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LORY, 


ABERYSTWYTH STUDIES 


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s : MEMBERS OF THE UNIVERSITY 
COLLEGE OF WALES 


Rade, Nid byd, byd heb wybodaeth 


- VOLUME ONE — 


fe “ABERYST WYTH 
Bae SS PU: BLISHED AT THE COLLEGE 


ABERYSTW YTH STUDIES 


BY 


MEMBERS OF THE UNIVERSITY 
COLLEGE OF WALES 


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PUBLISHED AT THE COLLEGE 
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CONTENTS 


PAGE 


. THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES. By Grorce A. Woon, M.A. 9 


2. AN ANALYSIS OF THE FEMALE CHARACTERS OF 
GRILLPARZER’S DRAMAS CONTRASTED WITH 
THOSE OF GOETHE’S AND SCHILLER’S. By 
Miss Amy Burcess, M.A.. : : ; ; 65 


. NORMAN EARTHWORKS NEAR ABERYSTWYTH. By 
F. S. WricHt : : . : : ; 115 


. A LIST OF RESEARCH PUBLICATIONS BY MEMBERS 
OF THE COLLEGE STAFF FOR SESSION 1910-11. . 127 


THis volume of Studies is issued under 
the auspices of the Senate of the University 
College of Wales, and with the cordial 
assent of the Council. It is proposed to 
issue new volumes at least once a session. 
They will embody the fruit of research 
carried out by members of the Teaching 
Staff and Graduates of the College. 


TETRA ATTY) BF RA APN WO PR RA YAR WORT ATTY MELEE) ek SES aD RSNA WNT A WT RE § YR, WA WH, RIA VD WENA WEF, VNC Vl, Wea ce 


Ee ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES | — 
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oe _ GEORGE A. OOweMimes FE Ie Ce 


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PREFACE 


HiTHERTO discussions of the Anglo-Saxon riddles have dealt 
exclusively with some one aspect of them, or with the specialised 
problems presented by individual riddles. The majority of the 
contributions which have been made to the critical literature 
dealing with the riddles have appeared in the literary and philo- 
logical journals of Germany, though in recent years the riddles 
have received considerable attention from American scholars. 
Up to April 1909, however (when this thesis was mitten), no 
complete review of the subject had appeared. 


It is the purpose of the present essay :— 


(a) To consider the chief characteristics of the riddles as a 
whole, and their relation to the circumstances of the 
times in which they were produced. 

(6) To present a critical commentary which shall deal with 
questions arising out of individual riddles, and with 
the various solutions which, from time to time, have 
been. proposed. 

(c) To give some account of the progress of ‘ riddle’ scholar- 
ship. 


The whole treatment is intended to be mainly literary in spirit, 
and only concerns itself with philological considerations in so far 
as they are helpful in dealing with questions of age and origin. 

Generally speaking, criticism may be said to have gradually 
dissociated the riddles from the name and personality of Cynewulf, 
to whom they were so long ascribed. If, however, mention of 
the Cynewulfian theory of authorship should seem in Section V. 
to obtrude itself overmuch, it may be urged in excuse that for a 
long time this theory entirely dominated all discussions of the 
subject. Since the °‘ first riddle ’ was to a great extent responsible 
for this, some account of it and of the speculations it has called 
forth is included in the following pages, notwithstanding the fact 
that it has now been conclusively proved not to be a riddle at all. 

G. A. W. 


ABERYSTWytTH, March 1912. 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 


1. THE RIDDLE AND LITERATURE—VOLKSRATSEL UND KUNSTRATSEL 9 


mu. ExEetTerR-Book — Earty NorTicEs or RIDDLES — EDITIONS — 
EVIDENCES OF AN ORIGINAL NORTHERN FoRM—THEIR 
PLACE IN THE EXETER-BooK : : ; . ial 


mr. THe RIDDLE BECOMES A LITERARY ForM— LATIN RIDDLES— 
GENERAL CONTRAST OF THESE WITH THE OLD ENGLISH 


RIDDLES . . : : : : : 14 


Iv. How THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES REFLECT EARLY ENGLISH 


LIFE AND CHARACTER : : : “ : 19 
v. VARIOUS PROBLEMS CONNECTED WITH THE RIDDLES . : 25 


(2) Dip CYNEWULF WRITE THEM? 
(6) Do THEY FoRM A PRECONCEIVED WHOLE? 
(c) ARE THEY RELATED TO THE LATIN RIDDLES ? 


vi. TREATMENT OF INDIVIDUAL RIDDLES — CONSIDERATION OF 
VARIOUS SUGGESTED SoLuTIONS — FurTHER POINTS OF 
INTEREST CONNECTED WITH INDIVIDUAL RIDDLES 39 


y 


S 


AUTHORITIES 


TEXT 
(a) Chief :— 
WULKER’s edition of GrEin’s Bibliothek der angelscichsischen Poesie, vol. iii. 
Leipzig, 1897. 


(b) Subsidiary :— 
C. W. M. GReEIn’s Bibliothek der angelsdichsischen Poesie, ii. Gottingen, 1858. 


B. THorpe’s Codex Hxoniensis. 1842. 
Additional MS., 9067 (British Museum). 


CRITICAL DISCUSSIONS 
(a) Chief :— 
F. Dietricu, . . ‘Die Rdtsel des Hxeterbuches, Wiurdigung, Losung, 
Ee und Herstellung.’ 
| Haupt’s Zeitschrift fur deutsches Alterthum, vols. x1. 
and xii. (referred to in footnotes as Z. f. d. A.). 


ADOLF EBERT, . . ‘Die Ratsel-Poesie der Angelsachsen.’ 
Berichte wiber die Verhandlungen der Konigl. 
Sachs. Gesellschaft der Wassenschaften, xxix. 
pp. 30-56. 


Ae PREHN, © 2\.: . Komposition und Quellen der Ratsel des Hxeterbuches. 
Munster, 1883. Diss. (Neuphilog.) Studien, Heft 3, 
1883. 


G. HERZFELD, . . ‘Die Ratsel des Hxeterbuches und thr Verfasser.’ 
II. in Acta Germanica. Berlin, 1890. 


M. Trautmann, . ‘Cynewulf und die Ratsel” Anglia, Anzeiger vi., 
1883. 
‘Die Auflosungen der a.e. Ratsel.’ Anglia, Beibiatt v., 
1894. 
‘Alte und neue Antworten auf dre Ratsel.’ 
‘(Bonner Beitrage zur Anglistik, xix. 


A. MADERT, . . Die Sprache der altenglischen Ratsel des Hxeterbuches 
und die Cynewulffrage. Marburg, 1900. 
Dae WALZ, . ‘Notes on the Anglo-Saxon Riddles.’ 


Harvard Studies and Notes in Philology and Intera- 
ture, vol. v. pp. 261-8. 


HeeLUPeER, —. . ‘Originals and Analogues of the Hxeter-book Riddles.’ 
Modern Language Notes, vols. xviii. and xxi. 

K. SIEVERS, . . ‘Zu Cynewulf’ Anglia, xiii. pp. 1-25. 

H. BRaDLey, . . Academy. March 24th, 1888, p. 197. 


W. W. Lawrence, . ‘The First Riddle of ee Publications of Modern 


Language Association of 


H. ScHOFIELD, . ‘Signy’s Lament.’ America, xvii. pp. 247-295. 


8 THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 


(b) Subsidiary :— ties 
R. P. WULKER, _ Grundriss zur Geschichte der amngelsachsischen 


Intteratur. 
Humrrey Wanuey, Catalogus .. . hbrorum veterum septentrronalium. 
Oxford, 1705. 


J.J. Conyprarz, . Lllustrations of Anglo-Saxon Poetry. London, 1826. 


L. C. MULLER, _ Collectanea Anglo-Saxonica. 1835. 

T. WRicHT, . . Biographia Britannica Literarva, vol. 1., 1842. 

Syaron Turner, . History of the Anglo-Saxons. London, 1805. 

J. SCHIPPER, . . ‘Zum Codex Exoniensis.’ Germania, xix. 

A. EBERT, _ Allgemeine Geschichte der Literatur des Mittelalters 
im Abendlande. Leipzig, 1874-87. 

H. Morbery, . . English Writers, ii. (1888.) 


Sroprorp A. Brooks, History of Harly English Literature. (1892.) 


M. W. Maccattum, Studies in Low and High German Literature. 
London, 1884. 


WieeP GER, 705 . The Dark Ages. Edinburgh, 1904. 


A. HEUSLER, . . ‘Die altnordischen Rdtsel.’ Zeitschrift des. Verewns 
fur Volkskunde, xi. 1901. 


OTHER RIDDLE COLLECTIONS 


J. P. Miene’s Patrologia Latina: Cursus Completus, vol. Ixxxix. (Ald- 
helm) and vol. xc. (the Flores of Bede.) Paris, 1884-89. 


Barurens’s Poetae Latini Minores.—(Symposius.) Leipzig, 1879, etc. 
A. Epert’s Berichte wiber die Verhandlungen, u.s.w., xxix.—(Eusebius. ) 


The Booke of Merry Firddles. 1629. Reprinted by Halliwell in his 
Interature of Svateenth and Seventeenth Centuries. (1866.) 


The Riddles of Randle Holme. Harleian MS., 1960. 


- Wricur’s Anglo-Latin Poets. Rolls Series, 57, vol. i. (Appendix)—(Tat- 
wine). 


Various VotumeEs of the Academy and Athenewwm as well as of German and 
American Journals, to which detailed reference is made in footnotes. 


THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 


I 


Tue discussion of the origin and early history of the riddle belongs 
to the domain of folklore rather than to that of literature. The 
statement of certain qualities in peculiar and sometimes para- 
doxical combination, and the challenge to discover the object 
which possesses these qualities, would seem to have been a very 
common form of amusement among early peoples. The riddle 
is essentially of popular origin. Herder 4 in an oft-quoted passage 
has remarked how ‘alle Volker auf den ersten Stufen der Bildung 
sind Liebhaber von Ratseln; die Kinder sind es auch und aus 
demselben Grund . . . und der Preis den der Erfinder sowohl als 
der Errater eines guten Ratsels in seinem Kreise davon tragt ist 
ihnen gleichsam Kampfpreis, die unschadlichste Siegeskrone.’ 
Since the riddle embodies both strife and challenge, it is therefore 
likely to be a natural and congenial transition to intellectual 
interests for peoples just emerging from a barbarous period of 
feud and warfare into the dawnlight of civilisation. 

Along with the heroic lay and the early ballad, it belonged to 
that mass of floating material, sustained and developed by oral 
tradition, out of which, in the fullness of time, the beginnings of 
literature were to come. Undoubtedly its importance to litera- 
ture was not destined to be so great as that of the heroic lay ; 
yet in so far as the riddle, even in its cruder forms, demands 
skill of words to hide its theme, it is an elementary form of art, 
and. literature may claim it for her own. 

Sometimes, however, this humble amusement, so strictly an 
affair of the people, has emerged from its lowly state, subjected 
itself to limitations of form, decked itself in verse, adorned itself 
with scholarly ornaments, and for a time has risen to dignity as 
an approved and recognised form of literature. It is precisely 
at this point—when the riddle has attracted the attention of the 


* From Herder’s Vom Geiste der Hbrdéischen Poesie, quoted by Petsch ; Palesira, 
iv., ‘ Neue Beitrage zur Kenntniss der Volksritsel ’ (1899) ; also by Ohlert in his 


‘Ratsel und Gesellschaftsspiele der alten Griechen’ (1886). 
9 


10 THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 


writer and the interest of the scholar—that literary history takes 
up the theme. Sometimes riddle collections show that little 
more than a selective function has been exercised by the writer, 
and so riddles have been transmitted to us in very much the 
same forms as those in which they passed from mouth to mouth 
among the people; at other times, however, the writers elabor- 
ated, extended, and embroidered riddles already current, treated 
old themes afresh, and often made entirely new riddles upon 
themes of their own choice. 

The Exeter-book riddles display both types. Some are 
obviously the naive results of unlettered effort to disguise in 
homely terms some simple theme ; they are generally brief, not 
unfrequently pungent, and may fittingly be termed ° Volksratsel.’ 
Of this type there are in the Exeter-book such examples as 69 
(‘Jack Frost’); 66 (the onion); 48 (cock and hen); 46, 63, 37 
(the pregnant sow). Others, however, by reason of their imagi- 
native qualities, their scholarly character, their lengthy form, 
are obviously of: a more ambitious order, and may, in contra- 
distinction to their simpler companions, be called ‘ Kunstratsel.’ 
Of Kunstratsel the Anglo-Saxon riddles supply such extremely 
fine examples as 2, 3, 4 (the ‘storm’ riddles); 21 (the sword) ; 
6 (the shield). | 

By reason of their variety, the term ‘ Kunstratsel ’ is a generic 
rather than a specific term. Sometimes the point of the riddle 
lies in some play upon the words used, or in some arrangement of 
letters within the riddle itself, e.g. the ‘Rune’ riddles seem to 
be an approach to the Acrostic form. Often the solution to the 
problem proposed is only to be cbtained by recognising the theme 
or object which reconciles best the terms of a metaphorical — 
description, or which satisfies some seeming paradox: e.g. riddle 13 
demands the identity of one who is ‘a plunderer during life and 
a servant after death’; riddle 40 asks for that which has ‘neither 
foot, hand, limb, nor soul, and yet lives’ ; while riddle 23 describes 
one who takes a journey, ‘though neither flying, nor walking, nor 
riding.’ Sometimes the element of purposeful mystery is less 
obtrusive, and then the riddle approaches what is now usually 
known as the epigram, for in it attention is so centred upon grace 
and truth of description that the theme is often but thinly veiled, 
and identification comparatively easy ; the Exeter riddles contain 
several in which much of the mystery is lost in the joy of imagina- 
tive delineation : e.g. riddle 22 (the plough) is in this way more 


een ee 


aa aaaLg.LSaLa.aQV—Vweco 


THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 11 


poem than puzzle, in riddle 16 the badger is unmistakably 
described with verve and passion, and riddle 57 (shuttle, etc.), 
though highly metaphorical, is yet somewhat transparent. 


II 


Tue Anglo-Saxon riddles are contained in a book of miscellaneous 
content, presented. by Leofric, first Bishop of Exeter, to his 
Cathedral library. With the exception of short periods it has 
remained there ever since, and has thus survived the drums and 
tramplings of eight centuries. That its existence has not been 
uneventful is shown by Schipper,! who examined it during the 
winter of 1870 and 1871, and thus wrote: ‘° Hin glimmendes 
Stiick Holz scheint auf das Buch gefallen zu sein und sich all- 
mahlich durch jene 12 Blatter hindurch gebrannt zu haben 
bis es abkthlte oder entfernt wurde.’ The codex and its riddle- 
contents were first noted by Humfrey Wanley? in 1705. It is 
mentioned in his catalogue of ‘Codices MSS. Anglo-Saxonici 
Keclesiz Exoniensis.’ Wanley describes it as consisting of two 
portions : (1) ‘diversis temporibus et a diversis librariis calamo 
scripta.’ This refers to the early pages, which contain lists of 
benefactions and legal deeds referring to bequests and purchases 
of land. (2) ‘laudatum opus Poeticum Saxonice elegantioribus 
characteribus.’ ‘This refers to the whole of the poetic contents of 
the codex, which were conceived by Wanley as being arranged 
‘in plures libros sive tomos.’ The ninth book is described: 
‘fere totus est in Ainigmatibus ’; and the tenth similarly, with 
the addition, * quorum nonnulla characteribus Runicis insigniun- 
tur.’ Conybeare? mentioned the riddles in 1826, and described 
them as ‘so extremely obscure that they might well suffice to 
damp the ardour of a Saxon Cidipus ’; he pointed out, too, that 
Wanley was curiously wrong in describing the ninth book as 
‘fere totus in enigmatibus,’ for there is no riddle whatever in the 
portion referred to. 

In 1835 Miller* published riddles 6 and 27, and offered the 
generally accepted solutions, ‘scutum ’ and ‘liber’ respectively ; 


1 Schipper, “ Zum Codex Exoniensis,’ Germania, xix. pp. 327-8. 

2 H. Wanley in Hickes’s ‘Catalogus . . . librorum veterum septentrionalium.’ 
Oxford (1705). 

* Conybeare, Illustrations of Anglo-Saxon Poetry (1826). 

4 Miller, Collectanea Anglo-Saxonica (1835), pp. 63, 64. 


12 THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 


while in 1842 Wright ! brought three others (14, 29, 47) out of their 
obscurity, and offered as solutions : ‘That doughty hero—John 
Barleycorn,’ ‘ the Aurelia of the butterfly and its transformations,’ 
and ‘ the patriarch Lot and his two daughters and their two sons.’ 
In the same year (1842) Thorpe published for the first time in 
his Codex Hxoniensis what is practically the whole collection. 
Subsequent editions have been edited by Grein? in 1858, and 
Wiilker ? in 1896—the latter including as riddles some half-dozen 
fragments which Thorpe and Grein had left unnoticed in 1842 
and 1858. 

The MS. is in the WS. dialect, and was at first supposed to 
belong to the tenth century, though Schipper,’ basing his argu- 
ment upon ‘gewisse alterthtmlichen Formen einzelner Buch- 
staben z. b. des y,’ is inclined to think that it belongs to the 
commencement of the eleventh ; if this be so, it is quite conceiv- 
able that Leofric himself might have supervised the writing and 
compilation of it. The original writing seems to have been 
revised by another scribe, and corrected with a fainter ink, while 
in several instances either alterations have been made by scraping 
the surface of the parchment, or else the peculiar appearance of 
certain letters is due to inequalities in its consistency and surface. 
Though the manuscript may belong to the eleventh century, the 
riddles betray evidences—mainly phonological—of an earlier 
form. The scribe who copied them into WS. allowed, through 
momentary lapses of attention, forms quite alien to WS. to escape 
into his transcript. The following are some of the evidences 
which point to the fact that the riddles were copied from 
Northumbrian originals :-— 


1. The forms ehtu we (37.4) and edda (44.17) are distinctively 
Northumbrian. Cf. Sievers,* §325, note 8, and §317. 

2. The presence of unsyncopated endings in the past participles 
of weak verbs of Class I. e.g. sended (2-11); leaded 
(29-6) ; wilted, wended (60-19). Cf Sievers, §402 (2). 

3. The phenomenon of a palatal mutation by which ea>z 
instead of ‘e’ as in WS., e.g. beg (5-8); and peh 
(72-8). Cf. Sievers, §162. 


* Wright, Biographia Britannica Literaria (1842), pp. 79 ff. 

* Grein’s Bibliothek der ags. Poesie, and Wiilker’s edition of same (completed 
1896). 

8 Germania, xix. 

* All references to Sievers are to Cook’s English edition. 


THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 13 


6 


4, The occurrence of unbroken ‘a’ before ‘1 ’-+consonant, 
e.g. hals (both singly and in composition) (16-1), 
(32-21), (5-4), (41-80); wald-end (7-1), (21-4), (24-6), 
(41-89). Cf. Sievers, §151(3). 

5. The occurrence of this unbroken ‘a’ mutated to ‘ e,’ 
e.g. aldwm (4-34), (6-6), (81-6); mezldan (19-2) ; 
aida (95-10), (84-31). Cf. Sievers, §159(3). 

6. The interchange of ‘ea’ and ‘eo,’ e.g. earpan (4-42) ; 
heord (4-5). Cf. Sievers, §150(3). 

7. The occurrence of a palatal mutation whereby ‘eo ’>‘e’ 
—sometimes with the omission of the mutating * h ’— 
e.g. feorh>ferh or fer in wideferh (40. Il 8 and 21) ; 
ferde (27-21); ferddum (55-12), (60-3) ; ferdum (84-33). 
Cf. Sievers, §164(1). 


_ Besides these irregularities of word form, the WS. transcript 
of the riddles displays other irregularities and inconsistencies 
which certainly suggest that the scribe but ill understood the 
material he was copying. There are several obvious omissions 
of entire half verses, while others have been imperfectly trans- 
mitted.? The riddles occur in three quite separate groups. 
Riddles 43 and 44 are transcribed as one poem, similarly 48 and 
49; riddle 33, though concluded with a *Schluss-formel,’ appears 
incorporated with riddle 34, and the last two lines of riddle 48, 
so obviously a relative enlargement of ‘ic’ in line 15, were con- 
ceived by the scribe as a separate poem, and set down as such. 
In riddles 21 and 41 we have incomplete poems ; the 31st riddle 
is repeated some twenty-eight pages after its first occurrence, 
and immediately following riddle 61 is the fragment (since called 
‘The Husband’s Message ’), which the copyist evidently under- 
stood to be a riddle. 

In addition to the runes of the rune riddles there is the curious 
occurrence of initial runes before riddles 7, 9, and 18, and rather 
uncertain marks which possibly are meant to be runes both at 
the beginning and end of each of riddles 14, 15, and 31. Whether 
these are intended to suggest the solutions to the riddles to 
which they are affixed seems doubtful. Grein has interpreted 
the rune before riddle 7 as ‘sigel ’=‘ sun,’ and that before riddle 18 

1 H.g. in 19-3, 41-23. The alliterative unity of the two subsequent half-verses 


shows that the half line in question remains unpaired. 
2 In 4-18 a word to alliterate with ‘styrgan’ is required. In 41-2 ‘ wred- 


_ estupum * is an imperfect half-verse, probably lacking a verb to match ‘ healdep.’ 


14 THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 


as ‘beore ’=‘ badger,’ but, whatever their purpose was, they — 


were certainly inserted by the first scribe, for in riddle 7 due 
space has been allowed for the mark by arranging the first line 
more to the right than would else have been the case. 

It is idle, perhaps, to speculate whether the riddles were 
originally arranged in the order in which the Exeter-book presents 
them, or whether they were first recorded in some book of miscel- 
laneous contents together with other material (as in the case of the 
sixteenth-century riddles of Randle Holme). The latter suggestion 
will at any rate allow us to suppose that after the Danes had 
ravaged Northumbria some WS. writer, being set to the task of 
transcribing from the rescued fragments of Northumbrian litera- 
ture, failed to distinguish riddles from other poems, and so gave 
consecutively to posterity the scrap of saga so long mistaken for 
the first of the riddles, the ‘ Exile’s Complaint,’ the various other 
fragments, and the three distinct groups of riddles. 

As is naturally to be expected, these textual confusions and 
uncertainties have resulted in the riddles being counted and 
arranged in various ways. Thorpe counted ninety-three riddles, 
Grein eighty-nine, while Wilker in his revision of Grein re- 
arranged them as ninety-five. Trautmann,' too, reckons ninety- 
five, though his numbering does not agree with Wiulker’s. The 
relation of these different arrangements to one another is shown 
in the table (see Appendix I.). 


It 


How the riddle rose into literary prominence in England is part 
of the story of the general rise of learning there. As a literary 
fashion it owes its existence to the peculiarly fortunate con- 
ditions under which Christianity and learning were introduced 
into Britain. Pope Gregory had banned secular learning, and, 
generally speaking, the study of humane letters declined with 
the rise of the Western Church. Not so, however, in Britain. 
In Ireland Christianity and secular learning had developed side 
by side, and the early Irish missionaries to Northumbria trans- 
ferred something of their own keen enthusiasm for letters to their 
converts. The early school at Canterbury, too, had been especi- 
ally fortunate in its founders, for both Theodore and Hadrian 
brought with them a deep and profound sense of the value of 


1 Anglia, Beiblatt v. 


THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 15 


learning, and Canterbury became a flourishing centre of secular 
as well as of theological instruction. These generous traditions 
were upheld in the south by bishops such as Brihtwald and 
Tatwine and by scholars like Aldhelm, while in the north the 
eager, intellectual enthusiasm of Benedict Biscop and of Bede 
gave a stimulus to learning, and made Northumbria for a time 
the renowned home of European scholarship. 

The period (600-800) was thus one of extremely rapid develop- 
ment, and, as frequently happens in periods of unwonted literary 
expansion, there arose, particularly during the eighth century, 
certain fashions and foibles of authorship which strike the sober 
judgment of later ages as strange, and sometimes even bizarre. 
Similar conditions produced the euphuism of the early Elizabethan 
age and, in this earlier renaissance, a new-found delight in expres- 
sion often led authors to strain language in their endeavour to 
exploit its utmost possibilities of expression. As a result, much 
of the Latinity of the period exemplifies a tendency towards a 
wayward indulgence in exuberant phraseology. Even the grave 
fathers of the Church amused the dull, sad moments of monastic 
leisure in the composition of fantastic letters, in the manufacture 
of acrostics, enigmas, and all kinds of literary bric-a-brac. Ald- 
helm knew how ‘to build the lofty rhyme,’ and to force into 
service the strange contents of his extensive Latin learning. 
_ Even into the amenities of friendly correspondence cryptic and 
forced witticism would sometimes intrude, e.g. Alcuin,! when 
thanking a friend for the present of an ivory comb, chooses to 
refer to it in riddling terms as some strange living creature : 


‘“Mirum animal duo habens capita et dentes LX... . non 
elephantinae magnitudinis sed eburneae pulchritudinis . . . nec 
ego hujus bestiae territus horrore sed delectatus aspectu . . . nec 


me frendentibus illa morderet dentibus timui sed blanda adula- 
tione capitis mei placare capillos adrisi’; the fact that he cannot 
meet a dear friend face to face draws from him the fantastic 
remark : ‘ Scito quod litterae tantummodo non sufficiunt ad meum 
et tuum—si non aderunt ego et tu. Huc usque tres litterae in 
tristitia fuerunt (i.e. ego), duobus (tu) haec facientibus sed septem 
(Albinus) omnia afferunt.’? In the same series of letters there 


1 Alcuin, Opera, ed. Andrea Quercetano (Ratisbon, 1777), Epistola ali., ‘ Ad 
Damoetum.’ 

* Quoted by Ebert in Berichte tiber die k.s. Gesellsch. d. Wissensch. u.s.w., 
Xx1x. p. 20. 


16 THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 


are many superscribed: ‘Epistola ‘initio aenigmatica,’ or 
‘epistola penitus aenigmatica.’ 

This same love of wordy efflorescence is seen in the verbose 
and catechetical style which the very forms of instruction 
assumed ‘... ja die Angelsachsen verwandten das Rathsel 
selbst zum Jugend Unterricht als eine Art Denkubung.’? In the 
‘Disputatio regalis et nobilissimi juvenis Pippini cum Albino 
scholastico ’? there is a strange medley of wordy amplifications 
on themes suggested by simple queries—periphrases which 
describe indirectly rather than define, e.g. : 

Pippinus. Quid est mors? Albinus. Inevitabilis eventus, 

incerta peregrinatio, 
testamenti firmamentum, 
latro hominis. 

Pippinus. Quid est gelu? Albinus. Persecutio herbarum, 
perditio foliorum, 
vinculum terrae, 
fons aquarum. 


A ship Albinus defines thus : ‘ Navis est domus erratica, ubilibet 
hospitium, viator sine vestigiis, vicina arenae.’ The dialogue of 
Salomon and Saturn displays like characteristics, and in both 
‘dialogue’ and ‘disputatio,’ not only are the answers to the 
questions required, but also sufficient rhetorical skill to wrap 
them round with folds of cunning phraseology. 

Now the riddle by its very nature affords excellent scope for 
such art as this, and nowhere does this pronounced delight in 
profuse and epithetical description show itself in a more sus- 
tained and intense form than in the very considerable output 
of ‘ Kunstratsel ’ which marked this era of Northumbrian learn- 
ing. The English ‘ offenbar eine besondere Neigung und Bega- 
bung fur diese Spiele des Witzes und der Phantasie besassen ’ ; * 
and hence it may be imagined with what curious interest and 
delight they would scan puzzles similar to those they loved so 
well, raised to literary dignity, trimmed and polished in the 
riddling triplets of Symposius. To the early English riddle- 
writers of the seventh and eighth centuries Symposius was the 
great original whose art they admired and imitated. Between the 
years 600 and 800 the riddle was a thing so much in fashion that 

1 Ebert, Berichie . . . u.s.w., xxix. p. 20. 


2 Alcuin, Opera, ed. Quercetano. Ratisbon, 1777. 
° Ally. Gesch., u.s.w., i. Leipzig, 1889, 


THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES Y/ 


most writers paid court to it, and considered it as a literary form 
which claimed attention. If they did not, on old themes, or on 
new ones suggested by their learning, fashion a series entirely 
their own, they at least bequeathed to posterity their own collec- 
tion of the aenigmata of others.t Bede? is reputed to have left 
‘a book of epigrams in heroic metre,’ now unfortunately lost ; 
Alcuin, among his Carmina, devotes a section entirely to ‘ Epi- 
srammata et Aenigmata;? but by far the most prolific writers 
of the riddle were the four ecclesiastics, Aldhelm, Eusebius, 
Tatwine, and Bonifacius ; and just as Symposius gave the stimulus 
to these, so they, in turn, inspired—and by some critics their 
riddles are said to have guided—the writer or writers of the 
Exeter riddles. They wrote their riddles in Latin, and all four 
writers belong to the period 680-800. 

Symposius had riddled about things well known to all men— 
various plants, and well-known animals, the utensils of the house- 
hold, weapons, tools, ships, bridges, the various phases of the 
weather. Aldhelm extended and developed this cycle of subjects, 
and included riddles upon sun, moon, constellations, the elements 
—air, earth, fire, and water ; moreover, as befitted a child of the 
Church, he introduced riddles upon scriptural themes, e.g. the 
dove, Lucifer, the fig-tree, the Fall of man, and did not forget 
when opportunity arose (e.g. in “ de luna et sole ’) to strike a blow 
at the superstitions of heathendom. Aldhelm was an English- 
man, and the alliteration of the verse of his native land some- 
times makes an appearance in his Latin. At Malmesbury he had 
come into contact with Celtic learning, and as a result his vocabu- 
lary is somewhat profuse and unusual, and his style more grandilo- 
quent than that of other writers of the period: * An die Stelle der 
antiken Kiirze tritt die romantische Ausftihrlichkeit, ein Gemalde 
an die Stelle der Federzeichnung.’ Of all the Latin riddles, those 
of Aldhelm approach most nearly in style the Anglo-Saxon riddles. 

Tatwine, who died Archbishop of Canterbury in 734, was 
probably of Mercian origin. In his forty riddles the scholar and 
ecclesiastic stand revealed ; there is a predominance of themes 
suggested by Christian life and worship; he deals with virtues, vices, 
and other abstract subjects drawn from the theology of the time. 


1 As in those printed by Giles in vol. vii. Caxton Society’s Publications, 


Anecdota Bedae, Lanfranci et aliorum. 
2 See Introduction, E.E.T.S., Anglo-Saxon version of Bede’s Eccles. Hist. 


3 Alcuin, Opera, p. 237, ed. Quercetano. 
B 


18 THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 


Eusebius was the Latin name by which Hweetberht of 
Wearmouth and Jarrow was known. It is usually supposed that 
the sixty riddles which he composed were intended as the comple- 
ment of Tatwine’s forty. Like Tatwine, he wrote for the learned ; 
he chose scientific material, and made riddles upon strange 
mythological beasts like the hydra, chimera, and dragon. Par- 
ticularly characteristic of Eusebius is his treatment of pairs of 
subjects which are opposites, e.g. earth and sea, right and wrong, 
humility and pride, life and death. 

Boniface, too, in much the same learned manner produced a 


small collection of twenty riddles, ten of which deal with the © 


chief vices, and ten with the chief virtues. In his verse, too, 
as in the case of that of Aldhelm, alliterative effect sometimes 
makes a curious appearance. 

It was amid a literary atmosphere of this kind, and under the 
stimulus of these fashions, that the Anglo-Saxon riddles were 
collected, and, no doubt, the Latin riddle was the quickening 
spirit which brought many of them into being. 

On turning, however, to the Anglo-Saxon collection, it is at 
once evident that they contain much poetry that is wonderfully 
vigorous and fresh, marked by emotional and imaginative qualities 
quite unparalleled in the Latin riddles—a poetry in the making 
of which heart has played a greater share than head. Undoubtedly 
to some extent this contrast is due to the inherent differences in 
the nature of the two languages, the Anglo-Saxon deriving a 
greater vigour from the preponderance of epithet and substantive 
in its diction, and a greater freshness and vividness from the 
‘concrete’ character and elemental simplicity of its vocabulary. 
Considered as imitations of the Latin riddles the Anglo-Saxon 
riddles are poor; they lack brilliance, and sometimes are without 
definiteness and logical unity, for instance in the riddle on the 
‘bow’ there are introduced, as main ideas, thoughts about the 
arrows and the quiver, and a similar confusion marks that on the 
‘draw-well.’+ On the other hand, most of the Latin riddles 
(especially those of Symposius) insert characteristics and qualities 
barely and tersely, with an eye strictly fixed upon the riddle and 
that witty evasiveness which a riddle should attempt to achieve ; 
but in the best of the Anglo-Saxon riddles there is a marked con- 
tinuity and development of description, and a tendency to dwell 


* If this be the subject of riddle 53. The point is referred to again in 
comment on that riddle. 


a a 


THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 19 


upon all that is pictorial or poetically suggestive in the theme. 
To the Anglo-Saxon writers the riddle was no mere jew d’esprit ; 
the Latin writers might treat their subjects merely as offering 
opportunities for elegant versification and for the display of 
learning and preciosity, but the Anglo-Saxon poets took their 
riddling seriously, and often with rare depth of feeling wrote of 
their themes imaginatively, breathed human personality into them, 
and made them speak of their origins, their fortunes, their joys 
and sorrows. In the best of the Anglo-Saxon riddles we are in 
touch with the poetry of a young and virile race, we feel some- 
thing of ‘the freshness of the early world’; but in the Latin 
riddles we have to do with the play of the scholar, and the 
atmosphere of learning and of the cloister clings about them. 


IV 


In the extant body of Anglo-Saxon poetry the riddles hold a 
unique place because of the many and various points at which 
they touch the lives of Englishmen during these eighth-century 
days of settlement and changing manners. They reflect to a 
remarkable degree the circumstances and conditions of life amid 
which they were collected and perhaps made. The old life of 
roving and marauding had given place to a new one, and here and 
there in the riddles we get glimpses of a people living in secluded 
hamlets pursuing a pastoral and settled life upon reclaimed 
moorland or amid forest clearings (22). This people ground corn 
(5), and used a plough (22), which was drawn by the ox (35), and 
guided by him who had cut down the trees and made the plough- 
land ; there were still great ‘filthy’ marshlands (41, 31) near to 
the seashore, which were far from the dwellings of men, and covered 
with tangled and decaying seaweed (61 and 41); and there were, 
too, wild woodlands in which the swine and wild boar roved (41). 
The settlers practised the art of weaving (26), and there is a 
pronounced note of settled domesticity in the mention of the 
watch-dog, gentle to its mistress, and of the water-pails. The 
dark-visaged Celt (‘swearte Wealas’) who performed menial 
labours for his Saxon conqueror appears no less than four times 
(13, 50, 53, 72) ; in (50) a ‘ dark-faced thane ’ carries books to and 
fro in the monastery ; in (53) he is a drawer of water; and in 
(72) a herdsman. In (9) we have a pleasant hint of evening 
leisure amid the little woodland community, which is charmed 


20 THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 


with the mellow note of the nightingale’s (or wood dove’s) 


song -— . .. stille on wicum | 
sittad (h)nigende. 


In some riddles, religion and the monastic atmosphere are 
strongly in evidence. The religious element appears most directly 
in those which deal with the appurtenances of ritual, e.g. the riddles 
on the chalice (60) and (49); scholarly interests are represented 
by the riddles which speak of wisdom (42), pen and fingers (52), 
ereation (41 and 67), soul and body (44), and also by those dealing 
with the book (27), the book-chest (50), the inkhorn (93), the book- 
moth (48), and letters of the alphabet (14). In some of these, 
and also in some others, the religious colouring is very definite 
e.g. the book (27) is a ‘holy’ one, which will make those who 
peruse it ‘sounder, more steadfast, stronger in heart’; (41) 
celebrates ‘the mighty Lord who stirs through all its parts, this 
earth, with His power’; (60) speaks of the wounds of Christ and 
the efficacy of prayer; in (56) the sword in its sheath recalls to 
the poet ‘the cross of Him who reared for mortals a ladder 
up to heaven’; in (7) the sun goes forth at the behest of * Christ, 
the good ruler of men,’ and in (39) ‘the defender of beings ’ in 
His providence sends ‘four wells’ to spurt forth for the young 
one’s sustenance. | 

But religion and learning had other and deeper effects. They 
both sank with something of a beneficent and softening influence 
into the rugged and sad deeps of the Anglo-Saxon temperament— 
perhaps, too, the comparatively gay and volatile temperament of 
the early Celtic teachers and missionaries contributed something 
to this effect. Certainly images of a gentler and more genial 
order begin to find a place in poetry, and opportunity is found 
to celebrate the joyousness of green fields and sunshine. Some- 
times it enters through an analogy or metaphor or through some 
word or phrase which bears a gracious suggestion. The riddles 
are especially rich in these touches of delight in brighter and 
more kindly themes than those of storm and strife and wintry 
farings over ice-cold seas. (54), in describing the battering-ram— 
a dire monster of warfare—commences with a buoyant reference 
to the greenery of trees in springtime ; (71) which speaks of the 
flowers as ‘the bright-visaged ones’; (35) telling how the rake 
spares the firm stalks so that they might continue to ‘ gleam and 
blow ’ in the sunshine—all betray a poetic sympathy with plants — 


THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 21 


and flowers; while the riddles on the swan (8), whose wings 
murmur in its flight; on the mead (28), describing the bees bear- 
ing honey through the air ‘from denes and from downs,’; on the 
swallows (58) as they skim over the hilltops; on the ‘nightingale ’ 
(9) all strike notes in our early poetry unusually happy and fresh. 
Riddle 67 expresses the very essence of this newer spirit :— 


. ses me sind ealle 
flodas on fedmum ¥ pes foldan bearm, 
. grene wongas. 


This expansion of sympathy is also illustrated by those riddles 
which betray the awakening of primitive minds to the contrasts 
and strange transformations of nature, and to the glory and the 
wonder of the world. It does not seem hard to divine why, of 
all Aldhelm’s riddles, the Anglo-Saxon writer should choose the 
4ist for literal translation, for it is the crude and reiterated 
expression of a naive wonder startled at surveying the extremes 
of nature’s powers and manifestations. Riddles 32, 33, and 40 
all contain praises for ‘this wondrous world,’ while running 
through those on themes so diverse as the ‘ forge-bellows,’ the 
‘iceberg,’ the ‘onion,’ there is a suggestion of pleased surprise 
at the cyclic continuity of life which those things display :—the 
onion sprouted aforetimes, yet it once again will come forth ; 
the iceberg is both a mother and a daughter of water; and the 

bellows, though ever breathing out life, will continue to renew it. 

The runes are conceived as half-mysterious symbols able to 
answer the very puzzle which they are used to propound, and 61 
expresses wonder at how a thing of wild nature when craftily 
prepared by the knife of a man, can convey a message. No 
doubt to some extent this presentation of the subject as an 
object of wonder suits the riddler’s purpose, but it does not seem 
to have been entirely due to convention. It reflects a certain 
animation of mind and the stir of new interests, and it proves 
that new points of view made things of quite ordinary and humble 
experience yield a curious delight. 

Such, then, were some of the ways in which new influences 
and changed conditions of life are reflected in the riddle poetry 
of a people whose instincts had hitherto been predatory and 
vagrant. 

But in spite of Christianity, and the mellowing influence of 
books and learning, much of the stern heathen temper remained. 


22 THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 


Many of the riddles, in tone and spirit, closely approach the 
heroic lays of an earlier and more warlike age. The analogies 
by which the riddle subjects are described, and the imagery of 
many of the poems are to a great extent distinctively such as 
belong to Northern paganism and its ‘unchristened chivalry.’ 
The wistful melancholy and the eager zest for battle which invest 
the ‘old unhappy far-off things’ of Beowulf appear not in- 
frequently in the riddle, and serve to give high seriousness and 
heroic temper to the ‘more humble lay—tamiliar matter of to- 
day ’—which thus entered for the first time into the body of our 
recorded poetry. It is to this persistence of the old spirit that 
Prehn ! refers when he describes how the new material ‘ vielfach 
mit Anklangen an die geschwundene Herrlichkeit des heidnischen 
Zeitalters durchsetzt ist, deren frischer Hauch noch nicht von 
der durch jene grossartige Gedankenumwéalzung erzeugten Schwile 
erstickt war.’ This pagan temperament sometimes displays itself 
as a childish delight in bright things, as when Beowulf sent Wiglaf 
to bring into view the hoard of gold and bright cunning gems 
that he might see it ere he died : and in the riddles barbaric adorn- 
ment, bright colour, fantastic wirebands of precious metal, glitter 
again and again; the horn (15), the sword (21), the book-cover 
(27), the goblet (64), are either bedecked with wire, or are 
‘ gloriously adorned ’ with gold and silver ; the subject of (68) is 
‘ornamented with gold and with treasure of silver’; the wine 
(12) is * bright red and clear’ ; the book is ‘ stained with red-dye.’ 

Among the most vivid and passionate poems of the whole 
collection are those which treat of weapons and the ways of 
warriors, or which poetically ascribe the attributes of warriors 
to inanimate objects. The poet or poets who wrote the riddles 
on the shield (6), the spear (73), the helmet (81), the bow (24), 
the sword (21), enshrined in them the very soul of Teutonic 
heathendom, with all its unrelenting hatred, its lust for strife, 
its Joy in ‘battlework.’ Other objects, too, are inspired with 
the same spirit ; the bow (24) spits forth its poisoned shafts and 
grimly promises death to those who are but touched with them ; 
the badger (16) bears ‘ battle weapons,’ and will use them when 
the enemy presses, ‘ dealing strokes with its war-darts upon the 
hateful foe’; the ‘iceberg’ exults in the destruction it can 
work, it is ‘bitter in battle-work’ and ‘grim in hate’; the warp 


* Prehn, Komposition und Quellen der Rédtsel des Eaxeterbuches. Miinster 
(1883), introduction. 


THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 23 


(57) is ‘ wounded with woeful spears,’ and its life is one of forlorn 
strife ; like a warrior with ‘ hleahtor gryrelic ’ leaping upon a foe, 
the ship sends out shrill yells as it strikes against the shore; even 
the quill-pen (52), symbol of learning and peace, is imbued with 
the joy of conflict, and, like a ‘struggling warrior,’ restlessly urges 
its way over the parchment. 

The faithfulness of the fighter who does the will of his lord is an 
idea which enters very extensively into the riddles and con- 
tributes in no small degree to their poetry. No ethical influence 
had greater power over the Teutonic warrior than that relation- 
ship of thegn to lord which called forth implicit obedience and 
loyal service. The riddles upon the utensils of ordinary life no 
less than those upon the implements of warfare draw much 
of their appeal, and strength from this ‘ Unterthanenverhiltniss.’ 
To these humble objects all the service they yield to man is a 
part of their thegnhood ; the millstone (5) knows its duty :— 


‘ic sceal pragbysig pegne minum . . . hyran georne’ ; 
the key (91) has a ‘lord’ who must be obeyed; the pail in (59) 
life ne gielped, 
hlafordes gifum, hyred swa peana 
peodne sinum ; 


the baker’s oven, if such be the subject of (18), has a ‘lord’ who 
has set him to protect a hoard; the soul in (44) is one whom :— 


. se grimma ne meg 
hungor scedéan ne se hata purst 


gif him arlice esne pena®s. 

There is often, however, a conscious subjection of self to the 
claims of duty, nor is this subjection achieved without spiritual 
strife. In the case of the storm spirit and indeed ‘in vielen 
ahniichen Fallen zeigt der Untergebene ein gewisses Schwanken 
zwischen Pflichtgeftihl und Unzufriedenheit mit seinem Lose’...1 
but duty conquers. Nowhere is the fine flower of this early 
chivalry displayed to better advantage or used with greater 
poetic effect than in the riddle on the sword (21). The sword is 
sent forth to do battle, it is greedy of praise, experiences the 
weariness of warfare, yet loyalty to its lord is a stronger motive 
than even the love of women, and so it is led to a sad though 
willing self-renunciation and submission to fate. 


1 Prehn, Komposition und Quellen. 


24 THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 


Closely allied with these warlike conceptions, and to some 
extent the counterpart of them, we have a brooding melancholy 
and an elegiac tone. This combination of apparent opposites is 
only natural to a people in whom the emotional nature is full 
and deep, and so, in common with other Anglo-Saxon poetry, 
the riddles do not fail to ‘bring the eternal note of sadness in,’ 
with the result that these small poems of a type nowadays 
usually associated with happy leisure and sparkling wit often have 
a mournful tone and sombre earnestness little to be expected in 
such compositions. 

For the Anglo-Saxon mind the harsh and dark manifestations 
of nature had still a strange fascination, and out of the contempla- 
tion of these they sucked melancholy. The stag (93) shakes 
the hoarfrost from its hair; the helmet (81) is covered with 
hoar-frost, and the rain streams and hard hail beat upon it ; even 
time is reckoned in ‘ winters’ (83). In (2, 3, 4), so full of the 
imagery of nature in tumult, there is perhaps something of the — 
old joy in the storm—in the onset of mighty breakers upon stony 
cliffs, and in the wail of the troubled waters ; but more often 
instead of being contemplated with joy, ‘ blown seas and storming 
showers ’ are represented as a part of the inevitable fate which 
heroes must endure. | 

But the riddle hero becomes most wistful as he contemplates 
the vicissitudes of things ; in many instances the heyday of life 
and the joy of youth have been left far behind. The metal of 
which the helmet is made once lay under the flowers ; since now 
it has passed through the fire, and is now but the ‘ leaving of the 
fiends.’ The spear (73), once nourished by earth and heaven’s 
clouds, is now indeed fallen in estate, for it is set to do a 
murderer’s will; the battering ram has exchanged the pleasant 
hillside for strife; the horn (93), which once adorned the head 
of a stag, and was joyously borne over steep heights and deep 
dales, has endured sad change; it is ‘hard bitten by steel,’ and 
since it is helpless in misfortune, must continue miserably to 
suffer. Thus our forefathers, even in the poetry of little things, 
introduced the old sad thoughts of war and wyrd ; new influences 
had produced expanding sympathies, expanding sympathies had 
drawn into the realm of poetry much new material, but neither 
settled life nor religion nor learning could dispel the profound 
essential melancholy of the Teutonic temperament. 


THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 25 


Vv 


Apart from the critical interest which has been awakened by 
suggested solutions to the riddles, nearly all criticism has con- 
cerned itself with the problem of origin, and, more particularly, 
with the much discussed hypothesis which ascribed the whole 
collection to Cynewulf. 

So long as the theory of single authorship found favour it 
gave probability to certain subsidiary theories. It was held, 
for instance, that the Anglo-Saxon riddles show that a consistent 
use had been made of the Latin riddle collections of Aldhelm, 
Symposius, Tatwine, and Eusebius, for after a dependence had 
been established in a few cases, any variation which Latin and 
Saxon riddles on the same or similar subjects displayed was read 
as a conscious and intentional divergence of the Anglo-Saxon 
poet from his originals. Again, the diverse and manifold interests 
which the riddles display were accounted for by the supposition 
that the author wished to appeal to all sorts and conditions of 
men, and therefore purposely framed his riddle series so as to 
reflect in all its variety, from the humble to the heroic, the 
complete cycle of Saxon life and manners. 

When, however, the so-called ‘first riddle’ yielded up its 
secret, the strongest evidence supporting the Cynewulfian theory 
of authorship was gone, and the fabric of supposition which that 


ill-founded hypothesis had been made to support showed signs 


of serious weakness. Though some few of the riddles are un- 
doubtedly directly indebted to Latin originals, the almost com- 
plete dependence which was once reputed to exist can be no 
longer accepted. Moreover, the wide differences of the Anglo- 
Saxon riddles in length, manner, and poetic quality, which 
Cynewulf’s width of sympathy and audience were used to explain, 
have now to be considered one of the strongest arguments against 
any supposition that the riddles were intended to form a collec- 
tion carefully conceived to appeal to varied tastes and varied 
audiences. 

The discussion of these problems of authorship, of the unity 
of the collection, and of the supposed relation of the riddles to 
Latin sources, is developed in greater detail in the sections 


immediately following. 


(a) 


The idea that Cynewulf wrote the riddles naturally arose 


26 THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 


with Leo’s announcement that the first riddle contained the 
name ‘ Cynewulf’ in charade form. Kemble and Grimm * had 
previously discovered the meaning of the runes in the Christ, 
Juliana, and Elene, and this manner of cunning signature 
which Cynewulf had been proved to use made the supposition 
likely that he had hidden the secret of his authorship in other 
poems too. When in 1859 Dietrich? solved the 95th riddle as 
‘the wandering singer,’ and suggested that the repeated occurrence 
of ‘lupus’ in the Latin riddle was an intended reference to 
Cynewulf, the theory that he was the author of the riddles seemed 
to be quite well authenticated. It was supposed that the poet 
had described his wandering gay youth in the last riddle, signed 
his name in the first, and darkly suggested it in the 90th. 

It was in 1883 that Trautmann, though with equally erroneous 
solutions, struck the first blow at this theory of Cynewulfian 
authorship, yet among some critics it was favoured until the 
mystery of the first riddle was dispelled in 1902. In 1891 Herz- 
feld + attempted to support it by a ‘ stylistiche Untersuchung,’ 
and, after an investigation of the vocabulary and phraseology of 
the riddles, concluded that they differed so little from Cynewuli’s 
authentic work that ‘nach meiner Ansicht ist es zwar nicht 
unbedingt sicher aber doch in hohem Grade wahrscheinlich, dass 
die Rathsel in ihrem vollen Umfange den Dichter Cynewulf zum 
Verfasser haben.’°® Unfortunately, among all the phrases and 
expressions which Herzfeld brings as evidence, there is no one 
which appears exclusively in the riddles and in the authentic 
Cynewulfian poems, while of poetic synonyms occurring in the 
riddles for such ideas as God, Hell, Earth, Sea, Ships, Weapons, 
etc., there are considerably more correspondences *® outside 
Cynewulf’s authentic works than within. As a method of 
investigating authorship the ‘stylistische Untersuchung’ is 
fallacious and inconclusive, for, in Old English, epithet, imagery, 
and style are, to a great extent, formal and conventional, and : 
similarities may be due to the force of literary tradition. 

Philological investigation is, however, far more fruitful, and 


* Grimm in preface to Andreas und Elene ; Kemble in Essay on Anglo-Saxon 
Runes in Archeologia. 

* Haupt, Zeitschrift fiir deutsches Alterthum, xi., afterwards referred to by 
‘Zi: f..d.-A, 3 Anglia, vi. Heft 4. 

* Herzfeld, Die Rdtsel des Exeterbuches und ihr Verfasser. Berlin, 1890. 

° Herzfeld, p. 64. 

§ As Madert has shown in Die Cynewulffrage. Marburg, 1900. 


THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 27 


as a result of Sievers’s research! at least some of the riddles must 
be ascribed to a period before the time of Cynewulf. The field of 
investigation is necessarily restricted ; for, since the riddles are 
only extant in the form of an eleventh-century West-Saxon 
transcript, philological considerations can be brought to bear 
successfully only upon those words which must originally have 
been manifestly different from the form now given (e.g. ‘agof’? 
must originally have been ‘agob’), or which the transcriber 
would be constrained to preserve in their original form (e.g. the 
rune words in the rune-riddles) ; the Leyden riddle, too, is of some 
value as philological evidence in so far as it is a Northumbrian 
fragment of which (36) is a copy in West Saxon. 

The following are the main considerations which seem to 
suggest that the riddles must be ascribed to a pre-Cynewulfian 
period :— 


1. All poems known to be of Cynewulfian origin fall in the 
period when unstressed ‘e’ had taken the place of un- 
stressed *i.’ Since in the Leyden riddle there are found 
forms displaying this unstressed ‘i,’ it is to be supposed 
that this riddle, at any rate, belongs to a period before 
‘e’ usurped its place. Presuming that this change came 
about in Northumbria about the same time as in Mercia 
and the south, this riddle must be ascribed to a pre- 

-Cynewulfian date.® cnieat 

2. The occurrence of ‘agof’ as the inverted form of ‘boga’ must 
suggest the existence of a previous form ‘agob.’ Now 
the use of a final b to represent a sound like English v 
declined before 750,* and the ‘b,’ which by the copyist 
was evidently taken to bear this sound, was trans- 
literated by the later and more usual f (see also Sievers, 
Gr., §191). Undoubtedly, therefore, riddle 24 in its 
original form belongs to the first half of the eighth 
century, and ‘ wahrscheinlich eher nach dem Anfange 
als nach dem Ende dieses Zeitraumes.’ 

3. From the runes of riddle 43 the answer ‘ hana,’ ‘ hen’ is ob- 


1 Anglia, xiii. p. 1 ff—H. Sievers, ‘ Zu Cynewulf.’ 

* Riddle 24, line 1. 

8 ‘Der Ubergang von izu e aber ist im Siiden- und Mittellande etwa um die 
Mitte des 8. Jahrhunderts eingetreten ’ (Sievers, Anglia, xiii.). 

+ Sievers, Anglia, xiii. 1 ff.: ‘Silbenauslautendes b fiir germanic 6 geht aber 
nicht, im allgemeinen, tiber die Mitte des 8. Jahrhunderts hinaus.’ 


28 THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 


tained. The form eas the mutated form of ‘a’ in heen, 
and the ‘a’ before ‘n’ in place of the customary ‘0’ 
suggest the beginning of the eighth century as the latest 
period in which this riddle could have been originally 
framed. 


Sievers pithily summarises this evidence thus: * Das Gesammt- 
resultat dieser sich gegenseitig stiitzenden Krwagungen ist also, 
dass die erste Aufzeichnung der Ratsel in die Periode des i und die 
noch friiher zu Ende gehende Periode des auslautenden b, des 
‘a’ vor nasalen und des unumgelauteten ‘a’ vor ‘u’ fallt ; 
also auch vermutlich in die Zeit vor Cynewulf der seinen Namen 
selbst mit ‘e’ schreibt.’ 

The theory, however, is not without its difficulties. In 
riddle 20 the runes transliterated give hxfoc and mon. Unless 
these forms be conveniently accounted for by carelessness on the 
part of the scribe, the first is curious and quite sua generis ; while 
the second must be considered as nullifying any probability based 
on the occurrence of the ‘a’ in ‘hana.’ With respect to haofoc, the 
mark which would distinguish the ‘2’ rune from the ‘a’ rune is 
uncertain, so that the form intended may really be ‘ hxofoc’, but 
unfortunately, ‘wir haben allen Grund... auch die Form 
haeofoc ebenso zu verwerfen wie die Form haofoc . . . die erste 
Halfte des 8. Jahrhunderts konnte nur die Form hafoc oder haboc 
von rechtswegen zukommen.’1! In case of the form ‘mon’ it is 
scarcely necessary to suppose any mistake on the part of the 
copyist, though the ‘a’ rune could easily be mistaken for the ‘ 0’ 
rune by a writer familiar with the ‘mon’ form of the word. The 
difficulty vanishes, however, if, in accordance with the evidence, 


we consider the riddle as having been originally composed later 


than the 43rd.2 

Conclusions based upon such scanty evidence drawn from so 
few riddles must be guardedly used—especially as there is no 
ground for supposing that the riddles were composed by one 
writer, or even during the same period. There is happily much 
corroborative evidence * drawn from a much larger number of 
riddles which supports the view that, generally speaking, the 
whole series is of early date, e.g. :— 

1 Sievers, Anglia, xiii. 

* Lichtenheld’s theory. Z. f.d. A., xvi. 325—percentages taken from Madert, 
Die Cynewulffrage. 

* Based on Madert’s Cynewulffrage. 


——— 


THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 29 


1. Since the article is used with a demonstrative force to a 
much greater extent in the earlier poems than in the 
later, it therefore occurs much less frequently in the 
earlier poems. In Beowulf it occurs in nine and a half 
per cent. of the verses ; in the Andreas (a Cynewulfian 
poem), in thirteen per cent. ; in the Genesis twelve per 
cent.; in a late poem, such as the Death of Bryhtnoth 
twenty-six per cent. In the riddles, however, it is only 
met with in nine per cent. of the verses. 

2. In early writings comparison is more often expressed by 
the dative than by ponne with the nominative. In those 
riddles in which comparative statements occur we have 
almost invariably the dative,* e.g. :— 


(a) hyrre ic eom heofone (41, 38). 
(0) ic eordan eom eghwaer breedre (41, 50). 
(c) hnescre ic eom micle halsrefedre (41, 80). 
(dq) hrusan bip heardra, hele pum frodra, 
geofum bip gearora, gimmum deorra (84. Il. 35 
and 36). 

3. The use of purh in its primary sense is a sign of early 
origin. In the recognised works of Cynewulf this only 
occurs twice, both examples in the Crist, and one 
instance is manifestly due to an attempt to render 
literally per saecula saeculorum’ (purh worold worulda 
(lesi78))): 


Though of themselves not sufficient to base generalisations 
upon, the following points may not be entirely without signifi- 
cance when considered with the conclusion which previous 
considerations suggest :— 


1. In the riddles only the form ‘ folgian’ is used, whereas Cyne- 
_ wulf invariably uses fylgian. 

2. In the riddles ‘sin,’ as well as his, hyre, hyra, etc., is used to 
express possession; in the riddles, too, the idea of 
possession is occasionally strengthened by the addition 
of ‘agen’ to the possessive pronoun (e.g. hire agen 
bearn (10-6)). Neither mode of expressing possession 
appears in the Cynewulfian poems. 


Thus Sievers’s conclusions, though based upon phonological 
phenomena to be found only in two or three riddles, are reinforced 


+ Some exceptions occur in the translated riddle, No. 4], 


30 THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 


by considerations of syntactical constructions drawn from a much 
wider field, and it seems reasonable to suppose that the riddles 
are not of Cynewulfian origin, but were originally written in a 
pre-Cynewulfian period—perhaps during the first thirty years of 
the eighth century. 


(0) 

Though Cynewulf in all probability was not their author, 
the question whether the riddles were produced by any one writer 
still remains for consideration. 

Dietrich 1 based a conjecture that all could not be by the 
same author on the ground that the riddles display repetitions 
both of theme and method, and that they occur in scattered 
eroups: ‘Hin Bedenken dagegen dass die ganze Masse von 
einem Verfasser sei, entsteht daraus, dass. sie in der einzigen 
hds, der von Exeter, nicht als ein fortlaufendes Ganze vorliegt.’ 

In his later treatment Dietrich divides the riddles into two 
distinct groups, an A group anda B group. The A group, consisting 
of the first sixty riddles, he ascribes to one author on the ground of 
a similar use of Latin originals, certain correspondences in treat- 
ment and modes of expression and ‘der Zusammenhang in 
Gedanken,’ and this author, on considerations of style and 
language, he identifies as Cynewulf. The B group he does not 
consider as Cynewulf’s, for there are none of Cynewulf’s favourite 
expressions used ; the riddles in this group are ‘ kinstlicher in 
der Ausfiihrung ’ than those in A.? 

Prehn (1883), impressed by the extensive area over which We 
themes range, and accepting the current theory relating the 
riddles to Cynewulf, boldly and unreservedly proclaimed them a 
complete whole, consciously compiled and purposely varied to 
appeal to all the different interests which a wandering singer 
who sang to both high and low could be expected to meet with 
in his audiences ; duplicate workings of the same theme were 
included so that different tastes might be satisfied. ‘Nach dem 
vorher Gesagten erscheint es unzweifelhaft, dass die Ratsel des 
{xeterbuches ein beabsichtigtes Ganze bilden.’ ® 

Curiously enough, what deterred Dietrich from postulating a 
single author, Prehn makes the mainstay of his theory, and 
while Dietrich divided his riddles into two distinct groups, Prehn 


FHA faa three 4 WG bray 05 ahi 2 T[bid., xii, 
3 Prehn, Kompostiion und Quellen, p. 150, 


ee 


THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 31 


divided his audience: ‘ Wenn Dietrich anfangs geneigt war, aus 
dieser Thatsache auf das Vorhandensein mehrerer Verfasser zu 
schliessen, weil sich ein guter Dichter nicht wiederholt, so tiber- 
sieht er erstlich die in unserer Einleitung geschilderte Art und 
Weise, in welcher die Ratsel dem Publikum vermittelt wurden, 
und ferner dass Cynewulfs Zuhorer sich nach ihrem Bildungs- 
grade in zwei Gruppen spalteten, welche beide vom Dichter 
berticksichtigt werden mussten und eine verschiedene Darstellung 
bedingten.’ 1 Herzfeld, too, thought the riddles must be ascribed 
to one author on account of ‘die zahlreiche Ubereinstimmung 
der Ratsel unter einander, sowohl was die Wahl der Gegenstande 
als was einzelne Wendungen betrifft.’* He sees throughout the 
riddles ‘eine ziemlich gleichartige Benutzung der lateinischen 
Ratsel,’ and, like Prehn, he does not consider the fact that there 
are double treatments of the same subject prohibitive to the theory 
of single authorship, though he accounts for the phenomenon 
differently : “Denn thatsachlich haben zu allen Zeiten Dichter 
denselben Gegenstand wiederholt behandelt, indem sie ihn ihrer 
fortgeschrittenen Technik oder ihren wechselnden Anschauungen 
und Erfahrungen anpassten.’ 

Holthaus (1884), however, in his review of Prehn’s Kompost- 
tion, attacked the theory that there was any inner unity binding 
the series together : ‘ Aber so schon auch diese Verkntipfung der 
ausgesuchten Ratsel sein mag, so kann sie uns doch nicht 
von einem innern Zusammenhange der Gegenstinde tiberzeugen 

. von einer einheitlichen Idee haben wir nichts merken 
konnen.’ ? 

Bulbring (1891), in his review of Herzfeld,’ claims that the 
Anglo-Saxon collection might very probably be as miscellaneous 
in origin and authorship as some of the Latin collections of the 
eighth and ninth centuries. To collect riddles, whatever their 
source might be, would seem to have been as fashionable in the 
world of scholarship as to compose them, and consequently : 
‘Ohne vollkommenen Gegenbeweis solle man lieber annehmen 
dass die Angelsachsen wie mehr als einen lateinischen Ratsel so 
auch mehrere altenglische gehabt haben. Wie man bei einer 
Sammlung von Volksliedern schwerlich an einen einzigen Verfasser 
denken wird, so darf man es meines Hrachtens ebensowenig bei 


1 Prehn, Komposition und Quellen, p. 269. 
® Die Rdtsel und thr Verfasser (Berlin, 1891), p. 5. 3 Anglia, Anzeiger vii, 
* Literaturbl. f. germ. und rém. Philol., pp. 155-8 (1891). 


32 THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 


Da 


diesen Ritseln, die mit geringen Ausnahmen doch auch ein 
Produkt der Volkspoesie sind.’ 

When, after the appearance of Sievers’s article, the fortunes 
of the Cynewulfian theory of authorship began to decline, there 
is a distinct tendency noticeable to discard any notion of single 
authorship or essential unity. Herzfeld * has recanted his former 
faith, and now says : ‘ Ich gehe sogar noch weiter als Madert und 
glaube auch nicht dass die Ratsel das Werk eines Dichters sind’ ; 
while Trautmann ? is more emphatic still, and declares: ‘ Diese 
(die Ritsel) entstammen von verschiedenen Zeiten und Dichtern.’ 

In reality, now that the obsessing idea that Cynewulf wrote 
the riddles is dispelled, there are no grounds left which can in 
any way suggest that the riddles are the work of one author, or 
that they form a preconceived whole. 

Herzfeld’s argument for unity, based on the occurrence of 
similar phrases and epithets, as has been already shown, proves 
nothing. Anglo-Saxon is a language marked by considerable 
constancy in these matters, and the powerful influence of literary 
tradition excluded from the body of its poetry any very marked 
individuality of diction. 

The most powerful and incontestable argument against the 
theory is to be found in the extremely varied form, content, and 
poetic qualities of the riddles. There are the coarse and vulgar 
riddles 43, 63, 55, in marked contrast with the noble and exalted 
poetry of riddles 2, 3, 4, 16, 21, 88, 93; there are plain, artless folk- 
puzzles, like riddles 78, 75, 86, 66, in company with the pretty 
and artistically pleasing poems 35, 8, 9, 22, 57. Then, again, 


the occurrence of the riddles in broken sequence, the fact that 


there is considerable repetition of what is practically the same 
riddle in slightly different form, all support the view that they 
are aS miscellaneous in origin as they are in form and manner. 
Some are the work of poets of a high order, while others appear 
in a form very little altered, if any, from that in which they were 
used in the feast-hall for the entertainment of rough but simple- 
minded men. | 


(c) 


The discussion of the precise relationship existing between 
the Latin riddles and the Anglo-Saxon riddles was first opened 


1 Archiv f. d. Studium, u.s.w., evi. (N.S. vi-), p. 390. 
* Trautmann, Kynewulf—Bischof und Dichter. Bonn, 1898, 


Oe a 


THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 33 


by Thorpe when, in the course of the preface to his Codex Hxoni- 
ensis, he spoke of the Exeter riddles as ‘too essentially Anglo- 
Saxon to justify the belief that they are other than original 
productions,’ though at the same time he lays it down as a 
possibility that the Aenigmata of Symposius, Aldhelm, and Bede 
may “occasionally have suggested a subject to our scdp whereon 
to exercise his skill.’ 

Dietrich, however, in 1859 led the way with the theory that 
many of the riddles had a direct dependence upon Latin originals, 
that some were dependent upon Aldhelm and some on Symposius, 
and that the author sometimes followed his originals very closely 
and sometimes used them more freely—extending and elaborating 
the material he had selected. 

Respecting Thorpe, Dietrich? said: ‘Die Originalitat der 
Form erkenne ich bei den meisten mit ihm, aber die Meinung, dass 
dies auch vom Inhalte gilt kann nur so lange bestehen, als man 
nicht untersucht hat.’ Besides the actual correspondences 
between the Latin riddles and the Anglo-Saxon riddles, there is 
evidence, so Dietrich thought, in the riddles themselves that the 
material was of bookish origin: ‘ Der Dichter verraét vielmehr 
selbst zuweilen dass er schriftliche Quellen benutzte.’ As examples 
of these evidences he mentions the learned Latin words in 41 ; 
the reference to a writer in 39, 1. 5; the references to books and 
those who know books in 40 and 43. Besides Symposius and 
Aldhelm, Dietrich * suspects the existence of a third source: 
‘ Hine dritte lateinische Quelle kann ich nur vermuten, aber nicht 
selbst nachweisen.’ 

In 1877 Ebert* suggested the collections of Tatwine and 
Kusebius as further sources to which the Anglo-Saxon riddles are 
indebted : ‘Wie meine Anmerkungen zeigen, ist es sehr wahrschein- 
lich dass Cynewulf den Tatwine, unzweifelhaft aber dass er den 
Eusebius, benutzt hat.’ This theory of direct dependence has had 
no more strenuous advocate than Prehn, the greater part of whose 
monograph deals with ‘ Quellen.’ Dietrich and Ebert had given a 
certain degree of probability to their suggestion by citing examples 
of more or less close resemblances. Prehn takes their work ‘nur 
als eine Anregung zu einer systematischen Untersuchung der 


1 Codex EHxomensis, preface, p. 10. 2Z.f.d. A., xi. p. 450. 

3 Ibid., p. 457. 

4 Ebert in Berichte tiber die Verhandlungen, u.s.w., vol. xxix. on ‘ Die Ritsel- 
Poesie der Angelsachsen.’ 


Cc 


34 THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 


Quellenverhaltnisse der Exeter-ratsel,’ and proceeds to ascribe to 
‘ynewulf, their supposed author, an altogether curious ingenuity 
in fitting together motives and ideas presumed to have been taken 
exclusively from Symposius, Aldhelm, Tatwine, and Eusebius. 

As representative of Prehn’s method, his treatment * of riddle — 
27 may be cited: ‘Das vorliegende Réatsel mochte wegen 
seines Quellenreichtums als die unselbstandigste Leistung Cyne- 
wulf’s erscheinen, da sich jeder Gedanke desselben bald bei 
diesem bald bei jenem unserer lateinischen Gewahrsmanner 
wiederfindet.’ Aldhelm’s riddles, “de pugillaribus ’ and ‘de penna 
scriptoria ’; Tatwine, ‘de membranis’ and ‘de penna’; Kuse- 
bius, ‘ de cera ’ and ‘ de penna ’ are all supposed to have suggested 
details which the Saxon poet has fused together and adorned. in 
this riddle on ‘ the book.’ 

According to Prehn, both Tatwine and Eusebius suggest, in 
ways quite unlike, the living beast from whose hide parchment is 
made :— 

Eusebius :—Antea per nos vox resonabat verba nequaquam. 

Tatwine :—Kfferus exuviis populator me spoliavit. 


The suggestion of the stiff boards and hide covering mentioned 
in ‘de pugillaribus,’ and in Tatwine, ‘de membranis ’ :— 
Aldhelm :—Sed pars exterior crescebat caetera silvis. 


Calceamenta mihi tradebant tergora dura. 
Tatwine :—In planum me iterum campum sed verterat auctor, 


is, according to Prehn, incorporated and developed in :— 


Dyfde on wetre, dyde eft ponan, 

sette on sunnan, per ic swide beleas 

herum, pam fe ic hefde. Heard mec siddan 
sna6 seaxes ecg sindrum begrunden, 

fingras feoldan . 

. . . Mec sid6an wrah. 

heeled hleobordum, hyde bepenede, 

gierede mec mid golde. 


In the mention of the writing in the book, Prehn would have us 
see a direct relation to Aldhelm’s ‘De penna scriptoria’ and 
Kusebius ‘ de penna ’ :— 

Aldhelm :—Candentique viae vestigia caerula linquo 


Lucida nigratis fuscans anfractibus arva. 
Kusebius :—Candida conspicior, vestigia taetra relinquens. 


* Komposition und Quellen, p. 190, 


THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 35 


These, says Prehn, the Saxon poet, after speaking of the ‘ fugles 
wyn ’ decorating the edges, represents by the two lines :— 


streames dele, stop eft on mec, 
sidade sweartlast. . . . 


Similarly, in more than twenty other cases is an Anglo-Saxon 
riddle ingeniously related by Prehn! to more than one Latin 
source. ‘Cynewulf in einer Anzahl von Fallen sich nicht mit der 
Benutzung einer einzigen Quelle begniigt sondern aus mehreren 
zu gleicher Zeit gesch6pft habe.’ ‘. . . die verschiedene Auffas- 
sung mehrerer Autoren eine grossere Auswahl von wesentlichen 
Merkmalen bot.’ Even the twenty-three riddles, ‘ welche unter 
dem mittelbaren Einflusse lateinischer Quellen stehen,’ he almost 
fears may be taken for ‘unabhangige Leistungen,’ and hastens 
to assure us that their independence is limited to the choice 
of material, for the old motives which have been used in 
other riddles are used again in different combinations. Precisely 
the same attitude characterised Ebert’s attitude to riddle pro- 
blems.* Speaking of the author of one of the Lorsch riddles he 
points out that the poet ‘aus drei Réatseln seiner Vorganger 
eines viertes zusammengebracht hat.’ This theory of fastidious 
choice from literary riddles followed by careful adjustment to 
suit an unlearned people was severely criticised in 1884 by Holt- 
haus:? ‘Die grosse Abhangigkeit welche Prehn ftir den Dichter 
_beweisen will, scheint uns doch nicht so einleuchtend und ausge- 
macht zu sein. Offenbar erfreuten sich die Ratsel einer grossen 
Beliebtheit bei den nordischen Vélkern jener Zeit.’ 

In order to justify the theory of a widespread riddle tradition 
he quotes what Ten Brink * has said of the epic and applies it to 
the riddle also: ‘Was aber jene Zeit wesentlich von der unseren 
unterscheidet : das Produkt der dichterischen Tatigkeit war nicht 
das Higentum, die Leistung eines einzelnen Sangers dauerte so 
lange als der Vortrag wahrte. Das Bleibende an dem, was er 
vortrug, der Stoff, die Ideen, ja Stil und Versmass waren gegeben..’ 

And it was, according to Holthaus, out of all the variety of this 
tradition that the Anglo-Saxon riddles derive both subject and 
manner: ‘ Besonders in den Fallen wo Prehn Ahnlichkeit der 
englischen Ratsel mit zwei oder drei lateinischen Dichtern nach- 
weist, waren wir geneigt nicht an unmittelbare Entlehnung zu 


* Komposition und Quellen, p. 158. he jie Oh, Fstop, Oily) 0 7400) 
* Anglia, Anzeiger vii. p. 124. 4 Interaturgeschichte, s. 17. 


eee = = 


36 THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 


denken, sondern zu glauben dass sowol die Gegenstande wie auch 
die Art der Betrachtung Gemeingut des Volkes geworden war und 
somit der Dichter nur bekanntes aufgenommen hatte, aber es 
doch eigenartig widergab.’ 

Herzfeld,! though not immediately concerned with the ques- 
tion of origins, thought that ‘die Mehrzahl wohl in der volks- 
tiimlichen Tradition ihre Wiirzel hat aus der die Dichter der 
latein. wie der a.e. Ratsel (unabhangig von einander) geschopft 
haben koénnen.’ 

During the last decade, however, Prehn’s position has been 
rendered less and less tenable by investigators who have called 
to their aid the various collection of ‘ Volksratsel’ and Kunst- 
ritsel ? which are available for study and comparison, as well as 
such books of early lore as Pliny’s Natural History. This com- 
parative method of riddle study has done much to establish 
solutions of Anglo-Saxon riddles already suggested, and to dis- 
credit others hitherto commonly accepted, while at the same time 
it has proved beyond doubt that the very attenuated relation 
which Prehn claimed to exist between the Latin and the Saxon 
riddlers was due in most cases to common sources rather than to 
any direct transference. It is with this belief that F. Tupper ? 
speaks of Prehn’s ‘ far too fruitful source hunt,’ of ‘ the unsound 
and perverted attempt of Prehn to find for every Exeter Book 
riddle a contemporary Latin source,’ and of the unfair exaggera- 
tion which has been made of the indebtedness of the Exeter Book 
riddles to the Latin problems so well known in the eighth century. 

The value of this wider outlook in helping to solve the problems 
presented by the Anglo-Saxon collection is well illustrated by 
the hitherto obscure 14th riddle. The solution of this has been 
the subject of much conjecture. T. Wright ? thought the subject 
to be ‘the aurelia of the butterfly and its transformations’ ; 
while Dietrich,* basing his conjecture on a certain riddle in — 
Aldhelm, gave as his solution ‘ the letters of the alphabet.’ Prehn ® 
concurred, and supported Dietrich’s solution by pointing out 
that the poet had also used Tatwine and Eusebius. Tupper ® 
has, however, detected in it elements of a widespread folk-riddle, 
and surmises that the subject is ‘Pen (or style) hand and glove.’ 


1 Die Rdtsel und thr Verfasser, p. 27. 

2 Mod. Lang. Notes, xviii. Nos. 1 and 4. 

8 Biographia Brit. Literaria, p. 80. AY Lief ca eles AeA Se 
5 Komposition und Quellen, p. 177. § Mod. Lang. Notes, xviii. 4 and xxi. 4, 


THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 37 


That this latter was a popular theme is evident from its occurrence, 
in varied form, in different collections. In these the glove is 
usually represented as ‘ hanging on the wall,’ and the fingers as 
travelling over the dark surface of the parchment. 

Bede + in the Flores gives a riddle on the theme, in which 
‘the skin hangs on the wall ’ :— 


‘Vidi fiium cum matre manducantem cujus pellis pendebat 
in pariete,’ 


while in St. Gall MS.,? 196, there are two other versions :— 


‘Vidi hominem ambulantem cum matre sua et pellis ei 
pendebat in pariete’ ; 


‘Vidi mulierem flentem et cum quinque fillis currentem cujus 
semita erat via et pergebat valde plana campestria.’ 


These at least suggest striking analogues to the phrases so difficult 
to account for in the Anglo-Saxon riddle :— 


(1) . . . fell hongedon 

Sweotol ond gesyne, on seles wege (lines 3 and 4). 
(2) turf tredan (line 1). 
(3) lond tredan (line 11). 


The riddle thus very probably signifies the ten fingers resting on 
the surface of the parchment on which one hand is writing. ‘The 
six brothers are possibly the six long fingers, and the four sisters 
the two small fingers together with the thumbs. The gloves 
(z.e. the ‘ skins ’ of the various fingers) are removed and are hung 
on the wall, while the fingers, none the worse for the loss of their 
‘skins,’ proceed :— 
.. . Musum slitan 
haswe blede. . . . (lines 8 and 9). 


(mup apparently in sense of snout, 1.e. the projecting pen or 
style.; haswe blede the MS. on which the hands are ‘ browsing ’). 
After the writing is done (v.e. after they have left ornaments in 
their track, “ Hregl bip geniwad ’—the gloves are put on. 
Trautmann ? replied to Tupper’s suggestion, and reaffirmed 
his own solution, ‘ten young chickens.’ According to him, the 
‘skin on the wall’ is the membrane lining the egg. The chicken 


1 Migne, Patrologia Latina, xciv. col. 539. 
* Quoted by Tupper in Mod. Lang. Notes. 
3 Trautmann, Bonner Bettrdge zur Anglistik, xix. p. 177. 


———Saa 


38 THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 


breaks the eggshell with its bill (mupum slitan), and comes forth 
unfledged (reafe birofene). Soon afterwards its feathers provide 
it with a new covering. Besides this, ‘Die Mittelzahl des Ktch- 
leins, die das Haushuhn auf ein Mal ausbrutet, ist zehn.’ ‘Traut- 
mann’s justification of his own suggestion is most ingeniously 
complete, but still the knowledge that there was a popular riddle 
current in which the fingers ‘ranged over the land,’ while the 
glove or skin ‘hung on the wall’ seems to give strong proba- 
bility to the fact that any other containing these elements in 
combination must be intended either as a copy of a re-worked 
version of the same fundamental problem. Hence, both Dietrich’s 
‘twenty-two letters,’ with its slender relations to Aldhelm’s * de 
elementis,’ Trautmann’s ‘chickens,’ and Wright’s ‘ butterfly ’ 
are less probable solutions, however ingeniously supported, than 
the ‘ pen, hands and gloves ’ suggested by Tupper. 

Undoubtedly, in a general sense, the debt which the Anglo- 
Saxon riddles owes to the Latin collections is great. ‘The position 
may be stated as follows :— 


1. The collection of Anglo-Saxon riddles was made under the 
stimulus of one of the prevailing hobbies of monastic 
leisure, and in imitation of the various Latin collections. 

2. The occasional references to books and writers, noted by 
Dietrich, are of too general and casual a nature to 
prove any definite direct debt, and they need not be 
interpreted as referring to any immediate and particular 
SOULCES. : 

3. In the case of the 41st riddle it is beyond doubt that the 
writer went directly to Aldhelm’s ‘de creatura.’ This 
is the only instance of a total and complete parallelism 
between a Latin and an Anglo-Saxon riddle that the 
whole collection affords. 

4. In many of the riddles there are phrases and ideals for 
which parallels can be found in the Latin enigmas on 
the same or allied themes, but the pian exists In 
very varying degrees. 

(a) In some few cases (e.g. 36, 48, 61,) the riddle seems 
to be in such intimate relation with a Latin 
riddle as to suggest that one is derived from the 
other. 


t Buford. A. xi: 


THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 39 


(0) In other cases (e.g. 9, 35, 54, 10, 17, 33), the Anglo- 
Saxon riddle has only one or two motives in 
common with those found in Latin riddles. The 
resemblance is slight, and often such as can 
scarcely be avoided when the same theme 
happens to be chosen by different writers. 

5. In over twenty cases there are Anglo-Saxon riddles which 

are entirely lacking in any similarity to the Latin riddles 

either in theme, manner, or motive (e.g. 8, 22, 23, 32, 

46, 47, 56, 69, 95). 

The great objection to Prehn’s theory lies in the ever-present 
necessity of supposing a conscious and fastidious choice and 
rejection, an extensive adjustment and curtailment, the frequent 
transference of motive from one subject to another. The varia- 
tion of Anglo-Saxon and Latin riddles is much more naturally 
and therefore convincingly accounted for by supposing that in 
most instances they are developments of the same common 
kernels taken from folk-material or the usual lore of the time. 

What Gummere ! has asked concerning the ballad might also 
be asked of the riddle: ‘Is there no real dualism in generative 
poetics—a dualism of chorus and solo, of throng and poet, of 
community and artist?’ If there be such a dualism—if it be 
allowed that both Saxon and Latin riddles are often independent 
‘solos’ on themes suggested by the common ‘chorus’ of folk- 
riddle or by a widespread and common fund of learned material, 
it is then easily understood why it is that only at certain points 
the Latin and Anglo-Saxon riddles correspond; why the Latin 
sources appear to be handled with great independence, for 
independent treatments of the same material will inevitably 
result in divergent versions in which only a few traits are to be 
found in common in quite alien settings, and even then perhaps 
in altered form. 


(The question is further considered as far as it affects indi- 
vidual riddles in the comments upon the individual riddles.) 


VI 


RIDDLES 2, 3, AND 4 


CONSIDERED as pieces of natural description these three riddles 
are the most remarkable in the whole collection. All the longer 


1 Harvard Studies, v., ‘The Ballad and Communal Poetry,’ p. 41. 


40 THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 


Anglo-Saxon poems frequently, though quite incidentally, show 
that the turbulence of the storm and of the sea deeply affected 
the Anglo-Saxon imagination, but nowhere else are found passages 
of such length inspired by and devoted so exclusively to nature 
in tumult. All three poems exhibit unusual zest and vividness 
of phrase, and riddle 4 seems to stand quite unique in a literature 
not elsewhere greatly characterised by such qualities, by reason 
of its proportioned structure, the ordered progress of its imagery, 
and the satisfying sense of rounded finality produced by the 
revisionary character of lines 67-73. Herzfeld * has rightly termed 
this trio ‘den Abschluss und eigentlichen Hohepunkt der Ratsel- 
dichtung,’ the 4th riddle especially meriting his notice because 
of ‘das Ubersichtliche der Komposition, die Kraft und Anschau- 
lichkeit der Darstellung und den Reichtum an Bildern.’ Cony- 
beare,? who was the first critic to give special notice to this riddle, 
said: ‘ One of the longest of these (aenigmata) appears to relate 
to the “sun.”’ In 1858 Grein * gave as the solution of the 3rd 
riddle ‘anchor,’ and of the 4th, ‘hurricane.’ In the following 
year, howeVer, Dietrich * perceived the unity of conception under- 
lying the three poems, and concluded: ‘Es zieht sich im Grunde 
nur ein einziges Ratsel durch No. 2, 3, 4hin,’ and he suggested ‘ the 
storm ’ in its various aspects as its solution. Wulker has printed 
the three as separate poems, though Trautmann ° in his numbering 
of the riddles groups them together to form the 2nd riddle. 
The occurrence of three ‘Schluss-formeln ’ seems to give all the 
justification there is for considering this storm description to be 
composed of three separate poems. On the other hand, there are 
very definite considerations which point to a more intimate unity 
of the three portions than that given by mere similarity of subject. 


1. There is an identity of root conception underlying all three 
poems. The storm-fiend bears a burden on his back— 
sometimes of earth (II.), sometimes of sea (III.), at — 
other times of cloud (IV.). 

2. The hwilum of III. 1, IV. 1, 36, 17 seems to be repeated to sus- 
tain the continuity of the description commenced in II. 
The MS. shows no division ® between III. and IV., and it 
is noteworthy that hwilum of LV. 1 has no initial capital. 

* Rdtsel des Hxeterbuches und thr Verfasser. Berlin, 1891. 

* Conybeare, Illustrations of Anglo-Saxon Poetry, 1826. 


3 Bibliothek der ags. Poeste. 2 Zi f. Ai Av, SA ee. 
® Anglia, Beiblatt v. 6 Wilker’s Bibliothek, Band ill. p. 185, note. 


THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 41 


3. In spite of its imaginative qualities, the poem seems to 
have a didactic intention. It is possible that the riddle 
poet is exploiting the poetic appeal of storm to the 
heathen imagination to point the moral and adorn the 
tale of God’s omnipotence. The purpose of the poem 
appears to be to suggest the greatness of that power 
which can command the storm giant, by portraying 
the mighty revels of the giant himself whom the hearers 
in their heathendom had battled with and bowed 
before. 


All the poems agree in demanding the name of him who can 
thus check or order forth a nature so stormy :— 
(1) Saga hwa mec pecce (II.). 
(2) Hwa mec on sid wrece (II. 2). 
(3) . . . Saga, poncol mon, 
Hwa mec bregde of brimes feSmum (II1.). 
(4) Hwa gestilled pet (IV.). 
(5) Saga ... hwa mec rere, ponne ic restan ne mot 
Odde hwa mec stedde ponne ic stille beom (IV.). 


If such be the theme, the three ‘Schluss-formeln’ may well 
be considered as repetitions, marking the close of distinct sections 
of a single poem, and used, more rhetorically than interrogatively, 
to bring back the mind of the reader from its excursions into the 

rough realm of elemental strife, and to focus attention upon him 
who is mightier than the storm, and who rules over it as a master 
overaslave. Even, however, if we put aside any didactic purpose, 
the *Schluss-formeln’ may still be considered more as recurrent 
exclamatory expressions which break the progress of the narra- 
tive to express the naive wonder and awed reverence with which 
the early English beheld the dread workings of nature than as 
formal challenges to exercise of wit. 

The precise relation of this riddle group to the Latin riddles 
is difficult to determine. Prehn + suggested as the poet’s sources 
Aldhelm’s ‘de vento,’ together with the aenigmata of Eusebius, 
‘De terra et mari’ and ‘De Adquore.’ In Aldhelm’s first line :-— 


Cernere me nulli possunt nec prendere palmis, 


Prehn sees the kernel of the fourth riddle, and marvels that out 
of so little should come forth so much. The remaining three 
lines :— 

= Komposition und Quellen, p. 159. 


42 THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 


Argutum vocis crepitum cito pando per orbem, 
Viribus horrisonis valeo confringere quercus, 
Nam superos ego pulso polos et rura peragro, 


he takes as the source of riddle 2, while in Eusebius 21, ‘ De terra 
et mari,’ eked out with one line from 23, ‘De Auquore,’ he finds the 
germ of riddle 3. 

Later research has, however, revealed other passages much 
more nearly related to the thought of the 8rd and 4th riddles 
than those cited by Prehn. Riddle 3 is strangely reminiscent in 
its detail and motif of Pliny (Natural History, xxxi. 1)—a passage, 
moreover, whose suitability as riddle material has certainly been 
utilised by one of Reusner’s riddlers.1 The passage? is intro- 
ductory to the discussion of ‘ water,’ and translated runs thus :— 


Amid waves and billows, and tides of rivers for ever on the ebb and 
flow she (i.e. Nature) still unceasingly exerts her powers ; and nowhere, 
if we must confess the truth, does she display herself in greater might, 
for it is this among the elements that holds sway over all the rest. 
It is water that swallows up dry land, that extinguishes flame, that 
ascends aloft, and challenges possession of the very heaven; it is 
water that, spreading clouds as it does, far and wide, intercepts the 
vital air we breathe ; and through their collision gives rise to thunder 
and lightnings as the elements of the universe meet in conflict. What 
can be more marvellous than waters suspended aloft in the heavens ? 
And yet, as though it were not enough to reach so high an elevation 
as this, they sweep along with them whole shoals of fishes, and often 
stones as well, thus lading themselves with ponderous masses which 
belong to other elements, and bearing them on high.’ 


Again, in the Flores * of Bede we have an enigma which might 
represent quite as well as Aldhelm’s first line the germ thought 
of riddle 4 :— 


Dic mihi quae est illa res quae caelum totamque terram replevit— 
silvas et surculos confringit omniaque fundamenta concutit sed nec 
oculis videri aut manibus tangi potest. (Solution.—Ventus.) 


Another analogue is to be found in the ‘wind’ riddle of 
Vienna MS. 67 :—* 


Cernere (nec) quisquam vinclis (potest) neque tenere. 


Perhaps, however, one of the closest and most interesting 


* Mentioned by Tupper, Mod. Lang. Notes, xviii. 4. 

* Quoted from Bostock and Riley’s translation, v. p. 471. 
* Migne, Patrologia Latina, xc. 539 ff. 

* Quoted by Tupper, Mod. Lang. Notes, xviii. 4. 


THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 43 


parallels is that pointed out by Erlemann.t The portion of 
Bede’s ‘ De natura rerum’ dealing with earthquakes on land and 
in the sea contains many of the most forceful ideas which these 
riddles display; one phrase in particular Erlemann marks out 
as containing the Anglo-Saxon riddles 2, 3, and 4 ‘in nuce.’ It 
therefore seems possible that the riddles are intended to describe 
the great unrest of nature which accompanies earthquake and 
tidal wave. 


1. The line swa ne wenad men suggests ‘das plotzliche uner- 
wartete Auftreten der Naturerscheinung malen.’ 

2. The giant is ever represented as being ‘ under the land,’ or 
‘under the ocean,’ though sometimes disturbing the 
upper air. 

3. The description of thunder and lightning and how they are 
generated (riddle 4) is very like Bede’s account of the 
thunder and lightning which accompanies ‘earth dis- 
turbances: ‘Tonitrua dicunt ex fragore nubium 
generarl, fulmina nubium attritu nasci in modum 
silicum collisorum.’ 


Despite the close resemblance of thought between Bede and 
the riddles, no very direct rendering of Bede’s Latin can be 
pointed out, and Erlemann offers an interesting suggestion : 
‘ Bedas naturwissenschaftliche Schriften aber lagen damals dem 
Unterricht in den Realien in fast allen Klosterschulen Englands 
zugrunde, als Lehrer hatte Beda sie ja auch verfasst. Hier in 
der Schule mag dann auch bei einer rekapitulierenden Frage, 
was alles der Sturm bewirke jene Zusammenfassung, wie sie der 
Dichter am Schlusse seines Riatsels selbst gibt, vorgekommen 
sein. Sie mag sich in dieser Form leicht in seinem Gedichtnis 
bewahrt und den Anstoss zu dem Ratsel gegeben haben.’ 


RIDDLE 5 


Ow1ne to the very obscure lines with which this riddle concludes 
it presents certain difficulties of interpretation. Dietrich ? 
_ thought the answer to be ‘ millstones "—the ‘ ic ’ referring to one 
stone, and the ‘servant’ to the other, perhaps the lower one. 
On the other hand, Prehn ® prefers to interpret the ‘servant ’ 


i “Zu altenglischen Ratseln ’ (Archiv f. d. Studium d. neueren Sprachen), cxi. 
p- 49. 
“ie fi. d. A., Xi. 3 Prehn, Komposition und Quellen, p. 163. 


44 THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 


not as a ‘millstone,’ but as ‘ein Knecht .. . welcher die Hand- 
miihle treibt.’ In accordance with this Prehn interprets 


. ic him gromheortum 
winterceald oncwede ... 


as meaning that the one who turns the mill ‘dem eiskalten Steine 
ein warmes Glied gegeniibergestellt.’ Does it not, however, refer 
to the starting of the mill by the grinder? The grating of the 
stone upon the uncrushed corn, just as it starts turning, might 
be conceived as a ‘ wintercold answer’ returned in surly mood 
to one who has rudely broken its rest (it is “sleepweary ’) and 
called it to its labours. 

Itseems scarcely likely that the poet has extracted the single idea 
‘pragbysig ’ from Aldhelm’s ‘dispar fortuna’ and ‘Symposius’s ’ 
‘Hic manet immotus, non desinit ille moveri’; still less does it 
seem probable that the ‘min bed brecan ’ is derived from a line 
in Symposius’s ‘meal’ riddle, ‘ Inter saxa fui quae me contrita 
premebant,’ and Aldhelm’s phrase, ‘ex nostro labore.’ With 
respect to this latter phrase, Prehn himself confesses that it stands 
to the Anglo-Saxon only ‘in einer sehr entfernten Ahnlichkeit.’ 
In so far as three different sources are claimed, and that in each 
case the similarity to the Anglo-Saxon phrases is only small, the 
claim that these form the origin of the Anglo-Saxon riddle is 
hardly warranted; it seems much more reasonable to sup- 
pose that both Latin writers and the Anglo-Saxon poet were 
elaborating ideas suggested by folk-riddle material. 

In support of this we have the fact that in the sixteenth 
century there certainly was in England a folk-riddle! on ‘the 
millstones,’ which contains one element in common with the 
Anglo-Saxon riddle, but not contained in either of the Latin 
enigmas :— 


Downe in a meaddowe I have two swine ; 
The more meat I give them the louder they cry ; 
The less meat I give them the stiller they lie. 


The second line seems to contain the idea expressed by the Anglo- 
Saxon :— 
... breahtme cyéan 
pet me halswrisan hlaford sealde. 


* Booke of Merry Riddles (1629), reprinted by Halliwell in his Literature of 
Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries. 


THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 45 


RIDDLE 6 


Two solutions have been offered, one by L. C. Muller, ‘ scutum,’ 
and the other by Trautmann,? ‘ chopping-block.’ Because the 


former is more dignified as a theme, and more poetically suggestive » 


than the latter, it seems more in keeping with the serious temper 
and sober earnestness of Anglo-Saxon poetry that ‘ shield ’ rather 
than * chopping-block ’ should be the solution. Apart from this 
consideration, there seems nothing in the riddle itself to give one 
solution any advantage over the other. 

The riddle is no idle fancy—it is full of human feeling and a 
sense of sad submission to a dreary fate. The poet makes the 
shield speak like a hacked and ragged veteran who must still 
fight on, even though sad wyrd oppresses it, and even though it 
knows full well it must continue to suffer without hope of respite. 

Prehn connects this riddle with Aldhelm’s ‘Clypeus.’ In so 
far as the cruel wounds which the shield bears are mentioned in 
both riddles there is certainly some similarity, but whether 
Aldhelm’s enigma can be cited as in any sense the ‘source’ of 
the Saxon riddle is doubtful. The shield of Aldhelm’s riddle is 
a soldier proud of his scars :— 


Quis tantos casus aut quis tam plurima leti 
Suscipit in bello crudelis vulnera miles ; 


but the shield in the Anglo-Saxon riddle is battle-weary :— 
| beadoweorca sed—ecgum werig. 
Again, had Aldhelm’s riddle been the Anglo-Saxon poet’s source, 
the hne— 
Semper ego proprio gestantis corpore corpus 


Conservabo, 


so suggestive of the bond of fidelity binding servant to lord—a 
fidelity which the Anglo-Saxon riddle writers loved to portray— 
would scarcely have been left unrepresented. 


RIDDLE 7 


A SHORT poem, quite independent of the Latin riddles, and treating 
its subject (the sun) as both the friend and enemy of mankind. 
Sometimes it shines gently and gladdens the hearts of men—at 
other times it burns fiercely and prostrates men to earth. 


1 Muller, Collectanea Anglo-Saxonica (1835). 2 Anglia, Beiblatt y. 


Sea = = 


—_ 


46 THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 


The mingling of old and new, of heathen and Christian, is 
well illustrated by lines 1 and 2, in which the sun is conceived 
as being a warrior in the service of Christ. 


RIDDLE 8 


A Porm of delicate fancy quite distinct in tone from the other 
riddles, in which there is so often heard the stronger and sterner 
note of the heroic lays. The subject is evidently some large bird 
whose wings make a perceptible noise as they beat the air— 
Dietrich suggested ‘swan.’ Such poems as this well illustrate 
that increased sensibility to the poetry latent in ordinary sights 
and sounds which was the joint result of the influence of letters 
and of contact with the Celtic mind upon the Anglo-Saxons 
in Northumbria. 

To dwell with such evident pleasure upon the tuneful garments 
and the musical whir of the feathers, to liken a bird to a ‘spirit,’ 
faring over flood and field and above the dwellings of men are 
more in keeping with nineteenth-century poetry than with the 
poetry of our nation’s infancy. 


RIDDLE 9 


OF the two answers which have been proposed for this riddle 
(nightingale! and ringdove 2), the former seems the more probable, 
in so far as the nightingale’s song is more likely to captivate the 
burg dwellers than that of the more familiar dove. 

In its opening lines the poem bears considerable likeness to 
Aldhelm’s ‘de luscinia,’ which praises, no less than the Anglo- 
Saxon riddle, the “winding bouts of linked sweetness’ so char- 
acteristic of the bird’s song ; the Anglo-Saxon riddle, unlike that 
of Aldhelm, makes no reference to the bird’s exile during foggy 
winter. 

Trautmann’s ‘ bell,’ ? if accepted, banishes much of the poetry 
from the poem, and destroys entirely the beauty of what Prehn 
has felicitously called ‘die kleine Frihlingsscene,’ which the 
picturesque imagery of the poem suggests. 


RIDDLE 10 


‘Cuckoo ’* is the solution of this riddle. The pathos arising out 
of the cuckoo’s loveless parentage, the self-sacrifice of the foster- 


L Gafed: Acs xi, 2 Tbid., xii. * Anglia, Beiblatt v. 4 [bid., xi. 


THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 47 


mother in her devotion to the foundling until it grows strong 
enough to fly away, are the main notes of the poem. 

In a riddle of Symposius we find a reference to ‘ another 
mother ’ hatching the eggs deserted by the cuckoos and rearing 
the young birds. Though the present riddle is undoubtedly an 
expansion of this same idea, it is doubtful whether it was sug- 
gested to the Anglo-Saxon riddle writer by Symposius’s Latin riddle, 
or whether both are not independent treatments of the same 
well-known fact. 


RIDDLE 11 


Tuts provides an excellent example of how popular tradition and 
the common beliefs of the time can provide material for the making 
of riddles ; it also illustrates how a riddle can be erroneously 
accounted for by reference to a casual phrase or idea culled from 
one or more of the various contemporary Latin riddles. For a 
long time it was supposed that the bubbles left in the wake of a ship 
formed the theme of this riddle, and it was thought to owe its 
origin to material suggested by Aldhelm’s ‘De famfaluca.’ It is, 
however, almost certainly based upon the old idea of the origin 
of the ‘ Barnacle goose.’ This was first suggested by Mr. Stop- 
ford Brooke,! and supported by a quotation from Gerard’s 
‘Herball.’ Giraldus Cambrensis has, as Tupper has pointed out, 
a passage in which the whole of the riddle material seems per- 
fectly explained. ‘Barnacle geese,’ says Giraldus,? ‘are produced 
from fir-timber tossed along the sea, and are at first like gum. 
Afterwards they hang down by their beaks as if from a seaweed 
attached to the timber, surrounded by shells in order to grow 
more freely. Having thus in process of time been clothed with 
a strong coat of feathers they either fall into the water, or fly 
freely away into the air.’ 

The ‘neb in the narrow place ’ is thus the bill stuck into the 
log; the ‘tree in dark raiment’ and ‘the wandering wood ’ 
both refer to the floating fir-wood ; the geese literally do come 
‘ out of the embrace of the sea and of the wood’; they are clothed 
in a dun raiment of feathers, then the wind bears them aloft, 
and they fly over the ‘seal-bath’; the ‘certain white adorn- 


1 History of Early English Interature, p. 179. 
2 Quoted by Tupper from Topographia Hiberniae, 1. xv. (Rolls Series, 1867), 
v. 47, 


48 THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 


ments’ might refer to feathers of lighter colour than the rest, 
or to the bill and legs of the bird. 

Trautmann, by unwarrantably altering on sunde awoz (line 3) 
into on sande grof has ingeniously interpreted the riddle to refer 
to an anchor with its mainshaft painted white. 


RIDDLE 12 


As the solutions of this riddle ‘ night,’ 1 ‘ wine,’ ? and ‘ gold,’ ® 
have been proposed—its most remarkable characteristic is the 
strong note of moral warning it contains. 

The language is more than usually obscure, e.g. the heah of 
line 9 has been variously dealt with. Trautmann, because of its 
difficulty has suggested hearm+* as the word really intended ; 
Dietrich translated it literally ; while Walz thinks it should be 
understood as ‘the High one,’ 7.e. God. 

The reputed connection of the riddle with Aldhelm’s ‘de 
nocte’ is not supported by anything further than that there is 
in both a mention of bright adornments and dun colour. Night 
certainly is dun-coloured, and its sky is spangled with the bright 
adornments of the stars; it may be considered as a seductive 
mistress tempting weak ones into evil if they venture forth ; 
line 9 might refer to the coming of the sun (horda deorast). Though, 
however, evil and darkness often are found together the homiletic 
outburst of lines 5-10 seems too strongly conceived to apply to 
one who plays such a passive part in the working of evil as the 
darkness. 

The chief objection to the solution ‘ gold ’ lies in the extremely 

~ awkward way in which it satisfies the first two lines. 

‘Wine ’ seems by far the best answer. The garment or dress 
of the wine is the beaker it is contained in, and wine often leads 
men into foolishness which calls forth from friends moralising 
words. Unless we accept hearm,* heah is certainly a difficulty, 
and, taken literally, seems with this solution to have no meaning ; 
the profitable or useful journeying (nyttre fore) of line 5 is also 
obscure—Trautmann suggests “der Gang zum Abendmahl.’ The 
resemblance of this riddle to the 28th (mead) both in phrase and 
sentiment gives a probability to the idea that it is upon a 
kindred subject and thus supports ‘ wine.’ 


| 
| 


BZ Mek. Aig Ril 2 Trautmann, Bonner Bettrdge zur Anglistik, xix. 
3 Walz, Harvard Studies, v. 
4 ‘Trautmann’s emendation—Bonner Bettrdge, xix. 


THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 49 


RIDDLE 13 


THE subject of this riddle is treated in a way which is reminiscent 
of the horn riddle (15) and of the tree riddle (31). 

As in those riddles, all the various forms which the subject 
may assume are given so that we have the hide of the ox speaking 
as :— 


(a) the skin of a living animal (lines 1 and 2) ; 

(6) the thong which binds a captive (lines 3 and 4) ; 

(c) a leather jack or other drinking vessel (lines 5 and 6) ; 
(d) a shoe or rug (lines 6) and 7a). 


Lines 7b to 13 are exceedingly obscure—they seem to refer to 
some kind of treatment or preparation which the skin receives. 
It is spoken of as being ‘ pressed ’ and ‘shaken’ by a man, and 
afterwards handed on to a woman, who completes the process by 
‘wetting’ and ‘warming.’ If this be the explanation, lines 
110-13, which Prehn understands to refer to ‘ glove,’ are really 
descriptive of a part of this preparation—the skin is spoken of 
as being turned about and manipulated with the hand. Lines 
7b-11 Prehn curiously explains as describing a practical joke 
played by a high-spirited woman. A man’s coat or hat is stolen, 
wetted, and then, in order to appease the victim, afterwards 
dried and warmed by the fire! Surely, however, this adventure 
is scarcely so characteristic of the fate of a leather jerkin as to 
make a mention of it intelligible in a riddle ! 

The mention of the “Swart Welshman’ is noteworthy—the 
subordinate standing of the Celt in the Saxon community is well 
illustrated by the comparison implied in the last lines :-— 


Gif me feorh losa6, feeste binde 
Swearte wealas, hwilum sellan men. 


RIDDLE 16 


In Anglo-Saxon poetry kindred and children are often mentioned 
with a tender note of love and devotion. In the riddles it is 
heard in the ‘horn’ poems (88 and 93) as a brother’s sorrow ; 
in 10 (‘cuckoo’) as a motherly devotion even to the deserted 
young of others ; and here as an animal’s passionate attachment 
to its young in time of threatened danger; when it is molested 
it conducts its young to a place of safety, and then returns like 
a doughty warrior to face the foe fearlessly. 
D 


50 THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 


Precisely what animal is referred to seems doubtful; Dietrich 
suggested ‘ badger,’ but this has been questioned by Trautmann 
and also by Walz. Walz objects on the ground that the animal 
has not a whitish neck, nor is it swift-footed ; he suggests * porcu- 
pine’1 as more likely, and claims that this animal has a white stripe 
on the neck, and that it literally does use war-darts (arrows) in 
strife ; the hildepilum (line 28) he takes to be the spines from its — 
tail, which it uses in defending itself against its enemies—the 
spines become detached, and stick into whatever is attacked. 

This is an ingenious theory, but based upon facts which are 
doubtful. Both porcupine and badger are clumsy and ungainly— 
neither is specially noted for its speed (see lines 1, 2). The badger 
is characterised by black and white stripes on head and neck, 
and by sharp claws which it uses for digging. Again, the exceed- 
ingly long quills of the porcupine render it unlikely that it can 
live in the tunnelled passages which the riddle seems to imply. 
On the whole, then, therefore ‘badger’ is the most suitable 
solution. 

How Prehn?2 can state that ‘das vorliegende Ratselpaar ’ 
(Anglo-Saxon riddle and Symposius *talpa’) ‘weist eine nahe 
Verwandtschaft auf,’ is difficult to understand ; a blind under- 
ground existence is all that is ascribed to the * mole ’ by Symposius 
—there is no suggestion whatever of the love of its own kind 
or a brave battle to protect its young. These are, however, the 
sole elements of the Anglo-Saxon poem. 


RIDDLE 17 


AN imaginative little poem about the anchor 3—the first line cer- 

tainly bears a strong resemblance to the first line of Symposius’s 

‘ancora ’ :— : 
Cum vento luctor, cum gurgite pugno profundo. 


The riddle is concerned with describing the constant pull of — 
wind and wave in their endeavour to drag the anchor from its 
hold. There are both vigorous and vivid touches ; the anchor 
holds itself to the stones with its iron ‘ tail,’ and its devastating 
track when it is conquered is well portrayed in :— 


gif me pes toseled, hi beod swidran ponne ic 
J mec slitende, sona flymas. 


1 Harvard Studies, v. * Komposition und Quellen, p. 180, 
8 Dietrich in Z. f. d. A., xi. 


THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 51 


The riddles in the Hervara Saga‘ also contain one on the 
‘anchor,’ which, as in the Anglo-Saxon riddle, is described as 
a striver and a warrior. 


RIDDLE 18 


THREE solutions have been suggested : ‘catapult,’ “fortified en- 
closure,’ ? ‘baking oven.’* The latter certainly can be ingeniously 
supported. The ‘frea’ of line 5 is the baker; the treasure the 
loaves ; the *spear-terrors ’ which are shot forth are the spear- 
shaped flames which emerge from the fire ; the dark things which 
are swallowed are logs used as fuel. It is difficult, however, to 
understand why, if fuel be meant, it should be particularly 
referred to as ‘ battle weapons—bitter points—destructive spears.’ 
The riddle bears a great resemblance to that on the bow, 

and very probably its subject is that greater and more powerful 
bow—the catapult. Out of the belly of each fly battle darts ; 
the cords which bind up the bow (24) correspond with the ‘ wires ’ 
which this riddle mentions. The missiles which the catapult 
shot were of the greatest variety, and included stones and 
rocks, spears, bolts, and beams of all sorts; it may thus well be 
described as ‘ swallowing ’ these things only to vomit them forth 
again. 

Hwilum ic sweartum swelgan onginne 

brunum beadowepnum, bitrum ordum, 

eglum attorsperum. 


This solution is also supported by the fact that over the riddle 
in the MS. are two runes, L and B, which may, as Tupper suggests, 
refer to lupre (the Anglo-Saxon equivalent of the Latin Ballista) 
and Ballista itself. 


RIDDLE 19 


THE solution ‘slauch’ suggested by Dietrich seems much more 
specific than the terms of the riddle warrant. Any vessel for 
holding liquid (cask, jug, bottle) would satisfy equally well, 
though perhaps the phrase mines cnosles ma would exclude the 
probability of the ‘ water cask ’ as a possible solution, which, on 
small ships, is usually bedecked and given a place of honour even 
to-day. 

1 A. Heusler, ‘Die altnordischen Riatsel,’ in Zeztschrift des Vereins fir Volks- 


kunde, xi. ae 
COZ fia OeeLl., 3 Ibid., xii, 4 Anglia, Beiblatt v. 


52 THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 


RIDDLE 69 


TRAUTMANN ! considers the first two lines and the third to be 
merely the beginnings of riddles. The supposition seems quite 
unnecessary, for Grein’s ‘winter,’? and Maccallum’s ‘Jack Frost’? 
both satisfy the riddle as it is recorded. The being who goes 
forth, wondrously bedecked, making water hard, is quite reason- 
ably ‘ winter ’ with its hoar-frost and its ice. 3 

The use of ban (bone) to connote hardness and smoothness 
seems to suggest that this element of the puzzle is derived from 
very primitive times. This, along with its brevity and the 
simplicity of its terms, marks it as a riddle essentially of popular 
origin. Thorpe curiously marred the whole point of the puzzle 
by his translation of ‘to bane’ as “to poison.’ 


THe RuNE RIDDLES 20, 65, 75, 43 


Tue rune riddles are interesting because they seem to point to 
an oral use of the riddles. The unadorned simplicity of their 
form, and the fact that only when orally proposed would these 
riddles provide any puzzle at all, seem to mark them as of folk- 
origin (as 65, and 75), or as being suggested by such folk-riddles. 
In early times not only were the runes letters, but also charms 
and secret symbols, and in the riddles they seem intended to 
bear some suggestion of their earlier magical power. Here in 
the riddles they guard mysteries, and, if they are rightly inter- 
preted and placed together, they can loose the bands of the riddle 
and reveal its secret—even as in ancient times they sometimes 
- unfettered captives and set them free. 

Undoubtedly these runic symbols were intended to bear a 
word value, and the puzzle really consisted in detecting, during 
the recital of the riddle, those words to which a rune value could 
be assigned, and then in forming out of the runic symbols the word 
suggested by the context. 

Similar puzzles are to be met with long after runes had passed 
out of popular knowledge and memory. In the Booke of Merry 
hiddles, the following is found :— 


Eand Vi -3@-and 1c & 
So hight my lady at the font-stone. 


1 Anglia, Beiblatt v. 2 Bibliothek (1858). 
% Studies in Low and High German Literature, by M. W. Maccallum. 


THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 53 


The answer (‘ Lucy ’) is obvious to the eye of the reader, but to 
a hearer the riddle would be presented thus :— 


Fifty and five; a hundred and one ; 
So hight my lady at the font-stone. 


Just as the numbers in the above riddle have a letter symbol, 
so in the Anglo-Saxon riddles certain words had rune symbols 
which yielded the solutions. 


RIDDLE 20 


BELONGS to a type of popular riddle which has been termed 
the ‘monster’ riddle. Instead of referring to one object or being 
as its theme, it refers to several, which are often found in close 
contact and relationship to one another. In the riddle before us 
the runes as interpreted by Grein! give, when their order is 
reversed, Hors, Mon, Wega, Haofoc. Ettmiiller read the last 
word of line 5 as rad, and connected it with the next runic word, 
which he transliterated as NGHW. The compound would thus 
give rad-wegn(=* road wagon’), which it is somewhat difficult 
to reconcile with the context. 

Grein ! suggested that the fifth line should be emended thus :— 


NOM negledne RAG. 


There seems, however, no justification for this except that the 
‘gar’ is not unsuitable for combination with ‘ warrior,’ and horse 
and hawk. Trautmann! and Hicketier! both agree in trans- 
literating the third runic word as WOH. Whichever way this be 
taken there is little difficulty in deciphering the general character 
of the ‘monster.’ The ‘ic’ of the Schluss-formel refers to the very 
composite being—* Man on horseback accompanied by servant, 
hawk, and perhaps spear.’ 

It is interesting to note that a similar theme, ° a man on horse- 
back with hawk on his fist,’ forms the theme of at least two 
popular riddles 2 of the sixteenth century. Both are * monster ’ 
riddles, and the problem is to discover what strange being fulfils 
the condition given. 


1 Notes on riddle 20 in Grein’s Bibliothek. der ags. Poesie. 
2 The twenty-eighth riddle of Randle Holme MS.; the seventieth riddle of 
The Booke of Merry Riddles. 


54 THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 


RIDDLE 21 


Tae best solution is ‘sword,’+ though Trautmann has suggested 
‘hawk.’2 The former is supported by the fact that 


1. ‘Sword’ was a favourite riddle theme. Aldhelm wrote 
‘De pugione vel spatica,’ HKusebius * De gladio,’ and 
Tatwine ‘ De ense et vagina.’ 

2. Nothing in the riddle is unsuitable to ‘ sword,’ the solution 
fits at all points. 

3. The riddle repeats the same conception as that of Husebius, 
viz., the sword as the servant of a master. 


The ‘sword’ of the Anglo-Saxon riddle is one of those of old 
time, which heroes valued, invested with personality and name. 
At the mead-drinking it is often brought out before heroes, and 
its master 

ne wyrneo word lofes, wisan mena6 

mine for mengo, peer hy meodu drinca® (lines 11 and 12). 


It does bold fierce deeds to satisfy its lord—its duty is destruction ; 
yet an inherent humanity prompts a passing regret for its solitude ; 
it is hated among weapons, and no one will care to avenge its 
death, nor can it ever have children :— | 


nymée ic hlafordleas hweorfan mote 
from pam healdende, pe me hringas geaf (lines 21 and 22). 


But this desertion must not be; to be faithful to its lord is its 
imperative duty :— 


. - » fordon ic brucan sceal : 
on hagostealde, helepa gestreona (lines 30 and 31). 


Stopford Brooke’s idea that the last half line is in direct 


speech—an angered woman’s actual words—gives an exceedingly | 


dramatic close to the riddle. The woman, whose dear ones the 
sword has slaughtered, fiercely upbraids him with revilings and 
blasphemy :— 


‘floced hyre folmum, firenad mec wordum 
ungod geeled ; ic ne gyme pes compes. . . 


The likeness to the Latin riddles is but slight, the most noticeable 
point of similarity being that noted in (3) above. Both Aldhelm 


1 Dietrich in Z. f. d. A., xi. 2 Anglia, Beiblatt v. 


On en eee eee Oe | ee 


THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 55 


and 'Tatwine give most attention to the description of the sword 
(and sheath) and of its manufacture. The sword does deadly 
work, not, however, to glut a greed for slaughter, as in the Anglo- 
Saxon riddle, but in order to protect its owner. 


RIDDLE 22 


Onez of the riddles for which no Latin parallel or origin has yet 
been suggested. - The credit for its solution belongs to Thorpe : ! 
‘ By this no doubt a plough is intended.’ Prehn sees in the poem 
‘ein Gegenstiick zu der Seefurche.’ 

Its pleasant images of the ploughman—* Woh feered weard 
eet steorte ’—of the newly turned earth. 


me bid gongendre grene on healfe 
j} min swe sweotol sweart on opre— 


and the metaphor so suggestive of the conquest of rude unculti- 
vated forest by early settlers—‘’ har holtes feond ’—are all of the 
earth, earthy, and give to the poem considerable poetic merit. 
Though much more subdued than in other riddles, the old imagery 
of the earlier lays is not entirely absent. The plough is a warrior 
who carries cunningly shaped weapons ; he is a thegn who duti- 
fully obeys his lord ; his labour is a fierce warfare, for he ‘ tears 
with his teeth.’ 


RIDDLE 23 


DieTRIcH’s solution,? “the sixty half-days of the month,’ has 
never seriously been questioned. He conceived it as referring 
especially to December. The stream is the month, the warriors 
are his sixty half days, the shore to which they are borne is the 
New Year, and the eleven horses, of which four were white, are 
the eleven holy days which occur within December (four Sundays 
and seven saint days). 

Riddles based on the artificial division of time were common : 
one of these,* whose solution is ‘the year,’ represents it rather 
obviously as a tree with twelve branches, fifty nests, seven birds 
of divers names in each nest. Probably this Anglo-Saxon poem 
is an elaboration of some such riddle, though it is scarcely obvious 
why the half-day should be chosen as the unit and certain days 


1 Thorpe, Codex Hxoniensis, p. 527, note on riddle 21. 
Oe Ho Oh Halon > 3 Booke of Merry Riddles. 


56 THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 


reckoned both as warriors and horses. The silent lapse of time, 
on whose stream days, weeks, and months are passively borne 
is well represented :— 


. hine oxa ne teah ne esna megen 
ne feet hengest, ne on flod swom, 
ne be grunde wod gestum under, 
ne lagu drefde, ne on lyfte fleag (lines 13-16). 


Time passes, and carries mysteriously all things with it, and 
without effort on their part. Such a theme would be congenial 
to the Teutonic mind with its sober earnestness and its pagan 
bent towards wistful melancholy. Here it is presented bedecked 
somewhat lavishly with the trappings of Teutonic strife, war 
steeds and warriors, aethling and earl, wagon and rings. 


RIDDLE 24 


THE subject of this riddle is obviously “the bow’; so eagerly and 
so entirely has the poet described the very nature and doings 
of it that he has quite neglected to use that art of cunning 
concealment which all good riddles should exemplify. 

We have, however, a highly imaginative poem. The bow 
breathes out threatenings and slaughter to those against whom 
it will spirt out its arrows, and all the gleeful savagery of Teutonic 
warfare is represented by its fierce words. ‘The arrows are con- 
ceived as bearing a poisoned drink to those whom they touch— 
a drink for which the victim must dearly pay with his life. 
Prehn?! relates the riddle to Tatwine’s ‘de sagitta,’ ‘de 

pharetra,’ and Symposius’s ‘ sagitta.’ Apart from the fact that 

Tatwine’s ‘arrow’ is ‘destined for strife,’ there seems nothing 
to suggest, much less prove, any connection between these and 
the Anglo-Saxon riddle. : 

It is far more likely that it may be a development of some 
such folk-riddle as this : ‘ What is that which, pound can destroy 
and kill, but which, unbound, is harmless ? ’ 


RIDDLE 26 


A RIDDLE not marked by any poetic beauty, though interesting 
as a puzzle. The subject, whatever it be, is eagerly seized by 


1 Komposition und Quellen, p. 188. 


ae 


THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 57 


women, its head is cut off, it is placed in a confined place (on 
festen), and it injures those who injure it, and, as a result, an 
‘eye ’ is “ wet.’ 

The chief difficulties lie in the interpretation of :— 


1. ‘reesad me on reodne ’ (or ‘ rered me on reodne ’). 
2. ‘ On feesten.’ 


Some of the proposed solutions have obviously been inspired by 
the last half line, ‘ weet bid peet eage.’ Mustard,! onion,? leek 2 
seem about equally successful ; their tall stems, their pungency 
when bruised, their use by women in culinary processes—all 
suit various elements of the puzzle. The fxwsten need not neces- 
sarily be ‘mouth’; it may equally well refer to a bag, a 
jar, or a pot. 

If the ‘hemp’ solution * be entertained the interpretation of 
the last line is hardly so forced as is sometimes supposed. The 
riddle will refer to the process of spinning, and the ° wet eye’ 
will refer to the hole at the end of the spindle through which 
the thread passes ; the spinners might ‘suck’ it through, much 
as a Lancashire weaver ‘kisses’ the hole in the shuttle in order 
to draw the weft through. 

Trautmann’s solution,* ‘the fruit of the wild rose,’ is the 
weakest of all the answers which have been suggested, although 
it has the semblance of fulfilling in a strained and unconvincing 
way all the conditions, e.g. :— 


1. It is red. 

2. It is beautiful to behold and therefore beloved of women. 
3. It is useful, since it grows near human habitations, so that 
the burgh dwellers need not go far to obtain it. 

4. It is ‘ rough’ inside. 

5. The ‘feesten ’ is the mouth of her who eats it. 

6. Its sourness causes the mouth to water, and so the ‘eye’ 
(used in sense of the mouth orifice) becomes ‘ wet.’ 

7. Its ‘head is robbed’ when the small leaves at the end of 
the berry are pulled away. 


Of the above (3), (6) and (7) seem especially weak and far- 
fetched ; the truth seems to be that it is merely a verse elabora- 


1 Walz, Harvard Studies, v. 2 Dietrich, Z. f. d. A., xi. 3 Tbid., xil. 
* Anglia, Beiblatt v., and Bonner Bettrdge zur Anglistik, xix. 


58 THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 


tion of a folk-riddle—and of a folk-riddle intended to have a 

coarse answer, and at the same time to admit of such moderately 

suitable and decorous answers as ‘onion’ and ‘hemp.’ The 

Holme riddle, to which the answer ‘radish’ is given, is similar 

in this respect, and emery like the Anglo-Saxon riddle in 
detail. 


RIDDLE 27 


THis was one of the first riddles to be solved: Miuller’s answer,! 
‘liber’ has been generally accepted. The riddle has already 
received notice on pp. 34 and 35, and, as was there shown, has 
points of similarity with, though no necessary relation to, six 
of the Latin riddles. Both this and the Latin riddles were 
engendered in a monastic atmosphere of respect for books and 
writings, and out of a deep sense of their value and a joy in their 
beautiful forms. The riddle shows us a mystery—how things of 
nature can by a strange transformation contribute to the spiritual 
life of man; it describes how the knife’s edge, cunning human 
skill, the “joy of the bird’ (quill), the wood, the hide, the gold, 
and the wirebands have all contributed to the malin Q of a noble 
codex. 

Lines 19-26 are noteworthy as containing distinct evidences 
of conscious rhyme and assonance, e.g. :— 


(a) Swesra J gesibbra, sopra j godra (line 22). 
(6) Estum yead 7 hy arstafum — 
lissum bilecgaé 3 hi lufan fedmum (lines 24-25). 


RIDDLE 28 


Tue first six lines of the poem display a marked sensibility to. 
the poetry of bees and their pleasant industry. The poet is 
speaking of honey which is brought 


of bearwum J of burghleopum 

of denum j of dunum. Deges mec weegun 
fedre on lifte, feredon mid liste 

under hrofes hleo. . . . 


But this pleasing product of bee-labour has in the mead-cup a 
changed nature. After the honey has been ‘ bathed in a butt’ 
it can overcome the strongest, reduce him to foolishness, and 


1 Miller, Collectanea Anglo-Saxonica (1835). 


THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 59 


render him utterly helpless; hence lines 7-16 threaten discom- 
fiture and woe to him who drinks not wisely :— 


gif he unreedes er ne geswiced. 


Aldhelm’s ‘de ape’ and ‘de callice vitreo’ have been mentioned: 


as sources.t Though primarily concerned with the bees themselves 
Aldhelm’s riddle, considering its theme, could scarcely omit a 
mention of the bearing home of honey, and in his ‘de callice 
vitreo ’ Aldhelm certainly does refer to the seductions of the wine- 
cup in a way which recalls the Anglo-Saxon admonitions both in 
this and other riddles (cp. riddle 12, lines 8-10). But there is 
nothing sufficiently distinctive about the ideas or sufficiently 
common about the expression of them to warrant any supposition 
that all three riddles are not quite independent renderings of the 
same rather commonplace themes. 

‘Dietrich’s ‘scourge’ or ‘ whip’ solution * seems at once contra- 
dicted by 


.. . deges mec wegun 
Fepre on lifte.... 


In what sense can * feathers ’ bear the whip, or any portion of it ? 


RIDDLE 29 


Dietricu solved this riddle as describing the wine vat, and 
related it to Aldhelm’s ‘de cuppa vinaria.’ T. Wright,* however, 
as far back as 1842 suggested that in this riddle we have * the 
first traces of that doughty hero, John Barleycorn,’ and this seems 
by far the most satisfactory solution. 

The riddle commences with a hint of the beauty of the bearded 
barley, and tells how, though fair to behold, it is yet one of the 
“grimmest ’ of the possessions of men. The dire treatment by 
which it is reduced to malt is rapidly reviewed in what is, for 
Anglo-Saxon, a remarkable series of unelaborated participles. 
Tt is cut, rubbed, rolled, dried, bound and twisted, bleached and 
softened, but its vitality cannot be vanquished, for even in 
death, through the mouths of those who drink it, it babbles and 
talks in very various ways. 

There are very definite evidences in this poem that the jingle 
of like sounding syllables had considerable attraction for the 


1 Prehn. hy iis Cn Alan oe 
3 Biograpwa Britannica Literaria, p. 79. 


60 THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 


poet, for in lines 4-6 and 8 the alliterative system of verse 
structure gives way before what is evidently consciously 
arranged assonance. 


RIDDLE 30 


One of the most poetic of the riddles, and one of the best puzzles. 
It has called forth at least four different answers: ‘moon and 
sun, 2 ‘cloud and wind,’? ‘bird and wind,’? ‘swallow and 
sparrow.’ # 

Of these ‘moon and sun’ seems the best. This theme is 
frequently treated in riddle literature—Aldhelm wrote ‘de sole 
et luna,’ and Eusebius ‘ de luna,’ but there does not seem to be 
the slightest connection between these and the Anglo-Saxon poem, 
for while the Latin enigmas speak of moon and sun as friendly, 
the Anglo-Saxon riddle is wholly occupied with a description of 
strife and pursuit. 

Dietrich, who suggested the “moon and sun’ solution, inter- 
preted the booty (hup) as the light stolen from the sun by the 
moon during the sun’s eclipse. Stopford Brooke, however, 
makes a modification of this solution, and thinks that the booty 
is the old moon which the new moon seems to hold between her 
horns ; the ‘ wealles hrof’ of line 7 will then refer to the distant 
horizon—the top of the world’s wall—over which the sun, ‘ well 
known to all,’ comes. The idea of the poem will thus be, that 
when the moon’s light fails as day approaches, it is being stolen 
by the sun; at length the moon is banished from the sky, the 
sun travelling westwards in pursuit, until it too disappears—no 
one knows where. Then, when both strife and pursuit are over, 
the evening mists arise, night returns, and dew falls on the earth. 

The only doubtful and strained point in this extremely poetic — 
interpretation is the explanation of ‘ dust’ as ‘ dust-like mist.’ 

Walz’s ‘cloud and wind’ seems to break down at lines 5, 6, 
and 7. Certainly ‘lyftfet leohtlic’ would happily apply to a cloud 
in the sky, and the strife of cloud and wind which raises the dust 
and hastens the coming of rain, might be read into the line :— 


‘dust stone to heofonum, deaw feol on eoréan’ ; 
but the unnatural interpretation of lines 5, 6, and 7 as referring 


DO Lig sft ow Ae PRA; 2 Harvard Studies, v. 
® Bonner Bettrdge, xix. 4 Anglia, Beiblatt v. 


THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 61 


to a cloud ‘wishing to rest on a castle, and the wind appearing 
on the top of the wall to blow it away ’ is strained in the extreme, 
and seems to render the solution untenable. 

Trautmann is sure that one of the two beings mentioned is 
a bird of some kind, but his ‘swallow and sparrow’ solution 
renders lines 12 and 13 quite pointless. With his later suggestion, 
‘bird and wind,’ he certainly ingeniously satisfies many of the 
phrases, e.g. :— 


(a) The booty between horns is a straw carried by a bird 
in its horny bill. 

(6) Fxehpum feran (‘furiously faring on ’) refers to the wind 
raising waves, roaring through the trees, despoiling 
roots, etc. 

(c) ‘ The being coming over the wall ’ is the wind which blows 
away the straw as the bird emerges from the shelter 
of the building. 


This solution leaves pointless the special mention of a west- 
ward direction; and the extremely poetic lines at the end of 
the riddle, which seem intended to describe the composure of 
nature, when the strife of the livelong day is past, are left quite 
irrelevant. 


RIDDLE 31 


DreTRIcH and Prehn suggest ‘rainwater’ as a solution—Prehn 
supposing that the riddle was inspired by Symposius’s ‘ de pluvia,’ 
Kusebius’s “de aqua et igne,’ and Aldhelm’s ‘de nube.’ In 
Symposius the rain cloud says, * De caelo cecidi medias transmissa 
per auras’; and in Aldhelm, ‘Sed madidis mundum faciam 
frondescere guttis’; in Eusebius the strife of fire and water is 
portrayed, the combatants waging battle separated by the ‘ wall ’ 
of the cooking utensil and hoping ° ut multis bene prosint bella 
peracta.’ ‘Ie eom licbysig, lace mid winde’: ‘fyre gebysgad, 
byrnende gled,’ and * bearu blowende,’ are, according to Prehn, 
three Anglo-Saxon phrases suggested by the Latin phrases just 
alluded to. The connection appears somewhat remote; these 
correspondences are not sufficiently close to be convincing or even 
probable—the probability of a direct connection would have 
seemed greater had the three phrases quoted found their analogies 
in three phrases of the same Latin enigma. 


_ ~ SSS 


— 


62 THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 


A much more satisfying solution! is ‘beam’ in the various 
senses that the word carries in Old English, tree, log, ship, and 
cross—probably also harp and bowl.’ It is satisfying because the 
lines are completely and reasonably explained by such a solution, 
and also because solutions of this multiform type apply to and 
‘satisfy other riddles in the collection: e.g. riddle 13 presents its 
_ subject, ‘ leather,’ in manifold forms—the skin of the ox, drinking 
vessel, shoes, thongs, and clothes ; and riddle 15 describes ‘ horn ’ 
as a drinking-horn, a trumpet- Shem, and the Geeonauee of a 
ship’s prow. 

Trautmann,? while in general agreement with the solution, 
disagrees with the details of Blackburn’s interpretation. Lines 
5 and 6, which Blackburn explains as referring to ‘harp,’ and 
‘cup,’ Trautmann prefers to interpret as referring to ‘ the cross ’ 
—apparently on the ground that there are no instances extant 
in which * beam ’ is used to express * harp’ and ‘ cup.’ 

Professor Schror’s theory ® is that the whole passage which 
Trautmann assigns to ‘cross’ refers really to the ‘ Osculatorium,’ 
* Dieses instrumentum pacis war ein Tafelchen auf welchem das 
Zeichen des Kreuzes oder ein Bildniss Christi angebracht war.’ 


1 Blackburn, Journal of Germanic Philology, iii. 
2 Bonner Bettrdge zur Anglistik, Heft 19, p. 211. 
3 Tbid., Heit 19, pp. 214, 215. 


(Z'o be completed in the next volume.) 


AN ANALYSIS OF THE FEMALE CHARACTERS 
OF GRILLPARZER’S DRAMAS 


BY 


AMY V. BURGESS, M.A. 


= 


AN ANALYSIS OF THE FEMALE CHAR- 


ACTERS OF GRILLPARZERS DRAMAS 
CONTRASTED WITH THOSE OF GOETHE’S 
AND SCHILLER ’S.! 


Ir has been said that in the great world of woman Shakespeare 
is the sole authentic oracle of truth, and with true British per- 
sistency we have clung to this notion, ignoring the splendid 
genius, the wonderful insight into a woman’s heart which Grill- 
parzer has displayed. We say ‘wonderful’ advisedly, for he 
had very little intercourse with women, and yet his greatest 
characters are always female characters. His mother was a 
sensitive, highly-strung woman with a love of morbid intro- 
spection, which finally led to suicide in a fit of religious mania. 
Thus he did not find the prototype of true womanhood in her, 
but he himself had almost a woman’s heart and the intuition, 
or rather the genius, to interpret aright its varied moods and 
phases. Moreover, he loved Shakespeare with a comprehensive 
understanding of Shakespeare’s mind and the psychological treat- 
ment of his female characters. There is no servile imitation : 
we find indisputable originality in all his portraits, and they faith- 
fully depict womanhood for all ages, no matter what the disguise 
may be. 

Byron has said of him after reading an Italian translation of 
Sappho: “The man has done a great thing in writing this play. 
I know him not, but future ages will. He is too Madame de 
Staélish now and then, but altogether a great and goodly writer.’ 

With these fair words of praise for Grillparzer from a great 
poet whom we revere, we would begin the analysis of the female 
characters of his dramas. 


1 [This psychological study is absolutely original and uninfluenced by the 
views of any previous critics of the poet. Grillparzer, the rival of Schiller and 
Goethe in the realm of dramatic poetry, was born in Vienna in 1791 and died there 
in 1872. His dramas, in chronological order, are: Blanka von Castilien, 1807; Die 
Ahnfrau, 1816; Sappho, 1817; Das goldene Vivess, 1820; Kénig Ottoker’s Glick 
und Ende, 1823; Hin treuer Diener seines Herrn, 1827; Des Meeres und der Liebe 
Wellen, 1831; Der Traum im Leben, 1831; Weh dem, der liigt, 1838; Libussa, 
1847; Hin Bruderzwist in Habsburg, 1848; Die Jiidin von Toledo, 1855.— 
H. Eva. | 

. E 65 


66 GRILLPARZER’S FEMALE CHARACTERS 


HERO 


Hero in Des Meeres und der Liebe Wellen has been called the 
most charming of Grillparzer’s four wise women—Hero, Libussa, 
Medea, and Sappho. In spite of her intellectual gifts, she has a 
simple mind, a girlishness and fund of gentle humour, a lovable- 
ness that reminds us of Melitta, and she has, too, much of the 
wisdom of Sappho. 

She, too, will be the priestess of Aphrodite, and is to be duly 
enrolled in her service on this festive day when we first see her. 
She comes down the temple steps, bearing her basket of flowers, | 
and rejoicing with all the enthusiasm of youth that the day is 
fair, that no clouds are in the sky, that the earth is flooded with 
the sun’s glorious light, and that all nature is glad on this day 
that shall see her consecrated to the Gods. 

There is a girlish satisfaction, too, in the thought that she 
will take the prominent part in the day’s rejoicings, that the 
Goddess will be glorified in her. There are no regrets to cast a 
shadow over these pleasant anticipations. 

Her ancestors have been priests and priestesses at the same 
altar, and she is but following naturally in their train. She has 
no clinging home-ties. Her only brother has left home in restless 
discontent, and it seemed as if she were only a burden in those 
days when her father scolded and grumbled, and her mother 
suffered in silence. And as for love and marriage, they are but 
vague and shadowy things to her. She places a garland about 
the statue of Hymen and Amor in decoration with the rest. She 
will ‘respect’ even what she does not * understand,’ although 
she has found no incentive to this respect in the married life of 
her parents. They come to see her on this last day of unre- 
strained free intercourse with men, and she receives them in such 
a way that we are assured of her kindly, tender disposition, and - 
of her deep feelings. 

‘OQ mother! My mother,’ she cries many times with yearning 
voice, ‘ Oh, let my mother speak to me!’ And when the greet- 
ing has been given, she cries again: ‘ O sweet, sweet voice so long 
not heard ! ’ / 

When her maidens neglected their work in the temple for the 
fragrance of the woods beyond, there is a complete understanding 
of their joy in nature, though a rebuke for their careless forgetful- 
ness of duty. 


GRILLPARZER’S FEMALE CHARACTERS 67 


‘IT am more prone to pleasure than even you,’ she says; ‘ and 
in.the evenings when play is permissible, I have often been sorry 
that you grew tired of it so soon. But I do not spoil my hours 
of work by mingling play with them.’ The rebuke increases in 
severity when Janthe—the favourite of her maidens—presumes 
to speak jestingly of the pseseae of two strangers at the gate 
of the temple. : 

Hero is keenly alive to the momentous issues of this day, to 
the henceforth sacred character of her office which entails a 
supreme dedication of her person to the Goddess, an aloofness 
from free intercourse which only one of her lofty intelligence 
could contemplate without feelings of dread. In answer to her 
uncle’s regret that she has no friend among her equals, one who 
would lighten the burden of this solitude, she says :— 

‘ T never find relief in a friend’s society. One’s duties one must 
do oneself. And this loneliness to which you refer does not 
exist for me. There is a constant coming and going of those 
who bring dedicatory offerings, who come to pray. There is my 
special work to do in the temple, flowers to bring, water to draw, 
and sacrifices to prepare.’ 

She has no desire to become a seer in the service of Aphrodite. 
She has no mysterious words of eloquence to communicate to 
the people. The men and women of her race have been famous 
for their oracular utterances and divinations, but she has no ear 
for these interior voices. She hears no whispers of the Gods in 
the darkness. For her, ‘ the night is for rest, the day for work,’ 


and she will go about her simple tasks with the pleasant conscious- | 


ness of some practical duty performed. 

The thought of the cheerful seclusion of the temple brings 
far more happiness than does the remembrance of her home life 
and the haunting fear of the husband they would give her. 

She has drifted as a child into this temple life, her future path 
has lain open before her. There have been no thorns and briars 
to remove, no obstacles to overcome. She has walked quickly 
and easily so far without any thought of pleasant dalliance by 
the way. Now her mother before the final step is taken will 
stop her with the thought of marriage and the happiness it might 
bring. But she is a poor pleader, and Hero soon interrupts her 
with a scornful laugh, reminding her of the tyranny that reigns 
in her own married life, of the self-complacency of man, and the 
narrow, cramped sphere of woman. 


68 GRILLPARZER’S FEMALE CHARACTERS 


In her free, unfettered life of thought and observation, in 
the direct communion with Nature, her mind has expanded, her 
intellect has become keen and strong. She explains this quaintly 
by saying that the Goddess had ‘changed her heart.’ But while 
this life has broadened her mind and deepened her intelligence, 
it has narrowed her sympathies for the outside world, it has 
encouraged a serene self-sufficiency, from which only the 
coming of love, and the anguish that it brings, will shake 
her free. 

‘Tf I return home with thee,’ she says to her mother in answer 
to the latter’s pathetic appeal for the presence of a daughter in 
the home, ‘ there will be a hundred disturbing elements that will 
penetrate with rude violence into the quiet kingdom of my well- 
ordered thoughts, where my resolves germinate, grow and ripen 
in the mild beams of a God-given light. I will spend my days here 
with cheerful mind near the altar of my Goddess, doing the right, 
not because it is so ordained, but because I recognise it as such, 
and no one shall draw me hence.’ 

And again: ‘O mother, when the home life torments thee, 
then come to me. Here is no warfare, no wounds are felt, the 
Goddess knows no anger, and this temple welcomes me ever with 
the same kind glance. Dost thou know the joy of quiet self- 
containment ?’ Then in direct contrast to these words of narrow 
selfishness, she rescues the dove from the slave’s hands, who is 
bearing it from the precincts of the temple, for no bird must 
disturb its sacred tranquillity. She rescues it and smooths its 
ruffled plumage, quieting its fluttering with reassuring words, 
encouraging it to fly away from the rough handling of the slave, 
and comforting her mother the while, who sees her own despair 
in the helpless beating of its wings. ) 

The festival begins with great pomp and ceremony. To the 
sound of sweet melodies on the flute, the procession advances. 
At its head are the chief men of Sestos, followed by the servants of 
the temple, the priests, and in their midst comes Hero wearing 
the mantle and fillet of her office. Her uncle walks beside her, 
and behind are her father and mother. They advance slowly 
to the music of a solemn, stately chant. 


Mother of the mortals, 

Thou that dwellest in the heavens, 
Look down upon us 

With protecting care. 


GRILLPARZER’S FEMALE CHARACTERS 69 


Then the priest calls forth: ‘ Reverence to the Gods!’ and all 
the people respond: ‘ Happiness to mortals!’ Hero stands 
before the altar, in front kneel her two acolytes bearing incense 
in costly vessels. 

‘Be mercifuleto thy servant,’ she says, pouring incense into 
the flame, and advances until she comes to the statue of Amor. 
Here she pauses to say: “Thou who dost give love, take all my 
love.’ 2 

She stands then by the altar of Hymen. 

Up to this point all has gone well. She has done her part with 
calm, dignified mien. 

Now she trembles, she stammers in uncertainty. She has seen 
Leander, a stranger who has come to witness the religious cere- 
mony, ‘standing there by the pillar watching her. He has gazed 
at her with kindling passion, and her heart has gone out to him, 
though her lips strive to mutter still. 

‘Thou who dost give love, accept’ . . . But no stone god has 
quickened her pulses and brought a sudden light to her eyes, but 
rather a man dark with raven locks clustering about his brow, 
of broad build and strong muscles, bearing the likeness, perhaps, 
of this God Hymen, but with swift blood running through his 
veins—a splendid type of manhood. | 

The ceremony continues, the dedication is complete, hence- 
forth Hero is sacred to her Goddess and can belong to no man. 
In the absorbing details of this service, Hero has regained her 
wonted self-composure. She has a very real satisfaction in her 
new position, and the elaborate and solemn rites of the festival 
have so far obliterated the remembrance of the disturbing presence 
of the stranger that we find her early the next morning singing 
gaily as she carries her water-pots through the pleasant temple 


grove. 
Then said the god: 
Come hither to me 
Up into my clouds 
To stay beside me. 


She is simply clad, and the dignified reserve of the new 
priestess of Aphrodite has been discarded with her stately, sweep- 
ing vestments. 

She is a simple, glad child of nature now, with a backward 
look perhaps at times and a smothered sigh as she recalls the 
handsome stranger and the lonely mother who must wend her 


iy 
ie 


70 GRILLPARZER’S FEMALE CHARACTERS 


way wearily homewards without this daughter’s smile and sym- 
pathy. But for herself she is glad to be anchored safely in this 
peace and tranquillity. There will be no vexatious problems 
to solve, no uneasy doubts as to the path she must pursue. So 
in her contentment she sings again the joyous lay that her uncle 
has condemned as being too careless for her lips. And as she 
advances singing, unconscious of the presence of strangers, 
Leander rushes forward and kneels at her feet, dumb in her 
presence and abashed by the sense of her propinquity. Nau- 
kleros, his friend, has to explain that he is a man sick with the 
fever of love, and of love for her. 

Hero, who has been the high priestess for only a few short 
hours, has not yet laid aside her womanliness—a womanliness 
that is easily stirred by the sight of suffering, a sympathy*that is 
wholly roused by this silent appeal—a certain motherliness that 
would protect this love-sick boy from the rage of her uncle. 

She is too conscious of the inviolability of her person, of her 
new dignity, to be as yet influenced by his love. 

‘Thou art ill-advised, good youth,’ she says to him, ‘to let thy 
heart. stray like this. I am the priestess of the High Goddess, 
and my vow commands that I should ever remain unwed. Thy 
wooing is fraught with danger to thee and me.’ Then as her 
words draw forth no response, and he still remains by her filled 
with a deep melancholy, she eas again gently as a mother 
to her suffering child :-— 

‘Go, I say, from this grove and give thy love to another 
maiden. And when the yearly festival returns, come back to 
this temple, and I shall be glad to see thee again, and know that 
thou hast recovered thy quiet mind.’ 

But these words force from Leander the passionate protest 
that he will never love another woman, that his whole being shall 
become one with the trees and flowers of this spot that guards | 
the temple where she dwells. 

These are extravagant words, but they voice a very real 
devotion and love. ) 

Hero is at least happy in the knowledge that her lover is 
passionately sincere in the declaration of his love. He is not 
worthy of her, is not her equal in mental growth, but these dear, 
wise women are tragically foolish in the choice of their lovers. 

Medea, the savage, renounces country, kinsfolk, riches, power, 
and influence to wander forth mto a strange land with Jason, 


GRILLPARZER’S FEMALE CHARACTERS ol 


who quickly wearies of her and turns to a maiden of his own race. 
Sappho, the illustrious, far-famed Sappho, looks down from the 
Olympian heights to give her heart to a handsome Greek athlete, 
who has no understanding of her genius, who despises her for the 
sake of her pretty slave. Libussa chooses more wisely. Primis- 
Jaus is a man of right mind and high intellect, but she is not 
happy in her love. It brings restrictions and limitations that 
cramp her soaring spirit and bring death to her soul. 

To Hero it brings death too—not on account of its limitations, 
but because her lover dies, and her heart breaks in its agony of 
grief. But he is no fit lover for her, and we marvel at the tender- 
ness that his rash, petulant wooing calls forth. But he is brave 
—his faithful love for her inspires him with a courage that will 
dare anything for her sake. 

With these wise women, too, love proves an absorbing, de- 
structive element in their lives. Medea buries the instruments of 
the black art of sorcery, which she has acquired after long years 
of study, because they enrage her lover. She lays aside the 
insignia of her office, the veil and cloak, and dons Greek apparel 
that she may be more pleasing in his eyes. 

Sappho neglects her high calling, hangs up her lyre on the 
wall, scorns her laurel wreath and forsakes the ministry of song 
to descend to “the low valleys of human desire,’ where Phaon 
walks. Even Libussa with a husband appreciative of great 
mental gifts lives as a simple cottage wife until her brain grows 
dull and her splendid comprehension of men and human life 
loses its force. 

And Hero whose whole being had been fired with the lofty 
enthusiasm of filling worthily this high and sacred office, becomes 
dominated by a dull feeling of disappointment and weariness as 
she enters upon her heritage, as she takes up her life in the narrow 
rooms of this high tower, on whose summit the grey clouds of 
evening seem to rest, and at whose base the angry sea surges. 
Love has called to her this day, and she still hears his voice as her 
uncle shows to her the two rooms set apart for her special use. 
She listens as in a dream to his explanation of the use of this 
thing and that. At last he grows impatient at her listless ap- 
preciation, and chides her gently for her apparent lack of interest 
in her new surroundings, and then she strives to banish these 
flitting impressions of the outside world where warm human love 
is waiting for her. 


72 GRILLPARZER’S FEMALE CHARACTERS © 


‘You know, uncle,’ she says, ‘we are not always master of 
our moods and fancies—they come, pass, and go; arise out of 
nothing and leave no trace behind. Grant me this night of 
rest and repose, and thou shalt find me again in my usual mind.’ 

These are not idle words. She does not intend to drift into 
vain dreams of fruitless desires for what can never be now. 

This composure of mind, this reserve of quiet strength shall 
be hers, though it will not raise her to serene heights whence 
she can view with unchanging will the restless energy and un- 
realised ambitions of humanity. 

Hero has no soaring desire to discover the purposes of the 
Gods and to become the interpreter of their voices. Once before 
she has gently but firmly refused to listen to her uncle’s lofty 
plans concerning her. She has told him that she will serve in the 
temple making it beautiful for her Goddess ; she will zealously 
perform the practical duties of a priestess, but she has not the 
gifts of a seer. 

Now, on the evening of the first day of this new life, she 
reminds him again that she will conscientiously fulfil her special 
duties, and therewith be content. There is a brief moment of 
regret for his evident disappomtment, but when he leaves her, 
she abandons herself to idle thoughts of what the day has brought 
to her. 

The memory of Leander, ‘that handsome youth of quiet, 
thoughtful mien,’ as she calls him to herself, lingers pleasantly, 
although she drives it impatiently from her. It robs her of all 
desire to sleep, and torments her with a restlessness which is very 
_ far removed from that composure, that deep tranquillity which 
she has told her uncle this night’s rest will bring. The priestess 
of Aphrodite is no longer here. Her pulses have been stirred 
and emotions roused ; and now as she listens to the soft lapping of 
the water far below, to the uncertain whispers of the night, the 
stern realities of her life become visionary, vague and illusive, 
and what is real to her is the face of Leander as he poured forth 
his love. | | 

When he actually appears after swimming an incredible dis- 
tance from Abydos and climbing the tower which would have 
brought death to any other but this intrepid lover, she shows 
alarmed surprise, a- quick anxiety about this perilous enterprise, 
a futile attempt to regain the befitting dignity and severity of the 
priestess as she bids him go, reminding him once more of the 


GRILLPARZER’S FEMALE CHARACTERS 73 


lasting obligations of her calling. But her new position is too 
recent to have stifled the natural feelings of womanhood and love. 
The words of censure are but a pretence, and when he pleads for 
permission to come again, her emphatic refusal changes with 
charming inconsistency into the tender command that he shall 
come to her to-morrow, and he must not be too hazardous, too 
careless of himself since he is hers. 

In a spirit of innocent, girlish coquetry, she bids him fold 
his arms behind-him as he kneels before her awaiting impatiently 
her farewell kiss. 

‘Fold thy arms like a prisoner,’ she cries, “my prisoner of love.’ 

And the lamp, her ‘ pale friend of gentle ight,’ must be hidden 
that it shall not see this self-surrender. 

There is something immensely pathetic in this charming 
scene with danger lurking on every hand, the certain discovery 
and awful punishment that will follow. The tragedy of it is 
already written in their young faces as they tremble at the sound 
of a distant footstep, or the mysterious murmurs of the night. 

She saves him once from the watchman’s vigilance, and now 
he reaches the bottom of the tower in safety and plunges into the 
sea to return to Abydos. 

Then all her woman’s wits are engaged in screening his visit 
and departure. 

She laughs with careless scorn at the watchman’s account 
of the strange noises in the night, and of the man he has seen 
swimming in the sea. 

She laughs with her maid Janthe over the interpretation 
he would give to it, and tells her uncle that it may have been 
one of the immortals who has honoured her with his presence 
on this great day of her life. And then she sings in sudden 
abstraction :— 


“She was so fair, 
A royal child. 


But her secret she will keep, and once more resourceful she re- 
fuses with gentle dignity to allow him to dismiss Janthe whose 
complicity he fears, and assures him that she is mindful of her 
rights and of her duties too, and will ever be faithful to them. 

She is strong in her endeavour to preserve her lover’s life, but 
what are her resources compared with this man’s deep cunning 
and strategy. 


74 GRILLPARZER’S FEMALE CHARACTERS 


Evening comes at length, after the long, weary day, when 
she can be alone with no further need to feign and pretend before 
these prying eyes. The lamp which is to guide him across the 
Hellespont is lit, and she waits with troubled, anxious thoughts 
lest harm should befall her dear one. 

As sleep overcomes her, she murmurs his name, dreaming that 
the soughing of the wind, and the rustling of the leaves are loving 
words of his to her. But when she awakes, the lamp is out, it is 
already day, and Leander has not been to her. There has been 
a storm in the night and she offers a prayer of thankfulness that 
he did not venture. 

‘The Gods are so good,’ she cries, ‘so good! I will give 
them the thanks of simple gratitude, and will rid myself of much 
that is not right, is not according to their will.’ 

And yet only a few steps from her, near the shells and sea- 
weed which the storm has tossed on to the shore, Leander lies dead, 
still clasping the veil she gave him as a token. 

With her prayer of thankfulness frozen on her lips, she stares 
down at the dead form of her dear lover. There is no further 
need to disguise her grief—nothing matters now that Leander is 
dead. He is taken away from her to be buried, and she stands 
there with an empty heart, with a sorrow too great for tears, 
accusing herself, her uncle, and Naukleros for all this woe. 

‘Oh, I will weep,’ she cries, ‘I will open my veins, and my 
blood shall pour forth, and mingling with my tears, shall sur- 
round me as deep and terrible and deadly as that sea which 
engulfed him.’ 

‘He was everything to me,’ she says again; ‘all else is but 
shadow and emptiness. His breath was the air, his eye the sun, 
his body nature’s strength. His life was the universal life—thine 
and mine.’ 

Her grief is in truth most pitiful. It has changed the thought- 
less, laughter-loving Janthe into one who has looked upon a 
great sorrow, and has realised the deep pangs of bereavement. 

She loves her mistress and would shield her loyally from all 
blame. She will comfort her with all tenderness, trying to 
soothe her agony of despair. She has seen her lying on the dead 
man’s breast with lips pressed against his lips, hands clasping his 
in the mad hope of restoring life. And seeing these things she 
has cried out aloud :— 

‘ Love shall never come near me.’ 


GRILLPARZER’S FEMALE CHARACTERS 75 


She stays by her mistress to the end, and with her sympathy 
and comprehension of the needs of grief might have saved her 
life, but the blind cruelty of the priest deals blow on blow till 
poor tortured Hero gives up her dead to be buried in some distant 
place. She knows not where. 

A fatal apathy creeps over her—‘the Gods have willed it 
thus ’—she will take counsel with her Goddess. But on the 
altar steps she sinks down heavily with one loud cry of * Leander ! ’ 
and even Janthe’s endeavours to restore life are unavailing. 

O kind and loving Janthe, surely much shall be forgiven thee 
for thy tender sympathy. It severs all class distinctions, and 
brooks no artificial restraint. She was the servant—the inferior 
—and this man whom she now addresses as her equal, nay, as a 
mean criminal, is the high priest of the great Aphrodite. 

‘Wise fool,’ she cries, ‘come look upon the work of thy 
wisdom. Go in silence, and may righteous punishment go with 
thee. But I will return to my parent’s home. I cannot bear 

to live here any longer.’ She has done what she could, and this 
thought will lighten the grief that she must feel for many days 
for her dear mistress. 

But it is well with Hero. Her fate has touched us deeply, 
but the agony of grief that has broken her heart is in truth 
kinder than the dull despair, the hopeless loneliness, the mono- 
tonous round of temple duties which would only have ac- 
-centuated her loss. For Hero was first of all a woman, and when 
her woman’s desire had failed, there was no service of the Gods, 
no office of the priestess, that could compensate for the death 
of Leander. 


LIBUSSA 


Lrpussa is the central figure of a group of learned women 
composed of Kascha and Tetka, her two sisters and their five 
serving-maids. All are eagerly intent on the acquisition of fresh 
knowledge drawn from the observation of the heavens, from 
mysterious signs and tokens. They withdraw as much as possible 
from human intercourse, they hold themselves selfishly aloof from 
mankind that they may the better devote themselves to their 
barren learning. Man is a factor scarcely to be considered in 
their outlook on life—certainly unessential to their happiness. 
Life to them is the solving of abstruse problems relative to human 
origin and destiny. 


76 GRILLPARZER’S FEMALE CHARACTERS 


Kascha, in her own words, ‘ hovers beneath the stars, sways 
the depths, holds in willing subjection all nature and her powers.’ 

And Tetka, with equal self-complacency, assures us that her 
‘sunny realm of ancient lore and learning beams with a brighter 
light than any human kingdom.’ 

For her, will, power, intellectual force are omnipotent ; she 
even hazards the declaration that * Death itself may be driven 
back by the weapons of stern resolution and iron determination.’ 
‘If I had stood by my father’s bed,’ she cries, “and had re- 
minded him of the many who need his help, he would have bravely 
challenged death and recovered.’ 

Both the sisters refuse to govern this rude people in their 
father’s stead. Both dread the violation of their privacy and 
the consequent abandonment of their own cherished aims—the 
stunting of their intellectual growth. 

Kascha says: ‘He who will not be weak and miserable as 
men are must keep far away from their midst.’ 

It is the old monastic idea so prevalent in the middle ages— 
retirement from the world lest the cries of suffering humanity 
should disturb the calm serenity of the soul, the contemplative 
tranquillity of the mind. They refuse to allow Libussa to come 
back into their midst lest her contact with the outside world 
should prove a disturbing element to their thought. 

Kascha says again: ‘He who will follow the track of the 
higher powers must be at one with himself, even as his spirit is 
one. He who cannot concentrate the varied forces of his being, 
making them subservient to his spirit, whose mind is invaded 
‘by earthly cares, desires and memory—that most exacting thing 
of all—enjoys henceforth no solitude in which the human being 
can commune with himself.’ | 

The servants, too, follow zealously in the footsteps of their 
mistresses in this high cause of spiritualising matter, and of 
glorifying the intellect. 

Wlasta, Libussa’s special maid, is at their head. They say 
of her that she is half a man and wields her weapons like a warrior ; 
but when her mistress forsakes her high estate to marry a man 
of the people, Wlasta leaves her for the service of her two sisters. 

‘It is my sorrow,’ she says, ‘that my gracious mistress is 
bound to a son of the dust’; and again she says sadly to Libussa :— 

‘Thou hast trodden in the ways of men, hast left the circle 
of thine own. The soaring spirit, holy inspiration which were 


GRILLPARZER’S FEMALE CHARACTERS 77 


formerly natural to thee are now forced, artificial.’ Swartka and 
Dobra are versed in astrology and consult ancient books to read 
the future by their help. They converse soberly in an unin- 
telligible jargon of astrological phrases in conscientious imitation 
of their illustrious mistresses. 

Dobromila studies history—‘the course of time from the 
beginning,’ as she calls it, and marvels that Primislaus does not 
know the stars. Slawa seeks protection with Primislaus from 
the rough attentions of some men on the road, and treats him 
to a short homily on the baseness of his sex. 

“How lamentable is the mind of man,’ she cries. ‘It over- 
looks all that honours and ennobles a human being and only regards 
exterior charms.’ 

These are the wise women and their maids—a most formidable 
company, in truth, before whom even Moliére’s Précieuses would 
feel abashed ; but the one who evokes our sympathies is Libussa. 
She is a simple child of nature, influenced, of course, by this 
environment of learning, but with a heart susceptible to the 
beauty of the woods, the trees and flowers, and to the glory of 
the heavens, not seeking in them mysterious signs for the un- 
ravelling of fate, but enjoying them with unaffected delight. Her 
sensitive and delicate disposition loves solitude and unrestrained, 
quiet communings with nature. But she is ready to relinquish 
all this to take up the new responsibilities of the government 
of this people. 

‘Tt is no question of desire,’ she says, ‘ but of obligation and 
duty.’ 

And yet this new life is more attractive to her than is the 
unnatural life of her sisters. 

‘These occupations,’ she says, ‘with moon, stars, herbs, 
letters and numbers seem monotonous and barren. To belong 
to humanity will henceforth be my delight.’ 

But it is just this entry into the cold world of realities, this 
wider horizon of human activity and culture, that crush her 
sensitive heart. Like Sappho she departs from the quiet realm 
of thought and meditation, and as in Sappho’s case, this departure 
—this Rickiritt—brings death. 

She begins her reign in the belief that gentle forbearance, — 
careful justice, and a heart-felt interest in her people will bring 
peace and contentment. 

‘T am a woman,’ she says to the envoys, ‘and stern severity 


78 GRILLPARZER’S FEMALE CHARACTERS 


displeases me. But if you will remember my woman’s feelings 
and be obedient to the rein so that no spur is necessary, I will 
willingly guide you along the road to fame and renown.’ 

We soon see the evidences of her beneficent rule in the in- 
creased prosperity of her people. She rejoices in their innocent 
amusements, but does not permit pleasure to impede toil. She 
takes a kindly interest in her subjects individually, knows them 
by name and reconciles estrangements, prescribes remedies for 
the sick, goes in and out among them as a gracious friend. But 
she fails when the occasion demands the sharp decision, the firm 
will, and unbending severity of the ruler. Dissensions arise, 
against which her wise words of counsel are of no avail. There 
is the fear of invasion from without, and her subjects unversed 
in warfare dread defeat. They require a man at the helm, and 
Libussa sends for Primislaus—not that she has any personal need 
of him. She has told him at their first meeting that she is not 
a woman that a man can woo, and though her intuition has told 
her that he has great wisdom and reliable judgment, she has as 
yet no personal affection for him. Marriage is as undesirable 
to her as it is to her sisters. 

She has recognised that she cannot govern alone, but it is 
with great reluctance that she decides to take a husband, for she 
has no great respect for men. | 

‘Tf one bids a woman fulfil a task,’ she says, ‘it is done at 
once. But a man always does more than is required. If she 
likes to talk, he delights to listen, and what he calls thirst for 
knowledge in his own sex, he calls inquisitiveness in the other. 
Tf he were not too lazy, he would talk more than she does.’ 

So love is not a necessity for her supreme happiness as is the 


case with the other wise women—Hero, Sappho, and Medea. 


With them love dominates their being entirely. But in Libussa’s 
case, the man is the imperative adjunct of her life, and she chooses 
the man Primislaus, not because her love to him demands it, 
but because he is the ‘ protector ’ that she needs, the ‘ judge who 
will declare her decrees,’ the man whom her people will obediently 
follow. | 3 

Primislaus realises the petrifying influence that power has 
had on Libussa, hardening her soft emotions, making her scornful 
and proud when she would have been pitiful and gentle before 
Destiny forced her into this unnatural position. The change in 
her is clearly apparent to him as he eagerly supports her idle 


GRILLPARZER’S FEMALE CHARACTERS ag 


suggestion to lay aside the crown and return to her former simple 
life. 

‘Oh! do it, Libussa,’ he urges. ‘Be once more that maiden 
who appeared to me in the forest whose green glade is thy king- 
dom and thou, thyself, the crown.’ 

Her assumed majesty is very faulty. We perceive the weak 
places in her armour at once. She shows a girlish petulance 
at Primislaus’s tardy appearance when she has sent a special 
messenger to bid him come and a feminine desire to dazzle him 
with her royal state and splendour. She says :— 

‘I almost repent of having sent fools to fetch this other fool 
who delays when swiftness should seem slow to him, since I 
deign to remember him still.’ 

‘If the woman does not appear worthy of his visit, then the 
princess shall claim his respect.’ Upon this she summons her 
courtiers and ascends the throne to impress him with her authority. 
When he comes before her, she resents his quiet air of self-pos- 
session and dignity, and the interpretation which he gives to her 
parable of the king and the lost ring, because it does not coincide 
with her own. 

She grows bitterly ironical over his aphorism that ‘a man 
goes slowly, but always progressively, never retrogressively.’ 

‘A man!’ she cries, ‘my sisters read the stars, Wlasta fights 
like a trained warrior, and I myself, govern this land. But we 
are only women, miserable women! Though men quarrel and 
fight in drunkenness, overlooking in their rash folly truth and 
righteousness with beclouded vision, yet they are men and_ the 
lords of creation ! ’ 

She shows, too, a quick movement of jealousy when Primis- 
laus jests with Wlasta in the tower, and even condescends to 
censure him on its account. 

‘It merits even greater indignation,’ she says. 

These are the frailties which reveal the sensitive mind within, 
and they expose her to the ingratitude of her people and their 
growing discontent and impatience of her rule. She only knows 
peace when she sinks her identity into that of Primislaus, and 
transfers to him the burden of authority which has weighted her 
so sorely. 

She has loved her people and tended them ‘as a shepherd 
his sheep,’ but they will no longer be tended. They grow strong 
in their own strength and consciousness of strength. But with 


80 GRILLPARZER’S FEMALE CHARACTERS 


this subjection of will to her husband’s, in this new relationship 
of dependence on him, her spiritual powers decline. There is no 
further need to exercise them in her reliance on his wisdom. 
But this brings a sluggishness of brain and a dull apathy that 
paralyses all her forces. She is, too, painfully conscious of her 
own deficiencies to assert her convictions, to re-establish her 
claims. 

He offers her always a tender devotion, a chivalrous solicitude 
which assures her domestic happiness, but it restricts her energies 
to a narrow sphere, and stunts her mental growth. The advance 
towards civilisation, the building of towns, the scheme for new 
industries, development in commerce, which Primislaus promotes 
with such frank enthusiasm, finds no response in her heart. She 
foresees that this culture will bring a division of interests, dis- 
sension, war with all its hideous train. She ceases to oppose his 
plans, and even prepares to take her place at the altar to call for 
a blessing on the initiative work of building the city. But the 
effort taxes her enfeebled health, her failing spirit, and causes 
her death. In a moment of renewed inspiration she becomes 
a seer, a prophetess, foreseeing the onward march of civilisation 
and with it the loss of contemplative calm and repose. 

But after many days men will tire of the rush and turmoil 
that it will bring, and will embrace again a simple life whose 
dominant factor shall be love. 

The word has been spoken, and the speaker passes hence. 
Kascha understands the manner of her going. 

‘She was lent to thee,’ she says to Primislaus, * but not given.’ 
But in the lending her delicate mind handled by rough hands 
was broken, and for such there is no repair. And Wlasta 
Says :— | 

‘She had no abiding place among men. Her place was with 
her sisters whose companionship she craved.’ 

Her life has been a so-called failure, doomed from the begin- 
ning to disappointment, but her aims were wholly for the good 
of others, and as such must bear fruit in all succeeding generations. 
The civilisation that she deplored was bound to come as man 
learnt to know his fellows, and although it brought the evils that 
she anticipated, there came, too, a deeper understanding of men’s 
needs, a wider sympathy and a clearer comprehension of the 
meaning of human brotherhood. 


GRILLPARZER’S FEMALE CHARACTERS 81 


MEDEA 


In Medea we are confronted with the elemental passions of 
woman freed from all artificial restraint—a love that renounces 
home, friends and country, anger, hatred and jealousy that destroy 
in their fury all that oppose them ; yet these become exquisitely 
human and pitiful by reason of her great love for Jason and his 
utter faithlessness towards her. 

She is a savage, a barbarian, according to her bringing-up 
and immediate environment. As the daughter of the king of 
Colchis, she has early become accustomed to the sight of brutal 
murder—of those who invade their country and of strangers who 
land on their shore. She is versed in all the arts of sorcery ; she 
can brew potions which invite sluggish sleep, and make the 
victims powerless to resist attack. But she is no typical witch 
with matted hair, bowed form, and claw-like hands, but rather 
a very splendid specimen of young womanhood, a lover of out- 
door sports, a swift runner and a scorner of sentiment and the 
weakening effects of love. : 

We are introduced to her as she stands with poised bow, from 
which she has just shot an arrow that has pierced the roe’s heart. 
It is at a religious ceremony, for Medea preserves her woman- 
hood so far that she observes all the religious rites of the country 
—the sacrifices to the gods, and the means to propitiate them. 
But we imagine that it is a somewhat impatient tolerance, and 
that her strong brain feels some scorn of it. 

‘Now,’ she cries, ‘ let that suffice ; the victim has been offered, 
it is enough. Now bring bow and arrow, unleash the dogs. Let 
us away, and she who runs the swiftest shall be queen of the 
day.’ 

But Peritta, one of her maidens, has fallen into disgrace, for 
she has permitted herself to be wooed by a shepherd, and has 
abased herself by returning his love. Medea is as yet intolerant 
of love. She is superb in her self-sufficiency—in her scorn of any 
weak betrayal of self. But she lacks sympathy, an understand- 
ing mind, as all such natures must. What scorn she hurls at 
trembling Peritta with her love-tale ready to unfold before a 
sympathetic mistress ! 

* Didst thou not promise to be mine, and not belong to any 
man. If I had pledged thee my word in anything, yea, to the 
cutting off of this hand, I would have done it ! ’ 

F 


82 GRILLPARZER’S FEMALE CHARACTERS 


And when Peritta begins her stammering apology that she 
had not meant to, how pitilessly she breaks in with : “ Not meant 
to! Away! Thou speakest the words of a fool! What I do, 
I mean to do. Go then to thy shepherd in his dank hut, and 
' IT will breast the free mountain air. My garden is the measureless 
earth, and the blue canopy of heaven confines my house ! ’ 

These are very brave words; but Medea, though steeped in 
the arts of sorcery, has no prophetic vision to reveal to her that 
time when she, too, shall be under Love’s sway. But it will not 
be the honest love of a shepherd lad, there will be no quiet shelter 
of a modest cottage home. Thy lover, Medea, will have the 
fierce, lustful passion of a mighty conqueror, and as soon as he - 
has curbed thy proud will and won thy heart, he will pass on, 
tiring quickly of thee and thy wild ways. Can it indeed be tke 
same Medea who when Jason, her lover, has come speaks thus 
to her father ? 

‘There is something in our human nature, independent of our 
will power, and it attracts and repels with blind force as a magnet 
attracts iron... But,’ she adds in the characteristic way, ‘the 
attraction may be there, still my will power can refuse to obey its 
call.’ 

And yet this will power proves but a broken reed and fails to 
withstand her masterful lover. She recognises his compelling 
charm with an inward shuddering, and struggles to free herself 
from it. She is so strong in other things, she will be strong in 
this too. Her craven father has relied on her resourceful wit. 
Did she not drug the invader Phryxus and his friends with her 
_ poisonous drink so that they fell an easy prey to the sword ? 
She coaxed from him his sword at her father’s bidding, and then 
too late realises the enormity of the crime and the curse that 
the possession of the Fleece will bring. All trace of the murder 
of Phryxus has been removed, but the terrible curse he pro- 
nounced tortures and racks her, reminding her of her share in this. — 
death and of its fulfilment that may come at any moment, and 
driving her at length to the seclusion of a lonely, ruined tower 
near the sea, where she brews her potions, and considers the dark 
utterances of sorcery the whole day. 

Hither her father and brother come begging for help against 
the new invaders, Jason and his band, who come to avenge the 
murder of Phryxus and to recapture the Golden Fleece. 

Very different is she from that earlier Medea whom we saw 


GRILLPARZER’S FEMALE CHARACTERS 83 


chafing at the restraint of sacrificial rites, eager to unleash her 
dogs to follow the chase, and out-do her maidens in swift racing. 
We have now a Medea, imbued with sage notions of humanity and 
life through her lonely brooding over her father’s crime, and 
the probable fate of her house. 

‘Murder,’ she says, “is like a foolish archer who shoots his 
arrow into the thicket eager to reach his prey, but what he ac- 
counted his prey was his own child seeking berries among the 
bushes.’ And again :— 

‘Man, methinks, is a foolish being driven hither and thither 
on the billows of time. At last he espies a spot of green formed 
of slime and the green mould of decay ; but in his blindness he 
cries out, “Land! Land! at last!’ and reaches it with great 
difficulty, only to sink into even greater abysses than before.’ 

However, there seems to be no incongruity in a wild bar- 
barism revealing this cynical philosophy which has become part 
of her. It is a strong intelligence come to its own through the 
contemplation of nature, through the earnest study of the spirit 
world, and of the powers of darkness—questionable knowledge, 
it is true—knowledge that would have brought her to the stake 
a few centuries later, but which has shown her her own limita- 
tions to understand the dark mystery of Fate and existing evil, 
and which has made her turn with one more despairing appeal 
to her altar as she makes mysterious passes with her wand in 
the air, summoning these unseen powers with a lurid, stately 
chant :— 

‘Ye who pass hither in the raiment of night, 
Upborne on the wings of the storm, 
Who delight in swift action and wingéd deed, 
Ye terrible Princes of Darkness, 
To you f call! 
Give me tidings, sure tidings, 
Of all that frowns upon us, 
Of all that smiles.’ 


It is thus that Jason sees her for the first time. He has pene- 
trated alone into the desolate tower, and discovers to his amaze- 
ment this magnificent barbarian clad in dark crimson robes, 
bordered with gold of strange device, and with a long black veil 
sweeping behind attached to a gold-embroidered head-band. 

He sees her, but his mind is full of horror at the black arts 
she is practising, and he rushes forward to stay her, wounding 


84 GRILLPARZER’S FEMALE CHARACTERS 


her arm with the point of his sword. And Medea, who had no 
fear of men or ought living, cowers before this unknown stranger, 
trembling at sight of him. Does she know that her lord and 
master has come ?. Does she realise that all her love will go out 
to this man, whether it be for good or ill? She who has but 
just vowed to destroy this enemy of her father stands now speech- 
less when she should have used her wiles to ensnare him. Nay, 
she stays her brother’s hand when he would rush upon the stranger. 
And the next morning Medea is mild and gentle with her maidens. 
One comes to her in terror, dreading her wrath when she tells her 
of the loss of a favourite horse. But Medea receives her kindly, 
and tells her that all is well. Peritta, with her mind full of that 
rebuke when she faltered out her love for the shepherd lad, finds 
her mistress ready with tender sympathy when she hears of 
the capture of the husband and the burning of their cottage. 
She even sheds tears of womanly pity, and they marvel greatly, 
not knowing what the night has brought. Its visions still be- 
cloud her mind, for as yet she treats them but as visions. This 
stranger who dared to interrupt her sacred rites, who dared even 
to chide her with rough words, who touched her lips, is no mortal 
man but the very God Heimdar who takes the dead to Hades. 
It is a message to her from the Gods that her agonised prayers to 
avert the evil of the curse have been heard—it is to tell her that 
life which has become so perplexing, so full of hidden menace, 
will soon be ended. This interpretation, however, which fully 
satisfies her maidenly pride, is soon shattered by Gora, her nurse, 
and afterwards by her father, who reproaches her very bitterly for 
having suffered this insult. Then is Medea no longer soft and 
gentle but a very Fury—full of eagerness to slay this man who 
has dared to treat her so lightly. 

She dreams of the night—of Death stealing softly to her to 
still the aching fever of the poor, restless brain. All this is brushed 
rudely on one side to give place to her passion for revenge. It 
would have been a light thing for another maiden, but for Medea 
who had held herself so proudly aloof from love and love’s 
caresses, who shall measure the bitterness of her feelings 2 

Once more the poisonous goblet is prepared, and she herself 
will give it to the stranger, but again she stays her hand, being 
strangely moved in his presence. This love is being forced on 
her against her will. She hates its dominating influence, and 
will be rid of it. She will hide herself in the deep recesses of 


] 


GRILLPARZER’S FEMALE CHARACTERS 85 


the forests, in the lonely ravine where the Fleece lies cunningly 
concealed, and her father and brother with the chosen men of 
Colchis shall fight with the strangers till they be utterly de- 
stroyed. She will kill this love at its birth; and up to this time 
Medea’s will has triumphed over everything, but there must be 
no further temptation. She must never see him again, unless it 
be in death. In life he bends her will to his, and her great heart 
with its wild, passionate impulses must be his. Full of sorrow 
at this enforced separation from her dear ones, she makes a 
tender appeal to her father’s continued affection for her as she 
says farewell. 

But Fate intermeddles in her plan, and brings her once more 
into the presence of Jason. For a moment his dominating 
influence subdues her, and she would throw herself in subjection 
at his feet. Then with one last desperate effort she seeks to 
regain self-mastery. 

Her love at this moment is very closely allied to hatred. It is 
a moment of deep dramatic significance, and with a weaker man 
than Jason she would have triumphed. But if she is strong of 
will, he is even more so, and has, too, the physical strength which 
is fast deserting her. At one moment she would kill him, at the 
next the desire has fled. And whilst she struggles in mute agony, 
whilst her pride, filial duty—all that she has till now held dear 
—is being trampled upon by this love, which was never more 
unwelcome to any maiden, Jason pleads with her, and he is a 
very eloquent pleader, and knows how to make his manhood 
appeal to her in the most forcible way. She has never heard of 
the affinity of souls, but she quickly appreciates the poetry of the 
thought that she is the other half of Jason’s self that he has 
vainly sought for long years. This rapid analysis of herself as 
a girl eager to love, whom flowers and jewels should adorn rather 
than sword and dagger, is perilously sweet to her, and the music of 
it intoxicates her senses to her own undoing. Her pride may 
still protest—she will not in words declare her love—but when 
he is in danger, when her father again threatens his life, she 
throws herself between them, crying aloud :— 

‘Father, do him no hurt. I love him!’ Then the mists 
of uncertainty and the darkness of impending ruin seem to roll 
away. The love for her own folks, and this new love to Jason 
surge up and flood her being. This shall be the unravelling of 
the tangled web of circumstances—Jason shall rule in Colchis 


—. 22. oe US ol ee 


86 GRILLPARZER’S FEMALE CHARACTERS 


by her father’s side—he shall be to him a son, and there will be 
no longer enmity and separation. But Aietes receives the sug- 
gestion with fury and fearful prediction of the desolation that 
will fall upon her, in which her husband will be the chief agent. 

These are terrible words for Medea, and Jason, now that he 
has attained his object, now that he has wrung from her the con- 
fession of her love, gives no gentle words of sympathy, no self- 
accusation that he should have brought all this sorrow on her. 
No sooner is her love confessed than misgivings must have arisen 
in her mind as to the nature of this man to whom she is entrusting 
her life. 

But her love yields to all his importunity to get for him the 
Golden Fleece, and when she secures to him the capture of it, 
her self-surrender is complete. All the more bitter is the growing 
conviction that Jason, now that he has turned his back upon 
this land of horrors, is beginning to regard her with aversion 
as being so closely connected with his crime. 

This mysterious land of Colchis, shrouded in mists, resounding 
with the thunderous beat of the surge on her shores, had fired 
his imagination, had stirred his love of adventure, and Medea 
had been a fitting embodiment of it all, enhancing it with her 
beauty and illusiveness. 

‘She was a ray of sunlight,’ he says, ‘illuminating a dark 
dungeon.’ 

But now all this les in the past. He has attained the Golden 
Fleece and Medea, to realise only too soon that in the sunny land 
of Greece her weird beauty and charm are out of keeping, nay, 
that she suffers infinitely in comparison with the gentle, dutiful 
- daughters of his fatherland. 

But the bitterness that the knowledge of his changed feelings 
brings to Medea cannot be adequately measured. She makes 
pathetic efforts to regain his love—buries the instruments of her 
magic art, the veil and staff of her Goddess; and more than all 
that, she buries the Golden Fleece, fearing that it is the cause of 
all her love. 

And yet she will not confess even to herself that Jason has 
ceased to love her. Gora has indeed told her that he shudders 
at sight of her, that he shuns and loathes her. She takes stock 
of what she still has—a pitiful remnant, in truth—she is his wife, 
but by what slender a tie she knows full well. She has renounced 
her black art, severed the last links that binds her to her native 


GRILLPARZER’S FEMALE CHARACTERS 87 


Jand, and now in her helplessness, in her utter dependence on 
her husband, he will surely give her the protecting love he owes 
her. 

Thus the poor heart seeks to quiet its aching fears. Jason 
chides her for wearing still the red scarf that recalls old memories 
he would fain banish; and she meekly removes it. Is this 
indeed Medea, the proud daughter of the King of Colchis ? Then, 
verily, has love worked a wondrous change, and sorrow and deep 
despair have made her kind and gentle where she could have been 
hard and bitter, taunting Jason with his faithlessness and cruelty. 

Their children form no link of tenderness between them. 
For Medea they are an added grief. They have given all their 
fresh, young love to the Greek maiden Kreusa, the gentle daughter 
of Creon, king of Corinth, tirmg perchance of the gloomy looks 
and downcast mien of their mother, and finding in Kreusa a 
sympathetic playfellow with a keen joy in life equal to their own. 

There is no wonder, too, that Jason finds relief in her friend- 
ship with its never-failing flow of sympathy. To her it is but a 
matter of idle regret that the pleasant days of childhood when 
they played together have passed away, to him it inflames the 
incipient love he bore her then. She is kind and gentle in her 
treatment of him, reminding him that a simple heart will restore 
content and happiness. They are the words of a virtuous maiden, 
who cannot understand the searing, scorching scars that the 
awful events of his life have made on Jason’s heart and brain. 

With Medea, too, she is gentle; tries to teach her with infinite 
patience a little song that Jason used to sing, and Medea, with 
pathetic desire to please her husband by being more like this 
Greek maiden, follows her stumblingly. 


O ye Gods! 

Ye illustrious Gods! 

Anoint my head, 

Expand my breast, 

That I may conquer men 
And beauteous maidens too. 


But the truth of it, as applied to Jason, strikes home. Oh, that 
she could bury that bitter memory of his wooing, how he tempted 
and drew her forth only to trample her underfoot when he had 
grown weary of her. 

And yet she loves him, and will learn at Kreusa’s feet to be 


88 GRILLPARZER’S FEMALE CHARACTERS 


gentle and kind as she is. But Kreusa chides her for some hasty 
words against her husband, evoked by cruel memory—Kreusa 
whose simple, placid temperament can never know the poignant 
grief and passion that stirs this complex nature to its very depth— 
Kreusa who can be kind and forgiving because her quiet, un- 
eventful youth has been spent in the sheltered happiness of this 
sunlit palace. She is an only daughter like that other, but with- 
out that other’s shamed sense of a father’s ignominy, and that 
bitter knowledge—than which nothing is more humiliating— 
that one who came with warm protestations of love and eager 
desire, now scorns her presence, nay, longs with shuddering to 
be rid of it. 

But the song is never sung. Jason is there awaiting it with 
contemptuous indifference and she holds the lyre, faltering out 
a line or two :— 

‘Ye Gods, ye mighty Gods!’ 


And then the song turns into a prayer—a half-uttered, sobbing 
entreaty for help, for pity :— : 

‘O ye Gods! Ye just, unrelenting Gods!’ But her agony 
does not reach her hearers. ‘The song has been forgotten, poorly 
sung,’ they say, ‘but Kreusa shall sing it as she used to when 
she and Jason were children together.’ Kreusa has not the deli- 
cacy of feeling to forbid her to triumph over this poor, despised 
woman. She stoops to pick up the lyre which Medea has thrown 
down in her despair. She will ‘ willingly ’ comply with Jason’s 
request. But in a moment, with a dramatic movement, which 
is yet intensely human, Medea smashes the instrument, crushing 
it with her hands, and then hurls it from her. Her triumph, 
however, is only momentary, and the arrival of the herald brings 
an order for her expulsion from the country. Then losing all 
self-control Medea breaks forth into a storm of bitter reproaches. 
Tf she has sinned, as indeed she has, he—Jason—is the cause and 
instigator of it all. She shouts aloud the miserable story of 
seduction and treachery to the assembled company and defies the 
naked sword with which Jason threatens to kill her. 

Kreusa again with kindly intention, but an utter want of tact, 
interposes a conciliatory word and thereby exposes herself to a 
furious attack from Medea. The wild, untamed passions of a 
primitive land are poured forth, and the gentle Greek maiden is 
very effectually silenced. 


GRILLPARZER’S FEMALE CHARACTERS 89 


*O snake!’ she cries, ‘shining silver snake, hiss no more, 
writhe not so pleasantly. Thou hast what thou didst want— 
my husband! Was it for this that thou didst coil thyself about 
my neck in such flattering embrace? Oh, had I but a dagger to 
pierce thee and thy father, the just king ! ’ 

They are savage, brutal words, but relieve her outraged sense of 
right and justice in a very human way. 

Up to this point her self-mastery had been almost complete— 
the awakened sense of her deep wrongs had been lulled to rest 
by the hope that Jason would ultimately return to her—her old 
savage nature had been cowed by her dread of the fulfilment of 
the curse and by her fears of embittering still more her Greek, 
civilised husband. 

But from this moment her desire for a terrible revenge fills 
her whole being. Shall she kill herself before Jason’s eyes as 
he passes with Kreusa in solemn, bridal procession ? Or shall she 
kill Kreusa at the threshold of her chamber and the children— 
Jason’s children—too ? 

Thus the purpose of this revenge takes root in her heart, 
and Gora encourages her mistress with stories of the horrible 
deaths which have overtaken the other members of the Argonaut 
band. Still there is the last supreme interview with Jason, and 
the hope that she will recall even yet his love, and there are her 
children who will surely cling to their mother, no matter what 
may be her fate. 

But in this interview Jason shows no kinder feelings for her, 
and meets her storm of bitter abuse at his faithlessness that he 
was but a youth when he wooed her. But she makes eloquent 
defiance of youth. 

‘Censure not that golden time,’ she says, ‘when the mind is 
rash, but the heart is kind. It were better for me if thou wert 
now what thou wast then! Come back a little way into that 
golden time when we tarried on the flowery banks of the Phasis. 
O Jason, has the glorious time gone for ever ? ’ 

But the appeal finds no echo in his breast, not even when she 
makes full and open confession of her sins—sins committed for 
his sake and instigated by him. } 

For a moment she will cast her pride to the dust and kneel 
to him, but no! that would be an outrage to her ancestors—to 
the Gods of Colchis. There is overwhelming despair in her heart 
that would have crushed her entirely, had not the remembrance 


90 GRILLPARZER’S FEMALE CHARACTERS 


of her children given her one gleam of comfort. They will be 
with her in her exile—she will still have something to love and 
tend. Thus the poor brain deludes itself, only to be most cruelly 
undeceived when the children are brought before her. They 
refuse to leave Kreusa—their bright, merry playfellow—to go 
with this sad-eyed, grief-stricken mother into the wilderness. They 
cannot, of course, realise the anguish of this mother’s heart, or the 
bitterness of this repeated cry: “My children, my own children 
turn from me! then let me die! My own children flee from me!’ 

A wild beast robbed of its young is not more terrible now 
than Medea in her plans for vengeance. She has recourse once 
more to her dark practices of sorcery. A parting gift is sent to 
Kreusa, which destroys her life and sets the palace in flames. 
The children come to spend a last hour with their mother, and 
she bids them sleep, watching by them till the moment comes 
when she will slay them. As she watches, she reviews her life 
as in a trance. 

‘When I tell myself the story of my life,’ she says, “it seems 
as if another spoke and I but listened, interrupting now and then 
to say: “Friend, that cannot be so. Can she whose heart is 
full of murder be that one too whom I see walking in her father’s 
land, so gentle, kind and innocent.” ’ . 

Then she recalls the happy days spent with her brother. Her 
father, too, was there, and he loved her always, but no! he cursed 
her once! And then the awful fulfilment of that curse drives her 
again to a frenzy of despair. Suddenly flames leap up into the 
air from the burning palace, and remind her that her vengeance 

is being executed, but only in part. 

| The children have gone a little way off to the columned 
entrance, and there she joins them, quickly reappearing with 
a blood-stained dagger in her left hand, and her right hand raised 
majestically to restrain Gora’s outburst of horror. It is no horror 
to her; the horror to her—what drove her to this awful deed— ~ 
was that her children should continue to live, despised because of 
their mother’s memory, hating that mother, growing up to man- 
hood with this taint in their blood—aliens and outcasts in this 
land of Greece. 

‘ Death appears to thee the worst of ills,’ she says in her final 
interview with Jason. 

‘I know an ill which is far worse than that, it is to live and 
be wholly miserable. I have saved the children from this.’ 


GRILLPARZER’S FEMALE CHARACTERS 91 


But there is no weak pity for herself. They were the innocent 
sufferers of their parents’ crimes. She must continue to live 
awaiting punishment from the Gods, and live with no malign 
satisfaction of having wreaked vengeance on Jason and his 
friends. 

‘My heart,’ she says, ‘is hidden from thee as it has ever 
been. Couldst thou but see it, thou wouldst perceive its pain 
heaving as a surging sea. I go forth into the world bearing with 
me this heavy load of grief. I go to Delphos to restore to the 
altar the Fleece which Phryxus stole away. ‘There I will ask the 
priests if they will sacrifice me to the Gods, or if they will send 
me into the far desert to endure my anguish in continued life.’ 
No, verily, there is no shirking of retribution for herself. Jason, 
with his fickle, selfish nature, will quickly find solace in new 
scenes and fresh faces, but for Medea there is confession of sin 
and death at the priest’s hands, or blackness of. despair, an awful 
solitude haunted with a vision of two little children murdered by 
their mother, of a husband whose love has turned into unspeak- 
able loathing, of anguish and death in a flaming palace; of a fair 
young girl, whose father laments her ‘eternally.’ The awful 
magnitude of her vengeance—its hideous completeness—are the 
outcome of the brutal savageness of her nature when it has cast 
off its veneer of Greek culture. 

But her splendid courage remains which formerly endured 
a father’s wrath and the severing of home-ties to be true to her 
lover, and which now chooses sternly an obedience to the decision 
of the priests at Delphos rather than a self-inflicted death, an 
easy exit from life which would have satisfied Greek morality. 

There is an admirable pride too, a deep consciousness of her 
high origin as she cries: ‘A dagger-thrust would bring relief, 
but not so, Medea shall not die through Medea.’ She is a savage 
to the end, according to the Greek code, but a savage with a lofty 
Spirit and an inborn sense of true nobility. 


SAPPHO 


From Medea, the barbarian, whose destructive personality 
brought ruin on all connected with her, to Sappho, the cultured 
Greek lady, whose presence irradiated beneficence and kindness, 
stretches a wide interval, a very gulf of separation, and yet not 
so wide as it appears at first sight. Beneath the Greek lady’s 


So 


= : as ee 
a 


a 
= 


92 GRILLPARZER’S FEMALE CHARACTERS 


calm demeanour and dignified reserve lurk the same hot passions 
as we noticed in Medea—an all-sacrificing love, a quick, jealous 
fury that when provoked would stab to death her rival, an over- 
whelming despair that finally leads to self-destruction. Sappho 
is distinguished in verse and song, and she is acclaimed the greatest 
poetess of Greece. When we think of the simple verse that Medea 
tried to sing, the few chords she tried to play on the lyre with such 
pitiful failure, and this finished art of Sappho, the difference 
between them widens again. It is a difference in degree of 
culture. Medea lays aside her veil and the distinctive dress of 
Colchis to wear the Greek apparel that pleased Jason. 

Sappho appears before us dressed sumptuously, riding in a 
chariot drawn by white horses, wearing the wreath of victory on 
her head, and holding in her hand a golden lyre. 

Sappho is already what Medea tried to be—a Greek lady of 
graceful presence and charm—so the one character supplements 
the other. But both are pre-eminently feminine; both are in- 
tensely modern in their morbid introspection and in the passionate 
struggles of their hearts. Medea strives to throw off her bar- 
barism in order to win Jason’s favour, and Sappho becomes a 
laggard in the cause of high learning as she tries to hold Phaon’s 
love. | 

In both the supreme purpose of their lives is to keep alive 
the flame of love in the hearts of their lovers who are totally un- 
fitted for them. They both testify that learning and brain 
culture take but a secondary part in a woman’s life—that it is 
the promptings of her heart to which she pays the most earnest 
heed. 

From the height of her exalted position at Olympia, where she 
has received the laurel wreath for the greatest achievements in 
poetry and song, she caught the look of adoration in Phaon’s 
eyes. She saw him as a splendid specimen of young manhood, 
full of muscular strength and daring, with beauty of form and 
fresh admiration of her genius. He had come to conquer in the 
Olympian games, and he won the love of the greatest lady in the 
land—a great possession surely for one low-born, and yet fraught 
with difficulties. 

There could be no real sympathy between them, for with 
the heart the brain did not lie, and from the very first Sappho’s 
lofty enthusiasms and high ideals proved irksome and unreal to 
him. And she, with the quick sensitiveness that a great love 


GRILLPARZER’S FEMALE CHARACTERS 93 


always brings, perceived this very soon. Her heart was as great 
as her brain, and her surrender of self to her chosen lover com- 
plete. The presence of the dear ones of her household, and their 
glad welcome on her return home, fret her somewhat in her eager 
desire to show him all the precious things of the home that will 
belong to them both now. And with what girlish delight she 
enters into this joint possession ! 

