt  Canonissas  .  .  .  Et  Henton  post 
nonam,  anno  vero  aetatis  suae,  xlv.  &c." 

(W)  For  the  preceding  account  Dugdale  refers  to  Monast.  Angl. 
i.  (r.  ii.)  p.  185,  but  gives  it  as  enlarged  by  D.  Powel,  in  his  Hist. 
of  Cambria,  p.  196,  who  is  known  to  have  followed  ancient  Welsh 
MSS.  The  words  in  the  Monasticon  are  :  "  Qui  accersitis  Sutoribus 
Cestrije  et  Histrionibus,  festinanter  cum  exercitu  suo  venit  domino 
suo  facere  succursum.    Walenses  vero  videntes  multitudinem  mag- 

nam  venientem,  relicta  obsidione  fugerunt Et  propter  hoc 

dedit  comes  antedictus  ....  Constabulario  dominationem  Suto- 
rum  et  Histrionum.  Constabularius  vero  retinuit  sibi  et  haeredi- 
bus  suis  dominationem  Sutorum :  et  Histrionum  dedit  vero  Sene- 
schallo."  So  the  passage  should  apparently  be  pointed;  but  either 
et  or  vero  seems  redundant. 

We  shall  see  below  in  note  (Z)  the  proper  import  of  the  word 
htstrwnes  ;  but  it  is  very  remarkable  that  this  is  not  the  word  used 
in  the  grant  of  the  constable  De  Lacy  to  Button,  but  "  magisterium 
omnium  leccatorum  tX.  meretricium  totius  Cestreshire,  sicut  liberius 
ilium  {sic)  magisterium  teneo  de  comite"  {vid.  Blount's  Ancient  Ten- 
ures, p.  156).  Now,  as  under  this  grant  the  heirs  of  Button  con- 
fessedly held  for  many  ages  a  magisterial  jurisdiction  over  all 
the  minstrels  and  musicians  of  that  county,  and  as  it  could  not 
be  conveyed  by  the  word  meretrices,  the  natural  inference  is,  that 
the  minstrels  were  expressed  by  the  term  leccatores.  It  is  true,  Bu 
Cange  compiling  his  Glossary  could  only  find  in  the  writers  he 
consulted  this  word  used  in  the  abusive  sense,  often  applied  to 
every  synonyme  of  the  sportive  and  dissolute  minstrel,  viz.  Sciirra, 
vaniloquus,  parasitus,  epido,  &c.  (This  I  conceive  to  be  the 
proper  arrangement  of  these  explanations,  which  only  express  the 
character  given  to  the  minstrel  elsewhere :  see  Bu  Cange,  passim, 
and  notes,  C.  E.  F.  L  iii.  2,  &c.)  But  he  quotes  an  ancient  MS. 
in  French  metre,  wherein  the  leccour  (Lat.  ieccator)  and  the 
minstrel  are  joined  together,  as  receiving  from  Charlemagne  a 
grant  of  the  territory  of  Provence,  and  from  whom  the  Provencal 
troubadours  were  derived,  &c.     See  the  passage  above  in  note  C. 

P-  387- 

The  exception  in  favour  of  the  family  of  Button  is  thus   ex- 


FOREGOING    ESSAY.  411 

pressedin  the  statute,  Anno  39,  YX\z.  chap.  iv.  entitled,  "  An  Act 
for  punshment  of  Rogues,  Vagabonds,  and  Sturdy  Beggars." 

"  §  I .  .  .  .  All  fencers,  bearwards,  common  players  of  enter- 
ludes,  aid  minstrels,  wandering  abroad  (other  than  players  of 
enterluces  belonging  to  any  baron  of  this  realm,  or  any  other 
honounole  personage  of  greater  degree,  to  be  authorised  to  play 
under  tie  hand  and  seal  of  arms  of  such  baron  or  personage)  :  all 
juglers,  inkers,  pedlers,  &c.  .  .  .  shall  be  adjudged  and  deemed 
rogues,  agabonds,  and  sturdy  beggars,  &c. 

"  §  X  Provided  always  that  this  act,  or  any  thing  therein  con- 
tained, a  any  authority  thereby  given,  shall  not  in  any  wise  extend 
to  disinherit,  prejudice,  or  hinder  John  Dutton  of  Dutton,  in  the 
county  d"  Chester,  Esquire,  his  heirs  or  assigns,  for,  touching  or 
concemhg  any  liberty,  preheminence,  authority,  jurisdiction,  or 
inheritarre,  which  the  said  John  Dutton  now  lawfully  useth,  or 
hath,  or  lawfully  may  or  ought  to  use  within  the  county-palatine 
of  Chestr,  and  the  county  of  the  city  of  Chester,  or  either  of 
them,  by  reason  of  any  ancient  charters  of  any  kings  of  this  land, 
or  by  rea:on  of  any  prescription,  usage,  or  title  whatsoever." 

The  sane  clauses  are  renewed  in  the  last  act  on  this  subject, 
passed  in  he  present  reign  of  George  III. 

(X)  Eiward  I.  ....  at  the  knighting  of  his  son,  &'c.']  See 
Nic.  Trirdi  Anna/cs,  Oxon.  1719,  8vo.  p.  342. 

"  In  fesb  Pentecostes  Rex  filium  suum  armis  militaribus  cinxit, 
(S:  cum  ec  Comites  Warenniae  &  Arundeliae,  aliosque,  quorum 
numerus  cucentos  &  quadraginta  dicitur  excessisse.  Eodem  die 
cum  sedissit  Rex  in  mensa,  novis  militibus  circumdatus,  ingressa 
MinistreHo-um  Multitudo,  portantium  multiphci  omatu  amictum, 
ut  milites  pra^cipue  novos  invitarent,  &  inducerent,  ad  vovcndum 
factum  arniDrum  aliquod  coram  signo." 

(Y)  By  in  express  regulation,  6-v.]  See  in  Heame's  Append/, 
ad  Lelandi  Zollcctari.  vol.  vi.  p.  36.  "  A  Dietarie,  Writtes  published 
after  the  OrJinance  of  Earles  and  Barons,  Anno  Dom.  13 15." 

*'  Edwaro  by  the  grace  of  God,  (ic.  to  sheriffes,  6i:c.,  greetyng. 
Forasmuch  is  .  .  .  many  idle  persons,  under  colour  of  mynstrelsie, 
and  going  w  messages,  and  other  faigned  busines,  have  ben  and 
yet  be  receai^ed  in  other  mens  houses  to  meate  and  drynke,  and  be 
not  therwith contented  yf  they  be  not  largely  consydered  with  gyftes 
of  the  Lordei  of  the  houses,  &c.  .  .  .  We  wyllyng  to  restrayne  .such 
outrageous  tnterpriscs  and  idlencs,  &c.  have  ordeyned  .  .  .  that 
to  the  house;  of  prelates,  earles,  and  barons,  none  resort  to  meate 
and  drynke,  unless  he  be  a  mynstrel,  and  of  these  minstrels  that 
there  come  none  except  it  be  three  or  four  minstrels  ol  honour  at 
the  most  in  one  day,  unlesse  he  be  desired  of  the  Lorde  of  the 


412  NOTES    ON    THE 

house.  And  to  the  houses  of  meaner  men  that  none  comeunlesse 
he  be  desired,  and  that  such  as  shall  come  so,  holde  thenselves 
contented  with  meate  and  drynke,  and  with  such  curtesE  as  the 
maister  of  the  house  wyl  shewe  unto  them  of  his  owne  gcod  wyll, 
without  their  askyng  of  any  thyng.  And  yf  any  one  doagaynst 
this  ordinaunce,  at  the  firste  tyme  he  to  lose  his  minstresie,  and 
at  the  second  tyme  to  forsweare  his  craft,  and  neve  to  be 
receaved  for  a  minstrell  in  any  house  .  .  .  Yeven  at  Laigley  the 
vi.  day  of  August,  in  the  ix  yere  of  our  reigne." 

These  abuses  arose  again  to  as  great  a  height  as  evei  in  little 
more  than  a  century  after ;  in  consequence,  I  suppost,  of  the 
licentiousness  that  crept  in  during  the  civil  wars  of  York  md  Lan- 
caster. This  appears  from  the  charter,  9  E.  IV.  referred  to  in  p. 
xlv.  "  Ex  querulosa  insinuatione  .  .  .  Ministrallorum  rostrorum 
accepimus  qualiter  nonnuUi  rudes  agricolse  &  artifices  dversarum 
misterarum  regni  nostri  Angliae,  finxerunt  se  fore  ministrdlos,  quo- 
rum aliqui  liberatam  nostram  eis  minime  datam  portarert,  seipsos 
etiam  fingentes  esse  minstrallos  nostros  proprios,  cujiB  quidem 
liberatas  ac  dictee  artis  sive  occupationis  ministrallorum  ;olore,  in 
diversis  partibus  regni  nostri  prsedicti  grandes  pecunia^um  exac- 
tiones  de  ligeis  nostris  deceptive  coUigunt,  &c." 

Abuses  of  this  kind  prevailed  much  later  in  Wales,  is  appears 
from  the  famous  commission  issued  out  in  9  Eliz.  (1567)  for  be- 
stowing the  silver  harp  on  the  best  minstrel,  rythmer,  ir  bard,  in 
the  principality  of  North  Wales :  of  which  a  fuller  accomt  will  be 
given  below  in  note  (b  b  3). 


(Z)  //  is  thus  related  by  Stow.]  See  his  Survey  )f  London, 
&c.  fol.  1633,  p.  521  (Ace.  of  Westm.  Hall).  Stow  had  this  pass- 
age from  Walsingham's  Hist.  A/fg.  ..."  Intravit  quaadam  mulier 
ornata  histrionali  habitu,  equum  bonum  insidens  listrionaliter 
phaleratum,  quae  mensas  more  histrionum  circuivit;  &  tandem 
ad  Regis  mensam  per  gradus  ascendit,  &  quandam  lit;ram  coram 
rege  posuit,  &  retracto  fraeno  (salutatis  ubique  discimbentibus) 
prout  venerat  ita  recessit,"  &c.  Anglic.  Norm.  Script  &c.  Franc. 
1603,  fol.  p.  109. 

It  may  be  observed  here,  that  minstrels  and  others  cften  rode  on 
horseback  up  to  the  royal  table,  when  the  kings  were  feasting  in 
their  great  halls.     See  in  this  vol.  book  i.  No.  6. 

The  answer  of  the  porters  (when  they  were  afterwards  blamed 
for  admitting  her)  also  deserves  attention.  "  Non  essemoris  domus 
regiae  histriones  ab  ingressu  quomodolibet  prohibeie,  &c."  Wal- 
singh. 

That  Stow  rightly  translated  the  Latin  word  Iwtrio  here  by 
minstrel.,  meaning  a  musician  that  sung,  and  whose  subjects  were 
stories  of  chivalry,  admits  of  easy  proof;  for  in  the  Gest&  Romanorum, 


FOREGOING    ESSAY.  41 


'\ 


chap.  Lxi.  jMercur>-  is  represented  as  coming  to  Argus  in  the  cha- 
racter 3f  a  minstrel;  when  he  "  incepit,  more  liistrionico  {zkya\:x% 
dicere  et  plerumque  cantare."  (T.  Warton,  iii.  p,  li.)  And 
Muratri  cites  a  passage,  in  an  old  Italian  chronicle,  wherein  men- 
tion iimade  of  a  stage  erected  at  Milan:  "Super  quo  histriones 
cantibjit,  sicut  modo  cantatur  de  Rolando  et  Oliverio."  Antich. 
Ital.  i  p.  6.  {Observ.  on  the  Statutes,  4th  edit.  p.  362.) 
Seedso  (E)  p.  388.  (F)  p.  389. 

(A  3  T/icre  should  seem  to  have  been  womcfi  of  this  professioti.'] 
This  lay  be  inferred  from  the  variety  of  names  appropriated  to 
them  n  the  Middle  Ages,  viz.  Anglo-Sax.  Dlip-meben(Glee- 
maide),  &c.  slypienbemaben,  glypbybenej'tjia.  (vid.  supra,  p. 
393.)  Yx.  Jengleresse,  •M.td..  \j3X.  joculatrix,  mimstralissa,  fcemina 
ministrialis,  &c.  (vid.  Du  Cange,  Gloss.  &=  Suppl.) 

Seevhat  is  said  in  p.  371  concerning  the  "sisters  of  the  fraternity 
of  mintrels;"  see  also  a  passage  quoted  by  Dr.  Bumey  (ii.  315) 
from  luratori,  of  the  chorus  of  women  singing  thro'  the  streets 
accomanied  -with  musical  instruments  in  1268. 

Ha(  the  female  described  by  Walsingham  been  a  tofnbestere,  or 
dancii^-woman  (see  Tyrwhitt's  Chaucer,  iv.  307,  and  v.  Gloss.)  that 
historin  would  probably  have  used  the  word  saltatrix  (see  T. 
Warto,  i.  240,  note  ;«.) 

Thee  saltatrices  were  prohibited  from  exhibiting  in  churches 
and  chrch-yards  along  w\.\h  joculatores,  histriones,  with  whom  they 
were  smetimes  classed,  especially  by  the  rigid  ecclesiastics,  who 
censurd,  in  the  severest  terms,  all  these  sportive  characters  (vid. 
T.  Wion  in  loco  citato,  and  vide  supra  (not.  E,  F,  &c.). 

Andhere  I  would  observe,  that  although  Fauchet  and  other 
subseqent  writers  affect  to  arrange  the  several  members  of  the 
minstn  profession  under  the  different  classes  oitrovcrres  {or  trouba- 
(iours)yhanterres,  conteours,  and  jugleurs,  &c.  (vid.  p.  385)  as  if 
they  w^e  distinct  and  separate  orders  of  men,  clearly  distinguished 
from  edi  other  by  these  appropriate  terms,  we  find  no  sufficient 
ground  for  this  in  the  oldest  writers ;  but  the  general  names  in 
Latin,  t'strio,  mimus,  joculator,  ministrallus,  &c.  in  French,  niene- 
strier,  tencstrel,  jongleur,  jugleur,  &c.  and  in  English,  joQ;clciir, 
vigler,  instrels,  and  the  like,  seem  to  be  given  them  indiscrimi- 
nately, ind  one  or  other  of  these  names  seem  to  have  been  some- 
times aplied  to  every  species  of  men,  whose  business  it  was  to 
entertai  or  divert  {joculari)  whether  with  poesy,  singing,  music, 
or  gestiilation,  singly,  or  with  a  mixture  of  all  these.  Yet  as  all 
men  of  is  sort  were  considered  as  belonging  to  one  class,  orilcr 
or  comrjnity  (many  of  the  above  arts  being  sometimes  exercised 
by  the  une  person),  they  had  all  of  them  doublkss  the  same 
privilege  and  it  ecjually  throws  light  upon  the  general  history  of 


414  NOTES    ON    THE 

the  profession  to  shew  what  favour  or  encouragement  was  gven,  at 
any  particular  period  of  time,  to  any  one  branch  of  it.  I  h,ve  not 
therefore  thought  it  needful  to  inquire  whether,  in  the  various 
passages  quoted  in  these  pages,  the  word  minstrel,  &c.  isilways 
to  be  understood  in  its  exact  and  proper  meaning  of  a  singei  to  the 
harp,  &c. 

That  men  of  very  different  arts  and  talents  were  include(  under 
the  common  name  of  minstrels,  &c.  appears  from  a  vaiety  of 
authorities.  Thus  we  have  metiestrels  de  trompes  and  fnaesfrels 
deboiiche  in  the  suppl.  to  Du  Cange,  c.  1227,  and  it  appars  still 
more  evident  from  an  old  French  rhymer,  whom  I  shall  aote  at 

large  : 

"  Le  Quens*  manda  les  Menestrels; 

Et  si  a  fet  f  crier  entre  els. 

Qui  la  meillor  trufife  %  sauroit 

Dire,  ne  faire,  qu'il  auroit 

Sa  robe  d'escarlate  nueve. 

L'uns  Menestrels  a  I'autre  reuve 

Fere  son  mestier,  tel  qu'il  sot, 

Li  uns  fet  I'yvre,  I'autre  sot ; 

Li  uns  chante,  li  autre  note  ; 

Et  li  autres  dit  la  riote  ; 

Et  li  autres  la  jenglerie  ;|| 

Cil  qui  sevent  de  jonglerie 

Vielent  par  devant  le  Conte  ; 

Aucuns  ja  qui  fabliaus  conte 

II  i  ot  dit  mainte  risee,"  &c. 

Fabliaux  et  Conies,  12 mo.  torn.  iip.  161. 

And  what  species  of  entertainment  was  afforded  by  th(ancient 
juggleurs  we  learn  from  the  following  citation  from  an  old  jmance, 
written  in  1230: 

"  Quand  les  tables  ostees  furent 

C'W  juggleurs  in  pies  esturent 

S'ont  vielles,  et  harpes  prisees 

Chansons,  sons,  vers,  et  reprises 

Et  gestes  chante  nos  ont." 

Sir  J.  Hawkins,  ii.  44,  from  Andr.  du  Chetie.  See  also  'yrwhitt's 
Chaucer,  iv.  p.  299. 
All  the  before  mentioned  sports  went  by  the  genen  name  of 


*  Le  Compte.  t  f^it- 

Sornette,  a  gibe,  a  jest,  or  flouting 
II  y angler ie,  babillage,  raillerie. 


FOREGOING    ESSAY.  415 

ministralcia  ministellorum  /utiicra,  &c. — Charta  an.  1377,  apud 
Rymer,  vii.  p.  160.  "  Peracto  autem  prandio,  ascendebat  1).  Rex  in 
cameram  suam  cum  Praelatis  Magnatibus  &  Proceribus  praedictis  : 
&  deinceps  Magnates,  Milites  &  Domini,  aliique  Generosi  diem 
ilium,  usque  ad  tempus  ccKUDe,  in  tripudiis,  coreis  &  solempnibus 
Ministralciis,  prce  gaudio  solempnitatis  illius  continuarunt."  (Du 
Cange,  Gloss.  773.)  This  was  at  the  coronation  of  K.  Richard  II. 

