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THE
HISTORY OF ENGLAND:
FROM THE EARLIEST PERIOD
THE DEAl
^V
:^^o]v^
JABETH,
<.^
^S^^
SHARON TURNER, ESQ., F.S.A. & R.A.S.L
IN TWELVE YQtUMES.
VOL. VII.
CONTAINING THE CHARACTER OF RICHARD THE THIRD-
THE REIGN OF HENRY THE SEVENTH, AND THE
LITERARY HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
LONDON !
PRINTED Foil
LONGMAN, ORME, BROWN, GREEN, AND LONGMAN.H,
1839.
^
'd
7
LONDON:
Primed by Manning and Mason, hj L«ue,
Paternoster-Row.
THE
HISTORY OF ENGLAND;
MIDDLE AGES.
l^ FIVE VOLUMES.
VOL. IV.
TABLE
or
CONTENTS. VOLUME IV.
BOOK V.
1484—1509.
CHAP. I,
REVIEW OF THE CHARACTER, LAWS, CAUSES OF UNPOPU
LARITY, KINDNESSES, TASTES, AMUSEMENTS, AND FOREIGN
TRADE, OF RICHARD III.
page 1
A.D. Injustice to Richard -----
Ingratitude to Richard ----- 4
His liberalities ^
- - repentance - . . . n
- - modes of expiation - - - - . g
- - efforts to reform vices and abuses - - - 1 2
Why called a tyrant - - - - - -15
His forced loans - ->. - - . . -i?
- - beneficial laws - - . - 19
He represses the retinue of the great - - - 2 1
His conduct towards the church - - - - 22
Panegyric of him by the convocation - - - 24
Art
CONTENTS.
page
His letter to his mother - - - - 26
kindnesses to the ladies of his opponents - - 27
- - other bounties - - - 28
He buries Henry VI. at Windsor - . . 30
His personal tastes and pleasures - - - 31
- - love of music - - - . - 32
- - falconry and hunting - ib.
- - bears and apes ------ 33
He encourages architecture - . . . ib-
His attention to trade - - - 34
Voyages to Iceland -~ - . 35
His extreme energy - - 36
Inquiry, whether Columbus was in Richard's service 38
CHAP. in.
THE REIGN OF HENRY VII.
1485—1509.
Henry VI. foretells his elevation - - 47
Birth of Henry VII .48
1470. His imprisonment in Bretagne - - - - 49
1485. His entry into London ro
- - first parliament - - - _ . r^
Crown settled on him and his heirs - - 53
i486. He marries Elizabeth - - - - . rr
His tour thro England - - - kO
Lovel attempts to surprise him - - - ib.
His son Arthur born cq
Lambert Simnel's pretension - - - fig
1487. Battle at Stoke, June 16 65
Perkin Warbeck ... g„
Examinations of Tyrrel and Dighton - 69
Sir William Stanley's arrest and execution - 71
1495. Perkin goes to Scotland, July
1496. Battle on Blackheath, 22 June - . . . -o
1497. Perkin taken - . _ ' 7d
His confession " ' "74
A.D.
'2
ib.
CONTENTS. vii
A,D. _ page
His escape, re-capture, and execution - - - 75
State and reforms of the church - - - 76
Vices in the abbey of St. Albans - - - - 79
1494. Old woman burnt for heresy - - - 81
Henry's foreign politics - - .id.
Flanders saved from France - - 82
French king gains Bretagne - - - - 83
CHAP. IV.
FOREIGN ALLIANCES OF HENRY VII.— HIS CHARACTER
PUBLIC VIEWS — DEATH AND BENEFICIAL LAWS.
A. D. page
His various alliances - - . - - 87
His daughter Margaret marries James IV. - ' - 88
1501. His son ^^rthur marries Catherine - - 89
His queen dies - ----- ib.
Sir James Tyrrel beheaded - - - 90
Henry's character - - - - - - ib.
Dudley's account of the monies he received - 98
1509. Henry's illness . - - . . 100
- - - - death, 22 April - 101
His regard to trade - - - 102
Substance of his laws - 105
A4
CONTENTS. BOOK VI.
THE LITERARY HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP. L
REVIEW OF THE CAUSES OF THE DECLINE Of LITERATURE
BEFORE THE NOHMAN CONQUEST.
400—1000.
page
Decline of letters in the Roman Empire - - - -12
Ascribed by Romans to their moral degeneracy - 17
Their manners in the fourth century - - - n8
Gothic nations not unwilling to acquire literature - - 1 2 1
The classical literature become incompetent to improve them, 1 24
Sophistical philosophy of Greece - - - - 127
Rhetorical literature of Rome - - - - 129
Effects of these evils . . - - - 132
The Gothic nations imbibe the rhetorical spirit - - 135
Its injurious effects on the human mind - - - 138
Grecian literature equally declines - - 141
Deterioration of the Roman Judgment - - 144
CHAP. II.
HISTORY OF THE REVIVAL OF THE LATIN LITERATURE IN
ENGLAND, AFTER THE NORMAN CONQUEST.
page
Latin literature of the Anglo-Saxons - - - 146
Its decline ----- - - - ib.
Revived by Lanfranc, Archbishop of Canterbury - 14^
Abbey of Fleury, flourished in loi 3 - - . jjj.
Anselm succeeds Lanfranc in his see - 152
Anglo-Normans become eager for study - - 1^3
A striking instance of this - - - - i*;^
Schools every where established .... 1^5
CONTENTS. ix
page
Pilgrimages through Greece - - - - 157
Increase the ardour for study - - - -158
Its high patronage - - - - ib.
China MSS. multiplied by copies - - - 160
Ignorance became discreditable - - - 161
First produce' of the Anglo-Norman literature ¦ - 162
Latin language attained - - - - ib.
Latin versifiers - ..... 163
W. Mapes verses on the ancient authors - - - 165
Alanus Parabolarum or Doctrinale - - - 166
Estimation of the intellectual utility of the Middle Age authors 169
Valuable chronicles of the Anglo-Norman monks - - 1 70
Limited utility of the Roman classics - - - - 171
And of their ancient imitators - 173
The trivium and quadrivium . ib.
Improved intellect not formed by study only - - 1 74
Literature declines when society degenerates - - 175
La'tin literature not fitted for popular instruction - 176
Unfavourable to the rise of original genius - - 177
Vernacular literature wanted for the national improvement 181
CHAP. III.
HISTORY OF ANGLO-NORMAN JONGLEURS AND MINSTRELS.
page
Their ancient appellations - . - 1 83
How estimated by some . - 1 84
Described by Brunne --. ---186
Piers Plouhman's satire - - 187
They are discountenanced by the church - - 188
Their customs and performances - - - - 189
Talents of the more respectable - - 192
Attempts to improve them - - ib.
Jongleurs sometimes became knights - - - - 193
Their decline - - - - - - 194
Minstrels patronized by Henry V. - - - 195
CONTENTS.
CHAP. IV.
HISTORY OF THE ANGLO-NORMAN VERNACULAR POETRY.
page
Universality of the minstrel lays 197
Their corruptions .--- --198
Clergy induced to write vernacular poetry - - 200
In the reign of Henry I. - - - - - 201
Popularity of their works - ¦ ... 202
Adoption of the Patois Latin for the Norman language - 205
Philip du Than's poem - . . - - 206
Theobald's Physiologus - - - 207
His verses de Leone - . - . 209
Marbodius on Gems - - - - 212
Sanson de Nanteuil's proverbs - - 213
Wace's historical poems - ... 215
His Roman de Rou . - - . . 216
Jeffry of Monmouth's British History - - - 218
Its great popularity - - - - - 2 1 9
Wace puts it into verse - - - 223
Gaimar's Estorie des Angles - - - - 223
Beneoit's Trojan poem . - . . 224
- - - - Roman de Normandie - 225
Fictitious romances ¦ 227
Wace's Chevalier au Leon - - 229
Several origins of these three classes of Vernacular poems 230
CHAP. V.
ON THE ROMANCES UPON -MITHUR AND THE ROUND TABLE.
page
Origin of the romances on Arthur - 231
From Bretagne and Wales - 232
Intellectual cultivation of Bretagne . 239
The earliest romance, Tristan 240
Colophons of the ancient romances 241
CONTENTS.
CHAP. VI.
ON TURPIN's history OF CHARLEMAGNE AND THE ROMANCES
UPON THIS EMPEROR AND HIS PEERS, AND ON ALEXANDER. page
When Turpin's romance first appeared - - 243
Question as to the person of Roland - . - - 249
Sanctioned and published by Calixtus II. - - - 250
Gestes de Garin and Quatrefils d'Aymon . - - 252
Romances on Alexander .... 254
Appendix i.
Evidence and reasonings to shew that Turpin's, History of
Charlemagne originated fi-om pope Calixtus II. - - 256
Appendix 2.
Inquiry if Jeffry's British History did not originate from the
political views of Henry I. - - - - 269
CHAP. VIL
ON THE LAYS AND FABLES OF MARIE ON THE STYLE OF
THE NORMAN TllOUVEURS, AND ITS PROGRESS INTO THE
PRESENT FRENCH. page
Account of Marie - - . . . 287
Her lais, all Breton stories - - - - - 289
On their supernatural machinery - 290
On the supernatural fictions of Europe 292
Specimens of the imaginative parts of her tales - 295
Her fables 302
A new supposition as to Mary's rank and person - 304
Lives of Saints in verse - - 307
Style of the Anglo-Saxon poetry - - .. . ib.
Its decline - - ... - 309
The simple character of the Anglo-Norman poetry - 310
On the language of the Norman Trouveurs - 311
Facility of its rime - - - - - -316
Its advantage to English poetry - - 318
CONTENTS. CHAP. vm.
ON THE ORIGIN AND PROGRESS OF RIME IN THE
MIDDLE AGES.
page
Mental effects of rime - - - -
- 320
Its origin -.'...
- 322
St. Austin used it in 384 . . - -
- 324
Venantius Fortunatus, 570
- 325
Columbanus, 615
- 326
St. Aldhelm, 710 -
ib.
Aneurin and Tahesin, 550 - . - ,
328
Llywarch Hen and Myrddhun, 580
. ib.
Boniface, 755 - - -
- 329
On Irish rime
- 330
Theobaldus Physiologus, 800
- 331
Otfrid, 870 - - - -
332
Hartman, 870
ib.
St. Bernard, 1100 - . . .
- ib.
Anselm, 11 00 - - -
333
Peter, 1140 - . . .
- ib.
Berterus, 1 150, and Hoveden, 1199
- 334
On Leonine Rime
335
No person named Leo its author
- 337
Authors who used it before his reputed time -
- ib.
Most probable origin of the name
- 338
Gower's peculiarly, rimed Latin verses
- 339
CHAP. IX.
history of the INTRODUCTION OF THE ARABIAN SCIENCES
INTO ENGLAND.
page
Intellectual improvement in England - . - - 340
Apparent destruction of literature from the Gothic irruptions, 342
The aera of its reformation - - - - - ib.
Progress of the conquering Arabs ... - 344
Origin and Stock of the Arabs - - - ib.
Their utilities and virtues - . - . 346
CONTENTS. xiii
page
Ancient literature of the Arabs 347
On the alleged destruction of the Alexandrian Library - 348
Ancient Arabic writing 350
Their application to the sciences - - - - 35 1
They neglect the classical authors - - - 353
Al Mamon's encouragement of knowlege - - 354
On the Arabian cultivation of natural philosophy - ib.
Causes of its slow advance among the ancients - 355
Ancient mistakes on the causes of things - - 357
Misconceptions of Polytheism - - . 361
Progress of the Arabians - . . . 368
Their works on geometry ' - - . . 360
geography and history . ib.
Their literary women - - - - . . 070
Caliphs in Spain who encouraged learning - - 371
Hixem, in 790 ------- ib.
AI Hakem, his son . . . 072
Mohamad I. a poet - ' . - 373
Abderahman III. - ' - - ib.
Al Hakem II. in 961 - . - . _ . 37^
Intercourseof the Christians with the Spanish Arabs - 376
Sylvester II. - - . ib.
Constantino Afer - . 377
Other Christian students of Arabic - . 378
English students - - 370
Athelard's Arabian treatise - - ib.
Arabian studies pursued in England - - 382
Studies and use of the Jews in the middle ages - 385
CHAP. X.
ARABIAN SUBJECT CONTINUED INTELLECTUAL CHARACTER
OF THE AR.4BS AVICENNA's WORKS AL GAZEL's THEIR
NATURAL HISTORY USES OF GUNPOWDER PAPER ARA
BIAN LOGIC. page
Intellectual character of the Arabs - - 390
Al Gazel's works - - - - 393
Arabian studies of natural history - - - 395
Avicenna's works . - - - - - ib.
Chronology of their philosophers - - ib.
xiv CONTENT S. page
Their knowlege of the magnet and its polarity - - 397
---- gunpowder 398
paper - - - " 40°
Their books, on war -..--- 'o.
Arabian logic --.----- 401
Averroes ib.
Their rhetoric 402
The Arabian fables and romances . - . 403
Al Gazel's logica 406
CHAP. XL
INTRODUCTION OF THE ARISTOTELIAN PHILOSOPHY INTO
ENGLAND ANALYSIS OF PORPHYRY's ISAGOGE HISTORY
AND OPINIONS OF ARISTOTLE ANALYSIS OF ARISTOTLE's
CATEGORIES. page
Subjects of the Arabian philosophers .... 409
Analysis of Porph3Ty's Isagoge - - 411
History and writings of Aristotle - - - - 418
His ode to virtue - - - - - 419
Their first publication - - - - - 423
Some of his important opinions - ... 427
Analysis of his Categories - - - 433
Their aim and use . - . . 43^
Pere Rapin's remarks on Aristotle's Ethics - 443
CHAP. XIL
HISTORV OF THE SCHOLASTIC PHILOSOPHY; JOANNES ERI-
GENA; — ABELARD's life and WORKS; THE MOST FAMOUS
DOCTORS OF THE SCHOOLMEN; AL GAZEL, DUNS SCOTUS
AND OCCHAM ON THE UNIVERSALS. page
Origin of the scholastic philosophy - 44^
Joannes Erigena - - aaQ
Synopsis of his De Divisione Naturae 447
The studies imported fi*om Spain - - - ^rn
Roscelin ... . _ , _g
CONTENTS. XV
page
Abelard's life 458
Introduction to Theology - - 4^3
St. Bernard ... - - - 465
Abelard's latter days - - - - 466
----- character ... - 468
Peter Lombard's sentences - - - - 470
The most famous Doctors - - - - 472
Their important effects on the mind 473
Attacked by John of Salisbury - - 474
Other Schoolmen ... . 477
Their scepticism - 478
Defects of the Scholastic Logic - - 483
111 effects of logical definitions 488
Al Gazel on the Universals - - -491
Extract from Duns Scotus - - . - 492
W. Occham - . - - - 495
Nominalists and Realists - - - - - 499
Extract fi-om Thomas Aquinas - - " 5°!
- - - - Albertus Magnus - - - ¦ 505
HISTORY
O F
ENGLAND
BOOK V.
— -^ —
CHAP. L
Review of the Character, Laws, Causes of Unpopularity,
Kindnesses, Tastes, Amusements, and Foreign Trade, of
Richard IIL
TH E confession of our old chroniclers, who so reign of
little favor Richard, that if he had continued to ^'"'•/"•.
be lord protector only, and to have suffered his nephew
to have lived and reigned, " the realm would have
prospered; and he would have been as much praised
and beloved, as he is now abhorred and despised ; " *
and the declaration of lord Bacon, who has adopted
every prejudice against him, that he was yet a king
" jealous for the honor of the English nation," "^ are
expressive panegyrics, which imply that he must
have had some merits, that are inconsistent with that
general abuse, by which our elder historians, and
their modern copyists, have uniformly defamed him.
' Grafton, 853. ^ Bacon's Hist. Henry VII. p. 2.
Vol. IV. B
2 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK Even the philosopher of Verulam, instead of calmly
^- stating to us his laudable qualities and actions, has
contented himself with declaring, that " his cruelties
and parricides, in the opinion of all men, weighed
down his virtues; "* thus admitting the existence of
what he will not particularize ; and he is even so un
kind to his memory, as to give the king no credit for
the reality of what he felt that he possessed ; for he
adds, that wise men thought these virtues not to be
" ingenerate," but " forced and affected." * So that
whatever worth Richard possessed or displayed, he
is the only king of England, of whom we are to be
lieve, that nothing which seemed good in him could
be genuine ; but that he must have been altogether
and unceasingly that " malicious, envious, and deep
dissembling" demon, which More and Polydore
VirgiP have, rather passionately, depicted. Even the
little habit of " biting continually his under lip when
in deep thought," ® is considered by the latter, to be
the mark of a ferocious nature, a human wild beast;
as if some of the most harmless and best-principled
of men have not had the same habit, or customs as
terrific, of knitting, unconsciously, the brow into
stern frowns ; or of cutting or biting their nails, till
the blood has issued, while absorbed in profound and
interesting contemplation. Bacon himself lived to
know and prove, that a great and noble mind may,
by circumstances, be led to commit some obnoxious
deeds, without lessening the merit and utility of
many virtues, and of a beneficial life. And Richard
may justly complain, if his voice could be heard from
his bespattered tomb, that his good actions \vere
^ Bacon's Hist. Henry VII. p. 2. ° More, p. 154, Pol. V. (565
* lb. « Pol. V. 565.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 3
written in water ; but that his bad ones have been CHAP.
engraved on monumental brass. The first have been ^-
so studiously covered with oblivion, that we can only reign or
imperfectly trace them now, by catching some gleams f"^"|^'"-.
of a light that has been repressed ; or by inferences
and conjectures, from the few materials which time
has spared. The latter have been blazoned with a
vituperation, which does more honor to the feeling
than to the judgment of our historical censors.
It is the moral feelings of mankind which he
outraged, by one flagitious catastrophe, that have
consigned Richard to their indiscriminating detes*
tation. He loved, he courted, the applause of his
people. He exerted himself to deserve it; and his
intelligence, penetration, activity, temperance, patron
age of the rising arts, encouragement of commerce,
moral demeanor, attention to religion, and desire to
reform the abuses of law and power, that were afflict^
ing the country, were calculated to have produced
great celebrity to himself, and lasting advantages to
the nation. But, by basing his throne on principles
which shook every man's safety and comfort, no
merit and no benefit could compensate for the moral
evil which would have followed thro society, if he
could have obtained a peaceful and triumphant reign.
He had linked his name arid reign with every pa
rent's dread of the chances of evil, from elder kins
men to fatherless children, which his successful
example had created. We expect selfishness, com
petition, and danger from strangers ; but the heart
takes refuge in the bosom of natural kinship, as a
consecrated home of unquestionable honor and secu
rity, if not of affection. We rely on nature as our
pledge, that here we shall not be deceived nor dis-
In{!;rati-
tude lo
Ricliard.
HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
appointed, whatever fraud or violence may be agitat
ing society beyond the circle of our affinity. But
till mankind were taught, by Richard's downfall, that
such unnatural crimes ended in a discomfiture so
signal and unexpected as to seem to be judicial,
selfishness was losing its curb, and the ties of nature
their most commanding security. When he fell a
just victim to the safety of the orphan, the ward, the
kinsman, and the minor king, human confidence re
gained its assurance, and society its sweetest feeling,
and most important comfort ; but yet his fate, how
ever useful, has been peculiar.
Several kings have reigned, even in England,
under circumstances that also called for the moral
indignation of the country, who were neither de
serted nor deposed like Richard HI. Henry I. took
the throne, against the right of an elder brother,
whom he blinded, and imprisoned till he died, if he
did not produce his death/ John seized his nephew's
throne, and caused him to be murdered.* Edward III.
came to his crown on the deposition of his father,
who was soon after put to death." Richard II. and
Henry IV. were the sans of two brothers, yet Henry
deprived him of his sceptre ; and permitted, if he
did not'authorize his assassination." All these kings
reigned, till a natural death without violence intro
duced new accessions.
Why, then, we may ask, was Richard so peculiarly
obnoxious ? Did the difference arise, from his ao-e
being an era of distinguished virtue ? If we look
among the great and well-born at that time, we see
rapacity, violencej perjury, rebellion, treachery, and
' See volume I. of this History, p. l8o.
Mb. p. 406. s Seevol.'ll. p. iCo. '» Ib. p. 350.
RICH. IIJ.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 5
unbridled revenge and licentiousness, always before CIIAP.
us. Besides his public conduct, as king, which his ^"
enemies have extolled, his liberality to his friends reign of
was bounded only by his means of giving, at last,
failing from the abundance of his favors. This fact
does not rest merely on the general phrases in the
chronicler ; " but in the register of his grants, that
still remain, we see numerous pardons ; annuities to
all classes, and of all sums from 2O00 l. down to
twenty shillings, to earls and lords, to yeomen,
priests, and anchoresses ; '* perpetual gifts of manors,
lands, honors, offices, and pecuniary presents ; ex
emptions froi;n taxes and fines ; and several remissions
from forfeitures, and revocations of outlawries.*^
The amount of these donations, in a two j^ears' reign,
appears to have no parallel; and yet conspiracies
multiplied against him during his life, and execration
ever since. Those who had partaken of his gene
rosities; the Stanleys,'* Northumberland,'^ Kidwelly,
" More, after calling him ' malicious and envious,' adds, that he was
' free of dispense, and, above his power, liberal.' p. 154. I am not aware
that the malicious and envious are unusually liberal, or freely spending
their wealth. The latter qualities are inconsistent with the preceding
epithets. . " See the valuable Harl. MS. N" 433, which contains extracts, or
copies, of a great quantity of these grants of annuities. I began to select
them, but I found them too numerous to be inserted here. Among these
are anchoresses; one in Pomfret, p. 28; and one at Westminster, p, 41 ;
Their annuities were, forty shillings, and six marcs. To lord Surrey,
I observe two annuities, of 1000 /. and liooi.
" See the same MS. It contains from 3000 to nearly 2500 official
documents (for all of them are not noticed in the printed catalogue,) most
of which are the king's beneficial grants.
'¦* Lord Stanley was made constable of England. Harl. MS. p. 28. An
annuity of 100 /. was granted to him, p. 31 ; many castles, lordships, and
manors, p. 70; and farms, 8a. Castle and lordship of Kimbolton, 120.
SirWillium Stanley was knight of the body, and chamberlain of the county
of Chester. Ib. p. 1 1 5. Several annuities were given to him, p. 32-40;
the constableship of Carnarvon, p. 45 ; several castles, towns, and lord
ships, p. 88; tlie lordship of Thornbury, 122.
'' To Northumberland, besides the Great Powney estate, Richard also
B 3
RICH. III.
a HISTORY OP ENGLAND,
BOOK the Savages, both father and son ; " the Talbots, Hun-
^- gerford, Bourchier, and many others, not only aban-
REiGN OF doned, but took the field against him ; and became
the persons who, by their combination only, de
prived him both of dominion and life. Their hos
tility shews that he had not the art of conciliating
personal attachment among his nobility : he was
feared, not loved. Most of those who overwhelmed
him, were in offices of his household, nearly attached
to his person ; and yet, like Darius, he was " de
serted at his utmost need, by those his former
bounty fed;" he did not fall, but was thrown by
them, from his high estate. It is obvious that he
was unpopular with the great, who, tho their proto
type, the renowned earl of Warwick, wag no more,
could still, like him, make and unmake kings in
England. It is probable, that our great aversion to him has
arisen from our throwing back all the elder crimes
into barbarous times, where, believing all to be dark
and savage, we look for no moral sympathies, and
are not injured by their bad examples. But Richard
-belonged to an age that was emerging into light and
civilized life. Moral criticism was gaining a wel
comed existence, and began to look discriminatingly
around. Men have been since, no longer estimated
for wealth or title, but according to conduct and
principle ; and hence, Richard, notwithstanding his
granted the lordship of Holderness ; Harl. MS. p. 31 ; and many manors,
lordships, lands and offices, in various counties, ib. p. 43 ; and to the
Percys, his kinsmen, several lordships and annuities. Ib. 43, 58.
"" Grants occur, in this MS. to Savage the younger, as well as to his
father ; as, an annuity of 40 marcs, p. 31 ; the ward and marriage of an
heir, p. 102, &c. The desertion of sir John Savage, the day before the
battle, must have been very detrimental to Richard, as Richmond was
advised to give him the command of one of his wings, in the battle.
REICN or
III.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 7
shining crown and robes, has been considered but as chap
the murderer of his orphaned nephews: and this _^
fact has driven into oblivion all the rest of his con
duct, however laudable. ^
But we may now safely censure the criminal, with
out injustice to the man or to the king. Let us then
review, dispassionately, the whole of his mixed cha
racter. Our Shakspeare has fixed a gloomy cele
brity, as durable as his own genius, upon him. It
will be, therefore, no unworthy task, if we endeavor
to contemplate him, in his fair proportions of authen
tic history.
That Richard, during his life, endeavored to make Richard's
the " amende honorable " to society, by repentina: '"'^P''"'"
. Ill- ance.
of his great crime, and by shewmg the world that
he did so, instead of proudly and stubbornly deny
ing or vindicating it, in defiance of human censure,
has been already intimated ; " and so notorious was
his indication of these feelings, that he is represented
as having told his army on the morning of his dis
astrous battle, " Altho in the adoption or obtain
ing of the garlandj I was seduced and provoked by
sinister counsel to commit a detestable act; yet^
I trust I have, by strait penance and salt tears,
purged the offence. This abominable crime, I re
quire you, of friendship, as clearly to forget, as
I daily do remember to lament the same. " '*
But tho this obvious remorse may have pleased
and satisfied many, it could not, by the piiblic at
large, be deemed true or sufficient, while he con
tinued to profit by his crime. He never threw down
the crown and sceptre and royal robes, as evidence
of his interior compunction, or as an atonement to
" See before, vol. 3. " Grafton, 846.
B 4
RICH, III.
8 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK society for his bad example. He resolved to live
^' king and to die king ; and he kept his diadem as
reigk op continually upon his head, as if it bad been his
palladium and paradise ; instead of viewing it as the
radiant tempter, which had seduced and degraded
him. He could not, therefore, have been compas
sionated as the humbled, heart-broken, and sorrowing
penitent, regretting that, by one foul action, he had
sullied a heart that could feel, and a soul that aspired
to better wishes and deeds. His continual osten
tatious display of his crown and full regal state, to
his last hour, prove, that if he experienced remorse
for having murdered his nephew, he never repented
that he had seized his crown ; nor could any one
suppose that he would have recalled Edward V. into
life, if he had possessed the power, upon the terms
pf abandoning his heart-loved dignity ; and yet it
became every day more evident, that he could not
keep it without new bloodshed and severities, from
the hostility that rose against him. He chose to
coinmit these additional, tho not illegal violences,
and to reign ; and, therefore, his penitential agita
tions were but indications of a spirit formed for
worthier things, yet incapable of sacrificing ambition
to virtue, and self-doting pride to honor or duty —
to man or to God. He preferred, and in the very
crisis of the mortal agony, when the alternative
of flight and life was offered him, and even true
friendship had lost its hope of altering this result, he
declared that he preferred death to dethronement;
and he fought and perished, as he had so much lived,
with the guilty crown upon his brow.
That Buckingham and Catesby, at different in
tervals, for their own purposes, gpaded his high
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES, 9
self-estimating egotism, to usurp the crown, was both chap.
known and believed. Some may have discerned, ^-
that if he had not attained it, he might have perished reign of
from the violence of others ; and hence, have allowed, ""^°;"'-.
that safety, vanity and persuasion, led him to his
crime, and that to his fate. But mankind are too
experienced, and too jealous of their social welfare,
to allow it to be to any one an excuse for crime, to
say, that he was tempted to commit it ; we all feel,
that a man must tempt himself, before he can be
successfully tempted by others ; where the previous
self-seduction has not occurred, the offered induce
ment to wrong is resisted as soon as proposed. The
honorable bosom spurns dishonor. The hesitating
dally with it till it masters them. It is by coinciding
with the secret wish and beginning hope, that it pre
vails, not so much as a seducing tempter, but as a
welcomed auxiliary. Buckingham and Catesby
would have urged Richard in vain, if the previous
inclination of his egotism had not given persuasion
to their voice, and a listening ear to their counsel.
There is no good evidence that Richard was, from
the beginning, planning for the crown ; but it is not
improbable, that he was secretly envying its pos
sessor, and wishing that he had been as fortunately
born. The wish may at last have been father to
the act.
One public method which. Richard took to ex
press his penitence, arid appease his own remorse,
tho it might please the church and its less enlightened
supporters, and suited his own prepossessions, and
the religious fashion of the day, was certain of dis
satisfying many. He directed looo masses to be
RICH. III.
10 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK said for his brother;" and he now went to the ex-
V- pense of founding i oo singing priests at York, to
RF.10N OF chant for mercy upon himself.''" So at Northamp
ton, the place where he had arrested Rivers, his first
act of wrong, he paid a priest to sing for him." At
Sheriff's Hutton, where he had imprisoned Rivers,
we find another chantry priest of our Lady chapel
there, allowed ten pounds a year for his salary.**
Others were paid for singing elsewhere.*' The king's
anxiety for his future state, or for the better opinion
of his contemporaries, urged him also to endow a
dean and several canons at Berking ;*" and to rebuild
a house and chapel, for an anchoress at Pomfret,^
the town where the queen's brother and son were
beheaded. A pilgrimage to St. James, of Galicia in
Spain, being at this time in great vogue, ^ for its
" He signed a warrant for paying the friars of Richmond 12 marcs, and
6s. 8fl!. for these masses, at York, 27 May 1484. Harl. MS. p. 176.
^ Rous mentions this, p. 2l6 ; and the grants about it are in the Harl.
MS. pp. 72. 80. 90, &c. He had an early taste for this species of expia
tion ; for when he petitioned his brother, as king, in full parliament, on
the partition, with Clarence, of his wife's property, and for leave to grant
in mortmain, he added, ' And I, your said suppliant, purpose to edify,
found, endowe, and make a college, of a dean, and twelve priests, to sing
and pray for the prosperous estate of you, sovereign lord, the queen, your
issue, and my lady and mother : the welfare of me, Anne my wife, and my
issue, while we live in this present world, and for the souls of us when
we be departed out of this world; the souls of my lord my father, my
brethren and sisters, and of all Christian souls ! ' Rolls Pari. 6. p. 173.
, " ' Warrant to pay 10 marcs, yearly, to sir John Perty, to sing for the
king, in a chapel before the holy rood at Northampton,' dated 28 March
1484. Harl. MS. l68.
" The order to pay him lOO shillings, for half a year, is dated Windsor,
15 Jan. 1485. MS. ib. 201.
, ^ P. 217; p. l66. It seems to have been a great fashion to found
chantries ; for several, established by other persons, are mentioned in this
MS. ; as one by the chief justice of the king's bench, p. 30 ; by the bishop,
the tutor of Edward V. p. 79 ; and by other persons, pp. 34. 49. 95. 100.
208. &c.
=* Harl. MS. pp. 102. 104. == Ib. p. 193.
* See several commissions for ships, with these pilgrims, in the Harl.
MS, pp. 171, 172. 175, &c.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 11
anodyne effects, the king licensed sir Bryan Stapleton
and a chaplain to go over, " and there to fulfil cer
tain his vows and pilgrimages." ^
But altho, two centuries before him, acts like these
might have been deemed sufficient expiation for
sins, and have even procured for him the character
of a pious prince, they then must have revolted as
many as they satisfied. The new spirit that was per
vading every part of England, in religion, already
thought that there was too much singing, and too
little edification, in the chapels and cathedrals ; and
deemed pilgrimages worse than useless.*^ Many in
heritors of the new wisdom of Wickliffe, were teach
ing, that as it was the duty and the interest of guilt
to be penitent ; and as the regretting offender would
find it sweet and balmy, to be so ; yet that rites,
sighs, tears, phrases, gifts, masses, alms, chanting,
pilgrimages, and all the mechanical drama of bodily
sorrow, were not to be substituted for that self-
condemning humiliation for the crime, and that de
position of the splendid advantages for which it
had been committed, which Richard's spirit could
never brook. It was becoming obvious, that if a
theatrical compromise of this sort could be effectual,
crime would be as frequent as the inclination to en
joy its fruits ; and earth would become uninhabitable.
Hence Richard was, by many, but more suspected
of hypocrisy for his penitential actions. This was
hard measure ; but it was natural. He could not be
wiser than the legal and established directors of the
conscience of his age. They taught the delusive
" Harl. MS. p. 143. Dated 23Jan. 1484. Theletter of recommendation
for Thomas Rouloat, ' who hath vowed to doo diverse pilgrimages within
this realm,' 29 Jan, 1484, looks like a deputy for the king, lb, p, 146,
'' See before, vol. 3.
RICH, III.
12 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK theory of the benefit of ceremonial penance, and
^' built their affluence upon its belief; and he, like all
REIGN OF his contemporaries, who did not adopt the new opi-
¦ nions of the Lollards, cherished the doctrine of pur-
chaseable expiation and ritual penitence ; and would
have deemed it heresy, worse than his own misdeeds,
to have questioned their efficaciousness. Yet, who
could accredit his sincerity, while he wore his blood-
earned crown !
' Another of the means, by which Richard endea
vored to manifest his repentance, to alone for his
crime, and to regain the good opinion of society, was
by becoming an active instrument to suppress vice
in his kingdom, in all classes, and to urge them to
rectitude and morality. On the loth of March 1484,
he addressed a circular letter to all his bishops.** In
this he mentions, " Our principal intent and fervent
desire, is, to see virtue and cleanness of living to be
advanced, increased and multiplied ; and vices, and
all other things repugnant to virtue, provoking the
displeasure of God, to be repressed and annulled;
and this perfectly followed, and put in execution, by
persons of high estate, pre-eminence and dignity, not
only induces persons of lower degree, to take thereof
ensample, and to insure the same.'"" — He adds, " and
as it is notarily knovi^n, that in every jurisdiction, as
well in their pastoral care, as other, there be many
as well of the spiritual party, as of the temporal,
delyring from the true way of virtue and good living,
to the pernicious example of others, and lothsomeness
=» Hari. MS. p. 281.
*¦ He alpo subjoins, I think, with an allusion to his private deprecating
supplications, ' but also thereby, the great and infinite goodness of God
is made placable, and graciously inclined to the exaudition q/' our petitions
and prayers.' Ib.
RICH. III.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. i:}
of every well-disposed people ; — We, therefore, de- chap.
sire and require you, that according to the charge of
your profession, ye see, within the authority of your ^-^-^'^^ "^
jurisdiction, all such persons as set apart virtue, and
promote the damnable execution of sin and vices, to
be reformed, repressed and punished ; not sparing
for any love or favor, whether the offender be tem
poral or spiritual," ''
With this avowed desire of impartial reformation,
when he visited Kent, he published a patriotic pro
clamation, in which he stated, " The king's highness
is fully determined to see administration of justice to
be had throughout his realm, and to reform and
punish all extortion and oppressions in the same.
Therefore he wills, at his coming into Kent, that
every person dwelling therein, that findeth himself
grieved, oppressed, or unlawfully wronged, make
a bill of his complaint, and put it to his highness,
and he shall be heard ; and without delay have such
convenient remedy as shall accord with the laws."
He adds, " for his grace is utterly determined, that
all his true subjects shall live in rest and quiet, and
peaceably enjoy their lands and goods according to
the laws. He therefore chargeth, that no man, of
whatever condition, trouble, hurt, or spoil any of his
said subjects, or their bodies or goods, on pain of
death ; that none make or contrive quarrels ; nor
take any victuals without paying for them, nor vex
any farmer," &c.'*
^' Harl. MS. p. 281.
^ Harl. MS. This, and the preceding, have been printed in the notes'
to Kennet's Hist. v. 1. p. 576. So in his proclamation for the apprehen
sion of several who had taken arms against him, he declared his intent to
administer strict justice to all his subjects : and forbidding several evil
practices. MS. ib. p. 128.
14 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
On these principles he also acted, when, on re
ceiving information that a constable had been griev
ously maimed at Gloucester, by three riotous gen
tlemen, he dispatched a mandate from London, on
the 6th of December 1484, directing the imprison
ment of the assailants ; and prohibiting retainers,
liveries and their insignia, which united men into
bands, following great leaders.^' He even extended
his reforms to the offices of his ministers ; and would
not allow their minor situations to be purchased, to
the prejudice of the fair system of rising by seniority.^
These were all laudable acts, beneficial to his sub
jects, and fairly announcing his own desire to con
tribute to the happiness and to increase the morality
of his people ; but they were not likely, as he was cir
cumstanced, to add to his popularity. Reformation
of political grievances, whether real or imaginary, is
always a source of reputation, because it affects the
distant govei^nment, with which few are in immediate
contact ; while it leaves the individual critic and sup
porter untouched. But reformation of the private
conduct and manners is never popular, unless it ori
ginates from the most unquestionable and command
ing virtue. It interferes too much with our daily
habits, tempers, interests, pursuits, amusements, and
inclinations, to be cordially welcomed ; and from a
man of one great and known crime, would be always
suspected to be hypocrisy and art. The rudest mind
could say, what all would feel, " Murderer of your
^ Hari. MS. p. 127.
=* Thus, he ordered a person to be discharged ' from his place in the
office of the privy seal, to which he had been admitted by giving of great
gifts, and other sinister and ungodly ways, to the great discouraging of
the uuder-clerks, which have long continued therein, to see a stramrer
never brought up in the said office, put them bv from their promotion.'
MS. ib. p. 123. '
RICH. III.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 15
nephews! do you preach to us!" And when the chap.
powerful found him to be repressing their injustice J^_
and oppressions, would they not think or ask, What reign of
wrongs they had done or could do, which he had not
exceeded ! They could but seize lands or goods, or
one heiress, maid, or widow; but he had usurped
from its lawful possessor a throne ; and even while
he lectured and coerced them, was only able to do
so, by keeping the mighty spoil which he had seized.
Hypocrisy would be the general charge upon him
for all his efforts, however sincere, to produce those
moral amendments in society, by which he endea
vored to atone for his own errors. He had brought
himself into the dilemma, that all his wrong actions
would be deemed tyrannical, and his good ones
hypocritical ; and this evil has pursued his memory,
- as it abridged his life.
The strong outcry of tyranny, which has been why
raised aojainst Richard, and under reisrns, when the '^^"^'^ "
° ° tyrant.
liberties of the subject were little respected, seems
to have arisen not so much from actual cruelties
committed, which, in common language, convert a
king into a tyrant, but rather from those severe and
repeated exertions of legal power, by which he en
deavored to crush and extinguish discontent.^' Not
exceeding some former precedents of kingly autho
rity, he often used its antient privileges, with a pre
cipitation,^® a frequency, a publicity, an unqualified
*" Thus, when after the rebellion in the west, he indicted four persons
of distinction, as principals in treason, and above five hundred others, as
accessories, of whom only two were taken and suffered, and the rest fled,
he is said, by the chronicler, to have ' tyrannically persecuted them.'
HoUing. 746. It was unwise severity, but not tyranny.
^ Thus, he beheaded Buckingham, without arraignment or judgment.
Holling. 744; but Edward IV. and queen Margaret had done so with many
revolting nobles.
reign of
RICH. III.
16 HISTORY OF ENGL.AND7
BOOK display, and a rigorous impartiality, which, tho not
2_ contrary to the prior and permitted practice of the
crown, was justly becoming offensive to the im
proving reason, the more observing sense of justice,
the rising prosperity, and the wonted privileges of
the nation. Arbitrary government, even for good
purposes, was neither expedient nor palatable. No
one desired to abase the local despotisms of the
aristocracy, to set up that of the monarchy instead.
Hence, when Richard sent his mandates to seize
ships, mariners, soldiers, artificers, artists, victuals,
materials, conveyances and goods, whenever he
wanted them for his purposes, public or private ;^'^
— when he, even in his earnestness to have proper
persons in the provincial magistracies, charged the
bailiffs, &c. of Tamworth to have no regard to a
custom of choosing their bailiffs out of their burgesses
and freeholders, but to regard the suffisaunce of the
person's goods only;'* — when in pursuance of his
habit of acting vigorously, on the first moment of
any alarm, he signed a command to assist a yeoman
of the crown, in attacking certain persons in sundry
places of the west parts of England, " which he de
tected of certain things that they should do and at
tempt, against their natural duty and liegance ; " '"
when what he wanted for gunpowder, was thus
" As 'Warrant to aid and assist the king's clerk and counseller, A. L.
in taking up all vitaille, souldeoui-s, mariners, artificers, labourers, carts,
boats, and all other stuff; as horses, waynes, and all such timber and
stones as he shall think necessary, for the king's use;' dated 31 July 1485.
Harl. MS. p. 179. And ' Warrant to aid and assist J. P. in taking up,
at the king's price, suche and as many mariners, souldeours, &c. to do the
king service in certayne of his shippes ; and vitaille, and other things
behoveful for the same;' dated Scarborough, 30 June 1484. Ib. These
kind of mandates abound in this volume, and for all kinds of purposes.
== Hari. MS. p. 190; dated at Nottingham, 12 Oct. 1484.
'^ Ib. p. 1O9.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 17
forcibly taken,'" the nation was displeased at this
peremptory use of the royal authority. So his quick
and immediate pursuit and orders to seize all who
attempted any insurrections against him ; and his
unhesitating confiscation and granting away their
possessions, without waiting for legal sentences or
parliamentary attainders, occasioned great reproba
tion to him.** The number of respectable men,
crowded into one proclamation, startled the reader ;
and by such formidable enmity being displayed, his
own government was arraigned and endangered."'*
His policy outshot its own object, in confessing, that
so many men of their character and importance, had
combined against him. The number of thinking
minds and feeling hearts, which began to perceive
what good government ought to be, and' of what
evils this manner of ruling would be productive, were
increasing every year. They perceived, that such
despotic powers were grievances, which no tempo-
40 i Warrant to assist J. C. yeoman of the crown, to take, in the king's
name, all manner of stuff necessary for making of certain great stuff of
gunpowder, which John Bramburgh, a stranger-born, had covenanted
with the king to make for him ; and for the same to agree and make prices
with the owners.' 28 Jan. 1484. p. 145-
¦" There are many commissions and warrants of this sort, in the Hari.
MS.; as those to lord Stanley, to seize, to the king's use, the lands of
St. Leger,p. 134; others, to seize the lands and goods of sir W. Brandon,
143; of bishop Morton, 137; sir Roger Tocot, 145; and a great many
more. They were sometimes so general, as ' Warrant for the delivery of
all manner of sheep, horses, oxen, kine, swyne, and other cattle, to the
king, appertaining by the forfeiture of his rebels and traitors, within the
counties of Somerset and Dorset;' 6 Jan. 1484, p. 137; and ' Warrant
for selling the hay and corn, except wheat, of the said rebels,' 1 38. Wliat
a latitude for oppression, in the execurion of these mandates, must there
have been !
" Thus, a proclaraarion was issued for the taking of sir John Gilforde,
sir Thomas Lewknor, sir William Hawte, sir William Cheyney, Richard
Gilforde, Reynold Pympe, sir Edward Poynings, sir Thomas Feuys, sir
William Brandon, John Wingfelde, Anthony Kene, Nicholas Gaynesforde,
and several others, the king's rebels and traitors ; offering 300 marcs, or
10/. of land, for taking any of the first six, and lool. or ten marcS of
land, for any of the rest. Hari. MS. p. 128.
Vol, IV. C
18 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK rary benefit ought to sanction ; and as Richard, by
^^' ever moving in the shortest path to his desired ends,
was repeatedly enforcing them, the charge of tyranny
was fastened upon his reign ; and by the useful cla
mor, many future repetitions of it have been prevented.
If England were ever to be free and prosperous, it
was certainly time that such mandates of state should
be discountenanced and disused. His use of them
had the unintending merit of making former oppres
sions discreditable; and shewed to all administra
tions, that power reigns more safely by concealing
than by displaying its own extent.*^
His forced Qur ablest lawyers have acknowleged, that his
loans and . „ °
laws. statutes were wise and useful. In the enactment,
that his subjects should be no more charged by the
exactions or impositions called Benevolences," a
mode of raising money without parliament, he gra
tified the country. But altho, unfortunately for him
self, he destroyed his own popularity, and irritated
the country, by having recourse, in his future exi
gencies, to the very measure he had abrogated; it is
probable, that like all our sovereigns who have at
tempted to obtain supplies, by exerting their pre
rogative, he was afraid to summon a parliament,
when discontent increased upon him. He was too
" One instance, how unfairly Richard has been charged with tvr-.nmy,
appears in the imputation transmitted by More, and copied by all, that
he had Collingbourne executed for a satirical distich. See before, vol. 3.
last chap. But the truth was, that this man was arraigned for treasonable
at Michaelmas ; and to assure them, that, if Richmond would land at
Poole, he, and others, would cause the people lo rise in arras for him.
Also, to advise Richmond to send Cheney, to inform the French king
that Richard meant only to dally with his ambassadors till the winter
was over, and then to attack France ; and therefore, that it was Charies's
interest to aid Richmond immediately. Holling. 746.
¦" Stilt, of Realm, v. 2. p. 478.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 19
liberal, to be personally rapacious ; for when the
corporations of London, Gloucester and Worcester,
offered him money, he magnanimously refused it,
telling them he would rather have their hearts than
their property.*^ There was nothing mean or sordid
about him. But having emptied his exchequer by
his bounties to men, who were enabled by his own
generosity more effectually to betray him ; and
pressed by Richmond's impending invasion and the
domestic conspiracies which it excited, he allowed
himself to use his power to extort money on the
plea of necessity — the tyrant plea — which contri
buted to fix that character upon him, and its conse
quential evils.*®
Besides some beneficial regulations on those im
portant modes of transferring landed property, which
are called fines and feoffments, and others, to rectify
abuses in the petty but useful temporary courts called
Pie-powdre, held during fairs ; besides annulling
certain patents to Edward's queen ; and some statutes
on manufactures and trade f he sanctioned three
most serviceable enactments for the relief of his
subjects, from the oppression of their superiors.
One was, that on arrest for suspicion of felony, every
justice of the peace should have power to bail ;**
another, that the property of persons imprisoned for
felony, should not be seized before conviction ;*' a
law, which, in treason, his own conduct sometimes
counteracted ; and the third, which directed that
none should be returned for juries, but those who had
¦•* We learn this from Rous, Hist. p. 2l6.
^ More says, that, being ' obliged to pill and spoil in other places, this
got him stedfast Itatred.' p. 154.
•" Stat. Realm, v. 2. pp. 477. 480-498.
" Ib. 478.
<* Stat. Realm, v. 2, p. 479. c 2
20 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK forty shillings a-year freehold; because so many
^- untrue verdicts had been given by persons " of no
substance or behaviour, and not dreading God or
worldly shame :" and thereby several had, thro the
excitation of their evil willers, been wrongfully in
dicted, and others improperly spared.^" It was the
weakness of Richard's mind, to let the urgencies of
the moment defeat the provisions of his deliberate
judgment. His good laws" gave the people that
knowlege and taste of a better system, which made
them resent, more indignantly, his own subsequent
breaches of it ; as he then assumed a dispensing
right, which no common sense could approve.
While such masses of military retainers and badged
followers obeyed the orders of the great nobility and
gentry, it was of small avail to a king to be popular
among the nation, if the aristocracy were either in
different or averse to him. Till the full use of artil
lery made armor either useless or prejudicial to its
wearers, none without it, could stand in battle against
the mailed assailants, or who had not learnt to act in it
with strength and agility, or who were not powerful
in archery. Hence, the common population who
had not been trained by a due military education,
were but a mob, that was sure to be broken as soon
as attacked ; and this state of warfare made the
antient aristocracy of the country the terror of the
crown, whenever its feelings united against the
reigning sovereign.
It was the number of followers which the nobility
^ Stat. Realm, v. 2. p. 479.
=' But as Richard could gain no favor for any thing, even ' his pohtic
and wholesome laws,' (Bacon says, and without a word of counteraction)
' were interpreted to be but the brocage of an usurper, thereby to woo
and win the hearts of the people.' Hist. Hen. \'II.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 21
and gentry retained or could assemble and exhibit, chap.
under the family insignia of their crest or other J^
device, which gave them the power of thus endan- reign of
gering the throne, and of doing much sudden mis- ^J^
chief, and many oppressions. To abate this evil Hisrepres-
in the country; Richard was steady in discounte- re°thiueot^
nancing the antient custom of giving liveries, badges, ^^^ s^at.
ensigns, cognizances or other distinctive clothing or
ornaments to any. He issued several prohibitions of
this sort, very necessary to the peace and improve-
ment of the country, but very displeasing to those
who had the means of conferring what they could
make so useful to their violences. The sheriffs of
various counties, and mayors of various cities and
towns, were instructed to forbid both the granting or
wearing this dangerous costume, and. also the re
ceiving them from any person whomsoever.'^ This
was an attack on the pride and power of the great
and rich, as bold as it was patriotic.^' But all his
measures to lessen their oppressions, altho wise of
themselves, and kind to the people at large, neces
sarily displeased the aristocracy ; and may be con
sidered as a far more active cause of its enmity
against him, than their moral sympathies on his
nephews'fate. Noclass surrenders accustomed power,
without enmity to the hand that exacts the loss. In
these public benefits of Richard, we see the real
cause of his unpopularity with the higher orders.
Hence, his reign is truly characterized by Polydore
=» See Hari. MS. pp. Ul, 138, 210, 188, and many other places. One
example may suffice. The mayor of Bedford was commanded to make
open proclamation, that none of the inhabitants take or receive any re
tainers, liveries, clothings, or cognizance, of any person whatsoevei-;
26 Sept. 1484. p. 188.
" Ib. Lord Bacon admits, that he was ' a good lawyer for the eqae
and solace of the common people.' Hist, p, 2.
c 3
22 BOOK V.
His con
duct to
wards the
church.
HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
Virgil, in two words, " nobilium defectionem," the
disaffection of his nobility.'* He was becoming too
good a king, to suit their interests ; and yet his life
might have given the crown a disproportionate
authority instead. The constitutional balance was
perhaps best maintained, by the events that were
permitted or directed to occur.
His fastidious use and display of his regal state,
revealed too large a personal vanity to create attach
ment.'* Every one has too much of this weakness
to endure it from another ; and as the pomp of
Richard was too expensive for the less affluent of the
gentry, and too self-prominent not to make the
wealthier feel a great comparative diminution in his
presence, it increased, instead of abating, his personal
unpopularity. He seems to have discovered the
impropriety of his long desertion of his metropolis,
for he was chiefly in it during the last twelve months
of his life.'*
His position, as to the church establishment, com
pelled him to make enemies, whatever course of
conduct he should adopt. To shield it, was to dis
satisfy all those who desired a participation of its
wealth, a reduction of its luxury, a relaxation of its
''* Pol. Virg. 565.
'^ His wardrobe, and love of finery, has been already noticed. He
gave his queen 4^ yards of purple cloth of gold, upon damask. Hari. MS.
p. 130. He licensed a merchant of Genoa to bring to England, ' dya-
mount and other gemmys, or pretious stones, that if they be for the king's
pleasure, he may have the first purchase thereof before all other.' g Dec.
1484. Ib. He authorized Alderman Shaw to bring out of France, &c.
' all manner of gold and silver, and pretious stones, without paying cus
tom.' Ib. p. 210. These were apparently for the king. Divers pieces
of his rich plate are mentioned in the receipt for them, p. 212, to be used
in the north.
™ Excepting one short excursion to Canterbury, in November 1484,
and occasional visits to Windsor, in December, January, February, April
and May, he was in the metropolis from the beginning of November 1484,
to the June preceding his fall, as appears by the grants ill the Harl MS.
RICH. in.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 2a
doctrinal despotism,, and a diminution of its temporal chap,
powers ; and who would expect an usurped reign to ^•
be most adverse to antient bigotry. To favor the reign of
opponents of the possessioned church, was to ensure
its enmity ; and even his warlike brother, who at
first inclined against it, had at length bent, from his
love of ease and quiet, to its power. In September,
he may have still hesitated ; " but on the 2d of
October 1 484, he publicly shewed, that he had de
cided to uphold it ; for he issued a mandate, com
manding that twenty acres of pasture, which had
been taken from the convent at Pomfret, should be
restored to it ; and he took the occasion to tell the
nation in it, that he had called " to remembrance
the dreadful sentence of the church against all those
persons who wilfully attempt to usurp unto them
selves, against good conscience, possessions or other
things of right belonging to the church; and the
great peril of soul which might ensue by the same.'"*
It is extraordinary that he should so far forget his
own usurpation as to suppose that this language
could have any other effect than to make its readers
indignant at its hypocrisy, or self-delusion, and to
ensure its being contemptuously retorted upon
himself. Whether he felt this result, cannot be affirmed ;
but he seems to have paused awhile on this subject,
tho he received the archbishop of Canterbury into his
favor, in the December following.'"
In February 1484, the clergy of England met in
"On the 23d of September 1484, he seized on the bishop of Salisbury's
temporalities. Harl. MS. p. 117.
»« Ilari. MS. 121.
^ On the Bth of December 1484, he stated this to his grace's tenants,
and ordered them to pay him their rents. Ib. 128.
c 4
24 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK convocation; and from that addressed to him a pe-
V- tition, complaining that churchmen were cruelly,
reign of grievously, and daily troubled, vexed, indicted, and
RjcH^^n^ arrested ; drawn out of church, and without due re
verence, even from the altar, by malicious and evil-
disposed persons, notwithstanding all the censures,
anathematizations and curses, yearly promulgated
and fulmined by the holy father the pope, and in all
the churches of England ; so that they could not be
resident on their benefices, to execute duly and de
voutly their office.""
This complaint shews, that both the law and the
laity were steadily attacking the ecclesiastical pro
perty and privileges.
They proceed to express to him a most emphatical
compliment, some months after the circulated ac
count of his nephews' deaths, which, as coming from
the dignified representatives of the whole body of
the English clergy, becomes a kind of sacred testi
mony to his character ; it must either have been a
phrase of the most consummate hypocrisy, or must
be allowed to counterbalance, in no small degree,
the defamation that has pursued him. They say, ^' in
eschewing whereof, seeing your most noble and
BLESSED DISPOSITION IN ALL OTHER THINGS, we
beseech you to take tender respect and consideration
unto the premises, and of yourself, as a most ca
tholic prince, to see such remedies, that under your
most gracious letters patents, the liberties of the
church may be confirmed, and sufficiently authorized
by your high court of parliament, rather .enlarged
than diminished.""'
™ See the document in these words, in Wilk. Concil. v. 3. p. 614.
The convocation met on the 3d of February 1484.
"' Wilk. Con. V. 3. p. 614.
OF
RICH. iir.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 25
The clergy appear to have persuaded him to chap
become their patron and protector ; for there is an _^
official document addressed to them, declaring, that reign
the king had confirmed all their liberties to them, as
in their patent made by Edward IV."^ He also re
leased the dean of York and others, from paying
tenths or fifteenths, during their lives;"' but it was
not till the 1st of March 1484, that he wrote to pope
Sextus IV. promising to do him obedience, by the
bishop of St. David's ; and excusing his not having
done it before, on account of the conspiracies he had
to suppress,"* altho that of Buckingham's was ended
in the October preceding. But now, having fixed his
determination to uphold the church as it was, he sent
the prelate to him, as the ambassador of his sub
mission ; and solicited the pontiff to give a cardinal's
hat to his bishop of Durham."' In the following
December, he sent both these bishops to give his
obedience to the new pope Innocent IV."" Yet, while
he offended all the liberalizing minds of the country,
by upholding the superstitions and systems which so
many wished to modify, he was soon compelled to
alter his conduct; for in March 1485, we find him
invading one of their most stoutly-claimed privileges,
by issuing a warrant to take up sir Lewis Deyken,
priest, for certain great murders, robberies, and other
detestable offences, which he had committed ; "^ and
in May such differences had arisen between him and
St. Peter's chair, that he signed a commission to
«2 Hari. MS. 44. «' Hari. MS. 53.
"' Rym.Foed. 12. p. 214; and Hari. MSS.
"5 Rym. Feed 12. p. 216. "« Ib. p. 253.
'" Hari. MS. 210. This person seems to have escaped from Radnor
castle ; for there is a pardon to his keeper for it. Ib. 94.
2G HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK examine if the pope's bull, sent into Guernsey, was
^" hurtful to his interests."*
Richard had so turned the eye of public criticism
upon his actions, that he could do nothing that would
be deemed unobjectionable, or that would not be
objected to. Other sovereigns, by indolence, retiring
conduct, or by management, put all the public re
sponsibility of their conduct on their ministers; but
Richard, unfortunately for himself, was so personally
active, and so fond of shewing that he. was so, that
he was supposed to do every thing; and therefore
blamed for whatever occurred. He would have been
more effectively and more safely the king, if he had
striven less to be so ; but he loved to feel his power,
and to exert it himself, and to be seen to do so. He
had too gross a sense of royalty. He did not confine
himself to the interior and more exquisite enjoyment
of it, which usually attends native and habitual great
ness. He wanted the vulgar and animal gratification
from it, which a man, raised suddenly from the dust
to the throne, may be supposed to crave ; but which
the brother of a king, accustomed all his life to courtly
splendor, ought neither to have valued nor demanded.
Without stretching flattery so far, as to assert that
he had a most blessed disposition, some new facts
may be adduced, to shew that he was not an unna
tural anomaly. His letter to his mother, after he
became king, is expressed in an attentive and affec
tionate style."" But the register of his official acts,
^' Rym. Feed, 12. p. 269.
•^ It was written in June 1484. Harl. MS.
' Madam,
' I recommend me to you as heartily as is to me possible, beseeching
you, in my most humble and affectuouse wise, of your daily blessing, to
my singular comfort and defence in my need. And, madam, I heartily
beseech you, that I may often hear from you, to my comfort. And such
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 27
shews many personal civilities to the ladies of his chap.
political enemies, from which, as they have never ^'
been noticed, he has not had his deserved praise. J^eign op
Altho lord Oxford was his implacable enemy to > — !„ — j
his last breath, yet he granted his lady a pension of
lOo/. a year, during the earl's exile and hostility.™
To lady Hastings, the widow of the peer he had de
stroyed, he intrusted, with a generous magnanimity,
the keeping of all her castles, and presented her with
the wardship and marriage of her son and heir ; ^^
altho this latter must have been a most valuable
pecuniary favor, that many were suing for; and tho
it gave her the power of educating her son with the
revengeful spirit of hostility against him : from this
youth he took off the attainder. Nothing could be
a greater act of atoning kindness to her, and of
liberal confidence, unless it was another official
instrument, which he signed at Reading, on the 13th
of July, a month after he had made her a widow, by
which he covenanted to her to protect her and her
children in all their possessions, wardships, and other
just rights ; to suffer none to do them wrong, and to
assist them upon all occasions, as their good and
gracious sovereign lord.^* Sir Thomas More says,
that he loved Hastings. These documents prove an
unusual regard, and great good feeling, that he should
news as be here, my servant, Thomas Brian, this bearer, shall show you,
to whom please it yon to give credence unto.
' And, Madam, I beseech you to be good and gracious lady to my lord,
my chamberlain, to be your officer in Wiltshire, in such as Colingbourne
had. I trust he shall therein do you good service : and that, if it please
you, by this bearer, I may understand your pleasure in this behalf. And
I pray God send you the accomplishment of your noble desires.
' yyritten at Pomfret, the 3d day of June, with the hand of
' Your most humble Son,
' Ricardus Rex,'
'° Hari. MS, p. 53. ¦" Ib. 27. '= Ib. 108.
28 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK have taken such a zealous care of his family after-
^- wards. To the widowed duchess of Buckingham
he gave an annuity of 200 marcs." He sent her
permission to come, with her servants and children,
to London. '^* He gave a safeguard to Florence, the
wife of Alexander Cheyney ; and expressed in it,
that " for her good and virtuous disposition, he had
taken her into his protection, and granted to her the
custody of her husband's lands and property, tho,
being confederated with certain rebels and traitors,
he had intended and compassed the utter destruction
of the king's person." " He ordered the officers and
tenants of the estates, which had been settled on
lady Rivers, as her jointure, to pay to her all their
rents and duties ; '^" and he took off the sequestration
he had put on the lands of an outlaw, that his wife
might have the benefit of them." He seems, by their
number, to have taken pleasure in doing acts of good
nature and courtesy to the female sex. He settled an
nuities on many widows, and other ladies.'^* He
paid one, the arrears of a pension given to her by
Edward IV.™ tho future kings rarely heed their
predecessors debts or bounties. He granted to lady
Dynham four tons of wine yearly.^" He confirmed an
annual allowance, which he had made as duke of
Gloucester ; " and settled a small one on the widow
of an herald ; *^ and a larger one on the sister of lord
Lovel.^' All these were acts of kindness, which, if he
had been of that malicious, envious and brutal nature,
" Harl. MS. p. 77. " lb. 1.35. « Ib. 126.
'" lb. 166. " lb. 77.
" For many of these, see Hari. MS. pp. 37, 41, 46, 58, 71, 76, 170,
&c. &c.
'" I'^ 205. «» Ib. 89. 81 lb. 200.
=Mb.9l. 83 lb.
reign op
RICH. £ir.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 29
which has been ascribed to him, he would not have chap.
performed. A gift to the monks of an abbey burnt J__
down ; ** and to a merchant, towards his losses in
trade ; *' a protection for requiring alms to a man,
whose dwelling-house and property, with his thir
teen tenements, had been all consumed by fire, to his
utter undoing ; and his recommendation of him, as
having kept a good household, by which many poor
creatures had been refreshed;®" his payment of
Buckingham's debts ; *' and of the bishop of Exeter's,
who pursued him with hostility to his last hour;®®
and his commission to the hermit of the chapel of
Reculver, that had been ordained for the burial of
those who should perish by storms, to receive alms
to rebuild its roof; *" the grant of an annuity, for good
service done to his father:'" — ^all these attentions
display a temper of the same good feelings which
we desire to see in every well-directed mind. There
is nothing of the common, cruel, crook-backed
Richard about them. It is clear that he had a heart
and sympathies much like our own, tho at one inter
val he fiirgot their claims. It is a petty circumstance,
but it tends to the same point, of shewing that he
possessed a common nature of urbanity with the rest
of his species, that he did not neglect the custom then
in use, of 'presenting his friends with new year's
gifts."' He may have been wrathful, as More inti-
niates,"^ which we may understand to mean, that he
was irritable, peremptory and impatient of delay,
hesitation or opposition to his plans or of his wishes ;
»* Hari. MS. p. 153. «' Ib. 101. «« Ib. 148.
" Ib. 64, 97. «8 Ib 208. '^ Ib. 215. * lb. 120.
" There is a warrant to pay alderman Shaw ' 200 marcs, for certene
hewe yeres giftes, bought of him, against the fest of Cristymesse.' Ib.
p. 148.
« More, p. 154.
30 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK and this temper, arising from energy and excitability,
V- may have constituted that feritas naturae, that fierce-
REiGN OF ness of nature, which has been charged upon him.
RicH^^ But if the imperfections and exacerbations of human
sensibility are crimes, who is there that is unsinning?
He buries It is a remarkable instance of the jaundiced eye,
ri'eSilthS ^^^^ which even the laudable actions of this king
Windsor, have been wilfully contemplated, that altho one con
temporary historian, who was no flatterer of him,
has mentioned to his praise, that in August 1484,
he caused the body of Henry VI. which had been
obscurely buried at Chertsey, to be brought to Wind
sor, with great solemnity,"^ and to be interred with
his royal predecessors there ; an act of respectful
kindness to the memory of this inoffensive king, and
very creditable to his own feelings ; yet the clergy,
who, in his lifetime, had extolled " his noble and
blessed disposition,"®* in February 1484, when all
his worst actions had been committed ; ten years
only afterwards, in 1494, under the reign of his
successor, when it had become loyal to abuse him,
mentions this removal from Chertsey to Windsor,
with an invective against him, and as an instance of
his malignity of nature, that had extinguished all
piety and humanity in him.®' They declare, that he
transferred the corpse to Windsor, because he en
vied Henry's name, and desired to stop the eon-
course of people that flocked to his former tomb ; ®"
and yet but ten lines before, they had described
Chertsey as a place " certainly hidden, and remote
P Rous, p, 218. " See before, p. 24.
?* In their address to the pope, to remove Henry VI. to Westminster,
they say of Richard, on his re-interment, ' in quern feritas naturae, animae-
que malignitas, omnem pietatem atque humanitatem penitus extinxerat.'
Wilk. Concil. 3. p. 635.
"« Ib.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 31
from the common access of the public, and not fit for C li ap.
the sepulchre of so great a king."®^ These gross _L
inconsistencies shew, that the most calumnious mis- '^"^^ "f
representations pursued even the most honorable > — , — ^
actions of this defamed sovereign. It was magna
nimous in Richard, after the slanderous imputafions
he had suffered about Henry's death,®® to bring the
subject again full before the contemplation of the
nation by his state removal and funeral, after the old
king had been thirteen years in his royal grave ; and it
is inconceivable how even party rage could distort
a royal interment at Windsor, a place of high cele
brity and great public resort, into an envious desire
of committing the corpse to oblivion and neglect.
It was an act of generous attention to the conve
nience of his people, that altho Edward IV. had for
his own hunting gratification annexed a great circuit
of country to the forest of Wichwood, and appro
priated it to his own use, yet Richard, notwithstand
ing his attachment to the chase, to please the people,
disforested it, and threw it open to the public.®® But
his popular actions procured him no favor from the
lordly aristocracy, which sought only the continuance
of its own oppressive bondage.
Among the amusements of Richard's leisure hours. His per-
he seems to have been attached to music ; but to have tastes and
gratified his taste for it by exertions of authority pleasures-
more suitable to that age than to our own. He
'¦'' Wilk. Concil, 3. p, 635.
'^ This same document, written in 1494, gives important evidence,
that Richard did not, in their opinion, kill king Henry. For tho they
strive, obviously, by their epithets, to blacken him ; yet, instead of charg
ing this murder upon him, they expressly impute it to Edward IV. Their
words are, that llenry, ' in miseranda fata concesserat jussu Edwardi,
tunc Angliae regis.' Ib.
*> Rous, 216.
RICH. III.
32 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK empowered one of the gentlemen of his chapel, "to
• take and seize for the king, all such singing men and
REIGN OF children, expert in the science of music, as he could
find, and think able to do the king service, in all
places in the kingdom, whether cathedrals, colleges,
chapels, monasteries, or any other franchised places,
except Windsor.""" Such an arbitrary order as this,
may shew his passion for this fascinating art, but
must have offended wherever it was executed. He was
visited by minstrels from foreign countries, and to
several other minstrels he gave annuities ; *"' and also,
perhaps, from his fondness for their sonorous state
music, to several trumpeters.'"''
Falconry and hawking appear to have been favorite
pastimes to him. There is a grant to the master of
the king's hawks, and the keeper of the mews near
Charing Cross ;"^ and he issued a commission to
take at reasonable price, such goshawks, tarcells,
falcons, lanerettes and other hawks, as could be
gotten in Wales or its marches, as should be neces
sary for the king's disports."* A similar warrant
was applied to the same object in England ; "' he
dispatched a person to parts beyond the sea, to purvey
hawks for him ; "" and he had a sergeant of the falcons
in England."'
Hunting was also his amusement; we find his
'»" Hari. MS. p. 189.
'"' As, to Robert Green, minstrel, ten marcs ; the same to J, Hawkyns,
Hari. MS. p. 46. Two minstrels had come from the duke of Austria,
p. 190 ; and two from the duke of Bavaria, p. 210.
"" Three of them are mentioned, to each of whom he gave a yearly
payment of ten marcs. Hari. MS. pp. 78,96, 104.
'" Hari. MS. p. 53.
'"' Ib. p. 214. It is dated 27 March 1485.
""' Dated at Westminster, 8 March 1485. Ib.
'°= Dated 1 1 March. Ib.
'"' The grant of this is in the same MS. p. 103.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES, 33
payments to a knight, the master of his hart-hounds, CHAP,
and a regular establishment of dogs and servants ; "® J^
and persons were restrained from hunting in the park reign of
of Sheynsham, in Worcestershire, without special ,^^f^^;_J^
leave ; because the king desired to have this park
replenished with game, and kept for his disport
against his resorting into those parts,"®
Besides these amusements, less refined pleasures
sometimes interested his notice ; for there is a letter
to all the mayors and sheriffs of the island, command
ing them not to vex or molest John Browne, whom
be calls, " our trusty servant and bear-ward ;" and
whom he says, " we have made master-guider and
ruler of all our bears and apes, to us appertaining,"
within England and Wales; he speaks of them in the
phrases of strong attachment.'"
He was commended by a contemporary, for his
encouragement of architectuue"'; and there are
many of his grants which prove his attention to it.
His works in the Tower,"^ and at Windsor castle,'"
"^ Harl. MS. p. 19,5. The appointments were, I2rf. a day for himself;
7J d. a day for a servant ; 8d. for two yeoman riders ; id. for two yeoman
vantrers ;*8rf. for two yeomen on foot; 6d. for two grooms; and 6\d. a
Jay for the keeping and expense of two horses, in the said office ; and
3.?. 4.d. for the meat of forty dogs and twelve greyhounds, MS p, 49.
i<» P. 178.
"° Ib. p. 139. It is dated 6 Jan, 1484, He adds a charge, that no
one ' unquiet, vex, or trouble him or his servants, keepers of our said
bears and apes ; but to him, and the keepers of our said game, for our
pleasure, ye show loving benevolence and favor, and them courteously
receive and intreat; to you reasonable money paying; and not suffering
any manner of person, in that ye goodly may, otherwise to vex, molest,
or grieve them.'
'" Rous refers to Westminster, Nottingham, Warwick, York, Middle-
ham, and other places, as justifying his epithets, ' in edificiis laudandus.'
p. 216.
'" His warrant for those, vfas to his Serjeant carpenter, to take carpen
ter's timber,&c. for the hasty speed of his works there. MS. p. 227.
'" Ib. 211,
Vol, IV, D
34 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK and in the palace of Westminster,"* at Barnard
^'- castle, at a palace in London, called The Ewer ; at
REIGN OF the castles of Killingworth, Rockingham, Sudely,
.^l!!^ Nottingham, Tutbury, Somerhall and York ; '" and
in his palace at the latter city ; "" a stone cross at
Brecon, a bridge in Somerset, churches at King's
college, Cambridge ; "' and in Wales, are also no
ticed. Nor did he spare trouble and expense to
procure the best materials ; for there is a licence to
a person to go to France and Normandy, and to buy
there, for the king, certain tons of Caen stone, and
also plaster and glass for his works."® But he pur
sued his taste with the full exertion of the royal
authority as then claimed ; for he signed a warrant
to take up all artificers, stuff, and carriages, as should
be necessary for the furtherance and accomplish
ment of the works at York castle."®
His aiten- Foreign trade experienced his attention and pro-
trade, tection. The merchants of Italy and theHanse Towns
had their privileges confirmed.'^" Several foreigners
were made denizens.'^' One merchant received a gift
of 40/. in alleviation of the losses he had suffered. '^^
Leave was given to transport wool beyond the
"^ Hail, MS. p. 204. This warrant is dated 17 Dec. 1484. It was,
therefore, distinct from his fortifications there.
"* Ib. 175. 187, igo. 192, 193. 203. 207. 218.
"« Ib, 179. '" Ib. 190. 209,210. "" Ib. 213.
"" Ib. 187. He had, before this warrant, authorized the dean of York
and Ratcliffe ' to take all manner of workmen and stuff, for the hasty
expedition of his works,' Ib .183. There are several of these peremptory,
and, as they would now be, arbitrary and illegal orders.
'» Ib. 85.
"' A goldsmith of EastFriesland, p. 28; three Dutchmen, 28,34,56;
a booker of Florence, 74; other persons, 36, &c. It is curious, that a
Welshman was then deemed, in law, so much !^n alien foreigner, as to be
made atlenizen, MS. p. 85.
"" Ib. 101.
DURING THE MIDDLE AG'ES. 35
Straits of Morocco.'*^ The Spanish procurator of CHAP.
Biscay, had such confidence in his stability, as to ^
covenant to pay him 1600/. in eight years;'" and
appears to have advanced him so much money as to
have a warrant to receive 8000 crowns of gold from
the customs on imported Spanish goods. '^' He con
firmed to the foreign manufacturers of cloths, the
liberty of dwelling in Wales, Ireland, or England ; '^"
but compelled foreign importers to sell their goods
wholesale, and if not disposed of within a certain
time, to take them out of the country.""' The mer
chants of Spain appear to have had many transactions
with him.'^®
Several licences were granted for ships to sail to
Iceland. This volcanic rock of snow and ice above,
and fire below, seems to have been much frequented
•in Richard's time, and to have drawn his particular
attention, tho licences were required for the voyages
and their freights.'^®
'^ Harl, MS. p. 104. From Venice, there is an entry of 11,000 bow-
staves, and another of 7000, and afterwards of 185,000. Ib. p. 71.
"' Ib. p. 100. ™ lb. '^ Ib. 65,
'" Stat, of Realm, v, 2.
'^ The substance of two documents in the Harl. MS. implies this.
One is, that ' Petre de Salamanca, Petre de Valiadolet, Diego de Castro,
Sancio de Valinafedo, Fernando de Carion, Johan Pardo, Diego de Cada-
go, Alfonso de Lyon, Martino de Cordova, Gonsalo de Salamanca, mer
chants of Spain, should have 200 i. of the customs and subsidies coming
of whatsoever clothes, grayned or ungrayned, and of other merchandizes
whatsoever, by them charged in the port of IjOndon, or elsewhere in
England.' p, 76. The other directs, that ' Petre Salamanca, Sanchei de
Valmazeda, Johan Pardo, Diego de Cadagna, Fernand de Carrion, Mar
tyn de Ordogna, Diego de Castro, Peter de Valdsliyt, and Martyn de
Malverda, have licence to perceeve 400 marks of the customs and sub
sidies, coming of all manner of woollen cloths, grayned or ungrayned;
of lede, tynne, alum, wyne, yron, to be shipped in the ports of London
and Southampton.' p. 99.
'® One licence is, to a name like that of Jane Shore's husband. ' Wil.
liam Shore, merchant of London, and Robert Chapman, of Kingston-
upon-HoU, have a licence to pass to Island, vvith two shipps of the por
tage of iiii tonnes. The licence during a year.' p. 88, A fuller account
of two others will give an idea of the intercourse allowed to this place.
D 2
RICH. 111.
3? HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK Weak in body, afflicted by sickness, but powerful
^- in mind, it was on that mind Richard necessarily
REIGN OF relied ; and by exerting the faculties, which he felt
to be vigorous within him, he endeavored to accom
plish all he wished. In personal strength, he could
not compete with his enemies. This was a gift of
nature, and of its author, which was not subject to
his command. But his reason, his conceptions, his
resolution, his power of foreseeing, combining and
deciding thought; his quickness to act, and his
energy of action ; these were within the compass of
his own power, and obedient to his ambitious and
aspiring soul. Hence, the infirmities of the exterior
man, made his interior spirit more essential to his
use, and more precious in his estimation. He felt
that he towered in mind, tho he had not the ad
vantage of body; and when he added to it the au
thority and means of royal power, he was delighted
' To all owners, masters, and mariners of the navye, of the counties of
Norfolk, and Suffolk, as well fishers as others intending to depart to the
ports of Island :
' As we understand, that certain of you intend hastely to depart to
wards Island, not purveyed of waught for your surety in that behalve.
We charge you, that none of you depart out of any of the havens in this
our realm, without our licence; and that you gather and assemble you, in
such of our havens of Norfolk and Suffolk as ye shall think most conve
nient, well harnyssed and apparellyd, for your own suretie; and so de
part altogether toward Hunibre, to attend there upon our ships of Hull,
as your waughters for the surety of you all ; and that you keep together.'
' 23 Feb. Anno 1,' 159,
' To all merchants, fishermen, masters, mariners and other our subjects,
now being in the parties of Island. We have granted and commanded
William Combresliall, captain ofourship named the Elizabeth, to depart
with the same towards you, and to be your conveyor and master, to such
place as he shall think convenient, as well for your suretie as for other
great causes. We will that ye dispose you to be ordered and guided by
him, and in no wise to depart from him, unto such time as the whole fleet
of you shall come to anchor, and meet with others of our army upon the
sea, on pain of forfeiting your ships and goods,'
' 6 July. A" 2°.' 180.
DUllING THE MIDDLE AGES. 37
to exert acquisitions, in which he knew that he sur
passed all surrounding competition.
Hence flowed what one author calls his horrible
vigilance and celerity,"" because his intellect alwaj^s
rushed to anticipating and decisive energies. Hence,
a contemporary also gives to this quality and habit
of action, the epithet of excessive.'" He was too
rapid, too decisive, too violent, too impatient. He
struck before others saw the emerging danger, or
felt the necessity of the precautionary rigor. His
brother's error had been careless negligence ; and
his fault was a preventive activity, which was mis
construed to be remorseless tyranny. By leaving
nothing undone that could be done, he was always
doing too much for his own quiet, or for the appro
bation of his contemporaries. Every one dreaded a
perspicacity and a precipitation, which left no time
for recollecting repentance, and no hope of mercy.
His little habit, deemed so horrible, of always play
ing, or we may say, fidgetting with his dagger, pul
ling it continually half in and out with his right
hand,'*^ was but a mark of a restless impatience of
spirit, which could not even let its fingers be quiet.
It is unnecessary to ascribe it to any ferocious na
ture ; the mildest men have many unmeaning habits
of such moving dumb-show.
Richard would have reigned more happily, with
less talent, or with greater apathy,'^^ It is oftener
the safest wisdom to leave the course of things to
¦™ Pol. Virg. 552, "' ' Nimis,' Croyl,
'^ Pol. Virg. 565.
'33 The proclamation of Perkin Warbeck, being addressed to popular
feeling, may be considered as expressing the general estimate of Richard's
reign. ' Tho desire of rule did bind him, yet, in his other acrions, he
was noble; and loved the honor of the realm, and the contentment and
comfort of his nohles and people.' Bacon's Hist, p, 615..
D 3
38
BOOK V.
REIGN OF
RICH. lU.
WhetherColumbus was in
Richard's
HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
their own results, and to make their own remedies,
than by anticipating or precipitating measures, to
attempt to control them, or to prevent those conse
quences which we dread or dislike. Many appre
hended evils never occur, and many that are pro
duced, disappear of themselves, which hasty or too
precautionary interference only aggravate or change
into worse. But Richard was too prone to think,
that human vigilance could not be too active and
foreseeing ; nor the exertions of human policy too
immediate, vigorous, and decisive. Hence, he tended
to out-run the tardier perceptions of his friends ;
and created alarm instead of security, dread instead
of attachments, and the desire of a less wakeful and
strenuous master, instead of that confiding regard
and personal affection which he coveted, and by
which alone he could be secure. The more he
punished, the more he found he had to punish ; till
he diffused an indifference to his government, and a
secret approbation of the plans of others to have
a milder dynasty. He did not wait to let time do,
imperceptibly and inoffensively, much of what he
wished to have done ; and his forcing violence
exasperated his contemporaries, and ruined himself.'^*
"' Some grants of Richard in the Harl. MS. N° 433, have induced me
to consider whether they related to the celebrated Columbus. I cannot
satisfy myself that they do, and yet the possibility is so interesting, that
r think it right to note the facts on which that surmise occurred, and
leave them to the chance of future confirmation or refutal. If he be the
person alluded to, some other documents may occur 10 some future en
quirer, that will elucidate the point; or others may shew that they do
not concern him.
Observing some grants to Christopher Colyns, I thought they meant
the common name of Collins, and passed them over. But remembering
that the name with which Columbus chose to go into Spain, was Cliris-
lopher Colon ; and seeing, in the same MS., deacon spelt dekyn, as in
p. 238, and Cologne, Coleyn, p. 19(1; and that Caxton spells this town
Colen, (Dest. Troy, 2nd. p, 134,) I could not avoidasking myself, if this
Christopher Colyns could have, been but u varying orlhography for Chris-
REIGN OP
RICH. III.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. »S>
topher Colon. Names and words are frequently spelt in the MS. with CHAP.
as much variation, as Tyddor for Tudor ; Rauffe for Ralph ; Herry for rr
Henry, Wolstre for Ulster, weire for wur, &c. '__
The notices of the grants to which I refer in the Harleian MS.
are as follows: —
1. ' Christofre Colyns hath the ship called the Barbara, of
Fowey, which was taken with staple ware, and forfeauted, given
to him of the king's rewarde.' 94.
a. ' Christofre Colyns hath a privie seale to sir Thomas Thwayt,
tresourer of Calais, to content him 20 1, which he deliveredWilliam
Bolton, to content certain souldiours in Guysnes.' Ib.
3. ' Christofre Colyns hath a privie seale to the treasourer and
chamberlaine, to content unto him 128 Z. 4.S. 2d. in redy money ;
and make unto him assignment of the same, by the said Christofrei
paid for the wages of 200 men.' 100.
4. ' Christofre Colyns hath a warrant, directed to the sheriff
and escheator of Kent, charging them to deliver unto him, or the
bringer thereof, as muche tymbre to be taken out of the fielde
called Huntyngdon fielde, beside Feversham, as his workmen shall
think will serve for fence grattes, and the posts of a drawbridge,
at the castell of Quenesburgh ; and for the flores in the porter's
lodge there ; and also for an axiltre for a mille. Given the 16th
day of February, an. 2°.' 207.
5. ' A commission to al maires and others, showing, that
Christofir Colyns, constable of the castell of Quynsburgh, or
William Constable, his brother, hath auctoritie and power to take
masons, stones, carcases, tylers and dawbers, vessails, and othre
necessaries for the ^vorks in the said castell. Given at Lond. the
loth of April, an. 2°.' 512.
6. ' Christofre Colyns hath a warrant to the treasourer and
chamberlayn of the exchequer, to make assignment unto him, by
taille or tallies, in due form, at the receipt of the exchequer, to
him and Thomas Cotton, as collector of the subsidie in London,
of the some of 3 1, appointed to the said Cristofre for his reward,
and 27 1, for his habiliments of warre, &c.' 63. ' Christofer
Colyns, th' office of constable of the castell of Queneburgh, and the
mylne to the said castle adjoining, during his life, with the wages
of 20 marks yearely, to be perceived of the issues of the counties
of Essex and Hertford, by the hands of the sheriff.' 74.
7. ' Cristofre Colyns, squier, an annuytie of 100^. fro Estre,
an" primo, to the ende and terme of 20 years, of the subsidie of
3 .s. per ton, and 12 d. per lb. &c. in the port of London.' 76.
If these grants relate to Columbus, they shew that he was em
ployed by Richard, as the constable or military commandant of
the castle of Queenborough, in the isle of Shepey, in February
and April 1485; for as the king assumed the crown in June 1483,
the February and April of his second year, would be those of
1485. The commission directed and empowered him to constiiict
04
40 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
works for strengthening that castle, which was one of the points
of the coast which was guarded against Richmond's invasion.
The grants also imply that he had taken a ship, which was
deemed forfeited, and given to him ; that he had paid the soldiers
at the English castle of Guynes, near Calais, on the French coast :
that money was given him for his habiliments in war ; and that
an annuity of looZ. was assigned to him by the king, and as this
was to begin from Easter 1484, we may presume that to have
been the period when his services to Richard commenced. Hence
if these donations relate to Columbus, he was in England, and in
Richard's service, from Easter 1484, till this king fell at Bosworth,
in August 1485.
To ascertain or disprove this curious fact, it becomes important
to inquire whether any fact known of his true biography is incon
sistent with his being in England during this period. That he
had been in England, and on the English coasts and seas, in an
earlier part of his life, appears to be certain; and therefore
he might have sought employment here afterwards, when Richard
invited and received such foreigners as could be useful to him in
repelling Richmond's threatened invasion.
Columbus was born, according to some, in 1442, according to
others, in 1447. He says of himself, in the memorandum,
(printed in Churchill's and also in Kerr's Voyages,) ' In February
1467, I sailed 100 leagues beyond Iceland. To this island, which
is as large as England, the English carry on trade, especially from
the port of Bristol.' This passage shews, that he was in our seas
seventeen years before the time of the grant ; and in another
place, he implies, that at some time he had been in England, for
he says, as quoted by his son, ' I had seen all the countries of the
east and west, and towards the north, especially England.' No
account mentions at what period he was in England, or how long
he stayed in it ; but he mentions it elsewhere, as if it was a place
that he was well acquainted with. Thus speaking of one of his
discovered islands, he says, ' It is larger than England and
Scotland together.'
On the subsequent movements or stations of Columbus, after
1467, we have a little further information. His son remarks, that
he has no perfect knowlege of his father's early years. ' I was so
young at his death, that o'.\'ing to filial respect, I had not boldness
to ask an account from him of the incidents of his youth; besides,
I was not then interested in such inquiries.' His son also men
tions, that Colon or Columbus, in one place of his writings, says,
that he had been at sea twenty-three years, without being on
shore for any length of time ; and in another part, that he went
first to sea at fourteen years of age. But whether he was born
in 1442 or 1447, these passages are not inconsistent with his
being one Or two years on shore in England, in 1484 and 1485.
From the historical memoirs of Columbus, by D.G.B. Sportono,
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 41
of Genoa, lately published, and the original documents in the c H A P,
Appendix, it appears that Columbus was born at Genoa in 1446 u.
o"" 1447> that his father Dominico, was a wool -carder ; that Co- -
lumbus learnt reading, writing and arithmetic, and the occupation
of carding wool there, and at fourteen went to sea. That he
became captain of a ship of war, in the service of Ren6 d'Anjeir,
the ex-king of Naples, and about 1475 commanded a squadron
of Genoese ships and galleys ; that his name stands registered in
a book of losses by sea, in the year ] 476 ; that he went to Lisbon ;
that in February 1477 tnot 1467) he was on the voyage beyond
Iceland ; that he undertook several other voyages, especially to
Guinea, to England, and to the islands possessed by Sp.ain and
Portugal, in the Western Ocean, and married at Lisbon, and that
his proposal to Genoa for his voyage of discovery, was probably
made in 1477, before he went on his Iceland voyage.
That Columbus fought, as well as navigated, is evident from
two facts. In a letter, written in '1495, he mentions that he was
formerly sent to Tunis, by king Reynier, to take the galeasse called
Fernandina ; and at another time, his son states, that he entered,
into the service of a famous captain of his own name, who com
manded a fleet against the infidels, and in his service attacked
four large Venetian galleys; but his vessel taking fire, he leapt into
the sea, and swam to the shore near Lisbon. He might, there
fore, have been taken into Richard's service, to command an
English fort on the sea coast, and to defend the maritime castle
of Guynes, on the French shore, which often had foreign soldiers
as part of its garrison.
The acknowleged poverty of his parents, must have made his
life that of an adventurer, seeking service and employment where
he could get them ; and as Richard, being threatened by Rich
mond's invasion, and not knowing where he would land, was
obliged to keep every accessible point watched and fortified, it
was natural for him to retain and use an active and experienced
foreigner. Such persons were likely to be more trusty to him than
many of his own subjects. He had several foreigners in his ser
vice, and may have had Christopher Colon. Cabot, who dis
covered Newfoundland, came from Venicf! to settle in England,
at that time.
That there was one foreigner here, at that time, of the name
of Colyn, appears from another entry in the same MS. It is this :
' Heme Colyn hath a letter of passage, to passe unto the due of
Burgoyne, and to convey thither an hobyie ; and John le Heure,
with another hobie.' West. 4 March, An" 2° [1485.) p. 210.
The son of Columbus says, that his father assumed or revived
the name of Colon to himself, and caused himself to be so called
in Spain. He may, therefore, have also been so named in Eng
land. His Italian Life calls him Colon. Mariana names him
Christoval Colon, v. g. p. 197.
4-2
BOOK V.
REIGN OF
RICH. III.
HISTORY :OF ENGLAND,
His son states, that he went to Lisbon, and taught his brother
Bartholomew to construct sea charts, globes, and nautical instru
ments ; and sent his brother to England to Henry VII. to make
proposals to this king, of his desired voyage. He presented to
Henry a map of the world, with a Latin inscription, dating his
application, 13 February 1488.
Altho the Latin lines clearly mention 1488, in these words, yet
both in some English and Italian translations, the date is printed
1480; and 1484 is mentioned as the year when his brother returned
to him. It is so in the Italian Life, c. 1 2. p. 63. This is a mistake.
Bartholomew's return must have been after 1488, and seems to be
more rightly placed, by Hackluyt, in 1494.
His son says, that his wife being dead, he resolved to go to
Castile ; but lest the king of Castile might not consent to his
proposal, he dispatched his brother Bartholomew from Lisbon to
England. This would date his going into Spain, some time before
February 1488 ; but, as the year was then reckoned, in England,
to begin from the 25th of March, it is probable, that Bartholomew's
date of the 13th February 1488, was in reality 1489.
The recent work of M. Navarette (Collecion de los Voyages)
furnishes us with some other important particulars. According
to his documents and inferences, Columbus went to settle at
Lisbon about the year 1470, where he married the daughter of
Bartolome, who was attached to the household of the Infant Don
Juan, of Portugal, and who was also a navigator, and went with
a colony to the island of Puerto Santo. The widow of Bartolome,
after his death, gave the use of his papers, charts and instruments
to Columbus, who visited the island of Madeira, and from the
information which these papers afforded him, Columbus offered
his services to the court of Portugal, for undertaking further dis
coveries to the West.
That he was at Lisbon in 1474, we perceive by a letter dated
25 June 1474, from Pablo Toscanelli, a celebrated astronomer at
Florence, to him at Lisbon, in which he states his opinion, that
the direct tract westward from Lisbon to the Spice Island, must
be shorter than that from Lisbon to the coast of Guinea. He
accompanied his assertion by a chart of his own making, with
the track marked upon it. He says, ' Do not be surprised that
I call the place in the west the lands where the spices.grow, which
country is called Levante or East, because those who sail to the
west will find those places in that direction, while they who pro
ceed eastward by land will meet them in the east.'
Columbus did not succeed with the court of Portugal, for he
was obliged to escape precipitately from that country about the
year 1484; the reason of which is not stated. He retired then at
first to Andalusia, where he became acquainted with the duke of
Medina Cell.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES, 43
On 20th March 1488, the king of Portugal, of whom he had CHAP.
asked a safe conduct to return to Lisbon, wrote to him at Seville II.
a kind letter, saying, that he would be pleased to see him, having .
acquiesced with his zeal for his service, and that affairs should reign op
be settled to his satisfaction. We are not able to assert whether kich- hi.
he accepted of this invitation ; but we find him at Seville in the ' '' '
years 1487, 8, and g, where it appears by several documents,
that various sums of money were paid him at different periods
by order of queen Isabella, till the year 1492, apparently for his
support and encouragement.
By the recommendation of the duke of Medina Cell, Columbus
was, in the year i486, taken into the service of the queen Isabella,
and received a salary from her.
Tliese facts leave a vacancy in his biography for the years 1484
and 1485, which comprise the period in which Christopher Colyns
was in Richard's service. M. Navarette thinks he went to the
duke of Medina in 1484. He might have gone in the beginning
of that year; but that he remained with him from that time till
i486, is a supposition not proved by any document, and not
consistent with the mode of his public re-appearance in that year.
Mr. Washington Irving, in his excellent Life of Columbus,
states that, in 1484, he thinks, towards the end of the year, ' Co
lumbus departed secretly from Lisbon, taking with him his son
Diego. The reason he assigned for leaving the kingdom thus
privately, was, that he feared being prevented by the king. Another
reason appears to have arisen from his poverty. His affairs had
run to ruin : he was even in danger of being arrested for debt.
A letter has been lately discovered, which was written by the king
of Portugal to Columbus some years afterwards. This letter
ensures him against any arrest on account of any process, civil or
criminal, which might be pending against him.' .See it in Nava
rette, V. 2. Dec. 3.
Mr. Irving adds, ' an interval now occurs of about a year, during
which the movements of Columbus are involved in uncertainty.
A modern Spanish historian thinks he departed immediately for
Genoa. (Memor. Hist. Novo Mundo. L. 2.)
Thus all that we know for certain of Columbus during the years
1484, 1485 and i486, is, that in some part of 1484 he departed
suddenly and secretly from Lisbon ; but that the place to which
he went is uncertain. Navarette thinks it was to Andalusia ;
Munez, to Genoa. But if our documents relate to him, it was
to England that he went for employment, and there obtained it
in Richard's service.
Nothing is known or disclosed of him by any of his biographers
in the year 1485, until at the end of that year he suddenly ap
peared in great poverty in a little sea-port of Andalusia. This
interesting fact is thus stated by Mr, Irving : —
44 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK ' The first trace we have of him in Spain, is in the testimony
V. furnished a few years after his death, in a law-suit, by Garcia
: Fernandez, a physician, resident in the little sea-port of Palos, in
Andalusia. ' About half a league from that town stood an ancient convent
of Franciscan friars. According to the testimony of the physi
cian, a stranger on foot, accompanied by a young boy, stopped
one day at the gate of the convent, and asked of the porter a
little bread and water for his child. While receiving this humble
refreshment, the prior of the convent happening to pass by, was
Struck with the appearance of the stranger ; and observing from
his air and accent that he was a foreigner, entered into conversa
tion with him. This stranger was Columbus, accompanied by
his young son Diego. Whence he had come from does not clearly
appear : that he was in destitute circumstances is evident from
the mode of his way-faring. He was on his way to the neigh
boring town of Huebra, to seek his brother-in-law, who had
married a sister of his deceased wife.
' The prior was greatly interested by the conversation of Co
lumbus, and struck with the grandeur of his views. He detained
him as a guest, and diffident of his own judgment, sent for a
scientific friend, Garcia Fernandez, to converse with him. He
remained at the convent until the spring of i486, when the court
arrived at the city of Cordova.' 'The prior gave him a letter to
the queen's confessor, and Columbus leaving his child, ' set out
full of spirits for the court of Castile.' Irving Columb. v. 1. p. 96-
100. This is the only authentic account we have of Columbus, from
the time of his secret departure from Lisbon, sometime in 1484,
until his public appearance at Cordova, in the spring of i486, the
precise interval in which Christopher Colyns was employed by
Richard in England ; and from this statement we learn, that in
the winter before the spring of i486, he suddenly appeared in a
little sea-port town in the bay of Biscay, or on the coast of
Spain, like a destitute person, asking for bread and water for his
child. To be in such poverty at a sea-port as to call at a convent
for food, and this sea-port being one of those in Spain, which a
ship from England would be likely to touch at, gives Columbus
the appearance of having recently landed there from some other
country, and would fully suit a passage thither from England in
the end of 14S5, The visible poverty also suits the circum
stances in which Columbus would have fallen after Richard's
death, if he had been the Christopher Colyns above alluded to.
For Richard III. fell at the end of August 1485 ; from that
time the military friends of Richard, and especially his foreign
officers, would receive no favor or pay from Henry VII. Having
by his appointment to tlie command of the castle of the Isle of
Shepey, to defend the Medway against Henry's invasion, it is
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 45
most probable that he would be dismissed, on this king's victory CHAP.
and accession, early in September. From that time his pecuniary II,
resources here would be taken from him, and the act passed in —
the following November (1485,) by which all Richard's grants reign of
were reversed and invalidated (6 Rolls Pari. j). 336-84.) would rich, hi.
annul, without hope, the annuity of 100/. granted by Richard to ^^ " ¦*
Christopher Colyns, because his name is not among those who
were exempted from the deprivation.
Thus in November 1485, he would be totally unprovided in
England of all maintenance, and had probably been so since
Richard's fall in the preceding August. Thus Columbus, in
December 1485, would have been in the necessitous state in
which he appeared about that time at Palos : and Palos is such
a sea-port in Spain as he was likely to have then landed at from
England. Hence the authentic account of his being so circum
stanced at Palos, in the winter before the spring of i486; his
secret retreat from Lisbon in the fear of arrest or detention some
time in 1484 ; and the absence of all other certain account how he
passed the interval, not only have no inconsistency with his em
ployment by Richard III. in 1484 and 1485, but have a singular
coincidence with them.
He has not given any contrary statement in any of his own
writings. He says in one letter to the king and queen of Spain,
' To serve your highnesses, I was not inclined to involve myself
with France, or with England, or with Portugal.' This is true.
The engagement with Richard III. was only to assist in the
defence of England against Henry ; not to sail upon a voyage of
discovery. The true date of his first application to the court
of Spain, we have in his own letter to the nurse of the prince Don
John, written when he arrived in 1500 as a prisoner; for, in
mentioning it, he says that all were incredulous, but that the
queen supported him. He adds, ' Seven years were passed in
treaty, and nine in execution.' p. 224. Now he sailed on his
voyage 3d August 1492, and his agreement for it with Ferdinand
was signed 17 April 1492. Therefore seven years of treaty would
make his first application to have been in 1485; in the last part
of which he was at Palos, interesting the prior to assist his voyage,
after he must have left England on Richard's fall. The prior had
become determined to befriend his scheme ; ' He offered to give
Columbus a favorable introduction at coart, advised him to repair
thither, and to make his proposition to his Spanish sovereigns :
he gave him a letter, strongly recommending him and his enter-
prize,' but kept him at Palos, till the court reached Cordova.
Irving, p. 99. These facts suit the surmise that Columbus may
have served Richard as Christofre Colyns. It also accords with that
person's acting as a military commandant for Richard ; that Co
lumbus says of himself, ' I ought to be judged as a captain, who
for a length of time, up to this very dayy have borne arms, without
4G HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK ever quitting them, and by real warriors such as myself, and not
V, by lawyers.' Memorial of Columbus, p. 239. During the seven
. years that he was soliciting Spain, between 1485 and 1492, he
reign op went to France himself, and sent his brother, Bartholomew, to
RICH. HI. England, who presented to HenryVII. the map dated 13 February
1488. p. xliii.
That WiUiam Constable was the brother of Christopher Colyns
seems at first sight an objection to the alleged identity with Co
lumbus. But it is obvious that this person could only be his bro
ther by marriage, and to have been so, Columbus must have
married Constable's sister, or the sister of Columbus must have
been wedded to Constable. Neither of these possibilities is in
consistent wifh the known history of the former. Columbus had
lost his first wife before 1484, and therefore was at liberty to have
married an English lady, when in England ; or, on the other hand,
in the continual intercourse which was then taking place between
English knights, adventurers and merchants, and the coasts of
Spain, Genoa and the Mediterranean, William Constable might
have made the Genoese lady his wife. Columbus had sisters.
The whole e£Fect of all the above facts is rather favorable than
otherwise, to the possibility that he was the Christofre Colyns,
whom Richard HI. appointed his constable of the castle of
Queenborough. We have therefore thought it our duty to submit
the possibility to the consideration of the reader. It is not
presented as certain history, but merely as a reasonable probability,
which the coincidences that we have collected, induce us not to
omit to state as a fair subject for future investigation ; at the
same time we acknowlege that probabilities are not ascertained
facts ; nor are coincidences alone, historic proof. They are only
collateral cimfirmations of other more direct testimony, and while
this is wanting, must not be mistaken for it.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 47
CHAP. III.
The Reign of Henry VII.
1485—1509.
1 HIS prince had never been in London since that reign of
boyish age in which Henry VI. had mentioned, that 'if^^^
he would 'have the crown they were fighting for.' This ^'^^°"
remark of his maternal uncle may have arisen, from
the good king's perception of the Lancastrian line
having then no nearer heir, after his own ; and from
his belief, or wish, that the York family might not
be permanently successful.^ It indicates how early
the eyes of the Lancastrian party were turned to
Richmond ; and how far men, at that time, looked
forward to the possibilities of the future accessions.
This seems to have been a favorite, altho a dangerous
subject of their political speculations.
His grandfather, Ov^en Tudor, a private Welsh
gentleman, in the service of the widow of Henry V,
' This circumstance is mentioned by Henry's earliest biographer,
Bernard Andreas, p. 136. His work is in MS. in the Cotton, library,
Doinit. XVIII. All the chroniclers allude to it. Andreas intimates, also,
that the duke of Bretagne had heard, from others, that Richmond would
reign, p. 140; which shews, that Henry's remark had fixed the public
eye early on him. Perhaps Henry had meant, in case of his own son's
death, to have appointed the earl his successor; and, from this feeling,
uttered the prognostication alluded to. Henry VII. himself countenanced
and circulated it.
' It is not improbable, that when the duke of York claimed to be the
heir 10 the crown, before the birth of Henry's son, the secret politics
of the Lancastrian court, in their extreme enmity to their rivals, may
have projected the setting up of Richmond, from his maternal relation
to the crown, as the antagonist interest.
1456.
48 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK had married her; and had been imprisoned for that
^- marriage, in Newgate, and at Wallingford castle.'
reign of This French lady survived her self-degrading nup-
HEN.^vii^ tials only nine years ; * but in that time had three
sons, of whom the youngest became a monk ; the
second was Jasper, the indefatigable earl of Pem
broke; and the third, Edmund, whom Henry VL
created earl of Richmond,' and who, marrying Mar
garet, the heiress of the Somerset line, then only ten
years old,* died himself at the age of twenty-five;'
leaving one son, Henry, whom the events, already
recorded, raised to be the founder of a new dynasty *
on the English throne.
Born^in Henry VII. was born at Pembroke castle, in 1456,
a few months before his father died. His infancy
was sickly ; * but he was carefully nursed by his
mother, a, child herself. He was afterwards com
mitted by Edward IV. to the care of the lady of sir
W illiam Herbert, to be educated in a state of friendly
•¦' Rym. Feed. 10. p. 686. He is there called, Owen ap Tedyr, but,
in another document, he is named Meredith ap Tydier, lb, 828,
* She had married Owen in 1428; she died in 1437. Rym. Feed. 10.
p. 662. On 4 January, Fab. 433.
' He was made so in March 1453. Rolls Pari. 5. p. 250-4. In
1436, we find Edmund, and his brother Jasper, under the care of the
abbess of Berkyng, from 27 July 1437 to ^8 February 1439, for which
she was paid 17 /. and afterwards to November 1441, for 52 A 12 s. more.
Rym.Foed, 10. p. 828.
^ Holling. p. 678, who mentions her, at that age, to have become
Richmond's mother. This is hardly credible; yet her funeral sermon
states, that Henry VI. procured her marriage with his maternal brother,
when she was only nine years old. p. 8. The duke of Suffolk wanted her
for his son. Ib.
' He died the 3d of November, in 14 56, and was huried at St. David's,
leaving his son Henry VII. but fifteen weeks old. Inquis. ap. Dugd,
Bar. 2. p. 237. This would place Henry's birth in July 1456; so that
he was not quite fouryears younger than Richard HI.