‘Look upon this spot,’ she cries. ‘In its simple, quiet beauty 
it seems to belong half to the earth and half to the meadows 
kissed by Lethe. In these grottoes, these rose-trees, this pleasant 
enclosure of columns, we will enjoy our lives spent together like 
immortals for whom there is no hunger, no appeasement, only 
the eternal, unchanging pleasure of enjoyment. What is mine, 
is also thine. When thou dost use my things, I feel for the first 
time how precious is their possession.’ 

This wonderful love has not come to her as her one great gift. 
She has so much besides ; but with her woman’s quick intuition 
she has realised that those other things are dwarfed to insigni- 
ficance in the presence of this all-powerful love. With her con- 
templative intelligence she has looked out upon life and has 
weighed intellectual supremacy and world-wide fame against 
love and the content that it brings, and has found them wanting. 

‘To live,’ she cries, ‘is the highest goal of life! ’ and ‘ to live ’ 
is now for Sappho ‘to love "—‘the unfruitful laurel wreath 
presses with cold weight upon the brow to whom it promised 
compensation for the sacrifices it exacts.’ 

But into this disparagement of earthly renown there creeps a 
new note of satisfaction that this laurel wreath is all-important 
in Pheon’s eyes, and that it shall be for him ‘starred with the 
blossoms of the past and the future.’ From her sad plaint to 
Melitta, her serving-maid, that she has so little to offer Phaon, as 
he stands there in the splendour of his youth with senses keenly 
alive, we should judge that the best part of her youth has gone— 
spent in the pursuit of her ambition. Not that she has left the 
girlish appreciation of the happiness of life far behind her. At 
this time she is probably twenty-five or twenty-six years old. 
She tells us that she was but a child when she took the little 
homeless Melitta into her arms, now thirteen years ago. During 
these years sorrows, and joys too, have left their deep imprint on 
her receptive heart and brain. 

‘I know,’ she says to Phaon, ‘how ingratitude burns, how 


94 GRILLPARZER’S FEMALE CHARACTERS 


faithlessness tortures. I have seen my friendship betrayed and 
my love too. I have learnt how to suffer and renounce.’ 

And again she says to Melitta :— 

‘Oh, that I might go back to childhood days when I played 
my golden lyre with no tormenting ene leugs of what life brings, 
but only a vague foreshadowing of it.’ 

The tragedy of her love is immeasurably intensified by this 
fact that she has tasted of the tree of knowledge and found it 
bitter, that she has reached the pinnacle of fame and looks back 
shudderingly along the dreary road she has come, that she 
believes with the most joyous exultation that she has at last 
found the goal of her happiness in the love of this young Greek 
athlete, whose love however is merely admiration of her intellect 
and gracious womanhood, and whose whole heart is quickly given 
to the gentle Melitta. 

‘IT loved you,’ he said to Sappho, ‘as one loves the Gods, as 
one loves goodness and beauty. Thou, Sappho, shouldst hold 
communion with the Immortals. One cannot with impunity 
forsake the banquet of the Gods to descend to human fellowship.’ 

The blow did not fall at once—the disillusionment began 
early. Phaon has never offered her a heart-whole devotion. 
Sappho has not therefore to bear like Medea the cruel desolation 
of love recalled, and yet she has perhaps the heavier load—-the 
shame of love scorned. 

Medea was wooed passionately by Jason only to prove the 
worthlessness of his love. 

Phaon does not deserve the same reproach. He followed 
where she led. It was she who disclosed to him her love, and so 
the gradual discovery that this love is not desired, that it is her 
slave Melitta to whom all his thoughts are turning, must indeed 
be very bitter. But at first she will not believe it. She has 
had her doubts of Phaon’s joy in her presence, but has invoked 
the help of the Goddess Aphrodite. She sees indeed the kiss — 
‘ he gave Melitta, the thought of it ‘is anguish a thousandfold.’ 
She has warned Phaon that it would go ill with her if she should 
ever lose his love. | 

‘There is only one thing,’ she says, ‘ that I could not in truth 
lose and that is thy love. Therefore, examine thyself. Thou 
dost not yet know the unfathomable depths of this passionate 


heart.’ 
Alas for Sappho at this moment of cruel awakening! But 


GRILLPARZER’S FEMALE CHARACTERS 95 


she will not give way to despair, and her admirable self-control 
restores her common-sense reasoning. 

‘Am I not foolish,’ she cries, ‘to torment myself with what 
may not exist ?’ 

She is a great poet, and as such must have been stirred by 
the passions and frailties of men. She has sung of the happiness 
of love as the best thing in the world, but she has often seen love 
betrayed and tricked out in vulgar guise—a cheap and sordid 
thing. She has seen the sensual passions of men called by its 
name, and has discerned what love means for a man and what 
for a woman. 

‘The love of a man must not be measured by the love of a 
woman,’ she says in soliloquy, as Phaon lies sleeping in the garden 
near her. ‘A man’s quick mind is ever changing, ever subject 
to the changing conditions of life whose path lies open to him 
flooded with the crimson dawn of hope. The quiet and peace 
of home life oppress him, and he goes forth to still his restless 
cravings in fierce activity, armed for victorious warfare with 
strength and courage, as with shield and sword. If he finds love 
in his path, he will undoubtedly stoop to pick this rare, sweet 
fiower. He looks at it a moment, rejoices at its beauty, then 
sticks it carelessly in his helmet with other trophies. He knows 
nothing of that deep, enduring passion that love works in the 
breast of a woman. The man loves, too, but in his heart there 
is room for love and much besides—much that seems unworthy 
to a woman to keep company with love—a jest here and there, 
unfettered pleasure, a kiss, no matter where he takes it.’ 

Thus in her wisdom, Sappho will accept these conditions with 
sweet reasonableness, content if Phaon will only continue to 
rejoice in her love for him, although he may in a lighter mood 
snatch a kiss from a pretty serving-maid. ‘Then comes the dream 
which makes Sappho realise that this lovely slave fills his thoughts 


to the entire exclusion of herself. She, Sappho, has not been able 


to give him this blessed contentment, this joy in life. With her 
he had ever been distrait, ill at ease, always conscious of the high 
honour she has done him. But with the dream-picture of Melitta 
before his eyes, his lips are unsealed, his heart is uplifted, and he 
speaks eloquently of the joy of living, of the wondrous beauty of 
the world. And Sappho who loves knows that this is Love’s 
awakening. But for her, the glory has departed, there is the 
blackness of despair creeping up, and she shivers involuntarily 


96 GRILLPARZER’S FEMALE CHARACTERS 


as she realises what life in a moment has become. But this de- 
spair soon gives place to a wrath that shakes her inmost being. 
To think that she, Sappho, the proud lady of Greece, at whose 
feet kings have laid their crowns, should have been thus scorned 
for the sake of her slave. 

Phaon is to her now ‘a liar,’ ‘one careless of his vows, empty 
of all shame.’ But she, too, is ‘a fool to have left the laurel- 
crowned heights of fame for these low valleys of human desire 
where crime and infidelity reign.’ 

This is the essentially modern element in Sappho which 
evokes all our sympathies. She has been given the great gift 
of genius, but together with it a woman’s heart that yearns for 
the quiet sanctity of home-life, for a husband’s love and little 
children. She has obeyed the call of genius, has trodden bravely 
its lonely heights, finding in the realisation of her poetic art the 
stimulus that her brain needs, but forgetting that her heart, too, 
would make its demands, but not along this path of genius. 
She has been satisfied with the affection and esteem of her friends, 
and has been kindly tolerant of their love. When she sees Phaon, 
and knows that her heart has gone forth to him, she awakes to 
the cruel consciousness that her genius has no abiding charm 
for him. 

With quick discernment she knows that she has attempted 
the impossible—to combine the life of high intellectual endeavour, 
of fellowship with the Gods, with human love and comradeship. 

‘He whom the Gods have chosen for their service,’ she says, 
‘must not consort with the citizens of this earth. The fate of 
men and of the Immortals is never mixed in the same cup. Thou 
-must choose one of these two worlds, and when thou hast chosen, 
know that there is no recall.’ ; 

And yet after arguing like a philosopher, she shows the next 
moment the very feminine desire to see this girl who has been 
preferred to the illustrious Sappho. But the jealousy that 
wounded love calls forth in her heart flames up at sight of her, 
and like Medea she would slay her rival but for the interposition 
of Phaon. Then Sappho, indeed, drinks to the dregs her cup 
of bitterness as she hears herself denounced with the cruellest 
barbs of scorn by the whilom lover in the presence of this slave- 
girl who has won his love. 

Now she knows how little her genius has meant to Phaon, 
and that a woman’s ‘highest adornment ’ in his eyes is ‘a quiet 


GRILLPARZER’S FEMALE CHARACTERS 97 


mind,’ thus quoting to Sappho’s disparagement her own de- 
scription of Melitta as ‘the maid with the quiet mind.’ For him 
‘the bright garland of innocence’ is of more value than * the laurel 
wreaths of fame.’ She has to bear, too, the vulgar cruelty that 
the sight of the dagger in her clenched hand has aroused in him. 
She hears, in Melitta’s presence, her appeals to Phaon’s love 
described as the snares and gins of witchcraft. Can we measure 
with feeble words the pain and grief that he leaves in this poor, 
stricken heart as he goes hence with Melitta by his side? Sorrow 
has its moments too sacred for human help, and surely this is 
such a time for Sappho. 

She goes forth into the night to her Gethsemane of agony, to 
wrestle with this pain, and drive it from her fevered senses. 

‘Oh, that I might sleep,’ she moans, ‘never to wake again— 
sleep until my very pulses slept unstirred by the fresh morning 

light.’ 
} Oh, the bitter thought that all this pain comes from the man 
she loves, the man “ whom she meant to raise to the very summit 
of humanity, about whose head she wished to weave a crown of 
all her splendid endeavours, success and renown.’ 

It is again her culture and disciplined nature that forbid any 
violent methods of revenge. Unlike Medea, she cannot plot 
wholesale destruction. She will send Melitta into bondage to the 
distant island of Chios; but she says and knows it, alas, to be 
the truth, that if Phaon’s love follows her to Chios, she will be 
immeasurably happier in her mean lot than is Sappho in her 
golden, loveless mansion. When her plan fails and she hears 
that Melitta has escaped with Phaon, her human passions have full 
sway over her, and she cries upon the Gods in helpless fury, and 
summons loudly her servants to pursue the fugitives. But when 
they have been overtaken and brought back, she trembles in her 
human weakness at sight of them, and cannot meet Phaon’s 
contemptuous gaze. But as they kneel before her, entreating 
her forgiveness, she starts at Phaon’s significant words: ‘ Give 
love to mortals and reverence to the Gods. Remember what 
thou dost and who thou art.’ He who has brought this great 
sorrow upon her gives her the word that recalls her to her illus- 
trious origin. ‘This is the thought that will make her strong in 
the midst of her weakness—that she belongs to the Gods, and 
they will uphold their own. 

So she goes forth to be alone once more, not to plan revenge, 

eae G 


98 GRILLPARZER’S FEMALE CHARACTERS 


but to hold deep, mysterious communion with them, to realise 
what their purpose is concerning her. 

Meanwhile her faithful servant Rhamnes sets before them with 
heart-felt eloquence the measure of Sappho’s goodness and wide- 
reaching influence. ‘Her name is written,’ he says to Phaon, 
‘in diamond letters on the stars, and it will only die out with the 
stars. In far distant lands, in distant times, Sappho’s song will 
echo from many lips, her name will live for ever. The joy that 
Melitta gives you is due to Sappho’s spirit with which she has 
imbued her.’ 

These splendid words of praise turn their thoughts from the 
angry, outraged Sappho to whom they have pleaded in vain, to 
the Sappho who had earlier filled their thoughts with such love 
and reverence. 

She has gone from them with Phaon’s words beating an 
incessant refrain in her brain: “Remember what thou dost 
and who thou art!’ Remembrance! It is oblivion she 
would seek—oblivion for all those joys of human love that 
she is now called upon to renounce. This renunciation is like 
the dissolution of soul and body, and in this death agony she 
stands rigid with staring eyes, leaning against a marble statue 
‘that is not more lifeless than she herself. Then she moves, 
plucking with restless fingers the flowers near her, and 
throwing them into the surging sea below. As they fall she 
follows their course with longing gaze. For several long hours 
she stays there, wrestling with these earthly desires, casting them 
from her, scourging herself with the lash of her own scorn that 
_ these things seem dearer to her than unswerving devotion to the 
will of the Gods, freeing herself from the clinging embrace of her 
human passions, mortifying them until the moment comes when 
she can look up with pale, tearless courage to the Gods to offer 
herself afresh to them. This is her sacrifice—a human heart. 
She thanks the Gods for their rich gifts—‘ the bow of song, the — 
full quiver of poetry.’ She thanks them before the flaming altar 
that she has been permitted * to sip of the sweet cup of life,’ and 
now that she has obeyed them, and set this cup far from her, she 
entreats that they will take her to dwell with them far away from 
this earth. In her exalted state she kisses Phaon on his brow 
in token of friendship and embraces Melitta as a mother her 
child. 

As she calls down a blessing from the Gods upon them, she 


GRILLPARZER’S FEMALE CHARACTERS 99 


throws herself from the high rock into the sea and is lost to them 
for ever. | 

‘She has returned to her own,’ cries Rhamnes—“‘ this earth 
was not her home.’ 

But her lot was cast here for a time, and the barbarian Medea 
who refused to take her own life, and awaited the will of the Gods 
in utterable loneliness and despair, seems to us a nobler woman 
than the cultured Greek lady Sappho. 

Sappho left the path the Gods had marked out for her to 
stray into the ‘ valleys of human desires,’ and finding herself an 
outcast she has * returned to her own.’ But she was born of this 
earth, and “her own’ were also the poor and needy of the island 
of Lesbos whom she had helped with beneficent hand and who 
still needed her. And that glorious gift of poetry with which she 
could have further blessed humanity for all ages—that has gone 
too. She has not the courage to bear her own personal grief ; 
she is not brave enough to live always in the shadow of a great 
sorrow in order to lighten the cares of others. She has returned ‘to 
her own,’ forgetting her debt to humanity in her desire to make 
atonement to the Gods. But her end fills us with deep regret 
that this splendid woman should have died a coward’s death. 


MELITTA 


In Melitta Grillparzer gives us his ideal of womanhood, probably 
the ideal of his youth. Scherer says of this character: ‘It is a 
portrait tenderly and delicately drawn such as the pure imagina- 
tion of youth may shyly picture the beloved.’ 

She is surely the most charming creation of Grillparzer’s pen. 
She has that best of gifts—an ever ready, tender sympathy. 
How sweetly she comforts Sappho in the midst of her sad thoughts 
that she has nothing to give in return for Phaon’s love. 

* Thou art good,’ she says, ‘ and hast ever been so and happi- 
ness is found beside thee.’ She owes everything to Sappho, and 
is quick to acknowledge it as she tells Phaon the sad tale of the 
ruin of her home in that distant land which she can only dimly 
remember, and the capture of herself and friends to be sold as 
slaves, and how Sappho took her into her service. 

‘She was good and kind to me,’ she says; ‘dried my tears 
and nursed me, and taught me all I know. Sometimes she grows 
angry, is passionate and bitter, but nearly always she is good 
and very kind.’ 


\ 
rn) 


—— 


100 GRILLPARZER’S FEMALE CHARACTERS 


So the maid prattles, little realising that it is she herself who 
will cause this dear mistress such deep sorrow, that even now 
her unspoken appeal to Phaon’s sympathy is tearing him away 
from his allegiance to Sappho. 

It is in no spirit of coquetry that she tries to pick the rose for 
him from the high branch overhead, thereby falling into his arms. 
But with his kiss upon her lips she realises that this is treachery 
to Sappho, and it is very terrible to her that her mistress has seen 
it, and coldly refuses to hear the stammering explanation she 
would give. 

She creeps away in bitter shame, for none of her servants, or 
rather ‘ children,’ as she calls them, has been dearer to Sappho 
than Melitta. 

For Sappho she is “the maiden of the quiet mind, with 
moderate talents and intellect of no high order, unskilled in art, 
but of a modest, unassuming, kindly temperament, timid at the 
approach of strangers, but ever faithful to those she calls her 
friends.’ 

‘Timid at the approach of strangers,’ it is thus that she has 
explained to herself Melitta’s painful bashfulness in Phaon’s 
presence. She cannot believe that this child Melitta, ‘a 
foolish child of shy mien, with eyes that ever seek the floor, with 
lips that tell of childish pranks, whose sluggish breast is stirred 
at times with the desire for play or the fear of punishment—and 
that is all,’ has won Phaon’s heart. 

But when this ‘bashful child’ appears to the summons of 
her mistress, Sappho is startled by her beauty. She has dressed 
herself with her wonted simplicity, but with a care that shows 
a desire to please, and to Sappho’s jealous eyes it is to gain fresh 
favour with Phaon. 

Melitta’s explanation is simple enough, though no doubt the 
thought that he would see her has increased her satisfaction in her 
pretty raiment. She has put the rose he gave her on her breast, 
and Kucharis, Sappho’s servant, has heard her singing as she made 
ready. But the joy in her heart she has not stopped to analyse, 
and she explains to Sappho her gala attire with frank innocence. 

‘ Thou hast often scolded me for wearing so seldom the clothes 
thou hast so generously given to me. I always saved them for 
days of special joy. Then it came to my mind that to-day was 
such a day of joy.’ 

Sappho’s scorn cannot provoke a confession of guilt. There is 


GRILLPARZER’S FEMALE CHARACTERS 101 


nothing to confess that she does not already know, except the 
gift of this rose at her breast which she refuses to give up because 
it is Phaon’s gift. Then the savage element in Sappho breaks 
forth, there is a gleam of steel, and only Phaon’s sudden appear- 
ance in answer to Melitta’s piercing cry for help saves her from 
the dagger thrust. To Melitta’s eager acknowledgment of guilt 
-—* the fault was mine—I spoke to her as a slave should not speak ’ 
—she answers with proud scorn :— 

‘Thou shalt not further burden thyself with guilt-there is 
enough already.’ 

Now that the crisis has come and Sappho bows under the lash 
of Phaon’s scorching reproaches, she will give up even her rose 
that the terrible breach may be healed, nay, she will give up life 
itself if she can thereby atone for it. Her gentle heart is sorely 
wounded. She is but a child of sixteen, and has ever lived under 
the care of this mistress. It is true that all her young heart has 
gone out to Phaon, but she is full of terrible misgivings and an 
anxious longing for forgiveness; even when she learns that 
Sappho is seeking to send her by force into bondage to the distant 
island of Chios, she cannot accept readily Phaon’s offer of de- 
liverance. He, the lover, will take her thither, but she shall go 
as his bride—beyond the grey sea in safety and happiness for 
them. Beneath the shade of the lime-trees in his parent’s dwell- 
ing, they will find rest and peace. Surely an alluring picture for 
this young maid, loving him as she does, and haunted with the 
dread of Sappho’s wrath. But she wavers trembling in her 
longing to go and her tender eagerness to have Sappho’s blessing 
and forgiveness beforehand. When the escape is frustrated, 
Melitta, with her heart torn in twain between duty and desire, 
must secretly have welcomed this further opportunity to recover 
Sappho’s favour. She kneels trembling before her and will not 
be repulsed. 

‘ Nay,’ she says, as Phaon would urge her to cease her pleading 
before this proud, unbending woman, ‘let me kneel as a child 
should before its mother, and if punishment seems right to her, 
then let her punish me.’ 

But there is no look of forgiveness, and for Melitta death 
itself is preferable to Sappho’s condemnation. 

She says: ‘All my actions, all my feelings I have ever 
examined in the light of her face. It has shown me the 
hideous wrong I have done her.’ 


102 GRILLPARZER’S FEMALE CHARACTERS 


Her sensitive heart is deeply wounded as she realises that 
_ her gain is Sappho’s loss, and that her glad hopes for the future 
bring despair to Sappho’s heart. She has that trustful love, that 
exalted admiration of a young girl for an older woman vastly her 
superior in intellect and culture. 

The kiss of forgiveness is at length given and the blessing 
comes too, but she will never forget the circumstances of it. 
She will never forget that it was through her that life on earth 
was robbed of all its sweetness for Sappho. For herself life will 
still bring happiness. She is young, and no matter how poignant 
her grief may be now, the future will bring its healing balm, 
and she will grow wise enough to realise that for Sappho ° earth 
was not home,’ that she has returned to the Immortals whose 
companion she is. 


BERTHA (Die Ahnfrau) 


In Bertha, Grillparzer portrays gentle maidenhood, and that his 
subject may stand out all the more delicately, he paints in a 
background of sombre, lurid hue. There is the ancestress who 
finds no quiet in the grave, and returns to haunt the home of the 
Borotins until the last member shall be overthrown. In the very 
entrance-hall hangs a rusty dagger, the instrument of the crime, 
and the Count grows old before his time in horrible anticipation 
of the fulfilment of the curse. There is, too, an aged serving- 
man, a faithful adherent of the family, but gloomy and fearful 
as the Count himself. 

Amid these sombre surroundings this young life develops— 
this gentle girl who has eternal spring in her heart because of her 
absolute trust in the goodness of heaven and in her lover Jaromir. 
So the sadness within the home, as yet but dimly understood, 
lends pathos to her glad consciousness that God is good and that 
Jaromir will never fail her. 

‘Why, father,’ she cries, as the Count sits lost in dark retro- 
spections one winter evening :— 

‘May is coming, lovely May, 
Green will be the woodland’s dress, 
Starred anew with flowers gay, 
Fanned by breezes’ soft caress.’ 


But the father heeds her not, sunk in deep reverie, careless of the 
girl who comforts him again with the assurance of her love. 


GRILLPARZER’S FEMALE CHARACTERS 103 


It is not, however, the haunting presence of this ancestress, 
nor the gloomy surroundings that gives the tragedy its full signi- 
ficance—it lies rather in the character of Bertha herself. Had 
she been strong in intellectual resources as Sappho, or invested 
with the powers of sorcery as Medea, she would have had some 
weapons with which to fight inexorable Fate. 

But from the first we shudder as we see the unequal conflict, 
and know at once that this dear weak girl, guarding with such 
frail courage her one possession—the love of Jaromir—will very 
easily be crushed. 

Heaven is pitiless, and strikes just at the moment of her 
highest happiness. Jaromir is in the castle as their guest, and 
her father has approved of her choice. In the gladness of her 
heart she is as a merry child, and playfully ties her scarf about 
Jaromir to prevent him running away from her. 

‘T have been told,’ she says, ‘ that there are men whose love 
not only burns, but burns away, who, like the butterflies, love 
_ the rose only because it is a sweet flower. Lest thou shouldst be 
such a butterfly, [ will bind thy wings.’ 

Very different is her mood a little later when the Count joins 
in the search for the robbers, when Jaromir disappears and she 
is left alone. It is a dark night and her shrinking spirit is filled 
with terrible forebodings. 

She reviews her happy childhood and careless youth, as 
Medea did in the hour of her sore trial, and wonders sadly that 
love brings her so little real joy, for even in the presence of her 
lover something always tells her that to love him is a crime, 
and yet the hours hold no happiness for her when he is 
absent. 

Then with horrible suddenness follows the disclosure of 
Jaromir’s true identity as chief of the robber band. Bertha is 
a child no more; she must decide between her lover and her 
father, and Jaromir does not appeal to her woman’s love in vain. 
She will fly with him into the darkness; she will leave all the 
precious things of her youth for the sake of this man she loves. 
But it is only in the presence of this love that she is strong. When 
she hears that the ancestress is again haunting the house and that 
this foretells misfortune or crime, she breaks forth into a bitter 
ery. 

‘Is it not enough,’ she cries, ‘ that misfortune should come, 
must crime come too ? ’ 


* 


104 GRILLPARZER’S FEMALE CHARACTERS 


But on being reminded by the old servant that everything 
lies in God’s hands, she quickly restrains her lament and begins 
to pray. 

It is a prayer full of passionate entreaty, showing her deep 
religious sense that Heaven will bring succour to those in distress. 

When the whole tragedy is revealed to her, that her father is 
dying from the blow dealt by her lover, who is in reality his son 
and hence her brother, she sinks under it into a state of madness, 
and the poor, unhinged brain is capable of only one idea to find 
in deep sleep oblivion from the hideous realities of life. Death 
comes to her speedily, and we are left with the picture of a young 
girl fair of form, with a very loving heart and a deep sense of 
spiritual things, but with a nature too sensitive to bear these 
cruel arrows of misfortune. 

She has no subtlety of character, no striking or opposing 
qualities of mind or temperament. She does not allure and repel 
like Medea; she is not a lofty ideal of womanhood as Sappho is. 
She is just a weak, loving girl who calls forth all our sympathy 
because of her helplessness to wrest from life what it refuses to 
give. 


RAHEL AND ESTHER 


In Rahel, the Jewess of Toledo, we find a combination of base 
sensuality and childish playfulness—a merry wantonness that 
leads astray the heart of a noble-minded king, that wrecks 
domestic peace and threatens the ruin of a nation. | 

She comes before us singing a careless lilt, defying the statutes 
of the state, her father’s entreaties, and her sister’s gentle re- 
minder, in her determination to see the King pass, and to disport 
herself in his presence. 

There is a certain mad recklessness in her that foretells her 
doom. She is a child of fickle chance, crushed under the chariot 
wheels of Fortune, and as such makes little claim to our pity, 
though we sorrow with the sister who loved her as her own 
child and who mourned for her exceedingly. 

She is fair of face, and by her feigned distress and clinging 
helplessness, easily appeals to the chivalrous nature of the King, 
who declares that “a man who shows fear is rightly despised, 
but a woman in her weakness is strong.’ She practises a finished 
coquetry which, apart from her beauty, would have made her 


GRILLPARZER’S FEMALE CHARACTERS 105 


dangerous to this King who is young and handsome himself, and 
has been educated for his high position with a Spartan-like 
simplicity and stern sense of duty. 

“TI have had little to do with women,’ he says, ‘but this one 
appears to me beautiful.’ 

His wife Eleanor, the Queen, does not offer any counter-attrac- 
tion. She is noble and wise and helps him to rule his kingdom 
well. She is accustomed to councils and warfare, and shares every- 
thing with the King; but she is so virtuous that he himself says 
laughingly that he would love her better, if she were not so im- 
maculate, if, instead of praise, she sometimes needed forgiveness. 
Her stern, self-contained nature is offended by Rahel’s extravagant 
fears and despair as she falls down before her imploring deliverance 
from the officers of the law. This hysterical, bejewelled Jewish 
maiden, with her flaunting desire to please, evokes only disgust 
and cold disdain in her breast. Her opulent beauty shocks her 
_ virtuous simplicity, and when Rahel passes on to throw herself 
at the King’s feet, who appears to pity her, she feels herself out- 
raged, and leaves the room with her ladies. The discovery of 
the Jewess in the garden-house later in the day, and the well- 
founded suspicion that the King is in the adjoining room deepens 
her resentment, and she returns to Toledo alone. 

But Rahel, in her delight at having found favour with the 
King, cares nothing for the Queen’s displeasure, and gives a loose 
rein to her flattered vanity, strutting about the room decked in 
the feathers and gold-embroidered cloak that she has found there. 
She is an impish child now, wiling away the hours of this enforced 
captivity with silly pranks and foolish jests. But when the King 
appears, she feigns extreme shyness; her coquetry flames forth 
again, and it becomes at once provocative as he tries to take 
from her the portrait of himself which she has appropriated. 
Her provocation goes still further when she leaves in its place 
her own portrait. From that moment her fascination over him 
wins surely its way. We see her again in the garden of his Castle 
Retiro, practising still further her arts to charm him—now 
appealing to his chivalrous protection, and now diverting him 
with her childish petulance and merry pranks, but always keeping 
him by her alluring beauty from the fulfilment of his duties. 

We see her also striving to ensnare Garceran, who threatens 
to disturb her wanton pleasures by recalling the King to the 
dangers that beset the kingdom. 


106 GRILLPARZER’S FEMALE CHARACTERS 


The King goes, and Rahel weeps bitterly, for “I loved him,’ 
she declares to Esther, ‘ really loved him.’ 

But this asseveration of love does not move us since it is 
prefaced by anxious inquiries as to whether Esther has brought 
for her the bracelet with the amethysts. 

We incline to the King’s opinion, though he spoke in jest: 
“She is a fool who contradicts herself with every breath she 
draws.’ 

Even her awful death scarcely evokes our sympathies. We 
are glad that the court was freed from such evil even at the price 
of brutal murder. The illegality of the act may horrify, but her 
unrestrained sensuality is still more revolting, and the King him- 
self realised it in the end : 

‘Evil lurked about her cheek, chin, and mouth,’ he says, 
‘and in her flashing eyes, and this poisoned and marred her 
beauty.’ 

Her one redeeming feature seems to be her affection for her 
sister Esther, and yet this is stained with sordid motives. 

Rahel herself gives us a portrait of Esther or rather an 
impression. She says :— 

‘Esther is prudent and far wiser than I, but when the 
spark of determination and resolve falls into her breast, she 
burst out in steady flames. If she were a man, she would be 
a hero.’ 3 

In these last words she has given us Esther’s salient character- 
istic. It is an unobtrusive heroism that shields the weak, com- 
forts the sorrow-stricken without thought of self. It is free from 
_ any pharisaical contempt for the sinner, and is full of a love that 
thinketh no evil. 

We can understand the fascination that Rahel exercised over 
the King, but that she could have been so dear to Esther is another 
proof of her irresistible charm, or perhaps of Esther’s untiring © 
loyalty and devotion. She has tended her as a mother, and 
regards her always as a merry, troublesome child, whose very 
waywardness endears her all the more to her. | 

She tells the King that ‘at home she is always full of jokes, 
and makes us laugh no matter how serious we must be.’ And 
again: “She is only a spoilt, wanton child.’ 

Regarding her sister as she does, her awful death comes as 
a terrible shock to her. 

‘I would have given my life,’ she says, ‘for my sister, or at 


GRILLPARZER’S FEMALE CHARACTERS 107 


least have died with her.’ There is a proud aloofness in her grief 
—she will not share it with the King—and also a stern self- 
accusation that she, as well as her father, sacrificed this young 
sister to gain the King’s protection and favour. 

We see in her, too, the dull apathy of sorrow, the patient 
resignation which is so marked a feature of the Jewish race. 

She does not call down the vengeance of Heaven in an eager 
desire for the destruction of her sister’s murderers. 

‘It is enough,’ she cries; ‘I do not wish this deed of blood 
to be multiplied.’ 

To her father she says :— 

‘See thy foes tremble! Does that delight thee ? but not 
me. My dead will not wake up again.’ 

The King condones the murder, and this rouses her to pro- 
nounce the curse that the beautiful Jewess shall haunt him in 
terrible form when danger threatens him in battle. 

But she quickly withdraws it in hopeless acceptance of the 
fact that all men have sinned, and who is she to cast a stone 2 
She will forgive even as she hopes to be forgiven. 

We notice the unselfish heroism again in the future she carves 
out for herself. ‘ 

There can be no sympathy between her and this money-loving, 
despicable old father; and yet as he grovels at her feet imploring 
protection against his foes, she assures him with soothing gentle- 
ness that she will tend him in his old age as a mother her child ; 
but at his death life for her, too, shall cease that she may be with 
Rahel once more. 

Thus it is the character of Esther that gives the keynote of 
tragedy to this piece. 

Her devoted love has been carelessly accepted by this beautiful 
young sister. It is always Rahel who has been courted and 
admired, whilst Esther has remained unobtrusively in the back- 
ground, only coming forward at the last to protect her sister’s 
dear memory. And yet it is the memory of Esther that lingers 
with us as she takes up again her appointed tasks in patient 
humility and quiet self-abnegation. 


WE would now consider the contrasting elements which Goethe’s 
and Schiller’s chief female characters offer to these chief female 
characters of Grillparzer. Sappho is the most conspicuous of all 


108 GRILLPARZER’S FEMALE CHARACTERS 


Grillparzer’s women just as Iphigenia is the most prominent 
of Goethe’s. 

But though both are Greek, and are imbued with a certain 
amount of the antique spirit, they afford a sharp contrast in 
character. 

Sappho, though Greek, is accursed with our modern spirit 
of morbid self-analysis, and what a German critic has called— 
* Die dem Leben nicht gewachsene Innerlichkeit.’ 

Iphigenia, on the other hand, is a more faithful reproduction 
of the classical model. 

She is a simple, virtuous maiden, who is content to do her 
duty without any pretensions to high learning, satisfied if she 
but makes others happy. She, too, is a priestess serving the altar 
of her goddess Diana, but she has an unswerving devotion to her, 
an unquestioning obedience to her will. 

There is no outburst of anger, no weak wailing against Fate, 
no hot passions such as shook Sappho to her inmost being when 
Fate proved unkind. Iphigenia maintains an even temper, a 
calm demeanour, a tender affection, which drives from Orestes 
the heated imaginings of his brain, and restores to him a sane 
outlook on life. She does not seek to wrest from fate the means 
for her own happiness. She will not resort to subterfuge, will 
not deceive the king, even though it would bring safety to herself 
and her dear ones. 

Sappho, in her disappointed hopes, turns her thoughts to 
unworthy plans for vengeance. In the bitterness of her wrath 
she would slay her rival. Her haughty spirit knows no yielding. 
But Iphigenia pleads humbly with the king to spare her brother’s 
life ; and though she longs to return to her country, she will not 
go without his blessing. The influence of this pure maiden is 
such that she effects the reconciliation and goes in peace. 

Iphigenia is an ideal type of womanhood, but Sappho appeals 
more to our sympathies and interest because of her hot passions — 
and very human impulses. Hero contrasts in the same way with 
Iphigenia as Sappho does, but she resembles her more closely 
as she shows a more even temperament—a less complex nature. 


Klarchen in HLgmont and Gretchen in Faust bear a strong 
resemblance to Melitta, but again there are wide divergences. 

They both have the simple, gentle nature of Melitta, and lead 
the same uneventful life in ordinary household concerns. But 


GRILLPARZER’S FEMALE CHARACTERS 109 


to them love brings deep tragedy, little real joy, and finally self- 
destruction. Melitta loses for a time the friendship and affection 
of her mistress because she loves Phaon. Klarchen and Gretchen 
lose all—friends, home, and all belief in goodness when they 
love, and in their despair they prefer death to continued life. 

Melitta has a more placid disposition, a more even mind, so that 
even if Phaon had returned to his allegiance to Sappho, she 
would not have suffered the same agony of grief that made life 
impossible for these other two. 

Bertha in The Ancestress has this same amiable lovableness, 
but reminds us still more forcibly of Beatrice in Schiller’s Braut 
von Messina. Mystery surrounds both of them. crooked Destiny 
eontrives that in both cases the lover is also the brother in dis- 
guise who has been separated from his sister, and does not know 
her as such. But Bertha lives in childlike happiness when once 
her father has consented to her betrothal. She has anxious 
moments because of the count’s deep despondency and the 
mysterious appearances of the ancestress. Beatrice lives in 
constant dread of disclosure. She dwells within convent walls 
ignorant of her origin, meeting by stealth her lover—‘a mys- 
terious horror has always invaded my shuddering heart,’ she 
says. Bertha destroys herself because she hates life when she 
loses her lover, but Beatrice, with a greater nobility of character, 
will offer herself up to death to avenge the brutal murder of her 
brother who was also her lover. When this vengeance is fulfilled 
without her, she remains to comfort the bereaved mother. 


This charm of ‘sweet innocence and gentleness, which is so 
lovingly portrayed in Melitta, is again discovered in Louise 
Miller in Schiller’s Cabale und Liebe. 

In all these characters—Klarchen, Gretchen, Bertha, Beatrice 
and Louise—deep tragedy lies. Their young lives are blasted 
by unhappiness in love, and in all this unhappiness brings an 
agony of despair, and finally a violent death. 

In the character of Melitta, too, tragedy lies, because she has 
been torn from her home and friends, and has been brought in 
bondage to an unknown land. She meets with much kindness at 
Sappho’s hands, but memory must always hold deep sadness for 
her. 

Louise Miller falls far short of this ideal of maidenhood which 
Grillparzer portrays in Melitta. She is of the same age—sixteen 


110 GRILLPARZER’S FEMALE CHARACTERS 


years—and shows at first the joy in life that Bertha did when love 
comes to her. She, too, compares the influence of love in her 
life with the rejuvenating effects of spring on the earth. But 
her character soon becomes forced and unnatural, and in her wild 
paroxysms of grief, she behaves like a fury, and gives the lie to 
the charms of pure maidenhood. 

In her interview with Lady Milford, who, like Sappho, wishes 
to see her rival face to face that she may take the measure of her 
charms, she talks with the wisdom of a philosopher. She is self- 
contained and ever ready with her answer to all the delusive 
sophistries of this woman of the world. We remember the bash- 
ful timidity of Melitta in the presence of the woman whose lover 
she has taken. We find no strained artificiality in Grillparzer’s 
portrait. 

Lady Milford is a further development of Rahel, the Jewess 
of Toledo, just as the latter in her turn is modelled on Blanche of 
Castille. She reveals the sensuality, the love of luxury and per- 
sonal adornment that Rahel shows, but it is tempered with a 
fellow-feeling for the sufferings of others, with a consideration, a 
certain hidden nobility of disposition which the Jewess entirely 
lacks. She, on the contrary, is totally oblivious to the sufferings 
she must bring the Queen and to the King’s dishonour. Lady 
Milford refuses the jewels which the Duke sends her, because 
they are the price of blood. She gives them to pay for bread for 
the poor and needy. Her influence over the Duke has often been 
for good. 

‘I have burst open prison doors,’ she says, “poured oil on 
troubled waters, brought sinners to judgment, and saved the lost 
cause of innocence.’ Rahel cannot offer any self-defence when 
she is called before the bar of justice. She used everything merely 
for self-gratification. Lady Milford refuses to renounce Ferdinand 
in the selfishness of her love, as Rahel refused to forego the 
favour of the King, but in the end she surrenders her claim 
when Luise brings her to a sense of her wrongdoing. 


From the study of these characters of Grillparzer we would 
unhesitatingly maintain his right to be recognised side by side 
with Shakespeare, and even on a higher plane than Goethe and 
Schiller, as an authentic oracle of truth in the great world of 
women. 

For modern womanhood Grillparzer’s claim is even greater 


GRILLPARZER’S FEMALE CHARACTERS lil 


than Shakespeare’s, for all his female characters testify to the 
fact that wisdom and intellect in women influenced him more 
than mere lovableness. 

In his poem Jugenderinnerungen, intellect is one of the necessary 
attributes of the lady of his choice, and although in Ottokar’s 
Glick und Ende the women are only episodes, the Queen says of 
Bertha: ‘She is not evil, only foolish and of weak brain.’ He 
has offered a new psychological study of them. His women fail 
in their struggle-with life, not because the conflict is too great, 
but because their morbid imaginations weaken their courage and 
fighting force. 

Grillparzer has not become a great national poet. There 
are limitations to his genius in the building up of a plot, but none 
to his understanding of womanhood. He has gauged the deepest 
recesses of a woman’s heart, and has given to the world a series 
of portraits whose essential features will remain true for all 
eternity. 


NORMAN EARTHWORKS NEAR ABERYSTWYTH 


BY 


FRANK S. WRIGHT 


H 


NORMAN EARTHWORKS NEAR 
ABERYSTWYTH 


BETWEEN Llanychaiarn and the sea the river Ystwyth forms 
a loop, on the concave western side of which stands a hill that 
rises to a height of 240 feet. Between this rising ground on the 
one bank, and the steeply sloping sides of Pen Dinas on the other, 
the river flows along a typical broad, flat-bottomed valley of 
partly glacial origin—an old sea gulf floored by boulder clay— 
and ice action is further exemplified by the gently rounded con- 
tours of the neighbouring hills. Near the church of St. Llwchaiarn, 
where the roadway along the river’s western bank has been cut 
into the slope of this hill, its formation is clearly seen to consist 
of boulder clay bearing pebbles in situ. In this locality are en- 
countered such names as °Tan-y-Castell ’—below the castle— 
‘'Tan-y-Castell bach,’ ‘ Tan-y-Castell Bridge,’ etc., seeming to 
denote the presence in the vicinity of some form of fortification, 
and a glance at the Ordnance Survey map of the district strengthens 
this conclusion with its brief legend, ‘Camp (remains of).’ 

On examination the earthwork so styled proves in reality 
to be a large and particularly well-preserved example of a Norman 
fortress of the mount and bailey type. Taking into considera- 
tion the difficulty of noting in a limited space of time all the 
details of these great structures, what follows purports to be a 
description of its present plan and of the site it occupies, and also 
oi those of the related fortifications of Castell Stradpeithyll and 
Castell Gwallter. 

First let us examine the hill at the summit of which it is 
placed, whence, as in the case of many early military works, a 
very comprehensive view of the surrounding country is obtained, 
and, in this case, of the sea also. Strategically considered the 
position is a strong one. 

To the east the ground slopes away rapidly towards the 
Ystwyth, and all along this side it is thickly wooded from base 
to summit. This slope is continued around to the north-west 


interrupted only by a ridge of gentler gradient continuing in a 
115 


116 NORMAN EARTHWORKS NEAR ABERYSTWYTH 


northerly direction. Towards the south-west also the slope is 
easier, and along it lies the original way up to the fortress, where 
an outcrop of rock is visible. Along the west the gradient is still 
less, and here also the ground is quite open. 

The local geographical conditions at the time of this castle’s 
erection must have been somewhat as follows :—The broad 
and level valley — narrowing, of course, upstream — must 
have been an almost impassable swamp, with the slopes 
wooded or otherwise according as they were or were not 
affected by water. Even at the present time a large amount 
of water is retained upon the level surface of the surrounding 
fields for long periods during winter. Protection from the sea 
is afforded this valley by a storm beach, through which the river 
formerly entered the sea somewhat to the south of its present 
outlet, the latter channel through the rock having been cut early 
in the nineteenth century. Its banks have been artificially 
strengthened, while the storm beach has grown up quite naturally 
along its seaward slope. This earlier outlet must have sometimes 
impeded the river’s egress, especially during flood time, when a 
great quantity of débris further choked it and caused its waters 
to overflow their channel. It is doubtful, however, whether tidal 
influence ever in human times extended far upstream in the 
Ystwyth. 

Im such conditions as those just described the human popu- 
lation must necessarily have been sparse, living a pastoral and 
agricultural life on the hill slopes, near the foot of which dense 
woodland conditions still prevailed. The upper limit of the 
woodland had gradually been pushed down by the pasturing of 
sheep on the hillsides. In any case the marsh afforded an admir- 
able natural defence along the north and east of the hill, and in 
the case of fortresses with such a small garrison as this type must 
have possessed, and situated in such a difficult country, any 
natural defence would be utilised. Access to the ford that 
exists just below, and to the east of the castell, was probably 
gained along the river bank, and the existence of a bridge is also 
mentioned in the earliest historical reference to the fortress. 

Apart from its easy defensibility, the choice of this site for 
erecting a fortification was probably determined by several factors, 
chief of which was its domination of the ancient South Road, 
which passes the church of St. Llwchaiarn, and crosses the river 
by means of the ford or bridge above located. A curious old 


NORMAN EARTHWORKS NEAR ABERYSTWYTH 117 


coloured map of ‘ Radnor, Brecknock, Cardigan and Caermarden,’ 
dated 1578, indicates plainly this ancient way passing through 
Llanychaiarn, * Llanrusted, Aberarthe,’ etc., with fords or bridges 
over, among others, the rivers Ystwyth and Wyre. From 
Llanychaiarn ford or bridge the road went northwards wa 
Rhydyfelin to Llanbadarn Fawr, and thence on to Llanfihangel 
(Castell Gwallter). Llanbadarn Fawr was the first important 
valley settlement near the mouth of the Rheidol, and has 
been an important place from remote times. In the Rheidol 
valley the conditions were similar to, or worse than, those pre- 
vailing in that of the Ystwyth, tidal influence extending further 
upstream, and turning the lower parts of this valley near the sea 
into a desolate marsh devoid of land vegetation. From this stood 
out as islands the hill where the ruins of the later stone castle still 
stand, and Buarth Mawr. The Rheidol had one of its outlets 
near Constitution Hill, arriving thither by way of the modern 
Plas Crug and Queen’s Road, Aberystwyth. The marsh was 
drained when the increasing size of the town spreading around 
the stone castle necessitated the turning of the Rheidol into its 
present channel. The date when this work was accomplished is 
unknown. Meanwhile the growing town, the nucleus around 
which the modern Aberystwyth has been built, was known as 
‘Llanbadarn Gaerog ’—the Fortified Llanbadarn—later assum- 
ing its present name, which meanwhile, presumably, had been 
transferred from the Tan-y-Bwlch castle to its stone successor 
at the mouth of the Rheidol. 

Just opposite St. Llwchaiarn churchyard is a private roadway, 
and some little distance along this a track, leading in a north- 
easterly direction, brings one to the old entry into the fortress, 
which is situated approximately at the southern end of the base- 
court. On either side of this entrance the vallum is piled up to 
form screens for its better protection, and this vallum, though 
much obliterated in places, can be traced following the edge of 
the bailey ; it eventually joins on to the counterscarp of that 
surrounding the fosse, just to the east and west of the inclined 
way into the motte. In plan the whole defences resemble the 
figure 8, the base-court forming its lower, and slightly larger, 
portion. Connection between the mount and the base-court is 
afforded by means of an inclined pathway through the rampart 
encircling the flat platform of the mount, this being a somewhat 
unusual feature. Communication between the inner citadel and 


— 


NORMAN EARTHWORKS NEAR ABERYSTWYTH 


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NORMAN EARTHWORKS NEAR ABERYSTWYTH 119 


the outer world was effected usually by means of a narrow bridge 
of wood. On either side of this entrance the ground slopes away, 
forming two depressions—that on the east being rather deep— 
both within the outer defences. Their function was probably 
protective, and both they and the screens, formed where the 
inclined path pierces the vallum surrounding the platform 
perhaps indicate that this pathway’s erection was coincident 
with that of the rest of the defences. Traces of the shallow fosse 
around the bailey are still discernible : it was formed by removing 
the soil used in erecting its rampart. The motte’s summit is 
somewhat ovoid in plan, and is enclosed by a very complete 
rampart: the fosse that surrounds its base is very well defined, 
especially on the west, the vallum forming this fosse becoming 
slighter on the east, where the gradient is steeper. 

Where the motte has been cut into recently, it is seen to 
consist of ‘made’ earth, which is not suitable for bearing heavy 
masonry, and there is no record of the discovery of any such here. 
Its keep was the usual wooden tower or * bretasche ’ common to 
forts of this type. | 

There is also a motte and bailey fortress above the village of 
Llanfihangel Geneu’r Glyn. 

This fortress is situated on practically flat ground, where an 
outcrop of rock seems to have been utilised in building its mount. 
The mount rises steeply from its fosse, in which are to be found 
traces of water: it is surrounded by a formidable and well- 
preserved rampart. A raised pathway across the fosse connects 
the south of the mount with the top of the rampart, but this may 
be of later date than the rest of the earthwork. All trace of the 
more perishable, because slighter, vallum once surrounding the 
platform of the motte has now disappeared. ‘The base-court is 
much lower than the motte; it is fairly level and somewhat 
steep-sided, and joins at its southern end the counterscarp of the 
vallum which surrounds the mount. At its northern end the 
slope is steep, and here may still be detected traces of the parapet 
that once defended its edge. Its eastern side is much mutilated, 
but probably the modern hedge that runs along it follows in the 
main the direction of the old defences. Along the west and 
outside the fortress, the ground appears to be scarped and levelled 
to some extent. Where the original way into the bailey was 
situated is not now apparent, but it probably faced towards the 
east. 


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Bia 72 00 


NORMAN EARTHWORKS NEAR ABERYSTWYTH 121 


On the southern bank of the Afon Peithyll—a tributary of 
the Clarach stream—about two miles east of Capel Dewi, is found 
a heavily moated mound. It is situated where the road from 
Goginan and the interior branches and leads on to Capel Bangor 
(south), and Bow Street and Llanfihangel (west, etc.). This 
mound is recorded as a tumulus on the map, and in the neighbour- 
hood the bridge that crosses the stream just outside, and to the 
north of its vallum, is known as ‘ Rhyd-y-Domen ’—the Ford of 
the Mound. The height of this hillock, its steepness, the rock 
outcrop made use of in its construction, and the great size and 
depth of its moat, are all inconsistent with its supposed sepulchral 
character. It is, in fact, the much mutilated site of Stradpeithyll 
castell, a Norman motte and bailey fortress. [After identifying 
this motte, I have found that it is briefly described in Mrs. Ella 
S. Armitage’s recent book on Norman fortresses. | 

The motte rises steeply from the fosse, but is much destroyed 
on the north-west by a large excavation, which is explained in 
the locality as having been made by a local doctor during his 
search for ‘the pot of gold that is hidden in the interior of the 
hillock.’ At the N.N.E. and near the floor of the fosse, the rock 
of which the mount is partly formed can be seen. The small size 
of the platform proves it to have been but a small fortress at any 
time. From the north along the east towards the south the 
vallum surrounding the fosse is very formidable and steep, having 
here been formed by excavation: from the north along the west 
towards the south the vallum is much worn, though well-defined. 
On the south and east its counterscarp forms the bank along the 
roadside. Just outside the vallum runs the Peithyll, and, in such 
a situation the moat probably contained water, indeed slight in- 
dications of its presence are still found there. Though all trace 
of the base-court has been destroyed, it must have existed to the 
east of the motte, this ground being almost level with the vallum 
surrounding the fosse. 

Following are given some approximate dimensions of the 
three earthworks, the measurements being in paces—approxi- 
mately yards—unless otherwise stated. 


Castell Aber-Ystwyth, Tan-y-Bwlch 


Motte : height above floor of fosse varies between 16-18 feet 
on the E. to 20 feet on the N.N.W. and W.; inside 


122 NORMAN EARTHWORKS NEAR ABERYSTWYTH 


"Ab HiL2 ANUS 
( pahosap UOljIOW PepOYys ) 
HIAMISASFOY IMIG TIIV~7 AVIN 


TVAKLIad a vals T13USW9 


“TNOUISINO? 


NORMAN EARTHWORKS NEAR ABERYSTWYTH 123 


height of its vallum from floor of platform from 4-7 
feet, its circumference being 100 paces. Diameter 
of fosse in places, 15 feet. Diameter of platform 

3 N. and S. 29 paces, E. and W. 27 paces. 

Bailey : length, N.E. and S.W. 40 paces; breadth, near in- 
clined way into motte. N.W. and 8.E. 36 paces. 
Height above ground level, 10-20 feet, the latter 
being reached at the S.E. 


Castell Gwallter (=Walter), Llanfihangel Geneu’r Glyn 


Motte: height from within fosse 23-25 feet—steep. Dia- 
meter of platform, 30-36 feet. Height of rampart 
from floor of fosse, 12-14 feet. 

Bailey : length, N. and 8. 130 feet ; height above ground level 

3 varying between, 6-12 feet. 


Castell Stradpeithyll, near Gallt Fadog 


Motte: circumference of base of motte, 63 paces; diameter 
platform, 22 feet. Height of motte above floor of 
fosse, 20 feet, of vallum to E. of motte 18-20 feet. 
Height of rampart above roadway, E. and S. of 
motte, from 6-4 feet. 


Bailey : destroyed. 


The motte and bailey type of fortress in Wales generally 
seems to belong to an early stage in the Normans’ attempts to 
consolidate their hold over a district : at such a stage the guarding 
of the lines of communication with some base is the-all-important 
matter, whether for advances, retreats, or reinforcements. They 
also had to be kept open for forwarding information to the base 
of operations, which was in Wales for some time situated at 
Ystrad Meurig. Proceeding thence northwards we find castles 
situated at Tan-y-Bwlch, Llanfihangel, and on the Afon Peithyll, 
near Capel Dewi. One line ran from north to south in 
Cardiganshire, and was guarded by two of the fortresses just 
mentioned, that of Stradpeithyll probably safeguarding the road 
from Goginan and the interior to Capel Bangor, Bow Street and 
Lianfihangel. Castell Gwallter is situated in a commanding 
position to the east of Llanfihangel Geneu’r Glyn, where the low- 
lying land narrowed (Llanfihangel to Bow Street), and it guarded 


124 NORMAN EARTHWORKS NEAR ABERYSTWYTH 


the line of communication from the north and north-east (now 
Taliesin, Tre’r ddol, etc., and on to Machynlleth), towards Aberyst- 
wyth. The Tan-y-Bwlch castle described above seemingly 
guarded the narrow neck through which the Ystwyth passes, and 
the crucial point where the road crossed the river on its way 
southward over the moorland downs towards Llanrhystyd. The 
positions of these two fortresses command extensive views both 
of the lines of communication and of the neighbouring hills, and 
they seem to be closely related to these ways. They doubtless 
served as outposts and stations for the collecting and forwarding 
of news to the base. 

The following is a brief summary of the history of these 
fortresses, so far as itis known. The first historical allusion to the 
Tan-y-Bwlch castle is found in the Rolls edition of the Brut y 
Tywysogion, where mention is made of a hill and castle, the 
location and description of which agree in all essentials with 
those described at the commencement of this account. The 
existence of a bridge across the Ystwyth is also noted there. This 
fortress was built in 1110 by Gilbert Fitz Richard (Strongbow), 
the first Norman lord of Ceredigion, to whom had been granted 
by Henry I. the lands of the native chieftain, Cadwgan ab Bleddyn : 
it was one of several castles built by Gilbert to confirm his hold 
over his lands. Those of Stradpeithyll and Llanfihangel formed 
part of the scheme. 

In 1113 the country near Aberystwyth was devastated by 
Grufiydd, son of Rhys, who surrounded and overpowered the 
castle of Razo [variously called Razon, Rawlf and Ralph], Gilbert’s 
steward, which was situated at Ystrad Peithyll, burnt it and slew 
its garrison. Razo himself, however, escaped to Aberystwyth 
castle. Gruffydd’s army encamped for that night at ‘ Glasgrug, 
about a mile from the church of St. Padarn.’ On the following - 
morning they seem to have made a ‘demonstration’ before 
Aberystwyth castle, but Razo, its castellan, ‘ moved with sorrow 
for his men and his loss, and trembling with fear, sent messengers 
by night to the neighbouring castle of Ystrad Meurig,’ imploring 
the garrison of that place to come to his aid. The Brut gives 
a graphic description of the assault of the castle, which was 
unsuccessful. 

In 1135 [according to the Brut—the Annales Cambriae says 
1136], Owain and Cadwalader, the sons of Gruffydd, son of 
Cynan, advanced into Ceredgion with a large army: they 


NORMAN EARTHWORKS NEAR ABERYSTWYTH = 125 


attacked and burnt the castle of Walter de Bec at Llanfihangel, 
and next turned their attention to that at Aberystwyth, which 
they burnt to the ground. After committing other depredations 
‘ they returned home.’ 

Aberystwyth castle seems to have been subsequently rebuilt, 
and was again destroyed in 1143 at Owain Gwynedd’s command, 
he having interfered in a domestic quarrel in which Cadwalader, 
his brother, bore no very heroic part. This terminates the history 
of the Tan-y-Bwlch fortress. 

The earthwork at Tan-y-Bwlch is situated on the estate of 
M. L. Vaughan-Davies, Esq., M.P. for Cardiganshire, by whose 
courtesy the writer was enabled to pay several visits to the site. 


LITERATURE 


A History of Wales. J. E. Lloyd, M.A. 

Aberystwyth and its Court Leet. G. Eyre Evans. 

The N.U.T. Souvenir. Articles by H. J. Fleure, E. A. Lewis and 
Evan Evans. Aberystwyth, 1911. 

Early Norman Casiles of the British Isles. Ella S. Armitage. 

The Dragon, February 1911. Article by F. S. Wright. 


A LIST OF RESEARCH PUBLICATIONS FOR 
THE SESSION 1910-11 


BY MEMBERS OF THE COLLEGE STAFF 


A Handbook to Aberystwyth and the district was published 
in connection with the Conference of the National Union of 
Teachers held at Aberystwyth, Easter 1911. This handbook 
contained numerous articles by members of the College, includ- 
ing :— 

The Geology and Physical Geography of Cardiganshire. O. T. 

Beones, MAA. -.Se:, EGS. 
The Human Geography of Cardiganshire. H. J. Fleure, D.Sc., 
F.R.G:S. 
The Land Flora of Cardiganshire. BR. H. Yapp, M.A., F.L.S. 
The Marine Life of Cardiganshire Shores. C. L. Walton, H. J, 
Fleure, F. S. Wright. 
The Castle of Aberystwyth. HK. A. Lewis, D.Sc., M.A. 


In addition to these articles containing results of research, there 
were others by Sir Edward Anwyl and C. Bryner Jones, M.Sc. 
_ Other researches published during the season are :— 


Catalogue of the Persian, Turkish, Hindistini, and Pushti MSS. 
of the Bodleian Lnbrary, Oxford: Part of Vol. II. H. Ethé, 
M.A. (Hon.), Ph. D. 

Sir EK. Anwyl, M.A. :— 

Children in Celtic Countries; Communion with Deity (in Celtic 
religion). — Hastings’ Encyclopedia of Religion and Ethics, 
vol, ili. 

Radnorshire Place Names.—Arch. Camb., July 1911. 

Nodweddion Barddomaeth Dafydd ap Gwilym.—Geninen, J uly 
1911. 


Foster Watson, M.A., has acted as sub-editor of the Cyclopedia 
of Education, and has contributed a number of articles to it. 
He has also published :— 


The Educational System of Wales.—Dictionnaire de la Pedagogie. 
The Last of the Old Song Schools—Training College Record, 
Nov. 1910. 


127 


128 A LIST OF RESEARCH PUBLICATIONS 


Dr. Joseph Webbe and Language Teaching, 1622, in Modern Lan- 
guage Notes, published by Johns Hopkins University, Balti- 
more, U.S.A., Feb. 1911. 
Scholars and Scholarship in England, 1600-1650.—Cambridge 
History of English Literature, vol. vii. 
Religious Refugees and English Education.—Proc. Huguenot Society, 
1911. 
Articles on Sir Joshua Fitch, Prof. 8. S. Laurie, and Dr. J. H. 
Lupton, in the Dictionary of National Biography (Supplement). 
Miss L. Winstanley, M.A. :-— 
An Edition of Shelley’s Defence of Poetry and Browning’s Essay on 
Shelley. Belles Lettres Series: Heath and Co., Boston. 
A. B. Thomas, M.A., Docteur de l’Université de Lyon :-— 
Moore en France. Thése presentée al Université de Lyon. Paris: 
Champion, 1911. 
J. J. Sudborough, D.Sc., and 8. H. Beard :— 
Additive Compounds of s-Trinitrobenzene with Arylamines ; combina- 
tion as affected by the constitution of the Arylamines.—Trans. 
Chem. Soc., 1910. 
J.J. Sudborough, D.Sc., and J. Thomas, M.A., B.Sc. (2 papers.) :— 
The Addition of Bromine to Unsaturated Compounds.—Trans. Chem. 
Soce LOO: 
T. Campbell James, M.A., B.Sc.— 
The Action of Bases on « B Dibromobutyric Acid and the Esters.— 
Trans. Chem. Soc., 1910. 
B Chlorocennamic ee —T rans. Chem. Soc., 1911. 
O. T. Jones, M.A., D.Sc., F.G.8.— 
Prehistoric Coanceiices in South Wales (by T. C. Cantrill and 
O. T. Jones).—Arch. Cam., June 1911. | 
F.S. Wright :— 
- Preliminary Articles on Local Earthworks, based upon LHxact 
Surveys.—U.C. W. Magazine. | 
H. J. Fleure, D.Sc., and T. C. James, M.A., D.Se.:— 
Interim Report on the Ethnographical Survey of Wales.—Proc. Brit. 
Assoc., 1910. 
The Agricultural Department’s Staff— 
Journal of the Agricultural Department U.C. W., Aberystwyth. 
D. D. Williams, M.R.A.S., F.H.A.S.— 
Report on Spraying Tegra conducted by the University College 
of Wales, Agriculiural Department. 


ee ee ee te a —— — 
a Re eS a aT 


Pimde bpp IIe 


non 


qh 
t 

CO Me Pie 
as 4 

i ay 


Hl 
i) 
i 


ABERYSTWYTH STUDIES 


BY 


MEMBERS OF THE UNIVERSITY 
COLLEGE OF WALES 


Nid byd, byd heb wybodaeth 


VOLUME TWO 


ABERYSTWYTH 
PUBLISHED AT THE COLLEGE 
1914 


in DY 
Nous 


yi 


Printed by T. and A. ConstTaBLE, Printers to His Majesty 
at the Edinburgh University Press 


CONTENTS 


1. THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES. By Grorce A. Woop, M.A. 


2, SOME ANCIENT DEFENSIVE EARTHWORKS NEAR 
ABERYSTWYTH. By F. 8S. Wricutr 


3. WHITMAN AND VERHAEREN. By P. M. Jonss, B.A. 


PAGE 


1 


45 


(Al 


— 


ne a mt 


a 


oe titel 
SI FSS OES 


ESS IEPA ESOS AS 
= Sa lie = 1 


i bo ial ISSA 
iS UM 


‘ © ° 
; 29 JAN 23 


} 1A" RP A 

# N N 1 J ud L 
We Kae ape ole 

Pd SOR eye 


ie 
mae A TREE IEENC MIELE 


Tuts volume of Studies is issued under 
the auspices of the Senate of the University 
College of Wales, and with the cordial 
assent of the Council. It is proposed to 
issue new volumes at least once a session. 
They will embody the fruit of research 
carried out by members of the Teaching 
Staff and Graduates of the College. 


THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 


(Continued from page 62 Vol. I.) 


REPETITION OF RIDDLE 31, AND BLACKBURN’s THEORY! CON- 
CERNING RIDDLE 61 


RIDDLE 31 is interesting by reason of its second appearance 
immediately before that known as the sixty-first. There are some 
slight differences between the two versions : in the second version 
‘gemylted ’ replaces the ‘ gebysgad ’ of line 3, ‘modge miltsum ’ 
appears instead of ‘monige mid miltse,’ and ‘swa ic mongum 
sceal ’ instead of “zr ic monnum sceal of line 8. The existence 
of these variations, and the fact that its reappearance is made 
in quite another part of the MS. strongly suggests that the poem 
gained a second entrance through the Exeter scribe having 
received it twice, in differing versions, from different MSS. 

The second version is separated from the first sixty riddles 
by eight short poems of a miscellaneous character. Together 
with riddle 61, it is divided from riddles 62-95 by the poems 
usually known as the ‘ Husband’s Message ’ and the ‘ Ruin.’ 

In Thorpe’s Codex these isolated riddles and the ‘ Husband’s 
Message ’ were treated as consisting of three riddles and a ‘ Frag- 
ment,’ but Grein, perceiving the manifest continuity of the third 
‘riddle’ and the ‘Fragment,’ arranged them in his Bibliothek 
(1858) as one poem, which he called * Botschaft des Gemahls an 
Seine Frau.’ 

In all probability Thorpe’s second riddle (7.e. riddle 61) as 
well as the third is in reality not a riddle at all, but a portion of 
the ‘ Message,’ in which the strip of wood on which runes are 
craved describes and introduces itself before delivering its 
message. There is a continuity no less remarkable and apparent 
between the concluding lines of the 61st riddle and the opening 
lines of the “Husband’s Message,’ than between Thorpe’s third 
riddle and his ‘ Fragment.’ 


1 F. A. Blackburn in Journal of Germanic Philology, vol. iii. No. 1. 
VOL. II. A 


2 THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 


The knife and man’s skill have so arranged, says riddle 61 :— 


. - . paet ic wid pe sceolde 
For unc anum twam erend sprece 
Abeodan bealdlice swa hit beorna ma 
Uncre wordcewidas widdor ne meenden 
(lines 14-17). 


To this succeed quite naturally the opening lines of the first 
portion of the “ Husband’s Message’ (originally reckoned by 
Thorpe as the third riddle of this group) :— 


Nu ic on-sundran pe secgan wille 


Then, with that delay of the narrative which is so characteristic 
of Anglo-Saxon poetry, the letter turns once again to speak of its 
origin, and to describe how it is ‘ of the tree-kind,’ how it grew 
up ‘washed by salt streams,’ and how it can deliver a message 
“ymb mod-lufan mines frean.’ Succeeding this we have the 
second portion of the *‘ Message’ (styled by Thorpe ‘a fragment ’)’ 
which conveys the entreaty that the promises of earlier days 
should be remembered, and as an earnest of good faith gives the 
secret signs :-— 


S and R together, EA, W and M. 


If this explanation of 61 be accepted, then a reasonable hypothesis 
can be framed to account for the reappearance of 31 as the first 
riddle of this isolated pair: ‘As both riddle and letter are 
represented as uttered by a “ beam,” it is probable that some one 
took the whole for a single composition, and wrote it out as such. 
If, then, the scribe of the Exeter MS. found it thus in some other 
MS. than that of the riddles it is not strange that he copied it 
here and thus unwittingly repeated the riddle.’ 


RIDDLE 32 
In this riddle a ‘ monster ’ of strange build and mien is described :— 


wiht wes no werum on gemonge 
Sio hefde westum wundorlicran 
(lines 4 and 5). 


It has feet which sing, but do not walk; this plurality of ‘ feet ’ 
with the fact that they ‘sing ’ seems to suggest some such musical 
instrument as the bagpipes. 


THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 3 


If this be the answer, the comparison with a singing bird 
which the terms of the riddle imply is strikingly borne out. The 
mouthpiece is the bill of the bird, the player fingers the neck, 
the windbag is the body, and the pipes projecting downwards, the 
legs. 

The twofold function of its music is portrayed :— 


(1) fedegeorn fremman onginne 
(2) oft 7 gelome eorlum on gemonge 
sited et symble. 


RIDDLE 33 


A RIDDLE which bears some slight resemblance to the thirteenth 
Aenigma of Symposius. The ‘ship’ is, however, somewhat 
differently treated in the Anglo-Saxon poem, and this seems to 
preclude its having any direct relation to the Latin enigma. 
The riddle touches the Latin only slightly and doubtfully. It is 
improbable, as Prehn! seems to suggest, that the ‘filia’ in the 
epithet ‘formosae filia silvae,’ has suggested the ascription of 
limbs to the ship. Such ‘ korperteile ’’ form part of a character- 
istic mode of presenting the riddle subject. They appear in 
several other riddles. 

There is certainly some likeness in fundamental idea between 
the ‘ feror ’ of Symposius, and the Anglo-Saxon line :— 


Grindan wid greote, giellende faran, 


and also between ‘velox’ and the ‘swide feran,’ but this is 
scarcely sufficient to establish a direct relation between the two 
poems, especially in view of the fact that while the ‘ship’ of 
Symposius is filled with men, that of the Saxon riddle 


fere foddurwelan, folcsipe dreoge 


Prehn’s idea that ‘faran ofer feldas’ seems to suggest tracts 
of inundated country appears unwarranted and unnecessary. 
‘Feldas ’ might equally well be applied to low-lying, far-stretching 
foreshore which is covered by the tide. The ship would come to 
land on the flood tide ; the phrase * grindan wid greot’ is much 
more in keeping with the sea-shore than with more peaceful 
inland inundated tracts. 


1 Prehn, Komposition und Quellen, p. 202, 


4 | THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 


RIDDLE 34 


THE ‘ iceberg ’ is the subject of this riddle. The poem is marked 
by distinctively northern imagery, and is full of suggestions of 
turbulence and storm. 

The iceberg approaches like a Viking raider, shrieking out 
gruesomely ere his ship touches land—nothing can withstand its 
fierce onset :— 


. - . bordweallas grof 
heard j hidende... 


The true riddle element in the poem is to be found in lines 
9, 10, 11. Here the poet is using the old ice problem which 
appears in Symposius (‘ Glacies ’), Tatwine (‘de nive grandine et 
glacie ’), in the Flores of Bede + (‘ quid est. quod mater me genuit 
et mox eadem gignetur a me ? ’) and in humbler folk-riddle form 
in the Holme MS. : 2— 


‘I my mother brought me forth when shortly I her daughter 
brought me forth again.’ (Water that is made ice). 


In this 34th riddle we seem to have an example of a 
highly descriptive and poetical introduction specially written to 
decorate and extend a widespread and well-known puzzle. In 
this case it is quite easy to detach the more poetic prologue, and 
to see how line 8 has been introduced to accommodate what is in 
reality a quoted riddle. 


RIDDLE 35 


Tuts riddle forms a pleasant simple poem, with imagery of the 
gentle type. It speaks of the feeding of cattle and of the plants 
which the rake leaves firmly rooted in order that they may 


beorhtne blican blowan J growan. 


Yet there is a suggestion of the old rugged strength in line 4— 
the rake is a ‘plunderer’ who ‘hiped holdlice,’ gathering as its 
‘booty ’ the stalks that are not firm. 

Prehn ® asserts that Symposius’s sixtieth enigma ‘de serra ’ is 
‘die Mutter der vorliegenden Bearbeitung von Rechen.’ The 


1 Migne, Patrologia Latina, vol. xc., p. 539, ff. 
2 Harleian MS., 1960. 
% Prehn, Komposition und Quellen, p. 206. 


THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 5 


only certain point of resemblance between the two riddles seems 
to be found in :— 


Dentibus innumeris sum toto corpore plena, 


and the Anglo-Saxon :— 
hafasd fela topa. 


This is scarcely sufficient to prove the dependence of one riddle 
upon the other. The coincidence may easily be due to the 
fact that ‘teeth’ are the most striking characteristic of each 
implement, and therefore could scarcely miss the notice of any 
one taking either subject as a riddle theme. 


RIDDLE 36 


THERE are two versions of this riddle, one in West-Saxon in the 
Exeter Book, and one occurring after the Latin riddles of 
Symposius and Aldhelm at the end of a MS. which is in the uni- 
versity library at Leyden ; this latter is written in a continental 
hand of the ninth century, and is in the Northumbrian dialect 
The two versions display some slight variations : the West-Saxon 

‘ seridep ’ appears in place of the Northumbrian ‘ scelfees’ in line 
7; In line 11 we have the West-Saxon 


Wile mec mon hwepre sepeah wide ofer eorpan, 


for the Northumbrian 


Uil mec hudre sue deh uide ofer 3orda. 


The greatest difference, however, lies in the ‘ Schluss-formeln.’ 
These are entirely different. Perhaps the ‘Schluss-formel ’ is 
not an organic portion of the riddle and might have been added 
in order to make a scholarly enigma fall into line with the ways 
of the folk-riddle. 

The riddle bears a remarkable likeness to Aldhelm’s seven- 
lined enigma, ‘ De lorica.’ The ideas upon which the first eight 
lines of the Anglo-Saxon riddle are built are to be found in the 


first three lines of Aldhelm’s riddle. Compared with the Latin, 


the Saxon rendering is marked by a decorative profusion of 
imagery and a lingering upon ideas which seem specially to appeal 
to the Teutonic temper. As is shown both by this and by another 
riddle, the resounding loom seemed to the mind of the Saxon 


6 THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 


to have affinities with the hard strife of warfare, and its clash 
and stir is finely portrayed in the hurried rhythm of the lines :— 


Wundene me ne beod wefle, ne ic wearp hafu 
ne purh preata gepreecu pred me ne hlimmesd 
ne aet me, hrutende, hrisil scripes, 

ne mec ohwonan sceal amas cnyssan. 


Aldhelm presents the same idea directly and tersely in the 
somewhat unemotional 


Licia nulla trahunt nec garrula fila resultant. E 


The Saxon version is enriched by an idea quite unrepresented 
m Aldhelm :— 


Wyrmas nec ne aweefan wyrda creeftum. 


The silkworms weave by the skill given to them by the weirds— 
this takes us far back into Teutonic paganism. 


RIDDLE 37 


A RIDDLE which presents several difficulties and obscurities. It 
is not at all clear that we have not here two riddles, for the ‘Saga 
hweet hio were’ of line 8 seems to mark a definite conclusion. 
There are two objections, however, which can be urged against 
considering the portion following line 8 as a separate riddle :— 


1. There is no subject to the verb ‘for’ in line 9; in the 
opening lines of a riddle we almost expect some such 
preliminary designation of the subject as ‘the won- 
drous thing,’ or ‘the strange being,’ or a reference to 


CxS ? 


it as ‘ic.’ Here, however, an unexpressed ‘it’ is 


evidently the subject, and very probably refers to the 


queer being mentioned in the previous six lines. 

2. Three of the beings to whom ‘it’ is likened in lines 9-12 
are also mentioned in lines 1-8. This seems to suggest 
continuity. 


Grein! supposed that ‘ flodwegas’ (line 9) was an error for 
‘foldwegas ’; though not warranted by the MS., the change was 
made possibly with the idea of removing one of the strongest 
objections against the unity of the passage as it now stands. 


1 Grein, Bibliothek der ags : Poeste, Gottingen (1857). 


hk 
= + 


THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 7 


Dietrich suggested, as the solution of the first eight lines, 


‘the pregnant sow,’ while Trautmann has proposed ‘ ship ’ as the 


solution of the supposed second riddle; the best suggestion, 
however, comes from Tupper, who, basing his conjecture on the 
fact that ‘porcus’ may mean both ‘sow’ and ‘dolphin,’ sup- 
poses ‘ porcus ’ in this double sense to be the true solution. 

Certainly ‘pregnant sow’ as the solution of lines 1-8 has 
much to commend it. It is a very widespread motive in riddle 
literature. The 32nd old Norse riddle! in the Hervara Saga is 
similar, and has as its solution, ‘the sow with nine young’ ; 
Ohlert 2 finds evidence of the same riddle in Hesiod ; the Randle 
Holme ® riddle collection contains one on the same theme con- 
cerning a being who has ‘ 10 tayls, 40 feet, 10 heads and four score 
nails.’ Though Prehn thinks that the Saxon riddle is composed 
from elements suggested by the enigmas of Symposius and 
Aldhelm,* it seems most likely that we have in reality a folk- 
puzzle. It is marked as such by its bare and artless presentation, 
as well as by its somewhat formal opening. If Trautmann’s 
interpretation of the single letters introduced be correct, it is a 
‘ Volksratsel’ slightly modified by the strange introduction of 
learned material: ‘homo mulier,’ ‘equus,’ the Latin equivalent 
of the words which they follow. 

There would seem to be a discrepancy in the terms of the riddle. 
Surely there would be as many ears as eyes; only two, however, 
are mentioned, whereas, strangely enough, the true number of 
eyes is given. Hither the scribe has committed a gross blunder 
in copying, or the riddle is still outwitting us. 


_ RIDDLE 38 


DreTRICH’S first solution, “ Wagon,’ ® satisfies very ingeniously 
all the statements in the poem with the exception of that in the 
last line. His second solution, ‘ blacksmith’s bellows,’ ® seems 
completely successful, and is supported by the occurrence of 
other riddles on the same theme which contain some of the chief 


1 Heusler, ‘ Die Altnordischen Ratsel,’ Zeitschrift des Vereins fiir Volkskunde, 
Heft ii. 1901. 

2 Ohlert, Rdtsel und Gesellschaftspiele der alten Griechen. Berlin, 1886. 

3 Harleian MS., 1960. | Se ae 

4 Aldhelm’s ‘ De scrofa pregnante,’ also ‘De puerpera geminos enixa’ ; 
Symposius’ *‘ Mulier quae geminos parit.’ 

Bed A, Xi. . 6 Ibid, xii. 


8 THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 


elements which make up the Anglo-Saxon riddle, e.g. the second 
line in Aldhelm’s ‘ De poliadis ’ :— 

Non est vita mihi cum sint spiracula vitae ; 
and the second and third lines of Symposius’ ‘ De follis * :— 


Non ego continuo morior, dum spiritus exit 
Nam redit assidue, quamvis et saepe recedat 


express the main puzzle elements of the Anglo-Saxon riddle. 
Corresponding with Aldhelm’s line we have the phrase * fleah 
purh his eage,’ while the idea of the continual return of life-breath 
to the dying one, expressed by Symposius, is contained in the 
lines :— 
-. - him eft cymed 
bot in bosme, bled bip arzered. 


In spite of this parallelism it is doubtful whether the Saxon 
riddle is directly dependent on the Latin riddles. In the last line 
of Aldhelm’s enigma we have a note of impatience which, had 
Aldhelm’s enigma been used, the Saxon would be most likely to 
adopt and represent as submission to a sad fate :— 


Gratia nulla datur mihi, sed capit alter honorem. 


This, however, is quite unrepresented in the Anglo-Saxon riddle. 
It seems most probable that in this case we have folk-material 
developed independently by both Saxon and Latin poets—the 
common elements representing the fundamental motives. 


RIDDLE 39 


Tuts riddle seems certainly in close correspondence with 
Kusebius’s “De vitulo.’ The complete riddle elements of the 
Anglo-Saxon poem—the spirting forth of sustenance, the breaking 
up of the hills, the binding of men—are also the puzzle elements 
in Eusebius. Considering this fact, and in view of the apparent 
confession of dependence contained in line 5 :— 


Mon mapelode, se pe me geesgde. .. . 
it seems possible that Eusebius is ‘die Hauptquelle des angel- 
sachsischen Ratsels . . . da sowohl der Bau wie auch der Wortlaut 


der Dichtung mit der erwahnter Vorlage in wesentlichen tber- 
einstimmt,’ 1 


1 Prehn, Komposition und Quellen, p. 212. 


THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 9 


Tt does not seem at all necessary, however, to suppose that 
the writer went to Aldhelm’s ‘ De ariete’ for the epithet * weepned- 
cynnes.’ Considering the subject of the riddle, the epithet lies 
to hand and is somewhat obvious; surely it need not be, as 
Prehn seems to think, a rendering of ‘ armatus rugosis cornibus ’— 
modified so as to be applicable to the smooth horns of the bull. 

The poem is happy in its suggestion of the playful exuberance 
of young animals—‘ geogudmyrwe greedig ’—and of joy in the 
beneficence of God, who makes the wells to spring forth for their 
sustenance. 


RIDDLE 41 


THE one riddle in the collection which displays an intimate and 


absolute dependence upon Aldhelm. It is a phrase for phrase 


translation of certain portions of ‘Aldhelm’s riddle,’ ‘De creatura,’ 
which is used to illustrate the Aenigma Polystichon.’ Some few 
classic words are left untranslated : ‘ pernix,’ “‘ vulcanus,’ ‘ nardi,’ 
some, however, are attempted, e.g. “Secreta Tonantis ’ becomes 
‘deagol ping heah cyninges,’ Cyclops becomes ‘those old 
giants.’ It is not, however, in entire correspondence with the 
Latin riddle. In Aldhelm we have some eighty-eight verses, of 
which only fifty-eight are used by his Saxon translator. For the 
first forty-four lines the poems run concurrently, then some 
fifteen lines are passed over—the translation recommencing with 
Aldhelm’s sixtieth verse. After proceeding for eight more lines, 
there is a return made to the commencement of the omitted 
portion. The latter portion of Aldhelm’s poem is entirely un- 
represented. The Anglo-Saxon poem is much more lengthy than 
the Latin—the Latin attributive adjectives or participles being 
frequently expanded into subordinate clauses which naturally 
give a diffuseness to the translation. There are also periphrases 
and expansions not warranted by the original, but due to the 
concrete nature of the poet’s imagination and vocabulary, e.g. 
the Latin 


horridior rhamnis et spretis vilior algis, 
becomes in Anglo-Saxon— 


ic eom wyrstlicre ponne pes wudu fula 
odde pis warod, pe her aworpen ligep. 


The Latin 


Frigidior brumis necnon candente pruina 


10 THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 


becomes in Anglo-Saxon 


Heardra ic eom ¥ caldra ponne se hearda forst 
hrim-heoru grimma ponne he to hrusan cymes. 


The Latin 


Altior en caelo rimor secreta Tonantis 
Et tamen inferior terris, tetra Tartara cerno, 


becomes in Anglo-Saxon 


Hyrre ic eom heofone; hated mec heahcyning 
his deagol ping dyre bihealdan 

Eac ic under eoréan eal sceawige 

Wom wras-scrafu, wradra gesta. 


The generalised Latin, ‘gravior plumbo,’ is visualised and made 
particular in ‘ ponne unlytel leades clympre’; while * pondera 
scopulorum ’ receives a distinctively Teutonic colouring in “Se 
hara stan.’ 

Thus, though longer, the Saxon version is much more vivid 
in its imagery than the Latin. 

The cumulative working which the theme receives entirely 
eliminates the riddle nature of the poem ; it is plainly the laboured 
product of learning, and apart from the points noticed is of small 
literary interest. 


RIDDLE 42 


Bot obscure and imperfect. Dietrich interpreted “moddor’ as 
‘the earth,’ and Prehn, accepting and developing this suggestion, 
was inclined to consider the earth and her kindly fruits as the 
solution. To Prehn the riddle formed a counterpart and contrast 
to that on the iceberg: in one the poet celebrates the earth as 
the mother of all good things ; in the other the sea as direful and 
wicked. . 
Trautmann has suggested ‘fire.’ Both these solutions, how- 
ever, fail to satisfy the term ‘ sweartestan,’ and Tupper (inspired 
by a riddle in the Flores of Bede, which speaks of ‘ wisdom’ as a 
mother suckling many children, and by the occurrence of a similar 
comparison in the first complete line of the riddle) has suggested 
that we have in the Anglo-Saxon riddle a repetition and a re- 
working of the same theme. This solution at least offers a 
reasonable explanation of ‘sweartestan ’—the ‘black things ’ 


1 Z.f.d. A, xi. 


THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 1] 


obviously being ‘letters.’ In accepting this, however, we lose 
that contact with earth and elemental things which we would 
fain keep, and what appears, when applied to earth, so simply 
and so naively said :— 


Ne magon we her in eoréan owiht lifgan 
Nymée we brucen, pes pa bearn dod 


takes on a moralising tone as the advice of cloistral learning to 
those whom it seeks to humanise. 


RIDDLE 43 


OnE of the grosser riddles. With the aid of the runes and the 
first two lines the subject is not far to seek. It would prove 
acceptable to a coarse audience, more for its theme than for its 
ingenuity as a puzzle. The runes which solve this riddle are 
given by their word translations, and not by symbols. 


RIDDLE 44 


THE mystical union of body and soul is the theme of this riddle, 
and they are presented in the relationship of thane and lord. 
Soul and body are ‘ brothers,’ there should be no strife between 
them, for the body’s welfare contributes to that of the soul. 

It is interesting to note that Shakespeare’s one hundred and 
forty-sixth sonnet repeats the two ideas upon which the Anglo- 
Saxon riddle is essentially based :— 


(a) The body is the ‘ mansion ’ of the soul (line 6). 
(6) Soul and body are as lord and servant. 


While, however, in the riddle there is a marked refusal of the 
ascetic attitude, the sonnet tells how the soul, for its own subse- 
quent interests, must renounce all care for the body :— 


Let that (7.e. the body) pine to aggravate thy (the soul’s) store ; 
Buy terms divine, in selling hours of dross. 


Apart from the subject, and the idea that the body is the tempo- 
rary dwelling of the soul, there is little in common with Eusebius’s 
enigma, ‘de animo.’ The tender note of the dependence of soul 
and body upon each other belongs exclusively to the Anglo- 
Saxon riddle, and serves to add a touch of poetry to what in the 
Latin enigma is a mere barren conceit. 


12 THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 


RIDDLES 45, 46, 55, AND 63 


THESE are all riddles which are coarsely suggestive; they all 
seem to refer with a rude kind of joy to sexual relationships. 
They are quite unrelated to the Latin riddle collections, and it 
seems quite possible, as Tupper has suggested, that they are 
re-workings of folk-riddles. Probably their piquancy was not 
impaired by the fact that innocent solutions can be found for 
them. It is quite likely that the questioner’s triumph consisted 
less in puzzling his hearer than in reproaching the pruriency of 
his answer by refuting it with some purer, though more insipid, 
solution. 
45. Dietrich 1 has suggested both ‘ key ’ and ‘ dagger-sheath.’ 
Trautmann * supported the ‘ key ’ solution. 
46. Dietrich ! offers ‘ bees,’ while Herzfeld 1 and Trautmann 2 
suggest ‘ dough.’ 
55. Dietrich? styles this ‘das starkste an Zweideutigkeit,’ 
and conjectures ‘ baker’s boy and baking-oven.’ 
63. “ Gimlet,’ ‘ foot and shoe,’ are solutions given by Dietrich ; # 
Trautmann ? offers ‘ poker.’ 


RIDDLE 47 


THis is a riddle of a type still popular—the puzzle in relationship. 
It marks the early absorption of scriptural lore, but is quite 
lacking in any literary merit. Two answers have been 
proposed :— 


(2) By T. Wright : ?—Lot, his two daughters, and their two 
sons. 

(iz) By Conybeare :*—Adam and Eve, two of their sons, and 
one daughter. 


There is apparently a play upon the wider and narrower 
meanings of * wif ’ as ‘ woman ’ and ‘ spouse,’ for the two daughters 
are, in (7.) the wives of Lot, and in (2.) Eve and her daughter. 
On the whole, Conybeare’s seems the better, for, by reckoning 
Eve as ‘ wife,’ ‘sister,’ and ‘daughter’ of Adam, all the rela- 
tionshipsm entioned, including that of ‘Ham +4 nefa’ are satisfied ; 
this latter phrase presents difficulty if Wright’s solution be 

1 ¥F. Dietrich, Z. f. d. A., xi. and xii. 

2 M. Trautmann, Anglia, Beiblatt. v. 

8 Wright, Biographia Literaria Britannica, p. 81. 

4 Conybeare, Illustrations of Anglo-Saxon Poetry, p. 212. 


1 
| 


THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 13 


accepted. In support of Wright’s solution, it may be said that 
there are evidences! of a popular ‘Lot’ riddle in Reusner’s 
collection of the riddles of Lorichius Hadamarius, and also in the 
Holme MSS : 2 — 

Two sisters stand on a tomb: 

Thus bewail the dead therein : 

‘ Alas, here lies our mother’s husband, 

Qur husband’s and our children’s father, 

And our father.’ Who can this be ? 


RIDDLE 48 | 


THE witless things which passed their existence amid a world of 
learning, but yet uninfluenced by it, seem to have provided an 
especially pleasing paradox to our early poets, e.g. Aldhelm has 
celebrated the book-chest :— 


Nunc mea, divinis complentur viscera verbis. 
At non ex lisdem nequeo cognoscere quicquam. 


Symposius, the moth :— 
In libris vixi . . . nec quid sit littera novi. 
Eusebius, * sceta,— 


In me multigera sapientia constat abunde 
Nec tamen illud scire, quid est sapientia possum. 


It seems probable that since the theme is one peculiar to the 


life of the school or monastery, where alone books were familiar, 
the Saxon treatment can scarcely have been influenced by oral 
tradition or any previously existing folk-riddle. In view, then, 
of the precise correspondence of motive in the Latin and Anglo- 
Saxon riddles, it is only reasonable to suppose that the one was 
wholly inspired by the other. 

In the Anglo-Saxon riddle we have, however, no mere trans- 
lation. The material common to Symposius receives the addition 
of an exordium characteristic of the riddle :— 


... me paet puhte 
Wretlicu wyrd, pa ic pet wundor gefregn, 


and the picturesque expansion which likens the moth to a * peof 
in pystro ’ who not only devours ‘ prymfeste cwide ’ (noblest of 
sayings), but also ‘ pees strangan stapol ’ (the strong binding). 

In one of the Holme riddles* we have a much nearer parallel 


1 Mentioned by F. Tupper, Mod. Lang. Notes, vol. xviii. No. 1. 
2 Harleian MS., 1960. 3 Ibid. 


14 THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 


to Symposius. What is virtually a literal translation of the 
Latin riddle has become, with the addition of a ‘Schluss-formel,’ 
a people’s riddle :— 


Learning doth feed me, yet I know no letter ; 

I have lived among books, yet am not the better ; 
I have eaten the muses, yet I know not a verse ; 
What student that is, I bid you rehearse. 


RIDDLES 49 AND 60 


Bots riddles obviously deal with the ritual of worship and its 
solemn symbolism ; to some extent the old heathen phraseology 
persists—heaven is ‘ godes ealdorburg,’ and, much like the mead 
cup, the object described was passed about ‘ by the hands of the 
proud ones.’ There is sufficient similarity between the two 
poems to warrant the assumption that they are both written 
upon the same theme. In both the object denoted is silent and 
yet mysteriously speaks to the hearts of men; in both, too, it 
makes intercession to the ‘preserving god,’ it causes men to 
think of their souls’ welfare (49, ll. 7 and 8), and to bring vividly 
to mind their Lord (60, ll. 7 and 8); in both it is spoken of as a 
ring. What the object is is somewhat obscure; it is something 
which brings forcibly home to the worshippers the wounds of 
Christ, the fact of salvation, and the necessity of it. It seems 
most satisfying to translate “ hring ’ as ‘ the round one,’ and then 
to interpret it as ‘chalice.’ The chalice would contain the 
- sacramental wine, which was the actual blood of Christ, and so 
would be likely to bring into mind (60, 1. 7)—before the very 
eyes (60, 1. 9)—the figure and name of our Lord. The phrases 
‘wylted and wended ’ (60, 1. 19), ‘se pe wende wridan ’ (60, 1. 5) 
will thus refer to the chalice being handed about first to one and 
then to another, and the hidden significance of the ceremony 
will find mention in 60, ll. 9 and 10, and in 49, ll. 6 and 7—God 
is brought before man’s eyes :— 


... gif paes aeplan 
goldes tacen ongretan cuéde, 
and 


Ryne ongretan readan goldes 
guman galdorcwide... 


THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 15 


RIDDLE 50 


For reasons similar to those mentioned in the note on riddle 48 
this riddle seems to draw its motive direct from a Latin source, 
Aldhelm’s ‘ De arca libraria.’ Its main interest, however, lies in 
the elaboration which Aldhelm’s material has undergone. Ald- 
helm’s riddle is entirely given up to the mere antithesis of an 
abundance of books and a lack of understanding on the part of 
the bookchest ; the Saxon riddle is marked by much circum- 
stantial detail, and a colouring derived from early monastic life. 

The heavy dark brown bookchest—the dark-visaged Celt 
who carries the volumes to and fro—the chest whose ‘ mouth’ 
he periodically feeds with them—the priceless treasures of the 
books which — 


. eplingas oft wilnias 
Cyningas Jj cwene’ 


are far more vivid than anything which Aldhelm’s somewhat 
colourless verse contains. 

If riddles 48 and 50 are direct versions from the Latin, made 
for oral use and popular entertainment, it is noteworthy how 
carefully all learned phraseology is avoided. In riddle 48 the 
*musas’ mentioned by Symphosius are omitted altogether ; while 
in the present riddle, instead of the hapless fate of unrewarded 
service to which the Parcae have adjudged the chest, a stronger 
appeal to popular pity is made by the more homely, if less classic ; 
phrase :— 

the deaf, dumb ignorant one. 


‘RIDDLE 51 


Dierricn ! suggested ‘ dog ’—Herzfeld 2 and Trautmann ® suggest 
‘fire.’ Into the last line it is not difficult to read the sentiment, 
‘Fire is a good servant, but a bad master’; this seems to be all 
that can be said for the ‘fire’ solution. On the other hand, 
lines 9 and 10 are equally true of a dog which has a snappish 
and a surly temper, and lines 4 and 5, ° Forstrangne oft wif hine 
wrid ’ seem much more suitable to ‘dog’ than to ‘ fire.’ 

To Aldhelm’s ‘De molosso,’ with which both Dietrich and 


a Lips de A. Xi. 2 Herzfeld, Die Rdtsel des Hxeter-Buchs. Berlin, 1891. 
3 Anglia, Beiblatt v. 


16 THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 


Prehn connect it, the riddle has some slight resemblance. Aldhelm, 
however, makes much more of the hound as a warrior pursuing 
its master’s enemies than does the Anglo-Saxon poet ; in Aldhelm 
the dog flees from the lashes which children lay upon it, but in 
the Anglo-Saxon riddle it is on far better terms with both youths 
and maidens who :— 


. .. mid gemete ryhte 
fede hine fegre . . . (lines 7 and 8). 


RIDDLE 52 


By Dietrich and Prehn this is supposed to be the unspoiled 
product of Germanic heathen mythology comparable with and 
parallel to the Beowulf passages which describe the dragon ; 
hence ‘dragon’ has been assumed to be the answer. Prehn, in 
his attempt to justify this, attempts to connect the riddle with 
Eusebius’s enigma ‘De dracone’; but the only points of resem- 
blance the two riddles possess lie in the two lines :— 

Corpore vipereas monstra vel cetera turmas 

Reptile sum superans gestantia pondus inerme, 


and the Anglo-Saxon phrase ‘ winnende wiga.’ This is surely not 
sufficient to establish even the possibility of identical solutions, 
and when it is further considered that there is no mention in the 
Beowulf of ‘dark tracks,’ of ‘diving under water,’ of ‘ directing 
the way ’—all essential and characteristic qualities of the riddle 
subject—the ‘ dragon ’ solution can only be received very doubt- 
fully. 

Trautmann’s solution of * pen, three fingers, and arm,’ is much 
more acceptable, though, in order to establish it it seems quite 
unnecessary to alter the ‘fugla framra’ of line 4 into ‘fugla 
fultum.’ The ‘ofer feted gold’ is taken as referring to the 
decoration of the inkhorn, the * flying or floating thro’ the air’ 
as referring to the passage of the pen from the paper to the ink- 
horn, the ‘ diving under the waves’ to its being dipped in ink. 
All this is rendered the more satisfying by the somewhat parallel 
phrases with which riddle 27 refers to the same theme. There 
‘ofer brunne brerd’ takes the place of ‘ofer feted gold,’ and 
corresponding to ‘Swearte weran lastas’ of line 2 there occurs 
in riddle 27 ‘Siéade sweart last.’ The solution receives still 
further support in Latin riddle tradition. Tatwine’s ‘de penna ’ 
had already, in the phrase ‘ vincta tribus,’ related the pen and 


THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 17 


the three fingers which hold it, while Eusebius’s ‘De penna,’ in 
the phrase ‘vestigia tetra reliquens,’ had given precedent for 
those * dark tracks ’ to which the English riddles refer. 


RIDDLE 53 


DretRicH ! thought the subject to be ‘two pails suspended from a 
servant’s shoulder’; Grein* modified this by suggesting the 
‘pails in a draw well’; later opinion seems to waver between 
flail,’ proposed by Trautmann and ‘ yoked oxen’ by Walz. 

Dietrich’s solution is scarcely compatible with what is said of 
the servant :— 


para oorum wes an getenge 
wonfah wale. 


While Grein’s is not convincing because of the inapt reference to 
the well as ‘ reced,’ and because two pails, of which one ascends 
as the other descends, do not appeal to us as being ‘bound in 
tight bonds fettered fast together’; moreover, they could not 
well be described as ‘ in raeced fergan,’ for one would be ascending 
as the other descended. the 

Trautmann’s suggestion,? ‘broom,’ seems likely; his later 
suggestion,’ ‘the flail,’ seems, however, by far the best solution 
yet offered. 

The two portions of the flail, the handle and the swingle, 
bound together with a hinge of leather thong—the ‘ grievously 
spiteful one’ (‘an getenge’) who directed their ways are seen 
to be truthfully enough described as soon as ‘ flail ’ is suggested. 

Walz’s solution,® * a yoke of oxen led into the barn by a slave,’ 
_is too easily and literally suited by the terms of the riddle ; it is 
too obvious, and fails to call forth that pleasant surprise which 
should follow the disclosure of the answer; this solution causes 
the poem to lose its riddle character, and to become merely a 
description couched in terms of literal truth. 


RIDDLE 54 


THE subject is the ‘battering ram,’ and the riddle compresses 
within its narrow limits a complete life-history of its theme. 
It had a joyous youth on the hillside, it suffered sad strokes of the 


SEA. A, Xt. 
* Grein, Germania, x. p. 307, ff. 3 Anglia, Beiblatt, v. 
4 Bonner Bevtrdge zur Anglistik, xix. s. 198. 5 Harvard Studies, v. 


VOL. I. B 


18 THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 


axe, underwent the sharp discipline of manufacture, and then © 
commenced its new career. It has become a pioneer in warfare, 
and, ‘ purh his heafdes megen,’ prepares a way for the inrush of 
walriors. 

Its similarity to Aldhelm’s ‘De ariete’ is slight, and its 
reputed connection with this enigma doubtful. ‘The ram applying 
its power by means of its head is after all a somewhat obvious 
idea, and may well appear in both riddles as a result of mere 
coincidence of subject. The ‘battering-ram’ is but casually 
mentioned in Aldhelm as one species of ‘aries’; in the Anglo- 
Saxon riddle it is the sole theme ; the description of the * battering 
ram’ in its days of nature—a description which forms so con- 
siderable a portion of the Anglo-Saxon riddle, and which isso 
poetically pleasing—finds no parallel in Aldhelm. 


RIDDLE 56 


No riddle is more typical of the way in which the contrasted 
elements of Christendom and heathendom are found side by side 
in Early English poetry. The redemptive power of the atoning 
Christ is mingled with hints of the old heathen ways—the drinking 
in the hall, the recounting of ancestries, the barbaric joy in 
cunning decorations of twisted and glittering wire. 

Dietrich’s first suggested solution was the ‘ gold-adorned 
shield.’ Unless the shield, however, bore it as a device it could 
scarcely display the shape of the ‘ rode-tacn’; the shield, more- 
over, can scarcely be called a “ weapon,’ and the very distinctive 
epithet, “ wolf-head tree,’ is rendered to a great extent meaning- 
less in spite of Dietrich’s explanation: 1 ‘Indem die Kampfen 
selbst Kampfwolfe genannt werden.’ Dietrich’s second sugges- 
tion,? ‘scabbard,’ is much better. The sword in its sheath would 
actually present an ‘image of the cross,’ and the term ‘ wolf-head 
tree ’ becomes intelligible in the light of riddle 21, in which the 
sword is made to say :— 


. . » fah eom ic wide 
Waepnum awyrged. 


Thus the scabbard is the ‘wood’ in which the ‘ wolf-head ’ 
(exiled one) finds a lodgment, and the ‘ weapon ’ of line 12 is the 
‘ gold-hilted sword ’ of line 14. 


+. Dietrich, Z. f..d./A., x1. oft (Relies cba, ond 


THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 19 


RIDDLE 57 


Turis is truly, as Dietrich has said, ‘ héchst dichterisch.’ Traut- 
mann’s ‘ flail’ solution would suit, were it not for the references 
to “ daroéas ’ and the ‘ flangeweorca,’ which are hardly reconcilable 
with it. Dietrich’s idea’ that the poem describes the weaving of 
cloth is much better ; the quickly repeated motions of the shuttle 
can well be likened to the flight of arrows piercing the warp. 
Shuttle and warp are portrayed in riotous and unceasing strife ; 
the restless shuttle strikes right through the warp with its battle 
strokes as the threads alternately rise and fall. At length :— 
Ic lafe geseah 
Minum hlaforde paer haeleé druncon 
para flan geweorca on flet beran. 


The strange line about the tree bedecked with foliage, near (or 
under ?) which the loom stood, refers to the pastoral surroundings 
amid which this thing of fierce strife carried on its battlework— 
the unceasing struggle was waged in a peaceful place under the 
shade of a green tree. 


RIDDLE 58 


Tuts riddle is a poem displaying much sympathetic observation, 
and speaking pleasantly of the ways of insects or birds. ‘Gnats’? 
seems a very happy suggestion: gnats are ‘little beings’; they 
appear when poised in multitudes in the air to be dark specks ; 
they are found both in woodlands and among the dwellings of 
men, and they make a droning sound. Their song, their multi- 
tudes, and their diminutive size, have been celebrated by Keats :— 

Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn 

Among the river sallows, borne aloft, 

Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies. 
And in its elements the Anglo-Saxon poem is not unlike this. 

‘Swallows’? and ‘starlings’* have also been proposed, not 

altogether unsuitably, as possible solutions. Starlings, however, 
are neither especially ‘black,’ nor especially ‘little.’ Truly 
Aldhelm has a riddle ‘ de hirundine,’ but it has nothing in common 
with this poem apart, perhaps, from the line :— 


sponte mea fugiens umbrosas quaero latebras. 
Trautmann’s ‘hailstones’ > and ‘raindrops’ § are not at all in 


eae fe. de Ai, Xi. = Lisifa Gs Als Xai. SR. fds At, Xi 
mei fia ds Ass Xi; 5 Dietrich, Z. f. d. A., xii. 6 Anglia, Beiblatt v. 


20 THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 


keeping with ‘pa sind blace swise—swearte salopade.’ His latest 
suggestion, ‘clouds,’ is more likely, provided we allow ‘sang’ 
(line 3) to refer to ‘thunder’; ‘cloud,’ however, is not at all 
characteristically described by ‘lytle’ (line 1); and Trautmann, 
probably conscious of this, proposes to read ‘lihte’ instead of 
‘lytle.’ Apart from the help it gives to his own theory, there 
seems no reason why the change should be proposed—the MS. 
plainly gives ‘ lytle.’ 


RIDDLE 59 


THE solution is ‘the pump.’ Riddles 70 (‘ puteus)’ and 71 
(‘tubus ’) of Symposius contain ideas which appear also in this 
riddle, vizi—water in the deeps of earth, and the bearing of it 
upwards. Considering the subject, however, these are hardly 
ideas which need suggest that any direct connection exists between 
the Latin and the Anglo-Saxon. 

Dietrich’s solution,t *draw-well,’ allows the riddle a very 
loose structure—sometimes the bucket is referred to, and some- 
times the lever which helps to raise it, but never the draw-well 
itself. ‘Pump’ has the advantage of explaining lines 7, 8, 9 
so that they may refer to the same object as lines 1-6. Thus this 
solution gives to the description a much-needed unity which has 
hitherto seemed lacking. 


RIDDLE 61 


TuHIs bears some slight resemblance to Symposius’s ‘ de arundo.’ 
In Symposius the reed is treated both as ‘ flute’ (‘ suave canens 
musis’) and as ‘pen’ (‘nigro perfusa colore nuntia sum’). 
Dietrich and Prehn suggest ‘ Rohr-Flote.’ It is difficult, however, 
to find evidence of the ‘ flute ’ in the Anglo-Saxon riddle, though 
Mr. Stopford Brooke sees in the latter portion of the riddle a 
description of ‘the lover talking in music to his sweetheart.’ 
But since music is universal in its appeal, this conception does 
not appear to satisfy the concluding lines, which speak of a 
secret message to be interpreted by two alone. 

The ‘ vicina profundis ’ and *nuntia sum’ are the only ideas 
common to the riddle ‘de arundo’ and the Anglo-Saxon riddle. 
The process of production, the secrecy of the message are entirely 
unsuggested by the Latin, while in the Anglo-Saxon riddle the 


1 Anglia, xvii. ; 


THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 21 


rather distinctive phrases, ‘ Dulcia amica dei,’ ‘suave canens 
musis,’ ‘digitis signata magistri,’ are quite unrepresented. Black- 
burn’s treatment! of the riddle as an integral portion of the 
* Husband’s message,’ and therefore not a riddle at all seems 
(as will be shown) well founded. Blackburn thinks the poem 
describes the piece of wood on which the ‘ Message’ has been 
carved ; it is worthy of note, however, that Morley 2 had already 
ventured a very simliar answer: ‘A letter beam cut from the 
stump of an old jetty.’ 


RIDDLE 62 


THE solution may quite conceivably be either ‘shirt’ or ‘ shirt 
of mail.’ In the care the woman bestows upon the garments 
of her lord in locking them away and bringing them forth when 
needed there is a note of intimate love and tenderness which is 
extremely rare in Anglo-Saxon poetry. Woman here appears, 
by her care and service, the helpmeet of man, whereas usually 
she is the proud one, nobly bedecked, who receives praise and 
honour at the mead-bench. 

A close parallel to this, conception and perhaps the only one, 
is to be found in the gnomic verses of the Exeter Book, where 
it is told how the wife washes the sailor’s sea-stained dress, and 
gives to him new garments :— 


.. . leof wilcuma 
frysan wife, ponne flota stondes 
bip his ceol cumen and hyre ceorl to ham 
agen aetgeofa and heo hine ladap 
waesce his warig hraegl and him syled waede niwe 
(lines 95-99). 


The last three lines of the riddle are extremely difficult to trans- 
late; the context is of little help, and the thought unusually 
obscure. Perhaps the passage runs: ‘If the power of him who 
received me avails, he who adorns me [the warrior is apparently 
conceived as gracing his garment, and not the garment the 
warrior] ought to fill me with something that is rough.’ Dietrich % 
has suggested that ‘das rauhe was es beim Erwaschenen fiillen 
soll ist der Haarwuchs.’ 


1 F. A. Blackburn, Journal of Germanic Philology, iii. 
2 English Writers, vol. ii. p. 38. Se Diectrich: Zi fa eu Ae xls 


22 THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 


RIDDLE 65 


SPEAKING of this riddle Dietrich! said, ‘Zu den schwierigsten 
gehort nr 65,’ and suggested *“ peacock’ as its solution. He 
transliterated the runes as W. I. B. E. H. A. P. E. F. A. 4. S. 
and P., and arranged them to form approximately ‘pea beah- 
swifededa ’ (‘ der ringgeschweifte Pfau ’). 

Hicketier ? has shown that if the runes be taken in pairs in the 
order of their occurrence, each pair will give the first two letters 
of the following words :— 


Wicg, Beorn, Hafoc, peen, Falca, spear. 


This arrangement seems preferable to that of Dietrich in so far 
as it arises naturally from the grouping of the runes as given in 
the text, and thus it seems more than probable that this riddle 
is one on the same theme as the twentieth. 


RIDDLE 66 


A RIDDLE of no literary merit. Apart from the fact that the 
riddle subject is very conventionally personified, and speaks of 
a head, a bare body, and a lack of speech, it is bald in the extreme. 
This lack of art in presenting the subject, together with the 
brevity of the riddle, suggests that it is very little, if at all, removed 
from plain folk-riddle. Hither ‘ onion’? or ‘leek’ * provides a 
suitable answer. 

The riddle is curiously similar to 26; the ‘ onion ’ is despoiled, 
its head is cut off (cp. ‘reafaé min heafod ’), its body is bitten 
(cp. ‘feged mec on faesten ’), it takes revenge for its injuries 
upon those who inflict them (cp. * waet bid paet eage ’). . 


RIDDLE 67 


In this riddle we have a summary treatment of the theme and 
material used in 41. ‘The omnipresent power of the Deity, 
comprehending at once the most minute and the most vast por- 
tions of His creation, is obviously here intended.’®> A swifter 
narrative, greater restraint, and some approach to climax in the 
arrangement of the thoughts give it a literary value considerably 
greater than that possessed by riddle 41. It seems possible that 

1 Dietrich, Z. f. d. A., xi. 2 See note to riddle 65 in Wiilcker’s Bibliothek. 


* Dictrichy 7.0). G1 Aw xae 4 Trautmann, Anglia, Beiblatt v. 
5 Conybeare, Illustrations of Anglo-Saxon Poetry, p. 213. — 


| 
| 
| 
| 
| 
| 


THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 23 


such riddies as this served not so much as puzzles as vernacular 
summaries and versifications of the current lore in the monastic 
schools, and that they were used as a means of instruction.? 


RIDDLE 70 


A SIMPLE example of the ‘monster’ motive, marked by a lack of 
adornment and a simplicity of presentation. The fact that it 
sings “haelepum to nytte,’ and is awry in shape, seems to suggest 
that it refers to some musical instrument. Dietrich conjectured 
* die Schalmei der Hirten.’ 


RIDDLE 71 


A RIDDLE whose subject is as yet very obscure. Dietrich’s 
‘cupping glass’ seems very unlikely—the terms of the riddle 
clearly point to metal of some kind; while the ‘headpiece of 
the helmet ’ would suit were it not for the lines :-— 


wepeo hwilum 
for minum gripe se pe gold wige. 


Under the circumstances ‘ sword.’ seems as satisfactory a solution 
as any; it satisfies both conditions, for it is of metal, and its 


‘ grip ’ causes sorrow, sometimes even to kings. 


RIDDLE 72 


THOUGH short, this is a highly imaginative poem ; there is suffi- 
cient to show that it is framed on the old sad theme of change 
and decline —the opening lines of the complete portion speak 
of the happiness of youth, the final lines of subjection patiently 
borne. 

The riddle commences with five imperfect lines, evidently 
dealing with the early days of its subject. As in the riddle on 
the ‘young bull’ (39), there is a suggestion of ‘four wells ’ 
whence it drew its sustenance—‘ each of which quite separately 
gave me to drink in the daytime, abundantly, through a hole.’ 

The mention of ‘brothers’ and ‘sisters’ in this imperfect 
portion, together with the fact that Symposius has an enigma 
‘ Rotae,’ in which the wheels are represented as ‘ sisters,’ evidently 


1 See Erlemann’s treatment of riddles 2, 3, 4 in Archiv f. d. Studiuwm de 
neueren Sprachen, cxi. p. 49. 


24 THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 


led Dietrich to the somewhat queer solution,! ‘wheel and axle 
of a cart,’ with the fantastic interpretation of the ‘four wells ’ 
as the oiling-holes communicating with the axle; presumably 
the iron piercing the side refers to the axle piercing through the 
centre of the wheel. 

A much better, because more satisfying, solution is, ‘an ox 
used for drawing a load.’* The early lines will then refer to the 
joyous youth of the animal before it was captured for the service 
of man. The ox could journey far afield ; it would be bound by 
a yokebeam to the cart it dragged ; it would obey a ‘ swart herds- 
man’; it would suffer silently, as with stoic fortitude, the chafings 
of its harness or the prick of a goad. 


RIDDLE 73 


A RIDDLE of some thirty lines, of which fifteen are very imperfect. 
In it yet another being speaks of a desolated life, for once upon a 
time, says the hero :— 


ic . . . wunode paer mec feddon 
hruse j heofonwolen... 


The ‘spear-shaft’ (‘aesc’ or ‘ waelsteng ’) is almost certainly 
' the answer. It once grew as a tree, was smoothed and polished, 
gripped in the hand, and is now used for killing. In lines 8-20, 
imperfect though they be, we catch glimpses of the altered life 
which the ash wood experienced :— 


(a) nu eom mines frean folme by(sig) (line 8). 
(6) eaxle gegyrde (isernes dael ?) 

ond swiora smael sidan fealwe (lines 16-18). 
(c) ponne mec heasosigel 

scir bescined (lines 19-20). 
(d) faegre feorma on fyrd wiged 

craefte on haefte (lines 21-22). 


Into the last lines might be read the spear’s boast of speedy 
and effective slaughter, yet it seems to have a deeper meaning 
and more poetic tone. Though the spear has accepted its altered 
conditions and become the faithful servant of its lord, it cannot 
withhold a sad note of pathos when it considers how it was brought . 
forth by the kindly influences of Nature, and now must be used 
for the dire work of slaughter. The spear breaks through the 


POL fh aXe 2 Anglia, Beiblatt v. 


THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 25 


body, ‘ paet aer frid haefde,’ and then the victim in the dark 
hour of death must leave this joyous earth :— 


Feringe from he fus ponan 
Wende®o of 6am wicum. 


Aldhelm’s riddle on the sling (‘de fundibulo’) is taken by 
Prehn to have inspired this riddle, and also to have suggested 
the material. The picture of the spear held in the hand with a 
firm grip Prehn thinks is suggested by Aldhelm’s 


Tres digiti totum versant super ardua corpus, 


and its glittering in the sunshine by the whirl of the sling :— 


erro caput circum tenues et tendor in auras. 


The relation between the two riddles, however, seems very doubt- 
ful and distant. 


RIDDLE "7 4 


A RIDDLE based entirely upon paradox. It is so simple and bald 
in form and so extremely brief as to suggest that it is little more 
than a folk-riddle. 

On the supposition of a likeness to Aldhelm’s ‘de loligine,’ 
which speaks of the cuttlefish as flying through the air, though 
not able to live in it, Dietrich thought that ‘cuttlefish’ was 
the answer. There are phrases, however, which this hardly 
explains :— 

(a) dead mid fiscum 


(0) ic waes faemne geong... 
ond aenlic rinc on ane tid. 


And with these in mind Tupper has suggested ‘Siren’; the 
double sex mentioned in the riddle is accounted for by the fact 
that in M.H. German ‘ Siren ’ sometimes represents a male water- 
sprite, and that in other riddles protean traits are ascribed to it ; 
the phrase ‘dead mid fiscum ’ will refer to the rocks into which, 
according to classical legend, the Sirens were changed. 

A solution which certainly has the merit of being more homely 
and ordinary is that proposed by Trautmann—‘ Water.’ This 
solution brings the riddle into line with those others in which the 
various forms of the riddle-subject are described. In this case 
water is described as 


26 THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 


(2) burne: Since burne is a feminine noun in Anglo-Saxon, the 
spring is properly referred to as a young woman. 

(6) snow: which is a masculine noun, and therefore snow 
may be referred to as a man. 

(c) iceberg: referred to as a grey-haired woman. 


In the form of snow water ‘ flies with the birds.’ Water flowing 
over the land can perhaps be said ‘ to step over the land.’ As an 
iceberg it swims in the sea, and when the iceberg melts (7.e. when 
it ‘dies ’) it turns to water, and finds its rest ‘ mid fiscum’; in 
so far as it exists in forms so varied ‘ halfde ferd cwicu.’ 

But the idea of the iceberg being ‘ dead ’ in the form of water 
‘among the fishes ’ scarcely strikes us as convincing, and because 
this solution rests also upon a distinction of grammatical gender, 
it is open to precisely the same objection as Trautmann himself 
levelled against Leo’s solution of the first riddle: ‘ Der Verfasser 
.... dichtete nicht fiir deutsche Philologen, sondern fur 
Landsleute.’ 


RIDDLE 76 


THIs is somewhat like the simple question which forms rune riddle 
75, and Grein questioned whether, to complete the riddle, there 
ought not to follow a simple series of runes.t Dietrich ? con- 
sidered it as the opening line of riddle 77. This idea, however, 
seems hardly tenable, for the subject of the riddle is referred to 
in the third person as ‘idese,’ whereas throughout riddle 77 it is 
the subject itself which speaks. A similar suggestion made by 
Dietrich with respect to 79 (also a single line) seems far more 
probable. 


RIDDLE 77 


CERTAINLY not obscure as a puzzle. Any type of edible shell- 
fish will quite convincingly suit the description: its flesh is 
eaten ‘unsodden’ (uncooked) ; its coverings are removed with 
the sharp edge of the knife; it dwells in the sea. Dietrich 
tentatively suggested ‘ oyster,’ and with this Prehn quite char- 
acteristically concurs, because Aldhelm’s enigma ‘de cancro’ 
contains a reference to ‘ ostrea ’ in its concluding line. 
The fish complains of its harsh fate :— 


. hu wile monna sum 
min flesec fretan, felles ne reced .. . 


1 Note in Wilker’s Grein’s Bibliothek, p. 226. iss fois 8 bp S45 


THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 27 


and its habitat is described, perhaps with a momentary lingering 
(in lines 1 and 2), due to the old delight in the contemplation of 
the sea. 


RIDDLE 80 


Tuis riddle has been variously solved as ‘ hawk,’! ‘spear,’ ? 
‘sword,’ ? and ‘horn ’ 4—the latter being suggested by reference 
to various objects made of horn. 

The * hawk ’ solution seems to be due, in great measure, to the 
presence of the word ‘eaxlgestella.’ Hawks used in sport were 
frequently carried in olden times upon the arm or shoulder of 
their keeper, and hence the hawk might fittingly be termed 
‘eaxlgestella.’ But against this solution it may be urged (a) that 
there is nothing to prove that the hawk was a customary present 
for the singer; (6) that it has not a hard tongue; (c) that the 
subject of the riddle is represented not as ‘ being given,’ but as 
* giving.’ 

‘Sword’ certainly has more to commend it; it might quite 
reasonably, and with perfect propriety, be referred to as ‘a 
shoulder companion’ both literally and metaphorically in the 
sense of ‘trusty comrade’; line 6, if it refers to the scabbard, 
is quite in keeping with what is said in riddle 56 (‘scabbard’). It 
is difficult, however, to interpret the ‘ giving of rewards to the 
singer ’ (line 9) as in accord with the known uses and ways of the 
sword, and the phrase ‘hard tongue’ is but a very clumsy way 
of referring to the blade. 

By far the best solution seems to be ‘horn.’ When slung 
over the shoulder it was a ‘shoulder-companion ’; as a drinking 
vessel it was the ‘companion of kings’; a queen, ‘though 
she be of noble birth,’ would, on occasion, graciously hand 
round the mead-cup to the warriors : “ Haebbe me on bosme paet 
on bearwe geweox’ will refer to the contents of the mead-cup, 
which, being derived from honey, can well be described as 
having * grown in the woods’ (cf. riddle 28, in which the mead 
speaks of itself as having been ‘ brought from the woods’) ; in the 
form of a bugle the horn, no doubt, often would with its lord 
ride * on a horse at the head of the army.’ ‘Tongue’ might be 
used in a secondary sense, meaning ‘ voice,’ in which case ‘ hard ’ 

1 Dietrich, Z. f. d. A., xi. 2 Trautmann, Anglia, Beiblatt v. 


3 Walz, Harvard Studies, v. 
4 Trautmann, Bonner Beitrdge zur Anglistik, xix. 


28 THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 


would refer to its harsh unlovely notes; lastly, filled with wine 
or mead, it was often offered for a singer’s refreshment when he 
had finished his lay and ‘ as a reward for his words.’ 


RIDDLE 81 


THREE solutions have been proposed. Dietrich! at first proposed 
‘ship,’ though afterwards, in conjunction with Lange, he sug- 
gested “the headpiece of the helmet.’* Trautmann? proposed 
‘ weathercock.’ Of these the most satisfying seems to be ‘ head- 
piece of the helmet.’ The thing has its dwelling-place above its 
lord (‘eard ofer aeldum’), and endures wretchedness ‘ wither- 
soever he who holds the spear bears me.’ ‘Ship’ cannot be said 
to fulfil at all felicitously either of these conditions, while * weather- 
cock ’ seems debarred entirely by the second of them. 

Whatever be the theme, the value of the riddle as poetry lies 
in its passionate note of sadness. The subject endures a dreary 
fate—it lives a life of cheerless, bleak exposure to hard weather. 


RIDDLE 83 


DretRicH* solves this as referring to ‘das Erz.’ Trautmann® 
suggests “das Geld.’ The latter seems inspired by the likeness 
which the early portion of the riddle bears to Symposius’s * De 
pecunia ’; Prehn considers that the lines subsequent to the fourth 
are spoken by a weapon, but there would seem to be some diffi- 
culty in accepting this view, for metal, in the shape of a weapon, 
could scarcely say :— 


ic him yfle ne mot, 


nor could it claim that its journeyings are particularly ‘ secret.’ 


A poetic fancy, however, could well ascribe to the coin a certain 


helplessness, strange journeyings, which, it is fated, are not to 
be known by men, and also ‘many wounds ’—the latter phrase 
referring perhaps to its snipped and filed condition. 
The similarity to Symposius does not extend beyond the idea 
of the earthy origin of the metal. | 
As in so many other riddles, this speaks of a riddle-hero who 
1 Dietrich, Z. f. d. A., xi. ? Dietrich, Z. f. d. A., xii. % Anglia, Beiblatt v. 
4 Heusler, ‘ Die Altnordischen Ratsel,’ Zeitschrift des Vereins fiir Volkeskunde, 


Heft ii. 1901. 
Dietrich; Zz jf.1d- Ass xis 


) 


THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 29 


has suffered plundering and subjection, his life has been changed, 
and so his lot is one of sad reminiscence. 


RIDDLE 84 


THE solution is ‘ water in its various forms.’ The riddle seems to 
be a diffuse and elaborated version of material taken from the 
common-lore of the time. Dietrich related it to the two aenigmata 
of Aldhelm, ‘De fonte’ and ‘De aqua’; it finds, however, a 
closer parallel in Eusebius’s “ De equore.’ The rolling of the sea, 
the bearing of goodly ships upon its bosom, its wanderings on 
the ‘ grundbedd ’ (‘ the bottom of the monstrous world’) are all 
elements in Eusebius which receive in the Saxon riddle con- 
siderable extension and elaboration. 
In the Saxon riddle the water bears ships :— 
... wistum gehladen 
hordum gehroden. 


¢ 


it has a winsome beauty— it is ‘wynsum wuldorgimm,’ it has a 


stark, ravaging power :— 
gifrost J graedgost grundbedd trides ; 


it waters the earth and makes it bring forth abundantly. 

The excessive use of antithesis and balanced epithet and an 
introduction of Christian phraseology detract considerably from 
the literary worth of the poem—it ‘lingers and wanders on as 
loth to die,’ long after all inspiration seems exhausted. 


RIDDLE 85 


THE subject of this riddle is ‘river and fish.’ The poem bears 
a close resemblance to Symposius’s * flumen et pisces.’ The ideas 
are simply set forth quite unadorned, so that it seems little, if 
at all, removed from the folk-riddle. Of-the existence of a 
folk-riddle upon this theme we have evidence in the ‘ waterfall 
and fish’ riddle of the Hervara Saga. Among the Norwegians 
to-day there is, says Hensler, a popular riddle on the same 
subject. 


RIDDLE 86 


ORIGINALLY supposed by Dietrich? to refer to the organ with 
its “myriad pipes.’ It is difficult, however, to read one eye, two 
O27 fF. ds A; El: 2 Anglia, Beiblatt v. 


OOo "oO Ome™ 


30 THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 


ears, arms, shoulders, and neck into the form of the organ, and 
Dietrich’s second suggestion,’ ‘the one-eyed garlic seller,’ is 
queer, but much more satisfying. 

The poem seems to be a folk-riddle of the ‘monster’ type, 
to which the poet has added the traditional ‘ Schluss-formel,’ 
irrespective of the fact that the ‘Schluss-formel ’ employs the first 
person, while the rest of the riddle is written in the third. 


RIDDLE 87 


THE poem is imperfect, both in the middle (after line 5) and at 
the end. ‘The wondrous wight with a large distended belly ’ 
seems to denote ‘ the cask,’ and the process of broaching it seems 
to be described. We have here recorded the resounding noise 
incident to that process ; the ‘eye’ is the bunghole; the ‘man 
behind ’ attacks it with ‘ heaven’s tooth ’-—‘ oder ohne mytholo- 
gischen Schmuck mit dem donnernden Keile.’ ? 


RIDDLE 88 


THoucH this riddle is very imperfectly preserved, the portion 
which is decipherable is full of poetry, and must in this respect 
be classed among the best in the whole collection. 

The ‘antlers of the stag ’ seems to be the subject into whose 
fallen fortunes the poet enters so passionately and imaginatively. 
Throughout the poem we have the sad note of retrospect. Wyrd 
has separated brothers who grew up together in boon companion- 
ship and mutual helpfulness—they are swept apart; each is an 
exile and knows not where the other may be. While they still 
adorned the head they grew on, they were protected from the 
showers down in bosky valleys amid the foliage :— 


... ful oft unc holt wrugon 
wudubeama helm wonnum nihtum 
scildon wid scurum... 


But now all is changed :— 
Nu mec unsceafta innan slitaé 
wyrdap mec be wombe... 
and the horn stands up companionless and cruelly nailed to the 
roof-top. 
PZ. dA, Xie 2 Zi: fd. Any ile 


| 
| 
| 
' 
1 


THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 31 


Again and again the lyric cry of sorrow is heard :— 
(1) ic gewenden ne maeg (line 33). 
(2) Nis min bropor her (line 23). 
(3) Ne wat hwer min bropor on wera ehtum 
Eoréan sceata eardian sceal (lines 26-27), 


RIDDLE 90 (LATIN) 


Tuts riddle is extremely obscure. Evidently ‘lupus’ and ‘agnus’ 
in such inverted relationship is the point of the riddle. The 
frequent mention of ‘lupus’ in the riddle has led some to think 
that the poet wished to impress upon us the idea—wul/f—and 
hence, perhaps darkly, to suggest Cynewulf. This, however, does 
not explain the strange terms of the riddle. Dietrich 1 thought 
that these may be explained by supposing that ° wolf ’ bore several 


- meanings, and suggested ‘ Hecht’ (* pike ’)—the ‘ wolfish ’ fish,— 


as one. In a second attempt? he replaced this by ‘ barsch,’ on 
the evidence of the Epinal gloss, which gives * lupus—baers.’ 

Morley,® in keeping with his suggested solutions to 1 and 95 
(the‘ Christian preacher’ and “the Word of God’), solves this 
as the ‘ Lamb of God’; and to this Tupper * has lent some show 
of probability by citing a Latin enigma of Aurelius Prudentius, 
which likewise presents the * Lamb’ as dominating the ‘ wolf.’ 
An old German problem, * Do quam ein lam and benam dem 
wolfe dy herte,’ is paralleled by the ‘ capit viscera lupi’ of the 
90th riddle. 

Trautmann ° thinks that the riddle really consists of two 
riddles—lines | and 2 giving the first, and 3, 4, 5 the second. He 
puts forward, certainly, be it said, ‘mit ausserstem Misstrauen,’ 
what seem very strange solutions, ° Kinn-frass,’ and ‘ Kinn- 
eisen.’ ; 

An interesting and ingenious suggestion ° is that the riddle is 
after all a charade upon ‘Cynewulf.’ In the letters composing 
the name the words ‘ewu’ (‘agnus ’) and ‘ wolf’ (‘lupus’) are 
present. The ‘wu’ in ‘ewu’ coincides with the ‘ wu’ in ‘ wulf,’ 
and. thus, in a certain sense, in order to spell ‘ewu’ two letters 
must be snatched from ‘wulf.’ This is symbolised by saying 


that ‘lupus ab agno tenetur ... et capit viscera lupi.’ The 
1%. f.d. A., xi. p. 479. 2 Z. f.d. A., xii. p. 250. 
3? Morley, English Writers, ii. * Mod. Lang. Notes, xviii. No. 4. 


5 Anglia, xvii. 396 ff. 
§ Erlemann (E. and F.), Archiv f. d. n. Sprachen, vols. exi. and xv. (new series). 


32 THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 


subsequent portion of the explanation is scarcely satisfactory : 
‘duo’ is taken as a neuter, ‘lupi’ as a genitive. The passage, 
‘duo lupi stantes, tertium tribulantes ’ means, ‘ two (letters) of 
the (word) wolf’ (viz., ‘ wu’) pressing hard upon ‘1’ have four 
feet (z.e. ‘ Cyne) (‘d. h. cyne ist ’ Fuss—nach bekannter Ratselter- 
minologie—zu ‘wul’). “Cum septem oculis videbant ’ through 
seven (letters) they (7.e. the animals) are manifested to the eyes. 
Hence ‘Cynewul(f) is the solution. This, however, is highly 
artificial. The fact that ‘f’ has already been suggested in the 
first line is no reason for ignoring it in the second portion of the 
puzzle ; moreover, it is not clear in what way ‘Cyne’ can be 
styled a ‘foot’ or ‘feet’ to wul. 

In the absence of further suggestion, Morley’s suggestion, in 
so far as it is supported by other riddles of similar imagery, must 
be considered the most satisfactory solution among several which 
are very doubtful. 


RIDDLE 91 


DieTRICcH solved this as referring to “ key or bolt,’ while Trautmann 
has suggested ‘sickle.’ ‘Key’ seems to reconcile the various 
puzzle elements most satisfactorily. The key’s structure, its 
coming to grips with the lock, its use, are all portrayed. Some- 
times it unlocks in the silence of the night-time (° middelnihtum ’) 
the treasure chest ; at other times it locks it up, so that its lord 
may sleep in peaceful security (lines 1-7). 

Lines 8-11 seem to refer to the turning backwards of the neb 
of the key in the process of unlocking, so that the lord may take 
out from the chest the treasure and spoils obtained from those 
he has slain. 


RIDDLE 93 


THIS poem is very imperfectly transmitted to us, both at its 
commencement and conclusion. The subject seems to be ‘ ink- 
horn,’ and, as in many other cases, the poet begins by describing 
to us its origin. In the early portion we have a description of 
the freedom and lithe strength of the stag who roamed at will 
over moor and through valley; soon, however, came the sad 
change when the horn was subjected to a stern discipline, and 
underwent an experience which transformed a beautiful natural 
object into a vessel for the service of man. 

Eusebius has an enigma, ‘De atramentario,’ which presents — 


THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 33 


the horn both in its natural and in its manufactured state, but 
the sore discipline of transition, the description of which forms 
an element of such distinct poetic value in the Anglo-Saxon 
riddle, is quite absent from Eusebius. LEusebius’s riddle may 
have suggested the bare intellectual elements which form the 
basis of the Anglo-Saxon riddle, but the introduction of picturesque 
detail and the infusion of a distinctive and unifying spirit are 
entirely due to the Anglo-Saxon poet. 


RIDDLE 95 


THE critical fortunes of this riddle have followed to some extent 
those of the first riddle. The poet who made the first riddle a 
charade upon his own name was supposed by Dietrich to have 
described his calling in the last ; hence Dietrich’s solution :1 ‘ the 


| wandering singer.’ 


The phrases :— 
(a) no paer word sprecasé aenig ofer eordan (lines 9 and 10); 
(b) blaed in burgum o%dée beorhtne god (line 6) ; 
(c) (ic) reste oft ricum j heanum (line 2) ; 
(d) ic swade hwilum mine bemipe monna gehwylcum (lines 
12-13) 
Dietrich interpreted as referring to :— 
_ (a) the charmed silence of the listeners ; 
(6) the giving of bright gifts in the burg ; 
(c) the wandering singer’s popularity among all classes ; 
(d) his love of quiet seclusion. 


Trautmann * solved it as ‘ the riddle,’ and saw in its correspondence 
with the supposed subject of the first riddle a strong argument 
for the essential unity of the collection. In the ‘ hivende (line 5) 
he saw a reference to the ‘ waelhreowe weras ’ of the first riddle ; 
lines 12 and 13, describing how ‘though men eagerly pursue me 
I hide my tracks from them,’ Trautmann conceived as referring 
to the elusiveness of the true answer ; and the obscure lines :— 
pee) Se rereon wide 


J me fremdes aer freondum stonded 
hypendra hyht, 


_ which Dietrich translated, ‘ Their joy goes out to me as a stranger 
_ rather than to their friends,’ Trautmann emended by the inclusion 


1 Dietrich, Z. f. d. A., Xi. 2 Trautmann, Anglia vi. (Anzeiger), 
VOL. II. Cc 


34 THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 


of ‘gefea’ after ‘fremdes,’ and then translated the passage 
thus: ‘The joy which the stranger brings with him (‘gefea 
fremdes ’) travels far, and their praise is extended to me more 
readily than to their friends. 

While still adhering to the ‘riddle’ solution, Trautmann * 
now proposes | 


ond me fremdes (f)aer freondum stondes 


as an amended fourth line—the *freondum’ to be taken as an 
oblique case of ‘freonde’ (freo(ge)nde); the word *“god’ in 
line 6 he would replace by ‘ gong’: ‘ Ich sehe in dem tiberlieferten 
“god”? ein Verderbsel aus “gong.” Einsolches lasst sich leicht aus 
der Schreibung “gog’”’ begreifen der strich tber dem “‘o”’ konnte, 
wenn der Schwanz des zweiten “g’”’ nicht ganz deutlich war, 
unschwer fiir den oberen Bogen eines d . . . genommen werden.’ 
But neither ‘ riddle ’ nor ‘ wandering singer ’ is convincing. 
1. ‘Wandering singer’ scarcely seems to belong to the usual 
cycle of riddle themes, nor does it satisfy the lines 
left unexplained by Dietrich :— 


Nu snottre men swidast lufiad. midwist mine. 


As Trautmann has pointed out, other than the wise and 
quick-witted can be conceived as taking delight in the minstrel’s 
lay. 

2. The ‘riddle’ solution seems altogether too ingeniously 
derived and not sufficiently instant in its appeal to 
be obvious without further explanation. 

The latest solution is that offered by Tupper 2—‘ the moon.’ 

Certain elements in the puzzle are very like those which occur in 
the 30th riddle (“Moon and Sun ’), e.g. :— : 


(1) it has fame among the dwellers on earth ; 
(2) it delights in booty ; 
(3) it sometimes disappears ; 


and these points of likeness, together with the facts that it is 
beloved of wise men, that it reveals wisdom silently (perhaps a 
reference to the belief of early peoples in moon-lore), that it is 
known both to high and to low, seem to establish this solution 
as in all probability the true one. It is certainly the best that 
has been offered, for in no point is the interpretation strained. 


1 Trautmann, Bonner Beitrdge zur Anglistik, xix. 
* Tupper, Modern Language Notes, xxi. (4), 


THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 35 


APPENDIX I 


TABLE SHOWING POINTS OF VARIATION IN THE NUMBERING 
OF THE RIDDLES 


Th.=Thorpe’s Codex Hxoniensis, 1842. 
Gr.—Grein’s Bibliothek der ags. poesie, 1858—as far as the riddles 
are concerned, based on Thorpe. 
Tr.=Trautmann’s Anglia, Beiblatt. 
W.=Wiulker’s edition of Grein’s Bibliothek. 


Grein. 


Dotted vertical lines denote that the numbering proceeds quite 
regularly between the upper and lower numbers. 


Thorpe’s First Series Codex Hxoniensis, pp. 380-441 


W. 
1 
2 


36 
36A, 
37 


38 


60 


Th. Gr. Abies 
1 1 J 
2 PSOE as 
3 Syasaecss bance SP Vessehener Cae 
4 ee gees 
5 5 3 

36 36 34 

37 Begone 35 (1-8)------: 

36 (9-14) 
38 38 37 
60 60 59 
Thorpe’s Second Series, Codex Exoniensis, pp. 470-73 

De ec 

O) aos demecasocecss( I | 60 


61 


—.=denotes fragment existing in MS. omitted by Thorpe and iy 


36 


Thorpe’s Third Series, Codex Exoniensis, pp. 470-500 
i: Gr. 


1 


THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 


62 


Cr 
“java 


69 


BIOS =: 


Tr. 
61 


W. 
62 


70 


Peilcsedee eo 
= 


THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 37 


APPENDIX II 


A SHORT REVIEW OF THEORIES, PAST AND PRESENT, 
EXPLAINING THE SO-CALLED ‘FIRST RIDDLE’ 


THE idea that the first poem was a riddle seems to have been originally 
due to Thorpe’s inclusion of it under the heading ‘riddles’ in his 
Codex Hxoniensis. It was a brief poem, and it displayed an obscurity 
naturally to be expected in an enigma; but in his notes he frankly 
confessed, “ Of this I can make no sense, nor am [ able to arrange the 
verses.’ 1 Leo in 1857 was the first critic to link the name of Cynewulf 
with the poem, and he set forth a theory that the ‘riddle’ was a 
charade upon that poet’s name. Dietrich eagerly accepted Leo’s 
solution, and did much to increase its plausibility by supposing the last 
riddle to be one on the ‘ wandering singer,’ and by reading into the 
90th a play on the last syllable of *‘Cynewuwlf.’ So reinforced, 
the theory was generally accepted, until Trautmann in 1883 made a 
strong attack upon it. lLeo’s interpretation was shown to be based 
upon an inaccurate rendering of the text, a reading of forced meanings 
into words, and an unwarranted tampering with words quite clear in 
the MS. 
Briefly stated, Leo’s theory 2 was as follows :— 


1. ‘ waelhreowe ’ suggests ‘ céne ’ (=‘ fierce ’). 
2. The woman mourning suggests ‘coen”’ (‘ mulier nobilis ’). 
3. The ‘ wudu’ of lines 16-19 suggests ‘ cén’ (‘a torch’). 


These three words, ‘ céne,’ ‘ coen,’ and ‘ cén,’ are intended to give 
the first syllable of the name Cynewulf. 


4, The ‘e’ joining ‘ cyn’ to ‘ wulf’ is darkly suggested by the 
| initial letter in the word ‘ Eadwacer.’ 
5. ‘Wulf’ in lines 4-7, 16-19 is either mentioned or suggested 
as an animal, while in lines 8 and 15 it is a man’s name. 
In this way the last syllable is supplied. 


This interpretation was too devious and subtle for it to commend 
itself as probable. 

Trautmann,? however, was scarcely more happy in the solution 
he proposed. According to him ‘the riddle’ was the answer to both 
the Ist and 95th riddles. He interpreted the first riddle as follows : 
The ‘ wolf’ was the guesser, the speaker was the riddle itself, the fen 
was the darkness surrounding the answer to the riddle. ‘Thy 
seldom coming has made me sick at heart, yet not for lack of food’ 

1 Thorpe’s Codex Hxoniensis ; preface, p. x. 


2 Leo’s Que de ipso Cynewulfus poeta Anglosaxonicus tradierit.—Halle, 1857. 
8 Anglia, Anzeiger vi. pp. 158-169, ‘ Cynewulf und die Ratsel.’ 


38 THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 


is the riddle’s way of saying, ‘'Thy wild and far-fetched answers have 
made me weary, not at all lack of guesses’; ‘uncer giedd’ and 
‘uncerne hwelp ’ refer to the solution. Since the noun ‘raedelle’ is 
inAnglo-Saxon feminine, it was fitting that it should be represented 
as a woman; and ‘wulf’ suitably represented the guesser, because 
throughout Germanic folklore the wolf is ever the symbol of delight 
in strife and struggle. 

This, however, placed upon the poem an interpretation quite as 
intricate as that of Leo, while the subtly figurative nature of the 
language which this reading implied was altogether alien to the 
spirit of Anglo-Saxon poetry. 

The next suggestion came from Professor H. Morley,1 who pro- 
posed ‘ the Christian teacher.’ 

Since 1888 a number of scholars have attacked the problem and, 
arguing entirely on a basis of style, verse structure, and language, 
have commenced an entirely new line of explanation. The language 
of the poem is certainly strange and unusual in many ways, é.g. :— 


1. The phrase ‘on preat cuman,’ and the word ‘adecgan’ are 
distinctly unusual, and do not occur any were else in 
Anglo-Saxon. 

. None of the usual meanings of ‘to pon’ will suit it in the context 
in which it occurs. 

3. ‘Ig,’ through an Anglo-Saxon word, is of extremely rare occur- 

rence. 

4, ‘Harne’ is a strange form, if it is an oblique case of either 

“earh ’ (cowardly) or ‘ earn’ (swift). 


bho 


The verse structure of the passage is unusual—indeed, Trautmann * 
had already mentioned the disordered state of the metre and the 
strange occurrence of half lines, while Hicketier? had noticed its 
apparently strophic structure. 

In 1888 Dr. Henry Bradley* accounted for the style of the poem 
and its apparently unfinished form by supposing that it was ‘ not a 
riddle at all, but a fragment of a dramatic soliloquy like ‘ Deor’ 
and the ‘ Banished Wife’s Complaint’: the speaker was a captive 
woman in a foreign land, ‘ Wulf,’ her lover and an outlaw, Eadwacer — 
her tyrant husband. Dr. Bradley also called attention to the parallel 
between ‘on preat cuman’ and the Norse idiom, ‘on prot koma.’ Though 
no suggestion was offered concerning the origin of the soliloquy, the 
theory explained satisfactorily the occurrence of a proper name in the 


1 In keeping with the solutions suggested for riddles 90 and 95—‘ Lamb of 
God’ and ‘ Word of God’ respectively. ‘The solutions of both Morley and 
Trautmann for riddles 1 and 95 seem based on the erroneous idea that the Anglo- 
Saxon riddle collection is a pre-conceived whole which commences and ends 
with riddles on the same, or similar, themes. 

2 Anglia, Anzeiger vi. 3 Anglia, x. p. 567. 

4 Academy, Xxxill. p. 829. . 


THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 39 


‘riddle,’ and gave a reasonable interpretation to the last lines which 
had stretched the ingenuity of Leo and Trautmann to the utmost. 
Professor Gollancz,! taking up this suggestion, evidently made either 
some modification or development of it, for in 1893 he ‘ explained for 
the first time the absurdly misnamed ‘ first riddle,’ . . . and showed 
that it was a lyric yet highly dramatic poem in five fittes, a life drama 
in five acts.’ 

The full significance of the form and language of the poem was, 
however, first made clear by Professor Lawrence.2?, He suggested 
that :— 


1. The ‘ short’ lines are not imperfect lines, for there is no hiatus 
in the sense of their context. 

2. The verse is of strophic character—there is a marked regularity 
in the occurrence of the short lines, and they bear a refrain. 

3. Such short lines and such a verse structure is especially 

| characteristic of Old Norse poetry, and differentiates 

it from that of other Germanic peoples. 

4, The linguistic peculiarities of the poem can be accounted for 
by supposing the Anglo-Saxon poem to be a rather literal 
translation of Old Norse verse, e.g. :— 


(a) ‘Ig’ owes its presence to a desire to preserve the 
unosyllabic and commonly used Norse ‘ ey.’ 

(0) “ Karne’ preserves the duosyllabic character of the 
Norse ‘ orvan’ (‘ orr’). 

(c) ‘On preat cuman,’ as Bradley had already noticed, is 
a literal rendering of ‘on prot koma.’ 

(d) The imperfect alliteration of ‘hwaesre’ and * wyn’ 
is to be explained by a tendency towards literal 
exactitude in translation. 

(ec) ‘ Kadwacer ’ is a transliteration of the Norse epithet 
‘ Auévakr.’ 


Thus the ‘riddle’ bears upon it the marks of an alien influence. Its 
strophic metre, its strange syntax and word-forms are not entirely 
concealed by its Anglo-Saxon garb. Since most of its irregularities 
can be explained by reference to Norse literal equivalents it seemed 
very probable that the passage originally had a Norse form, and was 


subsequently translated into Anglo-Saxon. 


Before the results of Professor Lawrence’s research were made 
public, his colleague, Professor Schofield,* succeeded in identifying the 
incidents so lightly and indistinctly referred to with incidents described 
in the Volsunga Saga, and the poem received from him the name it 
seems destined henceforward to bear, viz., ‘Signy’s Lament.’ 


1 Academy, xliv. (8rd Dec. 1893)—report of meeting of Philological Society. 
* Publications of Modern Language Association of America, vol. xvii. 
3 [bid. 


= or > 


40 THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 


The precise place in the story that the incidents occupy is a 
matter of some doubt. Professor Schofield thinks that our poem 
represents the utterance of Signy when, on finally parting with Sinfj- 
otli, her share in the scheme of revenge is complete; she has taken 
him to Sigmund to be disciplined in all manly exercises before the 
final deeds are accomplished, and she triumphantly exclaims :— 


Gehyrest pu Hadwacer uncerne earne hwelp 
bired wulf to wuda 


This interpretation is supported by the further light it throws upon 
the occurrence of the word ‘ wulf.’ Sigmund the Volsung was chief 
of the Wulfings, and therefore correctly addressed as ‘ Wulf.’ 

Though the discussion has resulted in a final abandonment of the 
idea that the first poem is a riddle, Professor Schofield’s identification 
of the incidents to which it refers has not passed unchallenged. The 
mere fact that the incidents of the Anglo-Saxon poem are to be paral- 
leled by incidents in the Sigurd cycle must not be taken to prove a 
direct and necessary relationship. ‘Identity of story does not imply 
identity of actors. Nothing is more common in heroic legend than for 
a set of incidents to be transferred from one set of personages to 
another belonging to a different cycle.’1 But when, over and above 
this general correspondence of story, some actual identification of 
person or place can be made, then a direct relationship is much more 
probable. Now one of the weakest points in Professor Schofield’s 
theory is his explanation of ‘ Eadwacer’; ‘ Audvakr’ is a purely 
fictitious and hypothetical form created to account for ‘ Kadwacer.’ 
In view of these facts, both Professors Gollancz and Bradley are 
inclined to identify ‘ Eadwacer’ with Odoacer, the ‘ Otacher,’ of the 
Lay of Hildebrand. If this identification be accepted, the poem must 
be considered as belonging to the Theodoric rather than to the Sigmund 
cycle. ‘Wulf and Hadwacer,’ as Professor Gollancz prefers to call 
the poem, must then be considered as a lay shaped from transferred 
material, and based upon the thirty years’ exile which Theodoric 
endured in consequence of Odoacer’s enmity. | 

Since the Schofield-Lawrence theory was published, the question 
of a possible connection between the Norse Helden-sage and the 
Anglo-Saxon fragments in the Exeter Book has received further 
attention. The poem usually called the ‘Husband’s Message,’ com- 
posed of what Thorpe divided into riddle and fragment, has been 
compared by Professor Schofield? with a situation arising in the 
Tristram Saga, while Miss Rickert.* has shown that ‘ a certain parallel- 
ism’ exists between the ‘ Wife’s Lament’ and a portion of the Offa 
Saga. ‘Signy’s Lament,’ if this be the subject, is therefore not an 

1 Professor Bradley in Atheneum, 6th Dec. 1902. 


* Eng. Int. Norman Conquest to Chaucer, p. 202. 
8 Modern Philology, vol. ii. 365 ff. 


THE ANGLO-SAXON RIDDLES 41 


isolated instance of material being found in Early English which 
occurs later in an elaborated Norse form. It may be that in the few 
fragmentary poems of the Exeter Book we have all that has survived 
of very early English lays dealing with the great figures of Northern 
legend-lore—lays whose incidents have reappeared later collected, 
elaborated, and modified in the great Germanic Sagas. 


SOME ANCIENT DEFENSIVE EARTHWORKS | 
NEAR ABERYSIWYTH, WITH NOTES ON | 
EARLY COMMUNICATIONS 


BY 
FRANK S. WRIGHT | 


i 
Hy 


sy sb ss 
ae 
2 
My Zs 
: j 
7 S . ) S 


SSeS LC SC,rlC OOO 


SOME ANCIENT DEFENSIVE EARTHWORKS 
NEAR ABERYSTWYTH, WITH NOTES ON 
EARLY COMMUNICATIONS 


INTRODUCTION 


NortuH CaRDIGANSHIRE is a land of deep valleys cutting a plateau 
- into a maze of broad-shouldered hills, over which the sea winds 
sweep with such fury that trees dare not lift themselves above the 
valley sides. The valley bottoms are, as usual, filled with boulder 
clay which has kept them damp at all times, and the plateau 
tops are thus the only portion of the country which was habitable 
by early man.' The woodlands of the valley slopes were the 
abode of wolf and wild boar, the valley bottoms were wet and 
treacherous because of woodland patches wherein enemies might 
lurk. The open moorland on the other hand, gave scope for 
movements of flocks and herds along its ridgeways, and there were 
defensive sites suitable for habitation by our forefathers who had 
not yet been softened by civilisation. Their defences were chiefly 
earthworks, of which Cardiganshire possesses a large number. 
It is fairly certain that these defences have been used at various 
periods by various peoples, and it seems essential that we should 
feel our way towards a better understanding of their types and 
features so as to attain to a chronology of them. The present 
article is an attempt in this direction,and will be followed by others 
until the survey is as complete as it can be made. It cannot be 
more than hinted at present that some of the earthworks date 
back to the later Stone Age; when the survey is more complete 
we may know enough to make trial excavations, and they will 
doubtless lead to important and perhaps even surprising increases 
of our knowledge of our country’s past. 


Pren Dinas Contour CAMP, NEAR ABERYSTWYTH (Fia. 1) 


One of the finest and best preserved of Welsh contour camps is 
that which crowns the hill known as Pen Dinas (Pen-y-Dinas— 


_1 See Archeology and Anthropology, H. J. Fleure, Arch..Camb., April 1913. 
45 


46 SOME ANCIENT DEFENSIVE EARTHWORKS 


‘the Head of the Fortress’), which is situated close to, and im- 
mediately south of the town of Aberystwyth, between the rivers 
Rheidol and Ystwyth, near their common outlet to the sea. 

This hill attains a height of four hundred feet at its southern 
extremity, where the Wellington Monument now stands, and here 
was the stronghold to which the defenders retreated to make a last 
stand against an enemy. 

In plan the defences resemble the figure 8, and the interior of 
the camp seems to be divided into three portions, viz.,°a circular 
northern enclosure, the stronghold in the south, and a narrow 
median isthmus connecting these two parts. Along the western 
side of the stronghold the slope is very abrupt, and one slight 
scarp, with its accompanying and very narrow terrace, was 
sufficient for its defence. On the east the slope is less steep, and 
there have been made two very formidable terraces, which even- 
tually run into the two screens protecting the eastern side of the 
communication-way between the northern and southern defences ; 
two other screens, one of which is very large, protect the western 
flank of this way. 

The northern defences consist of a single vallum and fosse 
(slight traces of a shallow fosse still exist on the eastern side of 
the ‘isthmus’): this vallum also encloses the narrow central 
portion of the hill, the isthmus mentioned before. 

Two methods of construction have been employed in making 
the defences of Pen Dinas camp. On the north, where the 
sradient is slight, the vallum has been built up, and this involves 
a much greater expenditure of labour than at the south, where 
the slope is steeper, and the hillside has been scarped, and terraces 
have been formed by the material (probably) thus removed. A 
considerable amount of stone appears to have been used in 
building the vallum in the north, and stone is seen at one place 
where the outer slope of the terraces has been dug into, but this 
latter dry-walling is almost certainly modern. 

The large area of the Pen Dinas fortress would render its 
adequate defence difficult, and at first sight the motive which 
caused the northern portion of the hill to be fortified is not appar- 
ent. Tradition, however, very commonly asserts that camps of 
this description near the coast were built as a defence against the 
Danes—i.e.any searovers. Itis significant in this connection that 
one part of the shore at Aberystwyth is known as Wig-y-Gwyddel 
(=Goidel, and, more particularly Irishman), which name perhaps 


eee i ae ee ae - 
ee — ~~ —— — 


SOME ANCIENT DEFENSIVE EARTHWORKS = 47 


commemorates a landing of the Irish or Danish-Ivish, at or near 
this spot. The shore at Aberystwyth yields the only convenient 
landing-place for some considerable distance north and south. 
It was necessary that this landing-place—which was probably 
somewhere in the vicinity of the present Pier Pavilion—should 
be watched, in order to give the occupants of Pen Dinas camp 
timely notice of the approach of raiders. This harbour cannot 
be seen from the citadel, but is overlooked by the northern part 
of the hill, and this fact may have led to the maintenance of the 
northern defence. No very determined resistance would or could 
be offered here, ere the defenders retired within the stronghold. 
It is worthy of note, however, that at the two most vulnerable 
points in the whole defensive scheme—on the east and west of 
the isthmus—the defences curve rather sharply inwards, thus 
allowing a severe cross-fire of missiles to be delivered against an 
assailant. This shape, however, may be due in part to the con- 
figuration of the ground at these points. 

But whether Pen Dinas was improved and extended for defence 
against Dane or Gwyddel or not, the fortress, or a portion of it, 
must certainly be regarded as having been occupied since the 
latter part of the neolithic phase, or the dawn of the bronze 
period, especially in the light of a recent discovery near the 
shore just below, and to the north-west of the camp. When 
the foundations of the present Isolation Hospital at the mouth 
of the Ystwyth were being excavated in 1911, a neolithic 
chipping-floor (fig. 1) was uncovered, and many hundreds of 
flint and chert cores, flakes, and some roughly-finished weapons 
were found. Practically the only source of flint in Wales is the 
seashore, where flints, deposited on what is now the floor of Car- 
digan Bay by the ancient glaciers, have since been heaped up on 
the storm beaches. The flints were presumably roughly chipped 
on this site, probably by the inhabitants of the Pen Dinas fortress- 
settlement, before being carried away to be finished at their 
leisure. The site was discovered by Professor O. T. Jones of the 
University College of Wales, Aberystwyth, and a large number of 
flints have been collected by Mr. Roger Thomas, and are now in 
the Ethnographical Museum of the above-named institution.t 

The ancient roadway from Pen Dinas camp to the shore seems 
to have led from the old entry into the defences, which is situated 


1 In Meyrick’s Cardiganshire (1810) a bronze ornamented palstave is figured, 
which was found on Pen Dinas Hill, Aberystwyth, 


48 SOME ANCIENT DEFENSIVE EARTHWORKS 


on the south-east (facing the modern village of Penparke) some- 
where near the 300-foot contour-line along the east. It bisects 
the pathway from Trefechan to Pen Dinas, and continues for 
some distance in a north-north-westerly and then in a north- 
westerly direction, and, though lost in one place, and partly 
masked for the greater part of its course by the modern hedge 
that has been built along its outer border, it is on the whole very 
distinct. Near the bottom of the slope, this old way is to be seen 
for a short distance quite unaltered, and deeply worn below the 
general level of the ground. Its present shoreward termination 
lies between the neolithic chipping-floor and the fishing village 
of Trefechan. 

Before the draining of the marsh on which much of the present 
town of Aberystwyth has been built, one of the outlets of the 
Rheidol, though perhaps not the main one, was situated near 
the southern slope of Constitution Hill, Aberystwyth. The river 
reached it apparently by way of Plas Crug, Alexandra Road and 
Queen’s Road. Both the Rheidol and the Ystwyth have been 
diverted near their outlets in order to form a harbour for ships. 
It must be remembered that, probably long into neolithic times, 
a Tow land with mounds and pools may have existed seaward 
of the present mouths of these two rivers. The shallows and 
pools of brackish water thus formed would teem with various 
species of estuarine fish, and these, together with the other pro- 
ducts of the shore, would form an important source of food-supply 
to the inhabitants using the camp. The food-supply and the 
flint and chert supply, together with the defensive position, would 
give Pen Dinas a considerable importance in early times. 

It can scarcely be doubted that Pen Dinas was in either con- 
stant or intermittent use later than the Roman occupation, and 
the roadway from the interior (with its mineral wealth, which 
was known and used in quite early times), may have been even 
then much used. This roadway is controlled by the fortress. 
It may in those early times have been the old roadway along the 
east of the fortress described above. Its importance may also 
have been in a measure connected with the importance of the 
site of the Wig-y-Gwyddel landing-place, as already shown. 

In all times the essential needs of mankind have been the 
same, and the earthworks, whether they are late or early, whether 
in use intermittently or constantly, must have had some com- 
munication with each other. It has been observed that cattle 


SOME ANCIENT DEFENSIVE EARTHWORKS = 49 


in search of water often wear lanes down hillsides, or when seeking 
fresh pasture naturally follow the brow or crest of a hill, where 
in early times the forest would tend to be less dense, owing to 
natural reasons which need not be discussed here. Man, subject 
to the same conditions, would follow a similar course. Many 
important ridgeways which must have had such a beginning are 
yet to be found, and many of the later hillside roads have had a 


- similar origin, their main function being that of cross-linking 


the downhill tracks. ‘The camps were probably not entirely self- 
contained, and trade between them in the few necessaries of these 
early times, such as flint, salt, and perhaps skins, and later metals, 
must certainly have commenced at a very remote period indeed. 
Trade means communication, which would generally follow the 
upland ways, though sometimes forced to cross valleys. A 
cogent reason for believing in the antiquity of many of the present 


_ roadways is that it can scarcely be fortuitous that many of the 


earthworks are in such close proximity to these ways, or else 
connected with them by tracks which often seem to bear the 
impress of some antiquity. 

On examination, the map of the Aberystwyth region reveals 
the fact that not only the present roads, but also the important 
medieval ways, and many of the ancient ridgeways within a 
considerable area, seem to converge on Aberystwyth, Llanbadarn 
Fawr, or Pen Dinas. If such is really the case, probably Llanba- 
darn was their chief objective in the middle ages, but earlier it 
would have been either Pen Dinas itself or the shore near the 
fortress. 

A few of the more noteworthy of these ridgeways may now 
be mentioned. One of the finest is that which leads from the high 
moorland east of the fine hill-fortress of Darren, past the camp, 
and is continuous with a roadway running in the valley. Another 
ridge roadway, coming from the moorland of the high plateau 
in the east, passes a small and simply defended ringwork—it can 
scarcely have been intended for military purposes—situated about 
a mile east of Penrhyn-céch. 

These ways are all situated north of Aberystwyth : to the 
south the same hypothesis seems to hold good, the antiquity of 
some of the present lines of the roads being attested by the earth- 
works, pre-Roman and Norman, situated on or near them. The 
road from Aberystwyth to Devil’s Bridge (Pont ar Fynach) 


_ follows in the main the precipitous left side of the Rheidol Gorge, 


VOL. II. D 


50 SOME ANCIENT DEFENSIVE EARTHWORKS 


and the O. 8S. map of the district records two earthworks as 
occurring near its course. One of these camps is that situated 
in a fir-wood on the Old Warren Hill, slightly north-west 
Nant-Eos ; the other? is placed on a hill situated about a mile 
west-north-west of Devil’s Bridge, and just above Rhiwfron 
Station. All these camps, as well as the Pen Dinas earthwork, 
are probably more or less intimately connected with the road- 
ways. Vegetation is generally sparse on Pen Dinas, owing to its 
exposure to the sea winds, though the terraces are covered with 
bracken during the warmer months, while much scrub grows on 
the northern and western slopes of the hill. Woodland may once 
have covered the landward slopes to some extent. Springs and 
ponds exist at several points near the defences—on the south, 
west, and east. | 

Several ‘ caerau ’ are visible from the enclosure, among them 
being Allt-Goch camp, Broncastellan, Daren, Bwa-drain (near 
Rheidol Falls), ete. 

The remarks relative to Pen Dinas must be regarded as being 
of a somewhat tentative character, as it is impossible to speak 
authoritatively until the site has been carefully examined. It is 
to be hoped that parts of the earthwork may be excavated under 
adequate supervision in the near future, when valuable results 
might reasonably be expected. Some approximate dimensions 
of the Pen Dinas site are given below :-— 


Area of camp, 104 acres. 
Greatest length, N.N.E. and 8.8.W., 1400 feet. 
Greatest height of eastern escarpments, lower 20-22 feet, 


upper 16 feet. 
Greatest breadth of terraces on east, lower 54-60 feet, upper 


40 feet. 


1¢Camp’ above Rhiwfron Station, near Devil’s Bridge. This so-called 
‘camp’ is, in the opinion of the writer, a purely natural formation. It sur- 
mounts a steep and narrow hog-backed ridge running in approximately a north- 
south direction, and situated near the main road from Aberystwyth to Devil’s 
Bridge. The ridge slopes steeply down to Rhiwfron Station, on the southern 
bank of the Rheidol. When seen against the sky-line from Devil’s Bridge 
Station, this supposed earthwork presents a striking picture, and resembles a 
steep-sided mount defended by a deep fosse, the whole appearing as though in 
section. However, a closer view is disappointing, and the two vertical cleavages 
across the summit of the rocky ridge, which isolate a central rocky portion—that 
which has the semblance of a mount when viewed from a distance,—can scarcely 
have been intended as fossae. Considered in relation with the hill, it seems 
improbable that the formation can be an artefact. 


eI a ns! altel 


SOME ANCIENT DEFENSIVE EARTHWORKS 51 


DARREN CONTOUR CAMP, NEAR Cwm Symioc, ABERYSTWYTH 
(Fie. 2) 


THE fine contour fortress of Darren is distant about six miles east- 
by-north of Aberystwyth, and surmounts the long, narrow ridge 
between Nant Silo on the north and the Afon Peithyll on the 
south. The highest point reached within the enclosure is 961 
feet above sea-level. To the east of this earthwork lies the wild 
moorland country of the western side of Plynlimmon, and in its 
more immediate vicinity are numerous lead workings, all of which 
are now disused. From the moorland a path leads westward 
near the summit of the ridge, and passes close by the southern 
confines of the Daren fortress. This roadway is probably one of 
the finest local examples of a ridgeway, and must be of consider- 
able antiquity. It leads on to the bottom of the slope where, 


near the farm of Cefn-IlWyd, it passes immediately north of 


Castell Stradpeithyll, a Norman castle-mount, which is situated 
on the Afon Peithyll near this place. The hill-road here terminates 
in the valley roadway, which leads on to Llanbadarn via the 
Waun Fawr, as already stated. 

The camp itself is remarkably well preserved, and its western 
vallum forms a conspicuous feature against the skyline; it is 
visible from a great distance. The defences have been built 
around a knoll that rises above the ridge. The slope of the ground 
outside the camp is steep on the north and south, in fact the 


northern declivity is precipitous. The well-preserved western 


vallum reaches a height of twenty feet above the bottom of the 
fosse, which is still traceable in the north-west. Near the foot 
of the inner face of the rampart much soil, which was doubtless 
used in building the breastwork, has been removed. Outside the 
eastern vallum there is a slight, and probably natural, terrace, 
beyond which there is a short but abrupt slope down to what 
appears to have been marshy land at no very remote date. The 
outer slope of the north-east and eastern vallum is steep, and its 
height here is about 20 feet. On the south its outside height is 12 
feet. Breaches through the vallum are found in the west and south- 
east of the defences, and of these the latter may be regarded as the 
old gateway. The circumference of the vallum is approximately 
800 feet. Bracken, gorse, and scrub are almost absent from the 
enclosure of the Darren earthwork. Water exists near the de- 
fences, from which a wonderful view of the surrounding country 


52 SOME ANCIENT DEFENSIVE EARTHWORKS 


and of the sea is obtained. The small circular earthwork near 
Penrhyn-céch is visible on the northern side of the Nant Silo 
valley, while the almost obliterated defences of another small 
contour camp surround a hilltop near Goginan-fach. This latter 
camp is so badly mutilated that it has been found impossible to 
make a reasonably accurate plan of its defences. 


AuLt-GocH ConTOUR CAMP, NEAR TALYBONT, ABERYST- 
WYTH (Fa. 3) 


AtLt-GocH contour camp is situated upon a portion of the ridge 
of high land that forms the steep, wooded right bank of the Afon 
Leri beteween Talybont and Dol-y-Bont. The camp is roughly 
one mile as the crow flies from Talybont. The ridge which the 
camp defends is slightly over three hundred feet above sea- 
level. 

The defences are much worn, and portions of the camp have 
been extensively quarried. Two sloping terraces, the lower of 
which is fairly broad, defend the north-eastern side of the camp. 
These commence near the entry, which is situated in the north- 
east, and they eventually merge into the single slight scarp that 
forms the protection along the south-east: this scarp, although 
it has been somewhat altered to form a hedge, probably forms a 
part of the original scheme of defence. Rock outcrops at several 
places within the enclosure, and along the summit of the enclosure 
there is a long, rocky ‘ sill,’ running in a north-easterly and south 
westerly direction. Much quartz occurs mingled with this stone. 
Remains of the two lines of valla that once defended the north- 
east of the earthwork may still be discerned, and the old entry 
into the camp passes through them. 

This camp is situated on Allt-Gédch farm; it commands an 
extensive view of the Leri valley, Borth, and the sea. Water 
exists at one or two places within a short distance of the site. 
A hillside roadway passes close to its north-eastern confines, and 
leads in the direction of Dol-y-bont, near Borth. 

Caer Lletty-llWyd is situated due east of this camp, on n the left 
bank of the Leri, and is overlooked by it. Other ancient military 
earthworks in the vicinity are Caer Pwll-glas and the Norman 
motte and bailey fortress of Castell Gwallter, which commands the 
approach to the coastal plateau at Llanfihangel-geneu’r Glyn. 


SOME ANCIENT DEFENSIVE EARTHWORKS 53 


PLATEAU CAMP, BRONCASTELLLAN, Bow STREET, 
ABERYSTWYTH (Fic. 4) 


Kast of the village of Bow Street, Aberystwyth, a hill rises fairly 
steeply to a height of five hundred feet, and its south-western 
slope is thickly wooded. On the summit of this hill, overlooking 
its south-eastern and steepest slope, is placed a rather large 
plateau camp. Although much of the hilltop has now been 
reclaimed, some of it is still given over to the gorse and bracken 


which formerly covered much of its surface, and this wilder 


portion faces towards Clarach Valley and the sea. A small pond 
exists near the north-east of the site. The height of the outer 
face of the vallum along the west of the camp is between eleven 
and twelve feet above the bottom of the fosse, which is still 
traceable here for some distance. All along this western side, 


_ just within the vallum, and running parallel to it, there is a banked 


hedge. This has probably been built of earth removed from the 
vallum, and this would explain the latter’s weakness along this, 
the most assailable portion of the defences. The old gateway 
into the camp is placed in the north-west, and before it has been 
built a large mound or ‘screen’ for its better protection. This 
screen has been erroneously recorded as a tumulus on the ord- 
nance survey maps. Other breaches in the vallum exist in the 
north and east, the latter being possibly a sally-port, while the 
former is certainly of modern date. The outer face of the vallum 
along the east is from eighteen to twenty feet high. 

The area of the Broncastellan earthwork is roughly 24 acres, 
almost the whole of which is thickly overgrown by gorse, scrub, 


and trees, causing great difficulty in the accurate planning and 


description of the site. Among camps visible from the Bron- 
castellan fortress are those of Allt-Géch, Darren, the small ring- 
work near Penrhyn-céch, ete. To the north-east of Broncastellan 
is an ancient trackway now forming for some distance the side 
of a field. From the trackway a lane, still in use, and, judging 
from its banks, of some antiquity, leads down towards the valley 
in which the village of Bow Street lies. From the junction of 
lane and trackway, a modern country road occupies the central 
part of the latter for a while, but farther on the trackway follows 
a very direct course along a low ridge. Finally, it mounts up the 
side of the Leri Valley, above Elerch, without reaching the very 
exposed ridge, and it can thence be followed right on to the high 


54 SOME ANCIENT DEFENSIVE EARTHWORKS 


moorlands. Of its great age in some parts there can be little 
doubt. It is interesting to note that two great blocks of white 
quartz stand or lie near it about halfway between Broncastellan 
and an earthwork (Pen-y-Castell contour camp) near the edge 
of the moorland. These blocks may be merely erratics, but in 
the case of one this seems unlikely. If they have been placed 
there by man, nothing is known as to their date or meaning. 
Similar blocks occur elsewhere (e.g. near Caer Fawr, ‘Trawscoed) 
in some connection with earthworks and trackways. 

Broncastellan is one of the most westerly of the earthworks, 
a sort of outpost of the others, and an outpost towards Pen Dinas, 
in the neighbourhood where the ridgeways were forced to leave 
the ridges projecting from the open moorland above the valley 
woodland and swamps. 


LLETTY-LLWYD ConTouR CAMP, NEAR TALYBONT, 
ABERYSTWYTH (Fic. 5) 


CazR LLETTY-LLWYD is situated on the western and most gently 
sloping side of Cynull-Mawr, a mass of high land which attains 
a height of upwards of 1000 feet in Ffynnon-wared, 14 miles away 
to the south-east. . 

The camp is about a mile south-south-west of Talybont. 
The mass of rising ground, some 34 miles in area, is practically 
encircled by important roads, and is bounded on the east, north, 
and north-east (where another contour camp overlooks the edge 
of the plateau) by the Afon Leri, and on the south by a small 
tributary of the Clarach stream. Outside the defences of Caer 
Lletty-llwyd, on the south and south-east, a small stream, 
Nant Groglwyd, has cut a fairly deep gorge, and the slope into 
which the lower rampart merges here forms the bank of this 
stream. East of the caer, which has been built just below the 
300-foot contour line, the ground rises fairly sharply to Argoed 
fawr, which is over 800 feet. 

The ground on which this earthwork stands is of such moderate 
elevation that much of it must have been formerly covered with 
trees in prehistoric times. From this fact, together with its 
unusual and somewhat elaborate defences, and its apparent 
connection with an ancient hillside roadway, we may reasonably 
suppose this camp to be of somewhat later date than some of the 
other earthworks described in this account. ‘The ancient hillside 


SOME ANCIENT DEFENSIVE EARTHWORKS — 55 


roadway just mentioned is conceivably Roman, as will be stated 
hereafter. It runs parallel with the modern road for some dis- 
tance, but is lost in the present highway near Talybont, though it 
reappears beyond the village. In plan the Lletty-llwyd camp is 
almost circular, with two terraces (on the east there appear to be 
traces of a third terrace), which have been formed by scarping 
the hillside. From the north, along the east towards the south, 
the vallum that formerly defended the lower terrace is still intact, 
and at the north-east, where it is best preserved, it still rises 
9 feet above the floor of the terrace, from the inside. In the west 
and south the vallum has been obliterated, and the lower terrace 
slopes away to the road and the brook. Advantage has been 
taken of the shape of the ground to the east of the camp to form 
a large pond: this pond may possibly be ancient. The old entry 
into Caer Lletty-Ilwyd is not now apparent. ‘The area is treeless. 


PLATEAU CAMP OR RINGWORK, NEAR GARTH PENRHYN- 
cécH, ABERYSTWYTH (Fic. 6) 


Tuts so-called ‘camp’ is a small and roughly circular earthwork, 
situated just beyond the western termination of the moorland, 
on the spur of high land between the valleys of Nant Salem 
on the north and Nant Silo on the south, about a mile east of 
Garth Penrhyn-coch, a small hamlet near the village of Penrhyn- 
coch, Aberystwyth. 

This earthwork can scarcely have been intended for purely 
military purposes, so simple and weak are its defences. Its con- 
struction probably post-dates that of some of the other sites 
dealt with in this account, and its chief function may have been 
that of safeguarding cattle, at a period when both wild animals 
and cattle-stealers were still numerous. Along the west the 
escarpment rises about 6 feet above the ground, and here the 
vallum has utterly disappeared. The rampart is just discernible 
in the south, its outer face reaching a height of about 11 feet. 
Along the south-east, east, and north the height of the defences 
above the level of the ground varies between 3-7 feet. What may 
be the old gateway is situated in the south-east of the site, and 
near it lies a heap of broken stone—the fragments of some large 
weathered boulders. The enclosure of this earthwork is rather 
thickly overgrown with gorse. Water does not seem to be present 
in any quantity quite near the site, but much of the ground in 


56 SOME ANCIENT DEFENSIVE EARTHWORKS 


the vicinity must have been boggy in the past, and before it was 
drained. Outside the earthwork the ground slopes away fairly 
steeply on the north, west, and south ; eastwards it rises to Pen- 
y-Garn-Wen, two miles distant. From this latter place a ridge- 
way runs along the ridge, and passing near the south of the 
Penrhyn-coch earthwork, eventually meets the valley road. 
From the earthwork at Penrhyn-coch the Broncastellan fortress 
can be seen, as well as Darren camp, to the south-west, and the 
remains of a contour camp (Pen-y-Castell) on the east-north-east. 
The height of the rmgwork above sea-level is about 400 feet. 


PuaTEAu Camp, Nant-Eos, ABERYSTWYTH (FIG. 7) 


THERE is an earthwork of rather large size, situated in a fir- 
wood on the Old Warren Hill, west-north-west of Nant-Eos, 
near Aberystwyth. It is located near the main road on the 
left side of the Rheidol Gorge, and its distance from the town 
of Aberystwyth is about three miles; it is approached from 
the road by way of the pathway to Pen-y-Cwarel farm. This 
pathway ends in a track which leads on in the direction of the 
old gateway of the camp, near which it passes over bed rock: it 
may thus be fairly old. The entry is placed on the north-west 
side of the defences. 

This plateau camp, singularly enough, does not appear to 
have been previously known as such, and it is not recorded by 
the ordnance survey maps: it was brought to the writer’s notice 
_ by Mr. Mervyn Griffith, of the U. C. W. Aberystwyth. 

The ground on the west, immediately outside the defences, 
slopes away very abruptly, while on the south and south-east 
the gradient is less steep: along the bottom of the slope flows 
the Paith Brook. The greater portion of the enclosure slopes 
away to the south, and much of it is now densely wooded, making 
its accurate planning a matter of the utmost difficulty. Conse- 
quently the plan of the site which accompanies this account must 
be regarded as subject to correction. The defences of the Nant- 
Eos site appear to be of a military character, and its connec- 
tion with the Aberystwyth-Devil’s Bridge road seems to be un- 
questionable. These facts give a certain degree of confirmation 
to the hypothesis which has already been advanced, of this road’s 
development from a ridgeway. At the north, and for some dis- 
tance along the western side of the camp, the defences consist of 


SOME ANCIENT DEFENSIVE EARTHWORKS 57 


the usual vallum and fosse; in the north the fosse is still rather 
formidable. We should naturally expect to find the artificial 
defences stronger here than elsewhere, as they protect the weakest 
portion of the scheme of defence. Along the north-east and east 
the hillside has been scarped, and there is (now) no built-up 
vallum, but a bank of earth runs along the foot of the eastern 
escarpment, becoming lost near the south-east, where the defences 
are continuous with the steep slope of the hill. On the south 
and south-west the slope becomes yet steeper, and theslight 
parapet that probably once protected the camp here has long 
since disappeared. The circumference of the defences is approxi- 
mately 800 yards. In the north the top of the vallum is still 
about 12 feet above the floor of the fosse. Near the north-east 
of the enclosure there is a rocky outcrop which forms a marked 
rise or low knoll. 


ConTouR CAMP, NEAR CAaPEL Bancor, ABERYSTWYTH (Fic. 8) 


Just to the north of the village of Capel Bangor, Aberystwyth, 
there is a ridge of high land running in an east-west direction. 
This ridge attains a height of rather more than 500 feet above 
sea-level at a place distant about one half-mile north of the church 
of this village. Here, built about a knoll, are the remains of a 
small contour camp. | 

Although the site is of moderate elevation when compared 
with that of many of the other hill-forts of North Cardiganshire, 
it is of some strategic importance, as, on the north, west, and south 
the hill slopes away rather sharply. East of the camp the ground 
is comparatively level, and here, as one might reasonably expect 
to find, the defences are better preserved than elsewhere. Such 
a vulnerable portion would call for greater strengthening by arti- 
ficial means, in order to ensure tolerable security from attack. 

The defences of this hill-fortress are in no way remarkable, 
and consist of only a single vallum, much of which has been utterly 
destroyed, largely owing to the fact that the knoll which the 
camp defends is rich in quartz, which has been extensively quarried 
in the past. Several of these stone workings are within the camp 
enclosure, and some buildings on Llwyn-lorwerth-uchaf farm 
(on which the camp is situated) have been built almost wholly of 
the material thus removed. There is now no trace of the fosse 
at any point. The highest portion of the knoll is approximately 


58 SOME ANCIENT DEFENSIVE EARTHWORKS 


near the centre of the enclosure, which is treeless, although much 
overgrown by gorse. The northern vallum is now scarcely dis- 
cernible, and the scarp, though still fairly steep, soon merges into 
the declivity of the hillside. In the north-east and east the top 
of the rampart is in places 2 feet above the area, its steep outer 
face measuring between 6-7 feet in height. The vallum has 
disappeared in the south, only the scarp now remaining, and this 
sometimes attains a height of about 5 feet above the ground. 
No trace of the western defences remain, but judging from the 
incomplete plan of the rest of the fortress, we may suppose the 
site to have been roughly circular in form. The site commands 
a wide view of the locality, and also of Pen Dinas and the sea. 
An abundant water supply exists in the form of a small stream 
which flows near the north of the camp. The old gateway of the 
camp is not now apparent, and this points to its having been 
situated in the west, the part which is destroyed. 

The road which passes near the north of the camp, running 
for a time parallel with the course of the small stream mentioned 
above, leads eastwards to what is probably an old ridgeway on 
the northern edge of the valley of the Afon Melindwr. It was 
probably connected with other important ridgeways at a remote 
period, by means of that portion of an ancient roadway (the 
‘Roman road’) which leads northwards from Capel Bangor 
towards Penrhyn-coch. Much of the land in the vicinity of this 
camp is under cultivation, which fact in itself accounts for much 
that is vague in the mention of ancient means of communication 
and their connection with the Capel Bangor earthwork. 


CaER Pw.iti-cLAs, LLANFIHANGEL-GENEU‘R-GLYN, 
ABERYSTWYTH (Fic. 9) 


CaER Pwii-GLA4s, near Llanfihangel-geneu‘r-glyn, Aberystwyth, 
must rank among the very finest examples of early military 
engineering in North Cardiganshire in several respects, such as the 
elaborate nature of its defences, and their wonderful state of 
preservation. The camp is situated towards the steep south- 
eastern slope of a small plateau, immediately north of Pont Rhyd- 
y-pennau, where the main road from Aberystwyth branches to 
Talybont and Borth wa Lianfihangel. It is placed at the summit 
of this hill, which reaches an elevation of 400 feet above sea-level, — 


SOME ANCIENT DEFENSIVE EARTHWORKS 59 


and the earthwork overlooks the road which leads on to Talybont. 
The gradient on the north and west is gentle. 

This caer is roughly circular in form, though the plan of the 
site which accompanies this article must be regarded as subject 
to correction in minor details owing to the difficulty encountered 
when surveying it; an almost impenetrable undergrowth covers 
much of the defences. The enclosure is also thickly wooded, 
and this camp is by far the most overgrown of the North Cardigan- 
shire earthworks. Its defences consist of two concentric valla, 
between which there is a well-marked fosse, which has been partly 
formed by excavation, sometimes in the solid rock—notably in 
the south-east, at the base of the escarpment of the ditch, where 
the rock has been scarped to form the fosse for a short distance. 
In the south-east the declivity of the hill is abrupt, and the 
scarp is soon lost in the slope of the hillside: in this place all 
trace of the parapet has been removed, the earth and stone of 
which it was formed having probably been washed down the 
slope by the action of rain and other destructive agencies. The 
area inclosed by the ramparts is level, except where the ground 
has been disturbed by burrowing animals, or in the removal of 
large trees: in such loose soil much stone is seen to be inter- 
mingled. The extreme length of the enclosure between north- 
west and south-east is over 300 feet. What is undoubtedly the 
original entry into the fortress is situated at the south-west, 
where the fosse is interrupted for a space of some 18 feet, thus 
forming a slightly inclined way leading into the enclosure. The 
height of the inner rampart above the area along the west and 
north is about 4 feet, while it stands about 12 feet above the 
fosse in this place. On the north-west the defences are much 
worn. Portions of the outer rampart have been incorporated in 
a modern banked hedge in the south-west. In the north-east 
the inner vallum is only slightly raised above the area, its height 
above the bottom of the fosse being 6 feet: the fosse is here 
12 feet across, the outer vallum standing from 3-4 feet above it. 
The circumference of the inner vallum is approximately 350 paces. 
Water is found near the north of Caer Pwll-glas in the form of a 
small spring. 

This camp was probably connected with an old east-west road 
which crossed the hill near the northern confines of the camp. 
The existence of this roadway may be inferred from a, portion 
which still persists for a short distance. This way seems to have 


Eee mS 


«Pes ir) wee nr et 


60 SOME ANCIENT DEFENSIVE EARTHWORKS 


terminated westwardly near what is now Llanfihangel village. 
Owing to the isolated position of the hill defended by Caer Pwll- 
glas, any communication with neighbouring heights would lead 
across valleys, but as these are for the most part narrow in the 
neighbourhood of the earthwork, they could not have proved 
very serious obstacles to communication, more especially as the 
plan of the site, its elaborate fosse, and above all its wonderful 
state of preservation, show it to be relatively later in date. 

It is interesting to note that, within a radius of 14 miles of 
Pwll-glas there are no less than four examples of early military 
engineering, namely the contour camps of Allt Goch and Lletty- 
llwyd, the Broncastellan plateau earthwork, and the Norman 
mount and bailey fortress of Castell Gwallter. 

The connection of the North Cardiganshire camps with the 
lead and copper mines of the region has been the subject of some 
speculation, and the matter is of great interest. Some of the 
workings are known to have been used during the Roman Occu- 
pation, and perhaps prior to it. The matter is a closed book, 
however, and must long continue so, although some knowledge 
bearing upon the subject might possibly be gained by the analysis 
of the composition of the locally-discovered metallic implements. 
Such finds are rare, however, and most of them appear either to 
be now widely scattered or irretrievably lost. It is easy to 
exaggerate the importance of the connection between the earth- 
works and the mines. The application of this idea should there- 
fore be limited for the present to camps which, from the moderate 
elevation of the sites which they occupy, or for other reasons, can 
scarcely be earlier than the commencement of the metallic period 
and may probably be still more recent. Such are Caer Lletty- 
liwyd, which crowns a hillock of moderate elevation, with its 
elaborate and unusual defences, and Caer Pwll-glas with its double 
circumvallation. Another feature which points to the relatively 
late date of some of the sites is the manner in which their fossae 
have been clean-cut in the rock, and to illustrate which we may 
cite as examples the Pwll-glas and Pen-y-castell earthworks, 
although the removal of the debris which now partially fills the 
ditches of most of the camps would undoubtedly yield many 


1 Texture of locally-found bronze implements. The Ethnographical Museum 
of the U. C. W., Aberystwyth, possesses two local celts, which, though differing 
from one another in colour, yet are both extremely hard, and by cursory 
examination appear to be considerably harder than other celts in the Museum. 


SOME ANCIENT DEFENSIVE EARTHWORKS 61 


others. It will be conceded that such excavation in stone—much 
of the work persists as clean-cut as at the time of its execution 
—implies the use of metallic implements. Plateau camps usually 
depend far more upon their artificial defences for protection than 
do contour camps, and their construction involves a greater ex- 
penditure of labour than such an earthwork as, say, Allt-Géch 
contour camp, which defends the summit of a ridge. Here the 
hill slopes have been simply scarped, and the debris (probably) 
used in building the sloping terraces thus formed. Where the 
gradient is slight, and this method was not practicable, the valla 
are generally simple, and show great economy of labour, and 
there seem to be few, if any, rock-cut fossae. All this evidence 
implies a more primitive mode of fortification, as it restricts the 
choice of a site to a few of the more barren or exposed hill-tops 
and their (generally) greater antiquity is often attested by the 
- more dilapidated condition of their remains. The latter fact is 
the more significant when considered in relation with their situa- 
tion, which is usually away from the present-day haunts of man, 
and generally useless for agricultural purposes. These remarks 
need some modification in the case of Allt-Goch camp, because 
some of the destruction which has been wrought within its de- 
fences is the result of the quarrying for stone within its area. 

To judge from the number of the memorials which he has left 
in the form of camps and other monuments, the district near 
Caer Pwll-glas seems to have been peculiarly suited to the needs 
of early man, and we have not far to seek to discover the reasons 
for this. In the pre-metal-using days, man was powerless against 
the primeval forest that covered most of the lowlands and much 
of the hill slopes, and was forced to dwell upon the uplands, 
choosing, whenever such were available, heights of moderate 
elevation when these were fairly free of wood. Much of the 
coastal plateau in this region seems to have been comparatively 
open from a remote period (the trees occurring on most of the 
sites are of modern planting, and are not of indigenous species), 
owing to the effect of the sea winds. The hills, despite these 
facts, provide good pasture and abundant waters. The presence 
of two important medieval (or older) roadways, namely the 
“Roman road’ and the road between Aberystwyth and Borth, 
via Wallog, near the western edge of the coastal plateau, lends 
support to this view, and the higher portions of the first-named 
way may possibly mark the upper limit of the woodland at the 


62 SOME ANCIENT DEFENSIVE EARTHWORKS 


- time of the greatest importance of the roadway as a means of com- 
munication. Therefore, as regards situation, pasture, and water- 
supply, these heights were admirably suited to the requirements 
of the small pastoral communities who built and used the camps. 
Some of them were probably stations on knolls in the woodland, 
useful in migrations from the greater moorlands down towards 
the sea beaches. 


Contour Camp, PEN-Y-CASTELL, NEAR ELERCH, ABERYSTWYTH 
(Ie. 10) 


THE remains of a small contour camp surmount a hill known as 
Pen-y-Castell, about a mile south-south-east of the village of 
Elerch (Bont-gdch), Aberystwyth. The head about which the 
defences have been built reaches a height of 800 to 900 feet above 
sea-level. The valleys on the north and south of the hill have 
been formed by the action of two small streams, that on the south, 
the Afon Stewy, being the more important, and receiving the 
water of the smaller stream just west of the caer. Below the 
earthwork on the south-east, two reservoirs have been formed 
by the damming of the Stewy brook, and these formerly supplied 
the motive power to the various lead workings in the vicinity, now 
all closed down. Hills of superior elevation overlook the camp 
on the east and south, and of these Craig-y-Pistyll, which is about 
a mile and a half east of the earthwork, is the greatest. North- 
ward the camp is afforded much protection by the ridge known 
as Banc Lletty-Evan-hén. Thus, although the western outlook is 
comparatively uninterrupted, the site, despite its altitude, is well 
sheltered. 

The defences surround the summit of the hill, and are roughly 
oval in plan; they consist of the usual vallum and fosse, both of 
which are greatly mutilated in parts. The fosse is particularly — 
interesting, as it has persisted to the present time, in one or two 
places, in a splendid state of preservation ; much of it also has 
been excavated in the rock. The highest portion of the hill is 
within the enclosure, which slopes gently away to the vallum in 
all directions. In the west the vallum is now only slightly marked, 
though the scarp is still sharp, standing about 6 feet above the 
bottom of the ditch along this side of the fortress. The fosse is 
only just discernible on the west. A modern breach exists in the 
rampart at the north-west. To the north the top of the rampart — 


. 
f 
| 


| 


| 


( 


SOME ANCIENT DEFENSIVE EARTHWORKS _ 63 


is about 2 feet above the area, its outer face sloping steeply for 
about 11 to 12 feet to the ditch, here very well defined, and 
having a depth of about 1 foot. The least mutilated portion of 
the vallum is that on the east, where it stands about 4 feet above 
the camp enclosure, and 12 feet above the floor of the fosse: the 
depth of the counterscarp of the fosse just north of east is 4 feet. 
The southern and south-eastern defences are now faint, though 
the scarp may still be followed, but it soon becomes lost in the 
general slope, which is steepest towards the south. There is a 
large depression in the south-east of the enclosure, and as the 
scarp can be traced crossing this, it may be older than the build- 
ing of the caer. The old entry into the Pen-y-Castell earthwork 
is situated just north of east, where the vallum and fosse are 
interrupted by a pathway passing through them, the former for 
a space of 15 feet, and the latter for a length of about 30 feet. 


(See also entry of Caer Pwll-glés, Fig. 9.) What appears to be 


a second gateway exists in the east-south-east of the defences, but 
this is probably recent, and perhaps marks the termination of 
the fosse in the scarped rock face in this place. The enclosure 
is treeless, and very little scrub grows near the site, while the 
surrounding heights are also practically devoid of scrub. We 
cannot assume that the whole area was bare in early times, but 
it is probable that the knolls were bare, and the hillsides near 
them more or less covered. Owing to the narrowness of the 
valleys near the Pen-y-Castell earthwork, communication with 
the old ridgeways which run along the neighbouring heights was 
probably always possible. 

Near the foot of the north-western slope, and close to the 
track which connects the camp with the ancient way that leads 
eastward along Banc Lletty-Evan-hén, there stands a large 
rectangular monolith (maen hir ?) of fine grained grit, the top 
of which is deeply scored. ‘This stone appears to bear the marks 


of considerable age, though it is difficult to imagine what its 


use could have been. The ridgeway along Banc Lletty-Evan- 


_ hén seems to connect, just south of Elerch, with one of the finest 


examples of a ridgeway in the region, and one which has retained 


_ its importance as a means of communication to the present day, 


namely the present road from Hlerch to Bow Street (Bron- 
castellan). From this roadway, near Mynydd-gorddu farm, a 
vein of quartz is visible on the southern slope of the plateau 
(Cynnull-Mawr). This quartz vein is again visible on the nor- 


64 SOME ANCIENT DEFENSIVE EARTHWORKS 


thern slope of the plateau, to the west of the contour camp known 
as Pen Dinas, Talybont, and the lode of lead seems to run parallel 
with it. When the lead workings near Elerch were in use the 
need of communications naturally gave the ridgeway a renewed 
importance as an artery of trade, and largely owing to this fact 
it was improved, and still retains its importance. At the north 
of Bow Street village a lane runs eastwards and connects with 
the ridgeway north-east of Broncastellan, which see for further 
matter dealing with this ridgeway). 

The quartz monolith, which has already been mentioned as 
occurring near the course of this ridgeway, if itis ancient, may 
have functioned as a ‘ pointer’ in the direction of Pen-y-Castell 
or as a midway or boundary stone between that and, perhaps, 
Broncastellan. A short distance west of this quartz block, 
near Pen-y-cwm, the ridgeway bisects the “Roman road’ run- 
ning along the western side of Cynnull-Mawr in the direction of 
Talybont. 


Pen Dinas Contour Camp, WAUN-Y-GWYDDEL, NEAR 
TaLyBont (Fig. 11) 


THE contour camp known as Pen Dinas, near Talybont, is built 
around a rocky knoll overlooking the steep left side of the Leri 
gorge, where this river suddenly bends and flows westwards 
towards Talybont, from which village this earthwork is distant 
about two miles east-south-east. Near the camp, and more 
especially on the west and south, the ground is boggy, and is 
known as Waun-y-Gwyddel (=‘the marsh of the Irishman’). 
Two small streams take their rise in this marsh, and flow down 
the northward slope of the hill, at the foot of which they join 
the Leri; the larger of these bears the name of Nant-y-Gwyddel. 