It  was  common  for  the  minstrels  to  dance,  as  well  as  to  harp  and 
sing  (see  above,  note  E,  p.  389)  ;  thus  in  the  old  Romance  of  Tirantf 
f/  BIanio,Y3.\.  1 511,  the  14th  cap.  lib.  2,  begins  thus  :  "Despuesqui 
las  Mesas  fueron  algadas  vinieron  los  Ministriles;  y  delante  del  rey, 
y  de  la  Reyna  dan^:aron  un  rato  :  y  despues  truxeron  colacion." 

They  also  probably,  among  their  other  feats,  played  tricks  of 
slight  of  hand,  hence  the  word  jugler  came  to  signify  a  performer 
of  legerdemain  ;  and  it  was  sometimes  used  in  this  sense  (to 
which  it  is  now  appropriated)  even  so  early  as  the  time  of  Chaucer, 
who  in  his  Squire's  Tale,  (ii.  108)  speaks  of  the  horse  of  brass,  as  : 

" like 


An  apparence  ymade  by  som  magike, 
As/ogelours  plaien  at  thise  festes  grete." 

See  also  the  Frere's  Tale,  i.  p.  279,  v.  7049. 

(a  a  2.)  Females  playing  on  the  harp.']  Thus  in  the  old 
romance  of  "Syr  Degore  (or  Degree,"  No.  22,  iii.  appendix)  we 
have  (Sign.  D.  i.): 

"  The  lady,  that  was  so  faire  and  bright, 

Upon  her  bed  she  sate  down  ryght ; 

She  harped  notes  swete  and  fine. 

(Her  mayds  filled  a  piece  of  wine.) 

And  Syr  Degore,  sate  him  downe, 

For  to  hear  the  harpes  sowne." 

The  4th  line  being  omitted  in  the  pr.  copy,  is  supplied  from  the 
folio  MS. 

In  the  Squyr  of  lowe  Degree  (No.  24,  iii.  appendix)  the 
king  says  to  his  daughter  (Sign.  D.  i.): 

"  Ye  were  wont  to  harpe  and  syng. 

And  be  the  meryest  in  chamber  comyng." 

In  the  Carle  of  Carlisle,  (No.  10.  iii.  appendix)  we  have 
the  following  passage  (folio  MS.  p.  451,  v.  217). 

"  Downe  came  a  lady  faire  and  free. 

And  sett  her  on  the  Carles  knee  : 

One  whiles  shec  harjjcd  another  whiles  song, 

IJoth  of  paramours  anfl  louinge  amonge." 


4i6  NOTES    ON    THE 

And  in  the  Romance  of  Eger  and  Grime  (No.  1 2,  iii.  appendix), 
we  have  {ibid.  p.  127,  col.  2)  in  part  i.  v.  263  : 

"  The  ladye  fayre  of  hew  and  hyde 

Shee  sate  downe  by  the  bed  side 

Shee  laid  a  souter  (psaltry)  vpon  her  knee 

Theron  shee  plaid  full  lovesomelye. 

....  And  her  2  maydens  sweetlye  sange." 

A  similar  passage  occurs  in  part  iv.  v.  129  (p.  136.) — But  these 
instances  are  sufficient. 

(Bb.)  A  charter  .  ...  to  appoint  a  king  of  the  minstrels.'] 
Intitled  Carta  Le  Roy  de  ministraulx  (in  Latin  histriones  vid. 
Plott.  p.  437.)  A  copy  of  this  charter  is  printed  in  Monast. 
Anglic,  i.  355,  and  in  Blount's  Law  Diction.  1717  (art.  king). 

That  this  was  a  most  respectable  officer,  both  here  and  on  the 
continent,  will  appear  from  the  passages  quoted  below,  and  there- 
fore it  could  only  have  been  in  modern  times,  when  the  proper 
meaning  of  the  original  terms  ministraulz,  and  histriones  was  for- 
got, that  he  was  called  king  of  the  fidlers  ;  on  which  subject  see 
below,  note  (e  e  2) 

Concerning  the  king  of  the  minstrels  we  have  the  following 
curious  passages  collected  by  Du  Cange,  Gloss,  iv.  773  : 

"  Rex  Ministellorum ;  supremus  inter  ministellos:  de  cujus  mu- 
nere,  potestate  in  cseteros  ministellos  agit  Charta  Henrici  IV.  Regis 
Anghae  in  Monast.  Anglicano,  tom.  i.  p.  355.  Charta  originaHs  an. 
^2>Z^-  Jc  Robert  Caveron  Roy  des  Menestreuls  du  Royaume  de 
France.  Aliae  ann.  1357.  &  1362.  Copin  de  Brequin  Roy  des 
.Menestres  du  Royaume  de  France.  Computum  de  auxiliis  pro 
redemptione  Regis  Johannis,  ann.  1367.  Pour  une  couronne 
d'argent  qu'il  donna  le  jour  de  la  Tiphaine  au  roy  des  menestrels. 

"  Regestum  Magnorum  Dierum  Trecensium  an.  1296.  Super 
quod  Joannes  dictus  Charmillons  Juglator,  cui  dominus  Rex  per 
suas  literas  tanquam  Regem  Juglatorum  in  civitate  Trecensi 
Magisterium  Juglatorum,  quemadmodum  suae  placeret  voluntati, 
concesserat."    Gloss,  c.  1587. 

There  is  a  very  curious  passage  in  Pasquier's  Recherches  de  la 
France.,  Paris,  1633,  folio,  liv.  7.  ch.  5,  p.  611,  wherein  he  appears 
to  be  at  a  loss  how  to  account  for  the  title  of  Le  Roy  assumed  by 
the  old  composers  of  metrical  romances ;  in  one  of  which  the  author 
expressly  declares  himself  to  have  been  a  minstrel.  The  solution 
of  the  difficulty,  that  he  had  been  Le  Roy  des  Menestrels,  will  be 
esteemed  more  probable  than  what  Pasquier  here  advances  ;  for  I 
have  never  seen  the  title  of  prince  given  to  a  minstrel,  &c.  scil. — 
"  A  nos  vieux  Poetes  .  .  .  comme  .  .  fust  qu'ils  eussent  certain  jeux 
de  prix  en  leurs  Poesies,  ils  .  .  honoroient  du  nome,  tantot  de 


FOREGOING    ESSAY,  417 

roy,  tantot  de  prince,  celuy  qui  avoit  le  mieux  faict  comme  nous 
voyons  entre  les  archers,  arbalestiers,  &  harquebusiers  estre  fait 
le  semblable.  Ainsi  I'autheur  du  Roman  d'Oger  le  Danois,  s'ap- 
pelle  Roy. 

"  Icy  endroict  est  cil  Livre  finez 
Qui  des  enfans  Oger  est  appellez 
Or  vueille  Diex  qu'il  soit  parachevez 
En  tel  maniere  kestre  n'en  puist  blamez 
Le  Roy  Adams  (r.  Adenes)  ki  il'  est  rimez. 

"  Et  en  celuy  de  Cleomades, 

"  Ce  Livre  de  Cleomades 
Rime-je  le  Roy  Adenes 
Menestre  au  bon  Due  Henry. 

"  Mot  de  Roy,  qui  seroit  tres-mal  approprie'  a  un  menestrier,  si 
d'ailleurson  ne  le  rapportoit  a  un  jeu  du  priz :  Et  de  faict  il  semble 
que  de  nostre  temps,  il  y  en  eust  encores  quelque  remarques,  en  ce 
que  le  mot  de  jouingleur  s'estant  par  succession  de  temps  tourn^ 
en  batelage  nous  avons  veu  en  nostre  jeunesse  les  Jouingleurs  se 
trouver  a  certain  jour  tous  les  ans  en  la  ville  de  Chauny  en  Picardie, 
pour  faire  monstre  de  leur  mestrier  devant  le  monde,  a  qui  mieux. 
Et  ce  que  j'en  dis  icy  n'est  pas  pour  vilipender  ces  anciens 
Rimeurs,  ainsi  pour  monstrer  qu'il  n'y  a  chose  si  belle  qui  ne 
s'aneantisse  avec  le  temps." 

We  see  here  that  in  the  time  of  Pasquier  the  poor  minstrel  was 
sunk  into  as  low  estimation  in  France,  as  he  was  then  or  after- 
wards in  England :  but  by  his  apology  for  comparing  the  jouin- 
gleurs, who  assembled  to  exercise  their  faculty,  in  his  youth,  to  the 
ancient  rimeurs,  it  is  plain  they  exerted  their  skill  in  rhyme. 

As  for  king  Adenes^  or  Adencz  (whose  name  in  the  first  passage 
above  is  corruptly  printed  Adams),  he  is  recorded  in  the  Bibliothhiue 
des  Romans,  Amst.  1734,  i2mo.  vol.  i.  p.  232,  to  have  composed 
the  two  romances  in  verse  above-mentioned,  and  a  third  intided 
Le  Roman  de  Berlin:  all  three  being  preserved  in  a  MS.  written 
about  1270.  His  Bon  Due  Henry  I  conceive  to  have  been  Henry 
Duke  of  Brabant. 

(B  b  2.)  Khig  of  the  minstrels,  6^^.]  See  Anstis's  Rea^ster  of 
the  Order  of  the  Garter,  ii.  p.  303,  who  tells  us:  "  The  President 
or  Governour  of  the  minstrels  had  tlie  like  denomination  oi roy  in 
France  and  Burgundy  :  and  in  England,  John  of  Gaunt  constituted 
such  an  officer  by  a  patent ;  and  long  before  his  time  i)a\incnts 
were  made  by  the  crown,  to  [a]  king  of  the  minstrels  by  Kdw.  L 
'  Regi  Roberto  Ministrallo  scutifero  ad  armacommoranti  ad  vadia 
Regis  anno  5to.'  {Bibl.    Cotton.    Vespas.  c.    16,  f  3),  as  likewise 

EE 


4i8  NOTES    ON    THE 

{Libra  Garderob.  25,  e.  i):  '  Ministrallis  in  die  nuptiarum  comitissae 
Holland  filise  Regis,  Regi  Pago,  Johanni  Vidulatori  &c.  Morello 
Regi,  &c.  Druetto  Monthaut,  and  Jacketto  de  Scot.  Regibus,  cuilibet 
eorum  xls.'  Regi  Pagio  de  Hollandia,  &c.  under  Ed.  II.  We  like- 
wise find  other  entries, '  Regi  Roberto  et  aliis  ministrallis  facientibus 
menistrallias  (ministralcias,  qu.)  suas  coram  Rege.  {Bibl.  Cotton. 
Nero.  c.  8,  p.  84  b.  Comp.  Garderob?)  That  king  granted,  'Willielmo 
de  Morlee  dicto  Roy  de  North,  Ministrallo  Regis,  domos  quae 
fuerunt'  Johannis  le  Boteler  dicti  Roy  Brunhaud  {Pat.  de  terr. 
forisfad.  16.  E.  3)."  He  adds  below,  (p.  304)  a  similar  instance  of 
a  rex  juglatoriim,  and  that  the  "  king  of  the  minstrels"  at  length 
was  styled  in  France  roy  des  violons,  (Furitiere,  Diction.  Univers.) 
as  with  us  "  king  of  the  fidlers,"  on  which  subject  see  below,  note 
(EC  2) 

(B  b  3.)  The  statute  4  Hen.  IV.  (1402)  c.  27,  runs  in  these  terms : 
"  Item,  pur  eschuir  plusieurs  diseases  et  mischiefs  qont  advenuz  de- 
vaunt  ces  heures  en  la  terre  de  Gales  par  plusieurs  westours 
rymours,  minstrabc  et  autres  vacabondes,  ordeignez  est  et  establiz 
qe  nul  westour,  rymour  ministral  ne  vacabond  soit  aucunement 
sustenuz  en  la  terre  de  Gales  pur  faire  kymorthas  ou  coillage  sur  la 
commune  poeple  illoeques."  This  is  among  the  severe  laws  against 
the  Welsh,  passed  during  the  resentment  occasioned  by  the  out- 
rages committed  under  Owen  Glendour;  and  as  the  Welsh  bards 
had  excited  their  countrymen  to  rebellion  against  the  English 
government,  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  that  the  act  is  conceived  in 
terms  of  the  utmost  indignation  and  contempt  against  this  class  of 
men,  who  are  described  as  rymours,  ministralx,  which  are  apparently 
here  used  as  only  synonymous  terms  to  express  the  Welsh  bards 
with  the  usual  exuberance  of  our  acts  of  parliament ;  for  if  their 
ministralx  had  been  mere  musicians,  they  would  not  have  required 
the  vigilance  of  the  English  legislature  to  suppress  them.  It  was 
their  songs  exciting  their  countrymen  to  insurrection  which  pro- 
duced "  les  diseases  &  mischiefs  en  la  terre  de  Gales." 

It  is  also  submitted  to  the  reader,  whether  the  same  appHcation 
of  the  terms  does  not  still  more  clearly  appear  in  the  commission 
issued  in  1567,  and  printed  in  Evan  Evans's  Specimens  of  Welsh 
Poetry,  1764,  4to.  p.  v.  for  bestowing  the  silver  harp  oij  "the  chief 
of  that  faculty."  For  after  setting  forth  "  that  vagrant  and  idle 
persons,  naming  themselves  minstr-els,  rytJwiers,  and  bards,  had 
lately  grown  into  such  intolerable  multitude  within  the  Principa- 
lity in  North  Wales,  that  not  only  gentlemen  and  others  by  their 
shameless  disorders  are  oftentimes  disquieted  in  their  habitations, 
but  also  expert  mi?istrels  and  musicians  in  tongue  and  cunynge  there- 
by much  discouraged,  &c."  and  "  hindred  [of]  livings  and  prefer- 
ment," &c.  it  appoints  a  time  and  place,  wherein  all  "  persons  that 


FOREGOING    ESSAY.  419 

intend  to  maintain  their  living  by  name  or  colour  of  viiustnis, 
rythmers,  or  bards  within  five  shires  of  North  ^^^'^les,  shall  appear 
to  show  their  learnings  accordingly,"  &c.  And  tlie  commissioners 
are  required  to  admit  such  as  shall  be  found  worthy,  into  and 
under  the  degrees  heretofore  in  use,  so  that  they  may  "  use,  exer- 
cise, and  follow  the  sciences  and  faculties  of  their  professions  in 
such  decent  order  as  shall  appertain  to  each  of  their  degrees." 
And  the  rest  are  to  return  to  some  honest  labour,  &:c.  upon  pain  to 
be  taken  as  sturdy  and  idle  vagabonds,  &c. 

(B  b  4.)  Holinshed  translated  this  passage  from  Tho.  de  Elm- 
ham's  Vita  ct  Gesta  Henrici  V.  scil. :  "  Soli  Omnipotenti  Deo  se 
velle  ^•ictoriam  imputari  ...  in  tantum,  quod  cantus  de  sue 
triumpho  fieri,  seu  per  Citharistas  vel  alios  quoscuncjue  cantari 
penitus  prohibebat,"'  (Edit.  Heamii,  1727,  p.  72).  As  in  his  version 
Holinshed  attributes  the  making,  as  well  as  singing  ditties  to 
minstrels,  it  is  plain  he  knew  that  men  of  this  profession  had  been 
accustomed  to  do  both. 

(C  c.)  The  Houshold  Book,  (S^^.]     See  Section  v. 

"  Of  the  noumbre  of  all  my  lords  servaunts." 

"Item,  ■M\Tistrals  in  Houshold  iii.  viz.  a  taberet,  a  luyte,  and  a 
Rebecc."     (The  rebeck  was  a  kind  of  fiddle  with  three  strings). 

"Sect.  XLIV.  3. 

"  Rewardes  to  his  lordship's  Servaunts,  &c. 

"  Item,  My  lord  usith  ande  accustomith  to  gyf  yerly,  when  his 
lordschipp  is  at  home,  to  his  minstrallis  that  be  daily  in  his  hous- 
hold, as  his  tabret,  lute,  ande  Rebeke,  upon  New  Yeresday  in  the 
momynge  when  they  do  play  at  my  lordis  chamber  dour  for  his 
lordschip  and  my  lady,  xxi".  viz.  xiii^r.  \\d.  for  my  lord ;  and 
\\s.  \\\\ii.  for  my  lady,  if  sche  be  at  my  lords  fyndynge,  and  not 
at  hir  owen ;  And  for  playing  at  my  lordis  sone  and  heire's  cham- 
ber doure,  the  lord  Percy,  \\s.  And  for  playinge  at  the  cliamber 
doures  of  my  lords  yonger  sonnes,  my  yonge  masters,  after  \\\\d. 
the  pecc  for  every  of  them. — xxiiij-.  \\\\d. 

"  Sect.  XLIV.  2. 

"  Rewards  to  be  geven  to  strangers,  as  Players, 
Mynstralls,  or  any  other,  &c. 

"  Furst,  my  lorde  usith  and  accustomyth  to  gif  to  the  kings 
jugler;  ....  when  they  custome  to  come  unto  hym  yerly,  vij-. 
viii</. 

"  Item,   my  lorde  usith  and  accustomyth  to  gif  ycrely  to  the 


420  NOTES    ON    THE 

kings  or  queenes  Bearwarde,  if  they  have  one,  when  they  custom 
to  come  imto  hym  yeriy,  vi^'.  viii^. 

"  Item,  my  lorde  usith  and  accustomyth  to  gyfe  yerly  to  every 
erles  mynstrelHs,  when  they  custome  to  come  to  hym  yerely,  iiix. 
iiii^.  And  if  they  come  to  my  lorde  seldome,  ones  in  ii  or  iii  yeres, 
than  \\s.  Yiixd. 

"  Item,  my  lorde  usith  and  accustomedeth  to  gife  yerely  to  an 
erls  mynstralls,  if  he  be  his  speciall  lorde,  friende,  or  kynsman,  if 
they  come  yerely  to  his  lordschip  ....  And,  if  they  come  to  my 
'  lord'  seldome,  ones  in  ii  or  iii  years " 

*  *  *  *  *  * 

"  Item,  my  lorde  usith  and  accustomyth  to  gyf  yerely  a  dookes 
or  erlis  trumpetts,  if  they  come  vi  together  to  his  lordschipp,  viz. 
if  they  come  yerly,  vis.  viiirt'.  And,  if  they  come  but  in  ii  or  iii 
yeres,  than  xs." 

"  Item,  my  lorde  usith  and  accustometh  to  gife  yerly,  when  his 
lordschip  is  at  home,  to  gyf  to  the  kyngs  shawmes,  when  they  com 
to  my  lorde  yerely,  xs." 