' ' In tenella setate saepe valetudinarius fuit.' Bern. And. MS. p. 134.
He was born, according to this author, on St. Agnes' day, which was the
3lst of January. This makes him six months older than the inquisition
mentioned in Dugdale.
UEN. VII.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 49
and liberal custody ; and he owed to her the founda- chap.
tion of his manly accomplishments.® The best in- ^
structors were provided for him ; his mind was reign of
active, and his improvement rapid.'" He acquired
that attachment to religion which never left him :
and his behaviour was interesting. Herbert falling
in 1470, at Banbury, Jasper, the prince's uncle,
during the short restoration of Henry VI. obtained
possession of his person, and carrying him to London,
introduced him to the king, who was pleased with his
countenance, and expressed the idea of his possible
elevation." The battle of Tewkesbury compelling
Jasper to fly, he thought it prudent that Henry,
then in his fifteenth year, should leave the country
with him.'^ His mother suggested, that Wales had
many castles in which he could be safe; but his
uncle advised her not to take the chance, as his life
would be aimed at ; and promised to regard him as
his son.'* The observation of Henry VI. had made
him a mark of dangerous attention, and she assented
to his temporary exile. Jasper meant that France
should be his asylum, as Henry's grandmother had
been the sister of the French king's father ; but a
storm driving them on Bretagne, the duke received
them courteously, yet detained them. Here they
remained above twelve years, as actual prisoners,
but kindly treated.'* The efforts of Edward IV. to
" Pol. Virg. 522. ' Well and honorably educated, and in all kind of
civility brought up, by the lady Herbert.' Hall, 287.
'° B. Andreas says, that he was told by Andreas Scot, of Oxford,
Henry's preceptor, that he never heard a boy of that age so capable and
so quick in learning. MS. ib. 135.
" Pol. V. 522. Hall, 287. '- Pol. V. 531.
" Bern. And. MS. 136-40.
'¦* Coraines, v. I. p. 514, who adds, ' The earl of Richmond told me,
that, from the time he was five years old, he had been always a fugitive
or a prisoner. I was at the court of the duke Francis at the time they
were seized, and the duke treated them very handsomely for prisoners,' Ib,
Vol, IV. E
reign of
iirN, vn.
r>o HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK get them within his power, had the effect of making
^- . the duke more vigilant in watching them ; but also
more alive to the policy of keeping them in his
dominions,
»47o. j|. ^j^g extraordinary, that the proud nobility of
England should choose for their sovereign a young
man so unknown to Englishmen, and whose paternal
ancestry was so obscure. But their party feelings
urging them to oppose the throne, and their safety
requiring a leader of some nominal pretensions at
least, they sacrificed their inveterate prejudices of
birth to political expediency ; and, perhaps, they
thought they could govern, more easily, a king who
would owe his crown, not to legal right, but to their
selection and support. Hence, they combined in his
favor against Richard ; and allowed Stanley to put
the crown on his head, in the field of Bosworth.
1485, Resting two days at Leicester, after this victory,
to settle his immediate measures, Henry sent a pro
clamation, as king, into York, to inform its citizens
of Richard's death ; '° and that no one might set up
the young earl Warwick, the son of the late duke of
Clarence, and the next heir to the throne, if Edward's
daughters, who had been incapacitated, were passed
by, their leader and his competitor for the throne, he
ordered sir Robert Willoughby to take him from
Sheriff's Hutton castle in Yorkshire, and to lodge
him, then an unbefriended lad of fifteen, in the
ominous Tower of London.'® Henry advanced td
the metropolis by easy journeys, amid much popular
applause. The feelings of the country were suffi
ciently divided, to ensure to every successful leader
" See it in Drake's Ebor. p. 122.
" Pol. Virg. 565, Graft. 853.
August,
HEN, VI r.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES, 51
a satisfying quantity of public acclamations. As he chap.
approached London, he was met by the city autho- ^^
rities, with the usual gratulations, in their usual reign of
costume. They had been liberal of these to all the
chiefs who had approached them from the field of
victory. The peers greeted him at Shoreditch. He
entered in a close chariot," which was not liked ;
but he may have thought it necessary for his safety.
He went to St. Paul's church, offered his three
standards,'* and joined in the Te Deum ; and took
up his first residence, like Edward V. in the Bishop's
palace. While he rested there, plays, pastimes and
pleasures, were exhibited in every part of the city ;
and on the 30th of October, he proceeded in great
state to Westminster, and vi'as crowned."
It was amid many circumstances connected with
his future disquietude that Henry came to his throne.
A stranger to most of those who had crowned him,
except from the short acquaintance of the last few
hurried days, he could not but perceive that they
had exalted him by ungratefully abandoning a libe-'
ral master, whom they had dethroned and killed.
Like Richard, he had to reign among conflicting
interests, in a stormy age of new opinions, and over
an aristocracy both humorsome and dictatorial ; jea
lous of privileges, which the welfare of the increasing
population required to be abated ; easily affronted ;
and whose resentment, the depositions and fate of
" Bacon, B. Andreas says, ' latenter.' MS.
" Graft. 854. One had the image of St. George. In the second was
a fiery dragon, beaten upon white and green sarsenet. The third had a
dun cow, painted on yellow tarterne. Ib.
'» Graft. 854, 5. B. Andreas gives Elizabeth a pretty speech on
Henry's successes, which Speed has translated in his history, p. 741 ; but
which it is not likely the royal biographer could have heard, tho he was
present at Heni-y's entrance into the metropolis.
E 2
52 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK four sovereigns had shewn to be most deadly. What
^- security could he obtain for their continuing fidelity;
reign of and how must he shape his conduct to escape those
!^I!!:, rebellions and evils which had pursued the throne of
'''^^' England from the accession of Richard II. to the
downfal of his late namesake ?
The errors of the last king pointed out many things
that were to be avoided. But as all the contending
interests which had been agitating the country since
the reign of Henry V. continued still subsisting and
unappeased, it was a natural impossibility that his
reign could be long tranquil, or universally or per
manently popular. Whichever way he moved, he,
like the reprobated Richard, must dissatisfy many.
New enemies would start up, from impatient selfish
ness, every year of his reign ; and no wisdom or
virtue could save him either from abuse or hostility.
Happily, however, for our comfort, hope is more
active than foresight ; and the tempests that are
to afflict us, are rarely believed possible till their
ravages are felt. The king trod warily, and had a na
turalized equanimity of temper, and a magnanimity
of mind, which, being unconquerable by adversity,
kept him from either exciting or deserving it.
His two first objects were, to obtain a parliamen
tary sanction for his crown, and to reward his friends.
The parliament met in September. The bishop who
had been preceptor to Edward V. opened it with
a speech, which, quoting both Ovid and the Bible,
assured the nation that a golden age was coming to
it under their new Joshua, who would strive with all
his might to extirpate or amend the wicked ; and
ended with exhorting the land to hail him as the Jews
did their Solomon, with " God save the king ! " " May
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 53
the king live for ever!"^" The parliament first chap.
granted a subsidy, and then enacted the inheritance ^""
of the crown to be " in the most royal person of king reign of
Harry VII. and the heirs of his body, and on none ?'^'^\ '>
other." '" The attainders of his friends were reversed,''^
and similar measures were retorted on the chief sup
porters of Richard.^ A general amnesty was then
wisely proclaimed to all others who should submit
themselves, and swear fealty within forty days. A
great number came from their sanctuaries, and ac
cepted the offered grace.^^ He made his uncle Pem
broke, duke of Bedford; and Stanley, earl Derby;
and Chandos, a gentleman of Bretagne, earl of Bath.
He raised sir Giles Daubeny and Willoughby to the
baronial peerage ; and restored Buckingham's eldest
son to his father's dukedom and possessions. He
named a numerous privy council from his most valued
or important adherents; but, tho kind to them all,
he selected those to be his confidential ministers
and friends, who had been his earliest and most
continuous assistants and advisers,''^ They who had
=" Pari. Rolls, 6. p, 267.
¦" Ib. 268-70. 'This statute vested a new pariiamentary right in his
posterity, and took it away from Edward's line; for, if Elizabeth had
died childless, this act fixed it in Henry's issue by any other wife.
'^ Ib,373. As the king himself had been attainted, it was consulted,
by the judges, what was to be done in this respect. They unanimously
agreed, ' That the crown takes away all defects and stops in blood ; and
that, from the time the king assumed the crown, the fountain was cleared,
and all attainders and corruptions of blood discharged.' But the records
of the attainders against him were ordered, by parliament, to be de
stroyed. Bacon's Hist. 581.
""' Pari. Rolls, p. 275-8. The attainders of Richard's supporters
were much censured, as these gentlemen were obliged to obey his mili
tary summons, as king, on pain of forfeiting their own lands or lives.
Croyl. 581. , , , . J
" Pol. V. 566. Graft. 855. Stillington, the bishop who had assisted
to make Edward V. illegitimate, was at first imprisoned at York, ' sore
erased, by reason of his trouble.' Drake's Ebor, 123. But he obtiuned
" Pol. Virg. 567. Bray, to whose activity and prudence Henry owed
E3
reign op
IIEN. Vll.
54 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK served Richard, and at last betrayed him, were rather
^- rewarded than trusted by Henry ; and it was pro
bably from this reason, that lord Stanley, while al
lowed to remain constable of England, was not placed
1485. in his household, nor much befriended, tho, for
the sake of his mother, the king occasionally visited
him. The chamberlainship was presented to sir
William, who had really given Henry the victory
and the crown. Anxious to adopt such measures as
should improve the kingdom, in laws, institutions and
manners, he endeavored to raise hopes in all, that
a better order of things would be established, where-
ever the national welfare required the melioration.''*
He introduced a new means of personal safety, by
appointing, like the king of France, a body guard of
fifty archers;*^ and tho he delayed his covenanted
marriage with Elizabeth, perhaps deliberating on the
policy of preferring the heiress of Bretagne, till the
nation became uneasy, he yielded at length to the
general desire of extinguishing all future civil wars
of rival dynasty, by uniting her line with his own, in
their marriage on the 18th of January i486. Bon
fires, dancing, songs and banquets, pervaded the
so much, was made Sir Reginald, and appointed one of his privy council.
Throughout his reign, Morton, Fox, Bray, and Daubeny, seem to have
been his most trusted advisers.
=« Pol. Virg. 567. Hall, 425. Graft. 857. It was at the end of au
tumn in this year, that the new kind of sickness came on in England,
called The Sweating Sickness. It began with a burning perspiration,
with such a violent heat in the head and stomach, that the sufferers
could bear no clothes. It was very mortal ; but they who survived and
transpired for twenty-four hours usually escaped. In eight days, two
lord mayors and six aldermen became victims to it. Graft. 857, 8.
Pol,V. 567, 8,
" Their name, ' yeomen of the guard,' was not new. The king was
too wise not to soften an obnoxious measure, by connecting it with exist
ing titles. The novelty was, in the personal appropriation of them to the
royal security, and in their fixed locality about his apartments. Their
state effect has occasioned them to be continued in the dresses of their
first institution.
HEN. Vll.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. .55
metropolis. It seemed the consummation of the na- chap.
tion's happiness.'^ She was beautiful and gentle. ^^^"
But whether from her previous conduct, or from more reign of
personal causes than we can now discover, no cordial
affection subsisted at first between her and Henry.''"
The king sent for his two clerical friends, Morton
and Fox, in whom he placed the highest confidence.'"
Morton was appointed archbishop of Canterbury and
chancellor; and Fox, a bishop and his privy seal.
It was the sanguine belief of the nation, that the
union with Elizabeth closed the fountain of all future
factions. It would have done so if the conflict had
been merely a personal contest; but the contending
leaders being the representatives of the continuing
hostile interests, the materials of commotion continued
ready to explode, whenever any new man of influence
chose to become turbulent. Of these hostile interests,
many became embodied in attachment to the York
family; because Henry, having come forward on
a Lancastrian title, all that opposed government In
clined to favor the antagonist line.
The battle of Bosworth had destroyed the most
distinguished adherents of Richard III. but left the
animosity of his friends to the new sovereign, and
his treacherous supporters, unabated. Yet the pre
ceding tempests had swept away the men of most
name and importance ; and no person of active con
sequence existed at the moment of the new accession,
disposed to resist the change, excepting lord Level,
M Bern, And. MS. Dom. ,.,,:, ,o tj ii. „ fi•^
»« Bacon o. fs82. Yet he settled on her a liberal dower (P. Rolls, i . o,;
and seems to have become more attached to her after sh'^^J^^^.^^/J'^f
from her mother, and had exhibited her own P'<^ty/"'i ¦;".^'!;"dT,,. Bou'r-
» Morton was raised to the primacy on ^e death of caid.al Boor
chier, (Pol. V. 576.) who was descended from hdward HI. thio his son
Thomas, duke of Gloucester. Croyl. 581.
E 4
56 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK It has been seen that Catesby, by his dying will,
^- recommended that this friend of Richard should be
reign OF taken into Henry's favor. Instead of using this
HEN, vii.^ policy, the king excepted him out of the general
amnesty.
i486. In the spring, Henry resolved, like Richard, to
make a tour of popularity and policy to the northern
counties." As they cherished so warmly the me
mory of Richard, this visit had the appearance of
danger; and Lovel thought it would enable him to
avenge his fallen master. He left his sanctuary, and
attempted a sudden insurrection against Henry.*^
The king, on horseback, nobly accompanied, pro
ceeded by Waltham to Cambridge, where the Univer
sity received him with honor ; and passed on to
Lincoln, where he kept his Easter, attending fre
quently at the cathedral during the solemnity. Turn
ing off to Nottingham, he went, the next week, into
Yorkshire, where the Stanleys took their leave of
him ; and he moved thro Doncaster to Pomfret."
It was the plan of Lovel to destroy him by surprise.
The king had heard that he was exciting disturbance,
and had disregarded the rumor ; but as the stately
train was advancing towards York, the rebels sud
denly appeared about Rippon and Middleham;'* and
if Henry had not been, at this crisis, joined at Barnes-
dale, by the earl of Northumberland, " with a right
great and noble company," Lovel might have effected
his purpose. The king was almost intercepted, when
the earl appeared.^" He could only send, at the
" There is a full account of Henry's progresses in the Hari. MS.
N" 7, 408. Hearne has printed the present one, from the pen of a spec
tator, in his Leland's Collectanea, v. 4. p. 185.
" Pol. Vir. 568. ^ Hearne, p. 186,
'' lb. 187. " So CroyUmd states, p. 582,
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 67
moment, against the insurgents, 3000 men, several CHAP.
armed only with leather instead of mail, under the ^
duke of Bedford. But this nobleman, on consulting reign of
with his knightly companions, deeming it advisable """"• J"- .
to allure them to submission, without a conflict that
must be doubtful, sent to them an offer of grace and
pardon to all who would lay down their arms. As
their plan of surprise had failed, and had not been
seconded, and they were too few to wage a protracted
war with the king, they accepted the judicious pro
posal ; and Lovel withdrew, in the night, into Lan
cashire,'* and afterwards sailed to Flanders, to Mar
garet, the dowager duchess of Burgundy,''^ whose
affection for her brother, Edward IV. led her to sup
port all who chose to become inimical to Henry. The
two Staffbrds, who had been co-operating with Lovel,
were taken, and the elder one executed.'*
The king approaching York, was received, three
miles from its gates, by the corporation and citizens,
on horseback ; and near the walls, by processions of
friars ; and within the city, by the general assemblage
from all the parish churches ; the whole population
vociferously acclaiming him.'" Pageants of crowned
kings and minstrels were ready with their long
speeches ; and Solomon, David, and the Virgin, were
also conjured up to welcome him. His devout atten
dances attheminster were followed by state banquets,
which united the hearts of the subjects to their king ;
and he then crossed the country ; and having, at
=« Pol. Virg. 569, =7 Bacon, 582.
™ Pol. Virg. Grafton, 860. This was the Humphrey who had so
actively assisted to surround Buckingham.
^ The popular cry of ' the mervellous great nomber of men, women,
and children, on foote, was, ' King Henry ! king Henry ! Our Lord pre
serve us that sweet and well-savored face.' Hearne, 187.
58 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK Whitsun evening, reached Worcester, he visited Glou-
V- cester and Hereford, with the same congratulations
reign OP from the municipal authorities, friars, clergy, and
•^J^ people ; and from their oratorical pageants,*" which so
i486, much delighted the emerging and simple literary taste
of our ancestors. He paused awhile at Bristol, where
the William Canyng*' of our too early-flowering, and
too impatient Chatterton, had then recently been
mayor ; and where some Rowley taught king Brem-
mius at the town gate, and Prudence at the high
cross, and Justice, with her maiden children, at St.
John's, to address the king with humble good sense,
tho not with the poetry that breathes in Ella and Sir
Charles.*^ The inventive genius of the city was dis
played in pageants that were praised ; *' and the king,
having conversed with the citizens to their hearts
delight,** returned to Sheen, visited by the nobles as
he passed ; and receiving, from the great towns and
'" All these our author describes with careful remembrance and visible
pleasure. 188-201.
¦" This merchant is frequently mentioned in W. Wyrcestre's Itiner.
¦" See the speeches to Henry, in Hearne, 199-201, I have no doubt
that Chatterton found much that was ancient ; but like Macpherson with
Ossian, he seems to have made his originals but themes for his own genius
to compose upon, and has given us himself instead of his ancestors. It is
a misfortune to the world, that he found any thing to excite his talents
so prematurely, and to suggest their exertion in the path he chose,
*' After mentioning that a baker's wife, in her joy, cast out of a win
dow a great quantity of wheat, exclaiming, ' Welcome, and good luck ! '
the author adds, from his own taste, ' There was a pageant called The
Shipvvright's pageant, with praty conceits pleying in the same; and a litle
farther, an olifaunte, with a castle on his back, curiously wrought; and
the resurrection in the highest tower of it, with certain imagery smiting
bells. All went by weights, merveolously zoele done.' p. 202.
" The king asked theni; ' the cause of their poverty ; and they showed
his grace, for the great loss of ships and goods within five years. The
king comforted them, that they should set on and make new ships, and
exercise their merchandize as they were wont to do ; and he should so
help them, by divers means, as he showed them,' The effect of his kind
manners, the author thus expresses : ' The mayor of the town told me,
.they heard not, this hundred years, of no king so good a comfort ; where
fore they thanked Almighty God, that had sent them so good and gracious
a sovereign lord.' Hearne, p. 202.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 59
abbeys, complimentary presents of gold, silver, wine, CHap.
beads, and mittens. The lord mayor of London, with ^^i-
all the city companies, in their barges, rowed up to reign op
Putney, to accompany him in state down the Thames "'^''•J"-.
to Westminster. At all the cities, the bishops read
the pope's bull, declaring the king and queen's title
to the crown,*^ the foundation for the anathemas of
the church, that were subsequently issued against
thosewho opposed it.
Henry soon afterwards visited Winchester, where
his son Arthur was born ; ** whose christening was
contemplated and provided for by the countess of
Richmond, the king's mother, with a ceremonial soli-
citude,*'^ and was afterwards performed with a deli
berate pomp,*® which shew how fondly the age was
attached to the dramatic parade, as well as the happy
directress.*"
'* Hearne, 200-3.
*^ On St, Eustachius' day. Ib. 204. In September i486. Speed, 742.
Our venerable chronicler was absurd enough tb say, on the. prince being
christened Arthur, ' of which name outward nations and foreign princes
trembled and quaked, so much was that name to all terrible arid fearful.'
Graft, p. 860. So Hall, 428. They forgot that the Arthur of romance
was not the Arthur of history.'
*" His minute preparatory ordinances, from the Hari. MS. N° 6079,
are printed by Hearne, p. 179.
¦" Hearne has also printed the full detail of this stately baptism, and
the consequent festivities, 204-8.
¦" This lady survived her son king Hetiry. Her life iS' a favorable pic
ture of the high female nobility of those times. Her funeral sermon
states, that her father was John Duke of Somerset; her mother, Mar
garet, That she was right studious in books, which she had in great
number, both in English and in French ; and she translated several
tracts of devotion from French into English'; among these, the Mirror of
Gold, atid the last book of Thomas-a-Reflapis, She lamented that she
had not applied to Latin, tho she knew enough of it to understand well
her prayer-book. By lineage and affinity, she had thirty kings and queens
within four degrees of marriage to her, besides earls, mafquisses, dukes
and princes. She was temperate in food, ' eschewing banquets, rere-
suppers and joucrys betwixt meles.' She rose about five o'clock, at
tended her public and private prayers, dined at ten. She had written
regulations for her household, which she had read to them four times
a-year. She frequently exhorted them to do well. She was very kind in
60 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK As Henry had been as much seated by violence on
^- his throne as Richard HI, tho by battle, instead of
reign of the scaffold, he was not, for some time, popular be-
HEN^vH^ yond his own immediate party, that had enthroned
I486, ijijn_ The general body of the nation was still greatly
affected to the house and memory of York. Richard
was remembered with regret, especially in the
northern counties.^" Henry was hated for his suc
cess ; and charged with having put to death, in the
Tower, the young earl he had imprisoned.^' The king's
general demeanor, from the difficulties surrounding
him, was not adapted to lessen the adverse humor.
He was mysterious and impenetrable. More says,
that one thing was so often pretended, and another
meant, that nothing was so plain and openly proved,
but from the custom of close dealing, men inwardly
suspected it;''* and Bacon remarks, that he had a
fashion rather to create doubts than assurance.^'
Having prospered so much by the treachery of others
to Richard, and being afterwards compelled to keep
the traitors as his friends ; while, from his strange-
entertaining strangers. She daily fed, lodged, and visited in her house,
twelve poor persons ; ministered to them in their sickness, and saw them
on their death-beds that she might learn to die. See her funeral sermon,
printed by Wynkyn de Worde, at the Sun in Fleet-street. After her first
husband (Richmond's) death, she married the eldest son of the duke of
Buckingham, and uncle of the one who favored Richard. Surviving him,
she chose for her third and last husband, lord Stanley, at the end of the
reign of Edward IV, then a widower. She had no children by her two
last nuptials. But this lady demands our grateful remembrance for the
benefits she has occasioned to learning and religion. She founded a per
petual lecture of divinity at Oxford, and another at Cambridge, at which
some of our ablest divines have emerged to deserved reputation-; also, a
perpetual public preacher at Cambridge, which has been altered into
the delivery of one sermon to the clergy every Easter. She also founded
Christ's college, and likewise St. John's, at Cambridge. She was ad
mitted into the fraternity of several religious houses, which entitled her
to their prayers, and to a share in what they deemed their meritorious
penances and good works. See Preface to her sermon, ed. 1708.
'" Bacon, 595. *¦ Pol. V. 569, 570, Speed, 74a,
" More, 245, 6, «^ Hist. 583,
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. CI
ness to the nation, and from its resentment at his chap.
victory, he had such a necessity for their support, ^^
and yet from their previous conduct, such an uncer
tainty as to their stability, Henry was like a man
sleeping near a precipice, or living amid surrounding
ambushes. He knew not where he was really safe,
nor in whom he could fully confide, nor for what
duration. Hence, caution and alarm produced that
doubting, and wary secrecy, which, causing suspi
cion and uneasiness in others, prevented them from
being cordial, and him from being popular or happy.
All crowns obtained by violence and treachery must
be pursued by these disquietudes. But altho the
nation was full of discontent, and of unemployed
soldiers, and turbulent men without livelihood, who
sought subsistence or advancement in disturbance,^*
the disaffected had no great leader to organize, em
body, and direct them. The Stanleys, if disposed to
revolt, could never be trusted again. Buckingham
was too young ; and the son of Clarence was se
cluded in prison. From this want of actual chiefs^
and yet, from the necessity of having one of name
as a nucleus for successful insurrection, it became a
remarkable feature in this reign, that impostors
should be set up to supply the deficiency, and to be
come the desired leaders. They were the creatures
of the disaffection, and of the exigencies of the day.
They failed, from their being deceptions ; but their
temporary impressions shew how transitory Henry's
sceptre might have been, if a Warwick, or Hastings,
or Buckingham, had been alive to have excited and
combined the nobility and gentry into a confidential
co-operation against it. " Pol. V. 569.
REIGN OF
HEN. Vll,
G2 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK The first that was started against Henry, was a boy
V- of ten years old."*' At his emerging, some contra
dictions confused the character which the adventurer
was reported to have assumed. According to the
'487- earliest rumor, the young duke of York had arrived
in Ireland.'" The king sent messengers into different
parts to ascertain every circumstance as, to his origin,
education, previous residence, and present friends ;"
and had the Pope's bull in his favor again read in
the churches, and all his enemies excommunicated.'*
It was at last declared, that the new competitor of
the king was Warwick, the son of the duke of Cla
rence, the attainted brother of Edward IV. ; and that
he had escaped from the Tower.
It does not seem that this lad was first lanched into
his adventure by the duchess of Burgundy, tho she
afterwards adopted him. It was a priest at Oxford,
who began the delusion ;'" and others who had flou
rished under Edward IV. combined to prompt his
sprightly nature, and to give him that information
which enabled him to mislead others so ingeniously,
that many would have died in his defence.*" The
earl of Lincoln, whom Richard III. had declared heir
to his crown, was so infatuated by his own resent
ments as to accredit him.
»= Rolls Pari. 6, p. 397. «« Bern. And. MS. p. 185. " Ib.
'" Hearne, Lei, p, 209. The Pope's bull, dated 6 kal, April i486,
states, that he approves and confirms Henry's succession, and requires
the obedience of all his subjects, and forbids any from raising tumults ;
and if Elizabeth should die childless, settles the succession in his issue
by any other wife, la Rym. Foed. 297. To have recourse to such an
authority, implies great doubts in Henry's mind as to his permanency.
^ Bern. And, 186, This author calls him tbe son of a baker or cobbler;
the Parliament Roll says, of a joiner, 6, p. 397. William Syraonds, the
contriving priest, was but twenty-eight years of age; and on being ex
amined before the convocation, after his capture, confessed the impos
ture. See the document in Wilkin's Coilc, 3. p. 618,
°° Bern. And, 186, Polydore says, the priest was suborned by tlie
chiefs of his faction, p. 571,
HEN. VII.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 63
As his partisans had no force in England, sufficient C H A P.
to make a safe point for the assembling of those who ^
were to support him, the pretended prince was first reign of
exhibited in Ireland, in Lent,*" with all the success "'" ""
that could be expected from warm hearts and excited
imaginations. The Irish nobility believed all his
tales. Even the lord chancellor received him into
his castle. Thus patronized, the duchess Margaret
added her impressive sanction, and he prepared to
land in Endand.*"*
Alarmed at the popular favor that began to be
friend this unexpected competitor, Henry drew the
real earl of Warwick out of the Tower, paraded him
thro the streets of London ; and satisfied the great
body of the nobility and gentry, that the other was an
impostor. To allay, as far as possible, all resentful
feelings against himself, he had a general amnesty
•" Hearne, 209, Graft, 862-5, Pol- V. 570. He was crowned with
a diadem, taken from a statue of the Virgin. The viceroy, chancellor
and treasurer, sanctioned the coronation; and the bishop of Meath
preached at it. Ware Hib.
*' This lady, who seconded every plot to dethrone the man that had
driven her own family from the sovereignty of England, was, in
Henry VII's time by a classical allusion, occasioned by her pertinacious
enmity to him, called his persecuting Juno. B. Andreas, MS. Dom, A. 18,
She had her brother Edward's taste for martial romances. Caxton says,
he translated his Destruction of Troy, out of French into English, at
her commandment and request, and called her his lady and mistress. If
printing circulates books, let us recollect, that it was the demand for
them which chiefly created printing. It was the demand, exceeding what
copyists could supply, that led the mind to the invention of the typo
graphic art, far more than any accident. Caxton shews this, in his own
confession as to this work : ' Forasmuch as I am weary of tedious writing,
and worn in years, being not able to write out several books for all gen
tlemen, and such others as are desirous of the same, I have caused this
book to be printed ; that, being published the more plenteously, men's
turns may be more easily served.' Dest. Troy, p. 120, 3d book. He sayS
of the two first books, that, by her commandment, he began the transla
tion at Bruges, continued it in Ghent, and finislied' it in Cologne, in
1471J and that he was at Cologne, when he began the third book for her
contemplation. 2d book, p. 134. Here we see the places that connected
him with the art of printing.
64 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK of all offences proclaimed, without any exception.
Z_ This had a salutary effect ; but did not suit the inte-
REiGN OF rests of the York party, nor reconcile its general
iiEN^vir^ friends. The earl of Lincoln, his queen's nephew,
"^^"' and the next male heir of York, after Warwick, de
termined to take advantage of the insurrection of the
Irish ; and left England to join Margaret in Flanders,
where he met lord Lovel. It was settled, that they
should foment the rebellion in Ireland, land in
England, release the real earl of Warwick, and make
him their Yorkist king."' The impostor was only to
be used as a convenient instrument for exciting the
opposing spirit of the English nation into an effective
co-operation. Henry, endangered and angered by this serious
plot, dispossessed his queen's mother, the widow of
Edward IV. of all her possessions. Her residence
had been the seed-bed of the conspiracies in his own
favor, and would naturally be the centre of all that
would attack him. To prevent this again, he confined
her to a residence in Bermondsey abbey .*^ Then,
uneasy at Lincoln's flight, and fearful that others
would follow him, and make Flanders and Brussels
to be a scene of conspiracy against him, as Bretagne
and Paris had been for him, against Richard, the
king went to Essex and Suffolk, but could not gain
any certainty where his enemies would land."' He
caused the eastern ports to be closed, and the coast
<» Graft. 864, 5.
«* ' Where ' says Grafton, ' she lived a miserable and wretched life.'
p. 864. - So Hall, 431. There is an account of her funeral, and of her
many daughters' last attentions to her, in a MS. in the library of the
Royal Society. This lady, in her prosperity, had the merit of complering
the foundation of Queen's College, Cambridge, (Pol, V, 571 .) which queen
Margaret had begun,
"' Hearne, aog.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 05
to be guarded ; sent the former queen's son Dorset to CHAP,
theTower;^ and prepared to encounter the invasion ^^'^•
that he was certain would take place. These measures reiTT'of
of energy were of the same character of violence ^''•/"•.
which Richard had used against Rivers, and others.
But Henry avoided his most revolting error, by ab
staining from their blood.
Lincoln and Lovel sailed to Ireland, with 2000 1487,
able German soldiers, under a commander of high ^'''^¦
birth, and great talent and experience, Martin Swart;
and landed at Dublin on the 24th of May, where the
boy was again proclaimed king. This select force,
accompanied by a multitude of savage Irishmen,
armed only with " skaynes and mantels," under lord
Gerardine, arrived on the 4th of June at Furnes, near
Lancaster;*^ projecting to pass into Yorkshire, and
there concenter all the friends of the York dynasty.
The king assembled at Kennilworth castle his
army, which lord Oxford petitioned to command ;
and, issuing a judicious proclamation,"* marched thro
Coventry and Loughborough,"" to Nottingham, where
lord Strange brought him a powerful body. Swart 16th June.
moved toward Newark. The king, after hearing ftoki^"'^
divine service, intercepted them at Stoke, a mile
beyond Newark.'^" Lincoln, by Swart's advice, drew
up his men in an advantageous station on the brow
of a hill. Henry made three divisions, but filled the
«6 Graft. 866. Pol. V, 572.
" Rolls Pari. 6 p. 397. Pol. V, 573. Graft,
°° It forbad any to rob churches or individuals, or to molest any one ;
or to take provisions without paying for them, on pain of death ; or to
lodge themselves but as the king's officers directed ; or to make any quar
rel; or to impede the bringing of supplies to the army. Hearne,2lo,2li,
^ All vagabonds and common women were driven from the army, and
those who remained were put into the stocks and prisons of Lough
borough. Ib. 212.
"• Hearne, 213-215.
Vol. IV. F
66 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK foremost with his best troops, and placed the others
'^- as their supporting wings. After an address to his
RtiGN OF army, the battle began. It lasted three hours, and
HEN, VII. ^ was at one time doubtful.'^' The skill and valor of
1487.. Svvart deserved a better cause. He fell with Lincoln,
Lovel, and Gerardine ; and their deaths, with 4000
others,"* ended the only conflict that seriously en
dangered Henry after his accession. The impostor,
Capture of and the priest who had taught and moved him, were
Sirauel! taken. The latter was committed to " perpetual
prison and miserable captivity." The former was too
insignificant a puppet to be any longer dangerous ;
and, as the wisest depreciation of his claims and of
his followers, he was made the king's falconer, and
afterwards sent to turn the spits in his kitchen.'^'
Happily for Henry, this dangerous invasion was
made too precipitately by Lincoln and Lovel. Much
national feeling was with their enterprise ; but the
evils of attainder and confiscation were too great to
be risked, without a greater probability of success
than they presented. If they had won this their first
battle, they might have been numerously joined, but
their defeat extinguished all hopes of any present
change of dynasty. Henry had again an interval of
tranquillity; he made a truce of seven years with
Scotland; received ambassadors from the French
king, and endeavored to mediate between him and
Bretagne. He released the marquis Dorset from the
Tower, and received him into his friendship ; and
perceiving how deeply the nation was interested in
" Bernard Andreas says, that, at one time, Henry's friends were
thought to be defeated. ' Dum preliarentur, nostii qui putabantur supe-
rati, illos denique subjecerunt.' MSS. Dom. p. 189.
" Hearne, 214. Bern. And. Pol. V. 574. Hall, 434.
" Pol. V. 574. Graft. 867. Bern, And, MS. 189.
DURING THE MIDDLE .AGES, 67
the house of York, he gratified the public feeling by chap.
a coronation of his queen." in.
The imposition of a tax which the parliament rei^f
enacted to defray the expense of the king's aid to f^^-J"-,
Bretagne, excited the northern counties into a revolt.
The king directed the earl of Northumberland to en
force the payment of the assessment; and the people,
who had borne this lord a continual grudge for his
treachery to Richard in the battle of Bosworth, vin
dictively attacked and killed him ;" and then assem
bled in rebellion under sir John Egremont. Henry
intrusted the earl of Surrey with an army to suppress
it ; and as it was not otherwise supported, he discom
fited them with ease. Their popular leader was be
headed ; and Egremont fled to the court of Margaret
in Flanders.'^"
The next great ebullition of discontent appeared in Perkin
the countenance given to the youth, who pretended ^ete'^n-'^'' *
to be the young duke of York, brother of Edward V. sions.
It was hoped, or believed by many, that this prince
had not been put to death by Richard, but had
escaped; and a young man of his age, who had
" Graft. 871, 2. Hall, 438. The admirers of grand ceremonials may
see a detailed account of her splendid coronation, 4 Lei. Coll. 216-33.
She is thus described, in her procession, the day before : ' She had a
kirtle of white cloth of gold of Damascus, and a mantle of the same suit,
furred with ermine, fastened before her breast with a great lace, curiously
Wrought of gold and silk, and rich knobs of gold, tasselled at the end.
Her fair yellow hair hung down, plain, behind her back, with a calle of
pipes over it. She had a circlet of gold, richly garnished with precious
stones, on her head,' p. 219. At her coronation, she wore a kirtle and
mantle of purple velvet, furred with ermine, with a lace for the mantle.
p. 222. Her sister Cecil bore her train.
" Graft. 877. Hall, 443. Bern, And. MSS. 183. Pol. Vjrg. 579-
Sir John Savage, who had also deserted Richard, just before the battle,
did not long survive the earl. Riding out of his pavilion at Boulogne, he
was suddenly trapped and taken ; and, disdaining ' to be taken of such
vileyne,' he endeavored to defend himself, and was killed. Graft, p. 895.
« Graft. 878. Pol. V. 580,
Gil HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK travelled much abroad, golng'jrst into Portugal;
V- suddenly appeared in Ireland; asserting that he was
REIGN OF the youthful son of the still-lamented Edward IV.
^^ The Irish credulously welcomed him. The French
''*^7- king^ then at variance with Henry, sent for him; as
signed him a guard, and treated him as a prince. The
English exiles that were abroad, hastened to him at
Paris ; and expeditions, that alarmed Henry into a
hasty pacification with the French king, were publicly
projected ; but this treaty separating Charles from his
interests, the pretending duke of York retired to the
duchess Margaret. She received him with full recog
nition ; gave him also a guard of honor, and called
him The White Rose, prince of England.'^'^
This countenance, and the plausibility of his con
versation, and the suitableness of his appearance to
his pretensions,'^ made such an impression in his
favor, that it was received in England as an un
doubted truth, that he was the real prince ; and
therefore, anterior in right to the crown, to his sister
Elizabeth. Not only the common people, but divers
noble and worshipful men, believed and affirmed it
to be true.'" Seditions began now to spring up on
" Graft. 896-8. Hall, 462, 3. She pretended to be delighted to hear
him, again and again, repeat the well-arranged story of his escape from
the intended murderers ; his wanderings in foreign lands, and his happy
arrival in her dominions. Pol. V. 589.
'* The account of Bernard Andrea is, that the king's French secretary,
influenced by the duchess of Burgundy, became unfaithful to him ; and,
joining her faction, assisted her to set up this new adventurer, a native of
Tournay, to whom Edward IV. had been godfather ; and who had been
educated in the kingdom, and was, therefore, well qualified to pass for
his younger son. Hence, he was able to narrate, from his own observa
tion and memory, the habit and actions of Edward IV. and of the king's
friends and domestics, whom he had known in his childhood ; and many
true circumstances of times and places, besides what he also learnt from
the information of others. MS. Doniit. p. 210. So that no impostor
could have been more judiciously selected.
'" The statement which this person gave of his pretended escape from
the Tower, and subsequent flight to the king of Scotland, was, ' In my
HEN. VII.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 69
every side. Many assembled in companies, and passed chap.
over to him in Flanders. Some, from real conviction, ^^^-
excited others to befriend him : Many, from dissa- reign of
tisfaction to Henry, by whom, they thought, they had
not been sufficiently rewarded ; and not a few, from
a desire to benefit by change and commotion.*" Two
persons only were now surviving of the murderers of
the young princes, sir James Tyrrel and John Dighton.
The king committed them to the Tower ; subjected
them to examination, and circulated their confessions
among the public."
tender age, I was secretly conveyed over sea ; where, after a time, the
party that bad me in charge, suddenly forsook me. I was forced thereby
to wander abroad, and to seek mean conditions for the sustaining of my
life.' Bacon's Hist. p. 615. Speed, p. 757.
«° Pol. V. 590. Graft. 899. Sir Robert Clifford and sir William Burley
went over, to apprize the duchess of the feelings and intentions of the
English friends to the new claimant.
*' I do not find, that a verbatim and official copy of their statements
was published. Bacon says, ' They agreed both in a tale, as the king
gave out to this effect ;' and then adds the narrative already stated in the
reign of Richard III. Vol. 3. His lordship adds, ' Thus much was then
delivered abroad, to the effect of those examinations. But the king,
nevertheless, made no use of them in any of his declarations, whereby, as
it seems, those examinations left the business somewhat more perplexed.
John Dighton, who, it seemeth, spake best for the king, was forthwith set
at liberty, and was the principal means of divulging this tradition.' p. 608.
The withholding from the public, of their exact confessions, is something
extraordinary, but may have arisen thus : Tyrrel, as a gentleman, would
have as little to do with the actual manual murder, as possible. That
he planned the deed, employed and sent in the agents, and glanced on
the bodies, and then set off to Richard, was, probably, all he did. The
disposal of the bodies, and the actual killing, he may have left to the men ;
and Miles Forrest, as the professional ruflaan, may have been the one most
acrive in burying the corpses. Dighton, less used to murder, may, like
Macbeth, have been afraid, or averse, to look again on what he had
done, and left the burial to the rugged Forrest. On these suppositions,
Dighton would not be able to have pointed out the exact spot where
Forrest had buried them ; and the inability to produce the bodies, at
that important crisis, may have alarmed Henry. Perkin said, he had
been saved and conveyed away by one of the employed assassins. As
the king, from the death of Forrest, could not produce the evidence of
both tblise, that the princes were killed; the single evidence of Dighton,
without the production of the remains, left a defect, that was not irrecon
cilable with Perkin's pretensions. Hence, the King was afraid of ex
posing to the verbal criticism of the public, at that moment, when so
many were eager and interested to point out the smallest imperfection,
F 3
70 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK Henry placed vessels of war, and soldiers he could
^- trust, to guard his coasts ; and employed every agency
and means to discover who this princely pretender
really was. The result of his inquiries his ambassa-
'487- dors communicated to the Austrian duke of Burgundy-;
and solicited him to discountenance the imposture.
His final answer to Henry, without deciding on the
genuineness of the pretender, was, that he would
not assist, him, but could not prevent the lady Mar
garet from exercising her own discretion oh. the
occasion.** Henry, with great wisdom, endeavored to defeat
the conspiracy by the gentlest means. He persuaded
Clifford to abandon it. He offered pardon and reward
to all who would do the same; and obtaining the
names of its supporters in England, he arrested lord
Fitzwalter, two knights, four gentlemen, and six
clergymen of rank,*' who abetted it. He forbad all
trading to Flanders ; and astonished the world, by
arresting, on the accusation of Clifford, his former
preserver, sir William Stanley, to whom he owed his
throne. Stanley was confined to his own chamber
in the Tower. The charge against him was, that he
the actual confessions. Unable then to find the bodies, he thought it
better to circulate the substance of the depositions, and to add a report,
which the murderers could not swear to, nor personally know, as they
did not assist, That a priest had afterwards moved the bodies to another
place. They who know, by experience, how written documents may be
commented on by parties interested to support a particular case, and
hovy much they may be perverted to mean something very different from
their intended import, will best understand Henry's judgment, in not
then submitting them to the inspection of his enemies.
" Graft, 900-2. Pol. V, 592,
'^ These were, sir WiUiam Rochford, doctor of divinity, and sir Thomas
Poynes, both Dominicans; doctor William Sutton; sir William Worsley,
dean of St. Paul's; and two others. Graft. 902. The two knights, and
another, were beheaded ; and the lord pardoned, till, attempting to escape
to Perkin,. he suffered also. Ib. Doctor Sutton was the parson of
St. Stephen Walbrook, Fabian, 530.
ON OF
HEN. VII.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 71
was secretly abetting the imposture, altho in the con- chap.
fidential post of lord Chamberlain to Henry.** Henry, j^
at first, would not believe it. When the truth became rei
evident, he arrested sir William, who ingenuously
confessed it.*' For this treachery he was arraigned
at Westminster, adjudged to death, and suffered at
Tower-hill on the 1 6th of February.*"
The king now inflicted severities like those for
which Richard had been reprobated. He caused
divers persons to suffer condign punishment in Eng
land for their seditious or disloyal expressions ; and
then sent an army into Ireland, under sir Edward
Poynings, to destroy the supporters of his youthful
competitor. Poynings assembled the Irish nobility,
who gave him fair promises; but dreading his threats,
" B. Andreas' information on sir William's alleged conspiracy, is,
' There were then living very learned and very religious men, who
were taken up, as in the conspiracy with the chamberlain. Among these,
was one who excelled in the knowlege of sacred literature, the provincial
of the Dominicans ; also, the dean of St. Paul's, doctor of divinity, and
some others. All these either gave money to Perkin, or privately sent it
to him, from others. But the chamberlain, the richest of all, possessed
great heaps of treasure, by which he had promised to bring him into the
kingdom, and to defend him in it. Sir Robert Clifford communicated
these facts to the king, who, as his wisecustom was, first, most prudently
investigated, whether what this person told him was true ; and, having
ascertained it to be so, then consigned his chamberlain to be punished by
the laws. MS. Dom. 1 8. p. 216,217. This direct and decisive evidence
shews, that sir William was planning to deal with Henry, as his brother,
lord Stanley, had with Richard. Pol, Virgil mentions, that Clifford
charged Stanley with being one of Perkin's allies, p. 593.
^ Pol. V. 593. It is not probable, that sir William's declaration.
That, if he were certain that Perkin was the son of Edward, he would
never bear arms against him, was the only ground of Henry's severity,
tho this might be all that sir William chose publicly to say. Yet this
speech implies, sufficiently, his adverse mind to Henry, No man, in
Stanley's situation, and after Lambert's imposture, would have said so
much, if he had not desired the success of the new plot, and to con
tribute to its prosecution.
'« Graft. 905. Pol. V. 563. He is included in the act of attainder,
(Stat, of the Realm, 2. p. 63,3) without a detail of his offence. It is
mentioned, that sir William had collected a treasure of 40,000 marcs, in
liis castle at Holt-Stpwe; and, from his tenantry, could have brought a
large force iiilo the field against the king.
-:2 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK withdrew into the woods and marshes of the country.
V- Sir Edward attempted a vigorous pursuit, but found
his force insufficient to act against them, in their
fastnesses and retreats. He surprised the earl of
Kildare ; yet Henry thought it politic not only to
release him, but to appoint him the lord lieutenant
of the island.*^
The young adventurer at length sailed from Flan
ders ; and on the 3d of July attempted to land at
Deal in Kent.** But finding that a party, which he
landed, was attacked as enemies, he returned to
Flanders, to consult on his further enterprise.*"
He sailed to Ireland, and thence passed into Scot
land, where the young king James decided to receive
him with honor, as the genuine duke of York ; and
to encourage his adherents, and evince his own con
viction, he married him to his near kinswoman, the
earl of Huntley's daughter ; and supplied him with an
army to enter England by the northern borders.""
His army plundered and ravaged in Northumber
land ; but, satisfied with their booty, would advance
no further. No Englishmen welcomed the pretend
ing prince ; and on his return to Scotland, the king
began to question his reality, and to relax in his
behalf."' In January 149G, Henry apprised his par
liament of the Scotch aggression."^
" Graft. 907, 8. Pol. V. 594, 5. ^ Stat, Realm, 2. p. 633,
^ Graft, 909. Pol. V. 596. Five captains, and 160 men, were taken.
B. Andreas says, about 40O. The king's speech, or rather prayer, on this
advantage, which he adds, was an expression of gratitude and resignation
to the Supreme, ending, ' No prosperity, no adversity, no chance, no
lime, no place, shall ever make us unmindful of Thee.' MS.
^o Graft. 912. Pol. V. 597. In this year died the duchess of York,
mother of Edward IV. and Richard III. Hall, 472.
"' Graft. 912-14. Pol. V. 598. On Perkin's transacUons in Scotland,
see Bernard Andreas' MS. History, p. 218; and Hall, 473-6.
"' Rolls Pari. 6. p. 509.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 7:J
Lord Daubeny was dispatched with an army to- chap.
wards Scotland ; but the people of Cornwall, resent- ^
ing a new taxation, assembled in a rebellion, formi
dable for its numbers, tho not for their efficiency.
They chose captains, and moved to Taunton. The
king was alarmed to hear, that Lord Audley and
several of the minor nobility had joined them ; and
that they were marching to London. He called
back lord Daubeny from the north, to meet them ;
while he commissioned the earl of Surrey to defend
Durham and the Scottish borders."^
The king, choosing to let their first impetuosity
waste itself, the rebels marched, unopposed, to Wells,
to Salisbury, to Winchester, and thence into Kent,
and reached Blackheath. They were meditating to
enter the metropolis, and attack the Tower ; when June 22d,
the king, sending the earl of Oxford, with a select S?"!^ ™
body of archers and men at arms, to take them in the beath.
rear, marched out of the city, to attack them in front.
In the first assault at Deptford bridge, they took
lord Daubeny prisoner; but unexpectedly released
him. The king had come upon them on the 2 2d of
June, two days earlier than he had threatened.
They could not long resist his forces. They were
soon dispersed ; many killed, more taken, and Audley
was hanged."* The invasion of the Scots was re
pelled, and retaliated, by the earl of Surrey, till the
king of Scotland agreed to a truce, and to convey
Perkin Warbeck out of his dominions."'
Perkin retired to Ireland, and endeavored to re-
'^ Graft. 916, 17, Pol, V. 599, 600. During the quarrel with Scot
land, all Scots, not denizens, were ordered to depart out of England
within forty days. Stat. Realm, 2. p. 553.
"' Graft. 920-2. Pol. V. 601-3. Stat. Realm, 2. p. 684.
"5 Perkin's volunteered statement to the Scottish king, and implied in
his proclamation, that Edward V. was murdered, seems a deciding cir-
74 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK vive the rebellion in Cornwall."" He called himself
^- Richard IV. obtained some support, and assaulted
reign of Exeter. Repulsed there, he attempted Taunton :
^i!^;J!^ the Cornish men talked of being desperate ; but when
1495- Henry's army was assembled under his most trusty
noblemen, Perkin, afraid of risking a battle, sud
denly destroyed all his own hopes, by flying at
midnight, with sixty horsemen, over the country to
Sonthampton. There he sought the shelter of the
church at Bewdley abbey ; and soon, with subdued
and desponding mind, submitted to the king, and
was taken to London. He was carefully watched,
but not harshly treated, till he escaped out of custody,
and reached the sea coast. Closely pursued, he
retraced his steps ; and solicited an asylum in the
priory of Sheen^ near Richmond. From this refuge
he was taken to London ; set in the stocks a whole
day, before the door of Westminster hall ; exposed
to the reproaches and insult of a deriding populace ;
and was carried through London the next day, to
the same degradation at the standard in Cheapside,
where he read a confession of his imposture, from
a copy of his own writing."'^ On that night, June
cumstance, to prove both his own imposture, and Richard's guilt. If,
as spme have surmised, Edward had died of illness and grief, and his
brother had been conveyed away, by his uncle's orders, to foreign parts,
Perkin, for the credit of the family, would have been taught so to state.
But his calling Richard, in his proclamation, ' our unnatural uncle,' and
adding to the same epithet, in Scotland, the additional charge that the
king employed an instrument to murder them both ; and that the
assassin had cruelly slain Edward, but had preserved him ; satisfac
torily shew, that no one then believed that Edward V. died a natural
death, find leave no doubt as to his own imposture ; because, Richard
and Tyrrel having, by his own statement, determined on their deaths,
would have taken care to be sure, that the catastrophe they planned had
been effected.
^ He landed at Whitsun-bay there, 7 September 1497. Stat. Realm,
684. SeeBern. And. MS. 219.
^ Pol. Virg. 608, Graft. The substance of the Gonfession was, that
he was born at Tournay ; his father's name, John Osbecke, a controller
of that town. That his mother placed him with a cousin, at Antwerp,
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 75
the 15th, he was committed to the Tower. There chap.
Warwick, the son of Clarence, had been confined for ^
fifteen years, by Henry, so continually secluded from reign op
all society, that his mind sank into such a state of "™- J"' .
fatuity, as to be unable, says the old chronicler, " to
discern a goose from a capon." Yet, an Augustine
friar, attempting to engraft on his name a new con
spiracy against Henry, persuaded one of his scholars
to personate him. in Kent. But the friar and his pup
pet were soon apprehended ; the latter was hanged
on Shrove Tuesday ; the other doomed to perpetual
imprisonment."* Perkin was enabled, by means unexplained, to
bribe and interest three of his keepers, to let him
and Warwick escape from the Tower. They were
taken. Perkin was drawn to Tyburn, and there
executed ;"" and the son of Clarence, for having
endeavored to escape with- him from an unjust
confinement, was arraigned for high treason,'"" con-
to learn Flemish. Returning home, a merchant of Tournay took him
again to Antwerp, where he became ill, and put him under a tradesman
at Middleburgh. That he went afterwards to Portugal, in an English^
ship, and entered a knight's service'at Lisbon; and that, attaching him
self while there to a Breton, he went to Cork, where, because he wore
silk clothes, the Irish would believe he was one of the Plantagenets ; and
urged him to pretend to be so. This confession makes no mention of
his having been in England, under Edward IV.; nor of the duchess
Margaret's concern with him. It seems to be a factitious paper, meant
to throw the whole imposture on the Irish ; and is not reconcilable with
the other facts about him, unless by supposing that they were inten
tionally suppressed. The end seems to have been, that, having ruined
his character by his flight, even his foimer friends cared for him no more.
This confession could only increase the public contempt for' him, as an
unsteady dastard, and as a juvenile impostor,
58 Graft. 931. PoLV, 608, 9.
^-' The discovery of the bones of children in the Tower, and the other
facts mentioned in the preceding pages, remove, so satisfactorily, to my
own judgment, all doubt of Richard's murder of his nephews, that I have
no question, that Perkin was as complete an adventurer as Lambert
Simnel. '* Therpoor helpless eari was charged with attempting to rescue Peter,
and to make him king. Stat. Realm, 2. p. 684.
76 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK fessed his effort to release himself; and for this
^- offence, was beheaded on the 28th of November
iiEiGN op J4yg.'"' This act too much resembles the worst
HEN. VII. ^ deeds of Richard III. The earl's imprisonment was
'497- an act of violent injustice ; and the execution of one
so debilitated by it, was little less than legal murder.
The private comforts of Henry afterwards began to
lessen. His eldest son soon died ; his own health
gave way, and he was in his grave at fifty-two.
But who can wear a crown gained in battle, and
contested afterwards by disaffection, with innocence
or happiness ? Virtue and felicity are the guests of
other homes.
State and It is remarkable, that in all the three impostures
Ihe^ciTurch ag^inst Henry, there were literally a priest and a plot.
A priest at Oxford trained Lambert Simnel ; two
Dominican friars, a dean of St. Paul's,'"* a doctor of
divinity, and other clergymen, were active supporters
of Perkin Warbeck ; and an Augustine friar brought
out the last pretender in Kent.'"^ These facts indicate
an hostility in a part of the church against Henry ;
'"' Graft. 933. It was said that the king of Spain had refused to wed
his daughter with the king's eldest son Arthur, while this heir to the
house of York was alive, ib. A reason for his execution which doubles
its guilt. Two years afterwards she came, and the nuptials took place;
ib. 935 ; but the prince scarcely survived them a year.
'"' This dean was, on the 13th November 1494, attainted of treason,
but afterwards pardoned. Stat. Realm, 2. p. 619. Fabian calls him ' a
famous doctor and preacher; the provincial of the Black Friars.' p. 530.
: '"' Besides these, we have other indications of some part of the clergy
persecuting Henry with conspiracies. The abbot of Abingdon connected
himself with Simnel's imposture, and Lincoln's rebellion ; and, the 1st of
January 1487, concerted, that J. Mayne should go to the eari abroad, and
give him money for those purposes. This Mayne, on the 1st of Decem
ber 1490, consulted with a priest, T. R., in London, to release Warwick
from the Tower ; and the priest went down to the abbot, to shew him
.' the clearness (that is, the innocence) of the said compassed treason.'
After the abbot had seen this man, he told Mayne that he was light
witted ; but he would reveal his mind to another person. They were all
charged with conspiring to levy war against the king, on the 20th of
December, and were attainted. Rolls Pari. 6. p. 346, 7,
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. :7
and lead the mind to inquire by what circumstances
it was occasioned.
Three questions early pressed upon Henry's at
tention, as to the church establishment. Was it to
be permitted to keep its great property, which the
laity wished to diminish and to share? Were its
luxuries and the display of its affluence, so criticised
by the rest of society, to continue? Should its
doctrines, discipline, authority and exerted power,
remain unaltered ? Of these momentous subjects,
Henry did not venture to meddle with the first ; he
left the property of the church to be regulated by
his successor : on the third, tho he did not suppress,
he did not encourage persecution ; but on the second,
the luxury and manners of the clergy, he felt himself
strong enough, from the support of some of their
wisest chiefs, to interfere, by positive and reforming
regulations. Sincerely attached to religion himself,
it was offensive to his own feelings and judgment, to
see it connected with luxury and immorality, in its
appointed teachers.
One of the first statutes of the king was made
" for the more sure and likely reformation of priests,
clerks and religious meii ;" and authorized all bishops
to punish them for any incontinence, by such impri
sonment as they should think expedient.'"* The pope,
Innocent VIII. applauding Henry's anxiety for the
increase of religion in his realm, complained very
early in his reign, of the application of the strong
hand of law to the clergy. He assured the king,
that it was not without grief of heart he heard, that
>«• Stat, of Realm, v. 2. p. 501. The additional P'".^''''°"±'^^J^-'
That the prelates could not be chargeable with an ««.on of false impu-
ronment, FoTso doing, implies, that before this act passed, the offending
clergy resisted the right of their superiors to correct them.
78 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK they had been sentenced by secular judges, to tor-
^- ture, to stripes, and even to the gibbet ; and that the
REIGN OF possessions of cathedrals, and the lands, not feudally
?^'''- J"- , held, of the bishops, had been confiscated, and this
1497- by the royal authority.'"' We have not the sove
reign's answer. But as in all instances of the trea
sonable priests, already alluded to, he took none of
their lives, but was content with their being consigned
to perpetual imprisonment ; it is manifest that he
yielded that deference to their asserted privileges,
as to allow their order to exempt them from the pu
nishment of death.'""
But in the first convocation after Lambert's im
posture, measures were begun for the reformation
of the church. It was stated, that many presbyters
badly conducted themselves; that they took their
repasts in taverns, and sat there almost all the day.'"'^
The rebuking letter of Morton, Henry's confidential
archbishop,'"* besides forbidding these practices, cen
sured also their mode of wearing their hair, so as to
conceal their tonsure ; and also their having their
garments open in front, so as to make little distinc
tion between themselves and laymen in their dress.
He also prohibited their having swords, daggers or
belts, or gold purses, or any ornaments of this pre
cious metal. Their non-residences on their benefices
were also.remarked and reprobated.'"" Yet he ob-
"" See his letter, dated 7 May, in Wilk. Concilia, 3. p. 616, 617.
"* Grafton remarks. At that time, here, in England, so much rever
ence was attributed to the holy orders, that although a priest had com
mitted high treason against his sovereign lord, and to all others, offenders
in murder, rape, or theft, yet the life was given, and the punishment of
death released, p. 93!.
'"^ See the proceedings in convocation, 3 Wilk. Cone. 618, 619.
. "" It is dated 16 March i486, in 3 Wilk. Cone. 619.
™ 3 Wilk.Conc. 619, 620.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 79
tained the grant of a subsidy for the king, and Chap.
another in the following year."" ^^i-
In 1489, Innocent VHI. granted the king an im- reI^of
portant bull for the reformation of the monasteries. '."""•J"-.
In this he stated, that he had heard that some mo
nasteries, the Clugny, the Cistercians, the Premon-
stratenses, and various other orders, had relaxed
their mode of living, and their appointed rules of ob
servances, and their pious contemplations, and were
leading a lascivious and too dissolute life. He there
fore authorized the king to direct the archbishop to
cause them all to be visited, and to reduce them to
their true and ancient customs, all excuses set apart ;
and to cut off and punish all that should prove re
bellious.'" In the next year, Morton exerted his intrusted
powers on the celebrated abbey of St. Albans. It
has been doubted if the monks, before their dissolu
tion, were so profligate as they have been often de
picted. The letter of Morton to the abbot of St.
Albans, must end all doubt on this subject."* He
tells the abbot, that he has been accused of simony,
"" Tb, 621, 630. The king sanctioned an act, which made void all
letters patent that exempted abbots, &c. from paying tenths, Stat,
Realm, 2. p. 530. Another act, enforcing the same measure, annulled
the instrument of EdwardlV. that discharged any spiritual persons from
paying their tenths or fifteenths, Ib, 552.
'" Wilkins has printed this bull, p. 631. Henry also obtained from
the Pope, in 1487, ahull, which Alexander VI, in June 1493, confirmed,
for lessening the privileges of sanctuaries. If criminals ever left them
to commit fresh offences, the sanctuaries might be entered. They were
to protect persons only, not goods; and the king might send keepers to
watch traitors in them, 12 Rym, 541, Henry afterwards acted with less
scruple towards these abused asylums, some of whose privileges lasted
even to our own times. In 1504, Julius II, granted a bull, that persons
suspected of high treason might be taken out to be judged, if not con
victed before, 13 Rym. Foed. 104.
"2 It is dated in 1490, and printed in Wilkins, p. 632. In this he
calls himself ' visitor, reformer, inquisitor, and judge.' Ib.
HEN. VII.
80 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK usury, the dilapidations of the goods and possessions
^- of the monasteries; and was noted for some other
REIGN OF enormous crimes ; that not only he the abbot, but
not a few also of his fellow monks, were leading a
vicious life, and frequently profaned the sacred places,
by shedding of blood, and unchastity. He specifies
the loose women, whom he had introduced as nuns
into the convent, and the profligate practices that he
and others were pursuing,"' He commands him to
make an eflfective reformation within sixty days, on
pain of further proceedings, in case he should be
disobedient or contumacious. Morton was strenuous
in pursuing his ecclesiastical reformations. Differ
ences arose between him and his brother prelates"*
upon them, and his life was endangered.'" But after
Morton's death, in 1500, the ecclesiastical luxury was
still repressed ; for a year afterwards, " the Gray Friars
were compelled to wear their old russet habit, as the
sheep doth dye it.""" Other dissensions prevailed
among the clergy.'"^ The king, venturing upon these
innovations on a body so powerful, will fully account
for the impostors that were sent abroad to dethrone
him, being countenanced or contrived by members of
I" Wilkins, 632. The privilege claimed by the church was also re
stricted by the benefit of clergy being ordered to be allowed only once to
persons not in actual orders. Stat. Realm, 538.
'" Fabian remarks, that in July I494, Dr. Draper was borne by force
out of St. Paul's, ' for a variance that there was between the bishops of
Canterbury and London.' p. 530.
'"' The statute on conspiracies by the king's servants, to murder his
counsellors or great officers, (Stat. Realm, 2. p. 521) is said to have
been passed, from Morton's danger from some ' mortal enemies in court.'
Lord Bacon, p. 594.
>'« Fab. 533.
'" Thus, in 1494, ' Dr. Hill, bishop of London, pursued grievously
the prior of Christ Church in London.' Fab. 529. And in March 1502,
' the prior of the Chartreux at Sheen, with another monk of that house,
was murdered by the sinister means of a monk of the same place, and
other mischievous persons.' Ib. 534.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 81
the church. But the spirit of improvement had chap.
awakened ; and another instance of it was the papal .^
limitation of the power of making saints. By his re'cn op
bull on this subject, in 1494, the Pope confines it to ^If^^
the pontifical chair alone ; and specifies the regula
tions under which they were from that time to be
created."* Yet Henry found it necessary not to prevent the
church from occasional persecutions of heresy. In
April 1494, he suffered an old woman to be burnt
for heresy ; "" and two years afterwards we read,
that many lollards stood with faggots at St. Paul's
cross.'*" As it is not said that they were destroyed,
the king may have compromised with the establish
ment to permit this exhibition, to deter, without al
lowing them to be killed. This ceremony of menace
was repeated in 1498, with twelve persons accused
of heresy ; '*' but in the next year, " an old heretic"
was, in Smithfield, consumed by the flames.'** In
the Lent of 1 505, a prior, with five other heretics,
were exposed, with indignity, at St. Paul's.'*^
The two great objects of foreign policy which oc- His foreign
cupied the anxious attention of Henry, were, the P""^"^^'
preservation of Flanders and Bretagne from being
united with France. The French government pressed
zealously forwards to both these objects ; and the
hostilities maintained by the towns of Ghent and
Bruges, against their duke Maximilian, assisted this
ambition. Charles VIII. sent an army of 8000 men
from France, under the lord Cordes, to assist the
"' See all the rules laid down by the Pope, in thedocument printed
in Wilkins, v. 3. p. 63G-9.
¦'» Fabian, 529. '» Ib. 53I.
"' Ib. 532. "= Ib. "' lb. 535-
Vol. IV. G
82 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK revolting towns, and to conquer Flanders. Henry
^- reinforced lord Daubeny, his governor at Calais, with
1 000 archers and soldiers, who, with the flower of
the garrison, joined the troops of Maximilian at New-
1497- port. Their united force, not 3000 men, marched
towards the French intrenchments at Dixmude, which
4000 of the disaffected Flemings had reinforced. The
English were conducted, unperceived, to one point
of the fortified encampment ; and moving rapidly to
the part where the artillery was posted, immediately
attacked it This policy was to discharge, with a
steady effect, their arrows, and then fall prostrate
while the ordnance fired over them ; to rise again, and
shoot while the cannon was re-loading ; and then to
charge before the foe recovered from the fatal effects
of the arrows. Another division of the English waded
the ditch, which the Germans leapt over with their
Moorish pikes ; and after suffering a loss of 8000 men,
the French party abandoned their guns and camp.
Cordes, to balance this defeat, with 20,000 troops,
attempted Newport, and carried the tower ; but a
bark, with eighty fresh English archers arriving at a
critical moment, the besieged rallied, and recovered
the tower; and the French believing that a great
English army had landed, abandoned their enter
prise in despair.'** As Maximilian was the son of the
emperor of Germany, the policy of Henry was ena
bled, in this quarter, to counteract effectually the
French ambition. By sir Edward Pownings, he took
Sluys, " the den of thieves to those who traversed
the seas towards the east parts," or the German
ocean, and the Baltic ; and by his co-operation, the
'" Graft, 880-2. Hall, 446. Pol. V.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. B3
province of Flanders was reduced to the authority of CHAP.
Maximilian.'*' ^
The efforts of Henry to prevent Bretagne from keign of
being incorporated with the French monarchy, were > — '-., — ^
less successful. When Charles VIII. with whom
Henry had made friendly truces,'*" in 1487, pursued
his quarrel with this duchy, with the hope of master
ing it, Henry endeavored to act as the mediator ; '*'^
and unwilling, as well from gratitude to Charles, as
from his wise system of peace with other countries,
to plunge into a serious war with France, he dis
countenanced sir Edward, now lord Woodville, the
valiant and chivalric brother of lord Rivers, who at
tempted, unauthorized, with 400 men, to assist the
Breton duke, by whom, in his necessities, he had been
so kindly entertained.'** Losing this opportunity of
securing the attachment of the Bretons, and of de
feating the French project, he left the forces of Bre
tagne to fight, unsupported by him, an unequal battle
with the power of Charles, and to be defeated.'*"
The duke dying, Henry perceived his error, and re
solved to assist the young duchess, his daughter, now
the sovereign of Bretagne, with troops;'^" but not
•^ Graf. 890. Hall, 452. Pol, V, On Henry's transactions with
France and Maximilian, see B, Andreas' contemporary account. MS,
Dom. 193—202, For a minute, detail of all the circumstances, I would
refer the reader to Rapin's History of England ; and for a more succinct
and correct one, to his Abr^g^ Historique des Actes Publics, v, 2,
p, 516-20.
"* See them, in Rymer's Foed, 12. pp. 277. 281. 344, dated 12 Oct.
1485, and 17 Jan. i486, and 14 July 1488. The last extended to
17 Jan. 1490'
'" Henry's mediatorial commissions are dated 7 March and 1 1 De
cember 1488, Rymer, 12. pp, 337, 347.
"» Hall, 439- Pnl- Vir,
'» This was the battle of St, Aubin tin Cormier, fought 27 July 1488,
in which lord Woodville fell. Hall, 441,
i3» On 23d December 1488, Henry issued the order to raise troops for
her succor, which is in Rymer, v. 12, p. 355; and on 10 Feb. 1489, hecove-
o 2
84 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK really pledging the force and vigor ofEngland in
V- the effort, he preferred negotiations,'^' to defer what
reign of he could not prevent ; and amid this hesitating de-
HEN^vii^ fence, the French obtained an ascendency in the
M97- country, which they never lost,''* Charles amused
Henry with ambassadors; and the Pope's legate,
by attempting a mediation, paralyzed the arm of
England. The French king was, in the meantime,
bribing the Breton nobility, and paying assiduous
attentions to Anne, the heiress of the province.'^'
Maximilian also wooed, and was privately contracted
or married to her by proxy ; '^'' but after some vacil
lations she decided the competition, by annulling her
engagement with Maximiliari, and giving her hand,
and with that, the duchy, to Charles.'^' Henry
nanted, by a treaty, to send her 6000 men, for which she was to pay, and
to give two towns as a pledge for their payment. She was not to make
peace without his consent, nor he to renew a peace with France, without
comprising her in it. See the treaty in Rym. p. 362.
"' See the commissions and documents on these, during 1.490, 1491,
in Rymer, v. 12. pp. 449. 453 431- 435.
"' There seems 10 bave been too much anxiety in Henry to be repaid
his expenses, and too much caution in the government of Bretagne against
him. Before his troops were admitted into Nantz, an oath was exacted
from him, that they should go out at the first request, Rym. p. 452 ; and
she agreed to deliver to him Morlaix, but to have its revenues, on paying
him 6000 gold crowns a year. p. 488,
'» Graft, 872-6, Hall, 449.
'^' This was in November 1489. It was not communicated to Henry
till the ensuing February 1491, on which he issued new commissions of
negotiation, Rym, 12. p, 435~8. In the last she is called queen of the
Romans; so that there was too much Machiavelian politics used on all
sides. I suspect, that the Breton government thought. Henry wanted to
ally the duchy to England, as much as Charles sought to add it to France ;
while Maximilian wished to annex it to his dominions. All the four
parties were finessing with each other, till Charles VIII. won both the
golden apple and the Venus.
'« Graft, 885-8, Hall, 451. He married her 16 Dec. 1491, The
only effectual means by wbicli Henry could have defeated Charles VIII.'s
annexation of Bretagne to France, was by marrying the heiress himself ;
and Bernard Andreas says, that before he left Bretagne, Frances had
often proposed this to him; ' sepius orando contendisset.' — MSS. Dom.
A, 18. p. l68. But on this subject Henry's hand was tied. His nuptials
with Elizabeth were the price of his English crown ; and the nation called
upon him to sacrifice all foreign interest to their domestic policy.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 85
attempted in vain, to prevent its absorption into the chap.
French monarchy. In 1491 he raised an army, ex- ^^^-
pecting a coinciding force from Maximilian ; but this
prince was unable to raise one. Disappointed of his
concurrence, Henry resolved to make a descent on
France himself; and on the 6th of October passed
over with his army to Calais, and there encamped.
Charles again had recourse to embassies and nego
tiations. Henry put on a warlike semblance, and
besieged Boulogne ; but the prize was gone. The
marriage of the heiress had united it irrecoverably
with the French crown. Nothing could sever them,
but battles like those of Poitiers and Agincourt,
and campaigns as successful afterwards as those of
Henry V. ; and what he could accomplish, with the
aid of Burgundy, against discontented France, in its
then inferior state, was impracticable now, in her
palmy state of strength, union, valor, and compact
dominion,'^" and with the Breton nobility favoring
the annexation. Henry, but unfirmly seated for some
time on his own throne, felt himself unequal to dis
solve an union which he might at one time have
prevented ; and making a peace with Charles, who
agreed to reimburse his expenses, he retired from
the contest ;'''^ leaving France to consolidate its
'=« Graft. 890-5.
"' One document in Rymer intimates that Charles VIII. was to pay
Henry 620,000 gold crowns, which the duchess owed him for his army,
and 125,000 for the arrears of the pension of Louis XI. Rym. p. 490.
The actual treaty d'Etaples, between Charles and Henry, dated 3 Sept.
1492, does not mention these payments. Its chief articles are, that the
peace should last to the death of both the kings ; and that it should com
prise the king of the Romans and his son. p. 497. But by the conven
tions of the 3d November and of lOth December, Charles became bound
to pay the above sums by 25,000 livres every half year. p. 506. He sub
mitted to be excommunicated, if he failed, p, 509, There are receipts for
these payments every half year, till Charles died. Ib. p. 527; &c. There
are also receipts for them from Louis XII. up to Henry's death, p.700,&c.
G 3 Pope
86 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK acquisition of a peninsular line of coast from Dol to
;_ the Loire, which includes Brest, the greatest station
of the French navy, the useful roads of the isles of
Ushant, and the convenient ports of St. Malo and
1497- L'Orlent.'^* The maritime results of this incorpora
tion have given a vigor to the power of France, more
effective than it derived from the addition of Nor
mandy or Guyenne, which it had wrested before,
from the misdirected government of England, under
Henry VI. and the Suffolk administration.'^"
Pope Alexander VI. granted a bull of excommunication against LoUis, if
he should fail, p, 762.
'^° In October 1491, the chancellor's speech, on the opening of Parlia
ment, stated, that the king had cause of war with France, for the dissimu
lation and dead faith of its government, but thought it right to temporize.
Rolls Pari. 6. p. 440. He made a preliminary treaty with this country
on 3 November 1492, but it was not finally ratified till Oct, 1495. Ib. 507.
"^ The king landed at Dover, on bis return from his ineffectual expe
dition 10 France, on 17 December 1492, Fab; 529.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES.
CHAP. IV.
Foreign Alliances 0/ Henry VII. — His Character; Public
Views; Death; and Beneficial Laws.
JtlKNRYmade an alliance with Ferdinand and Isabella, reign of
against France ; ' but his intercourse with the court < — '^^—L,
of Spain had little other result than cordial civilities,
and a contract of marriage between their daughter
Catherine and his eldest son Arthur.* He made also
alliances with the duke of Milan, the king of Naples,
the bishop of Liege, the archduke Philip, whom his
father Maximilian had set over the Low Countries,,
and the duke of Saxony, the governor of Friesland.'
He concluded a perpetual peace with the king of
Denmark, and with Portugal : * and treaties of com
merce with the republic of Florence, and with the
Low countries.' He also negotiated with the city of
Riga, concerning some of its ships, which English
cruisers had taken." He was empowered to assist
Ladislaus, king of Hungary, with money against the
Turks.^ ' See it in Rymer, p. 417, and the public papers upon it, 410-3. The
kingdoin of Spain was consolidated by the taking of Granada from the
Moors, 25 November 1491, Hall, 453, On 26 Nov, 1,504, Ferdinand
announced to Henry, tbat his queen Isabella had died that day, by his
letter in Rymer, 13. p. 1 12 ; and that she had appointed him the governor
of her kingdom of Castile, for their daughter Joan.
' The marriage is first mentioned in the treaty of 7 May 1489, ratified
20 Sept. 1490- Ib.p.4l7>
= See these in Rymer, 12. pp. 429. 720. 785. 576 ; and 13. p. 120.
< Rym. 12. pp. 374- 387-
^ Ib. 12. p. 389; and 13. p. 132. One article allows the fishers of both
nations to fish freely in every place without licence or passport.
« lb, 12, p. 701, ' lb, 13. p. 4, 5-
04
88 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK The pacification with Scotland ended, after much
negotiation,* in a marriage between its sovereign
REIGN OP James IV. and Margaret, the eldest daughter of
^ "'¦ Henry ; " an important union, as it occasioned the
1497- house of Stewart to succeed to the English crown.
The marriage of Catherine, the princess of Spain,
with Arthur, was also accomplished.'" She landed at
Plymouth, the 4th of October 1501 ; " and on the
12th of November, made her entry from Lambeth
into the metropolis.'* Two days after, she was mar
ried to the prince, then but fourteen years old. He
lived only a few months after these premature nup
tials ; " and Henry his brother, who had been made
duke of York, was now declared prince of Wales ; '* and
a dispensation from the Pope was soon afterwards
obtained, to allow him to wed his brother's widow.'*
' See these at first in 1487 with James III. in Rymer, 12. p. 328, and
after his death in many truces in the same volume. In 1497, Henry
issued letters patent, agreeing tbat his dififerences with Scotland should
be determined by the judgment of Ferdinand and Isabella, p. 671.
' A Pope's bull of dispensation was on 4 kal. Aug. 1500, obtained for
this marriage. Rym. p, 765. The treaty of marriage, dated 24th of
January 1 502, is in p, 787. The lady was only 12 years old on the 29th
of November 1501, but Henry was not to be obliged to send her before
the 1st of September 1503.
I '" She was the fourth daughter of Ferdinand and Isabella, Her por
tion was to be 200,000 crowns of gold, one-half to be paid on her reach
ing England, and the rest in two years. Her dowry was to be 23 or
25,000 crowns. Rym. 417, See also the official instrument, p, 754. 780.
" Fab. 533,
" Graft, 935, For a full and picturesque account of her reception in
England, and of the jousts and banquets given on the occasion, which are
curious for displaying the expiring ceremonies of chivalry, see the MS.
detail printed by Hearne, in 5 Lei, Collect, 352-373,
" He died on the 2d April 1502. There is a full detail of his state
interment printed by Hearne, 5 Lei. Col. 373.
'* The patent so creating him, dated the 26th of June 1502, is in Rymer,
13. p., II. On the 24th of October 1503, Henry VII. made a treaty
with her parent, for marrying Catherine to his son, afterwards Henry VIII,
It is like the one for Arthur, exceptimg that Henry had received half her
portion, Rym, 13. p. 36.
" This bull, which became the subject of so much discussion, on
Henry VIII's divorce, dated 7kal, Jan, 1503, is in Rymer, 13, p, 88,
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 89
A delay on its celebration took place, which gave time chap.
for the English king to have some scruples about it,'" ^^-
and for his son, the intended husband, to object to it.
Hence it was not completed while Henry lived ; and
it was at last effected, with the ultimate result of
causing that celebrated divorce, to which the Pro
testant religion owed its first legal establishment in
England. Arthur's mother rapidly followed him to
the grave,"^ And Henry began afterwards to nego
tiate for another wife ; '* but either his illness, or
Philip's death, the brother of the intended queen,
changing this intention, he made a treaty of marriage
between his second daughter Mary, and Charles,
then archduke of Austria and prince of Spain, who
reigned afterwards the celebrated emperor Charles V.'"
This priiice was then only seven years old. It was
actually solemnized at the end of 1508, by his sub
stitute, who kissed the lady and put a ring on her
finger.*" But this ceremony was all that followed from
'^ Moryson's Apomaus,
" On the merits of this princess, it is just to hdr to add the testimony
of Bernard Andreas : ' From her youth, ber veneration for the Supreme,
and devotion to him, were admirable. Her love to her brothers and
sisters was unbounded. Her afl^ection and respect to the poor, and to
religious ministers, were singularly great,' MS, ib, p. 168.
" The commission to John Young, concerning this incident, dated
10 May 1506, is in Rym. 12. p. 127. The lady was Margaret of Austria,
sister of Philip, then the governor of the Low Countries. Her dowry was
to have been 300,000 French crowns, and an annuity, during the marriage,
of 3850 more. Ib. But Philip died that year, and the treaty was not
completed. ".By the treaty signed at Calais, 2lst December 1507, the marriage
was to take place before Easter 1508, on pain of heavy penalties. Her
dowry was to have been 250,000 crowns of gold. Rym. 12. p. 171. On
26th October 1508, an instrument was signed by Maximilian and Charles,
appointing a lord of Bergen-op-Zoom to attend to solemnize these nup
tials in the name of Charles; and it nientions that Henry's illness, from
which he had recovered, bad occasioned the delay of the ceremony. Ib.
*¦ The official instrument stating this, and the words of their mutual
affiance, on 17th of December 1508, is in Rym. 12.. p. 236. — Charies,
with permission of his grandfather Maximilian, pledged to Henry a
jewel, called, ' the rich fleur de lys,' weighing in its gold and stones 211
ounces, for 50,000 crowns, • Ib. 239.
HEN. VII.
90 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK the engagement. Charles changed his mind and po-
^- litics, and the lady had to seek her husband else^
EEiGN OF where. It was in March 1501, that sir James Tyrrell, the
principal murderer of Edward V. was arrested, with
his eldest son, on a charge of treason ; and on the
6th of May following, perished on the scaffold. He
was connected with the last insurrectionary attempt
of any of the nobility. The earl of Suffolk, a de
scendant of the ill-fated minister of Henry VL and
son of a sister of Edward IV. enraged, because he
had been compelled, by Henry's impartial justice,
to stand a trial for killing a person in his passion,
quitted England to join the old duchess of Bur
gundy. Pardoned by Henry's clemency, he again
allied himself with her, in enmity against the king.
This conduct excited Henry to arrest those who were
accused of hostility against him. Some were impri
soned; and Tyrrell, with others, executed.*'
In estimating the character and reign of Henry,
too narrow views have been taken ; and the diffi
culties amid which he had to act, have not been
sufficiently contemplated.
He may be considered as the great re-founder of
the English monarchy. He terminated the agitations
and danger of the throne, which had almost become
a Polish sovereignty : an aristocracy of many petty
kings, obeying the nominal and paramount one no
longer than they pleased ; and choosing or deposing
him, and changing the dynasty, as it chanced to gra
tify their passions, or to suit their varying interests.
This power and custom disappeared from England
after Henry VII. had acceded. The great nobility
" Graft. 937..9.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 91
shook and disposed of the crown no more; tho va- chap,
rious attempts were made against Henry to renew ^^-
such anti-national disorders. He gave the English reign of
crown a permanent stability ; and he mea^it to do so. ^I^Il^JIl,
One of his greatest aims was to rescue it out of the
dictatorial tyranny, both of the nobility and the
church establishment, who had each at various pe
riods, chained, threatened, and subverted it; and to
rest it on the general interests and affections and
prosperity of the country. He considered the whole
nation as one great family headed by himself; and
he depressed the two classes that had so long main
tained a disproportionate degree of power, to the
prejudice of the universal improvement and comfort.
These plans necessarily produced much obloquy ;
yet even in his own days his merit was felt amid all
the opposing interests and prejudices that attacked
him ; and he died with the epithet fixed upon him,
of a second Solomon.** He was so respected abroad,
that three popes of Rome elected him before all the
other reigning kings, as the " chief defensor" of
Christendom ; and sent him by three successive em
bassies, three swords and caps of maintenance.*' He
conquered his numerous enemies, " by his great
policy and wisdom, more than by shedding of blood
or cruel war." **
It was essential to his great public objects, that he
should break down the power of the unruly aristo
cracy, which was reviving in new trunks and ramifi
cations, from the injuries it had received during the
civil wars. He saw, that one necessary means was,
" Fabian, then alive, says, ' he may most congruly, above all earthly
princes, be called the second Salomon, for his great sapience and acts.'
P' 5.37-
^' Ib. 537. » Ib.
HEN. Vir.
92 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK to wean the minds of Englishmen from that love of
^' war, to which their courage and activity of spirit
REIGN OF made them at that time so peculiarly prone ; and the
education for which made his nobility too martial
for the safety of the throne, and for the tranquillity
of the kingdom. With this view, he not only pro
fessed to love and seek peace, and made it, as lord
Bacon says,** the usual preface in his treaties, that
when Christ came into the world, peace was sung
by angels; and when he left it, he bequeathed peace
as their great characteristic to all his followers ; but
he also caused his chancellor to give his parliament
one of the wisest lectures on the only just causes of
war, that it had ever, up to that time, heard.*"
Henry was not averse to state, but he used it for
its kingly effect and public utility, not for his per
sonal exaltation.*' He made his royal ceremonials
auxiliary to his great design of occupying, civilizing,
and weakening his nobility; and weaning them from
that turbulence, in which they had, till his reign,
chiefly sought their consequence, and employed their
time.** The splendid exhibitions caused an emulous
rivalry, which exhausted their means, but satisfied
their vanity ; and the joust and tournament which he
patronized, the harmless semblance of war, and
peaceful fountains of popular applause, gave them
enough of the bustle and parade of military dress
and display, to keep them from the reality, and to
"' Bacon, 635. =» See it hi Pari. Rolls, 6. p. 440.
'" Grafton mentions, ' He so much abhorred pride and arrogance, that
he was ever sharp and quick to them which were noted or spotted with
that crime.' p. 948.
=" Grafton adds, ' There was no man with him, though never so much
in his favor, or having never so much authority, that either durst or could
do any thing as his own phantasie did serve him, without the consent or
agreement of the other.' Ib,
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 9r«
supersede the desire for its occurrence. Their tastes, CHAP.
by this wise management, increased for peaceful ^^-
grandeur and domestic comforts ; and his reign reign op
may be considered as the completion of that transition '.J^i^^^J^
of the warring baron to the pompous lord, which
has since advanced to the elegant gentleman and
highly cultivated mind.*"
It was Henry's steady and determined pursuit of
this great object, and the effective means which he
adopted for attaining it, which has given that pecu
niary reproach to his character, that has been so
often repeated by misconception and by rote. It Is
as true of greatness as of war, that money is its
sinews ; therefore, when Henry caused the illegal
actions of his nobility and gentry to be pursued and
punished by fines, he took the most effectual way to
disable and reduce them to that subordination
which the common welfare demanded. It was their
revenues which annexed to their arm and voice such
multitudes of retainers, and which had so often
enabled them to stand embattled against the crown.
Hence, when lord Oxford, on receiving a visit from
Henry, chose to display a military retinue, which
alarmed the king, altho he was told that they
were not usually attendant, but had been specially
provided to do him honor; he wisely replied, altho
to a friend, " My lord ! I must not suffer my laws
to be broken in my presence — my attorney general
^ The stately splendor in which he indulged his nobility and people,'
perhaps, more than himself, may be seen in his manner of holding his
royal feasts at Christmas, 4 Lei. Col, 234-7 ; and at Easter, and St,
George, and Whitsuntide, 238-248 ; on the queen's taking her chamber,
at her lying-in; and on the creation of Arthur prince of Wales, 250 ; and
the christening of the princess, 20-7; on the fiancial of this lady with
the king of Scotland, 258-64; and on her departure ftom England, and
marriage in Scotland, 265-300,
94 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK must speak to you about this ;" and this legal officer
^- enforced the subsisting statutes that forbad retainers,
so effectually against the earl, that he was obliged
to pay a fine of 1,5,000 marcs.'" The true friend of
the crown could not have made the king's visit the
pretence of reviving the proud custom of numerous
retainers. It was an act of selfish display, that
would have been eagerly imitated, on other pretexts,
if the present attempt had been passed over un
punished." We may regard, with few exceptions,
Henry's enforcement of pecuniary penalties, as part
of his wise means to disable faction and oppression ;
tho the very good he achieved by it, created in
his own time, the imputation from those whom it
corrected, that avarice, and not the public benefit,
was his motive.^* When we read in a writer who
was present at the time, that lord Strange, the son
of Stanley, brought to the king, before the battle of
Stoke, a great host, only from his father's folks and
his own, sufficient of themselves to have beaten all
the king's enemies,^' we cannot but feel that the
*> Bacon, 630.
" That Henry prosecuted, to the fines and penalties he levied, for the
purpose of humbling those who were too great, or too violent, for the
good of all, is not the fancy of the present writer. It was his own ac
count of his motives. Our old chronicler has mentioned this fact : ' He
did use his rigour only, as he said himself, to bring low and abate the high
stomachs of the wild people, nourished and brought up in seditious fac
tions and civil rebellions, and not for the greedy desire of riches, or hun
ger of money,' Graft, 949,
" So Grafton intimates : ' Such as were afihcted, would cry out and
say, that it was done more for the desire of gain and profit, than for any
prudent policy or politic provision,' Ib,
*¦ 4 Lei, Collect, p, 213. How greatly the penalties exacted from
the nobility must have weakened their power, we may judge from observ
ing, that one of the articles im Empson's account of the sums he
received, is ' 69,900 I., the condemnation of lord Bergavenny, for such
retainers as he was indicted for in Kent.' Hari, MS. N" 1877. The
same MS, shews that lord Stanley was fined 6000 i.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 95
crown was in continual jeopardy, while any noble- CHAP.
man could, from his own resources, raise such a ^^-
force. Another direction of his public care, was to make
the law the universal, impartial, silently-ruling, but
irresistible sovereign of all classes of the community.
The great and restless disliked, but the people at
large always love the reign and exercise of law. It
is the only weapon by which the inferior and the
weak can safely and effectually combat against
power. It is at once the shield and sword of all in
their civil transactions ; and that it might become so,
it was necessary to reduce, and 1o accustom, the
higher orders to its domination ; and to cause all
ranks to feel, in order that all might recognize and
obey, its authority and corrective force. To pro
duce this effect, was another great cause of the
king's enforcing the legal penalties. It was as im
portant to deter the smaller orders from joining the
wealthier, or the disaffected, as to abase and circum
scribe those. Every insurrection exhibits to us a
long train of minor names, who chiefly pursued it ;
and especially after the great lords became more
cautious, and put their inferiors forward into the
front of the battle. The public peace could not
therefore be secured, until the middling and lower
orders had been taught to know that the arm of
law could reach them, and to dread its inflictions.
Viewed in this light, what has been called his ava
rice, was in truth his clemency, mildness and en
lightened judgment; and his penal severities were
often mitigated by an active kindness towards the
offending.^* He found the fines also useful in pre-
=* So Grafton, 'To this severity ws^s joined a certain merciful pity.
96 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
venting those taxations which, tho often imposed
under other sovereigns, had twice caused insurrec
tions in the country.
That the king expressly acted on the principle of
making the law the master of all, we see by the
speech he caused to be made to the parliament, in
January i ,503, on the inestimable value to every state,
of justice and law. The chancellor enforced on their
attention, that justice was the queen of the virtues ;
that without it, kingdoms were but great dens of rob
bers ; that all states were upheld by the laws, and
that justice was their architect ; that it was the most
honorable, the most useful, and the most pleasant of
all things. His eloquent oration, ending with this
peroration from St. i^ustin ; " Despise dungeons, de
spise bonds, despise exile, despise death — but let all
men love justice : " is said to have had a wonderful
effect in animating the distinguished hearers to an
ardent attachment to this great social virtue.**
But it is not probable, from the usual effect of hu
man imperfections, that the king could have always
pursued his wisest objects, or had them enforced, in
an unexceptionable manner. Misinformation, wrong^
judgments, fraud of others, occasional passion in him
self, official harshness in executing right sentences,
abuse of legal power in those who enforced it, would
not unfrequently convert law into tyranny, and use
ful fines into oppressive exactions. Law is a weapon
which he did often show to such as had offended, and were amerced.
For, such of his subjects as were fined by his justices, tb their great im
poverishing, he, at one time or another, did help, relieve, and set for--
ward,' p, 949-
^ See the speech in Rolls Pari. 6. p. 520, Grafton notices, that ' He
was an indifferent and sure justicier, by the which one thing he allured'
to him the hearts of many people, because they lived quietly and in rest,
out of all oppression and molestation of the nobility and rich persons.'
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 97
ever liable to be misused ; and severe are the wounds C HAP.
of its unprincipled blows. Many grievances, there- ^^-
fore, must have accompanied Henry's legal inflic
tions ; and the experience of human nature assures
us, that the accumulation of treasure tends as much
to increase the desire, as to lessen the Indelicacy of
the means of acquiring it. Hence, when it is said,
that he allowed or encouraged Empson and Dudley,
his lawyers, to indict " divers subjects accused of
sundry crimes," to extort great fines ; *" and that they
executed their commission with an insatiable and
oppressive rapacity, that blemished his own character,
some portion of their misconduct may be attributable
to himself; to his regard rather to the pecuniary re
sults, than to the justice of the prosecutions. He may
have occasionally forgotten the Ciceronian maxim,
which all ages concur to verify, that the Summum
Jus, becomes also the Summa Injustitia.*'^
'^ Bacon, 629, The king was reported to have left I,8oo,000/. ster
ling in his treasury. Ib. 635.
" Among the Harleian MS. in the British Museum, is one of the ac
counts of Dudley, of the fines and dues he received, wbich we shall tran
scribe. It discovers one fact, not exclusively attributable to Henry, but
belonging to the age ; that a number of offices were purchased or paid
for by money, which ought never to have been venal.
' Here followeth all such obligations and sums of money as sir Edmond
Dudley have received of any person, for any fine or duty to be paid to
the use of our sovereign, Henry VII. since the first time that I, the said
Edmond, entered the service of our said sovereign, that is, the gth Sep
tember, 20 year ; all which obligations and sums, I, said Edmond, have
delivered to our said sovereign, and to John Heron, to the use of his high
ness. And so, at this quote day, the 24<A January, the year aforesaid,
there remains in my keeping and custody no obligation, and no suras.
Churchwarden of St. Stephen's, Coleman street, in hand, 25 /. 25 1, by
obligation.
Carell and his son, for their pardons, lOOO/. Recognizance, 900/. 100/.
in money.
21 H. VII. City of London, for the confirmation of their liberties,
5000 marcs, by fine.
Several obligations for Richard Corson,
John Arundel, for his discharge of a certain sum claimed to be due.
Sir James Tyroll, 100 marcs. R' Buckhard,
Vol, IV. H
98 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK Henry was not an old man when he died,** but the
^- infirmities of age advanced prematurely upon him.
r.EIGN OF ~ ~ II
HEN. vir. °° He was a few months short of 53. He had reigned 23 years 8 months.
R. Buckhard, for the office of customarship in the port of London, 125
marcs, money; 125 marcs by obligation.
J. Warwick, 100 marcs, money; 100 marcs by obligation; and 20/.; for
license to make clerks.
Merchant Tailors, for the charter of their liberties being inrolled in Lon
don, 100/. money.
For pardon of M. Curtis, late customar of London, for discharge of his
offences in the office, received 500 marcs.
J. W. for a bailiwick, 20 marcs, money.
Office of keeping the great wardrobe, granted to A. W. 200 /,
22 H, VII. License to C. Brandon, to marry lady Mortimer, 40 /.
Form of your average of London, 20/,
Alderman, foryour gratious favor in his being sheriff, 100 Z. money.
Restitution of bishop of Ely to his temporalities, 3800/. obligation;
2000 marcs, money.
Your clerkship of Hull, lo6 I. 13 s. 4^,
Prior, for amortizing and appropriation of a prioiy in Essex, 400/.
Adventurers for king's favor, going to Flanders, 200 /,
Alderman of London, for liberty to be mayor of the staple at West
minster, for life, 100/.
23 H. VII. Men of London, incorporated, for 20 I. — Delivered to king
his great books, called ' Jura Regalia.'
For one RatclyfF, for the office of clerk of the records in the Tower, 20 1.
money.
Pardons of Knosworth, 500 Z.; Shore, 500Z. ; Grove, 133^. e.?. 8d. Al
derman of London, 1033/. 6s. 8c?.
To be porter of Calais, 200 I.
Bishop of Durham, an indenture, by which he was bound to pay king
20,000/.
Abbot of Cistercians, for confirmation of their franchises and privileges,
and to use their free elections without license, 5000/.
Cardinal B. Bath, according to agreement, 500/.
P. C. for his pardon, 300 inarcs ; obligation lOOO/.
P. H. shall ship so much merchandizes in three years, as he shall pay,
for the customs and subsidies thereof, 1000 Z. to the king's coffers.
Bishop of Bath, loot, a-year, so long as he shall be bishop.
J. Y. pardon, 500 marcs.
Discharge for buying certain alloms, contrary to restraint, 200 I.
License for butt of malmsey, 5 1.
Ditto, 210 butts, 70/. 3 s. 4 d.
Delivered three exempHfications, under the seal of king's bench, of the
condemnation of the lord Bergavenny, for such retainers as he was in
dicted of in Kent, amounting unto, for bis part only, after the rate of
the raoneths, 69,900 1.
For king's favor in deanery of York, lOOO marcs.
Pardon for Alderman, 1000 marcs.
M. Rede, for king's favor to him, in the office of chief justice of common
pleas, 400 marcs. Clerk
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 99
In a letter to his mother,'" breathing the truest filial chap,
kindness, tho it was not long,- he complains that his ^^-
sight was impairing, and that he had taken three reign of
days to write it,*" A severe illness increased upon
him during the last few years of his life ; but in the
Lent before he died, he began to look forward to his
next change of existence, and to rectify some points
of his conduct, in case he should survive. He told his
HEN, VII.
^ Some of his expressions shew his good feeling, ' Madam ! my most
intirely well beloved lady and mother! I recommend me unto you in the
most humble and lowly wis& that I can, beseeching you of your daily and
continual blessings.' — After noticing her requests to him, he adds, ' all
which things, according to your desire and pleasure, I have, with all my
heart and good will, granted unto you. And, ray dame, not only in this,
but in all other things that I may know should be to your honor and
pleasure, I shall be as glad to please you as your heart can desire it; and
I know well that I am as much bounden so to do, as any creature living,
for the great and singular motherly love and affection that it hath pleased
you, at all times, to bear towards me; wherefore, mine own most loving
mother! in my most hearty manner, I thank you ; beseeching you for
your good continuance in the same.' — Sermon on Margaret, p. 38. It
is pleasing to read this effusion of natural sentiment from a king near the
age of fifty, to his aged parent.
¦"' He says, ' Verily, madam, my sight is nothing so perfect as it has
been, and I know well it will appair daily. Wherefore, I trust that you
will not be displeased, tho I write not so often with mine own hand ; for,
on my faith, I have been three days ere I could make an end of this
letter.' Ib. p. 40.
Clerk of the peace, War%vick, 40 marcs.
Earl Derby's pardon, 60OO I.
Poorof Christchurch in London, 500 marcs, for their free election, resti
tution, and king's assent,
21 H. VII. Discharge of Kidell's mills, &c. ; of Sir J. S, 300 marcs,
Kidell of eari Derby, 20 1.
. abbot Peterborough, 93 1. 6 s. 8d.
Mastership of king's mint, 400 marcs,
Weyership of works, lOol.
Prior of Christchurch, restitution of temporalities, 900 inarcs.
License for 1020 butts of malmsey, and botolarge of same, 391 Z.
Ditto, 900 butts, 500 marcs.
To be delivered to king, one carpet, 12 yards long, and 3j broad, forfeit
to him by one Currant, of Exeter.
My lord of Canterbury, for scape of 16 men, convicted, 1600/. and for
the restitution of his temporalities, 1064/.'
H 2
100 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK confessor, that he had determined on three things;*'
^' 1 St, A true reformation of all the officers and ministers
KEilT^F of his laws, that justice from thenceforward might
li EN. vu^ ^Q ^^jjiy and indifferently executed in all causes ;
" 2d, That the promotions of the church, which were
in his disposal, should be thenceforward given to
able men, who were virtuous and well learned;**
3d, That as to those, who were in jeopardy from his
laws, for things formerly done, he would grant a
pardon generally to all. These resolutions imply
that he felt some deficiencies in all these points. He
often mentioned to his most confidential attendants,
that if it should please the Most High to prolong his
life, they should see him a new and a changed man.
He acknowleged, with great humility, the singular
benefits he had received from the divine favor ; and
accused himself of ingratitude, in not having more
assiduously promoted the honor, and preferred the
will and pleasure of that Sovereign,*' to whom com
pared, all others are but an insignificant name.
He had been always attentive to his religious du
ties, according to the fashion of his day. Believing
in the efficacy of prayer for his welfare, he had a
collect daily said for him in all the churches ; and
in many years, about Lent, he sent money for 10,000
masses to be recited in his behalf He gave both
¦" I take these facts from the bishop of Rochester's funeral Sermon,
delivered over his body on the lOth of May 1509. Harl. MS. N°7030.
p. 209. He discharged all prisoners about the city, that lay for fees or
debts under forty shillings. Bacon, p. 634.
" In a letter to his mother, in which he mentions his desire to make
his confessor, Dr. Fisher, a bishop, he says, ' by the promotion of such a
man I knew well it should courage many others to live virtuously, and
to take such ways as he doth. I have, in my days, promoted many a man
unadvisedly, and I would now make some recompensation to promote
some good and virtuous men.' — Ex. Regist. Col. Jo. Sermon, p. 41.
^' Hari. MS. N" 7030, p, 210.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES, lOi
daily and annual alms to the poor and needy; and CIIap.
never heard of a virtuous man in his kingdom, but ^^-
he was anxious for his prayers ; and settled on them reign of
pensions, some often marcs, on others ten pounds.** "™"J"',
As his malady advanced, he submitted to the
Romish ceremony of aneling or anointing, for which
he offered every part of his body. He performed his
penance with that compunction and those tears which
were then so valued; sometimes weeping and sob
bing three-quarters of an hour. The sacrament of
the altar he received with the deepest reverence,
advancing to it on his knees. He contemplated the
image on the cross, that was held before him, with
earnest devotion ; holding up his hands ; embracing
it; and trying to lift up his head, as it approached.
For twenty-seven hours the agonies of death were
upon him. His pains were fierce and sharp, and
almost unceasing. He called repeatedly upon the
Saviour he adored, with fervent supplications for
ease and succor, " O! my blessed Jesus — O! my
Lord! deliver me — deliver my soul from these deadly
pangs, from this corruptible body — O ! deliver ray
soul from everlasting death," It pierced the hearts
of his attending friends, to see his agonies and to
hear his groans;*' at length, the hour of happy re
lease arrived; his corporeal frame became insensible;
and his emancipated spirit flew to regions more con
genial with its separated nature.
The encomium of the affectionate bishop is warm,
but seems not exaggerated,*" The less partial and
" Hari, MS. N" 7030. p. 210. "* Ib, p. 212-217.
** ' His politique wisdom in governance it was singular ; his wit alvvays
quick and ready, pythly and substantial; his memory, fresh and holding;
his experience notable; his counsels fortunate, and taken by wise deli»
beration; his speech gracious, in divers languages; his person goodly
H 3
102 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
more frigid chroniclers, are little less commenda
tory,*' His pleasing countenance interested his sub
jects ; ** and his manners and qualities displayed the
genuine virtues of a wise Christian and kingly heart,*"
In danger prompt, self-present and determined, his
spirit always rose to the necessary energy, and de
vised and performed what the exigence demanded.
It was his firm and lofty wish always to look his
perils in the face, and to deal with them hand to
hand.=" His regard for trade was attested, not only by his
laws for its benefit, but by his personal and disinte
rested kindnesses to those who conducted it;" and
was rewarded by the augmented affluence and sus-
and amiable; his natural complexion of the purest mixture. His
mighty power was dreaded every where, not only within his realms, but
without also. His dealing, in time of perils and dangers, was cold and
sober, with great hardiness.' Fun. Sermon, Harl. MS. 7030. p. 208.
¦" Thus Grafton: ' Of wit in all things, quick and prompt; of a
princely stomach and haute courage. In great perils, doubtful affrays,
and matters of weighty importance, supernatural, and in a manner divine.
Such things as he went about, he did advisedly, and not without great
deliberation and breathing.' p. 948.
¦"" In his progresses, his person is thus described by Grafton, — ' Of
body but lean and spare, albeit mighty and strong therewith ; of person
age and stature somewhat higher than the meane sort of men be; of a
wonderful beauty and fair complexon ; of countenance merry and smiling,
especially in his communications; his eyes grey, his hair thin.' p. 948.
" ' He was sober, moderate, honest, affable, courteous, and boun
teous.' Bern. Andreas, the preceptor of his son Arthur, describes him
in three neat lines ;
' Princeps, ingenio nitente praestans;
Fama; religione; comitate;
Fensu ; sanguine; gratia; decore.'
MSS. Domit. ; and in Speed's Hist. p. 740.
°° Speed, p. 775. To please the citizens of London, and to honor
trade, he became a member of the Merchant Tailors company. Ib. 748.