Near the north-east and east the declivity becomes very abrupt. 


The rocky knoll, enclosed by the defences, stands out from the 
marsh at this extremity of the plateau, and a height of over 
900 feet O. D. is attained at the rocky summit of the knoll, which 
may perhaps be termed the citadel of the caer. The long axis of 
the defences is orientated north and south. The defences are 
much worn, and it is a matter of no small difficulty to define just 
where the artificial defences merge into the natural slopes. An 
inner scarp and steeply sloping terrace surrounds the rocky 


citadel, though the existence of this terrace along the west is 


—— 


a ie 


a 


SOME ANCIENT DEFENSIVE EARTHWORKS 65 


somewhat doubtful. This inner defence still carries a slight 
rampart in the north. The scarp becomes somewhat indistinct 
in the west, below the citadel, and it seems to have been streng- 
thened here by the addition of another small scarp, which slopes 
away to the marsh beneath. Adjoining the northern end of the 
main defences, there is another and smaller crescent-shaped 
enclosure, defended by a well-preserved scarp and rampart. A 
second scarp and (also sloping) terrace extends along the eastern 
side of the knoll or citadel, at the south of which its outer margin 
carries a high rampart, which defends the eastern side of the 
gateway into the camp, and its western flank is safeguarded by 
a similar rampart. Faint indications of yet a third terrace are 
discernible to the south-east of the citadel. From the entry in 
the south, a causeway of earth and stones extends across the 
marsh (here very wet) for a short distance in roughly a southerly 
direction. This causeway meets some ridges of drier ground. 
Trackways across the plateau, which is even now of a wild and 
savage character, and has probably always been treeless, pro- 
bably connected the caer with various ridgeways, such as that 
between Pen-y-Castell and Broncastellan (q.v.) and also with the 
“Roman road,’ which leads along the western foot of the plateau 
on which the caer is placed. 

Where the valla have been mutilated they are seen to be 
composed largely of stone. Quartz abounds near the site, and 
evidence of the search for lead exists in the form of trial pits. 
The ramparts are rather overgrown with scrub in places. The 
situation occupied by this interesting and peculiar earthwork 
is of great strategic importance, and its natural and man-made 
defences combine to make the position one of great strength. 
Its occupation may well date from very early times, and as its 
name of * hill-city ’ or ‘ hill-refuge ’ would lead us to suspect, its 
final abandonment is, relatively speaking, not a matter of very 
many centuries, and thus the name may be a fairly clear case of 
‘folk memory.’ Near the entry, and slightly west of the cause- 
way leading up to it, two silver coins were discovered some thirty 
years ago by a woman peat-digger. They were subsequently 
disposed of to an Aberystwyth resident, the woman receiving 
ten shillings from the transaction. Since then all trace of them 
appears to have been lost. 


VOL. 1. a 


66 SOME ANCIENT DEFENSIVE EARTHWORKS 


‘Y Domen-Las,’ 4 Mount AnD BaILEY FortTRESS, YSGUBOR- 
Y-COED, NEAR BorrtH (Fic. 12) 


THE well-preserved mount and bailey fortress known as ‘ Y Domen- 
Las’ (=the green mound) is situated near the water’s edge on 
the left bank of the Afon Dyfi (River Dovey), where the river 
suddenly bends northwards before it empties itself into the head 
of the Dovey Estuary. The site is distant about one mile north 
of Ysgubor-y-coed (Eglwys-fach), from which village it is ap- 
proached by the road which, crossing the Einion brook, connects 
near Plas Ynys-hir with another way that runs for some distance 
in a northerly and southerly direction along the side of a ridge: 
this way has the appearance of having been used for a consider- 
able period. It terminates, after crossing the railway by a 
bridge over a cutting, in a track leading to within a short distance 
of the site of the Domen-Las castell. The fortress is placed at 
the northernmost extremity of the more easterly of the two 
rocky ridges which rise above the marsh, and run parallel with 
each other in the direction of the river. The marsh, though 
probably never very treacherous here, defends the fortress along 
the east and west. The ridge on which this earthwork is placed 
is everywhere below 50 feet O. D. A ford across the Dovey seems 
formerly to have existed near the north-east of the site, on the 
testimony of the old Welsh chronicles, and although the river is 
now too wide to be fordable in this place, it is probably here that 
a crossing would be attempted. Therefore we cannot doubt that 
this castell was built here in order to safeguard the crossing, which 
owed much of its importance to its nearness to the old road- 
way between Ysgubor-y-coed, Talybont, Penrhyn-coch and Capel 
Bangor. ‘This is the northernmost portion of the so-called 
‘Roman road,’ which follows the western side of Foel-fach and 
Moel y Garn between Ysgubor-y-coed and Talybont. It can be 
traced southward past Capel Bangor practically to the Sarn 
Hlen at Liedrod. The Domen-Las castell consists of a mount 
and bailey of the usual shape, though their preservation is some- 
what remarkable. The fosse which surrounds the motte has 
been formed partly by excavation in the north-east and west, 
while at the south it is enclosed by a built-up vallum, the height 
of which varies between 2 to 4 feet above the floor of the ditch. 
This vallum has been obliterated in the south-east, and a recently- 
formed breach has been made through it in the north. The 


SOME ANCIENT DEFENSIVE EARTHWORKS 67 


circumference of the summit of the mount is approximately 
40 paces, its height above the ditch being about 16 to 18 feet. 
As is so frequently found to be the case in Welsh examples of the 
mount and bailey type of fortress, the earthwork has been built 
about an outcrop of rock. The fortifications are orientated 
north-east and south-west, the north-eastern end of the base- 
court thus overlooking the river. A remarkable feature is found 
in the south-east of the fosse, where a narrow neck of rock, which 
has been cut on its northern face, connects the bailey with the 
mount. This is the more noteworthy as it really forms a weak 
point in the defensive scheme, and it is an interesting speculation 
as to whether the defences of this castell were ever finished as 
originally planned, because it appears fairly obvious that the 
moat. was intended to surround the mount completely. The 
bailey measures about 30 yards extreme length, its greatest 
breadth being nearly 18 yards. Its scarp is still fairly distinct, but 
no traces remain of the vallum that once defended its edge. 
The whole earthwork is somewhat overgrown by trees and scrub. 
The old chronicles seem to attribute the building of the 
Domen-Las fortress to Cadell and his brothers Maredudd and 
Rhys, the sons of Gruffydd ap Rhys, who in 1151 were striving 
for the possession of North Cardiganshire. They secured the 
whole of Penweddig shortly after this date, and Rhys, upon 
hearing rumours in 1156 of a threatened invasion by Owain 
Gwynedd, built a fortress near Glandovey and the old ford across 
the river. This is identified with Domen-Las. The ‘ building’ of 
Maredudd and his brothers may, however, simply mean that he 
rendered defensible an already existing mount and bailey fortress. 
Tt seems unlikely that a people so thorough as the Normans had 
left such an important place as the so-called ford across the 
Dyfi unguarded, and this castell may be yet another of the Strong- 
bow chain of fortresses in North Cardiganshire, the site of some of 
which remain unknown. When the fortress at Ystrad Meurig, 
Aberystwyth (Tan-y-Bwlch), Llanfihangel Geneu’r-glyn, etc., 
were built the seat of the Welsh power lay temporarily north of 
the Dyfi, and Domen-Las, if built by the Normans, not only 
guarded a vital point, but also acted as the northernmost ‘ ten- 
tacle’ to the others, being constantly in touch with any hostile 
movements of the Welsh of Gwynedd (North Wales). 


The surveying of these earthworks has been much facilitated 


68 SOME ANCIENT DEFENSIVE EARTHWORKS 


by the generous permission and assistance given by Sir Edward 
Webley Parry Pryse, Bart., Mr. E. A. L. Powell, Mr. D. H. Owen, 
Mr. Griffith Jones, Mr. Arthur Morgan, Mr. Edwards and others, 
while Mr. F. Hutchings of Southgate, Penparke, has supplied 
valuable information on several occasions. Mr. C. L. Walton, 
Mr. L. E. Sulston, Mr. Mervyn Griffith and Mr. J. Ll. Jones— 
all of the University College of Wales, Aberystwyth, and Mr. D. 
Rees Davies of Aberystwyth, have helped with the surveying 
work. To all these my best thanks are due. 


The literature consulted includes :— 

Atucrort, A. Haprian, Harthwork of England. Macmillan, 1908. 

ARMITAGE, Mrs. Etia, Harly Norman Castles of the British Isles. 
Murray, 1912. 

Evans, Evan, History of Aberystwyth, N. U. T. Souvenir, 
Aberystwyth, 1911. 

Evans, Sir Jonn, Ancient Bronze Implemenis of Great Britain and 
Ireland. Longmans, 1881. 

FLEURE, Professor H. J., The Human Geography of Cardiganshire, 
N.U.T. Souvenir. Aberystwyth, 1911. 3 

FLEURE, Professor H. J., Welsh Archeology and Anthropology.— 
Archeologia Cambrensis, April 1913. : 

Jounson, W., Folk Memory. Clarendon Press, 1908. 

Lewis, Dr. EK. A., The Medieval Boroughs of Snowdonia. Sotheran, 
1912. 

Lioyp, Professor J. E., A History of Wales, Longmans, 1911. 

THomAS, Rocser, A Prehistoric Flint Factory Discovered at Aber- 
ystwyth—Archeologia Cambrensis, April 1912. 

Wricat, F.S., Pen Dinas, Aberystwyth. W elsh Gazette, September 
26th, 1912. 

Wricut, F. 8., Norman Earthworks near Aberystwyth.—Abery- 
stwyth Studies, 1912. 


Norr.—After writing the article Mr. Richard Elles, M.A., called my atten- 
tion to the list of camps or caers in Peniarth ms. 118. Pendinas is there called 
Castell Maylor, and Tanybwlch camp (see Aberystwyth Studies, i. p. 121) is 
called Castell Cornippin. Other castles mentioned as being in Cardiganshire 
are Castell Grugyn, in the parish of Llanilar, Bwha, near Llanbadarn-fawr, 
Edwyn, probably Castell Odwyn in Llanbadarn Odyn, and Garwed, near Strata 
Florida. 


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WHITMAN AND VERHAEREN 


Walt Whitman, auquel il faut toujours revenir quand il s’agit.de Verhaeren, bien 
que celui-ci—disons-le expressément—ait accompli une évolution pareille 
mais tout a fait indépendante.’—Streran Zweie, Emile Verhaeren, p. 147. 


INTRODUCTION 


Wuitman and Verhaeren are considered by the younger generation 
of Continental poets as the twofold source of inspiration in con- 
temporary poetry. And if of the two influences that of Emile 
Verhaeren is as yet the more deeply felt in France, the young poets 
of Germany have a cult for Whitman which is reflected in the 
most vigorous productions of contemporary German poetry. It 
is, therefore, not surprising that the finest appreciation of Emile 
Verhaeren, coming from the pen of a young German poet, should 
dwell upon the constant resemblances between the visionary of 
Belgium and the American prophet-poet. 

Moreover, these resemblances in thought and expression are 
sO numerous and frequently so striking as to suggest the idea of 
a more or less definite influence. Buta close study of the question 
reveals the truth of Stefan Zweig’s conclusion, quoted above, 
which we accept for two excellent reasons. First, we confess that 
the length of our comparison has but too often prevented us from 
touching upon the vast dissimilarities which exist between certain 
phases of the two poets’ work, and which are not so evident in 
their ideas or even in their art—although Verhaeren is undeniably 
a greater artist than Whitman—as in the treatment similar sub- 
jects get from the hands of two writers whose mental outlook is 
often profoundly different. In the second place, not only have 
we been unable to find any one in France to support the idea of 
Verhaeren’s debt to Whitman, but the Belgian poet himself 
assured us that the suggestion was groundless, explaining that he 
was no linguist and could not read Whitman in the original. And 
as M. Bazalgette’s complete translation of Leaves of Grass did not 
appear in France till 1909, Verhaeren had already written the 


greater part of his work before Whitman became intelligible to 
71 


72 WHITMAN AND VERHAEREN 


him, except perhaps through a few renderings made from time 
to time in French reviews. 

In comparing the work of these two writers, we must note 
at the outset a fundamental dissimilarity which will in no wise 
interfere with the comparison, though it must modify our methods 
of treatment. The work of Verhaeren is an evolution in itself. 
His first volumes are examples of the purely objective art of the 
Parnassians. The trilogy which follows deals with the personal 
theme of his own sufferings and is more and more symbolic in 
style. After this personal phase, Verhaeren becomes for the next 
few years the poet of Socialist aspirations, the prophet of the new 
industrialism ; while his last volumes, the most important of all, 
no longer deal with the world in its isolated manifestations : they 
endeavour to enclose the universe in a new law. A corresponding 
development is traceable in the form of these works. The rigid 
metres of the Parnassian period give way to the free verse of the 
Symbolists. In the hands of Verhaeren this becomes the purely 
personal medium in which the majority of his works are written. 
Finally, there appears a marked tendency to revert to the classical 
alexandrine. 

The poetry of Walt Whitman shows no such evolution. In 
his thoughts as in his modes of expression, it is not possible to 
find any strongly marked progress. So that while it is per- 
fectly legitimate to speak of the poetic evolution of Verhaeren, 
the same terms cannot be applied to Whitman. Having admitted 
this difference, we shall endeavour to show that Verhaeren’s 
evolution was a development in the direction of Whitman whom 
he finally surpasses as a ‘ singer of the modern.’ 


WHITMAN AND VERHAEREN 73 


CHAPTER I 


WHITMAN AND VERHAEREN AS NATIONAL POETS 


I heard that you asked for something to prove this puzzle, 
The New World, 
And to define America, her athletic Democracy, 
Therefore I send you my poems... 
WuitMman, ‘To Foreign Lands.’ 


Je suis le fils de cette race 
Tenace 
Qui veut aprés avoir voulu 
Encore, encore, et encore plus ! 
Races d’Hurope et des soudaines Amériques, 
Ma race ! 
VERHAEREN, Les Forces tumuliueuses. 


In considering together Whitman and Verhaeren, it is at once 


evident that they are, so to speak, poetic anomalies: they are 
alike in being unlike most other poets. And their importance 
lies in the fact that they are great not by the standards and virtues 
of the past, but because they have rebelled greatly and conquered. 
Yet that which distinguishes them from the vast majority of poets 
unites them more closely to one another. Both have chosen as 
themes, not any of the so-called ‘ poetical subjects,’ but the world 
as it is to-day, the world of commerce and industry, of democracy 
and science. But apart from this modern, universal aspect of 
their work, each finds in the development of his country a source 
of inspiration which offers many points of similarity. 

As young as America, Belgium is still adolescent and feels the 
joy of newly-acquired strength. As in America, the mixture of 
peoples and the fertility of the soil have engendered a superb and 
powerful race. Walt Whitman was the cry of America, at last 
conscious of her power. Verhaeren proclaims the triumph of the 
Belgian—the European race. Each is the first adequate singer 
of hiscountry. For this audacious task, both poets were by nature 
equally well equipped. Each embodies his country’s two main 
sources of character: French and Flemish in the case of the 
Belgian poet, English and Dutch in that of the American. More- 

1 Of the Belgian poet, M. Léon Bazalgette says: ‘ Un Verhaeren ne peut étre 
jugé que d’aprés cet unique étalon : lui-méme.’—Hmile Verhaeren, p. 8. Burroughs 
came to the same conclusion concerning Whitman: ‘We can make little of 


Whitman unless we allow him to be a law to himself and seek him through the 
clews he himself brings ’"—Whitman, p. 9. 


74 WHITMAN AND VERHAEREN 


over, their composite characters were moulded by similar environ- 
ments: both combine, ina striking manner, a whole-hearted worship 
of nature with a love of ‘populous pavements.’ They have given 
the people—their needs and aspirations—a primary place in their 
works. Verhaeren truly loves the life of the humble. Though he 
belongs by birth to the middle-classes, his sympathy for the lowest 
in the social scale enables him to transform the commonplace 
details of their life into poems of extraordinary beauty and tender- 
ness. He is one of them, says Zweig, and they feel their nearness 
to him. 

Even more justly has it been said that Whitman was of the 
people, the common people, and always gave out their quality and 
atmosphere. 


I advance from the people in their own spirit," 


he declares in his first poem. The importance attached to the 
life of the peasant, and the interest shown in the routine of his 
daily employment offer one of the few points of similarity between 
Verhaeren’s first volume Les Flamandes and Whitman’s work. 
This interest in the common needs of humanity increases and 
intensifies in Verhaeren’s later volumes,? and culminates in the 
collection entitled Toute la Flandre, which, although not the 
masterpiece of Verhaeren’s genius, seems to realise in striking 
detail, Whitman’s ideal of a modern epic in which the poet cele- 
brates every aspect of his country’s life. 

Verhaeren’s second volume, Les Moines, is noteworthy as 
containing the germs of an idea which was to be a dominant theme 
of the finished work of both poets. In the monks, Verhaeren 
celebrates the last of the romantics. He loves them as ‘ cher- 
cheurs de chiméres sublimes.’ 2 But he sees their uselessness in 
the life of to-day. It is the poets who are to be the priests of the 
future. It is ‘les poétes venus trop tard pour étre prétres > who 
will preach the new religion of humanity. Ali forms of ecclesias- 
ticism will vanish before this glorious faith of man in himself. 


Car il ne reste rien que lart sur cette terre 
Pour tenter un cerveau puissant et solitaire 
Kt le griser de rouge et tonique liqueur. 


1 «Starting from Paumanok,’ Leaves of Grass, vol. i. p. 21: references to Leaves 
of Grass, in three volumes, edited by Bucke, Harned, and Traubel, published by 
Putnam’s Sons, 1902. 

2 e.g. Les Campagnes hallucinées, Les Villages iliusoires, editions of the Society 
of the Mercure de France. 3 Aux Moines, Les Moines. 


WHITMAN AND VERHAEREN 75 


In this magnificent anthem to poetry, Verhaeren begins to 
return from the Middle Ages and to face the world of to-day and 
to-morrow. 

The idea that poets are to be the priests of the future is one that 
recurs throughout Whitman’s work. Religion must be liberated 
from ecclesiasticism. It must be consigned to democracy and 
literature: ‘It must enter into the poems of the nation.’! As 
in a dream Whitman foresees a new race of poets, ‘ varied, yet one 
in soul—nor only poets, but newer larger prophets—larger than 
Judea’s and more passionate.’ 2 Under the spell of these new and 
powerful feelings, poetry is conceived of as a duty, a mission, no less 
important than religion. ‘In its highest aspect,’ says Whitman, 


“essential Poetry expresses and goes along with essential Re- 


ligion.’? And gradually verging toward the goal reached by the 
American prophet-poet, Verhaeren relinquishes the narrow natural- 


istic point of view for the ideal of the identification of poetry with 


religion. 

In Les Flamandes and Les Moines Verhaeren paints the two 
most opposite pictures of his country’s life. But it seems as if 
the poet’s sympathies had to be deepened and broadened by 
personal suffering ere he could awaken to a full revelation of the 
life of his country and of the world of to-day. It is with the grim 
trilogy of Les Soirs, Les Débdcles, and Les Flambeaua noirs, that 
the greatness of Verhaeren begins. There is not the faintest 
resemblance between the drear pessimism of these volumes and 
the unfaltering optimism of Whitman’s work, but they must be 
mentioned as showing the first indications of Verhaeren’s use of a 
new method of writing, which, however much removed from 
Whitman’s lawless line is based on similar principles. These are 
indeed poems of torment. - But in them the poet has finally 
abandoned the position of the purely external observer. The old 
beauty, the old delight in the past have been abandoned. The 


1 Complete Prose (Appleton, 1910), p. 271. 

* Ibid, p. 291. Cf. Democratic Vistas: *‘ Viewed to-day from a point of view 
sufficiently over-arching, the problem of humanity all over the civilised world is 
social and religious and is to be finally met and treated by literature. The priest 
departs, the divine literatus comes.’—Jbid., p. 200. 


3 Ibid., p. 524. 
4 A poem in Les Débdcles (1888) entitled ‘ La-bas’ marks in its first part 
Verhaeren’s transition to free verse. ‘ Les Flambeaux noirs’ are written in free 


verse—at least as free as Verhaeren has ever written. His ‘ vers libre ’ is peculiar 
to himself, and he has employed this strictly personal form throughout the majority 
of his works. 


76 WHITMAN AND VERHAEREN 


poet’s Catholic faith, his conception of his country, and of the world 
have all been annihilated in the disaster these poems depict. But 
in 1891, Verhaeren published Les Apparus dans mes chemins, at 
the end of which comes a wonderful lyric to ‘Saint Georges.’ 
The vision of Saint George is the triumph of action over passivity 
in Verhaeren’s soul, and marks the beginning of a sublime con- 
fidence in the future. It is really here that the resemblance be- 
tween Verhaeren and Whitman commences. For the intimacy 
between the poet and the external world, which is henceforth 
the secret of Verhaeren’s power, is essentially characteristic of 
Whitman. : 

Step by step Verhaeren’s development tends towards the 
serenity of Whitman’s outlook. The latter is pre-eminently the 
poet of democracy. Verhaeren, too, becomes for the next few 
years the poet of Socialism, first in Les Campagnes hallucinées 
(1893), followed in 1894 by Les Villages illusoires. The intention 
realised in the latter volume is to choose, as heroes, the ordinary 
work-people, the poor artisans and labourers of the Flemish 
villages and to magnify them into types of humanity. In magni- 
fying the average man, Verhaeren not only attaches himself to the 
tradition of Meunier, Millet, and Rembrandt, he also adopts an 
art truly democratic and modern. There are few better instances 
of the close kinship between him and Whitman. For it was 
essentially Whitman’s purpose to extol the average man; and 
a strong resemblance in this respect has frequently been pointed 
out between him and Millet whose pictures he greatly admired.* 

In Whitman the common man has grown haughty, almost 
aristocratic. He is Whitman’s hero. ‘ There is no trade or em- 
ployment,’ he says, ‘ but the young man following it may become 
a hero.» Common occupations are one of his favourite themes. 
He sings the joys of the farmer, woodman, mason, or engineer. 
For Whitman these ordinary employments have a divine signifi- 
cance: he wishes to ‘teach the average man the glory of his daily 
walk and trade.’ Nay the common man is himself divine; for 


Never was the average man more like a God. 


1 See With Walt Whitman in Camdem, passim. 

2 “Song of Myself,’ Leaves of Grass, vol. i. p. 105. 

3 “Song of the Exposition,’ Leaves of Grass, vol. i. p. 245. 

4 «Years of the Modern’ (Song of Parting), Leaves of Grass, vol. il. p. 272. 


WHITMAN AND VERHAEREN 77 


CHAPTER II 


THE NEW BEAUTY 


Mightier than Egypt’s tombs, 
Fairer than Grecia’s, Roma’s temples, 
Prouder than Milan’s statued, spired cathedral, 
More picturesque than Rhenish castle-keeps, 
We plan even now to raise, beyond them all, 
Thy great cathedral, sacred industry, no tomb, 
‘A keep for life for practical invention. 
WuiTMAN, ‘ Song of the Exposition.’ 


Untit the time of Whitman and Verhaeren, it was a common- 
place to talk of the dangers which industrialism and democracy 
impose upon art. For most poets, the new creations of industry 
-—engines, railways, gigantic cities, the telegraph, and telephone— 
have arrested the production of poetry. Ruskin headed a cam- 
paign against them, calling for the destruction of factories and 
the suppression of their stacks and chimneys. But a radical and 
almost violent change in this respect is indicated by Whitman— 
a change which is in unison with many things in modern life and 
morals, but which fairly crosses the prevailing taste in poetry. 
Whitman’s ideal poet possesses to an eminent degree the power 
of seeing beauty in new and unlikely objects.t ‘ The true Poet,’ 
he says, “is not the follower of beauty, but the august master of 
beauty,’* and his mastery consists in commanding and causing 
things which were not before considered beautiful to become so. 
It was unconsciously yet precisely the work of Verhaeren to com- 
plete the transvaluation of the poetic element begun by Whitman. 
After his long isolation, he suddenly awakens to feel the full force 
which emanates from society, and to conceive a poetry which 
draws its inspiration from the cities, inventions, and social forces 
of our day. His sublimest achievement, says Zweig, was the 
discovery of the new beauty which is enclosed in new things. 
One of his finest poems in this style describes a journey by train : 


1 * Fach precise object or condition or combination or process exhibits a beauty 
—the multiplication table its—old age its—the carpenter’s trade its—the grand 
opera its—the huge-hull’d, clean-shap’d New York clipper at sea under steam or 
full sail gleams with unmatch’d beauty—the American circles or large harmonies 
of government gleam with theirs—and the commonest definite intentions and 
actions with theirs.—Whitman, Complete Prose, p. 263. 

2 “Song of the Answerer,’ Leaves of Grass, vol. i. p. 205. 


78 WHITMAN AND VERHAEREN 


Et le lent défilé des trains funébres 

Commence, avec ses bruits de gonds 

Kt lentrechoquement brutal de ses wagons, 
Disparaissant—tels des cercueils—vers les ténébres. 


Des cris !—et quelquefois de tragiques signaux, 

Par au-dessus des fronts et des gestes des foules, 
Puis un arrét, puis un départ,—et le train roule 
Toujours avec son bruit de fers et de marteaux. 


La campagne sournoise et la forét sauvage 
S’absorbent tout & coup en leur nocturne effroi ; 
Kt c’est le mont énorme et le tunnel étroit 
Et la mer tout entiére, au bout du long voyage. 


A quotation from Whitman’s poem, ‘To a Locomotive in 
Winter,’ ? will reveal at once some essential points of resemblance 
and dissimilarity. Though Whitman, too, finds the esthetic 
aspect of his subject, his optimism will not allow him to see 
anything frightful or tragic in the departure of a train. To him 
the engine speeding over the snow-steeped prairies is a thing of 
beauty and delight. 


Fierce-throated beauty ! 

Roll through my chant with all thy lawless music, thy swinging lamps 
at night, 

Thy madly-whistled laughter, echoing, rumbling like an earthquake, 
rousing all, 

Law of thyself complete, thine own track firmly holding 

(No sweetness debonair of tearful harp or glib piano thine), 

Thy trills of shrieks by rocks and hills return’d, 

Launch’d o’er the prairies wide, across the lakes, 

To the free skies unpent and glad and strong. 


Both poets see beauty in energy and character rather than in 
harmony. They prefer the modern to the antique, our great 
industrial centres to such towns, beloved of the Muse, as Rome 
and Florence. Verhaeren’s delight is to participate in the energy 
of the crowds that throng our great thoroughfares. 

En ces villes d’ombre et d’ébéne 
D’ot s’élévent des feux prodigieux ; 
En ces villes ou se déménent, 


Avec leurs pleurs, leurs chants, et leurs blasphémes, 
A grande houle, les foules ; 


1 «Plus loin que les gares, le soir,’ La multiple Splendeur. 
2 “From Noon to Starry Night,’ Leaves of Grass, vol. ii. p. 254. 


~ WHITMAN AND VERHAEREN 79 


En ces villes soudain terrifiées 

De révolte sanglante et de nocturne effroi, 
Je sens grandir et s’exalter en moi 

Et fermenter, soudain, mon cceur multiplié.t 


And just as the Belgian poet identifies himself with the feverish 
soul of the town, so the American ever claims identity with all the 
manifestations of industrial life around him : 


Factories, machinery, the mechanical forces, the windlass, lever, 
pulley, all certaintes .. . 


Cities, labours, death, animals, products, war, good and evil—these 
me.* 


But Whitman cannot compare with Verhaeren as a singer of 
modern towns. He cries loudly and frequently that they shall 
be ‘ in his poems,’ but nowhere does he treat them so exhaustively 
as Verhaeren does in his epic of Oppidomagne, Les Villes ten- 
taculaires. Moreover, the outlook of the two men is different. 
Verhaeren is an optimist only in regard to the future: the present 
does not commend itself to him, in fact, he often seems incapable 
of seeing the good that is in it. Even when he is most deeply 
stirred by the vision of activity and energy revealed in our great 
centres of commerce and industry, he is never unconscious of the 
gloom, oppression, and misery associated with them. His point 
of view is adequately expressed in two lines from Les Villes : 


Le siécle et son horreur se condensent en elles 
Mais leur ame contient la minute éternelle. 


_ Whitman, on the other hand, is a thorough-going optimist, and 
his optimism cannot be impeached on the grounds that he did not 
know the worst sides of society, or the reality of suffering. All 
manifestations of modern life inspire him by what they are as 
well as by what they lead to. In his first poem, he says he ‘ will 
show there is no imperfection in the present and can be none in 
the future.’ ° 

Another difference between the two poets is that while Whit- 
man is a democrat, Verhaeren is a Socialist. In the strict sense 
| of the term it is hard to justify calling either a social reformer. 
| If Whitman is to be considered a reformer, it is only in the very 


| 1 «La Foule,’ Les Visages de la Vie. 
2 ‘Our old Feuillage,’ Leaves of Grass, vol. i. pp. 211, 212. 
8 * Starting from Paumanok,’ Leaves of Grass, vol. i. p. 25. 


80 - WHITMAN AND VERHAEREN 


widest sense. He himself counsels the reader of his Democratic 
Vistas to ‘ bear in mind that they are not the result of studying 
up in political economy, but of the ordinary sense, observing, 
wandering among men, these States, these stirring times of peace 
and war.’ Verhaeren, however, has a more direct relation to the 
social movements of our time. It was Socialism that acted as a 
stimulant upon him when he was recovering from the spell of a 
prolonged state of morbid introspection. Since then, obedient to 
the vision revealed to him by his efforts, he has turned them into 
poetry, raising them above politics and the present to the rank of 
great events which affect the whole of humanity. 

Among poets he is perhaps the only one whose sensibility is 
in keeping with the spirit of our days. There lies all his merit. 
He is stirred to the depths by the problems of the masses ; he has 
understood the significance of the new social formations, the great- 
ness of mechanical production ; in a word, the poetry of material 
things. Here once again he joins issue with Whitman who declares 
in his first poem : 


T will make the poems of material things, for I think 
they are to be the most spiritual poems. 


The volumes of Verhaeren’s Socialist period contain many 
ideas which are also found in Whitman’s writings. But beside 
this, there is, between the two poets, a rapprochement in the way 
these ideas are expressed. This is revealed in a similarity of 
devices of style rather than in the adoption, on Verhaeren’s part, 
of anything analogous to the actual form of Leaves of Grass. Here 
again, as ever in this comparison, it is the case of an underlying 
principle being grasped by both poets, but developed according 
to the natural bent of each. 

Modern lyric poetry has a tendency to revert to the character- 
istics of primitive poetry.*? It does not confine itself to the solitary 
appeal of soul to soul, but often addresses the crowd. Nietzsche 
in Germany, Hugo in France, Whitman in America, have made 
this wider appeal. The latter spoke of Leaves ef Grass as a ‘ new 
and national declamatory expression,’ and of his three adjectives 
the latter is the most weighty. ‘ Not to apprehend Leaves of Grass 


1 ‘ Starting from Paumanok,’ Leaves of Grass, vol. i. p. 20. 

2 ‘The poets have passed from the lyric to a grander, more harmonious epic 
structure, midway between speech and song, where both thought and passion find 
their common home.’—0O. L. Triggs, Browning and Whitman, p. 132. 


WHITMAN AND VERHAEREN 81 


as a man speaking is to miss its purport.’ To-day Verhaeren 
is the greatest representative of this tendency. His poems pro- 
duce the same effect as an orator’s speech.? Certain images 
return continually ; numerous adjectives are repeated and the 
reader feels himself urged on by the poet’s stirring exclamations. 
This ejaculatory style of writing is notoriously characteristic of 
Leaves of Grass, and a comparison of passages from this point of 
view brings out some striking resemblances. Verhaeren has 
written nothing more typically Whitmanian in form than 


Son or ailé qui s’enivre d’espace, 

Son or planant, son or rapace, 

Son or vivant, 

Son or dont s’éclairent et rayonnent les vents 
Son or que boit la terre 

Par les pores de sa misére, 

Son or ardent, son or furtif, son or retors 
Morceau d'espoir et de soleil—son or ! 3 


The device illustrated in this passage is exaggerated in almost 
all Whitman’s longer poems, which present the appearance of long 
paragraphs of lines of various lengths, all beginning with the same 
word or words : 


Land of coal and iron! land of gold! land of cotton, sugar, rice ! 
Land of wheat, beef, pork! land of wool and hemp! land of the apple 
- and the grape! 

Land of the pastoral plains, the grass-fields of the world ! 
land of those sweet-air’d interminable plateaus ! 

Land of the herd, the garden, the healthy house of adobie ! 

Lands where the north-west Columbia winds, and where the south-west 
Colorado winds ! 

Land of the eastern Chesapeake ! land of the Delaware ! 4 


Such a passage is also a fair illustration of Whitman’s ‘ catalogue 
style.’ The same love of enumeration is characteristic of Ver- 
haeren : 


- Voici les cargaisons chargeant les vieux pavés, 
Et des ballots de laine échoués dans la boue, 
Kt des ponts tout a coup jusqu’au ciel soulevés, 
Ht des tournoiements fous de chaines et de roues, 


1 Bliss Perry, Walt Whitman, p. 89. 

2 Whitman (in translation) and Verhaeren’s poems are frequently recited to 
assemblies of French and Belgian workmen. 

3 «Le Banquier,’ Les Forces tumultueuses. 

4 © Starting from Paumanok,’ Leaves of Grass, vol. i. p. 27. 


VOL, IT. F 


82 WHITMAN AND VERHAEREN 


Et des Malais bronzés et des Arabes blancs, 

Et leurs cris gutturaux et leurs chansons barbares, 
Kt leur travail rapide ou leurs pas indolents 
Autour des bricks légers et des lourdes gabarres.+ 


A poem entitled ‘ Le Chaland ’ ? bears a close resemblance to 
some of Whitman’s, not only in the above-mentioned devices, 
but in the tendency to introduce a string of local names as 
Whitman does in ‘ Our Old Feuillage’ : 


Otherwise there atwixt the banks of the Arkansaw, the 
Rio Grande, the Nueces, the Brazos, the Tombigbee, the 
Red River, the Saskatchawan, or the Osage, I with the 
Spring waters laughing and skipping and running. 


Here is a verse from Verhaeren’s poem : 


Quai du Miroir, quai du Refuge 
A Bruges ; 
Quai des Bouchers et quai des Tisserands 
A Gand ; 
Quai du Rempart de la Byloque 
Quai aux Sabots et quai aux Loques 
Quai des Carmes et quai des Récollets 
Il vous connait. 


CHAPTER III 


THE COSMIC POEM 


I chant the world on my Western sea 
Wuitman, ‘A Broadway Pageant 


> 
° 


Réunir notre esprit et le monde 
Dans les deux mains d’une trés simple loi profonde 
VERHAEREN, ‘ |’Attente. 


3 


THoueH Verhaeren has given the current world of commerce and 
industry the most striking poetic revelation of itself in Les Villes 
tentaculaires, his thought had greater heights to reach. In Les 
Visages de la Vie he has magnified the eternal forces: joy, 
strength, activity, enthusiasm. In Les Forces twmultueuses he has 
sung the mysterious union which pervades all forms of reality ; 


1 “L’or,’ Les Rythmes souverains. 2 Les Villes & pignons. 


WHITMAN AND VERHAEREN 83 


in La multiple Splendeur the ethical role of admiration; while 
Les Ryihmes souverains gives the world its most august ideal 
in the struggle of man to reach divinity and free himself from 
the sway of chance and the supernatural. These works are full 
of a magnificent optimism which bears the poetry of Verhaeren 
infinitely beyond the bounds of literature into the realms of philo- 
sophy and religion. Dealing no longer with things but thoughts, 
he endeavours to give a metaphysical idea of the universe, to 
realise the cosmic poem : 


Son coeur grandi avait changé a un point tel 
Quil ne s’angoissait plus que des forces profondes 
Qui font d’un coeur humain le coeur méme du monde.! 


Once again Verhaeren realises in a remarkable manner, Whit- 
man’s ideal as expressed in Democratic Vistas: ‘The culmination 


_ and fruit of literary expression are in metaphysics. . . . Standing 


on this ground and sternly criticising all works either of literary 
or any art, we have peremptorily to dismiss every pretensive pro- 
duction, however fine its esthetic or intellectual points, which 


‘violates or ignores, or even does not celebrate, the central divine 


ideal of All, suffusing universe, of eternal trains of purpose, in the 
development . . . of the physical, moral, and spiritual cosmos.’ ? 
It has been said that the modern world could be reconstructed 
from Leaves of Grass, so compendious and all-inclusive is it in its 
details. Its author is ‘ Walt Whitman, a Kosmos.’? Like 
Verhaeren, he discovers the laws underlying the manifestations 
of the natural universe, being mainly occupied with the universal 
side of things, and the human and spiritual values that may be 
extracted from them. In a word, the goal of his endeavour is the 
cosmic poem, for he ‘ will make poems, songs, thoughts with re- 
ference to the ensemble.’* Addressing the poets of the future 
he asks, ‘ Why not fix your verses henceforth to the gauge of the 
round globe?’ ‘I would inaugurate international poems,’ he 
continues, ‘I have thought that both in patriotism and song we 
have adhered too long to petty limits and that the time has come 
to enfold the world.’> He himself strives to obey the loftiest 
command a poet has ever heard : | 

1 ‘Tes Attirances,’ Les Rythmes souverains. 

2 Complete Prose Works, p. 242. 

8 “Song of Myself,’ Leaves of Grass, vol. i. p. 62. 

4 

5 


‘Starting from Paumanok,’ Leaves of Grass, vol. i. p. 25. 
Complete Prose Works, p. 290. 


84 WHITMAN AND VERHAEREN 


Come, said the Muse, 
Sing me a song no poet yet has chanted, 
Sing me the universal.t 


Whitman and Verhaeren are lyric poets, yet they have not 
limited themselves to domains of pure lyricism, but have animated 
all forms of literature with the ardent breath of their inspiration. 
They are lyric poets in the higher sense of being men for whom 
everything becomes a source of lyrical emotion and who are in 
communion with the universal soul of things. The spirit of one 
of Verhaeren’s finest poems is that in which the masterpieces of 
both have been conceived : 


Mais quand il travaillait ,sous la lampe, le soir, 
Ivre de ses calculs, fiévreux de ses conquétes, 

Et que le monde entier lui battait dans la téte 
Avec ses docks, avec ses ports, avec ses mers, 
C’était le rythme immense et clair de lunivers 

Qw il sentait s’exalter, jusqu’au fond de ses moelles ; 
O les pdles, les équateurs et les étoiles, 

Comme ils gelaient, brilaient et s’éclairaient en lui 
Et comme, en son cerveau, chantait leur infini ! 2 


To vitalise the universe with poetic thought and joyous en- 
thusiasm is the rare arid lofty ideal of both poets; rare because it 
distinguishes them from the mass of modern poets who infuse their 
verse with griefs, longings, or perplexities of their own hearts. 
Stefan Zweig sees in Verhaeren a poet of daylight as contrasted 
with our modern poets who exult in darkness. In happy oblivion 
of his first gloomy vision of the world, Verhaeren now pours forth 
his contempt for ‘les lamentables fous’ who blunder into suicide 
when they possess 

deux yeux divins, deux yeux 


Pour voir, la-haut, la merveille des cieux 
Et, sur terre, la douce et fervente lumiére.® 


Unlike Verhaeren, Whitman was ever a poet of daylight for the 
good reason that he had sunshine in his soul : 


Dazzling and tremendous, how quick the sun-rise would kill me, 
Tf I could not now and always send sunrise out of me.4 


‘Song of the Universal’ (Birds of Passage), Leaves of Grass, vol. i. p. 276. 
‘Les Attirances, Les Rythmes souverains. 

‘Les Souffrances,’ La multiple Splendeur. 

‘Song of Myself,’ Leaves of Grass, vol. i. p. 65. 


- © DO 


WHITMAN AND VERHAEREN 85 


And now that Verhaeren, too, has attained a clearer vision of 
the world, his glance penetrates the cause beneath the appearance, 
and his increasing knowledge of the laws that regulate the universe 
enables him to grasp a supreme principle, a cosmic law : 


Toute la vie, avec ses lois, avec ses formes 
—Multiple doigt noueux de quelque main énorme— 
S’entr’ouvre et se referme en un poing: lunité.t 


The end of knowledge is to discover the supreme law of the 
universe, and the goal of our striving to live by that law : 


Kt senivrer si fort de Vhumaine bataille 


Qu’on vit en tout ce qui agit, lutte ou tressaille 
Et qu’on accepte avidement, le coeur ouvert 
L’apre et terrible loi qui régit |’ univers.” 


Here more than ever do the two poets see eye to eye with one 
another. Whitman’s ideal poets, the poets of the Kosmos, 
‘advance through all interpositions and coverings and turmoils 
and stratagems to first principles.’ ? They must have ‘a perfect 
sense of the oneness of nature.’ Moreover, ‘ the whole universe 
is absolute Law. Freedom only opens entire activity and licence 
under the law. . . . Great, is the Will, the free Soul of man! 
At its greatest, understanding and obeying the laws, it can then 
and then only, maintain true liberty. For there is to the highest, 
that law as absolute as any, the Law of Liberty . . . the fusion 
and combination of the conscious will, or partial individual 
law, with those universal, eternal, unconscious ones, which 
run through all time, pervade history, prove immortality, give 
moral purpose to the entire objective world, and the last dignity 
to human life.’ 4 


For him I sing 

I raise the present on the past .. . 

With time and space I him dilate and fuse the immortal laws 
To make himself by them the law unto himself.° 


But both poets perceive that there is an external element, an 
obstacle to the supremacy of man in the universe. This element, 


1 “La Conquéte,’ Les Forces tumultueuses. 

2 “La Vie,’ La multiple Splendeur. 

3 Complete Prose, pp. 263, 264. 

4 Ibid, pp. 331, 332. 

* “Tnscriptions,’ Leaves of Grass, vol. i. p. 9. 


86 WHITMAN AND VERHAEREN 


which is opposed to the development of humanity, is, for Verhaeren, 
the domination of nature, the subjection of man to Fate, in a word 
the Deity who overrules man. The struggle of man to win his 
independence is the great metaphysical conception which proceeds 
from the work of Verhaeren : 


L’homme dans l’univers n’a qu’un maitre lui-méme, 
Et l’univers entier est ce maitre, dans lui. 


The idea of man as master of himself and the universe is one of the 
main themes of Whitman’s writings : 


Me imperturbe, standing at ease in Nature, 
Master of all.? 


Likewise, he calls upon his readers to be masters in their own 
right ‘ over Nature, elements, pain, passion, dissolution.’? For, 
he says, ‘I only am he who places over you no master, owner, 
better, God, beyond what waits intrinsically in yourself.’ Whit- 
man’s idea of God is, to say the least, indistinct. In a striking 
poem entitled ‘ Gods’ he says: 


Thou, thou, the Ideal Man, 

Fair, able, beautiful, content, and loving, 
Complete in body and dilate in spirit 

Be thou my God.* 


But in the same poem, he also makes death, ‘all great ideas,’ 
‘aught of mightiest,’ his gods. Verhaeren’s idea would be almost 
as vague, but for the fact that, even more often than Whitman, 
he makes God ‘le Dieu qu’est toute ame humaine.’ And if it 
cannot be said of Whitman with the same confidence as of Ver- 
haeren that his final conception of the universe excludes the idea 
of any other god save man, he is frequently seen to make man of 
more importance than God to himself : 


Nothing, not God, is greater to one than one’s-selfis . ... 
Nor do I understand who there can be more wonderful than myself.® 


Whitman’s ideal is ‘ to be indeed a God!’ ° In his last volume 


1 “La Ferveur,’ La multiple Splendeur. 

2 “Inscriptions,’ Leaves of Grass, vol. i. p. 12. 

3 “To You’ (Birds of Passage), Leaves of Grass, vol. i. p. 286. 
4 “ By the Roadside,’ Leaves of Grass, vol. i. p. 30. 

® “Song of Myself,’ Leaves of Grass, vol. i. p. 105. 

8 ‘Song of Joys,’ Leaves of Grass, vol. i. p. 221. 


WHITMAN AND VERHAEREN 87 


the ideal is reached: he realises himself to be divine and 
exclaims : 
To be this incredible God I am !1 


But how is man to arrive at this final mastery of himself and 
the universe? WVerhaeren has seen that in reaching out toward 
Divinity, man’s first step must be to rid himself of the sway of 
chance and the-supernatural. To triumph over fate and to sub- 
stitute for its caprices the law of our own will is the grand effort 
which is to be ours in the future. But in this point, too, Verhaeren 
has been forestalled by Whitman who declares : 


Henceforth I ask not good fortune, I myself am good fortune.? 


In his first preface, he proclaims man supreme over all the forces 
and vicissitudes of the world around him and adds: ‘ The whole 
theory of the supernatural and all that was twined with it or 
educed out of it, departs as a dream. What has ever happen’d— 
what happens and whatever may or shall happen, the vital laws 
inclose all. . . . It is also not consistent with the reality of the 
soul to admit that there is anything in the known universe more 
divine than men and women.’ 3 
Both poets unite in proclaiming man master of his fate. 

Verhaeren maintains that his pride will endow him with sufficient 
strength for building his own destiny. In fact, Verhaeren joins issue 
with Frederick Nietzsche in proclaiming the superman. Yet here 
again the case is one of parallelism rather than influence. It was 
Georges Brandes, the Danish critic, who first mentioned Nietzsche’s 
name to Verhaeren,‘ and at that time the latter had already hailed 
the new Christ who is to turn the misery of the present-day 
‘Oppidomagne ’ into the prosperity of the Millenium-City : 

Et qwimportent les maux et les heures démentes, 

Et les cuves de vice ou la cité fermente, 

- Si quelque jour, du fond des brouillards et des voiles 

Surgit un nouveau Christ, en lumiére sculpté, 

Qui souléve vers lui ’humanitée 

Kt la baptise au feu de nouvelles étciles.® 


Whitman’s ideal was the average man. But it was to be a 
“divine average’, and, as has been shown, Whitman makes him 


1 “Song at Sunset,’ Leaves of Grass, vol. i. p. 279. 

2 “Song of the Open Road,’ Leaves of Grass, vol. 1. p. 177. 
3 Complete Prose, pp. 261-263 passim. 

4 On the evidence of the poet himself. 

5 © L’Ame de la Ville,’ Les Valles tentaculaires. 


88 WHITMAN AND VERHAEREN 


almost arrogant and aristocratic. Again, as if in agreement with 
the German philosopher, he cries, ‘ Produce great individuals, the 
rest follows.’1 And in his first poem Whitman, too, puts the 
trumpet to his lips and cries : 


I announce the great individual fluid as Nature, chaste, affectionate, 
compassionate, fully arm’d.? 


Thus over and above many dissimilarities of standpoint and 
phraseology, both poets seem once more to be tending towards the 
same goal. Verhaeren has expressed his ideal in the new Christ : 


le tranquille rebelle 
Que les siécles auront subtilement forme, 
Pour découvrir, a coups d’audace et de génie, 
Les mots qui recélent toute harmonie 
Kt réunir notre esprit et le monde 
Dans les deux mains d’une trés simple loi profonde.? 


Whitman’s Poet, the true son of God, is to perform the same 
task : | 


Finally shall come the poet worthy that name, 

The true son of God shall come singing his songs. 

Then not your deeds only, O voyagers, O scientists and inventors, shall 
be justified 

All these hearts as of fretted children shall be sooth’d 

All affection shall be fully responded to, the secret shall be told, .. . 

The whole earth, this cold, impassive, voiceless earth, shall be com- 
pletely justified ... 

Nature and Man shall be disjoin’d no more, 

The true son of God shall absolutely fuse them.* 


CHAPTER IV 


SCIENCE AND THE FUTURE 


- peser, jauger et définir 
Se confondant comme une flamme, dans la lumiére 
Et la lucidité qui seront l’avenir. ; 
VERHAEREN, La Science. 


In the tremendous struggle with fate and the supernatural, all 
men who conscientiously toil and strive, whether their scope be 
1 ‘By Blue Ontario’s Shore,’ Leaves of Grass, vol. ii. p. 108. 

2 “So Long !’ Leaves of Grass, vol. li. p. 288. 
3 
4 


‘L’Attente,’ Les Visages de la Vie. 
‘ Passage to India,’ Leaves of Grass, vol. i. p. 191. 


WHITMAN AND VERHAEREN 89 


large or limited, are soldiers fighting for the affranchisement of 
humanity : 


Heros, savant, artiste, apotre, aventurier, 

Chacun troue a son tour le mur noir des mystéres. 
Kt grace a ces labeurs groupés et solitaires, 

L’étre nouveau se sent l’univers tout entier.! 


In the front rank of those who have devoted themselves to 
enlarging the circle of our knowledge, stand the scientists. Ver- 
haeren is perhaps the only modern poet who has succeeded in 
raising science to the level of poetry ; though it is only necessary 
to consider what Whitman says in his first preface to be convinced 
of the kinship of the two poets: ‘ Exact science and its practical 
movements are no checks on the greatest poet, but always his 
encouragement and support. . . . The sailor and traveller, the 
- anatomist, chemist, astronomer, geologist, phrenologist, spiritualist 
mathematician, historian, and lexicographer, are not poets, but 
they are the law-givers of poets, and their construction underlies 
the structure of every perfect poem.’ 2 ‘ The words of true poems,’ 
he says elsewhere, ‘ are the tuft and final applause of science.’ 

The works of both poets furnish abundant examples of ‘ the 
entire revolution made by science in the poetic method,’ and no 
better instance can be given than the way in which they unite in 
making men of science the saints of a new religion. 


A worship new I sing, 
You captains, voyagers, explorers, yours, 
You engineers, you architects, machinists, yours . . . 8 


These lines from Whitman find an echo in Verhaeren’s hymn 
to ‘ La Science.’ 4 


Quwils soient sacrés par les foules, ces hommes 
Qui scrutérent les faits pour en tirer les lois. 


Whitman expresses his personal views on this subject in a passage 
which reveals the beginnings of that new religion so grandly 
proclaimed in Verhaeren’s last volumes: ‘ With science the old 
theology of the East, long in its dotage, begins evidently to die 
and disappear. But (to my mind) science—and may be such will 
1 “Vers le futur,’ Les Villes tentaculaires. 
2 Complete Prose, p. 262. 


3 “ Passage to India,’ Leaves of Grass, vol. 11. p. 187. 
4 Les Forces tumultueuses. 


90 WHITMAN AND VERHAEREN 


prove its principal service—as evidently prepares the way for One 
indescribably grander—Time’s young but perfect offspring—the 
new theology—heir of the west—lusty, loving, and wondrous 
beautiful.?1 
After his appeal to the artist, scientist, scholar, prophet, 

Verhaeren sings of the merchant, captain, adventurer—all those 
who are planning the conquest of the world at the hands of 
civilisation. And lastly he calls to the workers in a superb poem 
to labour entitled ‘ L’Effort,’ which surges with the same enthu- 
siasm as inspired Whitman’s ‘Song of Occupations,’ celebrating : 

All occupations, duties, broad and close, 

Toil, healthy toil and sweat, endless, without cessation.” 


All this labour is directed toward a mighty consummation, the 
fashioning of a new world : 


recréer les monts et les mers et les plaines 
D’aprés une autre volonté.? 


Or as Whitman puts it: 


Fresh come to a new world indeed, yet long prepared, 

I see the genius of the modern, child of the real and ideal, 

Clearing the ground for broad humanity, the true America heir of the 
past so grand, | 

To build a grander future. 


This lofty vision imposes upon the poet a noble but severe 
responsibility. He has to write for the future, to explain to his 
descendants the hopes and efforts of the men of his day. Ver- 
haeren has realised this responsibility. To the men of coming 
centuries he addresses one of his finest poems, never doubting 
that they will be anxious to listen to him : 


Celui qui me lira, dans les siecles, un soir, 

Troublant mes vers, sous leur sommeil ou sous leur cendre, 
Kt ranimant leur sens lointain pour mieux comprendre 
Comment ceux d’aujourd’hui s’étaient armés d’espoir, 


Quw’il sache, avec quel violent élan, ma joie 

S’est, a travers les cris, les révoltes, les pleurs, 

Ruée au combat fier et male des douleurs 

Pour en tirer Pamour, comme on conquiert sa proie.® 


1 Complete Prose, p. 271. 

* “Song of the Exposition,’ Leaves of Grass, vol. i. p. 246. 

3 “L’Effort,’ La Multiple Splendeur. 

4 “Song of the Redwood Tree,’ Leaves of Grass, vol. 1. p. 256. 
5 “Un soir,’ Les Forces tumultuecuses. 


WHITMAN AND VERHAEREN 91 


Once again, the comparison with Whitman comes into pro- 
minence. It has been said that Whitman’s chief significance is 
prophetical. He, too, projects himself into the life of generations 
to come and feels his responsibility to them : 


I am with you, you men and women of a generation or ever so many 
generations hence .. . 
I considered long and seriously of you before you were born.! 


From the first Whitman had a strong faith in the future 
fame of his poems.2 He even goes a step further and imposes 
a duty upon the poets of the future to whom he looks for justi- 
fication : 


Poets to come! orators, singers, musicians to come! .. . 
_ Arouse! for you must justify me.® 


With this glorious idea of a goal which may be unattainable, 
but must be striven for with all one’s energies, Verhaeren con- 
ceives of life as an ever upward march : 


La vie est &4 monter et non pas a descendre.* 


In this ascent, Verhaeren finds not only the true meaning, but the 
real joy of life. Whether the goal will ever be reached or whether, 
when attained, it will come up to man’s expectation, are questions 
of no significance. Effort is more than attainment, struggle more 
than victory : 


I] faut vouloir ’épreuve et non la gloire.® 


Hence, those who, through no fault of their own and after years 
of conscientious toil, have failed in the object of their efforts, 
are not really beaten. To them Verhaeren cries wtih Whitman, 
‘ Vivas! to those who have failed ! ’ 6 

‘Vivre pour s’en aller!’ Such is the motto which urges 
Verhaeren to strive for the sake of striving and to awaken his 


1 “Crossing Brooklyn Ferry,’ Leaves of Grass, vol. i. p. 129 and p. 196. 
See projected through time, 
For me an audience interminable.— 
‘ Starting from Paumanok,’ Leaves of Grass, vol. i. p. 17. 
$ “Inseriptions,’ Leaves of Grass, vol. i. p. 15. 
4 “Les Réves,’ La multiple Splendeur. 
5 “La Joie’ Les Visages de la Vie. 
® «Song of Myself,’ Leaves of Grass, vol. i. p. 55. 


92 WHITMAN AND VERHAEREN 


fellow men to ‘ l’action qui sauve et qui délivre,’ with such stirring 
appeals as : 


Partons quand méme, avec notre 4me inassouvie, 
Puisque la force et que la vie 
Sont au dela des vérités et des erreurs.! 


This is the true spirit of Whitman. His tireless appeals to his 
fellow-men to tramp with him the highway of life and to know 
the universe itself as a road for travelling souls, were inspired 
by the same impulse as prompted the ‘ vivre pour s’en aller!’ 
of Verhaeren : 


Allons ! through struggles and wars ! 

The goal that was named cannot be countermanded. 

Have the past struggles succeeded ? 

What has succeeded ? Yourself? Your nation? Nature ? 

Now understand me well—it is provided in the essence of things that 
from any fruition of success, no matter what, shall come forth 
something to make a greater struggle necessary. 

My call is the call of battle, I nourish active rebellion. 


CHAPTER V 


PANTHEISM 


My spirit has passed in compassion and determination around the whole 
earth.— WHITMAN, ‘Salut au Monde !’ 


L’homme respire et sur la terre il marche seul 
Il vit pour s’exalter du monde et de lui-méme. 
VERHAEREN, ‘ Les Cultes,’ Les Forces twmultueuses. 


THe final metaphysical ideal to which Verhaeren has attained 
is the unity of life. When interviewed on his poetic programme, 
he referred to this idea in these words: ‘ La poésie me semble 
devoir aboutir prochainement a un trés clair panthéisme. De plus 
en plus les esprits droits et sains admettent l’unité du monde. Les 
anciennes divisions entre l’ame et le corps, entre Dieu et univers, 
s’effacent. L’homme est un fragment de l’architecture mondiale. 
Il a la conscience et l’intelligence de l’ensemble dont il fait partie.” 
1 ‘Erreur,’ Les Forces tumultueuses. 


2 “Song of the Open Road,’ Leaves of Grass, vol. i. p. 189. 
8 “Le Cardonnel et Vellay,’ La littérature contemporaine (1905) 


WHITMAN AND VERHAEREN 93 


This was one of Whitman’s dominant ideas from the beginning. 
In ‘ Starting from Paumanok,’ he declares : 


Behold the body includes and is . . . the soul. 


‘ He treats the body and soul as one,’ says Burroughs. But for 
Whitman the soul is everything : 


Was somebody asking to see the soul ? 
See your own shape and countenance, persons, substances, beasts, the 
bees, the running rivers, the rocks and sands. 


The sublimest pantheism suffuses the works of both poets. 
With Verhaeren pantheism attains its highest expression. He 
is not content with communicating with the external world, with 
seeing himself reflected in it : he lives the life of the universe : 


J’existe en tout ce qui m’entoure et me penetre. z 


This truth which the Belgian poet grasps in a moment of 
ecstatic vision is revealed to Whitman by a less sudden, but no 
less penetrating insight. He recognises that his development 
from childhood has been a gradual appropriation to himself of 
the external world : 


There was a child went forth every day 
And the first object he looked upon that object he became . . .3 


Moreover, to both poets the phenomena of the external world 
appear as manifestations of their own activity : 


Oh! les rythmes fougueux de la nature entiére 
Et les sentir et les darder a travers soi ! 

Vivre les mouvements répandus dans les bois, 
Le sol, les vents, la mer, et les tonnerres ; 
Vouloir qu’en son cerveau tressaille Punivers.* 


The same feelings had already been expressed by Whitman : 


My spirit has passed in compassion and determination around the whole 
earth ... 

You vapors, I think I have risen with you, moved away to distant 
continents and fallen down there for reasons, 

I think I have blown with you, you winds ; 

You waters, I have finger’d every shore with you.® 


1 ‘Starting from Paumanok,’ Leaves of Grass, vol. i. p. 26. 
3 “La Joie,’ La multiple Splendeur. 

2 © Autumn Rivulets,’ Leaves of Grass, vol. i. p. 135. 

4 *L’En-avant,’ Les Forces tumultueuses. 

5 “Salut au Monde !’ Leaves of Grass, vol. i. p. 175. 


94 WHITMAN AND VERHAEREN 


Just as it has been said of the American poet that deep world- 
currents course through him, Verhaeren’s biographer declares that 
the ardent sap of the world bubbles in his veins. And so it seems. 
For the waves of enthusiasm become ever stronger until the poet 
is exhausted by his own ecstasy : 


Je suis ivre du monde et je me multiplie 
Si fort en tout ce qui rayonne et m’éblouit 
Que mon cceur en défaille et se délivre en cris.1 


Nor is it surprising that on one occasion he should have feared 
the loss of his own identity : 


Mon ame était anxieuse d’étre elle-méme.2 


For, as we have seen, Verhaeren’s conception of the universe 
leads him to the conviction of the identity of himself with the 
external world. Identity, it need scarcely be said, is one of the — 
dominant ideas expressed in Leaves of Grass, which has been 
described as a “ series of sorties into the world of materials, piercing 
through the ostensible shows of things to the interior meanings, 
and illustrating in a free and large way the genius and growth of 
a man, his free use of the world about him, appropriating to him- 
self, seeking his spiritual identity through its various objects and 
experiences and giving in many direct and indirect ways the mean- 
ing and satisfaction of life.’ ® 

But both poets go a step further. Not content with spreading 
themselves over the universe, they absorb it into themselves. 
In Verhaeren’s case the identity between the world and himself 
is so perfect that when he wishes to exalt the beauty of the universe 
he is obliged to contemplate it in himself and in his own body : 


Je ne distingue plus le monde de moi-méme 

Je suis l’ample feuillage et les rameaux flottants, 
Je suis le sol dont je foule les cailloux pales 

Et Pherbe des fossés ou: soudain je m’affale 

Ivre et fervent, hagard, heureux et sanglotant.* 


The method of the Leaves is likewise egocentric. Whitman’s 
anthropomorphism is not a projection of himself into nature, but 
an absorption of nature into himself. 


1 «La Joie,’ La multiple Splendeur. 

2 ‘Le Mont,’ Les Visages de la Vie. 

8 J. Burrough’s Whitman. 

4 © Autour de ma Maison,’ La multiple Splendeur. 


WHITMAN AND VERHAEREN 95 


In me the caresser of life whenever moving, backwards as well as 
forward sluing, .. . 
Absorbing all to myself and for this song.t 


Among Verhaeren’s finest stanzas are those which voice his 
gratitude to his bodily faculties for having made possible this 
supreme appropriation : 


Soyez remerciés, mon corps, 

D’étre ferme rapide et frémissant encor 

Au toucher des vents prompts ou des brises profondes ; 
Et vous, mon torse droit et mes larges poumons, 

De respirer au long des mers ou sur les monts 

L’air radieux et vif qui baigne et mord les mondes.? 


With equal fervour Whitman exults over the miraculous func- 
tions of his body : 


The heart to jet the all-alike and innocent blood ! 

To breathe the air, how delicious ! 

To speak—to walk—to seize something by the hand! 

To prepare for sleep, for bed, to look on my rose-coloured flesh ! 
To be conscious of my body, so satisfied, so large ! 


His ‘Song of Sunset,’ from which these lines are taken, mingles 
in ‘ unmitigated adoration,’ the infinite and infinitesimal, nature, 
sunset, branches, leaves and “even the tiniest insect,’ in a way 
that recalls Verhaeren’s exultant confession : 


J’admire immensément la nature pléniére 

Depuis Varbuste nain jusqu’au géant soleil. 

Un pétale, un pistil, un grain de blé vermeil 

Et pris, avec respect, entre mes doigts qui l’aiment.® 


When things appear no longer as objects of observation, but 
as vital sensations, when we can face the material universe with 
Whitman’s cry of abandonment on our lips, ‘ We fathom you 
not—we love you!’ there results such an enrichment of our 


natures that our lives become penetrated with a new voluptuous- 
ness, a continuous ‘joie de vivre.’ The art of Verhaeren does 
_ not tend to some indefinite pleasure, but to the consummate joy 
_ which life in all its variety provides. What he says about Juliers, 
_the Flemish hero, is the expression of his own keenest desire, 


1 “Song of Myself,’ Leaves of Grass, vol. i. p. 46. 
2 “La Joie,’ La multiple Splendeur. 
3 © Autour de ma Maison,’ La multiple Splendeur. 


96 WHITMAN AND VERHAEREN 


‘lVexistence était sa volupté.’ And such is the final message of 
Whitman’s ‘ Mystic Trumpter :’ 


joy in the ecstacy of life! 
Enough to merely be! enough to breathe ! 


And death? Death is but the full and final rendering of 
oneself to Nature. With a visionary’s imagination, lit by gleams 
of science, Verhaeren follows the metamorphosis of his body, at 
last abandoned to the waves : 


J’aurai ’immensité des forces pour cercueil 

Et leur travail obscur et leur ardeur occulte ; 
Mon étre entier sera perdu, sera fondu, 

Dans le brasier géant de leurs tumultes, 

Mais renaitra, aprés mille et mille ans, 

Vierge et divin, sauvage et clair et frissonnant.? 


This audacious conviction is one of Whitman’s beloved themes. 
Pensive on her dead, the Mother of All speaks : 


Absorb them well, O my earth . . . my young men’s bodies absorb, 
and their precious, precious blood, 

Which holding in trust for me faithfully back again give me many a 
year hence, 

In unseen essence and odor of surface and grass, centuries hence,? 


Finally, through these tumultuous visions of Life’s ecstasies 
and hopes breaks the broadening ray of Death’s joy : 


For not life's joys alone I sing, repeating the joy of Death.® 


The joy of death, the lesson and goal of life : 


Homme qui tue et qui engendre 
Il faut apprendre 
A jouir de la mort.4 


1 “Vers la Mer,’ Les Visages de la Vie. 
2 “Song of Parting.’ 3° A Song of Joys.’ 
4 “Sur les Greves,’ Les Forces tumultueuses. . 


WHITMAN AND VERHAEREN 97 


CHAPTER VI 


COMRADESHIP 


Earth, my likeness, 
Though you look so impassive, ample, and spheric here, 
T now suspect that is not all, 
I now suspect there is something fierce in you eligible to burst forth, 
For an athlete is enamour’d of me, and I of him. 
WHITMAN, Calamus, 


Pour vivre clair, ferme et juste 
Avec mon coeur, j’admire tout 
Ce qui vibre, travaille et bout 
Dans la tendresse humaine et sur la terre auguste. 
VERHAEREN, ‘ Autour de ma Maison.’ 


PanTHEISM would be an arid enthusiasm did it not connect in 
some way with the life of man. We have already seen how their 
universal admiration led both poets to an intense rapture in the 
faculties which enable such emotions to be experienced. This 
is the first link connecting the marvels of the infinite with their 
finite observer, man. ‘The second is revealed in a glorious poem 
wherein the cosmic emotions that inspired the ‘songs of the 
universal ’ dictate a hymn of praise to the human body : 


Dans la clarté pléniere et ses rayons soudains 
Brilant, jusques au coeur, les ramures profondes, 
Femmes dont les corps nus brillent en ces jardins 
Vous étes des fragments magnifiques du monde. 


Il est vous-méme, avec son calme et sa douceur, 
Le beau jardin qui vous préte ses abris d’ombre ; 
Kt le rosier des purs étés est votre cceur, 

Et vos lévres de feu sont ses roses sans nombre. 


Magnifiez-vous donc et comprenez-vous mieux ! } 


cries the poet, urging them to a full appreciation of themselves, 
now that he has revealed to them their greatness and beauty. 
Nothing is more Whitmanian than this desire to awaken the in- 
dividual to a full sense of his own value, and the proud position 
he occupies as the centre of the world’s existence. It is interesting 


1 *La Louange du corps humain,’ La multiple Splendeur. 
VOL. II. a 


98 WHITMAN AND VERHAEREN 


to contrast the characteristic styles of the two poets in this respect. 
Whitman is less artistic but more direct : 


Whoever you are, now I place my hand upon you, that you may be 
MiyapOeMy . 

O, I could sing such grandeurs and glories about you ! 

You have not known what you are, you have slumber’d upon yourself 
all your life . . 

Whoever you are! claim your own at any hazard ! 

These shows of the East and West are tame compared to you, 

These inmense meadows, these interminable rivers, you are immense 

_ and interminable as they, 

These furies, elements, storms, motions of Nature, throes of apparent 
dissolutions, you are he or she who is master or mistress over 
them.! 


And so out of an admiration of the universe proceeds a mutual 
admiration, which in turn broadens out into universal altruism. 
Love will be the final form of future relationships, the foundation 
of society: : 


L’amour dont la puissance encore est inconnue, 
Dans sa profondeur douce et sa charité nue, 

Ira porter la joie égale aux résignés ; 

Les sacs ventrus de l’or seront saignés 

Un soir d’ardente et large équité rouge ; 
Disparaitront palais, banques, comptoirs et bouges ; 
Tout sera simple et clair, quand Vorgueil sera mort, 
Quand Phomme, au lieu de croire a l’égoiste effort, 
Qui s éterniserait, en une Ame immortelle, 
Dispensera vers tous sa vie accidentelle.? 


La multiple Splendeur, that volume in which Verhaeren has 
expressed the definite formula of his ethical conceptions was 
originally to be entitled, Admirez-vous les uns les autres. The 
highest ideal here is self-sacrifice. For Whitman likewise, the 
spirit of the new era will be that of love, comradeship, and the 
‘boundless offering of sympathy.’ He himself would participate 
in the realisation of this ideal. ‘I also sent out Leaves of Grass,’ 
he writes, ‘ to arouse and set flowing in men’s and women’s hearts, 
young and old, endless streams of living, pulsating love and friend- 
ship, directly from them to myself now and ever.’? This he says 


1 “To You’ (Birds of Passage), Leaves of Grass, vol. i. p. 284. 
2 “Le Forgeron,’ Les Villages illusoires. 
3 Complete Prose, p. 277. 


WHITMAN AND VERHAEREN 99 


is the special meaning of the Calamus cluster of the Leaves 
wherein he cries : 


Come, I will make the continent indissoluble, 
I will make the most splendid race the sun ever shone upon, 
I will make divine magnetic lands 

With the love of comrades, 

With the life-long love of comrades. 


It is ‘ by a fervent accepted development of comradeship, the 
beautiful and sane affection of man for man . . . that the States 
of the future are to be effectually welded together.’ * This ideal 
has been given its loftiest expression in a noble poem, which coming 
at the end of La multiple Splendeur seems to erect the ‘ ethics of 
admiration ’? as a table of law : 


Si nous nous admirons vraiment les uns les autres, 
Du fond méme de notre ardeur et notre fol, 

Vous les penseurs, vous les savants, vous les apotres 
Pour les temps qui viendront vous extrairez la loi.* 


Both poets are enamoured of mankind and preach the ideals 
of universal altruism as the doctrines of a new Gospel, ‘ the 
evangel-poem of comradeship and love.’ But it is evident that 
love in the sense of sexual passion does not enter into this concep- 
tion. Modern as are the works of Whitman and Verhaeren, they 
seem from this standpoint to be estranged from our epoch and, 
as if by common design, to banish certain artistic preoccupations 
to which all other poets have yielded. The all-engrossing love of 
mankind and the universe seems to have left little room in their 
greater works for the narrower love of women. Yet the theme of 
love is far from being absent from the entire work of either. 
Verhaeren has written three volumes ® which have been ranked 
among the tenderest love-poems of all times ; while two poems in 
Les Forces tumultueuses are important in this connection. The 
first, “ Amour,’ traces the evolution of love, symbolised in Venus, 
first in its personal development from the carnal to the spiritual; 
then—from an altruistic standpoint—this personal sentiment ex- 
pands into love for humanity, which, in turn, giving place to the 
spirit of revolt, finally becomes social and democratic : 

1 “For You, O Democracy ’ (Calamus), Leaves of Grass, vol. i. p. 142. 
2 Complete Prose, 278. 
3 The term is borrowed from 8. Zweig. 


4 ‘La Ferveur,’ La multiple Splendeur. 
5 Les Heures claires, Les Heures d’aprés, Les Heures du soir. 


100 WHITMAN AND VERHAEREN 


Vénus, recueille en toi cette ivresse angoissée ; 
Que du fond de ta chair et de ton coeur 
L’amour afflue et régne enfin dans ta pensée, 
Aime ’humanité qui est P4me meilleure 

En tourments et en vertige vers le bonheur ; 
Livre et prodigue-toi a tous ceux qui t’appellent, 
Non plus parmi les dieux, ni a genoux 

Devant les Christs—mais debout, parmi nous— 
Et simplement humaine et maternelle. 


The other poem, ‘Les Femmes,’ has been considered one of the 
finest sex poems of the century. In its rugged treatment of the 
theme of love, as well as in its mingling of natural and sexual 
images, it recalls the spirit of Whitman’s love-poetry in the 
Children of Adam. Turning to Leaves of Grass we find that 
immediately after the Children of Adam comes Calamus; and 
one short poem from this collection seems to sum up this 
tendency to flee the love of woman and to find life’s ideal in 
the broader love of mankind : | 


Fast-anchor’d eternal, O love! O woman I love ! 
O bride! O wife! more resistless than I can tell, the thought of you! 
Then separate as disembodied or another born, 
Kthereal, the last athletic reality, my consolation, 
I ascend, I float in the regions of your love, O man, 
O sharer of my roving life. 


The whole evolution of Verhaeren tends not to the limitation 
of the primordial instincts of man, but to their logical develop- 
ment. This may be shown by a comparison of Verhaeren’s first 
volumes with his last, in which the passion that was formerly a 
rebellion has become a law, an instinct in which is manifested the 
joy of life. But none of Verhaeren’s works can hold its own with | 
Leaves of Grass as an utterance out of the depths of primordial 
human nature. Whitman has often been called the Adamic man 
reborn ; and though he is deficient as an artist, we can conceive 
of this defect as contributing to his supremacy as a primary, 
abysmal force in literature—a force unhampered by the refine- 
ments and restrictions of art. Yet fundamentally the relation of 
both poets to art is identical, being through the soul rather than 
through the intellect. For Verhaeren, the love of the universe,the 
joy of life are not intellectual emotions but physical pleasures. 
His poems have been described as ‘ Une décharge d’électricité 


WHITMAN AND VERHAEREN 101 


humaine.’! His convictions have been arrived at by intuition, 
not by intellect : 


L’instinct me rive au front assez de certitude. 

Que Vesprit pense ou non avec exactitude, 

La force humaine, en son torrent sarge et frondeur, 
Méle le faux au vrai, sous un flot de splendeurs.? 


It is noteworthy how Whitman, in furnishing a “‘ last enclosing 
clue,’ urges the reader not to construe his book ‘ as an intellectual 
or scholastic effort or poem mainly, but more as a radical utterance 
out of the Emotions and the Physique.’ ® 

We are now approaching the termination of Verhaeren’s 
ethical evolution. Formerly, Force appeared to him as the true 
meaning of the universe ; but a deeper knowledge has taught him 
that it is goodness and admiration. In this last power he sees 
not an instrument of conquest, but a source of boundless humility 
and devotion to mankind. To the author of La multiple Splendeur 
may be applied the words he himself applied to humanity : 


La joie et la bonté sont les fleurs de sa force. 


It is equally remarkable how with all Whitman’s glorification 
of pride and self-reliance, the final lesson of his life and work is 
service, self-denial—the free and lavish giving of himself to others. 


I will scatter myself among men and women as I go.® 


CHAPTER VII 


WHITMAN AND VERHAEREN AS NATURE POETS 


* Nature and Man shall be disjoined and diffused no more.’ 
WHITMAN, ‘ Passage to India.’ 
* J’aime homme et le monde.’ 
VERHAEREN, ‘ Un Soir,’ Les Forces tumuliueuses. 


How much there is in common between the two poets’ treatment 
of nature will have already been seen. Neither can be said to be 
a nature poet in the same sense as Wordsworth was. Wordsworth 


1 Bazalgette, Emile Verhaeren. 

* “Les Réves,’ La multiple Splendeur. if 

3 Complete Prose, footnote, p. 278. 

4 “Les Mages,’ La multiple Splendeur. 

5 “Song of the Open Road,’ Leaves of Grass, vol. i. p. 180. 


102 WHITMAN AND VERHAEREN 


turned away from city life with the cry, ‘ The world is too much 
with us.’ With Whitman and Verhaeren, on the contrary, the 
main theme is man in his activities, and never nature unrelated 
toman. Yet nature is the background of their entire work ; and 
although it is never described for itself, both poets excel in treating 
its human aspects and in endowing it with human and superhuman 
attributes. In the ‘ Lesson of a Tree,’1 Whitman writes: ‘ How 
strong, vital, enduring ! how dumbly eloquent ! What suggestions 
of imperturbability and being, as against the human trait of mere 
seeming. ‘Then the qualities, almost emotional, palpably artistic, 
heroic, of a tree ; so innocent and harmless, yet so savage . . .’ 
The final passage might almost have suggested one of Verhaeren’s 
finest poems: Whitman is describing the effect of twilight on 
trees: ‘In the revealings of such light, such exceptional hour, 
such mood, one does not wonder at the old story fables [Indeed, 
why fables ?] of people falling into love-sickness with trees, seiz’d 
extatic with the mystic realism of the resistless silent strength in 
them—strength, which after all is perhaps the last completest, 
highest beauty.’ 

Verhaeren’s great poem, ‘ l’Arbre,’ ? is, as it were, the glorious 
fulfilment of this theme. The poet is alone with a mighty tree 
which seems to embody all the energies of life, all the powers of 
superhuman endurance. He approaches, touches it, leans his 
breast upon it with such fervour that its deep rhythm and total 
strength pass into him : 

Alors, j’étais mélé a sa belle vie ample ; 
Je m’attachais a lui comme un de ses rameaux ; 
Il se plantait, dans la splendeur, comme un exemple ; 
J’aimais plus ardemment le sol, les bois, les eaux, 
La plaine immense et nue ou les nuages passent, 
Mes bras auraient voulu tenir en eux lespace ; 
Mes muscles et mes nerfs rendaient léger mon corps 
Kt je criais: “La force est sainte. : 
Il faut que Phomme imprime son empreinte 
Violemment sur ses desseins hardis : 
Elle est celle qui tient les clefs des paradis 
Kt dont le large poing en fait tourner les portes.’ 
Kt je baisais le tronc noueux, éperdiment, 
Kt quand le soir se détachait du firmament, 
Je me perdais, dans la campagne morte, 
Marchant droit devant moi, vers n’importe ou, 
Avec des cris jaillis du fond de mon cceur fou. 
1 Complete Prose, p. 83. 2 La multiple Splendeur. 


WHITMAN AND VERHAEREN 103 


To nature also—as well as to the revelations of modern science 
—hboth poets owe their ideas of vastness. Verhaeren’s poetry is 
full of boundless skies, seas, and plains crossed by monotonous 
roads which go on to the world’s end. Les Flamandes has for 
background, * La verte immensité des plaines et des plaines.’ 
Vastness is a dominant note in Whitman’s writings, ever bringing 
him back to the great themes which most completely illustrate 
it: the “ huge and thoughtful night,’ the broad, deep sea soothing 
or assailing the earth with its embrace, typifying the sea of life 
on which sails the immortal ship—‘ ship of the body, ship of the 
soul, voyaging, voyaging, voyaging.’ It is remarkable how often, 
the two poets use this metaphor. Verhaeren has a poem ‘ Le 
Navire,’ 1 which represents humanity as a ship sailing the oceans 
of time. And if for once we might change the order, we would say 
there is a ring of Verhaeren’s grim triumph in, 


Sure as the ship of all, the Earth itself 
Product of deathly fire and turbulent chaos 
Forth from its spasms of fury and its poisons 
Issuing at least in perfect power and beauty. 


There is also a striking resemblance in the two poets’ artistic 
treatment of nature. The art of Verhaeren’s first volumes— 
especially of Les Flamandes—is that of the old Flemish masters. 

_ Havelock Ellis reveals almost as close a connection between 

~ Whitman’s art and that of the old Dutch masters. This is one 

- element of Whitman’s art. The other is modern—‘a curious 
research for sexual imagery in Nature, imagery often tinged by 

_ bizarre and mystical colour.’ ® 

Figures of this kind are often employed by Verhaeren : 


Pistils dardés! pollens féconds ! flammes trémiéres ! 
Un rut immense et lourd semble bondir dans lair ; 
Les blancs magnolias sont des baisers faits chair 

Et les senteurs des lys parfument la lumiére.* 


Man and nature are the two main themes of their work, and 
have received similar treatment at the hands of both poets. 
_ Together they have enjoyed that mystic communion with nature 
_ in her most formidable aspects—oceans, rivers, mountains, plains 


a 


1 Les Rythmes souverains. 

2 “O Star of France’ (Autumn Rivulets), Leaves of Grass, vol. ii. p. 171. 
3 The New Spirit, p. 124. 

4 °*L’Amante,’ Les Forces tumuliueuses. 


104 WHITMAN AND VERHAEREN 


—which has permitted them now to enjoy solitude, now to 
exult in the splendour of summer mornings. But their delight 
in the external universe—absorbing as it is—seems but the 
whetstone of a more human enthusiasm, a passion for life, in all 
its modern, boisterous vigour. This enables them to participate 
in the life of ‘Oppidomagne ’ even more intensely than those who 
actually live it, and whose activity they do not merely contemplate 
but re-live by that same profound sympathy as enabled them to 
share the existence of tree and cloud, of wind and wave. 

These two themes have been powerfully combined by Whitman 
in a poem beginning, ‘ Give me the splendid silent sun,’ wherein, 
having called for undisturbed communion with nature, he abruptly 
cries : 

Keep your splendid silent sun, 

Keep your woods, O Nature, and the quiet places by the woods. . 
Give me faces and streets .. . 

Give me shores and wharves, heavy-fringed with black ships ! 

O such for me! O an intense life full to repletion and varied! .. . 
People endless, streaming, with strong voices, passions, pageants.! 


Verhaeren condenses the double appeal in a striking stanza : 


Vous existez en mol, fleuves, foréts et monts 

Et vous encor, mais vous surtout, villes puissantes 
Ou je sens s’exalter les cris les plus profonds 
D’age en age, sur la terre retentissante.? 


With this common enthusiasm for nature and man—the 
twofold inspiration we have been annotating all through this 
study-——our comparison closes. As variations of this dominant 
theme we have tried to show that both poets have the same faith 
in the goodness of man and the greatness of his future, the same 
religion of humanity, the same worship of strenete in physique, 
intellect, and character, the same ene in ‘ Nature’s primal 
sanities.’ 

Surveying his work towards the end of his life, the author 
of Leaves of Grass said: ‘The word I myself put primarily for the ~ 
description of them as they stand at last is the word Suggestive- 
ness.” And a last glance at Whitman’s work, so rough and un- 
polished, yet so rich in the stuff and substance of poetry, seems 
to drive home the conclusion that Whitman is the fountain-head 
whence, all unconsciously, Verhaeren proceeds. Yet there is no 


1‘ Drum-Taps,’ Leaves of Grass, vol. ii. p. 11. 
2 *L’Or,’ Les Rythmes souveraines. 


WHITMAN AND VERHAEREN 105 


intention to suggest that the former is of less signifiance than the 
latter. For if the ‘comradeship’ of Calamus finds its reflection 
in the ‘admiration ’ of La multiple Splendeur, and if, as a song of 
the modern, Leaves of Grass is excelled by Les Villes tentaculaires, 
if, finally, Verhaeren is a greater artist than Whitman, it must not 
be forgotten that many themes—like those of democracy and death 
—have been treated more fully by the American than by the 
Belgian poet. ~ 

To return to our subject, which is a comparison and not a 
contrast, we have seen how each has attempted to justify in poetry 
every aspect of the life of his country. Toute la Flandre seems to 
have realised, with more detail than anything comparable to it 
in Whitman’s works, the latter’s ideal of an exhaustive poetic 
treatment of modern national life. Further, just as Whitman 
did not confine himself to one State, but became the most char- 
acteristic poet of America, Emile Verhaeren has become the most 
essentially HKuropean poet of his age; and has aimed—as Whit- 
man did—at writing the epic of industry, science, and all the 
manifestations of modern life. 

But though ardent realists, they are, even to a greater degree, 
idealists and mystics. Not content with contemplating man in 
the home and at his work, they consider him in his relation to 
nature and God. Not satisfied with making the epic of his 
activities, they seek to tune their lyre to his motives, enthusiasms, 
aspirations. Having exalted ‘the present and the real,’ they 
become visionaries and prophesy the future. Thus, as poets of 
the cosmos, they make a universal appeal. Their nature poetry 
is inspired by the loftiest pantheism, their social poetry by the 
broadest altruism. 

Yet although, time after time, Verhaeren employs, in his own 
way and sphere, ideas that are found in Whitman, we maintain 
that there is no influence of the latter on the former. Until the 
last few years, the inartistic nature of Leaves of Grass has so 
effectively militated against its popularity that it has been little 
read even in English-speaking countries. But without repeating 
our external evidence, we feel that to read Verhaeren after Whit- 
man is to be convinced of the originality of the former : his art 
is infinitely superior, no verbal resemblances occur,' and, as our 


1 In 1881, Whitman employed the words ‘ By the Roadside’ as a group-title 
for twenty-nine poems; in 1891, Verhaeren published a volume entitled, Au 
Bord de la Route ; but there is no similarity in the contents. 


VOL. II. H 


106 WHITMAN AND VERHAEREN 


quotations have shown, the outlook of the two poets is often en- 
tirely different. Verhaeren has had to climb to Whitman’s 
optimistic standpoint out of depths of despair reflected in poetry 
so morbid as not to have the faintest parallel in Leaves of Grass. 


Many of his later visions are tinged with the same gloom. The | 


aspect of great towns, for instance, is as invariably tragic to Ver- 
haeren as it is joyous to Whitman. In them we have an example 
of similar influences working on two minds, equally susceptible, 
yet constitutionally dissimilar. The resemblances between them 
do not indicate a debt but a similarity of inspiration: their social 
poetry is the outcome of similar social conditions, just as their 
nature poetry owes its characteristic quality to the vastness of 
their surroundings. : 

Broadly speaking, Whitman theorises, Verhaeren achieves. 
In spite of all the former has said on the subject of science and 


industry, he has written no poems like ‘La Science’ or ‘ Les — 


Usines.” Many themes which have received full treatment from 
Verhaeren exist as hints or indications in Whitman’s works. 
And although Emile Verhaeren is considered one of the most 
original of living Continental poets, his work so often appears to 
realise the ideals of the American prophet-poet that he seems, 


all unconsciously, to be the first to have answered Whitman’s 


appeal to the * Poets to Come.’ 


I myself but write one or two indicative words for the future . . . 
Expecting the main things from you. 


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ABERYSTWYTH STUDIES 


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COLLEGE OF WALES 


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VOLUME THREE 


ABERYSTWYTH 
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FOREWORD. 


In this, the third number of the “ Aberystwyth Studies,” an 
effort is being made to proceed with a scheme which was unfortu- 
nately interrupted by the War. ‘The first number appeared in 
1912: it was followed by a second number in 1914: and the inten- 
tion then was to aim at an annual publication which should consist 
of contributions to learning—more especially in the Humanities— 
made by past and present members of the College. With the re- 
moval of some of the practical difficulties brought about by the War, 
it has now been found possible to renew the venture: and it is 
hoped that one, if not two, of such numbers may be published an- 
nually. That abundance of material is available is only too clear : 
and opportunities of publication will tend to increase that amount. 
Indeed, the time would seem to have come when a periodical of this 
sort is essential to the intellectual life of our community : and the 
co-operation of all interested, including students past and present, 


is, therefore, cordially invited by the Senate of the College. 


fo We Tal AGU CONIS:. 


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CONTENTS. 
PAGE 


1. THE GREEK AGONES By PrRoressor H. J. ROSE 1 


wo 


A FEW NOTES ON THE FAMILIAR LETTERS 


OF JAMES HOWELL By PROFESSOR E. BENSLY 2. 
3. FABLE. LITERATURE IN WELSH BY PROFESSOR 
T. GWYNN JONES - - - = - 45 


4. TRAJANO BOCCALINIJ’S INFLUENCE UPON 
ENGLISH LITERATURE BY RICHARD 
THOMAS, M.A. - - - - - - To 


THE 
GREEK AGONES. 


The following article was written shortly before the War and 
intended for a new lexicon of ancient religion, to have been edited 
by Profs. Nilsson of Ind and Wiinsch of Berlin. A little while 
before the first fasiscule of this work was to have been ready the 
catastrophe came ; no more printing was done, and it was found 


ultimately quite impossible to continue publication at all. In any 


case, to contribute to a lexicon published in Germany and partly 
edited by a German would clearly have been out of the question 
for a British subject. 

It remains only to make such use as is still possible of the 
materials collected. Prof. Nilsson, whose eminence as an investi- 
gator of all matters connected with Greek religion is too well known 
to need any enlargement on the topic, expressed a wish that I 
should publish my work on the Greek games in some form or other ; 
and I now take advantage of the re-issue of Aberystwyth Studies 
to do so. It fills, I think, a gap; for while much good work has 
been done on this subject by British and Continental scholars, 
I know of no book or monograph which gives a full and critical 
account of the problem of the origin of the customs in question, 
and their supposed relation to religious ideas. 

The last item in my bibliography is of interest, not only for 
its great intrinsic merits, but as indirectly showing the soundness 
of the criticisms on the second hypothesis of the origin of the Games. 
Mr. Gardiner wrote some two or three years after my article had 
been completed, but without knowing that it existed; I have 
since read his, but have carefully refrained from altering anything 
I had written. ‘his being so, it is noteworthy how nearly alike 
our lines of argument as well as our conclusions are. To my mind, 
this greatly strengthens both his case and mine; for if our con- 
clusions are false it is very curious that working quite independently 
we should both hit upon the same blunder: ¢«c6Ao? wer yap aA, 


rn \ , 
TAVTOOATOS O€ KAKOL. 


Z THE GREEK AGONES 


The sense of the word ¢yov under disctission is most 
probably to be connected with the normal Homeric meaning 
‘assembly ” (‘‘certamen”’ is a possible translation in 4 259). 
It signifies an assembly in honour of the gods or a particular 
god or hero, or on a festal occasion of less definitely religious type, 
at which competitions, especially athletic and musical, take place 
(ayav YUPVLKOS, immKos, povotkos, KTe.). The existence of such 
assemblies at all periods of Greek history is fully attested. The 
word, however, applies most especially to a festival of this sort 
recurring at regular intervals of a year or more, usually under the 
presidency (dywvofecia) of a city or amphiktyony. Of this, as 
has been repeatedly pointed out, e.g., by Rohde, Psyche#, p. 151, 
there is no trace in Homer, although he knows of annual sacrifices, 
B 550-1, and regularly recurring holy days, ¢ 258. 

Homeric AGONES.—Two festivals of which athletics form a 
prominent part are fully described in the Homeric poems; the 
games in honour of Odysseus at Phaiakia, 6 94 sqq., and the funeral 
games of Patroklos in W; besides repeated n-entions of other 
funeral games, and one, A 698-702, of a horse-race apparently near 
Olympia (where it is possible that some sort of agon was held in 
prehistoric times) the occasion of which is not stated. The first 
of these agones is expressly stated to be undertaken with the idea of 
giving Odysseus an opportunity to see the prowess of his hosts. 
It is indeed preceded by a banquet which as usual in Homer is 
sacrificial (59), but the general tone of the assembly is distinctly 
secular; the people are there in order to see the distinguished 
visitor (12) and to enjoy themselves at the entertainment provided 
(98-9). This is significant in view of the problems discussed below. 
The athletic contests are of an informal nature, no prizes of any 
sort being mentioned ; they consist of running, wrestling, jumping, 
disk-throwing, and boxing, followed after an interval by an ex- 
hibition of dancing and ball-throwing (370 sqq.). All these, except 
the last, which one gathers was normally a competition, although 
not on this particular occasion, are common events in the latter 
agones. 

The funeral games of Patroklos, like those mentioned elsewhere 
in the poems, differ from those at Phaiakia not only in the solemnity 
of the occasion, but in the fact that prizes are given, all of some 
value, and many of great worth (dyov ypnpatitns, ex abXors, 
d@Aodopos ; for other technical names for this sort of agon, see 


THE GREEK AGONES 3 


Reisch in Paully-Wissowa, s.v., col. 847). The games follow the 
elaborate funeral rites ; Achilles presides and apparently provides 
most of the prizes. The contests themselves include those men- 
tioned in 6, with weight putting substituted for the disk-throwing, 
and with the addition of a chariot-race, a shooting-match, appar- 
ently a javelin-throwing contest (884 sqq.) and a duel au premier 
sang (798-825). This, like the dancing at Phaiakia, is no regular 
feature of the athletic programme, whether of an dywv erituduos 
or not. Its significance will be discussed later. In the meantime, 
one remarkable feature, imitated by Vergil, Aen. V, 305, 308, may 
be noted. The number of prizes is as great as the number of com 
petitors in every case. Further, the prizes in some cases (746, 800) 
had belonged to Patroklos himself. In view of these facts an 


‘ingenious suggestion (unpublished) has been made by Miss Barbara 


Freire-Marreco. It is quite conceivable that in these prizes we 
have a primitive method of dividing the dead man’s property. 
If it were merely taken away from his house or the grave, the 
ghost might be expected to feel himself robbed and be angry with 
the robber; but when the various articles are given to athletes 
who have taken part in the games in honour of the dead, the latter 
is in the position of a hospitable and generous host who sends his 
guests away with lasting mementoes of their visit. The fact that 
all are given prizes is easily accounted for if we remember that 
originally those present at the games would all be clansmen of the 
dead, i.e., those to whom the property would by ancient law, Roman 
as well as Greek, naturally belong. It is in fact the first attempt 
at a more rational bestowal of the property than that of burning 
or burying it with the corpse. 

HISTORICAL AGONES.—In historical Greece we find a great 
number of agonistic testivals, the most famous being the four 
Great Games, Olympia, Pythia, Nemea, Isthmia; all established 
by about 570 B.c. They are distinguished from the Homeric agon 
by the following features :—(1) Definite association with a religious 
ceremony and a more or less important shrine, whether of a god 


or a hero; (2) Many, though not all, reward the victor merely by 
a wreath, or, especially in later times, a palm-branch (ayov 


o7veduvityns) ; those which give valuable prizes, though often of 
considerable importance (Panathenaia at Athens, Heraia at Argos, 
&c.) are not in the first rank; (3) Recurrence at regular intervals, 


either of a year (Iolaeia), more regularly two or four years (Pythia ; 


‘ THE GREEK AGONES 


Olympia), or even eight years (Pythia originally, Sch. Pind., tzoé. 
Ilvé. p. 298 B). As a natural consequence of the importance 
and frequency of these festivals, the agonothetai are no longer 
private individuals, even of high rank, but representatives of states 
or amphictyonies, e.g., Kleonai and afterwards Argos for the 
Nemea. Very frequently, as at Olympia,two boards were appointed, 
one of agonothetai proper, another of officials (‘eporovoi), charged 
with the purely religious ceremonies, sacrifice, &c. As in other 
festivals, one of the regular magistrates might ex officio be charged 
with at least some part of the arrangements, as the Archon Epony- 
mos for the Attic Panathenaia (Momm, J/’este., p. 124, &c.). In later 
times the position of agonothetes was one of the numerous burden- 
some posts which a wealthy citizen of a Greek state was expected 
to fill. See for details Reisch 1.c., 865-873. The office can hardly 
be called a primarily religious one. 

The constitution of every agon which we know in any detail is 
substantially the same ; a concourse of pilgrims to the shrine meet, 
protected by the sacred truce (exeyeipiu) ; sacrifices are made to the 
gods locally worshipped, especially to the god in whose honour the 
feast is held ; there is a great sacrificial banquet, the games are 
held, the prizes distributed, and the visitors, still protected by the 
truce, depart. ‘The local variants amount to no more than slight 
differences in the relative order of the various events,—thus if the 
views of A. Mommsen (Delph. 206 sqq.) and Weniger (Ix/io TV. 150) 
be taken as substantially correct, some of the athletics preceded the 
great sacrifice at Olympia but not at Delphi,~in the length of the 
festival, or in the nature of the events themselves ; thus a regatta, 
elsewhere uncommon, is a prominent feature of the Panathenaia. 
Neither the details of the athletics nor the financial and official 
arrangements of the management of the festivals concern us here. 
The sacrifices and other purely religious ceremonies did not differ 
from those at other festivals. The main problem is the relation of 
the athletic sports to the rest of the festival, 7.e. the question whether 
they were a mere adjunct, like the fair which was an outstanding 
feature of the Olympic Games (Krause, Olympia, p. 191), or an 
integral part of the whole ceremony, like the sacrifice. The answer 
to this question depends on the view we take of the origin and nature 
of agones in general. 


(1). A view prevalent in ancient times and supported by 
p ; 
prominent scholars in our own day its that all agones were in their 


\ 
\ 


— 


THE GREEK AGONES 5 


origin exitagior. Thisis distinctly stated by Schel. Pind., iol. “Ic. 
p. 514 B. and applied even to the games held ostensibly in honour 
oa god (0 pev “OdvpriaKkos TH Aw dua tov TléXowa Ke.) 
Cf. Dion. Hal. V. 17 p. 885. As might be expected, this found favour 
with Euhemerizing Christian apologists : Aug. CD. VIII. 26, quoting 
Varro, uses the existence of ludi funebres to prove that the pagan 
gods are nothing but dead men, since they are honoured in the 
same way. Rohde, Psyche 150, points out that the appearance of 
periodically recurring games in Greece coincides with the recrudes- 
cence of hero-worship in post-Homeric times. He adduces the state- 
ment of Pausanias, VIII. iv. 5, that the funeral games of Azan 
were the first games ever held ; the undoubted fact that agones were 
instituted, often as a result of an oracle, in honour of the dead of 
historical times (the Phokaians killed at Agylla, Hdt. I. 167, 
WMiltiades, ib) VI. xxxviti. 1, Brasidas, Thuc. V. 11. Note also 
Plato’s recommendation, Legg. XII. 947K, of a yearly agon in honour 
of the dead) ; the evidence from the use of the funeral wreath, 
myrttie, that the Iolaeia were really funeral games in their origin 
(Schol. Pind. Isth. 111.117, ct. Eur. £/., 323—5, 511—2) ; his further 
areument, that we have at Rhodes an actual case of the transfer- 
ence of games from a hero to a god, is wrong; the Halieia there 
exist side by side with and do not supersede the TMapolemeia, see 
_ Nils. p. 462. Many other traces of a possible origin in funeral rites 
of the Great Games are pointed out by ancient authors, generally in 
explicit support of this theory ; e.g., at the Isthmia, the use of the 
plant which formed the crown, parsely (veA:vov), in burial rites, 
Plut. Timol. 26, Q.C. V. iii. 2, and the connection of its later and 
supposedly also earlier equivalent, the pine, with the legend of the 
death of Melikertes, see Paus. I. xliv. 6—7 ; at the Nemea, the fact 
that the umpires were motirning costume, Schol. Pind., i706. Neu. 4, 
p. 425 B; besides the actual legends themselves, which definitely 
state that the Nemea were founded in memory of Opheltes-Arche- 
moros (e.g., Hur. Hypsip. 34 (60), 99—103 Hunt), the Isthmia in 
memory of Melikertes (Paus. 1. c. and many other passages) etc. 
l‘inally we have to reckon with the existence of a considerable num- 
ber of games admittedly in honour of heroes. Cf. also Frazer, 
SB. p. 92 sqq. 

A more extreme form of the same theory has been put forward 
by Ridgway, J.H.S. xxxi. p. xlvii.; cf. Origin of Tragedy, pp. 36, 38. 
He would deduce not only agones but tragedy from the supposed 


6 THE GREEK AGONES 


performance at the tombs of heroes of rites commemorative of their 
exploits while alive. Such writers lay great stress on the facts con- 
nected with Olympia, especially the prominence of Pelops, see Pind. 
O1. 1 90, Schol. Vet. on 93 (sacrifice made to Pelops before that to 
Zeus). Much prominence has also been given to the well-known 
legend of Pelops and Oimomaos (see Roscher s. vv.), together with 
the expression of Pindar regarding Olympia, «v dpopors IleXoros 
O01. 1.97; not a very cogent piece of evidence, as it is quite possible 
to construe IeAoros with kXéos, 97, taking dpopos with “Odvpriddor. 
The idea of Ridgeway is then, that the Olympic games consisted 0° a 
sort of ritual imitation of the famous race of Pelops, designed to 
please and placate him ; that it was not till later times that they 
were regarded as sacred to Zeus ; and by implication, that in the case 
of all the other early agones dedicated to a god we should find, if our 
knowledge of the facts were sufficient, an early ritual, more or less 
definitely mimetic, in honour of some hero. 

This theory no doubt is true to this extent, that an.agon was in 
historical times a common feature of hero-cult ; also that agones 
frequently accompanied funeral rites. But to prove it universally 
applicable is scarcely possible, in fact of the following evidence. 

(a) It is necessary to explain away a number of agones of con- 
siderable antiquity and wholly unconnected, so far as we know, with 
hero-cults, by the bare assumption that originally they were dedi- 
cated to a hero and not a god. Such are the Olympia at Athens, 
to Ge: the Delphinia at Aigina, to Apollo Delphinios (Nils. 172) : 
the Argive Heraia: the Lykaia and Koreiain Arkadia : the Achaian 
Hermaia: the Spartan agones connected with the cult of Orthia 
(ib. 195), and many others. Indeed the number of long-established 
agones which can be definitely and indubitably connected with a 
hero-cult is small. 

(b) The theory loses sight of the fact that although an agon was a 
prominent and regular feature of funeral ceremonies, whether for 
the reason suggested above or not, it was also common on other 
occasions. ‘The Phaiakian games have already been mentioned, 
and are clearly not held in honour of any superhuman power. 
Weddings for example were sometimes attended by contests of 
various sorts, as in the famous story of Kleisthenes, Hdt. VI. 128 
sqq. ; and one need only glance at Homer to find examples of Greeks 
amusing themselves with just such exercises as those of the Games 
whenever a number of them happened to be together with nothing 


THE GREEK AGONES 7 


in particular to occupy them. (B 773, 6626). Again, to celebrate 
victory or deliverance, we find armies in historical times instituting 
anagon. A well-known example is found in Xen. Anab. IV. viii. 25, 
where the Ten Thousand, after arriving safely at Trapezus, perform 
their vows to Zeus Soter, Herakles, and other gods,—there is nothing 
said of the worship of any hero, which indeed would be unlikely, as 
they would not know anything of the local cults,—and then pro- 
ceed to hold an informal ayov yupvixds presided over by one of their 
number. Cf. Hell. IV. 1. 7. Thus we see that the legend which 
represents Herakles as founding the Olympia in thanksgiving for a 
successful campaign (Pind. 01. 11 3 and Schol. ad loc.), whether or 
not we take it as having any historical content, is perfectly conso- 
nant with actual Greek practice. It seems indubitable also that the 
Pythia owe their foundation in the form in which we know them to 
the action of a victorious general, see Paus. X. vii. 24 sqq., Schol. 
Pind. tx. Ilv@. 1 and 2, pp. 297, 298 B. Ii we look at the numerous 
foundations of later times we can find abundant examples of games 
dedicated to other than heroes. Such are the Eleutheria at Plataea 
(Zeus Eleutherios) and many other commemorative festivals in 
Greece ; the Ptolemaia, etc., of the Macedonian epoch ; the numer- 
ous Sebasteia, Augustea, Hadrianea, etc., in honour of deified Roman 
emperors; and such Roman foundations as Augustus’ Actia (Apollo) 
and the Agon Capitolinus (Minerva). From these we may safely 
conclude that in the historical period at any rate if agones were 
frequently held in honour of heroes, it was merely because they were 
felt to be appropriate methods of celebrating any superhuman power, 
whether Olympian or chthonian, or any man whom superstition or 
flattery considered as more than mortal. 

(c). Not only do agones occur in non-heroic ritual, but a few 
facts point to an actual feéling in some quarters that they were the 
prerogative rather of the gods. At Plataea, in commemoration of 
the great victory, two sets of rites were held, Paus. IX. ii. 5. One 
of these was the annual sacrifice to the “‘ heroes,”’ i.e., those who fell 
in the battle, see Nils. p. 455. The second was the pentaeteric 
festival of Zeus Eleutherios,whose central feature was a hoplite-race 
before the altar of the god. It is not without significance also that 
in his account of the Iolaeia, /sth. IV. 61 sqq., Pindar seems to 
distinguish sharply between the purely funereal rites in honour of 
the children of Megara and the games which followed next day. It 
may be questioned whether we have not here a superposition upon 


8 THE GREEK AGONES 


an ancient chthonian rite of something approaching Olympian 
ceremonial ; since Herakles, although regarded locally as a hero, 
not a god, always stands nearer actual divine rank than the other 
heroes. Noteworthy also is the direct statement of Plut., Tes. 25, 
that that part of the Isthmian ritual which was directly concerned 
with Melikertes “‘ was nocturnal, more like a ceremony of initiation 
than a public spectacle.” 

(d). If we examine the ritual and legends of those agones of 
which we know most, the Great Games, we find in all cases a number 
of points unfavourable to this theory, especially in Ridgeway’s form. 

At Olympia, there is good reason to think that the story of 
Pelops and Oinomaos is not part of the earliest traditions of the 
games. The “tomb of Pelops’’ on keing opened by the German 
excavators, proved to contain no body later than the neolithic period 
(Dorpfeldt, Afitth. Ath. xxxiti. 189); that Oinomaos was king of 
Pisa or Pelops anywhere in the Peloponnesos in the oldest form 
of the story may reasonably be doubted, see Roscher’s. vv. ‘The 
overwhelming bulk of legendary testimony in Pindar and his 
scholiast, also Pausanias V, 8,3 sq., connects the founding with 
Herakles, and with the cult of Zeus. Pelops’ connection with it is 
very shadowy ; he celebrates the agon in honour of Zeus, Paus. 
V. viii. 2, or Herakles, his descendant (a late genealogy) ordains 
that he shall be honoured above other heroes, ib. xiii. 2. The tabu on 
persons who had eaten of his sacrifice entering the temple of Zeus, 
ib. 3, militates against the notion that the whole ceremony was 
originally in his honour. 

For the Pythia, we have to notice, besides the very definite 
legendary connection with Apollo, the tact that there is no hero at 
Delphi in whose honour the games may be supposed to have been 
celebrated. ‘The only important hero buried there was Neoptolemos, 
and we have the clear testimony of Pausanias J..1v. 4, that 
he was not honoured until after the Gallic invasion. The,dayov 
povorxos also, which was the earliest part of the contest, is most 
naturally connected with Apollo himself. See Paus. X. vii. 2, 
Scholeeind im. ng k> ox 207s Be 

The Isthmia and Nemea may be considered together. We 
have in the first place no real reason to suppose that the cults of 
Archemoros and of Palaimon-Melikertes are older in those localities 
than the worship of Zeus and Poseidon. Moreover, it is hard to say 
why the ghosts of children, mere babies, should be supposed to find 


— 


ee 


THe GREEK AGONES 9 


pleasure in athletic contests, or in what sense these could be a 
mimesis of any events in their lives. Contrast the piacila offered 
to the children of Medeia at Corinth, Paus. II. iti 7. 

(ec). On this supposition it is curious that we do not find in the 
agones of historical times one most characteristic feature of the 
worship of the dead among races of all grades of culture from the 
Australian aborigines to the Greeks and Romans. (Cf. Frazer l.c. 
The scholion he quotes—on Pind. Ol. I. 146—is clearly worthless). 
The most acceptable offering to the dead is blood ; and among a 
warlike people a natural way to provide this is by means of a combat 
over the grave. ‘That this was the underlying idea of the Etruscan 
and Roman gladiatorial shows has been held with much plausibility 
since the time of Varro, ap. Seru. Aen. III. 67. Examples of this 
in Greece in real or supposed sepulchral rites are the lithobolia at 
Trozen, Paus. II. xxxii. 2, the combat over the grave of Demophoon 
at Eleusis, Hom. /. Cer. 265, and the duel already mentioned at the 
funeral of Patroklos. (Cf. also Gardiner, p. 21. Why, if agones 
originate in hero-worship, do we find no traces of such a combat in 
any of them, unless we accept the hesitating aud unsupported testi- 
mony of Plutarch, O.C., 675C, that there formerly was one at 
Pisa? The only athletic event which might reasonably be imagined 
to have developed out of a ritual armed combat is the hoplite-race, 
which does not seem to have been one of che early contests at all. 
(Krause, Olymp. 75-6). | 

(2). Partly in view of these difficulties, a modification of this 
theory has recently been put forth by Cornford in Miss Harrison’s 
Themis, ch. VII. Like many other theorists on the subject, he pays 
attention principally to the Olympic games and starts from the 
legend of Pelops and Oinomaos. ‘This he identifies, on the lines of 
the well-known hypotheses of Frazer and of Cook (Zeus; cf. European 
Sky-god, Volk-Lore, March, 1904, and Zeus Juppiter and the Oak, 
CR XVII and XVIII) with the contest between the old and the 
young king, or rather the old and young embodiments of the local 
vegetation-daimon. He supposes that originally an actual combat 


.took place, on the authority of the passage of Plutarch already 


quoted. ‘Ihe races, etc., are ritual, having for, their object the 
chosing of the embodiment for the next quadrennium of the vegeta- 
tion-daimon. Probably the festival was originally annual, as the 
Lesser Olympia continued to be, Schol. Plat. Phaedy 236—Sieben- 
Kees Anecd. Graec. p. 59 (misnumbered 95). ‘The girls’ race at the 


IO THE GREEK AGONES 


Heraia, Paus. V. xvi. 2-4, has for its object the selection of a female 
representative of the vegetation-spirit. Thus we have, to use 
modern names, a King and Queen of the May, represented in the 
cult-legend by Pelops and Hippodameia. He suggests further, cf. 
Frazer op. cit. p. 91, that we have an astral element in the ritual. 
The union of Pelops and Hippodameia is the coming together of the 
sun and moon at the beginning of the enneateris, cf. Weniger, KlioV 
p. 18. This is indicated in another of the foundation-legends, that 
of the fifty daughters of Endymion, Paus. ib. i. 4, cf. viii. 1, which, 
with the similar tales of Danaos and of Antaios, Pind. Pyth. IX. 
» Filsqq., has the motif of a group of 48 or 50 maidens, explained as 
the number of months of a pentaeteris. Hence the bridegroom is 
in some sense solar, perhaps charged with the maintenance of the 
sacred fire which was intended to support the sun, while the bride 
is either connected with the moon, or, as the Danaides are perhaps 
water-nymphs, is charged with the supplying of water for rain- 
charms. 

Besides this ingenious but precarious collocation of legends, 
Cornford appeals to certain facts of ritual as affording support to the 
general theory that vegetation-magic lay behind the athletics at the 
agones. The first of these is the honour done to the victorous ath- 
lete, who not only heads the komos at the scene of the games but 
enters his native city in triumph, through a breach in the walls, 
i.e., through a sacred entrance, not the ordinary non-sacred gate 
(details in Krause, Olympia, p. 197) ; i.e., as Cornford interprets it, 
is given regal and divine honours, as befits an incarnate daimon. 
He also draws attention to the dvAAoPodic. As the few literary 
notices of this and the one or two vases which show it teach us 
(v. Dar. et Sagl. s.v. Certamina p. 1084 and figs. 182,1335), the 
victor was not only crowned but covered with garlands and fes- 
toons by the spectators ; a custom which suggests the dressing up of 
a mummer, representing the vegetation-spirit, in leaves and flowers, 
with which Mannhardt and Frazer have made us familiar. Finally, 

in support of the astral part of the theory, attention is called to the 
familiar fact that the 12 rounds of the longest races recall the 12 - 
signs of the Zodiac or the 12 months of the year. 

While put forward only as an explanation of the Olympic 
Games, it is evident that this theory will, if true, throw much light 
on the other festivals. The curious figures of Python, Melikertes, 
and Archemoros may all be explained as daimones, likely enough 


THE GREEK AGONES II 


connected with vegetation. This at once gets over the difficulties 
in (d) attending the application of (1) to these games: while the 
possible objection that the last two at least are consistently repre- 
sented as having been human beings is easily met by the reflection 
that we have several examples of a local daimon being converted by 
mythologizers into a hero or heroine, e.g., Charila at Delphi, Damia 
and Auxesia at Trozen. It has the further merit of introducing, to 
explain the phenomena under discussion, rites and ideas which are 
not only common among other peoples but to be found in Greece. 
These are however serious if not fatal objections. 

(a) Many of the arguments against (1) still apply with cqual 
force. ‘Those in (1, a) are untouched; supporters of this theory 
have still to get rid of a considerable number of agones dedicated, 
so far as we know, to gods and gods only, by the bare assumption 
that the dedication was changed in later times. ‘To these is added 
another difficulty. Admittedly the Olympic Games early attained 
great celebrity, so great that even the extraordinary privileges 
granted to the Eleans on account of the festival went back to a 
legendary past. Similar remarks apply in a less degree to other 
agones. How can this be explained if the deity to whom the cult 
was directed were an insignificant local daimon ? The only non- 
agonistic festival of pan-Hellenic importance was the Eleusinian 
Mysteries ; and the deities worshipped there were adored by all 
Greece, quite independently of the local ritual. If the further 
suggestion is right, that the festival was a celebration of the new 
year or new cycle, a /ustratio to enable Elis to begin afresh with all 
her spiritual debts cleared away, the problem becomes still more 
insoluble. The EHlean year did not begin at the same time as that 
of many other states ; why should so many of the Greeks join in 
celebrating a New Year which was not their own ? One can under- 
stand, on the former theory, the whole Peloponnesos and later 
the whole of Greece coming together to do honour to Pelops ; 
but no reason has yet been given why anyone outside of the state 
actually celebrating the agon should join in a ritual intended to 
sectlre prosperity for someone else’s fields. 

(b) The arguments under (1, c) again apply to some extent. 
Whether we assume Melikertes to be hero or daimon, the fact 
remains that his ritual was no part of the agon proper. At Delphi, 
Python is a prominent figure in the Stepteria, but all the ritual 
and legendary evidence points to Apollo as the god of the Pythian 


12 THE GREEK AGONES 


games. It might very well be held that in three of the dyGve; peyaXor | 
we have a merely fortuitous combination of two sets of cults : one | 
local, the worship of daimones or heroes,—Melikertes, a god of |} 
apiculture (so Maas, Griechen und Semiten auf dem Isthmus von | 


Korinth; the old identification with Melqart is untenable) ; Python, 
the attendant snake-daimon of an oracle of Ge-Themis ; Opheltes- 
Archemoros, one of those odd child-figures connected with the 
chthonian serpent of which Sosipolis of Ellis is the best-known 
representative (Paus. VI. xx 4); all of whom have non-agonistic 


rituals ; and side by side with them, Poseidon with his attendant 


Palaimon; Apollo, representing the new development of the 
mantic shrine ; and Zeus Nemeaios. 

(c) The theory largely depends on an interpretation of the 
myth of Pelops ; but as has been already indicated, the connection 
of this with the Olympic Games is shadowy. It might indeed be a 
vague recollection of some ancient rite of marriage by capture, 


of the sort familiar from M’Lennan’s Primitive Marriage and later | 


works, connected with a ritual myth, like that of Salmoneus, 
concerning an old belief in divine or at least magic-working kings ; 
but to show a connection between such ideas and the Games it must 
be shown that the athletic events ate reasonably derivable from 
magico-religious ritual. 

One foundation-myth does, it is true, definitely connect what 
look like vegetation-daimons with Olympia. Paus. V. vit. 6 sqq., 
informs us, on the authority of “‘ the Klean antiquaries,’’ that at the 
birth of Zeus the Idean Daktyls, “‘ who are also called Kuretes,”’ 
watched over the child, and that the eldest of them, Herakles, set 
his brother to run races, rewarding the victor witha wreath otf olive, 
whereof they had such abundance that they slept on it. But 
whether any safe conclusions can be based on a story which betrays 
its lateness by confusing the Daktyloi and Kuretes, introducing 
Herakles Idaios, and adorning his myth with details clearly borrowed 
from that of the son of Alkmene, is more than doubtful. It cannot 
be too clearly borne in mind that the later tales are often the most 
artificial combinations from all manner of sources, reflecting no 
real belief or ritual, and hence useless to support any theory. 

(d) It remains, then, to look for examples of ageraistic sports, 
whether running, wrestling, or what not, developed out of recognised 
magico-religious ritual. If any of the events in the actual agones 
can be traced back to such a source, it will become at least a legiti- 


{ 


THE GREEK AGONES 13 


mate hypothesis that the rest either were similarly developed or 
are late introductions, made after the real reason for the races, &c., 
was forgotten. The following is a fairly exhaustive list of what 
may be called competitive ritual. 

i. The lampadephoria. ‘here can be no reasonable doubt as 
to the origin of this. The fact of the race being won, not necessarily 
by the first runner to arrive at the goal, but by the first to arrive 
with his torch alight (Paus. I xxx 2), shows clearly that the torch 
was the important feature. The object was to bring new fire from 
a particularly pure source to kindle the other altar-fires. The 
obvious way to do this quickly and effectually was to run with the 
torch as fast as possible ; and a natural development of this among 
a sport-loving people was to turn the proceedings into a race. 
That it was not always a race, however, is clear from the fact that 
the holy fire was brought from Delphi to Plataea after the Persian 
War by a single runner (Plut. Avzst. 20). 

ii. The ritual of the Delphinia at Aigina goes back to just such 
anidea. Here we have, not fire, but water, to be brought as speedily 
as may be for ritual purposes. The race is on exactly the same lines 
as the lampadephoria, with a water-jar substituted for the torch. 
The staider Roman ritual contented itself with providing the Vestals 
with jars which could not be set down, to ensure their bringing 
them directly to the temple and not polluting them on the way by 
contact with the ground (Seru. Aen. XI 339). 

iii. There are several examples of beauty-competitions for 
both sexes (see e.g. Nils. 57, 94, 336, 392, 1). Here, again, the root 
idea is ritual ; for various purposes connected with the local worship 
an especially handsome person is wanted, and this method is 
adopted of discovering him. See the example on p. 57 Nils. for a 
particularly convincing instance. 

iv. The scourging of the Spartan boys at the altar of Orthia 
had certainly some ritual significance, whatever it may have been. 
That it developed into an endurance-contest is clear, cf. Nils. p. 193. 

v. Ritual dances being common, it is noticeable that the dance 
in 6371 might have been competitive if Halios and Laodamas had 
not been recognised champions. They danced alone merely because 
“no man strove with them.” 

vi. One or two undoubtedly agricultural festivals are character- 
ised by something like a race. The best-known instance is the 
ritual of the cradvAodpopor at the Karneia, Bekk. Anecd. I p. 305, 

B 


I4 THE GREEK AGONES 


which consists in the pursuit of an obvious incarnation of a vegeta- 
tion-daimon. 

Little knowledge of the details of the chief agones is needed to 
see that a great deal of this does not apply at all. The torch-race 
until about the fifth century was peculiar to the ritual of Hephaistos, 
Prometheus, and Athena, see Farn. C.G.S. V 378 sqq. cf. Dar. et 
Sagl. Lampadedroma p. 909. ‘The race of the water-carriers is 
found only in Aigina. There are no beauty-competitions in the 
Great Games. The savage ritual of Orthia is peculiar to Sparta. 
The agones do not include dancing. Finally the ritual of the 
staphylodromoi is not a real race, nor even a game of hare and 
hounds, for it did not matter which of the pursuers caught the 
incarnate daimon. That it ever developed into a race we have no 
grounds for supposing. There are, then, no sound reasons for 
holding that any of the familiar athletic events of the agones owe 
their origin to any ritual practices at all. 

(e). While the fact that many agones are not annual, as we 
should expect a vegetation-festival to be, may be paralleled by the 
quadrennial mysteries of Demeter at Keleai, Paus. II. xiv. 1, it is 
noteworthy that we have, as pointed out in (1) (e), no bloody con- 
tests, and that blood is a characteristic offering to a vegetation- 
daimon, such being no doubt the real reason for the ritual of Damia 
and Auxesia and of Demophon.* 

(3). A third attempt to connect the agones with religious or 
magical ritual has been made by some members of the Panbaby- 
lonian school, of whom Fries may be taken as an example. In 
pursuance of his fundamental thesis “ Die Hauptinhalt aller 
Mythologie ist die Himmelreise des Tagesgestirnes ”’ (p. 3), he 
gives the following explanation (ch. vii). The idea of a contest 
between the powers of light and darkness is found in Greek as in 
other mythologies; for instance, the contest of Apollo and the 
serpent (dpaxaiva in Hom. hymn. Ap. 300) where the opponent of 
the god, being female in the earliest tradition, is held to furnish a 
close parallel to Tiamut in the Babylonian story. he agon, com- 
memorating this elemental combat, assumes at times the form of a 
horse-race, aS we see from Persia (p. 158), and elsewhere. Granted 
this, it is further significant that many agones are at times of the 
year, such as the equinoxes and summer solistice, which are impor- 
tant landmarks in the annual course of the sun. Such, besides 


*For further criticism of this view, see Gardiner, Alleged Kingship, passim. 


BeBe ices 


THE GREEK AGONES 15 


Greek examples, are the Roman Equirria and the circenses missus 
of Mar. 1. Coming to the details of the races we have the form of the 
hippodrome, which has been connected with the Babylonian repre- 
sentation of the heavens. See Eiseler in Avchiv 1908 p. 150. The 
legend there discussed makes Solomon institute a series of 12 races, 
one for each month, and four parties, distinguished by colours, 
one for each season. Similar ideas are to be found on Greek soil in 
that form of the legend of Oinomaos (Malala Chronogr. VII. p. 173), 
which makes the hero and his opponents wear green and blue 
respectively, 7.¢., the colours of earth and sea ; while the colours of 
the Roman circus factions were similarly interpreted, and Cassio- 
dorus (Varia III. 51, p. 605 Bottigne) speaks of astrological symbols 
in the equipment of the race-track. Finally the twelve rounds of 
the race recall the twelve months of the year, and (p. 174) the whole 
story of Pelops and Oinomaos is of solar significance, for the race 
goes across the Peloponnesos, i.e., across the world, 13 unsuccessful 
suitors are slain, i.e., the 12 months and one intercalary month of 
the year (Pind. 01. 1 81), besides other features of a supposedly 
astral nature already mentioned under (2). 


This explanation is not likely to find much favour outside of | 


the school in which it originated. With regard to Greece, the follow- 
ing difficulties may be pointed out in addition to the general objec- 
tions to the application of any wide-reaching solar hypothesis to the 
mythology and ritual of that people (cf. Farnell, Greece and Babylon, 
passim). 

(a). The lateness of much of the evidence puts it entirely out 
of court. Myths, details of myths, and explanations of ritual of a 
distinctly astral tendency are precisely what one would expect in 
writers of the age of Cassiodorus or Malala, coming as they do long 
after a hypothesis very like that on which Fries and the other 
members of that school found their arguments, had gained wide 
acceptance. See Macrob. Sat. I. xvii., 2 omnes paene deos.. . . ad 
solem referunt, and the succeeding chapters. ‘To look to such 
writers for undistorted evidence of classical Greek belief would be 
like considering a treatise of Max Miller or Jeremias as an ancient 
document. 

(b). Granted the solar character of the 12-round race, what is 
to be made of those races which extended to 1, 7, 4, etc., of the 
length of the stadium? (see Gardiner p. 270). If Oinomaos for 
astral reasons slays 13 suitors, why have Pelops and Hippodameia 


16 THE GREEK AGONES 


(Pind. ib. 93) only 6 sons? Almost anything can be proved by 
selecting those scraps of myth or ritual which happen to fit one’s 
own theory and rejecting the rest ; but this procedure is not science. 
In this case, the arguments for solar ritual in the agones are obtained 
by putting on one side the overwhelming bulk of ancient evidence. 

(c). Looking at particular agones we find aconsiderable number, 
such as the Nemea, in connection with which we have no myth of a 
combat of gods, solar or otherwise. Others may be more or less 
plausibly connected with such a combat, such as the Panathenaia 
with Athena’s overthrow of Poseidon, or of the Giants, and the 
Pythia, where we have the definite statement that the games arose 
out of the victory of Apollo over Python. But until the solar 
character of either Athena or Apollo becomes more than an unsup- 
ported hypothesis, little attention need be paid to these facts. 
Helios himself appears in connection with games only at Rhodes, 
where nothing is known of the details of the agonistic ritual or 
myth, and at the Isthmus (Paus. II. i. 6), where the Akrokorinthos, 
and not the locality of the agon, becomes his property. 

In both the last two hypotheses, a further point should be 
noticed, namely the tendency to assume a fairly advanced calendar 
for the time when the festivals were founded. But, as has been 
recently shown (J.H.S. 1919, pp. 176 sqq.) by J. K. Fotheringham 
in his article on Kleostratos, Greek knowledge of such things was 
scanty before the period of that astronomer, cir. B.C. 550—500, 
who is said to have invented the oktaeteris and appears to haveintro- 
duced many of the results of Babylonian observation. Hence not 
only such theories as that put forward by Cornford, sup. 2, with 
regard to the myths of Danaos, etc., but the suggestion of Mommsen, 
Delph. 153—4, that the Pythia were originally held at the beginning 
of the oktaeteris, are hazardous in the extreme. 

(4). If then neither the cult of the dead nor that of vegetation- 
spirits nor solar beliefs will adequately explain the athletic parts 
of the agones, we are justified in regarding them as secular. since no 
other form of cult is claimed to have originated them. In this 
connection a striking fact may be mentioned. We have plenty of 
evidence that the programme of the games underwent all sorts of 
variations in course of time. A glance at Gardiner or Krause, or at 
the accounts of the growth of the Olympian and Pythian Games 
in Paus. V. vill. 6sqq., and X. vii. 2sqq., willillustrate this. Nothing 
could be in more outstanding contrast with the extreme conserva- 


THE GREEK AGONES 17 


tism which marks all religious ritual. This fact alone is enough to 
furnish a presumption in favour of the secular nature of the athletics. 

Another point is that not only athletic festivals but also markets 
and political assemblies were connected with the cult of various 
deities : which proves, if proof be needed, that actions regularly 
perfomed in the presence of a deity are not of necessity religious 
actions. 

As indicated in the opening paragraph, the existence of an 
assembly (cf. the frequent use of zamjyvpis practically = ayor)- 
will suffice to explain the athletics. Given an assemblage of Greeks 
under practically any circumstances, it would be almost inevitable 
that sports of some kind should be started. Hence the numerous 
agones, for the most part never repeated, in conjunction with 
funerals in the heroic age (and doubtless later), marriages, the end 
of a campaign, etc.; all being occasions which would bring a con- 
siderable number of people together with no very pressing business 
to occupy them for a time. 

Two kinds of assembly in particular would result in this way. 
The first was the regular gathering of pilgrims at the shrine of a god 
on the occasion of any great festival. This was no doubt the case, 
e.g., at Delphi, where the Pythia were held at a very holy time of 
the year. What was more natural than that an agon of some sort 
should be instituted spontaneously by the crowd of worshippers ? 

Another, and one of some importance, was the assembly of a 
victorious army at a festival of thanksgiving. Here we have the 
religious festival and the agon resulting simultaneously. To find a 
probable origin for many of the well-known agones we have only to 
imagine the thank-offering of the Ten Thousand made into a per- 
petual annual ceremony as the thank-offering for Marathon was, 
and the perpetuation of the sports follows naturally. That this was 
the origin of many of the games (Nemea, Olympia, re-founding of 
the Pythia) we are assured by numerous legends; and if Schol. 
Pind. ized. Neu. 2 and 5 can be trusted, the first of these festivals 
bore for a while the impress of its military origin in the fact that only 
‘soldiers or their sons ” (i.e., descendants of the Seven and their 
followers ? so Krause, Olymp. p. 40 n. 15) might compete. But to 
endeavour to make all agones originate in this way would be too 
narrow a view. 

To say that the athletics were not in their origin a religious 
ceremony is not to imply that they were in no way connected with 


18 THE GREEK AGONES 


religion. For a number of reasons, the sports at the agones were 
differentiated from ordinary exercises and surrounded with a certain 
sacrosanctity. 

(a) The keen delight in athletics and athletic prowess which 
characterised the Greeks and gave rise to the splendid amateur 
sentiments voiced by Pindar (Isth. I. 44 sqq.) naturally caused 
them to believe that similar feelings animated their gods and 
heroes. ‘Thus Kastor, Polydeukes, and Iolaos, above all Herakles, 
were great athletes (Pind. ib. 17, Ap. Rhod. II. 20 sqq., and numer- 
ous other passages). The gods themselves took part in the first 
competitions at Olympia, Paus. V. vii. 10, Apollo being particularly 
successful. This being so, it was natural to suppose that the gods 
and heroes of the locality in which the agon was celebrated were 
well pleased to see displays of athletic skill. It should, however, 
be noticed that this in itself does not make the games into an act 
of worship. Among a tribe who appear not to worship or fear their 
dead in any way, the Wa-Kavirondo (Zan 1906, 35) we find a rude 
sort of agon conducted at tombs to amuse and interest their occu- 
pants. 

(b) In particular, the gods most interested in such sports were 
those most representative of Greek ideals of civilization. Hermes, 
says Horace, Od. I. x 1-4, voicing a widespread Greek belief, 
civilised the primaval savagery of mankind not only by speeche- 
craft but decorae more palaestrvae. Apollo as an athlete has already 
been mentioned. Herakles was felt to have acted most worthily 
of himself when he founded that great civilising institution, the 
Olympic Games (Lys. xxxiii., 1-2, cf. Tim. ap. Polyb. XII., xxvi. 
2 =Miill. F.H.G.I. 97). On the other hand, as already shown, 
the more primitive and less civilised parts of Greek religion had 
little to do with the agones. Hence to appear as an athlete was to 
honour, if not exactly to worship, the gods most characteristically 
Hellenic. 

(c) The mere fact that the games took place in sacred spots 
and amid prayer and sacrifice was enough to make the visitors, 
and in particular the athletes, in some sense the guests of the gods. 
This is why the wreath is from the deity’s own tree,—olive at 
Olympia, laurel at Delphi, myrtle at the Iolaeia, &c. The god or 
hero is well pleased with the prowess of the athlete who has come 
to visit him, and honours him accordingly.. It was only at minor 
agones that the old custom of giving valuable prizes was kept up, 


THE GREEK AGONES 19 


for the most part ; and even here we find, in the Panathenaic vases 
filled with the oil from the sacred trees, evidence that the prize 
came from the god and was not a mere mortal gift. (See Momm. 
Feste p.69, Gardiner 241.) Hence it was that the victor on his return 
Was given such high honours by his city; for he had not merely 
proved himself superior to his competitors but won the clear and 
unmistakable favour of a god. 

(d). It is possible, though we are unable with our present 
material to prove it, that the athletes were conceived as making a 
sort of offering of first-fruits to the deity, parallel to the well-known 
offerings of hair, &c., on arriving at maturity. Competitors in 
all the events were classed by age alone, see Krause Agon p. 260 sqq., 
Gardiner 271 ; a procedure which obviously produced a great deal 
Ol uniairness in such events as boxing, wrestling, and the pankra- 
tion. It may have been that the athlete who for the first time com- 
peted as ephebos, for instance, was dedicating his strength or speed 
to the deity. His victory would then be proof that his offering 
was gladly accepted : while defeat would imply something very like 
Tejection. 

(e) The connection of so many myths of various kinds with 
the games, which has given some support to the theories above 
mentioned, is due to no one cause but to several concurrent pro- 
cesses of assimilation. For example, the frequent legends connecting 
am agon with some hero or daimon, sometimes important, like 
Pelops, sometimes insignificant save in local cult, like Melikertes, 
ate guite intelligible without postulating any actual connection 
between the hero and the games. The heroon was somewhere in 
or near the temenos of the god to whom the games were sacred. 
Therefore it was desirable to secure the favour of its indweller, 
especially desirable for the athletes to do so, The result was 
naturally sacrifice or other worship of the local deity not only as 
part of the festival, but as a private affair of the individual athlete. 

One curious little group of heroes or rather Sondergoétter 
actually grew out of a trivial accident in the build of the race- 
courses: these were the various Taraxippoi. At Nemea, says 
Paus., VI. xx. 19, the horses shied at the turn from a perfectly 
natural cause; they were dazzled by the light reflected from a 
large stone. At Olympia a similar object was recognizedly a 
daimon of some sort to whom prayers were offered, but no one knew 
who he was, although various theories were current. But the 


50) THE GREEK AGONES 


Isthmian Games enjoyed the presence of a nameable Taraxippos, 
no other than Glaukos, son of Sisyphos. Here, then, we have a 
pair of minor cults with no better foundation than the superstitions 
of charioteers. 

The need of a patron for one of the sports very likely caused 
the introduction of more than one cult in connection with agones. 
It is at least an ingenious conjecture of Weniger (Klo IV., p. 131) 
that the introduction of the worship of Pelops at Olympia should 
be dated 01.25, the time of the introduction of the chariot-race. 
Zeus was not particularly interested in equestrianism, and Pelops, 
apart even from the myth, was honoured elsewhere as a great 
charioteer, cf. Paus. II. xiv. 4. Had the patron of the Olympic 
games been Poseidon Hippios, we should probably have heard 
little or nothing of Pelops. A similar and less known figure is 
Eudromos at Delphi (B. corr. hell. XXIII., p. 611) into whose 
Tewevos Wine must not be brought. He is apparently the patron of 
runners in training. | 

It remains to discuss a few minor points in the constitution 
of the agones as sketched above. ; 

(a) The Sacred Truce (éxexepiu). It is unfortunate that 
we have so few details of this important and necessary feature of all 
agonistic festivals. Obviously no great concourse of pilgrims could 
possibly assemble in a country like Greece unless some sanction of 
a sort not to be disregarded by the most powerful or the most 
reckless protected them, not only against military forces hostile 
to the state through whose territories they might be passing or 
in which the agon was held, but also against brigands. This require- 
ment was met by the solemn proclamation by the state celebrating 
the festival of an ekecheiria, to violate which would be felt by the 
common consent of Greece to be a gross impiety. It is probable 
both a priovi and from the details we possess of the sacred truce 
of the Eleusinian Mysteries that the ekecheiria in the case of the 
Great Games lasted as long as two or even three months : it may 
have been sometimes under the special protection of a particular 
god. See Weniger Kio V. p. 201, Momm. Delph. 163-5. Its 
existence did not of course mean that all military operations were 
suspended, but 

(i.) To attack the assembled pilgrims was impiety of the worst 
soit, savagery fit only for Gauls or Scythians, says the Akarnanian 
ambassador at Sparta speaking of the violation of the Pamboiotia 


.™ 


THE GREEK AGONES 21 


by the Aitolians, Polyb. [X., xxxiv. 11. The athletes in particular 
were sacred, Plut. Arat. 28. ‘The late date of the events recorded 
is a good testimony to the way in which the sentiment survived 
repeated violations of the truce. 

(ii). An attack on pilgrims on their way to an agon was hardly 
less reprobated- At any rate, Philip II. of Macedon found it worth 
his while to make apology and restitution to Phrynon of Athens as 
the result of a piece of brigandage on the part of some of his men, 
Dem. xix., vroé. ii. 3. 

(iii). By a sort of extension of the ekecheiria, the territory of 
Elis was traditionally sacred. ‘The legend preserved by Ephoros 
ap. Strab. VIII. p. 358, puts the origin of this inviolability in 
mythical times,—it was due to a pact between Oxylos and the 
Herakleidai, just before the celebration of the games by Iphitos. 
The fact that although the warlike activitics of Elis herself caused 
heramviolability to be less respected (cf. Polyb. IV. Ixxiv. 1, 2), 
several invasions were either punished or checked by religious fear 
(list in Krause O/. p. 41 sqq., Weniger /.c., p. 194) shows how real 
this sentiment was. It was a symptom of the decay of religious 
sentiment in the decadence that Machanidas of Sparta had thoughts 
of an invasion actually during the celebration of the games, and 
would have carried out his sacrilege but for the promptness of Philip 
V. (Liv. XXVIII. vii. 14). Besides these peculiar privileges other 
states celebrating important agones enjoyed a certain consideration 
until quite late times, being granted e.g., remission of tribute by the 
Romans (Julian Epp. xxxiv. 5). 

It should be noted that the ekecheiria, though traditionally 
regarded as an invention of Iphitos (Paus. V. iv. 5) or Herakles 
(Uysand Tim. //. cc.) is mot peculiar to Greece. Ci. the mediaeval 
treuga Dei and the Nukahivan custom cited by Frazer on Paus. J. c. 

(b). The sacrifices. These were no doubt the original central 
feature of the agon, and the day of the chicf sacrifice remained the 
ereat day of the festival, however much its relative importance in 
popular estimation might be lessened by the interest in the athletics 
As in other festivals, offerings to lesser deities or heroes, especially. 
those in some way connected with the power in whose honour the 
agon was held, often preceded. Sacrifices were made not only by the 
hieropoioi or agonothetai presiding but also by the official représent- 
atives (Hewpol) sent to attend the festival from various friendly 
states, and by individual athletes. These last include offerings 


22 THE GREEK AGONES 


accompanied by prayers for favour and help in the games and also 
thank-offerings, often of a very elaborate nature (e.g., at Olympia, 
Schol. Pind. 01 V.5). In many cases also at ay. xpnpatiracthe prize 
was dedicated to the god, see Rouse p. 151 sqq. This might be done 
either at the place where the agon was held or at the victor’s home. 
The practice of setting up statues of the victor is perhaps best ex- 
plained as originally a form of thank-offering, although it soon be- 
came a mere method of honouring the victor himself. Other forms 
of dedication to the god were common ; see Rouse zbid. 

(c). The general management of the agon was entrusted to the 
aywvobera (Hellanodikai at Olympia ; /paf7s Soph. El. 690 does 
not seem to be an official title). There might be of course only one 
such official ; such are Drakontios in Xen. Anab. /. c., Achilles in 
’, Herakles, Pelops, Iphitos, Theseus, etc., in various foundation- 
legends. To appoint these persons was in historical times the pre- 
togative of the corporation which managed the festival. Hence 
it was an honour jealously contended for and strictly guarded. We 
find a stronger state (Argos) usurping it from a weaker one (Kleonai), 
Krause Pythien p. 139, and the larger political unit (Amphiktyones) 
from the smaller (Delphi). 1b. 42. On the other hand we find the 
Amphiktyones keeping the titular agonothesia even when the real 
management of the games was in other hands (Momm. Delph. 
166-7). 

(d). The crowning of the athletes. At dyoves orefaviras we can 
point to evidence of a double crowning. ‘The first is informal,—the 
wearing of wreaths by the victor immediately after the victory, 
see Weniger, Klio IV. p. 147, or by him and his friends at the xepos, 
Pind. Ol. III. 6 and Schol. ad loc. Of the same sort was the phyllo- 
bolia already referred to under (2). Polybios’ description of the 
manner in which the enthusiastic crowd at the Isthmia of B.C. 196 
half-killed Flamininus (XVIII. xlvi. 11-12) makes it unnecessary 
to suppose that it was anything more, in the case of athletes, than a 
form of vehement applause. But the formal crowning was a much 
more solemn affair with obviously religious details. ‘The crowns 
were cut from a sacred tree by a child free from the pollution of 
death (see e.g. Krause Pythien p. 49, Olymp. p. 161), wound with 
fillets, Krause Olymp. 1b., sometimes at least hallowed by being laid 
upon altars, so at Olympia, cf. Weniger /.c. This, together with the 
occasional representations in art of the victor being crowned by the 
god (see Rouse 179) justify us in thinking that, as already stated, 


THE GREEK AGONES 23 


the garland was a divine and not a human gift. To assume further 
with Weniger that the victor ‘‘ wird dadurch dem (Gott) geweiht ” 
is unnecessary. 1ikns weipar é€yovTar ev dBavdrowr Oeoiow (H 102) 
is explanation enough. 

(e). The komos which followed upon the victory, perhaps at the 
end of the games, does not seem to have had any particular religious 
significance. It was so far as we can judge merely a glorified version 
of the merry-making which usually attended a Greek banquet, the 
occasion being further graced by the singing of the traditional song of 
Archilochos (Bergck fr. 119) in honour of the victor, or else of a new 
ode written forthe purpose. It was a prelude tothe more extensive 
celebrations on the return home. See Pind. 01. IX. init. and schol. 
ad. loc., cf. IV. 6 sqq., Krause Olymp. p. 178 sqq. Gardiner 206-7. 

(f). The extent to which any particular agon was international 
varied with the circumstances. Any state which instituted one might 
invite whom it pleased to share in it by sending theoriai or other- 
wise ; but it was normally open to those invited to accept (dexerGa u 
Tov ay va) or not. Not to accept, however, was an expression of 
unfriendliness more or less pronounced. ‘Thus we find the members 
of the Delian confederacy expected to take part in the Panathenaia, 
the Amphiktyonic citiesinthe Pythia; while the political leanings 
of Byzantion in the third century B.C. were indicated by the fact 
that it was represented at the Pergamene agon in honour of Athena, 
but not at the Bithynian Soteria, Polyb. IV. xlix. 3. On the other 
hand, Elis was definitely excluded from the Isthmia, Paus. V. ii. 2 
and Lampsakos from the agon of Miltiades, Hdt. VI. xxxviii., 1. 
In general, none but Greeks might take part, although barbarians 
might witness the games. ‘The admission of Macedonians and 
Romans in later times was justified only by their supposed Greek 
descent. Other regulations varied with the locality of the particular 
agonin question. Only the four great agones were really panhellenic, 
and their importance for the spread and intensification of Hellenic 
culture has been too often insisted on to need any notice here. 

The decadence. ‘The innumerable agones whichin Macedonian 
and Roman times were celebrated all over the civilized world are of 
no importance for the present subject. They exhibit no novelties, 
and are practically empty of religious meaning. Their discussion 
belongs to histories of the later professional athleticism or of the 
hellenizing of Asia Minor and Italy. An edict of Theodosius I., 
393 A.D., marks the end of such festivals. 


24 THE GREEK AGONES 


Roman agones. ‘These again call for no special remark. They 
were a natural product of the hellenization of Latin worship which 
had already shown itself in the theatrical Judi Graeci. From the time 
of Pompey onwards we get the introduction of Greek athletes into 
Roman festivals, and under the empire several definite imitations 
of the Great Games. See Wissowa, RKR’ 464-5. While nominally 
in honour of various deities they have no real connection with any 
native religious feelings. 

Literature :— 

J. H. Krause, Gymnastik und Agonstik der Hellenen, Leipsig 
1841 (“ Agonistik ’’) 

Olympia, Vienna 1838. 

Die Pythien, Nemeen und Isthnuen, Leipzig 1841 
(" Pythien™). 

A. Mommsen, Delpiwka, VWeipzig 1878. (“ Delph.’’). 

* Peste der Stadi Athen, Werpzig VSS. aig weesie <2). 

Sir J. G. Frazer, The Golden Bough, third edit., London, 1911, 
and toll. pyeatcas Gy GB). 

Pausanmas’ Description of Greece translated 
with a commentary, London 1898. (“on 
Pasay) ; 

L.R. Farnell, Cults of the Greek States, Oxtord 1896-1909. (“C.G.S.’’)* 

W. H. D. Rouse, Greek Votive Offerings, Cambridge 1902. 

L. Weniger, Das Hochfest des Zeus in Olympia, in Kho vols. IV. 

and V. 

M. P. Nilsson, Griechische Feste von religidser Bedeutung, Leipzig 

1906 (“‘ Nils.’’). 

I’. Fries, Das Zagmukfest auf Scheria, Leipzig 1910. 

J. E. Harrison, Themis, Cambridge 1912. Ch. VII. “ The origin 

of the Olympic Games ’”’ by F. M. Cornford. 

ky. Norman Gardiner, Greek athletic sports and festivals, London 

1910. Contains an extensive bibliography. 

A ms Alleged Kingship of the Olympic Victor in 

Annual of British School at Athens, No. 
XXII. ; 
H. J. ROSE. 


*See also Greek Hero-Cults by the same author, Oxford 1921: 


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A FEW NOTES ON THE FAMILIAR 
EF TITERS of JAMES HOWELL 


— 


The Epistole Ho-Eliane have been described by their principal 
editor as ‘‘the most important contribution Wales has made to 
English literature.” They are at least well worth reading, and 
unless the reader be the most superficial of skimmers and skippers 
he must care to have his difficulties explained. There are bound to 
be difficult places in any writer who was born over three centuries 
back, and the character of Howell’s composition makes such places 
especially numerous. We have been told that “ The ‘ Familiar 
Letters ’ stand in little need of erudite notes. The incidents they 
relate, the people they describe, are for the most part well known, or, 
at least, easy to know. The fantastic stories had best be taken as 
they stand. The dim quotations fade from our memories.” In 
spite of Miss Repplier’s sentiments I venture to put forth these few 
explanatory notes, which have ndeed no claim to be erudite. They 
are offered as a selection. Joseph Jacobs’s Annotations (1892 ; 
the first vol. of his edition, containing the Text, was published in 
1890) leave a great number of puzzles unsolved. I have not thought 
it worth while to include in this present paper references for quota- 
tions from Virgil, Horace, and Ovid (especially Ovid) which he failed 
to recognize. 

To save trouble, Jacobs's text, though resting on no critical 
principles, has been follow ee, and the pages given are those of his 
edition. 


ANE Vote, or a Poem-Roval, lines 48-51, p.7: 


Til try and hope to pass without Disdain, 
In New-Year-Gifts, the Mind stands for the Main. 
The Sophy, finding twas well meant, did deign 
Few Drops of running Water from a Swain. 

Jacobs has a note that the Sophy is the Shah of Persia, which hardly 
satisfies an intelligent reader’s curiosity. The story—it is difficult to read at all 
widely without coming on it—is told by Plutarch in his Life of Artaxerxes, 
chap.5, and ‘ Apophth,’ 1724. When the king was on a Progress and everyone 


was bringing him some present, according to the Persian custom, a husbandman 
haying nothing else to offer fetched some water in his hands from the river, 


27 


28 HOWELL’S LETTERS 


and was rewarded by the king with a gold cup and a thousand darics.} 
Aelian, ‘ Varia Historia,’ I., xxxii., tells the story at greater length, and gives 
the man’s name as Ywairys. George Herbert in a letter of thanks of June 
14, 1620, written by him as Public Orator of the University of Cambridge, 
when James I. had intervened to preserve the navigation of the Ouse, makes 
an application of the story: 


“Quod si Avtaverxes olim paululum aquae a Ljinaeta* subjecto suo 
laetissimé sumeret, quanto magis par est nos, humillimos subjectos, integro 
Fluvio a Rege nostro donatos, triumphare ?’”’ ‘ Works’ (1853) vol. 1., p. 380. 
For the occasion see C. H. Cooper, “ Annals of Cambridge,’ vol. i11., pp. 133 sqq. 


The Vote, or a Poem-Royal,’ lines 96, 97, p. 8: 
Nor hath fair Lurope, her vast Bounds throughout, 
An Academy of Note I found not out. 


Academy should, of course, be Academe. See the 2nd edition, to which 
the poem is first added. 


The Vote, or a Poem-Rovyal, \l. 191 sqq., p. 11: 
For as the Ocean, besides Ebb and Flood, 
(Which Nature’s greatest Clerk ne’er understood) 
Is not for Sail . . 


ce 


Howell’s marginal note to this is “‘ Hippocrates.” But it is of Aristotle 
that the story is told. See Justin Martyr, ‘Ad Graecos Cohortatio,’ 36, 
where we have the legend that the philosopher died of chagrin at being 
unable to discover the explanation of the Euripus at Chalcis. In Suidas 
Aristotle is called a ‘‘ Clerk of Nature, dipping his pen in Mind.” 


‘To the knowing Reader touching Familiar Letters,’ ll. 55-58, 
p. 14, 
Tully makes his the secret Symptoms tell 
Of those Distempers which proud Rome befel ; 
When in her highest Flourish she would make 
Her 7 yber from the Ocean Homage take. 


Compare the first words of John Barclay’s ‘ Argenis’: “‘ Nondum Orbis 
adoraverat Romam, nondum Oceanus decesserat Tybri.”’ 


+Compare Jeremy. Taylor, “Holy Wiving,’ chap. 2, sect. 2) “ihe poor 
farmer that gave a dish of cold water to Artaxerxes was rewarded with a 
golden goblet; and he that gives the same to a disciple i the name of a 
disciple shall have a crown.” 

* The name appears thus in the 1853 (Pickering) edition of Herbert’s 
Works and in Cooper’s ‘Annals.’ But in reply to an appeal for information 
the present Iuwblic Orator has most kindly shewn me that this is an error. 
Dr. Glover not only sends a memorandum from Mr. C. W. Previté-Orton to 
the effect that Sinacia is given by Grosart’s edition of Herbert (111. 541), in 
which the letters are said to be printed after collation with the Public 
Orator’s Book, but writes ‘‘ By the courtesy of Mr. Stonebridge at the 
University Registry, I have been enabled to consult the actual Public 
Orator’s book, Tom. ii. p. 538, where the reading is eg! Sineta. 
Mr. Stonebridge also read the initial At Once as: Se 


HOWELL’S LETTERS 20 


Book I., Sect. 1, xi., p. 36: The nine hundred and odd Soldiers 
at lishing, and the Rammakins hard by. 


And Sect. 2, vii., p. 105: The Cautionary Towns in the Low 
Countries, Flushing and Brill, with the Rammakuns. 


» 


One of Jacobs’s ‘“‘ Queries ’’ on p. 808 is ““ Where were the Rammakins ? ” 
The answer is easy, with the very plain direction in the first of these passages. 
Fort Ramimekens is on the coast of the island of Walcheren at the S. entrance 
of the channel between Walcheren and S. Beveland. The ‘ Index Geographi- 


cus’ published by Blackwood and Sons in 1864 gives its position as 51.27 N, 
3.39K. 


‘Book I., Sect. 1, xiti., p. 39: I will borrow my Conclusion to 
you at this time of my Countryman Owen: 


Uno non possum quantum te diligo versu 
Dicere, st satis est Distichon, ecce duos. 


I cannot in one Verse my Love declare ; 
If Two will serve the turn, lo here they are. 


The Latin is no. 106 in the seventh book of John Owen’s ‘ Epigrammata,’ 
to adopt the conveniently continuous numbering of A. A. Renouard’s edition, 


Paris, 1794. The couplet is addressed by Owen to Theodore Price ‘ Oxon. 
Theol.”’ 


Pieliensect. xvi), p, 43, 0. or (as' Mankind was call’d: by. 
a great Philosopher) a great Mole-hill of Ants. 


The philosopher is Menippus in the nineteenth section of Lucian’s ‘ Icaro- 
menippus.’ Howell comes back to the thought in Bk. IV., xxxix., p. 626, 
“It [the World] is but a vale of Troubles, and we who are in it are like so many 
Ants trudging up and down about a Mole-hill.”’ 


ioral ocel, 14, XxXvill., pr'So, | 2). yet one may. say : 


Qut miseranda videt veteris vestigia Romae, 
Ille potest merito dicere Roma fut. 


This is the first half of an epigram to be found on p. 4 of Franciscus 


Sweertius’s collection, ‘ Selectae Christiani Orbis Deliciae ex Urbibus, Templis, 


Bibliothecis, et aliunde,’ Cologne, 1608, where it is attributed to Georgius 
Brugensis. Lines 3 and 4 are 


At qui celsa novae spectat pallatia ROMAR, 
Hic merito poterit dicere, ROMA viget. 


30 HOWELL’S LETTERS 


Book I., Sect. 15 Xxxix., p. 87; «1: for decds ave iy, but 
words ave Women, and Sect. 5, xxi., p. 270, They say in Jialy, 
that Deeds are Men, and Words are but Women. 


Compare Palingenius, ‘ Zodiacus Vitae,’ iv., 805, 
Verbaque foemineae vires sunt, facta virorum. 


Book I., Sect. 2, viii., p. 106, from the Lord Savage’s House in 
Long-Melford. 


This, as Jacobs notes, was the Hall. for those who have not the happi- 
ness of knowing “‘ the most picturesque village in Suffolk ’’ it should perhaps 
be added that the Hall, the fine Elizabethan mansion, formerly the home 
of the Cordells, now of the Parkers, is one of three important houses in the 
parish, and must be distinguished from Kentwell Hall, at one time the seat 
of the Cloptons (Sir Simonds D’Ewes’s second wife came from here), as well as 
from Melford Place, once the Martyns’s. But more famous than these is 
the “‘ great house of Long Melford ” in which Isopel Berners was born and 
passed her childhood. 


The present letter of Howell’s is given in ‘ The History of Long Melford ’ 
by Sir William Parker Bart., privately printed in 1873. A note on p. 332 of 
this work informs us that the “ Gallery ” from which ‘‘ one may see much of 
the Game when they are a-hunting ”’ was the bridge-suspended between the 
towers of the entrance-court, since taken down. Howell in Bk. I., Sect. 2, 
xil., p. 111, writes with reference to the proposal that he should travel with 
two sons of Lord Savage (not Lord Savage at that date, as Jacobs points out), 
“but finding myself too young for such a Charge, and our Religion differing.”’ 
This passage is referred to in Jacobs’s index as showing that Lord Savage 
was a Roman Catholic. But Sir W. Parker says, p. 331 of his History, that 
“ Though Lady Savage and the children were of this religion, it seems that 
Lord Savage did not profess the same; and he had at this time a resident 
domestic chaplain, who was a Protestant, the office being held by the Rev. 
John Kidby, who afterwards became Rector of Sleafield, in Essex.” 


Book I., Sect. 2, xiii., p. 113, we went afterwards to the Hague, 
where there are hard by, tho’ in several Places, two wonderful things 
to be seen, the one of Avt, the other of Nature ; that of Avtis a 
Wagon, or Ship, or a Monster mix’d of both, like the Hippocentaur, 
who was half Man and half Horse: This Engine hath Wheels and 
Sails that will hold above twenty People, and goes with the Wind, 
being drawn or mov’d by nothing else, and will run, the Wind being 
good and the Sails hois’d up, above fifteen miles an hour upon the 
even hard Sands. 

This is Prince Maurice’s celebrated sailing chariot of which we read in 


‘Tristram Shandy,’ Vol. ii. chap. 14, “invented by Stevinus, that great 


mathematician and engineer,” of whom my uncle Toby was so inopportunely 


) 
- 
L 
. 
{ 


HOWELL’S LETTERS 31 


reminded, to see which Dr. Slop walked two long miles to Schevling on his 
return from Leyden through the Hague. Grotius devoted a poem to it, 
“Iter Currus Veliferi,’ in the Ist book of his ‘ Farrago,’ pp. 224-227 in the 
1617 ed. of his ‘ Poemata Collecta,’ besides a set of epigrams, pp. 381-392. 
Uncle Toby, by the way, was mistaken when he said that the learned Peires- 
kius ‘‘ walked a matter of five hundred miles, reckoning from Paris to Schev- 
ling, and from Schevling to Paris back again to see it,—and nothing else.” 
Peireskius, we are told in Gassendi’s ‘ Nic. Claudii Fabricii de Peiresc Vita,’ 
1651, pp. 123, sq., crossed to Holland from England, his special object being to 
meet Scaliger. Schevelingen he visited from the Hague, whether on foot or 
otherwise we are not told (p. 128). The Wonder of Nature mentioned by 
Howell should have had a strong claim on Dr. Slop’s professional interest, as it 
was the monument commemorating the 365 children “ which were all de- 
liver’d at one Birth.”’ 


Book I., Sect. 3, xxx. p. 192, Avistotle [would have] the Heart, 
to be the first fram’d. 


See his ‘ De partibus Animalium,’ III., iv., about 4 through the chapter, 
. > o” , ’ ~ , , 
Eidews yap eoTw €vawysos Tpwrn yryvopevy THY poplwy amravTwr. 


Bk. I., Sect. 3, xxx., p. 192, and these three [souls] in Man are 
like Tvigonus in Tetragono. 


Compare Burton, ‘ Anat. of Melancholy,’ I.i 2. §5, ““ which are contained 
in it (saith Avistotle) ut trigonus in tetrvagono, as a Triangle in a Quadrangle,” 
and Aristotle, “ De Anima,’ B. 3, §6, 414b (References to Aristotle are as dis- 
tressing as Italian nomenclature), oiov év TET payover ev T ply wvov. 


Bk. I., Sect. 4, xi., p. 224, I wish there were a Crystal-casement 
in my Breast, thro’ which you might behold the motions of my Heart. 


A reference to Momus’s criticism of the defect in Hephaestus’s construc- 
tion of Man, Lucian, ‘ Hermotimus,’ 20. Sterne’s use of the storyin ‘ Tristram 
Shandy, vol. i. chap. 23 will be familiar, as well as the couplet in 
‘Hudibras ’: 


Nature has made Man’s breast no Windows, 
To publish what he does within doors. 


Part II., Canto ii., 369 sq. 


Bk. IL., Sect. 4, xi. p. 224,—Utinamg. oculos in pectore posses 
INCESSEYE. 

Meaning and metre are to seek in these words, but see Ovid, ‘ Meta- 
morphoses,’ ii. 93. 


Utinamque oculos in pectora posses 
iInserere. 


32 HOWELL’S LETTERS 


Book I., Sect. 4, xix., p. 234, There is a Saying which carries 
no little weight with it, that Parvus amor loquitur, ingens stupet ; 
Small love speaks, while great love stands astonished with silence. 


The Latin seems to have been formed from line 607 of Seneca’s ‘Phaedra’ 
( Hippolytus ’), 


Curae leves loquuntur, ingentes stupent. 


Book I., Sect. 5, xvi., p. 267, Nullum fit magnum ingenium 
sine mixtura dementiae, there’s no great Wit without some mixture 
of madness ; so saith the Philosopher. 


Seneca near the end of his ‘ De Tranquillitate,’ xvii. 10, ascribes “ nullum 
magnum ingenium sine mixtura dementiae fuit ’’ to Aristotle. We may note 
as a coincidence that Jonson quotes this same alleged saying of Aristotle 
from Seneca, in his ‘ Discoveries,’ and that the present letter of Howell is 
addressed ‘‘ To my Father, Mr. Ben. Johnson.” 


Book I., Sect. 5, xviii., p. 268, I love not those viscosa beneficia, 
those birdlim’d Kindnesses which Pliny speaks of. 


But Pliny does not speak of them in these words. What he says, “ Epistu- 
lae,’ ix. 30, 2, is “‘ Hos ego viscatis hamatisque muneribus non sua promere 
puto sed aliena corripere.’’ Seneca comes nearer Howell’s quotation with 
“ Quisquis nostrum tutam agere vitam volet, quantum plurimum potest, 
ista viscata beneficia devitet.’’ ‘ Epist.’ 8, 3, “‘ those limed benefits ’’ in 
Lodge’s Translation (1614). 


Bk. I., Sect. 5, xxiii., p. 274, I have lately bought in fee-farm 
Wanless Park, of the King’s Commissioners, for my Lord. 


Jacobs’s note on ‘‘ Wanless Park”’ is ‘““ Not in the Gazetteers.”” If we 
remember to whom the letter is addressed (The Countess of Sunderland), and 
examine the contents with care, we see that the place is most certainly 
Wanlass Park. See the ‘ Victoria Hist. of the County of York, North 
Riding,’ vol. i., 286, under the parish of West Witton. 


Bk. I., Sect. 6, iii., p. 298, There was there for the Queen Gilpin 
as nimble a Man as Suderman. 


In his ‘‘ Queries’ on ‘‘ points left unsettled in the preceding annota- 
tions,” p. 808, Jacobs asks who “‘ Mr. Gilpin’ was. Is he not George Gilpin 
(1514 ?-1602, ‘ D.N.B.’), the diplomatic agent of the English government in 
Zeeland ? 


HOWELL’S LETTERS 33 


Bk. I., Sect. 6, xxxiv., p. 339, Iam shortly bound for Ireland, 
and it may be the Stars will cast a more benign Aspect upon me in 
the West ; you know who got the Perszan Empire by looking that 
way for the first beams of the Sun-rising, rather than towards the 
East. 


¢ , 


Jacobs’s note on “ who got the Persian Empire ” is “‘ This seems like a 
reference to Darius Hystaspes, but differs from the account in Herod, iii. 84.” 


The story which Howell had in mind was not that of Darius Hystaspes 
who in Herodotus’s well-known legend was chosen king from among his 
fellow conspirators because his horse was the first to neigh at sunrise. What 
Howell was referring to is told about the city of Tyre by Justinus, Hist. 
xviii. 3. The slaves here rise against the citizens who have been weakened by a 
long and successful struggle with the Persians. They massacre the free male 
population, and decide to choose a king from among their own class by the 
singular process of selecting the man “ qui solem orientem primus vidisset.”’ 
Needless to say, atnong the innumerable false one has been faithful found 
He has spared his aged master and his master’s little son, and now brings out 
the old man to join in the competition. The event can be told in the words 
of Fuller who gives it in the twenty-second ‘ Historical Application ’ of his 
‘Good Thoughts in Bad Times ’ (1645) : ““ Whilst all others were gazing on the 
east, one alone looked on the west. Some admired, more mocked him, as if 
he looked on the feet, there to find the eye of the face. But he first of all dis- 
covered the light of the sun shining on the tops of the houses.’’ Justinus’s 
moral is “Tunc intellectum est, quantum ingenua servilibus ingenia 
praestarent, malitiaque servos, non sapientia vincere.”’ 


Book L., Sect. 6, liii., p. 365, I will conclude with a Distich which 
I found among those excellent Poems of the late Pope : 


Quem valide strinxit praestantr pollice virtus, 
Nescivus est solv1 nodus amicitiae. 


The lines will be found on p. 203 of ‘ Maphaei S.R.E. Card. Barberini 
Nune Urbani PP. viii. Poemata’ Antwerp, 1634, or on p. 122 in the Oxford 
edition of 1726. They are 27 and 28 of a piece headed ‘ Ad Bernardinum 
Capponium.’ But Howell’s stvinxit should be stvingit, and nodus, nexus. 


Bk. I., Sect. 6, lvii., p. 369, . . . whereas Varro said, That the 
eteat World was but a House of a little man, I hold a Fleet to be 
one of the best lodgings in that House. 


Varro’s words are, 


Mundus domus est maxima homulli, 


34 HOWELL’S LETTERS 


It is the first line of an extract from his Menippean satire ‘ Dolium aut Seria,’ 
quoted by Probus, ‘In Vergilii Bucolica et Georgica Commentarius,’ p. 18 in 
H. Keil’s edition, Halle, 1848; Probus is commenting on ignis in Eclogue 
vi. 33. The lines are included as Fragm. 92 in Biicheler’s collection of ‘ Varro- 
nis Menippearum Reliquiae ’ in his edition of Petronius. 


Bk. IT., x., p. 395, Nay, the Prince of darkness himself, and all 
the Cacodemons, by an historical faith, believe there is a God, 
whereunto the Poet alludes very divinely : 


Nullus in Inferno est Atheos, ante futt. 


The poet is John Owen. The line is the second of a distich with the 
heading Paradoxon, being no 90 (91) in book x of the ‘ Epigrammata,’ accord- 
ing to the continuous numbering of the books in Renouard’s edition. The 
first line of the couplet is 

Descendat tristem licet Atheus omnis in Orcum. 

Fuller has the same quotation as Howell in chap. vi. of ‘ The Profane State.’ 


Bk. II., xi., p. 398, Thai the Word ts lucens Dei filius, the 
bright Son cf God. 


For this, quoted by Howell as one of the “‘ very many divine Sayings ” of 
Hermes Trismegistus, see page 2 of the 1554 (Paris) edition of the ‘ Poeman- 
der,’ O & ex vods dwrewwds Adyos, vids Peov. In Marsilio Ficino’s rendering 
this is ““ verbum lucens, Dei filius.” 


Book II., xi., p. 398, Plato flew highest in divine notions, for 
some call him another Moses speaking Athenian. 


“ Eusebius (Praep. Ev. ix. 6, xi. 10), citing Aristobulus and Numenius, 
says Ti yao eore HAatwrv. 7) Mwiions atrixé(wv; Compare also the same 
work, xi. 16-25-29, and xiii 18, where the harmony between Plato and Moses, 
and the preference of the author for Plato over other Greek philosophers, are 
earnestly declared *’ Grote, ‘ Plato, and the other Companions of Sokrates,’ 
3rd ed. vol. iii. 285. 


The Greek words given above are quoted in Clement of Alexandria, 
“Stromata ’, I. 342 as by Numenius of Apamea. 


Bk. II., xi., p. 398, In one of his [Plato’s] Letters to a Friend of 
his he writes thus, When I seriously salute thee, I begin my Letter 
with one God; when otherwise, with many. 


HOWELL’S LETTERS 35 


Bk. II., xi., p. 399, Which made the Philosopher, being com- 
manded by his King to define God, to ask the respite of a day to 
meditate thereon, then two, then four ; at last he ingenuously con- 
fess’d, that the more he thought to dive into this mystery, the more 
he was ingulph’d in the speculation of 1t. 


The story is told by Cicero, ‘ De Natura Deorum,’ I. xxii. 60, of Simonides 
and King Hiero, the poet’s final answer being ““ Quia, quanto diutius considero, 
tanto mihi res videtur obscurior.’’ Minucius Felix, ‘ Octavius,’ 13, gives the 
same dvamatis personae as Cicero. But with Tertullian, ‘ Liber Apologeticus,’ 
46, and‘ Ad Nationes,’ II. ii., it is Thales and Croesus. 


Bk. I1., xvii., p. 408, .. . according to the Cicervonian maxim, 
Deliberandum est diu quod statuendum est semel. 


The maxim is one of Publilius Syrus’s ‘ Sententiae.’ Various forms of 
the line are found. In R.A.H. Bickford-Smith’s edition it is given as 


Deliberandum est saepe, statuendum est semel, 


Bk. II., xxiv., p. 416, there is another example of a Roman 
Famipress:... . . 


And Bk. IV., vii., p. 567, If there was an Empress in Rome so 
ennmine .. . 


Jacobs remarks on the first passage “‘ Probably Messalina is referred to.’’ 
No. Itis Julia, daughter of Augustus. See Macrobius, ‘ Saturnalia,’ II., v. 9. 


Jacobs should have known his Boswell better (April 7, 1776). 


Bk. II., xxxiv., p. 427, Moreover, besides this Letter of mine, 
your Lordship will find that he carrieth one in his countenance ; 


for an honest ingenious Look 1s a good Letter of recommendation of 
itself. 


This is a modification of the saying attributed to Aristotle by Diogenes 
Laertius, v., 1, 11, 18, though he adds that some gave it to Diogenes : To 
KdiAXos mavtos eheyev ervotoAiov cvaTaTLKWTEpov. ot de TOUTO peV 

/ \ ct / > Q \ lal nm b} - >) / 
Avoyevny dhaciv opicac Fa, avTov de Oeot dwpov eimety EVLOPPLav. 

iA . . i ” AN 
Ménage compares Stobaeus, Florilegium, 65, 11, "A piatoteAns epy TO 

y , > aA , > sate ; 
KéAXos racns exiotoAns TvaoTaTLKWTEpoV eivat, and Publilivs Syrus’s 


Formosa facies muta commendatio est. 


Book II., 1., p. 444, that Philosopher was but a kind of frantic 
fool, that would have pluck’d out both his Eyes, because they were 
a hindrance to his speculations. 


36 HOWELLS LETTERS 


Among his ‘ Queries’ on p. 808 Jacobs asks who this philosopher was. 
Surely Democritus is meant. One must at least shut both one’s eyes to escape 
the sight of references to the story. Ménage in his Commentary on Diogenes 
Laertius, has a note on IX., 7, 11, 43; vol. ii. pp. 410, 411, in the ed. of 1692, 
containing a list of acts and sayings of Democritus about which Diogenes is 
silent in his Life. No. 3 of these is “ Oculis suis sponte se privavit,’’ and under 
this heading he collects passages in which the legend is mentioned in ancient 
literature : Cicero, ‘ De Finibus,’ v. 29, 87, who refrains from vouching for its 
truth ; Plutarch, ‘ De Curiositate,’ c. 12, who says it is not true that Demo- 
critus intentionally destroyed his sight by gazing on a red-hot mirror; A. 
Gellius, X. xvii., according to whom ‘“‘ Democritum philosophum in monumen- 
tis historiae Graecae scriptum est . . . luminibus oculorum sua sponte se 
ptivasse, quia existimaret, cogitationes commentationesque animi sui in 
contemplandis naturae rationibus vegetiores et exactiores fore, si eas videndi 
inlecebris et oculorum impedimentis liberasset.”’ But Gellius does not tell us in 
what “‘ monumenta historiae Graecae ”’ he had read this tale. He quotes some 
lines from Laberius’s mime ‘ Restio ‘ (‘ The Ropemaker ’), in which a miser 
speaks of Democritus blinding himself by catching the rays of the sun on a 
brazen shield, in order that he might not see the prosperity of his wicked 
fellow-citizens. Tertullian, Lib. Apol. 46, says that Democritus blinded him- 
seif ‘‘ quod mulieres sine concupiscentia aspicere non posset.” Burton, who 
refers to Democritus’s blindness in several passages, quotes these words of 
Tertullian in III. iii. 4. §2 of his ‘ Melancholy.’ In his Introduction, ‘ Demo- 
critus to the Reader,’ Burton writes “ I find it related by some, that he put out 
his eyes.”’ and quotes in the margin a few words from Sabellicus, evempl. lib. 10. 
(i.e. Marci Coccii Sabellici Exemplorum Libri Decem. Burton’s quotation is 
taken from the first chapter of Bk. i1.). 


Bk. IL., lvii., p. 465, Now Anatolia is the most populous part of 

the whole Earth ; for Stvabo speaks of sixteen several Nations that 

slept in her bosom, and ‘tis thought the twenty-two Languages 

which Mithridates, the great Polyglot King of Pontus, did speak were 

all within the circumference of Anatolia, in regard his dominions 
extended but a little further. 


Jacobs’s note on this passage is ‘‘ Mithvidates, King of Pontus, is said to 
have known twenty-five (not twenty-two) languages (Justin, xxxvii. 2). 
Moryson makes the same mistake, 1. 22, and handed it on to H.”’ 


On this it may be remarked that 1. Justinus affords us no information, 
either in xxxvil., 2, or in any other extant passage of his History, as to the 
number of languages known by Mithradates. 2. Twenty-two (not twenty-five) 
is the number given in the best texts of Gellius, xvii. 17, 2, and in Pliny, 
‘Nat. Hist.’ vii. 24 (24), 88, and xxv. 2 (3), 6, when they are describing the 
king’s linguistic attainments. 3. On page 22 of the First Part of Fynes 


Moryson’s ‘ Itinerary’ the only occurrence of twenty-two is in 
two English beere quarts.” 


“some twenty 


HOWELL’S LETTERS 37 


The passage to which Jacobs ought to have referred is on p. 16 of the 
Third Part, Book I., chap. ii. (vol. iii, p. 381, in MacLehose’s reprint), 
“ Aulus Gellius writes, that Mithridates spake the languages of two and 
twenty Provinces, which were subject to him, so that he never spake with 
any subject by an Interpreter.’ 

itpenayebe sadded) that im -Ouintilian, Insts Orat..’. xi; 2,50), the 
number of languages is again twenty-two. 

In chap. 76 of the ‘Incerti auctoris liber de viris illustribus urbis 
Romae,’ at one time attributed to Sextus Aurelius Victor, where twenty-four 
and fifty have both MS. support, some editors have made the text conform 
to the traditional twenty-two, while some others have altered quinquagesimo 
into quinque el viginir. 


Bk Wi, ixxi., p. 497, The Spanish epitaph on King Henry VIII, of 
England is given in a slightly different form on p. 279 of Franciscus 
Sweertius’s ‘ Hpitaphia Jocoseria,’ ed. Cologne, 1645. 


Bk. II., Ixxv., p. 504, I hate such blateroons : 
Odi illos ceu claustra Evebi— 
It is pretty clear, at first sight, that we have here a rendering of Homer. 
See Iliad 1X, 312 sq., 
“Ex Opes yap pot KELVOS ops "Aiiao rvAyouy, 
Os xX’ eTepov prev KevOn evi hpeciv, GAAo O€ Eizry. 
But who is the translator ? EKobanus Hessus has 
Odi etenim, ceu claustra Erebi, quicunique loquuntur 
Ore aliud, tacitoque aliud sub pectore claudunt. 
“Homeri Ilias,’ p. 220, ed. Basel, 1540. 
These Latin lines are quoted, with z//os for efenim, and volvunt for claudunt by 
Tobias Magirus, col. 2097, under the title ‘ Simulatio et Dissimulatio,’ in his 
*Polymnemon seu Florilegium Locorum Communium,’ 2nd ed., 1661. 


nese, py 020, When I consider his case, Timay say, that as 
the Philosopher made a question whether the Mariner be to be 
rank’d among the number of the living or dead (being but four inches 
distant from drowning, only the thickness of a plank), so tis a doubt 
whether the Merchani Adventurer be to be numbred ’twixt the 
rich or the poor, his estate being in the mercy of that devouring 
element the Sea. 
See 368B in the ‘ Axiochus,’ at one time supposed to be Plato’s, "AAAG 
tov mAwTiKoV KatadeEwpeba, Teparovpevov did ToTa@VOE KLVOVWY, Kai 
pte, ws aredijvato Bias, ev Tots TeOvyKOTW oOvTa pate ev Tois Provory ; 
and the anecdote about Anacharsis told by Diogenes Laertius, I. viii. 5. 103, 
Ma@ov rerrapas daxtvAovs efvat TO TAaXOS THS vEews, ToTOU’TOV ey TOV 
Gavatov tovs wA€ovtas QTE Y ELV, and compare Juvenal, xii., 58. 
Digitis a morte remotis 
Quattuor aut septem, si sit latissima tacda. 


38 HOWELL’S LETTERS 


Bk. III., viii., p. 525, There is afamous Tale of Thomas Aquinas, 

the Angelical Doctor, and of Bonadventure, the Seraphical Doctor 

. . Both these great Clerks being invited to dinner by the French 

King, of purpose to observe their Humours, and being brought to the 

Room where the Table was laid, the first fell a eating of Bread as 

hard as he could drive ; at last breaking out of a brown Study, he 
cried out, Conclusum est contra Manichaeos. 


Jacobs notes on these last words that this is told by Burton, ‘ Anatomy 
of Melancholy,’ I. ii. 3, §15, but that his authority is ‘““ Fulgosus, 1. 8, c. 7.” 


Fulgosus is an error of Burton’s. The name should be ulgosius. Battista 
Fulgosio or Fregoso, “ quem Raphaél Volaterranus Baptistinum Fregosum, 
alii Campofulgosum vocant ’’ (one yearns for some retrospective legislation to 
lay heavy penalties on those Italians who have a sack-full of names), became 
Doge of Genoa in 1478 (Tiraboschi, ‘ Storia della Letteratura Italiana,’ ed. 
1780, vol. vi. p. 787). Being driven into exile he consoled himself by com- 
posing in Italian a work in imitation of Valerius Maximus’s ‘ Factorum et 
Dictorum Memorabilium Libri Novem.’ ‘This was translated into Watin. 
Fulgosius, fol. 283, ed. Paris, 1578, ‘ De Aquinate Thoma,’ tells the story of 
Thomas’s absence of mind ; he says nothing of Bonaventura’s presence at the 
same dinner. 


Book III., ix., p. 530, In the middle Age of Learning, Plutarch 
speaks of it [the Moon’s being inhabited]. 


On this Jacobs writes ‘“‘ This is putting Plutarch much too late: can 
H. have confounded him with Petrarch ?’’ An instance of a confusion be- 
tween these two naines is found in the “ Anatomy of Melancholy,’ II., iii. 2, 
‘““Seldome, saith Plutarch, Honesty and Beauty dwel together.’’ Burton’s 
“Raro sub eodem lare honestas & forma habitant.’’ But 
this is taken from Petrarch,’ De Remediis utriusque Fortunae,’ II. Dialogue i., 
““ Raro admodum forma insignis honestasque uno sub lare habitant.’’ Petrarch 
may have been thinking of Juvenal, x. 297. Very shortly afterwards Burton 
has a quotation, without indicating author or book, from the same dialogue 
of Petrarch (See Notes and Queries, 11S. i. 286). 


marginal note is 


Here, howcver, there is no need to assume such a confusion, The 
question whether the moon is inhabited is discussed in Plutarch, ‘ Moralia,’ 
937d (‘ De Facie in Orbe Lunae). 


Bk ay x42, p: odo, i hope there will be no cause to apply to 
them the old Verse I learn’d at School, 


Asperius mhil est humili, cum surgit in altum. 


From Claudian, ‘In Hutropium,’ i. 181. 


| 


HOWELLS LETIERS 39 


Bk. III., xii., p. 536, I am afraid we have seen our best Days ; 
we knew not when we were well: so that the [talian Saying may 
be well apply’d to poor England, I was well, I would be better, I 
took Physic and died. 


Compare Dryden, ‘ Dedication of the Aeneis,’ Works, ed. Scott and Saints- 
bury, xiv. 149, 

“ This comes of altering fundamental laws and constitutions—like him, 
who, being in good health, lodged himself in a physician’s house, and was 
over-persuaded by his landlord to take physic (of which he died), for the 
benefit of his doctor. ‘Stavo ben: (was written on his monument) ma per 
star meglio, sto qui.’ ”’ 

Addison quotes the same Italian words in No. 25 of The Spectator as 
‘an Italian Epitaph written on the Monument of a Valetudinarian.’’ Prof. 
Gregory Smith suggests that Addison was indebted for this to Dryden. See 
some Replies by the present writer in Notes and Queries, Eleventh Series, 
vol. x., 154, 193, 296, in answer to a question in vol. vi. 469, where “I was 
well, I would be better ; I am here ”’ was said to be described on p. 10 of Lord 
Hugh Cecil’s ‘Conservatism’ as “‘ the often-quoted epitaph of an Italian tomb.” 


Book III., xxiii., p. 549, St. Augustin speaks of Women who 
could turn Men to Horses, and make them carry their burdens. 

The story is told in “ De Civitate Dei,’ Bk. xviii., chap. 18, ‘“ Nam et nos 
cum essemus in Italia, audiebamus talia de quadaim regione illarum partium, 
ubi stabularias mulieres imbutas his malis artibus, in-caseo dare solere dicebant, 


_ quibus vellent seu possent viatoribus, unde in iumenta ilico verterentur, et 


necessaria quaeque portarent, postque perfuncta opera iterum ad se redirent : 
nec tamen in eis mentem fieri bestialem, sed rationalem humanamque servari, 
sicut Apuleius in libris quos Asini aurei titulo inscripsit, sibi ipsi accidisse, ut 
accepto veneno, humano animo permanente asinus fieret, aut indicavit aut 
Oboe, © 


Book III., xxv., p. 553, Your expressions were like those 
Mucrones and Mellit: Globul1, which you so ingeniously apply mine 
unto. 

The latter of these terms is taken from the satirical description of schools 
of rhetoric at the beginning of the remains of Petronius, ‘“‘ Sed mellitos ver- 
borum globulos et omnia dicta factaque quasi papavere et sesamo sparsa.”’ 


““Mucro ”’ is used figuratively by the elder Seneca and Quintilian in connection 
with oratory. 


BE. IV., i., p. 555. 


It is recorded of Galen, one of Nature’s Cabinet-Clerks, that 
when he slept his Szesta (as the Spaniard calls it) or afternoon 
sleep, to avoid excess that way, he us’d to sit in such a posture, 


40 HOWELLS LETTERS 


that having a gold Ball in his hand, and a copper Vessel under- 
neath, as soon as his Senses were shut, and the Phantasy began to 
work, the Ball would fall down, the noise whereof would awake 
him, and draw the Spring-lock back again to set the outward 
Senses at liberty. 


The story is told of Aristotle by Diogenes Laertius v. 1, 10, 16, where the 
ball and vessel are both of copper (or bronze). Ammianus Marcellinus, xvi. 5, 
4, has a similar tale of Alexander the Great, the ball being described as 
silver and the vessel underneath of copper (or bronze). 


Bk. IV., vii., p. 566, 


Thy pilav ev Gadapo, tHv piav ev Oavato. 


The “‘ Pagan Poet, who stutter’d out this verse ’’ was Palladas. It is the 
second line of a distich ascribed to him in the ‘ Palatine Anthology,’ xi. 381. 


Bk. IV., vil., p. 567, Of this Cynical Sect, it seems, was he who 
would needs make Orcus to be the Anagram of Uxor, by contracting 
c s into an x, Uxor © Orcus—idem. 


See Owen’s ‘ Epigrammata,’ Bk. VI. (ed. Renouard), lii., 
Anagrvamma uxoris. 
Insaturabile par sunt* orcus et uxor, ait rex, 
Unius experiens, alteriusque sciens. 
Ouisquis in uxorem cecidit, descendit in orcum : 
Rite inversa sonant Ucsor et Orcus idem. 
Hon Ceo, wy 1a, 


Bk. IV., vii., p. 568, Xanthippe .. . I thought after so much 
thunder we should have rain. 


See Diogenes Waertius, Us 5.) 17-30: 


Bk. IV., viii., p. 572, But you will say, Hercules himseli stoop’d 
hitherto ; ‘tis true he did, as appears by this Distich : 
Lenam non potuit, potut superare Leaenam ; 
Quem Fera non potuit vincere, vicit Hera. 


This is from John Owen’s ‘ Epigrammata,’ II., Ixxiv., 3, 4, but the third 
potuit is an error. It should be valuit. | 


Bk. IV., viii., p. 572, The saying also of the old Comic Poet 
makes for you, when he said, Qui im amorem cecidit, pejus agit quam 
si saxo saliat ; ‘To be Tormented with Love, is worse than to dance 
upon hot stones. 


HOWELLS LETTERS 41 


wee Plautus, ‘ Trinummus,’ 265 (II. i- 47), 
Nam qui in amorem praecipitauit 
Peius perit quamsi saxo saliat. 


The misunderstanding, or license, in Howell’s rendering of saxo saliat is 
curious. 


Bk. IV., xii., p. 578, Regis ad exemplum. 
This hard-worked quotation is from Claudian’s ‘ Panegyricus de quarto 
consulatu Honorii Augusti,’ 299,300, 


Componitur orbis 
Regis ad exemplum. 


Bk. IV., xvii., p. 586, The second Error is, That France is 
held to be the freest Country upon Earth to all People ; for if a 
Slave comes once to breathe French Air, he is free 1pso facto, if we 
may believe Bodin ; it being a fundamental Law of France, Servi 
pevegrim, ut primum Galliae fines penetraverint, libert sunto ; Let 
Stranger-slaves, as soon as they shall penetrate the borders of 
France, be free. 


As Jacobs notes, this is a quotation from Jean Bodin’s ‘ De Republica,’ 
but he gives no further reference. See Bk. I., p, 64, a little less than } through 
the book, in the Frankfurt edition of 1641, 


““In Gallia vero, etsi exstant veteris servitutis simulacra, servos taimen 
nec facere, nec ab aliis emere fas est, siquidem servi peregrini, ut primum 
Galliae fines penetraverint, eodem momento liberi fiunt : id quod vetere Sena- 
tusconsulto Parisiorum decretum est, adversus legatum quendam Hispanum, 
qui servum in Galliam deduxerat’”’ (a parallel to Lord Mansfield’s famous 
judgment). 


Bk. IV., xlv., p. 637, But tho’ your Toes be slugs, yet your 
Temples are nimble enough, as I find by your last of the 12th cur- 
rent ; which makes me think on a speech of Severus the Emperor, 
who having lain sick a long time of the Gout at York, and one of his 
Nobles telling him that he wonder’d much how he could rule so 
vast an Empire, being so lame-and unwieldy, the Emperor answer‘d, 
that He rul’d the Empire with his Brain not with lus Feet. 


See chap. 18 of the Life of Severus ascribed to Aelius Spartianus in the 
“ Seriptores Historiae Augustae’ (‘ Augustan History ’), where the Emperor 
touching his head with his hand remarks ‘“‘ Tandem sentitis caput imperare, 
non pedes.’”’ A similar speech is reported by Aurelius Victor, ‘ De Caesaribus. 
xx, 26. Howeil is wrong as to the circumstances under which the words were 
_ uttered. 


42 | HOWELL’S LETTERS 


Supplement, xvi., p. 667, that I may conclude with the old 
Roman Proverb, I am Yours, Usque ad Aras. 


See Erasmus, “Adagia,’ p. 44, col. 1, in J. J. Grynaeus’s ‘ Adagia,’ 1629, 
Heading ‘ Usque ad aras amicus,’ under the Title “ Amicitia.’ Pericles’s 
saying, in the form Ac pe ovprpdttrey tots pido, aAAa pexpe Popov 
is here quoted from Gellius, I. iii. 20, and Meype tov Bwpor pidos eiui from 
Plutarch (‘ Moralia’ 53lc, “De Vitioso Pudore ’). 


Having been unable to visit any library while correcting the 
proofs of this Paper, I am indebted to my friend Mr. D. T. Baird 
Wood of the British Museum for his care in checking several 
particulars. 


(To be continued.) 


EDWARD BENSLY. 


BeBLE LITERATURE 
IN WELSH. 


The Fables here transcribed are found on ff. 509—521 of 
Llanstephan MS. 4=Shirburn C21, in the National Library of 
Wales. This MS. is written on vellum, and is imperfect. The 
pagination seems to be in the hand of Edward Lhuyd, for a note 
by him is found on p. 523, and his mark appears elsewhere in the 


margins. The numbering, in any case, is later than the original. 


‘writing; it runs from 505 to 557, and is consecutive, without 
taking notice of missing folios. In the portion herein dealt with 
two pages are missing, between those numbered 513° and 514. In 
my transcript I have indicated the lacuna, preserving the number- 
ing as written, and giving the correct equivalent to the end of the 
excerpt. The MS. has been dated circa 1400 (Catalogue of MSS. 
im the Welsh Language, Vol. II., pt.1l., p. 424). Some of the 
material, as shown later in this note, may be at least a century 
earlier. There are also indications that the scribe is modifying an 


fedmicimoOrenooraphy (ci. -agkot, — yegoruchelder,  ~ llongwr,”’ 


ee 


" anteruynedic,”’’ “ anheilong,’’ &c:) 

A transcript of the Fables is found in Cwrt Mawr MS. 455. 
This is a quarto of 88 pp., written about 1700. The part missing 
in LIS.4 is also missing here, as well as pp. 21—22 of the trans- 
script itself. 

CanchitimviS: S, i245 eb seq., and Aberdare MS. 1, p. 52 et 
seq., contain copies probably made from CM.455. 

The Fables, inaccurately copied and whimsically edited, are 
Panbedeine ) VY \Greal;’’ 1806-7, Nos) Vi, VIl;, and VIII... pre- 
ceded by a note stating that they were copied from a collection 
written about 1500. The incomplete Fables of LIS.4 are not 
included, and there is, no indication that a portion of the text is 
missing, but there can be little doubt that the original is LIS.4 

There is also one Fable, apparently from this source, in the 
collection printed in the Iolo MSS., and there entitled “‘ Dammeg 
v Lygoden (sic) a’r Gath”’ (‘The Fable of the Mouse and the 
Cat ’’). The other Fables in the Iolo MSS. are different, and have 
been expanded in a rhetorical style, probably by Iolo Morganwg 
himself, and attributed to ‘‘ Cattwg Ddoeth ap Gwynlliw ap 
Glywis ap Tegid ap Cadell Deyrnllwg.’’ 

45 D 


46 FABLE LITERATURE IN WELSH 


In the Catalogue of MSS. in the Welsh Language, loc. cit., 
the Fables are inaccurately described as ‘‘ A‘sop’s Fables.’’ 
These versions are undoubtedly derived from Odo of Cheriton, 
first half of the 13th century, the Prologue to whose Fables begins : 
‘‘ Aperiam in parabolis os meum, loquar propositiones ab initio. 
Legitur in libro Ruth: Proicite de manipulis uestris ex industria 
et remanere permittite, ut colligat Ruth absque uerecundia . . .’’ 
(Text printed in Vol. IV. of Léopold Hervieux’s ‘‘ Les Fabulistes 
latins depuis le siécle d’ Auguste jusqu’a la fin du moyen 4ge,’’ 
Paris, 1896). 

It will be seen that the Welsh collection begins with the first 
sentence in Odo’s Prologue. All the Fables are to be found in the 
collections attributed to Odo. ‘The translation is generally free, 
with occasional amplifications mostly of a rhetorical character. 
The terms ‘‘ ymdyualu a g6aranda6 cler6ryaeth,’’ in the fifth 
Fable, refer perhaps to Welsh peculiarities. It is possible that the 
translator used a version not recorded by Hervieux. In the Fable 
of the Wolf made Monk, an English sentence is quoted. It differs 
from the versions given by Hervieux from various sources, here 
quoted in the footnotes. In another Fable—that of the Bird of 
St. Martin—the word boly, in the expression “‘ yd oed yn rodya6 
ar hyt boly derwen,’’ may have been suggested by bole (as in the 
bole of an oak), a word common, I believe, in middle English. 
The words bornet, frogy, g6edyr, partrissot, plastyr, yspurge, and 
ystoppya6, also show the influence at least of English vocabulary. 

There is some evidence that the first Fable, at least, was 
known to Gruffudd ab yr Ynad Coch, court bard to Prince Llywelyn 
ap (Gruffudd: Ihe Prince was: killed in 1282 In ay poem 
on) the vanity “of humane life. (Red) Boola- ct sbleweest 
col, 1160% ‘Poetry of the Gogynteirdd, p. (157, <col 2). Gruul 
Says :— 

‘‘Ni byd brychwyn dyn dyd y cladher, 
Nis canlyn oe da oe diuer ymdro 
Eithyr y amdo amdla6t biner.”’ 
Compare this with the Fable: ‘‘ Nys kanlyn dim oe olut byda6l ef, 
dyeithyr tla6t amdo yr daear.”’ 


I am indebted to Principal J. H. Davies for assistance in .« 


tracing copies of the Welsh Fables, to Professor Bensly for the 
discovery of their origin, and to Mr. Ballinger for facilities to 
consult the Latin versions under circumstances of some difficulty. 