****** 

I  cannot  conclude  this  note  without  observing  that  in  this  enu- 
meration the  family  minstrels  seem  to  have  been  musicians  only, 
and  yet  both  the  earl's  trumpets  and  the  king's  shawmes  are 
evidently  distinguished  from  the  earl's  minstrels,  and  the  king's 
jugler.  Now  we  find  jugglers  still  coupled  with  pipers  in  Barklay's 
-Eg/oges,  arc.  15 14.     (Warton,  ii.  254.) 

(C  c  2.)  The  honours  and  rewards  conferred  on  minstrels,  &c. 
in  the  middle  ages  were  excessive,  as  will  be  seen  by  many  in- 
stances in  these  volumes;  v.  note  E,  F.  &c.  But  more  particu- 
larly with  regard  to  English  minstrels,  &c.  See  T.  Warton's  Ht'sf. 
of  Eng.  Poetry,  i.  p.  89-92,  116,  &c.,  ii.  105,  106,  254,  &c.  Dr. 
Bumey's  Hist,  of  Music,  ii.  p.  316-319,  397-399,  427-428. 

On  this  head,  it  may  be  sufficient  to  add  the  following  passage 
from  the  Fleta,  lib.  ii.  c.  23  :  "Officium  Elemosinarij  est  .  .  . 
Equos  relictos,  Robas,  Pecuniam,  et  alia  ad  Elemosinam  largiter 
recipere  et  fidelitur  distribuere  ;  debet  etiam  Regem  super  Elemo- 
sinse  largitione  crebris  summonitionibus  stimulare  &  praecipue 
diebus  sanctorum,  et  rogare  ne  Robas  suas  quae  magni  sunt 
precij  histrionibus,  blanditoribus,  adulatoribus,  accusatoribus,  vel 
menestrallis,  sed  ad  Elemosinae  suae  incrementum  jubeat  largiri." 
Et  in  c.  72  :  "  ministralli,  vel  adulatoris." 

(D  d.)  A  species  of  mer^  who  did  not  sing,  &^c.']  It  appears 
from  the  passage  of  Erasmus  here  referred  to,  that  there  still  existed 
in  England  of  that   species  of  jongleurs  or  minstrels,  whom  the 


FOREGOING    ESSAY.  421 

French  called  by  the  peculiar  name  oicontcours,  or  reciters  in  prose. 
It  is  in  his  Eccksiastes,  where  he  is  speaking  of  such  preachers  as 
imitated  the  tone  of  beggars  or  mountebanks  :  "  Apud  Anglos  est 
simile  genushominum,  qualesapud  Italossunt  circulatores  [mounte- 
banks] de  quibus  modo  dictum  est ;  qui  irrumpunt  in  convivia 
magnatum,  aut  in  Cauponas  Vinarias  ;  et  argumentum  alicjuod,  quod 
edidicerunt,  recitant ;  puta  mortem  omnibus  dominari,  aut  laudeni 
matrimonii.  Sed  quoniam  ea  lingua  monosyllabis  fere  constat, 
quemadmodum  Germanica ;  atque  illi  (sc.  this  peculiar  species  of 
reciters)  studio  \-itant  cantuni,  nobis  (sc.  Erasmus,  who  did  not 
understand  a  word  of  English)  latrare  videntur  verius  quam  loqui." 
—Opera,  tom.  v.  c.  958  (Jortin,  vol.  ii.  p.  193).  As  Erasmus  was 
correcting  the  vice  of  preachers,  it  was  more  to  his  point  to  bring 
an  instance  from  the  moral  reciters  of  prose,  than  from  chanters 
of  rhime ;  though  the  latter  would  probably  be  more  popular,  and 
therefore  more  common. 

(Ee.)  This  character  is  supposed  to  have  been  suggested  by  de- 
scriptions of  minstrels  in  the  romance  of  Morte  Art/iur ;  but  none, 
it  seems,  have  been  found  which  come  nearer  to  it  than  the  follow- 
ing, which  I  shall  produce,  not  only  that  the  reader  may  judge  of 
the  resemblance,  but  to  shew  how  nearly  the  idea  of  the  minstrel 
character  given  in  this  essay  corresponds  with  that  of  our  old 
writers. 

Sir  Lancelot,  having  been  affronted  by  a  threatening  abusive  let- 
ter which  Mark,  king  of  Comwal,  had  sent  to  Queen  Guenever, 
wherein  he  "  spake  shame  by  her  and  Sir  Lancelot,  "  is  comforted 
by  a  knight,  named  Sir  Dinadan,  who  tells  him  "I  will  make  a  lay 
for  him,  and  when  it  is  made,  I  shall  make  an  harper  to  sing  it  be- 
fore him.  So  anon  he  went  and  made  it,  and  taught  it  an  harper, 
that  hyght  Elyot ;  and  when  hee  could  it,  hee  taught  it  to  many 
harpers.  And  so  .  .  .  the  harpers  went  straight  unto  Wales  and 
Comwaile  to  sing  the  lay  .  .  .  which  was  the  worst  lay  that  ever 
harper  sung  with  harpe,  or  with  any  other  instrument.  And  [at  a] 
great  feast  that  king  Marke  made  for  joy  of[aJ  victorie  which  hee 
had  .  .  .  came  Eliot  the  harper ;  .  .  .  and  because  he  was  a 
curious  harper,  men  heard  him  sing  the  same  lay  that  Sir  Dinadan 
had  made,  the  which  spake  the  most  vilanie  by  king  Marke  of 
his  treason,  that  ever  man  heard.  When  the  harper  had  sung 
his  song  to  the  end,  king  Marke  was  wonderous  wroth  with  him, 
and  said.  Thou  harper,  how  durst  thou  be  so  bold  to  sing  this 
song  before  me  ?  Sir,  said  Eliot,  wit  you  wel  I  am  a  minstrel),  and 
I  must  doe  as  I  am  commanded  of  these  lords  that  I  bear  the 
amies  of.  And  Sir  king,  wit  you  well  that  Sir  Dinadan  a  knight 
of  the  Round  Table  made  this  song,  and  he  made  me  to  sing  it 
before  you.     Thou  saiest  well,  said  king  Marke,  I  charge  thee  liiat 


422  NOTES    ON    THE 

thou  hie  thee  fast  out  of  my  sight.     So  the  harper  departed,  &c." 
(Part  ii.  c.  113,  ed.  1634.     See  also  part  iii.  c.  5.) 

(E  e  2.)  This  art  seems  to  have  put  an  end  to  the  profession, 
&^c.'\  Although  I  conceive  that  the  character  ceased  to  exist,  yet 
the  appellation  might  be  continued,  and  applied  to  fidlers,  or  other 
common  musicians  :  which  will  account  for  the  mistakes  of  Sir 
Peter  Leicester,  or  other  modern  writers.  (See  his  Historical 
Antiquities  of  Cheshire,  1673,  P-  i4i-) 

In  this  sense  it  is  used  in  an  ordinance  in  the  times  of  Cromwell 
(1656),  wherein  it  is  enacted  that  if  any  of  the  "persons  com- 
monly called  fidlers  or  minstrels  shall  at  any  time  be  taken  play- 
ing, fidling,  and  making  music  in  any  inn,  ale-house,  or  tavern,  or 
shall  be  taken  proffering  themselves,  or  desiring,  or  intreating  any 
...  to  hear  them  play  or  make  music  in  any  of  the  places  afore- 
said "  they  are  to  be  "  adjudged  and  declared  to  be  rogues, 
vagabonds,  and  sturdy  beggars." 

This  will  also  account  why  John  of  Gaunt's  king  of  the 
minstrels  at  length  came  to  be  called,  like  le  ivy  des  violons 
in  France  (v.  note  Bb  2.),  king  of  the  fidlers.  See  the  common 
ballad  intitled  The  Pedigree,  Education,  and  Marriage  of  Robin- 
hood  with  Clorinda,  queen  of  Tutbuiy  Feast :  which,  though  prefixed 
to  the  modem  collection  on  that  subject,*  seems  of  much  later  date 
than  most  of  the  others ;  for  the  writer  appears  to  be  totally 
ignorant  of  all  the  old  traditions  concerning  this  celebrated  outlaw, 
and  has  given  him  a  very  elegant  bride  instead  of  his  old  noted 
Lemman,  "  Maid  Marian  : "  who  together  with  his  chaplain  ''  Frier 
Tuck,"  were  his  favourite  companions,  and  probably  on  that  account 
figured  in  the  old  morice  dance,  as  may  be  seen  by  the  engraving 
in  Mr.  Steevens's  and  Mr.  Malone's  edition  of  Shakespeare:  by 
whom  she  is  mentioned,  i  Hen.  IV.  act  iii.  sc.  3.  (See  also  Warton^ 
i.  245,  ii.  237.)  Whereas  from  this  ballad's  concluding  with  an 
exhortation  to  "  pray  for  the  king,"  and  "  that  he  may  get  children," 

*  Of  the  24  songs  in  what  is  now  called  Robin  Hood's  Garland, 
many  are  so  modern  as  not  to  be  found  in  Pepys's  collection  com- 
pleted only  in  1700.  In  the  folio  MS.  are  ancient  fragments  of 
the  following,  viz.  :  Robin  Hood  and  the  Beggar,  Robin  Hood 
and  the  Butcher,  Robin  Hood  and  Fryer  lucke,  Robin  Hood  and 
the  Pindar,  Robin  Hood  and  Queen.  Cathaiiiic,  in  two  parts,  Little 
John  and  the  four  Beggars,  and  Robinc  Hoode  his  Death.  This 
last,  which  is  very  curious,  has  no  resemblance  to  any  that  have 
been  published ;  and  the  others  are  extremely  different  from  the 
printed  copies ;  but  they  unfortunately  are  in  the  beginning  of  the 
MS.  where  half  of  every  leaf  hath  been  torn  away. 


FOREGOING    ESSAY.  423 

&c.  it  is  evidently  posterior  to  the  reign  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  and 
can  scarce  be  older  than  the  reign  of  K.  Charles  I.  for  K.  James 
1.  had  no  issue  after  his  accession  to  the  throne  of  England.  It 
may  even  have  been  \\Titten  since  the  Restoration,  and  only  express 
the  wishes  of  the  nation  for  issue  on  the  marriage  of  their  favourite 
K.  Charles  11.,  on  his  marriage  with  the  Infonta  of  Portugal.  I 
think  it  is  not  found  in  the  Pepys  collection. 

(F  f.)  Historical  song  or  ballad. '\  The  English  word  ballad  is 
evidently  from  the  French  baladc,  as  the  latter  is  from  the  Italian 
ballata  ;  which  the  Crusca  Dictionary  defines,  canzone  che  si  canta 
ballando :  "  a  song  which  is  sung  during  a  dance."  So  Dr.  Bur- 
ney  (ii.  343,)  who  refers  to  a  collection  of  balletic,  pubHshed  by 
Gastaldi,  and  printed  at  Antwerp  in  1596  (iii.  226.) 

But  the  word  appears  to  have  had  an  earlier  origin :  for  in  the 
decline  of  the  Roman  empire,  these  trivial  songs  were  called 
ballistca  and  saltatiunculce.  Ballisteiifn,  Salmasius  says,  is  pro- 
perly ballistiiim,  Gr.  'QaWiaraiov.  "  otTro  -«  BaWi'^'w  .  .  .  BaWiortn 
saltatio  .  .  .  ^a/Z/j/zV/w  igitur  est  quod  vulgo  vocamus /'<///:'/';  nam 
inde  deducta  vox  nostra."     Salmas.  Not.  in  Hist.  Ang.  Scriptores, 

iv.  p.  349- 

In  the  life  of  the  Emperor  Aurelian  by  Fl.  Vopiscus  may  be 
seen  two  of  these  ballistca,  as  sung  by  the  boys  skipping  and 
dancing,  on  account  of  a  great  slaughter  made  by  the  emperor 
vith  his  own  hand  in  the  Sarmatic  war.     The  first  is : 

"  Mille,  mille,  mille  decollavimus, 
Unas  homo  mille  decollavimus, 
Mille  vivat,  qui  mille  occidit. 
Tantum  vini  habet  nemo 
Quantum  fudit  sanguinis." 

The  other  was  : 

"  Mille  Samiatas,  mille  Francos 
Semel  &  semel  occidimus. 
Mille  Persas  qua^rimus." 

Salmasius  {in  loc.)  shows  that  the  trivial  poets  of  that  time  were 
wont  to  form  their  metre  of  trochaic  tetramctre  catalectics,  divided 
into  distichs.  {Ibid.  p.  350.)  This  becoming  the  metre  of  the  hymns 
in  the  church  service,  to  which  the  monks  at  length  superadded 
rhyming  terminations,  was  the  origin  of  the  common  trochaic 
metre  in  the  modern  languages.  This  observation  I  owe  to  the 
learnetl  author  of  Irish  Antiquities,  4to. 

(F  f  2.)  Little  Miscellanies  ?ianicd  Garlands,  6-r.]  In  the 
Pepysian  and  other  libraries  are  preserved  a  great  number  of  these 


424  NOTES    ON    THE 

in  black  letter,  J2mo.  under  the  following  quaint  and  affected 
titles,  viz. : 

I.  A  Crowjie  Garland  of  Goulden  Roses  gathered  out  of  England^  s 
Royal  Garden,  &^e.,  by  Richard  Johnson,  1612.  [In  the  Bodleyan 
Library.]  2.  T/ie  Golden  Garland  of  Fri?icely  Delight.  3.  The 
Garland  of  Good-will,  hy  T.  D.,  1631.  4.  The  Royal  Garland  of 
Love  and  Delight,  byT.  D.  5.  The  Garland  of  Delight,  6^^.,  by 
Tho.  Delone.  6.  The  Garla?id  of  Love  and  Mirth,  by  Thomas 
Lanfier.  '].  Cupid's  Gatiafid  set  roimdivith  Guilded  Roses.  8.  The 
Garland  of  Withered  Roses,  by  Martin  Parker,  1656.  9.  The 
Shepherd^ s  Garland  of  Love,  Loyalty,  &=€.  10.  The  Country  Gar- 
land. II.  The  Golde7i  Garland  of  Mirth  and  Merriment.  12.  The 
Lover's  Garland.  13.  Neptune's  fair  Garland.  14.  England's 
fair  Garland.  15.  Robin  LLood's  Garland.  16.  The  Maiden! s 
Garland,  i^.  A  Loyal  Garland  of  Mirth  and  Pastime.  18.  ^ 
Royal  Garland  of  Neiu  Songs.  19.  The  Jovial  Garland,  Z\}i\  0.6x1. 
1 69 1,  &c.  &c.  &c. 

This  sort  of  petty  publications  had  anciently  the  name  of  Penny 
Merriments :  as  little  religious  tracts  of  the  same  size  were  called 
Penny  Godlinesses.  In  the  Pepysian  Library  are  multitudes  of 
both  kinds. 

(G  g.)  The  term  minstrel  was  not  confined  to  a  77ieer  musician  in 
this  country  any  more  than  on  the  Cofiti?ie?it.']  The  discussion 
of  the  question,  whether  the  term  minstrel  was  applied  in  England 
to  singers  and  composers  of  songs,  &c.  or  confined  to  the  perfor- 
mers on  musical  instruments,  was  properly  reserved  for  this  place, 
because  much  light  hath  already  been  thrown  upon  the  subject  in 
the  preceding  notes,  to  which  it  will  be  sufficient  to  refer  the  reader. 

That  on  the  Continent  the  minstrel  was  understood  not  to  be  a 
meer  musician  but  a  singer  of  verses,  hath  been  shown  in  notes 
B,  c,  R,  A  a,  &c.*  And  that  he  was  also  a  maker  of  them  is  evident 
from  the  passage  in  (c.)  p.  386,  where  the  most  noted  romances 
are  said  to  be  of  the  composition  of  these  men.  And  in  (b  b.) 
p.  417,  we  have  the  titles  of  some  of  which  a  minstrel  was  the 
author,  who  has  himself  left  his  name  upon  record. 

*  That  the  French  minstrel  was  a  singer  and  composer,  &c. 
appears  from  many  passages  translated  by  M.  Le  Grand,  in  Fa- 
bliaux ou  Contes,  6^c.  see  tom.  i.  p.  37,  47,  ii.  306,  313,  6^  se^^. 
iii.  266,  &c.  Yet  this  writer,  like  other  French  critics,  endeavours 
to  reduce  to  distinct  and  separate  classes  the  men  of  this  profession 
under  the  precise  names  of  fablier,  cofiteur,  menetrier,  menestrel, 
and  jongleur  (tom.  i.  pref  p.  xcviii.)  whereas  his  own  tales  con- 
fute all  these  nice  distinctions,  or  prove  at  least  that  the  title  of 
menetrier  or  minstrel  was  applied  to  them  all. 


FOREGOING    ESSAY.  425 

The  old  English  names  for  one  of  this  profession  were  glee- 
man,*  jogelerj  and  latterly  minstrel ;  not  to  mention  harper,  &c. 
In  French  he  was  calledycv/^/tv/r  ory/zi^/tv/r,  tncmstrdox  ))icncstricr.\ 
The  writers  of  the  middle  ages  expressed  the  character  in  Latin 
by  the  woxd^  Joculator,  /m'inus,  /listrio,  ini/iistfei/us,  &c.  These 
tenns,  however  modem  critics  may  endeavour  to  distinguish  and 
apply  them  to  different  classes,  and  although  they  may  be  some- 
times mentioned  as  if  they  were  distinct,  I  cannot  find  after  a 
very  strict  research  to  have  had  any  settled  appropriate  difference, 
but  they  appear  to  have  been  used  indiscriminately  by  the  oldest 
writers,  especially  in  England,  where  the  most  general  and  com- 
prehensive name  was  latterly  minstrel,  Lat.  iiiinistni/ies,  &c. 

Th.M'i.JoLuIator  (Eng.  jogeler,  orjuglar)  is  used  as  synonymous  to 
citharista  (note  k.  p.  397),  and  to  cantor  (p.  397),  and  to  minstrel 
(vid.  infra,  p.  425).  We  have  also  positive  proof  that  the  sub- 
ject of  his  songs  were  gestes  and  romantic  tales  (v.  2.  note). 