»' Thus Grafton says, that to the merchants, ' he himself, of his own
goodness, lent money largely, without any gain orprqfit, to the intent that
merchandize, being of all crafts the chief art, and to all men both most
profitable and necessary, might be the more plentifuUer used, haunted,
and employed, in his^realms.' p. 949.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 103
tained prosperity of the country .°* He accepted the chap.
offer of Columbus, to make his adventurous voyage; ^^'
and would have patronized it, if he had not been reign of
forestalled by Isabella.^' He gave his sanction to the '>lf^:Jiii,
maritime expedition of the Cabots, which discovered
Newfoundland ; ^* and which was at Henry's ex
pense ; °' and also to other adventurers.'" He favored
every national improvement, that was then under
stood or pursued ; and fulfilled his own early wishes,
of ruling for the benefit of his subjects. No preced
ing sovereign had so well or so abundantly combined
the personal, moral, political and intellectual quali
ties of the true English king. His real character
seems to have been, sedate thought, well-governed
mind, calm temper, active spirit, extensive foresight,
large views and enlightened judgment. His feelings
were subjected to his reason. Early adversity had
*' ' He, by his high policy, marvellously enriched his realm and himself;
and yet left his subjects in high wealth and prosperity. The proof whereof
is apparent, by the great abundance of gold and silver yearly brought
into this realm, both in plate, money, and bullion, by merchants passing
and repassing with merchandize,' Graft. 949.
'^ The son of Columbus states, in his Life of his father, that Columbus
sent his brother Bartholomew to Henry VII. to ofler his service in a voy
age of discovery; who, on the 13th of February 1488 (1489) made a map
of the world, and presented it to Henry, The king accepted his proposal,
' con allegro volto,' with a cheerful countenance ; and sent to call hira ;
but before Columbus heard of the success, he had engaged himself to
Isabella. Hakluyt's Voyages, 1 p. 507-8,
^' Henry's letters patent to John Cabot, a Venetian, and his sons
Sebastian and Sancho, to sail to all parts of the world under his flag, with
five ships, to discover new countries, and to take possession of them as
his governors and deputies, paying him one-fifth of their profits ; and to
import their merchandize free of all custom duties, is dated the 5th of
March 1496. Rym, Foed. 12. p. 595. It was in the summer of 1496,
that Sebastian Cabot says that he sailed. Hackluyt, p. 512.
°5 So Baptiste Ramusius says, that S. Cabot wrote to him, ' at the
charges of king Henry VIL' Hakl. 513. Gomara also mentions that the
ships were rigged at Henry's costs. Ib. 514. So Fabian.
50 On the 9th of December 1502, a patent was granted to Hugh Eliot
and Thomas Ashurst, merchants of Bristol ; and to Jean and Gonzales
Fernandez, Portuguese, to search for new countries. 13 Rym, 37.
H4
hen, VII.
104 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK excited energy, but subdued enthusiasm. Danger
^- made him cautious, but not cowardly. He never en-
eeign of terprised beyond his power of achieving. He never
risked the possessed, for any superior but uncertain
good. His habitswere domestic and moral. His social
demeanor easy, kind and interesting. He made reli
gion a principle, a duty and a habit; and he found it
his best refuge, an unfailing consolation, and his most
pei-manent felicity. But state policy, and the resent
ing struggles of attacked power, sometimes broke into
the unity of his moral rectitude; and have left blots,
which if he had not been violently placed in his high
station, would not have disfigured him. Yet the
clemency and forbearing sagacity, with which he met
rebellion by amnesties, and by limited severities after
its suppression, exhibited a new feature in the use
of kingly authority, and became a legacy of wisdom
to his successors. He preferred to correct, by the
milder punishment of pecuniary penalties, than to
mutilate the body, doom it to imprisonment, or take
away life ;'" but the introduction of this improvement
in our legislation, instead of being referred to his dis
cerning policy, or to his philanthropy, has been im
puted only to his avarice, and stigmatized as rapacity.'"
" Thus, in 1498, Henry sent commissioners to pardon the adherents
of Perkin and the Cornish leader, on their compounding for their lives by
paying fines. See the commission in 12 Rym. p. 696, &c. This mild
commutation of the death of treason, for the light punishment of a pecu
niary penalty, deserves more applause than it has received.
" It is surprising to read, in sir William Blackstone, as characterizing
all his reign, that ' his ministers, not to say the king himself, were more
industrious in hunting out prosecutions !/po« oMand forgotten penal laws,
in order to- extort money from the subject, than in framing aray new bene
ficial regulations. In short, there is hardly a statute in this reign, intro-
ducuve of a new law, or modifying the old, but what, either directly or
obliquely, tended to the emolument of the exchequer.' V. 4. p. 429.
These sentences, not very consistent, lead us to suppose, that our elegant
Commentator had forgotten this king's laws, when he framefl these cen
sures. But even Bacon himself has written Henry's Life, in many parts,
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 105
Whoever transcends his age, must expect to be cen- CHAP.
sured by those whom he excels. Yet, the nation felt
his value, and became steadily attached to his family;
and improved under their government, far more than
under any prior dynasty. His direct male line ceased
in queen Elizabeth ; but the descendants of his
daughter Margaret succeeded in the Stewarts. The
superior Brunswick fine, which has given a stablhty
to our civil and religious liberties, and advanced our
national progression and accomplishments, is also,
thro her, a branch of Henry's descendants.
more like the attorney-general of James I. than like that immortal philo
sopher, whose name is associated with all that we most respect in
English mind, and value in true science. A succinct review of Henry's
laws will shew both their objects and utilities.
SUBSTANCE OF THE LAWS OF HENRY VH.
IT is lord Verulam's just remark on Henry's legislation, that
' his laws are deep ; not vulgar : not made upon the spur of a
particular occasion, for the present ; but acts of providence of the
future : to make the estate of his people still more and more
happy ; after the manner of the legislators in ancient and heroical
times.' '
To divest his great men of that armed force which, by retaining
or enlisting large retinues under their family liveries or badges,
they had always ready for their violent purposes ; and to destroy
those means and seminaries of rebellious sedition, he pursued
Richard's system of prohibiting both the giving and receiving any
retainers ; and he caused the lords and commons to swear, not to
receive or aid any felon, or retain any man, or give liveries, signs
or tokens ; nor make or assent to any riots or unlawful assembly ;
nor impede the king's writs ; nor bail any felon,' or liveries. He
constituted, or revived in a more effective shape, a new legal tri
bunal — the Star-chamber, by which three of his cabinet ministers,
calling to their aid a bishop and two justices, were authorized to
'. P, 596. -' 6 Rolls Pari. 287, 8.
106 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK punish all misdoers in a summary way, according to the existing
V, statutes, but without being convicted in due form of law.' To this
new engine of legal power, which, from the indefinite and arbitrary
authority it assumed, became afterwards peculiarly oppressive,
was committed the repression of all giving of liveries, tokens and
retainers, and unlawful maintenance ; and of all riots and lawless
assemblies. The retaining of any of the king's tenants was also
forbidden ; * and new penal provisions were enacted against all
disturbances of the peace, by riotous and illegal assemblies, under-
servants, receivers, stewards, or bailiffs of lordships.'
Human life was taken more vigilantly under the care of the
crown ; and its safety was enhanced, and a deeper sense of its
value produced, by judicial protection. An act passed, reciting,
that murders were daily committed ; and that the people in towns,
who saw the violence, would not arrest the murderers. The
coroners were therefore commanded to execute diligently their
duty of inspecting and inquiring into all violent deaths ; and
murderers were to be arraigned and tried without delay .^ The
female sex were further guarded, by its being made felony to take
them away against their will; and by subjecting the procurers
and receivers to the same penalty.'
The negligence and misconduct of justices of the peace were
reprobated. They were ordered to have the king's proclamation
on their duties, read at the sessions four times a-year ; and all
persons aggrieved, whom they would not redress, were directed to
complain to the judge on the assize, or to the chancellor, or to
the king.' The power given by Richard to every justice, to bail,
having been abused, the concurrence of two justices was made
necessary;' and the powers of these magistrates were extended
to punish for the offence of unlawful assemblies, retainers, and
giving liveries and signs,'" and to regulate alehouses." After
stating that the king peculiarly desired the prosperity and restful-
ness of the land, a statute was made, directing, that all idle vaga
bonds, and persons living suspiciously, should be set in the stocks
for three days, and put out of the district ; and that all beggars
should be sent to their last or usual residence, or place of birth.
No cjlerk of an university was to be excused from this law, unless
Statutes of the Realm, v, 2. p. 509, 10,
' H>. 522. ' Ib, 57.3, 657. >• Ib. p. 510, u,
' B>- gl2. « Ib. 537. <• lb. 513.
'° lb. 573, .. Ib, 569,'
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 107
he could produce his chancellor's letters; nor sailor, without his CHAP,
captain's, nor any traveller, without a document from the town iv.
where he had landed.'^
All these provisions had the same object in view, that of pro
moting and maintaining the public peace; and of repressing, in
every part, and from every class of the nation, all illegal violences
and wrongs. But the great and sagacious blow that was secretly
given to the injurious power of the great, was by coinciding with
tlie temporary desire of some, which the king's foresight perceived
would continually increase, of disposing of their possessions as
they pleased. The great aristocracy of the country had been
chiefly made and upheld, by binding the immediate possessor from
alienating his land by these strong chains of the feudal entails,
with which every estate was fettered, and by the operation of
which it descended from heir to heir, little impaired, and often
accumulating. Henry's wise plan was, to let the nobility break
down their own landed power as much as they chose, by allowing
them to dispose of their possessions as they wished. This wise
plan had the merit of law giving efficiency to inclination, which
is always pleasing, and not, as it is often obliged to do, of impos
ing disagreeable command. Hence more facility was given to
the alienation of landed property : and especially by that statute
which made the proceeding, called by lawyers. Fines, that had
been invented before to counteract the effect of the feudal entails,
an effective and conclusive bar to all hostile claimants, after five
years had expired.'^ This act made future alienations of landed
property, under this form of assurance, so binding, as to give that
security to future purchasers, which encouraged them to buy ; and
commerce multiplying the means of purchase, and the necessities
of the landed interest disposing them to sell, many a large estate
became gradually divided among a number of smaller proprietors,
by whom the state was no longer endangered. The wants of the
age called for such a legislative provision ; and regal prudence
gladly adopted it.
It was an important privilege granted to the inferior classes,
of admitting the poor to sue in formi pauperis.'* This threw
open, to the most needy, the gates of legal redress again^# rich
'= Statutes of the Realm, v. 2. p, 569, 656.
" Ib. p. 547. Persons in the king's service were allowed to make
feoffments to the uses of their wills, without fines,
" lb, 578.
REIGN OF
HEN. VII.
108 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK oppressor. It was no less humane than important to the stability
V. of the throne, to enact, that no person who served the reigning
king in war, should be attainted of treason." The extortions of
sheriffs and under-sheriffs were repressed.'* That every proprietor
of land might enjoy his sport, no man was to take pheasants or
partridges on another's estate without his leave ; nor to take, even
on his own ground, eggs of hawks or swans, nor to bear certain
English hawks, nor to import foreign hawks." This may be
called the foundation of our game laws. The public morals were
attended to, in the prohibition of apprentices and artificers from'
games and diversions that were found to be connected with vice.'"
Usury was discountenanced.'" Fraudulent deeds of gift, to cheat
creditors, were made void." Delays of final redress by writs of
error, were lessened."' To keep the air of populous places pure,
butchers were forbidden to kill animals within walled towns.''-
An Act passed to encourage an English population in the Isle of
Wight,'^ in which it is mentioned, that many towns and villages
had decayed, and the fields diked and made pastures. No one
was to take more farms than one, exceeding ten marcs in rent.
To check the growing evil of pulling down towns, and laying
lands into pasture, by which, in many parts, two or three herds
men only were living, where 200 persons had pursued their lawful
labours ; it was enacted, that all owners of houses, with twenty
acres of land, should maintain the houses and buildings necessary
for tillage ;'¦* and an attempt was made to regulate the prices of
labour, which was afterwards abandoned." Mainy other provisions
were made for the general convenience. Perjury and corruption.
in officers was severely pursued. '^ The fraud of the great, or
gentry, who had covenanted with the king to find a certain num
ber of soldiers, taking full pay for a less quantity, and witliholding,
even from these their just wages, was visited by forfeiture and
imprisonment." From a policy not immediately comprehensible, ¦
as larger dealing usually increases and improves production, va
luable horses were not to be transported beyond the seas with
out a license, nor any mare above the price of 6 i. 8 d.'' Wars
becoming less suitable to the taste of the age, the heads of the
" Statutes of the Realm, v. 2. p. 568.
"Ib..'579,654. "Ib.581. '»Ib,569.
•" lb. 574. " lb. 514.. =' lb. 519.
'^ lb. 527, » Ib. 540. =< lb. 542.
='lb.637. » lb. 584,9. " lb. 549.
'' Ib. 578,
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 109
law, the masters of the rolls, clerks of chancery, the judges, barons CHAP.
of the exchequer, attorney and solicitor-general, were released IV,
from the obligation to attend them,=' The qualifications of jurors
were diminished to lo*."' But what seems to strike at the root
of all independent use of their important functions, jurors were to
be prosecuted by writs of attaint for untrue verdicts, where the
value exceeded 40 /." Some gross cases of corrupt use of their
powers, must have occasioned an enactment so dangerous. But
it was a valuable addition to the effective jurisprudence of the
nation, that similar processes might be had in actions on the case,
as in trespass and debt.'' What are technically called Actions on
the Case, present the most comprehensive means of obtaining
redress for personal and pecuniary wrongs, that the English law
can provide. To relieve his people from the grievance of their
property being taken, as formerly done, for the maintenance of the
royal household, he obtained a fixed revenue from assigned funds
for his expence, and for his wardrobe.''
Some regulations were made for the peculiar benefit of the
crown and its officers. The steward, treasurer, and comptroller
of the king's household, received authority to inquire into offences
committed in it ; and especially of conspira;cies by the king's ser
vants to murder him, his counsellors or great officers.'* The
patent grants of the yeomen and grooms of the crown, who did
not give attendance, were made revocable at the king's pleasure."
Several legal privileges were granted to those who went abroad
in the king's wars ; ^ and he was empowered to make void all
grants of land to persons who should neglect to attend him in his
wars."
HENRY'S LAWS ON TRADE AND NAVIGATION.
THE wars and factions of the great and turbulent ; the excite
ment they caused, the necessities they created, the supplies they
needed, and the aversion to their disasters, which increased as
these multiplied, made both internal and external trade more
popular, beneficial and important, in the reign of Henry VII.
As in Richard's time, we find the nation pursuing its commercial
voyages towards the north pole, as far as Iceland; soj tinder
» Statutes of the Realm, v. 2. p. 582. '" lb. 590-
" Ib. 588. 649, ^ Ib. 693,
" Pari. Rolls, 6, p. 2QQ. '* Statutes of the Realm, v. 2. p. 521.
'^ lb. 333. ' '^ ""^ 36 lb. 550. " lb. 648.
UEN. VII.
110 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK HenryVII. we find them trafficking in the Mediterranean with
V. the Venetians, in the Isle of Candia ; and maintaining commercial
Mations with Italy, Spain, Flanders, France, Germany, and the
^^¦°=^°^ Hanse Towns; all which places had agents and establishments
in England." The attention of Henry was directed to favor all
mercantile enterprise, as far as the experience and judgment of
commercial men then thought expedient ; and more laws were
made on trade during his reign, than on any other single subject.
The true principles of commerce could not indeed, at that time,
have been understood ; we ascend to these from a practical en
durance of evils, which gradually disclose to us our errors, as well
as from the enjojmient of the benefits which better systems im
part. It is a natural but a slow process of the human mind, to
discover on what rules and actions good and evil depend ; and all
the regulations and conduct of our trade, during the fifteenth and
sixteenth centuries, were but experiments aiming usually at some
immediate good, from which later times were to discern and to
deduce those true principles of commerce, which it is now the
common interest of mankind to establish universally. Our an
cestors were but exploring their ground, opening channels, and
feeling cautiously their way. They were laboring amid ignorance,
prejudice, obscurity, and obstacles of all sorts ; and they deserve
our applause for what they achieved, rather than our censure for
what they mistook, or were unable to command or to rectify.
But Henry appears to have steadily enforced that great principle
of our navigation laws, the bringing foreign produce in British
ships, which has so powerfully contributed to the superiority of our
navy. This rule has made the growth of our naval strength bear
always a due proportion to our commerce. Hence, upon the alle
gation that our navy was decaying, and our mariners idle, it was
enacted, that all Gascony wines and Thoulouse wood, should be
imported in English ships only ; and that the masters and mari
ners should be subjects of England. It was also directed, that no
natives should freight alien ships, if English ones could be had."
In his regulations of the woollen trade, there appears an anxiety
'' The parliament, in 1487, levied a capitation tax of 6s, Sd. on every
artificer who had not been born in England, or made a denizen, if a
householder; and 2s. on all who were not householders, except servants
in husbandry; and 20 s. on those who were brewers. And from every
Venetian, Italian, Genoese, Plorentine, Milanese, Catalonian, Albertine,
and Lombard merchant, broker, or factor, if he had a house three months,
40 s.; and if not a householder, 20 s. Rolls Pari. 6, p. 402.
^ Statutes of (he Realm, v. 2. p. 535.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. HI
to confine the manufacture of the raw article to English work- CHAP.
men ; hence no one was to buy wool before the middle of August, IV.
except those who made yarn or cloth of it.*" And no foreigner
was to carry any out of the country, until it had received that 11'°^ "^
J n r. HEN. Vll.
degree ot manufacture which is called barbed, rowed, and shorne. > , '
The prices of cloth and hats were limited." Thus, our silk manu
factures were encouraged, by prohibiting foreigners from bringing
in girdles, ribands, laces, called silk or Cologne silk, thrown or
vn-ought.*' The citizens of London were authorized to carry all
manner of goods to foreign markets.*' The corporation ordinance,
that no freeman of the city should go to any market or fair to sell,
that all buyers might be compelled to resort to London, was
made void.** Oppressive usury, and unlawful bargains, were dis
couraged.** Denizens were ordered to pay custom and subsidies.*"
Richard had compelled the Italian merchants to sell only in gross,
Henry allowed them to retail.*' Brokers were punished for
unlawful dealing.*'
To prevent frauds in the weight and working of the gold brought
from Venice, Florence, and Genoa, the pound was not to be less
than 12 ounces ; and the metal was not to be packed differently
from its outward show.*"
To encourage our fishermen, foreigners were forbidden to sell
salmon or other fish.'° No arts or trade were to prejudice the
merchants of the Hanse, who had, in London, their own guild
hall.'' Englishmen were allowed to resort to the marts of Flanders,
and to deal there freely, without any other exaction, than one pay
ment of ten marcs.*' And to countervail a tax levied by the
Venetians, upon wine, an equal imposition was placed on the
malmsey, which foreigners brought into England.*'
The permission to the chancellor to grant commissions of
sewers, was enlarged for 25 years." Measures and weights of
brass were sent to every chief town and borough, to become
standards," and none were to sell but by these.*" Upholders
were punished for stuffing feather beds with improper feathers.'"
Itinerant pewterers were forbidden, to prevent thieving.*' The
*» Stat, ofthe Realm, V.
2. p. 535.
^
*' Ib.533, 554.
*= Ib. 506, 664.
*' Ib. 518.
** Ib.
** lb- 515, 574.
*" Ib. 501.
" Ib. 508.
*' lb. 515-
*» Ib, 546.
*» Ib. 587.
=' Ib. 665.
'¦' lb. 639,
*' lb, 553.
** Ib. 526.
** lb. 551,
570.
" Ib, 582,
" Ib, 651.
KEIGN OF
HEN, VII.
112 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK rule of the river Thames, from Staines to Yenlade, was given to
V. the lord mayor.'"
The coin became an object of his attention ; a new coinage was
circulated. The forging of foreign money, that was current in
the kingdom, was made treason.*" It was deemed of great im
portance to keep the precious metals forcibly in the country ; few
being then aware, that bullion is a flowing commodity of trade,
like any other article in demand ; and, therefore, money was
ordered not to be carried out of the country for goods brought
into it."" No one was to pay to foreigners, by way of exchange,
any gold, coin, plate or bullion." And by a subsequent law, the
exportation of these was limited to the small sum of six shillings
and eight pence."'
To secure the payment of the custom duties, merchants were
not to carry goods from one port to another, without a certificate
from the customs where the goods had been first entered."'
*' Stat, ofthe Realm, v. 2. p. 139. *" Ib. 541.
"° lb. 517. "' lb. 546. <" Ib. 651.
"' Ib, 516.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES, 113
HISTORYOP ENGLAND.
BOOK VI.
THE LITERARY HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP. L
Review of the Causes of the Decline of Literature before the
Norman Conquest.
1 HE general intellectual superiority of modern literarv
Europe over the ancient world, has originated from
the new literature, and new sources of knowlege
and improvement, which began to be cultivated
after the tenth century. In England, the Norman
Conquest forms that middle point where the shade
begins to melt into light ; every century that suc
ceeded displayed new beams of the advancing sun ;
the dark ages of Europe disappeared, and all its
continent became gradually and permanently en
lightened. But to appreciate justly the illumination we enjoy,
and to explore satisfactorily its causes, it will be
useful to consider the actual state of the literature of
the Roman empire, when our Gothic ancestors over
whelmed it, and the failure of the efforts which they
made to revive it. In this review, we shall seie that
when the Roman and Grecian mind ceased to be
the ruling mind of the world, its incurable defects,
and the very improvements which it had imparted,
had made it necessary to the further progress of
mankind, that their intellect should be led into new
Vol, IV, I
HISTOaYOFENGLAND.
114 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK paths of thought, to new branches of knowlege, to
_^ new modes of expression, new feelings, new man-
LiTERARv ners, and new subjects, and therefore that the ex
clusive sovereignty of the literature of Rome should
expire, as well as its political empire. The dark
ages of Europe will then appear to have been an
awful but salutary period ; in which the Gothic
mind was prepared to emerge into literary activity
under the light and governance of a new and original
genius, seeking new regions, appearing in new cos
tumes, exploring new mines of knowlege, exercising
itself in new chatinels of thought, and displaying
a sensibility, a strength, a persevering industry,
and an universality, which no preceding age had
witnessed. England had the distinction of contri
buting her full proportion to this noble result ; and it
will be a pleasing subject of our inquiries, to trace
the steps and to expose the causes of her intellectual
progress. The middle ages, extending from the fifth century
theRoraan to the fifteenth, present a gloomy period to our
imaginations — an interval of desolation and io-no-
ranee — so often mentioned and regretted as to have
become almost proverbial In the history of our lite
rature. But our ancestors, as well as the other
Gothic tribes, were rather its victims than its cause :
they came into the Roman world with minds emu
lous for personal distinction ; they sought this by
war, while warfare only would give it, and they
would have courted reputation from the pen as zea
lously as from the sword, if the pen would have
conferred it. If the love and cultivation of letters
had been as vigorous and as honorable at Rome in
the fourth and fifth centuries, as they were in Greece
Decline of
letters in
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES, 115
when the Romans mastered Corinth, we cannot rea- chap.
sonably doubt that the Gothic barbarians would have _^
been captivated by the charms of literature, and decline
have willingly co-operated with the conquered to have °ur"ee-*
cherished and enlarged it. So Greece, uncultured, poke the
imbibed and improved the literature of Egypt; so the
rude conquerors from the Tiber, polished themselves
from the improvements ofthe Grecian mind. But
when the Ostro Goths, Heruli and Lombards in
vaded Italy, and the Anglo-Saxons, England, they
found the Roman literature In a wretched and decay
ing state. Admirable as It once had been, the master-
intellects who had adorned it, and whose genius
and compositions have given to it those fascinations
which still delight our taste, and defy, not our compe
tition, but, perhaps our superiority, had never been
very numerous, and had not been replaced.
They had created all the cultivation of mind which
their labors could impart. They were loved, read,
remembered and praised ; but no emulation of their
works, their genius or their taste, accompanied the
study of their immortal remains. They were still
solitary stars amid a dreary and vast firmament of
life, that was employing itself in unimproving and
uncongenial pursuits. Roman literature had not con
tinued its own beauty and utility; it had sunk Into in
efficiency, frivolity, luxury, and unintellectual habits;
and to its degeneracy and decrepitude must be im
puted that lamented eclipse of mind and learning,
which involved our ancestors in that night of igno
rance and vacuity for which they are reproached.
But this apparent evil was their misfortune, not their
fault. They met with no teachers to inform them ;
no living examples to imitate ; no intellectual merit
I 2
116 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK around them to respect or to imbibe ; and it was not
VI- unnatural that they should neglect or despise what
LiTERAEv no one near them either valued or pursued. The
HisTORYOF j^Qj.g ^g consider all the results which ensued from
ENGLAND. - ...¦
this neglect, the more abundant reasons we shall
perceive to rejoice that it occurred. If it had not
taken place, our present treasures and improvements
could not have been attained.
The period of the literary excellence ofthe Romans
had been as brief as sudden. It came upon them like
a flood, from their conquest of Greece; ^ but it passed
as rapidly away. From Ennius to Quintilian, it lasted
little more than three centuries, and then declined with
greater celerity than it had improved. All that is most
valuable in Roman authors, was produced before the
middle ofthe second century of our sera; from that
time the empire became more and more barren of
intellectual harvests : literature not only degenerated
in kind, but fell into a low estimation ; and tho its
effects were felt in the general education, yet it was
peculiarly cultivated by few. So steadily continuous
was the decay, that if the Barbarians had not broken
up the empire, letters, from the unceasing operation
of the debilitating causes that v/ere in action, would
have sunk into dotage and inanity: and the great
classics whom we now admire and study, would have
been the distant beauties of a long-past antiquity to
them, as they are now to ourselves.
' In Cicero's Oration for Archias, and in his dialogues de Senectute
and de Amicitia, which are so valuable for the traits they have preserved
of some of the great men of Rome, we have his sentiments on the intro
duction of literature into Rome from Greece. Cato's learning Greek in
his old age, shews the eagerness with which the Romans applied to it.
But even Cicero's studies and works imply how new and how rare intel
lectual cultivation was to the Romans in bis days, tho they had then
achieved the establishment of their military empire over the world.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 117
Some of the more intellectual of the Romans them- chap.
selves perceived, lamented, and pointed out the causes ^-
of the decline, in the beginning ofthe second century, decline
In the Dialogue on Oratory, ascribed by some to tur"be*"
Tacitus, by others to Quintilian, we find their literary ^°'«-^ ^"=
deterioration acknowleged, and traced to their social conquest.
degeneracy: " Who is ignorant that eloquence and Ascribed^
the other polite arts have decayed from their ancient by the
glory, not from a dearth of men, but from the dissi- to their
pation of our youth, the neffliarence of parents, the ™°''^' ^^'
7 ./ ' o a 1 ' ffeneracy.
ignorance of teachers, and the oblivion of ancient
manners ? These evils, first originating in the capital,
spread thro Italy, and now overflow all our provinces."^
The causes here alluded to are visibly resolvable into
the unintellectual taste of the Roman people, which
continued unchanged, till the Gothic irruptions and
their consequences brought a new mental and literary
impulse on the European mind.
In the next century, we have the corruption of the
Roman genius, and the scarcity of its valuable pro
duce, exposed and regretted by Longinus. He also
traces the evil to moral causes; to those which, in all
ages, are the great preventers of human improvement
in mind as well as in virtue. In addition to the loss of
liberty, he says, " Avarice, that disease of which
the whole world is sick beyond a cure, aided by
VOLUPTUOUSNESS, holds us fast in chains of thral-
" Dial.de Orat. s. 28. — He details the progress of a Roman education
in his day. The boy was first committed to a Greek maid-servant, then
to some of the vilest of the slaves ; and with their tales and errors his
young mind was filled. Neither the domestics, nor even his own parents,
cared what they did before him, but accustomed him to voluptuousness
and licentiousness. Impudence soon followed, and a contempt both of
others and of himself; and a passion for players, gladiators, and horses,
thus became the prevailing vice of the city and age. Ib. s. 29. The
disgusting state of Roman manners, as implied by Petronius, and satirized
by Juvenal and Lucian, is ap expressive commentary on such an education.
I3
HISTORYOFENGLAND.
lia HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK dom; or rather, overwhelms life itself, as well as all
VI that live, in the depths of misery: for, love of money
LITERARY is the disease which renders us most abject ; and love
of pleasure, is that which renders us most corrupt."^
Here we find the true source of human deterioration.
When the love of sensual enjoyment, and the pursuit
of its pecuniary means, become the absorbing incli
nations of society, all the vigor and powers of the
mind, arid all the sensibilities of the heart, wither and
disappear. The continuing observations of Longinus
illustrate his complaint with all the force of his vivid
and elevated style.* The historian of the following
age, his own work an example ofthe literary decline,
describes the Romans as forsaking all literary study,
and cultivating instead, singing, music, and panto
mime. The lower sorts passed their nights at dice,
or in taverns, or at theatrical indecencies; and the
great mass of all classes, wasted their time in criticis
ing horse-races and charioteers. Their emulation lay
in contending who should have the loftiest cars, or
the most gorgeous apparel, deformed, from their bad
taste, with large figures of animals; or In haunting
the childless rich, in hope of being named the heir.*
We cannot read his picture of the state of literature
in the fourth century, without perceiving that the
^ Longinus, mpi i>|.ss. s. 44. I cite the English from Dr. Smith's spir
rited translation, pp. 176. 178.^ — Fabricius recapitulates the many writings
of his that we have lost, in his Bib. Grajca, v. 4. p. 443-448.
' ' When once such corruption infects an age, it gradually spreads and
becomes universal. The faculties of the soul will then grow stupid; their
spirit will be lost, and good sense and genius must lie in ruins, when the
care and study of man is engaged about the mortal, the worthless part of
himself, and he has ceased to cultivate virtue, and polish his nobler part,
the soul.' Longin.ib. The satire of Juvenal has been called coarse; and
that of Horace refined : The real difference was, that the manners of
Rome in the days of Horace, were almost virtue in comparison with that
animaljzing depravity which degraded the time of Juvenal.
' Ainniianus Marcellinus, 1. 14. c. 6.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 119
Gothic sword was not wanted to erase it from the CIIAP.
Roman mind.® So dead to intellectual excitement ^'
had this degraded people by the sixth century be- decline
come, that they defrauded the public teachers of their .^.^j^j. b^-
stipends for the education of vouth, while they were ^°'^^ '"'^
'^ , , . NORMAN
lavish of the revenues on theatrical Tepresentations : conquest.
and it was a Goth who was so struck with the ab- "
surdity, as to remark and to censure it, and to restore
to the national instructors their just compensations,'^
This deterioration is usually ascribed to the loss
of the Roman liberties; but their departure was
rather the consequence than the cause of the Romarl
vices. The freedom of Rome fell with her virtue and
moral habits. What the patricians were, who led
her armies to those victories which established her
republic, we may infer from the fact, that one of her
greatest conquerors in Africa, before Scipio, tho
a patrician of high rank, possessed but seven acres
of land for the support of his family.^ In this state,
luxury was impossible and unvalued ; and the mind
was invigorated by its temperate food. But when
expensive habits made riches essential, both body
^ He says, ' The few houses before celebrated for serious studies, now
abound with the sports of a base sloth, resounding vocal echoes,'and the
tinkling of lutes. For a philosopher, there is now a singer; and in the
place of the orator, is the teacher of ludicrous arts. The libraries are
shut, like sepulchres, for everj hydraulic organs "are the fashion instead,
and lyres as large as chariots, and the instruments of the actors gesticu
lations. The followers of the liberal arts are expelled from the city
without mercy, while the mimje and three thousand dancers are retained
in their room,' Amm, Marcel, 1. 14. c. 6. p. 18-24.
' See Athalaric's Letter, Cassiod. Ep. 1. 9, ep.;2l."p. 253,
* This was Atilius Regulus. He ploughed his little farm himself, till
he was called to head the Roman army. While fighting the Carthagi
nians, his bailiff died, and he wrote to the senate, praying it to appoint
him a successor, that he might return and take care of his patrimony ;
which he described as consisting of seven acres, at Papinia; near the city;
lest., from its lying vacant, he should be disabled from maintaining his
wife and children, Va\. Max, 1. 4. c. 6. p. 389.
I4
HISTORY ENGLAND,
120 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK and spirit became enervated : and then, imperial des-
^^- pptism, by closing those avenues of distinction and
LITERARY exertion which connect personal vanity and ambition
°^ with intellectual exercise and improvement, contri
buted to increase the literary degradation ofthe em
pire,* Mental eminence giving no substantial bene
fits, but fixing on its possessor the jealous eye of a
military despot, ceased to be an object of pursuit.
The love of distinction, which clings so close to the
human heart, sought its gratification in the safer but
degrading competition of accumulating wealth and
expensive luxury, or voluntarily debased and sup
pressed its own energies in sensuality and sloth.®
Even in Constantinople, which the Goths never
subdued, literature lingered in a wretched state, from
the fourth century to the fifteenth, aflfording some
evidence of the condition to which it would have
hastened in the West, if Alaric and Odoacer had
never conquered the Capitol, and no Lombards had
descended from the Alps.
Hence when the Goths told their queen that letters
had no connexion with courage, and that boys ac
customed to preceptors rods, would never learn to
face the sword and the spear ; '° the sentiment was
less the effusion of their barbarism than of their ex-
° It is finely said by Longinus, ' Liberty produces noble sentiments in
men of genius. It invigorates their hopes, excites an honorable emulation,
and inspires an ambition and thirst of excelling.' s. 44. p. 173.
" The history of Rome, from Marius to Domitian, proves the insepa
rable connection between private virtue and political liberty. The vices
of Rome made it impossible for its freedom to continue, "rhe more pro
fligate a nation becomes, the m(3re tyrannical its government must be, or
the society could not exist. If the Roman gentlemen have been truly
drawn by the arbiter elegantiarum, Nero and Caligula were more suitable
emperors for them than Titus or the Antonines. A nation of wild beasts
could be governed only by a wild beast — wickedness by wickedness.
'° Procopius has transmitted to us this circumstance. Goth, Hist. 1, I.
p. 144. ed. Grot,
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES, 121
perience. The Roman civilization having become a chap.
debasing effeminacy, it is not surprising that our rude ^-
forefathers confounded the principle with its per- decline
version, the corrupt depravation with the original °^p."bj*"
excellence." Even the eclogues of Virgil, who had ^ore the
the finest taste of all the ancient men of letters, are
evidence of the incurable vice that was debasing the
Roman mind of all classes ; of the peasants, among
whom it is personified ; and of the great men of the
Capitol, to whom the descriptions and allusions are
addressed, and for whose pleasure and approbation
they were written.
The Gothic nations, although ignorant, were not Gothic
averse to the cultivation of letters. Their Great u^'^°i"?,g°'
Theodoric, the Ostro-Gothic sovereign of Italy, ear- tp acquire
nestly encouraged them, and tried, through his mi
nister Cassiodorus, to animate the Italians to the love
of study .'^ His daughter Amalasonta favored them ; "
the prince, Athalaric, her son, revived the public
schools of literature at Rome;*" and Theodat, the
" The contempt into which the Roman name had sunk, from the dege"
neracy ofthe people, is forcibly implied by the sentiment of Luithprandj
in the tenth century. He says, ' We Lombards disdained them, and we
put upon our enemies no other contumely, than to say, Thou Roman ! '
" The king, in many of his epistles composed by Cassiodorus, ex
presses his regard for literature. He tells Eugenius, that he has chosen
him to the questura, " because he was laudably following the studies
of literature, that the dignity of letters might become the reward of his
honorable labour." Ep, 12. p. 14. He informs the senate, that he has
raised a person to the honor of magistracy who was resplendent with
literary tuition, that he might wear dignity in name as he possessed it in
merit. Ep. 13. p. 15- Tor the same reason, he appointed another to be
the rector decuriarum. Ep. 21, p, 136.
" She was a woman of superior mind. — She restored to the children
of Boethius and Symmachus their fathers possessions ; and educated her
son in letters, tho her countrymen opposed it. Procopius Goth. Hist.
]. 1. p. 143. She told the senate of Rome, that letters adorned human
nature. 1. 10. ep. 3. p. 261,
'¦• His edict for this purpose states, that it was infamous that any thing
should be taken from the teachers of youth, who should rather be excited
to their glorious studies. He proceeds to praise grammar, music and
eloquence. 1. 9. ep. 21, p. 252,
HISTORYOFENGLAND.
122 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK next Gothic sovereign, learnt Greek and Latin, and
_^ was fond of Plato,'^ Even the ruder Lombards, who
LITERARY succeeded them in the sovereignty of Italy, became
at last susceptible of the influence of literature ; for a
grammarian is mentioned about 700, whom the Lom
bard king so much loved, as to give him a staff
adorned with gold and silver;'® and when Charle
magne attacked their kingdom, he found a teacher
at Pisa, from whom he derived his first knowlege of
grammar,"^ and another man of letters, to whom we
are indebted for the history of the Lombard nation.'®
We may add, that if the Grecian emperors had left
either the Goths or Lombards, and especially the
former, to possess Italy, undisturbed and undisputed,
literature would soon have been raised to a dignified
eminence and increasing popularity. But as it was
beginning to flourish under the Gothic kings, Jus
tinian, in 536, directed that invasion under Belisa-
rius, on which, for seventeen years, the Goths and
Greeks fought furiously for the possession of Italy,
to its great misery and desolation. The Gothic em
pire was overthrown, and Narses continued the sub
jection of the country to the Grecian empire, till the
Lombards, in 568, were tempted or invited to esta-
'= Procopius Goth. Hist. 1, 1. p, 145. 154. On this part ofthe Gothic
History, Tiraboschi, and his pleasing abbreviator, the abbate Lorenzo
Zenoni, in their Storia della Litteratura Italiana, may be advantageously
consulted. "= Paul. Diac. de Gest. Langob. 1. 6. c. 7. Muratori intimates, that the
author remarks this as if a notable, and, therefore, rare thing. Ant. Ital.
p, 810. The truth is, that Paulus particularizes him, because he was the
uncle of his own preceptor. Some time before this rewarded grammarian,
the Lombards had an historian named Secundus. Paul, Diac. I.4. 0,42.
and 1. 3. c, 30,
" Muratori,
" This was Paulus Diaconus, whose History has survived to us. From
his work we derive almost all that we know of the early transactions of
this people, as the more ancient narrative of Secundus has perished.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. VT/^^ ""'''^ "
bllsh themselves in it. Forty years of contin^9^j^jd4ili¥]^
warfare was waged by the Greeks against them ; and
this protracted effort of the ambition of the eastern decline
empire, as well as subsequent invasions from the tur"be-
Franks, compelled the Lombards for a long time to i'ore the
make war instead of learning their national pursuit, conquest,
But these same Lombards were the persons who ac-. ' "
tually began the restoration of learning in the west of
Europe, and soon outdid their Grecian contemporaries.
So far was the Gothic spirit from being unconge
nial with intellectual improvement, or adverse to it,
that in Spain, in France, in Italy, and elsewhere, as
soon as their barbaric conquerors were settled in
their acquisitions, and the pressure of external hosti
lities against them was relaxed, they began to culti
vate literature, in every region. In our own islands
their readiness to improve was conspicuous. Ireland,
though at that time supposed to be the wildest
region of the West, yet was so teachable and so
emulous of instruction, that in the seventh and eighth
centuries she was an example to all Europe for the
literary attainments of her natives, and even assisted,
under her Columbanus, to support them in Italy.'"
Tbe Anglo-Saxons as eagerly imbibed the lessons of
the two monks sent from Rome to preside over their
clergy, studied Greek literature under their instruc
tions, and furnished a Bede and an Alcuin to be the
literary benefactors of Europe ! ¦^" It was not there
's Bede, 1. 3. c. 28, and Usher, Vet. Ep. Hiber. Sylloge. Dubl. 1632.
Columbanus, in 612, obtained permission from the Lombard king to found
the celebrated abbey of Bobbio, after having estabUshed some in France.
great taSK or insirucung xrauue uiiu xiuty, "a? v^iau^.i^.^ .-^ — .— , -¦--
Commentary on the Galatians is printed in 1 Biblioth. Magna Patr.
p. 794; and whose work on St. Matthew, is in MS. in the Briiish Museum,
literary
historyof ENGLAND,
124 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK fore the mental inaptitude or aversion of our fore-
_^ fathers to study, which kept them illiterate.
But altho the Gothic nations would have eagerly
studied literature, if they had found it in a flourishing
or valuable state, or if they had enjoyed, like the
Romans in Greece, a peaceful occupation ofthe coun
tries they invaded, yet it was happy for mankind that
the intellectual decline ofthe Roman world was such,
as to discourage and prevent their cultivation of that
learning, which had lost all its primeval vigor and
social utility. The Grecian and Roman literature had
become not only ineffective to human improvement,
but was in many of its compositions so objectionable,
in some of its objects so erroneous, and had been so
perverted, as to be deteriorating and impeding the
healthful progress of the human mind. I feel that
I am treading on dangerous ground, when I speak of
the defects and evil consequences of that classical lite
rature, which we are educated to revere in our youth,
and to panegyricise ever afterwards. But the cha
racter of this work is meant to be a dispassionate in
dependence of thought; a temperate freedom of
inquiry : and though I may often fail to convince,
and no doubt shall occasionally err, I hope my re
marks will be read with that candor with which I will
endeavor to express them.
The clas- "y^^g ij^ye been indebted to the Greeks and Romans
raturehad for SO large a part of our intellectual attainments,
becomein- ^hat we rarely allow ourselves to consider their works
competent •'
to improve
the world. Bib, Reg. 2. c. lO. and 4. c. 8, Another was Duncant, whose Commen
tary on Martianus Capella, addressed to his pupils at Rheims, is in MS.
in the same library. Bib. Reg. 15. A. 32. And see Heric's letter, in 876,
to Charles the Bald, and Joannes Erigena's letter, in 3 Anglo-Sax. p. 392,
4th ed. In an ancient catalogue in the monastery at Pavia, written in
the loth century, is a book in Irish, under the head of ' Books given
by Dungal precipuus Scotorura,' Murat. Ant, Ital. 1. p. 821,
OF LITERA
TURE BE
FORE THE
NORMAN
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 125
in any other light than their utility ; and indeed they CHAP.
have conduced so much to the mental improvement ^-
of mankind, that our gratitude can hardly exagge- decline
rate the benefaction. But human genius is usually
more adapted to the age in which it appears, than to
the times that succeed ; its effusions create improve- conquest,
ments around it, which diminish its own future value.
New genius, with new materials and new views, and
acting in new directions, is then wanted. This ap
pears, and benefits,- and becomes obsolete in its turn,
from the good which it has imparted. Thus Orpheus,
Homer, Pindar, Socrates, and Plato, successively
arose for the advantage of mankind. In some de
gree the creatures of the age they adorned, they
wrote for its necessities, its taste, and its approbation.
Each of them left society better for his appearance,
and therefore requiring other teachers to carry on its
progression.*' But when, from political or moral
changes, the manners and spirit of the succeeding
ages prove unfavorable to the evolution of fresh
talent, the progress of mind becomes stationary, and
soon, receiving no impulse to advance by the rise of
further benefactors, the cultivation that has been
produced begins then to retrograde and decline,
from the operation of its own imperfections, and from
the adverse circumstances with which it is sur
rounded. The Grecian and Roman literature was an immense
accession to the intellectual world — and allied taste
" The general cultivation of the Grecian mind, as far as their poets
could improve it, may be inferred from the intimation of Seneca, that
there were slaves so familiar with the revered poetry of Greece, that one
was a master of Homer ; another of Hesiod ; and nine, ofthe lyric writers ;
all purchased_by one affluent Roman (Ep. 17.) and retained in his family.
(Ep. 27.) Such men could hardly live in any household without difiiising
much of their own taste and information around them.
HISTORYOF
ENGLAND.
126 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK and judgment, true history, and moral uses, for ever
^^' with it.** When I read the monstrous productions
LITERARY of the Hludu lltcraturc ; the inflated exaggerations
of the Persian, and the absurd dreams of the Chal
dean, and other Easterns, and contemplate the con
fusing obscurity and scanty mind of the Egyptian
hieroglyphics, I feel that, with all their imperfec
tions, we can hardly estimate on this comparison, the
Greek and Roman classics too highly. But in re
collecting their improvements, we must not forget
our own. In acknowleging their vast merit, as we
ought, with a filial gratitude, we must neither pal
liate nor deny their visible deficiencies, nor be blind
to the justice of their now receiving a subordinate
position — always to be studied — always to be re
membered — frequently to be consulted — but never
to be made again the magistra vitae, or the exclusive
acquisition. Both the Grecian and the Roman com
positions have, in all their parts, successively benefited
the world ; but both had some peculiar tendencies,
which, though beneficial in their first appearance,
yet afterwards became mischievous. These, unfor
tunately, obtained the ascendency in education and
popular favor, as the moral and political state of the
empire declined. They increased the degeneracy
which fostered them ; till literature itself was ruined
"^ One of the completest and. most favorable instances of a mind
formed almost entirely from the Classics, is that of the celebrated Mon
taigne. 'His Essays are, usually, ingenious pieces of patchwork, selected
and put together by a sound and large intellect; from Plutarch, Cicero,
Seneca, Horace, and Lucretius, He quotes them as often as the pedant
in Clarissa, and not only transplants their best thoughts avowedly into
his Essays, but where their names are not explicitly referred to, his ideas
may be frequently traced to their remains. His general merit shews
that of his intellectual education. But he has cropped their flowers, and
left their weeds untouched ; and yet, in his own deficiencies, makes us
feel the vastly superior richness ofthe intellectual harvests, which both his
countrymen and England have raised since he lived.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 127
by their operation, and became pernicious to human CIIAP.
reason, and unworthy of its pursuit. These cor- ^
rupting agents were, the Grecian sophistry and the decline
Roman rhetoric. of litera
ture BE-
When Socrates diverted the Athenian mind from tore the
the study of astronomy and natural philosophy, to conquest.
moral and political disputation, he seemed to be con- ^3^i^^i
ferring a benefit upon his species ; and if his authority philosophy
and example had only given to ethics and polity a fair ° ^^^'^ '
proportion of philosophical discussion, the boon which
he imparted would have been great. But Socrates
loved victory as well as truth ; he sought often to con
fute rather than to instruct; a subtle distinction was
as valuable in his eyes, as a sound judgment : he pre
ferred debate to observation, logic to knowledge.*'
Hence, without perhaps fully intending it, he excited
in the Athenian, and thro that, in the Grecian mind,
a love and practice of sophistical ingenuity, which,
abandoning the patient study of nature, and the calm
decisions of steady judgment, sought only to shine in
argument and controversy. His acute method of con
futing his adversary, was refined upon with increased
effect by Plato;** and Aristotle, transcending both in
" Socrates has been delineated by three contemporaries :— -Aristo
phanes, Plato, and Xenophon, and by all dramatically. Each has pur
sued his own taste in exhibiting the conversation of the philosopher.
The satirizing comedian has drawn him a mere Sophist ; his dialectic
disciple, Plato, has exhibited him arguing and refining in a way tbat
approaches much nearer to sophistry than the simpler Xenophon has
chosen to pourtray. I doubt if we have the real Socrates from either,
unless we take his features from all. Indeed, when we consider that
Cicero deduces the Academical Sect, always debating and never deciding,
from Socrates — profecta 4- Socrale, repetita ab Arcesila, confirmata k
Cafneade (De Nat. Deor. 1. l. p. 14.) I cannot but feel, that if Aristo
phanes caricatured, yet that he saw justly the tendency of the mental
Imbit which Socrates was practising. Lucian also treats Socrates with
disrespect; and Maxim Tyrius, in four discourses, strives hard to justify
him. '* It is impossible to reconcile the ' AiriiiA.ny.mviJ,ata. of Xenophon, which
128 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK logical acuteness, invented systems and forms of in-
_^ tellectual debate, which have given weapons to the
subtilizing talents of every sect. His works were long
buried, but his spirit was in the world, and filled
Greece with wranglers, with contending systems, and
everlasting controversy. An electrical activity became
the character of the Grecian mind; but it was restless
ness, without produce. Agitated by eternal debate,
never ending but in scepticism that mocked all moral
principle, or in a keener resolution to resume the
weapon and refight the battle; the Grecian lost the
tact for the appreciation of either moral or physical
truth, and both the ability and the wish to acquire it.**
The floating knowlege of his day, that preceding
ages had acquired, he imbibed as it passed, for its
showy or offensive utility; but he added nothing to
its amount ; and judgment was dispersed in dispu
tatious pertinacity. Personal distinction by argument
becoming the actuating principle of all, and the defeat
of a competitor the favorite object, the mental evil
was prolific of moral disorder; and falsehood, faith
lessness, and profligacy, became the characteristics of
a Grecian.*"
consists ofthe conversations of Socrates, with the works of Plato, which
are all dialogues of the same revered sage, without supposing either that
Plato has remembered and imitated his master's most artful manner of
disputing, or has refined upon it to exhibit his own genius. When I see
in Xenophon, Socrates condescending to teach a courtezan how to prac
tise her trade, I cannot but think that he loved a reputation for ingenuity
full as much as moral utility.
" The three hundred opinions on happiness which the Grecian schools
maintained, are a sufficient elucidation of their love of useless and endless
disputation. Perhaps the best account, in the fewest words, of the
absurd and contradictory opinions of the Greek philosophers, even the
greatest, ou the awful subject of the Deity ; and of their gross self-incon
sistencies, even of Aristotle ; is in the sketch drawn by Velleius, in Cicero's
de Nut, Deorum. These opinions he truly calls, Non philosophorum
judicia sed delirantium somnia, 1. 1, p. 32. Glasg. ed.
"^ Lucian felt the diversity of the Grecian philosophic sects, and their
NORMAN
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 129
When Rome aspired to prevail in the empire of CHAP.
letters, she certainly introduced into them a masculine ^'
decision and steadiness of thought, and a solidity of decline
judgment, which promised to correct the volatility ?ure^be-
and perversions ofthe Grecian mind. In Cicero and tore the
Seneca, in Tacitus and Quintilian, a good sense, a
moral wisdom, a sound thoughtfulness appear, which
are rarely tp be found so continuous, and so little
mixed with verbosity and absurdity, in any Grecian
writers. But unfortunately, from the nature of the
civil institutions of Rome, oratory became the fashion
able object of all Roman education. It was indeed, at
first, oratory formed on the largest acquisition of
knowlege, that books, instructors, or personal labor,
could supply;*^ it was oratory actuated by the noblest
impulses that a free state could create, or a cultivated
mind obey.*^ But when her republic fell, and her
morals vanished, the orator dwindled to the mere
rhetorician ; the verbal diction became the subject of
general pursuit, not the full-fed mind ; the trick and
the deceit, not conviction and honorable persuasion.
The effects were most pernicious. Rhetoric, like so
phistry, separated from real principle, is a selfish com
batant, who aims at personal display, and prefers
victory to justice; it deludes both its author and his
disputes and contradictory lives, to be so absurd, that he is perpetually
satirizing them, Maximus Tyrius, who lived about the time of the Anto
nines, says emphatically — ' If you place philosophy in words and names
and artifices of phrase; in argument, contention, and sophisms; it is not
difficult to find a master. All things with us are full of sophists. This is
a flourishing profession, and manifest to every one.' Dissert. 37. ed.
Heins. p. 218.
'¦" Cicero, in his Treatise de Oratore, is emphatic on this point. Quin
tilian urges the acquisition of logic, ethics, and natural philosophy, law
and history, music and geometry. 1. 12. and 1. 1.
=* Quintilian begins his twelfth book with proving, that virtue is indis
pensable to the orator. He calls it the quality by which we approach
nearest to the nature of Deity itself, 1. 12. c. 2.
Vol. IV. K
HISTORYOFENGLAND.
1.10 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK audience; it enervates thejudgment which uses it, and
_^ spoils the mind accustomed to hear it. Aiming to over-
LiTERARY power the reason, by exciting the sympathy, it aban
dons knowlege for phrase, sense for sound, and truth
for gesture, declamation, and delusion. In Rome, it
delighted in the most lacerating invective."'"' But when
the Grecian sophistry, and its unprincipled spirit,
became combined with the Roman modes and style
of oratory, the perversion of the human mind reached
its height. Controversy became the delight of the
studious; Pyrrhonism corrupted the philosopher; and
cavil and declamation characterized their literature.^"
'^ Luther, Salraasiug, Milton, Scheoppius, and the literati of the six
teenth century, have been strongly and justly censured for the virulence
and asperity they expressed towards their opponents. But their teachers
were the classical orators. This defamatory eloquence may claim an
ancestry as high and as respectable as Cicero himself, the most polite of
the Roman orators and writers ! His philippics against Verres, and
Antony, and Catihne, almost exhaust the stores of vituperative abuse.
But it was so common a weapon of Roman oratory, that even in his ora
tion against Piso, we have these phrases addressed to him — ' Thou beast !
thou fury! thou hangman! thou lump of mud ! thy foetid mouth ! thou
stupid madman! thou gibbet thief! this cattle! this putrid flesh! that
rotten corpse ! iniquity in the very folds of his forehead ! thou foulest and
most inhuman monster ! that abject and but half alive man ! I will argue
with him as with a thief, a sacrilegious robber and a cut-throat. Thou
epicurean from the stye, not from the school ! This vulture of his pro
vince ! the goi'ging glutton, born for his belly. Ye twin whirlpools and
rocks of the republic ! You bear the everlasting marks of the most filthy
turpitude — thou wickedness itself! thou pestilence! thou contamination!
thou niannikin of clay and mud ! thou darkness ! thou dirt ! thou pollu
tion ! ' &c. These are only the personal apostrophes and epithets. The
detailed and elaborate abuse, all spoken to the person's face, occupies
forty-one copious sections of oratorial declamation, contrasted only with
the most lavish egotism on himself. And such was Roman taste, that a
public audience could hear all this, as well as a public speaker express it,
and that speaker the polished Cicero, the writer of his gentlemanly
' Offices,' or moral duties. Can we wonder that such orations of such
men have seduced others to an imitation ; or that they should injure the
moral taste of our public addresses, whether from the bar, the pulpit or
the hustings, or in the senate. Human genius has yet to give a specimen
of impressive oratory, disdaining to vituperate.
* Indeed how could it be otherwise, in an age when the followers of
Epicurus were inculcating atheism and materialism, and discouraging the
fetudy of the sciences? — when those of Aristippus were urging sensual
pleasures to be the summum bonum — when those of Pyri'ho doubled the
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 131
So inveterate was the intellectual mischief, that even CHAP,
the genius of Christianity, which condemned it, sank ^-
into its trammels; and a dogmatical, passionate, rhe- decline
torlcal, and polemical theology appeared in Greece, xuk"be-'
which ruined its iudgment and feeling, repeatedly ^o^-^ the
1- -11 11 111 T1 • NORMAN
stained its streets with human blood, and has in- conquest.
fected religious discussions ever since. We cannot ' " '
read the works of the Greek fathers, and of their con
temporary Pagan philosophers, and many Latin con
troversialists, without perceiving that we are not con
versing with men of sound judgment, expansive
knowlege, moral feeling, or elevated intellect — but,
for the most part, with the rhetor and the sophist ;
with verbose and declamatory egotists ; with men
fertile to envy, in the concatenation of words, and in
the tactics of phrase ; with intellectual gladiators and
theatrical exhibitors, to whom debate was the most
existence of every thing — and the Academics disputed equally on both
sides of every question, this day arguing in favor of justice, and the next
day against it, as Carneades did even before Cato — when the Peripatetics
used in their syllogistic organum, the means of eternal debate — when the
Stoics contended against all — and the Eclectics increased the Babel con
fusion of philosophy, by struggling to unite all — And especially, when we
find from Quintilian, that these disputants seemed bound to their dif
ferent sects by a sort of religious obligation, and thought themselves
guilty of something criminal if they deserted the persuasion which they
had once embraced.' Inst. 1. 12. c. 2.
" Oil the religious and civil factions of Constantinople, and the Gre
cian hierarchy, see Gibbon's History, in many places. Under the reign
of Anastasius, the Grecians, who had treacherously concealed stones and
daggers under baskets of fruit, massacred at a solemn festival, 3000 of
their Blue adversaries. The Blues retaliated bitterly. In the Nika
sedition, in the reign of Justinian, in which both factions engaged, the
Blues signalized the fury of their repentance ; and it is computed that
above 30,000 persons were slain in the merciless and promiscuous carnage
of the day. Gibbon Hist, u. 40. v 4. pp. 61. 69. Mr, Gibbon loves to
describe the controversies and conflicts of the Grecian clergy. His
satirical portrait is, in one respect, an accession to the cause of human
welfare ; for tho it is but what all parties and ages have practised, yet
literary censure, and the feeling that corresponds with it, may in time
make such conduct too odious to be reacted.
HISTORYOFENGLAND. Effects of
132 -HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK felicitating employment, and popular applause a ne-
^^' cessary sustenance.'*
LITERARY Thc rhetorlcal spirit gave a character of declama
tion to all the literature of Greece and Rome, after
the second century, and shaped and governed their
t^h'eVeeVii's. studious education.'^ On this principle their minds
were taught to think and write; and it is amusing to
seeCassiodorus,oneof the last of the literary Romans,
the chief minister of Theodoric, striving to pen his
sovereign's official orders with the elaborate amplifi
cations of the orator.'*
" The logical and metaphysical works of Ammonius, Plotinus, Proclus,
Jarablichus, Porphyry, and others of the philosophers, have given me
the impression mentioned in the text. The controversial works of the
Greek fathers display the same mind and manner on different subjects
with additional acrimony. In Mr. Boyd's Selections from some of the
most celebrated orations of the Greek fathers, we see their rhetoric in
profusion. The feeling of egotism, never concealed, pervades all their
•discourses. It must have been the national characteristic, or it would
not have been so much expressed, and could not have been so patientljr
endured. In St. Gregory's funeral oration on his brother, we have a spe
cimen how anxious the preacher was, even on this melancholy occasion,
to protrude himself to the notice of the audience. See Mr. Boyd's
translation, pp, 122, 123, 127, 136; 139-143.
^ Rhetorical sophistry has been so engrafted in the Grecian literature
and genius, that in 1826 it was reviving with the reviving literature of
modern Greece. Constantinus Oikonomos, the present professor of phi
lology at Smyrna, has found it necessary, in the preliminary discourses
to his T6jj»iij P«Topix5f, lately printed at \'ieniia, to caution his pupils
against it : ' Exercise your intellectual faculties with all the dignity that
becomes a man, but avoid those disputations and wranglings in which
tlie sophists of our day so greatly delight. The present state of literature
in Greece is not so absolutely wretched, as that our youths should
abandon themselves entirely to the study of the problems aud sophisms
of dialectics." Panor. N° 99. p. 1062.
'* The object of the order was, that Symmachus should cause a son,
who had attempted parricide, to lie brought before him for judgment. —
It is introduced with two pages of rhetorical common-place on filial
ingratitude, with such imagerical arguments as these : ' The whelps of
.wild beasts follow their parents ; the shoots of trees do not quarrel with
their stem ; the branch of the vine obeys its own stock ; and shall man
differ with his own source ? — The care of tbe ancestor does not shun the
ieas themselves, excited by cruel tempests, that he may gain by foreign
merchandise wbat he may leave his children. The birds themselves^
seeking food, stain not their nature with ingratitude — The stork, the
DURING THE RHDDLE AGES. 133
This characterising defect in the Roman literature, chap.
seems to have arisen from the extreme desire of per- ^-
sonal distinction and notoriety which was the passion decline
and the imperfection of the classical world. It led the °u^"be-
Roman generals to their laborious wars, and made tore the
a greediness for social admiration, which we may
truly call vain-glory, the restless principle of all ;
and ainong these of their orators and literary students.
Cicero was at times intoxicated by it, and inferior
men to the full extent of their moderate capacity
sought the delusive gratification. Hence, the ap
plause of others, and superior distinction and per
sonal pre-eminence, and not the love of truth nor
any desire of enlarging the possessed knowlege, or
of benefiting mankind, were the actuating principles
of the chief Latin authors, before the Goths over-
flooded Europe with their new and dissimilar po
pulation.'' herald of the returning year, throwing off the sadness of winter, intro
ducing the hilarity of the vernal season, delivers to us a great example of
piety ; for when their parents droop the wings from old age, nor can be
found fit to seek their own food, they, cherishing the cold limbs of their
parents with their wings, refresh their wearied frames with nourishment,
and till the aged bird can be restored to its primeval vigor, their young
progeny, witiv pious vicissitude, return what, when little, they received
from their parents.' He then goes on to the partridges, and after another
long simile from them, at last gives the royal order. Cass. Vp. 1. I.
ep. 14. p. 44. — Another specimen of the rhetorical statesman follows in
the fiirtieth letter. The king writes to Boetius, that the king of the
Franks wished a harper. His minister takes occasion, from this circura^
stance, to pour out six pages of rhetoric on the use and history of music ;
and this to Boetius, who had written on the subject. Almost all the
state letters are in this style, tho not so profusely.
*" Cicero's oration against Piso avows strongly these feelings, ' No
one can desire to have an army, or asks for it, but from the desire of a
public triumph. It is even the mark of a narrow and mean-spirited mind
,to despise the honor and dignity of a just triumph. It is the part of a
trifling mind that avoids light and splendor, to repudiate due glory, which
is the most honorable fruit of true virtue.' He makes it a great crime in
Piso fer declining to have a triumph : and represents popular acclama
tions and public parade as true glory and the best reward of virtue. But
we may see in Plutarch's Treatise on Moral Virtue, and in others of his
K 3
HISTORYOFENGLAND
134 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK The Roman education being thus essentially rhe-
Vt- torlcal, precluded a taste for science, true judgment,
LITERARY Or slmpUcIty. The tropes and figures of rhetoric
became an elaborate study. We have treatises on
these, with names, distinctions and niceties, which a
Kant might envy.'" These verbal discriminations,
so useless, because they have never made an orator,
but so mischievous, because whenever seriously
studied, they tempt students to be as absurd as their
teachers, were begun by the Greeks, the great mas
ters of wordy ingenuity. "^ The Romans emulously
cultivated the specious but ineffectual art; and verbal
rhetoric became a subject of favorite composition'* —
not the Intellectual eloquence of Cicero and Demos
thenes, but the minute rhetoric ofthe narrow-minded
critics of words, epithets, particles, cases and sen-
miscellaneous works, how little its true principles wei-e understood even
after the establishment of the Imperial government : and how very insuf
ficient the ethical disputes and writings of the antients were, to form a
consistent, intelligent, and useful moral character,
' '° Being good Greek, it would be profane to call them barbarous ;
otherwise the names given by Rutilius Lupus, to his figures of Elocution,
might have tempted the application of this epithet — Prosapodosis, Sy-
nathroesmus, Paradiastole, Anaclasis, Epiphora, Coenotes, Polyptoton,
Epanalepsis, Epiploce, Polysyndeton, Ananceeon, Brachyepia, Syscevasis,
&c. &c.
^' The Greeks were not satisfied until they traced out these oratorical
beauties in Homer ; and the largest part of Dion. Halicarnasseus' Life of
him is devoted to this fanciful subject. The treatise of Lupus, De Figuris
Sententiarum, was drawn up from the Greek of his contemporary Gor-
gias, as that of Aquila was from the Greek Numenins. The works of
many ofthe Grecian rhetors still exist, and have been published by Aldus,
'' Besides the rhetor Lupus, we have Aquila Romanus de Figuris, and
Julius Rufinianus on the same topic : — and the longer treatise of Curius
Fortunatianus, entitled, Artis Rhetorics Scholicse. The Expositio on
Cicero's Rhetoricon, by Marius Victorinus, a rhetor of Rome, is also a
copious work. The Institutiones Oratoriae of Sulpitius Victor, are the
instructions he composed for his son-in-law. Emporius the rhetor
entitles his work de Ethopoeia ac loco Communi. We have also the
Principia Rhetorices of Aurelius Augustinus — and the Syntomata Rhe-
toricEe of Julius Severianus. To these we may add, Rufinus's hexameter
verses de Compositione et Metris Oratorum, and Priscian's de Praexer-
citamentis Rhetoricas, taken from Hermogenes, and Martianus Capella
de Rhetorica Liber. K 3
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES, 105
tences.'^ Though treatises swarmed on this un- chap,
worthy subject, yet such a favorite was the study, ^-
that it was never thought exhausted ; and it is per- decline
haps one proof of Its general cultivation, that so "ur"be-'
many works upon it have survived, while nobler fore the
authors have perished, Boetius condescended to conquest,
add the eftbrts of his mind, fit for better things, to " '' '
this popular subject ; and, rather stimulated than
discouraged by the numbers that had preceded,
Cassiodorus also furnished the sixth century with his
Rhetorlcae Compendium,*" The continuation of
such compositions shews how inveterately the love
of rhetoric was rooted in the Roman mind.
From this direction of the Roman literature and The
tuition, rhetoric became a principal object of appli- Gothic
cation among- those Gothic nations who made the imbibe the
rhetorical
spirit.
¦"&
Roman literature their study and their model. W6
find Isidore writing on this subject in Spain.*' Even
^ To give an instance. Aquila says, p, 28, The following sentence
contains three figures : the isocolon, the homoeoptoton, and the diezeug-
menon. ' The Athenians fortified with colonies that part of Asia which is
called Ionia : the Dorians occupied that region of Italy which is named
Magna Gr«cia.' The disjunction of two connected sentences, is the orna
ment they call diezeugmenon. The similarity of cases which appears in
the Latin of the above, is the homoeoptoton; and the combination ofthe
two sentences, the two equal colons, they call the isocolon. — Yet of
such trifling, Aquila says, ' These things are the peculiar office ofthe
orator. By this science he raises the little; he expands the contracted;
he rapidly gives ornament, force and weight, to his words and sentences.
Notbingcan equal this in affecting the rainds ofthe hearers andjudges.' p. 15.
¦"¦ See his VVork, vol. 2. p. 454. Yet for a peculiar beauty too much
neglected by some of our best writers, I would strongly recommend the
study ofthe Georgics and .Eneid of Virgil, and all the Works of Cicero;
I mean that sweet and melodious selection and combination of words,
and rhythmical structure of sentence, which combine clearness and exact
ness of meaning with fewness and simplicity of terms to express it, and
yet, which display an energy of spirit, a pictorial beauty, a terse elegance,
an easy strength, and a musical harmony of effect ; in which no man has
exceeded Virgil in poetry, or Cicero, with all his rhetorical amplifications,
in his polished prose,
¦" In his De Arte Rhetorica Liber, with the feeling of a Christian
writer, he also makes the recommendation of Quintilian an essenttial part
of his definition : ' Orator est vir bonus dicendi peritus.'
K 4
136 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK our simple-minded Bede employed himself in search-
^^- ing the Sacred Writings for these verbal ornaments,
LITERARY from hls anxiety to shew that they were not deficient
II^olI^d! in this popular requisite f and Alcuin thought it
' — « — ' necessary to instruct his imperial friend and patron
in this popular art, and has left a dialogue upon it
between himself and Charlemagne,*'
Rhetoric thus adopted into the education of the
barbaric mind, soon materially characterized their
literature. In Spain, in the seventh century, we have
the work of St. Ildephonso on the Immaculate Vir
ginity, which displays the oratorical style, tinged
with polemical arrogance in its full exertion — in all
its pompous inanity, and mischievous verbosity, vio
lent, passionate, dictatorial and unmeaning.** Eulo-
gius, in his Memorialis Sanctorum, appears to have
" See his book De Tropis Sacrse Scripturse, He says. The Grecians
boasted that they were the repertores of such figures and tropes ; but that
the world might know that the Bible ipsa preeminet positione dicendi, he
wrote his book. His instance, from some Latin writer, ofthe Paroimion,
is one ofthe completest and most fantastic specimens of alliteration that
I have seen :
' O Tite tute Tate tibi tanta tyranne tulisti.'
This equals Aldhelm's prose (Ang. Sax. vol. 3. p. 377. 410. ed.) and out
does even the Welsh bards, who delighted in this caricaturing ornament,
"" In this he tells the Emperor, that rhetoric drew mankind, from
wandering like wild beasts in the woods, to houses, society, and religion.
He pays him a compliment in the true style of his art : ' The spark of
my small genius can add nothing to the flame-breathing light of thy
wisdom.' ** ' What say you, O Jew ! what do you propose ? what do you medi
tate.? what do you oppose? what do you object? Behold our Virgin —
She is thine by stem — thine by race, thine by root, thine by country, thine
by people, thine by iiation, thine by origin. But from our faith she is
ours — ours from belief, ours from assent, ours from reverence, ours from
honor, ours from praise, ours from glorification, ours from choice, ours from
love, ours from preaching,' &c. p. 95. This is harmless nothingness. Other
parts of his empty declamation are mischievous : ' Hear me, thou Eluidius 1
attend to me, thou impudent one; hear me, thou immodest one ; look at
me, dishonest man. Behold me, thou shameless ! What, are you dis
turbing with your indecency ? What, unblushing, are you urging ? What,
deceiver, are you attempting ? What art thou attacking without reve
rence ? What, without bashfulness, art thou afflicting ? ' Bib, Mag. Pat..
t. 9. p. 94.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 137
been formed from the same school. And even a letter CHAP.
written from that country attempts the absurdity of '^'
rhetorical diction, and proves how carefully the Ro- decline
man rhetoricians were studied.*' Among our Anglo- ture be-'
Saxons, Aldhelm, so admired as to be praised by fore the
Malmsbury above four centuries after his death, has conquest.
left us an elaborate work written in this spirit, " '
which is remarkable only for being one tissue of ex*
travagant metaphor, of inflated, exaggerated and un
profitable declamation.*" The same style, notwith
standing our Alfred's correcting example, repeatedly
emerged in Edgar's legal charters, probably penned
by St. Dunstan. It abounds in the works of the
Anglo-Norman monks, who had formed themselves
on Roman literature, even in the twelfth century^
when better things had begun to appear.*'^ In other
nations, the same taste, the same absurdity, appears.**
¦" It is from Alvar to Eulogius : — In this he says, ' The fiery-haired
traveller of the centre, dwells, as soon as he rises, in the eyes of Heaven.'
— The whole letter is not only rhetorical, but aims to be so — for it talks
ofthe redundant oratory ofthe Tullian fountain, ofthe fervent genius of
Demosthenes, the rich eloquence of Cicero, and the florid Quintilian; and
commends his friend for adding to the divine food the florem rhetoricum.
Bib. Mag. Pat. t. 9. p. 338.
*' This work is entitled S' Aldhelmi Liber de laudibus Virginitatis.
Every page of it is in the rhetorical style, and is meant to be so as its
merit and character, ' de intactEe virginitatis gloria rhetoricamur.' p. 367.
He says, ' Having placed the rhetorical foundations, and built up the
walls of prose, I will lay on a most firm roof with trochaic tiles and dac
tylic bricks of metres.' p. ,368. Every sentence contains a trope and a
metaphor. It is made up of sixty chapters of rhetorical figures, the whole
meaning of which may be expressed in three words, ' Virginity is praise-
Worthy.' ¦" Thus in the writers of Becket's Life we have as the praise of a
prelate — that he was the morning star of the heavenly firmament, a most
glowing carbuncle, the refulgent bow among the clouds, the lily in the
flowing waters, the rose in spring, frankincense flaming in the fire, a solid
vessel of gold, a lily of purity, a rose of modesty, the viol of celestial con
versation, the music of jocund society, the pillar of justice, the infrangi-
tle adamant of constancy. Quadril. 1. 1. c. 21. in the old edition; c. l6.
in the later.
*' This rhetorical declamation became the character of all the eccler
siastical writings (not -scholastic) of the middle ages; not indeed witli
HISTORYOFENGLAND.
13a HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK It suited indeed many of the subjects on wbich it was
;_ lavished — the exaggerated lives of saints politically
literary canonized by papal mandate — and the fallacious re
commendations of useless relics. The rhetorical style
still marks the ecclesiastical literature of Spain, Por
tugal, and Italy, which is chiefly formed upon the
Latin classics and fathers. It is always rhetorical,
and it is little else.
Its inju- - The instances alluded to, are adduced as striking
fects on specimens of the ill effects that have arisen from the
the human exclusivc study of the Roman literature, and from
mind, _ / _ _
giving education an oratorical direction. But the
evil did not rest on particular examples of extrava
gance. The world might have smiled at such things,
and forgotten them : the Greeks might have made
half a dozen distinctions of irony, and given their dis
covery importance by hard names,** and have amused
themselves with a hundred follies of that sort, if no
other consequence had followed. But they ino
culated the whole literary world with the delusion,
as a merit ; and fixed on the human mind a rheto
rical fashion and tendency, which insured its depra
vation, and precluded its improvement. Men were
laboriously educated to think in these trammels, or
rather, to lose all thought and reasoning in recollect
ing and pursuing these unmeaning niceties of phrase.
equal spirit or ingenuity; there is the dull rhetoric as well as the ani
mated. But the rhetorical tone of mind, not reasoning, not comparing,
hot inquiring, not judging, but merely putting together phrases and com-
hion-places ; amplifying and declaiming ; laboring at style without know
lege, combining words without distinct ideas, repeating the quindecies
tepetita, and aiming to be oratorical ; must strike all who will take the
trouble to read the Latin works that preceded the fourteenth century,
and many since.
'" Rufinianus gravely details these from Numenius : the chleuasmus,
or epicertomesis ; the charientlsmus, or scomma; the asteismus; the
tliasyrmus; the exutheiiismus ; and the sarcasmus.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 139
Nor was any discrimination made as to the merit of CHAP.
such things : the notable paroimion above quoted ^'
from Bede, and all the schemata, tropes and figures, ntcLiNE
which the Greeks vaunted to be their discoveries, tu„e ^e-
were carefully noted, repeated and recommended foi^ethe
. , , •' ' ^ . NORMAN
With the same general sentences ot introductory pa- conquest.
negyric, as if all, were equally beautiful — all, the ' ^ '
intentional produce of genius — all, the sanctioned
ornaments of good taste. The consequence could
be no other than it was. The literary strove to excel
in rhetoric, not in knowlege ; the rhetors multiplied
like dancing masters ; science declined ; good taste
departed. Literature was no longer esteemed for
itself; it was cultivated but as vanity or interest re
quired ; grosser amusements pleased better ; and
knowlege wa.s fast expiring in the Roman world
when the Goths invaded.
When the love of letters began to rise in the dark
ages, this rhetorical literature spread with it ; it was
no longer confined to judicial causes ; it was deemed
a necessary accomplishment to all. Oratory supplies
us with the grace of words, says Theodoric.™ It is
the science of speaking well, exclaims Alcuin ; who
makes his emperor reply, " Then explain to us the
rules of the rhetorical discipline, for necessity com
pels us to be exercised in them every day : " — and,
having heard his preceptor's lessons, he is taught to
add, " Who shall dare to say that we have discoursed
in vain, if he be an inquirer into the liberal arts or a
follower of the excellent virtues ! " " So that rhetoric
was at last supposed to be the key of knowlege, and
the handmaid of morality. Instead of keeping it in
» Cassiod. Ep. p. 83\
*' Alcuin de Rh. Lib. 39O & 409. apud Ant. Rhet. Capperonerii,
HISTORYOF E-NGLAND.
J40 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK a subjected state to promote better purposes, instead
^^' of making thought, truth, knowlege, wisdom, feeling
LITERARY and taste, the essentials of the mind and its composi
tions, and the oratorical ornament but the connected
and skilfully adapted grace, the student was trained
to think rhetorically, and write rhetorically, and to
speak, and, where he could, to harangue rhetorically^
whatever might be the fact, the subject, or the utility.
Personal display and the gaining of an immediate
object, or the indulgence of a prominent feeling at
any expense of justice or truth, were usually the re
sults and aims of such a state of mind. It cannot
discover, and rarely values truth, and too often per
plexes and destroys it.
Hence the defects of a rhetorical education iare
bbvious. The mind so instructed and contorted may
give new turns to its common-places, may disturb
language into new phrases, and declaim with well-
sounding volubility on the familiar topics of the
kcademy ; but if it act in this direction for ages, it
will not add one fact of useful knowlege, nor evolve
one natural feeling, nor attain any new improvements
Rhetoric is essentially conversant^ with words, not
with things, and seduces the whole soul into the same
¦path. Like the syllogism of Aristotle, it may enforce
what is known ; it will discover nothing that is un
known. It will be still but the new rhetor following
the old rhetor in the same trodden circle, disturbing
iifresh the same dust, and moving round in the same
trammels, but never emancipating itself from its bond
age, never discovering a new path of intellect, nor
able to achieve one original flight. Our Aldhelm
is a complete specimen how much rhetorical ampli
fications can spoil a valuable mind.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 14t
The' spirit of rhetorical criticism has now happily chap.
ceased. We do not now inquire what tropes and ^•
figures a poem contains ; we do not now hunt, like decTTJ!
the Grecian rhetors, for such things as the metalepsis
or the antonomasia ; for the diasyrmus, the charlen-
tismus or the litotes. Though some authors have
tried to make rhetoric easy'* among us; and metri
cal distributions of figures have been published, con
taining " a noble fund of tropo-schematological
knowledge,"^ for the torment of unfortunate schools
boys ; yet this spirit and these discriminations have
never obtained a standard place in English literary
criticism, and have never been aimed at by English
authors. Declamation, even in public oratory, now
excites mistrust and prevents conviction ; it sounds"
to us immediately like the voice of imposition, and
we prefer a Caesar's clear and unassuming simplicity
of uncoloured fact, to all the gorgeous drapery and
rancorous effusions of an accusing Cicero, and, may
I add, of an impeaching Burke.
The Grecian literature had become as unprofitablcr Grecian
Its philosophers had argued themselves into almost enuSfr*
as many theories as there were disputants. Their declines,
theologians were prolific of heresies, contentions, and
superstitions. Their emperors were polemical par-
" Mr. John Holmes took this trouble, in 1754, in his Art of Rhetoric.
made easy ; wherein he tells us, that he had ' sold 6000 of his Latin
Grammars; near 4000 of his Greek Grammars with this Treatise; and
the rest in due proportion.' Pref.
" So says Holmes of Mr. D. Burton's Figurae Metricse, composed for
Durham school, containing 142 Latin hexameters, each with such Gor
gon names to poorschool-boysas these— Verba Epanorthosis revocans-
addensque reformat ; Aposiopf.sis reticet, remque inuuit omnera ; Rem
negat Apophasis, quain transgreditur Paraleipsis, The rhetorical:
enthusiast liberally promised to each of his scholars ' sixpence, whoever:
he is, that will learn 'ein [these 142 lines] by heart, and repeat 'em to him'
with understanding.' p. 32. Our school-boys of former days must have
been made indefatigable blocklieads.
142 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK tisans; sectarian chieftains; not the impartial sove-
^^- reigns of an enlightened nation. The discussions
LITERARY being always upon words, or the selfish conflicts of
ENGLAND.^ factlous vlolcuce and acrimonious bigotry, never
' — -^ — ' benefited the intellect. But the Greeks seem to have
deceived themselves, by the perfections into which
they had wrought their sweet and copious tongue.
They mistook novelty of phrase for novelty of idea ;
they believed that they had started an acute refine
ment of thought, when they had only made a new
distinction and arrangement of a beautiful diction.
If we were not captivated by the charms of the lan
guage, and of their ancient fame, rather than by the
utility of the matter, the reveries of Jacob Behmen
would appear as important and as intelligible as
many of the metaphysical reasonings of Plotinus,
Ammonius, and Proclus. What mind, enlightened by
modern science, can value them for any real discri
mination of thought, or for the discovery or exposi
tion of any additional knowlege !
The Grecian fathers emulated the sophistry and
rhetoric of their philosophical opponents, and a wordy
luxuriance of useless subtleties and theatrical decla
mation was their ambition and their disgrace.'* They
became admirable combatants ; they fought with all
the ardor and tactics of fierce and disciplined war-
*' Rhetoric should not be taught as an art, or the mind will be injured
by the tuition. The treatises upon it, frdm Aristotle to Cassiodorus,
should be forgotten. Knowlege is the first requisite; a frequent perusal
of those who have been truly and honorably eloquent, the second ; the
formation of a correct judgment is the third; to these should be added
varied and appropriate feeling, a mellifluous and yet powerful diction — ¦
a flexible and impressive elocution. The habit of public speaking, to
make all these attainments available on the immediate spur of every
occasion, will then give a facility and force which no precepts can impart.
Pericles and Demosthenes astonished Greece before the rhetors rose.
No great man has ever been formed by these rules.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 143
riors. But their triumphs were the destruction of chap.
their religion ; and it became necessary to discipline ^-
Christianity, by the introduction of Mahomedanism, decline
in order to preserve It. turIJbe-'
Pursuing these considerations to their conse- ^o«-^ the
quences, we cannot wonder that the Grecian litera- conquest.
ture had declined into insignificance in the ninth ' '" '
and tenth centuries.'' It is certainly a remarkable
fact, that both the Grecian and the Roman literature
were unable to sustain themselves. They not only
became incompetent to improve the world — they
could not even continue their own existence. They
neither corrected their evil tendencies, nor those of
society, nor preserved their real merit. They became
neglected and discredited in their own countries,
where they had once so vigorously flourished ; and
when the barbarous nations attempted to transplant
them into the Gothic soil, they produced but a feeble
vegetation, which soon hastened into decay.'"
^ In the ninth century, Bardas began to open schools of good letters
in Constantinople. Curopalates says of him, that he had ' a knowlege
of foreign wisdom, which had long declined, and had almost wholly
perished. There was then so great a penury of learned men in Greece,
that it was necessary to search them out with great diligence, living
concealed here and there in corners, and in want. There was no vestige
of schools in Athens at that time.' Baronius Annal. l. p. l8o. Yet no
barbarians had then occupied the Byzantine capital,
" Great lamentation has been made at the loss of so many of the
Greek poets, and great indignation excited by the account which
P. Alcyonio, in his Lib. de Exilio, has transmitted to us, that tlie eastern
emperors, under the influence of the Grecian clergy, caused many of
their ancient Greek poems to be burnt. Among those he particularizes
those of Menander, Diphilus, ApoUodorus, Philemon, Alexis, Sappho,
Grinna, Anacreon, Minnermus, Bion, Alcman, and Alcaeus. But the
same author expresses the reason to have been ou account of their inde
cencies. We need not therefore refer their perishing to any imperial
destruction ; because in every country, as its moral taste and judgment
improves, all vpriters of this sort sink naturally into that disuse and
oblivion, which our indecent poets and novelists of Charles TI. have
experienced, and which the similar ones of onr own time must submit to.
The preservation of such works, especially in a dead language, could
HISTORYOF ENGLAND
144 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK It is manifest that by the time the Gothic tribes:
;_ overthrew the Roman empire, that sensitive rectitude
LITERARY of Intellcct or refinement of judgment, which we call
good taste, had abandoned the Roman mind. This
invaluable attainment of the cultivated spirit seems
to depend neither on rank nor on government ; for
the low born Horace and Virgil, under the military
despotism of Augustus, possessed it in a degree
superior to any of the ancients — not, perhaps, even
excepting Cicero and Livy. Its deficiency in every
subsequent generation appeared not only in literary
composition, but also in the fine arts. The glaring
superseded the tasteful ; colour took the lead of
beauty; the monstrous had displaced the natural,
and the perfect art of ancient painting seemed to
have expired ; " showy purple wandered about the
walls, and the drugs of India lavishly stained them,
but no noble picture'* delighted the eye of feeling
and the cultivated reason. Moral, not political
causes, must have produced this deterioration ; and
the ancients seem to hint at this idea ; for Pliny re
minds us, that the great Protogenes was contented
have produced no good to mankind. Hence, tho Aristophanes was so
celebrated for his attic style, yet as its peculiar graces can be but faintly
perceived by modern students, his works, if familiarly used, would do
far more injury by their frequent licentiousness than they would benefit
by their diction. The world is always outgrowing such sort of composi
tions, and from its own improvement, as well as for its own happiness,
neglects them. It is probable that the most useful and least exception
able of the ancient classics have survived to us. These benefit mankind
as far as their utility extends ; but it is obvious that if the mind of the
world was to be now confined to them, it would fall from its present
varied affluence to a state of great comparative poverty.
" See Vitruvius, 1. 7. c. 5. This bad taste was beginning in the days
ofTuUy, for he remarks how much ' floridiora' the new pictures were
than the old ones ; how much less durably they pleased, and how horrid
such an effect would have been deemed in those of the ancient masters.
De Nat. 1, 3 c, 25,
=' Pliny Nat. Hist, 1, 35, c, 7. ' Nunc et purpuris in parietes migran-
tibus,' — ' Nulla nobilis pictura est.' Ib.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 14.5
with a cottage in his garden, and that a pictorial chap,
artist was then the common property of the world,'* ^'
While Petronius desires us not to be surprised that decline
painting had declined, because in his days a heap of tur"be-
gold was thought to be far more beautiful than any ^°^^ the
thing which Apelles, Phidias, or any such insignifi- conquest
cant madmen;^ had created. Neither art nor lite- ' " '
rature lost any thing by the Roman mind being
changed for the Gothic ; the same interval pf time
was necessary for the transplanted seed and engrafted
buds to grow up to their full beauty in the latter.
Let us now contemplate the revival of classical
literature in England, and its intellectual result.
This will enable us more completely to ascertain its
value ; and to mark the utility of the new direction
and occupations in which the English and European
mind was after the Norman conquest eagerly
engaged. ¦;
^ Nat. Hist. 1. 35. c, 10.
" Petr. Satyr, c. 87. How much the love, the pursuit, and the pos
session of wealth corrupted the human mind, its history alter the conquest
of Asia fully shews. How different were their forefathers, and how
poor! Even Petronius felt the ill effects of the fashionable luxury of
Rome on the mind to be so great, as to say, that ' he who loves the result^
of superior art, and would apply his mind to great things, must, like the
ancients, study under the habits of a strict frugality, and avoid palaces,
suppers, wine, and public theatres ; with philosophy he should associate^
and exercise himself with the arms of the mighty Demosthenes ; then
the grand elocution ofthe unconquered Cicero will be his own ; his mind
will be full of the stream of genius, and he will pour out his own con
ceptions from a Pierian breast'.' 1. 1 .
Vol. IV.
146
HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
CHAP, II.
Latin
Literature ofthe
Anglo- Saxons.
Its decline.
History of the Revival of the Latin Literature in England,
after the 'Norman Conquest.
1 HE first literature that arose in England, after the
Saxon invasion, was the Roman ; introduced by the
monks, whom Gregory the Great had sent from Italy.
A little Greek was added by one of them,' but it did
not lead to the permanent cultivation of Greek lite
rature. The books that were placed and studied in
the Anglo-Saxon libraries, were, the Roman classics
and fathers ;* and the works ofthe few Anglo-Saxon
Students who emerged into celebrity, were little else
than transcripts, imitations, and revivals of that spe
cies of literature which had fallen with the Western
empire, and whose fragments were afterwards sought
after and collected by its barbaric conquerors.
When Alfred endeavored to direct his countrymen
to intellectual cultivation, it was the Roman literature
which he presented to their contemplation, in his
translations of Boetius and Orosius ; and even in
Gregory and Bede, who were little else than the
Latin fathers reflected and unimproved, except so far
as their facts and reasoning were selected from their
rhetoric, of which our Bede did not retain, and does
' Bede, 1. 4. c. l. The Anglo-Saxon mode of pronouncing the Lord's
Prayer in Greek, as given in Hist. Anglo-Sax. v. 2. p. 361, from a Saxon
MS. shows how little the Greek was understood; the words are divided
so as to prove that they were repeated by mere parrots, as sounds, the
verbal meaning of which was not known.
'' See the list in Hist. Anglo-Sax. v, 2. pp. 362, 363,
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. I47
not exhibit to us a single ray. This species of letters CHAP.
did not advance the Anglo-Saxon mind. After ^^-
Alfred's death, it rapidly declined. Dunstan and his revival
friends endeavored to revive it, with its rhetorical ?!^,,tt^"^Lil I Elt A-
costume, but in vain. England became under its ture
tuition, a degenerating people. The Anglo-Saxon norman"^
vernacular literature could give no intellectual sue- ^°"^"'^st.
cor ; for it was of little value, and was never im
proved : and at the period of the Norman conquest,
all sort of learning had almost vanished out of our
Island. Such was the state of its most intellectual
body, the ecclesiastic, that we find it declared that
" the studies of learning and religion had become
obsolete ; the clergy, contented with a disorderly
literature, could scarcely stammer out the words of
their sacraments ; it was a miracle to the rest if any
of them knew grammar."^ The Anglo-Saxon monks
are described to have been stupid and barbarous,
living like the laity ; following hounds and falcons,
racing with horses, shaking the dice, and indulging
bacchanalian jovialities where they had the means,*
and in other places, existing in the most sordid po
verty.' Even the archbishop and bishops, in the time
of the Confessor, are noticed to have been illiterate
and sensual men.* And thus the Roman literature
was found to be as ineffective to general improvement
in England, as it had been in Italy. Tho transplanted
among a new people, and patronized by a popular
king and a venerated prelate, it never displayed a
vigorous or an extensive produce ; the national
' Malmsb. 1. 3. p. 101, ¦* Ib. pp. 214. 254.
' Thus in the cathedral of Rochester, there were scarcely four canons,
and these had, ' to endure life with a scanty food, casually obtained from
meal to mejil,' Ib. p. 233.
" Ib. 204. 256.
HISTORYOF
EN.GLAND,
148 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK intellect declined under its tuition; and England
^^- added another proof of its incompetency alone to re-
LiTERARY gcncratc or to fertilize the understanding.
The Normans, fond of pomp, and craving personal
distinction,'^ roused the English mind from this in
tellectual trance, and excited that literary spirit, and
commenced that system of education, which, assisted
by new sources of instruction, produced a love and
cultivation of knowlege that have never since de
parted from the British isles. The Norman love of
fame spread from their warriors to their clergy ; the
Anglo-Saxon sensuality was corrected, and general
emulation produced universal improvement.* But how
came the Normans, whose ancestors but i .50 years
before had been fierce pirates, to be the revivers of
literature in England and France? Ignorant them
selves, whence came their knowlege and literary
jtaste? From the presence and activity of one indivi
dual, himself of barbarous descent — from the cele^
brated Lanfranc. But Lanfranc was a Lombard —
and it is a curious illustration of the fact which we
have urged on the attention of our readers, that the
barbaric conquests of the declining Roman empire
svere beneficial to the progression of mankind ; that
' Malmsb, 256. Norraanni fainae in futurum studiosissimi. p. 238.
* The degeneracy of the Anglo-Saxon manners is thus described by
Malmesbury : ' Clothed in fine garments and heedless of their days of
abstinence, the monks laughed at their rule. The nobles devoted to glut
tony and voluptuousness, never visited the church ; but the matins and
the mass were run over to them by a hurrying priest, in their bed
chambers, before they rose, themselves not listening. The common
people were a prey to the more powerful; their property seized; their
bodies dragged away to distant countries ; their maid servants were either
thrown into the brothel, or sold as slaves. Drinking day and night was
the general pursuit; vices, the companions of inebriety, followed, effemi
nating the manly mind.' I. 3. p. 101, 102. He says, that while they
wasted their substance at their tables, their houses were poor and mean ;
unlike the Franks and Normans, who were economical in their family
expense.s, but loved spacious and magnificent edifices. Ib.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. ijjj
altho the Lbrnbards were the most barbaroiis of all chap.
the Gothic invaders, yet among them the literary ^^-
studies of Italy first revived, its most celebrated revival
schools were established, and its most cultivated ?T ^"^'^
LITERA""
states arid most enterprising citizens were formed ; ture
and from them and from their cities, Pavia and Pisa,' norman
learning was planted under Charlemagne in France, ^onquest.
and re-planted, both there and in England, under
Lanfranc, and his friends and pupils.
Letters were declining in France, notwithstanding Revived
the taste and exertions of the Carlovingian family to 1?^ ^''""
. . . . ... rranc.
nationalize the Latin literature within it," when Lan
franc, a Lombard, unknown to fame, and unconscious
of his future importance to mankind, was attracted
by the military reputation of the Normans to quit his
native country, Pavia, and to open a school at an
obscure village in their duchy." His humble hopes
were shewn in the lowly choice of his residence.
The abbey of Bee was the poorest and most insigni
ficant of all the Norman monasteries ; " its abbot was
one of the rudest and most ignorant of their clergy ;'*
and the fraternity were in the greatest state of
' Guitmund, the pupil of Lanfranc, says, that at this time ' liberales
artes intra Gallias pene obsoleverant.' De Euch. Bib. Mag. Pat. t. 6.
p. 215. We must remark to the credit of the ancient Abbey of Fleury,
tliat this benedictine retreat had made great efforts tn uphold and diffuse
literature in France, About 1013, it had 5000 students under its super
intendence, and required every scholar to make an annual contribution of
two MSS. to its library. The Republica of Cicero, which afterwards
became lost to the world till the abb6 May restored it from a palimpset
roll, was in its hbrary. Raym. Troub. \. 2. p. 129. Introd.
'" Ord. Vit, 519. Lanfranc reached it in 1042. Chron. Bee, p. 2.
He was wounded by robbers near the place he settled at.
, " Quo nullum usquam pauperius sestimabatur vel abjectius ccenobiu
W. Gemmet. Hist. 1. 6. p, 202. He found the abbot building an pven
himself, Lanfranc lived here three years omnibus ignotus. W. Gemmet.
Hist, '' His name was Herluin. He did not learn to read till the age of
forty. Gisleb, vita Herl. p. 34, I- 3
HISTORYOFENGLAND
ISff HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK wretchedness and penury," But ' Providence ofteii
^^' works its ends by those humble agencies, which most
LITERARY palpably display the operation to be its own, Lan
franc, the poor emigrant schoolmaster, became the
"" acknowleged cause of the revival of the Latin litera
ture, and the liberal arts, in France." He could not
have anticipated a destiny so distinguished ; but no
individual can forsee the quantity of good which his
exertions may produce. We cannot now describe
Lanfranc's attractive powers, but the fact is recorded,
that, after being there three years unknown, his tui
tion and assiduity excited, even in this miserable
place, so great a love of study, and diff^used it so
widely around, that scholars flocked to him from all
parts and of all ranks." We can only explain the
phenomenon, by assuming, that it was the divine plan
to make this the sera of a new birth of mind ; that
Lanfranc, from his preceptorial talents, was the in
strument best adapted to begin the happy process ;
that Notmandy, from the love of glory of its people,
was the fittest spot; and that contingencies were made
ta occur, Mrhich gave effect to his agency. The scho
lars of Bee became so respected, that we find a pope
indebted to Lanfranc for his instruction there, and
having the magnanimity, in the hour of his greatness,
publicly to avow it." The celebrity of Lanfranc
" Aliquanto tempore in maxima egestate et penuria exUtit, Chronicpn
Beccense, p. l. It is printed at the end of Lanfranc's Works, from an
old MS. in the monastery,
" Guitmund, ubi sup. Malm, 205, The ancient biographer of Lanfranc
says, ' quem latinitas, in antiquum scientiae statum ab eo restituta, tola
jignoscit magistrum,' p. 1, and see Ord. Vit. 519.
" W. Gemm. 262, Ord, Vit, says, ' Under this master the Normans
first explored the literary arts. Before him, under the six preceding
dukes, scarcely any one of the Normans pursued the Kberal studies ; nor
was there a teacher found, till God, the provider for all, sent Lanfranc to
the Norman ground,' p, 519.
"• When Lanfranc went to Rome to receive the pall, he was surprised
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 151
spread at last to the Ducal court; and the conqueror CHAP.
able from his own vigorous mind to appreciate ta- Cl
ients in others, was so interested by Lanfranc's fame, revival
as to invite him to court, and to make him a confi- °' ^^'^^^
dential counsellor. Soon after the invasion of Eng- ture
land, William appointed Lanfranc archbishop of
Canterbury. But dignity and wealth did not dis- conquest.
possess his mind of its literary taste : he exerted
himself with unabated zeal, and with proportionate
success, to establish in England a knowlege of the
Latin language, and the study of its authors ; he en
couraged the formation of schools, and the progress
of the scholars; and he even assisted those of slender
AFTER THE
KORMAN
means,'*
To have planted in a rude age and country a love
pf literature, is a benefaction, which entitles the in
dividual who has accomplished it to gratitude and
celebrity. But when, from Lanfranc's deserved repu
tation for this success, we turn to his works, we see
in them no striking correspondence between his at
tainments and his utility. His compositions exhibit
no uncommon intellect, and great poverty of know
lege, though united with good intention and sincere
piety." They have however the great merit of being
to see the pope rising respectfully to him as he entered, on his public
audience, with this remark, ' I do not rise to the archbishop of Canter
bury, but to my old master at Bee, in whose school I was instructed.'
VitaLanfr. p. II. This pope, whose gratitude and sensibility so hono
rably suspended the claims of bis rank, was Alexander,
. " Guil. Pictav. 194. There is reason to believe that the famous
Gregory VII, studied under Lanfranc. Murat. Ant, Ital, 897.
'^ Malmsb. 214.
'* They consist of, his treatise in Defence of Transuhstantiation, against
Bereiigarius ; a neat arrangement of common arguments for a mysterious
Opinion ; and Commentaries on the Epistles of St. Paul, which are plain
in their style, and not important in their matter. His Rule of St. Benedict,
compiled for his monasteries, is clear and precise. His letters are those
of a man of business and decision, Lanfranci Opera, Paris, 1648,
L 4
i.-ia
BOOK VI.
LITERARYHtSTORYOF ENGLAND,
Anselm succeeds him.
HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
entirely free fr6m the ancient rhetoric. Theiy are so
plain and unadorned as to be dull and uninteresting
to a modern reader ; but this barren simplicity con
stituted their pecuhar utility ; their mental affluence
is not great, but it is thought unpainted and therefore
unspoiled; it is humble reasoning without artificial
declamation, and therefore, as far as it operated, it
tended to produce a sound mind and sedate judg
ment ; and by these, to preserve the Anglo-Norm^
mind from the tinsel and frippery with which so-
many of the works of both the Greeks and Latin
fathers are encumbered and made often injurious and
commonly mischievous.*" But he spread, by his ex
hortations and example, a desire to attain what was
then attainable in letters ; and to raise the ignwant
Norman and English mind to the level ofthe Roman,
was to begin its intellectual evolution, and to prepare
it for the more powerful and efficient agencies that
were advancing to effect it,"
Lanfranc was succeeded in his school at Bee, and
afterwards in his archi episcopal see, by Anselm, a
man following his own natural track, but far superior
* I cannot read Massillon, without feeling the mischief of the study
ofthe ancient rhetorical fathers, nor without' lamenting that "they should-
have so much spoiled a mind of great powers. The Spanish and Italiaa
preachers create the same impression, and make us doubly value a
Xeiiophon, a Fenelon, and a Paley, The mind of rhetoric, the mind of
mere logic, and the mind of rich good sense, are quite distinct acquisitions.
2' His contemporary Veran, in the abbey of Fleury, from lo8o to 1095,
increased the library of that monastery ; and from the following order soon
afterwards of Machaire, one of his successors, we see that the MSS. of
libraries then needed as much care and reparations as houses and buildings,
and also a cause why so many have disappeared, ' Seeing that the MSS.
of our library are perishing from the effects of age, and by the attacks of
worms and moths; desiring to remedy this evil, and wishing to have new
MSS. or new parchments for re-copying them bought, I have, with the
consent and at the request of all the monastery, ordered that myself and
all succeeding priors, should pay a yearly contribution on St, Benedict's,
dfiy in every winter, for this necessary, useful and laudable purpose.'
Joan, a Bosco, Flor, Vet, Bibl, p, ,302,' Raym; 130,
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES, I53
to himself in cultivated talent, in force of mind, and CHAP.
in literary composition. He has even had the honor ^^-
of being thought to have furnished Des Cartes with revival
one ofthe most celebrated reasonings of his metaphy- "iter""
sical ingenuity ;** but he was improved from sources ture
1 ¦ T T V> 1 1 • 1 i 1 1 AFTER THE
to which Lanfranc had either not resorted, or only norman
^egantoknow. conquest.
The most informed ecclesiastics on the Continent Anglo-
were invited from all parts into England, and were become
placed in its great ecclesiastical dignities, to the rapid eager for
improvement ofthe country.** Every where the spirit
of learning and better manners, and a taste for noble
architecture, were introduced. The fine arts are
naturally connected with mental advancement ; the
pleasures of the eye and ear have been justly re
marked to be intellectual gratifications ; and therefore
painting, sculpture, architecture, and music, will al
ways be the delights of cultivated understanding.**
The Anglo-Saxons felt the powerful influence of the
two great principles that were actuating the Norman
^ Leibnitz thought that Descartes derived the idea of his well-known
reasoning, 'I think; therefore I exist' — ^from some expression of Anselm,
in his Monulogion.
'^ The canon of Bayeux, made archbishop of York, is highly extolled
forhishterature. Malms. 273. — John of Tours, established at Bath a
congregation of monks, distinguished for knowlege. Ib. 254. — A Norman
bishop filled the church at Dorset with canons of the same literary taste,
Ib. 290, — The monk of St, Berlin, who accompanied the bishop of
Salisbury to England, contributed largely to the diffusion of knowlege in
his diocese. Ib. p, 130. — Another Norman bishop is mentioned, who
was fond of astronomy. Ib. p. 286. — -The archbishop who succeeded
Anselm, was also much attached to learning. Ib. p. 230. — So the Nor
man bishop of Rochester increased thtf condition of this cathedral mag-
nifice. p. 233.
" Thus Malmesbury declares, that the Normans loved great buildings ;
and that after the Norman conquest, churches arose in the villages, and
monasteries in the cities in a new style of building. The kingdom, by the
new customs, began so to flourish, that every opulent man thought the
day had been lost, which some act of splendid magnificence had not dis
tinguished, 1. 3. p, 102.
154 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK character — the love of exterior pomp, in preference
_^ to animal pleasures, and the desire of reputation.
LITERARY Hcuce thc wcalth which the Anglo-Saxons were con-
ENG^rjr suming in the debasing luxuries of the appetites, the
' — ^ — ' Anglo-Normans applied to the erection of great pub
lic edifices ; the support of schools; the acquisition of
books ; and to the display of that stately magnificence^
which, tho productive of pride and ambition, yet was
more favorable to human improvement than corrupt-f
ing sensuality. Their love of fame counteracted the
ill ieffects of their love of pomp, by darting soon at
intellectual objects; and their moral virtues'" con
curred with their spirit of emulation and ardent piety,
to create by degrees a high principle of personal
honor, and a general increase of social probity and
individuEd worth, which gave stability and force to
the national progression.