(LY. FRAN .AgRs PLO its i NAG) 
[fo. 509>.] Aperiam in parabolis os meum loquar propoc- 
itiones. Yvran gynt ae g6eles hi ehun yn | hagyr ac yn drwg 
y thréssyat adyuot aoruc | yach6yn 6rth yr eryr am hynny. Ar 


oD 


VeVellss, IBM JUE INORG, JUN) AVIS el Aq 


eryr | aerchis idi vynet yechoynna pluf | ygan amryuaelyon adar. 
Ahynny [aoruc?] hitheu. Kymryt oesgyll ypaun, ac | oadaned 
ygolomen. Ac ygan yr adar | ereill mal ydamuna6od. A phan 
yttoed yn arderchabc obop kyfry6 bluf, de|chreu kellweira6é a 
greu a llefein ar yr adar oll. Sef aoruc yr adar { yna dyuot y g6yna6 
6rth yr eryr | rac yvran. Ar eryr yna ady6a6t|dyget pob edyn 
y bluf ygenthi.- Ac | velly hi a vuydheir’. A hynny aorulgant. 
A gada6 awnaethant y vran|yn hagyr anffurveid megys yd |oed 
gynt. Velly am druan anghena|6c dyn* avo balch oe adurn ae 
wisgoed | ae drossyat. Kymeret ydauat ygo6lanjar daear y llin 
ar ychen ar eniueileit | ercill eu cr6yn§. Ac velly ef a ric yn{dyn 
truan yn anurdedic gewilydy|us. Ac yna yr holl allu ar kyuoeth| 
byda6l pandel teruyn yhoedyl ac | [fo. 510] angheu or diwed. 
nys kanlyn dim oe olut | byda6l ef dyeithyr. tla6t amdo yr daear. | 
Ch6edyl y6 honn ac esampyl yn erbyn|y kyuoethogyon gallyus 
Bbydaol® Ac yn | yn enwedic yrei yssyd yn ymdiret y|my6n 
Iuossa6cr6yd eu goludoed heb|du6 ganthunt dieithyr hynny. | 
Megys y dywedir ynylladin. Quilin multitudine diuitiarum 
suarum gloriantur. | Ac yna pan attynno duw_ hollgyuoetha6c 
yv golut ywrthynt, yd vuydheir 6ynteu o g6byl, &c.5 


1 De Cornice. Contra illos qui iactant se habere quod non habent.— 
Odonis de Ceritona Fabulae. 

2C.M. 455° 

3 Et sic humiliabitur.—Odonis de Ceritona Fabulae. 

4 Sic miser homo.—Odo. 

5 Set accipiat Ouis lanam suam, Terra linum, Boues et Capri corium 
suum, Cirogilli et Agni suas pelles, et remanebit miser homo, &c.— 
Odo. 

6 Item hoc exemplum ualet contra diuites qui pro multitudine diuitiarum 
gloriantur, sed Dominus quandoque omnia aufert, et «sic 
humiliantur.—Odo. 


Ce NN ADID AG Ra ESR YRs hy 


E wad gynt aoed yny daear yn | cladu. Ac yna dyuot 
awnaeth | choant idi goelet mynyded ac elltyd | a choedyd a 
elynnoed ac auonyd?. A dry|chafel vch ydaear aoruc. Ac 
adol6|jyn yr eryr ydrychafel yn yr awyr | y gaffel g6eledigaeth 
aay byt. ~A: | hynny aoruc yr eryr. Acphan yttoad | yng 
goruchelder yr awyr ydywa6t yr | eryr wrthi. Awely di yr 
a6rhonn yr | hynn nys gé6eleist eiryoet. Mynyded | coedyd 
glynnoed ac auonoed. Gb6ellaf heb hi eissyoes g6ell oed gennyfi | 
vy mot ymllochwes yny daear | [fo. 510] ac ymkeneuin. Ac 
yna yr eryr ae gollyng|a6d hi yr daear. Ac or k6ymp h6nn6 yd | 
aeth yndrylleu.? Velly lle bo tla6t kenuigen|nus ny byd bodla6n 
ar dim or hynn alroes du6 ida6. dyeithyr ch6ennychu awna 
esgynnu ar esgyll gwynt* ac adol6yn nerth yr eryr. Sef y6 
h6nn6 ykythreul | ar ydrychafel ar gyuoeth a golut. Aphan | 
vedylyo ef yystat yny goruchelder h6nn6lyn beriglus.  gé6ell 


y 
~ 


48 FABLE IATERATURE IN WEISE 


vydei gantha6 y vot yny tlodi dibetrus mal ydoed gynt rac | yn 
a6r angheu yr kythreul yollong y | goympa6 ympéll uffern§ 
ylle nyt oes | ymwaret dyeithyr anteruynedic |[poen] yr h6n | 
yn differo ni du6 racda6. Amen. 


1 De Tortuca\ et Aquila. Contra curiosos.—Odo. 

2 Desiderauit enim uidere campos, colles, et montes et nemora.—Oda 
3 Dimisit eam cadere, et tota confracta est.—Odo. 

4 Desiderat ascendere et super pennas ventorum uolare .—Odo. 

5 In puteum gehenne, ubi totus confringitur.—Odo. 


& 


[1il.. EDN ~SANT: -MARTIN.* 


Ryw edyn aelwir Edyn Seint Martin | a bychan y arued? 
dry6 yr thonn aelwir Ieuen dar. Achoesseu_ hiryon4 ys|syd 
ida6. A threigylg6eith amgylch g6yl | Martin yd oed yn rodya6 
ar hyt boly | derwen ar heul yn eglur.. disg6yl aoruc ar | 
y goesseu gan dywedut Owi or kedernit | ei k6ympei yr awyr 
ygyt yr lla6r yr | a6rhonn mi ae kynhalon achlan y vyny | ar 
vyndoygoes. A phan yttoed ef velly yn | ymhoth gan gyffroedi- 
gaeth y g6yny ef [fo. 511] | agoympa6d un or deil crinyon o 
vlaen | yprenn tu ar daear. Aphan gigleu ef | ytord h6nn6 o 
dirua6r ofyn ac ergryn | roi Ilef uchel aoruc gan dywedut. Owi | 
a du6 tec aseint Martin kanhorth6y|6ch a6ch edyn gwiryon. 
Velly yn wir | dilys y mae llawer or bobyl yra6rhonn | yn amser$ 
ycredant ac yn amser proluedigaeth y kilyant. Megys y dywedir | 
Qui ad tempus credunt et in tempore | temptationis recedunt®. 
Megys y gonaeth pedyr gynt pan dywa6t am | jessu. Yr carchar 
nac yr angheu nas gajda6ei ac nas ymwadei ac ef. Ac eissoes | 
pan weles ef poeni Crist ae gystudya6 | ef ae g6ada6d yny 6yd. 
Ac megys y | dyweit y Salym’ Filii effreym intendentes | et 
mittentes arcum suum conuersi sunt | in die belli. Hynny heuyt 
aellir y | gyffelybu ylawer or marchogyon ar | g6yr kyuoeth- 
ogyon pan vont Orth y | tan yn kyuedach y g6in kadarn ar k6jryf 
6ynt adywedant na bydei vn ojhonunt Orth bedwar or ffreingk 
yn ymjlad’. Eissoes ybore pan delont yr maes | agé6elet eu 
galon yn arua6c ar g6ewyr | yn Ilymyon yn eu herbyn yna 
y dywedant | [511>] 6y megys yr edyn uchot du6 a seint Martin 
ut supra. 
1 De goadon ave Sancti Martini, Contra audaces uerbo et non epere. 
—— oO. 

2 a bychan yw ar wedd Dryw—C.M. 455, Y Greal. _ 

3 lleuer dar CM. 455. The reading in Y Greal is also l/ewer dar, 
and the title ‘‘Y Lleuer Dar’ has been given the Fable. 
The reading in LIS. is clearly Meuen. The Latin does not con- 
tain this epithet—‘‘ quedam auis dicitur Sancti Martini in 
‘Hispania, parvula, admodum reguli. WHec graciles habet tibias 
ad modum iuncti et longas.” 

4 a choeseu byrrion, C.M. 455 and Y Greal. 


5 yn amser llwyddiant, C.M. 455 and Y Greal. 
Ghicuke vawt 13, 


FABLE LITERATURE IN WELSH 4Q 


7 Filii Ephrem, intendentes et mittentes arcum conuersi sunt in die 
belli—Ps. Ixxvii, Vulg. Paris, Ed. Garnier. 

8 Quando caput [est] bene fricatum vino vel ceruisia, dicunt se posse 
stare contra tres francigenas et debellare fortissimos.—Odo. 


DOVE SZ BILD IB) WON) JEUNE Islu] 


E bleid? gynt avynnei | ywneuthur yn vanach. ac o ganlyn 
ac adoloyn. hynny agafas. Ac | eilla6 corun a wnaethp6yt 
ida6 agoneuthur abit. ae ossot ydysgu ybader. | Sef ycanei 
ynteu vyth oen neu wedyr | oen neu wedyr? Odyna yd erchit 
ida6 ; edrych ar del6 ygroc. Sef yd edrychei | ynteu ar y deueit. 
Velly ymyneich yr | a6r honn pan dylyynt 6y wneuthur | eu 
creuyd yn d6y6a6l deil6ng 6ynteu | aedrychant ar ydeueit. Sef 
ynt yrei | hynny y g6raged tec ar g6in melys | ar ffr6ytheu per. 
ac ar yry6 betheu | mass6 hynny gan ebryuygu eu reol | ae 
creuyd yn ll6yr. Megys ydywedir | yn Saesnec fey fo pan 
wold hor wwlff | hode to prest euer bath hes wiles. at be wlode.* 

1 De Lupo qui voluit esse Monachus Contra malam, consuetudinem.— 

Odo. 

2 Ysemgrinus.—Odbo. 

3 et semper respondit Agnus vel Arzes.—Odo. 

4 Vnde solet dici: Zhai thu W[ollf hore hodi te preste tho thu hym 

sette Salmes to leere, evere beth his geres to the groue-ward.—Odo, 
Les Fabulistes latins, IV.—‘‘ Voici comment ce proverbe est 
formulée dans le ms. Harl. 219: /f al that the Wolf vn to a preest 
worthe and be set un to book psalmes to leeve, yit his, eye evere to 
the wodeward. On voit que c’est surtout par l’orthographe moins 
ancienne des mots que cette formule differe de celle du ms, du 
Corpus Christi. Le ms. d’Arras en présente une autre tres incor- 
recte due a un copiste, qui, sans savoir l’anglais, avait eu sous les 
yeux un modéle difficile a déchiffrer. Dans ce manuscr‘t on lit: 
Lat ye deulf hore hodi bo preste, secce to boke an psalmes to leren, 


evez lokys hus geres to ye wodewar.”’—Les Fabulistes latins. 
IV. 195—6. 


RVE Te 4CEVWalies VACRe DOME Ni 

FE choil gynt aeheda6d ymy6n | perllan ynyr honn yd oed 
am|ryuaelon lysseuoed affrwytheu bon|hedic aros cochyon arei 
e6ynny/on aliliew affenygyl. Ac odyna ef a | disgynna6d my6n 
tomen ynylle yd | oed Ilawer oebodyn meirch abiss6eil [fo. 512] 
gOarthec? Ac yno ykafas ef ygymar. | Agouyn aoruc hi y6 
g6r pa le y buassei. | Ynteu aatteba6d mi adygylchyneis y | dayar 
iopeearodyels —Jawer — oleoed tee ~ arjdercha6c ~~ ymplith 
amryuaelon lysseuloed saf6yrber affr6ytheu melys. dyei|thyr na 
weleis 1 ermoet le mor digrif-| mor esm6yth a h6nn. Am 
ydomen. | Velly llawer or myneich ar ysgolheigy|on ar Ileygyon 
pan darlleont neu pan | glywont darllein buchedeu seint neu | 
ffr6ythla6n ystoryaeu ereill clotuorus | ych6aneckau synh6yr ac 
ymborth | yreneit tr6ydunt. diffr6yth vyd gan|thunt 6y hynny 
oll. ony bei gael ar dauarneu ymdidan aphuteinieit ac | 


50 FABLE LITERATURE IN WELSH 


ymdyualu ago6aranda6 cler6ryaeth | orwac ac ouergerd yleihau 
synhoyr | ac yachwaneckau pecha6t ag6aha6d | dia6l yn 
ganhorth6y yn Ile angel gojleuni. yr h6nn yssyd oll yn domen 
vu|dyr ac yn vystrych drewedic.$ 

1 De Sc[aJrabone. Contra eos qui plus terrena sapiunt quam spiritualia 
et cetera.—Odo. 

2 Stercora equorum et boum. 

3 Sic plerique clerici, monachi, layci audiunt uitas sanctorum, transeunt 
per lilia conuallium, per rosas martyrum, per uiolas confessorum ; 
sed nunquam uidetur eis ita placidum, ita amenum, sicut meretrix, 
sicut taberna, sicut exercicium causarum quod totwm est ster- 
quilinium fetidum et congregacio peccatorum.—Odo. 


SV WOR WRG AR ec ERAN ee 

Er eryr gynt agleuycha6d o | dolur y lygeit ac a alwa6d at|ta6 
yvran yrhon aelwir ffissigwr | yr adar. Agouyn aoruc yr vran 
beth [fo. 512>] agynghorei ida6 amy heint. Ar vran adywa6t. 
Mi awnaf blastyr ytt? yr honn ath | wna yn iach. Ar eryr ady- 
waot Or gwney | di hynny mi adalaf dy lauur ytt yn dilys. | 
Ar vran aaeth ac agymerth g6er ac ys|purge.? ac ae briwa6d 
ygyt ac.ae dodes | Orth lygeit yr eryr.. Ac o hynny y colles 
y | lygeit og6byl. Ac yna ydaeth yvran ac y | llada6d! gywyon yr 
eryr ac yhyssa6d 6ynt | Ac odyna hi adoeth ac a ffustya6d yr 
eryr | yn vynych ac ae dolurya6d Ac yna ydywla6t yr eryr. O 
emelldigedic vych di ath | vedeginyaeth. -Yn gyntaf ti am 
Nedeist i | a gwedy hynny llad vy meibyon adar. | Ac bellach 
yd 6yt ym dolurya6 inneu o | vynych dyrnodeu. Yna yd 
atteba6d y | vran. je heb hi tra elleist di welet ny beid|6ny 
ymyrru ar dy veibyon di. LEissoes | yr oedwn i yn ch6ennychu 
hynny ac yn | ydamuna6 yn vynych. Ac eissoes mi a | gefeis vy 
ewyllys am didigvoyd.. Prelat. Yr eryr,-uchot yo prelat-yr 
egl6ys acheit|6ad yr eneideu ae lygeit yn agoret yn | kadw 
y veibyon adar nyt amgen nor | gved4 aorchymynna6d du6 y chad6 
en tralgy6yda6l doeth yvran y6 ykythreul yn | [fo. 513] 
ch6ennychu yr adar o gaffel methyl | ar eneideu y bobyl eyffredin. 
Eissyoes | tra vo yprelat doeth kywreint ae lygeit | yn agoret 
yn cad6 y ffald ny beid y ky|threul wasgu nac ymyrreit arnadunt. 
Beth awna y kythreul yna medylya6 | medeginyaeth nyt amgen 
g6neuthur | plastyr awna ogynnulleitua ac amlyder | ac amlyder 
goludoed byda6l§ ae dodi yn | llygeit yprelat y ystoppya6 
yolygon | ar ysprydolyon betheu agé6eithredoed | nefolyon a 
phregetheu ‘doethyon yn vedleginyaeth yr eneideu. Gan rodi 
ida6 | renti ma6r achyrteu aphlassoed arder|cha6c. A meirch 
ma6r ac ychen a deueit. | Ac amryuaelyon aniueileit amla6 | 
hynny. Ac velly ydallu oysbryda6l | ol6c a diua yadar ac eu 
lyngku. A | g6edy hynny ydolurya6 ynteu ae vlinjhau yn cad6 
ac yn ymwrd ar golut | heb orffowys. Ac ordiwed y poeni yn | 
dragywyd or poen anteruynedic onyt | du6 ae g6eryt. 


FABLE LITERATURE IN WELSH aI 


1 De Aquila et Corvo medico. Contra prelatos ignorantes.—Odo. 

2 Afferam optimam herbam que oculos sanabit.—Odo. 

3 Accepit cepe et spurgiam.—Odo, 

4 Aquila est prelatus qui habet ocitlos apertos, ut pullos suos, gregem 
sibi commissum, custodiat.—Odo. 

5 Diabolus autem facit emplastrum de congerie rerum temporalium.— 
Odo. 


[VIl. YR HWCH 4’R GWADDOD.*) 


Y lle6? gynt a | wnaeth géled ac a wahoda6d | yr aniueileit 
oll yr bled honno. Ac yno | ykawssant amryuaelon u6ydeu a 
[fo. 513] | diodyd yn ardercHa6c. A phan daruu y wled | pa6b 
aaethant tu ae kartrefoed. A | phan yttoed ybleid yn mynet 
fr6y | dinas tu ae gartref ef awelei | yr h6ch yn yssu soec 
ag6ada6t ar yr heol. Agoljuyn aoruc hi yr bleid opa le yr oed 
yn | dyuot. Ac atteb aoruc ynteu yvot yn | dyuot ova6rhydic 
wled ylle6. A pha|ham heb ef na buost ti yno. Beth heb | [hi] 
agefit yno. Aoed yno wada6t. Tao | heb ef emelltigedic vych 
ae my6n g6led g6ér kyfurd a h6nn6 yperthy|nei bot boyt mor 
anheilong a | h6nn6. Velly tlawer or bobyl yr dy|uot doethineb 
a synhoyreu ma6r ny | rodant dim yr hynny ony chaffant | wada6t. 
Sef y6 hynny godineb segyr|llytroyd choant cna6da6l megys 
y | dyweit Ose tertio respiciunt ad deos | alienos et diligunt 
vinacia vuarwm3. | Sef yw hynny drewedicr6yd a phecha6t. 
1 De Leone qui invitavit bestias. Contra carnaliter sapientes.—Odo. 
2 Quidam Miles dixit cuidam Literato: Quale gauldium erit in 
Paradyso? ... . Respondit clericus: Leo cum aliis bestiis semel 


celebrauit magnum conuiuium.—Odo. 
BeEleseapeati. 1. 


WAI CADNO ACR LLONGWR.1] 


E cadno gynt avynnei ydj6yn dros ymor ac adoeth att | 
yllongwr ac aadolygaéd ida6 yr | tal ylauur yd6yn drosod ar 
llongwr | 

| Conclusion missing. | 


#1 De Vulpe. Et applicatur male remuneranti.—Vulpes semel uoluit 
aquam transire per nauem; promisit Nauclero mercedem. 
Nauclerus Vulpem in naui ultra flumen portauit; mercedem 
postulavit. Ait Vulpes: Bene dabo. Et minxit in cauda sua, st 
aspersit in oculos Nautcleri, qui ait: Pessimam mercedem mihi 
tribuis. Inde dicitur: Qui malo seruit seruicium suum perdit. 
Puppe canis latus pro munere reddet [h]yatus.—Odo. 


TD NG CE AUDING@) VAIN Cre inka 
{Beginning missing. | 
[fo. 514=515] y dywa6t Reinyard. Na vit arnat vn | pryder 
mi adangossaf ytt yn da diga6n pa | vod ydihengych racdunt. 
Ac ar vrys na|chaf yr hely6r ae g6n yn agos udunt yn eu hymlit 
yn daer. Ac yna ydywa6ét Reinyard [ =Tibergus] 6rth Tibergus 


52 FABLE LITERATURE IN WELSH 


f—Reinyard| Yn wir ny chanlynafi dydi yn hoy mi aarueraf 
om keluydyt | vy hun. Ac ar vrys neidya6é ybrifdar | vchel 
adringya6é hyt yblaen. Ac yna | edrych tremynt. Ac ynylle 
nachaf | yk6n heb synnyeit ar ycath dyeithyr | ymlit Reinyard 
ac heb ohir ynydaly. | Rei ohonunt gervyd y benn. ereill yny | 
vyn6gyl. ereill yny gefyn. Ac velly | ydryllya6é yryngthunt. 
Ac yna tibergus | ymblaen y prenn yndiogel ac yn diofyn | 
adywa6t oe la6n llef. Reinyard reinyard | agor dy got yn dilys 
dy hoil geluy dodeu | ny thalant ytt vn wy. Ycath aar6ydoc | 
caa yrei mul g6iryon didréc ny evedant |! namyn vn geluydyt. 
Sef y6 honno cre|du yr gvirdu6 ac arveru buched didr6c | yny byt 
h6onn hyt arderuyn eu buched | ac angheu. Ac yna ynefoed 
ygael buched | dragywyd sine fine. Reinyard gatno yn\teu 
aar6ydocca ykyfreithwyr enwir ar | [fo. 514>=515P] atvockeit 
ffeils. ar medygon kelwyda6c | toyllodrus. Ar bra6toyr anghywir 
yrei | auedrant vn ar bymthec? ogeluydodeu | enwir Aheuyt 
loneit cot ohonunt. | Eissyoes pan del yr helywr ae g6n. Sef 
y6 | honn6 angheu ach6n ufferna6l y eu hymllit ac yeu daly ac 
yeu sodi yn uffern heb | allel ohonunt wrth6ynebu udunt yna | 
ybyd yg6iryon kywir ffydla6n yggolruchelder nefoed yny 
dily sroyd ygyt | ar engylyon yn edrych ar ykythreuleit | yn eu 
mystr6ng 6yntieu | Ac yna ydywleit ef. Reinyard Reinyard 
agor dy got | dy holl ystry6 ath geluydodeu yn wir yr | a6rhonn 


i 


ny allant dy rydhau rac de/int ac ew ined a chicweineu 3 ‘kythreuleit. 


1 De fraudibus vulpis et catti. Contra aduocatos.—Vulpes siue 
Reinardus obuiauit Tebergo, id est Cato, et dixit Reinardus: Quot 
frauces uel artificia ncuisti? Et ait Catus: Certe nescio nisi 
unum. Et ait Reinardus: Quod est 1llud? Respondit: Quando 
canes Me insequuntur, scio repere super arbores et euadere. Et 
quesiuit Catus: Et tu, quot scis? Et respondit Reinardus: Scio 
XVII., et ab hoc [adhuc] habeo saccum plenum. Veni mecum, et 
docebo te artificia mea. quod canes te non capient. Annuit Catus; 
ambo simul iuerunt. Venatores et canes insequebantur eos, et ait 
Catus : Audio canes, iam timeo. Et ait Reinardus, &c. —Odo. 

2 certe cmnes fraudes tue non, ualent tibi (ouum). —Odo. 

3 gui habent XVII. fraudes.—Odo. 


[X. ¥ .FRAN AVR GOLOMEN?| 

E vran gynt aduc un oadar y | glomen ydreis yarnei hyt 
y | nyth. Ae hymlit aoruc yglomen idi hyt | yno ac adol6yn 
idi etryt y hederyn dralchefyn. Ac yna ydywa6t yvran A | vedry 
diganu. Medraf heb y glomen | dyeithyr nat da iawn ymod. Can 
diltheu heb yvran. Achanu aoruc yglomen | mal y g6ydyat. 
Odyna ydywa6t y | vran. Can yn well neu yn wir ny chey | 
[ fo. f= 516] dim oth ederyn. Ac y dywa6t y glomen | Ny 
allafi ac ny medraf ganu yn well. Am | hynny heb yvran ny 
cheffy ditheu dim | oth ederyn. Ac ar vrys yvran ae chymar | 
alewssant gy6 yglomen. Velly ykyuoe|thogyon camweda6c ar 


FABLE LITERATURE IN WELSH 53 


s6ydogyon dréc | adreissant yrei mul g6iryon gan d6lyn eu 
hychen ae g6iryon? ac eu da byda6l | amlaO hynny arodei du6 
udunt yymjborth arnunt gan honni geu acham6ed | arnadunt. 
A phan del yg6iryon h6nn6 | yadoloyn yeida6 ehun gan gynnic 
trujgeint neu pedwar ugeint? ida6. ydyweit; | ynteu Ha vra6t 
pony wdost di ganu | yn well. Yna yidyweit yr anghena6c ky| 
wir Na wnn yn wir ac nys gallaf ka|nys tla6t areidus 6yf. aroi 
m6y yr | 6yf du6é a6yr nac aallaf.4 Yna ynteu | ydywawt 
y kyuoetha6c camwedus neur | s6yda6c dr6éc. Dos ditheu adref 
kanys | yn wir ny cheffy dim or hynn yssyd gen|nyfi oth eida6. 
Ac velly d6yn y da rac|da6 ae dunistyr ynteu. 

1 De Corvo et Pullo\:Columbe, Contra baiulos uel dominos,—Odo. 

2 capiunt bouem uel oues alicuius simplicis.—Odo, 

3 promittit v solidos, uel plus, uel minus, secundum suam facultatem. 


—Odo. 
4 et plus non possum dare.—Odo. 


Pee DEKAIDEA’R —BEAIDD:*| 


E deueit gynt adeuthant yg6y|na6 orth ylle6 rac ybleid 
a | dywedut yvot ydreis ac yledrat yn [fo. 515>—516>] Ilad ac 
yn dunistyr eu plant ae kedymldeithon. Ac yna dygynnull 
ygynghor atta6 | aoruc ylle6. Ac ym mysc yr aniueileit goluyn 
aoruc ylle6 yr moch paham y gedynt ybleid yn eu plith ac ynteu 
yn lleidyr | ac yn direisswr. Ac yna yd attebassant | y moch. 
Argl6yd vrenhin heb 6ynt anilueil hael k6rteis y6 ybleid. 
A hynny | adywedassant 6y oachos pan ladei y | bleid ydeueit 
ar wyn ef awahodei y | moch y v6yta eu rann oe ysgauael. Ac | 
vna ydywa6t ylle6. Nyt velly ydywleit ydeueit. G6aranda6er 
6ynteu belllach. Ac yna ydywa6t un or deueit, | Argl6yd vrenhin 
y bleid alada6d vy | mam i am tat aheuyt alada6d un om | plant. 
Ac ovreid ydiengheis inneu. Ac | velly ydywedassant y deueit 
oll. Ac | yna ydywa6t ylle6. a minneu ardd|laf varn bellach. 
Crocker y bleid am | yledrat ae gribdeil'ar moch ygyt ac | ynteu 
am eu kytundeb ac eu kynnal | tr6y ffalsed ac enwired. A hynny 
a | wnaethp6yt. Dealled y darllea6dyr.. 

1 Quod Oves sunt conquesti Leoni de Lupo. Contra diultes depre- 

‘datores et exactores.—Odo. 


2 Oues conquesti sunt Leoni de Lupo, eo quod furtive et aperte sccias 
suas deuorauit.—Odo. 


Peale" LLUYGODEN AUR BROGA:1) 


E llygoden gynt avynnei vynet {| dros ry6 auon. Aphan 
yttoed [fo. 516=517] hi ar lann yrauon hi awelai ry6 ffrogy | 
bychan yrung d6fyr aglan. A chyuarch | aoruc ida6 ac adol6yn 
ida6 ychanhorth|6ya6 dr6od os gallei. Ar ffrogy adywa6t | 
dyret ragot a r6ym di 6rth un om | traet 1. A mi anofyaf a thi 


dr6od. A | hynny aoruc. Aphan yttoedynt am | hanner yr auon 


aa FABLE LITERATURE IN WELSH 


eu harganuot aoruc y | barcut. adoyn h6yl ae hysglyfyeit ell | 
deu a mynet ac 6ynt gantha6. Velly | yn yr un ffunyt pan 
roder persondodeu a | medyant ma6r achad6edigaeth eneideu | 
y ynuyt diwybot anheil6ng.? y da6 y | kythreul y eu hysglyff elldeu. 
nyt amgen | ykeitwat ar pl6yf? onyt du6 ae gé6eryt, | ac ae 
hamdiffyn. 

1 De Mure, Rana et Milvo. Contra stultos rectores.—Odo. 


2 alicui stulto et insufficienti.—Odo. 
3 utrumque capellanum et paroch{iJam.—Odo. 


[Xe Na Gabi AOR Se AW Sai 

Ry6 wr aoed gynt | ac awelai ol gormes olygoden | yn 
boyta ac yn dinustyr y ga6s yny | gist. Sef aoruc ynteu kymryt 
g6rcath | ma6r aoed ida6 ae osot yny gist ar | ved6l cad6 y ka6s. 
Sef awnaeth ycath | llad yllygoden ab6yta ykaws yn Iléyr. | 
Yn un ffunyt ahynny y g6na yr esgyb | roi kad6edigaeth eneideu 
ac yspryda6l | vedyant yamryuaelyon offeireit. agos|sot arch- 
diagon creula6n kyuoetha6c | [fo. 516>—517>] arnunt 6ynteu 
ydinustyr yr offeilreit ar pléyfeu og6byl. &c. 

1 De Caseo et Rato et Cato. 


[XIV VERS EIRYOIR AVIS Gay Val ONS 

Anyan yr eryr y6, pan vo ida6 veijbyon adar pan vont yn 
diga6n | oedranus ef ae drycheif 6ynt uch y | nyth yedrych yn 
erbyn yr heul. Ar | ederyn aallo edrych oe gedernyt yn | erbyn 
yr heul ef ageid6 h6nn6 ac | ae mac. Ar un nys gallo ef. ae b6r6 
dros | y nyth allan y6 golli. Velly yr Argl6lyd du6 yssyd ida6 
veibyon adar yn yr | egl6ys gatholic yman. Y rei awelo ef | eu 
bot yn deilong my6n d6y6a6l | wasanaeth adaeoni yspryda6l. 
vrei | hynny avac ef ac ageid6 gantha6 | Ar rei ereill anteilong 
yn ymrodi y | daearolyon betheu gan dremygu d6y|wolyon 
byngkeu—a v6r6 ef yn y tywlyll6ch eithaf—yn y lle mae wylofein | 
a deincryt. 

1 De Aquila.—Odo. 


PXeVe VY WEMGO DEN a ACR GATE.) 


Llygoden gynt a | oed yn rodya6 my6n tavarn | g6in. ac 
odrycdamwein hi a g6ym|pa6d my6n pylleit or g6in geyr bron | 
ytunnelleu. Ac yno Illefein adrycyrjuerth aoruc. Ac 6rth y llef 
yeath ar | vrys adoeth ac aovynna6d paham | [fo. 517=518] 
ydoed hi yn Ilefein velly. Ar Iygoden | adywa6t. Amvy mot 
ym perigyl om | bywyt. Ac na allaf ymrydhau heb nerth. | Ac 
yna ydywa6t ycath Beth aroy di | ymi yr dy rydhau ath tynnu 
odyna. Ar Ilygoden adywa6t. Beth bynnac aer|chych mi ae 
g6onaf. Or mynny di ymi | dy nerthu yr a6rhonn mi avynnaf 


FABLE LITERATURE IN WELSH 55 


ytt | dyuot attaf pan yth aloyf gyntaf. Ahynny | awnaf yn llawen 
heb yllygoden | Moes dy gret ar hynny heb ycath. Ae | chret 
aroes yllygoden y g6naei a | vynnei. Ac yna ycath aestynna6d 
y | balyf ac adynna6d yllygoden or | poll ac ae gollynga6d yn 
ryd yre|dec racdi. A threigylg6eith pan yttoed | y cath yn rodya6 
a diruabr newyn | arna6é dyuot cof awnaeth ida6é y | amot ar 
llygoden. Ac ar_vrys dyuot | Ile g6ydyat vot llochwes y Ilygoden 
adywedut; or tu maes oe la6n Ilef | Y Ilygoden dyret yma attaf 
-yneges. | P6y 6yt ti heb yllygoden. Ycath | 6yfi heb ynteu. 
Na deuaf y rofi | adu6 heb yllygoden. Paham heb y | cath pony 
rodeist di dy gret ar dyuot [fo. 5175=518P] attafi pan y harch6n 
ytt. Ie heb y | llygoden br6ysc oed6n i yna ac am | hynny ny 
chynhalyafi amot yr a6r | honn. Velly yr awrhonn Ila6er or 
bobyl | pan vont gleifyon neu ymy6n perigyl | aada6ant wellau 
eu buched ac na | wnelont vyth gamwed yn erbyn | du6 na dyn. 
Eissoes pan dianghont | ohynny ny chynhalyant dim oe he|dewit 
xan dywedut Ie ym6yn perigyl | ydoedwn i yr amser h6nn6. 
Ac am hyn|ny nyskynhalyaf. Megys ydywedir | am ry6 longwr 
gynt aoed my6n gar6 | vordwy apherigyl oe vywyt. Ac adaw | 
aoruc ydu6 yryamdiffyn ohynny y | bydei wr da tra vei vy6. 
Aphan doeth | ef yrlann ac yrtir dilys. dywedut aoruc | Aha 
Jessu mi ath d6ylleis yn wir yr a6r | honn. Ny bydafi wr da etto. 
1 De Mure et Cato. Contra non implentes uotum.—Odo. 


This Fable is considerably expanded. The Latin Text contains 
no reference to the sailor, 


Poi ey BARCUD, A’R PE DRIS.1] 


Barcut gynt aedrycha6d ar y | vreicheu ae ylyf ae ewined 
ac | adywa6t. Ponyt yttoyfi yngyn | gryfet ac yngynrymusset 
ogorff | ac aelodeu ar llymhystaen. Paham | na ladaf inneu 
partrissot megys hijtheu. Ac ar hynny arganuot niuer | 
[fo. 518=519] ma6r obartrissot aoruc ad6yn ruthyr | udunt 
a daly vn ae yluin. adeu dan y | d6y adein. Adeu dan y deutroet. 
Ac yna | 6rth na allei eu daly oll eu colli yn H6yr | aoruc. Megys 
ydywedir yn lladin. Qui | totum cupit totum perdit. Ac 
oacha6s | hynny ny lauurya6d ef vyth m6y ygelissa6 daly 
Partrisset. Velly &-c: 


1 De Milvo et Perdicibus.—Odo. 


wil. Y .cCADNO VARY CHILIOG.1] 


Catno gynt adoeth yr ieirdy yn ymlyl c6rt uchel6r. A son 
a glywsp6lyt oe dyuotyat ef yno. A dyuot yna aw|naeth g6eisson 
or Ilys allan. ae ordiwes | ae vaedu yny yttoed yn var6 haeach. 
Ac o damwein diangk yr6ng amin | achloyt allan aoruc. Ac 
megys ygalla6d ffo | yny doeth yweirglod. Ac yno mynet y | 


56 FABLE LITBRATURE IN WELSH 


orwed my6n myd6l oweir ach6yna6 | ydoluryeu aoruc adyuot 
y gedymdeithes | yno atta6?. Ac erchi aoruc ynteu idi hi | 
gyrchu yr offeirat, atta6 megys y gallei | gyffessu y bechodeu kynn 
yvar6. Achyr|chu aoruc hitheu fra6bud yclyr. Sef oed | h6nn6 
y keilya6c. Kanys ef yssyd gaplan | yr aniueileit ar adar. A 
phan doeth ef | lle ygwelei ycatno ofynhau aoruc gan | adnabot 
y drycaruer. Aco bell erchi ida6 | [ fo. 5185—519>]| dywedut y gyffes. 
A hynny aoruc ycat|no. Ac yn hynny estynnu y benn awnaeth | 
tu ac att y keila6c. Paham y nesey di at|tafi:heb y keilya6c. Tra 
dolur awna ymi | hynny heb ycatno madeu ym. Ac yna | 
kvffesu ych6anec aoruc. Aphan weles | ygyfle yn vrad6orya6l 
neidya6 aoruc yr keijlya6c ae daly ae yssu. Deallet y darllea6dyr. 
1 De Volpe (szc) qui confitebatur peccata sua gallo.—Odb0o. 


2 Super cumulum feni se proiecit et gemere incepit. Petiit Capellanum 
quod ad eum ueniret et peccata sua audiret.—Odo. 


PxXVII YY: GYLIONEN AIR. WADE CORAM 


E gylyonen gynt ajoed yn ehedec dan | ganu gan ystlys 
mur. A hi aarganjuu yr adyrcop ynylochwes yn gorffowys. | 
A dywedut, aoruc 6rtha6 ef. Ny ellir dim | athydi heb hi kanys 
mi aehed6n yn | un dyd m6y noc agerdut ti yn dec di6farna6t. 
Nac ehedut am gyng6ystyl heb | yr adyrcop. ‘Minneu ae 
kynhalyaf heb | hitheu. Dieithyr hynn heb yr adyrcop ni | a yf6n 
y g6in yn gyntaf. Ag6edy hynny | yr un ae collo ohonam talet 
drosta6. A | bit velly heb y gylyonen. Arho oric heb | yr adyrcop. 
Mi awnaf gortynys yn arder|cha6c? yn kylch ac yn h6nn6 yd 
eistad6n | ac yhyfon yg6in. Gwna ditheu heb hi. Ac | yna 
vystoui y we aoruc yr adyrcop’.. Aphan | yttoed yn bara6t gal6 
ygylyonen atta6é | aoruc. Adyuot awnaeth hitheu. Ac yn | 
[fo. 519=520] gytneit ac ykyhyrda6d ar we glynu awnaleth 
y thraet ae hadaned ynda6. Ac ymdraffill | aoruc hitheu y geissa6 
- ymrydhau odyno | ac nys gallei. Ac yna ydywa6t ygylyonen | 
Emelldigedic vo yry6 g6rtynys h6nn | kannyallafi dyuot ohona6. 
Ac yna y | dywa6t yr aldyrcop. Yn wir nyt ey di odyna | vyth yn 
vy6. A d6yn h6oyl idi athorri y | phenn. At hic cortinus est 
mulier pulchra.4 


1 De Contentione Vespe et Aranee. Qualiter decepit prosperitas 
humana et cetera.—Odo. 

2 unam cortinam albam et pulcram.—Odo. 

3 Vnde tele Aranearum cortine Lumbardice dicuntur.—Odo. 

4 Hec cortina est pulcra mulier, mundi amenitas, etc.—Odo. 


[XIX Y LLYGODEN DY “AR ELMGODEN aera boss 

Llygoden ty gynt agyuaruu allygo|den vaes. Ac aouynna6d 
idi pa ry6 | voyt agaffei yny meyssyd. Ahitheu a | dywa6t mae 
ffa calet weitheu agaffei | weitheu ereill gra6n sychyon. Yna 


FABLE LITERATURE IN WELSH 57 


y dyGj;a6t yllygoden ty. Calet allesc y6 dy ym|borth di. aryued 
y6 dy vy6 rac newyn. Ac | yna ygouynna6d yllygoden vaes 
idi hijtheu Apha ry6 ymborth ageffy di heb hi. | Yn wir y boyt 
goreu abrassaf amelyssaf | or kic goreu ac or bara goynn goreu 
ar | ca6s tyneraf. adyret titheu ygyt ami | adref heno. Ac 
velly yg6naethant. A phan | yttoedynt velly 6ynt awelynt ossot 
byrdjeu ad6yn b6ydeu adiodyd diga6n. Ar | hynny 6ynt awelynt 
vriwsson bara gwynn | yn disgyn yar ybyrdeu. Yna ydywa6t | 
[fo. 519>=—520P] Ilygoden yty Orth yllall. Neitta racco ti | 
awely yssyd oymborth ytt. os mynny. Ady|uot aoruc 
y llygoden vaes oe llochwes allan | achaffel briwssonyn or bara 
gwynn. Ac ar | vrys neita6 aoruc ycath idi ae daly haejach. 
Ae eissyoes ovreid ydienghis hyt | yffeu,2 Adywedut wrth 
y chedymdeithes a | oruc. Aoes ytti yn wastat yry6 gedymdelith 
hynn yn keissaw dydinustyr. Oes | yn wir heb hitheu. aheuyt 
_ef alada6d | vymam i am tat. Ac yna ydywa6t ylly|goden 
arall. yn dilys ytti yr yr holl vyt | ny mynn6n i drigya6 ynyry6 
berigyl | h6nn6. Wrth hynny tric di gyt ath v6ytleu blyssic. 
eanys g6ell y6 gennyfi ffa | calet agra6n sychyon aid6fyr yny 
meys|syd gan dilysr6yd heb perigyl no phob | ry6 ansa6d or 
aaller yvedylya6 ynyry6 | enbeitr6yd apherigyl h6nn. Megys 
y | dyweit y wers yn lladin Rodere malo fabam quam cura perpete 
rodi. Velly am per|sonyeit a bicarieit yr eglwys droy symo|niaeth 
ac usur yn buchedockau yn an|heilong pei synyynt ar pa veint 
berigyl | ymaent yn ymborth 6ynt avydynt | aflawen. Kanys 
ef adywedir ar bot [bob] ta-| [fo. '520=521]  meit or 
ab6rceasser yngham vot ykyth|reul megys ykath yn eisted yn 
bara6t | ylyngku yp6rcass6r. Ac am hynny gé6ell | oed v6yta 
bara sych gan gytwybot da. 


1 De Mure domestica et silvestri vel campestri. Contra symaniacos 
(stc) et usurarios.—Odo. 

2 et vix euasit in foramen. Ait Mus domesticus: Ecce, frater, quam 
bonos morsellos frequenter comedo, maneas mecum per aliquot 
dies.—Odo. i ; 


Pee YY GETHLYDD ~ AR BWRNED.*) 

Anyan ygethlyd y6 dotwi awna’ | my6n nyth yb6rnet. ac 
eisted a | wna yrederyn h6nn6 ar wy ygethlyd | megys yr eida6 
ehun achreu ederyn | ohona6. Ae vagu awna yny vo ma6r a | 
chryf. Aphan vo aeduet ef achryf llyng|cu y vagya6dyr awna. 
Ac velly ydieylch | ef yveithryn. Velly ymae Ilawer or | boby’ 
yn erbyn ac yn anhiryon y g6n/ant dr6c ac anhirionr6yd yr rei ae 
ma|gassant ac awnaethant udunt da yn | eu gwendyt ae tlodi. 
Ar rei hynny a | ellir eu kyffelybu y ederyn y gethlyd. 


1 De Cucula et Burneta. Contra illos qui insurgunt in suos beneficos. 
—QOdo 


58 FABLE LITERATURE IN WELSH 


[XX SY DI Va nA NAN Aer 


Er aniueileit gynt awnaethant | barlyment ach6nsli.2 Ac 
yno yr | anuones y Hyffant yvab. Ac oagkof a | thrabrys hebyrgofi 
yesgityeu aoruc y | mab gartref. Aphan weles yllyffant | yr 
esgityeu medylya6 awnaeth poy agaf|fei yn da y bedestric y d6oyn 
yvesgityeu  y6 vab. Amedylya6 pany6 esguttaf oed yr 
ysgyuarna6c ac ygallei hi yn da wneujthur [fo. 520P=—521?| 
y neges ad6yn yesgityeu newyd yvab | ef. Achyh6ord| ar 
ysgyuarnoc aoruc. ac ajda6 g6erth idi yr doyn yr esgityeu yn | 
esgut y6 vab. Ac yna ydywa6t yr | ysgyuarna6c Orth y llyffant. 
Pa de|l6 y gallafi adnabot dy vab di ymy6n | kynulleitua kymeint 
ac yssyd yno. | Yn wir ytti heb yllyffant yteccaf oll | ymplith 
y gynulleitua honno | h6nn6 y6 vy mab i. Paham heb yr ys| 
gyuarna6c ae y paun y6 dy vab di neu | yglomen. Nac ef yn wir 
heb ef kanys | traet hagyr dybryt yssyd yr paun a chic | du hagyr 
yssyd yrglomen. Ac yna y | dywa6t yr ysgyuarna6c. Pa ry6 
dr6s/syant [yssyd ar] dy vab di. Yry6 dr6ssyant allun | awely 
di arnafi. Yr un ffunyt benn a | chorff ac aelodeu ar. meu inneu 
yssyd | ym mab i y teccaf oll yo honn6 ida6 ef | dyro di yr esgityeu 
&c. Edrych di y | tracharyat aoed gantha6 ef ar yvab | gan 
debygu y vot ef yndeccaf yr yvot | yn haccraf oll ac yn anffur- 
ueidyaf.$ 


1 De Filio Bufenis et Sotularibus. Contra falsum iudicium rationis 
ex affectione.—Odo. 

2 Celebraueiunt concilium.—Odo. 

3 Venit Lepus cum sotularibus et narrauit Leoni et ceteris bestlis 
qualiter Bufo pre ceteris filium suum commendauit. Et ait Leo: 
Ki Crapout exme, Lune li semble. Si quis amat Ranam, Ranam 
putat esse Dianam,—Odo. 


(DEX VeNGAdn ACR Swi GO eae 


Me6n ffreutur myneich gynt | ydoed wreath ma6r rac llygot | 
yn gorchad6. a h6nn6 adaroed ida6 di- [fo. 521—522'] | nustyr 
y llygot oll dyeithyr un ormes | o hen lygoden ystryogar aoed 
yn ymgad6 | racdi. Ac yn hynny medylya6 aoruc ycath | pa 
vod ykaffei daly yllygoden honno ae | dinustyr. a medylya6 
keluydyt neoyd | nyt amgen peri gwneuthur abit mynach | ida6 
ac eilla6 yvaryf ae gorun. Ac eisted | ymplith ymyneich. ab6yta 
ac yfet a | oruc. Ac yn hynny dyuot awnaeth y | llygoden yr 
ffreutur adisg6yl awelei dim | y6rth ycath. Aphryt nas g6elei 
Hawen | ahyfryt vu arodya6 awnaeth dan y | byrdeu a chynnull 
yb6yt yn diofyn ac | or diwed dynessau aoruc tu ar Ile yr oed | 
ycath yn eisted. A g6edy yhirodef nys | gadei yanyan ida6 
avei h6y neita6 aoruc | adaly yllygoden yn. ffest ac yn 
gadarn. | Ac yna y dywa6t y Ilygoden Paham y | dely di vyui. 
Pa ry6 greulonder a6ney | ami. Ponyt mynach 6yt ti. ag6r 


sii a 


FABLE LITERATURE IN WELSH 59 


ejsl6yssic. Yna ydywa6t ycath. Yn wir | ytti yr daet 
y pregethych ny dienghy | yn diboen kanys pan vynn6yfi mi a | 
vydaf vynach. Aphryt nas mynn6yf | mi avydaf gath.2 &c. 
Dealle|d'] y darllea6dyr. 


1 De Cato qui se fecit monachum. Contra ambientes honores et 
beneficia et dignitates, etc.—Odo. 

2 quando volo, sum monachus, quando uolo sum canonicfh]us. Et 
deuorauit Ratum. 


60 FABLE, TIPE RALTURE EN Whom 


TRANSLATION: 


fle THE CROW VWAND EE (BORROW Dy ribo MiSs | 

[fo. 509>.] Aperiam in parabolis os meum loquar propo- 
citiones. The crow once upon a time beheld itself ugly and poorly 
clad, and it came to ‘the eagle to complain thereof. And the eagle 
commanded it to go to borrow plumes from various birds. And 
this it did, taking of the wings of the peacock, and of the pinions 
of the dove, and from other birds according to its own wish. And 
when it was magnificent with all such kind of plumes, it began 
to mock and to caw and to call to all the birds. Thus it was that 
the birds came to complain to the eagle against the crow. And 
the eagle then said: ‘‘ Let each bird take its feathers from it, and 
so shall it be humbled.’’ And this they did, and they left the crow 
ugly [and] unshapely as it had been before. So with regard to a 
wretched necessitous man who may be proud of his ornament and 
his clothes and his apparel. Let the sheep take its wool and the 
earth its flax, and the oxen and other animals their hides, and so 
he remains a wretched man, shamefully unadorned. And then, of 
all the power and the worldly wealth, when the end of his lifetime 
and [fo. 510] death shall come at last, nought shall follow him, of 
his worldly riches, except a poor shroud, into the earth. This 
is a fable and an example against the powerful, worldly, wealthy 
ones, and especially those who confide in the multitude of their 
riches, with no other God to them than such. As it is said in 
Latin, Qui in multitudine diuitiarum suarum gloriantur. And 
then when almighty God take away their wealth from them, they 
also shall be humbled completely, &c. 


(lis: Tb MOLE AND = EE NG 


The mole was once upon a time burrowing in the ground, 
and then the desire came unto it to see mountains and hills and 
trees and valleys and rivers. And so it ascended above the soil, 
and prayed the eagle to raise it unto the sky to obtain a view of 
the world. And this the eagle did. And when it was in the 
height of the sky, the eagle said to it: ‘‘ Dost thou now behold 
what thou hast: never seen, mountains, trees, valleys and rivers?”’ 
““T behold,’’ it said, ‘“ yet would I prefer to be in my hiding-place 
in the ground, [fo. 510>] and in my own haunt.’’ And then the 
eagle dropped it to earth, and in that fall it was shattered. So, 
where a poor one be envious, he will not be content with any of 
that which God has given him, but will desire to ascend on the 
wings of the wind, and will beg of the eagle, that is, the devil, 
to raise him into wealth and riches. And when he considers his 


FABLE LITERATURE IN. WELSH. 61 


state in that height to be dangerous, he would prefer to be in 
poverty unconcerned as he was before, lest, at the hour of death, 
the devil drop him so that he fall into the pit of hell, whence there 
is no escape, but endless torment, from which may God protect 
Mee men. 

iSite AR TINS BERD] 

A certain bird is called St. Martin’s Bird,.and it is small, 
resembling a wren, which is called the flea of the oak. And it has 
long legs. And on one occasion, about St. Martin’s Day, it was 
_ walking along the stem of an oak, the sun being bright, and, 
looking at its [own] legs, it said, “‘Ah! what might! If all the 
sky were now to fall to earth, I could support it altogether upon 
my two legs.’’ And whilst it was thus admiring itself, through 
the excitation of the wind, [fo. 511] one of the withered leaves 
fell from the summit of the tree towards the ground. And when 
he heard that stir, through exceeding great fear and trembling, 
he uttered a loud cry, saying: ‘‘Ah, good God and St. Martin, 
heip your innocent bird.’’ Thus, verily, are many of the people 
now, in the time | of success] they believe, and in the time of trial 
they recede. As it is said: Qui ad tempus credunt et in tempore 
tfemptationis recedunt. As Peter did once when he said of Jesus, 
that neither on account of prison nor of death would he forsake 
him, and that he would deny him not, and yet, when he beheld the 
abusing of Christ and the torturing of him, he denied him to his 
face. And as the Psalm says, Filii effreym intendentes et mittentes 
arcum suum conuersi sunt in die belli. This also may be likened 
to many of the knights and rich men, when they be around the 
fire drinking the strong wine and the ale, they say that one of 
them would not be [lacking] against four of the French in fighting. 
Yet, at morning, when they come into the field, and behold their 
enemies in arms, and the lances keenly facing them, then they say 
[ fo. 511>] like the bird above, ‘‘ God, and St. Martin,’”’ ut supra. 


[I1V. THE WOLF MADE MONK.] 


The wolf one time wished to be made a monk, and through 
great pursuit and entreaty, this was granted him. And he was 
tonsured, and a habit made [for him], and he was placed to learn 
his prayers. And it happened that he still sang, a lamb or a 
wether, a lamb or a wether. Thereby he was commanded to look 
at the image of the cross. And it was at the sheep that he looked. 
So, the monks at this time, when they ought piously and worthily 
to perform their holy offices, they look at the sheep—and those are 
the beautiful women and the sweet wine and the delicious fruits— 
and at such wanton things, completely neglecting their rules and 
their religion. As it is said in English, jey ho Jan wold hor wwlff 


-hode to prest euer bath hes wiles at je wode. 
E 


62 FABLE LITERATURE IN WELSH 


[V.° THE BEELER 7AN De rEiis: =) WING Epeien| 


The beetle once flew into an orchard where there were diverse 
plants and noble fruits and red roses and white ones, and lilies and 
fennel. And then he alighted in a dunghill where there were 
much horse refuse and cow dung. [fo. 512] And there he found 
his mate. And she asked her husband where he had been. He 
answered, ‘‘I have encircled the earth, and have wandered about 
in many fair, magnificent places, amidst diverse sweet-smelling 
plants and delicious fruits, yet have I never seen a place as 
pleasant and quiet as this,’’ speaking of the dunghill. So, many 
of the monks and scholars and laymen, when they read, or when 
they hear the reading of the lives of saints, or other fruitful, 
praiseworthy stories, for the increase of wisdom and the feeding 
of the soul by means of them, all this will be useless for them, 
unless in taverns they may procure conversation with prostitutes, 
jesting, and the hearing of empty minstrelsy and dissolute songs, 
to the decrease of wisdom, and to the increase of sin and the 
inviting of the devil, who is wholly a vile dunghill and stinking 
filth, as succour, instead of the angel of light. 


IVMIiE Sars PAGE NID) LE CRO es 


The eagle once: sickened with a complaimt of the eyes, and 
called to himself the crow, who is called the bird’s physician. 
And he asked the crow what | fo. 512>] he wouid advice concerning 
his disease. And the crow said: ‘‘I shall make thee a plaster 
which will make thee well.’’ And the eagle said: “‘If thou do 
that, I shall pay thee truly for thy labour.’’ And the crow went and 
took tallow and asperge and pounded them together and placed 
them on the eyes of the eagle. And thereby he lost utterly [the 
sight of] his eyes. Anid then the crow went and killed the youny 
of the eagle and devoured them; and then came and beat the 
eagle and wounded him. And then the eagle said: ‘‘O, cursed be 
thou and thy remedy! First of all thou didst destroy me, and 
then didst destroy my sons. And now, thou dost afflict me with 
frequent. strokes.’’ Then the crow replied: ‘‘ Yes,’’ said he, “‘ so 
long as thou didst see, I dared not to meddle with thy sons, yet, 
J desired it and wished to do it often. And now I have got my 
will and my pleasure.’’ And he, the eagle above, is the prelate of 
the Church and the keeper of souls, with his eyes open, preserving 
his sons, none other than the faith [belief] which God commanded 
to be kept eternally wise. The crow is the devil, [fo. 513] lusting 
for the birds through deceiving the souls of the common people. 
Yet, while the wise and skillful prelate have his. eyes open, keeping 
the fold, the devil dare not oppress them or meddle with them. 
What the devil ‘en does is to devise a remedy, none other than 


= ee Sor eats 


FABLE LITERATURE IN WELSH 63 


to make a plaster of a multitude and abundance of worldly riches, 
and to place it on the eyes of the prelate to stop his eyes from 
regarding spiritual things and heavenly deeds and wise sermons 
as the remedy of souls, giving him large rents anid courts and 
magnificent palaces, and great steeds and oxen and sheep, and 
diverse other animals besides, and so to blind his spiritual sight, 
and to destroy his birds and to devour them. And then to afflict 
himself and to weary him with the keeping of the wealth and con- 
tending for it without rest. And at, last to torment him eternally 
in the endless torment, unless God prevent it. 


Pitre SOW AND: VHE * DREGS.| 


The lion once made a feast, and invited all the animals to that 
feast. And there they obtained diverse foods and [fo. 513>] 
drinks, liberally. And when the feast was over, all went towards 
their homes. And when the wolf was going through a fortress 
towards his home, he beheld the sow devouring lees and dregs in 
the road. And she asked the wolf where he was coming from. 
And he replied that he was coming from the royal feast of the 
fieieeewand why,’ said he, — hast thou not been there?’’ 
fev Wat “said she, was to be got there? Were there dregs? ”’ 
eeliush 4 said he.“ cursed be thou!. Is it) proper that there 
should be, at the feast of one so noble, such unworthy food?”’ 
Thus many of the people ,although they hear learning and great 
wisdom, they will give nought for that, unless they find dregs, 
which are adultery, idleness, carnal desire, as Hosea says in the 
third [chapter] “‘ Respiciunt ad deos alienos et diligunt vinacia 
uvarum.’’ Which is corruption and sin. 


Diie= THE hKOX AND THE. SAILOR.] 


The fox once would have himself taken over the sea, and 
came to the sailor, and entreated him, for the payment of his 
labour, to take him over. And the sailor 


[Conclusion missing. | 


exe 2k Ox AND TH (CAT. | 
[Beginning missing]. | 


[fo. 514=515] . . and Reynard said: ‘‘Do thou have no anxiety, 
I shall show thee well enough how thou mayst escape from them.”’’ 
And hurriedly, behold the huntsman and his dogs close to them 
pursuing them eagerly. And then Reynard |i.e., Tibergus]| said 
to Tibergus [i.e., Reynard], ‘‘ Verily, I shall no longer follow 
thee, I shall practise my own art.’’ And speedily, he leapt into a 


04 BABLE HITHRATURE IN WEESE 


tall oak and climbed to its summit, and then looked around. And 
then in the place, behold the hounds, without attending to the cat, 
but pursuing Reynard and without delay catching him, some of 
them by his head, others by his neck, others by his back. And 
thus, they rent him between them. And then Tibergus said at the 
top of his voice: ‘‘Reynard, Reynard, open thy wallet; verily, all 
thy arts will not avail thee any more.’’ The cat symbolizes the 
modest, guileless, inoffensive ones, who have only one art, that 
is to believe in the true God and to live a guileless life in this world 
to the end of their life and | till] death, and then to heaven to have 
life eternal, sine fine. And Reynard the Fox symbolises the dis- 
honest lawyers and [fo. 514b-=515»] the false advocates and the 
lying deceitful physicians, and the unjust judges, who know sixteen 
dishonest arts, also a wallet-ful of them. Yet when come the 
huntsman and his hounds, that is to say death, with hell-hounds 
to pursue and to catch them and to plunge them in hell without 
their being able to oppose them, then the faithful, honest, guileless 
one shall be in the height of heaven in security, with the angels, 
looking at the devils tormenting (?) them. And then he shall say : 
‘“ Reynard, Reynard, open thy wallet; verily, all thy cunning and 
thy arts can no more free thee from the teeth and talons and 
prongs of the devils.’’ 


Exo TE CROW, VAND: TE = DONE 

The crow once took one of the young of the dove by force. 
from her to her own nest. And the dove pursued her there and 
entreated her to restore her young again, And then said the 
crow: “‘Canst thou sing?’’ ‘I can,’’ said the dove, “but that 
the manner of it is not very good.’’ ‘‘ Do thou then sing,’’ said 
the crow. And the dove sang, as she could. Then the crow said : 
y sing better, or verily, thou shalt not have [to, Sils—-ol6)athy 
~ young.’’ And the dove said: “‘I cannot and I have not the skill 
to sing better.’’ ‘‘ For that reason,’’ said the crow, ‘“‘ thou shalt 
not have thy young;,’’ And speedily the crow and her mate 
devoured the young bird. Tjhus the tyrannous rich and the evil 
officials oppress the modest, guileless ones, taking their oxen and 
their innocents, and their worldly goods besides, which God would 
give them to maintain themselves upon. And when that guileless 
one comes to beg for his own property, offering threescore or 
fourscore to him, then says he: ‘‘ Ha, brother, dost thou not 
know how to sing better?’’ Then the honest poor one says: 
‘No, in truth, and I cannot, for I am but poor and necessitous, 
and I am giving more, God knows, than I am able to.’’ Then 
the tyrannous rich one or the evil official says: ‘‘Go thou home, 
for verily, thou shalt have nought of that which I have of thine.’’ 
And so, he takes his own from him and destroys him as well. 


FABLE LITERATURE IN WELSH 65 


PE Mii eS Ee AND eae aN Ol ks] 


The sheep once came to complain to the lion against the wolf, 
and said that by force and by stealth he was [fo. 515b—9616? | 
killing and taking their children and comrades. And then, the 
lion summoned his council to him, and amidst the animals, the 
lion asked the pigs why they allowed the wolf to be amongst them, 
he being a thief and a ravager. And then the pigs replied: ‘‘ Lord 
king,’’ they said, ‘‘the wolf is a generous, courteous animal.’’ 
And that they said because, when the wolf killed the sheep and 
the lambs, he invited the pigs to eat their portion of his prey. 
And then the lion said: “‘It is not so the sheep say. Let them be 
heard now.’’ And then one of the sheep said: ‘“‘ Lord king, the 
wolf killed my mother and my father and also killed one of my 
children, and it was barely that I escaped myself.’’ And so all 
the sheep said. And then the lion said: “‘ And I shall now give 
judgment. Let the wolf be hanged for his theft and his rapine, 
and the pigs along with him because of their agreement and their 
support through deceit and iniquity.’’ And that was done. Let 
the reader understand. 


Piss TEE” MOUSE: "AND THE “FROG. | 


The mouse once wished to cross a river, and when it was 
[fo. 516=517] on the edge of the river, it saw a small frog 
between the water and the brink. And it saluted and entreated 
the frog to assist it over if ij could. And the frog said: ‘‘ Come 
forward and bind thyself to one of my feet, and I shall swim with 
thee over.’’ And the mouse did so. And when they were about 
half way over, a kite discovered them and made a dash and snatched 
them both and took them with him. So, in the same manner, 
when livings and great possessions and the cure of souls are given 
to a foolish, ignorant, unworthy one, the devil comes to snatch 
both, that is, the keeper and the community, unless God save and 
protect, them. 


Pet THE CA SAND) THE) CHEESE. | 


There was once a man, who perceived the trace of a plague 
of a rat eating and destroying his cheese in his chest. And he 
took a big he-cat which he had and put it in the chest with the 
intention of protecting the cheese. And the cat killed the rat and 
ate up all the cheese. In thei selfsame manner, the bishops give 
the cure of souls anid spiritual power to diverse priests, and they 
set a cruel, wealthy archdeacon [fo. 516>—5175] above them, to 
destroy the priests and the parishioners altogether. 


00 FABLE LITERATURE IN WELSH 


[XIV THE + EAGLE” AND 1S; wouNne:| 


The nature of the eagle is [this], when he has young birds 
and when they are sufficiently old, he raises them above his nest 
to look at the sun, and the bird which, by reason of its strength, 
may be able to look in face of the sun, he will keep and foster ; 
and: that which is unable, he casts it out of the nest to perish. 
Thus the Lord God has sons in the Catholic Church here; those 
whom he perceives to be worthy in divine service and spiritual 
goodness, he fosters and keeps with him; and the unworthy ones 
who devote themselves to earthly things, despising divine matters, 
he casts into the utter darkness, where there is weeping and 
gnashing of teeth. 


[XV.\ THE MOUSE ANDTHE, CAty 


There was once a mouse walking in a wine tavern, and 
through an evil accident it fell into a pool of the wine near the 
tuns. And there it fell a-crying and wailing. And at, the cry 
the cat came speedily, and asked why | fo. 517518] it was crying 
so. And the mouse said: ‘‘ Because I am in danger of my life, 
and that I cannot free myself without help.’’ -Then the cat said: 
‘“What wilt thou give me for releasing thee and taking thee out? ’”’ 
And the mouse said: ‘‘ Whatever thou mayst demand, that I 
shall do.’’ ‘‘If thou wouldst that I should assist thee now, I will 
that thou shouldst come to me when I may first call thee.’’ ‘“‘ And 
that I shall joyfully do,’’ said the mouse. ‘‘ Give thy oath upon 
that,’’ said the cat. And the mouse gave its oath that it would 
do whaever the cat wished. And then the cat extended its claw 
and pulled the mouse out of the pool and released it to run along. 
And upon one occasion, when the cat was walking about in great 
hunger, the pact with the mouse came to its mind, and it said 
from the outside at the top of its voice: ‘‘ Thou mouse, come 
here to me for an errand.’’ ‘‘ Who art thou?’’ said the mouse. 
‘““T am the cat,’ it replied. ‘‘I shall not come, I swear by God,”’ 
said the mouse. ‘“‘Why?”’ said the cat, ‘‘didst thou not take 
thy oath that thou wouldst come [fo. 517/—518>] to me when | 
should call thee?”’ ‘‘ Yes,’’ said the mouse, ‘‘I was drunk then, 
and therefore I shall not; keep my promise now.’’ Thus, now, 
many of the people, when they are ill or in danger, they promise 
to improve’ their lives, and that they shall never commit wrong 
against God or man. Yet, when they escape therefrom, they will 
keep nought of their promise, saying, ‘‘ Yes, I was at that time 
in danger, and therefore I shall not fulfil.”’ As it is said of some 
sailor who was on a rough voyage and in danger of his life. And 
he promised to God, in return for his protection, that he would be 


FABLE LITERATURE IN WELSH 67 


a good man while he lived. And when he came to land and on 
safe ground, he said: “‘Aha! Jesus, I have indeed deceived thee 
now. I shall not yet be a good man.”’’ 


Pavia. THE. Kink AND THE PARTRIDGES. | 


A kite once looked at its limbs and beak and talons and said : 
“*Am I not as strong and as powerful of body and limbs as the 
hawk? Why should not I also kill partridges as he does?’’ And 
ati that he beheld a large number |fo. 518=-519] of partridges, 
and made a rush at them an’d caught one in his beak, and two 
under his two wings, and two under his two feet. And then, 
because he could not hold them all, he lost them all. As it is said 
in Latin: Qui totum cupit totum perdit. And for that reason he 
never more laboured to try to catch partridges. Thus, &c. 


Ravi THe POX AND THE COCK.) 


A fox once came into the hen house near a gentleman’s court, 
and a rumour was heard of his coming there. And then servants 
from the court came out, and caught him and mauled him until 
he was nearly dead. And by accident he escaped between post 
and gate, and as best he could, fled until he came into a meadow. 
And there, in a heap of hay, he lay ‘down and bemoaned his 
wounds. And his mate came to him there, and he commanded 
her to fetch the priest to him, so that he might confess his sins 
before dying. Andi she fetched the friar of the flies, that is, the 
cock, for he is the chaplain of the animals, and the birds. And 
when he came where he could see the fox, he became afraid, know- 
ing his evil ways. And from afar he ordered him | fo. 518>—519} | 
to make his confession. And the fox did so, and at that extended 


his head towards the cock. ‘‘ Why dost thou draw near to me? ”’ 
said the cock. ‘“‘ Over gredt pain causes me to do so,’’ said the 
fox, ‘“do thou forgive me.’’ And then he confessed further. 


And when he saw his opportunity, treacherously he leapt at the 
cock and caught and ate him. Let the reader understand. 


Pati. THE GNAT AND THE SPIDER.| 


The gnat was once flying and humming by the side of a wall, 
and she beheld the spider in his den at rest. And she said to him: 
**Nought can be done with thee, for I would in one day fly further 
than thou couldst walk in ten days.’’ ‘“‘ Thou wouldst not, ! 
meeonetaiee, said the spider. —~ And I accept,”. she replied. 
‘“But besides,’’ said the spider, ‘‘ we shall first drink the wine, 
amd then, whichever of us may lose, let him pay for it.’’ ~“‘‘ Let 
fibers. said the nat. "Wait al bit,’"‘said the spider, “1 shall 
make a curtain magnificently to surround us, and within it we 
shall sit and drink the wine.’’ ‘‘ Do thou,’”’ said she. And then 


68 FABLE TILE RALURE, IN Waal Skt 


the spider wove his web, and when it was ready he called the gnat 
to him. And she went. And [fo. 519=520}] as soon as she 
touched the web, her feet and wings stuck to it. And she 
struggled, seeking to free herself therefrom, but could not. And 
then the gnat said: ‘‘ Cursed be this kind of curtain, for I cannot 
come out of it.”? And then the spider said: ‘‘ Verily, thou shalt 
never get out of it alive.’’ And he made a rush at her, and cut 
off her head. At hic cortinus est mulier pulchra. 


[XIX. THE DOMESTIC MOUSE AND THE FIELD MOUSE. | 


A domestic mouse once met with a field mouse, and asked it 
what kind of food it, got in the fields. And it said that sometimes 
it got hard beans and at other times, dry grain. Then the house 
mouse said: ‘‘ Thy fare is hard and poor, and it is a wonder that 
thou art alive in spite of hunger.’’ And then the held mouse asked 
it: “‘ And what kind of food dost, thou get?’’ ‘‘ Indeed, the best 
and the richest and sweetest of the best meat and of the best 
white bread and the softest cheese. And do thou come home with 
me this night.’’ And so they went. And when they were thus 
together, they beheld the laying of tables and the bringing of 
plenty of foods and drinks. Then they saw crumbs of white bread 
falling from the tables. And the house mouse said [fo. 519>= 
520]. to the other : ‘‘Leap over there, thou seest what food there 
is for thee, if thou wouldst have it.’’ And the field mouse came 
out of its hiding-place, and got a morsel of the white bread. And 
quickly, the cat leapt; upon it and almost caught it. And it was 
barely that it escaped into its lair. And it said to its comrade: 
‘“Hast thou always this kind of company, seeking thy destruc- 
tion?’’ ‘“* Yes, verily,’’ replied the other, “‘ and besides, it slew 
my mother and my father.’’ Then said the other mouse: “ Truly 
1 tell thee, I would not for the whole world dwell in that kind of 
danger. Therefore, dwell thou with thy savoury foods, for I 
prefer hard beans and dry grain in the fields, with security and 
without danger, to all kinds of preparations imaginable in such 
jeopardy and danger as this.’’ As the Latin verse says, ‘‘Rodere 
malo fabam quam cura perpete rodi.’’ Thus, concerning thei clergy 
and vicars of the Church who, through simony and usury, live 
unworthily, if they were to consider what amount of danger they 
bear, they would be cheerless. For it is said of every morsel 
|fo. 520=521] which is unjustly purchased that the devil sits 
like a cat ready to devour the purchaser. And for that reason, it 
were better to eat dry bread with a good conscience. 


[XX. THE CUCKOO AND THE BURNET 


The nature of the cuckoo is that it lays its egg in the nest of 
the burnet, and that bird sits upon its egg as upon its own and 


FABLE LITERATURE IN WELSH 69 


hatches a bird therefrom. And it, rears the bird until it become 
big and strong. And when it is mature and strong, it devours its 
nurturer, and so it repays its nourishing. Thus are many of the 
people contrary, and callously they practise evil and cruelty to 
those who have nurtured them and who have done them good in 
their weakness and poverty. And those may be compared to the 
young of the cuckoo. 


Petr tak. LOAD AND .HIS--SON. ] 


The animals formerly made a parliament and council, and 
there the toad sent his son. And through forgetfulness and great 
haste, the son forgot his boots and [left them] at home. And 
when the toad saw the boots, he considered whom he might have 
able to walk well to take the boots to his son. And he thought 
that. the hare would be the swiftest, and that she could well fulfil 
[ fo. 5206 —521]| the office and bring the boots quickly to his son. 
And he met with the hare, and promised her payment for taking 
the boots quickly to his son. And then the hare said 


feothe toad: “How can I. recognize thy son in such 
mecumltnnde> ~  “ilruly 1 tell thee,”’ said the — toad, 
‘‘ the fairest of all in that multitude, he will be my son.’’ ‘‘ Why,”’ 
said the hare, “‘is thy son the peacock or the dove?’’ ‘‘ Verily, 


no,’’ said he, “‘for the peacock has unsightly, deformed feet, 
and the dove has black, unsightly flesh.’’ And then the hare said: 
““What kind of apparel is thy son’s?’’ ‘‘The same kind of 
apparel and form as thou seest upon me; my son has the same 
description of head and body and limbs. He is the fairest of all, 
to him shalt thou give the boots.’’ Consider thou the great love 
he bore his son, supposing him to be the fairest, although he is 
the ugliest of all and the most deformed. &c. 


ext THE ‘CAT -AND. THE. “MOUSE. | 


In a friary of monks formerly there was a big he-cat guarding 
against mice, and he had [fo. 521522] destroyed all the mice, 
excepting one plague of a mouse, old and crafty, which was able 
to avoid him. Hence the cat considered how he might catch and 
destroy that mouse. And he invented a new device, that is, he 
caused a monk’s habit to be made for him, and his beard and the 
crown of his head to be shaved. And he sat among the monks 
and ate and drank. And then the mouse came into the friary to 
look whether he could see anything of the cat, and seeing nought 
of him, he was merry and delighted, and walked about under the 
tables, and gathered the food which was falling. And at last he 
came near to the place where the cat was sitting. And after long 


7o FABLE LITERATURE IN WELSH 


endurance, so that\ his nature would no longer allow him, he leapt 
and caught the mouse quickly and firmly. Then the mouse said: 
‘““Why dost thou catch me? What cruelty wouldst thou do to 
me? Art thou not a monk and an ecclesiastic?’’ Then the cat 
said : ‘* Verily, I tell thee, however well thou mayest preach, thou 
shalt not escape easily, for when I desire I shall be a monk, and 
when I desire it not I shall be a, cat... 7 Wen Ver ather reades 
understand. 
T. GWYNN JONES. 


TRAJANO BOCCALINI'’S 


“RAGGUAGL] DI PARNASO” AND ITS 
INFLUENCE. UPON ENGLISH LITERATURE. 


To many students of English literature, Trajano Boccalini, the 
celebrated Italian satirist,is scarcely more than a name, and little 
is known either of his literary work or of its influence upon English 
literature. It is true that modern critics have acknowledged his 
importance in the history and development of English criticism, 
but only by way of a general comment upon the probable direction 
of his influence. Thus both Spingarn and Saintsbury refer to the 
extraordinary impression created by his “ Ragguagli,’ and remark 
upon its effect, not only upon the form of criticism, but also upon 
the development of the essay and the finished periodical of the early 
eighteenth century.! 

To trace the nature and extent of this impression is, therefore, 
the aim of the following essay, and with this end in view it is pro- 
posed, after the translations have been enumerated, to deal with the 
influence of the ‘ Ragguagli di Parnaso’ upon (a) the literary 
subject-matter, (b) the literary form of the seventeenth and early 
eighteenth centuries. 

This, however, can be accomplished only when we have 
acquainted ourselves with the personality and works of this 
comparatively unknown author. 


I. LIFE AND WORKS, WITH SPECIAL REFERENCE TO THE 
RAC CUACHI e 


TRAJANO BOCCALINI was born in Loretto in the year 1556. Here 
his father, Giovanni Boccalini, a papal official, held the position of 
architect to the “ Santa Casa,” the legendary birthplace of the 
Virgin Mary, which, according to tradition ‘ had been transported 
by the angels into the vicinity of Loretto in order to dissipate the 


{Saintsbury : “ History of Criticism’ 1902. Vol. II. 330. 
1 VSpingarn : ‘ Critical Essays’ 1908. Vol. I. xxiii. ff. 


74 TRAJANO BOCCALINI 


power of unbelievers.’ Giovanni, a native of Carpi, who attained 
to this position shortly before Trajano’s birth, owed his advance- 
ment to the influence of his fellow-countryman, Cardinal Ridolfo 
Pio, but in spite of this patronage, the family appears to have been 
in needy circumstances, and Trajano, whose tastes were literary, 
was obliged to adopt his father’s profession. He himself com- 
plains that he was past his first youth ere he was able to indulge his 
tastes for the higher branches of study, and that even when he 
succeeded in pursuing such studies, his efforts were ever accom- 
panied by incessant toil for a livelihood. 

After terms of study at Bologna and Padua, he proceeded to 
Rome, where he applied himself to the study of law: that he also 
devoted much time to literature is clearly evident from his works. 
The exact date of his arrival in Rome is not known, ; it is certain, 
however, that in 1583, three years after his father’s death, he was a 
student at Padua, and it is also beyond doubt that he studied in 
Rome under the Dutch philologist Muretus, who died in 1585, so 
that it would appear that he arrived in Rome during the intervening 
period 1583-5. More definite evidence, however, is supplied by the 
document, which records his marriage with Ersilia Ghislieri in Rome 
in 1584, and this is the year that is usually regarded as the date of 
an important change in his career. Boccalini was henceforth so 
closely identified with his adopted city, that he frequently referred 
to himself as a Roman, with the result that he alone is responsible 
for the prevailing misconception that Rome was his birthplace. 

There can be no doubt that it was to the period which followed 
this marriage that he referred when he wrote in his ‘ Commentaru 
sopra Cornelio Tacito’}! that it was only with the utmost endeavour | 
that he was able to maintain his family. His poverty would thus 
account for the employment of his leisure hours as a private in- 
structor, an occupation, which in due course brought him both 
honour and fame, for Cardinal Bentivoglio, who in his memoirs 
describes him as his Geography tutor, declares him to be the world’s 
greatest authority on Tacitus. 

Introduced to the notice of Pope Gregory XII., he was ap- 
pointed in 1591 Governor of Benevento, where he was not entirely 
successful. Notwithstanding this failure, Clement VIII., when he 
ascended the papal throne, extended his patronage to Boccalini, 


1 ‘ Bilancia politica di tutte le opeve di Ty. Boccalini.’ Castellana, 1678, 
Wy 24. 


TRAJANO BOCCALINI 75 


who was now appointed legal officer in the Governor’s Tribunal in 
Rome. Here again we read of complaints concerning his adminis- 
tration, while he himself speaks of this office with little enthusiasm. 
His brilliant talents and wide culture, however, won him success 
and acquired for him the friendship of such powerful patrons as the 
Cardinals Caetani and Borghesi. 

During the papacy of Paul V. (1605) sympathy with Spanish 
policy and domination was revived at the Vatican, and when the 
Pope, in attempting to extend the temporal power of the Church, 
became involved in a quarrel with Boccalini’s well-beloved free 
state of Venice, he could no longer refrain from expressing his dis- 
satisfaction with the papal policy. He began at this period to dis- 
play his repugnance towards this type of Church government and 
his hatred of the Spanish domination in humorous but biting satires, 
which resulted towards the close of his stay in Rome in the * Rag- 
guagl di Parnaso’ and the ‘ Pietra del Paragone Politico.’ ‘These 
satires, distributed in manuscript among his friends and patrons 
did not remain unseen by the spying eyes of the Inquisition, and 
Boccalini, who, during the last three years had held appointments 
as Governor in Argenta, Matelica and Sassoferrato (1608-1611), 
deemed it wise once again to change his place of abode. Rather 
than risk the hate of the Spaniards, he retired in 1612 to Venice, 
where he hoped to find the security Rome could no longer offer him. 
For a short while he enjoyed the hospitality of this state, but he 
could not escape his fate. Scarcely had he published the ‘ Rag-. 
guagh, when on November 16th, 1613, he died, ere he had com- 
pleted what he considered to be his life-work—‘ The Commentary on 
Lacitus.’ ‘There is not complete agreement as to the manner of his 
death ; the oft-repeated story that he was sand-bagged to death 
by ruffians in Spanish pay is without foundation. ‘The register of 
Santa Maria Formosa in Venice attributes his death to “ dolore 
colic et febre, but it is now generally accepted that he died of 
poison administered by sympathizers with the Spanish cause. 

To Boccalini’s literary activity only passing reference has 
been made; we must, therefore, now turn to the work which is 
by far the most important in connection with his influence on 
English literature— J Ragguagli di Parnaso’ or ‘ Advertisements 
from Parnassus.’ 


=6 TRAJANO BOCCALINI 


The aim of these satires is, in Boccalini’s own words, ‘to couch 
important politick affairs and choice moral precepts under meta- 
phors and jesting tales (a new invention).’ In the ‘ Dedication ’ 
to the First Century, he asserts more definitely that he proposes 
to utter in humorous fashion truths concerning the passions 
and customs of mankind and the endeavours and activities 
of princes. ‘The work consists of a series of two hundred 
dispatches, written in ‘relation’ form at the court of Apollo on 
Parnassus, where the god is surrounded by the Muses and his court, 
consisting of the eminent men of all ages and nations, a brilliant 
assembly of emperors and queens, generals and statesmen, philoso- 
phers and poets, historians and reformers. Among the Virtuosi— 
to name only a few of the Ancients—are found the seven wise men of 
Greece, the philosophers Plato and Aristotle, the historians Livy 
and ‘Tacitus, the poets Vergil and Horace and the warriors Caesar 
and Brutus. With these mingle a vast crowd of the distinguished 
personages of mediaeval and modern Italy as well as a great 
number of the select of all periods drawn from every country in 
Europe. 


Parnassus is represented as a highly organised city, over which 
the benign but despotic Apollo holds absolute sway, while Boccalini 
himself assumes the important role of gazetteer or ‘menante ’ and 
thus reports the occurrences and events of that fantastic region. 
His imaginary kingdom is portrayed in great detail. We are intro- 
duced into a realm renowned for its schools, colleges and academies 
and possessed of all the machinery of administration ; like all 
civilised kingdoms it has its regal councils, its magistracies and its 
ptisons, its well-trained naval and military guards, and its legions 
of “satyrical poets.’ 

Its activities, also, are many and varied. At the command of 
Apollo, festivals and carnivals are arranged for the amusement of 
the citizens, and plays and imposing spectacles presented at the 
maintheatre. Special days are set apart for mourning or dedicated to 
the commemoration of important occurrences in the history of the 
kingdom, while frequently times are appointed for the imposing 
function of hearing the claims of those who seek admission into 
Parnassus, or of those who desire the gift of immortality at the hands 
of the all-powerful monarch. 


TRAJANO BOCCALINI 77 


With the aid of his officials and their tribunals, Apollo holds 
judgment upon the manifold activities of earth and treats the 
questions that pertain to the administration of Parnassus. Here 
all proposals are examined and affairs of general policy settled ; 
arguments and disputations are conducted before the god, matters 
of dispute and cemplaint adjusted and punishment meted out to 
delinquents and evil-doers. In short, the affairs treated in the 
councils of Parnassus include the whole sphere of political and 
literary activity and embrace all interests of contemporary life. 

A few examples will suffice to illustrate their variety and scope. 
The princes of the world, on presenting themselves before Apollo’s 
throne to complain that ‘by reason of their subjects’ hainous in- 
fidelity they are forced to forego the government of mankind,’ receive 
as their only satisfaction the god’s advice to rule justly and merci- 
fully, and not to abuse the loyalty of their subjects by regarding it 
as the ‘baseness of an abject mind.’ ! ! 

On another occasion, in order to encourage the senators of free 
countries ‘to cultivate liberty without affecting tyranny,’ Apollo 
orders the terrible consequences of Caesar’s “inordinate ambition ’ 
to be displayed in Melpomene’s theatre, where would-be tyrants are 
horrified by the murders and assassinations, which befell Caesar 
and ali his family. 2 

It is noticeable that in his treatment of political affairs, Boc- 
calini ever shows preference for the government of free states and 
holds up that of Venice as the pattern to be followed by the whole 
world. A goodly number of advertisements are thus devoted to 
praise ot the Venetian Commonwealth. An interesting illustration 
isfound in ‘ Ragguagl:’ I.5.,a passage describing alearned discussion 
as to which was the best political law in the flourishing Common- 
wealth of Venice. After a lengthy discussion, ‘that most excellent 
lady, the Venetian Liberty,’ who has been invited to arbitrate, 
applauds the opinion of Ermolao Barbaro that ‘her pretious jewel ’ 
“in which she so much gioried ’ was the secrecy of her two hundred 
and fiity senators ; ‘ for secrecy,’ she remarks, ‘is no less necessary 
for the well-governing of states than good counsel.’ 

The politics of all the ages is reviewed by the author, but al- 
though the immediate subject may seem remote, in all cases the 
work is full of allusion to the conditions of his own time. ‘Thus 
Caesar is made to tax Brutus with ingratitude merely in order to 


h Rae. 99; Ras 130} 2h Rag. TZ 
F 


78 TRAJANO BOCCALINI 


elicit from the latter the explanation that tyranny must be fought 
with its own weapon, treachery ;! Theodoric the Great is refused 
admission into Parnassus, that Apollo may censure the encourage- 
ment of heresy by princes for temporal purposes,2 while Machiavel 
is indicted and condemned for a seducer and corrupter of mankind 
just to allow the accused in his defence to state that the main re- 
sponsibility lay not with him, but with the princes ‘ who invented 
these mad desperate policies.’ 3 

Space allows of only passing reference to his frequent thrusts 
at the Spanish domination, his scathing satire on the irregularities 
of lawyers and politicians, his ironical schemes for the reformation 
of the world, themes which stand out among a mass of kindred 
subjects ; but a pause must be made to examine the literary aspects 
of the work. In this sphere, also, its scope is world-wide ; ancient, 
mediaeval and modern liferati mingle together in a vast, fantastic 
gathering to provide the occasion for the utterance of ‘ choice 
politick precepts ’ and appropriate critical dicta. His treatment of 
literary matters reveals him to be a man of great knowledge. 
He is well acquainted with the masters of literature, fully con- 
vetsant with the great controversies of previous ages and above 
all is a man endowed with keen critical faculties. His sound 
sense and bold judgments earn for him from Addison the title 
‘that judicious author.’ We must not, however, look to him for 
long critical discourses on the principles that underlie the art of 
poetry, but rather for practical hints and incidental judgments, 
uttered as occasion demands. 

In the course of the daily routine of Parnassus Boccalini finds 
ample opportunity to air his critical beliefs. In ‘ Ragguagl’ I. 61 
the occasion is a refusal by Juvenal to contend with Francisco 
Berni in satirical poetry. ‘The author’s opinion as to the principle 
which should underlie comparisons involved in such contests is 
well displayed in the explanation which Juvenal makes for his 
refusal, namely, ‘that the excellency of satyrical poetry consists 
not in having a bold wit, quick spirit, a detracting talent, in sharp 
bitter reparties, handsome sonnets and ready replies ; but in the 
condition of the times wherein men live.’ 

The rejection of Tasso’s ‘ Gierusalemme Liberata’ by Cas- 
telvetro, the reformer*of the library, because he ‘ had not therein 
observed the Rules of Poetry, published by Aristotle ’ provides the 

1 Rage ae Aly Zag. Slama 3 Rag, 82: 


the 


TRAJANO BOCCALINI 79 


setting for a long speech by Apollo, in which he severely reprimands 
Aristotle for his impudence in publishing rules to be observed by his 
Virtuost, whom he desired to be free. Aristotle is forced to confess 
‘that he had writ the rules of poetry, not in that sense in which it 
was understood by the ignorant, as if without observing his rules, 
no poem could possibly arrive at perfection, but that only to facilt- 
tate the art of poetry, he had showed the way, wherein the best 
poets had walked.’! Because of the ‘newness of his conceptions, 
his easie vein and pleasant wit,’ Tasso is accordingly at a later stage 
created Prince-Poet and Lord High Constable of Itelian poetry.? 
On the other hand the learned laconic, who is too verbose in his 
discourse, is condemned to read Guicchardini’s tedious ‘ War of 
Pisa,’ while the critic, who ‘ left the roses’ to make an ‘ unuseful 
collection of the thorns or prickles’ of the poem and presented 
Apollo with a censure of the poet, is condemned to sell the chaff of 
wheat throughout eternity.4 Boccalini’s advocacy of the criticism 
of beauties is also well set forth in Apollo’s answer to Petrarch’s 
commentator, ‘who had endeavoured to shew the occasion of the 
sonnet ’ and the true signification of the words and conceit of the 
poet: ‘for, for his (Apolio’s) part, he loved those commentators, 
which discovered unto the reader the author’s subtility in weaving 
ot his poem, who showed wherein the excellency of his verse lay 
which were his flourishes and which the other poetical beauties.’5 

Moreover, the extensive nature of his literary studies is tre- 
vealed in numerous sections, connected with literary history. 
Justus Lipsius, famous for his studies on Tacitus, a few days after 
his entrance into Parnassus appropriately accuses Boccalini’s well- 
beloved author of impiety and consequently falls into disgrace, 
only to be readmitted into Apollo’s favour, when he has made 
amends for his lapse by withdrawing the charge and acknowledging 
Tacitus to be the foundation of his own great fame.° Pico, Count of 
Mirandola, unable to reconcile satisfactorily the rival Platonic and 
Aristotelian philosophies advises Apollo to secure a date for public 
disputation between the two luminaries. Amid great pomp the 
discussion is opened only to end by leaving the differences unsettled 
and the audience highly delighted at the great display of wit and 
learning.’ Nor are the historians omitted, for Apollo, learning of the 
many disorders which are found in History, summons a General 

i pakage nh. 38. De NAC Oo: 3) Rage 6. 4 Rag. I. 100. 
o> Rag. 1.35. 6 Rag. I. 23 and 68 7 Rag. II. 16 and 50. 


80 TRAJANO BOCCALINI 


Assembly of Historians and publishes a severe edict against them, 
Among the offenders are Julius Caesar and Guicchardini; in order 
that Boccalini may once more extol Venice, the latter is censured 
‘for having spoken amis of the Venetian Commonwealth which was 
called by the whole assembly the Sanctuary of the Vertuosi, the 
true Seat of perfect Liberty, the Glory of the Italian Nation.” 

It will thus be seen that the work is cast in a mock-heroic mould 


and takes the form of an allegorical comedy. Mary Augusta Scott . 


aptly describes the work as a kind of ‘ Dunciad,’ full of livelv satire 
on the lives and writings of famous Italians and his eminent con- 
temporaries.2. In spite of their bizarre mcck-heroic form, the Ad- 
vertisements are, thus, in the words of Mestica “ not only a work of 
art, but an historical picture and a biting satire. The author’s 
touch is, however, light and playful; a vein of humorous irony 
pervades the whole piece, which is developed throughout with a 
brisk and vivacious movement. ‘There is ever an air of roguery, 
even of rascality in the manner in which the gazetteer assembles 
upon the stage the various actors in this strange comedy and ridi- 
cules their foibles and follies. His striking literary and political 
judgments are skilfully interwoven with the amusing accounts of 
their various activities, so that the interest of the work is generally 
maintained. But the author is not always successful and the adver- 
tisements are inclined frequently to be monotonous ; indeed, the 
obscurity of many of the hits causes them often to become tedious 
and tiresome to the modern reader, but to Boccalini’s contem- 
poraries and immediate successors who knew the force of every 
allusion and the point of every thrust they were undoubtedly 
brimful of interest. 

The impression which the ‘ Ragguagl’ created must have 
been extraordinary. Published in two sections in Venice (1612-13), 
within 100 years it had run into close upon twenty editions and 
had given rise to an unusually large number of sequels, adaptations 
and imitations. This recognition was thoroughly merited, for 
Boccalini contributed something entirely new both to the form and 
content of literature. His ideas were so striking and original, his 
fiction so arresting that it was received by the public with great 

IL Rag, Ih OO. 

2 Publications of the Modern Language Association of America. Vol. 

XIV oie 


2 Giovanni Mestica: ‘ Tvajano Boccaliniela lettevaturacritica e politica 
del Seicento.’ Florence, 1878, p. 41. 


TRAJANO BOCCALINI 81 


enthusiasm and the gazetteer of Parnassus succeeded in impressing 
the imagination not only of Italy but of the whole of Europe. 


Il. THE INFLUENCE OF THE ‘ RAGGUAGLI’ UPON ENGLISH LITERA- 
TURE. 


THE ‘Commentarit sopra Cornelio Tacito’ may be Boccalini’s 
greatest work, but the most far-reaching in effect and importance 
is undoubtedly the ‘ Ragguaglt di Parnaso.’ Its extraordinary in- 
fluence upon European letters of the seventeenth and eighteenth 
centuries is due without doubt in some measure to the absorbing 
interest of the subject-matter, but above all to the striking form 
in which the work appeats. So picturesque a medium for political 
precept, criticism and satire could not fail to attract attention 
and inspire imitation, so that the ‘° Ragguagl’ was, within a 
short period, translated into all the languages of western Europe 
and very frequently imitated by Spanish, French, German and 
Dutch authors. This profound impression was no mere temporary 
tage, for translations and imitations followed one another in quick 
succession throughout the seventeenth century. Naturally the 
effect was not so immediate on this side of the English Channel, but 
there can be no doubt that the Italian’s influence was also very con- 
siderable in England. 


(a) TRANSLATIONS. 


THE translation of a work is not always conclusive proof of its 
influence, but a series of such occurring at frequent intervals in the 
course of a century is certainly a significant factor ; it is thus to the 
translations that we will first direct our attention. 

A section of Boccalini’s work was first translated by Sir William 
Vaughan. This English rendering of the unfinished political satire 
‘ La Pretra del Paragone Politico,’ described in the advertisement 
as the composition of ‘the famous Trajano Boccalini’ was 
published in 1626 under the title: Ae 

‘The New-Found Politicke . .. wherein the Governments, 
Greainesse and Power of the most notable Kingdomes are discovered 
and censured. Together with many excellent Caveats and Rules fit 
to be observed by the Princes and States ... which have reason 
to distrust the designs of the King of Spain . . . translated into 
English. London. F. Williams, 1626.’ 


C 
i) 


TRAJANO BOCCALINI 


The same year saw a virtual translation 1 by the same author 
of ‘ Ragguaglt’ 1.77, which describes the proposals of the congregation 
instituted by Apollo for the reformation of the world. The trans- 
lation is followed by Vaughan’s sequel, in which Boccalini is made to 
accuse ‘ these reformers for their hypocritical suggestions and con- 
spiracies against the sacred honour of Apollo in setting out pro- 
clamations only to please fools . . . whereas their office and charge 
was to see a general Reformation of all the most notorious vices 
which affected the Generation of Humankinde.’ ‘This ‘ translation- 
adaptation ’ is embodied in ‘ The Golden Fleece,’ a work which we 
shall have to note later as a most remarkable imitation. 

Thirty years later appeared the first complete translation by 
Henry Cary, Earl of Monmouth. 

“IT Ragguagh di Parnaso or Advertisements from Parnassus . . . 
With the Politick Touchstone ; Written originally in Italian by that 
famous Roman Trajano Boccalim. 1657.’ 

This translation, reprinted in 1669 and 1674, appeared in 1706 
in a further edition, ‘revised and corrected’ by John Hughes. 
With reference to this edition, Dr. Johnson? remarks that though 
Boccalini was ‘introduced by such strong recommendation ’ the 
Italian had but few readers. Such a reference from the greatest 
literary scholar of the eighteenth century is at least interesting, 
although to judge from the number of translations and from the 
allusions to him in the criticisms and writings of that age, it would 
appear to be somewhat strange. : 

In 1704, however, there had appeared a translation by yet 
_ another hand. 7 | 

‘ Advertisements from Parnassus... . newly done into English 
and adapted to the present tume, together with the author's Politick- 
Touchstone, his Secretaria dt Apollo? and an account of his life by 
N.N. 1704.’ 

This is undoubtedly the translation to which Swift refers in 
the ‘ Address to the Reader’ which is prefaced to the ‘ Tale of a Tub.’ 
He complains of the appearance of a surreptitious copy, which 
‘had been polished or refined or, as our present authors express 
themselves, fitted to the humour of the age ’ as they had already done 
‘with great felicity to Don Quixotte, Boccalini, La Bruyére and 


1 William Vaughan: ‘The Golden Fleece’ 1626. 

2 See Chalmers’ “Hives of the Poets Nola xX, 4: 

3 The ‘ Secretaria di Apollo,’ published anonymously in 1653 is now 
attributed to Antonio Santacroce, one of Boccalini’s Italian imitators. 


TRAJANO BOCCALINI 83 


other authors.’ That Boccalini is grouped with such distinguished 
writers and not assigned a place among the other authors is surely 
significant testimony of our author’s popularity at that time. An 
interesting tribute to his writings is found also in the advertisement 
to the ‘ Secretaria di Apollo. ‘’Twere impertinent’ writes the 
author, ‘ to tell you this is another piece of that famous Boccalini, 
whose name you have already seen in the title-page. Yet when I 
have said this, tis the greatest applause that I can give it ; for to 
attempt his character, who has so far excelled all mankind were to 
betray my own want of expression and do injustice to the man, whose 
picture can only be viewed in his own letters and advertisements. 
This author’s writings have always been admired by men of letters 
for the sharp satire, deep politics and refined learning, which they 
contain and this new translation is approved and recommended to 
the world by Sir Roger Le Strange and several others of the greatest 
wits of the present age.’ 

This list of translations is, thus, in itself a decisive answer 
to Johnson’s comment and affords convincing proof of the popu- 
larity of the ‘ Rageuagl’ in England during the century that 
followed its publication. ; 


(0) Its INFLUENCE ON THE LITERARY SUBJECT-MATTER OF THE 
PERIOD. 


It is very probable that the ‘ Ragguagl’ also found extensive ° 
circulation in England in its original tongue. Strong evidence for 
this assumption is offered by the publication in 1622, four years 
before the appearance of Vaughan’s translation, of the first direct 
English imitation, ‘News from Parnassus’ by Thomas Scott. More- 
over, Boccalini is cited by Edmund Bolton in his ‘ Hypercritica’ 
(1618),1 only five years after the “ Ragguagl’s ’ first appearance in 
Venice. Dealing with the ‘rules of judgment for the writing of 
history ’ in a series of “ Addresses,’ which savour strongly both in 
subject and metaphorical quality of Boccalini’s ‘ Assembly of 
Historians, 2 he remarks in a brief review of ‘Tacitus that some 
affirm him ‘to be the most irreligious of Ethnicks, notwithstanding all 
‘that which Boccalini in his late Lucianical Ragguaglias hath under- 

1. “ Hypercritica’ or ‘A Rule of Judgment, for writing or veading of 
Hlistorys’ 1618. 

2 Rag. I. 55. 


84 TRAJANO BOCCALINI 


taken on his behalf.’ Tacitus, the arbiter of taste in historical and 
political affairs, had occupied an unusually prominent position in the 
councils of Parnassus, so that Bolton’s reference and the undoubtedly 
metaphorical and illustrative quality of the whole work suggest an 
intimate acquaintance with the ‘ Ragguagli di Parnaso ’ in its origin- 
al Italian version. Thus, the ‘ Advertisements’, circulated both in 
English and in Italian, naturally exercised a potent influence upon 
many authors of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. 

Frequent traces of this influence may be found first of all 
in the literary subject matter or perhaps more especially in the 
critical work of the age. Boccalini is cited by many and various 
authorities, whose references are no mere casual allusions to him as 
an author, but direct quotations drawn from the body of the work. 
What appeared to attract the critics was not so much the intrinsic 
value of his literary judgments as the picturesque and illustrative 
manner of presentation, so that the ‘ Ragguagli’ became a kind of 
storehouse, to which they repaired when they required a striking 
passage to emphasize their utterances, a procedure which would 
imply that the Italian had anticipated many of their judgments and 
criticisms. 

Thus Gerard Langbaine, in defending Shakespeare against the 
onslaughts of Dryden! quotes Tasso’s arguments to Apollo in 
defence of his ‘ Grerusalemme Liberata ’—a passage often cited by 
seventeenth century opponents of the rules—‘ that he had only ob- 
served the talent which nature had given him and which his Caliope 
had inspired into him: wherein he thought he had fulfilled all the 
duties of poetry, and that his Majestie having prescribed no laws 


thereunto, he knew not with what authority Aristotle had pub- | 


lished any rules to be observed in it, and that he never having heard 
that there was any other lord in Parnassus but his Majestie, his 
fault in not having observed Aristotle’s rules was an error of ignor- 
ance and not of malice.” 

In the same way, Thomas Pope Blount, treating of Tasso in his 
‘ Characters, and Censures 3, illustrates the immense impression 
created by the ‘ Amntas’ by a quotation from Ragguagh I. 59. 
‘For this reason,’ he writes, ‘ Boccalini in his Parnassus feigned, that 
the Italian poets, having broke open Tasso’s private desk, where he 

1 Gerard Langbaine: ‘Essay on John Dryden 1691.’ 

2 Cf. Rag. k. 28. 

3 Sir Thomas Pope Blount: ‘ De Re Poetica etc., 1694.’ 


TRAJANO BOCCALINI Be 


kept his choicest Compositions, stole away his ‘ Amintas’ which 
they divided amongst themselves ; and that it might not be dis- 
covered, they fled to the Palace of Imitation, as to a secure Sanc- 
tuary.’ 

The story of Boccalini’s laconical writer, who was indicted and 
sentenced “for speaking that in three words, which he might have 
said in two’ reappears in English literature and is reiterated on 
several occasions. It is introduced by Steele as a preface to a dis- 
course on ‘ prolix and circumstantial ’ writings and speeches! while 
it is utilized by Yalden in his fable ‘A Laconick Condemned ’2 to 
satirize the dulness of the ‘ Vindication of the Lords,’ which is substi- 
tuted for Guicchardini’s ‘ War of Pisa.’ The story is still current in 
1789, for Horace Walpole in a humorous letter to Miss Berry writes 
_ that he will sue for a divorce in foro Parnassi, where Boccalini shall 
be his guide. ‘The cause,’ he continues, ‘shall be a counterpart to 
the sentence of the Lacedaemonian, who was condemned for breach 
of the peace by saying in three words what could be said in two.’ 

The pages of the ‘ Spectator’ and ‘ Tatler’ afford further proof 
of the familiarity of the early eighteenth century with the ‘ Rag- 
guagh ’ and of the latter’s influence upon the critical thought of the 
age. Addison in one of his essays? endeavours to point out that the 
critic is concerned as much with the appreciation of beauties as with 
the enumeration of faults; but even here he has been anticipated by 
the versatile Boccalini. And to show his readers the opinion ‘ that: 
judicious author ’ entertained of carping critics, he relates the story 
of Apollo dooming the critic, who looked only for defects, to sell 
empty chaff to the end of his days.+ 

Mr. Spectator’s conviction that writers should disregard 
malevolent criticisms and prattle is also aptly illustrated by the 
Italian’s picturesque pronouncement ‘ that the Travailer, who being 
annoi'd with the noise of grasshoppers in the midst of scorching 
July, should alight from his horse to kill them all, were a very fool ; 
whereas he were wise, who, though he had a pair of good ears, would 
seem to be deaf, pass on his way and let them sing and burst.’5 

The most remarkable illustration of the influence of the Par- 
nassus subject-matter on these essays is, however, to be found in 


Steele: ‘ Tatler 264.’ 

See ‘ Yalden ’ in ‘ Chalmers’ Lives of the Poets, Vol. XI. 92.’ 
Addison: ‘Spectator 291.’ 

chikace 1, 100: 

Spectator 355, cf. Rag. I. 100. 


ar oh 


86 TRAJANO BOCCALINI 


Mr. Spectator’s ‘ Vision of Parnassus,’! which not only embodies 
the Parnassus motive but also includes Boccalini among the citizens 
in his capacity as gazetteer. The dreamer finds himself in the plains 
of Boeotia, where at the end of the horizon the mountain Parnassus 
rises before him. Havirg resolved to climb its steep ascent, he aims 
for a grove parted out into a great number of walks and alleys. At 
length, at the end of a range of trees he sees three figures seated on a 
bank of moss, with a silent brook creeping at their feet. Solitude, 
Silence and Contemplation guard the outer entrance to the sacred 
kingdom. Solitude arises and leads the way to the mountain of the 
Muses. Having arrived at the inner gates, which are guarded by Mel- 
pomene and Diligence, the dreamer becomes faint-hearted, but is 
reassured at the sight of a peasant-like man, who insists upon entrance 
for a large number of people, who have just arrived with him. Produc- 
ing several papers from a bundle, he presents them to the guards with 
the remark that they come trom those whom Apollo would accept 
as guarantors. The dreamer, perceiving that some of them appear 
to contain his handwriting, enters with the rest and now takes the 
toad that leads to Apollo’s throne. He arrives ultimately between 
the two peaks, where he finds a most delicious vale, the habitation of 
the Muses and of such as had composed works worthy of immortality. 
Apollo, seated upon a throne of gold under the spreading boughs of 
an ancient laurel, is surrounded by the Muses and the elect of all 
climes and ages, among whom in places of honour stand Homer, 
Vergil and Milton. ‘There are, however, a great number of others. 
‘I saw Pindar,’ writes the dreamer, ‘ walking all alone, no one 
daring to accost him, until Cowley joined himself to him ; but grow- 
ing weary of one, who almost walked him out of breath, he left him 
for Horace and Anacreon, with whom he seemed infinitely delighted. 
A little further I saw another group of figures. I made up to them 
and found it was Socrates dictating to Xenophon and the Spirit of 
Plato ; but most of all Musaeus had the greatest audience about 
him.’ ‘ Lastly, at the brink of the hill,’ he concludes, “ I saw Bocca- 
lini sending despatches to the world below of what happened upon 
Parnassus, but I perceived he did it without leave of the Muses 
and by stealth, and was unwilling to have them revised by Apollo.’ 

In addition, however, to many such direct references, there 
are also scattered throughout the pages of seventeenth and eigh- 


teenth century literature numerous passages, distinctly reminiscent 
1 Spectator 514. 


TRAJANO BOCCALINI 87 


of the ‘ Ragguagli’ fiction. In this direction also, Boccalini’s influence 
is especially felt in the works of the prose essayists of the early eigh- 
teenth century, who would appear to owe a great deal to the Rag- 
guagl, by laying its story under frequent contribution. Hallam 
remarks that ‘in the general turn of Boccalini’s fiction and perhaps 
in a few particular instances we may sometimes perceive what a 
much greater man has imitated ; they bear a certain resemblance 
to those of Addison, though the vast superiority of the latter in 
felicity of execution and variety of invention may almost conceal 
it.1 This statement is also equally true of the works of Steele and 
Swiit. It is necessary, therefore, to make more detailed reference 
to the influence exerted upon these three writers, and for this 
purpose we will turn first to the * Tatler’ and ‘ Spectator.’ 

‘That the ‘ Ragguagl’ was well-known to both Addison and 
Steele and that their interest therein was not inconsiderable has 
already been suggested by their frequent allusions to the work; 
but a closer comparison of the ‘ Essays’ and the ‘ Advertisements ’ 
reveals many resemblances of a striking kind. 

There are in the first place further traces of the ‘ Ragguagl: ’ 
fiction. Each composition takes the form of a series of periodical 
news-sheets, fused into one harmonious unity by an effective 
organization. The ‘ Tatler’ certainly, has not the machinery of the 
* Shectator’ but the hurry from one club to another, the collection 
of news from each of these sources and the connection of Isaac 
Bickerstaff and Jenny Distaff provide some kind of organisation, 
whereby the various numbers, appearing with the author’s ‘ advices 
and reflections every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday’ are con- 
nected. The machinery of the ‘ Spectator’ is, however, much more 
elaborate ; it has for its framework a club, from which the essays 
issue in the form of descrrptions of the observations and deliber- 
ations of its various members. The unity of the “‘ Advertisements ’ 
is maintained by a similar device—they are consecutive accounts 
of the events of the Kingdom of Parnassus. 

In each case, also, the organisation from which the advices 
issue is regarded as the final authority on all matters in its particular 
sphere. Thus Apollo, Mr. Spectator and Isaac Bickerstaff are the 
supreme arbiters in the multifarious questions of their respective 
realms. In this capacity they receive numerous petitions from dis- 
contented subjects, issue proclamations for the welfare of their 

1 ‘History of European Litevatuve’ (1872), Vol. III p. 351. 


88 TRAJANO BOCCALINI 


domains, tender advice on current problems and mete out punish- 
ment or praise as occasion demands. 

Numerous officials are appointed to aid the arbiters in their 
administrations. Apollo has his censors, reformers, judges and 
guardians of the library, while the essayists have their directors, 
superintendents, censors of dress and small wares. The ‘ Tatler’ 
resembles the ‘ Ragguagli’ very closely in this respect, for Bicker- 
staff in No. 144 assumes the title ‘ Censor of Great Britain ’ and in 
virtue of this office institutes courts, sets forth edicts and presides 
over the trials of offenders. ‘Thus while Boccalini describes the 
activities of Apollo’s assizes, his courts of flattery, ingratitude and 
hypocrisy, Steele relates the proceedings of Bickerstaff’s courts of 
honour, of inquisition on maids and bachelors, and of the correction 
of enormities of dress. Just as the subjects of Parnassus are from 
time to time arraigned before one or other of the Parnassus tribunals 
so are the contemporaries of Bickerstaff haled before those of the 
Censor of Great Britain. | 

In many cases the fiction itself is reminiscent of that of the 
‘ Ragguagh ’’, but the debt to Boccalini would seem to be something 
much greater than a matter of mere story and incident. ‘The essay- 
ists have caught the spirit of the Italian. There is an extraordinary 
similarity not only between their objects but also between their 
methods. Boccalini couches “important politick affairs and choice 
moral precepts under metaphors and jesting tales,’ Addison en- 
livens ‘morality with wit’ and tempers ‘wit with morality.’ 
Hitherto the essay had admitted of little humour or satire, but here 
we find the same mischievous humour, playful satire and delicate 
irony as characterized the old Italian satirist. “If I have any other 
merit,’ writes Addison, ‘it is that I have new-pointed the batteries 
of ridicule. . . . If I have not formed a new weapon against vice 
and irreligion I have at least shown how that weapon may be put 
to right use.’ 

Finally, not only does the fantastic picturesqueness and illus- 
trative quality of the ‘ Ragguagli’ reappear in these essays, but its 
allegorical character would also seem to have impressed itself on the 
writings of this age. John Hughes in his ‘ Essay on Allegorical 
Poetry’ probably reflects the opinion of his day when he remarks 
that ‘ Boccalini must be reckoned one of the chief modern masters 
of allegory,’ and the impression created by the Italian’s work, as 
evidenced by the full translations of 1704 and 1706, would without 


TRAJANO BOCCALINI 89 


doubt account for the preponderating allegorical quality of the 
works of both Addison and Swift. 

But Swift also shows definite traces of our author. Perhaps it 
is in the ‘ Battle of the Books’ that Boccalinian influence is most 
apparent, for the work would appear to owe a great deal to the 
* Advertisements’ both in general conception and actual detail. 

The scene is the Italian’s organised Parnassus, and while Switft’s 
allegory in this particular work is perhaps more superficial, there is 
still the same mingling of ancients and moderns with a view to satir- 
izing contemporary critics and scholars. Much of the detail of the 
‘Ragguagh ’ is alsoincorporated. The guardian of the regal library, 
the quarrels for precedence, the consultations of the lrterati all 
find their counterpart in the earlier work, while the occasion itself, 
with its descriptions of the dispositions of the rival armies may well 
have been supplied by the advertisement which describes Apollo’s 
measures for the safety of his kingdom, when he learns that the 
ignorant have taken up arms against the learned.! 

The great allegories ‘The Tale of a Tub’ and ‘ Gulliver’s 
Travels’ also contain many isolated passages, remarkable for their 
resemblance to the ‘ Ragguagli.’ A significant example is ‘ The 
Epistle Dedicatory to Prince Posterity,’2 where the author has seized 
upon the motive of Apollo as arbiter on all literary productions and 
by a mere change of name and setting used it for satirizing the whole 
class of the writers of his day. Swift has merely substituted Prince 
Posterity for Apollo, with the result that the Eprséle recalls vividly 
the scene in Parnassus on Apollo’s reception day. In each case there 
is the royal arbiter, whose prerogative it is to grant immortality and 
to whom all literary productions have to be submittedifthis great gift 
be desired, and on each occasion also there are present the numerous 
petitioners for the laurel, ‘each accompanied by his comely volume.’ 
Even the tag of satirical comment appended to the names of those 
whom Swift ironically chooses as candidates is distinctly reminiscent 
of the manner in which Boccalini was wont to introduce the various 
aspirants into the presence of the great monarch of Parnassus. 

The descriptions of the various types of schools and academies 
found in the ‘ Preface’ to the ‘ Tale of a Tub’ and in the account of 
the Grand Academy of Lagado, with the ‘arts and the wild impossible 
chimaeras,’in whichthe professors employ themselves, also find their 

ieeCinkace Ie So: 

2. Cf. Hawkesworth : ‘ Life and Works of Swift’ 17 6. Vol. 1, 7. 


90 TRAJANO BOCCALINI 


counterpart in the many and various schools of Parnassus, which 
further serve the purpose of ridiculing the fantastic and useless 
studies of politicians, philosophers and virtuosz. 

But perhaps the most obvious example of this similarity 
in fiction is to be found in the account of Gulliver’s experiences in the 
island of Glubbdubdrib, the land of sorcerers and magicians, where 
at the governor’s behest on one occasion appear the eminent persons 
of all lands ‘from the beginning of the world to the present time.’ 

Alexander the Great, Hannibal, Caesar, Pompey and Brutus 
appear at the head of their armies ; Homer and Aristotle present 
themselves before him, followed by a vast number of their com- 
mentators, ‘ who usually kept in the most distant quarter from their 
principals, through a consciousness of shame and guilt, because they 
had so horribly misrepresented them to posterity.’ Gulliver even 
presents Didymus and Eustathius to Homer, and Scotus and Ramus 
to Aristotle, but the two mighty ancients soon discovered that they 
wanted a genius to enter into the spirit of a poet or philosopher. 
Swift next proceeds to describe the meeting of Descartes and 
Gassendi with Aristotle, and follows it up with an account of the 
great philosopher’s criticism upon their respective theories. He 
continues in this strain until finally ancients and moderns, politicians 
and warriors, kings and poets of all ages are assembled before him 
in an all-embracing satire. There can be no doubt, whatsoever, 
that Swift has here been directly inspired by the ‘ Raggeuagh dt 
Parnaso, tor he uses Boccalini’s fantastic conception to create 
a satire whichin general tenour and particular incident is remarkably 
close to that of his model. 

But it is not alone in numerous particular instances of this kind 
that Swiit displays his indebtedness to the Italian. He, also, has 
caught the Boccalinian atmosphere. In the ‘ Afology’ to ‘ The 
Tale of a Tul’ he tells us that he “ thought the numerous and gross 
corruptions in religion and learning might furnish matter for a satyr, 
that would be useful and diverting,’ and ‘that the world having 
been already too long nauseated with endless repetitions on every 
subject ’ he resolved to proceed ‘in a manner that should be alto- 
gether new ’ and so set forth these abuses in allegory. It would thus 
appear that Swift not only obtained many hints from his fiction 
from Boccalini, but that in the employment of sustained allegory, 
in his evident delight in the fantastic and grotesque and in his con- 
centration on humorous story as a means of satirizing the literatz, 


TRI EANO  BOCCALIUNT QL 


philosophers and politicians of his age, he also allowed himself to be 
inspired by the spirit of the “ Ragguagli,’ and it is this similarity in 
tone and atmosphere, which perhaps after all provides the most 
remarkable resemblance between the two authors. 


(c) Ets INFLUENCE ON LITERARY FORM. 


The ‘ Ragguagl ’’ however in the words of Spingarn seemed to 
create for the seventeenth century a new and fantastic world, which 
poets and princes, scholars and critics shared with Apollo and the 
Muses, and it was this setting even more than the bold and striking 
ideas for whichit was merely the occasion that impressed the imagin- 
ation of England. Thus the most striking aspect of Boccalini’s 
influence in England is that in which it is exerted on the form of both 
criticism and satire. 

Of its general influence upon form little more need be said 
than that the ‘ Ragguagli’ contributed a sprightly touch and a 
picturesque fanciful quality to criticism in prose and verse. Traces 
of its picturesque descriptions of the literary activities of Apvllo’s 
Parnassus tecur again and again in later seventeenth century writ- 
ings. ‘Thus the idea of Apollo’s supreme court for the trial of 
poetical offences is reflected in a considerable number of the critical 
works of this period.! 

Indisputable traces are seen—to mention but one remarkable 
instance —'in Blackmore’s ‘ Satyr Against Wit’ (1700), which 
Spingarn regards as worthy of inclusion in his Collection of Critical 
Essays as a curiosity of criticism. Blackmore represents the taste 
for wit as having seized like a madness upon both the unworthy 
subjects and open enemies of Apollo to the great danger of the 
Kingdom of Parnassus, and his description of the state of affairs 
provides ample opportunity for the introduction of Boccalinian 
touches. Hvidently inspired by the Italian’s idea of tribunals, 
councils, and proclamations in Parnassus, he breaks forth into an 
appeal to those of bis contemporaries, 

“Who in Parnassus have imperial sway 
Whom all the Muse’s subjects here obey,’ 
to exert their sovereign power and sit in judgment to regulate the 
grievance. 


1 Cf. Butler: “ Upon critics who judge of modern plays by the Rules 
of the Antients’ 1678, etc. 


92 TRAJANO BOCCALINI 


‘Set forth your Edict, let it be enjoyn’d 
That all defective species be recoyn’d 
St. Evremont and Rymer both are fit 
To over see the Coining of our wit. 
Let these be made the Masters of Essay 
They'll every piece of metal touch and weigh 
And tell which is tco light, which has too much allay.’ 
Boccalini’s account of the “Bank of Homer, Vergil, Livy and 
Tacitus ’ would also seem to have given rise to the lines, in which 
the author suggests the remedy for the evil : 
Let us erect a bank for wit and sense; 
A Bank whose current bills may payment make 
Till new-milled wit shall from the mint come back, etc. 

Similar reminiscences are numerous in current compositions 
and illustrate the hold that Boccalini’s onginal conception had 
obtained upon the writing community of this period. 

Dryden, however, in his ‘ Dedication of the Aineis‘ temarks 
that ‘one who imitates Boccalini’ hales Vergil before Apollo to 
accuse him of grave error of judgment in making A‘neas and Dido 
contemporaries, and describes how on this occasion, Apolle, to shield 
one of his favourite sons, pronounces sentence in favour of the poet. 
Here the author has seized upon the Parnassus framework and 
adapted it to affairs of contemporary interest and it is in such works 
that the most fruitful results of our author’s influence are displayed. 
In a short time after the introduction of the work into England, the 
Parnassus fiction became a frequent vehicle for the presentation of 
criticism and satire, not only of a literary but also of a political kind. 

“ Criticism,’ writes Spingarn, ‘ was still seeking an adequate 
medium ; Boccalini’s was one of the forms it tried and wearied of ; 
but the form continued to find a place even in the age of Addison 
and Swift.’1 The description of the activities of Apollo’s assembly 
certainly offered an excellent opportunity for criticism, but it also 
supplied wit and fancy with a golden opportunity to enliven 
critical utterances with personal and satirical remarks, and we thus 
find many of these imitations nothing more nor less than satire or 
panegyric. 

It is natural that the works that utilize Boccalini’s medium 
should also display frequent traces of the ‘ Ragguagli’ story, and 
it is not unusual to find much of the actual detail and incident of 


l “Cuitical Essays; Nol al. sox. 


TRAJANO BOCCALINI 93 


the original embodied in the imitation. Several even assume the 
precise form of a series of dispatches, with the result that they 
become extraordinarily close copies of the ‘ Advertisements.’ All, 
without exception, seize upon the idea of Apollo as monarch of 
Parnassus ; the realm is frequently peopled, as in the original, with 
the great figures of all ages, but generally the honour is confined to 
the author’s contemporaries, whose personal and literary character- 
istics are hit off in the process of their inclusion in the august assem- 
bly and in the accounts of their subsequent conduct. 

The majority, however, take the form of a single dispatch, 
which describes a special meeting convened by Apollo—as was often 
the case in Boccalini’s realm—for the purpose of considering impor- 
tant business, {frequently that of the appointment of an officer in his 
kingdom. Such appointments had been given great prominence 
in the Italian’s imaginary world, but in many cases the scope of the 
imitation is extended to include such scenes as dealt with the claims 
for admission or immortality, while in others Boccalini’s descriptions 
of arraignments, trials and banishments are also utilized. 

A collection of a number of these English ‘ Advertisements ’ 
may perhaps be permitted here. Speaking generally, they are 
sprightly, gay, even insolent compositions, but the judgments ut- 
tered by the subjects of Apollo and the pointed references to con- 
temporary authors not only shed valuable light on the critical 
standards of their age, but set forth the literary currents and feuds 
with such clearness, that they become precious documents in con- 
nection with the literary history of the seventeenth and eighteenth 
centuries. Their object is ever the same; Boccalini’s conception is a 
mould into which the authors of the day pour a mixture of criticism, 
personal allusion and satire. Their number, therefore, is a striking 
indication of the extent of Boccalini’s influence and a remarkable 
proof of the vitality and fertility of the literary form—the Sessions 
Day in Parnassus. 

1622. “News from Parnassus. The Politicall Touchstone, 
Laken from Mount Pernassus: Whereon the Governments of the 
Greatest Monarchies of the World are touched. Printed at Helicon 
162277 

This work, whereby the Parnassus notive was first introduced 
into English literature is a translation of part of ‘a Pietra del 
Paragone Politico’ trom the pen of Thomas Scott, a preacher who 


had united himself with Boccalini in a fanatical hatred against Spain. 
G 


94 TRAJANO BOCCALINI 


Owing to a political pamphlet, he had been obliged to flee from 
England to Utrecht, where his “ News’ was published in 1622 as 
‘these my present Advertisements from Parnassus.’ He had evi- 
dently been inspired by the sections of the ‘ Ragguagl1,’ which contain 
those sparkling satires against Spanish ambition, and the work, like 
the first translation of 1626, is intended as a warning against the 
conclusion of an alliance with that Catholic power. 

1626. ‘ The Golden Fleece, Divided into three Parts under which 
ave discovered the Evrours of Religion, the Vices and Decayes of the 
Kingdome and lastly the Wayes to get Wealth and to restore trading 
so much complained of. Transported from Cambrioll Colchos out 
of the southermost Part of the Iland commonly called Newfoundland. 
By Orpheus Junior 1626.’ 

The author, Sir William Vaughan, the translator of a consider- 
able portion of Boccalini’s work, has for his object the praise of 
Newfoundland, which is the ‘ golden fleece that shall restore the 
English nation to all worldly happiness.’ The first and second parts 
of the book, in which the author “ endeavours to remove the errours 
of Religion ’ and to discover ‘the decayes and vices of the King- 
dom ’ are merely preludes to his demonstration of the value of New- 
foundland to English trade and commerce. ‘To intermingle merry 
conceits and historical figments among serious and weighty matters 
of consequence, the author has resolved ‘to use the name of the 
great Apollo, not Heathenish, but Christian, after the example of 
Traiano Boccalini, who, under that title, brought forth most plausi- 
ble Ragguaglioes.’ He thus introduces Boccalini’s entire idea of the 
kingdom of Parnassus, adorns it with similar detail and makes the 
various sections of the work ‘ avisoes’ from Parnassus, with the 
result that it forms a kind of natural sequel to the ‘ Ragguagl1 ’ itself. 
An idea of its nature may be gleaned in the very first chapter, where- 
in the author describes Apollo’s joy on hearing of the great pleasure 
afforded to Prince Charles by Boccalini’s ‘ Ragguaglioes ’ and of the 
Prince’s new resolve to be governed by the laws, charters and pre- 
scriptions of Apollo’s court. In fine, the ‘ Golden Fleece’ unmis- 
takably reflects the influence of the ‘Ragguagli’ in spirit, form and 
style. Not only does Vaughan frequently refer to its witty and 
sagacious utterances and transfer bodily whole passages of its 
subject-matter, but also assigns to Boccalini a prominent place 
among such great figures of history as Martin Luther, John Wycliffe, 
Chaucer and Mariana, and on one occasion devotes a section to the 


— ROA oh Sei 


TRAJANO BOCCALINI 95 


description of the scene, when ‘Traiano Boccalini, the author of the 
“Newfound-Politick ’ complained to Apollo ‘that the seven wise 
men who were put in trust to reform the world’ had deceived his 
Majesty’s expectation ‘ and that the world was worse than ever it 
was.'! 

1637. ‘ A Session of the Wits’ by Sir John Suckling. Beg: ° A 
Session was held the other day.’ First published in ‘ I'ragmenta 
Aurea: A Collection of all the incomparable pieces written by Sur 
John Suckling. 1646.’ 

The occasion of this poem, the election by Apollo of a poet 
laureate, provides Suckling with an opportunity to hit off the 
characteristics of all the possible candidates in his own particular 
coterie. Among those, whom he represents as claimants are “ good 
old Ben’, Tom Carew, Will Davenant, Toby Matthews and Wat 
Mortague, each of whom as he puts forward his claim is subjected 
by the god to a stanza of critical comment. To the surprise of 
the company, however, Apollo after his review, observing that 
‘the best signe of 

Good store of wit’s to have good store of coyn’ 
bestows the coveted position upon an alderman. 

1639. ‘ The Most Pleasant Historie of Albino and Bellama, . . . 
to which 1s annexed the Vindication of Poesie (a poem) by N.W.’ 

_ The ‘ Vindication,’ written in free heroic couplet is an attack 
on the ‘ nil-scientes ’ and ‘ monsters of this critick age.’ 

The poet enters the court of Morpheus, a spacious darksome 
hall and is carried away by a messenger to ‘Where Jove was frolick- 
ing with his goddykin,’ where he hopes to see whole troops of laur- 
eates ensphered with bay. After Mercury has sprinkled his eyes with 
strength-giving liquid, which erables him to endure the presence of 
the immortal crew, he commences to record their proceedings. The 
Muses present their suits to Jupiter through Apollo, who, as their 
orator, had undertaken to shield them 

“from the sullen rage 
Of envious ignorance, this critick age.’ 

Thereupon, Hermes escorts the scoffers to the court of Jove, 
where they are charged with various poetical offences. One, des- 
cribed as ‘ an empty piece of plush ’ confesses that he rails at all true 
poets because he has no vein in poesie ; another, a divine, after some 
hesitation remarks that he scolds because he has no skill to reply to 


PCr Rag. 77, 


96 TRAJANO BOCCALINI 


attacks which are made upon him in verse. After several of these 
trials the poets’ ghosts are summoned from Elysium and now appear 
the usual ancient authors, accompanied by a host of moderns, 
among whom are ‘old Geffery,’ Sidney, Drayton and Drummond. — 
Having expressed their dissatisfaction with the criticism of the 
age, they deliver a long oration in praise of poets and poetry, at the 
close of which the assembly is broken up in amusing fashion. Jove, 
intendin g to ratify decrees in the behoof of poetry, gives the bards 
his hands to kiss and weaves chaplets of never-fading laurel for their 
brows. But Vulcan falls asleep, the gods laugh aloud and waken 
the author before he has heard the precious decree. 


1641. ‘ A Copy of a Letter sent from the roaring Boys in Elisium 
tio... Arrant Knights of the Grape. . . . Brought over lately by 
Quart Pot, an ancient servant to Bacchus. Whereunto 1s added an 
ovation which Bacchus made to his subjects in the lower World. 1641.’ 

The satirical and critical opportunities are clearly illustrated 
in the first portion of the poem. The author assembles a large 
number of the ‘ departed,’ who are treated in much the same manner 
as those mentioned in the following extract. — 


‘First came the poets of each land and took 
Their place in order; learned Virgil struck 

In for the first: Ben Jonson cast a glout, 

And swore a mighty oath he'd pluck him out 
And wallowing towards him with a cup of wine 
He did so rattle him with Catiline 

That had not Horace him appeased, ‘tis said 
He had thrown great Sejanus at his head.’ 


1645. ‘ The Great Assizes holden in Parnassus by A pollo and 
his Assessours.’ London 1645 (George Wither ?). 


The author indicts the malicious gazetteers of the day and 
arraigns them before Apollo’s throne. These new-pledged periodi- 
cals—Mercurius Britannicus, Mercurius Aulicus, The Poste, etc.,— 
are accused of perverting the truth, defiling literature, seducing 
readers from more serious books and disseminating poisonous 
doctrines. ‘The scholars of the Renaissance act as judges, the great 
English poets including Shakespeare, Massinger and Drayton as 
jury, Ben Jonson as keeper of the Trophonian Denne and John 
Taylor as crier of the court. Apollo, after a great conflict between 
justice and clemency metes out the punishment, but Aulicus and 


TRAJANO BOCCALINI 97 


Britannicus plead for mitigation and are reprieved, with the result 
that all the members of the court commend Apollo's mercy. 

1651. © Lhe Socratik Session, or the Conviction and Arraignment 
of Julius Scaliger.’ Samuel Sheppard. Epigrams 1651. 

The poem describes the trial of Scaliger before the sovereign 
court of Parnassus on account of his noisy onslaught on Homer. 
The Ancients, summoned by Apollo to a full session, are shown to 
their seats by Mercury, the crier of the court. Scaliger is placed 
at the bar by Nemesis and charged with treason and blasphemy. 
Although his plea of guilty mitigates the offence a different punish- 
ment is voted by each member of the court and Apollo finally con- 
demns him 

“where my piercing Rayes ne’re shoote ’ 
and where his punishment varies daily according to the sentence of 
the court. 3 
1656. ‘On The Time Poets’ (Choyce Drollery 1656). 
Begins ‘One night the great Apollo pleased with Ben 
Made the odd number of the muses ten ’ 
and continues with allusions to Shakespeare, May and others. 
Satitic hits are gained at the expense of Chapman, Dabourn and 
Ford and the piece finally winds up with a reference to Richard 
Brome, the disciple and imitator of Ben Jonson : 
“Sent by Ben Jonson as some authors say 
Broom went before and kindly swept the way.’ 

1664. ‘ The Session of the Poets to the tune of Cook Laurel.’ 
(Poems in Affairs of State. Sixth Edition. London 1710. Vol. 1. 206. 

Apollo once more summons a sessions to punish the abuses 
of wit and to elect a representative in his kingdom below. ‘The 
author reviews briefly the works of many contemporary writers. 
Davenant, Clifford, Fleckaoe, Cotton, Waller, Denham, ‘ Hudibras’ 
all contend for the bays, but Apollo 

‘Seeing a crowd in a tumult resort 

Well furnished with verses, but loaded with plays ’ 
adjourns the new court and leaves ‘ them together by the ears ’ for 
the honour. 

1676. ‘ A Trial of the Poets for the Bays in vmitation of a satyr 
in Boileau.’ Rochester.! (Chalmers : ‘ Lives of the Poets’ 1810. Vol. 
VII. 245.) 


1 Assigned to Rochester and Buckingham in ‘ Works of Buckingham’ 
Fourth Ed, 1721. 


98 TRAJANO BOCCALINI 


The qualification ‘in imitation of a satyr in Boileau’ is in- 
correct ; it was probably added by the publishers, who were un- 
doubtedly acquainted with Boileau’s ‘ hvagment d'un Dialogue,’ a 
frank imitation of Boccalini. The ‘ hvagment,’ however, was not 
only never published but never written down by its sensitive author, 
who did not wish to hurt the feelings of personal friends. Brosette, 
some time after the outline of the sprightly satire had been sketched 
for him, wrote it down from memory and included it for the first 
time in his edition of Boileau’s works (1716). 

The poet describes Apollo’s establishment of a government, 
leader and laws here upon earth. The claimants for the leadership 
include Dryden, Etheridge, Wycherley, Shadwell, Mrs. Behn, 
Tom Otway, etc., each of whom receives his or her quota of 
criticism and satire Amidst the customary amazement the prize 
finally falls to the lot of Tom Betterton, the actor. 

1680. ‘ News from Parnassus.’ | 

A periodical consisting of four numbers. January 27th— 
February 18th. 

The first number opens with the following intelligence : 

‘His imperial Majesty Apollo, lately taking into his princely 
consideration that little or no correspondence since the days of 
Signior Traiano Boccalini hath passed between this Empire and 
those of other potentates entered upon a council with his grand 
Virtuosi and Literati whether they should revive the correspond- 
ence. Don Francesco de Quevedo, one of his Majesty’s principal 
Secretaries of State was authorised to receive and remit intelligence.’ 

The four numbers are direct imitations of Boccalini’s 
‘ Ragguaglt’ in every respect. | 

1696. ‘ The Session of the Poets, holden at the foot of Parnassus 
Hill before Apollo, July the 9th, 1696.’ 

Describes the proceedings of a court, summoned to enquire 
into the misdemeanours of poets ‘ who have written several scanda- 
lous, impertinent and ridiculous plays, etc.’ The most interesting 
cases are those of Tom Brown and Tom Durfey. Brown is found 
‘not guilty ’ and acquitted, but Durfey is condemned to be ‘tossed 
up in a blanket.’ 

1700. ‘ A New Session of the Poets, occasioned by the death of 
Mr. Dryden. By a person of Honour 1700.’ 

All the ‘ airy sons of Fame ’ attend the convention, but the god 
before he takes his flight, decrees that 


TRAJANO BOCCALINI 99 


“Till some one can match the mighty dead 
The wreath remain on the de facto’s head.’ 

1719. ‘ The Election of a Poet Laureate in 1719.’ John Sheffeld, 
Duke of Buckingham. (Chalmers: Lives of the Poets. Vol. X. 
p. 98, 1810). 

The poet describes in very realistic fashion the appearance of 
the various aspirants for the laureateship, incidentally furnishing 
us with a splendid historical picture of the literary activities of the 
day. Critical comments are made on all contemporary literati from 
Pope, who is greeted with a smile from Apollo, to Sir Richard Black- 
more, who enters 

“With a huge mountain load of heroical lumber.’ 

The god, not yet satisfied, becomes perplexed and sighs for the en- 
trance of Swift, Lady Mary or even Tom Southerne ; but on espying 
one ‘a hater of verse and despiser of plays,’ he creates great excite- 
ment by presenting him with the bay. As the assembly is preparing . 
for departure, Eusden rushes in to the Council Chamber and claims 
the bays on account of his appointment to the laureate by the King. 
‘Apollo begged pardon and granted the claim 
But vowed though till then he ne’er heard of his name.’ 

1719. ‘ News from Parnassus’ (a poem). Dr, Delaney. 

‘The occasion is once again the appointment of a vice-gerent in 
Apollo’s kingdom and we find the usual number of claimants 
disputing over the appointment. The god however finds none 
wotthy of the position and proceeds to enumerate the great 
qualities of him to whom he would willingly have offered the laurel. 

The concluding couplet 

‘This said, the whole Audience soon found out his drift : 

The Convention was summon’d in favour of Swift.’ 
enlightens us immediately as to Delaney’s primary object. He 
uses Boccalini’s idea merely to sing the praises of Swift, of whom 
Apollo in his speech gives us an excellent literary sketch. 

1720. ‘ Apollo to the Dean.’ Jonathan Switt.! 

Swift’s object, like that of Delaney, is to record his appreciation 
of his friend’s work. ‘There is a slight variation from the usual 
setting in that the poem takes the form of an epistle written by 
Apollo to Swift. The god had intended to write a few verses on 
Swift as his friend and had locked his ‘ paper of hints ’ in his box at 
Parnassus ; but, in Apollo’s own words, ‘that traitor Delaney.’ 


J Ct. Chalmers: “Lives of Poets”: Switt. 


100 TRAJANO BOCCALINI 


‘in hopes to surpass us 
Conveys out my paper of fame be a trick; 
And from my own stock provided with topics 
Writes down my conceits and calls them his own.’ 
The literary characterization is skilfully continued by the author’s 
portrayal of Swift’s high estimation of the plagiarist. 
‘And you, like a cully, the bubble can swallow 
Now, who but Delaney that writes like Apollo? 
High treason by statute! but here you object, 
He only stole hints, but the verse is correct.’ 

1723. ‘ A Monthly Packet of Advice from Parnassus. London 
1723.’ ‘ Established by Apollo's express authority and sent to England 
with the learning, writings, politicks and manners of the age, ani- 
madverted upon by the illustrious society of the Literats there. Wauth 
an account of all the candidates for immortality just as they depart 
this world: with a modest calculation how long writings will live 
after the authors are dead.“ Boccalini is introduced and given a promi- 
nent position as Apollo’s secretary. 

1724. ‘ The Session of the Musicians.’ 

Owing to a scarcity of wits, contemporary musicians are sum- 
moned to appear before Apollo and to contend for the laurel, which 
is ultimately borne away by Handel. 

1730. ‘A New Session of the Poets for the year 1730.’ 

(Published in Gentleman's Magazine. Feb. 1731.) 

Treats the usual session theme with one modification. Apollo’s 
throne is usurped by the great goddess, Dulness, who decides to 
elect a laureate for her new-found kingdom. ‘Old Dennis’ as 
crier, John H-y as town clerk and Giles Jacob as recorder supervise 
the arrangements of the court. A number of candidates, among 
whom are Gay, Savage, Young and Pope are reviewed, but their 
works do not all agree with her standard. After some show of 
impatience, the goddess declares for her own son C—y and decrees 
that he be free to plunder all the great literati: of the past. As soon 
as the absent Apollo heard of the appointment, he, however, sent 
a protest and ‘ decreed from henceforward the place but a jest.’ 

1733. ‘The Legal Conviction of Alexander Pope’ (in The 
Mirrours or Letters Satyrical etc.) 

Pope, accused by John Ralphe of dulness and scandal in his 
‘ Dunciad, is haled before the judges of the High Court of Parnassus, 


TRAJANO BOCCALINI I01 


a somewhat prejudiced set of judges consisting of Dennis, Theobald 
and Hill, who sentence him to be banished from Mount Parnassus. 

1752. ‘ Proceedings at the Court of Apollo.’ 

‘The muses are summoned to Parnassus to inform Apollo of the 
state of genius here below. They lament the general political infamy, 
the only works worthy of presentation to Apollo being Mrs. Cibber’s 
‘Oracle’ and an ode by Sir George Lyttleton. On hearing this 
doleful account Apollo pronounces sentence. 

‘Since Britain stoops to smile in chains 
For ever leave her hateful plains ; 

And know where Stanhope’s not rever’d 
The Muses’ voice will ne’er be heard.’ 

1788. ‘A Trip to Parnassus: or the Judgment of Apollo on 
dramatic authors. Tondon 1788.’ 

Apollo, having received complaints from Thalia, summons the 
dramatists and actors of the period in order that he may declare 

‘What genius he’d honour, what favourites own.’ 

As they advance toward his throne, they are received by the god 


‘with the usual Censure, praise or advice, distributedimpartially and 


according to merit. 

1811. ‘ The Feast of the Poets.’ Weigh Hunt. (Poetical Works 
1860). 

On this occasion Apollo determines to hold a feast. He has no 
sooner ordered the fare than a large number of contemporary poets 
enter the banquet-chamber. Rogers, Keats, Shelley, Coleridge, 
Wordsworth, etc., have only just arrived when the assembly is 
disturbed by a mob ot meaner spirits. The god in his wrath clothes 
himself with his native glory and thus puts the rabble to rout. On 
their departure he once more becomes gentle, raises the poets 
stricken by his glory, feasts them and finally crowns them as his 
chosen representatives. 

1837. ‘The Feasts of the Violets. Weigh Hunt. (Poetical 
Works 1860). 

A similar assembly of poetesses, among whom are found Mrs. 
Adams, Mrs. Austin, Madame D’Arblay, Miss Baillie, Lady Blessing- 
ton, Fanny Butler, etc. 


The above imitations are merely a selection from a large number 
of works, which use the Parnassus vehicle. Leigh Hunt in the 


Preface to ‘ The least of the Poets’ remarks ‘ that like most of the 
H 


102 TRAJANO BOCCALINI 


poetical inventions of modern times, the idea of Apollo holding 
sessions and elections is of Italian origin ’ and there can be no doubt 
that it was the proseman Boccalini who gave European prestige to 
this form. In 1622, nine years after his death there appeared the 
first translation of a section of his writings, and a century later | 
in the remarkably close imitation of 1723, he is still assigned the most 
prominent position in the kingdom, which he instituted. During 
the intervening period and for many years afterward his original 
judgments and apt pithy utterances are freely quoted by English 
authors, while his Parnassus conception survives as a very frequently 
used medium for the presentation of criticism and satire. When we 
consider also his influence on the great prose writers of the early 
eighteenth century and his general contribution of a picturesque, 
fanciful and sprightly quality to both prose and verse, it becomes 
clear that the name of Trajano Boccalini deserves to be remem- 
bered among those of the great continental writers who have not 
been without their influence upon English literature. 


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He ts : Hees 4 Ky (HIN AT 4 i 
is oe Mitts cist RUE nt a Feo ae | 
t pA i+ ead ar se dies ay | Ms dae x a 

: oa .4 : . i 


BY 


MEMBERS OF THE UNIVERSITY 
COLLEGE OF WALES 


Vor. IV 


A SPECIAL VOLUME PUBLISHED 
TO CELEBRATE THE JUBILEE 
OF THE COLLEGE 


PRICE SIX SHILLINGS NETT 


PUBLISHED BY THE UNIVERSITY OF WALES 
PRESS BOARD ON BEHALF OF THE COLLEGE 
1922 


UNIVERSITY COLLEGE OF WALES 
ABERYSTWYTH 
Vol. IV 


ABERYSTWYTH STUDIES 
JUBILEE VOLUME 


3 ee 
piper 
heel 


a 


biti: 


ABERYSTWYTH STUDIES 


BY 


MEMBERS OF THE UNIVERSITY 
COLLEGE OF WALES 


VOL. IV 


A SPECIAL VOLUME PUBLISHED 
TO CELEBRATE THE JUBILEE 
OF THE COLLEGE 


PUBLISHED BY THE UNIVERSITY\OF WALES 
PRESS BOARD ON BEHALF OF THE COLLEGE 
1922 


ees 
Pen: 


PREFATORY NOTE 


Tuis, the fourth volume of the Aberystwyth Studies, is intended 
as a contribution to the celebration which takes place this year, 
on the completion of the fiftieth year since the founding of the 
College. 

For the material of the volume the members of the teaching 
staff are mainly responsible, though it also includes articles from 
certain distinguished scholars who, during the present session. 
have lectured within these walls. An effort has thus been made 
to make the work as representative as possible: illustrative 
also of the intellectual interests and activities of the College 
to-day. 

As for the articles themselves, they are necessarily brief : 
but it is hoped that they will be found to contain some matters 
of interest and to be not altogether unworthy of the College or 
the occasion. It is, however, as a series of experiments that the 
contributors for the most part would have their work regarded. 
At the opening of a new period in the College history it is perhaps 
pardonable to look forward to renewed activities, more particu- 
larly in the field of research: and success in that field comes 
only with experiment. For it is undoubtedly true of work of 
this kind, that it is only in doing that we learn how to do; and 
this, if apology be needed, must be the apology for this volume. 


_ UNIVERSITY COLLEGE OF WALES, 
ABERYSTWYTH, 
October, 1922. 


en 
ee ore 
eee 


(Lasse 


i 
3 


10. 


11. 


CONTENTS 


(a) Philology, History, Archeology, Folklore 


. PAGAN REVIVALISM UNDER THE ROMAN EMPIRE. 


By Srrz Wiriiam M. Ramsay, F.B.A., D.C.L., LL.D., Litt.D., 
Special Lecturer for 1922 . 


. THE BRONZE AGE IN WALES. By Haroip PEAKE, 


F.S.A., Special Lecturer for 1922 


. DIONYSIACA. By H. J. Ross, M.A., Professor of Latin 
. THE CLAUSULAE OF AESCHINES. By R. A. Pops, M.A., 


Assistant Lecturer in Classics 


. FURTHER NOTES ON THE FAMILIAR LETTERS OF 


JAMES HOWELL. By Epwarp BeEnsty, M.A., Special 
Lecturer in Medieval and Renaissance Latin Literature 


. FURTHER NOTES ON ‘THE OWL AND THE NIGHTIN- 


GALE.’ By J. W.H. Atkins, M.A., Rendel Professor of 
English Language and Literature 


. THE ARTHURIAN EMPIRE IN THE ELIZABETHAN 


POETS. By Litian Winstan ey, M.A., Lecturer in English 
Language and Literature : : ‘ 


. A NOTH ON A PASSAGE IN ‘BEOWULF.’ By G.N. 


Garmonsway, B.A., Assistant Lecturer in English 
Language and Literature 7 


. WELSH WORDS FROM PEMBROKESHIRE. By  T. 


STANLEY Roserts, M.A., Professor of Colonial History 


AN ENGLISH FLEXIONAL ENDING IN WELSH. By 
T. H. Parry-Wiuiams, M.A., B.Litt., Ph.D., Professor of 
Welsh 


A ‘COURT OF LOVE’ POEM IN WELSH. By T. 
Gwynn Jones, M.A., Professor of Welsh Literature . 


vil 


PAGE 


39 


49 


59 


67 


69 


85 


Vili CONTENTS 


PAGE 


12, THE EVOLUTION OF THE WELSH HOME. By Timorsy 
Lewis, M.A., Reader in Celtic Philology and Paleography . 97 


13. A WASHER AT THE FORD. By Gwenan Jonss, M.A., 
Ph.D., Assistant Lecturer in Education . ; Figeel 05 


14. AN OUTLINE STORY OF OUR NEIGHBOURHOOD. 
By H. J. Fuieure, D.Se., Professor of Geography and 
-Anthropology : : : Dae ie : eee lia 


(b) Economics, Philosophy, Law, Education 


1. SOME NOTES ON THE INDUSTRIAL REVOLUTION IN 
SOUTH WALES. By J. Morcan Ress, M.A., Lecturer 
in Economics and Political Science . ‘ : Z see LAr 


2. INDUSTRIAL TRAINING IN SOUTH WALES. By W. 
Kina, M.A., Assistant Lecturer in Economics and Political 
Science : ; ; : =f 5 J : ooo 


3. CONDUCT AND THE EXPERIENCE OF VALUE. By 
L. A. Ret, M.A., Assistant Lecturer in Logic and Philosophy 145 


4. SOME SOURCES OF THE ENGLISH TRIAL. By T. A. 
Levi, M.A., B.C.L., LU.B., Professor of English Law . ee 


A RENASCENCE PIONEER OF WOMEN’S EDUCATION. 
By Foster Watson, M.A., D.Litt., Professor Emeritus of 
Education . ; : ‘ . ; : ‘ eo 15D 


On 


6. INSTRUCTION IN RELIGION. By C. R. CHappriez, M.A., 
Professor of Education . : 2 : ; ; pene dia 


7. A NEW DOCUMENT BEARING ON THE WELSH 
EDUCATION COMMISSION OF 1846-7. By F. Smrra, 
M.A., B.Se., Lecturer in Education . : ike 5 lis 


(c) Mathematics and Physical Sciences 


1 ON STOKES’S FORMULA AND THE MAXWELL- 
LORENTZ EQUATIONS. By W. H. Youne, S&c.D., 
M.A., F.R.S., Professor of Pure Mathematics . : ESE 


2. RECENT INVESTIGATIONS OF THE SCATTERING OF 
X- AND y-RAYS. By G. A. Scuort, B.A., D.Sc., F.R.S., 
Professor of Applied Mathematics . 2 5 3 val > 


CONTENTS 


1x 


PAGE 


. THE ADDITION OF HYDROGEN TO ACETYLENIC 
ACIDS. By the late D. Emrys Wri11ams, B.Sc., Assistant 
Lecturer in Chemistry, and T. C. Jamzs, M.A., D.Sc., Professor 
of Chemistry . 


. THE ACTION OF REDUCING AGENTS ON SOME 
POLYNITRODIPHENYLAMINES. ByN.M. CuLiiane, 
M.Sc., Assistant Lecturer in Chemistry, and T. C. JAMES 


. SOME REACTIONS OF TETRANITROANILINE. By C. 
W. Davies, B.Sc., Assistant Lecturer in Chemistry, and 
T. C. JAMES. ‘ : ; ‘ ‘ : ‘ : 


(d) Natural Science 


. THE ORIGIN OF THE SEED-PLANTS (SPERMOPHYTA). 
By D. H. Scort, LL.D., D.Sc., F.R.S., Special Lecturer for 
1922 


. INVESTIGATIONS INTO THE FAUNA OF THE SEA FLOOR 
OF CARDIGAN BAY. By R. Doveuas Lauriz, M.A., 
Professor of Zoology, and E. Emrys WATKIN, B.Sc., Research 
Student in Zoology 


. THE FAUNA OF THE CLARACH STREAM (CARDIGAN- 
SHIRE) AND ITS TRIBUTARIES. By KatTsHiuEEen 
E. CARPENTER, B.Sc., Assistant Lecturer in Zoology 


. ADDITIONS TO THE MARINE FAUNA OF ABERYSTWYTH 
AND DISTRICT. By Este Horsman, M.Sce., Fisheries 
Naturalist in the Department of Zoology 


. THE BRYOPHYTA OF ARCTIC-ALPINE ASSOCIATIONS 
IN WALES. ByC. V. B, Marquanp, M.A., of the Plant 
Breeding Station for Wales 


197 


209 


213 


219 


229 


251 


259 


269 


oe 


LOLOGY, HISTORY, ARCHZOLOGY, 
 HOMKIORE 


1 PAGAN REVIVALISM UNDER THE ROMAN 
EMPIRE 


Tue following paper! adds some evidence bearing on a subject in 
which I have been deeply interested for many years, the marked 
revival of paganism during the late third and early fourth cen- 
tury in opposition to the growing power of Christianity, and 
the ‘revivalistic ’ methods that were employed to rouse belief, 
enthusiasm, and patriotism among the pagan minority. The 
‘revivalism ’ failed, because it was artificial and official, and 
never touched the heart of the people, but was actively engineered 
by the government. This final struggle is usually known as 
the persecutions of Diocletian and of Maximin II. The hold 
of the new faith on the Empire was not destroyed or even 
weakened in that time of stress. The Christians were too 
numerous; but much harm was wrought to their spirit of toler- 
ance and liberality; bigotry was encouraged to a dangerous 
degree. The whole world, and not merely the massacring 
power, suffers in persecution. (Cities and Bishoprics of Phrygia, 
Ch. XII, at the end.) 

That the Christian power in the Empire was very great is 
shown not merely by aetual statements of ancient authorities, 
but by the fact that a far-seeing and prudent statesman like 
Constantine chose the Christian side in his struggle for power, 
and his success made permanent the triumph of the new faith. 
His motives doubtless were mixed; he was a Christian so far 

1 The inscription formed part of the Report which my daughter, 
Miss A. M. Ramsay, sent in to the Trustees of the Wilson Travelling 
Fellowship at Aberdeen. This Report was intended to be published long 
ago, but pressure of work prevented quick progress. Then came the 
overwhelming events of the years 1914-1922; it was hard to immerse 
oneself in antiquarian details. She permits me to publish this Inscription, 
which is one of the quaintest memorials of pagan ‘ revivalism,’ in order 
that I may incorporate some of the outstanding facts which have since 
been learned with regard to this subject. Other parts of her report are 
in progress of publication elsewhere. 

A.S.—VOL. IV. 1 =. 


2 PAGAN REVIVALISM UNDER THE ROMAN EMPIRE 


as considerations of empire permitted; but, if the pagan had 
been the winning side, he would in all probability have acted 
prudently and accommodated himself to the situation. Con 
stantine had wide opportunities of judging. He was brought 
up as a hostage at the court of Diocletian in Nicomedia, 
and Christianity was strongest in the Eastern Provinces, 
but he succeeded to his father’s imperial authority in the 
West. 

Formerly I was under the impression that this ‘‘revivalism,” 
coupled with a close alliance between the imperial power and 
the influence of the priests at the sanctuaries, and with a 
tendency to imitate Christian rites and to show that all these 
things could be done better by pagans than by Christians, was 
a phenomenon peculiar to the period about a.p. 300-315. 
Then it became clear from epigraphic 1 remains that already in 
A.D. 250 it was a feature, less pronounced indeed but still a 
distinct feature, of the Decian persecution. It has, for example, 
become possible to trace the history of a Phrygian priestly 
family by dated inscriptions in the period a.p. 250-312, to 
observe how influential this priestly family must have been,? 
and to study its methods, which included an addiction to what 
the educated ancients condemned as ‘astronomy,’ and which 
we in modern times stigmatise as ‘ astrology.’ 

It is now necessary to date still farther back the first employ- 
ment of this policy and these religious phenomena. It was 
really a necessary result of the identification of the Emperor 
with the local god and of the Empress with the local goddess. 
Augustus had made this ‘Imperial Religion’ the keystone of 
the imperial organisation in the provinces. Domitian pressed 
to the utmost this religious factor, and indubitably his anti- 
Christian severity means that it was part of the settled Flavian 
policy to regard the rising Christian power as an enemy of the 
imperial religion and power. His acta were not confirmed after 
his death; and if his anti-Christian policy had been peculiar 
to himself, it would not have remained valid after 96 a.p. Trajan 
reviewed the question of the attitude of the imperial policy 
towards this new faith ; and confirmed it evidently on the ground 


1 Pauline and other Studies in the History of Religion, pp. 103-122. 


2 C. B. Phryg., Ul, p. 566 ff., Rév. des Ht. Anc., III (1901), p. 275, where 
my reading t/a’ is corrected by M. Chapot to 1/6’, A.D. 249-50. 


PAGAN REVIVALISM UNDER THE ROMAN EMPIRE 3 


that the Empire had taken its stand on the settled Flavian policy, 
inherited by Domitian.! This settled Flavian policy was merely 
a recognition of the innate hostility of the Empire to the new 
religion, and of the new religion to the Imperial. 

Trajan in writing to Pliny about a.p. 112 accepts it as the 
fixed principle of the imperial system that the Christians 
were setting up an anti-imperial unity, which could not be 
tolerated ; they were therefore traitors and criminals who 
should be executed forthwith on acknowledgment of their fault 
unless they recanted and proved the sincerity of their recanta- 
tion by religious acts such as no true Christian would perform, 
viz., offering to the Emperor. Trajan, indeed, did not like the 
principle. He had no interest in being called a god, and he 
warned Pliny that, although this was the policy of the Empire, 
yet it was not to be pressed. No inquisition was to be made 
into the opinions of individuals, but if any person made himself 
prominent and evident by overt action, he should be arrested 
and allowed full opportunity to deny and recant, but in persistent 
acknowledgment must be sent to execution. 

Hadrian confirmed the principle in the same half-hearted 
way as Trajan; but he regarded the divine identification very 
- much as a joke, useful only for the maintenance of government 
over an uneducated and superstitious mob. We may in fact 
say that it had been invented or tolerated? by the Emperor 
Augustus for much the same reason, except that Augustus saw 
no joke, but acted in serious deadly earnest. Hadrian saw the 
joke, and he also was amused when those solemn Christians 


1 Ts this policy already fixed before the Flavian period ? The time 
of Galba, Otho, and Vitellius was too short and troubled for the establish- 
ment of any permanent imperial attitude. Moreover, Otho and Vitellius 
were usurpers. Some respected scholars have maintained that Nero 
inaugurated and fixed the imperial condemnation of the new faith. They 
forget that Nero’s acta were condemned and his memory erased. Nothing 
could be fixed permanently by him binding on the Empire and its policy : 
especially his latest acts were swept away in a storm of popular hatred. 
Nothing Neronian remained valid or constituted a precedent. Mommsen 
argued that the Empire was in its nature opposed to Christianity. That 
is true, but the question remains at what date and under what Emperor 
the opposition was recognized. Certainly not under the earlier emperors, 
nor under Nero in the earlier part of his reign. 

2 It was really an invention of the Eastern races, a Roman inheritance 
or adaptation from the times of the Seleucids and other half-Greek kings 
of the East, who had adopted it from the older West Asian kings. 


4 PAGAN REVIVALISM UNDER THE ROMAN EMPIRE 


seriously opposed and denied the joke. ‘If they only had a 


little humour’: such was his point of view; and it did not. 


stimulate him to active persecution. 

Yet even Hadrian and doubtless Trajan countenanced and 
encouraged as a support of the Empire the increasing splendour 
and elaboration of the official religion and the official ritual. 
Magnificent shows, dazzling to the popular senses, accompanied 
the celebration of the imperial ritual. So much was well known ; 
but it is, as I think, a fact hitherto unknown that under Hadrian, 
if not earlier, the imperial ritual was a ‘ Mystery.’ It was 


enacted in conjunction with the native religion in each locality. — 


Anything that deserves to be called ‘religion’ in the pagan 
imperialism was “ Mysterion.’ The various Mysteries in different 
parts of the Eastern Provinces had some general resemblance 
in type, and they were enlarged at each religious centre by 
incorporation of ritual from other localities. Nothing was 
omitted ; and thus the Imperial ritual grew longer and more 
elaborate, and, to obviate the danger of tedium, was made 
more splendid to the senses. _ ) 

If we knew more fully the history of this Imperial ritual, 
we should certainly find that it appealed more and more to 
the lower nature of the people. The principle which was practi- 
cally carried out seems to have been that there was always 
room at the bottom for something uglier and morally more 
detestable in the appeal to the popular taste. The Imperial 
religion corrupted the people, and did so deliberately in order 
to encourage loyalty among the vulgar. 

The pressure of Imperial needs and the growing strength 
of the new faith, especially in the Eastern provinces generally, 
and particularly in the central Anatolian provinces (above all 
in Phrygia and Lycaonia !) seemed to the Emperors succeeding 
who really aimed at strengthening the Empire and not at mere 
personal enjoyment, to require that that fundamental principle 
of the Imperial Empire should be carried into effect more 
thoroughly than Trajan permitted. It was becoming necessary 
for the maintenance of the Imperial unity that the rival Christian 
unity should be extirpated. Hence it was in a way the best 
Emperors, 7.e. those who were most desirous of doing their 
duty to the Empire, that insisted most on the anti-Christian 
principle, while the careless Emperors like Commodus were not 

1 The first Pauline Churches, always dear to Paul as the first. 


PAGAN REVIVALISM UNDER THE ROMAN EMPIRE 5 


inclmed to take vigorous action either in this or in any other 
unselfish or patriotic (!) direction. 

It was to the least educated classes that the alliance of Empire 
and paganism appealed. The middle class, the working and 
thinking class, was the soil of Christianity ; and during the first 
century the new faith found strong support among the Roman 
nobility and even in the family and household of the Emperors. 

The power given to the Emperors by the vast imperial estates 
and their cultivators was utilized. We see that in Asia Minor 
the people on several of those huge estates were formed into anti- 
Christian and loyal societies, and a tendency to ‘revivalism’ 
was encouraged in this appeal to a very uneducated class. The 
inscription here published takes us into the midst of this move- 
ment. 

About six hours north of Konia, the ancient Iconium, and 
about three hours south of Lycaonian Laodiceia, there was 
situated one of the great Anatolian religious centres, controlling 
by a sort of theocratic dispensation the population of a consider- 
able territory of hill country and plain. It was called in ancient 
times Zizima, and still retains the ancient name as Sizma._ This 
locality among the Orondian hills was marked out as sacred by 
the gifts which the goddess who revealed herself here gave to 
all her willmg and obedient people: the gifts were great mines 
of cinnabar, which the ancients worked till almost exhausted, 
and also, as I am informed by Mr. Edwin Whittall, mines of 
copper now wholly exhausted. The riches that lay under the 
surface of the earth was the property of the Mother-Earth 
goddess. It was part of herself, and she gave herself to her 
own people. But the condition in this covenant was that her 
children should keep her laws, and they were punished, if they 
disobeyed, by fever and otherwise.! The goddess of Zizima is 
mentioned in inscriptions (the first of which was discovered 
in 1882 in the work of the Asia Minor Exploration Fund). She 
is usually nameless, called only the Zizimene Mother, though 
doubtless in the progress of Hellenisation she was identified 
sometimes with one, sometimes with another, of the Greek 
goddesses who were in some point of character analogous to 
her. The estates which belonged to the god and the goddess 


1 Many ‘Confessions’ by sinners who suffered, together with warning 
to others against disobedience, are preserved in East Lydia, especially 
.at Satala (Sandal), and in Phrygia at Dionysopolis. 


6 PAGAN REVIVALISM UNDER THE ROMAN EMPIRE 


at those Anatolian sanctuaries, usually the very finest part of 
the land, came ultimately under the Roman rule to be Imperial 
estates. The mines in which the goddess gave her riches to 
her children, whether metals, or marble, or other minerals, also 
the land, became the property of the reigning Emperor. Accord- 
ing to the Imperial religion, since the Emperor was identified 
with the god of each district, the property of the god became 
the property of his manifest representative on earth. In the 
Classical Review, 1905, p. 370 f., it is inferred from the consider- 
able number of Imperial slaves and freedmen mentioned in the 
inscriptions in the neighbourhood of Sizma that the land here 
was an Imperial estate. Now the proof that any great Anatolian 
estate was Imperial property is practically sufficient to prove 
that it was previously an estate of the god, and vice versa ; 
and that principle has been carried out in the review of various 
large Imperial Properties given in H.G.A.M., p. 173 ff., and in 
Maspero’s fécuei, vol. xiv, p. 3 ff.1 
_ The form of dedication to the Imperial god is everywhere in 
Anatolia the same, ‘ On behalf of the salvation of the Emperor 
and of the people on the estate, certain persons or person made 
a dedication.’ 2 
The people on an estate were not strictly free. They had 
been previously the servants of the god acting through his 
priests, and they became the servants of the Emperor when 
the estates passed into his hands. The old form and the old 
thought were preserved under the Emperor. The people on 
the estate regarded themselves practically as the slaves of the 
Emperor. Gradually the custom of the Empire and ultimately 
the Roman Law (in a.p. 415) came to look upon the owner 
of the estate as having a right to the labour of its people. In 
this condition they were practically serfs. Those Asiatic peoples, 
as a rule, preferred slavery to freedom, in the Roman expression. 
as quoted by Strabo,? and the custom of the estates was taken 
up by the provincial Assemblies in which the representatives 
of a whole province met to declare their loyalty and faithfulness 
to the Empire under religious forms. It is now possible by 


1 See also J.H.S., 1918, p. 131 ff. ; also Studies in the History and Art 
_ of the Eastern Provinces, pp. 319, 329, ete. 

2 The people of the estate are often omitted; in many cases they, 
as a body, were the dedicators, being enrolled in a religious association 
worshipping the imperial lord. 3 XT. 2; JA, ps 540: 


— 


PAGAN REVIVALISM UNDER THE ROMAN EMPIRE 7 


correct restoration of an inscription published by Domaszewski! 
to say that at least as early as the reign of Trajan, the delegates 
of the province Galatia, assembling as the Koinon of the Galatians, 
prayed for the Imperial salvation as their first object. They 
were the servants of the Imperial god and record their willing 
acceptance of this relation to him. 

In the records of that Meeting of the Koinon in a.p. 101, 
on the sacred day, the ninth before the Kalends of October, 
the birthday of the founder, Augustus, the names of all the 
delegates from the province are appended to a dedication on 
behalf of the Imperial salvation. Such a record has a general 
similarity to the records of Meetings of the Christian Councils, 
where the business of each sitting was authenticated by the 
signatures of all the Bishops who were present. It appears 
probable that the records of the Koinon were written on paper, 
and copied in the more permanent form on stone (as we know 
them). The signatures of the Nicene Council were afterwards 
classified according to provinces.? 

This is only one of the many resemblances in organisation 
between the universal Empire and the universal Church. It 
used to be and perhaps still is held or assumed by many that 
these analogies were due to deliberate imitation. by the Church 
of the imperial organisation. It has, however, always been 
my own view that in origin these resemblances were due not 
to any conscious imitation, but to the fact that during the first 
three centuries these ideas were in the air, that any organisation 
which was being constructed to be world-wide must inevitably 
at that time accept the ideas of the time. In the later stage, 
about 300 after Christ, it is absolutely clear that the neopagan 
“revivalism ’ was consciously and intentionally imitating the 


1 Incorrectly restored, A.H.M.O., 1885, p. 119, and in J.G.R.R., III, 
No. 162; read [[aiatayv to Kowdy tnéo owtnoias]. 

2 The Arabic version of the Acta alone has preserved the original 
arrangement, and it alone has 318 names, the correct number. In all 
other versions of the Acta, where the arrangement by provinces has 
been adopted, the number of names is much smaller (in one Greek MS. 
little more than half). The 318 Fathers passed into history, into invoca- 
tion, and even into popular curses (the surest sign of antiquity and cer- 
tainty): on the causes of this diminution see J.R.S., 1917, p. 281, where 
the inferences are drawn from Prof. C. H. Turner’s admirable edition 
of the various Latin texts. An intermediary between the Arabic version, 
almost unintelligible in its presentation of proper names, and the original 
Greek or Latin, is a desideratum. 


8 PAGAN REVIVALISM UNDER THE ROMAN EMPIRE 


forms of the Catholic Church. In one case at least the words 
of the Fourth Gospel are quoted and the ideas taken from the 
Church are expressed in an inscription of the highest importance, 
dated a.p. 313-14 (C. B. Phr., Ul, p. 566). This inscription is 
perhaps the most important of all bearing on the subject, and 
it was among the first to be found and published (in J.H.S., 
IV, p. 419). Many other inscriptions since found elucidate 
and explain this fundamental inscription, but except in the 
Musée of the Belgian Academy at Brussels, I have hardly noticed 
any reference to it. Another inscription of the highest conse- 
quence, but two centuries earlier in date, was published by Domas- 
zewski in A.H.M.O., 1895, p. 130, No. 98, from an incomplete 
copy which was given to him by a native of Angora, and is 
repeated from him in 1.G.R.Rf., III, No. 209. We can gather a 
great deal from this fragment, which was too long and tedious 
for the native copyist to complete. It is clear that at least in 
Hadrian’s reconstruction of the imperial and world-wide associa- 
tion of Dionysiac artists, if not earlier, there was a religious 
ceremony which formed part of the celebrations held by the 
artists sometimes in one city and sometimes in another. ‘This 
religious ceremony was called ‘ Mysterion’; and in the first 
celebration at Angora the celebrants, athletes, artists, etc., 
understood that the meeting was now at an end, when the religious 
mystic part of the ceremonial was finished, and were about 
to depart,! but they were persuaded by Ulpius Aelius Pompei- 
anus, with some difficulty and personal expense, to remain and 
complete the secular part of the celebration, including the games 
with the prizes. It is obvious that in a gathering like this, 
the ‘Mysterion,’ 7.e. the religious element, was extremely 
important, and was actually taken by many persons as the whole. 
The date of this fragment must be about 128-131, after the 
re-organisation of the association by Hadrian. A complete copy 
is a desideratum. 

The altar on which the Sizma dedication was engraved 
forms one of the ornamental ends of the parapet of the new 


1 This misunderstanding evidently implies that there was something 
novel.in the celebration, in other words it was the first celebration after 
the re-organisation by Hadrian with greatly increased splendour. As 
soon as the artists heard that there was to be more ceremonial 
and that there were to be prizes as the reward for success, they gladly 
returned. 


PAGAN REVIVALISM UNDER THE ROMAN EMPIRE 9 


bridge at Sizma and has been trimmed by the modern mason 
(who, unfortunately, had artistic aims without artistic training 
or archeological veneration). In the process of beautifying the 
stone he chipped off the first line, perhaps two lines, and the 
initial and final letters of all the rest. I copied the inscription 
in 1905, and again my daughter and I re-copied it in 1909. The 
most difficult place is the end of line 2, where an oblique fracture 
running down from left to right breaks the two letters following 


i 1 Aca hea en Gin 7 
Ne BNE HOC CCL GO 
ACs Go eo 


omega. My MS. copy, 1905, shows that a broken ‘K’ is the 
probable reading of the letter immediately following omega ; 
but I misinterpreted this as “N’ in the Classical Review, loc. cit., 
p. 370. In 1909 we both thought that the text was as above, 
mutilated “K’ followed by a mutilated °C’. Mr. Calder’s very 
careful re-examination of the stone in 1910, when he was aware 
of the doubt and of our reading, confirms our reading as given 
above; but he thinks “K’ cannot be restored, and only ‘I’ can 


10 PAGAN REVIVALISM UNDER THE ROMAN EMPIRE 


be allowed. Adopting his ingenious restoration of the last word 
in 2, we have a prayer for the Lord and the demos, 
[dméo Gwtnoias tov xveiov xé] 

1... éwv Ojpuov Atos peyiotolv 

2 “Ohvraiov *Ivm Avovicws [evar- 

3 t\|ytw Htacg Aovtoocs Kale- ? 

4 ixol0 oixovopov véov 
The construction of the inscription is quite clear: there seems 
little doubt that the village of the ... reis was also the 
“sacred village of Zeus, Greatest and Olympian.’ It was 
common that the holy villages at these great priestly centres 
should be called by the name of one of the deities worshipped 
there, as, for example, Atyokhorion, Atyokome, Menokome, etc..,. 
also Phyle Dios at Amorium and many similar. 

The strange name, Iuo, which is applied to Dionysos is 
illustrated by another dedication emanating from among the 
people of this theocratic region. It is in the wall of the mosque 
at Serai-Unu, four miles north of Laodicea. I had several times 
attempted to read the dedication, which is extremely rude, but 
the name of the god eluded me. It was only in 1911 that Calder 
detected the meaning of the rude forms, and as soon as he pointed 
this out, the name was perfectly clear, VOH OPONAIQ eiyjy.# 
The dedication is Jovi Orondei, i.e. Jehovah Orondei.2, The Hebrew 
name was often employed in later paganism, especially after 
Alexander Severus thought seriously of forming a Pantheum 
which should include a statue of Christ, so as to make it 
possible for Christians to adopt the State religion. 

Professor F. Cumont in the Musée Belge, 1910, p. 55 ff., 
‘A propos du Sabazius et du Judaisme,’ pointed out that there 
was an old superstition identifying the Hebrew [ahve Sabaoth 
with the Phrygian lovem Sabazium. The superstitious Roman 
Jew whom Juvenal describes as fearing the Sabbaths metuens 
Sabbata, had some vague idea already in the first century of 
the resemblance and possible identity between the Phrygian 
and the Hebrew god. 

The epithet, Orondian, points conclusively to the centre 
where this worship of Uoe was situated. The Orondian mountain 
country is indubitably the hill country which lies between Ico-_ 
nium East, Laodicea North and the plain east of the great lake 


1 Calder, J:H.S., 1911, p. 195. 
2 Compare Anatolian Hués. 


PAGAN REVIVALISM UNDER-THE ROMAN EMPIRE l11 


Karalis West; and the divine power of the mountain country 
and of the level country around was the goddess of Sizma and 
this Jupiter or Jehovah or Sabazius Orondeis. 

The double name, Etas Loutsos, is strange; it may be a 
compound, but is more probably two separate names of the 
same individual. The name, Tas, is extremely common in 
Lycaonia, also in Ciliclan compounds Etas.+ I shall leave the 
discussion of the name Loutsos to Miss Ramsay in a paper which 
she has in hand. 

The name of the steward who was ae father of Etas Loutsos 
is quite uncertain. Kandidos, suggested by Calder, is tempting 
and I would prefer it, but when the inscription was drawn out 
completely by Miss Ramsay, the space seemed to suit Karikos. 
better than Kandidos. Either name would well become a slave 
of the Emperor acting as steward on the imperial estates at Zizima.? 
His father, who must have borne the same name, is still living 
and, therefore, he is called Junior. Although the Emperor is 
not mentioned at this point, he is everywhere assumed : he lies 
at the basis of everything ; he is in the mind of every person ; 
he guides the expression of every dedication. Karikos must be 
the imperial steward. 

There can be little doubt that either Kandidos or Karikos 
is the name of the father and grandfather; and the fact that 
the youngest member of the family who erects this dedication 
has a purely Lycaonian name, is an example of the way in which 
Greco-Roman civilisation gradually died out in Anatolia and 
the old Anatolian custom and spirit revived. It was with this 
revivified Anatolian spirit that the later Empire allied itself in 
the last struggle against Christianity. It found there some trace 
of vigour and life. The Oriental or the Anatolian gradually 
absorbed and overpowered the Western spirit in Asia, and this 
must always be the case. The teaming life and the numberless 
millions of Asia form a background and a foundation of power 
which remain permanent and unchanging under all changes of 
government. 

WILLIAM MITCHELL RAMSAY. 


1 TBeoac-Htac, Mieac-Htac. 
*The Roman principle that a slave was nuilo patre, and that legal 
marriage was impossible for a slave, did not apply in the large imperial 


households of Asia Minor, and inscriptions record many cases contradicting 
it. 


ici 
5 rae 


4 
a la 


2. THE BRONZE AGE IN WALES 


For many years past archeologists have been recording the 
discovery of remains dating from prehistoric times, more as 
objects of curiosity than as material for history. Some, how- 
ever, imbued with the teachings of Darwin, have studied the 
evolution of form, whether displayed in stone, bronze, or pottery, 
and have deduced therefrom a system of comparative chronology. 
During the last twenty years, by means of synchronisms between 
the objects found in northern Europe and those discovered in 
Crete and other Greek lands, which can in their turn be syn- 
chronised with Egyptian specimens, other archeologists have 
laid the foundations of a positive chronology, at any rate from 
the first beginnings of the Bronze Age. Unfortunately, there 
is a difference of opinion among Egyptologists as to the chronology 
to be adopted for their region prior to 1600 B.c., and so the dates 
suggested for the earlier part of the Bronze Age are to some 
extent uncertain ; but for the later periods the margin of error 
or of disagreement is seldom much more than a century. 

Lastly some attempt has been made to study the distribution 
of certain types, especially of tools, weapons and ornaments of 
bronze or gold, and such investigations as have been made 
lead us to believe that by this means we shall be able to trace 
the movements of peoples and cultures. Not only so, but we 
think that we can distinguish between the arrival of peaceful 
traders and invasions of hostile tribes, and that we shall be able 
to restore the main features of the history of a region during those 
centuries when writing was still unknown. 

Unfortunately all the objects discovered have not been 
recorded in print, and even when this has been the case the 
information vouchsafed is too often obscure or insufficient for 
our purpose. Many of the objects found have passed into 
private hands, often of those ignorant of the subject and in- 
different to the scientific value of the record ; these objects have 
frequently been dispersed at the death of the collector, unaccom- 

13 


14 THE BRONZE AGE IN WALES 


panied by any information as to the site or circumstances of 
their discovery. The material for the study of distributions 
is therefore scattered and often insufficient. Some of the 
objects are in museums, often however without adequate details, 
others are in private hands, and the whereabouts of others, 
the discovery of which has been placed on record, is at present 
uncertain. 

It was with a view to recovering and_ preserving all such 
information as is available which can throw light on the distri- 
bution of bronze implements that in 1913 the Anthropological 
section of the British Association appointed a Committee to 
report on this matter. This Committee decided that in the 
first instance it was necessary to form an illustrated card catalogue 
of all the metal objects of the Bronze Age in the museums and 
private collections in the British Isles, and, if opportunity arose, 
to extend this work to foreign collections. This work is one of 
ereat magnitude, but already more than 5,000 cards have heen 
completed, and though much more remains to be done, it is 
possible to form some idea of the distribution of these objects 
throughout England and Wales, and to draw therefrom certain 
interesting conclusions. 

The first point that strikes the investigator is that the baat 
majority of the metal objects of this period have been found 
in the south and east of England, and that as we proceed north- 
westwards the numbers diminish rapidly, and that they are 
relatively rare in the Midlands and in Wales, and a closer exami- 
nation of the facts shows us that this distribution is in no ey 
a matter of accident. 

Some years ago Mr. O. G. 8. Crawford pointed out that the 
distribution of Flat Celts, the earliest type of axe, and ‘ Beakers,’ 
a form of pot roughly coeval with them, coincided very closely 
with the areas in which chalk and limestone were exposed. He 
argued very properly that such rocks would have been covered 
with open grass-lands, and that the remainder of the country 
would have been densely wooded. Outside of these grassy 
regions the discoveries were rare, and formed broken lines across 
the country, which he suggested might indicate the course of 
trade routes. 

If we take the distribution of all the metal objects of the 
Bronze Age catalogued at present (and those in the museums of 
Wales and the west of England have been dealt with as thoroughly 


THE BRONZE AGE IN WALES 15 


as those in the rest of the country),we find that there is very little 
difference to be noted. The vast majority of the objects have 
been found south-east of the chalk escarpment which runs from 
Dorset to Yorkshire, and these come mainly from areas not 
covered by Tertiary deposits or Boulder Clay. North-west of 
the chalk scarp the finds are rarer, though they become 
slightly more abundant as we reach the Oolite rocks, the outcrop 
of which lies parallel to the chalk. Beyond this they occur still 
more rarely and their disposition is indicative of trade routes 
rather than of general occupation. 

Now traders or invaders, bringing bronze tools or armed 
with bronze weapons, would arrive hither from the continent, 


from various points between Brittany and Jutland, and they 


would land on the south and east coasts, anywhere between 
Plymouth and the Moray Firth. Alonga great part of this coast, — 


from Dorset to Yorkshire, they would find open grassy chalk 


downs either close to the shore, or sufficiently near it to be reached 
in their small vessels by sailing up navigable rivers. It is easy, 
therefore, to account for the presence of a metal culture in these 


chalk lands of the south-east. 


Just to the north-west of the chalk escarpment there is a 


belt of greensand, gault and other formations of a clayey nature, 


which produces naturally various types of woodland, sometimes 


Telatively open and scrubby, at others of a denser character. 


This belt is not wide and is frequently broken by small outcrops 
of oolitic limestone which would have been free from trees, and 
it would have been possible in many places to have crossed this 
belt into the more open country of the oolite ridge—the Cotswolds 
and their continuation—without penetrating any considerable 


depth of forest. 


But beyond the oolite scarp came the great Midland Plain, 
with its deposits of Lias and Trias, much of it covered too with 
Boulder Clay. Here was a densely forested region, unsafe for 
human occupation owing to the wild beasts which infested it, 
and presenting great difficulties and dangers to the traveller. 
It-is not surprising, therefore, that but few bronze implements 
have been discovered in the Midland Plain. 

But as we pass still farther westward, into Herefordshire, 
South Shropshire and Wales, we leave the Trias with its dense 
woodland and reach the Old Red Sandstone, the Carboniferous 
Limestone and the older Paleeozoic formations. Here, as Professor 


16 THE BRONZE AGE IN WALES 


Fleure has pointed out, the forest has only covered the lower 
lands, leaving bare large areas of moorland which seem to 
have been peopled by pastoral folk since the Stone Age. Yet, 
although evidence of early settlements on these open uplands is 
not uncommon, as well as at sheltered spots near the sea-level 
by the coast, tools and weapons of bronze are extremely 
rare. 

Though the evidence at our disposal leads us to believe that 
the English coast was subject to invasion, perhaps on more than 
one occasion, during the Bronze Age, we have long since abandoned 
the belief that the knowledge of metal was first brought to this 
land by hostile invaders. The old story of the men with stone 
weapons being overcome by those armed with bronze spears 
and daggers is now discredited. We have good reason for 
believing that the trader was here before the soldier, and that 
the new culture was introduced by adventurers coming from the 
south, prospecting in these islands for precious metals, and 
particularly in search of gold, which was to be found plentifully 
in the Wicklow Hills in Ireland. 

To these goldfields came prospectors from many different 
lands, some from Brittany, and perhaps from Spain, others from 
the lands around the Baltic. Many, doubtless, sailed straight 
to Ireland, and the great wealth of objects in bronze and gold 
found in that island, many of them of foreign design, shows 
that the visitors were numerous. That some took back with 
them golden ornaments of Irish manufacture is clear from the 
wide distribution of gold lunule, which have been found from 
Brittany to Hanover. 

Now it seems probable that many of-these traders feared 


the long and dangerous sea voyage, and to shorten these landed 


on the English coast and crossed to ports in the west, sometimes 
on the Welsh coast, whence they set sail again for Ireland. Across 
the open downland of England their way was clear and the land 
thickly inhabited, but as they passed from the chalk, and still 
more as they left the oolite hills behind them, they had to plunge 
into the uninhabited forest. By the tools and weapons lost on 
the way, sometimes buried to be picked up later but never after- 
wards recovered, we can trace their footsteps, and the outline 
of some of their trade routes is known. 3 

Some passed across Yorkshire and through the Pennines, 
then turned southwards to Warrington; others landed at the 


ial 


THE BRONZE AGE IN WALES 17 


Wash, crossed the Soar at Leicester and the Trent at Burton 
and reached the Peak country, passing thence by Knutsford 
and Macclesfield to Warrington. ‘There are ample evidences of 
settlements on both sides of the Mersey at this place, which 
seems formerly to have been an island, and in the northern 
settlement at Winwick have been found implements of bronze 
and flint of obviously Danish origin. 

Another route, used frequently in the early Bronze Age, left 
Southampton and crossed the Kennet at Newbury and the Thames 
near its source. It met several other routes from the south coast 
on the top of the Cotswolds, near Cirencester, then descending 
into the Avon Valley crossed that river near Evesham and the 
Severn at Bevere Island above Worcester. This route seems to 
have passed up the Severn Valley, at the foot of the Clee Hills, 
till it crossed the river again at or below Shrewsbury. Thence 
it passed along the watershed between the basins of the Tern 
and Perry, and ultimately gained the upper Dee Valley near 
Corwen. Its objective seems to have been a port at or near 
Harlech. 

Several hoards and stray implements of a later date show 
that this route was in use towards the end of the Bronze Age, 
for we have the discovery of a palstave at Church Lench, near 
Evesham, another at Battlefield, north of Shrewsbury, two 
socketed celts, a sword and a shield near Ellesmere, and one 
or two hoards at Ebnal, all found close to the same route. The 
Ebnal hoards seem to indicate that the way passed up the Ceiriog 
Valley, perhaps as far as Llanarmon, where a flanged celt has 
been found, then across the Berwyns towards Corwen. At this 
later date an alternative route to the coast seems to have led 
past Dolgelly, near which town a leaf-shaped sword has been 
found. Another route at this period seems to have passed up 
the upper Severn Valley by Montgomery, for a great hoard of 
this date was found some years ago at Guilsfield, thus the two 
most obvious ways across Wales at this date were those now 
followed by the Great Western and Cambrian Railways. 

_ Another route, also of late date, seems to have left the former 

near Hvesham and crossed the Severn at Worcester, where a 

leaf-shaped sword has been found in the river, passing by the 

north of the Malvern Hills, where two palstaves were dropped. 

Its further course westward has not been traced, but it seems 

to have kept north of the Wye between Hereford and Hay. 
a5. VOL. lV. Cc 


18 THE BRONZE AGE IN WALES 


This route may have been aiming at Aberystwyth, or perhaps 
for some port a little to the south of that town. 

Finally there is evidence of traffic along the south coast of 
Wales, between the mountains and the sea, or it may be that 
some part of this southern slope was more thickly peopled by 
a bronze-using population. Speaking generally, however, bronze 
objects have rarely been found on the high moorlands, which 
we know were inhabited early, and most of the finds have been 
in the lower lands, which seem to have been uninhabited, but 
through which it was easier for traders to pass. ‘The conclusion 
seems to be that during the Bronze Age several routes existed 
through the Principality along which traders passed on their 
way to and from the goldfields of Ireland, and that the bulk of 
the population was living on the high moorlands or in fishing 
villages by the coast in a neolithic condition. Some exceptions 
to this rule there may have been in the coastal region of South 
Wales, especially in Glamorgan, and perhaps in the lead-producing 
area on the borders of Flint and Denbigh, but it seems unlikely 
that Wales, as a whole, enjoyed a true Bronze Age culture. 

What is true of the Bronze Age seems to be equally true of 
the Early Iron Age; few if any metal objects of this period 
have been found in this region, at any rate apart from the 
exceptional areas already specified. ‘There is no definite break 
in the culture of the Province until we come to the erection of 
hill-top camps, and the available evidence tends to show that 
even the earliest of these were erected but slightly if at all 
before the arrival of the Roman legions. 

If my conclusions are correct, we must assume that the people 
then inhabiting Wales, though not wholly in ignorance of the 
existence of metal, were as a rule little accustomed to its use, 
until this culture was brought to them by Caractacus and his 
fellow Catuvelauni, when they fled before the troops of Aulus 
Plautius in A.D. 43. But until every metal object of the Bronze 
Age, found in Wales and the marches, has been catalogued, and 
the results mapped, we cannot feel quite confident that these 
conclusions, probable though they seem to be, are absolutely 
correct. 


HAROLD PEAKE. 


3. DIONYSIACA 


In the following paper I endeavour to explain a curious feature 
of Dionysiac mythology, and to add my quota to the literature 
which has gathered around the most puzzling of Euripides’ plays. 


I. DIONYSOS AND THE THIGH OF ZEUS 


The story of the twofold birth of Dionysos is well known and 
will be found briefly told, with reference to the principal ancient 
narrators, in the learned article of F. A. Voigt in Roscher’s 
Lexikon (vol. i., cols. 1044 ff.). I venture, however, to re-tell 
it in such a form as to show clearly what seem to me its essential 
parts. 

1. Semele (daughter of Kadmos, king of Thebes)! was with 
child by Zeus. 

2. Zeus (at her own request, she having been urged to ask 
him by the jealous Hera) t approached her in all his glory, attended 
by thunder and lightning. 

3. (Being mortal) ! she could not bear the blaze of the divine 
glory or the destructive power of the thunderbolts, and was 
reduced to ashes. . 

4. Her unborn child, however, being divine (or rendered 
divine by the lightnings of his father, Ov. Fast., iii. 716) 1 was 
nnharmed. 

5. Zeus snatched him from the fire, named him (Eur., Bacch., 
526), | 

6. and, tearing open his own thigh, enclosed him therein. 

7. On the completion of the full period of gestation the child 
was re-born from the thigh of his father. 


NOTES 


1. Semele is pretty certainly originally no mortal or the daughter 
of any mortal king, but the Thrako-Phrygian earth-goddess, whose 


* Indicates a detail shown by internal or external evidence not to be 
original. 
19 


20 DIONYSIACA 


name in the mouths of her worshippers seems to have been something 
like Zemelo. That Zeus is essential to the story will I hope appear 
in the course of the article ; in the meantime I would note, against 
Voigt, who supposes that he is a patrilineal intrusion into an originally 
matrilineal tale (col. 1046), that he appears side by side with Zemelo 
in the famous Phrygian inscription, we diw¢ xe Ceucdm, see Farnell, 
C.G.S., v. p. 94; that such a sociological explanation of a detail of 
myth is hazardous i in the extreme ; and that the idea of the sky-father 
being the consort of the earth- mother is world-wide. 

2. The theme of Hera’s jealousy is found in Apollodoros: and Ovid. 
It has a distinctly Alexandrian flavour, and in the original tale what 
place is there for any other consort of the sky-god than Semele herself ? 

4. That he was made divine by the lightning is a piece of good 
Greek folk-belief apparently, see Diod. Sic., v. 52 ; but there is nothing 
to show it Thracian, nor is it necessary, as the offspring of two deities 
would naturally be divine. That his mother, however, should be at 
least temporarily killed is not derogatory to her divinity ; she came 
back again from Hades (Pind., Ol., 1. 26, and many other passages). 
There is no need for anyone coming after Frazer to labour this point. 

5, 6, 7. Except for the grotesque incident of the thigh, there is a 
certain resemblance between this story and that of the unborn Ask- 
lepios’ rescue from the pyre which consumed his mother (Pind., Pyth., 
ili. 38 ff.), as has been repeatedly pointed out. 


That the above story is Greek no one, I think, who knows 
the folklore of Hellas will believe. Greek deities, if we except 
one or two oddities of the Boiotian cycle of myths, behave in a 
very human fashion, albeit with more than human power. That 
- the Zeus of Homer or of later mythology, that most virile person- 
ality, should act in this androgynous way in a genuinely Greek 
tale, is against all we know of him. Ifa final touch of grotesque- 
ness is needed, it is supplied by the solemn statement of Kuripides’ 
chorus of bacchantes ! that the child was kept from tumbling 
out of the rent thigh by the use of golden safety-pins. But when 
we turn to the other tales which seem to have a Thracian origin 
and which concern Dionysos and his father, we come across 
many incidents as ludicrous and much more horrible in the 
myth of the rending, devouring, and resuscitation of Zagreus. 
The Thraco-Phrygian Dios, or whatever the exact form of his 
name may have been, was likely enough capable of such extra- 
vaganeces. 2 


1 HULIp.,. SaCcn., 9S. 
2 See Miss Harrison, Prolegomena, chapter on Dionysos, or any work 
dealing with Dionysiac and Orphic cults. In passing it may be noted. 


DIONYSIACA 21 


In dealing with the Thracians it is often well to remember 
that they appear to have had Mongol affinities, in culture if not 
in race. It is true that they themselves not only spoke an Indo- 
Germanic tongue, but apparently came, or at least their dominant 
stock came, from the region of the Carpathians ; also that they 
were fair-skinned and light-haired, 7.e. apparently of Nordic 
race.t Nevertheless it has been suggested that the fact of some 
at least of them being red-haired points to a cross of Nordic 
with Mongol; their neighbours the Scythians certainly appear 
to have had the squat build, straight hair and yellow skin of 
Mongols 2; and, whether from their own hypothetical Mongoloid 
element or under Scythian influence there is little doubt that 
they had Mongol stories current among them. This is most 
clearly seen in the famous tale of Orpheus and Eurydike. It 
has indeed been thought by some that EKurydike is a later addition 
to the narrative, for Orpheus as the incarnation of a vegetation- 
daimon does not need the motive of seeking for a lost wife in 
order to induce him to visit the under-world. Yet if we look at 
Japanese folklore we find a very similar tale told of the god 
Izanagi and his wife Izanami.? The story, then, of Orpheus and 
his ill-fated love may perfectly well be a genuine popular Thracian 
tale; whether it was originally told of Orpheus or of some one 
else, or simply of a nameless figure, as so many folk-tales are, is 
of minor import. 


Now it is significant and interesting, not only for the study of 


that whatever the exact significance of Zeus’ action may be, it is hazardous 
to regard it, with Bachofen, Voigt, and (doubtfully) Farnell, op. cit., p. 110, 
as reflecting a rite of adoption or of couvade. In the former case we 
should have to assume that the tellers of the story were in a transitional 
state between mother-right and father-right ; to prove which one would 
first of all have to prove the highly doubtful proposition that the Greeks 
or the Thracians ever had the former system; in the latter, it is to be 
remembered that couvade does not signify simply the simulation of 
birth-pangs or the like by the male, but the practice by both father and 
mother of a whole series of pregnancy- and birth-tabus. 

1 Summary, with references to the literature ancient and modern, in 
my art. THRACE in Hastings’ #.R.E. 

2 See Hippokrates de aére aquis locis, pp. 558-560 Kiihn; Arist. 
de gener. anim. v. 3(p. 782 33 Bekker), who says the same of the Thracians 
themselves. He goes on, however, to say that their hair was soft, which 
is hardly descriptive of Mongoloid hair. 

