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SKETCHES AND .STUDIES 
 
 DESCRIPTIVE AND HISTORICAL. 
 
SKETCHES AND STUDIES: 
 
 DESCRIPTIVE AND HISTORICAL 
 
 By BICHAED JOHNJ^NG, B.A., 
 
 BXBTBR COLLEGE, OXFORD. 
 
 AtTTHOB OP *A HANDBOOK FOB THE tJATHEDBALS OF ENGLAND AHD WALES/ 
 , KTC., ETC. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 JOHN MUERAY, ALBEMARLE STREET. 
 
 1874. 
 
"Watson and Hazell, Printers, London and AylesTDUiy. 
 
PEEFACE. 
 
 rj^HE contents of this volume are reprinted from ^ Oxford 
 Essays,' the ' Quarteriy Review,' and ' Eraser's Mag- 
 azine '; to which they were contributed during a series of 
 many years. They are here collected by the kind permission 
 of the proprietors of those Journals, to whom I desire to 
 offer my sincere thanks. 
 
 E. J. K. 
 Michaelmas, 1874. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAOB 
 
 CAROLINGIAN ROMAifCE 1 
 
 SACRED TREES AND FLOWERS 34 
 
 THE DOGS OF FOLK-LORE, HISTORY, AND ROMANCE . 94 
 
 THE CHANGE OF FAITH IN ICELAND, A.D. 1000 . . 147 
 THE GREAT SHRINES OF ENGLAND . . . .197 
 
 TRAVELLING IN ENGLAND . , 266 
 
 DEVONSHIRE . . f 307 
 
 ROBERT HERRICK AND HIS VICARAGE .... 363 
 SKETCHES AND STUDIES FROM BELGIUM: 
 
 I. MECHLIN 378 
 
 II. LOUVAIN 404 
 
 III. BRUGES FROM THE BELFRT TOWER . . 427 
 
 IV. A VISIT TO . THE CHATEAUX OF RUBENS AND 
 
 TENIERS 443 
 
 A PILGRIMAGE TO ST. DAVID'S 459 
 
I. 
 
 CAEOLINGIM EOMMCE. 
 
 CHIVALRY is a wide word, and suggests very different 
 ideas, ^cording as it is viewed from different aspects. 
 Good and evil grewipp in it side by side, in the same strange 
 fellowship with which they appear in every institution of 
 mediseval Christendom ; lying, so to speak, in broad masses, 
 rather than in the blended light and shadow of a later civili- 
 zation. The good is recognised by Arnold, when he giyes the 
 title of 'the best and holiest of kings' to Saint Lewis,^ — ^who 
 nevertheless thought it right to smite the blaspheming Jew 
 with his ' bonne epee tranchante,' and who especially patron- 
 ized the most questionable of all orders, that of the Teutonic 
 Knights ; and by Sir Francis PaJgrave, who traces, with 
 whatever truth, aU 'the purer and nobler forms' of the 
 chivalric sentiment to the nurture and discipHne of Ancient 
 Rome. The evil has been insisted on by Mr. Hallam and by 
 Dean Mihnan, not less positively than the good. Neither 
 good nor evil, however, are to be judged by the standard of 
 our own times ; and there is this broad difference between 
 them : the Antichristian spirit of war and bloodshed, as well 
 as those narrowed feudal relations against which Arnold 
 protests, were both, to a great extent, necessary, inevitable 
 features of the age ; to soften which, as far as might be, came 
 the courtesy, honour, and loyalty, making up the real good 
 of chivalry. Compare the rude 'leudes' who surrounded 
 
 * Oxford Essays. 1856. 
 
 1 
 
Z CAEOLINGIAN EOMANCE. 
 
 Childebert and Gontran, as we find them painted by Grregorj^ 
 of Tours, with the knights who followed Godfrey to the Holy. 
 Land, or with the ideal Eoland of the song of Roncevaux. 
 The old Teutonic spirit is as strongly marked in the last as 
 in the first ; but there are additional elements — touches of 
 nobleness and elevation quite unknown to the Franks of 
 Gregory. The fierce Mohammedanism of chivalry which led 
 on the Crusades, — ^perhaps even the old Teutonic ferocity, 
 the 'joy of battle,' the delight in the * clashing of spears on 
 the rims of the linden shields,' — may have been in some sort 
 confirmed by the solemn character given to the institution 
 itself, but certainly did not originate with it. A perpetual 
 state of warfare was the necessary condition of those rude, 
 fierce ages ; and it almost seems as if the only form in which 
 Christianity could be brought really to influence the life of a 
 mail-tjlad knight was that assumed by chivalry after it had 
 been taken under the immediate patronage and protection of 
 the Church. Ooeur-de-Lion himself, in almost every poittt, 
 not excepting the love of verse and of verse-making, reminds 
 us constantly of one of his own Viking ancestors : strip him 
 of his chivalry, and he becomes little, if at all, better than an 
 Eric or an Anlaf. 
 
 Slowly, as the Church interfered, and as the Christian 
 virtues were brought to bear on the strife-loving knight, 
 there came to be formed an ideal of the chivalric character, 
 to which the warrior looked up with reverence as great as 
 that with which the monk regarded the image of monastic 
 perfection as set forth in the fives of Benedict or of Bernard. 
 In this ideal, virtues and vices became blended just as in the 
 reality ; and the peculiar character of the age, varying as it 
 advanced, is always strikingly reflected in it. Such a pattern 
 of all knightly virtues, although it may never have been 
 thoroughly acted up to, must nevertheless have influenced in 
 a very high degree the manners which went to make up the 
 
GENEEAL OHAEACTER. 3 
 
 picture it presented, but which, in its turn, it helped to form 
 and to confirm. Hence the importance and interest attached 
 to mediaeval romance. A part of the belief of the times, it is 
 inseparably connected with their history. In this sense, the 
 Charlemagne and Roland of the trouvferes are not less true 
 and real than their historic prototypes — the rough King Karl 
 of Eginhard, or the shadowy ' Rotlandus,' chieftain of the 
 Breton marches, whose name is recorded by the same 
 authentic chronicler in the hst of those who fell at Ronce- 
 vaux. This cycle of Carolingian romance is, more immedi- 
 ately than any other, based on historical tradition, and 
 nowhere else is the gradual growth of chivalry more clearly 
 indicated. The historic Charles the G-reat represents a period 
 at which Christianity had already become aggressive, and 
 was beginning to identify herself with the innate combative-. 
 ness of the Frankish character. Hence the Saxon wars, with 
 their forced conversions ; the commencement of an alliance 
 between the sword and the cross which became rapidly 
 developed after the death of Charles, and which had attained 
 its full growth in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, when 
 the romances of the Douze Pairs offer us its fullest and 
 most perfect reflection. 
 
 Charles himself became, very soon after his death, an 
 heroic personage. Even while still living, the reputation of 
 his wonderful power, spreading over the whole of Christen^ 
 dom, and extending into the remote regions of the East and 
 North, may have received some marvellous additions. But 
 afterwards, when he had been seated in grim majesty within 
 the vaults of Aachen, his crown on his head, his sword by his 
 side, and the ivory book of the Gospels open on his lap — in 
 that church of Aachen where had been laid up the presents 
 of the Caliph Haroun, golden brocades of Persia, gems and 
 mysterious talismans from the shores of the Tigris and 
 Euphrates, — the fame of ' Carles li Roi,' the ' King with the 
 
4 CAEOLINGIAN EOMANCE. 
 
 snowy beard,' at once increased, and became changed in its 
 character, gathering to itself all the floating tradition, Pagan 
 as well as Christian, which was to be found throughout all the 
 countries where his name was still a household word, In that 
 rude age, when communication from one district to another 
 could only be effected slowly and with difficulty, — when roads 
 were few, and the great lines of the Eoman ways, howeyer 
 they may have been cared for by the great Emperor, had, 
 under his immediate successors, fallen into decay, and become 
 overgrown by thorns and brushwood, — when the greater part 
 of northern and western Europe was still covered with 
 enormous forests, wide-spreading heaths, and dreary morasses, 
 it is not difficult to understand how indistinct rumours rapidly 
 changed themselves into certainties, or how legend after 
 legend sprang up and became established with a vitality not 
 less indestructible than that of the green-branched oaks and 
 beeches under which they were born and nurtured. Only a 
 very few could see the great Emperor as he appiears in the 
 pages of Eginhard, gigantic in stature and in strength, the 
 head of his vast body of ' vassi ' and ' fideles,' bathing with 
 them in the warm springs of Aachen, or wrapped in his 
 winter vest of otter skins, and listening to songs celebrating 
 the heroes ' ante Agamemnona,' — those ' barbara et antiquis- 
 sima carmina' which had been collected by his express 
 orders. None could see him as modern research has enabled 
 us to do — the greatest and most powerful monarch who ever 
 guided the destinies of Christendom, — governing everywhere 
 by the might of his individual will, — directing everything, from 
 the studies of priests and bishops to the flowers and vege- 
 tables cultivated in the gardens of his villas, — ^presiding in 
 full armour at ecclesiastical councils, — dictating to popes and 
 princes, — and stretching the power of his sceptre in a great 
 cross, from the rocks of the Breton sea to the shores of the 
 Danube and the Dnieper, and from the cities of southern Italy 
 
GENEBAIi C^AEACTEE. O 
 
 to the pine-clad coasts of the then mysterious Baltic. Instead 
 of the real historic Charles there rose up another, — 'lesser 
 than Macbeth, yet greater,' — in many respects falling far 
 short of the power and influence wielded by the actual living 
 Emperor, but giving him a new history and new attributes, 
 partly caught from the characteristics of succeeding ages, and 
 partly obtained by blending confusedly together events which 
 had passed during the whole period of the Carolingian 
 dynasty. How completely all the different countries of 
 southern and northern Europe assisted -in forming this 
 picture, and to how great an extent their more ancient 
 national traditions became blended with the glories of 
 Charles and his paladins, we shall more readily perceive after 
 glancing at the series of metrical romances in which the idea 
 of the- heroic ' Charlemagne ' became finally embodied ; and 
 which, thanks to MM. Paulin Parie and Michel, have been 
 printed from the stately old manuscripts, once the delight of 
 high-bred dames and knights the ' mirrors of chivalry,' where, 
 like the sleeping beauty in the wood, they had reposed 
 through so many ages between their delicately-traced borders 
 of strawberry-leaves and wild columbines. 
 
 The Carolingian romances, it has already been observed, are, 
 more than any others popular during the middle ages, based 
 on direct historical tradition. Those of King Arthur, what- 
 ever obscure realities may be mingled with them, are never- 
 theless so overlaid with supernatural machinery gathered 
 from the misty storehouses of ' wild Wales ' and the ' olde 
 gentil Bretons,' that the legends of sea-girt Tintagel and of 
 Merlin the Wise can scarcely claim the title of ' Chansons de 
 Geste,' given properly to such romances as are more immedi- 
 ately occupied with the great deeds and warlike actions of 
 their heroes, and have consequently but little to do with the 
 under-world of dwarfs and elves, or with the fairy ladies — 
 Morgana or Urganda — whose dwelling was in the depths of 
 
6 CAEOLINGIAN EOMANCE. 
 
 some mountain lake, or amid the green, silent recesses of the 
 forest. Little or nothing of this marvellous spirit-world 
 appears in the metrical romances of Charles, although it 
 became- to some extent connected with his name in the 
 vaguer floating traditions of the people. The trouvferes deal 
 rather with the more legitimate miracles of the Church — 
 with the every-day belief in omens from bird and beast, or 
 with the shadowy ' visions of the night ' which come to warn 
 the great king on his bed, just as they appear in the earlier 
 sagas of the Scandinavian North. Celtic tradition has very 
 slightly affected the Carolingian romance cycle ; whilst, on 
 the other hand, the latter contributed many remarkable 
 features to the ' gestes ' of Sir Launcelot and his peers of the 
 E,oimd Table. In relation to the cycle of Arthur, Carolingian 
 romance occupies the same position as that of the Iliad to the 
 Odyssey. It exhibits no such legend as that of the Sangraal 
 — it has no 'Morgan la f^e' and no enchanter Merlin. Its 
 subjects throughout are the wars and great deeds of the 
 ' douze pairs,' their ancestors and successors, from the time of 
 Charles Martel to that of Charles le Chanve, thus embracing 
 the whole period during which the star of the Karlings was 
 in the ascendant. One division alone of these romances can 
 be said to be at all of a less warlike character — that which 
 narrates the bu*th and early youth of Charles the Great, and 
 which tells of the wanderings and troubles of his mother, 
 ' Berthe aux Grans Pi^s,' and of that happy time which 
 followed ' quand la Eeine Berthe filait ' — the golden age 
 when Queen Bertha span, and all the world was prosperous. 
 Taking this as the first division, the rest of the cycle em- 
 braces — 
 
 2. A series of expeditions attributed to Charles himself 
 but which are purely fictitious, and reflect the character of 
 the first age of the Crusades. These expeditions were 
 directed, according to the romances, first against the infidels 
 
DIYISIONS. 7 
 
 of the Holy Land, and afterwards against those of Spain. 
 Their object was to recoTer from the possession of these sons 
 of Mahoun and Termagaunt the relics of the Saviour's 
 passion — the holy lance, the crown of thorns, and the nails. 
 
 3. The historical expedition of Charles the Great against 
 the Arabs of Spain, terminating in the famous disaster of 
 Roncevaux — an expedition which, although it is dwelt on at 
 no great length in the pages of the chroniclers, caught at 
 once the attention of the trouvferes, and became magnified to 
 the almost entire exclusion of those wars in Italy and beyond 
 the Rhine, in the prosecution of which the life of Charles was 
 mainly passed. 
 
 4. The single romance of Guiticlin de Sassoigne, or the 
 ' Chanson des Saisnes/ which alone commemorates the Saxon 
 wars and conquests ; and 
 
 5. The wars in which the Christians of Graul drove back 
 the Saracens beyond the Pyrenees, and wrested from them all 
 the southern provinces which they had occupied, besides 
 Catalonia on the Spanish side of the mountains. Time and 
 place are mingled in utter confusion throughout this class of 
 romances, the most important of which form an almost 
 independent cycle, known as that of Guillaume au Court- 
 Nez. 
 
 Of the rude and almost contemporary songs, from which 
 sprang the elaborate Chanson de Geste of the later centuries, 
 we find distinct traces in the pages of more than one 
 chronicler. The monk of St. GaU — ^that great monastery on 
 the shore of the Lake of Constance, founded by the disciple 
 of the Irish Columban, and protected and enriched by the 
 piety of successive generations of Karlings, — who compiled 
 his annals at the express desire of Lewis the Pious, not thirty 
 years after the death of Charles, has inserted long passages 
 which are evidently direct translations from the ' folk-songs ' 
 of Italy and of the countries north of the Alps — such as the 
 
8 CAEOLINGIAN EOMANCE. 
 
 scene before the walls of Pavia, where the Lombard King 
 watches the approach of Charles, and the story of the 
 champion Einhere, who drags his horse through the swollen 
 waters of the Meuse.* Half a century later, Benedict of 
 Soracte, who wrote a life of Eginhard, tells us of the journey 
 — ^half pilgrimage, half crusade — ^undertaken by Charles the 
 Great to Jerusalem and Constantinople. This is a realm of 
 pure fable, into which popular and monastic imagination had 
 advanced thus early, — a reflection of the character of Bene- 
 dict's age, in which the increasing dangers of Eastern 
 pilgrimage were already pointing in the direction of the 
 Crusades. To form the later hero of romance, however, 
 strands from remoter lands, and of different fibres, were to be 
 intertwined with these local songs and stories ; in many of 
 which the great deeds of elder gods and heroes had already 
 become confused with those of King Charles. In the Roman 
 annals, not less than in those of his native North, the knight 
 ' sought his pattern of courage, adventure, and strenuous- 
 ness.'t ' Don Alexander ' was scarcely less a favourite in 
 mediseval Spain than ' my Cid ' or Pelayo. The story of 
 ' Sir Orfeo ' and his adventures in the realm of Faerie was 
 not less frequently the theme of the minstrel than the lay of 
 Camelot, or the daring deeds and unhappy loves of ' Tristrem 
 the knight, who fought for England.' In short, the old 
 legends of the banks of the Tiber, 'coelo gratissimus amnis,' 
 retained their power, and assumed a new vitality amono- 
 strange races and under foreign conquerors. We cannot 
 doubt that the general romance of northern Europe, especi- 
 ally- in its earlier forms, was greatly influenced by them, just 
 as that of Provence and the Troubadours, which in its turn 
 affected the verse of the Langue d' Qui, exhibits traces of yet 
 
 * Moncmh. Scmgallensis, 1. ii. c. 26, ap. Pertz, Mon. Germ. Hist 
 t. ii. 
 + Palgrave's Normcmdy and England, i. 34. 
 
SOURCES. 9 
 
 more remarkable traditions, resulting from the long-lingering 
 Greek colony of Marseilles. Greek words and Greek choral 
 dances may to this day be heard and seen in the neighbour- 
 hood of the old Phocaean city ;* and as late as the eleventh 
 century there, still remained in the Rouergue and the Tou- 
 lousain, recollections of the Iliad and the Odyssey, which 
 had been taught in the schools of southern Gaul up to the 
 end of the fifth century. 
 
 From these sources, then, — early and almost contemporary 
 songs, heathen Teutonic traditions, classical traditions, the 
 colouring of the age given by the trouvfere, and perhaps, 
 though to a very slight degree, additions supplied by the 
 trouvfere's own imagination, — at last " arose the complete 
 Chanson de Geste, the full and elaborate portraiture of the 
 chivalry of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. A complete 
 romance cycle, such as the Carolingian, deals with the life of 
 its principal hero from the cradle to the grave, — from the 
 prodigies which accompanied his birth to his final disappear- 
 ance from the scene of his earthly exploits up that ' shining 
 stair' by which, as repeated visions attested, the faithful 
 knight, no less than the sainted monk or hermit, ascended to 
 the joys of Paradise. History is remarkably silent as to the 
 early life of Charles. Even Eginhard was unacquainted with 
 the place of his birth, although he alludes to the great in- 
 fluence over him exercised by his mother. Bertha. The trou- 
 vferes, however, as in duty bound, seized on all this period, 
 and fiUed it up with a series of minute fictions, for which, 
 from whatever sources they were elaborated, whether from 
 early songs or from foreign and misapprehended traditions, 
 it is difficult not to suppose that they had some historical 
 foundation, however slight and indistinct. Berthe au Grand 
 Pied, the mother of Charles the Great, was, according to the 
 romances, a daughter of the King of Hungary. She is be- 
 * Ampere, lAit. de la France avant le 12™' jSiWe, t. i . p. 126. 
 
10 
 
 CAEOLINGIAN EOMANCB. 
 
 trothed to Pepin, who charges the intendant of his palace to 
 seek and bring her home. But this officer has a daughter 
 precisely resembling Bertha. He substitutes her for the true 
 princess ; and whilst the ' false Florimel ' becomes the wife 
 of Pepin, Bertha is exposed in the great forest of Mans, 
 where she wanders long in the utmost danger and distress, 
 having, says the trouvere, neither ' gastiaux,' ' bescuit,' nor 
 'godale,'* and being in great fear of the wild beasts, who would 
 eat her, she declares, without the trouble of cooking — ' plus 
 t6t crue que cuite.' But the Lady Bertha is reserved for 
 nobler destinies. She finds shelter and protection in the 
 house of a miller, where she remains for many years, humble 
 and unknown, yet winning all hearts by her simple truth and 
 patience, until one day King Pepin, who has lost his way in 
 the chase, arrives at the mill, and is struck with the great 
 beauty of Bertha. She accepts his love, and seizes the 
 opportunity of a nocturnal interview, like Mariana of the 
 Moated Grange, to unfold her true story. From this point 
 all goes well — the traitors are punished, Bertha is restored, 
 and the birth of Charles is the result of King Pepin's chance 
 visit to the solitary mill in the forest. 
 
 The romance of Bertha, simple and quaint as it is, is filled, 
 like Shakespeare's 'As You Like It,' with the life and free air 
 of the woods in which its scene is for the most part laid. No 
 mere description could take us so completely into the heart 
 of those vast forests, the jealously-preserved hunting-grounds 
 of the old .Karlings, where the wolf howled and the bison 
 wandered, and where the great Auroch — King Arthur's 
 ' Questing beast ' — ' stalked to its shaggy lair ' 
 
 Through paths and alleys roofed with sombre green. 
 
 If the later romances give us the life of the warrior, we have 
 here the face of the country, covered with its waste woods 
 
 * Anglicfe, 'good ale.' 
 
LA EEINE BEETHE. 11 
 
 and deserts, alike the retreats of saints and hermits and the 
 lurking-places of broken men and outlaws. Bertha herself 
 became the ideal of all womanly excellence : for 'domum 
 mansit, lanam fecit,' was scarcely less the highest praise of a 
 mediseval dame than of a Roman matron ; and the spindle of 
 ' la Eeine Berthe ' was her sceptre of happiness and pros- 
 perity. She is said to have founded the monastery of Saint 
 Avelle — dedicated, in memory of her wanderinlgs, to Our 
 Lady of the Woods ; and a mysterious figure, belonging 
 in all probability to some earlier mythology — 'la B«ine 
 Pedauque,' — whose one ' goosefoot ' appears from beneath 
 the long folds of her robe, became connected with her legend, 
 and was placed among the queen ' nursing mothers ' on the 
 exteriors of many cathedrals. Such a statue, apparently of 
 the eleventh century — nearly the time of the romance itself, 
 — still exists above the great portal of the Cathedral of 
 Le Mans. 
 
 After the death of Pepin, his two sons by the false Bertha 
 seize the kingdom, and attempt to destroy Charles ; who, 
 stUl a child, escapes with difficulty to a monastery, and thence 
 to the Court of Galafer, King of the Saracens, at Cordova. 
 Here he remains for some years under the name of Mainet ; 
 responds to the love of Galerane, the Paynim's daughter, for 
 whose bright eyes he performs his first deeds of valour, and 
 finally carries her back with him into France, where he kiUs 
 the usurpers, and recovers his kingdom. Such were the 
 romance legends of the early youth of Charles the Grreat. 
 The series which follows in order of time, belongs to that re- 
 markable expedition to the Holy Land without which, in the 
 estimation of the crusading centuries, the life of a great hero 
 would have been altogether incomplete. How early these 
 traditions had arisen, we have already seen. The extent of 
 historical foundation for them seems to have been the 
 negotiations which are recorded as having taken place be- 
 
12 CAEOLINGIAN BOMANCE. 
 
 tween Charles and the Caliph' Haroun, in order to procure 
 greater Uberty and security for the rapidly increasing 
 numbers of Christian pilgrims. But it soon became univer- 
 sally believed that the great Emperor had himself visited 
 Palestine, and had there wrested from the Saracens the holy 
 rehcs of the Saviour's Passion. Even Urban II., according 
 to that version of his famous speech at the Council of 
 Clermont preserved by Eobert the Monk, who was himself 
 present there, held up to his audience the examples of Charles 
 and of his son Lewis, hke whom they were now called upon to 
 march to the deliverance of Jerusalem, ' the royal city — the 
 centre of the whole earth.'* One entire romance yet remains, 
 commemorating the journey of the Emperor ; and allusions 
 to it are scattered thickly through all the other series, inter- 
 spersed with such various marvels and miracles as could 
 hardly fail to occur in connexion with rehcs of so great 
 value. The holy crown, made of a 'jonc outre-marin,' 
 thick-set with thorns of exceeding sharpness, blossomed 
 afresh, as though in honour of so great a champion, when the 
 shriue which contained it was opened for Charles's inspec- 
 tion. A savour as of Paradise fiUed all the place ; and the 
 bishop, severing a portion all green and fragrant, gave it to 
 Charles, who, according to one trouv^re, placed it in his glove, 
 which remained miraculously suspended in the air until 
 the shrine was again closed. The entire crown, the lance, 
 and the nails, were brought to Rome by the Emperor, and 
 deposited in the ancient Basilica of St. Peter. But there the 
 romancers did not long suffer them to remain. According to 
 them, Balan, an 'amiral ' of the Spanish Saracens, despatched 
 his son Ferabras, at the head of a formidable army, into 
 Italy. He marched on Rome, took, and pillaged it, and 
 carried off with him the glorious relics. In order to recover 
 
 * Robertus Monachus, Sist. Hierosolymitana, ap. Bongars, Gesta 
 Dei per Francos, t. i. 
 
EONCEVAUX. 13 
 
 them, Charles and his paladins undertake a fresh expedition 
 beyond the Pyrenees, — a crusade as completely without 
 historical foundation as that to the Holy Land. But Spain, 
 like Palestine, was sacred ground for the Christian hero ; and 
 in the romances which belong to this expedition, together 
 with those commemorating the more authentic ' razzia ' of 
 Eoncevaux, we have the fullest and most complete pictures of 
 the chivalry of the thirteenth century occurring throughout 
 the whole series of Carolingian romance. 
 
 There were many causes which led to this great prominence 
 given to the contest with the Spanish Arabs, as well by the 
 trouv^res of the Langue d'Oui as by the Provengal trouba- 
 dours. Charles the Great, it is true, crossed the Pyrenees 
 but once ; but from the year 714, when the first Saracen 
 host broke into Septimania, to the beginning of the eleventh 
 century, when they attempted in vain to retake Narbonne, 
 and finally abandoned Gaul, there was incessant strife be- 
 tween them and the Christians of the southern provinces, — 
 a strife which from the beginning had assumed the character 
 of a crusade, and which became more and more a war of 
 religion as the time drew near for Clermont and Peter the 
 Hermit. The knight who fell in battle with the Moors was 
 not less sure of his reward than if he had been stricken under 
 the walls of Acre or Jerusalem. ' The King of Heaven,' says 
 the troubadour Marcabrus, ' has mercifully provided for us a 
 laver ' (lavador) ' close at hand, — such an one as cannot be 
 equalled on this side of the sea, or beyond it as far as the 
 valley of Jehoshaphat.' In this strife the Carolingian 
 dynasty had been deeply engaged. Charles Martel had 
 beaten back the Arabs from Poictiers, and had driven them 
 from Provence and Septimania, Charles the Great sought 
 them, though to less purpose, under the walls of Saragossa ; 
 and afterwards, when the kingdom of Acquitaine, founded by 
 him as an additional protection, had become broken and 
 
14 CAEOLINGIAN EOMANCE. 
 
 divided, it was still the chiefs who had fought under, or 
 revolted from, the banner of the Karlings, who continued the 
 conflict with the sleepless southern invaders. Various races 
 had taken part in these conflicts, — ^northern Franks, old 
 GaUo-Romans of Provence and Acquitaiae, Basques and 
 Iberians of Vasconia and Navarre. The country was fuU of 
 ancient and famous cities, — Nismes, Toulouse, Aries, Nar- 
 bonne, — relics of Roman art and magnificence ; nor were its 
 natural features less calculated to nurse the spirit of poetry 
 and romance. Between the hostile races rose perpetually 
 that long chain of snowy peaks, glancing waterfalls, and 
 fathomless precipices, the haunt of the eagle and the bear, 
 among whose inaccessible recesses old Basque tradition 
 placed the abode of mysterious spirits and demons, and whose 
 awe-inspiring solitude is recognised in their ancient proverb 
 which asserts that ' He who has never been in the " port " of 
 the mountain, or on the sea, knows not how to worship Grod.'* 
 Through these ' ports,' the work, according to them, of Ionian 
 magicians, aided by fire and vinegar, the Arab hosts came 
 pouring down, with their striped ' haiks ' and gilded lances 
 glittering between the rocks, contributing, by the strangeness 
 of their appearance, to the strong impression made by the 
 whole nature of the contest, by the country itself, and by old 
 national traditions. Nor was the Arab character itself with- 
 out its influence. Charles the Grreat had formed with them 
 other than hostile relations. The Saracen emir, Sohman-el- 
 Arabi, accompanied by many Andalusian chiefs, was present 
 at Paderbom, in the camp of ' Karilah,' as the Arab writers 
 call him, when, in the year 777, the forced baptism of the 
 revolted Saxons took place there. Their wreathed turbans 
 
 * Fauriel, Hist, de la Qmde M6ridionah sous la Bondnation des Gon- 
 quh-wnts Germams, iii. p. 64. 'El Bortat,'— a name formed from the 
 Basque ' Portua,' or ' Ports,' was that given by the Arabs to the whole 
 chain. The passes were ' El Abouab,' the gates. 
 
EONCEVAUX. 15 
 
 and damasked swords must have been sufficiently remark- 
 able among the crowd of Frank warriors and priests ; but the 
 courtesy and spirit of honour which make Saladin himself 
 one of the most perfect representations of the ' gentle knight,' 
 were far from unknown among the Spanish Arabs, who seem 
 to have given the first great lessons in these virtues to 
 Christian Europe. Peaceful intercourse, no less than the 
 accidents of war, contributed to spread their reputation. 
 Many of the great southern monasteries had a certain num- 
 ber of ships belonging to them, which came up the streams 
 of the Rhone and the Garonne laden with the red leather 
 of Cordova, eastern gems and spiceries, and Arabian silks, 
 brocaded in gold and bright colours, — ^materials for the rich 
 cope or dalmatic ; but which also brought with them stories 
 of the refinement and courtesy of the ' heathen hounds ' 
 beyond the mountains. Of the direct manner in which 
 the Saracen chivalry was recognised by the romancers, we 
 have sufficient and remarkable proof. 
 
 Although the romances which commemorate the expedition 
 of Charles to Spain for the recovery of the holy relics belong, 
 in due order of time, to an earlier period, they do not, at 
 least in the state in which we now possess them, exhibit 
 traces of so great antiquity as the famous Chanson de Roland, 
 — ^which title M. Michel has ventured to assign to the Ronce- 
 vaux romance printed by him from its earhest text in the 
 Bodleian Library. Whether this be indeed the war-song ' of 
 Roland and of Ohver ' which the Jongleur Taillefer sang at 
 Hastings as he rode before the Norman soldiers tossing his 
 sword into the air, is, perhaps, not capable of proof; but there 
 are certain peculiarities which render it at least probable, — 
 such, for instance, as the shout of 'Aoi ! aoi ! ' with which the 
 long mono rhymed divisions are occasionally terminated. Of 
 the whole series of romances connected with Spain, this of 
 Roncevaux is probably the earliest. The famous expedition 
 
16 CABOLINGIAN EOMANCE. 
 
 of Charles the Great — undertaken, as it has been suggested, 
 with the design of confining the Arabs beyond the line of the 
 Ebro, of securiag in Christian hands the passes of the mount- 
 ains, and thus of checking the constant forays of the 
 Saracens — was perhaps of far greater importance than the 
 brief notices of it in the chronicles would at first lead us to 
 suspect. It is, at least, certain that the two bodies of troops 
 which crossed the mountains, one by the defiles of the 
 Eastern Pyrenees, the other by the passes from St. Jean de 
 Luz, were collected from all the races of the empire, and 
 made up an enormous army. ' Of the failure of the expedi- 
 tion, — ^the unexpected check at Saragossa, which 8oliman-el- 
 Arabi, the same emir who had been present at Paderborn, 
 had undertaken to deliver into the hands of ' Karilah,' — and 
 the ultimate rout at Koncevaux, where the Frankish army, in 
 Eginhard's gentle words, ' slightly experienced the perfidy of 
 the Basques,' — we know too little to speak with any degree 
 of certainty. Yet this fatal defeat, whatever may have been 
 its real importance, made from the very first a deep impres- 
 sion on the minds of the Grallic population. Kude songs and 
 ballads connected with it existed from a very early period, 
 and formed the groundwork at once of the Chanson de Roland 
 and of the prose chronicle of the pseudo-Turpin. The story 
 contained the germ of that deep religious significance which 
 afterwards became more and more connected with all combats 
 against the Moors. Roncevaux was to the Christians what 
 Poictiers had been to the Arabs, — ' Balat el Choada,' — the 
 ' Path of Martyrs ' ; and Eoland, who fell there, was made 
 the type of all knightly virtue and devotion. Even Saint 
 James, 'Patron y Capitan-general de las Espanas,' himself 
 the active protector of the country against the infidels, was 
 indebted for numberless pilgrims to his shrine at Compo- 
 stella to the devotion excited by the fate of Roland and his 
 peers, as set forth in the monastic romance of the pseudo- 
 
THE BOMANCEES' CHAELEMAGNE. 17 
 
 Turpin, which is said to have been compiled with this especial 
 object toward the close of the twelfth century. 
 
 The Roncevaux songs and romances were probably the 
 germs from which sprang the series of pure fictions relating 
 to the expedition for the relics. In both we have assembled 
 the whole famous group of the 'douze pairs,' — each of whose 
 characters is rudely, yet distinctly marked, from the recreant 
 knight, Ganelon the Betrayer, to the venerable Duke Naymes, 
 the ' TroXvfjLrfTK OSvo-o-eus' of the company. The central figure 
 is that of Charles himself, now fully developed, and in- 
 vested with all the various attributes derived from a long and 
 diversified string of traditional sources. The ' Charlemagne ' 
 thus presented to us by the romancers is, in many respects, 
 remarkable. The actual position of the historic monarch had 
 been in a great degree exceptional. It was by the force of his 
 individual character alone that he had so completely succeeded 
 during his lifetime in mastering all the powers of Christendom. 
 No succeeding monarch fills so completely the entire historical 
 canvas, to the exclusion of all the lesser chiefs and nobles. 
 What is called the feudal system was as yet but in progress of 
 development, and the dukes and ' comites ' who assembled at 
 the Easter plaids felt each one the direct influence -of the 
 Emperor's unbending wiU, against which he found it alto- 
 gether vain to struggle. It was this unlimited power which 
 had raised him to the height of an ideal personage; but it was 
 not thus that the romancers could see him. To them he was 
 the Capetan monarch of their own time, — more powerful, 
 indeed, but surrounded, hke him, by mighty vassals, scarcely 
 less kinglike or independent. For the trouv^re could no more 
 conceive of ' Charlemagne ' and Roland otherwise than as the 
 feudal king and baron of the twelfth century, than Brother 
 Anselm or Brother Hildebrand could image to himself Saul or 
 David combating with any other arms than the steel-ringed 
 hauberk, pointed helmet, and broad Norman sword, in which 
 
 2 
 
18 OAEOLINGIAN BOMANCE. 
 
 fashion his hand had so cunningly depicted them upon the 
 pages of his great Monastery Bible. 
 
 As though by way of compensation for the real power 
 of which they had deprived him, the romancei-s confer on 
 Charles the Great certain other attributes of a far more 
 marvellous character. He becomes, in their hands, the 
 representative of those mighty old giants of the North, one 
 class of whom was held to be as well disposed toward the 
 ordinary race of mortals as the other was hostile. Like 
 Starkodder, the Norwegian champion, whose tooth served for 
 the clapper of a church bell, Charlemagne is of enormous 
 size and stature ; yet ' gent ad U cors,' — there is nothing 
 deformed or ungainly, and such is the native majesty of his 
 countenance, that the stranger who once looks- on it has no 
 occasion to ask who he is. His beard, white as hawthorn or 
 the laurel-flower, falls below his waist, like Thor's ; and 
 when he is enraged or anxious, it is his habit to stroke and 
 pull it, in due Oriental fashion, and to twist his long ' gemuns,' 
 or moustaches. No wonder that his beard is white and his 
 head ' tut flurit.' Like Nestor, or like Hildebrand, the cham- 
 pion of Theodoric, his years have long exceeded the usual 
 limits of the life of man. He has been two hundred years in 
 Spain when the defeat of Roncevaux takes place, thus spend- 
 ing nearly his whole lifetime in combating the Moors, — for 
 ' in my judgment,' says MarsUie, ' amiral ' of Saragossa, the 
 romance representative of SoHman-el-Arabi, ' dous cenz anz 
 ad e mielz.' His famous sword ' Joyeuse,' with its inscrip- 
 tion, 'Decem praeceptorum custos Carolus'; his spear, which 
 was never lifted against an enemy but it was sure to give 
 a fatal wound, and which became confused with the holy 
 lance of Longinus, brought back by him from Palestine ; 
 the banner of St. Maurice and the Theban legion, always 
 borne before him, and always striking a mysterious terror 
 into the hearts of the infidels, — assist in making up the 
 
EOLAND. 19 
 
 picture ; which, it must not be forgotten, was received by 
 the Jongleur's audience as perfectly authentic, — none the 
 less so on account of its marvels, for ' God,' in the words 
 of Biom of Drontheim, when attempting to account for the 
 good swords and supernatural armour of the old heroes of 
 the Wilkina Saga, ' was well able to bestow all these things 
 on them, and even as much again.' With all this, however, 
 Charles himself takes little or no active part iu the romances. 
 Grand, solemn, and almost supernatural, he fiUs the central 
 place. The inspiration and the glory stream from him. But 
 the deeds of strength and of daring, the single combats and 
 adventurous expeditions, are imdertaken by the chiefs and 
 paladins who surround him, and who, in their turn, are not 
 less marvellously favoured and endowed. They are, in short, 
 great feudal barons, with a colouring drawn from the stores 
 of an older religion, just as Charlemagne is the feudal 
 monarch, with the attributes of Thor or of Odin. 
 
 All the ' douze pairs,' with the single exception of Ganelon, 
 are faithful to Charlemagne. But the great pattern of fidelity, 
 as of most other knightly virtues, is Roland. He it is who 
 exhorts the others, in their greatest difiiculties, — when the 
 countless host of the Saracens is approaching, and the de- 
 struction of the Christian seems inevitable — 
 
 Ben devuns ci estre pur nostre rei ; 
 
 Pur son seignor deit horn sufiEreir deatreiz 
 
 E endurer e granz chalz e granz freiz. 
 
 Never, he continues, let a ' malvaise can^un ' be sung of us, 
 who have the right on our side. But great as is the advance 
 beyond the rude chiefs of Gregory of Tours, and even of the 
 Nibelungen-lied, the paladins of ' Charlemagne ' stiU exhibit 
 a certain ruggedness of character very far removed from the 
 gentilesse oi the Black Prince or of the ' sans reproche ' 
 Bayard. True, they are combating the infidel sons of Mahoun, 
 with whom no faith was to be kept ; yet it is a striking proof 
 
20 CAEOLINGIAN BOMANCB. 
 
 of the extent to which Arabian chivalry must have influenced 
 that of southern Europe, that the most remarkable example 
 of knightly courtesy occurring throughout all these romances 
 should be assigned, not to Roland, nor even to Charles the 
 Great, but to the Saracen giant Ferabras, during his combat 
 with the paladin OKver. The Romance of Ferabras is one of 
 many which must have existed commemorating the Spanish 
 expedition in quest of the holy rehcs, but almost the only one 
 now remaining. Few of the Carohngian series had a wider 
 reputation ;* and even Don Quixote's niece and housekeeper 
 could not find it in their hearts to commit it to the flames. 
 Ferabras himself, who, at the end of the combat, touched by 
 supernatural grace, and by the arguments of OHver, declares 
 his readiness to embrace the Christian faith, is the romance 
 representative of the true or ' faithful ' giant, well known to 
 old Northern tradition, just as St. Christopher represented 
 him in the more solemn legends of the cloister, t 
 
 The religious element, never altogether absent in these 
 Saracen romances, appears curiously in the sudden conversion 
 of the giant; too courteous a personage, as it would seem, to 
 be allowed to remain a worshipper of ' Bafom ' and ' Mahoun.' 
 In the Roncevaux ' chanson ' it is conspicuous throughout ; 
 and perhaps the most striking scene to be met with in the 
 whole range of romance is that which occurs after the fatal 
 battle, where Roland, mortally wounded, drags himself over 
 the field, and gathering, one by one, the bodies of the ' douze 
 pairs,' arranges them, kneeling as though still alive, before the 
 Archbishop Turpin, who has just strength to pronounce his 
 absolution before he, too, sinks down beside them. Thus 
 Roland is left alone, the only survivor of all that mighty 
 
 * Robert Bruce, during the famous night-passage of Loch Lomond, 
 read to his followers the Story of Ferabras. — Barbour's Bruce, b. ii., 
 V. 832. 
 
 t Grimm, D. Mythpl. 496. 
 
THE SONG OF EONCEVAUX. 21 
 
 host; and then follows the attempt to break his sword, 
 Durendal, ' the heavy striker,' in which he only succeeds in 
 splitting the rock from top to bottom. The entire passage 
 curiously exhibits the working of trouvere after trouv^re, each 
 having added in succession his own version of Roland's address 
 to his sword. It displays so well the general character of 
 these romances, that it is worth while to attempt a translation 
 of some portion of it, including the death of Roland. The 
 ' olifan,' which ' Charlemagne ' hears beyond the mountains, 
 has already been sounded : — 
 
 Then once again Sir Roland struck the block of Sardine stone, 
 Where on the mountain-side he stood, of all that host, alone. 
 Lotid rang the brand, yet brake not ; no splinter fell away — 
 No fragment bright and glittering on the ground beside him lay. 
 And when he saw no strength of arm might burst the brand in twain. 
 With a low and mournful voice. Sir Roland spake again : — 
 ' Ah, Durendal, my sword ! thou, art fair, and clear, and bright ; 
 How thou shinest in the sun like a ray of fiery light ! 
 King Charles he sat alone, in the country of the Moor, 
 When an angel of the Lord stood that mighty king before. 
 And he bore thee, Durendal, thou sword of fiery glance, 
 And he said the King should gird with thee a noble peer of France : 
 So Charles the gentle King, who was ever first in fight, 
 Girt thee firmly to my side in all the douze-peers' sight. 
 And I won with thee, my sword, both Namon and Bretagije, 
 And all the land of Poitou, and aU the land of Maine ; 
 And the Norman saw thee shining, and the Lombard on his plain, 
 And the fields of fair Provence, and the hiUs of Acquitaine ; 
 And we won the woods of Brabant, and Flanders by the sea. 
 And Rome, that mighty city, and aU wide Burgundy. 
 Constantinople heard thy strokes upon the hawberks ring. 
 And we made the Saxon people bend low before the King ; 
 All the cities and the countries we won with many a blow, 
 Where ruleth Charles the King, whose beard is white as snow. 
 And now for thee, mine own good sword, the tears are faUing down, 
 That I must die, and leave thee in the country of Mahoun ; — 
 Thou who sittest in the heavens — Thou who watchest from on high^- 
 Save the realm of France, I pray Thee, from shame and villany !' 
 
 Then once again Sir Roland struck the Sardine stone with might. 
 Till sparks flew round about him like the shooting stars at night ; 
 
22 CABOLINGIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 Loud rang the noble brand, yet no splinter fell away — 
 
 No fragment bright arid glittering on the ground beside him lay. 
 
 And when he saw no strength of arm might burst the brand in twain, 
 
 All softly to himself. Sir Roland spake again : — 
 
 ' Ah, Durendal, my sword ! thou holy sword, and fair. 
 
 Within thy hilt of gold lie relics strange and rare : 
 
 The blood of holy Basil — the robe of Saint Marie — 
 
 And Saint Denys' hair, who aideth us in our extremity ; 
 
 It fitteth not that heathen men should bind thee to their side, — 
 
 Thou oughtest in a Christian land for ever io abide. 
 
 It fitteth not that godless men should win thee, sword of mine. 
 
 Who didst smite the heathen Saxons, beyond the river Rhine, — 
 
 Who didst conquer all the lands where ruleth Charles the King, 
 
 Whose beard is long and white, like the laurel-flower in spring.' 
 
 Beneath a lofty pine-tree. Count Roland dying lay. 
 The sun shone o'er the Spanish land, toward the close of day ; 
 And he thought of pleasant France, and the cities waUfed high, 
 And how of old he won broad lands, fighting valiantly, — 
 And of Charles the King, his master, he who girt him with the sword. 
 And of the Lady Alda — she who pledged to him her word. 
 He might not choose but weep, for he knew his end was nigh. 
 And evermore for mercy he called to G-od on high : — 
 ' Oh, holy Father of the world, to Thee I cry this day. 
 Who didst Lazaius call forth from the tomb wherein he lay. 
 Who of old preservedst Daniel within the lion's den, — 
 Thou Helper of the sorrowful — Thou Keeper of all men, — 
 Save my spirit from the evil one, and blot out all the crimes. 
 Whilst the life was in my body, wrought against Thee oftentimes .' 
 And then, to prove his words were true, he flung his gauntlet high. 
 Where Saint Michael the Archangel watched o'er Mm silently. — 
 With his sword beside him laid, about the closing of the day, 
 And his palms together on his breast, his spirit passed away. 
 But God sent down His angels, a bright and burning train, 
 With Michael, who doth guard the ships upon the stormy main, — 
 And to the gates of Paradise, with hymns and harpings high. 
 They bore the spirit of the Count. God grant us so to die ! 
 
 Thus fell Eoland the Good — the ' wall of clerks ' — the 
 ' staff of orphans ' — the ' tongue,' like Thomas of Ercildoune, 
 that ' knew not how to lie.' A hermit, from his cell in a dis- 
 tant wilderness — so the legend asserted — beheld the vision of 
 angels, and heard the celestial music with which his spirit 
 was conveyed to the regions of the blest. So St. Maurus, at 
 
EOLAND. 23 
 
 Auxerre, had seen in an ecstasy the hghted way by which 
 Benedict of Nursia had ascended, after his death at Monte 
 Casino. Like Charles himself, Roland was an inheritor of 
 many marvels connected with the Old Northern Champions, 
 and, as in their case, his fall is succeeded by earthquake, 
 storm, and thunder.* But in no respect is the influence 
 of Christianity on the national literature, and on the heroic 
 ideal, more strongly marked than in such a death-scene 
 as this at Eoncevaux. The Greek hero, let his toils be 
 what they might, could look to no reward after they were 
 ended — 
 
 ' ^i'X'7 S'w' i'^tpoi aTTOTTTa/ieyi; jrcTrorijTat. 
 
 Even ihe joys of the Northern warrior in his Valhalla were 
 but shadowy. But when the faithful champion of Christen- 
 dom had fallen on his last battle-field, his happiness was only 
 commencing ; and the paladins of Roncevaux became a great 
 army of martyrs, whose blood had been shed in defence of all 
 that was true and right. White and red roses, so it was be- 
 lieved, sprang up over all the field, and shed their fragrance 
 through the mountain valley. Roland was gradually invested 
 vdth every conceivable chivalric virtue ; and over ihe whole 
 scene of his death a half-saddened, half-triumphant character 
 was thrown, till its touches of tender feeling, in the midst of 
 the surrounding strife and grimness, remind us of the delicate 
 leafage and flower carvings that here and there shine out from 
 their capitals through the solemn gloom of some vast old 
 Gothic cathedral. 
 
 The chivalry of 'le bon Troyen Ector' — the strength of 
 Samson — the ' gentil cceur, loyal et preu,' of Judas Maccabseus 
 
 even the wisdom of Solomon — are aU bestowed on Roland 
 
 in the rhymed chronicle of Philippe Mouskes, toward the 
 middle of the thirteenth century. But although the old Canon 
 
 * Grimm, D. Mythol. 
 
24 CAEOLINGIAN BOMANCE. 
 
 of Toiimay may seem to have painted a very complete picture 
 of the perfect knight, one type yet remains which was not 
 represented by Eoland. Don Jorge de Manrique, in those 
 famous ' Coplas ' which are to this day popular in Spain, 
 places side by side the two modes of life which in mediseval 
 estimation were held especially to merit the Divine favour, — 
 that of the monk in his cell, and that of the knight spent in 
 combating the Moors. Distinct as they appear, a tendency 
 to the union of the two was very early exhibited. It finally 
 resulted in the formation of the religious orders of knight- 
 hood; but its first indications appear in the hves of those early 
 chieftains who, after a long career of war and tumult, retired 
 to end their days within the walls of some peaceful monas- 
 tery. The knight thus, to use a remarkable expression, ' sub 
 baltheo aureo amorem Dei retinens,' is eminently a figure of 
 Carolingian times. In the romance of that cycle he is repre- 
 sented by ' Guillaume au Court-Nez,' ' Guillaume de Tou- 
 louse,' 'Gruillaume d' Orange,' 'Guillaume le Moine' — for by 
 all these names, and many more, he is known — ' li meillor 
 home qui one b^ust de vin ' of the trouvferes, the ' jejunii 
 a;mator, in vigiliis pervigil ' of the monks. Throughout, the 
 romances of Guillaume rest on historical foundations. After 
 the Rpncevaux defeat, William, who had long been a constant 
 companion of the Emperor, was appointed Count of Toulouse; 
 and — during the fresh stream of Arab invasion under El 
 Hakem, ' Modzafer,' the Victorious — his name is always 
 conspicuous until the fall of Barcelona and the establishment 
 of a Christian seigneury beyond the mountains, the germ of 
 the future Catalonia. He then disappears for a time ; but 
 only to emerge into greater celebrity as the founder of a 
 monastery in the valley of Gelona, one of the wildest in the 
 Cevennes, the church of which, Byzantine in character, and 
 decorated with marbles probably obtained from the. ruined 
 temples of Nismes, still exists to remind the visitor of the 
 
ST. WILLIAM OP THE DESEET. 25 
 
 once-renowned Count "William. The little patches of earth 
 lying between the rocks that everywhere break upwards 
 along the steep sides of the glen, were carefully cultivated by 
 the Count-abbot and his monks. Vineyards and cornfields 
 took the place of "rough fern and brushwood ; and the last 
 glimpse which his monastic biographer affords us of the 
 former scourge of the Saracens exhibits him mounted on his 
 ' aseUus,' and carrying at his saddle a great flask of wine for 
 the benefit of the exhausted reapers in the harvest-field. 
 
 The life of ' Saint Guillaume du Desert ' — one of his many 
 names, and that by which his monastery is still known — was 
 in itself so remarkable, and displayed so strikingly the charac- 
 teristics of the monastic warrior, that we can hardly wonder 
 at finding him selected as the grand representative of this 
 especial type of chivalry. His fame was spread by monk as 
 well as by jongleur, since he belonged equally to both.* When 
 the chaplain of Hugh of Avranches, the Conqueror's Earl 
 of Chester, was instructing the knights and soldiers who 
 thronged his master's castles in the deeds of the warriors of 
 the Old Testament, and of their later Christian imitators, 
 George and Demetrius, Theodore and Sebastian, Maurice and 
 Eustace, he used also to add something concerning the ' holy 
 athlete' William, to whom the Emperor Charles had be- 
 queathed his noble sword ' Joyeuse.' Ordericus Vitalis, who 
 records this, also teUs us that although many jongleur songs 
 existed on the same subject, ' the authentic relation ' of the 
 monks was to be preferred, from which he has himself com- 
 piled the short life of St. William, inserted in his history. 
 
 The incidental notice thus afforded us by Ordericus as to 
 the character of the sermons in Earl Hugh's chapels, is a 
 curious illustration of the manner in which, from an unex- 
 
 * In the romances, his religious character is supported by long 
 prayers — each a summary of bibKcal history, — which he recites before 
 every great battle. 
 
26 CABOLINGIAN EOMANCB. 
 
 pected quarter, the ideal chivalry of romance was brought to 
 bear on that of actual life. Earl Hugh's chaplain no doubt 
 handled the matter somewhat differently from Ad^nes, the 
 ' King of the Minstrels/ or from Turold, the ' maker ' of the 
 Eoncevaux Chanson. But the groundwork of both monk and 
 trouvere was the same; and the effect of the latter's romances 
 —bolder, more varied, more brightly coloured — ^must have 
 been at least as powerful as that of the soberer teaching of 
 the Churchman. If we would thoroughly understand how 
 far the tales of ' haute emprise,' the ' Lays ' of Roland and of 
 William were really calculated to affect an audience in re- 
 cital, we must forget the well-printed volumes from which we 
 now read them at our firesides ; we must even dismiss the 
 original dusky manuscript, with its borders - of griffins and 
 strawberry-blossoms, and its capitals of burnished gold and 
 vermeil. In their stead, call up the great hall of some Nor- 
 man 'fert^,' whose smoke-stained walls are bristling with 
 hawberks and lances, dinted in many a fray, and reddened 
 on many a battle-field. All the ' following ' of the baron is 
 there assembled. Near the chief himself, and on the dais, sits 
 the jongleur, who has claimed shelter for the night, and who 
 is declaiming to his harp the old song of Eoncevaux. See 
 the flushed brows and the kindling eyes of his listeners — see 
 how each sword-hilt is half-unconsciously grasped — and listen 
 to that fierce shout, stirring the banners on the walls, the 
 ' Aoi ! ' with which the minstrel concludes his ' branche ' 
 before he sets down his harp, and drains his horn of mead 
 or spiced piment. Or take another scene — under the 
 great plane-tree below the walls of some fortalice in 
 Gascony or Acquitaine. The minstrel is telling the same 
 old tale ; and far off in the distance rise those very mount- 
 ain passes where his scene is laid — or it may be, nearer at 
 hand. 
 
THE JONGLEUB. 27 
 
 The splendour of the setting sun 
 Streams on thy mirrored wave, G-aronne, 
 And Blaye's empurpled shore. 
 
 Bkye — ^where Roland himself is resting, with his sword beside 
 him and his horn at his feet. But whether in the 'worm-eaten 
 hold ' of the Norman baron, or beneath the glowing sky of the 
 south, the same spell is in the strain, the same magic in the 
 singer. His song is alive; and if it teUs of deeds many hun- 
 dred years old, its spirit is that of the present hour — of those 
 who are at this moment listening to it. Roland is dead, and 
 all his peers ; but there are brave knights stiU in the world 
 and honour is still to be won. The children of Mahoun and 
 Termagaunt are stiU there beyond the mountains, and the 
 Saracen dogs are still polluting the soil of the holiest of 
 lands. 'Aoi I - shout the knights. ' For France and for Saint 
 Denys ! We will throw in our lots with Roland — we will fall 
 with our faces towards the Moors — and St. Michael aid us in 
 our extremity ! ' 
 
 The extreme warlike excitement which these romances 
 were calculated to produce cannot for an instant be doubted. 
 Urban II. and St. Bernard must have found them excellent 
 coadjutors. But, in their later forms at least, they taught 
 more than this; and it is not a Httle interesting to trace the 
 gradual addition of nobler qualities to the ^^ strength of, 
 Samson ' — ^the great distinction of a rude age, — on which the 
 earlier songs for the most part dwell. To this addition the 
 Churchmen greatly contributed ; until, indeed, their ideal of 
 the Christian knight rose far beyond any actual illustration 
 which can be produced from the stories of the trouv^res. 
 Such, for instance, is the speech which the Canon of Tournay 
 has placed in the mouth of Charles the Great — a lament over 
 his nephew Roland.* The excellences, in short, which at 
 
 * Ckron. of PhiUppe Mouskes, edited by M. de Keiffenberg, t. i. 
 p. 330. 
 
28 CAEOLINGIAN EOMANCE. 
 
 last came to be showered on Roland and his peers were so 
 great, and as the age of the Crusades advanced, the manner of 
 their death appeared so glorious, that they were eventually 
 raised to aU the dignity, and surrounded by aU the emblems, 
 of actual saints of the Church. In one of the magnificent 
 stained windows of the Cathedral of Chartres, Roland, his 
 head encircled with the saintly nimbus, is represented in the 
 act of cleaving the ' sardine-stone ' with Durendal, whilst the 
 Divine Hand, in the ancient Byzantine manner, is seen 
 extended to him from the clouds. The lives of St. Roland 
 and his companions were inserted in monastic hagiographies, 
 side by side with those of the saints of the cloister. Among 
 the oaks and cork-trees scattered over the opening of the 
 pass of Eoncevaux, a small convent was founded, in the 
 church of which the crowd of pilgrims, on their way to Com- 
 postella, paid due homage to the memory of the douze pairs. 
 The great ' pantoufles ' (archiepiscopal sandals ?) of Turpin 
 were shown there ; and from the walls were hung the heavy 
 chains of iron which had guarded the position of the Moorish 
 Caliph at the famous battle of Navas de Tolosa, when the 
 white horse of Santiago himself had led on the Christians to 
 their victory. Within this chapel the Black Prince must 
 have knelt and thought of Roland, when, together with Don 
 Pedro, he passed through these ' straytes and perylous pas- 
 sages under the mountaynes,' as Froissart calls them, before 
 the fight of Navarrete. The convent itself was not un- 
 honoured in England ; where the cell of St. Mary Rounceval 
 — which stood on the site of Northumberland House, in the 
 Strand — was anciently attached to it. Whether owing to an 
 English desire of connecting our own great romance cycle 
 with this famous spot, or to some more primitive tradition, it 
 was at Montsalvaez (Salvatierra), also on the high road to 
 Compostella, and within a short distance of Roncevaux, that 
 the Sangraal was said to have been preserved in the mys- 
 
TOMBS OF THE DOUZK PAIRS. 29 
 
 terious temple, where Sir Percival, the Koland of King 
 Arthur's company, alone, of all his brethren, was permitted 
 to discover it.* Roncevaux, however, could not boast the 
 actual resting-place of any one of the douze pairs. Charles 
 himself, at the head of his army, sought their bodies, and con- 
 veyed them reverently back into ' douce France ' — ' the best 
 of all the hxindred kingdoms into which God had divided the 
 world.' But even there, so great was the desire to possess 
 their tombs and relics, that scarcely a district of France can 
 be mentioned which did not at some time, or in some 
 manner, claim them. In the church of St. Faro, at Meaux, 
 was long shown the tomb of Ogier, with whose story that of 
 Holger, the champion of the elder Edda, was early con- 
 nected ; and who, as other legends asserted, following the 
 true history of Count WiUiam, closed his career as abbot of 
 the monastery there. His cowled figure, bearing a staff hung 
 with bells, lay stretched at full length above ; whilst round 
 the sides of the tomb were ranged Roland and the other 
 peers, with Charles himself, carrying a branch of lilies for a 
 sceptre. Over the tomb hung an enormous sword and shield, 
 said to have been those with which Ogier, before his death at 
 Roncevaux, in company with John the Priest (Prester John), 
 son of Adgillus, King of Friezeland, had conquered the re- 
 motest regions of Asia, and founded there that mysterious 
 kingdom which afterwards became so famous.f Other legends 
 asserted that he and his brethren were buried at RousiUon, at 
 St. Michael's Mount, or in the Aliscamp, or ' Campi Ehsei,' 
 the great cemetery of Roman Aries, held in especial honour 
 throughout the middle ages, from its contaiaing so many 
 tombs of martyrs who had fallen in combating 
 
 ' Paien et Sarrazin 
 Tur et Persant et felon Bedoin.' 
 
 * Price's Warton (Pref.), p. 82. 
 
 t The tomb is figured in Mabillon, Amuxles Ord. Bened. 
 
30 CAEOLINGIAN EOMANCB. 
 
 It was thought that sometimes, when the thunder broke and 
 the lightning streamed across the plain of the ancient cemetery, 
 the gigantic figures of the ' douze pairs ' could be seen, 
 hovering over the ' fields of their rest,' and leading upward a 
 long train of less distinguished champions. A tradition, how- 
 ever, which never seems to have varied, asserted that Roland, 
 the best and greatest of the company, lay buried at Blaye, on 
 the bank of the Garonne, opposite Bordeaux. There he was 
 placed in a tomb, which, in order to keep up his reputation as 
 a giant, was said to be only as long as his knees, with his 
 sword at his head and his horn at his feet. On the tomb was 
 an inscription composed by Charles the Grreat, his uncle ; and 
 some pieces of armour were preserved in the church which 
 had belonged to Roland himself^ and which Francis the First, 
 before setting out on the fatal expedition to Pavia, is said to 
 have tried on, and to have found exactly fitting to his size. 
 To see this armour and to reverence Roland's tomb, an an- 
 nual pilgrimage was made by all the inhabitants of the dis- 
 trict. Yet Durendal, the sword of swords, the great treasure 
 of the place, had, it was believed, been removed at a very 
 early period from its place beside the head of its master, — if, 
 indeed, it had ever been laid there. The swords of heroes 
 had as great a tendency to multiply as the remains of the 
 most honoured saints, and none was coveted more eagerly 
 than this of Roland. It was shown in nearly as many places 
 as the relics of St. Barbara, or of St. Ursula's virgins ; and 
 each of the exhibitors maintained the authenticity of their 
 own Durendal with equal zeal and courage. At Roc- Ama- 
 dor, a famous place of pilgrimage near Gronrdon in Quergy, 
 it was hung up in the chapel of St. Michael, one of a 
 cluster buUt on either side the steps leading up to a chapel 
 of the Virgin, whence the eye ranges over the long valley 
 below, lying like a narrow green thread between its walls of 
 rock. In passing this place on his way to Roncevaux, Roland, 
 
TOMB AND BBLIOS OP CHARLES. 31 
 
 it was said, had offered to the Virgin a mass of silver equal in 
 weight to Diirendal, and soon after his death his sword was 
 removed here from Blaye.* Another Durendal was exhibited 
 in the Treasury of St. Denys, — and another at Li^ge, — but 
 the most remarkable of all was that which hung at the gate of 
 the castle of Prusa (the modern Brusa), in Anatolia, in the 
 path of the Crusaders from Constantinople, and which was 
 shown by the Turks as that of Roland the ' Saracen,' who 
 had some Frank blood in his veins, as, indeed, had all the 
 Turks, but who was nevertheless one of their own most re- 
 nowned and invincible heroes.t 
 
 Whilst his paladins were thus honoured, Charles himself 
 had been raised more solemnly to his place among the celestial 
 company.} His tomb at Aachen was the sacred, strength- 
 giving spot to which the eyes of the German emperors were 
 turned when fighting their own battles against the Papal 
 Hildebrands and Innocents. Otho the Third had opened it, 
 and had beheld the great emperor — stiU erect on his throne, 
 his face bandaged, and the crown on his head ; and Frederick 
 Barbarossa had hung over it a jewelled crown in token of his 
 reverence. Throughout northern Europe, as in the south, older 
 national traditions became connected with those of King Karl 
 and his peers. The mystic banner, which, as the legends of 
 Friezeland asserted, had been given by the patriarch Shem to 
 Friso, was said to have assisted Charles the Great in his con- 
 quest of Rome, and then to have been hung up in the church 
 of Harlingen, where it was long shown.§ The ' Foresters of 
 Flanders ' claimed kindred with Roland ; and his armour, 
 including another Durendal, was worn by Jean, Sire de 
 
 * Bulleiin Monmnental, t. xix. (1853.) 
 
 t Heerken's Eginha/rd, ap. De Reiffenberg's Ph. Mouskes. For the 
 Turkish claim to a Frank origin, see Baudri of Dole. (Bib. des 
 Oroisades, i. 23.) Prusa was the first seat of the Ottoman sultans. 
 
 t The office for his festival was taken from Turpin. (Mart, and 
 Durand. Voy. LiU. p. 202.) § Kempius, Frisia, p. 188. 
 
32 CABOLINGIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 Gavre, in 1297, at the battle of Bulscainp.* Further north, 
 ' Holger Danske ' took his place among the paladins, as we 
 have already seen. Everywhere the ancient figures of Justice 
 with her scales, or of the goddess Fortune, set up in the 
 public places of the towns, were connected with the name of 
 Roland, as were the great bells and ward horns which 
 sounded in time of need from the summits of the watch- 
 towers. In the Ardennes and the deep woods of Northern 
 France, the great Charles took the place of Odin, and be- 
 came lord of the 'wiithend heer' — the wild host of the 
 dead. Roland, his chief hero, follows him when he sweeps 
 along at midnight under the boughs, as Dunar followed Odin.t 
 There was no part of Europe, however remote or uncivilized, 
 into which the Carohngian romances did not penetrate. 
 Even in Iceland the sagas of Nial and of Egils were occa- 
 sionally varied by those of King Karl and his ' cappar ' ; and 
 in return for Salvaez in the Pyrenees, Wales had the 
 ' Ystoria Carlymaen ' to insert among her stories of Brut and 
 of Arthur. Carved ornaments in churches and monasteries, 
 ivory caskets and mirrors, paintings on the walls of royal 
 palaces and of ladies' bowers, aU contributed to spread their 
 reputation. The great emperor appears under the most un- 
 looked-for forms and in the most unexpected situations — never 
 more startlingly than as ' the club's black tyrant,' 
 
 Who of all monarch* only grasps the globe, — 
 and who, as neither Belinda nor Sir Plume, when engaged in 
 all the mysteries of the ' verdant plain,' were the least aware, 
 is no other than King Karl. 
 
 In this manner the names of Charles the Great and of 
 Roland had become widely famous in Italy before passing 
 into new life and repiitation in the verses of Boiardo and 
 Ariosto. Here, however, we must not foUow them; nor must 
 
 * Kervyn de Lettenhove. H. de Flcmdre, ii. 57. 
 t Grimm, D. Mythol. 
 
LAST CHANGES. 33 
 
 we venture into that later period, when the metrical romances 
 had been exchanged for massive prose folios, still pored over 
 by the Egmonts and the Montmorencis, and when the older 
 chivalry, changing with the changing age, whilst it displayed 
 additional splendour, was nevertheless dying out in its ancient 
 forms, to reappear in that manner and after those fashions 
 which it has ever since more or less retained, and of which 
 the influences, it may be hoped, ' mingling with and softened 
 by purer religion, will be the imperishable heirloom of social 
 man.'* 
 
 *-Milman'8 Lat.-Christ. iii 256. 
 
II. 
 
 SACRED TEEES MD FLOWERS.* 
 
 * TT was never a merry world,' said the learned Selden, 
 -*- ' since ihe fairies left off dancing, and the parsons left 
 off conjuring.' What amoimt of merriness might return to us 
 if the parsons could he persuaded to resume their conjuring 
 caps, we can hardly foresee ; but we are sure there are a 
 thousand good reasons for regretting the fairies. To say 
 nothing of such substantial comforters as fairy aunts and 
 godmothers' — ^who are but distant cousins of the true small 
 people — ^how much poetry has left the world since Oberon 
 and Titania 
 
 ' Danced full oft in many a grene mead,' 
 
 and the cowslips were the pensioners of the fairy queen ! In 
 those days there was scarcely a flower in wood or on river 
 bank but had its mysterious connection with the elfin world, 
 or with a spirit-land yet more antique and shadowy. Hardly 
 a tree in the greenwood — from the great oak of Thor to the 
 elder with its white blossoms glimmering through the shade — 
 but had its wild legends, its marvellous properties, and some- 
 times its special ghostly protector. Now-a-days, though the 
 flowers are as bright, and the greenwood, though scarcely as 
 wide-spreading, is yet as pleasant and as varied as ever, the 
 elf is but rarely seen under the blossoms, and even the 
 memory and the honours of Boscobel are fading away from 
 the royal oak. The belief, which in those old days gave hfe 
 t mj rland and forest, has disappeared with Oberon and 
 * QuwrterVy Bedew, July, 1863. 
 
EAELIEST TBEE-WOESHIP. 35 
 
 Titania. Yet, ' mansit odor.' Like Aubrey's Cirencester 
 ghost, the small people have not vanished from middle earth 
 vifithout leaving a ' curious perfume ' behind them ; and it 
 is still possible to trace their ancient presence, not only by 
 the dark rings on the sward, but by the mark set by them on 
 many a plant amd flower, sometimes in the names which still 
 cling to them, and sometimes in the shape of lingering folk- 
 lore and tradition. In this way 
 
 ' The flower-inwoven mantle of the earth ' 
 
 has become a sort of palimpsest — an illuminated page on which 
 the signs of many different ages lie half-concealed, one above 
 another. Underneath the characters of the fairies lie those of 
 the great old Northern deities — Woden, and Thor, and Freya ; 
 and deeper still, those of the more ancient world into which 
 they intruded — the world of Pseon, the physician of Olympus, 
 who bestowed his name on the peony ; and of Helen of Troy, 
 whose virtues, if not her beauty, are commemorated in the 
 helenium or elecampane, ' of which herbe,' says old Gerarde, 
 ' she had her hands full when she was carried off.' The 
 deciphering of these overlying characters, if not always an 
 easy, is for the most part a pleasant task, and one that leads 
 us to some of the most famous of the world's centres, and 
 into many of its most lovely nooks and corners. 
 
 For the origin of the mysterious reverence with which certain 
 trees and flowers were anciently regarded, and of ' tree-wor- 
 ship,' properly so called, we must go back to that primaeval 
 period into which comparative mythology has of late afforded 
 us such remarkable glimpses ; when the earth, to its early 
 inhabitants, seemed not only ' appareled in celestial light,' 
 but when every part of creation seemed to be endowed with a 
 strange and conscious vitality. When rocks and mountains^ 
 the most apparently lifeless and unchanging of the world's 
 features, were thus regarded and were personified in common 
 
36 SACRED TREES AND FLOWERS. 
 
 language, it would have been wonderful if its more lifelike — 
 the great rivers that fertilised it, and the trees, with their 
 changing growth and waving branches, that clothed it — 
 should have been disregarded and unhonoured. Accordingly, 
 sacred rivers and sacred trees appear in the very earliest 
 mythologies which have beeli recovered, and linger among the 
 last vestiges of heathenism, long after the advent of a purer 
 creed. Either as direct objects of worship, or as forming the 
 temple under whose solemn shadow other and remoter deities 
 might be adored, there is no part of the world in which trees 
 have not been regarded with especial reverence : — 
 
 ' In such green palaces the first kings reigned ; 
 Slept in their shade, and angels entertained. 
 With such old counsellors they did advise, 
 And by frequenting sacred shades, grew wise.' 
 
 Paradise itself, says Evelyn, was but a kind of ' nemorous i 
 temple or sacred grove,' planted by Grod Himself, and given to 
 man ' tanquam prime sacerdoti ' ; and he goes on to suggest 
 that the groves which the patriarchs are recorded to have 
 planted ia different parts of Palestine, may have been 
 memorials of that first tree-shaded paradise from which Adam 
 was expelled. 
 
 How far the religious systems of the great nations of antiquity 
 were affected by the record of the Creation and Fall preserved 
 in the opening chapters of Grenesis, it is not perhaps possible 
 to determine. There are certain points of resemblance which 
 are at least remarkable, but which we may assign, if we 
 please, either to iadependent tradition, or to a natural develop- 
 ment from the mythology of the earliest or primaeval period. 
 The Trees of Life and of Knowledge are at once suggested 
 by the mysterious sacred tree which appears in the most 
 ancient sculptures and paintings of Egypt and Assyria, and 
 in those of the remoter East. In the . symbolism of these 
 nations the sacred tree sometimes figures as a type of the 
 
THE DATE-PALM. 37 
 
 universe, and represents the whole system of created tilings, 
 but more frequently as a ' tree of life,' by whose fruit the 
 votaries of the gods are nourished with divine strength, and 
 are prepared for the joys of immortality. The most ancient 
 types of this mystical tree of life are the date-palm, the %, 
 and the pine, or cedar. Of these, the earliest of which any 
 representation occurs is the palm — the true date-palm of the 
 valley of the Nile and of the great alluvial plain of ancient 
 Babylonia — a tree which is exceeded in size and dignity by 
 many of its congeners, but which is spread over at least two 
 of the great centres of ancient civilisation, and which, besides 
 its great importance as a food-producer, has a special beauty 
 of its own when the clusters of dates are hanging in golden 
 ripeness under its coronal of dark-green leaves. It is figured 
 as a tree of hfe on an Egyptian sepulchral tablet, certainly 
 older than the 15th century B.C., and now preserved in the 
 Museum at Berlin. Two arms issue from the top of the tree, 
 one of which presents a tray of dates to the deceased, who 
 stands in front, whilst the other gives him water, ' the water 
 of life.' The arms are those of the goddess Nepte, who 
 appears at fall length in other and later representations.' In 
 another scene, figured by Rosellini, where several generations 
 of a distinguished family are receiving nourishment from the 
 tree of life, one of the fig-trees is the type selected — ^the Ficus 
 sycamorus — the sycamore-tree of Scripture. As in the for- 
 mer example, the goddess rises from the top of the tree, with a 
 tray of figs in one hand, and pouring a stream of water from 
 a vase held in the other.* Another species of fig, the peepul 
 {Ficus religiosa), is the sacred tree of India, and is reverenced 
 alike by Brahmans and by Buddhists. Under it Vishnu was 
 bom ; and when Brahma appointed the various monarchs of 
 
 * For these illustrations, and for one or two which foUow, see a 
 paper by Dr. Barlow on the ' Tree of Life,' in the Journal of Sacred 
 Literature for October, 3862. 
 
38 SACEED TEEES AND FLOWEES. 
 
 beasts, of birds, and of plants, all of whom were ' instruments 
 for tbe preservation of the world,' the holy fig-tree became the 
 sovereign of the trees. Perhaps the oldest historical tree in 
 the world is one of these figs. The ' Victorious, Illustrious, 
 Supreme Lord, the sacred Bo tree ' of Anarajapoora in 
 Ceylon, was, as can certainly be shown, planted 288 years 
 B.C., and is now therefore 2160 years old. It was reared 
 from a branch sent to Ceylon from* Magadha, which 
 miraculously severed itself from what was held to be the 
 identical fig-tree under which Gotama Buddha was reclining 
 when he underwent his apotheosis. Kings have dedicated 
 their dominions to it ; and from the very beginning this 
 wonderful tree has been religiously guarded, and protected by 
 a stone enclosure. Its present aspect, says Sir Emerson 
 Tennent, suggests the idea of extreme antiquity, and many 
 of its branches have been protected by rude pillars of 
 masonry, themselves of great age.* The sacred tree which 
 appears so constantly in Assyrian sculpture is apparently a tra- 
 ditional form of the date-pahn ; but the leaves which terminate 
 its branches are sometimes replaced by cones, either of the 
 pine or cedar, but probably of the former, since one species 
 of pinus grows to a great size in the . Assyrian highlands, 
 whilst the deodar — which, from its stately growth and from 
 the reverence paid to it in Northern India, where its name 
 signifies the ' tree of the gods,' we are at first inclined to look 
 for — ■ does not extend westward beyond the skirts of the 
 Himalay^h. Similar cones are frequently placed in the 
 hands of Assyrian priests, and it is probably the same fir — at 
 all events, the cones are the same — which is introduced in a 
 solemn procession on the basement of the grand colonnade at 
 Persepolis. 
 
 For the choice of two of these trees — the palm and the fig — 
 it is easy to account. Both rank and have always ranked 
 * Tennent's Ceylon, ii., pp. 613-619. 
 
THE DATE-PALM. 39 
 
 among the most important food-producers of the East, and 
 it would have been impossible to find more satisfactory- 
 types of the mystical tree of life, whose fruit imparted 
 strength and wisdom. Honour,' said the Prophet of 
 Islam, ' your paternal aunt, the date-palm ; for she was 
 created in paradise, of the same earth from which Adam 
 was made.' ' Adam,' says a later Mohammedan tradition, 
 ' was "^permitted to bring with him out of paradise three 
 things — ^the myrtle, which is the chief of sweet-scented 
 flowers in the world ; an ear of wheat, the chief of all kinds 
 of food ; and dates, the chief of all the fruits of this world. 
 The dates were, mysteriously conveyed to the Hejdz ; from 
 them all the date-palms in the world have sprung ; and 
 Allah has decreed them all to the true believers, who have 
 conquered all the countries in which they are found.'* With 
 such a legend in proof of the value set on the date-palm, we 
 need hardly suppose it to have been borrowed as a sacred 
 symbol by one country from another, nor trace Egyptian 
 influence in the golden palm-trees of Solomon's temple. Both 
 Jews and Arabs regarded the tree as eminently mysterious, 
 and as possessing several properties that rendered it an 
 emblem of a human being. If the head be cut oflf, it dies ; 
 if a branch, another does not grow in its place. Much was to 
 be learnt moreover concerning ithings both present and future 
 from certain mysterious movements of its leaves on a windless 
 day ; and Abraham, say the Rabbins, was well skilled in this 
 ' language of the palms.'f The palm is now rarely found on 
 the high land of Palestine ; but it grows and has always 
 grown in abundance on the great maritime plain, whence, 
 ' at least in recent times, came the branches which dis- 
 tinguished the pilgrims of Palestine from those of Rome, 
 ComposteUa, and Canterbury, by the name of Palmer.' J Its 
 
 * Es-Suyootee, quoted by Lane, t Celsius, Hierobotamcon, ii. 449. 
 X Stanley, Siiim and Palestine, p. 145. 
 
40 SACBED TREES AND FLOWEES. 
 
 \erj rarity, however, in the MH-country, must have given a 
 f alue and interest to the pahn, wherever it was found there. 
 It is one of the scriptural types of a righteous man ; and 
 it has been suggested that there is a reference to the palm — 
 which was popularly behoved to put forth a shoot every 
 month, and hence to become, at the close of the year, a 
 symbol of it — in St. John's description of the Tree of Life in 
 the midst of the Heavenly Jerusalem, ' which bare twelve 
 manner of fruits, and yielded her fruit every month.' * Such 
 an allusion, indeed, appears to have been recognised at a 
 very early period, and the Tree of Life is represented by a 
 date-palm on some of the earliest mosaics which line the apses 
 of Roman basilicas. It thus appears in the church of SS. 
 Cosmas and Damian {circa a.d. 526), vrith the phoenix, a 
 most ancient type of our Lord, on its summit. In the famous 
 mosaic in the oratory adjoining 8. Griovanni Laterano {circa 
 642), the palm, with the Almighty Father and the Son on 
 either side of it, rises from the centre of an enclosure, guarded 
 by an angel with a drawn sword. Thus the palm-branch of 
 the Christian martyr was not only an emblem of victory 
 adopted from the weU-known heathen use of it, but typified 
 stiU more strikingly his connection with the Tree of Divine 
 Life, ' whose leaves were for the healing of the nations.' t 
 
 * Rev. xxii. 2. 
 
 t Among the Indians of the Orinooko, the Moriche pahn (Mcmritia 
 flexuosa) is held sacred ; and the Christian missionaries named it 
 the ' Tree qf Life.' The Tamanacs say that a man and woman, the 
 sole survivors of a great deluge, oast behind them over their heads the 
 fruits of the Moriche palm, and saw the seeds in it produce men 
 and women who repeopled the earth. (Kingsley's ' At Last,' i. p. 304)- 
 Canon Ejngsley suggests (ii. 271) that the banana, a cousin of the 
 pahn, may have been a sacred tree in geological periods of unknown 
 antiquity. 'It is wild nowhere now on earth, it stands alone and 
 unique in the vegetable kingdom, with distant cousins, but no brother 
 kinds. It has been cultivated so long that though it flowers and 
 fruits, it seldom or never seeds, and is propagated entirely by cuttings. 
 . . The only spots in which it seeds regularly are the Andaman Islands, 
 
THE PALM IN EUEOPB. 41 
 
 It. is not until after the first Crusade that the palm-leaf, then 
 brought home in abundance, appears in the churches of 
 Northern Europe under a form which enables us to recognise 
 it with anything like certainty among the sculptured foliage 
 enwreathing their capitals. There is reason to believe, 
 however, that the date-palm, under one of its most ancient 
 mystical forms, does appear in many French churches of a 
 much earlier period ; and that the sacred tree which figured 
 so constantly on the walls of the vast palaces of Sennacherib 
 and Esarhaddon, is to be recognised, slightly, if at aU, 
 changed, among the decorations of churches whose builders 
 little suspected the meaning and the antiquity of the emblem 
 they were adopting. The probable history of its introduction 
 is sufficiently curious. During the early Merovingian period 
 an extensive commercial intercourse was kept up between 
 Gaul and the eastern shores of the Mediterranean, Syrian 
 merchants established themselves in Gaul ; and, judging from 
 the manner in which they are mentioned by Gregory of 
 Tours, must, with their followers, have ranked among the 
 most remarkable of the strangely-mixed races which then 
 met and jostled in the streets of the larger Gallic cities. One 
 of tliese merchants, at least, was a man of sufficient wealth 
 and importance to purchase for himself the bishopric of Paris.* 
 
 in the Bay of Bengal. . . . Are the Andaman Islands its original home ? 
 or rather, was its original home that great southern continent of which 
 the Andamans are perhaps a remnant 1 Does not this fact, as well as 
 the broader fact that diflferent varieties of the plantain and the banana 
 girdle the earth round at the Tropics, and have girdled it as long as 
 records go back, hint at a time when there was a Tropic continent or 
 archipelago round the whole equator, and at a civilization and a horti- 
 culture compared to which those of old Egypt are upstarts of yesterday ? ' 
 * Greg. Turon. H. Eccles: ix. 26. On the death of Bagnemodus, 
 Bishop of Paris, ' Eusebius, quidam negotiator, genere Syrus, datis 
 multis muneribus, in locum ejus subrogatus est. Isque, accepto 
 episcopatu, omnem scholam decessoris sui abjiciens, Syros de genere 
 suo ecclesiasticse domui ministros statuit.' See also L. vi., ch. 6 ; and 
 L. vii., chs. 29 and 31. ' 
 
42 SACKED TEEES AND FLOWEES. 
 
 All of them were Christians ; and, among other merchandise, 
 they imported from the East the relics of saints, eagerly 
 sought after by the newly-converted Franks and Bur- 
 gundians ; wine from Gaza and Ascalon, to be used for the 
 holy Eucharist ; roots, such as were eaten by the solitaries of 
 the Egyptian deserts, — which formed the only food of certain 
 ' inclusi ' (true recluses walled up in lonely towers), whose 
 story is told by Gregory, — and which were also sought after 
 by some of the severer monks ; and the rich silken tissues 
 of the East, to be shaped into cope or chasuble for the 
 service of the altar. Some of these vestments are still pre- 
 served in the sacristies of churches, mainly in the South of 
 France. Their origin is at once evident ; and on more than 
 one of them — such is the unchanging spirit of the East — the 
 emblems which figure so largely in Assyrian palaces, and which 
 are seen also on the robes of personages represented on their 
 walls, are reproduced with but slender variation. Among them 
 occurs the sacred tree, with its conventional leaves and flowers. 
 These tissues, it is probable, were woven in the looms of Bagh- 
 dad or Bussora, where the ancient typical forms may have been 
 longer preserved than elsewhere.* Their singularity, and their 
 beauty, as set forth by the gold and rich colours of the brocade, 
 seem to have greatly struck the Roman and Franco-Roman 
 artists of Gaul. They copied them in the sculpture of their 
 churches ; and according to some of the most eminent French 
 antiquaries, it is the mystical tree of Assyria between its 
 guardian lions which is represented on the tympana of many 
 church portals of various dates, but all of early character.! 
 
 * ' The Zoroastrian Homa or Sacred Tree was preserved by the 
 Persians, almost as represented on the Assyrian monuments, until the 
 Arab invasion.' — Layard, Nmeveh, ii. 472. 
 
 t For some remarks on this subject, see the 'Bulletin Monumental,' 
 edited by M. de Caumont, vol. 18, pp. 489-494. Some illustrations 
 are there given, including tympana from the churches of Marigny and 
 of Colleville, both in the Department of Calvados. 
 
THE PINE AND CEDAE, 43 
 
 The form of the tree varies; and the lions are sometimes 
 replaced by dragons or winged monsters. But there is 
 always sufficient resemblance to trace the general design ; 
 and it is not perhaps impossible that some of the grotesque 
 carvings on churches built in England during the early 
 Norman period may have had a similar origin. The subject 
 is at least a curious one, and deserves a careful examination 
 at the hands of archaeologists. 
 
 The third of these most ancient sacred trees — the pine or 
 cedar — ^is of a different type, and represents a distinct class of 
 ideas. The lightest and most graceful of the fir tribe have 
 a certain character of strength and endurance ; and the pines 
 which cover the highlands of Upper Assyria and of Persia, 
 though they nowhere attain to the gigantic dimensions of the 
 Himalayan deodars, must have contrasted strongly with the 
 date-palms and tamarisks that form the principal growth of 
 the alluvial district. The whole tribe, in effect, possesses 
 something of the character which attains its highest develop- 
 ment in those venerable cedars of Lebanon, which are perhaps 
 the most solemnly impressive trees in the world. The forms 
 of these giants — now about twelve in number — are, says 
 Dean Stanley, — 
 
 ' Such as must always have impressed the imagination of those who 
 saw them. Their massive trunks, clothed with a scaly texture, almost 
 like the skin of iving animals, and contorted with all the multiform 
 irregularities of age, may well have suggested those ideas of regal, 
 almost divine strength and solidity which the Sacred writers ascribe 
 to them. They stand at the apex, so to say, of the vegetable world-. 
 "From the cedar- tree that is in Lebanon" downward, extends the 
 knowledge of Solomon. "To the cedars of Lebanon" upwards, reaches 
 the destruction of the trees from the burning bramble of Jotham. The 
 intermarriage of the inferior plants with the cedar is the most incon- 
 ceivable of all presumption. The shivering of their rock-Uke stems 
 by the thunderbolt is like the shaking of the solid mountain itself.' * 
 
 The leaves of the date-palm were represented in Europe 
 
 * Sermmcs m the East, p. 216. 
 
44 SACKED TEEES AND FLO WEBS. 
 
 by the light ' catkins ' of the willow, still frequenrly called 
 ' palms,' as in the monastic verse — '■ 
 
 ' Albesoit palmae coma ; ramus ejus osanna 
 Audit, Christicola vociferante viro ; ' 
 
 but this was a substitution of mediaeval times, when some 
 representative of the Eastern tree was required for the 
 churchyard processions of Palm Sunday ; and the golden 
 willow buds offered themselves at precisely the right season. 
 It is possible that the cedar had its Western representative 
 at a much earlier period. Many of its characteristics — ^its 
 dignity, especially, and its strength — are, among the trees of 
 Europe, most conspicuous in the oak. It is true, indeed, 
 that at a very remote period — so remote that it can only be 
 approximately measured by the geological changes of the 
 post-tertiary aera — much of the soil of this continent was 
 covered with forests composed exclusively of fir-trees, which 
 were replaced, first by a vegetation of oaks, and afterwards 
 by one of beech-trees. The occurrence of such a series of 
 changes in Denmark has been proved by Sir Charles LyeU, 
 in his volume on the ' Antiquity of Man,' and is remarkably 
 borne out by certain changes of signification in the most 
 ancient Aryan names for the fir and the oak.* The pine 
 
 * It is certain that human inhabitants existed in these early fir- woods, 
 which were synchronous with a portion of the ' age of stone.' That 
 they were of Aryan descent is not so clear ; though no other hypo- 
 thesis accounts so satisfactorily for the fact that the same word was 
 used by different Aryan races to signify both fir and oak. Fir, the 
 Anglo-Saxon furh, is identical with the Latin quercus ; just as five, 
 A.S.fif, is quinque, — the changes being in accordance with Grimm's 
 Law. Foraha, old H. German, and Foh/re, modem German, both 
 signify 6i=pirms sylvestris. But the Lombard form of the same word, 
 fereha, is mentioned in the Laws of Rothar as a name of the oak — 
 (roborem aut quercum quod est fereha). These facts have been pointed 
 out by Professor Max Miiller, who suggests that certain Aryan tribes, 
 all speaking dialects of one and the same language, came to settle in 
 Europe during the fir period, — when they would have known this tree 
 only, — and afterwards witnessed the change to the oak period, giving 
 
THE OAK. 45 
 
 forests of that primaeval period may well have been solemn 
 and gigantic, worthy fosterers of the religion and the ima- 
 gination that were bursting into life beneath their roof of 
 shade. But if they were the earliest Western representatives 
 of the king of trees, the attributes which were first assigned 
 to them passed afterwards to the oak, and finally rested there. 
 It is the oak which, like the cedar in the East, is the repre- 
 sentative of supernatural strength and power. 'Quercus 
 Jovi placuit.' Eveiywhere the oak — which, like the cedar, 
 attracts the lightning, and is frequently splintered by it — is 
 the tree of the Thunder-G-od. The oaks of Zeus belted his 
 oracle at Dodona. In the North the oak was under the 
 special protection of Thunor or Thor, the hammer-wieldino- 
 God, whose name is still retained in the word ' thunder.' 
 With the exception, perhaps, of the ash, there is no European 
 tree which can at all compete with the oak either in the 
 extent of veneration which has been assigned to it, or in the 
 dignity of its ancient traditions. Between the oak and the 
 ash, indeed, — ^both ' patricians ' of the greenwood, — a species 
 of rivalry for the pre-eminence has been maintained from a 
 very early period to the present, when, if more serious omens 
 are no longer afforded by them, it is stUl possible, say the 
 learned in weather signs, to predict much from the tree 
 which first unfolds her leaves : — 
 
 ' If the oak's before the ash, 
 Then you may expect a splash ; 
 But if the ash is 'iore the oak, 
 Then you must beware a soak.' 
 
 The oak, however, may fairly claim precedence here, not 
 only as having been the great tree of Britain in her early 
 
 the name to the latter tree which they had at first used for the fir. 
 Professor Miiller supplies many analogies, especially from the names 
 of metals ; and admitting that many objections may be urged against 
 his hypothesis, he claims for it an impartial examination. — Lectures on 
 the Science of Language, 2nd Series : Appendix to Lect. V. 
 
46 SACEED TREES AND FLOWEES. 
 
 days, but as affording in its own old age a more venerable image 
 of antiquity than any one of its forest brethren. There is, 
 perhaps, nothing in the world — ^not even the ' worm-eaten ' 
 castle hold imder whose walls it may stand — ^that more com- 
 pletely carries back the mind to long past ages than such an 
 oak tree ; gnarled, shattered, and storm-beaten, the sward 
 about its roots strewn with hoary fragments brought down 
 by strong winds and wintry snows, yet still wearing its 
 crown of green leaves, and still, year after year, dropping 
 acorns among the fern at its feet. Such are the grand old 
 oaks of Hamilton, — 
 
 ' Whose limbs a thousand years have wome,' 
 
 relics of the forest under the shade of whose melancholy 
 boughs, says the tradition, Merlin dwelt and prophesied. 
 Wandering at dusk among the low, tower-like trunks of 
 these trees, that are scattered irregularly over a space of 
 level ground, surrounded on all sides by the deeper wood, 
 from which the white oxen occasionally emerge into the 
 twilight, it is the present, far. more than the past, that be- 
 comes dim and spectral ; and if ancient Merlin, with his 
 grey beard and his enchanter's staff, were on such an occa- 
 sion to present himself, we should scarcely feel more than the 
 very gentlest ' shock of mild surprise.' Still more suggestive 
 than the oaks of Hamilton — ^though no doubt owing to their 
 very peculiar character, and to their far wilder situation — are 
 those of Wistman's Wood, on Dartmoor, where, according to 
 a saying of the moormen, you may see ' a thousand oaks a 
 thousand feet high.' The marvel is explained by the size of 
 the trees, which, it is said, do not average more than a sino-le 
 foot in height. But the wood is singular enough without this 
 exaggeration. It hangs on the side of a steep hill above the 
 valley of the "West Dart, covered, like most of the Dartmoor 
 hill-sides, with a wild ruin of granite blocks and fragments 
 
THE OAK. 47 
 
 between which the trees have found their scanty nourishment. 
 It is partly owing to this want of soil, and still more, per- 
 haps, to the mountainous character of the district, that not 
 one of the trees exceeds the height of a tall man. Yet all 
 display the most striking indications of very great age. 
 Their limbs, knotted and contorted into the most fantastic 
 shapes, spread themselves above and between the blocks of 
 granite, many of which rise higher than the trees. The 
 boughs are thickly clothed with dark green and grey mosses, 
 that hang in long beard-like tangles, and add not a little to 
 to the weird look of the strange old wood, which it is difficult 
 to visit, even at mid-day, without a certain ' eerie ' feeling. 
 Its real age is unknown, but it is mentioned in some early 
 documents relating to Dartmoor and more than eight hun- 
 dred concentric rings have been counted in a section from 
 the trunk of one of the larger trees. Wistman's Wood has 
 no traditions of Merlin ; but its name takes us back to a 
 personage yet more mysterious — Woden, the ' Lord of the 
 Waste and the Mountain.' ' Wise,' or ' wish,' was, accord- 
 ,ing to Mr. Kemble, one of the many titles of the great 
 Teutonic deity, and the name is retained in the Devonshire 
 term ' whishtness,' which is used to signify all unearthly 
 creatures and their doings. The spectral pack which hunts 
 over Dartmoor is called the ' wish-hoimds,' and the black 
 ' master ' who follows the chase is, no doubt, the same who 
 has left his mark on Wistman's Wood. 
 
 We are here not carried beyond the traditions of our English 
 ancestors ; but there is no reason why the oaks of Dartmoor 
 shoidd not — some, perhaps, even of those which now exist — 
 have been venerated in earlier days, when the Britons, who 
 have left their traces on almost every hill-side, were undis- 
 puted masters of the district. One of the very few certaiaties 
 about the Druids is their reverence for the oak, and for the 
 mistletoe which grew on it ; and a more remarkable group of 
 
48 SACKED TEEES AND FLOWERS. 
 
 their sacred trees than they may have found at Wistman's 
 Wood can hardly be imagined. The mistletoe, it is true, no 
 longer grows on them ; but it is not in Devonshire only that 
 the mistletoe has deserted the oak. It is now found so rarely 
 on that tree as to have led to the suggestion that we must 
 look for the true mistletoe of the Druids, not in the Viscum 
 album of our own woods and orchards, but in the Loranthus 
 Europcms, an allied parasite, which is frequently found grow- 
 ing on oaks in the South of Europe. The sprays of the 
 Loranthus are longer and its leaves wider than those of our 
 own species, and it is therefore more conspicuous. But 
 although we may allow that the golden bough — 
 
 'Aureus et foliis et lento vimine ramus 
 Junoni inlemse dictus saoer ' 
 
 the ' venerabile donum ' which admitted ^neas to the wonders 
 of the under-world, may have been a tuft of Loranthus, the 
 ' Marentakken ' or ' branch of spectres,' which still in Hol- 
 stein is believed to confer the powers of ghost-seeing on its 
 possessor, is unquestionably the true Viscum — ^the same which 
 hangs in such thick clusters, and so appropriately, in all the 
 orchards about Glastonbury — ^that famous Isle of Avalon, 
 which was very possibly a stronghold of Druidism, and which, 
 according to the ancient tradition, contained the tomb of the 
 great British hero King Arthur. There is no proof that the 
 Loranthus ever grew farther north than at present ; and, on 
 the other hand, the mistletoe figures in the traditions of the 
 Northern nations as well as in those of the Celts. It was a 
 branch of mistletoe which killed Baldur, the ' whitest ' and 
 best of the gods, after Frigga had taken an oath of all created 
 things that they would never hurt him ; except ' one little 
 shoot that groweth east of Valliall, so small and feeble, that 
 she forgot to take its oath.' But the mistletoe, thus forgo<> 
 ten, was put by Loke the destroyer into the hand of the blind 
 Hodr, who flung it at Baldur when all the gods were amusing 
 
THE MISTLETOE. 49 
 
 themselves by pelting Mm with the various creatures which 
 had, sworn to Frigga ; and Baldur fell dead, pierced by the 
 ' feeble ' branch. More than one sword of a Northern cham- 
 pion was named ' Mistilteinn,' after the weapon which had 
 slain the white god. The story affords one of many points of 
 resemblance between the mythology of Northern Europe and 
 those of Persia and the farther East. In the Shah Namgh 
 the hero Asfendiar is represented as invulnerable except by a 
 branch from a tree growing on the remotest shore of the 
 ocean. Desthan, his enemy, found it, hardened it with fire, 
 and killed the hero. Both legends possibly refer to the 
 ' death ' of the sun — ' perishing in his youthful vigour either 
 at the end of a day, struck by the powers of darkness, or at 
 the end of the sunny season, stung by the thorn of winter.'* 
 
 It seems something like a caprice which has excluded the 
 mistletoe as well from the evergreen decorations of our 
 churches at present, as from their ancient sculpture and 
 carvings. We know one instance only of its occurrence. 
 Sprays of mistletoe, with leaf and berry, fill the spandrils of 
 one of the very remarkable tombs in Bristol Cathedral, which 
 were probably designed by some artist-monk in the house- 
 hold of the Berkeleys, whose castle and broad lands are 
 among the chief glories of the West Country, in which the 
 mistletoe is now for the most part found. We do not re- 
 member to have seen it elsewhere, even lurking among the 
 quaint devices of a ' Miserere '; whilst the oak — every portion 
 of which, in the days of Celtic heathenism, was almost as 
 sacred as the mistletoe which grew on it — was one of the 
 principal trees ' studied ' by mediaeval sculptors, when, during 
 the so-called 'Decorated' period, they reproduced leaf and 
 flower with such exquisite beauty and fidelity ; witness the 
 oak-leaves laid into the panels of the Cantelupe shrine at 
 
 * Max Miiller ; ' Comparative Mythology,' in Oxford, Essays for 
 1856. 
 
 4 
 
50 SACEED TEEES AND FLOWEES. 
 
 Hereford, or the twisted sprays of oak, clustered with acorns, 
 which form one of the most graceful corbels in the choir of 
 Exeter Cathedral. Nor was the reverence with which the 
 oak was regarded by any means confined to the Celts. The 
 tree, as we have seen, was dedicated in an especial manner to 
 Thor. St. Boniface, who, in his native Devonshire, must 
 have been well acquainted with the heathen superstitions that 
 were siill in force about the sacred trees and well-springs, 
 waged a sharp war agaimst them during his wanderings in 
 Central Germany. There was a ' Thor's oak ' of enormous 
 size in the country of the Hessians, greatly reverenced by 
 the people, and which, by the advice of some of the Christian 
 converts, St. Boniface determined to cut down. Accord- 
 ingly, ' mentis constantid comfortatus,' he began to hew at the 
 gigantic trunk, whilst the ' heathen folk ' stood round about, 
 prodigal of their curses, but not daring to interfere. The 
 tree had not been half cut through, when, says Willibald, 
 the biographer of Boniface, who was himself present, a super- 
 natural wind shook the great crown of its branches, and it 
 feU with a mighty crash, divided ' quasi superni nutus solor- . 
 tio^ into four equal parts. The heathens, he continues, 
 recognised the miracle, and most of them were converted on 
 the spot. With the wood of the fallen tree St. Boniface 
 built an oratory, which he dedicated in honour of St. Peter.* 
 The destruction of the great Thor's oak was by no means 
 an unwise step. The numerous decrees and canons set forth 
 in various councils, and mentioned in different penitentials, as 
 late as the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, against such as 
 practised witchcraft and did heathen ceremonies under great 
 trees and in- forests, prove how difficult it was to separate the 
 ancient creed from such living memorials of it. Nor does the 
 case seem to have been greatly improved when, as frequently 
 occurred among the Celts, especially in Ireland and Armorica, 
 * Life by WUlibald, oh. 6. 
 
THE OAK. 61 
 
 the tree was re-appropriated by the great saint of the district. 
 The Irish St. Cohnan presided over a famous oak-tree, any 
 fragment of which, kept in the month, effectually warded off 
 death by hanging — an immunity not to be despised in the 
 land of shillelaghs. When St. Cblumba's oak at Kenmare 
 was blown down in a storm, no one dared to touch it, or to 
 apply its wood to ordinary purposes, except a certain tanner, 
 who cured his leather with the bark. With the leather he 
 made himself a pair of shoes ; but the first time he put them 
 on he was struck with leprosy, and remained a leper aU his 
 life.* The trees of saints might nowhere be profaned with 
 impunity. In the cloister at Vreton, in Brittany, was a yew- 
 tree which had sprung from the staff of St. Martin — not the 
 great saint of Tours, but the first abbot of the Armorican 
 monastery. Under its shadow the Breton princes always 
 prayed before entering the church. No one dared to touch 
 a leaf, and even the birds treated the sweet, scarlet berries 
 with respect. Not so a band of Norman pirates, two of whom 
 climbed St. Martin's tree to cut bow-staves from it. Both, of 
 course, fell, and were killed on the spot.f 
 
 It is possible that many of the more famous oak-trees 
 yet standing in England, may date from the days of, 
 at least, Saxon heathendom, and, like trees of the Irish 
 saints, may have been reappropriated after the conver- 
 sion of our ancestors. About some of them ancient super- 
 stitions yet linger, and nearly all are boundary-trees, 
 marking the original limit of shire or of manor. Such was 
 the great ' Shire-oak ' which stood at the meeting-place of 
 York, Nottingham, and Derby, into which three counties it ex- 
 tended its vast shadow. It might not compete with the chest- 
 nut of ' Cento CavaUi ' on Mount Etna ; but the branches of 
 
 * Magnus O'Donnell, Life of St. Columba, ap. Colgan, A. S. Hi- 
 tern, ii. 
 t Vita S. Martini, ap. Mabillon, Acta S.8. ord. Bened. i. p. 371. 
 
52 SACKED TREES AND FLOWEES. 
 
 the Shire-oak could afford shelter to 230 horsemen. Such, 
 too, is the ' Crouch ' oak at Addlestone, in Surrey, under which 
 Wickliffe preached and Queen Elizabeth dined — one of the 
 ancient border-marks of Windsor Forest, whose name, accord- 
 ing to Kemble, refers to the figure of the cross anciently cut 
 upon it. Trees thus marked are constantly referred to as 
 boundaries in Anglo-Saxon charters. The cross withdrew 
 the oak from the dominion of Thor or Odin, and not only 
 afforded help and protection to human beings, but even to 
 some tribes of the elfin world. Such, at least, was the belief 
 in the old land of the Teutons. As a peasant named Hans 
 Krepel was one day at work on a heath near Salzburg, a 
 ' little wild or moss-wifekin ' appeared to him at noontide, and 
 begged that when he left his labour he would cut three 
 crosses on the last tree he felled. He forgot to do so. The 
 next day she appeared again, saying, ' Ah, my man, why did 
 you not cut the three crosses yesterday ? it would have been 
 of use to me and to you. In the evening, and at night, we 
 are often hunted by the wild huntsmen, and are obliged to 
 allow them to worry us, unless we can reach a tree with a 
 cross on it. From thence iihey have no power to move us.' 
 The man answered churlishly, ' Of what use can that be ? 
 how can the crosses help you ? I shall do no such thing to 
 please you, indeed.' Upon this, the ' wifekin ' flew upon 
 him, and squeezed him so hard that he became ill after it ; 
 ' though,' says Praetorius, who teUs the story, ' he was a stout 
 fellow.'* In England it was thought that the oaks them- 
 selves were mysteriously protected. According to a belief 
 fully maintained by the ' gossiping ' Aubrey, and half endorsed 
 by Evelyn in his ' Sylva' — 
 
 ' A strange noise proceeds from a falling oak, so loud as to be heard 
 
 * Prsetorins, Anfh/ropodemus Plutonicws, Magdeburg, 1666 : quoted 
 in Price's Preface to Warton, p. 38. See also Grimm, D. Mvthol 
 p. 881, 
 
THE OAK. 53 
 
 at half a mile distant, as if it were the genius of the oak lamenting.' 
 
 'It has not been unusually observed,' he continues, 'that 
 
 to cut oakwood is unfortunate. There was at Norwood one oak that 
 had mistletoe, a timber tree, which was felled about 1657. Some 
 persons cut this mistletoe for some apothecaries in London, and sold 
 them a quantity for ten shillings each time, and left only one branch 
 remaining for more to sprout out. One fell lame shortly after ; soon 
 after, each of the others lost an eye ; and he that felled the tree, 
 though warned of these misfortunes of the other men, would, not- 
 withstandingj adventure to do it, and shortly after broke his leg ; as 
 -ifTEe Hamadryades had resolved to take an ample revenge for the 
 injury done to their sacred and venerable oak. I cannot omit here 
 taking notice of the great misfortunes in the family of the Earl of 
 Winchelsea, who, at Eastwell, in Kent, felled down a most cvirious 
 grove of oaks, near his own noble seat, and' gave the first blow with 
 his own hands. Shortly after, his Countess died in- her bed sud- 
 denly ; and his eldest son, the Lord Maidstone,- was killed at sea by 
 a cannon-bullet.'* 
 
 Various omens were afforded bj the oak ; the change of 
 
 its leaves from their usual colour gave more than, once, says 
 
 Evelyn, ' fatal premonition of coming^mis&rt-unes during the 
 
 great civil war.' It wag^&e' suiacheantas ' or 'badgp' of the 
 
 Stewarts, and the,Highlanders looked upon its not being an 
 
 evergreen a.s^ti omen of the fate of the Royal house. Yet 
 
 ""theTJakwas a thorough-bred CavaUer, as befitted the king of 
 
 the forest — 
 
 ' Wherein the younger Charles abode 
 
 Till all the paths were dim. 
 And far below the Roundhead rode. 
 And hummed a surly hymn.' 
 
 No oak-cutter's misfortunes will, it is to be hoped, J&ll upon 
 us, because the 29th of May now celebrates with such 
 curtailed ceremony that ' sacred oak,' which, says Evelyn, 
 in the dedication of his 'Sylva' to King Charles, 'you, 
 our 0eo? vKiaeof — Nemorensis Rex — once consecrated with 
 your presence, making it your temple and court too.' 
 
 Thus the stroke of St. Boniface's axe, although it over- 
 threw Thor and sent the parting genius with sighing from his 
 * Aubrey's History of Siirrey. 
 
54 SACBED TEEES AND FLOWEES. 
 
 tree, could not altogether destroy the recollections and 
 superstitions of the ancient creed. Still less have they 
 faded from the other great sacred tree of Northern Europe, 
 the ash. As with the oak, there are traces of an ancient 
 reverence for the ash among Celts as well as Teutons. But 
 the tree is more especially the property of the Scandinavian 
 races. With them the great ash-tree, Yggdrasil, represented 
 the universe. It was the tree of the world, which rose, 
 evergreen and aU glittering with dew, above the hall of 
 the triple Noms — Urdr, Verdandr, and Skuldr — the past, 
 present, and future. Under its three roots were the 
 cold land of Hela, the place of torture ; the land of 
 the Hrim-thyrs, or frost giant^ ; and middle earth, the land 
 of mortal men. An eagle, ' far-seeing and much kenning,' 
 with a hawk perched between his eyes, sits on the top of the 
 tree ; and- Ratatosk, the squirrel, runs up and down the 
 branches, carrying the words of the eagle to Nidhoegg, the 
 worm of the abyss, who lies coiled at the foot. The Norns 
 daily pour water over the tree from their mysterious well, 
 and under its shadow the gods sit ' to give dooms.' It is the 
 'noble' tree — the 'central,' the 'ancient' tree — ^highest and 
 best of aU trees ; yet in spite of all its honours the ash 
 ' drees a heavier vrierd ' than men weet of. Four stags are for 
 ever biting at its highest shoots. In its side it is decaying, 
 and more serpents than it is possible to number spread venom 
 through the fibres of its roots. Under it is hidden the horn 
 Giollr, with which Heimdallr, the warder of the gods, shall 
 rouse the world at the last great conflict. At its sound 
 
 ' Groans the old tree, 
 
 And Loke ia loosed ; 
 Shudders Yggdraail, 
 The great standing ash.'* 
 
 The fire of Surtr will burn the tree at the end ; but it will be 
 * Voh'^a, str. xliii. 
 
YGGDEASIL^ THE -ASH. 65 
 
 renewed again, fair and green, and the gods will once more 
 congregate under its branches. 
 
 Explanations of this piece of Northern mythology have 
 been attempted at great length, and a wonderftd amount of 
 learning has been poured out on the subject. The eagle has 
 been thought to represent heaven, or the air, and Eatatosk, 
 the squirrel, the vapours that float perpetually over the 
 surface of the earth.* But whilst it is sufficiently clear that 
 the tree is a symbol of the universe, its various accompani- 
 ments are by no means easy of interpretation. In the whole, 
 the doomed character of the Northern religion — r'eflecting the 
 sombre skies and the deep gloomy forests under which it was 
 born and nurtured — is strongly apparent. The tree suffers 
 innumerable evils : the whole creation ' groans together ' 
 until its final renovation, after the ' twilight of the gods ' and 
 the great fire of Surtr. YggdrasU (the etymology is so 
 obscure that we will not attempt to explain it) suggests in 
 effect far higher realities than it was meant to symbolise, and 
 we can with difficulty escape the conviction that some of its 
 imagery may have been borrowed from the stores of the 
 remoter East. 
 
 It can hardly have been the mere beauty of the ash which 
 induced our Scandinavian forefathers to adopt it as their mys- 
 terious world-tree, graceful and striking as it is, standing 
 sentinel on the outskirts of ihe wood or overhanging some 
 broken river-bank, the dark lines of its curved branches traced 
 here and there between masses of floating leafage. But the 
 range of the ash extends farther north than that of the oak. 
 It is the chief timber-tree of the forests beyond the Baltic, 
 and its wood was used for many purposes for which the pines 
 and firs of the Northern forests were not available. The long 
 spear-shafts and axe-handles of the heroes of the Sagas were 
 
 * Finn Magnassen, Lexicon Mythol. a. v. Yggdrasil. See also his 
 'Eddalasren.' 
 
56 SACKED TEEES AND FLOWEES. 
 
 made of ash-wood. Their ships also were not unfrequently 
 built of ash ; and it may be either for this reason that Adam 
 of Bremen gives the name of ' ashmen ' to the Vikings of 
 Norway and Denmark, or because, as the prose Edda asserts, 
 the three sons of the giant, of whom Odin was the eldest, made 
 the first man from a block of ash-timber which they found on 
 the sea-shore. The ash, too, like the sycamore, to which Sir 
 Walter Scott has somewhere compared the sturdy endurance of 
 the Scottish character, will grow on higher ground than most 
 other trees, and in such situations affords in itself no bad 
 image of a hardy Northern ' ashman.' Its sprays of foliage 
 are thinner and more curved, and its moss-covered trunk is 
 knotted and twisted, as though it had encountered fierce 
 obstacles in its rising, and had put forth all its strength in the 
 struggle. It was partly from this power of battling with 
 'winter and rough weather,' and partly perhaps from the 
 mysterious feeling with which the old Saxon regarded it, that 
 the ash so often appears as the ' household tree ' of outlying 
 thorpes and granges. Many an ancient steading on the 
 borders of the Devonshire moors, or on the high grounds of 
 Hampshire — the strongholds of Saxon tradition — is thus 
 marked by a group of knotted ash-trees. 
 
 Some such reasons as these may -have led to the adoption of 
 the ash as tibe great sacred tree of the North. Yet it is not 
 easy to pluck out the heart of its mystery, and the descriptions 
 of certain ancient representatives of Yggdrasil do not lessen 
 the difficTilty. The great world-tree under which the gods 
 assembled was, says the Edda, although an ash, an evergreen ; 
 and scattered over Northern Europe were many sacred trees, 
 reverenced as representing Yggdrasil, which are said to have 
 been green summer and winter. Such' a tree, according to 
 the Archbishop of Bremen, stood close to the great temple 
 at Upsal ; and there was a famous tree of the same kind in 
 Dithmarsch, carefully protected by an intrenchment, and 
 
THE ASH. 57 
 
 looked upon as bound up in some mysterious way with the 
 fortunes of the country. "When Dithmarsoh lost her ancient 
 liberty, the tree withered ; but a magpie, one of the chief 
 Northern birds of augury, came and built on it. Her. eggs 
 produced five young ones, perfectly white — an omen that 
 liberty should one day return. These trees may have been 
 either solitary specimens of the Uex, or more probably of the 
 Turkey oak (Q. cerris), the chief oak of Southern Europe — a 
 tree which holds on its leaves so long, that in the North it 
 might well pass for an evergreen. A stiU more remarkable 
 tree, described as an evergreen — that at Eomowe, the old 
 sacred centre of the Prussians — ^was certainly an oak. 
 
 It is somewhat remarkable, considering that the roots of 
 Yggdrasil were half destroyed by the serpents that lay nestled 
 among them, to find the leaves and wood of the ash regarded 
 throughout Northern Europe as a powerful protection from all 
 manner of snakes and ' evil worms.' Among the curious 
 woodcuts which adorn the Roman edition of Olaus Magnus 
 ' de gentibus septentrionalibus,' that illustrating his chapter 
 ' touching the keeping away of serpents from children in 
 harvest time ' represents the children comfortably slung in their 
 cradles from the branches of great ash-trees, whilst their 
 mothers are hard at work in the harvest-field below. Snakes, 
 according to the gossiping old Swede, cannot abide the ash, 
 and wiU not willingly go near it. If a circle be traced with 
 an ashen staff, says a piece of Devonshire folk-lore, round a 
 sleeping viper, the creature wiU be unable to pass beyond 
 it. In such folk-lore as this, or in the ' shrew-ash' described 
 in White's Selborne, it may not be possible to trace Yggdrasil ; 
 but Northern antiquaries insist that the world-tree has had, 
 and has, its direct representatives. They find it, first in the 
 maypole, with its garlands, its streaming ribbons, and its 
 birds'-eggs, now almost as completely a relic of past ages as 
 Yggdrasil itself j and also in the Christmas Tree, which, 
 
58 SACBED TBEES AND FLOWEES. 
 
 according to the learned Finn Magnussen, is descended in. a 
 straight line from the great ash, of all whose accompani- 
 ments — the stags, the eagle, and the squirrel — the ornaments 
 which hang from the branches of the modern tree are 
 memorials. These are weighty questions : but it is quite 
 certain that the recollections of Yggdrasil did not fade away 
 with the introduction of Christianity ; and that they were 
 interwoven in a remarkable manner with some of the mediseval 
 traditions relating to the tree of the cross. Eilif, a Norwegian 
 scald, who, before his conversion, had been a devoted servant 
 of Thor, thus, after he had become a so-called Christian, 
 speaks of Our Lord : — 
 
 ' They say he sitteth on a mount, 
 
 South at the Urdr well ; 
 So the strong King of Rome's gods (angels) 
 Have power without bound.' * 
 
 The Urdr well was that from which the Norns drew water to 
 pour over Yggdrasil ; and on a mount under the tree Thor 
 and his brethren sat 'to give dooms.' Eilif must have 
 been still more than half a heathen ; but his verses show 
 how readily the imagery of the former creed could be 
 adapted after the change to Christianity; and some later 
 mediaeval poems, quoted in Grimm's great work on Teutonic 
 Mythology, prove that the connection with Yggdrasil, sug- 
 gested in Eilif's verses, was long retained. The tree of 
 the cross, says one of these 'singers,' is a noble tree, 
 planted in a garden. Its roots pierce downward to hell ; 
 its top reaches to heaven ; and on its branches, which spread 
 over the world, sit birds that sing without ceasing, f The 
 world-tree of the Ashmen has here become a world-tree 
 with a far deeper significance. It is not clear, however, 
 whether such descriptions as these (which occur also in 
 
 * Finn Magnussen. 
 
 t Grimm, D, Mythol., p. 757. 
 
TBEE OP THE CEOSS. 59 
 
 graver writers*) were meant to be accepted literally. It 
 is more certain that a remarkable legend, of a different 
 kind, was attached to the actual tree of the cross, and was 
 generally believed throughout the middle ages. 
 
 It is unnecessary to discuss in this place the historical truth 
 of the discovery of our Lord's cross by the Empress Helena, 
 said to have been made in the year 326. The great argu- 
 ment against it is the silence of Eusebius, who died about 
 A.D. 338 ; but it is at least certain that a cross, said to have 
 been that of our Lord, was publicly shown and honoured in 
 Jerusalem during the episcopate of St. Cyril (350-386). It 
 was after this time, and probably as a natural result of the 
 interest awakened by the asserted discovery, that the legend 
 which told the history of the tree of the cross gradually took 
 shape I working into itself many older traditions, especially 
 those which had made Hebron and its neighbourhood the 
 chief resting-place of Adam after his expulsion from Para- 
 dise. With slight variations the story occurs in all the great 
 mediaeval legendaries, including the ' Legenda Aurea ' of 
 Jaques de Voraigne. It was told also in verse, by trouv^re 
 and by troubadour ; and formed the subject of many stained 
 windows (it occurs, for example, in one of those which give 
 an especial interest to the Cornish church of St. Neot), and 
 of much aMjient tapestry and wall painting. In its complete 
 shape the legend is as follows : — 
 
 For four hundi-ed and thirty-two years after his expulsion 
 from Paradise, Adam had tilled the ground in the valley of 
 Hebron, when he felt his end approaching, and determined 
 to send his son Seth to the gates of Paradise, to demand from 
 their keeper, ' the angel called Cherubim,' the oil of mercy 
 
 * ' Nam ipsa crux magnum in se jnysterium continet ; cujus positio 
 talis est, ut superior pars ccbIos petat, inferior terrse inhsereat, fixa 
 infemorum ima contingat, latitude autem ejus partes mundi appellat.' 
 From a treatise ' De Divinis Officiis,' quoted by Grimm, p. 757. 
 
60 SACEED TEEES AND FLOWEES. 
 
 which had been promised to Adam when he was driven from 
 the garden. Seth accordingly set forth, finding his way by 
 the footprints of Adam and Eve, upon which no grass had 
 grown since they passed from Paradise to Hebron. The 
 angel, after hearing the message, ordered Seth to look beyond 
 the gate into the garden, and to teU him what he saw. He 
 beheld a place of inexpressible delight and beauty, with the four 
 great rivers proceeding from a fountain in the centre ; and, 
 rising from the edge of the fountain, an enormous tree, with 
 wide-spreading branches, but without either bark or leaves. 
 He was ordered to look a second time, when he saw a serpent 
 twisted round the tree ; and a third time, when the tree had 
 raised itself to heaven, and bore on its summit a child wrapped 
 in glittering vestments. It was this child, said the angel, 
 who would give to Adam the oil of mercy when the due time 
 should come. Meanwhile the angel gave Seth three seeds 
 from the fruit of the tree of which Adam had eaten. These 
 were to be placed in the mouth of Adam before his burial ; 
 and three trees would spring from them, — a cedar, a cypress, 
 •and a pine. The trees were symbolical of the Holy Trinity, 
 not only by their number, but by the virtues which belonged 
 to each separately. 
 