So  mimus  is  used  as  synonymous  \o  joadaior  (m.  p.  399).  He 
was  rewarded  for  his  singing  (n.  p.  400)  and  he  both  sang,  harped, 
and  dealt  in  that  sport  (t.  2)  which  is  elsewhere  called  arsjoai- 
latoria  (m.  ubi  supra). 

Again  histrio  is  also  proved  to  have  been  a  singer  (z.  p.  412) 
and  to  have  gained  rewards  by  his  verbajociilatoria  (e.  p.  388).  And 
histriones  is  the  term  by  which  the  Fr.  word  viinistraulx  is  most 
frequently  rendered  into  Latin  (w.  p.  410,  ub.  p.  416,  &c.) 

The  fact  therefore  is  sufficiently  estabhshed  that  this  order  of 
men  were  in  England,  as  well  as  on  the  Continent,  singers :  so  that 
it  only  becomes  a  dispute  about  words,  whether  here  under  the 
more  general  name  of  minstrels,  they  are  described  as  having  sung. 

But  in  proof  of  this  w^e  have  only  to  turn  to  so  common  a  book 
as  T.  Warton's  History  of  Eng.  Poetry :  where  we  shall  find  ex- 
tracted from  records  the  following  instances: — 

"Ex  Registr.  Priorat.  S.  Swithin  Winton(sub  anno  1374)-  In 
festo  Alwyni  Epi.  .  .  .  Et  durante  pietancia  in  Aula  Convcntus 
sex  ministralli,  cum  quatuor  citharisatoribus,  faciebant  ministralcias 
suas.  Et  post  cenam,  in  magna  camera  arcuata  dom.  prions  can- 
tabant  idem  Gestum  in  qua  Camera  suspendebatur,  ut  moris  est, 
magnum  dorsale  Prioris  habens  picturas  trium  Regum  Colein. 
Veniebant  autem  dicti  joculatores  a  Castello  domini  Regis  &  ex 
familia  Epi."  (vol.  ii.  p.  174).  Here  the  minstrels  and  harpers  are 
expressly  c?i}Aiti\.  joculatores.  and  as  the  harpers  had  musical  instru- 
ments, the  singing  must  have  been  by  the  minstrels,  or  by  both 
conjointly. 

For  that  minstrels  sang  we  have  undeniable  proof  in  the  following 


♦  See  p.  392.       t  '"^t-*--  P-  409-       \  See  p.  359,  note.* 


426  NOTES    ON    THE 

entry  in  the  Accompt  Roll  of  the  Priory  of  Bicester,  in  Oxford- 
shire (under  the  year  1432).  "  Dat.  6'dr  ministralUs  dQ  Bokyngham 
cantantibus  in  refedorio  Martyrium  Septem  Doniientium  infesto  Epi- 
pJianie,  ivi"."  (vol.  ii.  p.  175). 

In  like  manner  our  old  English  writers  abound  with  passages 
wherein  the  minstrel  is  represented  as  singing.  To  mention  only 
a  few : 

In  the  old  romance  oi  Efuare  (No.  15,  vol.  iii.  appendix),  which 
from  the  obsoleteness  of  the  style,  the  nakedness  of  the  story, 
the  barrenness  of  incidents,  and  some  other  particulars,  I  should 
judge  to  be  next  in  point  of  time  to  Hornchild,  we  have  : 

"I  have  herd  menstrelles  syng  yn  sawe." — Stanza  27. 

In  a  poem  of  Adam  Davie  (who  flourished  about  1312)  we  have 
this  distich : — 

"  Merry  it  is  in  halle  to  here  the  harpe, 
The  Minstrelles  synge,  the  jogelours  carpe." 

T.  Warton,  i.  p.  225. 

So  William  of  Nassyngton  (circ.  1480)  as  quoted  by  Mr.  Tyrwhitt 
{Chaucer^  iv.  319) : — 

"  I  will  make  no  vain  carpinge 

Of  dedes  of  armys  ne  of  amours 

As  dus  Mynstrelles  and  Jestours  [Gestours] 

That  makys  carpinge  in  many  a  place 

Of  Octaviane  and  Isembrase, 

And  of  many  other  Jestes  [Gestes] 

And  namely  whan  they  come  to  festes."  * 

See  also  the  description  of  the  minstrel  in  note  e  e.  from  Morte 
Arthur,  which  appears  to  have  been  compiled  about  the  time  of 
this  last  writer.    (See  T.  Warton,  ii.  235). 

By  proving  that  minstrels  were  singers  of  the  old  romantic  songs 
and  gestes,  &c.  we  have  in  effect  proved  them  to  have  been  the 
makers  at  least  of  some  of  them.  For  the  names  of  their  authors 
being  not  preserved,  to  whom  can  we  so  probably  ascribe  the  com- 
position of  many  of  these  old  popular  rhimes,  as  to  the  men  who 


*  The  fondness  of  the  English  (even  the  most  illiterate)  to  hear 
tales  and  rimes,  is  much  dwelt  on  by  Rob.  de  Brunne,  in  1330 
(Warton,  i.  p.  59,  65,  75).  All  rimes  were  then  sung  to  the  harp: 
even  Troilus  and  Cresseide,  though  almost  as  long  as  the  yEneid, 
was  to  be  "redde  ...  or  else  songe."    1.  ult.  (Warton,  i.  388). 


FOREGOING    ESSAY.  427 

devoted  all  their  time  and  talents  to  the  recitation  of  them  :  espe' 
cially  as  in  the  rhimes  themselves  minstrels  are  often  represented 
as  the  makers  or  composers. 

Thus  in  the  oldest  of  all,  Horn-child  having  assumed  the  charac- 
ter of  a  harper  or  jogeler,  is  in  consequence  said  (fo.  92).  to  have 

'•  made  Rymenild  [his  mistress]  a  lay.'' 

In  the  old  romance  of  Emare,  we  have  this  exhortation  to 
minstrels,  as  composers,  otherwise  they  could  not  have  been  at 
Hberty  to  chuse  their  subjects  (st.  2)  : — 

"  Menstrelles  that  walken  fer  and  \\yde 
Her  and  ther  in  every  a  syde 

In  mony  a  dyverse  londe 
Sholde  ut  her  bygynnyng 
Speke  of  that  rj^ghtwes  kyng 

That  made  both  see  and  sonde,"  &c. 

And  in  the  old  song  or  geste  of  Guy  and  Colbronde  (No.  4, 
vol.  iii.  appendix),  the  minstrel  thus  speaks  of  himself  in  the  first 
person : 

''  When  meate  and  drinke  is  great  plentye 
Then  lords  and  ladyes  still  wil  be 

And  sitt  and  solace  lythe 
Then  itt  is  time  for  ?nee  to  speake 
Of  keene  knights  and  kempes  great 
Such  carping  for  to  kythe." 

We  have  seen  already  that  the  Welsh  bards,  who  were  undoubt- 
edly composers  of  the  songs  they  chanted  to  the  harp,  could  not 
be  distinguished  by  our  legislators  from  our  own  rimers,  minstrels 
(vid.  note  b  b.  3,  p.  418). 

And  that  the  Provengal  troubadour  of  our  King  Richard,  who  is 
called  by  M.  Favine  jongleur,  and  by  M.  Fauchet  mcncstrcl,  is  by 
the  old  English  translator  termed  a  rimer  or  minstrel,  when  he  is 
mentioning  the  fact  of  his  composing  some  verses  (p.  359). 

And  lastly,  that  Holinshed,  translating  the  prohibition  of  K. 
Henry  V.,  forbidding  any  songs  to  be  comi)Osc(l  on  his  victory,  or  to 
be  sung  by  harpers  or  others,  roundly  gives  it,  he  would  not  permit 
"  any  ditties  to  be  made  and  sung  by  minstrels  on  his  glorious  vic- 
tory',' (S:c.  (vid.  p.  370  and  note  B  b.  4). 

Now  that  this  order  of  men,  at  first  called  gleemcn,  then  juglers, 
and  afterwards  more  generally  minstrels,  existed  here  from  the 
Conquest,  who  entertained  their  liearers  with  chanting  to  the  harp 
or  other  instruments,  songs  and  tales  of  chivalry,  or  as  they  were 


428  NOTES    ON    THE 

called,  gests*  and  romances  in  verse  in  the  English  language,  is 
proved  by  the  existence  of  the  very  compositions  they  so  chanted, 
which  are  still  preserved  in  great  abundance,  and  exhibit  a  regular 
series  from  the  time  our  language  was  almost  Saxon,  till  after  its 
improvements  in  the  age  of  Chaucer,  who  enumerates  many  of 
them.  And  as  the  Norman  French  was  in  the  time  of  this  bard 
still  the  courtly  language,  it  shows  that  the  English  was  not  there- 
by excluded  from  affording  entertainment  to  our  nobihty,  who  are 
so  often  addressed  therein  by  the  title  of  lordings  :  and  sometimes 
more  positively  "lords  and  ladies  "  (p.  427). 

And  tho'  many  of  these  were  translated  from  the  French,  others 
are  evidently  of  English  origin f  which  appear  in  their  turns  to  have 
afforded  versions  into  that  language  ;  a  sufficient  proof  of  that  in- 
tercommunity between  the  French  and  English  minstrels,  which 
hath  been  mentioned  in  a  preceding  page.  Even  the  abundance 
of  such  translations  into  English  being  all  adapted  for  popular  re- 
citation, sufficiently  establishes  the  fact  that  the  English  minstrels 
had  a  great  demand  for  such  compositions,  which  they  were  glad 
to  supply,  whether  from  their  own  native  stores  or  from  other  lan- 
guages. 

We  have  seen  above  that  the  joculator,  mimus,  histrio,  whether 
these  characters  were  the  same,  or  had  any  real  difference,  were  all 
called  minstrels  ;  as  was  also  the  harper, J  when  the  term  implied 
a  singer,  if  not  a  composer  of  songs,  &c.  By  degrees  the  name  of 
minstrel  was  extended  to  vocal  and  instrumental  musicians  of  every 
kind :  and  as  in  the  establishment  of  royal  and  noble  houses,  the 
latter  would  necessarily  be  most  numerous,  so  we  are  not  to  wonder 
that  the  band  of  music  (entered  under  the  general  name  of  min- 
strels) should  consist  of  instrumental  performers  chiefly,  if  not  al- 

*  Gests  at  length  came  to  signify  adventures  or  incidents  in 
general.  So  in  a  narrative  of  the  journey  into  Scotland  of  Queen 
Margaret  and  her  attendants,  on  her  marriage  with  K.  James  IV. 
in  1503  (in  appendix  to  Leland.  Collect,  iv.  p.  265),  we  are  pro- 
mised an  account  "of  their  gestys  and  manners  during  the  said 
voyage." 

t  The  romance  of  Richard  Coeur  de  Lion  (No.  25)  I  should 
judge  to  be  of  English  origin,  from  the  names  Wardrewe  and 
Eldrede,  &c.  iii.  appendix  (sect.  ii.).  As  is  also  Eger  and  Grime 
(No.  12),  wherein  a  knight  is  named  Sir  Gray  Steel,  and  a  lady 
who  excells  in  surgery  is  called  Loosepaine  or  Losepain ;  these 
surely  are  not  derived  from  France. 

X  See  the  romance  of  Sir  Isenbras  (No.  14)  sign.  a. 

"  Harpers  loved  him  in  Hall 
With  other  Minstrels  all." 


FOREGOING    ESSA  Y.  429 

together ;  for  as  the  composer  or  singer  of  heroic  tales  to  the  harp 
would  necessarily  be  a  solitary  performer,  we  must  not  expect  to 
find  him  in  the  band  along  with  the  trumpeters,  fluters,  &c. 

However,  as  we  sometimes  find  mention  of  "  Minstrels  of  Mu- 
sic :  "*  so  at  other  times  we  hear  of  "expert  minstrels  and  musicians 
of  tongue  and  cunning"  CB  b.  iii.  p.  4iS)t,  meaning  doubtless  by 
the  former  singers,  and  probably  by  the  latter  phrase  composers  of 
songs.  Even  "  minstrels  music"  seems  to  be  ajjplied  to  the  species 
of  verse  used  by  minstrels  in  the  passage  quoted  below.  J 

But  although  from  the  predominancy  of  instrumental  music  min- 
stralsy  was  at  length  chiefly  to  be  understood  in  this  sense,  yet  it 
was  still  applied  to  the  poetry  of  minstrels  so  late  as  the  time  of 
Queen  Elizabeth,  as  appears  in  the  follo\ving  extract  from  Putten- 
ham's  Arte  of  E/ig.  Foesic,  p.  9,  who,  speaking  of  the  first  com- 
posers of  Latin  verses  in  ryme,  says,  "  all  that  they  wrote  to  the 
favour  or  prayse  of  princes,  they  did  it  in  such  manner  of  min- 
stralsie  ;  and  thought  themselves  no  small  fooles,  when  they  could 
make  their  verses  go  all  in  ryme." 

I  shall  conclude  this  subject  with  the  following  description  of 
minstrelcy  given  by  John  Lidgate  at  the  beginning  of  the  fifteenth 
century,  as  it  shows  what  a  variety  of  entertainments  were  then 


*  T.  Warton,  ii.  258,  note  (a)  from  Leland's  Coilect.  vol.  iv.  ap- 
pend, edit.  1774,  p.  267. 

t  The  curious  author  of  the  Toiir  in  Wales,  1773,  4to.  p.  435,  I 
find  to  have  read  these  words,  "  in  toune  and  contrey ; "  which  I 
can  scarce  imagine  to  have  been  applicable  to  ^Vales  at  that  time. 
Nor  can  I  agree  with  him  in  the  representation  he  has  given  (p. 
367)  concerning  the  Cymmorth  or  meeting,  wherein  the  bards 
exerted  their  powers  to  excite  their  countrymen  to  war ;  as  if  it 
were  by  a  deduction  of  the  particulars  he  enumerates,  and,  as  it 
should  seem,  in  the  way  of  harangue,  &c.  After  which,  "  the  band 
of  minstrels  ....  struck  up ;  the  harp,  the  cnvth,  and  the  \^\\)t 
filled  the  measures  of  enthusiasm,  which  the  others  had  begun  to 
inspire."  \VTiereas  it  is  well  known  that  the  bard  chanted  his  en- 
thusiastic effusions  to  the  harp  ;  and  as  for  the  term  minstrel,  it 
was  not,  I  conceive,  at  all  used  by  the  Welsh  ;  and  in  English  it 
comprehended  both  the  bard  and  the  musician. 

\  "  Your  ordinarie  rimers  use  very  much  their  measures  in  the 
odde,  as  nine  and  eleven,  and  the  sharpe  accent  upon  the  last  sil- 
lable,  which  therefore  makes  him  go  ill  favouredly  and  like  a  min- 
strels musickc."  (Puttenham's  Ar/e  of  Ew^.  JWsie,  1589,  p.  59.) 
This  must  mean  his  vocal  music,  otherwise  it  appears  not  applicable 
to  the  subject. 


430  NOTES,    &c. 

comprehended  under  this  term,  together  with  every  kind  of  instru- 
mental music  then  in  use. 

"  Al  maner  Mynstralcye, 
That  any  man  kan  specifye. 
Ffor  there  were  Rotys  of  Ahnayne, 
And  eke  of  Arragon,  and  Spayne  : 
Songes,  Stampes,  and  eke  Daunces ; 
Divers  plente  of  plesaunces  : 
And  many  unkouth  notys  new 
Of  swiche  folke  as  lovid  treue.* 
And  instrumentys  that  did  excelle, 
Many  moo  than  I  kan  telle. 
Harpys,  Fythales,  and  eke  Rotys 
Well  according  to  her  \t.e.  their]  notys, 
Lutys,  Ribibles,  and  Getemes, 
More  for  estatys,  than  tavemes  : 
Orgay[n]s,  Cytolis,  Monacordys. — 
There  were  Trumpes,  and  Trumpettes, 
Lowde  Shall[m]ys,  and  Doucettes." 

T.  Warton,  ii.  225,  note  (*). 

1^  The  foregoing  essay  on  the  ancient  minstrels  has  been  very 
much  enlarged  and  improved  since  the  first  edition,  with  respect 
to  the  Anglo-Saxon  minstrels,  in  consequence  of  some  objections 
proposed  by  the  reverend  and  learned  Mr.  Pegge,  which  the  reader 
may  find  in  the  second  volume  of  the  Archccologia,  printed  by  the 
Antiquarian  Society :  but  which  that  gentleman  has  since  retracted 
in  the  most  liberal  and  candid  manner  in  the  third  volume  of  the 
ArchcEologia,  No.  xxxiv.  p.  310. 

And  in  consequence  of  similar  objections  respecting  the  English 
minstrels  after  the  Conquest,  the  subsequent  part  hath  been  much 
enlarged,  and  additional  light  thrown  upon  the  subject ;  which,  to 
prevent  cavil,  hath  been  extended  to  minstrelsy  in  all  its  branches, 
as  it  was  established  in  England,  whether  by  natives  or  for- 
eigners. 

[Ritson  made  a  searching  examination  of  this  essay,  and  dis- 
sented from  many  of  the  propositions  contained  in  it.  His  essay 
''  On  the  Ancient  English  Minstrels"  will  be  found  in  his  collection 
of  Ancient  Songs  and  Ballads^ 

*  By  this  phrase  I  understand  new  tales  or  narrative  rymes 
composed  by  the  minstrels  on  the  subject  of  true  and  faithful 
lovers,  &c. 


43^ 


APPENDIX  II. 

ON    THE    ORIGIN    OF    THE    ENGLISH 

STAGE,  cSic. 

I. 