3 Aston, Shinto, p. 93. The story is very briefly told, but contains 
the essential features of the bereaved husband following his wife, finding 
her, breaking a tabu through curiosity, and so losing her again. 


22 DIONYSIACA 


Thracian mythology and ethnology, but for the larger problem 
of the culture of northern Asia, to note that this tale is widely 
spread in North America, which by the most reasonable hypothesis 
owes its population to that region. The story, with sundry 
variants, is to be found among the Cherokee,! on the Pacific 
C oast, among the Malecites,? and something not very unlike 
it among the Modocs,* to take only such examples as come 
readily to hand at the time of writing. 

It is therefore of interest to find that a close parallel to the 
story of Dionysos and the thigh of Zeus occurs among the Modoes 
in the form of the myth of Kumush the Creator and his son Isis.* 
It runs as follows :— 

1, Latkakawas, having lost her husband, by whom she was 
with child, took the crown of the dead man’s head and went 
to Kumush to have him made alive again. On the way she bore 
a child which she put on her back, strapped to a board in the 
usual Indian fashion. Kumush, after performing the desired 
miracle, was filled with jealousy of the man’s beauty and killed 
him again. 

2. Latkakawas in despair threw herself and her baby on her 
husband’s funeral pyre, made by Kumush. 

3. Kumush was just in time to snatch the baby from her back. 
He stilled its cries by naming it Isis. 

4, Kumush then took from the ashes of the pyre the disk 

(the crown of the head) to which the young man had again 
been reduced. He put this on the smail of his back and it was 
absorbed into his body. 

5. He then placed the child ‘in his knee, where it appeared 
as a boil.’ : 

6. Shortly afterwards he asked an old woman to press the 
supposed boil, from which the child appeared. 

7. His explanation of the arrival of the child was that the 
earth was kind and gave it to him. 


NOTES 


1, 7. Latkakawas and her husband appear from the rest of the 
story to be no mere mortals. Among other mysterious properties 


1 Mooney, Myths of the Cherokee, pp. 253, 437. 

2 Hill-Tout in J.R.AI., xxxiv. (1904), p. 339 fi. 

3 Mechling, Malecite Tales (Ottawa, 1914), p. 88 ff. 
4 Curtin, Myths of the Modocs, p. 42 ff. 

5 Curtm, op. cit. p. 5. 


DIONYSIACA 23 


they are described as being blue in colour, which seems to be the 
Modoc notion of the complexion of gods and other ideally beautiful 
beings. I do not know the meaning of her name; is it permissible 
to infer from Kumush’s rather lame story that she is an earth-deity ? 

4. Kumush’s action would seem to identify him with the dead 
father of the child, whose characteristics he thus absorbs. 

6. The child is begotten, born, and re-born within a few days. 
Apparently the heroes and heroines of Modoc stories are little affected 
by the ordinary laws of physiology. Thus, op. cit., p. 130, Wus (the 
fox) meets and marries a girl who two days later presents him with 
a son. 


Despite many minor divergencies from the Thracian myth, 
the above story seems to me to have too many points of contact 
to be reasonably explained by mere coincidence. I list them in 
order, putting in brackets those points on which the Modoc tale 
differs from the Thracian :— 

1. A (woman or) goddess is mated to a divine being (or a 
man who is afterwards absorbed into a divine being). 

2. She perishes by fire, through the direct (or indirect) agency 
of that being. : 

3. The deity, however, saves her unborn (or newly-born) 
son from the flames, and gives him a name. 

4, He puts the child into his own body. 

5. The child is re-born from his body. 

I am one of those who are not much impressed by the occur- 
rence of the same motif in two stories from different parts of the 
world. The imagination of man works along very similar lines 
everywhere, and when we find, for example, that alike in Sweden 
and in North America some part of a person’s body is represented 
as having a voice of its own and pretending, to some one who 
does not see it, that it is the entire person, I am very ready to 
accept a theory of independent origin ; but when a whole series 
of events, not necessarily arising one out of another, follow as 
they do in these two stories, the polygenetic hypothesis strains 
coincidence too much. I therefore postulate a real connection, 
though very distant, between the Thracian and the Modoc tales 
of the birth of a son to the sky-god in the one case and the Creator 
in the other ; and as a corollary, the existence of intermediate 
stories, which my ignorance of matters Asiatic does not allow 
me to point out, on the long road separating the Balkans from 
the State of Oregon. 


24 DIONYSIACA 


Il. THE PALACE OF PENTHEUS 


The ingenious works of Norwood ? and Verrall ? have fami- 
liarised students with the problem of that great but perplexing 
masterpiece of Euripides, the Bacchae. Put as briefly as possible, 
the puzzle is as follows: in the prologue, Dionysos appears, saying 
that he has taken human shape and will vindicate his own and 
his mother’s honour against unbelievers. Shortly afterwards the 
chorus of bacchantes enters. Later, at the command of Pentheus, 
a mysterious stranger, traditionally called Dionysos but never 
referred to by that name in the text, nor treated by the chorus 
as other than a man, is arrested. He behaves with great coolness 
and after a short colloquy is taken into the stables of the palace 
to be imprisoned there. A scene of great excitement follows, 
during which one of the chorus cries out that the palace is 
tumbling down. ‘ Dionysos,’ as it is convenient to call him, 
reappears and tells how Dionysos delivered him and ruined 
the palace. Pentheus re-enters, is persuaded by ‘ Dionysos ’ 
to go secretly to visit the Theban women who are celebrating 
Bacchic rites on Kithairon, goes, and is there murdered by them 
in their frenzy. Neither Pentheus himself nor anyone else 
seems to notice anything wrong with the palace, which Pentheus 
and ‘ Dionysos’ leave, enter, and leave again after the supposed 
disaster. Finally Dionysos reappears, ex machina, and among 
other things (most of his speech is lost) foretells the future 
destinies of Pentheus’ family. 

The authors above referred to explain as follows : The stranger 
is a mortal, the illegitimate child of Semele by an unknown 
father, and a clever schemer. In his own interests and those 
of his Oriental cult he gets power over Pentheus, whether by 
drugging or intoxicating him (Verrall), or “hypnotising’ him 
(Norwood). The chorus are his dupes, and deserve to be; 
and he treats them with contempt, calling them ‘ barbarian 


women ’ (BéoBaoot yuvaixes, 604; but this need mean no more 
than ‘my countrywomen,’ cp. Aesch., Persae, 391, 434, 798). 


Pentheus is foully murdered by fraud, and the stranger knows it. 


-1 Riddle cf the Bacchae, esp. ch. viii. 2 Bacchants of Euripides. 
3 That no such results could be attained by hypnotism is no argument 
against this theory. Granted that Euripides had from some source a 


hazy idea of such a power, comparable to that held by Du Maurier and 


other writers of about that time, the rest might follow. That the Greeks 
did believe in ‘ glamour’ is clear enough ; and conjurers and wizards the 
world over are thought able to make people see what is not there. 


DIONYSIACA 25 


Such a theory, which presupposes the necessity for much 
reading between the lines, is of course impossible to refute by 
strict philological reasoning, as one could refute, for instance, 
the idea that St. Paul wrote the Epistle to the Hebrews or that 
Plato did not write the Parmenides. But it involves the very 
great psychological improbability of supposing that Euripides 
means us to disbelieve him when he is putting into the mouths 
of the chorus words of the most exalted religious fervour, coupled 
with insight such as one does not expect in the dupes of a schemer 
as detestable as ever imposed on the less intelligent elements of 
the American public. 

Ought it not to be remembered that Euripides wrote this 
play, not in Athens, where the cult of Dionysos was a sober and 
civilised affair, but in Macedonia, next door to Thrace, where 
he may well have seen it at its best—wild, barbaric, but full 
of life and real, enthusiastic belief ? This might well impress 
him, not with any new beliefs of his own, for he seems to remain 
as sceptical as ever, but with a new estimate of the feelings of 
believers. : i 

Take a modern parallel. Suppose that a Londoner, brought 
up as an old-fashioned Agnostic somewhat of the type of J. 8S. 
‘Mill, has taken to writing novels in which he deals with such 
religious problems as he has observed among his own class. He 
goes on a holiday, to Wales or Scotland, and there finds himself 
in the middle of one of the recent revivals. He will see nothing 
to make him change his intellectual view-point; but may it 
not dawn upon him for the first time that popular Evangelical 
Christianity is for some people in some moods not simply a thing 
to be accepted but a source of the most fervent and desperately 
sincere emotion? He has imagination and sympathy enough 
to enter into the feelings of the revivalist and his flock; and 
he writes a novel in which he powerfully depicts their experiences 
—a novel, say, containing a character as true to life as Dinah 
in Adam Bede. The novel might indeed set forth the physical 
and mental ruin of some one of unbalanced mind who listened 
to the revivalist ; but it would no more paint him a mere cheat 
and schemer than George Eliot does Dinah. - 

Let us try to interpret the play, keeping this in view. 

Prologue.—Enter Religious Enthusiasm (conventionally named 
Dionysos, as Passion and Asceticism are called Aphrodite and 
Artemis in the Hippolytos). He will this day show his power 


26 DIONYSIACA 


through human agencies (or allegorically, by taking human 
Shape, poogiy 0° auetpas é Oeod Bootnoiay, 4). 

Act 1.—Enter sundry Votaries (the Chorus); enter an Old 
Convert (Kadmos) and a Time-Serving Priest (Teiresias). To 
them, enter the Anti-Enthusiast (Pentheus). After their dia- 
logue, and a hymn from the Votaries, 

Act 2.—enter guards, leading the Revivalist (the Stranger, 
whom I agree with Prof. Norwood and. Dr. Verrall in thinking 
a mortal—a priest or shaman of the Dionysiac cult—and no 
god). He faces Pentheus and with a martyr’s courage rebukes 
him. He is led off to his prison. 

Act 3.—After a long interval ! a voice is heard chanting from 
the prison. On this scene the whole action turns; I therefore 


treat it more fully. Alone and in the dark—so I interpret it— 


the shaman begins to ‘shamanise.’ His incantations have the 
desired result, and he feels himself filled with what he interprets 
as divine possession. His voice rises above the singing of the 
chorus in what seems to be a ritual call, a surswm corda, in a 
dignified metre which contrasts admirably with the frightened 


cries of the women, who give vent to their emotions in a string 


of short syllables :— 
576 iw a 
uhvet Eudco uddvev avd0ds UUW UU 
LO" POLLED M OM ROTO ee a 


A little later, and he feels that the miracle is complete ; 
he is a Bakchos in the full sense, and has attained unity with 
his god. He proceeds in answer to the excited question ‘ Who 


calls ?’ to say so, again in what sounds like a ritual formula :— 


980 iw iw adhw abd Se Seyi SS 
6 Leuéhacs, 6 Aios naic PF PGBS Qos 


The chorus believe—why should they not ?—and invoke 
him as their god. The shaman is now filled, as he believes, 


with divine power, really with the strength of madness. As’ 


* During a choral ode, Greek stage-convention allows as much time 
as the author finds necessary to pass. For instance, in the Hercules 
Furens, the Chorus sings for about 35 lines (874-908) between the exit of 
Madness and the entrance of the Messenger. In that time there is sup- 
posed to take place the whole complicated series of events described in 
928-1013. 


™~ 4 S 
ee ee Me 


DIONYSIACA aT 


he wrestles with his bonds he cries out in a voice of majestic 
command to the Earthquake to come and help him :— 


584 ccete» médov yOovos ~Evvoow aorta * SU ORI SR GO 


The chorus are as mad as he now, and at once cry to each 
other that the palace is falling in ruins. Something turns the 
thoughts of the enthusiast within to a miracle of fire ; he calls 
for it, still in a dignified metre, appropriate to a commanding 
deity ?:— 


594 date xeoatyioy aifoza saundoa, SU PSUS Oa GY 
otupieye otupleye Oduata Llevbéws -V Ur YU YU HU YR 


They of course see the fire. The shaman has got loose now, 
and comes out full of the wonders within, first attributing all 
to his own power (614, 621), then, as the enthusiasm lessens, 
drifting into the third person and describing the doings, not 
of himself, but of the god. It is all very splendid, but hard to 
deseribe ; Pentheus was there—somewhere—and a_ bull—Dio- 
nysos is a Bull, so he must have been there—and I was there— 
but I am a Bakchos, so it was all one—Pentheus could not 
bind the Bull—so he could not bind me—so I am loose—he 
chased a phantom, I suppose—ah, here he comes, angry no 
doubt. And the speaker turns to meet the angry Pentheus 
with words of calm, almost heedless, command.? The man is 
such a fool, and quite harmless—to a god. 

What of Pentheus? He is very far from clever, and he 
respects ability, though he is suspicious of it. His first angry 
rush (642) is met with a few words of cool, incisive command : 
‘Stop! Be calm!’ The Stranger is a clever fellow, very 
clever, only in the wrong way (655). But he seems very sure 
of himself. Now the Messenger enters with the news of Bacchic 
miracles in plenty—such miracles as Euripides had doubtless 
heard described in perfect sincerity by Macedonians at the 


1 | follow the admirable and convincing conjectures of Willamowitz- 
Moellendorf and Murray. 

2 Being ‘ possessed’ he reproduces faithfully the tone and language 
of his ‘control.’ See any description of savage shamans or civilised 
‘mediums.’ 

3 Orso it seems tome. I ask that readers of this essay will check my 
interpretation by re-reading for themselves, preferably in the original, 
the two scenes between ‘ Dionysos’ and Pentheus, 451-518 and 642-659, 
787-846. 


28 DIONYSIACA 


court of Archelaos, or possibly by Macedonian peasants.1 This 
rouses the poor bewildered Anti-Enthusiast to a last effort ; he 
will go out at the head of his troops (if they will follow him). 
Now the Stranger suggests a better way of dealing with the 
situation: why not take his advice and go quietly, in disguise, 
to see how much truth there is in these tales ? 

Meanwhile the Stranger is surer than ever that he is either 
a god or the messenger of one. Kings obey him! What is 
he to do with this obedient king? Obviously, punish him 
terribly for his blasphemies ; it is Dionysos’ doing. 

Act 4.—He carries out the plan, with the result that he 
makes Pentheus as full of mad enthusiasm as any of the Chorus. 
Euripides had no doubt learned that enthusiasm is contagious ; 
we have in our own day plenty of examples of a person coming 
out of curiosity to a revival meeting and ending by being ‘ cor- 
verted.’ It is no great indictment of Euripides to assume that 
he did not know that for such effects a crowd is necessary ; 
he might plausibly argue that the man who could so rouse a 
hundred people would find it as easy, or easier, to affect one. 

Act 5 sees the terrible aftermath of the killing of Pentheus 
and the horror-stricken recovery of the mad Agaue. The 
Stranger does not re-enter ; is it unreasonable to suppose 
that he has dropped utterly exhausted somewhere on Kithairon 
and will sleep for several hours? Dionysos now appears, to 
comment on it all from his point of view. To say that his 
words—what we have of them—are callous is to miss the point. 
He is a natural force, Religious Enthusiasm, and simply non- 
moral. 


H. J. ROSE. 


1 That is, if he could understand them. We know that Macedonian 
was allied to Greek ; but our very scanty documents do not allow us to 
determine how like Greek it was. Stillless are we capable of saying how 
long it would take Euripides to learn a foreign dialect. He knew of 
course not one but several dialects of Greek more or less thoroughly, and 
may have been in the position of a traveller in Friesland who starts with 
a competent knowledge of broad Yorkshire. As the kings of Macedonia 
claimed to be Argives (Hdt., v. 22), Greek was presumably the usual 
court language, as French was at the court of Frederick the Great. 


, 
ty 
+ 


4. THE CLAUSULAE OF AESCHINES ! 


It is not too much to say that no one will get very far in the 
scientific investigation of prose rhythms unless he has first studied, 
at least in part, the thorough and exhaustive works on that 
subject by Prof. Zielinski, Das Clauselgesetz in Ciceros Reden 
and Der durchgehende Rhythmus. One may easily get lost in 
the wide range of his treatment and subtle distinctions; but 
something will have been gained if only the leading principles 
are mastered, and that is, perhaps, as much as most of us will 
be able to do. 

It seemed to me that an experiment in this fascinating side- 
walk of criticism might be carried on in the Speeches of Aeschines, 
the reputed founder of that Rhodian School where Cicero him- 


1 Investigation into prose rhythms, though not exactly virgin soil, 
is yet a field that has not been much worked and in which there is room 
for more extended labour. From a merely utilitarian point of view it is 
a branch of textual criticism which should go far in proving or disproving 
the genuineness of any doubtful work. It is something to be able to 
say, after studying a MS. of unknown authorship, that it is or is not the 
work of any suggested writer, because it is or is not in his peculiar style, 
it has or has not his particular prose rhythm. Then, from a purely 
literary point of view, it will not be denied that to study the forms used 
by a prose writer, as you would study the metre of a poet, is not only to 
appreciate him better, but to improve your own style. And although we 
cannot deny the possibility of native untrained rhetoric, for instance, yet: 
there is no doubt that, to acquire a good style, there can be nothing better 
than the old models, especially the study of Latin Prose ; which will not 
only enable you to write good English with considerable freedom and 
ease, but will improve your logical sequence of thought, its arrangement 
and expression. On this point, see Cic. de Orat. III. 11. 

The following attempt to classify the Prose Rhythms of Aeschines is 
the result of a suggestion made to me by Prof. Rose; and it is not too 
much to say that without his inspiration, help and kindly criticism it 
could never have been carried out. If this tentative essay, faulty as it 
inevitably is, should lead others to undertake similar investigations into 
the prose rhythms of other classical writers, it will not have been made 
in- vain. 

29 


30 THE CLAUSULAE OF AESCHINES 


self studied. It would be interesting to see if there were any 
points of resemblance. And here I found excellent work on 
the Speeches of another Attic Orator, by Professor Minscher, 
Isocrates’ Panegyrikos, §§ 1-50, a very original and suggestive 
treatise. 

For the benefit of those who have made no special study 
of this subject it will be as well to call attention to a few elemen- 
tary truths which underlie the subject of prose rhythms. We 
have to remember that words appeal to the ear as well as to 
the mind; and in oratory a sentence must have melody as 
well as meaning. Instead of the verses which we find in poetry, 
in prose we have cola, x@da, 1.e. ‘limbs.’ Several cola taken 
together make a period. The term clausula, strictly the end 
of a period, may be extended to the end of a colon or clause. 
Now, poetry has metre, but prose must have rhythm, which, 
unlike metre, is not tied down to any definite succession of 
feet, though it requires metrical form of some kind for its expres- 
sion, and an orator will naturally and instinctively have some 
favourite combinations of feet, which are characteristic of him: 
what these are, in the case of Aeschines, I have been endeavour- 
ing to find. It is clear that an orator must not fall into verse. 
Demosthenes, for instance, has a great number of iambics, but 
as they are divided between two cola, they are not to be regarded 
as forming one whole, for, in prose rhythms, we are not to jump, 
so to speak, over a comma or other mark. of distinction between 
clauses. But in Aeschines, as we shall see further on, there are 
many complete iambic verses in distinct cola. But though 
prose and poetry must not have the same metre, that of the 
former may suggest the latter. Cf. Aristotle, het. III. vii. 
A clausula should consist of a base and a cadence, e.g. collocar | 
étur, audéat | iudicaré. It should be noticed that it is to the 
end of a period, chiefly, that we must look for these rhythms. 
Just as the end or peroration part of a speech, summing up all 
that has gone before and emphasising it, so the end of a clause 
focusses itself into an intensive and spontaneous collocation of 
feet, called rhythm, 6vOudc, t.e. “even flow ’ ; in fact, brings into 
order and harmony the unstudied and perhaps hurried words 
preceding it. 


The clausulae of Cicero, according to Zielinski, fall mainly into 
five classes, for simple rhythms: out of these spring a very large 


THE CLAUSULAE OF AESCHINKES | 31 


number of resolved rhythms, which involve a good deal of classification 
which must be studied in the book itself. These five are the 
V-class (verae clausulae) 
L-class (licitae) 
M-class (malae) 
P-class (pessimae) 
S-class (selectae) 


In full: Vl -—vV-]-v morte vicerunt 1 
V2 -v-|-v- cessit audaciae 
VG) |e = possem cognoscere 
ee Oo audeat iudicare 
V(3)-—-- | -v-v decreto restitutus 
14 -v-|[-v-v- Spiritum pertimescerem 
L(4) ---|-v-vu- adferri testimoniis 
M5 —-v-|-v-v-¥u posteram gratulationem 
M(5)—---|-vu-v-vu indictis aestimationis 
M6 —~v-|/—v=v-v-— — euria propter abstinentiam 
M(6)---—|—-vY-v-wv-  damnato te referre noluit 
M7 —~v-|—v-v+v-~—v curia disputare noluerunt 
M(7) --- |-v —-v-—v-—v imprimis nobilem necare iussit 
Sl. —--=|-v maiores nostri 
82 -v-|--- et patres conscripti 
S(2) ---|--- dilectus accedent 
S38 -—U-|---vu consules designati 
S(3) -=-|---v audebas appellare 
Pl -—-vv-|-v iudicio credas 
P2 -vafpeuuv- | regiae divitiae 
P(2)---|-vu- collegis de auspiciis 
P83 -UuUrl|-vuun-Yu tota res transigeretur 
123) S| Se ad praedam proposuerunt 


These are the main forms. In Aeschines I found little use 
for L4 and (4), and for all the M-classes. 

A very large variety of forms arise from the very common 
use of resolved feet, due to the fact that one long syllable may 
be resolved into two short :—e.g. the simple cretic may often 
appear in the form of the first or fourth paeon, — vv v or v¥L -, 
or even as vyvvv, The molossus may be resolved into the 
Jonic a maiore or a minore, 7.e. --— may appear as —- vv 
or vv —-, the latter often forming the base of the cadence 
—~v-—or—v—v; and there are many others. 

While collecting and arranging the various rhythms to be 
found in Aeschines, I was at once struck by the iambic nature 


1 Syllaba anceps. 


32 THE CLAUSULAE OF AESCHINES 


of a very large number of them. ‘The iambic,’ Aristotle tells 
us (Rhet. III. viii.), “is the very cadence of common talk ; hence 
men use iambics in conversation more than any other kind 
of metre’ (Jebb’s Translation). Aeschines had some experience 
as an actor and had learnt to manage a fine voice, to declaim 
and to pose. He had studied the drama. He was possibly 
more concerned with words than principles, lacking the 700¢ 
of Demosthenes, for instance. It is, I suppose, a fact that 
he was apt in his oratory to degenerate into mere talk. Hence 
I think we may expect to find a marked iambic rhythm in 
his clausulae. I found it advisable, therefore, to add a few 
of such rhythms to the more familiar (Zielinskian) forms ; but 
I did not find that they in any degree outnumbered those forms, 
found in Cicero, as you will see by comparing results. As to 
the complete iambic verses to be found in Aeschines, if we 
include all those that run along like true iambics, but break 
metrical rules, having no caesura, violations of the cretic ending, 
spondees in the wrong foot, and so on, we shall find a total 
of 133. Of these I believe some 14 are quite correct in every 
way. Nearly all of them are complete in their several clauses, 
and thus deserve the strictures of Aristotle on that point. Here 
and there is a lame trimeter, or Scazon, as 7yotvuevor Otxaoy 
elvat THY Goyyy, In Ctes. § 85. 

The following sections in the three Speeches contain the 
true iambics : 

Against Timarchus §§ 48, 62, 88. 

On the Embassy §§ 66, 76, 167, 183. 

Against Ctesiphon §§ 37, 42, 43, 133, 144 (ei yo . . . dew), 
186, 224. 

These will all be found within their respective clauses, except 
‘ Against Ctesiphon’ § 186, where the last foot borrows from 
the next clause. There are a few more iambics very nearly as 
good, but not quite unexceptionable. 


GENERAL SCHEME OF RHYTHMS 
To show on what principle the Rhythms are classified. 


SIMPLE le RESOLVED 
I. Double ditrochee —-vu-¥ erent —-u- JuUuUu-YV 
II. Double diiambus v —U-| v—vu-— 
III. Cretic preceded or followed by 


d 
.? 


THE CLAUSULAE OF 


SIMPLE 


(a) trochee or ditrochee 
-v [= =() 


Ne (9) 
De Pa 1) 
-—-U-— —u-—v (0) 


(b) iambus or diiambus 


u—|—v—-(a) 
=) 6) 
= ae (6) 
—~vu-|u-v—(0) 


(c) preceded by bacchius 
U-- | —-US— 
IV. Molossus followed by 
(a) trochee or ditrochee 
---|-» (a) 


=--|-v-v @) 


(6) iambus or diuambus 


—--([(vuv=-y 


(@) |v 

ip e 
V. Molossus with cretic 
=o Ee 
oa fee 


Besa VOL. LV: 


AESCHINES 33 
RESOLVED 

Se OS Oy Se (\: 
vuyv|—v-—(lt) 

Me Ce Oy (2) 

Dee Mee Ca) 

vyuu-—|-v-(4) 

DID Se DI ((D) 


ee 

Oe 

ES IVS | Ge,(8)) 
GeO Oi Teg) 
vuuvy|—v (10) 


NY Me epanes eae i) 


—-vVVY vu ¥v (12) 


PRI GS OI ((118}) 
ee as 
ee  ei5) 
yvuu-|uuvv—-Hv (16) 


ee gee Se = CL) 


Di Nea al Regs Me en 4) 


moe le 22 (3) 


= 


RG | eee 


( 
( 
--vuluvVv(4 
( 


eo) 
yu--—|u-(2) 


vuuvuvu-|vu-—(3) 


---Jvvv-(l 
vuna-|-¥-0 
---|-v vv 
--vu|-v-(4 


vun--[o-vyY 


if 6 


vu--|y¥YuyY 


—-vvuvil--yvy 


34 


SIMPLE 


VI. Double Molossus or cretic 


peace 
| 


VII. Molossus or cretic, with dispondee 


(a) ---|--~- 
(b) -v =|=-=- 


VIII. Choriambus preceded or followed by 
(a) trochee or ditrochee 


—vu [vu v =(a) | 
—-v-—T|=-v v=(f) | 
ee) | 
NU v—-|-v-v (6d) 


(6) iambus or diiambus 
(2) ee 
OS 
Oe epee ha) 


0) a Se 
(c) preceded by bacchius 
Ua | —-VUVU 
IX. Choriambus 
(a) with cretic or molossus 
=WuUuU= | =U = (a) 


| 
i 


=o 1s -() 


THE CLAUSULAE OF AESCHINES 


RESOLVED 


~yvuv-|--vy (5d) 


vyuu-|—-v—-(l) 
-vuvuvl-vvy (2) 
Je Soy 
5 eee 
vyuvu-|[uuv—-(d) 
—-vy-|vuvuvvy (6) 


Wao — | ee ak) 


[c= aap 
ee 
ee 
IRAE LD IY | -——-— (4) 


----|v uy) 


SO S= <A Sea 


| ES Se ee ne AO 


-vvu-|uvuv (3) 
vuuvu-|—-vu (4) 
= v-|uuvu—vy (3) 


SALSA | ep eee 0) 


Ce i 


-vv-|uvv-(l) 


NY SIND | - v — (2) 


J-vu-[vuvvuvvy (8) 


-v-[vvvv-(l) 


—~v-|j-vuvvy (2) 


THE CLAUSULAE OF AESCHINES 35 
SIMPLE RESOLVED 
—-vyvvuvul-y u — (3) 
vuv-|-vv—-(4) 
-vya|a=-(y) | aye nl--4 eo) 
vyuyyv—|---(2) 
eS ON) Ce are (1) 
(6) double choriambus en On OCReES ion (ly) 
—-vvu-|-VvYVe SS, OU eS) (2) 
X. Pure dactylic (a) dipody —-v v-vu 
(b) a second dipody 
(c) tripody —v v—-v v -(a) 
—-UVU- VU uv ——(f) 
(d) tetrapody 
-yvu-yvyu—vvy-—-(a) 
(contracted) — v vu ------ (5) 


wae Dactylic combined 
(a) preceded by choriambus 


—-vuvu-|-vu-- 
(b) preceded by ditrochee 
(a) =U |-—v Uoe 
(3) Wa J-yvur-VvyY 
(c) preceded by cretic or molossus 
Qo foe 
(== oe 
—-v—-|-vuVH-vyY 
Se | eee ee 
(d) combined with ditrochee 
(ec) combined with cretic 


vuu-|-vvu--(t) 
yuu |-uY——-(2) 
~vuvul|-vv—-—(3) 


The forms in the above scheme for which I am responsible are 


I, II (6), IV (6), VIL (). 


TABLE OF RHYTHMS, IN ORDER OF FREQUENCY 
| (The three speeches combined) 
A. ZIELINSKIAN CLAUSULAE 


Z.s notation 


Vi 607 examples. 
V2 44] * 
V2 88 = 
PP3 S005, Fu 
ied 356 3 
S2 ZOOS oe 5, 


36 


THE CLAUSULAE OF AESCHINES 


VvuYV-|H-YU 


yvu-|-YUe- 
IV (@) (1) ---|uvy 
Owe 
Waa aS Sin 


Ss 2S 
SiS Ss 


| 
4 
SS 


Y 


— 
g 
a 
Cc 


Ss 


) 
DN = PIS OS 
QO) vo Gu |= 


OY 
SS PA Y | 
dail ee US) 


— 
= 


op 
—~nMea=—5 


—-vu-lfuvuYVe 


) 
) (8) -y uv |--- 


<4 
| 
SEC SS ESS 
| 
C 
| 
| 
C 
@ 
| 
C 


3) 
Be) oe =i ee 
) 


a} py ey 
rm 


— 
_ 
Li 


UuU-|---—- 


= =< 
Sy 


vVuUY-flUuUY 


(5) 
os jou 
) (8) 
(2) 


{el 
aa 


= 


SS 
Dt 

| 

| 

| 

| 

C 

C 

| 

C 


2 
ae or }226 examples. 
S92 214) 
S] igo 
Tot 5 Esmee 
P2 ae 
Ms2t 149 | 
V3 135 ‘ 
V3 135 oe 

1 
ee or | 13] hs 
S3 119 Se 
p2 jem 
L21 Wee 
L21 eieo seake 
PL? eek 
S3 107 AS 
LI Ge 
L2° 7 ea ae 
p22 Tile ae 
128 68 2. | 
pat 6620 
MST? 62.02. 
MS?) See. 

1 
iar or 56 ras. 
M12 Ra 
Mis S 3a eee 
P12 
M3tr2 cry 42 95: 
L3" 40 a 
MSs? = 39 =. 
MI? 36 5 
Mon. 3a 
Ma22 34 5. 
P3 BON rat: 
WR 
p21 hiss te 
p21 26 a 
MS31 sil be 
MS31. 21 = 
M223 (eee 
L22 Vise. 
Mi? cries = 
Moittcr fy es 
P3 is:ae 
pet 13 


ol - 


THE CLAUSULAE OF AESCHINES 

Wai) 0) ro eto M2! 11 examples. 
VII (2) -v vv |---- MS32 ll - 
VI (6) 4) -vuvvluvv- M2?8 10 “5 
Mili) = | OU L33 9 
XI (a) -~-vv-j-vvnry P3 8 bi 
VI (a) (2) --vv |--- MS2? 6 e 
OG ee aa oaeememe Wee 
IX (a) (a) (3) —-vu-|yvuvuvVY M234 5 i 

: 2 
ieee) — oy |S eo 4 aH 
B. NON-ZIELINSKIAN CLAUSULAE 
(a) Differing in base 

Ill @) (8) -v -v- |-v- 232 examples. 
XI (e) —-vvl-v- 187 = 
IIt (a) (a) —-v |-¥ - 181 ie 
Hil (c) v--|-v- 113 5 
T-v-v luvv 103 29 
Vill (c) v—-—-|-vv- 86 ry) 
XI (d) -vvlav-v 53 a6 
VIII (a) (a) = | - ENS oe 50 ye) 
VIII (a) (8) -v-vl-vv- A8 - 
I (0) (a) Ue fav= 36 re) 
IIi (c) (lj) v--[vuvv- 95 ‘3 
II (a) (2) —-v-vluvvu- DAI i 
II @) GQ) -vluvv- 2] 
MG) joy fa Gees 
XI (6) (a) ~-v-v[-vu-y 4. a 
VIII (2) d) vu vv l[-vve 3 Ps 

(6) Differing in cadence or whole rhythm 
Tit (b) (6) —-v-|u- 101 in 
MISO E(2) Sy SG oe To, 
WO) o-- |e v= TA, 
LT (0) CD) 5Gi soe 
a) (c) ——— ) = Foie ae 
VIII (6) (6) —-vv-ju-v- 43 55 
Bet(6) (3) | SG 42 3 
VIII (b) (vy) -vv-|v- 40 is 
Vill (6) (a) v-|-vV- 17 . 
IV (6) (2) Sa ae ne 10 Be) 
BMI) (4) Oe |G DS 
IX (a) (8) @) -v-|-vuve ohare 
(c) Anomalies 

SL) (B) -vur-vun-y 40 9 - 
X (d) (a) —-YvU-VVU-V Ye 8 » 
IV (6) (83) vu Vv Ve-fue- + “ 


eg anne aad 


US) THE CLAUSULAE OF AESCHINES 


If we now compare the favourite rhythms of Aeschines with 
those of Cicero we shall find :— 


(1) That the rhythm — uv — |— ~ is the first favourite of both. 
(2) That the following rhythms are nearly equally popular 
with both: —=——|—v—; —vail[—V4—-3;-Vuvdiew, 


b) 


(3) That the favourite rhythms cannot, on the whole, he 
said to be the same in each. Thus, the rhythms - vv -v, 


—-vv—|-v,---|---—-vyu-ve- 


3 ral Saar eee ee 

See ie eee ee eh | 
which are rather frequent in Aeschines are by no means equally 
so in Cicero ; while in the case of the latter, his -—— |-—v-v, 
—vu-—|—v-—vy are not found so very frequently in Aeschines. 
(4) That whereas in Cicero the rhythms ———|-—v-v and 
—vu— |—v—v (which is as far as I have taken those in Aeschines) 


may extend to a cadence as long as —-vu—-v—v—v (M7 and 
M7), such effects are not to be found in our author. | 

(5) That whereas Cicero avoids closing a period with the end 
of a verse, e.g. esse videtur, placuisse Catoni, Aeschines is much 
given to this particular ending, in which fault he is kept in 
countenance by Livy, e.g. in vincula duci, who was, of course, 
often poetical in his diction. + 
RR, Ay LORE. 


1 Professor Rose adds: If we take all the rhythms in the above list 
which can by any ingenuity be expressed in Zielinskian terms, we find 
that they amount to 5,712 out of a total of 7,472 (or 5,752 if we take 
87 in the above list as -UUYU—VUv—y, 7.e. MS2"), which is enough 
to show that excellent as Zielinski’s terminology is for Ciceronian—and. 
I may add, for Pauline—rhythms, it is inadequate for the Attic orator. 
We find, moreover, even among those rhythms which do come under 
his classification, no such preponderance of one or two classes over the 
rest as Cicero affords us. The figures are: Verae clausulae, 1,706; 
Incitae, 954; Malae, including MS, 780; Selectae, 921; and Pessimae 
or pessimarum pessimae, 1,351. This, however, is not to say that Aeschines 
had no preferences, 2.e. that his prose was not rhythmical at all, or rhyth- 
mical only in Blass’s sense, 7.e. showing occasional recurrence of the same 
or approximately the same combinations of longs and shorts. If we 
take Mr. Pope’s eleven classes, the figures are: i, 103 examples; i, 58; 
m1, 2,227 5 1V, 083,35 Ve LOGS Wal 159s val, 3ie- VAT OO Opie COU nana 
414: and xi,:297. The order is thus ai, -v,; 1x,-vi, Wills Iwe xe vale ad 
7.e. the preference is given very decidedly to those combinations of feet 
in which the cretic, molossus, and choriambus—which, especially the 
first two, may be said to form the basis of Ciceronian rhythm—cre most 
prominent. The process of selection from a much larger stock of possible 
rhythms, which we find at its best in Cicero and pushed to an absurd 
extreme in Byzantine Greek and medieval Latin, had already begun 
when Aeschines fought his losing fight against Demosthenes. 


5. FURTHER NOTES ON THE FAMILIAR 
LETTERS OF JAMES HOWELL 


The Motto above Howell’s portrait at the foot of the 
frontispiece to the first edition of the ‘ Familiar Letters,’ Sub 
mole resurgo. 


This refers to the Palm-branches that border the portrait. In one 
form or another, it is a familiar emblem. Alciatus’s thirty-sixth, with 
the heading ‘“* Obdurandum adversus urgentia,’”’ has explanatory verses 
beginning, 
Nititur in pondus palma, & consurgit in arcum ; 
Quo magis & premitur, hoc mage tollit onus. 


On the title-page of J. L. Balzac’s * Carmina,’ &c., edited by Ménage, 
“Sumptibus Augustini Courbé, in Palatio Regio, sub signo Palmae,”’ 
Paris, 1650, is a palm-tree with the legend ‘‘ Curvata Resurgo.”’ 

_ On the reverse of sign. A4, in ‘ Poemata vari argumenti,’ by William 
Dillingham, London, 1678, are three palm-trees, on one of which weights 
are hung; a scroll bears the legend ‘‘ Depressa resurgo.” 

Laurentius Lippius has this distich ‘De palma’: 


Pondere non premitur, sed sursum palma resurgit, 
Hine sibi victores signa superba petunt. 
‘Delitiae CC. Italorum Poetarum,’ Part I., p. 1388. 


In Jean Passerat’s poem, ‘ Palma, Cal. Ian. anni 1591,’ lines 95-100 are 


Vertim haec eximias inter laus maxima dotes, 
Cedere quod nescit, quamuis vrgetur iniquo 
Pondere, & aethereas contra se tollit in auras, 
Indignata premi, geminatque iniuria vires. 
Scilicet expressa est animosi robore lgni, 
Quae tua in aduersis, Memmi, constantia rebus. 
‘Delitiae C. Poetarum Gallorum,” Part III., p. 61. 


John of Salisbury’s account of this alleged peculiarity of the palm, 
‘ Policraticus,’ V., 6, is taken verbatim, without acknowledgment, from 
Gellius, III., 6. Gellius, giving as his authorities ‘“‘Aristoteles in septimo 
problematorum et Plutarchus in octavo symposiacorum,”’ writes: ‘Si 
super palmae”’ inquiunt “arboris lignum magna pondera inponas ac 
tam graviter urgeas oneresque, ut magnitudo oneris sustineri non 
queat, non deorsum palma cedit nec intra flectitur, sed adversus pondus 
resurgit et sursum nititur recurvaturque.”’ 
' Here, then, we get the resurgo of the emblem-mottoes. The statement 


39 


ee 


40 HOWELL’S LETTERS 


is not extant in Aristotle. The passage in Plutarch is in Bk. viii., chap. 
4 of the ‘Symposiaca,’ 724&. 

In the ‘Symbola et Emblemaia’ of Joachim (II) Camerarius, I.. 
lviii., is a picture of an Acanthus springing up about a basket weighted 
with a tile; and the motto ‘* Depressa resurgit,’’ with a reference to the 
story in Vitruvius, IV., 1, of the invention of the Corinthian capital. 

Howell alludes to the palm-tree legend in another letter, I1., ix., p. 387: 
‘“A Religion that in a most miraculous manner did expand herself, and 
propagate by simplicity, humbleness, and by a mere passive way of 
fortitude, growing up like the Palm-tree under the heavy weight of 
Persecution.” 


The Voie, or a Poem-Royal, the heading immediately over the 


first. line, p. 5: 
POEMA. 


Vv / 
a TONVETLHOY. 


In his Preface (p. xi. of the 1892 volume), Jacobs claims to ‘have 
corrected the few misprints ”’ of the 1737 edition of the Letters which he 
follows generally. His correction is incomplete. The absurd stop, for 
instance, after PoEMA which makes nonsense of the heading is mechanically 
reproduced. It was absent in the earliest editions, Ltonvetixoy being of 
course the adjective defining PormMa. It is a modern coinage from the 
Latin strena (Fr. étrenne), a New Year’s gift, which appears in Greek in 
Athenaeus, II., 97D, tiv t20 “Poyaiwy xalovuevyy otonvay. 


4 
f 


The Vote, line 28, p. 6: 

No Pistols, or some rare-spring Carabines. 

‘“* Rare-spring ” calls for explanation. The reference is to the wheel- 
lock. Prof. C. H. Firth, in ‘Cromwell’s Army,’ distinguishes the matchlock, 
the wheel-lock, and the snaphanse or flint-lock. ‘“... the wheel-lock, 
so called because the spark which fired the charge was produced by the 
friction of a small steel wheel against a piece of iron pyrites. The wheel 
was set in motion by a strong spring, which was wound up by a key, or, 
as it was more often called, a ‘spanner.’ Wheel-locks, however, were 
expensive, and liable to get out of order; for these reasons they were 
little used in the Civil Wars except for the carbines or pistois of the cavalry.” 
Chioiw.a(2nd ved: p. “8%. 


The Vote, ll. 58 sqq., p. 7: 

For as the Sun with his Male Heat doth render 
Nile’s muddy Slime fruitful, and apt t’engender, 
And daily to produce new kind of Creatures, 

Of various Shapes, and thousand differmg Features ; 
So is my Fancy quicken’d by the Glance 

Of his benign Aspect and Countenance ; 

It makes me pregnant and to superfete ; 

Such is the Vigor of his Beams and Heat. 


HOWELL’S LETTERS 41 


Book II., xxx., p. 423: Now, Melancholy is far more fruitful 
of thoughts than any other humour ; for it is like the mud of Nile, 
which, when that Hnigmatical vast River is got again to her 
former bed, engendereth divers sorts of new creatures, and some 
kind of Monsters. 


mee Ovid, “Met. I., 422 sqq.: 
Sic ubi deseruit madidos septemfluus agros 
Nilus et antiquo sua flumina reddidit alveo, 
Aetherioque recens exarsit sidere limus, 
Plurima cultores versis animalia glaebis 
Inveniunt, et in his quaedam modo coepta sub ipsum 
Nascendi spatium, quaedam inperfecta suisque 
Trunca vident numeris, et eodem in corpore saepe 
Altera pars vivit, rudis est pars altera tellus. 
Again in 434-437: 
Ergo ubi diluvio tellus lutulenta recenti 
Solibus aetheriis altoque recanduit aestu, 
Edidit innumeras species, partimque figuras 
Rettulit antiquas, partim nova monstra creavit. 


The Vote, ll. 88-90, p. 8: 
I have had Audience (in another Strain) 
Of Hurope’s greatest Kings; when German Main, 
And the Cantabrian Waves I cross’d. 
Jacobs explains ‘“‘ Cantabrian Waves’ as St. George’s Channel. The 


Bay of Biscay is meant, the reference being to Howell’s mission to Spain 
an 1622, on the Vineyard affair. 


The Vote, ll. 145, 146, p. 10: 
Sound Sleeps, green Dreams be his, which represent 
Symptoms of Health, and the next day’s content. 


Compare Andrew Marvell, ‘The Garden,’ stanza vi., ad fin. : 


Annihilating all that’s made 
To a green thought in a green shade. 


To the knowing Reader touching Familiar Letters, ll. 65, 66, 
ee LD: 
Words vanish soon, and Vapour into Air, 
While Letters on Record stand fresh and fair. 


A version of the medieval saying: 
Vox audita perit, littera scripta manet. 


To the knowing Reader touching Familiar Letters, ll. 77 sq., 
m. 15; 


42 HOWELL’S LETTERS 


Speech is the Index, Letters Ideas are 
Of the informing Soul. 


Index est animi sermo, morumque fidelis 
Hand dubié testis. 
Palingenius, ‘ Zodiacus Vitae,’ I., 194 sq. 


W. H. D. Suringar, in his edition of Heinrich Bebel’s ‘ Proverbia 
Germanica’ (Leyden, 1879), no. 118, under ‘* Qualis homo, talis sermo,’’ 
quotes from Ian. Anysius, *Sententiae Morales,’ 80 (Basel, 1529): 

Oratio index animi cogitantis est. 

But the thought is very old. It was Socrates, according to Apuleius, 
‘Florida,’ 2, “‘qui, cum decorum adulescentem et diutule tacentem 
conspicatus foret: ‘ut te videam, inquit, aliquid et loquere.’ ”’ 

‘* Sententia haec”’ as a commentator on this remarks “‘ est vulgatissima : 
ex sermone homines agnosct.” 


Book I., Sect. 1, u1., p. 20, His Predecessor the Earl of Somerset 
hath got a Lease of 90 years for his Lite. 


William Howell (1638 ?-1683) employs a like metaphor in his ‘ Medulla 
Historiae Anglicanae ’ (1679), p. 216 in the ed. of 1712, ‘“‘ The Earl and his 
Countess were also arraigned and condemned, but had a Lease of their 
Lives granted them for Ninety Nine Years, yet so as never after to see the 
King’s Face more.” 

Jacobs, after mentioning that the Earl was respited, but kept in the 
Tower till 1622, and not definitely pardoned till 1625, adds, ‘“*‘ What the 
Lease of 90 years for his Life refers to, I have been unable to ascertain.”’ 

Where is the difficulty ? Howell, whether referring to Somerset’s 
respite from execution or anticipating the later pardon (the date he puts 
to the letter is 1 March, 1618), would appear to mean that the Life forfeited 
to the King has been granted again on a lease which will last for the rest 
of the Earl’s natural existence. 


Vitaque mancipio nulli datur, omnibus usu. 


(4 ») 


The figurative ‘“‘ new lease of life’’ is surely common enough. 


Book I., Sect. 1, 11., p. 20, “ . ... yet the subservient Instru- 
ments [of Overbury’s poisoning], the lesser Flies could not break 
thorow, but lay entangled in the Cobweb.” 

An allusion to the saying attributed to Solon in Diogenes Laertius, 
I. 2, 10, 58, todg ds vomwovsg toic, Ggayvioig Opoiovs’ xai yag éxeiva éay ey 
EumeoH TL HOvYor xal AoDEevéc, otéyewv, éav OF mEiCov, Olaxopay otyecOat. 

See Ménage’s note showing that Valerius Maximus, vii., 2, Hat. 14, and 
Plutarch, Life of Solon, 5, attribute it to Anacharsis, while in Stobaeus, 
‘ Florilegium,’ xlv., 25, a similar saying is given to Zaleucus. 


Book I., Sect. 1, u., p. 21, Sir Gervas Elways, Lieut. of the 
Tower. 


Jacobs writes that he “ had been appointed to supersede Sir William 
Wood.” This is an error or misprint. Helwys’s predecessor was Sir 
William Waad, or Wade. 


HOWELL’S LETTERS 43 


Book I., Sect. 1, iv., p. 23, But what will not one in Captivity iy 
(as Sir Walter was) promise, to regain his Freedom ? who would 4 
not promise, not only Mines, but Mountains of Gold, for Liberty ? A 


See “Aureos montes polliceri’”’? in Erasmus’s ‘ Adagia,’ and the 
uotations under ‘Mons’ (1) in A. Otto’s ‘Sprichwo6rter der Rémer.’ 
q ) 


momentiemoecs, | vii. p. 32, .. . the Oxonians and Can- ie 
tabrigians —— Bona si sua norint, were they sensible of their own ty 
Felicity, are the happiest Academians on Earth. 


O fortunatos nimium, sua si bona norint, 
Agricolas ! a 
Varo Geore tin, 458: 
iBook I Sect. l., x; p. 34: 
3 To Sir James Crofts, from the Hague. 


In a note on an earlier letter, I. 1, iv., p. 22, we are told that Sir James 
Crofts or Croft, a pensioner or member of Queen Elizabeth’s bodyguard, 
was a grandson of the elder Sir James, Controller of Queen Elizabeth’s 
household ; but an article in the Retrospective Review and a note of Sir 
Sidney Lee’s, in his edition of Lord Herbert of Cherbury’s Autobiography, it 
to both of which we are referred, say that he was the 3rd son of the 
Controller. The end of the present letter, in which Howell wishes “‘ that 
the Sun may make many progresses thro’ the Zodiac, before those comely 
gray Hairs of yours go to the Grave,”’ would, according to Jacobs, “‘ indicate i 
that it is the earlier Sir James who is addressed.”” But the date to Howell’s i 
letter is 3 June, 1619, and the elder Sir James died, according to the i 
oN... in 1590. 


Book f., Sect. 1, x., p. 34, This Prince (Maurice) was cast in 
a Mould suitable to the temper of this People. 

Prince Maurice did not become “‘ Stadholder of the United Provinces 
on the death of his father, 1584,’ as in Jacobs’s note. He was elected 


Stadholder of Holland and Zeeland on Nov. 1, 1585, and of Overyssel, | 
Utrecht and Gelderland in 1590. | 


Book I., Sect. 1, xv., pp. 41, 42, This Province [Normandy] 
is also subject to Wardships, and no other part of France besides ; 
but whether the Conqueror translated that Law to England from 
hence, or whether he sent it over from England hither, I cannot 
resolve you. 


_ The note “ Wardships, qy. wardmotes, courts held in each ward of a 
city ?”’ is entirely uncalled for, 
Book I., Sect. 1, xx., p. 54, Yours yovjoe: xai xtyjoe, J. H. 
Book II., x!vi., 440, I am still yours xt7jcer, tho’ I cannot be 
yorcer: for in statu quo nunc, | am grown useless and good for 


44 HOWELL’S LETTERS 


nothing, yet in point of possession I-am as much as ever—Your 
firm inalterable Servitor, 4 ee & 


Compare the beginning of Curius’s Letter to Cicero (Fam. vii. 29), 
S[i]v[ales] b[ene est]; sum enim yoryjoe: wév tuus, xtjoer dé Attici nostri. 


Book I., Sect. 1, xxvi., p. 62, Had I come time enough to have 
taken the Opportunity, I might have been made either Food for 
Haddocks, or turn’d to Cinders, or have been by this time a 
Slave in the Bannier at Algier, or tugging at an Oar. 


The N.E.D. quotes from Heywood’s ‘ Foure Prentises ’ “‘ I might haue 
fed the Haddockes.”’ Coryat, ‘ Crudities,’ ed. 1905, vol. 1., p. 152, describes 
his arrival in Calais, ‘‘ about five of the clocke in the afternoone, after I had 
varnished the exterior parts of the ship with the excrementall ebullitions 
of my tumultuous stomach, as desiring to satiate the gormandizing 
paunches of the hungry Haddocks.” 


Book I., Sect. 1, xxxi., p. 71, This made me think on that 
famous Ship at Athens. eo 


Jacobs is mistaken when he says that this ship went yearly to Crete in 
memory of Theseus’s victory over the Minotaur. Ii he had read with 
attention the passage of the ‘Phaedo’ which he mentions in his note, 
he would have seen that the vessel’s yearly voyage was to Delos, in fulfil- 
ment of the vow which Theseus was supposed to have made to Apollo. 
It was reputed to be the original ship which had once carried Theseus 
to Crete with the tribute of youths and maidens. The Athenian Theoris 
was thus being continually repaired, like the Venetian Bucentoro, and 
suggested to the Greek philosophers reflections like those in which 
Howell here indulges. For Plutarch in his Life of Theseus, ch. 23, tells 
us that it served as an example in discussing whether things that grow 
retain their identity. 


Book W., (Sect: yo xocets, ps 188 
To Robert Brown, Hsq., at the Middle-Temple ; from Venice. 


On p. xi. of his Preface to the volume containing the Introduction and 
Notes, Jacobs wrote, “‘ In my annotations, I have endeavoured to identify 
the many persons mentioned by Howell, and have for the most part been 
successful.” 

But Jacobs’s standard of identification, ike Wordsworth’s of intoxi- © 
«ation, was miserably low. In the present letter, though ‘‘ your Cousin 
Brown” (p. 79) draws from him the remark, “It is impossible to identify 
so common a name,”’ yet on the address “To Robert Brown, Hsq., at the 
Middle-Temple ’? we get the comment, ‘ Evelyn’s father-in-law was so 
called, also a person named in Warwick’s Memoirs, p. 282.”’ But Evelyn 
married the daughter of Sir Richard Browne, and the parliamentary officer 
mentioned in Warwick’s ‘Memoirs’ (afterwards a Baronet, and a well- 
known personage) was also Richard. 

Possibly, we will not say ‘‘ probably,” the Brown whom we have here 
‘was Robert, third son of John Browne of Frampton, Dorset, Knt., 


HOWELL’S LETTERS 45 


who was admitted to the Middle Temple on May 1, 1607, and called in 
1615-16. ‘Middle Temple Records,’ ed. by C. H. Hopwood, vol. ii., p. 477. 


Book I., Sect. 1, xxxviil., p. 84, . . . the Stoves of Anthony. 


It ought perhaps to be explained that these, which Howell here names 
among the “ chiefest ’’ antiquities of Rome, are the well-known Baths of 
Caracalla (M. Aurelius Antoninus), in the 8.E. quarter of the city. 


Book I., Sect. 1, xli., p. 92, Among other Customs they have 
in that Town [Genoa], one is, That none must carry a pointed 
Knife about him; which makes the Hollander, who is us’d to 
Snik and Snee, to leave his Horn-sheath and Knife a Ship-board 
when he comes ashore. 


Of “* Suik and Snee’”’ Jacobs offers the singular explanation ‘* Du. 
tool and knife,’ from what source is not apparent. But see the N.E.D. 
.s. “Snick or Snee,’’ which is shown to be an adaptation of the Dutch 
steken, to thrust, stick, and snijen, snijden, to cut, with later assimilation 
of the st- of the first to the sn- of the second. 

With Howell’s mention of this proclivity of the Dutch mariner may b2 
compared Marvell’s lines in his ‘ Character of Holland,’ 93 sqq.: 


Or what a spectacle the skipper gross, 
A water Hercules, butter Coloss, 
Tunned up with all their several towns of beer ; 
When, staggering upon some land, snick and sneer, 
They try, like statuaries, if they can 
Cut out each other’s Athos to a man, 

_ And carve in their large bodies, where they please, 
The arms of the United Provinces. 


Book I., Sect. 2, xii., p. 112, The News is, that the Prince 
Palsgrave, with his Lady and Children, are come to the Hague in 
Holland. ... The old D. of Bavaria’s Uncle is chosen Elector 
and Arch-sewer of the Roman Empire in his place (but, as they 
Say, in an imperfect Diet), and with this Proviso, that the trans- 
ferring of this Election upon the Bavarian shall not prejudice the 
next Heir. 


Jacobs’s note on ‘The old D. of Bavaria’s Uncle” is “‘ ‘ Whatever 
that may mean,’ says Prof. Gardiner ; I will not rush in where he fears to 
tread.”’ Quite so; but if Mr. Jacobs and Professor Gardiner had con- 
sulted the Ist edition of the letters in this place, they would have seen 
that the text runs, ‘‘ The old D. of Bavaria his Uncle.” Is not this a 
description of Maximilian as the Pfalzgraf Friedrich’s uncle, which in 
some later edition was changed through a misunderstanding into ‘“‘ D. of 
Bavaria’s Uncle”? ? Howell, as his editor points out elsewhere, used 
“Uncle” at times to denote a less precise relationship. The Duke of 
Bavaria was brother-in-law of Wolfgang Wilhelm of Pfalz-Neuburg, who 
was the nearest Agnate to the reigning family at Heidelberg. Besides, as 
Ferdinard II. had transferred the Kur to Max and his heirs by a secret 
document on Sept. 22, 1621, and the public Belehnwng had taken place at 


46 HOWELL’S LETTERS 


a Reichsdeputationsloge at Regensburg on Feb. 25, 1623 (see the ‘ Allge- 
meine Deutsche Biographie’), Howell could not be referring to any one 
but the Bavarian Duke. 


Book I., Sect. 2, xv., p. 117, So that at last matters succeeding 
ill with him [the Duke of Alva], and having had his Cousin Pacecio 
hang’d at Flushing-Gates, after he had trac’d out the Platform 
of a Citadel in that Town also, he receiv’d Letters of Revocation 
from Spain. 


We find this note in Jacobs: ‘“‘ Pachicho or Paceotti, an Jtalian 
engineer and architect of the Antwerp citadel, but not related in any way 
to Alva, nor was Alva the cause of his death, as he was put to death during 
an émeute at Flushing (Motley, u. 361).” 

Howell nowhere says that Alva was the cause of his death. The 
obvious meaning of “ having had his Cousin hang’d ”’ is that he suffered 
the misfortune or indignity of having him thus executed. 

As to the relationship between the two men, we begin to distrust 
Jacobs’s denial of any connexion when we find Famianus Strada in his 
‘De Bello Belgico,’ Decas I., lib. vii., p. 360, ed. Lugd. Bat., 1645, describing 
the victim of the Flushing outrage as “ Tribunus Alvarus Pacechus Albani 
propinquus.”’ Presently we notice that with Strada this officer, Alvarus 
Pacechus, Alva’s kinsman, has an existence independent of ‘‘ Franciscus 
Paciottus bellicorum operum machinator.” We now feel that some 
details in Motley’s account are breaking down—‘* That vengeance soon 
found a distinguished object. Pacheco, the chief engineer of Alva,” &c. 
‘“Treslong . . . was especially incensed against the founder of the Antwerp 
citadel.’? Our doubts are finally confirmed on consulting A. J. van der 
Aa’s ‘ Biographisch Woordenboek der Nederlanden.’ According to this 
authority, Pedro Alvarez Pacheco was of the noble family of Alvarez, from 
which Fernando Alvarez de Toledo, Duke of Alva, whose grandmother was 
a Maria Pacheco, was also descended. This unfortunate Pacheco has, we 
learn, been called out of his name in a variety of ways, and Francesco 
Paciotto of Urbano, the engineer, has been confounded with him by most 
historians and named accordingly. Hnough! 


Book I., Sect. 2, xv., p. 120, .. and this was the Bone 
that Secretary Walsingham told Q. Elizabeth he would cast the 
K. of Spain, that should last him twenty years, and perhaps 
make his teeth shake in his head. 


See Sir Robert Naunton’s ‘ Fragmenta Regalia,’ p. 37 (Arber), at the — 
end of the chapter on Sir Fr. Walsingham, 

‘** And it is a likely report that they father on him, at his return, That 
he said unto the Queen, with some sensibility of the Spanish designs on 
France : Madam, I beseech you be content not to fear ; The Spaniard hath 
@ great appetite, and an excellent digestion, but I have fitted him with a 
bone for this twenty yeares, that your Majesty shall have no cause to 
doubt him ; provided that if the fire chance to slack which I have kindled, 
you will be ruled by me, and now and then cast in some English fewel, 
which will revive the flame.” 


HOWELL’S LETTERS 47 


Book I., Sect. 3, i., p. 147, . . he saith, that he must apply 
to them a Speech of Queen Elizabeth’s to an Ambassador of 
Poland, Legatum expectavimus, Heraldum accepimus; We 
expected an Ambassador, we have receiw’d a Herald. 


See the account printed in John Nichols, ‘ Progresses of Queen Eliza- 
beth,’ vol. u., ‘Hmbassador from the King of Poland, 1597.’ 

“The Polonian ambassador, being of a blunt and harsh behaviour, 
delivered his mind accordingly ... whereat the Queene, being much 
amazed, was driven into admiration, and unawares and unprovided on 
the sodaine what to say, with a sharp look and earnest mind, very learnedly 
and eloquently spake these words: ‘Oh, quam decepta fui; expectavi 
legationem, tu vero querelam mihi adduxisti. Per literas accepi te esse 
legatum, inveni vero heraldum; “numquam in vita mea audivi talem 
orationem, ’’ &c. ‘“* Never heard such a speech in my life!’’ There is 
perhaps. just a touch of the undergraduate’s *‘ Sed hae observationes neque 
‘hic sunt neque illic’’ about the royal style. 


Book I., Sect. 3, xix., p. 171, Mr. Vaughan of the Golden-Grove 
and I were Comrades and Bedfellows here [at Madrid] many 
months together: his Father, Sir John Vaughan, the Prince his 
Controller, is lately come to attend his Master. 


Jacobs identifies ‘‘ Mr. Vaughan of the Golden Grove ”’ with “ Sir W. 
Vaughan (1577-1640), author of The Golden Grove, an allegorical poem in 
three books, 1600. See also 4 Arch. Camb. xii., 274.” 

Sir John Vaughan he declares to be ‘‘the Judge (1608—74)” and 
mentions that the ‘Golden Grove’ was dedicated to him. 

We are thus asked to believe that Sir John was the dedicatee of a book 
published eight years before he was born, and the father of a son over 30 
‘years his senior ! 

Jacobs too hastily assumed that “ of the Golden Grove ’”’ referred to 
the book bearing that title instead of the family seat in Carmarthenshire 
after which the book was named. 

Sir John Vaughan, Controller of the household to Prince Charles, 
was not the same as the judge. He was already, at the date to which 
Howell assigns this letter, 13 Aug. 1623, Baron Vaughan in the peerage of 
Ireland. “He was created Earl of Carbery in 1628. His eldest son Richard, 
afterwards the second Earl and patron of Jeremy Taylor, was apparently 
Howell’s comrade in Madrid. See Mr. D. Lleufer Thomas’s lives of both 
these Vaughans in the D.N.B. under Vaughan, Richard (1600-1686). 

The author of the ‘ Golden Grove ’ was William, son of Walter Vaughan 
and younger brother to the first Earl of Carbery. The ‘Golden Grove’ is 
not an allegorical poem but a prose work. 


Book I., Sect. 5, xi., p. 260, This makes me think of the Lady 
Southwell’s news from Utopia, that he who sweareth when he 
playeth at dice, may challenge his damnation by way of purchase. 


Query No. 11 on p. 808 of Jacobs’s edition is ‘‘ What was Lady South- 
well’s news from Utopia ? ”’ 

Sée ‘New and Choise Characters, of seuerall Authors: Together with 
that exquisite and vnmatcht Poeme, The Wife, written by Syr Thomas 


b) 


48 HOWELL’S LETTERS 


Ouerburie. With the former Characters and conceited Newes, All in one 
volume. With many other things added to this sixt impression. Mar. 
—non norunt haee monumenta mori.’ London, 1615. 

On sign. H3 recto begin ‘Certaine Edicts from a Parliament in : 
Eutopia ; Written by the Lady Southwell,’ and on H4 recto is “‘ Item, hee : 
that sweareth when hee loseth his mony at dice, shall challenge his 
damnation, by the way of purchase.” 

These ‘ Edicts ’ were included in the miscellaneous additions in several 
later issues of Overbury’s works. They are rejected, with other pieces, 
by E. F. Rimbault in his ed. of Overbury’s ‘ Miscellaneous Works,’ 1856. 


Book II., xxviii, p. 420: 
To Mr. T. Jackson, at Madrid. 


On this Jacobs observes *“‘ Too common a name to identify with any 
certainty, but probably a relative of Jackson, Bishop of London, to whom 
H. dedicated the Latin version of his England’s Tears (see Bibl. List, No. 37 
[should be 17]}).” 

This will never do. There was a Jackson, Bishop of London in the 
latter half of last century, said to have been an authority on the sinfulness 2 
of little sins, but in 1646, the year of Howell’s dedication, the Bishop of 
London was, of course, Juxon. Yet in the Bibliographical List, Appendix, 
p. Ixxxvil., we again read that No. 17 is dedicated to Jackson, Bp. of 
London. 

The explanation of this extraordinary mistake seems to be that Jacobs. 
was misled by the unusual spelling of the Bishop’s name as Juckson in the 
dedication of ‘ Angliae Suspiria.’ In the British Museum copy (possibly in 
others) the impression of the wu is very faint, and a careless reader would 
readily mistake the word. That the title, &c., were noted from the Brit. Mus. 
copy is very probable, as against the date 1646 an early hand has written 
Feb. 6th and altered 1646 to 1645. Jacobs appends to his transcript of the 
title ‘‘ Appeared 6th Feb., 1646.”’ This title as printed in Jacobs’s list is. 
defaced by several errors or misprints. Plufquam of the original appears: 
as phifquam (!), miferé as miferi, dilacerantur as delacerantur, Flere as 
Heu (heu ! indeed), and Excudit as Exaudit. It might be unfair to say, 
‘* Ab uno disce omnes,’’ but one’s faith is grievously shaken. 


ihe ee Se eg 


Book IL, lxii., p. 488, Let me hear once more from you before 
you remove thence, and tell me how the squares go in Flanders. 


ce 


Jacobs’s comment on “squares”’ is ‘‘ The only meaning which suits 
the context is the application to bodices with SqUAES opening in front, used. 
here for the ladies generally.”’ 

Out, hyperbolical fiend! talkest thou nothing but of ladies? — 
The N.E.D. defines this figurative meaning of “squares”? as = affairs, 
events, matters, proceedings, a sense found only in the phrase “‘ how (the) 
squares go,’ which is very common in the 17th century. A reference is 
given to Howell’s ‘The True Informer.’ Skeat, ‘Tudor and Stuart 
Glossary,’ has ‘“‘ How go the squares ? how goes the game? The reference 
is to the chessboard.”’ | 

Though these helps were not to be had in 1892, yet Johnson at least 
might have kept the editor from his blunder. 

EDWARD BENSLY. 


(To be continued.) 


6. FURTHER NOTES ON ‘THE OWL AND 
THE NIGHTINGALE’ 


(1) THE RELATION OF THE PoEM TO THE RELIGIOUS AND D1IDACTIC 
LITERATURE OF THE AGE 


ONE of the most interesting features of The Owl and the Nightingale 
is the way in which it reflects the intellectual activities of the age. 
Written in all probability in the opening years of the thirteenth 
century, it illustrates in remarkable fashion most of the literary 
interests of the time—the contemporary delight in fables, natural 
history and allegory, the fondness for such things as debates 
and proverbs, the close links that existed between law and 
literature, above all, the growing interest felt in the new love- 
poetry of France—and traces of all these things are to be found 
in the poem. 

But while such elements as these are doubtless of the greatest 
interest to modern readers, they cannot be said to exhaust the 
characteristic features of the poem. It was an age in which the 
moralistic tradition prevailed in literature, when most of the 
works written were of a religious or didactic kind: and The Owl 
and the Nightingale may be regarded as further representing its 
age in the reflection it gives of the prevailing literary tradition 
as well as of the religious literature then so popular. In many 
respects, it is true, the poem seems to offer a direct contrast to 
works of that kind. Its object would seem to have been to 
challenge the religious tradition in literature, to plead for the 
recognition of the secular love-theme in poetry: while in tone 
and form alike, it is vastly different from anything else then being 
written in the vernacular. Yet the poet is unable to escape 
entirely from the tradition he challenges: his work throughout 
bears the impress of the spirit of the age. In his discussion of 
the two kinds of poetry, for instance, it is the moralistic argument 
that is his test and touchstone: his work, moreover, contains 
many religious commonplaces, reminiscent of the orthodox 

A.S.—VOL. IV. 49 E 


50 NOTES ON ‘THE OWL AND THE NIGHTINGALE ’ 


thought and doctrine of the time : while his methods of exposition 
are also notable as being characteristic of the religious writers of 
his age. 

(a) In the first place, then, the poem reflects the moralistic 
tradition in literature. According to the medieval theory, built 
up on patristic teaching, the controlling principle of all intellectual 
effort was man’s desire for the kingdom of Heaven: and from this 
it followed that the only sort of literature which counted was that 
which prepared men foz the heavenly life and so led to their 
salvation. This theory became for medieval writers the test of 
all literature: and it is the test applied in The Owl and the 
Nightingale to the two kinds of poetry considered, viz. religious 
poetry represented by the singing of the Owl, and secular love- 
poetry represented by the Nightingale’s song. Thus the Owl, 
to begin with, claims for her didactic songs, that they urged men 
to do penance and to weep for their sins (ll. 860 ff.): that they 
filled good men with longing for the heavenly life, while evil men 
they inspired with fear of the terrors to come (ll. 886 ff.). Else- 
where it was argued that such songs were free from all wantonness 
(ll. 535 ff.) : that they reminded men of the troubles and vexations 
of life (ll. 1190 ff.): and that they also made use of the sacred 
writings, as well as the symbolical method of conveying religious 
‘truths (ll. 1207 ff.). The Owl's defence is therefore based on 
moralistic grounds : her songs, so she claimed, made for edifying, 
and were therefore of the most valuable kind. But the Night- 
ingale’s plea on behalf of the new love-poetry rests also on much 


the same basis. Her main arguments are that her songs en- 


couraged men to sing, thus preparing them for the songs of — 
-Heaven (ll. 735 ff.): that although her songs were songs of love, 
yet honourable love was their theme (Il. 1347 ff.): and that men 
from her might learn that earthly passion lasts but for a season 
(ll. 1449 ff.). Incidentally, it is true, she hints at arguments of 
a more aesthetic kind, as when she claims that her love-songs are 
more artistic than the didactic songs of the Owl (ll. 790 ff.), or 
that her main object is to bring delight to men (ll. 437 ff., 737 ff., 
986 ff.). But, in general, it is the didactic value of her singing 
that is emphasised : for it was only in this way that the case for 
the new secular poetry could be brought home to men. And 
here, under the guise of allegory,.we have the first discussion on 
poetry in English. With that discussion English criticism may, 
in a sense, be said to begin : and it embodies, clearly enough, the 


NOTES ON ‘THE OWL AND THE NIGHTINGALE’ 51 


moralistic theory of literature which formed part of the twelfth 
century literary tradition. 

(b) But the poem does more than reflect the current views 
with regard to literature: it has also abundant traces of the 
actual religious thought of the time. At every turn may be found 
religious commonplaces, ideas, and phrases, reminiscent of the 
homiletic works of the age: so that in spite of its secular objec- 
tive, the poem reflects clearly the religious spirit of the age. The 
most obvious example of all is perhaps the passage dealing with 
the Seven Deadly Sins (ll. 1395 ff.), for there the orthodox 
doctrine is expounded in all its details. There is the usual 
division into sins carnal and sins spiritual (ll. 1395-6 note 3): 
the usual condemnation of sins of the spirit in particular (I. 1410 
note). The conceptions of Envy (1. 1402 note) and Sloth (1. 1400 
note) are similar to those set forth in The Ancren Riwle: while 
the phrase “companions of devils’ (1. 1412 note) is one that is 
elsewhere associated with the sin of pride. But, apart from this, 
use is frequently made of other familiar material. Sometimes 
a doctrine is reproduced with some amount of detail, as when the 
Owl explains that tears, not mere singing, can alone bring a man 
to heaven, and she mentions, by the way, the four kinds of tears 
that are necessary to salvation (ll. 865-86 note). More commonly, 
however, reference of a more fleeting kind is made to religious 
thoughts and sentiments which were doubtless familiar to the 
poet's contemporaries, if we may judge from parallel places found 
in the religious works of the time. Thus, there is the Night- 
ingale’s assertion that ‘man was born for the bliss of Heaven ’ 
(ll. 716-7 note): likewise the statements made with regard to 
the virtue of moderation (ll. 351 ff. note) and to the evil effects 
of anger on human judgment (ll. 945-50 note), though such 
sentiments, it is true, also formed part of the popular wisdom. 
In the descriptions of the envious malignant man (il. 245 ff. note, 
ll. 421 ff.), however, we have passages which recall the character- 
sketches in The Ancren Riwle: the reference to the law of the 
old Dispensation, the olde laze (1. 1037 note) may be paralleled 
in many of the contemporary homilies: while the statement 
that follows as to the duties of the wise husbandman (ll. 1039 ff. 
note) would seem to have been taken from a twelfth century 
homily or else from a passage out of the teaching of Gregory. 

(c) In yet a third way does the poem betray the influence of 


1 The references throughout are to the notes below in section (2). 


52 NOTES ON ‘THE OWL AND THE NIGHTINGALE ” 


contemporary religious writings, and that is in the methods of 
exposition employed by the poet. There are, broadly speaking, 
two methods characteristic of the religious teaching of the Middle 
Ages. One is the method by which a given statement is empha- 
sised or illustrated by figures of speech—by similes, analogies, 
proverbs, and the like: the other method is that in which the 
exemplum or short story is used for that particular purpose. 
Up to the middle of the thirteenth century, the former method 
prevailed in vernacular writings, though instances of exempla 
are found, more especially in the Latin works of contemporary 
Englishmen like John of Salisbury and Walter Map. With the 
coming of the preaching Friars, however, the exemplum became 
the more popular device : and from then on, it entered into most 
of the medieval religious teaching. 

In this method of exposition The Owl and the Nightingale 
follows, in the main, the vernacular practice of the time. A 
copious use is made of figures of speech: whereas there are but 
two instances of the exemplum. Of the latter, the first example 
is found in Il. 99-138, where the fable of the Owl and the Falcon? 
is related by way of illustrating the general truth that “ Nature 
will out.’ The second instance occurs in the Nightingale episode 
(ll. 1049 ff.), into which each of the disputants reads a different 
moral. The Owl quotes it to illustrate the evil effects of love- 
songs, while the Nightingale claims that the story bears out the 
value of her singing. 


It is, however, in the figures of speech used by the poet that 


we find his ehemacterctic rhetorical devices. He makes use not 
so much of the stories technically known as exempla but rather 
of those similes and analogies which were common in patristic 
writings and Latin homilies, and which were often more effective 


than the cumbrous exempla. Thus, instances of similes are to — 


be found in Il. 245 ff., 413 ff;, 421 i, 917 f+ 1665 fie and eles 


where: and all of them, it will be noted, are taken from ~ 


life and Nature. Instances of analogy occur in the following 
places : 

(a) The Owl, in spite of her lurking habits by day, claims to 
be able to see: and she enforces her claim by pointing to the 
ways of the hare (ll. 373 ff.). 


‘See J. A. Mosher, The Exemplum in the Early Religious and Didactic 
Interature of England. New York, 1911. (Ch. L.) 
2 See note ll. 99-138 below. 


NOTES ON ‘THE OWL AND THE NIGHTINGALE’ 53 


(b) Phe Owl condones the filthy habits of owlets by recalling 
simular habits in animals and infants (Il. 629 ff.). 

(c) The Nightingale illustrates the fact that skill counts for 
more than brute strength by pointing out the effects of strategy 
in wariare (ll. 765 ff.), of tricks in wrestling (ll. 795 ff.), of the 
cat’s device when chased by the hounds (ll. 809 ff.): whereas 
the horse’s great strength ee es cannot prevent it from 
becoming subject to man (ll. 772 ff.). 

(d) The foreknowledge of he Oral so it is claimed, does not 
involve her guilt: a man, for instance, is not guilty of wrong- 
doing because he sees in advance the fate awaiting a blind man 
who is heading straight for a ditch (ll. 1237 ff.). 

(e) The Owl is said to know nothing of astrology, though she 
may gaze at the stars. Thus an ape may stare at a book and 
yet be none the wiser (ll. 1325 ff.). 

({) Good things may be abused. Gold, for instance, may buy 
wickedness, and weapons in the hands of evil men may lead to 
murder (ll. 1365. ff.). 

Thus does the poet employ comparisons and analogies to 
furnish illustrations, to add to the interest and to establish his 
various points: and in using such devices he was but following 
the practice of his time. His illustrations, it is true, are taken 
from sources of his own: they are drawn, not from classical or 
biblical works, nor from the fanciful natural history of the 
Bestiaries, but from the actual life of animals and men. Occasion- 
ally he may make use of a well-worn comparison, as when, for 
instance, he employs the wrestling analogy (ll. 795 ff. note). 
But in the main his treatment is fresh and original: while his 
methods are those of the religious and didactic writers of his age. 


(2) Notes on THE Text ! 


99-138. The treatment of the Owl and the Falcon fable is 
notable as being that employed later on in Bozon’s Contes 
Moralisés. Thus the fable is preceded by the “sentence ” 
(ll. 99-100) which it is designed to illustrate : it is followed by a 
moral explanation (ll. 129-34), in which the fable is treated as a 


1 Abbreviations emploved in the Notes: 
O.H#.H. = Old English Homilies, ed. R. Morris (Ist and 2nd Series). 
E.E.T.S. London, 1868. 
A.R. = Ancren Riwle, ed. J. Morton. Camden Soc., London, 1853. 
References to the pages in those works. 


Hy 


54 NOTES ON ‘THE OWL AND THE NIGHTINGALE’ 


parable, and is then supported by proverbs (ll. 135—9) correspond- 
ing to scriptural passages in Bozon. 

165. spene=‘spend.’ This form is common in contemporary 
writings. Cf. spenen, speneds, O.H.H. 85: spene, O.H.H. 105. 

945-6. Ci. A.R. 212. Uor aif e1 sev wel oder*des wel 
nonesweis ne muwen heo loken piderward mid riht eie of gode 
heorte. 

351 ff. Cf. OHH. 101. Alle -oferdone pmge -denaag,- amd 
imetnesse is alre mihta modor. 

439, 443. lilie... rose. For the conventional character 
of this description, cf. the description of Paradise: per blowes 
inne blisse blostmen hwite and reade (O.E.H. 193, |. 37): also, 
Heo beod so read so rose so hwit so pe lilie (zbid., 1. 53). 

643-5. For a religious house compared to a bird’s nest, 
rough on the outside and soft within, cf. A.f. 134. Nest is 
herd, of prikinde pornes widuten, and widinnen nesche and softe. 

716-7. Cf. O.E.H.7. Ne we ne beod iboren for to habbene 
nane prudu . . . we beod on pisse liue for ernien pa eche blisse 
in houeneriche. 

795 ff. The tricks of wrestlers supplied the religious writers 
of the time with many of their metaphors and analogies. Thus. 
the subtlety of the Devil in tempting anchoresses is illustrated 
in The Ancren Riwle. He is represented as saying: ichulle don 
ase pe wrastlare deé—ich chulle wrenchen hire piderward ase 
heo mest dreded and worpen hire odere half (=on the other side) 
and breden uerliche adun er he lest wene (throw her violently down 
before she is aware) (A.R. 222). Elsewhere the tricks of the 
wrestler, such as the hip-throw and the falling stratagem, are: 
described in rather more detail, see A.R. 280. 

865 ff. The doctrine of tears is here set forth. Man must 
weep for his own sins (I. 865), and for the sins of others (1. 885) : 
also on account of his longing for Heaven (1. 881) and because of 
the sorrow everywhere around (1. 884). With this should be 
compared O.H.H. 159: pe tere pet mon wep% for his agen sunne : 
. . . p2 ter pat mon schet for his emcristenes sunne, . . . pe ter 
pat mon wepé for lade of disse hue, . . ., pe ter pat mon wepsd 
for longinge to heouene. 

945-50. For the effects of anger on man’s judgment, cf. 
Wredde pe hwule pat hit ilest, ablended so pe heorte pet heo ne 
mei sod iknowen . . . heo bireaued and binimed mon his rihte 
wit (A.&. 120). 


NOTES ON ‘THE OWL AND THE NIGHTINGALE’ 55 


1007. jihs, flehs, cf. Petrus wes fixere (O.H.H. 97): also 
flehs, O.H.H. 187; flehsliche, O.H.H. 185; flechs, A.R. 8. 

1037. For reference to the olde laze, cf. O.E.H. 9, 15, ete. 
It was usual to contrast the severity of the old with the gentleness 
of the new Dispensation. 

1039 ff. For a parallel. quotation, cf. O.H.H. 133. Sed 
obseruandum est quod prudens sator obseruat et glebe aptitu- 
dinem et temporis opportunitatem: hit is to witene pet alrihtes 
swa alse pe wise teolie penne he wule sawe nimed zeme of twam 
pingen, an is hwesder pet lond beo bicumelic to pe sede... . 
The passage is apparently taken from Gregory’s works (cf. ut 
ait Gregorius, bid.. 131). 

1062. mid wilde horse were todrawe =‘ (thou) shouldst be torn 
asunder by wild horses.’ The poet is here following Neckam’s 
account of the nightingale story (see De Nat. Rerum I. 51), accord- 


ing to which the punishment decreed for that hapless bird was 


that she should be torn to pieces by four horses (quatuor equis 
distrahi). This feature of the story is peculiar to Neckam: 
and the association of such a death-penalty with the Nightingale 
is not easy to explain. Possibly it represents a piece of uncritical 
learning : for Neckam himself quotes the case of Hippolytus as 
a parallel—Hippolytus, who was falsely accused of attempting 
to dishonour Phaedra and was subsequently dragged to death 
by his frightened steeds (instar Hippolyts Thesidae equis diripi). 
But this story does not supply a parallel episode: it can scarcely 
have suggested that ‘death by wild horses’ was part of the 
penal code of the ancients. On the other hand the idea seems 
‘to have been familiar in the twelfth century religious teaching. 
It was said to have formed part of the Jewish law, according to 
which a serious crime was punishable by death brought about 
either by wild horses or by stoning. Ina twelfth century homily, 
for instance, the following statement occurs in connection with 
the Jewish law: ‘3ef pu sungedest toward pine drihtene, and 
me hit mihte witen, nouper gold ne seoluer ne moste gan for pe 
(avail thee), ac me pe sculde nimen and al toteon mid horse 
‘oer pe al totoruion mid stane’ (O.H.H.7). It is not improbable 
that this or some similar passage may have supplied Neckam with 
the suggestion for his picturesque addition to the nightingale 
story. 
1128. sheueles=‘ scarecrow.’ Of similar formation (with 
n. sg. ending in s) are findles, fundles (invention), A.R. 6, 8, cf. 


56 NOTES ON ‘THE OWL AND THE NIGHTINGALE’ 


Dan findelse (see Str-Br): hudles, hudels (O.E. hidels), hiding- 
place. A.R. 146: wetles (vessel), A... 164. 

1169. budel= preacher.” -Cf. O.HH. 95;. “sil pes hana 
gast ne leard pes monnes heorte . . . on idel beod pes budeles 
word widutan icleopde’ (. . . in vain will the preacher’s words 
be uttered). 

1273-4. Cf. O.H.H. 5, ‘pes pe we heoueden mare wele on 
pisse liue pes we ahte to beon pe admoddre.’ 

1395-6. Cf. A.R. 194, “pe inre uondinge (temptation) is 
twofold—fleschlich and gostlich.’ 

1400. wrouehede=—‘ sloth; that vexed or irritable state of 
mind which prevents a man from doing deeds of goodness.’ 
This conception of Sloth was familiar in the twelfth century: 
cf. the definition of Deszdia (pat is slewée on englisc) as, ‘ penne 
pan mon ne lust on his live nan god don and .bié eure unzearu 
to elchere dusede’ (O.H#.H. 103). 

1402. murhpe of monne shonde. Cf. A.R. 200, where one 
of the offspring of Envy is said to be ‘ gledschipe of odres vuel : 
lauhwen oder gabben 3if him misbiueolle.’ 

1410. In A.R&. 194, it is pointed out that carnal temptations 
seem to be the greater because they are easily felt: but that 
spiritual temptations are more to be feared as being more odious 
in the sight of God. 

1412. deouel-imene, cf. deoulene fere (1. 932). Pride was 
commonly said to make men ‘companions of devils’: ef. 
O.H.H.103. Modinesse . . . pene mon make’, 3if heo modigas 
to swisée, pes deofles ifere, pe feol er ut of heouene purh modinesse. 


(3) SCRIBAL ERRORS IN THE C TEXT 


Amongst the scribal errors found in the C text of the poem, 
the most important are those which arose out of the confusion 
of similarly-formed letters. Such errors were by no means 
peculiar to the C scribe: they were in fact common to most of 
the MSS. of the period. Napier in his O.H#. Glosses (p. xxxi.), 
for instance, points to the existence of similar mistakes in slightly 
earlier texts: while in The Old English Homilies of the twelfth 
and thirteenth centuries, the same errors again are present. 
They were, in short, the natural result of careless copying of the 
handwriting of the time: and their prevalence is illustrated by 
the following examples taken from The O.E. Homilies :— 


NOTES ON ‘THE OWL AND THE NIGHTINGALE’ 57 


( (d) written for h: ex. purd (for purh), 49, 341; ped (for peh), 


2) YP 
Guero; -pe (for he), 5, 7. 

(b) h written for p: ex. wurh (for wurp), 73, 8; henne (for penne), 
go; 2. 


(c) w and p confused : ex. wu (for pu), 7, 16; pe (for we), 23, 12; 
wunres (for punres), 43, 36; wenien (for penien), 109, 21. 

(d) ¢ and r confused : ex. ridan (for tidan), 115, 29; der (for det), 
205, 3. 
(e) m, n and u confused : ex. sunt (for smit), 13, 7; zene (for zeue), 
19, 4; slande (for slaude), 19, 15; earned (for earuwed), 21, 11; strenies 
(for stremes), 41, 34. 

(f) d written for d: ex. segged (for segged), 3, 9; beod (for beod), 
aa tadeo (for ladved), 101, 25. 

(g) v written for wu (n): cf. stutted (for stinted), 267, 1 ; strotige (for 
stronge), 15, 16, where one of the short strokes forming wu (n) has been 
mistaken for f. 


(4) THe J MS. anp THomas WILKINS 


The actual date of the gift of the J text to Jesus College, 
Oxford, is mentioned in a memorandum which appears in the 
handwriting of the donor (Thos. Wilkins) at the end of a volume 
containing the Historiae Brytannicae Defensio, by Sir J. Price 
(and two other works), now in the possession of Principal J. H. 
Davies of University College of Wales, Aberystwyth, to whom 
I am indebted for the information and for permission to make 
use of the same. The memorandum is as follows :— 


Memorandum that on Munday y® 9 of January 1693 I gave 
three velom M.S.°* to Jesus College Library and sente them up with 
Rees Bowen. 

All three new bound and claspt. 

1. One large thicke 4° a very necessary Canon Law-book. Latine. 

2. One other 4 being 17 of Brittish storyes and written for 

Griffydd ab Llen, ab Trehaiarn of Cantref maior now in 
Carmarthenshire An D™ 1346. 
3. An Antient Cronicle ab Ao 900 usque ad Afium 1444. Latine. 
And a Saxon Manuscript bound with it 
Being y* Poetry of M' Johan 
of Guildeuorde now 
called Gilford. 


From this it would appear that the donor of the MS. attributed 
all the poems in the MS. (including The Owl and the Nightingale) 
to John of Guildford—an assumption which was probably based 


1'The references are to page and line in O.2#.H. 


58 NOTES ON ‘THE OWL AND THE NIGHTINGALE ’ 


on a statement made on ‘a broaken leaf’ of the MS., as it came 
into the donor’s hands, and afterwards copied by him on f. 228 r. 
of the MS. In connection with The Owl and the Nightingale, 
however, Wilkins’ assertion would seem to have been a mere 
guess ; and the case for John of Guildford as author of that 
particular poem has been elsewhere discussed at some length. 1 
Concerning Thos. Wilkins himself but little is known. In 
1641 he matriculated at Oxford (Jesus College), received the 
B.C.L. degree in 1661, and in the meantime had become Rector 
of Gelligaer, Glamorgan, in 1661.2. In March 1667 he was already 
‘Beatae Mariae super Montem rector,’ * when he was admitted 
to the canonry or prebend of Llangwm in the Cathedral Church 
of Llandaff. On June 23, 1668, he was admitted to the rectory 
of Llanmaes,* while still remaining rector B.M. super Montem : 
for on September 9, 1699, one, Thomas Collins, was inducted to 
the rectory of St. Marychurch, which was described as having 
become vacant through the death of the last incumbent, Thos. 


Wilkins ® —an event which took place in 1698.7 
J. W. H. ATKINS. 


1 See Atkins, Owl and Nightingale, Intro. § 5. 

2See Foster, At. Ox: Fasti 11, 252. 

3 St. Mary Hill or St. Marychurch, now attached to Llandough. 

4See Llandaff Records, vol. iii. (Acts of the Bishops of Llandaff, ii. 
and ii.). Cardiff, 1909, p. 25. 

2 THONG, oy AS: 

6 Ibid., pp. 139-40. 7 See Foster, loc. cit. 


7. THE ARTHURIAN EMPIRE IN THE ELIZA- 
BETHAN POETS 


It was in the sixteenth century that Arthur received his special 
prominence as the chief hero of the British race, and it is interest- 
ing to examine into the causes which led the Elizabethans to: 
place him in that position. 

These causes were not in the main either poetical or historical, 
but political. The most important causes were three in number : 

(1) The ciaim that they inherited the blood of the ancient 
British line and were the prophesied restorers of the Arthurian. 
Empire was used to support the house of Tudor upon the English 
throne. 

(2) The claim that Great Britain had been’in the Arthurian 
days an Empire co-equal and coeval with that of Rome was. 
employed as a weapon against the papacy. 

(3) The claim that the Arthurian Empire had included the 
whole circuit of the British Isles—England, Wales, Scotland, 
and freland—was used as a foundation for the sixteenth century 
plan of an all-British unity. 

T will deal with these points in order. In the first place the 
importance given to the Arthurian legend was a piece of political. 
support for the Tudors. The Tudors had not a good title to 
the English crown and they very naturally supported their claim. 
by any means they could discover, and one of the most fruitful 
proved to be the ancient British prophecies. When Henry VII 
landed at Milford Haven he published a proclamation to the 
Welsh in which he claimed that the old Welsh prophecies, those 
of Merlin as interpreted by Cadwaladr and those of the Eagle, 
had announced the accession of the true Arthurian blood to the 
British throne. The Tudors were supported in Wales by a whole 
class of bards, known as the ‘ Tudor bards,’ who interpreted the 
so-called prophecies of Merlin and the Eagle in their favour. 

Drayton and Selden both testify to the great political import- 

59, 


60 THE ARTHURIAN EMPIRE 


ance attached to these prophecies, though the latter obviously 
takes them mainly as a curiosity. 

Selden says: ‘This Eagle (whose prophecies among the 
Britons, with the later of Merlin, have been of no less respect 
than the Sibyllines to the Romans) foretold the reverting of the 
Crown after the Britons, Saxons and Normans to the first again, 
which in Henry VII, grandchild to Owen Tyddour, hath been 
observed as fulfilled. This in particular is peremptorily affirmed 
by that Count Palatine of Basingstoke: “ Et aperte dixit 
tempus aliquando fore ut Britannium imperium denuo sit ad 
veteres Britannos post Saxonas et Normannos rediturum ”’ are 
his words of this Eagle.’ (Selden’s Notes to Polyolbion IT.) 

Selden goes on to explain that Merlin, as interpreted by 
‘Cadwaladr (Cedwallo), whose date he gives as about a.p. 700, 
promised the restitution of the Crown to the British. 

The Tudors were an extremely popular dynasty in England ; 
after a cruel and long-lasting civil war they had once more united 
the country, and this in itself was a service of the greatest 
importance and value ; the nation was disposed to lay all! possible 
stress on their Arthurian inheritance because it assisted their 
claim, and also because it surrounded them with the halo of 
romance. As Spenser, Drayton, Ben Jonson, and numerous 
other poets discovered, the Arthurian legend was admirable 
material for romance. ‘The personal popularity of the Tudors 
counted in the same direction. Henry VIII, however tyrannical 
he might be to his nobles, was admired by the nation at large, 
and Elizabeth was one of the most popular sovereigns who have 
ever occupied the throne, her genius giving a new lustre to 
monarchy itself. 

The Arthurian idea was also employed by the Tudors as a 
weapon against Rome. Henry VIII, in his Act of Supremacy, 
asserted that Britain had once been an Empire and declared 
this as a reason for claiming independence of Rome.! As asimple 
king he could not have claimed independence; as inheriting | 
an empire he could and did. The Arthurian idea thus became 
an important support to Protestantism, and this is the reason 
why Spenser makes “ Arthur ’ the centre of “The Faerie Queene.’ 
whose essential subject is the struggle of the true faith and of the 
British race against their enemies. 


1 The claim had been asserted as early as the reign of Richard II, but 
at was not stressed until the sixteenth century. 


THE ARTHURIAN EMPIRE 61 


There can be no doubt that the Spenserian view was Shake- 
speare’s also, for in ‘Cymbeline’ he makes his king refuse tribute 
to Rome on the ground that Britain was a great and a free 
empire, which took its laws not from Rome, but from one of its 
own British kings—the law-giver, Molmutius : 


‘Our ancestor was that Mulmutius which 
Ordain’d our laws, whose use the sword of Cesar 
Hath too much mangled ; whose repair and franchise 
Shall, by the power we hold, be our good deed, 
Though Rome be therefore angry. Mulmutius 

made our laws.’ 


And Cymbeline emphasises the fact that Cesar met with 
bitter opposition and that his claim to tribute was refused : 


‘his shipping— 
Poor ignorant baubles !—on our terrible seas, 
Like egg-shells moved upon their surges, crack’d 
As easily ’gainst our rocks: for joy whereof 
The famed Cassibelan, who was once at point— 
O giglot fortune !—to master Casar’s sword, 
Made Lud’s town with rejoicing fires bright 
And Britons strut with courage.’ 


This was the kind of argument that was always employed 


when the question of Roman ecclesiastical authority over Britain 


was discussed. 

In the third place the Arthurian idea was the foundation for 
sixteenth century imperialism. The Elizabethans had developed 
very strongly the ideal of British unity, and the Arthurian Empire 
in which they really and genuinely believed as a historic fact, 
was the model to which they looked back. The claim to Ireland 
was believed to have been far older than the time of Henry II ; 
they traced it back in fact to the Early Iron Age, and based it on 
two passages in Geoffrey of Monmouth’s history; one describes 
how a certain son of Belinus gave permission to some Spaniards, 
under a leader called Partholoim, to settle in Ireland, and how, 
in exchange for this permission, Ireland having previously been 
a waste and desolate island, the Spanish settlers swore obedience 
to the British kings. According to Geoffrey of Monmouth, 
Arthur inherited a claim over Ireland and this claim was acknow- 
ledged, for a king of Ireland paid tribute to him (Bk. X.) in 
company with other tributary kings. 

The Arthurian Empire involved equally a claim to rule over. 


62 THE ARTHURIAN EMPIRE 


Scotland. Geoffrey of Monmouth describes how a certain king— 
Eboracus or Ebrauc—founded York and also the fortresses of 
Dumbarton and Edinburgh. Arthur completed the conquest 
of Scotland :— 


‘He next led his army into Moray, where the Scots and Picts were 
beleaguered, for after they had thrice been defeated by Arthur and 
his nephew they fled into that province. When they had reached 
Loch Lomond they occupied the islands that be therein, thinking to 
find safe refuge. ... But small profit reaped they thereby for 
Arthur collected a fleet and went round about the inlets of the rivers 
for fifteen days together and did so beleaguer them as that they were 
famished to death of hunger.’ (Bk. IX.) 


Later on he is said to pardon Scotland and to hold a great 
Christmas festival at York to celebrate his triumph over the 
North. 

Nennius also represents Arthur as defending Scotland against 
the Saxons and fighting them even in the Caledonian forest. 

The general situation in the Elizabethan period can be best 
understood by realising that the Tudors had conceived the truly 
statesmanlike idea of uniting the four nations under one rule. 
They aimed at placating and pacifying the Welsh and did so 
most successfully, for the relations between Welsh and English 
in the sixteenth century were of the most genial kind, and the 
Welsh took an important part in the army and the navy and in 
general affairs. Henry VII, in marrying his daughter Margaret 
into Scotland, aimed at uniting the Scotch and English crowns ; 
the same plan was in Henry VIII’s mind when he endeavoured 
to procure the infant princess—Mary—to marry to his son, 
Prince Arthur, though he pursued his scheme with less wisdom 
and more violence. As we know Elizabeth made a long though 
disheartening attempt to establish her authority over Ireland. 

Under the circumstances it was natural that Elizabethan 
Englishmen should stress that element—the Celtic blood— 
which all four nations had in common and should use the 
Arthurian idea both for its poetic and for its political value. 

It is important to remember in this connection that the 
Stuarts, who also hada doubtful title to the throne,! laid just as 
much stress on their Arthurian succession ; in fact they claimed 
the right twice over, once by their descent from Margaret Tudor, 


1 The claim of James I had been twice invalidated by Act of Parlia- 
ment. 


THE ARTHURIAN. EMPIRE 63 


but also by their descent from Fleance, son of Banquo, who was 
said to have married the daughter of Llewelyn ap Griffith and 
so to have brought the blood of the genuine British line to the 
throne of Scotland. 

It was probably this story which suggested to Shakespeare 
the subject of ‘ Macbeth,’ for Macbeth was the unwilling agent 
by whom the Merlin prophecies were fulfilled and the true 
British line succeeded, first to the throne of Scotland and after- 
wards to the throne of England. 

It was Macbeth who, by slaying Banquo, compelled the 
flight of Fleance, who took refuge in Wales ; like the parents of 
{Edipus Macbeth fulfilled the prophecies by the very efforts he 
made to avert them. 

Drayton speaks of : 


Tudor, with fair winds from Little Britaine driven, 

To whom the goodly Bay of Milford shall be given, 

As thy wise prophets, Wales, fore-told his wished arrive, 
And how Lewellin’s line in him should doubly thrive. 
For from his issue sent to Albany before, 

Where his neglected blood his virtue did restore, 

He first unto himself in fair succession gain’d 

The Stewards nobler name, and afterwards attain’d 

The royal Scottish wreath... . 

This Stem, to Tudor’s joined ... . 

Suppressing every Plant, shall spread itself so wide 

As in his arms shall clip the Isle on every side 

By whom three severed realms in one shall firmly stand 
As Britain—founding Brute first monarchized the land.’ 4 


- Whatever we may think of the historical foundations of the 
Arthurian story there is no doubt that its use by the Elizabethans 
had a very great moral and political value. It helped them to 
grasp firmly what would otherwise have been a very difficult 
and novel idea—the idea of British unity. 

The Arthurian claim involved even more than this : * Geoffrey 
of Monmouth’s Arthur ruled over France as well as over England ; 
among those who were to pay homage to him were Leodogar, 
Earl of Boulogne; Bedevere the Butler, Duke of Normandy ; 
Borel of Maine; Kay the Seneschal, Duke of Anjou; Guitard 
of Poitou; the Twelve Peers of the Gauls, led by Guerin of 
Chartres ; Hoel, Duke of the Armorican Britains’ (Bk. IX.). 


1 See also my book: Macbeth, King Lear and Contemporary History. 


64 THE ARTHURIAN EMPIRE 


Now the Tudors took over from the Plantagenets the claini 
to the throne of France and, as is well known, they quartered 
the arms of France. This claim also could be worked into the 
Arthurian descent, but in the reign of Elizabeth it had practically 
relapsed and become obsolete and England devoted itself mainly 
to assisting the succession of Henry of Navarre. 

There can be little doubt that Shakespeare shared the general 
political views of his time. As we have already seen in the case 
of ‘Cymbeline,’ he laid great stress on the ° British,’ 7.e. the Welsh | 
descent, and he shows us the actual refusal of the Roman tribute. 
This particular defiance—the repudiation of the authority of 
Rome—was nearly always symbolic in the sixteenth century 
and should of itself suggest that Shakespeare was probably a 
Protestant. 

In ‘ Henry V’ we see that Shakespeare is quite plainly a believer 
in the unity of the British Isles. He introduces four soldiers, 
who are the representatives of the four nations: Gower the 
Englishman, McMorris the Irishman, Jamie the Scotchman, and 
Flueilen the Welshman ; ‘ Henry V’ has often been described as 
the epic of England in arms ; it would be more correct to describe 
it as the epic of Britain in arms. Professor Stanley Roberts has 
called my attention to the fact that the representation of these 
four nations in the army of Henry V is quite inappropriate to 
the reign of Henry V, and is obviously applicable only to Shake- 
speare’s own day. It is an excellent symbol for the unity of the 
four nations ; when we remember that the chorus of the play 
makes a marked and pointed compliment to Essex, who was at 
that very time (1599) attempting to subdue Ireland, we can see 
still more purpose in the scene of the four soldiers. 

Fluellen himself was’ probably suggested by the character of 
Sir Roger Williams, who had played a very prominent part in 
the English campaigns in France in aid of Henry of Navarre, 
and was a devoted friend and supporter of the Earl of Essex. 

This figure has all the appearance of being an affectionate 
study from reality, and it probably was. It is most likely that 
Shakespeare knew Sir Roger well. 

It is also to be observed that Shakespeare works up to ‘ Henry 
V’ through the two parts of ‘ Henry IV,’ and the whole trilogy 
shows us an attempt to achieve national unity through the 
person of anational king. Thus it is the chief fault of Henry’s 
rival—Hotspur—that he wishes to divide England into parts 


THE ARTHURIAN EMPIRE 65 


and invokes the aid of the Scotch and Welsh in order to do so; 
Henry frustrates Hotspur and achieves the unity of England, 
conquering Wales in the person of Owen Glyndwr, and Scotland 
as represented by Douglas. Owen Glyndwr was a great popular 
leader who really, by his rebellion, prepared the way for the 
popular dynasty of the Tudors. Shakespeare knew that he did 
and has given a most flattering portrait of this great Welshman, 
whom he represents as a soldier, musician, poet and chivalrous 
lover all in one. 

These three plays, taken together, represent the achievement 
of an all-British unity ; Shakespeare is certainly not correct when 
he represents it as taking place in the reign of Henry V, but it 
was the aim of his own generation and of his patron—EHssex— 
in particular. 

The same idea is borne out by a study of ‘Richard IL.’ The 
dying speech of John of Gaunt describes England as a “ sceptred 
isle,’ defended by the sea ‘ against the envy of less happier lands.’ 
Now this was quite untrue of the reign of Richard II, for England. 
was not then a ‘sceptred isle,’ nor was it defended by the sea 
against invasion. On the contrary. The Scots were a different 
and a hostile nation and it was their hereditary policy to invade 
England as the hereditary allies of France.- We may remember 
that ‘Richard II’ was played some forty times during the Essex 
conspiracy and was supposed to have been amended for that 
purpose. It is quite possible that this was one of the passages 
added in the emendation, for Essex declared that his real aim was 
the assurance of the Scottish succession as against the Spanish 
succession, and his friends always asserted that he had died a 
martyr to the cause of the Scottish succession and British unity. 
‘Richard Il’ was quoted at the Essex trial as a play with a strong 
political bearing. 

It is important to remember that Essex helped in every way 
possible towards a similar aim in France, where Henry of Navarre 
was struggling to consolidate the country under himself, and 
either with a Protestant rule or a rule tolerant of Protestants. 

The Essex party appear to have had two great aims: the 
achievement of the unity of Britain and the Protestant succession 
in Britain and the achievement of the unity of France and the 
Protestant succession in France. 

I believe that most of Shakespeare’s plays are really political 
and are devoted to the furtherance of this aim. With regard 

A.S.—VOL. IV. # 


66 THE ARTHURIAN EMPIRE 


to Spenser there can be no doubt whatever: the “ Faerie Queene ’ 
is a great religious and political poem, and the author is im- 
passioned for two ideals: the achievement of British unity and 
the establishment of the Protestant succession in England and 
France. 

The attitude taken by the Elizabethan poets towards Wales 
is very definite and very interesting. They regarded Wales as 
the mother-country of the British Isles and as typifying the 
British qualities in purer and more unmixed fashion than the 
rest. First and foremost among these qualities they placed 
the love of liberty ; England, the Elizabethans were regretfully 
bound to admit, had been four times conquered : by the Romans, 
the Saxons, the Danes, and the Normans ; but Wales, they main- 
tained, had never been, in any effective sense, conquered at all. 
Also, as I have pointed out, the Arthurian precedent happened 
to be the most useful in the particular dispute with Rome. 

The: Elizabethans also regarded the British race as specially 
gifted in poetry and music; the Welsh Eisteddfod, which had 
kept these arts active for many centuries and had cherished 
them among the people as a whole, was the most striking proof 
of this. (See Drayton’s Folyolbion, Bks. I. to V.) It is inter- 
esting to observe that the Elizabethan antiquaries—W. Camden, 
for instance—marked out the whole of Great Britain in Celtic 
tribes ; on Camden’s atlas Shakespeare’s county of Warwick- 
shire is marked as Cornavii, and Shakespeare would probably 
regard himself as belonging to the same Celtic tribe as Cornwall. 

Certainly the Elizabethans used to the full what they thought 
their Celtic birthright; they established the liberty of Britain 
on so firm a basis that it has never been shaken since; they 
wrote the greatest poetry in Europe, and they composed the 
greatest music in Kurope. 

They assuredly followed in the steps of those whom they 
claimed with such pride and eagerness as their Welsh ancestors. 

It is significant that the work of Dr. Fleure and his assistants 
goes to prove that the ethnological conceptions of the Elizabethans 
were very largely right. 

LILIAN WINSTANLEY. 


8. A NOTE ON A PASSAGE IN BEOWULF 
Beowulf, 1. 1150. ‘ne meahte wefre mod forhabban in hrefre.’ 


THE word ‘ wefre’ in this line is usually translated ‘ flickering,’ 
e.g. Clarke-Hall, ‘ his flickering spirit could not keep its footing 
in his breast.’ Bosworth-Toller (Anglo-Saxon Dictionary) gives 
as translations of the word: (i.) flickering, wavering, quivering ; 
(ii.) fig. wavering, languishing; (ili.) active, nimble. The word is 
usually found describing fire, and it is to be doubted whether the 
desired sense is not more often that of a raging fire—an inter- 
pretation which would be close to Bosworth-Toller (s.v. i.). It 
surely has this sense in Daniel 241: ‘wylm Hes weefran liges,’ 
where the expression describes the ‘ burning fiery furnace’ of 
the Authorised Version. 

The equivalent Old Norse word ‘ vafr* seems to be always 
used with this more virile meaning: Cleasby-Vigfusson, [celandic- 
English Dictionary, however, gives ‘wavering,’ ‘ flickering.’ 
In the Prose Edda (Skaldskaparmal, cap. 40) the expression 
‘vairlogi ’ is used to describe the circle of fire that encompassed 
_ Brynhildr’s dwelling. Since Gunnarr’s horse refused to pass 
through the fire we may assume that the flames rose high and 
fierce and presented a barrier of some considerable difficulty. 
In the Volsunga Saga, where the same story is told, a later scribe 
has added at the head of the chapter, ‘ Sigurér reid vafurlogan 
Brynhildar Budla dottur,’ evidently regarding the episode as 
another example of the hero’s prowess. In the Elder Edda the 
werd is used in two places, and in each with the meaning of 
“furious.” In Skirnismél str. 8 Skirnir says to Freyr, ‘ Now 
give me the horse to bear me through the dark “ vafrloga ’’’ : that 
the fire was regarded as an unsurmountable barrier is shown by 
the words of astonishment which greet Skirnir’s arrival, ‘ How 
didst thou all alone pass through the huge fire (eikinn fyr) to 
visit our hall?’ In Fjolsvinnsmal str. 31 the hall Lyr is known 
by its encircling ‘vafrlogi.’ The evidence, therefore, goes to 

67 


68 A NOTE ON A PASSAGE IN BEOWULF 


show that in Old Norse literature the word most probably meant 
‘furious’ rather than ‘ flickering.’ 

In Beowulf the word ‘ wefre ’ is used three times and in each 
case the translation ‘furious ’ improves the sense. In |. 1331] 
it is used to describe Grendel’s mother (‘wel-sest wéire’), 
where the sense required is one of fierceness. Again in |. 2420 
it describes Beowulf’s feelings before his last encounter, 


‘Him wes 3éomor sefa 
wefre ond wel-fis wyrd unzemete néah.’ 


It has been usual to suppose that this passage indicates the 
wavering of a spirit about to depart (so Chambers’ Beowulf, 
p. 59 note): the expression ‘ wel-faus’ shows, however, that 
although ‘sad at heart ’ the hero was still eager to do battle. 

The third example, quoted above, occurs in the Finn Episode 
in Beowulf; here the suggested interpretation of ‘wefre’ as 
‘furious ’ enables us to remove a difficulty. The general inter- 
pretation of these lines is that they apply to Finn and bespeak 
his forthcoming death (7.e. ‘ his flickering spirit could not keep 
its footing in his breast’). By taking ‘ wefre’ as ‘furious,’ 
‘raging,’ and applying the words to Gudlaf and Oslaf, Finn’s 
slayers, we conform with Dr. Chambers’ suggestion that these 
lines should, in accordance with O.E. style, be parallel to 
I. 1149-50, and at the same time give support to Ettmiiller’s 
original suggestion that the translation should be ‘the spirit of 
the attacking part (Gudlaf and Oslaf) could no longer restrain 
itself.’ 


G. N. GARMONSWAY. 


9. WELSH WORDS FROM PEMBROKESHIRE 


Tue Welsh dialect of North Pembrokeshire is known to contain 
words and expressions which have been forgotten, or were always 
unused, in other parts of Wales. Here also words, which are 
common to all the Welsh-speaking people, often assume unusual 
forms of great interest to the philologist. The use of some of 
these strange words and expressions is limited to a few parishes. 
The following short list are in regular use in the north-western 
portion of the lordship of St. Davids. The snares which lie in 
wait for the amateur philologist shall not daunt me from drawing 
attention to these, or from hazarding an occasional explanation. 
Ii some of them have been noted already, and commented on in 
learned journals, I must apologise to ABERYSTWYTH STUDIES 
for burdening its pages. 

‘Cyfer ’ and ‘ Cyfar.’—‘ Cyfar ’ without doubt meant coaration, 
and the name was given some time or other to that amount of 
jand a composite team could plough in a day, an acre or there- 
abouts. In Pembrokeshire ‘erw’ is always used for acre, not 
‘cyfar.’ 

‘Cyfer,’ however, is used regularly, but denotes a yoking, or 
inspan. In the short days of spring, the farmer ‘keeps one 
eyier. ‘Cadw un cyfer.’ When the days wax long he keeps 
two. In other words the farmer or ploughman yokes his team 
once or twice in the day, and uses an expression implying 
that he has relays of horses or teams. When he keeps ‘ doi 
gyier ’ he, of course, uses the same horses, but the length of the 
day enables him to give them rest and livery ‘hanner dydd.’ 

‘Cyfer’ is undoubtedly the ‘ kyveir ’ of the Mabinogion, and is 
not the same word as ‘cyfar,’ and meant a combination of straps 
ot raw hide or leather, a bridle, or harness. Mr. Morgan Rees 
tells me that his grandfather, who came from the neighbourhood 
of Llandovery, always called a harness ‘cyfer.’ The ‘eirw’ 
ot Pembrokeshire, elsewhere ‘eirwy,’ is the single rope or chain 
for fastening or tethering oxen in their stalls. 

In the following quotation from the Mabinogion, the use of 

69 


70 WELSH WORDS FROM PEMBROKESHIRE 


‘kyveir’ is extended from harness and a yoking to the distance 
horses could travel without rest and livery, or loss of speed. 
Just as the Romans obtained fresh horses at the “ mansiones ’ 
on the great roads, so arrangements were made for a rapid journey 
to the coast as described below. ‘Ar swyddwyr adechreuassent 
ymaruar am rannyat y meirch ar gweisson, ac eu rannu 
awnaethant ym pob kyveir hyt y mor.’ In the same way the 
Dutch of South Africa measured the distance from point to point 
across the trackless veldt by inspans. 

In the following quotation from Pwyll the meaning of ‘ kyveir ” 
must be a district, or tract of country which could be hunted 
without exhausting hounds or horses. ‘Sef kyveir oe gyvoeth 
a vynnai y hela Glyn Cuch.’ In primitive societies, when 
population was scanty, stock, horses, hounds and cattle were 
more valuable than land, and men estimated distance and space 
in terms which expressed the capacity of their animals. 

In some parts of Wales ‘ cyfer ’ came to denote the amount 
of land a team of oxen could plough in a day. As oxen can 
work for a longer time than horses without food, it is reasonable 
to suppose that the ‘cyver’ could be turned over without a 
break. ‘Cyfer,’ therefore, came to denote the same thing as 
‘cyfar,’ and the two were confounded, or regarded as local or 
dialect forms of the same word. The history of ‘kyveir’ or 
‘cyver’ is far more interesting than that of ‘cyfar,’ however 
important coaration must have been. 

Gwyddeifon.—This word is the name for harness now in use in 
Pembrokeshire. It explains itself, and tells of the days when the 
harness of the oxen was made of wood and tough and pliant 
willows. It is never used for carriage harness ; ‘ gwyddeifon’ are 
used for ploughing and other kinds of farm labour only. The 
harness is for the carriage horse. | 

Cleddeifon.—This is the form of the plural of ‘ cleddyf’ or 
“cledde’ in the local dialect. A door made of planks, or sub- 
stantial boards, has ‘cleddeifon’ or cross pieces to hold the 
door together and to hold the hinges. The old hinges on castle 
or church doors often have blades like elaborate or artistic 
swords. Possibly ‘ cleddeifon ’ as a name for the cross pieces of | 
doors was given for that reason. In any case an old form of the 
plural of ‘cleddyf’ or ‘ cleddaif’ has been preserved. It would 
be interesting to know whether the plural of ‘ gwellaif ’ is formed 
in the same way, in any part of Wales to-day. 


WELSH WORDS FROM PEMBROKESHIRE 71 


'Heblaw.—‘ Heb-law,’ with the accent on the second syllable, 
is in general use throughout Wales, and means besides, or as well 
as. In Pembrokeshire the same words or compound are used also 
with the accent on the first syllable, and the expression means 
careless, or unskilful. The Parable of the Sower and Art have 
invested that essential labourer with a dignity not given to 
many callings. The reaper is equally indispensable, but his 
scythe inspires terror, and his coming is the end. Few, however, 
realise that sowing was a skilled occupation and entrusted to the 
elders. The drill and other machines a youth can drive as well 
as the greybeard of seventy. But corn was once expensive, and 
could not be trusted to the novice, his sowing would be ‘ heblaw.’ 
Uneven thatching is also ‘ heblaw.’ Judging from these examples 
‘irregular ’ would be the best transiation of the term. 

Danllaw.—Perhaps the primary import of this compound was 
possession or control. In Pembrokeshire it is an agricultural 
expression also, or part of one. As the ploughman draws his 
furrow, the ground on the one hand is ‘ yr ochor danllaw,’ on the 
other “ochor y rhych.’ In the days when the ploughboy led the 
team with his right hand the left hand side of the oxen was the 
controlling side, or ‘ yr ochor danllaw.’ ‘Danllaw’ in the sense of 
corrupting, corrupt or crooked is the equivalent of the English 
underhand, a translation, and the degradation of an honourable 
term. 

Cydel.—Dr. Sylvan Evans found this word in the Dimetian 
dialect. It has a curiously amphibious history. It is the 
“Kydellus ’ of medizeval Latin and means a weir (Magna Carta, 
¢. 33). But in Pembrokeshire and South Cardiganshire ‘ cydels’ 
have deserted beach and stream for the country, and have given 
their name to the angular corners of fields. ‘Cydel’ means the 
same thing as gore, an awkward V-shaped corner which it is 
difficult or impossible to plough. It would be interesting to 
know whether the Welsh ‘gored’ or weir is, or is not, an 
amphibious word also. The Ozford Dictionary gives ‘ coryd ’ 
as the Welsh for weir. But ‘ gored’ with a ‘g’ suggests the V- 
shaped end of the gored acre. The barons of Magna Carta failed 
to destroy the ‘ cydels ’ which hindered the navigation of river and 
estuary. They still survived as ‘ fishgarths’ in the waters of 
the Humber and Ouse in the reign of Henry VIII, when that 
monarch’s zeal for the development of shipping decreed their 
destruction, because they obstructed the navigation of the said 


72 WELSH WORDS FROM PEMBROKESHIRE 


waters. Centuries ago a ‘ fishgard ’ or ‘ fishgarth ’ gave its name 
to that small town which is supposed to, and does not, mark the 
terminus of the Great Western Railway. In the nineteenth 
century or earlier, antiquarians succeeded in getting the word 
spelt Fishguard because it guarded the fish of the river or of the 
bay or those of the channel. It was never explained which. 

The English ‘gore’ or ‘gored acre’ may have travelled 
westwards, and taken to waterish ways in its adventures. The 
Welsh ‘cér’ suggests something round, not the spreading arms 
of the ‘goreds’ found on beaches extended to embrace as many 
fish as possible stranded by the ebbing tide. Such was the 
‘gored’ at Bangor mentioned in the Black Book of Caermarthen. 

Lledrog.—This is the name given to a piece of uncultivated 
land contiguous to a farm-yard, and into which cattle, horses, 
calves, and pigs are turned to suit the convenience of the farmer. 
One such ‘ lledrog ’ is about seven acres in extent, on a gentle slope. 
It is abundantly supplied with water, and is a paradise for geese. 
From it lead two lanes, and around it are gates to the nearer 
fields of the farm. 

Feidyr.—The use of this word is not restricted to Pembroke- 
shire, but it means a lane, wherever it is found. Its form and 
origin have been sources of considerable speculation. It is 
suggested here that it is the equivalent of ‘ pentir ’ or ‘ headland.’ 
Every holder of a strip, or strips ‘ lain ’ or ‘ lleiniau,’ had the right 
or liberty of way over the headland. Such a right was essential 
for the carting of manure and produce. At the back of Fishguard 
the medieval strips, half acres, acres, and two acres remain 
intact. Their dividing double furrows have grown into earthen 
banks or hedges. They have survived the rapacity of man 
and the progress of agricultural science. The lanes leading to 
them are still called ‘feidyr’ with distinguishing names. 3 

The early French form of ‘vectura’ was ‘veiture’,1 and 
denoted the obligation of carting for a lord. It is suggested here 
that the peasants of Dimetia extended the use of the word and 
applied it to the lanes along which they carted the produce of 
their Norman masters. In the same way ‘llafur’, which meant 
labour, came to mean corn, the production of which was the most 
important work of the farmer. 

Gweryd.—This word is used to denote manure of all kinds, 


1 I am indebted to Professor A. Barbier for drawing my attention to 
NG EMUUORE, 


WELSH WORDS FROM PEMBROKESHIRE 73 


and ‘gwerydo’ is to manure the land. This use of ‘ gweryd’ is 
reminiscent of the age-long utilisation of marl as a fertiliser. In 
George Owen’s opinion it surpassed all others. For the farmer 
who used sand farmed for himself, the one who used lime, for his 
children ; but the provident cultivator who marled his fields 
prepared for his grandchildren a series of abundant harvests. 
The greatest of the Pembrokeshire historians and his contem- 
poraries believed mar! to be the fat of the earth, deposited on the 
relatively low parts of her surface by the subsiding waters of 
Noah’s flood. It would be highly entertaining to know that 
they confounded ‘ gwér’ with ‘gweryd,’ and very comforting to 
philologists to be in such goodly company. 

Gweryd-cwdyn.—This compound denotes artificial manures, 
because they are contained in bags. It is interesting, for it 
- shows that the Dimetian dialect has not wholly lost its creative 
force. 

Farm-yard manure is ‘dom.’ The use of this word as a 
verb is unseemly to the Pembrokeshire man, for to him it is the 
excrementing of animals. Such is a result of the general use of 
‘oweryd.’ : 

I am indebted to my colleagues the heads of the Department 
of Welsh for their encouragement and advice; but they are in 
no sense responsible for the conclusions arrived at in this short 


article. 
T. STANLEY ROBERTS. 


10. AN ENGLISH FLEXIONAL ENDING IN 
WELSH! 


SrncE the publication of Elliss monumental work, On Early 
English Pronunciation (London, 1869-1895), considerable atten- 
tion has been paid to the development of English pronunciation 
from the fourteenth century to the present day. All kinds of 
sources of information on the subject have been examined. 
Among these Ellis mentions two Welsh ones: Wm. Salesbury’s 
Dictionary in Englyshe and Weishe . . . London, 1547, and his 
Playne and Familiar Introduction . . . London, 1567. He is 
guarded, however, in his use of information furnished by Salesbury, 
for the following reason (Vol. I., p. 32): ‘As a Welshman, 
Salesbury was, of course, liable to mispronounce English, but 
he was so early removed to England, and had so long an oppor- 
tunity of studying the Southern English pronunciation to which 
his treatises show that he was fully alive, that any assertion of 
his must carry great weight with it, however much opposed it 
might be to theory.’ Sweet, in his History of English Sounds 
(Oxford, 1888), makes use of a further Welsh source of information, 
a phonetic transliteration in Welsh orthography of a Hymn to 
the Virgin, published in the Transactions of the Philological Society, 
1880-1, and annotated by Ellis. This is really a poem to God 
and the Virgin, in strict metre, and was published in the collection. 
of the works of Howel Swrdwal a’i Fab Ieuan, ed. Morrice, Bangor, 
1908, pp. 32-36. Here the ‘transliteration’ is given, and is 
generally attributed to Ieuan (flor. c. 1470). It was composed, 
according to a Welsh note attached to the poem, * by a Welshman 
at Oxford, because an Englishman had asserted that Welsh had 
neither metre nor cynghanedd.’ Sweet states, on p. 203 of his 
work, that results obtained from the study of other sources are 
‘further confirmed and supplemented’ by this transliterated 
poem. Other similar sources might be mentioned ; for example, 
a series of English prayers for each day of the week in Welsh 
: 1 See erd for abbreviations. 
795 


76 AN ENGLISH FLEXIONAL ENDING IN WELSH 


orthography (Llanstephan MS. 117, first half of sixteenth century), 
and Cywydd y Saesnes by Tudur Penllyn (fifteenth century), 
published in Ll. MS. 6, p. 125 (early sixteenth century). 

So far as I have seen, however, no one, in investigating the 
development of the pronunciation of English, has examined for 
this purpose the large mass of helpful material found in the 
form of English loan-words in Welsh, ranging in date from the 
Old English period to the present day. These, which have been 
collected by the writer, confirm the results otherwise obtained. 
They afford additional proofs, and may even supply disprootfs, 
of the deductions made by English phoneticians. Jespersen, 
in his Modern English Grammar... Part I (Heidelberg, 
1909), pp. 3-9, mentions the various ways in which the pro- 
nunciation of former periods may be obtained, viz., spelling, 
versification, puns and plays upon words, the works of old 
phoneticians, grammarians, and spelling reformers. Yet he 
does not even suggest here that loan-words may be a help, in 
spite of the fact that in his Growth and Structure of the English 
Language (Leipzig, 1905), p. 29, he writes, ‘ Loan-words have’ 
been called the milestones of philology, because in a great many 
instances they permit us to fix approximately the dates of 
linguistic changes.’ Cf. also his Language... (London, 1922), 
pp. 208-215. 

It is proposed in this article to consider one very small point 
only, the flexional ending -es of the ‘ strong’ plural in English, 
as seen in loan-words in Welsh. 

In borrowings from English into Welsh, not many flexional 
forms have been taken over. The -an case-ending of the ‘ weak ’ 
declension of Old English, however, seems to occur in the follow- 
ing borrowings—berman, capan, cwpan, hosan, sidan, suran, 
tarian, among others, all being singular ; and the umlaut-plural 
is, perhaps, seen in -myn, the plural of -man, -mon, in compounds. 
There appears to be at least one case of the Old English plural 
ending -as, in ffoxas (Book of Taliesin, p. 15, ed. Evans), of the 
Q.E. ‘strong’ vocalic (a) declension (see Y Beirniad, Haf, 1916, 
p. 316). Ysgadan ‘ herrings ’ (found as early as in R.P. 130a 22), 
if, as is very improbable, from O.E. sceadd (Mod. E. shad), may 
contain the O.E. ‘weak’ plural ending -an. But cf. Irish 
scaddn. ‘The -es ending of Middle and Modern English, how- 
ever, appears in different forms in a large number of borrow- 
ings. To realise the significance of the Welsh forms, it will not 


AN ENGLISH FLEXIONAL ENDING IN WELSH 77 


be out of place, perhaps, to discuss briefly the history of the 
pronunciation of English é in unaccented syllables. 

The é in this ending is one of the many cases in M.E. of é 
which became “ weak’ in unstressed syllables. The O.E. un- 
accented vowels were levelled under e. The results arrived at 
by Ellis and later writers as to the actual pronunciation of this 
‘weak’ € in various positions at different periods are confirmed 
by English loan-words in Welsh. The weakening appears to 
have set in very early, although Ellis, in discussing the pro- 
nunciation of e final in the fourteenth century (Karly EH. Pron., I., 
p. 318), says guardedly : ° That the e final was at least occasionally 
pronounced, and that its sound did not differ, except in accent, 
from that of me, the (= mee, dhee) is conclusively proved by . . . 
rhymes.’ ‘The tendency nowadays is to consider these “ weaken- 
ing ’ changes as having taken place earlier than it was once thought. 
“The sound-changes to which the present day pronunciation of 
Standard English owes its characteristic features had begun as 
early as in the fifteenth century.’! ‘At least as early as the 
middle of the fifteenth century vowels in unstressed syllables 
were shortened, reduced, or confused, very much as in Colloquial 
English at the present time.’ 2 ‘The loss of weak e /a/, the M.E. 
representative of O.E. full vowels a, e, i, 0, w, in weak syllables, 
is one of the most important changes in the history of the language. 

The loss did not take place in all positions at the same 
time... . When it disappeared from the pronunciation, it 
was very often retained in the spelling.’ 3 

‘There appear to be two quite different tendencies at work from 
early in the modern period among different sections of speakers. 
One group tends to level all weak vowels under some front vowel, 
written 7 or e; the other to level all weak vowels under some 
“ obscure ’’ vowel [a] or some such sound, written variously a, 0, u. 
It is probably safe to infer that the symbols for old back or 
back-rounded vowels, a, 0, u, generally imply some sound corre- 
sponding to [a] at the present time, and that the symbols for 
front vowels—i, e—imply the kind of vowel now heard in the 
second syllable of ladies .. .’4 

The unstressed é in the actual flexional syllable under con- 


' Zachrisson, Englische Studien (1918), Vol. 52, p. 258. 

2 Wyld, A History of Modern Colloquial English, 2nd ed. 1921, p. 258. 
® Jespersen, A Modern English Grammar, Part I. (1909), pp. 186, 192. 
* Wyld, op. cit., p. 260. 


78 AN ENGLISH FLEXIONAL ENDING IN WELSH 


sideration, es of the ‘strong’ plural, is discussed by Salesbury 
in the Introduction to his Dictionary (sixteenth century ; see 
above). He states that the e before s disappears in the plural 
ending, except after sibilant sounds. Wyld! cites instances of 
forms in -ys, -vs, -ws from the fifteenth century, -is, -ys from the 
sixteenth century, and -zs from the seventeenth century, all after 
sibilants. He states further?: ‘It is rather doubtful how far 
we can take the spelling -ys, -es, etc., seriously in the fifteenth 
century as representing a syllable, except after the words ending 
in the consonants above mentioned (i.e. ending in -s, -sh, -dge). 
We may be certain, however, that it was at least pronounced as 
a Syllable in those cases where we now so pronounce it, and if 
we find causis written, it is reasonable to suppose that a pro- 
nunciation identical with our own, so far as the suffix is concerned, 
is intended. It is probable that -ys was pronounced as a syllable 
in poetry long after it was lost in colloquial speech. ... In the 
London area -es was the traditional spelling, and when the scribes 
depart from this it must mean something. If the scribe often, 
or even usually, writes -es, but occasionally -ys, we are, I think, 
justified in believing that in the former case he is merely following 
tradition, but that in the latter he is recording the usual pro- 
nunciation. In the sixteenth century it is certain that the 
vowel of the suffix was only pronounced where we pronounce it.’ 

In view of the above statements regarding the pronunciation 
of -es in Middle and Modern English, the subjoined Welsh forms 
are significant. It is strange that instances of -es in Welsh are 
very rare: -as, -ys (-ws), and later -s, are frequent, indicating a 
period of borrowing when the M.E. é was already reduced. ‘There 
are a few instances of -is (-ins), -os, -ws (-wns, -wys), due chiefly 
to vowel assimilation. In the other cases of final é unstressed, 
that is, not before final s, the examples with e in Welsh borrowings 
preponderate, forms with a and y being also fairly common. 
Perhaps the reduction of the e began earlier in the case of the 
plural ending -es. When the e was final, that is, with no consonant 
after it, Welsh has in the majority of cases, if not in all, an a. 
Here again may be another case of earlier reduction of €. 

It will be seen that in some of the Welsh examples the quality 
of the vowel depends on that of the vowels in the preceding 
syllable. This is also true to a large extent of the Middle Welsh 


1 Wyld, op. cit., p. 269. 2 Ibid, pz 39; 


AN ENGLISH FLEXIONAL ENDING IN WELSH 79 


native words in cases where an inorganic vowel was written in 
final consonantal groups, the colour of the intrusive vowel being 
very often determined by the vowel in the preceding syllable. 
In cases where English -es appears in Welsh as either -ys or us, or 
both, the value of the vowel (y or w) is the same in such a position 
in the Modern Welsh period (from the fourteenth century) at any 
rate, but in Middle Welsh the sound of y and wu in this position 
were distinct. Where English has preserved the syllabic value of 
the plural ending up to the present day, after sibilants, its preser- 
vation as a separate syllable in Welsh loan-words is not necessarily, 
of course, an indication of early borrowing. The case is different 
when the syllable is found in Welsh but lost in English (after 
non-sibilant sounds). 

Below are appended examples of the forms which the English 
ending assumed in Welsh. The dates of the texts in which they 
are found, although they do not, of course, decide the actual 
period of borrowing, may be of some use in determining the 
pronunciation of the English sound at certain periods or in 
confirming the results already obtained. As the final group 
consonant +s is foreign to Welsh, it might be urged that some of 
these examples contained inorganic vowels that have developed 
in Welsh itself ; but as a large number of them have been borrowed 
very early, when the syllable preserved its identity in English, 
this cannot be true of the examples in general. But compare 
bocys ‘ box(-wood)’ in Davies’s Botanologivm, and, perhaps, 
cecys ‘ kex,’ but English has keckes in the sixteenth century 
ieee NOHD. s.v. Kez). 

I. English -es appearing in Welsh as -es. Instances are rare 
and uncertain. If genuine, they must have been borrowed 
before the sixteenth century at the very latest, before the begin- 
ning of the reduction of é in -es. 


_ Examples: botesseu, possibly from M.E. botes, with an additional 
Welsh plural suffix. It occurs in the Black Book of Chirk (Fac. ed. 
yans, 1909, thirteenth century), p. 103. In Owen’s text (Vol. I, 
p. 888) it is botasseu. 

ysglates ‘slates,’ M.E. sclates, Rep.W.MSS. II. 993. 

W.S.T. has cwtese (final e = W. plur. au, ew) Acts i., cf. cwtys below. 
Gwales R.M. 40 (gwalas R.M. 41) and R.P. 58b 36 is doubtful ; ynyales 
“annals ’’ R.P.-141b 22 and ynyaeles R.B.B. 371 may be Lat. annales. 


1 On the Welsh vowels see Welsh Grammar, J. Morris Jones. Oxford, 
1913, §§ 9-16. 


80 AN ENGLISH FLEXIONAL ENDING IN WELSH 


Il. English -es appearing in Welsh as -ys or -us. Instances 
are comparatively plentiful. I quote a few :— 


artsus ‘ arches’ Rep.W.MSS. 1.1. p. 154 ; amralys ‘ admirals ’ 8.E., 
M.E. sing. amrel, later amrel(le (N.H.D.); betys “ beet’ S.K., M.E. 
betes ; blattys *‘ blades ’8.G. 40 ; ? cecys ‘ kex ’ from sixteenth century E. 
keckes (N.E.D.), kekysseu ‘ keckes’’ W.S. (cf. cecs D.G.G. 69); cedys, 
cidys ‘ faggots,’ see N.E.D.s.v. Kid? ; ceilys “ kails’ ; cwtys ° cuts, lot’ ; 
kwittys “a cutte, lot’ W.S.; cwplys ‘ couples,’ kwplys ‘ couples ’ W.S. 
(cf. cwtws below); chwalcys “whelks’ R.P. 90a 5; ffeinys “ fines ’ 
Rep.W.MSS. I. 11. 1047 ; ffigys * figs ’ G.a.C. 146, 8.G. 46, 155, M.M. 98, 
feigys “fygges’ W.S., fficus-, ffycus- W.S.T. Mk. xi., Lke. xiii. ; fflockys 
‘flocks’ R.P. 96a 39; hocys * hocks, mallows’ M.M. 20, 22, R.P. 
96a 40, Job xxx. 4; maelus ‘mails’ D.G. (1873) 308 ; mestys ‘masts’ 
(coll.) ; muntys “mint ’ Rep.W.MSS. II. ii. 443, Mt. xxii. 23 (myntys 
W.S.T.) ; Moyrys, Moerys “ Moors’ C.C. 40a, 62a, 132 ; picys * pikes ’ 
LI.MS. 6, p. 74; platys * plates’ Pen.MS. 57, p. 84 (cf. D.G. (1873) 273 
plats) ; poplys * poplars, popples ’ Gen. xxx. 37; seifys, sifys * chives,’ 
taplys “tables’ R.P. 69b 11; tetlys ‘tiles’ D.G.G. 19, LIC.I. 30; 
waedgys ‘wages’ Rep.W.MSS. I. i., p. 1. (cf. waedys W.S.T. Lke. 111.) ; 
wrlys * orles’ ; wystrys * oysters ’ (Rep.W.MSS. J. 11. 423 has oesstrys) ; 
ysglatus ‘slates,’ ysclatys Rep.W.MSS I. i. 182; ysbinys ‘ spines ’ 
LLMS. 6, p. 183, spinus, ysbeinys D.E. 120. 


Ill. English -es appearing in Welsh as -as. In some cases 
this was due to vowel assimilation. 


Examples: botas, M.E. botes [W.Ll. (Geir.) has bottas: bwthos ; 
W.S. has bwtiasen: a boote]; clotas * clods’ (dial. Cards.) ; cocas' 
‘cogs’ S.E.; crabas ‘ crab-apples’ ; sbarras ‘ spars (of a roof),’ also 
prond. sbarraitsh (dial. Carn.) ; sciabas ‘ scabs’ (in Bardd Cwsc, p. 58, 
ed. Jones, 1898) ; syartrasseu ‘ chartes’’ R.B.B. 335, 8.G. 371 ; taplas 
‘tables ’ (ref. to a game) R.B.B. 203 ; westras ‘ oysters ’ (dial. Carn.). 


IV. English -es appearing in Welsh as -ws (wys, wns). All 
cases are due to vowel assimilation. 


Examples: cwplws ‘couples’ D.G.G. 107; cwiws ‘lot, cuts’ 
Is. lvui. 6, also coll. ; plwmws * plums’ (colloq.), also plwmwns (colloq.), 
plwmwys I.D.17; ? mwnws plur. of E. money in W.S.T. 1 Tim. vi., ef. 
mynws R.P. 146b 2. 


V. English -es appearing in Welsh as -os: due to vowel 
assimilation. 


Examples : cocos ‘ cogs of a wheel’ ; cocos ‘ cockles’ ; rhopos ‘ ropes ” 
(colloq.) ; tropos * drops’ (cf. dial. Pem. dropas ‘ soot ’). 


VI. English -es appearing in Welsh as -vs. 


AN ENGLISH FLEXIONAL ENDING IN WELSH - 81 


Examples: prinsis C.C. 146a ; sirins (collog.) ‘cherries’; tiglist 
‘tiles ’ LILA. 44 ll. 15, 16; cf. amis as ‘ ambes as’ F.N. 167. 

The ending -is is the usual present-day Welsh representation 
of English -es, e.g. sparblis ‘ sparables.’ 


VII. The monosyllabic ending -s of English appearing in 
Welsh as -s. 


Examples: bwliwns * bullions’ D.G.G. 79, D.E. 37, Pen.MS. 67, 
p. 110; grabs ‘ grapes’ F.N. 101; W.S.T. Mt. vi.; graens ‘ grains ’ 
F.N. 101, grains D.E. 47; guns ‘guns’ Pen.MS. 67, pp. 110, 133, 
Cymmrodor xxxi. 186, LI.C. 62 ; herawds ‘ heralds ’ Rep.W.MSS. I. 219 ; 
hwrswns ‘whoresons’ Cymmrodor xxx. 186; Mu:rs ‘ Moors’ C.C. 
121b; plats ‘plates’ D.G. (1873) 273 ; siwels ‘jewels’ LI.MS. 6, p. 
107 ; tels ‘tiles’ I.D. 14. 

It will be noticed from these examples that the total reduction 
took place at a fairly early period. 


The Welsh forms have some special features :— 

(a) Double plurals. A further plural: suffix is sometimes 
added to the English form, e.g. botasau, botysau, botesaw (see 
above I); W.S.T. has cwtese (Acts 1.), cwttysae (Mark xv.), cwtyse 
(Luke xxiii.), cyttysae (John xix.), cf. cwtys, cwtws, above II, IV; 
there are colloquial or dial. forms like locsis, locsys ‘locks or 
beard,’ and galosis “ braces,’ from gallows “* braces’ (see Powel in 
Cymmrodor vi. p. 114). 

(6) Singulative forms in -en, -yn (-ysen, -ysyn, -sen, -syn) trom 
the English borrowed plural, e.g. cecysen F.N. 195 ; ffigysen ‘a fig ° 
LD. 31; wpoplysen ‘a poplar, popple’ Hosea iv. 13; later, 
colloquially, the shorter form is frequent, e.g. bricsen ‘a brick’ ; 
locsen, locsyn C.C. 255b ‘lock, beard’ ; teilsen ‘a tile.’ In the 
dials. we have also clotasen ‘a clod ’ (Cards.), plwmwnsen ‘ a plum ’ 
(cf. IV above). In Carns. spyrsyn and sprisin are heard, sing. 
of sparras ‘spars’ (see III above). 

(c) Two forms of the plural, borrowed, perhaps, at different 
periods, e.g. Mwrs, Moyrys ‘Moors’ (see II, VII above) ; peics 
C.C. 184b, picys ‘ pikes’ (see II above); plats, platys ‘ plates ’ 
(see II, VII above). 

(d) We sometimes find the Welsh umlaut-plural forms: 
ceirt ‘ carts ’ I.D. 53 ; cyrt ‘ cords’ (Bardd Cwsc, ed. Jones, 1898) ; 
pyrs ‘porches’ D.G.G. 92 (and ? R.P. 120a 14); tyrs (turs) 
meG.c. 85, L1.MS. 6, p. 2. 

(e) In the modern colloquial speech some curious double 

A.S.—VOL. IV. G 


82 AN ENGLISH FLEXIONAL ENDING IN WELSH 


plurals are found, cyrts ‘cords’ (also cyrt), ffyres ‘forks’ (also 
Sfyrc). 

(f) Penultimate affection is seen in mestys ‘masts,’ and 
metshys ‘matches,’ colloquially. 

There is a peculiar form trattwyrs ‘traitors ’ in C.C. 185b. 

An examination of the English loan-words found in Cornish 
texts will reveal similar developments. Williams, the compiler 
of Lexicon Cornu-Britannicum, seems to have omitted these. 
They were, however, collected with others by Stokes, and 
published in the J'vansactions of the Philological Society, 1868, 
pp. 187-250. As final ¢ (d) became s in Cornish, it is sometimes 
hard to distinguish between the native plural suffixes -os, -as, 
-es, -ys, and the English borrowed suffix. We may be tolerably 
certain, however, that in words borrowed from English we have 
the English ending. Such forms as the following are found in 
Cornish: battas ‘bats,’ branchis (branchys), cappas, cencras 
‘crabs,’ chaynys ‘chains,’ cymbalys ‘cymbals,’ floures, flowrys 
‘ flowers,’ syres ‘ sirs,’ whyppes ‘ whips.’ The later simple s-form 
is also very frequently found: doctours, onours, persons (see 
Norris, Ancient Cornish Drama, Vol. II, p. 232). 

In Breton the French -es is seen in such forms as almandes 
‘amandes,’ baetes ‘ bettes,’ botes, bottes, ‘ bottes, souliers,’ carotes 
‘ carottes,’ perles ‘ perles.’ 


ABBREVIATIONS 


C.C.: Cannwyll y Cymry. 3rd ed. Wrexham. 

D.E.: Gwaith Dafydd ab Edmwnd, ed. Roberts, Bangor, 1914. 

D.G. (1873): Barddoniaeth Daf. ab Gwilym. Liverpool, 1873. 
D.G.G.: Dafydd ap Gwilym at Gyfoeswyr, ed. Williams, Bangor, 1914. 
Ga.C.: The History of Gruffydd ap Cynan, ed. Jones, Manchester, 1910. 


F.N.: Y Flodeugerdd Newydd .. . Gruffydd, 1909. 

I.D.: Gwaith Ieuan Deulwyn, ed. Williams, Bangor, 1909. 

L1A.: Llyfr yr Ancr (1346). The Elucidaritum . . . ed. Jones and 
Rhys, 1894. 


L1.C.: Llén Cymru I, T. Gwynn Jones, Caernarfon, 1921. 

LI.MS.: Llanstephan MS. 6 (Guild of Graduates Series I), ed. Roberts, 
ONG: 

M.M.: Meddygon Myddfai, ed. Williams, 1861. 

N.E.D.: A New English Dictionary . . . Murray, Oxford, 1888-.  _ 

Pen.MS. 57: Peniarth MS. 57 (Guild of Graduates Series III), ed. 
Roberts, 1921. 

Pen.MS. 67: Peniarth MS. 67 (Guild of Graduates Series II), ed. — 
Roberts, 1918. | 


AN ENGLISH FLEXIONAL ENDING IN WELSH 83 


R.P..: Poetry from the Red Book of Hergest, ed. Evans, 1911. 

R.B.B.: The Red Book Bruts, ed. Jones and Rhys, 1890. 

S.E.: A Dictionary of the Welsh Language . . . Silvan Evans, 1888- 
1906. 

S.G.: Y Seint Greal (Hengwrt MSS. Vol. 1), ed. Williams, 1876. 

W.LI. (Geir): Barddoniaeth Wiliam Llyn (containing Geirlyfr W.LL., 
pp. 267-289), ed. Morrice, Bangor, 1908. 

W.S.: A Dictionary in Englyshe and Welshe . .. Salesbury, 1547. 

W.S.T.: Salesbury’s Testament, Carnarvon edition, 1850. 


T. H. PARRY-WILLIAMS. 


11. A ‘COURT OF LOVE’ POEM IN WELSH 


As far as is known to us, there is in Welsh no early specimen of 
direct translation from Troubadour poetry, yet the parallels are 
so numerous and close that it is impossible to avoid the conclusion 
that the Welsh bards, even in the twelfth century, were already 
familiar with customs very much like those reflected in the poems 
of the Troubadours. The existence in Welsh of forms resembling 
the alba, the pastorela and the tenso has been pointed out, but 
the similarities extend to matters of much greater detail. To 
begin with, the aristocratic character of Troubadour poetry at 
the outset of the twelfth century is exactly paralleled in the case 
of Welsh poetry of the same period. The highly technical style 
of this poetry on the Continent is also characteristic of Welsh 
poetry, although, of course, the nature of the metrical complexity 
is quite different, and obviously unrelated. In France, princes 
and nobles themselves pursued the art, and also became the 
patrons of other Troubadours. Such also was the case in Wales, 
for among the bards we have princes like Hywel ab Owain 
Gwynedd and Owain Kyveiliog, and other men of the noble 
class. The joglar, jongleur, was probably represented in Wales 
by the croesan, who seems to have been a kind of buffoon. Of 
his position and function ‘we know but very little, and that, 
singularly enough, not from the works of the bards themselves. 
Some of the characteristics of the croesan, however, have per- 
sisted in the bardic attitudes down to the present day, such as 
the bravura element, the caricature habit, the utter disregard 
of historical accuracy in some matters, the unconscious tendency 
towards illusory abandonment and the half serious statement, 
followed by the fiercely serious defence, of purely imaginary 
extravagance as solid fact. Some of the Welsh bardic contro- 
versies of the present day illustrate these survivals with a fulness 
and clearness remarkable enough to attract the attention of any 
student of group psychology. 

Later, the gwr wrth gerdd seems to have fulfilled the less 

85 


86 A ‘COURT OF LOVE’ POEM IN WELSH 


degraded function of the joglar—that of reciting or singing his 
master’s poems at different courts. (Cp. the poem written by 
Wiliam Kynwal, making a request for Rhys, the gwr wrth gerdd 
of Sion Tudur, as late as the sixteenth century). The bard’s 
position in Wales, as in Ireland, seems to have corresponded 
almost exactly with that of the Troubadour in France. ‘“ When 
he was dependent upon his patron’s bounty, he would stoop to 
threats or to adulation to obtain the horse or the garments or 
the money of his desire.’1 This was also what was happening 
in Wales, where the threatening poem was quite as much of an 
institution as the eulogy. Llywarch ap Llywelyn (circa 1160— 
1220), for instance, says to his patron, Prince Davydd ab Owain : 


‘Thou, support of warriors, I have been patient ; famous one, of 
the ears of corn upstanding above the rest, if thou silence me, I will 
not promise thee, chief of the house of Beli, that I may not be angry- 
minded, through long displeasure. I know how to put in what I may 
sing—baneful it will be—a wrathful tongue-wound that no salve may 
heal ; my gift is ireful in conflict, direful in an assembly, in contention.’ # 


In a similar poem to Prince Gruffudd ap Kynan, the same 
bard says : 


‘ To thee, let not the sowing of my song be like the sowing of pearls 
before swine. And do thou consider, thou chief of rulers, how valuable 
is the gold of Arabia, though it be not asked for. Feeble ones consider 
not my brilliance in my art; do thou send the wretches away from 
thee ; and if thou dost not, I shall bring to thy cheeks a blush that 
shall pursue thee like a persistent shame, which thy grandson may 
hear as a reproach to him, and thy great-grandson, and my own great- | 
great-grandson, out of my wrath ; and now, do thou take a free choice, 
a curse or praise shall follow my coming.’ ® 


In Wales, as in France, jealousy between rival bards, and 
accusations of slander in their contentions with each other and 
with their patrons, were of constant occurrence. On the Con- 
tinent, the poetical powers of the Troubadours seem often to 
have been in demand by princes and nobles involved in a struggle. 
The bards seem to have been similarly sought in Wales, as we 
can see from many poems. Llywarch ap Llywelyn again claims 
in a poem to Davydd ab Owain: 


1 The Troubadours, H. J. Chaytor. Cambridge, 1912. 
2 Poems of the Gogynfeirdd, Denbigh, 1909, p. 89. 
3 Poetry of the Gogynfeirdd, p. 92. 


A ‘COURT OF LOVE’ POEM IN WELSH 87 


‘Generous lord, I am better for thee than numbers of steeds, far 
better than horsemen in thy expeditions. 

‘The day has come for thee, Davydd of the profound fame and the 
generous nature, either to have or to lose me.’ ! 


There is evidence that in Wales, as well as in France, bards 
retired to some monastery or religious house to end their days: 
as for instance in the stanza written by Kynddelw Brydydd 
Mawr when the monks of Strata Marcella had threatened to re- 
fuse him Christian burial, or in any of the religious poems in 
which the bards express their contrition for having lent their 
aid in the quarrels of the princes. 

Of the ladies whose praises were sung or whose favours were 
desired by the bards again, many seem to have been married, 
and the love celebrated in the poems of the Welsh bards for 
‘several centuries was conventional love, mixed up, especially 
with the spread of French and English influences, with a good 
deal of mere pornography. The claim that Troubadour love is 
the outcome of the theory of knighthood under the influence of 
mariolatry is strikingly enforced by the character of a poem of 
Hywel ap Dafydd ap Ieuan ap Rhys, of which neither the interest 
nor the significance in this connection is diminished by its later 
date (fifteenth century). The poem gives a description of the 
superlative beauty of the lady whom the bard loves, and ends as 
follows : 

‘IT love her, grace that has no bitterness ; she is my friend, and my 
love is she ; and the name of the faultless lady whom I love is Mary 
the Virgin ; strength of weak ones, I prefer to meet with her and to 
behold her, gentle, delicate-tressed maid, blessed Mary, than with 
any living maid.’ 

The idea that the lover stood to his lady in a position analogous 
to that of the vassal to his overlord is not, as far as | am aware, 
to be found clearly defined in Welsh, but the Troubadour idea 
that the lover attained such a position by stages (fegnedor, 
precador, entendedor and drut) is suggested in the use of the 
terms peddestrig, llatas and yolydd, particularly the latter, in 
Weish ; and a poem by Dafydd ap Gwilym speaks of the culti- 
vation of love in stages, the bard introducing into it the terms 
and seasons of husbandry. The Troubadour custom of referring 
to the lady by a pseudonym (Senhal) may be reflected in Dafydd 
ap Gwilym’s ‘ Morvudd,’ ‘Gwenonwy,’ etc., and is certainly 

1 Poetry of the Gogynfeirdd, p. 89. 


88 A ‘COURT OF LOVE’ POEM IN WELSH 


found in the poem in which he gives the letters forming the name 
of the lady,! and in another in which he says: 


‘Un peth a wnaf yn vy myw— 
peidio a dwedyd pwy ydyw.’ 2 


In none of the earlier Welsh bards do we find a sublimation 
of this pretended passion, such as we get in Dante, or even in 
Petrarca. Dafydd ap Gwilym has absolutely no chivalry, and 
not much courtesy even. The complaints of the bardic lovers 
are precisely those of the Troubadours, and of all the ‘amour 
courtois ’ poets,—they lose self-control, do not hear when they 
are addressed, cannot eat or sleep, grow thin and feeble and sink 
to an early grave. Kynddelw Brydydd Mawr pleads, for 
instance : 

* Kolledic wyf, 
kolleis gall ateb 1 neb, a’m nwyf, 
na wha vi veinwen val na hunwyf.’ | 


Davydd ap Gwilym sends Morvudd on a pilgrimage to 
Menevia for having caused his own death through scorn of his 
love of her. In another poem, he describes his own funeral, he 
having died for love of Morvudd. The Troubadour custom of 
beginning poems with a reference to spring or winter is reflected 
in Welsh. Marcabrun’s device of sending a bird (the starling %) 
as a messenger to his lady is very common in the poems attributed 
to Davydd ap Gwilym, who sends all kinds of creatures on the 
same errand. ‘The occurrence of passages of pure poetry in — 
some of the Troubadour fancies of this type is paralleled in Welsh. 
Cp. Bernard de Ventadour’s description of the lark with Davydd 
ap Gwilym’s poem on the same subject : 


‘Quant vey la lauzeta mover 
de joi sas alas contral rai, 

que s’ oblida e’s laissa cazer 
per la doussor qu’al cor li vai.’ 


1 *‘Henw ’r ferch a anherchir, 
hyn yn wawd yw ei henw ’n wir: 
U sy fry [H] hy hoywen, 
a thair D ac Y ac N.’ 
—Dafydd ap Gwilym wi Gyfoeswyr, Ifor Williams, p. 45. 
2 Dafydd ap Gwilym ai Gyfoeswyr, p. 22. 
3 Ts there any tradition that the starling could be taught to speak ? 
One remembers the starling in the Story of Branwen. 


A “COURT OF LOVE’ POEM IN WELSH 89 


‘Oriau hydr yr Ehedydd 

a dry fry 01 dy bob dydd, 

boréwr byd, berw aur bill, 

barth a’r wybr, borthor Ebrill,’ etc. 


Even the love letter, first introduced by Arnaut de Mareuil, 
is found later in Welsh. The two schools of stylists prevailing 
in Provence—irobar clus and trobar clar—are also to be found at 
the time of Dafydd ap Gwilym in Wales, and have continued 
to be found ever since, more or less. Dafydd belonged to the 
latter, and Gruffudd Gryg at first defended the former. Guiraut 
de Bornelh, objecting to the use of the easy style, says, in effect, 
‘there is no sense in making another speak out what one wishes 
to conceal and keep to oneself.’ This may be compared with the 
attitude of Dafydd ap Gwilym in a little conceit entitled ‘ Cywydd 
_yr Annerch,’ !in which the messenger is commissioned to invite 
a lady unknown to meet one unnamed at a place not mentioned. 
There is also a beautiful poem by Gutun Owain, to ‘ the language 
of the eyes,’ in which he says: 


‘Y fo wWyr y galon vau 
dy vedwl ar dy vodau ; 
llygaid a dywaid i doevh 
synnwyr lle nis kais annoeth ; 
dywed air mwyn ath wyneb, 
oth galon im’, ni'th glyw neb ; 
di a wydost, wyd adwyn, 
i dwedud mewn munud mwypn ; 
edrych arnad, kyd gwadaf, 
dan gél, yng ngwyd dyn a gaf,— 
un edrychiad pechadur 
ar nef, kyngodef i gur ; 
golwg lleidr drwy i neidrwyé 
ar dlysau siopau ‘n i swyéd!’ 
There is one instance, in a poem attributed to Davydd ap 
Gwilym, of the use of information contained in material speci- 


fically collected in Provencal for the use of Troubadour poets. 
In one of the Morvudd poems, he says: 


‘ She, the lady of light and of fine deportment, has pledged herself 
to me, by the form of her ring-burdened hand, by the devotion of soul 
and limb—that she will love me foremost of mankind, if the mother 
ape love her fostered son !’ 2 


1 Dafydd ap Gwilym wi Gyfoeswyr, p. 13. 
2 Barddoniaeth Dafydd ap Gwilym, 1789, p. 66. 


90 A *COURT OF LOVE’ POEM IN WELSH 


Compare with this the note, ‘De la Simia,’ in the treatise 
‘ Aiso son las naturas d’alcus auzels e d’alcunas bestias,’ given in 
Appel’s ‘ Provenzalische Chrestomathie,’ p. 203: 

‘La simia fay dos simios ; e cant hom la cassa, ela met sel que 
mens ama, sul col, e tenga se, si’s vol ; e sel que mays ama, lo maior, 
met entre sos bras, e fug ab dos pes. E cant ve que non li val re, 
per tal que puesca mielhs fugir ab catre pes, ela laissa sel que mays 
ama, e fug s’en ab lo menor.’ 


It has, of course, been demonstrated that the views at one 
time set forth with regard to the existence of ‘ Courts of Love ’ 
are untenable. One would hardly expect to find that there ever 
were such institutions of a recognised legal character, or even 
of a character meant to be taken quite seriously, but there seems 
to be no good reason to doubt that pretended courts of the kind 
may have been held. The Welsh poems, at any rate, provide 
evidence of the prevalence of such romantic attitudes among the 
bards and their friends. Cp. the poem attributed to Dafydd ap 
Gwilym, in which he tells how he had been wed to Morvudd in 
the grove, Madog Benvras, another bard, having acted as the 
priest who solemnised the marriage. The poem herein edited 
and translated, written in North Wales about 1283, as shown in 
the notes, prove at any rate that some such amusement as that 
suggested by the legend of the “Court of Love’ was known to 
the bard who wrote it, for in it the institution is described as a 
‘court’ (Ilys), the complaint is carefully stated in legal form, 
specifying time and place, the names of the witnesses are given, 
the pleading quoted and the precedent of the case of Gorlois and 
Uthr referred to. 

The author of the poem is Gruffudd ap Davydd ap Tudur. 
Of his history we know nothing, but he was a Northern bard 
who, according to the dates suggested in the Myvyrian Archeology, 
flourished between 1290 and 1340, and who, judging from refer- 
ences in his poems, was acquainted with the territory extending 
from Maelor to Arvon and Meirionydd. The poem was written — 
in 1283, as the text shows, and the date of the author can there- 
fore be put back a few years. There are three poems to women 
by this bard in the Red Book, cols. 1254-5, 1264, 1266, and in 
the Myv. Arch. They all reflect the attitudes of the amour. 
courtois. In one of them, the bard celebrates the beauty and 
virtue of a girdle given to him by a lady in return for a song. 
The second is a complaint against the treatment of the author 


A “COURT OF LOVE’ POEM IN WELSH 9T 


by a lady, described as ‘the lady of Hitun.’ EHitun is in Denbigh- 
shire, and Coed Eitun is twice mentioned in the poems attributed 
to Dafydd ap Gwilym. Pennant’s description of the place agrees 
well with the impression given by these romantic poems: 
‘The Dee rolls beneath, and forms a long and solemn reach, 
overshadowed by hanging woods. At Overton bridge, which 
lies about a mile beyond Eyton, the channel is contracted, 
and the stream flows picturesquely between the lofty banks.’ 
(Tours, ed. Carnarvon, 1883, vol. ii, p. 289). The poem to this 
‘lady of Hitun ’ contains a remarkable defence of free love : 


‘“Kyntaf vu Adaf o dyn 
a morwyn wyl am aeron, 
a deu gymar trydar trin 
y gelwid, govid gyvun. 


‘Un vu Adaf, am aval, 

ac Eva, kyd bei govul, 

a roes oe merched vedel 

oe meibyon doethyon dethol. 


‘Yn ol Adaf, naf nwyfrad, 

kynn kyfreith Pab noe drablud, 
y goruc pawb y gared 

ae gares yn oi geryd. 


‘Digeryé vyd, ryé rwydgael,— 
da y gwnaeth Mei dei or deil,— 
deuoed dan goed, y dan gel! 

y minneu, vi am annwyl.’ 


These two poems, and the third, which follows, reflect perfectly 
the ideas and mentality of the Troubadours ; they even conserve 
the attractive youthful quality which is, perhaps, the explanation 
of all such poetry. 

The metre of this composition is that known as Kyhydedd Hir, 
composed of three five-syllabled leading lines, with end-rhyme, 
and a tail-rhyme line of four syllables. The tail-rhyme is pre- 
served throughout the poem. The leading lines are not regularly 
alliterated, but alliteration between the third leading line and 
the tail-rhyme line is regular. It is difficult here and there to 
make out the meaning with certainty, as the style is highly 
artificial, sentences being cut up and metrical material introduced 


1 cel makes defective rhyme—y dan goel ? 


92 A ‘COURT OF LOVE’ POEM IN WELSH 


freely—note how three lines are inserted, for instance, in the 
middle of the expression, ‘ yr unved vlwyddyn ar ddeg.’ It is not 
quite clear whether the argument is between the bard and the 
lady only, or whether a third person is made to speak. I have 
presumed that the reply to the lady’s defence is spoken by the 
bard himself. 


TEX® 
(Llyfr Coch Hergest, cols. 1254-5). 


‘ Nyd Iles 1! ym geissa6,— 
Havur br6yngur bra6,— 
rof a phryd ala6 

—val firod 6yleis,— 
llunya6 tanghneved ; 
llifrann, g6ahan g6ed, 
breint kyflavared 

kyflavuryeis ; 
llidyawe vu genti,— 
llidyant r6ydyant ri,— 
beida6 y hen6i | 

pan y hen6eis ; 
llithged, breinged br6yn, 
llaes virein vorwyn, © 
llyma vy maorg6yn,— 

nyd am eurgeis,— 
rac 1li6 tonn ertrei,— 
mae vy l|l6 2 arnei, 
rel ae ryfedei 

nas r6y vedeis,— 
llifa6 vyng grudyeu, 
am llaéd heb arveu, 
minneu, y madeu 

nys medylyeis ; 
yn y Llun kyntaf 
o* dechreu gaeaf, 
pan vy6 anaraf 

tonn vassaf veis,* 
yr unved vl6oyédyn,— 

o oed a thervyn, 


1 Nyt lle in the Red Book text. The reading nyd Iles, in the Myv. Arch. 
seems preferable. 

2 vy lla6, R.B. and Myv. Arch. texts. 116 seems to be more intelligible. 

3 q@ dechreu, R.B. 

4 safaf sais, Myv. Arch., an evident scribal error. 


A “COURT OF LOVE’ POEM IN WELSH 93. 


yaonder y6 gofyn, 
hynn a honneis,—- 
ar dec, r6ymdec rin, 
troy lid a gordin, 
o oed y brenhin,! 
breinya6c kemmeis ; ? 
yn llygrant ym grann, 
yn lle y gelwir Liann 
yn lloga6d Vodvan, 
hoedran hydreis, 
yngheindref Aber, 
anghendreul ® Ilaéer, 
lle bu ner niver, 
naf a golleis,* 
ynghym6ot pennatf 
Arllechweéd Uchaf,— 
y dyn a garaf 
nys digereis !— 
yn siryfyaeth > Dén, 
yn Sir Gaer Arvon, 
Ne bu ron dragon, 
dreigeu Emreis.® 
O mynn6on vyng kloyf 
gan li6 tonn 6rth r6yf, 
noyf nyd esgor6yf, 
kan dwys gereis ! 
yr deugein s6llt nod 


1The date assigned to Gruffudd ap Davydd ap Tudur, as has been 
stated, is 1290-1340. Thus the king would be Edward I. He came to 
the throne in 1272, so that his eleventh year would be 1283, a year after 
the fall of Prince Llywelyn ap Gruffudd. 

21 treat kemmeis as a variant of camse, camsai, also found written 
casmat, from Low Lat. camisia. The confusion of the form with Cemmaes 
would have been easy. 

3 angheudreul in the R.B. text, but the initial consonance shows that 
it should be anghendreul. 

4 Prince Llywelyn ap Gruffudd, who had a court at Aber, was slain 
at Builth in 1282. His bodyguard of eighteen at the time was composed 
of men from Aber, see the reference to ‘llu Bod Faeaw’ in his elegy by 
Gruffudd ap yr Ynad Coch. The detailed character of the reference to- 
Aber suggests that the bard was acquainted with the court of Llywelyn, 
‘naf a golleis,’ when it was yet a place where men of his class were welcomed 
with ‘ample disbursements’ (anghendreul llawer). 

° Sirydyaeth, R.B. text ; seryddiaeth, Myv. Arch., the first a moderni- 
sation, and the second probably an attempt. to connect astronomy with 
the name of Dén. Cp. Gwydion ap Dén, and Caer Gwydion=the Galaxy. 

6 Dinas Emrys, in Snowdonia. 


94 A “COURT OF LOVE’ POEM IN WELSH 


o ysterlingod,1 

vyn namaes ? amod, 
mi ae symmeis ; 2 

ys g6yr vyn niva, 

ys g6ann ym adwna ; 

os g6enn ae g6ada,— 
goydn yo holeis,— 

mae ym bra6 glywed 

g6ybod, a g6eled, 

Carwed, Ednyved, 
Ednywein Seis ! 

g6enn,—a hoew y6 honn, 

g6ynlli6 ertrei tonn 

pann vyod eglur vronn 
a llonn y lleis,— 

ae g6ada6d yn veith 

yr llys, dyfrys deith,— 

cam ac anghytreith, 
g6eith g6ythla6n dreis !’ 

Dy goyn vu gynneu 

dy lad heb arveu 

a llafneu geireu 
g6yron, lledneis ; 

am 116, bei ’th leéid, 

a geir,—tlesmeir llid,— 

yn vy6 na ‘th welid, 
edlid adleis ; ° 

a by6 y th welaf, 

y ba6ob y tystaf, 

a bra6d a archaf, 
ae a ercheis.’ 


a” 


1 The date of the poem is further proved by the employment of the — 
term esterlingod. In one of the laws of Edward I there is a reference to — 
‘“Denarius Anglie, qui vocatur Sterlingus.’ The form has been derived — 
from esterling or esternling, ‘from A.S. éastan—=irom the east, or éasterne= 
eastern, and suff. -/ing; so called after the Esterlings or North Germans — 
(Hanse merchants), who were the first moneyers in England.’—Lloyd’s 
Encyclopedic Dictionary. = 

2 fynn anaes amyd ai sommais, Myv. Arch. ~The rhyme establishes — 
amod and the consonance mi ai. One might read vy na maes, and adopt — 
sommais, but it seems to me now much more likely that we have here a — 
borrowing of the legal term, from the O.Fr. damage, which would have — 
become damaes, a form yet heard alongside with damaij. This verifies — 
the R.B. reading symmeis, from the Fr. sommer (Eng. sum, W. swm), to © 
reckon, calculate. The bard lived at a time when La8 Se legal systema 
mae being introduced. 

° atreis, R.B. adlais, Myv. Arch. The consonance substantiates the | 
latter reading. 


A “COURT OF LOVE’ POEM IN WELSH 95 


‘Na dilyn6ch dla6d 
ny dilyn6oy 1 6a6d, 
a rec 2 eur dava6d, 
lliw eiry diveis ; 
dedlid ? hoed yn haf, 
didla6d y’th welaf ; 
dadleu ny allaf, 
ac ny elleis ; 
a diallu 6yf, 
a deallor cl6yf, 
a diellvyd vb6yf 4 
kan dyelleis.’ 
‘ Dealled doethyon 
dyvod dialon, 
o génaeth Penndragon 
drog y Wrleis.’ ° 
Nyd eilha6s—digna6s, dygneis—dawn dadleu 
ar dyn didla6d cérteis 
no myned, h6yrged hirgeis, 
Iwerdon o Von y veis.® 
TRANSLATION 

‘It were of no avail for me to seek to make peace between 
myself and the lily-white maid, it were but the labour of sorrow 
and alarm; and my tears have been like a stream—with wet 
cheeks and a change of countenance have I striven for the 
privilege of a meeting. 

Wrath was hers,—wrath, the lord over success,—that I dared 
to name her when I did ; mine has been a gift of enticement, the 
privileged dower of sadness ; stately and beauteous maid, bright 
as the breaking wave, whom it marvels many that I have not 
possessed, this—my oath upon it—is my great complaint against 
her, and not for amends in gold—that she caused the flooding of 
my cheeks, and slew me without weapons—yet have I never 
thought of abandoning her. 

‘ny ddynaw, R.B. ni dilynwy, Myv. Arch. The second seems to be 
the best reading. 

2 ar ol, R.B. ar ec, Myv. Arch. From the latter I deduce a rec, which 
gives better sense. 

3 dedlis, R.B. dedlis bed (or bod), Myv. Arch. The form in —id seems 
more intelligible—an old indicative used imperatively, cp. bid, etc. ? 
Another possible reading is Dedlid bedw yn haf, or Dedlid bedwen haf. 
‘Cp. the many references to bedw in the later love poems. 

4*nwyf, R.B. fwyf, Myv. Arch. 

° A reference to the tale of Uthr and Eigr (Uther and Igraine). 

® 0 vais, Myv. Arch., perhaps a better reading. 


96 A ‘COURT OF LOVE’ POEM IN WELSH 


It is right to inquire, in regard to time and place, and this [ 
have stated: It was on the first Monday of the beginning of 
winter, when the wave is wild on the shallowest shoal, in the 
eleventh year of the reign of the King of the royal robe, this 
being a fairly sworn secret, that she, through anger and violence, 
caused the defilement of my countenance, in the chancel of the 
church called after the name of Bodvan, in the fair habitation 
of Aber of the many favours, where were formerly the prince 
and his followers, a lord I have lost—in the chief commote of 
Upper Arllechwedd—ah ! I shall not unlove her whom I have 
loved !—in the shirevalty of D6on, in the county of Caernarvon, 
where once were the warrior’s arms and the dragons of Emrais. 
If I ever desired my wound from her who is white as the foam 
round an oar, may I never escape from the passion, for I have 
deeply loved! And the damaging of my bond, I have reckoned 
it up at forty minted shillings of sterling coin. She knows of my 
undoing, and again she causes me to be faint; if the fair one 
deny it, having diligently inquired, I have proof that Carwed, 
Ednyved and Ednowain Sais have heard, known and seen all. 
The fair one—and stately is she, bright as the breaking wave 
when its surge is lucent and when there is joy in its voice—has 
long denied herself to the court—a fleeting journey—a wrong 
and an injustice, a work of vicious oppression.’ 

‘Thy complaint, just now, was that thou hadst been slain 
without weapons, with the blades of deceitful, delicate words ; 
my oath upon it, if thou hadst been killed—a swooning of anger 
—by means of a word, then wouldst thou not be seen alive to — 
utter thy plaint again. Yet, alive I see thee, I testify to all, and 
I claim judgment as I have claimed it.’ 

‘Follow not a wretch who does not follow song, and has not 
the gift of a golden tongue, you of the beauty of deep-dritted 
snow! Let the longing of summer plead [or, let the summer 
birch plead]—splendid I behold thee, but plead I cannot, nor have 
I been able to plead ; powerless am I, but one who understands 
a wound, and may my lot be fair, since I have known this!’ 

‘Let the wise ones know that vengeances came, if Pendragon 
caused wrong to Gorlois ! ’ | 

Enraged, I exerted all my wit at words in pleading with the 
bright and courteous maid, yet wasit a long and unrewarded task « 
no easier than it were to pass from Mona to Erin through shallows 


all the way ! T. GWYNN. J ONES. 


Pe ae. 
as 


12. THE EVOLUTION OF THE WELSH HOME 


LitTLE has been done, so far as I am aware, to trace the history 
of the development of the Welsh home, and anyone-who tries to 
read intelligently many portions of Medizval Welsh literature 
with the aid of only such apparatus as is available will feel as if 
he were walking on ‘duckboards’ after dark. Professor Loth’s 
briliant interpretation of the kind of house implied in the 
‘correspondence ’ between Tristan and Esyllt, and Professor K. 
Meyer’s happy comparison of that house with Llyfrbrytf’s descrip- 
tion of Ceiriog’s old home at Penybryn, Llanarmon (Zett. fiir rom. 
Phil. xxvi, p. 716) show the tenacity of tradition and the possi- 
bilities of the material. True, the information available is tradi- 
tional, linguistic and indirect, for the material remains in Wales 
are very few for the early period; but it is no exaggeration, I 
think, to say that the meaning of cyntedd, the position of the fire- 
place, or the seat of the honoured guest in the hall, may afford 
determining clues to the age of a document, or at least to the 
stage of development relative to contemporary society. 

Jordanes says of the Britons, ‘ virgeas habitant casas, com- 
munia tecta cum pecore.’ We find in N.W. Europe in historica] 
times people living in movable houses drawn by bullocks, but 
there is a great gulf between these dwellings and Ehangwen 
(King Arthur’s Hall) or the great Tech Midchuarta of Tara, whose 
ground plan is given in the Yellow Book of Lecan, p. 418, or the 
wondertul hall of Gwlad Ieuan Fendigaid of Elucidarum, p. 171. 

Movable Houses.—There is considerable evidence that these 
were common in Wales as elsewhere. In the Life of G. ap 
Kynan (+1200) we find them taking movable houses with them 
“dug eu cyfanned ir gwladoed,’ 150.9 (Myv Arch. 733a?) ; “ Mudas- 
Sant eu hannedeu ganthunt,’ 142.22 (M.A. 73la34); ‘° gossot yr 
annedeu yny lle,’ 152.16 (M.A. 733b4). The expedition of Bran 
to Ireland seems to imply the same, for they improvise a bridge 
Over a navigable river with clwydeu, which may mean waitile or 
hurdles. 

A.S—VOL. IV. 97 H 


98 THE EVOLUTION OF THE WELSH HOME 


The word car, carr, which enters very often into Med. W. 
compounds like carddychwel, cargychwyn, carllawedrog, appears 
to me to imply or to have implied once a ‘movable home.’ Up 
to 1900 when Rhys and Jones published The Welsh People it was 
translated as Engl. car,andin A. Laws (Owen) II, 876, § xx., we find 
carlauedrauc (carrifractus). In Appendix D of Welsh People it 
is argued that car in these words means kin. Butcar (vehicle) isa 
title to possession of land, and we find ‘cum karro ad terram 
venerit, A. Laws II, 858, xxv.; dyuot a charr yr tur, Pen. MS. 364, 
fol. 33a. (See Lewis, Glossary M.W. Laws, pp. 59, 60.) 

According to Dirksen’s Manuale the house in the Roman 
Laws was regarded as one of the movable things, “ Mobilis res- 


fundus et aedes,’ s.v. mobilis, and Ihering corroborates this 


(Hvol. of the Aryans, p. 105). In the Life of St. Kevin (Plummer, 
Vit. Sanct. Hib. 1, 247) we find, ‘ Die constituto tu cum tuis ad me 
ueni, ut sarcinas et edes fratrum ad alium locum, a Deo nobis 
constitutum, transferatis.’ 

It may be risky to regard cartref as one of this series of car- 
compounds. It appears to be assumed that cartref = car kin, 
clan, tref home. Grupp (Kultur d. alt. Kelt. u. Germ., p. 124) has 
drawn a ground plan of such a communal home. It is divided 
into four divisions for four families of four members each, but to 
support it he equates gwely (bed) with wall, and rhandir with 
Rand, so that it does not beget confidence. Carennyd is the usual 
word for the nine degrees of kinship regarded as a unit and not 
car, and Grupp’s communal home would barely provide for so 


many. It appears to me impossible to accept car-tref = kin-— 


home, and that car ‘frame,’ “vehicle, etc., is preferable. 

The word is very sparingly used in Med. Welsh, and when it 
is used as cartrefu (R. Bk. 1, 268, 17, the only instance in the vol.) 
it is not inconsistent with movable home. The word is unknown 
in the Gwentian dialect, I think, and home is always tref. Oti e 
nhre, Mynd o dre, ete. 


I assume that these houses were, as.a rule, built of wattle 


attached to a framework. Howel Dda’s hunting lodge and 
conference room is described as made of peeled rods (Pen.MS. 
364, f. la) and is regarded as the usual thing ; and presumably 
adeiu- “to build’ preserves the original meaning ‘to wattle.’ 
The wattle of a primitive house are well described in Bulleid and 
Grey (Lake Village of Glastonbury, 1911-13, pp. 132 sqq.): ‘ Three 
hurdles of house wattle were discovered in Mound LVI of similar 


e 


THE EVOLUTION OF THE WELSH HOME 99 


make and height.... The measurements were as follows: 
Max. width 10 feet 6 inches. Upright pieces were made of split 
wood 6 feet 3 inches high, and placed at intervals of 43 to 63 inches. 
The ends were squared for fitting into mortise holes and measured. 
14 inches by # inch. The interlacing wattles were covered with 
bark and measured 4 to 2 inch in diameter. ... The wattle 
ends projected for 4 or 5 inches beyond the terminal uprights and 
were not secured by turning or finished off in any way. At the 
distance of 18 inches from the lower end of a terminal upright, a 
piece of plaited withe was found encircling the upright, having 
the appearance of having been used for binding the hurdle to a 
post or to another hurdle.’ Two pieces of oak planks with small 
mortise holes were found with the three hurdles and formed, 
according to the writer’s opinion, portions of a rectangular hut. 
This appears to correspond to the building of a M.W. barn where 
there were three bangors (hurdles of wattle) and the door, also of 
wattle, was fastened with three withes, two on one post and one 
on the other, to shut it (B. Chirk, p. 114). Archeologists are, 
apparently, not agreed whether the round hut and the rectan- 
sular belong to two different stages of development. We find 
round wattled huts on the Antonine column in the Louvre 
Museum, and about ninety such circular huts were found in 
Glastonbury. Cryndy might mean literally a ‘circular’ or 
‘beehive hut,’ but as cryn- enters into so many compound words 
where the meaning ‘round’ is inadmissible this must not be 
pressed, e.g. we have cryn bont, cryn afon, cryn llwdyn, cryn was 
(= erynffast, crymffast ?) lodes gron, plant crynion, etc. 

The frequent references to one colofn or post as the centre of 
the house and the place of honour seem to imply a round building 
with a central post as at Glastonbury, where it was well marked 
and where it was fixed into a socket in the hearthstone. 

There is an expression in the Laws of Wales which seems to 
imply a very definite step in advance in the construction of the 
primitive house; but a too literal rendering of it has possibly 
obscured the meaning. A price list of the various component 
parts of the primitive house is given several times, and there it is 
said that an ‘ Autumn house ’ is worth twelve pence, but if there 
is an ‘auger hole’ in it it is worth twenty-four pence (Wade 
Evans, Welsh Med. Laws, p. 102). Domus autumpnalis . . . cum 
foramine terebri xxiiiid. (Owen, A. Laws II, 803). It is 
difficult to see what other interpretation to put on it than that 


hy 


100 THE EVOLUTION OF THE WELSH HOME 


the house was built with fixtures held together by pegs fitting into 
‘auger holes.’ A mortised beam of oak with two perforations 
and an oak plank having small mortise holes arranged at regular 
intervals and parallel to one edge were found in fioor 11 of Mound 
LVI at Glastonbury. The Welsh Laws refer often to the “ prennau 
bras’ of the house, z.e. beams, door posts, rafters, etc., of the 
value of fourpence each. According to Fled Bricrend (Henderson’s 
Edit., pp. 4-5) it took a wagon team to carry each beam for the 
hall he describes, and it needed the strength of seven Ulstermen 
to fix each pole (but see O’Curry, Manners, iil., p. 21), and in 
Mesca Ulad (Hennessy, Todd Lecture, pp. 46-7) we find, ‘ a secure 
oaken house, with a yew door, three feet thick,’ and in Rees’ 
Cambro-Brit. Saints, p. 39, we find them bringing a tree the full 
load of a four-ox team though this was meant for a monastery. 

According to Professor Chambers, ° Heorot was clearly built 
of timber, held together with iron clamps’ (Beowulf, p. 361). 

t seems not unreasonable, therefore, to regard the house with an 
auger hole as a house which could be taken apart and put together 
easily, just as they still do in some parts of Hungary with thew 
churches, according to Henning (Das deutsche Haus, p. 164). 

These houses varied greatly in size, but the essential economy 
appears to be much the same, for we find Bran and his host 
furnishing tents and pavilions ‘after the manner of a hali” 
(h. Bk. 1730). 

The normal house had six gavel or post or fforch to support the 
roof or roof tree. The number of these is fixed as six whether it 
is the house of a king, free man or freed man, though the price 
varied greatly just as the price of a hound varied according to the 
status of its owner rather than the merits of the dog itself (Black 
Bk. of Chirk, 98-99 ; Pen.MS. 35f, 108a). We find references, 
however, to houses with a hundred columns (Red Bk. I, 38) and 
their capacity varies between one man and three thousand men 
of arms. 

It is not clear to me how these six columns of the Welsh — 
house were arranged, for they were all of the same value, while 
elsewhere we find the corner posts three times the value of the 
others. Sometimes the central pillar alone is referred to, and it 
was clearly regarded in Med. Wales as in Europe as the great 
pillar of the house. Here the nobleman sits and receives his 
visitors. There the shield is placed and no one is to do it dis- 
honour (S. Graal, Williams, pp. 192, 366, 389, etc.). In the Grail 


THE EVOLUTION OF THE WELSH HOME 101 


legend we find a chapel built on four columns (S. Graal, Williams, 
p-. 311). We also find the seat between the two pillars regarded 
as the place of honour. Chambers says: ‘The pillars in the centre 
were known as the high seat pillars . . . the central position 
facing the high seat pillars, and the fire was the most honourable ’ 
(Beowulf, p. 361).. In the Owen and Lunet story we find Arthur 
sitting on green rushes in the centre of the floor at Caerlleon 
oaeG,-T, 162.13). 

According to the Irish Law Tract ‘ Crith Gabhlach ’ (Brehon 
Laws, iv., pp. 304 sqq.) the standard house of a ‘ king without 
property ’ was 30 feet with a kitchen of 23 feet, and the dimensions 
of the houses of the various social grades are given. The houses 
vary greatly in size as well as in the proportion of the kitchen or 
back room to the hall. 

The size of the floors of the round huts of Glastonbury varied 
between 16 by 18 feet and 29 by 36 feet. 

Some time or other the house came to be divided into two or 
three divisions—the kyntedd, ladies’ chamber and kitchen. The 
inference from the 200 meal bags on the 100 columns in the 
house of Matholwch (Red Bk. I, 38) is that it was customary to 
use the house as store-room as well. The primitive house of 
Heilyn Goch (f. Bk. I, 145), though presumed to be the home of a 
twelfth century gentleman, suggests that that was yet undivided, 
as the hall and the kitchen appear to be one. 

After the partition of the newadd (neuadd is used for the whole 
house as well as the central hall) the important part was the 
cyntedd—this was the living-room of the family and retainers by 
day, and their bedroom by night. Gradually private bedrooms, 
etc.,were formed from it so that it dwindled in size and importance, 
and ultimately it came to have porch as one of its meanings. The 
literary form is cyntedd and the usual meaning is porch, entry, etc., 
in Mod. Welsh, but the colloquial form in 8S. Wales is cynted, and 
the meaning is open space, common, etc. (for the alternation of 
final d: dd in polysyllables, compare diffodd, diffod ; gormodd, 
gormod; Maes Hyfeidd, Maesyfed, etc.). Silvan Evans was 
perhaps misled by assuming that cyntedd was formed like cynor,, 
and that cynor was from cyn + dor, 7.e. ‘[a hut] in front of the 
door,’ but neither assumption is valid, think. On the strength 
of the modern literary meaning and form it is asserted that 
eyntedd is derived from *kintu-sed. Medieval Welsh poetry 
establishes the current form as cyntedd rhyming with medd, and 


102 THE EVOLUTION OF THE WELSH HOME 


the meaning as the place of honour where bards drank mead with 
their host. Apart from medizeval texts, British climate suggests 
that a porch would not be such an ideal place in which to drink 
mead as to win the hearty praise of contemporary poets, as in the 
following : “Atwyn med yg kynted y gerdawr,’ B.Tal., p. 9.4; 
‘Gwerth med eg kynted gan lliwedawr. hyueid hir,’ B. Aneirin, 
p. 2.4%; ‘ Bual oed arwynn eg kynted eidyn,’ sbid., p. 5.°; * Ni 
didolit: yng kynted o ved gwirawt, sbid., p. 7.2; ‘° Ceffid yng 
gyntet med a bragawt’ (of G. ap Kynan), Myv. Arch. 140a°°; 
and Bk. Tal., p. 24. has ‘ Fienitwyd yg kynted.’ 

In Red Bk. I, 145 the men had entered the house and later 
advanced to that part called the cyntedd. Cyntedd is given as 
buarth by Cynddelw (Geiriadur Cym. Cymraeg, also Geiriadur y 
Bardd). It is clear to me that the word has contracted in its 
literary sense rather than expanded in its colloquial sense. 

It appears to me that it might, then, be equated without 
violence with the Candetum of Isidore and Columella. According to 
Isidore’s Origines Bk. XV, chap. XV., §6 we find : ‘ Galli candetum 
appelant in areis urbanis spatium centum pedum quasi centetum. 
In agrestibus autem pedes centum quinquaginta quadratum 
lustum candetum vocant.’ Jubainville (Rev. Celi. xxiv., pp. 
317-8) regards candetum as for cantetum, a derivative of the 


Celtic form for a hundred; and Rhfs (Celtic Inscriptions of 


France and Italy, pp. 18-19) regards cynt- as a weak form of 
cant, a hundred ; kintu-sed appears then improbable. 

The fireplace in the cyntedd or neuadd is also of much signifi- 
cance. In the Glastonbury huts the hearths were nearly in the 
centre and made of baked clay, marl, stone, etc. (Bulleid and Grey, 
I, 58 sqq.). The hearth in Med. Welsh was pentan or pentanfaen 
(Wade-Evans 136.18). Later we find pentan hayarn (Lewis, 
Llanstephan MS. 116, p. 23, 1. 34). In the meanwhile it was 
perhaps undergoing a change in use and form. We find it called 
talbren (Llanst. MS. 69, p. 61),and also we find it glossed by tripod. 


It is even known as pren itself, and this would have been very © 


unlikely if it was used as the old hearthstone. It looks as if it 
were developing to be the smoke screen at the back of the fire. 
In the neuadd of Heilyn Goch (Rd. Bk. I, 145) there was an open 
fire as usual, but another fire is kindled, for cooking and this was 
possibly the usual cooking pit on one side. It may be straining it 
too much, but one is reminded of the cooking pit of Cain Adamnan. 
(Meyer, C. Adamnan, Oxford, 1905, p. 3). ‘Cumalach (from 


a ee 


THE EVOLUTION OF THE WELSH HOME 103 


cumal bondmaid) was a name for women till Adamnan came to 
free them. And this was the cumalach, a woman for whom a hole 
was dug at the end of the door . . . the end of the great spit was 
placed upon her till the cooking of the portion was ended.’ 

In the ground plan of Tech Midchuarta three fires are marked, 
so also in Mr. Gudmundson’s Icelandic Hall. The Welsh Laws 


assume one central fire and a fire for cooking, but there are 


references to the Edling’s fire which was reserved for himself. 
After dividing the house into three divisions the cyntedd itself 
was subdivided into two—the uch-cynted or ‘dais’ and the 
is-cynted. At first the floor was even, as a rule, and knights could 
ride in on horseback and pay their respect to the master of the 
house without dismounting. Heilyn Goch’s cyntedd was different, 
though one end of the house was clearly superior to the other, 
for the floor was pitted and slippery with the stale and droppings 
of cattle, and the men sank ankle deep in it. This appears to 
be in keeping with Jordanes’ report above that they dwelt under 


_ the same roof as their cattle. The floor is similar to many found 
at Glastonbury—a thick layer of brushwood and then another 
layer of leaves, but these were apparently wanting in Heilyn’s. 


Space forbids noticing the names of the windows, the various 


. doors, the introduction of tie-beams, the coming of the loft, and the 


references to the underground store-room, or the provision of 
' separate bedrooms, but these and other features of the Medieval 
' Welsh home are of much interest in themselves and helpful to 
_ win from many a passage of literature a meaning which time and 
_ change of habits have made obscure. 


TIMOTHY LEWIS. 


18. A WASHER AT THE FORD 


One of the manuscripts in the Hengwrt collection contains 
marginalia that may be of some interest to the student of folk- 
lore and romance. They occur in Peniarth Manuscript 147 as 
additions to a list of Welsh place-names and written in a con- 
temporary though probably not identical hand with the 


| manuscript itself (dated about 1556). 


Possibly the most interesting item is on the margin of page 
10, in connection with the parish of Llanferres in Denbighshire. 
It reads somewhat as follows: 


In Denbighshire in a parish known as Llanferres is found Rhyd y 
Gyfarthfia [=the Ford of Barking]. And in the olden time all the 
dogs of the country came to that ford to bark. No one would venture 
to go there to discover the cause until Urien Rheged came. And 
when he came to the bank of the ford he could see nothing but a 
woman washing. Thereupon the dogs ceased to bark. Urien Rheged 
seized the maiden and had his will, upon which she said: ‘ May the 
blessing of God be upon the feet that brought thee here.’ ‘Why ?’ 
said he. ‘ Because it was fated for me to be washing here until a 


| Christian man won me. And I am the daughter of the King of 


Annwin. If thou wilt return in a year’s time thou wilt be allowed to 
take possession of the child.’ And so he came and received there a 
son and a daughter, namely. Owein ab Urien and Morfydd verch 
Kirien. ! 


The most obvious relations of this tale are with that group of 


| legends known as the ‘ Washer at the Ford.’ The lady was doomed 


to washing and the dogs of the countryside forgathered in order 


to call attention to her plight. It has, therefore, wide connec- 


tions in the folklore world, extending even as far as Korea. In 


_ Europe it is to be found in Spain and in France ; it exists in all 


| 


the Celtic countries and is extremely popular in Brittany. Its 


constant element is that of a woman—very rarely a man— 


| 
] 


1 The original has been transcribed by Dr. Gwenogvryn Evans and 


| printed in full in the account of MS. 147 in the Report of the Commission 


on Historical Manuscripts. 
105 


106 A WASHER AT THE FORD 


washing clothes or some other object. As a rule they choose 
the night for carrying on their occupations, and prefer pools or 
other still water to the banks of rivers. Generally they hold 
some element of danger for the passer-by who takes notice of 
them. 1 

Various explanations are given of the nature of these nocturnal 
visitors. In France one of the most popular types of story 
regards them as the dead revisiting their old haunts. As a rule 
they are expiating a sin committed in life. Commonly they 
have broken the sanctity of the Sabbath or other Holy Day by 
washing clothes, or they have torn poor men’s clothes by washing 
them carelessly or beating too hard in order to save soap. Perhaps 
the most frequent explanation is that which describes them as 
infanticides and makes them wash, not linen, but the bodies of 
their slain children. Women dead from drowning or suicide, 
or those unbaptized or unconfirmed are also said to show their 
restlessness by washing clothes near the haunts of their former 
activities. 

Elsewhere, and frequently indeed in France as well, the 
washer is a creature of the Other World. They may be described, 


as at Bayeux, merely as fairies who come out at night to wash 


their linen by the light of the stars. Or they may have some 
of the common attributes of fairies such as that of testing men 
by giving them choice of gifts. Asa rule, however, their presence 
is a source or a sign of danger to men. Several stories come from 
Brittany in which the passers-by are punished for offering to 
help or for beating the clothes on the wrong side. Malice goes 
a step farther where the fairy offers to help a woman and take 
her clothes home, for she would have caused the woman’s death 
had not the latter been warned in time and prevented the fairy’s 


entrance in time-honoured fashion by sweeping the floor, putting ~ 


besom and tripod in place, washing her feet and throwing out 
the water. When they do not meditate mischief they may be 
an involuntary sign of coming death to those who see them, 
and their linen the shrouds of those about to die. So Cormac, 


in the Irish story of Da Choca’s Hostel, saw at Druim Airthir a 


red woman on the edge of the ford washing her chariot and its 


cushions and its harness, and chanting a prophecy of the 


destruction of Cormac: ‘his are the chariot and cushions and har- 
ness, and the blood is the blood of his army. . . .’ Among the 


1 The works consulted in preparing this article are noted at the end. 


| him. 


A WASHER AT THE FORD 107 


peasantry of Ireland and the Highlands of Scotland, in France, 
in Brittany and Alsace, a similar tradition obtains, that the 
washer is a sign of death, not unlike the bean sidhe. In some 
parts of Scotland their power is destroyed if they are seen first. 
In Brittany—as in far-away Korea—they ate sometimes known 
to bring death actively to people by wrecking ships or dragging 
them into the water. 