 It happened as the angel had foretold. The trees were 
 hardly a foot above the ground in the days ot Abraham. 
 Moses, to whom their true nature was revealed, took them 
 up carefully, carried them with him during the years of 
 wandering in the desert, and then replanted them in a 
 mysterious valley named Comfrafort ( ' Comfort,' ' con- 
 solation ' ?). From Comfrafort, David was directed to bring 
 them to Jerusalem. He planted them close to a fountain ; 
 and within thirty years they had grown together so as to 
 form a single tree of wonderful beauty, under the shade of 
 which David composed his psalms and wept for his sins. In 
 spite of its beauty, Solomon cut it down in order to complete 
 
LEGEND OF THE CEOSS. 61 
 
 his temple ; for which a single beam was wanted, of a size 
 such as no other tree could furnish. But, in fitting the beam 
 to its place, it was found, after repeated trials, either too long 
 or too short ; and the marvel was accepted as a sign that it 
 was not to be so employed. The miraculous beam, however, 
 was reverently preserved in the temple. A certefi'n woman, 
 named MaximUla, one day leant against it, when her clothes 
 caught fire, and she cried out in a spirit of prophecy, ' Jesus 
 Christ, thou Son of God, help me !' The Jews, when they 
 heard her cry, took her for mad, and chased her from the 
 city — the first martyr, says the legend, for Jesus Christ. 
 
 Thus far the more usual version. Another, which has been 
 followed in a striking Provencal narration, quoted by M. 
 Fauriel,* asserts that when the tree was found too short for 
 the temple, it was flung aside into a certain marsh, where it 
 served as a bridge. But when the Queen of Sheba came to 
 Jerusalem to hear the wisdom of Solomon, and was about to 
 cross the marsh, she saw in a vision how the Saviour of the 
 world was to be suspended on that tree, and so would not 
 walk over it, but forthwith adored it. It was afterwards, as 
 aU the versions agree, buried in the earth, on the spot where 
 the Pool of Bethesda was at a later time made ; so that it 
 was not only the descent of the angel, but the virtues of the 
 buried wood, which gave its healing quaUties to the water. 
 At the time of the Passion the wood rose and floated on the 
 surface, The Jews took it to make the cross of our Lord. 
 
 Such is the remarkable legend which has at least the 
 interest of having been very widely spread, and of having 
 been generally received as authentic. It would be no easy 
 task to trace the gradual steps of its formation, or to mark 
 the period of its first introduction to Europe. The footprints 
 of Adam, which left the ground bare, are still pointed out on 
 the summit of Mount Gerizim. There was a very ancient 
 " Sist. de la PoSsie Provenfak, i. 263.- 
 
62 SACEED TEEBS AND PLOWEES. 
 
 tradition — more ancient apparently tlian the legend whicli 
 has just been narrated — which asserted that the cross itself 
 was fixed in the grave of Adam, and that Ms skull was thrown 
 up in digging the ground to receive it — 
 
 ' Thou madest Death ; and lo, thy- foot 
 Is on the skull which thou hast made.' 
 
 Traditions such as these seem to have been worked into the 
 
 later legend ; and there may have been others relating to 
 
 Adam preserved in the neighbourhood of Hebron. The tree 
 
 of the legend, 'without bark or leaves,' is possibly not 
 
 unconnected with a remarkable oak, which Sir John Man- 
 
 deville, in the middle of the fourteenth century, thus 
 
 describes : — 
 
 'And a lytille fro Ebron is the Mount of Mambre, of the which 
 the valley taketh his name. And there is a tree of Oke, that the 
 Sarazines clepen (call) Dirpe, that is of Abraham's tyme, the whiche 
 men clepen the drye tree. And thai seye, that it hathe ben there 
 sithe the beginnynge of the world ;. and was sumtyme grene, and bare 
 lev'es, unto the t3rme that oure Lord dyede on the cros ; and thanne it 
 dryede ; and so dyden alle the trees that waren thanne in the worlde. 
 And some saye, be here prophecyes, that a Lord, a prince of the west 
 syde of the world, shaUe wyn the land of promyssyoun, that ys the 
 Holy Land, with helpe of Cristene men ; and he schaUe do synge a 
 masse undir that drye tree, and then the tree schalle wexen grene, and 
 here bathe fruyt and leves. And through that myracle manye Sarazines 
 and Jewes schulle be turned to Cristene fejrthe. And therefore thei 
 don gret worschipe thereto, and kepen it fully besyly. And alle be 
 it so, that it be drye, nathelea yet he berethe gret vertue : for certeynly 
 he that hath a litUle thereof upon him, it heleth him of the fallynge 
 evylle ; and his hors schalle not be a foundred ; and manye othere 
 vertues it hathe : wherefore men holden it full precyous.'* 
 
 This is no doiibt the ' antediluvian' oak — Trfv il'^v^r\v koKov 
 fievtjv Bpw — ^mentioned by Josephus, and especially dedi- 
 cated to Abraham, t the last relic of the ' oaks' (mistranslated 
 
 * Tromels of Sir JoJm Mandevilk, ed. HalUwell, pp. 68, 69. Man- 
 deville left England in 1322, and returning to Europe after an absence 
 of 34 years, died at Lifege in 1371. 
 
 t See Dean Stanley's Lectv/res on the Jewish Church, and Sermons 
 preached in the East. 
 
MATERIAL OP THE CEOSS. 63 
 
 the ' plain'*) of Mamre. The tree was said in later times to 
 have sprung from the staff of one of the angels who visited 
 Abraham here ; amd though sometimes blazing with fire, it 
 nevertheless was always greem. Writers who, like Lipsius 
 and Gretser, maintained that the cross of our Lord had been 
 made of oak, appealed to the religious sanctity with which the 
 sacred writers seem occasionally to invest that tree — and 
 especially this oak of Mamre — ks partly confirming their 
 opinion. But the earlier mediaBval belief was evidently 
 connected with the legend of the tree which sprang from the 
 three seeds given to Seth ; and when four kinds of wood are 
 mentioned, the title of the cross is included : — 
 
 ' Pes crucis est cedrus ; corpus tenet alta cupressus ; 
 Palma manus retinet ; titulo Isetatiir oliva.' 
 
 Bede names cypress, cedar, pine, and box as the four woods ; 
 and St. Chrysostom, who names but three, refers to the words 
 of Isaiah, ' The glory of Lebanon shall come unto thee j the 
 fir-tree, the pine-tree, and the box together, to beautify the 
 place of my sanctuary.' f What the material of our Lord's 
 cross may in truth have been, it is not easy to conjecture ; 
 unless we assign any weight to the assertion of Lipsius, that 
 the pieces which were shown in his day as relics were of oak.J 
 
 The cross of our blessed Lord may be said to fling its 
 shadow over the whole vegetable world. From this time the 
 trees and the flowers which had been associated with heathen 
 
 • Stanley's Smai and Palestine, p. 103. 
 
 f Isaiah Ix. 13. Chrysostom, Orat. de VeneraUo7ie Crucis, quoted 
 by Gretser de Cruce. 
 
 X ' E qu4 materia crux 1 et obvio et prompto aJiquo ligno. E qud, 
 nostri Servatoris ? Censemus e quercu. Primum quia viri fide digni 
 asserunt frusta sacratissimi hujus ligni quae hodie extant, speciem 
 hanc referre. Turn, quia crebra et frequens in Judsea olim et nunc 
 quoque ilia arbor. Tertio, quia robustum lignum, et fixioni laturseque 
 
 aptum Nam quod superioris aliquot sevi scriptores tria aut 
 
 quatuor genera ligni in cruce dominica agnoscvint, curiose magis dictum 
 arbitramur quam Yeve.'— Justus Lvpsim de Oruce, 1. iii. cap. 13. 
 
64 SACBED TEEES AND FLOWERS. 
 
 rites and deities, began to be connected with holier names, 
 and not nnfrequently with the events of the Crucifixion 
 itself. Thus one species of orchis, which in Cheshire is called 
 ' Grethsemane,' is said to have been growing at the foot of the 
 cross, and to have received some drops of blood on its leaves. 
 Hence the dark stains by which they have ever since been 
 marked ; just as ' Jean le gorge-rouge/ as the robin is 
 called in Britanny, is there Said to have plucked a thorn from 
 the crown of the Saviour, in the vain attempt to remove it, 
 and to have been marked ever since by its red breast. Some 
 such legend seems also to have been attached to the white, 
 purple-stained flower of the wood-sorrel, which the early 
 Italian painters, Fra Angelico among them, occasionally 
 place in the foreground of their Crucifixions. The triple 
 leaf of this plant — which St. Patrick is said to have used, as 
 he did the shamrock, in illustration of the Trinity — and, as 
 Mr. B-uskin suggests, its peculiar power of quenching thirst, 
 may also have been in the mind of the painters, and the 
 remarkable Italian name of the wood-sorrel — 'Alleluia' — 
 may have had its share in its introduction ; ' as if the very 
 flowers round the cross were giving glory to Grod.' There is, 
 however, one plant which was anciently regarded, at least ip 
 Northern Europe, as having been more especially connected 
 with the sufferings of our Lord — ^the aub^pine or whitethorn, 
 It is of this that the crown of thorns was generally thought 
 to have been made. ,We now know that it cannot have been 
 so ; but the recollection of the old belief may well give an 
 additional interest to those venerable thorns which are so 
 often found — ^planted, it may have been, with this especial 
 reference near the ruins of monastic houses. 
 
 The whitethorn is one of the trees most in favour with 
 the small people ; and both in Britanny and in some parts of 
 Ireland it is held unsafe to gather even a leaf from certain old 
 and solitary thorns, which grow in sheltered hollows of the 
 
THE CEOWN OF THOENS. 65 
 
 moorland, and are the fairies' trysting places. But no ' evil 
 ghost ' dares to approach the whitethorn, such are the virtues 
 which it acquired from the use which had been made of it. 
 We may turn once more to Sir John Mandeville for the 
 mediaeval belief : — 
 
 ' Then was our Lord ylad into a "gardyn . . . and there the Jewes 
 scorned hym, and maden hym a croune of the braunches of Aibespyne, 
 that is white thorn, that grew in the same gardyn, and setten yt on 
 hy« heved. . . . And therefore hath the white thorn many vertues. 
 For he that beareth a braunch on him thereof, no thondre, ne no 
 maner of tempest may dere (hurt) hym ; ne in the hows that yt is 
 ynne may non evil ghost entre. . . . Afterward was our Lord lad 
 forth before the Bischoppes and the maysters of the lawe, to another 
 gardyn of Anne (Annas) . . . and there also he was examined and 
 scorned . . . and crowned eft with a white thorn that men clepeth 
 barbarynes, that grew in that gardyn; and that hath also many 
 vertues. And afterwards he was lad into a gardyn of Cayphas, and 
 there he was crowned with eglantier. . . . And after he was lad into 
 the chambre of Pylate, and there he was crowned . . and there made thei 
 the crown of Jonkes (rushes) of the see . . . and of this crown half 
 ys in Paris and the other half at Coatantynoble : and this crown had 
 Christ on hys heved when he was don upon the ores ; and therefore 
 ought men to worschipe it and hold it more worthi than any of the 
 other.'* 
 
 The various beliefs respecting the crown of thorns are here 
 curiously combined. That it had been made of whitethorn 
 was the natural creed of JSTorthern Europe ; and it was the 
 scent of ' aub^pine ' that filled the air when, according to the 
 romance, the holy crown blossomed afresh, whilst the vic- 
 torious Charles the (3rreat was kneeling before it. The ber- 
 beris is the ' holy thorn ' of Italy, where it seems to have 
 been so regarded because its thorns are set together in groups 
 of three at each joint of the branch. The prickly rush was one 
 of the Eastern traditions, but the belief of the East has been 
 tolerably constant to what was possibly the real plant used — 
 (although this can only be asserted with much hesitation) — 
 the Nabk (Zizyphus spina Christi), a species of buckthorn. 
 • Travels, p. 70. 
 
 5 
 
66 SACKED TREES AND FLOWEES. 
 
 This plant is still found in the neighbourhood of Jerusalem, 
 and is identical with the 'atad' of Scripture, translated 
 * bramble ' in the English version. Since the bramble has 
 been thus consecrated, says Gretser, it has, in truth, obtained 
 the kingdom among trees, and the rest ' put their trust in 
 its shadow,' as foretold in the parable of Jotham* The nabk 
 has large heart-shaped green leaves, and bears a single-stoned 
 fruit, which ' looks and tastes rather like a bad crab-apple.' 
 It is, according to Sir Gardner Wilkinson,t the lotos of 
 Homer, the enchanted fruit of the land 
 
 'In which it seemed always afternoon.' 
 A sort of wine was made from it by the lotos-eaters — the 
 origin, it has been suggested, of the Homeric myth. 
 
 The legend frequently assigbed to the aspen — that it was 
 used for the cross of our Lord, and that its leaves have 
 shivered ever since, is probably of no great antiquity, and is 
 rather local than general. The shivering of the leaves is said, 
 in some parts of Germany, to have been a punishment for 
 the great pride of the tree, which refiised to bow its head 
 when the Saviour passed through the forests of the North, 
 and all the other trees bent lowly before Him. The story, 
 which is found elsewhere, recalls the miraculous palm of the 
 Gospel of the Infancy, which bent its crown of fruit for the 
 support of the Virgin, who was resting beneath it, and was 
 rewarded by the Divine Infant with the words, ' Lift thee up, 
 pahn, and be thou companion of the trees which are in the 
 paradise of my Father.' Still less general than the legend 
 of the aspen is the belief — which seems, indeed, almost con- 
 fined to certain of the midland counties — that the cross was 
 made of elder, and that for this reason the wood of the 
 elder-tree should never be bound up in faggots for burning, 
 or be treated with the least disrespect. This is the more 
 remarkable, because the usual mediaeval tradition ascribed a 
 * Judges is. t Rawlinson's HerodoiMS, ii. 127. 
 
THE ELDEB. 67 
 
 very different character to the elder-tree, which had been of 
 evil repute ever since Judas hanged himself upon it. The 
 tree on which Judas died, which Mandeville calls a ' tre of 
 eldre,' proving at least thereby the general belief of Western 
 Europe, was shown in his time ' fast by ' the tomb of 
 Absalom. It is probable that the piece of Enghsh folk-lore 
 has its roots in the old heathenism of the North, and is not 
 unconnected with a curious superstition about the elder still 
 general in Denmark. On the border of the wood, with its 
 white clusters glimmering through the dusk, the elder has an 
 especially ghostlike and mysterious appearance ; and it is 
 held in Denmark that the tree is protected by a powerful 
 being called the Elder-mother, without whose leave it is not 
 safe to gather the flowers. No household furniture must be 
 made of elder-wood, — ^least of all a cradle ; for in such a case 
 the Elder-mother will certainly strangle the sleeping child. 
 It has been suggested that a connexion may exist between 
 the Danish name of the elder-tree (Jiylde), and that of the 
 elves (ellen). This is uncertain : but Mr. Worsaae would, 
 perhaps, be justified in pointing to the Englidi belief as the 
 Christianized form of a superstition introduced by the first 
 Scandinavian settlers yrithin the Danelagh. 
 
 The change, of which this may be an example, and to 
 which reference has more than once been made, is illustrated 
 by nothing so completely as by the flowers which have been 
 more especially dedicated to the Blessed Virgin. All flowers, 
 indeed, are said to be dedicated to her ; hence the varied 
 groups which fill Continental churches during her month — ^the 
 month of May, and hence the wreaths of all kinds and colours 
 with which the Flemish painters delighted to encircle their 
 pictures of the Mother and Child. But there are many with 
 which ' Our Lady's ' name is, in one form or another, directly 
 connected. To her belong the ' Lady's grass,' the * Lady's 
 slipper,' and ' Lady's smock.' The grey-green leaf, covered 
 
68 SACEED TREES AND FLOWERS. 
 
 with a soft, silky hair, of the Alchemilla vulgaris, is our 
 ' Lady's mantle,' the glistening drops that sparkle on the sun- 
 dew are our ' Lady's tears,' and the beautiful ' Maiden ' hair 
 fern, that lines the sides of Cornish sea caves with its deli- 
 cate fronds, is also commemorative of her, and is in some 
 parts of Europe known as ' Maria's hair.' To us these plants 
 now suggest the Yii-gin only ; but long before the first 
 Christian teachers made their way to the shores of Northern 
 Europe, they had been connected with some great female 
 divinity, whose name is still here and there retained. Thus, 
 one species of Adiantum is stiU known in Iceland as 
 ' Freyja's hair '; and it is for the most part Freyja, the ' frau ' 
 — ^mother and queen of the Northern gods — ^who in these 
 and similar cases was replaced by the Virgin. The lady- 
 bird, the German ' Marienvoglein,' was once 'Freyja's bird'; 
 and the constellation of Orion's belt, in Zealand known as 
 'Mariarok,' — Mary's spindle, — is still Freyja's spindle in 
 Sweden. Although it is not always easy to account for 
 the attributes of mystery or of magical power assigned to 
 the sacred plants of the andent world, Freyja's plants are 
 generally marked so distinctly by colour or by peculiar form, 
 as to point out at once the cause of their selection. In some 
 cases the purity of the white flower rendered the change to 
 the patronage of the Virgin specially appropriate : but she 
 seems to have taken the place of the heathen goddess as a 
 matter of course, just as Thor and Odin were replaced in a 
 similar manner by St. John or St. Christopher. The two 
 flowers, however, which beyond all others are connected with 
 the Virgin — ^the rival queens of the garden, the lily and the 
 rose — ^had been dedicated to her in the East, whilst Freyja 
 was still presiding undisturbed over her own woods and 
 moorlands ; although the same change may be traced in the 
 history and appropriation of both flowers after the Northern 
 world became Christian. 
 
THE WHITE LILT. 69 
 
 The lily is first directly connected witli the Virgin in the 
 story of her Assumption, — a story which was not generally 
 accepted until the beginning of the fifth century, although it 
 dates apparently from the second. This asserts that when the 
 Apostles, on the third day after her interment, visited the 
 grave in which they had laid the mother of our Lord, they found 
 it open, and filled with a growth of roses and white lilies. 
 Henceforth these flowers became her especial emblems, in 
 accordance with the text, ' I am the rose of Sharon and the 
 lily of the valley.' The flower which generally appears in con- 
 nexion with the Virgin is the great white lily (iiYmm candidum) 
 of our gardens, the purest and most beautiful of all the species. 
 Singularly enough, the native country of this lily is still a 
 matter of dispute. It is nowhere found wild in Palestine, 
 and it has even been suggested that it may have been an 
 importation from the New World. This, however, as Dr. 
 Lindley some time since pointed out, is certainly not the case ; 
 since the true white lily appears in many Italian and Flemish 
 pictures of earlier date than the first voyages of Columbus. 
 It is now cultivated in both Syria and Egypt as an exotic bulb; 
 but it seems probable that it has been known in those coun- 
 tries from a very early period, and that the beauty and purity 
 of its flowers caused it to be regarded with a peculiar rever- 
 ence long before the Christian sera. It seems to be this lily 
 which was believed by the Jews to counteract all witchcraft 
 and enchantments ; for which reason Judith is said to have 
 crowned herself with a wreath of lilies when she set out for 
 the tent of Holofernes. It was perhaps introduced into Europe 
 during the Roman period ; for it can hardly be any other 
 than the great white lily to which Bede refers as a fit emblem 
 of the resurrection of the Virgin : the pure white petals 
 signifying her spotless body j the golden anthers within typi- 
 fying her soul, sparkling with Divine light. In pictures of 
 the Annunciation, the branch of white lilies is not placed in 
 
70 SACEED TEEES AND FLOWEES. 
 
 the hand of the archangel Gabriel until the later period of 
 Italian art. The earlier painters represent him with either a 
 sceptre, or, more rarely, with a spray of the olire-tree. But 
 in almost every case the vase of lilies is placed by the side of 
 the Virgin, with its three mystical flowers crowning their 
 three green stems. The origin of this mysterious number 
 was, according to the legend, as follows : — There was a cer- 
 tain famous Master of the Dominicans, who for many years 
 had been tormented by doubts concerning the mother of our 
 Lord ; and at last, knowing that a brother of his order, 
 named Egidius, was of great renown for sanctity and for 
 divine illumination, he determined to lay his diflBcnlty before 
 him. Brother Egidius, foreknowing both his coming and the 
 object of it, set out to meet the Master, and as he approached, 
 striking the ground with his staff, he exclaimed, ' Master of 
 the Preachers I Virgo ante partum ! ' and immediately, on 
 the spot which he had stricken, there sprang out of the earth 
 a single lily flower, whiter than snow. Again Brother Egidius 
 struck with his staff, saying, ' doubting Master ! Virgo in 
 partu /' and a second lily appeared ; and again he struck, 
 with the words, ' my brother I Virgo post partum ! ' and a 
 third lily sprang up to illustrate the miracle and to confirm 
 the faith of the Master.* The story is appropriately assigned 
 to the Dominicans, who in their origin were so closely con- 
 nected with the great burst of devotion to the Virgin Mary 
 which characterised the end of the twelfth and the beginning 
 of the thirteenth centuries. It is to this period that most of 
 the English ' Lady chapels ' belong, and from this time the 
 lily appears as a striking architectural ornament. The Cis- 
 tercians, especially, who, not less than the children of St. 
 Dominic, regarded the Virgin as their patroness, adopted 
 this emblem in their churches ; and their ' carved work of 
 
 * Magrvwm Speculum Exemphrum, quoted by Dr. Rock, Clmrch of 
 the Fathers, iii. 247. 
 
THE LILIES OF THE FIELD. 71 
 
 open lilies ' still graces with its mournful beauty the ruined 
 aisles and cloisters of Fountains, of Eievaulx, and of Kirkstall. 
 The Cistercians, indeed, had their own story of the lily. 
 There was a brother of their order so rude and so unlettered 
 that he could be taught nothing, and could retain nothing in 
 his memory beyond the ' Ave Maria ' of the angelical saluta- 
 tion. But this he repeated incessantly. At last he died ; and 
 from his grave there sprang up a lily of pure gold, with the 
 words 'Ave Maria ' traced on every leaf. 
 
 Although it would be impossible to find a more beautiful 
 or striking emblem of the Virgin than the lily, it has a far 
 higher value for us from the fact that it was a flower of this 
 species to which our Lord referred in the Sermon on the 
 Mount. Could we determine with any certainty the exact 
 species on which the glance of our blessed Lord fell when He 
 bade His hearers ' consider the lilies of the field,' there is 
 surely no flower in the world which we should regard with 
 equal interest. But this is not easy. The plains westward 
 of the Lake of Gennesareth, which surround the ' Mount of 
 Beatitudes,' are covered at different seasons of the year with 
 liliaceous flowers of many kinds, nearly aU of which are 
 brightly coloured. Pococke saw tulips growing wild in great 
 numbers, and conjectured that they were the ' lilies of Solo- 
 liaon.' Sir J. E. Smith thought the plant was the Amaryllis 
 lutea, whose golden flowers cover the fields of the Levant in 
 autumn; but later travellers, with far more probability, re- 
 gard the Chalcedonian, or scarlet Martagon lily, as having 
 been that referred to by our Lord. This, which was formerly 
 known as the ' lily of Byzantium,' is found from the Adriatic 
 to the Levant, and is most abundant throughout the district 
 of Grahlee, where almost the only plant which disputes the 
 pre-eminence with it is the rhododendron. It is, moreover, 
 in blossom precisely at that season of the year (the early 
 summer) when the Sermon on the Mount is generally thought 
 
72 SACEED TEEES AND FLOWEES. 
 
 to have been spoken ; and its tall pyramids of scarlet flowers 
 brighten the plaia with such touches of strong colour as are 
 visible at a great distance, and might fitly suggest a compari- 
 son with the royal robes of Solomon. There is, it would 
 seem, much reason for regarding the scarlet Martagon as the 
 Hly of our Lord's discourse, but it is only quite recently that 
 its claims have received due consideration. The great gar- 
 deners of former days — Benedictine and Cistercian, monk and 
 nun — ^looked upon the lily of the valley as the true ' flower 
 of the field.' Although it now grows wild in many parts of 
 England, it is not a native, and may have been introduced 
 from Southern Europe by some Brother ' Pacificus,' whom we 
 may picture to ourselves as tending the plant with loving care 
 in the garden of his monastery, and watching reverently for the 
 first unfolding of its blossoms. Like the great white lily, the Hly 
 of the valley was especially dedicated to the Virgin, and the 
 folk-lore which surrounds it in England is always connected 
 with purity and holiness. It grows freely in some parts of 
 St. Leonard's Forest in Sussex, and is there said to have 
 sprung from the blood of St. Leonard, who once fought in 
 the forest for three successive days with a mighty worm or 
 'fire-drake.' Although at last victorious, the saint was 
 severely wounded in the struggle, and wherever his blood fell 
 to the ground lilies of the valley sprang up in profusion. 
 
 The rose, it need hardly be said, is as much an emblem of 
 the Virgin as the lily, with which latter flower the ' rose of 
 Sharon ' is united in the text already quoted. Yet it is 
 doubtfiil, not only whether the original word is here rightly 
 translated ' rose,' but whether the rose is mentioned at aU in 
 any part of the sacred volume. The oleander and the rhodo- 
 dendron are, no doubt, the true plants in many places where 
 the English translation uses the word rose; and the rose of 
 Sharon is, ia all probability, the large, single yeUow Narcis- 
 sus — a flower common in Palestine, and one that has always 
 
THE BOSE. 73 
 
 been highly esteemed in the East. ' He who has two cakes of 
 bread,' Mahomed is reported to have said, ' let him sell one of 
 them for some flowers of the narcissus ; for bread is the food 
 of the body, but narcissus is the food of the soul.' Vener- 
 able, however, as is the renown of the narcissus — the antique 
 flower-crown of the ' great goddesses ' — 
 
 luy&Xaai deatv 
 ipxa^ov trre^dvu/i.' 
 
 we are hardly disposed to recognise it as a rival of the rose, 
 least of aU in a country which displays the rose as its emblem, 
 although the ' rose of Englabd ' can hardly trace itself higher 
 than the days of the great wars, which 
 
 ' Sent, between the red rose and the white, 
 A thousand, souls to death and deadly night.' 
 
 The northern portal of the cathedral at Upsal is covered 
 with sculptured roses, which Scheffer, the historian of the 
 place, thought were intended to illustrate the fact that the 
 first preachers of Christianity in the North had come from 
 England.* But he need hardly have gone so far afield. The 
 rose has always been an ecclesiastical emblem, and in heathen 
 days it was a mystic flower in both Germany and Scandina- 
 via. The apse of the venerable cathedral of Hildesheim is 
 nearly covered by a wild rose, the roots of which are within 
 the crypt. It was, says the tradition, growing on the spot 
 before the foundations of the church were laid by Charles the 
 Great, and it lays claim accordingly to an antiquity of more 
 than a thousand years. We are, perhaps, fairly entitled to 
 conclude that the present tree is a representative of a long Hne 
 of ancestors which may have flourished here before the days 
 of St. Boniface, and have marked Hildesheim as a sacred site 
 to be christianized by the erection of a church. For the rose 
 was under the special protection of dwarfs and elves, who 
 
 * Scheffer, Upsalia Antiqua, p. 173. 
 
74 SACBED TREES AND FLOWEES. 
 
 were ruled — so the Heldenbucli tells us - by their mighty 
 king Laurin, the lord of the Rose Garden : — 
 
 ' Four portals to the garden lead, and when the gates are closed 
 No living wight dare touch a rose, 'gainst his strict command opposed ; 
 Whoe'er would break the golden gates, or cut the silken thread. 
 Or who would dare to crush the flowers down beneath his tread. 
 Soon for his pride would leave to pledge a foot and hand ; 
 Thus Laurin, King of Dwarfs, rules within his land.'* 
 
 Is not King Laurin the enchanted prince of ' Beauty and 
 the Beast,' of whose roses we hare all heard ? 
 
 The rose, however, sprung from the blood of Adonis, was 
 the flower of Aphrodite before the Dwarf King had planted 
 his mysterious garden. A new origin was devised for it in 
 Christian times, and Lord Lindsay has quoted the legend as 
 an example of the infinite superiority of the Christian 
 ' symbolism of mute nature ' to that of the elder world. It 
 was when a holy maiden of Bethlehem, ' blamed with wrong 
 and slandered,' was doomed to death by fire, that, says Sir 
 John MandeviUe, ' she made her prayers to our Lord that he 
 would help her, as she was not guilty of that sin.' Then the 
 fire was suddenly quenched, and the burning brands became 
 red ' roseres,' and the brands that were not kindled white 
 ' roseres ' full of roses. ' And theise weren the first roseres 
 and roses, bothe white and red, that ever any man saughe.'f 
 Henceforth the rose became the flower of martyrs. It was 
 a basket of roses that the martyr-saint Dorothea sent to 
 the notary Theophilus from the garden of Paradise ; and 
 roses, said the romance, sprang up over all the field of 
 Roncevaux, where Roland and the ' douze pairs ' had stained 
 the soil with their blood. As an emblem of the Virgin, 
 the rose, both white and red, appears at a very early period, 
 and it was especially so recognised by St. Dominic, when 
 
 * Heldenbuch, s. iv., ' The Garden of Roses.' 
 t Travels of SW John MandeviUe, p. 70. 
 
PLOWEES OP ST. JOHN. 75 
 
 he instituted the devotion of the rosary with direct refer- 
 ence to the life of St. Mary. The prayers appear to have 
 been symbolised as roses. There is a story of a ' lordsman, 
 who had gathered much goods of his lord's,' and who had 
 to pass with his treasure through a wood in which thieves 
 were waiting for him. When he entered the wood, he 
 remembered that he had not that day said 'Our Lady's 
 saulter ' ; and, as he knelt to do so, the Virgin came and 
 placed a garland on his head, and 'at each Ave she set a 
 rose in the garland that was so bryghte that all the wood 
 shone thereof.' He was himself ignorant of it ; but the 
 thieves saw the vision, and allowed him to pass unharmed.* 
 
 The Virgin, as we have seen, succeeded Freyja in the 
 ' calendar ' of Northern flowers. The two ' white ' gods of 
 Valhalla — Baldur and Heimdallr — ^both of whom represent 
 the sun, and whose peculiar epithet referred to the dazzling 
 brightness of sunlight, were replaced in a similar manner by 
 St. John the Baptist, whose midsummer festival is marked, 
 all over Europe, by so many remains of solar worship. He 
 is himself called ' White Saint John ' in some old German and 
 Gallic calendars.t Flowers with large sun-shaped discs, either 
 white or golden-yellow, were dedicated to Baldur, as the sun- 
 god J and it was in this manner that the hypericum became 
 the peculiar property of St. John, and, as the 'fuga dsemonum,' 
 was so powerful in repelling the works of darkness ; — 
 
 ' Trefoil, vervain, John's wort, dill. 
 Hinder witches of their wilL' 
 
 One species of St. John's wort (^Ifypericum quadr angular e, or 
 perforatum) has its leaves pierced with minute holes, which 
 are said to have been made by the devil with a needle, just as 
 Baldur was pierced with the mistletoe by Loke. The root, 
 too, is marked with red spots, still called ' Baldur's blood ' in 
 
 * Trcrnls of Sir John Momdeville, p. 70. 
 
 t Finn Magnussen, Lex. Mythol., s. v. Baldur. 
 
76 SACEED TREES AND FLOWEBS. 
 
 some parts of Norway, but generally said to be the ' blood of 
 St. John,' and to appear always on the day of his beheading 
 (August 29). The old Northern name of the great horse- 
 daisy was ' Baldur's brow ' ; and this, with many species of 
 chrysanthemum, all with white or golden flowers, became 
 also dedicated to St. John. The attributes of the Baptist, 
 however, are sometimes shared in a remarkable manner by 
 St. John the Evangelist ; and the golden ' sunflowers,' as 
 these chrysanthemimis were formerly called (the plant now 
 known by this name is an introduction from Peru), are occa- 
 sionally introduced in representations of the latter saint with 
 singular beauty and fitness. Thus, in stained glass of the 
 twelfth century, filling a window in the apse of the church 
 of St. Bemi, at Bheims, the Virgin and St. John appear 
 on either side of the cross, the heads of both encircled by 
 aureoles, having sunflowers inserted in their outer circles. 
 The flowers are turned towards the Saviour on the cross, as 
 toward their true ' sun.' The marygold — one of the Virgin's 
 flowers — ^is itself a chrysanthemum. 
 
 St. John appropriated the flowers of light and sunshine. 
 The hammer-wielding Thor, who fought with the frost giants, 
 is replaced by St. Olaf, St. George, or St. Michael, all of 
 whom fought with monsters and dragons ; and sometimes by 
 St. Christopher, whose figure was gigantic, like Thor's. The 
 houseleek, with its broad, matted scales, which had been 
 ' Thor's beard ' — ' Donnerbaert ' — ^thought, as being under the 
 protection of the thunder-god, to keep oflF lightning, for which 
 reason Charles the Great ordered it to be planted on the roofs 
 of all his dwellings* — ^became 'St. George's beard.' One 
 
 * The order occurs in the Gapitulare de VUlis, where all the 
 plants are enumerated which were to be cultivated in the gardens of 
 the different royal villas. ' Jewsbeard,' by which name the houseleek 
 is known in some parts of England, is a, corruption of ' Jovis-barba.' 
 This is the name given to the plant in the Capitular. It belonged to 
 Jupiter in the south, in the same manner as to Thor in the north. 
 
OSMUND THE WATEBMAN. 77 
 
 species of Osmunda (crispa) is in Norway called ' St. Olafs 
 beard.' It is elsewhere known as ' Thor's root '; an additional 
 reason, perhaps, for regarding its far more beantifiil cousin, 
 our own royal fern (Osmunda regalis), the ' Herb Chris- 
 topher ' of Gerard, as having been anciently connected with 
 the Northern god. No one who has seen this stateliest of 
 ferns in its own most favonred haunts — some sheltered Cornish 
 valley, the banks of a rushing Dartmoor stream, or the 
 wooded margin of Grasmere or Killarney, — 
 
 ' like Kaiad by the side 
 
 Of Grecian brook, or Lady of the Mere 
 Sole sitting on the shores of old romance,' — 
 
 wUl doubt that its size and remarkable appearance — especially 
 in autumn, when its deep-green fronds take all the varied 
 crimsonsof the sycamore — must have always claimed attention. 
 ' Osmund the waterman ' is one of its old Unglish names ; 
 and the white centre of its root is the ' heart of Osmund.' 
 Osmund — the word means ' God's protection ' — is said, but 
 apparently without direct authority, to have been a name of 
 Thor ; and some legend connected with that god's many 
 fights and wanderings may have been once attached to the 
 royal fern. The legend is, it may be feared, effectually lost, 
 for we cannot accept the often-quoted story of the Loch Fyne 
 fisherman as anything but a very modem piece of folk-lore. 
 Perhaps after all, the half-mystery that clings about the plant 
 renders it more attractive to the imagination than if we had 
 its legend at full length ; and whether the Christian giant 
 has or has not in this instance succeeded the Northern god — 
 as he certainly has in many others — his story is never more 
 appropriately recalled to us than where the river-bank is 
 crowned by the towering fronds of the gigantic ' herb 
 Christopher.' 
 The name of the wise, white-bearded Odin does not seem to 
 
78 SACEED TEEES AND FLOWEES. 
 
 have been connected with many plants. His, however, was 
 the blue-flowered Geranium syl/oaticum, of which the old 
 German name was ' Gottesgnad,' ' God's grace,' and to which 
 Gerard gives the name of Geranium gratia Dei. It was pro- 
 bably thus known in monastic herbaries, but it had been 
 ' Odin's grace ' or ' Odin's favour ' in the days of heathenism, 
 and is still so called occasionally m Iceland, where it is 
 common. Its large sky-blue flowers were formerly gathered 
 there for dyeing a blue-grey, although the art is said to be 
 now lost. The grey vests and kirtles of the champions of the 
 Sagas were probably stained with this dye. The colour is 
 said to have been ' fittest for fighting men ' ; and we can hardly 
 help connecting the grey cloak or ' hackle,' in which Odin was 
 always wrapped when he appeared on middle earth, with the 
 flower of ' Odin's favour,' from which the dye was procured. 
 The hood, or ' tarn ' cap — the cap of darkness, which enabled 
 those who carried it to become invisible at will, and which 
 also formed part of Odin's attire — is represented by another 
 plant, — ^the blue aconite, sometimes called ' Odin's helm.' Its 
 more general names, however, were ' Thor's hat ' and ' Tyr's 
 helm'; since the helmlike shape of its flowers suggested the 
 two great fighting-gods of the North, rather than the wiser 
 Odin. The aconite is one of the native plants of Northei^ 
 Europe ; and when the Benedictines invaded the domains of 
 Thor, it became ' monk's hood,' the cowl of the good brothers 
 replacing the helm of Tyr. 
 
 Another species of geranium — ^the crane's-biU {G. Ro- 
 hertiana) — is connected, if not with the more powerful gods 
 of Valhalla, at least with the elves and wood spirits, who were 
 their contemporaries. In some parts of England it is known 
 as ' Herb Robert' ; in France as ' Robin des bois '; and in 
 Germany as ' Ruprecht's kraut.' Ruprecht is the ' knecht 
 Ruprecht ' of German household stories ; the same, to all 
 appearance, as our Robin Goodfellow, with whose name his 
 
HEBB EOBEET. 79 
 
 own is, in fact, identical ;* and the flower that loves to fix 
 itself on old walla, on ruins, and on the roofs of soHtary farm- 
 houses, is thus the property of the half-kindly, half-mis- 
 chievous sprite who, like itself, haunted hearth and ' byre ' as 
 a household goblin. Another plant, our ' Good King Henry ' 
 {Chenopodium), the German .' Grut Heinrich,' ' Roth Hein- 
 rich,' found in large green masses in nearly the same situ- 
 ations as the geranium, no doubt belongs to one of Robin's 
 elfish companions ; for the names ' Heinz ' and ' Heiarich ' are 
 favourites with German dwarfs and kobolds. It does not 
 appear that the king of the elves was anywhere so called j 
 and it is possible that the Enghsh name may be traced to 
 some confusion with the sainted Henry of Lancaster. The 
 wild oat {Avena fatua) of the Enghsh proverb is the ' dwarFs 
 grass' of Northumberland ; but in this case the dwarf is the 
 savage ' brown man of the moors,' and no playful Robinet. 
 He has taken the place of Loke, the evil god of the North ; 
 and the wild oat is still called ' Loke's hair ' in Jutland, where 
 the proverb touching a careless scapegrace runs, 'Loke is 
 sowing his seed in him.' The Danish saying is so far better 
 than the English, that it distinctly recognises the tares as the 
 sowing of the ' enemy.' 
 
 Herb Robert and its fellows have led us again into the 
 pleasant company of the small people, with whom we set out. 
 Besides the plants which have been directly named from 
 them, there are many which have been associated with 
 them in ancient folk-lore, and which, in all probability, were 
 connected with elf-land and its inhabitants long before the 
 introduction of Christianity. We ought, perhaps, to place in 
 the former division the foxglove, whether its name really 
 commemorates the small ' folk,' or Reynard himself, who is 
 
 * The old German 'Hruodperaht' passed into Euotperht and (the 
 modem form) Ruprecht. From Ruotperht came the Norman 'Robert.' 
 Grimm, -D. Myth., p. 472. 
 
80 SACRED TEEES AND FLOWERS. 
 
 SO often made the companion of the fairies in German house- 
 stories. The ' lusmore,' or ' great herb,' as the plant is well 
 called in Ireland, where it colours many a wild hill-side with 
 a gorgeous mass of purple, is said to recognise the ' green 
 men of peace ' when they pass through the air, invisible to 
 mortal eye, and to salute them by bending its stately wand of 
 blossoms. The foxglove is a worthy pensioner of Oberon. 
 It is less easy to account for his choice of the rosemary, the 
 ' ellegrin,' ' elves-green ' of Denmark, and the ' alecrim ' of 
 Spain, where the name seems to be a corruption of the true 
 Northern word, introduced by the Gothic conquerors. But 
 the virtues of rosemary were formerly regarded as very great. 
 It was used at weddings, gilt, like oak-leaves on King 
 Charles's day ; and was hung about the porch and door-posts, 
 to bring good luck into the household. It kept off thieves ; 
 and, best of all, it could make old folks young again. There 
 was once, says ' Gahene' — ^in whom we are to recognise the 
 wise physician Galen — a gouty and crooked old queen,- who 
 looked back to her dancing days with longing regret. So — 
 
 ' Of rosmarjTi she took six pownde, 
 And ground it well in a stownde,' 
 
 and then mixed it with the water, in which she bathed three 
 times a day, taking care to anoint her head with ' gode balm' 
 afterwards. Her old flesh fell away; and she became so 
 young, tender, and fresh, that she began to look out for a 
 husband.* 
 
 For the most part, the plants and trees which have been 
 affected by the fairies take us into the wild and romantic 
 places which the good neighbours were themselves believed 
 chiefly to frequent. Yet it is remarkable that many of the 
 plants which we should naturally expect to find thus selected 
 are almost unnoticed in folk-lore or tradition. The primrose 
 
 * The story is from an old English poem on the virtues of rosemary, 
 printed by Wright and Halliwell, Beligmoe AnUquw, i. 195. 
 
FEEN SEED. 81 
 
 has no fairy legend belonging to it. The golden furze, the 
 glory of English commons, is, so far as we know, absolutely 
 without record in any folk-lore ; and even the heather itself, 
 although, from its covering their moors and mosses, it has a 
 certain obscure connection with elves and pixies, is without 
 any definite story or tradition. It can hardly have been the 
 wide diffusion and great abimdance of these plants which kept 
 them from a place in general folk-lore, since the ferns — ^their 
 companions on the breezy upland, in the depths of the wood 
 or in the rocky mountain glen — are distinguished by an 
 unusual amount of such tradition. The root of the common 
 bracken, cut across, not only displays the figure of an oak-tree, 
 but foretells by its markings much that is of special interest 
 to the investigator, always supposing that he has the power to 
 read them aright. But it is on the eve of St. John, when all 
 the hosts of elf-land are abroad in greatest power, that the 
 fern becomes most mysterious. It then puts forth, at dusk, a 
 small blue flower, which soon disappears ; and the wonderful 
 seed, quickly ripening, falls from the plant at midnight. He 
 who ' hath the receipt of fern-seed may walk invisible.'* It 
 must be carefuUy caught in a white napkin as it falls : and 
 the elves will no doubt ' whisk about the ears ' of the catcher, 
 as Aubrey declares they did in his days about the ears of 
 one who undertook the adventure. These passages are well 
 known. There is a curious reference to the old belief in the 
 works of Dean Jackson, one of the best and most learned 
 divines of the seventeenth century, which has been less 
 frequently quoted : — 
 
 ' It was my hap,' he writes, ' since I undertook the ministry, to 
 question an ignorant soul (whom, by undoubted report, I had known 
 to have been seduced by a teacher of unhallowed arts to make a dan- 
 gerous experiment) what he saw or heard when he watcht the falling 
 of the fern-seed at an unseasonable and suspicious hour. " Why," 
 quoth he, fearing (as his brief reply occasioned me to conjecture) 
 
 * King Hemy TV., part i., act 2, scene 1. 
 
 6 
 
82 SACKED TEEES AND FLOWEES; 
 
 lest I should press him to teU before company what he had volun- 
 tarily confessed unto a friend in secret some fourteen years before, 
 " do you think that the devil hath aught to do with that good seed ? 
 No ; it is in the keeping of the King of Fayries, and he, I know, will 
 do me no harm, although I should watch it again." Yet had he 
 utterly forgotten this king's name, upon whose kindness he so pre- 
 sumed, un-til I remembered it unto him out of my reading in Huon 
 of Bordeaux. 
 
 ' And having made this answer, he began to pose me thus : — S', you 
 are a scholar, and I am none. Tell me what said the Angel to Our 
 Lady ? or what conference had Our Lady with her cousin Ehzabeth 
 concerning the birth of St. John the Baptist 1 
 
 ' As if his intention had been to make bystanders believe that he 
 knew somewhat more on this point than was written in such books 
 as I use to read. 
 
 ' Howbeit, the meaning of his riddle I quickly conceived, and he 
 confessed to be this : that the Angel did foretell John Baptist should 
 be bom at that very instant in which the fern-seed, at other times in- 
 visible, did faU ; intimating, further (as far as I could then perceive), 
 that this saint of God had some extraordinary virtue from the time or 
 circumstcmce of his birth.'* 
 
 The name of the 'King of Fayries,' who presented Sir 
 Huon of Bordeaux with the enchanted horn, whose sound 
 would bring fairy help to the knight whenever he might need 
 it, was Oberon, which Mr. Keightley has shown to be identical 
 with 'Elberich.' It was apparently in the picturesque 
 romance of Huon that Shakespeare found the name which now 
 shines upon all the world in so dazzling a light of poetry. 
 
 Less famous, perhaps, than the fern, but almost as 
 mysterious in its direct connection with the elfin races, is the 
 mountain-ash, or rowan ; and into what lovely places — what 
 wild, heathy coppices — ^what solitary hollows of the moorland 
 — ^its very name takes us ! As we write there rises before us 
 a half-wooded glen on the skirts of Dartmoor, where the hill- 
 stream descends from ledge to ledge in a succession of falls, 
 filhng all the place with its wild music. At the foot of 
 one of the larger waterfalls rises a mountain-ash of great age 
 
 * Jackson's Works, vol. i., p. 916 (London, 1673). The passage is 
 given in Choice Notes from Notes and Queries —Folk Lore, p. 64. 
 
THE MOUNTAIN-ASH. 83 
 
 and size ; its clusters of scarlet berries sparkling in the gleams 
 of sunlight that sweep across, and forming an admirable 
 foreground to the grey, lichen-tinted rocks, and the patches of 
 oaken coppice and underwood, with which the steep sides of 
 the glen are lined. It is completely "Wordsworth's picture :— 
 
 ■ the pool 
 
 Glows at her feet, and all the gloomy rocks 
 Are brightened roiind her. ' * 
 
 No more perfect trysting-place for the pixies could possibly 
 be imagined ; and they were accordingly often seen in old 
 times, says tradition, under the branches of their favourite 
 tree — a certain proof that the pixies are, after all, of no very 
 evil nature. For the rowan is the especial property of the 
 ' light ' elves ; and crosses made from its wood, or sprays of 
 its leaves hung from the rafters, will prevent any evil creature 
 from entering the house or the cattle-sheds. In the old North 
 the tree was called ' Thor's helper,' because it bent itself to 
 his grasp, when on his way to the land of the frost giants he 
 had to cross a river which a sorceress had made to overflow. 
 Hence the tree was greatly reverenced by the Norsemen. 
 At Modrufell, on the north coast of Iceland, is, or was, a 
 large rowan, always on Christmas eve stuck full of torches, 
 which no wind could possibly extinguish ; and one of the 
 Orkneys possessed a still more mysterious tree, with which 
 the fate of the islands was bound up, since, if a leaf was carried 
 away, the Orkneys would pass to some foreign lord. Venera- 
 tion for the mountain-ash, however, was by no means 
 confined to the Scandinavian north. Many a Welsh church- 
 yard had its ancient rowan, taking the place of the yew-tree 
 in England ; and small crosses made from its wood were 
 solemnly distributed on certain festivals, as a protection from 
 evil spirits. The great beauty of the tree — covered in spring 
 with its clusters of white flowers, and in autumn bright with 
 scarlet berries, both of which render it a conspicuous object 
 * Eoce. : ' Churchyard among the Mountains.' 
 
84 SACEED TEEES AND FLOWEES. 
 
 in the woods — may account to some extent for the 
 marvellous properties assigned to it ; but it seems also to 
 partake of the sanctity of the ash Yggdrasil ; and it may 
 perhaps be the Western representative of a stiU more ancient 
 world tree. At Boitpoor, Bishop Heber 
 
 ■ passed a fine tree, with leaves, at a little distance so much resem- 
 bling those of the mountain-ash, that I was for a moment deceived, 
 and asked if it did not bring fruit ? They said, no ; but that it was 
 a very noble tree, being called the Imperial tree for its excellent 
 properties ; that it slept aU night, and wakened and was alive all day, 
 withdrawing its leaves if any one attempted to touch them. Above 
 all, however, it was useful as a preservative against magic. A sprig 
 worn in the turban, or suspended over the bed, was a perfect security 
 against all spells, or the evil eye ; insomuch that the most formidable 
 wizard would not, if he coidd help it, approach its shade. One, in- 
 deed, they said, who was very renowned for his power (like Lorinite, 
 in the Kehama) of killing plants and drying up their sap with a look, 
 had come to this very tree, and gazed on it intently ; but, said the 
 old man, who told me this with an air of triumph, " look as he might, 
 he could do the tree no harm.'" 
 
 The Bishop remarks on the singularity of trees so similar 
 having the same superstitions attached to them. ' Which 
 nation,' he asks, ' is in this case the imitator ? or from what 
 common centre are all these common notions derived ? ' 
 
 Lord Lytton has suggested, in his ' Strange Story,' that the 
 wood of certain trees to which magical properties are ascribed 
 may in truth possess virtues little understood, and deserving 
 of careful investigation. The rowan would take its place 
 among these, as would the common hazel, from which the 
 miner's divining rod is always cut. The use of this ' baguette 
 divinatoire,' as it is called by Vallemont, who towards the 
 end of the seventeenth century wrote an elaborate treatise on 
 it, was by no means confined to the search for veins of metal, 
 or for water. It assisted" in the pursuit of criminals ; and 
 VaUemont gives the ' histoire surprenant d'un paysan, qui, 
 guid6 par la baguette divinatoire, a poursuivi un meurtrier 
 durant plus de 45 Keues sur terre, et plus de 30 lieues en 
 
CUCKOO FLOWEES. 85 
 
 met.' The hazel is so far connected with the elves that, 
 according to the Cornish miners, the rod is guided to the 
 mine by the pixies, — ^for all the treasures of the earth are 
 in their keeping, — and many a rich lode has been discovered 
 by the songs of the small people heard on the moors at night- 
 fell. In some parts of Germany the call of the cuckoo is 
 thought to disclose mines ; and certain plants — the cuckoo's 
 'bread,' the 'cuckoo flower' (the latter is the large purple 
 orchis very common in England), are believed to grow in 
 most luxuriance where the depths of the earth are rich in 
 metal. The cuckoo has always been one of the chief birds of 
 augury, and many flowers which appear nearly at the same 
 time with it have received its name and a certain share of its 
 prophetical character. One of these was perhaps the plan- 
 tain, or waybread, said to have been once a maiden, who, 
 watching by the wayside for her lover, was changed into the 
 plant which still loves to fix itself beside the beaten path. 
 Once in seven years it becomes a bird, — either the cuckoo or 
 the cuckoo's servant, the ' dinnick,' as it is called in Devon- 
 shire, the German ' Wiedhopf,' which is said to follow its 
 master everywhere.* 
 
 Although it is not impossible that almost every plant which 
 the old herbahsts record as bearing the name of some saint, 
 or as distinguished by some specially religious epithet, might 
 be traced back, if we had the means, to the days of heathen- 
 ism, there are many of which we have only the later 
 ' canonization,' and which we must accept as the more direct 
 representatives of the monastic garden and herbary. How 
 amply these were stocked, and with how many of the plants 
 most famous in ancient leechcraft, is evident from a glance at 
 the very curious plans of the great monastery of St. Gall, 
 drawn up, it is said, by Eginhard, toward the end of the 
 
 * Grimm, D. Myth., p. 787. The latter part of the belief is a 
 piece of Devonshire folk-lore. 
 
86 SACKED TEEES AND FLOWEES. 
 
 eighth century.* In these, every bed in the garden is marked 
 out, and the name of the herb with which it should be filled 
 carefully inserted. It was, no doubt, from their great virtues 
 as ' all heals,' or ' singular wound herbs,' that such names as 
 angelica ' and ' archangel ' were bestowed on the plants that 
 still bear them. The ' herba benedicta,' ' herb bennet,' the 
 ' blessed' herb (Geum urbanum) was a remedy for nearly all 
 diseases under the sun. Its graceful trefoiled leaf, and the 
 five golden petals of its blossoms, symbolizing the Holy Trinity 
 and the five wounds of our Lord, early attracted the attention 
 of the artist-monk ; and toward the end of the thirteenth 
 century the plant frequently occurs as an architectural deco- 
 ration, sometimes in patterns on the walls, and sometimes in 
 the leafage encircling pier capitals. The vervain (verbena)) 
 called the ' holy herb,' should perhaps have been placed in 
 the former division, since it was, according to Pliny, one 
 of the sacred plants of the Druids, and was gathered by them 
 with all manner of mystic ceremonies. It is not easy to see 
 why its slender spikes of grey flowers should have been held 
 in such repute, unless the old rhyme, itself half a charm, gives 
 us the reason : — 
 
 ' Hail to thee, holy herb ! 
 
 Growing on the ground 
 On the Mount of Olivet 
 
 First wert thou found. 
 Thou art good for many an iU, 
 
 And healest many a wound ; 
 In the name of sweet Jesu 
 
 I lift thee from the ground.' 
 
 The trefoil, or ' Herb Trinity,' has an especial interest from 
 the use which, as tradition asserts, was made of it by St. 
 Patrick (although the story is to be found in none of the 
 lives — not even the latest and most legendary — ^printed by 
 
 * These plans were first published by Mabillon, in the Annates 
 Ord. Benedict., and have been made the subject of a very interesting 
 paper by Professor Willis, in the Archceological Journal. Vol. 5. 
 
THE SHAMEOCK. 87 
 
 Colgan), as an illustration of the divine mystery. The leaf 
 which is now generally recognized as the Irish emblem is 
 that of the white clover, but the name shamrock (seamrog) 
 seems to be generic, and is applied also to the purple clover, 
 the speedwell, the pimpernel, and the wood-sorrel. The leaf 
 of the Herb Trinity is of course ' noisome to witches.' The 
 veronica, or small speedwell, one of the plants to which the 
 name shamrock is ' given, was also effective against evil 
 spells, and its bright blue flowers were thought to display, in 
 their form and markings, a representation of the kerchief of 
 St. Veronica, impressed with the features of our Lord. Many 
 other flowers received the names of saints for less definite 
 reasons, but partly, perhaps, because they blossomed about 
 the time of the saint's festival, and partly because they were 
 found in plenty about the place which contained his shrine. 
 Although the ' Canterbury bells ' which abound in the Kentish 
 woods have only an indirect connection with St. Thomas, — 
 having been so called from the small horse-bells of the 
 pilgrims, which they resembled in shape,— the small red 
 pink {Dianthus proUfer), found wild in the neighbourhood of 
 Rochester, is perhaps the original ' sweet Saint William,' 
 for the word ' Saint ' has only been dropped since days which 
 saw the demolition of St. William's shrine in the cathedral. 
 This, however, is but a conjecture, and we must be content to 
 remain uncertain whether the masses of bright flowers which 
 form one of the chief glories of old-fashioned gardens com- 
 memorate St. William of Rochester, St. William of York, or 
 — likeliest, perhaps, of the three — St. William of Acquitaine, 
 the half-soldier, half-monk, whose fame was so widely spread 
 throughout the south of Europe. 
 
 The charm and tranquillity of the monastic garden — a world 
 of peaceful beauty often set down in the midst of the wildest 
 woods and mountains — ^have been worthily dwelt upon by M. 
 de Montalembert, the pleasantest and most eloquent, if in 
 
88 SACRED TEEES AND FLOWEES. 
 
 some respects the most one-sided, of the many advocates who 
 of late years have taken in hand the cause of the monks. 
 To the Benedictines and Cistercians — ^the first great agricul- 
 turists of Europe, and the first great gardeners, the true 
 predecessors of the Hendersons and Veitches of our own day 
 — ^we are indebted for many of the old well-loved flowers 
 that will always keep their places in spite of their gayer but 
 less permanent modern rivals. The wall-flower that ' scents 
 the dewy air ' about the ruined arches of its convent, the 
 scarlet anemone, that flowers about Eastertide, and is called 
 in Palestine the ' blood-drops of Christ,' the blossoming 
 almond-tree, one of the symbols of the Virgin, and the 
 marygold, that received her name, are but a few of the old 
 friends, brought long ago from Syria by some pilgrim monk, 
 and spread from his garden over the whole of Europe. 
 Within those quiet walls the brother Pacificus of his monastery 
 found material for the studies of leaf, flower, and insect with 
 which to decorate the borders of his missals and breviaries ; 
 and the sculptor could there arrange his wreaths of white 
 lilies, or his branches of ' herb bennet,' before transferring 
 them in stone to the capitals of the neighbouring church : — 
 
 ' Nor herb nor floVret glistened there 
 But was carved in the cloister arches as fair.' 
 
 In the cloister garden, too, the monk was wont to meditate 
 on the marvels of the plants that surrounded him, and to 
 find all manner of mysterious emblems in their marks and 
 tracings. Many plants displayed the true figure of the 
 cross. It might be seen in the centre of the red poppy ; and 
 there was a ' zucca ' (fig) at Rome, in the garden of the Cis- 
 tercian convent of Santa Potentiana, the fruit of which, when 
 cut through, showed a green cross inlaid on the white pulp, 
 and having at its angles five seeds, representing the five 
 wounds. This mysterious fig is described and figured by 
 Bosio, who compares it to the ' Crocefisso de la cepa ' at 
 
THE PASSION FLOWEE. 89 
 
 Valladolid, a representation of our Lord on the cross, formed 
 naturally, though ' mirabilmente,' by the twisted growth of 
 a vine root.* The banana, in the Canaries, is never cut with 
 a knife, because it also exhibits a representation of the cruci- 
 tixion, just as the fern-root shows an oak-tree. But the fame 
 of the greatest of all such marvels arrived at Rome in the 
 year 1609, whilst Bosio was labouring over his ponderous 
 folio on the ' Triumphs of the Cross ' ; and he pauses ac- 
 cordingly, half doubtful whether he ought to say anything 
 about the ' stupendo e maraviglioso fiore ' of which he had 
 been told, seeing that it was a matter almost too ' mostruosa 
 e straordinaria ' for belief; but quite unwilling to omit all 
 notice of it, especially as he was daily receiving new con- 
 firmation of its wonders. The ' maraviglioso fiore ' was the 
 Passion flower of the New World. 
 
 Drawings and descriptions of the Passion flower were 
 published for the flrst time, in both Spain and Italy, in 
 1609. Bosio's chief authority was Father Emmanuello de 
 Villegas, an Augustinian monk, and a native of Mexico, who 
 was at this time visiting Rome. But Father Emmanuel's 
 wonderful account had been confirmed, we are assured, by 
 many personages ' di qualitk e di gravitk,' who had travelled 
 in New Spain, and especially by certain Mexican Jesuits. It 
 would seem, says Bosio, that in this wonderful and mysterious 
 ' flower of the five wounds ' {' flor de las cinco Uagas '), as the 
 Spaniards called it, the Creator of the world had chosen to 
 represent the principal emblems of His Son's Passion ; so 
 that in due season it might assist, when its marvels should be 
 explained to them, in the conversion of the heathen people in 
 whose country it grew. He goes on to describe the flower 
 
 * ' Ha nel viso non sb che del Divino ; ed una Maest^ tanto 
 venerabile, e tremedida, ch' empie subito di riapetto, di timore e 
 divotione, i cuori di ohiunque ne gli ocohi vuol sissargli U guardo.' 
 Bosio, La Trionfcmte e Gloriosa Croce. Roma, 1610. 
 
90 SACBED TBEES AND FLOWEBS. 
 
 as follows : — The upper petals are tawny (' di color leonato ') 
 in Peru ; in New Spain they are white, tinged with rose 
 colour. The fringe-like filaments above are blood-red ; ' as 
 though referring to the scourge with which our Lord was 
 beaten.' In the midst of the flower rises the column to which 
 He was bound ; and above are the nails, both of a ' clear 
 green.' Above, again, is the crown of thorns, surrounded by 
 a kind of veil of threads — seventy-two in number — (the tra- 
 ditional number of the thorns on our Lord's crown), coloured 
 like a peacock's feather (' di color pavonazzo'). In the centre 
 of the flower, and under the column, are five marks or 
 spots, of a blood colour, ' clearly representing the five chief 
 wounds that Christ received on the cross.' The plant, he 
 continues, is rich in leaves, which in shape resemble the iron 
 of a pike or lance-head, and refer to that with which our 
 Lord's side was pierced. At nightfall the flower closes en- 
 tirely ; and in the day it only half unfolds itself, keeping 
 always the form of a bell, so that the mysteries so wonderfully 
 enclosed in it cannot be generally seen. Bosio, however, 
 thought proper to draw it fuUy opened, ' per gusto de' pii 
 lettori ' — who would thus have the comfort of contemplating 
 in the flower the ' profound marvels of its, and of our own. 
 Creator.' The close shrouding of the flower, he suggests, 
 may have been designed by Infinite Wisdom as an indication 
 that the mysteries of the cross were not to be revealed to the 
 heathen people of those countries until such time as it seemed 
 good to Him. 
 
 Bosio had never, of course, seen the flower; and the figure 
 of it in his book is as direct a representation of the emblems 
 of the Passion as might be found in any Italian church. 
 Similar engravings were published in the same year in Spain 
 and at Bologna, where ' molti spiriti elevati ' celebrated the 
 marvellous discovery by many ingenious compositions and 
 ' va,ghe poesie.' Judging from the drawings and descriptions 
 
THE PASSION FLOWEE. 91 
 
 of the monks who first brought the account to Europe, Bosio 
 was fully justified in asserting that ' no more marvellous or 
 stupendous flower was ever seen before, nor ever will be 
 seen by any one.' In Italy it at once received the name of 
 ' Fior della Passione,' which it has ever since borne ; but 
 soon after Bosio's folio had been published the plant itself 
 was brought to Rome, where it flowered for the first time 
 in the gardens of Cardinal Odoardo Farnese. Aldinus, the 
 keeper of those famous gardens, which then probably con- 
 tained a greater number of rare plants than any others in 
 Europe, published in 1625 a thin folio, with very beautiful 
 and accurate engravings of their principal rarities.* Among 
 these is the Passion flower, to which he gives its native name 
 of ' Maracot.' It had been celebrated, he says, by poets and 
 orators ; philosophers had investigated its marvels ; doctors 
 and leeches had commended it ; the sick eagerly sought after 
 it ; theologians wondered at it, and pious Christians vener- 
 ated it. But a more accurate description of it was much 
 needed. Aldinus figures it accordingly with great care and 
 with perfect accuracy ; and then, setting aside former exag- 
 gerations, he proceeds to show what theologians may really 
 find in the plant. The nails at the top are so perfectly 
 expressed that the resemblance could hardly be increased. 
 In the open flower they are twisted, and marked with black 
 spots, as if with blood. The rudiment of the fruit, at the 
 bottom of the ovary, may be compared to the sponge offered 
 to our Lord upon the cross. The star form of the half-opened 
 flower may represent the star of the Magi ; but the five 
 petals, opened, the five wounds. The base of the ovary is 
 the column. The filaments are the scourges spotted with 
 blood ; and the purple circle which marks them is the crown 
 
 * ' Exactissima descriptio rarioram quarundam plantarum, quae 
 continentur Eomse, in Horto Famesiano ; Tobia Aldino Cesenate 
 auctore.' Romss, 1625. 
 
92 SACRED TEEES AND FLOWERS. 
 
 of thorns. The white petals represent the purity and bright^ 
 ness of OUT Lord, and His white robe. The under leaves 
 {cor niculata folia,), white iaside and green without, figure the 
 hope and purity with which each one of the faithful should 
 embrace and consider the mysteries of the Passion. The 
 green leaves of the plant spring from it singly, for there is 
 one God ; but are triply divided, for there are three Persons. 
 The plant itself would climb towards heaven, but cannot do 
 so without support ; so the Christian, whose nature it is to 
 climb, requires Divine help to sustain him. The plant, if cut 
 down, will spring up again ; so whoever holds the mysteries 
 of the Passion in his heart, will receive no hurt from the 
 world. Its fruit is sweet and delectable ; and the Passion of 
 our Lord has brought sweet and delectable fruit to us. So, 
 according to Aldinus, this wonderful plant may be explained. 
 But after all, he cannot see so much mystery in it, ' nisi per 
 vim '; for the chief emblem, the cross, does not appear ; and 
 there is no lance. 
 
 The first to describe and to figure the Passion flower in 
 England was Parkiason, in his ' Paradisus Terrestris,' pub- 
 lished in 1629. A distinct species, the incamata of Linnseus, 
 seems to have been brought to England from Virginia, about 
 the same time as others were introduced at Rome ; and Par- 
 kinson, who calls this ' brave plant ' the ' surpassing delight of 
 all flowers,' describes its flowers as ' making a tripartite show 
 of colours, most delightfull,' and 'of a comfortabell sweet 
 scent, very acceptabell.' His figure is very accurate ; and 
 he has set beside it the first stiff drawing, copied from Bosio, 
 so that the errors of the 'superstitious Jesuite' might be 
 clear to all men. Master Parkinson apparently preferred 
 that the honours of the plant should be assigned to that 
 ' bright occidental star,' Queen Elizabeth, and named it, in 
 memory of her, the ' Virgin climber.' But, in spite of his 
 loyalty, the Passion flower has retained its original name and 
 
THE PASSION FLOWEB. 93 
 
 significance. It is the one great contribution of the Western 
 hemisphere to the symbolical flowers of Christendom ; and 
 its starlike blossoms have taken a worthy place- beside the 
 mystical roses and trefoils of ecclesiastical decoration; never 
 more appropriately than in the ironwork of the beautiful 
 choir-screens at Lichfield and at Hereford. 
 
III. 
 
 THE DOGS OF POLK-LOEE, HISTOET, AND EOMANCE.' 
 
 '/^Nn'a dans la vie qu'un chien,' writes M. Alphonse Karr, 
 ^-^ ' comme on n'a qu'un amour.' Those who are sufficiently 
 hardened to dispute the second proposition will probably 
 extend their scepticism to the first ; but there is a sense in 
 which it is undoubtedly true that a man may have but one 
 dog belonging to him, although he must perhaps, first of all, 
 become a hero. Sir Tristrem may have possessed many a 
 ' good greyhound ' besides Hodain ; but only Hodain's name 
 has floated down the stream of tradition and romance in close 
 association with that of his master. The canine ' following ' 
 of Sir Walter Scott was throughout his life an extensive one. 
 The names of many good creatures are preserved in Lock- 
 hart's delightful pages ; but it is only Maida whose figure is 
 really familiar to us, and who, ' der leiblung hund von Walter 
 Scott,' appears on the lids of German snufi-boxes and on the 
 image-trays of wandering Italians. Certain dogs are thus 
 raised into celebrity by the side of their masters ; and a long 
 catalogue of such canine worthies might easily be recorded, 
 whose merits have perhaps been too much neglected. Num- 
 berless are the excellent and. virtuous animals whose good 
 deeds are celebrated in collections of canine anecdotes, and 
 in essays on canine instinct. We say not a word in their 
 dispraise. They may possibly have been better members of 
 society than many of the dogs whose names have been sung 
 by poets and recorded in history. The wheel of Fortune 
 * Quarterly Review, January, 1861. 
 
THE DOGS OF FOLK-LOKE. 95 
 
 may be as capricious ia its revolutions, and the trump of Fame 
 send forth its blasts with as uncertain justice in the world 
 of canine society, as in that of mortal men. Dogs, like their 
 masters, may sometimes be elevated into heroes with but 
 slender reason. Many a terrier and many a hound whose 
 lives are passed in obscure retirement may be as worthy as 
 Hodain or Petipru : — 
 
 ' We trust we have wittin this realm 
 Five hundred good as they ; ' 
 
 but ' carent vate sacro.' No poet has sung them, and no 
 historian has chronicled their deeds. Their virtue must 
 remain its own reward. Our business is with those dogs 
 who, with whatever justice, have attained the summit of 
 renown : though we propose, whilst glancing on our way at 
 the history of the race — ^to dwell at greater length on what in 
 effect is too closely connected with that history to be alto- 
 gether separated from it — ^the position of the canine race in 
 the mysterious world of ' folk-lore.' 
 
 Whilst animals ' ferae naturae ' — the true ' wild deer ' of 
 forest and mountain — ^take their places in this shadowy region 
 in accordance with their most conspicuous qualities, and are 
 represented as either entirely good or entirely bad — ^ill- 
 omened or the reverse — it is remarkable that the domesticated 
 animals, and especially the horse and the dog, which in all 
 ages have been the close companions of man, are made, both 
 in legend and romance, to partake as it were of the mixed 
 nature of man himself, and appear sometimes in close con- 
 nection with the hosts of evil, and at others, not less con- 
 spicuously, as supporters of all that is good. Between such a 
 demon steed as carried off the Witch of Berkeley, and the 
 snow-white charger on which St. lago sometimes showed 
 himself at the head of the Spanish chivalry, it would not be 
 difficult to trace the connecting links of a long chain, toward 
 the centre of which we should place the Phouka of Ireland — 
 
96 THE DOGS OF FOLK-LOEE. 
 
 the sea-horse, half-mischievous, half-playful, occupying the 
 same place in animal folk-lore that the mischievous elves do 
 in the world of spirits. In the same manner the cat descends 
 from the Egyptian divinity — the moon-eyed Pasht or Bubastis, 
 through the ingenious friend of M. de Carabas, and the 
 worthy companion of Whittington, to Rutterkin — the sable 
 familiar who disported himself among the strawberry beds of 
 old Agnes Flower, the famous witch of Suffolk. But as, of 
 all domestic animals, the dog has always been most closely 
 the friend and companion of man, it is in his history, and in 
 the folk-lore connected with him, that the greatest variations 
 occur, and that the two characters may be most distinctly 
 traced.* 
 
 Throughout the East, where the dog wanders in troops, 
 neglected and savage, his name has been a term of reproach 
 from very early, if not the earliest times. We are all familiar 
 with this application of it in the Sacred Writings ; in which, 
 indeed, the dog is always regarded as an animal mysteriously 
 unclean. The worst points of canine nature are brought into 
 strong relief among the packs of gaunt, wolf-like hounds which 
 prowl through the streets and under the walls of every Eastern 
 city, and ' make night hideous ' with their howling. Thus 
 encountered, the dog is in truth no very attractive creature ; 
 and seems fully entitled to the unenviable position he occupies 
 in Oriental metaphor. Yet the nobler qualities of the dog — 
 his fidelity and sagacity — must have been recognized from the 
 first. In all the Indo-European languages, his name, like 
 those of the cow, the sheep, and the horse, belongs to the most 
 primitive class of roots ; a sufficient proof that he must have 
 
 * The derivation of the word ' dog ' is quite unknown. No expla- 
 nation of it has been suggested which can be said to be even probable. 
 This is the more remarkable because the word does not occur earlier 
 than the thirteenth century, and has always been coniined to England. 
 The Anglo-Saxon 'blind'' has its congeners in all the Teutonic and 
 Scandinavian languages. 
 
HISTOET AND EOMANCE. 97 
 
 been one of the domesticated animals of the great Aryan 
 family in the primeval period, before the dispersion of its 
 several branches and the consequent formation of new 
 dialects. There is, indeed, one very ancient story which 
 occurs under slightly varying forms in the folk-lore of the 
 most widely separated countries and races, and which, in all 
 probabiKty, belonged in its original shape to the same remote 
 period. This is the story which, in its Welsh version, 
 records the services and unhappy end of the faithful hoand 
 Gelert ; whose last ' bed ' — ' Beth Gelert ' — ^may be seen in the 
 shape of a long green mound by the traveller who descends 
 the vale of Gwynant in Caernarvonshire. Mr. Dasent, in the 
 very interesting introduction prefixed to his collection of 
 - Norse legends, has pointed out (as, indeed, Douce in his 
 Shakspearian notes had done before him) the great antiquity 
 of the story of Gelert ; and has traced it upwards through 
 the Latin ' Gesta Romanorum,' the Arabic original of the 
 ' Seven Wise Masters,' and Bidpai's fables, to the Hitopadesa 
 and the Pancha-Tantra. But it is, perhaps, hardly possible 
 to insist on this story in proof of the primitive recognition 
 of canine virtue ; since, although a dog is its hero in aU its 
 western forms, he is not found in the two most ancient ver- 
 sions. In the Hitopadesa, the infant's guardian, whose own 
 life faUs a sacrifice to his fidelity, is an otter : in the Pancha- 
 Tantra, a mangouete. With a passing recognition of Gelert, 
 therefore, as one of the best and worthiest of his race, we 
 must be content to find our earUest proof that canine merit 
 and canine society were duly appreciated in the East, in 
 those models of favourite dogs — ^the ancient pets of Senna- 
 cherib and Esarhaddon — which have been frequently brought 
 to light during the excavations of the Assyrian palaces. Some 
 of these from the htmting-palace of Esarhaddon at Nineveh 
 may be seen in the British Museum ; and show us a large- 
 headed dog of the St. Bernard character, with the tail curled 
 
 7 
 
98 THE DOGS OP FOLK-LOEE, 
 
 upwards over his back. A collar of leaves, or of leather or 
 metal wrought into the form of leaves, is sometimes about the 
 neck ; and the name of the dog, generally a word indicative 
 of its hunting prowess, is inscribed on the model. Such were 
 the old-world hounds whom the king delighted to honour : the 
 earliest existing illustrations of canine favouritism; unless, 
 indeed, we are prepared to accept as a portrait of a still more 
 primitive pet the rough Isle of Skye terrier which lies curled 
 up at the feet of Adam and Eve in Breughel's delightful 
 representation of Paradise, now in the Academy at Brussels. 
 
 In ancient Egypt the dog was as completely the companion 
 of man, and as much a favourite in the house, as he is among 
 ourselves at present. The chief domestic favourite was a 
 short-legged dog not unlike our own turnspit ; and especially 
 conspicuous in waU-paintings of the time of Osirtasen ; the 
 choice of which monarch, as Sir Gardner Wilkinson suggests, 
 may, as in later days, have led the taste of the time to fix on 
 a particular breed. The dog was one of the sacred animals 
 of Egypt ; and was specially reverenced in the nome of 
 OjTiopolis, where, on the death of a dog, the members of the 
 household to which he had belonged carefully shaved their 
 whole bodies, and religiously abstained from using the food, 
 of whatever kind, which happened to be in the house at the 
 time. The dog was embalmed throughout Egypt ; and every 
 town had its place of interment for canine mummies. , Thus 
 he may be allowed to pass among the 'brutish gods of Nile'; 
 but Milton has erred, in common with aU the Greek and 
 Latin writers, in his allusion to the ' dog Anubis ': the peculiar 
 type of which deity was the jackal, and not the dog.* 
 
 The contrast between ancient Egypt, where the dog was 
 
 everywhere admitted"as a household companion, and modern, 
 
 where the Moslem prejudice against him is in fuU operation, 
 
 and where to salute your enemy as ' a Jew's dog,' the lowest 
 
 * Wilkinson's Ancient Egypt, 2nd series, vol. ii. p. 144. 
 
HIST0E7 AND EOMANOE. 99 
 
 canine caste, is the very climax of insult, is sufficiently marked. 
 But even the Mahommedans, whilst they shrink from his 
 touch as defilement, are compelled to recognise the courage 
 and fidelity of the dog. The name given in Arabian romance 
 to the champion of heroic times, ' Mubariz,' * the single com- 
 batant,' is also applied to the canine hero who, sometimes, 
 during the fights which take place among the dogs of Cairo 
 or Medinah, 'when one side has given way, rushes back 
 among the victors, to give his flying friends time to recover 
 heart.'* The singular manner in which the dogs of the latter 
 city divide themselves into two parties, and the skill with 
 which they conduct their battles, are the subjects of constant 
 remark among the Arabs : who, like the races of Northern 
 Europe, look upon the dog as possessed of a mysterious power 
 of discerning the supernatural. He can see the form of 
 Azrael, the angel of death, hovering over the doomed abode, 
 and predicts the coming stroke by his howling. The dog^ 
 himself, however, is lifted into the region of the supernatural 
 by no less an authority than the KorAn. Three animals, and 
 only three, are admitted to share the joys and the repose of 
 Mahommed's paradise : — the camel on which the prophet rode 
 during his famous flight from Mecca ; the ass of Balaam ; and 
 Kitmer, the dog of the Seven Sleepers, who with his masters 
 entered the cave in which year after year they lay wrapped 
 in mysterious slumber, who fell asleep with them, and who, with 
 them, was at last raised to receive the reward of his care and 
 fidelity, t The Mahommedan legend asserts that, as the seven 
 
 * Burton. El-Medmah, ii. 53. 
 
 t Kor6m,, chap, xviii. 'The Cave.' The Christian tradition, from 
 which Mahommed borrowed his version, will be found, with some 
 very graphic details, in the ' Aurea Legenda' of Jacques de Voraigne. 
 According to it, the sleepers were Christian youths of Ephesus, who 
 fled to the cave to avoid the persecution of the Emperor Decius. 
 Their dog is a purely Arabian addition. It is perhaps worth remark- 
 ing that another tradition of Ephesus asserted that St. John the 
 Evangelist, who was buried there, was only asleep in the tomb which 
 
100 THE DOGS OF FOLK-LOEE, 
 
 youths were on their way to the cavern in which they 
 intended to take refuge from their heathen persecutor, they 
 passed Kitmer, and attempted to drive him away; upon 
 which ' God caused him to speak : and he said, " I love those 
 tvho are dear unto Grod j go to sleep, therefore, and I will 
 guard you." ' So Kitmer ' stretched forth his forelegs in the 
 mouth of the cave,' and during his sleep of three hundred 
 years turned himself from side to side like his masters, ' lest 
 their lying so long on the ground should consume their flesh,' 
 The utmost stretch of covetousness is expressed in the East 
 by a saying that the miser ' would not throw a bone to the 
 dog of the Seven Sleepers '; whose name, written on letters 
 which have to cross tbe sea, acts as a talisman to preserve 
 them from miscarriage. The especial rewards prepared for 
 Kitmer in the paradise of the Prophet are unfortunately not 
 recorded ; but it is satisfactory to know that this good creature, 
 before disappearing from the region of middle earth, had 
 taken measures for leaving a progeny behind him, by which 
 his size and his virtues are still represented. According to 
 Turkish tradition, Kitmer was a ' Samslin,' or shepherd's dog, 
 as large as an ass. His direct descendants are greatly prized 
 by the wanderuig race's of Turkestan and the great pasture 
 steppes of Central Asia ; and Evhya Efifendi, the Turkish 
 traveller of the seventeenth century, asserts that, in the three 
 days' procession of trades which passed before the Sultan at 
 
 he had prepared for himself; and that the earth above his grave 
 moved with his respiration. (Augustine, Tract, in Joomn.) 
 
 The story of the Seven Sleepers was localized in more than one 
 country. Paul the Deacon {de Gestis Langobwrd. i. 4) asserts that 
 the ' Seven Sleepers of Germany' lie in a cave under a lofty rock on 
 the sea-shore. Their dress is Koman, and continues uninjured by 
 time. The arms and hands of one who wished to steal their clothes 
 withered away. (So the Caliph Mo§,wiyah sent men into the cave at 
 Ephesus, who were struck dead by a burning wind.) ' Fortasse ' con- 
 cludes Paulus Diaconus, 'horum quandoque (quia non aliter nisi 
 Christiani esse putantur), gentes illse prsedicatione salvandae sunt.' 
 
HISTOEY AND EOMANCE. 101 
 
 Constantinople, Kitmer's representatives, 'of the size of asses, 
 and fierce as lions from Africa,' were led along ' in double or 
 triple chains,' covered with trappings of rich cloth, and wear- 
 ing silver coEars and ' neck-rings.' ' They assail,' says Evliya, 
 ' not only the wolves which enter the stables and folds, but 
 dragons also .... they go into the fire .... and chase 
 the eagle in the air, and the crocodile in the river. They 
 perform everything they are told to perform ; and if bid to 
 do so, will bring down a man from horseback, however stout 
 a fellow he may be.' ' The shepherds,' he concludes, ' look 
 on them as their companions and brethren, and do not object 
 to eat out of the same dish with them.'* 
 
 ' The Greeks,' says Mr. Raskin, ' seem hardly to have done 
 justice to the dog. My pleasure in the entire Odyssey is 
 diminished because Ulysses gives not a word of kindness nor 
 of regret to Argus. 't Not a word : but had the ingenious 
 author of ' Modern Painters ' forgotten what he did give him ? 
 
 * .-. . a{iTd,p 6 voff^iv ISibv iirofni p^aro SdKpv 
 Peia \a6iiv ^H/miov , . . 
 
 ' Odysseus saw, and turned aside 
 To wipe away the tear ; 
 From Eumeeus he chose his grief to hide.. . . . .' J 
 
 The pathos of the scene is, in our judgment, greatly deepened 
 
 * Tra/oels of Evliya Effendi (trans, by Von Hammer for the Oriental 
 Translation Fund), vol. i. p. 145. Evliya himself was a true Mahom- 
 medan, and regarded the dog with no great respect. ' Although,' he 
 says, 'a sheep brings forth but one a year, yet are all mountains 
 covered with them. Meanwhile, it is a strange thing that dogs and 
 swine have every year many young, so that one would believe that 
 the world would be filled with them ; yet God blesses the sheep, 
 "because it gets up early and breathes the wind of divine mercy. The 
 swine, on the contrary, turns up the earth with its snout the whole 
 night, and sleeps through the day. The dog likewise barks the whole 
 night, and in the morning, with its tail between its feet, lies down to 
 sleep. Therefore, the young of dogs and swine never reach a long 
 life. This is a wonderful effect of the wisdom of God.' Id., p. 148, 
 
 t Modern Pamtera, vol. v. 
 
 t Maginn'a Homeric Ballads ■ ' The Dog Argus.' 
 
102 THE DOGS OP I-OLK-LOEB, 
 
 by the fact that Ulysses could not possibly give his well- 
 remembered hound ' a word of kindness or regret,' without 
 the risk of his own instant recognition by Eumseus. There is 
 no ' chose to hide ' in the original. The son of Laertes had, 
 in fact, no choice in the matter. The dog, it is true, is but 
 rarely noticed, and seldom favourably, by the later Grreeks ; 
 but this one picture — the most ancient canine portrait in 
 literature — ^is also perhaps the finest. Certainly the entire 
 passage is one of the most touching in Homer. ' The words, 
 too, are so calm and still — tbey seem to grow faint and fainter ; 
 — each foot of the verse falls as if it were counting out the last 
 respiration ; and in effect we -witness that last slight and 
 fluttering breath with which life is yielded up : — 
 
 "'Apyov S'o8 /cari McXp' (Xa^fUXavos 6avi,Tou> 
 AMk 'ISovt' 'OSuff^a eaKoar^ eVtawip." ' * 
 
 Dr. Maginn,Vho gave a translation of this famous passage 
 among his 'Homeric Ballads,' compares with it, of course 
 greatly to Southey's disadvantage, the lines from ' Roderick ' 
 which describe the recognition of the repentant Gothic king 
 by his hoTmd Theron. ' Roderick ' is now but little read, and 
 the passage is worth extracting : — 
 
 ' While thus Hoiinda spake, the dog who lay 
 Before Rusilla's feet, eyeing him long 
 And wistfully, had recognised at length, 
 Changed as he was, and in those sordid weeds, 
 ' His royal master. And he rose and licked 
 His withered hand, and earnestly looked up 
 With eyes whose human meaning did not need 
 The aid of speech ; and moaned, as if at once 
 To court and chide the long withheld caress. 
 A f eeUng, uncommixed with sense of guilt 
 Or sham.e, yet painfullest, thrilled through the King ; 
 But he, to self-control now long inured, 
 Eeprest his rising heart, nor other tears, 
 Full as his struggling bosom was, let fall, 
 Than seemed to foUow on Plorinda's words. 
 
 * Gladstone's Homer, iii 410. 
 
HISTORY AND BOMANOE. 103 
 
 Looking toward her then, yet so that still 
 He shunned the meeting of her eye, he said, 
 " Virtuous and pious as thou art, and ripe 
 For Heaven, O Lady ! I will think the man 
 Hath not by his good angel been cast off 
 For whom thy supplications rise 
 
 Thus haying said. 
 Deliberately, in self-possession stiU, 
 Himself from that most painful interview 
 Dispeeding, he withdrew. The watchful dog 
 Followed his footsteps close. But he retired 
 Into the thickest grove ; there yielding way 
 To his o'erburthened nature, from all eyes 
 Apart, he cast himself upon the ground. 
 And threw his arms around the dog, and cried. 
 While tears streamed down, "Thou, Theron, then, hast known 
 Thy poor lost master, .... Theron, none but thou !"' 
 
 The hound Theron and the man Boderick, we may admit, 
 with the learned Doctor, to be far inferior to the hound Argus 
 and the man Ulysses. But we cannot allow that canine 
 instinct is always instantaneous, and that Southey's picture of 
 the dog eying his master ' long and wistfully ' is, therefore, a 
 false one. No one who has been accustomed to good canine 
 society will doubt that this gradual recognition is quite as 
 true and as natural as the immediate discovery of the shep- 
 herd of the people by Argus, ' m? ivorfffev ^OZvcrcrka iyyb^ 
 eovTa ' ; although the latter may possibly indicate a stronger 
 and more noble nature. 
 
 Passing from the old world of Southern Europe to the fresh 
 and free life of the North, we find ourselves at once in the 
 company of those stately deerhounds which rank with the 
 noblest and most intelligent of dogs, and which a Welsh triad 
 classes among the three ' signs of a gentleman ' — the other 
 two being his horse and his hawk. Sir Walter Scott delighted 
 to point out how Maida — 'the most famous of all those dogs, 
 although his descent was scarcely irreproachable — ^would 
 
104 THE DOGS OF FOLK-LOEE, 
 
 station himself, in the pursuit of game or on the look-out for 
 it, just at those points of the landscape -where his figure ' told ' 
 most picturesquely ; suddenly appearing at the entrance of 
 some narrow glen, or ' detaching ' himself against the sky on 
 the crest of some long ridge of heather. It is indeed impos- 
 sible to imagine a creature more completely in harmony with 
 the hunting-ground of the old North- — deep forests, with their 
 endless ' shade of melancholy boughs ' — grey tracldess moor- 
 lands — or long mountain ranges, with their glens, and tor- 
 rents, and precipices ; and the picture of King Arthur's hunt 
 over the heaths of Tintagel, or among the woods of Oaerlion, 
 would scarcely have been complete had the romance-writers 
 failed to supply the ' clear-faced king ' with such a follower as 
 Cavall — the ' hound of deepest mouth,' for whose baying, as 
 the Laureate teUs us, Guenever listened as she halted with 
 Geraint on the knoU above the water of Usk. Very famous 
 was Cavall, and numberless his " deeds of ' derring do ' in 
 pursuit of wolf, boar, and red deer. Whilst hunting the 
 ' wild boar of Troynt,' Cavall left the print of his paw on a 
 certain rock, which afterwards became as famous throughout 
 Breconshire as St. Mildred's footprint in the Isle of Thanet, 
 or the hoofmark of Mahommed's camel at Mecca. King 
 Arthur caused a heap of stones to be piled about the rock — 
 itself a loose fragment ; — ^for, said the legend, if it were carried 
 off to any distance, it was sure to be found in its old place on 
 the following morning. One of the Breconshire mountains, 
 near the little town of Rhayader Gwy, is still known as ' Carn 
 Cavall'; and Lady Charlotte Guest, in illustration of the 
 remarkable ' Mabinogi ' of Killwch and Olwen, which pre- 
 serves the fiill story of the boar of Troynt, has engraved a 
 stone from one of the cairns with which the summit of the 
 mountain is covered, marked by an oval indentation so closely 
 resembling the print of a dog's paw as to compel every worthy 
 student of romance to recognise it as a relic of King Arthur's 
 
HISTOEY AND EOMANCE. 105 
 
 hound.* Whether Gavall himself was subsequently laid to 
 rest under this cairn, or whether he followed his master to the 
 enchanted Isle of Avalon, is left uncertain. At any rate he 
 was not less worthy of admission to an ' equal sky ' with his 
 lord than Gorban, the white hound of the Welsh bard 
 Ummad, who, in the lament which he poured forth for his old 
 companion in the chase, declares that they would meet again, 
 dog and master, ' on the clouds of their rest.' This, which 
 was the belief of both Celt and Northman, led to the interment 
 of his faTourite dog in the chieftain's tomb ; and the skeleton 
 of many a noble hound — as famous perhaps in his day as 
 Cavall or Gorban — ^has been exhumed from the green barrows 
 and moss-grown cairns, the resting-places of the old dead, 
 that dot in such numbers the solitary moors and hiU-sides of 
 the North. On some of the remarkable sculptured stones of 
 Scotland — especially on the monument called 'the tomb of 
 Venora,' or Guenever, now in the churchyard of Meigle in 
 Angus — ^the deerhound appears among a crowd of other 
 figures — Shunters, hawk-bearers, and wild animals of all sorts. 
 Rude as are the sculptures on all these stones, the union of 
 great strength with extreme grace of form, especially 
 characterizing the Northern hound, is sufficiently well 
 indicated to allow of its easy recognition ; and we may with 
 no great improbability imagine that we see in them the rough 
 portraits of the hounds that once licked the hands of the 
 ' kemp ' who sleeps below, by the side of whose bones their 
 own may perhaps be mouldering. 
 
 Memorials of a different character occur in various parts of 
 Scotland, of a hound whose reputation is second to none in the 
 whole catalogue of canine worthies, — Bran, the companion of 
 Fingal, and himself deserving of a place among the Fingalian 
 heroes. Bran must have been a troublesome hound, and in 
 size must have far exceeded the gigantic Kitmer, if such very 
 * Mabinogion, vol. ii, p. 360. 
 
106 THE DOGS OF FOLK-LORE, 
 
 substantial stakes as those wMcli are known as 'Bran's 
 Pillars ' were indeed necessary for keeping liim in order. The 
 best known of these is the isolated mass of rock on the sea- 
 shore near Dunolly Castle, to which Fingal is said to have 
 tied up Bran during his own fight with a chief of the ' black 
 Danes.' ' White-breasted Bran ' was the best of the ' nine 
 great dogs ' and the ' nine smaller game-starting dogs ' which 
 always accompanied Fingal on his hunting expeditions. The 
 * surly strength of Luath ' — another of Fingal's dogs — ^is duly 
 celebrated in Gaelic tradition, but he was not so perfect or 
 graceful as Bran : 
 
 ' With his hind-leg like a hook or bent bow, 
 
 His breast like that of a garron (hunting pony), 
 His ear like a leaf,' — 
 
 a description which raises before us the image of a dear old 
 friend, whose unblemished descent might have entitled him 
 to an Augsburg canonry or an All Souls fellowship ; and 
 who, for anything we can tell, is now luxuriating in a canine 
 Elysium with Bran himself, and Luath, and Maida. Light 
 lie the earth above thee, and sweet fall the sunshine through 
 the larches on thy grave, Oscar, ' fleet foot in the correi I'' 
 
 The final disappearance of Bran from this earthly stage is 
 surrounded with at least as great mystery as that of Cavall. 
 An Lish legend — ^for Bran, like the rest of the Fingalians, 
 belongs as much to Ireland as to Scotland — asserts that, 
 having chased a snow-white hart for many hours. Bran sprang 
 after it into a small lake in the county Clare. The deer 
 vanished on touching the water. A beautiful lady appeared 
 in its stead, laid her hand on the dog's head and submerged 
 him for ever. The cliff from which he sprang is still called 
 ' Craig-a-Bran,' and the district ' Tiamach Bran ' — the lordship 
 of Bran.* On the other hand, ' Cairn Bran ' is pointed out 
 
 * Choice Notes from Notes and Queries — Folk-lm'e, p. 103. ' Legends 
 of the County Clare.' 
 
HISTOEY, AND BOMANOE, 107 
 
 in Glen Loth in Sutherlandshire ; and the Highland tradition 
 bears that he died and was buried there after a severe fight 
 with Thorp, the dog of a Sutherland chief, whose heart Fin- 
 gal himself tore out in revenge.* Of this legend, however, 
 there is a very curious Irish version, which runs as follows : 
 During the struggle between the Irish Fingalians and the 
 host of ' Lochlyn,' a battle on one occasion continued so long, 
 and the combatants were so nearly equal, that both sides at 
 last agreed to abide by the issue of a fight between Bran and 
 a famous ' dr dubh,' or black hound, belonging to the king of 
 the Northmen. The name of this hound, in accordance with 
 an old northern belief, which reappears in many different 
 shapes, was carefully concealed, and until it should be dis- 
 covered he was destined to remain invincible. The dogs 
 fought on the top of a great rock in Connaught till they tore 
 the very stone under their feet into powdery fragments, and 
 trampled it again so hard that it became rock once more. 
 The fight had lasted for some hours, and the ' cir dubh ' had 
 nearly gained the victory, when Bald-headed Conal, who alone 
 of all the FingaUans knew the secret of the black dog's 
 strength, turning his face eastward and biting his thumb (a 
 ceremony which he would but rarely perform, but which 
 endowed him with the .gift of divination), made a sudden 
 exclamation of encouragement to Bran, the first word of 
 which was the black hound's name, who at once lost his 
 strength and his victory.! 
 
 That the Northern deerhound — and most of aU that variety 
 
 * Scrope's Deerstalhi/ng. 
 
 t A curious example of the superstition which forhade the naming 
 of a combatant during the fight occurs in ' Ribolt and Guldborg,' the 
 Danish duplicate or original of the fine old Scottish ballad of the 
 'Douglas Tragedy.' Guldborg is cautioned not to name her lover 
 whUe he is strugghng with her father and her brothers. She does so 
 however ; and at that moment Ribolt receives his death-wound. The 
 caution has dropped out of the Scottish ballad ; but it is worth 
 noticing that the hero's death-wound is received to all appearance 
 
108 THE DOGS OF FOLK-LOBE, 
 
 whicli seems to have attained its greatest perfection in Ire- 
 land and Scotland — was especially valued by the Vikingr, 
 and that a more than ordinary sagacity was attributed to 
 it, appears from numerous passages in the r Sagas — ^those 
 picturesque narratives which enable us to realize with such 
 miaute accuracy the wild life of the early Icelandic colonists 
 in the tenth and eleventh centuries. In them the ' Irish ' 
 hound, as he is usually called, appears as the companion of 
 the Olafs, and Einars, and Kiartans, in their ' hofs ' at the 
 head of the rocky fiord or among the desolate inland mosses—^ 
 sometimes even on the decks of their ' sea^dragons ' — -just as 
 we have seen him in close attendance on the great heroes of 
 Celtic tradition : — 
 
 ' "I will give thee," said Olaf Paa (the peacock) to Grunnar, whose 
 , story is recorded in the saga of Nial's Burning, "three things: a 
 golden bracelet ; a kirtle which belonged to Myrkiartan, King of Ire- 
 land ; and a dog which I got in the same country. He is huge of 
 limb, and for a follower equal to an able man. Moreover, he hath 
 man's wit, and will bark at thine enemies, but never at thy friends. 
 And he will see by each man's face whether he be iU or well disposed 
 toward thee. And he will lay down his life for thee. Samr is his 
 name." Then he said to the hound, " From this day follow thou 
 Gunnar, and help him what thou canst." So the hound went to 
 Gunnar, and lay down at his feet, and fawned upon him.' 
 
 Samr could not prevent the murder of Grunnar ; but when 
 Gizur attacked his master at Hlidarend, the dog did his best. 
 Grizur and his party advanced along a beaten way on the top of 
 the fence that surrounded the ' town,' — the true old Northern 
 
 at the same instant as in the Danish version, immediately after Lady 
 Margaret has called on him by name to ' hold his hand' : — 
 
 ' She held his steed in her milk-white hand. 
 
 And never shed one tear 
 Until that she saw her seven brethren fa'. 
 And her father hard fighting, who loved her so dear. 
 '" O hold your hand. Lord William," she said, 
 "For your strokes they are wondrous sair : 
 True lovers 1 can get many a ane, 
 ^ut a father I can never get mair," ' 
 
HISTOEY, AND EOMANCB. 109 
 
 name for the house with its attendant outbtiildings and enclo- 
 sures. There they halted ; and Thorkel the bond went nearer 
 to the house. The dog lay watching on the low roof ; ' and/ 
 continues the narrative, 'it chanced that he and Thorkel 
 jumped at the same moment into the court in front. Instantly 
 he flew at Thorkel, seized him, and so tore him that he died. 
 But Onund of Trollaskog smote Samr on the head with his 
 axe, so that it pierced the brain ; and the dog, with a great 
 and wonderful cry, feU dead on the ground.' 
 
 The touches which show us Samr are but few ; yet he was 
 evidently a worthy companion of Gunnar, himself one of the 
 best among the rough old Icelanders, and we are sorry for that 
 axe-stroke of Onund' s. As worthy a hound as Samr was Vigr 
 or Viki, the dog of Olaf Tryggvi's son, that grim Norwegian 
 king, who first attempted to introduce Christianity at the 
 point of the sword among the bonders of the seaboard and 
 uplands. The SeaUds and the compilers of Olaf s saga have 
 invested his last battle with something of the same mysterious 
 character which belongs to the fatal fight of King Arthur at 
 Camlan. Olaf, so went the common belief, did not fall during 
 the battle, but was conveyed away in the midst of the strife 
 to some unknown region, whence, like the British King, he is 
 to return in the hour of his country's greatest need. Through- 
 out the battle, "Vigr, a hound which Olaf had carried oiF whilst 
 pillaging on the coast of Ireland, had been lying under the 
 great mast in front of the ship, in the place always assigned to 
 the chief fighters. After Olaf's disappearance, Einar Thani- 
 baskelfir, the King's principal ' hirdman,' or follower, going 
 up to the dog, exclaimed, ' Vigr, we have lost your master !' 
 and Vigr, springing up as if seized with sudden grief, leapt 
 overboard and swam to land. There, says the saga, he 
 crouched himself on the top of a green hiUock that overlooked 
 the bay ; refusing to eat, although food was brought to him 
 in plenty, and although he drove away from it other dogs and 
 
110 THE DOGS OP FOLK-LOBE, 
 
 birds of prey ; and there, at last, voluntarily starved to death, 
 Vigr's limbs stiffened into their last repose. He had been the 
 constant companion of Olaf ever since he had been carried off 
 from the Irish coast ; and on one occasion had the honour of 
 steering the King's * Dragon,' the long ship, .with its rude 
 carvings and lines of gold and azure, in which Olaf threaded 
 the deep, gloomy fiords, and narrow passages between the 
 islands. Olaf was sailing home to Nidaros, after destroying 
 the statue of Freyr, and asked Thorarinn the Icelander to steer 
 for him ; but Thorarinn declared that Vigr could steer better, 
 so the King, holding Vigr's paws, helped him to manage the 
 rudder ; and the ' Dragon ' got safely home. 
 
 Samr and Vigr are but ordinary hounds after all, compared 
 with the wonderftd dog Sauer, made, says old Snorro, 
 King of Drontheim, by. Eystein of the Uplands. * He was 
 gifted with three men's wisdom ; and when he barked, he 
 spoke one word and barked two. A collar .and chain of gold 
 and silver were made for him ; and his courtiers carried him 
 in their hands when the weather or ways were foul,' Whether 
 Sauer —who in spite of his attentive courtiers was at last torn 
 to pieces by wolves — belonged to the great Northern hounds, 
 or, as seems more probable, shared the niceness and the refine- 
 ment of the Gallic FretiUons and TontonSj must remain 
 uncertain; nor do we see our way much more clearly 
 toward an elucidation of the important questions, how far 
 he was connected with the ' three-footed dog of Norroway,' 
 of whom mention is made in the ' Complaynt of Scotland '; 
 and how far he was entitled to call cousin with the royal dog 
 of the Ethiopian Ptoembarii, whose voice and action were 
 carefully interpreted by a select body of priests. Sauer, 
 however, it is sufficiently clear, was no better than a heathen 
 hound ; and he leads us, appropriately enough, into the com- 
 pany of those ' dogs of darkness ' which figure so extensively 
 in mediaeval folk-lore and tradition. 
 
HISTOET, AND EOMANCE 111 
 
 A trace of ancient heathendom may, perhaps, be recognised 
 in certain mystic animals which figure in romance ; such as the 
 black dog with red ears which, according to the Breton ballad, 
 always accompanied the enchanter Merlin ; and the wonderful 
 ' whelp ' which King Triamour of Wales bestowed upon Sir 
 Tristrem : — 
 
 ' What colour he was wrought 
 
 Now I shall you shewe, 
 Silke n'as none so soft, 
 
 He was red, green, and blewe ; 
 They that him saw oft, 
 
 Of him had game and glewe. 
 
 Y wis ; 
 His name was Peticrewe.' 
 
 But relics of the older world are far more frequent in local 
 legend and superstitions ; and just as, after the introduction of 
 Christianity, the ancient divinities, instead of passing away 
 altogether, were only changed in the popular belief into 
 powerful demons, so all that had been in any way connected 
 with them partook to a great extent of the darker attributes 
 with which they were now invested. Hence the dog of 
 mediaeval folk-lore is for the most part a very sad dog indeed. 
 In the earlier mythologies his watchfulness and his instinct 
 of chase had been duly represented, and had raised him to a 
 distinguished place. He is now directly associated with the 
 under-world, of which indeed he still occasionally appears as 
 the guardian. According to Synesius, bishop of Ptolem 
 in the early part of the fifth century, Cerberus continued his 
 functions as watch-dog at the portals of hell itself; and Dante 
 represents ' Cerbero, il gran vermo ' — so called perhaps from 
 the dragon's tail which terminated his body — as guarding 
 and tormenting the souls at the entrance of the third 
 'cerchio.' In Northern Europe, however, it is of course the 
 old creeds of the Northmen and the Celts which have left' 
 their traces in the popular folk-lore : and Grimm has pointed 
 out that in the first of these the wolf not unfrequently takes 
 
112 THE DOGS OF FOLK-LOBE, 
 
 the place which is elsewhere assigned to the dog. A brace of 
 wolves, Geri and Freki, stood beside Odin's throne in Asgard ; 
 but the all-wise, white-bearded Odin has long since sunk 
 into a malevolent fiend; and when he now appears to the 
 benighted wanderer over the heaths of Sweden, he is attended, 
 not by wolves, but by a leash of black, fire-breathing hounds. 
 A whole pack of such heU-hounds are led on by their dark 
 ' master ' — a tall figure with a hunting pole — over the wastes 
 of Dartmoor ; where it is possible that the traditions of Saxon 
 heathendom have become mingled to some extent with those of 
 the Celts. At all events, the ' wish hounds,' as they are called 
 in Devonshire, resemble in almost every particular certain 
 ' spiritual hunting dogs' which are frequently heard and seen 
 in the Principality ; and of which a very curious account was 
 published, toward the end of the last century, among other 
 ' relations of apparitions,' by 'the late Rev. Edmund Jones, of 
 the Tranch, in Monmouthshire.' Mr. Jones, who implicitly 
 believes the wonders he describes, tells us that, ' before the 
 light of the Gospel prevailed, there were in Carmarthenshire 
 and elsewhere often heard before burials, what by some were 
 called Cwn Annwn (dogs of hell) ; by others Cwn bendith eu 
 Mammau (dogs of the fairies) ; and by some Cwn wyhir (sky 
 dogs). The nearer they were to man the less their voice 
 was — ^like that of small beetles (beagles ?) ; and the farther, 
 the louder ; and sometimes like the voice of a great hound 
 sounding among them, like that of a bloodhound, — a deep 
 hollow voice.' Their hunt was frequently in the air — ^hence 
 their name of 'sky dogs': and, says Mr. Jones, 'I have 
 heard say that these spiritual hunting dogs have been heard 
 to pass by the eaves of several houses before the death of 
 some one in the family.' ' An acquaiatance of mine,' he con- 
 tinues, ' a man perfectly firm to tell the truth, being out at 
 night, heard a hunting in the air, and as if they overtook % 
 
 something which they hunted after, and, being overtaken, made 
 
 » 
 
HISTOET, AND EOMANCE. 113 
 
 a miserable cry amongst them, and seemed to escape ; but, 
 overtaken again, made the same dismal cry; and again 
 escaped, and followed after till out of hearing.' In the air 
 the Own wybir seems to have been invisible ; but when on 
 ' middle earth,' either singly or in packs, they could make 
 themselves seen as well as heard,— ^witness the following 
 choice stories from Mr. Jones's spiritual portfoho : — 
 
 'Mr. D. W., of Pembrokeshire, a religious man, and far from fear 
 and superstition, gave me the following account : — That as he was 
 travelling by himself through a field called the Cot-moor, where two 
 stones are set up, called the " Devil's Nags," at some distance from 
 each other, where evU spirits are said to haunt and trouble passengers, 
 he was thrown over the hedge, and was never well afterwards. Mr. 
 W. went with a strong fighting mastiff dog with him ; but suddenly 
 he saw another mastiff dog coming towards him. He thought to set 
 his own dog at it ; but his dog seemed to be much frightened, and 
 would not go near it. Mr. W. then stooped down to take up a stone, 
 thinking to throw at it ; but suddenly there came a fire round it, so 
 that he could perceive it had a white tail, and a white snip down his 
 nose, and saw his teeth grinning at him. He then knew it was one of 
 the infernal dogs of hell ; one of those kind of dogs against which David 
 prayeth in Ps. xxii. 20, " Deliver my soul from the power of th« dog." 
 
 ' As R. A. was going to Laugharn town one evening on some busi- 
 ness, it being late, her mother dissuaded her from going, telling her 
 it was late, and that she would be benighted, Ukely she might be 
 terrified by an apparition, which was both seen and heard by many, 
 and by her father among others, at a place called Pant-y-Madog, which 
 was a pit by the side of the lane leading to Laugharn. On coming 
 back before night (though it was rather dark), she passed by the place, 
 but not without thinking of the apparition. But being a little beyond 
 this pit, in a field where there was a little rill of water, and just going 
 to pass it, having one foot stretched over it, and looking before her,- 
 she saw something like a great dog (one of the dogs of hell) coming 
 towards her. Being within four or five yards of her, it stopped, sat 
 down, and set up such a scream, so horrible, so loud, and so strong, 
 that she thought the earth moved under her ; with which she fainted, 
 and fell down. She did not awake and go to the next house, which 
 was but the length of one field from the place, untU about midnight ; 
 having one foot wet in the rill of water which she was going to pass 
 when she saw the apparition.' 
 
 To the famous superstition of the wild hunter and his train — 
 to which both the Own Annwn and the wish-hounds belong — 
 
 8 
 
114 THE DOGS OF FOLK-LOEE, 
 
 which is found in different forms throughout Europe, and 
 which is certainly a relic of the older heathendom-r-a darker 
 character was, no doubt, given by the monastic imagination 
 which presided over the growth of so much mediseval folk- 
 lore. When the hermit retired to his solitary cell, 'in 
 desertis,' ' in eremis,' high up among the boulders of the 
 mountain side, in the depths of the pathless forest, or among 
 the ivy-grown ruins of some Roman town or tower long 
 desolate and abandoned, he carried with him a horror of the 
 world he had left behind; aU the ordinary pleasures and 
 pursuits of which were, in his eyes, tainted by the spirit of 
 the * enemy.' In his remote solitude, and under the influence 
 of all the strange and mysterious sounds of the forest and the 
 mountain, his mind would naturally recur to the wild legends 
 which had been familiar to his childhood ; and the chase, the 
 grand recreation of the feudal baron, would thus become 
 connected with those older beHefs that filled the woods with 
 unearthly terror — the yelling of hounds, the clattering of 
 horse-hoofs, the howls and cries of the ' wild hunt of Odin,' 
 as, among shattered, limbs and shivering branches, it swept 
 onward through the storm. The 'Maisne Hellequin,' a 
 remarkable form of the wild hunter's legend, common to the 
 great woods of Northern France and Alsace, was evidently the 
 result of some such union of the popular creed with a true 
 monk's hatred of the wild life and recreations of the world 
 he had abandoned. The ' maisne ' or ' household ' of the evil 
 knight Hellequin' was a great company of knights and barons, 
 whose number was constantly on the increase, and who were 
 condemned, as the punishment of ill deeds done in tHe body, 
 to wander perpetually through forests and soKtary places 
 until Doomsday. Here they were frequently encountered, 
 following the chase as when alive ; but their horses and 
 their dogs were demons in animal form, and the most wicked 
 among them was compelled to take the place of the hunted 
 
HISTOKY, AND EOMANCE... 115 
 
 animal. They hunted, too, in the armour they had worn in 
 life ; but helmet, sword, and hauberk had all become of such 
 intolerable weight that no ordinary mortal could so much 
 as lift them. Their punishment was a very fitting one, 
 thought the fierce old Jesuit Delrio ; and sthe words of the 
 prophet apply to it — 'Juxta illud propheticum — "descend- 
 emnt in infernum cum armis suis." ' (Ezech.) ' They went 
 down into the grave with their weapons.' 
 
 The dog of the Maisne Hellequin has sunk into, an actual 
 demon. His form is indeed constantly assumed by the evil 
 spirits which figure in monastic legends, as well as by the 
 familiar imps of witch and wizard ; and there is more than 
 one curious story in which a troublesome ' revenant,' whose 
 nature and iutentions were apparently none of the best, is 
 transformed into a hound, and in that shape compelled to 
 undertake some task of endless labour, by which, as is well 
 known to all students of the supernatural, a ghost may be 
 laid as eflectually as if he had been transported to the depths 
 of the Red Sea. But we are detaining our readers in no very 
 good company, although we trust that, hke ourselves, they 
 " will be inclined to protest agaiust this unworthy treatment of 
 our old favourites. At all events, they will not refuse to join 
 in the regrets of Cuddy, one of the rustics in Ford's gloomy 
 play of the 'Witch of Edmonton,' who thus apostrophizes the 
 ' familiar ' of Mother Demdike. ' Tom,' the famihar, is 
 himself by no means a dumb dog : — 
 
 ' Cuddy. Certainly, Tom, I begin to pity thee. 
 
 Bog. Pity me? For what? 
 
 Cuddy. Were it not possible for thee to become an honest dog yet ? 
 'Tis a base life that you lead, Tom ; to serve witches— to kill innocent 
 children— to kill harmless cattle— to destroy com, fruit, and so forth. 
 'Twere better yet to be a butcher, and kill for yourself.' 
 
 ' Every black must have its white,' however. All dogs were 
 not fiends. For if there were solitary monks and hermits 
 who looked on the chase as a thing of evil, and helped to fling 
 
116 THE DOGS OF FOLK-LOEE, 
 
 an ominous shadow over the hounds that led it, there was 
 many a bishop and lordly abbot who loved well ' to see his 
 hawk fly and his greyhound run/ and who could appreciate 
 their noble .qualities as well as Sir Tristrem himself. 
 Accordingly, whatever may have been the case with the dogs 
 of the under-world, such ordinary mortal hounds as figure in 
 medisBval history and o-omance lay by no means under the ban 
 of the church or its ministers. They rejoiced, indeed, like 
 their masters, in the powerfiil protection of St. Eustace or St. 
 Hubert ; unless th^y happened to be of that white race which 
 was dedicated to St. Boche, great numbers of which were 
 solemnly blessed before his altar on the day of his festival. 
 
 Both St. Eustace and St. Hubert were famous hunters. 
 Both were miraculously converted by snow-white stags, 
 which they followed far into the depths of the forest, and 
 which, suddenly turning on their pursuers, displayed the 
 crucifix between their antlers. In Southern Europe St. 
 Eustace is the great patron of the chase. In the North it is 
 St. Hubert who presides, not only over the chase, but over the 
 more important guilds 'of archers and crossbow-men. The 
 wide extent of his ancient reputation is evident from the 
 number of churches in which, the story of his conversion is 
 told in waU-painting, in wood-carving, or in stained glass ; but 
 it was his own shrine, in the midst of the beech-woods of the 
 Ardennes, that was the great object of reverence with every 
 true servant of St. Hubert. The Benedictine abbey which 
 contained it was founded on the very spot where the stag had 
 halted, and on which the saint had passed seven years in the 
 profoundest solitude. At the expiration of that time he went 
 to Borne, where he was consecrated by Pope Sergius I. to 
 the vacant bishopric of Maestricht; and it was during this 
 ceremony that the famous stole, still one of the great 
 treasures of the church of St. Hubert, was brought through 
 the air to the Pope by the hands of an angel. St. Hubert 
 
AND EOMANCB. 117 
 
 removed the seat of his bishopric to Lifege, and is said to 
 
 have laboured earnestly among the half-heathen population of 
 
 Brabant and the Campine. St. Peter himself, according to 
 
 the legend, bestowed on him a golden key, which conveyed 
 
 with it unusual power over evil and unclean spirits ; a power 
 
 which was proved by St. Hubert's cure of a madman who 
 
 had entered a church, and whom he sent, calm and in his 
 
 right mind, to recall the ilying congregation. It was from 
 
 this especial power, and from St. Hubert's foraaer- connection 
 
 with the chase, that his aid came to be invoked, as it still is, in 
 
 all cases of canine madness. 
 
 The death of St. Hubert is said to have occurred'(the date 
 
 is more than doubtful) in the year 727. Nearly a century 
 
 afterwards, his remaiiM, which had been duly enshrined, were 
 
 removed, by permission of Walrand, Bishop of Li^ge, to the 
 
 house of Benedictines which had long before been founded on 
 
 the place of his penitence, which had fallen into ■ ruin, and 
 
 which was now solemnly restored. With the possession of 
 
 the reMcs of the himter-saint the house assumed his name, and 
 
 the Abbey of St. Hubert became one of the most famous places 
 
 of pilgrimage throughout the North of France and over all the 
 
 great forest districts watered by the Meuse and the Moselle.* 
 
 * Some relics of St. Hubert, said to have been removed from his 
 shrine at the time of its translation from Li^ge, form the chief treasure 
 of the church of Limd, not far from Soissons. Neither man nor beast, 
 says the local tradition, has ever been attacked by ' rage ' (hydrophobia) 
 within the limits of the Commune. A grand pilgrimage is made to 
 the church of Lim^ on the 2nd of November; when the foUpwing 
 rhyme — half charm, half prayer — is recited ; — 
 ' Saint Hubert glorieux, 
 
 Dieu me soit amoureux ;- 
 
 Trois choses me defend : 
 
 De la nuit du serpent ; 
 
 Mauvais loup, mauvais chien, 
 
 Mauvaises bStes enrag^es ' 
 
 Ne puissent m'approcher, 
 
 Me voir, ne me toucher, 
 
 Non plus qu'Stoile au ciel.' 
 
118 THE DOGS Of FOLK-LOEE, 
 
 The festival of St. Hubert is the 2nd of November, and it 
 is on that day that the stranger who wishes to see his church at 
 its best, or to moralise, as befits every traveller ' now he is in 
 Arden,' upon the sundry changes of the world, should find his 
 way over the wide-spreading heath toward the towers of his 
 ancient monastery. The powerful Lord Abbot, whose feudal 
 rights extended over all the surrounding country, and who 
 ranked as first peer of the Duchy of Bouillon, has, indeed, dis- 
 appeared, and what remains of his abbey has become the chief 
 prison for the province of Luxembourg ; but on the festival 
 of the saint the church is stiU thronged by crowds of pilgrims 
 who a,ssemble from all parts to obtain a blessing on themselves 
 and on their dogs, and to receive the small cakes of bread 
 which, blessed on the altars of St. Hubert or St. Eoche, 
 and duly distributed among the hounds, are believed to be 
 effectual for averting canine madness from the kennel during 
 the ensuing year. The tomb or shrine of St. Hubert himself 
 is in the crypt of the church, and his body, according to the 
 popular behef, not only remains perfect within it, but his 
 beard and his nails still grow, like those of the Emperor 
 Barbarossa in the well-known legend. The miraculous stole 
 of white silk, with rich ' orphrays,' is said to have been taken 
 from the saint's body when his shrine was opened on its 
 removal to the abbey in the ninth century. It now reposes 
 on the high altar of the upper church, and, in spite of the 
 constant withdrawal of portions of its fabric, is believed to 
 remain entirely perfect and undiminished. It is the efficacy of 
 this stole which is chiefly relied upon by persons who have 
 either reason to fear an access of hydrophobia, or are actually 
 suffering from it. 
 
 Such a patient proceeds with as little delay as possible to 
 
 The windows of the neighbouring church of Ferte-Mjlon are filled 
 with very fine stained glass of the Renaissance period, representing 
 the legend of St. Hubert. 
 
HISTOEY, AND BOMANCE. 119 
 
 the Abbey-churcli, where, in the midst of a solemn service, a 
 slight incision is made in his forehead, into which are laid one 
 or two threads of the miraculous stole. The head is then 
 tightly bandaged, in which condition it must remain until the 
 close of the ' neuvaine,' or nine days of religious observance, 
 which are at once commenced. On each of these days the 
 patient must confess and communicate. He may eat pork, 
 fish, but only such as have scales — ^herring or carp, for 
 example — ^hard eggs, and bread ; but whatever he eats must 
 be cold. His drink must be pure water, or wine and water. 
 The cup or glass he uses must be set aside for himself; and he 
 must not on any account stoop to drink at springs or rivers. 
 The sheets of his bed must be exquisitely white and clean. 
 He must not comb his hair for a period of forty days, count- 
 ing from the beginning of the ' neuvaine.' On the tenth day 
 after the incision the bandage round the head is carefully 
 removed by a priest, who must burn it, and throw the ashes 
 into the piscina of the sacristy. The person who recovers 
 after this treatment has, it is asserted, the power of arresting 
 the progress of the disorder in others, and of granting them 
 ' delays ' imtil they are themselves enabled to reach the shrine 
 of St. Hubert. In accordance with an old and curious belief, 
 it was also said that the descendants of St. Hubert had the 
 power of at once healing all persons suffering from canine 
 madness by a simple imposition of hands. In 1649 a certain 
 George Hubert, attached to the household of Louis XIV., re- 
 ceived letters patent authorising him, ' de part le Roi,' to per- 
 form in this manner whatever cures lay in his power ; and it 
 is said that more than one family in our own country, asserting 
 its descent from the Saint of the Ardennes, still lays claim to 
 some such privilege.* 
 
 * The descendants of St. Paul and of St. Catherine were said to be 
 distinguished by similar powers. 'Many used to boast,' says Reginald 
 Scot, ' that they are of St. Paul's race and kindred, showing upon 
 their bodies the prints of serpents, which, as the papists afiSim, were 
 
120 THE DOGS OF FOLK-LOBE, 
 
 It is not, perhaps, impossible that in some old-fashioned 
 
 village church in Luxembourg or among the Yosges a true 
 
 mass of St. Hubert — at which the keepers and foresters 
 
 attended with their hounds, and blew the 'fanfare de St. 
 