^^^^f^"^  is  well  known  that  dramatic  poetry  in 
^^  this  and  most  other  nations  of  Europe 
^1  f^J  owes  its  origin,  or  at  least  its  revival,  to 
S^l;^  those  religious  shows  which  in  the  dark 
ages  were  usually  exhibited  on  the  more  solemn 
festivals.  At  those  times  they  were  wont  to  repre- 
sent in  the  churches  the  lives  and  miracles  of  the 
saints,  or  some  of  the  more  important  stones  of 
scripture.  And  as  the  most  mysterious  subjects 
were  frequendy  chosen,  such  as  the  Incarnation, 
Passion,  and  Resurrection  of  Christ,  &c.,  these  exhi- 
bitions acquired  the  general  name  of  mysteries.  At 
first  they  were  probably  a  kind  of  dumb  shews,  in- 
termingled, it  may  be,  with  a  few  short  speeches ;  at 
length  they  grew  into  a  regular  series  of  connected 
dialogues,  formally  divided  into  acts  and  scenes. 
Specimens  of  these  in  their  most  improved  state 
(being  at  best  but  poor  artless  compositions)  may  be 
seen  among  Dodsley's  0/d  Plays  and  in  Osborne's 
Ilarlcyan  Misccl.  How  they  were  exhibited  in  their 
most  simple  form  we  may  learn  from  an  ancient  novel, 
often  quoted  by  our  old  dramatic  poets  {a)  intitled 
.  ..."  a  merye  jest  of  a  man  that  was  callctl  Howle- 

a  See  Ben  Jonson's  Poetaster,  act  iii.  sc.  4,  and  his  AfaS(/ue  of 
the  Fortunate  Isles.     Whalkys  edit.  vol.  ii.  p.  49,  vol.  vi.  \).  190. 


432  ON    THE    ORIGIN    OF 

glas"  {6),  &c.,  being  a  translation  from  the  Dutch 
language,  in  which  he  is  named  Ulenspiegle.  Howie- 
glass,  whose  waggish  tricks  are  the  subject  of  this 
book,  after  many  adventures  comes  to  live  with  a 
priest,  who  makes  him  his  parish  clerk.  This  priest  is 
described  as  keeping  a  leman  or  concubine,  who  had 
but  one  eye,  to  whom  Howleglass  owed  a  grudge 
for  revealing  his  rogueries  to  his  master.  The  story 
thus  proceeds  :...."  And  than  in  the  meane  season, 
while  Howleglas  was  parysh  clarke,  at  Easter  they 
should  play  the  Resurrection  of  our  Lorde  :  and  for 
because  than  the  men  wer  not  learned,  nor  could 
not  read,  the  priest  toke  his  leman,  and  put  her  in 
the  grave  for  an  Aungell :  and  this  seing  Howle- 
glas, toke  to  hym  iij  of  the  symplest  persons  that 
were  in  the  towne,  that  played  the  iij  Maries ;  and 
the  Person  \i.e.  Parson  or  Rector]  played  Christe, 
with  a  baner  in  his  hand.  Than  saide  Howleglas  to 
the  symple  persons.  Whan  the  Aungel  asketh  you, 
whome  you  seke,  you  may  saye,  The  parsons  leman 
with  one  iye.  Than  it  fortuned  that  the  tyme  was 
come  that  they  must  playe,  and  the  Aungel  asked 
them  whom  they  sought,  and  than  sayd  they,  as 
Howleglas  had  shewed  and  lerned  them  afore,  and 
than  answered  they.  We  seke  the  priests  leman  with 
one  iye.  And  than  the  prieste  might  heare  that  he 
was  mocked.  And  whan  the  priestes  leman  herd 
that,  she  arose  out  of  the  grave,  and  would  have 
smyten  with  her  fist  Howleglas  upon  the  cheke,  but 
she  missed  him  and  smote  one  of  the  simple  persons 
that  played  one  of  the  thre  Maries  ;  and  he  gave  her 
another  ;  and  than  toke  she  him  by  the  heare  [hair]  ; 
and  that  seing  his  wyfe,  came  running  hastely  to 
smite  the  priestes  leaman  ;  and  than  the  priest  see- 

b  Howleglass  is  said  in  the  Preface  to  have  died  in  mccccl. 
At  the  end  of  the  book,  in  mcccl. 


THE    ENGLISH   STAGE. 


433 


ing  this,  caste  down  hys  baner  and  went  to  helpe  his 
woman,  so  that  the  one  gave  the  other  sore  strokes; 
and  made  great  noyse  in  the  churche.  And  than 
Howleglas  se)'ng  them  lyinge  together  by  the  eares 
in  the  bodi  of  the  churche,  went  his  way  out  of  the 
village,  and  came  no  more  there. "(r) 

As  the  old  mysteries  frequently  required  the  repre- 
sentation of  some  allegorical  personage,  such  as 
Death,  Sin,  Charity,  Faith,  and  the  like,  by  degrees 
the  rude  poets  of  those  unlettered  ages  began  to 
form  compleat  dramatic  pieces  consisting  entirely  of 
such  personifications.  These  they  intitled  moral 
plays,  or  moralities.  The  mysteries  were  very  inarti- 
ficial, representing  the  scripture  stories  simply  ac- 
cording to  the  letter.  But  the  moralities  are  not 
devoid  of  invention  :  they  exhibit  outlines  of  the 
dramatic  art ;  they  contain  something  of  a  fable  or 
plot,  and  even  attempt  to  delineate  characters  and 
manners.  I  have  now  before  me  two  that  were 
printed  early  in  the  reign  of  Henry  VIII.,  in  which, 
I  think,  one  may  plainly  discover  the  seeds  of 
tragedy  and  comedy,  for  which  reason  I  shall  give  a 
short  analysis  of  them  both. 

One  of  them  is  intitled  Every  Man.  {d)  The 
subject  of  this  piece  is  the  summoning  of  man  out 
of  the  world  by  death  ;  and  its  moral,  that  nothing 
will  then  avail  him  but  a  well-spent  life  and  the  com- 
forts of  religion.  This  subject  and  moral  are 
opened  in  a  monologue  spoken  by  the  Messenger 
(for  that  was  the  name  generally  given  by  our  ances- 
tors to  the  prologue  on  their  rude  stage)  ;  then  God 


(0  Imprynted  ...  by  VVyllyani  Copland :  without  date,  in  4to. 
bl.  let.  among  Mr.  Garrick's  old  plays,  K.  vol.  x. 

{d)  This  play  has  been  reprinted  by  Mr.  Hawkins  in  his  three 
vols,  of  old  i)Iays,  intitled.  The  On)^in  of  the  English  Drama, 
i2rao.  Oxford,  1773.     See  vol.  i.  p.  27. 

F  \ 


434  ON    THE    ORIGIN    OF 

{e)  is  represented,  who,  after  some  general  com- 
plaints on  the  degeneracy  of  mankind,  calls  for  Deth, 
and  orders  him  to  bring  before  his  tribunal  Every- 
man, for  so  is  called  the  personage  who  represents 
the  human  race.  Every-man  appears,  and  receives 
the  summons  with  all  the  marks  of  confusion  and 
terror.  When  Death  is  withdrawn  Every-man  ap- 
plies for  relief  in  this  distress  to  Fellowship,  Kindred, 
Goods,  or  Riches,  but  they  successively  renounce 
and  forsake  him.  In  this  disconsolate  state  he  be- 
takes himself  to  Good-dedes,  who,  after  upbraiding 
him  with  his  long  neglect  of  her,(y)  introduces  him 
to  her  sister  Knowledge,  and  she  leads  him  to  the 
"holy  man  Confession,"  who  appoints  him  penance  ; 
this  he  inflicts  upon  himself  on  the  stage,  and  then 
withdraws  to  receive  the  sacraments  of  the  priest. 
On  his  return  he  begins  to  wax  faint,  and  after 
Strength,  Beauty,  Discretion,  and  Five  Wits  {g) 
have  all  taken  their  final  leave  of  him,  gradually  ex- 
pires on  the  stage,  Good-dedes  still  accompanying 
him  to  the  last.  Then  an  Aungell  descends  to  sing 
his  requiem,  and  the  epilogue  is  spoken  by  a  person 
called  Doctour,  who  recapitulates  the  whole  and 
delivers  the  moral : — 

"  C.  This  memoriall  men  may  have  in  mynde, 

Ye  herers,  take  it  of  worth  old  and  yonge, 

And  forsake  Pryde,  for  he  disceyveth  you  in  thende, 

And  remembre  Beaute,  Five  Witts,  Strength  and  Discretion, 

They  all  at  last  do  Every-man  forsake ; 

Save  his  Good  Dedes  there  dothe  he  take ; 

But  beware,  for  and  they  be  small, 

Before  God  he  hath  no  helpe  at  all,"  &c. 


(<?)  The  second  person  of  the  Trinity  seems  to  be  meant. 

(/)  The  before-mentioned  are  male  characters. 

(^)  /.  e.  The  five  senses.  These  are  frequently  exhibited  as 
five  distinct  personages  upon  the  Spanish  stage  (see  Riccoboni,  p. 
98),  but  our  moralist  has  represented  them  all  by  one  character. 


THE    ENGLISH   STAGE.         435 

From  this  short  analysis  it  may  be  observed  that 
Every  Man  is  a  grave,  solemn  piece,  not  ^vithout 
some  rude  attempts  to  excite  terror  and  pity,  and 
therefore  may  not  improperly  be  referred  to  the  class 
of  tragedy.  It  is  remarkable  that  in  this  old  simple 
drama  the  fable  is  conducted  upon  the  strictest 
model  of  the  Greek  tragedy.  The  action  is  simply 
one,  the  time  of  action  is  that  of  the  performance, 
the  scene  is  never  chanored,  nor  the  stacre  ever 
empty.  Every-man,  the  hero  of  the  piece,  after  his 
first  appearance  never  withdraws,  except  when  he 
goes  out  to  receive  the  sacraments,  which  could  not 
well  be  exhibited  in  public,  and  during  his  absence 
Knowledge  descants  on  the  excellence  and  power  of 
the  priesthood,  somewhat  after  the  manner  of  the 
Greek  chorus.  And,  indeed,  except  in  the  circum- 
stance of  Every-man's  expiring  on  the  stage,  the 
Sampson  Agonistes  of  Milton  is  hardly  formed  on  a 
severer  plan.(//) 

The  other  play  is  intitled  Hick  Scorner,{i)  and 
bears  no  distant  resemblance  to  comedy  ;  its  chief 
aim  seems  to  be  to  exhibit  characters  and  manners, 
its  plot  being  much  less  regular  than  the  foregoing. 
The  prologue  is  spoken  by  Pity,  represented  under 
the  character  of  an  aged  pilgrim  ;  he  is  joined  by 
Contemplacyon  and  Perseverance,  two  holy  men, 
who,  after  lamenting  the  degeneracy  of  the  age, 
declare  their  resolution  of  stemming  the  torrent. 
Pity  then  is  left  upon  the  stage,  and  presently  found 
by  Prewyll,  representing  a  lewd  debauchee,  who, 
with  his  dissolute  companion  Imaginacion,  relate 
their  manner  of   life,   and   not  without  humour  de- 


(/t)  See  more  of  Every  Man  in  vol.  ii.  pref.  to  IJ.  ii.,  note. 

0)  "  Impryntcd  by  me  Wynkyn  dc  \Vorde,"nodate  ;  in  4to.  hi. 
let.  This  play  has  also  been  rcjirintcd  by  Mr.  Hawkins  in  liis 
Origin  of  the  English  Dratna,  vol.  i.  p.  69. 


436  ON    THE    ORIGIN    OF 

scribe  the  stews  and  other  places  of  base  resort. 
They  are  presently  joined  by  Hick-Scorner,  who  is 
drawn  as  a  libertine  returned  from  travel,  and,  agree- 
ably to  his  name,  scoffs  at  religion.  These  three  are 
described  as  extremely  vicious,  who  glory  in  every 
act  of  wickedness ;  at  length  two  of  them  quarrel, 
and  Pity  endeavours  to  part  the  fray ;  on  this  they 
fall  upon  him,  put  him  in  the  stocks,  and  there  leave 
him.  Pity,  thus  imprisoned,  descants  in  a  kind  of 
lyric  measure  on  the  profligacy  of  the  age,  and  in 
this  situation  is  found  by  Perseverance  and  Contem- 
placion,  who  set  him  at  liberty,  and  advise  him  to  go 
in  search  of  the  delinquents.  As  soon  as  he  is  gone 
Frewill  appears  again,  and,  after  relating  in  a  very 
comic  manner  some  of  his  rogueries  and  escapes 
from  justice,  is  rebuked  by  the  two  holy  men,  who, 
after  a  long  altercation,  at  length  convert  him  and 
his  libertine  companion  Imaginacioun  from  their 
vicious  course  of  life,  and  then  the  play  ends  with  a 
few  verses  from  Perseverance  by  way  of  epilogue. 
This  and  every  morality  I  have  seen  conclude  with 
a  solemn  prayer.  They  are  all  of  them  in  rhyme,  in 
a  kind  of  loose  stanza,  intermixed  with  distichs. 

It  would  be  needless  to  point  out  the  absurdities 
in  the  plan  and  conduct  of  the  foregoing  play ;  they 
are  evidently  great.  It  is  sufficient  to  observe  that 
bating  the  moral  and  religious  reflection  of  Pity,  etc., 
the  piece  is  of  a  comic  cast,  and  contains  a  humorous 
display  of  some  of  the  vices  of  the  age.  Indeed, 
the  author  has  generally  been  so  little  attentive  to 
the  allegory,  that  we  need  only  substitute  other  names 
to  his  personages,  and  we  have  real  characters  and 
living  manners. 

We  see  then  that  the  waiters  of  these  moralities 
were  upon  the  very  threshold  of  real  tragedy  and 
comedy,  and  therefore  we  are  not  to  wonder  that 
tragedies  and  comedies  in  form  soon  after  took  place, 


THE    ENGLISH    STAGE.         437 

especially  as  the  revival  of  learning  about  this  time 
brought  them  acquainted  with  the  Roman  and 
Grecian  models. 

II.  At  what  period  of  time  the  moralities  had 
their  rise  here  it  is  difficult  to  discover,  but  plays 
of  miracles  appear  to  have  been  exhibited  in  Eng- 
land soon  after  the  Conquest.  Matthew  Paris  tells 
us  that  Geoffrey,  afterwards  Abbot  of  St.  Albans,  a 
Norman,  who  had  been  sent  for  over  by  Abbot 
Richard  to  take  upon  him  the  direction  of  the  school 
of  that  monastery,  coming  too  late,  went  to  Dun- 
stable and  taught  in  the  Abby  there,  where  he 
caused  to  be  acted  (probably  by  his  scholars)  a  mir- 
acle-play of  St.  Catharine,  composed  by  himself,  {a) 
This  was  long  before  the  year  11 19,  and  probably 
within  the  eleventh  century.  The  above  play  of 
St.  Catharine  was,  for  aught  that  appears,  the  first 
spectacle  of  this  sort  that  was  exhibited  in  these 
kingdoms,  and  an  eminent  French  writer  thinks  it 
was  even  the  first  attempt  towards  the  revival  of 
dramatic  entertainments  in  all  Europe,  being  long 
before  the  representations  of  mysteries  in  France, 
for  these  did  not  begin  till  the  year  i398.(<^) 

But  whether  they  derived  their  origin  from  the 
above  exhibition  or  not,  it  is  certain  that  holy  plays, 
representing    the    miracles    and    sufferings    of    the 


{a)  "Apud  Dunestapliam  ....  quendam  luduni  de  sancta 
Katcrina  ((luem  miracula  vulgariter  ap])el]amus)  fecit.  Ad  quae  de- 
coranda,  |)otiit  a  sacrista  sancti  Albani,  lit  sibi  Capa;  Chorales  ac- 
commodarentur,  et  obtinuit.  Kt  fuit  Indus  ille  de  sancta  Katcrina.' 
VitcE  Abbat.  ad  fin.  Hist.  Mat.  Paris,  fol.  1639,  p.  56.  We  see  here 
that  plays  of  miracles  were  become  common  enough  in  the  time 
of  Mat.  Paris,  who  flourished  about  i  240.  But  that  indeed  ajjpears 
from  the  more  early  writings  of  Fitz-Stephens :  (juoted  below. 

{b)  Vid.  Abrcge  Chron.  de  mist,  de  France,  par  M.  Henault,  .^ 
I'ann.  1 179. 


438  ON    THE    ORIGIN    OF 

saints,  were  become  common  in  the  reign  of  Henry 
II.,  and  a  lighter  sort  of  interludes  appear  not  to 
have  been  then  unknown. (^)  In  the  subsequent 
age  of  Chaucer,  "  Plays  of  Miracles  "  in  Lent  were 
the  common  resort  of  idle  gossips. (^) 

They  do  not  appear  to  have  been  so  prevalent  on 
the  Continent,  for  the  learned  historian  of  the  Coun- 
cil of  Constance (^)  ascribes  to  the  English  the  in- 
troduction of  plays  into  Germany.  He  tells  us  that 
the  Emperor,  having  been  absent  from  the  Council 
for  some  time,  was  at  his  return  received  with  great 
rejoicings,  and  that  the  English  fathers  in  particular 
did  upon  that  occasion  cause  a  sacred  comedy  to  be 
acted  before  him  on  Sunday,  Jan.  31,  141 7,  the 
subjects  of  which  were  : — "  The  Nativity  of  our 
Saviour;"  "The  Arrival  of  the  Eastern  Magi;" 
and  "  The  Massacre  by  Herod."  Thence  it  appears, 
says  this  writer,  that  the  Germans  are  obliged  to  the 
English  for  the  invention  of  this  sort  of  spectacles, 
unknown  to  them  before  that  period. 

The  fondness  of  our  ancestors  for  dramatic  exhi- 
bitions of  this   kind,   and  some  curious  particulars 

{c)  See  Fitz-Stephens's  description  of  London,  preserved  by  Stow 
(and  reprinted  with  notes,  &c.,  by  the  Rev.  Mr.  Pegge,  in  1774, 
4to.) :  "  Londonia  pro  spectacuhs  theatraUbus,  pro  ludis  scenicis, 
ludos  habet  sanctiores,  representationes  miraculorum,"  &c.  He 
is  thought  to  have  written  in  the  reign  of  Henry  H.  and  to  have 
died  in  that  of  Richard  I.  It  is  true  at  the  end  of  this  book  we 
find  mentioned  Henricum  regent  terthim ;  but  this  is  doubtless 
Henry  II. 's  son,  who  was  crowned  during  the  life  of  his  father,  in 
1 1 70,  and  is  generally  distinguished  as  Rexjuvenis,  Rexjilius,a.nd 
sometimes  they  were  jointly  named  Reges  Afiglice.  From  a  pas- 
sage in  his  chap.  De  Reltgiofie,  it  should  seem  that  the  body  of  St. 
Thomas  Becket  was  just  then  a  new  acquisition  to  the  church  of 
Canterbury. 