Such are the “washerwomen of night’ whether ghosts or 


| fairies, apparitions bringing trouble and generally death to 


those who see them. They are essentially different, too, from 


_ the fairy washerwoman of Llanferres whose own salvation depends 


on the appearance of a human being. The spell under which 
she suffers may indeed be paralleled in the ordinary ‘ washer 
at the ford’ story. If the spectral lavandiéres of France are 
Christianised forms of earlier fairies, the compulsion to do their 
penance may well have been some kind of spell. Examples, 
too, are found of the washer working under magic. Thus in 
Provence one hears of young girls singing and laughing to attract 
the passers-by. Anyone who comes is pushed into the water 
while the sorceresses are changed into horrible beasts. In 
Gascony a song describes the fairy doing her task until La wierge 
mariée comes to set her free. And in one locality in Brittany 
the washerwomen, Kannerez Noz, sing : 


Jusqu’a ce qu'il ne vienne un chrétien sauveur : 
Ii nous faut blanchir notre linceul 
Sous la neige et le vent. 


The terms here, it will be noted, are very similar to those in the 


Denbighshire tradition, ‘until a Christian man... it was 


feted...” 


In outline, therefore, this Welsh legend seems to fit into the 
* washer at the ford’ tradition. Its details, however, are new 
and closely resemble one if not two other motifs of romance. 


For the fairy’s method of destroying the spell is by contact 


with a mortal, and she has effective if peculiar means of wooing 


By virtue of this latter power our fay seems to belong to the 
‘fairy mistress’ type, exemplified in its purer form in the 


_ romance of Owein a Luned (and Iweim) and the * Breton lays ’ 
_ of Lanval and Graelent. The fairy falls in love with a mortal 
_and invites him to her realm. Sometimes he must overcome 


108 A WASHER AT THE FORD 


obstacles in order to reach his destination ; at other times the 
task is quite simple. The two facts that Urien is led to his 
fairy through the barking of dogs and that he finds her near 
water are evidence that this story is connected in some way with 
the fairy mistress genre. Almost always there is a messenger, 
though generally a more direct guide than we find here; very 
frequently the Other World is beyond or under water, But 
the most important point of all is that the woman herself tells 
Urien that she is the daughter of the King of the Other World. 

She differs from the real fairy mistress, however, in that 
Urien finds her on earth, and in that she is not complete mistress 
over her world. The latter is the more important difference, 
and to a certain extent brings about the first. Disenchantment 
by contact with a mortal is an extremely common story, but as 
a rule the spell is upon a human being who resumes his own form 
when the condition is fulfilled. Loathly ladies—exemplified 
in The Wife of Bath’s Tale and a large number of popular 
romances and ballads—Frog Princes and Enchanted Princesses 


are members of this class, and all agree in making the chief 


character a mortal. In the stories of which the Swan Maiden 
is the chief example, however, a fairy becomes human for the 
period of her human companionship, a fair approach to the 
situation in the Llanferres folk-tale. 

Resemblances of this kind between miarchen and romances 
are interesting to trace ; and it is possible that this Welsh story 
is a combination, from some remote period, of various motifs. 
On the other hand, it is also possible, and rather more satisfactory, 
to see in it an elaborate version of the story of the Washer at 
the Ford—of the kind in which the woman is bespelled or 
punished until the event occurs which will put an end to the 
enchantment. 


Further details may be found in the following works: 
‘THE WASHER AT THE Forp: 

Anatole Le Braz, La Legende de la Mort, I, pp. xlv., 52, 54, 
290; Il, pp. 214-219. 

P. Sébillot, Traditions de la haute Bretagne, I, 248. 

P. Sébillot, Le Folklore de France (see Index under lavandieres 
de nuit). 

G. G. King, Modern Language Notes, XX XIII, 354 ff. 

G. Schoepperle, Journal of English and Germanic Philology, 
XVIII, pp. 60 ff. 

Revue Celtique, X XI, 157 (Da Choca’s Hostel). 


A WASHER AT THE FORD 109 


J. G. Campbell, Superstitions of the Highlands and Islands of 
Scotland, p. 43. 

Folklore, IX, 12, 91-92 (Hebrides); X, 121, 123 (Ireland) ; 
XI, 332 (Korea). 

Farry Mistress AND DISENCHANTMENT : 

G. L. Kittredge, Gawain and the Green Knight, pp. 200 ff., 231 ff. 

A. C. Ll. Brown, Iwain, p. 98 ff. 

Maynadier, The Wife of Bath’s Tale, pp. 19 ff., 191. 


GWENAN JONES. 


| 
Z| 
{ 


"i 


» 


14. AN OUTLINE STORY OF OUR NEIGH- 
BOURHOOD 


THe far quiet valleys that run among the hills of Wales are 
strongholds of ancient heritages obliterated from the memories, 
though not from the bones, of the men of the English plain by the 


- onset of many waves of thought and of custom across the Channel 


at intervals during at least 4,000 years. Yet is the way through 
England by no means the only continental connection of the Celtic 
fringe, and it has been a source of deadly wrongs that there has 
been too little recognition of the membership that fringe claims by 
right of age-long contribution in the comity of Europe. Hartwell 
Jones' tells of pilgrim bands voyaging to the shrine of the great 
St. James at Compostella, the lives of the ancient British Saints 
give clues to similar links centuries before, and these associations 
are but the continuations of intercourse revealed to us by 
archeological evidence along the shores of the western seas from 
Roman times back beyond the dawn of the Bronze Age. 

On the plain new communications time after time have 
corrupted old manners, whereas in the hills of the west the home 
tradition has often assimilated the new importations to itself, 
though the open coastal plains of South Wales have felt as many 
changes as most parts of eastern Britain. The contrasts between 
the English plains and the Welsh valleys are paralleled by those 
between the English entries into Wales and the remoter glens that 
radiate out seaward from the moorland hills. The gateways of 
Englishry are the Dee entry at Ruabon, notoriously difficult at all 
times, the wider open Severn valley with its accessory links through 
Middletown, through Minsterley, and through Craven Arms, the 
Wye, and the coastal plains of north and south. The radiating 
glens make up the ancient Gwynedd in the north-west and 
Deheubarth in the south-west. Between the two our district 
forms a narrow connecting link, a strip nestling beneath the deso- 

4G. Hartwell Jones, ‘Celtic Britain and the Pilgrim World,’ 


Y Cymmrodor, Vol. XXIII, 1912. 
111 


112 AN OUTLINE STORY OF OUR NEIGHBOURHOOD 


late moorlands of Plynlymon and forming as it were the neck of 
the hour-glass, whereof the bulbs are Gwynedd and Deheubarth. 

In the old days of poor communications and a social order of 
clannish herdsmen it was difficult for the Wales of the hour-glass 
just mentioned to secure effective unity, and while this helped to 
keep old dialects alive in the separate valleys, it hindered the 
development of a capital, and so, for lack of a centre of continuous 
administration, Welsh law died out. With ancient speech have 
survived oral (and therefore bardic) tradition, insistence on kinship 
as a social basis, and many other old-fashioned ways. Scotland, 
with its little Midland Valley open to both seas, has had a very 
different fate ; old forms of speech and the old oral tradition have 
gone, though the pride of kinship survives in the Highlands, and 
on the other hand with her great metropolitan cities Scotland has: 
kept and developed her law and much besides. The common 
heritage that may be said to define the Scottish people thus. 
contrasts strongly with that which belongs to the Welsh people, 
and the differences show how difficult, perhaps how futile, it is 
to try to define nationality for political ends. 

If a capital of Welsh Wales had developed in pre-industrial 
times it must almost inevitably have been situate in our 
district along the western flank of Plynlymon, which ever lifts its 
mighty shoulders to retard the westward advance of the ways 
of the eastern plain. But our district was too narrow and too: 
poor to develop a capital city, so it has been called upon to function. 
as a link, not wholly belonging to either, while unable to exert: 
metropolitan influence, and to gather north and south around it. 
With these thoughts in mind we may try to follow out the 
evidences of men’s work in adjusting themselves to our district 
and in adjusting that district to their needs. 

The first European men with big brains and the erect posture 
had to cope with a region just recovering from the Ice Age, and. 
even when the glaciers had vanished they must have found Wales 
a difficult place, for they still depended on stone tools, and Wales: 
lacked flint save for small pebbles on her coasts. It may well be 
that much of the earliest evidence of man in our district 1s now 
beneath the sea, lost for ever in the sunken Cantref y Gwaelod.+ 
This was a lowland formed of loose materials dumped by glaciers: | 
which once had crept southward down the Irish Sea. It settled. | 
down and ultimately disappeared beneath the waves almost | 

1 See O. T. Jones, in Welsh Outlook, 1921, p. 309. | 


AN OUTLINE STORY OF OUR NEIGHBOURHOOD 113 


certainly within human times, for we have legends that seem 
to have a foundation in fact, but most probably before about 
1500 B.c. Later dates have been suggested, but the weight of 
opinion seems in favour of a belief that not much coast-change has 
occurred since that remote date. The Sarns, which are now such 
features of the coast of Cardigan Bay, are said by Professor O. T. 
Jones to be the low watersheds between the broad open valleys 
of the old land ; they may well have been natural roads, but hardly 
artificial constructions. 

Borth beach often shows a large area of tree trunks, chiefly . 
pines, telling of a now submerged forest, and careful study has 
shown both that the forest grew in a wet climate and that the 


| . prevalent winds were westerly as now.! The advance of pebble 


and sand ridges inward has finally dammed back the drainage of 
the country east of Borth and has converted it into the great bogs 
of Gors Fochno and the lower Dyfi. 

Few relics of prehistoric antiquity have as yet been rescued 
from Gors Fochno save the famous bronze shield in the British 
Museum, but above the storm beach just south of the Ystwyth 
mouth, geological students of Aberystwyth some years ago came 
upon large numbers of implements chipped from small flint 
pebbles.2 It has as yet been impossible to date this flint work- 
ing, though some of the little implements look like those of what 
archeologists call the Tardenoisian period,* near the transition 
between the older.and newer Stone Ages. The question imme- 
diately arises as to whether the beach, i.e. the coastline, was 
situated more or less as now when the workshop was in full swing. 
As several other workshops are similarly placed near the present 
shore lines of Wales, it seems probable that this question must be 
answered affimatively, and if this is the case the workshop is 


almost certainly of much later date, even though we have flints 
from submerged sites off Pembrokeshire. Indeed, in Wales it. is 
rarely safe to argue from fashion to age. The thorough scientific 


investigation of our flint workshop is a pressing need. Whatever 
the date of the workshop it has been proved that worked flints, in 
several cases undoubted beach flints, have been collected from the 
earthwork (probably Iron Age) of Pendinas just above as well as 

1 See J. Fairgrieve, Q. J. R. Met. Soc., Vol. XLVI, 1920, p. 438. 

2 See Roger Thomas, Arch. Camb., Ser. 6, Vol. XII, 1912, p. 211. 

* See M. C. Burkitt, Prehistory, 1921, ch. 12. 

4 ‘Submerged Flint-working Sites off Pembrokeshire,’ Georg. Journ., 
LIII, 1919, pp. 120-1. 

AS.—VOL. Ig. . I 


Cn 


114 AN OUTLINE STORY OF OUR NEIGHBOURHOOD 


from various spots on the Plynlymon moorland. These are 
indications of movement or intercourse and increase the difficulties 
of dating. Indeed the more one studies Welsh problems the more 
one feels that a good deal of ‘Stone Age’ life and equipment 
persisted practically down to Roman times, and it is thus very 
dangerous to try to date finds of stone implements on negative 
evidence arising from absence of metal. 

The last great phase of the (Neolithic) Stone Age, called by 
archeologists the Robenhausian period, was quite probably 
contemporary with early metal periods of the eastern 
Mediterranean. It seems to have witnessed the spread of the art 
of grinding stone implements through central Europe apparently 
from south-east to north-west and west. The penetration of 
this art into Wales may have been delayed, but at all events 
when it arrived it brought a marked enrichment of life, for several 
of the ancient crystalline rock masses of Wales furnished excellent 
raw material for the artists of the new fashion. ‘The College Mu- 
seum at Aberystwyth has examples of ground and polished stone 
axes of unusual interest. Some are of Merionethshire rock, but an 
important little group was found at Bwlch-y-ddwyallt, near Strata 
Florida, and were generously presented by Mr. D. Jones, Pontrhy- 
dfendigaid, through the good offices of Miss Williams, Lledrod. 
One is of superfine workmanship and has the edge slightly expanded 
after the manner of so many bronze axes. The stone of which it 
is made can be identified geologically as that found near St. 
David’s Head, which was almost certainly a calling station on an 
early prehistoric sailing route to the gold workings of the Wicklow 
Hills. Anyone with a touch of romance might build up a story 
of a native going to the traders’ station and coming away, not 
indeed with a costly bronze axe, but with a vision of one which, 
with infinite patience and skill, he expressed in stone. But this | 
would be, of course, pure fancy, and we must note that other | 
eround stone axes with expanded edges have been found in some — 
parts of England ; the utmost reserve should be exercised in any 
attempt to date them at present. 

Evidence of some kind of occupation of West Wales by man 
in an early period is available in other ways, for the Plynlymon 
moorland is one of the places in which one of the earliest types of 
big-brained, erect-postured man survives in remarkable fashion.? | 


1 See details in H. J. Fleure, Journ. Roy. Anthr. Inst., 1920, which gives | 
bibhography. 


— a ry rrr: 


AN OUTLINE STORY OF OUR NEIGHBOURHOOD 115 


Physical types known from skulls and skeletons of the Auignacean 
and Solutrean periods of the Old Stone Age (Grimaldi, Combe 
Capelle, Brunn, Brux), and of a probably somewhat later period 
(several river-bed skulls, etc., from Britain), are found living in 
the modern populations of the hills of Sardinia, Tras-os-Montes 
(N. Portugal), the Dordogne (France), the Carmarthen Van and 
Plynlymon, the Rinns of Galloway,! the moorlands at the back 
of Aberdeenshire and many parts of Ireland. They are dark- 
haired, dark-eyed, often rather dark-skinned, but at times also of 
florid complexion, their heads are very long and narrow, rising 
steeply on either side to a prominent median ridge, temporal 
hollows are well marked, the brow ridges are stronger than in 


- most modern men, and the forehead recedes, the eyes are deepset 


and the orbits low, the cheek-bones project out at the side, the 
nose is broad and the nostrils wide, the upper jaw projects forward, 
the frame is bony and the stature average or just below, the arm 
is often relatively long. It is interesting to note in passing that 
this type throws up a good number of people of decided intellectual 
ability, and this has been noted among the women,’ who are also 
often very good looking. 

_ No one would try to argue that these types (there is really 
more than one) arrived, let us say, in the Plynlymon country in 
Aurignacean times, but they must surely have arrived fairly early 
as they have avoided being swamped by modified descendants 
who form the general substratum of British population as well 
as of that of many parts of Western Europe. These modified 
descendants have the head more continuously curved and less 
ridged, the brow ridges weaker, the cheek-bones and jaws less 
prominent, and throughout their physique they suggest changes 
due to development of civilisation. The pressure of strong jaw 
muscles (‘temporal muscles’) no longer in them so effectively 
resists the influences of the growing brain tending to mould the 
skull into a more continuous curve. Interpreting this we are led 
to think of better care in infancy and more milk among people 
acquiring the art of herding animals, both developments making 
it less necessary to have firm and strong jaw muscles in very 
early life, while increased cooking of food gives decreased need 
for jaw-power even in adult years. So we may picture men’s 
physical frames conforming themselves gradually to the growth 


* de Brus Trotter, Galloway Gossip, 1877, pp. 17-18. 
* Miss R. Fleming in Man, April, 1922. 


EE 


116 AN OUTLINE STORY OF OUR NEIGHBOURHOOD 


of men’s thought, especially through the prolongation of the 
period of infantile plasticity and educability. If our district 
has no actual datable remains of these early stages of prehistory it 
at least keeps for us, better than most regions, in its present 
population evidences as to the steps whereby some Huropean 
types of men attained their present features. 

Towards the end of the Stone Age in Western Europe, when 
the use of metal had already developed in the eastern Mediter- 
ranean, Britain received new immigrants. One series can be 
traced across Europe north of the Alps to the British East Coast, 1 
but of its penetration into Wales little is as yet known, and we 
have no examples of its ‘Beaker’ pottery from our district. 
The other stream, that of megalith builders,” spread around 
S.W. Europe to Brittany, Cornwall, the Welsh peninsulas, and 
Ireland. The great stone monuments or megaliths are of several 
different types, due probably to different peoples and different 
dates, and it is thought by many that their builders were metal 
prospectors lured by Irish gold and copper and later on by 
Cornish tin. Perry has shown that the megalith areas in S.W. 
Kurope are in several cases areas of minerals. One may think 
of the interspersed distribution of several of these types of 
monuments as paralleled to some extent by the interspersed 
distribution of ports of call and the like belonging to various 
European peoples around the coast of Africa. 

The Dolmen is the most typical megalith, with one, or some- 
times two, large capstones resting on the ends of a few standing 
stones. In our district we have but one doubtful one, at Bwlch 
Corog and a remnant at Llanddeiniol. The solitary standing 
stone (Menhir) and the circle of standing stones are types of 
monument more widely distributed in Wales. Our district has a 
fine menhir at Bron Caradog, and stone circles at Yspytty Cynfyn 
and Llanbrynmair. Both here and in Flintshire these stone-circles 
are situated near lead mines. The Allée Couverte and the Long — i 
Barrow are varieties of the great stone monument which do not : 
occur near us. The Cistvaen or Stone-Box is illustrated by the 
grave at Bedd Taliesin. 

Our district has yielded a bronze axe (Yspytty Cynfyn), a 


1 See references in H. J. Fleure and T. C. James, Journal Roy. Anthr. 
Inst., V9LG, op: Most 

2 See references in H. J. Fleure and L. Winstanley, Journ. Roy. Anthr. 
Ivst., 1918, p: doo it. 


AN OUTLINE STORY OF OUR NEIGHBOURHOOD 117 


bronze dagger of early Irish type (Cwmystwyth) and old stone 
ore-crushers of unknown age from the copper workings at 
Cwm Ystwyth. 

The College Museum possesses a good series of barbed arrow- 
heads of flint and agate, finely chipped on both faces, and showing 
Irish relationships. It is likely that they belong to a time later 
than the Stone Age. The Irish style both in these arrowheads 
from Bugeilyn and in the dagger from Cwm Ystwyth suggest con- 
nections between Ireland and the West of Wales which are a feature 
of later periods and of Welsh tradition. The great stone monu- 
ments.are the centres of the earliest definite traditions in Western 
Hurope, and our district furnishes a notable piece of evidence for 


_ the churchyard at St. John’s, Yspytty Cynfyn, is an old stone 


circle with some stones still standing and something like a fosse 
and vallum within. Examples of similar continuity of consecra- 
tion are common in Brittany and Ireland. 

On or near the areas cf great stone monuments near the coasts 
of Western Europe occurs a type of man with broad head and 
dark colouring, tall stature in some cases, but stalwart build in 
almost all.. This type is provisionally associated with some 
movement or other connected with the mining and megalithic 
activities of long ago, but we may repeat that these activities 
need not all be ascribed even to the ‘ Bronze Age.’ 

With increased skill in bronze the bronze sword! was evolved 
and the use of it spread, probably with invasions, from Central 
Kurope across Britain to Ireland. From one or two finds it 
seems likely that the men of the Bronze Sword used one or two 
routes across Wales, but it would seem they moved rapidly to 
Treland as a goal. Mr. Peake advances arguments of value to 
show that these swordsmen were the carriers of a language of 
the family of languages now generally used in Kurope and that 
they probably reached Ireland via Brittany as well as across 
Britain, and this suggestion reduces the old conflict of opinion 


about the spread of the root language of Gaelic to Ireland. 


Zimmer and Kuno Meyer? believed in the route from western 
Gaul, while Rhys? favoured that across Britain. But Peake 


1 See H. J. E. Peake’s forthcoming book, The Bronze Age and the 
Celtic World. 

= See H. Zimmer and Kuno Meyer, ‘Auf welchem Wege kamen die 
Goidelen,’ Abh. k. Preuss. Acad. Wiss., 1912. 

3 See Sir J. Rhys, Celtic Britain. 


118 AN OUTLINE STORY OF OUR NEIGHBOURHOOD 


would modify Rhys’ view by suggesting a rapid passage across 
Britain with probably only slight and local influences on language. 
We know very little of language in Britain until we come to the 
Iron Age just before Roman times (La Téne period). As one of 
the most pressing needs of anthropology is an equation between 
archeological and linguistic movements, the advent of new 
evidence is valuable even if the suggestions made should prove to 
need modification. The importance of bronze-sword finds near 
the lower Thames and the Wash is an important point. The 
occurrence of Gwyddel place names (including Llwyn-y-Gwyddel, 
near Llandre, and Wig-y-Gwyddel, on the Aberystwyth shore) 
suggests Irish connections, but most probably these would be of 
later date. 

Two valuable papers by Dr. Wheeler and Mr. R. U. Sayce 
have just appeared in T'ransactions Hon. Soc. of Cymmrodorion. 1 
They suggest, independently, that the earthworks of Wales 
indicate the spread of men of the Iron Sword (La Tene culture) 
into Wales after the beginning of Roman occupation of Britain. 
These earthworks are often on the lower hill-brows overlooking 
what was once valley woodland ere it was cleared by man. They 
are specially numerous and important in our lead-mining area, 
and occur in patches in some other lead-mining areas too, and 
Mr. Sayce argues that they may also have been headquarters of 
military chieftains overlording areas of cultivation below them. 
They are nearly always situated amongst the gorse and thorn and 
bracken, which of old gave each May a crown of gold and white 
above the fresh green, and each November a red-brown line above 
the sea of falling leaves. The persistence of traces of the old 
calendar which pivoted on May and November is a very interesting 
feature of the life of our district. 

Wales also has rough-stone fortresses which seem related in 
part to a coastwise trade or movement, though Mr. Edward Owen 
has pointed out in conversation that this can hardly account 
completely for Carn Goch, Carmarthenshire. They seem akin 
to the stone fortresses of the last pre-Roman centuries in Gaul, 
and such finds as have been made suggest they were in use during 
the period of Roman occupation in Britain.2 Unfortunately 


1 See Trans. Hon. Soc. Cymmrodorion, 1920-21; also articles by F. 8. 
ee in Aberystwyth Studies, Vol. II, 1914, p. 465. 
2 See O. G. 8S. Crawford, in Arch. Camb., 1920, p. 123 ane also Wheeler 
and Sayce, op. cit. 


AN OUTLINE STORY OF OUR NEIGHBOURHOOD 119 


finds are very rare, and it would seem that the Welsh, being a 
herding people, had many leather utensils rather than pots which 
elsewhere give the archeologist so much help. 

The Romans had some arrangement which allowed them to 
hold Wales lightly after a certain time, and they appear to have 
done very little in West Wales. The Roman road approaching 
our district from the south stops at Lledrod and is not identifiable 
again with certainty till one gets north of the Mawddach estuary ; 
west of Caersws the evidence of the Romans becomes scrappy in 
spite of the existence of Pennal. The district thus left includes 
our area of lead mines and earthworks, but no rough-stone 
fortresses. The same area is rich in place-names, which soon 


_~ become scarce beyond its borders. Such are Esgair,! Trum and 


Taren. ‘There is a distinct dialect boundary, according to Rhys, 
both at the Wyre, near Lledrod, and at the Mawddach. This all 
points to some peculiarity in the life of our district during the 
period of linguistic crystallisation, and that period was probably 
near or during Roman times. The find of a hoard of Roman 
coins (A.D. 250-300) near Capel Bangor on an old line of com- 
munication does not imply any marked Roman activity locally. 
Such evidence as we have from physical types of men as well 
as from archeology seems to point to the immigration of the Iron 
Age (probably of Romano-British times) as coming up the Severn 
and Wye valleys and probably at the other entries. So far as 
the Severn wedge is concerned, the moorlands of Plynlymon and 
the wild fastnesses of Dinas Mawddwy were doubtless formidable 
barriers, and we may well recall the long persistence of the 
Gwylitiaid Cochionin both. Behind these barriers Rhys identified 
our local dialect 2 as in his opinion an old-fashioned Welsh, and, 
however that may be, the same two barriers have effectively 
resisted the advance of Englishry so that throughout our era 
North Cardiganshire seems to have been the narrow neck con- 
necting the north-west and south-west areas of Welsh Wales. 
Within that area the Dyfi estuary and Gors Fochno offer 
obstacles to intercommunication between north and south which 
no traveller by the Cambrian Railways is likely to underestimate. 
It is a very general rule that stations develop on either side of 


1 «Hsgair’ reaches down to the Towy and has a wider distribution 
than the other two, but the district between Mawddach and Wyre is the 
chief centre for all these names. 

2 See Rhys and Brynymor Jones, The Welsh People, 1900, ch. 1. 


120 AN OUTLINE STORY OF OUR NEIGHBOURHOOD 


ereat obstacles to communication and this is one factor of the 
rise of definitive settlements in the Rheidol valley south of the 
obstacle and at the west coast end of passes through the lead and 
moorland area. But there are doubtless other factors as well. 

The earthwork on Pendinas is one of the finest of its kind, and 
the site must have greatly encouraged the earthwork builders, 
while it may not be too heretical to suggest that the flint supply 
on the storm beach (Pen-y-Ro) beneath Pendinas was an economic 
factor. There was cultivable alluvium near by and the Rheidol 
and Ystwyth were no doubt valuable salmon streams, while the 
bay was another source of food. 

With the clearing of the lowlands and the valleyward move- 
ment of population, the latest stages of which we may trace so 
clearly by walking down hill through Llandre, for example, 
Pendinas would be superseded by Llanbadarnfawr, valued for its 
southward aspect, its dry bench above the flood plain, and its 
fresh water down the dingle. Its situation about a mile inland 
may have been some little protection against pirates. The 
association with the name of Padarn suggests that the place 
was of more than purely local consequence, and that the settlement 
was a fairly early one. Two old ‘Crosses’ 1 are now sheltered in 
the south transept of the finely-proportioned old church ; the 
older of the two seems to be an ancient sacred stone, perhaps 
modified for Christian purposes, the other is sometimes ascribed 
to the tenth century and has an interesting figure of a man in 
which the traditional spiral plays a part. These stones thus 
give us indications of a certain continuity from pre-Christian 
times, which is characteristic of the Celtic Church generally. 

Our district has three main Norman earthworks (Motte and 
Bailey type),? and some minor and doubtful ones. One guards the 
south bank of the Dyfi, north-west of the deep bend of that river 
near Glandyfi station. Castell Gwallter is on the hill-brow over 
Llandre and defends the coastal plateau against an advance from 
the north, and Castell Aberystwyth stands on a hill-brow just 
south-west of the bend of the Ystwyth and, again, defends the 
country behind it to the south from an attack coming from the 
north. Another large earthwork of this type lies just beyond our 
area at Ystrad Meurig, and between that and Castell Aberystwyth 

1 For details from this point onwards the reader should refer to G, 


Eyre Evans, Aberystwyth and its Court Leet. 
2 See F. 8. Wright in Aberystwyth Studies, Vol. I, 1912, p. 115, 


oo ————— SL ee 


AN OUTLINE STORY OF OUR NEIGHBOURHOOD 121 


are two sites which may have been defended. One is a natural 
but possibly scarped mound on the other side of the Ystwyth 
just opposite Castell Aberystwyth, and is wrongly marked 
*“Tumulus’ on O.S. maps; the other stands near the outlet of 
the stream from 'lyn-y-Graig on to the flood plain of the Ystwyth. 
Putting together these sparse hints one is inclined to suggest a 
loose military tenure of a series of posts with a likelihood of 
attack from the north in early Plantagenet times (probably 
about A.D. 1150). A few other mounds might be discussed in 
this connection. : 

The next phase seems to be the rise of the fishing industry 
around the inlet at the mouths of Ystwyth and Rheidol, and the 


_ inauguration of the later Plantagenet administrative hold on the 


district by the establishment of the Edwardian stone castle, 
which, it has been suggested, inherited the name of the older 
earthwork (Aberystwyth) situated about 14 miles to the south- 
east. The castle is another indication that the place was of a 
little more than purely local importance. Henceforward growth 
took place around the castle rather than around the old church 
of Llanbadarn, and we note the foundation of the Monday market 
we all know so well. The town-site was a hillock above the 
marshes of Plascrug and the modern Queen’s Road (formerly 
Sandmarsh Lane), and the name of Buarth Mawr near by is 
suggest.ve of a cattle refuge above the salt pastures of the marshes. 
Around the edge of the hillock were built the walls of the medieval 
market-town, starting from the castle and proceeding along South 
Road to the Bridge Gate, and thence along Mill Street (Tandre) 
and Chalybeate Street to the Great Darkgate at the foot of the 
modern street of that name, withthe wide space for markets and 
fairs just outside the gate and now used as a cab-rank. The wall 
is preserved under the streets laid out when it was demolished 
and can be traced up Baker Street to the Little Darkgate at the 
junction of the street of that name with Portland Street beyond 
the wall. Fragments of the wall persist behind some houses on 
the terrace along the line of its continuance back to the castle. 
Pier Street has the name of Heol-y-Wig and the shore end is 
Wig-y-Gwyddel, and therefore evidently an old landing-place. 
Little is known of the date of Trefechan south of the Rheidol, but 
its old lanes, one of which still ends in the harbour, suggest it is 
of some age and in part at least a fisherman’s town ; these old 
alleys are very characteristic of fishing settlements, 


122 AN OUTLINE STORY OF OUR NEIGHBOURHOOD 


Such fragments of the story of the medizval town as are known 
are best told by the documentary historian and must be passed 
by in this article. 

The town shared in the mining activities of the late seventeenth 
century, and the agricultural and sea trade movements of the 
eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries affected it greatly. 
We find the old corn-quay and lead-quay in Trefechan, and the 
old shipbuilding yards as well as the lime kiln, one of several along 
the coast, used for burning imported lime, one of the district’s 
prime needs. With shipbuilding and sea trade came cabinet- 
making, and Aberystwyth was evidently of some importance for 
a while as a social centre for the country round. Its solid burgher 
houses in Bridge Street, now fallen from their high estate, are an 
interesting memento. 

The draining of the marshes north of the Darkgates shiited 
the centre of gravity of the little town a good deal, and the 1834 
‘map reveals a well-planned extension the remains of which are 
visible in the fine lines of North Parade. Unfortunately lanes 
like Portland Road and Cambrian Street, originally probably 
lanes giving access to doors at the backs of gardens, have become 
built up and garden space is now very deficient. This is the more 
regrettable as the Corporation is the ground-landlord of a good 
deal of the drained marsh. More recent extensions such as that 
on Buarth Mawr and that behind Trefechan are very poorly 
planned indeed. 

Aberystwyth may have begun its career as a health resort 
through its chalybeate springs, but however this may be the 
many travellers of the beginning of the nineteenth century, after 
road improvement, must have made its mild yet bracing climate 
known. Since then its holiday fame has grown amazingly, and 
the inauguration of a pure water-supply from Plynlymon has 
helped greatly, but much more could be done by attempts to 
diminish the desolation of the once beautiful Constitution Hull, 
and the untidiness of the quarry behind the Victoria Terrace with 
its torn decrepit posters flapping in the wind. I the water- 
supply had been increased, a clean industry might have been 
attracted to the town (e.g. artificial silk), and there are possibilities 
of moderate hydro-electric development not far away. The 
lack of off-season industry is a serious social defect in a watering- 
place, and though Aberystwyth has the students to occupy its 
spare rooms,in winter this is not really enough, especially as the 


AN. OUTLINE STORY OF OUR NEIGHBOURHOOD 123 


inshore and small boat fishery shows even more than its general 
degeneracy. Something might be done were the shell-fish and 
other maritime food sources developed. 

Of the old seafaring habit little remains save that families 
all along the coast still send sons to sea and many become ships’ 
officers and return home on retirement. The coming of the 
railway was a death-blow to the coasting trade, and the advent of 
the large iron vessel put Aberystwyth shipbuilding and furniture- 
making, as well as its harbour, out of count. The lead mines are 
largely disused, and the associated foundries at Aberystwyth have 
almost gone out of use. But in spite of all this loss of old activities. 
Aberystwyth has not become a mere watering-place. Another 


to perennial factor, that of her site on the neck joining the two parts. 


of Welsh Wales, has operated to give her new scope. 

The nineteenth century in Europe has seen the fateful rise of 
nationalist movements everywhere, with an intensified militarist 
meaning in Central Kurope, and, save in Ireland, a more pacific 
and cultural expression around the fringes of the north and west 
(Finland, Norway, Denmark, Wales). The rise of the College will 
possibly be told elsewhere in this book, but there is no doubt that the 
twin projects of College and Welsh Library were a prime expression 
of a pacific nationalist movement. Probably the promoters who 
bought a bankrupt hotel had not thought specially about the 
position of Aberystwyth, but that position has counted for much. 
in the romantic story of the College and in the decision to place at 
Aberystwyth the National Library of Wales. The remarkable 
growth of the College, the organisation of the National Library, 
the transformation of disused foundry and slate works into the 
great Agricultural Department, the campaign for Music and many 
more efforts in the line of Welsh tradition are increasingly marking 
out Aberystwyth as a centre for Welsh tradition in the link 
hetween the two parts of Welsh Wales. | 

As one stands on the ramparts of the ancient earthwork on 
Pendinas one may follow the story by looking at the monuments. 
it has left us. There are the church of Padarn, or rather its 
medizval successor, the Edwardian castle overlooking the fishing 
harbour, the little old town on its hillock, the straighter lines of 
the town extension on the drained marsh, the towers of the 
College, and finally across the valley the classic lines of the National 
Library of Wales. Aberystwyth fu a fydd. 

H. J. FLEURE. 


ae 


ECONOMICS, PHILOSOPHY, LAW, EDUCATION 


o 


1. SOME NOTES ON THE INDUSTRIAL 
REVOLUTION IN SOUTH WALES 


Gnawd ym Morganwg ddiwg ddynion 
A gwragedd mewn mawredd a 
murianu gwynion. + 


Ir is quite evident to the most casual reader of English economic 
history and industrial organisation that little place is given to 
the development of the industrial area of South Wales. There 
have been innumerable short studies, but it is difficult to see the 
contribution of South Wales as a whole to the industrial changes 
of the nineteenth century. One or two facts are outstanding : 
that the iron industry had reached a high stage of development 
in South Wales before the series of inventions in the textile 
industries, and later the use of steam as a motive power called 
attention to the valuable coal deposits of the area; that con- 
sequently we have the persistence of small scale operations in 
industry and a gradual realisation of the great economic and 
geographical advantages of the area until about the middle of 
the nineteenth century, so that Cardiff, Swansea and Newport 
expanded more rapidly during the second half of the nineteenth 
century than they did in the first half, and that this expansion 
and movement of population into the area, with its consequent 
phenomenal industrial changes, constitutes the real industrial 
revolution in South Wales, comparable with the profound 
migration of population into the North of England from the 
South fifty years earlier. These facts are sometimes forgotten 
when an explanation is sought for the perpetual industrial unrest 
in the coal areas, congested as they became in a very short space 
of time. Another factor that must not be overlooked is the 
geographical configuration of the coalfield, with its narrow 
valleys, its rapid rivers, and its admirable seaboard. The 
narrowness of the valleys and the mountainous character of the 
1 Ed. Williams (1.M.), Agric. in Wales, 1794, Vol. I, p. 17. 
: 127 


128 INDUSTRIAL REVOLUTION IN SOUTH WALES 


region presented grave difficulties for housing the population: 
and caused intense specialisation of industry: it separated the 
mining population from the manufacturing groups, as the latter 
were early forced to the seaboard owing to the costs of transport 
and the peculiar economic advantages in production possessed 
by businesses with easy access to foreign raw materials such as 
iron ore, copper ore, tin, nickel, etc. It was easier to move coal 
to the sea than to move men and materials to build great 
industries in the inland valleys. It is true that some districts 
have continued to hold their earlier economic specialisation, e.g. 
Merthyr, Ebbw Vale, and to a lesser degree Dowlais, but the 
inland forges and ironworks in Breconshire, and important 
centres like Hirwaun, lost their supremacy, and gradually the 
coast towns of Newport, Cardiff, Port Talbot, Neath, Swansea, 
and Llanelly developed into great industrial and manufacturing 
centres—in all cases in the second half of the nineteenth century, — 

The bulk of the population at the beginning of the century 
was engaged in agriculture. Arthur Young, in one of his tours 
(about 1776) through Wales, gives the following prices of agri- 
cultural labour in Glamorgan. Men in constant work received 
ls. per day, driving oxen 3d. or 4d. per day; 1s. in winter and 
ls. 6d. at harvest if taken on from time to time ; reaping wheat, 
4s. and 4s. 6d. ; mowing corn, ls. 3d. and Is. 6d., together with 
drink ; mowing grass, ls. 8d. and drink. Provisions were not 
very expensive: bread was 2d. per lb., butter 5d., cheese (of 
skimmed milk) 2d. and 24d. per lb.; mutton was 33d. per lb., 
beef was 4d., veal 3d., while candles were 7d.1 | 

Iolo Morganwg has some interesting comments on one of 
Young’s tours.2 Thus in travelling through Pembrokeshire 
Young notes that ‘The whole country is in gentle inequalities 
and if wooded would be beautiful.’ Jolo’s note runs: ° Pem- 
brokeshire is too good a county to admit of planting on a large 
scale, a little for ornament on spots judiciously selected would be 
desirable. The town of Haverfordwest is on so steep a hill that 
necks must sometimes be broken in passing it.’ 3 

Space forbids going into details about the state of agriculture 
at the opening of the nineteenth century, but it is worthy of note 
that Arthur Young,’in his journeys, observes the existence of 
many iron furnaces to smelt the ore dug in these counties. Hven 


1 Annals of Agriculture, Vol. 8, p. 318 et seq. 
2 Llanover MSS., No. 60, p. 385. 3 Ibid., No. 60. 


INDUSTRIAL REVOLUTION IN SOUTH WALES 129 


the poorest people ‘ spin their own wool and weave it into flannel 
for their own wear. No linen is worn by them, flannel supplying 
its place. They make cloth for their own wear. Weavers earn 
ls. a day, sometimes more. The poor live on barley bread, 
cheese and butter, not one in ten have cows or pigs (this refers 
to Pembrokeshire), they fare very poorly and rarely touch meat. 
In their gardens they plant cabbages, carrots, leeks, and potatoes. 
The rent of cottage and garden varies from 10s. to 20s.’ } 

The condition of the agricultural labourer was unaltered, 
except for the worse, for many years. Enclosures of the commons 
became frequent after 1815, and this made his economic position 
more unstable than ever. 

It was not until about 1840 that the first cargo of coal was 
shipped at Cardiff, and though outcroppings had been worked 
for centuries the first pit was sunk in Aberdare in 1850. Yet in 
1775 the official customs report ran: ‘ No coals can be exported 
from Cardiff, nor ever can be, its distance from the water render- 
ing it too expensive for any such sale.’2 To-day Cardiff is the 
greatest coal-exporting port in the world, as is well known. 

The iron industry first brought industrial life into the South 
Wales area. In the census of 1811 the population of Merthyr 
was 11,104, of Swansea 8,196, of Neath 2,740, and of Cardiff 
2,457. If we start from home at Aberystwyth we find that at 
that date our town boasted of 477 houses and twenty-six buildings, 
with a population of 939 males and 1,325 females, a total of 
2,264, only 200 people less than Cardiff! There was a mail coach 
twice a week in summer to Shrewsbury and thence to London, 
and once a week in winter. Two wagon loads of goods were 
sent weekly from Aberystwyth to Devil’s Bridge. There were 
no manutactures in the town, but a good coasting trade between 
Liverpool, Bristol, and other parts of England, carrying lead, 
corn, butter, and oak bark. The herring fishery was important, 
and the harbour admitted 200-ton ships. The ships belonging 
to the port numbered 210, with a total tonnage of 8,120, and 762 
Seamen were employed.® 

Merthyr Tydvil had four large ironworks in 1815 : Penydarren 
with three blast furnaces, Dowlais with four, Plymouth with 


_ four, and Cyfarthfa with six. ‘One furnace turned out fifty 


*Llanover MSS., Young’s Tours, with notes by E. W. 
* Quoted in Cambridge County Geography, Glamorgan, p. 82 et seq. 
3 Meynell, Hist. of Cardigan, p. 413. 

Bese VOL, TV. K 


130 INDUSTRIAL REVOLUTION IN SOUTH WALES 


tons of iron a week and sometimes 100 tons. The furnaces at 
Cyfarthfa were blown by a steam engine of fifty horse power, 
made by Bolton and Watt.’ The number of men employed at 
Cyfarthfa was about 1,500 to 2,000, and the monthly wage bill 
was £6,000.1 Six miles south-west of Merthyr there were two 
other iron manufactories with four blast furnaces. The pig iron 
produced was turned into bar iron or resmelted and cast into 
various articles for machinery and other purposes.2 

The only important manufacturing activity in Cardiff in 1815 
seems to have been that of iron hoops, in which trade was con- 
siderable. Twice a week there were passage boats to Bristol 
exporting agricultural produce and the products of the iron 
furnaces inland. 

Neath had no manufactures. Copper works used to exist at 
Melin Crythan, one mile east of the town, and there was some 
small coasting trade in coal obtained from the Gnoll Estate, but 
in 1815 there was very little industrial activity except as regards 
the export of the products of the ironworks at Aberdare, brought — 
down from the Vale of Neath to Briton Ferry by means of the 
canal. 

Swansea, with a population of 8,196 in 1811, was the second 
largest town. In the district there were iron and copper works 
and collieries. The town itself boasted of two establishments 
on a large scale of pottery works, while a soap manufactory 
also existed. We read that ‘shop goods were imported from 
Bristol,’ while the Custom House books reveal a very considerable — 
shipping and coasting trade in 1810, amounting to a tonnage of 
171,672. The Harbour Trust was formed in 1791 ‘by Act of 
Parliament to improve the harbour, deepening the river . . . to 
erect two piers,’ etc. The exports were stone coal, (anthracite), 
culm, earthenware utensils, copper, iron bars, some tinned plates 
and agricultural produce; the imports were copper ore from 
Cornwall, North Wales and Ireland, tin from Cornwall, and 
“shop goods’ from Bristol. 

If a general survey were taken of Wales at the end of the 
period 1798-1815 we should find that it was a predominantly 
agricultural and pastoral country, with a number of manufac- 
tures, all in the infant stages (except perhaps that of iron bars). 


1J. Lloyd, Old South Wales Ironworks, XHD. Nat. Library, 9515, No. 3. 
2T. Rees, Hist. of the South Wales Counties, Vol. I, p. 600 et seq. 


INDUSTRIAL REVOLUTION IN SOUTH WALES 131 


Its commerce was small and its coal trade was just beginning, 
for we note that there was a small coastal trade. The total 
population of Glamorganshire was about 70,000, that is, the whole 
population of the county at the beginning of the nineteenth 
century was about a third of the number of coal miners engaged 
in 1921! Iron was smelted from the ore on almost the same 
methods as existed in prehistoric times. Apart from the South 
Wales ironworks there was one at Aberdovey and one at Bersham 
in North Wales. The iron ore was reduced in a bloomery, 
charcoal being more important then than coal for the purpose. 
Yet Darby smelted iron with coal (not charcoal) as early as 1713. 
_ The old iron masters, John Guest, Anthony Bacon and the 
_ Crawshays, were undoubtedly attracted to the area by the 
presence of iron ore and wood for charcoal. It was not until 
1783-4, when Cort invented the puddling process, that the South 
Wales iron industry began to expand rapidly.2 It gave rise 
to the tinplate industry, for at Pontypool, in 1785, certain 
furnaces were leased by the Hanbury family and these became 
the nucleus of important industrial activities.? Above Llandaff, 
at Melin Gruffydd, there were three tinplate manufactories in 
1815, one at Aberavon (Cwmavon), one at Ynis-y-gerwn, a few 
miles above Neath, and one at Ynyspenllwch, eight miles from 
Swansea. In those days the iron plates were hammered out by 
hammermen before being coated with tin. In the rural parts 
of Breconshire, as well as Glamorgan, there were small forges, 
as far apart from Merthyr as Kidwelly and Llanelly. Here 
is an account of the effect of the Napoleonic War on these small 
undertakings: ‘Hitherto iron ore has been principally raised 
near Lilanelly, where there have been extensive ironworks 
established for many years. Of late, however, attempts have 
been made to raise some in the great mountain, and a railroad 
was constructed to convey it to the furnaces at Llanelly, but 
the reverses which the iron trade has experienced in the course 
of this war have occasioned these mines to be deserted for the 
present.’ 4 

1 Mr. Thomas, ‘Manufacture of Iron with Mineral Charcoal,’ Proceed- 
ings S. Wales Institute of Engineers, Vol. I, p. 99. 
2“ Henry Cort’s Inventions,’ by Mr. Webster, Proceedings S. Wales 
| Institute of Engineers, Vol. I, pp. 181, 184. 
3 Royal National Eisteddfod, Cardiff, 1883, Hist. of Ancient Industries 


_ of Pontypool, pp. 307 and 404. 3 
. 4'T. Rees, History of the S. Wales Counties, 1815, p. 606. 


132 INDUSTRIAL REVOLUTION IN SOUTH WALES 


In the Vales of Neath and Swansea coking coal was used for 
smelting purposes, and several brass wire, copper, lead and zine 
smelting works were established. All these were on a small 
scale, but they mark the beginnings of the industrial revolution. 
Thus we find in 1823 a pamphlet being issued describing the 
results of experiments to stop the smoke nuisance in the Morriston 
Valley, while in 1813 Cwmbwrla and Hafod are described as 
charming rural spots.1_ Forty years later, Borrow, when tramp- 
ing out of Swansea in 1854, says, “As I passed again through the 
suburbs I was struck with their length and the evidences of 
enterprise which they exhibited—enterprise, however, evidently 
chiefly connected with iron and coal, for almost every object 
looked awfully grimy.’2 In the interval, therefore, there was 
a steady expansion of industry. Iron works, copper works, 
tinplate works, forges and mills were laid down, while coal was 
substituted for water as motive power. Then began the move- 
ment of industry from the inland areas to the coast, and the 
rural exodus into the mining valleys became pronounced: 
the ‘revolution’ was in full swing. 

Cardiganshire had important connections with South Wales 
because of its copper, silver and lead mines, the products of which 
were shipped at Aberystwyth to the South Wales works. 
‘Chauncey Townsend and John Smith had lead mines near 
Llechrhyd, in Cardiganshire, and an interest in the lead works 
at Upper Bank (Swansea).’ 3_ 

The only important textile industry at the time, as far as we 
can make out, was a woollen factory at Bridgend, which was not 
on a large scale, where shawls were made. There was also a 
small factory at Caerphilly. ‘Coarse cloth was manufactured 
by individuals and taken to the farms and markets for sale. 
The chief clothing of the peasantry was flannel, made throughout 
the country. Wool was carded and spun at the cottages and 
the smaller farm-houses and woven by the village weavers of 
the neighbourhood. Home labour of late has been greatly © 
diminished by the introduction of machinery for carding, spinning 
and weaving.’ 4 

Cardiff, Neath, and Swansea, were the ports for iron and coal, 


1Cambrian Visitor, 1813. 

2 Borrow, Wild Wales, p. 581. 

3 Grant Francis, Copper Smelting in Swansea District. 

4 T, Rees, Hist. of S. Wales Counties, 1815, Vol. I, p. 617. 


INDUSTRIAL REVOLUTION IN SOUTH WALES 133 


and a note on the transport arrangements will show that by 1815 
the whole of Glamorganshire was connected with these two 
ports or with Cardiff by the canal system, because the Taff Vale 
trains did not run into Merthyr until 1841. The Cardiff to 
Merthyr Tydvil canal was commenced in 1791 and finished in 
1798. It was 575 ft. above sea-level in some places and had 
forty locks and was 26 miles long. Barges of 25 tons could be 
safely towed as the canal was 5 ft. deep. Cardiff was joined to 
Penarth so as to enable ships of 200 tons to approach the town 
quays on the river Taff. At its upper end, near Merthyr, a rail- 
road was constructed for 8 miles and was used when the dry 
seasons meant insufficient water for the canal. A branch of 


the canal was cut as far as Aberdare, while the Neath Canal, 


also begun in 1791, was 13 miles long, with sixteen locks, extended 
right up to the confines of the Vale of Neath and joined up 
Briton Ferry. A short railroad, on which were wagons drawn by 
horses, connected this canal with Hirwain and Aberdare. Richard 
Trevethick built the first steam engine that ran on rails at 
Penydarren, but for the first half of the nineteenth century the 
commercial prosperity of South Wales was dependent on the 
canal system. Shortly after the Vale of Neath Canal was 
constructed another was built from Swansea along the Vale of 
Tawe, up to Brecknock, above Ystradgynlais, 16 miles long and 


5 ft. deep. Thus the produce of the mines, quarries and works 


along this very rich mineral region was brought down to the 
ports. There were two other canals near Swansea, one at the 
village of Foxhole to connect the collieries of Gwernllwynwhith, 
near Liansamlet, with the port; the other was cut through 
Crymlin Marsh, between Swansea and Briton Ferry, terminating 
at a shipping wharf nearly opposite the latter ‘place on the 
western bank of the Neath river. It is worthy of note that the 
Anglo-Persian Oil Company’s large works are built on the site 
of the Jand on both banks of this old canal, while the Foxhole 
canal has been studded with all types of works, the latest being 
the extensive developments carried on during the war in the 
‘pelter industry. The project of continuing the Swansea Canal 
to the Mumbles was abandoned in favour of the road railway, 
which exists to this day to the great disgust of all comfort-loving 
travellers. 

The roads were good and provided easy communication 
between the important points. ‘The mail coach to and from 


134 INDUSTRIAL REVOLUTION IN SOUTH WALES 


the Metropolis passes this way daily—high road to Milford, 
Rumney Bridge and Pontardulais ; two other coaches, one from 
Gloucester and one from Bristol, proceed as far as Swansea on 
alternate days.’ + Stage wagons were not necessary owing to 
the numerous ports. 

It will be well to conclude by an indication of the number 
of small industries that had grown up by about 1850. In an 
old directory we find that straw-hat makers numbered five in 
Cardigan, six in Carmarthen, ten in Haverfordwest, one in 
Laugharne, eight in Llanelly, one in Narberth, one in Neath, 
one in Newcastle Emlyn, six in Pembroke, fifteen in Swansea, 
and three in Tenby. The total number of hatters was twenty- 
four, of whom fourteen belonged to Carmarthen. There were 
thirty-eight coopers and thirty-four tallow chandlers, Swansea 
and Carmarthen boasting of five each. Sailmakers numbered 


sixteen and glovers ten. Carmarthen had two fishing and tackle © 


makers, also several maltsters. There were one or two tobacco- 
pipe makers, and Carmarthen also had one ink and blacking maker. 
All the nail makers (eight) belonged to Neath and Swansea. 
There was one corset maker in Swansea, in lower Oxford Street, 
while the other occupations included sieve-makers, cork cutters, 
block, mast and pump makers, dyers, coppersmiths, and clog 
makers. There were forty-seven shoemakers in Neath and 
sixty-three in Swansea, with a total of 302 shoemakers all told.” 
This is a good indication of the industrial expansion of the time, 


for iron and steel and coal workers wear out boots very rapidly. | 


J. MORGAN REES. 


1T. Rees, Counties of S. Wales, Vol. I, p. 576. 
2 Cambrian Notes and Queries, Vol. I, parts ii. and ii. 


{J 


2. INDUSTRIAL TRAINING IN SOUTH WALES 


Amonec the most important of the problems of re-construction 
was that of replacing the trained men lost in the war. The 
interrupted apprenticeship scheme of the Ministry of Labour, 
which came into being on January 1, 1919, was designed to insure 
- the continuance of industrial training on the part of lads who were 
already apprenticed before enlistment. A consideration of the 
main principles and features of this scheme and its operation in 
certain parts of industrial Wales throws valuable light on the 
whole problem of industrial training, and affords guidance for 
future effort in this direction. 

Speaking generally, the scheme provided for State grants in 
aid of wages to apprentices training in workshops, and mainten- 
ance allowances for working apprentices taking courses at 
technical institutions. Its application was limited to boys who 
before enlistment were in training for a skilled trade, and it was 
governed by regulations approved by the Ministry of Labour, and 
drawn up by a body representative of employers and workmen. 
In the majority of cases this body was the National Joint In- 
dustrial Council for the trades concerned.! Forty schemes for 
the same number of different industries and trades were accepted 
and applied, similar in principle but differing in detail. 

A statement often heard is that apprenticeship is dying out. 
Moribund it may be, but the provision of a State scheme for its 
support during the period of reconstruction is evidence that some 
form of apprenticeship exists. If merely indentured apprentice- 
ship is meant, whereby a boy is bound by a definite agreement 
to serve his master for a period of years and his master to teach 
him, then this type could not be found to any very large extent 
in South Wales, or indeed in the United Kingdom generally. 
It is true to say that ‘the old apprenticeship system is not 
exactly suited to modern conditions and has fallen into disuse.’* 

1 See Memorandum describing the scheme, p. 2. 


2 Marshall, Principles of Economics, p. 211. 
135 


136 INDUSTRIAL TRAINING IN SOUTH WALES 


A survey made in Pembrokeshire early in the year 1920 shows 
that ‘many boys refuse to accept posts as apprentices, so that, 
generally speaking, there is a shortage of apprentices in all 
skilled trades except engineering and motor-engineering.’! The 
same is true of an industrial county like Glamorgan. The 
investigator said: ‘So great is the rush of boys to the pits that 
there is considerable difficulty in obtaining apprentices to any 
skilled trade. . . . The fact must be faced that to-day boys are 
determined to be treated as wage-earners; they will not be 
considered as learners earning a few shillings a week pocket 
money.’? The number of apprentices for whom the Ministry 
of Labour had to make provision was therefore small when we 
consider the mass of boys employed in Wales. The official 
figure is 840 out of a total of 42,000 for the United Kingdom, 
The coal and great metal industries like smelting, iron and steel 
making, and tin-plate manufacture with their thousands of 
employees and numerous processes did not require persons to 
undergo ‘a course of training . . . for a period definitely fixed 
in advance,’ as the memorandum had it: in other words did not 
employ apprentices. This work was learnt by the method called 
*following-up,’ ° that is, a boy started as a ‘ mate ’ or labourer, 
and took his chance of rising to more skilled work... To bear out 
this statement let us give the distribution of varying types of 
workers in a tinplate factory, namely, that of Mr. F. W. Gilbertson, 
Pontardawe. The figures are taken from an address given by 
him on ‘Industrial Efficiency.’ 


TABLE I 
Classification of 2,000 persons employed in a tin works in South Wales. 


SEcTION 1: 
i, Central control (wide financial and commercial experi- 


ence, some general technical knowledge) . 8 
ii. Departmental managers (in charge of mre iit 

operations) 9 
il. Trained technical men : 12 
iv. Clerical staff . 80 


v. Working engineers, fitters, ailllichee, clea etc. 


(served apprenticeship) , 112 


1 Ministry of Labour Survey. 

2 FOUG. 

3 See Dearle, Industrial Training, p. 142; and J. H. Jones, Tnplate 
Industry, p. 129. - 


SOMA eM wD He 


INDUSTRIAL TRAINING IN SOUTH WALES | 137 


vi, Other foremen, not included above . 9 
vii. Skilled workmen, e.g. f{urnacemen, whose efficiency may be 
directly increased by some knowledge of the science of 


the processes (recruited from Section 2, below) . aie 1G0 
SECTION 2: 
i, Other skilled and semi-skilled men, whose skill is mainly 
manual. : : : : ; ‘ : . 1,050 
ii. Unskilled labourers . , : . 3842 
ii. Boys and female labour . : : 220) 


Tt is clear that the number of men who have served an 


apprenticeship is exceedingly low and that the semi-skilled and 
unskilled men greatly exceed the highly skilled trained men. 
_ This is true, as a general rule, of all large industries in South 
Wales. To what trades then were boys apprenticed in the years 
immediately preceding the war? The following tables, showing 
the numbers of Ministry of Labour agreements signed between 


masters and boys or their guardians during the operation of the 


scheme, give us an indication of the information we seek, 


TABLE II (WALES) 


. Engineering industry 3, ; ; . 250 
. Building : “ 220 
. Printing and bookbinding eae . 120 
. Electrical contracting 

. Shipbuilding . 

. Furniture making . 
. Jron-founding 

. Vehicle building 


Between 20 
and 50 
each. 


TABLE III (SWANSEA) 


. Cycle and motor trades . 5 : : ae ah 
. Building : , ; ; ; Se) 
. Furniture trades. sea |) 
. Engineering (electrical) . ae) 
. Jewellery trades (including watch- making). 

. Printing and allied trades ; 
. Vehicle building 

. Shipbuilding . ; 

. Clothing trades aii boot- making) 

. Scale-making . 

. Dental mechanics . 

. Tool-making . 

. Blacksmiths’ crea 


_ 
= 


— 
bo 
et el OS) DO INH SD 


— 
(ou) 


138 INDUSTRIAL TRAINING IN SOUTH WALES 


All. the trades mentioned in Tables II and III are those 
generally termed crafts. It was only in a craft that a period of 
training was considered necessary. The Industrial Revolution 
brought into being the large industry with its hosts of persons 
engaged in semi-skilled and routine jobs highly specialised, the 
necessary skill for which was easily ‘picked up.’! The employ- 
ment of an augmented number of semi-skilled repetition workers 
during the war showed, however, that the care and repair of 
machinery, as distinct from its mere operation, could only be 
done by the craftsman trained for the work. 

There were, therefore, two main types of boys in industry: 
those who were employed for their immediate productive capacity 
or usefulness, the ‘mate,’ the ‘follower up’ and the labourer, 
and those who were receiving training offering some special 
industrial qualification.2 In the crafts the youth was considered 
a learner and not a mere wage-earner, and was not employed 
primarily for his economic worth to the employer. Some of 
these youths in training were indentured, that is, they served 
according to the terms of a written agreement. Other instances 
show the existence of a mere verbal understanding between the 
employer and the parents or guardians of the lad. In the 
majority of cases, however, the youths just learnt as they worked 
without much agreement regarding teaching being entered into, 
except that they were to be considered as learners and not mere 
mates or labourers. When the interrupted apprenticeship 
scheme was launched agreements were drawn up for apprentices 
benefiting by its grants, and signed by the employer, parents, 
and the Minister of Labour himself. This agreement was intended. 
to make training systematic and efficient. Provision was made 
for its cancellation where hardship or failure to keep the terms of 
the agreement was proved; for inability to terminate agreements 
had in the past been one of the chief causes of the decay of - 
indentured apprenticeship. As regards the actual mode of 
training nothing could be done in the difficult times during which 
the scheme operated to introduce innovations. Training depends 
both upon the organisation of the workshop and the character 
of the employment and employer. An all-round training is 
best obtained in the small workshop where a variety of work is 


1 See Dearle, Industrial Training, p. 142. 


2 See Juvenile Labour during the Warand Afier,p.31. H.M. Stationery — 
O ffice: ; 


- INDUSTRIAL TRAINING IN SOUTH WALES 139: 


generally handled, rather than in the larger business with its. 
specialised departments. Itis known that, in the years preceding 
the war, apprentices were left to their own devices, and that such 
training as they had was determined by the foreman of the 
workshop, and in particular the craftsman with whom they were 
placed. Nothing could be done in the years immediately following 
the: war to effect fundamental changes in workshop method. 
The appointment of welfare supervisors in large works, however,. 
has brought into being a person who is directly interested in 
juvenile labour, and much may be expected in the future from. 
activities of this kind. 

It is interesting to note that the State saw the importance of 
- technical instruction in the training of the ex-Service apprentice. 
The processes and operations of a trade can best be learnt in the 
workshop or on actual jobs under business and commercial 
conditions, but instruction in general principles and the cultivation: 
of the broad view of a trade is only possible in an institution, 
either a technical school or instructional factory. The Report 
of the Industrial Council for the Building Trade ? states that,. 
‘The value of efficient technical instruction to workshop train- 
ing cannot be overestimated and the aim should be towards a 
marriage instead of the divorce which has hitherto prevailed.’ 
On investigation it was found that the practice of allowing time 
off to ex-Service apprentices for attendance at educational 
institutions was by no means general in South Wales. Most. 
employers admitted the value of technical training, and stated’ 
that they urged their apprentices to attend classes in the evening. 
Statistics show that few took advantage of the grants given for’ 
technical training, and those who did were employed near Cardiff 
or Swansea. The reasons were the unwillingness of employers to 
allow time off for this purpose, and the fact that such attendance- 
was purely voluntary. It must be remembered too that facilities. 
for technical education exist only at large centres, and attendance: 
at classes on the part of apprentices in remote districts must. 
make great inroads on their working week. 

Whatever be our view of the actual achievements of this 
training experiment, it at least becomes clear to what extent. 
apprenticeship is still a feature of industrial life. The reception: 

1} See Reports of the Industrial Welfare Society. Welsh Office, 14. 


Western Mail Chambers, Cardiff. 
2 Harrogate Meeting, 1920, p. 17, § 30. 


140 INDUSTRIAL TRAINING IN SOUTH WALES 


of the idea by employers and men, and the drafting of forty 
schemes by their organisations in joint council, show also that it 
is possible for them and the State to co-operate in the interests 
of youth in industry. If space allowed it could be proved by 
reference to the actual facts and figures that the difficult problem 
of wages for boys in training was discussed and settled to the 
satisfaction of all concerned, in such a way that they bore a 
definite relationship to the standard rates for adults in each 
district. The method adopted for securing the advantages of 
a definite agreement and annulling its disadvantages, by setting 
up machinery for dealing with disputes between masters and 
apprentices, and providing for the breaking of the agreement 
where necessary was also an interesting feature. Finally, the 
scheme has afforded information and experience for the better 
systematisation of apprenticeship for normal times in trades 
where it is desirable, and has shown the need for considering the 
youth in industry as a youth in training for adult life. Whereas 
it applies, however, only to a section of the industrial field, a 
system which claims to be an adequate solution of this problem 
will provide, not only for crafts, but also for that great mass of 
industries and callings where no attempt is made to train the 
boy, and for work that is to-day termed unskilled. The example 
referred to above shows that in modern industry the semi-skilled 
and unskilled greatly exceed the number of highly skilled trained 
-men. It must also be remembered that industrial methods are 
continually changing, so that highly specialised skill of a given 
sort may become valueless at any moment. A system of in- 
dustrial training which dees not take this fact into account will 
fail to achieve its end. It would seem that men possessed of 
adaptability, resource, initiative, general intelligence and such-like 
qualities, in addition to the special skill required for their trades, 
would be best able to adjust themselves to any new industrial 
method. Mr. R. A. Bray, after an investigation into juvenile 
labour problems in London, made before the war, states 
that 1 ‘this all-round skill, though not required in the work- 
shop, is necessary to the man if his position in the skilled 
labour market is to be secure.’ Employers will say that their 
function is to produce goods and not to endeavour to train men’s 
general intelligence, a statement which is true as industry goes. 
It is the work of our system of general education to supply this 


1 R. A. Bray, ‘Boy Labour and Apprenticeship,’ p. 212. 


INDUSTRIAL TRAINING IN SOUTH WALES 141 


training, and this is the soundest argument against those who 
suggest that industrial efficiency can only be secured if education 
is vocational, and if boys whose lot is to be industrial are taught 
to specialise early. 

An essential to any scheme which aims at success is the 
co-operation of employer and employed. It is suggested that a 
national body of representatives of these two classes should be 
set up for each trade, whose duty it will be to draw up a permanent 
scheme of training, bring it to the notice of the people concerned 
and act in an advisory and supervisory capacity to them. For 
the efficient application of the national scheme to the particular 
needs of the districts, local training committees representative 


of both sides of the trade in the locality should be formed. Both 


these committees might easily be the product of the system of 
National and District Joint Industrial Councils. They should 
exist for all trades, skilled, semi-skilled and unskilled ; and should 


’ work in harmony with the juvenile employment officer for the 


district. The juvenile advisory or choice of employment 
Committees which exist to-day will still be the lnk between 
school and industry in general, and will continue to register 


applicants for employment. Under the system recommended, 


however, they will in all cases bring applications to the notice 
of the proper training committees and receive advice as to the 
suitability of employer or proposed trainee. The juvenile 
employment officer in towns like Swansea has complete infor- 
mation respecting the health, capabilities and bent of every boy 
who leaves school. His knowledge of industry must perforce be 
general ; he is not able to get the industrial particulars he requires. 
Indeed, in most cases such information has never been compiled 
or systematised, because there is no body sufficiently interested, 
or whose function it is to do this work. 

The local training committee will make a list of employers 


who have, or can give, facilities for training lads. In unskilled 


trades where little specialised training is necessary, employers 
must be ready to give boys opportunities for general improvement, 
such as is provided nowadays in large works by welfare super- 
visors. The scheme drawn up should state clearly the ages at 
which boys are taken and the qualifications required of them. 


The period of training will be fixed, and where the trade is a 


skilled one, the wages given during each year of the period. 
Particulars of provisions made for technical education should be 


142 INDUSTRIAL TRAINING IN SOUTH WALES 


clearly laid down, and whether or not fees or maintenance grants 
will be paid during attendance at technical institutions. The 
committee could advise local education authorities on the 
curricula and equipment of technical schools, for this type of 
co-operation between education and industry is also valuable. 
Where agreements are required, forms of agreement will be drawn 
up for signature by the employer, the trainee or his guardian, and 
the chairman of the committee. Disputes will be brought before 
this representative body, and the necessary ways and means of 
‘settling the dispute or breaking the agreement will be decided upon, 
where circumstances demand such action. In those trades where, 
to learn the whole of the operations, it is necessary to move to 
another shop, the committee will endeavour to make such 
migration orderly and not leave it to the whim of the boy. Super- 
vision is necessary, for the boy’s sake to encourage him in his 
work, and to see that the employer is carrying out the spirit of 
the agreement. Individual members of the committee will 
visit shops and works themselves. Undue interference, of 
course, must be avoided, but there does not seem to be much 
likelihood of such from a representative body. 

A very sound suggestion is made by the framers of the building 
industry scheme of apprenticeship. They state that a full-time 
paid organiser should be appointed to secure adequate develop- 
ment of industrial education and training. Experience of other 
branches of activity seems to lead one to think that such a person 
could do excellent work. It has been found necessary to appoint 
agricultural, adult education, welfare and other organisers; why 
not one to put on a sound footing the all-important work of 
industrial training ? South Wales manufacturers have formed 
an Education Board with a full-time secretary, whose function it 
is to act as a link between South Wales large scale industry and 
local education authorities. The Industrial Welfare Society 
has established a secretary for Wales, and some fourteen large 
firms in Swansea and district have their own welfare schemes 
and full-time supervisors. Great care will have to be exercised 
to prevent overlapping of these activities, and an attempt at 
co-ordination might be useful. They show the tendency of the 
time and are beginning to become a marked feature of industrial 
life in South Wales. The welfare supervisor, nevertheless, at 
present does not help youths outside the great coal and metal 
industries. There is still need for much to be done in the smaller 


INDUSTRIAL TRAINING IN SOUTH WALES 143 


workshops and trades. Trades which drew up schemes for 
ex-Service apprentices are being pressed by the Ministry of Labour 
to organise training for the future. Reference has been made to 
the permanent scheme which has already appeared for the 
building trade. This is the first, and contains much that is of 
ereat value. As a type it leaves little to be desired. The 
painters of Swansea also are trying to put the training of their 
boys on a surer foundation. Other trades that are considering 
the matter are engineering, shipbuilding, furniture-making, 
electrical trades and vehicle-building. 

With sound schemes, and juvenile employment committees, 
trainmg committees and welfare supervisors working in co- 


operation, much could. be done to prevent the wastage of young 


industrial life and the wholesale manufacture of inefficiency, 
economic and social, that now takes place. 


WILLIAM KING. 


ay 


aay 


3. CONDUCT AND THE EXPERIENCE OF VALUE 
Part [ 


Iv is my purpose to point out in the following papers that moral 
goodness, if it is to be a living thing, and not an affair of mere 


custom, must be based on what I shall call ‘the experience of 


Value.’ I shall be concerned mainly with a very general (as 
opposed to an exact psychological) account of this experience 
and its realisation through the channels of individual values, 
usually called goodness, beauty and truth. In my first paper 
I shall attempt (a) to show that it is essential, if we are to explain 
morality, to discover something other than instinct (to-day 
much exploited) as a psychic force determining human conduct, 
and (b) I shall then try to show that this force is generated in 
what I call “the experience of Value,’ which comes to us through 
the particular ways of goodness, beauty and truth, and that this 
experience must be the dynamic of all real virtue. In my second 
paper I hope to show in more precise fashion the relation of 
values to Value and of Value to moral conduct. 


We are finite beings. It is a no less fundamental fact that 
we are set in, and are organically related to, a universe which 1s 
for all practical purposes infinite, and within which we can discern 
values (I assume that dogmatically here); and out of these two 
facts we must make morality. Just as there is no true art unless 
the artist has made beauty personally his, just as art is the 
expression of what has become assimilated into character, so in 
morals, I shall maintain, a life is only in any real and vital 
sense good when the agent has assimilated Value as an experience, 
has made it the ‘ ruling interest,’ has made conduct an expression 
of a character dominated by such interest. 

M. Bergson has likened personality (which for the moment 
we may assume to be the same as character) to a cone whose 
base is infinite and whose pointed apex is continually pressing 

Peo: VOL, IV. - 145 L 


146 CONDUCT AND THE EXPERIENCE OF VALUE 


the ideal plane which separates past from future. The image 
represents fairly well the kind of general argument I shall present. 
We can find no bottom to the depths of the self; the more 
deeply we dig into it, the more deeply do we penetrate 
into the secret of the universe. And vice versa. What we call, 
for want of a better name, the unconscious, may, for all we know 
(then again it may not) be the universe itself. On the other 
hand, personality or character certainly seems ‘pointed,’ that 
it may plough its way through circumstances of time and place. 

It is both these aspects of personality or character that we 
must discuss, for neither can stand alone. There is movement, 
energy, force, in personality, which pushes it on, a living thing, 
into the future. Perhaps the force at the apex comes from the 
infinite, but that statement means little or nothing at all. 
Perhaps it is the cosmos that gives life and vital energy to her 
children as she gave them birth, but that, while it is possibly 
true, is little more than an identical proposition. We must 
examine more closely where exactly the force of the moral life 
does reside. : 

The all-but-unanimous voice ! of modern psychology answers 
that the force of the whole of human character is derived from the 
instincts. Thus McDougall?: ‘The human mind has certain 
innate or inherited tendencies which are the essential springs or 
motive powers of all thought and action, whether individual or 
~ collective, and are the bases from which the character and will 
of individuals and nations are gradually developed under the 
guidance of the intellectual faculties.’ Or if in others the term 
‘instinct ’ is not used so specifically, such names as ‘ psychic 
energy’ have reference to substantially the same thing. The 
term ‘libido’ (an unfortunate one, I think) may have a particu- 
larly narrow connotation, as when it refers to a single instinct, 
the sex-instinct ; or it may have a wider meaning identical with 
that of the more innocent term ‘ psychic’ energy. But the very 
name ‘libido,’ whether it means a particular instinct or not, 
certainly has an instinctive flavour, not only in itself, but in the 
way in which it is used. While it is freely admitted by some 
that “psychic energy’ is simply an hypothesis, a necessary 
hypothesis, in order to explain the workings of mind, it is, 1 

1 Although even at the time of writing there seem some signs of a 


reaction. 
* Social Psychology, p. 19. 


CONDUCT AND THE EXPERIENCE OF VALUE 147 


think, too easily assumed that all psychic energy is derived from 
the basic instincts. Because those instincts, which can be 
described and classified (though as yet with no unanimity), 
do undoubtedly play a remarkably prominent part in the deter- 
mination of human life, it is therefore supposed that in them 
we have all the factors that are required. Reason, it is always 
supposed, has no power to initiate action, it can only control - 
the forces which exist already. 

This is not to say that modern psychologists regard man as 
simply an instinctive animal. Instincts provide the dynamic 
force of the practical life, but they are modified in ways which 
vary with the individual, although following certain general laws. 


The instincts vary in strength from individual to individual, but 


round them are formed certain broad or universal complexes, 
as sex, the ego and the herd; their working upon the different 
presented experiences, which to no two minds are the same, their 
complicated interaction with one another, is the means of forming 
further dominant complexes which are the bases of character. 
Character again is further developed by cultivation of the 
sentiments, such as the self-regarding sentiment and the abstract 
sentiments, by the imitation of other good characters. And so 
on. 

We are thus given an account of character which is satis- 
factory enough up to a point, and is certainly not to be rejected 


' on any quasi-moral grounds because it stresses instinct, and we 


may not happen to enjoy thinking of our moral lives as being 
grounded therein. Any such prejudice is, in an attempt to find 
truth, unforgivable. But just as there is always some sound 
reason when we ‘instinctively ’ dislike a theory, so here there is 
a reason why there is a dislike in the minds of some ethical 


thinkers of an explanation of the moral life in terms of instinct. 


| 
if 


The reason is that it is essentially deterministic, not in the 


- very reasonable sense in which it is held that all actions must be 


| motived or ‘ caused,’ but in the ‘ bad’ sense which means that not 


. 
4 
| 
| 


i 


e 
: 
J 
4 


| 
| 
| 
| 
‘ 


J, but things entirely outside me, are the originators, the causes, 
_ of ‘choice,’ which thus becomes no choice at all. Any moral 


choice which we make, however free it may ‘feel,’ is, according 
to the instinct theory, the resultant of the interaction of character 


) and circumstances, and even if circumstances in this particular 


case seem to have little to do with it, yet character itself is 


| grounded in environment and heredity. We are given our 


* 
5 
| 
r 
» 
- 


148 CONDUCT AND THE EXPERIENCE OF VALUE 


instincts, we are placed in our circumstances, and the abstract 
sentiments and ideals which we may acquire are strictly depen- 
dent upon the one or upon the other, or upon both, upon the 
innate strength of our instincts, upon their determination and 
interaction through external circumstances, upon the example 
of others in whom the ideal tendencies are strong. And when we 
talk of reason, we are told that reason can only guide, but never 
initiate, that it can control psychic forces, but cannot produce 
them. 

It is not my business here to discuss or to attempt to refute 
determinism. But we may agree with Professor Sorley that, 
however true it may be that the self grows within and is dependent 
upon environment, including hereditary influences, it is also 
true that selfhood is not simply reducible to the contents and 
manner of consciousness. As in the realm of knowledge the 
unique function of the self is to stand off from, to unify, to appre- 
hend as a whole, its objects, so in the realm of choice we are, as 
choosers, standing off from, valuing, selecting, what is presented. 
It is not heredity plus environment which knows and chooses; 
it is a unique, detached, judging activity, coloured by past 
circumstance, no doubt, but not itself, as such, an activity 
explainable in terms of that circumstance. 

But now to return to reason and the problem of the ‘ force * 
which can initiate conduct. As against the instinct view there 
is the traditional one, spurned by the instinct psychologists, 
that it is reason that stirs the good man to act rightly. Without 
discussing this, let us use the term ‘ reason ’ in a very wide sense, 
the sense in which we say that man has reason but animals have 
not. Reason in this sense will be just the differentia between 
man and animal; it will be through reason that we enter into 
the experiences of beauty and truth, that we are able, as gods, 


to discern good and evil, having fallen blessedly, through our 


eating of the tree of knowledge. , 

I proceed at once, then, to treat of the experiences of value. 
The intrinsic values are usually accepted as being three in number, 
goodness, beauty, and truth. They are called intrinsic values, 
as opposed to instrumental or extrinsic, because they are worth 
in themselves ; they are not a means to anything else, like the 


values of Economics. Our task is to show (I can do little more 


here than suggest) that the first value, goodness, though not 
exactly reducible to terms of the other two, is to be regarded as 


CONDUCT AND THE EXPERIENCE OF VALUE 149 


enriched and supplemented by the experience of Value through 
beauty and truth, in a way which is not usually admitted or 
justly recognised. 

Notice the phrase ‘experience of Value through . . .” and the 
use of a capital for ‘Value’ here. There are three intrinsic 
values : goodness, beauty, and truth; these are to be regarded, 
however, not as entities, but as aspects of ultimate reality, as 
modes of something which can only be called Value. The signi- 
ficance of this will appear shortly. In the meantime let us accept 
that goodness is one of the values. If this be so, how is goodness 
in life, our contact with which goodness stirs us with a sense of 
its intrinsic value or worth, itself to be attained ? Or—to 

_ repeat—how is the force, the dynamic, of the good life to be 
derived, not from instinct, but from the experience of Value ? 

Every particular value experience has its particular conative 
aspect. The intense contemplation of beauty stirs, as its results 
at least, the creative longings of the artist, although, on the 
other hand, the zsthetic experience is more self-contained than 
any other, owing to the balance of impulses evoked in the per- 
ception of the beautiful object. Truth, again, in addition to 
the conations involved in attention, stimulates desire for more 
truth ; while the effect of a real appreciation of genuine goodness 
is the production of a desire (not necessarily carried into effect) 
to “go and do likewise.’ 

This last has, perhaps, because it is most obviously connected 
with the good life, the most frequent effect upon conduct. The 
instinct of imitation is a powerful one, and has been sufficiently 
exploited in ethical theories. Aristotle practically bases his 
ethics on the imitation of the morally wise man. But while 

_ imitation is an obvious way of acquiring ‘ good habits,’ and so 
laying a certain foundation for the moral life, yet it is not simply 
imitation (as Aristotle knew) which must stir us to ‘go and do 
likewise.’ It must be a genuine apperception of Value seen 
_ through this particular piece of conduct. It may be easier to 
| imitate simply, to ‘go and do likewise ’ just because it is like- 
wise ; it may be easier to be good just because it 7s an example 
__ of goodness which we have seen ; but it is easier because it is not 
apperceived or assimilated by us in its essence, and there is no 
transference in principle from one value to another, or from the 
universal Value to the particular value goodness. When we 
merely imitate we do not perceive the universal through the 


ihe . 


1 

4 
mi 
4 


150 CONDUCT AND THE EXPERIENCE OF VALUE 


given particular. It is nevertheless essential that, if the con- 
templation of a good act is to have its full practical effect upon 
us, it should lead us beyond its goodness (a value of human con- 
duct) to the universal something which we can only name Value. 

If the practical result of the contemplation of a good action 
is thus admitted, if we agree that an elevated felt admiration 
of something we know to be good results in the desire to do like- 
wise, it then remains for us to ask how other value experiences 
affect conduct. For the conative result of knowing truth cannot 
be said to be good conduct, at least directly ; nor can the beauty 
experience in se be said to lead to perfection of moral character. 
If the effect of goodness is more goodness, then the direct results 
of beauty and truth are more beauty and more truth respectively. 
If they are in any way to affect conduct, then it seems there must 
be a transference in principle from one value to another, from 
truth to goodress, from beauty to goodness, as the case may be. 

This transference or transformation is. made through the 
medium of character. Just as all values, on the objective side, 
meet in the point which we can only call Value, so, on the sub- 
jective side, do all the fully ripened experiences of values affect 
the whole of character so that character as a whole becomes 
permeated with the experience of Value, and expresses that 
Value in whatever line of action it takes. When we, experiencing 
any value, are carried beyond it to a glimpse of Universal Value 
itself, that single experience can affect the whole of our character 
in whatsoever direction that character is expressed. An intense 
perception of beauty must make our ways in the world more 
gracious, must in the realm of thought keep us from laying undue 
stress on a too formal reasoning, a too unyielding logic ; as well, 
perhaps, as keeping before us that symmetry and balance without 
which thought can never reach truth. Again, a felt under- 
standing of what integrity of purpose in the moral life really 
means cannot but have an effect upon our strenuousness in 
attaining truth, upon our honesty in striving to express through 
the medium of art what we have ourselves really perceived. 
And the intrinsic value of truth, which we feel sometimes, after 


intellectual endeavour, has in some measure been satisfied, must, 


as Socrates knew so well, have its clarifying, enlightening effect 
upon the too often blinded eyes of the moral traveller, must show 
to the artist what is truly great and what is spurious, by means. 
of that ‘seeing all things in one’ which is its reward. 


CONDUCT AND THE EXPERIENCE OF VALUE 151 


This transfusion and interpenetration of values in character 
is what makes the moral life a unity. And it is a significant fact 
that in systems of ethics it has so seldom been stressed. We hear 
of “reason ’ or ‘ the desire for pleasure ’ ad nauseam. Too seldom 
is the wholeness, the unity of all the ways of life, made the basis 
of moral theory. But it is just this transfusion which makes it 
the chief desideratum of the moral life; and the lack of it, the 
dividing of life and character into ‘ compartments,’ is morality’s 
worst enemy. ‘Think of our crude, nay, despicable, ideas of what 
constitutes what is usually known as a ‘good’ or ‘ moral’ man. 
He is one who conforms to custom, who does not ‘do wrong,’ 
who controls his passions, by reason, as we say. He is the 


expression of our anemic moral idealism: for we are not 


wont to make full red-blooded passion an essential qualification 
for goodness. Yet passion is but the symbol and sign of life, 
dangerous though it be, and it is through passion only that a 
man may ‘see things together ’ in the way in which it is good 
to see them. Aman has missed the point of his existence unless, 
through a passionate seeking of the value which it is his vocation 
to seek, he has found more than that value, unless he has touched 
the springs of Value itself. He is no son of God unless he does 
so, because he lacks that moral vitality and earnestness without 
which the life of goodness, if itis to be a life at all, is impossible. 
The ‘ good ’ man who knows not beauty at all is either a degenerate 
or a whited sepulchre. ‘Compartment morality’ is ‘ contrary 
to nature’ (how often are we told so, and how seldom is its 
meaning realised), for neither can the life of thought in its nature 
be separated from the life of feeling and action, feeling be sep- 
arated from thought and action, action be separated from 
thought and feeling, nor can any single value be realised in its 
fulness unless it is understood as the expression of the Universal 
Value itself. The import of this for the practical life is that, if 
we experience a value with the full discernment of its universal 
import, with the full emotional intensity which that experience 
can give us, our whole nature will be so affected that our future 
action, in any direction, will be thereby influenced. The direc- 
tion in which we are primarily interested here is the direction 
of conduct, meaning by that, not the life of thought nor the life 
of art (though these are in a sense conduct too), but the lite we 
live, which affects and is affected by our environment regarded 
as social. 


152 CONDUCT AND THE oo: OF VALUE ; 


Mike 


another, aad of the ways in which conduct is affected by our 4 
deep discernment of Universal Value, I shall treat In my next 
article. 4 

LOUIS ARNAUD | REID. 


(To be continued.) 


4, SOME SOURCES OF THE ENGLISH TRIAL 


CHIEF JUSTICE VAUGHAN, in the well-known Bushell’s case, 
made elaborate reference to that ‘ Decantatum in our Books,’ 
the famous maxim ‘ad quaestionem facti non respondent judices, 


ad quaestionem juris non respondent juratores.’ Some writers, 


such as Biener, attribute its adoption to the courts of the sixteenth 
century ; others, and they are the majority, regard it as wholly 
inseparable from the methods of Plantagenet judicial reforms. 
In either case this maxim has been one of the mainstays of our 
judicial system. Not only has it been helpful to judges in- 
dividually, as for example to Coke, by whom it was often quoted in 
his decisions, but it must have greatly assisted the advance of the 
jury system during the trying period of the thirteenth and 
fourteenth centuries. It was one of the chief factors in the 
evolution of that characteristic national institution, an English 
Trial in a Court of Law. 

The formula itself is first stated, according to most writers, 
by Chief Justice Coke in the first part of his Institutes or Com- 
mentaries upon Littleton. 'There it is laid down that : 


‘ The most usual triall of matters of fact is by twelve such men ; 


_ for ad quaestionem facti non respondent judices ; and matters in law, 
_ the judges ought to decide and discusse, for ad quaestionem juris non 
respondent juratores.’ 


i\ 


In the course of a decision in the case of Isaack v. Clarke, of 
the twelfth year of James I, the same Chief Justice makes use 


_ of the following words : 


i 
if 


} 
| 


| 


‘Quod pignoravit : Herein I agree in opinion that this finding of 
theirs (the jury) is not material, ad quaestionem facti, the Judges not 
to answer, ad quaestionem juris, non juratores, as Bracton, Comm. in 
Amy Townsend’s Case, Fol. iii.’ 


Further on in the same case he says : 


* Juries are to meddle with matters of fact, but not with the matter 
153 


154 SOME SOURCES OF THE ENGLISH TRIAL 


here of a conversion ; being matter in law this is only to be determined. 
by a judge.’ 


In reporting this case, Rolle makes the following statement. 3 


in the form of a comment: 


‘Coke a mesme l’entent, ad quaestionem facti non respondent 
_ jurisperiti, ad quaestionem juris non respondent juratores, come 
Bracton est jeo ne bien intend quid fuit dit al ceo per Dod.’ 


In two of these quotations it is plain that Coke is made to 
refer the formula to Bracton. But the most careful searches 
for it in the writings of that author fail to discover it, and some’ 
conclude, therefore, that it was the theory or doctrine, and not 
the literal statement of the formula, that Coke meant to refer to 
his illustrious predecessor. But may not this passage from 
Bulstrode’s Reports contain an error of print ? The reference is 
to Bracton, Commentaries in Amy Townsend’s Case, Folio ii. 
There is no such case in Bracton. But if the name Plowden be — 
substituted for Bracton, the difficulty is at once solved. For at — 
Folio ii. in Plowden’s Reports occurs this very case of Amy — 
Townserd ; and in his report, which he seems to have called a 
commentary, there is the following suggestive passage : | 


‘For the office of the twelve men is no other than to enquire of _ 
matters of fact, and not to adjudge what the law is, for that is the 


office of the Court and not of the Jury, and if they find the matter of 4 


- Fact at large and further say that thereupon the Law is so, where in ~ re 


Truth the Law is not so, the Judges shall adjudge according to the 2 : 
matter of fact, and not according to the conclusion of the Jury.’ - 


Now Bulstrode wrote his Reports from the year 7 Jac. I to — 
15 Car. I, Coke produced his Reports from 14 Eliz. to 14 Jac. I, — 
while Plowden reported from 3 Edward VI to 22 Elizabeth. — 
What could be more probable than that Coke observed this 
maxim in the original French Reports of Plowden, which con-— 
tained commentaries on the case of Amy Townsend, a case argued — 
cuning the reign of ae and Mary? Rolle, who has the words — 
‘come Bracton est,’ may have copied it from Bulstrode, as he 
wrote from the twelfth year of James I, the very year in which — 
was argued the case of Isaack v. Clarke. This would exactly 
agree with what Biener says of the formula taking practical — 
shape in England in the sixteenth century, and suggest a later 
period than is usually accepted for the full development of them 
jury trial. 


. SOME SOURCES OF THE ENGLISH TRIAL 155 


Trial by Jury no doubt arose from the system of inquest by 
sworn recognitors, the system being worked in close combination 
with the existing procedure of the shire moot. It is also generally 
recognised that trom the assessment of taxation it was extended 
by the Grand Assize to the decision of suits relating to land and by 
the Assize of Clarendon to criminal cases. And under both the 
Grand Assize and the Assize of Novel Disseisin the recognitors 
were sworn to found their verdict upon their own knowledge ; as 
Glanvill says, “per proprium visum suum et auditum illius rei 
habuerint notitiam, vel per verba patrum suorum et per talia 
quibus fidem teneantur habere ut propris.’ But we may soon 
detect in the verdict of the jurors an element which is at least 


quasi-judicial. Jurors begin to change from witnesses into 


judges of facts, the proof of which rests exclusively upon others. 
Questions are beginning to be submitted to the twelve repre- 
sentatives which they cannot possibly answer if they may speak 
only of what they have seen with their own eyes. Verdicts are 
beginning to be founded upon hearsay and tradition. It becomes 
their duty to inquire about facts before coming to court and to 
place the result of their testimony in a verdict. Britton remarks : 


‘ Issint que chescun jurour distingtement soit garni en touz pointz, 
sur quel point il se deit aviser avaunt soen vener en nostre court.’ 


If we examine the language of Bracton on this point we 
discover considerable evidence of this transformation in the 


functions of the jury. The system of ‘afforcement ’ assists the 


change. The respective functions tend to be defined according 


tothemaxim. We find even that the jury sometimes approaches 


| 


the declaration of a judgment ; but there is no inconsistency in 
that, since the judgment is not of law but of veritas. For instance, 
Bracton says : 


‘De veritate discutiant (juratores) et judicent. Eodem modo 


| potest jurator falsum facere judicium et fatuum eum judicare teneatur 


| per verba in sacramento contenta. Lt si justitiarius secundum eorum 


i 
| 


| judicium pronunciaverit, falsum faciet pronunciationem.’ 


The phrase ‘ veritatem dicere ’ as applied to the jury leads at 
once to the conception of their function as * quaesitores facti.’ 


If we have come thus far, that the facts are to go to the jury, it 


| 
i 
i 


ee 


| 
| 
| 


cannot be a much farther step to attribute the matter of law to the 
only other arbiter in question, namely, the judge. This language 
of gradual adoption is, however, not strictly permissible, for the 


156 SOME SOURCES OF THE ENGLISH TRIAL 


principle has been recognised in some form from early times, 
when suitors ‘found the dooms’ and recognitors ‘ veritatem 
dixerunt.’ 

But although the functions of judge and jury were thus divided, 
it took a much longer time to evolve the separation of matter of 
fact from matter of law. The difficulty which afterwards became 
exceedingly complex was present even in the Assize of Novel 
Disseisin. It was possible for the jury to know that A had 
ejected B, and to know what service B had performed; yet it 
became exceedingly difficult for them to say that A had disseised 
B from his tenement without deciding a question of law. This 
occurred in the case of Jocelin de Brakelonde, where the jurors 
paid no heed to an affirmation of the rights of a certain convent 
contained or set forth in a deed, but took their own view of the 
facts. In John’s reign we have a special verdict to the effect that 
‘juratores dicunt quod rei veritatem inde dicent et audita rei 
veritate, judicent justitiarii.. In the year 1222 a special verdict 
ran as follows: ‘that the jurors after finding and stating the 
facts dicunt quod nesciunt quis eorum fuit in seisina.’ Since the 
jury were subject in case of perjury and mistake in general 
verdicts to an Attaint, it became the practice to add after the 
statement of facts, whether they thought there was or was not a 
disseisin. This threat of attaint shows it was never intended 
that juries should determine legal questions for themselves. 
The Statute of Westminster II forbade the judges to force the 
jury into giving explicit answers to the words of the writ and 
thereby requiring an oath about a matter of law. About the 
end of the fourteenth century we find that questions of law 
occupy an important place apart from the ‘ facts.’ 

From the Year Books of the twenty-first year of Edward I 


we discover that demurrers are coming into use. The relevant. 


facts are admitted and there remains only a question of law. 
We find judgments demanded 


‘par counte counté et ple pledé.’ 


For instance, there is a pure question of law in a case where 
two kinsmen who have admitted each other’s pedigrees are 
disputing about an inheritance. This case occurred as early as 
1201, when it was said that the litigants ‘ petunt considerationem 
curiae utrum debeat respondere.’ From such questions arose, 
later on, the peculiar procedure known as Joinder in Demurrer. 


SOME SOURCES OF THE ENGLISH TRIAL 157 


It is impossible in a brief space like this to trace the subse- 
quent developments of this notable maxim; or to note the diffi- 
culties caused by mixed questions of law and fact; orthe great 
controversy between Mansfield, Chatham and Camden as to the 
functions of judge and jury; or, finally, the famous reply of the 
judges to the House of Lords, that the criminality of any act 
done is the result of the judgment which the law pronounces 
upon that act, so that, consequently, the question raised in the 
case of Woodfall in 1770, whether a published letter was libellous 
or innocent, was a pure question of law—a reply which ledto the 
passing of the remarkable Libel Act of 1792. It is still true, 
however, as Hargrave wrote in his comment upon Coke’s dictum, 
and, happily, in accord with modern opinion, that the immediate 
and direct right of deciding upon questions of law was never 
really intended to be the function of the jury, but is entrusted 
to, and should always remain with, the judges. 

TA. LEV E 


5. A RENASCENCE PIONEER OF WOMEN’S 
EDUCATION 


‘On the margin of the text of Erasmus’s Catechism we are informed 
{1533) that “The paraphrase of the Lord’s Prayer is translated 
into English by one of M. More’s daughters.’ 

Hence we are led to examine a rare translated book of 
Erasmus with the following title: A devout treatise wpon the 
Paternoster made fyrst in Latyn by the most famous doctour mayster 
Erasmus Roterdamus and tourned in to Englishe by a young 
wertuous and well lerned gentelwoman of XIX yere of age. The 
Colophon reads: ‘ At Chelcheth (Chelsea), the year of our Lord 
God, a thousand and five hundred xxintj. The first day of 
‘October.’ 

Now Margaret, the eldest daughter of Sir Thomas More, was 
born towards the end of 1505, and would thus be about 19 years 
of age in 1524, so it is clear that she was the daughter of More 
who is referred to as the translator of Erasmus’s Treatise wpon the 
Paternoster. ‘The treatise is short, and in its actual contents is 
not nearly so significant a work as the Catechism which I have 
mentioned above. Yet the translation of it must rank as one 
of the earliest printed translations from the Latin into English, 
written by a woman. 

Margaret’s English is very direct and anecerted: as may be 
judged by a short quotation: ‘Therefore thy sonne gave us this 
im commandement, that we shoulde leave our offering evyn at 
the auter, and hye us a pace to our brother, and labour to be at 
‘peace with him, and then return again and offer up our rewarde.’ 

Women’s higher education was undoubtedly neglected in 
England before the time of the Renascence. Interest in women’s 
education probably came into Tudor England from Spain, not 
from Italy. The queenly influence of Catharine of Aragon, the 
first wife of King Henry VIII, brought the spirit of the Spanish 
Court of her parents, Ferdinand and Isabella, into her adopted 

159 


160 RENASCENCE PIONEER OF WOMEN’S EDUCATION 


country. Queen Isabella ruled in Spain from 1474 to 1504, 
and in those thirty years she raised Spain into the leading Court 
in Kurope in connection with women’s education. She utilised 
the Arab traditions of scholarship of South-East Spain and 
attracted to Spain the best scholars she could get from Italy, 
Germany, and France. After she became Queen she set herself 
to repair the deficiencies in her own education, and engaged as. 
tutress for herself Beatrice of Galindo, termed for her knowledge: 
La Latina. In her Court were the brilliant learned sisters, the 
Marchioness of Monteagudo and the Donna Maria Pachecho de: 
Mendoza, as well as Isabel of Cordova, ‘far richer in Latin and. 
Greek and Hebrew than in worldly possessions.’ And there: 
were also Catherine Ribera, the poetess, and Isabella Rosera, 
who (we are told) preached in Toledo Cathedral, and went to 
Rome to convert the Jews, and to comment on Scotus Erigena 
before an array of dumbfounded Cardinals.t| Further, there 
were two lady Professors ; one in the reading of the Classics, in 
the University of Salamanca; and the other in History, in the 
University of Alcala. 

In 1501, the Princess Catharine of Aragon came over to: 
England and married Prince Arthur (the eldest son of King 
Henry VII), who died a few months afterwards. In 1509 she: 
married King Henry VIII, was divorced in 1531, and died in 
1536. The brilliancy of the English Court of Henry and Catharine 
was renowned throughout Europe. Erasmus speaks in the highest 
praise not only of Catharine’s personal learning, but also of her 
intellectual influence in her Court. 

The very years of Catharine’s glory as Henry’s Queen corre- 
spond with the years of the upbringing of the daughters in More’s. 
family. It must be remembered that More was held in the 
highest esteem by the Queen and that she took keen pleasure in. 
his friendship. Throughout he remained staunch in her cause. | 
Margaret More was born near the end of 1505; Elizabeth More: 
was born in 1506; Cecilia in 1507. It will be seen, therefore, 
that if the view of Catharine’s influence on women’s education. 


1 La Claviére adds the name of Loysa Sygea, as ‘ the most illustrious: 
of them all,’ and describes her as an ‘ infant prodigy, a father of the Church, 
who could speak the most outlandish tongues.’ Instances such as those’ 
of Isabella Rosera and Loysa Sygea throw light on Sir Thomas More’s 
suggestion that in Utopia women are not entirely excluded from the: 
priesthood. 


RENASCENCE PIONEER OF WOMEN’S EDUCATION 161 


be accepted, it would exactly be exercised at the time when More 
was most likely to profit by it in the training of his daughters. 

Sir Thomas More, I suggest, was directly or indirectly 
stimulated in his views on education by what had been done in 
Spain under Ferdinand and Isabella, an influence transmitted to 
England by Catharine of Aragon and her friends. After the 
Spanish Armada English writers ceased to ascribe to Spain 
anything good, and the Spanish influence in England has thus 
been obscured. In 1521, Erasmus in a letter to Guillaume Budé 
informs us that ‘once I myself should not have utterly recoiled 
from the view of the uselessness of learning to women, but More 
entirely shook out of my mind the negative idea as to the study of 
letters by women.’ In this same letter 1 we are told that Margaret 
More was already married. Thus Sir Sidney Lee’s suggested 
date of 1525 for Margaret’s marriage must be amended to 1521, 
when Margaret was in her sixteenth year. 

Up to 1521, Erasmus had held the common view that if a 
woman could sew, spin, cook and manage a house, all was well ; 
but in 1526, when he was 59 years of age, he wrote a book in which 
he gives at length his views on women’s education, though the 


title of his volume does not promise beforehand the treatment of 


educational problems. This little read but interesting work was 
called de Matrumonio Christiano. 

There can be no doubt that the de Matrimonio Christiano of 
Erasmus was largely founded upon, and its views were apparently 
often borrowed ? from, the de Institutione Feminae Christianae, 
of Juan Luis Vives, which was published in 1523. It will be 
sufficient for the present purpose to recognise that these treatises 
are primarily connected with England ; both were dedicated to, 
and probably inspired by, the same lady, viz., Queen Catharine 
of Aragon; that they substantially contain similar views, 
though Vives’s treatise was written three years earlier than that 
of Erasmus. The fact seems to be that the Spanish Queen 
together with the Spanish scholar Vives were the centre of the 
English group interested in women’s education, and those at 
least included More, Erasmus, Linacre, and a young scholar named 
Richard Hyrde. Linacre was appointed by Queen Catharine, 
jointly with Vives, to direct the Princess Mary’s education. Sir 


1 1642 Edition, column 759. 

"2 See, on this point, Francis Thibaut: Quid de Puellis Instituendis 
senserit Vives. Paris, 1888. 

Bese -VOL. LY... ; M 


162 RENASCENCE PIONEER OF WOMEN’S EDUCATION 


‘Thomas More, as is stated in the preface to the English translation 
of Vives’s book, was so convinced of the soundness and importance 
of Vives’s book that he had intended to translate it himself, and, 
though he was so deeply engaged in affairs of state, nothing would 
have withheld him from the actual work of translation, but that 
he recognised the high ability of Richard Hyrde, who had secretly 
translated the work into English, apparently in More’s house at 
Chelsea. Sir Thomas More, however, actually undertook the 
revision of Hyrde’s translation: a fact which has been over- 
looked. It is not too much to say that Vives’s book was the 
most outstanding work of the early Renascence in the subject 
of women’s education. 

Hyrde was a tutor in More’s family. From Stapleton’s 
account it seems as if he succeeded William Gonnell. In that 
case 1517 would be the date of Hyrde’s entry into the More 
household. But since Richard Hirde, Herde, or Hyrde, appears 
to have supplicated for his degree at Oxford, July 8, 1519, it 
is possible that he was appointed tutor in More’s house after 
that date. The only further facts I am able to gather about 
Hyrde are those contained in the Calendar of State Papers, 
Domestic Series, for 1528 [Vol. VI, Part 2, p. 1808 (4090)], where 
Stephen Gardiner and Edward Foxe write from Orvieto, in 
Italy, on March 23 to Brian Tuke, to state that one of the equipage 
is in great danger from ‘ wetting ’ of foul weather, ‘a young man 
learned in physic, Greek and Latin, whose death would be a great 
loss. We suppose you know him well. His name is Richard 
Herde. ... He sometime dwelled with the Master Chancellor 
of the Duchy ’ (z.e. Thomas More). On March 28, the same two 
write, “ Richard Herde died on Lady Day, to our great discomfort, 
as we had great confidence in his learning and experience in 
physic.’ 

Hyrde, therefore, had written his translation of the de 
Institutione Feminae Christianae before March 25, 1528. Vives’s 
preface in the Latin text is dated Bruges, April 5, 1523. Hyrde’s 
English translation was first published, however, in 1540. 

The point to which I wish specially to draw attention is that 
the works on women’s education by Erasmus and Vives, though 
connected with England, and written under the Spanish influence 
of Queen Catharine, were composed in Latin, not in English. 
But I must now notice an original tractate in English, written by 
this same Richard Hyrde, the translator of Vives’s book. This 


RENASCENCE PIONEER OF WOMEN’S EDUCATION 163 


small tractate, I suggest, is the first writing on the subject of 


‘women’s education published in English, in the time of the 


Renascence. 

We have seen that Margaret More, or rather Margaret Roper, 
translated Erasmus’s J'reatise wpon the Paternoster in 1524. It 
was to this translation that Margaret’s tutor, Richard Hyrde, 
furnished a dedicatory preface, beginning: ‘ Richard Hyrde 
unto the most studyous and vertuous younge mayde Fraunces S. 
sendeth gretynge and well to fare.’ 

Richard Hyrde in this extremely rare tractate rebuts the 
arguments of opponents to women’s education, who say that the 
frail kind of women, ‘inclined of their own courage ’ unto vice, 
will be in danger of being ‘inflamed to it ’ the more, if they read 
eloquent Latin and Greek authors, ‘where the matter is haply 
sometime more sweet unto the ear than wholesome to the mind.’ 
But 7f learning is a cause of evil, then it will have bad results 
also for men. Nay, it will do more harm to men than to women. 
For man has less self-control. ‘There is as little hurt,’ he main- 
tains, ‘in the Latin and Greek tongues as in English and French 
books, which are not forbidden to women. In Latin and Greek, 


too, are found the holy doctors’ writings, and whosoever regardeth 


them must needs be either much better or at least less evil, both 
man and woman. ‘Some people say, if their wives knew Latin 
or Greek, then might they talk more boldly with priests and 
friars. In reply, Hyrde says: ‘I suppose nowadays a man 
could not devise a better way to keep his wife safe from them, 
than if he were to teach her the Latin and Greek tongues, and 
such good sciences as are written in them ; the which now most 
part of priests abhor and fly from ; yea, as fast, in a manner, as 
they fly from beggars, that ask them alms on the street.’ 
Hyrde goes on: * Reading and studying of books so occupieth 
the mind that it can have no leisure to muse or delight in other 
fantasies, whereas in all handiworks that men say be more meet 
for woman, the body may be busy in one place and the mind 
walking in another: and while they sit sewing and spinning with 


their fingers, they may cast and compass many peevish fancies 


in their minds, which must needs be occupied either with good or 
bad, so long as they be waking. And those that be evil disposed 


will find the means to be nought (naughty) though they can 


(know) never a letter in the book: and she that will be good, 
Jearning will cause her to be so much the better.’ Hyrde says he 


164 RENASCENCE PIONEER OF WOMEN’S EDUCATION 


never heard of a really learned woman who was vicious. But 
there are many cases in which goodness has ‘ taken on an increase ” 
through learning. ‘I will be content,’ he continues, ° as for now 
with one example of our own country, and time that is: this 
gentlewoman which translated this little book! here-after follow- 
ing.’ Hyrde, her tutor, then breaks forth into praise of Margaret, 
Roper, as did every one who knew her. 

Hyrde at this point recalls the lady to whom he is addressing 
the Preface. ‘Therefore, good Frances, seeing that such profit 
and pleasure cometh of learning, take no heed unto the lewd 
words of those that dispraise it... . Yor the best part of men 
(as [ reckon) whom I accompt wisest of every age, all affirm 
learning to be very good and profitable. Wherefore, good 
Frances, take you the best part (of men) and leave the most (part 
of men); follow the wise men, and regard not the foolish sort.’ 

The rest of the Preface pursues the same theme indirectly. 
But the direct appeal to women becomes the serious exhortation 
to the Frances of the dedication to give herself up to learning. 
The question arises : Can we identify the mother as well as ue 
child to whom Hyrde is dedicating the Preface ? 

Hyrde continues: ‘ And as a token of my good mind and an 
instrument toward your success and furtherance, I send you this 
book, little in quantity but big in value, turned out of Latin into 
English by your own forenamed kinswoman, whose goodness and 
virtue, two things there be, that let me (prevent me) much to 
speak of.’ He says the first reason is because Frances knows 
Margaret’s good qualities, without being told them. The other 
reason is : ‘She had leaver her praise to rest in men’s hearts than. 
in their tongues,’ or rather ‘in God’s estimation and pleasure 
than any man’s words or thought.’ ‘As for Margaret’s trans- 
lation,’ he says, ‘I dare be bold to say it, that whoso list, and well 
can, confer the translation with the original, he shall not fail to 
find that she hath showed herself not only erudite and elegant in 
either tongue, but hath also used much wisdom, such discreet and 
substantial judgment in expressing lively the Latin as a man may 
peradventure miss in many things translated and turned by them 
that bear the name of right wise and very well learned men. 
The labour that I have had with it about the printing, I yield 
wholly and freely give unto you, in whose manners and virtues as 


1 I.e., Margaret Roper’s translation of Erasmus’s Treatise on the 
Paternoster. 


OR EF a 
SS = 


RENASCENCE PIONEER OF WOMEN’S EDUCATION 165 


in a child I have great affection ; and unto your good mother, 
unto whom I am so much beholden, of whose company I take so 
great joy and pleasure, in whose godly communication I find 
such a spiritual fruit and sweetness that as oft as I talk with her, 
so oft methink and feel myself the better.’ He goes on to say : 
“It should be a great shame, dishonesty, and rebuke unto you, 
born of such a mother and nourished up with her own teat,! for 
to degenerate and go out of kind. Behold her in this age of hers, 
in this almost continual disease and sickness, how busy she is to 
learn, and, in the small time that she hath had, how much she 
hath yet profited in the Latin tongue, how great comfort she 
taketh of that learning that she hath gotten, and consider thereby 
what pleasure and profit you may have here-after of the learning 
that you may have or (ere) you come to her age, if you spend 
your time well: and so fare you well, mine own good, gentle and 
fair Fraunces.’ 

Who was Frances? I suggest that this was the daughter 
of Mary Tudor, daughter of Henry VII, the Mary—whom 
Erasmus and More saw at Eltham as a four-year-old child—who 
mazried first Louis XII, King of France; and secondly Charles 


Brandon, Duke of Suffolk, whom she married in 1515. In 1517 


her first child, a girl, was born. The child was born on St. 
Francis Day, July 16, 1517, and in honour of the day the child 
was christened Frances as a girl’s name. If this conjecture be 
correct, then Frances 8. (supposing 8. may stand for Suffolk) 
in 1524 would have only completed her seventh year. 

Hyrde says that Frances had mixed with her ‘ honourable 
uncle’s children.’ The child Mary, daughter of King Henry VIII 
and Catharine of Aragon, was born in 1516, the year before 
Frances’s birth. The Queen Catharine herself held the infant 
Frances at the font, so that it is easily conceivable that the child 
Frances was received with welcome in the royal nursery (which 
would probably include other children sent there as royal wards), 
especially since the Queen-Duchess and Queen Catharine were 
on good terms. Catharine’s daughter Mary, although only 
eighteen months old, was the other godmother to Frances, and 
in the household accounts the mention of three presents from 
Mary attests friendly relations to Frances. The general reputation 

1 Mothers were enjoined by Erasmus in the de Matrimonio Christiano 


to nurse their own children and not to hand over the charge to others. 
In fact, there is much in Vives and Erasmus that anticipates Rousseau. 


166 RENASCENCE PIONEER OF WOMEN’S EDUCATION 


of the Queen-Duchess was very high, and would justi‘y Hyrde in 
his praise of Frances’s mother. Hyrde, however, speaks of the 
translator of Erasmus’s Treatise as Frances’s ‘own kinswoman.’ 
In the literal sense of the term, of course, Margaret Roper was no 
‘kinswoman ’ of Frances, but is it not possible that the term 
may be figuratively used as of a woman of kindred tastes in being 
studious ? It will be remembered that Frances married Henry 
Grey, Marquis of Dorset, and that one of her children was Lady 
Jane Grey. If this identification of the Frances addressed by 
Hyrde be correct, it would be interesting to find this link of 
connection between Margaret Roper and the mother of the 
ill-fated Lady Jane, whose learning and virtue were so like 
those of the girls of the More family. 

But the most important fact for the history of education, in 
connection with this book, is the plea for the education of women, 
written by Richard Hyrde, for whom these great people are 
illustrative examples. 7 : 

It, perhaps, sufficiently proves the backwardness of our 
studies of the history of education in this country that the 
name of Richard Hyrde is so little familiar, and his services to 


education quite overlooked. 
FOSTER WATSON. 


6. INSTRUCTION IN RELIGION 


THERE are certain matters usually included in the curriculum 
under the name of religious instruction—the geography and his- 
tory of Palestine, appreciation of the Bible as literature, demon- 
stration of ethical progress as shown in the Scriptures. All 
these are valuable elements in education, but are not instruction 
in religion. 

In the suggestions following I may perhaps be somewhat 
dogmatic in expression, but that is for convenience of exposition, 
and not because of any claim to a right to dogmatise. My 
position is one of enquiry—even in definition. I dare not 
venture on a definition nor choose any one of the many offered 
by theological experts; nor is it necessary for my purpose. 


From the total connotation I will take two attributes generally 


agreed upon—one intellectual, one emotional. 

Firstly, I take it as an assumption of religion that the universe 
is essentially good. Astothat, from the standpoint of instruction 
—where what is taught must be known by the teacher and can 
be demonstrated to the pupil—the answer is always the same: 


Myself when young did eagerly frequent 
Doctor and Saint and heard great argument 
About it and about, but ever more 

Came out by the same door wherein I went.! 


We are where Plato was when he said: 


‘In my youth . . . I heard some one reading, as he said, from 
a book of Anaxagoras that Reason was the disposer and cause of all, 
and I was delighted at this notion which seemed quite admirable, 
and I said to myself : “ If Reason is the disposer Reason will dispose 
all for the best, and put each particular in the best place”; and I 
argued that if any desired to find out the cause of the generation or 
destruction or existence of anything, he must find out what . . . was 
best for that thing. . . . And I rejoiced to think that I had found 
in Anaxagoras a teacher of the causes of existence such as I desired, 
and I imagined that he would tell me first whether the earth is flat or 


1 Fitzgerald’s Omar Khayyam. 
CGH 


168 INSTRUCTION IN RELIGION 


round ; and whichever was true he would proceed . . . to show the 
nature of the best, and if he said that the earth was the centre [of 
the universe] he would further explain that this position was the 
best, and I should be satisfied with the explanation given, and not 
want any other sort of cause. . . . For I could not imagine when 
he spoke of Reason as the disposer of things, he would give any other 
account of their being, except that this was best. . . . These hopes 
I would not have sold for a large sum of money, and I seized the 
books and read them as fast as I could, in my eagerness to know the 
better and the worse. 

‘What expectations I had formed and how grievously was I 
disappointed ! ’ 4 


The answer is the same as of old: ‘Canst thou by searching 
find out God? . . . What canst thou do? . . . What canst 
thou know 2?’ ? , 

‘ As teaching the Almighty we cannot find Him out.’ 

The world as we know it is not demonstrably good. We 
may say and in one mood feel 


‘O world as God has made it: 
All is beauty,’ 


But the mood is not permanent. At present we hope that the 
outcome of the war will be the triumph of good over evil, but the 
triumph is long delayed. We endeavour to bring ourselves to 
the belief that the physical hell through which our youth has 
_ passed is to be compensated by a moral and spiritual uplift 
without parallel, but the belief is hard to sustain. And for 
ourselves—born in pain, dying in pain, the highest joys which 
life has to offer are the occasions of our bitterest sorrows—a 
possession for a little time, and for the rest an aching loss and 


‘What can console me for the loss supreme ? 
Speak not to me of comfort where no comfort is.’ 4 


The trailing clouds of glory of infancy disappear, the hopes 
of youth are baffled, the shadow of futility pursues the labours of 
maturity. 


‘I gave my heart to seek and search out by wisdom concerning 
all things that are done under heaven: this sore travail hath God 
given to the sons of men to be exercised therewith. 


1 Plato, Phedo, 97a—-99c, quoted by Santayana, Three Philosophical 
OCIS Vee 


ZF V@O) oxis 3 Job xxxXvii. 
4 James Thomson, City of Dreadful Night. 


INSTRUCTION IN RELIGION 169 


_ “JT have seen all the works that are done under the sun; and 
dehold, all is vanity and vexation of spirit.’ 4 


The essential goodness of the universe is not open to intellectual 
demonstration. Nevertheless, we must believe in it or die, and 
I will return presently to this belief. 

Secondly, with regard to the emotional aspect of religion— 
deep and sincere emotion is solitary. The nearest approach to 
communication in speech is to your most familiar friend at some 
searce and favourable moment. And religious emotion touching 
the deepest and inmost must partake of this characteristic. 
‘The most characteristic religious moments in the Bible are 
illustrative. 

Paul journeying to Damascus was struck to earth with his 
companions. When they recovered he was still prostrate, and 
what took place within him they knew not, nor could he tell 
them. He alone had the vision ‘ wherein he heard unspeakable 
things which it is not possible for a man to utter.’ 

Daniel says: ‘I Daniel alone saw the vision, for they that 
‘were with me saw not the vision.’ 

Jesus went up the Mount of Transfiguration with three 
chosen disciples, but even the chosen saw not, for “ Peter and 
they that were with him were heavy with sleep.’ ‘ When they 
‘were awake they saw indeed His glory and the two men that 
were with Him,’ but Peter’s naive proposal showed how little 
he had really seen, how little he had understood. The same 
want of sympathy and understanding is obvious at Gethsemane. 

Thus far the difficulty about direct instruction im religion 
so far as the subject itself is concerned. Perhaps a more serious 
aspect of the problem is the danger of attempts at instruction 
about religious matters in the hands of the merely zealous. 

Normally adolescence is the time when comes capability 
of definite religious feeling, faith, motivation. This period, 
although in many respects the most interesting period of life, is 
one of extreme difficulty for the observer, as any period of 
transition must be. It is a new birth—a birth from the matrix 
of the past, but? ‘ of new bodily powers and functions, new lines 
of activity for increased muscular force, new social spheres 
and increasing demands upon social capabilities, new emotional 


1 Ecclesiastes ii. 
2 Haslett, Pedagogical Bible Seminary, ch. v. 


170 INSTRUCTION IN RELIGION 


experiences that widen life and add to its import : new thoughts, 
ideals and ambitions, and—of religious awakening. Before this 
age religion is largely a form. Now it becomes full of meaning. 
It is a new wmterest, spontaneous as the interest in art or the love 
of nature. Where no set forms have been urged religious emotion 
comes naturally. There are many doubts—but they seem to travel 
from doubts of dogma to doubts of essentials.’ 

It is a period of great oscillation, of rushing to extremes in 
one direction or another, of greatest impulse to evil as well as 
to good. The highest numbers of religious conversion are in 
the sixteenth and seventeenth years—the greatest numbers 
(apart from seriousness) of crimes appear to be committed 
between sixteen and eighteen. Alternation from one mood to 
its opposite, from egoism to altruism, from bigotry. to atheism, 
from love to hatred, is more marked than at any other time of 
life—a feature which is at once the opportunity and the difficulty 
of the educator. Psychical life appears to grow by sections, 
and he will succeed best who recognises best the section most: 
active and makes best provision for that section—or leaves it 
most wisely alone. As says Rabindranath Tagore: ‘All the 
hypocrisy and self-delusion in our religious convictions and 
practices are the outcome of the goadings of over-zealous activities 
of mentorship.’ 

I have already suggested that the final reality of religion is 
not demonstrable—but we refuse to accept the demonstrable 
as all. We seek refuge in that which les beyond demonstrable 
knowledge, and I would suggest that the essence of religious 
knowledge is of the nature of a vision—a vision in response to 
an imperative emotional demand—and that the worst thing 
that can happen is the attempt at early forcing of religious 
emotion. In the words of Principal Garvie, in his lectures to 
the British Chautauqua at Aberystwyth : 


‘The teacher . . . must not try to force the religious life of the 
young into the moulds of the experience of the old.’ 


The vision is none the less a fact in that it is a mystery- 
This mystery was the greatest fact in Paul’s life: unexplainable, 
but the most unalterable conviction of his soul, the most critical 
and most intense moment of his life. The rest of his life was 
based on it—he ‘was not disobedient to the heavenly vision,’ 
as he claimed before Agrippa. 


Se 


INSTRUCTION IN RELIGION 171 


To each young man and woman must come a vision, and to 
each it must come as a personal revelation. The teacher must 
beware of clumsy—nay, sacrilegious—intrusion, an intrusion 
fiercely, if silently, resented by the adolescent. 

If, then, his internal eyes be opened he can say with Browning :. 


‘Praise be Thine ! 
I see the whole design, 
I, who saw power, see now love perfect too ; 
Perfect I call Thy plan, 
Thanks that [ was a man: 
Maker, remake, complete—I trust what Thou shalt do.’ 


His progress will be akin to that of Plato in the Symposium, where 
he describes the ascent of the soul towards the perfect beauty ; 
suddenly, he says, she will behold something marvellously 
beautiful, not beautiful by parts or by seasons as is the case 
with material beauty, but itself abiding true to itself for ever. 
And what is the part of the teacher? The teacher must 
realise that such exposition as may be helpful must be recognised 
as external, as aiding in the formation of the best conditions 
for the growth of the real—the internal. Further, the chief 
condition under which any such exposition may be fruitful is 
found in the personality of the teacher. The early adolescent 
period is especially the period when personality counts for most. 
In earlier years there is a greater interest in things for their 
own sake, in later years life’s work and purpose make themselves 
felt—in early adolescence subjects have value very largely 
through the attractiveness of the personality with whom they 
are associated. Investigation shows that every good teacher at 
this stage is associated with a life ideal—an ideal which shines 


_ through his conduct and teaching. He does not necessarily talk 


about it—in proportion as it is deeply felt he is not likely to—but 
one who has seen the world and its affairs from the mountain 
top, is thereafter a different person though he may have to live 
and work in the valley—and his pupils recognise that difference. 
And in the same way that pupils resent intrusion into their 
inmost life, he will also resent it: therein lies the most real 
difficulty of religious tests. 

An extension of personal influence is found in the influence 
of literature, especially of suitable biographies, presented in the 
Same way as the influence of the teacher’s personality, that is. 


172 INSTRUCTION IN RELIGION 


by suggestion. ‘To the young the noble, generous, self-sacrificing 
life has an appeal which is irresistible, and that appeal is not 
strengthened by direct insistence. 
Honest straightforwardness in dealing with difficulties is 
essential. 
Finally—the Master in His teaching showed Himself pro- 
-foundly indifferent to dogma. 


Foster Watson, “The Freedom of the Teacher to Teach— 
Religion,’ Mind, July, 1906. 

CAMPAGNAC, Religion and Religious Teaching. 

JAMES, The Will to Believe. Is Infe Worth Living ? 

SANTAYANA, Three Philosophical Poets. Dante. 

STanLEY Haru, Adolescence. 

Hasuett, Pedagogical Bible Seminary. 


C. RB. CHAPPLE. 


Ze = b= as eee — = 


7, A NEW DOCUMENT BEARING ON THE 
WELSH EDUCATION COMMISSION OF 1846-7 


SOME apology is necessary in writing once more on a question 
which has received far more attention than it deserved, and about 
which many people have long considered that too much has been 
written. My apology is that, in examining the private papers 
of the late Sir James Kay-Shuttleworth, the first Secretary of 
the Committee of Council on Education (1839-49), I have 
discovered a memorandum which shows that he, at any rate, 
clearly foresaw the pitfalls connected with the inquiry and strove 
to avoid them. 

The story of the Commission and its startling Report has 
been told many times, and with varying degrees of passion, and 
we can accept here the cautiously-worded summary of Principal 
Salmon 1 when he says: ‘The Commissioners were justified in 
expressing an opinion of the “ general intelligence ’’ of the Welsh, 
but the instruction to form an estimate “ of the influence which 
an improved education might be expected to produce on the 
general condition of society and its moral and religious progress ’” 
hardly justified them in reviewing the habits, manners, and 
character of the nation, especially as the review caused them 
(in contravention of Burke’s dictum) to draw up an indictment 
against a whole people.’ 

There is no need to repeat here the wild charges made against 
the Welsh people: we know now, and it has been oft-times 
repeated, that the Commissioners were ignorant of the language, 
customs and habits of the nation, that they employed incom- 
petent assistants, that they suppressed some of the evidence 
which contradicted their findings, that they were very young 
and very confident—in short, that they were barristers who 
thought it was their whole duty to get up a case for the prosecu- 
tion. There is nothing to be said in their defence, and it is 


1Y Cymmrodor, XXIV, 1913. 
173 


174 THE WELSH EDUCATION COMMISSION OF 1846-7 


interesting to discover that one of them, Mr. Lingen, was after- 
wards troubled by his youthful indiscretions : in a private letter 
to Sir James, some years later, he confessed that he was likely 
to be troubled by the Welsh Reports all his life. 

Sir James Kay-Shuttleworth has been much suspected of evil 
intentions in the aims and methods of the Commission, and one 
severe critic, Miss Jane Williams, in a pamphlet published in 
1848, lays upon him all the blame by describing the Report as a 
case of ‘Shuttleworth versus Wales.’ This suspicion was wide- 
spread, for Sir James was the moving spirit in the effort to 
establish a national system of education under Government 
assistance, and the Welsh Nonconformists at that time were 
opposed to a State system. 

The following memorandum, however, shows clearly that 
Sir James desired above all things an impartial and fair inquiry, 
and that if his safeguards had been adopted, and his advice 
followed, the evil associations that now centre round the Report 
would not have arisen. The memorandum is a rough draft 
and probably served as the copy for a more formal document. 
As it is too long to quote in extenso I have omitted some parts 
of the argument, and in order to preserve its continuity I have 
interpolated a brief summary of such omissions within square 
brackets : 


‘A. General Desiderata : 

‘ Inquiry can be of little or no value if the results can be shown to be 
inaccurate or incomplete. The persons selected to conduct it should 
be familiar with the political and technical questions connected with 
elementary education. They should. be accustomed to statistical 
inquiries. They should have some administrative experience of the 
mode of communicating with men of adverse political and religious 
opinions so as, if possible, to conciliate their co-operation.’ 


[ft is important to secure the assistance of the Clergy and 
Dissenting Ministers, but the former will object to confessing 
that Church efforts are inadequate, and the latter will not welcome 
a Government inquiry. 

The Commissioners must be men whose character and 
opinions are such as will win the confidence of all, and not alienate 
the extremists on either side. They must be able to examine 
the whole question with impartiality, to view the religious 
scruples of all classes with respect, and to treat all prejudice with 
patience. They must be able to assess the various sources of 


THE WELSH EDUCATION COMMISSION OF 1846-7 175 


obstruction, and also to diffuse correct views of the dangers of 
popular ignorance and of the national importance of popular 
intelligence and virtue. | 


‘ For these purposes it is expedient to select laymen of the Church 
of England of liberal opinions and comprehensive views, known to 
have a thorough acquaintance with elementary schools, capable of 
analysing the opinions on social, political and religious questions 
which may be presented to them, and of diffusing juster views among 
all classes. 

‘ The objects of the inquiry will consist of two principal divisions : 

‘ First, Inquiries into the state of opinion among all classes, inviting 
personal communications with the gentry, clergy, farmers, manufac- 
turers and labourers.’ 


[Also inquiries into the management of educational charities, 
and into the quality of school instruction. ] 


‘Secondly, Inquiries chiefly statistical.’ 


[The provision of schools, number of scholars, subjects of 
instruction, available income, character and qualifications of 
teachers, and the state of the school buildings. | 


‘ These two divisions of the inquiry may be properly entrusted to 
two separate classes of agency.’ 


[The first part of the inquiry should be carried out by four 
Commissioners, one for each diocese. The second part should 
be in the hands of selected schoolmasters, three of whom should 
accompany each Commissioner. 

The Commissioners should report separately, and the Com- 
mittee of Council would then determine whether to call for a 
collective report, or to collate the separate reports into a general 
one. | 


‘B. Draft of Instructions to the Commissioners : 

[A preamble describing the origin and aims of the inquiry, 
and announcing to the Commissioner his appointment for the 
work described. | 


‘The schools for the instruction of the poorer classes now existing 
in Wales have chiefly been erected and endowed by private benefi- 
cence, and such of them as are not endowed are supported partly by 
the small payments of the poor by collections in religious congrega- 
tions, and by the private subscriptions of the more wealthy inhabitants. 

* You will be furnished with a list of those which have in late years 


176 THE WELSH EDUCATION COMMISSION OF 1846-7 


been erected with aid from the Committee of Council on Education. 
or the Lords of the Treasury, but with the exception of these schools 
their Lordships cannot confer upon you any authority to enter any 
of these classes of schools, nor to require, from any persons what- 
soever, information which they may possess respecting the objects. 
of your visit. 

‘The success of your inquiries will therefore depend on that sense 
of the importance of your commission which My Lords trust may 
pervade all classes, and on their disposition to co-operate with H.M. 
Government in devising means for the removal of the evils of popular 
ignorance. Your duty will be to prove to all that you desire to 
ascertain in what way each class conceives that the intellectual and 
moral condition of the poor may be most effectually and safely 
improved. 

‘Having regard to the present state of public opimion on this: 
subject, My Lords conceive that you may be brought in contact with 
persons who consider your inquiries as purely intrusive and unneces- 
sary—with others who may conceive that they indicate a pre- 
determination on the part of H.M. Government to supersede voluntary 
exertions by the power and resources of the State—-with others who 
regard even an inquiry emanating from the Civil Government with 
jealousy and alarm. 

‘ All these persons are entitled to courteous attention in order 
that the facts and representations which they desire to make may, 
through you, reach the Committee of Council on Education. 

‘ Poor but religious men may be ready to represent the difficulty 
they have in providing for the instruction of their children and their 
fear of the degrading effects of ignorance. Humble Nonconformists: 
may seek to lay before you the history of the sacrifices and exertion 
which have been voluntarily made by individuals or by congregations 
among the Dissenters. The Clergy and gentry may wish to represent 
the difficulties which they have encountered in attempting to found 
parochial schools, or to give you proofs of the zeal and success of the 
members of the Church of England. All are entitled to an impartial 
attention, for without a knowledge of the wants and wishes of every 
class of H.M. subjects My Lords would be unable to foresee in what 
way the energies of the country could be most usefully called forth 
to provide for the education of the poor. 

* Wherever you find an elementary school it is iesmable that you 
should explain to the Trustees or Managers personally the objects of 
your commission, and propose to visit their school. In seeking such 


THE WELSH EDUCATION COMMISSION OF 1846-7 177 


permission you will represent the respect with which My Lords regard 
the evidences of the power of that private Christian charity to which 
alone is attributable the existence of the greater part of these schools, 
and their anxiety to enable the same energy to be more successful in 
the management of schools for the poor. 

* Wherever you are invited by the Trustees and Managers to visit an 
elementary school My Lords desire you to avail yourself of this oppor- 
tunity to examine the quality and extent of the instruction given to 
each child—to observe the nature of the school arrangements—to 
ascertain the sources and amount of annual income available for the 
necessary expenses—to form an estimate of the qualifications of the 
schoolmaster, and what are practically the wants of the school 
to render it an efficient means of educating the children of the 
poor. 

‘Numerous Sunday Schools have been established in Wales, and 
their character and tendencies should not be overlooked in an attempt 
to estimate the provision for the instruction of the poor. The Sunday 
School must be regarded as the most remarkable because the most 
general spontaneous effort of the zeal of Christian congregations for 
education. Its origin and tendencies are purely religious. The 
amount of secular instruction communicated is generally limited to 
the art of reading. While, therefore, you avail yourself of any 
opportunities afforded you to enter such schools you will bear in mind 
that they are schools of religion, and that the respect, which is due 
from you as an officer of the Civil Government for the liberty which 
religious communities enjoy, should render you exceedingly careful, 
while you observe the instruction afforded the children in the Holy 
Scriptures and in the formularies of their faith, that you in no degree 
infringe the privileges of religious congregations either while in the 
school or by the use you may make of the information you may be 
permitted to acquire. The object and use of these visits will be 
strictly limited to a just, general estimate of the means of education 
available for the poor in Wales. 

‘The results of your inquiries will be important in proportion as 
they are complete and accurate. In order that the statistical infor- 
mation collected may have this character, without absorbing the 
whole of your time or injuriously protracting the inquiry, My Lords 
have given you the assistance of three school statists who will be 
employed under your direction.’ 

[Details of the statistical inquiries to be made by the 
assistants. | 

A.S. VOL. IV. N 


178 THE WELSH EDUCATION COMMISSION OF 1846-7 


There is no need to emphasise anything in this blameless 
memorandum. It establishes Sir James Kay-Shuttleworth’s 
innocence of the charges that have been made against him, it 
proves that he gave competent advice and desired to make the 
Commission efficient and impartial. 

The interesting question remains: Who turned an inquiry, 
which was begun in order to collect the ascertainable facts con- 
cerning schools, teachers and the efficiency of instruction, into a 
flippant and partisan indictment of the morals of a nation ? 
This memorandum throws no direct light on the question, but 
it enables us to lay down more definitely the limits within which 
the answer is to be found. The only possibilities that remain 
are the Lords of the Committee of Council on Education, the 
Home Secretary and the individual Commissioners. After a 
careful examination of Sir James Kay-Shuttleworth’s papers, 
especially those bearing on his relationship to the Committee of 
Council, I incline to the view that the guilt lies between the 
Home Secretary and the Commissioners. I rule out the Com- 
mittee of Council because there was complete harmony between 
- that body and their Secretary in 1846 (after the advent of the 
new Ministry), and they adopted, with little or no alteration, 
more important documents from him than the one printed above. 

Perhaps it is legitimate to go one step farther and regard it as 
probable that the chief fault lay with the Home Secretary. The 
argument in favour of this hypothesis is that the three Com- 
missioners, working separately, made the same kind of charges : 
a unity of result which seems to imply clear and emphatic in- 
struction from a superior officer. But further documentary 
evidence is required to solve the problem. 

F. SMITH. 


S 


cre estes ees paw otetis Fe ee SU SS STE 


ENS SUM PES ws ES BD IS 


el ee 


f) 


1. ON STOKES’S FORMULA AND THE MAX- 
WELL-LORENTZ EQUATIONS 


1. In a paper to be published elsewhere I have explained what 
is the inherently unsymmetrical character of the conditions 
required in the series of theorems usually connected with the 
name of Stokes. This lack of symmetry arises from the close 
connection of the theorems with the theory of differentials, and 
cannot, it would appear, be avoided. In the applications to 
physical problems, as well as in the various branches of Pure 
Mathematics, Stokes’s Formule play such an important part 
that it seems desirable to show how the inconvenience occa- 
sioned by this lack of symmetry may frequently be reduced to a 


minimum. 


For simplicity of exposition I confine myself to a curved 
manifold © of three dimensions situated in space of four 
dimensions, and bounded by a manifold of two dimensions, 
or surface, 8S. This has the further interest that the results 
obtained are immediately applicable to the equations of the 
Electro-Magnetic theory. 

2. With this understanding we may say that Stokes’s theorem 
asserts under certain conditions, not specified by him, and usually 
slurred over even by modern writers, that a surface integral 
over the bounding surface S is equivalent to a volume integral 
throughout the manifold 2. The formula, in what I shall 
for convenience refer to as the ‘partial Stokes form,’ is the 
following : 


(® Wa idy — (SP. d(z, #, y) , OP S(t, 2,9) 4 a a 
| 2 Blu, | | | oz O(p, 9g, 7) TSE Op, 4. nae ee 


P being a function of (x, y, z, t),a point in four dimensional space. 

The co-ordinates of a point on S are here supposed given in 

terms of two independent parameters uw, v, and those of a point 

in Q in terms of three independent parameters p, g, 7. Also we 

suppose ‘ the formula for an area ’ to hold for S, and ‘ the formula 
181 


182 ON STOKES’S FORMULA 
for a volume’ to hold for 2, so that the area of S and the volume 
of 2 are given by the integrals | | V du dv and || W dp dq dr, 


V? and W? being the sums of the squares of the Jacobians of the 
co-ordinates with respect to the parameters (u, v) and (p, qg, 7) 


respectively. 
For brevity we shall write the above equation in the form 


ff Pee. n=(\\ ‘ A(z, @, Y) = & alt x, »| a lan 


To get the complete ie . Stokes’s formula, we merely have to 
write down, and add, six partial formule of this type, involving 
six functions P,., Pos, P31, Pisa, Pos, P3., the variables of differen- 
tiation in the volume integral being in each case those whose 
indices are the same as those of the function. We adopt the 
usual notation in virtue of which change of order in the pair of 
indices of any P,, gives a change of sign, 1.e., 

1 ee : 
The equation involving P,,, for instance, may then be written 
as follows : 


[f Petes 2o= [ff Pears wy 2) +P Maleg ag)! (1) 


If we write for brevity 
OPis , OPa. , OPae 
“OL 5 0X4 a Ove a Qs 
—in which the three terms are got from one another by cyclical 
interchange of the indices (1, 2,3)—and similar expression for Q,, 
Q., Q;, got in succession from Q, by cyclical permutation of all 
four indices, the complete Stokes’s formula becomes 
(Pisd( (Us, %4) +Posd(%1, %.) +P 5.d(%q, %4) +P 1d (Xp, Xs) ) 
i see i) +P3.d(%, Xs) 
a C 10(X2,U5,%.)— yee ce | (3) 
le —Qi(%1, Le, Hs) ; 

3. I propose in the present Note to show that Stokes’s complete 
formula holds, when, for each of the indices 1 = 1, 2, 3 or 4, each 
function Q,; of the four variables (x1, %2, Xs, 2.) is such that, regarded 
as a function of the single variable x,, it is a differential coefficient. 
We also assume that the partial differential coefficients of the func- 


tions P,. that actually appear—namely = and a are bounded 
x 5” 


a ee eee 


_—_ 


ON STOKES’S FORMULA 183 


functions of the ensemble of all the co-ordinates, though it may be 
remarked that the method employed may be shown to lead to some- 
what more general results. No assumption 1s made as to the 
existence of partial differential coefficients which do not appear ; 
but we assume finally that P,; is a bounded function, and, regarded 
as depending on the remaining pair of co-ordinates, when x, and 
x, are supposed constant, is a mixed differential coefficient of the 
second order. 

As regards the condition last hypothecated, this enables us to 
assert that P,, is the repeated differential coefficient with respect 
to (x;,2;),in the right order, of its repeated integral with respect 
to (%,, %;). 

4. It will be remarked that though in the complete statement 
of Stokes’s theorem thus obtained there is perfect symmetry, 
the partial forms involve a lack of symmetry. 

With regard to the two- and three-dimensional manifolds $ 
and 2 over which we integrate, we make no new assumptions. 
It is to be remembered that in all the proofs given by earlier 
writers these manifolds are regarded as possessing a continuously 
varying tangent (plane or S;), among other restrictive properties. 
It would appear, however, from the considerations exposed in 
the paper referred to at the beginning of the present Note, and 
from results contained in my published papers, that little more 
need be required from § and 2 than that the former should 
possess an area and the latter a volume expressible by the usual 
formule. 

In the present Note we shall assume that the theorem of 
Stokes has already been proved when the conditions satisfied by 
the functions P,; are that P,, and its partial differential co- 

Ok 


efficients a and en should be continuous functions of the 


v J 
ensemble (21, X2, %3, 24), and under the most general assumptions 
regarded as valid with respect to the manifolds of S and 2Q. 

5. We must here remark that the conditions under which we 
have assumed the theorem already proved are prima facie more 
general than those often given, in that no condition as regards 
existence or continuity is imposed on more than two of the four 
partial differential coefficients of P,,, whereas it has been habitual 
to demand both the existence and the continuity of all four. 
The enunciation of Stokes’s theorem with sufficient conditions 


for the validity of the formula has in fact been such that all the 


184 ON STOKES’ FORMULA 


partial differential coefficients of the functions P,, were required 
to exist and to be continuous functions of (%1, %2, %3, %4), no 
distinction being made between those which occur explicitly in 
the formula and those which do not. It would require careful 
consideration of certain of the proofs supplied to see whether 
these hypotheses were actually utilised; in Maxwell’s method 
of proof the missing differential coefficients are expressly intro- 
duced into the reasoning. It is, however, unnecessary to give 
such a discussion here ; if we assume that the theorem has been 
proved under such more stringent conditions, we can, without 
devising ab initio a new method of proof, show how to dispense 
with the continuity of the differential coefficients other than 


Dt Cae We proceed as follows : 
Ox; Ox, : 
Write in place of Ps,, for instance, the expression : 
ith, Hot+he 
| IR BAP 5 MOnlors. 


This expression will have all the properties required hitherto for 
the validity of Stokes’s theorem, provided P,, is a continuous 
function of (%1, %2, %3, Z,.) with bounded partial differential 
coefficients with respect to x; and x, In fact, we obtain con- 
tinuous functions when we differentiate our expression with 
respect to any one of the four co-ordinates. 

If now in the partial Stokes equation involving our expres- 
sion in place of P,,, we make the increments hf; and h, tend to 
zero in any convenient manner, e.g. first h; tend to zero and 
then h,, we shall find that we have removed the objectionable 
conditions. We content ourselves with this indication, as the 
reader will be able to carry out the process for himself after 
reading what follows. We assume, however, that the statement 
is correct, whether proved in this way, or regarded as ostensibly 
proved by other writers, that Stokes’s partial formula may be 
applied, when all reference to partial differential coefficients not 
explicitly appearing in the formula is omitted. 

6. After what has been said, we may pass to the proof of our 
theorem of § 3, assuming as our basis that the partial Stokes 
equation 


6P 6P . 

(«, y) = oa “dit, a, y)! 
[[Pa@m=[[[ to dean +4, deeul . da) 
has been shown to hold under the hypothesis that the two partial 


-—- 


«(0% 


ON STOKES’S FORMULA 185 


differential coefficients which appear in it exist and are continuous 
functions of (x, y, z, t), while P is a continuous function of 


(x, y, 2, t). The equation which we shall deduce from the above, 


supposing P to be such that these conditions are not satisfied, 


but only the more extended conditions of § 3, will not be exactly 
of the same form as the above, but will closely resemble it ; and 


from the equation so obtained we shall be able to deduce the 


complete theorem of Stokes. 

Let us write 

GO (Ore (eal ie Uae 
Pes | | | xdudydzdt/hkgr, 

x Yy d os 
and suppose the function z to be a bounded function with bounded 
partial derivates with respect to z and ¢; then the function P 
satisfies the above conditions. In fact, P is evidently a con- 


tinuous function of (x, y, z, t), and the same is true of - and : 


since 
OP. | ae | es i TL, Y, 2+; t) n(x, Y, 2, t) 


x 


|x dn di 


Y Iu qd 


sige dP 
and a similar expression for es 


We shall now make the assumption that a is a mixed 

dp 
dy dx 
hood of the point. With this assumption, as pointed out in § 3 
we may take the function (x, y, 2, t) to be the double integral 


differential coefficient in some four-dimensional neighbour- 


{J ndady. Hence, since z is bounded, 


f 1 Bar ip varie ; rath ep ytk 
lim. lim. p=— | [im lim. | | szdedy /nie| dedt 
i) V—0 WN gl pes) pele 9 oe 
zt+q t+r 
= | | nied ar. 
t 


z 


‘Therefore, since z is continuous with respect to z and #, in conse- 
quence of the hypotheses made, 
| lim. lim. lim. iene Bear 
Oy wg 0) yah Oh 0. 
Similarly, since the partial differential coefficients of P with 
respect to z and ¢ are bounded, 


186 ON STOKES’S FORMULA 


t+r 
fe a ee | US 
¢20 b=0 F206 9) ae 
~ while 
ec t-+r 
iin oO ae on Slee a= | = 
G0 = Oe One Oe re 
so that 
OD 20m 


lim. lim. lim. lim. a ee 
Fe0-5¢ 20 b= 0 he Oe ee 
Hence, using term-by-term integration, which is allowable since 
all the integrands are bounded, Stokes’s partial equation for P’ 
leads by the quadruple Se process to the eS: — 
\| adudy =||j [im = | Geaelae 2, y+ dl, 1D, ” | 
ee Ot rs Oe 
This is the equation which now replaces Stokes’s partial equation 
with which we started. 

7. Referring now to the conditions for Stokes’s complete 
theorem given in § 3, we see that we may replace z in the 
preceding equation by Ps,. 

The equation ney, then be written 


C tar 
\| P,.d(a,, x =|] oLi say =| | Eile SB 
S Sea if 


023 ) 
ap = A(X, Vay 2») ] 


The integrand of the integral under the limit-sign is the first 
term of — Q,/r, the meaning of Q, being given by (2). Hence, 
permuting cyclically the indices 1, 2, 3 and adding the three 
equations so obtained, we get under the limit-sign the expression 
l Nee OP ia Oban 1 oe 


v4, 


Vee) 


6x, 6x, == bf. he LL eRe Q) dx 4. 


Since, by hypothesis, Q, is a differential coefficient with respect 
to x,, that is ¢, and is bounded, this limit is equal to — Q,. Hence 
the result of adding the three equations is as follows: 


| {Pale at.) + P,d(as, v2) +P.d(2., xa} 


ey “ Us 


e 


oe ‘| | -Qudle 1, 2») As ey BAK 3) ~|- — oer H 95 Xs) ; 
ev O ji 
AP 54 


: 


dx. A(Xa, H 3, es) 


Se ae 
34 : 


ON STOKES’S FORMULA 187 
We may write the right-hand side 


“[jf,[-aaeveee of 


Otn 
OP 34 
OX 4 


so that the successive Jacobians, involved in the symbols 
U(X 4, Ls, LX), A(X, Ls, Xs), A(X, Xi, Xz), can be deduced each from 
the preceding by the cyclical permutation of the indices 1, 2, 3, 4. 
In this way also Q., Q,, Q,, Q;, are similarly permuted. More- 
over, we notice that the differential coefficients that occur in the 
equation last written down, namely those with respect to x, of 
P,., P., and P,,, are respectively the first term of Q,, the third 
term of Q,, and the second term of Q;. Thus, if we repeat this 
cyclical permutation of the four indices, combining this operation 
each time with a change of sign, then add the four equations so 
obtained, and finally divide through by 2, the result will be the 
following equation : 


OP a. 


ed (oes X 3, 407) ra 
OX 4 


ON G5. HX a, 2+) 


+ 


OG. V1, x), 


\| Pode» %o) + Pi .d(zs, X 3) als Pods, £1) +P,.d(%3, XL 1) 
» Ss 
AE. llega ed. Glee *.)| 
= | [Qa HX 3, #4) —Q d(x s, X a, X1)+Q d(x, %1, 2) 
J 2 Q 


—Q d(X1, Xo, ) 


But this is precisely Stokes’s formula in its complete form, and 
it has: been proved under the conditions given in § 3. This 
therefore proves the theorem. 

8. If we now compare our equations (2) with the Maxwell- 
Lorentz equations of Electro-Dynamics — 


ON OM 6X 7 ON a OL 


Dy | Oz on? OL ie eee 

ei ON OV is OX 04 5 OM 

62) 0x Oi 62 = on 4) Ol 
ae SY) © ox | ON }?) 
bz by © bt nao) So) or 

pew 60 él, 6M | ON’, 
ee dy oe fo 6 oe 


188 ON STOKES’S FORMULA 


we see that these eight equations fall into two sets of four equa- 
tions of the type of our relations (2). In the set (f) the quantities 
Q., Q., Q; and Q, are all zero, and therefore satisfy all that we 
have required of them. In the set (a), however, we have in place 
of these quantities the functions A, B, C and 9; so that, to bring 
this into line with what precedes, we should have to require that 
A should be a differential coefficient with respect to x, B with 
respect to y, C with respect to z, and 0 with respect tot. In each 
of the sets (a) and (8) the same six functions L, M, N, X, Y, Z, 
appear implicitly by means of their partial differential coefficients ; 
and in the case of each function these differential coefficients are 
taken with respect to two only of the co-ordinates in one set, and 
with respect to the other two co-ordinates in the other set. We 
have then, treating each set of equations separately, to require 
each function to be a mixed differential coefficient with respect 
to the pair of variables for which the differential coefficients do 
not appear. When we take the two sets simultaneously, these 
last conditions disappear, since they are fulfilled of themselves. 


Take, for instance, X in the first set, where = and. = occur. 
If we did not assume the truth of the second set of equations, we 
should have the condition that X must be a mixed differential 
coefficient with respect to y and z in one or the other order, that 


is by § 3, 


02 6° 62 . 
= = || | 2% Sas NG 
f=. =| | Xdedy or X as ( | Xdyae 
‘The second set of equations, however, contains a and cS d 


which are accordingly not only existent, but bounded. There- 
fore X is continuous with respect to y and with respect to z, and 
is therefore a differential coefficient with respect to each of these 
co-ordinates. Hence, as is easily proved, it is the mixed differen- 
tial coefficient of its double integral. 

This proves the statement made above, that this condition 
is fulfilled of itself, when we take all the eight Electro-Dynamic 
equations simultaneously. 

9. The quantity 90, which appears in the Maxwell-Lorentz 
equations, is the volume-density of electricity, and A, B, C are 
the components of the convection current. It at once follows, 
from what has been pointed out, that these equations may be 
replaced by the corresponding integral equations 


eee Se. EEE eee 


ON STOKES’S FORMULA 189 
| | | (Xdydz + Ydede + Zdady — Ldxdt — Mdydt — Ndzdt) 
NS) 


= | | | (Adydedt + Bdzdxdt + Cdzdydt + odadydz), 
& 
and 
| | (Ldydz + Mdadz + Ndady + Xdadi + Ydydt + Zdzdt) = 0, 
SS) 


provided the volume-density of electricity is a function of 
(x, y, 2, t) which is continuous with respect to ¢, or at least is a 
bounded differential coefficient with respect to ¢; and the con- 
vection current is such that each of its components parallel to 
the axes of x, y, 2 is continuous, or more generally is a bounded 
differential coefficient, with respect to the corresponding co- 
ordinate. These conditions are sufficient, provided the partial 
differential coefficients that appear in the equations exist and 


are bounded. 
W. H. YOUNG. 


o 


Rn 
: 


or . a_i, Zee el 
ae ee —- 


2. RECENT INVESTIGATIONS OF THE 
SCATTERING OF X- AND y-RAYS 


Dourine the last two years measurements have been published 
of the scattering of moderately hard X-rays by Aurén?! at the 
Nobel Institution, Stockholm, and of very hard y-rays by A. H. 
‘Compton,? of Washington University. These measurements, 
‘scanty as they are, are so important for theories of the structure 
of the atom, as well as of the electron, as to deserve discussion 
in the light of recent investigations of the scattering of X- and 
yy-rays by atoms and electrons. It may be stated at the outset 
that the results of this discussion are decidedly unfavourable to 
theories which postulate arrangements in the atom of exceedingly 
small discrete electrons, of linear dimensions comparable with 
10— 13 cm., whether in circular rings or spherical shells, either at 
rest or revolving about a common axis—such theories in fact as 
those of Nagaoka, J. J. Thomson, Rutherford and Bohr. On 
tthe other hand, they support the view, first put forward by A. H. 
Compton, that the electron is a continuous, more or less flexible 
structure, whose linear dimensions are of the order 10—!° em., 
comparable with the wave lengths of very hard y-rays—such 
‘electrons in fact as the perfectly flexible spherical electron, 
favoured by Compton himself, and the ring-electron, which must, 
however, be regarded as possessing a high degree of rigidity 
towards high frequency disturbances. It is difficult to see how 
a spherical electron of radius 10~!° cm. could be reconciled, either 
with Bohr’s theory of atomic structure, or with Rutherford and 
‘Chadwick’s experiments on the atomic nucleus ; moreover, it is 
incompatible with an electromagnetic explanation of the mass of 
the electron. The ring-electron is not open to these objections 
to anything like the same degree as the spherical electron of large 

17. KE. Aurén, Meddelanden fran K. Vetenskapsakademiens Nobelinstitut, 
iBd. 4, No. 5, 1920. 


2 A. H. Compton, Washington University Studies, Vol. VIII, Se. Ser., 
No. 2, pp. 93-130, 1921. 


191 


192 THE SCATTERING OF X- AND y-RAYS 


dimensions, but its theory is only in process of development, and. 
judgment must necessarily be suspended until a satisfactory 
theory has been constructed. In any case the measurements. 
made hitherto are too few in number and hardly accurate enough 
to be absolutely decisive, but they are sufficient to show the need. 
for further measurements, more particularly on liquid hydrogen. 
Jt will be convenient to begin by summarising briefly the results: 
of the measurements of Aurén and Compton, and then to com- 
pare them with the conclusions drawn from recent theoretical 
investigations. 

Aurén’s measurements were made on certain hydrocarbons. 
and their derivatives for six different nearly homogeneous groups 
of X-rays, and the results were used to calculate the mass scatter- 
ing coefficients of hydrogen, carbon, nitrogen and oxygen for 
each of these groups from a comparison with the mass absorption 


coefficients of copper, which could be determined directly. - 


The results for hydrogen are given in the following table, where 
4 denotes the mean wavelength of a group of rays in Angstrom 
units (10-8 cm.), o the mass scattering coefficient, reckoned per 
gram, for hydrogen and for each wavelength, o the theoretical. 
value of o for infinite wavelength according to J. J. Thomson’s: 
simple theory, viz. 0-400 very nearly, and p.e. the probable error 
of each result—kindly supplied to the writer by Dr. Aurén himself 
in a separate communication. It should be stated that the values: 
of o were recalculated by the writer by means of Aurén’s equation 
(5), without the use of a certain empirical relation employed by 
Aurén himself to simplify the calculation ; this relation does not 


agree with the first measurement, and it seems desirable to work. 


with the measurements themselves : 


A "399 302 -264 -237 -215 194 
o 414 *380 363 “B04 “341 341 
0/04 1-035 -950 -908 *885 *853 *893 
p.e. 027 037 "053 037 058 "027 


The first value of o/c, exceeds J. J. Thomson’s value by an: 
amount somewhat greater than the p.e. of this series of obser- 
vations, but not by an impossible amount, and the second value 
falls short by a not impossible amount. But the remaining values 
are much too small, and above all show a continued diminution,. 
which is inexplicable on J. J. Thomson’s theory, since it requires: 


the scattering coefficient to be independent of the wavelength. 


, 
) 
| 
| 
| 
| 


THE SCATTERING OF X- AND »y-RAYS 193 


Aurén obtains a similar diminution of the mass absorption 
coefficients of carbon, nitrogen and oxygen with a decrease of 
wavelength, and finds that these coefficients are very nearly six, 
seven and eight times the mass scattering coefficient of hydrogen 
respectively, especially at the smaller wavelengths, results which 
indicate that for these elements true absorption is almost 
negligible. These results, however, are not so important as those 
given above for hydrogen, at any rate for our purpose, and need 
not be considered further. : 

Turning now to Compton’s measurements we notice that they 
are very few in number, but extremely definite as regards the 
magnitude of the scattering. On p. 113 of his latest paper, 
already referred to, he states that for hard y-rays from radium 
C of approximate wavelength 3-10—! cm. the intensity of the 
energy scattered in a direction making an angle of 120° with 
the direction of the incident beam of y-rays is less than one- 
thousandth of that given by J. J. Thomson’s theory, whilst 
for wavelength 1:3:10—-%° cm. and in the direction 45° it is 
only about 3 per cent. of that given by that theory. He finds 
also that the perfectly flexible spherical electron of radius 
5.10—-1 em. accounts for all his results, as well as for those of 
Hull and Rice on the total scattering coefficient of hard X-rays 
of wavelength 1:5:10-°cm. but that the perfectly flexible ring- 
electron, whose circular axis has a radius 2-6-10~ 1° cm., although 
it accounts for the scattering of moderately hard X-rays, gives 
the intensity of scattering from five to ten times too large for the 
hard y-rays. ; 

We must now turn to recent theoretical investigations of the 
scattering of X- and y-rays ; there are four of these, all obviously 
made independently and confirming one another. Debye! 
determined what fraction of the energy of the incident beam of 
X-rays is scattered in a direction making an angle 0 with the 
incident beam by an irregularly orientated assemblage of atoms, 
all containing similar and similarly placed groups of electron, 
and Houston ? solved the same problem independently. Both 
writers treat the electrons as being at rest initially, though Debye 
states explicitly that this assumption can only be made without 
error if the speeds of the electrons be so small that their displace- 
ments during one vibration are small in comparison with the 

1 Debye, Ann. d. Phys., F. 4, B. 46, p. 809, 1915. 


2 Houston, Proc. Roy. Soc. Hdin., Vol. XL, Pt. 1, p. 43, 1920. 
ASV Ole Ve O 


194 THE SCATTERING OF X- AND y-RAYS 


wavelength. The writer! solved the same problem for circular 
rings of equidistant electrons in uniform motion about their 
common axis, taking into account the effect of the velocity on 
the phase of the scattered radiation,? but neglecting its effect on 
the intensity. In addition he obtained expressions for the 
asymmetry between the forward and backward radiation, and 
for the total scattering coefficient, the last In a form applicable to 
results such as Aurén’s, and extended the investigation to the 
case of the perfectly flexible ring-electron, treated as the limit 
of a ring with an infinite number of infinitely small discrete 
electrons. Compton? investigated the scattering due to an 
electron at rest, whose linear dimensions are oi the same order 
of magnitude as the wavelength of the incident radiation. 

The first three of these investigations agree perfectly as 
regards the distribution of the scattered radiation in various 
directions, but only the third gives the total scattering needed 
for comparison with Aurén’s and similar measurements, so that 
we need not consider Debye’s and Houston’s results any further. 
The writer’s investigation shows that the total scattering of a 
ring of 7 electrons is given correctly by J. J. Thomson’s value for 
very small wavelengths, but is much greater for large wavelengths, 
tending to a limit 7 times as great, if resonance be neglected. For 
Bohr’s H atom ” = 1, and the total scattering is independent of 
the wavelength and equal to J. J. Thomson’s value 0-400 per 
gram. ‘This constitutes a minimum for each electron of a ring 
of discrete electrons. Clearly it is incompatibie with Aurén’s 
results for hydrogen. 

The theory worked out in all these investigations is based on 


1 Schott, Proc. Roy. Soc:, A, Vol: XCVI, p. 395, 1920; 

2 It may be mentioned parenthetically that Compton’s criticism of the 
writer’s formula (32), /.c., p. 409, for the scattering due to atoms containing 
coaxal rings of electrons, revolving with different angular velocities, is 
irrelevant because he overlooks this fundamental point. Waves of the 
same frequency after being scattered by these rings no longer have a 
constant phase relation between them and consequently only interfere so 
far as the fundamental emitted wave isconcerned. Butfor X-rays, such 
as those used in practice, the intensity of the fundamental is no greater 
than that of a number of the nearest harmonics, so that the total 
interference is slight. For longer rays resonance becomes appreciable, 
and the formule for pure scattering must not be applied. The formula 
given by Compton for infinitely long waves thus involves an extrapola- 
tion of very doubtful validity. 

3 Compton, /.c.; also Phys. Rev., Vol. XIV, p. 20, 1919. 


a 


THE SCATTERING OF X- AND y-RAYS 195 


three assumptions, which might conceivably be modified: (1) 
The intra-atomic forces controlling the electrons are assumed to 
be negligible in comparison with the effective forces due to the 
disturbance ; (2) the velocities of the electrons are supposed 
small compared with that of light; (3) the incident X-rays are 
assumed to be undamped waves. We may consider these 
assumptions briefly as applied to Bohr’s H atom. 

(1) The controlling force of the nucleus is e?/a® times the 
disturbance, or of that order, the effective force of the electron is 
47?c?m /A? times the disturbance, and their ratio is of the order 
e7A2/40?c?ma?. The value of the universal constant e2/42c2m 
is 2:2.10—14cm., for Bohr’s H atom a= -5.10~-8 cm., and for Aurén’s 
trays A = °36.10-*. Thus the ratio is less than 2-3.10~°. 

(2) Further investigation shows that the total scattering is 
altered by a fraction of the order 2, probably increased. For 
Bohr’s H atom f = -0073, so that the possible change is only a 
fraction of the order 5.10 °. 

(3) Damped radiation is scattered more than undamped 
radiation by Bohr’s H atom for all wavelengths below 4:3.10~8 cm. 

Thus, none of these causes can possibly explain the smallness 
of Aurén’s results for hydrogen. 

Both Compton’s and the writer’s investigations on the 
scattering of the ring-electron show that the total scattering per 
gram is below J. J. Thomson's value 0-400 for hydrogen, and can 
account for Aurén’s results when the radius of the circular axis is 
taken to be about 1:5.10—7° cm., the radius of the circular section 
being very small in comparison, if the electromagnetic mass is to 


agree with the observed mass. If the former radius be a, the 


latter b, and the charge e, then the electric force at the surface 
of the electron is known to be of the order e/zab. For oscillatory 
disturbances of the core Pocklington! finds that the controlling 
electric force is of the order e/zab? times the displacement. 
Hencé for an element of charge de and mass 6m at the surface 
the ratio controlling force: effective force is of the order 
eded?/47%c2ab?dm. If with Compton we assume that de/dm is 
of the order e/m, we obtain €7/?/47°c?mab?, which is greater than 
the value found for Bohr’s H atom in the ratio a?: 2b?. For a 
fine ring-electron this ratio may be very great, but even if a be 
only one-thousand times 6, the controlling force will be com- 


1 Pocklington, Phil. Trans., A, Vol. CLXXXVI, p. 603, 1895. 


196 THE SCATTERING OF X- AND »-RAYS 


parable with the effective force, and the ring-electron cannot be 
treated as perfectly flexible. A very fine ring-electron will 
behave like a rigid ring towards some types of vibration at least, 
so that Compton’s rejection of the ring-electron cannot be 


eee in the absence of a satisfactory theory. 
& A SOHO: 


38. THE ADDITION OF HYDROGEN TO 
ACETYLENIC ACIDS! 


ReEpvctTIon of phenylpropiolic acid and tetrolic acid with the 
usual reducing agents employed in organic chemistry yields 
ordinary cinnamic acid and crotonic acid respectively. That 
is to say, trans addition of hydrogen seems to take place, yielding 
the more stable of the two possible isomeric ethylenic acids. 
This is to be expected for the comparatively violent reactions 
involved in ordinary reductions would tend to produce the more 
stable isomer. Direct addition of molecular hydrogen under 
conditions which do not tend to convert any of the less stable 
isomer formed into the more stable form might possibly give a 
different result and Paal and Hartmann (Ber. 1909, 42, 3930) 
showed this to be the case with phenylpropiolic acid. By direct 
addition of molecular hydrogen, using colloidal palladium as 


catalyst, they obtained a full yield of allocinnamic acid, showing 


that the addition of molecular hydrogen to phenylpropiolic 
acid is a cis addition. 

It was of interest, therefore, to investigate the addition of 
molecular hydrogen to other acetylenic acids. In this paper 
the addition to tetrolic acid and to acetylenedicarboxylic acid has 
been investigated. It was hoped that the results obtained 
would throw further light on the problem of the mechanism of 
addition to unsaturated compounds. 


EXPERIMENTAL WORK 


The colloidal palladium used in these experiments was prepared 

by the method described by Paal and Amberger (Ber. 1904, 37, 134). 
A solution of palladium chloride is added slowly to a solution of 
sodium protalbate which contains a slight excess of sodium 
hydroxide, The reddish-brown solution is then reduced by 
‘1 This paper was one of a group, entitled ‘Studies in the Stereo- 


Chemistry of the Unsaturated Organic Acids,’ presented by the late Mr. 
D. E. Williams for the M.Sc. degree of the University of Wales in 1921. 


197 


198 ADDITION OF HYDROGEN TO ACETYLENIC ACIDS 


adding hydrazine hydrate solution drop by drop. Excess of 
hydrazine hydrate, sodium hydroxide and salt are removed by 
dialysis. In this way the colloidal palladium is obtained in the 
‘protected’ state. Paal and Amberger obtained the solid 
protected palladium colloid by evaporation in vacuo, but this 
was not done for these experiments, the solution obtained after 
dialysis being used directly. 0:85 grams of palladium chloride 
were used in the preparation, and the solution after dialysis was 
made up to 100 ¢.cs. Known volumes of this solution were used 
in the different experiments, so that the quantity of palladium 
used was known. This solution did not deteriorate during the 
period over which the experiments extended, and gave very 
satisfactory results. | 

The apparatus used in the hydrogenation consisted of a 
500 c.c. gas burette joined by pressure tubing to a bottle which 
contained the solution. The bottle was placed in a mechanical - 
shaker driven by a hot-air engine. The hydrogen used was that 
supplied in cylinders by the British Oxygen Co., which is pure 
and gave far more satisfactory results than hydrogen prepared in 
the laboratory in the ordinary way. The burette was filled with 
hydrogen from the cylinder and by adjusting the levels of the 
water in the burette and its side tube the pressure could be kept 
constant throughout the experiment. The whole apparatus 
-was thoroughly tested before beginning the experiment and was 
found to be perfectly airtight. By means of a side tube the bottle 
and the pressure tubing could be evacuated with a hand pump. 
The bottle was then filled with hydrogen and evacuated twice in 
order to remove all air. It was finally filled with hydrogen, the 
levels adjusted, the initial volume of hydrogen in the burette 
noted and the shaker put into motion. The diminution in 
volume of the hydrogen in the burette corresponded to the volume 
of hydrogen absorbed. When the necessary volume had been 
absorbed the experiment was stopped. The apparatus worked 
very satisfactorily, and by keeping the levels of the water in the 
burette and side tube constant and noting the volume of hydrogen 
absorbed from time to time an idea of the rate of hydrogenation 
could be obtained. 


ADDITION OF HYDROGEN TO TETROLIC ACID 


The tetrolic acid used was prepared by the action of phosphorus 
pentachloride on aceto-acetic ester, and subsequent treatment of 


ea aS 


ADDITION OF HYDROGEN TO ACETYLENIC ACIDS — 199 


the product (a mixture of the 6 chlorocrotonic acids) with potas- 
sium hydroxide solution (Fittig and Clutterbuck, A, 1892, 268, 
96). On re-crystallisation from high boiling petroleum ether 
it was obtained as colourless crystals melting at 75—-76° C. 

2-64 grams of tetrolic acid were dissolved in an equivalent 
quantity of sodium carbonate solution, the volume of the solution 
being 25 c.cs.; 15 c.cs. of the colloidal palladium solution 
were added (this contained 0-08 grams palladium). The 
quantity of tetrolic acid used needed 705 c.cs. of hydrogen at 
N.T.P., or 756 c.cs. at 18° C. and 770 mm. pressure, the conditions 
of the experiment. 


Tae i Males: Volume of hydrogen absorbed 


in C.¢cs. 

10 : ‘ A : : : 38 
25 : ; 5 : 3 ; 77 
40 ; . ; : ; hs 
60 : 5 2 ; ‘ ESO 
75 : : : : é 5 AD 
90 : 3 : : : 5 BZD 
105 5 : : ; : 4 axel) 


At this point the burette had to be refilled with hydrogen, and 
it was found that the hydrogen cylinder was exhausted. A 
hydrogen generating apparatus had to be fitted up and the 
burette recharged from this. The effect of using impure hydrogen 
was startling, the rate of absorption of hydrogen falling to about 
one-third of the previous rate due to poisoning of the catalyst. 
The remaining 376 c.cs. of hydrogen which were necessary for 
complete hydrogenation took 350 minutes for absorption. 

After the addition of the hydrogen was complete the solution 
was acidified and the precipitated palladium filtered off. The 
solution was then extracted several times with ether and the 
ethereal solution carefully dried over calcium chloride. The 
ether was evaporated off by drawing a current of dry air through 
the solution. In this way the ether was got rid of quickly and 
the risk of moisture getting at the solution minimised. The 
residue, after complete evaporation of the ether, was an oil which 
did not solidify on immersing ina freezing mixture at —5° C. It 
was possibly a mixture of crotonic and allocrotonic acids. The 
total yield was 1-80 grams. 


200 ADDITION OF HYDROGEN TO ACETYLENIC ACIDS 


SEPARATION OF THE CROTONIC AND ALLOCROTONIC 
ACIDS 


Michael and Schulthess (J. Pr. Chem. 1892, 46, 236) describe 
a method for the separation of the two crotonic acids which 
depends on the difference of solubility of their sodium salts in 
absolute alcohol. On addition of the theoretical amount of 
alcoholic sodium hydroxide solution to the solution of the crotonic 
acids in absolute alcohol, sodium crotonate is precipitated and 
sodium allocrotonate remains in solution. Wislicenus (C., 1897, 
II, 259) adopted a similar method with slight modifications as 
Michael’s original method did not give a complete separation. 
Morrell and Bellars (Trans. 1904, 85, 345) describe a method of 
separation based on the difference of solubility of the quinine 
salts in water, the quinine salt of allocrotonic acid being less 
soluble than that of ordinary crotonic acid. The quinine salt 
of ordinary crotonic acid melts at 134-136° C., whilst that of 
pure allocrotonic acid melts at 156° C. (Morrell and Bellars, 
abid.). 

The 1:8 grams of oil were dissolved in 30 c.cs. absolute alcohol 
and then neutralised with a 10 per cent. solution of sodium 
hydroxide in absolute alcohol. A precipitate of sodium crotonate 
was formed which was filtered off. The weight of this when dry 
was 0:52 grams. The alcoholic solution was then evaporated 
down to half the original bulk. More solid separated out which 
was filtered off and washed with small quantities of absolute 
alcohol. The weight of this when dry was 0:2 grams. The total 
weight of precipitated sodium salt was therefore 0:72 grams. 
According to Michael this should consist of the sodium salt of 
ordinary crotonic acid. This was now treated as follows: 

It was dissolved in water, treated with dilute hydrochloric 
acid and extracted a considerable number of times with ether. 
After the ethereal solution had been dried over calcium chloride 
the ether was evaporated off by the method previously described. 
An oil was obtained which did not solidify at a temperature of 
—5°C. It could not therefore be pure crotonic acid (M.P. 72° C.), 
but was probably a mixture of the two isomers. An attempt was 
made to separate the two acids by freezing out the ordinary 
crotonic acid. The oil was immersed in carbon dioxide ‘ snow ’ 
and at this temperature it readily solidified. On allowing the 


ADDITION OF HYDROGEN TO ACETYLENIC ACIDS 201 


temperature to rise gradually partial melting took place, and oil 
being again found together with a very small quantity of crystals. 
The oil was carefully separated from the crystals. This was 
repeated a second time, and in this way a small quantity of crystals 
were obtained which remained solid at the temperature of the 
room. ‘The weight of the crystals was 0-10 gram, and the melting 
point was found to be 70-72°C. Hence these crystals were 
ordinary crotonic acid. After the ordinary crotonic acid had 
been separated off as completely as possible in this way the quinine 
salt of the oil was prepared. This melted at 156° C. sharp. No 
more soluble fraction with a lower melting point was obtained. 
This oil therefore was pure allocrotonic acid. Thus the 0-72 
grams of the precipitated sodium salt gave 0-10 gram of ordinary 
crotonic acid, the remainder being allocrotonic acid. 

The alcoholic solution after filtering off the precipitated sodium 
salts was evaporated down to dryness, and the acid liberated 
from the solid residue in the manner described for the precipitated 
sodium salts. An oil was obtained which solidified on immersion 
in a freezing mixture. The solid thus obtained melted about 


5-9° C. The quinine salt of this was prepared as before and was 


found to melt at 154-156° C. No fraction with a lower melting 
point was obtained. Thus the oil obtained from the sodium salt 
soluble in alcohol was fairly pure allocrotonic acid. The 1-8 
grams of oil originally obtained from the experiment, therefore, 
consisted of 0-10 gram of ordinary crotonic acid, the remainder 
being allocrotonic acid. — 

Addition of molecular hydrogen to 2-64 grams of tetrolic 
acid gave 0-10 gram ordinary crotonic acid, or about 4 per cent. 
of theory, and 1-70 grams of allocrotonic acid, or 63 per cent. 


theoretical yield. 


ADDITION OF HYDROGEN TO ACETYLENEDICARBOXYLIC 
ACID 


For the preparation of the acetylenedicarboxylic acid the 
method described by Lossen (A., 1892, 272, 127) was first adopted, 
dibromosuccinic acid being boiled with four equivalents of 
N potassium hydroxide solution for twenty minutes. The 
acetylenedicarboxylic acid obtained in this way was, however, 
very impure and considerable difficulty was experienced in 
purifying it. Another method was adopted, namely, boiling 


202 ADDITION OF HYDROGEN TO ACETYLENIC ACIDS 


bromofumaric acid with three equivalents of N potassium 
hydroxide solution for about twelve minutes. The product 
obtained was fairly pure and on re-crystallisation from a mixture 
of chloroform and petroleum ether melted at 177—178° C. 

A preliminary hydrogenation experiment was carried out 
with 1 gram of acetylenedicarboxylic acid. Owing to the 
breakdown of the engine driving the shaker when about three- 
fifths of the theoretical quantity of hydrogen had been added the 
experiment could not be completed. An examination of the 
product, however, indicated the presence of succinic acid. 
Although no definite conclusions could be drawn from this experi- 
ment, the presence of succinic acid after only three-fifths of the 
hydrogen necessary for converting the acetylenedicarboxylic into 
either maleic or fumaric acid showed that the addition of hydrogen 
in this case is a more complicated reaction than the addition to 
tetrolic and phenylpropiolic acids. The formation of succinic | 
acid might be due either to the partial decomposition of the 
sodium acetylenedicarboxylate during the experiment or to the 
fact that the addition of hydrogen to either maleic or fumaric 
acid took place more readily than to acetylenedicarboxylic 
acid. 

SECOND EXPERIMENT.—With a view of investigating the 
cause of the formation of succinic acid in the first experiment 
considerably less than the theoretical quantity of hydrogen 
was added in this case. In this way it was hoped to avoid the 
addition of excess of hydrogen in view of the possibility of 
partial decomposition of the acetylenedicarboxylic acid taking 
place. : 

One gram of acetylenedicarboxylic acid was taken, dissolved 
in 10 c.cs. of water and 2 N potassium hydroxide solution 
was run in until the solution just turned alkaline to phenol- 
phthalein. This occurred when a little more than one equivalent 
of alkali had been added and is probably due to the fact that 
the potassium salt of acetylenedicarboxylic acid is hydrolysed 
and gives an alkaline reaction. Ten c.cs. of the colloidal 
palladium solution were added (equivalent to 0-053 grams of 
palladium). One gram of acetylenedicarboxylic acid needed 
theoretically 207 c.cs. of hydrogen at 773 mm. pressure and 
13° C. (the conditions of the experiment) to convert it to the ~ 
ethylenic derivative. In the experiment, however, only 140 
c.cs. of hydrogen were added. 


ADDITION OF HYDROGEN TO ACETYLENIC ACIDS — 203. 


Tike Volume of hydrogen absorbed 


iN, C.CS. 
1 : 3 : ; : : 39 
30 : : F f 3 : vis) 
40 2 : : : : ; 94 
55 2 ; i ; ; se la! 
65 ; : : : ; bo LOAD) 
79 ? : 2 : : Pi aplley? 
87 : : ; ; ; eee) 


It will be noticed that after about 94 c.cs. of hydrogen have been 
added the rate of addition falls considerably. 

After the 140 c.cs. of hydrogen had been added the solution 
was acidified to precipitate the colloidal palladium. After 
filtering off the palladium the solution was again neutralised 
with potassium hydroxide solution so as to avoid the possibility 
of transforming any maleic acid which might be formed into: 
fumaric acid in the process of evaporating down. ‘The solution 
was then reduced to a comparatively small bulk and re-acidified 
with dilute hydrochloric acid. It was extracted several times. 


with ether, the ethereal solution dried over calcium chloride 


and the ether allowed to evaporate off. After a time a 
quantity of crystals separated out. These were collected and 
melted at 165-182° and were probably impure succinic acid. 
They were treated twice with a small quantity of ether to 
remove any acetylenedicarboxylic acid. The residue after this 
treatment melted at 182-183° C. It was checked by taking a 
“mixed melt’ with some pure succinic acid. Equal portions of 
the residue and succinic acid mixed together gave a melting point 
of 181-5-183° C. The crystals which separated out of the ether 
solution were therefore succinic acid. 

The ethereal solution after the succinic acid had been removed 
was allowed to evaporate to dryness. The solid residue obtained 
melted at 175—-178° C., and was probably unchanged acetylene- 
carboxylic acid. This was confirmed by taking a ‘ mixed melt ’ 
as before, with some of the original acetylenedicarboxylic acid. 
The melting point of the mixture was 175-178° C. Hence the 
residue obtained from the ethereal solution was unchanged 
acetylenedicarboxylic acid. There was no indication of any 
fumaric or maleic acid. 

The product of hydrogenation was thus succinic acid— 
although less than the quantity of hydrogen necessary to convert 


2904 ADDITION OF HYDROGEN TO ACETYLENIC ACIDS 


the acetylenic acid to the ethylenic acid had been added—and — 


some of the original acetylenedicarboxylic acid was left unchanged. 
This result can only be explained by the addition of hydrogen 
taking place more readily to either fumaric or maleic acid than 
to acetylenedicarboxylic acid, any ethylenic acid formed being 
further reduced to the saturated acid. : 
THIRD EXPERIMENT.—This experiment was carried out in 
the same manner as the previous one, but the addition of hydrogen 
was stopped as soon as there was any indication of a change in 
the rate of addition of hydrogen. One gram of acetylenedicar- 
boxylic acid was dissolved in 10 ¢c.cs. of water and 2 N potassium 
hydroxide solution added until the solution was just faintly 
alkaline. Ten c.cs. of the colloidal palladium solution were added. 


Time in. Minutes. C.cs. of hydrogen absorbed. 
15 : : ; : : : 27 
25 . : : : ; : 50 
35 : . : : A nae 80 
45 é : 3 : 2 : 96 
55 : : s : : £08 


The addition was stopped at this point as the figures showed 
that the rate of absorption of hydrogen was rapidly decreasing. 

The solution was treated as described in the previous experi- 
ment for the first part. The concentrated solution, aiter it 
had been re-acidified, was extracted twice with ether. The 
residue from the ethereal solution after evaporation gave no 
definite melting point; a portion seemed to melt between 165— 
175° C., but the remainder remained solid at a temperature over 
220° C. It was then treated three times with small quantities 
of ether. The residue had no definite melting point, but partial 
decomposition seemed to set in between about 235-260° C. 
This agrees with the behaviour of fumaric acid. The other acids 
which might possibly be present all have definite melting points 
—maleic acid, 130° C., acetylenedicarboxylic acid, 178° C., and 
succinic acid, 185° C.—so that the residue obtained above was 
undoubtedly fumaric acid. The residue from the ethereal extract 
obtained above was further fractionally treated with small 
quantities of ether. In this way a more soluble portion was 
obtained which melted at 175-178° C., agreeing with acetylene- 
dicarboxylic acid. A very small quantity of a less soluble 
fraction was obtained which showed signs of decomposition above 
230°C, This was probably a little fumaric acid which had been dis- 


= —————————— 


SSS 


| 


ADDITION OF HYDROGEN TO ACETYLENIC ACIDS — 205 


solved by the ether together with the acetylenedicarboxylic acid. 

The original solution after having been extracted twice with 
ether was then further extracted eight times with ether. On 
allowing the dried ethereal solution to evaporate to dryness a 
very small quantity of residue was obtained which melted at 
182-184° C. and was probably succinic acid. This was confirmed 
by a “mixed melt.’ 

The experiment thus resulted in a mixture of fumaric acid, 
succinic acid and some unchanged acetylenedicarboxylic acid. 
Owing to the difficulty of separating these acids quantitatively, 
especially when dealing with small quantities, the actual amounts 
of fumaric and succinic acids formed could not be obtained with 
any degree of accuracy. It seems, therefore, that during 
hydrogenation fumaric acid is first formed. But it seems probable 
that when the concentration of acetylenedicarboxylic acid has 
decreased and that of fumaric acid increased to a certain point 
the rate of addition of hydrogen to fumaric acid becomes compar- 
able with that of hydrogen to acetylenedicarboxylic acid, thus 
accounting for the formation of succinic acid. 

This experiment, however, shows that the addition of one 


molecule of hydrogen to acetylenedicarboxylic acid results in 


the formation of fumaric and not maleic acid. 

FourtH EXPERIMENT.—In this experiment the acetylene- 
dicarboxylic acid was dissolved in exactly two equivalents of 
alkali and the full theoretical quantity of hydrogen added. 

1-56 grams of the acid were taken and dissolved in 10 c.cs. of 
water. Two equivalents of 2 N potassium hydroxide solution 
were added, the resulting solution being strongly alkaline ; 15 c.cs. 
of the colloidal palladium solution were added. The quantity 
of hydrogen necessary for 1:56 grams of acetylenedicarboxylic 
acid is 329 c.cs. at 764 mm. pressure and 14° C. (the conditions of 
the experiment). | 


Time in Minutes. C.cs. of hydrogen absorbed. 
15 : : ; ‘ : : 53 
25 : : : 5 ‘ ie oO 
30 5 : F : : . 186 
30 : : : : : .- 1229 
40 : : ; : : . 261 
45 : ; ; : ‘ “2288 
50 : ; ; ‘ : Ra a 
55 : ; ; : : Raney eS) 


Remo ane kay a) 829 


206 ADDITION OF HYDROGEN TO ACETYLENIC ACIDS 


The above figures show that addition takes place much more 
readily when the full two equivalents of alkali have been added _ 
than to a solution of the potassium hydrogen salt. 

The solution was treated as before as far as evaporating it 
down to a small bulk. On acidifying a small quantity of pre- 
cipitate was thrown down. This precipitate gave no definite 
melting point, but showed signs of decomposition above 240° C. 
and was probably fumaric acid. (The solubility of fumaric acid 
in water is very low.) The solution was then extracted twice with 
ether, the ethereal solution dried and the ether allowed to evapor- 
ate off. The residue gave no melting point, but showed signs of 
decomposition between 250—270° C., and was, therefore, fumaric 
acid. It was treated with a small quantity of ether. A very 
small quantity of residue was obtained from this ethereal 
extraction which on testing was found to be fumaric acid. Hence 
the product on extracting the original solution twice with ether 
was fumaric acid, no acetylene dicarboxylic acid being found. 
The total quantity of fumaric acid obtained was about 0-24 
grams. 

The original solution was further extracted ten times with 
ether. The residue obtained after allowing the ether to evaporate 
off was treated with a small quantity of ether. From this ethereal 
extract a minute quantity of residue was obtained which was 
found to be fumaric acid on testing. The residue, after treatment 
with ether and removing the trace of fumaric acid, melted at 
184-185° C., and was, therefore, succinic acid. ‘This was con- 
firmed by a ‘mixed melt.’ The weight of succinic acid was 
about 0-4 gram. 

The addition of one molecule of hydrogen to a solution of 
acetylenedicarboxylic acid to which two equivalents of alkali 
had been added thus resulted in a mixture of fumaric and succinic 
acids, no unchanged acetylenedicarboxylic acid beingfound. The 
total weight of the products, 0-64 grams, from 1:56 grams of 
acetylenedicarboxylic acid shows that some of the acetylene- 
dicarboxylic acid must have been decomposed. This would 
explain why a mixture of only fumaric and succinic acids was 
obtained although only one molecule of hydrogen had been added. 
Addition of hydrogen to acetylenedicarboxylic acid seems to take 
place more readily in this case than to a solution of the potassium 
hydrogen salt. 


ADDITION OF HYDROGEN TO ACETYLENIC ACIDS 207 


CONCLUSION 


Addition of molecular hydrogen to tetrolic acid gives chiefly 
allocrotonic acid with only a small proportion of ordinary crotonic 
acid. It has been definitely established that allocrotonic acid is 
the cis isomer, 7.€. : 


‘Therefore the addition of hydrogen to tetrolic acid is mainly 
a cis addition process. 

With acetylenedicarboxylic acid, however, the product is 
fumaric acid, no trace of maleic acid having been obtained in 
any of the experiments. Addition of hydrogen to acetylene- 
dicarboxylic acid is thus a trans addition process. It is interest- 
ing to note that this result agrees with a suggestion put forward 
by Michael (J.A.C.S., 1918, 40, 713). He considers the production 
of allocinnamic acid from phenylpropiolic acid to be due to the low 
energy content in the system so that the reaction proceeds by cis 


addition. He suggests, however, that the addition of molecular 


hydrogen to acetylenedicarboxylic acid would probably result in 
the formation of fumaric acid owing to its greater free energy 
content. 
DAVID EMRYS WILLIAMS. 
THOMAS CAMPBELL JAMES. 


4A. THE ACTION OF REDUCING AGENTS ON 
SOME POLYNITRODIPHENYLAMINES 


Mono- and di-nitrodiphenylamines yield corresponding amino- 
derivatives on treatment with reducing agents, but in the case of 
the higher nitro-derivatives, condensation products of complex 
constitution are frequently produced. In the present work an 
attempt has been made to carry out the reduction of picryl- 
aniline (2.4.6-trinitro-diphenylamine) and several of its derivatives, 
in gradual stages. 

The prolonged action of alcoholic ammonium sulphide on 
picryl-aniline has been found to yield 1.3-dinitro-9.10-dihydro- 
phenazine, a substance which has previously been obtained by 
Kehrmann and Havas (Ber., 1913, 46, 347) by the nitration 
of phenazine and subsequent reduction of the dinitrophenazine 
with alcoholic ammonium sulphide. This product has also been 
obtained synthetically (Leeman and Grandmougin, Ber., 1908, 
41, 1309; Kehrmann and Messinger, zbid., 1893, 26, 2373) from 
2.4.6-trinitro-2!-amino-diphenylamine, by the elimination of 
nitrous acid, thus : 


NO, 
NH 
aS 
NH, O.N\/NO, Ne: 


By treatment of picrylaniline with alcoholic ammonium 
sulphide for a limited period an intermediate product, 2.4-dinitro- 
6-amino-diphenylamine, has been obtained. 

In a similar manner the reduction of picryl-p-toluidine with 
alcoholic ammonium sulphide has been shown to yield the 
corresponding phenazine derivative, the constitution of which 
has been confirmed by synthesis from picryl-tolylene-diamine. 
Picryl-m-toluidine also yields a phenazine derivative of similar 
type. 

AC VOR, 209 P 


210 POLYNITRODIPHENYLAMINES 


Experiments have also been conducted with other picrylamines 
and with dipicrylamines, but the products obtained are in general 
dark insoluble powders, the composition of which have not yet 
been elucidated. The action of other reducing agents such as 
sodium sulphide, stannous chloride and sodium sulphite has also 
been investigated, but the experiments have not yielded any 
recognisable derivatives. 


EXPERIMENTAL. 
1. Tor REDUCTION OF PICRYLANILINE 


(a) With alcoholic ammonium sulphide 


Five grams of picrylaniline were dissolved in a mixture of 
20 c.c. of ammonium hydroxide (-880) and 40 c.c. of alcohol and 
the deep red solution warmed while a current of sulphuretted 
hydrogen was passed through. The supply of ammonia and of 
alcohol was replenished when necessary during the reaction. 
After several hours a dark yellow precipitate was formed and 
this, after continuing the current of gas for a further half-hour, 
was filtered off and dried. On recrystallismg from nitrobenzene 
it was obtained as yellow needles and from ethyl benzoate as 
yellow plates. The crystals did not melt below 340° but decom- 
posed at a higher temperature. The yield was 3 grams. 


0-1018 gave 18-0 c.c. moist nitrogen at 20° and 761 mm. ; N =20-49 
C,,H,O,N, requires N = 20-59 per cent. 

1.3-Dinitro-9.10-dihydrophenazine dissolves readily in hot 
nitrobenzene and is sparingly soluble in bromobenzene and 
ethyl benzoate, but is very sparingly soluble in alcohol, acetone, © 
chloroform and most other organic solvents, and also in alkali. 

On warming with acetic anhydride and sodium acetate for 
some time it yielded a di-acetyl derivative which crystallised from 
acetic acid or acetone as light yellow prisms with melting point 
above 320°. 


0-1120 gave 14-80 c.c. moist nitrogen at 18° and 766 mm. ; N=15-58 
C,,H,,.0,N, requires N = 15-70 per cent. 

The di-benzoyl derivative was obtained similarly and crystal- 
lised from acetone as pale yellow plates, melting with decom- 
position at 230°. 

0-:1011 gave 10-00 c.c. moist nitrogen at 20° and 765 mm. ; N=11°55 
C.6H1.0,-N. requires N = 11-67 per cent. 


POLYNITRODIPHENYLAMINES 211 


The above experiment was repeated using the same quantities 
of material, but in this case the reduction was stopped before the 
appearance of a precipitate. On the addition of water a yellow 
substance separated which on crystallisation from alcohol was 
obtained as yellow leaflets, melting at 176°. By analysis it was 
shown to be 2.4-dinitro-6-aminodiphenylamine. 


0-1020 gave 17-85 c.c. moist nitrogen at 19° and 766 mm. ; N =20°53 
C,.H,O.N, requires N = 20-44 per cent. 
The substance is only slightly soluble in petroleum ether, but 
dissolves readily in most other organic solvents. 


(6) With stannous chloride 


By means of this reagent Kehrmann and Punti (Ber., 1911, 
44, 2618) have been able to reduce picryl-a-naphthylamine 
and picryl-f-naphthylamine to the corresponding diamino- 
naphthophenazines. Picrylaniline under similar treatment yields 
a black powder which is insoluble in organic solvents, but dissolves 
in concentrated sulphuric acid to a violet coloured solution. 

Reduction with sodium sulphide yields a product of complex 
nature, while the action of sodium sulphite effects reduction and 
sulphonation and probably condensation as well. 


2. THE REDUCTION OF PICRYL-p-TOLUIDINE 


The reduction of this substance with alcoholic ammonium 
sulphide was carried out’in the manner previously described. A 
bulky yellow precipitate was obtained which was crystallised 
from: ethyl benzoate and obtained as bright yellow needles, 
which did not melt below 340°. 

0-1013 gave 17-0 c.c. moist nitrogen at 18° and 766 mm. ; N =19-76 
C,;H,,O.N, requires N = 19-58 per cent. 

This indicated that the substance was probably 1-3 dinitro-6- 
methyl-9-10-dihydrophenazine and this expectation was con- 
firmed by the following synthesis. 

Picryl-tolylene diamine was prepared by the general method 
previously described by one of us (Trans. 1920, 117, 1273), by con- 
densing trinitrophenylmethylnitramine (tetryl) with 3.4-diamino- 


toluene in alcoholic solution. The product on crystallising from 


acetone consisted of bright yellow plates, which possessed no 
definite melting point, but exploded on heating to about 330°. 


212 POLYNITRODIPHENYLAMINES 


0-1065 gave 19-00 c.c. moist nitrogen at 17° and 769 mm. ; N=21-14 
C,;H,,0,N; requires N = 21-02 per cent. 

Picryl-tolylene diamine, C,H.(NO,);.NH.C,H,(NH,)(CHs), 
obtained as above, is slightly soluble in alcohol and ether and 
readily soluble in acetic acid and acetone. By careful heating it 
gives off nitrous fumes and undergoes condensation to a phenazine 
derivative. 

One gram of the substance was heated gradually until decom- 
position commenced and the temperature thereafter kept constant 
until no further evolution of nitrous fumes was observed. The 
product was washed with hot acetone and the residue crystallised 
from nitrobenzene. The product consisted of bright yellow 
needles, identical with the reduction product described above. 
The condensation may be represented as follows: 


NO, 


NO, 
/NH 
NO, JNO, NH. /CH; ar oe 
NH 


3. THE REDUCTION oF PICRYL-m-TOLUIDINE 


This substance, treated with alcoholic ammonium sulphide in 
the manner previously described, produced a yellow powder 
which is very sparingly soluble in alcohol, acetic acid and acetone, 
but which separates from nitrobenzene or tetrachlorethane as a 
fine powder. It possesses no definite melting point, but decom- 
poses on heating to high temperatures. Analysis indicates that 
it is a phenazine derivative of the same type as those previously 
described, but whether it is 1.3-dinitro-9.10-dihydro-5-methyl- 
phenazine or 1.3-dinitro-9.10-dihydro-7- Tmet hy phen e has not 
yet been determined. 