One impressive description has survived to us, of
the great intellectual activity and usefulness of the
Norman clergy, to plant in England the literature
they had just imbibed.
A striking On Ingulf s death, Joffred was invited from Nor-
instance of mandy, and appointed abbot of Creyland. When he
settled in the monastery, he sent to its farm near
Cambridge four Norman monks, who were well in
structed in what was then called philosophy and
science. With all the zeal, and in the manner of our
modern itinerant preachers, they hired a public barn
. °' We have already noticed the virtues of the Norman character:
Malmesbury adds these traits — ' They are emulous of their equals, and
Strive to surpass their superiors: They are faithful to their masters, but
abandon them on the least oflence : They punish perfidy with death, but
commute the sentence for money : The most kind-hearted of all men,
they treat strangers with the same respect as them.selves. They marry
with their inferiors. Since their coming into England, they have raised
religion as it were from the dead.* 1. 3, p. 102.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 153
at Cambridge, and went thither daily and taught what C H ap.
they knew. In a short time, a great concourse of ^^-
pupils gathered round them. In the second year of revival
their exertions, the accumulation of scholars from all "iter""
the country round, as well as from the town, was so ture
great, that the largest house, barn, or even church, nom\n"
was insufiicient to contain them. To gratify the ex- ™^
tensive demand for their instruction, they separated
their labors. In the first part of the mornings one
of the friars, who was distinguished as a grammarian,
taught the Latin grammar to the younger part of the
community ; at alater hour, another, who was esteemed
an acute sophist, instructed the more advanced in the
logic of Aristotle, according to the comments of Por
phyry and Averroes ; a third friar lectured on rhetoric,
from Cicero and Quintihan ; the fourth, on Sundays
and feast-days, preached to the people in various
churches ; and in this duty Joffred himself frequently
co-operated.** In this unadorned account, we have a striking
proof of the attachment of mankind to intellectual
improvement, and their eagerness to embrace every
opportunity of acquiring it. The soil is ever ready;
the laborers only are wanting, where it continues
unproductive. In the second year of their tuition, we find these
five friars, under all the disadvantages of a foreign
language, of great national prejudice against them,
and of addressing an uncultivated nation,*"^ yet
'"' Hist, Croj'land, 1 Gale Script, p. 1 14.
" Such was the state of England in the rjyes of Lanfranc, at this time,
that among the reasons which he gives to t;he Pope for declining at first
the mitre of Canterbury, were, not only our speaking an unknown lan
guage, but our being a barbarous nation. Op, Lanfr. Ep. 1. p. 299. So
Guitmund, as before quoted in p. 88. Baabarous in the estimation of a
Lombard and a Norman ! But even civiliza,tion in its degeneracy deserves
the epithet.
150
HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
HISTORYOF ENGLAND,
Schoolsevery where es
tablished
BOOK i^uc'cetding so prosperously in spreading liferatiire
^^- around them, that not even the public buildings were
LITERARY largB cuough to contain the scholars who besought
their instruction. If foreign countries under our owir
government pine still in darkness and base supersti
tions, it is not from their want of any susceptibility
of improvement ; it must be our prejudices, and not
theirs, which continue their inferiority. No obstacle
can be deemed insurmountable by the philanthropical
philosopher, who recollects the nations that have
been meliorated, and the gratitude with which they
have hailed their own improvement and its authors.
• One ofthe first fruits of this revival of hterature in
England, was the universal establishment of schools.
To every cathedral, and almost to every monastery,
a school was appended. It is a pleasing feature of
the human character, that we are desirous of im
parting to others the -knowlege we acquire. Few
persons of any note appear to us among the clergy,
during the century after the conquest, who did not
during some part of his life occupy himself in in
structing others. Such efforts must have been the
produce of genuine benevolence, because, of all
intellectual toil, the instruction of youth exacts the
greatest labor, and returns the least immediate gra
tification. Even the Popes were active in exciting
the' cultivation of knowlege: they deserve the credit
pf having led the way, during the eleventh and
twelfth centuries, in causing the establishment of
schools, the formation of libraries, and the directing'
pf the clerical mind to the most useful studies. The
commanding efficacy of their persevering recommen
dations on this momentous subject, affords no small
atonement for the misdirection of their influence in
AFTER THE
NORMAN
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 157
Iheir political struggles.** Councils held under their chap
legates, even in the thirteenth century, continued to ^^¦
patronise schools.*® It is true that they were ecclesi- revival
astical schools, and that extrinsic study was watched ^'' /-*'^''"'
^ TER A—
with some suspicion ; but all assisted to increase ture
the national education ; and the general improvement
in every branch of learning and knowlege attests the ^onquest.
efficacy of their encouragement and exertions. Piigrim-
The habit of pilgrimage, and afterwards of the ^,^^^1.^™
crusades, increased the taste for study. It was im
possible for so many, from all ranks and nations in
Europe, to visit the Grecian and Arab states, without
some conviction of the benefit of superior ktiow-
lege, and a general desire to acquire and impart
the improvement which they beheld. From the
account left by Luithprand, of the wonders he saw
at Constantinople — of the metallic tree, on whose
brazen branches gilt birds were made to sing — of the
throne supported by gilded lions, who roared at hi^
approach — of the other shows and tricks which he
witnessed, and of the horse-laugh with which hi,'^
" Gregory VII. in 1038, ordered that all the bishops should cause the
artes literarum to be taught in their churches. Murat. Ant, Ital. 874^
And in 1 179, in the general council in the Lateran church at Rofne, it
was declared, ' That the church, like a pious mother, ought to provide
for the. needy, as well those things which are necessary for the body, as
those which tend to the progress of the mind : and, lest the opportunity,
of reading and improvement should be withheld from the poor, who had
no paternal wealth to assist them, it directs, that in every cathedral a
competent maintenance should be allowed to a master, who should teach
the ecclesiastics of that church, and also poor scholars, gratis ; and that
uo money should by any means be exacted for licences to teach.' Ann.
Hoveden, p. 589.
"^ Thus the council of Paris held in 1212, under a cardinal legate,
prohibited the exaction of any thing for licence to teach schooling. It
blamed monks who, swore not to lend out any books, and ordered the
bishops to have reading at their tables at the beginning and end of meals.
Dupin, Eccl. Hist. 13tb cent. c. 6.
*• The 20th article of this council forbad those admitted into a monas
tery to go out to study, and ordered the absent to return vyithin two
months. Dupifi, 13 cent.
HISTORYOFENGLAND,
150 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK astonishment was received by the conceited cour-
^ ; tiers'* — it would seem that the saucy Greeks amused
LITERARY tlicmselves with making the western barbarians stare.
These specimens of their mechanical skill may have
"' first interested a rude stranger's notice ; but their
tasteful architecture, their elegant sculptures, their
fine manuscripts, their celebrated loquacity, and the
fame ofthe poets and philosophers who once adorned
their name, must have powerfully impressed the at
tention of many ; and have created that feeling of
deficiency and that desire of emulation which are
the certain parents of improvement.'* A nation that
has been highly civilized, will display even in its
degeneracy some features of its nobler state, which
will make' the uncultivated mind sensible of its infe
riority, and aspire to remove it. Greece has thus
acted upon every nation, but one, with which it has
been connected ; it has kindled mental emulation
among all people who have become acquainted with
the monuments of its arts and literature, except
among the Turks ; they only have the glory or the
disgrace of having for ages deafened themselves to
its syren songs — they only have remained sternly im
penetrable to those attractions which have been found
every where else so seductive and so beneficial.''
'' Luithprand, 1. 6. c. 2 & 3.
*" We see this effect in some men, whose names have escaped the
ravages of time. One Johannes Italus, who went to Constantinople in
1070, is praised by the princess Anna Commena for his knowledge of
Greek literature, and all the arts. Two others are also mentioned about
the same time for their Greek learning ; Andreas Sacerdos, ' in Graecis
et Latinis sermonibus virilis; ' and Ambrosius Beffius, ' in Latinis Uteris
et Graecis eruditus.' Murat. Hist. Ital. p. 874, 5.
'^ Goddess of Wisdom ! here thy temple was,
And is, despite of war and wasting fire; —
But worse than steel, and flame, and ages slow.
Is the dread sceptre and dominion dire
Of men, who never felt the sacred glow
That thoughts of thee and thine on polish'd breasts bestow.
Childe Harold, cant. 2.
OF LATIN
LITERA-
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES, I59
A visible progress appeared in England after these CHap.
pilgrimages had become common, increasing, as the ^^^
crusades increased the intercourse with Constan- revival
tinople and the East. So great indeed became the
enthusiasm for learning, among the Anglo-Normans, ture
that besides the cathedral and conventual schools, nor^ian'^
others arose in many parts of the country ; ''' and as ^o^quest,
soon as the improvement of the scholars had ex- increase
hausted the knowledge of their instructors, they for^s^tlfd'"
became emulous of travelling to other countries,
wherever teachers of celebrity were established, or
new subjects of study appeared,"
The first students were the clergy ; but the passion its high
for literature spread soon beyond them. The wisdom Patronage,
of the Conqueror procured for his son Henry the
best education ofthe day. This prince deserved his
surname of Fine-scholar, for he became so fond of
letters, that neither wars nor the cares of state could
shake them from his mind.'" His first queen, Mathildaj
cultivaited them ;" and the books addressed to the
" bel Alice," his second, attest her attainments.'^ His
natural son, the count of Gloucester, so distinguished
for his struggles in behalf of his sister, against Ste
phen, was ardent both as a student and a patron.
His friend Malmsbury says, that he made his studies
a part of his glory ; that he befriended and conversed
'* Stephanides mentions three principal schools of celebrity in London,
in Becket's youth, p. 4. And that many were elsewhere we may infer,
from the order of the Synod of Westminster, in 1 1 38, That if the masters
of schools permitted others to hold such seminaries, tbey should not exact
any profit from them. Chron. Gervas, p, 1348. ed.T^VySd, — Ingulf says
he studied at Westminster and Oxford, p. 73.
" Becket went to Bologne to study the civil law. Steph, p. 12. Many
Englishmen went to Paris, when the teachers there became eminent.
Leiand, in his de Script, Brit, v, 1, gives several instances. We have the
-verses of one scholar of this time, still extant, recommending his friend
to visit Paris, '
« Malmsb, 155; ^^ Ib. 164.
f' See Philippa-du Than, mentioned hereafter.
HISTORYOF
ENGLAND.
160 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK with men of letters, even tho poor and obscure,'" that
^^- he so earnestly cultivated his intellectual taste, that
LITERARY cvcu wlicu surroundcd with the most disquieting oc
cupations, he always seized some hours in which he
read to himself, or heard others read.*" Patronage
became fashionable. Osmund, the bishop of Sherr
born, not only collected a large library, but he re
ceived with great liberality every ecclesiastic that was
distinguished for learning, and persuaded theni. to
reside with him."
Church Many persons contributed to the general progress,
J^^?j™"'" by assiduously forming libraries;'" and the spirit
copies, arose in the monasteries, of educating the younger
monks to the habit of neat and correct writing, that
the copies of authors works might be multiplied.
Without this happy practice, the progress of litera
ture must have been confined to a few individuals,
because the cost of books was enormous ; and their
use in the great libraries was much restricted, oi^
account of their value. Even, the prelates were
not weary of transcribing.*' As the transcripts mul
tiplied, the permission to inspect them was more
liberally conceded, and their diffusion extended."*
^ Malmsb, p. 6.
*" Ib. p. 174. " Ib. 250.
*" Thus the abbots menrioned by Matt. Paris, Hist. Abb. Alb. p, 64. —
Croyland library, at the time of its fire in 1091, had 300 volumina ori-
ginalia, and above 400 minora volumina. Ing. p. 98,
*' Thus the bishop of Sherborn, nee scribere nee scriptos legare fasti-
deret. Malm. p. 250. — Hugo Candidus has left us a very respectable
list of the books which Benedict, the abbot of Peterborough, had written,
who was chosen 1 177. Hist. p. 99.
** Ingulf gives us a specimen of their rules on this point : ' We forbad,
under the penalty of excommunication, the lending of our books, as well
the smaller without pictures, as the larger with pictures, to distant
schools, without the abbot's leave, and his certain knowlege within what
time they would be restored. As to the smaller books, as Psalteries,
Donatus, Cato, et similibus, poeticis ac quaternus de cantu, adapted to the
boys, and the relati<)ns of the monks, &c. we forbad them to be lent for
above one day, without leave of the prior, pp, 104, 105,
OF LATIN
LITERA-
AFTER THE
NORMAN
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 101
We have an instance of an individual's patriotic ex- chap.
ertion in this respect, in Simon of St. Albans, who ^'^•
from his own taste maintained liberally two or three revival
select writers in his chamber, where he prepared,
says the authority, an invaluable plenty of the best ture
books. He made it a rule in his monastery that every
future abbot should always keep a good writer.*' conquest,
The scriptorial taste of the eleventh and twelfth cen
turies, is manifested by the general beauty ofthe writ
ing of their manuscripts which have survived to us.
The seeds of knowlege thus liberally sown after ignoranc»
the middle of the eleventh century, sprang up to a j?'^'""?,
fertile harvest in the next, and especially after ver- able.
nacular compositions appeared. The great not only
patronised the students, but excited them to exert
their talents in composition. Thus the count of
Gloucester desired Malmsbury to write his History ;*^
and the bishop of Lincoln induced Henry of Hunt'
ingdon to compile his Annals.*'^ Literary pursuits
becoming a source of distinction and preferment, all
ranks caught the flame. And when the vernacular
literature, which we are about to notice, became dif
fused, knowlege no longer pined in solitary gloom
within the cells of a cloister or the walls of a school ;
it was invited to adorn the hall of the baron, the
chamber of the lady, and the court of the prince.
The sturdy knight began to find his iron mail and
trophied lance an insufficient distinction. To win the
Smile he valued, and to maintain the reputation he
had acquired, he found it necessary to emulate some
of the studies of the churchman. Even the ladies of
the great not only learnt to read and judge, but some
" Matt. Paris, Abb. Alb. p. 93. « Malm. p. 174.
" Hen. Hunt, p. 296.
Vol. IV, M
162
BOOK VI.
lterary historyof
ENGLAND,
First pro
duce ofthe
Anglo- Norman
literatiire.
Latinlanguage attained.
HISTORY OF, ENGLAND,
females also to write.** After the twelfth century,
ignorance became discreditable, the mark of a bar
barous country, a vulgar origin, or a degraded taste.
Pope Adrian, an Englishman, and the only English
man that has reached the papal chair, found the de
ficiencies of his mind a bar to his preferment, for
he was rejected at St. Albans, for want of suffi
cient learning. His becomina: pride felt the shame
of the rebuke ; he went to Paris, and labored inde-
fatigably till he excelled his fellow students.*®
But what was the first produce' of this studious
enthusiasm? The knowlege of the, Latin language
became general in the monasteries ; the Latin classics
were familiarized to the Anglo-Norman mind ; Latin
versifiers abounded ; and the knowlege of ancient
Rome was transplanted into Britain.
To have attained these instruments of improve
ment, was to have made an important advance. The
Latin language is now as much of ornament as utility ;
but it was then the only key to intellectual instruc
tion. The vernacular languages of Europe at that
time contained, besides some necessary but rude
legislation, and a few wild tales or wilder traditions,
little else than their native poetry — an artificial chain
of sounds, with imperfect melody, penurious mean
ing, barbarous feelings, and rarely with any percep
tible utility. All that it was meliorating or valuable
to know, was in Latin or Greek; and as, by a happy
prejudice, permitted to continue by Providence for
its usefulness, the religious services of the church
were kept in the Latin language, the clergy of
*^ Heloisa, in her letters to Abelard, displays great cultivation of mind.
Marie, in her lays, equals any of her contemporaries, in the easy flow of
her versification, and the spirit of some of her descriptions,
" Matt, Paris. Alb. Abb. p, 66.
OF LATIN
LITERA-
AFTER THE
NORMAN
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 163
every Christian country were compefled to acquire CHAP.
it, for it was found that if they did not, they ridi- _^
culously mispronounced it.'" Thus made general revival
from technical necessity, it was found convenient
as an universal language, in which the students ^"''^
and writers of every part of Europe could commu
nicate with each other ; it became the language of conquest.
their correspondence, as well as of their composi
tions ; and from the unceasing importance of the
acquisition, grammar, or the art of understanding
and writing Latin correctly, was the earliest and the
most common study of all the schools we have
alluded to. Priscian and Donatus were the masters
resorted to; and from this custom, the merry priest
Walter Mapes derives the image by which he per
sonifies grammar, in his satire on misused learning :
" Here is Priscian giving stripes to the hands.""
The castigation, however general, was not always
availing ; for even Priscian, with all the activity of
his ferula, could not make some minds recollect
either the cases or the conjugations.'* But a very
" As in the well-known mumpsimus for sumpsimus. Even a pope could
be so ignorant of Latin, as to write — ' eorumque novilissimis suivoles —
una cum indiculum — una cum omnes benebentani,' This occurs in a
letterof Adrian I. Murat. Ant. Ital. p. 811.
" This poem is called the Apocalypsis, Golyae Episcopi. It is a MS.
in the British Museum, HarhLib. No. 978, He fancies that, as he is
lying in a grove, he sees the form of Pythagoras standing before him, but
bearing all the sciences about him, in.this strange guise —
In fronte micuit arsAstrologica;
Dentium seriem regit Grammatica ;
In lingua pulchrius vernat Rhetorica ;
Concussis ?estuat in labiis Logica ;
In Arithmetica digitis socia ;
In cava Musica ludit articula ;
Fallens in oculis stat Geometrica; —
In tergo scriptEe sunt Artes Mechanicas, .
" Giraldus Cambrensis furnishes us with an instance of this sort, in
the old hermit his friend, who would say Noli, for nolo ; Vana, for vanum ;
and the infinitive active, for the infinitive passive, Giraldus de se^estis.
Anglia Sacra, v. 2, p, 497,
164 HISTORY OE ENGLAND,
.BOOK high degree not only of precision, but even of ele-
^^' gance, was attained by a few. The fabulous history
LITERARY of J cffiy dlsplaycd a command of Latin style, which,
ENGLAND.^ aided by its subject, gave it a rapid circulation over
* — " — ' Europe. The miscellaneous Essays of John of Salis
bury deserve and have received, even from distant
nations, a lavish commendation," William of Malms
bury, with his eye fixed on the Roman historians, has
left us a work, which, tho no rival of his avowed
models, nor equal in style to that of Saxo-Gramma-
ticus, almost his contemporary, yet is superior in
composition to the annahsts of his age, and to any
preceding historian since the classical , authors.'*
Anselm has also a lucid neatness of diction, which
even now may be read with pleasure and advantage."
Latin Ver- ; The reputation of good poetry is so great, that ad-
si ers. venturers for the Parnassian laurel are never wanting-.
To write Latin verses became a favorite employment
with the monks. Almost every author was ambitious
to excel in this harmless toil. It would be as absurd
to dignify their compositions, as our college exercises,
with the name of poetry ; they were merely speci--
mens of their attainments of the Latin grammar and
Latin prosody. But the practice ensured the preser-
" His chief works are the De nugis Curialium, and the Metalogicon.
Stephanius often quotes him, in his notes on Saxo, and with these eulo-
giums : — aureus scriptor — eleganter ut omnia — auctor cum veterum quo-
piain comparandus. p. 151 and p. 2.
** His de Gestis Reguin Anglorum extends from Hengist to Henry I.
in five books. His Historiae Novells, in two more, pursues our history
to the escape of the empress Matilda from Oxford. He wrote five others
on the prelates of England.
« His Monologium, or Metaphysical Conteraplarions on the Essence
ofthe Deity," written at the request of his friends, who admired his spe
culations; and his Prosologion, a chain of reasoning composed on the
solicitations of others, who wished that some one argument might be
found to prove the divine existence; are interesting treatises, which do
credit to his Latin diction.
OF LATIN
LITERA-
AFTER THE
NORMAN
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 1G5
vat'iOn and the study of the great classical authors, CHAP,
and was perpetually operating to create a good poe- ^^'
tical taste. Joseph of Exeter indeed surprises us by revival
a versification, In his poem on the Trojan War, which
reads almost classical;" and Jeffry of Monmouth "^'^^^
attained a smoothness and fluency in his poetical
diction, which Mflton has condescended to notice.'^ conquest.
The jocose poetry of Walter Mapes is also free and
voluble, and sometimes happy, tho he attempts to
bend the majesty of the Roman diction to the rhymes
and cadence of our popular poetry. His chief merits
were, good sense, good humor, and some useful
satire. These vital qualities tempt us to forget his
bacchanalian jovialities.'*
^ It contains, in six books, 363O good hexameters^ but not always,
good taste, as witness — ¦
Nox fera, nox vera, nox noxia, turbida tristis,
Insidiosa, ferox, tragicis ululanda cothurnis,
Aut satyra rodenda gravi. — I. 6. v. 760.
It is printed at the end of the Dictys Cretensis, and Dares Phrygius, in
the edition of Amsterdam 1702, He also wrote a poem on the crusades,
called the Antiocheis, of which only a few lines on Arthur have beeiv
preserved. " Milton, in his History of England, says of the verses which Jeffi'y
inserted in bis History, ' They are much better than for his age, unless
perhaps Joseph of Exeter, the only smooth poet of the times, befriended
him.' Milton seems not to have known Jeffry's poem on the life of
Merlin, which is in MS. in the British Museum. Cotton Lib. Vespasian
E 4. Tbe passages quoted from this MS. in the vindication of the ancient
British poets, will be found smooth and fluent. Mr. Ellis has given a
copious account of its contents, in his Specimen of ancient Romances,
vol. I.
'' Camden has printed, in his Remains, Mapes' verses on Wine, and
on the lives, of the Clergy. In the British Museum, both in the Harleian
and King's Library, are many of his MS. poems. His mirth is not always
pure, but his satire is usually good humored, and the free spirit of liis
muse announces the improving spirit of his country. — His critique on the
ancient authors is worth preserving :
Hie Friscianus est dans palmis verbera
Est Aristoteles verberans aera.
Verborum Tullius demulcet aspera.
Pert Ptolomeus se totum in sidera,
Tractat Boetius innuraerabilia.
Metitur Euclides locorum spatia,
M 3
166 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK Other authors among us displayed no inconsider-
, '_ able power of arranging their dactyles and spondees
LiTEiiARY into plausible imitations of the classical metres. To
ENGLAND, noticfe all, when the crowd was so great, would be
' """^ ' absurd ; it will be sufficient to niention twd, from
the importance of their subjects. One was Geoffrey
Vinesauf, the friend, companion, and encomiast of
our Richard I. who attempted to teach his contempo
raries the art of poetry, or criticism, in Latin verse.'*
He treats on invention and memory, on the ornaments
ofthe style, and the disposition oif the thoughts; hei
explains the tropes and figures of poetry, and dilates
on the description, the prosopopeia and the apos
trophe. He is even bold enough to attempt by his
own example to strengthen all hi& laws; tho his la^
mentation on his king, and its apostrophe on Friday,
the day on which Richard fell, may induce us td
prefer his criticism to his _poetry.''°
The Anti-Claudianus of Alanus de Insulis,*" who is
perhaps better known as the commentator on our
Merlin, than as a poet, treats on the seven arts and
Frequens Pythagoras pulsat fabrilia.
Traxita malleis vocum primordia.
Lucanum video ducem bellantium.
Formantem aereas muscas Virgilium.
Pascentem fabgilis turbas Ovidium,
Nudantem satiros^dicajCes Ferseumv
Incomparabilis est Statins statio.
Cujus detinuit res comparatio.'
Saltat Terenrius plebeius ystro. — Harl. MS. 978.
•s It is entitled, De Arte Dictandi, or De Nova Poetica. It is in the
British Museum, Cott. MS. Cleop. B. 6, pp. 1-30 ; where it is followed
by another work on prose, intermixed with verse, on the same subject, —
His History of Richard's expedition to Palestine has been already noticed,
'" O Veneris lacrimosa dies ! O sidus amarum ! '
Ilia dies tua nox fuit, et Venus ilia Venenura,
Illadedit vulnusl Bromtoil Chron, 1280.
°' It is in the Cott, MS. above mentioned, Cleop. B 6.— It is not clear
whether this Alan was an Englishman or not. An account of his life and
writings may be read in Tanner's very useful Bibliotheca Monastica, p, 16.
DURING THE MIDDLE aCES. 167
sciences, and morals, with great fluency of versifica- 'Jj^^
tion, and some good precepts. He was certainly — L
a man of talent, and has left another singular work "f^V^..^'^
' ° , OF LATIN
in his ' Doctrinale Altum.' This is also called his litera-
' Parabolarum." It is a series of moral aphorisms, ^^fterthe
in six books."^ Each remark is preceded by some normanCONOUFSX
natural image or simile, not unlike the Gorwynion of > — -. — '>
the old Welsh bard, Llywarch Hen. The first book fim^^;
gives two lines to the remark and its imagerical intro
duction; and these, in every succeeding book, are
expanded by two additional lines above the number
of those preceding. As I have never seen the work
quoted, the notes will contain some specimens of the
four first books.*' But if these and innumerable others,
''' Ofthe two copies I have seen, one was printed atDaventry in 1494;
and the other, without a date, at Cologne, with a prose commentary.'
^^ The Parables in the first book are an hexameter and a pentameter;
Clarior est solito post maxima nubila Phoebus,
Post inimicitias clarior esset amor.
Loricam duram possunt penetrare sagittae.
Sic cor derisum et mala verba meum,
Fragrantes vicena rosas curtica perUrit.
Et Justus semper turbat iniquus homo,
Ictibus undarum rupes immota resistit,
Et bonus, assiduis fluctibus, omnis homo.
Non possum cohibere canem quin latrat ubique :
Nee queo mendaci claudere labra viro.
In the second book each reflection is increased to four lines, thus : —
Non possunt habitare simul contraria, cum sint
Mors et vita, Procul decedet hseC ab ea.
Sic duo sunt quae non possunt intrare cor unum,
Vanus amor muiidi, verus amorque Dei,
Apparet et fantasma viris ; sed rursus ab illis
Vertitur in nihilum, quod fuit ante nihil.
Sic adest et abest fugitivi gloria census :
Non prius adventat quod quasi fuinus eat.
In the third book six lines are devoted to each thought, as this judi
cious one on flogging : —
Diversis diversa valent medicamina morbis :
Ut variant morbi, sic variantur ea.
M 4
HISTORYOF ENGLAND
188 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK who tried the Cynthian lyre, have not increased our
^^' catalogue of good Latin poetry, they certainly im-
LiTERARY proved and stimulated the intellect of their contem
poraries, and circulated an attachment to the ancient
classics, by which the general taste was benefited
when other studies came into fashion.
It would exceed both the limit and object of this
Work, to detail, in regular catalogue, the ecclesiastical
writers who filled the middle ages with Latin verse or
prose.*^ That respectable mediocrity of mind, which
the Latin literature is well adapted to produce, was
the attainment of the best. From this moderate level
Non uno, doctrina mndo se mentibus infert.
His timor: his monitus, his adhibetur amor.
Quadrupes adaquare nequis, dum percutis illos.
Nee cogit pueios Virga studere rudes.
Another attempts Satire:
Ridiculus mus est qui muribusimperat, et qui
-Tanquam rex horum sic dominatur eis.
Non minor est risus de servo, quando levatur
In dominum : quando voce, manu ferit,
Asperius nihil est humili ; dum surgit in altum
Pingitur in celso, Simi^, sede sedens.
The fourth book exhibits his Parables, expressed in eight lines. The
following is very pretty : *
Non omnjs socius fidus est. Non omne fidele
Pectus. Non omni me sociare volo.
Cui sooins volet esse mens, non alter et idem
Fiat ego : qui non est satis alter ego
-Non teneo socium. Qui scit.quod nescio, vel qui
Id, quod non habeo, me preter illud hiibet.
Cum socio socius deliberat omnia doctus
Cum sibi concordant consona corda duo.
In the fifth book each idea has ten lines devoted to it ; and in the
sixth, twelve,
'^ Some of these will be noticed in our subsequent observations on the
rhymed Latin poetry, Leiand, Tanner, Ball, Pitts, Fabricius, and Leyser,
will give abundant infinination. The greater number of the versifiers
were satisfied with their hexameters and pentameters without rhyme. I ob
serve that very few endeavored to imitate Horace, — The British Museum
contains, in hexam'eters and pentameters. The Monita Moralia of Ni-
gellus Wireker, addressed to the Chancellor of Richard I. MS, Cott,
Julius, A 7. — Also a poem of 2720 flowing lines, on the Life of St. Albans;
with much Scripture history intermixed, written by Robert of Dunstable,
about 1150. MS. Cott. Julius, D 3.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES 169
Others descended, in varying degrees, to the humblest chap.
dulness. In reading a few, you exhaust the scanty ^^-
ideas of all, and you desire to read no more. But this revival
was not the fault of their talent, but of their instruc- "jte.^""
tion ; their minds were new soil, fit for the most "atuhe
vigorous vegetation; but the Latin literature that was nor^man"^
transplanted into them, was composed of the flower- conquest.
ing, not the fruitful plants. Our ancestors produced
as much from it as the later Romans had done ; its
unprolific nature forbad a better harvest.
In characterising our writers of the middle age as Estimation
dull and unimproving now, I do not wish to be under- {jftelkctual
stood to depreciate their contemporary utility ; in the utility.
commencement of mental culture, such literature must
occur, and it does not occur unprofitably. The literary
improvements of every country slowly and gradually
accumulate; myriads of minds must labor, and a
great proportion must give diction and publicity to
the fruits of their secret toil, before a large population
can be visibly benefited. To suit the various circum
stances and tempers of mankind, numerous must be
the paths of the studious, ana very diversified their
produce. No labourer in this great field is useless or
unimportant ; the meanest effort will find some in
dividual, whose humble capacity is assisted by the
tribute ; and till inferior cultivators have brought the
soil into a state fit for a nobler harvest, the sublimer
intellects cannot appear, or would operate, if they
did, with inconsiderable effect. Hence, altho our
early history presents to us a crowd of Latin students,
whose writings we have long consigned to oblivion,
a,nd whose names we disturb only to deride; yet they
bave all been, in variouis degrees, benefactors to so-
170 BOOK VI.
LITERARY'
HISTOllYOF ENGLAND.Valuable chronicles
, of the
Anglo- Normanmonks.
HISTORY OE ENGLAND,
ciety : they were the laborious teachers of absolute
ignorance, which their tuition removed ; and it is the
success of their labors in improving their country
men, which has made their services forgotten.
The most valuable part of the Anglo-Norman
Latin literature was the annals, 'chronicles, and his
tories, composed by the monks; works indeed so in
variably associated with our habitual contempt, that
it may be thought absurd to praise them here. To
the graces of style they have certainly no pretensions;
if they had, they might, like Saxo-Grammaticus, have
been historically worthless. With the charms of order;
the powers of forcible description, the use of profound
reflection, or the art of intellectual criticism, they
were entirely unacquainted. The superstitious legend
they delighted to detail, for they sincerely believed
it; they never omitted a rumored prodigy, and were
ever ready tx» exaggerate an extraordinary natural
phenomenon. With these defects, what then was their
value? The- simple habit of plainly annalizing the
main facts of history that occurred. Such a series of
regular chronology and true incident ; such faithful,
clear and ample materials for authentic history, had
scarcely appeared before : nothing could be more
contemptible as compositions; nothing could be more
satisfactory as authorities^ Their simplicity was ad
vantageous to their-veracity ; and when the monastic
habit of composing them ceased, their place was but
poorly supplied' by the loquacious lay-chroniclers,
balf romances, at least in their dress, which succeeded.
It is easy to separate their legends from their facts ;
and perhaps the modern use of certain and correct
chronology may be ascribed to their precise habit,
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES, if I
of always dating the years of the events which they CHAP.
record.*^ _^
But the Latin literature which was cultivated after
Lanfranc, was rather useful in beginning a literary
taste in England, and in forming those men who
deviated afterWai-ds into other studies, than for its
own intrinsic and productive affluence. However
valuable the best Latin classics willbe to all ages, Limited
for their taste, their chastised beauties of style, their "he Roman
eloquence, and their occasional good sense, they do classics;
not impart, because they do not contain, any large
funds of knowlege, great originality of thought, or
important associations of ideas : they are bnt the
best Grecian classics re-appearing, with augmented
judgment and some variety of features, in a new lan
guage. Science the Romans never valued, nor much
" Of these, some of the principal are,-^
Ingulf who ends - - - - a. D. logi
Petrus Blessensls, continued it to - - 1118
Florence of Worcester -- - - 1117
Continued to^ - - - II41
Henry of Hutingdon . - . 1154
Simeon of Durham - - - - 1130
Hoveden ------ 1202
Eadmer . . - . , 1122
Matthew Paris - - - - - 1259
Rishanger's Continuation to - - - 1273
Gervas ------- 1200
William of Malmsbury - - - - 1 143
Alured of Beverly - - - 1129
Bromton, about - - - * - 1200
Cron. Petri-burgi •- ¦, ¦ - • - 1259
Continued, by Rob. Boston, to - - 1368
William of NewborougH ~ . - - 1 197
Ralph de dicetOj about - - , - - 1 200
Benedict Abbas - - ... . 1192
Thomas Wikes .... - 1304
Annals of Waverly . - . . 1291
Matthew of Westminster _ - - 1.307
As in every monastery there was some curious mind, fond of noting th6
great incidents of his day, every country in Europe has such chronicles.
But I think with Dr. Henry, that, upon the whole, our annalists are
superior to those of any other nation, at this period.
HISTORYOF ENGLAND,
172 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK understood. Mathematical studies, the proudest part
of Grecian knowlege, were never popular in Greece
LITERARY itself, and scarcely visited Italy."®^ All the natural
history and philosophy which could be collected
within the precincts of the Roman empire, in its
largest circle, and from the labors of anterior time,
Pliny embodied in his work. His countrymen never
increased his store, and scanty is its amount ! And
it was applied both by Pliny and Lucretius, and by
those who afterwards studied it from them, to esta^
blish the system of Epicurus, which pushed the
Divine Creator out of nature.*"^ The Latin poets
that convey useful instruction to posterity, are not
more numerous than their dramatists. Their his
torians, together with Cicero, Seneca, Quintilian,
and Epictetus, exhibit the intellects most serviceable
to future ages ; but even these, like the Latin fathers,
with their superior topics, are not afllluent in extensive
knowlege, and are insufficient to create a vigorous
original mind* It is one thing to please a cultivated
^ Theodoric, in bis letter to- Boetius, cominends him, because, by his
translations, the Italians could read Pythagoras on Music, Ptolemy on
Astronomy, Euclid on Geometry, -Nichomachus on Arithmetic, and
Archimedes on Mechanics. He adds, 'Whatever disciplinae or arts,
fruitful Greece has -produced, - by you, uno auctore, Rome has received
into her vernacular language,' Yet Boetius did not live till the sixth
century; ^ It is a. remarkable fact, which we learn from Quintilian (1. 12.) that
Epicurus directed his disciples to avoid the study of the sciences. This in
junction was fatal to their intellectual progress, as indeed all his leading
doctrines were. Hence, tho he- was temperate, his followers, pursuing his
principles to their natural consequences, became mere sensualists. Lac-
tautius says, that his sect became far more popular than others, Div.
Inst. 1. 3. c. 17. Yet during his lifetime he was unknown and almost
unattended. Seneca, ep,.79. Jt is Lucretius that so extravagantly ex
tols him, for having been- the first to-assert that no part ofthe world was
created, and for trying so feebly to explain its origin without a Deity :
and who first made him popular in Rome, by writing his poem in praise
of his system, at the critical moment when the mercenary luxury, pride,
ambition and individual selfishness of degenerating Romans made them
eager to believe that there was no superior power in the universe to con
trol their conduct, or to make them responsible for it.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 173
taste, it is another thing to instruct, enlarge and ad- chap.
vance. The scholar will feast on the Virgilian graces ; J^
but they alone would leave the young student almost revival
as barren and as ignorant as they found him ; his L^TERr-''
mental growth demands more substantial and more '^j^e
¦affluent, tho coarser, nutriment; and if he be con- norman
fined to the diet ofthe Roman classics, he will not be ^^^^^jest.
more informed nor more productive than the authors
we are considering.
Hence, when the Anglo-Saxons, Normans, Franks, and of
and other Gothic nations, had transplanted into their ancient
own, all the Roman mind which Its writers had per- imitators.
petuated ; tho their scholars, thus far accomplished,
learned to write Latin, often with elegance and cor
rect prosody, and acquired from it a cultivation which
made them like moons in a benighted age, yet their
borrowed light spread but feebly around them, and
was not transmissible to future times. Aldhelm, Bede,
Alcuin, Erigena, Lanfranc, Anselm, Iscanus, Jeffry,
Becket, John of Salisbury, and many, others of a si
milar class, altho displaying the utmost improvement
of mind, which an education formed on the Roman
literature could impart, and not Inferior in native
talent to any Roman writer of the later periods of the
empire ; yet are so inferior to our ideas of excellence,
and so deficient in our accumulated knowlege, that
their best compositions we think of with disdain, and
never deign to unfold.
The trivium aud quadrivium — the terms within Tjie tri-
* 1 • 1 1 • r \ -in • 1 ' vium and
which the sciences ot the middle age were comprised quadri-
— awake our contempt the moment they occur, be- ^'"'°*
cause they recall the image of barbarian ages, and
seem to be the drivelling pedantry of barbarian igno
rance. But let our ancestors have theirproper merit:
174 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK altho to us they are pigniies, they were not so to their
^^- predecessors. The studies implied by these two
literary monastic vocables, and in the two jargon hexameters
EMLAND.'' *^^* define the subjects they comprised,^ conveyed
^ — ^ — ' all that the Romans knew, cultivated or taught.
They comprised the whole encyclopedia of the an
cient knowlege. The books ^from which they were
learnt, were the best treatises which the Roman em
pire possessed upon them. Confined indeed-was the
knowlege they conveyed ; and. our emulous fore
fathers were but feeble thinkers, when they iad mas
tered th^m all ; but in possessing themselves of these,
they acquired the knowlege which their. Roman
teachers had enjoyed. When they had finished the
circuit of .the trivium and quadrivium, they had
transferred all the intellect of the Roman empire into
their own; and if knowlege be the criterion of their
merit, the. good scholars of the twelfth and thirteenth
centuries were not inferior to those of Rome after the
age of Tacitiis and Quintilian. In taste and elegance,
and polished geniuSj it would be absurd to compare
them with the ornaments of the Augustan age ; but
these authors were in the third century beyond the
approach of their own countrymen ; and it is there
fore no disgrace to the middleages, that their infe
riority was not dissimilar.
Improved The truth sccms to be, that the classical minds
'"'^formed whom wc are accustomed to venerate, were not
by study fotmed merely from the literature that preceded them,
but from the general intellect, business, conversation,
and pursuits of their day. It is a mistake to imagine
that a man of great intellectual eminence is made
"* Gramra. loquitur; Dia. vera docet; Rhet. verba colorat:
Mus, canit.; Af, numerat; Geo. pbnderat; Ast^ colli astra.
not by !
only,
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 175
only from his library ; he is the creature of the im- C H A P.
provement of society about him, reflecting upon him ^^-
the rays of a thousand minds, and pouring into him revival
information from a thousand quarters ; . every hour °^teb".''
his understanding, if it has the capacity, is insensibly '^"^e
directed, enriched and exercised, by the knowlege norman
and talent that is every where breathing, acting and ^^^^^^^
conferring around him ; his mind expands, without
his own consciousness of its enlargement ; bis ideas
multiply independently of his will; his judgment rec
tifies; his moral or political wisdom increases with
his experience; and he becomes at last a model im
perceptibly benefiting others, as he has benefited
himself Thus Cicero, Tacitus, andThucydides, were formed, Literature
as well as Scipio, Epaminondas, and Caesar. But as declines
soon as moral and political degeneracy had withered society de-
the Roman mind, and voluptuousness had corrupted g^"^'^^'^''.
it, the Intellectual tone and affluence of their improved
society ceased.®^ Instead of that cultivated aijd ac
tive talent, which, from the Letters of TuUy, we see
that at least some high-minded Romans once posi
sessed, a debased, sordid, sensual, illiterate mind ap^
peared, valuing nothing butababbling rhetoric, which
might from an age of imbecility procure food for its
vanity, or minister tb its selfishness. Such a state of
intellect and literature, our Gothic ancestors found
in the Roman provinces, which they subdued ; and
tho they at last collected into their libraries the woi^ks
of the nobler minds of this deteriorated race, yet the
books without the living education benefited little ;
"" Cicero, in a fine passage, which lord Bacon has cited, distinguishes
the ancient Romans as transcending all other nations in their steady love
of religion; and Poly bins ascribes the great corruption of Roman man
ners to their increasing disbelief of a future state.
176
BOOK VI.
literary
niSTORYOF ENGLAND.
Latin lite-
i-ature not
fitted for
popular in
struction.
HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
and unless new revolutions had disclosed new sources
of improvement, and created a new spirit of activity,
cultivation, discussion and thought, the human mind
would still have remained as dwarfed and barren, as
monotonous and feeble, as it was in all the writers
of the middle ages, who drank only at the fountains
of the Latin Muses.'^"
But the Roman literature, whatever be the amount
of its intrinsic merits, was manifestly insuflBcient for
the progress of the human intellect, from two other
circumstances — its limited diffusion, and its tendency
to prevent originality of thought.
As the Latin language was not the common lan
guage of society in England, its instructive operation
was confined to the monastic and clerical body. It
gave no .improvement to the nobleman, the knight,
the yeoman, the merchant, the vassal, or the burgher,
who could not understand it ; '' their ignorance re
mained undiminished. Amid all the seminaries of
study, they could know no more than their spiritual
guides cbose to impart ; and how scanty the dole of
knowlege from the papal hierarchy to the populace,
bas always been, not only the middle ages, but our
own times attest. If, then, the Latin literature had con
tinued to be the only study in England,the ecclesiastical
'" That England is not indebted to the Latin writers for its mathema.
tical knowlege, we may see from John of Salisbury, He says, that in
his time, the twelfth century, " Geometry is very little attended to
amongst us, and is only studied by some people in Spain, Egypt, and
Arabia, for the sake of astronomy." Metalog. I. 4. c. 6.
" That the nobility were unacquainted with Latin in the time of Henryll.
we find from the speech of the earl of Arundel to the Pope. He was one
of the commissioners sent by Henry, with some other great barons, and
several prelates, to the ponti6f. His mission would imply that the most
rnforraed nobles had been selected. The bishops made their address in
Latin, The earl then began in English, " My lord I what the bishops
have spoken to you, we illiterate laymen do not at all understand : We
will therefore tell you for Ourselves, whj we are sent," -Vita Becket,
1, 2, c. 9. p. 74.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. J77
bodies would have been so many Christian driiids; chap,
so many British bramins; the only informed portion _^
of an igrnorant community ; whom they would learn revival
to despise, from not condescending to enlighten ; litera-
whom, too anxious to govern, they would have de- ^^.J.'^^ ^
bilitated and degraded. norman
But the most injurious effect, from the exclusive or ^^^^^"^i
too long-continued study of the Latin literature, was
its tendency to preclude the evolution of genius, and
the formation of original thought.
It has been remarked, in the history of literature, Unfavor-
that great excellence has been usually followed by rise of
decline. No second Augustan age is found to occur. o'''g'"=>i
A Virgil emerges, and, as if his genius cast on his
countrymen an everlasting spell, no future Virgil
appears — no second Homer, or Euripides — no suc
ceeding Pindar, Horace, Demosthenes, Thucydides,
Tacitus, or Cicero. The fact is remarkable ; but it
is to be accounted for, not by a deficiency in the birth
of talent, but from its .subsequent destruction by in
judicious education.
It is in literature as in painting : if we study de
parted excellence too intently, we only imitate ; wd
extinguish genius, and sink below our models. If
we make ourselves but copyists, we become inferior
to those we copy. The exclusive or continual con
templation of preceding merit, contracts bur facul
ties within, and greatly within, its peculiar circlci
and makes even tbat degree of exceflence unattain
able, which we admire and feed upon : we become
mimics, instead of being competitors ; mannerists, in
stead of originals: we are enslaved by a despotism
from which we ought-to have revolted.
Whence arises this strange, but oft-experienced
Vol. IV. N
178 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK result? From the operation of the laws of habit.
^^' The peace and comfort and discipline of the world,
depend upon our susceptibility to their influence ;
but this influence is often a tyranny that deteriorates.
The length of application necessary to possess our
selves of the merit to which we devote our studies,
tends to limit our progress, to chain our excursive-
ness, and to mould our faculties and their produce
into an involuntary and dependent imitation of the.
models on which our attention is so continuously
exercised. If when the limbs are most flexible, we
are made to walk perpetually in a certain posture,
the attitude will be our gait for the rest of our lives.
While our ancestors studied no authors but the
Roman, the literary mind of England became roman-
ized, and nothing more. No original genius ap
peared. Our literature was a debased recoinage of
the Latin, as in Jeffry of Monmouth, Joseph of
Exeter, John of Salisbury, Malmsbury, and tbe other
writers, whose Latin compositions crowd the cata
logues of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries.
If there be no originality, there can be no improve
ment. If there be no deviation from existing habits,
there can be no progression. To be original, is to
escape from intellectual bondage and sterility, and
to acquire a possibility of being superior. Novelty is
an avenue to greater excellence : the enterprise may
be unproductive, but it has the chance of success.
Originality is not indeed always useful ; it may lead
to error and vice, as well as to truth and virtue ; or
rather, as wisdom is more rare than folly, the eccen
tricities of the human mind will be oftener connected
with mistake than with utility. But error leads ulti
mately to truth ; and is the penalty which human
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 179
weakness must pay to attain it. No false opinion CHAP.
can arise, but the vindictive feeling of existing habits ^^-
is zealous to correct it. Providence allows licen- revival
tiousness and despotism, prejudice and absurdity to literI'-^
conflict with each other, till they expire from their "^^^^
mutual wounds. Moderation then prevails from its norman
necessity. Thejudgment of society extracts from the ^^^J^sr.
opposing sentiments the good which they possess,
and consigns the evil to oblivion. But the discussion
puts the mind into activity, and the result carries
human knowlege one step forward ; the reason is
roused to look beyond its stationary habits, and new
perceptions of truth always follow new exertions and
new prospects. It is true, that in aiming to add new,
original views to the human mind, more writers in
sert into it new errors, than new truths. Men are
eager to dart from the known to the unknown ; and
to persuade themselves that they are the Columbuses
who are destined to explore and to reveal what has
been hidden to others. Hence new delusions and
new mischiefs will multiply around us by those who
fail ; even while great discoveries are attained by the
better reasoning or more fortunate inquirers. Yet
stfll tho individuals are injured by what deludes, the
general progress of society is advanced by the in
creasing spirit of investigation and improvement.
The Greek literature had but small influence in
England during the middle ages, because it was very
little known or cultivated. Yet some few attended to
it. In 1242, a Grecian priest had obtained a bene
fice at St. Albans, and his society produced or ac
celerated the study of it by our valuable bishop
Grostete, who, by his assistance, translated the Tes
tament of the twelve patriarchs from Greek into
HISTORYOF ENGLAND.
180 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK Latiii.'* But the papal dififerences witli the Gi-eek
^^" patriarch, and some points of the opinions and ritual
LITERARY of tlic Grcck church, kept tbe. clergy of Europe from
cultivating connexions with Greece, and from learn
ing its language." Hence the riches of its literature
remained unknown, and, because unknown, unva
lued; till the aggressions of the Turks on this longr
declining nation, which had for some time become
unworthy of its ancestors, roused a new sympathy In
the western world in their concerns, fate and; fugi
tives, which at length made the Grecian classics and
fathers a very general study."
" In the British Museum there is a MS. of this translation. Bib.
Reg. 4. D, 7, in the hand-writing of Matthew Paris, who has noted tliat
in 1242, the prelate made the translation, assisted by ' Clerico Newlao,
ab EcclesisE, B. Albani beiieficiato, natione, ex. educutione Griecus.' MS. ib.
" M. Paris states that in 1237, theinsolentia ofthe Greeks so exaspe
rated the Pope and all the church, that it was the opinion and wish of
many that an army of crusaders should have been directed against them,
P- 437-
" When in tbe year 1787 1 wrote the following lines, which were pub
lished as part of the ' Hermitage,' in 1809, I had no expectation that
I should have lived to have witnessed a revival of the ancient spirit, nor
ill this year 1829, to have seen accomplished the actual independence of
Greece, It was in noticing the blessings of constitutional liberty to
England, that I added this despairing passage :
Long has her spirit made our favor'd isle
With valor, reason, arts, and virtue smile.
In ancient days, far richer than the fleece,
She charm'd the regions of immortal Greece,
Alas, how fall'n I where now the Attic fire ?
The Spartan firmness, and Ionia's lyre ?
Dumb is that eloquence whose wond'rous flow,
High-cultur'd Athens! aw'd thy tyrant foe.
Fall'n are thy warriors ! fall'n thy pride of name!
Fall'n is thy freedom, and with that thy fame !
No more in marble breathes the sculptur'd life;
No wizard artist paints the patriot strife;
No Homer chants the battle's proud array ;
No patriot heroes emulate the lay :
No sages moralize thy youthful hearts ;
No genius from thy tomb, reviving, starts.
In slavish ignorance thy myriads trail.
Hear of their sires, and wonder at the tale' :
AFTER THE
NORMAN
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 181
At the time ofthe Norman conquest, originality of chap.
mind, of reasoning and feeling, was become indis- ^^-
pensable to human advancement ; the mind was in revival
chains and ignorance, and wanted both light and • "J'.j,^^Y_"
emancipation. By an admirable process, what was ture
SO much needed, was successively attained.
But the Latin literature most usefully preceded conquest.
and accompanied the new improvements. These
indeed could not have been acquired without it ; and
when disclosed, were beneficially pursued, watched,
directed, and disciplined by it. It would be absurd
to forget or deny our first benefactors.
The great intellectual want, after the Norman con- Vernacular
quest, was that of an original vernacular literature, ^^111^^^
which would interest and educate the general mind for the
of the.communlty; awaken its moral sympathies by improve-
narratlve, fiction, and useful poetry ; instruct it by '"*"'•
intelhgible pictures of life and manners ; bring the
natural feelings into activity; and guide the human
judgment to just determinations, and due apprecia
tions of probity, decorum, honor, and tbe family cha
rities of life, and that would connect acquired know
lege with the existing world. It was the complaint
of our great Alfred, that the learned Anglo-Saxons
who had preceded him, would not translate the
books they possessed, into their own language; and
from this reason, when they died, they left the nation
as ignorant as they found it." The learned Anglo-
Normans were as unsocial ; they mastered their Latin
Bask in the sun that warms their blood in vain,
Or crouch in fear before the turban'd train.
Oh ! till again thy sun of freedom rise.
And independence call to high emprize ;
No more thy children will awake the lyre.
Nor teach the world again to rival and admire,
" See Hist, Angl. Sax, v, 2, N 3
182 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK treasures, but they never made them the property
^^- of the public. That public, therefore, continued in
literary Egyptian darkness, although its cathedrals and mo-
ENcTrND,"^ .nasteries were illuminated.^* An attractive vernacular
^ — - — ' literature was the only vehicle of knowlege that
the courtier, the lady, or the world at large, could
comprehend. Popular instruction being thus wanted
for popular improvement, vernacular composition,
which all could understand, relish, study and imitate,
in which the natural feelings could easily express
themselves, and in which genius would find topics
and modes of originality, which the scholastic tram
mels suppressed — was that species of literature
which was most essential to the evolution and the
fertilization of the national mind. Poetry has the
honor of having first produced it in England. The
itinerant minstrels were the causing instruments, and
a part of the lettered clergy the first eflfective agents,
to introduce and diffuse it."
" The same has been remarked of Germany, as Duclos quotes from
J. Wahlius, whose words I will add : ' Accessit avaritia, sive ambitio
monachorum ac sacerdotum, qui cumcuram disciplinarum atque artium,
pessimo eorum saeculorum fato, inter claustra sua compegissent, studio
et industria diflScultatem horroremque linguie alebant, ut absterritis a
studio nobilibus, ipsi soli in aulis principum, eruditionis proemia et ho-
nores venditarent.' Mem. Ac. v. 26. p. 279.
" On the Anglo-Norman authors, who wrote in Latin, Tanner's Bibli
otheca Monastica, which makes Leiand its text, exhibits a copious cata
logue alphabetically arranged, and ample notices of their works. The
works of Bale and Pitts, on our ancient authors, contain the earlier
compilations. Dr. Henry's chapters, on the learning and the arts, are
worth reading. For a more enlarged view of the literature of Europe
during the middleages, Brucker, Muratori, and Tiraboschi, are of great
value. Landi's neat work, drawn from the latter, preserves the principal
circumstances in an intelligent style. The Italian Compendium, by
the abati L. Zenoni, presents Tii'aboschi to us with much taste and
judgment ; but it has no references, Mr. Berrington's History of the Lite
rature of the Middle Ages, may be also read with pleasure, tho it wants
a philosophical feeling. Guingene's Histoire Litteraire d'ltalie, and Sis-
mondi's Works, will amply rewai-d perusal. The French literati are now
publishing new works every year, on their ancient literature. Among
these, MM. Roquefort, Renouard, Auguis, La Rue, and La Ravalliere,
Depping, Prevost, and Meon, have recently distinguished themselves.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 103
KORMAN
JONGLEURS AND MIN
STRELS.
CHAP. in.
History ofthe Anglo-Norman Jongleurs and Minstrels.
In tracing the history of the vernacular poetry of anglo-
England, it will be useful first to consider the earliest
state of those men who began the cultivation of this
delightful art.
In civflized ages, the poet, the musician, fbe singer
and the actor, are distinct characters ; in the ruder
periods of nations, they have been usually united.
The aoidoi and rapsodoi of ancient Greece, the bards
of Wales, the harpers and gleemen of the Saxons,
the northern scalds, and the citharoedi ofthe Romans,
were itinerant performers, who combined the arts of
poetry, music, singing and gesticulation.'
After the Norman conquest, the same class of men,
with the same union of talents and performances,
were frequent in England and Normandy, and long
continued to be popular, under various denomina
tions.'' It is probable, that as their numbers multiplied
with the increasing population which favored them,
some division of these variously-qualified individuals
into distinct classes gradually took place. The com
poser would be more rare than the performer, and
the musician would become separated from the poet.
' Cassiodorus mentions a citbarcedus, ' learned in his art, who could
delight with his face and hands as well as by his voice.' Var. I. 3.
ep. 41. p. 64.
' Their Latin names are various — most commonly, histriones, jocula-
tores, scurra!, mimi. But John of Salisbury adds, saliares, balatrones,
Kmiliani, gladiatores, palestritae, gignadii, prEBStigiatores, malefici. De
nugis Curial, 1, 1, c, 8,
HISTORYOFENGLAND
184 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK These distinctions would be greater when part of
'_ their fraternities chose to exhibit as jesters and merry-
LiTERARY audrcws. In time, every means of popular excite
ment that could obtain gifts or good cheer, and could
be, in any way, connected with minstrelsy, was, to
its great abuse and degradation^ successively con
nected with it, till the profession became disreputable
by its mercenary immoralities.
In one of our earliest Anglo-Norman poems, we
find them spoken of as chantur, fableier, jangleres;
and menistre ; and their art is called janglerie.^ This
author, tho a rhymer himself, yet being an ecclesiastic,
he calls his itinerant brethren " the antichrist, per
verting the age by their merry jangles.'' * He accuses
them of getting the love of princes, and making them
and prelates go astray.' He even classes these jan-
gleors with liars, and declares that they will never
acquire honor,* and that they wilfully sport with
moral obligations and good sense.'^
' Sanson de Nanteuil, in his Rhymes on the Proverbs of Solomon, in
the British Museum, Harl. N° 4388, censures those who
— — aiment seculer
de lecheries de moiller
d'oir chantur et fableier —
et bevient vin de felonie
d'oir fables et janglerie.
The MS. from the autograph in one page, ' Jacobus rex Angliae,' appears
to have belonged to our James I.
' Come li menistre antecrist sunt
Ki per jangleis le secle veintrunt
de deu les partirunt anceis
parlur facunde e lor jangleis, — Ib.
^. Co redit de homejangleor .
Ke de princes depart I'amur.
Princes sunt evesques notd
Et prelat d'eglise orden^ —
Jangleres heom les fait irrer. — Ib.
* Jangleres hom ne menteor
Ne creistrunt ja a nul enor. — Ib.
¦'. Raisun e dreit part ne pot plus
li heom ki de jangler ad us
NORMAN
JONGLEURS
STRELS,
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES, 185
Another rhyming moralist, who has left us one of Chap.
our ancient Anglo-Norman poems, contemplates them ^^^'
with an eye as intolerant, even while practising him- anglo-
self the most important branch of their art, and wbich
their popular use must have contributed so much to fj„" J^'**"
improve, especially in its rhymes and rhythm. This
author, forgetting their intellectual relationship to
himself, seems to associate them in his mind with
living devils, and forbids us to make or to attend to
their romauns and fables.' By the phrases with which
he connects them, he afterwards puts their jougler
as attempting enchantment, and resembling sorcery
and negromancy." He gives them various names :
at one time, he speaks of luturs, and describes them.
as making lutes and motuns, and playing with
swords;" at another, time he calls them jougleours,
menestrans, ribaus, and chuffurs ; fools, to whom it
Jiigemeiit ne pot plus garder
Kar tot li tolt sen sor parler
Dreit tofne a tort par janglerie
Et tort a dreit par felonie. — Ib.
" Wilham de Wadigtoun, in his Manuel da Peche, MS, Harl, Lib,
N° 4657 & 337- Pechur sunt ceus chatifs
Bien le sachez a debles vifs
Romauns fables e chanceurs
Roteries e autres foiurs
fere neoir a teusjurs
Ne deit nule cum funt plusurs,
^ En sorceres ne an sorcerie
Gardez vous ke vous ne creez mie —
Cunter lur sorceries -
E menuement lur folies
Coe ne serroit fors jangler —
Si vous unkes par folie
Entre meistres de negromancie
Ov feistis al deble facfie
Ov enchantement par folie
Ov a gent de cele mester
Ren donastespur lur jougler.— Ib.
'" Sachent pur veir les luturs
Kylutes funt a tens jours
Motuns mectent ov esp6e pendent.— Ib.
HISTORYOFENGLAND.
186 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK was folly to be liberal." His phrases to express their
^^- performances also vary ; he sometimes calls it making
LITERARY miustralcle and noiser.** He notices other diversions
connected with their mirth ; but he condemns and pro
scribes them all," especially if performed in churches
or church-yards.'''
In the free translation of this work, in 1 303, by
Robert of Brunne, we find a more liberal feeling
implied. He condemns the singing and dancing ;
but it is when practised in church-yards, or on holy
days :" it is the accompanying the jogelours hasa-
doure or roture to the tavern, the devil's knife, which
he blames.** In mentioning minstrels, he takes an
opportunity of noticing how much the famous bishop
Grostete loved to hear the harp ; that night and days
" Si par foil argesce ren donastes
A ions malement le emplaiastes
Coe est a dire al jougleours
Menestrans, ribaus ou chuffurs. — lb.
" Sa raenestralcie yloke feseit
Cum en autre lus fere soleit—
le menestral oi noiser.
" Muses e teles musardies
Trepes, daunces, e teles folies —
Si funt cettes li menestral. — Ib,
" Karoles ne lutes ne deit nul fere
En seint eglise ky me voiit crere
Kar en cimitere karoler
Et outrage grant ou luter. — Ib.
" Roberd de Brunne dates his ' English Ryme' in 1 303.
Gyf you make karol or play
You halewyst not thyn balyday —
KaroUes, wrastlynges or somour games
Whosoever haunteth any swyche shames
Yn cherche other yn cherchgerd —
MS. Hari. N" 1701.
" Gyf thou eitbyr wyth jogeloure
With hasadoure or wyth roture
liauntysl taverne or were to any pere
to play at the ches or at the tablere —
Taverne ys the devylys knife
Hyt sletli the or soule or lyfe. — Ib.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES, 187
he had solace of notes and lays; and that he taught chap,
that the virtue of the harp was such as to destroy ^^l-
even the power of Satan." These alterations shew, anglo-
that the taste of the age had learnt to estimate poetry J'ong'leurs
and music more justly, and to discriminate between and min-
their merit and the consequences of their abuse- "trels.
Our old satirist, who assumes the name of Piers
Plouhman, is not so charitable. He treats with visi
ble contempt the "japers and juglers, and janglers of
gests." He describes them as haunters of taverns and
common alehouses, amusing the lower classes with
" myrth of mynstrelsy and losels tales." He brands
them as tutors of " idleness, and the devil's deseours,"
who make their hearers, " for love of tales, in taverns
to drink." He angrily declares, that "he is worse
than Judas, that giveth a japer silver." '*
The same venerable author gives us full informa
tion of the " mynstrales" in his day. They are no
ticed as playing on the tabret, the trumpet, the fiddle,
the pipe, and the harp ; as singing with the giterne,
dancing, leaping, and telling fair gestes." They
knew how to make mirth. They invented foul fan-
" He loved much to here the harpe
for mannys wytte hytmakyth sharpe
Neyr hys chaumbre besyde hys stody
His harpers chaumbre was fast therby
Many tymes be nygtys and dayys
He had solace of notes and layys
One asked hym onys resun why
He hadde delyte in mynstralsy
He answered hym on thys manere
Why he helde the harper so dere
The vertu of the harpe thurgh skylle and rygt
Wyl destoye the fenues mygt. — Ib.
" See the Visions of Piers Plouhman.
" Ich can nat tabre ne trompe ne telle faire gestes —
ne fithelyn at festes, ne harpen ;
Japen ne jagelyn, ne gentelliche pipe ;
nother sailen ne sautrien ne singe with the giterne, — Ib, p, 253.
HISTORYOFENGLAND
108 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK tasies,''" played the fool, told lies, and made men
^^ kugh." They were rewarded with robes and furred
LITERARY gowus, mautlcs and money.** The love of lords and
ladies presented them with gifts and gold.*^ Yet the
satirist unsparingly declares, that he who gave to
them, sacrificed to devils.**
It seems clear, from the accounts transmitted to us
concerning them, that they were not undeservedly
reprehended. Their obscene practices, and the pro
fligate effect of their tales, are mentioned by John of
Salisbury ; ** and as some of their contes have come
down to us, we can have no difficulty in perceiving
that while they were popular, the manners of society
must have been gross and immoral. Hence, altho the
more dissolute of the ecclesiastical body encouraged
and rewarded them,** the sounder part of society pur
sued thein with prohibitions and invectives, till they
— . — . — ' " t
^ And sommes mui-the to make as mynstrals conneth.
That wollen neyther swynke ne swete bote swery grete othes.
And fyijde up foul fantesyes and foles hem maken,
t And haven Witte at wylle to worche yf they wold.*
- _ " - Piers Plouhman, p, 3,
."' Those thre manere mynstrales maken a man to lauke
In'busdeth. — Ib.
• =2 Ich am a mynstrale —
And fewe robes ich fange other forrede gounes,
Wolde ich lye and do men lauke, theniie lachen ich shulde
Mantels other moneye among lords minstrales. — Ib. 253.
^ And alle manere mynstrales men wot wel the sot he —
For the lordes love and ladies that thei with lengen —
Gyven hem gyftes aqd gold. — Ib, 154.
" Qui histrionibus dat, demonibus sacrificat. — Ib.
'^ ' Adeo error invaluit, ut a prseclaris domibus non arceantur, etiam
illi qui obscEenis partibus corporis, oculis omnium, earn ingerunt turpidi-
nem quam erubescat videre vel cynicus.' — De nug. Cur. I 1. c. 8.
^ We have a remarkable instance of this, cited by M. Duclos in his
Memoire sur les jeux sceciques. Hist. Ac. Insc. t. 26. p.. 363. The
Statutes ofthe count of Thoulouse in 1233, state, that the monks at cer
tain seasons of the. year sold their wine witliin their monastery, and for a
small sum admitted or introduced personas turpes, inhonestas, viz. jocu-
latores, histriones, talorum lusores, et publicas meretrices, quod arctius
piqhibenius," See Dii Chesne, v, 3. p. 819.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 189
were at last driven from the more respectable walks CHAP.
of life to the lower orders. Their irregularities be-: '_
came then more rude and offensive, till their order anglo-
. „ . . NORMAN
expired amid the general contempt of an improving jongleurs
nation. ^''"' "'""
STRELS.
. They vvere however once so esteemed, that we read' ' — -^ — '
both of the king's minstrels and the queen's min
strels,*' and they had the dignity among the fraternity
called the King of the Minstrels.*® But their success
increased their depreciation ; for it excited others to
pursue the casual pleasures of a vagrant life under
the pretence of minstrelsy— a practice that became so
mischievous, as to occasion an order from Edward II.
that none should resort to the mansions of the pre
lates, earls, and barons, unless they were actually
minstrels.*® The minstrels usually travelled in companies, sing
ing every variety of lays, practising on all instru
ments of sound that were then known f and exerting
" P. Plouhman says —
Clerkus and knyghtes wolcometh kynges mynstrales
For love of here lordes lithen hem at feastes.
In the reign of Edward I. we find Guillos de Psalteron called a minsti-el
ofthe queen. Rot, Gard. p. 7.
=» He is mentioned in the 5 Edward I, in the MS, Cott. Vesp. c. 16.
^ See Edward's order, dated 1315, printed by Hearne, in his Leiand
Collect, vol, 6, p. 36. Their number is implied by this sentence : — ' And
of these minstrels that there come none except it be, three or four min
strels of the honor at the most in one day, unlesse be be desired of the
lord of the house.' — The penalties for offending were, ' at the firste tyme
he to lose his miustrelsie, and at the second tyme to forsweare his craft.'
'" Wace describes them at Arthur's banquet in some detail :
Mult ost a la cort jugleors,
Chanteors et rumentours.
Mult poissez oir chancons
Rotuenges, et voialx sons.
Vileors, lais et notez,
Lais de vieles, laiz de rotez;
Lais de harpezj laiz de fietalz,
Ljres, tempes, et chalemealx ; Sym-
HISTORYOF „„„;„j.„ 31
ENGLAND
190 HISTORY OP ENGLANP,
BOOK all the methods that fancy, frolic, and depravity had
^ invented to excite tbe attention, interest the feelings,
LiTECARY and stimulate the liberality of the different classes of
society." The traits already alluded to, are noticed
in many ancient authors. We find them sometimes
in a bishop's house, amusing him in his private life,
during his hours of repast, by playing on instruments
of music after he had said his grace ; '* or they were
admitted after the tables were removed, and even in
the presence of majesty, to furnish their addition to
the stately entertainment,^^ Sometimes relating tales,
pathetic or ludicrous ; sometimes diffusing flatteries
on the actions of the great ; they were every where
Symphoniez, psalterions ;
Monacors, des cymbes, chorons;
Assez i ot tregetours,
Joierresses et joicors. — Brut. MS.
See Mr. Ellis' comments on this passage, I Spec, Poet. p. 48.
" Ou the last stage ofthe minstrels, see the latter part of Mr. Ritson's
Dissert, on Romance and Minstrelsy, prefixed to his Metrical Romances,
vol, 1. ^' Ly eveske ses mains laveit,
E al manger se aturneit,
Apres coe k'il fu assis,
E pain esteit devant ly mis,
Kant la benison dust doner,
Le Menestral oi noiser, — VVad, Man. MS.
Chaucer says. At every course came loude minstralcie. p. 28.
^ Quand les tables ostees furent,
Ciljugleuren pies esturent.
Sont vielles et liarpes prises.
Chansons, sons, lais, vers et reprises:
Et de geste chants nos ont. —
Tournam. d'Antech, Fauchet, p. 72.
So Chaucer describes them :
And so befell that after the third course
While that this king sit thus in his noblav,
Hearkning his minstrals her things play, '
Before him at his boord deliciously, p. 23.
Thus the Roman d'Alexandre,
Quand li rois ot mangle s'apella Helinand
Pour li esbanoier comanda que il chant.— -Du Cange Min.
NORMANJONGLEURS
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 191
welcome.'* The moralist wished their melodies to be CHAP
connected with sacred subjects.^' But their harvest ^^^-
was either more plentiful or more grateful from meaner anglo-
practices. Hence they vaulted over ropes on horse
back, like our present tumblers ; '" they played with and min
the pendent sword ; " they taught animals to perform
various tricks ; and they imitated the notes of birds.'*
They practised all the arts of buflfoonery, which
were calculated to attract to them money, dresses, or
feasting.^ Sometimes they are described as attending the
courts of princes in bodies, and obtaining gifts of
gold and silver, horses, and costly garments."" Their
merry and licentious life, and the reputation and pa
tronage they enjoyed, often attracted many, and at
^' Cliaucer says. And jestours that telleu tales
Both of wepyng and of game. —
The minister of Richard I. even hired them to sing his praises in the
streets. Hoved.
** Brunne allows us to hear minstrelsy on religious themes :
Yn harpe, yn thabour, and symphangle,
Wurschepe God yn troumpes and sautre,
Yq cordys, an organes and bellys ryngyng,
Yn al these wurschepe ge beveues kyng,
Gyf ye do thus, Y sey hardly.
We mow hero gour mynstralsy. — Brunne MS.
* Albericus, in 1237, among the performances of the minstrels, men
tions that one, in equo super chordam in aere saltavit, — Du Cange, voc.
Min. " See before, note 10. So Wace says that Taillifer threw up his
sword. MS.
" King Alphonso mentions jongleurs, qui font sauter des singes, des
boucs ou des chiens ; qui contrefont les oiseaux. Hist. Troub. 2. p. 366.
^ The worthy Strutt has collected many particulars on the ancient
gleemen, minstrels, &c. and given some curious plates of them, in his
Sports and Pastimes, p, 1 58- 188.
*° Rigordus mentions, with great indignation, that he had seen princes
give vestments most skilfully embroidered with various devices of flowers,
which had cost 20 or 30 marcs of silver, to these minstrels, whom he very
sincerely calls the Devil's ministers. De Gest. Phil, p, 178,
HISTORYOFENGLAND.
192 . HISTORY OF ENGLAND, Z
BOOK tiines even some of the superior ranks, to join their
_^ society."'
LITERARY In somc of the Troubadours we have a full account
of the talents that were expected from the reputable
jongleurs of their fraternities.''* From one of them
we learn, that their patrons had become critical on
their merits, and that while excellence was rewarded
with peculiar liberality, inferior pretensions were
neglected.'" But In the Provencal regions, and among
their poets and musicians, the Troubadour was dis
tinguished from the joglar or jongleur. The latter
were rather the musicians and attendants to the
former."* The art of jongleur is expressly marked as
inferior to the profession and character of the Trou
badour.'*'' But some Troubadours chose to unite both
*' In one of the Tableaux noticed by Fauchet, a Vavasor's wite is intro
duced as very earnestly dissuading him from becoming ministrier. p.75.
*^ Giraud de Cabreira, in his instructions to his jongleur, reproaches him
for playing badly on tlie violin, and singing indifferently — for his inability
to dance or jump like the jongleurs of Gascony^for giving them only dull
pieces, and not those of the celebrated Troubadours — and for being igno
rant of the histories and tales with which the jdngleui-s amused the great,
2 Hist. Troub. 496..^Giraud de Calanson tells the jongleur he is instruct
ing, ' Sache bien trouver et bien rimer, bien parler, bien proposer un jeu
parti! Sache jouer du tambour et des cimballes, et faire retentir la sym-
phouie. Sache Jeter et retenir de petites pommes avec des couteaux, imi-
ter le chant des oiseaux, faire des tours avec des corbeilles, faire attaques
des chateauxyfaire sauter au travels de quatre cerceux : jouer de la citale
et de la mandore, manier la manicarde et laguitare; garnir la roue avec
dix sept cordes; jouer de la harpe et bien accorder la gigue pour egayer
I^air du psalterion. Jongleur tu feras preparer ueuf instrumens de dix
cordes. Si tu apprends a eu bien jouer ils fourniront a tous les besoins,'
2 Hist. Troub, 32.
¦" Giraud de Calanson, p. 33.
*¦* The jongleurs were most commonly attached to the Troubadours,
followed them into the oastle, and chanted theirverses for them. Thus
it is said of Giraud de Borneil, ' He went to courts, and led with him
two chantador?, who sang his songs.' MS. Roy. in Renouard, Poes.
Troub. V. 2. p. 1,59. Fabre d'Olivet aptly remarks, ' The jongleur had
the same rank with, the Troubadour, as the squire had to the knight,' v. l.
P- 138.
¦" Thus it is said of the Troubadour Gaucelin Faidit, ' Fes se Jot-
GLAji per ochaizo qu'el perdet a joe tot son aver a joe de datz.' ' Be
cause he had lost at play,'at the game of datz, all that he had, he became
ajotglar,' MS. Roy. 7698, Raym. p. 162.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 193
these professions or accomplishments.*" We find that chap.
even those meant to be scholars, occasionally re- ^^^•
nounced the serious studies of the ecclesiastical anglo-
seminaries for the pleasures and business of ion- *'°'^'"^^
.1 . JONGLEUR
glery. The jongleurs were at times so clever as to and min-
compose poems themselves,** and even to be raised 1^*^^"" .
to the dignity of knighthood.** As society advanced
to larger improvements and wiser mind, the jon
gleur became less necessary to the amusement of
mankind, or less compatible with their other occu
pations. They became also too numerous for their
general benefit,'" and some of the Troubadours en-
*^ Hugues de Pena was one of these. ' He became a joglar and sang
well, and could sing many songs of other persons,' MS, Roy, 159; and
V.5. p. 22.
*' The Provenyal MS. mentions this of Hugues de St. Cyr, ' His
friends wished to make him a clerc, and sent him to the school of Mont-
pellier; but when they thought he was learning letters, he learnt songs
and verses; sirventes, tensons and couplets, and the feats of valiant men
and of applauded ladies, and devoted himself to joglari.' Raym, v. 5.
p. 223; and V. 2. p. 159. His dialogue with his patron the count of
Rhodes, shewed that he had profited by the profession, but with some
question as to his gratitude. Hugues said to the count, ' Be not afraid,
I have not come to you now to ask any thing of you ; I have as much as
I want; but I see that you are in need of money, and that it would be a
great charity to give you some.' The count answered, ' I have seen you
here naked and miserable, and I am very sorry that I send you away
wealthy. You have cost me more than two archers and two knights
would have done. Yet if I were novv to give you a palfrey, I am sure you
are the very man who would take it,' S. Palaye Troub. v. 2. p. 175.
¦*' Thus the Provenp al MS. remarks of Pistoleta, ' He was cantaire of
Arnaud de Marnoil, and then became Trobaire and made songs and
pleasing airs.' — So Aimeri de Saerlat : ' He made himself a joglar, and
was very subtle in declaiming and understanding poems, and became
Trobaire.' MS. Raym. 7225. v. a. p. 160.
'"' The same MS, notices this elevation of Perdigons, ' He became
joglar, and knew well to play on the viol and to trobar. The dauphin of
Auvergne made him his knight and gave him land and rents.' Raym. 160.
—So when the marquis of Mountserrat, after taking Constantinople in
1204, formed the kingdom of Thessalnnica out of his portion of the spoil,
he made his joglar Rainbaud de Vaqueiras a knight, 'fets lo cavallier,' and
gave hira large lauds and rents in his kingdom of Salonica,' MSS. 7614.
Raym. l6l.
'" Thus Pierre d'Auvergne satirizes Eleaz Gaumas, because ' from
being a knight he chose to make himself a jongleur. ' Evil be to hira that
gave him the green garments. It would have been better to have burnt
Vol. IV. O
HISTORYOFENGLAND.
194 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK deavored to depreciate them.'' Hence, before thd
^^- thirteenth century closed, their general popularity
LITERARY bcgau to IcssBu. The great withdrew their patronage,
or applied it to persons and subjects which had
become more beneficial and more reputable. The
later Troubadours and jongleurs felt, lamented, and
reviled this change of taste, but could not arrest the
mutation. In 1270, one of them exclaims, " Is a
song obscure and highly valuable, few understand
it ; is it perspicuous, it is not valued. The profession
is treated as a folly ; and I cannot think it otherwise,
when I see it so little honored. Cursed be he that
taught me the art of verse !" '* They sometimes se
verely satirized each other.'^ While the mass of
society was ignorant, they were at the head of its
intellectual cultivation, and assisted to educate their
countrymen; as the general mind Improved, their
defects and vices became more visible and more
repulsive. Mental occupation of a superior order
improved tbe leisure of the great and studious. The
minstrel became more degenerate as he was less
valued, until at last he was proscribed as a useless
and corrupting vagabond.
Attempts were made to rouse them to aim at moral
him, because there are near a hundred who have taken up that trade.'
S. Pal. Troub. v. 2. p. 24. From the satire of the Moine de Montaudon,
we learn that a ' bourgeois se fit jongleur,' and yet carried on trade,
V. 3- P- 172.
" The fourth is Breval Limousin. ' Of all the bad jongleurs between this
place and Beneventim, he is the least so. — But he resembles a sick pil
grim, who sings to please the mob, — I almost pity him.' Ib. v, 23.
°' Giorgi a Troubadour, in one ofhis Sirventes, p. 361,
" See Pierre d'Auvergne's Sirvente against 12 Troubadours, 2 Hist.
Troub. 22-25. Some one returned him the comphment: ' Pierre d'Au
vergne sings like a frog in a marsh, and yet goes about boasting that he
has no equal. He ought to have some one to explain his verses, for no
one can understand them,' — Ib. 26.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 195
utility''* — the object most worthy of a thinking being, CHAP.
compatible with the finest taste and the truest plea- ^^^-
sures, and giving to these a meaning and a sanction anglo-
which both hallow and redouble them ; but the min- fo'iTf^EURs
strel and the jono'leur were not found to be improvable *'^° ^'^^-
ST U ELS
beings, and therefore the world hailed and encou- > ^-^
raged the cultivation of their most Intellectual quali
ties by another order of men, whom Ave next proceed
to notice, and who have created or revived for mo
dern society, that species ofcomposition which seems
to be the most connected with refinement of taste,
true sensibility, elegant recreation, and high culti
vation of mind and manners. Such are the effects
of genuine poetry. It civilized Greece — it bas po
lished Europe — it may yet, from the lyre of some
future Shakspeare or Milton, moralize the world.
But to produce this noble eflfect, it must itself be
moral. And why should genius at any time forget,
that the poetry which elegant taste, virtuous feeling,
and enlightened reason, must condemn, and which
for the improvement and happiness of mankind must
be exploded, is one of the worst enemies of human
society ; and the surest, tho insidious, destroyer of
national greatness, by the depravation of the Indivi
dual minds whose soundness, energy and rectitude,
are wanted to uphold it? '^
^' See Giraud Riquier's Supplication au Roi de Castile un nomdes jon
gleurs, 2 Hist. Troub. 357 ; and the king Alphonso's interesting answer,
p. 364-372-
^ Mr. Warton has collected several instances of the payments made
to minstrels, for their performances on the chief Saint days and other fes
tivals at the Augustine Priory of Bicester, in Oxfordshire, in 1431 ; at
Mactoke, in Warwickshire, during Henry VI.; and at Winchester Col
lege, between 1464 and 1484. Vetl. 1, p. 93-5. The Minstrels seem to
have stood high in the opinion of Henry V. if we may judge from his re
muneration given to one of them, as his inducement or reward foraccom-
panying him on his French expedition. ' To John Clyff, one of the king's
O 2
196
HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK VI.
LITERARY
HISTORYOFENGLAND.
minstrels, security by indentureybr, his wages, 3. Hen. 5. in his war against
France. A reading desk of silver over gilt; the foot of it in the fashion
of a tabernacle, standing on four feet, ' Two ewers of silver gilt; one
enamelled with the arms of England and France, the other with hearts.
A table with sundry relics therein, standing on two lions, weighing toge
ther 261b. 30Z. ; value ofthe lb. 40s. One great bowl, 3 candlesticks,
with 3 pipes, a great silver spoon, a skimmer, and other plate, weigh
ing together 19 lb.; value the lb. 30s. Redeemed from his executors,
12 Hen. 6,' Nicolas, Agincourt, 53.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES, 197
CHAP. IV.
History ofthe Anglo-Norman Vernacular Poetry — Philippe
du Than — Sanson — Wace — Gaimar — Beneoit.
Ire origin of vernacular poetry in Europe, must anglo
be ascribed to its itinerant minstrels. Among their
diversified companies, which in their various classes
comprised all the amusive powers, popular feelings,
and cultivated talent of the day, some must have been
capable of better things than mechanical repetitions
of favorite airs or fantastic mummery. The dull or
vulgar jongleurs may have been but jesters, mounte
banks or fiddlers ; but they who could compose songs
and satires, and " tell faire gestes and tales both of
weeping and of game," must have cultivated the
talents of invention and composition. At first indeed
the composer sang and played, and the songster com
posed ; bnt as the art improved, the musician be^
came separated from the poet.
As they aimed to please, and lived by pleasing, Univer-
their topics were always the most popular of the day. the min-
In tbe barbarous ages of eternal battle, war and s"<^' '^y'
rapine were their themes.' When religion became
cultivated, the praises of the saints were added.^
Love-songs, tales of all sorts, legends, lies, histories.
' As the songs of the Northern scalds, so often quoted by Snorre ;
and the poems of Aneurin, Llywarch Hen, Meilyr, Gwalchmai, and
Cynddelw, printed in the Welsh Archaiology, vol. 1.
' Ord. Vit. mentions of a St. William, that vulgo canitur a jocula-
toribus de illo cantilena, p, 598,
O3
198
BOOK VI,
LITERARY
HISTORYOF ENGLAND.
Their cor
ruptions
HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
and bacchanalian airs, all took their turn,* Their
subjects were adapted to their company; and as
the clergy were as fond of their performances as the
barons, and the monastery had as good cheer and as
rich presents to give as the castle, the taste and
patronage of the religious were at times as eagerly
consulted and obeyed as that of their secular neigh
bors. Hence all sorts of composition became fami
liar to the versifying wanderers — the grave as well
as the gay ; the religious as well as the risible ; the
warlike, the jovial, and the amatorlal.
But as all the public amusements of those days
beyond the warlike pastimes, centered in these va
grants, their popularity alarmed the infant moral sense
of society, beginning to civilize, to a perception of
their dissolute habits and indecent exhibitions. Profit
ing more by inflaming the worst passions of man, than
by addressing his better feelings, their performances
were so licentious and so seductive, as to rouse the
hostility of the wiser part of the nation.* Councils
issued decree after decree, to prohibit the ecclesiastics
from frequenting their society ;° and such were their
attractions, that It was even found necessary to forbid
' See Wace's account of the minstrels' songs at the court of Arthur,
cited before, p, 189. He adds,
Le uns descent contes et fables
Auquant demandoent dez et tables.- — Ellis, p. 49.
Denis Pyramis says,
Lirey li prince e li courtur
Cunt, Barun, e Vavasur,
Ayment cuntes, chanceurs e fables
E bon diz qui sunt delitables. MS. Cott. Lib. Domit. A 11.
¦¦ Even Charlemagne, who loved the ancient songs ofhis countrymen,
yet brands these popular vagrants as viles personae, who ought not to
have the right of accusing — as infamis maculis aspersi; id est, Histriones,
ac turpitudinibus subjectas personal, Capit, Baluz, t. 1, col. 229,
° See the councils quoted in the Memoire of Duclos, p. 359.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 199
priests and monks from practising, not only their art, chap.
but its most obnoxious exertions." The theological ^^
writers also pursued them with invectives.'^ But laws anglo-
and sermons are feeble, while the taste is gross, and ^^r^^^
the manners are corrupt. The pleasing arts and cular
ribaldry of the minstrels won the ear, delighted the ^^"^JL
leisure, and seduced even the imitation of the great-
Kings, barons, prelates, and ladies, invited, rewarded,
and emulated them.* The minstrels in their turn en
deavored to revenge themselves on those clergy who
discountenanced them ; and contes devots abounded,
satirizing the vices, and ridiculing the persons, the
tenets and the customs, of the ecclesiastical body.*
This mutual exposition of each others faults, in
creased the moral criticism of society on both.
But it is impossible to suspend the charms of nar
rative fiction, or to destroy the magical effects of lan
guage arranged musically into rhythm. The verbal
melody arising from rhyme and metre, has in all its
^ ' We absolutely forbid the ministers of the altar, and monks, turpis
verbi vel facti joculatorem esse — Clericos scurriles et verbis turpibus jo-
culares ab ofiBcio detrahendos.' Bal. Capit. t. l. col. 1202, 1207.
' Thus Agobard calls them turpissimos que et vanissimos joculatores.
De Dup. Eccl. ap. Du Clos. p. 360. M. Caylus confesses, in his. Me
moire on the Fabliaux, that he cannot excuse nor render public 'I'obsce-
nit^ de leurs contes.' Mem. Ac. Inscr. t. 34. p. 1 16.
" Denis Pyramis begins his Life of king Edmund with a palinodia on
his former conduct in imitating these minstrel lays —
Mult ay use cum pechere
Majfie en trop fole maniere ;
E trop ay use ma vie
En peche e en folie,
Kant CQurte hautey pf les curteis,
Si fesei lesservienteis,
Chanceurs ettes rymes saluz
Entre lesdrues e les druz
Mult me penay de teles vers fere.
MS. Domit. All,
" Some of these Le Grand has published, which sufficiently shew both
the wit and malice of the lay fableur.
04
200 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK forms of collocation, and in every country, beer
^^- found to delight the mind as irresistibly, as the chords
LITERARY aud symphonlcs of the harp, the viol, and the lute
en"land.^ have gratified the ear,
induce — ' ^'^^ perception of this effect in themselves, and the
the clergy observation of its influence over others, led some o:
vernacular the clergy to feel that the popularity of poesy was noi
poetry, ^q |jg extinguished by denunciatory ordinances oi
angry censures.'" A wiser plan was conceived, thai
of combining the delight with utility, the amusemen'
with innocence. Taught by a happy taste, they savs
at last the possibility of separating the poet from the
minstrel, as well as from the musician — of cultivating
that art in the study and in the cloister, which was
so popular in the festive hall and in the streets; and
of connecting it with better subjects than the adula
tions and topics that pleased at the banquet, or the
licentiousness and bufibonery that excited and in
jured the populace."
We cannot now distinguish the individuals who
began this revolution in literary composition and
public taste. It required much courage in the firsl
adventurers. The study of the Roman classics had
made Latin versification such a prevailing passion.
'" Denis Pyramis confesses tbe attraction of these poetical compo
sitions : E les vers sunt mult amez
E en ces riches curtes loez ; —
E si en est ele mult lo^e,
E la ryme par tut am^e
Kar mult I'ayment, si lunt mult cher,
Cunt, barun e chivaler. — MS. Ib.
" With this motive Denis Pyramis wrote, and from this motive claims
the attention of the great:
Rei dunt prince e empereur,
Cunt, barun, e vavasur
Deuvent bien a ceste oeuvre entendre,
Kar bon ensainple ill purrunt prendre. MS, Ib.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGKS, 201
that the first clerk who wrote native rhymes must have chap.
endured great contempt for his illiterate habit, and ^^-
perhaps some obloquy for imitating the lays of the anglo-
NORMAN
discredited minstrel, vpt>v.VERNA-
The Anglo-Saxon clergry had favored the custom ; cular POETRY
and our Alfred, in his metrical translations of the ' — v— ^
poetry of Boetius, gave a noble example of its prac
ticability and merit,''* But the literature ofthe Anglo-
Saxons perishing, from their sensuality, their efforts
were forgotten in the general contempt of their Cout
querors, both for their manners and language.
It was among the Anglo-Norman clergy, and from In the
the patronage of the Anglo-Norman ladies, that our He^iJl-y i.
first national poetry, distinct from minstrel recitation,
arose. The reign of our Henry I. was the sera of its
appearance,, and either England or Normandy its
birth-place. His first queen, Mathilda, was fond of
poems, made not by minstrels, but by scholars ; " and
as it is impossible to suspect her of knowing Latin,
they must have been written in the language of her
husband and his court, which she understood ; this
was the Anglo-Norman. That this vernacular poetry
was cultivated in Henry's court, we have the most de
cisive evidence, from a specimen of it yet existing,
our earliest, which is addressed to his second queen,
Adeliza." Thus we may infer, that Henry's fondness
for letters excited his queens to cultivate a literary
taste ; and that the impossibility of their having it
'= See Hist. Ang. Sax. on Aldhelm's songs ; on the Saxon Judith ; on
Cedraon ; and on Alfred's poetry.
" From the account of Malmsbury, of her patronage, these clerical
poets seem to have been numerous : Inde liberalitate ipsius per orbem
sata, turmatim hue adventabant scholastici cum cantibus, tum versibus
famosi, felicem que putabant, qui carminis novitate' aures inulceret do
minie. Hist. p. 164
" See further, note 25.
HISTORYOFENGLAND.
202 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK but from compositions which they could understand
^^- induced the clergy to apply themselves to vernaculai
LITERARY poctry. The royal patronage and necessities, and the
taste of the female sex, raised poetry from the poUu
tions of the minstrel, who sang to live, and therefore
sang as the gross taste of a gross vulgar required, tc
the cultivation of studious men, whose taste the Lafir
literature had refined, whose memory its recordec
facts had stored, whose emulation was kindled by its
ancient reputation, and who sought for lettered fame
by respectable composition.
Popularity Vernacular poetry once esteemed in the highe]
works. circles of life, could not fail to be generally attrac
tive.'' The human heart loves virtue, tho it maj
falter in practising it. The mind tends to good
taste and judgment, tho it may be withheld, by op
posing circumstances, from acquiring them. Hence
the clerical versifier became more encouraged than
the minstrel, by the intellectual and the respectable,
Even they who read the immoral composition, cannol
but despise its author. Tho men may practise vice,
no man has respected the vicious. Therefore as soor
¦as society found presented to its option, poetry more
" Denis Pyramis, after mentioning tbe roman of Parthenope,
Cil ki Partonope trova
e ki les vers fist e ryma —
and Marie's lays, E Dame Marie autrefi
Ki en ryme fist e basti —
again mentions the ^pularity of this vernacular poetry. He says o
counts, barons and knights,
e si en ayment mult I'escrit,
e lire le funt, si unt debt;
e si les funt sovent retraire.
So of ladies,
Les lays soleient as dames plere;
De joye les oyent e degre,
Quil sunt sulun lur volente, — MS, Ib,
POETRY,
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES, 203
useful and more creditable than the licentious songs chap.
of the minstrels, the improved taste of tbe nation ^^¦
liberally encouraged it. The new poetry found am- anglo-
ple patronage, and the patronage multiplied both verna-"^
the new rhymers and their works.'" Wace, a canon cular
of Bayeux, and one of the most prolific rhymers that
ever practised the art, states expressly, that his works
were composed for the " rich gentry who had rents
and money." "^ He prudently reminds the great, that
unless " par clerc" their actions were recorded, their
celebrity could have no duration ; '* and he takes care
to inform them, that they who wrote " gestes and
histories" had always been highly honored and be
loved," and that barons and noble ladies had often
'^ The clerical poets took high ground : they declared their works to
be essential to the formation of reputable character. Thus Beneoit, in
his rhymed chronicle of Normandy :
Oir veeir, apprendre faire
Retenir, ourer e retraire,
Senz ceo ne puet de nul eage,
Nuls estre pruz, vaillant, ne sage ;
Tels sunt afaitee e curteis ;
E maistre des arz e des leis.
Si ne fust buens enseignement
Doctrine oirs retenement.
Qui fussent sans discretion,
Vilain, senz sen e sanz raison.
Therefore He
— al soverein e al meillur
Escrif, translat, truis e rimei. MS, Harl, N° 1717,
" Jeo parout a la riche gent,
Ki unt les rentes a le argent,
Kar pur eus sunt li livre fait ;
E bon dit fait, e bien retrait. MS, Bib. Reg. 4. c. 11,
'° Bien entend conuis e sai
Que tuit murrunt, e clerc, e lai;
E que mult ad curte decree.
En pres la raortlur renum^e;
Si par clerc ne est mis en livre,
Ne poet par el dureement vivre, — MS, Ib.
'" Mult soelent estre onur^,
E mult preise, e mult am^ ;
Cil ki les gestes escrivieient,
E ki les estoires treiteient. — MS, Ib.
HISTORYOF ENGLAND
204 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK given handsome presents, to have their names com-
^^- memorated,'"' The clergy thus aiming at the remu-
LiTERARY ucration for which the minstrels sang, we shall not be
surprised that they also sometimes took their subjects
from the songs of the itinerant jongleurs, and revived
them in a superior style. This fact is avowed in the
preface to one of the romans on Charlemagne;'"
and also in the Roman du Florimont.*'' The conse
quence of the clergy making these compositions was,
that narrative poetry, or, what was believed to be
so, and written as such, became soon a respectable,
a highly valued and an improving art, operating
'" Suvent aveient des barruns,
E des nobles dames beaus duns.
Pur mettre lur nuns en estoire.
Que tuz tens mais fust de eus memoire. — MS. Ib.
°' One of the romans on Charlemagne, in rhyme, Brit. Museum, Bib!
Reg. 15. E 6. explicitly stateSiThata Clerc had composed and revived it
from a chanp on of a jongleour —
Or entendez seigneurs, que Dieu vous benie,
Le glorieulx du ciel, le filz saincte Marie,
Uneyiancon de moult grant seigneurie
Jugleurs la chantent e ne la scevent mie
Moult a este perdue picca ne fu ouye
Ung Clerc la recouvret que Jbu Crist benye
Les vers en a escrips, tout e la restablie,
Savez on les trouva dedens une abbaye. — MS.
^' This was written by Aymes de Florimont. He says he has said it
as he found it written, or as he took it from good Trouveurs :
Don roy Florimont vous ai dit
Ce quejeii ai trouv^ escript;
Or pii a ceuz qui oi lont
E as bons trouveurs qui sont. MS. Hari. N° 3983,
That the minstrels had composed romans ou the subjects which the
clerical rhymers so prodigiously expanded, the Chronicon du Guesclin
states — Qui veut avoir renom des bons et des vaillons,
II doit aler souvent a la pluie et au charaps,
Et estre en la bataille, ainsy que fu RoUans;
Les quatre fils Haimon et Charlon liplus grans;
Li diis Lions de Bourges, et Guion de Connans,
Perceval li Gallois, Lancelot et Tristans,
Alixandres, Artus, Godefroy li sachans,
De quoy cits menestriers font les nobles romans.
Du Gauge, voc, Minist,
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES, 205
powerfully in augmenting the intellectual cultivation Chap.
ofthe people, iv.
It is a question that tasks our ingenuity to solve : anglo-
How came the Scandinavian Normans, who settled !!°!"'^'^
¦' VERNA-
themselves in Normandy, with their Norwegian or cular
Icelandic speech, to abandon this so entirely, and to ^ — -, " ¦
adopt that dialect of the Roman popular language
which appears in the Anglo-Norman poems, so com
pletely, as that this alone became the vernacular
tongue both of their court and country, at the period
ofthe Norman conquest? We can only thus explain
it. The Romans had so completely conquered and
colonized Gaul, that its Celtic language gave way in
most parts to a Patois Latin, which was the general
language there until the Franks became its masters.
They came with their Franco-Theotisc tongue ; but
altho they converted the name of the country from
Gaul to France, they did not impress their German
speech on the people at large.
The Roman Patois maintained its ground in the
south of France, in the regions on the Mediterranean :
and when the German portion of Charlemagne's great
empire separated from the French sovereign's, the
Latin Patois obtained in time such an ascendency,
that It was adopted for ever by the court and nobility
of France, It was the popular speech of Normandy
when RoUo invaded ; and the number of his soldiers
and chiefs was so small, compared with the people
over whom they became the temporal lords, that
policy and convenience induced the Norman dukes,
his successors, to learn and patronize the popular
tongue ; henCe this became the general language of
Normandy, and was brought as such by the conqueror
into England, We see it in its earliest form in his
20@
HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK VI.
LITERARY
Philipdu Than's
poems.
laws, and in the poems which we are about to men
tion of Phillippe du Than, and we see its rapid
improvement after it was used for poetry, in the
"'t?f»T smooth and fluent works of Wace, Beneoit, and
' - — ' Gaimar. The most ancient specimens of the vernacular
poetry of the Anglo-Norman clerks, are the two
poems by Phillippe du Than, which may be placed
about 1 1 20. They contain nearly 1 8oo lines, rhymed
in the middle.'** His first, entitled ' De Creaturis,' he
sent to his uncle, the chaplain of the seneschal of
Henry I., for his correction.** Besides its rhymes, there
is a rhythm in the cadence of his lines, which shews
the infant state of the French heroic verse. It treats
on the days ofthe week; on the months; on the signs
of the zodiac ; at some length on the moon ; and on
the ecclesiastic periods of the year ; from most of
which he draws a fanciful allegorical signification.
His second he names ' Bestiarius,' and addresses it
to the ' mult bele femme,' the queen Aliz," the se
cond wife of Henry I. Its subjects are, beasts, birds,
and precious stones. The first are subjected to us,
and are therefore symbols of obedience, and conse
quently denote our childhood ; the second fly naturally
*" MS. Cotton Library, Nero, A, 5. — This and some other of the Anglo-
Norman poets remained unnoticed in the British Museum, till the Abbe
de la Rue saw and described them. See his papers, published by the
Antiquarian Society, in the Archaeologia, vols. xii. & xiii.
'¦' Philippe du Thaun ad fait une raisun.
A sun uncle I'enveiet, que amender la deiet.
Si rien iad mesdit ne en fait ne en escrit.
A unfrei de Thaun, le chapelain Yhun,
E seneschal du rei icho vus de par jnei. — MS. Nero.
'" Philippe du Thaun en franceise raisun,
Ad estrait bestiare un livere de grammaire.
Pur louur d'une geme ki mult est bele femme.
Aliz est num^e, reine est corunfie.
Reine est d'Engleterre, sa ame nait ja gueie. — MS. Ib.
IV.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 207
into the air, and thus designate men who meditate chap.
heavenly things ; the last are of themselves perma
nent and unchangeable, and such will be the ineffable
Deity to us when we hymn in his presence, and amid
the glory of his assembled saints.
In this he quotes several times ' Phisiologus,"'® and
at others, a work called Bestiarium ; '" another which
he named Lapidaire^ and Isidorus.*' These works
are all still in existence.
The Bestiaire is a Latin work remaing still in MS.
which I have not yet seen.*" But the Phisiologus is
connected with some other subjects of curious in*
quiry, and therefore demands a particular notice.
It is the performance of one Theobald, of whom,
all that we know Is from the titles prefixed to the
different ]\ISS. of the works.*' In one in the British
Museum,*'' he ends with naming himself ' Tebaldi.'
=* Thus, ' Phisiologus del Egle dit plus.' — MS. p. 67.
' Et Phisiologus dit que Caladrius.' — p. 68.
And in other places, to which I do not find corresponding ones in The-
bald ; as on the ' Feuix,' p. 70, and ' Cocodrill,' p. 50.
" ' Delui dit Bestiaire, chose que mult est maire.' — MS. p. 70.
' En un livre dit du grammaire, que nous apelum Bestiaire.' MS,p,8o,
"' Ou the precious stones, he thus begins :
' Ke plus volt savoir de ces pierres, lur vertuz et lur maneres ;
Si all lire de Lapidaire que est escrit du grammaire.' MS. p. 80.
^ As on the dove,
' Uns colums est ceo dit Ysidre en sun escrit,' — p, 72.
He also cites Solomon on tbe ant;
' I ceo de Salemun del furmie par raisun,' — p. 52.
And in other places. In his first poem, he quotes Johannes de Garlandia,
Hilperic, Turkil, and Nambroet, La Rue, Arch, v, 12. p. 302.
*" M. La Rue mentions, that Mr. Douce has a MS, copy of it in Latin.
" Fabricius in his Bib. Med. Lat, notices him only to say, tbat his age
was uncertain,
" Harieian MS. N" 3093, -See note 38.
20» HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK They usually style him 'Theobald! Episcopi,' but
_^ the Harleian MS. adds his country, ' Italico.' It has
LITERARY bceu fouud in MSS. of so early a date as the eighth
"'l™^y°^ and ninth centuries ; ** but it does not now exist
ENGLAND. ¦'
' — ¦" — ' merely in MS. It was very early printed.** It is
written on twelve animals ; the lion, the eagle, the
serpent, the ant, the fox, stag, spider, whale, syre:
elephant, turtle and panther.*'
As it is so rare that no quotations have been give
from it; and as it is of considerable importance, tl;
hitherto unnoticed, on the question of the origin an
antiquity of rhyme, some extracts from it may not t
unacceptable here, reserving others to be adduced i
a subsequent page, when we come to consider tl
subject of poetical rhyme.
It begins with the lion ; and in his first lines o
^ Roquefort mentions, that Simner in his catalogue ofthe MSS. of tl
Biblioth. Bernensis, has inserted a MS. of the eighth century, intitul
' Liber Fisiolo Theobald! expositio de natura animalium, vel avium si
bestiarum ;' and another as a MS. of the ninth century, intituled, 'Ph
siologus.' Roquef. etat. p, 283.
^¦' Neither M. Simner nor M, Roquefort seem to have known th
this work has been printed; but tbe copy which I have seen, express
in its colophon, that it was printed at Cologne by Henry Quentell, wl
also published the ' Altum Doctrinale of Alanus,' No date is appendei
but this ancient printer appears by other works to have lived soon aft
the discovery of the art.
^ It is intituled ' Phisiologus Theobaldi Episcopi de naturis duodeci
animalium.' It is printed with an ancient Latin commentary, whi<
thus introduces it : ' This book has four causes of knowlege; the materii..,
the formal, the efficient, and the final. The material, or subject, is the
nature of the twelve animals. The formal is twofold; the form ofthe
treatise, and the form of treating it: the first consists in its division and
distinction ; the second is tbe mode of doing it, which is metrical. The
efficient cause was Master Theobald, doctor and bishop, who has com
posed it in simple words. The final cause is its utihty. By this we may
learn to love the virtues, to avoid the vices, and to attach ourselves to
good manners. The cardinal virtues are, prudence, justice, temperance,
and fortitude. The vices to be avoided are, pride, avarice, gluttony,
luxury, and others, which are denoted by the animals. Another utility
is, that Christ is intimated by the lion, and the devil by the fox. The
author also means to teach the real nature of the animals,' Nothing is
said ofthe age or country ofthe author.