 Hubert ' on their hunting-horns at the moment of consecration 
 
 — might still be heard on his fiSte-day. We doubt, however, if 
 
 one of the famous hounds — 
 
 ' The dogs of black St. Hubert's breed, 
 Unmatched for courage, strength, and speed,' 
 
 could now be anywhere discovered. All hunting dogs were 
 
 under St. Hubert's protection : but the abbots watched with 
 
 especial care over a breed of hounds which, according to the 
 
 tradition, were descended from the dogs who had followed 
 
 the saint himself on the day of his mysterious conversion. 
 
 Thoroughbred hounds of this race were Jet black — ' mighty 
 
 of body, with legges somewhat low and short ' — ^bloodhounds 
 
 rather than greyhounds.. They were in great request 
 
 throughout France and the Low Countries. The Dukes of 
 
 Burgundy ranked them among the chief treasures of their 
 
 enormous hunting establishments ; and three couples of them, 
 
 together with half a dozen falcons from their eyries on the 
 
 Meuse, were annuaUy sent by the abbots of St. Hubert as a 
 
 present to the French monarchs. A race of pure white dogs, 
 
 possessing the same characteristics, was originally dedicated 
 
 to St. B.oche ; upon whose altars a white hound, holding in 
 
 its mouth the cake which, like that of St. Hubert, was 
 
 thought to avert madness from the kennel, is frequently 
 
 sculptured. This breed is said to have been brought from the 
 
 East. It soon became confused, however, with the older race ; 
 
 incident to all them of St. Paul's stock. Marry, they say withal, that 
 aU his kinsfolks can handle serpents or any poison without danger.' 
 Others had a Catherine-wheel on their bodies, ' and say they are kin 
 to St. Catherine ; they could carry coals in their hands, dip their 
 heads into scalding liquor, and go into ovens.' — Discovery of Wiich- 
 crajt, book xiii. chap. xv. 
 
HISTOET, AND EOMANCE. 121 
 
 and both black and white hounds were called indifferently 
 ' chiens de St. Hubert.' It is ' Souillart le Blond ' — a white 
 dog of this breed, from whose epitaph we learn its many- 
 virtues. SouiUart, who in life had been attached to the 
 French court, was a dog of letters. ' Dits ' and ' M^moires,' 
 unhappily no longer existing, are attributed to him, and were 
 perhaps as authentic as one-half of the ' M^moires potir servir' 
 with which we have been so liberally supplied by our lively 
 neighbours. His epitaph, written by himself, survives; and 
 in spite of the distrust with which such things are naturally 
 regarded, we may venture to believe that this one does not He: — 
 
 ' Je suys SoTiillart le Blond, et le beau chien courant, 
 De mon. temps le miUez, et le mieulx: pour chassant ; 
 Du bon chien Saint Hubert, qui Souillart avait nom 
 Fuz fils et Writier, qui eult si grand renom. 
 
 ******* 
 
 J'ai creu, oraint, et aymS sur tous aultres mon maistre 
 Autant que fist one chien n'est possible d'estre. 
 Maintz plaisirs lui ay faictz en plusieurs grands deffaulz 
 Oil il c'estait trouv^ par pluyes et par grand chaulx. 
 Droit chien bault ay est§ de ceulx que loe Phebus, 
 Et croy qu'apres ma mort il n'en demeurera nulz 
 S'il n'est de mes enfifans, dont j'ay eu vingt et deux, 
 Qui pax toutes forestz prenaient le&cerfz tous seulz.' 
 
 The admirers of the ' noble science ' are bound, at all events, 
 to listen respectfully to the catalogue of the perfections of this 
 'beau chien courant.' There is reason to believe that the 
 existing race of fox-hounds is derived from a cross between 
 the white dogs of St. Hubert (which, by the way, were nearly 
 identical with the old Enghsh 'talbots') and an Italian 
 ' brachet,' the offspring of which, called ' chiens greffiers,' 
 were especial favourites of Louis XII., and 'united all 
 the good qualities of the other running dogs, without 
 their defects.'* 
 
 The dogs which figure in mediaeval romance are, for 
 
 * Col. C. Hamilton Smith, 'Hist, of Dogs,' vol. ii. p. 111. 
 
122 THE DOGS OP FOLK-LOEE, 
 
 the most part, hounds of some description. Such was 
 Hodain, whose name, although the romance to which he 
 belongs is beyond all doubt the property of the ' old gentil 
 Bretons,' seems to be mysteriously related to that of the 
 great Teutonic deity. Whilst passing over the sea from 
 Ireland with Sir Tristrem and la belle Ysonde, Hodain 
 licked the cup which had contained the ' drink of might ' by 
 which the lovers were so unhappily united. He shared the 
 effects of the potion, and attached himself to the fortunes of 
 the pair, for whose sake he busied himself, together with 
 Peticru, the wonderful parti-coloured 'whelp,' which Tris- 
 trem sent from Wales to Ysonde, in pulling down many a 
 noble stag, when the lovers, in their cavern in the forest — 
 
 ' hadde no wines wat, 
 No ale that was old, 
 Nor no good meat they ate :' 
 
 a statement from which we may conclude that the fair queen 
 of Cornwall was scarcely so successful a cook as Hodain was 
 a provider. The hound's fidehty and attachment is con- 
 spicuous throughout the romance. When Tristrem arrived 
 at the castle of Tintagel disguised as a fool, with his hair 
 cropped and his face blackened, Hodain recognised and 
 fawned upon him, whilst Ysonde herself was more than 
 doubtful; and when the bodies of the unhappy lovers were 
 brought to Cornwall to be buried, Hodain left the wood, 
 without turning aside to chase the stags with which it 
 abounded, and ran straight to the chapel, into which he was 
 admitted by Pemus, the squire of Tristrem, who watched his 
 corpse. ' Illec,' in the words of the prose romance, ' demeur- 
 ent Pemus et Heudene sans boire et sans manger ; et quant 
 Us avoyent fait leur dueil sur Tristan, ilz aUoyent sur la Eoyne 
 Yseult.' Hodain and Peticru — 
 
 ' Two houndes mirie made, 
 Fairer might none be/ — 
 
HISTOET, AND EOMANCE. 123 
 
 were figured, vdth ' sweet Ysonde ' and other personages of 
 the romance, on the dais of the stately hall which the giant 
 Beliagog constructed for Sir Tristrem ; and we may still 
 admire their graceftd forms on many of those delicately carved 
 ivory caskets which once adorned the bower of some white- 
 handed Yolande or Isabelle, and are now jealously preserved 
 among the choicest treasures of the antiquary. 
 
 The special attachment of Hodain to Tristrem and Ysonde 
 was the result of his having shared the ' drink of might ' with 
 them ; but the loving devotion of a hound to his master — 
 itself one of the most human of his qualities, and that from 
 which much of his noblest nature is developed — has been duly 
 honoured by the 'makers' of romance. The well-known 
 story of the dog of Montargis seems to belong to the stock of 
 primitive Aryan tradition. In France, according to Mr. 
 Dasent, it first occurs as told of Sibylla, a fabulous wife of 
 Charlemagne ; but, he adds, ' it is at any rate as old as the 
 time of Plutarch, who relates it as an anecdote of canine 
 sagacity in the days of Pyrrhus.'* A dog that revenges his 
 master appears in Hesiod ; and it is not impossible that a stiU 
 more primitive version may one day be discovered, as in the 
 case of Gelert, among the stores of Oriental learning. Mean- 
 while the story, in different forms, may be traced throughout 
 mediaeval and later romance — ^the last and best appropriation 
 of it having been that made by Sir Walter in the ' Talisman.' 
 The hound himself is finely painted in the romance of ' Sir 
 Triamour ' — otherwise of little value. The king of Arragon, 
 deceived by the false representations of his wicked steward, 
 Marrock, banishes his queen, whom he intrusts to the guidance 
 of an old knight named Sir Roger, the master of a greyhound 
 of uncommon size and fierceness. 
 
 ' So forth they went, in number three, 
 Sir Roger, the queen, and the greyhound truly : 
 Wo worth the wicked treason ! ' 
 
 * Norse Popular Tales, Introd. p. xxs. 
 
124 THE DOGS OF FOLK-LOEE, 
 
 Marrock, with a company of eighteen associates, lays wait for 
 the little party in a forest through which they were to pass. 
 Here he attacks them; but the old knight, assisted by the 
 hound, who ' fall bitterly 'gan bite,' succeeds in killing fourteen 
 of his assailants. Marrock, however, attacking him from 
 behind, runs him through with his spear. During the con- 
 fusion the queen escapes into the forest. Marrock searches 
 for her in vain; but after he has retreated she reappears, 
 finds her horse, and endeavours to persuade the hound to 
 accompany her. He will not leave his master's body. 
 
 ' She said, " Sir Roger, now thou art dead, 
 Who shall now the right way lead ? 
 
 For thou may'st speak no more ! " 
 Right on the ground there as he lay dead 
 She kissed him, ere she from him yede ; 
 
 God wot, her heart was sore : 
 What for sorrow and for dread,. 
 Fast away she 'gan her speed, 
 
 She wist not whither ne where. 
 The good greyhound for weal ne wo 
 Would not fro the knight go ; 
 
 But lay and licked his wound. 
 He weened to have healed him again, 
 And thereto he did his pain ; 
 
 Lo ! such love is in a hound.' 
 
 He scrapes a pit for the dead body, covers it with moss and 
 leaves, and guards it faithfully for seven long years.* Every 
 day he provides his own meat in the forest ; but at last he 
 has to wander farther for game, and at the close of the seventh 
 year, whilst the king of Arragon is keeping high festival 
 at Christmas, the greyhound suddenly appears in the hall, 
 
 * Bochart asserts in the 'Hierozoioon'that a dog which had followed 
 his master's bier to the grave three years before was still (1660) remain- 
 ing on the spot. 'A similar case,' says Colonel Hamilton Smith, 
 ' occurred in the last half-century, at Lisle ; where the admiration of 
 the neighbourhood caused a hut to be built for the dog, upon the 
 grave of his master, and food to be brought him. The faithful creature 
 resided on the spot for nine years, when he died.' — ^Vol. ii. p. 87. 
 
mSTOET, AND EOMANCE. 126 
 
 makes the round of the tables, and retires. On his doing 
 this a second time, the king recognises him, and orders that 
 on his next visit he should be carefully watched and followed. 
 The dog returns on the third day of the festival. The traitor 
 Marrock is in the hall, and the greyhound, springing on the 
 murderer of his master — 
 
 ' Toke the ste-ward by the throat, 
 And asunder he it bote ; 
 
 But then he would not bide : 
 Forth to the grave he ran, 
 There followed him many a man, 
 
 Some on horse and some beside. 
 And when he came where his master was, 
 He laid him down upon the grass, 
 
 And barked at the men again.' 
 
 The body is, of course, sought for and found. It is buried 
 with due solemnity, and the faithful dog soon afterwards 
 expires on the tomb which is raised over it. The body of the 
 steward Marrock, after being dragged through the town, is 
 hanged on a gibbet. For the rest of the story — how the 
 queen was restored to her husband, and how her son Sir 
 Triamour became the preserver of his father's life and 
 kingdom — the reader may be referred to the romance itself, 
 an abstract of which wiU be found in the collection of Greorge 
 Ellis.* 
 
 We regret much that the romance-writer has not supplied 
 us with the name of Sir Roger's greyhound ; and this the 
 more, because we fancy we 'have discovered a connection 
 between this traditional dog, who revenges his master, and 
 a good creature M^hose auspicious name and whose patient 
 endurance of many sufferings are well known to all. What 
 is known of Mr. Punch's dog ? — 
 
 ' Tobias, tan jocoso, de los canes grande can V 
 
 * It has been prnted at full length for the Percy Society, ed. 
 Halliwell, 1846. 
 
126 THE DOGS OF FOLK-LOEE, 
 
 What is his history? Who were his ancestors? How- 
 came hfe bj that elevation in the world which, however 
 honourable, is attended by more than the usual amount of 
 those pains and penalties which accompany greatness ? Mr. 
 Punch, as we know, came to us from Italy : but did not the 
 Venetians themselves import him from the remoter shores of 
 the Levant ? At any rate, he is well known there. ' Karagoz ' 
 is the Turkish Punch. 'Hadji Aivad' is his more prudent 
 companion, the 'Pantaloon' of the West. Under the 
 Seljukid dynasty, whose capital was Broussa, Hadji Aivad is 
 said to have been a messenger between that place and Mecca, 
 where he was at last killed by the Arabs, who buried him 
 at Honain. His dog remained with the murderers, and 
 accompanied them to Damascus, where he used to place him- 
 self at the feet, and puU the clothes, of passengers in the 
 streets and bazaars ; and having thus attracted their notice, 
 he would fling himself upon the Arabs, barking and biting. 
 The Arabs were consequently seized and searched. Hadji 
 Aivad' s effects were found among their baggage, — his sling, 
 hatchet, bloody dress, and letter-bag ; and his murderers, 
 thus convicted, ' were hanged in file on the place Sunanieh, 
 whilst the dog placed himself under them, and breathed his 
 life out.'* The story is told by the gossiping Evliya Effendi, 
 who adds that Hadji Aivad' s ancestors were known by the 
 name of Afeh-oghli, and famous for their great dogs — ^pointers 
 (Zaghar), ' so that it is even now a proverb, " What ! are you 
 yelling like Afeh-oghli's pointers ?" ' Is it not possible that 
 the excellent Toby may be remotely descended from these 
 famous dogs, one of whom, we are led to conclude, was the 
 avenger of Hadji Aivad's murder ? 
 
 In making this hound the constant companion and most 
 faithful follower of the knight, the romance-writer, Hke a 
 modern novelist, was only painting from the real life before 
 * Travels of Evliya EflFendi, vol. i. pt. 2, p. 243. 
 
HISTOET, AND ROMANCE. 127 
 
 him. Indeed, so constant a recreation was the chase, that, 
 even when passing from middle earth to the shadowy realms 
 of faerie, the ' makers ' could not conceive of the great 
 personages of that under-world as otherwise employed or 
 attended. When the Queen of Fairy came riding down by 
 the Eildon tree, to meet True Thomas, a pair of brachet- 
 hounds ran gallantly by her side ; and when Sir Orpheo 
 penetrated to the dismal land of Pluto, in search of his lost 
 love, Dame Heurodys — 
 
 ' Then oft he saw, hym beside, 
 In the hot summer-tide, 
 The King of Fairy and his rout, 
 Come to hunt all about, 
 With shoutyng and horns blowyng, 
 And houndys grete crying.' 
 
 The true knight, like Gaston de Foix, who named his best 
 dogs after the heroes of romance — Brute, Tristan, Roland, and 
 Hector of Troy — 'loved hounds of all beasts, both winter 
 and summer ; ' and his love was occasionally returned by a 
 devotion as remarkable as any that is recorded in romance. 
 Griraldus tells us of a greyhound (leporarius) which belonged 
 to the Welsh chieftain, Owen ap Caradoc, and which received 
 seven severe wounds from lances and arrows in defending his 
 master. * He was afterwards brought to the English King 
 Henry II., and enjoyed, let us hope, more consideration and 
 more honour for his noble daring than fell to the lot of his 
 unhappy prince. The well-known story of the desertion of 
 Richard II. by his dog Mathe, who, as Froissart asserts, 
 during the King's first interview with Bolingbroke at Flint, 
 left his master, to whom he had hitherto been strongly 
 attached, to fawn on and remain in the service of the usurper, 
 should rather perhaps be regarded as a ' sad story of the fate 
 of kings ' than as an example of infidelity in the most constant 
 
 * G. Cambrensis, Itin. Camb., p. 842. 
 
128 THE DOGS OF FOLK-LOEE, 
 
 and devoted of animals. At any rate, half-blind, fleaJbitten 
 Argus, and King Roderick's Theron, may be set against the 
 unfaithful Mathe, who seems to have been one of the great 
 Irish deerhounds. There was an old belief that these dogs 
 had the power of recognising persons of royal or noble birth, to 
 whom, however fierce otherwise, they would submit them- 
 selves in all gentleness. Mathe was thus supposed to have 
 acknowledged by his caresses the true heir to the crown in 
 the Bang's ' fair cousin of Lancaster.' The story, however, 
 belongs, in all probability, to that class of wide-spread early 
 traditions of which Grelert and the dog of Montargis have 
 already been quoted as examples. It is found elsewhere, and 
 is told of other animals than dogs — among the rest, of the 
 ermine, which became the emblem of Brittany, and which 
 figures in the arms of its Dukes. * 
 
 The famous dogs of the Knights of Rhodes, which could 
 tell a Turk from a Christian by the smell, and treated him 
 accordingly, were 'Anglici canes' — ^English mastifis. The 
 race seems to have been held in much honour in the south of 
 Europe. They were said to be descended from the well- 
 trained dogs of the knight who fought with and killed the 
 great dragon of Rhodes, — a story which is familiar to us all 
 from the poem of Schiller and the outline illustrations of 
 Moritz Retsch. Is it a brace of these dogs whose portraits 
 look out upon us from the picture of Veronese, thus ' copied ' 
 by Mr. Ruskin ? — 
 
 ' Two mighty brindled mastiffs ; and beyond them, darkness. You 
 scarcely see them at first, against the gloomy green. No other aky 
 for them, poor things ! They are grey themselves, spotted with 
 black all over ; their multitudinous doggish vices may not be washed 
 out of them, are ingrain of nature. Strong thewed and sinewed, 
 however, no blame on them as far as bodily strength may reach; 
 their tieads coal-black, with drooping ears and fierce eyes, bloodshot 
 a little. Wildest of beasts, perhaps, they would have been by nature. 
 
 * The story will be found in Dom Morice, Sistoire de Bretagne. 
 
HISTORY, AND EOMANCE. 129 
 
 But between tliem stands the spirit of their human Love, dove-winged 
 and beautiful, the resistless Greek boy, golden quivered ; his glowing 
 breast and limbs the only light upon the sky — ^purple and pure. He 
 has cast his chain about the dogs' necks, and holds it in his strong 
 right hand, leaning proudly a little back from them. They will never 
 break loose."* 
 
 The bloodhound, however, was tiie great dog of the South. 
 It was in especial favour with the Spaniards of the sixteenth 
 and seventeenth centuries ; and its savage, almost untamable, 
 nature rendered it a fitting companion for the iron troopers 
 of Alva, or the merciless conquerors of the New World. 
 Indeed, both in the Low Countries and on the coasts of 
 Mexico and Peru, these dogs took an active share in their 
 masters' proceedings. The name of that ' admirable dog ' 
 Bezerillo, ' muy excellente perro,' and that of Leoncillo, ' the 
 little treasure,' and ' the little lion,' are recorded among those 
 of the conquerors of Puerto Rico. They drew their rations 
 regularly, like the soldiers ; and many a wretched Indian 
 must have been tracked by them through the dense forests 
 and underwood. It was a bloodhound whose tomb Evelyn 
 saw at the foot of a colossal Jupiter in the gardens of the 
 Doria Palace at Grenoa ; ' for the care of which,' he tells: 
 us, ' one of this family received of the King of Spayne five 
 hundred crownes a-yeare during the lifeftime of that faithful 
 animal.'t The race was carefully cherished in Spain ; and, 
 besides a large hound strongly resembling the Northern 
 Danish dog, the ancestors of which were, it has been suggested, 
 brought to Spain by the Groths, the bloodhound frequently 
 appears on the grand canvases of Titian and Velasquez. 
 These are the ' noble brown beasts,' some of which, in Mr. 
 Ruskin's words, Velasquez has made as grand as his surly 
 kings. ' The dogs of Velasquez,' he remarks elsewhere, ' are 
 sterner and more threatening than those of Veronese ; as are 
 also his kings and admirals. This fierceness in the animal 
 
 * Modern Painters, voL v. p. 260. f Dia^y, i. p. 131. 
 
 9 
 
130 THE DOGS OP FOLK-LOEE, 
 
 increases as the spiritual power of the artist declines.' No 
 small allowance should be made, however, for the differenco 
 between the races- — the bright, earnest Venetian and the far 
 gloomier and more solemn Spaniard — chiefly represented by 
 the two great painters. The savage cruelty which marred the 
 faith of the latter is reflected in the bloodhound on whose head 
 the gloved hand of his master so often rests in the stately por- 
 traits of Velasquez. 
 
 Of whatever race the artist may have thought fit to make 
 the ' Domini canes,' — the black and white dogs which repre- 
 sented the faithful sons of St. Dominic in their black cowls 
 and white scapulars, — ^there can be no doubt that a strong 
 dash of the bloodhound ought properly to mingle with it. In 
 one of the frescoes by Simone Memmi, which adorn the 
 chapterhouse of Sta. Maria Novella at Florence, a whole 
 pack of the Domini canes are represented as in the act of 
 worrying a band of wolves, under which guise SFuch pestilent 
 heretics as Peter Waldo and his followers are shadowed 
 forth. The title of the Lord's dogs, however, although at 
 once suggested by the name of St. Dominic's order, had been 
 appropriated long before the days of the ' frferes.' ' Since,' 
 replied the merchant Samo, who had become chief of the 
 Sclaves, to a messenger sent from King Dagobert, ' you call 
 yourselves the servants of God, and us His dogs, recoUect that 
 vv'hat you do as profitless servants against His will, it may be 
 given to us to avenge with bites.'* But no Sclavonic dog 
 ever bit so sore as the parti-coloured hounds of the Inquisition. 
 How far the Earl of Wiltshire's dog was influenced by a 
 desire to avenge the Protestant wolves we will not venture to 
 decide. A faint apology for his conduct — infinitely worse 
 than that of Launce's Crab, when he thrust himself into the 
 company of three or four gentleman-like dogs under the 
 duke's table — is, we are shocked to write it, offered by Fuller ; 
 
 * Almoin, 1. iv. c. 23. 
 
HISTOBY, AND EOMANCE. 131 
 
 who says, that when the English embassy reached Rome in 
 1530, 'they Jbund the Pope in his grandetza proffering his 
 toe to them, which none offered to kiss; save the unmannerly 
 spaniel (to say no worse of him) of the Earl of Wiltshire, 
 whom the Jesuit (Father Floud) calls- a Protestant dog for 
 biting the Pope's toe ; but let him tell us what religion those 
 dogs were of that ate up Jezebel the harlot.' * 
 
 Dr. Stanley, who saw the descendants of these dogs prowl- 
 ing under the walls of Jezreel, will tell us that, whatever their 
 religion may have been, they were certainly not spaniels. 
 Greyhounds, spaniels, and hounds are classed by Sir Philip 
 Sidney — ^the first, as ' the lords ;' the second, ' the gentlemen ;' 
 and the last, ' the yeomen of dogges.'f The gentlemen, in 
 King Charles's opinion, were the more courtly, though not 
 for this reason the better, companions. ' Methinks,' writes 
 Sir Philip Warwick, who was in attendance on the King at 
 Newport, ' because it shows his disesteem of a common court 
 vice, it is not unworthy the relating of him, that one evening, 
 his dog scraping at his door, he commanded me to let in 
 Grypsey, whereupon I took the boldness to say, " Sir, I per- 
 ceive you love a greyhound better than you do a spaniel." 
 " Yes," says he, " for they equally love their masters, and yet 
 do not flatter them so much." ' | 
 
 However they may be classed, there is no doubt that dogs, 
 like men, have their different ranks, nor that Fortune showers 
 her gifts among them with just as uneven a hand as she uses 
 when busying herself with their masters : — 
 
 ' Some wake to the world's wine, honey, and com, 
 Whilst others, like Colchester natives, are born 
 To its vinegar only, and pepper.' 
 
 During the middle ages the greyhounds, as the 'lords of 
 dogges/ came in for such stars and blue ribbons as were to 
 
 • Chwrch History, b. v. sec. 2, § 18. J Mem. of Charlea I., p. 365. 
 t Arcadia, book ii. 
 
132 THE DOGS OF FOLK-LOBE, 
 
 be enjoyed in the canme world. A certain breed of them 
 had the privilege of appearing with their masters whenever 
 they pleased in the presence of the Emperor Charles the 
 Great. As a mark of this privilege, the hound's right paw 
 was closely shaven ; u less oppressive, if less useful, distinction 
 than the richly damasked corselets and back-plates which were 
 fastened about the best greyhounds when about to take part 
 in the boar-hunt ; * to defend them from the violence of the 
 swine's tusks,' says Cavendish, who saw them armed in this 
 manner at Compi^gne.* The superb necklets of gold, set 
 with pearls ajnd rubies, which were constantly worn by such 
 greyhounds of high degree as figure in the Welsh Mabinogion, 
 ■■ — and before which honest Osesar'.s 
 
 ' Lockit, letter'd, braw brass collar, 
 Which show'd him gentleman and scholar,' 
 
 fades into complete insignificance, — must partly perhaps, but 
 only partly, be placed to the score of the romancer's ima- 
 gination. Very rich ancient collars exist. Many of great 
 splendour are figured in early illuminations ; and some very 
 curious ones may occasionally be seen on the dogs which lie 
 at the feet of monumental effigies. The collars of those on 
 the tomb of Bishop John of Sheppey in Rochester Cathedral 
 are coloured vermilion, and small bells are hung from them 
 at intervals. Thin circlets, possibly of gold, are about the 
 necks of the greyhounds in the illuminations of the well- 
 known MS. of Froissart (temp Ric. II.), in the JBritish 
 Museum : and they sometimes appear wrapped in long cloaks 
 and housings of blue and scarlet, blazoned with lions and 
 fleurs-de-lys; a magnificence which, however gratifying to 
 canine vanity, must have been occasionally found as incon- 
 venient as Miss Caroline's gauze hat and silk slippers, when, 
 
 * Life of Wolsey, p. 527 (in Wordsworth's Eccles. B'wg.). In the 
 romance of ' Octavyan Imperator ' a lioness is thus armed, and fights 
 by the side of Octavyan in every battle. 
 
HISTOEY, AND EOMANOE. 133 
 
 as the story in the 'Looking Glass' used to tell us, she 
 insisted, thus sumptuously attired, on joining the sports of her 
 more sensible companions. We wonder whether vanity or 
 discomfort was the prevailing sentiment in the mind of the 
 dog who, not many years since, attended his mistress's funeral 
 in a long black cloak — we beUeve, at Worcester. 
 
 If the canine mind be indeed open, to a sentiment of vanity, 
 it must occasionally be subjected to some very serious shocks. 
 It can be no very pleasant thing for a dog of any delicacy of 
 feehng to be reminded that the Latin prose of the unhappy 
 candidate who fails in his matriculation trials at Exeter or 
 Brasenose is just such as he might himself be expected, to 
 produce under similar circumstances : nor can he be much 
 more gratified at finding his name bestowed on. the scentless 
 and unprized varieties of the rose and violet ; unless indeed 
 he remembers that the dog-rose was so called because it was 
 anciently thought to be a preservative against hydrophobia, 
 for both dogs and men ; and unless, as -may very likely be 
 the case, he shares the taste of the old whipper-in, who 
 regretted that his dogs had no longer a chance of discovering 
 the true scent, ' now that they stinking violets were all in 
 flower.' It may be doubted, moreover, whether his discovery 
 of the fact that the vessel for holding the famous purple ink 
 with which the Byzantine Emperors used to sign their names 
 was shaped like a dog, and placed under the charge of a 
 special ofi&cer, or even whether the recognition, of his own 
 form in the honoured salt-cellar which rose in the centre of 
 the board, and which was frequently fashioned, like a dog, 
 would console a hound of sensitive mind, and of archaeologicEji 
 tastes, for the degradation implied in the strange old penance 
 known to antiquaries as ' canophoria,' and imposed in some 
 parts of Europe on the knight who had been guilty of serious 
 crime. The penance consisted in the condemned person's 
 walking barefooted and bareheaded, and carrying a dog 
 
134 THE DOGS OF FOLK-LOEE, 
 
 across his shoulders, from the place where the crime had 
 been committed, either across the border, into the adjoining 
 ' county,' or to the great doors of the most important church 
 or monastery in the district.* The most frequent instances 
 of this kind of punishment occur in the chronicles of Northern 
 Europe ; but it was by no means confined to the remoter 
 shores of the Baltic ; and if our canine friend should not 
 chance to meet with it in his researches, he would certainly 
 come across numberless records of the hanging of dogs side by 
 side with human malefactors, — an insult which was in especial 
 favour when an unfortunate Jew happened to be the victim. 
 In short, notwithstanding the protection of St. Hubert and 
 St. Eoche, and in spite of all his sagacity and faithfulness, it 
 is certain, as Mr. Dasent has remarked after Grrimm, that 
 ' something unclean and impure ' — ^handed onward, no doubt, 
 from the primitive Oriental feeling — was associated with the 
 dog throughout the mediaeval period, and still clings to him 
 in popular tradition. His name is still as much a word of 
 reproach as when it was bestowed on the excommunicated 
 ' Cagots ' — ' Gothic dogs ; ' and his long wailing howl is just 
 as ominous now as when, in the great session of the Council 
 of Florence, at which Greeks and Latins met in the vain hope 
 of permanently arranging their theological differences, the 
 dog of the Emperor John Palseologus ' howled fiercely and 
 lamentably ' throughout his master's speech ; foretokening the 
 inutility of the Greek concessions, and the approaching con- 
 version of St. Sophia into a Mahommedan mosque. 
 
 If our antiquarian friend belong to the nobler class — the 
 true ' lords ' of dogs — ^he will, no doubt, meet these discoveries 
 
 * The earliest notices of this pinishment occur in the Francic and 
 Suevic laws, — a. sufficient proof of its antiquity. The noble carried a 
 dog ; the serf or unfree a saddle. The Emperor Frederick Barbarossa 
 compelled one of his most powerful counts, with ten of hia companions, 
 to walk thus in penance for a German mile, each of them carrying a 
 dog on his shoulders. 
 
HISTOET, AND BOMANCE. 135 
 
 with becoming dignity, and will gass them by with a brief 
 reflection on human pride and ingratitude. But ' my lady's 
 brach who lies by the fire ' — 
 
 ' the little dogs and all, 
 Tray, Blanche, and Sweetheart,' 
 
 will be more disagreeably affected. These are the dogs on 
 whom, as Mr. Ruskin tells us, Veronese and the rest of the 
 Venetians are ' so hard ; ' exemplifying, by their means, the 
 lowest forms of really human feeling — such as 'conceit, 
 gluttony, indolence, petulance.' The little 'curly, short- 
 nosed, fringy-pawed things, which all Venetian ladies petted,' 
 are thus introduced by Veronese in two of his greatest 
 pictures — the ' Presentation of his own family to the 
 Madonna,' at Dresden, and the ' Queen of Sheba before 
 Solomon,' at Turin. In the first, the dog is the ' last link in 
 the chain of lowering feeling ' (the others running through 
 Veronese's children, of different ages), and is walking away 
 much offended ; not a little wondering, as Mr. Ruskin 
 suggests, how the Madonna could possibly have got into 
 the house. In the second picture, whilst the Queen is over- 
 come with emotion, her dog 'is wholly unabashed by 
 Solomon's presence or anybody else's, and stands with his 
 fore-legs well apart, right in front of his mistress, thinking 
 everybody has lost his wits, and barking violently at one of 
 the attendants, who has set down a golden vase disrespectfully 
 near him.'* The ' fringy-paws,' according to Evelyn, were 
 carefully bred for sale in most of the ItaUan monasteries ; 
 and a Venetian contessa's father confessor, besides his spiritual 
 consolation, could supply his patroness with the ' dearest little 
 dog in the world,' and with the indispensable orange-flower 
 water and ' cedrat,' between the preparation of which, and 
 the breeding of lapdogs, the good fathers divided their 
 
 * Modern PamterSy vol. v. pp. 228-230. 
 
136 THE DOGS OP FOLK-LOEE, 
 
 attention. Many a fringy-paw found its way to England 
 among other ' fashions of proud Italy/ which the Flanders 
 galleys brought to Southampton on their homeward voyage ; 
 and it is against the devotion of the English ladies to these 
 ' sybaritical puppies ' — ^predecessors of the King Charleses 
 and the Blenheims immortalised by Landseer — that Harrison 
 lifts up his voice in the curious description of England pre- 
 fixed to Holinshed's Chronicle : — 
 
 ' They are little and prettie,' he says, ' proper and fine, and sought 
 out far and neere to satisfie the nice delicacie of daintie dames ; in- 
 struments of foUie to plaie and dallie withall, in trifling away the 
 treasure of time, to withdraw their minds from more commendable 
 exercises ... a sillie poore shift to shun their irksome idlenesse. 
 These Sybariticall puppies, the smaller they be (and thereto if they 
 have a hole in the forepart of their heads) the better they are accepted 
 ... as meet playfellows for minsing mistresses to bear in their 
 bosomes, to keep company withal in their chambers, to succour with 
 sleep in bed, to nourish with meat at boord, to lie in their laps and 
 licke their Kps as they lie (Uke young Dianaes) in their wagons and 
 coches. And good reason it should be so ; for coarsenesse with fine- 
 nesse hath no fellowship ; but featnesse with neatnesse hath neigh- 
 bourhood inough.'* 
 
 Neither Harrison nor Mr. Euskin, however, was privileged 
 to see so deeply into the matter as a certain monk of Bee, 
 who, in a vision, beheld two ladies of his acquaintance under- 
 going much suffering in purgatory, the result,' as they told 
 him, of an 'immoderate love of little dogs' during their 
 lifetime. According to this it must, we should fear, be faring 
 badly with Justus Lipsius, the learned professor of Louvain, 
 whose habit it was -to preside at lecture attended by a whole 
 tribe of similar pets. Indeed, such followers have their 
 inconveniences even in this upper world. Grave suspicion 
 wAs more than once awakened as to the exact nature of 
 Lipsius' attendants ; a suspicion which rose into certainty in 
 the case of Cornelius Agrippa's httle black dog ' Monsieur.' 
 
 The Venetian fringy-paws were only a variety of the dogs 
 * Description of England, book ii. chap. 7. 
 
HISTOET, AND EOMANCE. 137 
 
 of Malta — tie most ancient lapdogs of the Western world — 
 small, white, and silky; especial pets of the great Roman 
 ladies. ' When his favourite dog dies,' writes Theophrastus, 
 as an illustration of the character of the ' Vain man,' ' he 
 deposits the remains in a tomb, and erects a monument over 
 the grave, with an inscription — "Offspring of the stock of 
 Malta." ' The ' Vain man ' seems to have been rather anxious 
 that the world should know of how valuable a dog he had been 
 the possessor, than to have raised his monument from any 
 great regret for the ' Offspring of Malta.' Every variety of 
 motive indeed has led to the erection of canine monuments, 
 from the Cynosema on the Thracian .headland, to the ' Imago 
 Maidse ' before the hall-door of Abbotsford ; and we must 
 leave it for some modern Theophrastus or La Bruyfere to say 
 how far human vanity is to be traced underlying or inter- 
 mingling with them all. During the recent demolition of the 
 old chapel at Exeter College, Oxford, a small brass was found 
 with an inscription recording the loss of a favourite dog. This 
 is probably the only instance of canine commemoration in 
 such a place ; unless we may regard as a similar record of 
 affection the name ' Tirri,' inscribed below the dog of Dame 
 Alicia Cassey on her brass (date 1400), in the very interesting 
 church of Deerhurst in Gloucestershire. ' Tirri ' (are we to 
 recognise the modem ' Tray ' in the word ?) may have been 
 a most virtuous and gifted animal, and may have rendered 
 such inestimable services to his mistress as deserved an 
 enduring record. Unhappily his name alone survives ; whilst 
 of another and more famous dog — who has also found a place 
 on his master's tomb — we have the record of the services 
 without the name. It is impossible to determine how much, 
 not his master alone, but all Europe, owed to the spaniel 
 whose marble efSgy lies crouched at the feet of William the 
 Silent, the great founder of the Dutch Republic, on his tomb 
 in the church at Delft. It was this dog which saved the 
 
138 THE DOGS OF FOLK-LOEB, 
 
 Prince's life by springing forward, barking, and scratching 
 his master's face with his paws, when, in the night attack on 
 the camp before Mons, a band of Spanish arquebusiers were 
 on the point of entering the tent of William. His guards and 
 himself were in profound sleep, and there was but just time 
 for the Prince, after the spaniel had roused him, to mount a 
 horse which was ready saddled, and make his escape through 
 the darkness. His servants and attendants lost their lives. 
 ' To his dying day,' Mr. Motley tells us, ' the Prince ever 
 afterwards kept a spaniel of the same race in his bed- 
 chamber.' We hope — ^but we are nowhere told — ^that the 
 dog to whom ' free Friezeland ' and the struggling Dutch 
 provinces were so greatly indebted, managed to save his own 
 life in the midst of the confusion. 
 
 Whoever desires to see what amount of honour may be 
 rendered to the race by its more ardent admirers should 
 visit the canine necropolis at Goodwood, where the sides of 
 a deep hollow among the shrubberies aje filled with 
 tombs and tombstones, on which the ilames and merits of 
 departed favourites are duly recorded. A walk through this 
 final resting-place of virtue ought to be full of consolation 
 for the most snappish of fringy-paws. The tombstones of 
 about sixty dogs still remain, we believe, on the banks of a 
 large pond near the grotto at Oatlands. They were placed 
 there by the Duchess of York, who supplied their epitaphs, 
 one of which runs as follows : — 
 
 ' Pepper, near this silent grotto 
 Thy fair virtues lie confest ; 
 Fidelity thy constant motto : 
 
 Warmth of friendship speaks the rest.' 
 
 This Pepper was, perhaps, a 'bonny terrier, and a fell 
 chield at the vermin ; ' but the patriarchal Pepper of Charlie's 
 Hope, whose ' fair virtues ' remain unrecorded on the banks 
 of his native Liddel, would have passed by the tombstone 
 
HISTORY, AND BOMANCE. 139 
 
 with a growl of gentle contempt. In fact, it is no easy 
 matter to produce a good canine epitaph. One of the best 
 we know — 
 
 ' Life to the last enjoyed, here Pompey lies,' — 
 was placed by Hogarth on the tomb of his wife's dog, which 
 stiU remains at the end of a filbert-walk in the garden of the 
 house he occupied at Chiswick. Hogarth has appropriated 
 the line from Chnrchiirs ' Candidate ' — no doubt far more 
 truly applicable to Pompey than to its unfortunate inventor — 
 which the poet chose for his own tombstone at Dover. It is 
 curious enough that Pope was on the point of adopting the 
 epitaph of an infinitely greater poet than ChurchiU for the 
 tomb of his dog Bounce, who figures by the side of his master 
 in Richardson's portrait at Hagley. But Pope allowed him- 
 self to be persuaded that ' rare Bounce ! ' would savour of 
 disrespect to Ben Jonson. The inscription, however, would 
 have been at least as appropriate in the garden of the Twick- 
 enham villa as it is in the abbey transept. Scarcely less 
 briefly suggestive is Titania's call, ' Where's Peas-blossom ? ' 
 which we once saw above the resting-place of an honest brown 
 terrier, one of four brothers, named after the attendants of 
 the fairy queen, just as ' kind and courteous ' as those worthy 
 gentlemen, and just as eager to ' hop in the walks and gam- 
 bol in the eyes ' of their mortal mistress. 
 
 But a dog may have greatness thrust upon him by other 
 means than an epitaph. Hogarth has introduced his own dog 
 Crab in his portrait, and by so doing has conferred immor- 
 tality on a pug who, as far as his countenance goes, would cer- 
 tainly seem to have been something more than a namesake of 
 Launce's follower, ' the sourest-natured dog that lives.' Some 
 dogs, too, rise in the world with their masteirs. During Rous- 
 seau's Parisian celebrity, ' his very dog,' David Hume wrote 
 to Blair, ' which is no better than a coUie, had a name and 
 reputation.' David, we hope, was not jealous of the collie, 
 
140 THE DOGS OF POLE-LORE, 
 
 as Goldsmith undoubtedly would have been. He might 
 have remembered that a French literary lion has much in 
 common with a fine lady, and that the Blenheim of a true 
 ' belle of the ball-room ' will certainly be distinguished for her 
 
 ' And she was flattered, worshipped, bored ; 
 
 Her steps were watched ; her dress was noted ; 
 Her poodle dog was quite adored ; 
 
 Her sayings were extremely quoted. 
 She laughed — and all the world was glad 
 
 As if the taxes were abolished ; 
 She sighed — and every heart was sad 
 
 As if the Opera were demolished.' 
 
 Ariel himself undertook the charge of Shock on that day 
 when black omens threatened the fate of Belinda ; and Shock 
 in his turn lies embedded in. the imperishable amber of Pope's 
 verses. Even the ingratitude of a dog has occasionally 
 brought about his commemoration. Thus pleasantly does 
 M. Karr lament the desertion of his companion Schiitz : — 
 
 ' Et cependant cMtait un heureiiix ehien ! habitug du p^tissier Felix, 
 maltre dans la maison et au dehors, tellemeut que, quand nous sortions 
 ensemble, chacun a un des bouts d'tin cordon de sole, on pr^tendait 
 qu'il me tenait en laisse. Tons mes amis ^taient les siens. Gatayes 
 I'apellait "mon cousin ;" Victor Bohain I'invitait k diner k Palaiseau; 
 a Palaiseau, ou etait ce beau rosier sous lequel on se mettait h, Fabri 
 de soleil et de la pluie- — ce beau rosier qui est mort Faunae demiere. 
 Semblable &.-un arbre dont les feuilles tombent, Thomme voit succes- 
 sivement mourir autour de lui tout ce qu'il aime, tout ce qui lui plait. 
 Chaque jour on lui envoyait des gateaux et des bonbons ; les plus jolis 
 doigts blancs se mSlaient dans les soies noires de sa crinifere. Allons, 
 les chiens ne valent pas mieux que les hommes : Schiitz est parti — 
 Schiitz ne m'aimait pas — il ira a deux cents Meues d'ici avec des gens 
 qui ne demandent k un chien que d'Stre chien et f droce, et qui veulent 
 etre d^fendus par ltd. Cetait moi qui d^fendais Schiitz, et j'ai une 
 fois battu un charretier qui semblait vouloir lui donner un coup de 
 f ouet. Je garde son portrait et les coussins oranges sur lesquels il se 
 couchait ; I'orange lui aJlait si bien ! ' * 
 
 Schiitz, it is clear, was a thorough Parisian, in spite of his 
 * A, Karr, GenevUoe, t. ii. 
 
HISTOBT, AND BOMANCB, 141 
 
 name. His Paris, hovsever, is the Paris of the Boulevards 
 
 and of the Caf^ de I'Europe. He wants that air of the * grand 
 
 cour ' — that soupgon of powder and patches — ^which lingers 
 
 about Belinda's Shock or Horace Walpole's Patapan — 
 
 • so nice, whoever saw 
 A pearly drop on liis sofa 1 ' — 
 
 or most of all about the charming Fretillon, the little dog of 
 Madame d'Aulnoy's story, whose black eyes looked out from 
 under his Louis Quatorze wig — who barked at the fishes as 
 he took care of the Princess on the raft — and who, when all 
 his dangers were over, would condescend to eat nothing but 
 'perdrix' for the rest of his life. Frederick of Prussia's 
 Pompadour, who, as the great King declared, ' did not cost 
 him' half so much as that other Pompadour cost his brother 
 of France,' must of course have been a true French poodle ; 
 and we fancy her long silken ears tied up with blue ribbons 
 a la S^vign^, Let us hope that her morale was under better 
 regulation than that of her too famous namesake, and that 
 she resembled certain * levrettes ' celebrated by Balzac in one 
 of his novels, * dont les moeurs avaient quelque chose de la 
 discretion Anglaise.' 
 
 Frederick the Great seems to have been as constantly at- 
 tended by a tribe of little dogs as our own Charles IL, who 
 so much scandalised Mr. Pepys by talking to Nelly as she 
 leant over her garden wall, whilst the King stood in the 
 Pail-Mall below surrounded by his canine companions. The 
 ' Morcurius Rusticus ' for June, 1660, contains a curious 
 advertisement for a ' smooth black dog,' ' his Majesty's own 
 dog,' which, it has been suggested, may have come from the 
 King's own hand.* ' Whosoever findes him may acquaint 
 any at Whitehall ; for the dog was better known at court 
 than those who stole him. Will they never leave robbing 
 his Majesty ? Must he not keep a dog ? This dog's place, 
 * Quarterly Beview, No. 193. 
 
142 THE DOGS OF FOLK-LOBE, 
 
 though better than some imagine, is the only place 
 which nobody offers to beg.' The dog, it- is also said, 
 * doubtless was stolen, for it was not born nor bred in 
 England, and would never forsake its master.' It may 
 have been an old favourite of the King's at Breda or .at 
 Bruges. Something indeed of the laxity of canine manners 
 which formerly prevailed throughout the Low Countries 
 seems to have been imported into England, with the dogs 
 themselves, by returning loyalty. In many a quaint old 
 picture still to be seen in the Belgian churches, and recording 
 some remarkable event or miraculous ' guerison ' of which 
 they had been the scenes (there is a long series of such 
 historical pictures — of no value as works of art, but other- 
 wise full of interest — in one of the chapels of the cathedral 
 at Bruges), dogs of all sorts and sizes mingle as familiarly 
 with the congregation as if they held the doctrine of the 
 Jesuit Albertini, that every animal has its guardian angel, and 
 is interested in the most solemn offices of the altar.* Judging 
 from these pictures, however, the behaviour of the church- 
 going dogs of old Flanders was anything but reverential. 
 Some are quarrelling ; others have brought a bone into the 
 sacred building, and are growling over it ; and it is only here 
 and there that one is to be seen conducting himself with the 
 grave propriety of a Highland sheep-dog, who generally ac- 
 companies his master to kirk, listens to all appearance with 
 exemplary attention to the minister's ' sixthly,' and never once 
 attempts to add the music of his howl to the psalmody. In the 
 remoter parts of Scotland the dogs may have always made 
 part of the congregation, as indeed they may have done in 
 England in earlier and ruder times ; but it is after the 
 Restoration that they attract special attention, and that the 
 'dog-whipper,' — an officer still, we believe, attached to certain 
 
 * Albertini's curious treatise, De Angela Oustode, was published 
 in 1610. 
 
HISTOET, AND BOMANCE. 143 
 
 churches — was called upon to operate most actively. That 
 the canine intrusion lasted to the middle of the last century 
 appears from a curious paper by Bonnel Thornton, in the 
 'Connoisseur' for October 8th, 1755 : — 
 
 'We may often see,' he writes, 'a footman following his lady to 
 church with a large Common Prayer-book under one arm, and a 
 snarling cur under the other. I have known a grave divine forced to 
 stop short in the middle of a prayer, while the whole congregation has 
 been raised from their knees to attend to the howling of a non-con- 
 forming pug ; and I once saw a tragedy monarch disturbed in his last 
 moments, as he lay expiring on the carpet, by a discerning critic of 
 King Charles's black breed, who jumped out of the stage box, and 
 fastened upon the hero's periwig, brought it oflf in his mouth, and 
 lodged it in his lady's lap.' 
 
 The ' discernment ' of this cynical critic was exceeded, we 
 think, by that of a Newfoundland dog belonging to Mr. 
 Charles Kean; who, during the performance of 'Richard 
 III. ' at Exeter, and whilst his master was engaged in the 
 final combat on the field of Bos worth, rushed on the stage, 
 set upon the unlucky Richmond, and without the slightest 
 consideration for the text of Shakespeare, put him to a com- 
 plete and ignominious flight. 
 
 We have more than once referred incidentally to the few 
 dogs and ' doggish ' allusions introduced in the plays of the 
 great dramatist. Much indeed do we regret that they are so 
 few ; for such a dog as Launce's Crab is as completely indi- 
 vidualized as Launce himself, and stands out quite as clearly 
 and distinctly from the crowd of his brethren. Among the 
 many points of marked difference between the lighter litera- 
 ture of England and the Continent, the manner in which the 
 dog is introduced as one of the minor ' dramatis personaa ' 
 is especially characteristic. Poodles and lapdogs, with an 
 occasional ' levrette,' are almost the only representatives of 
 the canine race which figure in the yellow-wrapped ' Romans ' 
 wherewith modem Paris is content to amuse herself ; nor is 
 there much trace of a real appreciation of the more generous 
 
144 THE DOGS OP FOLK-LOEE, 
 
 kinds, at least, as friends and companions, in the whole range 
 of French literature. We cannot even except Montaigne ; 
 for although the garrulous old Gascon led a true 'vie de 
 campagne ' in his world-famous chateau, we cannot recall a 
 single passage in the essays in which the canine virtues are 
 so much as alluded to. Indeed, we cannot doubt that Mon- 
 taigne did not admit even a dog to share the solitude of his 
 turret hbrary. Had he done so, we should certainly have 
 been made acquainted with all its merits and peculiarities — 
 with the shape of its tail and ears, and the exact number of 
 spots on its back. On the other hand, there is scarcely one 
 great EngUsh poet, from Chaucer to Scott, who does not, 
 more or less directly, impress us with a conviction that he 
 was a true lover of dogs. The country life of England — the 
 fresh open air of its woods and downs — ^breathes throughout 
 its literature. Who can doubt that Shakespeare was a sports- 
 man? Many a time he may have roused the hart on 
 Ingon Hill with such hounds as those of Duke Theseus of 
 Athens — 
 
 ' So flevred, so sanded, and their heads are hung 
 
 With ears that sweep away the morning dew ; 
 
 Crook-kneed, and dewlapped like Thessalian bulls : 
 
 Slow in pursuit ; but matched in mouth like beUs, 
 
 Each under each . . ,' 
 
 We may be very sure that more than one especial favour- 
 ite — ^would we had their names to place in the most honoured 
 niches of our canine gallery ! — watched the steps of the poet 
 with loving eyes as -he paced the long garden terraces at 
 New Place. 
 
 Something perhaps of the feeling which, according to Mr. 
 Ruskin, led the great Venetian painters to pass by the nobler 
 quaUties of the dog in the presence of man — ' subduing it, 
 like an inferior light in presence of the sky ' — may have pre- 
 vented Shakespeare from giving us a more complete series of 
 canine portraits. But if we have to content ourselves with 
 
AND BOMANCE. 145 
 
 but few sketches from his master-hand, his great modern 
 representative has raised the dog ahnost to the dignity of a 
 principal personage. In the novels of Sir Walter's predecessors 
 a dog appears now and then, and is sometimes, as in those of 
 Fielding and Smollett, introduced happily enough. We do 
 remember the troubles of Chowder and Mrs. Tabitha Bramble. 
 But for the most part the canine portraits of these earlier 
 masters are touched in but slightly, and are soon forgotten ; 
 whilst Ban and Buscar, who dashed the dew from the lady- 
 fern by the side of Davie Grellatly ; httle Wasp, who, if he was 
 not so ' weel entered wi' the rations,' happily escaped the muti- 
 lations to which the race of Pepper and Mustard were liable ; 
 or Juno, that type of woman-kind, who ran off with Mr. 
 Oldbuck's buttered toast, rise before the 'mind's eye' as 
 distinctly as Waverley, or Henry Bertram, or the Antiquary, 
 and at once recall the whole group of characters belonging 
 to the story in which they figure. Every shade of canine feel- 
 ing, every development of canine nature, may be studied in 
 the pages of Sir Walter. ' Wherever,' in the words of Mr. 
 Adolphus, 'it is possible for a dog in any way to contri- 
 bute to the effect of a scene, we find there the very dog that 
 was required, in his proper place and attitude.' Happily we 
 are not left in ignorance of the names or the natures of 
 the dogs which attended their master in his wanderings by 
 Tweed side or on Yarrow. Camp, whose death Sir Walter 
 lamented as that of a friend, and the Giant Maida, who 
 ' sleeps soundly at his master's door,' will remain in kindly 
 connection with the greatest name in modem hterature, so 
 long as literature itself shall last. 
 
 It is in fact the gentlest nature — such a union of gentle- 
 ness with high independence and perfect courage as distin- 
 guished Sir Walter, ' the very perfect gentle knight ' — which 
 will most thoroughly appreciate the noble quahties of the dog, 
 and to which the dog in turn will be most ready to attach 
 
 10 
 
146 THE DOGS OF FOLK-LOBE, ETC. 
 
 himself. During a time of most anxious watching and obser- 
 vation, Collingwood, the very ideal of an English sailor, could 
 thus write to his wife about his Newfoundland, Bounce : — 
 
 ' Bounce is my only pet now, and he is indeed a good fellow. He 
 sleeps by the side of my cot whenever I lie in one, nntU near the time 
 of tacking, and then marches off to be out of hearing of the guns, for 
 he is not reconciled to them yet.' — (Off Cadiz, 1805.) 
 
 * 
 
 Bounce was present with his master at Trafalgar, in the 
 
 Royal Sovereign, and seems to have been unduly elated after 
 CoUingwood's elevation to the peerage. In writing to his 
 wife, after hoping that his daughters ' will not give them- 
 selves foolish airs,' the new-made Baron proceeds : — 
 
 ' I am out of aU patience with Bounce. The consequential airs he 
 gives himself since he became a Right Honourable dog are insuffer- 
 able; He considers it beneath his dignity to play with commoners' 
 dogs ; and, truly, thinks that he does them grace when he condescends 
 to lift his leg against them. This, I think, is carrying the insolence 
 of rank to the extreme : but he is a dog that does it.' 
 
 The master who could make his dog point a moral thus 
 pleasantly must have been gentle in every sense. 
 
 To what extent the best qualities of the dog react in their 
 turn upon the rougher classes of humanity we will not now 
 stop to inquire, although we fully believe that his influence 
 in this way is at times very considerable. A dog may be far 
 from the worst of teachers ; and in spite of the very ancient 
 prejudice against him, to which we have more than once 
 alluded, his opportunities of instruction have always been 
 enormous, and can never diminish. In a word, our philo- 
 sophy is that of the Prince of Denmark : — 
 
 ' Let Hercules himself do what he may. 
 The cat will mew, the dog wiU have his day.' 
 
IV. 
 
 THE CHANGE OF FAITH IN ICELAND. 
 AJ). 1000.* 
 
 AT the entrance to the Arsenal in Venice stand a pair of 
 colossal lions, brought from Athens in 1687, when 
 that city was taken by the Venetians under Francesco 
 Morosini. The Hons, which are of antique workmanship, and 
 have been celebrated in verse by Goethe, stood originally in 
 the Piraeus ; and on the side of one of them is carved a Runic 
 inscription,, which has recently been deciphered and explained 
 by the learned Northern archaeologist, M. C. C. Eafn. It 
 records the capture of the Pirsus by Harald Hardrada — that 
 famous ' King of Norse ' to whom his namesake, Harold of 
 England, promised ' seven feet of ground, or somewhat more, 
 as he was a tall man,*^ when the English king met and defeated 
 him at Stamford Bridge in Yorkshire, about a month before he 
 fell himself at Hastings. Before he became King of Norway, 
 Harald had been Captain of the Varangian Guard at Con- 
 stantinople ; and after the fall of the Piraeus had, no doubt, 
 employed the hand of one of his countrymen to trace, in the 
 mystic characters of the North, the story of his conquest on 
 the old Greek lion. 
 
 The fiercest viking spirit had become somewhat tamed 
 before the days of Harald Hardrada ; but this single monu- 
 ment, with the strange mixture of races and countries which 
 belongs to its history, is, perhaps, one of the most suggestive 
 * Qtiarterly Review, January, 1862. 
 
148 THE CHANGE OP S-AITH 
 
 memorials of the Northern sea-rovers remaining in Europe. 
 Full of interest as are all the details of their story, there is 
 nothing about it which takes a firmer hold on the imagina- 
 tion than the wide stretch of their wanderings and conquests, 
 the consequent jostling of the old world and the new, and 
 the sharply contrasted pictures thence arising, which the 
 Sagas indicate even more frequently than they supply at 
 full length. Far wanderings and strange adventures are at 
 once suggested when we read of a robe of Byzantine silk, 
 embroidered with golden palm-leaves, worn by some Kiartan 
 or Thorolf, and glancing in the red firelight of an Icelandic 
 drinking-hall ; or when we find the same Greek word as 
 Homer would have used employed to designate the support 
 of the mighty vessel of mead or of beer which cheered the 
 hearts of Norse sea-kings on the shores of Caithness, or 
 under the shadow of Heckla.* To meet Groliath of Gath in 
 an Icelandic version of his story, rejoicing in the title of 
 ' that accursed Viking,' is scarcely more startling or unex- 
 pected, t 
 
 Hoards of Byzantine and Oriental coins, with Greek and 
 Cufic inscriptions, are still brought to light from time to time 
 in Iceland and Norway ; — tangible relics of the old sea-kings, 
 and proofs of their distant wanderings. Traces of their 
 ancient presence may be found, too, on shores far from their 
 own countries, in the shape of some monumental stone with 
 its dragons and carved runes, or of such an inscription a-s that 
 
 * 'Trapeza' is the word used for the beer-table in more than one 
 Saga. Possibly a support forthe great mead- vat was itself a refinement 
 brought from Byzantium. 
 
 t The word 'viking,' as Mr. Dasent points out, is in no way akin to 
 'king.' 'It is derived from "vik," a bay or creek, because these sea 
 rovers lay moored in bays or creeks on the look-out for merchant ships. 
 The "ing" is a well-Jsnown ending, meaning, in this case, occupation or 
 calling. In later times the word is used for any robber,' as in the 
 Biblical paraphrase referred to above. — Dasent, Story of Burnt Njal, 
 vol. ii. p. 353. 
 
IN ICELAND. 149 
 
 on the Venetian lion. But wliat remains of their influence 
 on the cognate races with whom they mixed, first as con- 
 querors and then as colonists ? And how far is it possible to 
 recognise the lingering presence of the spirit of the North, 
 not only in the ' kirks ' and ' bys ' which dot the eastern and 
 northern counties of England, and in the Scandinavian words 
 and phrases which occur in the local dialects, but also in the 
 dispositions and character of the people themselves ? With- 
 out by any means asserting with Mr. Laing that we derive 
 little or nothing from our Saxon ancestors, and that we are 
 indebted to the infusion of Scandinavian blood for every free 
 institution and good gift we possess, we may at least admit 
 that the Northman has- had his full share, both through the 
 settlements of the Danelagh and the great cenquest at 
 Hastings, in the gradual formation of 
 
 ' This happy breed of men — ^this earth — this England.' 
 
 Hence, besides the picturesque character of the narratives 
 which show us the Northman in his own land — besides their 
 strongly contrasted colours and their wild lights and shades 
 — ^they have for us an especial interest as presenting us with 
 full-length portraits of our own ancestors — on one side at all 
 events — drawn with the minutest accuracy of detail, and as 
 full of life and character as the most speaking canvases of 
 Titian or Velasquez. It is not a little interesting to compare 
 the features of such remote kinsmen with those »f their- later 
 descendants, and to trace the Icelander of the tenth century 
 in the hospitable English Franklin of Chaucer's time, and, 
 still more clearly, in the Condottieri captaias, such as Hawk- 
 wood and Sir John Fastolfe, of the fifteenth century, or in 
 the adventurous sea-rovers, such as Drake and Cavendish, of 
 the sixteenth and seventeenth. 
 
 For the best aid towards such a comparison the English 
 reader is under the deepest obligation to Mr. Dasent, trans- 
 
150 THE CHANGE OE FAITH 
 
 lator of the Story of Burnt Njal. The Northman is nowhere 
 more completely shown to us than in the Sagas of ancient 
 Iceland ; and of these none is more important or more valu- 
 able, from the variety and minuteness of its details, than the 
 Njal's Saga. Only those who are acquainted, however im- 
 perfectly, with this grand old story in its original language, 
 can fully appreciate the beauty and fidelity of Mr. Dasent's 
 version. Not only is the clear and simple English such as 
 few modern writers — to their own infinite loss — care to 
 employ, but, without any affectation of antiquity, the words 
 most nearly related to the original Icelandic have been chosen 
 wherever it was possible; and the result is that the trans- 
 lation retains in a wonderful manner, not only the sub- 
 stance, but the colour and character of the original. Mr. 
 Dasent has had his predecessors in the wide field of Northern 
 literature : but hi« sketch of the ' Northmen in Iceland,' con- 
 tained in the volume .of Oxford Essays for 1858, and the 
 Introduction and .Appendices to his translation of the Njal's 
 Saga, are beyond all doubt the most valuable aids to a real 
 knowledge of the ancient North which the English reader 
 has hitherto received. 
 
 Of all the Icelandic Sagas, the Njala, according to Mr. 
 Dasent, whose judgment will be confirmed by every com- 
 petent scholar, ' bears away the palm for truthfulness and 
 beauty.' To use the words of. one well qualified to judge, it 
 is, as compared with all similar compositions, 'as gold to 
 brass.' Like all its brethren, or at least like all those which 
 relate to the same period, the Njal's Saga was not committed 
 to writing until about one hundred years after the events 
 which it records. It was handed down orally, told at the 
 Althings, 'at all great gatherings of the people, and over 
 many a fireside ; on sea-strand and river-bank, or up among 
 the dales and hills ; ' until at last, certainly before the year 
 1200, it was moulded into its present form. Of its general 
 
IN ICELAND. 151 
 
 truthfulness there can be no doubt. ' It was,' says Mr. Dasent, 
 ' considered a grave offence to public morality to tell a story 
 untruthfully : and besides internal evidence, the genuineness 
 of Njala is confirmed by other Sagas, and by songs and 
 annals, the latter of which are the earhest written records 
 which belong to the history of Iceland.' ' Much,' says the 
 translator, 'passes for history in other lands on far. slighter 
 grounds ; and many a story in Thucydides or Tacitus, or 
 even in Clarendon or Hume, is believed on evidence not one- 
 tenth part so trustworthy as that which supports the narratives 
 of these Icelandic story-tellers of the eleventh century.' We 
 may therefore safely trust to them for what no other country 
 perhaps in the world — certainly no other in Europe — can 
 supply : minute pictures of Kfe at one of the most important 
 periods of national history — ^that of the introduction of Chris- 
 tianity. It is this which gives an especial interest to the 
 Njala, the story of which extends from the middle of the 
 tenth to the first years of the eleventh century : thus embracing 
 a period of pure heathenism, the first attempts at conversion, 
 and the final reception of the new faith in the Althing of the 
 year 1000. We shall give our readers a sufficient idea of the 
 Saga, and introduce them to some of its most picturesque 
 passages, if we sketch as clearly as possible the history of this 
 change in Iceland, availing ourselves largely of the stores 
 collected by Mr. Dasent, but drawing also from such other 
 authorities as are within our reach. 
 
 The Norwegian Jarls and freemen who fled from the novel 
 rule of Harald Fairhair (a.d. 860-933), estabhshed themselves 
 for the most part on the coasts of England, Ireland, and Scot- 
 land, and on the neighbouring islands, especially Orkney and 
 Shetland. Some few — the first of whom was Ingolf, in the 
 year 874 — found their way across the Northern Sea to Iceland; 
 but that country did not receive its most important colonists 
 for some years after. Harald, who succeeded in consolidating 
 
152 
 
 THE CHANGE OF FAITH 
 
 the royal power in Norway after the fashion of Charles the' 
 Great on the Rhine and in the Gauls, and of Athelstane in 
 England, had rendered himself especially hateful to the free- 
 men of Norway by his attacks on their ancient rights ; and 
 after they had withdrawn from the struggle, besides ravaging 
 the chief shores of Western Europe, they revenged them- 
 selves on their former king by incessant pillages on those 
 of Norway itself. Harald determined to attack them in 
 their new settlements : — 
 
 'He called,' says Mr. Dasent, 'on his cMefs to follow him, levied a 
 mighty force, and, sailing suddenly with a mighty fleet which must 
 have seemed an armada in those days, he fell upon the Vikings in 
 Orkney and Shetland, in the Hebrides and Western Isles, in Man and 
 Anglesey, in the Lewes and Faroe ; wherever he could find them be 
 followed them up with fire and sword. Not once but twice he crossed 
 the sea after them, and tore them out so thoroughly, root and branch, 
 that we hear no more of these lands as a lair of Vikings, but as the 
 abode of Norse Jarls and their UdaUers, who look upon the new state 
 of things at home as right and just, and acknowledge the authority of 
 Harald and his successors by an allegiance more or less dutiful at 
 different times, but which was never afterwards entirely thrown off.' — 
 (Vol. i. pp. xi., xii.) 
 
 Great numbers of the Vikings thus driven from the British 
 Isles took refuge in Iceland. More than half the names 
 recorded in the Landndma-b6k — ^the ' Land- taking ' or Dooms- 
 \lay-book of Iceland, which contains the names and genealo- 
 gies of the first settlers — ^are those of freemen who had before 
 been settled on the coasts of Great Britain. 
 
 The manners, the institutions, and the religion brought 
 from Norway to Iceland by the first- colonists, are amply 
 described in Mr. Dasent's Introduction. We are here more 
 immediately concerned with them in so far as they influenced 
 the character of the Icelanders before conversion, and thereby 
 affected the change of faith itself, and the nature of the 
 Christianity which was then introduced. Two great points 
 are especially to be noticed : the reverence for law and for 
 
IN ICELAND. 163 
 
 legal forms which ihe Icelanders possessed in common with 
 all the Scandinavian and Teutonic races, and the duty of 
 revenge for bloodshedding — ^also a common heritage, but one. 
 which nowhere receives such ample illustration as in the 
 pages of the Njal's Saga itself. The right or duty of revenge 
 arose out of the right of property which every head of a 
 family was supposed to have in all his kinsmen and descend- 
 ants. A system of compensations for wounds or loss of life 
 was gradually introduced; and the person who did the wrong 
 might, in the words of the Saxon law, either ' buy off the 
 spear or bear it,' but one or the other he must do ; and the 
 relatives of the injured man were bound to carry out the feud 
 to the last extremities, if the injurer refused to pay the legal 
 fine or ' blood wite.' An almost identical system yet prevails 
 among the various Arab tribes ; but, according to Mr. Burton, 
 the duty of revenge has with them, at any rate in Arabia 
 itself, the effect of rendering infrequent such tribal or family 
 meetings, at which, as at the Icelandic althings or home festi- 
 vals, fights and loss of life would most probably occur. Such 
 is the Arab dread of the bloodshed which a feud would draw 
 out in its progress, or of the money fine which must otherwise 
 close it. Yery different was the feeling of the old Icelanders. 
 Odin, with them, was especially regarded as ' Valfader,' the 
 ' father of battle ;' an appeal to arms, in any shape, was an 
 appeal to heaven : — 
 
 'Victory,' says Mr. Daaent, 'was indeed the sign of a rightful cause, 
 and he that won the day remained behind to enjoy the rights which he 
 had won in fair fight ; but he that lost it, if he fell bravely and like a 
 man, if he truly believed his quarrel just, and brought it, without guile, 
 to the issue of the sword, went, by the very manner of his death, to a 
 better place.' — CVol. i. p. xxvii.) 
 
 Valhalla was ready for him. Hence the indifference to life 
 among the Icelanders, who believed, moreover, that an inex- 
 orable fate hung over each man's hfe, against which it was in 
 
154 THE CHANGE OF FAITH 
 
 vain to strive. To avoid a feud was thus not only unmanly, 
 but useless. In following up the ' duty of revenge,' all that 
 was essential was to act openly, like a man, and to show no 
 shame for what had been done. ' To kill a man, and say that 
 you had killed him, was manslaughter ; to kill him, and not 
 to take it on your hand, was murder.' In what manner this 
 leading principle of the heathen Icelander was affected by 
 Christianity we shall presently see. The reverence for law 
 and for legal forms, thoroughly illustrated in the history and 
 constitution of the Althing, of which Mr. Dasent gives an 
 admirable account, supplied the direct method by which the 
 change of faith was finally brought about. 
 
 Iceland continued heathen in its social life and in its 
 courts of law for more than one hundred years before the 
 first definite attempt at the conversion of the island. But it 
 would probably be wrong to imagine that Christianity was 
 entirely without influence, from the very first, on the national 
 character. Among the earliest settlers, the first who took 
 possession of the Western l)ales at the head of Hvammsfirth 
 was And the ' deeply wealthy,' mother of Thorstein the Red, 
 who had been king over a portion of Caithness, in Scotland, 
 where he was slain. On his death, in the year 892, Aud 
 removed to Iceland, with aU her wealth and her ' following.' 
 She was a Christian — ^the first woman of that faith who set 
 foot on the shore of the island, and the first to raise upon it 
 the great Christian symbol. The lofty craig in the Dale 
 country, on the top of which Aud set up the cross, is still 
 known as ' Krossholar,' the Cross-hills ; and although the 
 shadow which it flung over the valley was only the earnest of 
 a better time — ^for after Aud's death the cross was replaced 
 by a heathen temple — it is difficult to believe that the faith 
 introduced by so powerful a colonist, whose own character 
 was marked by some of the highest qualities of her race, 
 should have disappeared without leaving at least some recol- 
 
IN ICELAND. 155 
 
 lection behind it. At any rate, her last resting-place is still 
 pointed out. She would not lie in unconsecrated earth, and 
 was buried, according to her own desire, on the sands, below 
 high-water mark, underneath a great stone, ' covered with 
 mussel shells.'* More than one of the first settlers from Nor- 
 way also were ' half-Ohristians,' and were not unfavourably 
 disposed toward the new faith, without as yet abandoning 
 the old. Those who plundered and traded with foreign 
 lands — and every Icelandic Viking was at the same time a 
 'chapman' — were sometimes brought into closer relations 
 with the Christian religion. A ceremony called ' primsignaz,' 
 (' prima signatio,') which seems in effect to have been a form 
 of receiving a catechumen, t was frequently submitted to by 
 chapmen and others who frequented Christian countries; 
 ' For,' says the Saga of Egil Skallagrimson, ' they who had 
 received the primsignaz might enter into any commerce with 
 either Christians or heathens ; but in religion they held what- 
 ever seemed best to them.'f Thus Athelstane of England 
 required that Thorolf and his brother, a pair of famous 
 Northern champions whom he was about to receive among 
 his followers, should first undergo the 'primsignaz.' The 
 ceremony was no doubt insisted on from a dread of the 
 magical influences and other mysterious evils which might 
 result from the unrestrained communications of Christians 
 with -the heathen worshippers of Thor and Odin. It may 
 have been as purely formal as the Saga intimates, but at any 
 rate it brought the Northman into peaceful contact with the 
 Christian Church and its ministers, although he may have 
 gazed with some unhallowed longing upon the golden crucifix 
 and embroidered vestments of the priests who received him 
 
 * Metcalfe's Oxonicm in Iceland, p. 281. 
 
 t Perhaps resembling the 'Ordo ad faciendum Catechumenum' in 
 the Sa/rrnn Mcmual. See Proctor's Hist, of the Prayer Booh, p. 361, 
 t Egil's Saga, p. 265. 
 
166 THE CHANGE OP FAITH 
 
 at the door of the minster. Thus the services of the ' bell- 
 ringers,' as the Christian priests were called, were not alto- 
 gether novelties when they came to be introduced in Iceland ; 
 and, as on the Scandinavian mainland itself, the first seeds of 
 the new faith were no doubt planted there, however uncon- 
 sciously, by the half-merchants, half-pirates, who returned at 
 last to the island after long sojourn and service in Christian 
 lands. In the character of the noblest Icelanders, especially 
 towards the close of the heathen period, we may perhaps trace 
 something of a general Christian influence which seems to 
 have made itself felt over the whole North before the actual 
 establishment of the Church. Take, for example, that of 
 Thorwald Kodranson, called the 'far-farer,' who, while still a 
 heathen, took service, toward the close of the tenth century, 
 with Sweyn Forkbeard, King of Denmark : — 
 
 ' Thorwald,' says the Saga, ' had not been long with King Sweyn ere 
 the ]png set more store by him than by all his other men and friends ; 
 for Thorwald was a great man for good counsel, manifesting to every 
 man his worth and foresight, strong in body and bold of heart, keen in 
 combat and quick in battle, mild in temper and bountiful of money, 
 and proved for trustiness and gentleness ; beloved and befriended by 
 aU the king's followers, and not unworthily ; for even then, as a heathen, 
 he showed his justice before that of other heathens, insomuch that all 
 his share of plunder which he got on their cruises he bestowed on the 
 needy and in ransoming captives ; and thus he helped many who were 
 
 in bad case Now, inasmuch as he was bolder in battle than 
 
 others of the king's band, so they passed a law that he was to have the 
 first choice of aU their spoil ; but he made this use of that honour, that 
 he chose the sons of great men, or those things else which those who 
 had lost them set most store by, but which his messmates cared least 
 to give up, and sent them afterwards to those to whom they had 
 belonged By that means .... he set free King Sweyn him- 
 self. It so fell out that once on a time King Sweyn harried in Wales 
 .... and was there taken captive and cast into a dungeon, and 
 Thorwald Kodranson along with him, and many other men of worth 
 and rank. Next day came a mighty leader to the dark dungeon, with 
 a great company, to take Thorwald out of prison ; for a little while 
 before he had set free the sons of this very leader, who had been taken 
 captive, and sent them home free to their father. The leader bade 
 Thorwald to come out and go away a free man ; but Thorwald swore 
 
IN ICELAND. 157 
 
 that he would never go thence alive, unless King Sweyn were loosed 
 and set free with all his men. The leader did this at once for his sake, 
 as King Sweyn himself bore witness afterwards when he sat at a splen- 
 did feast with two other kings. And when the meat was set on the 
 board, then one lord said that there would never again be a board so 
 nobly filled as that, when three such mighty kings ate out of one dish. 
 Then answers King Sweyn, with a smile, "I will find that stranger 
 yeoman's son who alone has in himself, if right worth be set on it, not 
 one whit less glory and true honour than all we three kings." Now 
 there was much mirth at that in the hall ; and all asked, with a laugh, 
 where or what sort of man this might be of whom he teUs such mighty 
 fame. He answers, " This man of whom I speak is as wise as it befits 
 a prudent king to be, as strong and stout-hearted as the most daunt- 
 less Baresark, and as good and gentle-hearted as the most virtuous 
 sage." After that he told them of Thorwald that story which was 
 written above, and how he set the king free for the sake of his friend- 
 ship and for the sake of many other praiseworthy deeds.' * 
 
 Such is the character claimed by Mr. Dasent as that of 
 the better class of Vikings. Without, however, in any way 
 depreciating the noble qualities inherent in the race, we 
 cannot but think that another and a higher influence is to 
 be traced here. Thorwald — whom we shall presently meet 
 as the first preacher of Christianity in Iceland — reminds us, 
 while yet a heathen, of Sir Lancelot in the Morte d' Arthur, 
 the gentlest and most courteous of knights in hall, the 
 sternest and bravest in ' press of battle.' 
 
 But the most complete picture of, the better Icelander 
 during the heathen period is found in the pages of the 
 Njal's Saga itself; the first portion of which is mainly occu- 
 pied with the fortunes of Grunnar of Lithend, whose story, 
 with that of Njal of Bergthorsknoll, has rendered the district 
 of the Landeyar, backed as it is with the grand ' Three- 
 corner ' mountain, as completely romantic ground as the 
 country about another ' triple height ' — 
 
 ' Where fair Tweed flows round holy Melrose, 
 And Eildon slopes to the plain.' 
 
 * Dasent, ii., pp. 356-7, from the Bishupa SSgur. 
 
158 THE CHANGE OF FAITH 
 
 Gunnar is thus introduced : — 
 
 'He was a tall man in growth, and a strong man — best skilled in 
 arms of all men. He conld cut, or thrust, or shoot, if he chose, as well 
 with his left as with his right hand ; and he smote so swiftly with his 
 sword, that three seemed to flash through the air at once. He was the 
 best shot with the bow of all men, and never missed his mark. He 
 could leap more than his own height with all his war-gear, and as far 
 backwards as forwards. He could swim like a seal, and there was no 
 game in which it was any good for any one to strive with him ; and so 
 it has been said that no man was his match. He was handsome of 
 feature, and fair-skinned. His nose was straight, and a little turned 
 up at the end. He was blue-eyed, and bright-eyed, and ruddy cheeked. 
 His hair thick, and of good hue, and hanging down in comely curls. 
 The most courteous of men was he, of sturdy frame and strong will, 
 bountiful and gentle, a fast friend, but hard to please when making 
 them. He was wealthy in goods.' — (Vol. i. p. 60.) 
 
 The events of Gunnar's life are brought before us with 
 wonderful reality in the Saga. There we are told how he 
 ' fared abroad ' as a sea-rover, and won his famous war-bill 
 in a fight with pirates off the coast of Esthonia — the bill that 
 was made by 'seething spells,' and that foretold a coming 
 fight by a loud ringing sound as it hung on the wall, and by 
 breaking forth into a ' rain of blood-drops ;' how, too, at the 
 Althing, he wooed the fair Halgerda in a brief and bold 
 fashion well fitting the lady, who had already disposed of one 
 husband who did not suit her : — 
 
 ' She spoke up boldly to him, and bade him teU her of his voyages ; 
 
 but he said he would not gainsay her a talk So they talked 
 
 long out loud, and at last it came about that he asked whether she 
 were unmarried. She said so it was ; " and there were not many who 
 would run the risk of that." 
 
 ' " Thinkest thou none good enough for thee ? " 
 
 '"Not that," she says; "but lam said to be hard to please in 
 husbands ." 
 
 ' " How wouldst thou answer were I to ask for thee 1 " 
 
 ' " That cannot be in thy mind," she says. 
 
 ' " It is though," says he. 
 
 ' " If thou hast any mind that way, go and see my father." 
 
 ' After that they broke off their talk.'— (Vol. i. p. 98.) 
 
 From this marriage sprang the feud which is carried through 
 
IN ICELAND. 159 
 
 the whole Saga, and which at last brought about the burning 
 of Njal, with his wife and sons. The evil nature of Halgerda, 
 and the mischief that would arise from her, had been ' fbre- 
 spaed' when she was still a child ; and after her marriage 
 with Grunnar, Njal, who was possessed of a mysterious fore- 
 knowledge, frequently noticed in the Sagas, and which seems 
 greatly to have resembled the second sight of the Gael, de- 
 clared that she ' wotdd come very near' to spoil the friendship 
 between himself and Gunnar, who, he added, ' would have al- 
 ways to make atonement for her.' Death after death, murder 
 after murder, resulted from the quarrel which soon fell out 
 between Halgerda and Bergthora, the wife of Njal ; but the 
 friendship was not broken. ' I will hold to my faithfulness 
 to thee,' said Njal, when the feud had long been ragiag, 'till 
 my death-day ;' and both he and Gunnar, who might have 
 refused to receive compensation for the frequent slaughter of 
 kinsmen and house-thralls, generally settled the blood-fine 
 between themselves, until Gunnar, hard beset and injured, 
 took to avenge his own wrongs, though unwillingly. ' I 
 would like to know,' he asked, ' whether I am by so much 
 the less brisk and bold than other men, because I think more 
 of killing men than they.' 
 
 At last a great fight took place on the Bang river, at 
 which Gunnar and his brothers kiUed many of their enemies. 
 At the following Althing, atonement for this loss of life was 
 decreed; and Gunnar was ordered into exile for three years. 
 Accordingly, he prepares to depart : — 
 
 ' The day after, he gets ready early for his journey to the ship, and 
 told all his people that he wotdd ride away for good and all ; and 
 men took that much to heart ; but stUl they said that they looked to 
 his coming back afterwards. 
 
 ' Gunnar threw his arms round each of the household when he was 
 " boun," and every one of them went out of doors with him ; he leans 
 on the butt of his spear, and leaps into the saddle ; and he and 
 Kolskegg ride away. 
 
 ' They ride down along Markfleet, and just then Gunnar's horse 
 
160 THE CHANGE OF FAITH 
 
 tripped and threw him oflf. He turned with his face up toward the 
 Lithe and the homestead at Lithend, and said — 
 
 ' "Fair is the Lithe ; so fair that it has never seemed to me so fair ; 
 the corn-fields are white to harvest, and the home mead is mown ; and 
 now I will ride back home and not fare abroad at all." 
 
 ' " Do not this joy to thy foes," says Kolskegg, " by breaking thy 
 atonement ; for no man could think thou wouldst do thus, and thou 
 mayst be sure that all will happen as Njal has said." 
 
 ' " I will not go away any whither," says Gunnar ; " and so I would 
 thou shouldst do too." '—(Vol. i. p. 236.) 
 
 Njal, the ' far-seer/ had predicted that if Gunnar broke his 
 atonement he would he slain 'here in the land; and that is 
 ill-knowing for those who are thy friends.' Njal was a 
 true prophet. During the next summer's 'Thing,' Gfizur 
 the White summoned all Gunnar's foes to meet in the 
 ' Almannagya,' the great volcanic rift which bounds the 
 plain of the Althing on its eastern side. At that meeting an 
 onslaught was planned against Gunnar. Njal warned him 
 of it in vain; and in the autumn Gizur the White and his 
 company rode to Lithend and attacked the house by night. 
 There, after Aunund of Witchwood had killed Samr, 
 Gunnar's Irish hound, who gave ' such a great howl that they 
 thought it passing strange ' — 
 
 ' Gunnar woke up in his hall, and said — 
 
 '"Thou hast been sorely treated, Samr, my fosterling; and this 
 warning is so meant that our deaths will not be far apart. ..." 
 
 ' Gunnar slept in a loft above the hall, and so did Halgerda and his 
 mother. . . . 
 
 ' Thorgrim the Basterling went and began to climb up on the hall. 
 Gunnar sees that a red kirtle passed before the window-slit, and 
 thrusts out the biU, and smote him on the middle. Thorgrim's feet 
 slipped from under him, and he dropped -his shield, and down he 
 toppled from the roof. 
 
 ' Then he goes to Gizur and his band, as they sat on the ground. 
 
 ' Gizur looked at him, and said — 
 
 ' " Well, is Gunnar at home 1 " 
 
 ' " Find out that for yourselves," said Thorgrim ; " but this I am 
 sure of, that his bill is at home." 
 
 ' And with that he fell down dead.'— (Vol i. p. 242.) 
 
 The foes attacked the houefe, and at last pulled oif the roof 
 
IN ICELAKD. 161 
 
 of the hall with ropes ; Grunnar wounded eight men and killed 
 two, and got himself two wounds ; ' and all men said that he 
 never once winced either at wounds or death.' His life 
 might yet have been saved, but for the malice of the wicked 
 Halgerda. His bowstring had been cut in two by Thor- 
 brand, who in return had been deft asunder by the famous 
 bill:— 
 
 ' Then Gunnar said to Halgerda, " Give me two locks of thy hair, 
 and ye two, my mother ; and thou twist them together into a bowstring 
 for me." 
 
 ' " Does aught lie on it ? " she says. 
 
 ' " My life lies on it," he said ; " for they will never come to close 
 quarters with me if I can help them off with my bow." 
 
 ' " Well," she says, "now I will call to mind that slap on the face 
 which thou gavest me ; and I care never a whit whether thou holdest 
 out a long while or a short." ' — (Vol. i. p. 245.) 
 
 In spite of Halgerda's refusal, Gunnar- kept his foes all off 
 
 until he fell worn out with toil: — 
 
 ' Then they wounded him with many and great wounds, but stiU he 
 got away out of their hands, and held his own against them a while 
 longer, but at last it came about that they slew him. 
 
 ' Then Gizur spoke and said, " We have now laid low on earth a 
 mighty chief, and hard work it has been, and the fame of this defence 
 of his shall last as long as men live in this land." 
 
 'After that he went to see Bannveig (Gunnar's mother), and said, 
 " Wilt thou grant us earth here for two of our men who are dead, that 
 they may lie in a cairn here ? " 
 
 ' " All the more willingly for two," she says, " because I wish with 
 all my heart I had to grant it for all of you." 
 
 ' " It must be forgiven thee," he says, " to speak thus, for thou hast 
 had a great loss." 
 
 ' Then he gave orders that no man should spoil or rob anything 
 there. 
 
 ' After that they went away.'— (Vol. i. pp. 246, 247.) 
 
 So fell one of the noblest Icelanders whose adventures are 
 recorded in the Sagas ; with whom, thanks to Mr. Dasent, the 
 English reader may form a far more intimate acquaintance 
 than is at all possible with the most famous hero of romance.* 
 
 * Mr. Metcalfe, who gives (Oxonian in Icdcmd, p. 364) a very 
 interesting account of the present state of Lithend, tells us that the 
 
 11 
 
162 THE CHANGE OF FAITH 
 
 Gunnar fell in the year 990. There is no indication in 
 the Saga of his having been brought more directly under 
 Christian influence than appears in his noble character; yet, 
 nearly ten years before his death, the first definite attempt at 
 the couYersion of the island had been undertaken. We must 
 return to Thorwald Kodranson, the 'far-farer,' whom we 
 have already encountered as one of the best of heathen 
 Vikings. In one of his many wanderings Thorwald visited 
 the country of the Saxons, and was there converted and 
 baptized by a priest named Frederick. Neither country nor 
 priest can be distinctly recognized from the brief notice of 
 the Saga ; but, although we should gladly believe that the 
 'country of the Saxons' was England, and that Frederick 
 was an Englishman, it is more probable that the Saxon 
 country is to be sougbt on the borders of the Elbe, and that 
 the priest belonged to the Archiepiscopal. Church of Ham- 
 burgh — the outpost which Charles the Great had founded, and 
 which had long served as a great missionary station for the 
 conversion of the North. A bull of Pope Gregory IV. 
 appointed the first Arcbbishop, St. Anschar, and his suc- 
 cessors, 'legates ' and missionaries over the whole of North- 
 ern Europe : and it was possibly with the permission of 
 Adeldag, then Archbishop of Hamburgh, that Frederick, 
 after consecration as ' chorepiscopus,' set out with his new 
 convert, Thorwald, for Iceland in the spring of the year 
 981. 
 
 Thorwald's bome was at Gilia in Vatnsdal, in the northern 
 division of the island ; and although, from the bishop's igno- 
 rance of Norse, Thorwald was obliged to act as interpreter, 
 a considerable effect was at once produced throughout the 
 
 cairn in which the hero is buried sitting upright, and in which he was 
 heard singing after his burial (Saga, ch. 77), is still pointed out, near 
 the traditional site of his skiU, or haU. 'To the right of the path 
 which leads thither, a little mound marks the resting-place of the 
 faithful Samr, his big Irish hound. 
 
IN ICELAND. 163 
 
 district. Three of the most wealthy landowners were baptized : 
 another consented to receive the 'primsignaz j' and during 
 the following winter, Kodran, the father of Thorwald, who 
 had been a Viking of no small reputation, changed his faith 
 and was baptized with aU his household — one son, Orm, 
 alone excepted. According to the Sagas, the conversion of 
 the old Viking was the result of a struggle between the 
 Christian bishop and a household spirit (fylgia ?) especially 
 honoured by Kodran. The home of the spirit, who protected 
 the household and the flocks of Kodran, and who predicted 
 future events for him, was a great block of stone in the 
 Vatnsdal. Bishop Fredeisick, wearing his episcopal robes, 
 went to it in solemn procession, and after chanting over the 
 stone, sprinkled it with holy water. On the following night 
 the spirit, who seems to have been a true northern eK, 
 presented himself to Kodran, all sad and trembling, and 
 reproached him with the wrong he had permitted. ' The men 
 thou hast brought here,' he complained, 'have poured hot 
 water on my house, and my children have been scalded by the 
 drops which feU through the roof. It has not hurt me much ; 
 but it is hard to bear the crying of the bairns.' Twice again 
 the bishop sprinkled the stone j and twice again the spirit 
 appeared to Kodran, each time with sadder looks, and with 
 dress more stained and tattered. ' This Christian bishop,' he 
 said, ' has spoilt my house and my clothes, and has scalded 
 me and my children, so that we can never be cured. Now 
 we must go far into the mountains.' * The stone itself split 
 into fragments ; f and Kodran, who recognised the superior 
 power of the bishop, was immediately baptized. 
 
 For four succeeding winters the head-quarters of Thorwald 
 and Bishop Frederick were at Lsekiamot in Vididal. During 
 
 * Olaf Tryggvison's Saga, ch. 131. 
 
 t Kristni-Saga, ch. 2. This story is remarkable for its close re- 
 semblance to later folk-lore. 
 
164 THE CHANGE OF FAITH 
 
 the summers they passed far and wide throughout the island ; 
 but the results of their teaching were most evident in the 
 Northern quarter, where it had commenced. At a great 
 harvest feast in Vatnsdal, where the Christians were 
 separated from the heathens by curtains hung across the 
 hall, * Bishop Frederick is said to have outmatched a pair of 
 fierce Berserks, who used to pass through the hearth fire with 
 impunity, but who, on this occasion, after the bishop had 
 blessed the flames, fell in the midst, and were carried out 
 dead. Thorkel Krafla, the chief personage in Vatnsdal, 
 consented to receive the ' prinisignaz ' in consequence. Such 
 stories lost nothing with advandngr years ; but it is sufiiciently 
 clear that, however produced, a great dread of the Christians, 
 and of interference with them, was beginning to prevail 
 throughout the island. In the North, where many idols had 
 been destroyed, and where the temple offerings were begin- 
 ning to fail, Thorwald Spakbodvarson had built the first 
 Christian church at As, on the bank of the Hialtadal river, 
 where its site is still pointed out. It was served by one of 
 the priests of Bishop Frederick's following. This church, 
 built like their own temples, -of driftwood, and roofed with 
 turfs, was a perpetual eyesore to the heathens of the district ; 
 and Klaufi, one of the chief men of the quarter, made two 
 attempts to destroy it, both of which were, according to tie 
 Saga, miraculously averted. The church had probably been 
 watched by Thorwald ; and, with the exception of a few fresh 
 turfs now and then added to the roof, this first rude resting- 
 place of the faith in Iceland t remained as Thorwald had 
 built it for some centuries after the conversion of the whole 
 
 * Olaf Tryggvison's Saga, ch. 132. 
 
 t Thorwald Bodvaxson, the builder of this chiirch, is generally said 
 to have been converted by Bishop Frederick. Others, however (and 
 apparently with reason), assert that he was converted in England, and 
 that he brought from this country the materials for the first Christian 
 church in Iceland (Olaf s Saga, ch. 226). 
 
IN ICELAND. 165 
 
 country. A relic of Bishop Frederick's time may still be 
 seen at Hvanm, the settlement of Aud the wealthy. On the 
 church door is fastened a ring, which is said to have 
 belonged to the old heathen temple, in which Fridgerda, wife 
 of the then lord of Hvanm, was heard loudly invoking the 
 ancient deities, whilst the Saxon bishop was preaching close 
 without.* 
 
 It was after their success in the northern quarter that 
 Bishop Frederick and Thorwald appeared at the Althing, and 
 that Thorwald, with the bishop at his side, addressed the 
 people from that famous ' Logberg ' — the hill of the law — 
 which stUl rises, in the midst of its lava rifts, at the head of the 
 lake of Thingvalla. Full of stirring memories as is the whole 
 plain of the Althing, and grand as are the figures which haunt 
 the foundations of the ruined bothies, few more striking scenes 
 can rise to the mind's eye of the traveller, as he crushes 
 the wild thyme on the now silent hill of the law, than> this, 
 when a Christian bishop, with the cross uplifted at his side, 
 stood for the first time in the midst of the fierce Thingmen, 
 carrying his life in his hand, and proclaiming the true 
 ' Bagnarokr ' — the real ' twilight ' of the old gods. As before, 
 Thorwald acted as his interpreter j and the heathen par^y, 
 with a certain Hedinn as their chief, assailed him so bitterly 
 with mocking rhymes- — a favourite Icelandic weapon — that 
 the Asking spirit was roused once more in the breast of the 
 Christian Thorwald, who killed two men before the close of 
 the Althing. Little seems to have been effected by the 
 bishop's appearance on the Law Mount. The heathens were 
 as yet in full strength ; and although a certain fear of the 
 Christians — probably from an idea of their skill as magicians 
 — seems to have prevailed, they were unable to appear again 
 at the Althing. Thorwald and the bishop were declared 
 legally guilty of the two deaths ; and at the next year's 
 * Kristni-Saga ; Metcalfe, Oxonian in Iceland, p. 279. 
 
166 THE CHANGE OF FAITH 
 
 Althing a company of the chief men set out for Lsekiamot to 
 burn the bishop, which they would have done had they not 
 been ' thrown into confusion' by the way. Bishop Frederick, 
 however, seems to have perceived that his further labours at 
 this time would be in vain. After passing four years in 
 Iceland, he crossed to Norway with Thorwald, There, as 
 their ship was still in the haven, Thorwald was told that 
 Hedinn, the Icelander who had taunted him at the Althing, 
 was on shore and close at" hand. The spirit of revenge leapt 
 again to life ; and, accompanied by a single thrall, Thorwald 
 laid wait for Hedinn and killed him. Seeing him ' so greedy 
 of revenge,' the bishop broke up the brotherhood and returned 
 south to ' Saxland,' where he died, says the Saga, ' truly a 
 saint-like man.' The end of Thorwald the 'farfarer,' the 
 best of Vikings, if but an imperfect Christian, is not so certain. 
 The Kristni-Saga asserts that, after long wanderings in the 
 Holy Iiand and elsewhere, he ' received Christ's quiet ' in 
 Russia, and was buried in a church dedicated to St. John the 
 Baptist on the top of a mountain, near which he had built 
 a monastery. There he was himself reckoned among the 
 saints.* Others assert that he served for some time in the 
 Varangian guard at Byzantium, and that he built there a 
 monastery, in which he became a monk ; t one of the most 
 striking examples, if not the earliest, of that devotion to the 
 monastic life which was afterwards so conspicuous among the 
 brethren of Thorwald in England and in Normandy. 
 
 Ten years passed away after the departure of Bishop 
 Frederick, before a second attempt was made to convert 
 the island. In the meantime Olaf Tryggvi's son, the royal 
 ' Apostle ' of Norway, had been converted and baptized in one 
 
 * Kristtd-Saga, ch. 12. 'He was honoured by all bishops and 
 abbots throughout the Greek empire, and throughout Syria.' — Olaf 
 Tryggvison's Saga, ch. 138. 
 
 t F. JohannsBus, Hist. Eccks. IslandAx, i. p. 47. 
 
IN ICELAND. 167 
 
 of the Scilly islands (a.d. 993).* Two years later (995) Olaf 
 became King of Norway, and commenced at once 'the intro- 
 duction of Christianity throughout his dominions at the point 
 of the sword. Before his return Olaf had received among his 
 followers an Icelander named Stefner, who had been con- 
 verted in Denmark, where he had fallen in with Thorwald 
 the 'far-farer,' after his separation from Bishop Frederick. 
 With him Steiher had made a pilgrimage to the East, and to 
 the 'holy places.' At Olaf s request he now proceeded to 
 Iceland as a Christian missionary. But Stefner's Christianity 
 was scarcely more advanced than that of the royal Viking ; 
 and after a bad reception from the inhabitants, and after 
 preaching in vain along the northern and southern coasts, 
 he attempted stronger measures, and proceeded to burn the 
 temples and to destroy the images of the gods. This violent 
 argument, which Olaf managed with tolerable success in 
 Norway, was not duly appreciated in Iceland. Stefner was 
 set upon by the fierce worshippers of Odin and of Thor, and 
 escaped with difficulty to Kialarnes, where he lay hid for some 
 time among his own kinsmen. During the winter his ship, 
 which had been laid up at the mouth of iJie Grulfa river, was 
 driven out to sea. The god Freyr — 'all-riker Freyr' — Freyr 
 the 'all-rich' or all-powerful — thus avenged himself, accord- 
 ing to the versed-makers, for the insult which had been 
 offered his dominions. The ship, however, was thrown back 
 on the coast, shattered, but capable of repair; and in the 
 following summer Stefner, from her deck, looked for the last 
 time on the snowy peaks of the Icelandic Jokiills. At the 
 previous Althing a law had been passed forbidding ' fire and 
 
 * Olaf 's Saga, ch. 78, 79. According to the Saga, Olaf was persuaded 
 to embrace Christianity by a ' spaman ' or hermit, on another of the 
 islands, who foretold much of his future Uf e. He was baptized by the 
 abbot of a rich monastery. The only monastic establishment in Scilly 
 of which any record survives was a cell of Tavistock Abbey, that cer- 
 tainly existed on the island of Treaco before the Conquest, 
 
168 THE CHANGE OP FAITH 
 
 water' to all those who should preach or embrace the new 
 faith, and ordering the kinsmen of the offender to take up 
 the action against him at the Law Mount. In this manner 
 Stefner had been accused and exiled. 
 
 Up to this time the heathen party was by far the most 
 powerful in the island. In the old religion of the Northmen 
 there was a certain recognition of its own imperfection,* and 
 the faith of the Icelanders in Thor and his brethren may not 
 at this period have been profound ; but there was a strong 
 feeling that the teaching of the 'White Christ' would weaken 
 the arm and subdue the courage of all those who listened to it. 
 Everywhere, throughout the North, Christianity seems to 
 have been thus regarded on its first introduction ; and it has 
 been suggested, with much probability, that the systematic 
 descents of the Northmen on the coasts of Western Europe, 
 throughout the ninth and tenth centuries, were undertaken, 
 not from love of plunder only, but from a strong feeling of 
 the opposition of the Christian faith, every day advancing 
 farther northward, to the fierce, death-despising spirit of the 
 true son of Odin.t Besides this general hatred of Chris- 
 tianity, there was in Iceland a distrust of any change intro- 
 duced from Norway, the country from which the first 
 colonists had separated themselves for the sake of freedom ; 
 and the threatened loss of the temple-offeringsi — which soon 
 after Bishop Frederick's arrival had become a reality in 
 the northern quarter — no doubt powerfully influenced the 
 'hofmen' or priests, always the chief personages of the 
 district. 
 
 In spite of all this, however, and in spite of the law which 
 had just been passed at the Althing, it is clear that the 
 Christians had never entirely lost their ground. The year 
 
 * Dasent, Burnt Njal, i. p. xvi. 
 
 t See Mr. Dasent's ' Norsemen in Iceland,' in the Oxford Essays for 
 1858, p. 166. 
 
IN ICELAND. 169 
 
 after Stefner had been driven from Iceland, Olaf despatched 
 thither a second missionary, whose Christianity was at 
 least as fiercely muscular as that of his predecessor. This 
 was a priest named Thangbrand, son of Wilibald, Count of 
 Bremen, and a ' clerk ' of Adalbert, Bishop of Ajos in Jutland. 
 The Saga of Olaf Tryggvison, probably first compiled toward 
 the end of the twelfth century by an Icelandic monk, who 
 collected with especial delight all the legendary stories which 
 grew up round the record of the king's conversion, gives us a 
 curious account of Olaf 's. early connection with Thangbrand. 
 Bishop Adalbert, attended by a large ' following,' in which 
 Thangbrand was included, once, it is said, visited his brother 
 Hubert, Bishop of 'Kantaraborg,' or Canterbury.* Hubert 
 distributed rich gifts to his guests on their departure ; and 
 when he came to Thangbrand, he said, 'Thou folio west the 
 fashions of a knight, although thou art a clerk ; therefore 
 I give thee this shield, on which is marked the holy cross, 
 with the likeness of our Lord Christ. It will remind thee of 
 thine office.' It afterwards fell out that Olaf Tryggvison, 
 during one of his forays in 'Saxland,' encountered Thang- 
 brand, bearing this very shield. Struck with its device, he 
 asked ' who it was that ' Christian men thus reverenced.' 
 ' Our Lord Jesus Christ,' answered Thangbrand. 'And what 
 had he done,' asked Olaf, 'that he was thus tormented?' 
 Then Thangbrand, says the Saga, 'explained to him with 
 great care the passion of our Lord, and all the marvels of 
 the Cross.' And Olaf, before leaving him, bought his shield 
 
 * The name is so given in the Saga of Olaf Tryggvison, and in the 
 Kristm-Saga. Whatever truth there may be in the story, however, 
 Hubert cannot be identified with any archbishop of Canterbury, nor 
 can he have been a suffragan bishop of St. Martin's, as the editor of 
 the KristmrSaga suggests. The name of his true see had possibly 
 become confounded with that of the city of St. Thomas, the great fame 
 of which was extending throughout Europe about the time of the 
 compilation of the Olaf 's Saga, 
 
170 THE CHANGE OF FAITH 
 
 for a great heap of silver, bidding Thangbrand come to him 
 if he were ever in need of a protector. Afterwards Olaf was 
 baptized in Scilly : and Thangbrand, whose priesthood sat but 
 lightly on him, bought with the Viking's silver a goodly 
 Irish damsel, whom he took to his home. For a man- 
 slaughter committed on account of this fair 'mey,' Thang- 
 brand was obliged to leave Denmark. He sought and found 
 Olaf Tryggvison, then on the English coast, and, returning 
 with him to Norway, was made priest of a little church on 
 the island of Mostr, on the north coast — ^the first Christian 
 church in Norway,* built by Olaf on the spot where he had 
 ordered mass to be sung before him, on his landing from 
 Ireland to contest the kingdom with Jarl Hakon. 
 
 As priest of Mostr, Thangbrand's piratical instincts were 
 soon brought into full play. The few new converts in the 
 surrounding district of Hordaland brought their offerings to 
 the church but rarely. Thangbrand was attended by a large 
 body of followers, and, to support his 'haU' becomingly, he 
 proceeded to harry the adjoining mainland with as little 
 scruple as the most heathen of Vikings. Olaf, to whom the 
 inhabitants complained, sent for Thangbrand, and, as a 
 punishment, imposed on him the preaching of Christianiiy in 
 Iceland, whence Stefner had just returned. A good ship 
 was provided for the new missionary, who set out with many 
 companions, priests and laymen, among whom was an Ice- 
 lander named Grudleif, 'a great manslayer, and one of the 
 strongest of men, and hardy and forward in everything.'! 
 'Thangbrand was a tall man,' says the Saga, 'and strong, 
 skilful of speech, a good clerk, and a good warrior; able for 
 all manly sports, and firm of mind, albeit a teacher of the 
 faith ; not provoking others, but once angered, and he 
 would yield to no man in deeds or in words.' f In the 
 
 * Olaf Tiyggvison's Saga, ch. 99. t Burnt NjaL, iL p. 64. 
 
 t Olaf s Saga, ch. 188. 
 
IN ICELAND. 171 
 
 summer of 997 this not very promising champion of the faith 
 set out for Iceland. 
 
 That the struggle between heathenism and Christianity 
 was now felt to be vital, and that the heathen party was 
 beginning to lose heart, is perhaps indicated to some extent 
 by a curious story preserved in the Olaf 's Saga. One of the 
 chief personages of the south-west district was Hall of the 
 Side, so named from his ownership of a long strip of hill-side, 
 overlooked by the peaks and craters of the Skaptd-Jokul. 
 The youngest and best-loved of his sons was Thidrandi, whose 
 praises were in every one's mouth, with the exception of 
 Thorhall, a 'seer,' or foresighted man, who, when asked what 
 he saw amiss in the lad, declared that an evil fate hung over 
 him. On a certain night Thidrandi was warned by the seer 
 not to stir out of his father's house, whatever might happen. 
 But when all were in bed, three loud knocks sounded at the 
 door of the hall, and Thidrandi, who alone was awake, think- 
 ing it shame that the hospitality of the Side should receive a 
 slur, went out into the yard. There he saw on one side nine 
 women in black raiment, riding from the north on black 
 horses, and holding drawn swords in their hands. Against 
 them from the south came nine other women, in white 
 raiment, and on white horses. As Thidrandi tried to get 
 back into the house the nine women in black fell on him with 
 their swords, and mortally wounded him. Thorhall, the seer, 
 just then roused from his sleep, went into the court and found 
 Thidrandi, who was able to tell his story, but died at early 
 dawn. Of his enemies there was no trace. When Hall 
 asked the seer what all this meant, he answered, ' I know not, 
 but I can guess that these were no other women than the 
 guardian spirits of thy race, and I suspect that a change of 
 faith is about to happen, and that these your goddesses must 
 have seen what is coming to pass, and that they are angry 
 at it, lest they should not have the respect paid to them to 
 
172 
 
 THE CHANGE OE FAITH 
 
 which they have been wont.'* The same ' foresighted man, 
 on another occasion, whilst lying in bed about daybreak, 
 was observed by Hall to smile strangely. When he asked 
 why, ThorhaU answered that he saw the little, mounds (the 
 houses of the trolls and dwarfs) open over all the country 
 and the creatures within them making up their bundles 
 and preparing to set off.f 
 
 We are now brought again into the company of the 
 Njdla, which records the arrival and the deeds of Thangbrand 
 His ship came to land at Bernfirth, on the eastern coast 
 Two brothers — Thorleif and Kettle — who dwelt there, find- 
 ing probably that Christian priests were on board, forbade 
 the people of the district, in accordance with the law of the 
 Althing, to have any dealings with the new-comers. Bui 
 Hall of the Side, who was then at Thvattwater, not fkr 
 south of B6rnfirth — and who was evidently not unfavourable 
 to the new faith — 
 
 ' rode to the ship with twenty-nine men, and he fares at once 
 
 to find Thangbrand, and spoke to him, and asked him — 
 
 ' " Trade is rather dull, is it not 1 " 
 
 ' He answered that so it was. 
 
 ' " Now will I say my errand," says Hall ; "it is that I wish to ask 
 you all to my house, and run the risk of my being able to get rid of 
 your wares for you." 
 
 ' Thangbrand thanked him, and fared to Thvattwater that har- 
 vest. 
 
 ' It so happened one morning that Thangbrand was out early, and 
 made them pitch a tent on land, and sang mass in it, and took much 
 pains with it, for it was a great high-day. 
 
 'Hall spoke to Thangbrand, and asked, "In memory of whom 
 keepest thou this day t " 
 
 ' " In memory of Michael the Archangel," says Thangbrand. 
 
 ' " What follows that angel?" asked HaU. 
 
 ' "Much good," says Thangbrand ; " he wiU weigh all the good that 
 thou doest ; and he is so merciful, that whenever any one pleases him 
 he makes his good deeds weigh more." 
 
 ' " I would like to have him for my friend," says Hall. 
 
 * Olaf's Saga, ch. 215 ; Dasent, i. xx. 
 t Olaf's Saga, ch. 215. 
 
IN ICELAND. 173 
 
 ' " That thou mayst well have," says Thangbrand ; " only give thy- 
 self over to him, by God's help, this very day." 
 
 ' " I only make this condition," says Hall, " that thou give thy 
 word for him that he will then become my guardian angel." 
 
 ' " That I will promise," says Thangbrand. 
 
 ' Then Hall was baptized, and all his household.' 
 
 The following spring Thangbrand set out to preach Chris- 
 tianity, accompanied by Hall. 
 
 ' When they came west across Lonsheath to Staffell, there they 
 found a man dwelling named ThorkeU. He spoke most against the 
 faith, and challenged Thangbrand to single combat. Then Thang- 
 brand bore a rood-cross before his shield, and the end of their combat 
 was, that Thangbrand won the day, and slew ThorkeU.' 
 
 Many households were baptized; and the heathen party 
 were not a little disturbed at the success of the new 
 missionary. 
 
 ' There was a man named Sorcerer Hedinn, who dwelt in Oarline- 
 dale. There heathen men made a bargain with him that he should 
 put Thangbrand to death with all his company. He fared upon 
 Amstacks Heath, and there made a great sacrifice when Thangbrand 
 was riding from the east. Then the earth burst asunder under his 
 horse, but he sprang off his horse, and saved himself on the brink of 
 the gulf ; but the earth swallowed up the horse and all his harness, 
 and they never saw him more. 
 
 ' Then Thangbrand praised God. 
 
 ' Gudleif now searches for Sorcerer Hedinn, and finds him on the 
 heath, and chases him down into Carlinedale, and gets within spear- 
 shot of him, and shoots a spear at him and through him.' 
 
 Others, who ' spoke against the faith,' were killed by Thang- 
 brand and the fierce ' manslayer ' Gudleif ; and in the south 
 they made one convert of great importance. This was Njal, 
 the hero of the Saga which bears his name ; the gentlest and 
 the wisest man in all the island. Long before, when men had 
 said in Njal's hearing that it was 'a strange and wicked thing 
 to throw off the old faith,' he had answered them, ' It seems 
 to me as though this new faith must be much better, and he 
 will be happy who follows this rather than the other ; and if 
 those men come out hither who preach this faith, then I will 
 
174 THE CHANGE OF FAITH 
 
 back them well.' ' He went often alone away from other men, 
 
 and muttered to himself.' 
 
 Now, Njal ' took the faith, and all his house,' an was 
 
 of great service at the ensuing Althing, when Thangbrand 
 
 ' spoke boldly ' for Christianity, and the heathens would have 
 
 fallen on him had not Njal and the 'Eastfirthers' stood by 
 
 him. At this Althing Hjallti Skeggi's son sang a mocking 
 
 rhyme on the Hill of Laws — 
 
 ' Ever will I gods blaspheme ; 
 Freyja, methinks, a dog doth seem. 
 Freyja a dog ? Ay ! let them, be 
 Both dogs together," Odin and she.' 
 
 An allusion, it has been suggested, to some mythological 
 legend which has not come down to us. For this outrage he 
 was exiled, and 'fared abroad' that summer, accompanied by 
 Gizur the White. 
 
 In the meantime Thangbrand's ship, like Stefner's before 
 him, 'was wrecked away east, at Bulandsness, and the 
 ship's name was Bison.' Thangbrand himself passed through 
 the western and northern quarters, in both of which he 
 baptized many households, using, in the north, the lake of 
 Myvatn as a baptistery. Here, however, he attacked and 
 killed, whilst cutting turfs with his house-carles, Veturlid 
 the Scald, who had made rhymes on him. In the west 
 country — 
 
 '^tfeiln»ra, the mother of Ref the Scald, came against him ; she 
 preached we heathen faith to Thangbrand, and made him a long 
 speech. Thangbrand held his peace while she spoke, but made a long 
 speech after her, and turned all that she had said the wrong way 
 against her. 
 
 '"Hast thou heard," she said, "how Thor challenged Christ to 
 single combat; and how he did not dare to fight with Thor ? " 
 
 ' "I have heard tell," says Thangbrand, "that Thor was nought 
 but dust and ashes, if God had not willed that he should live. " ' 
 
 It was Thor, according to Steinvora, who shattered the 
 ship. From her they ' fared west ' to Bardastrand. 
 
IN ICELAND. 175 
 
 ' Gest Oddleff's son dwelt at Hagi on Bardastrand. He was one of 
 tlie wisest of men, so that he foresaw the fates and fortunes of men. 
 He made a feast for Thangbrand and his men. They fared to Hagi 
 with sixty men. Then it was said there were two hundred heathen 
 men to meet them, and that a Baresark was looked for to come hither, 
 whose name was Otrygg, and all were afraid of him. Of him such 
 great things as these were said, that he feared neither fire nor sword, 
 and the heathen men were sore afraid at his coming. Then Thang- 
 brand asked if men were willing to take the faith ; but all the heathen 
 men spoke against it. 
 
 '"Well," says Thangbrand, "I will give you the means whereby 
 ye shall prove whether my faith is better. We will hallow two fires. 
 The heathen men shall hallow one, and I the other ; but a third shall 
 be unhallowed ; and if the Baresark is afraid of the one that I 
 hallow, but treads both the others, then he shall take the faith." 
 
 '"That is weU spoken," says Gest, "and I will agree to this for 
 myself and my household." 
 
 ' And when Gest had so spoken, then many more agreed to it. 
 ' Then it was said that the Baresark was coming up to the home- 
 stead ; and then the fires were made, and burnt strong. Then men 
 took their arms, and sprang up on the benches, and so waited. 
 
 'The Baresark rushed in with his weapons. He comes into the 
 room, and treads at once the fire which the heathen men had hallowed, 
 and so comes to the fire that Thangbrand had hallowed, and dares not 
 to tread it, but said that he was on fire aU over. He hews with his 
 sword at the bench, but strikes a cross-beam as he brandishes the 
 weapon aloft. Thangbrand smote the arm of the Baresark with his 
 crucifix, and so mighty a token followed that the sword fell from the 
 Baresark's hand. 
 
 ' Then Thangbrand thrust a sword into his breast, and Gudleif 
 smote him on the arm, and hewed it off. Then many went up and 
 slew the Baresark. 
 
 ' After that Thangbrand asked if they would take the faith now ? 
 ' Gest said he had only spoken what he meant to keep to. 
 ' Then Thangbrand baptized Gest, and aU his house, and many 
 others. Then Thangbrand took counsel with Gest whether he should 
 go any farther west among the firths ; but Gest set his face against 
 that, and said they were a hard race of men there, and iU to deal 
 with ; " but if it be foredoomed that this faith shall make its way, 
 then it will be taken as law at the Althing, and then all the chiefs out 
 of the districts will be there." 
 
 ' " I did all that I could at the Thing," says Thangbrand, " and it 
 was very up-hill work." 
 
 ' " StiQ thou hast done most of the work," says Gest, " though 
 it may be fated that others shall make Christianity law ; but it is 
 here, as the saying runs, ' No tree falls at the first stroke.' " 
 
176 
 
 THE CHANGE OP FAITH 
 
 ' After that Gest gave Thangbrand good gifts, and he fared back 
 
 south He turned in as a guest at BergtKorsknoll, and 
 
 Njal gave him good gifts. Thence he rode east to Altafirth, to meet 
 Hall of the Side. He caused his ship to be mended, and heathen 
 men called it " Iron-basket." On board that ship Thangbrand fared 
 abroad, and Gudleif with him. ' 
 
 He was in effect compelled to leave Iceland, since lie had 
 been exiled at the Althing on account of his many man- 
 slaughters. 
 
 Although Thangbrand's Christianity was evidently of the 
 rudest, %nd his mode of proceeding by no means conciliatory, 
 he seems in effect to have advanced the cause of the new 
 faith more than a step. His name still figures in Icelandic 
 folk-lore. High up on the skirts of the SnaefeUs Jokul is a 
 pinnacle of rock shaped like a human figure looking intently 
 to the westward. It was once a Troll-girl, who, when cross- 
 ing the rocks by night to meet her lover in Snaefell, encoun- 
 tered the Christian Thangbrand. "Wherever she turned he 
 stood before her with the cross in his hand. A Troll on whom 
 the sunbeams fall at once stiffens into stone: and, thinking 
 only of her human lover, she struggled to advance, always 
 kept back' by the cross, until the morning light fixed her on 
 the summit of the pass for ever.* 
 
 Thangbrand returned at once to Norway; Hjallti and Grizur 
 the White also reached Mdaros, the harbour of Tronjhem, 
 in the autumn of 999. There they fell in with many 
 Icelanders, among whom was Kiartan, son of Olaf the 
 Peacock ; and there they found Olaf Tryggvison himself, 
 who had just returned south from the 'christening' of 
 Halogaland. Thangbrand, the missionary, was also at 
 Nidaros, and had reported his ill success to the king, adding, 
 that it seemed impossible to make Christianity the law of 
 Iceland. Olaf, seized with a true Viking's frenzy, ordered 
 all the Icelanders in the harbour to be imprisoned, and 
 
 * Metcalfe, Oomnian in Iceland, p. 298. 
 
IK ICELAND. 177 
 
 threatened them with loss of limbs and with death. But 
 Gizur and Hjallti, accompanied by other Icelanders who had 
 embraced Christianity, presented themselves before the king, 
 and reminded him of his promise, made long before, that any 
 man, whatever his crime might be, should receive 'peace' 
 and go free, if he would only consent to become a Christian. 
 Thangbrand, they said, had lived as turbulently in Iceland as 
 he had done in Norway. He had killed men instead of per- 
 suading them. With time and good management the Kin^ 
 might yet see his desire fulfilled. Olaf finally consented 
 to admit the Icelanders to his 'peace,' provided Grizur and 
 Hjallti would undertake a third mission to the island, and 
 would employ all their influence to render it successful. 
 Four of the noblest Icelanders, one of whom was Kiartan, 
 were to remain with Olaf as hostages. Gizur consented; and 
 after remaining at Tronjhem in great honour as the King's 
 guests all that winter, during which many of the Icelanders 
 in Norway were baptized, he and Hjallti set out for Iceland 
 in the spring of the year 1000. A priest named Thormod, 
 and many other ecclesiastics, went with them; and the King 
 gave them timber for building a church on the spot where 
 they should first land. After a ten-weeks' voyage they 
 arrived at the Westmann Islands — those tall, dark, basaltic 
 masses which lie off the southern coast of Iceland, and are 
 within sight of the principal places celebrated in the Njdla. 
 On the northern point of Horgaeyre, where the heathen stone 
 of sacrifice had hitherto stood, they laid the foundations of 
 King Olaf's church, and after a stay of two days on the 
 Westmanndeyar, crossed to the mainland. 
 
 Before reaching the Westmann Islands, however, as their 
 ship rounded the cliffs of Dyrholm, it had been seen by Flosi 
 'the burner'— so called from the share which he afterwards 
 had in the burning of Njal, who was riding across Arnstack's 
 Heath on his way to the Althing. From men whom he sent 
 
 n 
 
178 THE CHANGE OF FAITH 
 
 oif to the ship, Flosi learnt the cause of its arrival, as well as 
 all that had passed in Norway. One of the hostages retained 
 by Olaf was his own brother Kolbein ; and Flosi, who had 
 received the 'primsignaz' from Thangbrand, but had not yet 
 declared himself a Christian, rode on to the Thing and spread 
 the news. 
 