The action of the same reducing agent on picryl-p-phenylene 
diamine and on dipicrylamine has been found to yield dark 
coloured products which have not yet been characterised. 


NICHOLAS MICHAEL CULLINANE. 
THOMAS CAMPBELL JAMES. 


5. SOME REACTIONS OF TETRANITROANILINE 


THe work of Sudborough and his collaborators, carried out 
in these laboratories, as well as that of other chemists, has shown 
that polynitro-compounds in general form a very varied series of 
additive compounds with many types of organic substances, and 
particularly with hydrocarbons, phenols and amines. Trinitro- 
benzene, for example, forms highly coloured additive compounds 
(Sudborough and Picton, Trans. 1906, 89, 583 ; Sudborough and 
Beard, abid., 1910, 97, 773; 1911, 99, 209), which, as a rule, 
undergo decomposition into their components on recrystallisation 
from dilute solutions.. In a previous paper (James, Jones and 
Lewis, T'rans., 1920, 11'7, 1273) it has been shown that trinitro- 
phenylmethylnitramine (tetryl) forms compounds of similar type; 
particularly with primary amines, which products undergo 
condensation on warming in solution to form diphenylamine 
derivatives. In the present paper a brief preliminary account is 
given of similar work carried out with tetranitroaniline. 

Tetranitroaniline was prepared by Flurscheim and Simon 
(Proc. Chem. Soc., 1910, 81), who describe it as yellow crystals, 
melting at 212°. These authors state that the meta-nitro-group 
is instantaneously removed by aqueous sodium acetate and other 
reagents in aqueous acetone solution, at ordinary temperatures, 
the product being trinitroaminophenol. Aqueous ammonia acts 
on the substance producing trinitrometaphenylenediamine. 

Further work on the substance has been carried out by Van 
Duin and Van Lennep (Rec. d. Trav. Chim. d. Pays-Bas, 1920, 39, 
146), who have confirmed the above-mentioned results and also 
show that the meta-nitro-group is replaced by alkoxyl on treat- 
ment with methyl and ethyl alcohols. 

In the present paper the capacity of tetranitroaniline to form 
additive compounds has been investigated. The method employed 


was to mix equivalent quantities of the nitro-compound and the 


second substance in benzene or dry acetone solution, and allow 
to erystallise by slow evaporation. 
213 


214 SOME REACTIONS OF TETRANITROANILINE 


With benzene, naphthalene, and other hydrocarbons, there 
was no change of colour on mixing the solutions and no additive 
compound was obtained in any case. On evaporation the 
tetranitroaniline was recovered unchanged. 

With phenols a slight change of colour was generally aieerred. 
Thus, with p-cresol a red solution was obtained, but on evaporation 
the nitro-compound was recovered unchanged. With £-naphthol 
only was a definite additive product formed. In this case a 
deep ruby red solution was obtained which in time deposited deep 
red crystals of an additive compound, which was again decom- 
posed on recrystallisation. 

With primary amines there is an initial deepening of colour 
of the solution, but condensation occurs very rapidly to form a 
diphenylamine derivative. In no case has a crystalline additive 
product been isolated. 


EXPERIMENTAL. 
C,H(NO.),.NH,.,C,,H,0OH. 


Tetranitroaniline-f-naphthol. Equivalent amounts of tetra-— 


nitroaniline and f-naphthol were dissolved in the minimum 
quantities of benzene and mixed. The solution developed a 
ruby red colour, and on standing deposited deep red needles. 
On heating, these began to decompose at 110° and finally melted 
at 140°. On washing with cold alcohol the red crystals im- 
mediately decomposed, regenerating tetranitroaniline. 


Analysis; Found N = 17-10; .C,,Hii,0,N; requires N = 16-80 


per cent. 
The substance does not undergo condensation on careful 
heating, but decomposes into its components. 
2.4.6-Trinitroaminoanisol. The formation of this compound 
by treatment of tetranitroaniline with methyl alcohol (Van Duin 
and Van Lennep, loc. cit.) has been confirmed. It consists of 
pale yellow crystals which on exposure to light become orange 
coloured, without change. of weight. The possibility of the 
existence of the substance in two isomeric forms, as is the case 
with the trinitrodiphenylamines, is being investigated. 
2.4.6-Trinitroamino-3-amyl ether. This substance has been 
obtained by warming tetranitroaniline with N amyl alcohol and 
consists of yellow crystals, melting at 168°. 
Analysis ; Found N = 17-90; C,,H,,0,N, requires N = 17-83 
per cent. 


wae Pre wa => we we ny) ee ue . : 
hb a! ‘ = ¥ rs, ae" & sfc? +e, ~~ ey ? & CD aly 5 . e q 2 
— ee lai tliat taal ce eed «ae ae te ae rye 
a pM te Se) ‘sami _—_ : jas : 


Sa 


- ’ = 
oe are 


_—— 


ee 


- 


SOME REACTIONS OF TETRANITROANILINE 215 


The ethers described above dissolve readily in dilute 
caustic soda, yielding a solution which possesses a temporary 
red colour. On acidifying this solution triaminophenol is 
precipitated. - 

2.4.6-Trinitrophenylenediamine is produced when tetranitro- 
aniline is warmed with aqueous ammonia. If the reaction is 
carried out in acetone solution a deep red solution results, 
probably owing to ammonium salt formation. 

5-Amino-2.4.6-trinitrophenylaniline. 


NH, 


NO.( \NO, 
NH-C.H, 


NO, 


On mixing equivalent quantities of tetranitroaniline and 
aniline, in acetone solution, orange yellow crystals of this com- 
pound are rapidly deposited. After recrystallisation from acetone 
they have a melting point of 188°. 

Analysis; Found N = 21-80; C,,.H,O,N; requires N = 21-90 
per cent. 

In a similar manner the following amino derivatives have 
been prepared : 


5-Amino-2.4.6-trinitrophenyl-o-toluidine. 
NH, 


NO, ou 
NH-C,H,CH,(2) 


NO, 
This consists of lustrous dark red crystals, melting at 200°. 
5-Amino-2.4.6-trinitrophenyl-m-toluidine. 
Recrystallised from glacial acetic acid, this substance is 
obtained as brick-red crystals, melting at 181°. 
5-Amino-2.4.6-trinitrophenyl-p-toluidine. 


NH, 


NO.( \NO, 
NH-C,H,CH,(4) 


NO, 


216 SOME REACTIONS OF TETRANITROANILINE 


This is obtained as orange-coloured crystals, melting at 220°. 

5-Amino-2.4.6-trinitrophenyl-6-naphthylamine. 

This preparation was conducted in acetone solution and bright 
yellow crystals were obtained, which, on heating to 70°, turned 
red. The crystals were suspected to contain acetone of crystal- 
lisation and were found, on heating in an oven at 70°, to lose 
13-54 per cent. of their weight, this being the theoretical amount 
for one molecular proportion of acetone. 

Analysis ; N = 16-90; C,,H,,0,N; + C;H,O requires N = 16-40 
per cent. 

The compound free from acetone was obtained by preparation 
in benzene solution and by crystallising the acetone product, 
after heating to 70°, from benzene. It consists of bright red 
crystals, melting at 212°. | 
Analysis ; N = 19°43; C,,H,,0,N; requires N = 19-00 per cent. 

In the case of each of the products obtained from primary 
arylamines as above, attempts were made by repeated crystallisa- 
tion under varying conditions to obtain chromoisomeric forms, 
such as are common among the picrylamines. In no case, 
however, was more than one form obtained. 


CECIL WHITFIELD DAVIES. 
THOMAS CAMPBELL JAMES. 


I 
| 
| 


eet EF TR ERLE EE LE OE 


2 


1. THE ORIGIN OF THE SEED-PLANTS 
(SPERMOPHYTA) 


THE name Seed-plants or Spermophyta is used to cover the 
Phanerogams in the widest sense, including Gymnosperms 
(e.g. Conifers and Cycads) as well as the true Flowering Plants or 
Angiosperms. Not all Phanerogams bear flowers, but all produce 
seeds. 

In contradistinction to the Seed-plants we have the Spore- 
plants or Cryptogams (e.g. Ferns, Mosses, Seaweeds and Fungi). 
In all these groups the reproductive bodies are minute and 
simple, usually consisting of a single cell, while the Spermophyta 
are reproduced (apart from vegetative propagation) by complex 
bodies, often of considerable size, composed of various tissues, 
and usually containing an embryo. That there is a certain 
relation between these two great divisions of the vegetable 
kingdom has been recognised since the time of Hofmeister (the 
middle of the nineteenth century). 

Taking one of the simpler representatives of the higher 
Spore-plants, such as a Fern, we find that all the spores are of one 
kind ; on germination each spore gives rise to an independent 
plantlet, the prothallus, on which the sexual organs are borne. 
Fertilisation is effected by the active male cells or spermatozoids, 
Swimming in water, and the egg at once develops into an embryo 
and forms a new Fern. 

In the more advanced Vascular Spore-plants, such as the 
Water-ferns or Selaginella, the sexual differentiation begins 
earlier, and the spores are of two kinds, microspores and mega- 
spores. ‘The former have little more to do than to produce the 
spermatozoids ; the large spores, on the other hand, give rise to a 
fairly massive prothallus, bearing the female organs, and serving 
as a store-house of food for the developing embryo. ‘This is to 
some extent an approach to the conditions in the Seed-plants, 
and especially in the Gymnosperms. There the great distinction 
is that, while the prothallus is comparable to that of a hetero- 

PANS ae 


220 THE ORIGIN OF THE SEED-PLANTS 


sporous Cryptogam, the megaspore (embryo-sac) remains per- 
manently enclosed in the sporangium, which is itself enveloped 
in a highly organised integument, becoming the seed-coat or 
testa. Pollination and (in most cases) fertilisation take place on 
the parent plant, and the seed (testa, sporangium and prothallus) 
is, as a rule, only shed when the embryo has attained a certain 
development. It is unnecessary here to refer to the seed char- 
acters of the Angiosperms, which are altogether more advanced 
and more remote from the Cryptogamic phase. 

It has been generally assumed, since Hofmeister’s discoveries, 
that the Seed-plants were derived from heterosporous Vascular 
Cryptogams, though the particular group to which they traced 
their origin has been a subject of controversy. Although the 
homologies of the reproductive organs in Seed-plants and the 
higher Spore-plants can, to a considerable extent, be traced, 
there is nowhere any indication of a transition from one to the 
other, beyond the fact that in the Cycads and the Maidenhair 
trees, fertilisation is still effected by motile spermatozoids, as in 
the Cryptogams. Yet they produce very highly developed seeds. 

It thus came to be one of the chief problems of Paleobotany 
to seek, among the plants of past ages, some trace of a connection 
between the Spore-plants and the Seed-plants, so widely separated 
in the living Flora. Of late years the tendency has been to find 
such a connection between a certain group of Palaeozoic Seed- 
plants and the Ferns. We will shortly explain how the present 
position was reached. 

Up to the year 1903 the current enumerations of Carboniferous 
land-plants showed that almost exactly half of the known species 
of that age were referred to the Ferns. The estimate was based 
almost wholly on the evidence of the fronds, which were so entirely 
fern-like that Sir Joseph Hooker, in 1848, spoke of Pecopteris as 
“the Fossil representative, if not congener, of the modern Pteris,’ 


and added, ‘It is not improbable that there are other genera of | 


living ferns fossilised in the shales of the coal formation.’ 4 
It is true that as early as 1883, the Austrian palzobotanist 
Stur stated his conviction that a large number of such fronds, 
including Neuropteris, Alethopteris and other important genera, 
having never been found with Fern-fructifications, could not have 
1 J. D. Hooker, ‘On the Vegetation of the Carboniferous Period as 


compared with that of the present day,’ Memoirs of the Geological Survey 
of Great Britain, Vol. II, Part II, p. 401, 1848. 


THE ORIGIN OF THE SEED-PLANTS 221 


been Ferns.t This negative evidence, however, carried little 
weight with paleobotanists generally. 

From another side, however, proof was soon forthcoming 
that some of the apparent Ferns of the Carboniferous were very 
different from any known plants of that affinity. Anatomical 
investigation, In which Williamson took the lead, showed that in 
his Lyginodendron (now Lyginopteris) and Heterangiuwm, genera 
with the foliage of Sphenopteris, the structure was in certain 
respects like that of a Cycad rather than a Fern, though points of 
analogy with the latter group were also observed. Williamson, 
in 1887, speaking of these plants, suggested that ‘ Possibly they 
are the generalised ancestors of both Ferns and Cycads.’ 

Similar combinations of characters were found in other 
groups ; thus Medullosa, originally described as an extinct genus 
of Cycads, was shown by the independent investigations of 
Weber and Renault to have borne the Fern-like fronds of 
Neuropteris and Alethopteris. Theanatomy of Medullosa presents, 
in fact, an apparent union of Cycadean and Filicinean features, 
though on quite distinct lines from those of Lyginopteris or 
Heterangium. Another totally different genus, Protopitys, was 
placed by Solms-Laubach in 1893 among plants which are 
intermediate in their characters between Filicineze and Gymno- 
sperms. 

Potonié in 1897 established the eroup Cycadofilices to include 
such intermediate or indeterminate forms, and his proposal was 
widely adopted. So far, however, there was no satisfactory 
evidence as to the reproductive organs of any of the Cycadofilices, 
and it remained therefore doubtful whether they really repre- 
sented a distinct class, or only a peculiar race of Ferns. 

Then, in 1903, came the discovery of the seed of Lyginopteris 
oldhamia, identified by F. W. Oliver by means of the glands on 
the cupule of the seed Lagenostoma Lomaxi, agreeing exactly in 
structure with those long known on the vegetative parts of the 
Lyginopteris. The identification was confirmed by other points 
of agreement, and by analogous cases observed in other forms. 
Thus the fact was established that one member, at least, of the 
Cycadofilices was a seed-bearing plant. The seed itself proved 
to be of a complex structure, most nearly comparable to the 
seeds of the Cycadacee. The name Pteridosperms was then 


1D. Stur, ‘Zur Morphologie und Systematik der Culm und Carbon- 
farne,’ Stizungsberichte Akad. Wiss. Wien. Bd. LX XXVIII, p. 638, 1883. 


222 THE ORIGIN OF THE SEED-PLANTS © 


proposed for those Cycadofilices in which there was evidence of 
the seed-habit. 

Further examples of ‘Seed-Ferns’ were soon brought to 
light. In 1904 Dr. Kidston discovered large seeds, of the size 
of a Hazel-nut, borne on the fronds of Neuropteris heterophylla ; 
here the evidence was direct, though the structure was not 
preserved. In the same year Dr. David White showed that his 
Aneimites (Adiantites) fertilis, from the Lower Pottsville beds of 
West Virginia (correlated with our Millstone Grit), was a seed- 
bearing plant. The small flattened seeds are borne directly on 
the Maidenhair-like fronds. Then, a year later, Grand ‘Eury 
discovered the fronds of Pecopterzs Pluckeneti, previously an 
unquestioned Fern, covered with hundreds of winged seeds, 
resembling those of the Gymnospermous trees known as 
Cordaiteex. 

Other discoveries followed, and in numerous cases, besides 
those clearly demonstrated, there was reason to suspect that 
so-called Paleozoic Ferns were in reality members of the 
Spermophyta. In fact the conclusion was soon reached that an 
actual majority of the ‘Carboniferous Ferns’ were not Ferns, 
but Pteridosperms. + 

So far there is nothing to criticise. For a time there may 
have been a tendency to make too little of the true Ferns of the 
Carboniferous period, but this was only a temporary aberration, 
and the general result as to the importance of the ‘ Seed-Ferns ’ 
remains unshaken. | 

A further conclusion, however, was drawn by some of those 
who were interested in these discoveries. The idea got abroad 
that the Pteridosperms were ‘ Ferns which had become Spermo- 
phytes,’ the popular name ‘ Seed-Ferns’ thus being taken in a 
literal sense. The present writer is one of those responsible for 
this interpretation of the facts. The Fern phylum was said to 
have been the source from which the great majority, if not the 
whole of the Seed-plants were derived. This generalisation was 
of course dependent on the assumption that the Pteridosperms 
themselves, the most primitive known Seed-plants, were descended 
from the Ferns. 

1 The evidence is brought together in Seward’s Fossil Plants, Vol. III, 
1917, chaps. xxix-xxxi, and in the present writer’s Studies in Fossil 
Botany, Vol. II, 2nd edition, 1909, chaps. x. and xi. The latter account 


will shortly be brought up to date in a third edition. 
2 Studies in Fossil Botany, Vol. I1, 2nd edition, p. 638. 


THE ORIGIN OF THE SEED-PLANTS 223 


Although it was pointed out that the stock from which the 
*Seed-Ferns ’ were derived was still unknown, and might well 
have differed widely from any group of Ferns with which we were 
familiar,! yet the general idea of a Fern-ancestry was favoured. 

Zeiller, with excellent judgment, stated the position more 
cautiously. After pointing out how tempting is the idea of 
deriving the Cycads, through the Pteridosperms, from the Ferns, 
he showed that we could not regard such a filiation as established, 
firstly because the necessary link of heterosporous Ferns was 
missing, and secondly because in the Lower Carboniferous and 
Devonian the Pteridosperms were, as he thought, largely pre- 
ponderant over the Ferns. He added that we could only infer 
a probable community of origin.” 

Subsequently Zeiller seems to have been more impressed by 
the Fern-affinities of the early Seed-plants, for he said, in 1907, 
that “it is impossible not to be struck by the close relations (liens) 
which exist between these ‘‘ Seed-Ferns ’”’ and the true cryptogamic 
Ferns, not only from the point of view of their external appearance, 
but from the point of view of their anatomical structure and even 


~ of the constitution of their organs of fructification.’* At that 


time he even suggested that “heterosporous Ferns might have 
existed at a remote epoch, and have given rise, by way of inverse 
modifications, on the one hand to Pteridosperms, on the other 
to isosporous Ferns.’ 4 

Whatever we may think of this suggestion, it shows that 
Zeiller was at that time prepared to derive the “Seed-Ferns ’ from 
an ancestry actually superior to the typical Cryptogamic Ferns. 

Dr. Kidston, in 1906, stated the position in words which appear 
periectly just, and anticipate the conclusion at which the present 
writer hasarrived. Hesaid®: ‘The Cycadofilices [Pteridosperms | 
are undoubtedly the oldest group of “‘ Fern-like ’’ plants of which 
we have fossil evidence. ... It seems therefore to be highly 
improbable that the Cycadofilices could have descended from 


1 Studies in Fossil Botany, Vol. Ti, 2nd edition, p. 645. 

2 Zeiller, ‘ Une nouvelle Classe de Gymnospermes ; Les Ptéridospermes, 
Revue Générale des Sciences, Aug. 30, 1905, p. 726. 

8 Zeiller, ‘Les Végétaux Fossiles et leurs Enchainements,’ Revue du 
Mois, Feb. 10, 1907, p. 18. 

erZelerswive, po. 20: 

. 5 R. Kidston, ‘On the Microsporangia of the Pteridospermez, with 

remarks on their relationship to existing groups,’ Phil. Trans. Royal 
Society, B, Vol. CXCVIII, 1906, p. 441. 


224 THE ORIGIN OF THE SEED-PLANTS 


plants to which the name of “ Fern,” as understood in recent 
botany, can be applied. What the progenitors of the Cycadofilices 
were for the present remains unknown.’ . 

In spite of this judicious warning, the belief that Pteridosperms 
were descended from Ferns has undoubtedly been prevalent 
since their discovery. On a review of the evidence it appears 
that this view is unjustified. The question is of fundamental 
importance, for the ‘Seed-Ferns,’ though very far from being 
really ‘primitive,’ are yet the most primitive of the known 
Spermophyta, as shown especially by their reproductive organs 
being borne on fronds, little if at all altered from the vegetative 
foliage. Thus the question of their origin may involve that of 
the origin of the Seed-plants generally. 

It is easy to see how the current idea arose. We used to 
believe that half the Carboniferous plants were Ferns. Then it 
turned out that many or most of these “ Ferns’ bore seeds. Yet 
we could not get it out of our heads that they were Ferns after all 
—they were so like them. We should have remembered ‘ That 
every like is not the same!’ 

The fact is, paradoxical as it may sound, that the Pterido- 
sperms are too much like Ferns to be related to them! A 
resemblance so close as to have deceived a great botanist like 
Sir Joseph Hooker, if it indicated relationship at all, must surely 
‘have implied a near relationship. Yet a near relationship is 
out of the question, for the Pteridosperms bore highly organised 
seeds, on a level with those of living Cycads, while the Ferns 
are ordinary Cryptogams, which only attain even to hetero- 
spory in a couple of specialised recent families, which certainly 
have nothing to do with Seed-plants. 

There is not the most distant likeness between the seed of any 
known Pteridosperm, and the sporangium of a Fern. When we 
fancied that the two groups were related, we were bound to 
derive the one organ from the other, and the puzzle was attacked. 
with much ingenuity. But all the attempts made to prove that 
the seed was once a Fern-sporangium depended on purely 
gratuitous hypotheses, involving assumed intermediate stages 
which may never have had any existence except in the imagina- 
tion of the speculators. We know no more of the origin of the 
seed than what recent plants (such as Cycads) might already 
have told us. 

It is very different where we really have evidence that a sort 


THE ORIGIN OF THE SEED-PLANTS 225 


of seed was developed in an otherwise Cryptogamic phylum. 
Among the Carboniferous Lycopods there are two genera, 
Lepidocarpon and Miadesmia, which are known to have formed 
seed-like organs. An integument grew up around the mega- 
Sporangium, in which only a single megaspore (embryo-sac) 
came to maturity. Here, however, the Lycopod characters are 
periectly evident, both in the sporangial and vegetative organs. 
These plants are truly Cryptogams which had become (after a 
fashion) Seed-plants, but there is not the least probability that 
their imitation seeds had anything to do with the real seeds of 
the main line of Spermophyta. The ‘seed-bearing ’ Clubmosses, 
in fact, came too late upon the scene ; the old-established Seed- 
plants were already too strong for them, and it seems that after a 
comparatively short career they came to nothing. 

The characters which have appeared to support a direct 
affinity between the Pteridosperms and the Ferns are to be found 
in the male organs, the anatomy, and the habit. As regards the 
first, it is no doubt often difficult to distinguish the sporangia of 
a Carboniferous Fern from the pollen-sacs of a contemporary 
Pteridosperm. Our knowledge of the latter is, however, still very 
imperfect. Our first information came from Dr. Kidston, who, 
in 1906, identified the male fructification of Lyginopteris Oldhamia. 
He found that the pollen-sacs, in this case, are bilocular. If this 
should turn out to be general, there would be little real resemblance 
to the sporangia of a Fern. The evidence in other cases, since 
discovered, is usually in the form of impressions, showing little 
of the actual structure. 

Great stress has been laid on the Fern-like anatomy of various 
Pteridosperms. For example, the primary structure of the 
Lyginopteris stem has been compared with that of Osmunda, 
and the structure of Heterangiwm with that of Gleichenia. Here, 
however, the comparison was with recent Ferns, which cannot 
have any real affinity with Paleozoic Seed-plants. Osmundacee, 
it is true, go back to the Permian, but their early representatives 
have quite a different stem-structure from that which was 
compared with Lyginopteris. 

Medullosa is polystelic, like most recent and many Carboni- 
ferous Ferns, but the moment we begin to examine the details 
(development, course of the bundles and so on) the resemblance 
vanishes. The analogies with recent Ferns can clearly only show 
a certain parallelism of evolution, not a genetic relation. 

A.S.—VOL. IV. Q 


: ~ 


226 THE ORIGIN OF THE SEED-PLANTS 


When we compare the Pteridosperms anatomically with their 
contemporary Ferns, we find no approximation whatever between 
them. Fern-stems of the Psaronius type agree with those of 
Medullosa in being polystelic, but differ in every other respect. 
The older and simpler Primofilices, now very well known as 
regards two families, have a peculiar anatomy of their own, 
perfectly distinct from that of any Pteridosperm. 

It was an anatomical detail, discovered by Professor Weiss, 
which first suggested to the present writer that the Pteridosperms 
had no direct connection with the Ferns. Van Tieghem had 
shown that one of the differences between Vascular Cryptogams 
and Phanerogams is to be found in the orientation of the plate 
of primary wood in diarch lateral rootlets. In the Vascular 
Cryptogams the plate is at right angles to the axis of the main 
root; in Phanerogams it is parallel to it. Professor Weiss 
discovered that in Lyginopteris the latter is the case. It is a 
small point, but a definite one, and shows that in this respect 
the Pteridosperm Lyginopteris was a Phanerogam, pure and 
simple. 

As regards the external characters, all botanists know that 
habit is illusory. Yet, when the likeness is very close, it may 
impress the mind, as it has certainly done in the case we are 
considering. It is still often impossible to say, from the fronds 
alone, whether a given Carboniferous plant was a ‘ Seed-Fern ’ 
or a true Fern. We are able, however, to demonstrate that in 
such cases the habit is no guide to affinities. One of the Ferns 
which Hooker cited as particularly close to the modern Bracken 
was an Alethopteris (then called Pecopteris heterophylla). The 
anatomy of Alethopteris is now well known, and proves to be 
totally different from that of any Fern-frond and very similar 
to the leat-structure of a Cycad. Here, then, the habit was 
clearly deceptive—the resemblance was merely an external one, 
not necessarily any more significant than the familiar likeness — 
between a succulent Hwphorbia and a Cactus, or between a 
Frogbit and a Waterlily. The special conditions under which 
the Carboniferous vegetation had to grow may well explain a 
similarity of habit in quite diverse groups. 

An important subject of inquiry is suggested by the evidence 
as to the relative antiquity of Ferns and Seed-plants. There 


1 F. E. Weiss, ‘The Root-apex and Young Root of Lyginodendron,? 
Manchester Memoirs, Vol. LVII, No. 16, 1913. 


THE ORIGIN OF THE SEED-PLANTS 227 


seems now to be no proof of the existence of Ferns, in the ordinary 
sense, before the Upper Devonian. In the earlier Devonian 
floras, the only suggestion of Fern-fronds is in the form of a 
naked, branched rachis, with no lamina, a structure perhaps little 
removed from the undifferentiated thallus of the simplest land- 
plants. 

On the other hand, the Gymnosperms appear to have been 
well developed in early times. The Upper Devonian genus 
Callixylon had a_ beautifully-organised wood, even rivalling 
that of the highest Conifers of the present day. This was not a 
Pteridosperm, but already something more advanced. From the 
Middle Devonian we have Hugh Miller’s famous, but somewhat 
neglected ‘Coniferous Tree’ (now Paleopitys Milleri), which, 
whatever it may have been, shows the structure of a well-developed 
Gymnosperm. If we may judge by anatomical characters, the 
Seed-plants seem to have been in advance of the Spore-plants 
from about the time of the earliest known Land Flora. 

The inference from all the facts at present available appears 
to be that the Seed-plants, of which the Pteridosperms are 
among the earlier representatives, constitute an independent 
phylum, of equal antiquity with any of the recognised lines of 
Vascular Cryptogams. Some of the Seed-plants (not necessarily 
all, for there may have been distinct races within the main phy- 
lum) passed through a Fern-like phase, but we have no reason 
to believe that they were ever Ferns. What the origin of the 
Spermophyta may have been is still unknown, but they must have 
sprung from some very early race, at least as ancient, and perhaps 
as simple, as the Psilophytales of Kidston and Lang. That such 
a hypothetical race may have been the common source of the 
Ferns also is not impossible, though the Fern-like features of the 
Pteridosperms are no doubt due, for the most part, to parallel 
development, rather than to common descent. 

The question must suggest itself: if the Seed-plants have 
always been distinct from any known line of Vascular Cryptogams, 
how did the seed arise ? Were there heterosporous forms among 
the ancient and unknown race from which we must suppose 
the Spermophyta to have been derived? Does the current, 
Hofmeisterian, theory of the origin of the seed represent what 
really took place, or are the accepted homologies merely analogies ? 
These are speculative questions, on which it would be vain to 
enter. Probably the great morphological conclusions of the last 


228 THE ORIGIN OF THE SEED-PLANTS 


century may continue to hold good, but the recognition of the | 


Seed-plants as an independent phylum, which has run its own 
course from early Devonian times onwards, must some day 
demand a reconsideration of all questions concerning Phanero- 


gamic and Cryptogamic relations. 
DoE Sco EL: 


i The writer made a preliminary statement of his present views before 
Section K of the British Association, in 1919, and an abstract is pub- 
lished in the Report for that year. See also his Presidential Address to 
Section K, British Association, 1921. , 


2. INVESTIGATIONS INTO THE FAUNA OF THE 
SHA FLOOR OF CARDIGAN BAY 


A PRELIMINARY ACCOUNT OF WORK IN THE 
NORTHERN PORTION OF A REGION BETWEEN 
ABERYSTWYTH AND NEWQUAY KNOWN AS THE 
CU LihR 2 


INTRODUCTORY 


INVESTIGATIONS into the fauna of the sea floor have been carried 
out by naturalists since comparatively early times, but it is 
only during the last decade that methods aiming at quantitative 
precision have been employed in such work. The older naturalists 
were interested in the life of the sea from the collector’s point of 
view, contenting themselves with the description of the genera 
and species found, and their classification into the various phyla 
of the animal and plant worlds. It fell to the lot of Edward 
Forbes (1839), Wyville Thompson, and John Murray, the trium- 
virate of British pioneers, together with notable workers in 
other countries, to study marine organisms and the environment 
in which they live, on comprehensive lines, and to found the 
science of oceanography. By 1887 the study of marine organisms 
had so far advanced that it became profitable to apply quanti- 
tative methods, and such were developed by Henson and the 
Kiel planktologists in relation to the study of the population of 
small floating and drifting organisms, or ‘plankton’; their 
work was upon extensive lines in the Baltic and North Seas, 
and was followed upon intensive lines in the Irish Sea by Sir 
William Herdman. The progressive testing and improvement 
of apparatus in relation to quantitative plankton investigation 
forms an interesting chapter in the history of scientific technique. 
The investigation of the bottom living forms, however, lagged 
behind, and it was only at the beginning of the second decade 
of the twentieth century that the rough apparatus of dredge 
and trawl was supplemented by bottom sampling apparatus 
devised for quantitative work. 
229 


230 SEA-FLOOR FAUNA OF CARDIGAN BAY 


The real beginning of quantitative investigations into the 
fauna of the sea floor lies in the work of C. G. Joh. Petersen, of 
Denmark, and it is mainly on the lines laid down by him that 
the work in Cardigan Bay is being conducted, of which the 
present paper gives a preliminary account. Petersen began his 
work in the waters of the Limfjord, which connects the North 
Sea to the Baltic Sea across the north of the Danish peninsula. 
He conceived the idea, when working on the stomach content 
of fish, and other problems connected with marine fisheries, 
that a quantitative investigation into the fauna of the sea floor 
would yield results which would be of material benefit to the 
fisheries of that region. He wanted to find out the quantitative 
relationships of the fauna of the sea floor, how they varied from 
region to region, what was the amount of food which one region 
could be expected to produce in a given period, how much of 
this was utilised by the food-fish living on the bottom, what 
animals were in competition with the food-fish for this food, 
what interrelationships all these animals bore to one another, 
what was the ultimate food supply of the bottom living marine 
animals, and various other questions. In 1911, he made his first. 
report on the use of his apparatus for quantitative work, includ- 
ing a figure of what is now known as the ‘ Petersen grab’ (Report 
of the Danish Biological Station, No. XX, 1911. Published in 
Copenhagen, 19121). He further conceived the idea that when 
some of the above problems had been elucidated, it would be 
possible by various means, such as ridding the sea floor of the 
deleterious fauna and increasing the food fauna, to increase 
greatly the output of fish from a given region, and thus augment 
the fishing industry generally. Besides the above, which may be 
regarded as problems in applied science, various pure science 
problems would present themselves for elucidation, the solution 
of which should aid in the unravelling of that intricate problem, 
the general metabolism of the sea. 


THE PRESENT INVESTIGATION 


The scheme of work which we have planned for Cardigan Bay 
is as follows, the ‘ Gutter,’ lying to the south of Aberystwyth 
(see Map, Fig. 1), and to be described later, having been chosen 


1'The annual Reports of the Danish Marine Biological Station are 
essential to anyone carrying out faunistic investigations of the sea floor. 


=. hegion invesligaled 


See eA to fathoms line 


NEWQUAY 


—_3 Scale 
{MtLe 


diel A 


232 SEA-FLOOR FAUNA OF CARDIGAN BAY 


as a first region for analysis. Samples are taken by means of 
an apparatus devised by Petersen called a ‘bottom sampler,’ 
which will be described later. The ‘ bottom sampler,’ or ‘ Petersen 
grab,’ brings up a little piece of the sea bottom of known area ; 
in the case of the instrument which we use this is a tenth of a 
square metre. The samples of the fauna so obtained are analysed 
and the various genera and species contained therein noted and 
enumerated. Several samples are taken on the same day and as 
close together as possible. By this means some estimate of the 
nature and the amount of the fauna of the particular region of the 
sea floor under investigation is obtained. This is the first stage 
in the investigation. 

The stomach content of these various species is then examined 
and information thus obtained as to what constitutes their food. 

The diatoms and protozoan fauna of the sea floor are obtained 
by means of a ‘ Lucas grab,’ which brings to the surface a much 
smaller sample of the sea floor than does the Petersen grab. The 
sample is investigated and the results correlated as far as possible 
with the results of the stomach content investigations of the 
animals brought up by the Petersen grab. 

The Petersen grab,in the main, catches the smaller inverte- 
brates, some of the larger invertebrates and the fishes moving 
out of the way; it catches animals which lie partly embedded 
in the sea floor and which lead a sedentary life. The larger 
animals of the sea bottom, such as the fishes and larger 
invertebrates, are caught by means of the dredge, beam trawl, 
or shrimp trawl, which are dragged over the sea floor in the 
region under investigation. The species so obtained are 
identified, and this is followed again by a stomach content 
analysis. 

Samples of the sea bottom are also taken by the Lucas grab, 
for mechanical and organic analysis, so as to determine the 
character of the ground upon which the animals are living. 

An endeavour is then made to correlate these various observa- 
tions so as to discover what animals may be regarded as useful, 
that is to say, form food for the edible fish, and what animals 
are deleterious, that is to say, compete with the edible fish for 
the available food without being of use themselves for food or 
otherwise. Continued investigations, moreover, should reveal 
what changes take place in the nature of the fauna throughout 
the year, what changes take place in the food of the various 


/ “js 
yo 
U \. 9 


SEA-FLOOR FAUNA OF CARDIGAN BAY 233 


animals, what migrations certain of the fauna may undergo, and 
will, it is hoped, throw light upon the time and habits of breeding, 
the rate of growth, and other matters of interest concerning 
many of the forms present. 


DESCRIPTION OF APPARATUS 


The first necessity is a boat of sufficient size to allow of the 
manipulation of the gear. The Draig-y-mdr is a motor-boat 
which we have secured by the financial aid of the Ministry 
of Agriculture and 
Fisheries, and the 
generosity of the 
Honble. Samuel 
Vestey. The boat 
is thirty-seven feet 
in length and has 
an engine of 18— 
20 horse - power. 
Without a boat of 
this order it would 
not be possible to 
carry out the re- 
search discussed in 
Sthiss paper. The 
heaviest piece 
of apparatus to 
manipulate is the 
Petersen grab, but 
the boat is quite 


equal to its man- Fic. 2.—PETERSEN GRAB OR Botrom SAMPLER. 
agement. 

The Petersen Grab or Bottom Sampler (Fig. 2) is, as already 
remarked, an apparatus devised by C. G. Joh. Petersen, of 
Denmark. It is built on the plan of the great grabs which are 
used for removing earth, etc., in canal construction. It consists 
of two main pieces held together by movable clamps on their 
upper surfaces. These two pieces when closed together fit tightly 
against one another to form a kind of box. The apparatus is 
let down into the sea open, being held open by means of a cross- 
“piece, which fits into a hook arrangement and is kept in position 
by the tightness of the rope by which the apparatus is lowered. 


234 SEA-FLOOR FAUNA OF CARDIGAN BAY 


On reaching the bottom its weight carries it in to a small depth, 
varying with the hardness of the sea floor. The lowering rope 
now slackens with the consequence that the cross-piece holding 
the apparatus open falls out of its hook. On hauling 
in the rope the two pieces of the apparatus come 
together and enclose tightly a sample of the sea 
bottom, which is thus brought to the surface. The 
contents of the sampler are now emptied on to a 
sieve and the sand or mud washed out, leaving 
on the sieve the fauna of that particular sample, 
together with a certain amount of residue of dead 
shells, etc. The fauna and residue are transferred 
toa bottle and labelled, and examined at the earliest 
opportunity. | 

Lucas Grab (Fig. 3).—This is a variety of sounding 
lead. It is an apparatus consisting of a small grab 
weighted with lead, weighing 20 lb. The grab is 
Lucas Graz fitted on to the bottom of the lead and is in 
OR ge connection with a strong spring. It is let down 

into the sea open and is held open by two small cross- 

pieces inside it fitting against one another. The impact of touching 
the bottom slightly compresses the spring, which releases the two 
cross-pieces, and the grab snaps together, enclosing a 
sample of the sea bottom about the size of a tennis 
ball. This sample, which gives a much truer account 
of the sediment of the sea floor than the Petersen 
grab, is used for mechanical and organic analysis, 
as wellas for the study of the bottom living diatoms 
and protozoa. The Petersen grab allows the escape 
of much of the fine sediment through a piece of wire 
gauze which is inserted to allow of the escape of 
the surplus water. | 

Sounding Tube (Fig. 4).—This is another type of 5 eee 
sounding lead, differing from the Lucas grabinthat Leap wirx 
it has a brass tube at its lower end. This tube, on Ee 
passing into the sea floor, encloses a sample of it, which is 
then brought to the surface. It has the advantage over the 
Lucas and Petersen grabs in sampling the layers of the sediments 
of the sea floor as they lie in their natural relations. 

Naturalists’ Dredge (Fig. 5).—Consists of a rectangular iron 
frame four times as long as broad. To each end is attached 


ditlen eye MA meee 


; 


SEA-FLOOR FAUNA OF CARDIGAN BAY 235 


an arm which swings forward for attachment to the dredge 
rope. The dredge frame we use for light work is two feet in 


length and six inches in breadth, and carries a bag two feet 
deep with a mesh of four inch perimeter. For heavier work a 


dredge of twice this size is 
used. In the latter the bag 
has a two inch perimeter. 
Beam Trauwl (Fig. 6).— 
Consists of a wooden 
beam, which in our net is 
twenty-eight feet in length. 
attached at either end to 
the upper, curved portion 
of a stirrup-shaped iron. 
The straight side of each of 
the irons runs on the sea 
bottom, the foot-rope, hav- 
ing a spread of fifty-four 
feet, drags along, curving 
backward, and the beam is 
held about three feet off the 
bottom. The mouth of the 
net is thus formed and is 
twenty-eight feet long and 
about three feet broad. To 
the beam and foot-rope is 
attached a conical bag, fifty 
feet in depth, with a mesh 
of sixinch perimeter. This 
is one of the characteristic 
nets used by fishermen. 
Shrimp Trawl. — Of 


Fic. 6.—BEramM TRAWL. 


essentially the same form as the beam trawl, but the mesh is 


much smaller, being two inches in perimeter. This is more useful 
generally for our purpose than the beam trawl, but it is of interest 


236 SEA-FLOOR FAUNA OF CARDIGAN BAY 


to take catches also with the latter since these are directly com- 
parable with the hauls of the fishermen. 


THE GUTTER CONSIDERED AS A FISHING GROUND 

As already stated, the portion of the sea floor of Cardigan Bay 
chosen for analysis is that known as the ‘ Gutter,’ which lies to 
the south of Aberystwyth (see Map, Fig. 1). This region is 
considered by the local fishermen as the best commercial fishing 
ground in the bay so far as the ordinary small local fishing boats 
are concerned. Larger fishing grounds are found farther out 
which are worked by steam trawlers, but being rough and further 
afield are uneconomical to work from the point of view of the 
local fishermen. The Gutter is fished from the beginning of 
May until the end of October by boats carrying beam trawl 
nets. Several species of fish are caught here, the bulk of which 
fall into the family Pleuronectide and are of commercial value. 
The most abundant species taken is Pleuronectes platessa, the 
plaice, followed by the allied species Pleuronectes limanda, the 
dab, of less commercial value. Pleuronectes flesus, the flounder, 
and Rhombus levis, the brill, are occasionally taken, and also, 
now and then, the turbot, Rhombus maximus. Further, taken 
occasionally during the day, but mainly at night, is the sole, 
Solea vulgaris, a species of high commercial value, requiring 
its own method of fishing. Large quantities of young plaice 
are taken in this region, which may perhaps be regarded as a 
rearing ground for the Pleuronectid family generally. A peculiar 
fact noted by the fishermen is that whenever unusually large 
quantities of plaice are taken here, very few skate are caught. 
During the earlier part of the season the inshore portion of the 
Gutter is fished, but as the season advances fishing operations 
move outwards across the Gutter to the more open sea, and by 
the end of October this region is passed over and operations are 
carried out on the shallower nine-fathom line of the bay. Here, 
again, the plaice is the chief species caught, but with the difference 
that very few small specimens are taken, suggesting a winter 
quarters for the large mature fish. This nine-fathom ground is 
fished until the beginning of May, when operations recommence 
in the Gutter. These two seasons seem fairly well defined, and 
any fishing carried on in either region out of season is a failure, 
extremely few fish being caught. In the early part of the Gutter 
season the plaice caught there are small (see later under Stomach 
Content Investigation section). As the season advances larger 


ee eee Seren i 


SEA-FLOOR FAUNA OF CARDIGAN BAY 237 


fish are caught. What causes underlie their migration from the 
deeper water of the Gutter on the approach of winter is not known, 
nor whither they go. The river Dovey enters the sea a few miles 
north of the nine-fathom grounds and the local fishermen believe 
there is a migration of plaice between the latter and the Dovey 
Estuary at different seasons of the year, into the Estuary about 
May and out again with the colder weather about October. Large 
plaice were caught in the Estuary in June of the present year. 
Species of Scylliwm, the dogfishes, are sometimes taken in: 
large numbers whilst fishing in the Gutter, but their occurrence 
seems spasmodic. During the winter months, from October to 


March, large shoals of Gadus merlangus, the whiting, visit the 


Gutter, and these are fished for by lines. 


PHYSICAL GEOGRAPHY OF THE GUTTER 


The Gutter is characterised by being rather deeper than the 
surrounding ground ; it may represent the basin of an old river 
bed. It runs parallel with the coast and opens out into much 
deeper water just off Newquay. Its depth is, on the average, 
about thirteen fathoms, ranging a little on either side of this 
figure ; the surrounding ground averages eight to ten fathoms. 
Its floor may with convenience be divided provisionally into two: 
regions based upon the results of mechanical analysis. The first 
we may regard as a clayey region consisting of a fine sticky mud. 
The second region is relatively sandy as compared with the first,. 
but it has a greater percentage of clay than, for example, the 
‘hard sand’ of the bottom of Borth Bay, half a dozen miles 
north of Aberystwyth. These distinctions are given precision 
by the following mechanical analyses : 


Size of | eee. pee Hard sand 
particles region of | region of au oie 
gutter | gutter Bay 
Stones and gravel . | 3 mm. and 
above ae 
Pineeravel  , . .~,| 1-3 mm. 56 ae ws 
@oarse’ sand. > -.. . | 0-2-1, mm. 4-5% 2-2% 2 Loe 
Fine sand. . -. ./|0-04-0-2mm. | 30:3% 53-7% 62-6% 
ices es. | 0-01-0-04 mom. |< 18-99%, nS Goce vl Ler 
ime-silt 2. «= . 1 0-002—0-01 mm.) -(.20°3%% 16-6% Pod IN 
Clive... + | less than. -002 11-4% 1-3% 20% 
_ Soluble matter, etc. . 13-:8% 13-4% 66% 
Motales sacra cu 99°2% | 101-1% | 101-5% 


238 SEA-FLOOR FAUNA OF CARDIGAN BAY 


The first or more clayey region lies the nearer inshore of the 
two, and at a slightly greater depth. 


DATA OBTAINED BY THE PETERSEN GRAB 


Forty-three samples have so far been taken, and the analysis 
of these is set out in the table. 

A glance at the table will reveal that the sea floor of the 
Gutter presents a varied fauna, practically every phylum of 
the Invertebrata being represented, but that numerically two 
forms overshadow the others, namely, the Brittle Star, Amphiura 
filiformis, and the Gastropod Mollusc, Turritella communis. 

The Ccelenterata are very few on this muddy bottom, an 
occasional Cylista being found. Also the Nemertinea are scarce, 
a specimen of Carinella linearis being, however, occasionally 
brought up. The Polycheta are in greater abundance, eight 
species being recorded. Amongst these, Nephthys ceca is the 
most common, followed by Pectinaria auricoma, with its peculiar 
tube-building habit. Owenia fusiformis is another tube-building 
form. Sthenelais limicola is of interest owing to the occurrence 
of its allied species S. boa on the shore. The Echinodermata 
are well represented numerically as regards individuals, although 
only six species are found. Of these, particular mention must 
be made of the Ophiuroid, Amphiura filifornis, which exists in 
some regions in great abundance, and is to be found practically 
all over the Gutter, forming indeed one of the most characteristic 
features of its fauna. When taken it frequently throws off its 
arms and sometimes its central disk, making the actual counting 
of its numbers rather difficult. Several females have been found 
bearing eggs on their bodies. The aberrant Synapta inherens 
comes next in abundance, although its numbers are far less 
than those of the previous species, in proportion about one 
to fourteen. The allied Synapta digitata is less numerous. 
The heart urchin, Hchinocardium cordatum, is fairly common 
and, although small in numbers compared with Amphiura 
jiliformis, in bulk it forms quite a large percentage of the total 
Echinodermata taken. A specimen of the relatively large species 
Asterias rubens is sometimes found in the samples; the trawl 
net shows it to be quite a common species in the Gutter. Ophiura 
ciliaris is also taken; this, again, is commonly brought up by 
the trawl. The Crustacea taken in the samples are few, the 


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240 SEA-FLOOR FAUNA OF CARDIGAN BAY 


which two very similar species are found, typica and levigata, 
distinguished from each other by the form of the third segment. 
of the pleon. Two species of hermit crabs are found in the 
samples, namely, Hupagurus cuanensis and Hupagurus bernhardus,, 
and also the swimming crab, Portunus depurator. ‘The last three 
species are shown by the trawl and the stomachs of Elasmo- 
branchs to be quite common. Amongst the Sipunculoidea we 
may note Phascolion strombi, characterised by its habit of living 
in the shells of Gastropod Molluscs, especially T'urritella communis. 
It fills the shell with sand, which it hardens by a secretion of 
its own body, leaving, however, a small circular opening at the 


15% 


a 

E 

a 
ater 
ESRSSa 

@ 

| 

o 

HH Turritella communis. aa 


— = r_ 
noe eb OEBRS eae 
N 
= 


Number of undivedvals. 
=s F 
DERN ERoPee 


mal 
aya] 
aa 
OS 
Hea 
iS 
Be 
eae 
Ge 
aia 
Oo 
GB 
Bg 
wi 
wil 
ya 


En Weeee 
ERESEEEEEEPA 
He he See 


as 30 Sip i EO) ES, so 
Size in milltmelres. 


Fic. 7.—MEASUREMENTS IN MM. OF THE SHELLS OF 74 SPECIMENS OF 
TURRITELLA COMMUNIS TAKEN BY THE PETERSEN GRAB ON AUGUST 
16, 1921. 


(The results are expressed as percentages.) 


mouth of the shell, through which it protrudes. The other species: 
of Sipunculoidea, Phascolosoma procerum, does not occur in the 
Plymouth or Irish Sea records. Occasionally species. of Polyzoa. 


are taken, generally encrusting forms on the dead shells of 
Turritella. An occasional Ascidian also invests a Turritella 


Shell. One specimen of the Turbellarian Lepioplana tremellaris 


has been found, a species quite common under stones on the 
rocky shore of this coast. 


But the phylum of the animal kingdom most strongly 


represented is the Mollusca, which, in individuals, outnumbers: 
practically all the other recorded specimens put together. By 
far the most abundant species is the Gastropod Twurritella 


SEA-FLOOR FAUNA OF CARDIGAN BAY 24] 


communis, and hardly a sample is taken without specimens of 
this species being present ; it is, however, much more abundant 
in some parts of the Gutter than in others, some of the samples 
consisting indeed mainly of this species. The residue of the 


te to ls Ye ff 


ees ca | a9 | | 
HECIERSLer RESIS eesEee 
Li yyy tT TT eee TO am rm 
a ee ofa of 
397, 
IDOE SESEe (Seen eeee 
HORDE BUGEs Isnnnee 
SCRE SESel ieeeseee 
CURE RESEE BAeeosea 
HRC0SHSENd | (BAeseere 
SSCS SSR8o | ISeeneess 
CBSEEBEOSI (eeocRess 
SSGSSS008)! (Qeeeeeee 
ECE o SOR) igeeeenes 
os9 Cn 
4 SSIS EGSil aes 
HUCUESSeol BSAeeeee 
CODES SSHGIi SeSeeeeee 
ERSESLESC AEE 
SSBSS00S0!0i DEES 
sageeeessitt seees 
HUSLERLERIs Seas 
HEo0o0Benolle Boeee 
oo - SHUEREPEO er Weekes 
" J OOSelCealeo fo Seeee 
— SHGR0R 208 26 SESE 
3 BEBE o SSE ab ESE eease 
> i fo ao 
cE OSGeo aer Sf IeeaseEee 
.o sat i cele at sp a ne) sf 
5 SEEDS Eao Go tee Seeee 
ae DEEZ oanod Bo daeeeeo 
m EEERSGNEE oe ero 
Posy Po 
5H ATT el LLL 
SERRE SS) (eee 
ore HEOROSD Tl iSnasenee 
ee) EGRESS Sl ee eeese 
SRCCERIIE Hi Deneasae 
= BEGG CRS1 IS Sl See eee 
J BR RBSEIIS 21 Bea eeaew 
ars DEE EES ol SeeeeeeD 
BOB EESIS Sl Seeeoeeee 
2 po SOGRDEES Gol ao essees 
5 75D SOR RESIS Sl SeSeeeses 
= CODE eee DESEReeaB 
HOB ooo es Okaooooe aeGan 
HUSSno 10 0 Oeeseees nee 
TRBSOS Geo eee ann 
Tones cae tee Ooo 
BOCEED IEBE (lS isa ene gag 
OSS 28 Gel Sees [CL 
lel ele (ly Ha SaeE nen 
6c 4 2a GG e) 2028) ese ao ea eff sf os oe fen sf] fa 
TOE ERE? Bees ies eso ee 8 | ees |] || 
aspen sei | cw [| 2 | asa st eat eis pos fel fo [|e 
SSSG8/ nena o I a] afm | | | co i us Fe 
OP OS Goo eod ooeeoeo ghetto ff] 
DSRGE scones GoEsEsoe SSG 0SSR00000 0000050888 
HRS 4aeRnh CeRelsasleeee 8 | a a | | a Raa 
HOoes deeseo ve PTH 
CCE LeLit oo a nog a 
EGG? 42RR REM 
ABhOaBaDMEaL 
9 s {o (5 20 25 30 35 4.0 Ge so 


~Stuze in millimelres. 


Fic. 8.—MEASUREMENTS IN MM. OF THE SHELLS OF 197 SPECIMENS OF 
TURRITELLA COMMUNIS TAKEN BY THE PETERSEN GRAB ON OCTOBER 
27, 1921. 


(The results are expressed as percentages.) 


samples also is sometimes composed almost entirely of its dead 
shells. The size varies immensely, from small young specimens 
with a shell about 3 mm. in length up to individuals with a 
shell 45 mm. long; probably still smaller specimens could ‘be 
obtained with a sieve of smaller mesh. The samples which are 
A.S.—VOL. IV. R 


oe 


242 SEA-FLOOR FAUNA OF CARDIGAN BAY 


most rich in 7’. communis are those obtained on August 16, 
October 21, and November 11. For these, graphs have been 
plotted representing the frequency of occurrence of the different 
sizes, and a reference to these graphs (Figs. 7, 8, and 9) will show 
that they follow much the same general plan. 

They show a strongly marked maximum of small specimens, 


207% 


sy 
Hn ( 
aaa || BEES EEREEERS |_| 
} S060 006) (9c USGS Seem Geec0eseeeceee0C0 000000 
2 EERE BEES EASE SREB 
<2 eee RScG 
2 
Ys) 
S 
| SatorZ 
Cee 
0 
ie 
te] 
_» 
E 
Zs BERBERS ERI Bl ARM 
0 SS ee eee 


SEBS UEP 28GeeRoh Te 
12080 0 Reese eNGEreus GEREN Gane eeee olan 
° 5 1d 15 290 25 30 35 4,9 LS 


Size im millimelres. 


Fig. 9.—MEASUREMENTS IN MM. OF THE SHELLS OF 177 SPECIMENS OF 


TURRITELLA COMMUNIS TAKEN BY THE PETERSEN GRAB ON NOVEMBER 
O28 


(The results are expressed as percentages.) 
a comparative absence of specimens of middle size, and an 
increased number again of the larger ones. The significance 
of the drop in the middle of the curves is doubtful; it may 
point to a bad breeding season some time back, or perhaps 
to the action of some parasite or other influence causing a 
particularly heavy destruction of individuals when they were 
young, the older specimens being more immune. It is, however, 
evident that this region of the Gutter is on the whole very 


EEE - 


SHA-FLOOR FAUNA OF CARDIGAN BAY 243 


suitable for the growth of Mollusca in general, and of Turritella 
communis in particular. Of the seventeen species of Mollusca 
which have been found in the samples, the next to 7’. communis 
in order of numerical merit is Cultellus pellucidus. No specimens 
of this species have been taken under a length of 10 mm., but 
they range from 10 mm. up to about 30mm., withthe majority 
about 15 mm. The absence of specimens less than 1 cm. in 
length may be taken to suggest that Cultellus does not breed in 
this region, or that its breeding seasons only occur every two or 
three years, as is known to be the case in some other species of 
Lamellibranchs. Next in numerical order we find Syndosmya 
alba, the size of which ranges from 4 mm. up to 18 mm., 
with the greatest number of specimens about 5 mm. The 
remaining species of Mollusca, among which we may mention 
the primitive Lamellibranch Nucula nitida, are of comparatively 
infrequent occurrence, and are most of them of very small 
size. 

Measurements are made of all the Molluses taken, and these 
will be discussed in relation to growth when further data have 
accumulated, but in the meantime attention may be called to 
the above graphs of T'urritella communis as showing a point of 
interest regarding growth in that species. In the samples 
of August 16 the most frequently occurring shell length is 6 to 
7mm., but by October 21 it has moved on to 10 mm., show- 
ing thus an average growth of 3 to 4 mm. in two months. For 
November 11 it still remains at 10 mm., growth for the season 
having apparently stopped by October 21. 


CORRELATION BETWEEN THE FAUNA AND THE TYPE 
OF SEA BOTTOM 


It has been pointed out above that the floor of the Gutter 
may be divided into relatively more clayey and relatively more 
sandy portions. It is now proposed to consider the fauna in 
relation to these two types of bottom. 

The type of fauna found in the more clayey portion, as 
evidenced by the Petersen grab, is indicated by the samples 
obtained on August 10 and 31. It will be seen that by far 
the most abundant species present is Amphiura filiformis. The 
Mollusca, though by no means absent, do not exist here in 
large numbers, supporting the suggestion that Mollusca in 


244 SEA-FLOOR FAUNA OF CARDIGAN BAY 


general, and especially Lamellibranchs, prefer a relatively sandy — 
bottom to a more clayey one. Plate I is based on the five 
samples obtained on August 31 and represents the average 
numerical relations obtaining between the forms present and 
their relative frequency in a sample of a one-tenth of a square 
metre. 
| The second or more sandy portion of the Gutter lies more 
centrally and in slightly shallower water, and its fauna, as evi- 
denced by the Petersen grab, is indicated by the samples taken on 
August 16, October 21, and November 11. Mollusca predominate 
here over Echinodermata. The chief species of Mollusc found 
is Turritella communis. Plate II is drawn on the same kind of 
basis as Plate I, and illustrates the frequency of occurrence of 
the animals composing the fauna of this second, more sandy 
region. 

Plates I and II thus show the faunal distinction that exists 
between the samples so far taken from the more clayey and the 
more sandy portions of the Gutter respectively. In the first 
series it will be seen that the proportion of Amphiura filiformis 
to Turritella communis is 21:7, whilst in the second the pro- 
portion is reversed, being now 8: 22. It will be seen that these 
two provisional regions of the Gutter support faunas which in 
the range of their species are practically identical, but m which 
the relative frequency of occurrence of the two most abundant 
species is reversed. 

Petersen’s work in the Limfjord has led him to the conclusion 
that different regions of the sea-floor support different types of 
animal ‘communities.’ His investigations also show that each 
such community may be characterised by one or two dominant 
species. To characterise the community satisfactorily such 
species must at all times of the year compose an important part 
of the whole community, either in number or weight of individuals, 
and should also give an idea of the conditions upon which the 
community is dependent. No community of Petersen’s corre- 
sponds exactly to our community of the Gutter. The nearest 
approach is one from the Northern Kattegat Station, N. 14, 
described in his Report of the Danish Biological Station to the 
Board of Agriculture, No. X XI, 1913, published in Copenhagen, 
1914. This contains as characteristic species Turritella terebra 
(= communis) and Echinocardium cordatum, with Amphiura filr- 
formis as an attendant species. In a later Report, that for 1918, 


SEA-FLOOR: FAUNA OF CARDIGAN BAY 245 


Petersen makes reference to Turritella communis and Amphiura 
filiformis in relation to a Venus community. Further, in a 
paper by Southern on ‘Marine Ecology in the- Clare Island 
Survey ’: (Proc. Royal Irish Acad., Vol. xxxi., 1915), based 
on dredgings, evidence is given suggesting that on the west 
coast of Ireland there may be groupings of the same kind 
as this one of the Aberystwyth-Newquay Gutter. The latter 
we hame provisionally a Turritella-Amphiura grouping, and 
note that it can be subdivided to a certain extent, accord- 
ing to the relative proportions in which the two characterising 
forms occur, and according to the mechanical nature of the 
sea-floor on which they live. The appropriateness or otherwise 
of the name Turritella-Amphiura will become more evident when 
more detailed investigations have been carried out, as also the 
extent in which it may be possible to analyse it into Turritella 
and Amphiura subdivisions. The occurrence of Echinocardium 
cordatum should be investigated further. 7 

As attendant species to this community we may note the 
Polychete worms, which are perhaps onthe whole more abundant 
in the Amphiura section, especially Pectinaria auricoma and 
Sthenelais limicola. Nephihys ceca and Owenia fusiformis 
are, on the other hand, more numerous in the Turritella 
section. 

Of the Echinodermata, Synapta seems to thrive equally 
well in both subdivisions, Echinocardium cordatum rather 
preferring the Turritella subdivision. Among the Crustacea, 
the genus Ampelisca is found in equal numbers in both sub- 
divisions, Hupagurus bernhardus and Eupagurus cuanensis pre- 
ferring the Turritella subdivision, where the greater prevalence 
of Gastropoda no doubt increases their facilities for finding a 
suitable home. 

The residue of the samples after sieving out the muds and 
Temoving all the living animals consists mainly of the dead shells 
of Mollusca and empty tubes of tube-building Polychetes. 


STOMACH CONTENT INVESTIGATIONS 


Some preliminary stomach content analyses have been made 
in the case of plaice and skate. A haul of the trawl-net was made 
on May 11, 1922, in the more clayey portion of the Gutter, 
. where the Petersen grab had been used. Most of the fish taken 


246 SEA-FLOOR FAUNA OF CARDIGAN BAY 


were small, it being evident that the fishing season of the Gutter 
had not yet commenced (see account above of the Gutter as a 
fishing ground). The stomach content of nineteen plaice from 
15 to 25 cm. in length was examined with the following result : 


5: een Crustacea Polycheta Mollusca 
{<b} 
Q 
2 = 
S, 
a4 Cs) a B31 8 Q ® = > 5 
Faia un Ea | 3 8 os #2 = n 3 e g 
By tea 3 ios} 53.4 a is tno} 4 oS Co) 5<cd 8 
e} 38 a oo S | a ® i on v= — S Q = 
M Sea Qy | o qo a) ine) Oo 8 igo} i) i e) sg 
Q, S18 2, je) @ By SOs ssl || Ss | 8 
9 a8 Co}, S) Opel 2 oe | O.5 | oe ae) +5 (3) g |e. 
S Sales eis alog |] ms] s | =e g = 
— p> 2 Oo fol, oP m2 3S 45 ° 3 'O & 5-2 oles} 
Ge}, 2 |Holtal|as|/Oelnaiaal 4 /Oa| Aa |nal|O wh 
] x x x x 
03 x xX é 
3 x 
4 x ara 
5 ie xX xe x x x Bek 
6 x x x 
7 xX ai 
8 re Ni x 
9 x a axe a 
10 x x ae x x 
11 x | Di x 
12 Xe x 5 
13 x 
14 xe aires 
15 x x 
16 ee xX | x 
17 oy x x x Xs 
18 x x na x 
19 x Ke x. 
| | 
Totals 1). yp 5 3 8 ] ] ] ] 6 ] ] 1 


The totals indicate the number of stomachs in which each 
of the various species was found. It will be seen that by far the 
most abundant species found in the stomachs of the plaice was 
Amphiura filiformis, this brittle-star being present in sixteen out 
of nineteen cases. Some stomachs contained nothing but the 
disintegrated remains of this species, and as the fish were taken 
from the region of the Gutter where A. filiformis is in abundance it 
will be seen that it forms a suitable feeding ground for plaice. 
The Crustacea are also fairly well represented in the plaice 
stomachs ; among them being a few large complete hermit-crabs 
without their shells, and one wonders how the fish catches the 


SHEA-FLOOR FAUNA OF CARDIGAN BAY 247 


hermits sufficiently napping to separate them from their houses. 
Amongst the Polychete worms, Pectinaria auricoma ranks first 
in frequency. In one stomach three almost perfect specimens of 
Aphrodite aculeata were obtained, and nothing else ; the trawl-net 
on the same date brought up several large adult specimens. 
The Mollusca are poorly represented, with the exception of 
Cultellus pellucidus ; all the Molluscs recorded are Lamellibranchs, 

An examination of the stomach content of fifteen young skate 
from 15 to 25 cm. in length gave the following result : 


Crustacea Moll EOE 
Serial | ees chee 
aAuMber | jj N i 
of fish : ; Z 
Ampelisca | Crang- Nika Cultellus Not Loligo Not 
spp. onidee couchii | pellucidus | identified sp. identified 
1 x x 50 i ‘ 
2 x sn x x ae oe x 
3 xe Si ar Me: ee x 
4 x ms Ae x en a 
5 axe on ae ne x 
6 x : De ee fs 
| x ae ae ve 
8 x by a 3 
9 x he ae ase 
10 x De a; ae x 
1] x a Be x 
12 x x ae 
13 x ie 
14 ee 
15 
Totals 13 2 3 3 1 1 2 


Of the fifteen stomachs examined thirteen contained food. 
This consisted mainly of Crustacea, with occasional Molluscs and 
Polychete worms. Species of the Crustacean genus Ampelisca 
are by far the most abundant item; some stomachs contained 
no other food, and as many as twenty-three individuals of this 
genus were found in one stomach. This is in marked contrast 
with the contents of the plaice stomachs, and an even more 
strongly marked contrast is the absence from the skate stomachs 


of Amphiura filiformis. 


Most invertebrate forms common on the sea-floor in this region 
are taken as food by one or other of the two fish under considera- 


248. SEA-FLOOR :FAUNA OF CARDIGAN BAY 


tion, with, however, some notable exceptions. So far:-Turritella 
communis has not been found in any stomach, nor has Nephthys 
ceca, although the latter species has been found in the stomachs 
of plaice which we have caught in other parts of the bay. 

A comparison of the plaice and skate tables given above 
suggests that very little competition for food occurs between 
these two fish. 


CONCLUDING REMARK 


A preliminary study of the fauna of the Aberystwyth—Newquay 
Gutter shows that certain interrelations obtain between the 
various species of animals found living therein. We find one 
species depending upon another for its existence ; we find one 
species preferring one definite region of the sea-floor to another ; 
two species living in the same region, but making a different 
selection from the available food ; some species existing in much 
greater abundance than others, and the proportional numbers of 
the forms present varying with the type of sea-floor. 

These preliminary results indicate that a wide field of fruitful 
enquiry awaits the investigator, and we greatly hope that 
facilities may offer for carrying forward the work we have 
planned. Increased knowledge of life in the sea may not only 
be expected to further the elucidation of a variety of scientific 
problems, but also to render possible the introduction of methods 
of control that will be of material advantage to the fishing industry. 


R. DOUGLAS LAURIE. 
EK. EMRYS WATKIN. 


ON Wied WR a Lire 


mm ea 


SAEs) VE) 1) EA TRL TSS A GS | I BS 


is 


Oe A (ee TAT) 


JOS CAE NOAA 0 ENE * VOR | I | BS 


5) LR OT OR 


ty 
va 


N 
yf i G 


SHA-FLOOR FAUNA:OF CARDIGAN BAY 249 


Fauna found on 75 square metre of sea-floor in Amphiura region of Turritella- 
Amphiura community. An averaged result is given from the five samples 
obtained on August 31, 1921, which is graphically depicted on the opposite page. 


Plate I. 

KcHINODERMATA— 
Amphiura filiformis 3 : : . 20-8 individuals. 
Synapta digitata . : : ae : 1-0 - 
Synapta inherens ; : : é 6 a 
Echinocardium cordatum 2 i 

PoLycH #TA— 
Pectinaria auricoma : ‘ : 2-2 At 
Nephthys ceca : : : : IES - 
Sthenelais limicola. 1-6 ae 
Evarne impar 8 5 

SIPUNCULOIDEA— 
Phascolosoma procerum . : : 8. Bs 

Moriusca— 
Turritella communis : : : : 7-2 4 byt 
Montacuta bidentata oy é s : 1-4 a yh ke 
Syndosmya alba . ; ‘ ; ; 1-2 cS 4 
Corbula gibba .. : ; ; é 6 ee he 


In addition to the above the following species are found, but which are too Nk 
small numerically to be depicted. All species above -5 are depicted except in the Hy 


i 
ease of Echinocardium cordatum which is included owing to its comparatively Bs f 
large size. a 
NEMERTINEA— fi | 
Carinella linearis . : 3 5 : -2 individuals. Bit 
Ponycu =ra— is 
Owenia fusiformis 2 3s . 
Aphrodite aculeata 2 A 
CRUSTACEA— 
Ampelisca levigata ‘2 Bs 
Eupagurus cuanensis 2 35 
Moriusca— 
Cultellus pellucidus 2 2 
Sphenia binghami . 2 >» 


250 SEA-FLOOR FAUNA OF CARDIGAN BAY 


Fauna found on 35 square metre of sea-floor in Turritella region of Turritella- 
Amphiura community. An averaged result is given from the eight samples 
obtained on November 11, 1921, which is graphically depicted on the opposite 
page. Plate II. 


NEMERTINEA— 
Carinella linearis . ; : q : -5 individuals. 
EcHINODERMATA— 
Amphiura filiformis ; coe ; 2 8-1 e 
Synapta inhzrens ‘8 5 
Echinocardium cordatum -] i 
PoLycH&TA— 
Nephthys cca ; 5 : : . 2:3 x 
Sthenelais limicola. : ; 1-1 33 
Owenia fusiformis ; ; : : 9 “5 
Pectinaria auricoma by 5 
SIPUNCULOIDEA— 
Phascolion strombi : : ; P 1-0 es 
Phascolosoma procerum . : B ; 8 
MoLtiusca— 
Turritella communis : i : iD Dell a 
Cultellus pellucidus : ; ; : 3:5 a 
Syndosmya alba . 3 : 5 : 8 - 


In addition to the above the following species are found, but which are too 
small numerically to be depicted except in the case of Echinocardium cordatum 
which is included owing to its comparatively large size. 


PLATYHELMINTHES— 

Leptoplana tremellaris . : : 5 ‘1 individuals. 
EcHINODERMATA— 

Ophiura ciliaris . : : E ; ‘1 3 
PoLyzoa— 

Membranipora pilosa. 5 5 : 4 3 
CRUSTACEA— 

- Ampelisca levigata 6 : ; : 3 5 
Eupagurus bernhardus . é : , 3 5p 
Eupagurus cuanensis. ; : : 3 39 

MoLiusca— 
Bela rufa 


Bullinella cylindracea 
Philine aperta 
Spisula subtruncata 
Corbula gibba 
Thracia fragilis 
Thyasira flexuosa . 


e 
S 


PLATE II. 


Sat 


ISTOR 


ae 


—— 


38. THE FAUNA OF THE CLARACH STREAM 
(CARDIGANSHIRE) AND ITS TRIBUTARIES 


A PRELIMINARY INVESTIGATION OF THE PROBLEM 
OF LEAD POLLUTION 


Stupy of the freshwater fauna of the Aberystwyth district has 
hitherto been much neglected, owing partly to the superior 
attractions of the fauna of the seashore, on which most zoological 
workers here have concentrated their attention, partly also to 
the acknowledged poverty of the streams. 

_ The only two streams of any considerable size in the immediate 
neighbourhood of Aberystwyth, namely the Rheidol and the 
Ystwyth, are absolutely barren of fish, and the Clarach, a much 
smaller stream, although it does contain a few trout, has not 
sufficient numbers to make fishing a profitable industry or even 
a very popular sport. On the other hand, the river Dyfi, only 
a few miles to the north, is well stocked with salmon and appears 
to have on a rough inspection a normal abundance of invertebrate 
fauna. ae 

The poverty of the Aberystwyth streams has always been 
ascribed as a matter of course, and without much direct evidence, 
to the influence of lead mining activities, once carried on exten- 
sively in the neighbourhood of the head-waters of our rivers, 
and still polluting their waters through the presence of mine- 
refuse heaps along their banks. A thorough investigation of 
the matter seemed to promise points of both scientific and 
economic interest, and such an investigation has been commenced. 
The investigation assumes a definite local economic importance 
at the present time in view of the suggested opening of lead 
mines near hitherto unpolluted streams, operations which may, 
if uncontrolled, prove fatal to river fisheries. 

An initial step is necessarily the collection and comparison 
of species from streams in different parts of the area, since up 
to the present no records have been published. Another 

251 


eee 
a 


- ot ee nt ee 
at " 2 


252 THE FAUNA OF THE CLARACH STREAM 


important feature of the work is the analysis of lead-content 
both in solution in the water and in solid form in the river-bed, 
and the collation of the results of such analyses with the fauna- 
lists of the various localities. 

The study of the Clarach stream and its tributaries, an area 
of about thirty square miles, may well serve as an introduction 
to a study of the whole district, since within it are reproduced. 
on a small scale many of the features which characterise. the 
larger area. A study of the Clarach basin forms the basis. of the 
present preliminary paper. | 

The Clarach enters the sea about a mile and a half to the 
north of Aberystwyth town, on the northern side of Constitution 
Hill; its two head-streams, the Nant-Silo and the Afon Stewy, 
draw their waters from the edge of the region known as the 
High Plateau, just west of the Upper Rheidol Valley, and at 
about the 1,000 ft. level. The Nant-Silo and its tributary from 
Cwm-erfin flow through a lead-mining area, and six mines are 
found along their banks within three miles east to west. These 
mines have ceased working, like most of those of North Cardigan- 
shire, but heaps of mine-waste and borings in the rock, from 
which small streams drain into the river, remain to tell the 
story of former activity. The Afon Stewy and the Capel Dewi 
affluent, from north and south respectively, have no mines 
in their immediate neighbourhood ; the Bow Street Brook has 
two near its upper course. : : 

The main stream of the Clarach, swollen by the addition of 
several smaller tributaries, flows due west to the sea through an 
old glaciated valley. The river and its tributaries are all rapid, 
descending abruptly from the higher ground to the level of the 
valley-floor ; the bed is stony in the upper courses, but lower, 
over the boulder-clay floor, it contains much comparatively 
fine sediment. : 

Here, in the lower reaches of the main river, a little above 
Llangorwen, grow great tufts of Callitriche verna and other 
aquatic vegetation, and round about these tufts may be collected 
representatives of what is undoubtedly the richest fauna of any 
stream within the Aberystwyth area. Sheltering among the roots 
of the Callitriche tufts occur seven species of Caddis-larve, 
some dragging with them tubes constructed of leaves or of bark- 
fragments fallen from the trees which overhang the stream, 
others, masons in mud and stones, affixing their shelters to the 


Sa a ee ee =< | Se Se ee ee ee = = 
‘NISVQ HOVAVID FHL 
000} 


Be, oe AGO) 


J’'d oa’ y @ sendy Por] Tl 2a Si 2|22G © 


P2qit28ap Sd 1o07 Pe SLIANY 


254 THE FAUNA OF THE CLARACH STREAM 


stones in its bed. The worm-like larve of several species of 
Diptera crawl under the stones, and in summer clouds of gnats 
emerge from their pupation ; three Caddis flies and two species 
of May flies undergo their larval stages here, and Turbellarian 
flat-worms crawl over the vegetation and stones. Molluscs, rare 
in the district as a whole, are not unrepresented here, though 
but small and thin-shelled individuals occur in this district, 
which is poor in ime. The small bivalve Spheriwm corneum is 
found buried in the surface layers of sediment at the sides of the 
river-bed, the Goat’s-horn Shell (Planorbis spirorbis) clings to 
the water-weeds, and on the stones, rasping off the clinging 
Algz, are found the Freshwater Limpet (Ancylus fluviatilis) 
and the “snail” (Limnea peregra). Quite large-sized leeches 
(Hemopis sanguisuga) prey upon the latter species, and the 
active and predaceous Water-Mite (Sperchon glandulosum) 1s 
common. Gammarus pulex, the Freshwater Shrimp, is present 
in large numbers among the roots of the vegetation, and five 
water-beetles occur, the largest being Dytiscus marginalis. On 
the calmer waters to the sides of the main stream float minute 
plankton-Copepoda, and here may also be found the Water 
Boatman (Corixa geoffroyi) and the Water-Measurer (Hydrometra 
stagnorum).. Last, but by no means least, trout (Salmo fario) 
may be caught in this part of the stream. In all, excluding 
minute forms such as Protozoa and Rotifers, thirty-nine animal 
species have been collected from this locality : far and away the 
greatest number found in any stream of the district. 

Collection near the head-waters of the Clarach gives very 
different results. Near the Nant-Silo lead-mine the stream is 
already of a fair size, and the growth of vegetation (exclusively 
Bryophyte and Algal) on the stones of its bed might well afford 
shelter to quite a number of animal types, yet from this locality 
only three insect-larve have been collected, namely two Diptera 
and an Ephemerid, other groups being unrepresented. Lower 
down the same stream, after its union with the Afon Stewy, 
four new species make their appearance—two Stone-fly larve, 
one Ephemerid, and a Caddis, thus representing two new 
groups. | 

The Capel Dewi tributary presents a much richer fauna, 
including sixteen species and several new groups (e.g. Mollusca, 
Coleoptera, Crustacea), with a far greater abundance of indi- 
viduals. The fauna of the Afon Stewy is very similar. 


THE FAUNA OF THE CLARACH STREAM — 255 


Several very small contributory brooks have a remarkable 
wealth of Turbellarian individuals clinging to the stones and 
weed, as well as a few small Molluscs which are preyed upon by 
the leech, Glossosiphonia complanaia. (Hcmopis does not appear 
to find a footing in these shallow waters.) 

Detailed fauna-lists for a few typical localities are as follows : 


Locauity A. Nant-Silo, just below the old lead-mine, from 
which issues a small contributory stream. 


Diptera. . . . Tanypus maculatus. 
Simulium elegans. 
E’phemerida Chicconssimile:- 5-5... Fotal, 3 


Locauity B. Below confluence of Nant-Silo and Afon Stewy. 
Diptera .-. .. . Wanypus maculatus. 

| Simulium elegans. 

Ephemerida 


Chloeon simile. 
Eedyurus fluminum. 
Plecoptera. . . . Perlodes dispar. 
Chloroperla grammatica. 
Trichopiera’ . . . Khyacophilanubila . . Total, 7 


Locauitry C. Near Capel-Dewi. No lead-mines above ; 
volume of stream much as at A. 
Wiper —.: . ~ . anypus maculatus. 
Simulium elegans. 
S. sericeum. 


Otigochceta : 


-Ephemerida Chloeon simile. 
| Kedyurus fluminum. 

Plecoptera . Perlodes dispar. 

| Chloroperla grammatica. 

Trichoptera Rhyacophila nubila. 
Glossosoma Boltoni. 

Coleoptera Bidessus geminus. 
Hydroporus memnonius. 

Hydrachnida . Sperchon glandulosum. 

Amphipoda Gammarus pulex. 

Mollusca . Ancylus fluviatilis. 


Pisidium nitidum. 


ubitex: tublex  .2 +...) Lotal, 16 


256 


THE FAUNA OF THE CLARACH STREAM 


Locatity D. Main river, near Llangorwen. 


Diptera 


Ephemerida 


Plecoptera . 


Trichoptera 


Coleoptera . 


Hemvptera. 


Hydrachnida . 


Copepoda . 


Ostracoda . 


Cladocera . 
Amphipoda 
Mollusca 


Hirudinea . 
Turbellaria 


Vertebrata . 


Tanypus maculatus. — 
Simulium elegans. 

Dixa maculata. 

Chloeon simile. 
Eedyurus fluminum. 
Perlodes dispar. 
Chloroperla grammatica. 
Teeniopteryx seticornis. 
Rhyacophila septentrionis. 
Stenophylax nigricornis. 
S. infumatus. 
Brachycentrus montanus. 
Limnophilus extricatus. 
L. decipiens. 
Sericostoma sp. 
Bidessus geminus. 
Agabus chalconotus. 
Hydrophilus caraboides. 
Hydrobius fuscipes. 
Dytiscus marginalis. 
Corixa geoffroyi. 
Hydrometra stagnorum. 
Sperchon glandulosum. 
Cyclops serrulatus. 

C. fuscus. 

C. prasinus. 
Canthocamptus staphylinus. 
C. minutus. 

Cypris virens. | 
EKurycercus lamellatus. 
Grammarus pulex. 
Ancylus fluviatilis. 
Limneea peregra. 
Planorbis spirorbis. 
Pisidium nitidum. 


‘Heemopis sanguisuga. 


Dendroceelum lacteum. 
Polycelis nigra. 


Salmo fario: .:. ¢;°.°.°2>) etal. 


THE FAUNA OF THE CLARACH STREAM 257 


Locatity HE. Very small brook near Cwm House. 


momen \.. .. ..  Tanypus maculatus. 
Simulium elegans. 
Hydrachnida . . . Sperchon glandulosum. 
Amphipoda . . . Gammarus pulex. 
Isopoda . . . .  Asellus aquaticus. 
Mollusca. . . . Limnea peregra. 
L. truncatula. 
Otugocheta. . . . Nais elinguis. 
Hirudinea . . . Glossosiphonia complanata. 
~Turbellaria . . . Dendroccelum lacteum. 
iPolycelisnicraz- >. «.~ Total, 11 


Several features come into prominence when these lists are 
compared : 

(1) The fauna of the main stream (D) is comparatively rich, 
as might be expected, considering the volume of water and the 
occurrence of comparatively quiet reaches as well as fairly fine 
mud. 

(2) The fauna of locality A (Nant-Silo) is astonishingly small, 
especially as compared with that of C, which has about the same 
volume of water, or of E, where there is a mere trickle ; yet 
eleven species occur at EH, three at A. 

Some other factor, then, than the mere physical geography 
is active in the selection of species in this area. We note that 
locality A is situated just below one lead-mine, with five others 
not far above it, while locality C is free from such conditions. 
Further, at locality B, after the stream from A has met with an 
unpolluted stream (Afon Stewy), the number of species increases 
from three to seven, and the number of individuals increases in 
still greater ratio. The selective factor would thus appear to be 
the contamination which occurs in the neighbourhood of lead- 
mines: this is in agreement with the theory which has so far 
been generally accepted without much definite evidence. 

Next arises the question of the actual method of operation 
of such a selective factor: whether through the clogging of 
delicate organs by solid particles from the lead-mines or through 
permeation by lead-substances dissolved in the river-water. 
The matter is of some economic interest, especially in view of 
the probable opening of lead-mines near hitherto unpoliuted 
streams in Cardiganshire. Such operations may, if uncontrolled, 

A.S.—VOL. IV. ! S 


258 THE FAUNA OF THE CLARACH STREAM 


prove fatal to river-fisheries ; any method of control must be 
determined by the mode of operation of the selective factor. 
A few results of chemical analysis may be quoted, as follows : 
At A. Nant-Silo—poorest fauna. 
(1) Lead in solution appreciable : 0:05 milligrammes per litre 
of river-water. 
(2) Lead solid in river-sludge: 0°35 per cent. 


At D. Main river—richest fauna. 
(1) Lead in solution not appreciable. 
(2) Heavy percentage of lead-solid : 0:12 per cent. 


In view of this, it seems likely that the determining factor in 
the selection of species is the presence of lead in solution rather 
than in solid form: such a relationship appears to prevail also 
in other localities of the wider area around Aberystwyth which 
is being studied. It must, however, be noted that neither factor 
is exclusive of the other, and both may operate at the same time 
upon the same or different elements in the river-fauna. In the 
case of trout, for example, there exists some evidence of the 
deleterious effect of lead-solids in clogging the gills; still, even 
if they can be safeguarded against this, they cannot exist unless 
their food-organisms be also preserved, and the absence of these 
latter, such as Gammarus pulex and certain Ephemerida, from 
- water containing a relatively high proportion of lead in solution 
is significant. 

It is hoped to return to the discussion of the problem at no 
very distant date, when investigations at present in progress 
over a wider area shall have been completed. 


KATHLEEN E. CARPENTER. 


4. ADDITIONS TO THE MARINE FAUNA OF 
ABERYSTWYTH AND DISTRICT 


WHILST carrying out investigations in Marine Zoology in the 
Aberystwyth district I have from time to time identified animals 
not previously recorded from the locality. The following list 
supplements that given by Walton, Fleure and Wright in their 
“Notes on the Marine Life of the Shores of Cardiganshire,’ which 
appeared in the National Union of Teachers’ Souvenir of Aberyst- 
wyth Conference, 1911, page 97, published by S. ,V. Galloway, 
Aberystwyth, and which was repeated with slight additions by 
C. L. Walton in the Journal of the Marine Biological Association, 
Vol. X, No. 1, page 102, 1913. 

These new records fall into two groups: 

1. Forms from the inter-tidal areas. There are forty-five 
records of such. Where no locality is mentioned the specimens 
are from the shore immediately adjacent to the Aberystwyth 
promenade. 

2. Bottom-dwelling forms from Cardigan Bay. There are 
seventy such records, all new for the locality, since the sea- 
bottom of Cardigan Bay has not hitherto been explored. 

The species marked ‘I’ are recorded from the Irish Sea area 
in the report by Professor Herdman and others, presented to the 
British Association in 1896, or in the list of additions thereto 
published fin the Thirty-third Annual Report of the | Liverpool 
Marine Biology Committee, 1919. ‘Those species marked ‘ P’ are 
recorded in the Plymouth Invertebrate Fauna, /published in 
the Journal of the Marine Biological Association, Vol. VII, No. 
2, 1904. 


1. SHORE FAUNA. NEW RECORDS 


ANTHOMEDUSA : 
LP. Clava multicornis (Forskal). G. J. Allman, Monograph 
Gymnobl. Hydr., 1871, page 246, plate 2. With gono- 
phores. 7.v.20. 
259 


260 ADDITIONS TO THE MARINE FAUNA 


fe Coryne pusilla (Gartner). G. J. Allman, Monograph Gymnobl. 
Hydr., 1871, page 266, plate 4. Near low-tide mark. 
25.iv.21. - 

LEPTOMEDUS : 

IP. Campanularia flexwosa (Hincks). Hincks, Brit. Hyd. Zoo- 
phytes, 1868, page 168, plate 33. 

I. Sertularia gracilis (Hassall). Hincks, Brit. Hyd. Zoophytes, 
1868, page 262, plate 55. 9.xii.22. 

I.P. Aglaophenia pluma (Linneus). Hincks, Brit. Hyd. Zoophytes, 
1868, page 286, plate 63. Washed on to shore. 24.11.21. 


ECHINODERMATA : 
Ophiocoma neglecta (Johnston). Forbes, Brit. Starfishes, 1841, 
page 30, and fig. 28.x.20. 
IP. Ophiothrix fragilis (Miller). Forbes, Brit. Starfishes, 1841, 
page 60 and fig. as Ophiocoma rosula. Laminarian Zone. 
15.11.22. 
Ophiocoma bellis (Link). Forbes, Brit. Starfishes, 1841, page 
53 and fig. Very small specimen, Laminarian Zone. 
15.111.22. 
TURBELLARIA : 
IL.P. Stylochoplana sp., F. W. Gamble, Quart. Jour. Micr. Sci., 
1893, Vol. 34, Part 4, page 497. 4.v.20. 


NEMERTINI : 
P. Cephalothrix linearis (Rathke), Oersted. McIntosh, Brit. 
Marine Ann., 1874, Vol. I, page 208, plate 4. 26.1v.20. 
I.P. Tetrastemma candidum (O. F. Miller). McIntosh, Brit. 
Mar. Ann., 1874, Vol. I, page 167, plate 2. 9.11.20. 
I.P. Tetrastemma melanocephaium (Johnston). McIntosh, Brit. 
Mar. Ann., 1874, Vol. I, page 165, plate 2. Aberystwyth, 
20.v.20. Ynyslas, 28.11.21, etc. 
I. Tetrastemma flavidum (Ehrenberg). McIntosh, Brit. Mar. 
Ann., 1874, Vol. I, page 170, plate 4. 7 
NEMATODA : : 
Kindly identified by Dr. N. A. Cobb, Bureau of Plant Industry, 
Washington, U.S.A. 26.1.21. 
Oncholaimus fuscus (Bastian), numerous in sand at Ynyslas. 
Oncholaimus sp. \new vars. of fuscus or possibly new spp. near 
Oncholaimus sp. haroes 
Knoplus brevis (Bastian). 
Monhystera setosa (Butschli). 
Enoploides cephalophorus (?) (Ditlevsen). 
POLYCHAETA : 
Syllis sp. McIntosh, Brit. Mar. Ann., Vol. II. Laminarian 
Zone. 25.iv.21. Genus recorded I.P. 


ADDITIONS TO THE MARINE FAUNA 261 


~ LP. Magalia perarmata (Marion and Bobretzky). McIntosh, Brit. 
Mar. Ann., 1908, Vol. II, page 136, plate 59. 4.v.20. 
P. LEvarne mmpar (Johnston). McIntosh, Brit. Mar. Ann., Vol. I, 
1900, page 353, plate 26. 7.v.20. 

LP. Phyllodoce maculata (Linneus). McIntosh, Brit. Mar. Ann., 
1908, Vol. II, page 89, plate 45. 28.x.20. 9.x.20. 

P. Hieone picta (De Quatrefages). McIntosh, Brit. Mar. Ann., 
1908, Vol. II, page 100, plate 45, ete. Ynyslas, 18.xii.20. 

I.P. Nereis diversicolor (O. F. Miller). McIntosh, Brit. Mar. Ann., 
1910, Vol. II, page 312, plate 52. Aberystwyth, 28.x.20. 
Ynyslas, 28.11.21. 

Staurocephalus Kefersteint (McIntosh). McIntosh, Brit. Mar. 
Ann., 1910, Vol. II, page 358, plate 55. 22.iv.21. 

I. Glycera alba (De Blainville). McIntosh, Brit. Mar. Ann., 
1910, Vol. II, page 486, plate 65, etc. From sand at 
Ynyslas. 30.ix.21, ete. 

I.P. Scoloplos armiger (Miller). McIntosh, Brit. Mar. Ann., 1910, 
Vol. II, page 510, plate 56. Ynyslas all dates—ege masses 
on surface of sand. 22.11.20. 28.11.21. 

I.P. Scolecolepis fuliginosus (Claparéde). McIntosh, Brit. Mar. 
Ann., 1915, Vol. IIT, page 160, plate 98, etc. Specs. with 
only 6 or 7 anal. cirri. 26.iv.20. 14.v.20. 

Pygospio elegans (Claparéde). McIntosh, Brit. Mar. Ann., 
1915, Vol. IIT, page 189, plate 93. Very numerous in sand 
at Ynyslas. Aberystwyth, 9.x1i.20. 

I.P. Dodecaceria concharum (Oersted). McIntosh, Brit. Mar. Ann., 
1915, Vol. III, page 255, plate 91, etc. Extreme low water. 
Tentacles from 3 to 9. 23.iv.21. 

I.P. Cuirratulus tentaculus (Montagu). McIntosh, Brit. Mar. Ann., 
1915, Vol. IIT, page 242, plate 91, ete. 28.x.20. 


SIPUNCULOIDEA : 
P. Petalostoma minutum (Keferstein). Selenka, Die Sipun- 
culiden, Zweite Halfte, 1884, page 129; in Semper’s Rezsen 
am Archipel der Philippinen. Single spec., low water. 
25.iv.21. 


AMPHIPODA : 
Bathyporeia sp. G. O. Sars, Crust. of Norway, Vol. I, 1893, 
page 137. Ynyslas sand near high water. 27.iv.21. 
Genus recorded I.P. 
I.P. Gammarus marinus (Leach). G. O. Sars, Crust. of Norway, 
Vol. I, 1893, page 497, plate 175. Common. 7.11.21, 
22,.iv.21, ete. 
L.P. Chetrocratus Sundewalli (Rathke). G. O. Sars, Crust. of 
Norway, Vol. I, 1893, page 524, plate 185. Ynyslas, 28.11.21. 


262 ADDITIONS TO THE MARINE FAUNA 


sels Corophium grossipes (Linne). G. O. Sars, Crust. of Norway, 
Vol. I, 1893, page 614, plate 219. Numerous at Ynyslas, 
all dates. 
IP. Caprella acanthifera (Leach). G. O. Sars, Crust. of Norway, 
| Vol. I, 1893, page 666, plate 239. Low water. 23.iv.21. 
IsoPoDA : 
Gnathia maaillaris (Montagu). G. QO. Sars, Crust. of Norway, 
1899, Vol. II, page 52, plate 22. Larval form from sand 
at Ynyslas. 22.iv.22. 
Eurydice pulchra (Leach), Bate and Westwood, Brit. Sessile 
Eyed Crust., 1868, Vol. II, page 310. Ynyslas, 26.1.2]. 
MACRURA : 
I.P. Leander squilla (Linneus). Bell, Brit. Stalk-EHyed Crust., 
1853, page 305. Numerous. 2.v.21. 
POLYZOA : 3 
IP. Mucronella Peachu (Johnston). Hincks, Brit. Mar. Polyzoa, 
1880, page 360, plate 50, investing Fucus along with 
Sertularia from base of Constitution Hill. 12.x.20. 
LP. Alcyonidium mytilr (Dalyell). Hincks, Brit. Mar. Polyzoa, 
1880, page 498, plate 70. 4.v.20. 
MOLLUSCA : 
P. Craspedochilus onyx (Spengler). Forbes and Hanley, Brit. 
Mollusca, Vol. II, 1853, page 407, plate 59, as Chiton. 
14.v.20. 
a Is Utriculus obtusus (Montagu). Jeffreys, Brit. Conch., Vol. IV, 
1867, page 423, plate 8. From sand at Ynyslas. 26.1.21, 
ete. 


-2. BOTTOM FAUNA OF CARDIGAN BAY 


There are no previous records of the invertebrate animal life 
of the sea-bottom of Cardigan Bay. The list of species recorded 
from the Irish Sea area by Professor Herdman and others and 
reported to the British Association in 1896, and the list of additions 
thereto published in the Thirty-third Annual Report of the 
Inverpool Marine Biology Committee, 1918, deals with an area 
whose southern boundary is considerably north of Aberystwyth, 
being represented by a line running west from Nevin which 
is about 53” north latitude. I have examined catches made 
by trawl and dredge from the Lancashire and Western Sea 
Fisheries steamer James Fletcher and motor boat Alpha and by 
trawl, dredge and Petersen grab or ‘bottom sampler’ from the 
Aberystwyth motor-boat Draig-y-mor, and have identified the 
following species : 


ADDITIONS TO THE MARINE FAUNA 263 


ANTHOMEDUSZ : 


LP. Hydractinia echinata (Fleming). G. J. Allman, Monogr. 
Gymnobl. Hydr., 1871, page 345, plate 15. On Buccinum 
shell. Trawled off Ynys Bach, S. of New Quay, 13 fms. 
5.v.20. 


LEPTOMEDUSZ : 


I.P. Campanularia flexuosa (Hincks). Hincks, Brit. Hyd. Zoophytes, 
1868, page 168, plate 33. Trawled off Ynys Bach, S. of 
New Quay, 13-14 fms. 3.v1.20, with gonosomes. 

oe Obelia flabellata (Hincks). Hincks, Brit. Hyd. Zoophytes, 
1888, page 157, plate 29, growing on Flustra. Trawled off 
Ynys Bach, 8. of New Quay, 13-14 fms. 3.vi.20. 

TP. Obelia longissima (Pallas). Hincks, Brit. Hyd. Zoophytes, 
1868, page 154, plate 27. Trawled off Ynys Bach, 13-14 
ims: 16.71.20. 

I.P. Clytia Johnstom (Alder). Hincks, Brit. Hyd. Zoophytes, 1868, 
page 1438, plate 24. Trawled off Ynys Bach, 13-14 fms. 
16.vi.20. 

L.P. Campanulina repens (Allman). Hincks, Brit. Hyd. Zoophytes, 
1868, page 189, plate 38. Investing other hydroids. 
Trawled off Ynys Bach, 18-14 fms. 15.v.20 and 3.vi.20. 

LP. Calycella syringa (Linneus). Hincks, Brit. Hyd. Zoophytes, 
1868, page 206, plate 39. Investing other hydroids. 
Trawled off Ynys Bach, 13-14 fms. 3.vi.20. 

LP. Lafea dumosa (Fleming). Hincks, Brit. Hyd. Zoophytes, 
1868, page 200, plate 41. On Hydrallmania, trawled off 
Ynys Bach, 13-14 fms. 15.v.20. 

I.P. Haleccum Beanw (Johnston). Hincks, Brit. Hyd. Zoophytes, 
1868, page 224, plate 43. Trawled off Ynys Bach, 13 fms. 
15.v.20. Off Aberystwyth, 11 fms. 8.ix.20. 

‘P. Halecium labrosum (Alder). Hincks, Brit. Hyd. Zoophytes, 
1868, page 225, plate 44. Trawled off Ynys Bach, 13-14 
fms. 15.v.20. 

LP. Sertularia abietina (Linneus). Hincks, Brit. Hyd. Zoophytes, 
1868, page 226, plate 55. Trawled off Ynys Bach, 13-14 
fms. 15.v.20. Between Aberayron and Aberystwyth, 11 
iis: je. vail 20: 

LP. Sertularia operculata (Linneus). Hincks, Brit. Hyd. Zoophytes, 
1868, page 263, plate 54. Trawled off Ynys Bach, 13-14 
fears 52v20, 3:v1.20: 

LP. Sertularia argentea (Ellis and Solander). Hincks, Brit. Hyd. 
Zoophytes, 1868, page 268, plate 56. Trawled off Ynys 
Bach; 13-14 fms. 15.v.20.-: On Ostrea shell. 3.vi.20. 
On pebbles. 8.ix.20. 

IL.P. HAydrallmania falcata (Linneus). Hincks, Brit. Hyd. Zoophytes, 


264 ADDITIONS TO THE MARINE FAUNA 


1868, page 273, plate 58. Trawled off Ynys Bach, 13-14 
fms. 15.v.20. With gonothece. On Ostrea and Bucci- 
num. 3.vi.20. Very common. 

I.P. Sertularella Gayi (Lamouroux). Hincks, Brit. Hyd. Zoophytes, 
1868, page 237, plate 46. Trawled off Ynys Bach, 13-14 
fms. 15.v.20. Between Aberayron and Aberystwyth. 
With gonothece. 11.vi.20. 

IP. Sertularella polyzonias (Linneus). Hincks, Brit. Hyd. Zoo- 
phytes, 1868, page 235, plate 46. Growing on Ostrea 
trawled off Ynys Bach, 13-14 fms. 31.v.20. 

I. Sertularella rugosa (Linneus). Hincks, Brit. Hyd. Zoophytes, 
1868, page 241, plate 47. Parasitic on Flustra foliacea. 
Trawled off Ynys Bach, 13-14 fms. 3.vi.20. 

I.P. Diphasia attenuata (Hincks). Hincks, Brit. Hyd. Zoophytes, 
1868, page 247, plate 49. Growing on Hydrallmania. 
Trawled off Ynys Bach, 13-14 fms. 15.v.20 and 3.vi.20. 
Growing on Sertularella Gayi. Trawled between Aberayron 
and Aberystwyth. 11.viii.20. 

I.P. Diphasia rosacea (Linnzeus). Hincks, Brit. Hyd. Zoophytes, 
1868, page 245, plate 48. Growing on Buccinum. ‘Trawled 
off Ynys Bach, 13-14 fms. 3.vi.20. 

LP. Antennularia ramosa (Lamouroux). Hincks, Brit. Hyd. 
Zoophytes, 1868, page 282, plate 621. Growing cn Ostrea. 
Trawled off Ynys Bach, 13-14 fms. 16.vi.20. 

LP. Plumularia pinnata (Linneus). Hincks, Brit. Hyd. Zoophytes, 
1868, page 295, plate 65. Growing on sponge. ‘Trawled off 
Ynys Bach, 13-14 fms. 3.vi.20. 

J.P. Plumularia setacea (Ellis). WHincks, Brit. Hyd. Zoophytes, 
1868, page 296, plate 66. Growing on stone dredged 3 
miles off Aberystwyth, 11 fms. 8.1x.20. 

Alcyonium digitatum (Linneeus). S.J. Hickson, Quart. Journal 
Micr. Sci., Vol. XXXVII, N.S., 1895, page 354, plate 36. 
Trawled off Ynys Bach, 13-14 fms. 15.v.20. 


ZOANTHARIA : 
LP. Metridium senilis (Linneeus). P. H. Gosse, Hist. Brit. Sea 
Anemones, 1860, page 12, figured as Actinoloba dianthus. 
Trawled off Ynys Bach, 13-14 fms. 16.vi.20. 


HCHINODERMATA : 
P. Synapta digitata (Montagu). F.J. Bell, Cat. Brit. Echinoderms 
Brit. Mus., 1892, page 34, plates 1 and 7. In sand from 
Bottom Sampler—two spec. in each sample—about 13 fms. 
in Gutter off N. of Aberayron. 3.v.21. 
I.P. Antedon bifida (Pennant). F. J. Bell, Cat. Brit. Hchino. Brit. 
Mus., 1892, page 54, plate 9. ‘Trawled between Aberayron 
and Aberystwyth. 11.viii.20. 


ADDITIONS TO THE MARINE FAUNA 265 


I.P. Astropecten irregularis (Pennant). Forbes, Hist. Brit. Star- 
fishes, 1841, page 130, figured as Asterias aurantiacus. 
Trawled off Ynys Bach, 13-14 fms. 15.v.20, etc. 

IP. Solaster papposus (Fabricius). Forbes, Hist. Brit. Starfishes, 
1841, page 112. Trawled off Ynys Bach, 13-14 fms. Very 
common. 15.v.20, etc., etc. 

IP. Asterias rubens (Linneus). Forbes, Hist. Brit. Starfishes, 
1841, page 83, figured as Uraster. Trawled off Ynys Bach, 
13-14 fms. 3.vi.20. Common. 

I.P. Ophiura chars (Linneus). FF. J. Bell, Cat. Brit. Echino. Brit. 
Mus., 1892, page 106. Trawled off Ynys Bach, 13-14 fms. 
3.v1.20. Common. 

P. Amphiura filiformis (Miiler). F. J. Bell, Cat. Brit. Echino. 
Brit. Mus., 1892, page 119, fig. in Forbes’ Hist. Brit. 
Starfishes, page 40. Several specimens in mud from Bottom 
Sampler from ‘ Gutter ’ about 13 fms. off N. of Aberayron. 
3.v.21. 

LP. Spatangus purpureus (O. F. Miller). F. J. Bell, Cat. Brit. 
fichino. Brit. Mus., 1892, page 165. Trawled off Ynys 
Bach, 13-14 fms. Common. 15.v.20, etc., etc. 

I.P. EHchinocardium cordatum (Pennant). F. J. Bell, Cat. Brit. 
Echino. Brit. Mus., 1892, page 169, plate 16. In mud of 
Bottom Sampler from ‘ Gutter’ about 13 fms. off N. of 
Aberayron. 3.vi.21. 


NEMERTINI : 
IP. Carinella annulata (Montagu). McIntosh, Brit. Mar. Ann., 
Vol. I, 1874, page 203, plate 8. Dredged between Aber- 
ayron and Aberystwyth. 11.viii.21. 


POLYCHZETA : 
I.P. Aphrodita aculeata (Linneeus). McIntosh, Brit. Mar. Ann., 
Vol. I, 1874, page 247, plate 24. Trawled off Ynys Bach, 
13-14 fms. Common. 15.v.20, ete. 
I.P. Nereis (Nereilepas) fucata (Savigny). McIntosh, Brit. Mar. 
Ann., Vol. II, 1910, page 336, plate 52, etc. In 
-Buccinum shells along with Eupagurus Bernhardus. 
Trawled off Ynys Bach, 13-14 fms. 15.v.20. 


HIRUDINEA : 
I.P. Pontobdella muricata (Linneus). McIntosh, Mar. Invert. and 
Fishes of St. Andrews, 1875, page 114, plate 5. Trawled 
off Ynys Bach, 13 fms. 15.v.20, ete. : 


CRUSTACEA : 

LP. Paratylus Swammerdami (Milne Edwards). G. O. Sars, Crust. 
of Norway, 1893, Vol. I, page 463, plate 163. From sand 
of Bottom Sampler from ‘Gutter’ about 13 fms. N. of 
Aberayron. 3.v.20. 


266 ADDITIONS TO THE MARINE FAUNA. 


I.P. Cheirocratus Sundewalli (Rathke). G. O. Sars, Crust. of Norway, 
1893, Vol. I, page 524, plate 185. Dredged three miles off 
Aberystwyth, 11 fms. 8.ix.20. 

I.P. Phtisica marina (Slabber). G. O. Sars, Crust. of Norway, 
1893, Vol. I, page 646, plate 233. Dredged three miles off 
Aberystwyth, 11 fms. on Zoophytes. 8.ix.20. 

I.P. Crangon vulgaris (Linneus). Bell, Brit. Stalk-EHyed Crust., 
1853, page 256, from Sand of Bottom Sampler from * Gutter ” 
N. of Aberayron. 3.v.21. 

L.P. Hupagurus Bernhardus (Linneus). Bell, Hist. Brit. Stalk- 
Eyed Crust., page 171, figured as Pagurus. Trawled off 
Ynys Bach, 13 fms. 15.v.20. Common. 

EKupagurus Hyndmanni (Thompson). Bell, Hist. Brit. Stalk- 
Eyed. Crust., page 183. Inhabiting shell of Turritella 
communis. Trawled off Ynys Bach, 13-14 fms. 3.vi.20. 

I.P. Hupagurus cuanensis (Thompson). Bell, Hist. Brit. Stalk- 
Hyed Crust., page 178. In Turritella communis shell. 
From ‘Gutter’ N. of Aberayron in Bottom Sampler— 
shedding eggs. 8.v.21. 

I.P. Porcellana longicornis (Linneus). Bell, Hist. Brit. Stalk-Eyed 
Crust., 1853, page 193. Trawled off Ynys Bach, 138-14 fms. 
Common. Females in berry. 3.vi.20. 

I.P. Macropodia rostratus (Linneus). Bell, Hist. Brit. Stalk-Hyed 
Crust., 1853, page 2, as Stenorhyncus  phalangvum. 
Trawled off Ynys Bach, 13-14 fms. Common. 15.v.20, 
ete. 

P. Maia squinado (Herbst). T. Bell, Hist. Brit. Stalk-Hyed 
Crust., page 39 and fig. Trawled off Aberayron, 13-14 
fms. 10.vi.21. : 

I.P. Cancer pagurus (Linneus). Bell, Hist. Brit? Stalk-Hyed Crust., 
1853, page 59. Trawled off Ynys Bach, 13-14 - fms. 
3.v1.20. 

I.P. Portunus depurator (Linneus). Bell, Hist. Brit. Stalk-Hyed 
Crust., 1853, page 101. Trawled off Ynys Bach, 13-14 
fms. In berry. 3.vi.20. Common. 

IP. Corystes Cassivelaunus (Pennant). Bell, Hist. Brit. Stalk- 
Eyed Crust., 1853, page 159. Trawled off Ynys Bach, 13-14 
fms. 31.v.20. 


POLYZOA: 


Gemellaria loricata (Linneus). Hincks, Brit. Mar. Polyzoa, 
1880, page 18, plate 3. Trawled off Ynys Bach, 13-14 
fms... 15.420: hae 

I.P. Scrupocellaria veptans (Linneeus). Hincks, Brit. Mar. Polyzoa, 
1880, page 52, plate 7.. Growing on Flustra. Trawled off 
Ynys Bach, 13-14 fms. 3.vi.20, etc., etc. 


iP. 


EP. 


IP. 


EP. 


Lee. 


EP. 


ADDITIONS TO THE MARINE FAUNA 267 


Flustra foliacea (Linneus). Hincks, Brit. Mar. Polyzoa, 1880, 
page 115, plates 14 and 16. ‘Trawled off Ynys Bach, 
13-14 fms. 15.v.20, etc., ete. Very common. 

Membranipora pilosa (Linnzeus). Var. dentata. Hincks, Brit. 
Mar, Polyzoa, 1880, page 137, plate 23. Trawled between 
Aberayron and Aberystwyth. 11.viii.20. 

Lepralia foliacea (Ellis and Solander). Hincks, Brit. Mar. 
Polyzoa, 1880, page 300, plate 47. Trawled between Aber- 
ayron and Aberystwyth. 11.viii.20. 

Crisia eburnea (Linneeus). S. F. Harmer, Quart. Jour. Micr. 
Sci., Vol. XXXII, N.S., 1891, page 131, plate 12. On 
Flustra. ‘Trawled off Ynys Bach, 13-14 fms. 3.vi.20. 

Alcyonidium gelatinosum (Linneeus). Hincks, Brit. Mar. 
Polyzoa, page 491, plate 69. Trawled between Aberayron 
and Aberystwyth, 11 fms. 8.ix.20. 

Bowerbankia pustulosa (Kllis and Solander). Hincks, Brit. 
Mar. Polyzoa, page 522, plate 76. Dredged three miles off 
Aberystwyth, 11 fms. 8.ix.20. 

Amathia lendigera (Linneus). Hincks, Brit. Mar. Polyzoa, 
page 516, plate 74. ‘Trawled off Ynys Bach, 13-14 fms. 
15.v.20. 


MOLLUSGCA : 


| ol 


EP. 


LP. 


Turritella communis (Lamarck). Jeffreys, Brit. Conch., Vol. IV, 
page 80, plate 2, as 7. terebra. From ‘Gutter’ N. of 
Aberayron in Bottom Sampler. 3.v.21. 

Buccinum undatum (Linneus). Forbes and Hanley, Brit. 
Moll., 1853, Vol. II, page 401, plate 109. ‘Trawled off Ynys 
Bach, 13-14 fms. 15.v.20, etc., etc. Common. 

Tritonofusus gracilis (Costa). Forbes and Hanley, Brit. Moll., 
1853, Vol. III, page 416, plate 103, as Fusus islandicus. 
Trawled off Ynys Bach, 13-14 fms. 3.vi.20. 

Scaphander lignarvus (Linneus). Jeffreys, Brit. Conch., 
Vol. IV, page 443, plate 8. Trawled between Aberayron 
and Ynys Bach. 16.vi.20. 


. -Nucula mitida (Sowerby). Forbes and Hanley, Brit. Moll., 


Vol. II, page 218, plate 47. From ‘ Gutter ’ N. of Aberayron 
in Bottom Sampler. 3.v.20. 13 fms. 

Ostrea edulis (Linneus). Jeffreys, Brit. Conch., Vol. II, page 
38, plate 1. Trawled off Ynys Bach, 13-14 fms. 31.v.20. 

Pecien opercularis (Linneus). Jeffreys, Brit. Conch., Vol. II, 
page 59, plate 2. Trawled off Ynys Bach, 13-14 fms. 
15.v.20. 

Scrobicularia prismatica (Montagu). Jeffreys, Brit. Conch., 
Vol. II, page 435. From ‘Gutter’ N. of Aberayron in 
Bottom Sampler. 3.v.20. 


268 ADDITIONS TO THE MARINE FAUNA 
-I.P. Cultellus pellucidus (Pennant). Jeffreys, Brit. Conch., Vol. 
III, page 14, as Solen pellucidus. From ‘ Gutter’ N. of 
Aberayron in Bottom Sampler. 3.v.21. 
I.P. Loligo media (Linneus). Forbes and Hanley, Brit. Moll., 
1853, Vol. IV, page 228, Vol. I., plate Q.Q.Q. Trawled 
Ynys Bach, 13-14 fms. 15.v.20. | 
I.P. Eledone cirrhosus (Lamarck). Jeffreys, Brit: Conch., Vol. V, 
page 146, plate 7. Trawled off Aberystwyth, 9 fms. 


14.x.20. 
ELSIE HORSMAN. 


5. THE BRYOPHYTA OF ARCTIC-ALPINE 
ASSOCIATIONS IN WALES 


THE two counties Carnarvon and Merioneth have long been famous 
for their rich bryophytic Flora, and this has been very thoroughly 
investigated and recorded by two or three critical bryologists 
who have lived in North Wales for many years and by others 
visiting the district periodically ; but the Bryophyte Associations 
of the high mountains have not received the attention which they 
deserve in this country. 

The study which forms the subject of the present article was 
begun by the writer about ten years ago as forming part of a 
_ general comparative investigation of the associations of bryo- 
phytes on the high mountains of the Alps, Scottish Highlands 
and North Wales. This was interrupted during the war, and in 
the past three years since the war the writer’s time being com- 
pletely occupied with research in Genetics, his investigation of 
these mountain tops has been restricted to afew weeks’ excursion 
in the early autumn of each year. It is only proposed to deal 
here with that portion which relates to Wales (with occasional 
brief reference to corresponding types in Scotland), and this 
article must be considered a brief preliminary account, the 
publication of which is only justified by the absence of literature 
dealing with the subject in this country and the regrettable 
project of planting exotics on Snowdon, which if carried out ona 
large scale must inevitably alter the original character of the 
vegetation by the introduction of foreign species. 

The mountain areas dealt with are as follows: 

(1) The whole range of Snowdon from the upper limits of the 
Sub-alpine region to the summit (3,560 ft.), including Y-Wyddfa, 
the summit, Y-Lliwedd, Crib Goch, Crib-y-ddysg! and Braich 
Main, with the upper portions of the valleys Cwm Llan, Cwm 
Dyli, Cwm Glas Mawr and Llyn Glas (west of Braich Main). 

(2) The summit ridge of Carnedd Dafydd (3,426 ft. alt.). 

(3) The summits of Glyder Fawr and Glyder Fach from the 

269 


270 BRYOPHYTA OF ARCTIC-ALPINE ASSOCIATIONS 


‘Devil’s Kitchen,’ Cwm Idwal and the slopes on the opposite 
(south) side (3,279 ft. and 3,262 ft. respectively). 

(4) Aran Mawddwy summit (2,970 ft.) and the rocky ravines 
and precipices on the eastern side of the ridge, above Craiglyn 
Dyfi, Merioneth. 

(5) The whole range of Cader Idris from the upper Sub-alpine 
to the summit, Pen-y-Gader (2,970 ft.). 


THE ARCTIC-ALPINE PLANT FORMATION 


(a) The true upper Arctic-alpine is scarcely represented in the 
area under consideration, the altitudes not being great enough 
to harbour such plants as: 

Andrexa nivalis, Hook; 

* re ,» var. fuscescens, Hook ; 

Marsupella nevicensis (Carr.), Kaal. ; 

Alicularia  Breidleri, Limpr. ; 

Gymnomitrium varians (Lindb.), Schiffn. ; 

- erassifolium, Carr. ; 

Pleuroclada albescens (Hook), Spruce. ; 
which form such a characteristic association at the summit of 
Ben Nevis near the ‘snow line.’ Similarly the ‘ Marsupella 
Association,’ which sparsely covers considerable areas oi gravelly 
granitic detritus on the summits of the Carn Gorm mountains of 
Inverness and the eastern borders of Aberdeen, is unrepresented 
in Wales, there being no extensive outcrop of Granite at a high 
altitude on exposed summits.! 

(6) The Lower Arctic-alpine.—The altitude at which the 
Alpine region meets the Upper Sub-alpine varies considerably 
according to local conditions, but the average a be taken as 
2,500 feet in North Wales. 


It is composed of the following associations : 


J. The Chomophyte Association of Crags and Corries. 
II. The Moss-Lichen Association. 
III. Rhacomitrium Heath. 
IV. Anthelia Association. 


1 The author hopes, after the publication of a future paper elsewhere, 
on the Bryophyte vegetation of parts of the North-West Highlands of 
Scotland, to discuss the equivalent associations in the two mountain areas, 
with special reference to the geological formations, which it is impossible 
to go into here in the space available. 


BRYOPHYTA OF ARCTIC-ALPINE ASSOCIATIONS 271 


V. Alpine bogs. 
VI. Festuca grassland. 


I. THz CHOMOPHYTE ASSOCIATION OF CRAGS AND CORRIES 
This is essentially an association of Bryophyta, although 
Phanerogams are often locally dominant in the corries. Crags 
and corries occupy the greater part of the Alpine region of Snow- 
don and Cader Idris as well as the eastern side of Aran Mawddwy 
and the northern side of the Glyder Fawr and Glyder Fach ridge 
over Cwm Idwal, Y-Tryfan, etc. 
The list of Mosses and Hepatice occurring more or less 
frequently is a long one, while the rare species are very numerous. 
Representative species are best considered under three sub- 
associations : 
(1) Damp or dripping rocks : 
Andreza alpina, Smith cum fr. Frequent—abundant. 
Campylopus Swarziu, Schp. Rare. 
3 flexuosus, Brid. Frequent. 
& fragilis, B. & S. Occasional. 
- atrovirens, De Not. Frequent. 
Dicranum falcatum, Hedw. Rare. 
i starke1, W. & M. Occasional. 
Hissidens adiantoides, Hedw. Frequent. 
Grimmia torquata, Hornsch. Rare. 
Fe atrata, Mielich. Rare. 
Rhacomitrium protensum, Braun. Frequent. 
Barbula spadicea, Mitt. Occasional. 
-Trichostomum tenuirostre, Lindb. Frequent. 
Zygodon Mougeotii, B. & 8S. Occasional. 
Bryum filiforme, Dicks. cum fr. Frequent. 
,» alpinum, Huds. Frequent. 
Hypnum uncinatum, Hedw. Occasional. 
Preissia quadrata (Scop.), Nees. Occasional. 
Aneura pinguis (L.), Dum. cum per. Occasional. 

»  wmultifida (L.), Dum. cum per. Occasional. 
Marsupella emarginata (Ehrh.), Dum. Abundant. 
Alicularia compressa (Hook), Nees. Frequent. 

Kucalyx obovatus (Nees), Breidl. Frequent. 
Gymnocolea inflata (Huds.), Dum. Rare. 
Lophozia ventricosa (Dicks.), Dum. Abundant. 

5 Floerki (Web. & Mohr.), Schiffn. Frequent. 


272 BRYOPHYTA OF ARCTIC-ALPINE ASSOCIATIONS 


Plagiochila asplenioides (L.), Dum. Frequent. 
Saccogyna viticulosa (Sm.), Dum. Frequent. 
Bazzania trilobata (L.), Gray. Occasional. 
tricrenata (Wahl.), Pears. Rare. 

54 triangularis, Pears. Rare. 

Herberta adunca (Dicks.), Gray. V. rare. 

y Hutchinsiw (Gottsche), Evans. Occasional. 
Diplophyllum taxifolium (Wahlenb.), Dum. Rare. 
Scapania crassiretis, Bryhn. V. rare. 

bj obliqua (Arnell), Schiffn. Frequent. Forming very 

large patches in rocky streamlets. 

a dentata, Dum. Abundant. 

Frullania Tamarisci (L.), Dum. cum per. Frequent. 


29 


(2) Exposed dry rocks : 
Andreza petrophila, Ehrh. cum fr. Abundant. 

= Rothii, Web. & Mohr. cum fr.- Frequent. 
Dicranoweisia crispula, Lindb. cum fr. Occasional. 
Grimmia Doniana, Sm. cum fr. Frequent. 

7 ovata, Schwaeg. Rare. 

Rhacomitrium heterostichum, Brid. Abundant. — 

Tortula princeps, De Not. Rare. 

Barbula rubella, Mitt. Frequent. 

Gymnomitrium concinnatum (Light.), Corda. Frequent. 
. obtusum (Lindb.), Pears. Frequent. 
ye alpinum (Gottsche), Schiffn. V. rare. 

Alicularia scalaris (Schrad.), Corda. Abundant. 


(3) Sheltered rock crevices or clefts : 
Tetraphis Browniana, Grev. Rare. 
Ditrichum zonatum, Limpr. Rare. 
Swartzia montana, Lindb. Frequent. 
Dicranum fulvellum, Smith. Rare. 

53 Schisti, Lindb. Rare. 
Bartramia ithyphylla, Brid. Occasional. 
Webera cruda, Schwaeg. Frequent. 
Alicularia scalaris (Schrad.), Corda. Abundant. 
Diplophyllum albicans (L.), Dum. Abundant. 


Il. Tat Moss-LicHen ASSOCIAT:ON 


This is an open association dominated by Lichens and Bryo- 
phyta and having a few species of Phanerogams. The number of 


BRYOPHYTA OF ARCTIC-ALPINE ASSOCIATIONS 273 


Bryophytes in each particular case is principally dependent upon 
the degree of stability of the stones. The mobile scree is devoid 
of vegetation. On the relatively stable scree, consisting of large 
stones under. Y-Lliwedd and Braich Main (Snowdon) and on the 
north side of Cader Idris, east of the precipices over Llyn-y-Gader, 
Grimmia Doniana, Smith is dominant, produces abundant capsules 
and is usually the only moss growing directly on the bare stones. 

On the areas of stable boulders where, owing to the more 
gradual slope, a certain amount of earth is allowed to accumulate 
between the stones, the following Bryophyta are typical. Lichens 
are very numerous : ; 


' Andrea petrophila, Ehrh. Abundant. 
ee Rothu, Web. & Mohr. Frequent. 
Grimmia Doniana, Smith. Frequent. 
Rhacomitrium heterostichum, Brid. Abundant. 
he lanuginosum, Brid. Frequent. 

Gymnomitrium concinnatum (Lightf.), Corda. Rare. 

crenulatum, Gottsche. Frequent. 
Alicularia scalaris (Schrad.), Corda. Frequent. 
Diplophyllum albicans (L.), Dum. Abundant. 


Such conditions as this prevail over considerable tracts near 
the summits of the higher mountains, especially along the broad 
ridge of Carnedd Dafydd ; on the western side of Snowdon from 
Clogwyn-dur-arddu to Y-Wyddfa ; on the summit and southern 
side of Glyder Fawr and Glyder Fach and around the summit of 
Aran Mawddy and Cader Idris. 

In the lower part of the alpine region Cryptogramme crispa Br. 
is the dominant vascular plant. At higher altitudes this Fern 
gives way to Vaccinium Myrtillus L. 


Ill. RHAacomitrium HEATH 


This is a ‘ closed ’ association forming a thickly-matted carpet, 
usually studded with boulders. There is a considerable area of 
Rhacomitrium Heath below the Moss-Lichen Association on the 
summit ridge of Carnedd Dafydd and smaller stretches on 
Snowdon. Slight depressions in the general contour of the slope 
tend to become covered with this association, while the more 
exposed positions, or places where the Moss carpet is torn up by 
violent storms, revert to the Moss-Lichen Association. 

A.S.—VOL. IV. a 


274 BRYOPHYTA OF ARCTIC-ALPINE ASSOCIATIONS 


Plants of Vaccinium Myrtillus L. and Empetrum nigrum L. are 
scattered here and there, but Rhacomitriwm lanuginosum, Brid. is 
the dominant plant and in some cases is the only species of Moss 
found in the association. The Lichen Cladina rangiferina, Nyl. is 
abundant and Cetraria islandica, Ach. frequent. 

On the borders of the Moss-Lichen Association transitional 
types between these two associations are sometimes found, but 
on the whole the Rhacomitrium Heath, although undoubtedly 
poorest of all in species, is perhaps the most marked and char- 
acteristic in the whole Alpine region. 


IV. Toe ANTHELIA ASSOCIATION (‘ ANTHELIETUM ’) 


On the east side of Crib Goch (Snowdon), at an altitude of 
2,600—2,800 feet, and in the damp rocky ravines between the 
precipices on the eastern side of the Aran Mawddwy ridge, the 
Anthelia Association is well developed. 

Anthelia julacea (L.), Dum. is always noticeably dominant, 
most frequently forming rounded cushions which are a pure 
association of this species ; Alicularia scalaris (Schrad.), Corda and 
Lophozia alpestris (Schleich), Evans are, however, occasionally 
intermixed. Hach year as the new stems of the Hepatic develop 
and detritus washed down collects at the base the cushions 
become higher and spread laterally until, as in the first of the two 
localities mentioned, they are ultimately several yards across. 
These Anthelieta are only developed where there is an abundant 
water supply. 


V. ALPINE Bocs 


Large Sphagnum bogs are not found in the Alpine region on 
the Welsh mountains, but small boggy areas are found in many 
places, frequently by the side of streamlets, near the lower limit, 
extending up from the Sub-alpine region where they are of wide 
occurrence. 

In a typical example, some fifty square yards at an altitude 
of about 2,600 feet, the following species were abundant : 

Sphagnum recurvum, P. de Beauv., var. majus Angstr. (pro 

parte). 
os - var. robustum, Breidl. 
ie Russowii, Warnstorf., var. poecilum Russ. 
- auriculatum, Schimp., var. ovatum, Warnstorf. 
ne plumulosum, Roll., var. purpureum, Warnstorf. 


BRYOPHYTA OF ARCTIC-ALPINE ASSOCIATIONS 275 


Sphagnum rubellum, Wils., and 
. acutitolium, Ehrh. are frequent. 
Polytrichum commune, L. Abundant. 
Aulacomnium palustre, Schwaeg. Abundant. 
Philonotis fontana, Brid. Abundant. 
Hypnum revolvens, Schwartz. Abundant. 
stramineum, Dicks. Frequent. 
In these small mountain bogs in North Wales, dominated by 
Sphagnum, Hepatice are rarely actually present in the tufts, but 
Ptilidium ciliare (L.), Hampe occurs frequently between them. 


VI. ScattEerREeD Festuca GRASSLAND 


Patches of grassy turf, dominated by Festuca ovina L. exist 
in many places near the summits as well as on the sides of the 
mountains. Polytrichum alpinum L. (frequently with abundant 
capsules) is usually the dominant Moss in this association. In 
places where the grasses develop more luxuriant growth, under the 
shade of rocks, etc., Hylocomium loreum, B. & S. is frequently 
abundant, while a rather large number of species of Hepaticee are 
occasional or rare. Unlike the associations described above, 
however, in the present one Bryophyta constitute a relatively 
insignificant part of the whole, their extent being dependent upon 
the amount of moisture available. 


SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY 


ARMITAGE, H. (1914), ‘ Vegetation of the Wye Gorge at Symons Yat,’ 
Journal of Ecology, II, p. 98 et seq. 

Drxon, H. N. (1904), The Student’s Handbook of British Mosses 
(Second Edition), Eastbourne. 

HuEssexpo, A. (1918), The Botany of Iceland, Part II, 3, Copenhagen. 

JoNES, D. A. (1917), ‘The Mosses and Hepatics of the South-west 
of Anglesea,’ Lancashire and Cheshire Naturalist. 

Luns, F. A. (1888), The Flora of West Yorkshire, London. 

Macvicar, S. M. (1910), ‘ The distribution of Hepatice in Scotland,’ 
Proceedings of the Botanical Society of Edinburgh, XXV. 

Macvicar, 8. M. (1912), The Student’s Handbook of British Hepatics, 
Eastbourne. 

Moss, C. E. (1913), Vegetation of the Peak District, Cambridge University 
Press. 


276 BRYOPHYTA OF ARCTIC-ALPINE ASSOCIATIONS 


Moss Hachange Club Annual Reports (1919-1921), 24th-26th. 

Moss Exchange Club Annual Reports, Sect. IL (1910-1921). 

Smiru, W. G. (1912), ‘ Anthelia, an Arctic-Alpine Association,’ Scottish 
Botanical Review. 

Tanstey, A. G. (1911), Types of British Vegetation, Cambridge 
University Press. | 

Watson, W. (1918), ‘The Bryophytes and Lichens of Caleareous 
Soil,’ Journal of Ecology, VI, pp. 189-198. 

Watson, W. (1918), ‘The Bryophytes and Lichens of Fresh Water,’ 
Journal of Ecology, VII. 

WHELDON, J. A., and Wixson, A. (1907), The Flora of West Lancashire, 
Liverpool. 

Witson, A., and WHELDON, J. A. (1914), ‘ Alpine Vegetation of Ben-y- 
Gloe, Perthshire,’ Journal of Botany, LILI. 


C. V. B. MARQUAND. 


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CONTENTS OF .VOLUMES I-Ifl 


Vorume I. (1912) 
PAGE 


The Anglo-Saxon Riddles, by G. A. Wood, M.A. : 9 


2. An Analysis of the female characters of Grillparzer’ s 
dramas contrasted with those of Goethe’s and Schiller’s, 
by Miss Amy Burgess, MA. . 65 
3. Norman Earthworks near Aberystwyth, by F F. S. Wright 115 


4. A List of Research Publications by Members of the College 
Staff for the Session 1910-1 . ~ esas «027 


VoLuME II. (1914) 
The Anglo-Saxon Riddles (Cont.), by G. A. Wood, M.A. i 


2. Some Ancient Defensive Earthworks near iaigipbic 
by F. S. Wright . A AS 


3. Whitman v. Verhaeren, by P. M. Ae B.A. . Beye A | 


PI | Eee eee 


VoLumeE III. (1922) | He 
The Greek Agones, by Professor H. J. Rose : : Ly 


2. A few notes on the Familiar Letters of ae Howell, by i 
Professor E. Bensly cutee a4 i 


3. Fable Literature 1 in Welsh, by Professor T. Bet ee 45 ; ; 


4. Trajano Boccalini’s Influence upon English Literature, 
by Richard Thomas, M.A. . . aes Sek 


NotTEe.—Vols. I-III, price 3/- each, and Vol. IV, price 6/—, may be obtained "a 
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or from Humphrey Milford, Oxford University Press Warehouse, London. i 


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ABERYSTWYTH 
Vol. V 


ABERYSTWYTH STUDIES 
VOL. V 


ABERYSTWYTH STUDIES 


BY 


MEMBERS OF THE UNIVERSITY 
COLLEGE OF WALES 


VOL. V 


PUBLISHED BY THE UNIVERSITY OF WALES 
PRESS BOARD ON BEHALF OF THE COLLEGE 
. 1923 


Printed ia Great Britain by Butler & Tanner Ltd., Frome and London 


CONTENTS 


. THE GOVERNMENT OF NICOLAS DE OVANDO IN 
ESPANOLA (1501-1509). By Crcrt Jane, M.A. 


. ARX CAPITOLINA. By the late Professor G. A. T. DAvixEs 


and Professor H. J. Rosr 
. JAMES HOWELL AGAIN. By Professor E. BENSLY 


. THE CAULDRON IN RITUAL AND MYTH. By J. J. 
JONES, M.A. 


- CONDUCT AND THE EXPERIENCE OF VALUE. Part II. 


By Louis ArnaupD Rep, M.A. 


PAGE 


33 


43 


75 


83 


. SIR HENRY JONES AND THE CROSS COMMISSION. By | 


JoHN HucHEs, M.A. 


. NOTES ON THE HISTORY OF CARDIGANSHIRE LEAD 
MINES. By Miss K. CarpentER, M.Sc. 


Vv 


91 


99 


THE GOVERNMENT OF NICOLAS DE OVANDO 
IN ESPANOLA (1501-1509), AS THROWING 
LIGHT UPON THE QUESTION OF THE 
TREATMENT OF THE INDIANS BY THE 
SPANIARDS ! 


It would be difficult to frame a more serious indictment than 
that which has been brought against the earlier Spanish gover- 
nors and settlers in the New World, on the ground of their 
treatment of the native inhabitants of the lands which they 
occupied. It has been alleged that the Spaniards were guilty 
of almost incredible atrocities, that they caused the death of 
thousands, if not of millions, of innocent men, women and 
children. It is further asserted that they had not even the 
excuse of ignorance, or of obedience to superior orders, since 
their own Government consistently impressed upon them the 
duty of treating the Indians humanely. And it is declared 
that to their barbarity, they added hypocrisy, since they 
professed that all their actions were dictated by a desire to 
secure the material and moral salvation of those whom they 
so ruthlessly destroyed. 

During some four hundred years, these charges have been 
brought against the Spaniards; throughout that period, their 
truth has hardly been questioned. Within twenty-five years 
of the discovery of the New World, Las Casas began to hold 
up to reprobation the conduct of his fellow-countrymen towards 
the Indians, and that moral indignation which inspired his fiery 
denunciations has found a ready echoin the pages of later writers. 
Tt is true that the famous Lrevisima Relacion de la Destrucion de 
las Indias Occidentales, with all its palpable extravagances, has 
been generally recognised for what it is, a mere essay in contro- 
versial literature. But the same writer’s Historia de las Indias 
has been accepted as authentic history, its unsupported asser- 

1 Paper read before the Fifth International Historical Congress at 
Brussels, April, 1923. 

A.S.—VOL. V. 1 B 


2 GOVERNMENT OF NICOLAS DE OVANDO 


tions as statements of fact.1 The main contention of Las 
Casas has been admitted to be just, and such protests as have 
been raised against it have been somewhat lightly dismissed 
as the outcome of self-interest or of national prejudice. ? 

At the same time, if these charges are to be believed, it 
nust also be believed that the Spanish conquerors were peculiarly 
atrocious criminals, and further that there was a most complete 
divergence between the theory and the practice of Spanish 
administration in America. For the theory of that adminis- 
tration was admittedly admirable. The welfare of the Indians 
was a foremost, if not the foremost, consideration in all the 
instructions issued by the home Government. Isabella the 
Catholic was enthusiastically devoted to the task of securing 
the salvation of the natives; even the permission, which she 
granted, for the enslavement of the Caribs was dictated by a 


1 In some cases, the statements of Las Casas have been even exaggerated 
by later writers. For example, Las Casas (Historia de las Indias, II, 8 ; 
Documentos Inéditos para la Historia de Hspana, Vol. 64, p. 46), says: 
‘Creo que a la gran sefiora vieja, que arriba dijimos llamarse Higuanama, 
. . . la ahorcaron, si bien me acuerdo.’ In Washington Irving (Life of 
Columbus, Bk. VIII, c. ui.; ed. 1828, Vol. I, 395) this becomes: ‘ An 
aged female cacique of great distinction, named Higuanama, being taken 
prisoner, was hanged.’ | 

2 These protests have been neither numerous nor effective. Oviedo 
(Historia General y Natural de las Indias, Bk. II, ¢. vi. ; ed. 1851, Vol. I, 
-p. 73) contents himself with noting the divergence of opinion between 
the Franciscans and the Dominicans, and with the pious suggestion that 
the misfortunes of the natives must have been the result of some sin on 
their part, since ‘Dios . . . no hace cosa injusta.’ An attempt to contro- 
vert Las Casas is found in an anonymous letter written from Peru to 
Philp IT in 1571 (Doc. Ined. Hspana, 13, p. 425 et seq.). Ricardo Cappa 
(Estudios Criticos, acera de la Dominacion Espanola en América, Vol. II, 
p. 1 et seq.) tends to question the crimes of the Spaniards ; Blanco Herrero 
(Dominacion Espanola en Ultramar, passim) denies them by taking for 
granted that the legislation of Spain was in complete accord with the 
practice of colonial administrators. But the Spanish historians who 
gethered to celebrate the fourth centenary of Columbus at Madrid (1892-4) 
appear to have agreed in accepting the views of Las Casas as to the treat- 
ment of the natives (cp. El Continente Americano, conferencias dadas en el 
ateneo .. . de Madrid, 1892-1894). 

3 ‘Es opinién por nadie contradicha, y puede en consecuencia elevarse 
a la categoria de verdad inconcusa, que las leyes que did Espana 4 sus 
posesiones de Ultramar son uno de los mas gloriosos monumentos de su 
historia nacional’ (Fabie, Ensayo Huistoérico sobre la Legislacion de los 
Estados Espanoles de Ultramar, in Coleccion de Documentos Inéditos relativos 
al descrubrimiento . . . de las antiguas posesiones Espatolas de Ultramar, 
2da serie, Vol. 5, 1, p. v-). 


GOVERNMENT OF NICOLAS DE OVANDO 3 


desire to bring those cannibals to a better way of life, and to 
protect from them their unhappy victims, the peaceful Indians. ! 
After her death, a less altruistic spirit may have prevailed, 
but even Ferdinand displayed a shrewd appreciation of his own 
interest and insisted upon the importance of good treatment 
of the natives. ? 

The supposition that there was such divergence between 
the theory and the practice of Spanish administration presents 
a difficulty, which has been generally recognised. Las Casas 
attempted to solve it by means of the further supposition that 
Ferdinand and Isabella were deceived with peculiar ease. 
Other suggested solutions have been little more satisfactory. 
It has been argued that the distance between Spain and the 
Indies was so great as to make any real supervision impossible, 
and it has been supposed that the settlers were men who could 
not be controlled. But it is hardly credible that all the governors 
sent out, or even a large proportion of them, were men who at 
once availed themselves of the lack of direct supervision to 
disregard the express orders of their sovereigns, and, as to the 
character of the settlers, it is well established that in Espafola, 
at least, they were reduced to almost servile obedience by 
Ovando. 

But since the attempted solutions of the problems are so 
little satisfactory, there would seem to be ground for suggesting 
another solution, or rather, for doubting the very existence 
of the problem. It is, after all, possible that there was no 
such divergence as has been supposed between the theory and 
the practice of Spanish administration in the New World. 
There is, assuredly, nothing intrinsically improbable in the 


1° Por lo qual, aborreciendo la Reina esta nueva de comer Carne 
Humana, que para ella fue mui espantosa, i la relacion de sus barbaras, 1 
bestiales costumbres, mando dar una Patente; cuia substancia era; Que 
. . . para el servicio de Dios, sosiego, 1 seguridad de los Indios pacificos, 
convenia, que fuesen castigados. . . . Acordaron de dar licencia... 
cautivar, i llevar a qualesquier partes, para venderlos ’ (Herrera, Historia 
de las Indias, Dec. 1, lib. 6, ce. 10). 

2 For the policy of Ferdinand, see D.I.I. (i) 36, pp. 192-5, 257-263, 
270-272. Ferdinand, perhaps, insisted more than Isabella had done upon 
the need for the production of gold and other metals, and for the develop- 
ment of the material resources of Espafiola. 

3 Las Casas, II, 12; D.I.E. 64, p. 64. 

4 Las Casas, II, 40; D.I.E. 64, p. 205. Herrera, I, 6, xvii. Oviedo 
IIT, 12. 


= GOVERNMENT OF NICOLAS DE OVANDO 


suggestion that governors obeyed the orders which they had 
received ; that they did so would appear to be even probable 
when it is remembered that loyalty was a marked character- 
istic of the Spaniards of the early sixteenth century, loyalty 
which was proof against the basest royal ingratitude. Nor 
is it surprising if, in the heat of controversy, instances of cruelty 
were magnified or if atrocities were invented. Ardent champions 
of a particular cause have not infrequently been led to exag- 
gerate ; they have not infrequently been the victims of an honest 
credulity which has produced ready belief in all that appears 
to support the cause which they have at heart. It is not 
impossible that the Spaniards were less guilty than has been 
alleged, and it is therefore worth while to consider the extent 
to which the accusations brought against them rest upon any 
sure evidence. Upon this question, the history of the Govern- 
ment of Fray Nicolas de Ovando in Espanola would seem to 
throw some light. 

The instructions, given to Ovando! prior to his departure 
for the Indies, were very explicit, and were emphasised both 
by a royal answer to various questions asked by the governor 
and by a lecture on the theory of colonial government delivered 
to him in the presence of the sovereigns and not improbably 
composed or revised by Ferdinand himself. Ovando was to 
-promote the cause of religion by every means in his power, 
regarding this as his primary duty. He was to hold the 
residencia of Bobadilla and to send him back to Spain, together 
with such as he should find to have been foremost in causing 
the recent disturbances in the island. He was to restore to 
Columbus the property which Bobadilla had confiscated, and 
to allow Sanchez de Carvajal to act as the Admiral’s steward 
in the island, from which the Admiral himself was to be excluded. 
He was to enforce the payment of the royal dues, which had 
been remitted without authority by Bobadilla; to promote 
the material prosperity of the island, and to found new settle- 
ments, in which the Spaniards were to be compelled to reside 


1 The text of the instructions given to Ovando is printed in the Coleccion 
de Documentos Inéditos . . . de archivos . . . de Indias, lra serie, Vol. 31, 
p. 13 et seg. Cedulas relative to various points in those instructions are 
in D.L.I. (i), Vol. 30 and Vol. 31. The answer to Ovando’s questions is 
in D.I.I. (i), Vol. 31, p. 50 et seg. The curious lecture on colonial govern- 
ment is in Herrera, I, 4, xiii. An English paraphrase of the greater part 
of the lecture is in Helps, Spanish Conquest of America, Bk. III, c. 1. 


GOVERNMENT OF NICOLAS DE OVANDO 5 


that they might be more completely under the control of the 
Government... In the interest alike of good order and of religion, 
Ovando was instructed to prevent the immigration of unde- 
sirables and to deport such as he might find in the island, from 
which aliens were also to be excluded. 

Finally, in the matter of the natives, Ovando was to preserve 
peace between them and the Spaniards, administering equal justice 
to bothraces. He was to labour for their conversion, ‘ which is the 
greatest good that can be procured for them,’ and in this matter 
he was to act in collaboration with the clergy in the island. 


~“ You shall see to it,’ the instructions continue, ‘ that the Indians 
be well treated and be able to go securely throughout the land, and 
that no one does violence to them, or robs them, or does to them other 
ill or damage, setting for such action the penalties which you shall 
find to be necessary, and exacting them from persons who may be 
guilty, and on this matter you shall make the needful proclamation 
‘and issue the needful prohibitions. You must on our behalf declare 
to the caciques and to the other chief men that we desire that the 
Indians shall be well treated as our good subjects and vassals, and that 
no one shall dare to do to them ill or wrong,’ 


and that anyone doing any injury to the Indians will be punished. 
The instructions continue: 


‘As we are informed that some Christians of the said islands, 
especially of Espafiola, have taken from the said Indians their wives 
and daughters and other things, contrary to their will, you shall 
prohibit under severe penalties anyone henceforth to dare to do such 
things, and if they wish to marry with the Indian women, it shall be 
by the free will of those concerned and not by violence.’ 


The Indians are to pay dues, 


‘ but since the manner in which they shall be paid and collected must 
be according to the nature of the land, you shall speak on our behalf 
with the caciques and other chief persons, and the Indians as you shall 
see fit, and by their will shall agree with them as to what shall be paid 
annually to us by each as tribute, and as to the manner of payment, 
that they may know that no injustice is done to them. As for the 
collecting of gold and for the other work which we command to be 
performed, it will be necessary for us to make use of the services of 
the Indians, you shail compel them to work in our service, paying to 
each one the wages which you shall consider that they ought justly 
to have, according to the character of the land.’ 1 


1*Procurareys como los yndios sean bien tratados e puedan andar 
syguramente por toda la tierra, e nenguno los faga fuerza, nin los rroben, 
nin fagan otro mal nin dapfio, poniendo para ello las penas que vieredes 


6 GOVERNMENT OF NICOLAS DE OVANDO 


The character of the man, to whom these instructions were 
given, was such that he might be reasonably expected to carry 
them out. Las Casas, it is true, says that he was unfitted to 
rule Indians, and that when Oviedo describes him as very 
favourable to the natives, ‘he talks like a blind man, and as 
one who fills up his writings with any trifles, be they what they 
may.’ For the rest, the authorities agree in depicting Ovando 
as a man of piety, honest in word and deed ; so devoid of greed, 
that he was forced to borrow money to defray the cost of his 
return to Spain; a lover of justice, stern but not vindictive, 


ser menester, e executandoles en las personas quen ella fueren culpantes, 
e faciendo sobrello los pregones e defendimientos necesarios. Debeys 
de Nuestra parte a los Caciques e a los otros principales, que Nos, 
queremos que los yndios sean bien tratados como Nuestros buenos stbditos 
e vasallos, e que nenguno sea osado de les facer mal nin dapfio. . . . Porque 
somos ynformados que algunos Cristianos de las dichas Islas, especialmente 
de la Espafiola, thienen thomados a los dichos yndios sus muxeres e fixas 
e otras cosas contra su voluntad ; luego como Uegaredes, dareys orden como 
se los vuelvan todo lo que les thienen thomado contra su voluntad e defend- 
ereys SO graves penas, que de aqui adelante nenguno sea osado de facer lo 
semexante, e sicon las yndias quysieren casar, sea de voluntad de las partes, 
enon por fuerza. . . . Pero porque la forma como aca se pagan e cobran a 
ellos sygund la calidad de la Tierra, hablareis de Nuestra parte con los 
caciques e con las otras personas prencipales, e los yndios que vieredes son 
menester, e de su voluntad concordareis con ellos lo que Nos ayan de pagar 
cada uno, cada afio, de tributos ; e dichos de manera, quellos conozcan que 
non se les face ynxusticia. Porque para coger oro e facer las otras labores 
que Nos Mandamos facer, sera necessario aprovecharnos del servicio de 
los yndios, compelir los eis que trabaxen en las cosas de Nuestro servicio, 
pagando a cada uno el salario que xustamente vos pareciere que debieren 
de aber, sygund la calidad de la Tierra’ (D.I.1. (i), 31, pp. 15-16). 

A summary of the instructions given to Ovando is supphed by Herrera 
(I, 4, xi) and, less fully, by Las Casas (II, 3; D.I.E. 64, p. 18). The latter 
says: ‘Entre otras clausulas de sus instrucciones fué una muy principal, 
y muy encargada y mandada, conviene 4 saber, que todos los indios 
vecinos y moradoes desta isla fuesen libres y no sujetos 4 servidumbre, ni 
molestados ni agraviados de alguno, sino que viviesen como vasallos 
libres, gobernados y conservados en justicia, como lo eran los vasallos de 
los reinos de Castilla, y mandandole asimismo, que diese orden, como en 
nuestra sancta fe catdlica fuesen instruidos.’ In the actual text of the 
instructions, there is no warrant for the statement that the orders with 
regard to the Indians were ‘muy principal,’ etc., and Las Casas seems to 
produce a false impression of the instructions as a whole. He was inter- 
ested to prove that Isabella intended that the natives should not work 
except voluntarily, whereas some amount of enforced labour was inevitable 
from the provision that they should pay tribute and assist in the gathering 
of gold and in other necessary work. 

1 Oviedo, III, 12, Vol. I, p. 89. Las Casas, II, 9; D.LE. 64; p: 55: 


GOVERNMENT OF NICOLAS DE OVANDO 7 


and free from all personal ambition ; in a word, a great gentle- 
man, as became a Comendador of the knightly order of Alcantara. 

And it is admitted that, in general, Ovando did obey the 
orders which he had received. He promoted religion by his 
encouragement of the Franciscan mission, for which he built 
two monasteries, one at Santo Domingo and the other at Con- 
cepcion de la Vega.? In order to extend the area of civilisation 
in the island, he ordered the foundation of new settlements. 
The earlier tendency had been to concentrate all the Spanish 
residents in one city ; this policy was now reversed, and thirteen 
new towns testified to the wish of Ovando to erect centres of 
Spanish or of civilising influence throughout Espafiola.? He 


1 For the character of Ovando, ep. Oviedo, loc. cit. ; Las Casas, II, 3 ; 
D.I.E. 64,p. 17. The attack of Fernando Colon (Life of Admiral Christo- 
pher Colon . . . written by his own son, in Pinkerton, Collection of Voyages, 
Vol. XIT, p. 122), may not unreasonably be discounted. Herrera (I, 4, xi) 
transcribes Las Casas. Ovando was thirty years of age when he was 
appointed to the government of Espafiola; he was of a distinguished 
family in the province of Carceres. The high opinion held of him by the 
Catholic kings is indicated by the fact that he was selected as one of the 
_ ten boys to be brought up with the Infante Don Juan. As an example of 
his lack of ambition, there is the well-known story that he refused to 
allow himself to be addressed by the title to which he was entitled when 
he became Comendador Mayor of the Order of Alcantara (Las Casas, 
loc. cit.). He was extremely moderate in his diet and his dress, the latter 
despite the fact that a special cedula (D.I.I. (i), 31, p. 61) authorised him 
to wear brocades, etc., despite the rules of his Order, that he might maintain 
the dignity of his position as governor. He was affable, but at the same 
time dignified, and was loved as well as respected (cp. Oviedo, loc. cit., 
and Las Casas, loc. cit. and II, 50; D.I.E. 64, p. 254, ‘ plega 4 Dios, que 
la que Dios le tom6é en su divinal juicio, le haya sido favorable, porque, 
en verdad, yo le amaba’). 

2 Herrera, I, 5, xii. Las Casas must be suspected of prejudice when 
he says (II, 13; D.1.E. 64, p. 70): ‘* Por todo el tiempo que el Comendador 
Mayor esta isla goberno . . . no se tuvo mas cuidado de la doctrina y 
salvacion dellos, ni se puso mas por obra, ni hobo més memoria ni cuenta 
della ni con ella, que si los indios fueran palos, 6 piedras, 6 gatos, 6 perros, 
y esto no sélo por el mismo Gobernador, y a los que did los indios que les 
sirviesen, pero ni por los religiosos de Sant Francisco, que con é] vinieron, 
que eran buenas personas, los cuales, cerca dello, ninguna cosa hicieron ni 
pretendieron, sino vivir en su casa, la desta ciudad, y otra que hicieron 
en la Vega, religiosamente.’ 

3 When Ovando landed, there were four settlements in the island, of 
which only Santo Domingo was important. For a list of the foundations 
of Ovando, see Las Casas, IT, 18; D.I.E. 64, p. 101 ; Oviedo, ITI, 12. Las 
Casas (II, 10; D.I.E. 64, p. 58) complains that the towns were built by 
the forced labour of the Indians, adding: ‘y asi el Comendador Mayor 


8 GOVERNMENT OF NICOLAS DE OVANDO 


aimed also at giving these settlements a more permanent character 
than had been possessed by the earlier foundations, and at 
avoiding for the future catastrophes such as that which had over- 
taken Santo Domingo soon after his landing, when the town 
was destroyed by a hurricane. He therefore urged the building 
of houses of stone, instead of wood, and himself set the example. ? 
There was a certain danger that the economic activity of the 
Spaniards would be confined to the exploitation of mineral 
resources, and to meet this danger, Ovando endeavoured to 
develop both the raising of livestock and various forms of 
agriculture ; it is to him that the island owed the introduction 
of the sugar cane.? During the period of his government, 
the island advanced considerably in material prosperity; the 
Spanish population increased from some three hundred to some 
twelve thousand, and in place of being a source of expense, 
Espanola became a source of revenue to the Crown.® 

But Ovando was, perhaps, most successful in performing 
the most onerous of the duties imposed upon him, the establish- 
ment of law and order among the Spanish residents in Espanola. 
Both Columbus, and his brother Bartholomew, appear to have 
been lacking in administrative capacity ; they failed to control 
the settlers, and such events as the rebellion of Roldan illustrate 
the disorder which prevailed. Conditions did not improve 
during the brief rule of Bobadilla. He has been accused, with 
apparent justice, of having accentuated the evil by his remission 


comenzo @ ir por el camino que Francisco Roldan habia comenzado . . 
senalar y forzar los indios que hiciesen las casas y labranzas que los espamioles 
querian, y todos los otros servicios que habian menester, no solo los neces- 
arios, pero los demasiados.’ He finds in this labour, the condemning 
of the natives to practical slavery. 

1 Ovando rebuilt Santo Domingo on the opposite bane of the river, 
its present site, which was probably an error of judgment, the new situation 
being far more unhealthy (Las Casas, II, 8; D.1.E. 64, p. 48; Oviedo, 
IIT, 10, 11). Francisco de Garay built the first stone house in the Indies. 
Ovando built a residence for himself, a street of houses, ete. (Oviedo, 
loc. cit.). 

* Herrera, I, 5, xii; I, 6, xvi. Wild pigs did much damage to the 
livestock ; Ovando imported greyhounds to hunt them. 

3 For the general results of Ovando’s administration, cp. Las Casas, 
II, 6, 42; D.LE. 64, pp. 33, 215. The estimated amount of gold dealt 
with each year at the close of Ovando’s rule was 450,000 pesos. 

4 The Colons were possibly hampered by the fact that they were 
Genoese, and that the Spaniards resented alien rule. Cp. Ricardo Cappa, 
Colon y los Espatioles ; Estudios Criticos, Vol. I. 


GOVERNMENT OF NICOLAS DE OVANDO y 


of the royal dues and by his lavish grants of Indians, and of 
having devoted himself to the task of securing personal support, 
rather than to that of governing the island.! It is at least 
certain that when Ovando landed, the Spaniards were scattered 
in small bands over the country; that they had taken the 
daughters of native chiefs to be their mistresses, and ruled 
with practically independent authority over the districts in 
which they had settled. The effective control of the central 
government was confined to the city of Santo Domingo and its 
immediate neighbourhood. 

- To establish order in a community which had never known 
order would in no case have been easy, but various circum- 
stances served to accentuate the difficulty of the task. The 
government of Espafiola was claimed by Columbus, whose early 
restoration was believed to be intended.? The position of 
Ovando was thus uncertain ; the very legitimacy of his authority 
might be questioned. This was the more serious since, having 
no military force, he was obliged to rely upon prestige in his 
efforts to maintain or to introduce discipline among the settlers. 

He was, moreover, accompanied to the island by some two 
thousand Castillians, drawn mainly from the ranks of the 
impoverished nobility, men temperamentally averse from sub- 
mission to control and rendered more so by the misfortunes 
which presently fell upon them. They had hoped to ‘ gather 
gold like fruit’; they found that it could be won only by 
arduous labour, for which they were neither fitted nor inclined, 
and for which they had not the necessary implements. In a 
short while, they were reduced to the extreme of distress. 


1 For the licence under Bobadilla, ep. Las Casas, II, 41; D.1.E. 64, 
p- 212. An interesting defence of Bobadilla has been written by Luis 
Vidart (Colon y Bobadilla, in El Continente Americano, Vol. I), but there 
would seem to be no doubt that the utmost disorder reigned in Espanola 
at the time of Ovando’s landing. 

2 Las Casas (II, 3; D.LE. 64, p. 18) states definitely that Ovando 
was at first appointed for two years only, and is followed by. Herrera 
(I, 4, xi). But the royal letter of appointment does not warrant this 
statement ; Ovando ‘thenga por Nos la gobernacion . . . por todo el 
tiempo que Nuestra merced e voluntad fuere’ (D.I.I. (i), 30, p. 512). 
ft is probable that it was popularly believed that he was appointed for 
two years only, and it is not impossible that Ferdinand and Isabella 
wished Columbus and his friends to believe that the restoration of the 
Admiral was intended, or that they had not themselves reached any 
definite decision. 


10 GOVERNMENT OF NICOLAS DE OVANDO 


Such men, in such circumstances, were unlikely to be pillars 
of good order.! 

Nor did the policy of the home Government lighten the 
task of Ovando. From the first, grants of Indians had been 
made to members of the royal council and to others possessed 
of influence at Court, and aiter the death of Isabella these 
_ grants became more frequent. Ferdinand found no readier means 
of satisfying his creditors or of rewarding his favourites. The 
grantees, for the most part, remained in Spain, entrusting the 
management of their property in Espafiola to agents, whose 
sole concern was to secure the greatest possible profit for their 
employers and who were guilty of serious misconduct. Ovando 
was obliged either to allow such misconduct to go unpunished 
or to risk making powerful enemies ; in either event, the carry- 
ing on the government of the island would not be facilitated. ? 

Yet, despite all these obstacles, Ovando succeeded in establish- 
ing and in maintaining discipline among the Spanish settlers 
in Espafiola. Every sign of disorder was sternly repressed. 
Those guilty of misconduct were either deprived of their Indians 
or, in more serious cases, sent back to Spain. The tendency 
towards the creation of hereditary lordships was checked. ‘The 
Spaniards were compelled to send away or to marry the Indian 
women whom they had taken; those who chose to marry the 
daughters of caciques were at once deprived of control over the 
former subjects of their wives by being sent to some distant 
part of the island? It was the aim of Ovando to make his 


1 Las Casas, Il, 6; If, 42; D.1-E. 64, pp. 33, 215. Some-or the new- 
comers were forced to sell their clothes for food. 

2 Ovando attempted in vain to prevent such grants to absentees. 
Those who had served in the expedition to Naples demanded payment, 
and Ferdinand had nothing to give them except grants of Indians. ‘ El 
Rey, por cumplir con ellos y echallos de si, no sabiendo lo que daba, ni 
dando los indios, en qué paraban, did 4 algunos Cédulas para el Gobernador, 
mandando que les diese 200 indios, como 4 los otros vecinos desta isla los 
daba ’ (Las Casas, II, 41; D.I.E. 64, p. 209). The recall of Ovando may 
be partly attributed to his attitude in this matter ; he roused the hostility 
of Lope Conchillos (ep. Oviedo, III, 12; and D.I.1. (i), 23, p. 306). 

3 For the treatment of undesirables, see Las Casas, II, 40; D.I.E. 64, 
p. 204 ; and Herrera, I, 5, xii. Las Casas (II, 41; D.I.E. 64, p. 212) says 
that it was under pressure from the Franciscans that Ovando forced the 
Spaniards to marry or send away the women with whom they had been 
living, but such a course was so clearly dictated by considerations of policy 
that it may be doubted whether any clerical pressure was necessary. 
Having regard to the excellent terms on which Ovando was with the 


GOVERNMENT OF NICOLAS DE OVANDO 11 


authority felt throughout Espanola, and with this end in view, 
he spent some part of each year at Concepcion de la Vega, in 
order personally to supervise the district of which that town 
was the centre. His administration was admittedly severe, but 
the men with whom he had to deal would hardly have under- 
stood leniency. He was at times, perhaps, guilty of considerable 
duplicity, but it must be remembered that he had neither an 
army nor a police force, independent of those whom he was 
called upon to chastise. And that his rule was essentially just 
would appear to be attested by the fact that he won not merely 
the affection, but also the respect, of the Spanish residents in 
the island.? It was generally believed that he was never actuated 
by petty motives or by any desire for personal advantage ; 
that, in fact, loyalty was the mainspring of his conduct. 

This belief seems to have been well warranted; his treat- 
ment of Columbus suggests that his fault was a too implicit 
obedience to orders. Ferdinand and Isabella had expressly 
excluded the Admiral from the island,* either because they 
believed that his presence there would be the signal for disturb- 
ances, or because they considered that he could serve them 
most usefully by continuing the work of exploration and by 
discovering that passage to the wealth of Asia, in the existence 
of which he so firmly believed. On his fourth voyage, Columbus 
found that one of his vessels was unseaworthy, and he therefore 
applied to Ovando for permission to enter the harbour of Santo 
Domingo, both in order to secure, if possible, another ship and also 
in order to escape an approaching hurricane. In obedience to 
the orders which he had received, Ovando refused this request.°® 


Franciscans, it is possible that their admonitions were suggested by the 
governor, that the performance of a difficult task might be rendered 
less difficult for him. For Las Casas’ attack on Ovando in this matter, 
ep. infra, p. 26. 

1 Ovando resided at Concepcion partly because it was healthy, but 
he was undoubtedly also influenced by the fact that it was the best centre 
from which to supervise the mining district, in all probability the most 
unruly part of the island (Las Casas, I, 50; D.IE. 64, p. 252). 

2 As in the well-known story of the way in which he rid himself of 
undesirables, for which see Las Casas, Il, 40; D.IE. 64, pp. 204-5. 

3 Las Casas, loc. cit.; Oviedo, III, 12. 

_4Nawvarrete, Coleccion de los viajes y descubrimientos, etc., Il, 277; 
PE), S65 px 186. 

5 Las Casas, II, 4,5; D.I.E. 64, p. 22 et seg. Fernando Colon, c. 88 ; 

Pinkerton, XII, p. 128, 


12 GOVERNMENT OF NICOLAS DE OVANDO 


At a later date, when the Admiral was wrecked on the shore 
of Jamaica and was in great distress, Ovando delayed for some 
months to rescue him. His conduct im this case has been 
attributed to jealousy. and it has been asserted that he would 
have left Columbus to perish. had he not been obliged to bow 
to the pressure of public opimion, outraged by his treatment 
of the great explorer. The suggestion that Ovando was at 
all inclmed to regard public opimion is hardly more consonant 
with what is known of his character otherwise than is the sug- 
gestion that he was jealous. It is at least equally probable 
that his action was determined by the orders which he had 
received, and by the fact that he shared the fear of his sovereigns 
that the presence of Columbus m Espanola would interrupt 
the work of pacification. It may be supposed that by the 
time that Columbus was ait last allowed to come to Santo 
Demingo, the island had been thoroughly reduced to order 
and the danger of disturbance consequently removed.? 


+= But the governor of Hispaniola was airaid that if the admiral 
returned to Spam. Their Catholic Majesties would restore him to his 
government. and so he should be forced to quit it; for which reason he 
would not provide, as he might have done, for the admiral’s voyage to 
Hispaniola ; and therefore had sent this little caravel to spy and observe 
the condition the admiral was im. and to learn whether he could contrive 
with safety to have him destroyed, which he knew by whai had happened 
to Mendez ° (Fernando Colon, c. 104; Pinkerton, XII, p. 150). On this, 
Las Casas remarks: © Esta mtencion haber tenido el Comendador Mayor, 
afirmar yo. cierto, nO osaria, como Qquiera que fuera malisima’ (II, 33; 
D.LE. 64, p. 172). As to the pressure of public opmion, see Las Casas, 
it, 36; D.LE. 64, p. 182. Ii is to be noted that Las Casas, who was in 
the island at the time, does not himself say that public opmion was roused. 
agaist Ovando: * Quejabase mucho el Almirante del Comendador Mayor 

- y dijo que no lo proveyo (sc. de navios) hasta que por el pueblo 
desta ciudad se sentia y murmuraba, y los predicadores en los pulpitos lo 
tocaban y reprendian. j 

= When news arrived that Columbus was wrecked in Jamaica, Ovando 
Was In Xaragua, and according to Diego Mendez, who found him there, it 
Was seven months before he returned to Santo Domingo (Relacion de Diego 
Mendez. in Navarrete, Lp. 324). Hence, if the Admiral had come at once 
to Santo Domimgo, he would have arrived there in the absence of the 
governor. It has been suggested that Ovando mighi have sent a ship to 
convey Columbus directly to Spam, bui it is possible that no ship was - 
available. Ovando was only allowed one vessel (D.LL (i). 31, p. 51, and. 
pp. 84-85). and it so happened that no ships had arrived from Spain for 
a considerable period (Diego Mendez, loc. ciz.). Ovando has been accused 
oi sending Escobar to Jamaica merely as a “spy ~: it is at least legitimate 
to suggest that he sent him from an honest desire to discover what was the 


GOVERNMENT OF NICOLAS DE OVANDO 13 


And whether or no this be the true explanation of his conduct 
towards Columbus, Ovando certainly won the approval of Ferdi- 
nand by the general character of his administration. Not only 
was he maintained for eight years in his position, but the methods 
of government which he had adopted were recommended for 
imitation to his successor, Diego Columbus, who was further 
instructed to rely in doubtful cases upon the advice of the retiring 
governor.! It can, indeed, be hardly contested that in the main, 
at least, Ovando very faithfully carried out the instructions 
which he received. 

- But it is still asserted that in the matter of the Indians he 
set those instructions at nought. Las Casas alleges two specific 
instances of his disregard for the direct orders of Isabella,? the 
neglect of the work of conversion and the imposition of unreason- 
able labour, and to these definite charges he adds a general 
charge of maltreatment of the natives. 

It must be admitted that if the Indians were so maltreated 
as Las Casas asserts, and as later writers have believed, then the 
blame must rest upon Ovando. Such maltreatment cannot be 
explained away on the ground that the Spaniards in the island 
could not be controlled, for Ovando both could and did control 
them. Nor can it be supposed that he was ignorant of any 
misconduct which occurred. Las Casas declared that Ovando 
saw what was happening, but that he made no effort to remedy 


‘actual situation of Columbus; he may, as Harrisse (Christophe Colomb, 
II, p. 247) suggests, have suspected that Columbus was only trying to 
find an excuse to come to Santo Domingo. Too much has, perhaps, been 
made of the fact that Escobar had shared in the rebellion of Roldan, ete. 
Ovando had to choose between employing a declared partisan of Columbus 
or a declared enemy ; the island was hotly divided in opinion. For his 
purpose, a partisan of Columbus would clearly not have served. It is 
probably unwise to attach too much importance to the complimentary 
terms of the letter of Columbus to Ovando ; the Admiral would obviously 
have sought to conciliate the governor as much as possible, since he was at 
his mercy. As soon as he reached Spain, Columbus complained bitterly 
to the king. The action of Ovando has been attacked by Ruiz Martinez 
(Gobierno de Fr. Nicolas de Ovando en la Espanola), and defended by 
Fernandez Duro (Amigos y Enimigos de Colon), both in El Continente 
Americano, Vol. I. 

1 Cp. the instructions to Diego Columbus, D.I.I. (i), 23, pp. 290-309. 

2 For the charge of neglect of conversion, see Las Casas, IT, 13; D.LE. 
64, p. 70. For the imposition of unreasonable labour, see Id. Il, 10; 
D.I.E. 64, p. 59. For a general criticism of the whole attitude of Ovando 
towards the natives, see Id. I], 50; D.I.E. 64, p. 253. 


14 GOVERNMENT OF NICOLAS DE OVANDO 


the evil,! and the good order which he established seems to justify 
the belief, current at the time, that he was well acquainted with 
the character and conduct of all the settlers in Espanola. 

There is, however, a certain improbability in the suggestion 
that a man who was essentially loyal should have been disloyal 
in the very matter upon which he knew that his Queen would 
feel disloyalty most deeply. Such curious inconsistency of 
character, while not impossible, would be so remarkable that it 
becomes necessary to consider carefully the grounds upon which 
the charges brought against Ovando rest, before accepting them. 

Those charges are based upon a consideration of his conduct 
towards the natives both in war and in peace. It is alleged that 
he waged with extreme barbarity wars, which were in any case 
unnecessary and unprovoked, and that in his general adminis- 
tration, he showed no regard for the welfare of the Indians, 
allowing them to be ruthlessly exploited and, in the words of 
Las Casas: | 


‘depriving them of their natural liberty ... and making all the 
Indians of this island the slaves of their greatest enemies, who con- 
sumed them.’ 2 


The question whether the wars which he waged were necessary 
will be answered according to the view taken as to the need for 
maintaining Spanish dominion in the island. In the majority 
of cases, the Indians had taken up arms ; in the one case in which 
they had not done so, they were declared to be planning a revolt 
and a massacre of the Spaniards. Even if it be admitted that 
these risings were provoked by the most intolerable oppression, | 
it is still clear that to have allowed the natives in any part of 
the island to throw off the Spanish yoke would have been tanta- 


1 “Cosa fué maravillosa en aqueste tan prudente caballero, que cada 
demora ... morian gran multitud de gente con aquellos trabajos, y no 
cognosciese que la orden y gobernacion que cuanto @ los indios habia 
puesto era mortifera pestilencia, que con vehemencia estas gentes consumia 
y asolaba, y que nunca la revocase y enmendase, por lo cual no pudo él 
ignorar que no fuese pésimo é inicuo todo lo que habia en esto constituido 
y ordenado, y, por consiguiente, ni ante Dios ni ante los Reyes era excusado’ 
(Las Casas, II, 14; D.I.E. 64, p. 80). ‘ Y que cada demora via que se — 
acababan, y no curaba dellos ni 4 ponelles remedio se movia ’ (Id. II, 50; 
D.1.E. 64, p. 254). 

2°Privoles de su natural libertad ...y todos los indios desta 
Isla entreg6 en servidumbre ...a sus capitales enemigos, que los 
consumieron ’ (Las Casas, II, 50; D.I.E. 64, p. 254). 


GOVERNMENT OF NICOLAS DE OVANDO 15 


mount to permitting the entire extinction of Spanish rule in 
Kspanola. If the island were not to be entirely abandoned, the 
repression of resistance was a necessity, nor can Ovando be 
justly blamed for performing the most elementary duty of a 
colonial governor. 

But he is also charged with having used needless cruelty in 
putting down the revolts. This charge rests mainly, or entirely, 
upon the conduct of the two wars in Higuey and upon the case 
of Anacaona. 

For the original outbreak of disturbances in Higuey, Ovando 
was not responsible, since the natives of that district were already 
in arms when he arrived at Santo Domingo. Nor is there any 
evidence for the statement which has been made that he rejected 
the appeal of the Indian chiefs for redress. The matter seems 
to have been first brought to his notice by the murder of some of 
the party whom he had sent by sea to found a settlement at 
Puerto del Plata, of which murder the organisation of a punitive 
expedition was the natural consequence. 1 

According to Las Casas, this expedition was carried out with 


1 For the first war in Higuey, see Las Casas, II, 3; D.I.E. 64, p. 19, 
and II, 7,8; D.LE. 64, pp. 40-49; Herrera, I, 5,iv. Washington Irving 
(op. cut. xvii. 3; Vol. I, p. 393) says: ‘This’ (7.e. the murder of the 
Spaniards at Saona) ‘ was in revenge for the death of a cacique . . . for 
which the natives had in vain sued for redress.’ He quotes no authority, 
nor does Monte y Tejada (Historia de Hspanola, I, p. 232) by whom the 
same statement as to the demand for redress is made. There appears to 
be no evidence for the demand in the contemporary authorities, and it 
may be suspected that, had it been made, it would have been mentioned 
by Las Casas, who would certainly have known the fact, and who would 
hardly have omitted to mention a detail which reflected discredit upon 
his fellow-countrymen. There would seem to be some inconsistency in 
the account of the outbreak in Higuey as given by Las Casas. He states 
(II, 3) that Ovando was greeted on his arrival with the news of the revolt, 
but in relating the story of the massacre of the Spaniards on their way to 
Puerto del Plata (II, 7) he says that they landed at Saona for recreation ; 
it is hardly credible that they would have done so, taking no precautions, 
had they known that the natives were hostile. Yet if the fact of the 
rising were known at Santo Domingo when Ovando landed, it could not 
have been unknown to those whom he later sent to Puerto del Plata. 
Such inconsistency is rather characteristic of Las Casas, and may be 
perhaps attributed to the fact that he wrote from memory some time after 
the events which he records. But whichever version be taken, it is still 
clear that the cause of the revolt (the tearing of a cacique to pieces by a 
dog) antedated the landing of Ovando, and that the Indians were in arms 
when he arrived. 


16 GOVERNMENT OF NICOLAS DE OVANDO 


extreme cruelty and those engaged upon it were mainly anxious 
to make slaves.! But this statement requires some qualification, 
both in the light of the orders given by Ovando to Juan de 
Esquivel, the commander of the Spanish forces, and of the actual 
events which followed. Esquivel was instructed only to make 
war if the Indians should refuse to lay down their arms, and in 
any event to confine his military operations within the narrowest 
possible limits, making the restoration of peace his primary 
object.2, The natives refused the first offer of the Spaniards, 
but as soon as they showed a willingness to submit, they were 
accorded terms which were certainly not ungenerous. They 
were to remain undisturbed on condition of resuming the supply 
of bread to the Spaniards, and as a special concession, they were 
exempted from the duty of carrying that bread to Santo Domingo. 
Only a small garrison was left in the district. In all this, there 
is little to suggest extreme barbarity. Las Casas, certainly, re- 
counts various atrocities which he alleges to have been committed 
by the Spaniards, but even Las Casas adds a suggestion that his 
memory may have played him false. This suggestion would 
seem to merit some attention. When the account of the war is 
compared with that of the later expedition against Higuey, it is 
found that the same story of the cutting off the hands of the 
Indians is told in each case, and this is in itself sufficient to justify 
the discounting of the stories of atrocities.» But if they be 


1‘ Hicieron todos, los que tomaban 4 vida, esclavos, que es lo que 
principalmente los espafioles, aqui en esta isla, y despues en todas las 
Indias, pretendieron, y 4 esto enderezaron siempre sus pensamientos, sus. 
deseos, sus industrias sus palabras y sus buenos hechos’ (Las Casas, IT, 8 ; 
D.I.E. 64, p. 47). 

2 “Embio Nicolas de Ovando a hacer Guerra 4 los de la Saona, a Juan 
de Esquivel, con precisa orden de procurar de atraer aquellos Indios a la 
paz, por todos los medios posibles ; 1 que quando no aprovechase, que con 
quatrocientos Hombres, que le dio, hiciese la Guerra, llevando por 
principal fin el] pacificarlos, con ella’ (Herrera, I, 5,iv). Jt is noteworthy 
that Las Casas omits to mention the orders given to Esquivel. 

3 For the terms of peace, see Las Casas, IJ, 8; D.IE. 64, p. 47. 

4 Thus, after recording the hanging of Higuanama, he says, ‘si bien 
me acuerdo’ (Las Casas, II, 8; D.I.E. 64, p. 46). 

° The comparison of these two stories is instructive. Writing of the. 
first war, Las Casas (II, 8; D.I.E. 64, p. 46) says: ‘Muchos de los que 
tomaban cortaban las manos ambas, 4 cercen, 6, colgadas de un hollejo, 
decianles: ‘‘ Anda, lleva 4 vuestros sefiores esas cartas’’; conviene 4 
saber, esas nuevas.’ Writing of the second war, he says (II, 15; D.I.E. 64, 
p- 88): ‘Despues de hechos grandes estragos, prendian muchos por los 


GOVERNMENT OF NICOLAS DE OVANDO 17 


discounted, then Ovando would in this case appear to have 
proceeded with both temper and humanity. 

The renewal of hostilities was the result of the licence of the 
Spanish garrison and of an attempt to force the Indians to carry 
the bread to Santo Domingo, in defiance of the recent treaty. 
But once more a punitive expedition was necessary for the 
preservation of Spanish rule. The garrison had been practically 
annihilated by the natives, who had prepared for a prolonged 
resistance, removing their women, children and old men to places 
of safety, barricading the roads and laying ambushes. The 
situation was indeed grave enough to lead Ovando to draw con- 
tingents from all the Spanish settlements in the island, and to 
enrol a number of Indian auxiliaries who proved to be most 
valuable allies.? 

The history of this war is in various ways instructive. Such 
stories, as that of the single combat between an Indian and a 
Spaniard,? where the two armies played the part of spectators, 
suggests that the invaders felt some respect for their opponents. 
The account given by Las Casas 3 of the skill shown by the 
Indians in meeting the Spanish attack, appears to dispose of the 
idea that wars between the Indians and the Spaniards amounted 
to little more than the hunting down of timorous and defenceless 
natives by well-armed members of the most warlike race of 
sixteenth century Europe.t’ Knowledge of an extremely difficult 


montes, destos que del cuchillo se habian escapado, a todos los cuales les 
hacian poner sobre un palo la una mano, y con el espada se la cortaban, 
y luego la otra, 4 cercen, 6 que algun pellejo quedaba colgando, y decianles : 
‘* Andad, llevad 4 los demas esas cartas.”’ Por decir, “‘ llevad las nuevas de 
lo que se ha de hacer dellos, segun que con vosotros se ha obrado ”’ ; ibanse 
los desventurados, gimiendo y llorando, de los cuales, pocos 6 ningunos, 
segun iban, escapaban, desangrandose, y no teniendo por los montes, ni 
sabiendo donde ir a hallar alguno de los suyos, que les tomase la sangre ni 
curase ; y asi, desde 4 poca tierra que andaban, caian sin algun remedio ni 
mamparo.’ It would almost seem that the story had been deliberately 
improved at the second telling. 

1 For the second war in Higuey, see Las Casas, Ii, 15-18; D.I.E. 64, 
pp. 84-102. Herrera, I, 6, viii. 

2 Las. Casas, II, 16; D.I.E. 64, pp. 90-91. Herrera, loc. cit. 

3 Las Casas, loc. cit. It may be noted that in this war the Spaniards 
suffered great hardships from lack of adequate supplies of food (Las Casas, 
Wid; DE: -64, p. 95). 

4 * Pero como todas sus guerras eran como juegos de ninos, teniendo las 
barrigas por escudos para rescibir las saetas de las ballestas de los espanoles, 
y las pelotas de las escopetas ; como peleasen desnudos en cueros, no con 


A.S.—VOL. V. i , C 


18 GOVERNMENT OF NICOLAS DE OVANDO 


country, agility and the advantage of numbers, served to com- 
pensate, at least to a considerable extent, for superiority in 
equipment, a superiority which was itself less marked than has 
sometimes been supposed, since the Spaniards had few muskets. 
The contest, in fact, was waged upon not unequal terms, and 
this in itself is sufficient rather to discount the charge of 
barbarity. 

That charge is further discounted by another feature of this 
war. Cotubanama,! the leading cacique of Higuey, succeeded 
in exacting such implicit obedience from his people that not 
even torture would extract any information from them, and 
Esquivel was speedily convinced that the war could be ended 
only by the capture of the chief. That capture, however, was 
impossible without the assistance of Indian guides, and in order 
to secure such assistance, Esquivel attempted to make the 
Spaniards appear more terrible to the natives even than the 
terrible Cotubanama, whose authority, when his remarkable 
physique and his personal appearance are remembered, rested 
obviously rather upon fear than upon love. His efforts were 
eventually successful, and with the capture and execution of 
Cotubanama, the war ended. The argument that cruelty is in 
some cases the. truest humanity was familiar enough to the 
soldiers of the sixteenth century ; its adoption by Esquivel in 
this instance is not indicative of any peculiar barbarity of mind. 

The treatment of Anacaona ? appears at first sight to be less 
susceptible of justification or of defence. To Isabella, it appeared 
to be peculiarly abominable,? and her verdict has been endorsed 
by later writers, who have converted the Indian princess into a 
heroine endowed with most physical and moral excellencies.4 
mas armas de sus arcos y flechas, sin hierro, y con piedras donde las habia, 
poco sosten podian tener contra los espanoles, cuyas armas son_hierro, 
y sus espadas cortan un indio por medio, y las fuerzas y corazones tienen de 
acero ; pues de los caballos no digo, que en una hora de tiempo alancea 
uno solo 2,000 dellos’ (Las Casas, II, 8; D.I.E. 64, p. 45). 

1 For Cotubanama, see Las Casas, II, 8; D.I.E. 64, p. 47; II, 16; 
D.L.E. 64, p. 89. Herrera, I, 6, viii. 

* For Anacaona, see Las Casas, II,9; D.I.E. 64, p. 50 et seq. ; Herrera, 
I, 6, iv. Oviedo, II, 12. Relacion fe Diego Hees in Navarrete, 
Coleccion de los Viages, etc., I, p. 324. 

3 Las Casas, loc. cit. Herrera, loc. cit. and 1, 7,x. Isabella was anxious, 
according to these writers, that Ovando should be recalled to give an 
account of his conduct, and only her death prevented this from being done. 

4 Cp. Charlevoix, Histowre de S. Domingue, I, pp. 231-234. Washington 
Irving, op. cit. XVII, u. (Vol. Ili, pp. 389-390). ; 


GOVERNMENT OF NICOLAS DE OVANDO 19 


There is no doubt that the acts of Ovando were marked by con- 
siderable duplicity, and the burning alive of a number of Indian 
chiefs was certainly an act of barbarism.! Yet it is hardly safe 
to assert that the duplicity was all on one side. The Spaniards 
declared that Anacaona was plotting the destruction of those 
who had been resident in her territory, nor can this charge be 
dismissed as a pure invention, as it is dismissed by Las Casas. 
There is no doubt that the former affection of the princess for 
the Spaniards had been converted by various causes into the 
most intense hatred,? or that she was anxious to rid herself of 
their presence. And since treachery was an apparent charac- 
teristic of the natives, there is nothing intrinsically improbable 
in the suggestion that she hoped to attain her object by means 
of a surprise attack. Nor is the suggestion of a conspiracy 
disproved by the fact that, during the two preceding years, 
Anacaona, despite the occurrence of conflicts between her subjects 
and the Spaniards, had maintained her friendly attitude. Her 
hostility was admittedly of gradual growth, and it would seem 
to be possible that, in common with other native rulers, she 
hoped that the strangers would in due course depart of their own 
accord.? And when it is remembered that Ovando acted with 
deliberation, taking some time to convince himself of the reality 
of the alleged plot, the existence of that plot appears to be rather 
probable than improbable.* 

If, however, the Indians were planning an attack, Ovando 
had little prospect of escape, save by acting as he did. His small 


1 The number of the caciques is uncertain; Las Casas (loc. cit.) gives 
eighty ; Diego Mendez (loc. cit.) gives eighty-four; Gomara, Historia 
general de las Indias, c. 32, gives forty. 

2 Among other causes, the love affair of her daughter, for which see 
Las Casas, I, 170; D.I.E. 63, p. 430 e¢ seg. Herrera, I, 4, v. 

3 Las Casas (loc. cit.) says that the Spaniards were without arms and 
hence might have been easily annihilated, had Anacaona desired their 
destruction. But it is hardly conceivable that they should have remained 
unarmed among a population whose hostility they had abundant reason 
for fearing; Las Casas can only mean that they were without muskets 
and such more elaborate weapons. 

4 Herrera (loc. cit.) suggests deliberation. Diego Mendez (loc. cvt.), 
who is here perhaps the best authority, says definitely : ‘ Donde hallé el 
Gobernador, el cual me detuvo alli siete meses hasta que hizo quemar y 
ahorcar ochenta y cuatro Caciques, Sefiores de vasallos, y con ellos 4 
Nacaona la mayor Senora de la isla, 4 quien todos ellos obedecian y servian.’ 
His time of waiting would have been impressed upon the memory of Diego 
Mendez. 


20 GOVERNMENT OF NICOLAS DE OVANDO 


force was surrounded by overwhelming numbers, and the natives 
of Xaragua, whose superior physique had already been noted © 
by the Spaniards, were the most warlike of the peoples of 
Espafiola.t Even in an open fight, the success of Ovando would 
have been doubtful ; surprised, his defeat would have been almost 
certain. And even if victory had been at last attained, it would 
in all probability have been at the cost of a long and arduous war, 
such as that which was later waged in Higuey ; the efforts made 
by the remnant of Anacaona’s forces, after they had been deprived 
of their chief leaders and terrorised by the blow which had been 
struck, sufficiently indicates what would have been the character 
of a struggle against the whole strength of her state.2~ Ovando 
may well have argued that his action was dictated by necessity 
and justified by the circumstances in which he was placed, and 
by the canons of the age in which he lived. 

The execution of Anacaona herself, by which the wrath of 
Isabella seems to have been more especially aroused, was the 
natural outcome of the conviction of Ovando that a plot had 
been formed. She was guilty of treason and the normal punish- 
ment for treason was death, nor can her hanging be regarded as 
unjustified, unless the whole position of Spain in Espafiola be 
held to be illegitimate. That she was not at once executed, but 
brought to Santo Domingo and there placed upon trial, is im- 
portant. It may be admitted that in this case, as in all treason 
trials in all lands at that time, condemnation was certain, but 
the mere fact of the trial indicates that Ovando desired to give 
justice, as justice was understood in that age.3 | 

Indeed, so far as his military operations against the Indians 
are concerned, the recorded acts of Ovando afford a very slight 
basis for a general charge of cruelty towards the natives. Far 
more serious, is the accusation based upon the general character 
of his administration. Las Casas * declares that Ovando invented 
the system of repartimientos, by means of which he deprived 


1 Las Casas, I, 114;-D.1.E. 63, p. 138 ef seg. Herrera, I, 3, v. 

2 For the resistance after Anacaona’s capture, see Las Casas, II, 10; 
D.LE. 64, pp. 56-59. 

3 Ovando is said to have prepared a defence of his conduct, but that 
defence appears not to have been preserved. It may, however, form the 
basis of the scandalous character sketch of Anacaona given by Oviedo 
(V, 3). ‘Esta fue una muger que tuvo algunos actos semejantes, 4 los 
de aquella Semiramis reyna de los asirios,’ etc. i 

4 Las Casas, II, 10; D.I.E. 64, pp. 58-59; and other passages. 


GOVERNMENT OF NICOLAS DE OVANDO 21 


the Indians of the liberty which Isabella intended them to enjoy 
and reduced them to slavery. He adds that Ovando depopulated 
whole villages ; that he neglected alike the moral and the material 
welfare of the natives, and that he must be held ultimately 
responsible for the death of some three million persons. Later 
writers, while admitting that the figures given by Las Casas are 
exaggerated, have repeated his charges. It has been asserted 
that Isabella declared the Indians absolutely free, but that by 
misleading her as to the conditions prevailing in the island and 
by availing himself of the dubiety of some of the orders which 
he received, Ovando secured the denial of that liberty, and so 
modified the repartimiento system as to change the condition 
of the Indians ‘from serfdom to slavery.’! 

In these charges there is an element of undoubted truth ; 
there is also an element of undoubted exaggeration. The 
character of the royal ordinances, and the conduct and motives 
of Ovando, have almost certainly been misrepresented both by 
Las Casas and by those who have so faithfully followed his 
guidance. It may be asserted that the Indians were never 
intended to be as free as has been suggested, and that the modi- 
fications in their position, which were introduced during the 
period of Ovando’s government, were neither so great nor so 
disastrous for the natives as has been supposed. 

There are four royal ordinances dealing with the position of 
the Indians during the period of Ovando’s rule. In the instruc- 
tions issued to him prior to his departure for the Indies, it was 
laid down that the natives were not to be maltreated ; that they 
were to pay royal dues, and finally, that their labour was to be 
used for the collecting of gold and for other purposes; ‘ you 
shall compel them to work in our service, paying to each one 
the wages which you shall consider that they ought justly to 
have.’ 2 It is to be noted that there is here no question of the 
Indians being free to choose whether they would work or no. 
It was, indeed, contrary to the whole spirit of the age that anyone 
should be allowed to be idle; the advantage, if not the dignity, 
of labour was universally recognised. 

A second ordinance,® issued after Ovando’s departure but 
probably before any detailed account of the condition of the 


1 Moses, Hstablishment of Spanish Rule in America, p. 93. 
‘2 Cp. supra, p. 5, and note. 
3 Zaragosa, March 29, 1503. D.I.I. (i) 31, p. 156 eé seg. 


22 GOVERNMENT OF NICOLAS DE OVANDO 


island had been received from him,! provided for the organisation 
of the Indians in pueblos. The natives were to live in these 
settlements with their families, and care was to be taken for their 
religious and secular instruction and provision made for their 
relief in sickness. The caciques were to be prevented from mal- 
treating their dependants,? and finally the Indians were only to 
work for wages and voluntarily : 


“you shall not consent nor allow the Christians who are in the said 
Indies to take from the said Indians their wives or sons or daughters, 
or to do to them any other personal wrong or injury, nor to wrong 
them in the matter of their lands ; nor shall they be allowed to make 
use of the services of the Indians as they have done hitherto, provided 
that they may have their service if the Indians come of their own 
accord and are paid the wages which may be just, as they shall be 
settled by our said governor.’ 3 


At first sight, this ordinance appears sensibly to modify the 
original instructions given to Ovando and to make labour purely 
voluntary for the natives. There is. some reason, however, to 
believe that no modification was intended. On the same date 
as that on which this ordinance was issued, secret instructions 
were drawn up for Ovando, to explain the meaning which was to 
be attached to its provisions. In these instructions, he was 
urged to see that some of the proposed pueblos should be situated 
near the mines, in order that the collection of gold might be 
facilitated,® and it was added that the natives were to be drawn 


1 A letter had been received, since a cedula of the same date is an answer 
to it (D.I.I. (11) 5, No. 10, p. 43 et seq.), but this cedula mentions that 
a memorandum from Ovando has not been received, and it is probable 
that the governor’s first report was lost in the hurricane which destroyed 
the greater part of the fleet which had escorted Ovando to the Indies 
(cp. Fabie, op. cit., p. xlv.). 

2 “Non consienta nin dé lugar que los caciques maltratan nin fagan 
nenguna opresion a los dichos yndios’ (D.1I.I. (i) 31, p. 161). 

3 ‘Non consienta nin dé lugar que los cristhianos questan en las dichas 
Indias, thomen de los dichos yndios sus mugeres nin fixos nin fixas, nin 
les fagan otro nengun mal nin dapfio en sus personas, nin en sus tierras ; 
nin consientan que se sirvan dellos como fasta aqui lo an fecho, salvo que 
viendo los dichos yndios por su propia voluntad e pagandoles les xornales 
que xusto fuesen, sygun que por el dicho Nuestro Gobernador fueren 
tasados’ (D.L.I. (i) 31, p. 159). 3 

4 Cartagena, March 29, 1503. D.IL.I. (i) 31, pp. 174-179. 

> ‘'Trabaxad que algunas de las poblaciones de los yndios que vos 
Mandamos facer, se fagan cerca de las dichas minas donde se falla el oro, 
porque faya lugar de se coger mas’ (D.I.J. (i) 31, p. 176). It may be 
added that in the ordinance concerning the pueblos, it is also laid down 


GOVERNMENT OF NICOLAS DE OVANDO 23 


to labour by all possible means.! It was certainly not contem- 
plated that they would cease to work, and perhaps no more was 
intended than that no extreme means of compulsion should be 
used and that the right of the natives to payment for work done 
should be more clearly emphasised. . Isabella probably supposed 
that the natives would work willingly, if assured that they would 
receive wages. 

This ordinance, however, seems never to have come into 
force, nor were the projected pueblos created. In the course of 
the same year, a report was received from Ovando that the 
Indians would not work voluntarily, and that they withdrew 
themselves from all association with the Spaniards, with the 
result that neither the work of conversion nor the production of 
gold could proceed.?,_ On receipt of this report, a fresh ordinance 
was issued,* in accordance with which the Indians were to be 
compelled to work, the caciques being made responsible for 
supplying the requisite number of labourers to those to whom 
the governor might assign natives.4. It was added that nothing 


that the Indians are to be serviceable to the crown: ‘para que fagan 
que los dichos yndios sirven en las cosas complideras a Nuestro servicio ’ 
(D.L.1I. (i) 31, p. 157). It appears to be possible that the intention was 
merely to prevent forced labour for private persons. 

1“ porquen los capitulos de les hordenanzas Ymbiamos a mandar 
algunas cosas que comple para la buena manera del venir, e rreximiento de 
los yndios, las quales cosas aunque sean buenas, por ser nuevas, a ellas 
podria ser que por agora non Vyniese a ello con buena volundad o que se les 
faga agravio, abeys de therner todas las maneras e templanzas que podiere 
ser, por atraer los dichos yndios a ello, de su gana e voluntad, e con le 
menos premisa que podria ser, porque non tomen rresabios de cosa alguna 
dello’ (D.1.1. (i) 31, p. 179). 

2 The refusal of the Indians to associate with the Spaniards and their 
flight to the mountains have been regarded as proof of their ill-treatment. 
Such a conclusion is hardly warranted by the experience of modern 
observers of the attitude of primitive races towards Europeans. 

3 Medina del Campo, December 20, 1503. D.I.I. (i) 31, pp. 209-212. 
The ordinance is given in full by Las Casas, I], 14; D.LE. 64, pp. 81-83. 

4 *“Compelays e apremieys a los dichos yndios, que traten e conversen 
con los cristhianos de la dicha isla; e trabaxen en sus edificios, e coxer 
e€ sacar oro e otros metales, e en facer granxerias e mantenymientos para 
los cristhianos vecinos e moradores de la dicha isla ; e fagays pagar a cada 
uno el dia que trabaxare, el xornal e mantenymiento que sygund la calidad 
dé la tierra e de la persona e del oficio, vos paresciere que debiere aber, 
mandando a cada cacique que thenga cargo de cierto numero de los dichos 
yndios, para que los fagays trabaxar donde fuere menester ’ (D.1.I. (i) 
31, pp. 210-211). 