POETRY-.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES, 209
this animal, the author has expressed all that he men- chap.
tions about himself. ^^¦
De Leone ; ANGLO-
Tres leo naturas, et tres habet inde figuras norman
Quas, ego, Christe ! tibi bis seno carmine scripsi. verna-
Altera divini memorant animali libri ^^^f..
De quibus apposui, quae rursus mystica novi
Teraptans diversis, si possum, scribere metris
Et numerum solidum complent animalia solum.''
These are obviously what were afterwards leonine
rhymes, or lines rhyming in the middle, and it is pro
bable that they present us with the verses that occa
sioned the term Leonine to be first applied to such
rhymes. In these lines, the author declares that he shall write
his work in different metres. He has done so; and his
diversity consists in making some of hexameter lines
that rhyme in the middle ; others of hexameters and
pentameters, rhyming in the same manner; and two
of short metre, rhyming in couplets. The rest on the
lion, and the moral attached to it, are thus expressed :
Nam leo stans fortis super alta cacumina montis
Qualicunque via vallis descendit ad ima
Si venatorem per naris sentit odorem,
Cauda cuncta Unit, que per vestigia figit
Quatenus inde suum non possit cernere lustrum
Natus non vigilat dum sol se tercio girat
Sed rugitum dans pater ejus resuscitat ipsum,
Tunc quasi viviscit et sensus quinque capiscit
Et quotiens dormit nunquam sua lumina claudit.
The application of this, is.
Sic, Tibi, qui celsi reside in culmine coeli
Cum libuit tandem terrenam visere partem
Ut genus humanum relevares crimine lapsum
Non penitus notum fuit ulli demoniorum
Viscera Marise, tibi, Christe ! fuere cubile.
- * The commentary remarks, that twelve is the solid number, and one
the solum.
Vol, IV. P
210 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK Et qui Te genuit triduum post surgere fecit
VI. Cum mortis vindex mortem crucis ipse subires
Tu, nos custodis qui nullo tempore dormis
Pervigil ut pastor, ne demat de grege raptor.
The next lines are on the eagle. These are hex
ameter and pentameter verses, rhyming also in the
middle. He first describes the bird, and then gives
it this moral allusion :
Est homo peccatis que sutit ab origine matris
Qualis adest acquila, que renovata ita
Nubes transcendit, solis incendia sentit
Mundum cum pompis despiciendo suis
Fit novus in Christo ter mersus gurgite sacro
De sursum vivus fons fluit iUe pius.
Nam novus est panis, super omnia nulla suavis
Panis id est Christus sit sine fine cibus.
Those on the ant, the fox, the stag, the elephant
and the whale, are also hexameters and pentameters
rhyming in the middle. From the latter a quotation
may be made, as it gives us an earlier specimen, if not
the actual prototype of our Milton's fine simile on the
leviathan or whale :
Him, haply slumbering on the Norway foam,
The pilot of some small night-foundered skiff
Deeming some island, oft, as seamen tell,
With fixed anchor in his scaly rind.
Moors by his side under the lee, while night
Invests the sea and wished morn delays."
In Theobald's, the same idea is thus very pic
turesquely expressed. He begins with saying, that
the whale lies on the sea, to all appearance, a great
promontory :
Est promontorium cernere non modicum.
Huic religare sitam prae tempestate carinam
" Paradise Lost, book i .
ANGLO-
KOUMAN
CULAR POETRY.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 211
Naut£e festinant ; utque foris saliant, C 11 A P.
Accendunt vigilem, quem navis portitat, ignem iv.
Ut calesefacient et comedenda coquant.
Ille focum sentit, tunc se fugiendo remergit
Unde prius venit sic que carina perit. verna
The verses on the syren and the panther are like
those on the Hon, only hexameter verses rhyming in the
middle. Thus having described the syren as twofold
in body, like a mermaid, half woman half fish ; he
educes from it this moral reflection :
Quam plures homines, sic sunt in more biformes,
Unum dicentes, aliud tibi mox facientes ;
Qui foris ut fantur, non intres sic operantur.
His last verses are on the panther, and he closes
with these lines :
Est autem Christus Panther alegorice dictus —
Qui fugit atque latet, nee in ipso tempore patet
Serpens antiquus, qui nobis est inimicus
Nam que -palam nullos audet clam fallere multos
Quos cum defendat, qui secla per omnia regnat.
The Harleian manuscript adds.
Carmine finito, sit laus et gloria Christo
Cui, si non alii, placeat haec metra Tebaldi.'"
Philippe Du Than begins his animals like Theo
bald's, with the lion, but evinces himself at once in
that, not to be a mere translator ; for while the Phy
siologus gives only twenty-four hexameter lines to
this king of beasts, Du Than makes him occupy ten
pages. But he has taken what he pleased from his
other authorities, and therefore we find in him the
monorces, the beaver, the hyena, the crocodile, the
donkey, and the partridge, which are not among the
^ Harl, MS. N" 3093. The printed copy has not these two conclud
ing lines. The MS, ends ' explicit liber phisiologi,' and begins, ' Incipit
liber fisiologus a Thelbaldo Jta&o compositus.' Dr. Warton mentions this
MS, but has quoted nothing from.it, -
212 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK twelve animals selected by Theobald. He enlarges
^^' on the ant far beyond this author.^'
LITERARY It scBms to US absurd for him to have hunted for
EN^LAND^ allegorical meanings and religious applications, which
"^ ¦' — ¦ have really no greater connexion with the animals
he describes, than with a monkey or a potatoe. But,
like all poets, he wrote to please, and would not
have thus written, if it had not gratified the royal
patroness, to whom he addressed it. We cannot dis
cover how the beautiful queen could be either edified
or interested to know that the phoenix signifies our
Saviour, and the crocodile the devil ; or that the
attraction of iron by the loadstone implies the con
version of the pagans to Christianity.*" It seems to
us, that these fancies could have only pleased our
ancestors, because in the total vacuity of unlettered
ignorance, any ideas, any reading, must be prefer
able to none. Literature is in any shape so grateful
to those who have mastered its alphabet, that it
requires some cultivation to be able to detect or to
dislike even its absurdities. But all preceding ages,
from Orpheus'" to the last century, have liked such
works, tho we may perhaps now saj^ at least with all
cultivated minds, that their popularity is gone, even
in poetry, for ever.
Philippe's verses on the precious stones seems to
be founded on those of Marbodius on the gems,
whom he means by " Lapidaire."
™ Hari. MS. p. 52.
*" E eel virtu ad en sei, lei fer trait od sei ;
Signifie ge Xens traient a la lur les paens.
Quant il laissent lur eresie e creient el fiz sc* Marise.
Du Thau. MS. Ib.
*' Du Than is certainly not worse than the celebrated Orpheus appears
in the mythological poems on stones ascribed to him — and published by
Gesner, In meaning, there seems to be no superiority. — His writing on
animals may have been owing to Henry the first's attachment to them.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 213
This author was a Breton, and bishop of Rennes, chap.
in Bretagne, to his death. In 1 1 23. His book " De ^^-
Gemmis," was long very popular.**
It has no addition of allegorical interpretations.
Marbodius had a more plain and common-sense
mind, which his versification of proverbs or moral
aphorisms, under the name of Cato the Philosopher,
sufficiently indicates.*^ But a mystical or moral ap
plication was in time added by some one in prose.**
Another clerical rhymer, to whom the versification Sanson de
of our ancient poetry must have been much in- Proverbs.
" Marbodius wrote it under the name of Evax, an Arabian king. He
seems to have been one of those who studied the Arabian writings, for he
mentions the importation of the gems into Europe by the Arabs, very
o/'ten ; as, On the Sardonyx :
Partibus hunc nostris Arabes : Sed et India mittit.
On tbe Onyx :
Hanc quoque dant nobis Arabes ; dat et India gemmam.
The Yri :
Yrin dant ,\rabes ; sed gignit eum mare rubruin.
Tbe Melochite :
Hunc Arabum gentes prius invenisse feruntur.
" Fabricius has printed these ; some are striking.
Tu si animo regeris. Rex es ; si corpore, servus. —
Proxiinus esto bonis, si non potes optimus esse. —
Non placet ille mihi, quisquis placeat sibi multum. —
Quanto major eris, tanto moderatur esto. —
Fac, quod te par sit; non alter quod mereatur. —
Aspera perpessu, fiunt jocunda relatu. —
Bib. Med. Lat. 1. 12. p. 51.
" There is an old French paraphrase of the work of Marbodius be
ginning — Evax fut un multe riche Reis
Lu regne tint des Arabais.
This is nearly as ancient as the time of Marbodius, Fab. ib, 55,
I observe that Everhard Bethuniensis, who lived in 1 124, in his metrical
list of the poets he recommends, has inserted these works of Marbodius
and Theobald ; ' Naturas lapidum varias, vaiiosque colores
Qui ponit lapidum non sapit ille metro,'
And,
' Naturas Pliysiolugus exponendo feraruin.'
Fab, Bib, Med, I. 5, p. 225, 7.
I" 3
niSTORYOF
ENGLAND,
214 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK debted, was Sanson de Nanteuil,*' who lived in the
^^- reign of Stephen. He then wrote what he calls a
LITERARY Romauz.** It is a translation of the Proverbs of
Solomon into eight-syllable verse of Norman French,
with a copious "Glosse." His plan is, to give the Latin
vulgate of a verse or more, then his versified transla
tion ; and afterwards his glosse, which is sometimes
moral, and sometimes allegorical. If quantity could
compensate for defect of quality, he would abundantly
satisfy us, for he has contrived to rhyme above 1 2,000
lines into couplets. He also implies the state of the
minstrel poetry, by classing the hearing of songs and
tales among the acts of criminal voluptuousness. To
us the rhyme is the only mark of poetry in its compo
sition ; but, as a collection of didactic aphorisms in
familiar verse, it must have been an important pre
sent to the awakening thought of the unlearned po
pulation. This is another of the works, which our
ancient literature owed to the intellectual curiosity
ofthe Anglo-Norman ladies. It was made for Alice
de Conde.*'
¦" MS, Harleian, N" 4388, This is a beautiful specimen of the ancient
calligraphy, "^ Ki ben volt estre engranz
Entendet dune a cest romanz
Qi al loenge damne de
El a senor al translate, — Sanson de Nanteuil. MS. Ib.
¦" The preceding extract continues —
- - - Ki souient
De sa dame qu'il aime e orient ;
Ki mainte feiz Ten out pried
Qi li disclairast eel traited.
Le num de ceste damme escrist
Cil ki translation fist,
Aeliz de cunde I'apele,
Noble dame enseigne et bele. — Sanson MS, Ib.
So Aymes says he wrote his Florimont to please a lady —
Seigneur oz oies que je di
Aymes pour I'amour de Neilli,
Si fist le romans si sagement. Aymes MS, Hari. N" 3983.
NORMANVERNA
CULARPOETRY.
DURING THL MIDDLE AGES. 21i>
The encouragement given to literature in England, C H A p.
from the happy taste of Henry L his queens, court, ^^-
and clergy, so diffusely spread the desire to attain it, anglo
that even the stormy reign of Stephen seems to have
been no impediment to its cultivation. Perhaps the
military exactions and movements confined the clergy
to their homes and monasteries, and made them more
studious. It is certain that this wasteful period of
civil misery was the interval in which the Anglo-
Norman mind was extensively educating itself. Not
only did a number of chroniclers and historians, of
Latin poets and logicians, of theologians and civilians,
then prosecute their studies, preparatory to their de-
velopement in the succeeding reign of Henry II. ; but
a sort of school of Anglo-Norman poetry was formed,
in which, to write vernacular histories became the
prevailing taste. We can distinguish three great con
temporaries of this school, great from the massiveness
and important effects of their works, Wace, Gaimar,
Beneoit : and we find several others alluded to.
Wace, the superior of all, in the fluency and metre >yace's
ofhis verse, and sometimes in narrative ability, has poems.
left us an interesting notice on his own biography.
He was born in Jersey, was taken young to Caen,
and there put to school ;** he was afterwards in France,
and returning to Caen, he applied himself to writing
¦" Si Ton demande qui co dist
Qui ceste estoire en romanz fist
lo di e dirai qi io sui
Wace del isle de Gersui
Qui est en mer vers Occident
Al fieu de Normandie apent
Ell I'isle de Gersui fui nez
A chaem fui petit portez,
Illoques fui a lettres mis
Pois fuis longues en France apris.'
Wace MS. Bib. Reg. 4. c. 11.
P4
216 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK romanz, to which the king encouraged him,** and for
i^ which Henry II. gave him a prebend at Bayeux. In
another place, he complains, that the noblesse which
had patronized him were dead, and that no one was
liberal to him but his sovereign, " Henris li secunt."™
Probably like Blackmore he had satiated the public
taste and outlived the public favor. He died about
1184. The first work of his that we are acquainted with,
was his Brut, or his roman, composed from JeflTry's
British History. He dates this himself, as having
been written in 1 15.5.*' Five years afterwards he
finished his other long poem, the Roman de Rou, on
Rollo and the succeeding dukes of Normandy. This
work may be considered almost as a contemporary
history in its latter part. He declares that he will not
insert fables,*^ and mentions, on the battle of Hastings,
that he wrote from living information.^' This lengthy
^ Quant io de France repairai
A chaems longues conversai
De romanz faire m'entremis
Mult en escris e mult en fis
Par deu aie e par le rei. Wace MS. Bib. Reg. 4. c, 1 1.
"' Morte est qi jadis fud noblesce
E perie est od lui largesce —
Ne truis guaires ki rien me dunt
Fors le Reis Henris li secunt. — MS, Ib,
" He says. Mil e cent cinquante cine ans,
Fist Mestre Wace cest romans, MS.Bib, Reg, 13,A21,
In another MS. of this poem his name is written Gace —
Mil et CLV ans
F'ist Maestro Gace cest romans. MS. Hari. No 6508,
Fauchet mentions two other MSS. in which he is called Metre Huistace,
and Metre Wistace. p. 82.
^' ' Io ne dis, mie fable, ne jo ne voil fabler.' Roman de Rou.
" In speaking of the battle of Hastings, he mentions, ' As I heard it
told my father, I well remember it, I was then a varlet,' Ib, M. Plaquet
informs us that ' the idiom in which Wace wrote is still preserved ill
part dans les campagnes de Bessin et du Cotentin,' Notice, p, ix.
POETRY,
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 217
poem contains several passages which display him to chap.
advantage, for those times.^ After 1 1 73, he composed ^^-
another versified chronicle on the dukes of Normandy, anglo-
from Henry II. upwards." verna-^
A taste for historical information prevailed in cular
England after the Norman conquest. So great a re
volution excited a desire in the Normans to com
memorate it; and William of Poitou, with Sallust in
his mind,** attempted to narrate it. Marianus, born
either in Ireland or Scotland, and who had settled at
Mentz, attached himself to the study of chronology,
and corrected the erroneous computations that had
been made from the Christian sera.*^ His work ex
cited Robert of Lorraine, who had been made bishop
of Hereford, to cultivate the same important branch
of inquiry.^* History, thus recommended to the no
tice ofthe Anglo-Normans, became the peculiar study
of the earl of Gloucester, the natural son of Henry I. ;
and to his urgency, and that of a literary prelate, his
contemporary, we owe the History of William of
Malmsbury, and the Annals of Henry of Huntingdon.
Their taste spread around ; and as the great thus
directed their attention to such compositions, it was
natural that writers should arise to gratify it, and to
** See these quoted in the first volume of this History. It contains
16,547 lines rhymed into couplets, but often with the same rhyming syl
lable for several verses.
" Of this poem the MSS. are very rare. It comprises 314 Alexandrine
verses. Plaq. Notice, xii,
^ So Ordericus Vitalis remarks, p. 52I.
" He wrote a Chronicon muudi to 1076, which Pistorius and others
have published, on the plan of Dionysius Exiguus, who made the Chris
tian aera the basis ofhis chronology, but he added 22 years which had
been omitted. Malmsb, de Gestis Pont. 286.
^' He abridged Marianus, ita splendide, says Malmsbury, p. 286, that
he excelled his original. He wrote several treatises on lunar computations;
on the motions ofthe stars ; mathematical tables, &c. He died 1095,
218
BOOK VI.
LITERARY
HISTORYOF ENGLAND.
Jeffry of
Mon-.mouth^s Britishhistory;
HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
benefit themselves by the patronage which was then
attainable. In this state of the public mind, and while the
vernacular poets had thought only of composing the
dull allegory of Du Than, the Proverbs of Sanson,
or Lives of Saints, a work appeared in Latin, which
gave a new direction to their talent, and may be re
garded as the real parent of our narrative poetry.
'This was Jeff"ry of Monmouth's British History. In
the latter part of the reign of Henry I. an archdeacon
Walter put into the hands of JeflFry, a book in Welsh,
which he stated that he had found in Bretagne, re
lating the actions of the ancient kings of Britain,
from Brutus to Cadwallader. From this history,
amplified by the addition at least of verbal informa
tion on Arthur from Walter, and by the insertion of
Merlin's prophecies,'^ Jeffry gave to the world a
Latin work, which he declared to be a translation of
the Welsh author."" He dedicated it to the earl of
Gloucester, whose approbation was celebrity ; and
he addressed the Prophecies to the bishop of Lin
coln, a munificent prelate, fond of learning, and dis
tinguished by the knights and noblemen In his train,
and vvho had requested Jeflfry to translate the vatici
nations of MerUn from the British into Latin.*'
*' Jeffry Mon, 1. l. c. l. — He begins his eleventh hook, on the wars
between Arthur and Modred, with saying, that he will write ut in Bri-
tannico sermone invenit et a Galtero Oxenofordensi in multis histoiiis
peritissirao viro audivit. 1. 1 1, c. 1. — and see 1. 7. c. 1 & 2.
*° Several of Jeffry's interspersed observations imply that he has in
part made a book of his own, and not merely translated an author. If
he merely translated, why should he decline to handle particular points
ofthe history because Gildas had already told them, or told them better,
as in 1, 4, c. 20, and 1, i, c, 17. He assumes here a right of shaping his
work as he pleased; as he also does in 1. 11. c. 10. when he declares his
intention of relating elsewhere the Armorican emigrations,
''' L. 7. c. 1 & 2. There is one MS. copy of this work existing, in which
the author dedicates it to king Stephen. Simner Bib. Bern. 2. p. 243,
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 219
Thus highly introduced into the world, and flatter- CHAP.
ing as it did the vanity of the population of Britain, j[^
by deriving it from a nation so immortalized in song anglo-
, m T 1 , . ¦ .. i. NORMAN
as the Trojans, and by giving it a common ancestry verna-
with the Romans, and of equal antiquity, and aided cular
by some political patronage, it was favorably received — v-^
in England. It was also well composed. Jeffry was popularity.
a smooth Latin versifier, and his style is flowing and
easy. The book was full of new and extraordinary
incidents. Its historical fictions were so many inte
resting romances; and it is often so dramatically
and even poetically narrated, that it was peculiarly
adapted to engage the attention of an age, to whose
strong passions and wondering minds, even history
would be more welcome for intermingled fable. It
became so surprisingly popular, notwithstanding its
anachronisms and falshoods, which few could then
detect, and which, even down to our days, have been
more or less defended, that it became a mark of rus
ticity in that age to be unacquainted with it.**
The connexion of our ancient Britons with the
destruction of Troy, was not the invention of Jeffry.
Solinus says, that an altar with Greek letters, in Ca
ledonia, shews that Ulysses had landed there.*^ Am-
mianus Marcellinus, the Roman historian ofthe fourth
century, relates, that in his days some said that Gaul
had been peopled by some of the dispersed Greeks
returning from Troy ;'^ and Nennius briefly derives
'^ So says Alured of Beverly — and he adds—" and while the young
people were committing it to memory, and reciting it agreeably, I often
blushed amid such contabulators, that I had never seen it, I therefore
sought for it; and when I fouud it, I studied it most dilligently,' He
then applied himself to abridge it, for more general circulation. Alur.
Beverl, Ann. I. l, p, 2,
*' Solinus Polyhistor. c. 22,
" Amm, Marcel, 1, 15, c, 9, p. 75.
2-20 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK the Britons from Bruto, the great grandson of the
_^ Trojan iEneas,*' That the Welsh had also ancient
literary genealogies to Belus Mawr, and from him to .^neas,
ENCLrNo!' we learn from Giraldus,*' So that it is clear, the
' — -' — ' story of the Trojan descent of the Britons and Gauls
was floating in the world before Jeff"ry wrote,*'
But all these traditions were vague, rude, and void
of authority or circumstance, before Jeffry's book was
published. In that they appeared in a stately port,
with living forms and features, and with historical
pretensions. Hence his history strongly impressed
the imaginations of the Normans, whose surprising'
successes in France, England, and Sicily, had given
them a taste for the splendid achievements of other
times. From the writings of Wace, we may perceive
that the great revolutions noticed in ancient history,
which, tho true, may be called its romantic periods,
had already been presented to their notice;** and
these cannot be contemplated at any time without
exciting interesting thought. Wace dwells upon the
theme with a visible fondness, and ingeniously mo
ralizes upon it to enforce his inference, that unless
« Nennius Hist, Brit, c, 3 & 4, _ ^ Itin. Camb.
'¦' The French were as anxious for the same line of ancestry. — Am
monius deduces their nation from Francus the son of Hector; and the
Count Caylus remarks, that Paul Warnefred, to please Chariemagne,
made Anchises, the father of iEneas, to be one of the ancestors of the
prelate from whom the Carlovingian princes descended. 11 Hist. Ac.
Insc. p. 417. So in Germany, the emperor Conrad was traced to iEneas,
and his wife to a Trojan family.
08 Wace begins his poem on the History of Normandy, with a recapi
tulation ofthe great events of antiquity — the fall of Thebes.Troy, Nineveh
and Babylon. On Alexander he alludes to the fabulous accounts of his
day — Alisandre fud reis puissanz
Duze regnes prist en duze ans.
And Caesar he describes as,
Cesar ki tanl fist e taut pout
Ki tut le muiid cunquist e out. MS, B. R. 4, c. II.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 221
preserved by letters, all memory of these mighty CHAP.
changes would have perished.*" ^^-
The British History of Jeff'ry electrified the literary
mind of Europe. It startled some ; it amused all.
Many doubted ; most admired ; some disbelieved, and
a few abused it. But It was so much talked of, that
all whom intellectual subjects then interested, and
their number was daily increasing, wished, as we have
remarked from Alured of Beverley, to become ac
quainted with it. The Anglo-Norman ladies, who
seem to have rivalled the men in their literary cu
riosity, partook of the general feeling ;'^" and one
highly beneficial eff'ect soon arose from this universal
popularity — the application of the clerical poets to
compose vernacular histories in verse. Jeffry's Latin
dress was accessible only to the clergy. In Anglo-
Norman verse, the courtier and the knight, the ba
ronial and the female world, could understand and
appreciate it." ^ Tute rien turne en declin,
Tut chiet, tutmoert, tut trait a fin
Tut funt, tut chiet ; rose flaistrist
Cheval trebuche, drap viescist,
Huem moert, fer use, fust purrist
Tutte rien fatte od mein perist.
He then adds the passage quoted in the preceding note l8.
'" Gaimar says that lady distance sent for the book of British History,
and borrowed it — Ele enviad a Helmstac
Pur le livere Walter espac
Robert le grans de Glouceste
Fist translator icele geste.
Solum les liveres as Waleis,
Kil aveient des Bretons reis — '
Dame Custance I'enpruntat
De son seigneur k'ele mult amat.
MS. Bib. Reg. 13. A 21.
" For this reason, Beneoit declares he wrote his hystorie —
Que de latin ou je la truis,
Si je ai le sens e je puis.
La vodrai si en roumanz mestre
Que cil que n'entendra la lestre
Delicier se puisse el roumans. — MS. Hari, 4482,
HISTORYOF ENGLAND.
Wace puts
222 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK One of these popular versifiers was Wace, who, in
_^ his ' Le Brut,' gave his countrymen, not so much a
LITERARY trauslatlou of JeflTry's work, but, what was more im
proving both to them and to himself, a. narrative
poem made from it in rhyming couplets, consisting, in
it into ^"' their most perfect metre, of eight syllables in a line,
verse, ^^^ j^^ ^-^^ j^^g finished verses, deviating into more.'^^
In this performance, he frequently expatiates on
his own resources in the parts that particularly in
terested him. He begins by stating the capture of
Troy, and the escape oi Mneas into Italy; but he
expands nine lines of his original into sixty-eight of
his own. In the same way he dilates Jeffry's ten first
chapters into a thousand lines. But it is unnecessary
to pursue the comparison minutely. We may say in
general, that he takes his facts from his authority,
but tells the story in his own phrase, omitting, ex
panding, and epitomizing as he pleased.
His success with this, and the taste for vernacular
history, wbich was then created, encouraged hira to
new efforts ; and two immense Norman histories in
rhyme proceeded from his pen, the Rou, and the
Chronique de Normandie.'^' He appears to have
devoted himself to this employment, and for some
time at least to have been liberally patronized.'*
" It exists in MS, in Bib. Reg. 13. A 21. also Harl, N° 6508.
" In his roman de Normandie he thus mentions his Rou —
Ai jeo de Roul lugnes cunte
E de sun riche parente
De Normandie, que il cunquist ;
E des proesces que il i fist ;
E de Guilleaume lunge espee
Avura I'estoire avant men^e.
Wace MS. Bib, Reg. 4. c. 1 1.
'* Mais ore puis jeo lunges penser
Livres escrire e translater ;
Faire rumanz e serventeis ;
Tant traverai, tant seit curteis ; '
ANGLO-NORMANVERNA-
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 223
Another of these historical versifiers was Geff'rai CHAP.
Gaimar, whose " Estorie des Engles" follows the J^
Brut of Wace in the MS. in the British Museum.
He ascribes the existence of this work entirely to an
Anglo-Norman lady. He says Dame Custance le cular
gentil caused him to translate It; that he was a year ^ „ " ¦
about it;" that he had procured many English books, Estorie des
and others in Romanz and in I/atin, to complete it; Engles.
that without her aid he could not have finished it;'^*
that she often had the work, often read it in her
chamber, and gave him a- mark of silver for tran
scribing it." Some of his expressions imply, that
he had written, or intended to write, on the Trojan
story ;'^* but the present copy begins where the Brut
leaves off", and ends with William Rufus. He says
Ki tant me diunst e mette en main
Dunt jeo aie un raeis un escrivain.
Ne ki nul autre bien me face
Fors tant mult dit bien Maistre Wace,
Wace MS. Bib. Reg. 4. c. U.
M. Plaquet has published several pages of extracts from the Roman
de Rou, in his Notice sur la Vie de Robert Wace, Rouen, 1824.
™ Ici voil del rei finer ;
Ceste estoire fist translater
Dame Custance la gentil
Gaimar i mist marz e averil
E tuz les duize mais
Ainz kil oust translate des reis.
'* II perchaca mainte esamplaire,
Liveres angleis e par grammaire;
E en romanz e en latin
A jur ken prist triaire a la fin
Si sa dame ne le aidast
Ja a nul jor nel achevast, Gaimar MS, Bib. Reg. 13. A 21,
" Dame Custance en ad I'escrit
En sa chambre sovent le lit;
A ad pur lescrire done
Un marc d'argent art e pese, MS, Ib,
" Tres ke ce dit Gaimar de troie.
II comencat la u Jasun
A la conquere la tuisun. — MS. Ib.
HISTORYOFENGLAND,
224 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK that if he had chosen to have written of king Hebry,
_^- he had a thousand things to say, which a Trouveur,
LITERARY whom he calls David, had not written, nor the queen
of Louvain had possessed." From him we learn, that
David was another of these historical poets ; but his
praise by Gaimar is all that has survived of him.^"
A third great versifier of this school was Beneoit
de Sainte More.*' He chose the Trojan story for his
subject, as a rich and great theme, and also as new.*^
He professes to take it from Dares Phrygius and
Dictys Cretensis. But tho he may have borrowed
his facts from his originals, he trusts to his own
powers for his descriptions and general style. Some
parts he dilates and dramatizes, not unhappily; as in
his narrative of the intercourse between Jason and
Medea. This is concisely told by Dict3's Cretensis;
but Beneoit gives interesting pictures of manners in
'* Ore dit Gaimar, s'il ad garrant
Dei rei Henri, dirrat avant
Ke s'il en volt un poi parler
E de sa vie translater
Tels mil choses en purrad dire
Ke unkes Davit ne fist escrivere
Ne la raine de Luvain
N'en tint le livere en sa main.
Gaimar MS. Bib. Reg. 13. A 21.
^ Bien dit Davit e bien trovat
E la chancon bien asemblat —
Ore mand Davit ke si li pleist
Avant che si pas nel leist
Car sil en volt avant trover
Son livere en pot mult amender. — MS. Ib,
" The copy in the British Museum, Harl, MS. N" 4482, is very neatly
written, and much ornamented,
"' Ceste hystorie nest pas usee
Ne en gaires de liens trouv^e,
Je relraite ne fust encore
Mais Beneois de Sainte More
L'agmencie e faite e dite—
Moyte e lestoire riche e grans
E de grant oevre e de grant fait, Beneoit MS, Ib,
IV,
ANGLO-NORMAN
CULARPOETRY,
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 225
his account of their dresses, her father's city, the CHAF
amusements in his palace, and her splendid bed. He
rises even sometimes to poetry, as in his description
ofthe spring,^* when he is about to introduce Her- verna-
cules and Laomedon; but his prevailing character is
easy narrative, a pleasing metre, and fluent rhyme.**
This work of Beneoit, deserves our more attentive
notice, because Guido de Columna, the judge of
Messena, whose ' Historia Trojana' became so cele
brated in the middle ages, has either taken Beneoit's
poem for his theme, or has tracked his paths. Guido's
work is a prose narration of the wars of Troy. After
mentioning that Homer, Virgil, and Ovid had com
posed on the subject, he refers to the more complete
descriptions of Dictys Cretensis and Dares Phrygius
as his authorities, and ends with saying, that he has
followed Dictys the Cretan in all.** To have built his
work on the same foundation as our Beneoit, is not
indeed a proof of authorial plagiarism, but it leads
us to a suspicion of it, or at least entitles Beneoit to
be remembered as the first who thus made a ' riche
e grans estoire' of the whole Trojan story.
Wace has mentioned that the subject of his Ro- andRoman
. . , de Nor
man de Normandie had been anticipated by Maistre mandie,
*> Quant vint el tems que vers devise
Que herbe us point en la rise
Lorque florissent le ramel
E doucement chantent oisel
Merle mavins e loriol
E estournel e rossignol.
La blanche flors part en I'espine
E reverdoie la gaudine
Quant le tems e dou e souez
Lor partirent del port les nez. —
Beneoit MS. Bib. Reg. 13. A 21.
" M. de la Rue's dissertation on these poets will reward the perusal.
Archaeol. vol. 12. — We owe their discovery to him.
'" Guido dates his own work thus : ' I, Guido de Columna, judex de
Messana, wrote it in the year 1287.' It was printed atStrasburg, i486.
Vol. IV, Q
HISTORYOFENGLAND
226 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK Beneoit, who had written on it by his sovereign's de-
^^- sire.** This work has come down to us, tremendous
litI^ry in its length.*'^ He begins where Dudo begins, and
proceeds to the death of Henry I. He mentions
Alice of Louvaine, this king's last queen, as befriend
ing him ; ** and tho he says, his labor has been grie
vous, he consoles himself by the pleasure he shall
give his seignor Henry II. by his work.*"
All these rhymed histories, altho in truth so weari
some that we are astonished at the patience which
could read, as well as at the perseverance that could
write them, were important accessions to the intellect
^ Oie eu avant qi dire en deit
Jaidit por Maistre Beneit.
Qi cest oure a dire a emprise
Com li reis la disor lui mise
Quant li reis li a roue faire
Laissier la dei si men dei taire.
Wace Norm. Bib. Reg. 4. c. 11.
" He thus twice mentions his name —
L'estorie de Guillaurae fenist ci long espee
Si cum Beneeit la escrite e translatee
Ici comence I'estoire del rei Guillaurae
Si cura Beneeit la translata. MS, Harl. N° 1717. pp.85 & 192.
'° Puis prist femme li reis Henris
Pucele mult vaillant de sei
Qui fu fille au due Godefrei
De Louan ; si out non Aeliz
E si me retrait li escriz. — Beneoit MS. Ib,
I think this Alice is the queen of Louvain mentioned by Gaimar,
® Qual plaisir seit de mun seignor
Del bon rei Henri fiz Maheut,
Que si benigne cum il sent
Seit al oir e al entendre
Nest pas de mes pours I'amendre.
Si soffert jai gref labor
Qual plaisir seit de mun seignor. Beneoit MS. Ib.
I have sometimes doubted if this author was Beneoit de la More, be
cause the style of the Trojan story seems more flowing and cultivated,
Perhaps being more at liberty to use his fancy in that poem, his pen was
improved by his invention.
romances.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 227
of the day. They made reading popular among the chap.
great and fair ; they kindled the wish of these rulers ^^-
of human society to be themselves " inurned in song; "
and by their description and praise of better actions,
they contributed to extinguish such fierce characters
as prevailed at that period. Being easy of compre
hension, they provided an agreeable occupation for
the leisure of the affluent; and thus made literature
one ofthe needful luxuries of life. That they opened
a pathway to natural poetry and original composition,
was a merit that gives them high rank in our literary
history. They excited such a taste for works in rhymed
verse, that in the thirteenth century the rules of mo
nasteries were put into it, as were also the Institutes
of Justinian, and the customs of Normandy.*"
But altho the historic poetry ofthe Anglo-Normans Fictitious
was the first species of Parnassian composition, and
indeed of vernacular literature, which appeared in
England after the Saxon dynasty had been over
thrown, it was not the only kind which was known
and cultivated among our ancestors or in the west
of Europe during the twelfth century. Two other
branches of versified compositions, originating from
other parental stocks, also obtained great attention
and circulation, as well in our own island as on the
Continent, before our native Muse abandoned all
foreign speech, and made its vernacular English the
preferred and permanent diction of all its future
compositions. But this great revolution did not
assume a decided shape till about the year 1 300,
and was gradually completed during the next hun
dred years. Before this arose, from the year 1 1 00 to
1 300, the favorite poems, besides the rhymed histo
ries already noticed in the preceding Chapter, may be
™ Roquefort de la Poes. Franc, p. 252. — La Rue.
Q 2
228 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK distinguished Into two dissimilar classes; one, theFic-
_^ TiTious Romances, written in the Anglo-Norman
LITERARY language, and principally on the knights and court
ENcTfJr of Arthur and the Round Table, which were most
' — ^ — ' popular in this country, and also in that of Charle
magne, which were more valued on the Continent ; —
and the other, the poetry of the Troubadours, in
their Provencal tongue, which, after the accession of
Henry II, became a part of our courtly literature, till
the loss of our dominions in the south of France
occasioned both the language and the poems of this
celebrated class of men to fall into neglect and obli
vion, or rather to be superseded by the original pro
ductions of our national genius, arising in vigorous
growth to new forms and beauties peculiar to itself,
and gradually increasing in their importance and
fertility. The prolixity of the versified histories in time les
sened their popularity; their lengthy and uniform
narrations ceased to interest when the novelty was
over ; the rage for histories in verse expired in sa
tiety. Narrated fiction became more pleasing than
their tedious realities. The Trojan story was found to
interest whenthe Chronique de Normandie could gain
no listeners: and the extraordinary adventures ac
companying the Crusades, made the usual incidents
of common life and business seem flat and unprofit
able. An Arthur that could be exaggerated or fabled
upon, at the pleasure of the imagination, was a far
more delightful person than a William Lung-esp^e, or
than a Henry fiz-Maheut, whose sober actions were
too well known to be misrepresented with credit. A
new description of narrative compositions then pre
vailed, before whose superior charms the estorie gave
way. These were the actual romans, the numerous
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 229
fictions starting at first under the garb, and vaporing CHAP.
with the name of history, but with every incident a ^^-
fable. Some renowned characters in former times anglo-
were taken as the basis of the story, as Arthur, verna^
Charlemagne, and Alexander, but on their foundation cular
1 • • 1 1 1 1 J POETRY.
the writer raised what superstructure ne pleased. < — , —
In these, likewise, the indefatigable Wace led the ^g^/Jj^r
way. His Chevalier au Lion seems to be one of the au Lion.
earliest fictitious romans that has descended to our
knowlege.®^ But he was soon followed by an end
less and motley train."*
That there were tales and traditions in circulation
about Arthur, before either Jeffry or Wace, both these
writers acknowlege." JeflTry's book seems to have
" M. Galland mentions that the MS. of this romance, which he in
spected, dates its composition II55 — Thus
Mil e cent cinquante ans
Fit Maistre Gasse ce romance. ^ Mem. Ac. 468.
Yet M. Plaquet ascribes this Romance to Chretien de Troyes ; which
cannot be if these verses are a part of it. The Chevalier au Leon is sup
posed to be the French original of the ' Ywaine arid Gawin,' published
by Mr, Ritson ; if so, I should suppose it to have been a Breton tale,
^ In the British Museum, Bib. Reg. 15. E6. is a large handsome MS.
folio that contains several French romances, viz. Charlemagne, Ogier le
Danois, and Chevalier au Signe, in verse — and Alexandre, Montauban,
Roy Pontus, and Guy de Warwick, in prose. The MS. 8. F 9, contains
Guy de Warwyck, in eight foot verse, rhymed. — The MS, 16. G 2. the
quatrefilz d'Aymon. — The MS. 20. B 19. has les Gestes de Garin, in
French verse— and the MS. 20. D 2. and 20. D 3. consists of Tristram,
and Lancelot du Lac, in prose. — ^The MS, 14. E 3, contains the pon
derous St. Graal. — These will sufficiently satisfy any general curiosity on
this subject.
"^ Jeffry Hist. 1. 1 . c, 1 . ; and Wace, in these passages of his Brut —
Fist Artur la ronde table
Dunt Breton dient meint fable. —
He says, in this great country
Furent les merveilles privees
E les avantures trov^es,
Ke de Artur sunt controvees,
E a fables sunt tumeis. —
He adds, Tant ont li conlur conte
E lui fablur tant fabld. Sec,
Q 3
HISTORYOFENGLAND.
230 HISTORY OF ENCJLAND,
BOOK been the parent of some of the romans on Arthur;
^^- but the numerous incidents which others describe, of
LITERARY this king and his knights, which have no resemblance
to any thing in Jeflfry, may have been derived from
the Breton tales.®* The story of Tristram discovers
its Breton origin in every part ; ®^ the San Graal, and
many of the round table lays, point to the same source.
Hence the most rational idea which we can form of
the origin of the three great classes into which we
have distinguished the poems that prevailed in Eng
land and in Europe, before the full reign of the
English vernacular and native poetry ; after weigh
ing all theories and circumstances, will be, to refer
the VERSIFIED HISTORIES to the Anglo-Norman
clergy; the Romances and Tales, to the Breton
bards, the Trouveurs, the Jongleurs, and the Minstrels
of the first part of the Middle Ages; and the more
cultivated Provencal poesy, to those Troubadours
whose actual origin is less discoverable by our cu.
rioslty, and who will be more particularly noticed in
the Fifth volume of this History.
" The above extracts from Wace are such decisive evidence of the ex
istence ofthe Breton lays about Arthur, that Bretagne has certainly
great claims to the origin of thiscyclus of romance — the earliest, perhaps,
that appeared in England and France.
^ niiere is a Drem-ruz famous in the Breton history. I have some
times asked whether he was the Tristram of romance, who is always
made a Breton prince. Diem ruz inverted would be ruz-drem — It means
ruddy-face. — M. Douce, in answer to my query, says, ' The inverted
name of Tramtris was given to Tristram in his infancy, when he was bred
up as the son of a person not his parent. He more than once assumes the
name in the course of the romance — once as the tutor of Iseult, and again
when disguised as a merchant.'
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 231
the ro
mances on
CHAP. V.
The Romances upon Arthur and the Knights of the
Round Table.
A S the earliest romances which appeared either in Origin of
England, in Normandy or in France, were those on
Arthur and his knights, it is natural for an English- Arthur
man to inquire from what source or country they
originated. In the appendix to the first edition of the first
volume of the Anglo-Saxon History, published in
1799, some circumstances were mentioned, which
made the author desirous to ascertain, whether the
tales of the romancers on Arthur and his knights did
not originate in Wales and Bretagne.'
It was also remarked, that the coincidence between
several things mentioned in these tales, and those pre
served in the Welsh traditions of Arthur and his
friends, could have arisen only from communication;
and that the Bretons must have been the medium thro
which the Welsh narrations got into France.'' A simi
lar opinion was afterwards expressed by Mr, Leyden,^
and adopted by Mr. G. Ellis.* In the second edi
tion of Anglo-Saxon History, published in 1807,*
the author remarked on the colonization of Bretagne
from the British islands, and shewed that druids, a
J Hist. Anglo-Sax, V, I. p. 389. 1st ed. 1799. '¦' Ib, 383.
- See his Introduction to his Complaint of Scotland.
¦• In his ' Early English Metrical Romances,' p. 33.
' Anglo-Sax. V, 1. p. 108-116, 2d ed. 4°.
Q 4
HISTORYOF ENGLAND,
232 HISTORY Olf ENGLAND,
BOOK branch of the ancient bards of Britain, were in that
^^- province In the fourth century ; and reasoned, that
LITERARY from the subsequent emigrations of both chiefs and
people from our island to Bretagne, and from the fact,
that bards were a part of the household of every
chieftain's family, there must have been bards, and
a cultivation of poetry in Bretagne during the sixth
and seventh centuries. Some circumstances were
mentioned, which made it probable that the Breton
bards would gradually deviate into more popular
poetry ; and from the peculiarities of their new situ
ations, and the necessity of acquiring subsistence,
would seek rather to amuse the people by tales, than
by the artificial verses which they had composed in
Britain and Wales,* A decisive evidence that there
were in the sixth and seventh centuries, in Armorica
and Wales, wandering bards or minstrels, who de
scended from their original loftiness of character to
humbler eflforts, to please the people by more amusive
tales and songs, was given in a translation of a Satire
of Taliesin, distinctly describing and expressly writ
ten to reproach this new, and, as he thought, demora
lizing vagrant from the ancient British Parnassus.'^
In 1815, M. de la Rue, to whom we are indebted
for first bringing to the public notice some of our most
ancient Norman poems, by his letters on them read
before the Antiquarian Society, and printed in its
Archaeologia,* published a work on the Bards of Bre-
° This passage was omitted in the editions of the Anglo-Saxon History
since the second, and has been inserted in the new edition of the Vin
dication ofthe Ancient British Bards, which has been added to the 4th
edition ofthe Anglo-Saxon History. V. 3. p. 552-7.
' This is now reprinted in the Vindication, 3 Anglo-Sax. 556-7. 4lh ed.
' In the 13th and 14th volumes.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES, 233
tagne,* which urges the same idea, of the early French chap.
romances having originated from them. About the ^¦
same time, M. de Roquefort inclined to the belief, romances
that the Anglo-Normans had adopted the Breton "''°'*
_ _ c JT ARTHUR
traditions among others.'" and the
Mr. Douce has since declared his opinion to be, table!
that the tales of Arthur and his knights, which have ' — " — '
appeared in so many forms, and under the various
titles ofthe St. Graal, Tristam de Leonnois, Lancelot
du Lac, &c. were not immediately borrowed from the
work of JeflFry of Monmouth, but from his Armoric
originals." The late editor of Warton's History of English
Poetry (1824,) whose elaborate preface shews both
his research and his ability, has intimated that ' every
further investigation of the subject only tends to
support this opinion.'"* These concurring opinions
satisfy the present author, that in looking into Bre
tagne and Wales for the origin of the romances on
Arthur and his knights, he was not misled by a mere
visionary conjecture. Mr. Warton had also glanced
' Recherches sur les Ouvrages des Bardes de la Bretagne Armerique.
Caen 1815.
'° See his 'Etat de la Poesie Fraiicoise dans les 13 & 13 siecles.'
Paris, 1815. p. 46, &c. To this intelligent inquirer we also owe the Glos-
saire ofthe Langue Roraane, the publication ofthe Lais de Marife, and
other valuable works.
" Warton'sHistory of English Poetry, 8° ed. 1824. l Diss, xvi, note g,
I am happy to find the opinion expressed in the second edition of the
Anglo-Saxons, 4">, p. 1 14. that Breton tales existed before Jeffry pub
lished, sanctioned by the belief of a gentleman so conversant in our old
romances as M. Douce.
" The editor also justly says, 'The concurrent testimony of the French
romances, is now admitted to have proved the existence of a large body
of fiction relative to Arthur, in the province of Brittany ; and while they
confirm the assertions of Jeffry in this single particular, it is equally clear
that they have neither echoed his language, nor borrowed his materials.',
Pref, p. 99,
234 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
his eye on Armorica, but it was with a belief, not
that Welsh, but that Arabian fictions had been im
ported into it."
That there were poets, or a class of bards of a more
popular kind than the ancient insular ones, flourishing
and favored in Bretagne after the fifth century, and
before the Norman conquest, was shewn upon ancient
authorities, in the reprint of the Vindication of the
Ancient British Poems, which was added to the fourth
edition of the History of the Anglo-Saxons.'* This new
description of bards, so degenerated in the opinion
of the successors of the ancient ones, but so much
more pleasing to the feelings of their contemporaries,
are also noticed in the ancient Welsh triads ; for one
of these triads mentions, that the ancient bard ism
was corrupted by three peoples ; and names the Bre
tons of Armorica as one who had deteriorated it.''
But the most popular subject which tbe bards of
Bretagne could have chosen to interest the British
colonists, who bad new-peopled it, must have been
the brave resistance of themselves or their ancestors
and relatives to their hated enemies the Saxons. The
indignant exiles would be interested by this topic
more than by any other, because with most of the
patriotic chieftains they had either kinship or connec-
" Hist. Poetry, l Diss, p. 3. This able man, who has thrown so much
light on our ancient poetry, and was the first tbat explored its long-for
gotten recesses, was so prepossessed with his oriental theory, as to assert
that tlie Chronicle of Jeffry of Monmouth 'entirely consists of Arabian
inventions.' p. xiv.
" See in particular the remarks and citations in pp. 543-6, and U8-
558, Hist. Anglo-Sax, V. 3. 4th ed.
" It may be thus translated : ' Three nations corrupted what was
taught them of the bardism of the bards of the isle of Britain, by blend
ing it with vague notions, and on that account they lost it — the Gwyd-,
delians, the Cymry ofLlyddazv, and the Almans.'
ROUND
TABLE,
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES, 23-5
tion. But as time rolled on, and new generations arose chap.
in Bretagne, who would become more attached to their ^-
native soil than to the sea-divided land of their fore- romances
fathers ; and as new habits and ideas, springing from ^^°j[pR
the new circumstances of the Bretons, would make and the
novelty more popular ; and as the facts of history
were become transformed by tradition into fictions
more agreeable ; it was natural that the wars with
the Saxons should become obsolete, and that the
favorite heroes of the Breton poets should be recol
lected and combined with incidents more analogous
to their local vicinage, and to the new manners of
the day. Poets change their themes to please their
audience ; and hence, to the names which patriotic
feeling and ancient tradition had so long venerated,
the manners and actions of the middle ages became
gradually attached : of these names, Arthur was the
most renowned and the most admired.
He had combated in various parts of the mother
country, and was therefore universally known ; he
was a patron of bards, and a bard himself ; his death
furnished a striking catastrophe ; and the uncer
tainty of his grave threw a romantic mystery over all
his character ; and several of his personal friends
emigrated to Bretagne : these reasons seem to make
it natural that the actions of Arthur should have been
the favorite subject of the bardic genius. Indeed
so greatly were the people of Bretagne interested in
his fame, that Alanus de Insulis tells us, that even
in his time (the twelfth century) they would not be
lieve that their favorite was dead. " If you do not
believe me, go into Bretagne, and mention in the
streets and villages that Arthur is really dead like
other men, you will not escape with impunity; you
18
HISTORYOF ENGLAND.
236 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK will be either hooted with the curses of your hearers,
_^ or stoned to death." '" Trouveurs,'^ Troubadours,
LITERARY aud mouklsh versifiers,'* combine to express the same
idea. Hence it appears very probable that the bards
of Bretagne were the first inventors and composers
of the romances concerning Arthur. Being more
removed from the scenes of his actions, they in
dulged themselves in greater licence in exaggerating
them ; and indeed, how could they exaggerate too
much for hearers who could not be convinced that he
was dead, tho seven centuries had revolved since his
disappearance ! But it would be more gratifying to
the Breton feelings to connect their favorite prince
with incidents less disastrous than those which drove
them from Britain; and their poets found more be
nefit from dressing Arthur and his friends in a ficti
tious glory, than in the melancholy drapery of their
real history. Hence the chivalric costume and trans
actions of the day were ascribed to them ; and when
Walter the archdeacon went into Bretagne, he found
these fabulous narrations afloat. He embodied them
into a regular narration, or he translated some col-
'^ Alanus de Insulis, p. 17. This author was born 1 109. From this
foolish chimera, ' Arturem expectare' became a proverb, to denote ex
cessive credulity. Quibus si credideris
Expectare poteris
Arturem cum Britonibus, — Pet. Bless. Ep. 57.
" So Wace, in I155:—
' Uncore i est ; Breton I'atendent,
Si com il dient e entendent
de la vendra uncore pot vivere,
MS. Brut. Bib. Reg, 13. A 21,
" So the Trobadour, Mathicu de Querci, says, about 1276, 'As
much as the Bretons have wept and still weep for the good kiii<' Arthur,'
2 Palaye, 262. °
" Jos. Iscanus also shows this; for in his poem de bello Trojano, he
says— Sic Britonem ridenda fides et credulus error
Arturum expectat, expectabit que perenne, — L, 3, L, 472.
237
CHAP, V.
AND THE
ROUNDTABLE.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES.
lection of them, and gave them to the world as history.
Till then, the Breton language had greatly concealed
them from the rest of the world. But his Latin work, ^°j;^'^''="
decorated with the solemn name of History, gave arthur
them credit and dignity, and diffused them thro
Europe, tho it did not originate them.
As the Breton tales came into fashion, Arthur be
came the popular hero ; *" because his countrymen
and their descendants were the first romance com
posers. It is indeed probable, that the Breton tales
had become known in England and Normandy be
fore Jeffry published. In Athelstan's time, many
Breton nobles and their followers fled from the Nor
man sword, and sought an asylum in the court of
Athelstan ; who received them kindly " : and be
tween his reign and the Norman conquest, the vici
nity of Normandy and Bretagne, and their frequent
intercourse of war and friendship, must have com
municated to the Normans some of the popular tales
of tbe Breton nation.'® The fact, that almost all the
heroes of the romances about Arthur may be found
in the Welsh triads, or poetry, strengthens the argu
ment, that the romances on Arthur and the round
table originated in Bretagne; and that the Welsh
and Armorican bards were their first inventors.
"' We cannot wonder that so many romances were composed about
Arthur, when we observe what Alanus de Insulis says ofhis celebrity in
the twelfth century : ' Who does not speak of him ? He is even more
known in Asia than in Britain, as our pilgrims returning from the East
assure us. Egypt and the Bosphorus are not silent; Rome, the mistress of
cities, sings his actions. Antioch, Armenia, Palestine, celebrate his deeds.
Thus was Meriin's prophecy fulfilled.' He adds the passage already
cited, " Athelstan not only received Malhuedoi, the sovereign of Bretagne,
whom the Normans had dethroned, hut became the sponsor of his son,
and educated and nourished him to manhood, and assisted him to regain
the throne ofhis ancestors, Chron. Namnet. Restit. ap. Bouq. p. 276,
'' Mr. Ellis says, truly, ' The Norman poets themselves frequently
profess 10 have derived their stories from a Breton original. Early En
glish Metrical Romances, p. 34,
HISTORYOF ENGLAND,
238 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK Most ofthe names of the persons and places men-
^^- tioned in these romances, on Arthur and his knights,
LITERARY arc to be found in the ancient Welsh remains that
still survive to us ; which is a strong indication of
their primitive source. The Anglo-Norman poetess,
Marie, of the thirteenth century, also declares, that
she took her lays from Breton sources ; ^^ and these
mention so many places and persons of Bretagne or
Great Britain, as to prove, by their internal evidence,
tbat their original authors must have been from one
or other of these countries ; ^ and thus her poems
confirm the former evidence, that the Bretons had
bards, poets or minstrels, who composed romantic
tales. From all these circumstances, it seems to be a
safe historical inference, that the romances on Arthur
and the Round Table originated in Bretagne,'" and
most probably entered into that country from Wales,
^ Marie expressly declares, that she had heard the lays recited, and
what she had heard she has rimed
Des lais pensai k'oi aveie —
Plusurs en ai oi center
Ne voil I'aisser nes oblier ;
Rimez en ai, et fait diti^
Soventes fiez en ai veillie, Roquefort Marie, p. 44.
I had selected the passages in which she refers to her Breton authori
ties, but as I find most of them quoted in the new edition of Warton
Ixxvii-lxxxii, I will only quote the pages I had noted : pp. 50. 1 12. 1 14.
136. 138. 250. 252. 270. 314. 326. 367. 400. 484. 540. 542. 580.
" Thus in Equitain, Nantz, p. 114. In La Frene, Dol, p. 164. Iir
Lauval, Arthur, Carduel, Logres (Llogyr, the Welsh name for England,)
the Escos and Pis (the Scots and Picts,) p. 202. Gaiwains and Ivains
(Gwalchmar and Owen,J p. 220. D. Cornwall, 234. Avalon, p. 250.
In Cbevrefeuille ; Tristram, King Markes, South Wales, Cornuwaile and
Tintagel, 388-392. In Eleduc; Bretaine the Mineure, Loegre, Totness,
Exeter, 400-58. In Graelent ; Bretaigne, 486. In D'Ywenec; Caer-
went ; the Duglas ; Incole (Lincoln ;) Ireland, Caeriien, 272-306. In
Milon; South Wales, Northumbre, Southampton, 328-350. InL'Epine;
Caeriion, Bretaigne, 542 ; and, in Laustic, the Breton name for the night
ingale, and St. Malo, 314, 315.
^ M. Roquefort is of the same opinion. He remarks, that the greatest
part ofthe persons are Armorican ; that the scene is always in Little or
Great Britain ; and that the Bretons have been so fond of their fairies
as to still have in their country the fairy rock, the fairy grotto, the fairy
valley, the fairy fountain, &c. See his Poesies de Marie, V, 1, 32-4. He
DURINO the middle ages, , 2.19
That in the eleventh century, just before the chap.
earliest of these romances appeared, the Breton in-
tellect was in an active and productive state, we may romances
infer from the observation of bishop Otto, who near
that period wrote, " Bretagne is full of clerks, who
have acute minds, and apply them to the arts." ^^
The famous Abelard, born before iioo, and his
master Roscelin, were Bretons ; and Abelard's father,
a Breton knight, was so fond of letters, that tho
his son was his eldest child, he would, very unlike
the custom of the feudal nobility of other countries,
have him well instructed in letters befoi'e he learnt
the use of arms.*^
These facts imply strongly the cultivation of the
Breton mind at that period ; ^ and shew, that while
the love of literature was then dormant all around, it
was pervading this peculiar and maritime province,
which had a history, an ancestry, and a language
diflferent from the rest of France.'*'
adds, that the Isle of Saine, where the fairies lived ; the forest of Bre-
chelians near Quintin, where the tomb of Merlin was placed; the foun
tain of Barenton, and the wonderful Penon, were all placed in Bretagne.
Roquefort Marie, 33.
'" Otto Fris. c. 47. p. 433.
^ See Abelard's Works, as quoted hereafter.
^ We may also remember, that Turpin's printed book remarks, that of
Hoel count of Nantz, and therefore a Breton chief, whom he places with
Charlemagne, a ballad was sung, 'Usque in hodiernam diem.' Some
MSS. support tbe application of this passage to Hoel, but most give it to
Ogier ihe Dane.
^ On this subject two important intimations are given by Pitts and
Bale, wbich we must rather recollect than lean upon. The first mentions,
as Warton noticed, that an ' Eremita Britannus, A. D. 720,' wrote on
the St, Graal, and on Arthur and on his round table and knights. Pitts,
p. 122. Tanner mentions that Bale saw some fragments of this work.
Bib. 263. He also, with Pitts, ascribes to 'Gildas Quartftes,' whom he
places in fi6o, — ' Works on Arthur — de milite Leonis ; de milite Qua
drigae; de Percevallo et Lanceloto; de Galguano et aliis,' p. 122. Pitts,
166. Tanner in his Bib. p. 319. has inserted this Gildas, and these titles
of his alleged works. As no MSS. of any of these works exist, the asser.
tions of these bibliographers cannot be taken as historical certainties :
et we have no reason absolutely to reject them. It certainly corresponds
240 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK The earliest romance that was composed ^n the
VI- subject of Arthur, appears to have been that on
Tristan. It seems to have been written in prose, and
probably in Latin, if the assertion, that Luces de Gast
translated it, be correct ; ^° and if in Latin, we must
refer it to some of those clerical authors, who appear
to have been the first cultivators of every branch of
the middle age literature.
It was afterwards versified by Chretien de Troyes,
before the twelfth century closed,^' and, either in prose
or verse, must have been in circulation soon after the
middle of that period, as it is quoted by a trouba
dour who was then flourishing.*'' It was in the reign
with all the probabilities of the subject, that there should be books or
tales on Arthur long before Jeffry of Monmouth. The expressions of
Wace import strongly that there were many Breton tales about the Round
Table, and about Arthur, before his time , which, as he was a contem
porary of Jeffry of Monmouth, must have been independent of this
history. — Of the Round Table, he says —
Fist Artur la ronde table
Vunt Breton dient meinte fable.
So he remarks, that numerous tales existed of Arthur:
Tant ont li conture conte
e lui fablar tant fable
Pur lui contes enbeler
Ke tuz les funt a fables tenir. MS. Bib. Reg. 13. A 21.
As Wace finished his work in 11 55, the above is good evidence of Breton
tales then abounding, exclusive of Jeffry's book; and as his verbs are in
the past tense, the fair inference is, that these tales were of a previous
date and origin.
*• Roquefort dates it in 1 170. The MS. in the Royal Library at Paris,
N° 6977, ascribes it to Luces. But the one of Rusticien de Pise, men
tions Luces as only beginning it. On the subject of the original Tristan,
and on the claims preferred by Sir Walter Scott, and disputed on strong
grounds by the last editor of Warton, of Thomas the Rymer being its
author, I will refer the reader to his poem as published with notes by sir
Walter, and to the remarks added to Warton, I. p. 181-198.
" M. Roquefort places his work in 1180. This author died in II91.
Etat. Poes. 148.
'' It is Pons de Capdeuil who thus notices it : —
Domna genser qu'ieu sai,
Mais vos am ses bausia
No fetz Tristans s'amia
E nuill pro non hi ai. — Anguis Poet. Fr. 1. p. 17.
DUIUlMG THE MIDDLE AGES. 241
of Henry II., whose eldest son, that died in his life- chap.
time, was, while he lived, Henry III., that the prin- ^"
cipal romances on the Round Table were translated romances
or composed ; and of some of these, Walter Mapes arthur
is named as the translator. and the
This romance was soon followed by the St. Graal, table.
GIron le Courtois, Lancelot, Mort du Roi Artur, " '" '
Merlin, and several others. The connexion of Breton
tales with the romances and ancient poetry of France
is indeed a very curious subject, which has been too
little attended to. The want of materials may have
caused the neglect ; but it deserves a careful in
vestigation. In our fifth volume of this History, we
shall notice the fact, that even the singular topics
and manners of the Provencal Troubadours have
some unexpected association with the Breton tales,''
Marie also mentions Tristan, But for the multifarious facts and reason
ings that have been published on this subject, the reader may consult
Mr. Warton's history, in tbe last edition ; Mr. Douce and Mr. Park's
notes inserted in it ; and the works or essays of Mr. G. Ellis, Ritson, sir
Walter Scott, M. Weber, Mbns. Roquefort, Le Beuf, Ravalliere, Galland,
who, with others, have all thrown some Ught on this obscure but curious
topic. ^ As some of tbe prose romances are stated, by their authors or
transcribers, to have been written for our king Henry III. I have begged
Mr. Douce to favor me with the colophons to some of his Romances,
especially as they also make the celebrated Walter Mapes one of their
compilers. From his transcript of the colophons, I take the following cir
cumstances. The second part of the S' Graal, MS. Bib. Reg. 14 E 3.
says these adventures ' furent mises en escrit et gardees en I'abeie de
Salesbieres dontmaistres Gautiers Map traist a faire son livre del S' Graal
pour I'amour del roi Henri sen seigneur qi fist I'estoire translater de Latin
en franchois.'— So the MS. Tristan, Bib. Reg. 20. D 2.— The MS. Mort.
d'Artur of Mr. Douce, gives not only the San Graal, but also I'Estoire
de Lancelot, to Mapes. In Mr. Douce's MS. Mort de Tristan, the ,
author ascribes his work to the request of li rois Henri 3. d'Angleterre.
He calls himself Helies de Borron, and mentions Messrs. Lucez and
Robert de Baron as writing on these subjects, and Gautier Maz qui fist
le propre livre de Lancelot. In the prologue to the first edition of Tristan,
the author says, ' Je Luce Chevalier Seigneur du Chateau de Gast, voisiu
prochain de Salesbieres en Angleterre ay voulu rediger,' &c.^.In the
romance of Meliadus de Leonnois, its author, Rusticien de Pise, speaks
of finishing (I presume in prose) le livre du Brut, and that Henry was
charmed with it. He says Luces de Jau began to translate a part of
Vol. iv, R
LITERARY
HISTORYOF
212 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK the Tristran into French ; that Gasses le blonc qui estoit parent au roi
yp Henry afterwards took it up; and after him, Gaurier Map; qui fu che-
vaher le roy et devisa I'hystoire de Lancelot du Lac; that Robert de
Borron applied to it, et Helye de Borron par la Priere du dit Robert de
Borron. He mentions again his Brut — He expatiates again on the plea
sure Henry took in these works ; he invites poor as well as rich to read
ENGLAND.^ them ; and declares he found them in Latin, He says, he sees that les
plus sages et les plus prisez d'Angleterre sont ardans et desirans to hear
these deeds, and that Henry had given him deux beaulx chasteaulx. He
asks what name he shall give his book, and he adds, such as shall please
King Henry, who desired, that as it was to treat on courtesy, it might
begin with Palamedes, than whom there was nul plus courtois chevalier,
— ^The romance of Giron le Courtois, the same author, Rusticiens de
Puise, says be compiled from the book of his lord Edward I. when he
went to Palestine. — The above is probably all we can now know of the
authors or translators of the prose romances. — The MS. prose Romans
of the late duke of Roxhrough contained similar colophons.
Some writers doubt if Luce, tbe Borrons and Rusticien, be real
authors; but the doubt is mere surmise. There is no evidence to con
tradict the enumeration made by Rusticien, of the authors who had pre
ceded him, nor to disprove his own reality. I do not see any sufficient
reason for the actual authors hiding themselves in that age under the
guise of fictitious personages. This is quite different from the case of
ascribing works to personsof former celebrity or of known importance.
We may add to the above remarks, that at the end of one of the MSS,
in the Royal library at Paris, Cod. 6783, on Lancelot du Lac, occur
these words : ' Mes en Francois par Robert de Borron, par le coraraande-
ment de Henri roi d'Angleterre.' Add. to Warton, V. 1. p. 160. The
translation of such a French romance, by Henry Lonelich Skynner, in
Bennet college library, Cambridge, which has been introduced to us by
the editor of the last edition of Warton, thus mentions Borron : —
Wiche that Maister Robert of Borrown
Out of Latyn it transletted hoi and soun
Onlich into the langage of Frawnce, — 1 War. p. 154.
All the above authorities that refer any of these works to Walter
Mapes, shew that the Henry spoken of, is either Henry II. or his son
Henry, who was crowned in his life-time, and therefore who was, while
he lived, Henry III. Our antiquaries must recollect this, when Henry III.
is mentioned in the old romances, as this expression is applicable to him
as well as to the historical Henry III. and other circumstances must
determine which of these two kings is the person really meant. It is
too common and too natural, without this remembrance, to ascribe, fts
Mr. Warton and most have done, all these references to John's son,
Henry III.; altho, while the son of Henry II. of the same christian
name lived, after his father had crowned him, he was Henry III. in the
popular eye and tongue. — But happening to die before his parent, and not
surviving to become his successor, his royal title has almost disappeared
from our history, and no other Henry III. is now generally known or regu
larly noticed but that son and successor of John, whose reign was distin
guished for its unusual length.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 2i:{
CHAP. VL
0« Turpin's History of Charlemagne, and the Romances
upon this Emperor and his Peers; and on Alexander.
Another class of romances, which amused the
grave and gay in the first part of the middle ages,
were those which were connected with Charlemagne.
These do not seem to have been popular in England,
nor among the Anglo-Normans ; but as they form an
inseparable branch of the fictitious compositions of
this period ; as one historical romance connects bis
exploits with our island ; ' as they have always re
ceived some attention from our antiquaries, and as
some points about them have not yet been correctly
elucidated, a few pages of this History will be occu
pied by their consideration.
They have been usually supposed to have ori
ginated from the fabulous history which appeared on
the continent as the account of the actipns of Char
lemagne, under the name of Turpin, archbishop of
Rheims, ast he MSS. of the work usually name him ;*
but of Tulpin, as he is called in the first part of one
MS. at Vienna.'
That there was an archbishop of Rheims named
Tilpin in the time of Charlemagne, is clear, from the
' This circumstance is detailed in the following note.''^
' This work was first printed in the Germ, Rer. Quat, Frankf. 1 566,
and again in the Vet, Script, Germ, Reuberi, Hanov, 1619. Mr. Wartou
thought it was compiled after the Crusades. 1 Diss. p. 20.
' Lambecius has described this MS. in his Bib. Caes. V. 2. p. 329-334-
The fii St part names him Tulpin, in an account taken from his book ; but
it is followed by the actual work, and in that he is called Turpin, as in
every other copy of it that I have seen. R a
HISTORYOF ENGLAND.
244 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK Pope's letter addressed to him, and from his epitaph
^^- recorded by Flodoard,* whose History of Rheims
LITERARY cuds about 966, at which time its author lived. But
the facts, that such a person, with such a name,
did exist, seem to be all that is true in this once
applauded work.'
It has been a matter of much debate, when the
real author of this work lived, and at what time it
first became known. Erroneously placed in the tenth
century by one person," it has been since consigned
more justly to the twelfth. A prose romance '^ was
taken from it, which expresses its own date to have
been 1200. But a little before this year, a prior of
Vigeois prefixed to his transcript of it a preface. In
which he says, it had been then lately brought to him
out of Spain.* It is, however, mentioned still earlier
than this, in a MS. history of Charlemagne' in the
Vienna library, which was composed about 1 1 70, in
" Flodoard, in his History of the Church at Rheims, lias inserted ex
tracts from the Pope's epistles to Tilpin, in his 1. 2. c. 13. 16 and 17.
Hincmar composed his epitaph, which states him to have been above
forty years in his see. 16 Mag. Bib. Pat. p. 671. Charlemagne obtained
the pall for him from Adrian. Ib. Tilpin came to this see from St. Denys.
Ib. p.670.
° Le Beuf remarks that the real Turpin died twenty years before
Charlemagne, instead of surviving him, as the fabulous Turpin states.
Hist. Acad, v, 10. p. 249.
" Masca in his Hist. Beam. This date was on the apparent authority
of one Julian, who pretended to have lived in 1160, But Antonio shews
that all Julian's works are supposititious. Le Beuf, ib. 252.
' The MS. of this in theBrirish Museum says, ' Raiiiald de Boloine-^
la fist en romanz translater del Latin a duze cens ans del incarnation.
MS. Bib. Reg. 4. c. 1 1, It mentions that Rainald wished it to be written
without rhyme, as if rhymed romans on the same subject were then extant.
Le Beuf mentions a MS, which says, that Renauz de Boloigne sought for
it among the books of St. Denys, and translated it en romance, )206.
p. 363. And another MS. which declares that Michael de Hainess in
quired for it among the books of Reenaut, count of Boulogne, and trans
lated it from Latin to Romanz, in 1207. Ib. 362.
* ' Nuper ad nos ex Esperia delates gratauter excepi.' Gaufridus Vos
ap Oienhart Vascon, p. 398.
HISTORYOFCHARLE-
DPRING THE MIDDLE AGES. 240
-which thewriter refers to it; as Vvhat he had seen at CHAP.
St. Denys in France.^ ^^'
An allusion to Roland and his sword, in Rodulf turpin's
Tortaire, would, from the time he lived, place it before
1135.'" No direct information carries it to an earlier magne.
period than this, except that which connects it with
pope Calixtus II.
As to its genuine author, besides the mere specu
lations of Grypbeander," and of those who would
make him a Spaniard,"* as others think it betrays
a Breton hand, '^ the most important is the specific
assertion of Guy AHard, that its proper date is
' Lambecius describes it as the 9th Codex. The preface to its third
book says, ' We begin with that epistle which we found in the .chronicle
of the Francs at St. Denys, in France, which Tulpinus, abp. of Rheims,
had transmitted to Leoprand.' — And the five following chapters are
obviously taken from Turpin's book Lamb. 2. p. 332.
'" Le Beuf has quoted the poem, in the Vatican, of Rodulfe' Tortaire,
who lived in our Henry the first's time. It thus mentions Roland and
his sword — Ingreditur patrium gressu properante cabiculum,
Diripit a clavo, clamque patris gladium,
Rutland! fuit iste, viri virtute potentis '
Quem patruus magnus Karolus, huic dederat,
Et Rutland us eo semper pugnare solebat, ,
Millia pagani inulta hecaus'pojiuli.
This quotation places the story of Roland before 1135, when our Henry 1,
died. See Abbe le Beuf's dissertation in 10 Hist. Acad. Inscrip, p. 245.
Yet it is possible that this incident may have been a part of the popular
tales about Roland.
" This writer would ascribe it to Robertus de Monte, one of the his
torians ofthe first Crusade. See his Weichb. Sax. p. 50.
" Le Beuf, Ib. p. 253. — Tbe prose MS. life of Charlemagne in the
British Museum, Bib. Reg. 4. c. 1 1. begins with saying, that those who
wish, may oir la veritede Espane sulunc le latin del estoire, &c. That
the Spaniards had traditions about Charlemagne, we learn from Roderic
Toletanus. He rejects the accounts of Charlemagne's victories in Spain,
as fables; but he mentions, without discrediting it, the tale ofhis banish
ment by his father Pepin, his asylum with Galafer, the Arab king of
Toledo, and the marriage of this king's daughter. Rod. Tol. I. 4- c 1 1-
Gaufridus^ the prior of Vosges, who wrote a little before 1200, received
t from Spain, See before, note °,
'^ See M, Leyden's Compkynt of Scotland, Dissert, p. 263; and Mr.
Ellis's remarks, 2 Spec. Romances, p. 287.
a 3
HISTORYOF ENGLAND
246 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK 1092, and that it was written at Vienne, by a monk
Z!l of St. Andrie.'*
literary The passage in Wace, that a minstrel preceded
William's army at the battle of Hastings, singing on
Charlemagne, Roland, Oliver, and the vassals who
died at Charlemagne,'^ seems to be reasonable evi
dence that he had this work in his mind when he
composed his own, which he dates in 11 55 ; and this
is supposed to be but a more descriptive account of
the analogous fact mentioned by Malmsbury, that the
" Cantilena Rollandi " was so begun ; '" and the in
ference has been made that Turpin's book preceded
even William's expedition.
But to this supposition two objections may be
made ; one, that ballads may have existed on Roland
and Charlemagne before Turpin's book was com
posed ; and the other, which I have ventured to
suggest, that the Norman Roland may not have been
the warrior and nephew of Charlemagne.
On the first point it is acknowleged, in Turpin's
work, that songs on one of his heroes were in exist
ence anterior to his writing."^ Another chapter of
'¦* Hist, Dauph, 224. — It is to be regretted that this very concise au
thor has given no reasons or evidence for his opinion. It stands as a
mere ipse dixit ; and yet he writes as if he had facts iu his knowlege, from
which he formed it. It is obviously not like Grypheander's, a mere spe
culation. '* This passage, often quoted, is —
Taillifer qui mult bien chantout
Sor un cheval qi tost alout
Devant le due alout chantant
De Karlemaigne e de Reliant
E d'Oliver e des vassalls
Qi morurent en Roncevalz. — B. R. 4. c. 11.
" Malmsbury's words are, tunc cantilena Rollandi inchoata, that the
Warlike example of this man might excite them to the conflict, p. 101.
" The passage in Turpin is, ' De hoc canetur in cantilena usque bo"
diernam diem,' c, 11. Tbe question now is, of whom is this spoken?
In the two printed copies, and in one MS, in tbe British Museum, these
words are applied to Oel, a Breton chief; but Mr. Douce remarks, that
HISTORYOF CHARLE-
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES, 247
his work alludes to other fabulous narrations about chap,
Charlemagne, as if then well known, tho he would ;_
not describe them,'® An ancient authority has been turpin's
already quoted, to prove that the minstrels had made
earlier romances on some ofthe warriors of the age f^f^f^,
and court of Charlemagne."
The idea of the twelve peers of France certainly
did not originate from Turpin's book ; *" and one
string of fiction, the conquest of England by Char-
in the best MSS. of Turpin, the above expressions refer to Oger, king of
Denmark, of whom a long romance, written originally in rhyme, still
exists. Warton, V.l. p. xxi. new ed. The old parchment MS, Harl,
108, and the paper MS, Titus, A 19. add them to Naaman, the dux Ba-
joariae. Two others omit the words on the song. But the parchment
MSS. Bib. Reg. 13. D 1, and Nero, All. and the paper MS. (which
two last are the most complete MSS. of Turpin, and the document con
nected with him, that I have seen,) connect the words with Ogier : so
does the MS. mentioned by Le Beuf, v. 10. p. 249. I observe that the
MSS. which ascribe the song to Ogier, have the passage more complete
and full than the others, which either omit it or give it to Oel or Hoel, and
which make no mention of Ogier in it. Hence I think the evidence at
present preponderates in favor of Ogier being the person alluded to as
the subject of these songs. If so, he may be derived from Ingwar, also
called Igwar, the celebrated son of Ragnar Lodbrog.
'* Turpin, c. 20. Warton has pointed our attention to this. The
passage mentions, tbat how Charlemagne killed Braimant, a great and
superb king ofthe Saracens; acquired many lands and cities; built
abbeys and churches all over the world ; and went to the Holy Sepulchre,
' scribere nequo,' because the hand and pen would fail sooner than the
history, p. 80, We know that there was an earlier account of this visit
to the Holy Land, See Le Beuf, v, 10, p. 238,
" See before, p. 204, note.'''
^ The peers of France are said to be mentioned by Flodoard in his
History, who lived in 960, I bave not found the passage in him ; but I
observe that the nobility of France were anciently so called, not as peers
to their ting, but as peers or equals as to each other, 3 Du Cange
Gloss. 137. Two of our chroniclers mention the twelve peers of France
as the number by which each peer was to be judged. M. Paris, an 1226;
and Knyghton, says, ' ad modura Franciae 12 pares tum ordinavisse
Scotos.' So Raimond, count of Toulouse, was ordered to undergo the
' judicum duodecim parium Gallise.' M. Paris. We find from the ' Re-
gesto Parliameiiti,' that, ' au temps ancient n'avoit que 12 pairs en
France.' These are mentioned all of the highest rank ; six lay and six
clerical. Du Cange, p. 143, Hence it is clear that the twelve peers of
France were known in that country as a part of its constitutional no
bility before Turpin Jeffry, and most probably as eariy, at least, as
Charlemagne, u 4
240 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK lemagne,"' tho generally noticed by him, is not pre-
^/; sented in his work in that circumstantial detail which
LiTEHARY others have given, and which therefore they must
lngTand.' l^av^ derived from other sources,"" Rhymed romances
' — ^' — ' on Charlemagne certainly exist, the time of whose
first appearance is not known."^
Some of the prose compositions on this subject
brand the rhymed ones as falsehoods,"* and boldly,
altho themselves as chimerical, claim to be authentic
history."^ " Turpin merely say, ' diversa regiia Angliam Galliam,' and many
others, ' invincibili brachio suo potentia; suae adquesivit.' c. 2.
'^ I allude here particularly to the German Chronicon of Mutius, who
lived soon after 1500. In this work, which Pistorius thought it worth
while to print, little is taken from the exploits in Turpin; but two folio
pages and a half are devoted to the exploits of Adolphus, the lieutenant
of Charlemagne, sent by him to make war on the rebellious Saxons,
Angles, and Britons, in England. I remark that the incidents resemble
those of Julius Caesar's first invasion. The battle in the sea; the landing;
the flight, and further conflicts; the storm, and the submission of the
island : all which are applied, with some new colouring, to Adolphus.
It would be interesting to find out from what ballads or pseudo-Turpin
such gratuitous fictions were derived ; and so gravely stated, as to be
narrated by Mutius as sober history, L. 8. p. 64.
=3 Two of these are in the British Museum, MS. Bib. Reg. I5. E 6.
One beginning. Or entendez seigneurs que DieU vous benie
Le glorieulx de ciel le filz saincte Marie,
The other opening with,
Plaise vous ecouter bonne chancon vaillant
De Charlemaine le riche roy puissant.
'^ The Harl. MS. ofthe French prose translation of Turpin's History,
N° 273, bas this passage : ' Pour ceo que estoire rimee semble mensunge,
est ceste mis en prose, selon le latin que Turpin memes fist.' The old
romance, quoted by Warton, has also, ' Nuz contes rymez n'en estvrais.
Tot mensonge ce qu'il dient.' l Hist. p. 139.
=» In the British Museum. Bib. Reg. 13. A 18. is a MS. ofthe four
teenth century, containing the history of Turpin, in Latin rhyme. The
Verses are hexameters, which rhyme usually in couplets, but several only
in the middle. It corresponds with the prose Latin of Turpin, and has
the passage on the arts. It begins,
Versibus exametris, insignia gesta virorum
Metrificare libet, celeberrima corpora quorum;
and ends,
Hoc opus exegi, Suramo sit gloria regi
Auxilio cujus, operis sum redditor bujus —
Et quia gesta referl Karoli . . . iste libellus
Imponatur ei proprium nomen Karolellus.
HISTORYOF CUAHLE-
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 249
' The pretension is absurd, but it leads us to infer CHAP,
that the poems must be older than the prose. ^^'
These facts preclude us from making Turpin the turpin's
original of all the romances on Charlemagne, and
separate from his book the song that was chanted magne
at the battle of Hastings. My doubt, if this was taken
from any ballad of Charlemagne's hero, arose from
a conception, that it was not likely that William
would order a ballad on a knight who had perished
in Spain, to be sung as an incentive to the courage
of his army. It was more probable that it was a po
pular song on some Norman successful hero ; and as
the great leader of the Normans who invaded France,
as he was invading England, and who established his
countrymen in Normandy, was Hrolfr, or Rollo, and
as I found that he was called in one old chronicler
Rolandus,"" it seemed to me to look more like truth
to infer that the war-song related to him, a real
and victorious conqueror, and not to a fictitious per
sonage, not nationally interesting to the Normans;
uho, instead of gaining a triumph, fell disastrously in
his adventure, and would therefore rather be an omen
of discouragement to all William's soldiery. It con
curs with this idea that the historian declares, that
the success of his ancestor Rollo was one of the
topics of the speech with which he addressed the
army before that decisive battle."'^ For these reasons
^ It was in the Chronicon of T. Wikes that I saw this passage, ' Wil-
lielmus Lung-espeye filii Rolandi qui fuit primus dux Norraannorum.'
Gale Script. Angl. v. 2. p. 22,
" See this in Hen. Hunt. p. 368, and in 2 Anglo Sax. 407. 4th ed. It
¦may be a question, if the Roland of romance did not originate from this
Rollo? That the scalds or poets who sung on the Northmen warriors,
made verses on Rollo, we may infer from their having done so on his chief
contemporaries; .and that his life was romantic enough to be the subject
of romantic balla<ls, is evident from what we have before recorded of him,
vol. 1 . p. 6 1-5. This Rollo married the daughter of Charies, then king of
25a HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK it may be believed that the minstrels war-song at tlie
_^. battle of Hastings, was not derived from the history
of Turpin.
The most authentic date that any ancient authority
has annexed to this fabulous work, is that of the
Magnum Chronicon Belgicum, which asserts, that
in 1122 it was declared to be authentic by Pope
Calixtus II."*
This circumstance seems to give it a little priority
to Jeffry's British History, which was certainly given
to the world before 1 1.39,"' and was probably pub
lished before the year 1128.^° I have formerly
doubted, if Turpin's work was known anterior to
this date ; but some late researches have satisfied my
mind, that Turpin's work was in existence before the
death of Calixtus in 1124, and that this pontiflf not
France, ib. 65. Of the romance Roland, Turpin says, that his father
was dukeMilo de Angleriis, who had married the sister of Charlemagne,
We may here remark, that one of Arthur's knights was called Mael.
1 Angl. Sax. 277. 4th ed. Turpin says, there was also another Roland,
' de quo nobis nunc silendum est.' The romancers so confused history
in their tales, that it is diSicult to trace the origin of their fancies.
°° This important passage is, ' Idem Calixtus Papa fecit libellura de
miraculis S' Jacobi et statuit historiam sancti Caroli descriptam a beato
Turpino Remensi archiepiscopo esse autbenticam. Haec ex Chronicis.'
p. 150. Rer. Germ. Vet. Pist.
The same fact is mentioned by Vincen. Belov. Spec. Hist. 1. 26. c. 32 ;
and by Werner, Rolvinck Fascicul. Temp. p. 75; and in the Harleian
MS, N° 108; and in the Cambridge MS. Coll. Benedict.
"^ In this year, Henry of Huntingdon says he saw it in the Abbey of
Bee. See his letter to Warinus, Hari. MS. N" 1018.
^ I ground this date upon the following reasoning. Alured of Beverley
ends his history in the 29th year of Henry I. and in his proemium says, he
carries it down to the 28th year; and that he wrote it in the days ofhis
silence, when by a decree of the council of London he ceased from his
sacerdotal functions invitus, and among many excommunicated. This
exactly suits the 29th year of Henry I. or 1 129, when the council held at
London suspended all married archdeacons and priests. He says, that
his great object in writing his history, was to give an account ofthe His
toria Britonum, then so exceedingly popular ; that he had searched care
fully for this history, which contained things that no other historian had
mentioned; that he had found it, and given the substance of it. This is
a neat abridgment of Jeffry's History. So that, on this reasoning, Jeffry's
work must have appeared at least in 1 128.
nrsTORYop CHARLEMAGNE,
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 251
only sanctioned, but also published it; that he either chap.
wrote it, or caused it to be written, and that his ^^"
authority gave it the celebrity which produced its turpin's
rapid circulation and credit, and the numerous ro
mances that either sprung from it, or were eagerly
attached to it." The Pope's motives appear to have
been the recommendation of the shrine and church of
St. James, in Gallicia; the direction of the military
mind of Europe to attack the mussulmen in Spain ;
and the excitement of the German emperors to imi
tate Charlemagne in his alleged warfare against the
Mabomedan powers, and in his regard for the Ro
man pontiff", whom he had protected against, their
assailing enemies, the Lombards.
One of Turpin's heroes, tho not peculiarly dis
tinguished by him, Oger, the king of Denmark, was
anciently made the subject of a distinct romance.^''
But this shews itself to have been posterior to JeflTry's
British History, and the Breton and Welsh tales
about Arthur, by exhibiting him in the fairy land
with Arthur and his friend Morgana. The British
prince determined to throw him out of it. The
"baron Oger" persisted in entering, but " the good
'' The reasonings and MSS, on which I have formed and grounded
this opinion, will be stated in the Appendix to this Chapter. Since it
occurred to me from these circumstances, I find that a similar idea has
been mentioned by Oudin, in his Comment. Scrip. 2. p. 69 ; but only to
be rejected by others. — I cannot get Oudin's work, to know from himself
the foundation of his belief; but I learn from the Bolandist editor of the
Acta Sanctorum, that it was built on the words of the Cambridge MS.
which will be noticed in the Appendix. But here let me protest against
the outrageous language of this too zealous catholic against Oudin, for
daring to surmise such a thing of a sainted pope. He calls him an heretic,
and an ' infelixapostata,' Acta Sane. July. V. 2. p. 44. Such an appel
lation on such a subject dishonors him who applies it, and not the person
to whom it is applied.
=" A copy is in the MSS. of the British Museum, Bib. Reg. 15, E 6.
252 HISTORY OF ENGLAND?
king Arthur" as resolutely forbade him.*
appear to be some reasons for thinking this Og?
be one ofthe warriors celebrated in the Scandinavian
traditions and tales,''* his name and adventures may
have come into Normandy with Rollo and his scalds ;
and some of the ballads and romances that were
attached to Charlemagne and his peers, may have
originated from this source.^*
Among the other romances of this class, two of
the most celebrated among the Anglo-Normans, and
abroad, were the Gestes de Garin, and the Quatre
fils d'Aymoii. Both of these display much talent
in this species of composition, and are not even yet
without interest to those who love to trace the spirit,
catch the thoughts, and follow the feelings of their
^ Two passages express, these ideas in a rhythm, which, altho so an
cient, is nearly as good as Voltaire's Henriade : —
Or est le Ber Oger par dedens faerie
Avec le roy Artus et Morgue son amie,
Gloriant, Orient, Saturnus, et Jouv^.
Voulloit le roy Artus getter hors de faerie
Et ye voulloit entrer a toute sa mesquerie
Mais le bon roy Artus le deffent et destrie. MS. 1526.
On this subject we may recollect that an old work was printed in 1548,
intituled,' Visions d'Ogeirle Danoi au royaume de Faerie en vers Fran
cois.' 1 Wart. 140.
5* See Warton, 1 Dissert. Ix. and his last editor's note, p, xxi. ; and
Bartholin, Aiitiq. Dan. p. 578-9.
^' That in the Faron monastery an ancient sword was kept and shewn
as the weapon of one Otger, a Dane, Mabillon confesses, as quoted by
Bartholin, p. 579 : on its blade were the gilt effigies of a lion and an eagle.
Its inscription had fourteen gilt and engraved characters, but was too
¦much obliterated to be read with certainty. But Mabillon, erroneously
thinking that Otger was known only from Turpin's history, denies its
appHcation to the Danish hero, and assigns it to ' Austrasiis.' Ib.
¦ If there were songs about Ogier before Turpin, as there are before our
eyes old romances concerning him, this weapon may have been ascribed
"to this personage by popular tradition ; tho whether he be the same with
Ingwar, as I have hinted, or Holger, or any other Danish champion,
X.will not pretend to decide.
HISTORYOFCHARLE MAGNE.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 253
ancestors. It favors our idea of the intellectuaV con-: CHAP.
nexion between the bardic mind of Wales and Breton, _^
and these heroic romances, that both of these extolled turpin's
warriors, Garin and Aymon, were Norman chieftains,
who fought and conquered in the marches ofWales.^"
But to enlarge upon the romances of the peers of
Charlemagne, would occasion too wide a digression
from the direct course of the present History, Emu
lating spirits emerged in abundance during the thir
teenth century to compose them,^'' and were as fertile
in fancy and feeling, and far more picturesque, and
often more natural, than the founders of the new
school tbat superseded them, Scudery and Lacalpre-
made, exhibited themselves to be in these endless
volumes of sentimental lore and falsified history,
which delighted the world four hundred years after
wards. New fashions of fiction, and new genius to
narrate them, have since arisen, blazed and disap
peared. But it is pleasing to observe, that some ofthe
best, and even the oldest, aim to uphold the morals.
^ Guarinus was made the vice-comes of Shropshire, in the time of the
Conqueror. 2 Hoare Giral. 177; ^"^ on the actions of himself and his
family, see ib. 195. and Lei. Coll. 1. p. 231. Fitzhamon was the Nor
man chief and kinsman of William I. who conquered Glamorgan, and
parcelled out various lordships and manors to each of the twelve knights
who had accompanied him, reserving to himself the castle of Cardiff.
Hoare, ib, I. p. 126. Leiand calls him, Haymo, erle of Glocester. Itin.
V. 4. p. 54. He was earl of Astremeville in Normandy, and was buried
1102, in the abbey of Tewkesbury, which he had founded, Hoare, ib. 131,
His eldest daughter married the earl of Gloucester, who fought against
Stephen, and so greatly patronized Anglo-Noman literature,
^ Adans, or Adenez, the poet ofthe duke of Brabant, who died in
1260, went into France, and wrote his Cleomades and Enfances, Ogief
le Danois, Aymeri de Narbonne, and Berthe et Repin, which are still in
MS. in the Royal Library at Paris. .Hacon de Villeneuve, «fter 1200,
was the author of Regnauld de Montauban, and Garnier de Nanteuil. To
him are ascribed the Quatre fils d'Aimou, Maugis d'Aigremont, and
Beuves. Roquef. 139,140. But Warton's Dissertation, and his His
tory of Poetry, and his last editor's notes, deserve our perusal and thank*
on these subjects,
254
HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
VI.
LITERARY
HISTORYOFENGLAND.
Romanceson Alex
ander,
BOOK and to improve the manners and character of their
contemporaries. How early this noble spirit actuated the ancient
romance writers, we may infer from this admirable
passage in the beginning ofthe ancient French Turpin,
which the author gives as his reason for composing
his work ; " Good examples teach how men should
behave towards God, and how they should act ho
norably in this age; for to live without honor
IS TO DIE."^^
The story of Alexander about the same time began
to interest the poetical and lettered clergy, who were
the prolific authors of these ancient romances. Some
wrote on it impressively in Latin,'* and others in
Romanz or ancient French.*" But as this has no
particular connexion with Anglo-Norman poetry, it
is unnecessary to pursue this branch of the inquiry.*'
'' Les bons ensamples enseignent cument home se deit aver ou Dieu ;
et se cuntenir oneurablement en siecle. Car vivre sans honeur, est morir,
Hari. MS. N" 273.
=' Gualter de Castellione wrote the Alexandreis, a poem in ten books,
¦each beginning with a letter of the name of Guillermus, to whom he ad
dressed it, and who was archbishop of Rheims between 1176 and 1201.
It was in such request in 1280, that the reading of the classical poets
was neglected for it. Fabricius Bib. Med. Lat. 7. p. 328; and see War-
ton's Hist. V. 1. p. 132.
'"' See these mentioned by Fauchet des Poet. Franc, — One of the au
thors, Lambert li Cors, calls himself un clers de Chasteaudun, p. 83; he,
and Alexandre de Paris, are stated to have produced the roman on Alex
ander in 1184. Roquef. p. 158. On this subject Mr. Weber's Metrical
Romances may be consulted. His first volume contains the English
romance of Kyng Alisaunder. His introduction and notes deserve peru
sal; and his undertaking, applause and countenance. The prose ro
mance of Alexander is one of the ancient romances, with beautiful ancient
drawings, coloured gilt in the MSS. Bib. Reg. 15. E 6.
¦" Of the roman de Florimon, one of those connected with Alexander,
and written by Aymon de Chatillon, the MS. in the Harieian Library,
N° 3983, will, when inspected by any one, be seen to be the same MS.
which M. Galland inspected at Paris, in the library of M. Foucault, and
which he describes as un pen effac^, 3 Mem, Ac. Ins. p. 479. He men
tions the date of the composition as 1 180 in another copy, I think this
the true date. The Harieian MS. has 1 1 24 in figures : this was probably
the transcriber's mistaking quatre vingt for 24, when he transferred it
into figures.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 255
Nor have we any necessity of noticing in detail the CHAP.
other Trouveurs, or composers of romans, who flou- ^^-
rished in the end ofthe twelfth century."" It is suffi
cient to remark, that the earliest romans we have,
were written between the end of the reign of our
Henry I, and the accession of our John; and that
some of them were either composed by Anglo-
Normans, or by authors who visited the court of the
Anglo-Norman sovereigns. The taste for fictitious
narrations, which began in the twelfth century, con
tinued thro the next, and was cherished by Henry II.
and his short-reigning son, who was called Henry III.
and afterw ards by his grandson, the historical Henry III.
But they soon became distinguished from real his
tory,*' and were pursued as a distinct species of
composition. " As Chretien de Troyes, Raoul de Beauvais, &c. On this subject,
Mr, Warton's History, v. 1. p. 114-150, last ed. should be read, and his
valuable researches there and elsewhere fairly appreciated. The roman
of Guy of Warwick is in French prose, in the Bib. Reg. 15. E 6. and in
rhymed French verse, 8. F 9. Hearne has printed the account of Guy of
Warwick, as told by Girard Cornubieusis, at the end of bis Chronicon of
Dunstaple. The story is also in Knyghton, 2324; and see Warton's
Hist. 1. p. 146.
" Thus Chardre declares, that in tbe life ofhis Saint he will not trover
in fables, and alludes to some romans as such —
Ne voil pas en fables trover —
Ne ja sachez ne parlerum
Ne de Tristram ne de Galerum
Ne de Renard ne de Hersente
Ne voil pas mettre mentente. — MS. Calig. A 9.
So Denis Piramus says of the Parthenope —
Si dist il bien de cele matiere
Cum de fable e de menceonge
La matire resemble suonge.
On the same ground he remarks of Marie's Lays —
Ke ne sunt pas de tut verais, — MS, Doin. All.
250 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK VI.
LITERARY
HISTORYOF ENGLAND.
APPENDIX.
On the Author of Turpin's History of Charlemagne.
THE various opinions that have been entertained on this point
of antiquarian and bibliographical research have been already
noticed ; but it has always remained so much in doubt, that
Schmink, in his valuable edition of Eginhart, after all his pains to
discover who was the fabulous competitor of this true historian of
Charlemagne, could only express his own conviction, that it was
written when the crusades had been instituted, and then leave the
subject for others to draw it out of what he calls, its impenetrable
obscurity, p. 8.
The conclusion to whicli my oivn inquiries have led me, I have
found mentioned but by one preceding author, Oudin, whose opi
nion has been noticed only to be discredited.
I was not aware that he had entertained it, when the combina
tion of the evidence" thai I found, impelled my own mind to it.
But I think it is the just one ; and to induce others to consider if it
be not so, I will state the train of thought as it has occurred, which
has inclined me to believe that this work owes its origin to pope
Calixtus II. and was published and authenticated by him, and
was written by him, or under his directions, to promote views that
he believed to be important and beneficial to society, tho he chose
to follow the bad taste of the age in advancing them by a sup
posititious work.
Searching to ascertain whether the Turpin or Jeffry's British
History was the most ancient, I saw that Mons. Roquefort had, like
Ginguene, adopted Warton's assertion, that pope Calixtus had,
in 1122, declared the book to be genuine ; and as I was at first
inclined to doubt if Turpin's book was written so early, I was de
sirous to look into the authorities on which Warton had grounded
his fact.
He quoted for it the Magnum Chronicon Belgicum, with a
direction to compare Long's Bibliotheque and Lambecius. I did
so, and found no mention of the circumstance in the two latter ;
but that the Belgic Chronicle thus states it, as I have cited in the
preceding note (28', — ' Idem Calixtus Papa fecit libellum de mi
raculis S. Jacobi et statuit historiam Sancti Caroli descriptam a
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 257
bpato Turpino Remensi archiepiscopo esse authenticam. Haec ex CHA P.
Chronicis.' Rer. Germ. Pist. p. 150. VI.
This old chronicle thus asserts the fact, and refers to other pre- ;
TURPIN S
ceding chronicles upon it : these earlier chronicles I have not been „istoryop
able to trace. I find the Speculum Historiale of Vincentius Bel- charll-
lovacensis referred to by others, as also ascribing it to Calixtus. magn e.
He wrote about 1248. I have examined the ponderous folio MS.
of his first seventeen books, but these do not mention it, and the
Briiish Museum does not contain his latter ones, in which must be
what he has said about Pope Calixtus and Turpin.
The earliest chronicle after the Belgic one that alludes to this
work is that of Werner Rolvinck. This author, in his Fasciculus
Temporum, written about 1490, has this passage on Calixtus ;
' Fecit libellum de miraculis Sancti Jacobi. Statuit etiam his
toriam Caroli descriptam a beato Turpino.' p. 75.
Schmink says that Siffredus Misnensis and Gobelinus Persona,
have followed the Magnum Chronicon. p. 81.
These authorities were sufficient to indispose me from hastily
discrediting the asserted fact, that Calixtus had sanctioned the
work ; but made me curious to discover why he should meddle
with it.
I read over Turpin's History of Charlemagne again. It was
clearly no part of his general and authentic history, nor of any
other known tradition ; but it was an account of his pretended ex
ploits in Spain, added to all that before had been truly narrated
or popularly circulated about him. Its greatest object appeared
manifestly to be, to exalt the fame of St. James of Spain, and to
recommend devotions to him there, not generally as an apostle,
but specially to his asserted relics and Church at Compostella in
Gallicia. I remembered how fashionable a thing it became in
England to make pilgrimages to him there during the middle ages,
as I have already noticed (vol. 4. p. 10.) and I became more inte
rested in the inquiry.
Turpin's book begins with the appearance of St. James in a
dream to Charlemagne, to inform him that the saint's body lay
buried in Gallicia, in the power of the Saracens, and to urge him
to deliver that province from their sway. The emperor obeys :
and in the next chapter St. James, by miraculous aid, gives him
Pampeluna and Gallicia. He builds churches to the saint, from
gratitude and devotion ; and a long chapter is employed in describ
ing his visit to the city of Saint James in Spain. It is obvious
that the subjection of the mussulmen in Spain, and the recom-
VOL, IV. S
LITERARY
HISTORYOF
258 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK mendation of Saint James's church, city, and relics there, and the
VI. celebrity given to Charlemagne for having exerted himself on these
objects, are the main topics and the manifest drift of the work,
and were the motives that induced the author to compose it.
ENGLAND. But how was Pope Calixtus connected with these points more
' ¦^' ' than any other pope, or than any other individual ? Le Beuf's idea
at first seemed more natural, that a Spanish canon, to exalt his own
order and country, was the author ; and yet Calixtus, who reigned
in St. Peter's chair scarcely six years, from iiig to 1124, was
declared to have pronounced this book to be authentic.
Both the Belgic chronicle and Rolvinck mentioned that this
pope had composed a book on the miracles of St. James. Was this
so ? Here was the first point of inquiry, and my researches into it
removed all doubt of this fact. Trithemius, in his Script, p. 270,"
mentions that he wrote such a book ; and again, in his Chron.
p. ill. adding that he composed it ' when he was yet a scholar,
as he confesses in it.' The same work is also ascribed to him by
Paulus Langf. Mon. p. 785, referring to Vincentius. But the most
satisfactory evidence of this to my mind, was the language of car
dinal Baronius, the most orthodox historian and zealous- supporter
of the papal see. He says, ' Fuit plane studiosissimus S" Jacobi
Compostellani et de ejus miraculis volumen confecit,' froin which
he adds, ' Vincentius inserted some things in his Speculum His
toriale.' V. 12. p, 145,
That this pope peculiarly attached himself, not to St. James
generally as an apostle, but to St. James as revered in Gallicia in
Spain, and sought peculiarly to recommend and advance his shrine,
relics and church, at Compostella, other testimonies concurred to
prove. He made the bishop of St. James a metropolitan, or arch
bishop. He published an order, that Englishmen might go on a pil
grimage to his church in Gallicia, and have even all the benefits
from it that they would derive from performing one to Rome, pro
vided they went twice to St. James for one journey to St. Peter's.
Baron, v. 13. p. 144, 5. He Avrote also four ' Sermones' on St.
James, which the able Jesuit and historian, Mariana, found in an
old MS. and which the ecclesiastical editors of the valuable work,
' Maxima Bibliotheca Patrum,' have printed in its 20th volume,
p. 1278.
These facts led me to the conjecture, that this pope himself
composed, or was concerned in this work of Turpin's, and in
fluenced me to pursue the inquiry with more diligence and inte
rest. I became therefore desirous to know more about him, to see
TUUPIN S
HISTORYOF
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES, 209
if the supposition was at all probable, from his personal character CHAP,
or conduct, VI,
Who was Pope Calixtus II, ? — By birth, a Burgundian ; Chron,
Constat, p, 637, — son of a count of Burgundy ; Rolv. 75; Labbe
Cone. 10, p. 825 — of royal blood aud ancestry; God. Vit. p. 506; cuarle-
Ch. Cassin. Labbe, ib. — and a kinsman ofthe emperor Henry V., '•'agne
W. TjTe — having been a monk ofthe monastery ' Fulleri,' Ciaccon.
p. 474, he had been the legate of the pope in Spain, and had com
posed his four sermones ' in laudem S. Jacobi apostoli hahiti in
ecclesia Compostellana,' while he was the papal legate there.
Aguerre Notit. Concil. p. 282, These circumstances connected
him closely with the main subject and object of Turpin's book.
But when I also observed that at the time when he was chosen
pope he was the archbishop of Vienne in France — Rob. de Monte,
p. 617 — new light seemed to dart upon the subject.
The letter of Turpin's, which begins the work, is addressed to
a pretended dean of Vienne, and mentions that it was at Vienne
that his friend had asked him to compose it. It was impossible
to observe this without immediately recollecting the disregarded
assertion of Guy AUard, that this book had been composed at
Vienne, and was ofthe year 1092, and that a monk of St. Andrew
there was its real author. This date suits the time of Calixtus.
He ruled, as pope, from 1109 to 1124, and he had been arch
bishop of Vienne, and legate in Spain, before 1109. This chro
nology approaches very near to that assigned by AUard to the
book, especially if this, like his work on the miracles, was written
when he was young ; and it is so peculiar that Allard should have
placed the time of its composition in this period, and its locality at
this place, and have made the author one of its monks, that we
cannot but infer that these things were not like Grypheander's,
those of surmise or reasoning, but must have been based on some
specific evidence that occasioned Allard to assert them. What
this particular evidence was, as he has not recorded, we cannot
now know ; but it remarkably harmonizes with the conclusion
which these observations are intended to justify.
The authentic history of this pope, instead of discountenancing
our idea of tracing this work to him, is very favorable to it. He
shewed himself to be a martial character. He was opposed by
a competitor, Burdinus, who, according to the policy of all ca
tholic historians, having disputed the chair with the successful, and
finally acknowleged and canonical pontiff, is therefore decried by
them as a wicked and impious wretch ; but whom Baluz thought
s 2
literary
historyof
260 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK to be sufficiently estimable to deserve a Life and panegyric, which
VI. he has inserted in his Miscellanies, vol. 3. But as soon as pos
sible after he had been elected at Vienne, Calixtus set off for
Rome, and having got together an army of Normans, marched
ENGLAND, boldly with them after his rival in Italy ; attacked, took him pri
soner at Sutrium, by force, and putting him into a bear's skin, and
placing him on a camel, with his face to its tail, which he made
him hold by his hand, sent him ignominiously to the Cassino con
vent near Salernum — W. Tyre. Pandulph. Labbe, p. 826, where
he was confined in a cave for the rest of his life. God. Vit. 506.