 Hjallti and Gizur, with a company of thirty men, crossed 
 from the islands on the very day that men throughout all that 
 part of the country were journeying to the Althing. Thither they 
 determined to proceed at once; but that strip of the southern 
 coast was under the rule of Eunolf the priest, who had been 
 Hjallti' s accuser for his attack on Odin and Freya, and no 
 one would supply the new-comers with horses, or would even 
 set them across the "Bang river. They went on foot, there- 
 fore, to the house of the next proprietor, who mounted them. 
 At Langardal, the Geyser valley which lies iu the direct road, 
 they persuaded Hjallti, who, having been legally exiled, had 
 something to fear from Runolf and his personal enemies, to 
 remain, with a following of twelve men, until Gizur should 
 get the 'peace' of the Thing for him. The rest rode on to 
 the hot spring called the 'Boiling Kettle,' close above the 
 Baven-rift, the great volcanic 'cleft' which bounds the Thing- 
 field on the south. Thence they sent word to the Christians, 
 and to those of their friends who were already at the Thing, 
 tp come to meet them; for the heathen party had been greatly 
 enraged at Flosi's news, and threatened to prevent by force 
 the appearance of Grizur at the Law Mount. Hjallti himself 
 came up at the same moment, declaring that he would run all 
 risks ; and the whole company, now of considerable strength, 
 with spears in warlike array, and with much glancing of gold 
 and red kirtles, descended together the steep side of the Raven- 
 rift. 
 
 The scene which opened to them at the top of the rift has 
 been little changed, and is familiar to us from the descriptions 
 
IN ICELAND. 179 
 
 of recent tourists.* Immediately below spread the green 
 plain of the Thingfield, dotted with birch coppice, and extend- 
 ing southward to the broad lake of Thingvalla. At the back 
 of the plain a mass of rugged lava stretches upward to the 
 snowy cone of the Skjaldbreid mountain, from which all the 
 lava of the district has flowed, and to which is owing the 
 singular depression of the Thingfield itself. Spiral columns 
 of steam ascend from the cones and craters- which fringe the 
 lake ; and at a distance of about three miles across the plain 
 HjaUti could see the Law Mount, the scene of his coming 
 struggle, the booths of the Thingmen stretching along the 
 banks of the Oxara river, and the black walls of the 
 Almannagya— the ' All-men's rift ' — closing in.the Thingfield 
 on the north. Between the birch wood and along the shore 
 of the lake the new-comers rode until they reached the booth 
 of Asgrim, sister's son of Gizur. The heathen party, fully 
 armed, gathered in knots, and looked threateningly ; but the 
 night passed over without a skirmish. 
 
 On the following morning the priest Thormod sang mass in 
 the Westfirding's booth, above the Oxara river ; and thence 
 the Christians proceeded, in solemn procession, to the Hill 
 of Laws. Seven ecclesiastics, duly vested, led the way, two 
 of whom carried a pair of great crosses, the height of one 
 measuring that of King Olaf Tryggvison — of the other, that of 
 HjaUti himself. Clouds of incense-smoke, the scent of which 
 spread far in the clear, sharp air, rose from their swinging 
 thuribles.t The whole Thing was collected about the Law 
 
 * By far the best and most minute ' topography of the Thingfield ' 
 is given, with excellent plans, by Mr. Dasent, in the Introduction to 
 Burnt Njal (vol. i.). Both Captain Forbes {Iceland, its Volcanoes, Geysers, 
 wnd Glaciers) and Mr. Metcalfe (Omnian in Iceland) supply some in- 
 teresting details ; but better than either of their descriptions is that of 
 Lord Dufferin, in his Letters from High Latitudes. 
 
 f It is especially said that the perfume spread against the wind as 
 well as with it {Kristni-Saga, ch. xi.)- 
 
180 THE CHANGE OF FAITH 
 
 Mount ; and no attempt was made to prevent the entrance of 
 Hjallti and his companions by the narrow tongue of land 
 which alone gives access to the Logberg, separated from the 
 plain on all sides by deep volcanic fissures. On the Mount 
 Hjallti and Gizur both spoke ' well and boldly ' — so well and 
 so boldly, that, according to the Saga, their enemies had not 
 a word of reply, and were reduced to loud shouting and 
 tumult, both Christians and heathens declaring that they 
 would no longer submit to the same general laws. In the 
 midst of the confusion 'came a man running in' with the 
 news that ' earth-fire ' — a, lava-stream — had just broken out in 
 the district of Olfus, and was threatening to destroy the farm 
 of Thorodd the priest. ' What marvel,' shouted the heathens, 
 ' if the gods are angry when such words as we have heard are 
 spoken on the Law Mount? ' But Snorri, the priest — ' the 
 wisest and shrewdest of all those men in Iceland who had not 
 the gift of foresight,' says the Kjal's Saga — answered, 'With 
 whom were the gods angry when this very rock on which we 
 are standing was in flames ? ' — a question to which the others 
 seem to have found no reply. 
 
 It is clear, from the whole story of Hjallti's reception, that 
 Christianity had already well leavened the island. Probably 
 more than half the chief proprietors had either been baptized 
 or had received the primsignaz. After the stormy scene at the 
 Mount, therefore, when all had returned to the booths, the 
 Christians entreated Hall of the Side, one of the most power- 
 ful of their number, to demand for them a body of laws ' such 
 as Christian men might foUow.' The system of ancient law, 
 upon which all Icelandic life and society depended, would no 
 longer hold good for both parties, especially since the direct 
 prohibition of Christianity at the Althing. Hall accordingly, 
 with a ' half-hundred of silver ' in his hand, sought Thorgeir, 
 the priest of Lightwater, at this time the ' Speaker of the 
 Law,' and still unbaptized, though evidently not indisposed 
 
IN ICELAND. 181 
 
 towards the new faith ; and persuaded him for that sum 
 (which was apparently his lawful fee) to devise . a system of 
 laws which should bear equally on Christians and heathens.* 
 Thorgeir retired to his booth, where he lay stretched on his 
 bed, with his head covered, for two days and a night — a 
 method of self-concentration which, up to a late period, 
 according to Martin, was usual in Skye and the Western 
 Islands; where a seer, who wished to exercise his powers, 
 would shut himself into his hut, and there, for two or three 
 days, would lie on the ground in total darkness, wrapped in 
 his plaid, with a great stone resting on his breast. 
 
 In the nleantime the heathens, reduced almost to despair, 
 determined to make a great sacrifice to the gods, and to offer 
 two human victims from each of the four quarters of Iceland, 
 in the hope that Odin and Thor would then interfere, and 
 prevent Christianity from ' going over all the land.' Gizur 
 and Hjallti immediately assembled the Christians,, and de- 
 clared that they too would make as solemn a sacrifice,, and 
 one with an equal number of victims. The heathens, they 
 said, sacrificed the worst of men, and flung them from rocks 
 and precipices. They would choose the very best and noblest, 
 who should in truth be offerings to Christ — ' gifts of victory ' 
 — and bind themselves, not indeed to die, but to lead better 
 and worthier lives. Gizur and Hjallti offered themselves for 
 their own quarter ; Hall of the Side and Thorleif of Krossavik 
 for the eastern ; and of the others, one was Orm, Kodran's 
 son, brother of Thorwald the ' far-farer,' who, when the rest 
 
 * The speaker of the Law was in effect the President of the Althing. 
 ' To him all who were in need of a legal opinion, or of information as 
 to what was and was not law, had a right to turn during the meeting 
 of the Althing.' He was expressly excluded from aU share in the 
 executive, but ' had the whole control of the law of the land dxiring 
 the annual fortnight to which the legal existence of the common- 
 wealth was limited.' — Basent, I. Ivii., Iviii. Hence his great infliience 
 on this occasion. 
 
182 THE CHANGE OF FAITH 
 
 of Ms father's household were baptized by Bishop Frederick^ 
 had refused to accept the new faith, and had withdrawn from 
 the district : he was now baptized at his own request, and 
 was numbered among the Christian ' victims.' 
 
 The offerings to Thor and Odin, however, were never made. 
 Thorgeir, the Speaker of the Law, rose at last from his bed, 
 and summoned all who were present at the Thing to assemble 
 about the Law Mount. There he spoke to them at length, 
 and told them what great troubles hung over the land if men 
 would not bind themselves to obey the same laws. There 
 would be ceaseless feuds and manslaughters, and the island 
 would at last become desolate. The only way to avoid these 
 troubles was to frame such new rules as should bear equally 
 on all, and as both parties would agree to observe. 'The 
 Divine Grace,' says the monk of the Olaf's Saga, ' gave so 
 mighty an effect to the words of Thorgeir,' that both heathens 
 and Christians consented to receive as law whatever he should 
 decree : and Thorgeir accordingly pronounced from the 
 summit of the Logberg the ordinanctes which — so far as out- 
 ward forms were concerned — made Iceland a Christian 
 country. All, without exception, throughout the island, were 
 to be baptized, and to 'beheve in one God.' Heathen temples 
 were everywhere to be destroyed. Whoever was found 
 publicly sacrificing to the ancient deities was to be exiled ; 
 but it was allowable for any one to do so in private. The 
 old laws concerning the exposition of infants and the eating 
 of horseflesh were to remain in force,* together with such 
 
 * Thorgeir's ordinances axe thus given in both the Krishw, and the 
 Olaf Sagas, which are followed by Finn Jonsson in his Historia Ecchs. 
 IslandicB. The Njal's Saga asserts that the exposition of children and 
 the eating of horseflesh were also forbidden, ' unless done by stealth, 
 when they should be blameless ' (ch. ci.). The exposition of children 
 —which arose from the legal right of the father, and from the difficulty 
 of supporting a numerous family— prevailed in full force down to the 
 change of faith. The horseflesh forbidden to be eaten was that of the 
 sacred horses sacrificed before the heathen altars. 
 
IN ICELAND. 183 
 
 other customs as were not openly opposed to Christianity. 
 ' Thorgeir,' says the Njal's Saga, ' then uttered the law as to 
 keeping the Lord's-day and fast-days, Yule-tide and Easter, 
 and aU the greatest high-days and holidays.' 
 
 Such was the new faith to which the Icelanders bound 
 themselves at the persuasion of Thorgeir, the Speaker of the 
 Law. It was confessedly a compromise : Thorgeir, it must 
 be remembered, was himself a heathen ; and the greater part 
 of those who now received baptism regarded it, in all proba- 
 bility, much as the ' primsignaz ' had hitherto been looked 
 upon, only as a ceremony which prevented the breaking up 
 of the commonweath. But heathenism received a fatal blow ; 
 although it was, no doubt, long before its traces ceased to be 
 distinctly recognizable — 
 
 ' Ere, from Bethabara northward, heavenly truth, 
 With even steps winning her diflScult way. 
 Transferred their rude faith perfected and pure.' * 
 
 ' Through the grace and mercy of the Lord,' says the Olaf s 
 Saga, those heathen practices which were now permitted — 
 the secret worship of the old gods, the exposition of infants, 
 and the use of horseflesh — disappeared within a few winters. 
 But it was not so easy to displace the inner spirit of the old 
 creed of the Northmen. Most of the heathens present at the 
 Althing were baptized in the lake of Thingvalla : but the 
 plunge into cold water was in general so greatly dreaded, that 
 permission was given to use the hot springs of Reykiadal and 
 Langardal as baptismal ' fonts.' It was on the 24th of June, 
 the festival of St. John the Baptist — when, according to the 
 belief of the heathen North, the hosts of the unseen world 
 were especially powerful — in the year 1000, that Christianity 
 was ' brought into the law ' of Iceland ; and within a very 
 short time afterwards nearly all the inhabitants of the island 
 had been baptized. King Olaf Tryggvison received the news 
 
 * Coleridge. 
 
184 
 
 THE CHANGE OF FAITH 
 
 of the conversion of Iceland just as he was leaving Nidaros 
 in his famous ship the ' Long Worm,' on the expedition which 
 ended in the great hattle of Svoldr, during which, on the 
 9th of September in the same year, Olaf, like the Arthur of 
 romance, disappeared mysteriously from the sight of men. 
 During the five years for which he had heen King of Norway, 
 he had succeeded in introducing Christianity — rudely, but 
 efficiently as a beginning — throughout his own country, in 
 the Orkneys, in the Feroe Islands, in Iceland, and among the 
 Scandinavian colonists in Greenland. Before leaving Nidaros 
 he set free the hostages whom he had detained on Hjallti's 
 departure. Kiartan, the chief of them, is recorded as having 
 been the first Icelander who kept the Lenten fast by abstain- 
 ing altogether from flesh meat. 
 
 For the character of the Christianity now adopted in 
 Iceland — which, with the ruder and fiercer minds, was little 
 more than a thin veil thrown over their original heathenism 
 — ^we have no better witness than the Njal's Saga. The first 
 part of the story ends, as we have seen, with the death of 
 Gunnar. The change of faith is then briefly recorded ; and 
 the Saga proceeds to detail the events which brought about 
 the burning of Njal — the burning itself, and the ends of the 
 several burners. Hence the sharply drawn characters in this 
 second part appear under the influence of the new faith, the 
 varying eflect of which on different natures is distinctly 
 marked. The fierce spirit of revenge, one of the strongest 
 instincts with the heathen Northmen, was but little checked. 
 Here, for example, is the story of Amund the blind, which 
 probably received some monastic touches before taking the 
 form in which it is told in the Njala, but which is sufficiently 
 suggestive. It occurred nine years after Christianity was 
 'brought into the law.' Lyting of Samstede had killed 
 Hanskuld, Njal's son, father of Amund, who came soon after- 
 wards to the local ' Thing ' of his district. 
 
IN ICELAND. 185 
 
 ' He made men lead him about among the booths, and so he came to 
 the booth inside which was Lyting of Samstede. He made them lead 
 him into the booth tUl he came before Lyting. 
 
 ' " Is Lyting of Samstede here 1 " he asked. 
 
 ' " What dost thou want 1 " says Lyting. 
 
 ' " I want to know," says Amund, " what atonement thou wilt pay 
 me for my father. I am base-bom, and I have.touched no fine." 
 
 ' " I have atoned for the slaying of thy father," says Lyting, " with 
 a full price, and thy father's father and thy father's brothers took the 
 money. . . ." 
 
 ' " I ask not," says Amimd, " as to thy having paid an atonement 
 to them. I know that ye two are now friends ; but I ask this. What 
 atonement thou wUt pay to me ? " 
 
 ' " None at all," says Lyting. 
 
 ' " I cannot see,'' says Amund, " how thou canst have right before 
 God, when thou hast stricken me so near the heart ; but all I can say 
 is, that if I were blessed with the sight of both my eyes, I would have 
 either a money fine for my father, or revenge man for man ; and so 
 may God judge between us." 
 
 ' After that he went out ; but when he came to the door of the booth 
 he turned short round towards the inside. Then his eyes were opened, 
 and he said, — 
 
 ' " Praised be the Lord ! Now I see what his will is ! " 
 
 ' With that he ran straight into the booth until he comes before 
 Lyting, and smites him with an aze on the head, so that it sank in up 
 to the hammer, and gives the axe a pull towards him. 
 
 ' Lyting fell forward, and was dead at once. Amund goes out to 
 the door of the booth ; and when he got to the very same spot on which 
 he had stood when his eyes were opened, lo ! they were shut again, and 
 he was blind all his life after. 
 
 ' Then he made them lead him to Njal and his sons, and he told 
 them of Lyting's slaying. 
 
 ' " Thou mayst not be blamed for this," says Njal, "for such things 
 are settled by a higher power ; but it is worth while to take warning 
 from such events, lest we cut any short who have such near claims as 
 Amund had." ' 
 
 That Christianity had by this time well estabhshed itself, is 
 evident from the words of Mord, the ' lago ' of the Njal's 
 Saga, to his father, Valgard ' the gmleful,' who returned to 
 Iceland, still a heathen, in 1009 — the year of Lyting's 
 death : — 
 
 ' "I would, father," said Mord, "that thou wouldst take on thee 
 the new faith. Thou art an old man." 
 
186 
 
 THE CHANGE OP PAITH 
 
 ' "I will not do that," says Yalgard; "I would rather that thou 
 shouldst cast oflf the faith, and see what follows then." 
 
 ' Mord said he would not do that. Yalgard broke crosses before 
 Mord's face, and all holy tokens. A little after, Yalgard took a 
 sickness, and breathed his last, and was laid in a cairn by Hof.' 
 
 It was through Mord's ctmning slander that Skarphedinn 
 and the other sons of Njal were led on to the murder of 
 Hanskuld, Njal's foster-son — the ' sweetest light of his eyes ' 
 — and one to whom, as to Njal himself, Christianity seems to 
 have come as something more than a form. Hanskuld, the 
 priest of Whiteness (the title and the influence still remained, 
 although the temples had been destroyed), was attacked in 
 the early morning, as with his corn-sieve in one hand, and his 
 sword in the other, he was ' sowing the corn as he went ' : — 
 
 ' . . . Skarphedinn and his band had agreed that they would 
 all give him a wound. Skarphedinn sprang up from behind the fence ; 
 but when Hanskuld saw him, he wanted to turn away. Then Skarphe- 
 dinn ran up to him, and said, — 
 
 ' " Don't try to turn on thy heel, Whiteness Priest," and hews at 
 him ; and the blow came on his head, and he fell on his knees. 
 Hanskuld said these words when he fell, — 
 
 ' " God help me, and forgive you ! "' 
 
 This murder sealed the fate of Njal and of all his family. 
 Hanskuld had been killed wearing a cloak which had been 
 given him by Mosi, the uncle of Hansknld's wife Hildegunna. 
 When Flosi came to her house after the murder, Hildegunna 
 took this cloak out of her chest, where she had kept it, and 
 
 ' . . . threw the cloak over Flosi, and the gore rattled down 
 all over him. 
 
 ' Then she spoke and said, — 
 
 ' " This cloak, Flosi, thou gavest to Hanskuld, and now I will give 
 it back to thee : he was slain in it, and I call God and all good men 
 to witness that I adjure thee, by aU the might of thy Christ, and by 
 thy manhood and bravery, to take vengeance for all those wounds 
 which he had on his dead body, or else to be called every man's 
 dastard."' 
 
 Against his will, Flosi was thus drawn into the plot against 
 Njal ; the award for the murder was set aside at the Thing ; 
 
IN ICELAND. 187 
 
 and at a great meeting of friends and followers, summoned by 
 Flosi in the 'Almannagia' — the Great Rift — it was deter- 
 mined to make an attack on the house of Bergthorsknoll, 
 and to kill all who were in it. The story of the burning 
 develops Njal's character so well, and the accidental illustra- 
 tions of the new faith are so curious, that it must not be 
 passed by hastily. 
 
 Flosi, when the appointed time had come (on a Sunday in 
 August 1011), assembled at Swinefell ' all his men who had 
 promised him help and company,' and 
 
 ' made them say prayers betimes on the Lord's day, and afterwards 
 they sat down to meat. He spoke to his household, and told them 
 what work each was do while he was away. After that he went to 
 his horses. . . . They rode west to Woodcombe, and came to 
 Kirkby. Flosi then bade all men to come into the church and pray 
 to God, and men did so.' 
 
 Flosi's Christianity was at least not behind that of certain 
 Northern pirates in the sixteenth century, who captured a 
 priest in order that they might have service duly said on 
 board their vessel every Sunday. Throughout, however, he 
 seems to have been acting half-unwiUingly. The whole band 
 of ' burners,' one hundred and twenty in number, assembled 
 at the ' ridge of the Three-corner,' and thence came down 
 upon Bergthorsknoll, where grave portents had appeared, omi- 
 nous of coming trouble, and where Njal, the ' foresighted man,' 
 had long before predicted the manner of his death. On the 
 approach of the band, Njal, his nine sons, Kari his son-in-law, 
 and all the serving-men, who at first stood ' in array to meet 
 them in the yard,' retired into the house, and barricaded it. 
 Many of Flosi's men were killed by spears flung from the 
 window-slits ; and at last he said, — 
 
 '"We have already gotten great manscathe. ... It is now 
 clear that we shall never master them with weapons. . . . There 
 are but two choices left, and neither of them good. One is to turn 
 away, and that is our death ; the other, to set fire to the house, and 
 bum them inside it ; and that is a deed which we shall have to answer 
 
188 THE CHANGE OF FAITH 
 
 for heavily before God, since we are Christian men ourselves ; but 
 
 stiU we must take to that counseL" 
 
 ' Now they took fire and made a great pile before the doors. Then 
 
 Skarphedinn said, — 
 
 ' " What, lads ! are ye lighting a fire, or are ye taking to cooking ? " 
 ' "So shall it be," answered Grani Gunnar's son, " and thou shalt 
 
 not need to be better done." 
 
 * * V * * 
 
 ' Then the women threw whey on the fire, and quenched it as fast 
 as they lit it . . . and then . . . they took a vetch-stack that 
 stood above the house, and set fire to it, and they who were inside were 
 not aware of it till the whole hall was ablaze over their heads. 
 
 ' Then Flosi and his men made a great pile before each of the 
 doors, and then the women-folk who were inside began to weep and 
 to wail. 
 
 ' Njal spoke to them, and said, " Keep up your hearts, nor utter 
 shrieks, for this is but a passing storm, and it will be long before ye 
 have another such ; and put your faith in God, and believe that he is 
 so merciful that he will not let us burn both in this world and the 
 next." 
 
 ' Such words of comfort had he for them all, and others still more 
 strong. 
 
 ' Now the whole house began to blaze. Then Njal went to the 
 door, and said, — 
 
 '"Is Flosi so near that he can hear my voice ? " 
 
 ' Flosi said that he could hear it. 
 
 ' " Wilt thou," said Njal, " take an atonement from my sons, or 
 allow any men to go out ? " 
 
 ' " I will not," answers Flosi, " take any atonement from thy sons, 
 and now our dealings shall come to an end once for all, and I will not 
 stir from this spot tiU they are all dead ; but I will allow the women 
 and children and house-carles to go out." ' 
 
 The women accordingly — all except Bergiihora, the aged 
 wife of Njal — went out ; and with them went Helgi, Njal's 
 son, wrapped in a woman's cloak. He was recognised, how- 
 ever, and killed by Flosi. 
 
 ' Then Flosi went to the door, and called out to Njal, and said he . 
 would speak with him and Bergthora. 
 
 ' Now Njal does so, and Flosi said, — 
 
 ' " I will offer thee, Master Njal, leave to go out, for it is unworthy 
 that thou shouldst burn indoors." 
 
 ' " I wUl not go out," said Njal, " for I am an old man, and little 
 fitted to avenge my sons ; but I wiU not live in shame." ' 
 
IN ICELAND. 189 
 
 The great duty of revenge was still a principle of life, even 
 with so gentle-minded and thoughtful a convert as Njal. 
 
 'Then Flosi sai(f to Bergthora,- - 
 
 '"Come thou out, housewife, for I will for no sake burn thee 
 indoors." 
 
 ' " I was given away to Njal young,'' said Bergthora, " and I have 
 promised him this, that we would both share the same fate." 
 
 ' After that they both went back into the house. 
 
 '" What counsel shall we now take 1" said Bergthora. 
 
 ' " We will go to our bed," says Njal, " and lay us down. I have 
 long been eager for rest." 
 
 ' Then she said to the boy Thord, Kari's son, — 
 
 ' " Thee will I take out, and thou shalt not bum in here." 
 
 ' " Thou hast promised me this, grandmother," says the boy, " that 
 we should never part so long as I wished to be with thee ; but methinks 
 it is much better to die with thee and Njal than to live after you." 
 
 ' Then she bore the boy to her bed, and Njal spoke to his steward 
 and said, — 
 
 ' " Now shalt thou see where we lay us down, and how I lay us out ; 
 for I mean not to stir an inch hence, whether reek or burning smart 
 me, and so thou wilt be able to guess where to look for our bones." 
 
 ' He said he wotdd do so. 
 
 'There had been an ox 'Blaughtered, and the hide lay there. Njal 
 told the steward to spread the hide over them, and he did so. 
 
 ' So there they lay down both of them in their bed, and put the boy 
 between them. Then they signed themselves and the boy with the 
 cross, and gave over their souls into God's hand, and that was the last 
 word that men heard them utter. 
 
 ' Then the steward took the hide, and spread it over them, and went 
 out afterwards.' 
 
 Meanwhile the house burnt, and all perished who were still 
 within it, with the exception of Kari, who, with his clothes 
 and his hair all ablaze, threw himself down from the roof, 
 and ' so crept along with the smoke.' He ran till he came 
 to a stream, in which he flung himself, and so 'quenched 
 the fire on him.' Mr. Metcalfe tells us that the place, 
 now a small pit in the swamp below Bergthorsknoll, is still 
 pointed out as 'Karitiorn,' the tarn of Kari. Flosi and 
 his band stayed by the fire untU it was broad daylight. 
 Then they rode off together. ' Flosi never spoke about the 
 
190 
 
 THE CHANGE OF FAITH 
 
 deed, but no fear was found in him, and lie was at home the 
 whole mnter till Yule was over.' 
 
 Meanwhile Kari, who had escaped, sought Hjallti, Skeggi's 
 son — ^the same whom we already know as the successful 
 champion of the new faith at the Althing. 
 
 'Kari bade Hjallti to go and search for Njal's bones, "for all will 
 believe in what thou sayest and thinkest about them." 
 
 'Hjallti said he would be most willing to bear Njal's bones to 
 church ; so they rode thence, fifteen men. ... At last . . . 
 they had one hundred men, reckoning Njal's neighbours. 
 
 ' Then they came to Bergthorsknoll at midday. HjaUti asked Kari 
 under what part of the house Njal might be lying, but Kari showed 
 them to the spot, and there there was a great heap of ashes to dig away. 
 There they found the hide underneath, and it was as though it were 
 shrivelled with the fire. They raised up the hide, and, lo ! they 
 were unburnt under it. All praised God for that, and thought it 
 was a great token. 
 
 ' Njal was borne out, and so was Bergthora ; and then all men went 
 to see their bodies. 
 
 ' Then Hjallti said, " What like look to you these bodies ?" 
 
 ' They answered, " We will wait for thy utterance." 
 
 ' Then Hjallti said, " I shall speak what I say with all freedom of 
 speech. The body of Bergthora looks as it was likely she would look, 
 and still fair : but Njal's body and visage seem to me so bright that 
 I have never seen any dead man's body so bright as this." 
 
 ' They all said they thought so too.' 
 
 In all, the bones of nine persons were discovered ; all of 
 which were solemnly conveyed to the churchyard and interred. 
 During the heathen period interments had been made in 
 cairns, not far from the dwelling. But immediately 
 after the reception of Christianity, churches, with the con- 
 secrated enclosure about them, were built in different parts of 
 the island, and in spite of the difficulty of conveying the dead 
 across flooded rivers and over wild mountain ridges, they 
 were now carefiilly laid to rest under the shadow of the holy 
 walls. These, as they still are for the most part throughout 
 Iceland, were of wood, either from the drift-logs brought to 
 the coast by the GuK-stream, or of pine and oak sent for 
 this express purpose from Norway and Great Britain. They 
 
IN ICELAND. 191 
 
 were roofed with turf. The churches were nowhere large — 
 although the great landowners, no doubt, did their best for 
 them, since they believed that as many souls would be saved 
 by their means as the church they built could contain. In 
 form they were probably long parallelograms, resembling 
 the stone church of which the ruins have been found on the 
 coast of Greenland. For a certain time after consecration 
 these first churches were said to be ' in albis,' like men after 
 baptism. An early Icelandic name for the altar, ' Paxspialld' 
 — the 'table of peace' — is not apparently found elsewhere. 
 It is eminently suggestive of what appeared to the first con- 
 verts one of the greatest distinctions between the old faith 
 and the new — the duty of abandoning revenge. Even Njal, 
 as we have just seen, chose to die rather than to live without 
 the power of avenging the loss of his sons. A truer Christian 
 spirit appears in Hall of the Side, Thangbrand's earliest con- 
 vert, who, when his son Ljot had been killed in a fight at the 
 Althing, would demand no ' blood-wite ' for him. ' I will 
 put no price on my son,' he said, ' and yet will come forward 
 and grant both pledges and peace to those who are my 
 adversaries.' A great ' hum in his favour followed,' we are 
 told, ' and all praised his gentleness and good will,' which few 
 however were as yet found ready to imitate. But the ' peace 
 of the Church ' made a great step under Gizur, the second 
 bishop of Skalholt, who persuaded the Icelanders to appear 
 without their weapons at the Althing. 
 
 All those who had been present at the burning of Njal 
 were exiled at the next Althing. Flosi himself was banished 
 for three years; and undertook a pilgrimage to Eome. Many 
 of his followers sailed from Iceland with him. Their ship 
 was wrecked on the Orkneys, where Flosi was made Earl 
 Sigurd's henchman, 'and soon won his way to great love 
 with the Earl.' At Yuletide, Sigtrygg ' of the silken beard,' 
 King of the Northmen settled in Ireland, came to seek Earl 
 
192 
 
 THE CHANGE OF FAITH 
 
 Sigurd's help in a struggle with the famous Over-king of 
 Ireland, Brian Boroimhe — 'Brian of the Tribute.' Sigurd 
 consented to assist him, and Flosi offered to join the expedi- 
 tion, but the Earl would not permit him to go, ' since he had 
 his pilgrimage to fulfil.' Flosi then offered fifteen men of his 
 band, whom the Earl accepted. In this manner the first race 
 of Icelandic converts was represented in ' Brian's Battle,' 
 where, in Mr. Dasent's words, ' the old and new faith met in 
 the lists, face to face, for their last struggle.' 
 
 'King Sigtrygg's stronghold was the fort at Dublin, near the bridge, 
 and thither by Pabn Sunday the whole heathen host had mef ; but 
 Brian, warned in time by Ospak, was not only ready to meet them, 
 should they fall upon him, but ready to march against and fall upon 
 them. He, too, on Pahn Sunday had gathered the Christian host in 
 his leaguer at Clontarf, and so the two armies lay watching one another 
 through Passion week. Brodir,' (a famous Viking in the following of 
 Sigurd of Orkney, ' who had been a Christian man and a mass-deacon 
 by consecration, but had thrown off his faith, and become God's 
 dastard, and now worshipped heathen fiends,') 'skilled in sorcery, 
 betook himself to his black arts, and from the first got little comfort 
 either for himself or his brothers in arms. If the battle were fought 
 before Good Friday, the heathen host would be utterly routed, and lose 
 its chiefs ; but if the struggle were delayed till Good Friday, then King 
 Brian would fall, but still win the day. On Good Friday, then, 
 which fell in 1014 on the 18th of April, the heathen made up their 
 minds to fight ; and that nothing might be wanting to stamp the 
 struggle with the seal of the ancient faith, Odin himself, as the legend 
 darkly hints, rode up, as we are told in many like stories, on an apple- 
 grey horse, holding a halbert in his hand, and held a council of war 
 with Kormlada, King Sigtrygg, and the other chiefs ; one of the last 
 appearances of the god of battles struggling with the fate which now 
 at last had overtaken him, and helping his own on the very eve of 
 battle with his comfort and advice. Nor were other tokens wanting. 
 In Iceland itself, at SwinefeU, where Flosi and the burners had so 
 long stayed, blood burst out on the priest's vestmentsi on Good Friday; 
 and at Thvattwater, Hall's abode, on the same day, the priest saw an 
 abyss open hard by the altar as he sang mass, in which were strange 
 and awful things. The northern mind plainly long looked on Brian's 
 battle as a blow that went home to the heart of many a household. In 
 Caithness, and in other parts of the west, the Valkyries, Odin's 
 corse-choosing maidens, were seen, twelve of them riding together, 
 dismounting, entering a bower, setting up their mystic loom, and 
 
IN ICELAND. 193 
 
 there weaviag out of the entrails of men, with swords for their shuttles, 
 that grim Woof of War, which is at once one of the last, as it is one 
 of the grandest flights of the Scandinavian Swan-maiden, ere she 
 winged her way for ever from the world, together with the faith to 
 which she and that wild strain of melody belonged.' * 
 
 This is the famous Ode which was translated by Gray from 
 Bartholin's Latin versitm. As given in the Njal's Saga, the 
 ' Woof ' has been admirably rendered by Mr. Dasent. 
 
 The issue of the battle was as Brodir had' foreseen. He 
 himself killed King Brian, but was taken arid tortured to 
 death in reyenge. One passage from the description of the 
 fight in the Saga is remarkable. The account was probably 
 brought back to Iceland by Thorsteia, Hall of the Side's son, 
 who figures in it : — 
 
 ' Then Earl Sigurd called on Thorstein, the son of Bbll of the Side, 
 to bear his banner ; and Thorstein was just about to lift the banner, 
 but then Asmund the White said — 
 
 * " Don't bear the banner ; for all they who bear it get their death." 
 •"Hrafn the E«d!" called out Earl Sigurd; "bear thou the 
 
 banner." 
 
 ' "Bear thine own devil thyself," answered Hrafn. 
 
 ' Then the Earl said — 
 
 ' "'Tis fittest that the beggar should bear the bag ; " and with that 
 he took the banner from the staff, and put it under his cloak. 
 
 'A little after Asmund the White was slain, and then the Earl was 
 pierced through with a spear. 
 
 ' Then flight broke out throughout all the host. 
 
 * Thorsteia, HaU of the Side's son, stood stiU while aU the others 
 fled, and tied his shoe-string. Then. KerthiaUad asked why he ran 
 not as the others. 
 
 ' "Because," said Thorstein, "I can't get home to-night, since I am 
 at home out in Iceland." 
 
 ' Eerthialfad gave him peace. 
 
 'Hrafn the Red was chased out into a, certain river ; he thought he 
 saw there the pains of hell down below him, and he thought the devils 
 wanted to drag him to them. 
 
 ' Then Hrafn said — 
 
 ' " Thy dog. Apostle Peter, hath run twice to Kome, and he would 
 run the third time if thou gavest him leave." 
 
 ' Then the devils let him loose, and Hrafn got across the river.' 
 
 * Story of Bwrnt Njal, vol. i., Introd. cxciv.-vi. 
 
 13 
 
194 
 
 THE CHANGE OP FAITH 
 
 The result of Brian's battle was thus complete victory for 
 neither side. Christianity had still a long course to run 
 before its teaching could shine out in its true purity ; and in 
 Iceland, as elsewhere throughout the North, the old faith 
 underlay the neW, chequering it with strange reflections ; a 
 mingled creed, as fantastic in- its outUnes as the wUd lights 
 and shadows that chase each other along the Icelander's own 
 rough hill-sides. 
 
 The first Icelandic bishop was Isleif, son of Grizur the 
 White, Hjallti's companion on the Law Mount. He had 
 been educated for the priesthood at Erfurth, in Thuringia, 
 one of the great schools of the time, and brought back to his 
 own country a wide reputation • for learning, John, the first 
 bishop of Holar, who was brought up by him, used to say, 
 wheneTcr he heard of those who were goodly to look upon, or 
 of great skill' in any way, ' Such was Isleif the bishop, my 
 foster-father, the goodliest and most skilful of men.' His son 
 Gizur succeeded him, and established the see at Skalholt. A 
 second Icelandic bishopric, for the northern division of the 
 island, was soon afterwards established at Holar, with a great- 
 grandson of Hall of the Side for its first bishop. Two of the 
 leaders who had been most active in- ' bringing Christianiiy 
 into the law ' were thus represented in^ the first chiefs of the 
 National Church. 
 
 Ecclesiology is by no means a strong point with the most 
 recent Icelandic tourists, and their descriptions give us but 
 vague ideas of the present state of the churches throughout 
 the island, or of their antiquity and architectural character. 
 According to Mr. Metcalfe, indeed,- there is but httle to say 
 about them. They are almost aU new, and of wood ; ' they 
 don't look like churches. They might be so many wooden 
 warehouses, with their square-headed windows and utter want 
 of architecture.' Such, he tells us, is the present church of 
 Thiugvalla, which occupies the site of the old heathen temple, 
 
IN ICELAND. 195 
 
 near lihe mouth of the Oxara river. The materials for the 
 first church here, together with a great bell, were sent from 
 Norway by St. Olaf. This building was destroyed by a 
 tempest ; and a second, the timber for which was the offer- 
 ing of the Norwegian King Harald Sigurdson, shared the 
 same fate during the Althing of 1118,. on the d6ath-day of 
 Bishop Gizur. The most interesting rehc of antiquity con- 
 nected with the church of Thingvalla is a large unhewn stone, 
 of oblong shape, near the church door, ' on which is scored 
 •the exact eU measure of Iceland. It formerly stood in the 
 church wall of the ancient church, and has- doubtless been 
 witness to many a shrewd bargain at the national meeting, 
 when piles of cloth would exchange hands ; and, in case of 
 dispute about the quantity, it would be made use of as an 
 impartial referee.'* 
 
 Another site in the Thingfield has a still higher interest 
 than that of the church. The two great crosses brought to 
 Iceland by Grizur and Hjallti, and borne before them on the 
 Law Mount, were afterwards^ fixed in the rock, where they 
 remained for some centuries. The place of that which 
 measured the height of Olaf TTryggvison is stiU pointed out 
 as the ' Cleft of the Cross.' 
 
 The two ancient cathedrals of Iceland have altogether 
 fallen from their high estate. 
 
 ' Skalholt, that is the single f a^m-house now representing the place, 
 stands on an eminence just in the fort formed, by the junction of the 
 Bruard. and Hvitd, and overshadowed on the south by the tall Vorduf ell 
 As may at once be perceived, the site of the episcopal residence was 
 chosen with great tact and forethought. In the first place, there was 
 abundance of grass in the fertile Bishopstunga to fatten >the beeves 
 and palfreys of the bishops. And as for fish, there were waters 
 enough around to supply the extensive demand, and hot springs to 
 cook them when caught, or, if requisite, to wash" the ecclesiastics. 
 But what was of great importance, Skalholt was secure against hostile 
 surprise on every side but the north-east, in consequence of the river- 
 
 * Oxoniam, i/n Iceland. 
 
196 THE CHANGE OE FAITH IN ICELAND. 
 
 barriers about it Very little now remains to show the former 
 
 importance of the place. The present little church is merely a chapel 
 of ease. Grass-grown mounds to the south-west of this edifice indicate 
 the site of extensive ecclesiastical buildings. Yonder, an enclosure 
 marks the large episcopal garden. There are also the foundations of 
 a prayer-house to the east of the church, measuring twelve paces long 
 and six wide.'* 
 
 The ancient church contained the relics of St. Thorlak, one 
 of the great patron saints of Iceland, who died Ibishop of 
 Skalholt : in 1193, and whose shrine, rich in gold and jewels, 
 was carried .round the church on his festival. After the skull- 
 had crumbled into dust. Bishop Wilkin, at the end of the 
 fourteenth century, is said to have replaced it with a large 
 cocoa-nut shell- which had been thrown ashore by the Gulf- 
 stream. St. Thorlak was honoured throughout the North, 
 but was never solemnly canonized. ' One in England,' says 
 the legend, ' mocking him, held up to his image a turf, and 
 said, " Wilt thou this turf? thou art of Iceland ;" whereupon 
 his hand dried up, and so continued until he entreated 
 i?t. Thorlak, and it was restored.'t 
 
 * Oxomwn m Iceland. 
 
 t F.' Johannssus, Hist, Eccks. Islomdiae, i, 299. 
 
Y. 
 
 THE GEEAT SHRINES OF ENGLMD * 
 
 THE difference in ihe circucnstances under wMch the 
 English settlements in Britain were first made, and 
 the first northern conquerors established themselves in Gaul, 
 is reflected in the whole later history of each country. In 
 Britain the earlier population was either gradually driven to 
 the remoter corners of the island, or (to all appearance) was 
 entirely extinguished. At any rate, no Brito-Roman influ- 
 ence is .traceable in^the polity or habits of thought of the 
 heathen colonists. But in Gaul, and in the other southern 
 countries to which Teutons found their way, they encountered 
 an old Roman civilization far more perfect and widely spread 
 than any that had existed in Britain, and which, unlike that 
 of Britain, was still comparatively unbroken. The conquerors 
 themselves were conquered by it. They accepted Christianity 
 from the Romanized Bishops of the G^-llic cities; and 
 although 'they crossed the Rhine as heathens, they were 
 nowhere left, as in Britain, without the spectacle of grea.t 
 Christian churches and seryices. before they learnt themselves 
 to adore what they ,had burned, and to burn what they had 
 adored. One marked result of this difference appears in the 
 nationality of the saints chiefly reverenced in the two coun- 
 tries. Tlie great saints of the Gallic provinces are for the 
 most part Romans, or Romanized provincials. St. Remigius 
 of Rheims, St. Martin of Tours, and St. Hilary of Aries, re- 
 presented the clergy whom the FranMsh conquerors found 
 
 * Qxm/rterVy Review, July, 18Y2. 
 
198 THE GEEAT SHRINES 
 
 presiding over the cities of which they took possession, and 
 from whom they received the Christian faith. In Gaul no 
 saint of Teutonic origin ever attained equal distinction. But 
 in England it is quite different. Here the great national 
 saints are Englishmen an"d Englishwomen, — St. Edmund, 
 St. Cuthbert, St. Etheldreda. British saints, indeed, like 
 David of Menevia, kept their hold in Wales and in Cornwall ; 
 ■but there the races were not mingled, and St. Alban alone, 
 the so-called protomartyr of Britain, occupies a position at 
 all analogous to that of the Grallic saints. Like them he 
 belonged to the older race, but received his greatest honours 
 from the new-comers. 
 
 It is hardly peculiar to England, but is perhaps a necessary 
 result of the social conditions under which Christianity was 
 embraced by the northern races, that the greater number 
 of persons reverenced as saints in this country before the 
 Norman Conquest were of royal or of noble birth. The 
 origin of St. Cuthbert is doubtful; but so impressed were 
 the early hagiologists with the belief that a 'regia origo' was 
 a fitting accompaniment of saintship, that a descent from 
 certain Irish kings was duly discovered for him.* This 
 descent is at least as doubtful a^ that of St. Rumold, the 
 patron of Mechlin, — son, according to his legend, of a king 
 of Scotland ; on which account the archbishops of Mechlin 
 still quarter the lion of Scotland with the arms assigned to 
 their see.f Welsh genealogists went still farther ; and 
 whilst they asserted the royal descent of St. David and St. 
 Cadoc, they traced them back, on the female side, to a sister 
 
 * An inscription, placed by Prior Wesaington under an image of 
 St. Cuthbert' in Durham Cathedral described him as ' natione Hiber- 
 nicus, regiis parentibus ortus.' (Raine's St. Cuthbert, p. 15, note.) But 
 Bede knew nothing of this descent. 
 
 t Or at any rate did so until very lately. The shield of Scotland 
 is to be seen quartered with the arms of many archbishops, on their 
 tombs in the cathedral. 
 
OP ENGLAND. 199 
 
 or a cousin of the Blessed Virgin.* Much strong tribal and 
 local feeling was thus necessarily mixed with the reverence 
 paid to the religious character. Each English kingdom pos- 
 sessed its own saints, more honoured in their own district 
 than in other parts of the country, and the greater part of 
 them httle recognized beyond the sea. It was this intensely 
 national character of the English saints which caused Lanfranc, 
 after the Conquest, to question their claims to the honours 
 they had up to that time received.! In his hesitation there 
 is something of the hardness and perhaps of the political spirit 
 of a conqueror; but nothing indicates more clearly the strong 
 English feeling with which the Church of our forefathers was 
 penetrated. Nor did this national feeling by any means cease 
 with the Conquest. The Confessor at Westminster and 
 Bishop Wulfstan at Worcester were both received by popular 
 consent into the company of saints long before the eleventh 
 century had expired, and long before their final canonization. 
 It is impossible to follow Thierry in regarding St. Thomas of 
 Canterbury as the representative of the English people in 
 struggle with an ' alien' king; but it is sufficiently clear that 
 after his martyrdom he was looked upon as a true English- 
 man. The last saint recognized in this country before the 
 Reformation was St. Thomas Cantilupe of Hereford,— ra 
 member of that noble family which, after Normans and 
 Enghsh had become fused into one people, assisted in the 
 struggle against another foreign domination, and in the 
 person of William Cantilupe, Bishop of Worcester, blessed 
 the host of the barons before they rose in arms to fight at 
 Lewes and Evesham. And the English feeling which recog- 
 
 * Lives of the Cambro-British Saints (Welsh MSS. Society), pp. 
 378—402. The biographers of St. Patrick constructed a genealogy, 
 in which they traced his descent from Brutus of Troy, ' a quo sunt 
 Britanni nominati.' — Todd's St. Patricle, p. 353. 
 
 t Eadmer, Vita Ansehm ; quoted by Freeman, Norm. Conquest, vqL 
 iv. p. 442. Lanfranc ooDSulted Ansehn, who removed his prejudices. 
 
200 THE GEE AT SHEINES 
 
 nized the national spirit of the Cantilupes, led also to the 
 honouring as saints of such great leaders as Simon of Mont- 
 fort and Earl Thomas of Lancaster, in the first instance not 
 perhaps altogether unworthily, in the seccmd with more 
 questionable right. But both 'fought for England' and for 
 the English people. Saintly honours and the ascription of 
 miracles at his tomb were the greatest distinction that could be 
 paid after death; and in those ages popular love and regret 
 took that form almost naturally. It will be well, however, 
 before entering farther on this subject, to pass in somewhat 
 rapid review the great shrines of England as they existed 
 toward the middle of the fifteenth century, when their 
 number had long been completed, and before the signs of the 
 coming religious change had become too marked to be disre- 
 garded. The fashion of pilgrimages was then perhaps at its 
 height, and the English shrines, throughout the coimtry, stood 
 untouched and unrivalled in their magnificence and stores of 
 wealth... 
 
 We wiU suppose that: a pilgrim bound to visit 'sanctorum 
 Ajaglicanse religionis reliquias et loca. venerabilia' — ^like that 
 Armenian archbishop who in the year 1228 was entertained 
 in the hospitable Abbey of St. Alban's, and there edified the 
 monks with the history of the Wandering Jew* — ^has landed at 
 Bristol, a port from which pilgrims frequently sailed for Oom- 
 posteUa, and which may well have been a place of arrival for 
 strangerswhose errands were of similar nature. Such a pilgrim 
 would find the country south of the Bristol Channel — Somerset- 
 shire, Devon, and . Cornwall — without any shrine of the first 
 importance; though he would of course turn southward to 
 visit the green hills of Glastonbury, a 'station' regarded 
 as of great sanctity, rather from the accumulation of sup- 
 posed refics than from the reputation of any one great tomb. 
 No EngHsh church claimed more unhesitatingly the posses- 
 * Matt. Paris, ad. ann. 1228, p. 296 (ed. Wats.) 
 
OP ENGLAND. 201 
 
 sion of so many and so great relics, and none witli so little 
 reason. Yet Glastonbury had her authentic tombs, which an 
 Englishman, at least, might well venerate — setting aside the 
 remains of the legendary Arthur and his Queen Gruinevere, 
 which after their 'invention,' in. the reign of Richard I., 
 found -their final resting-place in a sepulchre before the high 
 altar.* On. the north side of the British king reposed the 
 actual remains of Edmund the Elder — the 'magnificent;' on 
 the south, those of his namesake and descendant, the noble 
 Edmund Ironside; and behind the presbytery, in a separate 
 chapel, lay. Edgar the ' peaceful ' — sainted, if never canon- 
 ized.f Before his tomb the pilgrim might kneel ; but his 
 special devotion at Glastonbury would be claimed by St. 
 Joseph of Arimathea, St. Dunstan, St. Gildas, St. Patrick, and 
 others, whose relics seem to have been displayed in their 
 several chapels. There are few sites in England more re- 
 markable or more interesting than Glastonbury — the 'Isle 
 of Avalon,' which was the common sanctuary of Briton and 
 of Englishman, and which alone among the older British 
 churches (without the border of what is now Wales) survived 
 the storm of the English Conquest. But Glastonbury was 
 for a considerable period within the limits of 'West Wales;' 
 and it was the long continuance of this British kingdom — ^the 
 powerful kingdom of Damnonia — ^which not only gave to 
 Glastonbury her peculiar character, but materially affected 
 the whole of the western peninsula. We may thus account 
 for the absence of any great English shrine in that district. 
 Exeter possessed none. Crediton, the first seat of the 
 bishopric, was without a shrine — although the deep religious 
 fervour of the earlier EngHsh settlers is in none more con- 
 
 * Leland saw the tomb there. The Bones of King Arthur, of 
 gigantic size, were shown to Edward I. and his queen in 1276. The 
 skulls of Arthur and Guinevere were kept outside the tomb, ' for the 
 devotion of the people.' 
 
 f. WiUis's ArcMtectural History of Glastoribv/ry Abbey ^ p.'33. 
 
202 THE GBEAT SHEINBS 
 
 spicuous than in St. Boniface, the 'Apostle of Germany,' 
 born, according to universal belief, and the ancient tradition of 
 the country, at Crediton, late in the seventh century. But all 
 this country was for some centuries a sort of borderland from 
 which the Britons were gradually driven westward ; and as 
 we advance farther west we find that such saints as were 
 chiefly if not exclusively reverenced were of British origin, 
 more or less connected with Wales and Armorica. In the 
 church of the Benedictines at Tavistock, which stood near the 
 limit finally assigned by Athelstan to the Britons, stood the 
 splendid shrine of St. Rumon, a Cornish bishop of whom 
 nothing but the name is known, whose relics were obtained 
 for the abbey by Ordulf the giant, son of the founder. Earl 
 Ordgar. Tavistock was an English foundation, and her 
 Cornish tutelary saint (the abbey was dedicated in the names 
 of St. Rumon and of the Blessed Virgin) affords a curious 
 proof of the mixture of races in this district. In Cornwall 
 itself, although the Augustinians of Bodmin possessed the 
 shrine of St. Petroc, and although the names of saints are 
 numerous, there was but one place of pilgrimage of great 
 importance — St. Michael's Mount — ^visited in honour of the 
 Archangel, who is said to have appeared to certain hermits 
 on the crags — 
 
 ' The great vision of the guarded Mount' 
 
 of Lycidas. The Cornish St. Michael's became a cell to the 
 great Abbey of St. Michael ' in periculo maris,' on the oppo- 
 site coast of Normandy. The devotion paid here to the 
 Archangel is not less distinctly of British character than if 
 the saint of the Mount had been St. David or St. Teilo. 
 Ninety-four churches and chapels, the ' Llanfihangels ' so 
 frequently met with, are dedicated to his honour in different 
 parts of Wales.* 
 
 *-Ilees' Essay on the Welsh Samts,-p. 40, There are in Wales 143 
 
OF ENGLAND. 203 
 
 Returning to Bristol, and crossing the mouth of the Severn, 
 the pilgrim, journeying along the ancient ' Via Julia,' would 
 find his way to St. David's, long regarded as the most sacred 
 spot in Wales, and stUl almost unrivalled in its attraction for 
 the antiquary and the lover of untrammelled nature. No 
 British coast is grander, and nowhere else are noble archi- 
 tecture and a wild rocky landscape brought into such close 
 relationship — each heightening the other's interest. In the 
 great cathedral, ' Ty Ddewi,' the ' house of David,' as it was 
 called, rested the shrine of the patron of Wales — the saint 
 who, besides his labours in his own country, helped to regulate 
 the Irish Church of the sixth century, and who influenced, 
 more perhaps than is generally suspected, the lives and 
 teaching of the missionaries who found their way from lona 
 to the ' regions of the Picts,' and to the kingdoms of English 
 Northumbria.* DifiScult of access and remotely placed, it 
 was not perhaps without reason that the old verse pronounced 
 two pilgrimages to St. David's equal in merit to one made to 
 Home — 
 
 ' Meneviam pete bis, Bomam adire si vis, — 
 ^qua merces tibi redditiix hio et ibi. 
 Koma semel quantum dat bis Menevia tantum.' 
 
 The shrine was visited and reverenced by the Conqueror, 
 by Henry II., and by Edward I, ; and it was while resting 
 here, before embarking for Ireland, that Henry II. is said to 
 have learnt from a Welsh bard the position of King Arthur's 
 
 cburches dedicated to the Blessed Virgin, and 53 to St. David. These, 
 with the Archangel Michael, are the saints chiefly honoured. 
 
 * All these missionaries belonged to what is called the ' second 
 order' of Irish saints (see Todd's Sit. Fatrick, p. 88, note). They ' do 
 not appear to have had any connection with Armagh, or the institutions 
 of St. Patrick (ib. p. 95) ; but had received a Mass or Liturgy from 
 St. David. The lives of nearly all these Irish saints bring them 
 to Menevia, where they join the 'famUia' of St. David.— Todd's 
 8t. Patrick, p. 100 ; Haddan and Stubbs, CowncUs amd EceUs. Bocu- 
 mmts, i.pp. 115, 116. 
 
204 THE GEE AT SHEINES 
 
 tomb at Glastonbury — ^thus leading to the famous ' invention 
 of Ms remains. 
 
 The list of true Welsh saints is somewhat long, but not one 
 attained the celebrity or the distinction of St. David — ^the only 
 Welsh or Cornish saint whose name appears in the calendars 
 of the Western Church. Leaving Wales, therefore, and 
 turning northward from Bristol, our first resting-place is 
 Grloucester, where the Benedictines guarded in their magni- 
 ficent church the tomb of Edward II. — ^beyond all doubt no 
 saintly shrine, and only recommended as a place of pilgrimage 
 by the ' divinity that doth hedge a king,' and by the circum- 
 stances of the unhappy Edward's death. It is in fact a curious 
 and unusual example of the homage which, as has before 
 been mentioned, was paid at certain ' political ' shrines. 
 Edward II. had few merits, and an overpowering weight of 
 demerits. But after the erection of his superb tomb- by his 
 young son Edward III. pilgrims flocked to- it in -such- num^- 
 bers that, as it was asserted^ the oblations made at it within 
 fifty years would have sufficed to build the whole church 
 anew. It was thought that offerings at the king's tomb 
 availed to turn aside the Divine anger from the nation. 
 Edward III. himself, when once in danger of shipwreck, 
 vowed to preseni a golden ship (navicula — ^probably a vessel 
 for incense) at his father's shrine. The Black Prince offered 
 a crucifix containing a portion of the holy cross ; and the 
 rich presents of many princes and nobles hung round the 
 tomb, which, with its canopy rising in sheaves of tabernacle 
 work, is still one of the chief glories of the noble churfih of 
 Grloucester. No similar offerings were ever made at the tomb 
 of King John in the choir of Worcester, 'No man cried 
 God bless him.' In the hour of his death at Newark (October 
 16, 1216) he ' commended his body and soul to St. Wulfstan,' 
 the last great English saint who had been canonized (by 
 Innocent III. in 1203), and before whose tomb the king had 
 
OF ENGLAND. 205 
 
 more than once knelt in such devotion as was possible with 
 him. The shrines of St. Wnlfstan and St. Oswald stood one 
 on either side of the high altar. In front and between them 
 was the tomb of King John — a position which, it was asserted, 
 fulfilled a prophecy of Merlin, ' et inter sanctos coUocabitur.' 
 St. Wulfstan, ' vir magnse pietatis et colnmbinae simplicitatis,' 
 in the words of William of Mahnesbury, was Bishop of 
 Worcester before, during, and after the Norman Conquest. 
 It is of him that the story is told,' how, when called upon by 
 Lanfranc to resign his see and to deliver up his pastoral stafi', 
 he refused to do so unless to the Confessor, from whom he 
 had received it. He laid it accordingly on the 'Confessor's 
 tomb, which opened and enclosed it. 'No one could with- 
 draw it but Wulfstan himself, who was of course permitted 
 to retain his see.* St. Oswald, an earher Bishop of Worcester, 
 was the friend and (in his support of the monks against the 
 regular clergy) the coadjutor of Dunstan. He was the 
 founder of the monastery and the builder of the first great 
 church at Worcester. 
 
 At Worcester we are in the old province of the Hwiccas, a 
 portion of the great Mercian kingdom. From this place, still 
 keeping within the Mercian limits, the pilgrim might turn 
 south-west to Hereford. There, in the beautiful transept of 
 the cathedral, stood the shrine of St. Thomas of Cantilupe, 
 at the translation of whose relics Edward II. was present in 
 1286, although the saint himself was not formally canonized 
 until 1320. St. Thomas, Bishop of Hereford between the 
 years 1275 and 1282, was, as has already been said, the last 
 Englishman recognized as a saint before the Beformation.t 
 
 * Matt. Paris, p. 288 (ed. Wats.). This story is first told by Ailred 
 of RievaTilx, writing in the next century. A very interesting account 
 of the ' Life and Times of St. Wulfstan,' by the Dean of Chichester, 
 ■wiU be found in the 20th volume of the ArchoBologiecd Jov/mcd. 
 
 t The last recognized as a saint, but not the last formally canonized. 
 This was St. Osmund of Sarum, who died ia 1099, and was not 
 
206 THE GEEAT SHEINES 
 
 He was Provincial Grand Master of the Templars in England; 
 and armed figures of Templars, treading on dragons, muzzled 
 swine, and various monsters, fill the niches which surround 
 the pedestal of his shrine, still remaining at Hereford. 
 Hereford never possessed more than the bones of her sainted 
 bishop. He died near Orvieto, on his way to Eome, in 1282; 
 and, as was then usual in similar cases, his body was boiled, 
 so as to separate the flesh from the bones. The flesh was in- 
 terred in a neighbouring church. The bones were brought 
 to Hereford. As they were conveyed into the church, Gilbert 
 de Clare, Earl of Gloucester, touched the casket which con- 
 tained them. The bones bled afresh; and Earl Gilbert, struck 
 vrith compunction, made full restitution to the church of 
 Hereford of certain lauds which the bishop had long claimed 
 in vain.* ' Superstition,' says Fuller, ' is always fondest of 
 the youngest saint . . . and no fewer than four hundred and 
 twenty-five miracles are registered, reported to have been 
 wrought at the tomb ' of St. Thomas of Oantilupe. Here- 
 ford possessed an older shrine — ^that of St, Ethelbert, King 
 of East Anglia, who was murdered about the year 792 in a 
 neighbouring palace of the Mercian kings. But the reputa- 
 tion of this shrine was altogether eclipsed by that of the 
 'youngest saint.' 
 
 Returning to Worcester, the pilgrim would find his way to 
 the very heart of England — ^to Lichfield of the triple spires — 
 the most ancient episcopal see of Mercia. There in the retro- 
 choir, behind the high altar, rose the great shrine of St. Chad 
 — ' Ceadda ' — bishop of the Mercians between 669 and 672, 
 for which period he ruled ' gloriosissime ' the vast diocese, 
 then conterminous with the Mercian kingdom. The story of 
 his death at Lichfield, and of the company of angels who 
 
 canonized until 1456, although he had always been regarded as a 
 saint in his own diocese. 
 * Life and Deeds of St. Thomas CantUupe, Ghent, 1674. 
 
OP ENGLAND. 207 
 
 cheered him ia his cell with their celestial harmony, is told at 
 
 length by Bede.* Cavaliers delighted to tell the later story 
 
 of the siege, — 
 
 ' . . . . "When fanatic Brooke 
 The fair cathedral spoiled and took ; 
 Though, thanks to heaven and good Saint Chad, 
 A guerdon meet the spoiler had.' 
 
 The siege began on St. Chad's festival (March 2), and on the 
 second day Lord Brooke was shot dead from the tower of the 
 cathedral. 
 
 Through a portion of what is now the ' black country,' but 
 was then a fair, green land, 
 
 ' With shadowy forests and with champions riched,' 
 the traveller of the fifteenth century might proceed to Chester, 
 there to kneel before the tomb of St. Werbnrgh. Werburgh 
 was the daughter of Wulfere, King of Mercia, and, by her 
 mother, was a descendant of Anna, King of the East Anglians, 
 all of whose daughters were sainted. She died in the seventh 
 century ; and in 875, when the Northmen were ravaging 
 Mercia, her relics were brought to Chester, where they re- 
 mained undisturbed, and where the ealdorman ^thelred and 
 his wife ^thelflsed, the * Lady of Mercia,' afterwards built 
 a church to receive them. Werburgh became the great 
 patroness of the city : — 
 
 ' In the Abbay of Chestre she is shryned rychely, 
 Pryores and lady of that holy place. 
 
 if » * * * ' 
 
 Protectryce of the cytee she is and ever was, 
 Called specyall prymate and pryncypaU presydent, 
 There rulyng under our lorde omnypotent.'t 
 
 The remarkable well of St. Winifred, some distance west 
 of Chester, attracted numerous pilgrims, and still, in 'bathing 
 
 * Hist. Eccles., 1. iv. c. 3. 
 
 f Eoly Life <md History of St. Werbv/rgh, by John Bradshaw, Monk 
 of Chester ; printed by Pynson in 1521, and reprinted by the Chetham 
 Society. 
 
208 THE GEE AT SHEINES 
 
 hours,' affords a very curious scene; but there is no shadow of 
 ancient authority for the very existence of the saint, and her 
 whole story seems to have come into existence in the early 
 part of the twelfth century.* 
 
 Turning north from Chester, we enter a wide region, un- 
 marked by the possession of a single shrine of importance ; it 
 may almost be said that it contained no place of pilgrimage 
 whatever. Again we must look to the earlier history of the 
 country for an explanation. Much of this north-western 
 land, lying west of the hill-ranges known as the ' backbone 
 of England,' was included within the British kingdoms of 
 Strathclyde and Cumbria long after the regions east and south 
 of it had been thoroughly Anglicized. The British boundaries 
 varied at different times. Cumbria maintained for a con- 
 siderable period a close connection with "Wales ; but the 
 whole life of the kingdom was stormy and obscure, and it 
 produced no British clergy of learning or religion such as 
 Wales, during the same period, recognized as saints. The see 
 of Carlisle was not founded imtil after the Norman Conquest, 
 and the cathedral possessed no shrine. Beyond the Solway 
 there were two great places of pilgrimage within the Strath- 
 clyde kingdom — Whithem, the ' Candida Casa ' of Bede, 
 where St. Ninian, in the fifth century, had founded, in a 
 position not unlike that of St. David's, close to the rocky 
 coast of Galloway, a church in which his shrine was long 
 reverenced by the kings of Scotland ; and Glasgow, where 
 was the tomb of St. Kentigem, better known as ' St. Mungo,' 
 the founder of the cathedral. Kentigern, who belongs to the 
 sixth century, was made by the genealogists a nephew of King 
 Arthur, like St. David of Wales. He seems to have been an 
 active missionary throughout Strathclyde and Cumbria, and 
 eight churches fn Cumberland are named in his honour. 
 
 * See Haddan and Stubbs, Councils, vol, i. p. 161 (note ' a') ; and 
 Rees, Welsh Saints, p. 297, 
 
OP ENGLAND. . 209. 
 
 These were the only shrines of importance between the Sol- 
 way and Forth, which ' bridles the wild Highlandman,' and 
 beyond which we meet with numerous saints whose names 
 indicate their Gaelic origin. The tomb of St. Margaret, 
 queen of Malcolm III., at Dunfermline, is the single shrine 
 which connects Scotland with the great company of English 
 saints reverenced south of the Tweed. 
 
 Crossing the country from Carlisle along the line of the 
 Homan wall, the pilgrim might visit Hexham, more from 
 respect for the site where St. Wilfrid had raised his church 
 and St. John of Beverley had long dwelt, than for the sake 
 of any actual relics there ; but would press eagerly onward 
 to the < holy land of St. Cuthbert,'— 
 
 ' Where Tiis cathedral huge and vast 
 Looks down upon the Wear.' 
 
 Here, as he approached the city from the north, and beheld, 
 suddenly outstretched before him, that unrivalled scene — ^the 
 castle, with the banner of the Prince-bishop floating from its 
 keep, the church and conventual buildings rising sheer from 
 the face of the river-cliff, and towering above masses of 
 greenwood that line the broad winding stream, he would 
 kneel with no ordinary feeling before the cross of ' Montjoie,' 
 as the spot was called from which pilgrims caught the first 
 view of the shrine to which they were bound.* This was the 
 great shrine of all the north. In the splendour and dignity 
 of the church which protected it, in the richness and singu- 
 larity of the offerings which hung round it, it was exceeded 
 by no other in the kingdom, with the exception, possibly, of 
 that of St. Thomas at Canterbury. But, in the north, Dur- 
 ham was without a rival. York herself, always jealous of the 
 ' bishoprick,' could set forth in her stately minster no shrine 
 at all comparable in attraction or importance to that of St. 
 
 Cuthbert. 
 
 * Ducange, s. v. 
 
 14 
 
210 THE GEEAT SHBINES 
 
 And besides the 'incorrupt body' of the great patron, 
 the pilgrim might reverence, before their altar in the beau- 
 tiful Galilee, the relics of the Venerable Bede — acquired 
 for the church of Durham by one of those ' pious thefts ' of 
 which we shall presently have more to say. . Within St. Outh- 
 bert's shrine was deposited the head of St. Oswald, Christian 
 king of Northumbria, who fell in battle with the ieathen 
 Penda of Mercia in the year 642. His head, fixed on a stake, 
 was raised on the battle-field by Penda. It was afterwards 
 removed and brought to Lindisfarne,* and it accompanied 
 the coffin of St. Cuthbert in its many wanderings. The 
 figures of St. Cuthbert at Durham and elsewhere represented 
 him as bearing the head of Oswald in his arms. At Bam- 
 borough were reverenced the hand and arm of the same 
 St. Oswald ; on which a blessing had been pronounced by the 
 Bishop Aidan, when the king, hearing that a number of poor 
 were assembled without his hall, ordered the meat which had 
 just been placed before him to be distributed among them, 
 together with the silver dish, broken into fragments. On 
 his way back to Durham, the pilgrim might visit Tyne- 
 mouth, where, in the church of the Priory, hanging over 
 the North Sea, was the shrine of St. Oswin, king of Deira. 
 I'rom Durham he would advance southward to York. The 
 metropolitan church of the north was, indeed, as ^neas 
 Sylvius described it, ' toto orbe memorandum ; ' but St. 
 Paulinus, its founder, was reverenced far away at Rochester; 
 and its chief shrine was that of St. William, Archbishop of 
 York, who -died in 1154. The head of the saint was kept by 
 itself in a reliquary of silver gilt, and covered with jewels. 
 It was the greatest treasure of the cathedral; and when Mar- 
 garet, daughter of Henry VII., rested at York on her way 
 into Scotland, she knelt and kissed it with great devotion. 
 St. William, it is said, was poisoned in the chalice — a fact or 
 * Bede, H.E., 1. iii. c. 12. 
 
OF ENGLAND. 2l!li 
 
 a calumny to which reference is made in one of the hymns 
 for his office : — 
 
 ' Tozicatur a propliams 
 Ille potuB, ille pania, 
 
 Per quem pent toxicum. 
 Ambo prsesul amplexatur, 
 St per unum moriatur 
 Et vivat per reliquum.'* 
 
 Before the canonization of St. William by Pope Nicholas III., 
 York had felt greatly the want of an important shrine. 
 Wealth was flowing daily into the coffers of St. Cuthhert, 
 whilst little or none came to her ; and within her own imme- 
 diate jurisdiction she saw crowds of pilgrims turn aside to lay 
 their offerings before St. Wilfrid at Bipon and St. John at 
 Beverley. As Canterbury contested the possession of St. 
 Dunstan with Glastonbury, so she insisted that the true body 
 of St. Wilfrid was deposited with her, and not at Bipon. 
 ReUcs called his, however, were certainly honoured in the 
 latter church, and Wilfrid was, no doubt, interred at Bipon, 
 the place which he had loved beyond all others in his lifetime. 
 Pilgrims to Bipon visited the remarkable crypt, which is the 
 most perfect existing relic of the first age of Christianity in 
 Northern England, and which contains the opening known as 
 ' St. Wilfrid's needle.' Curious ceremomes were connected 
 with it, not, as we shall presently see, unlike others in use at 
 some Continental shrines. 
 
 Bipon, York, and Beverley were the three centres of early 
 Christianity in Northumbria. Beverley derived her import- 
 ance from the foundation of a monastery by St. John, Bishop 
 of Hexham, and afterwards of York, who died there in 721. 
 A superb minster arose over his tomb, and 'li bons Johans 
 . . . celui ki gist k Beverli,* canonized in 1037, attained a 
 reputation only exceeded in the north by that of St. Cuthbert. 
 
 * From a hymn printed by Canon Baiue in his Lives of the Areh- 
 hishops of York. 
 
212 THE GEEAT SHBINES 
 
 Rcott, indeed, has linked his name with that of a greater saint 
 than Cuthbert:— 
 
 ■ Come ye from the east, or come ye from the west, 
 
 Or bring relics from over the sea ; 
 Or come ye from the shrine of Saint James the Divine 
 Or Saint John of Beverley ?'* 
 
 The victory of Agincourt (October 25, 1415) was gained on 
 the day of his translation, and Henry V., with his queen, 
 afterwards made a pilgrimage to the shrine.f 
 
 The great Cistercian churches of Yorkshire possessed no 
 shrine — unless we must except the tomb of St. Ailred at Rie- 
 vaulx. The monks of Fountains tried hard to obtain the body 
 of St. Robert, a hermit, who died about 1218, in a cell which 
 he had constructed on the Nid, near Knaresborough.J But 
 St. Robert was buried in the chapel attached to his cell, 
 which, since the middle of the last century, has received 
 numerous pilgrims of a very different description from those 
 who anciently frequented it. St. Robert's cell is the cave in 
 which Eugene Aram hid the body of Clark; and had he 
 known of the existence of the saint's coffin, hewn in the rock 
 — ^which has been discovered of late years — ^he might have 
 used it for the effectual concealment of his guilt. This was 
 probably a very local place of pilgrimage, and there was no 
 great shrine to delay the traveller until he reached Lincoln. 
 
 ♦ Sir "Walter Scott, The Grey Brother. 
 
 f The day (Oct. 25) was also the festival of SS. Crispin and Cris- 
 pinian : — 
 
 ' This story shall the good man teach his son ; 
 And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by, 
 From this day to the ending of the world, 
 But we in it shall be remembered.' 
 
 K. Sen. v., act iv. sc. 3. 
 On the day of the battle a holy oil flowed like 'drops of sweat' from 
 the shrine at Beverley. 
 
 t St. Robert was the son of a certain Tok Fluore, who had been 
 twice mayor of York, in the latter part of the twelfth' century. He 
 has had three biographers. For all that is known of him see Walbran's 
 Memorials of Fov/ntams, i. 166 (Surtees Society). 
 
OP ENGLAND. 213 
 
 Here he would kneel before the shrine of St. Hugh, in that 
 most graceful and beautiful church which the saint had helped 
 to construct with his own hands. Hugh of Burgundy, Bishop 
 of Lincoln from 1186 to 1200, was canonized by Honorius 
 III. twenty years after his death. No saint in the English 
 calendar received more earnest reverence, and none more 
 entirely deserved it. St. Hugh was one of the noblest 
 bishops of his century. Simple, fearless, indefatigable in his 
 vast diocese, he, although a foreigner, by the sheer, excellence 
 of his life, and his zeal for aU men's rights, was one of those 
 who assisted in welding into one nation the conq.uerors and 
 the conquered of England. A crowd of archbishops and 
 bishops — 'populus abbatum, turba priorum' — assembled at 
 his burial, and the kings of England and of Scotland, who 
 had met by appointment at Lincoln, assisted in. carrying his 
 bier into the cathedral.* 
 
 The Benedictine monasteries of the Fens, of &b more 
 ancient foundation than the Cistercian houses, possessed 
 numerous relics, and were all frequented by pilgrims. The 
 pride of Crowland was the tomb of Waltheo^ beheaded for 
 his share in the 'brideale' of Norwich. Thomey possessed 
 the shrines of St. Benedict Biscop and St. Botolph, At Bamsey 
 was that of St. Felix, the first bishop and the true 'apostle' 
 of East Anglia. There, too was the shrine of the fabulous 
 St. Ivo.f Before the great gateway of 'Peterborough the 
 Proud,' pilgrims of whatever rank put ofiF their shoes^ and 
 then passing through the court and into the churchy they 
 knelt at the altar of St. Peter, and in certain cases received 
 the same full absolution they would have merited by a 
 journey to Eome. But the queen of all this group of auoieat 
 
 * The Magna Vita of St. Hugh (Master of the Rolls' Beries) and 
 a very interesting Metrical Life have been published, with admirable 
 introductions by Mr. Dimock. 
 
 t The story of his ' invention' is told vnjra. 
 
214 THE GBEAT SHBINES 
 
 monasteries was Ely. The shrine of St. Etheldreda, sup- 
 ported by those of her sister abbesses Sexburga and Erme- 
 nilda, was one of the most important and frequented in 
 England. The isle had been hallowed since the latter part of 
 the seventh century, when Etheldreda settled there ; and the 
 cathedral, completed by Alan of Walsingham's matchless 
 octagon, indicates, by its magnificence and its varied archi- 
 tecture, the flow of wealth which century after century set 
 steadily towards Ely. This part of England was, indeed, 
 under especial saintly patronage. The halidom of St. Ethel- 
 dreda marched for some distance with that of St. Edmund, 
 whose shrine at Bury was femous as the greatest resort of 
 pilgrims in East Anglia. 'The sun hath not shone,' writes 
 Leland, ' on a pleasanter position ;' nor, it may be added, on a 
 vaster and more stately monastery. The great church, which 
 in size perhaps equalled Ely, has disappeared almost entirely; 
 but it is still possible to mark the site, of the high altar, before 
 which, and in the presence of the shrine, Archbishop Langton 
 received (Nov. 20th, 1215) the pledges of the barons in arms 
 for the demand of the Great Charter. St, Edmund, King 
 of East Anglia, was defeated and killed by the Northmen in 
 870, in the course of that terrible irruption, during which 
 they plundered all the chief monasteries of Northern and 
 Eastern England, and murdered their inmates. Little is 
 known of him thdt can be regarded as at aU authentic. His 
 legend asserts that he was taken by the heathen invaders near 
 Hoxne, on the Waveney. They bound him to a tree, and made 
 him a mark for their arrows till his body resembled a hedge- 
 hog — 'velut asper hericius, aut spinis hirtus carduus.'* His 
 head was then stricken off and flung into a wood, where it 
 could not be found until his followers, searching for it, and led 
 by a cry of ' Here ! here ! here 1' came on it at length, care- 
 fully guarded between the paws of a wolf, who gave up his 
 * Abbo, Abbot of Fleury, Fita S. Echmmdi, printed in Surius. 
 
OF ENGLAND. 215 
 
 treasure, and then retreated ' with doleful mourning.' Head 
 and body were afterwards brought to Bury. A huge and 
 very ancient oak-tree in Oakley Park, in the parish of 
 Hoxne, was long pointed out by tradition as that to which 
 St. Edmund was bound. It fell in 1849 ; and it is somewhat 
 remarkable that, when the tree was broken up, an arrow-head 
 was found in the heart of it. The severed head of the King, 
 the head guarded by a wolf, and the crown with two arrows 
 in saltire — emblems of the martyrdom of St. Edmund — are 
 constantly found in glass, painting, and sculpture throughout 
 Norfolk and Suffolk. 
 
 From the land of St. Edmund the pilgrim might turn 
 northward, first to Norwich, where the cathedral displayed a 
 single shrine of no great importance — that of St. William the 
 Less, a boy who, like the lesser St. Hugh of Lincoln (who 
 should have been mentioned before), was said to have been 
 killed by the Jews ; and then to a place of far greater fame — 
 to Walsingham, where was the most renowned image of the 
 Virgin in all England. She is the 'Virgo parathalassia' of 
 Erasmus, who, in his colloquy, ' Peregrinatio Religionis 
 ergo,' has given a curious account of the shrine and of the 
 ignorance of its guardians. The shrine and the Priory of 
 Augustinian Canons at Walsingham dated from the twelfth 
 century. The chapel in which the miraculous image stood 
 was, it is said, 'in all respects like unto the Santa Casa of 
 Nazareth and of Loretto.'* Roger Ascham, after visiting 
 Cologne in 1550, declared that the Three Kings were not 
 so rich as the Lady of Walsingham before the Dissolution. 
 Remote as the place was, it attracted a vast crowd of 
 pilgrims, who, on their way to or from it, might visit many 
 
 * The supposed resemblance of this chapel to the Santa Casa must 
 have been an after-thought, since the famous house at Loretto was 
 not heard of until 1291, and the Walsingham chapel was in existence 
 long before. 
 
216 
 
 THE GBEAT SHEINES 
 
 of the lesser shrines and relics in which Norfolk was 
 especially rich : the arm of St. Philip, at Castle Acre ; 
 the rood of Bromholm, a relic from the Imperial Chapel at 
 Constantinople, held to contain a portion of the true cross ; 
 the head of St. John the Baptist, at Trimmingham ; the tomb 
 of St. Walstan, patron of 'all mowers and scythe-followers,' 
 at Bawburgh, near Norwich; or the 'good sword of Winfar-- 
 thing,' a mysterious relic, possessing many virtues, and con- 
 sulted, like a modem white witch, 'for the discovery of things 
 that were lost.'* Many such places of pilgrimage existed in 
 the eastern counties ; but no great shrine would attract the 
 traveller until, on his way to London, he beheld the long 
 ridge of St. Alban's Church stretching across the low rising 
 ground above the stream of the Ver. Here was the shrine 
 of the so-called protomartyr of Britain. The great Benedict- 
 ine abbey, founded by Offa of Mercia in 793, was famous for 
 its wealth, its hospitality, and for its long-continued school of 
 monastic historians. Lying as it did on the main northern 
 highway, it was frequently the resting-place of kings and 
 princes, and many important events have been connected 
 with it. We may still recognize the ' insita species venus- 
 tatis ' which Bede admired on the hill of St. Alban ; and, in 
 spite of some uncertainty, we must continue to believe that 
 the saint here reverenced was an actual personage, f martyred 
 
 * Becbn, in his BeUques of Some, asserts that he had ' many times 
 heard when a child,' that the sword had belonged to a thief, who took 
 sanctuary in the churchyard and afterwards escaped, leaving this relic 
 behind him. Can it have been shown as the sword of St. Gestas, the 
 good thief crucified with our Lord ? Chapels were occasionally dedi- 
 cated to him. 
 
 ■f- The evidence for the existence and martyrdom of St. Alban has 
 been carefully collected by Messrs. Haddan and Stubbs, Covndls, vol. 
 i. p. 5. 'All that seems certain is, that within 125 years after the (Dio- 
 cletian) persecution a belief existed at Yerulamium that a martyr named 
 Albanus lay buried near that town.' — Ibid. The authorities followed 
 by Bede are Gildas and certain ' Acta,' otherwise unknown, 
 
OF ENGLAND. 217 
 
 during the persecution under Diocletian. The authenticity 
 of the relics displayed here is a different question. 
 
 At last the pilgrim reached London. In St. Paul's Cathe- 
 dral, -within the City, he would kneel before the shrine of 
 St. Erkenwald, Bishop of London in the seventh century, 
 whose festiyal was honoured by the presence of all the clergy 
 • of the diocese, wearing their richest copes. But St. Erken- 
 wald could not rival the great shrine of the Confessor at 
 Westminster. The relics of the patron saint of England — 
 the chief patron until, after the Synod of Oxford, in 1220, 
 the martlets of St. Edward gave place to the red cross of 
 
 ' St. George the bright, our Lady's Knight' — 
 
 reposed beneath the stateliest roof in the kingdom, and were 
 surrounded by. the noblest associations. Whatever may have 
 been the failings of the Confessor, the 'baleless king of 
 blithe mood,' there can be no doubt that the strongest Eng- 
 lish feeliag dictated his popular canonization before William 
 landed at Hastings, and long before it was formally decreed 
 by Alexander IIL in 1161. The church in which he was 
 first buried, and which he had himself built, has passed away; 
 but the glories .of the existing church of Westminster are due 
 entirely to the fame of the Confessor, and to the reverence 
 paid to him by the third Henry. 
 
 The shriae of St. Frideswide, in her church at Oxford, 
 might be visited from London ; and, like the company im- 
 mortalized by Chaucer, the pilgrim would proceed — ^it may be 
 from the ' Tabard,' in Southwark — over the hUls and through 
 the green woods of Kent, 
 
 ' The holy blissful mstrtyr for to seek' 
 
 in his resting-place behind the high altar of Canterbury. Of 
 all English shrines this was the best known on the Continent. 
 ' Cantorbifere, la cit^ vaiUante,' took her place with Com- 
 postella and Cologne. No stranger, of whatever rank, who 
 
218 THE GREAT SHE1NE3 
 
 landed at Dover, neglected to kneel before the body of St. 
 
 Thomas. The jewels which hung round it were the offerings 
 
 of kings and princes, and were some of them, singly, rich 
 
 enough 
 
 ' To ransom great kings from captivity.' 
 
 And besides the great shrine, pilgrims who visited Canterbury 
 paid their devotions before the tomb of St. Anselm, and 
 before the supposed relics of St. Alfege — the archbishop 
 murdered by the Danes — and of St. Dunstan. St. Augustine's 
 also, the church and monastery without the gate, would be 
 visited ; and on their way to Canterbury they might reve- 
 rence, at Charing, the block on which the Baptist was 
 beheaded, said to have been brought to England by Richard 
 the Lion-heart. Rochester was a more important resting- 
 place. The cathedral of Western Kent contained the shrines 
 of its primitive bishops, St. Paulinus and St. Ithamar — the 
 latter the first native bishop of the English Church ; besides 
 a tomb more eagerly sought by Canterbury pilgrims, that of 
 St. William of Rochester. He is said to have been a Scottish 
 baker of Perth, who was in the habit of giving every tenth 
 loaf to the poor, and who undertook a pilgrimage to the 
 Holy Land, intending to visit the Canterbury shrine on his 
 way. But on Watling Street, near Chatham, he fell in 
 with thieves, always on the watch for wealthy pilgrims, and 
 his murdered body was brought to Rochester, where it 
 was solemnly interred. St. William was duly canonized in 
 1256. 
 
 There was a certain connection between the great saint of 
 Canterbury and St. Richard of Chichester, bishop of that see 
 in the middle of the thirteenth century. St. Richard was 
 a Dominican, and was the only saint of that order in Eng- 
 land ; but he was also, in Fuller's words, ' a stout Becketist,' 
 and the two saints are sometimes represented together.* 
 
 * They are thus represented in the curious paintings (of Perpen- 
 
OP ENGLAND. 219 
 
 Beyond Chichester, the next ' station ' of the pilgrim- would 
 be Winchester, a 'locus venerabilis,' if there was one in 
 England, yet not marked by any greatly frequented or very 
 important shrine. On a raised platform behind the high altar 
 stood forth the shrines of St. Birinus, converter of Cynegils, 
 the first Christian king of Wessex ; of St. Swithim, the 
 bishop, buried at first, by his own desire, outside the church, 
 ' where passers-by might tread on his grave, and where raia 
 from the eaves might fall on it,' * but afterwards translated ; 
 and of St. Athelwold, builder of the cathedral which was 
 replaced by the Norman structure of Bishop Walkelin. But 
 to the shrines of these sainted bishops was due but a small 
 portion of the glory which rested on Winchester. Old Eng- 
 lish memories were crowded round her. The remains of 
 many kings lay in the cathedral, including those of Cnut, 
 whose golden crown rested on the head of the great image of 
 the Saviour in front of the altar. In the 'new minster' was 
 interred the best and most perfect of all English rulers — 
 Alfred the Great; and the long succession of princely pre- 
 lates who in later ages filled the see, and have left enduring 
 memorials of their splendour and magnificence, maintained 
 and increased the renown of the ancient capital. Salisbury, 
 a cathedral of much more recent foundation, possessed no 
 canonized saint imtil so late as the year 1456, when St. 
 Osmund was so honoured by Pope Calixtus III., the first of 
 the Borgias. But Osmund had long been reverenced as a 
 saint in his own church. He was the first Norman bishop of 
 
 diculax date) on the tomb of John Wootton, in Maidstone Church 
 Kent. At West Tarring, in Sussex, where was an ancient palace of 
 the bishops of Chichester, are the remains 'of a fig orchard, said to 
 have been planted partly by St. Richard, partly by Becket. 
 
 * W. Malmes, De Oestis Pontiflcvm,, p. 242. It may have been this 
 direction that gave St. Swithun his reputation as a weather saint. 
 Tradition asserts, however, that the removal of his relics from his 
 grave to the golden shrine prepared for them was prevented by forty 
 days of continued rain. 
 
220 THE GEEAT SHKINES 
 
 the see, and the compiler of the famous Ordinal ' for the nse 
 of Sarum.' He died in 1099, and was buried in the old 
 cathedral ; but on the removal from Old Sarum to Salisbury 
 his remains were conveyed to the new site. 
 
 The great minsters which lie west and south of Salisbury 
 seem each to have possessed its saint. In Wimborne was the 
 tomb of Ethelred, elder brother of King Alfred, who, chiefly 
 from his brave struggles with the heathen Danes, was looked 
 upon as a saint and martyr. At Shaftesbury lay Edward 
 the * martyr, ' killed at Corfe ' by order,' as it is asserted, of 
 his stepmother, Elfrida, and distinctly recognized as a saint ; 
 and at Sherborne were buried some of the earlier kings of 
 Wessex. But the saint who should have been the glory of 
 Sherborne, Aldhelm, the first and greatest bishop of the see, 
 was interred in the Abbey Church of Malmesbury ; which 
 also boasted of, and stiU shows, the tomb of the ' gloriosus rex' 
 Athelstan. 
 
 The circuit of the chief shrines is thus completed. Their 
 strong national character is sufficiently evident. By far the 
 greater number of English saints belong to the period before 
 the Norman Conquest, and for the most part to those early 
 days when Christianity was in actiye combat with heathenism. 
 The first Christian teachers in each English kingdom, in- 
 cluding St. Augustine and his followers, are in almost all 
 cases recognized as saints; but theirs were not always the 
 shrines which afterwards became the most important. The 
 first Christian teachers, Augustine, Birinus, Felix, were 
 strangers ; so, though in a somewhat less degree, were Aidan 
 and the first Northumbrian bishops. English reverence and 
 religious feeling were not so greatly moved by them as by the 
 primitive saints of home birth, St. Cuthbert, St. Edmund, 
 St. Etheldreda, or St. Chad. Such shrines as these formed 
 sacred centres in each ancient kingdom : St, Cuthbert for 
 Northumbria, St. Edmund for East Anglia, St. Etheldreda 
 
OF ENGLAND. 
 
 221 
 
 and St. Frideswide for South-eastern Mercia, and St. Chad 
 for the north of that kingdom. Kent, besides St. Augustine 
 and St. Paulinus, possessed the relics of many sainted bishops; 
 but her lesser shrines were entirely eclipsed by the glory 
 which in later days gathered round that of St. Thomas. It 
 is somewhat remarkable that Wessex possessed- no great 
 shrine, for we can hardly place that of St. Swithun at Win- 
 chester in the foremost rank. But in this kingdom, and 
 especially after it became dominant, there was a marked ten- 
 dency to confer saintly honours on its royal race. Edgar 
 the ' peaceful,' Edward the ' martyr,' (at Shaftesbury,) and 
 Ethelred, elder brother of Alfred, (at Wimborne,) were all so 
 recognized, Athelstan was not so honoured ; and we can 
 only wonder, without being able to explain how it came to 
 pass, that the king whose character, as has been truly said, is 
 the most perfect in history — ^the great Alfred — a better king 
 and a nobler man than the sainted Lewis of France,* was 
 never proclaimed a saint by popular acclamation. His should 
 have been the great shrine of Wessex, a shrine before which 
 all Englishmen might have knelt with fe,r deeper feeling than 
 could ever have been inspired by that of the Confessor at 
 Westminster. That royal saint, indeed, belongs to a period 
 when the old divisions of England had altogether changed 
 character, and were gradually disappearing ; a change which 
 brought about a more widespread reputation for the principal 
 shrines. They became centres of national life rather than 
 of that provincial life to which they first belonged ; and 
 although each district was always proudest of its own saint, 
 it was the splendour of the entire constellation that gave 
 to this country her ancient reputation as a land of saints — 
 ' insula sanctorum.' 
 
 The early date of the principal English saints is marked 
 by the fact that, although great Benedictine abbeys were in 
 * See Freeman's Normcm Conquest, i. pp. 50 — 55. 
 
222 THE GEEAT SHEINES 
 
 many instances the guardians of their shrines, St. Wulfstan 
 at Worcester, St. Swithun at Winchester, and St. Dunstan, 
 alone belpng to that order ; so that of the fifty thousand 
 saints claimed by the Benedictines, England contributes but 
 three of the greater rank. The Benedictine abbeys at Ely 
 and at Durham grew up round the tombs of the earlier saints. 
 Many of the greater churches, distinguished by saintly shrines, 
 became in fact the property of the Benedictines during the 
 struggle between regulars and seculars, when the former 
 frequently took the place of the latter. The Cistercians, 
 whose reform dates from the end of the eleventh century? 
 could boast of no great shrine. 
 
 And now, what is a shrine ? The question is not an idle 
 one, since but scanty portions remain of any English shrine, 
 and of nearly all those on the Continent the position and 
 accessories have been much changed since the period of their 
 greatest splendour. From a comparison of the greater 
 foreign shrines, however, with the relics of our own, we are 
 enabled to picture to ourselves with tolerable clearness the 
 ancient appearance of such important shrines as those of the 
 Confessor, of St. Cuthbert, or of St. Thomas. 
 
 The passion for the possession of relics, and in especial for 
 that of the bodies, of saints, had been fully developed long 
 before the arrival of St. Augustine in this country. But 
 all the earlier English saints, however they may have been 
 reverenced during their lifetime, were buried 'in peace,' in 
 accordance with the primitive custom of the Church, which 
 erected her ' martyria ' above the graves of those who had 
 suffered for the faith. As the reputation of each saint in- 
 creased, it became the custom to raise the body from the 
 grave 'in which it had been first laid, and (if it had not 
 already been buried within the walls) to bring it into the 
 church, where it was placed in a tomb prepared for it above 
 ground, generally near the altar. We have distinct evidence 
 
OF ENGLAND. 223 
 
 that this was done in the cases of St. Etheldreda and 
 St. Cuthbert. Sixteen years after the death of Etheldreda, 
 her sister, Sexburga, raised her body — which, like that of so 
 many other saints, is said to have been found incorrupt — and 
 placed it in a Roman sarcophagus of white marble, found 
 among the ruins of ancient Granchester, near Cambridge. 
 The sarcophagus, which Bede teUs us fitted the body of the 
 virgin as though it had been made for it, was then conveyed 
 into the church, open to the sight and to the reverence of all.* 
 St. Cuthbert, after his death in his solitary island, was 
 brought to Lindisfarne, and buried in a stone coffin within 
 the church. Eleven years later the monks raised him, and 
 placed his body ' dignae venerationis gratiS, ' in a coffin above 
 the pavement, t From these actual tombs the remains were 
 in most cases again translated into costly shrines (' scrinia ') or 
 repositories, plated with gold and silver, and for the most part 
 moveable, so that they could be carried in procession. The 
 use of such shrines was common before the eleventh century, 
 though rather perhaps for the preservation of such relics aa 
 were of lesser size. The greatest zeal for their fabrication, 
 and for the translation of the remains of saints to the place of 
 greatest honour in their churches, was displayed during the 
 twelfth and thirteenth centuries; and it was then that the 
 shrine assumed its most imposing form and proportion. An 
 Enghsh shrine of the first class — and those on the Continent 
 differed but little — consisted of at least four distinct parts : } 
 (1) the stone basement ; (2) the altar at the -west end of it, 
 dedicated to the saint; (3) the actual shrine or case containing 
 
 * Bede, Hist. Eccles., I. iv. o. 19. 
 
 + ' Et involutum novo amictu corpus, levique in theca reconditum, 
 super pavimentum sanctuarii composuerunt.' — Beda, Vita S. Cvdbereti, 
 cap. xlii. 
 
 I These divisions have been pointed out by Mr. Burges, in his 
 paper on the Shrine of the Confessor, Gleammgs from Westmmster 
 Abbey, p. 127. 
 
224 THE GEEAT SHEINES 
 
 the body, properly called, where it was moveable, the ' fere- 
 trum '* (on this the greatest cost and treasure were expended, 
 and to it were attached the jewels and most precious offerings 
 made to the saint); (4) the cooper culum,t or wooden covering, 
 often painted and much enriched, vnth which the ' feretrum ' 
 was protected on ordinary occasions, and which was suspended 
 from the vaulted roof by ropes. The whole structure, often 
 raised, as at Durham, on a wide platform, was thus of consi- 
 derable size and height ; and, placed as it usually was at the 
 back of the high altar, it towered above the reredos dividing 
 the presbytery from the retro-choir, and was by far the most 
 conspicuous object in the church. 
 
 The basement on which the ' feretrum ' rested may be said 
 to represent in some sort the tomb from which the relics of 
 the saint were removed to be enshrined. In some cases the 
 tomb itself may have been used as a basement. The base- 
 ment of the Confessor's shrine at Westminster remains almost 
 perfect ; that of St. Thomas of Cantilupe, at Hereford, is still 
 uninjured ; and the singular base of St. David's shrine retains 
 its ancient position in his remote cathedral. With the excep- 
 tion of some fragments of St. Werburga's shrine at Chester, 
 these were the only portions of any English shrine known to 
 exist until the beginning of the year 1872, when, during the 
 restoration of the great Abbey church, portions of the base of 
 the shrine of St. Alban were discovered, built up in walls 
 
 * The word ' feretrum ' is used for a carriage or conveyance of any 
 sort. Bede {H. E., 1. iv. c. 6) mentions the ' feretrum caballarium,' 
 the horse car or litter, in which Earconwald, Bishop of London, used 
 to travel — ' quo infirmus vehi solebat.' It gradually came to be used 
 almost exclusively for the moveable shrine of a saint. The word is 
 constantly confounded with 'feretory,' which means the place where 
 the ' feretrum' was deposited. 
 
 t Mr. Burges uses the word 'cooperculum' to distinguish the covering 
 of the shrine from a ' coopertorium,' or flat wooden canopy, such as 
 appears above the tomb of Richard II. at Westminster. 'Coopertura' 
 sometimes signifies the plating (' lamina') of- the shrine.— Matt. Paris, 
 ntcR S. Albcmi Ahbatwm, p. 1010 (ed. Wats.). 
 
OF ENGLAND. 225 
 
 which, since the reign of Edward VI., had divided the Laxly 
 Chapel from the retro-choir. The actual ' feretra,' with thieir 
 gold and jewels, disappeared, of course, in the sixteenth 
 century ; and during the changes which then occurred the 
 ornamental stonework was almost universally destroyed. 
 There is no trace of the basement of St. Thomas's shrine at 
 Canterbury, nor of that of St. Cuthbert at Durham. But they 
 greatly resembled the existing base at Westminster. This dates 
 from the reign of Henry III., and supported the shrine made 
 for the Confessor's relics on their translation in 1269. It is 
 of Purbeck marble, enriched with glass mosaic, the work, as 
 an inscription records, of a certain Peter, 'civis Romanus.' 
 On the north and south sides are three trefoil-headed niches, 
 the backs of which were filled in with mosaic, so as to resem- 
 ble windows of stained glass. They are of some height and 
 depth, and sick persons were sometimes allowed to remain in 
 them all night, in hope of obtaining a miraculous cure, espe- 
 cially of the 'king's evil.'* The recovered base of St. Alban's 
 shrine is of somewhat similar character. It is of Purbeck 
 marble, about .9 feet long by 4 broad, and rising, in two 
 stories, to a height of about 8 feet. The longer sides, below, 
 were pierced with four niches, the shorter with two. The 
 upper story was formed by rich canopied niches. Marble 
 steps, on which the shrine was elevated, have also, been found, 
 and are much worn by the knees of pilgrims. There were 
 open arches in the base of the Canterbury shrine; and at 
 -Durham the base, given by the lord Neville about 1380, was 
 ' of fine and costly green marble, all lined and gilt with gold, 
 
 » If the illiuninations in the ii/e of St. Edward, in the Cambridge 
 University Library, represent (as is most probable) the shrine as it 
 appeared after the translation in 1269, it woidd seem that the base 
 yraa at first (though it can only have been for a very short time) 
 different from that which now exists. In one of these drawings, 
 engraved for Mr. Burges's paper, there is a circular hole in the base 
 of the shrine, through which a sick person is creeping. 
 
 15 
 
226 THE GEEAT SHEINES 
 
 having four seats or places convenient underneath the shrine, 
 for the pilgrims or lame men sitting on their knees to lean or 
 rest on in the time of their devout offering.'* At St. David'sj 
 in front and at the back of the basement (which resembles a 
 stone altar tomb, filling the space between two piers of the 
 presbytery) are small foiled openings with a hollow at the 
 back, in which offerings might be placed by the pilgrims. In 
 all cases a close contact with the shrine — the resting of the 
 body in one of the lower niches, or at least the placing withia 
 it of some diseased limb — ^was regarded as a high privilege, 
 and, as was then beheved, was frequently attended by some 
 special favour from the saint. On the Continent, and it 
 would seem at some places in England, a superstition far 
 more ancient than Christianity was connected with these 
 openings and recesses in the saint's tomb. The tomb or 
 shrine of St, Dizier in Alsace is a hollowed monolith of tlie 
 twelfth ceirtury, in form of a small cell, with a ridged roof. 
 On either side is an arched opening, through which insane 
 persons were made to creep, in hope of effecting a cure. A 
 similar ceremony at the tomb of St. Menoux in Auvergne 
 cured the- headache.f The tomb of St. Arnould, near Beauvais, 
 has circular holes in the sides, used by sick persons with the 
 same object.^ We may fairly regard as belonging to this 
 species of ' folk-lore ^ the passage of ' St. Wilfrid's needle ' in 
 the crypt at Eipon, which was held to be a test of continence ; 
 
 * DeseripVion or briefe Declaration of all y^ avmtient Monwments 
 Bites cmd Customs belonging to the Monasticall Church of Durham 
 hefore i/« Suppression, writtten i/a 1593 ; first published in 1672. 
 
 t Didron, Awnales ArchMogigms, xviii. 15. — At St. Dizier, after 
 creeping through the openings, the patients were plunged into a stream 
 of water running through the village. In some cases, according to 
 M. VioUet-le-Duo {Diet, de I'ArcJdt. Framgaise, viii. p. 36), a reliquary 
 was fixed between the ' retable ' of the altar and the chancel wall, and 
 the sick person was made to pass beneath it. 
 
 X A notice of this tomb, as illustrating the Confessor's Shrine, is 
 given in Gleanmgs from Westmmster Abbey, p. 137. 
 
OP ENGLAND. 227 
 
 and the Cornish ' holed stones,' through which the sick are 
 still made to creep, carry ns back no doubt to the heathen 
 period, though we need not insist, with Borlase, on pressing 
 the Druids into the service. 
 
 The ' feretrum ' or shrine containing the relics, which stood 
 on this stone basement, was generally, when of great size, of 
 wood covered with a plating of precious metal ; but was 
 sometimes entirely of gold or silver. It has been already 
 said that the twelfth and thirteenth centuries are the periods 
 in which these shrines attained their greatest .magnificence; 
 but they had long before called forth the choicest art of the 
 goldsmith and enameller. The earliest are no doubt Byzan- 
 tine, and are rather reliquaries than shrines. Such reliquaries 
 were sometimes made in the form of the portion of the body 
 they contained — a head, an arm, or a foat ; but they more 
 generally resembled some part of a ehuich — as a flfeche, a 
 toureUe, a portal, or a dome. In the latter form are twelve 
 Uttle reliquaries in the Convent of St. Paul on. Mount Athos, 
 made, it is asserted, from the gold offered to> our Lord by the 
 wise men, and containing mingled grains of frankincense and 
 myrrh — also part of their offerings. These are said to have 
 been the gift of Constantine the Great.* Reliquaries like 
 these are to the greater shrines much what a chapel or chantry 
 is to a church. Many of the most ancient shrines on the 
 Continent were destroyed in the revoluticmary fary of the 
 last century ; but some of considerable antiquity still exist, 
 and show clearly what was the primitive type. They are 
 almost always in the form of a church — varying in character, 
 
 * Didron, Bronnes et OrfSwerie du Moyen Age, Ann. ArMol. xix. 
 Mr. Tozer {HigMomds of Turkey) describes a shrine of much later 
 date in the monastery of St. Dionysius on Mount Athos, shaped like 
 a Byzantine church, sUver-gilt, with five domes of gold. The windows 
 are enriched with a singular open-work tracery, and at the sides and 
 ends are recesses, with portraits of saints in nieUo. It contains the 
 arm of St. Niphon. 
 
228 THE GEEAT SHEINES 
 
 of course, with their date. Under arcades lining the sides are 
 figures of the Apostles ; at the eastern end is the Saviour ; 
 and at the west, where was the opening by which the relics 
 were introduced, was either St. Peter with his keys, or the 
 saint of the shrine himself. Thus the shrine, like the church 
 in which it stood, represented the heavenly city, — St. Peter or 
 the local saint acting as 'janitor coeh.' Many such shrines 
 still exist in the Limousin, and have been described by 
 M. Didron.* The metal shrine of St. Gertrude at Nivelles, 
 dating from the end of the thirteenth century, is a precise 
 fac simile of a chuTch of that time, with a triple western portal, 
 windows, and a three-aisled nave. The shrine which con- 
 tained the famous relics of the Sainte-Chapelle is a miniature 
 of the chapel -itself. ,Aq ivory shrine in the Mus^e d'Anti- 
 quit^s at -Brussels, of the twelfth -century, curiously repro- 
 duces the Romanesque Rhine church of that date, with its 
 two small eastern and two western towers. The shrine of 
 St. Eleutherius in the Cathedral at Tournay was constructed 
 about 1247, at which time the saint was translated into the 
 newly built choir, where the shrine now stands. This is one 
 of the -finest of the earlier shrines existing ; and its preserva-- 
 tion through -the troubles of 1566 and 1793 is little short of 
 a miracle. It is of gold filigrain, encrusted with precious 
 stones and enamels. In the arcade around it are figures of 
 saints and Apostles, and at^the ends those of the Saviour and 
 St. Eleutherius.^ This great shrine- is in the shape of a small 
 church, but without tower or flfeche ; and this was the form 
 
 * Awnales Archiqlogiques, t. xix. 
 
 t Ann. ArcMol. t. xiii. The character of the figures, says M. Didron, 
 is rather Roman of the Lower Empire than Gothic. The shrine itself 
 is distinctly Gothic (ogivale). Tournay was in the Archdiocese of 
 Rheims, and the figures on the western portal of the Cathedral at 
 Rheims strongly resemble those of the shrine. ' II y a Ik, comme h 
 Toumai, une reminiscence, une imitation flagrante, de la sculpture 
 romaine du bas Empire.' The figures on shrines constantly resemble, 
 in every detail, the sculptures in contemporary churches. 
 
OP ENGLAND. 229 
 
 whicli the largest and most important shrines finally took, and 
 ■which was, as we know from descriptions, that of the great 
 shrines at Canterbury, at Durham, and at St. Alban's — the last 
 of which, however, rose at the angles into turrets of open work.* 
 These shrines exceeded the earlier in richness, though hardly 
 in artistic beauty and skiU. f We cannot estimate the value 
 of the jewels cramped and fastened to the sides of Becket's 
 shrine, or to that of St. Cuthbert. The treasures of the 
 
 * The St. Alban's shrine was in some respects vesy. remarkable. 
 There were, in fact, two shrines — an, outer and inner — ^besides the 
 ' coopercTilum,' both of which were highly enriched. "The two shrines 
 stood on the base just discovered. The first, or inner shrine, was 
 made at the time of Abbot GeoflSy (1119 — 1146), by a monk called 
 AnketU. It was of gold, set with gems and enamel. ' Eecit autem 
 Ulud opere ductiU, et elevato, et edujito, imagines . impulit elevari, et 
 concavas caemento solidavit, et elegantiam totius corporis f eretraUs in 
 brevius culmen ascendendo coartavit ' (Matt. Paris, Vit. Abbot, p. 
 1010). One of the stones brought from the treasury of the convent to 
 be used was an ancient onys; (' sardius onicleus ') ; but as this stone 
 was of great service to women in childbed, it was not inserted in the 
 shrine, lest any of its virtue should thereby be lost. Abbot Simon 
 (1166 — 1188) caused the outer shrine to be constructed, ' per manum 
 prseceUentissimi artificis Magistri Johannis aurifabri.'' At the west 
 end (which fronted the high altar) was represented the martyrdom of 
 St. Alban and (apparently above it) the Virgin and Child. At the 
 east was the crucified Saviour between St. Mary and St. John. Kound 
 the shrine were subjects from the legendary life of St. Alban, — 
 'eminentibus imaginibus de argento et auro, opere propulsato (quod 
 vulgariter levatura dioitur).' The shrine rose to a crest — ' in crispam 
 et artificiosam cristam consurgit.' 'In quatuor angulis turribus 
 fenestratis, tholis crystallinis cum suis mirabilibus, quadratur venusta.' 
 In this shrine, which was of great, size, Abbot Geoflfry's 'theca' — -- 
 ' ipsius martyris theca, quse quasi ejus conqlaye est, et in qua ipsiu?. 
 secreta ossa recondi dignoscuntur ' — was enclosed (M. Paris, p. 1037, 
 ed. Wats). The inner shrine, therefore, represented at St. Alban's- 
 the ancient cofBns of wood,_ in which St. Edmund, and St. Cuthbeiji 
 reposed in their respective shrines. Probably the fact th^t the bodies 
 of the latter saints were held to be incorrupt, while only the bones of 
 St. Alban were preserved, .accounts for the different treatment. 
 
 t To this later time belong the shrines of St. Bemigius at Bheims, 
 and of St. Ferdinand at Seville ; which, as Dean Stanley has pointed 
 out, of all which now exist, are perhaps those which moat nearly 
 resemble the final appearance of the great English shrines. 
 
230 THE GBBAT SHEINES 
 
 Three Kings of Cologne are said (allowance must doubtless 
 be made for much exaggeration) to be worth six millions of 
 francs — £240,000. They can have been little added to since 
 the sixteenth century ; and if Ascham was right in asserting 
 that 'Our Xady of Walsingham ' was richer, we may form 
 some faint idea ©f the enormous wealth Miciently displayed 
 round the great shrines of England, 
 
 The cooperculum or covering of the shrine became neces- 
 sary, not only for the protection of the precious work and 
 jewels from occasional injury, but also as a defence against 
 thieves ; for the Northmen of the tenth century were by no 
 means the only persons who looked with longing eyes to- 
 ward the treasures of great churches and their shrines. In 
 the year 1086, the shrine of St. David was stolen from the 
 church, carried out of the ' dinas ' or city, and there spoiled 
 of all its .gold and silver;* At a later period the head of 
 St. Hugh -of Lincoln, which was kept in a reliquary apart 
 from the body, was stolen. The gold and jeyy^els were stripped 
 from the case, and the head was flung into a field, where it 
 was watched by a faithful crow until discovered by its proper 
 guardians, t This occurred in ,1364, when, according to 
 Knighton, there were many similar robberies .©f shrines and 
 relics, and many of the thieves were taken and hanged. 
 These were thefts on a large scale : but smaller losses were 
 not infrequent ; and one case is recorded of an apparent 
 worshipper who, seeming to kiss the jewels on a certain 
 shrine, managed to detach them and carry them off in her 
 mouth. Much care, in fact, was necessary for the protec- 
 tion of the shrine and its treasures. One of the monks or 
 canons of the church was always shrine-keeper, with others 
 under him, whose duty it was to watch night and day, for 
 
 * Freeman and Jones's St. Ikmd's, p. 104. The relics were either 
 not stolen, or were recovered, 
 .t Knighton, ap. Twysden, x. Script.. 2628. 
 
OF ENGLAND. 231 
 
 which purpose a ' watching-ehamber ' was constructed near 
 the shrine, either forming a portion of the church itself, or a 
 wooden enclosure, sometimes much enriched. The Canter- 
 bury shrine, on extraordinary occasions, was guarded by a 
 troop of fierce dogs ;* and it is possible that the service of 
 such protectors was in general use. They still (or, at least, 
 such was very recently the case) are the chief shrine-keepers 
 in the Church of St. Anthony at Padua, exceedingly rich in 
 works of art, though the Dalmatian dogs who protect it could 
 not prevent the spoliation of the gold and gems of the shrine 
 in 1797. Two of these dogs keep constant watch; and Valery 
 tells the story of a servant of the Sografi, who, absorbed 
 in prayer before the shrine, did not observe the closing of the 
 church doors. The dogs placed themselves one on either side 
 of him, and would not allow him to stir xmtil the morning.f 
 
 In England, and very generally on the Continent, the 
 usual position of a great shrine was at the back of the high 
 altar, between that and the eastern end of the church.^ It is 
 probable, as has been suggested, that this part of the church 
 was chosen as being the most sacred, and the most remote 
 from the nave open to aU w.orshippers.| It is always the 
 position ftf the Lady Chapel in churches which possessed aio 
 
 * Ellis, Orig. Letters, Ser. iii vol. iii. p. 164. 
 
 f Voyage en ItaMe, i. ^12. 
 
 X The great shrine of St. Alban was at first placed above the Mgh 
 altar. ' Et loco suo eminentiori, scilicet supra Majus Altare, contra 
 frontem celebrantis, uoilocavit ; ut in facie et in corde habeat quilibet 
 oelebrans missam supra idem Altare Martyris memoriam.' (M. Paris, 
 p; 1037.) The west end of the shrine, with the martyrdom soulptured 
 on it, was in front of the celebrant. This is the position (in a sort of 
 niche above the high altar) stiU occupied by the shrine of St. Rumold 
 at Mechlin, and by some other continental shrines. The shrine of 
 St. Edmund at Bury seems at first to have been thus placed. But 
 both that and St. Alban's shrine were afterwards removed, and stood 
 alone (so that it was possible to pass quite round them) in the retro- 
 choir. 
 
 § Stanley, Sist. Mem, p. 188. The Crusades had probably much to 
 do with the increasing reverence for the east,. 
 
232- THE GEEAT SHEISES 
 
 great saint 5 and the fact that an eastern Lady Chapel existed 
 at Chichester and at Hereford, before the canonization of 
 St. Richard, and St. Thomas of Cantilupe, accounts for the 
 position, of their shrines — ^the former- in the south, the latter 
 in the northj transept of their cathedrals. On the other hand, 
 the existence of an important shrine sometimes rendered 
 necessary an unusual position, for the Lady Chapel. At 
 Ely, the place of greatest honour had been assigned to St. 
 Etheldreda and her sisters ; and Alan of Walsingham was 
 compelled to project his beautiful chapel from the north 
 transept. At Durham, the Gralilee at the extreme west end 
 of the church served as the Lady Chapel, a previous attempt 
 Ito. construct it at the east end having failed — 'a manifest 
 sign,' says the chronicler, ' that the work was not acceptable 
 ;to God, or to His servant St. Cuthbert.'* St. Cuthbert, it 
 need hardly be said, sternly forbade the presence of women at 
 his shrine, or within his church beyond a certain mark ; and 
 the western Gtalilee was far enough removed to allow of their 
 entering it. The ground around every shrine was in an 
 especial manner hallowed. At first no burial, even of the 
 greatest personages, was permitted near it. At Durham, 
 indeed, for some centuries, no interment was allowed within 
 the walls of the church. Bishop William of St. Carileph, 
 founder of the great Norman Cathedral, would not give leave 
 for his owji, burial in iSe midst of the work which he had so 
 bobly begUBrj saying that it was unmeet -Jbr any ordinary- 
 corpse to be brought into the presence of the incorrupt 
 St. Cuthbert. It was not until the beginning of the four- 
 teenth century that the ancient rule was broken 5 when the 
 first to be buried in the cathedral, and at no great distance 
 from the shrine, was the great prelate Anthony Bek — ' the 
 proudest lord ia Chrestientie ' — Prince Bishop of Durham, 
 Patriarch of Jerusalem, and King of the Isle of Man. Even 
 * Gaufridus de Coldinghaia, cap. T. — Ang. Sac. i. p. 722. 
 
01" ENGLAND. 233 
 
 the body of this * mighty clerk ' was not broxight through the 
 church, but was conveyed to its resting-place through a door 
 on the north side of the 'niue altars,' where it lies. One 
 other bishop, the learned' Eichard* of Bury, was buried there j 
 but no stately monumpnt marked the grave either of him or 
 of Anthony Bek. It was not apparently thought fit that 
 any ordinary sepulchral magnificence should be displayed so 
 near the shrine. At Canterbury the Black Prince was the 
 first personage deemed worthy to. rest near the shrine of 
 St. Thomas. 
 
 In almost every case the translation of the saint to the 
 shrine in which he finally rested was preceded by the re- 
 building of the eastern portion of his church. This was 
 frequently rendered possible by the ofierings made at the 
 saint's tomb before his translation. The translation itself 
 was, in &e more impertant cases, a ceremony of the utmost 
 grandeur and solemnity. None can have surpassed that of 
 St. Eemigius in 1049, when his shrine was conveyed into the 
 new church prepared for it in the presence of the Pope, 
 Leo IX., who Mmself for a time supported it, and in that of 
 the bishops and abbots assembled at the Council of Eheims ; 
 but it is probable that few more striking displays of magnifi- 
 cence have ever been witnessed in England than those which 
 attended the translation of Becket at Canterbury in 1220, 
 or of the Confessor in 1269. At Canterbury, King Henry 
 ' the young child' was present j and the primates of England 
 and of France, with sundry great lords, assisted in bearing 
 the chest with the precious relics to the shrine prepared for it. 
 All comers were entertained by the convent. The streets 
 ran with wine ; and all the surrounding villages were filled — 
 
 ' Of bishops and abbots, parsons and priors, 
 Of earls and barons, and of many knights thereto ; 
 Of sergeants and of squires, and of husbandmen enow. 
 And of simple men eke of the land, — so thick thither drew.' 
 
234 THE GEEAT SHEINES 
 
 The same King Heniy — but then within three years of his 
 death — assisted at the translation of the Confessor's relics to 
 their shrine in the unrivalled church which he had prepared 
 for them. The cost of such great festivals was enormous ; 
 and we are told that the expenses of Becket's translation 
 were hardly paid off by the fourth successor of Archbishop 
 Stephen Langton. Yet in two remarkable instances the whole 
 cost of a great translation was defrayed by a single prelate. 
 In 1280, Thomas Bek, consecrated on the same day to the 
 bishopric of St. David's, took on himself the entire charge of 
 the translation of St. Hugh of Lincoln to his shrine in the 
 new 'Angel Choir,' in the presence of Edward I. and his 
 queen, besides a host of princes, bishops, and knights. His 
 brother, the famous Antony, three years later, on the day of 
 his own consecration in York Minster to the see of Durham, 
 translated the relics of St. William of York, also in the 
 presence of Edward I. and Queen Eleanor, to a magnificent 
 shrine, which, with the whole cost of the festival, was the gift 
 of this most splendid prelate. Advantage was sometimes 
 taken of the translation to examine the saintly relics. Of 
 such examinations we have happily two very interesting and 
 full descriptions, one of the body of St. Edmund at Bury in 
 1198, the other of that of St. Cuthbert in 1104. From them 
 we gather much collateral information relating to the shrines. 
 The Chronicle of Jocelin of Brakelond, monk of Bury, 
 from 1173 to 1202, affords without doubt the most curious 
 existing picture of old monastic life, with all its jealousies, 
 its difficulties, and its gossip. Jocelin tells us that in the year 
 1198 the 'glorious martyr Edmund' thought fit to alarm 
 the convent, and to teach it the more careful keeping of his 
 body. This had been translated by the first Norman abbot in 
 1095, but the coffin or inner ' theca ' was not then opened. 
 In 1198 it occupied probably the position to which it had 
 been removed a century before.. Between the shrine and the 
 
OF ENGLAND. 235 
 
 high altar was a table on which two large waxen torches were 
 constantly burning. On the vigil of St. Etheldreda, whilst 
 the guardians of the shrine were asleep, a part of one of these 
 torches fell, and set fire to the table. When the monks were 
 at last roused, they found the whole shrine wrapped in flames, 
 which they only extinguished with difficulty. Much of the 
 woodwork of the shrine was burnt, and the silver plates which 
 covered it scarcely hung together. Only the golden Majesty 
 (a figure of our Lord) in front of the shrine, with the jewels 
 set in it, remained unharmed and ' fairer after the fire.' The 
 brethren feared at first that the ' cup of St. Edmund ' had 
 been destroyed ; but although its oaken case was entirely 
 consumed, the cup itself was found unharmed amid the 
 rubbish.* Happily, says Jocehn, the great beam behi«d 
 (ultra) the high altar had been removed to be recarved.f On 
 this beam were placed the rood with Mary and John, a chest 
 containing the shirt (' camisia ') of St. Edmund, and many 
 other relics, some of them suspended from the beam in small 
 ' arks.' These of course escaped. Abbot Samson, absent at 
 the time, returned to the monastery in great haste and grief ; 
 and told his monks in full chapter that this calamity had 
 happened ' for their sins,' and especially because of their 
 'murmurings touching meat and drink.' He gave himself 
 fifteen golden rings ('anuli') towards replating the shrine» 
 
 * Water from the cup of St. Edmund was held to be of great service 
 in all diseases of cattle. — ^Yates, Hist, of Bury St. Edhrvmids. 
 
 f ' Contigit etiam, volente Altissimo, tunc temporis magnam trabem 
 quas sblebat esse ultra altare sublatam esse, ut nova sculptura repara- 
 retur.' — J. de BraMlonda, p. 79. There was a similar beam at St. 
 Alban's : 'Abbas GuUelmus .... quasdam structuras nobilissimas 
 circa majus altare construxit : cum quadam trabe, Historiam Sancti 
 Albani reprsesentante, quae totam iUam artificiosam machinam [appa- 
 rently the high altar with the shrine is thus indicated] supereminet. 
 •Quod qmdem opus splendidisBunum magister Walterus de Colecestria, 
 non sine magno studio laborioso et labore studioso ... perfecit.' — 
 M.. Paris, Vit. Abbot, p. 1055. 
 
236 THE GBEAT SHBINES 
 
 and proposed that the convent, for the same end, should 
 resign their 'pittances ' — or extra dishes — for one year. The 
 convent agreed ; but the sacrist afterwards discovered that 
 
 St. Edmund could well repair his shrine without any such 
 aid,' and the monks were accordingly spared this unusual 
 
 mortification.' 
 