24 GOVERNMENT OF NICOLAS DE OVANDO 


in this order should be taken to imply that the Indians were 
anything but free men, or to deny their right to receive 
wages. ! 

Upon these ordinances, the policy of Ovando towards the 
Indians was required to be based, nor is there any evidence 
that he departed either from their spirit or their letter. The 
suggestion that he did so, in so far as it is not the result either 
of apparent misreading of the documents or of undue insistence 
upon some isolated phrases in those documents, is based upon 
his use of the repartimiento system. Las Casas implies that, 
if the wishes of Isabella had been observed, the repartimientos 
would have been abolished.2 Abolition, however, was an im- 
possibility for various reasons. It would have entailed the 
economic ruin of the island. Native labour was a necessity, 
quite apart from any question of getting gold, for the raising of 
food-stuffs, and the Indians had shown that, left to themselves, 
they would neither sow nor reap.? Further, in the orders of 
Isabella, two cardinal points appear; the Indians were to be 
civilised and converted to Christianity, and they were to work, 
as free labourers, for such wages as the governor might deter- 
mine to be reasonable.4 The natives, however, endeavoured as 
far as possible to abstain from all labour and to avoid any inter- 
course with the Spaniards,> and hence a measure of compulsion 
was necessary if they were to be civilised, converted and trained 
to be ‘reasonable beings,’ according to the contemporary 
Spanish idea. On every ground, therefore, Ovando was obliged 
to find some means by which the natives might be controlled, 
and since the repartimiento system was already in existence, its 


1* Lo qual fagan e complan como personas libres, como lo son, e non 
como siervos,’ ete. (D.I.I. (i) 31, p. 211). 

2 Las Casas does not expressly say that the repartimientos were 
absolutely contrary to Isabella’s wishes, but he implies as much in various 
places, e.g. II, 12; 50; D.I.E. 64, p. 64 et seg.; 253 et seq. 

3 They had hoped to starve the Spaniards into leaving the island. 
Herrera, I, 5, xvii. 

4 D.1.1. (i) 31, p. 159. Las Casas rather slurs over Isabella’s anxiety 
that the natives should work, insisting upon her desire that they should 
not be enslaved and should be converted. 

° D.LI. (i) 31, pp. 209-210. Las Casas says that this ordinance was 
based upon a false report from Ovando (II, 12; D.I.E. 64, p. 64 ; ete.), but 
there seems to be no reason to believe that the natives were willing to 
work voluntarily. Even their own chiefs had to use some compulsion 
(cp. Las Casas, II, 7; D.I.E. 64, p. 41). 


GOVERNMENT OF NICOLAS DE OVANDO os) 


retention was the most obvious, if not the only, course to be 
adopted.1 

Ovando did retain the system, but he introduced into it 
certain modifications. Previously, both land and the Indians 
upon it had been granted to Spaniards, whose authority was 
exercised through the caciques. Ovando effected two impor- 
tant changes. Indians were assigned to Spaniards without the 
land upon which those Indians lived being also assigned. The 
immediate authority of the Spanish encomenderos was substituted 
for the authority of the cacique.? 

‘These changes have been attacked as converting serfdom 
into slavery, and as depriving the natives of their ‘ natural 
lords.’ The suggestion is that, so long as the Indians still lived 
in their own districts and under the control of their own chiefs, 
their lot presented some mitigating features. In this, there is 
a degree of truth, since it often happened that the natives were 
drawn away to a considerable distance from their homes and 
were thus unable to avail themselves of their intervals of leisure 
to visit their families.2 On the other hand, the destruction of 
the authority of the caciques was serviceable to the cause of 
good order in the island and probably to the advantage of the 
natives themselves. It is certain that compulsion to labour was 
the rule prior to the coming of the Spaniards, and that the yoke 
of the caciques was no light one.4 Putting the case against the 
Spanish settlers at its worst, the change was only from one 
tyranny to another, and’ while it may be true that the tyranny 
of the caciques was rather popular than the reverse with its victims, 


1 Repartimientos dated from the period of Bartholomew Columbus : 
they had been much increased by Bobadilla (cp. Moses, op. cit. p. 92 
et seq.) 

2The form of the grant of Indians under Ovando was as follows: 
‘A vos, fulano, se os encomiendan en el Cacique fulano, 50 6 100 indios, 
para que os sirvais dellos, y ensefaldes las cosas de nuestra sancta fe 
eatolica,’ or ‘A vos, fulano, se os encomiendan en el Cacique fulano, 
50 6 100 indios, con la persona del Cacique, para que os sirvais dellos en 
vuestras granjerias y minas, y ensefialdes las cosas de nuestra sancta fe 
eatolica’ (Las Casas, II, 13; D.I.E. 64, p. 71). 

3 Las Casas, II, 13, 14; D.I.E. 64, pp. 72, 77-79. 

4.1.1. (i) 31, p. 161. Las Casas, II, 7; D.I.E. 64, p. 41. In Mexico 
and Peru, slavery was practically the condition of the Indians prior to 
the conquest, and it may be supposed that conditions in Espanola were 
not essentially different (cp. Prescott, Conquest of Mexico, Introduction ; 
Conquest of Peru, Introduction ; and the authorities cited ; and Markham, 
History of Peru). 


26 GOVERNMENT OF NICOLAS DE OVANDO 


yet it can hardly be contested that it was to the advantage of 
the natives to be under the control of one whose misconduct 
could be punished, rather than under the control of a practi- 
cally irresponsible master. To place the Indians under the direct 
orders of the Spaniards was, in a measure, to place them under 
the central government, and thus to render possible the punish- 
ment of any unduly severe masters. And Ovando did punish 
such misconduct, either by depriving the guilty of their Indians 
or, in more flagrant cases, by sending the offenders back to 
Spain.1 If the condition of the natives were indeed one of 
slavery, it was at least of a mitigated slavery. There were 
means by which abuses could be remedied, and that they were 
remedied to some extent by Ovando would appear to be the 
fact, despite the invective of Las Casas. 

Las Casas, indeed, seems to have been led by his sympathy 
for the cause of the Indians to award blame to Ovando where 
he should rather have awarded praise. He blames him for his 
action in the matter of such Spaniards as married the daughters 
of caciques,? declaring that Ovando was guilty of grave injus- 
tice, penalising conduct which should have been rewarded and 
depriving the Indians of their natural lords. But it is clear that 
had the Spaniards been allowed to secure a species of hereditary 
right over the natives, a number of feudal lordships would have 
arisen in the island. If the natives were to be protected at all, 
it was essential that the Spanish settlers should be under con- 
trol; to control such feudal lords would have been difficult or 
impossible. Ovando seems rather to have merited in this case. 
the praise bestowed upon him by Ferdinand * than the blame 
bestowed upon him by Las Casas, and perhaps to have saved 
Espanola from drifting into a state of anarchy analogous to 
that from which Isabella had so recently rescued Castille. 

Nor was Ovando regardless of the physical unfitness of the 
Indians for severe labour. He wished at first to commit such 
labour to imported negroes, the sons of slaves born in Spain,# 
and only abandoned this idea when he found that the negroes 
merely added an element of disorder to the society of the 
island.§ : | 

Las Casas asserts that Ovando neglected the spiritual as well 


t Herrera, 105, xa 2 Cp. supra, p. 10. 
3 D.1.1. (i) 36, p. 258. 
2). (2) ale ps 2oee terreras lees cise 5 Herrera, 3135; xai: 


GOVERNMENT OF NICOLAS DE OVANDO 27 


as the material interests of the natives, but there seems to be 
no basis for these charges. The encouragement of the Fran- 
ciscan mission ! indicates a desire to carry out the work of con- 
version, and at the same time schools were established in the 
monasteries to such effect that Ferdinand found it necessary 
to prohibit the importation of ‘vain and scandalous books,’ 
lest the Indians should read them in preference to devotional 
literature. ? 

But if the work of education made some progress, the pic- 
ture of the Indians toiling day after day, without relaxation, for 
masters who cared no more for them than if they had been so 
many ‘stocks or stones, cats or dogs,’ would seem to be some- 
what highly coloured. The actual truth may be suggested in 
the opposition of Ovando to grants to absentees.2 In such 
cases, the repartimiento system was really pernicious to the 
Indians, and the more so since the punishment of misconduct 
was wellnigh impossible. But where the governor was able to 
exercise control, there is no conclusive evidence that the undue 
exploitation of the Indians was permitted. Stories of atrocities 
or of harshness of conduct which bordered on the barbarous 
are indeed told by Las Casas,4and have been repeated by later 
writers until they have become apparent facts, and until isolated 
acts of cruelty have been exaggerated into the uniform practice 
of all the Spanish settlers. 

There is, indeed, a certain spirit of exaggeration and care- 
lessness in very much which has been written as to the conduct 
of the Spaniards in the New World. For this, Las Casas must 
be held as largely responsible ; moderation and judgment were 
not included among his many virtues. A striking example of 
his intemperance, an intemperance which borders upon absolute 
disregard for truth, is to be found in his account of the importa- 
tion of the Lucayans into Espafiola.s He greatly exaggerated 


1 Cp. supra, p. 10, and note. 

2 Herrera, I, 6, xx. The establishment of schools was ordered by the 
ordinance of March 29, 1503 (Zaragosa), see D.I.I. (i) 31, pp. 160-161. 
The Indians were to learn to read, write and make the sign of the Cross, 
and to repeat the Pater-Noster, Credo and Salve Regina. 

3 Cp. supra, p. 10. 

' 4 An excellent example of these stories is to be found in Las Casas, 
Il, 40; D.LE. 64, p. 206. 

5 The story of the importation of the Lucayans is to be found in Las 

Casas, II, 43--45; D.1.E. 64, pp. 220-233. 


28 GOVERNMENT OF NICOLAS DE OVANDO 


the magnitude of the operation, stating that in four years 
40,000 and in ten years 1,200,000 natives were brought to 
Espafiola, in addition to such as were taken to Cubagua and 
Cuba. The present estimated total population of the Bahamas 
is 56,000, and it is incredible that in the early sixteenth century 
the adult population of those islands should have been any- 
where near one million. Las Casas himself seems to have felt 
that his figures would be suspected, since he is careful to give 
Peter Martyr as his authority and to explain how well informed 
on this point Peter Martyr was.} 

He further declares that the Lucayans were brought over in 
conditions of appalling barbargity, so that the route from the 
Bahamas to Espafiola could be traced by the dead bodies of 
those thrown overboard.? He adds that no effort was made to 
care for the natives in any way. But he says also that he 
personally heard the confessions of many, and that they were 
most devout Catholics, which argues that the gospel must have 
been preached to them.® 

But nowhere does the spirit» of carne appear more 
clearly than in the account which Las Casas gives of the de- 
cline of the native population of Espafiola. under the govern- 
ment of Ovando. He says that the governor was responsible 
for the death of some three million persons, since the original 
population of the island was four millions and at the close of 
Ovando’s rule only sixty thousand natives survived.* Else- 
where he says that the governor was responsible for the death 
of nine-tenths of the native population, which would reduce the | 


1 Las Casas (II, 44; D.I.E. 64, p. 225) quotes Peter Martyr, Dec. VII, 
Coos 

2 Las Casas, II, 44; D.LE. 64, p. 227. 

3 * Yo confesé y goin ullene y me hallé 4 la muerte de algunos dellos, 
despues que fueron baptizados é instruidos, y digo que suplico 4 nuestro 
Senor, Dios, que tal devocion y tales lagrimas y contriccion de mis pecados 
me dé al tiempo cuando su cuerpo y sangre rescibiere, y de mi fin y muerte, 
como en ellos me parece que sentia y cognoscia ’ (Las Casas, II, 45; D.I.E. 
64, pp. 232-233). It may be, of course, that Las Casas was here referring 
to such of the Lucayans as survived for a reasonable time in Espanola, but 
even so, on his own showing, they had received some religious instruction. 
Las Casas (II, 43; D.I.E. 64, p. 222) tells the story of the way in which 
the Lucayans were first deceived into embarking. It is hardly credible 
that a Spanish soldier of the sixteenth century should have had the wit 
to invent or the religious daring to tell the fable of the isle of the blessed. 

4 Las Casas, II, 18, 42; D.LE., pp. 101, 219. 


GOVERNMENT OF NICOLAS DE OVANDO 29 


original total to some half a million.! It may be doubted 
whether even this last figure is not an exaggeration, as the first 
figures certainly were, when it is remembered that the natives 
were neither industrious nor provident, and that their only tools 
were stakes hardened in the fire and used with little diligence. ? 

That the number of natives declined, and that they ultim- 
ately became extinct, is certain, but this fact may be explained 
without assuming that the Spaniards were guilty of atrocities. 
More recent examples serve to suggest that a race in a lower 
state of civilisation is always likely to disappear before the 
coming of a race in a higher stage, and there would seem to 
be every reason for supposing that this would naturally occur 
in Espanola. At the moment of the arrival of the Spaniards, 
the Indians appear to have been living a relatively idle and 
easy life, such labour as they performed being that demanded 
in a state of society in which wants are few because desire has 
not been developed. This life was suddenly and rudely inter- 
rupted. The natives were brought into contact with a condi- 
tion of things of which they had no previous knowledge, nor 
were their slow minds equal to the task of adjusting them- 
selves to the new order. They became the prey of melancholy, 
which was the more fatal in a race of admittedly low physique, 
since it made them the more liable to disease, a ready prey to 
yellow fever and to measles which seem to have scourged the 
island. 

And the progress of disease was aided by the action of the 
Indians themselves. When they found that the Spaniards in- 
tended to remain in the island, they attempted to drive them 
out by starvation, and for a while no crops were sown. The 
Spaniards did, it is true, presently compel them to resume 
cultivation, but land which had once been allowed to go out 
of cultivation cannot readily be brought back to its original 


1 Las Casas, loc. cit. 

2 Peschel, Das Zeitalter der Hntdeckungen (p. 4380), estimates the 
population of Espanola at the end of the fifteenth century at from 200,000 
to 300,000. Lannoy and Vander Linden, Histoire de ’ Expansion Coloniale, 
Portugal et Espagne (p. 371), regard this estimate as exaggerated. Las 
Casas reached his absurd figures by taking the original estimate of Columbus 
(one million), stating that Columbus only explored one-third of the island, 
and then. arguing that:if the population of one-third were one million, 
the total population must have been three millions, and then calmly stating 
that the total was three or four millions, and later four millions. 


30 GOVERNMENT OF NICOLAS DE OVANDO 


productivity, and this is especially true in the tropics. The 
natives who were growing to manhood during the first years of 
Spanish rule, were almost certainly under-nourished, less fitted 
than their fathers. would have been to resist the attacks of 
disease and the strain of unwonted labour, however little 
excessive that labour may have been. 

Nor does this exhaust the causes of the decline of the native 
population. From the very first, the Indian women were eager 
to become the mistresses of the Spaniards, and it was part of 
the policy of the Catholic kings to encourage intermarriage and 
the fusion of the two races.!_ With every increase in the Euro- 
pean population, the supply of women for.the natives became 
constantly less adequate. A half-breed race came into exist- 
ence, and it may be suggested that it was not so much that 
the natives, strictly speaking, died out as that the mestizo re- 
placed the Indian of full blood. In the estimates made of the 
numbers of the native population, no account was taken of the 
half-breeds, who were classed with the Europeans. ? 

Finally, there would seem to be some reason for thinking 
that in the greater part of the island the Indians were already 
a declining race. It was noted that the people of Higuey and 
Xaragua were more virile and more warlike than the inhabitants 
of other districts, and it is not improbable that they were in- 
_vaders from the mainland who were gradually exterminating or 
subjecting the earlier race. The excellent service rendered by 
Indian auxiliaries in the second war in Higuey seems to suggest 
rooted hatred. between the natives of different districts. The 
more warlike Indians fell before the Spanish attack, but the 
extinction of the more peaceful, already in progress, could not 
be arrested. Their day was past. The very softness and malle- 


1 The terms of the ordinance are noteworthy: .‘ Procuren como los 
dichos yndios se casen con sus mugeres en. haz de la Sancta Madre Iglesia ; 
e que ansi mismo procure que algunos cristhianos se casen con algunas 
mugeres yndias, e las mugeres cristhianos con algunos yndios, porque 
los unos e los otros se comuniquen e ensefien, para ser dotrinados en las 
cosas de Nuestra Sancta Fée Catholica, en si mismo, como labren sus 
heredades e entiendan que sus faciendas, e se fagan los dichos yndios e 
yndias, ombres e mugeres de rrazon’ (D.I.I. (i), 31, p. 164). 

2 ‘Et l’on peut dire que plus des trois quarts des Espagnols, qui com- 
posent aujourd’hui cette Colonie, descendent par les Femmes des premiers 
Habitants de I’Isle,’ says Charlevoix (op. cit. p. 268), writing in 1730, of 
the results of Ovando’s order compelling the Spaniards to marry their 
Indian mistresses (ep. also Fabie, op. cit. p. 1). 


GOVERNMENT OF NICOLAS DE OVANDO 31 


ability, which Las Casas so admired, appear to be indicative of 
decline, and decline appears still more clearly in the portrait 
of the Indian race, drawn by Oviedo. 


‘The Indian race,’ he says,/ ‘is by nature idle and vicious, little 
inclined to labour, melancholic, abject, vile and evilly disposed, lying 
and little provident, inconsistent. Many of them, as a pastime, 
poisoned themselves to avoid work, and others hanged themselves. 

If they have anything of good in them, it is while they are young, 
for no sooner do they come to puberty, then they give themselves up 
to abominable vices, and they are a people, such as those of whom 
the Gospel says, ‘‘ By their fruits, ye shall know them.” ’ 


It would be idle to contend that the Spaniards committed 
no acts of cruelty, or that they never exploited the natives for 
their own advantage. It would be still more idle to assert that 
evidence drawn from the history of one brief period in a single 
district can be applied to Spanish government throughout the 
New World during the three centuries of Spanish dominion. 
But, at the same time, a consideration of the administration 
of Ovando in Espafiola does appear to supply ample ground for 
questioning whether the divergence between theory and prac- 
tice was as great as has been generally supposed, and for sug- 
gesting that the denunciations of Las Casas should be far more 
liberally discounted than they have hitherto been. It is not 
too much to say that the charge of general, and still more the 
charge of deliberate, barbarity, which has been brought against 
the Spaniards, rests upon no satisfactory basis, and that these 
charges are at least non-proven. 

CECIL JANE. 


1 “Esta gente de su natural es ociosa 6 viciosa, é de poco trabajo, é 
melancolicos, 6 cobardes, viles é mal inclinados, mentirosos é de poca 
memoria, é de ninguna constancia. Muchos dellos, por su passatiempo, 
se mataron con pon¢ona por no trabajar, y otros se ahorcaron por sus manos 
proprias. . . . E si en ellos hay algun bien, es en tanto que llegan al 
pringipio de la edad adolescente ; porque entrando en ella, adolescen de 
tantas culpas é vicios, que son muchos dellos abominables. Assi que estos 
tales hombres, como dice el Evangelio, en los fructos dellos los conos¢ereis ’ 
(Oviedo, III, 6). 


BON 
nei 


y, 


hy 


aa 
bi 


aaa 


ARX CAPITOLINA 


THE purpose of this short paper is to call attention to a number 
of real difficulties in Tacitus’ account, as usually interpreted, of 
the circumstances which attended the conflagration of the temple 
of Iuppiter Capitolinus in the year a.p. 70, during the rioting 
between the Vitellians and Flavius Sabinus, brother of Vespasian 
and city prefect. These events are recounted by Tacitus in 
cc. 69-73 of the Third Book of his Histories. Our main conten- 
tion is that it was not the southernmost peak, the Capitolium 
proper, but the northern summit, the so-called ‘* Arx,” 1 which 
was selected by the defenders as their stronghold, and that the 
current misconception on this point affects not only the major 
part of the topographical detail but something much more 
important, namely, the view which the historian expressed of the 
catastrophe, a view which the orthodox interpretation does not 
allow fully and precisely to emerge. 

Two difficulties make this a complicated inquiry, firstly the 
scantiness of the detail to be found in ancient authors on the 
topography of this, the -wmbilicus of the Roman world, and 
secondly the fact that building, cutting away and levelling over 
an area relatively limited have undoubtedly altered the contour 
of the hill? It seems probable nevertheless that the latter 
factor may easily be exaggerated and that the serious difficulties 
in the received account will not be found to be referable to it. 
We may, that is to say, proceed confidently upon the basis of the 
main features as they still exist 7m situ, whether as a whole or in 
part, whether actually or by substitution. These are (1) The 

1 Now covered by the church and precincts of S. Maria in Ara Coeli. 

2 “Es gibt wenige Punkte im alten Rom, deren Topographie so im 
Dunkel liegt, wie die der Arx. Schon im Altertum fliessen die Nachrichten 
uber sie sparlich, da das Capitolium mit seiner grossen Fille von Tempeln 
sie tberstrahlte. Im Mittelalter wurde sie durch den Bau der Kirche und 
des Klosters Araceli und die Anlage der zu ihnen ftihrenden Aufgange 
ganzlich umgestaltet.’ Richter, Topographie von Rom, p. 119. Cf. 
Platner, Topography and Monuments of Ancient Rome, p. 295. 

A.S.—VOL. V. 33 D 


34 ARX CAPITOLINA 


Templum of luppiter Capitolinus. (2) The Arx. (3) Ascent to 
the Capitol on the |. side (along 8. wall) of the Tabularium. 
(4) Ascent to the Arx on the r. side (along N. wall) of the 
Tabularium. (5) The Piazza del Campidoglio=lucus asyli, 
roughly. 

Nor, be it said at once, is such a discussion concerned merely 
with the minutiae and hypothetical constructions of the topo- 
erapher. It is our aim to show that the received account, which 
assumes that the Vitellian assault was directed against the 
temple of Iuppiter Capitolinus, besides doing violence to the 
Latin of Tacitus and exposing itself to serious objection on the 
topographical ground, further obscures part of Tacitus’ moral 
reflection on the matter. The tenor of this was not merely that 
the Capitol, undevastated by Porsenna and the Gauls, was 
destroyed in the frenzied faction-fights of Romans, but also that 
its destruction was gratuitous, and unnecessary to the decision 
of the issue between Flavian and Vitellian. Quibus armorum 
causis, quo tantae cladis pretio ? asks Tacitus. What point has 
this question if the Flavians had entrenched themselves in or at 
the Temple, and if the storm and destruction of that stronghold 
had thus become essential to the victory of their opponents ? 
dvdoes ob telyyn mddic Might in this case well be the answer. 
It was, however, the casualness, the wantonness of this destruc- 
tion which is the keynote of Tacitus’ narrative. Indeed he leaves 
us in no doubt on this point by concluding his description of its 
burning with the significant sentence, ignored or misunderstood 
by his editors, sic Capitoliwm clausis foribus indefensum et 
indireptum conflagrauit. : 

The orthodox view has of necessity to content itself here and 
there with some degree of vague statement, but it at any rate 
conceives the object of the Vitellian attack as in some way or 
other the temple of Iuppiter itself. Let us first, then, recount the 
successive moments of occupation, attack and storm as told by 
Tacitus from c. 69 onwards. 

(a) c. 69. Sabinus . . . arcem Capitolii insedit mixto 
milite, etc. 

(6) c. 70-71. (Immediately upon the return of Sabinus’ envoy 


1 Summers (who criticises preceding English editors) gives no help. 
on any of the points here raised. Godley is admirably full on them and 
manfully faces most of the difficulties, with what success may be judged 
below. A good plan of the hill will be found in Platner, facing p. 292. 


ARX CAPITOLINA 35 


Martialis from his unsuccessful mission to Vitellius) furens miles 
aderat cito agmine, forum et imminentia foro templa praeteruecti 
erigunt aciem per aduersum collem usque ad primas Capitolinae 
arcis fores. 

(c) c. 71. Erant antiquitus porticus in latere cliui dextrae 
subeuntibus, in quarum tectum egressi saxis tegulisque Vitellianos 
obruebant . . . faces in prominentem porticum iecere et seque- 
bantur ignem ambustasque Capitolii fores penetrassent, ni Sabinus 
reuulsas undique statuas, decora maiorum, in ipso aditu uice muri 
obiecisset. 

(d) Tum diuersos Capitolii aditus inuadunt. 

(i) iuxta lucum asyli. 
(i1) qua Tarpeia rupes centum gradibus aditur. 
(111) nec sisti poterant scandentes per coniuncta aedificia 
quae ut in multa pace in altum edita solum 
Capitolii aequabant. 

(e) Fire first set to the houses (uncertain by whom), then 
spread to adjacent colonnades and then to the great temple 
itself. 

(f) c. 73. An entrance is at last forced : irrumpunt Vitelliani, 
etc. 

Now let us review these stages in the assault and consider 
their congruity with the notion that the main Vitellian attack 
was directed against the Temple. Nothing, one might have 
supposed, could be more explicit than the statement that Flavius 
Sabinus and his adherents occupied the Arx—the northern peak, 
and not the south-west summit, the Capitolium. The three 
expressions used by Tacitus in close succession, (@) arx Capitolil, 
(6) ad primas Capitolinae arcis fores, (c) ambustasque Capitolii 
fores, though they show the usual desire for variety of expression, 
yet all point the same way. How audaciously the supporters of 
the received view are prepared to manipulate the Latin language 
will best appear if we recite Godley’s note on this point (p. 184 
of his ed.). Says he: 


‘ Ancient writers call the northern summit (where now stands the 
Araceli church) the Arx, the S.W. distinctively Capitolium. It was 
this latter height which was occupied by Sabinus. ‘Tacitus describes 
it variously as arx Capitolii, Capitolina arx or Capitolium; but he 
uses arx simply in the sense of height or summit, and we must not 
therefore suppose that he is referring to the Arx, properly so called, 
which occupied the Northern elevation. What he means is the S.W. 


36 ARX CAPITOLINA 


part of the hill, on which the principal building was the great temple 
of Jupiter Capitolinus (itself called Capitolium below).’ 


Forbearing to traverse these statements in detail, we would 
suggest that common sense would assign the following unforced 
meanings to the expressions Arx and Capitolum, and that 
common sense is powerfully reinforced by the actual usage of 
Tacitus. Capitoliwm is used of the hill as a whole, including both 
peaks, and also of the S.W. peak and its temple. If it is desired 
to distinguish the former from the latter, the expression mons 
Capitolinus would naturally be employed. There are certain 
cases where Capitoliwum might even be especially used of the 
Arx, provided that the context lends itself to this, and any 
ambiguity is removed in c. 71, ambustas Capitola fores, by the 
fact that fores is a repetition! and its reference already indicated : 
but, we would urge, the expressions arz Capitol, arz Capitolina 
cannot conversely be referred to the Capitolium proper to the 
exclusion of the Arx proper. If it can, then the Latin language 
is on the way to attain a distinction alien to it as a concealer of 
thought. It is true that our initial conception of the stronghold 
of Sabinus is the Arx and not the Capitolium may prove to yield 
no consistent narrative ; it is true, moreover, that we know next 


1 Capitolium occurs fourteen times in the Annals, eleven of these 
references are unmistakably to the Temple, two to the hill as a whole ; 
the remaining reference is XI, 23 (of the Gauls), ‘ quid si memoria eorum 
moreretur qui sub Capitolio et Arce Romana manibus eorundem perissent 
satis’ (so Fisher’s text). Thus in the only context in which the hill is 
regarded as the scene of a conflict, Tacitus is careful to distinguish between 
the Capitolium and the Arx by using the common expression for the whole 
hill, Arx et Capitolium (see Richter, p. 118, Platner, p. 292), with a 
characteristic variant. In the Histories, outside the passage now under 
discussion, Capitolium is used fifteen times, whereof twelve clearly 
refer to the Temple, one (III, 78, Capitolit arcem) refers to this passage and 
must be interpreted in the light of it, though the epithet munitissimam 
there certainly appears to strengthen our interpretation ; what ‘ fortifica- 
tions’ had the Capitol proper beyond a surrounding wall? The other 
two (I, 39 and 71) might mean either the Capitolium proper or the whole 
hill. As to the fores, we do not understand whether the editors think of 
these as the gate of the Temple or as a gate giving access to the Asylum 
in general; Richter J.c. supposes that it was a gateway by which the 
clus Capitolinus, after reaching the level of the asylum or thereabouts, 
passed through the wall surrounding the Temple, ‘etwa beim Aufgang 
zum jetzigen Bogen des Vignola.’ He holds the orthodox view of the 
fighting, supposing apparently that only the Temple itself in the strict 
sense was defensible at that date. 


ARX CAPITOLINA 37 


to nothing of the nature of the Arx or of its relation to the temples 
on its site - Iuno Moneta (Livy VI, 20) and Concord (Livy XXII, 
33; XXVI, 23). Yet we are not therefore exempted from 
beginning at any rate with the idea of Flavius Sabinus establishing 
himself in the Arx proper, the traditional refuge of assailants of 
the established government from Appius Herdonius onwards, and 
going on to examine whether this conception is in all details 
consistent with the account of Tacitus. 

But before entering into detail, it should be noticed that a 
prior, we would expect Sabinus, or anyone else in like case, to 
seize upon the Arx proper, alone or together with the Capitolium. 
For, though no great military knowledge or tactical skill was 
shown by either party, we have no grounds for imagining that the 
most obvious of all precautions was neglected and an absolutely 
untenable post taken up by the defenders. The Arx is to-day 
a trifle the higher summit of the two (some nine metres above 
the Piazza del Campidoglio, to the Capitol’s eight) ; it then bore 
some considerable remnants at least of its ancient fortifications, 
on which artillery could surely have been mounted ; and while 
this arm of the Roman service was not yet so elaborated as in 
the time of Ammianus Marcellinus, still we have only to consult 
Vitruvius to perceive that the garrison of Rome must have had 
at its disposal the means of hurling missiles of considerable weight 
a much greater distance than the 250 metres or so which separated 
Tuno Moneta from Iuppiter Optimus Maximus. Had Sabinus 
really left the Arx unoccupied, and his opponents been anything 
better than madmen, a few hours’ work at getting ballistae and 
catapults into position would have brought the Temple about his 
ears without the loss of a man to his assailants. As it was, the 
position had to be carried from below by an infantry attack, 
apparently rather costly. 

But to return to topographical coneideenionst if the attack 
was made directly on the Arx, the Vitellians cannot have ascended, 
as Godley declares (p. 186) by 


‘the Cliuus Capitolinus, which very nearly corresponded with the 
present approach leading to the Piazza del Campidoglio from the south- 
west corner of the Forum, near the temple of Saturn and the shrines 
of the Di Consentes,’ 


1.€. approximately the Via di Monte Tarpeio. They must have 
ascended, not by the Cliuus, to the left (as one looks from the 


38 ARX CAPITOLINA 


Forum) of the Tabularium,! but by way of the Gradus Monetae,? 
assuming that they rose from near the temple of Concord to the 
gate of the Arx; at all events, by some route leading uphill from 
the r. of the Tabularium. They would thus pass not only the 
temple of Saturn and the Porticus Deorum Consentium, but also 
the temple of Concord itself, that is all those temples which could 
be described as imminentia foro, 1.e. near the Forum but on higher 
ground ; the phrase is that which Livy uses (I, 33, 8) to describe 
the situation of the Carcer. Their object was plainly to strike 
a sudden and decisive blow at the main body of Flavians on the 
Arx. Frustrated by the barricading of this route, they retrace 
their steps towards the Forum, and their main body attempts 
to reach the space between and below the two peaks by way of 
the Cliuus Capitolinus, which they had already passed. 

(c) and (d). If our version is so far well founded, then the 
porticus dextrae subeuntibus® must be placed near the head of the 
route, whether the Gradus Monetae or not, which led immediately 
to the Arx and its gate. According to the orthodox account they 
would be situated at or near the gate of the modern Palazzo del 
Senatore. This point, however, is far below the Capitoline Temple, 
and Godley admits (p. 187) that in the expression in Capitoli 
fores penetrassent “the proper meaning of Capitolium must be 
extended to the Tabularium.’ The orthodox account must 
- further accommodate itself to the necessity of supposing that * the 
Flavians had occupied not only the Capitolium proper, but also 
the building now known as the Tabularium.’ This may or may 
not seem a probable proceeding ; but we should not fail to notice 
that it is no more than an inference from the topography which 
the accepted interpretation requires. Hypotheses non sunt 
multiplicandae praeter necessitatem. 

(ec) Resuming and repeating, we contend that the Vitellians, 
baffled in their direct approach to the Arx—to the right (7.e. 


1 On the Tabularium, see Middleton, Ancient Rome, pp. 232, 236; 
Platner, p. 306, who gives further references to modern literature. It is 
curious that the former, who has been very generally followed, should 
label it ‘so-called,’ and the latter speak of it as ‘ not mentioned in litera- 
ture,’ in view of Verg. Georg. II, 501, insanumque forum et populi tabularia 
uidit, which so obviously refers to the view across the Forum from the 
Velia. See the remarks of Warde Fowler, Social Life at Rome, p. 17. 

2 Platner, pp. 295, 306. 

3 These colonnades have clearly no connexion with the orticus 
adpositas aedibus at end of c. 71. 


ARX CAPITOLINA 39 


along the N. wall) of the Tabularium—now descend again to the 
Forum and move westward. Their main attack is delivered at 
the earliest opening—propior atque acrior (wis) per asylum 
umgruebai—by way of the Cliuus Capitolinus (along the 8. wall 
of the Tabularium) which they had previously rejected as the 
less direct path to the Arx. A second body attempts an ascent 
at the Tarpeian rock, wherever that may be placed. But it was 
a third body clambering along the roofs of the houses who in their 
conflict with the defenders of the height brought about the 
destruction of the great Temple. On which side or sides of the 
Temple these houses were stationed it is difficult, and for our 
purpose unnecessary, to decide. 

(f) Irrumpunt Vaitelliani, etc. Where was this entrance 
effected ?1 Tacitus is clearly not here thinking of the Temple, 
for this, as cannot too often be repeated, although editors and 
commentators have not heeded the historian’s plain words at the 
end of c. 71, sve Capitolium clausis foribus indefensum et indirep- 
tum conflagrawit, was never the main object of attack. But 
neither again are we to think of the Arx, since prima irrup- 
tione at the beginning of c. 74 must correspond to irrumpunt 
in 73, and if it was possible to secrete Domitian in the lodging 
of the aedituus he cannot have been in the Arx. Jrrum- 
punt here clearly refers to the moment when the Vitellians 
gained the space now covered by the Piazza del Campidoglio. 
Tacitus omits to tell us (explicitly, since propior atque acrior per 
Asylum ingruebat is a significant indication) at what precise spot 
on the circuit of the hill this entrance was effected, and this 
negligence or reticence is entirely in his manner. His interest 
as usual is engaged by the human, ethical, psychological aspects 
of a great happening, and information is in this way withheld 
from us which is indispensable to the barest summary of the 
facts. For Tacitus the burning of the Capitol eclipses all other 
moments of the great catastrophe and, as usual with him on so 
elevated a theme, Vergilian reminiscences surge up through every 
chink of opportunity to employ them. It is this bias of the 
historian to the emotionally significant core of the event rather 


1 Middleton’s view (p. 240) that the Vitellians broke into the Capitol 
by. way of the long staircase of the Tabularium which he describes, p. 239, 
has little in its favour. The staircase led apparently straight into the 
Tabularium itself and through it to the Asylum (Richter, p. 131, Platner, 
p. 308). : 


40 ARX CAPITOLINA 


than to its hard facts which has misled his editors and commenta- 
tors into giving to the Temple a more central position in the siege 
of the Capitoline Hill than it did as a fact occupy. 

But this is not to say that the Capitol proper, or at least the 
walled precinct surrounding it, played no part in the fight. The 
Arx alone would be, not indeed quite as untenable as the Capitol 
alone, but exposed to very harassing fire from engines placed, 
as they might be if the other end of the hill were neglected, on 
the roof of the Temple of [uppiter Capitolinus or of one of the 
other shrines. It is incredible that Sabinus should not have had 
from the first some kind of outpost there, say a guard at each of 
the gates. Indeed by a little sublety one might make out that 
Tacitus says so. The Capitolina arx, he says, was occupied, or 
elsewhere, the arx Capitol. Now as Professor Postgate has 
pointed out with much ingenuity,! the combination of a substan- 
tive with an adjective or, what is much the same thing, a second 
substantive in the genitive case, results in a much more intimate 
blending of the ideas expressed by the two words in Latin than in 
our more analytical tongues. Aganippis Hippocrene is ‘ the pair 
of hippine springs, Aganippe-Hippocrene ’; Pelusiacus Canopus 
may be taken to mean ‘ all Egypt from one end of the Delta to 
the other.’ Tacitus furnishes us with examples of such a blend ; 
tormenta seruorum (Ann. IV, 29, 5) is not ‘torments of slaves,’ 
but ‘slaves under torture,’ 7.e. the slave-torture complex. So we 
might say, ara Capitolina or Capitoli is * the Arx-Capitol complex,’ 
2.e. the Capitoline Hill. That the headquarters of the Flavians 
were on the Arx proper is, however, as we think, sufficiently 
shown. 

Our view may be briefly resumed as follows. The Temple 
of Iuppiter Capitolinus was neither a stronghold of the defenders 
nor an objective of the assailants. As Tacitus says: ‘ It was 
burnt down though ungarrisoned and unplundered.’ Flavius 
established himself on the other peak— the Arx, and from that 
controlled the whole area of the hill—both peaks as well as the 
intermediate depression, the lucus asyli. The first attack of the 
Vitellians was directed from the Palatine against the Arx by way, 
probably, of the Gradus Monetae. Foiled here, they retreated 
to the Forum, and attempting the ascent by at least three points, 


1 Flaws in Classical Research, p. 9 sqq. Greek has the same usage, 
e.g. Aesch. Septem 348, Biayai aivatéccoa tév éntpactidiwy ‘wails of 
murdered babes.’ 


ARX CAPITOLINA 41 


broke into the area which is now the Piazza del Campidoglio along 
the road on the left of the Tabularium (the Cliuus Capitolinus). 
Whether our view be well founded or not, we claim at least to 
have demonstrated that the received story of these events, both 
in point of clearness and consistency, stands in need of radical 
revision. 


UGA. T. DAVIES. 
H. J. ROSE. 


[4 Note.—It is with the utmost regret that the Editorial Committee 
learn of the sudden death of Prof. Davies. A good scholar, a good Welsh- 
man, and a good colleague, he leaves a gap which it will not be easy to fill. ] 


JAMES HOWELL AGAIN! 


“ OF all literary hobbies nothing can compare with the pleasure 
of annotation.” 

Canon H. Maynard Smith, ‘The Early Life and Education 
of John Evelyn.’ 


In the following notes the page-references, as in the previous 
instalments in Vols. III. and IV. of the Studies, are to Joseph 
Jdacobs’s edition of ‘The Familiar Letters of James Howell,’ 
Vol. L, Text, 1890; Vol. II., Introduction, Notes, Index, 1892. 

The Vote, or a Poem-Royal, line 76, p. 8: 

. my Prince (my sweet black Prince). 


With this description of Charles II. in boyhood compare what Marvell 
wrote of him when a man: 
Of a tall stature, and of sable hue. 
‘An Historical Poem,’ 1.1. 
Queen Henrietta Maria, in a letter to Madame de St. George, described 
her baby as nozr. 


The Vote, or a Poem-Royal, lines 199-202, p. IL: 
May Justice still in her true Scales appear, 
And Honour fix’d in no unworthy Sphere ; 
_ Unto whose Palace all Access should have 
Through Virtue’s Temple, not through Pluto’s Cave. 
Book I., Sect. 3, 11., p. 146, When you go to Rome, you may 
haply see the ruins of two Temples, one dedicated to Virtue, 
the other to Honour; and there was no way to enter into the 
last but thro’ the first. 
We may compare ‘ Hudibras,’ II., i. 801-803, 
For as the Ancients heretofore 
To Honor’s Temple had no dore, 
But that which thorough Virtue’s lay. 


There was more than one temple of Virtus and Honos at Rome, the 
most famous being that outside the Porta Capena. 


1 For previous sections see Aberystwyth Studies, Vol. III., pp. 27-42. 
Vol. IV., pp. 39-48. 
43 


44 HOWELL’S LETTERS 


In |. 4 of the first passage of Howell the confusion between Plutus 
and Pluto is not unprecedented. It is just possible that Howell might 
have had some recollection of Spenser, F.Q. II., vii., where Mammon’s 
cave adjoins the gates of Pluto. 


To the knowing Reader touching Familiar Letters, ll. 19, 20, 


p. [13]: 
Which made the Jndian Inca think they were 
Spirits, who in white Sheets the Air did tear. 


See Purchas’s ‘ Pilgrimage,’ part I., ed. 3 (1617), p. 907, “‘ Columbus 
sent a Letter to reduce him unto peace by the Indians, who held the 
Letter in almost religious regard, thinking it had some Spirit or Deitie,. 
by which they could understand one another being absent.”’ 

Howell speaks of this belhef again in Book IV., 1., p. 644, “When 
the Spaniards at their first Coalition in the West-Indies did begin to. 
mingle with the Americans, that silly People thought that those little 
white Papers and Letters which the Spaniards us’d to send one to another 
were certain kind of Conjurers or Spirits that us’d to go up and down 
to tell tales, and make discoveries.”’ 


To the knowing Reader touching Familiar Letters, ll. 21-24, 
De isi 
The lucky Goose sav’d Jove’s beleagred Hill, 
Once by her Noise, but oftner by her Quill: 
It twice prevented, Rome was not o’er-run 
By the tough Vandal, and the rough-hewn Hun. 


Jacobs’s note on “twice prevented ”’ is “In Ep. Pr. a side-note gives. 
an off-hand reference to Livy. Dr. Gow suggests that the second occasion 
may be that referred to, Pliny, N.H. 10, 22, 36, § 81, or Plut. Camillus.” 

The ref. to Pliny should be 10, 22, (26), 51, “‘ Est et anseri vigil cura 
Capitolio testata defenso.”’ Something, however, has gone wrong with 
the editor’s note. The reference to Livy V. 47 has got attached to the 
preceding comment on “ Prester John.” Further, Dr. Gow’s suggestion 
is surely misrepresented. The passages in Livy, Pliny, and Plutarch’s. 
‘Camillus’ (ch. 27), all refer to the familar story of Brennus’s siege. 
Besides, Howell is not speaking of two occasions only. He says, appar- 
ently, that the geese saved Rome once by their gaggling and twice by 
means of their quills used in treaties or negotiations. 

Compare Bk. IV., i., p. 556, ‘““ You know also how the gaggling of 
Geese did once preserve the Capitol from being surpriz’d by my Country- 
man Brennus.... But the Goose-quill doth daily greater things, it 
conserves Empires ... the Quill being the chiefest instrument of 
Intelligence, and the Ambassador’s prime Tool.” 

If ‘“‘ Vandal”? and ‘‘ Hun” were used by Howell with a very general 
application, the two occasions might possibly be the sieges of Rome 
by the Goths in 408 and 409, when agreements with Alaric preserved. 
the city. Otherwise the ‘Hun ”’ reference ought to be to the negotia- 
tions with Attila in 452 in which he was persuaded by Pope Leo I. to 


HOWELL’S LETTERS 45 


spare Rome. Possibly the ‘‘ Vandal”’ refers to the year 455, when Leo’s 
intervention with Genseric, though failing to save Rome from being 
plundered, “‘ again mitigated the fierceness of a Barbarian conqueror.” 


To the knowing Reader touching Familiar Letters, ll. 33, 34, 
p. 14: 
Lawyers, as Vultures, had soar’d up and down ; 
Prelates, like Magpies, in the Air had flown. 


For “ Magpies,”’ with reference to the episcopal chimere and lawn 
sleeves, compare “The True Informer,’ &c., Oxford, 1643, p. 12, as 
quoted in Z. Grey’s note on * Hudibras,’ I., ii., 530, “.. . a dog with 
a black and white face was called a bishop.” ! 


Book I., Sect. 1, i., p. [17], Indeed we should write as we 
speak; and that’s a true familiar Letter which expresseth 
one’s Mind, as if he were discoursing with the Party to whom 
he writes, in succinct and short Terms. 


Compare Seneca, ‘ Epist.’? 75, 1, “‘Qualis sermo meus esset, si una 
sederemus aut ambularemus, inlaboratus et facilis, tales esse epistulas 
meas volo, quae nihil habeant accersitum nec fictum.”’ 


bookele “sect. 1, 1), p- 18 . . . insomuch, that it may be 
said of them, what was said of the Echo, That she is a mere Sound 
and nothing else. 


Jacobs’s note is “‘ Hcho, a reference to Vox et preterea nihil, though 
the Greek original refers to the nightingale.” 

The Greek original of ‘“ Vox es, praeterea nihil” is in Plutarch, 
‘Apophthegmata Laconica,’ 2334, ®wrda té tic éoor xai obdév GAAo. But 
may not Howell have been thinking of Ovid, ‘Met.’ 111., 398 sq., 
where the metamorphosis of the nymph Kcho is described ? 

Vox tantum atque ossa supersunt. 
Vox manet. Ossa ferunt lapidis traxisse figuram. 


Book I., Sect. 1, ii., p. 19, I should be much wanting to 
myself, and to that Obligation of Duty, the Law of God, and his 
Handmaid Nature, hath imposed upon me, if I should not . . . 


See Sir John Davies, ‘ Nosce teipsum,’ ‘ Of the Soule of Man, and the 
immortalitie thereof,’ lines 433-434, 


But as God’s handmaid, Naiure, doth create 
Bodies in time distinet, and order due. 
Compare the ‘ancilla Domini’ of St. Luke, i. 38. 


Book I., Sect. 1, iv., p. 22, I could not shake hands with 
England, without kissing your hands also. 


1 Grey’s citation is inexact. It should run “a dog with blacke and 
white spots.” 


46 HOWELL’S LETTERS 


To the N.E.D.’s examples of shaking hands as a sign of leave-taking 
may be added that from Sir T. Browne, ‘ Religio Medici,’ Part I., Sect. 3, 
“Yet have I not so shaken hands with those desperate Resolutions 

. as to stand in Diameter and Swords point with them.”’ 

It is Swinburne’s 

‘Take hands and part with laughter, 
Touch lps and part with tears.”’ 


Book I., Sect. 1, iv., p. 23, The news that keeps greatest 
noise here now, is the return of Sir Walter Raleigh from his 
Mine of Gold in Guiana. 

Book I., Sect. 1, v., p. 26, ... that Philosophical Problem 
which keeps so great a noise in the Schools. 

Book I., Sect. 1, xxvii., p. 63, We pass’d also by Aina, 
by the Infames Scopulos, Acroceraunia, and thro’ Scylla and 
Charybdis, about which the ancient Poets, both Greek and Latin, 
keep such a Coil. 

Book I., Sect. 3, xi., 157, The late taking of Ormus by the 
Persian from the Crown of Portugal keeps a great noise here. 


‘ Hudibras,’ I.,111., 183, can certainly be quoted for to “ keep a coil ”’: 
He rag’d and kept as heavy a coyl as 
Stout Hercules for loss of Hylas. 

Still, when Howell wrote of “‘ keeping a noise”? he was apparently 
clothing a familiar Welsh idiom in an English dress. A Welsh under- 
graduate has been known to puzzle his professor by producing “ Why 
are you keeping this noise here ?”’ as a translation of “ Quid tibi, malum, 
hic ante aedis clamitatiost ?”’ 

To keep a noise, as Prof. T. Stanley Roberts informs me, is cadw stir. 
Howell, though confessing (Bk IV., xiv.) that ‘“‘I am not vers’d in my 
maternal Tongue so exactly as I should be,” says that “the old British ” 
is not entirely driven out of his memory. 


Book I., Sect. 1, v., p. 26, . . . the Ground here [in Holland], 

which is all ’twixt Marsh and Moorish, lies not only level but 
to the apparent Sight of the Eye far lower than the Sea ; which 
made the Duke of Alva say, That the Inhabitants of this Country 
were the nearest Neighbours to Hell (the greatest Abyss) of 
any People upon Earth, because they dwell lowest. 
_ This seems to have been a favourite gibe at the Dutch. We have 
it again in Owen Felltham’s ‘A Brief Character of the Low-Countries,’ 
the second paragraph of which begins thus: “Says one, it affords the 
people one commodity beyond all the other Regions; If they die in 
perdition, they are so low, that they have a shorter cut to Hell than the 
rest of their Neighbours.” 

Book I., Sect. 1, viii, p. 31, For tho’ you be in Ozford, and 
I at Leyden . . . yet those swift Postilions, my Thoughts, find 


HOWELL’S LETTERS 47 


you out daily, and bring you unto me: I behold you often in 
my Chamber, and in my Bed; you eat, you drink, you sit 
down, and walk with me; and my Fantasy enjoys you often 
mmy Sleep- 

Compare King John, III., iv. 93 sq., 

Grief fills the room up of my absent child, 
Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me. 

I have suggested elsewhere that Shakespeare may have been influenced 
by a recollection, unconscious or otherwise, of Baptista Mantuanus, Eclogue 
lll., 93, 

Mea pectora imago 
Virginis obsedit ; mecum est, mecum itque reditque. 

-Excubat et dormit mecum. 

See also Gray’s Letter to Richard West, Aug. 22, 1737, “‘ Low spirits 
are my true and faithful companions; they get up with me, go to bed 
with me, make journeys and returns as I do ; nay, and pay visits, and will 
even affect to be jocose, and force a feeble laugh with me; but most 
commonly we sit alone together, and are the prettiest insipid company 
in the world.” !  . j 

Book I., Sect. 1, xiii., p. 38, If you have gain’d such a place 
amongst the choicest Friends of mine, I hope you will put me 
‘somewhere amongst yours, tho’ I but fetch up the rear, being 
contented to be the infirma species, the lowest in the Predica- 
ment of your Friends. 

In his note Jacobs restores the correct reading of the earlier editions, 
infrma species. Compare Owen’s Epigram, 

Species infima. 
Sit licet humanum genus inter cetera summum ; 
Jure tamen species infima dictus homo. 
In coelo minima est hominum pars, maxima in Orco ; 


Humanum infelix quis neget ergo genus ? 
Lib. iv. (ad D. Arbellam Stuart), 185. 


Book ieesect, I xxxvi., p. 79) Before I conclude; Twill 
acquaint you with a common Saying Halse is used of this dainty 
City of Venice : 

Venetia, Venetia, chz non te vede non te Pregia, 
Ma chi tha troppo veduto te Dispreggia. 
Compare ‘ Love’s Labour’s Lost,’ IV., 11., 
Venetia, Venetia, 
Chi non ti vede, non ti pregia. 
Malone quotes from Florio’s ‘Second Frutes’ (1591), 
Venetia, chi non ti vede, non ti pretia ; 
Ma chi ti vede, ben gli costa. 


a D. C. Tovey in his edition of ae seve suspected that Gray 
had latent in his mind Cicero, ‘ Pro Archia,’ 7, 16, ‘‘ pernoctant nobiscum, 
peregrinantur, rusticantur.”’ 


48 HOWELL’S LETTERS 


Book I., Sect. 2, xiii, p. 114, A Gentleman told me, that 
the Women of this Country, when they are deliver’d, there 
comes out of the Womb a living Creature besides the Child, 
call’d Zucchie, likest a Bat of any other Creature, which the 
Midwives throw into the Fire, holding Sheets before the Chimney 
lest it should fly away. 


See ‘ Hudibras,’ Part III., Canto ii., lines 145, 146, 
For Knaves and Fools b’ing near of Kin, 
As Dutch-Boors are t’a Sooterkin. 

Zachary Grey prints this note on the passage, “It is reported of 
the Dutch women, that, making so great use of stoves, and often putting 
them under their petticoats, they engender a kind of ugly monster which 
is called a sooterkin. See Cleveland’s Character of a London Diurnal, 
Works, 1677, p. 103.” 

The passage in Cleveland is quoted by the ‘N.E.D.,’ s.v. Sooterkin, 
“There goes a Report of the Holland Women, that together with their 
Children, they are delivered of a Sooterkin, not unlike to a Rat, which 
some imagine to be the Off-spring of the Stoves.” 

The ‘N.E.D.’ derives this word in the sense of Sweetheart from 
a Dutch or Flemish *soetekijn (soet=sweet), and suggests a connexion 
with soot in the curious sense of the above passage, adding that there 
is apparently no similar term in Dutch. But Howell’s Zucchie would 
seem to be the echo of some name that he had heard in Holland. Could 
midwives have used a word like soetekijn to avoid a more ill-omened 
name? Professor H. J. Rose has referred me to H. Ploss and P. Bartels, 
‘Das Weib in der Natur- und Volkerkunde.’ Here, Vol. 11 (9th edition), 
chap. liu, ‘Die Ethnographie der Nachgeburtsteile,’ is a wealth of infor- 
mation. In § 352 are parallels to the Dutch custom mentioned by Howell. 
For the stove part of the superstition which reminds one of Scott’s note 
on Canto ITI., v. of ‘The Lady of the Lake,’ 

‘‘Of Brian’s birth strange tales were told,” 
Prof. Rose refers to Sir J. G. Frazer’s ‘Golden Bough,’ ‘The Magic 
Art and the Evolution of Kings,’ vol. 11., 195 sq. (3rd ed.), where the - 
legends of the birth of Romulus, Servius Tullius, &c. are discussed. 


Book I., Sect. 3, xxxiii., p. 205, With this miraculous Accident, 
he told me also a merry one; how a Captain that had a wooden 
Leg booted over, had it shatter’d to pieces by a Cannon-bullet : 
His Soldiers crying, A Surgeon, a Surgeon, for the Captain ; 
No, no, said he, A Carpenter, a Carpenter will serve the turn. 

Zachary Grey gives a somewhat different version of the story in 
his note to ‘ Hudibras,’ I., iii., 538. 

Book I., Sect. 4, iv., p. 216: 

To my Cousin, Mr. Rowland Gwin. 

Cousin, 

I was lately sorry, and I was lately glad, that I heard 
you were ill, that I heard you are well.—Your affectionate 
Cousin, . sieved Uf 


HOWELL’S LETTERS 49 


The raison @Wétre of this trivial letter, it should be noted, is that it 
reproduces in a prose form the versus correlativi. Numerous examples 
of the latter exist, among the most familiar being Pentadius’s distich 
on Virgil, 2 

Pastor arator eques pavi colui superavi, 
Capras rus hostes fronde ligone manu. 
(There are varieties of reading in the above.) 

A most fearsome specimen is to be found on p. 20 of Jakob Werner’s 

*Lateimische Sprichworter und Sinnspriiche des Mittelalters,’ 
Dilige luxuriam vicium cole destrue sanctos. 
Virtutes fuge sperne deum sacra non venerare. 

The curious reader may consult Reusner’s ‘ Aenigmatographia,’ 

Part 11 (1601), pp. 181-187. 


Book I., Sect. 4, v., p. 216, If you are in health ’tis well ; 


-we are here all so. 


See Seneca, Hpist. 15, 1, ‘“ Mos antiquis fuit usque ad meam servatus 
aetatem, primis epistulae verbis adicere: ‘Si vales bene est, ego valeo,’ ”’ 
and Cicero, Ep. ad Fam. XIV., xiv.—xvii., xxi._xxiv., and elsewhere. 


Book I., Sect. 5, i1., p. 248, I send you herewith a couple 
of red Deer Pies. .. . I pray let the Sydonian Merchant, Jo. 
Bruckhurst, be at the eating of them, and then I know they 
will be well soak’d. 


Jacobs says “why Sydonian I know not.’? It might be suggested 
that Sydonian (= purple) is a reference to Bruckhurst’s complexion, 
as that of a hard drinker. Compare K. Hen. IV., Pt. I., I.,1., ‘‘ none 
of those mad mustachio purple-hued malt-worms.” If ‘‘ Merchant ”’ 
is merely figurative, meaning that Bruckhurst dealt in purple after this 
fashion, we might compare Dickens’s description of the greasy-faced 
Chadband, laying about him prodigiously, as ‘“‘a kind of considerable 
Oil Mills, or other large factory for the production of that article on 
a wholesale scale.” | 


Book I., Sect. 5, ix., p. 256, To the nutrition of the Body, 
there are two essential conditions requir’d, Assumption and 
Retention ; then there follows two more, zéyic and modctapts 
[sec], Concoction and Agglutination, or Adhesion. 


ITodatayig is a vow nihili. The first edition has the impossible 
nospotc. I conjecture the word meant to be agdogvaic, as in Aristotle, 
‘Probl.’ ii. 3, év tH noooqgice: thc toopys meds “ia xal tac Cdexac. 

Book I., Sect. 5, ix., p. 257, But among these Studies you 
must not forget the unicum necessarvum; on Sundays and 
Holidays, let Divinity be the sole object of your speculation, 
in comparison whereof all other Knowledge is but Cobweb- 
learning ; pre quad quisquilie cetera. 

A.§ —VOL. V. | E 


50 HOWELL’S LETTERS 


For the first Latin expression see St. Luke, x., 42, * Porro unum 
est necessarium... Maria optimam partem elegit, quae non auferetur 
ab ea.”’ Wherever, Howell picked up “ pre qua” &c., it may.be traced 
to Petronius, 75, “‘ Corcillum est quod homines facit, cetera’ quisquilia 
[texts in Howell’s time, and long afterwards had quisquiliae} omnia,” 
which Friedlander translates in an ingeniously idiomatic style “ Das 
Bischen Grtitze im Kopf ist es, was die Menschen macht, alles tibrige 
ist Quark.’’ Howell uses the phrase again, Bk. III., iv., p. 519. | 


Book I., Sect. 5, x1‘, 261, Like Sertorius’s Soldier, who when 
he could not cut off the Horse-tail with his Sword at one blow, 
fell to pull out the hairs one by one. | 


This is a perverted form of the story. Im the original, told by 
Plutarch in his life of Sertorius, 16, the general teaches his Spanish 
followers that more is accomplished by perseverance than by force, 
by giving them the object-lesson of a strong man vainly attempting 
to pull out the tail of a broken-down horse, while a feeble man plucks 
the tail of a powerful horse, hair by hair. aa 


Book I., Sect. 5, xi., p. 263, All your Friends here are well, 
Tom Young excepted, who I fear hath not long to live among 
us. 3 


Jacobs makes an unlucky attempt at identification, remarking 
“perhaps the one whose initials formed part of the well-known 
SmecTYmnuus. A: ‘letter to him later, p. 371.” 

In his note on this last Jacobs is more confident, as he then writes, 
‘“Probably Milton’s friend.’’ Probability is all ‘the other way. The 
letter, dated 28 April, 1645, is addressed “‘ Zo Tho. Young, Esq.’ In 
1645 Milton’s friend the Rev. Thomas Young was Master of Jesus 
College, Cambridge, and a member of the Westminster Assembly. The 
letter in which Howell suggests that’ Tom Young has not long to live 
is dated “* York, the 1 of Aug. 1628.” In March, 1628, the Puritan divine 
was presented to the living at Stowmarket, in Suffolk. - 


Book I., Sect. 5, xv., p. 266, My Lord President of the North 
hath lately made me Patron of a Living hard by Henley, call’d 
Hambledon ; it is worth £500 a year communibus annis; and 
the now Incumbent, Dr. Pilkinton, is very aged, valetudinary, 
and corpulent. 


‘“ Dr. Pilkinton, perhaps the one mentioned Nichols’s Prog. i. 172.” 
Jacobs. There can be no dispute about the identity of this rector of 
Hambledon. . Dr. Richard Pilkington, who held the living for 35 years, 
was a well-known controversialist of his day. There is an account of 
him in the ‘ Athenz Oxonienses,’ though Wood was not aware of all 
his preferments. ‘ He is noticed by the ‘D.N.B.” The Pilkington in the 
‘ Progresses ’ (King James’s, not Elizabeth’s) i., 172, isa “ Mr. Pilkington ” 
at whose house in Leicester the King’s daughter lay (June 22, 1603) 


HOWELL’S: LETTERS 51 


on her journey from Scotland. Possibly he was the John Pilkington 
of Leicester in the ‘Calendars of Wills and Administrations relating to 
the County of Leicester,’ under the Administrations of 1625. See vol. 
27 of ‘The Index Library.’ 


Book I., Sect. 5, xv., p. 266, Dr. Dommlaw and. two or three 
more have been with me about it, but I always intended to make 
the first proffer to you. al : 


“It ” is the living of Hambledon. Dr. Dommlaw one would naturally 
take to be a Doctor of Divinity anxious to obtain the preferment. Jacobs’s 
note is: ‘‘ Dr. Dommlaw, not mentioned in the Athenee. Perhaps the 
Dr. Dorislaw afterwards murdered by the royalists abroad as a regicide 
(Wood, Athene, iii., 666).” | 

This guess entirely misses the mark. Joseph Foster’s * Alumni 
Oxonienses’ has an entry for “ John Domelaw, M.A. of Cambridge, 
incorp. Ox. 15 July, 1617, rector, of Hambleton, Bucks, 1631.” Dr. 
John Venn and J. A. Venn’s ed. of the ‘Book of Matriculations and 
Degrees, 1544-1659” gives us his College, Christ’s,. and the date when 
he graduated as Doctor of Divinity, 1636. Domelaw is to be found, 
of course, in Peile’s *‘ Biographical Register of Christ’s College, 1505-1905.’ 
At an early stage of his Academic career his name appears as “‘ Dumelaw.”’ 
He was elected to a fellowship at Corpus in 1617, and there is more 
about him in Masters’s History of that College. 

The well-known Isaac Dorislaus was not a divine but a lawyer. 

In ~ Notes and Queries,’ 12th Series, Vol. xii., pp. 194, 377, I have 
shown that the account of Dorislaus’s father given by the “ D.N.B.’ 
rests on some misunderstanding. 


Book I., Sect. 5, xxii., p. 272, . . . yet I was hardly drawn 
to such a task at this time, in regard that many businesses 
puzzle my Pericraniwm.—Aliena negotia centwm per caput & 
circa saliunt latus. 


Cp. T. L. Peacock, ‘Headlong Hall,’ chap. I., “.. . the various 
knotty points which had puzzled his pericranium.”’ 
SAlsena-. . . latus.” Horace, “Sat.” II.,. Wilog, Bxa5 ays 


Book: I., Sect. 5, xxiv., p. 275, I have read of a King of 
Navarre (Charles le Mauvais) who perish’d in strong waters. 


Accounts of his death vary. According to Froissart, 

‘“‘He was an aged man aboute a threscore yere of age/and of vsage 
his bedde was wont to be chafed with a bason with hote. coles/to make 
hym swete/whiche often tymes he vsed/and dyd hym no hurte. At 
this tyme his seruaiites dyd the same/but outher as god wolde or 
the deuyll/a burnynge flame toke in the shetes/in suehe maner that 
or he coulde be reskewed he was brente to the bowels/he was: so 
wrapped bytwene the shetes. So that he lyued fyftene dayes after in 
great payne and mysery/in so moche that physyke nor surgery coulde 


52 HOWELL’S LETTERS 


helpe hym/ but that he dyed. This was the ende of the kynge of 
Nauerre.”’ 

Lord Berners’s Translation, Pynson, 1523-1525, 

Part II., cap. exvi. (cxi.), fol. exxx1., recto. 

The version of the story which Howell had read agrees with that 
in Robert Gaguin’s ‘Rerum Gallicarum Annales,’ lib. ix., p. 178, in 
the Frankfurt ed. of 1577, ‘Cum longe senex esset, & calore defectus, 
lintheo illum insuendum, & aqua, que viua dicitur, perfundendum 
quidam suaserunt,”’ &c. The king’s attendant, we are told, whose business 
it was to stitch him up at night, tried to burn off the end of the thread 
in the candle and set fire to the sheet. By whatever way, Charles the 
Bad died in 1387. 


Book I., Sect. 5, xxxii., p. 283, Because Mr. Hawes of 
Cheapside is lately dead, I have remov’d my brother Griffith 
to the Hen and Chickens in Paternoster-Row to Mr. Taylor’s, 
as genteel a shop as any in the City. 


Jacobs does not attempt to identify Mr. Taylor. He may reasonably 
be conjectured to be the man mentioned in Richard Smyth’s ‘ Obituary,’ 
p. 30, under June 13, 1651, “Mr. Wm. Taylor, at the Hen and Chickens 
in Paternoster Row, mercer, died.” Howell dates the present letter 
3 Dec., 1630. His Mr. Taylor was presumably a mercer, as the deceased 
Hawes to whom Griffith Howell had been apprenticed followed that 
business. See Bk. I., Sect. 5, xiv., p. 265. 


Book I., Sect. 5, xxxix., p. 289. 
To Mr. Alderman Moulson, Governor of the Merchant- 
Adventurers. 


This letter is dated by Howell, in his second edition, 1 June, 1632. 
It is not unlikely that this is Alderman Thomas Moulson, whose death 
on Dec. 6, 1638, and burial on Jan. 10 are recorded in the ‘ Obituary ’ 
of Richard Smyth, p. 15 (Camden Soc.). 


Book I., Sect. 5, xxxix., p. 289, I understand by Mr. Skinner 
that the Staple hath some grievances to be redress’d. 

‘Perhaps Milton’s friend,’ says Jacobs, “ to whom one of 
the Sonnets is addressed.”’ 


Milton addressed two sonnets to. Cyriack Skinner, the grandson of 
Chief Justice Coke, but Cyriack can hardly be the Skinner here mentioned. 
A. Wood (under James Harrington) in describing the Rota Club in 1659 
speaks of Cyriack as “a merchant’s son of London, an ingenious young 
gentleman, and scholar to Jo. Milton.’”’ The Mr. Skinner who was talking 
of the grievances of the Staple in 1632 was not likely to have been a 
boy. Cyriack’s father died in 1627 (Masson’s ‘ Milton,’ i1i., 657 sq.), 
but a Daniel and a Thomas Skinner were merchants in Mark Lane from 
1651 onwards. 


HOWELL’S LETTERS 53 


Book I., Sect. 5, xl. p. 289: 
To Mr. Alderman Clethero, Governor of the Eastland Company. 


The date which Howell-.assigns to this letter too is June 1, 1632. 

It does not seem rash to conjecture that the above may be the Sir 
Christopher Clitherow, Alderman, whose death on Nov. 11, 1641, is 
recorded in Richard Smyth’s ‘ Obituary.’ 


Book I., Sect. 6, xxiii., p. 326, The old rotten D. of Bavaria, 
for he hath divers Issues about his body, hath married one of 
the Emperor’s Sisters, a young Lady little above twenty, and 
he near upon four-score. . . . And if the Bavarian hath Male- 
Issue of this young Lady, the son is to succeed him in the 
HKlectorship. 


At the date of his second marriage, 1635, Maximilian I. of Bavaria 
was 62 years of age. His niece and bride, Maria Anna, was not as yet 
the sister of an emperor, as her father, the Emperor Ferdinand II., was 
still living. Ferdinand III., her brother, was elected Emperor in 1636. 
There was male issue, and Max’s successor was Ferdinand Maria, the 
elder of their two sons. 

In *‘Dodona’s Grove’ (p. 197, Ist ed., 1640) the Elder represents 
the Duke of Bavaria (‘‘so called both from his age, and the ill favour 
he hath amongst us’’), and we are told that “the Hider lifted up his 
hollow boughs, so high, that a little after he took heart of grace to court 
one of the youngest sprayes of the Imperiall Cedar for his Consort, though 
in point of age he quadrupply exceeded her, being cauterizd in foure 
severall places about his body to have vent for his malignant humors.” 

We are reminded of the brutal references in Charles II.’s reign to 
Lord Shaftesbury’s bodily condition. 


Book 1., Sect. 6, xxvii., p. 329: 
To Mr. James Howard, wpon his Banish’d Virgin, translated 


out of Italian. 


Jacobs has a note on ‘“‘Mr. James Howard’: “Probably the 
dramatist who wrote two comedies in which Nell Gwyn appeared and 
was seen by Pepys (D.N.B.).” | 

This is downright recklessness. ‘‘ Probability,’’ Bishop Butler tells 
us, ‘‘is the very Guide of Life,’’ but Heaven alone knows where Jacobs’s 
Wahrscheinlichkeitslehre would lead a man. ‘The English Mounsieur,’ 
which seemed to Pepys “‘ a mighty pretty play, very witty and pleasant ”’ 
when little Nelly acted in it on Dec. 8, 1666, was written by James, the 
ninth son of Thomas Howard, first Earl of Berkshire, and a brother of 
Sir Robert Howard (the sixth son, 1626-1698). The ‘Eromena’ 
Englished by J. H., the subject of the second set of verses in the present 
letter, was published in 1632, when the above-mentioned James Howard 
could have been no more than a child. The James Hayward of Gray’s 
Inn (for the name see Jacobs’s own note) who translated ‘ Eromena,’ 
and the ‘ Donzella desterrada ’ of Biondi, was thus an earlier and different 


author. 


54 HOWELL’S LETTERS 


Book I., Sect. 6, xxxiil., p. 337, Difference in opinion may 
work a disaffection, in me, but not a detestation ; I rather pity 
than hate Turk or Infidel, for they are of the same metal, and 
bear the same stamp as I do, tho’ the Inscriptions differ. 


In his introductory note to this letter, Jacobs mentions Prof. C. H. 
Firth’s suggestion that its sentiments were inspired by Browne’s ‘ Religio 
Medici,’ which appeared in an unauthorised’ form in 1642 [but which 
had already been spread abroad to some extent in MS.] and adds “TIT 
confess I cannot see the resemblance.” The above extract certainly 
recalls Browne’s “‘ Neither doth herein my zeale so farre make me forget 
the generall charity I owe unto humanity, as rather to hate than pitty 
Turks, Infidels, and (what is worse) Jewes.”’ 

* Relig. Med.,’ Part I., Sect. 1. 


Book I., Sect. 6, xxxv., p. 341, In this work of generation, 
as there is generatio unius, so there is corruptio alterius. — 


The phrase is from Aristotle, “ Metaphys.’ IT., 2, 994b, “H yag Oatéoov 
g0ooa Oatégov égoti yévecic, and elsewhere. 

Compare John Owen, ‘ Epigrammata,’ Bk. IV. (‘Ad D. Arbellam 
Stuart, Liber singularis,’) 85, ) 

Generatio unius est corruptio duorum. 
Ut generent unam confuso semine prolem, 
Corpora corrumpunt vir mulierque duo. 

Also Middleton, ‘The Roaring Girl,’ [II., 1.,“. . . would you know 
a catchpoll rightly derived, the corruption of a citizen is the generation 
of a sergeant.” 

It is one of the numerous Aristotelian phrases that became common 
property, usually in Latin forms. Swift, ‘ Polite Conversation,’ Dialogue 
II., has “ Well; but, sir John, they. say, that the Corruption of Pipes 
is the Generation of Stoppers,” 


Book I., Sect. 6, xxxvi., p. 342, I deliver’d your Letter to 3 
Mr. James Dillon, but nothing can be done in that business 
till your Brother Pain comes to Town. 


On James Dillon, Jacobs says, ‘“‘ probably related to the Lord Dillon 
who is one of the signatories in Straff. Letters, 11., 346, at Dublin in 1639.” 
As Howell’s letter is dated Dublin, 3 May, 1639, Mr. James Dillon would 
seem to be the same who is the subject of chap. x. in vol. 1. of “Memoirs 
of the Verney Family during the Seventeenth Century,’ 2nd ed. 1904. 
Lady Verney was mistaken in calling him “the eldest son of Viscount 
Dillon, afterwards second Earl of Roscommon.’’ The Dulons, Earls 
of Roscommon, must. be distinguished from the Viscounts Dillon of 
Costello-Gallen, though the mother of Lucas the second Viscount was 
a daughter of James Dillon the first Earl of Roscommon. Our James 
Dillon’s father, Robert, did not succeed to the peerage till March, 1641, 
and died on August 27 of the next year. At the time of this letter he 
was styled Lord Kilkenny-West. The document in 11. 346, which Jacobs 


HOWELL’S LETTERS 55 


says was signed by a Lord Dillon, was naturally signed by Lord Kilkenny- 
West as “R. Dillon.” It is:dated 21 May, 1639. 

His son James, presumably mentioned here, married Lord Strafford’s 
sister Elizabeth and was the father of Wentworth Dillon, the fourth 
Earl and author of the ‘Essay on translated Verse.’ James (born 
ce. 1605 and 7 in 1649) was the third Earl. We know from the Verney 
Memoirs that he was in Ireland at this time. 


Book I., Sect. 6, xxxviii., p. 344, [in Howell’s description 
of Edinburgh], . . . the Castle (call’d of old the Castle of Virgins, 
and, by Pliny, Castrum alatum). 


See Camden, * Britannia’ (Francof. 1616), p. 663, 

“Inferius propé fretum Scoticum EDENBVRGVS sedet, ipsis Hiberno- 
Scotis Dun Haden id est oppidum aden, vulgd Edenborrow, que 
proculdubio ipsa eadem est, que Ptolemaeo oteatdézedov ategwtov, id 
est Castrvm Anatvm; Edenborrow enim idem plané significat, quod 
castrum alatum: nam Adain alam Britannis denotat, & Hdenborrow 
(composito 6 Britannica & Saxonica lingua vocabulo) nihil aliud est, 
quam Burgus alatus.” 

Camden describes the position of the “ castrum firmissimum, quod 
Britanni Castel myned Agned, Scoti Castrum Puellarum, & Castrum Vir- 
ginum...” 

“Pliny? must be an error for Ptolemy. Castrum alatum is not 
found in Pliny, while Pape’s * Lex. der griech. Eigennamen’ gives two 
references to Ptolemy (2, 3, 13; 8, 3, 9) for Itegwtor to oteatdézedor. 

Those who know their Scott will remember how in the sixth chapter 
of ‘The Antiquary ’ Sir Arthur Wardour’s statement that “the Pictish 
maidens of the blood-royal were kept in Edinburgh Castle, thence called 
Castrum Puellarum”’ was rebuffed by his opponent. ‘*A_ childish 
legend,’ said Oldbuck, “‘invented to give consequence to trumpery 
womankind. It was called the Maiden Castle, quasi lucus a non lucendo, 
because it resisted every attack, and women never do.” 

But Oliphant Smeaton in ‘ The Story of Edinburgh’ writes “ During 
the time'it was held by the Britons they called it Castelh Mynedh Agnedh, 
which means, not as some think, the Castle of the Maidens or Virgins, 
owing to the supposition that there the daughters of the reigning British. 
monarchs were kept during the period of their education—but ‘the hill 
of the plain’ or ‘the hill overlooking the plain,’ a meaning implying 
that the fort’ was used for purposes of observation in times of war.” — 

ipook i Sect. 6; xxxvii., p: 345, My Vintner: replies . .’. 
Must the gentle Craft of Shoe-makers fall therefore to the ground ? 

Compare Thomas Deloney, ‘The Gentle Craft’ and Dekker’s ‘The 
Shoemaker’s Holiday, or a Pleasant Comedy of the Gentle Craft,’ which 
is dedicated ‘‘to all Good Fellows, Professors of the Gentle Craft.’ 
In the Times Lit. Supplement, Dec. 29, 1921, a review of ‘ The Organisa- 
tion of the Boot and Shoe Industry in Massachusetts,’ by Blanche Evans 
Hazard, was headed ‘the ‘‘ Gentle Craft’? in Massachusetts.’ 

Book I., Sect. 6, xliv., p. 353, Certainly he [Cardinal 
Richelieu] is a rare Man, and of a transcendent reach, and they 


56 HOWELL’S LETTERS 


are rather Miracles than Exploits that he hath done, tho’ those 
Miracles be of a sanguine dye (the colour of his habit), steep’d 
in blood ; which makes the Spaniard call him the grand Caga- 
fuego of Christendom. 7 


Jacobs notes that ‘‘one of the Spanish ships captured by Drake 
was called Cacafuego.”’ We are not to understand that the stately 
Spanish men of Philip II.’s days had solemnly christened by this unseemly 
name the galleon of which Drake made a prize in 1579. See Sir Julian 
Corbett’s ‘Drake and the Tudor Navy,’ vol. i., 272, ‘‘The ‘ Nuestra 
Senora de la Concepcion,’ as though unusually well armed for a South 
Sea ship, was nicknamed Cacafuego, a word that may be decently translated 
‘ Spitfire.’ ”’ 

Book I., Sect. 6, 1., p. 358, Nzhil est infelicius eo cui nil 
unquam contigit adverst : There is nothing more unhappy than 
he who never felt any adversity. | 

This ‘‘ weighty saying in Seneca ”’ is from ‘ Dial.’ I. ‘De Providentia’ 
(‘ Quare aliqua incommoda bonis viris accidant, cum providentia sit ’), 
ii., 3, ‘‘ Inter multa magnifica Demetri nostri et haec vox est, a qua 
recens sum. Sonat adhuc et vibrat in auribus meis: ‘nihil,’ inquit, 
‘mihi videtur infelicius eo, cui nihil umquam evenit adversi.’ ”’ 

Book I., Sect. 6, li, p. 360, When that doleful change 
was pronounced against Israel, Perditio ex te Israel, it was meant 
of the concrete (not the abstract), Oh Israelites, your ruin comes 
from yourselves. 

Perditio tua Israel: tantummodo in me auxilium tuum. Hosea, 
Xi, 9, 

The “ change ”’ of ed. 1737 should have been corrected to the “‘ charge ”’ 
of ed.! | 

Book I., Sect. 6, liv., pp. 365, 366, This put me in mind of 
one of your Predecessors (in your late Office), Marg. Pawlet, 
who it seems sail’d by the same compass ; for there being divers 
bandyings and factions at Court in his time, yet he was beloved 
by all parties, and being ask’d how he stood so right in the 
opinion of all, he answer’d, By being a Willow, and not an Oak. 

Jacobs notes that by Marg. Pawlet “‘H. probably means W. Paulet, 
Marquis of Winchester, Lord Treasurer, 1551-8.” The identification 
is not merely probable, but certain, as may be seen from Sir Robert 
Naunton’s * Fragmenta Regalia,’ p. 25 in Arber’s Reprint of the 1653 
edition (the book was first published in 1641, and again in 1642. Howell 
adds to the present letter the date 3 Sept. 1644), ‘‘ Paulet Marquesse 
of Winchester, and Lord Treasurer, having served then four Princes in 
as various and changeable season, that I may well say, time nor any 


age hath yielded the like president. This man being noted to grow 
high in her favour (as his place and experience required) was questioned 


HOWELL’S LETTERS 57 


by an intimate friend of his, how he stood up for thirty years together, 
amidst the changes and raignes of so many Chancellors and great Person- 
ages; Why, quoth the Marquesse, Ortus swm ex salice, non ex quercu, 
I was made of the plyable Willow, not of the stubborn Oak.”’ 

**No Oake, but an Osier’’ is the alliterative rendering in Fuller’s 
‘Worthies,’ under ‘ Hant-shire.’ 

Jacobs’s statement that the Marquis was Lord Treasurer from 1551 
to 1558 falls far short of the truth and weakens the story. He held 
the office for a much longer time, from 1550 till his death in 1572. 

** By being a Willow, and not an Oak” is said by Jacobs to be ‘‘a 
reference of course to the fable of the Oak and Reed.’ But if this is so, 
why do we not find the Treasurer describing himself as a reed instead 
of a willow ? The oak and the reed are contrasted in the ‘ Fabulae 
Aesopicae,’ 179 (Halm), Babrius, 36, Avianus, 16, and Macrobius, ‘ Sat.’ 

u., 8, 6; but the willow figures in Claudian, 
' Incubuit numquam caelestis flamma salictis 
Nec parvi frutices iram meruere Tonantis : 
Ingentes quercus, annosas fulminat ornos. 
‘Deprecatio ad Hadrianum,’ 38-40. 


Book I1., ii., p. 377, If your spirit will not let you retract, 
yet you shall do well to repress any more Copies of the Satire. 


Jacobs supposes Ben Jonson’s attack on Inigo Jones to be ‘The 
Tale of a Tub,’ in which Jones was satirised as Vitruvius Hoop. This 
must be wrong. The play, licensed in 1633, was not first published 
in that year, as Jacobs asserts, but in the folio of 1640. The “ Satire ”’ 
of this letter is surely, as Prof. Herford says in his life of Jonson in the 
D.N.B., ‘An Expostulation with Inigo Jones.’ 


Book II., iii., p. 377, Nemo sine crimine. 


See ‘Catonis Disticha,’ I., v., 
Si vitam inspicias, hominum si denique mores : 
Cum culpant alios, nemo sine crimine vivit. 


Book IL., vi., p. 382, .. . you know what answer the Fox 
gave the pe, wien he sulla have borrow’d part of his Tail 
to cover his Posteriors. 

See Jacobus Pontanus, ‘ Attica Bellaria,’ p. 152 (ed. 1617), 

‘‘ Hic vulpes, nihil se habere supervacuum, malleque humum sua 
cauda verri, quam ea simiz nates operiri,’”’ and Appendix, Fab. 1., in 
L. Miiller’s ed. of Phedrus, &c. 

Book II., viii., p. 384, This made T'rismegistus, one of the 
great Lords of Reason, to give this character of Man, Homo 
est imaginatio quedam, & imaginatio est supremum mendacium : 
Man is nought else but a kind of imagination, and imagination 
is the greatest lie. 


For the Greek original see Stobzus, ‘ Florilegium,’ xi., 23 (Meineke ; 


58 HOWELL’S LETTERS 


=‘ Anthol.’ III., xi., 31 in Wachsmuth and Hense’s ed. of Stobzeus) 
two-thirds through the extract headed, ‘Hoyot & tay aods Tat., 
Dartacia dé éoti tig 6 GOQMmOS, 4 O€ partacia wedvdos dv ein axedtator. 


Book IL., viii., p. 384, .. . we are involv’d in a mist, and 
grope, as it were, ever since in the dark, as if Truth were got 
into some dungeon ; or, as the old Wizard said, into some deep 
Pit, which the shallow Apprehension of Men could not fathom. 


The Wizard is Democritus. 

‘*“Num nostra culpaest ? Naturam accusa, quae in profundo veritatem, 
ut ait Democritus, penitus abstruserit.’’ Cicero, ‘Acad. Prior.’ IL1., 
10, 32. Diogenes Laertius, IX., xi., 8, 72, quotes as Democritus’s °Ete7 
dé obdév iduev’ év Bv0G yao 1) aAnOein, and Seneca at the very end of his 
‘Natur. Quaest.’ (vu., 32, 4) has “At mehercule si hoc totis membris 
premeremus, . . . vix ad fundum veniretur, in quo veritas posita est, 
quam nunc in summa terra et levi manu quaerimus.” 

Prof. J. S. Reid, in his note on the above passage of Cicero, observes 
“the ordinary rendering ‘well’ for Bv@dc is far too weak ; render rather 
‘abyss.’ ’’? But the choice of ‘‘ well’ would seem to be due to the use 
of “ puteus.”’ Lactantius, ‘Inst.’ III., xxviii., 13, writes, “ Democritus 
quasi in puteo quodam sic alto, ut fundus sit nullus, veritatem lacere 
demersam.”’ In Cognatus’s * Sylloge,’ under ‘ Veritas in profundo’ (p. 453 
in J. J. Grynaeus’s ‘ Adagia,’ ed. 1629), there is a reference to Turnebus’s 
‘ Adversaria,’ lib. xv., cap..3, where we have the apposite comment on 
Persius, iv., 21, 22, “In eo feré profundo puteo, in quo demersam 
Democritus latere veritatem putauit, horum Persii satyr. 4. versuum 
sententia occultata videtur celari.”’ 


Book ql xc. ps 305. 
Nullus in Inferno est Atheos, ante furt. 


The author and reference have already been given (* Aber. Studies, ’ 


ii., p. 34). See, further, Thomas Brooks, ‘London’s Lamentations 
on the late Fiery Dispensation,’ vol..vi., p. 62, in Dr. Grosart’s edition 
of Brooks’s ‘Complete Works,’ “To deny there is a God, is a sort of 
atheism that is not to be found in hell. 

‘On earth are atheists many, 

In hell there is not any.’ ”’ 


Book II., xiii., p. 404,—Proprio laus sordet in ore. 


There are various forms of this medieval aphorism. Several of 
them can be seen on p. 46 of Jakob Werner’s ‘ Lateinische Sprichworter 
und Sinnspriiche des Mittelalters aus Handschriften gesammelt ’ (Heidel- 
berg, 1912). For example: . 

Laus mea sordet eo, quod venit ore meo. 
Jlaus omnis vere proprio sordescit in ore. 


Book II., xix., p. 411, It is as hard a task to reconcile the 
Fanes of St. Sepulchre’s Steeple, which never look all four upon 


HOWELL’S LETTERS 59 


one point of the Heavens, as to reduce them to any conformity 
of reason. 


We meet with the same illustration in recent literature : 

““In some of the Rotterdam canals the barges are so packed that 
they lie touching each other, with their burgees flying all in the same 
direction, as the vanes of St. Sepulchre’s in Holborn cannot do.” 

E. V. Lucas, ‘A Wanderer in Holland,’ chap. i 

The restored’ or rebuilt tower has its four vanes like its predecessor 
before the Great Fire. The Sexton of St. Sepulchre’s paid certain grim 
attentions to the condemned criminals in the neighbouring prison of 
Newgate. 


Book II., xxi., pp. 412, 413, There was as much difference 
between them as ’twixt a Scotch Pedlar’s Pack in Poland and the 
Magazine of an English Merchant in Naples. 


See Dr. P. Giles’s ‘Manual of Comparative Philology, (1901), p. 32, 
‘In Lithuanian the ordinary word for pedlar is szdtas. If we did not 
know that till last century most of the trade of Lithuania was done by 
Scotechmen we should probably have some difficulty in recognising the 
word as ‘Scot’ (through the German Schotte).’’ 


Book II., xxiv., p. 416, I wish a thousand benedictions may 
fall upon this your second choice, and that—tam bona sit quam 
bona prima fuit. 


The quotation is adapted from Ovid : 
‘Utendum est aetate: cito pede labitur aetas, 
Nee bona tam sequitur, quam bona prima fuit. 
‘Ars Amoris,’ ii., 65 sq. 

To apply the Latin words, in one form or other, to a second venture 
in marriage is very natural, gud Howell was not the first to do so. In 
John Owen’s ‘ Epigrammata,’ Lib., IV. (Ad D. Arbellam Stuart, Liber 
singularis), no. 74, bainesced “Ad D. Henricum Goodyer ee 
optima conjuge orbatum 1606,’ ends thus: 


O ter felicem, quater 6 Goodyere beatum, 
Si bona tam sequitur, quam bona prima fuit. 

In the ‘ Anatomy’ of Melancholy,’ Partition 2, Sect. 3, Memb. 5, we 
have ‘‘ Another complains of a most sweet wife, . .. such a wife as 
no mortal man ever had, so good a wife, but now she is dead and gone, 

. | reply to him in Seneca’s words, if such a woman at least ever 
was to be had, He did either so find or make her ; if he found her, he may 
as happily find another; if he made her, as Critobulus in Xenophon did 
by his, he may as good cheap inform another, & bona tam sequitur, quam 
bona prima fuit; he need not dispair, as long as the same master is to 
be -had.”’ But this Latin was not inserted until the posthumous edition 
of 1651, which contained Burton’s latest corrections and augmentations. 


Book II., Xxviii., p: 420, . . . all which Countries, I observ’d, 


60 HOWELL’S LETTERS 


the Spaniard holds, as one would do a Wolf by the ear, fearing 
they should run away ever and anon from him. 


See Terence, Phormio, 506, 
Id quod aiunt, auribus teneo lupum, and A. Otto, ‘ Sprichwoérter 
der Romer,’ s.v. Lupus, 9. 


Book II., xl., p. 432, 
To Master J. H., at St. John’s College in Cambridge. 


Jacobs notes that this is “‘ John Hall of Durham, not to be confused 

with Bishop Joseph Hall, the satirist. Probably the same mentioned 
in Worthington’s Diary, 7, 10, 15, 17.” 

As the letter begins ‘“‘ Master Hall’? and acknowledges the receipt 
of “your Hssays,”’ published, as Jacobs points out, in 1646 (the present 
letter is dated ‘‘3 Dec.’”? and the preceding ‘‘2 Jan. 1646”), the first 
part of this identification is clearly justified. Why, however, anyone 
should want to confuse John Hall with the bishop, who had a different 
Christian name and was born over half a century earlier, is not apparent. 
But it is absolutely certain that our Hall is not the Hall mentioned by 
Worthington. John Hall, the author of ‘Hore Vacive, or Essays 
and some Occasional Considerations’ was born in 1627 and admitted 
a pensioner of St. John’s College in Feb. 26, 1645-6 (John Venn and J. A. 
Venn’s ‘Alumni Cantabrigienses’). The passages in Worthington’s 
Diary (vol. I.) are of the years 1639-1642 and show clearly that the Hall 
there mentioned was a Fellow of Emmanuel. He was evidently Nicholas 
Hall of Newcastle-on-Tyne, who was elected Fellow in 1627 (Venn, wut 
SUpTQ). 


Book II., xli., p. 433, . . . by calling to mind, that Afflictions 
are the proportion of the best Theophiles. 

‘Cf. Revelation, ui. 19, *Eyd Goovcg éav gisd éhéyyw xai aaldeto. 
Prov. i.. 12 =) ce: 

Book II., xlix., p. 443, For the Physicians have forsaken 


her, and Dr. Burton told me ’tis a miracle if she lasts a natural 
day to an end. 


Jacobs informs us that by Dr. Burton is meant the ‘‘ brother of 
the Anatomy Burton, and historian of Leicestershire.’”’ No evidence 
is offered for this hardy assertion. The Melancholy Burton’s brother 
William who wrote the ‘ Description of Leicestershire ’ was never a Doctor 
in any Faculty. 


Book IL., liii., 448, So Fear begets Love, but it begets Know- — 
ledge first ; for—Ignoti nulla cupido, we cannot love God, unless 
we know him before. 


Quod latet, ignotum est: ignoti nuila cupido. 
Ovid; ‘ Ars Am.,” 111., 397. 


HOWELL’S LETTERS 61 


Book II., liv.,; p. 453, As they write of a River in Bithynia, 
whose water hath a peculiar virtue to discover a perjurer ; 
for if he drink thereof, it will presently boil in his stomach, 
and put him to visible tortures. 


See Pliny, ‘ Nat. Hist.,’ xxxi., 2, (18), 23, “‘ Amnis Alcas in Bithynia 
Bryazum adluit—hoc est et templo et deo nomen—, cuius gurgitem periuri 
negantur pati velut flammam urentem.’” But Howell may have been 
indebted to some indirect source for this legend. It is to be found, for 
instance, in Alexander ab Alexandro, ‘ Geniales Dies,’ Lib. V., cap. x. 


Book II., liv., p. 459, I heard of a company of Low-Dutchmen 
that had drunk so deep, that beginning to stagger, and their 
heads turning round, they thought verily they were at sea, and 
that the upper chamber where they were was a Ship; insomuch 
that it being foul windy weather, they fell to throwing the 
stools and other things out of the window, to lighten the Vessel, 
for fear of suffering shipwreck. 


Howell has transferred a very old story to a modern setting. Burton 
tells it in ‘The Anat. of Melancholy,’ first inserting it in his 3rd edition 
(1628), 1, 2, 4, 7. “A company of yong men at Agrigentum in Sicily, 
came into a Tauerne’”’ &c. His marginal reference is ‘‘ Ccelius 
l. 17, cap. 2.” L. Celius Rhodiginus (Lodovico Celio Richieri 
of Rovigo) giving it in xvi., 2 of his ‘ Lectiones Antique’ mentions 
as his authority Timezus. The story is in an extract from Timeus in 
Atheneus II. cap. 5, 37b-e. It is the subject of chap. lxxiv. in Book 
IV. of the Jesuit Nic. Caussin’s * Polyhistor Symbolicus,’ and Jeremy 
Taylor introduces it briefly in his second Sermon on ‘The House of 
Feasting.’ / 


Book II., lxii., p. 486, Who would have held it possible 
. . . That to avoid Superstition, some People should be brought 
. . to term the white decent Robe of the Presbyter, the Whore’s 


Smock; ... the Liturgy of the Church, tho’ extracted most 
of it out of the Sacred Text, call’d . . . by others raw Porridge 
8 


See ‘A Rent in the Lawne Sleeves or Episcopacy Eclypsed, By the 
most happy interposition of a Parliament Discoursed Dialogue-wise 
betweene a Bishop and a Iesuite,’ &c., London, 1641. In this, the 
Bishop is made to say ‘“‘ The Surplesse is, like our power, scorn’d and 
slighted, disrespected generally, and termed by our nice Puritanes, the 
smocke of the whore of Rome,” p. 4. 

See also ‘The Reformado, Precisely Charactered by a Transformed 
Church-warden, at a Vestry,’ London, s.a. (or the date of the copy in 
the Thomason collection at the Brit. Mus. has been cut away), p. 8, 
““. .. lest the Babylonian garment, (the Surplice) be shouldered in 


62 HOWELL’S LETTERS 


againe among us; for, to Professors of our Complexion, no smock is 
more odious, than that of the Whore of Rome.’ 
_ With respect to the Liturgy, see p. 6 of the same tract : 

“The Errata of the Book of Common prayer (as some call it) or rather 
the Lithurgy of the Church of England, were they exprest at large, would 
over-bulke the Bible; yet the ravenous Hsaw’s of the world, had rather 
lose all their Liberties and Proprieties geen are their Birth- right) then 
one messe of this red and black Oage 

It was Zachary Grey’ 8 note on ‘ Hudibras,’ I., i., 3, that sent me to 
these tracts. | | 


Book I1., Ixu., p. 486, Which makes me call to memory a 
Saying of the Earl of ‘Kildare in Ireland in the Reign of Henry 
VIII., which Earl having a deadly feud with the Bishop of 
Cassiles, burnt a Church belonging to that Diocese ; and being 
ask’d upon his examination before the Lord-Deputy at the 
Castle of Dublin, why he had committed such a horrid Sacrilege 
as to burn God’s Church, he answer’d, J had never burnt the 
Church unless I had thought the Bishop had been in’t. 


Camden, ‘Remaines concerning Britaine,’ ‘ Wise Speeches,’ had 
told the story in a different form: ‘‘The Earl of Kildare, being charged 
before King Henry the seventh for burning the Metropolitan Church 
of Cassiles in Ireland, and many witnesses procured to avouch the truth 
of the Article against him, he suddenly confessed it, to the great wondring 
and detestation of the Council. Then it was looked how he should 
justifie that fact. ‘°By Jesu,’ quoth he, ‘I would never have done 
it, if it had not been told me that the Arch-bishop had been within it.’ 
And because the Bishop was one of the busiest accusers present, merrily 
laughed the King at the plainness of the man, to see him alledge that 
intent for excuse which most of all did aggravate his fault.” 


Book IT., lxxiii., p. 500, I do not think that you fear Death 
as much now, tho’ it'be to some (pofeomy gofeodtatoy), as you 
did to go into the dark when you were a child. 


See Aristotle, ‘ Eth. Nic. geld tales 6, Teo stoia obv tHy popeomdy o 
avogetos; 1) mEeQl ta péytota; ovOEic yag VmopMEvEeTLXwTEQOG THY dEWaY’ 
popeomtatoyv 0 06 Oavatos. 

At first sight it looks as though we had an example in Howell’s text 
of the old practice of indicating a quotation or emphasis by means of 
brackets (see Dr. McKerrow in vol. xii. of the Bibliographical Society’s 
Transactions, p. 310), but the first edition of Book II., 1647, brackets 
the jSHeee ins words “tho’ it be to some,” and not the Greek. Ought > 
from ‘“‘tho’” to gofeo@tatov to be thus marked? 


Book II., Ixxvi., p. 506, Don and Hans, I hear, are absolutely 
accorded; .... If it be. so, the People which button. their 
doublets apWaed will be better able to deal with you there. 


HOWELL’S LETTERS 63 


Jacobs points out that. Howell mentions this distinction in ‘ Foreign 
Travel,’ p. 31 [Arber’s reprint]. On referring to this we find “‘. .... the 
one puts on his Doublet first, the other last; the Frenchman buttoneth 
always down-ward, the Spaniard upward.’’ Yet by a strange piece of 
earelessness Jacobs quotes Howell’s words in the present letter as 
“button their doublets outwards ’’ and refers to Essay ii. in Grant Allen’s 
Falling in Love,” &c., an essay in which an ‘entirely different matter 
is, dealt with, the distinetion between men’s and women’s clothes, the 
former being buttoned towards the right, the latter ,(like the coat. of 
O’Connell’s statue in Dublin) towards the left. 


Book ie v., p. 519, He is the Kappy man-. .. who is 
before-hand ith the world, and when he comes Leto. London 
can whet his knife at the Counter-gate. 


In Fuller’s ‘ Worthies,’ ed. 1811, vol. ii. p., 59, among London Proverbs, 
is “He may Whet his Knife on the Threshold of the Fleet.” Fuller says 
“The Proverb is appliable to those who never owed ought; or else, 
having run into debt, have crept out of it, so that now they may defie 
danger and arrests, yea may triumphare in Hostico, laugh in the face 
of the Serjeants. Surely the Threshold of the, Fleet, so used, setteth 
a good edge on the Knife, and a better on the Wearer thereo!, _acting 
him with a spirit free from all engagements.” — 

The feeling of the man who is not ‘‘beforé-hand With the world ’’ 
is expressed by Falstaff, ‘Merry Wives,’ III., iii., ‘“‘ Thou mightest' as 
well say I love to walk py the Counter- -gate, which is as agieeinll to me 
as the reek of a lime-kiln.’ 

For the Counter ‘prisons see Serjeant, ntoreieee emo on p. vi. 
of Sir Henry Ellis’s edition of the “Obituary of Richard Smyth ’ (Camden 
Soc.), and the ‘ Enc. Brit.,’ s.v. ‘Counter,’ ‘“‘ the ‘ compters ” of the sheriff’s 
courts of the city of London were, ‘at various times, in the Poultry, 
Bread St.; Wood St., and Giltspur St.; ‘the Giltspur St. compter was 
the last to be closed, in 1854.” . 


Book Ue, V.; p. 519, Witness bet Monster. in Scotland in 
James the Mo urthes reign, with two: heads one opposite to the 
other; and having but one bulk of Body thro’out, these two 
heads would often fall into Altercations pro and con one with 
the other, and seldom were they of one opinion, but they would 
knock one against the other in eager disputes. 


The monster is described by George Buchanan,‘ Rerum Scoticarum 
Historia,’ lib. xiii., under the year 1490, p. 444 in the Utrecht edition, 
of 1668, 

“Circa hee tempora, monstrum novi generis’ in Scotia natum est, 
inferiore quidem corporis parte specie maris, nec quicquam & communi 
hominum forma discrepans: umbilicum vero supra, trunco corporis, 
ac reliquis omnibus membris geminis, & ad usum & speciem discretis. 
Id Rex diligenter & educandum, & erudiendum curavit: ac maxime 
in musicis, qua in re mirabiliter profecit : quin & varias linguas edidicit, 
& variis voluntatibus duo corpora secum discordia discutiebant, ac 


64 HOWELL’S LETTERS 


interim litigabant, cum aliud alii placeret: interim, velut in commune, 
consultabant.”’ 

Buchanan’s account is transcribed by Philipp Camerarius in lib. II., 
cap. Ixvu., of his ‘Opere Horarum Subcisivarum sive Meditationes 
Historice.’ 


Book III., vii., p. 525, The extravagant Humour of our 
Country is not to be altogether commended, that all Men should 
aspire to Book-learning : There is not a simpler Animal, and a 
more superfluous Member of State, than a mere Scholar, than 
only a self-pleasing Student ; he is—Zelluris inutile pondus. 


A quotation in Bk. II., Ixxv., from Eobanus Hessus’s version of the 
Iliad has already been noticed (‘ Aber. Studies,’ 111., p. 37). We have 
here another. Iliad xvi., 104, 

"AAV Hyat aga vynvoiv éetaHovov GyAos aoovenc 
being rendered. by 
Desideo ad naues telluris inutile pondus. 
‘Homeri Ilias,’ ed. Basel, 1540, p. 464. 


Book IIL., ix., p. 528, Now, T'ruth hath her degrees of growing 
and expanding herself, as all other things have; and as Time 
begets her, so he doth the obstetricious Office of a Midwife to 
bring her forth. 


For Truth being the Daughter of Time, and Time bringing Truth 
to Light, see the passages collected from Latin and Greek authors in 
A. Otto’s ‘Die Sprichworter und Sprichworterlichen Redensarten der 
Romer,’ p. 343, under “Tempus,” 5. For example, A. Gellius, XII., 
xi., 7, Alius quidam veterum poetarum, cuius nomen mihi nune memoriae 
non est, Veritatem Temporis filiamesse dixit, and Menandri Monosticha, 1], 

"Aye 0& 1200S yas tTHv aArnOEvay yoovos. 

We may compare the title of Michael Sparke’s *'Truth brought to 

light by Time,’ 1651, and ‘ Hudibras,’ II., iii., 663 sq., 
Tis not Antiquity, nor Author, 
That makes truth truth, although time’s daughter. 


Book III., ix., 529, He left the World to the disputations of 
Men, as the wisest of Men saith, who in acquisition of natural 
Truths went from the Hysop to the Cedar. 


On ‘‘ wisest of men” our Editor notes ‘‘Sclomon, but I cannot find 
the reference, which is probably from (sic) the Apocrypha.” 

Not so. See, in the Vulgate, Ecclesiastes ii., 11, “‘ Mundum tradidit 
disputationi eorum ”’ (the last word refers to “‘filiis hominum ”’ in the 
preceding verse). The A.V. has “‘He hath s2t the world in their heart,” 
but the A.V. was not the only source for Biblical quotations in 1647. 


Book IIT., ix., p. 533, Now the Earth is the basest Creature 
which God hath made . ... ’tis the very sink of all corruption 
and frailty ; which made T'rismegist say, that Terra non mundus 


HOWELL’S LETTERS 65 


est nequitie locus; the Earth, not the World, is the seat of 
wickedness. 


See Mercurii Trismegisti Poemander, Paris, 1554, p. 38, Dial. IX., 
thy yao xaxtavy évOdde Oeiv oixeiy einouey TH Eavths ywoiw obtoav. Xweiov 
yag avutics 7 yij, ody 6 xoOmos, WS Evtoinote Egovor PAacpnmodrTEs. 


Book III., xiii., p. 536, | have known divers, and those of 
pregnant and ripe Capacities, who had spent more Oil and Time 
in those Countries, yet could they not arrive to that double 
Perfection which you have. 


A recollection, immediate or otherwise, of Juvenal, vii., 98, 99, 
Vester porro labor fecundior, historiarum 
Scriptores ? perit hic plus temporis atque olei plus. 
But Howell’s copy would have given him peévt. 


Book III., xxiii., p. 549, The best historians have it upon 
record, how Charlemain’s Mistress enchanted him with a Ring, 
which as long as she had about her, he would not suffer her 
dead Carcase to be carry’d out of his chamber to be buried ; 
and a Bishop taking it out of her mouth, the Emperor grew to 
be as much bewitch’d with the Bishop; but he being cloy’d 
with his excess of favour, threw it into a Pond, where the 
Emperor’s chiefest pleasure was to walk till his dying day. 


The story may be read at greater length in Burton, ‘ Anat. of 
Melancholy,’ III., ii., 2, 5, “ But of all others, that which Petrarch epist. 
fam. lib. I., 5. ep., relates of Charles the Great is most memorable .. .” 
Howell makes a poor thing of the tale when compared with Petrarch 
or Burton. “A Bishop taking it out of her mouth’’ becomes more 
intelligible when we find in Petrarch’s letter (No. 3 of the first book 
‘De Rebus Familiaribus ’) the Archbishop of Cologne offering fervent 
and continued prayer for his Lord’s recovery from this infatuation, 
until “‘post devotissimas preces pectus et aram lacrimis implenti de 
ccelo vox insonuit: sub extinctz mulieris lingua furoris regii causam 
latere.”’ : 

Did Thackeray take a hint from Howell for ‘The Rose and the Ring’ ? 


Book III., xxiii., p. 549, Daneus writes of an inchanted 
Staff, which the Devil, Summoner-like, was us’d to deliver 
some Market-women to ride upon. 


See Lambertus Danzus, ‘De Veneficis, quos olim Sortilegos, nune 
autem vulgo Sortiarios vocant, Dialogus,’ 1574, cap. IIII., p. 68, ‘*Ctm 
per suos discipulos & alios Sortiarios euocat, & locus & tempus pre: 
seribitur, ad quod in tam miseros ccetus & synagogas quas Satanica 
sabbatha vocant, veniant. Itaque euocati adsunt. Quod si quis eorum 
itineris longitudinem causetur, aut corporis imbecillitatem & laborem, 
aut denique hominum metum & periculum, iis omnibus excusationibus 
satisfacit ipse. Nam pollicetur in eum locum eos se esse delaturum, qui 

A.S.—VOL. V. F 


66 HOWELL’S LETTERS 


non possunt per vires corporis infirmas proficisci: sepe ope auxilioque 
baculi & virgee cuiusdam abs se date, aut etiam vi unguenti id se pres- 
taturum et effecturum docet: saepe denique equum illis offert quo 
vehantur.”’ 

The English version (‘A Dialogue of Witches. ...’ Printed by 
R. W. 1575) renders ‘‘sepe ope auxilioque baculi & virge cuiusdam,”’ 
*“by meanes of a staffe or rod.” 

Book III., xxii., p. 551, King James a great while was loth 
to believe there were Witches ; but that which happen’d to my 
Lord Francis of Rutland’s Children convine’d him, who were 
bewitch’d by an old Woman that was servant at Belvoir-Castle ; 
but being displeas’d, she contracted with the Devil (who con- 
vers’'d with her in form of a Cat, whom she call’d Rutterkin) 
to make away those children, out of mere malignity and thrist 
of revenge. : 

See ‘ The Wonderful Discoverie of the Witcherafts of Margaret and 
Phillip Flower, daughters of [oan Flower neere Beuer Castle: Executed 
at Lincolne, March 11, 1618,’ &c. Printed at London by G. Elid for 
I. Barnes, dwelling in the long Walke neere Christ-Church, 1619. And 
‘The History of Belvoir Castle’ by the Rev. Irvin Eller, 1841. 

Lord Francis of Rutland was Francis Manners who in 1612 succeeded 
his brother Roger as sixth Earl of Rutland. His sons whose deaths 
were set down to sorcery were Henry (+ 1613) and Francis (+ 1619). 

King James’s own ‘ Daemonologie’ of 1599 is enough to show that 
his convictions on the subject of Witches were of earlier date than the 
Belvoir incident. 

Book IV., iv., p. 559, Your Lordship knows that the xdoyoe, 
this fair frame of the Universe, came out of a Chaos, an indigested 
Lump; and that this elementary World was made of millions | 
of Ingredients repugnant to themselves in nature. 

See Ovid, * Met.’ 1.,. 5—9, 

Ante mare et terras et quod tegit omnia caelum 
Unus erat toto naturae vultus in orbe, 

Quem dixere Chaos: rudis indigestaque moles 

Nec quicquam nisi pondus iners congestaque eodem 
Non bene iunctarum discordia semina rerum. 

Book IV., vii., p. 567, If the Lady Barbara, wife to Sigismond 
the Emperor, being advis’d by her ghostly Father after his 
death to live like a Turtle, having lost such a Mate that the 
World had not the like, made this wanton answer, Father, since 
you would have me to lead the life of a Bird, why not of a Sparrow, 
as well as of a Turtle ? 


Amneas Sylvius (Pius II.) tells the story in his ‘In libros Antonii 
Panormite Poets, de dictis & factis Alphonsi regis memorabilibus 


HOWELL’S LETTERS 67 


Commentarius,’ ITI., 5, p. 486p of his ‘Opera que extant omnia,’ 
Basel, 1551, 

“Barbare que Sigismundi Cesaris uxor fuit, ac fatis functo uidua 
superstitit, cum sibi diceret aliquis imitandum turturis exemplum, que 
mortuo marito perpetuam castitatem seruaret, Si me ratione carentes 
imitari uolucres iubes, Cur non columbas potius passeresque proponis ?”’ 


Book IV., vi., p. 569,—Cornu ferit ille, Caveto. 


On this Jacobs observes that “‘H. was probably thinking of Horace, 
Sat. 1., iv., 34, foenum habet in cornu.’ Howell’s thoughts might with 
more propriety have been employed on Virgil, Eclogue ix., 25, 


Occursare capro (cornu ferit ille) caveto. 


The connexion, however, in which the words are quoted makes it 
possible that he remembered Paul Thomas’s epigram on p. 48 of Abraham 
Wright’s ‘ Delitiz Delitiarum,’ Oxford, 1637, 

Antea mitis erat Titus; at nune conjuge ducta 
Occursare Tito, cornu ferit ille, caveto. 


oor vii. p.572,-T7'0 Mrs. KH. B. 


Howell sends a “ Hexastic’’ with the above heading to help his 
cousin Tom Vaughan to prevail with his inamorata. The letter may 
be compared with that in Book I., Sect. 4, ix., p. 219, where Howell 
speaks of T. V.’s being upon a Treaty of Marriage. The tone of the 
present communication, with its repeated mention of the lady’s Portion, 
certainly does not suggest that Mr. Tom’s pursuit was “‘strictly dis- 
honourable’; and yet Jacobs ventures on this note: “Did Vaughan 
have aspirations after the wife of Benlowes, on whom see 489?” He 
adds, it is true, that “ ‘ Mrs.’ does not necessarily imply a married woman 
at this period.” 

In his letter to E. Benlowes on 489 sq., Il., lxiv., Howell professes 
himself “‘ready to correspond with you in the reciprocation of any other 
offices of Friendship ’’ and signs himself ‘‘ Your affectionate Servitor.”’ 
It would be a singular office of Friendship to assist in the seduction of 
Benlowes’s wife. 

But Jacobs, I am afraid, had not studied the entertaining account 
in Wood’s ‘ Fasti Oxonienses,’ under July 11, 1676, of Edward Bendlowes 
‘‘much noted in his time, but since not, for the Art and Faculty of 
Poetry, who had spent about eight Years in Oxon, partly in custody, 
but mostly in liberty and freedom in the public Library, and conversa- 
tion with ingenious Scholars.’’ We learn that “ being a very imprudent 
Man in matters of worldly concern, and ignorant as to the value or want 
of Money, he did, after he was invested in his Estate at Brent Hall and 
elsewhere, which amounted to seven hundred, some say a thousand, 
Pounds per an. make a shift, though never married, to squander it,’ &c. 
Where’s your Mrs. Benlowes now ? But Jacobs’s airy conjecture takes 
a substantial form in ints Index, which gives us “‘ Benlowes, Mrs. E., 
poems [sic] to, 572 n.’ 

There is a small view of Brent Hall, now a farm-house, near Finching- 
field, Essex, in Miss E. Vaughan’s Life of Stephen Marshall. 


68 HOWELL’S LETTERS 


Book IV., ix., p. 573, Now, he is the really rich man who 
can make true use of his riches; he makes not Nummum his 
Numen, Money his God, but makes himself Dominum Nummi, 
but becomes Master of his Penny. The first is the arrantest 
beggar and slave that is; nay, he is worse than the Arcadian 
Ass, who, while he carrieth Gold on his back, eats thistles. 


For the punning association of nummus with numen, cf. John Owen, 
+ Epigrammata,, I, ex. 5:6, 7; 
Anne deam quia te, Regina Pecunia, mundus 
AKstimat et nummo numen inesse putat ? 

The Ass carrying Gold, &c., was proveriial: Aristotle, Eth. Nic. X., 
v., 8, has xafdaeog “Hodxheitos gpynow dvov cieuat av éhéobar paddoy 7 
YOQUvdOY, 

In ‘ Anthol. Palat.’ xi., 397 (attrib. to Lucian) Artemidorus, a miser, 
is said to live a life like that of mules, : 

TTohAaxc at zZQvoov tipadpea Qootov exoveat 
ITohhov inég vadtov, yogtov oe Lovov. 

See ‘ Asinus stramenta mavult quam aurum ’ in Hrasmus’s ‘ adage 
ed. 1629, p. 402. Emblem 86 (85) of Alciatus depicts an ass laden 
with “ pretiosa obsonia”’ and eating a thistle. 


Books IVs) xa ap) a8: 
To the Lord Marquis of Dorchester. 


According to Jacobs the Marquis was previously known to us as 
Sir Dudley Carleton. This is a mistake. Sir Dudley Carleton (1573— 
1632) was created Baron Carleton of Imbercourt in 1626, and Viscount 
Dorchester two years later. The Marquis of Dorchester, created in 
1645, was Henry Pierrepont (1606-1680), second Earl of eee and 
first Baron Pierrepont. 


Book IV., xiv., p. 582, Yet the old British is not so driven 
out of mine (for the Cask savours still of the Liquor it first took 
in) but I can say something of this elaborate and ingenious 
Piece of yours, which you please to communicate to me so early. 


Howell is indebted to Horace, ‘ Epistles,’ I., ii., 69-70, 
Quo semel est inbuta recens, servabit odorem 
Testa diu. 


Book IV seeps 582, 
To J. S., Hsq., at White-Fryers. 


J. 8. is identified by Jacobs with the J. Sutton, Esq., to whom IV., 
xi. was addressed. May not John Selden be meant ? John Aubrey, 
‘Brief Lives,’ ed. A. Clark, 1898, vol. ii., 221, writes of him: 

‘“He never owned the mariage with the countesse of Kent till after 
her death, upon some lawe account. He never kept any servant peculiar, 
but my ladie’s were all at his command; he lived with her in A’dibus 
Carmeliticis (White Fryers), which was, before the conflagration, a noble 
dwelling.” 

A comparison of the present letter to J. S. with Howell’s letter to 


SN 


HOWELL’S LETTERS 69 


Selden which Jacobs printed for the first time, ‘Supplement,’ p. 660, 
will show that both are marked by a deferential attitude towards the 
recipient, one praising his sound and magisterial judgment, the other 
the fullness and universality of his knowledge; both are accompanied 
by a present, books or a pamphlet, and it so happens that there is a point 
of resemblance in expression (‘‘ This new piece of Philosophy comes 
to usher in the New Year to you’: ‘‘ These small pieces come to introduce 
me to your knowledge’’). | 

Book IV., xvii., pp. 585, 586, . . . which convinceth two 
Errors, one of Aristotle, who affirms that the Country of Gallia, 
tho’ bordering upon Spain, hath no Asses: If he were living 
now, he would avouch the greatest part of the Inhabitants to 
be all Asses, they lie under such an intolerable burden of taxes. 

Aristotle’s statement is made in his ‘ Hist. Animal.’; he assigns the 
climate as the cause: Iloddayod 6é xai 4 xodotc aitia, oiov éy tH TAAvgior 
nal th Ooaxn xai tH “Haeiow of vot pwixool, év O& tH LuvOixn nai Kedrixyj 
OAws ob yiyvovtar’ dvoxeieoa yag tavta. H.A. VIII., xxvii. (xxviii.), 5, 
606b. 

Book IV., xxiii., p. 600, I present you with the second part 
of the Vocal Forest. 

In his note Jacobs says that the second part appeared in 1644. This 
is an error. He has given the date of the second edition of the first. 
On his own showing, ‘ Bibliographical List,’ no. 35, the second part was 
published in 1650. 

Book IV., xxiii., p. 601, We read that there one a high 
feud *twixt Cicero and Vatinius, who had crooked bow-legs, 
Vatinius having the advantage of pleading first, took occasion 
to give a touch himself-of his natural imperfection that way, 
that he might tollere ansam, that he might by way of prevention 
cut off the advantages and intention which Cicero might have 
had to asperse him in that particular. 

Seneca writes of Vatinius, ‘‘In pedes suos ipse plurima dicebat et 
in fauces concisas: sic inimicorum, quos plures habebat quam morbos, 
et in primis Ciceronis urbanitatem effugerat.” 

‘Dialog! TT xvii-.,) 3. 

Book IV., xxvii., p. 605, Touching your Poet-Laureat 
Skelton . . . there be some Lines of his, which I think will 
never be out of date for their quaint sense: and with these 
I will close this Letter, and salute you, as he did his Friend, 
with these options : 

Salve plus decies quam sunt momenta dierum, 
Quot species generum, quot res, quot nomina rerum, 
Quot pratis flores, quot sunt et in orbe colores, 


70 HOWELL’S LETTERS 


Quot pisces, quot aves, quot sunt et in eequore naves, 
Quot volucrum penne, quot sunt tormenta gehenne, 
Quot celo stelle, quot sunt miracula Thome : 

Quot sunt virtutes, tantas tibi mitio salutes. 


Jacobs notes that these lines are printed on the reverse of the title- 
pages of Skelton’s Workes, ed. 1568. It might be added that their 
thought is not original. It is found, for example, in Theodulfus, 
‘Carmina,’ iv., 687—690, 

Imber habet liquidas quot guttas, flumina pisces, 
Emittit frondes quot nemus omne virens, 

Area grana solet quot habere estate, salutes 
Tot tibi mitto, vale semper ubique pater. 


Book IV., xxviii., p. 606, Strabo makes it one of his argu- 
ments to prove the Britons barbarous, because they had not 
the Art of making Cheese till the Romans came. 


The passage in Strabois IV., 5, 2; C. 200, Ta 0° #7 ta wéy Guota Tots 
Keltoic ta 0° anhovotegu xai PagBaedteoa, wot’ éviovg yalaxtos einogovv- 
tas pi) Tvoonolety Ota Thy azEotay. 


Book IV., xxix., p. 606, 
To W. Roberts, Hsq. 


‘* Another letter to him, 487,” says Jacobs, ‘‘ Perhaps to be identified 
with the W. Roberts who afterwards became Bishop of Bangor.”’ 

There is no letter to any W. Roberts on p. 487. What we do find 
on that page is the following statement, in the course of a letter to Mr. 
T. V. at Brussels: ‘* William Ro: is return’d from the Wars, but he 
is grown lame in one of his Arms, so he hath no mind to bear Arms any 
more ; he confesseth himself to be an egregious fool to leave his Mercer- 
ship and go to be a Musqueteer.”’ 

The letter just quoted bears the date of 1644. ‘So that, if we accept. 
Jacobs’s suggestion, it was his bishopric, not his mercership, that William 
Ro: left to go soldiering, for the Right Rev. William Roberts was 
presiding over the diocese of Bangor as early as 1637! 


Book IV., xxxii., p. 611, For myself, I am like an Almanack 
out of date, I am grown an unprofitable thing, and good for 
nothing as the times run; yet in your business I shall play the 
Whetstone, which tho’ it be a dull thing of itself, and cannot 
cut, yet it can make other bodies to cut. 

Ergo fungar vice cotis, acutum 
Reddere que ferrum valet exsors ipsa secandi. 
Horace, ‘ Ars Poetica,’ 304, 305. 

Book IV., xxxv., p. 617, You know that once a Stable was 
made a Temple, but now a Temple is become a Stable among us. 
Proh swperi! quantum mortalia pectora Cece Noctis habent. 


HOWELL’S LETTERS 71 


Jacobs includes the authorship of this quotation among his ‘ Queries,’ 
p. 808, as one of the points “which, according to my plan, I should 
have liked to have found something about, but have failed.”’ 

The words are from Ovid, ‘ Met.’ vi., 472 sq. 


Book IV., xxxvi., p. 621, Some shallow-pated Puritan, in 
reading this, will shoot his bolt, and presently cry me up to 
have a Pope in my belly. 


Macaulay, in his account of the trial of the seven Bishops, mentions 
that after their acquittal, Cartwright, Bishop of Chester, James II.’s 
supporter, who had come to Westminster to hear the verdict, “‘ was 
recognised by his sacerdotal garb and by his corpulent figure, and was 
hooted through the hall. ‘Take care,’ said one, ‘of the wolf in sheep’s 
clothing.’ ‘Make room,’ cried another, ‘for the man with the Pope 
in his belly.’ ”’ 

In a footnote Macaulay quotes his authority, a dispatch of the Dutch 


Ambassador, Arnold van Citters. 


Book IV., xxxvi., p. 623, 
—Fas est & ab Hoste doceri. 


From Ovid, ‘ Met.,’ IV., 428, 
Ipse docet quid agam (fas est et ab hoste doceri). 


book IV. xl, p.. 627, 
To Mr. T. C., at his House upon Tower-hill. 


On “T. C.” Jacobs has the following note: 

“Query T. Carew, who is referred to as meeting H. at supper at 
Ben Jonson’s (supra, p. 403). . . . If authentic and addressed to Carew, 
it must have been in H.’s hands since before 1639, when Carew died. 
It might also be T. Carey, brother of the Earl of Monmouth, whom H. 
mentions supra, 193. . . . He died in 1648, so this identification implies 
a long period (seven years) between the writing and the publication 
of this letter.” 

But on p. 403, Bk. II., xiu1., Howell does not mention the poet Carew 
by name. It is “YZ. Ca.,”’ and on this Jacobs’s comment is “‘ Perhaps 
T. Carew, one of the ‘Tribe of Ben.’ There is a letter to T. C. in Book 
IV., infra, p. 627, but this cannot well be Carew, who died 1639, etat. 
50. . . . T. Cary is another and more likely candidate for identification. 
See on p. 627.”’ But the note to p. 193 (Bk. I., Sect. 3, xxx.) informs 
us that the Mr. Thomas Cary of that passage was “related to Sir R. 
‘Cary to whom H. has a letter infra, p. 574” [Bk. IV., x., dated 1654], 
and the note on him refers us to Forster, ‘Grand Remonstrance,’ 99 ; 
Nicholls, iu1., 804 n. [Nichols, ii., 604 is meant], and pass. 

All this affords an interesting example of editorial opportunism. 
Had Jacobs any firm opinion on T. C.’s identity ? It may be added 
that, while T. C. of the superscription lived on Tower-hill, Thomas 
Carew’s house was in King Street, Westminster, a more convenient 
situation for one attached to the Court, and that he was not fifty at the 
time of his death. 


72 HOWELL’S LETTERS 


Book IV., xlviii., p. 639, 
To the R.H. the E. of S. 


Jacobs’s note is “‘ #. of S[underland]. See on p. 251.’”’ But the note 
on p. 251 refers to “‘ Emanuel Scrope, 11 Baron Scrope of Bolton ”’ 
who ‘‘ was created Earl of Sunderland 19th June, 1627” and “died 
1630,” while the present letter, though undated, besides mentioning 
Donna Olympia and the Pope [Innocent X. elected 1644], shows that 
the Earl had written about Howell’s ‘ Lustra Ludovici’ (1646) and 
‘Survey of [the Signorie of] Venice’ (1651). The Earl then, if of Sun- 
derland, must be Robert Spencer, the well-known politician (1640-1702), 
son of the second Earl, Henry (1620-1643), and Lady Dorothy Sidney 
(““Sacharissa’’). But he could not have been more than fifteen years old 
when this (undated) letter was published. 


Book IV., xlix., p. 641, 
To the R. H. the Earl Rivers, at his House in Qisen: street, 
. my Lord Marquis of Winchester (your Brother). 


On ‘Earl Rivers”’ Jacobs notes, ‘‘ Probably T. Savage, the sixth 
Earl to come to the title in 1654.” (Taken literally this would imply 
a furious mortality in that noble house.) But the (first) wife of John 
Paulet, fifth Marquis of Winchester, was Jane eldest daughter of Thomas 
first Viscount Savage and sister of John Savage second Viscount, who 
succeeded in 1640 as second Earl of Rivers of that creation. His son 
Thomas succeeded as third Earl in 1654. 


Payne Fisher’s ‘ Encomium,’ lines 4-6, p. 688, 
Nempe novum Monidum Proles Montaccola fontem 
Ostendit, sacrasq ; aperit TPritonidis arces 
Howelli Generosa Domus. 


Jacobs’s note on ‘‘ Montaccola”’ is, “This should give the name 
of H.’s birthplace: unfortunately it is unknown to Record searchers 
(it is not ineluded, e.g., in C. T. Martin, Record Interpreter, list of Latin 
names of British localities). Mr. Martin suggests that the name must 
begin with Pen. It is equally likely to be Bryn, which is also a hill or 
mount.” 

Why all this pother ? Has ‘“‘ Montaccola’”’ any more specific meaning 
than ‘“‘ Welsh” or “highlander”? ? In ‘Dodona’s Grove,’ p. 46, ed. 
prine., “‘ Monticolia ’’ = ‘* Wales.” 


The ‘Encomium ’ is fearfully and wonderfully misprinted by Jacobs. 
Fontem, 1. 4, appears as fortem ; flebilis, 1, 87, which in the 1664 edition 
was flebilis, is now still further disguised as stebiliis (!); delegit, 1. 100, 
is turned into delecti; and the absurd blunder of the 1664 ed. by which 
in line 154 Orasimosn lacertos appears as the end of a hexameter is 
repeated without comment. 


That I am conscious of the infirmities of the late Mr. Jacobs 
as an annotator would be no unfair inference from some of my 


HOWELL’S LETTERS 73 


remarks. I can honestly say that the further I go in my 
endeavour to trace Howell’s multifarious and discursive allusions 
the more profoundly am I conscious of my own infirmity, but 
then I am not—so far—editing the Hpistole Ho-Elhane. 


EDWARD BENSLY. 


THE CAULDRON IN RITUAL AND MYTH 


In Dr. Farnell’s Hero-Cults1 an inscription is quoted which is 
perhaps unique among the epigraphs of ancient Greece. It is 
found on a monument erected in behalf of the safety of the 
Emperor Trajan by a certain Menneas. But the interest attaches 
in this instance not to the august emperor but to his humble 
worshipper, for of the latter it is said that he was ‘ apotheosized 
in the cauldron which is used for the ritual of the festivals.’ ? 

Such apotheosis may be a legitimate development of certain 
aspects of Greek Religion. The cult of the dead, especially of 
the heroised dead, the eschatology of the Eleusinian Mysteries 
and of Orphism, and the divine possession of a devotee of Iacchus 
or of Cybele, all point to a tentative belief that it was possible 
to bridge over the gulf that separated mortal and immortal. 
This would seem to be man’s main concern at certain stages of 
religious development. But of festivals in which apotheosis 
was actually conferred by means of a cauldron there is no trace 
in genuine Greek religion, and Menneas may have belonged to a 
riotous Oriental cult. 

But there are a few references to the cauldron in Greek 
mythology, which, combined with parallels from other sources, 
may serve to show that this apotheosis in a cauldron is quite in 
keeping with certain features of early religion. 

In ancient Greece the cauldron appears in the legend of 
Athamas and Ino Leukothea. The story followed by Euripides 
and his scholiast ? makes Ino in her madness slay both of her 
sons Learchos and Melikertes and then leap into the sea. No 
mention is made of how she destroyed them or of what became 
of their bodies. Apollodoros,! however, while referring to only 
one of her sons, Melikertes, states that Ino plunged him into a 


1 
- =p. 43. 
2 Orient. Graec. Inscr. 611—dzo00ewbértog év tH AEBy tr Ov 0d ai EoQtai 
ayovtar, 
3 Medeia, 1284. 4 Bitlhioth. III, 28. 


75 


76 THE CAULDRON IN RITUAL AND MYTH 


boiling cauldron. But here again both the motive and effect 
are absent. A Scholiast on Pindar ! is more instructive, giving 
two accounts of the story. In the first account Ino rescues 
Melikertes from being plunged into the boiling cauldron by 
Athamas, who had already destroyed Learchos. But in the 
second account Ino places the slain Learchos in the boiling 
cauldron. The only effect, however, is her own madness and 
her leap into the sea. Evidently, therefore, the cauldron was 
not an essential part of the Athamas-legend in.the view of the 
later Greeks. But the legend seems to have been distorted from 
its original form, for what is here a mere chance reference to the 
cauldron becomes in other legends an integral part of the story. 
It is by means of the cauldron, that Rhea or Klotho, restores to 
life the child Pelops after he had been mangled by his father.? 
Medeia renewed the youth of Jason by boiling him. This is the 
story as given by Dikaiarchos in his argument to the Medesa of 
Euripides: ‘ Pherekydes and Simonides say that Medeia made 
Jason young again by boiling him. Concerning his father Aison 
the author of the Nostoi says : 


‘““Immediately she made Aison young in the flower of youth, 
Stripping off his old age by the cunning of her wit, 
By boiling many a magic drug in golden cauldrons.” ’ 3 


Dikaiarchos continues: ‘ A’schylus in his “‘ Nurses of Dionysos ” 
relates that Medeia renewed the youth of the Nurses and their 
husbands by boiling them.’ 

Finally, we have the legend of Medeia applying the same 
process to a ram.4 7 

The means by which Aison was rejuvenated should be noticed. 
In the other legends rejuvenescence is conferred on the patient 
by putting him in the cauldron and boiling him. But Aison is 
restored to youth not directly by the virtues of the boiling vessel, 
but by certain drugs which have first been boiled in the cauldron, 
presumably either to impart efficacy to them or to increase the 
magical power already inherent in them. Anyhow, we seem to 
have here an idea that the very act of boiling was a magical 


TOL Me eaten 40: ve 
2 See Bloch in Roscher’s Lexikon, III, col. 1870. 
3 Aitixa 0° Aioova Oijxe pilov xdoov 7iBdovrta, 
yijeas anogvcaca idvinat noanidecot, 
gdeuaxa n0Al’ épovo’ éni yovoeloior AgByow. 
4 Apollodor. I, 144; Pansanias, 8, 11, 2; Hygin. Fab. 24. 


THE CAULDRON IN RITUAL AND MYTH ai 


process. Such an idea may lie at the root of an Indian tale 
concerning Nadir Shah.! This potentate refused to eat the 
‘“masur dal’ (lentils) which his cook had boiled for him ina pot. 
Thereupon the cook threw the contents of the pot on a dry log 
which happened to be lying near. Next morning, when Nadir 
arose, he saw that the dry log was covered with green leaves, 
wherever the boiled lentils had fallen on it. 

Dr. Frazer 2? compares the use of the cauldron with the use 
of fire in certain Oriental and Greek legends, e.g. the burning of 
Sardanapallos and Kroisos * and the stories of goddesses like Isis, 
Thetis, and Demeter trying to confer immortality on the infant 
sons of kings by burning them. He takes the words of Plutarch 4 
‘to burn out the mortal parts of the body’ as supplying the key 
to these strange legends. The sacredness of fire is a well-known 
fact in primitive religion. Being itself sacred it can clean man 
of his defilements and is constantly found in rituals of purification, 
while its use as an ‘ ordeal,’ which was known to the Greeks,® 
may be connected with the same belief. Or the idea may be 
that fire infuses new life into those subjected to its heat. As 
therefore, in Plutarch’s words, the mortal parts of man can be 
burnt away, so in the cauldron-legends old age can be driven off 
and youth restored by boiling, a process which is the result of 
‘negative ’ and ‘ positive ’magiccombined. On this assumption, 
whatever virtue is conferred by boiling is due to the fire which 
is the cause of that phenomenon. If the cause is sacred and full 
of magic, so is the effect. 

This comparison of the cauldron and fire seems to receive 
some confirmation from the fact that they respectively play a 
part in two different versions of the story concerning Thetis. 
In Apollodoros *§ and Apollonios Rhodios? fire is the element by 
means of which she endeavours to bestow the gift of immortality 
on her sons. But the scholiast on Apollonios * quotes the un- 
known author of the ‘ Algimios’ epic as saying that ‘ Thetis 


1 Balochi Tales, XXI, in Folklore, vol. VIII, p. 78. 

4G. B.3 IV, p. 39: 3 Bakchyl, III, 28 foll. 

40s. et Is. 16—zeoixalew ta Ovynta tod chpatos. 

5 Soph. Ant. 264—juev 0 étosor xai pvdgodvs aigew yEeooir, xai ade 
OvgomEw, “al Deovs OQXWUOTEW H.T.<é. 

ON aa Ge | 74, 865-879. 

84, 876—6 tov Ailpiwwov xnoijoas yor, ott 7 Oé€tic cic A€Bytu bdatos 
Céovta évéBahe todo éx IIndéws yevopévovg abt maidac, Bovhouéyn sidévar ei 
Ovntot eiow* éxegor O€ eic ndQ, Ws ‘AnodAdyids pynot. Cf. Lykophron, 1782. 


78 THE CAULDRON IN RITUAL AND MYTH 


threw her sons by Peleus into a cauldron of boiling water, wishing 
to know if they were mortal.’ Then he gives another version 
that the children were thrown into the fire. Here the cauldron 
and the fire are interchangeable, both being regarded as a test 
forimmortality. But it is evident that the same notion of magical 
efficacy hes behind these stories as gave rise to the other stories 
of Isis and Demeter, where it is explicit that the object of the 
ordeal by fire was to confer immortality. Demeter had come 
to the house of Keleus in the disguise of a nurse. Wishing to 
make requital for the hospitality she received, the goddess set 
about roasting her host’s son with the view of making him 
immortal. Frustrated by the infant’s mother, the goddess 
replies ‘Iste quidem mortalis erit.’ 1 

If Medeia’s cauldron can restore lost youth and even life 
itself, the story of the same utensil being used as a test for, or a 
means of conferring, immortality, is quite a logical development. 
In fact the story of Thetis may be a distortion, by way of creating 
an interesting and exciting fiction, of a ritual of pretty much the 
same kind as Menneas underwent at his apotheosis. 

A like magical potency belongs to the cauldron in certain 
legends of Celtic mythology, as for example in the history of 
Taliesin. Kerridwen had an ugly son named Avagddu. ‘To 
compensate for his ugliness she determined to make him an 
adept in science. For this purpose she boiled a cauldron of 
poesy and science, which was to boil for a whole year, and in 
charge of which she put Mordar and Gwion. Accidentally three 
drops of the boiling liquid fell on Gwion’s hand, putting which ~ 
to his mouth he became omniscient. Being in wrongful posses- 
sion of this gift he was pursued by Kerridwen. With the aid of 
certain metamorphoses Gwion succeeds in evading capture for 
atime. At last Kerridwen, herself metamorphosed into a black- 
crested hen, catches him in the form of a grain of wheat and eats 
him. He is reborn, placed in a hide and put out to sea. When 
picked up at Aberdovey, he is the precocious babe Talie- 
sin. Truly a wonderful series of effects from the boiling of the 
cauldron. 

Again, in the Welsh poem on ‘ The Harrying of Hades,’ ® the © 
invaders found the cauldron of the Head of Hades, which was 

1 Ovid, Fasti, IV, 559. Cf. Hom. Hymnin. Cer. 256 ff. 


2 Rhys, Celtic Heathendom, pp. 544 foll. 
3. Rhys, op. cit., p. 256. 


THE CAULDRON IN RITUAL AND MYTH 79 


kept ever boiling and from which voices issued. Then there is 
the cauldron mentioned in the Mabinogi of Branwen. One of 
the properties of this cauldron brings it into close resemblance 
with that of Medeia. Tor, if a dead warrior was placed in it over 
night, in the morning he would be alive and weil, though unable 
to speak. 

Teutonic mythology, too, has its cauldrons. 


“Once upon a time the Atsir and Vanir made a covenant of peace, 
and in token of it each stepped up to a vessel and let fall into it his 
spittle. Out of this token of peace the gods shaped a man named 
Kvasir, who travelled far and wide and taught men wisdom. But 
when he came to the dwelling of two dwarfs, Fialar and Galar, they 
slew him and let his blood run into two vats anda cauldron. Then they 
mixed the blood with honey, and of this was made a costly mead, 
which imparted to all who tasted it the gift of poesy and wisdom.’ ! 


It is to be noted that in the last example there is no mention 
of boiling the contents of the cauldron. The other legends make 
boiling an essential part of the wonder-working of the cauldron. 
In the bubbling and seething of the liquid man might see some- 
thing at work as strange, as mysterious, as full of an unknown 
force as fire itself. But where there is no mention of boiling the 
problem is different. Hither the substances placed in the cauldron 
were sacred and full of magical power in themselves, or they 
derived these properties from contact with the material of which 
the cauldron was made. When we read that the Cimbri em- 
ployed bronze cauldrons’ in divination,’ it is allowable to ask 
whether the virtue lay in the vessel as such or the material of it ? 

But from the frequency with which blood is found in the 
cauldrons, at least in Teutonic legend, it is permissible to suppose 
that the vessel owed its magic-working properties to constant 
association with this vital fluid. Blood is everywhere regarded 
as having the highest degree of ‘mana,’ the unseen force of 
which life in all its forms is the manifestation, and of which 
early man is remarkably conscious. The Cimbri performed 
a ritual in which a huge cauldron was filled with the victim’s 
blood. Then the prophetess stood over it and made her 
divination. In a cauldron of the Suevi mentioned in the life 
of St. Columba? the ritual liquid is ale, and Grimm suggests 


1Grimm, Teut. Myth. 3, pp. 902 foll. (Trans.). 
2 Grimm, op. cit. I, p. 55; Strabo, 7, 3 (p. 294 C., 244 Didot). 
3 Grimm, op. cit. I, p. 55. 


80 THE CAULDRON IN RITUAL AND MYTH 


that the ceremony described may have been that of a drink- 
offering. On the other hand, it seems to have been a more or 
less general practice to have huge cauldrons made for the purpose 
of catching the victim’s blood.? 

But there is one serious difficulty in the way of this solution, 
and that is the prominence of women in cauldron-ritual. If the 
cauldron originally owed its religious or magical force to its 
typical use as a receptacle for “ holy’ blood, it is difficult to see 
how women could have played so large a part in the supervision 
of such ceremonies. In the early stages of religious thought it — 
seems that women were believed to vitiate by their presence 
anything religiously symbolical of virile growth. At Rome, for 
example, women were excluded from the worship of Hercules, 
the personification of virility.2 This taboo is seen with even 
greater force and more directly connected with blood among the 
Arunta tribe of Central Australia. There, the blood that is let 
during the circumcision of a male initiate is poured into the earth 
at a spot where a sign is afterwards put up to warn women against 
approaching. 

Besides, a cauldron is more natural as a boiling utensil than 
as a receptacle for blood. Sacrifice by boiling was fairly common,* 
and women would appropriately superintend this task. Hence 
we may explain the predominance of that sex in Teutonic divina- 
tion. ‘ While history has not preserved the name of one German 
vates, it has that of several priestesses.’> Strabo,® it is true, 
states that the Cimbrian women divined over the blood in the 
cauldron, but he immediately shows that this was not an indis- | 
pensable element for divination.?, What early imagination may 
have seen in the phenomenon of a boiling liquid may perhaps be 
guessed from Grimm’s explanation of an old German word for 
magician. ‘Seidmadr is magician, seidkona, seydkona, a 
wise woman that skills to seethe and work magic.’® Any fluid 
can be made to seethe, and Kerridwen’s magic cauldron, con- 
taining not blood but magic herbs, has the property of conferring 


1Grimm, op. cit. I, p. 56. 

2 Warde Fowler, Roman Festivals, pp. 102, 194. 

3 Durkheim, Les formes élémentaires de la vie religieuse, p. 114. 

4Grimm, op. cit. I, p. 55; Herodot. 4, 61. 

5 Grimm, I, p. 95. 6 Strabo, lc. 

* Ibid. GAAa 62 dvacyicaca éonddyyvevoy dvagbeyyduevar vixny ois 
OlxELolc. 

8 Grimm, op. cit. 3, p. 1046. 


THE CAULDRON IN RITUAL AND MYTH 81 


the gift of wisdom, which in early religion is hardly separable 
from the gift of divination. Woman is universally regarded as 
more susceptible to the divine afflatus, and this, perhaps, is 
another reason for the predominance of women in cauldron- 
ritual. In ancient Greece and Rome divination by women fell 
into disrepute, except where, as at Delphi, the female became 
subordinated to a higher god. In Western Europe, however, 
it would seem that female soothsayers were cast outside the pale 
of respectable society only with the advent and growing strength 
of Christianity. But the witches’ cauldron died hard. Its wide- 
spread use and its persistent survival seem attested by a Salic 
law, which mentions gatherings of witches for cooking ! and by 
another, which accounts it the greatest insult to call a man a 
‘witches’ kettle-bearer.’ ? 

If, therefore, we assume that the starting point of the caul- 
dron’s career in myth and ritual was its use for boiling the sacred 
victim, there are widespread instances to show how often an 
instrument or utensil used for sacred purposes gradually acquires 
a sacred or magical character itself. Such a religious phenomenon 
is by no means rare. Indeed it would seem that it is inevitable 
in religion for the end to be forgotten in the means, for the distant 
object of worship to be neglected in favour of the near and tangible 
image, symbol or instrument. The Arval Brethren of Ancient 
Rome actually made offerings to the pots they used in their 
ceremonies.’ Similarly in the ritual of the Todas of the Nilghiri 
Hills worship has been transferred from the gods to the material 
used in their service. Perhaps the reductio ad absurdum of this 
tendency is afforded by a custom among the Indians of the hill 
country south of the Ganges. In the village shrines there 1s 
commonly found an implement known as the ‘Gurda.’ This is 
an iron chain with a heavy knob at the end to which a strap like 
a Scotch tawse is often attached. It hangs from the roof of the 
shrine, and is used by the priest to thrash himself in the ceremony 
of exorcising a disease ghost. Among the more primitive Gonds 
this chain has become a godling and is regularly worshipped.* 

‘The cauldron figures in a curious piece of Lincolnshire folklore. 


1 Toid., p. 1045. 2 Grimm, zbid. 

3 “In mensa sacrum fecerant ollis ’ and ‘in aedem intraverunt et ollas 
precati sunt,’ v. Fowler, Roman Religious Experience, quoting from 
Henzen, Acta Fratrum Arvalium, pp. 26-27. 

4 Crooke, Popular Religion and Folklore of Northern India, p. 99. 

A S.—VOL. V. | G 


82 THE CAULDRON IN RITUAL AND MYTH 


In the cellar of a farm in that county was an old iron cauldron 
full of sand and bones. Ifthe latter were disturbed, ‘ Hobthrust,’ 
a sort of Robin-Goodfellow, or Brownie, would show himself at 
noon.! ‘To people who believe that they are surrounded by spirits 
and daemons of all sorts, a capacious cauldron would naturally 
seem to be a lurking place for such disturbers of the domestic 
peace. Indeed, much smaller vessels can serve such a purpose. 
In many parts of the world when a death takes place all the 
vessels are inverted to prevent the dead man’s ghost finding a 
refuge.? In India * we have many instances of sacred jars or 
pots being used for storing the image of a god. So common is 
this practice that the pot itself becomes the symbol of the god, 
and is accordingly worshipped, and there is a Grama-devata or 
village deity who fulfils the functions of a pot-goddess. A similar 
phenomenon is found in Ancient Egypt. 


‘ According to some accounts Canobus was worshipped in the shape 
of a jar with small feet, a thin neck, a swollen body and a round neck. 
On the Egyptian monuments we find a number of jars with the head 
either of some animal or human being at the top. It may be that 
some deities were symbolically represented in this manner.’ 


If, therefore, as the Lincolnshire folk-tale might suggest, the 
cauldron could, like these sacred jars, be the dwelling-place of a 
spirit, we have another contributing cause of its power in ritual 
and myth. Primarily it may have owed its power to its use as a 
sacred utensil, but we must not rule out the other possible factors, 
the magic nature of the contents generally found in it at sacred 
rites, and a belief that it was the resting-place of spirits. 


J. J. JONES. 


1 Folklore, Vol. VIII, p. 68. 
2 Jevons, Plutarch’s Rom. Quest., p. XXXviii. 
3 Crooke, ‘The Binding of a God,’ in Folklore, Vol. VIII, p. 324. 


CONDUCT AND THE EXPERIENCE OF VALUE 
) Saem WT | 


In my last article! I described shortly the relation between the 
particular values (goodness, beauty, and truth) and the more 
ultimate thing that we can only call Value, into which they must 
sink if they are to be full and complete. JI now propose to show 
a little more fully how this happens and how a recognition of the 
interdependence, the interpenetrability, the cognateness of the 
values must affect our notions of morality. It is quite essential 
that we should pass from the particular experience of value to 
a universal one, that we should realise through values Universal 
Value itself. For example, the particular value realised in the 
esthetic experience is beauty, beauty appearing in, embodied in, 
some concrete object. This beauty seems to one who contem- 
plates it to be self-sufficing and self-contained, to lead in itself 
to nothing but itself, although afterwards it may, as we said, lead 
to the desire for art creation. The emotion evoked is intense, 
but in its balance so satisfying that there seems no need to 
supplement it by thinking or doing. Beauty is enough. Yet 
while this is within its own limits undoubtedly true, and whilst 
the man who insists that we should think significant thoughts 
whilst we delight in beauty is a fool as well as a prig (for to 
analyse and to think significant thoughts is the very contradiction 
of the beauty experience), yet beauty cannot mature to its full 
fruition until it fulfils itself, until it reveals its universal value ; 
for the feeling for beauty is just the feeling for universal value par 
excellence. That is to say, although beauty must be experienced 
through particular ways, must reveal itself in particular objects, 
this revelation must be a learning through beauties of what Beauty 
itself is, an increasing understanding of the universal beauty that 
is everywhere, in everything good, in everything true. To say 
this is not to make any easy identification of Beauty with Good- 
ness or Truth; it is rather to assert that the universe is one, 


1 See Aberystwyth Studies, Vol. IV, pp. 145-152. 
83 


84 CONDUCT AND THE EXPERIENCE OF VALUE 


and that if we dig deeply enough into the heart of any partic- 
ular, we come upon one of the three fundamental values; and, 
exploring this, we at last touch what we can only call Value 
itself. Beauty comes to us through the senses in particular ways, 
but it is necessary that we should either, intensively, by vision 
and reflection, understand the universal through the particular, 
or that we should be able, extensively, to understand beauty in 
several of its recognised forms, such as nature, music, sculpture, 
painting, architecture, poetry. Furthermore, we must broaden 
our understanding so that we can know and distinguish beauty 
in ideas and in character and conduct. This is what I mean 
when I maintain that beauties must become Beauty, and Beauty 
must become Universal Value. The particular experience of 
beauty is self-contained and although, if it is truly felt it never 
fails to penetrate beyond mere particularity, and to yield the 
feeling of universality, it yet tends, in its completeness and self- 
containedness, to retain the impress of its particular form, and 
to lead to a false idea of the importance and the uniqueness of 
that form. It leads the lover of sculpture, for example, to think 
of beauty as somewhat exclusively wedded to solid form, to 
imagine the universal tied in a particular way to a particular 
thing. It is true, as I have said again and again, that beauty 
must appear thus particularly, but the feeling of universality in 
the mature intense esthetic experience is a testimony that, 
though felt through the particular, yet it is through it, and not 
really in it; whilst a broader esthetic training in all forms of 
beauty, not excluding beauty of ideas and character, further 
teaches us, by revealing it to us from different points of view, 
that beauty is a true universal value. Further, this broader 
training modifies and enriches, I think, the actual particular 
experiences of beauty. And further still, the breadth and 
meaning of beauty must be made clearer, if the beauty experience 
is to be a truly universal one, by reflection and thought — not at 
the moment of the experience itself (for that, as we saw, would 
destroy it, and would be a priggish attempt to introduce a 
wrong kind of moral self-consciousness at a moment when it 
is out of place) but afterwards, and in order that the particular 
experience may be able to penetrate, and to penetrate with more 
meaning, all sides of our nature. If training in beauty of all 
kinds has its effects not only on the emotional experience itself, 
making that a deeper and a richer thing, but stimulates thought 


CONDUCT AND THE EXPERIENCE OF VALUE 85 


and reflection about the universal nature of beauty ; so must 
thought and feeling themselves independently point out of what 
universal import is this value of beauty and of how it must, if 
it is to have its full meaning, be appreciated by all sides of our 
nature. I do not mean that in order to realise the universal 
import of beauty it is necessary to construct a complete philosophy 
of it—though all knowledge must of necessity help to enhance 
its meaning— but I do maintain that if it is to make its neces- 
sary mark upon character, mind must use all the powers it 
possesses to grasp its meaning. 

I thus stress the importance of reflection and breadth of 
outlook for the fruition of the beauty experience, because this 
is itself primarily a feeling experience concentrated on a particular 
object of a particular kind; and feeling without thought tends 
at least to be blind. Beauty, just because it is so intrinsic, so 
self-contained, and because it is revealed in certain sensuous 
objects, might, however universal it feels, be thought to end in 
itself, and to be the only reality in the world. Whilst I believe 
that the fact of beauty is one which has been too much 
neglected by morality and religion, and that it is in reality of a 
far higher importance in life than is usually supposed, yet it 
would obviously not be true to say that beauty 7s reality or even 
the most important thing in reality. It is just because esthetic 
sensibility tends to lead to estheticism, the notion that the only 
passage to reality is through beauty, and sometimes the notion 
that Beauty is itself the reality to which beauty leads— it is 
because of this that reflection is needed as a counter-agent. 

Just the opposite counter-agent is needed by those who 
find value in truth. Truth, unlike beauty, is its own corrective, 
in the sense that it reveals its own universality. The philosopher, 
if we may take him as the type of thinker par excellence, is less 
likely than others to err by excessive particularity. Indeed his 
tendency may be, in his desire to make knowledge systematic 
and a whole, to underestimate the particular, and to render 
¢xplanation offact by what are popularly called ‘ vague generali- 
ties.’ It is, then, the danger of the philosophic thinker that he 
may see things in an artificially simple way, that he may be 
tempted, for the sake of symmetry, to postulate unities where 
there are really differences. But this is not the danger which I 
was referring to when I said that the pursuit of truth needed a 
counter-agent. The danger of too great generality, too great and 


86 CONDUCT AND THE EXPERIENCE OF VALUE 


too exclusive an emphasis on the universal, can be avoided 
through a discipline within the sphere of the intellectual life 
itself, by a resolve to treat facts as they are, to combine with 
the a priors method of reasoning a healthy empiricism. No, as 
the supplement to the beauty experience, which is mainly one 
of feeling, must be reflection, so it is in feeling that we must find 
the supplement to the life of reflection itself. That truth is a 
value, an intrinsic and not an instrumental value, as the prag- 
matist would have it, is no doubt an assumption to those who 
live the intellectual life, and the realisation of the existence of 
that value a motive to it. But it must be more than this, if as 
a value experience it is to affect character and conduct. The 
intellectual life, as we know, can be a very pleasant sort of game, 
indulged in (at least if you are a certain kind of philosopher) after 
dinner in an armchair as an equivalent of chess or some more 
or less absorbing pastime. Such a pursuit of thought can end 
in quite often important results for knowledge, but that know- 
ledge, for those who have found it, has not been in any sense a 
passion. To realise truth as value it must be so. Truth must 
be felt to be intrinsically a fine thing, and to find it a noble 
pursuit. It must take hold of its devotees and stab them alive 
to its own necessity. I do not mean that truth is itself an 
emotion—that would be nonsense— but that the value of truth 
must be emotioned, that the reality which truth reveals must 
stir us with ever-deepening wonder in the unity which, even 
but as in a glass darkly, we are able to discover through all 
reality. That emotion which we experience in the knowledge of 
universal unity which comes sometimes in our pursuit of know- 
ledge, may have in it an esthetic element, although not esthetic 
if that means ‘ of the senses.’ It must, whatever it be, penetrate 
beyond the merely intellectual life ; it must, if we go deep enough, 
reveal beauty because (although if we were able completely to 
realise Value itself, that Value would besimply Value, and could 
not be called by one of the names ‘ beautiful’ or ‘ good’ or 
‘true,’ though it would contain all three in dissoluble unity) 
beauty and truth are yet approaches to one Value, converging, ~ 
though still distinguishable, as we approach it, and inseparable 
in any fullest experience of any value. It is one of the tests that 
we really have approached Value itself if beauty and truth seem 
to be inseparable aspects of the one experience, however separate 
they may seem in their less exalted moments. That is just 


CONDUCT AND THE EXPERIENCE OF VALUE = 87 


another of life’s irreducible paradoxes, and that is why Keats 
was right when he said ‘ Beauty is Truth, Truth Beauty,’ and 
why Professor Sorley (and others) are equally right when they 
deny that identity. Reality is a unity and yet it is a many: so 
if values meet in Value, and seem to meet sometimes in finite 
experience, they are values, a plurality, none the less, certainly 
for the finite mind, and perhaps for the infinite. 

The truth of the universe, then, must be felt as a value, just 
as on the other hand the value of beauty which is felt, must also 
be thought, if it is to have full human meaning for us. | Feeling 
must save reflection from mere coldness: reflection must save 
feeling from being merely blind. The reason why this must be 
so is because, on the objective side, it is essential to get through 
from particular values to Value, whilst on the subjective side the 
experience of that Value must be a whole, and not one-sided : 
it must penetrate all sides of our nature. 

it may be noticed that for the present I seem to ignore good- 
ness aS a value. The reason is that we are about to see that the 
main source of human goodness that is a living goodness is 
derived from the value experienced in these two ways, and that 
the self is the agency by which they are transformed and trans- 
muted into specifically moral value. 

I maintained, until a few pages ago, that value was to be 
discerned equally in moral conduct as in any other source. I 
pointed out there, however, that although it is perhaps easier 
to be good through example, than to be good ‘ originally,’ yet 
the very simplicity of it would prove a danger, in tending towards 
a mere imitationism, not based at all upon a felt-knowledge of 
the value of which it was the expression. It is easier, too, Just 
because there is no transition in principle from one value to 
another. Indeed to say that we can be good by the inspiration 
of goodness in others, really begs the question which is, just, 
‘what is this goodness ?’ That is to say, goodness in character 
and conduct, and the value that is seen there, depends upon 


something other than itself. What is that other ? 


The answer, which has been already hinted at, is that goodness 
in conduct, living goodness, depends upon and is the expression 
of a character illuminated, guided, and inspired by the Value 
experience. To discover reality in all the ways in which it is 
given to man to discover reality, and not merely by intellectual 
activity, to find Value in reality, and to feel that Value until, 


88 CONDUCT AND THE EXPERIENCE OF VALUE 


being in harmony with it, knowing and feeling it in this way, we 
seem to experience it vitally in our own lives. To do this is to 
fulfil man’s function in the cosmos, is to discover the springs 
from which all moral goodness must flow. To do this is not 
goodness, but it is the good, and this good means a transformation 
through the self of values into terms of the moral life. 

To have the Value experience is not goodness, although the 
efforts which attain it are the fulfilment of man’s function, but 
it is the good in the sense of the end towards which man must 
strive. It is not goodness, just because goodness must be a 
function of character, or, if predicated of acts, of acts regarded 
as an expression of character. Although, then, the experience 
of value is the inspiration of the moral life, and in that sense may 
be its end, yet it must be worked into the web and fibre of 
character itself, if character is to have, as a whole, moral value, 
if the acts proceeding from it are to be good, and the will self- 
determining. 

Of the way in which the value experience affects character, 
of its effect in sustaining a real freedom of will, I cannot here 
treat. It is necessary, however, to remark that it is mainly 
through feeling that the value experience is able to make itself 
felt in character and conduct. No ‘mere’ knowledge (if that 
in abstracto were possible) would be sufficient to determine 
conduct, and although it is strictly speaking true that, just as 
all knowledge involves striving, so does it give rise through feeling 
to some conation, yet this feeling must be particularly intense 
and strong if the conation is to be strong in a realm where it is 
likely to encounter resistance. Even in the intellectual life itself, 
interest of some sort, bound up with feeling, must be strong, in 
order to overcome the natural inertia of the mind. And this is 
far more strikingly true in the sphere of the moral life, where an 
ideal impulse must indeed be reinforced strongly by feeling, if it 
is to make any headway against, or to form any guidance for, 
the mass of the ‘ coarser,’ more elemental instinctive impulses 
and emotions. The question of the nature and origin of ‘ psychic | 
energy ’ is obscure, and the conception of ‘ psychic energy ’ itself 
an hypothesis, but, accepting it as an hypothesis, I may say here 
tentatively,! that although human nature is grounded in, and is a 
development from, instinct ; that although the desire of man to 


1 The following thesis is worked out more fully in an article (Britesh 
Journal of Psychology, July, 1923), Instinct, Hmotion, and the Higher Lafe. 


CONDUCT AND THE EXPERIENCE OF VALUE 89 


discover reality through all channels, may be energised by the 
instinct of curiosity and the emotion of wonder, as well as by 
others ; yet in the successful discovery by man of reality, there 
emerges a new force, which, turned back upon character, rein- 
forces it with new energy, an energy quite as real as that derived 
from instinct and primary emotion. In the Value experience we 
feel as if the universal Value were expressing itself through us, 
as if through the open flood-gate of the cosmos were flowing into 
us cosmic energy. Whether this is so literally or not (if Value 
is objective, and man is the child of the universe, there is at least 
no @ priorz reason why it should not be so), there is undoubtedly 
a real re-inforcement, a real energising by the new intense 
emotion, which would not have existed, which would not 
have been created, without the value experience. It is the 
development of this new psychic force, born, as an emotion, of 
the union between a finite seeker and an infinite universe that has 
value, which must be, I maintain, the real energising force of the 
moral life as such, something which, new each time the value 
experience rewards our efforts to understand, is the source of 


man’s real freedom, freedom, that is, from total determination 


by the past forces of heredity, instinct, environment. It is the 
source of goodness which is new and vital: it is the source of 
conduct which, energised by this new emotion reacting upon 
present forces in character, is the expression of a truly individual 
character, a character which has for itself achieved the supreme 
thing, has discovered and felt the Value that is in the world. 
It is the source of conduct with, as the popular phrase goes, the 
stamp of personality upon it. If we realise this, a new meaning 
is given to the old ethical saw, ‘ be a person.’ 


LOUIS ARNAUD REID. 


SIR HENRY JONES AND THE CROSS 
COMMISSION 


‘THE Royal Commission over which Viscount Cross presided is a 
landmark of some importance in the history of elementary 
education in England and Wales. Following upon the publica- 
tion of the Commission’s Reports in 1887-8, came a period of 
substantial advance in the direction of a more liberal curriculum 
in the schools. The Final Report! also contains recommendations 
of interest to the student of the history of education in Wales. 
The peculiar difficulties and opportunities presented by linguistic 
conditions in Wales are recognised. Not only is Welsh included 
henceforth as a specific subject, but the teaching of English in 
Wales is also regarded as a special problem, demanding special 
study and treatment. 

The evidence presented to the Cross Commission by Sir Henry 
Jones is of considerable value for the study of Welsh educational 
development in the nineteenth century. References to Henry 
Jones’ own education, as represented by the day school, the 
Sunday school, and the general environment of his boyhood 
days, may be found in his recently published autobiography ? ; 
and these references throw much light on the standpoint taken 
by him in his evidence. | 

In the Old Memories we have a valuable contribution to Welsh 
social and educational history. The picture of the cultural 
influences at work during Henry Jones’ boyhood conforms to 
that already given in Welsh in such works as Sir Owen Edwards’ 
Clych Adgof. Like Owen Edwards, Henry Jones acknowledges his 
debt to the Sunday school and the Eisteddfod. To him, the lowly 
Sunday school teacher who taught him in rural Llangernyw seems 

1 Final Report of the Royal Commission appointed to inquire into the 
working of the Elementary Education Acts, England and Wales, 1888. 
Pp. 250-1. 

2 Old Memories: autobiography by Sir Henry Jones, C.H., late Pro- 
fessor of Moral Philosophy in the University of Glasgow. Edited by 
Thomas Jones, M.A., LL.D. Hodder and Stoughton, Limited, London, 


1922. 
91 


92 THE CROSS COMMISSION 


worthy of a place as a ‘ great teacher’ along with Sir Richard 
Jebb and Professor John Nichol (Old Memories, p. 132). It was, 
in his view, his ‘ rare good fortune’ to have sat at the feet of 
these three men. 

His tribute to the Welsh Sunday school must be quoted in 
full : 


‘The Sunday School in Wales is an institution for adults as well 
as for children ; and the sanest of all educational institutions in that 
respect, for it rests on the assumption that the care of the soul, like 
the care of the body, should be life-long ’ (p. 13). 


The Eisteddfod also played its part in the environment of 
Henry Jones’ early days, as the following passage shows : 


‘Every now and then there were competitive meetings or little 
Histeddfods, whose influence by-the-by is admirable. So that, some- 
how or other, there was always something “ intellectual’’ going on 
amongst us. We had our aspirations in fact, and they did not quite 
““come to nothing ”’’ (p. 55). 


In sharp contrast to these tributes’is the tone of his allusions. 
to the day-school. 


‘I am sorry to say that I cannot speak well of the village school, 
or at least, of the village schoolmaster. He was very cruel and very 
ignorant. ... The answer to the sum is wrong, the boot is not 
exactly at the chalk-line, a child has turned his head round . . . a lad 
has spoken in Welsh—any of these might be a reason for a whack- 
ing. ... I must not forget the master’s attitude towards the Welsh 
language, the only habitual language of the village and country. The 
speaking of it was strictly forbidden, both in the school,and in the 
playground’ (pp. 30-32). 


The sentences that follow need hardly be quoted, for they 
deal with a feature of Welsh school life that is only too well- 
known— the * Welsh note,’ whereby the pupils were forced to play 
the spy on one another in the effort to suppress the use of the 
home-language. | 

Summing up, the picture drawn here, as in Sir Owen Edwards’ 
Clych Adgof, is one of two opposed forces at work in Welsh 
education. On the one hand, there is the Welsh peasant culture 
expressing itself through various agencies— the Sunday school, 
the pulpit, the Eisteddfod, the ‘ cyfarfod lenyddol,’ the Cymanfa, 
the Press, and the village smithy-senate. This culture is vigorous 
and effective, being inspiring and—to borrow the word used by 


THE CROSS COMMISSION 93 


the 1846-7 Commissioners—‘ congenial.’ As it is national and 
characteristic, it expresses itself through the medium of the 
Welsh language. : 

On the other hand, the day school was in direct antagonism 
(in effect, although not necessarily in intention) to Welsh life and 
development. Be it noted, however, that the main reason for 
banishing the Welsh language from the school was the attitude 
of the Welsh parent. With the legitimate desire of the parent 
that his child should learn English in the school, no reasonable 
person would quarrel. The error lay in the supposition that it 
was necessary to sacrifice the home-tongue before the learning of 
the other could be achieved. The Welsh parent failed to appre- 
ciate, as Matthew Arnold appreciated, the fact that 


“to preserve and honour the Welsh language and literature is quite 
compatible with not thwarting or delaying for a single hour the in- 
troduction, so undeniably useful, of a knowledge of English among all 
classes in Wales.’ } 


In fact, the result of the policy above described on the teaching 


of English was unfortunate, and the mechanical verbalism which 


it promoted was one of the many regrettable features of the 
situation. 

It should be borne in mind that the ‘ Welsh note’ was not 
an instrument of external oppression. On the contrary, the home- 
language was excluded from the school because the Welsh parents 
demanded its exclusion, as a general rule. But the educational 
effect was no less tragic on this account. Whereas school, home 
and church should have co-operated in the child’s development, 
they were working at cross-purposes. Professor MacCunn in his 
book, The Making of Character, deplores the fact that too often 


‘the great moralising social influences... work in. . . partial 
independence of each other, and not under the unifying influence of 
one all-dominating moral plan and purpose’ (p. 136). 


In Wales during the nineteenth century (and still to some extent) 
these forces are found not merely working in ‘ partial indepen- 
dence,’ but in direct conflict. During the last century, the day 
school in Wales as a rule ignored everything that was typical of 
the life of the nation—and the tradition still survives in backward 
schools. One may reasonably doubt whether anyone who has 


, 1 Matthew Arnold, The Study of Celtic Literature (Everyman’s Library), 
p. 4. 


94 THE CROSS COMMISSION 


not suffered from such a system can fully appreciate the havoc 
wrought. Sir Owen Edwards, gentlest and most scholarly of 
men, describes it as an ‘accursed old system.’ ! | 


The foregoing exploration of the background will, it is hoped, 
help to explain the attitude adopted by Sir Henry Jones and his 
fellow-witnesses from Wales in their evidence before the Cross 
Commission. The witnesses included Mr. Dan Isaac Davies, Dr. 
(later Sir) Isambard Owen, Mr. Beriah Gwynfe Evans, Mr. (later 
Sir) Marchant Williams, Mr. Lewis Williams, and the Venerable 
Archdeacon John Griffiths. It is of interest to add that Mr. 
Henry Richard, M.P., was a member of the Commission. 

The evidence offered by Sir Henry Jones was summarised by 
the witness himself under two. heads, in his reply to the Rev. 
Dr. J. H. Rigg.? In the first place, he urged the desirability of 
adding Welsh to the curriculum in the schools: and secondly, 
he advocated the adoption, in England and Wales, of the Scotch 
system with regard to the use of the universities. 

To justify his demand for the recognition of the vernacular in 
the schools, he gave the Commissioners some account of linguistic 
conditions in Wales.? In the course of his evidence, he emphasises 
the prevalence of Welsh as the habitually spoken language of a 
large number of homes. He agrees with Mr. Henry Richard, 
M.P., that the Welsh people exhibit a 


‘very strong attachment . . . to their own language, but that with 
that there is very generally an earnest desire to acquire the English 
language.’ 4 : 


Sir Henry Jones was quite convinced that the fate of the 
Welsh language would not depend upon the schools—‘ the real 
forces that keep Welsh alive are social and religious.’> He 
described to the Commissioners some of these powerful forces 
operating outside the schools. In his view, the use of the lan- 
guage in worship and in the Sunday schools has contributed 
largely, perhaps predominantly, to the preservation of the Welsh 
language. Next in order of influence in this direction, he 
places the Eisteddfod.? In his evidence, as in the Old Memories, 


1 Owen Edwards, Clych Adgof, p. 18 (1906). 

2 Cross Commission Report Vol. III, 1887, p. 328. 

3 Report of the Royal Commission on the Elementary Education Acts, 
England and Wales, Vol. III, 1887, p. 320 et seq. + Toid., p. 326. 

Mth 0s 3743 6 Tbid., p:- 32. ? Tbid., p. 327: ; 


THE CROSS COMMISSION 95 


he makes it his business to pay tribute to the small local Histedd- 
fodau, in particular. Henry Richard recalls the well-known 
words of Dr- Connop Thirlwall, former Bishop of St. Davids : 


‘It is a most remarkable feature in the history of any people, and 
such as could be said of no other than the Welsh, that they have 
centred their national recreation in literature and musical competi- 
tions.’ ' 


The quotation was obviously new to Henry Jones, who 
replies : 3 


“IT was not aware of those words, but it has often struck me as 
odd that the Welsh seem to have inherited the literary side of the 
Olympic games, if one may say so.’ 

He refers to the many futile predictions that have been made 
with regard to the end of the Welsh language. His own view 
seems to have been that there was a very slow transition ‘ from 
an exclusive knowledge of Welsh to an exclusive knowledge of 
English.’ ?. He does not appear to have envisaged the possibility 


of a community becoming and remaining permanently bilingual 


until the Chairman (Viscount Cross) reminded him of cases like 
Belgium. The witness then refers to the case of England after 
the Norman Conquest as that of a people who failed to be 


permanently bilingual. He further admits the difficulty of 


explaining how Wales, with its proximity and closer contact with 
England, and its smaller area, has retained its language whereas 
Ireland in apparently less difficult circumstances has so largely 
lost the Irish tongue. The religious revival of the eighteenth 
century seems to him to be the only possible explanation. 

On one point, however— although he speaks with much caution 
on many points in his evidence, as will be shown later—Henry 
Jones is quite emphatic ; and it may fairly be held that subsequent 
events from 1887 to 1923 have justified his attitude. He main- 
tains definitely that 


‘the practical question just now can only be solved on the supposition 
that both [languages] are permanent.’ * 


English had gained ground, but Welsh had scarcely lost ground 
at all. 


1 Cross Report, Vol. III, 1887, p. 327. 
libvd:. p. 827. 2 7bidi,. p.. 32): 
4 Cross Commission Report, Vol. II, 1887, p. 322. 


96 THE CROSS COMMISSION 


Before proceeding to deal in detail with Henry Jones’ evidence, 
it may be explained that the Commission had been expressly 
directed to consider certain aspects of Welsh education. In the 
‘Syllabus of Points for Inquiry ’! there are several allusions to 
Welsh problems and conditions. Thus in connexion with the 
working of the law, the Commission is required to examine the 
provision made for the inspection of Welsh schools.2 With regard 
to the inquiry into the efficiency of the present machinery, central 
and local, in the matter of secular instruction, the following Welsh 
questions are specifically mentioned *: ‘ How far is the bilingual 
difficulty met in Wales ?’ and ‘ The Welsh language.’ In section 
6, under the heading ‘ Special schools and their difficulties,’ the 
following are mentioned :—(a) Rural, (f) Half-time, (y) Welsh 
and (6) Work-house schools. 


There appears to have been a difference of standpoint between 
Henry Jones and the witnesses who gave evidence on behalf of 
the ‘ Society for the utilisation of the Welsh language in Educa- 
tion.’ They advocated the use of the Welsh language to aid the 
teaching of English. To him, the guiding principle seems to have 
been the need of the great proportion of Welsh people who would 
spend their lives in Wales.* He is not in favour of a policy of 
compulsory Welsh.® In this respect, he finds himself on common 
ground with the Welsh Language Society witnesses. Moreover, 
they agree in stressing the importance of the teaching of English 
in the schools of Wales. As he puts it: 

‘the majority, [of the parents] especially the more intelligent, would 
feel the importance of teaching Welsh as well’ (p. 327). | 

Briefly, the demand was that Welsh should be introduced into 
the schools in addition to, not as a substitute for, the English 
language. 

In his desire to maintain the teaching of English, he would 
regard it as 
‘the foundation of education, and as practically the only medium 
of communication between teachers and taught.’ ® 

English is to remain the medium of instruction. He expresses 


1 Cross Commission Report, Vol. I, Appendix A, p. 507. 
2 Section 3, sub-section C (iv). 

3 Section 4, A, II (a) iii, y and 6. 

4 Cross Commission Report, Vol. II, p. 325. 

a Tbid..0 pr o2t. 6 Ibid., p. 321. 


—— — i ee nes en 


———————— 


—— 


THE CROSS COMMISSION 97 


a fear lest the teaching of English grammar might be dropped in 
Welsh schools. 

The introduction of Welsh as a specific subject, on the other 
hand, does not appear adequate to him.! His view is that it 
should be taught as a class subject, because the teaching would 
go further down into the body of the school. One detailed 
suggestion of his has to do with the teaching of Welsh composi- 
tion.? This he regards as important from the point of view of 
spelling and letter-writing. He cites the case of a Welsh servant 
girl, who has been to an English day school, and who spells 


_ English better than she spells Welsh, although on the other hand 


she would appreciate Welsh literature much more than English 
literature. The reason for this anomaly is, of course, that she 
had been taught to read Welsh (but not to write it) in the Sunday 
school : whereas in the day school she had learnt to spell English 
words, without learning to appreciate English literature. 

With regard to the pupil teachers, Henry Jones would give 
them extra credit for their knowledge of an additional language, 
making the demands in Welsh correspond through and through 


with the demands made in English.? 


‘Dr. R. W. Dale, in cross-examination, presses the witness to 
describe his own experience of Welsh elementary schools. This 
brings out some features of the story of Henry Jones’ association 
with the elementary school—as pupil at Llangernyw, Denbighshire, 
and as master at Bryn Aman, Carmarthenshire. He testifies that 
at both these schools the pupils usually thought and spoke in 
Welsh— as he himself did during his school life ‘ and long after.’ 
The schoolmaster at Llangernyw was not a Welshman, and 
although he was a long time in Wales he never learnt his pupils’ 
language. This gives us one side of the picture. The other 
appears in his statement that more than half of the professors 
in Bangor College, at the time when he gave his evidence, were 
learning Welsh. Answering Mr. Henry Richard, M.P., he bears 
testimony from his own experience that young children who come 
from homes where Welsh alone is spoken are placed at a very 
serious disadvantage because the day school, at that time, carried 
on its work solely in English. The effect on the child’s education 
is also described. One result is that the teaching of English 
itself was unintelligent. He himself has seen people who were 
1 Cross Commission Report, Vol. III, p. 325. 7 Ibid.,p.321 3 Lbid., p. 322. 
29bid., Pp: 323, 5 Toid., p. 328. 6 tbe: p. 327. 

A.S.—VOL. V. : H 


98 THE CROSS COMMISSION 


‘able to read and pronounce English pretty correctly, and still not 
understand a single word, not even such a word as “and.” ’ 1! 


By way of contrast—and, incidentally, to show the vigour 
of the peasant culture that flourished independently and in spite 
of the day school—we turn to a passage which foreshadows the 
modern development of adult classes. To prove the adaptability 
and intelligibility of literary Welsh for the purpose of popular 
lectures on abstract subjects, Henry Jones draws once more on 
his own personal experience. ? 


‘IT have each year, in connexion with the Bangor College, con- 
ducted courses of lectures on philosophy in Welsh to Welshmen ; 
some of the courses were on Greek philosophy, and some on modern 
ethics ; and more admirable classes I have never had. 

‘Of whom did they consist ?—They consisted chiefly of Welsh 
working men.’ 


Another manifestation of the traditional culture that appears 
in the course of Henry Jones’ evidence is the Gwyddoniadur—a 
Welsh Encyclopedia, published by Gee of Denbigh. This appeared 
in ten large volumes, with nearly 10,000 articles. It cost more 
than £20,000, and its reception by the Welsh public made the 
venture a financial success.2 Dr. Dale invited the witness to 
compare the Gwyddoniadur with a Popular Encyclopedia like 
Chambers’. The characteristic reply was, “I am not able to 
compare Encyclopeedias.’ 

The caution here shown was repeatedly revealed in his 
answers, and is not the least valuable feature of his evidence. 
Another good example is his reply to Mr. Thomas E. Heller (page 
328), “No, I do not trust the complaints of teachers without 
examination.’ 

Henry Jones’ convictions on the bilingual problem may per- 
haps be summed up, in the best possible way, by the following 
quotation from his evidence in reply to Viscount Cross *: 


‘The good of Wales is dependent to a considerable extent upon 
meeting it, because no community I think was ever improved, except 
by developing the forces, intellectual and otherwise, that it possesses ; 
and Wales will never be made richer by neglecting its language ; nor 
do I think that English will be known better.’ 


JOHN HUGHES. 


1 Cross Commission Report, Vol. III, p. 328. 4 Toi; p. date 
3 V. The Welsh People, Rhys and Jones, London, 1906, p. 609. 
4 Cross Commission Report, Vol. III, p. 322. 


— I —™_::..OC~— 
an > 
ST 
a 


NOTES ON THE HISTORY OF CARDIGANSHIRE 
LEAD MINES 


THE antiquity of some of the lead-workings in this district is of 
other than purely archeological interest, as only such antiquity 
can account for the very thorough pollution and consequent 
barrenness of local rivers, while some knowledge of the recent 
history of the mines is necessary for the understanding of present 
conditions. An attempt has therefore been made, in connec- 
tion with biological investigations, to trace in outline the history 
of the rise and decline of the mining industry in Cardigan- 
shire, with reference to printed works and also to unpublished 
manuscripts preserved in the National Library of Wales at 
Aberystwyth. 

The most interesting manuscripts bearing on this topic are 
those of Lewis Morris, who, by his own account, resided ‘ at 
Aberystwyth and Cymsymlog’ during the first half of the 
eighteenth century. His Account of the Cardiganshire Lead and 
Silver Mines, dated 1744 (6),1 contains several references to 
the general belief that the mineral wealth of the district was to 
a certain extent exploited in prehistoric times, probably by men 
of a Neolithic culture.? A passage dealing with the Cwm y 
Darren (Cwm Daren) mine is especially interesting, as here the 
writer adduces what he considers to be direct evidence of the 
truth of this belief, as follows: 


‘This Mine seems to have been wrought in the beginning of Times, 
and. before the use of Iron was found out, and when Mankind knew 
the Use of no Toole but Stones. I have seen this work opened and 
the Stone wedges and Charcoal taken up with which they split the 


1 For the opportunity of consulting these MSS. I am indebted to the 
kindness of the chief librarian, Mr. J. Ballinger. 

2 Professor H. J. Fleure writes : There seems a reasonable probability 
that lead-working is of old standing in this district, but the finds made 
thus far are not now held to establish a Neolithic date for this ; all that 
can be said with safety is that the working of lead began here in prehis- 
toric time. 

SIS) 


100 HISTORY OF CARDIGANSHIRE LEAD MINES 


rocks. Their method seems to be this. They made a Great Fire 
of wood in the bottom of their Rakes which were always open upon 
that Account, and When the Rock was sufficiently Hot, they cast 
Water upon it, which shivered it ; and then with Stone wedges which 
they drove in with other Stones, they worked their way through the 
hardest Rocks, tho’ but slowly. The wedges were Sea Stones, with 
one End nipd off to an Edge, and there is an Impression on the other 
end where they used to strike on them.’ 


The same writer considers that at Cwm Symlog (not many 
miles from Cwm Daren, in the Clarach Valley) 


‘the Antient Britons (and perhaps after them the Romans) first 
discovered Ore at the Day, about the Middle of the present Works, 
and (as appears at this time) brought it in an Open Rake according 
to the Antient Manner. But being in a Low Situation the Water 
Overcame them before they could get above 8 or 10 yards deep, 
though in some other High Grounds they have gone 50 yards.’ 


As Lewis Morris was present at the opening of the levels of 
which he writes, his evidence may at least be accepted in proof 
of the existence of previous workings of great antiquity, although 
the earliest authentic reference to Welsh mines is that of Sir 
John Pettus, who, writing in 1670, gives an account of the 
establishment by King Henry VII in the year of his accession 
(1485) of commissioners and governors of all his mines of gold, 
silver, tin, lead and copper in England and Wales (2). 

Probably but little attention was paid to the Welsh mines 
until the time of Queen Elizabeth, who early in her reign imported 
a band of trained miners from Germany. A great impetus was 
thus given to British mining activities in general, and in 1568 
the ‘Society for the Mines Royal’ was incorporated under 
Royal auspices: by their enterprises the following mines were 
opened—Cwm Symlog, the Darren, Cwm-erfin, Goginan, Tal y 
Bont, Cwm-ystwyth, Thruscott, Rhos-fawr, and Tre’rddol, all 
in ‘the Parish of Llanny Hangell Genne Glynne ’ (Llanfihangel- 
geneurglyn). | 

In these days a fair amount of silver, as well as lead, seems 
to have been obtained from these mines, whose value is demon- 
strated by the rent of £400 per annum paid for mining rights 
to the Society of the Mines Royal by Sir Hugh Middleton. The 
latter seems to have made a fortune by his management of the 
mines during the latter half of the sixteenth century, for Sir John 
Pettus reports that ‘he cleared Menethly the summe of 2000L.’ 


HISTORY OF CARDIGANSHIRE LEAD MINES 101 


Sir Owen Wynne of Gwydir, writing in 1665 (3), gives 
directions in his Remembrancers of the Lead Mines to 


“enquire if there be amongst the miners at the lead works any out- 
landish man (as a Dutchman or High Dutchman) that hath skill in 
mines’ ; 

also 


‘to bring a lump of the rich ore out of every work, each by itself, and 
state in writing how much silver each of them contains per ton—Tale 
y Bont (Tal y Bont), Kegyne (Goginan), and Kwm Sumloche (Cwm 
Symlog) ’ (3). 


These pioneer mines continued to yield ore under changing 
systems of management, and in 1690 the discovery of easily 
workable ore on the estate of Sir Carberry Pryse (at Gogerddan) 
gave a iurther stimulus to mining enterprise in Cardiganshire. 
Ten new mines were opened at once, and glowing accounts of 
the possibilities of the scheme known contemporaneously as ‘ the 
Mine Adventure ’ were written for publication by Wiliam Waller, 
Sir Carberry’s steward, who went so far as to predict the founda- 
tion of ‘a Welsh Potosi’ (4), (5). 

Although the silver became exhausted, the lead-workings were 
still maintained with enthusiasm. Lewis Morris, in a very full 
Account of the Mines above mentioned (6), enumerates the work- 
ings in Pervedd (which included the Plinlimmon slopes and a por- 
tion of North-East Cardiganshire) as ‘in all threescore and one,’ 
besides thirty-six ‘ Discoveries and Prospects of Lead and Silver 
Ore on the Common of Pervedd (but never tryed).’ 

By this time, serious consequences of the pollution of 
the rivers were making themselves felt: the last-mentioned 
writer, in his Commonpiace Book (1), records the death, in 1747, of 


‘an excellent little working Horse, which began to be ill in the Spring. 

He had often ye Colicke. .. . He grew worse and I gave him 
gunpowder, soote, etc., but to no effect, then I concluded he had been 
poysoned by the water of the mines, which kills abundance of Horses 
. . . but makes a quicker dispatch with mares than Horses. It doth 
not hurt Black Cattle nor Sheep (they say), nor any beast that hath 
Tallow.’ (This is not confirmed by modern experience!) ‘ But 
destroys all Foul. See Hen.’ 


Under the heading ‘ Hen,’ he recounts the case of ‘ a Breeding 
old Hen,’ which for a twelvemonth had been ‘ zll of the Bellon, 
by swallowing Lead ore, very few fowl escape it in ye mine- 


102 HISTORY OF CARDIGANSHIRE LEAD MINES 


country. ‘The symptoms detailed seem somewhat peculiar, but 
the writer makes it clear that lead-poisoning was a common 
occurrence among domestic animals, and further remarks that 
“no wild-fowl will frequent those Mineral Mountains and Rivers, 
as if they foresaw the danger.’ 

No references to destruction of river-fisheries have been found, 
though it may be significant that Lewis Morris, evidently a man 
of very varied interests and a keen student of natural history (as 
witnessed by many annotated sketches), makes no allusion to 
fishing in the local streams. 

No information has been obtained of local mining activities 
during the fifty years subsequent to 1747, but Sir Samuel Rush- 
Meyrick, writing in 1810 (7), mentions only thirty-seven active 
mines in Cardiganshire, indicating the closure of some. 

The following thirty-five years must have been a period of 
development followed by decline of activity, as Robert Hunt, in 
a Memoir published by the Geological Society (8), gives a list 
of 120 lead-mines in Cardiganshire, 64 of which he states to be 
inactive. 

The influence of foreign competition during the nineteenth 
century was responsible for the abandonment of many of the 
lead-workings, which may be traced in the records of the Home 
Office: a publication of the latter dated December 31st, 1919 
(9), records the abandonment of thirty-seven Cardiganshire 
lead-mines since the year 1872. The East Darren (Cwmsymlog) 
Mine, the last of those affecting the Clarach Valley, was closed 
in 1901. 

By 1914, Cardiganshire mining was practically a dead industry, 
but the European War gave it a new stimulus, though a feeble 
one, and a list of mines in the United Kingdom, published in 
1921, mentions thirteen in Cardiganshire. Of. these only seven 
are lead-mines affecting the rivers Rheidol and Ystwyth, and 
among these seven, one is recorded as ‘suspended’ and four 
as ‘about to open.’ By 1922 the last two lead-workings affecting 
the Rheidol (Melindwr, near Goginan, and Rhiwfron, near Devil’s 
Bridge) had closed down, while of those affecting the Ystwyth 
there remained only a station at Grogwynion, near Pont-Rhyd-y- 
groes, where zinc-blende (not lead-ore) from the old dumps of 
Fron-goch was brought down to be crushed. The barren condition 
of these two rivers is thus no recent development, but rather a 
heritage of the past. 


HISTORY OF CARDIGANSHIRE LEAD MINES 103 


Since the cessation of mining activities, a rapid improvement 
in the condition of our rivers has been observed, and is marked by 
the incursion of green water-weeds (Algee and flowering plants) 
and of Invertebrate animals, which commonly serve as ‘ fish food,’ 
although as yet the rivers contain no fish, beyond occasional 
stray trout from the tributaries or sewin from the salt waters. It 
seems reasonably probable that, if the mines continue to be in- 
active, our streams may in time be iully re-populated. 


K. CARPENTER. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 
1. Lewis Morris MS. Collection, No. 4: Commonplace Book (National 
Library of Wales). 
2. Sir John Petrie: Fodine Regalis; London, 1670. 


3. The Wynne Papers: MS. Collection in the National Library of Wales 
(of which a catalogue will shortly be published). 


4, William Waller: Essay on the Value of the Mines, late of Sir Carberry 
Price; London, 1698. 


5. William Waller: A Familiar Discourse or Dialogue concerning the Mine- 
Adventure ; London, 1700. 


6. Lewis Morris MS. Collection: An Account of the Lead and Silver Mines 
in the King’s Mannor called Cwummwd y Perveth in the County of 
Cardigan, S. Wales (National Library of Wales). 


7. Sir Samuel Rush-Meyrick: History and Antiquities of the County of 
Cardigan; 1810. 


8. Robert Hunt: Notices of the History of the Lead Mines; Mem. Geol. 
Soc., 1848. 


9. List of plans of abandoned mines deposited in the Home Office, cor- 
rected to December 31, 1919. 


PS 


BRITISH 


MUSEUM 


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PAS REG Dp 


LED enh 


NATURAL 


ATUPRAL 


HISTORY. 
CONTENTS OF PREVIOUS VOLUMES — 


VotumE I. 452 

The Anglo-Saxon Riddles, by G. A. Wood, M.A. An Analysis of ‘oe A 
female characters of Grillparzer’s Dramas contrasted with those of % 
Goethe’s and Schiller’s, by Miss Amy Burgess, M.A. Norman Earth- Hey 
works near Aberystwyth, by F. S. Wright. A List of Research 
Publications by Members of the College Staff for the Session 1910-11. 


Vouume II, 
The Anglo-Saxon Riddles (continued), by G. A. Wood, M. A. Some 
Ancient Defensive Earthworks near Aberystwyth, by F. 8. Wright. | 
Whitman v. Verhaeren, by P. M. Jones, B.A. 


Votume ITI. | is 

The Greek Agones, by Professor H. J. Rose. A few Notes on the Familiar 

Letters of James Howell, by Professor E. Bensly. Fable Literature 

in Welsh, by Professor T. Gwynn Jones. ‘Trajano Boccalini’s 
Influence upon English Literature, by Richard Thomas, M.A, 


Vouume IV. 

Pagan Revivalism under the Roman Empire, by Sir William M. Ramsay, 
F.B.A. The Bronze Age in Wales, by Harold Peake, F.S.A. Diony- 
siaca, by Professor H. J. Rose. The Clausule of Aischines, by 
R. A. Pope, M.A. Further Notes on the Familiar Letters of James 
Howell, by Professor Edward Bensly. Further Notes on “the — 
Owl] and the Nightingale,’ by Professor J. W. H. Atkins. The — 
Arthurian Empire in the Elizabethan Poets, by Miss L. Winstanley, — 


M.A. A Note on a passage in “ Beowulf,” by G. N. Garmonsway, 
B.A. Welsh Words from Pembrokeshire, by Professor T. Stanley 


Roberts. An English Flexionai ending in Welsh, by Professor — 
T. H. Parry-Williams. A ‘‘Court of Love” poem in Welsh, 
by Professor T. Gwynn Jones. The Evolution of the Welsh 
Home, by Timothy Lewis, M.A. A Washer at the Ford, by Miss 
Gwenan Jones, M.A. An Outline History of our Neighbourhood, by 
Professor H. J. Fleure. Some Notes on the Industrial Revo- 
lution in South Wales, by J. Morgan Rees, M.A. Industrial | 
Training in South Wales, by W. King, M.A. Conduct and the 
Experience of Value, by L. A. Reid, M.A. Some sources of the 
English Trial, by Professor T. A. Levi. A Renascence Pioneer of 
Women’s Education, by Professor Foster Watson. Instruction in 
Religion, by Professor C. R, Chapple. A new document bearing 
on the Welsh Education Commission of 1846-7, by F. Smith 
M.A. On Stokes’s Formula and the Maxwell-Lorentz Equations, b: 
Professor W. H. Young. Recent Investigations of the scattering of 
X- and y-Rays, by Professor G. A. Schott. The Addition of Hydro- 
gen to Acetylenic Acids, by the late D. Emrys Williams, B.Sc., and 
Professor T. C. James. The Action of Reducing Agents on som 
Polynitrodiphenylamines, by N. M. Cullinane, M.Sc. Some Reactions 
of Tetranitroaniline, by C. W. Davies, B.Sc. The Origin of the 
Seed-Plants (Spermophyta), by D. H. Scott, LL.D. Investi 
gations into the Fauna of the Sea Floor of Cardigan Bay, by Pr 
fessor R. Douglas Laurie. The Fauna of the Clarach 
(Cardiganshire) and its Tributaries, by Miss K. Carpenter, B. 
Additions to the Marine Fauna of Aberystwyth and District, bj 
E. Horsman, M.Sc. The Bryophyta of Arpt: Bones ASB 
in Wales, by C. V. B. Marquand, M.A. . re 

Nore.—Vols. I-III, price 3/— each, Vol. IV, price 6/-, yer, Vol. Vit p 
may be obtained from the General Secretary, University College of 
Aberystwyth, or from -eiaesatitet sidan, nee ee ae 
ata ith London. — na 


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