{d)  See  prologue  to   Wife  of  Bath's  Tale,  v.  6137,  Tyrwhitt's 
ed. 

{e)  M.  L'enfant,  vid.   Hist,   du  Cone,  de    Constance,  vol.  ii.  p. 
440. 


THE    ENGLISH    STAGE.         439 

relating  to  this  subject,  will  appear  from  the  Hotis- 
hold  Book  of  the  fifth  Earl  of  Northumberland,  a.d. 
1 5 1 2,(y")  whence  I  shall  select  a  few  extracts  which 
show  that  the  exhibiting  Scripture  dramas  on  the 
ereat  festivals  entered  into  the  re^rular  establishment, 
and  formed  part  of  the  domestic  regulations  of  our 
ancient  nobility,  and,  what  is  more  remarkable,  that 
it  was  as  much  the  business  of  the  chaplain  in  those 
days  to  compose  plays  for  the  family  as  it  is  now  for 
him  to  make  sermons. 

"  My   Lordes   Chapleyns    in    Household   vj.    viz. 
The  Almonar,  and  if  he  be  a  maker  of  Interludys, 
than  he  to  have  a  servaunt  to  the  intent  for  writynge 
of  the  parts  ;  and  ells  to  have  non.     The  maister  of 
gramer,  &c."  Sect.  v.  p.  44. 

"  Item,  my  lorde  usith  and  accustomyth  to  gyf 
yerely  if  his  lordship  kepe  a  chapell  and  be  at  home, 
them  of  his  lordschipes  chapell,  if  they  doo  play  the 
Play  of  the  Nativitc  uppon  cristynmes  day  in  the 
mornnynge  in  my  lords  chapell  befor  his  lordship — 
xxJ."  Sect.  xliv.  p.  343. 

"  Item,  ....  to  them  of  his  lordship  chappell 
and  other  his  lordshipis  servaunts  that  doith  play 
the  Play  befor  his  lordship  uppon  Shrof-Tewsday  at 
night  yerely  in  reward — xj."  Ibid.  p.  345. 

"Item,  ...  to  them  ....  that  playth  the  Play 
of  Resurrection  upon  estur  day  in  the  mornnynge  in 
my  lordis  'chapell'  befor  his  lordshipe — xxj." 

Ibid. 


(/)  The  Re^Jilations  and  Establishments  of  the  Hoiishold  of 
Hen.  Al^.  Percy,  ^th  Earl  of  Northutnb.  I.ond.  1770,  8vo. 
whereof  a  small  impression  was  printed  by  order  of  the  late  Duke 
and  Duchess  of  Northumberland  to  bestow  in  presents  to  their 
friends.  Although  begun  in  15 12,  some  of  the  regulations  were 
composed  so  late  as  1525. 


440  ON    THE    ORIGIN    OF 

"  Item,  My  lorde  useth  and  accustomyth  yerly  to 
gyf  hym  which  is  ordynede.  to  be  the  Master  of  the 
Revells  yerly  in  my  lordis  hous  in  cristmas  for  the 
overseyinge  and  orderinge  of  his  lordschips  Playes, 
Interludes  and  Dresinge  that  is  plaid  befor  his  lord- 
ship in  his  hous  in  the  xijth  dayes  of  Cristenmas  and 
they  to  have  in  rewarde  for  that  caus  yerly — xxj." 

Ibid.  p.  346. 

"Item,  My  lorde  useth  and  accustomyth  to  gyf 
every  of  the  iiij  Parsones  that  his  lordschip  admyted 
as  his  Players  to  com  to  his  lordship  yerly  at 
Cristynmes  ande  at  all  other  such  tymes  as  his  lord- 
ship shall  comande  them  for  playing  of  Playe  and 
Interludes  affor  his  lordship  in  his  lordshipis  hous 
for  every  of  their  fees  for  an  hole  yere.  ..." 

Ibid.  p.  351. 

"  Item,  to  be  payd  ...  for  rewards  to  Players 
for  Playes  playd  in  Christynmas  by  Stranegeres  in 
my  house  after  xxd.(£-)  every  play,  by  estimacion 
somme — xxxiijV.  iiij. (//)."  Sect.  i.  p.  22. 

"  Item,  My  Lorde  usith,  and  accustometh  to  gif 
yerely  when  his  Lordshipp  is  at  home,  to  every  erlis 
Players  that  comes  to  his  Lordshipe  betwixt  Cristyn- 
mas  ande  Candelmas,  if  he  be  his  special  Lorde  & 
Frende  &  Kynsman — xxs."         Sect,  xliiii.  p.  340. 

"  Item,  My  Lorde  usith  and  accustomyth  to  gyf 
yerely,  when  his  Lordship  is  at  home  to  every 
Lordis  Players,  that  comyth  to  his  Lordshipe  be- 
twixt Crystynmas  and  Candilmas — xs."  Ibid. 

The  reader  will  observe  the  great  difference  in  the 

{g)  This  was  not  so  small  a  sum  then  as  it  may  now  appear.; 
for,  in  another  part  of  this  MS.  the  price  ordered  to  be  given  for  a 
fat  ox  is  but  13J.  \d.  and  for  a  lean  one  8^-. 

(Ji)  At  this  rate  the  number  of  plays  acted  must  have  been 
twenty. 


THE    ENGLISH    STAGE.         441 

rewards  here  given  to  such  players  as  were  retainers 
of  noble  personages  and  such  as  are  stiled  strangers, 
or,  as  we  may  suppose,  only  strolers. 

The  profession  of  a  common  player  was  about 
this  time  held  by  some  in  low  estimation.  In  an  old 
satire  intitled  Cock  Lorrcles  Bote{i)  the  author, 
enumerating  the  most  common  trades  or  callings,  as 
"  carpenters,  coopers,  joyners,"  &c.,  mentions — 

"  Players,  purse-cutters,  money-batterers, 
Golde-washers,  tomblers,  jogelers, 
Pardoners,  &c."  Sign.  B.  vj. 

Ill,  It  hath  been  observed  already  th^t  plays  of 
miracles,  or  mysteries,  as  they  were  called,  led  to  the 
introduction  of  moral  plays,  or  moralities,  which  pre- 
vailed so  early  and  became  so  common  that  towards 
the  latter  end  of  K.  Henry  VI I. 's  reign  John  Rastel, 
brother-in-law  to  Sir  Thomas  More,  conceived  a 
'design  of  making  them  the  vehicle  of  science  and 
natural  philosophy.  With  this  view  he  published. 
A  new  interlude  and  a  mery  of  the  nature  of  the 
iiii.  elements  declarynge  many  proper  poiyits  of  phi- 
losophy naturall,  and  of  dyvers  straunge  landys  {a), 


(J)  Pr.  at  the  Sun  in  Fleet-str.  by  W.  do  Worde,  no  date,  b.  1. 
4to. 

((/)  Mr.  Garrick  has  an  imperfect  copy  {Old  Plays,  i.  vol.  iii.). 
The  Dramatis  Personns  are :  "  The  Messenger  [or  Prologue]. 
Nature  naturate.  Humanyte.  Studyous  Desire.  Sensuall  Appe- 
tyte.  The  Tavemer.  Experyence.  Ygnoraunce.  (Also  yf  ye 
lyste  ye  may  brynge  in  a  dysgysynge.)"  Afterwards  follows  a  table 
of  the  matters  handled  in  the  interlude  ;  among  which  are  :  "Of 
certeyn  conclusions  prouvynge  the  yerthe  must  nedes  be  rounde, 

and  that  yt  is  in  circumference  above    xxi.   M.  myle." "  Of 

certeyne  points  of  rosmographye — and  of  dyvers  straunge  regyons, 
— and  of  the  new  founde  landys  and  the  maner  of  the  people." 
This  part  is  extremely  curious,  as  it  shews  what  notions  were  en- 
tertained of  the  new  American  discoveries  by  our  own  country- 
men. 


442 


ON    THE    ORIGIN    OF 


&c.     It  is  observable  that  the  poet  speaks  of  the 
discovery  of  America  as  then  recent : 

"  Within  this  xx  yere 


Westwarde  be  founde  new  landes 

That  we  never  harde  tell  of  before  this,"  &c. 

The  West  Indies  were  discovered  by  Columbus 
in  1492,  which  fixes  the  writing  of  this  play  to  about 
1 5 10  (two  years  before  the  date  of  the  above  Hous- 
hold  Book).  The  play  of  Hick-Scorner  was  pro- 
bably somewhat  more  ancient,  as  he  still  more  im- 
perfecdy  alludes  to  the  American  discoveries,  under 
the  name  of  "the  Newe  founde  Ilonde."     [Sign.  A. 

vij.] 

It  is  observable  that  in  the  older  moralities,  as  in 
that  last  mentioned.  Every -man,  &c.,  is  printed  no 
kind  of  stage  direction  for  the  exits  and  entrances  of 
the  personages,  no  division  of  acts  and  scenes.  But 
in  the  moral  interlude  of  Lusty  Juventus,{b)  written 
under  Edward  VI.  the  exits  and  entrances  begin  to 
be  noted  in  the  margin. (^)  At  length  in  O.  Eliza- 
beth's reign  moralities  appeared  formally  divided 
into  acts  and  scenes  with  a  regular  prologue,  &c. 
One  of  these  is  reprinted  by  Dodsley. 

Before  we  quit  this  subject  of  the  very  early 
printed  plays,  it  may  just  be  observed  that  although 
so  few  are  now  extant  it  should  seem  many  were 
printed  before  the  reign  of  Q.  Elizabeth,  as  at  the 
beginning  of  her  reign  her  injunctions  in  1559  are 
particularly  directed  to  the  suppressing  of   "many 


(J})  Described  in  vol.  ii.  preface  to  book  ii.  The  Dramatis 
Personse  of  this  piece  are  :  "  Messenger,  Lusty  Juventus,  Good 
Counsail,  Knowledge,  Sathan  the  devyll,  Hypocrisie,  Fellowship, 
Abominable-lyving  [an  Harlot],  God's-merciful-promises." 

{c)  I  have  also  discovered  some  few  exeats  and  intrats  in  the 
very  old  interlude  of  the  Four  Elements. 


THE    ENGLISH   STAGE.         443 

Pamphlets,  Playes,  and  Ballads ;  that  no  manner  of 

person  shall  enterprize  to  print  any  such,  &c."  but 

under  certain  restrictions.     Vid.  Sect.  V. 

In  the  time  of  Hen.  VIII.  one  or  two  dramatic 

pieces  had  been  published  under  the  classical  names 

of  comedy  and  tragedy,  (^/)  but  they  appear  not  to 

have  been  intended  for  popular  use.      It  was  not  till 

the  religious  ferments  had  subsided  that  the  public 

had  leisure  to  attend   to   dramatic  poetry.     In   the 

reien  of  Elizabeth  tragedies  and  comedies  began  to 

11 
appear  in  form,  and  could  the  poets  have  persevered 

the  hrst  models  were  good.  Gorboduc,  a  regular 
traL,^edy,  was  acted  in  1561  ;(^)  and  Gascoigne,  in 
1566,  exhibited  Jocasta,  a  translation  from  Euri- 
pides, as  also  The  Supposes,  a  regular  comedy  from 
Ariosto,  near  thirty  years  before  any  of  Shake- 
speare's were  printed. 

The  people,  however,  still  retained  a  relish  for  their 
old  mysteries  and  moralities, (/)  and  the  popular 
dramatic  poets  seem  to  have  made  them  their 
models.  From  the  graver  sort  of  moralities  our 
modern  tragedy  appears  to  have  derived  its  origin, 
as    our   comedy    evidently    took    its    rise  from    the 


{(i)  Bp.  Bale  had  applied  the  name  of  tragedy  to  his  mystery 
of  Gods  Promises,  in  1538.  In  1540  John  Palsgrave,  B.D.,  had 
republished  a  Latin  comedy,  called  Acolastiis,  with  an  English  ver- 
sion. Holinshed  tells  us  (vol.  iii.  p.  850),  that  so  early  as  1520, 
the  king  had  "a  good  comedie  of  Plautus  plaied"  before  hnn  at 
Greenwich ;  but  this  was  in  Latin,  as  Mr.  Farmer  informs  us  in  his 
curious  Essay  on  the  Learning  of  Shakespeare,  8vo.  p.  31- 

(e)  See  Ames,  p.  316.  This  play  appears  to  have  been  first 
printed  under  the  name  of  Gorboduc,  then  under  that  of  Ferrex 
and  Porrex,m  1569;  and  again  under  Gorboduc,  1590.  Ames 
calls  the  first  edition  quarto  ;  Langbaine,  octavo :  and  Tanner, 
1  2mo. 

(/)  The  general  recei)tion  the  old  moralities  had  ujion  the 
stage  will  account  for  the  fondness  of  all  our  first  poets  for  alle- 
gory.    Subjects  of  this  kind  were  familiar  with  every  one. 


444  ON    THE    ORIGIN    OF 

lighter  interludes  of  that  kind.  And  as  most  of 
these  pieces  contain  an  absurd  mixture  of  religion 
and  buffoonery,  an  eminent  critic  (^)  has  well  de- 
duced from  thence  the  origin  of  our  unnatural  tragi- 
comedies. Even  after  the  people  had  been  accus- 
tomed to  tragedies  and  comedies  moralities  still 
kept  their  ground.  One  of  them,  intitled  The  New 
Custom,{k)  was  printed  so  late  as  1573.  At  length 
they  assumed  the  name  of  masques,  (e)  and  with 
some  classical  improvements,  became  in  the  two 
following  reigns  the  favourite  entertainments  of  the 
Court. 

IV.  The  old  mysteries,  which  ceased  to  be  acted 
after  the  Reformation,  appear  to  have  given  birth  to 
a  third  species  of  stage  exhibition,  which,  though 
now  confounded  with  tragedy  and  comedy,  were  by 
our  first  dramatic  writers  considered  as  quite  dis- 
tinct from  them  both.  These  were  historical  plays 
or  histories,  a  species  of  dramatic  writing  which  re- 
sembled the  old  mysteries  in  representing  a  series 
of  historical  events  simply  in  the  order  of  time  in 
which  they  happened,  without  any  regard  to  the 
three  great  unities.  These  pieces  seem  to  differ 
from  tragedies  just  as  much  as  historical  poems  do 
from  epic  :  as  the  Pharsalia  does  from  the  ^Eneid. 

What  might  contribute  to  make  dramatic  poetry 
take  this  form  was,  that  soon  after  the  mysteries 
ceased  to  be  exhibited,  was  published  a  large  collec- 
tion of  poetical  narratives,  called  The  Mirrour  for 
Magistrates,  (a)    wherein    a   great    number   of    the 


(g)  Bp.  Warburt.  Shakesp.  vol.  v. 

ih)  Reprinted  among  Dodsle/s  Old  Flays,  vol.  i. 

{i)  In  some  of  these  appeared  characters  full  as  extraordinary 
as  in  any  of  the  old  moraHties.  In  Ben  Jonson's  masque  of 
Christmas,  161 6,  one  of  the  personages  is  Minced  Pye. 

{a)  The  first  part  of  which  was  printed  in  1559. 


THE    ENGLISH   STAGE.        445 

most  eminent  characters  in  English  history  are 
drawn  relating  their  own  misfortunes.  This  book 
was  popular,  and  of  a  dramatic  cast ;  and  therefore, 
as  an  elegant  writer  {I?)  has  well  observed,  might 
have  its  influence  in  producing  historical  plays. 
These  narratives  probably  furnished  the  subjects, 
and  the  ancient  mysteries  suggested  the  plan. 

There  appears  indeed  to  have  been  one  instance 
of  an  attempt  at  an  historical  play  itself,  which  was 
perhaps  as  early  as  any  mystery  on  a  religious 
subject,  for  such,  I  think,  we  may  pronounce  the 
representation  of  a  memorable  event  in  English 
history,  that  was  expressed  in  actions  and  rhimes. 
This  was  the  old  Coventry  play  of  Hock-Tues- 
day,(r)  founded  on  the  story  of  the  massacre  of  the 
Danes,  as  it  happened  on  St.  Brice's  night,  Novem- 
ber 13,  1002. (rtf)  The  play  in  question  was  per- 
formed by  certain  men  of  Coventry,  among  the 
other  shews  and  entertainments  at  Kenelworth 
Castle,  in  July,  1575,  prepared  for  Queen  Eliza- 
beth, and  this  the  rather  "  because  the  matter 
mentioneth  how  valiantly  our  English  women,  for 
the  love  of  their  country,  behaved  themselves." 

The  writer,  whose  words  are  here  quoted, (r)  hath 
given  a  short  description  of  the  performance,  which 
seems  on  that  occasion  to  have  been  without  recita- 


{b)  Catal.  of  Royal  and  Noble  authors,  vol.  i.  p.  166-7. 

{c)  This  must  not  be  confounded  with  the  mysteries  acted  on 
Corpus  Christi  Day  by  the  Franciscans  at  Coventry,  which  were 
also  called  Coventry  Plays,  and  of  which  an  account  is  given  from 
T.  Warton's  Hist,  of  Eng.  Poetry,  Sec,  in  Malone's  S/iakesp.  vol. 
ii.  part  ii.  p.  13-14. 

{d)  Not  1012,  as  printed  in  Laneham's  Letter,  mentioned  below. 

(e)  Ro.  Laneham,  whose  letter,  containing  a  full  description  of 
the  shows,  &c.,  is  reprinted  at  large  in  Nichols's  Proi^resscs  of  Q. 
Elizabeth,  &c.,  vol.  i.  410.  1788.  That  writer's  orthography  being 
peculiar  and  affected,  is  not  here  followed. 