The most famous of the other exertions of Calixtus, was his
maintenance of the papal quarrel raised by Gregory VII. with the
German emperors, on the investiture of the bishops. He insisted
that this should rest with the popes, which, if fully obtained as
struggled for, would have substantially given to them the appoint
ment of all the bishops in Europe. Although he was related to
Henry V. and had been raised to the tiara chiefl^y by his influence,
yet, at the request of two German metropolitans, he excommuni
cated his imperial kinsman and patron. Henry V. was the husband
of our empress Maud, the celebrated daughter of our Henry I.
the mother of Henry II. and the lady who led the civil war in
England so vigorously, for her son, against Stephen.
But the alarming conspiracy that was formed against Henry V.
amid the very celebration of his nuptials, by his prelates and no
bles, compelled him to an accommodation with Calixtus. Other
powers interfered on his behalf, and the contest with Calixtus was
at last settled by an arrangement, that the emperors should invest
bishops with their temporal honors and possessions, and the popes
with their spiritual rights, powers and privileges. On this con
cession, the pope absolved Henry from his excommunication.
God. Vit. 506. Thus, says Labbe, a most grateftil peace was re
stored, forty-nine years after the great discord had begun between
Gregory VII. and Henry IV. p. 827. The Belgic Chronicle says,
that ' from this the church under Calixtus grew to a great moun
tain.' p. 150.
But Calixtus was as zealous for crusades against the mussulmen,
as he was for the exaltation of the papal power, and for the re
commendation of the shrine of Compostella. In 1 1 23, he headed
the council of Lateran, in which crusaders were exhorted to ' go
to Jerusalem to defend the Christian faith, and fight the tyranny
of the infidels.' That they were also encouraged and directed to
make expeditions against them in Spain, is evident from the
turpin's
history'of
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 261
clause in the acts of this council, which mentions ' those who are CHAP.
known to have placed the crosses on their garments for the VI.
Jerusalem or for the Spaiiish journey.' Labbe quotes, with appro
bation, the remark of Baluz, that the connexion of Palestine with
Spain, shews that the journey to the latter was not a mere pil- charle-
grimage But on this point the evidence is direct and positive; magne.
for Baluz also mentions, that in the archives of the church of '
Barcelona was an epistle of Calixtus II. ' ad universos fideles,' in
which he grants the same remission of sins to those who should
fight in Spain against the Saracens, as Urban had granted to the
Palestine crusaders. Labbe, p. 837.
Thus the great motives and objects which the contents of the
book indicate the author to have had in its composition, meet in
Calixtus — the peculiar recommendation of St. James in Spain, and
of a crusading warfare against the Mohamedans there. It was also
his interest and policy to induce the emperors of Germany, who
were becoming so formidable to the popedom by their possessions
and growing power in Italy, to divert, employ and exhaust their
strength in such expeditions ; and this remark opens a view to the
reason of connecting St. James with Charlemagne, and of making
the first pope-crowned emperor of Germany, the hero ofthe tale.
That an idea of this Henry V. imitating Charlemagne on this
very point, was at that very time in the mind of some of the
clergy of Europe, is proved by a curious passage in our William
of Malmsbury. Speaking of this very agreement between Ca
lixtus II. and Henry V. he says, ' All Christendom rejoiced that
the emperor, who in the approximating glory ofhis courage might
press fiercely on the footsteps of Charlemagne, would also not
degenerate from his devotion towards God.' Hist. L. 5. p. 1 70.
I cannot account satifactorily to myself for our old historian con
necting Henry V. more than his own sovereign, or any body else,
with Charlemagne, unless something had occurred at that time to
lead to this association, and to make it one ofthe clerical notions
of the day. That the pope should have diffused it, and should
have thus published or sanctioned such a book as Turpin's, would
be in perfect concord with such an intimation ; and that he should
have sent out this work to induce the German emperors to do what
Charlemagne is there stated to have done, and what Malmsbury
means by not degenerating from Charlemagne in his devotion
towards God, is not only probable from all the preceding circum
stances, but is also the result which this book actually produced.
It did not indeed make Henry V. imitate Charlemagne in an
S3
literary HISTOnvoP
262 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK attack on the infidels ; for his sudden, mysterious, and to this mo-
VI, ment unaccounted-for disappearance from his throne and world,*
before even Calixtus died, and almost immediately after his accom
modation with the pope, prevented that. But in the same century,
ENGLAND, the first of his successors that had the requisite capacity and
power, led a crusade into Palestine, and preceded it by the sin
gular circumstance, which could have arisen only from the effect
of Turpin's book, of joining a subsequent pope to make Charle
magne a saint.
The rescript ofthe emperor Frederic I. on this curious fact, is
printed by Lambecius from the MSS. of the Vienna library. In
this, which is dated in 1165, he says, that ' animated by the glo
rious (ieeds and merits of the most holy emperor Charles, and at
the sedulous petition of Henry king of England (Henry II.) and
with the assent and authority of the pope Paschal,' he declares
Charlemagne to be an elect and most holy confessor, and as such
to be venerated on earth. Lamb. Bib. Ces. v. 2. p. 341.
The antiphonae and hymns to be addressed to him are also
pi-inted here. And thus this emperor Fnjderic, who thus sainted
Charlemagne, by imitating him in an expedition against the Sara-
cens,fulfilled the dearest wish ofthe papacy, that the active German
emperors should so divert their dreaded and dangerous power.
The natural effect of all the above circumstances is, to support
the credit ofthe Belgic Chronicle in its assertion that Calixtus did
authenticate Turpin's book ; and they all combine to increase the
probability that this pope was connected with its appearance; but
I had hitherto obtained no direct evidence on the subject, and as
the Vienna MS. contained that passage on the description of the
arts alleged to be painted by Charlemagne on his palace, which
was not in the two printed copies, I resolved to inspect the MSS.
of Turpin's book in the British Museum, which, tho Warton has
noticed, no one seemed to have examined with the same object
in view which I was pursuing, and to observe whether they gave
any evidence for or against the conclusion to which my own mind
was now so strongly impelled.
I found eight MSS. of Turpin's book in this valuable museum.
They are, Harl. N" 108; Claud. B 7 ; Vesp. A 13; Titus, A 19;
Nero, All; Big. Reg. 13. D 1 ; Harl. N° 2500; lb. N° 6358 ;
and an old French translation of it, Ib. N" 273. and its substance
put into Latin rhyme. Bib. Reg. 13. A 18.
*• See the Ist vol, of this History, p. 191.
turpin s
HISTORYOF
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES, 263
All these contain that passage which describes the seven arts, CHAP.
which the two printed copies have omitted, not being in the MS, VI.
they were taken from, but which Lambecius found in the Vienna
MS. as Vossius did in another at Rotterdam. (Hist. Lat. v. 2.
p. 32.) On this passage Le Beuf justly remarks, that in its account cuarle-
of music it mentions a chant from four lines, and as lines were magne.
not invented till the nth century, it proves the book not to have "^^
been composed till after musical lines had come into use in the
11 til century.
The first MS. which I inspected was the parchment Harleian
MS. N° 108. In this there is a direct assertion that Pope Calixtus
had declared the work to be authentic. It begins, after the table
of contents, ' Incipit liber Turpini Archiepi Remensis, quomodo
Karolus rex Francorum adquesivit Hispaniam. Hunc librum dicit
Kalixtus Papa esse autenticum. p. 5. Thus this MS. gives an
ancient corroboration of the assertion of the great Belgic Chro
nicle. In the same MS. and immediately following Turpin's
Chronicle, and as a continuation, is, ' Explicit liber Turpini de
gestis Karoli. Kalixtus ppa de inventione corporis Turpini.' p. 27.
Thus ascribing to the same pope the description of finding the
body of the pretended Turpin, and by that, identifying the pope
with the construction of his fictitious character.
The substance of this account, thus given as the statement of
the pope, is the same which Lambecius found in his Vienna
MS. It is, that the Beatus Turpinus, soon after the death of
Charlemagne, died at Vienne, from the result of his wounds and
labors, and was buried near the city, beyond the Rhone. — That
his most holy body ' in our times certain of our clergy found in a
sarcophagus, clothed in episcopal garments, and yet entire in
its own skin and bones ; that from this church, then, in a de
vastated state, they brought the body into the city, and buried
it in another church, ' ubi nunc veneratur.' It adds, ' It is to be
believed that those who have suffered mart)rrdom in Spain for the
Christian faith, are deservedly crowned in heaven ;' and it declares,
' that the 16th July, the day on which he died, should be celebrated
with the solemn office for the dead, with vigils and masses.'
It was a striking coincidence to find that this statement made
Vienne the seat of the alleged discovery of Turpin's pretended
body ; and connected Calixtus, the archbishop of the place, with
its factitious story, and made the revival of Turpin's name so
synchronous with the time of the first appearance of this book.
Another MS. of Turpin's work, in the Harleian library, N" 6358,
s 4
264 HLSTORY OF ENGLAND,
exhibited itself to be of peculiar importance, from the time of its
composition. It is on parchment, and contains all Turpin, and
the passage on the arts ; and in its table of the chapters, intitles
the part on Turpin's body with the name of the same pope,
having left a blank for his initial letter, that it might be inserted
in an ornamented manner. That chapter is therefore thus denoted:
' . . alixtus Papa de inventione corporis beati Turpini.' It makes
16 kal . Junii the day of his solemnity ; and is followed in the same
hand, and as a part of the work of the same writer who had
transcribed the rest, by a genealogy from Moroveus, ending with
Ludovicus being the father of Philip ' qui nunc I'egnat.' Thus
fixing its own date as that of the reign of Philip Augustus, who
died 1223. It ends with a paragraph on the Norman dukes and
sovereigns, to John, and seems to have applied the same words
to him as to Philip ; but after the word ' qui,' is a blank, with an
erasure, followed by Amen, as if the words ' nunc regnat' had
been inserted and afterwards scratched out. Now John died in
I2ifi. My inference is, that it was written during his life, and
therefore before 1216 ; but that he died while the MS. remained
in the writer's hand, who therefore erased the nunc regnat. But
in either case it is a complete testimony that at least before 1223,
and probably before 1216, the account ofthe finding of Turpin's
body was asserted and believed to be the accountof Pope Calixtus.
Thus far all these circumstances and MSS. expressly connect
Calixtus with Turpin and his book and its subjects, and leave
little doubt that it made its appearance under his sanction, and
for purposes for which he was deeply interested ; but two other
MSS. which succeeded, gave direct and positive assurances to
this important fact.
One of these was an old paper MS. of the Cotton Library,
Titus, A ig. This, like the Vienna MS. and the preceding, sub
joins to Turpin the account of finding his body, which it also intitles
' Calixtus Papa de inventione corporis beati Turpini .'p. 39. Thus,
like the others, referring this statement to this Pope as its author.
But this MS. goes farther: — It adds next, a letter of Pope Inno
cent, who was the second successor of Calixtus in 1 130, in which
this pope declares that Calixtus frst published this book ' Hunc
codicem a Dno Kalixto primitus editum ; and he asserts its ve
racity, and places it among the authentic books, — ' quem verbis
veracissimum ; actione pulcherrimum ab herotheca (heretica) et
apocrifa pravitate alienum et inter ecclesiastices codices autenti
cum, auctoritas nostra vobis testificatur.'
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 265
This same MS. then adds the laudatory approbation of seven CHAP.
prelates to this book, and they avow that their motive for thus VI.
supporting it, was that to which I have ascribed its composition,
and which Calixtus was so studious to promote, the exaltation of
St. James in Spain. For this reason I will transcribe the words
ascribed to them in the MS. —
' Ego Albricus legatus Prosul Hostiensis ad decus S" Jacobi
cujus servus sum hunc codicem legalem et per omnia laudabilem
fere predico.
' Ego Amoricus Cancellarius hunc librum veracem fere ad
honorem S'' Jacobi manu mea scribenda affirmo.
' Ego Girardus de Sancta Cruce Cardinalis hunc codicem pre-
ciosum ad decus S" Jacobi penna mea scribendo corrobero.
' Ego Guido Patavus Cardinalis quod Dns Papa Innocentius
testatur affirmo.
' Ego S. S. Cardinalis nepos Dni Papae Innocentii hunc codicem
per omnia laudo.
' Ego Guido Lumbardus Card, librum istum bonum ad decus
S" Jacobi glorifico.
• Ego G. G. Ihenia Card, hunc codicem ad decus S'' Jacobi
laudo.' According to this part of the MS. the Pope Innocent, as well
as these prelates and cardinals, authenticated and praised Turpin's
work, and for the honor of St. James.
But in the next page follows that document which I presume
to be the authority on which the chroniclers have asserted that
Calixtus declared the book to be a genuine work. It begins, ' Ca
lixtus Episcopus servus servorum Dei dilectis — ^fratribus Episcopis
Ecclesiae, ceteris que ecclesiae personis omnibus Christianis,' &c.
After some introduction it proceeds — ' My most beloved sons,
I beg your affection to understand how great an authority it is to
go to Spain to attack the Saracens, and with how much reward
they will be remunerated who willingly proceed thither; for Char
lemagne, the king of France, most famous, far beyond other kings,
is reported to have directed, with innumerable labors, expedi
tions to Spain to attack its perfidious nations ; and the blessed
Turpin his associate, having collected a council, &c. went there —
afterwards returned, as he has related in ' Gestis ejus, scribente
Divina auctoritate corroborata.' — These last words seem to give
the book the merit even of inspiration.
The Pope, in this document, is then made to declare that all
who shall go to Spain or to Jerusalem will receive the reward of
266 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK martyrs. He adds, ' Never was there at any former time such a
VI. great necessity to go there as there is at this day.' — He then
commands all the prelates to announce this at their meetings, and
LITERARY jj j.jggjg jj^j- (.q ggase to oxhort the laity in their churches, and
HISTORYOF 1 . , , „ , , . 1 ,.
ENGLAND, promises heaven to those who shall carry about his letter from
place to place and church to church. The MS. then describes
four roads by which the route to St. James may be taken, with
great particularity.
The other MS. of this work, which I inspected, Nero, A n. is
older than the preceding. It contains Turpin's History and the
passage on the seven arts ; and also the chapter, which, like the
other MSS. it intitles, ' Kalixtus Papa de inventione corporis beati
Turpini ;' — and then adds the work of Kalixtus, mentioned by
Baronius and the others, on the miracles of St. James; thus head
ing it : ' Incipit argumentum Kalixti Papse de miraculis beati et
gloriosi Apostoli Jacobi,' &c. Some he says he heard of, some he
found written, and some he saw. He dates eight of them in
iioo, iioi, 1102, 1103, 1104, 1105, 1107, and in 1110; and in
the beginning he orders his MS. to be deemed authentic. — ' Pre-
cepimus ut codex iste inter viridicos et autenticos codices depu-
tetur in ecclesiis et refectoriis diebus festis ejusdem Apostoli
aliisque si placet diligentur legatur.' p. 38.
There follows in p. 59, another letter of Calixtus to the convent
of Clugny, in which he says he sends them the MS. of St. James
for their correction. A statement then is made, that he had loved
St. James from his childhood ; that he had travelled with the MS.
for fourteen years, and had encountered many dangers, by sea,
fire, imprisonment, and lost his other goods, but that this MS.
always escaped, and therefore he thought it was acceptable to
God. St. James also appeared to him in a vision, and bade him
finish it. He speaks of his book as consisting of two parts ; this
is manifestly inserted by the author of the MS. as relating to
Turpin's book, as well as to the addition on the miracles of St.
James. A letter, under the name of the Pope Innocent, asserting the
' codicem' to have been by ' Papa Calixto primitus editum,' is
subjoined; but as in some parts it resembles, so in others it differs
from that ascribed to the same pope in the other MS.
Thus stands the question upon the face of these MSS. Of the
genuineness of these letters, thus attributed to these popes, I give
no opinion, for I cannot judge ; arguments on both sides of the
question might be urged. But even if any of them be factitious.
turpin's .
historyof
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 267
their very forgery would be evidence that Calixtus was at the time CHAP.
thought to be concerned in this book of Turpin's, or he would not VI.
have been the pope to whom it would have been attached. The
fabricators would have made a pope nearer to the time of Charle
magne the voucher of its authenticity, and not one so recent as charle-
Calixtus, unless Calixtus had become notorious about it. magne.
After writing the above, it occurred to me to inspect the Acta
Sanctorum. There I found a copy ofthe treatise of Calixtus on
the miracles of St. James ; July, vol. 6. corresponding with that
in the MS. of Nero, An. It is published in the Acta from two
MSS. ; one, ofthe ' Monasterii Marchianensis ; ' the other, ofthe
' Basilicae S' Petri ; both of which ascribe it to Calixtus ; and the
editor mentions that he had found it under his name, ' in plurimis
bibliotliecis,' and that it was attributed to him ' passim a scripto-
ribus,' and was referred to by Vincentius as his genuine offspring.
But the editor says he cannot persuade himself that it is his ex
actly as he wrote it.
This commentator admits that the letter of Innocent II. approv
ing of these works of Calixtus, has been published by Mariana as
genuine ; and he gives the letter of Calixtus to the convent of
Clugny, which thus explicitly supports and recommends Turpin's
book, and which is apparently that document by which, as the
Belgic Chronicle and MSS. state, he declared it to be authentic.
In this, after declaring ofthe book on St. James, ' quidquid in eo
scribetur authenticum est,' he adds, ' Idem de Historia Caroli quae
a beato Turpino Remensi Archiepiscopo discribetur, statuimus.'
Acta Sanct. p. 44. Hs says that Vincentius, who lived about a
century after Cahxtus, ascribes this to the pope.
From this editor I learnt that Oudin ascribed it to Calixtus, on
the authority of a MS. of Benedict college in Cambridge, p, 44.
I have not seen this MS. ; but in the catalogue of the Benedict
MSS. I find both these works thus described : — ' N° 1317, Calix
tus Papa super miracula S' Jacobi Apostoli. — Idem, super trans-
latione ejusdem. — Liber Turpini Calixtus Papa de inventione
corporis Turpini. — Hunc librum dicit Calixtus Papa esse authen
ticum.' Catal. p. 133.
Thus the MSS. in all countries ascribe to this pope its publica
tion and authentication. It is easy to assert, and as easy to argue,
that these letters are not genuine. We all know how plausibly
numbers have written on Ossian, Rowley, Junius, and Ireland
Shakspeare, on both sides of the question; here all the written
testimony is on one side only. I will only add, that the rational
26i> HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK probabilities of the question seem to be, that if Calixtus had not
VI. been concerned in giving this book of Turpin's to the world, his
name would not have been so pertinaciously and universally at-
literary (.jjj,}jgj to it. ]sfo other but the person mentioned by Allard has
HISTORYOF , . . , . Ill
ENGLAND, been, on any authority, assigned to it; and what he says, connects
it also with the place of which Calixtus was the prelate. The
monk of St. Andre may have been the real author, under Calixtus,
and the pope the public father.
It is also to be remarked, that altho these ancient authorities
attach it to Calixtus, there is no ancient authority that contradicts
the ascription.
I will only add one other circumstance that I have observed,
which may have had some connexion in this pope's mind, with
this subject. The real Tilpin was archbishop of Rheims ; and it
was to Rheims that the body of the only pope who bore the name
of Calixtus, viz. Calixtus I. was transported. And it is apparently
a coincidence worth remarking, that as the letter on Turpin, at-
tribtited to Calixtus, makes Turpin's dead body to be found in a
place laid waste by war, and to be carried to Vienne, so the dead
body of Calixtus I. was taken from another place which the Danes
had devastated, and was brought into Rheims. Flod.
The reader will now judge for himself how far it is right or
wrong to consider Calixtus as the real or putative father of
Turpin's book.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 269
CHAP.
APPENDIX II. VL
That Jeffry s British History probably originated from, the political jeffry's
views of Henry I. bhitish
HISTORY.
THE perception that the History of Turpin so visibly originated ' -.- ¦
from tlie objects and feelings, and was principally pushed into ce
lebrity by the authority of Calixtus II. leads the mind to inquire
whether the British History, of Jeffry of Monmouth, was also con
nected with any worldly interests, or promoted by any worldly
policy of the court of England, in the beginning of the twelfth
century. It was written, and seems to have been made public,
during the latter portion of the roign of Henry L
The first dated proof we have ofthe existence of Jeffry's book,
is the year 1 1 39. Our historian, Henry of Huntingdon, in his letter
to Warinus of Bretagne, who had asked him why he had omitted
in his history all the incidents between Brutus and Julius Caesar,
answers, that although he had very often in(]uired, he could not
find any knowlege of those times, either from verbal tradition, or
in writing, till the year 1 139, when, going to Rome with the arch
bishop Theobald, he was astonished to find (stupens inveni) at
Bee, of which Theobald had been abbot, the written account of
those transactions. A monk here, Robert of Thorigney, a very
zealous collector of books, brought him Jeffry's book to read.
Hari. MSS. N° 1018. There is also a letter of this Robert de
Thorigney, which mentions his putting this book into Henry's
hands, and that Huntingdon had carried his history down to the
death of Henry I. or 1135. MS. ib. Therefore, Huntingdon knew
nothing of Jeffry's History in 1 135, but saw it at Bee in 1139.
Jeifry addresses the Prophecies of Merlin, which he stopped in
the middle of his work to translate, to Alexander, bishop of Lin
coln. L. 7. c. 1. & 2. But Alexander was raised to this see in
1123; M. Pac. 69. ; therefore this Hstory could not have been
either published or completed before 1123. Thus we have these
two extreme terms, within which the book must have been made
pubhc — not earlier than 1123 ; not later than 1139.
But Alured of Beverley has inserted an abridgment of it in his
history. This history he ends just after Michaelmas in the
29 Henry I. or in October 1128. As he leaves off very abruptly
at this period, it has been inferred that he died soon afterwards.
Hearne's Pref. p. 28. Voss. Hist. Lat. 369. But the old biogra
phers, Pitts and Bale, place his death in 1136. On these latter
LITERARY HISTORYOF
270 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK authorities Jeffry's History must have been published before 1 1 36.
VI. But the expressions of Alured in the beginning ofhis book, already
remarked upon, (see before, p, 250.) indicate that he had met with
Jeffry's History in 1128; therefore the correct chronology of its
ENGLAND, pubhcatiou appcars to stand thus: — It could not have appeared
before 1123, and must have appeared before 1136 or 1139, and
most probably was made public in 1128, This statement shews
that it was composed or translated in the latter portion ofthe reign
of Henry I, and decides the question as to the priority of Turpin
or Jeffry. I once doubted if Turpin's work had not been an imita
tion of Jeffry's ; but since I have satisfied myself that Turpin's
work was sanctioned by Pope Calixtus, in 1 122, it must have pre
ceded Jeffry's, which could not have appeared till after 1123.*
How far Jeffry s British History promoted ihe political interests
and objects of Henry I.
I. Henry had taken the crown not only against the hereditary
right of his brother Robert, but also in violation of the compact
made between that prince and William Rufus and his barons,
which appointed him to succeed the latter. Robert was in Pales
tine when Henry usurped it, and upon his return to claim it, almost
all the barons deserted Henry and joined Robert. Alan. Proph,
Merl. 1, 2. p. 74. The clergy and the English barons interfered,
and influenced Robert to compromise his claim ; but the public
feeling was not in favor of Henry's rectitude ; he was ridiculed and
called ' queen goods-rich,' ib. p. 74, and was also in danger of
revolts. It was therefore most important for him to have a book
appear, in which an accredited and revered prophet should have
foretold his reign, and described his actions. His severities to
repress the violences and oppressions of his barons, and to reduce
them to a subordination to law and the crown, and his pecuniary
levies from his subjects, had made him many enemies and caused
many insurrections.
No policy could be more deep and effectual than to have also
all these things predicted by an authority which that age vene
rated ; hence, all these were made part ofthe prophecies ascribed
to Merlin, and inserted by Jeffry in his book. The following
* Some Other dates connected with it may be noticed. It is addressed
to Robert earl of Gloucester; he died iu 1147. Jeffry was made bishop
ofSt. Asaph in I151; Matt. Paris, p. 84; and died 1154. 2Wart.Ai)gl.
Sax. Alexanderdied H47; M. Par. 82. H.Hunt, 394.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES, 271
were understood at that time to be spoken by Merlin of Henry, CHAP,
and are so interpreted by Alanus de Insulis, his contemporary. VI.
' The lion of iustice shall succeed ; at whose roar the Gallic ;
tow^ers and island dragons shall tremble. In his days gold shall British
be extorted from the lily and the nettle, and silver shall flow from history.
the hoofs of those which low. Those that curl their hair shall be ' "'
clothed in various fleeces, and the exterior habit shall shew the
interior things. The feet of those that bark shall be cut off. Wild
beasts shall have peace. Humanity will be grieved at the pu
nishment. Money shall be made round. The rapacity of the kites
shall perish, and the teeth of the wolves be blunted.'
Alanus explains this of Henry. He raised money both from
the good and bad, the clergy and the laity, or the lily and the
nettle. A tax was laid by him on all sales of cattle. He forbad
hunting. Many nobles were accused of conspiring against him,
and punished. He ordered the oboli to be made round, and he
put an end to the depredations and rapines ofthe great and gentry.
Alan. p. 79. The prophecy is also made to foretell that he would
buy his kingdom of Robert. Ib. 123.
Thus his own reign, and the actions ofhis government that were
most objected to, instead of being usurpation and tyranny, were
represented to be fulfilments of the Divine ordinations. Nothing
could be more artfully contrived to turn the prejudices of the
people in his favor.
II. Normandy, having been extorted from France, and the
smaller power, was always in danger of being re-absorbed by the
French government. But when its dukes became kings of Eng
land, the French crown became in its turn endangered ; and thus
the two sovereigns were thrown into a continual state of jealousy
and discord with each other.
But France had become a peculiar object of dread and dislike
to Henry, from its crown claiming to have Normandy held as a fief
from it, and therefore assuming to be its sovereign lord, and as
such, exacting homage and feudal honors from the king of England,
as the condition of his holding Normandy. This was not a mere
personal mortification to kingly pride, but it was a state of the
greatest political danger ; for it made the Norman barons look up
to the king of France as their paramount lord, and on Henry as
a military tenant to him of the duchy, to whom they were in sub
infeudation. The consequence was, that on any dispute or dis
satisfaction with their sovereign in England, they flew off from
272 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK their allegiance to him, and transferred it to the king of France,
VI. or applied to him for assistance against their English lord.
Thus Robert had joined PhiUp, the king of I'rance, against his
literary ^^^^ father, the Conqueror. Al. 65. So the same prince, to main-
ENGLAND. tain his war against Rufus, had sent to Philip, as to his chief lord,
for aid, who flew to help him against his brother ; and a long in
testine war ensued in Normandy. Al. 67. The effect of this poli
tical condition was, that the Norman barons were, as they are
described to be, men who could not be relied on, and who held
faith and fealty to neither France nor England.
Hence it became a great object with Henry to depreciate the
crown of France, and to divest it of all its pretensions to the at
tachment and veneration of both Normandy and England. Many
parts of Jeffry's book had visibly this tendency, and operated to
produce this effect.
In that day of ancestral pride, it was a peculiar personal object
of every king and nobleman to have the highest and most cele
brated descent. The Romans having derived themselves from
Trojans, the Trojan blood became the noblest in the estimation of
their Gothic conquerors. Hence the French kings early claimed
the same superior honor; and Hunnibald had fixed it on the
Frankish throne, by deriving their nation and royalty from Francio
the imagined son of Priam. But as the king of France claimed
homage from Bretagne, Normandy, and all the great dukes and
counts in France, any superiority of ancestral descent became an
auxiliary confirmation of his superior dignity.
It was, therefore, important to the crown of England to paralyze
any right that might Qow from a Trojan descent, by asserting a
similar ancestry. Henry could not immediately deduce the line of
his Norman progenitor Rollo from it ; but he could attach it to the
English crown, and through that to himself, the existing sovereign,
by setting up Brutus as the founder of the monarchy of England,
and by making him a Trojan. Accordingly, the first chapters in
Jeffry's book make Brutus the great-grandson of .^neas, and de
duce both the sovereignty and population of England from this
Trojan chief. Thus the crown of England became as noble in its
ancestral origin as that of France, which by this representation
could not pretend to any nobler blood.
But the point of feudal lordship was a question far more vex
atious and formidable. In Henry's seventeenth year, or in 1116,
many ofthe Norman barons, who had sworn fealty to him, revolted,
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 273
and transferred it to Louis of France. Al. Bev. 147. This be- CHAP.
gan a quarrel between the two crowns, and a dangerous insur- VI.
rection in Normandy, which was ended for the time by Henry's ;
son William, three years after, submitting to do homage to the g„,j,gj,
king of France for Normandy, lb, 148. In 1123, the revolts ofthe history,
barons again brought on war there. Further wars ensued, aided ' ^' '
by the king of France, in 1127, which plunged the French and
English crowns into a renewed state of hostilities.
"To destroy the French crown's right of homage, and to abate
the pubhc opinion of its greatness and dignity, Jeffry's book "re
presented France as having been several times- conquered and
governed by British kings : — by Brutus, by Ebraucus, by Belinus,
and by Arthur. The two last are described to have governed it ;
and Arthur was represented as having separated Normandy and
Anjou from the French crown, and given them to two of his
knights and officers. These facts took away the duty of homage
from the English crown, and set up a claim of England for the
submission to it of France, of which Arthur had been crowned
king, all whose regal rights Henry now possessed and exercised.
The right of homage claimed by the king of France from the
great states in that country, was further struck at by a denial of
any ancient French monarchy there. Jeffry's book is made to
declare, that in the time of Brutus ' Gaul was subject to twelve
princes, who with equal authority possessed the government of
that whole country;' 1. 1. c. 13 ; and these twelve peers of Gaul
came to England and assisted at Arthur's coronation, when he
was crowned king of France, and of all the other countries he
had conquered, l.g. c. 12. On this representation, the later kings
of France could have none but an usurped right to tre-at its great
states as their feudatories.
These circumstances tended to remove from the Norman and
English chivalry any dread ofthe French power; and by shewing
how often it had been conquered by Britain, to revive a military
ambition and elevation to again invade it, and to seek for profit
and glory from attacking it. It was the interest of Henry to excite
these feelings, and thereby to turn the baronial mind from making
dangerous connexions with the French king. Arthur's history
was therefore of peculiar use to Henry on this vital point.
III. It had also another important connexion with his policy
and interest; he had taken the crown of England from his brother
Robert, and afterwards Normandy, and imprisoned him for life in
Cardiff Castle. But Robert had a son, whom the French king and
Vol. IV. T
274 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK the continent favored and assisted, and who obtained the earldom
Vi. of Flanders, and was urging a dangerous warfare with Henry, at
first for Normandy, and consequentially, for England.
literary jjenry was thus endangered and attacked by his nephew
HISTORYOF ¦¦5'' "^ . ./I
ENGLAND. William, as Arthur had been by his nephew Modred; the con
test in both cases was for the crown of England. Nothing was
more alarming to Henry than this situation ; his own son's death
in 1 1 2o left him and his throne without a male heir. Conspiracies
began in favor of his nephew, even in his own court ; his barons
b^an to join Robert's son, and he became so alarmed as fre
quently to change his bed.
It was exactly calculated to abate this state of danger, that
Jeffry's book should so fully shew that the death of Arthur and
the ruin of the Britons arose from the chief and nation abetting
his nephew's rebellion against liim. To enforce this topic, the
Britons are stated to have lost their liberties and country by their
intestine divisions ; and Jeffry adds to his author an emphatic
address, to dissuade the country from such civil discord. It is the
only part in which he takes this trouble. 1. ii. e.g. The last
paragraph ofhis book, 1, 12. c. 19. thus enforces the same topic ;
' Besides their wars with the Saxons, the country, by quarrels
among themselves, became a perpetual scene of misery and
slaughter.' IV. Henry was anxious to obtain the subjection of Wales, and
planted a colony of Flemings in it, to promote his ulterior objects.
He, like his father, was also desirous to keep Scotland in a state
of feudal homage to him. It was promotive of these purposes,
that Brutus, the fu-st monarch of Britain, was shewn to have
possessed the whole island; that his descendant and the vene
rated law-maker Dunwallo Molmutius reduced all Great Britain
and Wales into obedience to him, and established his legislation
over all ; 1. 2, c. 17 ; that his son Belinus had also the sovereignty
ofthe whole island, 1. 3. c. 5. and sent a Spanish colony to people
Ireland ; and that all the succeeding kings, down to Julius Ca?sar,
were kings of the whole island. With the same view it is said of
Arthur, ' The entire monarchy of Britain belonged to him by
hereditary right.' 1. g. c. 1. Arthur invaded Scotland, and there
conquered both the Irish and Scots ; and, it is added, ' all the
bishops of that miserable country came barefooted, and kneeling
down implored his mercy for it, since they were willing to bear
the yoke he should put upon them,' c. C. No statement could
more benefit Henry in his project of a similar sovereignty than
JEFFRY S
ERITISU
DURING THE IMIDDL^ AGES. 275
these. This is not a mere speculation. Jeffry's British History CHAP.
was felt to give so firm a foundation for this claim, that Edward I. VI.
actually based his right to the sovereignty of Scotland on this
book, in his celebrated letter to the pope, in which he officially
thus justified his pretensions to it. The grounds he took from it, history
were, that Brutus had given England to his eldest son Locrin, ' \'
and Scotland to his second, on whose death it returned to Locrin ;
that it was held under the kings of England afterwards, and re
conquered by Arthur, to whom its king did homage ; and tfiul',
' all the kings of Scotland have successively been subject to all
the kings ofthe Britons.' Wals. Ypod. 492.
V. A subject deeply interesting to Henry, was to lessen or to
sever the subordination of his great clergy to the papal chair.
As Pope Gregory the Great had sent Austin to convert the Anglo-
Saxons, and had thereby founded the English church, and ap
pointed its prelates, all the clergy looked up to the pope as their
religious sovereign; and both of Henry's archbishops, Anselm of
Canterbury, and Thurstan of York, had fought the papal battle
against him.
Jeffi-y's book tended to lessen this dependence on the Roman
see, and the attachment to it. For instead of allowing Gregory to
have been the first founder of Christianity in Britain, it placed
a British king, Lucius, four centuries before, who himself desired
to be a Christian, and sent to Rome for religious instructors. In
stead of making the pope the creator of the prelates of the island,
it describes three pagan archflamens, and twenty-eight flamens,
to have been converted into the three archbishops and twenty-
eight bishops of England and Wales, and that these succeeded
to the possessions and territories of the ancient idol temples.
I. 4. c. 19. It made the very emperor who established Chris-
tiam'ty in the Roman empire, Constantino the Great, to have
been bom in Britain, son of a British princess, and to have be
come the emperor of the worid. 1. 5. c. 6-8. To abate all
veneration for Rome, it also described that city and the nation to
have been formerly conquered by a British king, Brennus ; and
it exhibited Arthur as refusing to pay it the tribute which it
claimed, and as defeating all the forces and allies of the empire,
which were collected on purpose to enforce it and to attack him.
1. 10. c. 1-4. This attack and defeat are made the most pro
minent object of Arthur's history.
VI. Another point of great moment to Henry was, to induce
the barons to be attached, and subordinate and faithful to him ;
literary niSTOIlYOF
276 HIsfORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK to make the honors, appearaince and festivities of his court their
A'l. great ambition and desire, and to incite them to be docile and
obedient to him. For this purpose, Arthur's barons were repre
sented of this character and conduct ; and all the consequential
ENGLAND, romains made him the venerated and commanding sovereign of
his iiofcles and chivalry. It was important to that unity and
interiial peace in the nation, as well as to that external greatness
from it which Henry desired, that the great should be induced to
lajfcaside their jealousies and competitions with each other, and
live in something like fraternal affection. No invention was more
calculated to pi-oduce this than that idea of the Round Table,
equalizing all, and precluding all contest for dignity and pre
cedence on public festivities, which produced so much ill blood
and warfare. Hence, to be knights of the round table was
made the highest honor and the noblest character of Arthur's
court in Jeffry's book, and in all the compositions and tales that
originated from it.
It appears to me that those coincidences with Henry's political
objects could not have occurred in this book from mere accident.
No less than four times is France repi-esented to have been con
quered by those who enjoyed the British crown : — by Brutus ; by
Belinus ; by Blaximin ; and by Arthur. There is a studied exal
tation, in this, of Britain above France ; so contrary in these
facts to all recorded history, that they seem more likely to have
been invented to sei've a political purpose, than to have casually
occurred to a mere fabulous narrator.
The book is also founded on a principle of exciting the ambi
tion and of producing the aggrandisement of Britain ; for when
Brutus inquires of the oracle of Diana where he shall go, he is
directed by that to sail in search of an island which was to be
come another Troy, and to whose kings ' all the world was to be
subject.' Such a prediction as this, placed at the very head-piece
of the book, looks like a design to rouse an extraordinary ambi
tion in the English mind for some great object of worldly, policy ;
to prompt it to large enterprizes of aggression against its neigh
bours, which would occupy the great barons and chivalry, and
prevent intestine wars.
To these remarks we may add, that Henry had also some
inducements to counteract Calixtus in his Turpin's book : he had
become involved in a personal dispute with this very pope.
Eadmer, who lived at the time, has informed us, that when
Thurstan, the archbishop of York, would not submit to the pre-
JEFPRV S
BRITISH UISTOIIY.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 277
eminence of Canterbury, but went to Calixtus to be consecrated CHAP.
by him, Henry sent a special messenger to this pontiff, to request VI.
him not to do it. Calixtus returned a positive assurance to Henry
that he would do nothing but what the king wished, and yet
soon afterwards, in violation of his promise, actually consfecrated
the refractory Thurstan.
The displeasure of Henry at this conduct, occasioned Calixtus
to visit him at Gisors, and to entreat him to befriend Thurstan.
The king refused, and told the pope that he had sworn not^to
receive him. Calixtus answered, ' I am Apostolicus, and if you
will do what I ask, I will absolve you from your vow.' Henry
coolly said, he must consult his council. He did so ; and sent the
pope this answer : — ' Though he says that as Apostolicus he will
absolve me from my pledge, it does not become the honor of a
king to consent to such an absolution ; for who will hereafter
trust to any one that plights his faith, if he can plead my example
in getting such an absolution ?' Eadm. 126. After this, Calixtus
threatened him with an excommunication, and the archbishop of
Canterbury with a suspension. Ib. 137. Henry and Calixtus were
thus involved in a personal quarrel with each other.
The book of Turpin, which Calixtus had published and sanc
tioned, did not become popular in England. Its fables of Charle
magne were not adopted by any of our old chroniclers. Its greatest
object was, as we have -before remarked, to urge the sovereigns
and great into crusades against the Mahometans. But it was not
Henry's interest to lead his barons that way ; for the largest part
of his reign he was keeping his brother Robert in a dungeon,
whose high reputation had arisen from his actions in Palestine,
where he had been offered, and had refused, the kingdom of Je
rusalem. Hence, it was Henry's interest to counteract the aim
of Calixtus in his Turpin, and by an imitated fictitious work to
give the chivalry ofhis country a different direction— and Jeffry's
British History had this effect ; for its publication created a quite
different description of romantic and narrative composition,
Turpin and Jeffiry really head two distinct and opposed classes
of ' romans and estories ;' corresponding with the different aims
of Calixtus and Henry, All the romances of the class of Charle
magne, and that sprang from Turpin, are characterized by re
commending and describing battles with the Mahometans ; all
enforce the wish of Calixtus to make crusades the object of knight-
errantry ; all the knights in these, fight and conquer Saracens ;
but in all those which are connected with Arthur, or that origi-
T 3
LITERARY
HISTORYOF
278 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK nated from Jeifry, no crusades and no battles with the Mahometans
VI. are mentioned or recommended. That Arthur lived 200 years
before tliese came into Spain, would have made no difference in
that age, when all history and chronology were set at defiance ;
ENGLAND, and even Alexander the Great was represented in one, to have
made a journey to the Roman emperor Constantius. Murat.
Ant, p, 958.
By making Arthur the main hero, the mind was indeed led into
a different path, and he was therefore wisely chosen to be such ;
but the fact is clear, that Jeffry's book began a series of romans
quite opposed in aim and subject to those of Turpin and Charle
magne. The book of Jeffry, therefore, however it originated, had the
effect of counteracting the book of Turpin and Cahxtus ; the
crusades never became popular in England, nor were supported
by its kings, till Henry II. was forced by the pope to promise to
undertake one as a penance for Becket's death ; yet he only
made preparations for it ; he never actually undertook one ; it
was his son, Richard I, who was the first English sovereign that,
in 1189, led the force of England into the plains of Palestine.
Having thus shewn how much Jeffry's book was directed in
its main subjects to promote the political aims and interests of
Henry I. let us inquire —
II. iVhat does Jeff'ry himself state as to its composition ?
He informs us that the actions of Arthur, and other British
kings, not mentioned by Gildas or Bede, were pleasingly cele
brated by many persons, by heart, as if they had been written ;
and that while thinking of these, Walter, an archdeacon of Oxford,
offered him a very ancient book in the British language, which in
a continued regulai", story, and elegant style, related the actions of
all the British kings, from Brutus to Cadwallader. At Walter's
request, he undertook the translation of this book into Latin.
He then addresses the book to Robert earl of Gloucester, the
son of Henry I, that it may be so corrected by this nobleman's
advice, that, when polished by his refined wit and judgment, it
may be thought to be his production, and not the poor offspring
of Jeffry of Monmouth,
He mentions in his 1 7th chapter, that Gildas the historian has
given a large account of the quarrel between Lud, the brother of
Cassivellaun, and his other brother Nennius, on his changing the
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 270
name of London from New Troy to Caer Lud; and adds, 'for CHAP.
which reason / choose to pass it over, for fear of debasing by my VI,
account of it what so great a writer has so eloquently related, ;
He narrates that Hudibras built Caer-lem, or Canterbury, „„j.,,g„
Caer-guen, or Winchester, and the town of Mount Paladin, now history.
Shaftsbury, ' At this place an eagle spoke while the wall of the ' ' '
town was building ; and, indeed, / should not have failed trans
mitting the speech to posterity, if / had thought it true as the rest
of the history,' 1, 2. c. 9. Thomp. Tr.
After twice mentioning that Gildas had written on Ihe laws of
Molmutius, and also on St. German and Lupus, he says of the
first Christian teachers of Britain, ' their names and acts are re
corded in a book which Gildas wrote concerning the victory of
Aurelius Ambrosius ; and what is delivered in so bright a treatise
needs not to be repeated here in a meaner style.' 1. 4. c, 20.
He thus begins his seventh book : ' I had not got so far as this
place of the history, when the subject of public discourse happen
ing to he concerning Merlin, 1 was obliged to publish his Pro
phecies at the request of my acquaintance, but especially of Alex
ander, bishop of Lincoln, a prelate of the greatest piety and wis
dom. Out of a desire, therefore, to gratify him, I translated these
prophecies, and sent them to him with the following letter.'
1. 7. c. 1.
' The regard I owe to your great worth, most noble prelate !
has obliged me to undertake the translation^of Merlin's Prophecies
out of British into Latin, before I had made an end of the history
which I had begun concerning the acts of the British kings. For.
my design was to have finished that first, and afterwards to have
explained this work ; lest, by having both upon my hands at once,
I should be less capable of attending with any exactness to either.'
1. 7. c. 2.
He begins his eleventh book with Modred's war with Arthur,
thus : ' Of the matter now to be treated of, most noble consul !
Jeffry of Monmouth shall be silent; but will, though in a mean
style, yet briefly, relate what he found in the British book above
mentioned, and heard from that most learned historian Walter,
archdeacon of Oxford, concerning the wars which this renowned
king, upon his return to Britain after his victory, waged with his
nephew.' I. 11. c. 1.
The apostrophe upbraiding the Britons, 1. 11. 3. 9. is his own
insertion ; for he begins the next chapter with the words, ' But
to return to the history.' c. 10. He describes the British clergy
T4
280 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK as flying from the Saxons into Wales, others into Bretagne ; ' But
^'I- these things I shall relate elsewhere, when I translate the book
concerning their banishment,' c. lo.
He thus closes his work after Athelstan : ' As for the kings that
have succeeded in Wales since that time, I leave the history of
them to Caradoc of Lancarvan, my contemporary, as I also do
the kings of the Saxons to William of Malmsbury and Henry of
Huntingdon-. But I advise them to be silent concerning the kings
of the Britons, since they have not that book written in the British
tongue, which Walter, archdeacon of Oxford, brought out of Bre
tagne, and which being a true history, published in honor of
those princes, I have thus taken care to translate.' 1. 12. c. 20.
As in these passages Jeffry asserts that Vv^alter, an archdeacon
of Oxford, had brought out of Bretagne a very ancient book in the
British language, containing a regular story of all the British
kings from Brutus to Cadwallader, which the archdeacon desired
him to translate into Latin ; our first question becomes, whether
Jeffi-y's translation gives us all this British book, and only this
British book ? On this subject we find that he himself declares,
that, upon the wars between Arthur and Modred, he has added to
the account he found in the ancient book, what he had heard from
Walter the archdeacon, 1. ii.c. 1. He has also inserted the
prophecies of Merlin, 1. 7. c. 1, 2 ; and the apostrophe on the
British civil wars, 1. 11. c. 9.
He likewise, as above mentioned, has chosen to pass over the
quarrel between the brothers of Cassivellaun, because Gildas had
written on them, 1. 1. c. 17.; and to omit the prophecy ofthe eagle
on Shaftsbury, because he did not think it true, 1. 2. c. 9.
He also has purposely forborne to give the account of the first
Christian teachers of Britain, 1. 4. c. 20 ; and the emigrations of
the British clergy into Wales and Bretagne, 1. 11. c. 10; but he
does not distinctly say that these were in the old British book.
I would not press the point beyond his own admissions ; but it
is clear that his work is not merely and entirely the old British
work — at least in these additions and omissions. We cannot, there
fore, be certain whether he has, or not, interpolated or expunged
any other parts. He tells us that there were many traditional
tales of Arthur and the other British kings in popular circulation,
before he received this ancient book, and that he was meditating
upon them, and was regretting that they had not been noticed by
Gildas or Bede, when it was put into his hands. He has not said
whether he has interwoven any of these in his history ; but as he
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 281
did not confine himself to be an exact translator only of the Bri- CHAP.
tish book, we cannot be sure that that his memory did not assist VS.
him in his composition. We learn from him that there was an
historical work of Gildas on some incidents in the history of Bri- jj^j^jju^
tain, since Cassivellaun, which has since perished; but he does history.
not refer to this author any part of his History of Arthur. This ' ¦' '
fact, however, is clear, that he assumed the liberty of omitting and
adding to his original whenever he pleased. That he has taken
this liberty is further proved by what he mentions on Brennius ;
' But the rest of liis actions and his death, seeing they are deli
vered in the Roman histories, I shall here pass over, to avoid pro
lixity, and meddling with what others have treated of, which is
foreign to my design." 1. 3. c. 10. This language implies that he
has made up his work as he liked, as to omissions ; and if he has
omitted where he chose, and added as he chose, what certainty
have we that his work is merely the British book in all its other
parts? From the language of his dedication of Merhn's Prophecies to
the bishop of Lincoln, we may infer that it was made known in
the circles ofthe great some time before it was actually published ;
for he stops in the middle of it to say, that Merlin had then be
come so much talked of among the public, that he was desired by
the bishop to translate the British magician's prophecies ; and he
tells us, that before he had finished his history he undertook this
version. His original plan he declares to have been, to have first
finished his history ; hence the words ofhis dedication of it do not
prove the time of its composition to have been after the death of
Henry I. He is stated to have made two publications of it ; the
first in four books only, of which a MS. was stated to be in Ben
nett's College in Cambridge ; and afterwards in eight books, with
Merlin's Prophecies. Thompson's Pref. xvii. Hence the date of
1128 for its first appearance does not seem to be disproved. His
dedications appear to have varied. The printed copy begins with
one to Robert earl of Gloucester. But Simner mentions one MS.
at Berne, which had a dedication to king Stephen, the antagonist
of Robert. Cat. Bern. Roquef. Etat. p. 143.
III. The popularity of the Work.
If it was a mere accident that archdeacon Walter, in the reign
of Henry I. met the old book in Bretagne, and gave it to an ob
scure monk of Monmouth to translate into Latin, how came it to
attain such a sudden, rapid, and extensive popularity as Alured of
282 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK Beverley and Henry of Huntingdon imply. We have already
VI. alluded to the strong words of the former ; we will give them here
at length : —
literary , ^j jjj^j. jjjjjg jjjg narrations ofthe history ofthe Britons were
ENGLAND, reported by the mouths of many ; and he who had not the know-
' V ' lege of such narrations incurred the mark of rusticity. I confess
that as much from my reverence for antiquity, for which I always
had a high veneration, as from the urbanity of its style, which,
tho I was not acquainted with it, was yet very pleasingly present
to the younger ones who remembered it, I was often ashamed,
amid such confabulators, that I had not yet acquired the aforesaid
History ; what more ? I sought for the History, and as soon as
I found it I applied myself most intently to reading it. But while
I was delighted with this new reading of ancient things, my mind
became eager to transcribe it ; but neither opportunity of time
nor the state of my purse permitted this. Yet to satisfy my ear
nest desire in some measure, and to take away a little of the evil
of those days, I endeavored to pluck some of the flowers of this
History, not for the learned, but for myself, and for those who, like
myself, were ignorant of such things ; especially those parts which
did not exceed credibility, and would delight the reader and fasten
on the memory.' 1. i. p, 2. He mentions, that he should add to
his ' deflorationes,' what other sources would supply.
That the ' British History' which he thus abridged was Jeffi-y's,
no one can doubt, who candidly compares them ; tho Hearne, in
the occasional oddity of his mind, chose, against Leiand, to de
clare the contrary : ' Galfredi non deflorator Aluredus.' Pref. p. 22.
But not only the subject, but many passages are the same ; and
the harmonious fourteen hexameters and pentameters of the ad
dress to Diana and her oracle, are given verbatim. It is true,
Alured does not name Jeffry, but only calls it ' The British His
tory ;' but this is Jeffry's own title ofhis work.
It is a fair question to ask, why Alured did not quote it as
Jeffry's ? The true answer seems to be, that the History was not
Jeffry's, according to his own account ; he wns but the Latin
translator. It was given by him to the world, as ' a very ancient
British book brought out of Bretagne,' by Walter ; so that it was
properly called ' The British History.' As Jeffry's, it could have
no autliority whatever ; nor could it have it answered any poli
tical purpose to reckon it as his. The object for which it was
countenanced and circulated required a far higher authority ; and
therefore, at the time of its appearance and first popularity, Jeffry's
JEFFRY S
BRITISH
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 283
name was sunk, and it was brought forward and spoken of as CHA P.
' The Brifffsh History.' Afterwards, when its political use or ten- VI.
dencies declined, Jeffry's name became applied to it, rather to dis
credit than to uphold it ; then it was spoken of; attacked and de
cried as his work, and has since been known only with his name. history.
That it was not spoken of at the time of its appearance as
Jeffry's History, and that it was considered as a book of superior
authority to his, appears from the passage in Gaimar, which alludes
to it. He says that his patroness ' Dame Custance la gentil,' who
caused him to write his ' estorie,' sent to Helmslac for the book
of Walter, whom in this line he calls ' espac' He then adds this
particular information about it, which demands attention, as a
further account of what was Jeffry's original, and as a supplement
to his statement.
' Robert the Great, of Gloucester, caused these 'gestes' to be
translated according to the books of the Welsh, which they had
of the British kings. Walter Espee asked for it, when Robert
sent it to him ; then Walter Espee lent it to Arnil, the son of Gile-
bert. Dame Custance borrowed it of her lord, whom she much
loved. Geffrai Gaimar wrote this book, and put in it the narra
tions which the Welsh had left, which he had thus obtained, whe
ther they were right or whether they were wrong ; the good book
of Oxford, which was Walter's the archdeacon. He completed
well his book from it ; and this geste was also completed from the
history of Winchester, from Wassingburc, an English book, where
he found written of the kings, and of all the emperors that were
lords of Rome, and had tribute from England of the kings whom
they had held ; of their lives, of their quarrels, of their adventures,
and of their actions ; how each maintained his country ; which
loved peace and which loved war. Here he will find all this most
fully who will look into this book ; and he that does not believe
what I say, may inquire of Nicole de Trailli.' — MS. Bib. Reg. 13.
A 21.
This Walter Espee was Sir Walter Espee, of Helmsley, who
is mentioned with much celebrity by some of our old chroniclers.
John, the prior of Haguestad, in his brief Historia, says of
liira : 'In 1132 Walterus Espee, vir magnus et potens in con-
spectu regis et totius regni, received the monks of the Cestercian
order sent by Bernard the abbot of Clairvaux, and placed them in
the solitude of Blachoumor, on the river Rie ; from which the
monastery was called Reevallis.' Twysd. Ang. Script, v. 1. p. 257.
284 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK Ethelred, a future abbot of this place, thus describes him :
VI. ' Walter Espee was there ; an old man, full of days ; active in
mind, prudent in his counsels ; mild in peace and pi evident in
war ; preserving always friendship with his companions and fide-
. lity to his kings. He was tall and large, with black hair and
-" a profuse beard. He had an open and spacious forehead, large
eyes, and a voice like a trumpet, but with great majesty of tone."
The abbot details his speech to animate his associates on the
expedition to Scotland, in which the battle of the Standard was
fought and won. Ethel. Abb. Riev. p. 337-346. Bromton,
p. 1028, and Knyghton, p. 2371, also mention this knight; and
the latter adds the ten collegiate rules of his foundation.
Gaimar refers those who doubt him, to Nicole de Trailli : ' He
that does not believe what I say, may inquire of Nicole de Trailli.'
MS. Bib. Reg. cited in Hist. Mid. Ages. p. 353; and sir Walter's
Grant to the Rievaux Monastery, printed by Dugdale from the
MS. in the Cotton Library, Julius, D 1, informs us who this
Nicole de Trailli was. He was the husband of one of sir ^^'al-
ter's sisters. The Cotton MS. Vitell. p. 4, quoted also by Dug
dale, mentions that sir Walter in his youth married Adelina,
and had by her a son, Walter, who was growing up to be like
himself; but unfortunately having a taste for riding horses at full
speed, urged one of them so much beyond its strength that it
fell from exhaustion, and threw its young master, who died from
a broken neck. Some time after this, sir Walter bequeathed by
will his residuum between his three sisters, of whom the second,
Albreda, married Nicholaus de Traylye ; and the grandson of his
third daughter built the castle of Helmisley in that district. Dug
dale, Mon. V. 1. p, 727 & 728, from MS. Vitell.
In his grant to the monastery, sir Walter mentions his forest
of Helmeslac, and his nephews ' Gaufridi de Traeli, William, Gil
bert, and Nicholas, sons of my half sister Albrea.' Dugdale, p.729,
from MS. Julius.
These documents afford us a satisfactory comment on Gaimar's
account as to the sources of his poem on the ancient kings of
Britain. We thus learn that Robert earl of Gloucester, the natural
son of Henry I. caused the Welsh book brought out of Bretagne
by the king's justiciary Walter Calenius, the archdeacon of Ox
ford, to be translated into Latin; that sir Walter Espee of
Helmeslac obtained this translation from earl Robert, and lent
it to Arnil, the son of Gilebert ; and that the lady Custance or
Constance obtained the loan of it for Gaimar, to compose that
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 285
part of his history from it ; and that Gaimar, anxious for the vin- CHAP.
dication of his own veracity in thus stating the authority for his VI.
narrative, refers all who chose to inquire about it to Nicole de
Trailli. By the Carta we perceive that this Nicole was a real
person, and the brother-in-law to sir Walter. Gaimar, Sir Walter,
Nicole, and Jeffry of Monmouth, appear to have been contem
poraries. Wace's Brut, in like manner, does not appear to be a mere
copy of Jeffry's work. He takes all his work from the same British
history; narrating and dilating on its incidents as he pleases ; but
he does not publish it as Jeffry's book versified by him, but as
his own work and translation : ' He that would hear and know
who the kings were, and whence they came, that first held Eng
land, and in what order they reigned. Master Wace has translated
about it ; he relates the truth as the books devise it, when the
Greeks had taken Troy.'
So, on Arthur's death, after mentioning that he was taken to
Avalon to have his wounds dressed ; ' Thence yet the Bretons
expect him, as they say and understand ; from thence he will yet
come alive. Master Wace who made this book will say no more of
his end than the prophet Merlin has said of it. Merlin declared
that Arthur's death should remain doubtful, and he has spoken
truth ; for men have always since doubted of it, and will still
doubt, as I believe, whether he be dead or alive.' — Wace Brut,
MS. Bib. Reg. 13. A 21.
This book is also not mentioned as Jeffry's, by the contempo
rary, Alanus de Insulis. He wrote his commentaries on Merlin's
Prophecies on it, after Henry II. had acceded, and after his five
sons were horn, and after one of these died, and while the other
four, Henry, Richard, Geoffry and John, were alive ; Al. Proph.
p. 90, 1 ; and therefore between 1168, when John was born, and
1183, when Henry died. In this work he never mentions Jeffry,
tho he obviously had the book before him ; but as Jeffry and
others had styled it ' The British Flistory,' so he refers to it three
times, as the 'Historia Britonum,' pp. 34, gg, and 182, quoting
each time what we find in Jeffry.
The Walter alluded to by Jeffry, was Walter Calenius, whose
name occurs as archdeacon of Oxford in 1110, in the Cartulary
of Abingdon, and also in 1138. Tanner Bib. 147. He was the
Jdsticiarius of Henry. Ib.
Thus the British hook was brought into England by one of
Henry's great legal officers, his justiciarius — exactly such a source
HISTORYOF ENGLAND
286 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK as it would have come from if our supposition be just, that it ori-
VI. ginated from Henry's policy.
Henry's connexion with Wales and Bretagne is very apparent.
LITERARY q|. j^j^ f^^j. ijjs],ops, who wBrc residing in his court in Normandy,
and whom he sent to the council called by Calixtus, to Rheims, in
iiig, two were Welsh bishops; Bernard, bishop of St. David's,
and Urban, bishop of Glamorgan. Ead. 1 24. These were also
two of the four prelates who attended him at Abingdon, on the
consecration of the bishop of Chester ; ib. p. 137 ; as if tliey were
his most confidential prelates ; and in his wars in Normandy he
is represented as having collected a large number of Breton
knights. Al. Bev.
After this book came out, we find it was very early transmitted
to the most celebrated abbey in Normandy — that of Bee, from
which both Lanfranc and Anselm had proceeded ; the place most
likely to give it credit in Normandy.
For all these reasons it seems a warrantable inference, that the
British History which Jeffry latinized, was composed or adopted
to suit the policy of Henry I. and to counteract the effect of Tur
pin's book, and was patronised by him and his successors for its
political effect. Henry's literary taste favors the supposition.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 207
CHAP. VII.
On the Lays and Fables of Marie — On the style of the
Norman Trouveurs, and its progress into the present French.
iHE most interesting of all the Anglo-Norman fie- lays and
titious poetry, are the lays of Marie.' Being taken uari£,&c.
from Breton tales, they are extremely curious, as they ' ¦' '
shew the ideas, imaginations and feelings, of which
some of these consisted; and as no other have been
preserved that can compete with them in antiquity,
they may be considered as presenting to us some of
the Breton tales in their most genuine form. They
are far more pleasing in their incidents and their
mode of narration, and for their conciseness, fancy
and impression, than any of the endless stories in
their myriads of verses of the old romans.
As she calls herself Marie, and says she vpas of
France,^ it is reasonably inferred that she was a native
of that country ; and most probably, from her con
nexion with England, of its province of Normandy.
She addresses herself to a king,^ whom she after
wards calls Henry;" and as she speaks of him as
' M. Roquefort has printed her lays, fables and other poems, in two
volumes 8vo. Paris, 1820. The chief MS. of her work is in the British
Museum, Hari. N" 978, whence M. de la Rue recommended it to public
notice, in his memoir printed in Archaeol. v. 13. p. 36-67.
° She names herself several times. In her first tale, ' Oiez .Seigneurs !
ke dit Marie.' I, p. 48. In her work on the Purgatory of St. Patrick,
' Je Marie,' 2. p. 499 ; but at the end of her fables she thus more fully
describes herself ' Marie ai num : si sui de Fraunce.' 2. p. 40 1 .
' In the prologue to her lais, ' En I'honur de vos, nobles reis.' p. 44.
* ' Le rois Henris qui moultr I'ainor de translata puis en Engleiz,'
2. p. 401. Her words imply that Henry turned them into English, and
she, afterwards, into French. 402.
288 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK knowing English, it is generally admitted that this
^^- was Henry 111," Former writers knew only her fables,
LITERARY till M. la Rue observed the MS, of her lays in the
EiG^TJo" British Museum," Her fables are dedicated to a count
William,'^ who is believed to have been William Long-
sword, earl of Salisbury, the natural son of Henry IL*
That her poems were in high repute in her day, we
learn from her contemporary Denys Piramus,'
She evinces great anxiety for literary reputation;
evidently thinks her tales will produce much moral
improvement in society; talks of her own merit, and
intimates that she had enemies who disturbed her.'"
That her Lais afford much information on the man
ners ofthe thirteenth century; that her descriptions
are faithful and amusing; that she fixes attention by
the choice of her subjects, and by the interest she
gives them ; that she frequently speaks to the heart
by the situations of her heroes, by the catastrophe,
and by her power of transferring her own feelings
to the reader ; and that her diction is simple and
5 See M. Roquefort's remarks on this fact, p. 12, 13; and yet it may
be Henry, the son of Henry II. who died 1183.
^ See his Essay on her poems in tlie Archaeol. v. 13.
' ' Puramur le cunte Willaume.' p. 401.
° Roquef. 20. But M. Meon, in his publication of the curious old
work, ' Le Roman du Renart,' Paris, 1820, has added an ancient piece,
called ' Le Couronnement du Renart,' which is addressed to William
count of Flanders, who was killed at a tourney in 1251, He thinks this
to have been the person whom Mary calls ' Le cunte Willaume,' and
that this couronnement is her composition. Tbe roman itself contains
30,360 verses. It is a severe satire on the manners of the twelfth cen
tury, and acquired so much notice as to be cited by Gautier de Coiici,
who died in 1236.
' He thus speaks of them :
' Ses lais soleient as dames plaire
De joie les oient et de gre.
Car sunt seluu lor volente.' B, Mus. MSS. Domit. A 11.
'° See her prologue to her Lais, 42-46 ; aud the beginning of Guge-
mar, 48.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES, 289
natural, and tho free and rapid, yet omitting no de- chap.
tail ; and that she may claim the praise of good taste, ^^
pleasing thought, and an unaffected sensibility," are
the just commendations of her editor, which no one
who studies her writings will be disposed to dimi
nish. His remarks, that her fables display a dis
tinguished good sense, a sprightly simplicity in the
mode of telling them, and a justness in their moral
application, and that even Fontaine may have studied
them to his own benefit,'* are equally unexception
able. We have before observed, that her Lais are all
Breton stories, and they prove that fairy tales were
prevalent in Bretagne. I once thought it unlikely
that Bretagne could have had any connexion of
mind with Arabia, or the east, to whom fairies and
genii seem most appropriated ; but since I have ob
served that Marbodius, who died 1123, and was
bishop of Rennes, in Bretagne, professed to have
translated his poem on precious stones from one
made by Evax, king of Arabia, and in that poem
makes several allusions to the Arabs," I cannot but
feel, altho this ascription ofhis work to such a source
may have been a fiction, yet that it rather indicates
that the Breton mind had, as Mr. Warton thought,
some acquaintance with Arabian literature, at least
in reputation, and had so much respect for it, that
" M. Roquefort's notice, p. 14, 15. '= Roquef Ib. 21.
" This work of Marbodius was in Latin, and has been quoted in this
volume before. What Duclos saw, and called the most ancient poem
in the old French that was known, (Acad. Inscrip. v. 26. p. 302,) is but a
translation of it, the date of which is not certain. Du Than's poems ar^
older. In this translation Marbodius thus mentions Evax :,
Evax fut un mult riche reis
Lu regne tint des Arabais.
Mult fut de plusieurs choses sages :
Mult aprist de plusieurs languages :
and makes him contemporary with Nero.
Vol. IV, U
HISTORYOF ENGLAND.
290 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK it was creditable in Bretagne to refer to it.'* Yetfai-
ries were not unknown in Wales, and therefore may
LITERARY havc bccu from that country naturalized in Bretagne.'*
Several of Marie's tales are founded on the agency
of supernatural beings, tho of the more agreeable
kind, and of Breton origin. There seems to have
been in every age, and yet to be in every country,
a taste for the supernatural. There are few bosoms
which have not some sensibility to its impressions.
All have at times mysterious feelings, which it is a
labor to suppress. We tend both to believe and to
desire something superior to humanity, and thus na
ture herself has given us that impressibility, to which
writers of genius have so often appealed, and seldom
appeal entirely in vain. It is pleasing to many to
dream of the improbable.
That the human mind has sympathies, which can
not be defined, for the unknown, which it is unable
to penetrate ; and for the invisible, whicb it is ever
desiring to animate and embody, is shewn by the
'¦' See before, p. 213.
" M, Roquefort has published with the Lais, a liberal French trans
lation of them, which maybe read with pleasure. The lays are fourteen :
— Lai de Gugemar, son of Oridial, lord of Leon, in Bretagne ; Lai
d'Equitan, lord of Nantes; Lai du Fresne, containing the history of a
noble lady of Bretagne, an exposed child; Lai de Bisclaveret, a Breton
knight; Lai de Lanval, also a Breton knight; Lai des deux Amants ;
(there is yet, near Rouen, the priory des deux Amants); Lai d'Ywenec,
a Breton knight ; Lai du Laustic, on the adventures of two knights of
Bretagne ; Lai ile Milon, a similar knight; Lai du Chaitivel, the survivor
of four who fought for a lady of Nantz, in Bretagne; Lai du Chevre
Feuille, an episode of the romance on Tristan ; Lai d'Eleduc; Lai de
Graelent; Lai de I'Epine, all on knights of Bretagne. Mr. G. Ellis has
given an analysis of them in his Specimens of early Romances : and the
observations upon them of the last editor of Warton's History, vol. 1,
deserve perusal ; tho he mistakes in saying, p. Ixxxv, that I have ' pro
duced Alfred's apophthegms as the first specimens of English prose.'
What I suggested was, that the additions of his own thoughts, which
Alfred had inserted'in his Boetius, might be considered as the first spe
cimens of moral essays in our country. My opinions on the commence
ment of English prose, will be seen in a subsequent part of this Work.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 291
amusement which even they who deride the fancies chap,
of their forefathers, yet find in pourtraying chime- ^^^-
rical imaginings of their own. Even these will still lays and
regale themselves with creating beings, places and m^ar^eVc!
events that have no reality on earth. They find a ' — ^ — '
gratification to themselves in peopling the obscure
and unseen with habitants that exist only in their
own inventions, "* Imagination, especially in youth,
is eager to attempt to frame something better than
what we see, and to muse on agencies superior to
any that are known to be possessed. It would seem,
that man must cease to feel before he ceases to fancy ;
and that until thought is torpefied by death, he will
still continue to do both. This tendency to be inte
rested by supernatural machinery is not wholly un^
serviceable ; it acts as a check on materializing theo
ries. These divest life of all its sublimity, and of
hope's sweetest paradise, and turn the man into an
instinctive brute. But all fancies of superhuman
beings lift up our eyes to something better than our
selves; they lead us to look beyond our material world
to some invisible and immaterial agency, which com
mands and can control it. They suggest possibilities
which it is delightful to contemplate ; and tho their
landscapes be wild, and the agents fantastic, yet they
keep the mind from believing that our fleshly struc
tures are the real and only beings of the man. All
tales of genii, fairies and apparitions, operate insen
sibly to create within us a sensation of spiritual ex
istence which no abstract reasoning can produce. It
'^Manfred, Frankenstein, the Monk, St. Leon, Goethe's Faustus,
Undina, the Ghost. Seer, and a crowd of German productions, are evi
dences of the secret craving of many, even where no established belief is
favored, for sornethiiig that is not human, but which is superior to man,
and capable of inflicting evil upon him, or of imparting to him some
superior good.
HISTORYOF ENGLAND
292 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK is absurd now to fear that the reality of these dreams
^^- of fancy should be believed — and therefore their im-
LiTERARY pressions cannot injure. Hence all tales of this sort,
•which interest without demoralizing, may be classed
among those amusive gaieties of the sportive fancy,
which increase the intellectual happiness of life : and
as our richest pleasures are now derived from the
mind, it is policy to multiply and to vary, not to
diminish them. Taste fnay lawfully make these fic
tions more tasteful, and reason more reasonable in a
reasonable age ; but neither society nor true philo
sophy would gain any thing by their merciless and
indiscriminate proscription."
" As those supernatural fictions or effusions of the imagination which
prevailed among the nations from whom Enghnnd has derived portions
of its population, and some of which have obtained occasional credence
among us, form a part of the history ofthe mind of the Middle Ages, a
few remarks may be permitted on this curious subject.
The principle of all supernatural imaginations or beliefs seems to be
an indelible and invincible persuasion or supposition, that we are existing
amid powers and agencies superior to those of man.
Wherever this impression is not united and confined to the real Deity
with whom it natturally tends and was intended to link the intellect and
the feeling, the perverted and misled fancy will then devise tbe beings
for itself, whom it bebeves to be about us ; and thus acting, it will attach
itself to supposititious chimeras of its own adoption or creation.
It is in vain for some to say, that what we cannot hear, or see or feel,
cannot really exist ; because we all know this assertion to be a delusive
untruth. We cannot see pestilence, as it moves from house to house,
tho we behold the bodily fi-ame corrupting under its power — we cannot
see thought, altho we hear the sounds to w hich it forms the human voice
y/e cannot see the feelings of love, sorrow, gratitude, joy, anger or re
venge, altho we can contemplate the pantomimic movements of the
limbs or external muscles of the face, which these emotions severally oc
casion. We fully perceive, that there are invisible powers and agents in
nature %vhich put its natural elements into various and often terrible ac
tion ; and therefore no argument, that what they dread is a nullity be
cause unseen, can ever destroy the general persuasion of the reality of
supernatural agency, nor prevent the human fancy from indulging and
accrediting supernatural imaginations of some sort or other. The Atheist
has them as much as others. — We perceive the German unbelievers trem
bling under their fate or destiny, evil eyes or stern necessity; and the
French incredules have analogous subjects of secret apprehension. In
all, it is the common feeling, attaching itself to different objects.
But as every notion on this subject beyond what the Scriptures have
revealed, must be the creatures of human invention, so every fancy of this
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 293
OfMarie's unearthly beings, the predominant fancy CHA p.
is that of affectionate fairy ladies ; and we find them ^^^-
description must resemble and exhibit the opinions and superstitions of
the age and country. The fictions of the mind are but pictures of its
hidden self, and therefore the supernatural machinery of every country
will be peculiar to itself, and differ as much from that of others as their
more common state of mind and manners is usually found to do.
Giants and Dwarfs of more than human power were among the most
ancient and popular superstitions of our country ; and the oldest now
alive may yet remember the nursery tales and books which in their child
hood they heard and believed of those dissimilar monsters. They came
with our Saxon and Danish ancestors into our island. The giants are
mentioued in the Anglo-Saxon poem on Beowulf; and the Latin work on
the conflict between Guy of Warwick and Colbrand the Giant, is noticed
by Hearne as still subsisting. The ancient book of Heroes written by
the knight Wolfran, who flourished about 1207, thus states in its preface
the popular theory on the origin of the giants, dwarfs and heroes, which
prevailed both in Scandinavia and the north of Germany. They are all
referred to the creation of the Deity.
' First, He produced the Dwarfs, because the mountains lay waste
and useless ; and valuable stores of silver and gold, with gems and pearls,
were concealed in them. He made them right wise and crafty. They
knew the use of gems, and that some of them gave strength to the wearer,
and others made him invisible, which were called fog caps. They built
themselves hollow hills. They had kings and lords, and He gave them
great riches.
' He created also the Giants, that they might slay the wild beasts and
serpents; and thus enable the dwarfs to cultivate the mountains in
safety. But after some time the giants became wicked and unfaithful",
and did much harm to the dwarfs. Then He made the Heroes, who were
of a middle rank between the dwarfs and giants, to come to the assistance
ofthe dvfarfs against the unfaithful giants, the beasts and the serpents.
Their mind was ever bent on manhood, battles and fights. Among the
dwarfs were many kings, who had giants for their servants : for they pos
sessed rough countries, waste forests, and mountains near their dwellings.
The Heroes paid all observance and honor to the ladies, protected wi
dows and orphans, did uo harm to women except when their life was in
danger, and often shewed their manhood before them, both in sport and
in earnest. The heroes were all noblemen, and no one was a peasant.
From them are descended all lords and noblemen.' Weber North. Antiq,
p. 42. The last part ofthe Book ofHeroes exhibits the dwarfs and their
subordinate giants in their traditional habits and acrivitv. Ib. p. 146-166.
The Fairies appear to have been a Celtic imaginaiion, and first ap
pear to us in the lays of the British colonists of Bretagne, as we have
already shewn in the poems of Marie, in the preceding pages of this vo
lume. This provmce has still her fairy rock; her fairy grotto, a fairy
valley; a fairy cavity aud a fairy mountain: on this last, a MS. ancient
poem says — In Bretagne we shall find
A fountain and steps.
On which if you throw water,
Il blows; it thunders and it rains.
Roquef". Marie, v. 1. p. 33.
V 3 Our
HISTORYOFENGLAND
294 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,.
BOOK in her lays exhibited in one of these most pleasing
_^3l forms, and named " Fees ; " so that this word is at
literary least as ancient as the year 1200, Our ancestors cer
tainly believed their existence. But it is not necessary
Our British ancestors also cherished this fancy; for Arthur's sister was
the fairy Morgana, whom Jeffry of Monmouth, in his MS. Latin poem, re
presents to have conveyed the dying king from the fatal field of Camlan
to her magic isle of Avallonia. Fairies are also noticed in some of the
earliest lays of the Troubadours, as if they had been an indigenous fancy
of the Provenf al regions. The count de Pestiers mentions them in one
of his pieces : ' The fairies have so appointed it,' He calls them ' Fadaz.'
Poetes Franp ois, v. i. p, 5,
These ladies have also been a prominent part of tbe popular supersti
tions ofthe Irish, and are even acting upon their miud and conduct at the
present day. They also appear in the tales and traditions ofthe Indians
of North America,
There is no sufficient reason to suppose that these fairies originated to
us from the Peris of Persia or Arabia, and to have been transplanted out
of Spain with the Arabian literature. They have an anterior chronology,
and it may be also said, that it is a mistake to suppose that any popular
superstition arises in a country from any literary composition. It origi
nates from the traditions of its earliest population; accompanies their
migrations, and descends with their descent. It is retained because it is
believed, and is only used and talked of for tbe same reason. Much as
we like the Arabian Nights, nothing can engraft its Genii and other ma
chinery on the public faith or mind ; nor can our writers imitate them,
for want of the actual credence. Both Dr. Ilawkesworlh and Dr. Johnson,
and also Dr. Ridley, have made some interesting tales with personages to
whom they have given the name of Genii, but they are not at all the genii
of Arabian story.
The Witches and Wizards ofthe Middle Ages were the legacies left
us by our Roman colonists and conquerors. This classical nation, and
their Grecian preceptors, fully believed and have fully described these dis
agreeable beings. They are among the most revolting offspring of the
imagination, without any of the graces or charms which usually attend the
fictions of the fancy. Theocritus, Lucian, Plutarch and Apuleius so abun
dantly notice and pourtray them, that there is no difficulty in tracing
them to this respectable origin.
The belief in Apparitions has never been absent in our island, from
the ' Scin-lac' of the Anglo-Saxons, to the ghosts and spectres so inte
resting to our childhood, and still not wholly discredited by u large por
tion of our maturer understanding. This offspring of our diseased or agi
tated fancy entered our island with our northern ancestors. It is one of
the most fixed and native traditions of the Scandinavian tribes and their
German descendants. We trace it alike in their tales and histories ; and
it may be seen in peculiar abundance in the latter part ofthe Eyrbiggia
Saga, of which sir Walter Scott has given an able andinteresting abstract,
appended to the ' Illustrations of Northern Antiquities.' — See it from
!'¦ 505 to 509.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 29r>
now to say seriously with Spenser in his pleasing chap.
lines, . , .
' That all their famous antique history.
Of some, th' abundance of an idle brain.
Will judged be and painted forgery.
Rather than matter of just memory:
Sith none that breatheth living air does know
Where is that happy lond of Faery,
Which I so much do vaunt yet no where show :'"
because every one now is satisfied, that " Fairy lond "
exists nowhere but in the records ofthe olden muses,
and there it is yet pleasing to trace its unsubstantial
inhabitants as our forefathers depicted them. No
part of our ancient vernacular literature pourtrays
them so fully or agreeably as Marie ; and her repre
sentations may be contemplated as a part of the po
pular mind of our ancestors, as well as of the Bretons
in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries.
Extracts, shewing the more imaginative parts of
Marie's Lays :
In the first, ' Gugemar,' she describes a white hart and her fawn,
' foun.' The knight drew his bow and wounded her foot ; but his
arrow flew hack on himself from the fairy hart, and piercing his
¦thigh, caused him to fall from his horse. As he lay on the ground.
the moaning hart exclaimed, ' Ai me ! alas ! I am killed ; and
thou, Vassau ! who hast wounded me, this shall be thy destiny !
never shall you have medicine, neither by herb nor root, nor by
mire, nor by potion, shall you be cured of the wound in your
thigh, till one shall suffer for your love as great pain and grief as
any woman has ever yet endured, and you shall feel as much for
her ; so that they who love and have loved shall wonder at it.
Go, and leave me in peace.' '*
By the sea side Gugemar finds a vessel of ivory, with sails of
silk. Nothing alive was in it. The bed was like the work of So-
'° Spenser's Faery Queen, book 2. p. l.
". Marie's Lays, p. 56-8. u 4
290 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK lomon, enriched with gold and precious stones, and made of
VI. cypres and ivory. Its quilt was African gold tissue. Its coverlet
was a sebelin, cut from Alexandrine cloth. Two candelabras of
fine gold, with gems worth a treasure, enlightened the apartment.
It moved of itself over the sea.°°
Her Bisclaveret.
Formerly many men became garwalls, and had their houses
in woods. A garwall is a savage beast ; his rage is so great that
he devours men, does great mischief, and lives in vast forests.
The Bretons call them ' Bisclaveret.' ^'
A ' ber' (a baron) and beau chevalier had married an amiable
woman. He lo\ed her, and she him ; but every week she lost him
for three entire days, and never knew where he went. She urged
him to tell her why he was thus absent, and he at last confessed,
' Lady, I become a bisclaveret, and go into yonder great forest,
into the thickest of its woods, and live on prey and roots. I go
quite naked.' She asked him where he put his clothes ? ' Lady,
I will not tell you this, because, if I should lose them, or be
seen, I should remain always a bisclaveret.' She importuned him ;
and he then added, that in an old chapel in the forest, in the
hollow of a great stone, under a bush, he placed his apparel
until he resumed it to return home.
Abhorring such a husband, she revealed his secret to a young
chevalier, who went and seized the garments. The bisclaveret
returned to her no more, and she married the chevalier.
A year afterwards, the king hunted in the forest where the bis
claveret dwelt ; the dogs discovered and chased him, with all the
company. He became much torn and wounded, and was nearly
taken, when he ran to the king, and holding his stirrup, and kiss
ing his leg and foot, implored his mercy. The king exclaimed,
' See, mj' lords ! this wonder ; how this beast humbles himself; he
has the sense of a man ; he cries for mercy ; drive the dogs be
hind ; take care that no one hurts him ; the brute has under
standing ; my peace shall remain with him, and I will hunt him
here no more.'
The king turned back, and the bisclaveret followed him and
would not leave him. The king became attached to him, and kept
'^ Marie's Lays, p. 60-2.
°' Ib. p. 178. The French story of Mons. Oufle is built on the idea,
that he fancied himself to be a loup-garouz, or man-wolf. The garwall
of Mary is the loup-garouz of the more modern French, '
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 297
him in his palace. He was all day among the knights, and lay q h AP.
down in the evening near the king. He was so frank and debo- vil.
nair, and so careful to hurt no one, that every body loved him.
The king some time afterwards held his court, and summoned
all his barons to it ; his wife and her new husband came among
them. As soon as the bisclaveret saw this knight, he flew upon
him, and seized him with his teeth, till the king threatened him
with his rod. Twice he again tried to bite his enemy. All won
dered at this pecuhar conduct ; it was thought that he had lost
his reason. When the feast ended, every one departed home.
Some time after, the king went to himt in the forest where he
was found ; the bisclaveret accompanied him. The wife besought
an audience of the king, and came richly dressed ; the animal
flew upon her, and tore off her nose. All were then going to cut
him in pieces, when ' un sages hom,' a wise man, remarked to the
king, that as the creature injured no one else, he must have some
cause of complaint against the knight and lady, and counselled
that she should be imprisoned till she discovered why the beast
hated her. This was done ; she confessed her conduct, and that
he might be her husband.
The king had the clothes brought that had been taken, and
gave them to the bisclaveret, who took no notice of them. The
prudent man suggested that he would not put them on in public,
and advised that he should be left alone in his own room, with the
garments. This was done, and the king sometime afterwards
entering his apartment, saw a baron sleeping in his bed.'-
Her Lanval is founded on a fairy lady.
When Arthur distributed his gifts to his counts and barons,
and to those ' de la table raunde,' he gave none to the chevalier
Lanval, the son of a distant king, who was serving him.
Lanval, mortified to be so overlooked, resolved to quit the
couit, and mounting his steed left the city, Carduel, and travelled
till he reached a meadow, thro which a stream was flowing.
As he felt his horse tremble he dismounted, and letting the
animal feed at its pleasure, he folded his mantle, reclined his
head upon it, and lay in pensive meditation. Looking towards
the river, he saw two damsels coming from it, more beautiful
than were ever seen before, and richly clothed in purple. The
eldest carried a basin of enamelled gold finely made, and the
other a napkin. '^ Marie's Lays, 178-200.
literary
historyof ENGLAND.
298 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK They advanced to him as he lay, and he, who had been well
VI. taught, rose immediately on his feet. They saluted him; and one
said, ' Sire, Lanval ! my lady, who is very courteous and beauti
ful, sends us for you; come with us — we will conduct you safely.
See, there are her pavilions.' — He went. T'he queen Semiramis,
orthe emperorOctavian, never hada more splendid tent. Agolden
eagle of inexpressible value was on its top. No king on earth could
have one so costly. Within this reposed the lady, surpassing in
beauty both the lily and the new blown rose. She was reclining
on a bed so handsome, that its cloth ivas worth a castle. Her
mantle was of white ermine, covered with Alexandrine purple ;
and as the heat caused some part to be uncovered, a neck and
face were seen whiter than the Maythorn flowers.
She called him ; he sat down. She told him, that for his sake
she had left her country ; that she loved him, and if he would be
preux and courteous, no emperor, queen or king, was so happy as
he should be. He answered her with sympathetic feeling. She
promised him wealth so abundant, that the more 'he gave, the
more he would have. They married ; but she annexed one con
dition to his felicity : ' Tell no one of me, or you will immediately
lose me ; if our love is made known, you will never see me again.'
He vowed silence and fidelity. She added, ' Now rise and go
away, you cannot remain longer here ; but when you wish to
speak with me, let it be where a person may meet his beloved
without reproach or villany, and I will come, but no one except
you will see or hear me.' The damsels brought him the richest
dress ; he washed his hands, sat down to a repast, and was then
led to his horse, on which he returned to the city. He was con
tinually looking back, unable to understand his own adventure.
He entered his hotel, and kept a liberal hospitality, without
knowing whence his resources came ; he treated richly every
knight who came ; released prisoners ; clothed the jongleurs, and
gave presents to every one.
Unfortunately, the queen of Arthur became attached to him.
Her vilifying reproaches roused him to declare, that he loved and
was loved, and that any one of those who served his lady excelled
her in heart, face, beauty, understanding and goodness. The
queen accused him falsely to Arthur, who ordered him to be burnt
if he did not justify himself.
When alone in his apartment, he called his fair one, but she
came not to him ; he had violated the condition in talking of her,
and he saw her no more. The king put him on judgment before
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 299
his barons ; and one of them proposed, that to vindicate himself, CHAP.
Lanval should produce before them the lady he had boasted of; VII.
he told them that this was not in his power.
As the barons were about to pronoimce judgment, two damsels
on white horses, in robes of silk, of a vermilion colour, appeared,
and asked the king for canvass and materials to encurtain a cham
ber, where their lady might be lodged : two others, still hand
somer, came mounted on Spanish mules. Soon afterwards ap
peared a lady, wonderfully beautiful and superbly dressed, on a
little palfrey, with splendid housings ; she had a falcon on her
wrist, and a greyhound followed her. Lanval raised his head, and
saw that it was his beloved. She advanced to Arthur : ' King !
I have loved your vassal ; the queen was wrong : if my presence
is to acquit him, let your barons release him.' Lanval was pro
nounced innocent, and the fairy lady led him to Avalon, that
delightful island, where they lived happy."
Another of her tales exhibits a Transformation.
The young wife of an ancient lord was shut up by his fears in
a tower. One day she saw at her window the shadow of a great
bird. It flew into her room, placed itself by her, and soon became
a handsome and genteel knight, and solicited her affection. She
asked him, if he believed in God : he said, he did believe in
his Creator, ' who is, and was, and will be, the life and light of
sinners.' He added, that if she would order her chaplain to per
form the divine service, he would take her form, and receive the
eucharist. He did so. He then bade her conceal their acquaint
ance, as he must die if she discovered it. An old attendant, by
hiding herself, saw him enter and depart as a bird. The husband
was informed of it, and had placed at the window some steel
blades, as sharp as a razor, which pierced him when he next came
to it. Covered with blood, he flew away. She escaped from the
tower ; traced him by his blood to a cottage — to a meadow — to
a city — and to a castle, where she found him dying on a bed, of
which the drapery and surrounding chandeliers were worth all the
gold of a kingdom. His son was to avenge him. The husband
and some friends travelling afterwards to a distant city, came to
a rich abbey, in the chapter-hall of which they saw a large tomb,
covered with rich gold, embroidered tapestry, and surrounded
with twenty wax tapers, burning in golden chandeliers, amid in-
'" Marie's Lays, 202-250.
300 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK cense of amethyst. They inquired whose it was, and were an-
VI. swered, ' The best and noblest, and most beloved knight that ever
lived ; he was the king of this country ; no one was so courteous ;
he was slain for a lady's love, and since he died we have had no
ENGLAND, lord.' The wife exclaimed to the son, ' It is your father who lies
there ; this old man killed him.' She gave him the king's sword,
and fell dead. The youth then beheaded her ancient spouse.^''
LITERARY
HISTORYOF
Her Graelent again displays a fairy lady.
The \?iy of Graelent is founded on the incident ofhis seeing a
fairy lady bathing near a fountain in a forest. She promises to
love him truly. ' But one thing I forbid you — you must not say
a word by which our attachment can be discovered. I will then
give you most richly money, clothes and silver, and night and day
I will be with you : tho you should see me go away, yet you may
laugh and talk with me. You shall have no companion that can
see me, nor know who I am. Graelent ! You are loyal, preux,
courteous and handsome ; for you I came to the fountain ; for
you I have suffered many a pain. Take care that you boast not
of it, or you will lose me. You must remain a year near this
country, but you may be errant for two months ; then repair hi
ther, for I love this country. Now depart. Nones have struck.
I will send my messenger to you.'
He returned to his hotel, and looking out of his window at the
forest, now so dear to him, he saw a varlet leading an ambling pal
frey to him.— none was so beautiful, so swift, or so gentle. ' I am
the messenger of your friend ; she wills me to be with you ; I will
pay your debts and take care of your household.' The varlet then
opened his trunk, and took out a spacious coat, ' coute,' rich stuffs
and ornaments, which he spread on the bed, and plenty of gold
and silver, and rich apparel. Graelent, thus provided, rewarded
all who had been kind to him, and ordered his host to keep his
house full of good provision, and to invite the poorer knights of
the city who wished to live with him. His host did so, and went
in search of the poor knights, prisoners, pilgrims and crusaders,
brought them to the hotel, and took care to honor them. All
night, instruments of music were played, and other delights fol
lowed. In the day he was richly apparelled. He gave grrat gifts
to harpers, to prisoners, and to players. There was not a burgess
of the city to whom he did not lend money, or who did not do him
-' Marie's Lays, 272-313.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 30i
as much honor as they performed to their lord. His beloved was C II A P.
often with him. There was not a tournament in the country in VII.
which he did not distinguish himself — the knights greatly loved ¦
™" FABLES Of
The king had the habit, on his festive days, of shewing his marie,&c.
queen to his barons, and asking them if the earth contained a finer ' ¦' '
woman, Graelent never acquiesced in their preferring eulogies.
This roused his displeasure, and Graelent was at last excited to
tell the king, who inquired if he knew her superior. ' Yes, one
worth thirtj' of her.'
The enraged queen insisted on his producing her competitor.
A year was allowed him — but he had broke the spell ; she visited
him no more. The year expired : the king accused him of insult
ing his wife by a falsehood. The appointed judges were about
to condemn him, when two beautiful damsels in laced dresses ap
peared, and dismounting from their palfreys, told the king that
their lady would come and release the knight ; two others, more
handsome, followed, and then the Fairy lady was seen. Her man
ner was grand, her countenance mild, her eyes sweet, her face
lovely, her movement charming. She was magnificently clothed
in purple embroidered with gold — her mantle was worth a castle,
and her steed, with its trappings, at least a thousand pounds — all
pressed forward to behold her, and every one praised her.
She came on horseback before the king, and then dismounted
and addressed him. She blamed Graelent for what he had said,
but appealed to the king himself, whether she was more beautiful
than his queen. This could not be denied. Graelent was released ;
and when she urged her palfrey through the city, he eagerly fol
lowed her, imploring her mercy ; but she answered not a word.
They at length reached the forest, where the river was flowing in
a pure and lucid stream. She sprung into it. Graelent was about
to follow, when she exclaimed — ' Fly — enter not— if you attempt
it, you will be drowned.' He regards her not, and plunges in. She
catches his bridle, and leads him to the bank — again cautions hirn
not to follow her, and disappears under the water. He persists in
going into the river. The waves began to overpower him, when
the maidens ofthe lady entreated her to pity and to forgive hira.
She relented, and drew him out ; had his wet garments taken off,
covered him with her mantle, and then conducted him to her own
country, where the Bretons say he is living still. The fairy horse,
missing his master, withdrew to the forest, and was never at peace
again. He was always striking the earth, furiously neighing, and
literaryhistoryofENGLAND.
302 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK allowed no one to take liim. The report was, that every year
VI, at that season he was seen at the river-side seeking his master,
neighing and calling for him.^
The FABLES of Mary claim an Englishman's at
tention, from the fact, mentioned only by her, that
one of our kings, named Henry, translated those of
.^sop from Latin into English, which she afterwards
rhymed into her Norman French. This must have
been our Henry I. or else Henry II ; but the proba
bility seems to be, that it was Henry I ; both of whose
queens were attached to letters, and who was himself
distinguished by the title of ' Beau Clerc' Mary's
general style is an easy, concise, natural and intel
ligent narration.''® She has annexed a ' moralite' to
each ; and some of these do credit to her good sense
and moral taste, and furnish many particulars of the
manners of her day.
It gives us rather a painful view of society to read
after the hares and the frogs —
They ought to think of this.
Who wish to move away
And abandon their ancient place,
What will come afterwards to them.
They will never find a country
Nor reach a land
That they can be in without fear.
Or without labor, or without grief."
Toil and sorrow almost all must expect to share ;
but that no place could be lived in without alarm, is
a strong picture of a lawless and disorderly period.
But how could it be otherwise, since the foUowino-
'* Marie's Lays, 486-540.
=8 Some of these Le Grand has amusingly translated in his Fa-
bleaux, v. 4.
" Roquefort's Marie, v. 2, p. 161.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES, 30.1
moralit6 was no doubt taken from her experience, chap.
when she added it to the two wolves and the lamb : ^^
These are the rich robbers — lays and
The sheriffs and the judges, fables of
On those whom they have ^ ' ,'
In their judicial territory.
From covetousness, a false occasion.
They find sufficient to confound them.
And compel them into their courts ;
There they score their flesh and their skin.
As the wolves did to the lamb,^'
To the fable of the dog suing a sheep, she adds ;
This example shews you,
What many men prove.
Who by lying and by tricking (trichin)
Frequently implead the poor.
And adducing false witnesses,
Force the poor to pay them.
They care not what befalls the unhappy,
So that they share the profit.''
The oppression of the rest of society by the great,
is also implied in many other moral ites. We will
only add another, on the wolf and the crane :
So it is with a bad lord,
If a poor man works him honor.
And then asks his reward.
He will never receive any ;
Altho in his administration
The great ought to thank him for his life.'"
The following is a specimen of her more serious
moralit6s. The wise man ought rationally
To beseech the Omnipotent God,
That He would do his own pleasure :
=» Roquefort's Marie, v. 2. p. 67. "^ lb. p. 77-
™ Ib. p. 85. If ' Le Couronnement de Renart' be Marie's, it may be
seen in M. Meon's edition of it, Paris, 1816.
304 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK From this great good may come :
\'I. For God better knows what will suit us,
Than hearts which change and move."
" Roquefort's Marie, V. 2. p. 393. HerPurgatory of St. Patrick, p.411,
has been pleasingly abridged by Le Grand, v. 5, p. 126.
A supposition as to the possible Authoress : —
In our total ignorance about this Mary, there is no harm in starting a
new conjectural possibility, which suits the intimations which she has
given of herself in her poems. But I propose this merely as a suggestion,
not lo be pressed as an historical certainty, nor to be confounded with it.
Conjectures are not facts, and I would wish not to mislead the reader on
any subject.
Eleanor, the queen of our Henry II. had by her first husband, Louis VII.
of France, a daughter named Marie, who was married to the count of
Champagne. Gesta Lud. 150. Aim. 525. She thereby became countess
of Champagne during the reigns of our Henry II. and Richard I. Her
husband was a great patron of poets and romance writers. He invited
them to his court, and liberally rewarded them. Her mother, queen
Eleanor was also a great favorer ofthe Troubadours; and Marie herself
was so much attached to their ' gai licence' as to hold cours d'amour,
and to give judgment on the questions there submitted to her by knights
and Troubadours. One of these is dated 1 1 74. See the Chapter on the
Troubadours, in our fifth volume of this History. She survived her hus
band, and died in March 1 197. Rigordus, 198. Thus our king Henry II.
was ber father-in-law, and his sons, Henry, Richard, and Geoffry, were
her brothers by her mother's side. Of these, Henry was crowned king
of England by his father in his own lifetime ; so that England had then
at the same time two king Henrys, in the persons of Henry II. and his
eldest son. Her brother Geoffry was made count of Bretagne, and died
in her lifetime. She attended his burial, and was in the French court at
Compeign in II96, when the count of Flanders did homage to Philip for
his dominions, (Reg- 197.) where she died in the next year. She was
sister to botb Philip the reigning king of France, and to Richard the
reigning king of England, — to Philip by her father, and to Richard by her
mother. She stood therefore in the singular position of being equally
related to both countries and connected with the most distinguished per
sons in both, and therefore probably familiar with the language of each.
Queen Eleanor survived her daughter, for in 1 199 she did homage to
Philip for Poitou. Reg. 200.
Now, in applying these facts to Marie the poetess, we find that what
this lady mentions of herself, may be comprised in the following circum
stances. In the conclusion of her fables she says, —
I will name myself for remembrance:
I am named Marie. I am of France.
For the love ofthe count William,
The most valiant of this kingdom,
I have undertaken to make this book.
And to translate it from English into Roman. They
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 303
Besides the two descriptions of the Anglo-Norman C H a p.
poetry already noticed, the history and the romance, ^"•
ANGLO-NORMANVERNA CULAR POETRY.
They call this book Esop's,
Who worked and wrote it.
From Greek into Latin it was turned.
He, king Henry, who greatly liked it,
Translated it then into English, Lives of
And I have rhymed it in Francez. Saints in
Roq. Marie, v, 2. p. 401. verse.
In the prologue to her Fables, she mentions a king without naming him.
In honor of you, noble king.
Who are so pruz and courteous,
To whom every joy inclines.
And in whom all that is good has root,
I have applied myself to collect the lays.
To put them into rhyme and recount them.
In my heart I think and say.
Sire ! that I would present them to you.
Ifit will please you to receive them.
You will cause me to have great joy ;
Every day I shall be bound to you for it.
Accuse me not of presumption.
If I dare to make you this present.
But hear the beginning.
The usual idea, but entirely a supposition, is, tbat this king was
Henry III. and that count William was Long Sword, earl of Salisbury.
But if this Marie was the countess of Champagne, then the king whom
she thus addresses would he her brolherking Henry, at that time reigning
with his father, or her brother Richard I. ; tho it might also be their
parent Henry II. But the affectionate terms she uses, would suit better
one of her brothers.
That ber stories are all Breton lays, would suit the countess Marie,
because Geoffray her brother was the reigning count of Bretagne while
he lived.
The peculiarity required by the intimations she gives of herself, that
she was well acquainted with both the French and English languages,
corresponds exactly with the social position ofthe countess, as we have
already remarked,
Tbat the count William should be tbe earl of Salisbury, will also coin
cide with our theory ; for he was the illegitimate son of her mother's
husband, and therefore by him, was the natural brother of her maternal
brothers, Richard, Henry, and Geoffray. As such, he must have been as
well known to her as they were ; and from his high character and quali
ties, may have been greatly liked by her. If the count of Flanders was
the William she alludes to, the countess Marie was both allied to this
nobleman and acquainted with him. If it should be thought unlikely
that such a countess should write poetry, we may recollect that she her
self describes an English king, Henry, having translated into English
what she turned into French, What a king had done, a literary princess
Vol, IV. X
300 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK the clergy also wrote in verse the Lives of Saints, and
^^" moral treatises.^'* Their rimed biography, however,
added nothing to the national poetry, altho one of
them, Denis Piramus, in the reign of Henry IIL,
really added, tho unheeded, to the national history,'^
In their moral treatises in verse, a greater approach to
poetry was exhibited. The poem of bishop Grosteste
was at least an allegory, with some effort at descrip
tion ; ^ and the stories introduced by Wadigton, in
might do. Her brother Richard wrote Provenyal poems ; aud in a later
age a French princess, Margaret de Valois, composed a volume of French
tales. Her rank will account for the high estimation in which Denis
Pyraraus described her works to have been held ainong the ladies of
quality in the reign of Henry III.
Hence the supposition that Marie, the authoress ofthe Lais and Fables,
was Marie the countess of Champagne, seems to have a stronger founda
tion than any other which has been suggested.
^ As Guerne's Life of Thomas h Becket. It contains about 6coo
lines, in stanzas of five lines of the Alexandrine cast, riming together,
which he thus describes —
Le vers est dune rime en cine clauses cuplez
E bons est mes laugages e en france fui nez.
MS. Hari. 270.
Chardre's S> Josaphat and the Seven Sleepers, comprises between four
and five thoiisand lines. He mentions the preference given to the romans
of fiction — Ke plus-tost orriuin chanter
de Roulant e de Olivier
e les batailles des duze peres, MS. Cott, Calig. A 9.
See M. de la Rue's Dissertation^ Archaeologia, vol. 13, p. 234. We see
how anxiously these rimers sought for reputation, in Chermans, who
wrote La Genesis de S' Marie. He takes care to s.iy —
Jeo ay a noum Chermans ne ubliez mye mon noun.
" MS. Hari. N" 270,
^ His work is called the Life of S' Edmund. It is, in fact, a rimed
excursive history of East Anglia. But it is remarkable for giving a truer
account of Ragnar Lodbrog, the Danish sea-king, than any ofthe Saxon
chroniclers furnish. It makes him, as he was, a powerful and cruel pi
rate, renowned for his exploits on many a shore ; and declares Inguar,
Hubba, and Biorn to have been his children. — MS. Cott. Domit. A 11.
As this is almost the only ancient document we have that approaches
the true history of these incidents, I have cited the passage at length in
the 4tb edition ofthe Anglo-Saxons.
=• It is in the Hari. MS. N° 1121. After treating of Paradise and
the fall of man, it begins a strange allegory, with the account of a king,
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES, 307
his Manuel des Peches,'"' are occasionally told with chap.
traits that shew a few of the first faint gleams of ^'^'^¦
poetical feeling. There are some other poems of the anglo-
Anglo-Normans not unworthy the notice of the an
tiquary,^" One of the most curious of these, for its
subject, is the Institutes of Justinian in verse, already
alluded to.''
The character ofthe Anglo-Norman poetry, from
its happy consequences to our taste and intellect,
merits a distinct contemplation.
The verbal style of the Anglo-Saxon poetry was Style of
the arrangement of their words into short lines, with a saton"^'°'
who had a son and four daughters : the son was our Saviour; the
daughters were Mercy, Truth, Justice, and Peace. The son enters
a castle 'bel et grant;' and the poet occupies two long columns in de
scribing it. This castle was the Virgin Mary ! See extracts from it in
M. La Rue's Essay in the Archaeologia.
^ This very curious work is in the British Museum, among the Har
leian MSS. N° 4657 & 377. He thus names himself^
De dei seit beneit chescun hom
Ky prie pour Wilham de Wadigton.
^ In the MS. containing Chardre's work, is a dialogue between youth
and age-, intitled, Le Petit Plet, containing about 1800 rimed lines. —
The anonymous continuation of the Brut of Wace, contains the remark
able fancy ofthe council held by the conqueror to determine the disposi
tions of his three sons. See La Rue's Dissert. 13. p. 242. — Among the
Harleian MSS. is the poem called ' Le Sermun de Guichart de Beau
lieu;' — and another poem, of moral precepts, by Helis de Quincestre
(Winchester), which he says he takes from Cato —
Ki vult saveir la faitement
Ke Katun a sun fiz pi-ent
Sen Latin nel set entendre
Ci le pot en romanz aprendre. — MS.