 The abbot had before the fire been preparing for the eleva- 
 tion and enrichment of the shrine. Marble shafts for sup- 
 porting a new base were already polished, and the work was 
 now hastened. In the meantime it was determined to remove 
 the shrine, and to place it temporarily on the high altar. 
 Even such a removal as this called for much solemn prepa- 
 ration. The abbot, on the Sunday after the 'feast of St. 
 Edmund (Nov. 20), proclaimed a three days' fast ; and when 
 the monks assembled in the church that night for lauds, they 
 found a new shrine standing on the altar, covered on the 
 outside with white deer skins, fastened with nails of silver. 
 The saint himself was reposing in his usual place. When lauds 
 had been sung, the monks all received ' discipline.' Then the 
 abbot and his attendants, clad in albs, reverently approached 
 the 'loculus' or chest* in which the body of St. Edmund was 
 resting, and removed from ik- the linen and silken wrappers 
 with which it was covered. When the chest appeared, it was 
 seen that an angel of gold, about a foot in length, with a sword 
 in one hand and a banner in the other, was fastened on the 
 outside, above the breast of the body. Over it were the 
 words — 
 
 ' Martiris ecce zoma servat Michaelis agalma ; ' 
 
 and below was an opening in the lid of the chest, through 
 which former guardians used to put their hands so that they 
 might touch the holy body. The chest was then raised, borne 
 
 * This 'loculus' was placed within the shrine, like the co£Sns of 
 St. Cuthbert at Durham. At St. Alban's the loculus was really an 
 nner shrine, (See ante.) 
 
OP ENGLAND. 237 
 
 to the altar, and enclosed in the shrine. ' I helped to support 
 it,' says Jocelin, ' with my sinful hand, though the abbot had 
 ordered no one to approach unless called for.' 
 
 And now came a great disappointment to the monks. They 
 thought that the abbot would have exhibited the chest to the 
 people, and perhaps have opened it in the sight of the convent. 
 The abbot wished, indeed, ' to see his patron,' but he deter- 
 mined that the examination should be private. Accordingly, 
 choosing twelve brethren, while 'the rest of the house were 
 asleep,' he withdrew the chest from the shrine, and opened it. 
 It was found ' fiUed with the holy body, so that hardly a 
 needle could be introduced between the head or the feet and 
 the wood.' Many wrappings of silk and Hnen were then 
 removed, the last being of thin silk, 'like the veil of some 
 holy woman ;' and the body then appeared, wrapped closely 
 in hnen. The eyes and the nose, 'valde grossum et valde 
 eminentem,' were distinctly visible. The abbot did not ven- 
 ture to remove the linen — ^perhaps, indeed, it was impossible 
 — ^but 'taking between his hands the head (which was found, 
 in accordance with the ancient legend of St. Edmund, 
 miraculously reattached to the body), he blessed the hour in 
 which the ' glorious martyr ' had been born, and then prayed 
 that he would forgive him who had dared to touch hm — 
 'quod te tango, pecoator et miser.'* The body, as was 
 usually expected in such cases, appeared flexible and in- 
 corrupt. Besides the abbot and his assistants, these things, 
 says Jocelin, were witnessed by brother John of Diss, who, 
 with some servants of iJie vestry, had managed to conceal 
 himself in the roof of the church. The chest was finally 
 reclosed, wrapped in linen, and over that in a piece of silken 
 
 * ' Gloriose martir, sancte iEdmunde, benedicta sit ilia hora qua 
 natus fuisti. Gloriose martir, ne vertas michi in perdioionem audaciam 
 meam, quod te tango peccator et miser : tn scis devocionem meam.' — 
 J. de Brakelonda, p. 84. 
 
238 THE GBEAT BHEINES 
 
 brocade, which had been offered at the shrine by Archbishop 
 Hubert Walter. It was then replaced in the shrine, of 
 whidi the panels were closed. After matins ■ the abbot 
 assembled the monks before the high altar, and told them 
 what had been done. 'When we heard it,' says Jocelin, 
 ' we sang with tears ' (partly caused, perhaps, by grief 
 at having been excluded from the great sight), '"Te 
 Deum laudamus, " and then hastened to ring the bells in 
 the choir.' 
 
 Shrine, relics — even the great church of St. Edmund — 
 have aU passed away, and no opening or ' coign of vantage' 
 remains, from which, like the adventurous brother John, we 
 might obtain such a glimpse as would bring these things 
 at all nearer to us. It is otherwise at Durham. There we 
 can still see and handle, not only portions of gifts made in 
 most ancient days at the shrine, but even certain relics 
 looked upon and used by St. Outhbert himself. The great 
 recorded examination of St. Cuthbert's body was made in 
 1104, when the Norman cathedral, begun by Bishop Wil- 
 liam of St. Carileph, had been so far completed under his 
 successor, Balph Flambard, as to permit of the removal of 
 St. Cuthbert's coffin to the shrine prepared for it. When 
 the monks of Lindisfame first raised his body from the 
 grave, in 698, eleven years after has death, ihey found it, so 
 Bede asserts, entirely incorrupt.* It had since undergone 
 much wandering and many changes ; and at the time of the 
 removal in 1104 — although the fame of no incorrupt saintly 
 body, the ' caro carie carens,' as the chroniclers described it, 
 had been more widely spread — ^there was some doubt of its 
 continued preservation, or indeed whether any relic of the 
 saint still remained in his coffin. A great company of 
 
 * 'Invenerunt corpus totum, quasi adhuc viveret, integrum, et 
 flexibilibus artuum eompagibus multo donuienti, quam mortuo, 
 similius.— Beda, Vita S. CvdbereU, cap. xlii. 
 
OP ENGLAND. 239 
 
 Benedictine abbots had assembled at Durham to assist in the 
 translation ; but the day before that took place certain of the 
 monks, with Turgot, the prior, at their head, were allowed to 
 examine the coffin and to set all doubts at rest.* They founds 
 we are told, ' the venerable body of the blessed father ' lying 
 on its side in a perfect state, with a great number of relics 
 in the same coffin. These, no doubt, were the head of St. 
 Oswald and the relics of St. Aidan and other early bishops of 
 the Northumbrians, which it is distinctly stated were placed 
 in St. Cuthbert's coffin when that was removed from Lindis- 
 farne. The robes in which the body was wrapped are duly 
 described. The Abbot of S^ez was then permitted to touch 
 the body and to show it to those great personages who were 
 waiting its translation. It was then carried in solemn pro- 
 cession round the new church, in the midst of a vast kneeling 
 crowd, and at last reached its resting-place in the choir. 
 There was some change when the ' nine altars' was built ; 
 but the shrine thenceforward occupied the same place until 
 the dissolution in 1542, when there is an express record that 
 the body of St. Cuthbert was buried under the platform on 
 which the shrine had stood.f In spite of this record, however, 
 and iu the face of many difficulties, there was, it has long 
 been asserted, a tradition to the effect that the 'treasure 
 beyond gold or topaz,' the incorrupt body of the saint, had 
 been secretly removed by certaiu of the monks, and con- 
 cealed, until better times should allow of its reappearance, in 
 some unknown part of the church : — 
 
 » Of the details of this translation and examination there are two 
 narratives, — one anonymous, printed in the Acta Smhctormn, and 
 evidently written by a contemporStry ; the other by Reginald of 
 Durham, in his Libelhis de 8. Cuthberto. Both are given at length in 
 Raine's St. Outhbert (Durham, 1828). Reginald's book has been 
 printed tor the Surtees Society. 
 
 t The statement is made by various persons, many of whom were 
 Romanists.— Raine's St. Owthhert, pp. 174 — 180. 
 
240 THE GEEAT SHRINES 
 
 ' There, deep in Durham's G-othio shade, 
 His relics were in secret laid ; 
 
 But none may know the place — 
 Save of his chosen servants three. 
 Deep sworn to solemn secrecy. 
 
 Who share that wondrous grace.'* 
 
 The tradition was preserved among the EngKsh Benedic- 
 tines ; but whatever amount of beKef it had obtained ought 
 to have been dissipated in 1827, when the tomb beneath the 
 platform of the shrine was opened and examined. This was 
 done in the presence and under the direction of the late Mr. 
 Raine, whose very interesting volume, containing a full 
 account of his discoveries, was published in the following 
 year. In a walled grave immediately under the centre of the 
 platform appeared first the ' new coffin ' made for the relics 
 on their interment in 1542. Within this were the remaias 
 of two other coffins ; that added on the translation of 1104, 
 and another showing, by the character and decoration of its 
 fragments, that it was the same in which the remaias had 
 been placed at Lindisfarne in 698. With this last coffin 
 was found a human skeleton wrapped in robes which had once 
 been of great richness. These robes, and many relics found 
 among them, were carefully .removed. The bones, including 
 a skull found in the inner coffin — ^no doubt that assigned to 
 St. Oswald — were reinterred in a new chest, and the grave 
 was closed as before. There can be no reasonable doubt that 
 these were the actual remains of St. Cuthbert. It is quite 
 possible that the body may have been incorrupt when it was 
 first disinterred in 698. Instances are known in which, 
 from natural causes, human bodies have remained perfect for 
 a considerable length of time. But it would seem that, 
 probably long before the translation in 1104 (when only one 
 or two persons were allowed to touch it), what passed for the ' 
 incorrupt St. Cuthbert had been, in truth, a skeleton so 
 
 * Ma/rmAon, canto ii. stanza 14. 
 
OF ENGLAND. 241 
 
 shrouded and enveloped in robes as to give the appearance of 
 an entire body. The cavities of the eyes in the skull of the 
 saint had been filled with round artificial balls of a whitish 
 colour ; indicating, perhaps, that when first the actual body 
 showed signs of collapsing, these balls had been inserted to 
 give the full outline beneath the face-cloth, which no one was 
 ever allowed to raise. 
 
 The rehcs taken from among the robes, and now preserved 
 in the library, comprise, among others, a cross of gold of 
 very ancient form, and set with garnets. It may well have 
 been worn by St. Cuthbert in his lifetime ; but it is more 
 certain that a small portable altar — ^a square slip of oak 
 plated with silver — ^is a personal relic of the saint. Only 
 portions of the silver plating remain ; and the oak beneath is 
 inscribed with letters, the form of which shows that the altar 
 was coeval with St. Cuthbert. It was, no doubt, used by 
 him ; and, in accordance with a custom of that age, it may 
 have been placed on his breast at his first interment. A 
 very beautiful stole and maniple, embroidered with figures of 
 saints, and still in wonderful preservation, were doubtless the 
 gifts to St. Cuthbert of the ' glorious Athelstan ' when he 
 visited the shrine (then at Chester-le-Street), either in 934 
 or in 937.* So, too, may have been the robes in which the 
 body was wrapped. The remaining fragments of these show 
 that they- were of Eastern, or perhaps of Sicilian, workman- 
 ship ; and not (in spite of the water-fowl embroidered on 
 
 * In which year this visit was made is not certain. The Chronicle 
 of Mailros places it in 934, when Constantine, King of Scots, ' broke the 
 peace,' and Athelstan went against him with a great host. Simeon of 
 Durham assigns it to the 'tenth year of Bishop Wigred,' or 937— the 
 year of the great fight at Brunanburgh. The gifts which Athelstan 
 then bestowed on the saint are enumerated in a charter (Cotton MSS., 
 Claudius, D. 4 ; and Mon, Angl. i. 40), a translation of which is given 
 by Mr. Raine {St. Cuthbert, p. 60). A stole and maniple occur among 
 them, besides seven robes (pallia). 
 
 16 
 
242 THE GEEAT SHEINE3 
 
 them), as Mr. Eaine suggests, manufactured expressly for 
 the saint.* 
 
 It is therefore perfectly credible that Durham possessed 
 the actual relics of St. Cuthbert, and that these are still 
 reposing beneath the shadow of Ms own church. If the 
 tradition of the removal of the body could have lingered in 
 the face of such discoveries, it was effectually disproved 
 by an examination made in 1867. jlhe tradition, it was 
 known, asserted that the body had been ])uried under the 
 stairs of the bell tower. This place was carefully explored ; 
 but no remains were found ; 9,nd it was evident that the 
 ground had never been disturbed .^ince the construction of 
 the tower, t 
 
 The remains of St. Cuthbert and those of the Confessor 
 alone, of all the long Kne of English saints, still repose in 
 their own churches, and on the very pppts where they wpre 
 anciently reverenced by crowding pilgrims. And it may be 
 added that there is scarcely another of the greater saints, 
 dating from before the Norman Conquest, whose asserted 
 relics, guarded and honoured as ihey were, can be shown by 
 such direct evidence to have been authentic. Of the later 
 saints-:— St. Thomas of Canterbury, St. Hugh, St. William 
 
 * Mr. Raine supposed these birds to represent the eider-duck, which 
 frequents the Fame Islands in great numbers, and was connected in 
 an especial manner with St. Cuthbert. They were called ' St. Cuth- 
 bert's ducks' in the days of Keginald, who asserts that the saint, during 
 his solitary life, tamed them, made them of use to him, and sometimes 
 wrought miracles on their behalf. A Durham 'Bursar's roU' for 1380-1, 
 mentions that 12d. was paid to a painter from Newcastle for painting 
 ' on&-of the birds of St. Cuthbert' for the Reredos (Eaine, p. 119). In 
 the feretrar's office were ' pillows of Cuthbert down' (Id. p. 142). 
 
 f There were, it is said, two lines of tradition, — one descending 
 through the Benedictines, another through the Vicars Apostolic (now 
 the Roman Catholic bishops) of the district. It was the secular (or 
 episcopal) tradition which asserted that the body had been buried in 
 the tower. It is hinted that the Benedictine tradition does not agree 
 with the secular. 
 
OP ENGLAND. 243 
 
 of York, St. Thomas Cantilupe of Hereford — -there is, of 
 course, no question. But an examination of the earlier 
 histories will give us good reason for pausing before we 
 admit that the relics displayed in many a great shrine were 
 in truth what they were declared to be. The two greatest 
 shrines of Eastern England, those of St. Etheldreda and St. 
 Edmund, are in this repect at least doubtful. For more than 
 a centurjr and a half the body of St. Etheldreda had rested 
 in its Roman sarcophagus near the altar of her own church, 
 before the Northmen, in 869, broke like a storm over the 
 land, murdered St. Edmund ihe East Anglian King, and 
 destroyed the great riionasteries of the fens, including Ely. 
 That place remained desolate for some years, until certain 
 of the clergy who had fled, returning, attempted to restore 
 the divine services in the midst of the ruined church. To 
 some extent they did this ; but Ely remained ' sine cultu et 
 revereniia ' until Athelwold of Winchester, the Wykeham of 
 his day, bought and rebuilt it, about the year 985. We have 
 therefore to believe either that the ' heathen host ' did not, in 
 search of treasure, violate the sepulchre of St. Etheldreda, 
 full in sight as it was, or that it was miraculously preserved. 
 The latter was the record of the Ely historians. There the 
 tradition ran, that a certain ' pirate,' fiercer than his bre- 
 thren, struck at the sarcophagus with his Danish axe, until 
 he had made an opening in the stone. But his eyes 
 instantly started from his head, and he died on the spot, — an 
 awfal warning to his fellows. The hole in the sarcophagus, 
 says Richard of Ely, writing about the beginning of the 
 twelfth century, 'is still to be seen.'* Setting aside all 
 
 * ' Quod hue usque apparet.' (Historia EUemis, p. 602, ap. Wharton, 
 Anglia Sacra, vol. i.) This 'foramen' may have given rise to the 
 whole story. The loss of eyesight was a usual punishment of those 
 who dared to lay sacrilegious hands on saints or their rel ics ;thus 
 the eyes of the executioner of St. Alban fall out as he strikes the 
 fatal blow. The Ely narrative sufficiently shows that the monks felt 
 
244 THE GEEAT SHBINES 
 
 miracle, howeTer, it is difficult to believe that' during the" years 
 in which Ely was absolutely deserted, and whilst the heathens 
 were establishing themselves in the country, the tomb of the 
 saint remained untouched. In the case of St. Edmund, the 
 whole story of the finding of his body is legendary ; and no 
 life of the saint was written until more than a century after 
 his martyrdom. It was declared that the head had become 
 united to the body, which remained incorrupt, like that of St. 
 Cuthbert. So it was found when Abbot Samson examined it 
 in 1198 ; and so it was in the days of Abbot Leofstan, shortly 
 before the Conquest, who opened the shrine, and in order to 
 test the story, took the head between his hands, and found it 
 firmly united. But as a punishment his hands were stricken 
 with paralysis. There is no reason, however, for believing 
 that the body, asserted however truly to be that of St. 
 Edmund, was exposed to any risk of loss or destruction after 
 it had once been brought to Beodricesweorth — the earlier . 
 name of St. Edmundsbury. When the Danes were plundering 
 East Anglia in 1010, it was conveyed for safety to London ; 
 and the very curious timbered church of Greenstead in 
 Essex is supposed to mark one of its resting places on 
 the journey. Yates asserts that Lewis of France, in 1216, is 
 said to have seized and carried back to France with him the 
 body of St. Edmund ; but this seems to be a story without 
 foundation, much like that which declared that the relics of 
 St. Albanhad been carried off into Sweden. 
 
 If the relics in the shrines of St. Etheldreda and St. Edmund 
 were of doubtful authenticity, far more is this the case with 
 those exhibited at St. Alban's. We have seen that there is no 
 very good evidence to prove that such a person as St. Alban 
 ever existed. Still the tradition, traceable apparently up to the 
 
 the preservation of St. Etheldreda's relics through the period of the 
 Danish ravages to be a difficulty, and that they were anxious to 
 account for it. 
 
OP ENGLAND. - 245 
 
 time of Germanus and Lupus (125 years after the Diocletian 
 persecution), must be allowed its due weight. But the 
 question of the relics introduces us to a region altogether 
 'supra historicam.' Nearly five hundred years after the 
 death of the martyr, Offa of Mercia ' fell in sweven ' as he 
 lay on his bed in the city of Bath, and was warned by an 
 angel to raise from the earth and to enshrine the l-elics of 
 St. Alban. The place at Verulamium, where they had been 
 hidden from the fury of the EngUsh conquerors, had long 
 been forgotten,* and Ofia and his bishops were at last guided 
 to it by a miraculous light. They found the relics in a 
 wooden chest, wJiich. also, included relics ' of all the Apostles 
 and divers martyrs ' placed in it by Grermanus.t It was in 
 consequence of this dream and discovery that Offe., according 
 to the questionable authority of the Life assigned to Matthew 
 Paris, founded the monastery on the place of St. Alban's 
 martyrdom, and provided a rich shrine for the precious relics. 
 They can have been neither more nor less authentic than 
 those of St. Amphibalus, a fellow-martyr whose name is due 
 to Geofiry of Monmouth, and who seems to have been manu- 
 fectured out of the cloak — ' amphibalus ' — of St. Alban. His 
 remains, together with those of nine other martyrs, were 
 
 * 'Fuerat namque locus, et memoria martyris post adventum 
 S. Germani . . . omnino deleta' (M. Paris, Vita Offce Secwndij p. 
 983). 'Locus autem sepulchri et loci distiacti cognitio, penitus 
 delebatui' {id. id.). This was about the year 793. Bade, writing in 
 731, asserts that miracles were in his. day wrought in the church of 
 St. Alban (H. B., i. 6). But even the locality of this church seems 
 to haye been forgotten. In 1257 a tomb was discovered at the east 
 end of the great conventual church, which was held to be that in 
 which St. Alban had been laid on the day of his martyrdom, and, of 
 course, that in which his reKcs were found by Oflfa. (M. Paris, p. 
 809.) 
 
 t Constantius (Vita Germani, quoted iu Haddan and Stubbs, Ommeils, 
 p. 5) asserts that Germanus placed in the sepulchre of St. Alban 
 'omnium Apostolorum diversorumquft martyrum reliquias.'' This 
 passage is the most direct evidence remaining to prove that such a 
 person as St, Alban ever existed. 
 
246 THE GEEAT SHBINES 
 
 ' invented ' in 1178 ; and when the shrine of St. Alban -vras 
 brought out of the church to meet them, it became so light 
 that it seemed to 'fly rather than to be conveyed on the 
 shoulders of its bearers ; ' whereas, on ordinary occasions, it 
 was difficult even to lift it.* 
 
 In two remarkable cases, the possession of the same saint 
 was claimed by two far separated churches. Bipon and 
 Canterbury both claimed St. Wilfrid. Archbishop Odo him- 
 self asserts that he removed the bones of the saint to Canter- 
 bury ; whilst the shrine of St. Wilfred was, until the sixteenth 
 century, one of the greatest treasures of Bipon. These rival 
 claims may perhaps be feirly explained ; but it is difficult 
 to suppose anything, short of actual fraud in the case of 
 St. Dunstan, claimed by both Glastonbury and Canterbury. 
 It was known that St. Dunstan had been buried in his own 
 cathedral at Canterbury ; and Eadmer declared that he had 
 himself seen his cc^n, iaviolate, on its translation after the 
 building of Lanfranc's church. But the Grlastonbury monks 
 (audacious claimers of relics) insisted that Dunstan's relics 
 had been removed to the monastery after the Danish sack of 
 Canterbury in 1011, and had then been hidden. The great 
 Church of Glastonbury was burnt in 1184. Funds were 
 needed for its rebuilding ; and it became desirable, accord- 
 ingly, to ' find ' the hidden relics of St. Dunstan. They were 
 ' found,' therefore, buried in an iron box, and were enshrined 
 with great solemnity. A great dispute concerning these 
 
 ♦ Matt. Paris, p. 113. Some relics, said to be of St. Alban, are 
 preserved in the ditirch. of S. Maria at Cologne. It is asserted that 
 they were taken from the tomb by Grermanus of Auxerre, and carried 
 to Rome, whence they were brought to Cologne by Theophania, wife 
 of Otto II., Emperor of Germany. But Constantius says nothing 
 about the removal of any such reUos. (See the Guardian newspaper. 
 Sept, 13 and Oct. 25, 1871.) If there was ever a real St. Alban, his 
 remains are probably still somewhere near Yerulamium. The relics 
 contained in the shrine are said to have been removed to Borne after 
 the dissolution. 
 
OF ENGLAND. 247 
 
 relics took place long afterwards between the Archbishop 
 and the Abbot of Griastonbury. The Canterbury shrink was 
 examined in 1508, and foiJnd to contain all the bones. But 
 Abbot Bere still insisted that the true relics were in his 
 possession. All the neighbotirhood, he declares, flocked to 
 the shrine on St. Dunstan's festival. ' And should any one 
 refuse to do so, and attend to his work or affairs, nothing 
 prospers with him in that yeaa*^ and grave itijury results to 
 his property and his fatmily.' ' Whoever,' he adds, ' saw the 
 earliest concourse of people daily supplicating at this shrine 
 with bare feet and garinehts cast' aside, would say, " Let them 
 alone, lest haply we be found even to fight against Grod." ' The 
 Archbishop, by no means converted, declared that strong 
 measures should be taken to remedy the scandal ; but a 
 stronger hand speedily intervened, and the rival shrines 
 perished together. A diapesr work of open lilies stiU marks 
 die place of St. Dunstan's shrine in Canterbury Cathedral. 
 
 It is certainly, as Professor Willis has remarked, a suspi- 
 dous fact that the rebuilding of a church — sometimes the 
 fbtindation of a new one — Was often accompanied by the dis- 
 covery of a faint's body, or by some especial marvel wrotight 
 before the ancient shririe.* One of the most wonderful dis- 
 coveries was that of the body of St. Ivo (the St. Ives of Hunt- 
 ingdonshire t), the resting-place of which was revealed to a 
 certain smith (ciiidam fabro) soon after the monastery of 
 i^ariisey had been founded^ at the end of the tenth century, 
 by ^dnoth and Ailwin the- ealdorman whom the Ramsey 
 monks called the 'friend of &od.' The existence of this 
 
 * Archit. History of Glcigtonbitry, p. 24. 
 
 f The St. Ives of Oormrall was a different person. He was a Breton 
 and according to the hymn for his office a ' lawyer ' : — 
 
 * Sanctiis Ivo erat Brito, 
 Advooatus sed non latro, 
 Ees miranda popxilo.' 
 
248 THE GEEAT SHBINES 
 
 St. Ivo is a pure fiction ; and when he revealed his own tomb 
 in a vision, he seems also to have added that he was a Persian 
 bishop.* So, at least, he was held to have been at ' Eamsey 
 the rich,' where his supposed relics were translated by 
 iEdnoth, and doubtless, in Fuller's words, 'brought much 
 grist to the miU.' Indeed, a peculiar morality was gradually 
 developed in the whole matter of relics. They were of so 
 great value to the church which displayed them, and the 
 belief in their miraculous powers had worked itself so deeply 
 into the religion of the times, that it was held a good and 
 pious deed to obtain possession of them in any manner — ' si 
 possis recte, si non, quocunque mode' Thus Durham ob- 
 tained the reHcs of the Venerable Bedeby the stratagem of its 
 monk Elfrid, who for many years visited Jarrow on the day 
 of Bede's death (when his remains were exhibited), appa- 
 rently for- purposes of devotion, but really in hope of carry- 
 ing off the relics. At last he succeeded, and Jarrow, without 
 remedy, was left to mourn her loss.f A favourite plan was 
 ' to make heavy with drink ' the keepers of the shrine, so 
 that the ' pious robbers and faithful thieves,' as the success- 
 ful foragers called themselves — the losers, no doubt, went 
 more directly to the point — ^were able to make off with their 
 spoil unsuspected. Thus, when the body of Eadnoth, Bishop 
 of Dorchester, killed in the battle of Assandun, was brought 
 to Ely on its way for interment at Eamsey, the guards who 
 protected it were made drunk, and the body, held to be that 
 of a martyr,, was secretly buried at Ely, and was afterwards 
 raised to the dignity of a shrine.J The historian, who reports 
 this with approbation, also reports with far higher approval 
 the translation or the ' faithful theft ' of the body of St. With- 
 burga from Dereham, in Norfolk, to Ely. Withburga, like 
 
 * See Haddan and Stubbs, CoimciU, p. 31, note 6. 
 + Simeon Dv/nelm., cap. 42. 
 J Liber EUensis, p. 189. 
 
OP ENGLAND. 249 
 
 Etheldreda of Ely, was one of the many sainted daughters of 
 Anna, king of the East Anglians. She was buried at East 
 Dereham, where she had established a church and convent, 
 and where she was venerated for many generations. At last 
 Edgar gave Dereham to Ely, lately restored by Bishop 
 Athelwold. Abbot Brithnoth determined to remove to the 
 new church ' illud prseclarissimum monile ecclesise' the body 
 of Withburga j but he feared the men of Dereham, and pro- 
 ceeded with due caution. He arrived at Dereham with a 
 body of armed followers, and invited the inhabitants to a 
 great feast, at which he ' fiUed them with wine.' At night, 
 when all had well drunken and were asleep, ' God's robber ' 
 (Dei prsedo), as the abbot is called, 'ready for this holy 
 sacrilege, this faithful theft, this supplanting of Jacob's bless- 
 ing,' entered the church, opened the tomb, and carried off 
 the body of Withburga. His armed men and clerks sur- 
 rounded the carriage on which it was placed, rejoicing like 
 conquerors over their prey. ' The men of Dereham awoke to 
 find their treasure gone. Like the ark of God, they cried, it 
 had been carried off by the Philistines. They roused the 
 country with horn and clamour, and pursued in hot haste, 
 but did not come in sight of the ' Philistines ' until the relics 
 of Withburga had been embarked on the Ouse at Brandon. 
 The pursuers lined the river on either side, flinging darts and 
 javelins at the 'robbers.' The abbot hardly escaped, and 
 even the body of the saint was endangered. But, in spite of 
 the tumult and continued attack, the abbot reached his own 
 territory in safety. A great company of men and women 
 poured forth from Ely to meet the new treasure ; and With- 
 burga, with the utmost joy and festivity, was placed in the 
 church by the side of her more famous sister.* 
 
 But however obtained, and however doubtful its authen- 
 ticity, the body, of a saint, when once recognized, was a 
 * Liber EUensis, pp. 164 — 167. 
 
250 THE GEEAT SHBINES 
 
 treasure of infinite value to the church which possessed it) 
 and, in the case of the greater shrineS, was a protection to 
 the whole surrounding country. The saint knew how to care 
 for and to defend his own. Reflecting the feudal and warlike 
 chairacter of the age, he was constantly regarded as a great 
 baron, the head of his followers — a distinction which in some 
 legends is given even to St. Peter and to Zebedee, a 'mighty 
 baron ' of Grahlee, whose sons fished for pleasure, and not for 
 profit.* ' Monseigneur St. George ' and ' My Lord St. James' 
 more than once appeared^ on horseback in the battle-field, 
 like the ' twin brethren ' at the Lake RegiUus, fighting' for 
 the Christians against the Spanish Moors. Thfey wore full 
 armour, and the surcoat of St. James was covered with 
 scallop shells — the emblems which pilgrims carried from 
 Gompostella.f So St. Edmund, when King Sweyne had 
 demanded a heavy tribute from Bury, and threatened de- 
 struction to the church and town if it were not paid, took the 
 defence on himself, and, just as Sweyne was beginning his 
 march from Grainsborough, appeared to him in fiiU harness, 
 coming against Mm with a spear in his hand. ' Help,' cried 
 Sweyne; ' fellow-soldiers,' Saint Edmund is coming to slay 
 me ! ' And as the saint ran him through, he feU from his 
 horse, and died the same night in torments, f So, too, when 
 Htery Earl of Essexj head of the great house of Mandeville, 
 was fighting Robert of Montfort in^ wager of battle on an 
 island in the Thames, near Reading,- he beheld St. Edmund 
 fuUy armed, his countenance fierce and threatening, floating 
 
 * Freeman, Hist, of the Norm. Con^iiest,i. 279. In the Bomance of 
 Pa/rise la Buchesse ' the combatants MiWs and Berengiers swear to the 
 truth of their statements on' 
 
 ' ... la chase del baron San Martin, 
 
 Get del baron San Gile, et del cor Saint Finnin.' — p. 53. 
 
 t J., (fo Morgan, s. a. 1225. (Lnard's Ed., pp. 34-5). 
 % Freeman, Norm. Conq., i. 403. The story is told by Florence of 
 'Worcester. 
 
OB' ENGLAND. 261 
 
 in the air above the river, and attended by a certain G-ilbert 
 de Cerville, whose death Earl Henry had caused. Henry 
 had made no gifts to the house of St. Edmund, and had even 
 oppressed it. Hence the martyred king appeared at this 
 moment of peril, took all strength from the earl, and caused 
 his entire defeat.* King Edmund could assail his enemies 
 with sword and lance ; but other saints had their own pro- 
 tective weapons, which they were not slow to use. The three 
 sainted Abbesses of Ely kiUed with the points of their pasto- 
 ral staves a servant of Picot, Norman sheriff of Cambridge- 
 shire, who had greatly troubled the men of St. Etheldreda.f 
 St. Cuthbert, when the Norman soldiers were advancing 
 towards his holy territory, spread a thick mist over the earth, 
 so that they were unable to cross the Tees ; and when after- 
 wards the Conqueror himself, returning from Scotland, visited 
 Durham, and insisted on ascertaining whether the saint's 
 incorrupt body really rested there, he was seized with a 
 violent fever on the v6ry day appointed for the inspection, 
 rushed from the church, arid, mounting his horse, never drew 
 bridle until he had passed the bounds of the bishoprick.f 
 Fulke de Breaute, one of the fiercest of King John's 'robbers,' 
 who had plundered the town of St. Alban's, and killed a man 
 at the entrance of the church, dreamt some time afterwards 
 that a mighty stone fell like a thunderbolt (in modum 
 fblguris) from St. Alban's tower, and ground him to powder. 
 
 * Jocelin de Brakelonda, p. 60. 
 
 t Thomas Eliensis, ap. Wharton, AngUa Sacra, i. p: 611. 
 X Simeon I>imelm.,ca,p. 54:. Mr. Eaine BUggests that we may exclaim 
 with Hubert in King John — 
 
 ' The king, I fear, is poisoned by a monk.' 
 
 'After this,' says Hegge, in his curious Legend, 'the king had a 
 reverend opinion of St. Cuthbert/ It is certain that the church of 
 Durham was much benefited by the Conqueror, whose charters are 
 still preserved in the Treasury. But the whole story- is legendary. 
 (See Freeman, Normu Ckmq.,iv. 520.) 
 
252 THE GEEAT SHEINES 
 
 His wife persuaded him to ask the saiat's forgiveness, and 
 Fulke accordingly presented himself before the chapter of 
 monks, without his upper garments, and holding a rod in his 
 hand. He was absolyed, and kissed all the monks. But he 
 made no restitution, and died afterwards of a poisoned fish, 
 suffering the vengeance of the martyr.* Stories such as 
 these, which might be multiplied almost without number, 
 sufficiently indicate that, in those ages of storm and rapine, 
 the dread of a saint's vengeance and the reputation of his 
 power were of no slight assistance in protecting his halidom, 
 and in produciag that comparative peace which for the most 
 part reigned in the neighbourhood of a great shrine. In fact, 
 with a feeling which takes us back to the days of the Mais 
 and Gunnars, when it was held that the old Northern hero 
 rested in some mysterious half-life within the recesses of his 
 grave-mound, the shrine was regarded as the home of the 
 Christian saint, from which he frequently emerged, and 
 within which he was alive to the prayers and vows of his 
 worshippers. A window in Canterbury Cathedral represents 
 Becket issuing from his shrine in full pontificals to sing mass 
 at a neighbouring altar. St. Edmund on one occasion was 
 seen leaving his shrine in armour, and then returning to it 
 with his sword drawn and bloody, as though he had smitten 
 his enemies ; and St. Alban, by issuing from and returning to 
 his shrine, testified that his relics were safe in his own church,t 
 
 * Matt. Paris, p. 246, and post., p. 238, where the story is told with 
 some variation. ' Utinam non adhuc conterat eum lapis iste in inferno 
 plurimum formidabilis,' adds the historian. A singular fate befell one 
 Herbert Duket, ' possessionibus Beati Albani infestus,' who, passing 
 one day before the high altar (and therefore in front of the shrine) 
 was suddenly reduced to the height and size of a monkey (vix simiae 
 retineret quantitatem), whereas before he had been a man of lofty 
 stature. ' Ita quod nomini ejus cognomentum Duket per contrarium 
 adjiceretur.' He was restored on promising to make satisfaction 'Deo 
 et sancto Martyri.' — M. Paris, Vit. Abbat., p. 1017. 
 
 t Matt. Paxis, Vita Ahbat., p. 997. 'Ecce ego Albanus hie qiiiesco/ 
 exclaimed the saint. ' Nonne me vidisti de meo feretro exirel ' 
 
OF ENGLAND. 253 
 
 and not in Sweden or at Ely. Spoliation of the shrine in 
 which the saint thus rested, although, as we have seen, not 
 altogether unknown, became a crime, the perpetrators of 
 which could not hope to escape unscathed. Certain monks, 
 who, obeying the wicked wiU of Bishop Nigel, ventured to 
 take part of the gold and other metals from the shrine of 
 St. Etheldreda, were, we are told, variously punished, one of 
 them by an attack of gout --'quern medici podagra grsece 
 nuncupant.'* When Oceur de Lion was a captive in 
 Germany, and the treasures of England were gathered for 
 his ransom, the Abbot of St. Edmund's refused to sanction 
 any stripping of the shrine. ' The doors of the church shall 
 be opened,' he said ; ' he may enter who will — ^he may 
 approach who dares.' The justiciaries would not venture. 
 ' St. Edmund,' they declared, ' displays his anger against 
 many who are absent and at a distance. Far more angry 
 will he be with those who are present, and try to take his 
 coat from him.'f 
 
 The saint was thus, in a sense the head of his barony, 
 and was represented by the bishop or abbot in whose church 
 his shrine was erected. The followers of the feudal lord, 
 were the 'men of St. Cuthbert,' ' St. Edmund,' or ' St. Ethel- 
 dreda ; ' and many privileges fell to their lot, which could not 
 be claimed by the men of more secular baronies. They were 
 in an especial manner the guardians of the shrine. The men 
 of St. Cuthbert's halidom, known as ' haUworfolc,' f resisted 
 the 'ban' of their powerful bishop, Anthony Bek, and 
 declared that they held their lands for the defence of St. 
 Cuthbert's body, and were not bound to go beyond Tyne or 
 Tees for either king or bishop,§ a claim which was certainly 
 
 * Rio. Blien., ap. AngUa Sacra, i. 626. 
 
 t Jocelin de Brakelonda, p. 71. ' Qui tunicam suaiu ei auferre 
 voluermt.' 
 
 i i.e. 'Holy Ward Folk.' 
 
 § Robert de Graystanes (Ang. 8ae., i. p. 749). 
 
254 THE GEEAT SHEINES 
 
 not insisted on, and which, on that border district, would have 
 been at times fiill of danger. They professed to be descend- 
 ants, or at least representatives, of the laymen of Lindisfarne, 
 who, when St. Cuthbert's body was conveyed thence in 875 
 for fear of the Northmen, followed it through all its wander- 
 ings, and at length settled in the heart of ancient Deira. In 
 time of war they rallied under the banner of St. Outhbert, 
 one of the most famous of those holy standards which 
 belonged to, and were hung above, every great shrine. In 
 the earlier Christian ages, the shrine itself, or some portion 
 of the relics, was frequently carried in the ' host,' and sta- 
 tioned on some high ground overlooking the battle-field, 
 where, like the uplifted arm of Moses, it might bless and 
 influence those who fought for it. Thus the shrine of St. 
 Wendreda was carried from Ely to the field of Assandun, 
 where, with other relics, it was lost, and never recovered.* 
 On special occasions, relics were carried on the person of a 
 great leader. William, at Hastings, wore round his neck a 
 rehquary containing certain of the saintly remains on which 
 Harold had sworn his famous oath.t But the greater shrines 
 were rarely moved, and the display of the actual relics was 
 gradually superseded by tha,t of the consecrated banner, 
 specially belonging to the saint, and sometimes containing 
 some lesser memorial of him. The great prototype of such 
 banners was the ' Vexillum Regis '--^the ' standard of the 
 King' himself— the supposed true cross of our Lord. At 
 once a standard and a relic, it was frequently carried to 
 victory in the host of the Crusaders, imtil, at the battle of 
 Hattin (July 4th, 1187), it was taken by Saladin ; J and its 
 
 * Liber Mierms, p. 196. 
 
 f Freeman, Norm. Conq., iii. p. 463, from William of Poitiers. A 
 rib of St. Rumold was once, with the best results, fastened into the 
 shield of a knight who was fighting for Mechlin, imder the walls of the 
 city. (Sollerius, Vita et Mirac. 8. BumoMi). 
 
 J Itin. Eegis Bicardi, 1. i. p. 15 (ed. Stubbs). 
 
OP ENGLAND. 256 
 
 loss, heard with horror throughout Christendom, was one of 
 the great incitements to the crusade in which the ' Athleta 
 Dei,* Bichard the Lion-Heart, won his hrighest renown. 
 St. Cuthbert had, doubtless, a banner from an early period; 
 but after the battle of Neville's Cross (1346), when David 
 Bang of Scots was defeated, some change was made in it. 
 On that occasion the Prior of Durham had been warned in 
 vision to fasten on the point of a spear ' the holy corporax 
 cloth wherewith St. Cuthbert covered the chalice when he 
 used to say mass,' and to dislpay it on the Red HUls, close 
 outside the city, and within sight of the battle-field.* The 
 victory was mainly attributed to this relic; and it was after- 
 wards fastened into the ;Centre of a banner covered with 
 white velvet, on which was laid a cross of red. This was the 
 ' banner of St. Cuthbert,' which was carried against Scotland 
 by Richard II. and by Henry IV., which waved over the 
 men of the bishoprick at Modden, and which, after the disso- 
 lution, was ' despitefully burned in her fire ' by the wife of 
 Dean Whittingham, 'to the open contempt and disgrace of 
 all ancient reliques.' A somewhat similar fate, no doubt, 
 befell the great saints' banners of Yorkshire — those of St. 
 Peter of York, of St. John of Beverley, and of St. Wilfrid 
 of Ripon. These were of gxeat antiquity. The banner of 
 St. John was carried into Scotland by Athelstan, who re- 
 garded himself as under the special protection of the saint ; 
 and on his return, victorious, offered on the altar of his shrine 
 the sword he had wielded in the great battle of Brunanburgh. 
 The three banners gave name to the ' Battle of the Standard ' 
 (1138), in which David of Scotland was defeated. On this 
 occasion they were suspended from a tall mast, crowned by a 
 silver crucifix and a pyx CQnt3,iniQg the consecrated host, and 
 raised on a four-wheeled platform, hke the 'carroccio,' or 
 carriage, which bore the standard of so many Italian cities. 
 * Description of the Ancient Monuments of Ditrham (Baine), p. 107 
 
256 THE GBBAT SHEINES 
 
 Round this platform — ^the place of wMch during the battle is 
 still known as ' Standard Hill ' * — gathered the English host ; 
 and from it Walter I'Espec addressed the barons 'with a 
 voice like a trumpet,' and Ealph, Bishop of Orkney, gave 
 absolution to all who should fall in the coming fight. The 
 Scots were broken and fled in disorder, and the victory was 
 -mainly attributed to the power of the saints whose banners 
 rose in full sight of the combatants, f 
 
 With something of the same feehng that provided a banner 
 for the saint himself, the greater shrines were frequently 
 adorned with standards taken in battle, and suspended near 
 them as thank-offerings. Richard I., who had visited St. 
 Edmund's as a pilgrim before his departure for the Holy 
 Land in 1189, offered at the shrine there, on his return, the 
 ' precious banner ' taken from Isaac Comnenus, the so-called' 
 Emperor of Cyprus.l At St. Cuthbert's shrine hung the 
 banner and 'ancient' of the King of Scots, taken at the 
 battle of Neville's Cross, and offered to the saint by the Lord 
 Neville, together with his own victorious standard. At Can- 
 terbury, a crescent of some hard foreign wood may still be 
 seen fixed on the roof of the Cathedral, immediately above 
 the ancient place of the shrine of St. Thomas. It has been 
 conjectured that it formed the centre of a group of standards, 
 taken by the Crusaders, and offered to St. Thomas ' of Acre,' 
 as the archbishop was sometimes called. Banners like these 
 were attached to the shrine in various ways ; and, as at 
 Durham, it was frequently surrounded by the standards of 
 
 * Standard Hill is about three miles north of Northallerton. A farm 
 near it is called ' Soot Pits,' from the burial trenches of the Scots who 
 fell in the battle. 
 
 t Ailred of Bievaulx, De helh Stomda/rdi, ap. Twysden, Decern Scrip- 
 tores. 
 
 % ' Inde peregre profectus ad sanctum Edmundum obtulit ibi illud 
 pretioBum vexillum quod fuit Imperatoris Cypri. — Itmeraritvm Begie 
 BicarcU, p. 446 (ed. Stubbs). 
 
OF ENGLAND. 267 
 
 neighbouring knights and barons, who thus placed them- 
 selyes ^nd their followers under the immediate protection of 
 the local saint. 
 
 In connexion with the chief shrine — sometimes in almeries 
 ranged about the platform on which it stood, as at Durham ; 
 sometimes hung above it, as we have seen was the case at 
 St. Edmund's ; sometimes in vaulted recesses beneath or near 
 it, as at Winchester, where the vault beneath the platform of 
 St. Swithun's shrine is still called the ' Holy Hole ' — lesser 
 relics of various descriptions were arranged, often in reli- 
 quaries 0? the utmost richness. Here also were preserved 
 some of the larger and more cumbrous offerings to the saint, 
 which could not well be attached to the shrine itself. Such 
 probably was the golden crown of Scotland, taken from John 
 Balliol at Dover, and offered to St. Thomas of Canterbury 
 by Edward I. Such, without doubt, was the 'black rood of 
 Scotland' — a famous crucifix of blackened silver, which, after 
 the rout of Neville's Cross, fell into the hands of the English 
 and became an appendage of the shrine of St. Cuthbert. All 
 these almeries were opened, and the reliquaries displayed, 
 when the ' cooperculum ' was lifted from the great shrine, 
 and pilgrims were permitted to approach it. 
 
 A complete list of the relics which surrounded the Durham 
 shrine was made by the shrine-keeper in 1383, and has been 
 printed by Mr. Raine.* Among many noticeable rarities, 
 ' griffins' eggs ' frequently occur ; and as the ' green cope of 
 St. Cuthbert,' in which he was wrapped before his translation 
 by Bishop Flambard, was ornamented with griffins, and as 
 certain robes manufactured for Bishop Hugh de Puiset were 
 profusely covered with them, it has been suggested that the 
 griffin was in some special manner connected with St. Cuth- 
 bert.t This may have been so. But the griffins' (which 
 
 * Id. id. p. 121. 
 
 t Two claws of a gri£B.n were shown with the eggs among the 
 
 17 
 
258 THE GEEAT SHEINES 
 
 were, in truth, ostriches') eggs preserved in the almeries were 
 frequently used as reliquaries, and were suspended near other 
 shrines besides that of St. Cuthbert. They were brought by 
 pilgrims and Crusaders from the East, and a certain myste- 
 rious character was assigned to them by Greek and Oriental 
 Christians, from whom the use of them in Western Europe 
 was adopted. Ostrich eggs may still be seen in some Greek 
 churches.* They are said to symbolize at once faith and the 
 constant attention of the Creator to the uniTerse, according 
 to a strange but beautiful fable that the ostrich hatches its 
 eggs by gazing steadfastly at them : a story which Southey 
 has used in ' Thalaba,' where Oneiza gazes at the ' chosen 
 youth ' — 
 
 ' . . . even with such a look as fables say 
 The mother ostrich fixes on her egg 
 
 Tin that intense affection 
 
 Kindle its light of life.'t 
 
 To complete the picture of a great shrine we must imagine 
 it hung round with ' ex voto ' offerings of wax or of metal, 
 representing, according to a custom stiU followed in some 
 Italian churches, either the persons themselves who had been 
 miraculously cured, or had received some special favour from 
 the saint ;J or, more frequently, the arm, hand, leg, or other 
 
 Durham reUcs. ^ In the British Museum is a horn of the Egyptian 
 ibex, more than two feet in length, and on its silver rim is engraved 
 in letters of the 16th century, " Grj^phi unguis Divo Cuthberto Dunel- 
 mensi sacer." Casley mentions a cup (? sic) as being in the Bodleian 
 Library, 4 feet long, with the same inscription.' (W. H. D.) Longstaffe 
 on Bp. Pudse/s (de Puiset's) buildings at Durham, in Transae. of 
 ArchAt. and Arehxol. Soc. of Durham, and Northumberland, 1862. 
 
 * Tozer's Highla/nds of Turkey, i. 80. Three ostrich eggs filled with 
 relics were among the gifts of Magnus of Sweden and his queen to tire 
 church of Wadstena, where was the shrine of the Swedish St. Brita, or 
 Bridget. — Marryatt's Sweden, i. 305. 
 
 t Thalaba, bk. iii. 24 
 
 t In the church of S. Maria deUe Grazie, near Mantua, many such 
 large waxen figures are hung up. They are fuUy dressed. Among 
 
OF ENGLiND. 259 
 
 member restored to health, such as we see so often about the 
 shrines of Belgium or of Britanny. From these representa- 
 tions, animals were by no means excluded. St. Edmund and 
 St. Etheldreda were powerful protectors of aU cattle and ' live 
 stock,' within their own domains ; and among the ' miracula ' 
 which attested the saintly claims of the great Earl, Simon of 
 Montfort, are many stories relating to the stable and the 
 ' basse-cour.' Thus we are told that 'the old Countess of 
 Gloucester' had a palfrey which had been asthmatic for two 
 years; until one day, in journeying from Tewkesbury to 
 Evesham, it drank from the Earl's well, and was restored to 
 perfect health. When a chick which belonged to Agnes of 
 Selgrave fell into a pond and was drowned, she pulled it out 
 and conunended it to the ' blessed Simon,' whereupon it got 
 up and walked about as usual; and a peacock which had by 
 chance been injured was miraculously healed by the same 
 powerful intercession ; so that the good woman to whom it 
 belonged felt herself in duty bound to offer its tail before the 
 tomb at Evesham.* In most cases such offerings and waxen 
 figures can hardly have been attached to the actual shrine. 
 They must have been hung on the surrounding piers, and in 
 some instances have been suspended from the vaulting ; 
 whilst the shrine towered in the midst, reflecting from its 
 gilded and polished surfaces the blaze of waxen torches burn- 
 ing day and night around it. 
 
 The name of the local saint was always a favourite in his 
 own district. Hence the many Cuthberts of the North, the 
 
 them are Charles V., Philip II., Pope Pius II., and the Constable 
 Bourbon. Some are 'ex votos' from persons with the Constable's 
 army. There were formerly similar figures in the church of the 
 Annonciade at Florence, among which a fuU-length of Duke Alexander 
 was moulded by Benvenuto Cellini. They were hung from the roof. — 
 Valery, Voyage en ItaKe, t. i. 
 
 * 'Miracula Simonis de Montfort,' appended to the Camden Society's 
 edition of 'William of Eishamger. 
 
260 THE GEEAT SHEINES 
 
 Wilfrids of old Yorkshire houses, and the Edmunds and 
 Audreys (the form which ^theldrythe or Etheldreda took 
 among the people) so common in Eastern England. The 
 great saint of Canterbury stretched his influence more widely. 
 It was owing to his national reputation that the name of 
 Thomas — on which Southey has rung so many pleasant 
 changes in 'the Doctor' — ^became so general, and was so 
 variously applied. The Plantagenet Edwards were named, 
 from the royal Confessor. Henry III., who rebuilt his 
 minster and translated his relics, gave' his name to the son 
 who succeeded on the English throne and became the greatest 
 of his race. To the same king is due the restoration to the. 
 royal house of another saintly name, which had been borne by 
 one at least of the worthiest heroes whose deeds are recorded 
 in old English history. But Edmund, son of Henry III. 
 and Eleanor of Savoy (born on St. Marcellus' day, 1245), 
 was not named in honour either of Edmimd Ironside or of 
 the sainted king of East Anglia. His ' patron ' was Edmund 
 Rich, Archbishop of Canterbury (1234 — 1240), who, after a 
 life and episcopate of great excellence, despairing of his 
 country, then groaning under that foreign yoke which was at 
 last lifted by the war of the Barons, fled to the Cistercian 
 house of Pontigny (where Becket had before him taken 
 refuge), and died there (November 16, 1240). In 1246 this 
 second St. Edmund was cononized by the Pope at Lyons ; 
 and his shrine, which it is said still contains his relics, occu- 
 pies even now the place of honour in the church of Pontigny. 
 Edmund (afterwards titular King of Sicily) was born and 
 named in the year before the archbishop's canonization, but 
 some time after his sanctity had been recognized.* In 1254, 
 nine years later, Henry III. and his queen made a solemn 
 
 * By the Pope, and apparently by Henry. But St. Edmund's 
 enemies in England did all they could to prevent the canonization. — > 
 Matt. Paris, p. 656. 
 
OP ENGLAND. 261 
 
 pilgrimage to Pontigny. Lewis of France (Saint Lewis) had 
 only just returned from his crusade. He met the King of 
 England at Orleans ; but Henry would not allow Lewis to 
 conduct him to Pontigny, nor would he then turn aside to 
 visit the great barons of France, saying that it was not fit to 
 do so while he was St. Edmund's pilgrim. On his return 
 he was received at Paris with the utmost splendour. A great 
 company of nobles and bishops was assembled in his honour, 
 and the two kings — alike in much, yet so really different — 
 spent many days in feasting and discourse. King Lewis 
 gave Henry an elephant which he had brought from the Eastj 
 the first, says Matthew Paris, ever seen in England, and the 
 people flocked in crowds to wonder at it, as it was conducted 
 from Dover to London.* 
 
 Whilst every great road in the kingdom was in some sense 
 a ' pilgrim's way,' and on the recurrence of certain festivals 
 was thronged by persons hastening to the shrine of the local 
 saint, it is noteworthy that in more than one case a very 
 ancient line of bye-road was adopted on some occasions by 
 the pilgrims. The ' pilgrims' path ' running along the south 
 flank of the north downs, extending through Surrey and 
 Kent, and probably connected at its west end with Southamp- 
 ton, has been carefully traced by Mr. Albert Way, and was 
 no doubt the road by which pilgrims from the west and those 
 who landed at Southampton, frequently approached the shrine 
 of St. Thomas. Another ancient track, running by New- 
 market, Brandon, and Castle Acre, (not unconnected with 
 the old Icenhilde way,) was known as the ' Palmer's Way,' or 
 ' Walsingham Green Way,' and was used by pilgrims to the 
 great Norfolk shrine. Such roads, although it is now diffi- 
 cult to trace them, were well marked, and were perhaps 
 
 * M. Paris records the arrival of the elephant. The pilgrimage of 
 Henry and Eleanor is apparently mentioned only in the Burton Awnala, 
 ad. ann. 1254 (Luard's edition, pp. 327—329). 
 
262 THE GEEAT SHEINES 
 
 better 'bridle paths' than the more frequently traversed 
 king's highway. In disturbed times they may have been 
 safer ; and strangers travelling along them were less subject 
 ilian on the greater roads to the attacks of thieves and out- 
 laws, who, like Will Scarlet and Much the Miller's son, came 
 
 down 
 
 ' To Watling Street to take a prey," 
 
 and who were always on the look-out for the purses of 
 wealthy pilgrims. Yet the Watling Street itself, which 
 crossed the country from Chester to London, and extended 
 thence by Canterbury to the sea, was the road by which 
 Chaucer's famous company of pilgrims advanced to Canter- 
 bury ; and it seems to have been the great use of this road as 
 a pilgrims' way, which caused the occasional appUcation of its 
 name to the Galaxy, — 
 
 ' Lo there (quod he) cast up thine eye, 
 Se yonder, lo, the Galaxie, 
 The which men clepe the milky way. 
 For it is white, and some parfay 
 YoaUin it han WatUngestrete.'* 
 
 At any rate, the Galaxy in this and other countries has been 
 constantly connected with the greater lines of pilgrimage. 
 One of its Turkish names is ' the Hadjis way,' as indicating 
 the road to Mecca. In Italy, in France, and in the north of 
 Europe, it has been called St. Jago's way — Jacobsstrasse — 
 the road to Compostella; and in Norfolk it became ihe 
 ' Walsingham way ' — the long streaming path of light that 
 pointed toward the great shrine of the Virgin., 
 
 Along aU the lines of road used by the pilgrims, wayside 
 chapels and lesser shrines were gradually established, some of 
 which are of much interest. At Dartford, on the way to 
 Canterbury, there was a small ,chantry of St. Edmund, to 
 visit which the pilgrims of St. Thomas usually turned aside, 
 
 * Chaucer, House of Famie. 
 
OF ENGLAND. 263 
 
 and which became of so great repute on its own account that 
 the Watling Street towards London is. occasionally referred 
 to as ' St. Edmund's, way.' At Houghton-le-Dale, a little 
 south of Walsingham, is a small and beautiftd «hapel of the 
 14th century, where pilgrims coming from the south con- 
 fessed and were shriven before advancing to the shrine. The 
 most remarkable of these chapels, however, since in some 
 respects it is unique in this country, is the Ghapel of the Red 
 Mount at Kings Lynn. This is a small stone b.uilding of 
 three stories, built in the form of an equal armed cross, but 
 encased by an octagonal shell of brick. The chapel itself, 
 which seems to have contained a much-honoured figure of 
 the Virgin, is on the upper story, and is approached by a 
 double staircase within the octagonal casing. By one stair 
 the pilgrims mounted, made their offerings, and leaving the 
 chapel by another door, descended by the stair opposite. The 
 date of this curious shrine is 1485. It resembles in its 
 arrangements a small chapel of St. Hubert which exists at 
 Amboise. 
 
 It has already been said that Kent and Norfolk were espe- 
 cially rich in such local shrines as this. The lower panels of 
 the Norfolk rood screens, some of which remain in a very 
 perfect condition, display a series of saintly figures more 
 various, and in some respects more peculiar, than any which 
 can be found elsewhere. Among them appears ' Good King 
 Harry,' the unfortunate Henry VI., whose effigy was placed 
 in many Yorkshire and east country churches, and was 
 resorted to by pilgrims ' to be cured of their diseases,' perhaps 
 with special reference to the king's evil. Another remark- 
 able figure is that of Sir John . Shome, or ' Maister John 
 Shorne,' a Benedictine of Canterbury, and Rector of North 
 Marston in Buckinghamshire, where he died, and where he 
 had a well and a shrine so greatly. frequented by pilgrims 
 that the chancel of the church is said to have been rebuilt 
 
264 THE GEEAT SHEINES 
 
 from their offerings, ' Maister John ' on one occasion ' con- 
 veyed ' the devil into a boot — a, legend which belongs to a 
 class dwelt on at length in Grimm's ' Mythologie.' The 
 story was portrayed in the east window of his fhurch ; and 
 on the Norfolk screens he appears holding a long black boot, 
 from which emerges the grim figure of the evil one* 
 
 The hostelries in which pilgrims were entertained, nume- 
 rous about every important shrine, and on the road to it ; 
 the ' tokens ' fastened into their hats,-;-such as the leaden 
 bottles of water from St. Thomas's well, or St. Etheldreda's 
 chains, made of fine silk ; the great fairs held annually on 
 the translation festivals, when the 'pax sancti' was main- 
 tained with especial strictness, or the more permanent 
 booths, such as those of the Mercery at Canterbury, or the 
 ' tawdry ' (St. Audrey) stalls at Ely, where pilgrims might 
 obtain various memorials of their visit jf — on all these sub- 
 jects there is much to be said, although they can here be only 
 named. 
 
 Long before the religious changes of the sixteenth century 
 the zeal for pilgrimages had greatly lessened. The ' scent of 
 the morning air ' made itself felt in that direction, as in so 
 many others, before the great shrines were altogether re- 
 moved ; so that, for the most part, there was little strong 
 feeling excited by the spoliation and destruction of the shrines, 
 or by the appropriation of their vast wealth. We may well 
 wish that, in many respects, the destruction had been less 
 complete, and that we had followed the example of some 
 other countries at least as eager for reform as our own. In 
 Sweden many reliquaries are still preserved : and the silver 
 
 * A curious notice of Sir John Thome, by the Rev. W. Sparrow 
 Simpson, will be found in the Journal of the Archaeological Associa- 
 tion, vol. xxiii. See Grimm's Dj Mythol., p. 963.^ 
 
 t Dean Stanley in his Memoriah of Ccmterbv/ry, and Mr. J. G, 
 Nichols, in notes to the CoUoquy of Erasmus, Peregrmatio Beligionis 
 ergo, have treated these subjects at some length. 
 
OP ENGLAND. 265 
 
 shrine of St. Eric, the great patron of the country, occupies 
 its ancient position on the left side of the altar in Upsala 
 Cathedral.* But the change itself was inevitable. Whatever 
 good had been bound up with the earlier reverence for 
 saintly shrines had long passed away. The multitude of so- 
 called patrons and protectors obscured all truth ; and we are 
 reminded of the old dramatist's noble lines : — 
 
 ' . . . Superstition 
 Doth violate the deity it worships 
 No less than seom doth ; and believe it, brother, 
 ~ The use of things is all, and not the store. 
 
 Surfeit and fulness have kUled more than famine ; 
 The sparrow with his little plumage flies, 
 WhUe the proud peacock, overcharged with pens, 
 Is fain to sweep the ground with his grown train 
 And load of feathers.'t 
 
 * Marryatt's Sweden, ii. 153. The shrine was opened in 1699 in 
 compliment to the Polish Ambassador, who kissed the relics one by 
 one, and said some fine things to Olaus Rudbeck, who was present, 
 about his Atla/ntica. 
 
 t Ben Jonson, The Staple of News, act 5, sc. the last. 
 
VI. 
 TEAYELLING IN ENGLAND * 
 
 SIR HIJjDEBRAND JACOB, author, in the early part 
 of the last century, of some plays and poems long since 
 forgotten, is said to have had 'a pleasant mode of travelling.' 
 When the spring was somewhat advanced, and the roads had 
 become tolerably passable (MacAdam was as yet unthought 
 of). Sir Hildebrand and his servant 
 
 ' set ofif with a portmanteau, and without knowing whither they were 
 going. Towards evening, when they came to a village, they enquired 
 if the great man loved books and had a good library ; and if the 
 answer was in the afl&rmative. Sir Hildebrand sent his compliments, 
 that he was come to see him ; and then he used to stay till he was 
 disposed to move farther. In this manner he travelled through the 
 greatest part of England, scarcely ever sleeping at an inn, unless when 
 town or village did not afford one person civilised enough to be glad 
 to see a gentleman and a scholar. 'f 
 
 Squires of the latter class, whose bibliothkque, Hke that of 
 the Spanish Oura, lay for the most part in their cellars, must 
 have been frequently encountered ; but there seem to have 
 been ' civilised persons ' enough to make the travelling ' very 
 pleasant ; ' and, on the other hand, the solitude of the old hall, 
 or of the parsonage nestled among its elms, must have been 
 agreeably broken by the arrival of such a stranger. Never- 
 theless, modem travellers can hardly be advised to follow Sir 
 Hildebrand's example. The notification of their arrival and 
 intended visit would draw forth, it may be feared, unsatis- 
 
 * Quarterly Hemew, July, 1864 
 t Nichols, Litera/ry Anecdotes, ii. 61, note. 
 
TBAVELLING IN ENGLAND. 267 
 
 factory replies from the most civilised persons in these days. 
 English hospitality has changed its character with railways 
 and improved travelling, although it is probably far from true 
 that it has in any way diminished. 
 
 Such a traveller as Sir Hildebrand was, indeed, in his own 
 time, a rarity. The complaint that English people know httle 
 of their own country is, at least, as old as the days of Lord 
 Burleigh, who, when any one came to the Lords of the Council 
 for a licence to travel abroad, such as was then necessary, 
 ' would first examine him of England, and, if he found him igno- 
 rant, would bid him stay at home and know that countrey first.' 
 ' While I wander in foraigne history,' continues Peacham, who 
 tells the story in his ' Oompleat Gentleman' (1622), 
 
 ' let me wame you, ne sis peregrewus domi, that you bee not a stranger 
 in the history of your owne countrey, which is a common fault imputed 
 to our English traveUers in forreiae countries ; who, curious in the 
 observation and fiearch of the most memorable things and monuments 
 of other places, can say (as a great Peere of France told me) nothing 
 of their owne ; — our countrey of England being no whit inferior to 
 any other in the world for matter of antiquity and rarities of every 
 kind worthy remark and admiration.' 
 
 But in spite of Lord Burleigh's check and of Peacham's 
 advice, it is only of very late years that traveUing in England 
 has become at all general ; and it may be feared that, even 
 now, many a ' civilised person ' would be able to give a far 
 better account of the ' rarities ' of France or Italy than of those 
 close at home. Until the present century, indeed, a long 
 journey in England was no such easy matter; and in the 
 sixteenth and seventeenth (especially after the dissolution of 
 the monasteries) it offered, perhaps, more discomforts than 
 one on the Continent, although the ' diversoria ' may not 
 have been so full of dangers as those celebrated by Erasmus. 
 
 The most ancient notes of a traveller in England which 
 remain to us are those of William Botoner, better known as 
 William of Worcester, who (notwithstanding his name, which 
 
268 TEAVELLING 
 
 he inherited from his father) was born in Bristol about the 
 year 1415. He was educated at Oxford, mainly at the 
 expense of Sir John Fastolfe, of Caistor, in Norfolk, whose 
 squire he afterwards became, and whose life he wrote. 
 Some specimens of his correspondence with Sir John Fastolfe 
 occur among the Fasten Letters. His ' Itinerary ' is pre- 
 served in the library of Corpus Ohristi College, Cambridge, 
 and was printed in 1778. It contains notes on his pilgrimage 
 from Ware, in Hertfordshire, to St. Michael's Mount in Corn- 
 wall, and of various other journeys in the south of England ; 
 descriptions of Bristol and the adjoining country ; scraps 
 about the Fastolfes and their castle ; and various historical 
 notes, inserted almost at random. The whole is very brief 
 and confused ; but, besides the especial interest belonging to 
 any work of a learned layman in the fifteenth century, 
 the ' Itinerary ' preserves dimensions and measurements of 
 churches, castles, and other buildings, the value of which 
 has long been recognized by archaeologists. It is not easy 
 to discover even a hint of the picturesque in William of 
 Worcester ; yet we follow with some curiosity the record 
 of his ten days' ride from Ware to the great Cornish shrine j 
 and those at least who know the country are pleased to 
 learn how 'jantavit' — he breakfasted — ^among the Canons of 
 Crediton, and then proceeded by rough roads (a day's journey, 
 although little more than fifteen miles — so that we must 
 suppose the Bordeaux of the Canons to have been unusually 
 attractive) to Okehampton, where he found shelter in the 
 stronghold of the Courtenays, the ruined walls of which still 
 hang so picturesquely over the moufttain-stream. From 
 Okehampton, Master William journeyed over ' le moore 
 vocat. Dertmoore ' to the guest-hall of the Benedictines at 
 Tavistock, where, if the annals of the house speak trnej he 
 was sure to find good venison of the red-deer, and no lack 
 of its necessary accompaniments. It is this progress from 
 
IN ENGLAND. 269/i 
 
 college to casile and from castle to monastery wMch gives 
 such a marked distinction to William's 'Itinerary,' and to 
 that of his successor, Leland. Both travellers show us some- 
 thing of the true old England ; although great changes had 
 taken place between the time of William's journeys, made 
 just before the outbreak of the Wars of the Roses, and those 
 of Leland, when the storm had already broken over the great 
 religious houses. 
 
 The ' Itinerary' of Leland, first printed by the laborious 
 Hearne, who ' drove the spiders ' from so ' much prose and 
 rhyme,' embraces nearly the whole of England. It is infi- 
 nitely fuller and more 'exact than the short notes of William 
 of Worcester, and it calls for especial notice as the first great 
 survey of the island, to which such writers as Harrison, 
 Drayton, and even Camden were confessedly much indebted. 
 John Leland (or Ley land, as the name was spelt by himself) 
 was born in London towards the end of the reign of Henry 
 VII., and, after his first education in St. Paul's School, 
 under the famous Lily, he spent some time at the Univer- 
 sities of Oxford, Cambridge, and Paris — in all of which his 
 reputation for learning was considerable. Henry VIII. 
 made him one of his chaplains, gave him the rectory of 
 Poperinghen in the march of Calais, and appointed him 
 royal librarian and antiquary. It is clear that Leland had 
 embraced the new doctrine at a very early period ; but his 
 zeal for religious reform, which we need not suppose to have 
 been excessive, did not prevent him from feeling deep regret 
 at the ' havoc of manuscripts and all ancient monuments of 
 learning ' caused by the dissolution of the monasteries, and 
 by the changes and troubles of the preceding years. The 
 lesser religious houses were dissolved in 1536. Three years 
 before, Leland had received a commission under the Great 
 Seal, entitling him, 'upon vft-y just considerations, .... 
 to peruse and diligently to search all the libraries of monas- 
 
270 TEAVELLING 
 
 teries and colleges ' throngliout the realm. The passing of 
 
 the Act in 1536 must have shown him that no time was to 
 
 be lost ; and he set forth accordingly in that year on a series 
 
 of journeys which lasted until 1542 or 1543. When he 
 
 began his 'Itinerary,' the lesser houses were in course of 
 
 surrender. Long before he had completed it, the greater 
 
 monasteries (suppressed in 1539) had also fallen ; and thus, 
 
 in the course of his wanderings, Leland must have witnessed 
 
 — more completely, perhaps, than any other person of his 
 
 age — the greatest external change brought about by the 
 
 Reformation. In his ' Newe Yeare's Gifte to King Henry 
 
 the VIII.' — a short account of his labours offered to the 
 
 King in 1546 — he says that, after a long study of English 
 
 historians — 
 
 'After that I had perpendid the honest and profitable studies of 
 these Histoiiographes, I was totally enflanunid with a love to see 
 thoroughly al those partes of this your opulente and ample Beaulme, 
 that I had redde of yn the aforesaid writers ; ynsomuch that, al my 
 other occupations intermitted, I have so traveUd yn yowr Dominions, 
 booth by the Se Costes and the middle partes, sparing nother labor 
 nor costes, by the space of these vi yeres paste, that there ys almost 
 nother Cape nor Bay, Haven, Creke, or Peere, River or Confluence 
 of rivers, Breches, Waschis, Lakes, Meres, Fenny Waters, Montaynes, 
 Valleis, Mores, Hethes, Forestes, Chases, Wooddes, Cities, Burges, 
 Castelles, principale Manor Placis, Monasteries and Colleges, but I 
 have scene them ; and notid yn so doing a hole worlde of thinges very 
 memorable.'* 
 
 During his travels, Leland made large collections from the 
 
 monastic libraries ; and he retired to his house in the parish 
 
 of St. Michael-le-Querne, in order to digest them, and to 
 
 prepare the books and maps which he promises in his letter 
 
 to the King. But from whatever cause — (the Romanist Pits, 
 
 whom Fuller calls the ' idle drone stealing all,' asserts that it 
 
 arose from his having degenerated from the 'ancient religion') 
 
 — Leland became insane, and so remained until his death in 
 
 1552. Sir John Cheke, imder the direction of King Edward 
 
 * Itinerary, vol. L, introd., p. isii. 
 
IN ENGLAND. 271 
 
 VI., took possession of his manuscripts, which, after passing 
 through many hands, came at last to the Bodleian, among 
 the treasures of which great library they still remain. Both 
 the 'Itinerary' and the 'Collectanea' (extracts and notes 
 from various MSS.) were edited by Hearne in the early 
 part of the last century. 
 
 It is scarcely possible to rate too highly the value of 
 Leland's 'Itinerary.' The notes of which it consists were 
 made no doubt during each journey, and nearly in the shape 
 in which we now have them ; and, rough and brief as they 
 are, often breaking off just at the point where we should be 
 glad of some special bit of description, they have about 
 them — at least to the acute perception of an Oldbuck — the 
 great interest which belongs to the first adventure in a 
 novel branch of inquiry. No one before Leland had passed 
 through England, merely for the sake of making himself 
 acquainted with the face of the coimtry, with its antiquities, 
 and with the literary treasures reposing in its monastic 
 libraries. His ' Itinerary ' was in every sense a sign of the 
 times, just as Leland himself represents the special anti- 
 quarian spirit developed by the B«formation. Such a series 
 of journeys was then, perhaps, only possible in England. No 
 other country, at all events, possesses anything so early or so 
 complete as the ' Itinerary.' The ' Voyages Litteraires' of the 
 French Benedictines belong to the seventeenth and eight- 
 eenth centuries, and their researches were greatly limited. 
 But Leland, as he rode sometimes ' by a mile on Fosse,' 
 sometimes ' by woodes on Watling Strete,' by ' brokettes ' 
 and ' praty low meddows,' or ' al by champayn, corne, and 
 gresse,' rode as geographer no less than as antiquary, and 
 almost as discoverer in a little known country. Nothing like 
 an accurate map of an English county was then in existence. 
 He describes accordingly, and as minutely as possible, the 
 courses of the rivers, with their fords and bridges, the 
 
272 TEA YELLING 
 
 positions and aspects of the havens and ' havenets,' the lines 
 
 of the great roads, and the general face of the country. His 
 
 admiration is reserved for such rich land as he saw between 
 
 Exeter and Crediton — 'exceeding fair — corn, gresse, and 
 
 wood.' The dales and mountains of Northern England, or 
 
 the Cornish rocks and headlands, were as yet biding their 
 
 time ; and although Leland climbed the 'high terrible cragge' 
 
 of Tintagel, and seems even to have visited the ' Islettes of 
 
 Scilly,' his record of them is very brief and unsatisfactory: — 
 
 ' These high wild hills, and rough uneven ways, 
 Draw out our miles, and make them wearisome.' 
 
 He describes, indeed, the great ' plenty ' of Scilly, — ' gresse,' 
 ' good pasture,' corn, and conies ; but he would have written 
 somewhat differently, could he have seen its existing marvels, 
 its thickets of fuchsia and scarlet geranium, its aloes and its 
 palm-trees ; and, above all, its herd of ostriches, which fol- 
 lowed in the wake of their late master as he welcomed the 
 stranger to his solitary island. 
 
 Between the death of Leland in 1552, and the publication 
 of the first edition of Camden's ' Britannia ' in 1586, English 
 topography had made a considerable advance. Carew of 
 Anthony had written his ' Survey of Cornwall,' although it 
 was not printed until the beginning of the next century ; and 
 Lambarde, in 1570, had 'set forth' his 'Perambulation of Kent,' 
 the first complete description of an English county. Both 
 Lambarde and Carew ranked among the friends of Camden : 
 but it was the Flemish geographer Orteliu?, author of the 
 first Atlas, or collection of maps (which had hitherto been 
 published singly by their several constructors), who per- 
 suaded him to undertake the general description of his 
 country — ^a work of no small difficulty and labour. The 
 ' Britannia'' went through five editions before Camden's death 
 in 1623 ; and the commendations of the learned,"*both in 
 England and on the Continent, were loud and general. He 
 
IN ENGLAND. 273 
 
 was accused, indeed, of having used Leland's Manuscripts 
 without acknowledgement ; but whilst in his defence he 
 admits that he had read them, and had cited them when 
 necessary, he asserts that he had himself gone over much 
 of the same ground, and had made his own observations. 
 If Leland, he says, had spent five years in such studies, he 
 had spent thirty. It was to Leland, no doubt, that Harrison 
 was chiefly indebted in compiling the ' Description of 
 Britaine ' prefixed to Hollinshed's ' Chronicle.' Both Leland 
 and Camden must have supplied much of the material for 
 Drayton's ' Polyolbion,' the first part of which was written 
 before 1598, though not published before 1613. 
 
 The troubles of the seventeenth century interfered not a little 
 with peaceful travellers. Puller, whose book of ' Worthies ' 
 was compiled during the height of the Civil War, and often, 
 as at Basing House, under the very guns of the combatants, 
 was somewhat of an enforced wanderer ; and although his 
 descriptions of the several counties are generally as accurate 
 as they are quaint, they are too brief to give us much topo- 
 graphical information ; and, indeed, his object was of a dif- 
 ferent character. In the early part of the next century we 
 again encounter a thoroughrpaced topographer — ^if, indeed, 
 we may not fairly regard him ^^as the earliest type of the 
 modern tourist. This is Dr. William Stukeley, a member of 
 an old Lincolnshire family, who, after settling for some time as 
 a physician in his native county, removed to London, and, 
 when upwards of forty, was ordained by Archbishop Wake. 
 His taste for antiquities had been early developed ; but it 
 was his gout that made him an antiquarian tourist. This 
 confined him to the house throughout the winter. To shake 
 off its effects and to recover his strength he set out with 
 the spring on his * Itinera,' the first object of which was ' to 
 trace out the footsteps of Caesar's expedition on this island.' 
 The results of his wanderings he gave to the world in the 
 
 18 
 
274 TRAYELLING 
 
 'Itinerarium Curiosum,' and lihe ' Iter Boreale.' Lord Chan- 
 cellor King gave him tibe living of All Saints in Stamford, 
 to which the Duke of Montague added the Rectory of St. 
 Greorge's, Queen Square. Those were not days of eccle- 
 siastical rigour ; and Stukeley retired from both livings to 
 Kentish Town, where he wrote his ' Stonehenge ' and ' Ca- 
 rausius,' and where a numerous assembly of well-wigged 
 antiquaries gathered round the 'Arch-Druid of his Age,' as 
 he was called, from his proficiency in what was then entitled 
 ' Druidical History.' 
 
 To see how Stukeley set forth on his expeditions we have 
 only to turn our eyes on the plates which illustrate his ' Itine^ 
 rarium.' There we behold the adventurous Doctor, mounted 
 on his long-tailed steed, in all the glories of Ramillies wig and 
 three-cornered hat, daring the ford below Crowland Bridge, 
 inspecting King John's palace at Clarendon, recreating him- 
 self with a game at bowls under the shadow of the "Whit© 
 Friars at Gloucester, mountiag by what seems a sufficiently 
 rough road toward the crest of Wansdyke, journeying along 
 the ridge of the Fosse toward ' Ad Pontem ' or ' Margidunum,' 
 or seated on the cliffs of Beer, and sketching what he held 
 to be ' Moridunum,' the Seaton of modern sea-bathers. His 
 various ' Itinera ' are addressed to different friends, many of 
 whom were his companions' on the road. They were not 
 ' whoUy a hunting after fresh air with the vulgar citizens, but 
 an examination into the works of nature and of past ages,' 
 tp the first of which classes we must assign his description of 
 the fair sex at Exeter : — 
 
 ' The peopl are industrious and courteous ; the fair sex are truly so, 
 as well as numerous. Their complexions, and generally their hair 
 likewise, fair. They are genteel, disengag'd, .of easy carriage, and 
 good mien.' 
 
 Stukeley's peculiar spelling is to be noticed. ' Anything,' 
 he says, 'that assists or amuses travellers is most highly 
 
IN ENGLAND. , 275 
 
 commendabl ;' and Ms eccentricities in this way undoubtedly 
 amuse those who travel through his folio. On the whole, the 
 value of his Itinera may fairly be admitted. They preserve 
 notices of much that has long since passed from us ; and they 
 led the way for the researches of a tourist of far wider range, 
 Thomas Pennant. ' Sir,' said Johnson, of Pennant, ' he had 
 greater variety of enquiry than almost any man, and has told 
 us more than perhaps one in ten thousand could have done in 
 the time that he took.' 
 
 Pennant, who was born in 1726j was a naturalist before 
 he became an antiquary or a topographer. But he made 
 a tour in Cornwall before he was twenty ; and ten years 
 afterwards passed through much of Ireland, where, he tells 
 us, 'such was the conviviality of the country, that my journal 
 proved as maigre as my entertainment was gras, — so it never 
 was a dish to be offered to the public* His first published 
 tour was the record of a journey, in 1769, into Scotland, 
 then, in his own words, ' as little known as Kamtschatka.' 
 Pennant's description was received favourably, and read with 
 much eagerness ; and it was partly owing to the interest 
 it had excited that Johnson was induced to undertake his 
 famous tour in 1773. Pennant had already made (1772) ' 
 a second expedition to Scotland. The results of this were 
 published in 1775 ; and there followed, at intervals. Tours 
 in Wales, Journeys from Chester to London, along the 
 South Coast, and elsewhere. All were performed on horse- 
 back, since the tourist considered ' the absolute resignation of 
 one's person to the luxury of a carriage to forbode a very 
 short interval between that and the vehicle which is to convey 
 us to our last stage.' 
 
 Whilst Pennant (1769) was daring all the unknown 
 dangers of the Highlands, the poet Gray (who already, in 
 1765, four years before Pennant's first visit, had visited Lord 
 Strathmore at Grlamis Castle, returning by Killiecrankie and 
 
276 TEAVELLING 
 
 Blair Athole, and declares that 'since he saw the Alps he had 
 seen nothing sublime till now,') was visiting the English 
 lakes, passing under and wondering at ' that huge creature 
 of God, Ingleborough,' and penetrating the terrific chasm of 
 Gordale. ' I stayed there,' he says, ' not without shuddering, 
 a quarter of an hour, and thought my trouble richly paid, for 
 the impression wiU last with life.' Something of this sen- 
 sibility to the grander and ruder scenery of the North is 
 to be found in Pennant ; and it is interesting to compare his 
 Scottish tours with the ' I^etters ' of the Englishman, Burt, 
 who was employed in the Highlands during the construction 
 of the great military road (between 1715 and 1745), and 
 whose only impression of the scenery which surrounded him 
 was one of horror and disgust. Pennant's admiration of 
 mountain and torrent is very different | although it nowhere 
 becomes the ' feeling and the love ' that is manifest in the let- 
 ters of Gray, who is, perhaps, to be regarded as the first of 
 that ' romantic school ' of tourists which has only grown into 
 decided pronjipence during the present century. But even 
 Gray is hardly so much the father of modern tourists as his 
 contemporary and early friend, Horace Walpole. Just as the 
 seeds of Gothic revival lay in Strawberry HiU, and those of 
 Ivanhoe and Kenilworth in the Castle of Dtranto, the germ 
 of the modern tour lies in those adventurous expeditions in 
 search of ' castles, and abbeys, .^nd ruins,' of which the de- 
 hghtful records remain in the letters to Bentley and Montagu. 
 Adventurous they must in truth have been to a traveller of 
 Walpole's fastidiousness. He tells of 'piteous distresses,*^ 
 bedchambers ' stinking of tobacco like a justice of peace,' 
 'a sugar-dish of hot water in a pe^^ter plate' brought to 
 make his tea ; deep Sussex roads, ' great quenchers of curi- 
 osity,' through which he had tj labour in the dark; frequent 
 upsets, and occasional encounters with fierce divines and un-r 
 courteous stewards. The excursions of Walpole and of Gray 
 
IN ENGLAND. 277 
 
 have, like tihe journeys of Leland, though in a somewhat 
 different manner, the charm of discovery. There were no 
 guide-books to point out the great views, or to catalogue the 
 antiquarian treasures scattered throughout the country. In 
 the remotest village church which Walpole entered he might 
 hope to find some unknown and neglected monument, in itself 
 an illustration of EngL'sh history, just as in the adjoining hall 
 or manor-house he might discover some Holbein" consigned to 
 a garret, or (as at Hurstmonceaux) some St. Catherine in 
 stained glass ' banished to a window in the buttery.' Such 
 possibilities as these have loag passed away. There are few 
 English churches whose * memorials of piety in brass and 
 stone' are not well known a;nd cared for, and few old houses 
 whose ancient treasures have riot been sought out and restored 
 to positions of honour — thanks to the love of antiquarian 
 study first made fashionable by Walpole. We can no longer 
 set forth as discoverers; but whilst travelling in England 
 was nevei* so easy, the means of real benefit by such travel 
 were never' more completely within the reach of all classes. 
 What then is this real benefit? and what is the heritage 
 into which we may thus enter, if we choose ? 
 
 There is no comer of England without its interest. To 
 use Fuller's words'^— though in a somewhat different sense-^- 
 ' Some shires, Joseph-like, have a better-coloured coat than 
 others; and some, with Benjamin, have a more bountiful 
 mess of meat belonging unto them. Yet every county hath 
 a child's portion, as if God in some sort observed gavel-kind 
 in the distribution of His favours.'* Whatever ' things to be 
 seen and observed ' are pointed out by Lord Bacon in his 
 Essay on Travel, are to be found in our own country not less 
 noteworthy and not less fiiU of instruction than on the Con- 
 tinent; and to Lord Bacon's Hst must now be added natural 
 scenery, the love for which, and the search after it, are 
 * Worthies, chap, ii. 
 
278 TRAVELLING 
 
 developments of recent date, often, it is true, affected and 
 unreal, yet, on the whole, of so great and general influence, 
 that had there been in King James's days anything like the 
 existing passion for mountain and torrent, the Essay on 
 Travel would have contained some pregnant words on the 
 matter. There are, of course, certain classes of scenery — 
 the grander and more subhme — ^to study which in perfection 
 we must go out of Engalnd ; but it is probable that many a 
 traveller in search of the picturesque, who allows himself to 
 be hurried through the defiles of the Saxon Switzerland, or 
 to be dragged along .the passes of the Tyrol, would obtain 
 as much enjoyment, see as much that would be new to him, 
 and would assuredly find himself on a far less beaten track, if 
 he confined himself to his own country ; following leisurely 
 some such route as the line of the Sussex Downs, full of the 
 most romantic nooks and recesses, and rich in all kinds of 
 antiquarian relics ; or penetrating day by day the long wind- 
 ings of, the Yorkshire dales, wild districts as yet for the most 
 part unconscious of the railway whistle. Before enlarging 
 _on this subject, however, it will be well to note what is a 
 greater — ^if not the greatest — advantage to be derived from 
 English travel — ^the strong light which may be thrown by it 
 on the events of English history, and the reality which it 
 may be made to give to the words and descriptions of chro- 
 nicler and historian. ' Original records' — we quote the words 
 of Dean Stanley, whose own writings are the best possible 
 illustrations of his teaching — 
 
 ' are not confined merely to contemporaneous histories, nor even to 
 contemporaneous literature — sermons, poems, laws, decrees. Study 
 the actual statues and portraits of the men, the sculptures and pictures 
 of the events : if they do not give us the precise image of the persons 
 aiid things themselves, they give us, at least, the image left on those 
 who came nearest to them. Study their monuments, their grave- 
 stones, their epitaphs, on the spots where they lie. Study, if possible, 
 the scenes of the events, their aspect, their architecture, their geo- 
 graphy ; the tradition which has survived the history, the legend 
 
IN ENGLAND. 279 
 
 ■which has survived the tradition ; the mountain, the stream, the 
 shapeless stone, Trhich has survived even history and tradition and 
 legend.'* 
 
 Surely, if the knowledge to be gained by such study — know- 
 ledge whicli in travel flows in so easily and so fast — deserves 
 to rank among the most valuable results of a foreign tour, 
 that which ought to come to us from a well-planned English 
 tour should be all the more valuable in proportion as a know- 
 ledge of English history is more important for us than that of 
 any other country. 
 
 Unless the eyes are resolutely closed, something must be 
 gained in this way from any tour. But it is well to seek 
 such knowledge specially ; and it is hardly possible to ima- 
 gine a more efficient or a more pleasant mode of imparting 
 historical instruction to the yoimg than a series of ' field lec- 
 tures ' — to borrow a term from the geologists — in a sugges- 
 tive district. Some materials, indeed, may always be found 
 at no great distance from our own doors, and there are of 
 course especial advantages in the study of the coimfy in which 
 the home may be situated. There is hardly one that would 
 not afford a series of illustrations running through the whole 
 course of English history, such as would give wonderful life 
 and interest to the lessons of the school-room. Or let the 
 summer tour extend through such a tract of country as that 
 along the south coast, — from Kent into Hampshire, or further, 
 into Devonshire and Cornwall. In such scenery as is truly 
 characteristic of England — rich, green, and tranquil ; mingled 
 with much that is wilder and bolder, among granite tors and 
 chalk uplands ; and in a coast-line of the most varied beauty 
 — this tract is almost unrivalled ; and there is hardly another 
 in which places and relics directly connected with the great 
 events of English history are so closely packed or so- easily 
 accessible. Unlike most parts of the Continent, where the 
 * ' On the Study of Ecclesiastical History,' Lecture ii. 
 
280 TEAVELLING 
 
 country between one great town and another has so often 
 been swept clear of ancient relics, and where even the village 
 churches have generally been stripped of interest, it is difficult 
 to move for the shortest distance through either Kent or 
 Sussex without encountering some memorial of bygone days, 
 often more important and more interesting than those within 
 shelter of the town-walls. This wealth of the open country in 
 England results from the absence of causes which have devas- 
 tated the Continent — ^long wars and invading armies. Even 
 in the days of Cromwell's troopers few English manor-houses 
 were destroyed, and few ancestral treasures were injured. 
 Time and neglect have here done far more than intentional 
 violence. 
 
 Taking, tJien, such a tract as this, ot some portion of it, let 
 us see what lessons it may be made to give, and in what 
 order they should be read. Some of the southern counties 
 are^ of course, richer in antiquities of a special period than 
 others. Cornwall, for example, is the land of the cromlech 
 and stone circle, and of all those mysterious relics belonging 
 to a remote, probably pre-historic age. The great camps and 
 earthworks of a later period are best seen in Dorsetshire and 
 on the Hampshire border. Kent, again, is rich in castles and 
 in remains of domestic architecture ; and so with the rest. 
 But, on the whole, Kent and Sussex contain a greater num- 
 ber of antiquities of all periods than the counties farther west, 
 and the attention may well for the present be confined to them. 
 Both counties are pierced by railways in every direction, so 
 that the various places of interest are readily accessible, either 
 in the course of a long tour or by shorter excursions of a day 
 or two. 
 
 The history of our own country may almost be said to have 
 begun in Kent. The period, at all events, before Caesar's 
 landing is enveloped in so much mist and obscurity — mist 
 which had become denser and more dense under the treat- 
 
IN ENGLAND. 281 
 
 ment of the elder antiquaries — ^ihat it would hardly be safe to 
 dwell long upon it, even in a ' field lecture.' Yet we can 
 scarcely believe that a visit to the hill-side above the Medway 
 on which ' Kits Ooity House ' stands, would not give some 
 kind of reality to even that misty period. The vague mystery 
 in which it is enveloped is at least felt more powerfully within 
 sight of that ancient tomb-chamber and of the venerable yews 
 which here and there darken the hill, — relics of the wood 
 which in far-off days spread all over it. The impression thus 
 gained will bepome yet stronger if we trace the less distinct 
 but quite as interesting remains — all of them sepulchral — 
 which extend over the ground below Kits Ooity House, and 
 which are said to have been connected with another large 
 group of cromlechs and circles in the parish of Addington, at 
 least six miles distant. Whatever be their date, they are at 
 least pre-Roman; and the visitor may be sure that he is look- 
 ing on the tombs of a powerful tribe which held this part of the 
 island at some time — it may have been long ages — before the 
 oars of Caesar's galleys flashed in the sunshine as they crossed 
 the strait towards Britain. Here, however, we are without 
 doubt in a land of uncertainty. To many the more positive 
 relics of the Roman period will convey a clearer sense of 
 antiquity, and will enable them to grasp more definitely 
 the distance — ^the long stretch of centuries — which separates 
 us from those early days. And in these Kent and Sussex 
 are especially rich. Following the line of the ancient Wat- 
 ling Street, the Roman road which led from ihe sea towards 
 London, and which is bordered here and there by chestnut 
 copses and cherry orchards — Roman importations, both of 
 them — ^we make our way from Aylesford and Kits Coity 
 House to Richborough, near Sandwich ; where, overhanging 
 the sea and the harbour, in which many a tall trireme once 
 rested, the massive walls of Rutupiae, the Roman fortress that 
 guarded the shore, are still mouldering. The ground within 
 
282 TRAVELLING 
 
 the walls is strewn with tiles and broken pottery; in the walls 
 themselves the large flat bonding tiles are visible at due 
 intervals ; and the whole scene takes ns back at once nearly 
 fifteen hundred years, to the days of the gteat StUicho, the last 
 of the Bomans who put this island into an effectual state of 
 defence, and who, it has been suggested with the greatest pro- 
 bability, may have left his mark on the ruin we here behold. 
 Rome and Roman Britain, the power of Rome and the 
 long sweep of her arm, become wonderful realities after we 
 have once looked on such a relic as this ; and the Montanus 
 of Juvenal, the gastronome who could distinguish by their 
 flavour oysters dredged from this, Rutupine strait and carried 
 hence to Rome — 
 
 ' Circeis nata forent, an 
 
 Lucrimim ad saxum, Rutupinove edita fundo 
 Ostrea, callebat primo deprendere morsu ' — * 
 
 starts into far distincter life when we come upon him after- 
 wards in the pages of the great satirist. 
 
 Richborough has other and not less interesting associa- 
 tions; for it was here that St. Augustine landed, when, after 
 his first interview with Ethelbert, he obtained leave to ad- 
 vance by the Watling Street to Canterbury. But we are at 
 present in the world of Roman Britain ; and if the tourist 
 stiU desire to remain in it, he may proceed along the Kentish 
 shore (having in sight all the way, across the strait, the old 
 country of the Morini, from which Osfesar set out for Britain, 
 and speculating on the place of his arrival, which, in spite 
 of Mr. Lewin and the Astronomer Royal, most antiquaries 
 are still inclined to fix at Deal) until he reaches Dover, with 
 
 * Sat. iv. 140. A friend who visited Tusculum in 1859, while 
 excavations were in progress at the vUla which is commonly called 
 Cicero's, but is said to have been more probably that of Tiberius, 
 saw some oyster-shells turned up, which were unlike those of the 
 Mediterranean, and which in all probability had been brought from 
 our own coast. 
 
IN ENGLAND. 283 
 
 its ancient pharos, and Lymne, the ' Portus Lemanis ' of the 
 Itineraries, where massive walls and blocks of ruin, only less 
 striking than those of Richborough, mark the site of another 
 of those strong fortresses which, imder the disposition of the 
 Counts of the Saxon shore, protected the southern and eastern 
 coasts during the later Roman period, and formed the germ 
 of the Corporation of the Cinque Ports. Or he may advance 
 still farther into Sussex, where, at Pevensey, he will find the 
 Roman walls of Anderida still nearly thirty feet in height, 
 forming the outer court of a mediaeval castle. And perhaps 
 most striking of all, and most instructive to the young 
 student, if properly examined and explained, an excursion 
 may be undertaken across the downs to the Roman villa at 
 Bi^or. Here the mosaic pavements of the different apart- 
 ments, with their gladiators and their, heads of gods and 
 goddesses, speak plainly enough of the refinement and 
 policy of the old masters of the world, who in this way, as in 
 so many others, introduced the arts of Rome among the 
 remote Britons. The arrangement and ground-plan of a 
 large Roman villa may be well seen here ; and although the 
 mosaics are by no means equal either in execution or in 
 richness of material to those of Corinium (Cirencester), 
 or of Woodbourne in Gloucestershire, they are scarcely less 
 impressive, and are quite as powerful in rolling back for us 
 the stream of time. It may be true, as Horace Walpole 
 complained long ago, that sudb Roman remains as exist in 
 our island, and are firom time to time brought to light, are 
 poor and of small value, compared with those found in Italy 
 itself. But each one of them tells its own story ; each does 
 its part towards illustrating the history of the great Empire ; 
 and we are sure that a visit to some Roman town or villa — 
 (besides those of Kent and Sussex, especial mention may be 
 made of such sites as Uriconium (Wroxeter) in Shropshire, 
 or Isurium (Aldborough) in Yorkshire, rich in antiquities of 
 
284 
 
 TBAVELLING 
 
 all kinds, and still showing traces of Eoman chariot-wheels 
 on their venerable pavements)^— whose relics are over- 
 shadowed by English oaks and beeches, will often leave a far 
 stronger impression than even a day spent among the ruins 
 of Pompeii or in the wealthiest museum of Italy. Eoman 
 relics in England belong to our own history. 
 
 It is not necessary'in this place to break a lance in defence 
 of the Saxon Chronicle and of the historical arrival of Hengist 
 and Horsa on the coast of Thanet in the middle of the fifth 
 century. The whole question may safely be left in the hands 
 of Mr. Freeman and of Dr. Gruest, who, in his Essay on the 
 ' Early English Settlements in South Britain,' * has at least 
 shown that it is not to be decided in so summary a fashion as has 
 of late years been usual. But with whatever feeHngs we may 
 look on Pegwell Bay, where the landing is said to have taken 
 place, we find ourselves surrounded by relics of our Saxon 
 ancestors, about which there can be no unqertainty, when we 
 climb the hill of Osengall, which rises above it. The whole 
 of this hill is honeycombed with the graves of the first 
 Teutonic (Jutish?) Settlers in Thanet. It had been, to all 
 appearance, a Roman cemetery before the Saxons arrived ; 
 and graves in which the interment had been made in a 
 decidedly Roman manner have been found here side by side 
 with others in which the Saxons, still heathens, had been 
 buried with their arms and personal ornamentsi The relics 
 which have been discovered at Osengall are widely dispersed ; 
 but the hill itself will repay a visit, and would be one of the 
 best possible sites for a field lecture which should embrace the 
 whole story of the arrival of the Saxons and their subsequent 
 conversion to Christianity. Below it extends the bay, to 
 which (whatever reality we may assign to Hengist) many a 
 ' ciule ' must have stretched across from the shores of Friez- 
 land, bearing the chief and his followers, who were to find 
 
 * Printed in the Salisbury volume of the Archaeological Institute. 
 
IN ENGLAND. 285 
 
 here a new home and a last resting-place. On the hill itself 
 are their graves. Below are Ebbs-fleet, now a farm in the 
 marshes, but then a narrow promontory between the bay and 
 the Stour, where St. Augustine and the Christian missiona- 
 ries first landed ; and Richborough, with other memorials of 
 them. The high ground inland is the scene of the famou s 
 meeting of Ethelbert and of Augustine ; and far in the 
 distance rise the towers of Canterbury Cathedral. Tas 
 entire history, with its results, is here suggested to us ; and 
 if, while still fresh from the hUls of Thanet, the tourist 
 should proceed to the little church of St. Martin at Canter- 
 bury — granted by Ethelbert to Angustine, and in which the 
 English King was baptized — the story of the conversion 
 would assume such life and reality as not even the study of 
 Dean Stanley's Essay would otherwise give to it. 
 
 Saxon memorials of various kinds are, of course, scattered 
 throughout Kent and Sussex, and our heathen ancestors 
 have left traces of their religion on many a green mound and 
 many a bit of lingering forest. All are worth, and all will 
 repay, examination. But we must hasten onward, and again 
 leaving Kent, fix ourselves on the Sussex shore, where we 
 may study at leisure the memorials of the great battle which 
 transferred England to the rule of the Normans. Hastings 
 and Pevensey should both be visited ; for the disembarkation 
 of the Conqueror's fleet (600 vessels) no doubt extended 
 along the whole coast between them, and it was at Pevensey 
 that William himself came ashore. But the central point of 
 interest is, of course, the great abbey, a careful examination 
 of the country about which will readily explain the whole 
 course of the battle. The ridge marking the lin3 of the 
 
 * At Saire, in this neighbourhood, some very interesting excavations 
 have been made ; and the objects discovered have been partly deposited 
 in the British Museum, and partly in that of the Kentish Archaeological 
 Association at Maidstone. See a paper with illustrations, by Mr. Brent, 
 F.S.A., in the Archceohgiea Gcmtiana, vol. v. 
 
286 TEAVBLLING 
 
 Conqueror's advance from Hastings ; Hethebrand, the place 
 where he and his knights armed, where his standard was 
 raised, and where he vowed to build on the field, if he should 
 be victorious, an abbey, in which prayer should always be 
 made for the souls of the slain ; Senlac, the ground over 
 which the battle chiefly raged, now for the most part covered 
 by the village of Battle ; the Malfosse, or morass, in which so 
 many English and Normans perished ; and the little rivulet 
 Asten — 
 
 ' once distained with native English blood, 
 
 Whose soil yet, when but wet with any little rain, 
 Doth blush, as put in mind of those there sadly slain,'* 
 
 may all be made out from the raised terrace in front of the 
 abbey, whence, in the distance, Beaehy, the English headland 
 which first greeted the Conqueror as he neared the coast, is 
 also visible. And, turning to the abbey itself, we know that 
 the eastern apse of the church, at or close to which was the 
 place of the high altar, was the spot where the English standard 
 was raised, and where Harold himself fell. On that altar 
 WiUiam offered the sword he had carried in the battle and 
 the robe worn at his coronation. All the mjnute details of 
 the battle, which the chroniclers have preserved, have been 
 illustrated and explained with a most thorough knowledge of 
 all the localities by Mr. Lower ; f and it is with a singular > 
 feeling of interest that we find ourselves, with his help, tracing 
 on the spot, with hardly less certainty and minuteness than 
 
 * Drayton, Polyolbimi,. 
 
 t Mr. Lower's paper will be found in his Contributions to Literature 
 (1854). He is also the translator of the Chronicle of Battle Abbey, 
 from 1066 to 1176. (Since this Essay was written, Mr. Freeman's 
 History of the Normam, Conqiiest has appearedj the third volume of 
 which contains descriptions of the landing of William, and of the 
 battle of Senlac, which, it need hardly be said, are by far the most 
 minute, life-like, and accurate of any that exist.) 
 
IN ENGLAND. 287 
 
 we should be able to bring to the battle-fields of Vittoria or 
 Talavera, the events of the most momentous struggle which 
 the soil of England has ever witnessed. Even if no more 
 substantial memorials of the Conqueror's abbey remained 
 than the ' few foundation-stones in the midst of a swamp ' — 
 by which, as Dr. Lappenberg, with strange error, asserts 
 ' we are alone able to determine the spot where it once reared 
 its towers and pinnacles'* — the main features of the country, 
 still unchanged, would be sufficiently attractive; but much of 
 the existing building recalls the splendour and state in which 
 the ' token and pledge of the royal crown,' as the abbey was 
 called by its monks, continued until the dissolution; and the 
 Conqueror himself becomes considerably less of a shadow as 
 we stand on the scene of his victory and within the walls that 
 commemorated it. There are few spots in England more 
 interesting. 
 
 ReUcs which more or less directly illustrate the history of 
 our country become so numerous, and are so thickly strewn 
 throughout Kent and Sussex, after passing the period of the 
 Conquest, that we are fairly puzzled by an 'embarras des 
 richesses.' But to follow up with the greatest advantage the 
 historical tour which has been proposed, the student should 
 next be led to Canterbury Cathedral, thronged with remem- 
 brances of almost every rei^ in English history. ' There is 
 no church, no place in the kingdom,' says Dean Stanley, 
 ' with the exception of Westminster Abbey, that is so closely 
 connected "with the history of our country.' But the archi- 
 tecture of the Cathedral — of various dates and of strongly 
 marked character — is itself an historical monument, or rather 
 a series of monuments. Its architectural history has been 
 traced by Professor Willis, in his admirable work on the 
 subject, through all the successive stages of the building. 
 
 * Englcmd imder the Anglo-Saxon Kings, vol. ii. p. 302 (English 
 translation). 
 
288 TBAVELLING 
 
 The remarkable Transition work of tte choir takes us back 
 to the latter years of the twelfth century, the years (1174- 
 1184) which immediately followed the murder (1170) and 
 the subsequent burning of the ' glorious choir of Conrad.' It 
 is all later than Becket's own time,* yet there is not a stone 
 which does not in some way speak of him. No doubt the 
 cost of the new choir was mainly defrayed by offerings which 
 poured in at the tomb of the new saint; and it was these very 
 piers and arches that looked down on the solemn procession 
 — such, we are told, as had never been seen in England 
 before — ^which, led by the young King Henry III., and by 
 Stephen Langton, the Archbishop of the great Charter, 
 conveyed (1220) the relics of Becket from their resting- 
 place in the crypt to the shrine which had been prepared 
 for them behind the high altar. Thus the existing choir of 
 Canterbury Cathedral rose with, and witnessed the beginning 
 of, the veneration for the saint whose shrine made Canter- 
 bury one -of the great places of European pilgrimage. The 
 superb Perpendicular nave (1380-1411) bears testimony to 
 its culmination. Within httle more than a century after 
 this had been completed, the shrine itself disappeared ; but 
 although the place on which it stood is now marked only by 
 a slight furrow in the pavement, and by some fragments of a 
 dnce rich mosaic, the visitor will do well to follow its history 
 as it has been traced for him by Dr. Stanley, observing care- 
 fully such traces of the ' Martyr of Canterbury ' as still linger 
 in stained glass or in carved stone, and resting well assured 
 that the slightest of these relics will assist him (and he must, 
 after all, do this work mainly for himself) in reconstructing 
 a true picture of the past. Of other and more prominent 
 memorials preserved in the Cathedral little need here be said. 
 
 » Of course, when we say the choir is later, we do not forget how 
 very much there is in Canterbury Cathedral that is older than the 
 days of Becket. 
 
IN ENGLAND. 289 
 
 It is impossible to look on the tomb of the Black Prince, with 
 his own helmet and gauntlets still hanging above it, 
 
 ' That helm which never stooped, except to time,' 
 
 without passing back, for a few moments at least, to the great 
 days of Cressy and Poitiers ; and there are few of the arch- 
 bishops buried here — Stephen Langton, Ohichele, Courtenay, 
 Warham, Pole — whose monuments wiU not at once recall the 
 events of English history with which they were connected. 
 These tell their own story, and the series is sufficiently com- 
 plete to enable us to pass almost from the days of the 
 Conquest to those of the Reformation. Dr. Hook's volumes 
 Avill be read with tenfold interest aftei: our eyes have rested 
 on these, the most definite existing memorials of the Arch- 
 bishops, when they were indeed ' alterius orbis papse.' 
 
 The connexion of Rochester— the first outpost advanced 
 by St. Augustine — ^with Canterbury deserves to be carefully 
 marked, and the Cathedral itself, should be compared with its 
 mother-church. The work of the Norman period in Rochester 
 Cathedral is very interesting and suggestive ; but it is 
 especially desirable to point out here the great value of the 
 Norman keep, towering above and overlooking the Cathedral, 
 as one of the best illustrations of that age remaining in 
 England. The various arrangements — ^the outworks and 
 defences — of an ancient castle may, no doubt, be better studied 
 at Dover, and by all means with M. Violet-le-Duc's book — 
 excellently translated by Mr. Macdermott * — in hand. But 
 even the keep of Dover, so grand and strong that, according 
 to tradition, it was the work of evil spirits, yields, in the 
 degree of impression it produces, to the keep of Rochester. 
 Dover, still a fortress, with its ancient chambers still in use, 
 
 * Essan/ on the MiUtary ArMteeture of the Middle Ages, translated 
 by Mr. Macdermott ; with the original French engravings. Oxford 
 and London, 1860. 
 
 19 
 
290 TBAYELLING 
 
 has (as is now the case with the magnificent keep of Rich- 
 mond in Yorkshire) too much of modern warfare about it to 
 carry us back completely and at once to the days of the 
 Norman monarchs. Rochester, on the other hand, shattered 
 and roofless, with the light from the open sky sireaming 
 across the great piUars of its hall, has nothing of the present 
 to interpose between ourselves and the twelfth century. The 
 position of the Castle with reference to the walls and defences 
 of the city, and with regard to the Cathedral below it — to 
 which it more than once, and especially during the Barons' 
 wars of the thirteenth century, proved a troublesome neigh- 
 bour — is well seen from the highest story, which still rises to 
 the height of 100 feet. With the help of such a book as that 
 of M. Violet-le-Duc, a most interesting lesson in mediaeval 
 defence and engineering might be read from this point ; and 
 a comparison with the castles of Canterbury and of Dover 
 would render it still more valuable. Leeds, too, which was 
 the great central stronghold of Kent, and is partly Norman, 
 is stiU to be seen rising grandly in the midst of its lake, a 
 true feudal castle. It retains much of its ancient arrange- 
 ments, and will assist in rendering 'complete the series of 
 military illustrations. Pevensey, in Sussex — ^the ' Castle of 
 the Eagle Honour,' as it was called — brings us to the first 
 years of the fourteenth century ; and, besides its architectural 
 importance, has a special interest as the place from which the^ 
 earliest existing letter in English was despatched by Lady 
 Pelham to her * trew lorde.' * Bodiam, with striking arrange- 
 ments for defence, is a fine example of the end of the same 
 century, when it was built by Sir Edward Dalyngrudge, one 
 of those successful adventurers whom the French wars had 
 called forth, and who were then raising their stately castles in 
 different parts of England. Hurstmonceaux, again, entirely 
 of brick — the largest posl^Roman building of that material 
 * See it in Hallam, Lii, Hist., i. 71. 
 
IN ENGLAND. 291 
 
 in the country — dates from the reign of Henry VI., and 
 shows us the half-fortress, half-mansion, of the later days of 
 feudalism. 
 
 Turning from military to domestic architecture — ^in exam- 
 ples of which Kent and Sussex are very rich — ^we shall 
 find that the character of each successive period is not 
 less distinctly marked on the manor-house or the hall than 
 on the castle. At Sore Place, not far from Plaxtole, is a 
 small manor-house, quite perfect, which must have been 
 built about the year 1300, during the reign of the first 
 Edward. The insecurity of times in which a solitary manor- 
 house was always liable to plunder from bands of outlawed 
 men, or even from soldiers who passed it to join the King's 
 military gatherings, is marked by the narrow loops which 
 alone light the ground story ; ' and the slender accommo- 
 dation — ^the poor life of even the higher classes — ^is strongly 
 brought before us in the few and narrow rooms above. The 
 Moat House at Ightham — a veritable manor of romance, 
 such as we read of in the ' gestes ' of Sir Lancelot or Sir 
 Percival — carries us onward through the days of Edward 
 III., when its great hall was built, to those of Henry VII. 
 and Henry VIII. ; and witnesses, in its changes and altera- 
 tions, to the gradual change ^of life and manners. And then 
 — leaving unnoticed many an ancient roof-tree and many a 
 quiet old hall, telling its own story of past ages among its 
 own woods and meadows — ^we come to those later mansions, 
 belonging, in their present state, at all events, to an age 
 which had no longer special need of barbacans or dungeon- 
 towers — Knole, for example, and Penshurst. They contain, 
 of course, portions of far earlier date ; but as we now see 
 them, they rank among the best illustrations of the great 
 Tudor mansion. And what recollections of the profoundest 
 interest are connected with each of these places ! Of Pens- 
 hurst, especially, it may be said, that if, as the famous words 
 
292 TRAVELLING 
 
 of Johnson suggest, it should be impossible to tread the soil 
 
 of Marathon without renewing our patriotism, or of lona 
 
 without an increase of veneration for ancient piety, all that 
 
 makes up the best and most thorough English character 
 
 ought to gain fresh life and strength from a visit to the 
 
 home of Sir Philip Sydney. Here we may return, more 
 
 completely than anywhere else, to the great days of his 
 
 short life. Sir Philip himself, with his own ' keen look,' his 
 
 parents, his uncles, his brother, and his sister 
 
 '..,.. the subject of all verse, 
 Sidney's sister, Pembroke's mother,' 
 
 regard us from the walls of the venerable apartments, some 
 of which are lined with the furniture which Queen Elizabeth 
 herself sent as presents to her cousins of Penshurst. As we 
 wander from room to room, and recall the associations — the 
 chapters from our own history — which are suggested by each 
 one of these portraits, we begin almost to feel with the old 
 monk, that they are in truth the realities, and we who gaze 
 on them the shadows. 
 
 Thus, at the risk of dwelling on what must be familiar to 
 many, some of the most prominent historical relics of Kent 
 and Sussex have been indicated, because it is well to show 
 how much may be found in this way within the limits of 
 even a single county, without at all drawing for illustration 
 on those lesser remains which every old church and every 
 old manor-house would surely furnish. But there is no frag- 
 ment of antiquity — no hint or trace of former days — ^which 
 may not be made to tell its own story, and in its own degree 
 to aid us in restoring the past. The sHght ridge, now in the 
 midst of ploughed fields and enclosures, but marking where 
 an ancient road once passed, will sometimes enable us to 
 explain, with a clearness otherwise unattainable, events — 
 such as the march of troops or the choice of battle-fields — 
 which its course must have influenced. The half-destroyed 
 
IN ENGLAND. 293 
 
 dyke, in the hands of such an investigator as Dr. Gruest, 
 becomes an important witness in the question of the early 
 settlements of our English ancestors. There is no corner of 
 England which does not contain some relic of former days ; 
 and whilst the lessons to be gained from those close at home 
 are to be first read, and may be studied at leisure, they will 
 surely lead, if there be anything of the true historical spirit 
 in the student, to wider surveys and to more extended 
 wanderings. And if anything would tend to awaken that 
 spirit in the youthful mind, it would be such a tour as we 
 have been suggesting, under competent guidance. Every 
 man is not destined to become an historian, or to obtain a 
 rehsh for historical study. But if the true feeling is latent in 
 the mind, it might be roused to consciousness, and thgrt at a 
 very early age, by a visit to the Roman walls at Rich- 
 borough, or to the field of the Conquest at Battle; 
 
 Still keeping in view such great historical monuments as 
 we are in the habit of seeking in foreign countries witii the 
 greatest zeal and eagerness, it is the fact that we have at 
 home more than one such memorial altogether unrivalled 
 in its kind, and which of itself might well be made the' object 
 of an English tour. Nowhere else in Europe — ^perhaps in no 
 other of their ancient provinces — is the limit of the Roman 
 Empire so remarkably traced as by the remains of the great 
 wall which extended, and may still be followed, from Wallsend 
 on the Tyne to Bowness on the Solway — a distance of about 
 sixty-nine miles. The wall and its stations have been excel- 
 lently described by Dr. Bruce of Newcastle ; and, since the 
 appearance of his volume, they have been carefully mapped 
 and surveyed by Mr. Maclauchlan, at the expense of the 
 Duke of Northumberland.* A more delightful pilgrimage 
 
 * Mr. Maclauchlan's survey was printed ' for private circulation' 
 only. See also an article on the Roman Wall in the Quarterly Beview 
 for January, 1860. 
 
294 TEAVELLING 
 
 can hardly be imagined than that along the whole line of the 
 waU, from which short diversions might occasionally be made 
 to the most interesting castles, 'peels,' and ' craggs ' which lie 
 at no great distance from it. The railway from Newcastle to 
 CarHsle runs somewhat south of the wall ; and one or two of 
 the most remarkable ancient stations may be visited from the 
 ' stations ' of the line which has replaced the military way of 
 the legions. But the true way to enjoy such an expedition is 
 to make it either on foot or on horseback, lingering here and 
 there as choice or weather may induce. The wild country 
 through which the wall passes, with its memories of moss- 
 troopers and border-combats — ' Eidleys, and ThirlwaUs, and 
 a' '-^is of itself sufficiently exciting ; and the sharp, clear air 
 of the hiUs bracing and appetizing to the utmost. In most 
 parts, indeed, the scene has been little changed since the Tun- 
 grian Cohort garrisoned Borcovicus, or the Asturians were 
 quartered at ^sica ; and we look over the same rough fells 
 of crag and heather which were seen by them as they paced 
 the summit of the rampart. Such it is especially at Sewing 
 Shields, where the basaltic rocks ' descend in abrupt and lofty 
 chffs to the northern moorlands ;' and where, says tradition. 
 King Arthur and his knights are lying in an enchanted sleep 
 within a mysterious cavern. Beyond this are passes in the 
 wall, ' Cat Gate ' and ' Busy Gap,' where the moss-troopers 
 used to cross the barrier. ' The place,' says Camden, ' was 
 infamous for thieving and robbery, where stood some castles 
 (chesters, they called them), as I have heard, but could not 
 with safety take the full survey of it, for the robbers here- 
 abouts.' We may now sujvey it with safety ; although the 
 ' robbers ' — or at least one famous house of them — will be 
 brought to mind a little further on, where is ' Hot Bank 
 Farm, still inhabited by members of the ancient family of 
 Armstrong, who live here with a character very different to 
 that which they acquired in the moss-trooping days. The 
 
IN ENGLAND. 295 
 
 funeral of the late Mr. Armstrong was followed across the 
 moorland by two hundred mounted borderers.' * 
 
 Of the same wild and unchanged character is the country 
 about Housesteads — ^the ancient BorcoYicus — the most interest- 
 ing station on the wall, honoured by Stukeley with the name of 
 the British ' Tadmor in the Wilderness.' The station itself 
 covers about five acres, and occupies a lofty ridge with a 
 wide view stretching away on three sides of it. On the 
 north is the wall-; the west gate retains its strong central 
 gate-post of stone ; and on either side are the ruined roof- 
 less guard-chambers. Narrow streets, with the marks of 
 wheels on their pavements, intersect the station ; and with- 
 out the walls great heaps of oyster-shells and of bones, chiefly 
 red-deer and wild-boar, testify to the long occupation of the 
 Tungrian Cohort, which was placed here for more than a 
 century. That these Northern stations were not without the 
 most stately appliances of Roman magnificence is proved by 
 the superb silver ' lanx ' or dish, weighing 150 ounces, which 
 was found in 1734 at Corstopitum (near the junction of the 
 Cor with the Tyne), and is now at Alnwick. Borcovicus, 
 however, in its flourishing days, never witnessed more satis- 
 factory feasting than took place within its walls in 1852, 
 when the Antiquaries of the Institute, in their progress 
 along the Roman wall, were entertained here by the Duke 
 of Northumberland. It is amusing to compare the comfort 
 and luxury with which modern archseologists traverse the 
 length and breadth of the island, and find tables spread for 
 them in the wilderness, with the trials and troubles of such 
 men as Leland or Stukeley. 
 
 Beyond Housesteads, the wall ' is seen in its full perfection 
 
 and grandeur, running from hill to hill, and cresting the 
 
 crags, which on the right rise perpendicularly from the 
 
 moorland. On the left is a magnificent view over the 
 
 * Hcmdbookfor IMtrham, and Nortlvumbm'land, p. 277. 
 
296 TEAVELLING 
 
 valley of the Tyne and Hhe Cumberland hills, among which 
 Skiddaw and Saddleback are conspicuous. On the right are 
 the dark-blue Northumbrian lakes or loughs, sleeping in the 
 hollow of the moorland.'* 
 
 There are four of these small lakes, all picturesque. But 
 to enumerate half the points of interest which crowd upon us 
 as we follow the course of the wall would be impossible. 
 It must be remembered that along its whole line remains of 
 the wall itself, of the vallum south of it, of the larger stations, 
 .at intervals of four miles, and of the ' Castella ' placed at the 
 distance of one Roman mile from each other, are constantly 
 offering themselves for remark and examination. Is there 
 not here sufficient inducement to lead many a band of pedes- 
 trians to set out, staff in hand, whilst the heather is bright 
 over all the hills of the Border, and to cross the island under 
 the guidance of this great relic ? 
 
 Scarcely less distinctive than the Roman wall are the 
 remains of the Cistercian Abbeys which give so deep an 
 interest to the picturesque valleys of Yorkshire. Citeaux, 
 the parent monastery, has nothing to show us but desecrated 
 buildings, of an almost modern character. At Clugny, its 
 great rival, the towers of the church alone remain. At Clair- 
 vaux, the Abbey of St. Bernard, what remains of the monas- 
 tery has been converted into a prison, and the church has been 
 completely destroyed. There is little at either place to recal 
 the great days of the twelfth century — St. Bernard or St. 
 Hugh. But the pilgrim who, after gazing, not without a 
 feeling of almost awe-stricken sadness, upon that wonderful 
 view of Rievaulx from the hill-side, descends among her 
 ruined aisles and cloisters ; or, yet more strongly, who lets 
 the long summer-day glide by him among the grassy courts 
 and solemn shadows of Fountains, is brought almost face to 
 face with St. Bernard and the band of monastic reformers 
 * Handbook, p. 277. 
 