446  ON    THE    ORIGIN    OF 

tion  or  rhimes,  and  reduced  to  meer  dumb-show  ; 
consisting  of  violent  skirmishes  and  encounters,  first 
between  Danish  and  English  "  lance-knights  on 
horseback,"  armed  with  spear  and  shield,  and  after- 
wards between  "  hosts"  of  footmen,  which  at  length 
ended  in  the  Danes  being  "  beaten  down,  overcome, 
and  many  led  captive  by  our  English  women. "(/") 

This  play,  it  seems,  which  was  wont  to  be  ex- 
hibited in  their  city  yearly,  and  which  had  been  of 
great  antiquity  and  long  continuance  there,(^)  had 
of  late  been  suppressed  at  the  instance  of  some  well- 
meaning  but  precise  preachers,  of  whose  "  sour- 
ness "  herein  the  townsmen  complain,  urging  that 
their  play  was  "  without  example  of  ill-manners,  pa- 
pistry, or  any  superstition  ;"  (//)  which  shews  it  to 
have  been  entirely  distinct  from  a  religious  mys- 
tery. ('")  But  having  been  discontinued,  and,  as 
appears  from  the  narrative,  taken  up  of  a  sudden 
after  the  sports  were  begun,  the  players  apparently 
had  not  been  able  to  recover  the  old  rhimes,  or  to 
procure  new  ones  to  accompany  the  action  :  which, 
if  it  originally  represented  "  the  outrage  and  im- 
portable insolency  of  the  Danes,  the  grievous  com- 
plaint of  Huna,  king  Ethelred's  chieftain  in  wars,"(t) 


(/)  Laneham,  p.  37.  {g)  Ibid.  p.  t,^. 

(k)  3id. 

(*)  Laneham  describes  this  play  of  ITock  Tuesday,  which  was 
"  presented  in  an  historical  cue  by  certain  good-hearted  men  of 
Coventry"  (p.  32),  and  which  was  "wont  to  be  play'd  in  their 
citie  yearly  "  (p.  33),  as  if  it  were  peculiar  to  them,  terming  it 
"their  old  storial  show"  (p.  32).  And  so  it  might  be  as  repre- 
sented and  expressed  by  them  "  after  their  manner  "  (p.  2,2>)  '•  ^1" 
though  we  are  also  told  by  Bevil  Higgons,  that  St.  Brice's  Eve  was 
still  celebrated  by  the  northern  English  in  commemoration  of  this 
massacre  of  the  Danes,  the  women  beating  brass  instruments,  and 
singing  old  rhimes,  in  praise  of  their  cruel  ancestors.  See  his 
Short  View  of  Eng.  History,  8vo.  p.  1 7.  (The  preface  is  dated 
1734.)  (t) /<5/^.  p.  32. 


THE    ENGLISH    STAGE.         447 

his  counselling  and  contriving  the  plot  to  dispatch 
them,  concluding  with  the  contiicts  above  mentioned, 
and  their  final  suppression — "  expressed  in  actions 
and  rhimes  after  their  manner,"(/)  one  can  hardly 
conceive  a  more  regular  model  of  a  compleat  drama; 
and,  if  taken  up  soon  after  the  event,  it  must  have 
been  the  earliest  of  the  kind  in  Europe. (f) 

Whatever  this  old  play,  or  "  storial  show,"  (/•)  was 
at  the  time  it  was  exhibited  to  O.  Elizabeth,  it  had 
probably  our  young  Shakespeare  for  a  spectator,  who 
was  then  in  his  twelfth  year,  and  doubtless  attended 
with  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  surrounding  country  at 
these  "  princely  pleasures  of  Kenelworth,"(/)  whence 
Stratford  is  only  a  few  miles  distant.  And  as  the 
Queen  was  much  diverted  with  the  Coventry  play, 
"  whereat  her  Majestic  laught  well,"  and  rewarded  the 
performers  with  two  bucks,  and  five  marks  in  money, 
who,  "  \vhat  rejoicing  upon  their  ample  reward,  and 
what  triumphing  upon  the  good  acceptance,  vaunted 
their  play  was  never  so  dignified,  nor  ever  any 
players  before  so  beatified  ;"  but  especially  if  our 
young  bard  afterwards  gained  admittance  into  the 
castle  to  see  a  play,  which  the  same  evening,  after 
supper,  was  there  "  presented  of  a  very  good  theme, 
but  so  set  forth  by  the  actors'  well  handling,  that 
pleasure  and  mirth  made  it  seem  very  short,  though 
it  lasted  two  good  hours  and  xnorQ'Xm)  we  may 
imagine  what  an  impression  was  made  on  his  infant 
mind.  Indeed  the  dramatic  cast  of  many  parts  of 
that  superb  entertainment  which  continued  nineteen 

(/)  T..ineham,  p.  33. 

(t)  The  Rhiiitcs,  &c.,  prove  this  play  to  have  been  in  English  : 
whereas  Mr.  Tho.  Warton  thinks  the  mysteries  composed  before 
1328  were  in  Latin.     Malone's  Shakesp.  vol.  ii.  pt.  ii.  p.  9. 

(k)  Laneham,  p.  32. 

(/)  See  Nichols's  Progresses,  vol.  i.  p.  57. 

\rn)  Laneham,  p.  38-39.     This  was  on  Sunday  evening,  July  9. 


448  ON    THE    ORIGIN    OF 

days,  and  was  the  most  splendid  of  the  kind  ever 
attempted  in  this  kingdom  ;  the  addresses  to  the 
Queen  in  the  personated  characters  of  a  sybille,  a 
savage  man,  and  Sylvanus,  as  she  approached  or 
departed  from  the  castle,  and  on  the  water  by  Arion, 
a  Triton,  or  the  Lady  of  the  Lake,  must  have  had  a 
very  great  effect  on  a  young  imagination  whose 
dramatic  powers  were  hereafter  to  astonish  the 
world. 

But  that  the  historical  play  was  considered  by  our 
old  writers,  and  by  Shakespeare  himself,  as  distinct 
from  tragedy  and  comedy,  will  sufficiently  appear 
from  various  passages  in  their  works.  *'  Of  late 
days,"  says  Stow,  "  in  place  of  those  stage-playes 
{f^  hath  been  used  comedies,  tragedies,  enterludes, 
and  histories  both  true  and  fayned."(d?)  Beaumont 
and  Fletcher,  in  the  prologue  to  The  Captain,  say  : 

"  This  is  nor  Comedy,  nor  Tragedy, 
Nor  History." 

Polonius  in  Hamlet  commends  the  actors  as  the 
best  in  the  world,  "  either  for  tragedie,  comedie,  his- 
toric, pastorall,"  &c.  And  Shakespeare's  friends, 
Heminge  and  Condell,  in  the  first  folio  edit,  of 
his  plays,  in  i62  3,(/')  have  not  only  intitled  their 
book  "  Mr.  William  Shakespeare's  Comedies,  His- 
tories, and  Tragedies,"  but  in  their  table  of  con- 
tents have  arranged  them  under  those  three  several 
heads ;  placing  in  the  class  of  histories  "  K.  John, 
Richard  IL   Henry  IV.    2  pts.    Henry  V.    Henry 


(m)  The  Creation  of  the  World,  acted  at  Skinner's-well  in  1409. 

(0)  See  Stow's  Survey  of  London,  1603,  4to.  p.  94  (said  in  the 
title-page  to  be  "written  in  the  year  1598").  See  also  Warton's 
Observations  on  Spenser,  vol.  ii.  p.  109. 

(/)  The  same  distinction  is  continued  in  the  second  and  third 
folios,  &c. 


THE    ENGLISH    STAGE.        449 

VI.  3  pts.  Rich.  III.  and  Henry  VIII.",  to  which 
they  might  have  added  such  of  his  other  plays  as 
have  their  subjects  taken  from  the  old  chronicles,  or 
Plutarch's  Lives. 

Although  Shakespeare  is  found  not  to  have  been 
the  first  who  invented  this  species  of  drama,(^)  yet 
he  cultivated  it  with  such  superior  success,  and 
threw  upon  this  simple  inartificial  tissue  of  scenes 
such  a  blaze  of  genius,  that  his  histories  maintain 
their  ground  in  defiance  of  Aristotle  and  all  the 
critics  of  the  classic  school,  and  will  ever  continue 
to  interest  and  instruct  an  English  audience. 

Before  Shakespeare  wrote,  historical  plays  do  not 
appear  to  have  attained  this  distinction,  being  not 
mentioned  in   O.   Elizabeth's  licence  in   I574(;')   to 
James  Burbage  and  others,  who  are  only  impowered 
"  to  use,  exercyse,  and  occupie  the  arte  and  facul- 
tye  of  playenge  Commedies,  Tragedies,  Enterludes, 
Stage-Playes,    and    such    other   like."       But    when 
Shakespeare's  histories  had  become  the  ornaments 
of  the  stage,  they  were  considered  by  the  publick,  and 
by  himself,  as  a  formal  and  necessary   species,   and 
are   thenceforth    so   distinguished   in   public   instru- 
ments.   They  are  particularly  inserted  in  the  licence 
granted  by  K.  James   I.   in   1603,(5)  to  W.  Shake- 
speare himself,  and  the  players  his  fellows  ;  who  are 
authorized  "  to  use  and  exercise  the  arte  and  faculty 
of  playing  Comedies,    Tragedies,    Histories,    Inter- 
ludes,   Morals,    Pastorals,    Stage- Plaies,    and    such 
like." 

The  same  merited  distinction  they  continued  to 
maintain  after  his  death,  till  the  theatre  itself  was 
extinguished  :  for  they  are  expressly  mentioned  in  a 
warrant  in    1622,  for  licensing  certain  "  late  Come- 


{q)  See  Malone's  Shakesp.  vol.  i.  pari  ii.  p.  31 
(r)  Ibid.  p.  37.  {.s)  Ibid.  p.  40. 

G  G 


450  ON    THE    ORIGIN    OF 

dians  of  Q.  Anne  deceased,  to  bring  up  children  in 
the  qualitie  and  exercise  of  playing  Comedies,  His- 
tories, Interludes,  Morals,  Pastorals,  Stage-Plaies,  and 
such  like."(")  The  same  appears  in  an  admonition 
issued  in  1637  if)  by  Philip,  Earl  of  Pembroke  and 
Montgomery,  then  Lord  Chamberlain,  to  the  master 
and  wardens  of  the  Company  of  Printers  and  Sta- 
tioners, wherein  is  set  forth  the  complaint  of  his 
Majesty's  servants  the  players,  that  "  diverse  of 
their  books  of  Comedyes  and  Tragedyes,  Chronicle- 
Historyes,  and  the  like,"  had  been  printed  and  pub- 
lished to  their  prejudice,  &c. 

This  distinction,  we  see,  prevailed  for  near  half 
a  century ;  but  after  the  Restoration,  when  the 
stage  revived  for  the  entertainment  of  a  new  race 
of  auditors,  many  of  whom  had  been  exiled  in 
France,  and  formed  their  taste  from  the  French 
theatre,  Shakespeare's  histories  appear  to  have 
been  no  longer  relished ;  at  least  the  distinction 
respecting  them  is  dropt  in  the  patents  that  were 
immediately  granted  after  the  king's  return. 

This  appears  not  only  from  the  allowance  to 
Mr.  William  Beeston  in  June,  i66o,(?/;)  to  use 
the  house  in  Salisbury-court  "  for  a  Play-house, 
wherein  Comedies,  Tragedies,  Tragi-comedies,  Pas- 
toralls,  and  Interludes,  may  be  acted,"  but  also  from 
the    fuller   grant    (dated    August    21,    i76o),(z/)   to 

(*)  See  Malone's  Shakesp.  vol.  i.  part  ii.  p.  49.  Here  histories, 
or  historical  plays,  are  found  totally  to  have  excluded  the  mention 
of  tragedies ;  a  proof  of  their  superior  popularity.  In  an  order  for 
the  King's  comedians  to  attend  King  Charles  I.  in  his  summer's 
progress,  1636  {ibid.  p.  144),  histories  are  not  particularly  men- 
tioned ;  but  so  neither  are  tragedies :  they  being  briefly  directed 
to  "  act  playes,  comedyes,  and  interludes,  without  any  lett,"  &c. 

if)  Ibid.  p.  139. 

{u)  This  is  beheved  to  be  the  date  by  Mr.  Malone,  vol.  ii. 
part  ii.  p.  239. 

{v)  Ibid.  p.  244. 


THE    ENGLISH    STAGE.        451 

Thomas  Kllligrew,  Esq.,  and  Sir  William  Davenant, 
Knt.,  by  which  they  have  authority  to  erect  two 
companies  of  players,  and  to  fit  up  two  theatres  "  for 
the  representation  of  Tragydies,  Comedyes,  Playes, 
Operas,  and  all  other  entertainments  of  that  nature." 

But  while  Shakespeare  was  the  favourite  dramatic 
poet,  his  histories  had  such  superior  merit  that  he 
might  well  claim  to  be  the  chief,  if  not  the  only  his- 
toric dramatist  that  kept  possession  of  the  English 
stage  ;  which  gives  a  strong  support  to  the  tradition 
mentioned  by  Gildon,(ec')  that,  in  a  conversation 
with  Ben  Jonson,  our  bard  vindicated  his  his- 
torical plays  by  urging,  that  as  he  had  found  "  the 
nation  in  general  very  ignorant  of  history,  he  wrote 
them  in  order  to  instruct  the  people  in  this  par- 
ticular." This  is  assigning  not  only  a  good  motive, 
but  a  ver)^  probable  reason  for  his  preference  of  this 
species  of  composition  ;  since  we  cannot  doubt  but 
his  illiterate  countrymen  would  not  only  want  such 
instruction  when  he  first  began  to  write,  notwith- 
standing the  obscure  dramatic  chroniclers  who  pre- 
ceded him,  but  also  that  they  would  highly  profit 
by  his  admirable  lectures  on  English  history  so  long 
as  he  continued  to  deliver  them  to  his  audience. 
And  as  it  implies  no  claim  to  his  being  \\\^  first  who 
introduced  our  chronicles  on  the  stage,  I  see  not 
why  the  tradition  should  be  rejected. 

Upon  the  whole  we  have  had  abundant  proof  that 
both  Shakespeare  and  his  contemporaries  considered 
his  histories,  or  historical  plays,  as  of  a  legitimate 
distinct  species,  sufficiently  separate  from  tragedy 
and  comedy,  a  distinction  which  deserves  the  |)ar- 
ticular  attention   of  his   critics   and    commentators  ; 


(w)  See  Malone's  Shakesp.  vol.  vi.  \^.  427.  This  ingenious 
writer  will,  with  his  known  lilicnility,  cxnise  the  (iiffLTcncc  of 
opinion  here  entertained  concerning  the  above  tradition. 


452  ON    THE    ORIGIN   OF 

who,  by  not  adverting  to  it,  deprive  him  of  his 
proper  defence  and  best  vindication  for  his  neglect 
of  the  unities,  and  departure  from  the  classical 
dramatic  forms.  For,  if  it  be  the  first  canon  of 
sound  criticism  to  examine  any  work  by  whatever 
rule  the  author  prescribed  for  his  own  observance, 
then  we  ought  not  to  try  Shakespeare's  histories 
by  the  general  laws  of  tragedy  or  comedy.  Whether 
the  rule  itself  be  vicious  or  not  is  another  inquiry  : 
but  certainly  we  ought  to  examine  a  work  only  by 
those  principles  according  to  which  it  was  composed. 
This  would  save  a  deal  of  impertinent  criticism. 

V.  We  have  now  brought  the  inquiry  as  low  as 
was  intended,  but  cannot  quit  it  without  entering 
into  a  short  description  of  what  may  be  called  the 
ceconomy  of  the  ancient  English  stage. 

Such  was  the  fondness  of  our  forefathers  for 
dramatic  entertainments,  that  not  fewer  than  nine- 
teen playhouses  had  been  opened  before  the  year 
1633,  when  Prynne  published  his  Histrioviastix.{a) 
From  this  writer  it  should  seem  that  "  tobacco,  wine, 
and  beer,"(<5)  were  in  those  days  the  usual  accom- 


{d)  He  speaks  in  p.  492  of  the  playhouses  in  Bishopsgate-street 
and  on  Ludgate-hill,  which  are  not  among  the  seventeen  enu- 
merated in  the  preface  to  Dodsley's  Old  Plays.  Nay,  it  appears 
from  Rymer's  MSS.  that  twenty-three  playhouses  had  been  at 
different  periods  open  in  London  ;  and  even  six  of  them  at  one 
time.     See  Malone's  Shakesp.  vol.  i.  pt.  ii.  p.  48. 

(b)  So,  I  think,  we  may  infer  from  the  following  passage,  viz.  : 
"■  How  many  are  there,  who,  according  to  their  several  qualities, 
spend  2d.  2,d.  4^-  6^.  i2d.  iSd.  2s.  and  sometimes  4^'.  or  5^-.  at  a 
play-house,  day  by  day,  if  coach-hire,  boat-hire,  tobacco,  wine, 
beere,  and  such  like  vaine  expences,  which  playes  doe  usually 
occasion,  be  cast  into  the  reckoning  ? "  Prynne's  Histriom.  p. 
322.      ■ 

But  that  tobacco  was  smoaked  in  the  play-houses  appears  fi-om 
Taylor  the  Water-poet,  in  his  Proclamation  for  Tobacco's  Propaga- 


THE    ENGLISH   STAGE.        453 

modations  in    the    theatre,    as  within   our    memory 
at  Sadler's  Wells. 

With  regard  to  the  players  themselves,  the  several 
companies  were  (as  hath  been  already  shewn),  {c)  re- 
tainers or  menial  servants  to  particular  noblemen, (^f) 
who  protected  them  in  the  exercise  of  their  profes- 
sion :  and  many  of  them  were  occasionally  strollers, 
that  travelled  from  one  gentleman's  house  to  another. 
Yet  so  much  were  they  encouraged,  that,  notwith- 
standing their  multitude,  some  of  them  acquired 
large  fortunes.  Edward  Allen,  who  founded  Dul- 
wich  College,  is  a  known  instance.  And  an  old 
writer  speaks  of  the  very  inferior  actors,  whom  he 
calls  the  hirelings,  as   living  in  a  degree  of  splen- 


iion :  "  Let  play-houses,  drinking-schools,  taverns,  &c.  be  con- 
tinually haunted  with  the  contaminous  vapours  of  it ;  nay  (if  it  be 
possible)  bring  it  into  the  churches,  and  there  choak  up  their 
preachers."'  (  Works,  p.  253.)  And  this  was  really  the  case  at 
Cambridge:  James  I.  sent  a  letter  in  1607  against  "taking  To- 
bacco" in  St.  Mary's.     So  I  learn  from  my  friend  Dr.  Farmer. 

A  gentleman  has  informed  me  that  once,  going  into  a  church  in 
Holland,  he  saw  the  male  part  of  the  audience  sitting  with  their 
hats  on,  smoking  tobacco,  while  the  preacher  was  holding  forth  in 
his  morning-gown. 