In the king's library at Paris, there is a translation of Dares Phrygius
into French rimes, by Godfrey ofWaterford, an Irishman of the jacobine
order, in the thirteenth century. — Warton, I, p. xxiii,from Mem. Lit. 17.
P- 736.
The reader who wishes to enlarge his knowlege of the history of an
cient romance, will be gratified by Mr. Weber's ' Illustrations of Nor
thern Antiquities, from the earlier Teutonic and Scandinavian Romances ;'
and by the elaborate accumulation of curious circumstances in the last
editor's preface to Warton, which, however, are rather materials for
thpught than the establishing of any certain system.
" The author of this was Richard D'Annebaut, an Anglo-Norman,
Archaeol. v. 13.
poetry.
HISTORYOF ENGLAND.
defects.
300 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK sim-ple cadence without rime, and with some allitera-
^ tion. Omissions of their particles, and forced inver-
LiTEHARY sions, were also used. This form was not a very
valuable style of poetical diction, except that it was,
perhaps, the parent of our Miltonic blank verse : but
it was at least harmless. This epitliet, however, can
not be justly applied to the mental character of their
poetry ; that was of a vicious cast. It consisted,
wherever it departed from prose, of abrupt transitions,
ambitious metaphors, and repeated periphrasis.
Its great; From these peculiarities arose a barbarous species
of poetry, which it "was impossible even for genius to
improve. The inversions and transitions occasioned
perpetual obscurity, and, in conjunction with their
violent metaphors, precluded the presence of nature
or elegance, feeling or beauty. The metaphor and the
periphrasis could be exalted only into extravagancies
and absurdity. The more their genius labored to
excel in this savage dress, it became but the more
fantastic ; in striving to be original, it could only
commit more daring outrages on language and com
mon sense. This effect appears in the poems of the
Northern scalds, who continued the Saxon style after
tlie Anglo-Saxons had abandoned it ; and it must be
obvious to every one, that when poets had to struggle
with each other to express objects so common and so
-hacknied, as ships and heroes, kings and swords, by
new n^taphors or periphrasis, the more active their
fancy, the more unnatural must have been its crea
tions. In this strange competition, ships were not only
called — the keels that ride the surge, the ploughers
of the ocean, the chariots of the waves, and the float
ing pines — wliich are strong, yet perhaps allowable
phrases ; but by these poets they are also styled — the
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 30i>
wooden coursers of Gestils, the sky-blue doves, the chap,
snorting steeds adorned with ruddy gold, the mon- ^^^-
sters of the deep^* — -which are in the worst taste of
uncultivated imagination. To call the sword ia blue
serpent, and arrows the southern flies boiling up froni
the caverns ofthe quivers,'" are extravagancies of ab
surdity which may indeed be paralleled in the modern
Persian*" literature, but which European taste has
long learnt to disavow.
The Norman conquest, which introduced not only Itsdecline.
a new sovereign, but also a new race of landed prO'
prietors, into England, of foreign language and with
foreign manners, abolished this bloated style. The
Anglo-Saxon harpers were unintelligible to the Nor
man barons," and were therefore banished from
the halls of the great, and the court of the prince ;
and with them their Anglo-Saxon poetry disappeared.
How fortunate an event this was to the real improve
ment of the English mind, willbe felt by all who
take the trouble to study the specimens of the loftier
species of the Anglo-Saxon poetry, which we have in
Beowulf, aud the usual poems ofthe Northern scalds.
Such is the obscurity and peculiarity of the poem of
^ See the Hrafns Malom, or Raven's Ode, of Sturia, on Hacon's ex
peditions against Scotland, published with a Translation by the Rev.
J. Johnstone, 1782. — In other Northern poems, ships are called a crane,
a serpent, the ravens of the harbour, the wooden oxen, the oxen of th?
bays; and wounding another is expressed as sprinkling the tongue ofthe
wolves. So shields are termed, the clouds of battle ; gold, the earth of thp
serpent; and the sea, the belt ofthe Islands, See Snorre's Heimskringla.
™ Our Ethelred, in his De Bello Standards, has this violent metaphor,
1 Decem Script, p. 345.
*" Einaut Ollah, in his Tales, has carried this style of poetry to that
happy excess which ensures its own depreciation.
¦" Ingulf says, that the Normans so abhorred the Enghsh speech, that
even their grammar was taught to the boys in the schools Galhce, not
Anglice. p. 71. X 3
310
HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK VI.
The
simpler
characteroftheAnglo- Norman-
poetry.
Beowulf, that no industry would now suffice to make
it completely intelligible.
The intercourse between Normandy and Denmark
diminished, as the power of the French monarchy
became attenuated among its feudal lords. The Nor
mans, enjoying their national independence secure
from foreign insult, had no occasion for further aids
of their rude kinsmen in the North. Hence their
domestic connexions with Scandinavia had so com
pletely ceased in the eleventh century, that their lan
guage retained scarcely a vestige of their northern
origin. Of course the poetry of the scalds became
unfashionable and unpopular in Normandy, when it
was no longer intelligible. It would need as much
translation as the Anglo-Saxon; and it had no attrac
tions, when translated, that could be put into com
petition with the minstrels of Provence or Bretagne.
These minstrels came with one quality that had
an irresistible effect on a people beginning its mental
cultivation ; and this was, their easy intelligibility.
No poetry could be more humble in its kind, than
the popular lays of the minstrel, and the larger effu
sions of his clerical rivals, as far as we can judge
from their few remains and abundant imitators. As
compositions, their chief merit was that plain sim
plicity, which, to the low state of the common intel
lect of society in their days, was found the most
popular. As poetry, it had but one characteristic,
which may be expressed in one word — rime. Rime
was the great distinction between the prose and
poetry ofthe vernacular language of Normandy, in
the twelfth century ; and for a considerable interval,
it had nothing else to boast of The use of this pecu-
NORMANVERNACULARPOETRY.
DUELING THE MIDDLE AGES. 311
liarity by the Anglo-Normans, unquestionably arose chap
from its prevalence in the poetry of their neighbours, _"
the Franks, the Bretons, and the Provencals."'' anglo
The obligations which we are under to these Nor
man Trouveurs for their style, and therefore the be
neficial improvements which they introduced in both
the thought and feeling of our countrymen, as well as
into the modes and power of expressing them, have
not been suflticiently appreciated. We are too familiar
now with language to think of the original difficul
ties of primeval composition, altho no attainment of
human science is more honorable to rnankind, or
must have every where been more arduous and won
derful than the formation of an exact, copious, ex
pressive, forcible and harmonious language, and the
precise and flexible connexion of it with the instan
taneous, multifarious, and ever-varying emotions and
perceptions of the human soul. For the most part,
it has been the gradual and imperceptible production
of the mind under its successive wants, impulses and
experience."' But men in all ages and countries
•" The Troubadours contributed somewhat to the sudden rise of the
Anglo-Norman poetry; for two of its earhest versifiers, Sanson and
Wace, mention two of their favorite compositions, the Tendon and the
Serventeis : Thus Sanson — •
Ki eue lait corre e purer
Chef de tencons leoi noraer
Cil ki sa lange ne refreine
Lait eue aler de boche pleine
E ki sa boche ne refreine
De tencons est chief e fontaine. MS. Hari. N° 4388.
And Wace — Mais ore puis jeo leinges penser
Livres escrire e translater
Faire rumanz e serventeis
Tant truveiai tant seit curteis, MS, Bib. Reg. 4- C 11.
*^ M. Auguis has well described some part of this process in the for
mation ofthe French tongue from that ofthe Norman Trouveui-s. ' Notre
X 4
312 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK have arisen, who have both purposed and success-
'_ fully exerted themselves to add new improvements,
new words, new phrases, new softness, new melody,
new varieties, new abbreviations, newsynonimes, new
compounds, new metaphors, new applications, new
discriminations, and new arrangements of diction.
We see this manifestly in the artificial Sanscrit. We
feel it in the Greek ; and we have it acknowleged
by Cicero ; and we can trace it ourselves in the
classical Latin. The process is still more visible in
the French and English. The Anglo-Norman Trou
veurs first improved their own language, which has
become that of modern France ; and the English
mind taught by them so to think and speak in their
Roman French, rapidly introduced into our Anglo-
Saxon English all their cultivation, flowers and fruits,
as soon as it turned its genius and literary labors to
that language, which has now become our vernacular
speech, and may yet diff"use itself to be the prevail
ing language of the largest part of the world. This
triumph will depend upon the continued and supe
rior excellence of our future thinkers and writers.
That language which combines in its compositions
the greatest quantity of verbal beauties, of intellec--
langue, qui commenca k naitre environ vers le dixifeme sifecle, et qui a
change tant de fois jusqu'^ Louis XIV. n'a pas moins varie dans la pro-
nonciation et dans I'orthographe que dans les Elements qui la compo-
sent; et k mesure que la nation s'est poli^, et que la society s'est per-
fectionn^e, on a cherche a adoucir les sons apres et rudes qui etoient si
multiplies dans la lapgne de nos peres, et que les harbares du Nord
avoient apport^s avec eux. L'euphouie insensiblement rendit les mots
plus harmunieux et plus doux, le nombredes consonnes qui se heurtoient
diminua : I'organe glissa plus mollement sur des prononciations qui le
fatiguoient. On supprima des lettres a I'oreille : on adoucit surtout
I'aspciite des finales: quelquefois on introduisil des e muets pour servir
comme de repos entre des syllabes (lures; mais la langue ^crite qui
devoit suivre du mSme pas la langue parlee, resta encore longtemps en
nrrifere. Les Poetes Frau. jusqu'a Malherbe, Disc. Prcl. 7.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 313
tual wealth, of elegant taste, of pure ethics, and the chap.
best sympathies and emotions of the heart, is the ^•
most likely to become the most studied, the most
universal, and the most permanent tongue. Every
English author should therefore strive to continue
and increase the charms of his native diction, and
to connect it with the noblest and most interesting
pursuits and effusions of the cultivated, moralized
and sanctified spirit.
Personal fame, useful patriotism, and the sub-
limest philanthropy will be sweetly blended in the
felicitating employment. Base subjects, trifling little
nesses, unprofitable rubbish, and mischievous extra
vagancies, will then no longer degrade the British
press; nor withhold it from the sovereignty to which
it is fully qualified to aspire, and which every mis
leading author contributes to prevent.
Mankind will never, in the free action of their will,
extensively or continuously patronise the evil, or the
inferior, in any department of hu man action or inquiry.
We may consider six languages as having preten
sions, and some of them as actually contending to
become the habitual speech of our Norman ances
tors; and through them, of all France. They carried
with them their Norwegian tongue from their rough
northern ocean; they settled themselves close by the
ancient British in Bretagne, divided only by hedges
and rivers ; they found in France, in which they at
first prowled for booty, and with which they always
maintained a favorite intercourse, three languages,
that had been struggling for predominance ; the
ancient German of the Franks,"* the Provencal of the
"* The remains of their Franco-Theotric language have been collected
HISTORYOF ENGLAND.
314 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK southern provinces,"^ and the more latinized Romane*^
^^- of the interior and northward districts ; and they be-
LiTEUARY came the chief proprietors of land in an Anglo-Saxon
population. With all these languages to choose from, they
dropped, by a process untraceable now, their native
Norwegian. They avoided the Franco-Theotisc, the
Breton and the Provencal ; and before they invaded
England, had naturalized indelibly among them that
Romane tongue, which, in its old form, has survived
to us in the Anglo-Norman remains,"'^ and in its
newest form constitutes the modern French. It has
been regretted by one of the latest writers on the
ancient poets of France, that instead of this the Pro
vencal did not become the national language."* He
thinks it would have given to it, by its full, sweet, and
by Schelter, in bis Thesaurus. Its grammar is in Hickes Ant. Sept. Its
most ancient monument is tbe oath of Louis the German, transmitted to
us by Nithardus.
¦" M. Raynouard's Choix des Poesies des Troubadeurs, contains some
of the specimens of their language and poetry. Auguis, in his Poetes
Francois before Malherbe, begins with some of the Provenyal writers,
but consists chiefly of the Trouveres, and their successors, the oldest
French poets.
' ¦'^ The Anglo-Norman poems are specimens of this, and their authors
frequently call their language the romanz. Thus Gaimar :
' II purchasar mainte esamplaire
Liveres engleis e par grammaire
E en romanz e eu latin.' MS. Bib. Reg. 13. A 21.
*' Altho all France now uses the language of their Trouveres, as its na
tional tongue, yet England has the credit of exhibiting the earhest speci
men of it in the laws of William the Conqueror, which our Ingulf has
preserved. Its most ancient work, in verse, is thought to be tbe trans
lation ofthe Latin poem of Marbodius on the precious stones, written
about 1123. Aug. xviii.
¦" The two languages have been called, from their words for ' yes,'
Langue d'oc, and Langue d'oil. 'On nomine encore le Proveufal,
Langue d'oc, et le Wallon langue d'oil. Aprfes trois sifecles d'existence;
la langue des Troubadeurs s'eteignit par une nouvelle corruption, et
parce qu'elle ne fit aucun progres. Le Roman W^allon, que les Trouveres
employoient se conserva se perfectionna, peu a pen ; et c'est de ce dialecfe
qu'cst venu le Franfois.' Anguis Disc. Prel. from Sism, v. 1. p. 259. ¦
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES, 31.5
sounding terminations, a finer idiom than any other,"* chap.
But no nation can choose its diction from the taste ^^^-
of its literati. The uncultivated population of every anglo-
country attach to it the language they use and prefer, verna-''
long before poets compose, philosophers reason, or cular
taste decides. These may engraft or prune, but > — ^,-l-'
cannot eradicate one speech to plant another ; and
therefore as our Ariglo-Troveurs found their Romane
or Norman French in full use at the Anglo-Norman
court, and among its nobility, even when embosomed
in England, they made it the language of their literary
eff"usions. From the time at least of Hugh Capet,^ it
had become decidedly the language of all the French
provinces north of the Loire ; and their new compo
sitions in it competed its predominance in the amal
gamated nation of the future France, and before the
thirteenth century ended, France could enumerate
the works of one hundred and twenty-seven poets.^'
'' M. Auguis says, ' II est clair que la langue d'oc etoit plus digue de
devenir la langue dominante : elle nous eut donne, par ses terrninaisons
pleines, douces et retentissantes, un idiorae aussi beau que nul autre.'
Dis. Prel. xii.
^ ' Cetteromancerie,proprement dite, remontejusqu'a Hugues Capet;
el se multiplie prodigieusement.' Aug. D. Pr. xi.
*' Auguis, ib. Our own times and country have seemed peculiarly
prolific ill poets ; but even in what are miscalled the dark ages, we read
that ' from Guillaume IX. who died 1122, to Malherbe, who was born
1.556, or in 434 years, there were no fewer than 600 poets in France;
nearly one and a half a year.' M. Auguis's work presents specimens of
the chief of these. W^e sing that ' Time has thinned our flowing hair; '
but what a havoc has he made in the Parnassus of every country !
' Tandis que I'ltaliens imitoient la syntaxe latine, que leurs finales,
toujours pleines, se prfetoient tout de suite a I'euphonie, et que le passage
d'une langue k I'autre etoit presque imperceptible; que, presses ou lents,
doux ou ftpres forts ou passionn^s, sublimes et sonnants, ou simples et
paisibles, leurs ecrivains pouvoient donner k leur gr6 a la langue po^tique
de la souplesse et de la variete ; qu'ils pouvoient raccourcir ou allonger
leurs terrninaisons aprfes les quatre liquides, adoucir une quantity d'aiitres
mots par des abr^viations diverses, avoir dans des modifications de fi
nales des modifications d'idees ; en un mot, se creer, par des exceptions
legferes et faciles, une langue poetique entiferement s^parde de la prose.
Nous qui avions et€ leurs premiers maitres, imus ignorions encore lo
genie de notre propre langue.' Auguis, ib. xiv.
HISTORYOF ENGLAND
318 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK Its antiquaries, however, complain, that the language
was not improved adequately to such a literary use of
LITEIIARY it, while the Italians, with more successful attentions^
or by more fortunate accidents, were giving to their
tongue a superiority of euphonous beauty,'^ which
no other European nation has either equalled or out
done. Francis I. drew the French out of its barbaric
state,°^ and extended to it the royal encouragement,
by ordering it to be used instead of Latin in the tri
bunals and public acts. Marot first^ gave elegance,
melody and ease to its poetry ; which INIalherbe, res
cuing from the pedantry and artificial compounds
of Ronsard, made more correct, regular, rythmical
and select. While Amyot and Montaigne introduced
many analogous improvements to its prose; Corneille
ladded to verse new dignity and force, and Racine
blended with it all that sweetness, charm, refinement,
taste and coloring,*^ which foreigners as well as na
tives both feel and admire. Fenelon afterwards allied
to his native tongue all the graceful simplicity, Intel
ligence, perspicuity and delicacy of his own elegant
mind and pure heart.
'• Auguis, Dis. Prel. xiv. Algarotti has left a very pleasing Italian
essay on the French and Italian languages, which will reward perusal for
its sweetness of diction and good sense.
" Auguis, ib.
'* Of Marot, who, as a poet, he calls elegant, but, as a prose writer,
' Indigeste et obscur,' M. Auguis says, ' il s'attacha aux termes, et aux
tours que le frottemeut de I'usage avoit le plus adoucis. Toutes les
limes agr^ables, toutes les phrases coulantes, echappees au hasard des
vielles pleines Francoises, il recueillit et emplo^a.' — He shewed ' que
la grace du Fraufois reside dans une tournure facile, vive, serr^e, et sur
tout claire et directe.' Aug. ib.
^ Le veritable fondation de notre langue poetique, en France, fut Mal-
herbe.^Cette correction suivie que personne n'eut avant Malherbe.'
Coi-nr ille added new force, and Racine gave it ' plus de charnie,' and
caused it to descend from its ancient majesty ' k une jeunesse plus riante
ct plus douce. — II mela plus de couleurs a ses tableaux, il perfectionna
Tart des nuances ; etrepoudit sur elle un eclat de figures et d'ornements
qu'dle n'avoit point connu jusqu'alurs,' Aug, ib.
POETRY,Facility of
its rime.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES, 317
No circumstance could have been more auspicious chap,
to the rise of true poetry in England, than to have ^^^-
had in its infant state such a simple and yet mark- anglo-
ing characteristic as rime. The first Anglo-Norman v°b"a-''
verses were so completely dull and barren prose, that, cular
if they had not possessed this distinguishing feature,
it is hard to conceive how their poetry could have
obtained a separate growth and peculiar cultivation ;
yet such was the rude and feeble state of the public
mind, that if the characteristic of its poetry had been
a laborious difficulty, it would have made no progress,
nor attracted imitation. In all the arts and sciences,
many of all classes must be tempted to study, judge
and practise them, before excellence can be formed ;
before the chance occurs, of genius being possessed
bv some of the cultivators. But from the abundant
consonancies which all languages retain, rime is a
form ofcomposition as easy of practice as it is a mark
ing feature. It is a light and pliable fetter, which
genius may play with as it pleases. It was so trifling
a restraint to our literary ancestors, that they com
posed in it works which in their length might daunt
even a sir Richard Blackmore, Wace has left us ten
poems in Norman French, of which one alone con
tains 1 2,000 verses ; '" and his contemporary, Be
neoit, has bequeathed to us two historical poems that
present us with at least 60,000 rimes." Gaimar
emulates this fertility ; and many other of the estories
and romans are as prolific.^* Even the Latin lan-
^ His Brut, Bib. Reg. 13. A 21.— His poem on tbe History of Nor
mandy, Bib. Reg. 4. C 11. is much longer.
" The Hari. MS. N" 1717, on Normandy, contains about45,ooo lines ;
and the MS. N 4482, on Troy, about 15,000.
" The roman entitled Les Gestes de Garin, Bib. Reg. 20. B 19. con
tains above 25,000 rimed lines. It resembles some of the Welsh poetry,
in continuing the same rime for many lines together. Thus 25 lines
310
HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK VI.
LITERARY
niSTORYOF ENGLAND,
Its advan
tage to
Englishpoetry.
guage, with all its march of dignity, was found to be
so ductile to this popular beauty, that Bernard de
Cluny, in the twelfth century, composed a Latin
poem, in 3000 verses, riming in the middle and at
the end ; ^^ and the work of Friar Amand, intitled,
Speculum humanse Salvationis, consists of above
5000 Latin rimes,™ Nothing therefore seems. to have
been easier than to write in rime, especially when
nothing else was aimed at.
The great benefit produced by the naturalization of
rime in our national poetry, was the abolition of the
affectations and distortions of the Anglo-Saxon style,
and the introduction ofthe artless language of nature
and perspicuity. The homely verses of our Anglo-
Norman forefathers established a taste for simplicity
and intelligibility, and framed a poetical diction, tbat
permitted the heart to speak its feelings without re
straint. No mental revolution could have been more
beneficial. Without simplicity and perspicuity, no
poetry is genuine, no genius impressive; with these
essential requisites, every true grace and beauty, the
most moving pathos, and the most elevating subli
mity, may be happily combined. Hence, altho, by
end in ie — followed by l8 in on-
Seen from six lines :
-and 31 in er. Its metrical form may be
Bene chancon plest vos que je vos die
De haute estoire e de grant baronie
Meilleur ne puet estre dite noie —
A St. Denis en la mestre Abbaie
Trouvon escrit de ce ne doute mie
Dedans uu livre de grant entesorie.
And see the Roman de Florimont, and indeed all the rimed romances —
they are all emulously wearisome in length.
^^ De conteraptu mundi, dedicated to Peter, abbot of Clugny, about
1125. Fauchet, p. 66
™ Harieian MS. N° 26. and Cotton MS. Vesp. E 1. The last gives the
author's name. — The Speculum Stultorum, MS. Titus, A 20. has nearly
4000 lines, riming in the middle ; and all Walter Mapes' Latin poems
are rimed apparently with great ease.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 319
having little else than rime, our vernacular poetry CHAP,
was born in its humblest state, yet it thereby ap- ;
peared the true child of nature. It has since grown anglo
r ,.,.,.. NORMA
to Strength and beauty, as the national civilization
has advanced. Every generation has seen it disclose
new charms, and acquire new excellencies, till it has
attained to such majesty, such universality, such rich
ness, such energy, and such polish, that the nation
has yet to appear, to whose superiority the genius of
English poetry must do homage,"'
°' Of the Troubadours, it may be mentioned, that only three of their
romances in verse have survived. M. Raynouard states these to be —
1. Gerard de Rousillon ; which may be placed in the beginning of the
twelfth century, if not before. It is on his wars with Charles Martel,
and contains above 8000 verses of ten syllables, in consecutive rimes. —
,2, On Jaufre, son ofDovon, one ofthe knights of Arthur, describing his
adventures in pursuing the ferocious Taulat de Rugimon, who had struck
dead with a lance one of the knights of the round table. It comprises
above 10,000 verses of eight syllables : it may be referred to the beginning
ofthe thirteenth century. The 3d is Philomena; which contains the ex
ploits of Charlemagne in the south of France against the Saracens, writ
ten apparently before 1200. Many other romances are mentioned in the
-works of the Troubadours, which have perished. Choix des Troub. v. 2.
p. 284-298. They have a chronicle of 10,000 verses on the war against
the Albigenses, by Guill. de Tudela, p. 283.
rime
320 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
CHAP, VIII,
On the Origin and Progress of Rime in the Middle Ages.
BOOK ^§ rjjne has become the principal characteristic
;_ of all English poetry but the dramatic, in which it
^j^t^l — ' cannot be successfully naturalized, it deserves a more
effects of enlarged consideration.
Of all the forms of modern poesy, tho other metri
cal modes of verse have been tried, and with grand
and pleasing effect, yet rime appears to have been
the most universally liked, the most frequently praised,
and the most abundantly practised. Rythm, cadence
and metre may exist without it ; but with all these it
associates ; and adds to them its own peculiar plea-
sureableness ; and therefore in its most perfect com
position may be said to present the most perfect ver
sification of English poetry. It is a sovereign which
admits of viceroys, companions and allies, but which
seems to claim to itself the superior throne, and to
have the power of giving to poetry an elegance, a me
lody, a strength, an intonation, a sweetness, and yet
also a pathos and a grandeur, which its absence
lessens, and which no substitute can so completely
supply. As its effects greatly impress, its principle, like that
of all verbal cadence and rythm, must be deeply
seated in the human mind. There is a charm in pe
culiar collocations and sequences, and in the conso
nancies of words, which the cultivated taste as sen
sibly feels, and with a gratification as agreeable as
the duly organized and accustomed ear perceives and
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 321
relishes the harmonies of musical sound. This mys- CHAP.
terious effect upon our minds has always formed one ^'^•
of the sweetest enchantments of poetry. What that origin
music ofthe soul is, which, independently of audible oress of"
sound, can be awakened and pleased by unknown ^'me in
sympathies with the measured order of selected words dle To'es.
and syllabic prosody, we have yet to discover; but ' " — '
that there are some fine chords of melodious sensibi
lity within us, the universal gratification experienced
from peculiarcombinationsof syllables, well-cadenced
prose, and the metres and consonancies of poetry,
impressively indicates. It does not depend upon the
ear, because the mind perceives and enjoys the grate
ful beauty without the use of any organical vocality.
The effect is, an intellectual sensation without the
instrumentality of sense ; and this implies, that there
must be something responsive to it in the intellect,
which occasions the feeling, and makes that feeling
so generally delectable. But, however it originates,
it comes in various shapes, and is producible by many
verbal arrangements.* The ending cadence of the
hexameter suited the language and delighted the na
tions of Greece and Rome. The pentameter, which
is less rythmical to us, was yet pleasing to the latter.
Their lyrical prosodies had also melodious agencies
on their accordant sensibilities, which we cannot ade-*
quately enjoy. Instead of these, each of the verna
cular tongues of Europe has found and formed from
its separate capabilities, positions of words, time, mea
sure, succession and combinations of syllables, modes
of enunciation, pauses, flow and cadences of phrase,
' The treatise of Demetrius Phalereus de Elocurione ; the orations of
Isocrales ; and the orations and speeches of Cicero, shew how much the
graces and eflect of verbal elocution were studied and valued by the
aiicients.
Vol. IV. Y
322 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK and connected resemblances of terminal sounds, which
^2l constitute the various species of poetical versification,
LITERARY that every nation has appropriated to itself, and loves
HISTORYOF ^^^ cherishes with intellectual delight. Among these,
' — •- — ' rime has been our property from the era of the Nor
man conquest ; we have withdrawn it, almost with
out a dissentient voice, from the colloquial poetry of
the stage ; but we have attached it to every other de
partment of the Muse, with a perseverance of ap
proving taste, which no censuring denunciation of it,
as the invention of barbarian times, has persuaded us
to discontinue.
It is true that it is barbaric to us in its chronology;
but it is not barbaric in its primeval ancestry or its
mental operation. It certainly came into English com
position amid the movements and from the nations
of the grand Gothic stem, who broke up the Roman
empire, and who introduced the feudal system ; the
duel, the ordeal, the common law, the jury and the
parliament. So far, therefore, like these, it comes
from a barbaric lineage ; but there is no more reason
to brand it as a rude barbarism, a pleasing contagion,
or a degrading deterioration;^ unless all the intellec
tual improvements which have flowed upon us from
the new fountains of mind and pursuits that were
opened by our Gothic forefathers, are also to be con
sidered as barbarian innovations.
Origin of But rime cannot have had a barbarian origin^
because rime is one of the chief poetical forms and
graces of the most ancient, the first cultivated, and
once most civilized nations and languages of the
'' .Algarotti tends to give it this character in his agreeable ' saggio '
on rime, in the fourth volume ofhis ' Opere.' This saggio is an elegant
specimen of the rythmical melody which Italian prose can receive from
a refined taste.
rime.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES, 323
world. That it was one of the great characteristics CHAP.
of the ancient eastern poetry, and abounds in the ^^^^-
Sanscrit and Chinese, in the Arabic, and in the Per- origin
sian, and that it existed in the Hebrew and ancient cress of'
Carthaginian, was shewn in a former essay,' Some of """e in
1 • 1 • , il ¦ 1 the mid-
these nations or their ancestors were the primeval cle ages.
stocks of all the civilization and literary mind of ' '' '
the ancient world ; and as rime was unquestionably
used by them, we may justly infer, that from them it
has descended to their branches and descendants.
That the Keltic and Kimmerian tribes entered
Europe and its islands from Asia, and were therefore
ramifications of the great Oriental trunk, has been
shewn in the History of the Anglo-Saxons; of these,
the Cymry, or the Welsh, were descendants, as well as
the Irish and the Gaelic nations; and among all these
people, rime has been an inseparable addition to their
poetical compositions ; unlike in this respect to the
Saxons, who used metre and cadence, without rime,
in their poetical eff'usions. All the remains of the an
cient Welsh poetry composed in the fifth, sixth, and
seventh centuries, uniformly exhibit the riming ter
minations." That rime, tho not made the charac
teristic of the cultivated poetry of the Greeks and
Romans, was yet not unknown to them, I attempted
to prove, not only from its forming one of the figures
of rhetorical and poetical diction particularized by
their critical writers on elocution, but from the in
stances of it which were traced from their composi-
' Printed in the Archaeol. v. 14. p. 169, 170, 200. To the instances
there given we may add, that the Ethiopian poetry is rimed. Lud.
Hist. iEth. I. 4. c. 2; that the Birman poetry is sometimes in successive,
and often in alternate rimes; Symes Ernb. Ava. 2, p. 399; and that the
Malay and Javanese poetry also abound with rime.
¦* These poems- are printed in the first volume of the Archaiology of
Wales.
HtSTORYOPENGLAND
324 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK tions, and which seemed not to be casual,^ It was
^^- shewn decidedly, that it was used in the Latin popu-
LiTERARY lar poctry in the fourth century;" and an instance,
which I was fortunate enough to find in Aldhelm's
works, that had escaped the notice of preceding in
quirers, demonstrated that it was known in England
in the beginning ofthe seventh century, and was
then used in his Latin poems by this venerated eccle-
siastic.'^ The instances which I also adduced from
poems of Boniface and his friends, soon after Aldhelm,
confirmed this certain chronology of its existence.
But as the old assertion, that it came to us and to
Europe from the Arabians, is still repeated by many,
as if that wrong theory had never been confuted, it
may prevent future mistake, to give in one view a suc
cession of specimens of its previous and continued
existence ; beginning with St. Austin, who lived at
the close of the fourth century.
1. ST AUSTIN.— A. D. 384.
His popular Poem against the Donatists.
^His little work of St. Austin, altho printed as ifit
were prose, in the edition of Paris 1 53 1 , is all rimed
in E. It is in parts of twelve lines, each part begin
ning with a successive letter of the alphabet, and di
vided from each other by a repeat or chorus. The
° This idea was pursued in the second part of tlie above-mentioned
Essay, 189-198.
^ St. Austin used it in his poem against the Donatists. See tbe first
verse of this quoted in the above Essay, p, 188, I owe my knowlege of
this, to the worthy old Welsh bard Edward Williams, who had more
knowlege of his country's andquities than any other person, excepUng
Dr. Owen Pughe. He had not seen it, but had some where met with an
allusion to it. This iutiinarion tbat St. Austin had left something of this
descriprion, led me to search in his voluminous woAs till I found the
poem, which was not easy, from its being printed like prose, and such the
incurious editor seems lo have thouglit it.
' See the Essay, and also the following pages.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES, 325
first part was quoted in the before-mentioned Essay, CIIAp.
The second part is the following : — _'
Bonus auditor fortasse quaerit, qui rup'erunt rete ? origin
Homines multum superbi, qui justos se dicunt esse. ^""^ '^'^°-
Sic fecerunt scissuram et altare contra altare ;,.„¦„ ¦„
K 1 M L IN
Diabolo se tradiderunt cum pugnant de traditione the mid-
Et crimen quod commiserunt in alios volunt transferre dle ages.
Ipsi tradiderunt libros et nos audent accusare
Ut pejus committant scelus quam commiserunt et ante
Quod possent causam librorum excusare de timore
Quod Petrus Christum negavit, dum tenetur de morte
Modo quo pacto excusabunt factum altare contra altare
Et pace Christi concissa spem ponunt in homine
Quod persecutor non ffecit, ipsi fecerunt in pace,
I will only add the first line of the next parts :
Gustos noster, Deus magne ! tu nos potes liberare —
Dixerunt majores nostri et libros fecerunt inde —
Ecce quam bonum et jocundum fratres in unum habitare —
Fecerunt quod voluerunt tunc in ilia cecitate
Gaudium magnum esset nobis, si nunc nollitis errore — -
Honores vanos qui quaerit non vult cum Christo regnare. — . ,
Justitia sequi si vultis totam causam cogitate —
It proceeds in the same manner thro the other let
ters ofthe alphabet, adding twelve lines to each initial
letter, and all ending or riming in e.
2. VENANTIUS FORTUNATUS.— a, d. 570.
The first verses of one of his rimed poems were
cited in the Essay. The three last verses are ;
Accedite ergo digni
Ad gratiam lavacri
Quo fonte recreati
Refulgeatis agni, Tibi laus.
3aiBOOK VI.
literaryhistoryof ENGLAND.
HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
Hie gurges est fidelis
Purgans liquore mentis
Dum rore corpus sudat
Peccata terget unda.
Tibi laus.
Gaudite, candidati !
Electa vasa regni !
In morte consepulti
Christi fide renati. Tibi laus.
Fab. Bib.
Med. V. 2. p. 545.
3. COLUMBANUS a.d. 615.
Beata familia, quae in altis hatntat :
Ubi senex non gemit, neque infans vagiat.
Ubi non esuritur ; ubi nunquam sititur
Ubi cibo supremo, plebs celestis pascitur.
Laeti leto transacto laetum regem videbunt.
Cum regnante regnabunt, cum gaudente gaudebunt.
Tunc dolor, tunc taedhim : tunc labor delebitur :
Tunc rex regum, rex mundus, a mundis videbitur.
Usher Syll. pi 10.
4. DREPANIUS FLORUS — a. d. 650.
Besides the verses cited in the Essay, another may
be inserted here. Hie namque virtus inclita
Plebis beatae premia";
Hie ipse Christo proflua
Servat salutis gaudia. Mag. Bib. Pat. 8. p. 738.
5. ST. ALDHELM Died a. d. 710.
As this passage gives a firm foundation to the new
fact, that rime was known and used by Aldlielm
in England, before the Arabs invaded Spain ; and
therefore that it did not originate to us from them,
I will insert it here. He says, ' ut non inconvenienter
carmine rythmico dici queat.' It had passed unno-
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 327
ticed by preceding inquirers. But when I had the CHAP.
good fortune to observe it in Aldhelm's rhetorical _^'
work, as I was reading that for other purposes, it origin
satisfied me that rime had not originated in Eng- g^^f,s of"
land from any Arabian source. The most probable "¦"'^ '^
...... ... , , 1 • J ¦ ^''E MID-
idea as to its origin m his mind, is, that he derived it dle ages.
from the ancient Welsh bards, with whom his con-. ^^
nexions with Glastonbury may have brought him
acquainted. Christus passus patibulo
Atque leti latibulo
Virginem Virgo Virgini
Commendabat tutamini.
Aldhelm de Virg. p. 297. Whart. ed.
Aldhelm here not only gives us an example, but
also the name ; he calls it " rythmico," or rimed.
In the same work also occur —
Beata Maria !
Virgo perpetua !
Hortus conclusus ;
Fons signatus ;
Virgula radicis,
Gerula floris.
Aurora solis :
NiuTis patris. — Ib. p. 342.
Of Aldhelm's own poetry there is an epistle printed
among the letters of Boniface, which is in Latin rime,
of which the following is a specimen :
Cumque flatus victorias
Non furerentingloriae
Tremebat tellus turbida ;
Atque eruta robora
Cadebunt cum verticibus
Simul ruptis radicibus.
Neque guttae graciliter
Manabant, sed minaciter
Mundi rotam rorantibus
Humectabant cum imbribus.
Carmen Aldh. 16 Mag. Bib. 74.
Y 4
HISTORYOFENGLAND.
328 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK All these specimens were written before the Ara-
^^- bians invaded Spain, and fully prove the anterior
LITERARY use of rime by a Roman in Africa, SL Austin ; by
a priest in France, Venantius Fortunatus; by an Irish
man at St. Gall, Columbanus; by Drepanius Florus ;
and by an Anglo-Saxon in England, St. Aldhelm.
These instances fully destroy the Arabian theory of
the origin of rime.
The following specimens are from . the Welsh
bards, who lived between 500 and 700.
ANEURIN — A. D. 550.
A uawr gynhornan
Huan ar wyran
Gwledig gyd gyfgein
Nef Ynys Brydain.
Bwyt y Eryr erysmygei
Pan gryssei gydjrwal cyfdwyreei
Awr gan wjfrd wawr cyn y dodei
Aessawr dellt am bellt a adawei
Pareu rynn rwygial dygymmy nei
Ygat blaen bragat briwei
Mad Syvno symedwydd ac gwyddyei. Welsh Arch. 3, 4.
TALIESIN A. D. 550.
Ni chyfarchaf fi gogledd
Ar mei teymedd
Cyn pei am laweredd
Y gwelwn gynghwystletld
Nid rhaed ym hoifedd
Urien nim gommedd. — Ib. 59.
LLYWARCH HEN a. d. 600
Pen a borthav ar vy ysgwydd
Ni'm arvollai warudwydd
Gwae vy llaw lladd vy arglwydd !
Pen a borthav ar y mraich
Nous gorug o dir Brynaich
Gwedy gwawr elorawr vaich. — Welsh Arch. 104.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 32a
MYRDDHEN — 580. CHAP.
Oian a parchellan bychan breichfras VIII.
Andaw de lais adar mor mawn en dias
Kerddorion allan heb ran urddas
Gwrthunawd esspyd a bryd gan was
Heb godwyd wyneb, hebran urddas. — Welsh Arch. 1 37.
To the citations in the Essay from our Boniface,
I will add the following, also from him, because it
exhibits that precise metre and rime, which nearly
four centuries afterwards became the great charac
teristic ofthe Anglo-Norman poetry — the eight-syl
lable rimed verse. BONIFACE Died a. d. 755.
Nicharde ! nunc nigerrima
Imi Cosmi contagia
Temne fauste tartaria
Hoc contra hunc supplicia
Altaque super aethera
Rimari petens agraina. — 16 Mag. Bib. 49.
The Antiphonarurn of the Bangor monastery, in
Wales, written in the seventh, or at latest, in the
eighth century, has a hymn of St, Cangill, which
is rimed. Recordemur justitiae
Nostri Patroni fulgidae
Cangilli sancti nomine
Refulgentis in opere
Audite pantes ta erga
AUati ad Angelica
Athletae Dei abdita
A juventate florida — Murat. Ant. p. 688.
All these specimens concur to prove the following
facts :
That rime was, in the year 384, used in the vulgar
poetry of the Romans.
HISTORYOFENGLAND.
330 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK And in the years 570 and 650 by the Latin eccle-
^^' siastics.
LITERARY And in 550, 580, and 600, by the ancient Welsh
bards, and in the Bangor monastery.
And in 700, by the Anglo-Saxon Aldhelm, and
before 750, by Boniface.
To these established truths we may add, that in
the sixth century it was also used in the vernacular
Irish poetry,* and is the regular accompaniment of
their ancient historical ballads.® Their language also
contains words, which, in their verbal sound express
it." Descending to later times, I have observed the
following authors who have written in rime.
The MS, of the work of Theobaldus on animals
has been declared to be of the eighth century ; if so,
° I learn this from Dr. O'Conner's Prolegomena. He has printed the
Irish poem on St. Patrick, ascribed to Frecus Sleibhhenses, from the
very ancient Dungal MS., and justly placed by the Irish antiquaries in
the sixth century.
It is in thirty-four stanzas. Its first and last are.
First — Genair Patraic i Nemtbur.
Asseadh adfet hi Sclebaibh,
Macan se mbliadan decc
An tan do breth fo dbei-aibh.
Last — Patraic cen airde nuabhair,
Ba mor do maith ro meanuir,
Bith in gellsine meic Maire
Bha sen gaire in genuir. — xc.-xcvi.
° See those quoted in the preceding 1st volume of this History,
page 275, note, ofthe dales of 1057 and 1143.
'° Dr. O'Connor says, ' The Irish ascribe no other meaning but rime
to their words rann, rimh, riomb, renn, which are ancient Irish words.'
Prel. 2. p. Ixviii. He remarks, Bede, I. 5. c. 18, that Aldhelm was edu
cated by the Irish Maildulph, and instructed by him in Latin learning,
and therefore infers, that Aldhelm took his rime from his Irish tutors, ib.
I bave no objection to his conclusion. It is not improbable, but as it is as
likely, that Aldhelm was acquainted with the British bards, the Larin
ecclesiastics, and St. Austin, and learnt it from them, and as it may have
been used in the popular songs of England, I cannot affirm that tbe
Doctor is as right m his' deduction as he is patriotic in urging it. But
from whatever source Aldhelm became acquainted with it, we cannot for
a moment believe that rime originated in Ireland.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. »H
it proves that rime was then in use, altho his au- chap.
thority has not hitherto been known or referred to. ^^^^-
But out of his Latin verses on his twelve animals, origin
those on two of them, the spider and the turtle-dove, gj^Ess of'
are in rime. As the work has not been quoted be- ^^^^ ™
p T -n 1 • • 1 "^^^ MID-
fore, I will subjoin them. dle ages.
THEOBALDUS a. d. 800. " '
The lines on the spider are very flowing and easy:
Vermis aranea licet exiguus,
Plurima fila nectit assiduus.
Qui vivere solet his studiis
Texere que solet artificitus
' Sunt ea rethia, musca ! tibi,
' Ut volitans capiaris ibi.*
Dulcis et utilis esca sibi
Huic placet illud opus tenue
Sed sibi nil valet, nam fragile
Quaelibet aura trahit in patulum
Rumpitur et cadit in nihilum.
Hos sequitur homo vermiculos
Decipiendo suos inimicos
Quos comedit, faciens miseros :
Et placet sibi inde nimium
Quando nocere potest alium.
Ille tamen vicium quandoque facit.
Cum moritur, quasi tela cadit,
Quammodo dictus aranea facit.
His rimed verses on the turtle-dove are not un-
pleasing. Turtur, inane nescit amore :
Nam semel uni juncta marito
Semper adheret, cum simul ipso
"Nocte die que juncta manebit
Absque marito nemo videbit
Sed viduata si caret ipso
Non tamen ultro nubit amico
Sola volabit ; sola sedebit
Et quasi vivum corde tenebit
Operiens que casta manebit.
332 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK His moral application of it is also rimed.
• Sic anima extat queque fidelis
LITERARY Facta virilifedere felix
HISTORYOF Namque maritus, est sibi Christus.
ENGLAND. Cum sua de se pectora replet.
Si bene vivit, semper adheret :
Non alienum querit amicum
Quamlibet Orcus sumpserit ilium ;
Quem superesse credit in ethere
Inde futurum spectat eundem
Ut microcosmum judicet omnem.
Theob. Physiologus.
OTFRED.— A. D. 870.
Petrus auur zeli mir
Bin in liob filu tliir ?
1st thaz herza thinaz
Mir unarlicho holdas ?
HARTMANNUS, a Monk of St. Gall.— a. d. 870,
Tribus signis
Deo dignis
Dies ista coletur
Tria signa
Laude digna
Coelus hie persequitur
Stella magos
Duxit vagos
Ad praesepe Domine.
Bib. Pat. v. 27. p. 5] 7
ST. BERNARD.— A. d. 1100.
Sanguis Tuus abundanter
Fusus fuit incessanter
Totus lotus in cruore
Stas in maximo dolore
Precinctus vili tegminae !
O majestas infinita!
O egestas inaudita !
Quis pro tanta charitate
Querit te in veritate
Dans sanguinem pro sanguine. Op. p, 1656.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES.
Pectus mihi confer mundum
Ardens, plum, gemebundum :
Voluntatem abnegatam,
Tibi semper conformatam
Juncta virtutem copia.
Tu mentis delectatio
Amoris consummatio
Tu mea gloriatio
Jesu ! muadi salvatio !
Veni ! veni ! rex optime !
Pater immensae gloriae !
Afiulge menti clarius !
Jam expectatus saepius. — p. 1660
Sol ! occasum nesciens !
Stella semper rutilans !
Semper clara
Siout sidus radium
Profert virgo filium
Pari forma. — p. i66it
333
CHAP.
VIII.
origin AND pro
gress OF
RIME IN
THE MID
DLE AGES.
ANSELM A.D. 1100.
1. Rimed hexameters; as those of Anselm on
Lanfranc :
Ipse tamen tectus fliit asperitatis amictu ;
Semper de vili vivens et paupere victu —
Asper in elatos : nulli pro munere supplex
Innocuusque bonis et nullo tempore duplex —
Omnes electi ! precibus meritis que juvate,
Lanfrancum, vestris et nobis consociate. Lanf. Op. Vit. 17.
PETER.— A.D. 1140.
2. Hexameters; sometimes riming in couplets
and sometimes in the middle of the line, where the
author could not produce the terminal consonance.
Thus Peter, a friend of Malmsbury, who calls him
a versifier to be ranked among the most eminent,
334 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK writes on an abbot, beginning with a studied allite-
^^' ration :
LITERARY V^"" pi'obus etprudoHs, vir vere consiliorum
HISTORYOF Extera ditavit, curavit, et intima morum.
ENGLAND. Omuibus lustructus, quos tradit litera fructus.
Ad decus ecclesiae, vertit monumenta Sophiae
Omnibus imbutus quas monstrat physica leges
Ipsos demeruit medicandi munere reges. — Malm. 253.^
HOVEDEN A. D. 1199.
3. Our ancientHoveden has tried some quatrains of
Latin rime on his admired contemporary Richard I.
The two first are,
Graves nobis adniodum dies effluxere.
Qui lapillis candidis digni non fuere.
Nam luctus raateriam mala praebuere,
Quae sanctam Jerusalem constat sustinere,
Quis enim non doleat tot sanctorum caedes?
Tot sacras Domino profanatas cedes ?
Captivatos principes et subversas sedes ;
Devolutos nobiles ad servorum pedes ? — Hoved, 666,
Six others follow.
BERTERUS a. d. 1150,
4, Those of Magister Berterus on the crusades,
are more like some of the forms of the vernacular
poetry. It ends,
Cum attendas ad quid tendo,
Crucem tollas, et vovendo
Dicas, Illi me commendo
Qui corpus et animam
Expendit in victimam
Pro me moriendo.
Then follows what has been the chorus to the pre
ceding parts : — Lignum crucis
Signum ducis
DURING THE ailDDLE AGES, 330
Sequitur exercitus. CHAP.
Quod non cessit VIII.
Sed processit
In vi Sancti Spiritus Hoved. 640.
Specimens of the rimes of the Anglo-Norman ""
poetry may be seen in the quotations before made in the
this volume.
The above instances present a continuing sequence
of the use of rime in various parts of Europe, from
the fourth century to the twelfth, and with varied
metres : and these specimens, connected with those
adduced from the Oriental languages, lead us, unhe
sitatingly, to infer, that rime has been an appendage
to poetry in all ages and countries, from its earliest
composition to the present day, and is no more pe
culiar to the Arabians than to any other nation on
earth." It prevailed more or less in the east, the
south, the west, and north parts of the world ; altho
some nations preferred musical melodies for their
metres, instead of the riming consonancy. The
metrical forms of classical poetry were without it;
and these seem to have gained the predominance,
from their ancient relation or adaptation to their
musical airs.
To complete this subject, it only remains to make
a few observations on that form of verse called Leo
nine, in which the middle of every line rimes with
its teriiiination, ^^^
ON LEONINE RIME.
It is well known, that the verses in which the
middle syllable rimes with the ending one, as those
from Thierricus, in the next page, have received the
appellation of Leonine rimes. How anciently they
" That rime was a regular appendage to the Sanscrit poetry, we see
by tbe Ghata Karparain, a Sanscrit poem of the tenth century, published
with a translation in 1828, by M. Durtch, at Berlin.
336 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK were so named, appears from the instances quoted
_^ by Du Cange, Gloss. Med. v. 2. p. 251.
LITERARY Thus, jSlgldlus Parls :
HISTORYOF -[yjgp minus in sacris, melico sermone leonem
ENGLAND. , , .... . . , ,
Ludentera historiis, et quem intepuisse dolemus. Karolin. 1. 5.
Thierricus Valliscoloris :
His rcplicans clare, tres causas explico quare
More leonino dicere metra sine — Vit. Urb. 4.
Episcopus Senogall :
Quia passus leoninos. — Itin. Greg. 1 1 .
Guill. Guiart :
Et cils qui ne set en sa rime
Qu'est consonant, ou leonime.
Metulinus :
Ut haberet leoninitatem in versu. — Grec. C. 15.
From these, and especially from the first citation,
Du Cange infers that they were called Leonine,
" because they were invented by a certain Leo, a
poet, who lived about the time of Louis VII. or
Philip Augustus."
This opinion is also an ancient one; for Eberhard
Bethuniensis, who wrote in 1212, thus expresses, in
the third part ofhis " Labyrinthus :" —
Sicut, inventoris de nomine, dicta leonis
Carmina, quae tali sunt inodulanda modo.
His instance is
Pestis avaritiae, durumque nefas simoniae.
Fab. Med. Lat. 1. 11. p. 776.
I am not fond of opposing ancient authorities, who
being so much nearer the time of actual knowlege,
must have better materials for judging than we can
possess. But yet this theory is so wrong as to the
origin both of the verse and the name, that I cannot
discharge the duty I have undertaken, of exhibiting,
as far as I am able, the historical truth on the main
subjects of attention in the middle ages, without
DURING THE IMIDDLE AGES. 337
ending the error, and attempting to elucidate the CHAP.
actual fact. I^-
1st. There are no works of such an assumed Leo origin
extant, and nothing known about him; and no chro
nology, country, parentage, profession or situation
really or justly applied to him.
2d. Verses or lines thus rimed did not originate
in the middle ages, but were known to both the
Greeks and Romans; and such coinciding sounds
are noticed as one of the verbal graces of ancient com
position. See Aquila Romanus in Antiq. Rhet. p. 23.
3d. These are thus also noticed by our venerable
Bede, " Hac figura poetae et oratores saepe utuntur. Poetae hoc modo.
Pervia divisi, patuerunt caerula ponti."
De Tropis. Ant. Rhet. p. 378.
4th. Above two centuries before the arbitrary plac
ing of this fancied inventor Leo, alongpoetn of seve
ral hundred hexameter verses, all Leonine rimes,
was composed by a German lady, Hrosvitha, on
the actions and life of Otho, the emperor of Ger
many, who married the daughter of our Anglo-
Saxon Athelstan. She brings her work down to the
year 967, about which time she finished it. The fol
lowing specimen is a part of its beginning :
Et cum te libri, laudantes congrue multi.
Post hoc ascribentur, merito que placere probentur,
Ordine postremus, non sit tamen iste libellus,
Quem prius exemplo, constat scriptum fore nullo,
Et licet imperii, teneas decus Octaviani,
Non dedigneris, vocitari nomme regis.
Rer. Germ. Reub. p. 162.
5th. They were also used by Marbodius, who
died 1123, at the age of 88, and whose poem De
Gemmis has been already noticed. This was written
Vol. IV. Z
338 HISTORY OT ENGLAND,
in classical metre ; but three others of his Latin
verses are in Leonine rimes.
Thus his " Historia Theophili Psenitentis:"
Quidam magnorum^ Vicedomus erat meritorum
Theophilus nomen, tenuit quoque nominis omen.
His Paraphrase of the Canticles :
Quem sitio votis, nunc oscula porrigat oris.
ita Alexii :
restans magnatis, summe vir nobilitatis
temmate Romanus, efi'ulserat Eufemianus.
Fab. Bib. Med. L 12. p. 47.
¦^th. Philip Du Than wrote his poems between
1120 and 1135, entirely in them. I cite his lines on
the turtle, as I ha^ given before those of Theobald,
which seem to have been his original.
Turtre, ceo est oisel, simple caste e bel,
E sun malle aime tant, que ja ci sun vivant
Altre malle non aurat ; ne puis que il mourat
Ja altre ne prendrat, tut tens puis le plaindrat
Nesur veit ne serad, signefiance jad — Nero, A. 5.
These citations Completely disprove the claim of any
Leo, stationed near the year 1200, to the invention
of this species of rime. But then, whence came the
name? Isubmit thatwemay thus accountforthe origin
of it, without creating any person for that purpose.
The Physiologus of Theobald was a poem which,
however moderate in its real pretensioris, was a consi
derable favorite with our ancestors. Its being printed
so soon after the discovery of printing, and its being
so often referred to by authors in the middle age,
prove its popularity. Now it happens, that its first
subject was the lion, and that he wrote this in those
middle riming lines, which were subsequently, and
I think, from this very work and part, denominated
Leonine.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 330
These lines have been quoted in a preceding part chap.
of this Work;'* and the present author is inclined to '
believe, that their popularity, by one of those capri-
ORIGIN
cious accidents which sometimes occur in human af- gress or
RIME IN
THE MID-
fairs, occasioned the term Leonine to be applied to
this sort of verse, tho Theobald was not its inven- dle ages.
tor; as the name America became fixed on the great
western continent, tho Americus Vesputius .wa^s not
its discoverer.
A peculiar species of rimed Latin poetry is exhir
bited by our celebrated Gowek, in part of his MS.
Latin Chronicle of his own times. It exhibits a com
plication of rime, which must have been learnt from
the Welsh bards of the middle ages, as they occa
sionally use it as a favorite difficulty ; and it does
not appear in any earlier works. It consists of a series
of the same middle and final rimes continued for
several lines. The following is a specimen fronri
Gower's address to Henry IV.
O recolende bone, pie rex, Henrice ! patrone
Ad bona dispone, quos eripis a Pharaorae.
Noxia depone, quibus est humus hie in agone,
Regni ^ersoncB, quo vivant sub ratione ;
Pacem coitipone; vires moderare coronce;
Regibus impone frenum, sine conditiowe :
Firmaque sermone, jura tenere mone.
Rex cov&rmatus, licet undique ina,gniG.catus
Sub populo gratus, vivas tamen vcaraacxdatus
Est tibi prelatus. Comes et Baro, villa senatus ;
Miles et etrmatus sub lege tua moderatus ;
Invidus, elatus , nee avarus erit sociatus.
Sic eris ornatus, purus ad omne latus.
Cotton MS — Titus, A 13. p. 166.
In the next line, he names himself as the author :
Hapc ut amans c^nibit Gower, pie rex ! tibi soribit.
]' See before in this volume, p. 209.
z 2
.340 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
CHAP. IX.
History of the Litroduction of the Arabian Sciences into
England.
BOOK While the vernacular literature ofthe Anglo-Nor-
VI. . . -
— L mans was thus slowly advancing from rimed chro
nicles to rimed romances, and by deviating into the
romances in prose began to form a prose style of nar
rative composition, which must have improved the
phrase ofthe conversation ofthe day, and have gra
dually increased the power of expressing the new as
sociations and distinctions of thought that were every
where arising in the minds of the studious, three im
portant mines of intellectual wealth were opened in
England and Europe, principally by Arabian scho
lars, or by those who acquired and cultivated their
attainments. These were, the scholastic philosophy,
which revived that activity of mind which the Grecian
vanity had so much abused, and the gross habits of
the Romans had so long paralyzed ; those mathema
tical sciences, which the Grecians had imported from
Alexandria, and had forgotten; and that natural and
experimental knowlege, which neither Greeks nor
Romans had ever much or permanently valued or
pursued. Without these essential additions to the
English intellect, the vernacular literature would have
profited little, because it had nothing but vague feel
ings, uncultivated and rude ' estories,' unsifted from
fable, and rarely connected with moral instruction, to
impart. The great national improvements that soon
became discernible in England after the twelfth cen-
DUCTIONOF THE
SCIENCES.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 341
tury, arose from the combined operation ofthe scho- CHAP.
lastic vigor and penetration of thought, of the sub- ^^-
lime deductions and unerring reasoning of the ma- inteo
thematical sciences, and of the stream of knowlege
perpetually enlarging, that began to pour into the ^radian
world from natural and experimental philosophy. The
crusades, and the commerce which they made neces
sary, added largely to our geographical information.
The busy intermingling of the most active minds of
all the nations and habits of Europe, in the Palestine
expeditions ; and the dangers, suffering, vicissitudes
and romantic adventures, which were every day occur
ring in their prosecution ; roused the human sensi
bilities into perpetual activity, and put them under
perpetual discipline. From all these sources of im
provement, the general tone of social mind was in
England, as in varying degrees, also on the conti
nent, enriched and enlivened, and the vernacular lan
guages were polished, strengthened, enlarged, and
exercised. The riming and prose literature already
alluded to, first made these languages fitted for the
use of the expanding mind of the day; and when the
knowlege from all the channels we have noticed,
began tb flow around, cultivated individuals appeared
every where ready to imbibe, and ambitious to in
crease it. Mental originality, increasing judgment,
refining taste, and critical moral feeling, emerged with
augmented frequency in every succeeding age ; and
have impressed upon the English nation that love of
truth, science, reason, and sensibility, which has made
our intellectual progress unintermitled, and is rapidly
educating human nature to powers, knowlege, and
virtues, which may cause its future history to be some
atonement for its former degradation and abuse.
z 3
342 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK To put the human mind into this position, from
_^ its state of poverty and debility in the fourth century,
LITERARY it was ucccssary to destroy that literary taste for
^l^a°A^D^ sophistry and rhetoric, for contentious theology and
*; — ^ — ' vapid declamation, which had enslaved it so long^.
Apparent '^ i /-, i • • • i i -i • i
destruction But to keep the Gothic nations, in the ductile period
ture'^"^^' "*^^ their ignorance, from the fascinations of the vain
philosophy and elegant but corrupting mythology of
Greece, and yet to convey to them the mathematical
sciences of its Egyptian colony ; to abolish the pro
fligate system of Roman manners, the enervating
despotism of the Roman government, and its ora
torical cast of mind aiid forms of education; and yet
to benefit society by that perfect taste, solid judg
ment, and manly style of thought, which the best
Roman classics in their best passages contain ; and
to introduce the still nobler improvements which
divine truth imparts and creates, as the reason be
comes enlightened and enlarged, were efiects so
incompatible and opposing, that reason might have
despaired ofthe possibility of their production. These
contrary events, however, have occurred ; and it is
a worthy employment of the human intellect, to con
sider the means by which, in the very hour of its
apparent destruction, its eflfective reformation was
commenced and ensured.
The aera of The demolition of the Roman empire by the Gothic
Its r6forrn~
ation, tribes ended that state of manners and literature,
whose pernicious tendencies have been stated. The
various attempts of the diflferent Gothic nations to
revive the study of the Roman literature, which
would have renovated the evil from which it was be
come necessary to liberate mankind, signally failed.
In Italy, the irruptions of the fierce Lombards, em-
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 313
ployed and invited by tjie generals of Rome,* and CHAP.
made triumphant by its incurable vices,^ spread every ^^-
where that havoc and desolation, which extirpated inte,o-
the Roman manners, letters and language, from their
parent soil.^ In England, the barbarous Northmen
pursued the civilizing Anglo-Saxons and the Franks ;
and the merciless Huns, the German nations ; when
these several peoples began to derive their mental
education from the Roman literature. Rather than
that this should be re-established, it was better that
the intellect of the European nations should for a
season lie wholly fallow, visited only by the dews of
heaven, and agitated by the tempests of their stormy
life, till the time should arrive, in which a superior
vegetation could from other sources be introduced.
But it was necessary to raise somewhere this su
perior vegetation, from which society was to derive
anew intellectual life — knowlege, new empires — and
human happiness, new hopes.
' W^e learn from the Lombard historian, Paulus Diaconus, that ^^arses,
preparing to attack Totila, the king of the Goths, who had retaken Rome,
invited the assistance of the Lombards. Their sovereign, Alboin, sent a
chosen body, who, after the defeat ofthe Goths, returned to their national
settlements in Hungary, De Gest, Langob. 1. 2. c. 1,
' Narses released Rome from the Gothic dominion, and also repressed
the Huns. His reward for these services, more decisively beneficial to
the Romans than even those of Belisarius, was their base and invidious
applications to the court of Constantinople for his removal. In revenge,
he is stated to have urged the Lombards to invade Italy. Paul. Diac.
1. 3. c. 5. If his avarice occasioned his unpopularity (4 Gibb. p. 437))
and his treason the Lombard irruptions, the vices of the greatest man of
bis day are but a stronger exhibition of Roman depravity.
" See Vol. i. p. 6.— Tiraboschi, and his pleasing abridgers Landi and
Zeno, as well as Muratori, paint forcibly the devastations of the Lom
bards ; and yet so thoroly spoilt had the Italian population been, that in
the tenth century, Ratherius describes the Italians as peculiarly profli
gate, as using incentives to make themselves so, continually drinking
wine, and neglecting education. Murat, Ant. 833. Some of the popes of
this century, and their patronesses, harmonize with this political descrip
tion. Even Baronius, who can varnish most things plausibly, abandons
these in despair.
z 4
344 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BODK At the very period when the Lombards were de-
^^' stroying the last vestiges of the Roman empire,* an
LITERARV obscure people, little known before, was raised to
engTaJd.'^ sudden greatness from a corner of Asia, under an
"; — ¦¦ — ' energetic individual, who combined the warrior with
Progress ot ^ . . , p
the con- the Thcistical reformer, to perform the same work of
Arabs^ destructive conquest, but with more beneficial con
sequences, in the eastern or Grecian empire. After
Mohamed had suggested the idea, given the ex
citement, and began the conflict, the Arabians in the
seventh century overran Syria, Egypt, Persia, and
Africa, and in the next age, Spain, with that facility
which can only be explained by the superiority of
mental energy, self-devoting enthusiasm, and the
hardy virtues over moral debility and corrupted reli
gion, and acting in the execution of the divine will.
The literature of the Greeks, their proud and turbu
lent hierarchy, their civil and religious factions, their
polemical theology, and unprincipled manners, ex
pired wherever the Mussulmen triumphed . To human
eyes, the alarming revolution seemed the annihila
tion of knowlege, and the establishment of ignorance
¦* In 568, Alboin crossed the Alps, and invaded Rome. In 569, Mo
hamed was bom. Some deduce the name Arab from Araba, a city
near Medina ; but Ebn Said thinks, that the truest of all opinions, is
that which derives it from Araba, u town built by Jarab, tbe son of Jok-
tau. The Arabs were in two branches; those from Jarab, who called
themselves the Arab al Araba, the Arab of Arabs, the pure and, genuine
ones; and those who have sprung from Ishmael, who have been termed
Arab alraostareba, or the adventitious Arabs. Casiri, v. 2. p. 18.
The cadi of Toledo, Saad Ben-Amed, divides also the Arabs into two
classes. The origin of the first preceded Abraham, and from these came the
tribes of Themud, Ad, Sesm, Jades, and others, but these have long since
disappeared in the consumptions of time and accident. Tlie existing
Arabs have arisen from two principal branches, Cahtan and Adnan, who
were descendants of Ishmael. The scheiks^ who had the chief govern
ment before Mohamed, were from the Cahtan line. He was of the
Adnan genealogy. Conde's Arabes en Esp.igne, Maries' Translation, v. 1.
P- 31-9.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 345
imposture in the government of the world. It CHAP.
indeed a period of severe discipline and distress; ^^-
it emancipated Christianity from the bondage, intro-
Is and perversions, that were destroying its true of t"e'''
it and utilities, and from the spreading infidelity Arabian
was undermining its fabric. The awful dispen- > — .,, '->
)n uprooted the eflfeminate vices that would have
e the continuance of the Greek empire a perpe-
j of degeneracy, and a dissolution of all improv-^
virtue. It was a temporary swoon and bondage,
1 which the mind awakened with new powers,
has since soared to brighter regions.
he intellectual and moral benefits of the tem- Their uti-
iry predominance of the Arabian fanatics, were y'l'^ues"
ible and manifest. It abolished the Magian fire-
ship of Persia, which the Parthian empire had
1 upholding, and might have established in the
t. It terminated the idolatry that prevailed in
ly parts of Arabia and its vicinity, and even still
>yria. It obliterated the wild, ascetic superstitions
!ver-dreaming Egypt ; the arrogant and profligate
•archy, and the contentious theology and practical
ligion of the Greeks, Christians in name, but
se than Pagans in conduct. And as its victories
;ad, the debased manners, the wretched polity,
corrupt jurisprudence, and the imbecile adminis-
ion of the court of Constantinople, expired, by
ch its provinces had been long oppressed, and
r population spoilt. The hardy zealots of Arabia
ibined their imposture and their fierceness with
nuch personal merit, that they edified the con-
red world with new examples of virtues then
ost obsolete— of temperance, frugality, love of
HISTORYOF ENGLAND.
346 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK justice,'' constancy that no diflficulties could repress,
^l- liberality scarcely credible, piety reverential and fer-
LiTERARY vcut, aud au activity of practical mind so eflUcacious
and irresistible, that their triumphs seemed half
miraculous, from their rapidity and repetition. But
no people that was on the earth, when the Arabians
first emerged, comprised so many qualities then
wanted for its improvement, as these energetic de
scendants of Ishmael and Joktan. They had their
vices, and they headed a calamitous imposture ; but
the virtues in their national character, and even some
of the principles of their mental errors, were then
prolific of advantage to the progress of society. In
the present state of man, the good of the human cha
racter, cannot be had unmixed with evil. In every
generation the shades are diminishing, the lights in
creasing ; but while they are still commingled, the
very instruments of human progress will only par
tially benefit ; and all that can be done as yet seems
to be, that in every age, the nation most calculated to
advance the general improvement, shall be the most
predominant while its utilities continue operative.
When the Arabians sprang from their secluded de
serts, to triumph over the East, they obtained the
successes by which the ameliorating progress of our
species was then most eflfectually advanced. All the
benefit being communicated, which their agency
° Of the peculiar love of justice of the ancient Saracens, we have the
strong testimony of a contemporary Christian chronicler : ' In legalitate
Saraceni, et in justitia omnes alias mundi superant nationes.' Anon.
Ital. ap. Murat. p. 490. Their own writers display abundant instances
of the other virtues mentioned in the text. The Arab Christians in
Mohamed's time, were Jacobitae; who blended the divine and human
natures of Christ, into a single compositious mixture of both. Casiri,
V. 2. p. 19.
DLTIING THE MIDDLE AGES. 347
could impart, their triumphs ceased. The vices of Chap.
their ardent temperament, fermenting with their pros- ^^-
perity, and the mischiefs of their false system, opera- intro-
ting more extensively as their moral qualities de- o^th'e'^
dined, their political, intellectual, and social utilities arabia-n
1 1 • 1 1 • • y^ 1 SCIENCES,
departed with their virtues. Competent to produce > — . — '
only temporary good, the empire of the Saracens
was restricted to its eflficacy. When it ceased to be
advantageous to mankind, it was broken up ; and
new kingdoms, with new qualities, new tendencies,
and new contemporary utilities, were raised unex
pectedly to existence and to greatness, to produce
and -to undergo the new vicissitudes of influence,
conquest and power, and the internal modifications
and revolutions, which in succeeding time would
most contribute, and which have most contributed,
to meliorate the world.
When the Arabs emerged from their deserts, under Ancient
the caliphate of Abubeker, to attack the Grecian em- oV^the"'^''
pire, they had no literature but poetry with wild ima- Arabs.
gery and strong feeling,® and no science, but a slight
tincture of that knowlege ofthe stars which their pas
toral observations or ancient superstitions had pre
served. These scanty attainments almost perished
in their fanaticism for their Koran, whose heteroge
neous composition they admired so fervently, that
their prophet appealed to it as a miraculous authen-
* Their poets were accustomed to hang up their verses on the sacred
Caaba. Seven of these poems, older than Mohamed, have been translated
and published by sir William Jones, in his Moallakat, Lond. 1783. In
parts, they resemble very much the Song of Solomon, especially those of
Tarafa and Lebeid, The poem of Hareth has more affinity to the Pro
verbs, When I read these poems, I am tempted to believe that the Pro
venf al Troubadours may have derived some part of their inspirations from
Arabian Spain,
HISTORYOF ENGLAND
348 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK tication ofhis mission, and defied men and genii to
J^ equal it,^
LITERARY Their first expeditions were as destructive to Gre
cian Hterature as to Christianity, That they burnt the
Alexandrian library,* on the decision of Omar their
second caliph, that what agreed with the Koran was
unnecessary, and what impugned it was pernicious,
has been asserted by one historian of their transac
tions. For their credit, it has been wished to disbe
lieve the incident," which has been made of more
consequence than it deserves. On a calm reflection,
we may infer that it was neither fatal nor seriously
injurious to either literature, science or human im-
provemenL The mind of the world never dies, and
is always enlarging : books are its oflTspring, not its
creator. Whatever knowlege, or genius or intellect,
appears in any work, existed in the individual before
he wrote it, and passes from that and from himself to
others long before his production perishes. Books
' Mohamed twice rebukes the demand of his contemporaries, for his
miracles, Koran, c. 6. and c. 13. But at last adduced his Koran as his
authenticating miracle. — ' O ye men of Mecca ! — if ye be in doubt con
cerning that revelation which we have sent down unto our servant, pro
duce a chapter like unto it; and call upon your witnesses, besides God,
if ye say truth. But if ye do it not, nor shall ever be able to do it, justly
fear the fire, whose fuel is men and stones.' c. 2. — ' If men and genii
were purposely assembled to produce a book like this Koran, they could
not do it.' c. 17.
« Abul. Pharag. Hist, p.114.
' Mr. Gibbon declared himself tempted to disbelieve it, v. 5. p. 343.
I cannot affirm or deny the fact, nor can we now ascertain it ; but I do
not believe, for the reasons in the text, that any want of improvement
has arisen to the world from its destruction, dispersion, or disappearance.
We have got almost all that was valuable or interesting of the ancient
mind, or productions ofthe world. Some few historians that have va
nished, would have given us a few more facts aud many more fables on
the earlier ages; but I think we may infer from Herodotus, Pliny, Justin,
Diodorus and Strabo, that there was not much to have been learnt from
either the Pergamenian or the Alexandrian library, than what we now
possess. Instead of preventing human progress, the Arabs immediately
advanced it, after the alleged devastation.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 349
exhibit to us so many pictures of the mind of their CIIAp.
authors, but the treasures of the human spirit are not ^^-
confined to the printed or written volumes. They
flow from mind to mind. They exist in the general
i-ntellect of society, and gradually accumulate in its
individual members. From these they pass from ge
neration to generation, and would thus float down
and be diflfused and survive, tho our largest libraries
should be annihilated. The Alexandrian books were
but those of one city in the world. If the knowlege
and philosophy and cultivation of ancient society ex
isted only in the seldom-opened rolls of this single
accumulation of them, dark and wretched must have
been its ordinary mind ; and rude and ignorant, all
the-classes of its social mind. But we may be sure,
that the science and knowlege of all Asia and Egypt,
and Greece and the whole Roman empire, were not
shut up within the walls of Alexandria, nor could
perish when its books were burning. Some particular
authors there vanished, but if no copies of them were
in use or preserved elsewhere, we may believe that
they had become unimportant and unuseful.
The nonsense of our forefathers ; the useless labors
of former times; books that are no longer wanted ; dul
ness that sheds no light, and masses of absurd theo
ries and of obsolete notions, mostly fill the shelves of
all great libraries. The loss of these our antiquarian
curiosity may deplore, but our reason will not be slow
to feel that their annihilation would make no chasm
in human improvement ; nor could divest the existing
mind of the intellectual riches with which living so
ciety abounds, and is ever transmitting to its younger
companions and educating posterity. Books assist
the circulation of knowlege and increase it, but do
T.II ENGLAND
350 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK not create it, and may disappear without destroying
^^' it. It is true, that for a century and a half, the Sa^
iTERARY racens neglected all literature but their own poetry,
tales and traditions ; and that Grecian literature dis
appeared in the provinces they subdued, cannot be
disputed; but yet we must not consider the Arabians,.
at the outset of their career, as ignorant barbarians.
They were a branch of the primitive oriental mind,
with much of its cultivation, and with many of its pa
triarchal traditions, tho corrupted by the deteriora
tions of human imagination. But the peculiar political
state of independence, half savage and half civilized,
in which they chose to live, had made them, in
thoughts, habits and pursuits, a peculiar people, when
Mohamed increased their singularities, by interesting
them in his imposture. They had letters peculiar to
themselves before his time ; ^^ and their ancient lan
guage has been found to have an intelligible aflfinity
with the Carthaginian ; " and they cultivated with
'° Their most ancient mode of writing was the Homairitan, invented
by king Honiair, son of Saba, the fifth king of Arabia Felix. It is called
the Homairitanus Calamus, and consisted of mutilated and imperfect let
ters, united together somewhat like the Samaritan in form. It had be
come almostobsolete in Mohamed's time, and afterwards was so entirely
neglected, that no one has been found capable of reading the inscription
found at Samarcand, in the first year ofthe Hegira.
' From these letters, Moramer Ambarcensis made those wbich are
named Cufic. This writing, altho rude and unpolished, prevailed long
among the African, Moorish and Spanish Arabs; and still very much in
all Africa, In the 316th year of tho Hegira, A.bu Ali Mohamed, sur-
named Ben Mocha, invented the more recent Arab letters, with the
diacritical points, which, eighty years afterwards, Abul Hassan Ali, com
monly called Ben Bauab, brought to the highest pitch of elegance,' for
that kind of scriptorial character, Casiri, v. 2. p. 25.
" The celebrated Carthaginian speech iu Plan tus was one ofthe most
curious legacies which he could bave bequeathed to posterity, as it has
enabled men of Eastern learning to ascertain from it, the relationship be^
tween the Punic language and those ofthe contiguous nations. Bochart
has interpreted it from the Hebrew ; and Casiri infers an analogous mean
ing from the resembling words in Arabic, p. 27, The language of Car-
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 351
earnestness, eloquence, poetry and their native tales, chap.
Instead of the dispersion or conflagration of the Alex- ^^•
andrian volumes deteriorating the human mind or its intro-
knowlege, the Arabian taste and talents sprang im- ^'^''^^l''
mediately into a cultivation of science and general arabun
knowlege, which advanced both to improvements, ^.^^f^^
that neither Greece nor Rome had either reached or
sought for.
The Syrian Christians, whom they allowed to re- Their ap-
tain their religion, had the merit of leading them to ^ the°"
a taste for beneficial knowlege. The value of these sciences.
Syrian Christians has not been duly appreciated ; they
not only planted Christianity in India so firmly, that
we have recently found it there, a thousand years
after its introduction, but by their taste and labors
much of the Grecian literature and science had been
translated into Syriac,'^ a language which has so
much affinity to the Arabic, as to be easily acquired
by an Arabian student, and to invite him to the eflfort.
Syrian physicians were about the persons of the ca
liphs, and by their conversation excited an intellectual
curiosity in their sovereigns.'^ Al Walid, the caliph
thage must have been that of its parent Tyre; and we learn from Hero
dotus, that the Phenicians came to the Syrian coast from the Red Sea.
Hence it is highly probable that the ancient Arabic and Phenician were
either alike, or were sister dialects ofthe same common ancestors,
" The best account we have ofthe Syrian christians, and their authors,
is in the Bibliotheca of Assenanni. It contains curious documents of
then: activity in diffusing Christianity in India, and even China, in the
seventh and eighth centuries. To the first volume, a catalogue of the
Syrian MSS. placed in the Vatican library by Clement II. is added.
.Some Arabian poems are among them.
" That tbe Syrians were the tutors of tbe Arabs, we may see in the
fact, that tbe following Greek mathematicians were translated first into
Syriac, and afterwards into the Arabic : —
Menelaus de figuris sphericis et de quantitate et distinctione corp.
mixt :
Theodosius Sphericorum liber ; Auto-
HISTORYOFENGLAND
352 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK who died in 711, was so desirous to improve his
^ • countrymen, that he ordered the Christian writers to
LITERARY publish no more books in Greek, but in Arabic ; " and
this attempt to improve his native language, was ad
vanced by Almanzor, who had imbibed a taste for
astronomy, and respected men of knowlege. He be
gan that cultivation ofthe sciences which has so much
adorned the Arab name.''' His successor, Harun-al-
Rashid, the hero of the Arabian tales, increased the
progress of literature by the patronage ofthe throne.'^
But to Almamon, who acquired the caliphate in 813,
the Saracen mind was most indebted. He spread
knowlege around him with the zeal of an Alfred, al
most his contemporary, and with a munificence that
surpassed all competition since the days of the Pto
lemies. The Arabians rushed to their conquests with a
new religious creed, intolerant of all others, and with
an unwearied zeal for its universal propagation. This
intolerant bigotry made them equally hostile to the
Grecian polemic and the Pagan mythologist, and
therefore precluded them from reviving any part of
the Grecian or Roman literature that was connected
with its theology, or that had enshrined its paganism.
Autolicus de spheree motu, De vario siderum in errantium ortu et
occasu ;
Aristarchus de arithmetica, de magnitudine et distantiis solis etlunae:
Hypsicles de ascensionibus, de ortu et occasu, de corporum celestium
magnitudine :
Hipparchus de siderum secretis. — Casiri, Bib. 345.
I'' Abul. Pharag. p, 139. — He was peculiarly fond of architecture, and
built many fine mosques. Abulfeda, p. 123, 124.
" Abul. Phar. |j. 160. The mathematical works of Menelaus were
first translated into Syriac, and afterwards into Arabic. Casiri, Bibl.
Hisp. p. 345. So were some medical works. But the Arabs soon began
to translate from the Greek themselves, and their principal translations
were from the Greek. Casiri, p. 239.
'" One of the translations of Euclid into Arabic was made in his reign.
Casiri, Bib. p. 339.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 35S
Hence, when their caliphs directed their ardent minds C HAP.
to intellectual studies, they passed by the poets, the ^^-
historians, and the orators of the pagan classics, as
well as the disputatious Christian fathers. From the
intensity of their bigotry, influenced insensibly to
themselves by a taste derived from their ancient Sa-
baism," they fixed their attention on those parts of
Grecian knowlege — the mathematical and astrono
mical works, which had been composed principally at
Alexandria during that bright period in the history
of Egypt, which arose from the Grecian dynasty of
the Ptolemies, and afterwards. Almost obsolete in
Greece itself, they had never been appropriated by
Rome. To the rest of the world they were as little
known as to our ancient satirist, who, in his Piers
Plouhman, converts Ptolemy and the philosophers
into poets." But of all the subjects of Grecian know
lege, these works were the only writings that could
interest an Arabian mind, because pure from all ido
latrous contamination. Led, like all the East, to
admire till they venerated the stars,'" the quick and
" Al Bategnus, who made two astronomical tables, and wrote ou the
Lib. Quad, of Ptolemy, and de astrorum ortu, and de conjunctionum
tempore, and died in 929, was even then a professed Sabsean, or star
worshipper. Casiri, Bib. 343. So Thabet Ben Corah, born 835, one of
their great mathematicians and astronomers, was of the Sabsean religion.
lb. 386. " Meny proverbis ich myghte have —
And poetes to preoven hit; Porfirie and Plato;
Aristotle, Ovidius, and ellevene hundred,
Tullius, Ptolemseus ; ich can uat telle here names ;
Preoven pacient poverte pryns of alle virtues. Vis. Piers Plouhman.
" One of our Syrian travellers, Mr. Wood, said, he found himself iu
the night so struck with the beauty of the firmament, that he could hardly
suppress a notion, that these bright objects were animated beings of some
higli order, and were shedding important influence on this earth. From
this effect upon himself, he was sure tbat at all times the rainds of men,
in these countries, must have had a tendency to that species of super
stition. — Dr. W. Hunter's Lecture, p. 10.
Vol, IV. A a
HISTORYOF ENGLAND.
menknowlege
354 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK piercing intellects of the Arabs, fastened on astro-
^^' nomy as their favorite study, and soon revived those
LITERARY geometrical sciences with which it was connected.
Almamon, inspired with this taste, sent to the
Grecian emperor for the books of science which the
Greeks had written. He collected them also from
lleze Persia, Egypt, and Syria; from Chaldea and Ar
menia. He inquired around him for men able to
translate them; he incited his subjects to study; he
pursued it himself, and was fond of being present at
the discussions of the learned whom he had assem
bled, and whom he had patronized.'^" Perhaps no
country ever witnessed such a sudden acquisition of
knowlege as was produced by his exertions. In this
he was more fortunate than Alfred. The eflForts of
our venerable king left but a faint impression upon
his nation ; while Almamon's example was prolific of
imitators; and yet the Saxon mind was as active
and as able as the Arabian. The diflPerence may be
ascribed to the subjects of their study : Alfred had
nothing but the Latin literature to impart; Almamon
diflfused the true sciences, to whose improvement there
was no limit; whose diffusion was connected with the
best interests of mankind.
On the It }iag been from the cultivation of the sciences
Arabian ... , . i i i .
cultivation that are most intimately connected with natural phi-
philosop^iy, losophy, and from those pursuits which began the
experimental study of it, that the Arabians have so
much benefited mankind. The progress of the hu
man mind at that time wanted, as we have remarked,
an intellectual nation, which would separate the
" See Abul. Pharag. l6o & t6l, where he mentions the astronomers
who flourished in the reign of Almamon ; and see also Leo Afer de Me-
dicis et Philosoph. Arab, c, l . printed in Fabric. Bib. Grsec. 1. 13. p. 261 .
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 355
science of Greece and Rome from their rhetoric and chap.
mythological poetry, and dropping the latter, would ^f^
exclusively cultivate all that was valuable in the intro-
former. The Arabs, under their new tenets, were of thT
precisely the people to eflfectuate this, and were the a^^abian
only people who could then have accomplished it. ' — ¦, — '¦>
To them we are indebted for the revival of natural,
and for the rise of experimental philosophy. It will
not be uninteresting to trace, more precisely, the
reasons why the Arabs so far surpassed the Grecians
in these studies, as they have equally operated since
to make England and Europe transcend them in the
same paths.
It has been a matter of surprise to the inquisitive,
that for nearly 5000 years before the Arabs distin
guished themselves, the ancient world should have so
little advanced these branches of our richest know
lege. But this did not so much arise from an indif
ference to the subject, nor from any insensibility to
its importance ; but was principally occasioned by
two circumstances, very natural to their chronological
position in human existence; the fewness of their sci
entific observations, and the erring notions which pre
vailed on the causing principles of material nature.
As in every art, so in every science, the facts or Causes of
phenomena of which it consists, and from which it adya°ce
has been built up into a fabric of reasoned knowlege, among the
must gradually, slowly, and successively occur ; and
until a sufficient and varied number have occurred,
their mutual relations, connexions, dependencies,
agencies and consequences, can be neither traced
nor explained, nor any rational system be erected to
combine and apply them. A A a
ancients.
3.56 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK On every topic, the darkness in every mind is at
_^ first absolute and universal ; a few enhghtened spots
I iiERARY begin to appear, which assist others to arise ; more
en^la'nd'^ luminous points accrue, and from the progressive illu-
' — -¦ — ' mination the horizon of our knowlege enlarges; curi
osity then awakens ; the eye that was contented to
observe, is interested to explore, and the judgment
proceeds to class and connect the insulated pheno
mena, which have fixed its attention and excited its
activity. The subject of inquiry then assumes the form of a
science; and from the casual events and appearances
which satisfied anterior times, the philosopher advances
to a vigilant inspection of nature, for the purpose of
discovering her secret laws, and of multiplying his
experience of their continual operations.
In this sketch, we see the regular and historical
progress of natural philosophy. We live in the last
period, and are therefore studying nature with that
intense scrutiny, which the accumulated facts and rea
sonings of the preceding ages have qualified us to
exert. The ancients belonged to the prior epochs of
human existence, when the phenomena were but be
ginning to display themselves, or to interest the
human attention. They noted and thought much on
what occurred ; but their experience was too small to
enable them to reason justly, and to discern the rela
tions of nature ; and their speculations were too chime-^
rical and uncertain to become popular. Mankind can
easier discern absurdity than discover truth ; and no
thing permanently interests which is felt to be delusive.
A succession of time could alone cure this defect.
But that the ancient mind began early to reason on
duction of the
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 357
nature, appears from the cosmogonies*' it attempted; chap.
which are the earliest subjects of human inquiry ^^-
that are noticed in the history of human philosophy, intro
Before Thales, and afterwards,** nature was intently
studied by many, and theories were repeatedly made Arabian
to account for her operations. In supposing that na- - — .,-fl
tural philosophy was not attended to, we confound
too much the success of the inquiry with its pursuit.
Compared with our multifarious knowlege, little was
correctly understood in the ancient world ; but its
curiosity and eflforts to know, must not be measured
by their failure. Almost every Grecian philosopher
studied nature, meditated on her phenomena, and at
tempted to elucidate her laws. All that Egypt or
the East attained, was learnt and remembered ; and
it is hardly possible to read the physical works of
Aristotle, without perceiving that great labor had
been exerted, that much information had been col
lected, and that as much was really done as diligent
observation and careful reasoning could in those days,
and with their inferior experience, and under the
want of those good systems which the multiplied facts
of future ages supplied, be expected to eflfect
The great impediment and discouragement to this Ancient
study among the ancients, were their mistakes and ™'*,'he**
intellectual confusion about the causation of things, causes
_ 11.1. 1 -1 of things.
It was natural that m studying nature the ancient
mind should have been early drawn to the considera
tion of causation. We cannot avoid thinking of it;
" See Diog. Laert. and Fab. Bib. Grjec. v. i.
*¦ The physical works of Aristotle.shew us how much others before
him had studied natural philosophy. He quotes frequently Empedocles.
The Etrurians also diligently observed nature ; (Diod. Sic. 1. 5) and taught
a remarkable cosmogony. It limits tbe duration of the universe to I2,00a
years, of which, the first 6ooo preceded the formation of man, and the
latter 6ooo are now concluding. Suid. Voc. Tyr. Plect. Sylla.
A A 3
HISTORYOF ENGLAND
358 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK we see the eflfects, but not the power which produces
^^- them; because, while material phenomena are objects
literary of our eye-sight, all mental agency is as invisible as
the spirit which exerts it. Others might behold the
hand and figure of an Apelles, but not the genius and
taste which guided his pencil, and gave an enchant
ing existence to the inventions of his unperceivable
fancy. All material causation is but the secondary
instrumentality. The real working power and pro
ducing agency is, in every case, unseen, designing
intelligence; human, in all operations of human skill,
the divine, in every other. Human science operates
by the visible instrumentality of mechanism, expressly
organized to do what it eflfects ; and in nature, the
results we admire, evolve from the magnificent ar
rangements into which every part of nature has been
purposely combined for their production : But all
flow from the commanding causation of superior will
and wisdom, whether acting by laws and means con
nected and provided some thousand years ago, or by
express operation more recent or immediate. No
antecedence or sequency, however uniform or con
stant, can explain power and causation; because they
are but the previous or succeeding visible eflfects
which the unseen agency occasions. The anteceding
hand, brush, and colors of Raphael, Titian or Guido,
or their sequent movements, are not the causes of the
beautiful figures of these applauded painters ; their
unseen and unperceivable genius, knowlege, taste
and judgment composed the causation that moved
their hands, brushes, and colors, to the dehcate
touches, the exact outline, the fine forms, and mas
terly distributions of light and shade, which make their
sweet creations in one of the noblest of human arts.
SCIENCES.
DUIUNG THE MIDDLE AGES. 359
But the primeval divine causality being presup- CHAP.
posed, it becomes one of the most interesting and ^^-
ennobling objects of human ingenuity to trace the intuo-
pecuhar material instrumentality, which the Creator "f the"
has organized and uses to produce the phenomena Arabian
that are continually occurring.
It was upon this scientific point that the ancients
diverged into marvellous absurdity. Not perceiving
that the divine, like the human mind, organizes mate
rial means and instruments to be the visible producers
of natural eflfects on our globe, the ancients invented
a distinct deity for every distinct cause, and made
this fancied divinity the direct producer of every class
of its effects: a Flora formed the flowers; a Fever
goddess occasioned the fever ; a Boreas the storm ;
a real Muse the poem. This absurdity may have been
since paralleled by the later one, of expunging the
Universal Maker entirely from his creation. But it
is the rational object of true science to abandon both
these extremes, and to employ itself in tracing the
sagacious laws, the profound combinations, the mas
terly arrangements, the grand, yet simple means, and
the wonderful arrangements and combinations by
which every part of nature is compelled to produce
distinct and peculiar eflfects, and to continue its sub
lime course and multifarious operations, with unde-
viating certainty, with unwearied constancy, and with
the most precisely governed, and most nicely regu
lated and mutually adapted movements, counterac
tions and coincidences.
This research into the laws and phenomena of
material causation began in the middle ages, tho it
pecuharly characterizes the present times. It has
been already remarked, that Aristotle labored inde-
A A 4
LITERARYHISTORYOF ENGLAND.
360 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK fatigably in this path ; but the world was then too
^^- young, and its theories too obstructing, to allow him
much success. The Arabians pursued the same road
with more advantages and a greater harvest; but it
was the alchemists who dug the mines of nature the
most deeply, and watched her operations more in
quisitively and more discerningly. And amid all
their errors, what they really eflfected, fixed at last
the attention of mankind on the phenomena and laws
of nature, and awakened a continually increasing
desire to explore and explain them ; a desire which
will never again expire till nature itself dissolves.
But while we censure the ancients for looking only
for supernatural agencies in nature, it will be fair
towards them to remark, that it was, perhaps, hardly
possible for them to have avoided this tendency^
The primeval ages of the ancient world were not in
that quietude of mind on this subject, into which we,
from the later dispensations of the divine economy,
have been lapsing. No deluge now destroys a world ;
no Moses now shakes terrifically a mighty country ;
no Daniel astounds the founder of a new empire,
and his conquering people ; every nation is now
acting amid the common course of ordinary nature.
But when the renewed world began its new genera
tions of existence, the impression of the governing
Deity, and ofhis operations on our earthly habitation,
must have been fresh and earnest to a degree which
we are but little now disposed to feel, and therefore
cannot adequately conceive. It is impossible that the
tremendous dispensation of the deluge, and of those
fearful manifestations of his command of nature, and
of his exertion of that command, which occurred in
Egypt — the intellectual mistress ofthe ancient mind
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 301
— at the Jewish Exodus, could have occurred, with- CHAP.
out leaving on the human mind most profound, and ^^¦
awing, and permanent feelings of the divine agency
in the human world. The erring mind chose to de
viate into absurd theories of its own capricious ima
ginations on the subject of the Godhead, but could
not dispossess itself of the conviction which history
and tradition united with its interior sentiment to en
force, that all nature was governed by divine power,
and moved obedient to a divine will. The ancient ^'^con-ceptions
error was, that, instead of conceiving, like Aristotle, of Poiy-
the one supreme presiding Deity, reigning over all, ' ^'*'""
like the Persian monarch in his empire, and ruling
every department ofhis vast dominions by appointed
laws and ministerial instruments, they broke down
the grand divine unity into an immense multiplicity
of petty deities, which they placed over every part
and function of nature ; making gods even to flowers,
trees, fruitSj insects and diseases, and supposing all
the phenomena which occurred to be their immediate
operations,*' The real Creator and Ruler, and his established
laws, and their natural relations and eflfects, were all
lost sight of in this misleading system ; and instead
of these, nothing was seen in nature but the increas-
'^ In Plato's Cratylus we find the sun, moon and stars ; the earth,
jether and air ; fire, water, the seasons and the year, spoken of as divi
nities. Orpheus taught, and Anaximander also, that the stars were gods,
and were animated by divinities, l Enf, Hist. Phil. 147. The Pythago
reans believed the same. Ib. 396. Even Socrates ascribed the ordinary
phenomena of nature to the immediate agency of subordinate deities,
Ib, 175. That the air was full of those beings whom they called daimons,
was the belief of Pythagoras, p. 396 ; of Empedocles, p. 405; of Ocellus
Lucanus, p. 408; and even of Democritus, the founder of the atomical
philosophy, who also described them to be in form like men, but of a larger
size, p. 432. So Xenocrates exhibited the stars as celestial gods, p. 241 ;
and Zeno considered all nature to be peopled with inferior divinities,
p. 3.34.
HISTORYOF ENGLAND.
30-2 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK ing interference of these imaginary deifications. An
^^- Apollo was placed in the sun ; a Diana in the moon ;
LITERARY Neptune in the sea; and Pluto in the regions below:
fire was assumed to be under the government of Vul
can; the air under Juno; wisdom under Minerva ; the
vine under Bacchus ; fruit and flowers under Pomona,
Virtumnus and Flora ; the waves were inhabited by
Amphytrite, her naiads and tritons; the rivers obeyed
their respective deities ; the groves and woods were
filled with fauns, satyrs and driads; and every region
¦was admitted to possess its patriotic and local divi
nity : even the Jews endeavored to .shrink from the
tremendous majesty of their actual Creator, and by
their Baal, calves, and Moloch, to interpose some
minor form of deity between Him and themselves.
Even philosophers, tho not always accordant with
the vulgar superstitions, yet had fancies of their own
on this subject, proportionally extravagant. Pytha
goras and others asserted that the air was full of
heroes and divinities;** all nature was crowded with
them.** The Egyptians had a similar belief;*^ and
even Thales, one of the first philosophers of Greece,
who made nature his study, thought that all things
were full of gods, and that the world was pervaded
"' Diog. Laert. Vit. Pyth. The ancients made three classes of sup
posed divinities ; — gods, daimous, and a species of demi-gods, whom they
called heroes. "These are mentioned by Pythagoras, and his commentator
Ilierocles; by Jamblicbus ; and by Plato, in his Cratylus.
^ Chrysippus and Cleanthes taught that tbe heavens, the earth, the
air and the sea, were full of divinities. 1 Enf p. 334. Plato thought that
several parts of nature, especially tbe heavenly bodies, were gods, p. 231 ;
and Timasus, the Locrian, maintained that the Supreme Deity had as
signed to these daimons the inspection of human affairs, and committed
to them the government of the world, p. 231. Tbe Jews also believed in
the existence of a race of angelic beings, analogous to the Grecian dai
mons, to whose agency they were accustomed to ascribe every pheno
menon of nature, and every accident of body and mind. Bp. Heber on
the Holy Spirit, p. 74.
" Jamblicbus de Vita Pyth.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 363
by those divinities they called daimons.*'^ Whatever CHAP.
moved, was supposed to have within it a divinity or ^^-
a living spirit; and hence Thales taught that the load- intbo-
stone and amber had souls, because the first attracts "f'tiie''
iron and the other straw.** And it was believed, that Arabian
SCIENCES
the good daimons could be prevailed upon by reli- > — ^ — '¦'
gious ceremonies to communicate supernatural pro
perties and powers to herbs, stones, and other natural
bodies.*'' So the planets were believed to be animated
by divine spirits, and therefore to move ; and were,
from this supposition, adored as gods and goddesses.^"
Plutarch even thought that the sacred idols had a
species of divine life."
Every individual was supposed to be accompanied,
from his birth, by one of these inferior divinities, to
preserve and govern his life, to whom the name pf
genius was applied ; ^ and Socrates frequently men-
"J Stanley's Hist. Phil. p. 6. l Enf. Hist. Phil. 143. ^' Ibid.
* 1 Enf. 33. The ancient Arabs before Mohamed, had their full
proportion of divinities, and of manufactured representations of them;
for Al Graneb states, that there were at that time about the Caaba,
360 idols. Casiri, v, 2. p. 19 ; and see Pocock, Spic. Arab. p. 89-150,
on this subject.
*" Plutarch, besides mentioning that Anaximander concluded the stars
to be heavenly deities, remarks, that Aristotle also taught that each ofthe
spheres is an animal composed of a body and a soul. The body of them
is ethereal, moving orbicularly, while the soul is the unmoved rational
form, which yet by its operative effect causes the sphere to be in motion.
Plut. Moral, v. 3. p, 137.
" He says, ' For my part, I am apt to believe that the offerings made
in this city of statues and consecrated presents, sympathise with Divine
Providence ; and move themselves jointly, to foretell and signify future
events ; and tbat no part of all these sacred donatives is void of sense,
but that every part is full ofthe deity.' Plut. Mor. v. 3. p. 95.
^ Thus Menander, the Grecian Terence, said, ' A genius is given to
every man at his birth, who becomes the mystic leader of his life.' — And
Ammianus Marcellinus, quoting this, adds, ' There are certain, theologers
vvho maintain that certain divinities are given to every man who comes
into the world, for their conservation, but that these appear to very few
persons — as to those whom numerous virtues have exalted above others ;
oracles and excellent authors have taught us this.' Am. Mar, 1. 21. c, 13.
p. 684, Thus also Socrates says, in the Phedo : ' The daimon of each
person that was allotted to him while living, leads them after death to
Hades,' 227,
LITERARYHISTORYOFENGLAND.
364 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK tioned the daemon that attended upon him and became
^^- his protecting counsellor,^'
That all nature subsists by the will, is ruled by the
ao-ency, and obeys the orders of its Ever-superintend-
ino Author, is one of the grandest and most indelible
truths ofthe human mind, and the surest foundation
of human happiness ; but to confound the commanded
operations of the Deity with his physical instrumen
talities, and to make his precept the immediate agent,
independently of all the employed properties of bo
dies, was to turn the mind away from searching into
the direct material causes of the natural phenomena
which were every day occurring^ When Socrates
.spoke of thunder, wind, and the other moving bodies
around us, as the servants of God," he expressed a
fact consentaneously with the inspired Hebrew wri
ters, in the sense that they fulfil his behests, and are,
whenever he pleases to employ them, his ministerial
agents.^' But to inculcate by the phrase, that they
never occur without a specific divine causation, and
are not the usual results of the organized construction
and appointed powers of nature, was to preclude all
inquiry into the qualities of things, and their ordinary
actions on each other. Yet the mind of Socrates had
this tendency, because he rebuked Anexagoras for
ascribing natural eflfects to such natural causes as air,
aether and water.'®
^ Hence be is represented to have said, ' You many times hear me
speaking, because something Sewv xai Jaiftoviw bas become a voice to me.'
Plato, Ap. Soc. 1. p, 73.
~* 1 Enf. 175. Zen. I. 5.
*" ' Fire and hail, snow aud vapours, stormy wind, fulfilling his word.'
Psalm 148. V. 8.
^' In the Phedo, after applauding Anexagoras for making intellect the
cause of things, he says, ' I did not think that he would have introduced
any other cause of their subsistence, but from this admirable hope I was
forced away, when I saw him make no use of intellect, but assigaair,
aether and water, and other things equally absurd, as the causes of things.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. aG5
It being thus considered as impiety to look for the chap.
natural agents, instead of these multitudinous divini- ^^•
ties ; when Anexagoras taught that the sun was a
burning inanimate substance, many times larger than
the Peloponnesus,"^ and that the moon was habitable,'*
as these conceptions undeified them, he was accused
of impiety and tried for his life.'* Archelaus, pur
suing his train of thought, inculcated that the stars
were blazing iron plates ; '"' and this supposition mak
ing them no longer divinities, caused his opinions to
be discreditable, not among the vulgar only, but
among almost all the intelligent minds of his day.
It was because Socrates saw that the progress of
natural philosophy was leading to what he considered
to be atheism, and often was actually such, that he
turned the inquiring mind from physiological to moral
truth.*' These were the circumstances which caused the
ancients to make such small advances in natural
science, and not any indisposition to its study. For
Thales is characterized as one of the first Grecians
who inquired into the causes ofthe works of nature;'*
and all the four philosophers who followed him in
succession, evidently sought to explore them."' But
" Stanley, Hist. Phil, p. 65.
" He thought the moon to be a dark body enlightened by the sun, and
had plains, hills and waters, Plut, Plac. Phil.; Stanley, 65. He taugbt
the rainbow to he a refraction of the sun's light, (Plut. ib.) and winds to
be an extenuation of air by the sun. D. Laert.; Stanl. ib. Plato calls
his idea of the moon deriving its light from the sun, a more ancient opi
nion revived, Cratyl, 71. -
*' For this, altho defended by Pericles, he was fined five talents, and
banished. Stanl. 67,
*" Plut, Plac. Stanl. 68.
¦" Xen. Mem. Cicero Ac. Quest. 1. 1,
«» Cicero de Nat. D. I. 1. D. Laert. Strabo, I. 14- Lactant. I. 1 . c. 5.
'' That they made many theories, tho eiToneous, oh this subject, see
Stanley Hist. Phil. p. 6 1-8.
360 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK their own erroneous opinions, as well as the preju-
VL dices which surrounded them, blindfolded their judg
LiT^RY ment and restricted its exertions. Hence, altho the
HISTORYOF ancient Tuscans were distinguished for studying na-
' — V — '' ture,** they perverted their knowlege into interested
superstitions ; for their augurs pretended to the power
of commanding thunder and of directing the light
ning against those whom they pronounced wicked."'
The ancients were singularly confused and wild in
their notions of deity. It was a favorite idea with
most, that gods were an order of beings generated
from nature, like men ; a superior class to the human
genus, but into which the latter might also be trans
ferred. Plutarch was one ofthe most enlightened and most
reasonable men of antiquity, and yet he maintains the
monstrous opinion, that the human soul will become
a god. We treat it as the inanity of a savage mind,
rather than as its insanity, when we hear the New-
Zealand chief say to his European friend, " I, god;
you, god ;""® and yet Plutarch could say, for himself
and the philosophers who concurred in his sentiments,
" We are to hold, and steadfastly to believe, that the
souls of virtuous men, both according to nature and
to the divine justice, are made holy ; and from holy
beings advance to demi-gods, and from this semi-
deity, after they are perfectly cleansed and purified,
and delivered from all passibility and mortality, they
become, in real truth, and according to all probability
of reason, entire and perfect gods, receiving a most
" Diod. Sic. 1. 5.
*^ Seneca Nat. Quest. 2. c. 41.
*' It was the chief who had visited England, Shunghki, who uttered
this strange absurdity.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 307
happy and glorious end." "'^ Pythagoras taught the chap.
same ; for the golden verses which comprise hiS doc- ^'
trine, end with declaring, that when we quit this ^"tro-
body, we ascend into the free aether, and there be- op the
come an immortal and eternal erod."* The belief of '*^'''^'"*n
S3 ^ ^ SCIENCES.
the Egyptian nations, that their living kings and '• — ^^ — '
queens were gods and goddesses, and the grave assu
rance of Virgil and Horace, evidencing to us the popu
lar feeling of the day, that Julius Caesar had become
a divinity, and that Augustus would, on his death,
also be a ruling deity, shew a distortion of mind on
this tremendous subject, which nothing but the Lu-
cretian system, of all things making themselves with
out any maker, could equal. Both directions of mind
were so wrong, that it was impossible for either to
contemplate nature with impartiality or judgment,
and therefore natural philosophy had no firm basis,
no true principles, no intellectual friend, and no po
pular support.