IN ENGLAND. 297 
 
 who first gathered around him. The simple unadorned 
 architecture of the great church, which wants little more 
 than its roof to become again perfect, reminds us at once of 
 the protest made, by St. Bernard against the rich and 
 fantastic sculptures with which ' they of Cluny ' delighted to 
 fiU their buildings. Much of it was, no doubt, the work of 
 the second abbot, Murdac, afterwards Archbishop of York, 
 who had been one of Bernard's own monks at Clairvaux, and 
 to whom, when in England and at Fountains, Bernard often 
 wrote, drawing many thoughts and images from the name 
 ' Fontes,' Fountains, which had been given to the new mon- 
 astery. All the arrangements — aU the daily life' — of a great 
 religious house, as it was in its prime and perfection, may 
 here be minutely traced ; and it is difficult for the coldest 
 imagination to remain unmoved, as, portion by portion, the 
 old world of Fountains reveals itself. No such remains — so 
 perfect and so entirely of the earliest Cistercian period — exist 
 elsewhere in Europe : and to aU this must be added the 
 exquisite and touching beauty of the situation and the sur- 
 rounding scenery. Some of the great yew-trees which 
 sheltered the monks who first fled to this solitary valley from 
 the house of St. Mary's, at York, still remain, and still bear 
 their scarlet berries ; and beyond the church rise the shelves 
 of rock, overhung with fern and ivy, which echoed their first 
 litanies. ' Where could a place ' — to quote a passage which 
 truly reproduces the spirit of the scene, — 
 
 ' Where could a place be found more fit to convince the recluse, if 
 it were only by the force of contrast, that the retirement -which he 
 enjoyed was superior to the charms of the world beyond him ? Where 
 could he live more purely, more devotedly, to God 1 The great book 
 of Nature was daily open to the Cistercian then, and he would see' in 
 it what to other readers was meaningless and vain. The heavens 
 looked down upon him with their many eyes, piercing him through 
 and through, and teUing him that everything was visible to their 
 viewless Lord. Strange voices seemed to commune with him from 
 between the wings of the wind as it arose and fell in that solitary 
 
298 TEAVELLING 
 
 vale. In evei-ything around him, pure and simple as it was, there was 
 something to direct him heavenwards, a type or symbol of some better 
 thing to come. 
 
 " Sum nemorum studiosus, ait," — 
 
 ' " There was a spirit in the woods," through which he walked, and lie 
 would think of the green-tree and the dry. The murmurings in the 
 elm, the twinkling leaves of the beech which St. Bernard loved to 
 watch, the wanton airs which ran in and out like sportive children 
 among the branches of the oak, were as significant to him as the pro- 
 phetic breeze which stirred of old "the tops of the mulberry-trees." 
 In those rocks, once a shelter to him when he came for the first time 
 into that " weary land," he would see a type of that great " spiritual 
 rock " on which the Church was buUt, and he would beseedi Him 
 who had "poured down the stones into the valley" to be to him a 
 "house of defence" and a "rock of habitation." The waters which 
 bubbled up and sparkled among the clefts would remind him of the 
 "pure fountain of life and the crystal sea ;" and when he mused upon the 
 perfections of Him who had sent these " springs into the valleys," he 
 would join in the exclamation of the Psalmist, " All my fresh springs 
 shall be in Thee. Benedicite, Fontes, Domino."'* 
 
 Besides Fountains and Bievaulx, Yorkshire, it need hardly 
 be said, is especially rich in monastic ruins, the greater part 
 of which are Cistercian. Byland, Kirkstall, Jervaulx, and 
 Bolton, are all rich in interest and association, and all (in- 
 cluding Bolton, although that was a house of Augustinian 
 Canons) situated in such picturesque valleys — 
 
 ' Silvestribus undique cinctas 
 Arboribus — ' 
 
 as the Cistercians loved : valleys once wild and ' desert,' but 
 
 now full of that mournful grace which nothing but the ruins 
 
 of such houses can possibly bestow. A month among the 
 
 abbeys of Yorkshire would be full of instruction for the 
 
 archaeologist and historian, and full of delight for the artist. 
 
 But if the ruins are to tell their true story, they must be 
 
 visited in a thoughtful and reverent spirit ; not, ' with the 
 
 vulgar citizens,' for the sake of a holiday only. 
 
 A long catalogue might thus be compiled — ^much longer 
 
 * Saine's Lives of the Archbishops of York, vol. i. p. 2X5. 
 
IN ENGLAND. 299 
 
 than would generally be thought possible — of similar ' special- 
 ties,' in which the best, and sometimes the sole, examples are 
 possessed by our own country. Such, among many others, 
 are those village churches which have before been mentioned. 
 Neither France, Belgium, nor Germany, outside the walls of 
 their great towns, can show anything like the treasures of 
 architectural and antiquarian interest which the traveller is 
 sure to find here, whenever he leaves the main route, and 
 penetrates the pleasant byways of England. Often, indeed, 
 on our course from one town to another the railway hurries 
 us by stations which would land us within an easy walk of 
 some ancient church, far more picturesque in its quiet beauty, 
 and far more interesting to the archaeologist, than the better 
 known ' lion ' of the district, which is perhaps the main object 
 of our journey. Tourists on the Continent are too much in 
 the habit of neglecting all that lies between one great station 
 and another ; but architectural tourists in England, at all 
 events, may be assured that they would find an occasional 
 deviation from the main line of their journey as pleasant as 
 it would be profitable. Such churches as Haccombe, in 
 Devonshire, rich in ancient monuments and brasses, or as 
 Tanfield, in Yorkshire, where, in spite of modern restoration, 
 the solemn effigies of the Marmions, in their low-roofed - 
 chapel, remain nearly as they were seen by Leland, and 
 remind us of one of Cattermole's most romantic drawings, 
 are well worth the delay of a few hours and the labour of 
 reaching them. The superb churches of the Norfolk Marsh- 
 land, again, put of the way as they are, deserve a tour in 
 their especial honour ; or let the wanderer find his way 
 across the heaths from Pickering to the little Yorkshire 
 church of Lastingham, the whole scene about which remains 
 nearly as it was when St. Cedd established his monastery 
 there, and Bede came to it southward from Jarrow to obtain 
 materials for his history. The Norman crypt, it is true, 
 
300 TEAVBLLING 
 
 is of later date ; but its ' antique pillars, massy proof,' 
 are solemn enough to take us far back toward that early 
 time. 
 
 The Cathedral Churches of England must hardly be in- 
 cluded in the list of specialties. Yet in them we find of 
 course much that is peculiar to this country, and that illus- 
 trates its history in the most striking and impressive manner. 
 Beginning with Canterbury and Rochester, we may follow 
 the progress of Christianily in our island, tracing it from 
 Winchester to Wells and Exeter ; then to the South Saxons 
 at Chichester ; then eastward and northward to Norwich, 
 Ely, and Lincoln ; from York over the whole of Northum- 
 bria ; and from Lichfield over Mercia. In each one of the 
 great cathedrals that occupy these ancient sites we may read 
 the history of long centuries — centuries of change in archi- 
 tecture, in art, in manners, in religion. The tourist, who 
 should proceed from one cathedral to another, taking them 
 in due historical order, and allowing himself time for a 
 proper study of all they contain, would find, at the end of 
 his most pleasant labours, that he had amassed a greater 
 amount of information, and had gained more direct illus- 
 trations of English history, civil and ecclesiastical, than he 
 could have done in any other course of travel, or by any 
 amount of unassisted book-study. 
 
 One other subject may here be touched upon — ^the arl> 
 treasures of England contained in private collections, and 
 scattered broadcast over the whole country. It is a fact, 
 that to see the -finest works of certain great artists — and 
 especially of two or three of the Neiherlanders — the foreigner 
 must come to England. Eambrandt is 'more abundant 
 everywhere than in his own land' — ^most abundant, and 
 probably finest, in England. It is the same with Teniers, 
 Cuyp, Hobbema, and Ruysdael ; and even Claude and 
 Gaspar Poussin are, in all probability, better represented 
 
IN ENGLAND. 301 
 
 here than on the Continent.* And these treasures are not, 
 as for the most part is the case in other countries, shut up 
 in great town mansions or ' palazze,' but are to be found in 
 almost every large country-house. Such, indeed, is the 
 wealth of England, and such its diflPusion, that it is impos- 
 sible to say that the simplest villa or parsonage which the 
 tourist passes may not contain some picture of the highest 
 value and interest. Of no other country can the same be 
 said ; and perhaps in no other country could there be the 
 same liberality that prevails here, for the most part, in per- 
 mitting the free access of strangers to the greater and more 
 important collections. Petworth, Cobham, and C9,stle Howard 
 are grand examples. Here and there, of course, a portal will 
 be found before which the most adventurous knight-errant 
 will sound his horn in vain ; but in arranging a tour through 
 any part of England, the collections great and small which 
 lie in the course of it may generally be relied on as accessi- 
 ble, and should often be made, with advantage, the chief 
 objects of the journey. 
 
 If the railways which cover the face of England have 
 destroyed much of that old secluded life which was not with- 
 out its great charms, they have opened for us points of 
 interest in every direction. But in truth many secluded 
 districts still remain, sufficiently remote from the scream of 
 the engine to preserve their old characteristics to a great 
 extent. These are the pleasantest haunts of the pedestrian. 
 No line of railway has as yet penetrated into the recesses 
 of Dartmoor ; although the outlying bastions of that great 
 
 hill fortress 
 
 ' Hear aiax 
 The rattling of th' om-scythed car.' 
 
 Among the granite tors, and beside the clear mountain 
 
 * See an article on the ' Treasures of Art in Great Britain,' Quart. 
 Bev., March, 1854. 
 
302 TEAVELLING 
 
 streams, the artist with his pencil or the angl«r with his rod 
 may wander day after day, in blissful ignorance of all the 
 turmoil of nations or of cabinets. He may listen, when he 
 does light upon some lonely farm among its wind-swept ash 
 trees, to old-fashioned Devonshire stories, told in that true 
 Doric which is daily becoming less and less true in the more 
 open country; and, as he climbs the steep hill-side among the 
 bent grass and the heather, he may trace out the ancient 
 remains which abound over all the forest — the stone circle — 
 the hut — or the kistvaen, the ' narrow house of death.' It is 
 like passing back into another century to find oneself in such 
 an unchanged district aS this, — more unchanged, perhaps, 
 and more truly of an older world, than the wild country of 
 North Devon, although much of that is also beyond the 
 sweep of the railway. Portions of the Cornish coast, again, 
 especially that on the north, 
 
 'All down the thundering shores of Bude and Boss,' 
 
 from Morwenstow, with its venerable church, to the famous 
 Tintagel — a sunset seen from which will be one of the events 
 of an artist's life — and farther west, to St. Columb, are 
 hardly less old-fashioned and unconscious of modern influ- 
 ence. The pedestrian indeed may well be advised to make 
 the circuit of the coast, passing down it on the north, and 
 returning to Plymouth on the south. But the greater part 
 of Cornwall is now readily accessible by railway; and the 
 general tour of this county is one of those which are most 
 certain to reward either the archaeologist or the wanderer 
 who is only in search of the picturesque. Corners of North- 
 umberland, of Durham, of the lake country, of Derbyshire, 
 and least generally known, perhaps, of all, of Yorkshire, will 
 supply excellent ground for the wanderer who desires to 
 escape for a time from the cares and the associations of this 
 nineteenth century. The western dales of Yorkshire, the 
 
IN ENGLAND. 303 
 
 wild district of Craven, and all that mass of rugged hills and 
 moors that stretches northward from Ingleborough to the 
 borders of Westmoreland and Durham, are little trod by 
 pedestrians, and retain much of their primitive character. 
 They abound with scenes of extreme beauty and grandeur ; 
 Gordale chasm, indeed, about nine miles from Settle, is pro- 
 bably unrivalled in England (and even in the Scottish High- 
 lands we should not easily find a scene that would surpass it) 
 in its almost terrific sublimity. It is in wanderings through 
 such tracts as these that we learn thoroughly to appreciate 
 the beauty and the variety of English scenery ; and to 
 recognise, more or less distinctly in proportion to the study 
 that we bestow on it, the wonderful power with which its 
 numerous phases have been rendered by Turner, and by 
 many another English painter of landscape. The following, 
 from its source to the sea, of such a river as the Yorkshire 
 Wharfe, as the Severn, the Dart, or the Thames (the last, 
 perhaps, the most completely English in the character of its 
 scenery) would bring far greater pleasure to many a tour- 
 ist than the usual steam voyage up the Bhine, and would 
 leave him wondering at the unsuspected beauties of his native 
 country. 
 
 Many a delightfiil tour, on foot, on horseback, or some- 
 times using the railway, as chance and opportunity serve, 
 might be arranged by making its object some definite point 
 of examination — antiquarian, historical, or even geographical. 
 The battle-fields of the Wars of the Roses, Towton and 
 Wakefield, Barnet and St. Alban's, and Bosworth, with its 
 many memories, might be made to illustrate all that troubled 
 and very obscure period ; or we might follow in the track of 
 Simon de Montfort and the Barons' war of the thirteenth 
 century — ^visiting Lewes, with its ' Mount Harry,' the scene 
 of the battle, its Castle and its Priory — and Evesham, where 
 the ^reat Earl fell, and where his tomb in the Abbey Church 
 
304 TEAVELLING 
 
 became one of the shrines of English pilgrimage. We might, 
 too, like the illustrions Dr. Heavystern, when he rode north- 
 ward from York to visit Mr. Oldbuck at Monkbarns, insist 
 on ignoring all turnpike-roads, railways, and other modern 
 appliances, and betake ourselves to the course of "Watling 
 Street, or of the Icknield Way, the true old ' King's High- 
 ways,' whose stones were laid by the Roman legions, and 
 whose 'peace' is proclaimed in the laws of Saxon monarchs. 
 Let us listen for a moment to Dr. Guest's comment on the 
 charms of the Icknield — ^the road which crossed the island 
 from Norfolk toward Devonshire : — 
 
 'I know,' he says, ' no part of England — and I am well acquainted 
 with its bye-ways — where so much of genuine legend stUl lingers 
 among the peasantry as along the course of the Icknield Street. Plott 
 represents the road as almost deserted in his day; yet your guide 
 will talk of the long lines of pack-horses that once frequented the 
 'Ickley Way,' as if they were things of yesterday : and a farmer in 
 the Vale- of Aylesbury told me, as he was pointing out the course of 
 the Icknield Street along the sides of the Chiltem, that in the Popish 
 times they used to go on pilgrimage along it from Oxford to Cam- 
 bridge There is something in the deserted aspect of this 
 
 old trackway which is very fascinating to the antiquary : while the 
 boundless views which, throughout its whole course, open to the west 
 and north, and its long stretches of springy turf -land, which even the 
 agricultural changes of the last ten years have not wholly obliterated, 
 are accompaniments that will no doubt be more generally appreciated. 
 The absence of ancient towns along its course has been often noticed. 
 
 But the want of Boman remains is amply compensated for 
 
 by the many objects, mostly of British antiquity, which crowd upon 
 us as we journey westward ; by the tumidi and the camps which show 
 themselves on our right hand and oh our left ; by the six gigantic 
 earthworks which, in the interval of eighty miles, between the borders 
 of Suffolk and the Thames, were raised at widely distant periods to 
 bar progress along this now deserted thoroughfare ; by the White 
 Cross which rises over the Vale of Aylesbury, and the stiU more 
 ancient White Horse that looks down upon the Vale of Wantage. 
 When it is remembered that in its probable course westward the 
 Icknield Street passes by ' Wayland's Smithy,' and the mysterious 
 Avebury, and that it crosses the Wansdyke in its progress toward 
 Stonehenge and old Sarum, it will be conceded that no line of country 
 of the same extent in Britain can show objects of greater interest to 
 
IN ENGLAND. 305 
 
 the antiquary, and — ^why may we not add the more dignified name ? — 
 to the historian.' * 
 
 K the tourist do not return from such an expedition 
 ' reliffiodor or doctior, with more pietj" or learning ; it is 
 surely his own fault if he do not depart jucundior, with 
 more pleasure and lawful delight.'f 
 
 What is the best and pleasantest season for travelling in 
 England ? Most of us begin to move when the late summer 
 is passing into autumn, and when the foliage, if it has not 
 begun to change, has at least assumed that tint of deeper 
 green which precedes the richer hues of the ' fall.' But this 
 was not our ancestors' fashion. Chaucer's pilgrims set out — 
 
 ' Whaune that April with his shoures sote 
 The' droughte of March had perced to the rote, 
 * * * * * 
 
 When Zephirus eke with his sote brethe 
 Enspired had in every holt and hethe 
 The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne 
 Had in the Bam his halfe cours yronne.' 
 
 Those who make their pilgrimage at this most delightful 
 time of the year will surely meet their reward. Grrey 
 cathedral and ruined monastery are never more impressive 
 or more touching than when their lichen-stained walls are 
 contrasted by the fresh tender green of young leaves ; and, 
 although the grandeur of mountain scenery is almost inde- 
 pendent of the seasons, it is in the spring and early summer 
 that the most exquisite effects follow the changes of light 
 among the scarred hill-sides and through the deep river 
 valleys. There is a certain stir of the blood, too, at this 
 season, which naturally inclines us to motion. ' Then longen 
 
 * ' The Four Roman Ways,' ArchcBologieod Jowmal, June, 1857. It 
 may be added that Dr. Guest's very interesting paper is illustrated by 
 a map, which (as well as the paper itself) will assist the tourist, who 
 may gird himself up for the adventure of the Icknield. 
 
 t Fuller, WoriMBa. Introduction. 
 
 20 
 
306 TEA YELLING IN ENGLAND. 
 
 folk to gon on pilgrimages.' We sympathise witli the brisk 
 spring wind, driving its flocks of white cloudlets along the 
 sky; and with the dashing hill-stream, that seems to call 
 with especial joyonsness through the young green of its 
 birches and rowan trees. But, after all, few of us can 
 choose our own time for holiday; and, however we may 
 prefer the spring, we know well how many charms follow in 
 the train of — 
 
 ' Autumn bold, 
 With universal tint of sober goldi'* 
 
 No season, indeed, is without its delight. Even mid- 
 winter may sometimes be chosen with advantage by the 
 archaeologist who sets out to trace the lines of ancient earth- 
 works or to follow some boundary dyke through an enclosed 
 country. A morning frost or thin snow, on its disappearing, 
 will often render visible very slight inequalities of the ground 
 which would otherwise have passed unnoticed. At all seasons, 
 and in all parts, the traveller in England who journeys with 
 his eyes open, will find no lack of interest.' 
 
 • Keats, Endyrmon. 
 
VII. 
 DEYONSHIRE. 
 
 TXTHEN the learned Jean Bodin, toward tlie end of the 
 ^ ' sixteenth century, published his famous treatise De 
 Repvblicd, there was one among his many critics whose 
 name, from the men of Devonsliire and Cbrnwall at least 
 deserved something better than the complete oblivion into 
 which it has fallen. This is Nathaniel Carpenter, whose 
 father was rector of Hatherleigh, near Okehampton, and who 
 was himself a fellow of Exeter College, Oxford, where he 
 seems to have been one of the most remarkable men of his 
 time. In his 'GeograjAie delineated forth' — ^the first com- 
 plete treatise on the subject published in English — ^he rephes 
 at considerable length to Bodin, who ' is over-peremptorie in 
 overmuch censuring all mountainous people of blockishnesse 
 and barbarisme, against the opinion of Averroes, a great 
 writer, who, finding these people nearer heaven, suspected in 
 them a more heavenlie nature.' Carpenter proceeds accord- 
 ingly to ' checke Mr. Bodin's bold conjecture ' by an express 
 reference to ' our mountainous countries of Dsevon and 
 Cornwall,' and by a display of 'choice flowres crept from 
 that Hesperian garden.' 
 
 'It cannot be styled,' he asserts, 'our reproach, but glorie, to draw 
 our' offspring from such an aire, which produceth witts as eminent aa 
 the mountains, approaching far nearer to heaven in excellency, than 
 the other in height transcend the valleys. Wherein can any province 
 of Great Britain challenge precedency before us ? Should any deny 
 us the reputation of arts and learning, the pious ghosts of Jewell, 
 Baynolds, and Hooker would rise up in opposition.' 
 
 * Quarterly Beview, April, 1859. 
 
308 DEVONSHIEE. 
 
 A long string of names follows, setting forth the riches of 
 the ' sweete hive and receptacle of our western wittes ' in 
 statesmen, soldiers, seamen, philosophers, poets, and in 'many 
 inferior faculties wherein our Dsevon hath displayed her 
 abilities;' and whatever the hiUs and rocky tors of 'our 
 Daevon ' may have had to do with the matter, it is certain 
 that the list is one that can be rivalled by few other counties, 
 probably by none. 'I should not,' he concludes, alluding 
 perhaps to the glorification of ' nous autres Frangais,' implied 
 in the ' bold conjecture of Mr. Bodin,' ' have spun out this 
 theme so long, but to stop their mouthes, who, being sooner 
 taught to speak than understand, take advantage of the rude 
 language and plaine attire of our countrymen, admiring 
 nothing more than themselves, or the magnificent splendours 
 of their own habitation ; as though all the witt in the world 
 were annexed to their own schooles, and no flowres of science 
 could grow in another garden. But a rude dialect being more 
 indebted to custom than nature, is a small argument of a 
 blockishe disposition ; and a homelie outside may shroude 
 more witt than the silkeworme's industry. I have sometimes 
 heard a rude speech in a frize habit expresse better sense 
 tihan at other times a scarlett robe; and a plaine yeoman with 
 a mattocke in his hand, speake more to the purpose than some 
 counsellours at the barre.' 
 
 Mr. Bodin's acquaintance with the sweet receptacle of 
 western wits was in all probability very limited ; and, if he 
 ever lighted on it, he must have been considerably edified by 
 this elaborate attack on his general proposition. As a Devon- 
 shire man, however, Carpenter may have thought that some 
 defence of his native county was not uncalled for on other 
 grounds. Notwithstanding Queen Elizabeth's often-quoted 
 saying, that ' the Devonshire gentry were aU born courtiers, 
 with a becoming confidence,' it is certain that, as well at that 
 time as long afterwards, the. remote land of Western Barbary 
 
DEVOKSHIBE. 309 
 
 enjoyed, on certain points of civilization and manners, a very 
 questionable pre-eminence. 'A sweet county?' said Quin the 
 epicure, on his return from eating John Dories at Plymouth — 
 ' no, sir ; I found nothing sweet in Devonshire — ^except the 
 vinegar.' In that day the nicer delicacies of the table were 
 evidently quite unknown to the savage natives. But some 
 ignorance of so refined, a science might reasonably have 
 been expected, from, a people whose manners, when Herrick 
 wrote, were 'rockie as their ways,' and whose gentry, 
 according to Lady Fanshawe, however loyal and hospitable, 
 were ' of a crafty and censorious nature, as most used to be 
 so far from London.' After this, we are not surprised to 
 find Clarendon accounting for Monk's ' rough and doubtful ' 
 answer to the Duke of Ormond about the regiment to be sent 
 from Ireland for the King, by the fact that 'he had no other 
 education but Dutch and Devonshire.' 
 
 The roughness and independence which are perhaps to some 
 extent still characteristic of the men of Devonshire, were no 
 doubt greatly fostered by two geographical features of their 
 county, which have influenced its history from the earliest 
 times — ^its isolation and the position of its harbours. Shut in 
 by the Cornish peninsula on one side, with which the Saxon 
 'Defhssetas' felt little sympathy, and by the sea on the north 
 and south, the only land communication, of Devonshire with 
 the rest of England lies eastward through Somerset and 
 Dorset. Great woods and deep marshes, however, formed for 
 many centuries a kind of natural barrier, and must long have 
 prevented milch intercourse with the neighbouring counties. 
 The. men of Devonshire were thus early compelled to depend 
 upon their own resources — a task in the prosecution of which 
 no small difficulties were to be successfully encountered. The 
 earliest notices of 'our Dasvoh' suggest very different images 
 from those with which its name is now associated — ^flie soft 
 sea breezes, the rose and myrtle-covered cottages, and the 
 
310 DEVONSHIRE. 
 
 broad green meadows dotted with lazy cows. The country 
 was wild and desolate, and so thickly covered with forest, that 
 '■ the woodlands of Dy vnaint ' is the expression by which it is 
 generally referred to in the earliest Welsh poems. Aldhelm's 
 ' Dira JDomnonia ' * alludes perhaps as much to the moral 
 condition of the district, where the heretical Britons refused 
 to keep their Easter in due season, as to its physical character; 
 but the Domesday Survey, with its miles of wood and coppice, 
 and its thinly scattered population, suppHes material for a 
 sufficiently rugged picture, the accuracy of which is con- 
 firmed by subsequent chroniclers. Poor and hungry (jejunum 
 et squalidum), according to William of Malmesbury, was the 
 land about Exeter, now among the most productive in the 
 county. Its scanty crop of oats, says the Monk of Devizes, 
 somewhat varying Johnson's famous definition, supplied one 
 and the same nutriment to man and beast. There were indeed 
 certain districts, in the South Hams and elsewhere, which 
 seem always to have been noted for their fruitfulness ; but the 
 mass of the county had to be reclaimed by patient industry. 
 In Fuller's time the work had been tolerably accomplished, 
 and Devonshire stood high among the agricultural counties. 
 'No shire,' he says, 'shows more industrious, or so many 
 husbandmen, who .... make the ground both to take and 
 keep a moderate fruitfulnesse ; so that Virgil, if now aHve, 
 might make additions to his Georgicks from the plough- 
 practice in this county.' 
 
 If, however, the situation of Devonshire with respect to 
 other English counties was remote and isolated, some com- 
 pensation was afforded by the many and excellent harbours 
 
 * The expression occurs in one of his poems — 
 ' Quando prof ectus fueram 
 Usque diram Domnoniam 
 Per carentem Comubiam 
 Florulentis cespitibus 
 Et foecundis graminibus.' 
 
DEVONSHIEE. 311 
 
 on its southern coast, supplying not less ample opportunity 
 for the development of the energies of its inhabitants by sea, 
 than the reclamation of its heaths and coppices did by land. 
 At a very early period the position of these harbours imme- 
 diately opposite Brittany and the west coast of France, and 
 later, their convenience as points of departure for the new- 
 found world of America, gave them an importance of no 
 ordinary character, and produced a race of hardy and daring 
 seamen, of whom Westcote, writing in the reign of James I., 
 asserts that 'the whole world brings forth no better.' The 
 difficulties to be encountered both by sea and land went to 
 form the character of the men of Devonshire ; in whose his- 
 tory may be traced a certain independence resulting from 
 the isolation of their county — a carelessness and indifference 
 about the great events which were stirring other parts of 
 England — a disUke of all change, as in the matter of the 
 reformation of religion — and at the same time a resolute 
 defence of what appeared to them their own interests, as 
 instances of which we may refer to the rising at the time of 
 the Reformation, and to the conduct of the clubmen during 
 the civil war. Perhaps the huccaneering spirit which pre- 
 vailed so extensively among the Devonshire adventurers of 
 the sixteenth century, und the fact that many of the pirates 
 who haunted the narrow seas during tiie reigns of James 
 and Charles I. were natives of Plymou% Dartmouth, a,nd 
 Barnstaple, may be regarded as illustrations of the same 
 independent and ' unclubbable ' temper. 
 
 No satisfactory or accurate history of Devonshire exists. 
 The nearest approach to one is the volume which forms 
 part of Lysons' Magrm Britannia, published in 1822. The 
 earliest collections for the county were made in the first half 
 of the seventeenth century, by Sir William Pole of Shute, 
 Tristram Eisdon of Winscot, and Westcote of Shobrook, 
 near Creditoo. Westcote's book, printed for tibie first time 
 
312 DEVONSHIEE. 
 
 in 1845, is curious, and may be accepted as a very complete 
 'View of DeTonshire' about the year 1630, in spite of cer- 
 tain omissions, of which, as he tells us himself, he had been 
 accused, such as his having made no mention of the great 
 bear which fought nine dogs when the Duke of Anjou, the 
 French King's brother, was in Devonshire. Polwhele's 
 History of Devonshire, 1793-98, was never completed, and 
 abounds in every kind of inaccuracy, although gossiping 
 stories occur in it here and there which deserve sifting. A 
 far more important book is the Damnonii Orientates Illustres, 
 or Worthies of Devon, of the Rev. John Prince, vicar of 
 Berry Pomeroy, published in folio in 1701, and reprinted, 
 with additional notes, in 1810. Both editions have now 
 become rare. Prince's book was welcomed with a chorus of 
 applause from his brother clergy, many of whom came for- 
 ward with laudatory verses, as, for instance, Mr. William 
 Pearse, of Dean Prior : — 
 
 ' You've done the -work, sir ; but you can't be pay'd 
 Until among those Worthies you are laid :- 
 Then future ages will unjustly do 
 To write of Worthies, and to leave out you.' 
 
 The Devonshire Orientales Illustres are for the most part 
 something more than ' grands hommes de province ; ' and it 
 is scarcely possible to imagine a more delightful volume than 
 might be made of Prince's Worthies, with the additirfns to be 
 gained by modern research, and with illustrations from good 
 portraits, personal relics, ancient manor-houses, and sepulchral 
 monuments. 
 
 The first indistinct appearance of Devonshire through the 
 mists of dawniag history connects it with the mysterious 
 Cassiterides, or Tin Islands, which for so many ages were 
 *hid from those who sailed the main.' There can be no 
 doubt that the tin of Dartmoor was worked at a very early 
 period, nor that the harbours of Devonshire were the chief 
 
DEVONSHIEE. 
 
 313 
 
 emporia from which it was conveyed across to the neigh- 
 bouring continent, or on board the ships of Phcenician traders. 
 Exeter, the ' Oaer Isc ' of the Britons, situated, like most 
 Celtic towns, just at the point where the river ceases to be 
 navigable, seems to have been — so far, at least, as what is now 
 Devonshire is concerned (Sir Henry James has revived, 
 and with very strong arguments, the claims- of St. Michael's 
 Mount to represent the ancient Iktis) — a principal centre of 
 this ancient traffic. A road, partly accompanying and partly 
 identical with the Icenhilde Way, has been traced quite across 
 the island from Exeter to Yarmouth, resembling, in its 
 general character, the better-known ' Pilgrim's Way ' which 
 ran from Southampton or its neighbourhood to the eastern 
 coast of Kent. These roads are certainly not of Roman 
 origin, and they • apparently indicate a very ancient com- 
 mercial intercourse with Armorica (the Veneti?) on the one 
 hand, and the Teutonic tribes in the neighbourhood of the 
 Rhine on the other. Much tin may have been exported from 
 other Devonshire harbours — from the mouths of the Dart and 
 the Plym, for instance, both ancient points of departure for 
 the opposite shores of the continent ; but the relics which 
 have been discovered in so great numbers at Exeter — ^in- 
 cluding numerous coins of the Greek dynasties of Syria and 
 Egypt* — afford a more certain proof of its great importance 
 as the centre of the Mediterranean tin trade, long before the 
 appearance in the West of the legions of Vespasian. In order 
 to find the yet lingering traces of the tribes who laboured 
 in the mines and stream-works, and who peopled the deep 
 coombes of Devonshire at that distant day, we must chmb the 
 
 * Numerous coins of Antioch, Chalcis, Zeugma on the Euphrates, 
 and Alexandria, have been discovered at Exeter — always at great - 
 depths. In 1810 a large quantity were found about twenty feet below 
 the surface of the. present Pore Street, which is in fact the Icenhilde 
 Way. Figures of some of these coins may be seen in Mr. Shortt'a 
 Sflva Antiqua Isecma. 
 
314 DBVONSHIBE. 
 
 heights of Dartmoor, and wander over the dusky moorland, 
 amidst whose solitudes they have been preserved. Here, 
 remains of the so-called ' primaeval ' period^ — cairns, kistvaens, 
 stone cifcles, and avenues of upright stones or parallelitha — 
 abound, and, although of comparatively small size, derive a 
 peculiar impressiveness from the wild character of the land- 
 scape in which they are set. Among them the 'parallelitha' 
 — as archaeologists have agreed to call the long rows of 
 upright stones, placed at regular distances from each other, 
 opening here and there into circles, and extending far along 
 the hill-side — are almost peculiar to Dartmoor, and deserve 
 perhaps more attention than they have hitherto received from 
 Celtic antiquaries. On a small scale they resemble the famous 
 avenues at Oarnac, in Brittany. The most important have 
 been described by Mr. Rowe ; but there is scarcely a heather- 
 clad tor which does not possess at least one of these avenues, 
 more or less perfect, half hidden among the fern and heath, 
 and generally terminating close to some brook or streamlet. 
 Their olgect is altogether unknown, and few archaeologists 
 will now be disposed to acquiesce in the fantastic Heho-arkite 
 theory with which Mr. Rowe has attempted to connect them. 
 Rude stone foundations of huts, not unlike the Irish *clog- 
 hauns,' and indications of ancient mine-works, are generally 
 found in their vicinity j yet it is singular that no (or at any 
 rate but one or two, and those imperfect) similar avenues 
 exist in Cornwall, where other Celtic remains abound, and 
 that no tradition whatever respecting them has been preserved 
 among the Devonshire or Cornish miners — a class of men 
 most retentive of all ancient customs and usages connected 
 with their work. Local folk-lore asserts that the stone 
 avenues on Dartmoor, like the hut-circles and the kistvaens, 
 were erected in far distant times, when winged serpents 
 frequented the hills, and wolves inhabited the valleys.* 
 
 * Mi. Kemble has suggested that some such remains as these are 
 
DEVONSHIRE. 316 
 
 The whole of this period, however, belongs more or less to 
 the mythic sera of winged serpents. Historically we know 
 nothing concerning it, and its few surviving relics — coin, or 
 trackway, or rude stone monument — ^return but very uncertain 
 answers to our questions. Nor is the case much altered when 
 the Romans appear on the stage. No complete narrative has 
 been preserved of the conquest of the west of Britain by the 
 lieutenant of Aulus Plautius, in command of the famous 
 Second Legion, and we are left to conjecture — though that 
 conjecture amounts to all but a certainty — ^that one of the 
 two ' validissimae gentes,' which, according to Suetonius, 
 were subdued by Vespasian on this expedition, was that of 
 the Damnonii. The struggle for the ' garden of Britain,' as 
 Dean Merivale somewhat prospectively calls the then wild 
 country of Damnonia, judging from the numerous camps and 
 entrenchments which crest the hills, and from the thirty-two 
 battles mentioned by Eutropius, must have been a severe one. 
 Exeter, it is probable, was stiU important on account of its 
 tin trade, and its possession may have been one of the chief 
 inducements toward the conquest of the West. Coins of 
 Claudius in great numbers, indicating a very early occupation 
 of the city, have been found within its walls ; and the last and 
 best historian of Imperial Rome is disposed to regard the 
 strong camps which guard on either side the narrow gorge of 
 the Teign as having witnessed the final struggles between 
 Roman and Damnonian.* The scene is at any rate picturesque 
 enough for the last act of the drama ; and the antiquary, as he 
 traces the strong Unes of Wooston, or struggles upward to 
 the watch-tower of Prestonbury, may please himself with the 
 conjecture ibat it was during the attack on one of these 
 
 referred to in early Saxon charters, where 'stkn-rsewe'are occasionally 
 mentioned as boundaries, without any marked epithet implying their 
 antiquity. {Arch. Journal, vol. xiv.) 
 
 * Meiivale's Sist. of the Bomcms tmder the Em^e, vol. vi. p. 2& 
 
316 DEVONSHIEE. 
 
 fortresses that the life of Vespasian was saved by his son 
 Titus, then a novice in arms. The incident occurred, at all 
 events, during this Western campaign. 
 
 "With the exception of numerous relics brought to light 
 from time to time at Exeter, Eome has left but few traces of 
 her four hundred years' occupation of Devonshire. " A beauti- 
 ful tesselated pavement, discovered at Uplyme, in August, 
 1850, and foundations at a place called Honeyditches, near 
 Seaton, are the only traces of villas which have been found 
 throughout the county. But Devonshire and Cornwall 
 abounded in. metal ; the strength of the inhabitants was not 
 to be despised ; and although the new masters of Damnonia 
 seem to have found small inducement to create a British Baias 
 at Torquay or Teignmouth, their usual methods for keeping 
 in check a newly subdued country, and for developing its 
 resources, were not neglected here. The Icenhilde Way, 
 which seems to have joined the Foss at Seaton,* was con- 
 tinued westward into Cornwall, and nearly to the Land's 
 End. Besides the colony of Isca, the most important Roman 
 city in the West, there were two smaller stations on this road, 
 at the points where it crossed the Dart and the Tamar. The 
 line of road itself possibly followed that of an earlier- British 
 trackway ; but its broad, well-marked crest, still visible in 
 many parts of its course,, stamps it unmistakably as a Roman 
 work ; and the piers and foundations of a Roman bridge were 
 discovered about fifty years since in the neighbourhood of 
 Newton Abbot, at the place — still called the ' Hackneild ford ' 
 — ^where the road crossed the Teign. Throughout its whole 
 course from Exeter to the Tamar, this ancient road followed 
 much of the same line as the South. Devon Railway, though 
 it managed to avoid the diflSculties of rock and sea-shore 
 which were voluntarily encountered by Mr. Brunei. 
 
 * See Dr. Guest's Essay on the Fovu- Roman Ways, Arch. Journal, 
 vol. xiv. 
 
DEVONSHIBE. 317 
 
 A Roman relic of a different ciiaraeter is the famous legend 
 of Brutus of Troy, wliicli from the first was connected with 
 the coast of Devonshire. The Brito-Romans, like the Gauls 
 and other races of the West, were not unwilling to share the 
 most honoured traditions of their new masters ; and the 
 Romans themselves prohably found their full account in im- 
 posing them. Thus the ' littus Totonesium' became to the 
 Briton what the shore of Latium was to the descendant of the 
 ' pious ^neas ; ' and the barbaric stream of the Dart might 
 claim a distant cousinship with the 
 
 ' Cseruleus Tibris, coelo gratissimus anmis.' 
 
 The ' Totnes strand ' extended at least from Berry Head to 
 the Bolt, and lies directly opposite the point at which the 
 coast of France trends away towards the south. Prawle 
 Point, the most southerly headland of Devonshire, stretch- 
 ing out between Berry Head and the Bolt, and Point 
 St. Matthieu on the opposite coast of Brittany, thus became 
 marked 'stations' for the early mariners who ventured to 
 cross the stormy British sea.* A tradition of some actual 
 landing upon this part of the coast may possibly have been 
 used as their groundwork by the Roman legend-writers ; but 
 the fabric which they constructed evidently made no slight 
 
 * 'Prol in Anglia' (Prawle Point) is mentioned by an ancient com- 
 mentator on Adam of Bremen's Historia Ecclesiagtica as one of the 
 stations at which vessels touched in their voyage from Bipa in Den- 
 mark to the Holy Land. The passage was made from the ' Sincfala' 
 — an arm of the sea which formerly ran up to Damme, the port of 
 Bruges — to ' Prol, ' in two days and a night. The station beyond ' Prol ' 
 is St. Matthieu — one day's sail. Adam of Bremen dates about 1070, 
 and his commentator a httle later. The original 'Totnes' (the 'pro- 
 jecting ness or headland' — A.S. totten, to project — so Tothill, Totte- 
 ridge) may have been either Berry Head or Prawle. The whole coast 
 was named from it ; and the landing of Brutus is fixed by Layamon 
 (ab. 1205) at 'Dertemuthe in Totenes.' The name of the entire dis- 
 trict became at last confined to its chief town — ^probably of British 
 foundation. 
 
318 DEVONSHIRB. 
 
 impression on the native islanders, and became the approved 
 version of their early history and origin. The stone on which 
 ' Sir Bnitus,' as the later romancers called him, first set his 
 foot, is still pointed out in the picturesque old town of Totnes, 
 to which place, as the local rhyme asserts, he first gave its 
 name : — 
 
 ' Here I stand and here I rest, 
 And this place shall be called Totnes.' 
 
 His companion, the valiant Gorineus, 
 
 ' Li duk syre Corinde, qui conqnist ComewaiUes,' 
 proceeded westward along the coast to Plymouth, where he 
 encountered Goemot, the most powerful of the giant race by 
 which alone the island was at that time peopled. Groemot 
 was overthrown and killed in a wrestling match with Gori- 
 neus, who became the ancestor of all Cornishmen, and who is 
 supposed to be the 'giant Gormoran,' or, more properly, 
 Corinoran, of whom mention is made in the veritable history 
 of Jack the Giant-killer. The struggle between these mighty 
 men of valour was recorded, at least as late as Elizabeth's 
 time, by what Garew calls the ' pourtrayture of two men with 
 clubbes in their hands,' cut on the turf of the Hoe at Ply- 
 mouth ; and the steps by which Gorineus, after his victory, 
 dragged the body of Goemot to the edge of the cliff, whence 
 he flung it into the sea, were pointed out until very recently. 
 A payment of 8d. ' for new cutting of the Gogmagoge on 
 the Howe' appears in the town annals 'for 1567; but the 
 ' pourtraytures ' have received more poetic commemoration. 
 Spenser, in that part of the Faerie Queene where he records 
 the early history of Britain and the arrival of Brutus, thus 
 apparently refers to them : — 
 
 ' But ere he had established his throne, 
 
 And spread his empire to the utmost shorei 
 He fought great battles with his salvage fone. 
 In which he them defeated evermore, 
 And many giants left on groaning flore : 
 
DEVONSHIRE. 319 
 
 That ■well can -witness yet unto this day 
 
 The Western Hogh, besprinkled with the gore 
 Of mighty Goemot, whom in stout fray 
 Corineus conquerSd, and cruelly did slay.'* 
 
 Can Spenser himself have visited 'the Western Hogh' when 
 on his way to or from Ireland ? or had he learned its tradi- 
 tions from his patron Raleigh, to whom they must have been 
 suflSciently familiar ? 
 
 The intercourse with Brittany, for which the position of 
 the ' Totnes shore ' afforded so great facility, was evidently 
 sustained during the last years of Roman domination, and 
 during the advance of the English westward. This latter 
 period is one of the highest interest and importance. It is 
 clear that the conquests of the kings of Wessex, west and 
 south of the Hampshire and Somersetshire 'Avon' rivers, 
 were of a very different character from their first settlements 
 in the south-eastern parts of Britain. The Britons of Devon- 
 shire and Cornwall appear, after the departure of the Roman 
 legions, under the rule of their own princes, whose power 
 was evidently considerable, and who, during the struggle 
 they had to sustain with the Saxons, found important assist- 
 ance in the possession of the harbours from which the passage 
 was usually made from the Greater Britain to the Lesser. 
 For more than half a century, in conjunction with the Cymric 
 princes of Wales, they compelled the West Saxons to respect 
 the boundaries which had been agreed on between the two 
 peoples : and it should be added, for the special honour of the 
 county, that the famous Arthur, the ' flower of kings,' and 
 the glory of later romance, by whose victories the establish- 
 ment of those boundaries was apparently first effected, is to 
 be regarded as one of the earliest and greatest ' worthies of 
 Devon.' Such is at all events the judgment of the two 
 writers best qualified to pronounce on so difficult a question — 
 
 * Book ii., canto 10. 
 
320 DEVONSHIRE. 
 
 Mr. Rees and Dr. Q-uest, bott of whom consider the historic 
 Arthur to have been a member of the royal house of 
 Damnonia. The power of these Western princes, however, 
 was soon greatly broken; and as the West-Sexe pushed 
 themselves downward from the borders of Exmoor, and 
 gradually established themselves in Devonshire, they either 
 incorporated such of the older inhabitants as remained, with 
 their own families, or the two peoples dwelt peaceably side by 
 side, the Britons no doubt paying some kind of Hack mail to 
 the invading and more powerful race. In Kent, in Sussex, 
 and in Hants, where the English had appeared nearly two 
 centuries before as heathen adventurers,- the Britons had 
 been exterminated. In Devon and Cornwall their chiefs 
 became the 'Eege men' of the kings of Wessex, who were 
 now Christian princes. Nor were they so completely power- 
 less as to cause no uneasiness to their English masters, until 
 Athelstan, ' lord of eafls and giver of bracelets,' led his 'host ' 
 into Devonshire in the year 926 ; defeated Hoel, chief of the 
 western Britons, in a battle, the scene of which has been 
 traditionally fixed on Haldon, near Exeter ; expelled the 
 Britons from the old Roman city of Isca, which they had 
 hitherto inhabited in common with English ; and fixed the 
 Tamar as the boundary between the two races. From this 
 time the Britons of 'West Wales' — the name given to 
 Devonshire and Cornwall in the Saxon Chronicle — were 
 effectually quieted, and the line of their native princes can no 
 longer be traced. 
 
 The Saxon kings of Wessex had become Christian before 
 they advanced far into Devonshire — d fact which will partly 
 account for their new policy of conciliation, and which must 
 have prevented the destruction of such religious buildings as 
 already existed in the country. The Christian English, in 
 Devonshire as elsewhere, bore witness, by more than one 
 remarkable example, to the ' deep, earnest, conscientious spirit 
 
DEVONSHIBB. 321 
 
 of self-sacrifice and love of truth which characterised the 
 -nation.'* Looking down upon the valley of Crediton, the 
 first seat of the bishopric — a scene which, with its quiet green 
 meadows, its church embosomed among trees, and the roofs 
 of the old town struggling upward between the steep hills on 
 either side, recaUs, and most of all beneath the rosy flush of 
 sunset, some exquisite landscape by Turner — ^who does not feel 
 that its interest is increased tenfold when, he remembers that 
 somewhere in the valley below him rose the timbered hall of 
 the English thane, beneath whose rafters Winfrith of Orediton 
 — the St. Boniface who carried the word of truth to the 
 kindred races of Central Germany — first saw the light ? In 
 the disposition of the ancient Saxon ' host ' it is asserted that 
 the men of Kent claimed the van, whilst the not less honour- 
 able post of rear-guard was assigned to the soldiers of Devon- 
 shire. It would seem that they coveted the post of danger in 
 a nobler warfare. If Kent was the first corner of English 
 ground which became Christian, Devonshire, after the fiery 
 cross had been passed onward, supplied the leader -who was 
 to convey it across the narrow seas to the ancient country 
 and homes of the Teutons. Fulda, the great monastery which 
 he founded, and Maintz, the see over which he presided as 
 archbishop, bore witness to him; on the Continent; and we 
 may trace the principal events of his life in the frescoes which 
 adorn his beautiful basilica at Munich. In his native valley 
 his only record is a well, which still bears his name, and 
 which, it is pleasant to think, may have suppUed water for the 
 baptism of one who was afterwards to ' sprinkle with healing 
 drops ' so many thousands of the fierce sons of Woden. 
 
 St. Boniface was martyred 5th June, 755 ; but it is probable 
 
 that the selection of Crediton as the seat of the Devonshire 
 
 bishopric, first established in the early part of the 10th 
 
 century, after Athelstan's victories in the west, was made 
 
 * Kemble, Sax. m England. 
 
 21 
 
322 DEVONSHIEB. 
 
 from the respect with which it was regarded as the birthplace 
 
 of the German apostle. The dust of some of the primitive 
 
 bishops is perhaps still reposing there ; but the present church 
 
 is of far later date ; and to find any relic of those ancient 
 
 days we must visit Ooplestone Cross — ^perhaps originally a 
 
 boundary of the parish, but which no doubt also served, after 
 
 the good old English fashion, to mark a place where the 
 
 remoter ' ceorls ' might resort to offer their devotions. Its 
 
 sides are covered with the quaint interlacing ornaments so 
 
 familiar to us in the illuminations of Saxon manuscripts, 
 
 and display the fractures and the weather stains of nearly a 
 
 thousand years. The family of Oopleston^ — ' Esquires of the 
 
 White Spur ' — one of the most ancient in Devonshire — 
 
 ' Crocker, Oruwys, and Ooplestone, 
 When the Conqueror came, were found at home' — 
 
 of which the late Bishop of Llandaff was a member, takes its 
 
 name from this cross — ^the ' chief stone ' (copp, A.S.— a head) 
 
 of the district. 
 
 One other relic of the old English bishopric exists in the 
 
 well-known and very remarkable manuscript, 'The Great 
 
 Book in which all things are wrought poetry-vsdse,' which 
 
 Leofric, the last bishop of Crediton, — in whose days (a.d, 
 
 1050) the seat of the bishopric, for the sake of greater 
 
 security, was removed to. Exeter, — ^left by will to his cathedral. 
 
 It is still carefuUy guarded by the cathedral authorities, and 
 
 reposes, apart from less far-descended volumes, side by side 
 
 with the manuscript of the Exon Domesday. The contents of 
 
 this venerable Codex have been made generally available by 
 
 Mr. Thorpe, whose volume is in the hands of all Saxon 
 
 scholars.* 
 
 * It is probably more by good fortune than by intentional reserva- 
 tion that this ' great book ' is stiU at Exeter. In 1602 the Dean and 
 Chapter of Exeter gave to fhe newly established library of Sir Thomas 
 Bodley, at Oxford, eighty-one Latin MSS. from the stores of their own 
 chapter library. Many of these MSS. are fine and early. Among 
 
DEVONSHIEE. 323 
 
 We have dwelt at some length upon the early intermixture 
 of English and Britons throughout Devonshire^ because we 
 believe that in more than one way it has left traces which are 
 even now distinguishable. Not only are Celtic names of 
 places found scattered all over Devonshire, side by side with 
 those of Teutonic origin, but among the peasantry them- 
 selves, especially in the southern division of the county, two 
 very distinct types may be recognised. One exhibits the fair 
 hair, blue eyes, and dehcate features, which make up the 
 true English ideal — ' Non Angli sed angeli ;' the other, not 
 less strongly marked, displays the longer features, the black 
 hair, and the 'colorati vultus,' which Tacitus describes as 
 characteristic of the Silures of South Wales, and which may 
 be seen in perfection among the acknowledged descendants of 
 the old Cornish. This latter type seems to us to be that of 
 the ancient Damnonii, once the lords of ' West Wales.' Its 
 very counterpart is found on the opposite shores of Brittany, 
 where a new Damnonia was formed by those Britons who 
 voluntarily exiled themselves from Devonshire : and the 
 Breton peasant, with his floating black hair, his gay ribbons, 
 his vast sUver buckles, and his creed of half-heathen super- 
 stitions, might still find his brother, though somewhat less 
 picturesquely clad, on the moors and in the deep valleys 
 which he left himself so many centuries ago. 
 
 The resemblance is certainly not less striking in the matter 
 
 them is a service-book given to Exeter by Leofric ; and four other 
 manuscripts, which also were gifts of the same bishop to his church. 
 These ' donations ' to the Bodleian were probably made at the 
 instance of Lawrence Bodley, Rector of Shobrook and Canon of 
 Exeter. He was a younger brother of Sir Thomas Bodley, to whose 
 ' chargeable work ' at Oxford, as Westoote tells us, he was ' greatly 
 assistant.' What possible right he or the chapter could have had to 
 alienate their property does not appear. At any rate, they set at 
 nought the malediction written in each volume by Leofric or his mass- 
 priest. This delivers 'to bondage with all the devils' whosoever 
 should abstract the books from St. Peter's minster at Exeter. 
 
324 DEVONSHIEB, 
 
 of superstition. Without going so far as Sir John Bowring, 
 who apologises for the superstitions of the Siamese by sug- 
 gesting that ' his native county of Devon ' might supply 
 examples of local folk-lore scarcely less marvellous, we suspect 
 that there are few corners of England in which so much of 
 heathendom still survives. The Penitential of Bishop Bar- 
 tholomew of Exetfer (1161 — 1186) has been preserved. Many 
 of the heathen practices and beliefs which it condemns, lycan- 
 thropy among others, have disappeared from the west ; but a 
 long string of superstitions remains, which are perhaps as 
 vigorous and Hfe-hke at present as in the twelfth century, or 
 even as in that earlier time when King Athelstan, in the 
 midst of his ' witan ' at Exeter, set forth his ' dooms ' against 
 the evil practices of witches and warlocks. The peasantry 
 of the remotier Devonshire parishes seem to have changed 
 their homes but little since' the time "of the Conquest. At all 
 events, many of the existing registers are found io contain 
 the same surnames since their commencement in the days of 
 Elizabeth— 
 
 ' So far more -safe the vassal than the lord.' 
 
 Hence the same wild creed has been handed down from gen- 
 eration to generation : the same spots on the lonely moor, 
 and the same gloomy ' pools ' in the river that were shunned 
 by his forefathers, are avoided as ' critical ' (to use his own 
 word) by the Dfevonshire peasant now : and many of the 
 same ' carmina ' and ' incantationes ' that were solemnly con- 
 demned by Bishop Bartholomew may still be found in active 
 use among the wise women on the borders of Dartmoor. It 
 is, perhaps, scarcely possible to make any exact division of 
 the existing folk-lore between Celt and Teuton ; though it is 
 true that, for the most part, Celtic superstition is gentler and 
 brighter than that of the North, which 
 
 ' Deepens the murmur of the falling floods, 
 And breathes a browner horror on the woods ; ' 
 
DEVONSHIEB. 325 
 
 but it is certain that in Devonshire the intermixture of the 
 two races .may be traced in folk-lore, not less distinctly than 
 in dialect or in features. ' Arthur's Quoit ' — a huge granite 
 block on the edge of Dartmoor — looks, or did look, across to 
 * Athelstan's Chair,' on .the side of the. adjoining tor ; and 
 Sigmund the Waelsing, who .among our EogHsh ancestors 
 represented Sigfried, the great hero of the Niebelungen-lied, 
 has apparently left his name to the deep pool of Simonsbath 
 on the Barle, in which he is said to have taken a daily 
 plunge (his 'castle' was Simonsbury, on the march line 
 between Devonshire and Somersetshire), and again, side 
 by side with traditions of King Arthur, to the parish of 
 Simonsward in Cornwall. The names of. the British king 
 and of the: old Teutpnia. hero occur, in, both cases, in 
 districts .which are still lonely and uncultivated, and which 
 probably served, at one period of the English conquest, 
 as. ' marks ' or boundaries, always regarded as sacred, and 
 placed uadecthe protection of some deity or hero.. But the 
 great ' mark ' of DevonsMre^the border which ^protected the 
 struggling Briton, and to whose long mysterious range of 
 heights and hollows the English colonist looked up from his 
 cultivated fields with an undefined terror — was Dartmoor. 
 It is stiU the chief guardian of Devonshire folk-lore ; and 
 whoever may find himself in the heart of its lonely wastes 
 when daylight is closing, and the air seems to fill with 
 
 ' undesoribed sounds 
 That come a-swooning over hollow ground, 
 Aiid wither drearily on barren moors,' 
 
 will scarcely wonder that the spirits , of the elder world should 
 not yet have been effectually dislodged from thei^ ancient 
 solitudes. Except that the howl of the wolf is no longer to 
 be heard, and that the red deer, the old ' burgesses ' of the 
 forest, have been completely extirpated, the whole district is 
 stm thasame as in the days of Athelstan or of Canute, and 
 
326 DEVONSHIRE. 
 
 the terrors of the ancient borderland still cling about it. No 
 Devonshire peasant cares to venture upon it, except in com- 
 pany. The Pixies, thoroughly mischievous elves, who dehght 
 to lead all wanderers astray, dwell in the clefts of broken 
 granite, and dance on the greensward by the side of the hiQ 
 streams. The 'wish-hounds,' breathing flame, and attended 
 by a swart ' master,' who carries a hunting-pole, wander in 
 packs over the dusky wastes of heather. The circles of grey 
 stones which mark the last resting-places of the Celts, become 
 endowed, at midday and -at midnight, with a mysterious vital- 
 ity, and dance Eke the Pixies ; and the rivers themselves, 
 whidi have their sources on Dartmoor, still retain something 
 of the reverence with which they were anciently regarded. 
 They are spoken of, as Sir Walter Scott has remarked of the 
 great rivers of Seotl^id, with a certain respect, and an almost 
 personal character is attributed to them. 'Dart' especially — 
 the Dart is rarely heard— bears traces of his former distinction. 
 The 'cry of Dart,' as the moormen call that louder sound 
 which rises from all mountain streams toward nightfall, is 
 ominous, and a sure warning of approaching evil when heard 
 at an unusual distance. His waters become tinged with blue 
 when about to receive a victim — no very rare occurrence. 
 The local rhyme runs thus- — 
 
 ' River of Dairt, O river of Dart, 
 Every year thou claim'st a heart; ' 
 
 answering curiously to the Oerman saying, that ' the river- 
 spirit (flussgeist) claims his yearly offering.' * 
 
 The rock and river worship, of which these are evident 
 relics, belonged equally to Celt and Teuton. The Pixies, 
 only found in the western counties, may be traced back both 
 by name (^Pwc, a goblin) and by their more graceful nature, 
 to a British origin. They are the Tylwith Tig (fair family) 
 of Wales. In Devonshire, and especially on Dartmoor, they 
 are seldom visible except as shapeless bundles of rags— ra 
 * Grimm, D. ^thol. p. 462. 
 
DEVONSHIRE. 327 
 
 peculiarity which seems to belong to them alone among the 
 many tribes of fairy-land. Sometinies, but very rarely, they 
 are seen dancing by the streams dressed in green, the true 
 livery of the small people. They ride horses at night, and 
 tangle their manes into inextricable knots. They may be 
 heard pounding their cider and threshing their wheat far 
 within the recesses of their 'house' on Sheepstor — a cavern 
 formed by overhanging blocks of granite. Deep river pools 
 and deceitful morasses, over which the cotton grass flutters 
 its white tassels, are thought to be the 'gates' of their country, 
 where they possess diminutive flocks and herds of their own. 
 Malicious, yet hardly demoniacal, they are precisely Dryden's 
 I spirits of a middle sort ' — 
 
 ' Too black for heaven, and yet too white for hell, 
 Who just dropped half-way down, nor lower fell ' — 
 
 a diaracter which cannot, however, be assigned to their 
 unearthly companions, the wish-hounds. 
 
 These have no redeeming tinge of wMte, and belong to the 
 gloomiest portion of the under-world. The wild hunt of Dart^ 
 moor is one of those superstitions common to all the north of 
 Europe ; but in the especial form which it here takes, it is, no 
 doubt, a legacy from old English heathendom, and the 'master' 
 is the yet lingering representative of Woden, under whose 
 protection the mark or boundary was, according to Kemble, 
 chiefly placed. 'Wise' or 'wish' was, we learn from the 
 same authority, a name of that grim old deity (lord of the 
 wish or desire); and ' whishtness' is still the Devonshire name 
 for all kinds of supernaturalism. The distant cry of the 
 wish-hounds may frequently be heard, in the solitary recesses 
 of the moors, at noontide, on a Sunday :* and there are some 
 
 * The wild ' Jager' of Germany also hunts on Sundays. So Burger's 
 ballad — 
 
 ' The beams of God's own blessed day 
 Had tinted yonder spire with gold, 
 .And, calling sinful man to pray, 
 Xoud, long, and dejep, the bell had toUed.' 
 
328 DEVONSHIEB. 
 
 remarkable legends wMcli tell of their appearance in cHurch 
 during service time, and of the exorcisms by which they were 
 expelled, a piece of ' witchery in broad daylight ' which takes 
 us back to -the struggle between the heathens and advancing 
 Christianity. For, although the ' West Sexe ' were nominally 
 Christians when they began to make permanent settlements in 
 Devonshire, they certainly brought with them the heroes and 
 deities of their former ■ creed very httle, if at all, lessened in 
 influence. The local names- which in Kent and Hampshire 
 so frequently indicate sites of the' old religion are equally 
 found in- Devonshire ; - and from many a green hiUock and 
 lichen-tinted rock there starts up, at the touch of the etymolo- 
 gist's spear, some antique goblin — 
 
 '. . . .'of regal port, 
 And faded splendour wan ' — 
 
 whose very name has long since been forgotten. We might 
 proceed to trace these and other relics of the ancient creed in 
 the local legends, such as that which assigns the raising of 
 the great cromlech at Drewsteignton to three ' spinsters ' — no 
 doubt the Saxon fates, the ' mighty wives ' who were spinners 
 and weavers, and had much in common with the Valkyriur — 
 the ' fatal sisters ' of Grray's well-known poem ; or in the 
 traditions which belong to the more ancient families, such as 
 that of the white bird which is said to forewarn the Oxenhams 
 of approaching death. But we must hasten to quit this en- 
 chanted ground, over which the ' small people ' seem to cast 
 something of their- own influence, so difficult is it to break 
 loose from its fascinations. Of the remaining superstitions 
 of Devonshire, active as they are for good or for ill, it is hardly 
 necessary to say much. They differ little, except, perhaps, 
 in their greater life and diffusion, from those of other coun- 
 ties. The white witch drives a good business, for which she 
 is partly indebted to her blacker sister, who ' lays spells ' and 
 s,' so as to — 
 
DEVONSHIEE. 329 
 
 'Hurt far off, unknown, whomever she espies.' 
 
 The process of healing, as brought about by the white witch, 
 involves a number of charms and rhythmical forms, many of 
 which are of the highest antiquity. It was one of these 
 which enabled Grimm to complete a Saxon charm of the 
 heathen period, a fragment of which he had discovered in an 
 ancient manuscript. 
 
 Exeter was still the most important city of the West at the 
 period of the Conquest, when Gytha, the mother of Harold, 
 took refuge within its walls, whence, after the - city had sub- 
 mitted to the Conqueror, she escaped to the Flat-holm, and 
 then to St. Omer.- The details of the siege are preserved to 
 us by Ordericus, whose narrative indicates that the port was 
 frequented by numerous merchants, by whom the tin and 
 wool of the mooriands were, no doubt, conveyed to the com- 
 mercial towns of Flanders, then commencing their career of 
 prosperity. Of the castle of Rougemont, which William 
 founded close within the walls of the city (the position is 
 precisely that of other Norman castles, such as Canterbury 
 and Rochester), only the- fragment of a gate-tower, and this 
 of late Norman character, remains.* Other Norman castles 
 rose speedily on the 'honours' of the principal leaders who 
 had followed the Conqueror into the West (which he did 
 not visit for more than, twelve months after the battle of 
 Hastings), and had received their share of the spoil. Pow- 
 derham, guarding the entrance of the Exe, and first built by 
 WiUiam, Count of Eu, also founder of the castle of Hastings ; 
 Okehampton, overlooking 'the woodland and the waste,' 
 whose fine Edwardian ruins, shadowed by great ash-trees, 
 and washed by the brawHng stream of the Ockment, are 
 among the most picturesque remains in Devonshire, and 
 
 * The history of Exeter at this time has been fully told, and with 
 complete knowledge of the ground, by Mr. E. A. Freeman, Norm,. 
 Conquest, vol. iv. . 
 
330 DEVONSHIEE. 
 
 whose park is nightly visited, in her gilt coach, by the ghost 
 of one of its former possessors — a, Lady Howard, attended by 
 a black hound, who carries off in his mouth a single blade of 
 grass : a penance which is to continue untU the whole park 
 is bare ; Totnes, the castle of Judicael, son of Alured the 
 giant, the keep of which still commands, from its lofty mound, 
 the winding stream of the Dart ; Berry Pomeroy, in the 
 midst of its thick woods, which, besides the ivy-covered ruins 
 of a vast Tudor mansion, built by the Seymours, retains some 
 portions of the stronghold of the Pomeroys, fragments of 
 whose Norman castle also exist in the Cinglais, not far from 
 Falaise ; Plympton, with its circular Norman keep, which 
 protected the rich valley stretching upwards from the point 
 where the Plym ceases to be navigable ; Lidford, the head 
 of the royal forest of Dartmoor and the prison of the 
 Stannary Courts — 
 
 ' Where in the mom they hang and draw, 
 Then sit in judgment after ' — 
 
 appropriately haunted by the ghost of Judge Jeffries, in the 
 shape of a black pig ; and Tiverton — one of iJie castles of the 
 De Redvers, Earls of Devon, and afterwards of the ' Court- 
 jiays — were the princij)al strongholds constructed by the 
 Normans iu Devonshire immediately after the Conquest. 
 None of these, and, perhaps, not even the Exeter Castle of 
 Rougemont, were fortresses of the first class. Against the 
 native Enghsh, scattered and few in numbea-, only slight 
 ■defences were required ; but the coast on either side, open 
 to hostile descents both from Brittany and Ireland, demanded 
 careful watching, and the greater number of the Devonshire 
 castles are accordiugly situated either on the banks .of navi- 
 gable rivers, or at no great distance from the sea. But if 
 Englishman and Cornishman were little to be feared, sutfi- 
 ..cient troubles speedily arose among the Normans themselves, 
 
DEVONSHIEE. 331 
 
 and the houses of the first great feudal lords of Devonshire 
 rapidly became extinct. Few can be traced beyond two or 
 three generations. The Pomeroys indeed continued lords of 
 their original castle until the reign of Edward VI., when Sir 
 Thomas Pomeroy joined the Devonshire rising for the old 
 rehgion, and lost his lands in consequence ; but, with one 
 remarkable exception — that of the Bastards, who still remain 
 on their ancient estates, and whose cousins in Normandy 
 possessed until recently the primitive chateau of the race — 
 there is not a single Devonshire family the direct descent of 
 which can be traced from an ancestor whose name is recorded 
 in the Exon Domesday.* The blazonries which, during the 
 feudal period, became most familiarly known among the hiUs 
 and valleys of the West were those of Norman houses which 
 replaced the first settlers. The sable cross of Mohun j the 
 three horseshoes of Ferrers; the lozenges and ermine of 
 Dinham; the red Eon of Nonantj the vermilion bends of 
 Tracy, whose connexion with Devonshire has been so curiously 
 illustrated by Dr. Stanley ; the twelve golden billets of Cham- 
 pernowne ; the silver bend of Fortescue ; and, most famous 
 of all, the three torteauxes of Courtenay ; these, and many a 
 less distinguished ' coat armour,' were displayed on the 
 embroidered banner that floated over the donjon-keep, or 
 amidst ' solemn pageantries ' enriching the stained windows 
 of minster and of chantry ; and it is, for the most part, the 
 bearings of these later families, and of those by which they 
 were in turn succeeded, that remain to be traced on the 
 
 * It is probable, however, though it cannot be directly proved, that 
 some of the lesser Devpnshire families are descended from Norman 
 sub-tenants, mentioned in Domesday : and some of the old English 
 families certainly survived the Conquest. Perhaps amongst these 
 shoiild be classed the Fulf ords of Great Fulfoid — one of the most dis- 
 tinguished families in the county — who can point to a series of ancestors, 
 taking honourable part in the great events of their times, from the reign 
 of Edward I., whom Sir Amys de Fulford accompanied to the Holy 
 Land. 
 
332 DEVONSHIBB. 
 
 shields of such mail-clad knights as are reposing ' in their 
 habits, as they Hved,' on the altar-tombs of the western 
 churches. 
 
 In monuments of this class, and in sepulchral brasses — 
 no untrustworthy guides to the ancient condition of a pro- 
 vince — Devonshire is far from deficient. They are scattered 
 throughout the entire county, and frequently occur in 
 remote churches, among the hills, or on, the edge of the 
 moorland, to which access is even now difficult, and where 
 we should least expect ta find such memorials of former 
 prosperity. One of the earliest and most interesting effigies 
 is that (d Sir Stephen de Haccombe,. in Haccombe Church, 
 dating from the reign of Edward I. Exeter Cathedral 
 contains a good series of early bishops, among, which, the ■ 
 effigy of Bishop Bxonescombe, a native of Exeter^ who died 
 in the year 1280, is especially striking. In Creditoa Church 
 is an effigy supposed to be that of Sir John Sully, a venerable 
 warrior, who was present at the fight of Halidon Hill, at the 
 siege of Berwick, at the battles, of Cressy, Najara, and 
 Poictiers, and who, at. the age of 105, gave his evidence on 
 what is known to .heralds . as the ' Scrope and G-rosvenor 
 controversy.' Altar-tombs and effigies,, however, are not so 
 numerous in Devonshire as brasses, of which-^although they 
 have not escaped the usual fate of such memorials, many of 
 them, perhaps the finest, having been either removed or 
 destroyed — a sufficient number remain, ranging from the 
 14th to the 17th centuries, to afford a series of very high 
 value and interest. There are none, indeed, which can rival 
 the best of those in the eastern and southern counties, where 
 French and FlemiA' artists were frequently employed ; but 
 the work of those in Devonshire is generally good, their 
 details graceful, and, with some few exceptions, they main- 
 tain their position as works of art till the end of the 16th 
 century. Only two ecclesiastical examples occur. The most 
 
DEVONSHIBE. 333 
 
 complete series relating to a sipgle family is at Haccombe, a 
 church unusually rich in monuments, where are five brasses 
 of Carews ; the earliest, dating from 1469, being that of the 
 ' armiger insignis ' Sir Nicholas, whose time-worn features 
 appear from under the lifted visor of his salade — a fine and 
 curious specimen. The brasses of Sir John Hawley and his 
 two wives, in Dartmouth Church (1403); ; Sir Peter Courte- 
 nay, in Exeter Cathedral (1409) — 
 
 ' Devonie natus, Comes, Petrusque vocatus 
 Begis cognatus, camerarius intitulatus, 
 Calesie grattra, oapitaneus ense prbbatus ; ' 
 
 Dame Elizabeth dcBigbury, in Bigbury Church, whose brass 
 is powdered with scrolls, bearing iihe words ' JHU mercy,' 
 ' Lady helpe ;' Sir John Crocker, cupbearer to Edward IV., 
 at Yealmpton ; John and Jane Greenaway (1529), on the 
 floor of their fine chapel at Tiverton — ihe merchant with his 
 furred robe, his purse, andinkhom, the lady with her chate- 
 laine and pomander ball ; and Thomas WiUiams (1566), in 
 Harford Church, who died Speaker of the House of Com- 
 mons, and who, as we are startled at learning from the 
 inscription at his head, 
 
 ' Now in heaven with njighty Jove doth raigne,' 
 
 suificiently prove that there is no want of variety among the 
 Devonshire specimens. Armour and civilian costume, the 
 changeful fashions of ladies' robes and the still more sur- 
 prising vagaries of their head-dresses — ^heart-shaped, homed, 
 butterfly-shaped, diamond-shaped — may be duly studied in 
 these enduring pages ; which prove to us, in conjunction 
 with the statelier recumbent effigies, that the county was, 
 from a very early period, covered by a numerous body of 
 small proprietors, of gentle descent, and entitled to bear 
 arms, such as still forms one of its characteristic features. 
 
334 DEVONSHIRE. 
 
 The constant changes and fluctuations of these families and 
 their lands — 
 
 'Nunc mei, nunc hujus, post mortem nescio cujus,' 
 
 are not less distinctly indicated. 
 
 If, however, the houses of the lay proprietors, of all ranks 
 and classes, were subject to incessant disturbance, there was 
 one great landowner, whose estates never changed hands. 
 The Church, in Devonshire as elsewhere, retained her pro- 
 perty at the time of the Conquest ; and the Italian proverb, 
 'Dove abitano i frat^ e grassa la terra,' was as applicable 
 here as in other parts of England, or in its own bright 
 South. But the ' grassezza ' was the result of the monastic 
 settlements, and not the original inducement to their for- 
 mation. The two Benedictine Abbeys founded in Saxon 
 Devonshire — Buckfast and Tavistock — ^were each of them 
 established on sites which, when the black monks first took 
 possession of them, could have been little better than tangled 
 brake and coppice. The position of Buckfast, especially, in 
 the upper valley of the Dart, where the river, after * fleeting 
 through -the moors with a long solitarie course,' descends 
 between precipitous hills, covered with birch and oak woods, 
 must have been as wild and as lonely as St. Benedict him- 
 self could have desired. But the long green meadows which 
 now stretch upward by the river-side were cleared by the 
 first colonists ; and the Cistercians — which order was estab- 
 lished at Buckfast on the reconstitution of the Abbey after 
 the Conquest — ^proved themselves as skilful farmers here as 
 they did at Waverley or at Beaulieu. Part of their great 
 bam or ' spicaiium,' into which stores were gathered from 
 many a grange and outlying manor, still remains ; and a 
 greensward path winding southward over the moors is still 
 known as the 'Abbots' Way,' and is said to be the track 
 along which the wool from their hill farms was conveyed 
 
DEVONSmBE. 335 
 
 toward Plymouth and Tavistock. The house became one of 
 the wealthiest in the west country ; and, at least in its earlier 
 period, must have been a school of agriculture for the entire 
 district. It could boast, too, of one learned Abbot, William 
 Slade, who, after lecturing on Aristotle in the schools at 
 Oxford, came to meditate on the- ' Master ' beside the rocky 
 stream of the Dart. But the general history of the Abbey 
 was uneventful ; and only one sparkle of interest appears at 
 its close, when Gabriel Donne, a monk of Stratford-le-Bow, 
 was appointed its last Abbot, as a reward for his share in the 
 capture of Tyndale the reformer, at Antwerp. It is only 
 within the present century that the remains of the conventual 
 church and of the adjoining buildings have disappeared. 
 They extended, a great mass of ruin, toward the river ; and the 
 larger part of them was used for building a woollen factory, 
 covering the site of the monastic orchards and herb gardens, 
 which rises close beyond an ivy-clad tower of the Abbot's 
 lodging — Old England and Young England side by side. 
 Turner's noble drawing records, as no other pencil could 
 do, the grand features of the general scene, backed by the 
 grey cones of Dartmoor ; but the imagination alone can 
 reconstruct it in the perfection of its ancient beauty, when 
 the Abbey towers rose uninjured from the midst of their 
 green meadows and corn-fields — spots of sunshine be- 
 tween the darker coppice that stUl clusters over the hill- 
 sides. 
 
 Buckfast was possibly the first religious house of import- 
 ance established in Devonshire. But it was speedily eclipsed 
 by the Benedictine Abbey of Tavistock, founded about the 
 year 960 by Ordgar, Earl or ' Ealdorman ' of Devonshire, 
 whose wealth, says Master Geoffry Gaimar, was so great, 
 that ' from Exeter to Frome ' there was not a town or a city 
 which did not call him master. He was father of the fair 
 Elfrida, famous for the romantic story of her marriage with 
 
336 DEVONSHIEB. 
 
 King Edgar, and of Ordulph, who completed the works 
 begun by his father at Tavistock, and whose gigantic bones 
 (or at any rate bones said to be his) are still shown in the 
 church there Ordulph, however, was entitled to the relics 
 of a giant, if the traditions of his great size and strength are 
 to be credited. He was buried at Tavistock, in the church of 
 his own monastery, which the Northmen, coming up the Tavy, 
 destroyed during the lifetime of the first Abbot ; but which, 
 under the auspices of the second, Lyfing, Bishop of Crediton 
 and the friend of Canute, was restored, and increased so much 
 in wealth and in the splendour of its buildings, that it became 
 and remained the chief religious bouse in the two western 
 counties. The great church, with its shrine of St. Rumon, 
 whose relics had been the gift of the giant Ordulph, was 
 almost equal in size and importance to the Cathedrals of 
 Wells or of Exeter : and the beauty of its site has been 
 especially praised by William of Malmesbury, who enlarges 
 on the benefits which the brethren derived from the adjoining 
 woodlands, from the abundance of fish, and from the running 
 streams which were conducted through the offices of the 
 monastery. The delicious trout of the Dartmoor rivers no 
 doubt found favour in the eyes of the Benedictines, whose 
 cellars, besides ' vins de Rochelle ' and Devonshire cider, 
 were supplied with mead and metheglin wherewith to relish 
 the quarters of red deer "venison, which, it is to be feared, 
 often found their way inside the walls at undue seasons. The 
 early Abbots — ^like Aldred, who had offered a golden chalice 
 at the Holy Sepulchre, and brought home his palm branch 
 from the Jordan, and who afterwards, as Archbishop of York, 
 crowned both Harold and the Conqueror — ^were men of learning 
 and piety. Many of the later functionaries caused no small 
 scandal and disturbance. Two were deposed by the Bishop 
 of Exeter. Abbot John de Courtenay is severely reproved 
 for having 
 
DEVONSHIEE. 337 
 
 ' . . . . loved the deer to track 
 More than the lines and the letters black,' 
 
 and for the total want of discipline in his convent ; and 
 Abbot CuUyng not only winked at the private suppers of the 
 monks in their cells, but actually permitted them to flaunt 
 about the streets of Tavistock in secular' ' buttoned tunics,' 
 and in boots with pointed 'beaks.' At the dissolution the 
 Abbey lands passed, almost entire, to the first Lord EiTssell, 
 •whose descendant stiU possesses the greater part of them. 
 Some remains of the conventual buildings, but of late cha- 
 racter, exist; but the stately church was taken down in 1670, 
 and little more than its foundations can now be traced. ISTot- 
 withstanding its troublesome abbots, the scholar will look 
 with some respect on the site, and on the few relics of this 
 great monastery. That it ever possessed, as is generally 
 asserted, a school for the preservation of the so-called ' Saxon ' 
 language, is to the last degree improbable ; but the first 
 printing press ever seen in the West was established here 
 early in the 16th cent ry. A copy of Boethius, 'imprented 
 in the exempt monastry of Tavistock, in Denshyre, by me, 
 Dan Thomas Eychard, monk of the sayd monastry,' in the 
 year 1525, may still be inspected in the library of Exeter 
 College, Oxford. 
 
 The Benedictines possessed six establishments in Devon- 
 shire, besides Tavistock ; but none of these were of great 
 importance. The farmer-like Cistercians — 
 
 ' Lancea Longini, grex albiis, ordo nefandus,' 
 
 as their monastic brethren, envious of their wealth, delighted 
 to call them, — ^took more kindly to the green valleys of the 
 West, and were masters of five houses in different parts of 
 the county, all of which were large and wealthy. Buckfast 
 was by far the richest. Buckland, founded at the end of the 
 13th century, was famous for its apple orchards, which, if not 
 the first in Devonshire, soon became the most important ; aijd 
 
 22 
 
338 DEVONSHIRE. 
 
 it is probably to the zeal of the white monks in procuring 
 the choicest grafts from Normandy, and in the careful 
 management of their trees, that the county is indebted for its 
 pre-eminence in the matter of cider. Ford, on the eastern 
 border, was under the especial patronage df the Courtenays, 
 ' in whose train this house,' says its anonymous chronicler, 
 ' was one of the finest feathers.'^ Among other orders, 
 the Augustinian Canons possessed the richest establishment 
 in the county — Plympton — ^which slightly exceeded even 
 Tavistock in the amount of its annual income, although the 
 buildings of the Benedictine Abbey were far more extensive 
 and imposing. The priory 6f Plympton — of which the 
 curious seal displays the Blessed Yirgin with the Divine 
 Infant seated on her lap, and bearing a hawk, hooded and 
 belled, on her wrist — drew its chief revenues from a large 
 tract of unusually rich land at the head of the estuary of the 
 Plym. Much of the town of Plymouth belonged to it ; and 
 the earliest church there — ^the present St. Andrew's — was 
 founded by the Augustinians. Close to the shore of Tor 
 IBay, but surrounded by deep woods which there feather 
 diownward to the very edge of the water, rose the stately 
 PremonstBatemaian Abbey of Tor,, the wealthiest house of its 
 order in England, founded by the Eriweres toward the end 
 of the 12th century. The memdicaiBt ffiriars established them- 
 selves, as usual, in the chief towns-, Exeter and Plymouth. 
 It imay be remarked that there were oniy three female 
 monasteries in Devonshire, and not one in, Cornwall. One or 
 two of the great Norman Abbeys had cells or priories in 
 Devonshire, situated, as was generally the case in the southern 
 counties, either close to the sea or on the banks of navigable 
 rivers. This indeed is observable, more or less, of all the 
 religious houses in the county, the sea-board of which is in 
 effect its richest portion, and that which best repaid the cul- 
 tivation bestowed upon it by the regular orders. Their 
 
DEVONSHIRE. 339 
 
 manors and estates, however, were scattered over the whole 
 of Devonshire, so as to make it difficult to appreciate their 
 due proportion and extent. But no one can turn over the 
 pages of Dr. Oliver's volume without perceiving that Devon- 
 shire supplied her full share toward the support, of the monks. 
 They were, in fact, the great landowners of the county. 
 
 Fuller's ' all-eating time ' has left but scanty morsels of the. 
 monastic buildings ' in the dish, for manners' sake ;' but the 
 churches of Devonshire present a very ample and varied carte 
 for the consideration of the archaeological gastronome. From 
 a careful examination of the notes and papers of the Exeter 
 Architectural Society, it is evident that the entire county, at 
 no long period, after the Conquest, had become covered with 
 small churches, the result, no doubt, of the increased vigour 
 of the Norman, bishops, fostered, in its turn, by. the zeal of 
 Lanfranc and of Anselm. The chief existing . relics of these 
 churches are the fonts which abound throughout the diocese. 
 Here and there, too, an enriched doorway or capital survives 
 to tell of what has once been ; and the dark masses of Bishop 
 Warelwast's towers still flank the transepts of his cathedral, 
 carrying us back to the days of the ' Beauclerc ' and of King 
 Stephen ; but no entire church, and no very extensive por- 
 tions of Norman buildings, remain in the county. With the 
 succeeding period it has fared somewhat better* The existing 
 chancels of many parish churches were built at this time, and 
 display much beautiful Harly English work in their windows, 
 sedilia, and piscinae.- The Lady Chapel of the Cathedral, 
 commenced by Bishop Bruere, early in the reign of Henry 
 III., affords an example of unusual excellence.. But it is to 
 the time of the later Piantagenets, when English chivalry 
 displayed its utmost splendour, and when the religious .art of 
 England attained its most perfect development, that Devon- 
 shire can point with the greatest pride. Under the second 
 and third Edwards the choir and nave of Exeter Cathedral, 
 
340 DEVONSHIBE. 
 
 one of the most perfect specimens of Decorated remaining in 
 England, were completed ; the former by Bishop W,alter de 
 Stapleton, whose name is dear to every son of Exeter College, 
 which he founded, and whose monument remains in the 
 northern choir aisle ; the latter by Bishop G-randison, the 
 stout defender of the privileges of his see, and the most 
 - princely ' prelate who ever ruled over it. Beginning at the 
 Lady Chapel, therefore, the student may trace the gradual 
 development of style from Early English to Geometrical, 
 and from Geometrical to Curvilinear, until he finds himself 
 before the western front, the niches of which are peopled 
 with patriarchs, kings, and saints — an elaborate history in 
 stone. It was not fully completed in 1359, when we may 
 imagine the Black Prince, with the captive king of France, 
 pausing for a moment before it, and then, with all the stately 
 train of princes and prelates, disappearing beneath its portals 
 to sweep upward through the richly decorated nave toward 
 the high altar.* The impressions of these royal visitors must 
 have differed somewhat from those of the Grand Duke Cosmo 
 of Tuscany, who inspected the Cathedral on his way to 
 London in 1669, and who there beheld and wondered at the 
 heretical bishop, ' Doctor Antony Sparrow,' in a marble 
 
 * EJayghton's statement, that the Black Prince landed at Plymouth 
 on his return from Prance with his royal captive (although in direct 
 opposition to ihe detailed account given by Proissart of his arrival at 
 Sandwich), is confirmed by extracts from the city records of Exeter, 
 printed by ' Richard Izaak, chamberlain thereof,' in 1681. Under the 
 year 1357, 'JohnSpicer, Mayor,' he says — 'Prince Edward brought 
 over to England John the Prench King, and sundry of his noblemen, 
 all as prisoners, who landed at Plymouth, and from thence came to 
 this city, where they were honourably received, and so conveyed to 
 London.' In 1371 the Prince was again in Exeter. 'Edward the 
 Black Prince returns sick from Prance, with the Princess his lady, and 
 Richard their son (who was afterwards King of England by the name 
 of Richard II.), and arrived at Plymouth : in his way toward London 
 came to this city, where they were honourably entertained.' — Izaak's 
 JRemarhabh Antiquities of the (My of Exeter, pp. 54, 59. 
 
DEVONSHIEE. 341 
 
 tabernade, on a seat covered with red doth, and wearing on 
 his head ' a small cap, similar to that of the Roman Pontiffs, 
 without any other ornament ; ' whilst (sight of horror !) 
 * under the tabernade, on a level with the floor of the church, 
 in an enclosure of wood, stood the wife of the bishop and his 
 children, no less than nine in number.' The utmost stretch 
 of Italian charity could not forgive so many little bishops, still 
 less the audacious display of them in the wooden enclosure. 
 
 The works at the Cathedral, no doubt, gave rise, as is 
 usually the case, to others in different parts of the county. 
 There is much Decorated scattered through it ; but no 
 examples occur that can in any way vie with the great 
 beauty of the Cathedral details. The fine collegiate church 
 of Ottery, lately restored, and now bright in all the glories 
 of polychrome, is chiefly of this time, and well deserves 
 careful study. Few, churches, however, remain which are 
 Decorated throughout ; and even of the succeeding Perpen- 
 dicular there are few which do not exhibit very decided 
 traces of Mr. Buskin's ' pestilent Kenaissance.' But it was 
 during this period that by far the greater number of existing 
 Devonshire churches were built ; and the size and importance 
 of many sufficiently prove that the great western landowners 
 ' loved the church as well, and gave as largely to 't,' as the 
 barons and franklins in other parts of England. Crediton, 
 Cujlompton, Tiverton, and Broadclyst are among the best 
 and most perfect examples in the county of this final period 
 of Grothic architecture. 
 
 A certain deficiency in rich, and elaborate ornament, which, 
 as compared with those of other counties, may be observed 
 more or less- throughout the churches of Devonshire, is pro- 
 bably owing to the nature of the materials with which the 
 local builders were compelled to work. On the borders of 
 Dartmoor, and indeed wherever it was possible, granite has 
 been used ; grand and effective in its heavy masses and 
 
342 DEVONSHIRE. 
 
 simple mouldings, but incapable of being chiselled into the 
 buds and bells, the palm branches and the fern leaves 
 wreathed about the arches and capitals of churches in the 
 sandstone and oolite districts. The felspathic trap, which is 
 the principal building stone in the neighbourhood of Exeter, 
 and in great part of North -Devon, is scarcely softer than the 
 granite ; and although Caen stone was largely imported, 
 and is the chief material used for the Cathedral, it found in 
 Devonshire a serious rival in a reddish porphyritic 'elvan,' 
 known as the Roborough stone (to the old fortress of which 
 hundred it probably gave name, Eo-burh [A.S.], the red 
 castle), which is stiU -quarried in the neighbourhood of 
 Plymouth. None of these materials lent themselves to 
 elaborate carving ; and the very rich stone pulpits which 
 remain in some few churches are worked in Caen stone. 
 But, as if by way of compensation for this deficiency, the 
 wood-work which is still to be admired in the churches of 
 Devonshire, in spite of the terrible havoc to which it has 
 been exposed, even within the last fifty years, probably 
 exceeds in beauty and intricacy of detail tiiat of any other 
 English province. How the native artists luxuriated in 
 twining vine branches, and in all the graceful maze of forest 
 boughs and flowers, we may see in the beautiful screens of 
 Cullompton, of Dartmouth, of Harberton, of Atherington, 
 and of numberless other churches scattered over the county. 
 All were elaborately coloured ; and, especially in those 
 churches which belonged to the large monasteries, the lower 
 panels were fiUed with painted figures of saints, many of 
 which remain, of no ordinary execution, and effective in spite 
 of grotesque accompaniments. 
 
 In one other point the churches of Devonshire surpass those 
 of most other counties — ^beauty of situation. Sometimes close 
 to the old manor-house, and sheltered by the same ancestral 
 woods ; sometimes on high ground, and looking across a wide 
 
DEVONSHIEE. 343 
 
 landscape of coppice, and orchard, and meadow, to the distant 
 ridges of Dartmoor ; and sometimes rising in the midst of 
 the long green coomb, over which the lichen-tinted tower 
 flings the shadow of its own antiquity — it is scarcely possible 
 to determine to which position the ' insita species venustatis,' 
 such as Bede admired on the hUl of St. Alban's martyrdom, 
 belongs most completely. There is something, too, which 
 finely harmonises with the surrounding scene in the influences, 
 visible on the buildings themselves, of the soft mists and 
 warm breezes of the west ; and the most thorough-paced 
 ecclesiologist would hardly look with an evil eye on the 
 golden mosses and the hart's-tongue that light up the gray 
 walls with touches of the loveliest colour. Whether he 
 would feel equal sympathy with many details in the interior 
 fittings of remote Devonshire churches, is perhaps more 
 doubtful. Devonshire has by no means been behindhand in 
 zeal for church building and church restoration ; and such 
 results as have been obtained at CuUompton, at Tiverton, 
 at Ottery, at Yeahnpton, and in many other places, may 
 be pointed out with no small pride and admiration. True 
 restoration, however, demands not only the delicate hand of 
 an artist, but still more, a delicate feeling for local character 
 and sentiment. All situations will not bear the same treat- 
 ment ; and there is many a viQage church, nestled under the 
 tors of Dartmoor, which, with its worn benches, its dimmed 
 window quarrels, its admonitory texts, and its rough granite 
 pavement, is far more impressive in its ancient simplicity 
 than the most elaborate display of carved work and of colour 
 could possibly render it. Such churches retain the old-world 
 character of the district, and we trust will long continue to 
 do so. 
 
 The Reformation probably brought but little change to the 
 fabrics of the Devonshire churches. The laity were indisposed 
 to listen to the new teaching ; and the mass of the western 
 
344 DEVONSHIRE. 
 
 clergy, far from faroiiring it, seem to have been distingnished 
 by more than usual ignorance and incapacity. If we are to 
 belieye Alexander Barclay, whose ' Shippe of Fools ' was 
 completed at St. Mary Ottery in the year 1508, and who 
 declares that the eight minor canons of that coUegiate church 
 were ' right worthy ' of places on board, the richest benefices 
 in the county were by no means bestowed on the most 
 deserving : — 
 
 ' For if one can flatter, and bear a hawk on his fiat, 
 He shall be made parson of Honiton or of Clyst." 
 
 The first Lord Russell, who at a somewhat later period 
 became patron of the latter benefice, seems to have regarded 
 such hawk-bearers with especial favour. It was he who 
 bestowed the living of St. Thomas's at Exeter on Welsh, the 
 chief clerical leader of the Western rebels in 1549, a truly 
 muscular Christian, whose portrait is thus drawn by Hoker, 
 in his account of the rising : — 
 
 ' This man had many good things in. him.. He was of no great 
 stature, 'but well set and mightily compact. He was a very good 
 wrestler ; shot well, both in the long-bow and also in the cross-bow ; 
 he handled his hand-gun and piece very well ; he was a very good 
 woodman and a hardy, and such a one aa. would not give his head for 
 the polling, nor his; beard for the washing. He waa a companion in 
 any exercises of activity, and of a courteous and gentle behaviour.'''^ 
 
 In spite of his gentleness, however, this worthy person, 
 after the relief of Exeter, was hung in chains on the top of 
 his church tower 'in his popish apparel, with a holy-water 
 
 * This passage, as given- in Holinshed, is. quoted by Sir Walter Scott 
 in a note to Marmion, apropos of 
 
 ' The priest of Shoreswood : he could rein 
 The wildest war-horse in your train ; 
 But then, no spearsman in the hall 
 Will sooner awear, or stab, or brawl.' — Camio I. 
 A note appended by Lockhart to the later editions of Martmon sug- 
 gests that the clerk of Copmanhurst in Ivanhoe was indebted for some 
 of hia characteristic3^to.the description of Welsh. 
 
DEVONSHIEE. 346 
 
 bucket and sprinkle, a sacring bell, a pair of beads, and such 
 other like popish trash, hanged about him ; and there he 
 
 remained a long time He very patiently took his 
 
 death.' Before this result was attained, Exeter had been 
 besieged for six weeks by the ' commons ' from all parts of 
 the county, who ' brought with them their wives, horses, and 
 panniers, promising them upon such a day that they should 
 enter the city, and then to measure velvets and silks by the 
 bow, and to lade their horses home with plate, money, and 
 other great riches.' The remoteness of the county, the slight 
 intercourse of its inhabitants with the rest of England, and 
 the absence, according to Hoker, of ' learned ' teachers, were 
 all unfavourable to the proposed changes ; and with small 
 exception the entire county was opposed to what were 
 called the 'King's Proceedings.' About 4000 of the rebels 
 are said to have fallen in the various skirmishes at Exeter, at 
 Feniton, and on Olyst Heath, in which latter fight, such was 
 • tha valour and stoutness of the Devonshire men, ' that the 
 Lord Grey reported himself, that he never, in all the wars 
 that he had been in, did know the like.' 
 
 With the accession of Elizabeth commences the golden age 
 of Devonshire. From a very early period Dartmouth had 
 been the principal harbour on its southern coast ; but, early 
 in the sixteenth century, it suffered much from deposits 
 brought down by the river from stream-works on the moors ; 
 and although Dart accompanied Tamar and Plym to the 
 feast of the rivers in Spenser's days, he appeared in somewhat 
 damaged condition^ — 
 
 'And Dart, nigh choaked with, sands of tinnie mines.' 
 
 Dartmouth never recovered its importance ; and the expe- 
 ditions to America and the South Seas, which became so 
 frequent in the reign of Elizabeth, gave the pre-eminence at 
 once and finally to Plymouth, which had been steadily rising 
 
346 DEVONSHIEE. 
 
 as Dartmontli declined, and which, as the best and most 
 western harbour, was preferred as their point of departure by 
 the many yoyagers to the ' Newfound world.' A passion for 
 this American - adventure ' took possession of the entire 
 county ; and it would be difficult to produce a roll of more 
 distinguished names than those of the Devonshire seamen, 
 whose exploits belong to the history of their country, and 
 whose weather-beaten countenances raise such a host of 
 romantic associations as they look out upon us from the stiff 
 panels of Mark Garrard or of Zucchero. In October, 1562, 
 Captain John Hawkins set out for the West Indies with three 
 vessels — the ' Solomon,' the ' Swallow,' and the 'Jonas ' — the 
 first of the long series of expeditions which sailed from Ply- 
 mouth, of which place Hawkins was a native. His exploits 
 against the Moors, his share in establishing the slave-trade (a 
 matter in which the cold blue eye of his portrait is not with- 
 out its testimony), and his bravery at the time of the Armada, 
 need only be alluded to here. The daring spirit of the father 
 was inherited by the son. Sir Richard Hawkins, who in 1593 set 
 out on a voyage round the world, but was taken by a Spanish 
 squadron on the coast of Chili, and for nine years kept a 
 prisoner in Spain. He it was, says the Devonshire tradition, 
 who was the hero of the well-known hallad — 
 
 ' Will you hear a Spanish lady, 
 How she wooed an Englishman ? ' 
 
 and should any one be sceptical enough to doubt the fact 
 
 (seeing that the honour is claimed by many other counties), 
 
 he may still inspect, in the possession of one of Sir Richard's 
 
 descendants, the actual jewels which were sent by the fair 
 
 Spanish dame to the ' sweet woman,' whom, as the ' gallant 
 
 captain' confessed, he had already 'to his wife' in England : — 
 
 ' Goimnend me to thy lovely lady-; 
 Bear to her this chain of gold, 
 And these bracelets for a token, 
 Grieying that I was so bold.' 
 
DEVONSHIEE. 347 
 
 Possibly Sir Richard had already experienced something of 
 the Spanish temper at home. A certain WiUiam Downman, 
 mayor of Plymouth after Sir Richard's return, had formerly 
 been his servant, ' as,' says a MS. Chronicle of the town, 
 'was his wife to the Lady Hawkins, who, disdaining to sit 
 below one that had been her maid, endeavoured to keep the 
 upperhand, which the other attempting, the lady struck her 
 a box on the ear. It made great disturbance; at length 
 it was composed, and Sir Richard gave the town a house in 
 the Market-street for satisfaction.' 
 
 The local traditions of Sir Francis Drake, the companion 
 of the elder Hawkins during his last voyage, when both 
 perished, have been preserved by Mrs. Bray in her ' Banks 
 of the Tamar and Tavy.' In the recollections of Plymouth 
 and its neighbourhood he survives rather as a public bene- 
 factor than as a great seaman and adventurer. It was by his 
 advice and assistance that the * leat ' of water, from which the 
 town is stiU principally supplied, was brought into it from 
 the sources of the Meavy river, distant nearly fifteen miles ; 
 and just as in Bedouin tradition Alexander is said to have 
 brought the waters of the fountains of Solomon, near Tyre, 
 ' from BaghdM, by the help of a Jsln,' the local folk-lore 
 asserts that on this occasion Sir Francis Drake was assisted 
 by more than natural powers. After a due amount of 
 magical ceremony, he mounted his horse, and rode from the 
 spring-head, over moor and through valley, toward Plymouth. 
 As his horse's tail swept along the ground it opened a course 
 for the water, which followed in the rider's track till it 
 reached the fountain at the head of the town. This foun- 
 tain, a quaint old structure, was removed about thirty years 
 since. 
 
 Drake a«d Hawkims take the earliest place in the catalogue 
 of Elizabethan heroes connected with Devonshire. A second 
 pair, Gilbert and Raleigh, united as well by family ties as 
 
348 DEVONSHIEE. 
 
 by common reputation, follow closely in their wake. The 
 mother of both was a Champernowne of Modbury, one of the 
 most distinguished famiUes in the West ; and if it be true 
 that genius is generally inherited from the maternal side, the 
 mother of two such sons is entitled to special respect and 
 consideration. The establishment of the fishing trade on the 
 coast of Newfoundland is due to Sir Humphrey Grilbert ; and 
 it is worth remarking that the ancient Christmas play, now 
 rarely to be seen in Devonshire, may still be admired at St. 
 John's, whither it was conveyed hj the inhabitants of certain 
 Devonshire parishes, who, until very recently, looked to the 
 Newfoundland trade as their regular means of support. The 
 character of no adventurer of that age was loftier than, that 
 of Gilbert ; and Queen Elizabeth herself, according to the old 
 rhyme, graciously observed that she 
 
 ' . . . . held all men not worth a filbert 
 Compared unto Sir Humphrey Gilbert." 
 
 His ' lively effigies,' in Prince's time, ' was yet remaining in 
 his grand-nephew's house at Compton ; which,' he continues, 
 ' I have there seen in this figure. The one hand holdeth a 
 general's truncheon, and the other is laid on the globe of the 
 world : Virginia is written over ; on his breast hangs the 
 golden anchor, with the pearl at peak,' — a present from the 
 queen — ' and underneath are these verses — 
 
 ' Here you may see the portrait of hisiface, 
 Who for his country's honour oft did trace 
 Along the deep ; and made a noble way 
 Unto the growing fame, Virginia. 
 The picture of his mind, if ye do crave it,.. 
 Look upon Virtue's picture, and ye have it.'' 
 
 What has become of this portrait ? — ^than which few would 
 be more interesting either at Grreenwich or in the National 
 Portrait Gallery. Compton Castle, not far from Torquay, 
 which was acquired in marriage with an heiress of the 
 Comptons, and to which the descendants of Sir Humphrey 
 
DEVONSHIEE. 349 
 
 removed from the ancient house of Greenaway on the Dart, 
 
 has long been in ruins. Pictures and ' plenishing ' have of 
 
 course disappeared ; but the building itself, dating perhaps 
 
 from the very beginning of the fifteenth century, is one of 
 
 the finest remains of a fortified house in England. 
 
 It is asserted by gossiping old Aubrey, that Sir Walter 
 
 Raleigh, the half-brother of Gilbert, retained a strong 
 
 Devonshire accent to the end of his life, notwithstanding his 
 
 early removal from the county and his subsequent ' climbing ' 
 
 into Court favour. Something of the brightest portion of his 
 
 life — 
 
 ' The fragrance of the old paternal fields ' — 
 
 hung about him throughout all his] wanderings and vicissi- 
 tudes. That he looked back with some longing toward his 
 early haunts is certain from his eager desire to become the 
 purchaser of Hayes, his birthplace, a farm in the parish of 
 East Budleigh, which his father (himself a sea captain) held 
 on lease. The house is still standing, and the room in which 
 " Sir Walter is said to have . been bom is still pointed out. 
 More important, however, and perhaps more authentic relics 
 are the remains of Fardel, near Ivy Bridge, the hereditary 
 seat of the Raleighs — an honourable family, 'which,' says 
 Sir William Pole, ' needed no other father than such as begot 
 them, and no other mother than such as bare them,' although 
 Sir Walter himself was ' traduced in his time as an upstart, 
 a Jack, and a new man.' Of the Elizabethan heroes of 
 Devonshire, the only one who could not directly repel these 
 ' unpleasant'st words ' was Sir Francis Drake. All the 
 others were gentlemen ' of coat armour ; ' and the ' fusils in 
 bend argent ' of the Raleighs no doubt figured in the great 
 haU and in the chapel windows of Fardel. 
 
 Throughout this period the narrow streets and quays 
 of Plymouth were kept alive by the constant arrival and 
 departure of the seamen's barks and pinnaces ; and many an 
 
350 DEVON SHIEE. 
 
 * heir of Linne ' found his way there in the hope of getting a 
 passage to the golden lands of Virginia or Florida, whose mar- 
 vels were then Ming all imaginations. So, at least, suggests 
 the old ballad, true of many besides the ' lusty Stukely ': — 
 
 ' Have over the waters to Florida, 
 
 Farewell good London now ; 
 Through long delays on land and seas 
 
 I'm brought, I cannot tell how, 
 In Plymouth town, in a threadbare gown. 
 
 And money never a deal. 
 Hay ! trixi trim ! go trixi trim ! 
 
 And will not a wallet do well 1 ' \ 
 
 The romance and interest of the time, however, culminate in 
 the arrival of the Armada. No reader will have forgotten the 
 life-like picture which has been drawn by Mr. Kingsley in 
 the concluding chapters of 'Westward Ho I '; and one of the 
 first recollections occurring to the visitor who stands for the 
 first time on the heights above Plymouth, will be of that 
 eventful day when the news was brought to the English 
 Admiral, then, says the local tradition, playing at bowls on 
 the Hoe, how the mighty crescent fleet, the horns of which 
 were seven miles asunder, was slowly labouring up the 
 Channel, 'the winds' in Camden's words, 'being as it were 
 tired with carrying them, and the ocean groaning under their 
 weight ' : — 
 
 ' Forthwith a guard at every gun was placed along the wall ; 
 The beacon blazed upon the roof of Bdgcumbe's lofty hall ; 
 Many a light fishing bark put out to pry along the coast, 
 And with loose rein and bloody spur rode inland many a post. 
 With his white hair uubonneted, the stout old sheriff comes ; 
 Behind him march the halberdiers ; before him sound the drums ; 
 His yeomen round the market-cross make clear an ample space. 
 For there behoves him to set up the standard of her Grace. 
 And haughtily the trumpets peal, and gaUy dance the bells. 
 And slow upon the labouring wind the royal blazon swells.' 
 
 On that anniversary, July 19, the mayor and corporation 
 •always ' wore their scarlet,' and treated their visitors to cake 
 
DEVONSHIEE. 351 
 
 and wine. In the parish registers and account books the 
 year is marked as that of the great deliverance ; and in one, 
 that of Milton Abbot, after intimations of the condition of 
 watch and ward which had prevailed throughout the county, 
 such as charges for scouring the parish harness (armour), 
 and repairing the parish butts for the archers, are inserted 
 the words ' The Byble Respyted,' an evident allusion to the 
 great Protestant victory. 
 
 The importance of Plymouth and its harbour continued 
 steadily to increase during the succeeding reigns. In the 
 summer of 1620, the famous ' Mayflower ' — the ship in which 
 the Pilgrim Fathers sailed to New England — ^was compelled by 
 contrary winds to put in first at Dartmouth, and afterwards at 
 Plymouth, having brought the little band of emigrants from 
 Delft to Southampton. The pilgrims, according to a journal 
 of their proceedings published in 1622, ' were kindly enter- 
 tained and courteously used by divers friends dwelling at 
 Plymouth ; ' and it seems to have been in recollection of the 
 kindness shown to them at this portj from which they took 
 their final departure, that they gave its name to their new 
 settlement in America. It is probable that the Separatist 
 pilgrims found many congenial spirits at ^Plymouth. The 
 town was essentially Puritan, as, indeed, was the greater 
 part of Devonshire at the commencement of the struggle 
 between King and Parliament. 
 
 This, however, by no means ensured the peace of the county. 
 Mr. Davidson's very useful ' Bibliotheca Devoniensis ' contains 
 the titles of a vast mass of pamphlets relating to Devonshire 
 at this time, most of which may still be consulted in the 
 British Museum. They are filled with curious local details, 
 well meriting disinterment at the hands of some zealous 
 antiquary, and sufiiciently attest the trials and troubles to 
 which 'our Dsevon' was exposed during that disastrous period. 
 The first marked event in the county was the death of Sidney 
 
352 DEVONSHIEE. 
 
 Godolphin, one of the 'four wheels of Charles's wain,' at 
 Chagford — a plftce, says Clarendon, which, 'but for the mis- 
 fortune of his death, could never have had a mention in the 
 world.' According to a local tradition, it was in the open 
 granite porch of the 'Three Crowns,' one of the most pictu- 
 resque of hostels, that this 'young gentleman of incomparable 
 parts' fell by a musket-shot during one of those skirmishes 
 which were then frequent throughout the open country. Of 
 the towns, Plymouth was seized, and defended by its inha- 
 bitants in the absence of the King's general; and, in spite 
 of vigorous attacks on the part of the royalists, held out to the 
 close of the war. Exeter, at first Parliamentarian, and made 
 the head-quarters of the Parliamentary general, the Earl of 
 Stamford, was taken by Prince Maurice, for the King, in 
 the autumn of 1643. The Queen took refage within its walls, 
 and here gave birth to her daughter, Henrietta Maria. It was 
 at this time also that FuUer the historian sheltered himself 
 from the storm at Exeter, where he printed his 'Good 
 Thoughts in Bad Times,' dedicating his book to the unhappy 
 Queen ; and here we may suppose him to have first observed 
 the use of gambadoes, 'much worn in the West, whereby, 
 whilest one rides on horseback, his legs are in a coach clean 
 and warme, in those dirty co%mtries^ — a somewhat disparaging 
 expression, perhaps suggested by recollections of weary rides 
 through narrow Devonshire lanes, deep in mud, and overhung 
 by dripping branches. Through such lanes King Charles 
 had himself ridden, when he passed westward into Cornwall 
 in 1644, in pursuit of Essex and his forces — a royal progress 
 which must have contrasted sadly enough with that made in 
 the first year of his reign, when he visited Plymouth attended 
 by Duke ' Steenie' and all his court, and witnessed the depart- 
 ure from the harbour of Lord Wimbledon's ill-fated expedi- 
 tion to Cadiz. It was on this occasion that the King and his 
 retinue were entertained by Sir Hichard Reynell, at his house 
 
DEVONSHIRE. 353 
 
 of Ford, near Newton Abbot. Charles passed two days 
 there ; and among the delicacies of the bills of fare, which have 
 been preserved, besides an infinite number of 'beeves,' 'mut- 
 tons,' and 'veals,' appear 'one barnacle, one hernshaw, two 
 nynnets, six sea-pyes, three pea-hens, and two gulls.' Little 
 did King Charles imagine, as he presided at the board graced 
 by these remarkable entries, that the Prince who was finally 
 to chase the Stuarts from their throne would pass his first 
 night in England beneath the roof-tree of Ford. William of 
 Orange halted there after landing at Brixham. The bed, of 
 carved mahogany, in which he slept, was preserved at Ford 
 until very recently, and is perhaps still in existence. 
 
 How completely, after the fall of the chief "Western 
 royalists, — 
 
 ' The four wheeb of Charles's wain, 
 GrenviUe, Trevanion,- Godolphin, Slanning, slain,' 
 
 — ^the license of their troopers caused the Cavaliers to be 
 detested throughout the county, is evident from various 
 indications ; among the rest, from a contemporary pamphlet, 
 which sets forth how a boy 'about Crediton in the West' was 
 carried into the air by the devil, for the express purpose of 
 inspecting the preparations making in the infernal regions for 
 the fitting reception of Groring and G-renville. The clubmen 
 of the county declared for the Parliament in September, 
 1645 ; and Fairfax, who entered Devonshire with his army in 
 the following month, encountered no serious check in his 
 course of reducing the few towns and garrisons that still held 
 out for the King. 
 
 The story of Fairfax's proceedings in Devonshire is told at 
 full length by his chaplain. Master Joshua Sprigge, in his 
 'Anglia Rediviva' — a short black-covered volume, which the 
 descendants of the Western Cavaliers, when they fell upon it 
 in the hall-window of some Puritan neighbour, must have 
 regarded with much the same horror as Independent Tomkins 
 
 23 
 
354 rETONSHTBE, 
 
 disjdayed at the sight of the folio Shakespeare in the oriel at 
 Woodstock. The house of Great t\dford, with its picturesque 
 park and noble beech avenues^ was among the first to surren- 
 der, and was placed under the command of Colonel Okey, the 
 regicide. Before advancing to Ashburton, near which town 
 the chief remaining strength' of the royaKats was collected, 
 Fairfax reviewed his troops within the area of the ancient 
 camp of Cadbury, on a lofty hiU commanding the windings of 
 the Exe — a gathering which, with aU its accompaniments, 
 may safely be commended to any historical painter in quest 
 of a picturesque subject. Ashburton — where the house in 
 which Fairfax lodged is still pointed oat — speedily fell ; and 
 during the skirmishes which took place in its immediate 
 neighbourhood Cromwell appears on the scene, visiting 
 Devonshire for the first and only time. He fell suddenly upon 
 Wentworth's brigade at Bovey Traoey, disturbing the officers 
 at cards, as Puritan scandal-mongers delighted to repeat, 
 and compelling them to beat a hasty retreat to Ilsingtom, the 
 manor and birthplace of Ford the dramatist, where they gar- 
 risoned themselves in the church. In June, 1646, Charles 
 Fort, at Salcombe, near Kingsbridge, the last which held out 
 for the King in Devonshire, was surrendered on honourable 
 terms by its governor, Sir Edmund Fortescue, to Colonel 
 Welden, the Parliamentarian governor of Plymouth, who had 
 blockaded it for four months. Its battered ruins may still be 
 visited ; and the keys, long preserved at Fallapit, the ancestral 
 seat of the Fortescues, are still in the possession of the head of 
 that family. 
 
 So, for the present, the cause of the Stuarts was extin- 
 guished in the West. TLhe death of Admiral Blake, at the 
 entrance of Plymouth harbour, in August, 1657, on his return 
 from the expedition to Santa Cruz, and that of Major-General 
 Lambert in the severe winter of 1683, on the island of St. 
 Nicholas, under Mount Edgcumbe, after an imprisonment of 
 
DEVONSHIEE. 355 
 
 twenty-one years, were of course regarded with very different 
 feelings by the representatives of the two great parties. In the 
 curious MS. journal of James Yonge, a member of an ancient 
 Devonshire family who was resident at Plymouth during the 
 latter part of the seventeenth century, Lambert figures as 
 the 'arch-rebell,' and his death in his island-prison is duly 
 recorded. The barren little rock hardly admitted of such 
 successful growing of tulips and carnations, 'the best that 
 could be had for love or money,' as the General had delighted 
 in at Wimbledon : but Lambert was a painter of flowers, as 
 well as a cultivator of them, and he may have soothed many 
 a weary hour by the transfer of their brilliant hues to canvas, 
 as well as by the solution of mathematical and arithmetical 
 problems, which was another of his favourite amusements. A 
 curious account of his interview with Myles HaJhead, a Quaker, 
 will be found in the valuable series of Historical Notes col- 
 lected from Notes and Queries. The Quaker seems to have 
 visited the old G-eneral at Plymouth chiefly for the sake of 
 pointing out that his troubles had come upon him in retribu- 
 tion ; 'for that truly, John Lambert, you soon forgot your 
 promises .... and made laws, and consented to laws, and suf- 
 fered and permitted laws to be made against the Lord's people.' 
 The great event of 1688 — the landing of William io Torbay 
 — once more somewhat ruffled the tranquillity of Devonshire. 
 Lord Macaulay's brilliant pages are in effect so^many photo- 
 graphs of the events from the arrival of the Prince at Brixham 
 to his final departure from the county ; but in spite of the 
 long array of Devonshire thanes who are there recorded as 
 hastening to join themselves and their followers to the Protes- 
 tant rainks, it is certain that a considerable time elapsed before 
 the new state of things became generally accepted, — 
 ' Ere general freedom, equal law,- 
 Won to the glories of Naaaau 
 Each bold Weasexian squire and knight.' * 
 
 * Akenside — Letter to Sir F. Drake. 
 
356 DEVONSHmE. 
 
 The feeling, to borrow a phrase of Walpole's, may have been 
 not so much Jacobite as 'only not Greorgeabite ; ' but there 
 was many a squirelet who held, with Sir Hildebrand Osbaldi- 
 stone, that, 'what with French antics and book-learning, and 
 the new turnips, and the rats, and the Hanoverians, ' very 
 little indeed was left of the real Old England. Now and then 
 we meet with indications of something more serious than 
 grumbling. A seizure of arms was made at Plymouth. The 
 Duke of Ormond, ' Queen Anne's darling, ' appeared at the 
 entrance of the harbour with a French armament, intending, on 
 his landing, which never took place, to set up the standard of 
 the Stuarts; and Sir Coplestone Bamfylde was carried off to 
 the Tower in state, on a charge of treasonable correspondence 
 with the Pretender; for which the ten days' journey to Lon- 
 don in his coach and six, with the necessary accompaniments 
 of upsets and stickings in tTie mud, was perhaps sufficient 
 punishment. There was, however, no real disturbance in 
 Devonshire; and throughout the reigns of the Georges the 
 county steadily increased in wealth and prosperity, although 
 not without such changes as were more or less distasteful to 
 the Sir Hildebrands :— 
 
 'The capacious tankard of double-racked cyder,' vsrites Chappell of 
 Exeter, about the time of George III.'s accession, ' or wholesome tho' 
 home-brewed October beer, improved by the addition of a nut-brown 
 toast, — ^with which, and perhaps a broil'd rasher, or a steak of hung 
 beef, the hospitable Franklin of the last century could regale himself, 
 his neighbours, and friends, — are now rejected for a complete set of 
 tea-tackle and a sugar-loaf ; the bounties of Ceres and Pomona under- 
 valued, and the dispiriting infusion of the leaves of an Asiatic shrub 
 preferr'd to the exhilarating beverage derived from the red-streak 
 apple-tree or the barley-mow. The glittering rows of pewter plates 
 and platters, which of yore adorned the dresser and shelves of the neat 
 and oeeonomic housewife, give place to frangible earthen dishes and 
 saucers, less fit for their purposes tian even the wooden trenchers in use 
 before the neglect to cultivate and preserve our timber made more 
 work for the miners, pewterers, and cutters. But glazed earthen 
 plates must now dull the edges of our knives ; and the country squire, 
 to keep a step higher than his neighbouring farmers, to please his 
 
DEVONSHIRE. 357 
 
 modish madajn, and escape being censured as a tasteless churl, must 
 prefer the brittleness and frailty of Dresden procelain to the solidity 
 and permanence of Damnonian pewter.' * 
 
 Many distinguislied Devonshire worthies have already been 
 mentioned; but the list of those less immediately connected 
 with the actual march of events is far longer, and certainly 
 not less important. The 'pious ghosts' of Hooker, of Jewell, 
 and of Reynolds, need scarcely be called up- here. The birth- 
 place of the second, Bowden, an old farmhouse in the parish 
 of Berry Narbor, is still pointed out : of the other two, no 
 record survives in their native county. Nor must we delay 
 longer among the lawyers — although the list is no ordinary 
 one, beginning with Henry the Sixth's Lord Chancellor 
 Fortescue, author of the remarkable treatise 'De Laudibus 
 Legum Anghae,' and ending with Sir William. Follett. Over the 
 poets, the streams and valleys of the West exercised a more 
 direct and lasting influence. Three, who- have obtained per- 
 manent places in the literature of England, were resident in 
 Devonshire at the commencement of the civil war — William 
 Browne, author of Britannia's Pastorals; Ford, the dramatist ; 
 and Robert Herrick. The two former were natives ; and, if 
 the principle on which Fuller has arranged his worthies is to 
 hold good, 'Non ubi nascor sed ubipascor,' Herrick must also 
 be claimed as a Devonian, since his Hesperides are at least 
 as full of the daffodils and violets that star the steep crofts 
 and orchards of Dean Prior, as of any recollections carried 
 westward from Cheapside, or from the Apollo at Temple 
 Bar, Ford, the gloomy and terrible subjects of whose tragedies 
 seem partly to have reflected his own temperament, had re- 
 turned from London to die at his birthplace, Hsington, near 
 Ashburton. The melancholy music of his verses will haunt 
 the wanderer beneath the gnarled and storm-twisted oaks 
 
 * Review of part of Bisdon's Survey of Devon. Chappell was for many 
 years the steward of Sir WiUiam Courtenay, 
 
358 DEVONSHIBE. 
 
 which there stretch upward toward the heaths of Dartmoor ; 
 but with the exception of an occasional word, extinct else- 
 where, but still to be heard in Devonshire, there is Kttle trace 
 in his works of any influence caught from the scenery and 
 associations of his native district, nor does he seem to have 
 been himself remembered there. And Prince's worthies of 
 the name of Ford are authors of 'Treatises about singing 
 Psalms,' and the like — 
 
 ' There goes the parson, most illustrious spark ! 
 And there, scarce less illustrious, goes the clerk.' 
 