{c)  See  the  extracts  above,  in  p.  439,  from  the  E.  of  Norlhumb. 
Hoiishold  Book. 

(d)  See  the  Preface  to  Dodsley's  0/d  Plays.  The  author  of  an 
old  invective  against  the  stage,  called  A  third  Blast  of  Rdrait 
from  Plates,  &c.,  1580,  i2mo.,  says:  "  Alas  !  that  private  affection 
should  so  raigne  in  the  nobilitie,  that  to  pleasure  their  servants, 
and  to  upholde  them  in  their  vanitye,  they  should  restrainc  the 
magistrates  from  executing  their  office  I  .  .  .  They  [the  nobilityj 
are  thought  to  be  covetous  by  permitting  their  servants  ...  to 
live  at  the  devotion  or  almes  of  other  men,  passing  from  countrie 
to  countrie,  from  one  gentleman's  house  to  another,  offering  their 
service,  which  is  a  kind  of  beggerie.  Who  indeede,  to  speakc 
more  trulie,  are  become  beggers  for  their  servants.  For  comonlie 
the  good-wil,  men  beare  to  their  Lordes,  makes  them  draw  the 
strings  of  their  purses  to  extend  their  liberalilie."  Vid.  p.  75,  76, 
&c. 


454  ON    THE    ORIGIN    OF 

dour   which  was    thought  enormous  in  that  frugal 
age.(^) 

At  the  same  time  the  ancient  prices  of  admission 
were  often  very  low.  Some  houses  had  penny- 
benches.  (/*)  The  "two-penny  gallery"  is  men- 
tioned in  the  prologue  to  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's 
Woman  Hater ;  {^j  and    seats   of    three-pence  and 

(e)  Stephen  Gosson,  in  his  Schoole  of  Abuse,  1579,  i2mo.,  fol. 
23,  says  thus  of  what  he  terms  in  his  margin  Players-men :  '"'Over 
lashing  in  apparel  is  so  common  a  fault,  that  the  very  hyerlings  of 
some  of  our  Players,  which  stand  at  revirsion  of  \\s.  by  the  week, 
jet  under  gentlemens  noses  in  sutis  of  silke,  exercising  themselves 
to  prating  on  the  stage,  and  common  scoffing  when  they  come 
abrode,  where  they  look  askance  over  the  shoulder  at  every  man, 
of  whom  the  Sunday  before  they  begged  an  almes.  I  speake  not 
this,  as  though  everye  one  that  professeth  the  qualitie  so  abused 
himselfe,  for  it  is  well  knowen,  that  some  of  them  are  sober,  dis- 
creete,  properly  learned,  honest  housholders  and  citizens,  well- 
thought  on  among  their  neighbours  at  home."  [he  seems  to  mean 
Edw.  Allen  above  mentioned]  "  though  the  pryde  of  their  sha- 
dowes  (I  mean  those  hangbyes,  whom  they  succour  with  stipend) 
cause  them  to  be  somewhat  il-talked  of  abroad." 

In  a  subsequent  period  we  have  the  following  satirical  fling  at 
the  shewy  exterior  and  supposed  profits  of  the  actors  of  that  time. 
Vid.  Greene's  Groatszvorth  of  Wit,  1625,410.  :  "What  is  your 
profession?" — "  Truly,  Sir,  ...  I  am  a  Player."  "A  Player? 
...  I  took  you  rather  for  a  Gentleman  of  great  living;  for,  if  by 
outward  Habit  men  should  be  censured,  I  tell  you,  you  would  be 
taken  for  a  substantial  man."  "  So  I  am  where  I  dwell  .... 
What,  though  the  world  once  went  hard  with  me,  when  I  was 
fayne  to  carry  my  playing-fardle  a  foot-backe  :  Tevipora  ?nutantnr 
....  for  my  very  share  in  playing  apparrell  will  not  be  sold  for 
two  hundred  pounds  ....  Nay  more,  I  can  serve  to  make  a 
pretty  speech,  for  I  was  a  country  Author,  passing  at  a  Moral," 
&c.     See  Roberto's  Tale,  sign.  D.  3.  b. 

(_/)  So  a  MS.  of  Oldys,  from  Tom  Nash,  an  old  pamphlet-writer. 
And  this  is  confirmed  by  Taylor  the  Water-poet,  in  his  Praise  of 
Beggerie,  p.  99  : 

"  Yet  have  I  seen  a  beggar  with  his  many,  [sc.  vermin] 
Come  at  a  play-house,  all  in  for  one  penny." 

{g)  So  in  the  Belman's  Night- Walks  by  Decker,  16 16,  4to.  : 
"  Pay  thy  two-pence  to  a  player,  in  this  gallery  thou  mayest  sit  by 
a  harlot." 


THE    ENGLISH    STAGE.        455 

a  groat  seem  to  be  intended  in  the  passage  of 
Prynne  above  referred  to.  Yet  different  liouses 
varied  in  their  prices :  that  playhouse  called  the 
"Hope"  had  seats  of  five  several  rates,  from  six- 
pence to  half-a-crown.(//)  But  a  shilling  seems  to 
have  been  the  usual  price  if)  of  what  is  now  called 
the  pit,  which  probably  had  its  name  from  one  of 
the  playhouses  having  been  a  cock-pit.(/') 

The  day  originally  set  apart  for  theatrical  exhibi- 
tion appears  to  have  been  Sunday,  probably  because 
the  first  dramatic  pieces  were  of  a  religious  cast. 
During  a  great  part  of  Queen  Elizabeth's  reign,  the 
pla}houses  were  only  licensed  to  be  opened  on  that 
day  :(/)  but  before  the  end  of  her  reign,  or  soon 
after,  this  abuse  was  probably  removed. 

(//)  Induct,  to  Ben  Jonson's  Barthohnneii'-fair.  An  ancient  sa- 
tirical piece  called  The  Blacke  Book,  Lond,  1604,  4to.,  talks  of 
"  The  six-penny  roomcs  in  play-houses ;"  and  leaves  a  legacy  to 
one  whom  he  calls  "  Arch-tobacco-taker  of  England,  in  ordinaries, 
upon  stages  both  common  and  private." 

(/)  Shakesp.  Prol.  to  Hen.  P7//.— Beaum.  and  Fletch.  Prol.  to 
the  Captain,  and  to  the  Mad-lover. 

{k)  This  etymology  hath  been  objected  to  by  a  very  ingenious 
writer  (see  Malone's  Shakesp.  vol.  i.  part  ii.  p.  59),  who  thinks  it 
questionable,  because,  in  St.  Mary's  church  at  Cambridge,  the 
area  that  is  under  the  pulpit,  and  surrounded  by  the  galleries,  is 
{no7c>)  called  the  pit ;  which,  he  says,  no  one  can  suspect  to  have 
been  a  Cock-pit,  or  that  a  playhouse  phrase  could  be  applied  to  a 
church.  But  whoever  is  acquainted  with  the  licentiousness  of 
boys,  will  not  think  it  impossible  that  they  should  thus  ai)ply  a 
name  so  peculiarly  expressive  of  its  situation  :  which  from  frccjucnt 
use  might  at  length  prevail  among  the  senior  members  of  the 
University ;  especially  when  those  young  men  became  seniors 
themselves.  The  name  of  Pit,  so  apjjlied  at  Cambridge,  must  be 
deemed  to  have  been  a  cant  phrase,  until  it  can  be  shewn  that  the 
area  in  other  churches  was  usually  so  called. 

(/)  .So  Ste.  Gosson,  in  his  Schoole  of  Abuse,  1579,  i2mo.,  speak- 
ing of  the  players,  says,  "  These,  because  they  are  allowed  to  i)lay 
every  Sunday,  make  iiii.  or  v.  Sundayes  at  least  every  week,"  fol. 
24.     So  the  author  of  A  Second  and  Third  Blast  of  Retrait  from 


456  ON    THE    ORIGIN    OF 

The  usual  time  of  acting  was  early  in  the  after- 
noon, (^i^^)  plays  being  generally  performed  by  day- 
light. (72)  All  female  parts  were  performed  by  men, 
no  English  actress  being  ever  seen  on  the  public 
stage  {0)  before  the  civil  wars. 


Plaies,   1580,   i2mo.     "Let  the  magistrate  but  repel  them  from 

the  libertie  of  plaeing  on  the  Sabboth-daie To  plaie  on 

the  Sabboth  is  but  a  priviledge  of  sufferance,  and  might  with  ease 
be  repelled,  were  it  thoroughly  followed.'"'  P.  61-62.  So  again: 
"  Is  not  the  Sabboth  of  al  other  dales  the  most  abused  ?  .  .  .  . 
Wherefore  abuse  not  so  the  Sabboth-daie,  my  brethren ;  leave  not 
the  temple  of  the  Lord."  ....  "Those  unsaverie  morsels  of 
unseemehe  sentences  passing  out  of  the  mouth  of  a  ruffenhe  plaier, 
doth  more  content  the  hungrie  humors  of  the  rude  multitude,  and 
carrieth  better  rellish  in  their  mouthes,  than  the  bread  of  the 
worde,  &c."  Vid.  p.  63,  65,  69,  &c.  I  do  not  recollect  that  ex- 
clamations of  this  kind  occur  in  Prynne,  whence  I  conclude  that 
this  enormity  no  longer  subsisted  in  this  time. 

It  should  also  seem,  from  the  author  of  the  Third  Blast  above 
quoted,  that  the  churches  still  continued  to  be  used  occasionally 
for  theatres.  Thus,  in  p.  77,  he  says,  that  the  players  (who,  as 
hath  been  observed,  were  servants  of  the  nobility),  "under  the 
title  of  their  maisters,  or  as  reteiners,  are  priviledged  to  roave 
abroad,  and  permitted  to  publish  their  mametree  in  everie  temple 
of  God,  and  that  throughout  England,  unto  the  horrible  contempt 
of  praier." 

{in)  "  He  entertaines  us"  (says  Overbury  in  his  Character  of  an 
Actor)  "  in  the  best  leasure  of  our  Hfe,  that  is,  betweene  meales  ; 
the  most  unfit  time  either  for  study  or  bodily  exercise."  Even  so 
late  as  in  the  reign  of  Charles  II.  plays  generally  began  at  three  in 
the  afternoon. 

{ti)  See  Biogr.  Brit.  i.  1 1 7,  n.  D. 

{p)  I  say  "  no  English  actress  ...  on  the  public  stage,"  because 
Prynne  speaks  of  it  as  an  unusual  enormity,  that  "  they  had  French- 
women actors  in  a  play  not  long  since  personated  in  Blackfriars 
playhouse."  This  was  in  1629,  vid.  p.  215.  And  tho'  female 
parts  were  performed  by  men  or  boys  on  the  pubHc  stage,  yet  in 
masques  at  Court,  the  Queen  and  her  ladies  made  no  scruple  to 
perform  the  principal  parts,  especially  in  the  reigns  of  James  1. 
and  Charles  I. 

Sir  William  Davenant,  after  the  restoration,  introduced  women, 
scenery,  and  higher  prices.   See  Cibber's  Aplogy  for  his  own  Life. 


THE    ENGLISH    STAGE.         457 

Lastly,  with  regard  to  the  playhouse  furniture  and 
ornaments,  a  writer  of  King-  Charles  II.'s  time,(y^) 
who  well  remembered  the  preceding  age,  assures  us 
that  in  general  "  they  had  no  other  scenes  nor  de- 
corations of  the  stage,  but  only  old  tapestry,  and 
the  stage  strewed  with  rushes,  with  habits  accord- 
ingly." (^) 

Yet  Coryate  thought  our  theatrical  exhibitions, 
&c,,  splendid  when  compared  with  what  he  saw 
abroad.  Speaking  of  the  Theatre  for  Comedies 
at  Venice,  he  says  :  "  The  house  is  very  beggarly 
and  base  in  comparison  of  our  stately  playhouses 
in  England,  neyther  can  their  actors  compare  with 
ours  for  apparrell,  shewes,  and  musicke.  Here 
I  observed  certaine  things  that  I  never  saw  before  : 
For  I  saw  women  act,  a  thing  that  I  never  saw 
before,  though  I  have  heard  that  it  hath  been  some- 
times used  in  London  ;  and  they  performed  it  with 
as  good  a  grace,  action,  gesture,  and  whatsoever 
convenient  for  a  player,  as  ever  I  saw  any  mascu- 
line actor."(r) 

It  ouofht,  however,  to  be  observed,  that  amid  such 
a  multitude  of  playhouses  as  subsisted  in  the  metro- 


(/)  See  A  Short  Discourse  on  the  English  Stage,  subjoined  to 
Flecknoe's  Love's  Kingdofn,  1674,  i2mo. 

{q)  It  appears  from  an  ei)igram  of  Taylor  the  Water-poet,  that 
one  of  the  principal  theatres  in  his  time,  viz.  the  Globe  on  the 
Bankside,  Southwark  (which  Ben  Jonson  calls  the  "  Glory  of  the 
Bank,  and  Fort  of  the  whole  Parish"),  had  been  covered  with 
thatch  till  it  was  burnt  down  in  16 13.  (See  Taylor's  Sculler,  Epig. 
22,  p.  31.    ]onsovv%  Execration  on  Vulcan.) 

Puttenham  tells  us  they  used  vizards  in  his  time,  "partly  to 
supply  the  want  of  players,  when  there  were  more  parts  tlian  llicre 
were  persons,  or  that  it  was  not  thought  meet  to  trouble  .... 
jjrinces  chambers  with  too  many  folkes."  \Art  of  Eng.  Foes. 
1589,  p.  26.1  Prom  the  last  clause,  it  should  seem  that  they  were 
chielly  used  in  the  masfjues  at  Gourt. 

(r)  Coryate's  Crudities,  4to.  1611,  p.  247. 


458  THE    ENGLISH    STAGE. 

polis  before  the  Civil  Wars,  there  must  have  been  a 
great  difference  between  their  several  accommoda- 
tions, ornaments,  and  prices ;  and  that  some  would 
be  much  more  shewy  than  others,  though  probably 
all  were  much  inferior  in  splendor  to  the  two  great 
theatres  after  the  Restoration. 


1^  The  preceding  Essay,  although  some  of  the  materials  are 
new  arranged,  hath  received  no  alteration  deserving  notice,  from 
what  it  was  in  the  second  edition,  1767,  except  in  section  IV,  which 
in  the  present  impression  hath  been  much  enlarged. 

This  is  mentioned,  because,  since  it  was  first  published,  the 
history  of  the  English  stage  hath  been  copiously  handled  by  Mr. 
Tho.  Warton  in  his  History  of  English  Poetry,  1774,  &c.,  3  vols. 
4to.  (wherein  is  inserted  whatever  in  these  volumes  fell  in  Avith  his 
subject) ;  and  by  Edmond  Malone,  Esq.,  who,  in  his  Historical 
Account  of  the  English  Stage  {Shakesp.  vol.  i.  part  ii.  1790),  hath 
added  greatly  to  our  knowledge  of  the  oeconomy  and  usages  of 
our  ancient  theatres. 


[This  Essay  is  now  entirely  out  of  date,  on  account  of  the  mass 
of  new  material  for  a  complete  history  of  the  English  stage,  which 
has  been  printed  since  it  was  written.  Information  on  the  subject 
must  be  sought  in  the  prefaces  of  the  various  editions  of  the 
dramatists  and  of  the  collections  of  mysteries  and  miracle  plays, 
or  in  Collier's  History  of  English  Dramatic  Poetry,  and  Halliwell's 
New  Materials  for  the  Life  of  Shakespeare.~] 


INDEX  OF  BALLADS  AND  POEMS  IN 
THE  FIRST  VOLUME. 


DAM  BELL,    Clym   of  the    Clough,   and  William   of 

Cloudesley,  153. 
Aged  Lover  renounceth  Love,  179. 
Alcanzor  and  Zayda,  338. 

Bryan  and  Pereene,  328. 

Carre,  Captain,  148. 

Cauline,  Sir,  61. 

Character  of  a  Happy  Life,  317. 

Chevy  Chase,  Ancient  Ballad  of,  ig. 

Chevy  Chace,  Modern  Ballad  of,  249. 

Child  of  Elle,  131. 

Cophetua,  King,  and  the  Beggar  Maid,  189. 

Corj'don's  Farewell  to  Phillis,  209. 

Cupid's  Pastime,  314. 

Death's  Final  Conquest,  264. 
Dowsabell,  304. 

Edom  o'  Gordon,  140. 
Edward,  Edward,  82. 
Estmere,  King,  85. 

Farewell  to  Love,  310. 

Friar  of  (Jrders  Gray,  242. 

PYolicksome  Duke,  or  the  Tinker's  Good  Fortune,  238. 

Gentle  River,  Gentle  River,  ^^t. 
Gernutus,  the  Jew  of  Venice,  211. 
Gilderoy,  318. 


46o  INDEX. 

Jephthah,  Judge  of  Israel,  182. 
Jew's  Daughter,  54. 

Lancelot  du  Lake,  Sir,  204. 

Leir,  King,  and  his  Three  Daughters,  231. 

My  Mind  to  me  a  Kingdom  is,  294. 

Northumberland  (Henry,  4th  Earl  of),  Elegy  on,  117. 
Northumberland  betrayed  by  Douglas,  279. 

Otterbourne,  Battle  of,  35. 

Passionate  Shepherd  to  his  Love,  220. 
Patient  Countess,  298. 

Rising  in  the  North,  266. 

Robin  Hood  and  Guy  of  Gisborne,  102. 

Robyn,  Jolly  Robyn,  185. 

Song  to  the  Lute  in  Musicke,  187. 
Spence,  Sir  Patrick,  98. 

Take  those  Lips  away,  230. 
Take  thy  old  Cloak  about  thee,  195. 
Titus  Andronicus's  Complaint,  224. 
Tower  of  Doctrine,  127. 

Ulysses  and  the  Syren,  311. 

Willowj  Willow,  Willow,  199. 
Winifreda,  323. 
Witch  of  Wokey,  325. 
Youth  and  Age,  237. 


END    OF    VOLUME    THE    FIRST. 


CHISWICK   PRESS  : — PRINTED   BY   WHITTINGHAM   AND   WILKfNS, 
TOOKS    COURT,    CHANCBRY    LANE, 


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