 As some compensation for the want of Devonshire allusions in 
 Ford, the Britannia's Pastorals of Browne exhibit through- 
 out a series of careful landscape paintings from his native 
 county. The banks of the Tavy, the Walla brook which flows 
 into it, and the wooded hollow of Ina's Coombe, close to Tavi- 
 stock, are all directly referred to ; and the copses, the steep 
 ferny lanes, and the wild flowers which make up the staple 
 of his pictures, are all studies from the same neighbourhood. 
 The many direct local allusions in Browne's poems have been 
 well illustrated by Mrs. Bray, herself one of the celebrities of 
 Tavistock. 
 
 The wildest district of Devonshire — ^the forest of Dartmoor 
 ■ — ^has found an ardent and accomplished laureate in Oarring- 
 ton, wHose poem reflects its character vrith most entire and 
 loving fidelity. The wide shadow-swept wastes of heather, 
 the sound of rocky waters, and the turf smoke slowly ascend- 
 ing through the sharp mountain air, come back to us as we 
 turn over its pages. The wanderer on Dartmoor should by all 
 means make Oarrington his companion. His poem has well 
 been compared to certain wines, which can be drunk in 
 perfection nowhere but among their native hills. As in all 
 similar regions, the borders of the central moors are more 
 picturesque than the highland itself, which forms the water- 
 
DEVQNSHIBE. 359 
 
 shed of the county, and rises, at its greatest eminence, to a 
 height of more than 2000 feet. Deep, narrow coombes, 
 covered with a coppice of birch and oak, lie between the hills 
 that extend like bastions into the lower coimtry ; and each of 
 the river valleys — ^the Kym, the Dart, the Teign, and many a 
 lesser stream — -presents scenes of ancient untouched wood- 
 land, and, in its upper course, of granite-strewn glen and 
 ferny hill, such as might well inspire a far worse poet than 
 Oarrington. The tourist may make a circuit of Dartmoor, 
 never leaving, for more than a hundred miles, this wild and 
 romantic scenery, far more suggestive of the days of Sir 
 Tristram or of Britomart than of these brisker times of tele- 
 graph and railroad. It resembles, and very closely, those 
 parts of Galloway— the scenery of Guy Mannering — which 
 form a ring of wooded glens about the central moors and 
 mountains. But the Devonshire landscape impresses us with 
 a far greater sense of security and ancient peacefulness than 
 that of Dumfriesshire or the Stewartry. No rude ' tower of 
 lime and stane ' rises on its heathery knoU at the head of the 
 glen, or looks far out over the moors to catdi the first glance 
 of the distant forayers. The only enemies feared by the 
 Devonshire franklin were 'winter and rough weather;' and 
 the ancient farmhouses, with their granite porches, their great 
 walnut trees, and the beehives ranged under their casements, 
 are generally niched into the sunniest corner on the hill-side, 
 or preside over the green quiet meadows through which 
 the river sparkles onward. In early spring — 
 
 ' When all the hills with moor-bum are ablaze,' 
 
 and the peaks of the distant tors are half shrouded by wreaths 
 of white smoke — when the bright green of the birch woods 
 and larch plantations rivals the golden blaze of the furze, and 
 every coppice is fragrant with great tufts of primroses, the 
 scene from a hill-side on the Dartmoor border is exceeded in 
 
360 DEVONSHIEE. 
 
 beauty by none with which it can fairly be compared, either 
 in England or in Scotland. 
 
 Almost every class of scenery, however, has its representa- 
 tive in the county, which suppHes a not less wide range of 
 climate, from the bracing highland atmosphere of the moors 
 to the sunny warmth of the son<h coast, where oranges and 
 citrons ripen in the open air, and where flowers which are 
 elsewhere treated as exotics — the lovely ' Devoniensis' rose 
 among them — flourish unprotected throughout the winter. 
 Really to enjoy Devonshire it is still necessary to wander 
 among the intricate network of lanes which cross and recross 
 it in all directions. And if the distant views are somewhat 
 excluded, and roving propensities somewhat checked, no 
 traveller with the eye of an artist will quarrel with the steep 
 banks covered with ferns and wild flowers, and in due season 
 scarlet with strawberries — ' most toothsome to the palate,' says 
 old Fuller, who has placed them among the 'natural com- 
 modities ' of Devon ' (I mean if with clarett wine or sweet 
 cream), and so plentiful in this county that a traveller may 
 gather them sittitng on horseback in their hollow highwayes.' 
 Such was the depth of these ' hoUow highwayes ' in Westcote's 
 time, that he tells us a man might have then ridden from one 
 end of Devonshire to the other without seeing a single flock 
 of sheep. Perhaps the feat might still be accomphshed ; but 
 the tourist must in such case carefully avoid the magnificent 
 panoramas which open here and there from the lanes them- 
 selves, and which may always be seen by turning into the 
 fields at the hiU-crests. 
 
 Until the taU hedges of the Devonshire lanes have entirely 
 disappeared from the land — a. consummation which, it may be 
 feared, will follow in the train of modern agriculture — the 
 ancient dialect of the county wUl continue to maintain its 
 place. It will, no doubt, become obsolete as the country is 
 more and more opened by railways and good roads ; and in 
 
DEVONSHIBE. 361 
 
 the meantime the diligence of the local antiquary should be 
 exerted to procure as complete glossaries as possible.* The 
 dialect should be of no small interest to archaeologists, since, 
 according to Giraldus Cambrensis (writing in 1204), the 
 ' more ancient mode of speaking lingered longer in Devon- 
 shire than elsewhere,' although, he adds, the language now 
 appears more unpolished — ' incomposita.'t The ' ancient 
 mode of speaking ' was the genuine Saxon of Wessex ; and 
 words and phrases may yet be tieard in Devonshire which 
 have never become extinct through all the changes of a 
 thousand years. In what degree beauty, as well as antiquity, 
 is to be found in the local dialect, is a question which will be 
 variously decided, according as the judges are Devonians 
 or not. Roger North, who accompanied the Lord Keeper 
 Guildford on his circuit at the end of Charles II.' s reign, 
 insists that ' the common speech of Devonshire is more bar- 
 barous than in any other part of England — the north not ex- 
 cepted.' Few certainly would now be found to agree in this 
 judgment, although the stranger may still meet with many a 
 word rusted with age, and requiring explanation to all but 
 antiquarian ears. Where this is difficult, let us hope it may 
 be as judiciously avoided as in the case recorded by Peter 
 Pindar in his ' Royal Visit to Exeter' : — 
 
 ' Now Varmer Tab, I understand, 
 Drode his legs vore, and catched the hand, 
 
 And shaked wey might and main : 
 " I'm glad your Medjesty to zee. 
 And hope your Medjesty," quoth he, 
 " Wull ne'er be mazed again." 
 
 * The best illustrations of the Devonshire dialect which exist at 
 present are the Exmoor Scolding and Mrs. Gwatkin's Dialogue. The 
 locality in which a word is found should always be carefully noticed, 
 since the difference between the dialects of North and South Devon is 
 considerable. 
 
 t CanibrioB DencripUo, 1. i. c. 6, quoted by Sir Frederick Madden, 
 Preface to Layamon's Brut, p. xxvi. 
 
362 DEYONSHIEE. 
 
 " Mazed, mazed — What's mazed ? " then said the King, 
 " I never heerd of zioh a thing ; 
 
 "What's mazed, what, what — my Lord ? " 
 " Hem," zaid my Lord, and blowed his nose ; 
 "Hem, hem, Zir— 'tis, I do suppose, 
 
 Zir — zome old Devonshire word. " ' 
 
 DevonsHre is now almost entirely an agricultural county ; 
 for, although the woollen trade still lingers in a few towns, it 
 is not sufficiently extensive to be of great importance, and 
 now disperses but slender ' labours of the loom ' — 
 
 ' Through Dart, and sullen Exe, whose murmuring wave 
 Envies the Dune and Rother, who have won 
 The serge and kersies to their blanching streams.'* 
 
 Yet Devonshire was at one time a centre of this manufacture. 
 In the 12th and 13th centuries, Totnes was one of the chief 
 clothing towns of England ; and ' hose of fine Totnes ' appear 
 in sundry romances and in the Welsh ' Mabinogion,' when 
 the dress of an important personage is described as especially 
 splendid. Crediton became the later wool mart of the county. 
 ' As fine as Kirton (Crediton) spinning,' was a general pro- 
 verb ; and Westcote asserts that 140 threads of woolkai yarn 
 spun in that town were drawn together through the eye of 
 a tailor's needle, ' which needle and threads were, for many 
 years together, to be seen in Watling Street in London, in 
 the shop of one Mr. Dunscombe, at the sign of the Golden 
 Bottle.' 
 
 * Dyer's Fleece. 
 
VIII. 
 EOBEET HERRICK AND HIS YICARAGE.* 
 
 My deak , 
 
 Among the recollections of your Devonshire visit last 
 summer, you will not have thrown overboard that bright 
 afternoon we spent upon the steep hill-side over-looking 
 Dean Prior — Herrick's old vicarage, I remember that, 
 although you insisted on the cavaHer poet's having been 
 marvellously overrated, you allowed that a certain pleasant 
 feeling of old England — an atmosphere of the days 
 
 ' When late Elizabeth, 
 And later James came in,' 
 
 like that which comes across us for a moment in opening 
 some smoke-scented volume of Stow or Holinshed — still 
 lingered about the grey church tower and the hamlet nest 
 ling round it ; thanks to their sometime vicar, whose harvest- 
 homes and Christmas verses were probably floating in your 
 mind at the very time you were decrying their author. Well, 
 I still think that you and — pace tanti viri — Southey, whose 
 hasty judgment I daresay influenced yours, are both in the 
 wrong. Herrick is, in my mind, fully entitled to the repu- 
 tation he has ; and yet I scarcely wonder that many of his 
 readers should overlook the golden side of his shield, and 
 persist in estimating him by the reverse — I fear we must not 
 call it silver. One cause of this is the arrangement, ox rathei* 
 no arrangement, of the poems in his Hesperidea ; where the 
 * Frdiam's Magtmne, January, 1853. 
 
364 EOBEET HEEEICK 
 
 coarsest epigram is perhaps followed by half a dozen graceful 
 verses, full of tender feeling ; or a worthless imitation of 
 Martial or Ovid by a solemn prayer for the success of King 
 Charles. They remind one of some quaint old Roman 
 Catholic procession, in which shaven friars and morris- 
 dancers, saintly relics and frisking dragons, follow each 
 other in the happiest confusion ; and one can hardly be 
 surprised if the reader, who is thus compelled to inspect 
 some of the coarsest and most vulgar lines in the language, 
 should find himself in no mood for appreciating the verses of 
 Herrick's better mind, his ' Prayer to the Daffodils,' or his 
 ' Primroses Wet with Dew.' 
 
 However, I am not going to break a lance for him in set 
 form. This letter is intended, in accordance with your own 
 suggestion, to collect such relics of Ben Jonson's pupU (for 
 Herrick was one of the famous 'crew' that gathered about 
 that great master) as still linger- in his old haunts, and give 
 something of a classic air to an out-of-the-way Devonshire 
 parish. Moreover, since your visit, the kindness of his suc- 
 cessor at Dean has enabled me to examine the ancient parish 
 register, a volume over which one may dream- by the hour, 
 beginning in the days of Elizabeth, with the names of ' they 
 that died in the plague ' in Dean, and coming down to the 
 glories of Marlborough and Great Anna, when Master Scipio 
 Sturkley was vicar ; a personage, without doubt, of gravity 
 and erudition, who wrote his name in letters two inches long, 
 and made his entries solemnly, in the Latin tongue. But, 
 much as I admired Master Scipio's learning, I found in the 
 book certain very ill-written and worse spelt notices, which I 
 suspect you will agree with me in thinking of higher interest. 
 Many relate to Herrick and his household. You shall have 
 them in their proper places as we go on. 
 
 In the matter of family, Herrick could show a tree as 
 ancient and as richly blazoned as any that httng in the halls 
 
AND HIS VIOABAGE. 365 
 
 of the Devonshire squires who patronized him. The original 
 stock had been early settled in Leicestershire, and asserted 
 their descent from that Eric the Wild, who long held the 
 Marches of Wales against the hawberks of the advancing 
 Conqueror. Toward the middle of the sixteenth century, 
 two brothers of this ancient race settled in London as 
 jewellers and goldsmiths. These were Nicholas and William 
 Herrick, the first of whom was the poet's father. Robert, 
 his fourth son, by Julian, daughter of William Stone, of 
 Segentroe, in Berkshire, was born in 1591 ; and the register 
 of St. Vedast, Foster Lane, records his baptism on August 
 24th of that year. In 1592 his father lost his life by a fall 
 from an upper window of his house in Gheapside. He does 
 not seem to have been wealthy, but his numerous family 
 were not uncared for by their uncle, William Herrick, who 
 had been distinguished both by Elizabeth and James, the 
 latter of whom made him his principal jeweller, and on 
 Easter Tuesday, 1605, bestowed on him the honour of knight- 
 hood for his skill in piercing a certain great diamond. In 
 1615, Sir William caused Robert Herrick to be entered at 
 Cambridge as a fellow commoner of St. John's. He remained 
 there three years, and subsequently quitted the University 
 with the degree of M.A, A period of ten years now elapses, 
 during which we have no direct information concerning him ; 
 but it is clear, from his Hesperides, that he spent the greater 
 part of this time in London, and was admitted to the society 
 flf the most eminent wits of the day, — Drayton, Carew, 
 Selden, with Ben Jonson — just now at the height of his 
 reputation — as their president. In his solitary western 
 vicarage, Herrick delighted to return in memory to these 
 days of ' glorious life.' 
 
 'Ah, Ben! 
 
 Say how or when. 
 Shall we thy guests 
 
 Meet at those lyrick feasts 
 
366 EOBEET HEERICK 
 
 Made at the Sun, 
 The Dog, the triple Tun,— 
 
 Where we such clusters had 
 As made us nobly wild, not mad. 
 
 And yet each verse of thine 
 Outdid the meat, outdid the frolick wine.' 
 
 I cannot ascertain at what time he took orders, but in 1629 
 he was presented, through the patronage of the Earl of 
 Exeter, to the vicarage of Dean Prior. He was then aged 
 thirty-eight, and seems to have been completely without the 
 means of independent support. But although the certainty 
 thus afforded him must have been welcome enough, we 
 cannot doubt that those were not very pleasant feelings with 
 which he took leave of Jonson and the rest, and set out on 
 his journey into the country, where, to use the words of 
 Luce, in Beaumont's Comedy, 'no old charneco is, nor no 
 anchovies, nor Master such-an-one to meet at the Rose.' 
 
 A greater contrast to the gaiety of the capital could 
 scarcely be imagined than he met with in his new parish ; 
 where the roads were little better than watercourses or 
 cattle-tracks — where the greater part of what is now corn- 
 field and pasture was still unreclaimed moor and coppice — 
 and where, instead of the nodes ccmceque Deum, he could 
 only expect the company of two or three rough Devonshire 
 ' squirelets,' whose study, like Sir Hildebrand Osbaldistone's, 
 was confined to a page of GuUlym on rainy afternoons. In 
 this respect, however, he found himself better off than he 
 perhaps anticipated. You will not have forgotten the old 
 gabled manor-house I pointed out to you, rising from the 
 midst of tall trees and orchards, with green lines of meadow 
 land sparkling here and there between them.. Here lived, 
 when Herrick first came into the west, a certain Sir Edward 
 Giles, who had in his youth 'trailed a pike ' in the Low 
 Countries, in the service of Queen Elizabeth of glorious 
 memory, and who had long represented the town of Totnes 
 
AND HIS YICABAGE. 367 
 
 in Parliament, * taking care,' says Prince, ' to give to Csesar 
 the things that were Caesar's, and to the country the things 
 that were the country's.' He was also one of the Deputy- 
 Lieutenants of the county; and his house — the remains of 
 which show how amply it was provided for the open-armed 
 hospitality of those days — was thronged with a succession of 
 visitors. Here, therefore, Herrick found something better 
 than the good fellowship of the Dean franklins ; and here it 
 must have been that his ' florid and witty discourse ' recom- 
 mended him, as Anthony Wood tells us it did, to the friend- 
 ship and especial consideration of the west country digni- 
 taries. It is easy to conceive with how greatly increased a 
 relish they turned over the folios of Drayton or ' rare Ben,' 
 that lay in their hall windows, after listening to Herrick's 
 stories of his London life, and hearing, from one so well able 
 to tell them, how the writers themselves lived, and talked, 
 and dressed. Herrick enjoyed another advantage at Dean 
 Court, however, with which we are more immediately con- 
 cerned. It was here that he found in perfection aU those old 
 ceremonies and customs, for a trace of which we should now 
 for the most part look in vain, even in out-of-the-world 
 Devonshire. 
 
 Christmas, with its watching of the pie,* its carols and 
 
 * This custom, so far as I know, is unnoticed by any one but 
 Herrick. A solitary watcher, — 
 
 ' Having his eyes still in his ear, 
 And a deal of nightly fear,' — 
 
 guarded the pie through the night before Christmas. The pie 
 represented the manger of Bethlehem, and its contents the wise 
 men's offerings. The Devonshire ' Christmas play ' has had a curious 
 fate. Except perhaps in some of the moorland parishes, it has 
 disappeared at home. But the Newfoundland fisheries were long 
 carried on for the most part by sailors from the neighbourhood of 
 Dartmouth and Tor Bay; and Mr. Jukes tells us that the streets 
 of St. John's, at Christmas-time, continue to exhibit St. George, the 
 Turkish Knight, and all their companions, in full vigour. 
 
368 EOBEBT HEERICK 
 
 its mummers— when Sir Edward's hall was opened to high 
 and low, and 
 
 ' My good dame, she 
 Bade all be free, 
 And drink to their hearts' desiring.' 
 
 May-day, with its garlands and its hawthorn boughs ; or 
 harvest-home, when the ' hock-cart,' all decked with white 
 linen, bore the last load to the barn through the deepening 
 twilight ; and 
 
 ' Some blesse the cart, some kiase the sheaves, 
 Some pranke them up with oaken leaves. 
 Some crosse the fill-horse, some with great 
 Devotion stroak the home-borne wheat,' 
 
 — almost every festival that the year brought round is noticed 
 in the Hesperides, and in such a manner as to prove how 
 deeply Herrick had been struck by their old-world poetry. 
 It is worth mentioning, too, that many of the spells, charms, 
 and bits of folk-lore that are scattered through his volumes, 
 are still to be found in his parish, and in a flourishing condi- 
 tion. Even Master Scipio's learning could not altogether 
 put to flight these phantoms of Saxon heathendom. 
 
 For eight years Herrick enjoyed all the advantages of Sir 
 Edward Giles's close neighbourhood. In 1634 a remonstrance 
 against the imposition of ship money was sent up to the 
 court, signed by many gentlemen of Devonshire, of whom 
 Sir Edward was one. ' Their petition,' says Mark Grarrard, 
 the correspondent of Strafford, 'was ill taken, aiid five of 
 them sent for up, who are come all, except Giles, who is weak, 
 and not able to appear. They have received some reprimand, 
 and so I believe will be dismissed back again ; it being 
 punishment enough to them to have travelled 400 miles 
 to so small purpose.' Giles's excuse was probably no idle 
 one. He died in December, 1637 ; and his epitaph was 
 supplied by Herrick. His monument still remains in Dean 
 
AND HIS VICAEAGE. 369 
 
 Church, where he is represented in armour, once richly gilt, 
 with his hands raised in prayer, accompanied by my Lady 
 Griles, in the stateliest of ruflfs, and the stiffest of farthing- 
 ales. The inscription below is all but illegible ; and although 
 preserved by Prince, in his Worthies of Devon, has never been 
 inserted in any edition of Herrick's poems. 
 
 ' No trust to metals or to marbles, when 
 These have their fate, and wear away as men ; 
 Times, titles, trophies, may be lost and spent. 
 But virtue rears the eternal monument. 
 What more than this can tombs or tombstones pay ? 
 But here's the sunset of a tedious day. 
 These two asleep are ; I'll but be undrest. 
 And so to bed. , Pray wish us all good rest.' 
 
 Sir Edward died childless ; but Dean Court continued to 
 be inhabited by a family long connected with his own, that 
 of Yarde or At-Yarde. On the 5th of September, 1639, 
 according to the old register, Henry Northleigh and Mistress 
 Lettice Yard were married at Dean Church. At this 
 marriage of the ' most witty Mistress Lettice,' as he calls her, 
 Herrick contributed the ' Entertainment, or Porch Verse' : — 
 
 ' Welcome ! but yet no entrance till we blesse, 
 First you, then you — and both for white successe. 
 Profane no porch, young man and maid, for fear 
 Ye wrong the threshold god that keeps peace here. 
 Please him ; and then all good hick will betide 
 You, the brisk bridegroom, — you, the dainty bride.' 
 
 The ' Good-night, or blessing,' succeeds. It was on their 
 return from church that the bride and bridegroom were 
 received with peculiar ceremony at the porch, carefully 
 decked with ' gilded bays and rosemary ' for the occasion. 
 
 Fallen as it is from its high estate, Dean Court still pre- 
 serves some relics of its old dignity. The greater part has 
 been pulled down. But the hall, with its antlered walls and 
 its wide fire-place, beside which Herrick must often have sat, 
 and portions of the ' great chamber ' above, still remain : and 
 
 24 
 
370 BOBEET HEEEICK 
 
 there is the open porch with its granite seats, where he may 
 have Hngered on a summer's evening, whilst Mistress Lettice 
 or Mistress Dorothy touched her lute, and sang his own 
 ' Gather your rosebuds while ye may,' fairly set by Master 
 Lawes. But the true relic of the poet, that which most 
 immediately suggests him to the visitor, is the actual scenery 
 of his parish. Lying on the very skirts of Dartmoor, it is 
 broken into constant waves of hill and valley, so that a breadth 
 of truly level ground is scarcely to be found in it. And 
 throughout, one ' flock ' following another in beautiful succes- 
 sion, every coppice and meadow and steep-banked lane is 
 starred from early spring to late autumn with those wild 
 flowers in which Herrick so greatly delighted. There is the 
 little homestead, with the steep orchard rising behind it, where 
 the sun ' glints ' through the mossy boughs upon clusters of 
 daffodils and snowdrops, and where, later on, the ground is 
 whitened with fallen blossoms, — 
 
 ' Lovely leaves, where we 
 May read how all things have 
 Their end, though ne'er so brave ; 
 And after they have shown their pride 
 Like you, awhile, they glide 
 Into the grave.' 
 
 There is the mossy path through the hazel copse, where ^e 
 March violets first look up, — his 
 
 ' Maids of honour, 
 That doe bring 
 In the spring 
 And wait upon her.' 
 
 And as to his primroses, whose ' birth in tears ' even you 
 consent to admire, I cannot hope to convey the smallest idea 
 of their beauty to any one who has not seen their great tufts 
 of flowers in full possession of every bank and hedge through- 
 out the county, until the wild blue hyacinth appears in its 
 turn, and fairly drives them out of the field. 
 
mD ms viCABAGE. 371 
 
 In all this, the more Cultivated portion of his district, 
 Herrick, it is dear, greatly delighted, let him say what he 
 will about his 'discontents in Devon.' But iliere is one 
 poem in the HespetHdes presenting a singular contrast. 
 Above Dean Court, a long narrow glen passes up into the 
 moors, the upper part of which was at one time enclosed as a 
 deer park. Nothing can be more beautiful than this solitary 
 valley. It gradually narrows from the uplands, sprinkled 
 with fern and rushes, then deepens with steep and lofty 
 ' scaurs,' holly tufted, and broken with patdhes of grey rock, 
 between which wind narrow green paths, suggesting solemn 
 processions of the ' small people ; ' then the wood begins to 
 thicken, and you only catch here and there, between the 
 leaves, the sparkle of the stream that runs through it, and 
 look down upon the wood-pigeons' nests in the knotted oak 
 branches ; until at last the trees close over all the lower part 
 of the glen, and rise far up along its steep sides. Through 
 the whole length a clear hill-stream brawls, and foams, and 
 dashes — now broken into waterfalls, overhung with holly and 
 deep-growing heather — and now lying in broad dark pools, 
 giving back the gold of the broom, or the scarlet clusters of 
 the mountain ash. This is the Dean Burn, which Herrick 
 thus apostrophises, apparently when about to quit his 
 living : — 
 
 ' Dear Bum, farewell ; I never look to see 
 I)eane, nor thy warty incivility. 
 Thy rocky bottom that doth tear thy streams, 
 And make them frantic, even to all extreames 
 To my content, I never should behold. 
 Were thy streames silver, or thy rocks all gold. 
 Bockie thou art ; and rockie we discover 
 Thy men ; and rockie are thy ways all over. 
 O men ! O manners ! now and ever knowne 
 To be a rockie generation ! 
 A people currish — churlish as the seas, 
 And rude almost as rudest salvages, 
 
372 EGBERT HEEEICK 
 
 With whom I did, and may re-sojoume, when 
 Bocks turn to rivers — ^rivers turn to men.' 
 
 Wordsworth would hare looked on the wooded coombes 
 and granite-strewn hill-sides with different eyes ; and Words- 
 worth would have found something to study in the ' salvages' 
 of Dean, beside their rooky ways and churlish manners. But 
 the days of the Excursion were as yet far distant ; and although 
 Herrick loved Jus yiolets and his primroses, ' the sleep that is 
 among the lonely hills' had no charms for him. Wordsworth 
 has himself pointed out that the feeling for wild and solitary 
 scenery belongs only to a highly cultivated age. 
 
 The vicarage in which Herrick lived has long since dis- 
 appeared. It was hterally a ' cell,' as he himself calls it ; 
 yet it seems that he found room in it for his sister-in-law, 
 Elizabeth Herrick, who, I find from the register, was buried 
 at Dean, April 11, 1643. She is commemorated more than 
 once in his poems : 
 
 ' First for effusions due unto the dead, 
 My solemne vows have here accomplished ; 
 ^eyt, how I love thee — that my grief must tell, 
 Wherein thou liv'st for ever : Deare, farewell.' 
 
 The rest of his household were his maid, Prue, and his spaniel. 
 Tray : and his thanksgiving for his house supplies us with a 
 picture of his condition, part of which you must forgive me 
 for inserting in this place : 
 
 ' Lord, Thou hast given me a cell 
 
 Wherein to dwell ; 
 A little house whose humble roof 
 
 Is weather proof. 
 Under the spars of which I lie 
 
 Both soft and dry. 
 Where thou, my chamber soft to ward, 
 
 Hast set a guard 
 Of harmless thoughts, to watch and keep 
 
 Me while I sleep. 
 Low is my porch, as is my fate, 
 
 Both void of state. 
 
AND HIS -VICARAGE. 373 
 
 And yet the threshold of my door 
 
 Is worn by the poor, 
 Who hither come and freely get 
 
 Good words or meat. 
 Like as my parlour, so my hall 
 
 And kitchen's small ; 
 A little butterie, and therein 
 
 A little byn ; 
 Some little sticks of thorn or brier 
 
 Make me a fire, 
 Close by whose living coal I sit 
 
 And glow like it. 
 Lord ! I confess, too, when I dine, 
 
 The pulse is thine, 
 And all those other bite that be 
 
 There placed by Thee — 
 The worts, the purslane, and the mess 
 
 Of water-cress. 
 Thou mak'st my teeming hen to lay 
 
 Her eggs each day, 
 Besides my healthful ewes to bear 
 
 Me twins each year, 
 The while the conduits of my kine 
 
 Hun cream for wine. 
 All these, and better, Thou dost send 
 
 Me to this end — 
 That I should render, for my part, 
 
 A thankful heart, 
 Which, fired with incense, I resign 
 
 Aa whoUy Thine ; 
 But the acceptance, — that must be, 
 
 My Christ, by Thee ! ' 
 
 There is no discontent or repining here ; hnt as the times 
 became more troubled, and the troubles affected his part of 
 Devonshire more nearly, his position became a less fortunate 
 one. Dean Court was deserted ; he lost in consequence his 
 only neighbouring friends ; and with them in all probability 
 the originals of those nmnerous ' mistresses ' whom he cele- 
 brates in some of his most graceful verses. Who * stately 
 Julia ' was I cannot guess. Perhaps ' the most witty Mistress 
 Lettice' was Corinna : 
 
374 EOBEET HEEEICK 
 
 ' I hare lost, and lately, these 
 Many dainty mistresses ; 
 Stately Julia, prince of all ; 
 Sappho next, a principal. 
 Smooth Anthea, for a skin 
 White, and heaven-like crystalline 
 Sweet Electra ; and the choice 
 Myrrha, for the lute and voice. 
 Next Corinna, for h^ wit. 
 And the graceful use of it ; 
 With Peiilla. All are gone, 
 Only Herrick's left alone. 
 For to number sorrow by 
 ■ Their departures hence, and die.' 
 
 There were other causes, however, for his 'discontents.' 
 In whatever manner he had been received at first, it seems 
 probable that as the country grew more disturbed, his high- 
 church and cavalier spirit gave ofience to the puritans of his 
 parish. There are some verses addressed by him to the 
 Bishop of Lincoln, WilHams, the great opponent of Laud, 
 upon his imprisonment, which imply that he had been noticed 
 unfavourably by that party. The minor proprietors about 
 Dean were nearly all attached to the side of the Parliament ; 
 and strong puritanical leaven existed among them. Herrick's 
 poems were not published until after he quitted Dean ; but 
 in that age they circulated freely in manuscript ; and it must 
 be allowed that the tone of many of them was not likely to 
 raise him in the opinion of his parishioners. At all events 
 he became more and more dissatisfied : 
 
 ' More discontents I never had 
 Since I was bom than here, 
 Where I have been, and still am sad. 
 In this duU Devonshire.' 
 
 At last the end came. Li 1648 he shared the fate of the 
 clergy who refused to take the covenant, and was expelled 
 from his living, which fell to the lot of one John Syms, a 
 pious painful preacher. 
 
 He at once found his way to London, and in the same 
 
AND Hia VICAEAGE. 375 
 
 year published his Hesperides. Perhaps the best excuse that 
 can be made for much that the volume contains is the fact 
 that he counted on the sale of it as a means of immediate 
 support, and that the general public of those days, like Mrs. 
 Jarley's, 'needed stimulating.' But I must admit at once 
 that there was a natural coarseness in Herrick's mind, which 
 shows itself every now and then even in his very best verses. 
 It has gone far to spoil hia fairy poems, notwithstanding 
 their quaint fancifulness ; and I cannot but think that any 
 claim of cousinhood advanced by his elfin court would 
 certainly be disregarded by the Dartmoor pixies, or the 
 Scottish ' gude neighbours.' The mass of his amatory poems 
 are not less marked by a thorough vulgarity ; and yet a 
 single ' Night piece to Julia' ought to weigh heavily on the 
 other side. 
 
 For many years he continued in London, dependent on his 
 friends for support, and we have no means of tracing his 
 course of life. But after the Restoration he returned to 
 Dean Prior, where he died. ' Eobert Herrick, Vicker,' says 
 the register, was buried the 15th day of October, 1674, In 
 all his troubles his faithful servant Prue attended him : 
 
 ' These summer birds did with thy master stay 
 The times of warmth, but then they flew away. 
 But thou, kind Prue, didst with my fates abide 
 As well the winter's as the summer's tide. 
 For which thy love, live with thy master here 
 Not one, but all the seasons of the yeare.' 
 
 It is pleasant to know that this old friend returned with 
 him to Dean, and lies buried in the same churchyard with 
 her master. She did not long survive him. The register 
 records the burial of 'Prue Balden' on the 7th of January, 
 1678* 
 
 No portrait of Herrick is known to exist. Our only 
 knowledge of his personal appearance is derived from the 
 engraving by Marshal on the title-page of his Hesperides 
 
376 EOBEET HEREICK 
 
 and iihis is not aitractive. The eye alone, large and promi- 
 nent, seems to mark the poet. He teUs us himself, however, 
 that he was ' mop-eyed,' near-sighted, and that he had lost a 
 finger. When the writer of the notice of Herrick, contained 
 ia the Quarterly Review for August, 1810, visited Dean, 
 there were still some traditions of him among the people. 
 They have now quite disappeared ; and we are indebted to 
 that writer for telling us that he is said to have amused 
 himself by teaching a pig to drink from a silver tankard ; 
 and that he once, provoked at their inattention, flung his 
 sermon at the heads of his congregation. His beautiful 
 ' Litany to the Holy Spirit' was then, too, remembered ; 
 and a certain Dorothy King was in the habit of repeating 
 - many of the verses when lying sleepless in the night. The 
 church contains no memorial of him.* It is said to have 
 been extensively repaired by Sir Edward Giles, who — so 
 runs the tradition — ^fed and lodged the labourers at Dean 
 Court whilst the work was proceeding. Very recently it 
 has undergone an almost complete rebuilding. But the 
 
 * This was written in 1853. In 1857 a mural tablet was erected in 
 the church of Dean Prior, by the present representative of the 
 Herrick family. This is a very handsome carved stone with raised 
 scrolls, surrounding a brass, on which, below the shield of the 
 Herricks (Argent, fesse vaire, or and gules), is the following inscrip- 
 tion : — ' In this churchyard lie the remains of Robert Herrick, author 
 of the " Hesperides " and other poems ; of an ancient family in 
 Leicestershire, and bom in the year 1591. He was educated at St. • 
 John's College and Trinity Hall, Cambridge ; presented to this 
 living by King Charles I., in the year 1629 ; ejected during the 
 Commonwealth ; and reinstated soon after the restoration. He died 
 Vicar of this parish in the year 1674. This tablet was erected to 
 his memory by his kinsman, WiUiam Perry Herrick, of Beaumanor 
 Parkj Leicestershire, a.d. 1857. 
 
 " Our mortal parts may wrapt in searecloths lye : 
 Great spirits never with their bodies die." — Hesperides.' 
 
 Below is the Herrick motto: 'Virtus omnia nobilitat.' For this 
 copy of the inscription I am indebted to the present Vicar of Dean 
 Prior, the Reverend E. Chatterton Orpen. 
 
AND HIS VICABAGE. 377 
 
 iower is untouched, and the interior has still an unpretending 
 simple character, well in keeping with the congregation of 
 quiet country folk who regularly assemble there. The old 
 monuments — that of Sir Edward Giles, splendid with its 
 Ionic columns and gilded armour, and one or two later ones, 
 with flames, and cherubs, and torches — ^were carefully pre- 
 served and replaced. Around lies the small green church- 
 yard, with a few old pines in its hedgerow, and overlooked 
 by waving corn-fields from the hill-side above. "When Herrick 
 wrote, an enormous yew-tree shadowed nearly the whole 
 enclosure, and brushed the w^Us of the church. This has 
 long perished. But there is still a youthful descendant, 
 whose ' branches, never sere,' may possibly shade the tomb 
 of Herrick, according to the desire expressed in his lines ' To 
 the Yew and Cypress ' : 
 
 ' Both you two have 
 Relation to the grave, 
 And where 
 The funeral trump sounds, you are there. 
 I shall be made 
 Ere long a fleeting shade ; 
 Pray come 
 And do some honour to my tomb.' 
 
 The actual site of this tomb is unknown ; but surely Dean 
 Prior should not be without some record of her old vicar. 
 Non ubi nascor, sed ubi pascor, is Fuller's rule for distributing 
 his worthies, and Herrick must be contented with the mark 
 of the Devonshire flock. His ' sometime ' parish may well 
 be proud of having nurtured one who has obtained a lasting 
 — though it may not be a very lofty — place among the 
 illustrious company of British poets. 
 
IX. 
 
 SKETCHES AND STUDIES FEOM BELGIUM, 
 I. Mechlin.* 
 
 "^rO Belgian town has a more thoroughly Old-World 
 -^^ look than Mechlin. All the world enters it now from 
 the railway station ; but some fifty years since, when the 
 stranger, journeying with becoming Flemish gravity, ap- 
 proached the town by the old-fashioned coche d'eau of the 
 canals, he must have been infinitely more impressed as, 
 entering beneath the Brusselsche Poort, with its steep-roofed 
 turrets, he passed up the long, irregular street to the Grand 
 Place, overhung by the gigantic tower of the cathedral. He 
 would not have seen a building that is not at least a century 
 old, and scarcely one that does not suggest some passage 
 from the troubled history of the town. That house, with 
 arched windows and quaint Gothic tracery spreading over it, 
 must have seen the entrance of Maximillian and his knights, 
 each with a fox's brush dangHng at the head of his lance, 
 when he passed through Mechlin on his way to meet his 
 bride, Mary of Burgundy. That other, den grooten zalm, 
 with a carved salmon over the door, and elaborate ornaments 
 of early renaissance covering its front, must have been built 
 not long before the musqueteers of Alva swept through the 
 streets, and may have looked down upon our own Sir John 
 Norris and all the troubles of the English furie. Nothing 
 can be more picturesque than the openings here and there 
 * Fraser's Magamie, October, 1855. 
 
I. MECHLIN. 379 
 
 into the side streets, or the glimpses from the many bridges 
 up the long canals, where gable-ends and crow-steps and 
 half-ruinous towers of red brick mingle in sunshine and deep 
 shadow with patches of old-fashioned garden and clumps of 
 lilac and seringa. Here the sun lights up an overhanging 
 wooden building, with carved monsters for its brackets, and 
 Les Quatre Mis Aymon for its sign. Here is another. In 
 den Christofel, with the gigantic saint and his pine-tree over 
 the door ; and another, with Adam and Eve, the tree of 
 knowledge, and the serpent, carved and painted between the 
 windows ; whilst groups of shining brass jugs, such as 
 Teniers or Ostade painted, or the broad leaves of some old- 
 fashioned plant, geranium or white arum, look out from 
 behind the lattices, set in their solemn grey stonework. It 
 is along the banks of the Dyle, running through the town, 
 that you find most traces of the ancient glory of Mechlin — 
 relics of times when kings and emperors were no rare guests 
 in its palaces, and when great Italian dames were content to 
 send to the fair of St. Rumold for a robe of its panno mesclito, 
 a mixed cloth which the looms of Bruges and Ypres could 
 not equal. There is a certain corner, too, of the Grand Place 
 where one may dream very pleasantly when the sunset is 
 dying away along the rock-like ledges 6f the cathedral tower; 
 whilst the picturesque old holies below, with their flandrikan 
 turrets and steep roofs, and aU the quaint outline of the 
 houses that surround the square, are already indistinct in the 
 twilight. Ketters have been burnt there, and knights have 
 jousted, and the shadows of days long passed away still seem 
 to fall- about the quiet old place. The actual figures that 
 pass, moreover, are sufficiently in harmony. Some old lady, 
 with Antwerp bonnet and long lace lappets, and an enormous 
 gold cross fastening her scarlet kerchief; or another, wrapped 
 in her black Spanish say a ; or the glancing lights and tinkling 
 bell mark where the Host is being carried back to the 
 
380 SKETCHES AND STUDIES PEOM BELGIUM. 
 
 cathedral ; or it is a procession of country people, witli the 
 little painted banners of Our Lady of Scherpenheuvel stuck 
 in their hats. 
 
 Mechlin is famous for its processions, as becomes the place 
 of an archbishop's see ; and whoever wishes to forget all the 
 stir and interests of this present time, and to pass back again 
 into the heart of the fifteenth century, should betake himself 
 to the grand festival of St. Rumold, when his silver shrine is 
 carried solemnly through the streets, and round by the old 
 walls of the town. The rows of white-robed clergy, intoning 
 a litany as they pass along over the flags and rushes, mixed 
 with white and red rose-leaves and bluettes from the corn- 
 fields, that every good housewife hastens from her door to 
 scatter in their way ; the guilds with their keerse banners, 
 hung with the emblems of their trades ; the smoke from the 
 swinging censers floating up before the great shrine itself, 
 that goes onward sparkling in the sunshine ; then the 
 cardinal archbishop under his baldachin, his scarlet train 
 upheld, and the amethyst ring on his outstretched fimger, 
 blessing the kneeling people ;— all is as little like ' this present 
 now ' as can possibly be desired ; and if before seeing it 
 the spectator cared nothing at all about Mechlin and St. 
 Rumold, most certainly he wiU afterwards wish to know 
 something of their history. 
 
 All that is really known of St. Rumold — to whom the 
 town of Mechlin itself owes its existence — is soon told. 
 Fuller's ' all-eating time ' has indeed left ' but a very little 
 morsel of his memory in the dish, for manners' sake.' He 
 was one of that intrepid band of Anglo-Saxon missionaries, 
 among whom were Willebrord and Boniface, who during the 
 early Carolingian period did so much towards spreading the 
 truths of Christianity among the then fiercely barbarous 
 tribes of central and northern Germany. Toward the end of 
 the eighth century, in the course of his wanderings through 
 
I. MECHLIN. 381 
 
 the wild forests from whicli the district of Brabant* derives 
 its name, he was received in the villa of acertain Count Ado, 
 who, with his wife Elisa (both are general names, indicating 
 noble birth), was favourably disposed towards the new 
 teaching. Ado granted him a piece of land called the 
 Ulmetum, from the quantity of elms growing on it ; and 
 here Rumold erected his church and his monastery, the germ 
 of the future Mechlin. He laboured long and successfully, 
 but was at last martyred by the comites of Ado, as he was 
 walking alone under the shadow of his elm-trees, meditating 
 the psalms, according to his daily custom. A gigantic tree, 
 at the foot of which he is said to have fallen, was still pointed 
 out in the middle of the last century. 
 
 This is all that can be ascertained with even the appearance 
 of truth ; but this is by no means all that is to be found in 
 the folio of the Jesuit SoUerius, who has collected with great 
 care and learning all the different lives and legends of St. 
 Rumold,t the ' Eose-tree of Mechlin.' The earliest life is by 
 Theodoric, Abbot of St. Trond, near Lifege, and dates from 
 the beginning of the twelfth century. He seems to have 
 preserved all the traditions then existing at Mechlin ; but by 
 the end of the fourteenth century vast additions had been 
 made : something of the colouring of chivalric romance had 
 been thrown over the earlier story; and aU those various buds 
 and blossoms had shot forth from the original stem which 
 may be admired in the series of early pictures decorating the 
 coronal of chapels which encircle the choir of the cathedral, f 
 
 * Brak-bmit — the brake or forest district. 
 
 t Acta 8, Rumoldi. Antwerp. 1704. Rumoldus is the true name, 
 which becomes Rombaut in Flemish. 
 
 J Of these pictures, one, the ' Reception of St. Bumold by the Pope,' 
 is said to be by Jehan van Eyck. At all events, this and another — ^the 
 ' Interview of St. Rumold and St. Giinunar ' — are well worth careful 
 examination. The earlier portion of the series is most valuable as 
 authority for the costume and architecture of the first half of the 
 fifteenth century. 
 
382 SKETCHES AND STUDIES FEOM BELGIUM. 
 
 This later legend asserts that St. Rumold was the son of 
 David, King of Scotland, and of Cecilia, Princess of Sicily, 
 his queen. ' Sidus ' — ^runs the hymn from his office — 
 
 Sidus ortvim in Scotorum 
 
 Begione nobile, 
 Lumen in Brabantinorum 
 
 Terra dat mirabile. 
 
 An angel appears to Gruallafer, Archbishop of Dublin, and 
 predicts the birth of the child, who practises, the severest 
 asceticism from his earliest years. On three days during the 
 week he would only once take the breast — the three days 
 figuring the Trinity — the single number the Unity. He 
 refuses to marry, dechnes the rule of his father's kingdom, 
 and on Guallafer's death is ordained his successor by the 
 Archbishop of Canterbury j only, as it would seem, for the 
 satisfaction of resigning the pall, which he does at once into 
 the hands of the Pope ; and then, habited, as we learn from 
 the cathedral pictures, in a grey robe trimmed with Mechlin 
 lace, yellow gloves, and a purple doctor's cap of Louvain, he 
 sets forth to seek the soUtudo to which he had been divinely 
 directed. This is Mechlin, where he arrives, and is received 
 as before. He raises Libertus, the son of Ado, who had 
 fallen into the Dyle and had been drowned ; and on the 
 Baptist's day two of the workmen engaged in building his 
 church attack and kill him for the sake of his purse, in 
 which however they find only three silver pieces, memorials 
 of the Holy Trinity. They throw his body into the water. 
 A mysterious Kght shining above it, guides the fishermen to 
 the place. Itisraised, and is buried in the church in progress 
 now the cathedral of Mechlin. 
 
 To this legend — set forth by SoUerius in quaint old 
 Flemish prose, and in quainter rhyme at the foot of the 
 Van Eyck pictures in the chapels — was of course added a 
 long string of marvels resulting from the many virtues of 
 
I. MECHLIN. 383 
 
 St. Rumold's remains. These, after the Northmen had 
 
 ceased their ravages — and St. Rumold's monastery was more 
 
 than once plundered by them — were taken from the earth, 
 
 and placed in a shrine of gold and jewels. From this period 
 
 pilgrims flocked to them in great numbers, and ihe reputation 
 
 of ' Mechlinia Sancta,' as the town began to be called, spread 
 
 on aU sides. The murderers of St. Thomas of Canterbury, 
 
 says the Flemish legend, immediately on the perpetration of 
 
 their crime, were struck with loss of taste and of smell. The 
 
 Pope, to whom they applied for absolution, ordered them 
 
 to wander throughout the world, never sleeping for two 
 
 succeeding nights at the same place, until their senses should 
 
 be restored to them: This they did ; and after many years' 
 
 pflgrimage they arrived at Cologne, where for the first time 
 
 since the murder they tasted the wine they were drinking. 
 
 It seemed to them sweeter than honey ; and they exclaimed 
 
 with one voice, ' Oh, blessed Cologne ! ' From thence they 
 
 passed on to Mechlin, and as they entered the town, a woman 
 
 met them carrying a basket of newly baked bread. The 
 
 knights smelt the new loaves, and cried, ' Oh, holy Mechlin ! ' 
 
 The Pope, when he heard what had occurred, heaped benefits 
 
 on benefits on these two favoured towns ; and the three 
 
 brothers (for such the Mechlin tradition asserts them to have 
 
 been) built huts for themselves under the shadow of St. 
 
 Rumold's church, where they died ; and on their graves was 
 
 written : 
 
 Rychardus Brito, necnon Norwilius Hugo 
 Guilelmus Traci, Beginaldus filius Ursi 
 Thomam martyrium subire fecere beatum. 
 
 This inscription certainly at one time existed ; and it is 
 
 just possible that the whole legend has arisen from some 
 
 actual pilgrimage of the knights to the shrine of St. 
 
 Rumold.* However this may be, its reputation continued 
 
 * For the real history of the murderers, see Dean Stanley's very inter- 
 
384 SKETCHES AND STUDIES FEOM BELGIUM. 
 
 steadily increasing. Wanderers through the sohtary wastes 
 about Mechlin found that the evil things haunting them 
 fled before the name of the saint. Cures innumerable were 
 wrought before his relics ; and a fox that had carried off a 
 cock belonging to certain nuns under the especial protection 
 of St. Rumold, was compelled to bring back his prey safe 
 and sound, and to lay it reverently at the feet of the abbess. 
 In the contests moreover which Mechlin had to sustain 
 against the Bishops of Liege and the Dukes of Brabant, 
 St. Eimiold assisted the good town nobly. On one occasion, 
 when the walls were surrounded by a numerous host, Peter 
 de Dondelaar, a so-called English knight, who had taken 
 service under the Advocate of Mechlin, requested that some 
 holy reHc might be given to him before he went forth to the 
 battle. They brought him a rib of St. Rumold, which he 
 fastened into the upper part of his shield ; and as it afforded 
 a far more powerful protection than any magical herb or 
 enchanted sword that could be opposed to it, the knight 
 overthrew all he met, and rapidly dispersed the hostile 
 army. 
 
 Monseigneur St. Rumold, notwithstanding the assistance 
 he thus gave to the knightly defenders of Mechlin, never 
 became a gran harone, such as the Romance writers have 
 made of St. Peter at Rome and St. James at Compostella ; 
 but he was a prince and a gentleman, and could consequently 
 prove his sixteen quarterings ; and, although he had resigned 
 his heritage of the Scottish crown, he was not the less en- 
 titled to display the red lion rampant upon its field of gold. 
 
 estia.^ Memorials of Canterbury. Hoveden says they lay buried before 
 the door of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre at Jerusalem, with an 
 inscription not unlike the Mechlin one. ' NorwUius,' in this last, is of 
 course intended for ' Mondlius ; ' and it is worth observing that the 
 names of the knights, Richard le Bret, Hugh de MorvUle, WiUiam 
 Tracy, and Beginald Fitzurse, are correctly given. SoUerius suggests 
 that the tradition of the three brothers arose from a mistranslation of 
 ' Keginaldus filius Ursi.' 
 
I. MECHLIN. 385 
 
 Accordingly, in the church pictures, the shield of Scotland 
 appears suspended on a tree above St. Rumold's head, whilst 
 he is engaged in earnest conference with the less distinguished 
 soldier-saint, Gummar of Lierre. It was blazoned, too, on 
 the old cathedral windows, with the addition in the upper 
 half of the shield of three glebcB or sods, with three ears of 
 wheat springing from each, in allusion to the agricultural 
 and spiritual benefits brought about by Kumold ; and at last 
 the archbishops of Mechlin, beginning with Cardinal Gran- 
 velle, thought themselves entitled, as representatives of the 
 Saint, to quarter the royal arms of Scotland with their own 
 and those of Mechlin. It is only the last two or three arch- 
 bishops who have ceased to bear these quarterings. They 
 appear on the seals of their predecessors, and on their tombs 
 in the cathedral.* 
 
 At a very early period, during that time of confusion 
 which followed the death of Charles the G-reat, the district of 
 Mechlin passed into the hands of the Bishops of Lifege. 
 They appointed, as was then usual, ' Vooghts,' or Advocates, 
 who held under the bishops as feudal vassals, and who were 
 bound to watch over the interests of St. Rumold's church. 
 The vooghts of Mechlin, when we are first able to distinguish 
 them, were the heads of the great house of Berthout, the 
 most powerful family of all Brabant. But such Advocates, 
 wherever they existed, soon displayed a tendency to throw 
 off the feudal relations, and to establish themselves as inde- 
 pendent lords of the district. The Berthouts of Mechlin were 
 far too powerful not to succeed in this attempt"; and St. 
 Eumold himself assisted them. In 1267 the Bishop of Li^ge 
 swore by God and by St. Lambert that he would come into 
 the town in spite of all that the citizens and the men of 
 
 » There is an office for St. Rumold in the Aberdeen Breviary. 
 There David is made to rule in Berwick and Guallafer is bishop either 
 of Durham or of Dunblane (Dundensis —sive Dwnelanensis in Scotid). 
 
 25 
 
386 SKETCHES AND STUDIES FEOM BELGIUM. 
 
 Brabant could do to oppose him. He beset Mechlin with a 
 great army. But St. Rumold's shrine was carried round the 
 walls: there was a fierce battle, and the bishop was compelled 
 to withdraw ; only, for the sake of his oath, he was allowed 
 to enter, almost unattended, within the gates, and to lay his 
 mailed hand on the wall of the town. - The shield (paly, or, 
 and gules,) of the Berthouts still figures as that of Mechlin, 
 with the addition of the Austrian eagle, an especial grant of 
 the Emperor Maximilian. 
 
 How the Berthouts, now in fact independent lords of 
 Mechlin, struggled against the increasing power of the Dukes 
 of Brabant ; of Grimberghen and the Battle of the Cradle, 
 where the infant Duke, Godofried III., is said to have been 
 slung to the branches of a great oak tree, that his barons 
 might see for whom they were fighting ; and how at last 
 the Berthouts yielded, and the Bishops of Li^ge temporarily 
 resigned to the Dukes their rights over the district of Mech- 
 lin, — ^wUl be found duly recorded in the old chronicles of 
 Brabant. Meanwhile the town which had risen up about 
 the church and the shrine of St. B.umold steadily increased 
 in importance ; and by the beginning of the fourteenth cen- 
 tury it was able to compete in wealth and extent of commerce 
 with the neighbouring ' good towns' of Flanders and Brabant. 
 Like them, Mechlin had its wealthy Eastern merchants, who 
 received by way of Ghent and Bruges the dates and figs of 
 Portugal and Granada, leather from Cordova and Tunis, the 
 spiceries and coloured sugars of Alexandria, and silks and 
 cloth of gold from 'Herminie' and 'Thartarie,' mysterious 
 regions which the pious chapmen of Christendom crossed 
 themselves as they named. The Ambachten, or guilds of 
 trades, were now in full prosperity ; and their guild cham- 
 bers, each with its high distinguishing tower, rose every 
 here and there above the houses of the burghers. The 
 different trades that assembled in them showed themselves 
 
I. MECHLIN. 387 
 
 quite as ready as in other Flemish towns to use the sword 
 and the ffoeden dag, the spiked iron club that formed their 
 principal weapon ; so that Mechlinia belUcosa, the war- 
 like, figures nearly as often in the rhyming chronicles as 
 Mechlinia sancta in the histories of St. Rumold. The two 
 principal guilds were the weavers' and tanners' ; and of these 
 the goede linden, or patrician burghers, were members. These, 
 as at Brussels and Lou vain, were formed into Lignages 
 {geslaehten), of noble blood, with blazoned shields, and steens, 
 or towers of defence.* Between the Lignages and the work-' 
 men of the guilds there was the usual contest, ending at last, 
 as in the other towns, in the admission of these last to the 
 magistracy, in the direction of which the burgomaster was 
 supported by six echevins who were artizans, and six of 
 gentle blood. Other and great privileges were gradually 
 obtained by them. The tanners especially, who at last be- 
 came the most important of all (for Mechlin was early dis- 
 tinguished for the preparation of leather, and especially for 
 the stamped and gilded hangings that under the Spanish rule 
 
 * The ' Lignages ' of Brussels were seven in number : — The Bace of 
 the Lion, The Race of the Host (hospitis), The Sons of Hugh (called 
 also Clutings), The Hace of Sire Rodolf, They of the Coudenberg, 
 They of the Road, and They of the Red Stream. To one or other of 
 these belonged all the ' wel-geborne ' (divites, fortiores) of the town. 
 Each lignage had its shield of arms, and its steen, or tower, which 
 could be defended in case of need. They changed much in progress 
 of time ; whole families left one lignage for another, and many sank 
 into the class of artizans. The original composition cannot be traced ; 
 but although it has been supposed that the lignages of Brussels were 
 actually descended from so many seigneurs, who about a.d. 950 possessed 
 lands and serfs in the territory of the town, it is clear that no merely 
 local fact explains their rise, since similar lignages are found in many 
 Belgian and German cities (Henne et Wauters, Histovre de Bruxelles, 
 torn. i.). There was always much jealousy between these lignages of the 
 towns and the noblesse of the open country. In those cases where it was 
 necessary to prove an unblemished descent, as for admission to the 
 Order of the Golden Fleece, the patrician blood of the lignages was not 
 recognised (De ReifEenberg, Hist, de la Toison d'Or). 
 
388 SKETCHES AND STUDIES FEOM BELGIUM. 
 
 became so famous), enjoyed sundry especial liberties within 
 the town, and had also the right of chase throughout all the 
 lands of the seigneury, not excepting even red-deer and 
 sanglier, a privilege of most unusual distinction when none 
 but seigneurs et gentilhommes were free to let their arblast 
 bolts fly within the limits of the merry greenwood.* 
 
 We must not dwell upon the keures or charters granted 
 by the Dukes to the Stadt, although they illustrate a 
 somewhat obscure portion of mediaeval history, the rise of 
 the great towps and communes. Mechhn became more and 
 more important, notwithstanding that the Dukes of Brabant 
 and the Counts of Flanders (to whom the Bishops of Lifege 
 finally sold their rights) constantly disputed the possession 
 of the town agad its territory, and that it was exposed to 
 frequent attacks from either side until the two provinces 
 became united under the House of Burgundy. It had also 
 to undergo niore than one disaster by flood and by fire. In 
 .1342 half the town was burnt ; and, says Master CorneUus 
 Zandfliet, it was at once remarkable and edifying to observe 
 that the fire made curious leaps in its progress, especially 
 attacking and destroying the houses of certain lawyers, 
 usurers, and other wicked people. In spite, however, of 
 this judicious discrimination, it also destroyed the church 
 of St. Eumold, for no part of the present structure is of 
 earlier date. But the new church raised yet higher the 
 reputation of Mechlin and St. Rumold. Pilgrims came to 
 visit the shrine from every pairt of Christendom ; and broad 
 lands and gold crowns of Hainault and Flanders were freely 
 given to assist in restoring it. It had not long been com- 
 pleted, and the gigantic tower was slowly rising into the air, 
 when came the period of Mechlin's greatest glory, heralded, 
 as was fitting, by the hlyde inkomst, the joyeuse entrde of 
 Charles the Bold, the great Duke of Burgundy. 
 * Guicciardini, Description des Pays Bas. 
 
I. MECHLIN. 389 
 
 It was on the Srd of July, 1467, that the magistracy and 
 nobles of Mechlin, all on horseback, in black velvet (Philip 
 the Good had been dead only a few days), and with gold 
 chains round their necks, met the Duke Charles and his 
 train at Heffen, on the extreme limits of the seigneury. He 
 rode down to the gate of the town, between nine hundred 
 hdguines, each with the white Flemish faille on hei' head, and 
 each carrying a lighted waxen torch. Fifty-two trtimpeters, 
 stationed above the gate, when the Duke approached, ' blew,' 
 says the chronicle, 'a right lusty melody, so that men's 
 hearts were blythe to hear it.' The Pucelle of Mechlin, for 
 the town had never yet been taken by an enemy's force, then 
 opened her gates and admitted the Duke, who rode to the 
 Stadthouse through streets planted with fir trees, and strewed 
 with water-flags, adorned with triumphal arches and bannersj 
 and at intervals by the broad stages, roofed in with branches 
 of trees, of the Stadt's two Rhetorykkamrners, the Peony and 
 the Lily flower, who entertained the Duke as- he passed 
 with elaborate moralities, in which all the Cardinal Virtues 
 figured in company with Sir Hector of Troy and the Duke's 
 namesake, the Emperor Charles the Great.* Charles placed 
 himself and all his territories under the protection of St. 
 Kumold ; and no long time afterwards established in Mechlin 
 the Grooten Raed, or Grand Council ; a permanent cotirt of 
 appeal which was to overrule the decisions of the various 
 towns, counties, and duchies that made up the sum of the 
 Low Countries. It was held in what is now known as the 
 old schepenen^huis, a building with pierced turrets and crow^ 
 stepped gables, and a long low hall within it, the beams of 
 which are supported by quaintly carved brackets. Here, 
 seated on a high setel covered with cloth of gold, the Hertog 
 Karel, with his golden circlet about his head, was wont, 
 
 * David, Gescheidenis van de Stad en de Heerlykheid van Mechehn. 
 Leuven, 1854. 
 
390 SKETCHES AND STUDIES PEOM BELGIUM. 
 
 during his visits to Mechlin, to give free audience to all 
 coraers, every day after dinner, surrounded by all the pomp 
 and display of the most magnificent court in Europe. 
 
 But his fierce and ominous figure does not long look out 
 through the ' Egyptian darkness.' Mechlin had formed part 
 of the dowry of his third wife, Margaret of York ; and after 
 Charles had fallen at Nancy, the Lady Margaret entered 
 Mechlin in state, purposing to reside there for the rest of her 
 life. The Stadt gave her a silver-gilt water-back, with the 
 arms of the town engraven on it ; and the day after her 
 entry she witnessed the grand procession of St. Kumold from 
 Jan Behoof's house in the corn-market. The cordwainers 
 carried the torches about the shrine, and numerous pageants 
 followed it ; including a representation of the root of Jesse, 
 the great giant Hercules, and the young giant Goliath, the 
 Three Kings, and the Wheel of Fortune. The Duchess of 
 Clarence, daughter of the 'King-maker,' "Warwick, visited 
 Margaret in 1478, and was presented with a golden cross 
 by the Stadt ; and after Bosworth many English nobles of 
 the White Rose came to seek" the protection of her court. 
 It was in her palace at Mechlin that Margaret received 
 Perkin Warbeck, and gave him her private instructions 
 before despatching him on his expedition to England. But 
 she made a noble amend when she patronized and returned 
 to us Oaxton, whose Boke of Troye, the first volume printed 
 in EngUsh, was undertaken by her command.* Margaret 
 died in 1503, and was -buried in the church of the Celestine 
 Sisters, nearly opposite the cathedral. Her tomb remained 
 there until the Revolution, when it was broken to pieces, 
 
 * Caxton completed his translation at Cologne in 1471, where it was 
 most likely printed the following year. This is the book for which 
 £1060 was given at the far-famed Roxburghe sale. The French Troye, 
 printed by Caxton before 1467, is also the earliest printed book in 
 that language. The first book printed in England was Caxton's Game 
 of Chess, 1474. 
 
I. MECHLIN. 391 
 
 and the church itself became what it now is, the forage dep6t 
 for the adjoining barracks. 
 
 The name of Margaret of York, notwithstanding her stately- 
 life in the old Stadt, suggests few ideas of repose or pros- 
 perity. It is not so with the Margaret who comes after her 
 — the 'Marguerite des Marguerites' — aunt of Charles V., 
 and the representative of the Low Countries during one of 
 their most brilliant periods. The early life of the future 
 Emperor was almost entirely spent under her guardianship 
 at Mechlin. His father, Philip le Bel, had already been 
 protected there by Margaret of York, during the troubles 
 that followed the death of Mary of Burgundy. 
 
 When Charles was born at Ghent in 1499, the town of 
 Mechlin gave new clothing and new shoes to the ' Jongelinck' 
 who brought the good news, and set all her bells ringing for 
 joy. Soon afterwards, Philip, with the unhappy Princess 
 Joanna, his huysvrowe, visited Mechlin, with their children, 
 whom they placed under the care of the 'Vrowe' Margaret 
 of England. At her death in 1503 they were sent to the 
 Castle of Louvain, under the protection of the Sire de 
 Chifevres — ^that member of the illustrious house of Croye to 
 whose grands manikres Charles is said to have been indebted 
 for the gravity, repose, and dignity that so highly pleased 
 the Spaniards. Philip succeeded to the crown of Castile in 
 1505, and after his death at Burgos in the following year, 
 Charles and his sisters returned to Mechlin, to the palace of 
 Margaret of Austria — daughter of Mary of Burgundy and 
 widow of PhUibert of Savoy — the gente demoiselle to whom 
 the Emperor Maximilian had entrusted the care of the Low 
 Countries. The Stadt, to which the arrival of great princes 
 was always a costly matter, presented Charles, now six years 
 old, and the two princesses, with a Uttle earache of carved 
 wood, costing, together with the trappings for the horses, 
 ibur pounds eight shillings. In August of the following 
 
392 SKETCHES AND STUDIES FEOM BELGIUM. 
 
 year, a most solemn service for the repose of Philip le Bel, 
 lasting several days, was held in the church of St. Rumold. 
 The Bishop of Utrecht sang mass ; sixteen other bishops and 
 abbots stood round about the altar with mitre and crozier, 
 thirteen knights of the Golden Fleece were daily present, 
 and Charles himself sat in mourning robes on a throne near 
 the altar of the ' Kle^rmakers.' The church was hung with 
 black doth and satyn, having in the midst the great cata^ 
 falque, so tall that the top of it was passed through an 
 opening in the roof, with seven hundred torches burning 
 on it, and the king's banners and blazonings floating from 
 its sides. Half a century later, Charles's own funeral service 
 was performed in the same church ; but the great days of 
 Mechlin were then over. Philip II. preferred Brussels, and 
 his bishops and nobles were then assembled about his gloomy 
 figure in the stately choir of St. Gudule's. 
 
 Mechlin was the real capital, however, during those fifty 
 years. In 1508, the Emperor Maximilian arrived there in 
 state as the vooght or guardian of Charles, who received him 
 in a tent outside the gates ; and Maximilian, seated on a car 
 with a lofty throne, was then drawn into the town by a com- 
 pany of thirteen nobles. The Emperor especially insisted that 
 Charles should be taught the thyois or Flemish ;* and his 
 education had already been entrusted to Adrian Florisson, the 
 future Pope Adrian VI. Charles, however, seems to have loved 
 to fly his hawk along the banks of the Dyle, or to amuse him- 
 self with provoking some grand Numidian lion in his iron- 
 barred cage, far better than listening to the counsels of the 
 yearned Adrian. The Stadt too was unceasing in the banquets 
 and festivals which it oflered to the young Prince and his 
 sisters. On Ascension Day, 1510, a stag was hunted on the 
 market-place for their amusement, the whole area having been 
 
 * De Bieffenberg (notes to Barante) from F. J. Mone, ReeueUspowr 
 servi/r A I'Hist, de I'Allemagne, 
 
I. MECHLIN. 393 
 
 planted with fir trees. Charles saw it from the hostel of the 
 Swan ; and the Stadt gave him and the princesses a quaert of 
 B/henish, the usual vin d ' honneur on such occasions. The 
 ' Peony' also played divers games before the court, amongst 
 others that of the ' Roosketel,' a sort of water quintain, still 
 well known in Belgium as a jeu populaire. At other times 
 the noble ' lignages' of Mechlin held a solemn jousting on the 
 market-place before the Prince ; and in 1514 Charles cleft the 
 
 * vogel' — good old Lady Magaret Bellenden's ' popiojay' — at 
 the feast of the great guild of bowmen, and became their king. 
 
 * Vrowe Margarite,' his aunt, was herself no contemptible 
 Maid Marian, and had twice at Brussels struck off the 
 'vogel' from the top of the Sablon spire. 
 
 The processions of St. Rumold throughout this period were 
 conducted with the greatest splendour. That of 1516 was 
 witnessed by Charles, now King of Spain, together with the 
 Emperor Maximilian, the Dukes of Brunswick and Bavaria, 
 and numerous English nobles. Great were the banquetings 
 in the Swan, the Crane, the Bear, and the Lamb — costing the 
 Stadt not a little in spices, suykerkoehen, orange flowers, hip- 
 pocras, and Rhine wine ; and a grand passage of arms was 
 held, in which Charles himself took a part. The August of 
 the following year saw him sail from Zeeland for Spain. 
 There was a solemn mass sung for him in St. Rumold's on the 
 day of his departure ; and the Host was carried in procession 
 through the streets, Margaret of Austria herself following it. * 
 
 She remained in Mechlin ; and notwithstanding the absence 
 of Charles and of many Flemish nobles, the court of Margaret 
 was far from losing any of its brilliancy. During Charles's 
 minority all the threads of the tangled pohcy of Henry VIL, 
 the French Kings, the Pope, and the Emperor, had passed 
 
 * These notices of Charles are from Azevedo, Eene-Korte Kronycke 
 van Mechekn, a curious compilation from the old records of the town, 
 published at Louvaia towards the beginning of the last century. 
 
394 SKETCHES AND STUDIES FEOM BELGIUM. 
 
 through her hands. Mechlin -was the centre of all. And 
 afterwards her advice and counsels not only assisted the Em- 
 peror materially in all his relations with the North of Europe, 
 but she was mainly instrumental in bringing about the famous 
 Peace of Cambray in 1529, which gave a deadly blow to the 
 old commerce of Venice, and for a time added fresh impor- 
 tance to that of the Low Countries. Painters, poets, and 
 musicians from all parts of Europe crowded the halls of Mar- 
 garet's palace, hung with tapestries of gold and silk, powdered 
 with ' Marguerites,' and with her favourite device. Fortune Iri- 
 fortune Fort Vne, or representing histoires des grands person- 
 nages, from the designs of Bernard van Orley. There you may 
 recal her graceful figure, as more after the style of Mary of 
 Scotland than the ' high and disposed' dancing of her English 
 rival, she mingles with her court in the Joyeux de Bruxelles 
 or Les Filles a Marier ; or you may see her in robe of black 
 velvet, with long loose sleeves, furred with ermine, wan- 
 dering through the bosquets of her gardens, attended by her 
 greyhound, her marmot, and her parroquet — the amant vert of 
 Jean Lemaire, who had early entered the service of Margaret. 
 The parrot had been given to her mother, Mary of Bur- 
 gundy, by the Archduke Sigismund, and died during one of 
 Margaret's visits to Grermany.* Lemaire, on the Princess's 
 return, laid at her feet his Triomphe de l' Amant Vert ; in 
 which the parrot, after declaring that his mistress's absence 
 was insupportable, and that he was about to die of grief, en- 
 treats that he may be buried 
 
 en quelque lieu joly 
 
 Bien tapissS de diverse flourettes 
 Oil pastoureaux devisent d'amourettes, 
 Oil les oiseaux jargonnent et flageolent, 
 Oil papillons bien colouriez vollent, 
 Prfes d'un ruisseau, ayant I'onde argentine 
 Autour du quel les arbres font courtine. 
 
 * J. J. Altmeyer, Marguerite d'Autriche, sa Vie et sa Oour. 
 
I. MECHLIN. 395 
 
 To graceful verses like these Margaret many a time listened, 
 surrounded by visitors of greater name than Lemaire. Eras- 
 mus was at Mechlin in 1519, and the Stadt presented him 
 with four stoops of Rhenish, a gift no doubt sufficiently to his 
 liking. Albert Durer visited Margaret during his N etherland 
 journey, but had no great reason to be satisfied with his re- 
 ception ; for although ' Donna Margaretha' showed him her 
 own collection of pictures, she gave no sign of wishing to add 
 to it a single specimen of the great German artist, upon whom 
 Van Orley and the painters attached to her court looked with 
 no small jealousy. "It was not so with another, who at this 
 time had taken shelter under Margaret's protection, Ohristiern 
 II. of Denmark, whose wife was Isabella, sister of Charles 
 V. His stately presence was immortalized by Durer, and the 
 painter was nobly recompensed for his labours. Christiern 
 himself had too much of the scent of the ' fagot' about him, and 
 was far too well disposed to the new doctrines to be allowed to 
 remain long at the court of the orthodox Margaret. His resi- 
 dence was fixed accordingly at Lierre, where he caused 
 sufficient anxiety : but his children, both now and during 
 his long subsequent imprisonment in Denmark, were retained 
 at Mechhn.* 
 
 Margaret's death at Mechlin, in 1530, was felt severely by 
 the Emperor Charles. A most solemn service was performed 
 in St. Rumold's ; after which an oration in praise of the Arch- 
 duchess was pronounced by one whom she had more than once 
 protected in the course of his wandering life, Cornelius 
 Agrippa, the famous mystic. All the Belgian provinces — but 
 
 * See, for much curious detail relating to this period, Altmeyer, 
 Hist, des Relations Commercicdes des Pays Bos a/oec le Nord de I'Europe 
 pendcmt le XVI. Siicle. During his residence at Lierre, Chi-istiern 
 had the Bible translated into Danish, and printed at Antwerp. 
 Swollen, one of the Danish king's servants, after a public discussion 
 in 1529 with the doctors of Louvain, was seized by Margaret's orders, 
 nd burnt on the market-place at Mechlin. 
 
396 SKETCHES AND STUDIES FEOM BELGIUM. 
 
 especially the good town she had so long favoured — had in- 
 deed cause to regret her. Mechlin during her lifetime Lad 
 been infinitely improved j and there were few of the great 
 Flemish nobles who did not possess within its walls, palaces 
 whose high towers rose every here and there above their 
 stately terraced gardens. ' Les Malinois,' says Guicciardini, 
 whose Description des Pays Bas was written about this time, 
 ' estoient fort civils, accostables, et traictables ; sentans leur court, 
 laquelle y a risidi longtemps : ayans {outre ce que nature les 
 pousse a ceste naive courtoisie) une telle grace, gentillesse etfa^on 
 de faire, qu'il semble que toute leur vie ils aient frdquentd les 
 palais des princes.^ The streets too had shared in the im- 
 provement of the people. They had been cleansed and partly 
 paved ; and Mechlinia propria began to take her place by the 
 side of Mechlinia sancta and hellicosa. The wandering of pigs 
 through the streets was strictly forbidden ; ' except the Saints' 
 pigs, wont of old custom to go through them, St. Anthony's, 
 St. Hubert's, St. Cornelius's, St. Eumold's, St. James's, and 
 St. Eloy's ; one pig for each Saint.' * The trade of Mechlin in 
 ' schaarlaken,' t linen, and leather, was still enormous ; and it 
 had become so famous for its foundries of bells and cannon, 
 that in 1512 Papenreuther cast here for the King of England 
 twelve pieces of grosse artillerie, in ' honour of the twelve 
 Apostles.' The rock-like tower of St. Rumold's, too, ' Babel 
 Chretienne' as it has been called, had by this time risen to its 
 present height, partly by the aid of gifts from pilgrims and 
 nobles, and partly by the contributions of the town itself, 
 every one who frequented the fish market being compelled to 
 give the price of the finest single fish he brought there, 
 
 * Azevedo's Korte Kronyohe. 
 
 t Schaa/rlaken, 'clipped cloth,' the origin of our word sca/rlet, which 
 had at first nothing to do with the colour. The schaarlaken were the 
 finest cloths made, hence their reputation. There were ' white scar- 
 lets ' of Ghent, and 'green scarlets ' of Tpres ; and the -'red scarlette' 
 of our old ballads belongs to the same family. 
 
I. MECHLIN. 397 
 
 toward the completion of the work. The great bell ' Karel,' 
 whose deep voice is heard far and wide across the green low- 
 lands of Brabant, still declares through the old Flemish 
 rhymes inscribed on it that it was raised 'when the eagle 
 trod down the lily flowers' on the field of Pavia. There was 
 a mass and requiem sung in St. Rumold's for the repose of 
 all who fell in that great battle. 
 
 In 1540 Charles visited Mechlin for the first time as Em- 
 peror. He followed the procession of the F^te Dieu with an 
 enormous waxen torch in his hand, accompanied by the Grreat 
 Council and all the Echevins. It was a very hot day, and the 
 Emperor, already disabled by gout, stopped the procession be- 
 fore it had made half its usual round. Ten years later, Charles 
 took leave for ever of the good town in which the earliest por- 
 tion of his life had been spent. In the hall of the ' Grroeten 
 Raed,' where his namesake, Den Stoet- — ' The Bold' — had sat 
 crowned before him, he laid aside his' authority, and declared 
 his son Philip, who was also present, to be from henceforth 
 ' Heer van Mechelen.' 
 
 Philip's presence fell like a blight upon the tovm. It had 
 reached the height of its prosperity, and now a succession of 
 troubles came upon it one after another. The great Hostel 
 de la Munition, stored with powder and artillery, and with 
 all the appareil of war, was at Mechlin. It was blown up 
 during a terrific storm of thunder and lightning, and ond half 
 the town was destroyed in consequence. When the storm 
 broke out, says the legend, all the town and neighbourhood 
 hastened to ring their beUs. At Putte, one of the adjoining 
 villages, the MarguUlier tried to get to the steeple, but was 
 kept back by supernatural force. ' Are all the devils here ?' 
 he cried in despair ; and a voice came in reply from a tree- 
 top, ' No, no — the others are at Mechlin. I am alone here.' 
 Some time after a company of Friezeland merchants came into 
 Mechlin, and declared that, as they were travelling through 
 
398 SKETCHES AND STUDIES FEOM BELGIUM. 
 
 their own country on the night of the storm, they had heard 
 voices above in the air. One said, ' Crom-been' (twisted leg) 
 * carry off that mill.' ' I am going to Mechlin,' said Crom- 
 been. ' Kooi-t-steert ' (short-tail) ' will go down there, and 
 take care of the mill,' and the miU disappeared accordingly.* 
 The time was indeed approaching when 'the prince that 
 ruffles in that airy region' was to find work for his troops, not 
 in Mechlin alone, but throughout all the Low Countries. In 
 1561 Mechlin received her first archbishop in the person of 
 the famous Granvelle — ^the ' little good lord cardinal,' who, as 
 President of the Council at Brussels, had done his best to 
 hasten the troubles now close at hand. The town had hitherto 
 been under the spiritual rule of Cambray ; and the appoint- 
 ment of seventeen new bishoprics for the Netherlands, the 
 Archbishop of Mechlin being the primate, was a measure 
 which for many reasons was especially unpopular among the 
 nobles. Granvelle entered the town on horseback, in solemn 
 procession ; but not a single representative of the great 
 Flemish houses, or of the lignages of Mechlin, followed in his 
 train. He was received by the clergy alone ; and the remains 
 of his palace are still pointed out, near the church of St. 
 Peter, in which he is said to have fortified himself with iron 
 doors and heavy oaken bars against any sudden attack of the 
 people. Granvelle's presence, however, did not prevent ketters 
 and heretics of aU sorts from making their appearance at 
 Mechlin. Once or twice during the Kermis week there were 
 preachings on the road to Lierre, attended so numerously that 
 the placards which denounced the new doctrines were put 
 strictly into force, and many preachers and townsmen who 
 had lapsed into kettery were burnt and hung on trees about 
 Mechlin. One especially, Jan Boots, called the ' Spoonbill,' 
 
 * Bishop Hall, in his Invisible World, mentions as an instance of the 
 active agency of evil spirits, a great storm which in 1638 damaged the 
 Church of Widdecombe-in-the-Dartmoors, in Devonshire; and refers 
 in a note to this ' prodigious tempeste ' at Mechlin. 
 
I. MECHLIN. 399 
 
 was looked upon as so great a martyr, that half a century 
 later Lutherans used to come from all parts of Germany 
 to visit the spot in the market-place on which he had been 
 burnt, and to carry away particles of the earth as rehcs.* At 
 last came the deaths of Horn and Egmont, and the war broke 
 out in earnest. Steel jack and iron pike became more and 
 more frequent about Mechlin; and the warder on St. Ru- 
 mold's tower could watch the march of many a ruyter's com- 
 pany, as their harness glittered in the sun, along the network 
 of roads stretched out into the far distance, toward Antwerp, 
 or Brussels, or Louvain. There was a small party in Mechlin 
 who favoured the cause of William of Orange ; and when, in 
 1572, his troops had advanced as fer as Louvain, they found 
 the means of communicating with him, and of admitting him 
 into Mechlin. Le Grand Tacitume remained there some 
 days, to the exceeding cost and charges of the good town ; 
 and left a small body of troops to garrison it on his departure. 
 Mechlin was fearfully punished for this visit. Alva himself 
 appeared at its gates no long time after ; and although the 
 clergy of St. Eumold's went to meet him with cross and 
 banner, they could not at all succeed in altering his purpose. 
 ' Mechlin's Martyr' was unable or unwilling to protect the 
 town, as in the days when the English knight fought with 
 the rib in his shield ; and for three following days it was 
 given up tp the pillage of Alva's troops ; the Spaniards — 
 those famous musqueteros whose weapons, as old Brant&me 
 declares, ' dtmmh'ent fort les Flamands quand Us les sentirent 
 sonner a leurs oreilles' — ^having the precedence. They left so 
 little for the Scottish and German mercenaries who came 
 after, that even the doors and window-frames of the houses 
 were carried off and destroyed by the soldiery. Among the 
 two or three dwellings especially protected was that of Michael 
 Coxie, the painter, now of great age, and one of the boasts of 
 
 * Azevedo. 
 
400 SKETCHES AND STUDIES FEOM BELGIUM. 
 
 Mechlin. His works, and particularly a copy of Van Eyck's 
 ' Mystic Lamb ' at Grhent, which remained in the Escurial 
 until the wars of Napoleon, had greatly pleased Phihp II., 
 and an order had consequently been issued that all honour 
 should be rendered to Ooxie.* A school of painters had 
 arisen in Mechlin before the troubles, who worked in dis- 
 temper on the large canvasses then beginning to be used in 
 the place of tapestries. Of these, Jan Bol, and Lucas and 
 Martin Valkenborg were the principal. They did not escape 
 so happily as Coxie, and Jan Bol fled Hterally naked to 
 Antwerp. Another, and one whose name is perhaps more 
 widely Imown, was scarcely less unfortunate. This was Dodoens 
 or Dodonaeus, the botanist, whose studies had for many long 
 years been followed among the broad meadows, the woods, 
 and the wastes of heather that at this time surrounded 
 Mechhn.-f- He lost everything, and after Alva's departure 
 took his melancholy way to Cologne, where he remained for 
 some years in the service of the Emperor. The wealthiest 
 burghers of Mechlin, not to mention the workmen of the 
 guilds, were thus reduced to the utmost distress, and almost 
 deprived of shelter. Many perished during the winter, as all 
 must have done had it not been for the assistance supplied to 
 them by the towns of Antwerp and Brussels. The ' Spanish 
 fury,' as Alva's plunder of Mechlin was afterwards called, 
 excited so much horror among all parties, that it was one of 
 
 * Ooxie had at this time two large palaces at Mechlin. He had re- 
 turned from Italy with great wealth, and had since been in the highest 
 favour with both Spaniards and Flemings. His best picture now to 
 be seen in his native town is the 'Circumcision,' in the cathedral of 
 St. Rumold. 
 
 f Dodonseus was the first to describe botanically the ' TJlex Euro- 
 pseus ' — the golden furze before which Linnseus fell down in admiration. 
 A good figure of the old botanist, with ruff and long beard, has been , 
 placed in the conservatory of the public gardens at Mechlin, where it 
 looks out appropriately from between the broad leaves of the bananas 
 and tropical creepers by which it is shaded. 
 
I. MECHLIN. 401 
 
 the principal causes which led to his recal in the following 
 year. 
 
 But Alva's return to Spain did not secure tranquillity to 
 Mechlin. Among the many changes and chances of the war, 
 the town passed again into the hands of the Orangists, and 
 her greatest pride, the superb shrine of St. Rumold, covered 
 with gold and jewels, was broken up and sent to Antwerp 
 to assist in defraying the cost of new fortifications. The 
 rehcs of the martyr, including his skuU, with the mark of the 
 assassin's knife still visible on it, were scattered over the floor 
 of the church, from which they were collected by two children, 
 who stole into the building at nightfall after the soldiers had 
 left it. Afterwards, Don Juan, the victor of Lepanto, was 
 received into the town, and Mechlin was once more reconciled 
 to Philip, when in 1580 came upon it what is known as the 
 ' English fury ' — the taking of Mechlin by Sir John Norris, 
 not the least distinguished of Elizabeth's captains, and leader 
 of the company of English volunteers at this time in the pay 
 of the States. The town had been slowly recovering from 
 the plunder of Alva, when it had to undergo this second 
 calamity. A vigorous defence was made in the streets, 
 and many Franciscan and Carmelite monks were killed, pike 
 in hand, by the English soldiery. Among them was brother 
 Lupus, called the 'Wolf of Mechlin,' whose exertions, 
 together with those of his colleague, Lucius, the ' Light of 
 Brussels,' had long been indefatigable against the cause of 
 the Orangists. Spite of all, however, the town was taken ; 
 and Norris remained in it for some time, during which his 
 troops ransacked it to the utmost. The bells and ironwork 
 of the churches and religious houses were broken up and 
 melted ; and, according to the historian "Van Meteren, 
 hundreds of monumental brasses were taken from the church 
 pavements, and sent off to England. During the whole of 
 those terrible wars, say the local chronicles, not a single 
 
 26 
 
402 SKETCHES AND STUDIES FEOM BELGIUM. 
 
 town throughotit the Low Countries suffered so greatly as 
 MecHin. 
 
 The town never recovered its former importance. Albert 
 and Isabella were received within it in great state ; and 
 during the whole of the next century it was busied in rebuilding 
 its fallen houses, and repairing its many losses — witness the 
 numerous buildings of this date which lift their quaint gables 
 everywhere along its streets. A new silver-gilt shrine, which 
 it takes eighteen men to carry, was made for the relics of St. 
 Rumold ; Rubens decorated the Church of St. John with the 
 magnificent ' Adoration of the Kings,' and the chapel of the 
 Fishmongers' guild in N6tre Dame with the well-known 
 ' Miraculous Draught ; ' and Payd'herbe, his pupil, built a 
 new church for the Beguines, and sculptured many excellent 
 figures for St. Rumold's. But it was no longer the stately 
 Mechlin of the days of Margaret of Austria. It heard the 
 later Flemish wars, but only at a distance. Marlborough 
 passed through it without resistance, and our armies no doubt 
 swore as terribly in Mechlin as they did elsewhere. After 
 the battle of Fontenoy, Louis XV. honoured the town vdth a 
 visit, and as the sun was setting ascended to the top of St. 
 Rumold's tower ; Sole sub oociduo sol alter exoritur, says the 
 inscription which still records the great event. Mechlin, too, 
 added another title to the sancta, hellicosa, and propria, by 
 which she had so far been distinguished. 
 
 Lovanium doctis, — ^gaudet Mechlinia stultis, 
 
 runs the old Latin verse ; and Mechlinia stulta, zotte Mechelen, 
 was so called because once, when the moon was shining 
 brightly on St. Rumold's tower, the people mistook it for a 
 fire, and hastened with their buckets to put it out. This 
 maaribluscherey, ' moon-quenching' is to be spoken gently of 
 in Mechlin.* 
 
 * On one occasion, when a company of players from Brussels were 
 
I. MECHLIN. 403 
 
 Such is the story of the old town : no uneventful one over 
 which to dream as you wander beside the full, silent-flowing 
 stream of the Dyle, with its yellow flags and broad-leaved 
 water lilies, such as HemHng or Van Eyck loved to paint, 
 whilst the towers and spires of its many churches rise up 
 against the golden flush of the sunset ; or later, within the 
 aisles of St. Rumold's, when the glimmer from the tall 
 windows ' teaches light to counterfeit a gloom,' and the ray of 
 a solitary lamp falls along the pavement from some distant 
 chapel, or touches the great silver shrine in which the relics 
 of the patron saint repose above the high altar. Then, as the 
 solemn notes of the organ float through the vaulted roofs, the 
 long procession of plumed and scarlet mantled Knights of 
 the Fleece, the plumed figures of Charles of Burgundy, of his 
 namesake the great Emperor, or of Philip, the ' murderer of 
 Spain,' rise once more ' in their habits as they lived,' with all 
 the eventful story of their stormy days. Mechlin is no longer 
 in the midst of the stir and bustle of the world, and her streets 
 are quiet enough now, except on the rare occasions when 
 some old-fashioned Flemish ' cavalcade,' or rarer still, the 
 great jubilee of St. Rumold, recal the glories of her former 
 state. But she has memories and relics for which many a 
 more flourishing town might envy her, and Mechlinia propria 
 still holds not the least interesting place among the historical 
 cities of Belgium. 
 
 about to perform at Mechlin, it unfortunately happened that the first 
 scene of their play represented a cottage, on the walls of which a 
 broad theatrical moon 'shone with a good grace.' The people of 
 Mechlin declared themselves gravely insulted ; there was a consider- 
 able disturbance, during which the benches and ornaments of the 
 theatre were destroyed, and the next day the burgomaster insisted on 
 the players leaving the town. 
 
SKETCHES MD STUDIES FEOM BELGIUM. 
 
 II. LOUVAIN, 
 
 rr^HE origin of Louvain was very different from that of 
 -*- Mechlin. The kernel from which it sprang was the 
 ' Cfflsar's Castle/ the few remains of which stretch along the 
 crest of the hill OTerhanging the town, There, as you look 
 out between the clusters of lilac and apple-blossom, the fine 
 old city lies spread out like a map at your feet, just as in the 
 Brabantia sacra of worthy Master Sanderus. The graceful 
 spire of St. Gertrude's, built, says tradition, by the dwarfs, 
 or kaboutermannehens ; the darker mass of St. Peter's, and 
 the famous Hdtel de Ville, with its gilded vanes and turrets 
 and lucames, together with the spires and towers of number- 
 less smaller churches, rise like landmarks in the midst of the 
 network of narrow winding streets ; whilst the sloping green 
 hills by which the walls are surrounded contrast pleasantly 
 with the ordinary Belgian plat-pays. These hills are the 
 first rising ground met with in approaching the interior of 
 the country from the sea, and it was among them that the 
 Northmen, towards the end of the ninth century, formed one 
 of their central stations, into which they gathered all the 
 plunder of the surrounding districts. They wintered here for 
 many succeeding years j and the station at last became so 
 important that it was attacked and taken, in 895, by the 
 Emperor Arnulph of Bavaria, who expelled the Northmen, and 
 thus freed the country from their ravages. The day on which 
 
II. LOUVAIN. 405 
 
 this victory was gained, in the beginning of September, 
 is recorded by the annalist of Fulda, and it is still commemo- 
 rated in the kermesse and ommegancf, or annual procession 
 of Louvain. 
 
 On the hill (Loo-ven, the rising in the midst of the 
 marshes) where the Northmen had fixed their stronghold, 
 Arnnlph erected the Caesar's Castle, as a protection against 
 all future invaders. The Ohatelains of this frontier ' strength ' 
 became the first Dukes of Louvain, and afterwards of 
 Brabant. ' Loven to ^t ryk hertzog ! ' ' Louvain au riche Duo ! ' 
 long continued their war-cry, and the city soon began to 
 spread itself out in the broad valley at the foot of the for- 
 tress. It had, like the other towns, its patrician geschlacten, 
 or lignages, the absolute owners of their property, having the 
 right of private war, and serving as chiefs of the Duke's 
 army when an expedition was on foot, and the banner of 
 Louvain, placed on a car drawn by four oxen, called the 
 burghers about it in the market-place. At Louvain, as at 
 Brussels and Augsburg, these lignages were seven in number. 
 Charles the Grreat, whose mighty name shadows so much 
 tradition, was their ancestor according to one genealogy ; 
 another declares that they sprang from the seven sons of a 
 certain Bastinus the Tall, who assisted the Emperor Arnulph 
 in expelling the Northmen. Notwithstanding the blazons and 
 fortified towers of the lignages, the customary law of Louvain 
 provided that every member on certain occasions should con- 
 tribute his piece of cloth to the general market. Each in 
 fact belonged to a metier ; and hence the name of Wollezaks, 
 sacs de laine, by which they were known among the feudal 
 chiefs of Brabant. The wealth and luxury of Louvain soon 
 became as widely renowned as its cloth, for the wollezaks 
 were not less addicted to the ' comforts o' the saut market ' 
 than their brother burghers of Brussels, who went to battle, 
 as Froissart tells us, with their varlets behind them, carrying 
 
406 SKETCHES AND STUDIES FBOM BELGIUM. 
 
 ' bouteilles de vin troussdes h leurs seller, et pastez de sau- 
 mon, de truites, et dJanguilles envelloppie» de belles petitea 
 touailles.' The wollezaks, however, both of Brussels and 
 Louvain, could fight as well as feast ; and fierce .was the 
 struggle between them and the workmen of the guilds as 
 these last increased in numbers and importance. At the end 
 of the twelfth century the entire population did not exceed 
 six thousand ; in 1331 it was at least forty-five thousand, and 
 the cloth of Louvain had become famous all over Europe. 
 At this time Couthereel, himself a member of the lignages, 
 gained for the workmen, although not without great diffi- 
 culty, the right of joining in the administration of the 
 town, a privilege which was nearly at the same time claimed 
 and obtained by them throughout all the ' good towns ' of 
 Flanders and Brabant. Fresh troubles however broke out 
 immediately after the death of Couthereel, during which 
 thirteen members of the patrician lignages were killed in 
 the Stadt-house, and their bodies thrown from the windows 
 on the pikes of the people below. The Duke visited the 
 town with severe punishment. Many fled to England ; and 
 great numbers of the workmen, together with others who, 
 for similar reasons, had been expelled from Brussels and 
 Mechlin, took refuge in the great woods with which the face 
 of the country was then covered, and received accordingly 
 the name of the sangliers of Louvain. Wherever they were 
 found, the people were compelled to sound the tocsin, and 
 to hunt them to death j and such was the general dread of 
 them that a reward of 200 gold pieces was set by the Duke 
 on the head of a sanglier* 
 
 Thus Louvain, which had been one of the wealthiest towns 
 
 of Brabant, became impoverished and almost depopulated. 
 
 But its best days were yet to come. It is not the wollezaks, 
 
 or the trade guilds, or the sangliers, of whom the stranger 
 
 * Plot, Histovre de Louvam. 
 
n. LouvAiN. 407 
 
 thinks as lie passes through the narrow streets. His 
 pilgrimage will be to the remains that tell of the famous old 
 university where, surrounded by solemn portraits and brazen- 
 clasped folios, he may recal the days when grave doctors, 
 furred and violet-hooded, swept by along the shining oaken 
 floors ; and learning, or what passed for it, was in reality 
 a 'power.' It was in fact the misfortunes of Louvain that 
 led to its being fixed upon as the place for the establishment 
 of an university. Up to this time the youth of all the Low 
 Countries had been compelled to resort to Paris, where the 
 number of students was enormous ; more it had even been 
 said than that of the citizens themselves. There were many 
 disadvantages resulting from this withdrawal of students 
 from their own country ; and accordingly in 1425 the 
 Duke of Brabant, John IV., determined to erect an uni- 
 versity within the limits of his own dominions. Brussels 
 was at first proposed ; but the good burghers, recollecting 
 perhaps the disorders among the 'nations' of Paris, pro- 
 tested against the introduction of so many students within the 
 walls of their town, not in itself the most quiet place in the 
 world.* Louvain was then fixed upon. The site was plea- 
 sant, and the town required some assistance after its recent 
 troubles ; and the bull of Pope Martin V. was issued accord- 
 ingly. For at that time an university could not be created with- 
 out the intervention of the highest ecclesiastical authority; and 
 Louvain wasone, and by far the most renowned, of twenty which 
 were confirmed by the popes in the course of the fifteenth 
 century. There was the more need for the erection of a new 
 place of study, that the University of Prague had recently 
 been extinguished. The Cardinal Brandon de Castillon had 
 come into Brabant in 1421 to preach the crusade against the 
 Hussites, and the Emperor Sigismund was at this very time 
 
 * De Rieflfenberg, Premier MSmoire sv/r les deux premiers siicles de 
 I'UmverdU de Louvam, MSm. de VAcodkrm dk Brmxllea, t. v. 
 
408 SKETCHES AND STUDIES PEOM BELGIUM. 
 
 laying siege to Prague. Louvain was therefore looked to in 
 order to supply its place, and as a fresh * propugnaculum ' for 
 the defence of the endangered faith. 
 
 Great was the ceremony and splendour with which the 
 opening of the new university was celebrated. It took place 
 on the vigil of the Virgin's nativity, 1425 — so that, accord- 
 ing to the remark of Vemuleius, its historian, * the university 
 grew with the growth of the blessed Virgin herself. Duke 
 John was present at the opening, together with all the abbots 
 and nobles of Brabant. The constitution was framed on 
 those of Paris, Vienna, and Cologne : the form of govern- 
 ment, says Vernuleius, being the tempered monarchy of 
 Aristotle^a rector magmjicus and a senatus academicus, 
 selected from the five faculties, who in their turn ruled the 
 rector. The privileges of an university at this period were 
 very extensive. It was everywhere freed from the civil 
 power,- and formed in fact an imperium in imperio. Thus 
 at Louvain the Duke of Brabant solemnly resigned his 
 authority into the hands of the rector ; and his example was 
 followed by the burgomaster and echevins of the town. The 
 rector accordingly, as far as the university was concerned, 
 ruled supreme ; he had his prison, with the power of life and 
 death, ' although,' says the historian of the university, ' he 
 struck rarely with the sword, punishing usually by fines, or 
 in some other manner fitted for the discipline of youth.' 
 More than once the burgomaster of Louvain, having infringed 
 on some of these high privileges, was compelled to kneel at 
 the rector's feet in his shirt, with a waxen torch in his hand, 
 and pray forgiveness. Even Charles V., when. King and 
 Emperor, he visited Louvain in 1545, gave place to "the 
 rector. The bedells, vdth their silver and gold sceptra, says 
 Vernuleius, added greatly to the rector's splendour ; whilst 
 the red or violet paludamentum, with its lining of ermine, 
 * Academia Lovcmiends, 1627. 
 
n. LouvAiN. 409 
 
 ttiat hung from his shoulder, was a mark of princely dignity. 
 Like a Roman dictator's, the oiSce of rector lasted only six 
 months, at first indeed only three, and the election was 
 decided by five doctors of the university, one from each 
 faculty. The university was freed from all taxes and sub- 
 sidies ; and its books could not be taken in pledge. Besides 
 the doctors and students, the printers and booksellers were 
 members of it, and enjoyed its privileges ; as were the men 
 and maid servants of its ofiicers, and the widows of doctors 
 and licentiates, so long as they remained unmarried, and did 
 not work for their living. 
 
 The university began at once to flourish. Up to this time 
 Paris had been the great centre of attraction. Now the 
 youth of all the neighbouring countries began to flock to 
 Louvain. 'In this pleasant garden,' says the poetical 
 Vernuleius, ' flourish, and spite of all opposition will continue 
 to flourish, the true purple violets of theology, the white lilies 
 of canon law, and those others, dew-spotted, of civil. Here 
 are the red and blushing roses of the leeches, and the dusky 
 hyacinths of mathematical science. As to the sunflower of 
 philosophy, it grows so tall nowhere else.' The old Stadt- 
 house, from the windows of which the members of the lignages 
 had been thrown, was at first offered to the university, but 
 the trace of blood on its floors was thought of evil omen ; and 
 accordingly Den Rosen Hoet, ' The Rose Crown,' a house on 
 the market-place, was purchased by the town, and became 
 the scene of the earliest teaching of the new professors, 
 who were chosen from the most famous existing universities, 
 including Pavia and Bologna, and to whom the town pre- 
 sented as an honorarium sundry great mesures of Rhine 
 wine and Vin de Beaune; a watering from which their 
 respective roses and lilies no doubt greatly profited.* 
 
 Louvain was one of the first universities in which the 
 * De Rieffenberg, Premner Mimowe. 
 
410 SKETCHES AND STUDIES FEOM BELGIUM. 
 
 wliole circle of the sciences received equal attention. Paris 
 was almost entirely theological, civil law was the especial 
 study of Bologna, and medicine of MontpeHier and Salerno ; 
 but at Louvain there was a studium generale, although the 
 violets of theology did not appear there until six years after 
 the establishment of the other faculties of law, medicine, and 
 arts. But after Pope Eugenius IV. had bestowed this crown- 
 ing grace on the. new university, the purple biretum or cap, 
 with its border of green or laurel-coloured silk, worn by the 
 theological doctors, soon came to dominate over all the others. 
 A ' Doctor of Louvain ' was a personage of no small dignity. 
 When the candidate, after attaining to this honour, revisited 
 his native town, he was received by his fellow-citizens with 
 solemn festival and procession, some portion of his celebrity 
 being reflected back on them. At Louvain itself, which 
 imitated Paris, the doctor was created with infinite ceremony. 
 The day before his reception he rode through the town, pre- 
 ceded by trumpeters, bedells, and professors, and followed by 
 all the students of his ' faculty,' wearing his chosen colours as 
 scarfs and top-knots. He scattered gifts and money about 
 him as be rode along, provided generally by his native town, 
 which was always required to assist on this occasion. The 
 next day he appeared in the public auditorium. If he was to 
 be a Doctor of Laws — by which 'faculty' all these ceremonies 
 were principally observed — ^he was presented first with a 
 closed volume, implying that he must keep the dogmas of the 
 law in his heart. Next with an open one — when need is, he 
 must unfold them. Then the cap was put on — ^green in 
 colour, expressing the ever-flourishing glory of learning — 
 and tall, in token of the aspiration of the candidate toward 
 the eternity of his own reputation. Then the ring was 
 placed on his finger — ^he was wedded to the law. Then the 
 red gown — a sign of glowing love toward God and man — an 
 emblem considerably neglected by the grens de robe of more 
 
II. LOUVAIN. 411 
 
 recent times. Then the gold chain — he was to be always 
 girded for action ; and finally aU the old Doctors received 
 with a kiss of peace the new one, who distributed presents of 
 caps and gloves among the numerous assembly. The Doctor 
 in Theology had to undergo an additional trial. The evening 
 before his reception, the candidate appeared in the hall of 
 Theology among his future brethren, whose wit was then let 
 loose upon him without restraint. All the events of his past 
 life were carefully dug up : and whatever there might be 
 about him ridiculous in manners or in gesture was exposed 
 for the edification of the audience. While thus acting vice 
 cotis to these mediaeval Punches, the candidate was by no 
 means to exhibit any signs of discomfort or indignation. 
 The whole affair, like the slave in the conqueror's chariot, 
 was to serve as a trial of his patience and an exercise of his 
 humility. 
 
 The mass of the university students were of course Alumni 
 of the Faculty of Arts, the stepping-stone to all the others. 
 The veneranda facultas artium led the way by the study of 
 the trivium and quadrivium, the seven sciences answering to 
 the seven celestial spheres, which the ' universal doctor,' Alan 
 de Insulis, depicts as endowing man at his birth after the 
 fashion of seven powerful fairies. Grammar offered him 
 Donatus, and Logic Boethius ; Ehetoric presented Cicero, 
 and Arithmetic Pythagoras ; Music held the chromatic scale 
 of Milesion ; Geometry conducted Euclid ; and Astronomy 
 pointed to Albumazar. From the scholoe triviales, the lesser 
 schools, in which the initiatory triviimi was studied, speedily 
 arose the four great colleges or Poedagogia of Louvain, under 
 whose wings all the youthful alumni were carefully sheltered. 
 These were the Lily, the Pig (Porcus), the Castle, and the 
 Falcon. 'A most pleasant fragrance,' says the learned 
 Vernuleius, did this Lily diffuse throughout the land.' The 
 Pig, an unhappy name for a theological college, could point 
 
412 SKETCHES AHD STUDIES FBOM BELGIUM. 
 
 to one pope, Adrian VI., and to sundry bishops and arch- 
 bishops. From the Castle ' emerged many illustrious warriors 
 for the defence of the right j ' and as to the Falcon, ' omnia 
 supervolitat, ' its lofty turret soared high into the air above 
 all the buildings in its quarter. The watch kept over the 
 students within these colleges was far stricter than at Paris, 
 and their general routine of life reads amusingly enough when 
 contrasted with that of the Lilies and Falcons of modern 
 Oxford and Cambridge. The alumni could not leave their 
 colleges except with the permission of one of the rectors. 
 Moderators went round the building at different hours of 
 the day and night ; and the vernacular was on no account to 
 be spoken at any time — an excellent method, as Erasmus 
 afterwards pointed out, for preventing the attainment of any- 
 thing like pure Latinity. When the students did leave the 
 college walls, they were carefully to abstain from dancing in 
 the public streets ; they were not to take apples invitis 
 possessoribus — ^without the consent of their owners ; and 
 especially they must not assist thieves or robbers, if at any 
 time they should be so unlucky as to fall in with them. 
 
 The early teaching in these colleges, and in the university 
 in general, was precisely that of Paris and Oxford at this 
 period, and did not tend greatly to edification ; and when 
 toward the end of the century true learning began to point 
 her lances against the strong places of the ' giant Ignorance,' 
 Louvain, like the French and English universities, took 
 fright at the prospect, and opposed the new order of things 
 to the utmost of her power. 'The better grammarian you 
 become,' said the happily-named Doctor Dullaert to Yives 
 the Valentian, afterwards the tutor of our Queen Mary, ' the 
 worse logician and theologian you will be.' The books which 
 served for the instruction of the youth of Louvain were 
 precisely those which Rabelais has placed in the library of 
 St. Victor, and over which Gargantua • himself toiled in his 
 
II. LOUVAIN. 413 
 
 early days. ' " Floreta " and " Roseta," they were called,' says 
 Erasmus, ' but when you came to look into the heart of 
 them, you found nothing but thorns and thistles.' The 
 students themselves held them in no great respect, and when 
 a bonfire of the works of Luther was lighted up on the 
 market-place of Louvain, the fresh fuel with which they 
 came hastening to the flames was not always exactly what 
 was expected. One contributed the Sermones Discipuli, 
 another the Tartaretum, another the Dormi Secure, and a 
 fourth the Paratum, all Gargantuan compilations, for the 
 absence of which they must have been made to sufier severely 
 enough the next day.* In fact, Paris, although far from 
 being on an equaHty in point of learning with the universities 
 of Italy, was at this time, under the encouragement of 
 Francis I., less unfavourably disposed to innovation than 
 Louvain. 'One would have thought,' says Erasmus, 'that 
 Nessenus wished to set the town on fire, when in 1519 he 
 requested permission of the university to lecture publicly on 
 Pomponius Mela ; ' and when, two years later, Vives of 
 Valentia desired to explain the Somnium Scipionis, the rector 
 and his assessors referred him to the faculty which had 
 expressly to do with the ' interpretation of dreams,' a matter 
 gravely handled by the philosophers of those days, who trod 
 in the steps of the sage Albumazar. 
 
 The theologians of Louvain in the time of Erasmus were, 
 he teUs us, less bigoted than those of Paris. f They, were 
 perhaps more independent, for when Henry YIII. applied to 
 
 * De Eieffenberg, D&uxikne MSmoire »u/r les deux premiers siicles de 
 LowoaAn. MSm. de I'Acad., t. vi. 
 
 + ' Theologos Jjovanienses oandidos et humanos experior. . . . Non 
 est hie minus eruditionis theologicse quam Parisiis ; sed minus 
 sophistices minusque supercilii.' — Op. Erasmi, iii. p. 666. Passages 
 however of a very different tendency might easily be extracted from the 
 letters of Erasmus ; and it is clear that he praised or dispraised the 
 theologians of Louvain according to the feelings or the quarrels of the 
 moment, 
 
414 SKETCHES AND STUDIES PEOM BELGIUM. 
 
 the different foreign universities to confirm the illegality of 
 his marriage with Catharine of Arragon, he did not venture 
 to send his commissioners to Louvain, knowing, says Vernu- 
 leius, ' that its learned doctors were not to be corrupted by 
 gold or silver, as was the case elsewhere.' But Louvain 
 from the beginning was fiercely ultramontane. Atx Sapien- 
 ticB, Bellarmine called it ; and the heretical Lutherans made 
 answer by declariag that its theological school was Vaccultas, 
 a calves' house, and no facultas. Their terror at the approach 
 of grammars and lexicons was extreme. Grreek, which had 
 been hitherto almost unknown in the Netherlands, was first 
 introduced at Louvain in 1465, by Agricola of Deventer, 
 who had studied at Ferrara, under Theodore Gaza. He was 
 among the first to ' flutter the Volsces ' of Louvain with the 
 signs of a coming change, and his teaching was opposed 
 accordingly. But, magna est Veritas. The stir of human 
 intellect which had slowly spread northward from the halls 
 of the Medici, might indeed be checked for awhile, but could 
 not be altogether stifled. The new invention of printing soon 
 followed in the train of Grreek. John of Westphalia — the 
 first Magister artis impressorios, a title duly conferred by the 
 university — who settled at Louvain, commenced his labours 
 there in 1474, and published more than one hundred books 
 before the end of the century. 
 
 Erasmus first visited Louvain in 1502. By this time con- 
 sidergjDle progress had been made by the advancing party, 
 and the town itself displayed evident proof of the advantages 
 derived from the foundation of the university. Many 
 smaller colleges had been built and endowed, with their 
 gardens and orchards, wherein, says Erasmus, the learned 
 were wont to congregate of an afternoon ia sunny weather. 
 His own especial favourites — black friars and white, red 
 friars and grey — the seraphic Franciscans and the cherubic 
 Dominicans — enjoyed stately buildings and convents in 
 
n. LouvAiN. 415 
 
 different parts of the town, most of which had been placed 
 in connexion with the university. The new Stadt-house, 
 with all its quaint carvings from Old Testament history, 
 had been erected dose under the shadow of the great church 
 of St; Peter. Salamanca, says Groropius Becanus, exceeded 
 Louvain in magnificence of buildings, but yielded to it in 
 position and in the beauty of its site. Nusquam studetur 
 quietius, writes Erasmus to one of his friends whom he was 
 persuading to establish himself at Louvain. ' Nowhere is 
 there a more ample or a more accomplished company of 
 professors, the number of students is greater than in any 
 other university, with the exception of Paris, and as for 
 the climate, it is in many respects preferable to that of 
 Italy.' But his friend Vives preferred Bruges, where there 
 was excellent fish, which was somewhat difficult to be pro- 
 cured at Louvain, although he willingly rendered justice to 
 one of its great glories — ^its ' pale straw-coloured beer ' — 
 flava ista Lovaniensis — ^the veritable * Peetermans,' over which 
 St. Arnold, patron of the brewers, continues to preside 
 with undiminished watchfulness. Erasmus himself remained 
 for many years at Louvain, where he accomplished not a 
 little toward the destruction of the old systems and the real 
 advancement of learning. He was mainly instrumental in 
 bringing about the establishment of the college Trium lAn- 
 guafum, for the especial study of Greek, Latin, and Hebrew, 
 with which last Erasmus himself was unacquainted. The 
 Eastern languages, however, were beginning to attract 
 considerable attention. Hebrew had been cultivated in the 
 Franciscan monasteries of BMe and Tubingen before the 
 last century had closed ; and the first grammar was pub- 
 lished by Conrad Pellican in 1503.* The TrcAs Langues 
 at Louvain was founded in 1517 by the Canon Jerome 
 Busleiden, under the direction of his friend Erasmus. That 
 * Hallam, Literature of Europe, i. ch. iv. 
 
416 SKETCHES AND STUDIES PBOM BELGIUM. 
 
 its foundation was violently opposed need hardly be men- 
 tioned ; but Busleiden was supported not only by Erasmus, 
 but by Martin Dorpius, a person of considerable influence, 
 who had already urged the foundation of a Hebrew chair, 
 and who was one of the very few who actively encouraged 
 the study of the Greek and Latin languages, in which he 
 was himself more than commonly proficient.* He had also 
 the more powerful protection of Adrian Florissone, after- 
 wards Pope Adrian VI., and at this time Professor of 
 Theology at Louvain. In spite of all opposition, therefore, 
 the college was founded, and it served as a model for the 
 similar foundations of Francis I. at Paris, of Bishop Fox at 
 Oxford, and of Cardinal Ximenes at Alcala. From this time 
 the study of Hebrew continued to flourish at Louvain, and 
 the college was of considerable assistance to Arias Montanus 
 when, under the direction of Philip II., he was completing 
 his famous Polyglot, afterwards printed at Antwerp. One of 
 the three copies on vellum was presented by Philip to the 
 university Kbrary of Louvain. 
 
 The study of Arabic began somewhat later. There were 
 literally no helps for those who first imdertook it ; and 
 Clynaerts (Clenardus), whose Greek grammar was long the 
 only one in use throughout the schools of France and Bel- 
 gium, taught himself the language by a process little less 
 laborious than that by which modem scholars have been 
 deciphering the arrow-headed characters of Nineveh and 
 Persepolis. All these innovations must have been severe 
 shocks to the old-fashioned party, who regarded them as 
 so many steps on the road to heresy. The presence of 
 Erasmus had been a continual irritation. They had found 
 
 * HaUam does injustioe to Dorpius when he says, {Bist. of Lit. 
 vol. L chap, iv.) that he 'seems to have been a sworn vassal of the 
 giant Ignorance.' Erasmus has himself left us a very favourable 
 portrait of him. For his assistance in founding the Trois Langues, 
 see De Eieflfenberg, Qitatrikne Memovre, Mem. de VAccMmie, t. vi. 
 
II. LOUVAIN, 417 
 
 severe fault with Tiis ' Lutheran stomach,' which could not 
 endure ^e use of fish even on fast days ; and his constant 
 attacks on the gens cucuUata were well calculated to convert 
 an ultramontane univessity like Louvain into something 
 closely resembling a hornet's nest. But a severer blow than 
 any struck by Erasmus came from one whose orthodoxy it 
 was more dangerous to question — Adrian Florissone, In 
 the early years of the century he had been the tutor of the 
 future Emperor Charles V., who, with his sisters, resided for 
 a short time in the old castle of Louvain. Charles, however, 
 seems to have attended more wiUingly to the training of the 
 Sieur de Chifevres, to his falconry and manage, than to the in- 
 structions of the learned professor, ' Adrien me Va Men dit ! ' 
 he is said to have exclaimed long afterwards, wheni he found 
 some difficulty in replying to a Latin oration, Adrian him- 
 self profited more from the connexion. B^e succeeded to Leo 
 X. in the papacy, to the infinite displeasure of the Italians, by 
 whom his simple habits were regarded as anything but an im- 
 provement on the pomp and magnificence of his famous pre- 
 decessor. Whilst at Louvain, however, he had published some 
 commentaries on the well known Sentences of Peter Lombard, 
 in which he maintained the entire fallibiUty of the Pope, even 
 in matters pertaining to the faith, in complete opposition to 
 the fiercely Roman school by which- he was surrounded.* 
 And the theologians of Louvain were by no means comforted 
 at finding that their pupil and professor did not disavow this 
 judgment after he had himself assumed the tiara. 
 
 The Faculties of Law and Medicine can claim no very dis- 
 tinguished names. Some time later, Gabriel Mudseus followed 
 
 * 'Ad secundum principale de facto Gregorii, dico quod, si per 
 ecclesiam Romanam intelligatur pontif ex, certum est quod possit errare, 
 etiam in iis quae tangunt fidem, hseresim per suam determinationem 
 aut decretalem asserendo ; plures enim fuerunt pontifices Romani 
 heretic!.' — QiuBstiones m quartv/m SemienlAa/rvm, prxsertim, drca Sacra- 
 menta, 1516. 
 
 27 
 
418 SKETCHES AND STUDIES FEOM BELGnJM. 
 
 in the track of Alciati and Agustino, and laid Jthe foundations 
 for an accurate study of Roman law ; and Vesalius,* himself 
 a native of Brussels, was for some time a student at Louvain ; 
 but his great anatomical researches were not prosecuted there, 
 and it may therefore be questioned how far the university is 
 entitled to claim him as one of her distinctions. But by the 
 middle of the sixteenth century Louvain, unwilling as she had 
 been to commence a single improvement of her own accord, 
 had certainly done much for learning. Another great benefit 
 resulting from thQ university, of especial importance in the 
 troubled times that were commencing, was the tendency to 
 something like national unity, encouraged by the common re- 
 sort to it of so many students from the scattered and divided 
 provinces of the Low Countries. The sons of the great Flem- 
 ish nobles, who had hitherto been sent to Paris, were now 
 educated at Louvain ; and it is scarcely possible to overrate 
 the importance of such early association. It was evidently 
 the consciousness of this which induced Philip II. in 1569 
 to insist that none 6f his subjects throughout the Netherlands 
 should be educated at any other university. Moreover the wre, 
 seca of its doctors was after Phihp's own heart. There was 
 very little fear that Lutheranism would creep in among them; 
 and the king charged Cardinal Granvelle to watch carefully 
 over the university as the very stronghold of the faith in that 
 portion of his dominions. The concentration of Flemish stu- 
 dents at Louvain, and the unbending Eomanism of its profes- 
 sors, were among the principal — ^perhaps the principal — 
 causes of the eventual check of the Reformation in the Belgic 
 provinces ; for the supposed difierence of race between them 
 and their neighbours beyond the Scheldt, by which it has 
 been usually accounted for, is in itself untenable, and is also 
 unsupported by historical fact. It is sufiiciently clear that at 
 the commencement of the troubles the whole of modern Bel- 
 gium — always excepting the Walloon districts — was as fully 
 
II. LOUVAIN. 419 
 
 prepared to efaibrace Protesfantism, and as earnest in its 
 demonstrations on that side, as any portion of the United 
 Provinces themselves. 
 
 Louvain had a diiSciilt part to play during this stormy 
 period. As an onimous sign of the troubles to come, the 
 town was besieged in 1542 by Martin van Rossem', a well- 
 known captain of the day, then in the service of the Duke of 
 Grueldres. Van Rossem was a thorough condottiere, who in 
 war time acknowledged ni loi, ni foi; and who called a good 
 burning of a town his magnificat* The university, as soon 
 as Rossem's troops appeared before the gates, took counsel 
 with the burgomaster and the town j and the defence was 
 entrusted to Damian k Goes, a Portuguese knight of some 
 literary renown, who happened to be visiting Louvain at the 
 time, and who proceeded to man the walls, with the students. 
 Rossem, after a delay of some days, consented to retire on 
 receiving a certain quantity of wine and beer for his soldiers ; 
 but the students laid violent hands on their favourite Peeter- 
 mans and Faro as the supplies were being conveyed without 
 the town, and by a lucky chance the Emperor's troops com- 
 pelled Rossem to withdraw during the ensuing night. There 
 were other enemies however against whom the university could 
 not defend herself so happily. The young Count De Buren, 
 son of William of Orange, had been placed as a student at 
 Louvain, and was still there when his father withdrew into 
 Holland on the approach of Alva. He was at. once removed 
 and sent to Madrid ;t and Alva's well-known reply to the 
 
 * In fight his hair and beard stiffened, and the blood broke from 
 his lips. The front of his house at Amhem was painted with diabh- 
 tms and armed soldiers. On his death-bed he ordered a caimon- 
 ball to be placed in his coffin, a specimen of the coarse hunloiir for 
 which he was distinguished, and which made him the delight of his 
 
 t A portrait of the young Count, preserved at Louvain, has been 
 engraved in the sixth volume of the Mkn. de VAcadSmie de Bruxelles. 
 His dress as a student is of grey serge or camlet. 
 
420 ' SKETCHES AND STUDIES FEOM BELGIUM. 
 
 complaint of the university on this violation of their privileges 
 has passed from its barbarism into a proverb : Non curamus 
 privilegios vestros. As a necessary consequence the Doc- 
 tors of Louvain, in spite of their goodwill to the general 
 cause, .opposed the proceedings of Alva to the utmost of their 
 power ; and at last despatched a secret letter to Philip II., 
 in which, after representing the unhappy condition of the 
 country, they entreated him to recal the ferocious Duke, 
 and even threatened him, with the Divine vengeance should 
 he refuse to do so* Philip was perhaps more disposed to 
 listen to the theologians of Louvain than to his council at 
 Brussels ; and from whatever motives they acted, they may 
 claim the merit of having assisted to free the country from the 
 yoke of so intolerable a tyranny. During the wars that fol- 
 lowed, Louvain exchanged hands more than once, and was 
 more than once besieged ; but neither the town nor univer- 
 sity suffered in proportion to other cities of the Nether- 
 lands. It seems to have been spared by almost mutual 
 consent. 
 
 The accession of Albert and Isabella, the ' Archdukes,' as 
 they were called, marks .perhaps the most brilliant period of 
 Tiouvain. Many abases which the long troubles had brought 
 about — ^in discipline and in the administration of the colleges 
 — were remedied by a new charter. Critical learning had 
 made great progress, and Justus Lipsius, then at the height 
 of his reputation, was lecturing in the halls of the univer- 
 sity, attended by the tribe of little dogs that always made 
 part of his ' following : ' one of which, ' Saphir,' appears in 
 Rubens' picture of the ' Four Philosophers,' now in the Brera 
 at Milan, t When the Archdukes paid their first visit to Louvain 
 
 * A copy of this remarkable letter has recently been discovered at 
 Louvain by M. de Ram, rector magnificus of the present university. 
 
 f The tulips placed at the back of Ijipsius in this picture indicate 
 another of his tastes. Bat although he loved flowers he hated music 
 
II. LorvAiN. 421 
 
 they expressed a wish to hear the famous Professor for them- 
 selves, and attended accordingly in the great hall of the Stadt- 
 house, where, as the soleimn light struggled through the painted 
 quarrels on his unwonted audience, rustling in all the bra- 
 veries of velvet, and jewels, and knightly plumes, Lipsius, 
 robed in his scarlet symar, dehtered from a raised pulpit an 
 oration on the clemency of princes ; a subject requiring some 
 delicacy of iandling, considering the troubles out of which the 
 Low Countries had passed so recently. It must be admitted 
 that Lipsius' s best works were produced during his residence 
 as a Protestant at Leyden, and before his final reconciliation 
 with the church of Rome ; but it was a serious loss for 
 Louvain when he died in 1606, duriag one of those terrible 
 storms of wind then believed to accompany the deaths of dis- 
 tinguished personages, leaving his silver pen to the shrine of 
 the black Virgin of Halle, whose miracles it had laboriously 
 defended, and in whose church it is still preserved. Lipsius 
 is himself the enthusiastic historian of Louvain. MoBnia con- 
 scende et perambula, he writes, in Latin that has been severely 
 criticised by the Ciceronians. ' Let us mount on the walls 
 and make their circuit.' Nowhere could a site be found more 
 fitting for an university, nowhere one more completely quietis 
 et solitudinis custos. The forty-three colleges, besides the four 
 great Pcedagogia, had by this time nearly all been founded 
 and richly endowed ; and the storks, which the traveller 
 journeying northward met here for the first time, had taken 
 
 so greatly that the mere sound of an instrument brought on a fit of 
 the profoundest melancholy. In his treatise on the teaching fitted 
 for a prince, he excludes, or speaks hesitatingly about, all music 
 and poetry ; and rigidly banishes the whole body of romances with 
 Amadis at their head. The house at Isch, between Brussels and 
 Louvain, in which Lipsius was bom in 1547, is still pointed out. 
 Morihus AnUqwis was his device. His religious changes are said to 
 have been : ' 1. Catholic at Louvain. 2. Lutheran at Jena. 3. Again 
 Catholic at Louvain. 4. Calvinist at Leyden. 5. Finally Cathohc at 
 Louvain. 
 
422 SKETCHES AND STUDIES FROM BELGIUM. 
 
 due possession of their crow-steps and gabled roofs, where 
 they clapped their noisy beaks like so many muezzins on their 
 minarets. Without the walls the sloping hills about the town 
 were covered with vineyards, for the wine of Louvain had 
 been high in favour with the old Dukes of Brabant, and fully 
 equalled some of the better growths of France and the 
 Rhine.* The gilded vanes on the turrets of distant seig- 
 neurial chateaux sparkled here and there between the trees ; 
 the stately old monasteries of Park and Heverl^ lay sleeping in 
 the midst of their green meadows ; and beech woods of vene- 
 rable antiquity still swept away in the direction of Landen 
 and the Hasbaie, the pradle of the great Carolingian race, 
 one of whose daughters, Bt. Gertrude, was especially reve- 
 renced among the guardian protectors of Louvain. The 
 townspeople had not indeed the. courtliness of their Mechlin 
 neighbours. They were nitidi magis quam splendidi, says 
 Vernuleius, but they were perhaps aU the more fitted for 
 contact with the grave academicians, with whom they seemed 
 to have lived for the most part in great amity. On the occa- 
 sion of the annual Ommegang, when one of those remarkable 
 processions appeared in which the Low Countries have always 
 delighted, and in which Charles the Great and the Virgin 
 Mary, the Emperor Augustus and the car of the Seventeen 
 Provinces, were mingled in a happy confusLouj not surpassed 
 by the famous drama of the Anti-Jacobin, the university, in 
 full costume, walked between the four ' serments ' or guilds of 
 
 * The last remains of the vineyards disappeaxed about the begin- 
 ning of the eighteenth century, when the monks of St. Gertrude's, who 
 found they could get cheaper wine from France, sold their presses. 
 The Archduke Charles of Lorraine once dining with these monks, 
 pronounced their wine the best he had ever tasted. It came they said 
 from their French vineyards, and they offered the Archduke a pi^e. 
 This he wotJd not accept, but consented to receive two or three 
 bottles. The monks had three enormous bottles made, each of which 
 held a pi^ce, a plmsanterie which the Prince is said to have found 
 very agreeable. — Plot, Sist. de Louvam. 
 
II. iiOUVAiN. 423 
 
 arbaletriers and musqueteers, and tke great giant Christoplier, 
 the pride of Louvain, whose enormous figure emerged regu- 
 larly at this season from the sckewrr or barn which was its 
 especial habitation. The great number of students filled the 
 streets with life and movement. But the university had 
 already assisted in the foundation of two ofisets, one of which 
 was destined to grow in importance as Louvain herself 
 declined. These were Douay and Leyden ; the first erected 
 into an university by Philip II. for the especial benefit of his 
 Walloon subjects, the other founded by WUliam of Orange, 
 le Grand Tadtume, with entire liberty of conscience and 
 freedom from all tiie restraints with which Rome and 'the 
 schools ' had surrounded the older universities. Louvain sent 
 teadiers and professors to both ; but Leyden soon diverged 
 widely from the paths in which they had at first attempted to 
 guide her. 
 
 The comparison between the histories of Leyden and 
 Louvain, the results of their teaching, and the great names to 
 which each can point, are subjects which have been debated 
 with no little acrimony by the parties dividing modern 
 Belgium — ^the liberates and the clerioale^, Louvain, say the 
 first, was bound with chains. Leyden enjoyed entire liberty 
 of discussion. No wonder one should have declined as the 
 other advanced in pubhc estimation. To this M. de Ram, 
 rector magnifiem of the present Catholic University of 
 Louvain, replies in an elaborate essay,* in which he traces 
 the historf of the university at some length, and pronounces 
 that Louvain, throughout the entire period of her existence, 
 had neglected no possible means for the attainment of truth, 
 and had welcomed each new discovery in science with an 
 enlightened eagerness not to be surpassed by that of any 
 'faculty' of Leyden. But the learned rector attempts to 
 
 * Considerations swr VHistovre de V Urmeradi de Lowmm. Bruxelles, 
 1854. 
 
424 SKETCHES AND STUDIES FEOM BELGIUM. 
 
 prove far too mucli, and reminds us of Cardinal Wiseman's 
 remarkable allusion to the ' starry Galileo and his 'woes/ as an 
 instance of his church's readiness in the patronage and advance- 
 ment of learning. Louvain did good and efficient work in her 
 day, but — and is there one of the older universities of which 
 the same may not be said? — her real advance was from the 
 beginning effected in spite, and with the strong opposition, of 
 the main body of the university — a ' progression by antago- 
 nism,' which seems however to have ceased altogether in the 
 later period of her history. Whatever the cause, it is certain 
 that during the two last centuries the reputation of Louvain 
 passed completely away, while that of Leyden was increasing 
 daily. It is worth remarking that the two names by which 
 Louvain is best known — Erasmus and Justus Lipsius — ^are 
 both those of persons regarded during their lifetime with 
 something more than suspicion by the extreme Eoman party — 
 the true representatives of the university. Nor indeed with 
 these exceptions can Louvain point to any series of names 
 which have become greatly distinguished beyond the hmits of 
 their own country. Still it is quite certain that such names 
 are far from being the main tests of the general efficiency of 
 any university ; and we may fairly admit that Louvain has 
 sound claims to be regarded with respect and reverence by 
 the country whose destinies she has considerably influenced; 
 and into which, whether willingly or not, she was certainly 
 the means of introducing much true and accurate learning. 
 
 M. de Eam insists that, even throughout the eighteenth 
 century, when scientific research was but very little patronized 
 within the walls of universities, whether at Louvain or else- 
 where, every new discovery was welcomed by its professors, 
 and received all the attention to which it was justly entitled. 
 They did not exclude even Franklin's theory of electricity, 
 'notwithstanding the repugnance fairly excited by the political 
 and philosophical notions of its author.' But if they welcomed 
 
11. LOUVAIN. 425 
 
 Franklin, there were some great names that continued 
 strangers at Louvain. The ancient teaching of 'Aristotle and 
 his philosophic' was still the great stand'ard. Gralileo, Bacon, 
 and Newton, were all but unheard of., No wonder therefore 
 that the very name of the nniyersity should have been nearly 
 forgotten. It attracted somewhat more attention toward the 
 end of the- century, during the stormy scenes of the Braban5on 
 revolution, a little known but very curious passage of modern 
 history. From 1780, when the Emperor Joseph II. succeeded 
 the Empress Qupen, to the end of 1790, when the Imperial 
 troops entered Brussels as conquerors, nearly all Belgium was 
 in a state of revolt, the insurrection being headed by the nobles 
 and clergy. The Emperor's success was indeed but shortlived, 
 for the French crossed the frontier in 1792, and in 1.795 Bel- 
 gium was formally added to the grande S^puhlique. Louvain 
 had been one of the great causes of the Belgian discontent. 
 The siminawe g^n&rale which Joseph II. attempted to establish 
 there, after the fashion of others at Vienna and Pavia, in 
 which a regular course of theology was to be taught, including 
 the study of Greek and Hebtew, was violently opposed by the 
 clergy and university professors. It seemed as if a blow was 
 intended to be struck at the fierce ultramontanism of Louvain, 
 for it was proposed that none should be admitted to holy 
 orders who had not profited by the lectures of the siminaire. 
 The discontent was great, but the lectures were at first tole- 
 rably attended, although the Bishop of Limerick, scenting, like 
 a true Irishman, the battle from afar, declared he would admit 
 to orders none of his ' clerks' who during their studies at 
 Louvain had listened to the teaching of the insidious s^inaire. 
 But the quiet did not last long. Troubles soon arose, under 
 the judicious guidance of the more orthodox professors ; and an 
 attack was made on the siminaire by the students, who broke 
 the glass and burnt the benches, threw the tables out of the 
 window, and turned the Superior out of doors. A detachment 
 
426 SKETCHES AND STUDIES PBOM BELGIUM. 
 
 of dragoons, sent from Brussels, succeeded in restoring order,- 
 and the students, as their next best step, despatched a humble 
 petition to the Government, in which they pointed out the 
 extreme uselessness of such studies as Greek and Hebrew, and 
 also took occasion to represent that the beer of Louvain wasnot 
 supplied to them in sufficient quantities. Evecy abbey, every 
 convent, they said, was better off in this respect ; and what was 
 life at Louvain without beer ? The s4minaire continued to 
 exist, but, thanks to this petition, and to tiie shillelaghs of the 
 Irish ' clerks,' it did very little real mischief, and up to the last 
 moment of its existence the university pursued its old tranquil 
 course, dechning, with a resolution worthy of a better cause, to 
 move round the sim, and , altogether ignoring the heretical 
 apples that dropped from their trees in Sir Isaac Newton's 
 garden. 
 
 Louvain, however, when her last hour came, ' composed her 
 mantle,' and fell with dignity. When, in 1795, the church of 
 St. Gertrude, with all its delicate wood carvings, was con- 
 verted into a 'Temple of Reason/ the university, although 
 perfectly aware of what the result would be, steadily refused 
 to assist at its festivals. ' If we must fall,' they said, 'let it 
 be in support of our holy faith, pro moribus antiquis — piis — 
 Christianis.' So it was accordingly. The Republic, finding 
 it impossible to bend the university to its wishes, dissolved it 
 by a solemn decree, and two years later the ancieflt University 
 of Louvain had already ceased to exist. The annual value of 
 the revenues at this time confiscated is estimated by De Pradt 
 at 1,400,000 francs. 
 
 The present university was established in 1816, and recon- 
 stituted after the revolution of 1830. It is exclusively 
 Romanist, and accepts as a glory, and not a reproof; the 
 charges of ultramontanism and illiberality. We believe, how- 
 ever, that it has consented to move round the sun. 
 
SKETCHES AND STUDIES FROM BELGIUM. 
 IIL Bruges from the Belfry Tower.* 
 
 /~^ KEAT is the excitement to-day in tHs old town of 
 ^^ Bruges, usually so still and qmet. Streams of -visitors, 
 from every honne ville within accessible distance,= — Courtray, 
 Ypres, Ghent, Oudenarde — come pouring through the streets, 
 which are planted with young fir-trees and decorated with all 
 manner of streaming flags and pennons. Baskets of rushes 
 and golden broom stand at every door ; and all the best salons 
 are set wide open for the reception of expected guests. Strange 
 caps from Blankenburg and the Dutch border, with stranger 
 cloakfe and bonnets from outlying villages of the ' Frank,' are 
 mingled with bare-footed Carmelites, Capuchins with long 
 red beards, black plumed Carbineers, and Beguines with the 
 whitest and stiffest of headgear. Sister Katryn and Sister 
 Gertrude, with iheir failles and black robes and rosaries, have 
 just been received with <Jie utmost respect in that pink-stained 
 house opposite, where the ' Seven Works of Mercy' are carved 
 along the front. There they sit at the broad opep window, 
 looking down upon the moving crowd, just like an illumina- 
 tion cut out of the Soke of Troy or the Romaunt of the Rose. 
 Great is the chatter in all sorts of Flemish, under the linden? 
 of the cathedral, from whence every now and" then an organ 
 note comes floating through the branches. Now the crowd 
 falls reverently back, and the priests of St. Anne or St. 
 * Fraifr's Magmme, January, 1857. 
 
428 SKETCHES AND STUDIES FEOM BELGIUM. 
 
 Jacques, in their richest copes, with choristers, crosses, and 
 banners, pass along toward the Grand Place. Now it opens 
 again, and there steals by a long string of 'Maries' in white 
 veils and chaplets, bearing branches of lilies in their hands. 
 It is the great fSte day of Bruges — the only day in the year 
 when thS town regains something of its old life and move- 
 ment. The ' Saint Sang,' brought from the Holy Land in 
 the twelfth century, by Count Thierry of Alsace, the most 
 precious of all the myriad relics honoured in the churches of 
 Belgium, — ^wiU shortly emerge in its jewelled shrine from its 
 chapel under the shelter of the Stadhuys, and will be carried 
 in solemn procession through the streets, attended by aU the 
 clergy, and by representatives of the numberless religious 
 orders which, as the Brugeois will tell you, make the town 
 one great convent when its gates are shut at night. Bruges 
 itself, and all the fields about it, are to draw their prosperity 
 throughout the coming year from this grand occasion : and 
 every peasant who cares for his flax or potatoes will follow 
 in the train of the shrine. With permission, however, we 
 will ourselves choose to-day the more picturesque part. A 
 true old-world ceremony, such as these Flemish processions 
 — mysikres du moyen age — as Dumas has called them — qv!on 
 vient voir par les chemins de fer, ig, like an eastern town, 
 never more strikjng than when viewed from some judicious 
 distance, whence its anomalies atid imperfections may all be 
 softened down so as to afFord us the general and impressive 
 effect, without its discords. Following Mr. Longfellow's 
 example, we will climb the old tower of the belfry, — ^the tower 
 of the HalleSj that watches over the Grand Place, and that 
 shows its graceful pinnacles and broad black window arches, 
 wherever a glimpse of the town is caught through the trees 
 of, the plat-pays about it. 
 
 Great, indeed, is the contrast, as we pass into the quiet 
 ^loom of the tower, from the stir and sunshine of the warm 
 
III. BEUGES FROM THE BELFEY TOWEE. 429 
 
 spring day wiiliout. Mount carefully its winding stair — 
 story after story — ^glancing, if you will, into that vaulted 
 room,. grim and spider-haunted, where the records of ancient 
 Bruges, memorials of the Konings and the Arteveldes, were 
 long left to moulder, — or lingering for a moment at the nar- 
 row arch opening to the chamber where the largest bell is 
 hung, across which a ray of mottled sunshine falls through 
 the tall window-slit. Here we are at last in the room where 
 the Carilloneur is preparing to contribute his part to the day's 
 festivities. The space is nearly all taken up. with the great 
 tambour of the Carillon — ^like that of a gigantic musical-box 
 — and with the clavier on which the performer strikes the notes. 
 Even, here we must not linger now. Still higher — and at 
 last we are safe in the story directly under the roof, with 
 high-arched, unglazed windows opening on all sides, like so 
 many dark frames, each enclosing a broad sunlighted picture. 
 Far and wide, in every direction, stretches the green, rich 
 country, like some vast landscape of Rubens or of Turner, 
 surrounding with its belt of verdure the many-gabled old town 
 at our feet. Over all hangs the great arch of the sky, deep 
 blue above, but paling off toward the distant horizon. One 
 or two light clouds are floating in it, and chequer with their 
 shadows the ' yonge freshe grene' of the lindens and beech 
 woods. Canals gleam here and there between the fields of 
 rye and of flax, — green that rivals in loveliness the unfolding 
 leaves of the lime trees. The smoke of the trains rises white 
 in the sun over the tree tops. Groups of poplars shoot up 
 like beaoon flames above the deep masses of leafage. Old 
 Chateaux, — TiUeghem, with its gilt vanes, and its tourelles, — 
 Male, the stronghold of the Counts of Flanders, — Ke half 
 asleep in the midst of their own woods ; and westward, be- 
 tween the grey line of the dunes, the blue of the sea breaks in 
 at intervals. AH is set in the black framing of the windows, 
 and sometimes a starling or a jackdaw comes flashing across 
 
430 SKETCBEES AND STUDIES PEOM BELGIUM. 
 
 in the sun, and prunes himself on the top of the pinnacle just 
 visible below. Within, we are in deep shadow, under the 
 huge cross-beams of the roof, on one of which hangs the brand- 
 horn — ^like an ancient trumpet-^— to be sounded whenever fire 
 shall break out. Leaning over the broad sill of the window, 
 we can now see all that is going on in the town below us. 
 
 It lies unfolded like a map. Every house and every square 
 is visible ; and thongh no Asmodeus is at hand .to sweep away 
 the roofs, we nevertheless seem admitted to all sorts of private 
 haunts and seclusions. Each street is marked out, with its 
 crow-stepped gables and red tilings. There — occupying the 
 very sites where first St. Eligius, and then St. Boniface, had 
 preached to the fierce old Flemings^rises the tower of the 
 Cathedral; and there N6tre Dame, massive, dark, fortress-like, 
 telling in its glooffiiy strength its own wild story of thirteenth 
 century troubles. The convent gardens lie all open to us, 
 with their trees and their clumps of flowering azaleas ; 
 patches of bright colour between the grey old walls. There 
 are the lindens of the Stevens-Platz and the Bourg. There 
 open the narrow markel^squares, where the banners of the 
 trade guilds have so often floated over stormy debate and over 
 stormier strife. There is the street of St. Amand, where the 
 Count of Flanders took shelter in the widow's loft on the 
 memorable night of Artevelde's attack ; and farther off, close 
 within the line of the walls, ghmmers the ' Minnewater,' where 
 the men of Ghent have many a time exchanged blows with 
 their never-reconciled rivals of Bruges. Look now at that 
 long open space beginning under the shadow of N6tre Dame, 
 and stretching as far as the picturesque gables of the palace 
 of the Frank. That is . the quay of Eosenhoet, the most 
 thronged of the many canal quays of Bruges in those golden 
 days when the commerce of the Flemings extended as far as 
 that of the Phoenicians of old, and when the great fair of 
 Bruges brought together merchants and chapmen from almost 
 
in. BEUGES PEOM THE BELPEY TOWEE. 431 
 
 every part of Christendom- At its upper end, close by the 
 church, is the stately old niansion of Grruyt'huys, in which 
 Edward IV. was sheltered for some months, when he fled 
 from the recovered power of the Red Rose. Further on, in 
 a quarter of low-roofed houses stiU preserving a fragment 
 of the mediaeval town, rises the dome of the Church of Jeru- 
 salem — an imitation of the Holy Sepulchre, and one of those 
 many buildings which were raised in different parts of 
 the north as memorials of the ' Holy Places' after they had 
 again fallen into the hands of the Saracens. It is itself the 
 work of the Adornis, a great house of Genoese merchants, 
 early settled in Bruges. Nearer at hand is the carved front 
 of the Genoese exchange, the first ' Bourse,' it is said, which 
 was ever established in Europe. Beyond, again, over streets 
 crowded with relics of ancient splendour, fragments of merchant 
 palaces, and of the trade halls with their towers,^ rises the 
 high tourelle of moulded bricks belonging to the guild of St. 
 Sebastian, the earliest of aU the guilds of archers and arbaU- 
 triers, once the pride of every Flemish town. In its long 
 garden gallery, open at the sides like a Kentish church-porch, 
 Charles the Second, during his exile here, used frequently to 
 'shoot at the butts ; ' and no doubt drained many a tall glass 
 of claret in the great room within, where his statue, decorated 
 with certain edifying Flemish rhymes, still occupies the place 
 of honour. Not a quarter of the old town but has its own in- 
 terest, or that does not suggest visions of plumes and cloth of 
 gold, Ambacht's men, with white hoods and ' goeden dags' — 
 those iron-spiked staves that gave such effectual f-good mor- 
 rows' on the field of spurs at Courtray, — or sweeping proces- 
 sions of Knights of the Fleece and the ' lances of Burgundy.' 
 Yet perhaps the most interesting relic of ancient Bruges lies 
 close below us. That slender pinnacle, with its dome-like crest 
 of open work, rising above the end of the Saint Sang chapel, 
 is nearly all that now exists of the ' Bourg' or Castle of the 
 
432 SKETCHES AND STUDIES PEOM BELGIUM. 
 
 Counts of Flanders. Romanesque in character, it is at least 
 as old as the Norman Conquest. Earl Godwine may have 
 looked on it when he took refuge in Bruges on his 
 banishment from England; and it may have been familiar 
 to Gytha and her daughters, when they too, after Hastings, 
 fled from Exeter, and found shelter within the castle of 
 Count Baldwin. The graceful old Stadhuys, with the gilt 
 angels glittering on its lucarnes, lies beside it — the most 
 ancient Hotel de Ville in all the Low Countries. And here, 
 in front, opens the Grand Place, encircled by quaint and 
 many-coloured houses ; among them the tall front and pointed 
 arches of the Craenenburg, in which Maximilian was confined, 
 whilst the shouts of the ferocious Clawaerts were ringing in 
 his ears, and the axe fell, and the fire streamed up from the 
 scaffolds of his friends, whose lives were closing fearfully in 
 the square below. 
 
 ' Meanwhile the procession has been creeping slowly through 
 the streets strewed with flowering broom and water-flags, and 
 at last emerges into the sunshine of the Grand Place. The 
 clang of military music mingles strangely with the Litanies. 
 Mounted lancers come first, and take up their position beside 
 a great altar raised on the opposite side of the square. It is 
 blazing with gold and jewels ; its many steps are carpeted, 
 and strewn with 'herbs of grace '-^mint, and thyme, and 
 balm of Gilead. Chanting choristers, in their crimped albs, 
 pass by, and range themselves on either side of the altar 
 steps. Then the smoke floats upward from a dozen swinging 
 censers, and the perfume of the frankincense rises through the 
 clear air even to the top of our lofty tower. Monseigneur de 
 Bruges follows, under his scarlet canopy, bearing the'/Sami 
 Sacrement in its glittering monstrance. Behind him come the 
 Bishops of Li^ge, of Ghent, and of Arras, each walking with 
 his tall crozier, and shining in the sun, with their rich copes 
 and mitres, Uke so many golden beetles. The shrine of the Saint 
 
III. BEUGES PEOM THE BELFET TOWEE. 433 
 
 Sang, and its companion, the figure of the Saviour, brought 
 from the tomb in the Church of Jerusalem, and covered with 
 a veil, then appear, surrounded by Capuchins and Carmelites. 
 Long strings of monks and nuns creep across the square ; 
 Maries with their lilies, and a little St. John in a sheepskin, 
 leading a lamb by a long blue riband. The priests of Bruges, 
 and of all the communes round about, follow ; and through all 
 the ranks glitter crosses arid banners, and jewelled crowns on 
 the heads of numberless figures of the Virgin. All round the 
 great square the long lines range themselves. All are quiet 
 except St. John's lamb, which gives considerable trouble, 
 bleats once or twice, and is only stilled at last by its master 
 sitting upon it. The bishops and priests are at the altar ; the 
 oflBce commences ; the responses roll upward grandly ; and 
 very solemn is the moment when, at the elevation of the Host, 
 the trumpets sound a fanfare, a hundred choristers break 
 into the Ave verv/m, and the great bell within the tower tolls 
 out deeply over all the kneeling people. 
 
 At last the service is over. All defile slowly off into the 
 Bourg-Platz, where the holy relic is once more placed in the 
 chapel, not to emerge again for another twelve-months. When 
 closely inspected — which it may be by passing before it any 
 Friday morning, when it is exposed for the veneration of all 
 comers — ^it resembles a patch of worsted, dyed of a dull-red 
 colour. So must have looked the Holy Blood of Hailes, before 
 Cromwell's commissioners ventured to break the glass in which 
 it was exhibited ; and so still looks the famous blood of St. 
 Januarius at Naples. In the most prosperous days of Bruges, 
 the procession of the Saint Sang was the signal for the display 
 of the greatest riches that the town possessed, and for the inven- 
 tion of the most wonderful ceremonies and miracle plays. It 
 heralded the great fair, to which came the merchants of 
 Christendom, some in their ships to the ports of Damme, and 
 some with long strings of pack-horses through the dangerous 
 
 28 
 
434 SKETCHES AUTD STUDIES FROM BELGIUM. 
 
 forests of Flanders. The fair of Bruges still follows the pro- 
 cession ; but if we wish to see with our own eyes what the 
 ancient fair resembled, we must now journey eastward as far 
 as Novogorod. Two points connected with it, however, we 
 may yet make out, as we gaze once more over the wide land- 
 scape ; — the source from which the commerce of Bruges ori- 
 ginally sprang, and that from which it continued to be 
 supported during its existence. The first is Thorout, lying 
 away toward the horizon, southward among the remains of 
 its great oak woods ; the second is the old port of Damme — 
 now no port at all, but a cluster of grey, lonely houses by the 
 side of its long canal — ' veritable image d'un ennui sans homes' 
 says some one, which is true only of a dark wintry day, and 
 riot when, as now, the young leaves are unfolding themselves 
 and the blue water is. rippHng in the sunshine. 
 
 Thorout — Thor's holt — the wood of Thor — seems to have 
 been the great religious centre for the heathen Flemings 
 of the coast. Until within the last few years, during which 
 the wood has been slowly clearing, jnany rude stone monu- 
 ments existed in it, under oaks whose branches shadowed the 
 walls of Winendale, one of the most favourite castles of 
 the Counts of Flanders. Here, as to the very stronghold of 
 Paganism, came the first Christian preachers ; bearding the 
 lion in his den, and succeeding at last in raising a church and 
 a convent in the midst of the circles and green mounds of Thor 
 and of Odin. Tournay, the Frankish capital, was the centre 
 from which Christianity first invaded the woods and marshes of 
 ' Fleanderland ;' as Arras, another Roman frontier town, was 
 that from which it penetrated into Brabant and the Ardennes. 
 It was St. Medard, bishop of Tournay, toward the beginning 
 of the sixth century, who first appeared as a missionary among 
 the Flemings of Thorout ; and in his anonymous but almost 
 contemporary life, the word Flanders — gens Flandrensium* 
 
 * The etymology of this word is doubtful. 'Any that we can gueas 
 
ni. BBUGE8 FEOM THE BELPEY TOWEE. 435 
 
 occurs for the first time. Fierce heathens, indeed, in all but 
 name, they continued long centuries after this ; yet a com- 
 mune near Thorout is still known as St. Medard's ; and the 
 cell which he had founded still remained in the ninth century, 
 when it was given by the Emperor Louis the Pious to St. 
 Anschar, the * Apostle of the North.' Here, as Anschar was 
 one day standing at the door of the little church in the midst 
 of the oak clearings, there passed by a yellow-haired Flemish 
 boy, with whose appearance he was greatly struck. It was 
 Rembert, destined to be his companion during his labours in 
 Denmark and in Sweden, to be the historian of his life, and 
 finally to become his successor in the archiepisoopal see of 
 Hamburgh.* 
 
 Thus the fifteen years' labour of Medard among the fero- 
 cious Flemings was not altogether without its fruit ; and thus 
 the Flemings in their turn — ^for besides Rembert, Anschar 
 himself is said to have been of their race — came to take part 
 in the work of spreading the great truths of Christianity, 
 Centres of religion, however, have always been centres of 
 commerce ; and to this rule Thorout was no exception. The 
 first great Flemish fair grew up here under the walls of the 
 cell of St. Anschar. In earlier times, the wool and the corn 
 of Britain and the West had found their way to Treves, the 
 storehouse of Northern Europe, 
 
 Imperii vires quod alit, quod vestit, et armat, 
 
 or to Arras, which retained for a longer period its great 
 
 commercial importance. Both were to give place to a 
 
 site in every way more fitted to become the staple of 
 
 northern trade. After Baldwin Bras-de-fer, the first Count 
 
 at,' says Sir F. Palgrave, ' seems intended to designate that the land 
 was so called from being half drowned' (Normamdy and Englatid, i. 537). 
 M. Kervyn de Lettenhove (Hist, de Flamdre, i. 52^ suggests Fleondra 
 land — fays dea fugitifs — Flymmgs. This is so far questionable that it 
 is not likely to have been accepted by the Flemings themselves. 
 * V. S. Bemberti, ap. Langebek et Suhm, 
 
436 SKETCHES AND STUDIES FEOM BELGIUM. 
 
 of Flanders, had married Judith of France, widow of the 
 Saxon Ethelbert, and mother-in-law of our Alfred the Great, 
 he fixed his principal residence at Bruges, and built a 
 strong castle there (the ' Bourg' at our feet), at a place which 
 already had become well known from the bridges (brugge) 
 which there crossed the winding stream of the Reye. Within 
 the walls was a chapel, in which were placed the relics of St. 
 Donatus, brought from Rh^ims, who from this time became 
 the patron saint of Bruges ; and outside the gates were the 
 Mal-berg, the * hill of council,' — ^like the ' mytstedes' still 
 existing in Friesland, and the green mote-hills of Galloway 
 — ^and a rude hostelry for the chapmen during the fair, 
 which Baldwin transferred from Thorout to his new and more 
 convenient abode. 
 
 Thus arose Bruges ; and now we may look westward toward 
 Damme, its ancient port and the main source of its prosperity. 
 Among all the changes which this coast has undergone, none 
 has produced more important or more lasting results than the 
 drying up of the Zwyn, the arm of the sea that formerly 
 penetrated in a south-easterly direction from the coast near 
 I'Ecluse, to a little beyond Damme, within two EngKsh miles 
 of Bruges. The Zwyn, or the ' Sincfala,' as it is called in the 
 earliest Frison la\vs, was the recognised boundary between that 
 race and the Flemings farther south. In early times its navi- 
 gation was safer than that of the Scheldt, crowded with small 
 islands, many of which have changed their forms or entirely 
 disappeared ; and the line of the sea-dunes acting as a breaks 
 watep, cqnverted it into a long harbour, well known to the 
 northern Vikingr, whose ravages, it is not impossible, had 
 partly induced Baldwin to fix his new castle at Bruges. 
 Soon, howaver, as the town increased under the castle walls, 
 and the fair grew in importance, more peaceful ships began 
 to haunt the shallow waters of the Zwyn. There was brought 
 the wool from the green meadows and uplands of the English 
 
ni. BBUGES PBOM THE BELPEY TOWEE. 437 
 
 Cistercians ; there, later still, came the rich galleys of Genoa 
 and of Venice, Osterling ships from the Hanse towns, and others 
 from the remoter shores of Norway and Sweden. All the 
 treasures of the north and south were collected there, and 
 poured onward to the great mart of Bruges ; gerfalcons from 
 Iceland, and the oils of Andalusia ; Russian furs, and dates 
 from the Atlas ; the metals of Hungary and Bohemia ; figs 
 from Grenada ; honey of Portugal ; leather from Morocco, 
 and the spices of Egypt ; 'par c<n^ says an old chronicler, 
 ' nulle terre rCest compar^e de marchmidise enconire la terre de 
 FlandreJ'* At the head of the inlet rose at last the town of 
 Damme, called ' Honds-Damme,' the dyke of the dog, from a 
 story that its foundations perpetually sank until a black hound, 
 breathing fire, appeared on the edge of the morass in which 
 they were laid, ran several times round it, and then vanished 
 in the midst, after which the ground became firm and solid. 
 Many a tale of ancient splendour, and many an illustration of 
 European history, might be furnished by the ruins of the old 
 church at Damme, could they find a voice to declare aU the 
 changes they have witnessed, and to teU of all the great person- 
 ages who have passed through their aisles and beneath their 
 arches. Like Sandwich, on the opposite coast, the harbour of 
 Damme is now a line of rushy marshes and green * polders ; 
 yet beside its walls the lilies of Philip Augustus have waved; 
 and the leopard flag of the Plantagenets has many a time flut- 
 tered there in days when the desire of French conquest led 
 the kings of England to make common cause with the half- 
 despised ' weaver nobles' of Flanders, To Damme, with the 
 third Edward, came ' Madame Philippe la Royne,' passing 
 through Bruges, and so on to Ghent, where she gave birth to 
 her son John of Gaunt ; and where she held at the font, and 
 
 * Kervyn de Lettenhove, Hist, de Fkmd/re, ii. p. 12, This is the 
 best general history of Flanders, though it by no means supersedes the 
 more profound work of Wamkoenig. 
 
438 SKETCHES AND STUDIES FEOM BELGIUM. 
 
 bestowed her own name upon, the infant son of Jacques van 
 Artevelde, that Philip who was to tread in the footsteps of 
 his greater father. In the church of Damme, now open to the 
 sky, yet still showing in its arcades and traceries thirteenth 
 century work of much beauty, was celebrated the marriage 
 of Charles the Bold with Margaret of York, a solemnity 
 followed by such maskings, triumphs, and ' sotelties,' as had 
 never yet been seen, even in the spectacle-loving town of 
 Bruges. By this time, however, the Zwyn was beginning to 
 show signs of disappearing. Even the shallow vessels, which 
 alone could approach the coast of the Netherlands, found 
 difficulty in passing up it. The sea retired more and more. 
 Broader and broader polders were enclosed on either side of the 
 strait ; and at last it became altogether impracticable. From 
 that moment the trade of Bruges — ^which had already suffered 
 in consequence of the increasing cloth traffic of England — 
 ceased altogether. The Low Country commerce passed to 
 Antwerp ; and thence, after the troubles of Alva, again north- 
 ward, to Amsterdam. Yet Damme, as the first trade harbour 
 on this coast, is still worthy of a pilgrimage. There is a strange 
 deserted look about the old place, aU the more impressive from 
 the remains of its past grandeur. The turf smoke, curling 
 up over the carved front and ruinous towers of the Stadhouse, 
 and the old curd sunning himself under the apricots of his 
 garden wall, are nearly all the out-of-doors signs of life you are 
 Ukely to encounter. But enter the Stadhouse, now degraded 
 into the hostelry of the White Swan, and inspect a so-called 
 portrait of Van Maerlant, the old Flemish Chaucer, carved 
 on one of the panels in the great salle. Scroll in hand, he is 
 supposed to be inditing the marvellous adventures of Till 
 Eulenspiegel, to the honour of whose birth Damme, among 
 many other places, has put forth her claims. His tombstone, 
 decorated with an owl and a mirror, was formerly pointed 
 out on the nave flooring of the ruined church. 
 
III. BBUGES FEOM THE BELFKT TOWEB. 439 
 
 The green, rich, village-dotted country in the midst of 
 which Danune lies, is the ancient Frank of Bruges, one of the 
 four ' members' of Flanders — Grhent, Ypres, and the town of 
 Bruges being the other three. The palace of the Frank, 
 within which is Blondeel's far-famed chimney, rises among its 
 poplars on the further side of the Stadhouse. Strange enough 
 is the historical contrast between the condition of the towns, 
 with their stately architecture and civiKzation, and that of the 
 open country, where old Flemish ferocity and heathenism lin- 
 gered far down into the middle ages. The Frank, especially that 
 portion of it toward the sea, and indeed the whole line of the 
 coast as far as Furnes, protected the ancient ghildes — associa- 
 tions for common defence and support, not a Httle dreaded by 
 the Carolingian chieftains, who sought to master the Flemings 
 and their country. From these ghildes sprang the freedom 
 and prosperity of Flanders ; but except in the towns, it was 
 long before they rose above their early barbarism. ' The 
 nearer the sea, the ruder the folk,' says the historian Meyer. 
 Those wide sandy dunes that ghsten in the far distance, now 
 aHve only with the sea-breeze, or (as old Ubbo Emmius des- 
 cribes the similar coasts of East Friesland) with the ringing 
 songs of innumerable larks, re-echoed incessantly to very 
 different sounds — the feuds of the ' karls' — no two settlements 
 of whom were ever permanently at peace. Long torches 
 (hacchce) tossed high into the air, or raised on the summits of 
 the dunes, were the signals that called together the villages 
 for fight, armed with the scharm-sax — ^the short Saxon sword 
 — or with the great knotted club, to which some kind of reli- 
 gious character was attached, from its likeness to the hammer 
 of Thor. Hence the name of ' colve,' or clubkarls ; a title 
 with which Mr. Oldbuck was not unacquainted, and which has 
 been found in many corners of England and Scotland, besides 
 Monkbarns. ' No one ever succeeded in bringing them into 
 subjection,' says the monk of St. Yictor, 'king, count, or 
 
440 SKETCHES AND STUDIES FEOM BELGIUM. 
 
 baron.' They became divided at length into two great bodies 
 — Blauvoets, (Yellow Feet) — apparently an old Northern 
 name of the fox, — and Isengrims, or wolves. Between these 
 the strife was perpetual ; and the chronicler of the Abbey of 
 Dunes records it as an especial mark of the Divine favour, 
 that for an entire twelve-months not a single drop of blood 
 had fallen within the precincts of tiie monastery : 
 
 " They burnt my little lonely tower — 
 The foul fiend rive their souls therefore ; 
 It had not been burnt a year or more." 
 
 Blauvoets and Isengrims were ahke banded against the nobles 
 of the castles and towns : — ' Fierce are the karls,' says an old 
 Flemish ballad,' with their rough beards and their ragged 
 jerkins. They think to strike down theknights. With their 
 dubs, and their knives stuck into their belts, they go as 
 proud as a count, and think all the world belongs to them. 
 May heaven curse them ; and as for us, we will spur our 
 horses over their plains — we will drag them in the mud, and 
 hang them on gibbets.'* 
 
 It was among these karls, however, that the earliest laws 
 and free institutions of ' Fleanderland ' were preserved. They 
 were the first to raise the sea-dykes, — the protection of the 
 land from the ever-encroaching waves of the German Ocean. 
 ' He who breaks through the dyke,' says an old Flemish law, 
 ' shall lose his right hand.' The ghilde associations were 
 worked upon and turned to good account by the monks who 
 settled among them, and who there, as elsewhere, were the 
 great pioneers of civilization. Munickreede, founded by Irish 
 missionaries, on the northern coast — Sithiu, on the southern 
 frontier — and later, the great Cistercian Abbey of the Dunes, 
 near Fumes, aU bore a part in the work, and soon saw their 
 labours rewarded. But the house of the Dunes was the 
 especial tamer of the Blauvoets. More than two hundred lay 
 * Oudvlaemsche liederen, — ^pub. par I'AbbS Carton. — Bruges. 
 
m. BEUGES FBOM THE BELFBT TOWBE. 441 
 
 brethren worked at different trades in the extensive buildings 
 by which the monastery was surrounded. The library con- 
 tained more than a thousand manuscripts ; and the church 
 was so famous for its wood carvings, that one of the breth- 
 ren crossed the seas, at the request of the Abbot of Melrose 
 — ^perhaps the same Father Ingelram to whose good deeds 
 brother Nicholas of Kennaquhair was fond of recurring — ^in 
 order to superintend the decoration of the choir of his Abbey 
 Church. It was on their brakes and meadows, however, that 
 the white monies of the Dunes laboured most incessantly ; and 
 the lands about the monastery were cultivated by them with 
 so much care and success, that Abbot Nicholas of Bailleul was 
 wont pleasantly to remark, that the dunes were no longer 
 sandhills, but had become mountains of silver. The Dunes, 
 like the other monasteries, had its distant farms and forests, 
 where, as also in the grange or home farm, the Cistercians 
 taught their rude neighbours how to construct their dykes, to 
 drain their marshes, 6.nd to cultivate their fields. All this 
 tended to improvement in every way. Flanders became 
 famous for her grain, and still more for her ale and beer. 
 Gens tibi, Flandrena, cibus est et potus avena, runs the old 
 monkish rhyme. The flocks and herds of her rich pastures — 
 the abundance of butter, cheese, and milk— and the strong 
 Flemish horses, Flandria ferax equorum, — famous throughout 
 Europe long before Saccharissa sighed for her coach and six 
 fat Flanders mares, — 'all attract the attention and the praise 
 of foreign writers. In the year 1300, when Count Guy de 
 Dampierre and a large company of Flemish knights became 
 the captives of the French king, Philip le Bel, the wives of the 
 Flemish nobles sent presents to the wives of their husband's 
 gaolers, in the hope of rendering their imprisonment less 
 severe. Among the cloths, and falcons, and gilded hanaps, 
 appear several ' goodly Flemish cows j' no doubt that same 
 black-and-white breed that Cuyp and Paul Potter loved to 
 
442 SKETCHES AND STUDIES FEOM BELGIUM. 
 
 paint, and that still sparkles below us in the sunshine, wher- 
 ever a green meadow lies spread out between the woods. 
 
 All this time the Carillon has been vigorously sounding. 
 Mr. Longfellow's ' nuns of the choir ' have somewhat loud 
 voices when thus heard close at hand ; and as to the ' great 
 bell sounding 'mong them like the chanting of a frfere,' his 
 reverence must have fortified himself well with Flemish beer 
 before he could have sent forth such a voix de Gargantua. 
 We shall like them better under the elms of the Beguinage : 
 so let us descend from our lofty chamber, and perhaps look in 
 at the wonderful Hemmlings in the Hopital de St. Jean — 
 never to be seen too often — as we pass along through the now 
 quiet streets. 
 
SKETCHES AND STUDIES FEOM BELGIUM. 
 rV. A Visit to the Chateaux of Rubens and Teniers.* 
 
 Mt Dear , 
 
 Every one who visits Antwerp, whether he cares anything 
 about the matter or not, goes through, as a part of his 
 duty, a certain amount of Rubens-pilgrimage. Of course 
 he sees the great pictures in N6tre Dame and the 
 Museum; and reverences the leathern chair, with its faded 
 wreath of immortelles, in which Rubens presided over the 
 festivities of the ancient Gruild of St, Luke. Some few 
 penetrate to the chapel of St. Jacques, where the ' Toparch 
 of Steen ' — as the Latin inscription is pleased to call the 
 great painter — ^lies buried ; and where his own stately figure, 
 dad in the armour of St. George, and the faces of his 
 wives, his father, and his children, look down upon you in 
 patriarchal array from the altar-piece. A smaller number 
 still visit his once magnificent house, with its open court and 
 gardens, now divided and remodelled ; and whoever was in 
 the fine old city during the Art Exhibition of the Guild of 
 St. Luke, might have rejoiced in sundry other relics of the 
 * King of Antwerp.' The sword, with its chased and gilded 
 hilt, used by Charles I. in conferring the honour of knight- 
 hood upon Sir Peter Paul, and the letters patent granted to 
 him on the same occasion, both from the collections of an 
 amateur of Louvain ; and a collar of the ancient Society of 
 Arquebusiers, given to Rubens by the ' King ' of the guild, 
 * Fraser'i Magazine, January, 1858. 
 
444 SKETCHES AND STUDIES FROM BELGIUM. 
 
 who chanced also to be the Burgomaster of Antwerp,- during 
 the well-known treaty for the ' Descent,' were duly exhibited, 
 among quaint old Flemish drinking glasses, engraved 
 ' hanaps ' and beer cups, and delicately carved ivories by 
 Pompe and Duquesnoy. One also among the many Kuben- 
 ses that glowed along the walls is not soon to be forgotten 
 — a portrait of his mother, Marie Pypelynx. She is -dressed 
 in black, with a broad Spanish ruff; and if the picture 
 be indeed that of the Antwerp burgher's daughter (of which 
 there may possibly be a doubt), the firm compressed lips, 
 the eye clear and full of intellect, and the broad, high 
 forehead, indicate that in Bubens' case as in most others, 
 a full share of genius came to him from the side of his 
 mother. 
 
 With Antwerp, however, the visitor generally considers 
 
 his duties to Rubens at an end. Of course he looks at the 
 
 pictures in the different churches, as the Guide-Books tell 
 
 him I but as none of these do more than remark that ' Steen, 
 
 formerly the chateau of Rubens, and Drytoren, that of Teniers, 
 
 lie to the left in passing from Mechlin to Brussels,' nobody 
 
 dreams of putting himself out of his way in order to pay them a 
 
 visit. In one of Lever's stories you may remember a certain 
 
 * Chateau de Vandyck,' in which an unhappy Englishman 
 
 thought fit to set up the staff of his rest. He is visited by a 
 
 fellow-countryman, who on his return home publishes a 
 
 Walk through Flanders, and ' discovers ' the chateau to the 
 
 world of admiring tourists. The consequences are frightful. 
 
 The unfortunate Englishman is allowed no rest by tiight or 
 
 by day. Half Europe storms his saZons, and sweeps through 
 
 them with the most perfect indifference to their owner. He 
 
 is insulted in his visitors' book ; and the nearest approach to 
 
 civility is made by an eminent cheesemonger, who presents 
 
 his card with a ' Happy to see you, Mr. Vandyck, if at any 
 
 time you should come into the City,' Let me hope I shall 
 
IV. THE CHilBAUX OF EUBENS AND TENIEBS. 445 
 
 bring no such calamities on the present representative of the 
 Seigneurs of Steen, to which chateau I am going to tell 
 you the result of my own pilgrimage. May he continue to 
 enjoy in peace his pipe and his glass of 'Peetermans/ and 
 long reign, as at present, the honoured friend and patron of 
 all the crossbow shooters within the old-fashioned commune of 
 Elewyt. 
 
 You may walk to Steen either from Vilvorde or from 
 Mechlin. (I like the ' langue d'ya ' better than the ' langue 
 d'owi,' and ' Mechlin' calls up very different associations from 
 ' Malines.') It lies about midway between the two places, 
 though at some distance from the stone-paved, beech-bordered 
 road that passes through them towards Brussels. The plea- 
 santer way is perhaps that from Mechlin, along the banks 
 of the Louvain Canal, and then turning off among the fir 
 woods of the old chateau of . Scheplaken. Patches of open 
 heathery ground, and grassy paths iihrough the firs, with a 
 bit of Rubens-red sparkling here and there in the distance, in 
 the shape of some labourer's jacket, will bring you to the 
 village of Elewyt, with its guiding church-spire ; and close 
 by, a road, that turns down by a great oak tree, with an 
 image of ' Onze lieve Vrow' perched among its branches, 
 leads to the ' Casteel op Steen,' as the place is always called 
 by the villagers. 
 
 The house itself, however, is so thickly surrounded with 
 wood that you scarcely get a glimpse of it until close in 
 front. The approach leads straight through the farm, still, 
 as nearly as may be, of the same extent as when in the 
 possession of the great painter. It contains about thirty-five 
 ' hectares ' of the richest possible land : such green meadows, 
 dotted with such ' goodly Flemish cows,' the same black-and- 
 white breed that Ouyp and Paul Potter loved to paint, and 
 that still sparkles in the sunshine over all the lowlands of 
 Flanders and Brabant. Then comes a long narrow avenue 
 
446 SKETCHES AND STUDIES FEOM BELGIUM. 
 
 of limes and poplars, and after passing it, you find yourself 
 among tlie farm buildings of the chateau, of wMch even now 
 you can only catch a crenellated battlement here and there 
 between the trees. On the right is a mill with its dashing 
 water-wheel, where we must stop for a moment, for its history 
 is connected with that of the chateau. 
 
 The Castle of Steen was for some time the property of 
 Guymard, an architect of some reputation, and the builder 
 of the church of St. Jacques sur Ooudenberg, in the Place 
 Royale, at Brussels, fronting you as you ascend the Montague 
 de la Cour. Guymard had not the slightest respect for 
 Steen, either as an ancient stronghold, or as the favourite 
 campagne of Eubens. He pulled down the greater part of 
 the building, including a lofty square tower, the distinguish- 
 ing mark of a Braban9on slat or fortress ; and destroyed the 
 parks and pleasure-grounds which Rubens himself had 
 created : 
 
 Leaving an ancient dome, and towers like these, 
 Beggar'd and outraged. 
 
 It is satisfactory to be able to add that M. Guymard was 
 entirely ruined during his operations at Steen. Of all his 
 doings, nothing but the mill — ^which has some slight archi- 
 tectural ornament — now remains. Steen is now the property 
 of Baron Ooppens, of Antwerp, the reclaimer of vast tracts of 
 uncultivated land in the desolate Oampine; and the utmost 
 care is taken to prevent any further destruction or decay. 
 
 Steen, although still dignified with the name of casteel, 
 serves now only as a large farm-house. And yet, in spite 
 of its fallen condition, as you stand before the bridge that 
 crosses the moat, the front differs scarcely at all from 
 what it was in the time of Eubens. You may see it, just as 
 it is at present, in the well-known picture in our own Gallery, 
 with the exception of the high seigneurial tower which occurs in 
 the picture, and for the destruction of which we are indebted. 
 
IV. THE CHATEAUX OF EUBENS AND TENIBRS. 447 
 
 as I have already said, to M. Gruymard. Like every chateau 
 throughout the Netherlands, it is surrounded by a deep 
 moat, fed, as is the architect's mill, by a small canal from the 
 Veune, that passes by at no great distance. These dtangs 
 were trh poissonneuses, as my conductor assured me, and 
 most carefully attended to in the painter's time ; but are now 
 entirely neglected. Sword-leaved waterflags, and clusters 
 of purple loosestrife grow thick lyalong the sides ; and now 
 and tiien a solitary water-hen comes rustling through the 
 brushwood, and flits across the sleeping moat. In front of 
 the chateau, tall poplars and beeches rise up closely ; and the 
 weather-worn walls, spotted with lichens, and crested with 
 steep Flandrikan roofs, look out grey and picturesquely from 
 behind their screen of green leafage. An arched entrance 
 leads into a heavy square tower — the original ' Steen,' or 
 stronghold (the ' tower o' stane and lime ' of the old Scottish 
 ballads) ; and on either side are later additions, rambling and 
 irregular, the upper-windows of which are set in crow-step 
 gables. You cross the moat by a bridge of three arches, the 
 construction of Rubens himself, who replaced with it a pont- 
 levant, the hollows for the chains of which still remain. 
 Arbalist holes, too, look out at you from either side of the 
 tower as you pass. As the old iron-barred doors are 
 unfolded, you half expect to see the great painter, on his 
 stately Andalusian, come sweeping towards you over the 
 bridge, with his long train of attendants — dogs, Mconers and 
 all ; or his face seems to look down from the narrow window 
 of his atelier — ^that directly over the arch of the entrance. 
 The moat and the bridge and the guarded tower all indicate 
 a place- of strength, such as was not to be despised even in 
 the comparative quiet of Rubens' time, when bands of lawless 
 meters, or troops of Spanish horsemen, were still every now 
 and then passing across the country. 
 
 Beyond the bridge, you pass straight through the lower 
 
448 SKETCHES AND STUDIES FEOM BELGIUM. 
 
 story of the tower into what was once the inner court of the 
 castle, but is now a pleasant old-fashioned garden, with 
 beds of damask roses, clove pinks, and white lilies. Along 
 the walls of the old tower are trained figs and pear-trees, 
 covered when I saw them with clusters of ruddy fruit, such 
 as you may admire in some of Eubens' own pictures. There 
 is a peculiar vine, too, with a small parsley-like leaf, said to 
 have been brought to Steen by the great painter himself. 
 This garden stretches on beyond, with espalier walks and 
 cabinets de verdu/re, into what was the old plaisance of the 
 chMeau — still a garden, but only showing by a green mound 
 or two, or a trench led across from the moat, how stately 
 and decorated it has once been. There are two or three 
 Eubens portraits in which this plaisance of Steen, with its 
 balustrades and its peacocks, is made to play its part ; and 
 one, formerly in the collection of M. Schamp, of Ghent, 
 peoples the shady alleys too pleasantly not to be recalled 
 upon the scene itself. In the background are the crenells 
 and turrets of the chateau j and down one of the main walks 
 comes a group of Rubens' own children, the youngest riding 
 on a gigantic wolf-dog, which his sister leads by the collar. 
 There is many a more famous picture of his that one would 
 less care to possess. 
 
 You may enter the chateau from the garden, through a 
 door in the projecting staircase turret, running upward along 
 the side of the main tower ; first visiting, if you choose, the 
 vaults of the old fortress, — filled, no doubt, in the days of 
 Eubens, rather with Burgundy and Ehine-wine than with 
 any more warlike stores. The narrow stair winds up to the 
 floor above the entrance, where is. the painter's atelier ; and 
 then into the wide dusky greniers, crossed with heavy beams 
 of stout Brabant oak — a tree becoming every day rarer in 
 the country. All this part of the building is evidently of 
 great antiquity, and a stone chimney-piece in one of the 
 
IV. THE CHATEAUX OP BUBENS AKD TENIEES. 449 
 
 upper rooms may possibly be of the fourteenth century. The 
 porch chamber — said to have served as the painter's working- 
 room — ^is now entirely bare and dismantled. It is about 
 fifteen feet square, and is lighted by a single window, of 
 which the oaken shutters and worked iron fastenings still 
 remain. You may fancy him there busy on the garden 
 picture of his children, whilsf Yandenborcht or Justus 
 van Egmont read to him from Seneca or Plutarch, 
 according to his regular habit. It was in this room, in aU 
 probability, that he painted the noble landscape now in our 
 own Grallery ; but to judge of the scene itself, you must dimb 
 again above the atelier into the highest grenier, where flax- 
 seeds and sweet-scented garden herbs are spreading to dry, 
 and into which you pass among the traces of numberless 
 owls and pigeons that have taken common possession of 
 the peaked staircase turret. But cross the wide grenier, 
 unbar one of the closed shutters at the end, and before you 
 stretches away the vast cloud-swept landscape, just as in the 
 picture that Mr. Ruskin, as you will remember, singles out for 
 praise among all by which it is surrounded. To sit here, 
 with the picture itself beside you, would be such a lesson as 
 has fallen to the lot of few indeed among ' modern painters.' 
 Below, the scene has become so much closed up with wood 
 that the eye is prevented from ranging to any distance ; but, 
 looking from the top of the tower, it is still Rubens' own : 
 patches of wood and coppice, meadows spotted over with 
 cattle, corn-fields swept by cloud^shadows, poplars along the 
 streams, with gleams of farms, and white campagnes, and 
 mills, and church towers intermingling and crossing, and 
 passing more and more indistinctly into the far-away blue 
 distance, where, as the sun lights them up, you may catch 
 the many spires and towers of Mechlin rising against the sky. 
 That there may be beauty, and great beauty, with a perfectly 
 level landscape, you will scarcely doubt, after having once 
 
 29 
 
450 SKETCHES AND STUDIES FEOM BELGIUM. 
 
 looked over that scene — changing constantly, like the ocean, 
 with the cloud shadows that break and float across it. These 
 are the eflPects of light that Eubens so well knew how to seize 
 and how to vary.; witness the thick floating mist of the 
 Louvre, or the rainbow also there, or the sunrise shot through 
 the forest at Munich. But this is dangerous ground ; we 
 had better descend from the 'grenier, and look into the lower 
 apartments of the chateau. 
 
 Immediately to the right, on entering by the great doors 
 from the bridge, is a small antechamber, opening at one end 
 into a still smaller chapel. Here there yet remain an altar and 
 some of its ornaments, but all of much later date than the 
 time of Rubens. He is said, however, to have regularly at- 
 tended morning mass in this chapel, whilst the antechamber 
 was filled by his household. A curious but much-injured 
 landscape lies on an old cabinet in this antechamber. The 
 story is that of Oephalns and Procris ; and the picture itself 
 is said to be the work of one of Eubens' favourite pupils. It 
 is mainly interesting, however, from its having remained till 
 now in the house where possibly it was painted under the 
 master's own direction. On the opposite side of the entrance 
 passage lie the kitchens — stiU untouched and unaltered — of 
 no great size, but with wide, hospitable-looking fireplaces, 
 sufficient for the preparation of a goodly feast when Jordaens 
 or Quellyn came over from Antwerp, — or when a company 
 of the Archduke's courtiers rode across the country to visit 
 the great painter in his retirement. The light struggles 
 through the knotted window quarrels, and glimmers upon the 
 tall brass ' hanaps' and water-flagons just as it did then ; — the 
 unwelcome difierence is that you no longer hear the cook 
 scolding at his work, and that no pleasant savour of baked 
 pheasant or red-deer pasty comes curling up to greet the 
 nostrils of the hungry visitor. 
 
 The rooms in the remaining part of the building, although 
 
IV. THE CHATEAUX OP EUBENS AND TENIEES. 451 
 
 Jiearly the same externally, have all been altered within ; nor 
 are they in any way interesting, for the main corps de batimens 
 which occupied the inner court was pulled down by the archi- 
 tect Guymard. 
 
 It was only for the last four years of his life that Rubens 
 became Seigneur of Steen, and was in the habit of spending 
 his summers there. After his visits to England, Spain, and 
 Holland, when the painter condescended to employ his leisure 
 in playing the part of ambassador, — ^and after his second 
 marriage with Helena Forman in 1630, Rubens never left his 
 own country. He had laboured long and unremittingly, and 
 his frequent travels had not been without their own share of 
 hardship. The gout, too, tormented him not a httle ; and when, 
 in 1635, the Cardinal Ferdinand made Msjoyeuse entrie into 
 Antwerp, Rubens, who had designed all the magnificent tri- 
 umphal arches erected on the occasion, was unable to ride 
 through the town at the Cardinal's right hand, as had been at 
 first intended. From this time, amply laden with ' honour, 
 love, obedience, troops of friends' — he retired to Steen, rarely 
 visiting the Court or interfering in its afiairs. Rubens pur- 
 chased Steen from Jan Coels — an old Braban§on name — still 
 common in the district ; and the original papers, with his sig- 
 nature, are still carefully preserved at the ' Casteel.'* Here he 
 
 * A short time after his purchase, Rubens ■writes to Peiresc, excus- 
 ing his long silence . He had been, he says, for some months in a 
 ' villa ' of his, ' alquanto retirato della citta d'Anversa,' very secluded, 
 and at some distance from the main road, so that the receipt or 
 despatch of letters was equally difficult. ' I must not omit to tell 
 yon,' he goes on to say, ' that many ancient medals have been found 
 here, silver and bronze — the greater part of the time of the Antonines. 
 It was not of bad augury that the two first discovered were of Com- 
 modus and Marcus ; the reverses, " Spes et Victoria." ' The letter is 
 dated ' di Steen, il 4 di Settembre, 1636.' (Gachet, Lettres Inedites 
 de P. P. Bubens, p. 275.) The ' good augury ' must have been for his 
 future life at Steen. He did not neglect the ' provisioning ' of his 
 castle. ' II nous semble §trange,' he writes (August 17, 1638) to his 
 pupil, Lucas Fayd'herbe, ' que nous n'apprenions rien des bouteilles 
 
452 SKETCHES AND STUDIES FEOM BELGIUM. 
 
 spent alf his summers until Ma death in 1640, — still painting 
 vigorously, as we know by his catalogue and by the works 
 themselves; but principally occupying himself with landscapes 
 suggested by the quiet, pleasant country about him. ' Rubens,' 
 says M. Michiels, in his Histoire de la JPeinture Flamande et 
 Hollandaise, ' never mixed his labours. His different classes 
 of subject are kept perfectly distinct : but in his landscapes he 
 shows that the. absolute solitude of nature displeased him — at 
 least as contrasted with the great love of it manifested by the 
 earlier Flemings. Thus his love of life led him to fill every 
 portion of his landscapes with action.' But, with submission, 
 would it not be difficult to point out any early Flemish paint- 
 ing in which absolute solitude is depicted — deep and profound 
 as is the love of nature in them all ? And that the ' solitude 
 of nature' was very far from displeasing to the great painter 
 of ' The Descent' and ' The Adoration,' we know, not only 
 from the facts of his Kfe, but from the evidence of his pictures 
 themselves, — ^the grey ' dawn' of the Hermitage, for instance, 
 or the Munich ' sunrise' already mentioned. 
 
 It has generally been supposed that the great pictures at 
 Mechlin — ^the superb ' Adoration,' in the church of St. John,* 
 and ' The Miraculous Draught,' in that of N6tre Dame — were 
 painted at Steen ; and M. Michiels traces in the latter picture 
 more than usual labour and refinement, the results of his 
 summer retirement. But neither ' The Adoration,' nor 'The 
 
 de vin d'Ay ; car celui que nous avons apporte avec nous est d^j^ 
 §puisd . . . Rappelez^galement kGuillaume le jardinier (at Antwerp) 
 qu'il doit nous envoyer en leur temps des poires de Rosalie, et des 
 figues quand il y en aura, ou qnelque autre chose d'agreable.' 
 (Gaohet.) 
 
 * The original sketch for this picture — the finest of all Rubens' 
 many repetitions of the subject — was in Lord Bute's collection at 
 Luton. It was engraved by Vosterman, under Rubens' own care. 
 The sketch in crayons by one of Rubens' pupils, with his own 
 retouches, is now in the Mus^e at Paris. Unfortunately the light 
 in the church is bad, ^d it is difficult to get a good view of the 
 picture. 
 
IV. THE CHATEAUX OS" RUBENS AND TENIEBS. 453 
 
 Draught' — ^tie pride of the Mechlin Fishmongers' Guild, for 
 whom it was painted — -were in reality produced here. Both 
 were painted (as the accounts still preserved at Mechlin prove) 
 at Antwerp : the first in 1616, the latter in 1618, long before 
 Rubens had dreamt of becoming seigneur of Steen. His fre- 
 quent visits to Mechlin, as he passed through on his way to 
 Brussels, and possibly the neighbourhood of David Teniers, 
 who had already estabUshed himself at Drytoren, within a walk 
 of Steen, may have induced Rubens to settle there. Tradition, 
 too, asserts that Vandyke had a campagne in the adjoining 
 commune of Eppeghem, where the green mound on which 
 the house stood, encircled by the never-failing moat, is still 
 pointed out. A pleasant trio, indeed, with which to re-people 
 the lime avenues of Steen. But we are going to visit Teniers 
 at his own house, and must therefore leave the old * Casteel' 
 once more to its dreamy quiet, with the swallows flitting 
 about its gables, and its moat sleeping tranquilly in the sun- 
 shine. 
 
 Drytoren is not much more than ain English mile from 
 Steen. The walk is a very pleasant one ;— by cornfields and 
 patches of oaken coppice, fringed here and there with banks 
 of heather, now in full blossom. After leaving the woods of 
 Steen, the country becomes more open. It is here a wide 
 plain in full tillage, with farms and scattered trees about it, 
 and deeper woods bounding the horizon. In the distance rises 
 the square tower of Grrimberghen, with its memories of the 
 battle of the Cradle, and the fierce struggles of the Berthouts 
 — ^the old Lords of Mechlin — against the increasing power of 
 the Dukes of Brabant. Vilvorde, with its spires and its white 
 houses, looks' out cheerfully from its screen of trees ; and low 
 green hills sweep away beyond towards Laaken and Brussels. 
 Over all hangs the dome of the sky, now covered with grey 
 floating clouds, between which falls a gleam of sunshine, resi^ 
 ing upon the roofs of Drytoren. 
 
454 SKETCHES AND STUDIES PEOM BELGIUM. 
 
 Between Teniers' farm and Steen there is just as much 
 diiFerence as between the velyet and 'cloth of gold' of Rubens' 
 portraits and the ' cloth of frieze' of the joi/euse Kermesse. Dry- 
 toren, or ' the Three Towers/ was never a chateau of any great 
 size or importance ; and whereas Steen lorded it in solitary 
 dignity over the commune of Elewyt, Drytoren was eclipsed 
 by the magnificent domain of Perok, whose towers and ter- 
 races and_ clipped avenues you may see represented, with all 
 the honour due to them, in the old ' Delices de Brabant.' 
 Rubens, too, still reigns supreme at Steen. His is the great 
 memory of the place, and the whole district is proud of his con- 
 nexion with it. Teniers has fared differently at Drytoren. 
 Though all the country round speaks of him — ^for you see his 
 farms, and his trees, and his peasants at every step and at 
 every turn — ^his very name is unknown to the worthy 'boer' 
 and 'boerinne' who preside over the farmyards and the dairies 
 of what was once his own abiding place. The house itself has 
 all but disappeared. Of the ' three towers,' only one remains. 
 This is the gate tower ; no work of ' lime and stane,' but of 
 rough timber, high and square, with a ' broken-backed' steep 
 roof and ornamented weather boards — a form constantly 
 recurring in Teniers' pictures. The under part forms a low 
 wooden archway, opening into the court ; and above it is a 
 single room, for the sake of which the tower was probably 
 spared when all the rest was destroyed — for it was the artist's 
 painting room. The farm building within is large and sub- 
 stantial, and of some age, having about it all the accompani- 
 ments of a wealthy cultivator ; but no part is of Teniers' time. 
 It was long past mid-day when we entered — and ' the house did 
 keep itself;' there was no one within, and no sounds without, but 
 such as came from the distant fields, and the cooing of multi- 
 tudes of pigeons, sunning themselves on the roofs of Teniers' 
 atelier. Alongside the farm stretched a level of bright 
 green turf, scattered over with walnuts and apple trees ; and 
 
rV. THE CHItEATJX 01' EUBENS AND TENIEES. 455 
 
 beyond, through their stems, a cornfield, with waggons and 
 horses ; the sun chequering and changing over all. Leave was 
 to be taken, since none could be asked ; so we unbarred a 
 door at the foot of the tower, and cUmbed up into the room 
 where sundry of those ' magots' were produced that Louis, le 
 grand Monarque, found so little to his liking, but of which 
 George, le premier gentilhomme, approved so highly. It is now 
 merely a grenier, about fifteen feet square, lighted by a single 
 window, and with rude crossing beams of oak above and at the 
 sides. The spaces between the beams have been covered with 
 a paper ; and it is said that no long time since rough sketches 
 and ' scratches' were to be traced here and there on the boards. 
 All has disappeared now ; and you must draw on your own 
 stores for the picture of ' Teniers at work in his tower.' The 
 dark crossing beams and the rough walls, the casement shut- 
 ters thrown back, and the cheerful, sunny plain seen beyond 
 them, would make the best of all possible frames for Myn- 
 heer David's figure — ^not to be decked in velvet and gold 
 chains like that of his more stately neighbour, although, as 
 chambellan of the Archduke Leopold, he might display his 
 golden key (in an engraving of him by Vosterman, nearly as 
 large as that of a house door) whenever he thought fit. 
 
 We were still in the tower when the farmer's wife came in 
 from the fields, wondering not a little at the unexpected inva- 
 sion of her territories. But ' perhaps Mynheers were fond of 
 pigeons, and had climbed up to see them ; there were some 
 very rare sorts. Not the pigeons? Ah, yes ; she had heard 
 that some one used formerly to paint in the tower. Was it 
 either 'of the Mynheers themselves ?' Such is the reputation 
 of David Teniers at Drytoren ; and yet, as the good ' Vrow' 
 sat there on the ground in front of the tower, with her baby 
 in her arms, and the sun streaming upon her bright blue 
 jacket, her close cap and red handkerchief, she looked like 
 a figure cut out of his own joyeuse Kermesse. 
 
456 
 
 SKETCHES AND STUDIES FROM BELGIUM. 
 
 Teniers fixed himself early at Drytoren. He had already 
 been a pupil of Eubens (a daughter of whose friend, Breughel, 
 he had married), and had obtained considerable reputation. 
 But his pictures at first were not readily disposed of. He was 
 obliged to take them himself to Brussels ; and it was not imtil 
 he had (partly, we may believe, by Rubens' assistance) obtained 
 the notice of the Court that he began to take his true position 
 in the world. From that time, indeed, he rose rapidly. Half 
 the dignitaries of Spain and of the Low Countries were con- 
 stant visitors at the old pointed-roofed chateau. The Arch- 
 duke John of Austria himself became his pupil, and is said 
 to have not only visited him at Drytoren, but to have painted 
 one of his children as a special mark of honour — for, of course 
 there can be no such thing as a bad portrait from an arch- 
 ducal hand. Two gigantic black eagles, compliments to the 
 House of Austria, were to be seen not long since on the fold- 
 ing doors of the gate tower. They are said to have been 
 painted by Teniers himself j but doors and aU have now 
 disappeared. 
 
 Long after Rubens had been laid to rest in St. Jacques, 
 and after Steen had passed into other hands, .Teniers was still 
 preserving the art distinction of the district at Drytoren, — 
 having succeeded also to his great master as President of the 
 Guild of St. Luke. Among, the closest of his friends was 
 Antoine Triest, the excellent Bishop of Ghent ; a fact which 
 sufficiently attests the blameless character of the artist's own 
 life. One piece of information, moreover, patronised by all 
 the Guide-Books, must not be passed over here. All, French 
 and English, agree in informing the world that at Termonde, 
 between Ghent and Mechlin, Teniers married his third wife ; 
 and that the house in which he lived is still to be seen there, 
 together with some curious relics of the marriage. The whble 
 of this statement, third wife and all, has arisen from a singu- 
 lar mistake which has only very recently been cleared up, — 
 
IV. THE ChItEAUX OF RUBENS AND TENIEES. 467 
 
 too recently for the benefit of the Guide-Books. There is 
 unquestionably in Termonde a house which was inhabited by 
 David Teniers ; and there is preserved in it a picture of a 
 marriage 'tribulation,' with Flemish couplets at the foot 
 relating to the same David Teniers, who is named in them. 
 In the picture, the bridegroom is attempting to climb into his 
 chamber by a ladder, and is prevented by his companions 
 below ; whilst the bride holds her arms out to him through 
 the window bars. It is dated August 4th, 1671, and is signed 
 J. E. Q., — no doubt Jean Erasmus Quellyn, AH this seemed 
 reasonably enough to confirm the universal tradition that 
 Teniers had married a third wife at Termonde ; and it was 
 not until some one thought of examining the records of the 
 town, that the true explanation was discovered. There it 
 was found that, on the 4th of August, 1671, David Teniers 
 of Brussels and Anna Maria Bonaerents were married in the 
 presence of Mynheer David Teniers, Chamhellan of the Arch- 
 dukes Leopold and John of Austria, and of Jean Erasmus 
 Quellyn. It is guessed that this David was the son of 
 Abraham Teniers — ^also a painter and engraver, living at 
 Brussels, and the brother of David of Drytoren.* 
 
 Teniers lies buried in the little church of Perck, whose spire 
 rises among the beeches on the other side of the plain. The 
 village is pleasant and picturesque, vnth gabled houses and 
 low-roofed cabarets, interspersed with old, wide-branched 
 walnut trees. It is fiill of Tenierses — interiors and exteriors. 
 Almost every window is a picture ; and as you look through 
 
 * Madou ; Scenes de la Vie des Pemtres de I'Ecole Fla/momde et 
 HoUandaise. The entry in the Termonde records runs thus : — ' 1671. 
 Aug. ,4. Habita dispensations super proolamationibus, junoti sunt 
 matrimonio David Teniers, Bruxellensis, et Anna Maria Bonaerents, 
 puella Teneramundana ; praesentibus Dnis Davide Teniers, k cubiculis 
 ArohducibuB Leopoldo et Joanni Austriaois, et Joanne Erasmo 
 Quellyno, et Joanna van Calan dries, et me pastore. Signat. J. 
 B. Taelman.' 
 
458 SKETCHES AND STUDIES FEOM BELGIUM. 
 
 the open doors you may see groups of strangely fashioned 
 shining brass vessels, ■with wrinkled, red-jacketed vrows at 
 work about them ; the cat sleeping in the sun, and the old 
 'housefather' resting in his high-backed chair by the open 
 hearth, — -just the same as you have admired fifty times before; 
 or there is a group drinking and card-playing before the door 
 of a cabaret, whilst a grand old walnut tree rustles in the 
 breeze beside them ; and away, beyond the houses, a mill on 
 its green mound, with its sails sweeping round in the sunshine. 
 Unfortunately we just missed the Kermesse of Perck ; it had 
 taken place the week before our visit ; and so the finest oppor- 
 tunity of all for seeing Teniers' pictures was lost. The church 
 has no architectural character ; and its most important distinc- 
 tion has, I am sorry to say, lately been removed during the 
 building of a new aisle. The domus ultima of the family of 
 Teniers was marked by a flat stone slab, on which was a short 
 inscription in Flemish. This is no longer to be seen, nor 
 could I ascertain what had become of it. The only relic of 
 the painter still remaining in the church, is a figure of the 
 Crucified Saviour within a large wreath of flowers. The 
 figure alone is his. The flowers are most probably by his 
 friend Seghers. A larger and more important Teniers — I 
 believe a Saint Dominic — which is mentioned as having been 
 in the church of Perck, seems also to have disappeared. 
 
XI 
 
 A PILGRIMAGE TO ST. DAYID'S.* 
 
 rr^HE halidom of a great saint is always a district of more 
 -*- than usual interest. Its architectural relics are fre- 
 quently of striking character and of great antiquity. Cus- 
 toms and ceremonies, forgotten elsewhere, often linger about 
 the shrine with which they were once connected, shattered and 
 even destroyed as that may be ; and above all, the country is 
 certain to contain those early and picturesque traditions which, 
 however they may have arisen, connect the saint and his story 
 with the surrounding natural features, the hUls, the rocks, and 
 the streams. Local folk-lore, having its roots far back in the 
 soil of heathenism, has almost always been gathered into and 
 made a portion of the religious legend. History again, and 
 lier handmaid geography, nowhere reflect such light on one 
 another as in such a district. 
 
 There is no such ' terra sanota ' in any part of Great Britain, 
 perhaps none in Christendom, more remarkable than Dewis- 
 land, as the hundred is called — the land of Dewi (the Welsh 
 form of David) — a territory which, Hke Ireland, aU noxious 
 creatures are forbidden to enter, though it is said that in this 
 respect the power of the saint is losing somewhat of its ancient 
 force. The land of the great patron of Wales, the only Welsh 
 or Cornish saint who has received a formal place in the calen- 
 dars of the Western Church, is in itself so wild and isolated, 
 the coast which bounds it is one of such surpassing grandeur, 
 * Fraser's Magomne, April, 1871. 
 
460 A PILGEIMAGE TO ST. DAVID'S. 
 
 and the mysterious relics of days far more primitive than those 
 of the saint — cromlechs, rude stone shafts, and chff castles — 
 are here so numerous, that these attractions would alone be 
 suiEcient to draw the antiquary or the lover of nature to the 
 promontory of St. David's — with the exception of the Land's 
 End, the most westerly headland of Great Britain. But to 
 these must be added the historical interest of the district, the 
 traces yet hngering in it of the real St. David, besides those 
 which mark his legendary story ; and the wonderful group of 
 buildings over which the cathedral presides, clustered in the 
 hollow of . a wild valley and backed by rocky hiUs of true 
 mountainous outline. The place was always remote and diffi- 
 cult of access, and the toils and dangers encountered by 
 pilgrims to the shrine gave rise to the saying that two visits to 
 St. David's equalled the merit of one visit to Rome : 
 
 Meneviam pete bis, Roman adire si vis, 
 
 ^qua merces tibi redditur hie et ibi. 
 
 Eoma semel quantum dat bis Menevia tantum. 
 
 A glance at the map will show at once the extreme westerly 
 position of St. David's. It is the point at which the British 
 coast approaches most nearly to that of Ireland, and the 
 outlines of the Wioklow hills are occasionally seen across the 
 Channel, here not quite fifty miles in breadth. St. David's 
 Head, the Octopitarum of Ptolemy, is itself the northernmost 
 point of a broad promontory, separating the beautiful Bay of 
 St. Bride's from that of Abereiddy. The coast of the promon- 
 tory is broken into numerous small bays and inlets, guarded 
 by lofty walls of rock, the dark colour of which contrasts finely 
 with the Surf that breaks against them. These rocks, which 
 belong to the Cambrian series, the most ancient sedimentary 
 rocks known to geologists, and which extend throughout 
 Dewisland, indicate that the territory of St. David has existed 
 as an island in more than one primaeval sea, when (except the 
 few points at which they also appear — only in Wales, and at 
 
A PILGBIMAGE TO ST. DAVID's. 461 
 
 the Prawle and Bolt, the extreme southern headlands of Devon- 
 shire) the rest of Britain was still in course of formation 
 beneath the waves. The surface formed by the Cambrian 
 rocks is comparatively level ; but over the district, sometimes 
 parallel with the coast, yet extending far inland, masses of 
 igneous rock, greenstones, and porphyries have broken 
 upwards and form rocky eminences, of no very great height, 
 but occasionally, as in Cam Llidi, of the grandest and boldest 
 outline, resembling in general character the granite tors that 
 rise from the high table-land of Dartmoor. The open country 
 is intersected by deep valleys, through which streamlets 
 find their way to the sea, the most important of which are 
 the Solva and the Alan. The latter is the river on which 
 stands the Cathedral of St. David's. 
 
 The character of the country is seen at once from one of the 
 rocky heights, and best of all from the peaked, jagged Carn 
 LUdi — ^the ' rock of the black lion,' or the ' rock of the black 
 host,' as the name is variously interpreted. It is a wide-hori- 
 zoned district — for the eye ranges over half Pembrokeshire, 
 including the farther coast of St. Bride's Bay, and seaward 
 looks straight across to Ireland. The bare landscape, treeless, 
 but with good com land ; the lines of stone enclosures ; the 
 brown moors, with their masses of broken rock and water 
 plashes ; the blown sands, and the ' grisly, fiendy rockes blake ' 
 of the coast recal the scenery of the Orkneys, of the remoter 
 parts of Britanny and Cornwall, and still more of the western 
 coast of Scotland. In common with all similar regions, and 
 partly owing to its monotonous landward colouring, Dewisland 
 has a grave, half-sad expression, which, toward the twilight of 
 a stormy day, is greatly increased by the whitened walls and 
 roofs of the scattered farms. The slated roofs are said to be 
 preserved and strengthened by this whitening and are thus 
 better able to withstand the strong winds that constantly 
 sweep over the country. The air, bracing as it is, is soft and 
 
462 A PILGEIMAGE TO ST. DAVID's. 
 
 f xquisitely pure. There is little or no frost. Yerj large 
 hydrangeas display their pink and blue flowers within the stone 
 walls of many a cottage garden, and the ilex, where it has been 
 planted, grows to a considerable size. This mildness of cli- 
 mate, if we are to believe that it existed at the earlier periods 
 of the historical era, cannot have been without its influence on 
 the primitive settlement of the coast, and may partly account 
 for the many 'cyttiau,' or hut-circles, enclosures, and cliff 
 castles, which bear witness to a considerable ancient popula- 
 tion. It may well be remembered, too, in considering the lives 
 of the first Christian solitaries and ascetics, among whom 
 was St. David himself, who founded their oratories in this 
 remote district. 
 
 Such a country as this, wild and bare as it is, is one of those 
 over which the sky-changes are most numerous and impressive. 
 Every cloudlet, or the faintest break of hght, produces its 
 effect ; and turning seaward, where the monotony of colouring 
 at once disappears, nothing can exceed the beauty of the vary- 
 ing light and shadow, the half-veiling mists and the bursts of 
 sunshine, as they follow each other along the lines of the rocky 
 headlands and far over the open sea. From Oarn Llidi the 
 whole extent of coast is in sight, beyond a foreground of heath 
 and fern, strewn with rocky fragments, and stretching away to 
 the dark cliffs of St. David's Head, marked by its stone ram- 
 part, ' Clawd-y-milwyr ' — the ' Warrior's Dyke ' — ^within which 
 rise foundations of huts, cushioned with sea pink, and whitened 
 by foam flakes carried by the wind across the headland. Here 
 it is seen that off the whole coast lie numerous rocky islands- 
 The largest and most important is Ramsey, with a fine moun" 
 tainous outline, and a range of cliff precipices on its seaward 
 front, haunted in spring and summer by myriads of sea-birds, 
 whose eggs are taken with as much zeal as in Norway or the 
 Faroe Islands, and with hardly less difficulty. Seals.frequent 
 the caverns at the base of the cliffs ; and it is said that no long 
 
A PILGRIMAGE TO ST. DAVID's. 463 
 
 time since as many as forty, young and old, were taken in one 
 night, after a net had been stretched across the mouth of the 
 cave. These cliff ranges are grander than those of the main- 
 land ; but they are less dangerous to seamen than the smaller 
 rocks which lie off the north side of Bamsey, known as ' The 
 Bishop and his Clerks' — of course with a reference to the 
 neighbouring ' bishopstool ' of St. David's. Ringed with surf, 
 they rise black and splintered, and ' are not withoute some 
 small quiristers, who shewe not themselves but at spring tydes 
 and calme seas. . . . The Bishop and these his Olerkes preache 
 deadly doctrine to their winter audience, such poor seafaring 
 men as are forcyd thether by tempest ; onlie in one thing they 
 are to be commended, they keep residence better than the rest 
 of the canons of that see are wont to do.'* The Sound of 
 Ramsey, between the island and the mainland, is filled with 
 dangerous currents and eddies, and is not always easy of 
 crossing. Beyond the island stretches away the Dewisland 
 coast, with its headlands, its narrow ' porths ' or havens, and 
 its solitary ruined chapels, all connected with St. David, and 
 at aU of which seamen were accustomed to make offerings. 
 Then follows the sweep of St. Bride's Bay ; and off the main- 
 land, at its southern point, the islands of Skomar and Skog- 
 holm — recalling the Danes and Norsemen by whom for more 
 than one century they were frequented, and from whom they 
 received their present names. Against the horizon, on the 
 farther shore of St. Bride's Bay, rise the ruined towers of 
 Roche Castle, one of the many strongholds raised by the Nor- 
 man conquerors for securing the subjection of South Wales. 
 Thus the view from Carn Llidi presents existing relics, and 
 suggests recollections, of the different races who have at vari- 
 ous times possessed and frequented the district. The heathen 
 Northmen paid little reverence to St. David or his cathedral. 
 
 * From Owen's MS., quoted in Fenton's PenibrokeMre. Alight- 
 house has been erected on the south Bishop rook. 
 
,464 A PILaBIMAGE TO ST. DAVID's. 
 
 More than once they plundered the church and the ' House of 
 the Clerks ;' but it is probable that the shrine of the great 
 Welsh saint formed a certain bond of union between the 
 Welshmen of Dyfed and their Norman lords, and that the 
 common reverence paid to itVas not without effect in briug- 
 ing the two races into better harmony — so far as such 
 harmony was ever attained. 
 
 In this wild country, low in the hollow of the valley, the 
 upper part of its tower just visible from Carn Llidi, and the 
 stream of the Alan almost washing its western front, stands 
 the great cathedral — ' Ty Dewi,' as it was called — ^the ' House 
 of David ; ' regarded for long ages by all true Welshmen as 
 the most sacred spot in Britain. There are two very striking 
 views, from the north-east and the south-east, of the cathedral 
 and the group of surrounding buildings. Upon each of these 
 views the stranger comes almost suddenly, owing to the steep 
 fall of the river valley. Some trees cluster round the church 
 on its north side, and, from their absence elsewhere, give an 
 additional charm to the scene. In front extends the cathe- 
 dral, chiefly dating from the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, 
 though the upper part of its, tower, and nearly all its window 
 tracery, built and inserted at a later period, give a Decorated 
 character to its general exterior. The Lady chapel and ad- 
 joining portions are still in picturesque ruin. The restoration 
 of the main body of the church, its nave and choir, is rapidly 
 advancing. That of the choir and presbytery is complete. 
 The nave, of transitional architecture, with a range of lofty cle- 
 restory arches much enriched, and with an elaborate oaken 
 roof of the fifteenth century, which for the grace and intri- 
 cacy of its peculiar ornament has no parallel in this country, 
 is gradually recovering its ancient dignity and beauty. The 
 warm colour of the stone of which the cathedral is built 
 throughout combines with the richness of ornament to give an 
 unusual air of completion to the interior. The eye does not 
 
A PILGRIMAGE TO ST. DAVID's. 465 
 
 Seek, as elsewhere, for the additional decorations of fresco and 
 polychrome ; and even the bright hues of stained glass are riot 
 in too sharp contrast with the purples and dark greys of the 
 sandstone. This stone, belonging to the ancient Cambrian 
 rocks before mentioned, is brought from Caerfae, one of the 
 most picturesque of the many small bays that indent the 
 shore. No other important building in Great Britain is 
 built of such primitive stone. Its use gives an additional 
 and a fitting distinction to St. David's. 
 
 A gatehouse, with an enormous octagonal tower, so vast 
 that, as has been suggested with much probability, it may 
 have served as a campanile, opens to the Close from the crest 
 of the hiU. In the level of the valley and across the river, but 
 closely adjoining the cathedral, with which it groups in every 
 view, are the ruins of the bishop's palace — a vast and once 
 magnificent structure, with a central court or quadrangle, 
 now turfed with the brightest green sward, and a hall not un- 
 worthy of the most princely prelates. The composition bears 
 ample testimony to the taste and architectural skill of Bishop 
 Grower, by whom the palace was built in the reign of Edward 
 m. Its outer walls are crested by a parapet of open arches, 
 most striking in the ruined condition of the palace, and espe- 
 cially by moonlight. The architectural group is- completed 
 by the chapel of St. Mary's College, on the north side of the 
 cathedral. This, like the palace, is a ruin ; but the walls, 
 with a lofty and slender tower, remain entire, and contribute 
 additional varieties of outline to the wonderful assemblage of 
 buildings. No familiarity seems to lessen their effect. The 
 lonely situation ; the wild background ; the picturesque group- 
 ing, and the rich details, especially of the palace ; the sharp 
 contrast of the stately cathedral with the ferny hiU-side close 
 at hand, and the green river holms dotted with black cattle ; 
 the exquisite colouring — ^grey, ruined, ivied walls, haunted 
 by myriads of jackdaws, and tufted with pink valerian ; the 
 
 30 
 
466 A PILGBIMAGE TO ST. DAYID's. 
 
 clear atmosphere, and the great arch of sky — day after day all 
 these are seen and enjoyed with fresh delight and increasing 
 wonder. The most unquestioning and least 'historical' of 
 minds can hardly help asking how it happened that such a 
 cathedral and such a group of buildings were raised in this 
 extreme corner of the land ; or desiring to know something 
 more of the saint whose ' house' it is, and to whose shrine 
 pilgrims onee found their way from all parts of Christen- 
 dom. 
 
 Before attempting to trace, so far as that is possible, the 
 history of St. David, it will be well to re-enter the church, and, 
 like those earlier pilgrims, to visit what still remains of the 
 shrine. The shrine of a great saint usually consisted of at least 
 three very distinct portions : (1) the stone base or foundation, 
 a sort of altar tomb, on which rested, (2) the feretory or por- 
 table shrine, plated with gold Or silver, enriched with jewels, 
 and containing the actual relics of the saint. The feretory 
 was ordinarily hidden by (3) a lofty covering of wood, carved 
 and illuminated, which was raised by means of a pulley when- 
 ever the shrine was exhibited. The most usual position for a 
 shrine of great importance was at the back of the high altar, 
 between that and the extreme eastern end of the church. The 
 shrines, for example, of St. Thomas at Canterbury and of the 
 Confessor in Westminster Abbey were thus placed. In the 
 - Cathedrals of Llandaff and of St. David's, however, it does 
 not appear that the shrines of St. Teilo or St. David occupied 
 this position at any time. At Llandaff the shrine of St. Teilo 
 most probably stood on the south side of the presbytery. At 
 St. David's the shVine of the patron saint of Wales was on the 
 north side of the presbytery, occupying the whole of the 
 second bay counting from the west. What now remains of 
 the shrine is only the stone foundation on which the feretory 
 rested, This consists, towards the presbytery, of a table rest- 
 ing on three low pointed arches, with deep quatrefoils in 
 
i HLGEIMAGE TO ST. DAVID* S. 467 
 
 the spandrels. Three early English arches, in which anciently 
 were painted figures of St. David, St. Patrick, and St. Denis, 
 rise at the hack of the tahle, and divide it from the aisle. The 
 wall of the shrine toward the aisle has at the base three round- 
 headed arches, and quatrefoils in the upper part. There can 
 be no doubt that what we now see is part of the shrine begun 
 by Bishop Richard de Carew in 1275 ; and it was before it, 
 then in all its fresh spleiidour, that Edward I. aftd his queen 
 Eleanor paid their vows and made their offerings when they 
 visited St. David's in 1284, after the famous subjectiori of the 
 Welsh princes. The quatrefoils in front and at the back of the 
 ishrine are now partly closed; but they seem to have been once 
 sufficiently open to admit the passage of the hand into a small 
 space at the back of each, in which offerings were deposited. 
 No long time since, stones remained in the aisle, indented by the 
 knees of the long train of pilgrims who century after century 
 had prayed there. In 1086, after the first translation of St. 
 David, the date of which is uncertain, his feretory or portable 
 shrine was stolen from the church, carried out of the ' dinas' 
 or city, and broken up, of course for the sake of its gold and 
 jewels. Of the fate of the later feretory nothing is known ; 
 nor are we anywhere told what became of the relics of St. 
 David in the sixteenth century. The shrine was carried in 
 solemn processions by the chantry priests ; and the burgesses 
 of St. David's were bound in time of war to follow the bishop 
 with it for one day's journey. It does not appear that on any 
 occasion the shrine was conveyed beyond the limits of the 
 halidom. 
 
 The shrine of St, David was especially frequented by pil- 
 grims from all parts of Wales ; and it is somewhat remarkable 
 that while certain of the saints' wells on the coast retain some 
 portion of their ancient honour, no tradition is connected with 
 the resting-place of the great saint, and no relic of the reve- 
 rence once paid to it yet Hngers. It is remembered that, not 
 
468 A PILGRIMAGE TO' ST. DAVm'Si 
 
 many years sincej an offering of money was plaeed ia one- of 
 the quatreMled openings by a stranger who knelt before the 
 shrine, and who, as it was believed, was ' a great lord' on a 
 pilgrimage of penitence ; but the last vestige of local reve- 
 rence seems to have died out about the beginning of the 
 present century. At that, time two old sisters,, wh© lived at 
 a farm-house in the neighbourhood, when they visited the 
 Cathedral on Good Friday used to put off their ' dogs' or 
 wooden shoes,, at the top of the steps leading to the charcb- 
 yard, and to walk barefooted down them into the church. In 
 this manner pilgrims formerly approached the shrine. No 
 such tradition of reject now clings to it. But, little honoured 
 as St. David may be in his own countfy, we may well pause 
 with reverence before the place so long regarded as that of his 
 rest. Setting aside the legend that has grown up round his 
 name, enough of truth is discoverable through the mists of 
 antiquity to assure us that the prominence formerly assigned 
 to him was not misplaced. From the school of learning and 
 religion established here by him were sent forth some of the 
 best and most active of the Irish missionary saints. If it be 
 impossible to tread ' the barren rocks of lona' without emo- 
 tion, the old land of St. David, whence came the traditions 
 and the teaching that St. Columbkille carried northward, may 
 be regarded with at least an equal interest. 
 
 The Life of St. David was compiled from ancient sources, 
 as it is asserted, and probably within the last decade of the 
 eleventh century, by Rhyddmarch, bishop of the see. Rhydd- 
 march's Life was re-written in more classic style, ' scholas- 
 ticostilo,' by Giraldus Cambrensis, the famous Archdeacon of 
 Brecknock ; and one or two more lives of the saint, of less 
 importance, are in existence. All, however, are founded on 
 that by Rhyddmarch, which, whatever amount of truth it may 
 contain, is so fiull of palpable legend that it can only be 
 accepted as recording the belief held about St. David at 
 
A JPILGBIMAGKE TO ST. DATED'S. 469 
 
 &e time it was written. Firom otter sources we glean the 
 few facts of his history which may be looked upon as fairly 
 ascertained.* 
 
 It is impossible to fix with certainty any date in the life 
 of St. David. AcotMrding to tthe Armales Cambrioe he held a 
 Gounoil in the year 569, and died in 601. These dates are 
 probably accm-ate. Th^ haiaBoniseisafficiently well with other 
 and contemporaiy statements; and we may fairly enough 
 segard the period between about 530 aind 601 as that in which 
 St. Pavid lived. Hiroughout this period the Enghsh con- 
 quest was in progress. Hie kingdom of Wessex had gradu- 
 ally jmaihed forward its boundaries ; and between the years 
 577 and 584 it advanced to tlie Seinem, thus separating the 
 Welsh principalities from the still British Damnonia, then com- 
 prisii:^ Somerset, Deyon, aaad Cornwall. The British CShurch, 
 during this time of conijuest land ©f narrowing dominion, un- 
 derwent many ichanges. It is probable that in the later days 
 of the Bamams, and for a short time afterwards, ithere was an 
 episcopal see at Caerlecm cm Usk, presiding over the whole 
 proiviiaoe of Britannia :Secunda, the modem Wales. After the 
 Hi^lish conquests had narrowed the British border, the con- 
 dition of Wades became igreaitly altered. The principalities of 
 Gwynedd, of FowySjiof Dyfed, and of Gwent arose ; and soon 
 afterwards an episcopal see was established in eaoh princi- 
 pality, ^e limits of the diocese and of the principality being 
 identical. TShe ancient see at Caerleon became extinct ; and 
 tire whole change was thus one iirom Boman io British orga- 
 
 * The most complete, and indeed exhaustive, work on St. David's, 
 to which all subsequent writers are largely indebted, is Messrs. Jones 
 and Freeman's fltsfori/ amd AictiquAties of St. David's— a, quarto volume 
 published in 1856. Material for the early history of the. see has .been 
 carefully brought together in the first volume of Councils amd Eccle- 
 dagtieal Doewments rdaUmg to Great S/tUam amd Irelamd, .edited by 
 Messrs. Haddan .& Stubbs (1869). Dr. lodd's Ufe of jSt. Ealniok 
 (1864) contains many incidental notices of great value. 
 
470, A PILGEIMAGE TO ST. DATId'S. 
 
 uisation, The four sees thus established were those which still 
 exist in Wales — Bangor, St. Asaph, St. David's, and Llandaff. 
 St. David was himself the founder and the first bishop of the 
 see which bears his name. 
 
 The lives of St. David make him the son of Sannde, son of 
 Ceredig, one of those chieftains, perhfl,ps of Strathclyde, who 
 drove the Irish Picts from Wales. Ceredig gave his own 
 name to Cardiganshire, and Welsh genealogists traced his 
 descent from a sister of the Yirgin Mary.* The mother of 
 David, according tq the same authorities, was Nonna or 
 Non, descended like his father from the royal race. These 
 genealogies are to be regarded with the utmost suspicion^ 
 but they are probably truthful in so far as they make David 
 a native of his own district, That Dewisland is full of sites 
 associated with the life of David does not perhaps prove 
 much, The traditional scene of his birth is marked by a well 
 and ruined chapel dedicated to his mother St. Non. They 
 are distant but a few yards from each other, and are placed 
 on the slope of a green combe, a little above the edge of the 
 cliifs that stretch northward from Caerfae. In front opens 
 the bay ; and at the back the combe rises and folds round, 
 eo that the place has what shelter is attainable on so exposed 
 a coast, The well is covered with a plain barrel vault, which 
 was restored during the last century. At the side is a square 
 recess, in which may have been deposited such oflFerings of 
 ' pins and pebbles ' as were formerly made. Ferns tufted in 
 the wall hang over the water, which is still held to be of 
 great virtue in the cure of certain disorders. The chapel, a 
 small parallelogram, like some of the earliest Irish oratories, 
 has large and rude blocks of stone in its foundations. Be- 
 neath the altar, according to the story in Ehyddmarch's Life, 
 
 * The genealogy is given in the 'Buchedd Dewi Sant,' a Welsh 
 Life of St. David, printed in Bees' Lives of the Cambro-British Samts, 
 1853. 
 
A PILGBIMAGE TO ST. DAVID's. 47i 
 
 was a part of a stone which leaped from the head of St. Non 
 to her feet at the birth of David. Another well which had 
 once a great celebrity is in the valley of the Alan, a little 
 above the place where it opens to the sea. The spring, which 
 burst from the ground to supply water for the baptism of St. 
 David, changed once or twice according to the Lives, with 
 due consideration for its nationality, into mead or metheglin. 
 The chief place in the district, however, was ' Yr Henllwyn' 
 or ' H^n Mynyw,' the ' old bush.' There St. David ' was 
 taught the psalms and the lessons and the public prayers ; ' 
 and there his fellow disciples saw 'a pigeon with a golden 
 beak instructing him and playing about him.' Afterwards 
 he became a scholar in the so-called ' college ' of Paulinus, 
 at Whitland in Caermarthenshire. Paulinus or ' Paol h^n '■ 
 (the old) was, according to Welsh hagiology, one of the great 
 teachers of his age J and Teilo, the saint of Llandaff, is 
 mentioned as one of David's fellow-disciples. Such state- 
 ments can only be received with hesitation ; but the existence 
 of Paulinus, at any rate, seems to be confirmed by the 
 inscription on a stone found near Llandewi-Brefi in Cardigan- 
 shire, which commemorates a person of that name in two 
 rough hexameters : 
 
 Servator fidaei, Patrieque semper amator 
 Hie PaulinuB iacit cultor pientissimus aequi. 
 
 Tradition (not the Lives) farther asserts that David became 
 bishop or archbishop of Caerleon ; and that, owing to the 
 ' too great frequency of people ' there, and to the neighbour- 
 hood of the Pagan English, he removed the see t o Mynyw 
 Latinised into Menevia, the site of the present Cathedral. 
 
 ' Mynyw' signifies a * bramble bush ; ' and the name is so 
 far appropriate that the wild land round St. David's is still 
 famous for its bramble berries. The present St. David's 
 became afterwards known as Menevia, but the older settle- 
 ment was at some little distance, although in the immediate 
 
472 A PILGEIMAGE TO ST. DAVID'S. 
 
 neighbourhood. Wherever it was, it has been regarded by 
 Stukeley and many later antiquaries, as the site of the Roman 
 Menapia, which Stukeley made the birthplace of the famous 
 Oarausius — thus ' venturing,' in his own words, ' to restore 
 to St. David's one true Briton more.' Unfortunately the exis- 
 tence of Menapia is only made known to us by an Iter in the 
 de Situ BritannicB attributed to Richard of Cirencester, a w6rk 
 which the ablest modern investigators, including the editor 
 of Richard's Speculum Historiale, pronounce unhesitatingly to 
 be a clumsy forgery. No Roman relics whatever have been 
 discovered at or near St. David's ; and although it has been 
 suggested that the foumdatioas of the Roman town may have 
 been covered hj the blown sand which extends for some 
 distance inland on the south side of St. David's Head, the 
 feet that no mention of any ' ancient' building occurs in the 
 Lives, or in any writing of Giraldus, who is eloquent on the 
 Roman relics at Caerleon, renders it more than probable that 
 the Roman Menapia is in alU respects a city of oloudland — 
 on unfit birthplace for the Carausius of Stukeley. But if 
 Menapia thus disappears, ' H^n Mynyw ' still remains. It 
 seems most likely thset this place really stood on the tract now 
 covered with blown sand, and that the advance of the sand 
 caused its iinaJ desertion. At any rate, when David deter- 
 mined on founcMng a ohurch or monastery in his native 
 district, he did not choose the ' old bush,' where he had been 
 first taught — where, according to the legends, Grildas, the 
 ' wisest of Britons,' recognised the future sanctity of David 
 before his birth ; and from the shore near which St. Patrick, 
 who had proposed settling in Wales, was shown in vision the 
 whole of Ireland as the scene of his own labours, and was 
 told that Wales was reserved for another teacher — but sought 
 what was then perhaps the more complete seclusion of the 
 valley of the Alan, the ' Vallis Rosina,' ' Glyn Rosyn,' as the 
 Lives call it, no doubt from the Welsh ' Rh6s,' a moorland. 
 
A PILGEIMAGE TO ST. DAVID'S. 473 
 
 Of the condition of Wales at thiis time we know very little. 
 Stories recorded in the Lives, and Tomains still existing in 
 the country, may p^aps indicate that ihe district round H^ 
 Mynyw was then wild and unsettled, a land of many small 
 chieftains, constantly at feud with each other. David is said 
 to have been greatly troubled by a certain Boia and his wife, 
 the traces of whose fortress are pointed out on the summit of 
 a rock mamed ' Clegyr Foia,' * Boia's Biook,' between St. 
 David's and the sea. Local tradition goes on to assert that a 
 smaller ' strength,' flverhamgmg -the valley of the Alan, and 
 mjuch nearer St. David's, was constructed by the saint for 
 the protection of his '&,rm\.y,' as the inmates and dependents of 
 a iceligioas house were then called collectively. Love of ihis 
 native district, and that desire for a secluded and ascetic life 
 which was then common, and which may well have been 
 fostered and encouraged by the horrors of the English 
 conquest of Britain, were probably the jchief causes which 
 led to the foundation of the house in a place so remote and 
 so littie accessible. Except St. Asaph, which stands on high 
 ground, the sites of the other Welsh cathedrals much resemble 
 that of St. David's. They are placed in low and sheltered 
 valleys, either dose to a river or near some unfailing spring, 
 one of the first necessaries for those who established them- 
 selves on each site, and by whom the sees were foimded. At 
 St. David's, besides the river, there is a spring mear the east 
 emd of the cathedral, which (probably after the building .of 
 the Lady Ohapel) was called St. Mary's Well, but wMch 
 David is said to have called forth by his prayers, for the 
 service of his household. 
 
 The Monastery estabUshed in this place by St. David iwas, 
 there can be no doubt, of the same character as the religious 
 houses founded by St. Martin in Gavil in tiie fifth century 
 (the first in Western Europe), and as those of the same type 
 established in Ireland by St. Patrick (who was probably the 
 
474 A PILGRIMAGE TO ST. DAVId's. 
 
 nephew and disciple of St. Martin) and his successors before 
 the year 500. It was a ' familia' in which, while regular ser- 
 vice was maintained in the church, learning was not neg- 
 lected; There seems to have been a constant flow of scholars 
 to the house of David, as, before his tune, to those of Paulinus 
 and Etyd. Lands too were cultivated. The family had its 
 flocks and herds, and laboured in the woods and on the moors 
 to secure a due supply of winter fuel. With less of strict 
 rule than is found among the first Benedictines, there was pro- 
 bably more attention to study, and the spread of religion was 
 by no means unconsidered. By far the greater number of 
 the mother churches in the wide diocese of St. David's were 
 founded by David himself,* and were named from him. The 
 Triads class him with Padarn and Teilo as the ' three blessed 
 visitors of the Isle of Britain.' ' They were so called because 
 they went as guests to the houses of the noble, the poor, th^ 
 native, and the stranger, without accepting fee or reward, 
 victuals or drink ; but what they did was to teach the faith in 
 Christ to every one without pay or thanks, besides which they 
 gave to the poor and needy gifts of their gold and silver, their 
 raiment and provisions.' It is probable that St. David's in- 
 fluence was felt throughout Wales during his lifetime ; and it 
 is certain that the Irish Church was indebted to him, with his 
 countrymen Gildas and Cadoc, for a great restoration of the 
 faith and of order. A very curious document, first published 
 by Ussher, and dating from the middle of the eighth century^ 
 divides the ' Saints of the Irish Church ' into three classes or 
 orders.f The first, ' Sanctissimus, burning like the sun,' com- 
 prises those who took St. Patrick for their model, and followed 
 his institutions. The second order, Sanctior, shining like the 
 
 * Bees, Essay on the Wehh Saints, p. 45. North Wales does not 
 contain a single church or chapel dedicated to St. David. 
 
 t A translation of this document is inserted in Dr. Todd's Life of 
 St, Patrick, p. 88. It ia accepted by him as perfectly authentic, 
 
A PILGEIMAGE TO ST, DAYID's. 475 
 
 moon, had no connection with Patrick, but had received sm 
 
 orderof mass from David, Cadoc, and Gildas.* The third order, 
 
 Sanctus, whose light was that of the stars, were hermits and 
 
 solitaries. Gildas is said to have gone himself to Ireland to 
 
 restore the Catholic faith, which had been obscured in less 
 
 than a century after the death of Patrick ; and the legends of 
 
 the later Irish saints bring nearly all the more distinguished 
 
 of them to study in Wales, at * Kilmuine,' the ' Church of the 
 
 bramble' — the Irish equivalent for Mynyw, St. Finiatt of 
 
 Clonard, ' oidhe' or ' foster father of the Saints of Ii-eland' as 
 
 he is called, himself the roaster of a famous school whidn 
 
 produced 3,000 disciples — 
 
 Trium virorum millium 
 Sorte fit Doctor humilis — 
 
 had sat at the feet of St. David. St. Moedhog of Ferns was 
 also in the monastery at Kilmuine, as was St. Bar of Cork} 
 and according to Rhyddmarch's Life of St. David, a third or 
 fourth part of Ireland was obedient to him. It is to St. David, 
 moreover, if we are to believe Rhyddmarch, that Ireland is 
 indebted for her bees. Modomnoc, a disciple of David in Glyn 
 Rosyn, passed thence to Ireland, ' and a large swarm of bees 
 followed him, and settled on the prow of the ship where he 
 sat.' They accompanied him and supplied him with honey 
 during his Irish mission; but 'not desiring to enjoy their com- 
 pany by fraud,' he brought them back to Wales, when ' they 
 fled to their usual place, and David blessed Modomnoc for his 
 humility.' Three times the bees went and returned with Mo- 
 domnoc ; ' and the third time holy David dismissed Modom- 
 noc with the bees and blessed them' — saying that henceforth 
 bees should prosper in Ireland, but that they should no longer 
 increase in Glyn Rosyn. This, adds Rhyddmarch, is found to 
 be the fact. Swarms decrease at St. David's, ' but Ireland, 
 
 * For the independent evidence establiahing the connection of St. 
 David with Ireland, see Haddan & Stubbs, Coimcih, vol. i, p, 115., 
 
476 A PlLGfRIMAGE TO ST. DAVID's. 
 
 iai wliich until tliat time bees could never live, is enriched with 
 plenty of honey. . . It is manifested that they could not live 
 there before, for if you throw Irish earth or stone into itbe 
 midst of the bees, dispersed and flying away ihey will shun 
 it.'* 
 
 It is especially noticeable that this 'eecond order' lof Irish 
 saints seems to have no connection with Armagh, or with the 
 institutions of St. Patrick. That saint is never mentioned in 
 their Lives ; and by their order of mass and their monastic 
 rules they were immediately connected with Menevia and the 
 Church of Wales. To this second order belong St. Golutmb- 
 kiUe and the numerous Irish missionaries who spread them- 
 selves throughout Europe from -the end of the sixth to that of 
 the eighth century. From lona, as we know, came the teach- 
 ers of the Scottish Gael and Picts, besides titose first bishops 
 of Northumbria who (restored ishe faith in that English te^- 
 dom after the departure of Patilinns and the extinction , of *he 
 Christianity inftiioduced by him. We may well suppose that 
 the see of these first Northumbrian bishops was fixed at Lin- 
 ddsfarne, the holy island. 
 
 Scourged by the winds' eternal sway, 
 ©pen to rovers fierce as they — 
 
 with a distinct recoHecition oif lona. 'Many of the first teach- 
 ers of Christianity in Scotland are said to (have had their 
 oraitories in caverns on ihe coast. The cave of St. Ooluanb- 
 kille is pointed out in Argyleshire. St. Serf has his on the 
 coast of Fife ; and -we all remember the ' ocean cave' a(t St. 
 Andrew's, 
 
 ■■Where good St. Rule his holy lay 
 [From midnight to the dawn of day 
 Sung to the billows' sound. 
 
 It would, ;perha,ps, be too much to assert that the love of isuoh 
 
 * KhyddmasrOh^ Life of St. David, in Lives of ComkhnoSriUsh 
 SamU, 
 
A PILGRIMAGE TO ST. DAVID's. 477 
 
 rock-walled and sea-girt solitades descended through this* 
 'second order' of saints from their early connexion with 
 Menevia ; but it is at any rate sufficiently marked,* 
 
 Besides numerous Irish, there is evidence that Constantine,, 
 Prince of Dyftiaiat or Damnonia, left his kingdom abo'ut the 
 year 589 to enter the Monastery of St. David. Constantine, 
 or ' Cystennyn,' whose Boman name recalls the great Em- 
 peror whom Britain claimed as her own son, was the 'tyran- 
 nic whelp of the unclean Damnonian lioness' apostrophised,, 
 with other chieftains of Britain, by Gildas in his well-knawn 
 epistle. He was afterwards reverenced as a saint in his 
 former kingdom, and at least two churches in Cornwall 
 are dedicated to him. 
 
 We may also accept as certain the presence of St. David at 
 two, perhaps at three, synods, convened, apparently, for the 
 construction and imposition of a penitential. The third synod 
 was held at Caerleon in 601, the year in which the Cambrian 
 Annals place the death of St. David. His presence is uncer- 
 tain : but the synod itself was probably connected with the 
 famous Conference of the British bishops with Augustine of 
 Canterbury ; if, indeed, it was not the same. It would be a 
 striking picture if we could believe that St. David, old and 
 about to die, was present at this ominous interview. 
 
 At what time St. David received episcopal consecration is, as 
 
 has been said, uncertain. There are some indistinct traces of 
 
 the existence in Wales of 'monastic bishops' as they were 
 
 called, that is, of bishops who performed episcopal functions 
 
 within their own religious house, but who were without a 
 
 regular diocese. Such bishops were numerous in Ireland ; but 
 
 if they ever existed in Wales, it is tolerably certain that St. 
 
 David did not belong to their class. A succession of bishops, 
 
 * It is nowhere asserted that St. Columba, or Oolumbkille, was 
 ever at St. David's. But he belongs distinctly to the ' second order ' 
 of saints, whose teaching amd institutions were, as has been seen, 
 under the immediate influence of the Welsh Ohuroh, 
 
478 A PILGRIMAGE TO ST. DAVID's. 
 
 broken indeed, and not always consistent, has been traced with 
 sufficient clearness as ' fairly to prove the continuous existence 
 of the see from St. David's time.' He is therefore to be regard- 
 ed as its founder. Legends embodied in the Lives of St. Teilo 
 and St. David assert that in company with St. Padam 
 they went on pilgrimage to Jerusalem, where 'they were 
 raised by the Patriarch to the episcopal dignity, Teilo in the 
 room of Peter, David in that of James ; ' but this pflgrimage 
 and consecration are common to the legends of many Welsh 
 saints ; and the peculiar dignity assigned to Teilo was no doubt 
 invented during the dispute for precedence between the 
 churches of Llandaff and St. David's. 
 
 Besides the shore chapels already mentioned, there were two 
 on Bamsey Island, one at Perth Stinan, opposite the island, 
 and one dedicated to St. Patrick, near the Whitesands, below 
 Cam Llidi. St. Patrick's chapel, of which the foundations 
 remain, no doubt marks the place anciently called ' Patrick's 
 Seat,' whence, according to the legend, he was shown the 
 whole of Ireland in vision. Capel Stinan, of which the walls 
 are standing, is placed on the verge of the cliffs looking across 
 the Sound of Bamsey. St. Justinian, to whom it is dedicated, 
 was, says his legend, an Armorican who established himself 
 on Ramsey and became St. David's confessor. His servants 
 killed him, were struck with leprosy, and spent the rest of their 
 days in penitence on a rock called ' the Lepers' rock,' in the 
 sound. The body of Justinian walked across the sound, and 
 landing at Porth Stinan was buried where the chapel now 
 stands. All these chapels, according to a writer of the time 
 of Elizabeth, were ' built for the devotion of seamen and pas- 
 sengers when they first came ashore. Other pilgrims also 
 went to them. What was there offered was carried to the 
 Cathedral, and divided every Saturday among the canons and 
 priests. Some yet living that belong to the Church can re- 
 member since the offering money was brought on Saturdays to 
 
A PILGEIMAGE TO ST. DAVID's. 479 
 
 tiie chapter-liouse, and there divided by dishfuls, the quantity 
 not allowing them leisure to tell it.' Many pilgrims, as they 
 approached St. David's from the north, made their first offer- 
 ings at a chapel called the ' Chapel of the Fathom,' which stood 
 at some distance from the sea. It contained a measure known 
 as ' St. David's Fathom,' about three yards and a half, marked 
 on one of the arches, and held to be the length of the saint's 
 outstretched arms. St. David is traditionally said to have 
 been of great stature. The paladins of Charlemagne and King 
 Arthur's knights, especially Gawain, become giants in some 
 forms of tradition ; and St. David is not the only saint to 
 whom a similar measure has been applied. It may be here 
 remarked that the latest legends make David the unde of 
 King Arthur ; and the arms assigned to Arthur, together 
 with the shield given to Oadwallader, the last titular King of 
 Britaiq, were formerly to be seen on the chancel roof of the 
 Cathedral. As Welsh hagiology becomes more mediaeval, 
 it assumes more and more the character of the romantic 
 Mabinogion, and Arthur and his knights are sometimes made 
 to play actual parts in the story. 
 
 The monastery founded by St. David possibly changed its 
 character long before the twelfth century, when Bishop Ber- 
 nard established a body of canons here. Before that time, 
 according to Giraldus, the clerks of St. David's had been 
 known only as ' Grlaswyr ' [=Eglwyswyr] ' churchmen.', The 
 gradual loss of early discipline is indicated by the story of 
 Bishop Morgeneu, killed by the Northmen about the year 
 999, and who, says Giraldus, was the first of the bishops who 
 ate flesh. Accordingly he appeared after his death, and de- 
 clared that his death had been caused by this neglect of the 
 ancient rule. ' Quia carnes comedi,' said the spectre, ' caro 
 factus sum.' ('I ate meat, and therefore they made meat of 
 me.') The Northmen, who hovered long about this coast, fre- 
 quently plundered St. David's j and appearing for the last time 
 
480 A PILGEIMAGE TO ST. BAVID's. 
 
 in 1088, are said to have destroyed the place utterly. But if 
 the dturch and monastery were burnt at this time, they 
 speedily arose from their ashes. From about 1071 to 109:8, 
 under the last Welsh bishops, the school of learning at St. 
 David's was at least equal to what it had been in the days of its 
 founder. Bishop Sullen, called the ' Wise,' ' the best of all 
 the bishops in Wales for counsel, learning, religion,' died in 
 1088. He had received the Conqueror at St. David's in 1081, 
 and was succeeded by his son Rhyddraaroh, the biographer of 
 St. David. Rhyddmarch died in 1098 ; and a,fter his time, 
 according to the Welsh Chronicle, ' instruction for scholars 
 ceased in Mynyw.' 
 
 A great change was indeed impending. In 1115, Bernard^ 
 OhancelloF to Matilda, queen of Henry I., became the first 
 ' foreign ' bishop of St. David's. It does not appear that he 
 began to build ; and he was perhaps contented with what must 
 have been the very plain and simple church of his predecessors. 
 But he established his canons here ; and it was in his time, if 
 we are to beheve Godwin, that St. David was formally canon- 
 ised by Pope Calixtus II. But with the instinct of a foreign 
 churchman — the instinct which was displayed in Lanfranc's 
 depreciation of the English saints — Bernard added a new 
 dedication to his church, which henceforth became the Cathe- 
 dral of St. David and St. Andrew. So St. Peter was joined 
 with St. Teilo at Llandaff, and St. Mary with St. Daniel at 
 Bangor. 
 
 The existing church was begun by Bishop Peter de Leia 
 (1176 — 1198), who had been prior of Wenlock. Its architect, 
 writes Sir Gilbert Scott, in his first report on the fabric 
 (1862), ' seemed determined to plant, in the farthest extremity 
 of our island, the standard of the utmost advancement of his 
 art at the period of its most determined progression. The 
 building is thus ... a wonderfully interesting and valuable 
 landmark in architectural history, taking, in the extreme west, 
 
A PILGBIMAGE TO ST. DAVID* S. 481 
 
 a position parallel to that held by Canterbury in the extreme 
 east of the island.' But on the architectural history and 
 details of the church we must not dwell. To these the resto- 
 ration in progress has already drawn attention. They are 
 indeed full of interest ; and the extent and beauty of the later 
 works, the vast episcopal palace, and the distinguished prelates 
 by whom the see was frequently held during the fourteenth 
 and fifteenth centuries, prove that St. David's, remote as it 
 was, was then, from whatever causes (and probably the repu- 
 tation of its great shrine was the principal), regarded as a 
 position of no small dignity and importance. But at no 
 period of its history was the place so remarkable, nor was its 
 influence so great, as in that early time when St. David ruled 
 over the rude huts and simple church of his ' scholars ' in the 
 solitude of Glyn Kosyn. 
 
 THE END. 
 
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