The progress of Christianity extirpated from the
human mind these confusing misconceptions of the
divine nature and agency, and by expunging all the
systems of pagan mythology, left nature to be con
templated by the curious mind, according to its
visible and certain realities. As the christian belief
spread, one agency only was supposed to cause all
natural phenomena under the government of the uni
versal Creator; and this agency is the operation ofthe
natural laws or qualities given to all material things.
The Mahometan system, a spurious oflfspring, the
Ishmael of Christianity, adopted the same notion ;
¦" Montaigne bas quoted this passage in his Essays, v. 2. c, 12.
" Aur, Carm, p, 14. Hierocles softens this to mean likeness only.
p. 312.
308 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK and the agile Arab mind sprang first to those inves-
VJ- tigations, which sought in nature alone for the ex-
LiTERARY planation of her eflfects and changes.
HISTORYOF jj^ g ^jjg steady warfare which Mohamed and
ENGLAND. *' ^
' — ^ — ' his followers waged against paganism in all its sys
tems, mythologies, allegories, idolatries, mysteries,
and later philosophical purifications and refinements,
which led the Arabians to this great improvement in
human knowlege, under the tuition of their masters,
the christian Syrians. In the Macedonian establish
ments at Alexandria, the foundations of this happy
change were "first laid in the mathematical studies of
the philosophers who were there settled and patron
ized. One of the most sublime perfections of nature
is the geometrical science on which it has been con
structed, and which it so magnificently displays. It
was not irreverently said by Plato, that the Deity
geometrizes in his works : He has done so : He has
framed, placed, and moved them on the nicest cal
culations of mathematical wisdom. Hence, no study
has rewarded the human mind with grander or richer
knowlege than the mathematical skill which our re
volving earth and its connected solar system display.
The mathematical studies are therefore the scientific
branch of natural philosophy. Some great men of
Progress the Alexandrian school having peculiarly cultivated
Arabians, them, their works were introduced to the Arabs by
their Syrian teachers, who immediately appreciated
their value, with an extraordinary justness of taste
and quickness of discernment ; and devoted them
selves to these sciences with an avidity and a suc
cess, which appropriated the treasures and enlarged
the boundaries of all. They translated Euclid, Archi
medes, Apollonius Pergseus, Eutochius, Diodes,
DUCTION
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 369
Diophantus, Hippocrates, and Ptolemy."" On these chap.
they commented and disserted with emulous inge- ^^'
nuity. The establishment of a separate caliphate intho-
in Spain, and afterwards in Morocco, created new
seats of knowlege near the western regions of Eu
rope, where it was zealously cultivated. It is im
possible to read the long catalogues of the Arabian
treatises on astronomy, optics, geometry, arithmetic,
medicine, natural history and chemistry, and even
on music, logic, and metaphysics, as well as on
poetry and grammar, without astonishment at their
unwearied assiduity and successful progress.™ We
are but yet beginning to be adequately acquainted
with them ; °' nor is it the least singular fact of this
'^ The Arabic Life of Euclid mentions two Arabian versions of his
fifteen books; one, by order of the Calif Harun Al Rashid; and one,
more accurate, by the command of Al Mamon. There were nine Ara
bian commentators upon him. Casiri, Bib- 329. Ptolemy's Almagest,
in thirteen books, was translated by a Barmecide, the friend of Harun al
Rashid, and many commentaries were made upon him, and some epi
tomes, Cas. ib. 348. And Omar Abu Haphi, by command of Al Mamon,
commented on Ptolemy's Quadrip, from the Arabian version of Abi Jahia,
Ib. 362; The geometrical works of Archimedes were translated and
illustrated with notes, and scholia, by many Arabians. Ib. 384. The
Conies of Apollonius were made Arabian by Al Mamon's patronage.
Ahmad Ben Musa corrected the first four books which Helal Ben Helal
put into Arabic, as Thabet Ben Corah did the other three. Ib. 384.
Casiri also mentions the Arabic versions of Diodes ou burning specula;
Samius on spiral lines ; and Eutochius on Archimedes, p. 382 ; of Dio
phantus on algebra, in p. 370 ; and of Menelaus, Theodosius, Autolycus,
Aristarchus and Hipsycles, all Grecian mathematicians, in p. 346. Casiri
gives a list of the Arabian mathematicians, p. 402.
*" The catalogue which Casiri made of tbe Arabian MSS. in the
library of the Escurial, first gave modern Europe an adequate idea of
the extent of tbe Saracen studies.
*' The Arabians wrote many works on geography and history, which
have been brought into Europe. The duke of Saxe-Gotha's library con
tains Kaswini's cosmographical woik, intitled, ' W^onders of the Crea
tion,' and also the geographical works oflbn Alwardi and Ibn Ajjas ; and
that of El-faresi, one of their most ancient geographers, and El-hoseini-
Elmasavi's travels in Syria and Arabia. It has also the History of Ibn
Koteiba, and the little-known ' Dynasties ' of El Kendi ; the History of
the Fatemites in Egypt, by El Macrisi ; the History of Egypt, from 775
ofthe Hegirah to 803, by Ebn Chadseher; aud El-Mokri's History of
Vol. IV, B b
370 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK animated race — this important tho wild branch of the
'_ stock of Abraham — that their ladies in Spain were
literary distinguished for their love of letters and knowlege.^*
ENGLAND. While Europe, in the tenth century, was slumber
ing in that intellectual torpidity which followed the
downfal of the Latin rhetorical literature, the Arabs
were pursuing with ardor those scientific pursuits,
which were to give a new spirit of life and know
lege to the western world. Their mental fervor was
made to glow peculiarly strong in that part of their
dominions, Spain, which was best adapted for the
Spain under the Arabs, besides the writings of Eldchousi; Eldsahabi,
Sojouthi, and Ibn Challekan. Tbe whole ofthe geographical and histo
rical MSS. chiefly acquired in Egypt by the exertions of Seetzen, amount
to 230 volumes. Moellin's Catal. Lib. D. Saxo Goth. Gotha, 1825. One
of the most celebrated historical works of the Arabs, was the Taritch
Kebir or the great chmnicle of Al Tabari, who was born about 838 of
the Christian asra. It contained the History ofthe World, from Adam
to his own time. Elniaciu took most of his materials from it.
Abu Bakr Ebn Alabar of Valentia, who died .ibout 1268, has left in
his ' Silken Vesture,' a history of the most celebrated Spanish Mussul
men poets who lived before him, with specimens of their best poems.
Ib. V. 2. p. 20.
" Casiri has collected the following instances of Spanish Arabian
women, who became remarkable for their literary acquisitions. Their
names, for tbe example, deserve preservation.
Aischa Bent; in poetry and oratory, at Corduba. Died A. H. 400.
Labana of Corduba; in poetry, arithmetic, and philosophy. Died
A, H, 374.
Mazana of Corduba. Died 358.
Saphia of Hispali; in oratory and poetry. Died 417.
Radhia of Corduba, wrote many volumes on the art of oratory. Died
423. Valada, daughter of the king of Corduba, shone in literature. Died 484.
Fatima of Valentia, studied jurisprudence at Corduba. Died 319.
Fatima of Hispali, with her brother, wrote on legal institutions and
the history of her times.
Fatima of Corduba, wrote many volumes, and was very learned.
Died 427.
Algasania of Hispali; an orator and poet.
Maria; in poetry and erudition. H. 41 1.
Thona of Valentia, was greatly skilled in grammar and jurisprudence.
Died 506.
Maria of Granada; in learning and music. Died 545.
Mohgia of Granada; in poetry.
Mozada of Granada; in nistory. Died 593.
Lecla, ofthe same city; in learning. And many others. Casiri, p. 150.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 371
improvement of Europe. It was perhaps beneficial to chap.
their improvement, from the mutual emulation con- ^^"
tinually arising, even to insurrections and batde-strife
between them — which such mixed colonization could
not but occasion — that the Arabs settled in Spain were
taken from many diflferent parts ofthe eastern world."
In Spain, as in Syria, they permitted Christians to
continue among them, on paying tribute,''* who dis
tinguished themselves by argumentative contests with
the Islam faith, which often drew down the reluctant
persecution of their conquerors.** We find some of
these Mo^arabes, as they are called, even learning
Arabic.** But a caliph's order had made this an
obligation. It was in Spain that Arabian genius most success
fully cultivated science and literature, and produced
the largest portion of its intellectual harvests. As the
military conquest of the country became completed,
its kings or caliphs turned to mental enjoyments ; and
about the year 790, Hixem began the improvement.
" Al Hakem, who reigned A. H. I18, in the eighth century, in Spain,
distributed the numerous military cohorts of the Mussulmen who were
then in that country, into different cities, in order to appease their dis
cords. He put those from Damascus, into Corduba; from Egypt and
Arabia, in Lisbon, Beja, and Tadmir; from Emessa, into Hispali and
Niebia ; from Palestine, in Medina, Sidonia, and Algesiras ; the Persians
in Huete; the Assyrians in llliberi; and the Kinsarites in Jaen. Casiri,
Hisp. v. 2. p. 32. These in time became so many factions and seed-
buds of future revolts and civil feuds ; but competition stimulates to
improvement, and usually educes it.
" Eulogius, archbishop of Toledo, says, ' Tributum quod lunariter
solvimus,' p. 217.
*5 We derive our knowledge of this fact from Eulogius, In his account
of the Spanish Christians who were destroyed by the Mussulmen, and
whom he calls martyrs, he states, that the Saracens declared that their
martyrdom was voluntary ; and it is clear, from his narrative, that they
provoked the Mussulmen to discussions and resentments.
™ Thus Eulogius describes Perfectus as learning Arabic, and as an
swering in Arabic when he was questioned, p. 231, 232. So he states
Isaac of Cordova to have been skilled in Arabic, who perished 851.
P- 235- B B 2
372 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK He completed the grand mosque at Cordova, which
21l his father had begun, meaning it to be the most mag-
LiTERARY nificent edifice in the Mohamedan world," Culti-
ENGLAND. vatlug pocsy himself, he directed his royal bounties
to cherish and reward those who composed it, and
other men of letters,** He loved gardening and plant-
inff. He founded Arabian schools at Cordova and
other places in Spain.** His son, Al Hakem, was one
of those half-deranged soverieigns who, from their re
morseless shedding of human blood, are justly called
tyrants; but his grandson, Abderrahman IL, made his
court at Cordova, the centre of science, literature, and
the fine arts. He both rewarded and elevated men of
knowlege and the eminent poets of his day."" During
his reign, the Spanish Christians pursued their stu
dies at his Cordova seminaries." The intercourse
between them and their Mohamedan masters was at
" It was 600 feet long and 250 feet wide, with 38 na^es one way,
and 19 in the other, supported by 1093 columns of marble. The south
entrance was by 19 doors, covered nith bronze plates of exquisite work
manship. The principal middle gate was faced with gold. It was lighted
every night by 4700 lamps ; the one in the place of prayer, of massive
gold. Marie's Cond6, v, 1. p. 266. Such a building must have made
many skilful workmen in Spain about the year 800.
'" The ancient Arabian histories have preserved these verses of the
caliph's writing :
' The hand of the noble is open and liberal : the love of gain and great
ness of soul are incompatible. I delight in gardens of flowers, and in
their sweet solitude. I love the zephyr of the fields, and the smiling
ornaments ofthe meadows : but I have no wish to be their owner, for
I bave received treasure from Heaven only to give away. In happy
times, all my pleasure lies in giving. But when viar summons, to fight
becomes' my duty, I take up tbe pen or the sword, as need requires. But
if my people be but happy, I desire no other wealth.'
M. Cond^ Hist. Arab, p. 268.
^ He commanded the Christians to study Arabic at their seminaries,
and forbad them to use their Latin any more, which until that time had
been their usual speech, Ib. 267.
«" M. Cond6, p. 310-12. He succeeded his father, Al Hakem, in 821,
and reigned till 852.
*' Eulogius mentions several pereons, his contemporaries, going. to
Cordova to study, of whom some where killed in 851, pp, 235. 237.244.
His treatise is printed in the Mag. Bib. Pat. vol. 9.
DUCTIONOF THE
SCIENCES.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 373
this period so friendly, that the Arabs sometimes mar- CHAP
ried Christian wives; and we have an instance of i^
this sort, in which, the father dying, the mother edu- intro
cated her son in Christianity, and then sent him to "' ""
the Arab academies to be taught Arabian literature."* *¦'*=•*''
This was in the middle of the ninth century.
At this period the Arabian caliph of Cordova ruled
over all Spain, from the Mediterranean to the Ebro.
The mountainous sea coast of Gallicia and Asturia,'
and part of Leon, to the Duero, was under the Chris
tian king, Alphonso III., not unjustly, in many re
spects, termed the Great. The count of Navarre:
was now assuming the name of i-oyalty in his impor
tant frontier. A little kingdom was gradually forming
in Arragon, upon the fragments that were occasion--
ally snatched from the Mahometans; while Cata
lonia was governed by its independent counts; and
Biscay by lords who would own no master. These
Christian states formed the marches of Spain towards
France and the Pyrenees; but could then make only
bickering hostilities with the Mussulman sovereign
of all the rest of this noble peninsula."'
Muhamad I., a contemporary of Alfred the Great,
cultivated poetry him self; loved and honored the
learned, and protected the arts,"* But it was his great
grandson, Abderahman HI,, who reigned at the same
time with our Athelstan, that raised the power and
celebrity of the Arabian government in Spain to their
highest degree of greatness, and peculiarly fostered
^' This was Aurelius, with whom Eulogius was well acquainted; ho
perished in 852. pp. 244. 24C. 254, He states, that tbe Musselmen
treated tbe Spanish Christians, when they appeared in public, with deri
sion, and called them fools and madmen; that the boys daily scoffed
them, and that some threw stones at them as they passed, p. 218.
"' Marie's note to Cond^, 1. p. 325.
'^ M. Conde, p,357. B B 3
374 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK and spread the taste and pursuit of science and lite-
_^ rature among his subjects. Invited into Morocco, he
became also the master of Western Africa, under the
name of Protector, and was one of the richest sove
reigns of Europe in his day."* He maintained armies
at the same time in Gallicia, Catalonia and Africa.
He built vessels and fleets, and naval arsenals for
their supply. Attached to architecture, he erected
his celebrated Palace of Azhara,"" and the splendid
mosque in its vicinity."'^ He drew men of learning
to his court,"* and excited the same taste in the rich
and great who frequented it."'
Abderhaman died in 961 ; but his son, Al Ha
kem IL, continued his improvements. He sent agents
<^ M. Cond^, p. 460.
^ This was three leagues below Cordova, in a beautiful valley. The
arched roofs of the palace, were sustained by4300 columns of various mar
bles, carefully worked. All the pavements were composed of marbles of
many colors, tastefully contrasted. The walls were made and ornamented
in tbe same manner. The ceilings were painted with gold and azure. In the
large saloons, fountains of water played in basins of alabaster of variegated
shapes; and in the caliph's saloon was a fountain of jasper, in wbich a
golden swan was seen rising, wbich had been made at Constantinople,
with a pearl of great price suspended over its head, the gift ofthe Grecian
emperor. Beautiful gardens; an elegant pavibon, with a rivulet of
quicksilver to reflect the playful sunbeams as it glided ; elegant baths,
and carpets and drapery of silk and gold, representing cottage scenery
and animals ; increased the attractions of this costly edifice. Marie's
Cond^, 1. p. 419-421.
^' Tbe mosque was not so vast as that of Cordova, but much richer.
Ib. 421. He also constructed an aqueduct at Ecija; and the splendid
mosque at Segovia ; a sanctuary at Tarragona ; and several fountains,
hospitals and public baths, in other cities. At Cordova he added a
spacious court to its grand mosque, with several magnificent fountains,
pouring their streams among tbe palm and orange trees, which formed a
refreshing shade within its verdant and flowery extent, lb. 462.
^' He invited from Diarbekir, Ismael ben Casin, who was much dis
tinguished in the East, and made him preceptor to the Prince Al Hakem,
whose palace then became much resorted to by the friends of art. Ib. 463.
^ Thus his favorite, Ahmed ben Said, opened his house to all who
cultivated letters in Spain, especially to poets. The cadi, Aben Zarb,
invited men of science to his society; and the vizier Iza, in the same
way patronized the students of physical knowledge, as others favored
those who attached themselves to medicine. These were tbe founders
ofthe schools, from which in the next century Averroes arose. Ib. 463.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 375
into Africa, Egypt, Syria and Persia, to purchase the CHAP.
best books of all kinds. He rewarded those who ^^"
made donations of MSS. to his royal library. He
wrote himself to the authors of reputation in his time
for a copy of their works, and liberally remunerated
them, while he had copies made of the valuable vo
lumes which the possessors would not part with.'"
He promoted the most intellectual to posts of honor
and municipal duties, and even to a seat in his state
council.'' The royal taste for letters spread thro all
classes. Most of the chief towns formed several aca
demies, for the improvement of their inhabitants ;'^*
and Spain, during his reign, which lasted till 976,
exhibited an emulous cultivation of letters, which
had not appeared in Europe since the decline of the
Augustan age. Females imbibed the spirit, and added
the elegances of their taste and feelings to the other
riches of the Arabian literature.'^
'° Marie's Conde, Hist. v. 1. p. 472, 3. Casiri remarks, that Al Hakem
first established a royal library, and founded several academies. The
catalogue of his library filled 44 volumes. He got men of all kinds of
knowlege about him, and directed some to general historiography, some
to natural history, others to the Spanish animals, and some to write
the history of literature, Casiri. Bib. v. 2. p. 202.
" Marie's Cond^ p. 485. So he made Ahmed ben Abdelraelic, of
Seville, who had written a Treatise on government, and on the policy of
princes, the chief cadi of Cordova. To Ahmed ben Said, who had com
posed an history of Spain, he gave a handsome house at Azliara: and to
the popular poet El Arramedi, a superb mansion near the Alcazar, ib.
He rewarded largely Aben Perag, of Jaen, for his applauded collection
of poems, called ' The Gardens.' ib. 488,
'= M.Cond^, p. 484-491,
" Ib. 492, 3 ; and see before, note 52. The Arabs were fond of giving
their daughters significant names, like our Anglo-Saxons, as
Sobeiha, the dawn. Safra, choice and pure.
Redhiya, mild and pleasing. Naziha, delicious,
Nocima, gracious. " Kinza, a treasure.
Zahra, a flower. Kethira, fruitful.
Saida, happy, Maleha, beautiful.
Amina, faithful, Lobna, fan- as milk.
Selima, peaceful. Lulu, a peari.
Zahira, flowery. Maries, v. 2. p. 2.
B B 4
376
BOOK VI.
literary
historyof
ENGLAND. ¦
Sylvester H.
HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
In several of the great towns, Jews and Christians
lived intermingled with the Arabs. This was pecu
liarly the case in Toledo, which so often maintained
itself and the Mussulman leaders whom it upheld,
against the sovereign caliph.'* And this intermixture
of Spanish Christians, studying Arabic arid Arabian
learning, with the Mussulman population, established
an easy channel for the transfusion of Arabian science
into the European mind. By degrees, many persons
from other countries were attracted, by the reputa
tion of the Spanish Mohamedans, to visit them in
order to acquire their knowlege. One ofthe first of
these intellectual Columbuses who ventured to ex
plore what riches they possessed, and who imparted
to Europe the treasures he obtained, was Gerbert,
who became the Pope Sylvester II. The rumor of
the sciences of the Saracens having reached his ear,
he went into Spain to cultivate them,'* Returning to
France, he established schools there, taught what
he had exhibited, became preceptor to the princes of
'* See repeated instances of these in Marie's translation of Condi's
History, vol. 1. p. 154. 205. 220. 257. 274, &c, ' The great number of
Christians at Toledo were always ready to favor any insurrection against
the authority ofthe Musselmen.' p. 280,
" In his letters we see bis Spanish connexions and Arabian acquisi
tions. He writes to Lupito of Barcelona for the books on astrologia,
translated by him. 3 Bib. Mag. p. 700. He mentions the book on arith
metic, by Joseph the Spaniard, and the wise. p. 698. He says, on an
other occasion, that he had derived great advantage from the study of
philosophy, and was going to the princes of Spain, p. 706. He states,
that he had begun a sphere, with an horizon and a representation of the
heavens, p. 731- In one important letter he seems to me to allude to
the Arabian numerical arithmetic : ' How should I strive to explain the
reasons of the numbers of the abacus — The philosopher must not think
that these things without letters are contrary to some art or to themselves;
for what will he say esse digitos, articulos, minuta, who disdains to be
auditor raajorum — What, when ihe same number is now simple, now com
posite; now a digit (or unit), and now is made an articulus (or ten)?'
P- 735- This exactly suirs our present numerals, in which 1 is at one
time an unit, and at another constitutes a ten, as. all the other units, 2, 3,
&c, do with the addition of a cipher, 0,
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 377
France and Germany, distinguished himself for an CHAE>. Ia.
INTRODUCTION
tine Afer.
active and independent mind,'" and is said to have
recalled into his native country, arithmetic, music,
and geometry, which had become unknown. Her- of the
mannus Contractus, who died i 054, was another of ^''t^'*"
these ardent minds : He learnt Arabic, translated ^ — v —
into Latin several volumes both of Arabians and
Greeks, and wrote on astronomy and the quadrature
of the circle.'*
Constantine Afer had the courage to go farther; Constan
With an ardor for knowlege that has no parallel but
in Pythagoras, he visited the Saracens in Asia, and
passed there thirty-nine years in studying their as
tronomy, their medical and mathematical knowlege.
He came thence to Italy, and entered the monastery
at Mount Cassino in 1086, where he translated into
Latin several works of the Arabian physicians.'" The
'* Baronius is compelled to admit Gerbert among the popes, but he
does it with visible reluctance. He says that no one had been promoted
to the papal seat, who had so proscribed it by his writings. He gives us
a specimen of wbat he calls tbe borrenda blasphemia of Gerbert. It may
surprise the readerto find that this was Gerbert's assertion, tbat the Pope
was the Antichrist — the man of sin mentioned in the Thessaloniaus^a
remarkable opinion for the year 990. The harsh censures of Baronius
were, in the same century, balanced by the zealous defence of Bzovius, a
Franciscan, in his Sylvester II, Romae, 1629.
" Malmsbury, 1. 2. p, 65. says, 'he was the first who seized the aba
cus from the Saracens, and gave it rules which are scarcely yet under
stood by the toiling abacists.' — His two treatises on Geometry, &c. are
published by Pez, iu his Thesaur. Anecdot.; and his letter on the Sphere,
is in Mabillon Anecdot. His treatise de Abaco, or on Arithmetic, is yet
in MS. in Ottobonia Bibliotheca. Murat. Ant. p. 981, A collection of
his letters is in Mag. Bib. Pat. vol. 3. — Du Chesne, in his Hist. Franc,
vol. 2. has 55 additional letters. — ^The pretty tale ofhis magical chamber,
Malmsbury mentions rather seriously, p. 66,
" Trithemius Catal. lUust. Vir. p. 132 ; and see Fabricius Med. Lat.
p. 708. In his book on the Astrolabe, he confesses, that whatever he had
of astronomy, he had wholly borrowed it from the Arabs. Murat. Ant.
Ital. p. 934. His treatise de Astrolabio is in the Bodleian library, Digby,
N° 1775; and another, N" 1652.
" Fab. Bib. Graec. t. 13. p. 124. Trithemius de Script, p. 257. — Some
MSS. of his works are in the Hari. Lib. as his Loci Comm. Med. N" 1676 ;
his Viat, N" 3407; his Tract, Var. N" 3140; also in Bib, Bodl, Laud,
37» HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK pilgrimages and crusades, so reprobated by those
^ who have contemplated them superficially, brought
LITERARY the European mind to a full acquaintance with the
eI^olH^^ Arabian attainments ; and men arose fast, in every
' ¦' — ' country, emulous to learn, and benevolently assiduous
to impart them.
Other In the next century we find Hermannus Dalmatus
studentTof studying astronomy among the Mohamedans on the
Arabic, Ebro and at Leon,*" Peter, the abbot of Clugny,
went into Spain, to study the Arab learning ; and he
shews his proficiency by his translation of the Ara
bian Life of Mohamed, and procuring an English
man to translate the Koran, which he addressed to
the celebrated Bernard of Clairvaux.*' Gerard of
Cremona is another name which deserves our grati
tude and celebrity, for the many important Arabian
works, which, by his Latin versions, he made the
property of Europe.**
England had its full share in producing these lite
rary enthusiasts, to whom our intellectual eminence
1507. — Some years ago (in 1811) in the library of Monte Cassino, was
found a Greek MS. of Apollonius Evander, the nephew of Apollonius of
Rhodes, which contains a full account ofthe eruption of Vesuvius in the
reign of Titus.
™ The letter of Peter of Clugny to Bernard, mentions this Arabic scho
lar: ' Hermanno quoque Dalmata acutissimi et literati ingenii scholas-
tico.' -The treatises on the Doctrine and Education of Mohamed, printed
with the Koran, mentioned in the following note, are those which trans-
tulit Hermannus Dalmata — apud Legionentem Hispanis civitatem. p.20l .
" Machumetis Alcoranum Bibliandri. — This publication contains the
letter of Peter to Bernard, in which he says, that while be staid in Spain,
be procured the version to be made by a scholar of Toledo : ' Because
the Latin was less known to him than the Arabic, he had his verba latina,
impolite vel confuse plerumque,' polished and arranged. Ep.
" The translation of Alhazen de Crepusculis, is by him. p. 283. — He
died 1 187, set. 73. F. Pipinus says of him, that, led by his love of know
lege, he went to Toledo, and seeing the Arabic books, and the penury of
the Latins on such subjects, he learnt the Arabian language. There are
seventy-six books of hiS translation, among wbich are Avicenna, and
Ptolemy's Almagest. There is also his commentary on the Theoiicura
Planetarum. Murat. Ant. Ital. p. 936.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 379
is so deeply indebted. The translation of the Koran, chap.
noticed above, was the production of Robert Rete- '_
NENSis, an Englishman, who went to Spain, and was intro-
found, by the abbot of Clugny, on the Ebro, studying of the
astronomy with Hermannus.*' He became archdeacon ^^-'^'^^^''^
'' _ sciences.
of P ampeluna. He translated also an Arabian Chro- .^; — --- — '
nicle.** The abbot of Clugny rewarded him liberally students.
for his labors.**
Another Englishman, distinguished for his Arabian Athelard's
studies, was Athelard of Bath, whose work still re- treatise?
mains in our public libraries, and has been printed.*"
He says, in his philosophical dialogue with his ne
phew, that he left England for the sake of study, and
returned to it in the reign of Henry I. His anxiety
to learn the moral and political state of his native
country, was suppressed by the unfavorable represen
tation which he received of its vices. He told his ne
phew, that it was wise to forget what they could not
remedy ; *' and he is desired to state some results of
his new Arabian studies.
'^ Peter of Clugny says of Robert and Herman, ' quos in Hispania
circa Hiberam, astrologicae artis studentes, inveni.' — He calls him Ro
bertus Retenensis de Anglia qui nunc Papilonensis ecclesise archidiaconus
est.' Ep.
"* It is in the Bodleian library, Seld. Sup. 8l. The translation of Alkin-
dus is by another Robert, an Englishman, who lived in 1272. Cod. MSS.
Ashm. 6677.
'^ Eosque ad hsec faciendum multo precio conduxi. Pet. Ep. Robert
addresses his translation of the Koran to Peter, and ends his dedication
thus, ' Illustrissimo que Viro P. C. abbate precipiente, suus Angligena
Robertus Retenensis librum istum transtulit, a, d. 1 143.'
¦* Athelard's Dialogue on questiones naturales perdilficiles, is in the
Cotton Lib. MS. Galba, E 4. I have two printed copies, wbich some
former owner has marked — sine anno — duae editiones antiqute, Collat. et
complet. — and says, ' supposed by De Bure to be printed at Louvan, by
J. de Westphalia, about 1474.'
" ' Uiiica enim inalorum irrefragabilium medicina est oblivio.' Athel
The evils he deplored were violentes principes ; viuolentespresules; mer
cenaries judices ; patronos inconstantes; privatos adulatores; mendaces
promissores; invidiosos araicos; ambitiosos fere omnes. Athel.
HISTORYOF ENGLAND.
380 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK He reminds his nephew, that, seven years before,
j_ he had left him pursuing his Gallic, by which we may
LITERARY presumc is meant Norman, studies,** while Athelard
himself went to explore the Saracen philosophy.*'
A short exordium leads him to confer on many of
those points of natural knowlege which he had studied
in Spain. We may smile at some of the questions
on which he took the trouble of enlightening his ne
phew, as — why herbs do not grow from water, air,
and fire, as well as from earth ; why men have not
horns like other animals ; why we go erect ; why we
do not walk as soon as we are born ; why our fingers
are unequal, and our hand hollow; why we are
nourished by milk; why the nose is placed over the
mouth; whether the stars are animated, and if so,
do they eat But some ofhis other topics, as — the
nature of the senses, the nerves and veins — the cause
of earthquakes, ofecHpses, and of the tides; — why
the sea is salt ; why the rivers do not increase it ; the
origin of the winds, thunder, and lightnitig ; how the
earth is sustained in air — whether brutes have souls
— why joy should cause weeping ; why men of ge
nius should want memory, and those of memory,
genius ; and why the seat of fancy, reason, and re
membrance, should be in the brain. These inquiries
were the first beams of awakening curiosity after
natural knowlege ; and Athelard, with all the defi
ciencies and absurdities of his little treatise, must be
looked on as the father of natural philosophy in Eng
land. He was the first herald of its approach. His
books are the earliest records we have of the discus-
" Meministi, nepos, septennio jam transacto, cum te in gallitis studiis
pene puerum juxta laudarissimum, &c. Athel.
™ Ut Arabum studia pro posse meo scrutarer. Athel.
DUCTION
OF THE
SCIENCES.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 381
sion of such subjects in this country.®" Tho not abun- CHAP.
dantly wise in all his opinions and inquiries, yet he ^"
discusses his topics with the air of a man who feels intro-
that he has burst from the swathing-bands of autho
rity. He talks boldly of the privileges and utility of ak^b'an
reason, and contemptuously of those who submit to
slumber in a bestial credulity ; a language which
announces the beneficial eflfect of the Arabian con
quests on the intellect of Europe. But, aware of the
personal danger of such freedom, he guards himself,
by reminding his nephew, that his opinions must be
considered as those of the Arabians, and that he is
pleading their cause, and not his own. The absurdity
of some of his topics, and the weakness of some of
his reasoning, were, perhaps, better adapted to tempt
the absolute ignorance of the European mind, in its
first rude state, to the cultivation of natural knowlege,
than wiser tuition. A Newton would be the worst
possible preceptor to a Laplander. There would be
no point of contact between them. But a mixture of
nurse-tales and philosophy, all believed to be grave
and important knowlege, would fasten on the appre
hension, and please the taste of an uncultivated mind,
far better than pure reason and science, which can
only be attained by slow and painful progress. The
book of Athelard may have first kindled the curiosity
of many subsequent inquirers, and cannot have been
contemptible or useless to his contemporaries, since
in the fifteenth century, in the infancy of the typogra
phical art, it was thought worthy to be printed twice,
above four hundred years after his death. Athelard's
»° As be begins it with saying, ' Cum in Angliam nuper redierim, Hen
rico Guillermi anglis imperante,' it must have been written before 11 35,
when Henry I. died.
382 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK translations of Euclid, and some astronomical works
^^' from the Arabic into Latin, are in the public libraries
LITERARY at Oxford."'
en'gland.'^ The next person, after Athelard, in England, whose
' ¦' ¦ name has survived to us for having attended to the
Arabian subject of natural philosophy, is William de Conchis,
pursued in about 1 1 40 ; he wrote his " Philosophia on natural
iigiand. Questions,"* and also a dialogue with Henry II, in-
titled, " De Coelo." "' In 1 1 85, we had a student in
London capable of translating from the Arabic, the
book of I^tolemy on the Astrolabe ; ^ and about 1 1 90,
Daniel Morley, after studying at Paris, went to Ara
bian Spain to learn the mathematical sciences, and
studied at Toledo. He composed two books on the
upper and lower parts of the world,*^ and others on
the mathematics."" Sometime afterwards appeared
our Michael Scot, the wizard of our northern ballads,
and of the elegant Lay of the last Minstrel."'
The exertions of these active-minded men, and of
similar adventurers, quickly introduced Arabian learn-
°' His other MSS. now remaining are, ' de Philosophia Danielis,' in
Oriel College, Ox. N° 859 ; his translation of Euclid from "the Arabic, in
Coll. S. Trin. at Oxford, N° 1967; his Isagoge of Japhar on Astronomy,
taken from the Arabic, in the Bodleian library, N° 1669; his transladon
of Euclid's Elements, in fifteen books, from the Arabic, N° 3359. 3623;
the Tables of El Kauresmi, from the Arabic, N°4137,
^' This exists still in MS. in the Bodl. Library, Dig. N° 1705 ; and
C. C. C. Ox. 1562, -where he is called 'alias Shelly.'
'' The IMS. of this work was in the Florence library, and is mentioned
in its catalogue, v. 2. p. 63,
^* I learn this fact from the catalogue of the Bodleian library, which,
among the MSS. Digby, has this article, N° 1641. ' Ptolemaei liber de
compositione Astrolabii, translatus de Arabico in Latinum, ]E,va I185,
in civit. London.' Cat. MSS. Angl. p. 78.
'5 These Works, intitled, 'de inferiori, and de superiori parte mundi,'
are in MS. in the library C. C. C. Oxford, N" 1562. He there remarks,
' When I lately went from England for the sake of study.'
** ' De Principiis Mathematicis.' Tanner Bib. 532.
^ He was patronized by the emperor Fred. IL Muratori mentions,
that in the Ambrosian library at Milan, was a treatise he wrote at the
emperor's request. Ant, It, p. 945,
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 383
ing into England. We find the Commentary of Aver- CHAP.
roes on Aristotle actually lectured upon, near Cam- 1.
bridge, about the close ofthe twelfth century ;°* and
about the same period, among the books of Benedict
the abbot of Peterborough, we perceive Almanzor, an
Arabian book on the virtues of plants."" At the close
of the next age, we read of an archbishop giving to
his church at Peterborough the works of Avicenna.""
But it is in the compositions of Friar Bacon, who
was born in 1214, and who learnt the Oriental lan
guages, that we discover the most extensive acquaint
ance with the Arabian authors. He quotes Albuma-
zar, Averroes, Avicenna, Alpharabius, Thabeti ben
Corah, Hali, Alhacen, Alkindi, Alfraganus, and
Arzachel : and seems to have been as familiar with
them as with the Greek and Latin classics, especially
with Avicenna, whoni he calls the chieftain and
prince of philosophy."' Bishop Greathead, the friend
of Bacon, the spirited assertor of the liberties of the
English church against the papal encroachments,
also quotes Albumazar, Averroes, and Avicenna."*
Thus that the stream of mind from Arabia into Eng
land, and of new intellectual excellence thence aris
ing, commenced the true improvement of our country
in its scientific pursuits, cannot be doubted.
We cannot now ascertain the precise causes which
at that peculiar period inclined the English mind to
make Mohamedan science and Mohamedan authors
*' Pet. Bles, contin. Ingulf, 1 Gale .Script, p, I14.
^ Hugo Candidus, ed. Speake, p, 39,
"™ Walt, Whytleseye, ed. Sp. p. 170.
"" See his Opus Majus, edited by Jebb ; and his other tracts in various
places, "« In his treatise de Art. Liberal, and his Commentary upon Aristotle,
printed in Venice 1514, with Gwalter Burley's Commentary, who died
1337-
niSTORYOF ENGLAND,
384 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK a favorite study. It was more natural and far easier
^^' for our ancestors to have obtained and enjoyed the
LITERARY Grecian originals and the beautiful classics of the
Athenian genius, after they had become familiar with
the Roman imitations and competitors of these mas
terly elFusiojis of human taste and talent.
Yet they left this rich and new harvest untouched,
and even unexplored, tho its language had such kin
ship with their well-known Latin, and could therefore
have been attained and its manuscripts procured with
far less labor and expense than Arabic knowlege and
tuition. In considering what circumstances then ex
isting operated on the disposition and curiosity of
the day, to direct the studious intellect in England
to those Mussulman teachers, whose religion and
manners they abhorred and reprobated, we may re
collect that the Crusades, by the negotiations, wars,
dealings, and captivities which they occasioned, pro
duced continual intercourse ; that Becket's father had
been for some time a prisoner with a Saracen emir,
and that the Arab's daughter became the mother,
and therefore the first instructor of the saint ; "^ that
the emperor Frederic the Second's patronage of Ma
hometans in his court, administration, and army, espe
cially in Sicily"* which the English so much fre
quented after the visit of Richard I."* for commerce,
curiosity, and crusading, could not but cause a fre
quent mixture of Mussulman and English society ;
that the knights templars and hospitallers, who were
charged in that day with secret connexions and rriys-
terious congenialities with the Saracen chiefs and
'"' See the 1st volume of this History, p. 221.
'"' See the 2d vol. of this History, p. 21 and 22.
•»Ib. vol.1, p. 439.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 305
system which they had been established to oppose,"" cii ap,
had all the influence of great landed property in ^^•
England and other parts of Europe ; "' that John
had projected alliance with the Mussulman sovereign
of Morocco; "* that his son Henry III, corresponded
with the sultan of Damascus,"" and was applied to by
the Saracen caliph for his help against the Tartars.""
These facts are the indications that the incidents
of the times were frequently bringing the English
and Mussulman minds into business and acquaint*
ance with each other, which gradually lessened their
mutual antipathies and stimulated the curiosity of
the inquisitive. In addition to these notices we may
remark, that the position and new tastes and studies
of the Jews, may have also been among the still
earlier means of drawing the two opposing classes
into an approximation towards each other, and of
being a kind of bridge to lead many, both in Eng
land and Europe, into a degree of mental fraterni
zation with Islam studies and most celebrated works.
From this possibility, a few facts and observations
"* Van Hanmer's work upon the Knights Templars gives many proofs
of this fact. The letter of the emperor Frederic II. to the earl of Corn-
^ wall, brother of Henry III. charges the templars with a treacherous asso
ciation with the snidans of Damascus and Cracey. He adds, ' It was shewn
manifestly to us by some religious men, that these soldans and their fol
lowers were received within the cloisters of the mansions of the temple,
cum alacritate pomposa.' — ^The emperor even charges them with the ' in-
vocatione Mahometi.' Ep. Ap. Matt. Paris, p. 619.
"" M. Paris asserts, that in 1244 ' the templars had 9OOO manors, and
the hospitallers 19,000 manors in Christendom, besides various emolu
ments and incomes, arising from their fraternities and preachings, and
accruing from their privileges.' p. 615.
As a parallel to .this, we may recollect the conduct of John's contem
porary Sancho VI. king of Navarre. He sought in marriage the daughtei"
of the sovereign of Morocco, and even entered into his service, and
brought Saracens into his Navarrese territory, whom the Christians at
last drove out.
"•» See this History, v. 1. p, 427. '°» Rym. Fed. v, 1, p. 389,
"° Matt. Paris, 471. Taxter MS. Chron. 36-42.
Vol. IV. C c
38(5 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK concerning this singular people in England, and their
^^' literature in the middle ages, may make the view of
LITERARY our owH intcUectual advancement more complete.
ENG™AND,*^ Coming into this island from Rouen, under Wil-
^~rr — ' liam the Conqueror, the Jeavs remained here above
Literature, two ccnturics, Until they were expelled by Edward I.
in 1290.'" They were favored by Henry II. more
than the prejudices of many thought right,"* and
having spread into various parts of~the country, be
came every where the wealthy dealers in bullion and
money. We find them mentioned, at Lincoln, Nor
thampton, Rumsey, Marlbro, Andover, Derby, and
Oxford."' They were also at Norwich, York, and
Stamford, as well as in various parts of London."*
The king exercised the right of granting their chief
priesthood in London,"' as well as of taking it away.""
They had been so rich in France in the twelfth cen
tury, as to be the owners of half the city of Paris,"'
before they were expelled from it, at first in 1182,"*
'" See our preceding note on the Jews, v. 2. p. 121.
"" This king ' Judeos fenerantes, plus justo favit.' Chron. I Gale,
p. 513. — He ' gave leave to the Jews to have a burying-ground in every
city without the walls. Before this, all dead Jews were taken to London,
to be buried there.' Hoveden, p. 568.
'" Cal. Rot. pp. 28. 37. 35. 38. 49. 32. 46,
'" 1 Gale Script. 28. 34. Cal. Rot. 90. 92.
"* See grant of Edw. I. in Cal. Rot. p. 49.
"* In tbe Tower rolls is a record, by wbich Henry III, for three marcs
of gold re,stored to the bishop of the Jews at London his sacerdotium, of
which, for certain transgressions,' be had been adjudicatus before the
king's justice: it directs also, on the election of this priest, the presenta
tion of him to the king, and obtaining the royal assent. Cal. Rot. p. 29.
The English barons made it a part of the provisions, which in 1244
they obtained from Henry III. tbat besides adding two justices to the
king's bench and two barons to the exchequer, there should be also ap
pointed a justiciarius for the Jews ; a most important civil privilege and
benefaction, which ensured them legal justice.
'" Rigordus, p. 164-7.
"° Ib. Their synagogues were then purified and turned into churches.
By this means Orleans got its church, and so Etampes, Ib. They had
been exterminated from France before, in tbe reign of Dagobert. Ib,
p, 167. Greg. Tours, 368.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. ^Q^
and finally in 1252."" Their great wealth in Eng- chap.
land, occasioned them to be perpetually attacked and ^^¦
persecuted. That they prohibited their children from learning-
Greek, we read in their own venerated authorities,^*"
and that they abhorred the language and literature of
their Roman destroyers, we need not doubt, from the
still greater stimulus of their national hatred of those
who had driven them from their beloved and sacred
land. Indeed their extravagant idea of their own — in
our estimation most barren and sapless — teachers,
would be sufficient to preclude them from all improve
ment from the other source of knowlege which sur
rounded them.^** But yet, bigotted as they were to
their own scanty produce, and prejudiced asthey-long
continued to be against all that was better, yet in
the twelfth century, their students began to relax so
far as to think at last that Arabian knowlege and Mus
sulman teachers were not unworthy of their atten-
tion, nor degrading to their pride to learn from.
Hence, while they despised or hated Greek and Rot
man and Christian literature, we find them at that
time, and for some time afterwards, translating the
works of the Mohamedans from the Arabic into
'" Mat. Paris, 86l. M. West. 252.
'" TheMishna mentions, tbat ' in the wars of Titus they decreed that
no Jew should teach his son Greek;' Sett. c. 9. s, 14.; and a com.menta-
toron this, says, ' Cursed is be who breeds swine, and who teaches his
son Greek,' which they call Javauith. Bartol. Bib, Rah. v, 1. p. 2,
'^' Thus of their Rabbi Eliezer, whom they call the Great, not con
tented with asserting — what other nations might allow — 'If all the wise
men of Israel were put into one scale and Rabbi Eliezer in the other, he
would outweigh them all ;' they chose also to declare, with all the sub
limity of rhetorical nonsense, ' If the heavens were to become parchment,
and all the trees of Lebanon to be made into pens, and all the waters of
the ocean were to be ink, they would not sufiice to describe His wis
dom,' Bartol, Bib, Rab. 18,5. c c 2
388 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK Hebrew, for the instruction of their own people,'** and
^^- into Latin for the pleasure, fame and profit of teach-
LiTERARY lug thc Christlau scholars of Europe, by their supe-
uisTORYOF ^.Jqj, attainments,^*' When their academies at Babylon
' — •• — ' were broken up,'** their schools at Toledo, in Spain,
became more resorted to.'** They made a singular
decree at Barcelona, that no Jewish youth should
study philosophy before his twentieth year.'*" But
this only prevented those premature attainments,
which oftener preclude future knowlege by early
conceit. Their students gradually enlarged their sub
jects of inquiry, and travelled into various countries.
One of their most celebrated scholars, Aben Erza,
visited England in the reign of Henry II.'*' In Spain
'°^ Thus in 1158 Rabbi Moses Ben Josuab translated into Hebrew
Abubaker's Philosophical Treatises, and Al Gazel's works on Logic, Pro
vidence, and the Divine Unity. Rabbi Moses Ebu. Tibb, in 1 190
made similar versions of several Arabian authors, R. Samuel so inter
preted Alpharabius de Principiis Naturalibus, and on the Essence of
tbe Soul. R, Jacob, Avicenna's works on tbe Sphere and Medicine, and
Alpharabius de Syllogismo. Other Hebrews translated Alchasin on Astro
nomy, and Aviceiina's Anatomy and de Anima. Bartol. Bib. Rab. vol. 1.
P- 3; l'^3. ,5- 7- 6- 1" 1210, B. Moses translated Ewc/irf into Hebrew,
and Abucha commentary on Aristotle, p. 95; and in 1307, R.Isaac
gave A similar version to Al Gazel's work on Philosophical Opinions;
ib, p. 3; and in 1451, R. Bausel so translated Abu Achmet's book, ' de
Arithmetica.' p. 3.
"^ Several of these Latin translations of the Arabian authors have been
printed, and bear the names of their Jewish writers. Besides these, we
find that R.Judas, in 1256, translated Avicenna on the Stars; and
R. Kolonimes, between 1311 and 1326, made versions of the works of
Averroes on Natural Investigations ; on Metaphysics, and on Aristotle
de Anima. Bartol. 1. p. 7 & 13,
'^* On this academy, see Bartol. Bib. Rab. v. 1. p. 486. The last
rabbi at Babylon was there in 1038. After flourishing 341 years, this
famous school was destroyed; but similar ones were soon raised up
elsewhere, and especially in Spain. Ib. p. 700.
'" See Bartol. p. 493. Spain and Toledo became the places of refuge
to the Jewish literati, when persecuted elsewhere, as, to Rabbi Baruel in
1202; ib,p.695; and to R. Ascher in 1307. Flying out of Genuany to
Toledo, Ascher was. made head of the school there, and died in that
situation in 132I, Ib. 493, 4. 502.
'* Bartol. p. 500.
™ He visited also France, Italy, and Greece, and died about 1 194 in
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES.
they assumed the ennobling name of Don,'** and one
of them became a king of Portugal's privy council
lor.'*"
Rhodes. He was deemed a great philosopher. Besides his celebrated
Commentary on the Bible, he wrote also on Algebra, Astronomy, Arith
metic, Astrology, and many other subjects. Bartol. p. 37.
"" Bartolocci justly remarks, that altho modern Jews assume the title
of Don in Spain, yet the more ancient rabbis did not. p. 713. Yetin the
Shalshaletli, one so early as I190 is called Don Salmon. Ib. p. 712.
'*" This was Don Ghedalia, whom the king invited out of Castile, on
account of his political intelligence. It was he who, when tbe Spanish
king invaded Portugal, advised his new master not to fight his enemies,
but to let them waste T""y ir t^tt fff"^°"Y campaign, Bart, p. 714.
389
CHAP, IX.
-T.
300 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
CHAP. X.
Arabian Subject continued — Intellectual Character of the
Arabs — Avicenna's Works — Al Gazel's- — Their natural
History — Uses of Gunpowder — Paper — Arabian Logic.
BOOK Xhe Arab philosophers were men who combined,
'_ with an acuteness and activity of mind that has ne^
Intellec- ver been surpassed, all the knowlege which industry
racter of could thcu attain. What they knew, they knew tho-
the Arabs, roughly ; they reasoned with Subtlety, but they made
their knowlege the foundation of their logic. There
is a clearness, a penetration, an information, and a
correctness about their reasoning, which spreads a
brightness over every subject they handle. To the
patient investigation of the Alexandrian mathemati
cians, they united the active subtlety of the Grecian
sophist ; but poured at the same time, from their dis
cursive intellects, all the natural information which
their chemical and mineralogical researches could
then supply. They refused no labor in the acquisi
tion of knowlege or the discovery of truth ; and it
was this combination of mathematic, logical, and ex
perimental mind, which so rapidly improved them
selves, and from them has so highly exalted the intel
lect of Europe. They were true philosophers. They
loved intellectual pursuits, from an intense feeling of
their excellence. They believed the perfection of the
human nature to rest in these, and they struggled
unwearied to attain them. If they have ceased to be
the intellectual teachers of the world, it has been,
because they suffered their minds to be too much
sciences.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 391
fettered by the Aristotelian predicaments, which chap.
often drew them into useless verbal disquisitions, ^'
and to look at nature thro the spectacles of logic ; intro-
and because knowlege has so greatly accumulated of the
since their day, as to make them but children in Arabian
science, to us, their more fortunate disciples. They
were superior to the Greeks, by combining their
logic and metaphysics with experimental philoso
phy ; and for the nobler religious principles, which
some of them infused into their reasonings.' The
Grecian philosophers knowing few physical facts,
their ingenuity wasted itself upon definitions, distinc
tions and refinements, that were but skirmishes of
words. The Arabs, with minds as agile as their
Greek masters, happily deviating into a taste for na
tural knowlege, reasoned more justly, more usefully,
and more intelligibly. The universality of their re
searches and attainments is also wonderful. We have
far excelled them in every separate path of inquiry ;
but no man has appeared since Avicenna,* Alchindi,'^
' As, Alchindi's ' Quod anima sit substantia simplex et immortalis' —
and ' Primi agentis, sive Dei, existentia demonstratur,' Casiri, p. 355 ;
the quod anima sit incorporea, and de extremo judicii die, of Rasis,
p. 263 ; Alkhatheb's book de creatione et resurrectione, p. 1 82 ; Avicenna
on the soul, called his golden work, in wbich he maintains that it does
not die with the body; and Al Gazel's works, mentioned below.
' Casiri has inserted the life of Avicenna, from his Arabian biographer,
in his Bibliotheca, p. 268, and the Arabian catalogue of his diversified
works, p. 270. The extent ofhis popular celebrity may be inferred from
his magical feats in the Persian and Arabian tales.
^ The Arabian catalogue of Alchindi's works is indeed multifarious, as
the heads under which they are distributed will shew : —
16 treatises under Opera Philosophica.
9 - . - Logica.
11 - - Arithmetica.
8 - - Sphaerica.
6 - - - Musica.
17 - - - Astronomica.
21 - - . Geometrica.
10 - - - de Orbe celesti.
22 Medica. (continued.)
c c 4
392
Avicennaand Al
Gazel'sworks.
HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
Alpharabius,* Al Khatib,^ Thabet ben Corah," or
Avenpace,' who has pursued so many subjects of
investigation, and written on all with so much dis
cernment and ability. They were literally encyclope-
distes.* Many of the works of Avicenna ;" the Commen
taries of Averroes on Aristotle," the admirable trea-
9 treatises under Astrologica.
11 5
11
10 7
29
Problematica. de Anima.
Politica. Metereologica.
Optica.
Chemica, Physica, &c. Casiri, 353-356.
' See the long list of the varied works of Alpharabius, in Casiri, p, 190.
. ° Fakhereddin Ebn Alkhathib, called Alcabitius, was so rewarded by
the king of Khorasan, that he left to his heirs 80,000 pieces of gold,
Casiri, p, 182; who adds the Arabian catalogue of his numerous com
positions. ^ Commonly named Thebit. From the profuse list of his works,
Casiri, 386-389, he seems to bave discussed most subjects of philoso
phical inquiry.
' Abu Jaaffar, in the preface to liis interesting Hai Ebn Yokdan, classes
the first Arabian scholars in Spain as of the mathematical school. He
says, ' after them came a generation of men, who applied themselves more
to the art of reasoning, in which they excelled all their predecessors.
After these appeared others, who advanced still farther to the truth,
among whom ncme made nearer approaches than Avenpace.' p. 13. —
Abu Jaaffar's work is the romauce of a man bred up by a goat in a soli
tary place, and reasoning himself into a knowlege ofthe Suprerne.
" Is-aia Ben Fr'aigen, of Corduba, in 1002 actually became one; for
Casiri mentions that he composed an ' Encyclopedia, in which the rules
of almost all the sciences are discussed in lines and circles, briefly, but
with wonderful art.' Bib. p. 380.
" The medical works of Avicenna fill a large folio in Latin, Medicine
owes entirely to him its use of tamarinds, rhubarb, sugar, cinnamon, &c.
Casiri, p. 272. His Logica, Metaphysica, &c. are printed in a separate
volume. " Averroes was born in Corduba. He is considei-ed as the best of all
tbe Arabian commentators •on Aristotle, He was the pupil of Ibnu Tho-
fail, who died 1173. Fab. Bib. Grasc. 13. p. 280. Several works of
Averroes bave been translated into Latin, aud printed. He is also
called Ebn Roschid. His paraphrase on Plato's RepubHc was put into
Latin by a Jew physician, J. Mantinus. His treatise, ' de simplic. Me
dic' was published in 1531, in folio. He finished bis ' Theologia Dog-
matica,' in 1178. Casiri, 184.
DUIUNG THE MIDDLE AGES, 393
tises of Al Gazel, and several other of the Arabian C IIA P,
compositions, have been printed in Latin translations, ^-
and are therefore accessible to all. Of these, I have intro-
been most impressed with the genius and reasonings
of the latter." Al Gazel's philosophy is of the best
sort ; it exhibits all the Arabian acuteness, injured
only by the categories of the Peripatetic school. It
aspires to establish the noble principles ofthe creating
Deity;'* and the immortality of the human soul.
When Proclus reasons, you have an obscure subtlety,
a labyrinth of phrase, which at times defies compre
hension, and seems worthless when understood. In
Al Gazel, you see a philosopher reasoning as subtilely,
" The Logica and Philosophia of Al Gazel are printed in one vo
lume, Venice 1506. In this work is the following passage : ' We say that
all utility is vile in comparison of eternal felicity — the felicity of another
hfe. This happiness must depend on the perfection of the soul; which
will consist of two things — purity and ornament. To be pure, the soul
must he purged from alt sordid manners, and be kept from all base phan
tasies. For its adorning, the certainty of truth should be so depicted on
it, as that divine truths may be revealed to it. The mind is a mirror,
which cannot be perfect unless the most beautiful forms appear in it.'
'^ Al Gazel concludes a chain of subtle reasoning thus — ' It follows,
then, that the source of all things is that which is necesse per se; which
is one entirely ; and whose being is from itself. So that he is the true
and pure Being in himself, and the origin of every other. He therefore is
perfect. — ^and the most perfect. All things whatsoever have their exist
ence from him, and the comparison of other beings, to his Being, is as
the comparison of the light of other bodies to the glory of the sun : For
the sun shines by itself, and not by another illumining it. As that is the
fountain of light to all lucidity, so with him, the first Being, are the keys
of all science, and from him proceed the wisdom and knowlege of every
thinking being. He who is blessed for ever, knows all the possible and
the contingent. Nothing is so small as to escape his notice. But for
HIS comprehension, there is no comparison. Angels are always in the
contemplation of his perfections, and therefore their delight has no end.
From their propinquity to the Lord of Ages, their joy transcends our joy.
To obey iiim, to behold him, to love him, constitutes their glory and their
felicity — and when we shall be separated from this body by death, our
enjoyment will be as perfect. That which is now hidden will then be
revealed; our happiness will continue for ever; we shall attain to the
sublimest truths, and we shall be the companions of the angels m their
propinquity to the Primeval Troe One, not in locaUty merely, but m
aff'eclion and beneficence.'— This passage is taken from Al Gazel s chap
ter ' on the Cause of Universal Being, which is Deus altissimus.
HISTORYOFENGLAND
394 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK but more closely than the Greek, and always with in-
^^- telligible thought, and from correct facts. He is ever
LITERARY strlvlug to basc his reasoning on experimental truths.
His work at the same time exercises and improves
the understanding, and kindles an ardent curiosity for
natural knowlege.'* Some of the Arabian students in
time abused their own acuteness, by supporting opi
nions averse from true philosophy, and incompatible
with the happiness of society. These mistaken men,
perverting the minds and corrupting the principles of
many, excited the disapprobation of the better part of
their own people, and made science disreputable and
suspected.'* The jealousy of their government, and
the bigotry of their priesthood, were influenced by a
perception ofthe mischief. Persecution followed, and
their philosophy ruined itself by its abuse. Turkish
barbarism despised it in the East ; the brutal savage-
ness of the Moorish temper extinguished it in Africa ;
and the expulsion of the Mohamedans from Spain,
banished it from Europe. The love of knowlege has
how wholly deserted the Mussulman mind, and we
only know of what the genius of Arabia has been ca
pable, from the dusty treasures of our libraries,'^ which
" Al Gazel was called by his countrymen the Imam Alalem, or tbe
Imaura ofthe world. — the man who practised what he taught — who of all
others feared most to offend bis Maker — the Doctor ofthe spiritual world.
Being once asked how he had acquired his extraordinary knowlege, he
answered, ' by never having been ashamed to inquire when I was igno
rant.' D'Herbelot, voc. Gazali.
" Thus Ehl Eltahkek taught that there was no God but tbe four ele
ments — no soul and no Hfe after the present. Abu Moslema was one of
his followers. So the Zindikites asserted that there was no Providence,
and no resurrection, and that all which we see, and al^ that exists, is the
Deity. Piet.de la Valle. Bayle, 1. p. 38; 3. p. 2767.
" When I observe how rich tbe Bodleian library is in Arabic MSS,
I am surprised that no one out of its numerous students bas attempted
to give from them an intelligent history of Arabian literature and science,
as the French have done in their ' Notice des MSS.'
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 395
we, forgetful of our great benefactors, and proud of chap,
our superior affluence, never pause to examine, and ^'
rarely condescend to praise,'" ' intro-
Some of the Arabians and Persians also cultivated, of'th'e"'
tho not with much frequency or enthusiasm, Natu- Arabian
TT A 1 T» 1 T> • 1 ¦ 1 SCIENCES.
RAL History, Abu Kehan, a Persian, who is stated ^ — ^.. —
to have travelled forty years in India, wrote on pre- Natural
cious stones. He had been taught by the Bramins, History.
and understood the languages both of Hindostan and
Greece," Others writ on gems and trees; and several
on animals.'* One on hawks and hunting. They
were more elaborate in their treatises on agriculture.
Ebu Auan collected from every source the best in
formation on this subject.'*
Avicenna, amid the multiplicity of his studies,
observed and wrote on animals ; and his work was
translated into Latin by the celebrated magician or
conjurer of the middle ages, but who was really more
'° It may be useful to add the times in wbich some ofthe chief Arabian
philosophers lived : —
Albumazar - - - died - A.C. 894.
Alchindi died 901.
Thabeti Ben Corah - born - - 835.
Rasis - - died - 932.
Albategnius - - - died - - 929.
Alpharabius - - died 961.
Ahulhassan died 986.
Avicenna - - - born - 979.
- died - - 1036.
Al Gazel - - born 1072.
died - - 1126.
Averroes - died - - 12 17.
Avenpace - - ¦ died 1155-
Alcabitius - - died - 1228.
Beithar - - died 1248.
" He lived in the tenth century. — Casiri Bib. 332.
'« Ib. 318-20.
" Casiri has given a good and full account of the Arabian writers ou
agriculture, p. 323. One author places the first use of Coffee at Mecca,
in 859. The Arabs called it Cahue, from a word signifying abstinence,
because it enabled them to bear watchings and hunger. Ib 173. Casiri
Bib. 48»-5l ; and Pref p. 9.
39G
HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK VI.
LITERARY
HISTORYOFENGLAND,
a wizard in his attainments than in his powers.*" In
this the Arabian philosopher has curiously marked
the moral difference of animals.*' Some of his obser
vations are peculiar,** but these works have the interest
of shewing us the vastsuperiority of modern science.
His treatise on the Soul was highly estimated,*'
and is certainly superior to any former philosophical
work on that subject. It contains a few physical
observations,** and much Arabian acuteness, but is
too much in the scholastic style of thought and
" This was tbe redoubted Michael Scot, The printed title of the
work expresses it to be ' The book of Avicenna on Animals, translated
from Arabic into Latin by Magister Michael Scot,' who thus addresses
it to the German emperor: ' Frederic! Lord; Emperor of the World!
receive, devote, this book of Michael Scot, May it be a grace to thy
head and a torques to thy neck!'
^' Thus: 'Some animals have very little anger, as the cow; others
shew vehement folly and sharp rage, as the boar: some are pious and
clean, as the camel ; or cunning in their wicked motions, like the serpent.
Lions are brave and magnanimous. Wolves, strong, ingenious, surly and
savage. Foxes display ingenuity, but with evil designs. Dogs have fury,
but are laborious, and are useful to men. Some animals are very astute
and familiar, as apes aud elephants. Others bashful and cautious, as tbe
goose. Some, like the peacock, are envious and great admirers of their
own beauty ; and others, like the camel and the ass, have very good
memories.' Avic. de Animal, p. 29.
?" He attempts Physiognomy: ' Tbe eyes chiefly shew the character
ofthe soul. If the lacrymale domesticum is of a moderate size, it marks
astuteness: if it has much flesh, as sometimes in the kite, it shews an
evil subtiety. He who has eyebrows hanging over, is envious. Middling-
sized eyes indicate goodness and purity. If extending forwards, they
shew a fool ; if deep-seated, subtlety. A man who can Tceep his eyes open
a long time without a feeling of shame, is silly. Tremulous eyes imply
levity of mind,' Avicenna Animal, p, 29. He refers to his master,
Aristotle, the opinion that the arteries begin from tbe heart ; and to
others, that the veins origiuate from the liver. He remarks that after he
is 40 days old the infant can laugh, and that this is the first action which
the rational soul performs in bis body. After two months the babe
dreams. Avic, Anim. p. 9,
" The Latin translation thus closes : ' Here ends the golden work on
tbe Soul, of Avicenna; corrected diligently, and ended at Padua, by two
regular canons of St. Augustiii's monastery.'
" Thus he remarks on tbe lucid phosphorence of some bodies, that the
particles of rotten oak, some worms, and a few insects, shine in the dark ;
so do the eyes of lions and serpents; and says, ' I liave seen an hen's
egg, a dead locust, and a dead caterpillar, exhibit this eff'ect.' p. 1 1.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 397
reasoning to be interesting or useful now. Some brief chap.
notices of it will be inserted in the notes.** ^-
The Arabs were acquainted with the property of intro-
the Magnet to turn towards the north, and had ap
plied it to navigation in the twelfth century. But
whether it was their own discovery, or derived from
Egypt, India, or China, or elsewhere, has not yet
become known.*" They studied the Greek Arith
metic.*'^
^ He considers the powers ofthe mind to be of three sorts : 1st. The
vegetative, "hich causes the first perfection of its natural and instru
mental body in its growth and nutrition. 2d. The sensitive, which is
capable of apprehending particular things and moves the will, 3d. The
rational soul, which deliberates and forms universal notions, judges and
acts. The vegetative has three forces, the nutritive, the augmentative
and tbe generative. The sensitive two general ones ; the motive and
the apprehending. The motive power commands and comprises the vis
appetiva and desiderativa, and the irascibilis. The apprehending is two
fold ; that which acts externally by its senses, and that which acts inter
nally in its apprehensions of sensible forms and of the intentiones sensi-
bilium, or that wbich the soul apprehends de sensibili, altho the exterior
Sense should not perceive it. Thus the sheep conceives the intentio, the
reasoji why it ought to fear the wolf and to fly from him, altho his sense
does not in any manner feel it. He distinguishes the imaginativa of the
mere vital soul from the Cogiriva of the rational or human one, and con
siders this to be a faculty stationed in the middle cavity of the brain.
He places the memorial power in its posterior cavity. He defines ima
gination to be that which abstracts the form from the matter; so that
whether the material subject were absent or destroyed, the being of its
form would be permanent in the imagination. He maintains that tbe
soul does not cease to be at death, and that it does not transmigrate into
other bodies; and he thinks that it vivifies the animal from the heart.
He opposes those who say that the brain is every thing. He gives to tbe
liver the regulation ofthe nutritive force, but considers the heart to be the
first principle from which that chiefly flows, and by which the other
actions are done in the limbs and even the principium sensus. Avic. de
An p. 1-28.
^ On reading the treatise of Albertus Magnus on the loadstone, I
found its polar tendency thus mentioned there. He says, that in a book
of stones, which had Aristotle's name, but of which he had only seen some
extracts, it is said, ' That a comer of the magnet had the property of
taking iron ad Zoron, thatis, to the north, and that sailors used it. TThe
opposite corner draws it ad Afron, thatis, to the south ; and if we bring
iron near to the Zoron point, the iron turns itself to the north ; and if the
opposite one, it moves itself directiy to the south.' Alb. Mag. de Mine-
ralibus, p. 12. It is a mistake of Cavallo tosay, that the, compass is men
tioned by the Islandic Ara Frode,
" Alfarabius mentions this iu bis Opusculun de Scientiis : ' Et alia
HISTORYOF ENGLAND
398 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK We have not an adequate knowledge of the extent
^^- of the Arabian science, because the learned and in-
LiTERARY quisitive in the age of the schoolmen applied them
selves to study and translate their metaphysical and
medical works, in preference to those on natural phi-
^ mipow- }QgQp}jy_ gyt it seems clear that they knew and used
Gunpowder and cannon before Roger Bacon wrote,
and therefore it is probable that he learnt from them,
as he was conversant with their books, what has so
long appeared to be his discovery. The ancient Arabs
used a composition of fiery matter, which they dis
charged as missiles into the towns they besieged ;** but
these were not made of our nitrous powder. Elmacin
described Mecca to have been so attacked, in the first
century of the Hegira.*" Such facts do not imply the
use of modern artillery; but the Arabian author who
lived in 1 249, describes a nitrous powder, and ma
chines thundering and vomiting fire, which too much
resemble our present cannon to leave any doubt of
their analogy.^" The composition of their fiery mate-
omnia quo in Arithmetica Nichomachi possunt plane consideraii.' He
divides the sciences into those of the linguae, the logicse and the doctri-
nalis. In the chapter ' de ingeniis' he mentions tlie ' ars speculorum
ad usentium,' or of burning-glasses or mirrors ; and in that ' De scientia
naturali' he notices the 'parvietas in vitro, ut quod in eo ponitur, exterius
apparent.' c. 4.
" Vegetius states, ' If there shall be houses in a castie fit to burn, you
may set them on fire by sagittis igniferis. You may throw saxa.quadrata
igne plena et maiiganica alacatia, which emit stones.' But Casiri remarks
that no mention is made of the nitrous powder by the Greeks or Romans.
Bib. Hist. V. 2. p. 6.
=® It is under the 71st ofthe Hegira or 690 ofthe Christian era, that
he mentions a chief to have besieged Mecca, and with mangariis et
mortariis, ope naphtbae et ignis in Caabam jactis to have burnt it to ashes.
Elmac. Hist. l.i.
^ The passage, as quoted by Casiri, is ' Serpunt, susurrantque scor-
piones circumiigati, ac pulvere nitrato incensi ; unde explosi fulgurant ac
incendunt. Jam videre erat manganum excussum, veluti nubem per
aera extendi, ac tonitrus instar, borrendum edere fragoreni, ignemque
undequaque«o?nens, omnia deripere, incendere ; in cineresredigere.' Bib.
Hist. V. 2. p. 6, An Arabian receipt for gunpowder, written in 1254, is
mentioned by Major Beamish in his notes on Bismark's Cavalry Tactics,
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 399
rial also indicates it.^' Machines loaded with naph
tha, and exploded with noise against a besieged city,
in 1,312 and 1323, are noticed by another Arab
writer ;'* and The Chronicle of Alphonso II. in 1380,
still more explicitly mentions what we must denomi
nate cannon.^' Hence, as what the Arabs used in
Spain must have been known to the Spaniards, and
as a princess of England, daughter of our Henry II.
became queen of Castile, in the middle of the twelfth
century; and as both Richard I. and Edward I. mar
ried Spanish princesses, and Henry III. cultivated
Spanish connexions, we may infer that the knowlege
of this destructive powder became known in England
from Spain, in the thirteenth century. Roger Bacon
may have discovered it for himself, in his own che
mical experiments. We cannot deny that possibility;
but it is clear that it was both known and used in Ara
bian Spain before he could have become acquainted
with it, as it is not at all likely that the Mussulmen
there derived it from him. It was taken into France
in 1338, during the reign of our Edward HI.'*
'' Casiri justly remarks: ' It is clear that he speaks of iron globes
thrown out by the help of artificial fire; and he iises every where the
words naphtha and barud for tbe material. By barud the Persians, Turks
and Arabs formerly signified nitre and now gunpowder. Naphtha meant
a kind of bitumen mixed with sulphur.' Ib.
^' It is Abu Abdalla Ebn Alkatheb who thus mentions it in bis History
of Spain ; ' In those years, the king of Granada besieged the city Baza^
where he exploded that Machinam maximam instructam naphtha etglobo
admeto igne, in munitam arcem cum strepitu.' Casiri, ib.
^' Speaking of Algesiras, this chronicle says : ' The Moors from the
town exploded many thunders upon the army, from which they threw
out iron pileas like very great mails matiaiiis, and ejected them so far
that some passed beyond the station ofthe besieging troops.' In 1382,
he states that five Zabrias et Sagetiae left the town laden with meal, honey,
butter and the pulvere quo tonitrus emittebatur.' Casiri, p. 8.
'^ Du Fresne mentions, that the account of Barth. Dudrach, the trea
surer for the war of that year, shews that it was brought into France in
the year 1338. It is certain from our own records, that Edward III,
made use of it. In p. 491, of our third volume, we have shewn that
gunpowder was employed in defence of castles 111 1330.
400
HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK VI.
LITERARY
HISTORYOF ENGLAND.Paper.
War.
The Arabians seem also intitled to claim the inven
tion and use of writing paper, before it was known in
England or Europe.^^ Altho, perhaps, it was rather
adopted from more eastern countries than discovered
by the ingenious countrymen of Mohamed.'^ That
they made beautiful ink, and fine dies, may be true,^'^
but the later Grecians, and the European nations from
them, practised these arts in early and great perfection,
as their ancient illuminated MSS,, and the painted
drawings upon them, satisfactorily demonstrate.
The Spanish Arabs studied war as a science, and
wrote several works upon it, of which some still re
main in MS. in the libraries of Spain.^
^ Abu Ali Moh. al Gazel, a writer of the seventh age of the Hegira,
mentions in his work on tbe erudition of the ancient Arabs, that in the
eighty-eighth year of tbe Hegira, (706 A. C.)one Joseph, surnamed Amru,
first of all found out paper in the city of Mecca, and introduced its use
among the Arabs,' Casiri, v, 2. p. 9,
'° Ali Ben Mohamed, a Persian of Samarcand, declares that the use of
paper was very ancient among the Chinese and Persians ; and that tbe
art of making it was carried into Samarcand in tbe thirtieth year ofthe
Hegira. >
Casiri adds, that many MSS. in the Escurial, and some that were writ
ten 1009 and 1 106, A. C. shew this. Bib. Hisp. ib, Peter of Clugny, in his
work against the Jews, in 1 140, mentions, Chartam ex lasuris veterum pan7
norum ; but Peter was a great Arabic scholar, and much in Spain. Lupus,
about 840, mentions in his Ep. 16, a chartaceo codice ; but Muratori
observes, that some think this should be chartinaceo, and may mean
papyrus. He adds, ' I have seen no MS, written on paper, before 1100,'
Ant.ib.87i. So tbat the ATab claim seems best founded.
" Casiri remarks, that the Persians and Chinese excelled in the
art of calligraphy, and of making chartam nitidissiman, and most splendid
ink and florid colours. ' Ever emulating them, the Arabs so tinged their
skins with red and black, and made them so shining, that I bave often
seen myself in them as in a looking glass.' Ib. ' There are many MSS.
in the Escurial, both of paper and silk, which were made before the
year 1200.' Ib.
'' As that of Ali Ben Abdalrabman Ben Hazel, of Granada, w ho dedi
cated his book on military affairs and stratagems, to the king of Granada,
A. H. 763; in which he mentions gunpowder. And the following works :
De Belli Prestantia et A'irtute, by Ben Jonas, of Corduba ; De Belli Regi-
mine, by Ben Hazem ; De Arte Equestri, by Aldbamiathi, of Corduba ;
and another by Ben Monden, of \'alentia, curious for its litle ; ' On tbat
Constancy of mind in Battles, by which the Spaniards are distinguished
among other nations,' Casiri, p. 29.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 401
' The Arahiah mind had thel)est produce of Grecian Chap
philosophy before it, when the caliphs had made _^
science and literature popular among its studious intro-
individuals. But turning from Cicero, from the long of t^^
idolized Plato, from his competitors of the two aca- Arabian
demies, from Seneca and the stoical reasoriers, and "^ — -. — '¦
from the school of Epicurus, and the eclectic Plato- Logic.""
nist^ of Alexandria, they selected, in deliberate pre
ference, the works and subjects of Aristotle, the most
erabbed, the most diflficult, the most peculiar, but the
most exciting and intellectualizing of all ; and to these,
and more especially to his logical disquisitions, they
devoted themselves with an emulation and an assi
duity, which even the schoolmen imitated, but never
surpassed.^' Hence logical treatises abounded in the
Arabian schools, and were successively made the com
mon property of scholastic Europe, as soon as men
arose in it who could translate their language into
Latin, and could understand their refined and subtil
izing reasonings.
Averroes distinguished himself by his Commen
taries on Aristotle's Predicaments,*" to which a Jewish
philosopher added his annotations, and not without
asserting a fair independence of individualjudgment.*'
^ Averroes paraphrased Plato's Republic, as we remarked in note '*,
p. 392 ; but this example was but little imitated. Plato obtained no dis
tinction in the Arabian academies, tho be electrified Europe, and more
especially Italy, on the revival of Greek literature in the fifteenth
century. *° These occupy five small quartos, aud have been printed from tbe
version of Severinus Boethus, who calls it the Exposition of Averroes of
Corduba. *' This was Levi Ghersonides, whom Jacob Mantinus, an Hebrew,
translated into Latin. Levi begins with saying, ' I will state the places
in which my opinion differs from that of Aristotle.' One ofhis disunc-
tions is, 'This art (Logic) directs the intellect to judge between the true
;and the false. In doing this, it is considered by itself, and therefore
,1 knew it to be, not an art, but an organ illustrative of knowlege ; for it
Vol. IV. D d
402
BOOK VI.
literaryhistoryof ENGLAND.
Their rhetoric.
HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
Averroes also disserted on Aristotle's '. Analytics.**
Several other Arabians, some of equal, and others of
minor name, pursued the same path,*^ till Aristotle
became far more distinguished iri the Mohamedan
world than he had even been in his own country, or in
any portion or: period of the Roman empire.
The Arabs, even before Mohamet, were nationally
and habitually orators in their public assemblies, but
it was the eloquence of natural talent, mental vivacity,
and excited feeling. The chains and rules and edu*-
cation of art they spurned in all things, and their
oratory was therefore as unformed and irregular as
their government and habits,; but when these became
settled in their conquests and colonizations of other
countries, they sought the improvements which the
laws of taste and the rules of art were found to pro
duce, and were studied to display. The Arabians were
then seen to study the Greek orations, and to translate
their rhetoric. Poems were composed on this art, and
as their knowlege became greater, Alsokaki trans
lated Qtiintiliah, and Alhariri, Cicero.**
is an organ to science, wbich by our using it, discriminates what is false
from wliat is true, the. proposed object of all science.' p., l.
" Averroes, or Ebu Roschid, which is his proper Arabian name, in
troduces this work with a proemium, in which he remarks ; ' This book
¦treats on demonstration and definitions. As^ to 4he consideration- of
demonstration, its purpose is to treat of those things which bave tieir
materials in themselves, and these are generally true propositions. For
these demonstrations seem to consist of two things; one, those proposi
tions which have the materials in themselves; and the other, the com
position or combination of these into their logical form.'
¦"Among these were Avenpace, Alpharabius and Abumazar. The lattei-
is often quoted by Averroes, at p. 20. 104, &c. Averroes alludes to others,
in the passage wherein he says,' As I have been instigated by some of
our learned companions, diligent on these subjects, desecta Murgitana, on
whom may God have mercy, to expound these things ; I have accord
ingly expounded them, otherwise I should have abstained from it.' p. 20.
" Thus AbualkasisBenedaris, who is called an ' eximius judex,' wrote
' De notificatione Generis et Specie!.' His object he states : ' We raeaii
to speculate on the opinion of Alpharabius, who savs, tbat genus and
differentia agree in this, that each of them notifies the essence and the
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 403
That the" Arabians had tales of wonderful heroes, chap.
we know from D'Herbelot's short notice of one that ^•
has been placed in the eighth century.*'' But the pub
lication of the extravagant history of the Arab negro
slave and poet, Antar,*® has laid before the English
"world a leiigthened display of romantic tales, at
tached to one extraordinary character; which being '^''^ .
composed in the time of Haroun AlRaschid and his Fables.
two successors,*'' or in the eighth century and part of
the next, precedes all the romans and fictitious histo
ries that now exist from either Bretons or Anglo-
Normans iri Europe.**
substance of the species.' Alhagiag ibn TlialmuS, reasoned, ' de mistione
propositionis de inesse et necessariie.' Abuhalkasim Mahmath Ben Kasan
composed a treatise on the manner of discriminating the demonstrations.
Propter Quid, and the demonstration, Quid. He is termed a ' philoso-
phus detlamator.' Another was Abultabadad Hadrahman Benjohar, whose
work was on 'the. negative, the necessary, the possible and the middle
term.' All these have been translated into Latin and printed. To us
¦who bave long outlived the day, when the subjects, the terms, the sfyTe
of reasoning, aud the mode of diction of these gentlemen were popular;
nothing can be more obscure, fatiguing, and unuseful now, than all the
logical worksof this indefatigable, ingenious and emulous school. Time has
conferred an obligation upon us, in covering them with her veil, but it is
an act of justice to their talents, to preserve their historical memory. They
were all serviceable in their day, and each contributed something to the
vast accumulation of improvement, which our present age of light and
knowlege has inherited and is increasing.
^ D'Herbelot's account is, ' Batthat, in Arabic, means a bold and
valiant man, who seeks adventures bke the knights errant of the an
cient romances, — Dhehebi writes, that in the year 121 of the Hegira,
(a.d. 731), a warrior fell, surnamed Al Batthal, of whose warlike deeds
many wonders are related. In the book intitled, ' Seirat al Mogiahedin,'
or the Lives of the bravest Warriors, there is an abridgment of this
hero's life: it is in the French king's library, N" 1079.' Herb. Bib. 193.
*' It was in 1819 that ' Antar, a Bedoueen romance, translated from
the Arabic by Terrick Hamilton, esquire, oriental secretary to the British
embassy at Constantinople,' was published in one volume, which has
been since extended into four.
¦*' The introduction states, tbat it was first put together ' by Osmay,
one of the eminent scholars who adorned tbe court of Haroun Al Baschid,
and of his two learned successors, Al Amyn and Al Mamoun, and con
tinues still to be the principal source whence the storytellers of the
^off'ee-houses in Egypt, Syria and Arabia, draw their most interesting
tales.' p, z.
^ I observe in D'Herbelot, that our Richard I. was called by the Ara-
U D 2
404 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK As Antar 's adventures must have had great cele-
^^' brity, the Arabians, therefore, may claim to be our
LITERARY prccursors in the roman, as well as in alchemy and
England! metaphysics ; for as we cannot doubt that these tales
' •' ' would make their way into Spain, before the ninth
century opened, or at least before it closed, and as our
students in Mohametan Spain could hardly remain
ignorant of such popular literature, we cannot deny
the possibility, that the Arab romans may have con
tributed to excite the Anglo-Norman and Breton
-clergy to the composition of the fictitious heroes and
heroic history, which have confessedly proceeded
from them. Antar is of importance even on some
interesting historical subjects.*'
It has been surmised, that the Arabian Nights En
tertainment may have proceeded from the old Pehlvi
stock, and from that have been transl ated into Arabic.'"
bian writers, ' Malek Antikar,' and ' King ofthe Franks.' p. 1 14, Antikar
may have been their transformation of tbe word Angleterre — or, was
-this name applied to him from any supposed resemblance between his
actions and character and those of their popular Antar ?
*^ Thus it authenticates the Hebrew account of tbe Arabs from Ish-
^nael, for it begins, ' Ishmael, son of Abraham, was the father of Adnan ;'
p. 1, and deduces 20,000 horsemen from Adnan, before they migrated
from the valley of Mecca; and it makes Adnan one of the two great
Arab tribes, p. 58. It states the veneration in which Abraham was held,
p. 11-20, making the Caaba his traditional mansion, and describing pil-
.grimages to his shrine before Mohamed, 1 1-38. On a disaster ' they
threw down their tents and pavilions, and thus they continued seven
days and nights ;' p. 8. — just as the friends who came to Job ' sat down
with him upon tbe ground seven days and seven nights, and none spake
a word unto him, for they saw that his grief was very great,' Job',
c, 2. V. 13. -
'" This is the supposition of Mr. Langles, which the editor of Antar
thinks to be probable, from their ' rich and gorgeous descriptions of the
works of art and nature — their enchanted palaces— their genii and magj:-
cians — their sultans and viziers, and all the attendant magnificence Of a
.court, and the want of individual character in their leading personages.
Introd, p. 5. Mr. Von Hanmer, in the Paris As. Soc. Journal, Ap, 1827,
has stated from Masoudi's history, that these tales are of Indian, or
rather Persian origin, and the real name of the lady is not Scheherar
zade, or city born, but Schii-zade, lion born, or milk born. The passage
in Maioudi, is this, ' The style (if these traditions, is the same as that of
DUCTION
OF THE
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES- 405
It is not improbable. The land of the fairies ; the CHAP.
reo-ion of the genies, and the king of these imaginary ^-
domains, Gian Ben Gian, which interest our youth intro
so much in the Arabian Nights Entertainments, are
purely Persian ; and so much so, that the first part of Arabian
¦tl. T ., . <^i 1 TVT 1 • , 1 I SCIENCES
Firdousi s epic. Shah Nameh, introduces them to our > — v —
attention." But the conception of the Eastern genii
seems referible to a still older source — to the an
cient Chaldeans.**
The Spanish Arabs had translated what we call the
fables of Pilpay from its Indian original into their
language.'^ As it was the logical disquisitions of the Arabians
which most interested and influenced our schoolmen
the books which bave reached us, translated from the Persian, Indian,
and Greek, and which have been composed after (he manner of that of
Hezar Efsan ; which is rendered in Ar.abic by Elf Kharafa, or tbe thou
sand fables; for the Arabic word Kharafa, answers to the Persian word
Efsan. This book is called the Thousand and One Nights ; it is the his
tory of a king, his vizier, the vizier's daughter, and her nurse, these two
last are called Schirzad and Dinarzad. Massoudi distinguishes the stories
of Sindbad, and Chimas, and Guilkand, as in books distinct from them,
and says, that it was under Al Mamun, such stories began to be trans
lated into the Arabic. I am induced to think that our Arabian Nights'
is an ancient Persian collection of old eastern stories, with additions
from Arabia aud Greece. Part of Sindbad is manifestly derived from
Homer's Odyssey.
" His account is, that when Ahriman and the demons were driven
from heaven, they were banished with the Peries or Faries, to Gennistan,;
where they were governed by Gian Ben Gian, tbe imaginary sovereign of
this visionary country.
" The ' lynges' were one of the chief orders of the celestial beings
under the Deity, according to the Chaldean pbilosphers. See Stanley
Hist. Phil. p. 1037, and the Chaldaic Oracles, p. I071. They fancied
also material daimons, who could transform themselves into animals,
birds and women, p. 1043. On the derivation ofthe word Genii, I would
observe, that in Arabic, Aginyah now means what we call Genii: and
Janistan, Fairy-land, or the Stan, the region of the Jani or Genii. In the
same language Jannal is Paradise and Heaven. Jan and Jani, in Persian
express tlie soul and life, Jann, in Persian, now signifies tbe Devil, and
Jinn, in Arabic, is also applied to denote a demon.
^ In the Escurial is a MS. of a translation of this into Spanish, inti-
tied, Calila y Dina, which mentions, that it was made from the Arabic
so early as 1251, by the command of king Ferdinand's son, Alphonso.
Ferusac, Bull. Univ. I836, N" 6. p, 435-
D D 3
406 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK and the scholastic age, it may be useful to the histo-
2Zl rical student to give him a specimen of one of them,
literary by a few passages from
HISTORYOF E^NGLAND^ ^L GAZEL'S LOGICA.
" The science of Logic gives the rule by which we may discern
whether the definition and the syllogism be faulty or not, in order
that true knowlege maybe distinguished fiom what is not true.
Thus it is, as it were, the weight and measure of all the sciences.
" All utility is vile in comparison of eternal felicity, which is
the felicity of another life. But this felicity depends upon the
perfection of the soul, and this consists of two things ; its purity
and its adornment.- The purity of the soul lies in its being puri
fied from what is sordid, and in being preserved from base phan
tasies. Its adornment rests in having the certainty of truth
depicted on it, so that divine truths may be revealed to it.
" A mirror is not perfect unless a beautiful form can appear in
it, so that this may be visible without deformity or alteration.
But this cannot be, unless it be absolutely clear from all stain and
rust, and then when what is beautiful is presented to it, this will
appear in all its comeliness.
" The mind is such a mirror. The forms of all being may be
depicted in it when it is cleared and purified from all degrading
habits ; but it cannot discriminate justly between what is vicious
and what is virtuous, except by knowlege : for, to have the forms
of all things painted on it, is nothing else than to have the know
lege of all things within it. But there is no way of coming to
true knowlege but by logic. The utility of logic is therefore the
apprehension of knowlege, and the use of knowlege is the acqui
sition of everlasting felicity ; but if this felicity cannot be had
without the perfection of the soul, and if this can be attained only
by its purity and its due adornment, then the perfect logic is a
science of the greatest utility,
" As the builder of a house first requires xhe preparation of
tiles, wood and clay, tiiat he may after^Nards, from these, construct
his house : so knowlege will arise according to the form and
nature of the thing known. Therefore the inquirer after the
knowlege of the whole will first desire to apprehend the knowlege
of its parts. For this reason we must first speak of words, and
explain how they signify intellect. We will then treat of intel
lects and their divisions ; we will pi'oceed to the enunciation of
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 407
the composite, that is, ofthe predicate; the subject and its cHAP
issue ; and lastly, of the establishment of the proof by two enun- x,
ciations. For, we shall speak of the proof in two ways ; —
1. The matter, — d. The form."
Al Gazel then proceeds to treat- on Words ; on which he
remarks that nouns never express time ; but the verb denotes both
the intention and the time. His substantia he divided into that
which is body, and into that which is not body.
He introduced the preceding by distinguishing two
proprieties of knowlege ; perception and belief.
" Perception, to which he applies the term imaginatio, is the
apprehension of the things signified by the words used to under
stand and to certify them, as the apprehension of the meaning of
such a name ; of a dog, a tree, a spirit, an angel, &c.
" Belief is the reception of an asserted truth ; as that the world
has had a beginning ; obedience will be rewarded, &c. It is
necessary that two perceptions should precede all belief; for who--
everhas not understood the signification ofthe word " the world''
by itself, and of the words " has had a beginning," by themselves,
will not understand the assertion to be believed, viz. that the
world has had a beginning.
" But this word " the world," would mean nothing to him if
his perception of it was " the burld," nor " beginning," if that
was pronounced " meginning.'' He could not believe any thing
from hearing that " the burld had a meginning," nor could he
grant that to be so. Thus, by having the correct knowlege of
both the previous perceptions, we attain the knowlege of the
thing that was unknown to us, which the assertion expresses.
" It is therefore manifest from this instance, that all knowlege
which is the subject of an investigation, cannot be investigated
unless by the aid of some preceding knowlege. This fact will
not lead us into infinity ; because we shall be led by this to the
primary things; to those which are " stabilia;" fixed in the very
nature of intellect anterior to all inquisition and meditation.
" This is what we propose to do in our treatise on logic. It is
manifest that the unknown can become known to us only by what
is known. Whatever is not known must be made known by the
aid of some known thing ; but every unknown thing has some
proper truth peculiar and congruous to itself, which becomes the
means of our attaining the other, and of representing it to the
intellect." D D 4
40fr HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK Having distinguished substance into body and not body, he
VI. remarks that, " body exists in two classes, in the vegetative and
the non-Vegetative ; but the vegetative comprise two things; plants^
and animals, and animals are divided into men, and many other
things. Substance is thus the genus generalissimum, and man, a
species specialissima.
" Argumentation is either by syllogism ; by induction ; or by
example. The definition and the sj'Uogism are distinguishable
into the " rectum,'' by which truth is acquired, and into' the
false, which is only the probable."
His " Philosophica" contains many passages
that deserve the attention of those who may like to
study Arabian metaphysics.
We will now proceed to consider the Scholastic
Philosophy, one of our branches from the Aristotelian
and Arabian stocks.
DURING THE MIDDLE -4GKS. 40a
CHAP. XI.
Introduction of the Aristotelian Philosophy into England —
Analysis of Porphyry's Isagoge- — History and Opinion^,
of Aristotle — Analysis of Aristotle's Categories.
1 HE study most cultivated in England and in Europe subjects
by the more active minds in the twelfth century, was "/''?'!
• • 1 • 1 • 1 1 J J^rsbian
that mixture of logic and metaphysics which had philoso-
characterized the Arabian philosophy, and which P ®''*'
abounds in the works of the schoolmen.
The human mind in its various operations — the
senses, and their perceptions — the causes and essences,
and relations of things — intellect in the abstract; its
logical exercitations — the divine nature, the future
existence of the soul, and the anatomy of the organs
of sense' — were favorite topics with the great Arabian
' Avicenna considers the eyes to be what principally display, in us,
tbe dispositions of the soul : — if they be of a middling' size, they express
what is good and pious ; if tremulous, they indicate light-mindedness; if
long open, want of modesty, or imbecility ; if deep seated, subtlety ; if
extended forward, folly. Overhanging eyebrows imply an envious mind.
He makes these moral differences between animals : — the cow, little
anger ; the mountain boar, vehement fplly and sharp fiiry ; the camelj
gentle and clean; the serpent, astute in' evil' motions; lions, brave and
magnanimous; wolves, brave, inggnious, ungrfiteful and savage; foxesj
ingenious in bad actions ; dogs, irascible aiid^ -laborious; apes and ele
phants, very cunning and familiar ; geese, basbful and cautious ; peacocks,
envious, handsome, and admirers of their own beauty; the camel and the
donkey, of good memory; but man alone can forget, and recal what he
has forgotten.
He says, that Aristotle first said that the arteries began from the heart;
and others, that the veins arose from the liver. In wb^t is termed, by his
Paduan editors, his golden work on the soul, Avicenna considers the
heart as fhe first principle of bodily life, and on which it chiefly depends.
From the heart the souf vivifies the animM ; and from that is diffused
through tbe other parts, and thence actions and movements proceed in
the litiibs. From the heart the energies of life iloWipg to the brain, whence
the nerves arise, some perform their actions there, some emanate to other
parts, as to the pupil ofthe eye, and muscles of motion. From the heart
HISTORYOF ENGLAND,
410 HISTORY OP ENGLAND,
BOOK sages. To men of their refined and acute minds, the
^^' specious works of Aristotle proved an irresistible
LITERARY tcmptatloH to fathom his apparent profundity, and to
exercise themselves -by his rules ; and many Arabians
became his translators and commentators -^ their ex
ample diffused a taste for logic and for Aristotle, far
beyond what Greece itself, in the highest prevalence
of the Peripatetics, had at any time experienced.^
Aristotle was first contemplated in the Abstract of
Boetius, and in the Introduction of Porphyry. On this
latter work Averroes commented,* and his commen
tary ^v^as the text-book on which the Norman monks
lectured at Cambridge, as we have already remarked.^
Ingulf states himself to have studied Aristotle, and to
have excelled in logic." It is probable that he studied
.^fistotle in Porphyry or Boetius.
r As the Aristotelian philosophy was introduced into
f — '
the nourishing powers issue to the liver, and thence by the veins through
all the body, feeding even thd heart. Most ofthe nerves of feeling origi-
^H^teA'em^he4r9t part tif the brain, and many of those of movement from
its posterior portion nearer tbe spine.
He places what he calls the ' virtus formalis,' and the ' communis
sensiis,' in the forepart of the brain. The spirit fills the ventricle there.
Cogitation and memory are in the two other ventricles, but the place of
memory is behind; so that the spirit of tJiought is in the middle, that is,
between the treasury of the forms and that of the intentions. The space
between these is equal.
" The Arabian account of Aristotle's writings, quoted by Casiri, 304-
308, states the principal Arab translators and commentators ofthe various
works of Aristotle. Buhle, in his late copious editions of Aristotle, bas
prefixed a short notice of the Arabian interpreters of Aristotle. Vol. 1.
p. 321. Bipont, 1791.
¦ ^ The followers of Aristotle never formed moi-e than a sect in Greece.
The Platonists, the Epicureans, and the Academics were far more popular.
¦• Averroes says, that he expounds Porphyry at the request of some
friends ; but that, in his own opinion, this introduction was not neces.sary,
because the great mastei-'s terms were sufficiently intelligible, Levi
Ghersonides also made his annotations ; in which he remarks, that he
differs from Aristotle in considering the art not to be science, but an
organum to the sciences, by wbich the intellect may judge between the
false and the true, p, 1,
' See before, v, 4. p. 153. « Ingulf. Hist. pp. 62 & 73.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 411
England, as it was in almost every other country, by
the celebrated Isagoge, or Introduction of Porphyry,
we shall form a better notion of the men and history
of the scholastic ages, if we take a view of its prin
cipal contents. ANALYSIS OF PORPHYRY'S ISAGOGE.
Porphyry mentions that he wrote this little work because he
thought it necessary for the student of Aristotle's Categories to
know, first, what he meant by his genus, species, proprium, and
accidents :' the theory of these being useful for definitions, and
essential in all that concerned distinctions and demonstrations. He
Says, ' that abstaining from all deeper questions, he would try by
a few remarks as an introduction, to explain succinctly the first
elements of the more simple topics.' He therefore declines all
discussion, whether genera and species really subsist in nature, or
exist only in the naked thoughts of the mind ; whether, if sub™
sisting, they are bodily substances or incorporeal ; and whether
they have any separate being, or are inherent in the objects of
jphysical sense ; because, he considers these to be very abstruse
points, and to require a more elaborate disquisition.'
Of genus and species he remarks, that neither of them are ,
singly spoken of; for genus is called a congregation of things
which have a relation to some one thing else, and to each other.
As the genus of the Heraclidae is so named from Hercules, and
from the many other persons who, by descending from him, have
a relation with each other, and have, therefore, this appellation to
distinguish them from other genera. Genus may be also named
from a place as well as a parent. Thus Pindar is called a Theban,
and Plato an Athenian.
It is also used of things to which species are subjected, according
to their apparent likenesses ; for genus is then the principal or
head of all that are arranged under it, and seems to comprise
them.' In this triple sense is genus used by Aristotle, who denominates
that to be a genus which may be predicated of many things that
' I quote Porphyry's work from the edition of it in Buhle's Bipont
edition of it, prefixed to the works of Aristotle, v. l. 369-416, and select
in the text the most material parts, as 'Uterally translating it as is con
sistent with perspicuity.
* Porph, 2. Isag. c. 1. p. 369. ° Ibid, c. 2. p: 371.
41ii HISTORY OF ENGLAND,-
BOOK dififer in species-^as the genus, animal. Ofthe things predicated
VI. of this, some belong to one individual only ; as Socrates, or this
person, or that thing. Some of many ; as genera, species, dif-
HisTORYoF ferences, and accidents, which are common to several, and not
ENGLAND, peculiar to any one. Thus animal is the genus ; man the species ;
' ' his rationality, the difiierence ; his risibility, the proprium, or his
peculiar property ; while white, black, sitting or walking, were the
accidents'J" , But while genus thus differ from those things which are predicated
of any one object, by being predicated of many, species, tho also
predicated of many, is not spoken of those which dififer in species,
but of those which differ only in number. Thus the species, man,
is so spoken of both Socrates and Plato, who as men difiPer only
in number ; but the genus, animal, is applied equally to man, ox,
and horse, which difiPer in species as well as in number."
Genus difiFers from the proprium, or appropriated peculiarity,
because this is applied to one species only, of which it is the pro
prium, aud to the individuals under it ; as laughter belongs to man,
and every man, but to nothing else.'^
Genus also differs from diflFerence, and from the accidents which
are common to all ; because, although these are predicated of
multitudes, which differ in species, yet they are not predicated of
them by reason of what they really are, but of the sort of things
they are ; for if we be asked what the thing is of which these are
spoken, we answer, genus. We do not say, 'dififerences aud
species ;' because these terms are not attributed to any substance
for being what it is, but for its being the kind of thing it happens
to be."
Then if we be asked what sort of thing a man is, we say, ra
tional; or what kind of thing a crow is, we reply, black; — rational
is the difiorence in the one case, and black the accident in the
other : but if we are questioned what thing or substance a man is.
We shall answer, an animal, because that is the genus of man.'^
Species is that which is arranged under a genus, and of which
the genus is predicated in that respect in which it really exists. It
is that which is- predicatod of many things that differ in number,
according to its being what it is."
, In every category or predicament there are some things that are
most general, and some that are most special.
'» Porph. Isag. c. 2. p, 372, 3. " Ibid. p. 373,
'= Ibid. " Ibid. p. 374.
"Ibid, . 'Mbid, p, 376.
HISTORY OF THE
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 413
The most general genus is that which has no superior one ; and CHAP,
the most special is that to which there is no inferior species. Thus XI,
substance itself is the genus most comprehensive. Under this is
body — less general is an animated body, and lesser still, is ian
animal. Under this" will be a rational animal, under this a man, scholas-
and within man will be Socrates, Plato, and every particular '^^^ phi
losophy.
person. .. >
Here substance is the most general, and which can be only
a genus ; and man is the most special of what can be only a species.
Body is a species of substance ; as a body animated is of body.
But animal is a genus.'"
Yet animal, though a species of an animated body, is a genus to
a rational animal. So that is a species as to animal, but a genus
as to man.
. But here we pause — man, though a species of rational animal,
is not a genus to every man, but remains a species only. Hence
we perceive, that substance must be genus in the superlative
degree ; because it can have no superior one in which it can be
comprehended. So man is a term that can have no species infe
rior to it, but only individuals. Man is, therefore, the most special
species." On the Differences, Porphpy remarks, that things differ
from each other, either with respect to themselves or to others^ —
as Socrates from Plato ; or each differs from himself, as when
a boy, or man, or acting, reciting, &c.
But things more strictly dififer when they differ in some acci
dent that is inseparable ; as in color, or in having a hooked nose,
or a scar. But they difiPer in the strictest of all senses, when the
difiPerence constitutes a species ; as a man from a horse."
The Proprium, or that which is the particular property of any
thing; and peculiar to that alone, is susceptible of a fourfold di
vision. 1 . What may happen to any one, though not to all ; as
to a man, to cure or to be cured, or to measure geometrically.
2. What may belong to all, and even to other species, and not to
one thing only ; as to man to be a biped, which birds and apes also
are. 3. What occurs both to one and to all, and at some time or
other; as to all men to grow hoary from old age. 4. What happens
to every one and to all, and at every time ; as the aptness to laugh ;
for, though everj' man is not always laughing, yet all have at all
'« Porph, Isag, p, 377, 8, " Ibid, c, 2. p. 379-
" Ibid, c, 3, p. 386. ¦
414 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK tinSes an aptitude to laugh. The terms that express the propria
Vr. may also be reciprocated of each other; for if the thing be a hofse,
' it is his proprium to neigh ; if he neighs, you may aflSrm he is
iiistoryop ''• horse.
ENGLAND. The ACCIDENT, Porphyry defines to be, that which is made or
unmade without the destruction of its subject ; and he divides it
into two distinctions — that which is separable — and that which is
inseparable. To sleep is a separable accident, because we may
also be awake. To be black is inseparable in an Ethiop and in
a crow ; yet a white crow, and an uncoloured Ethiopian, may be
conceived without the destruction of the subject ; therefore changes
ofthe accidential do not destroy the substance to which they occur.
An accident may, therefore, also be defined to be, that which may
and may not be in the same thing. This cannot be affirmed of
either genus, species, differences or the proprium, because they are
always inhering in some subject.^"
PorphjTV then treats of the communities and the difiPerences of
these five great words of Aristotle's system. — The genus, species,
difiPerence, proprium, and accident. He states the coincidences
and distinctions of genus and difiPerence ; of genus and species ;
and of genus and the proprium and the accident. He discusses
in like manner those between species, the proprium and accident,
with difference : and also between species and the proprium and
accident, and then between these two." But it will be a sufficient
specimen of all, to select some of his remarks on what is common
and what is different between genus and difference.
It is common to genus and to difference to contain species
under them. Thus rational, though it does not comprehend under
it the irrational, as an animal, yet comprises man and God, which
are its species.''^
Whatever is predicated of a genus, as genus, may be predicated
of its species ; and so what is aflSrmed of difference may be
asserted of the species that arise from it. For, if the genus be
animal, we may predicate of it, substance, animation, and sensi
bility, and likewise of all its species, even to individuals. So, if
the difference be rational, the use of reason may be affirmed of all
the species thus distinguished.
It is common both to geiius and to difference, that if they be
taken away, all which are arranged under them must likewise go;
'» Porph. Isag, c. 4. p. 394, 5. » Ihid. c. 5. p. 395, 6.
=' Ibid. c. 6-16. p. 396-415. =Mb. c. 7. p. 398,
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES, 415
Thus, if an object be not an animal, it certainly is neither a horse CHAP
nor a man. If it be not rational, it cannot be an animal using xi,
reason ,^^
The proprium of genus is that which may be predicated of i"story
many ; whether as difference, species, proprium, or accident. For scholas-
that it is an animal may be said equally of a man, horse, bird and Tic phi-
serpent ; but the term quadruped can be affirmed only of those losophy.
things which have four feet. Man is referible to its individuals
only, and neighing only to a horse, tho it is applicable to every
horse. In like manner accident is predicated of power,"'
Genus contains difference, as in power; for one animal is rational
and another irrational : but differences do not comprise "genera.
Genera are also prior to the differences comprehended under them,
and, therefore, the latter may be taken away without the other
being destroyed ; but if you abstract animal from a thing, you
remove both rationality and irrationality ; for if it be not an animal
it can have neither of these : but an abstraction of the differences
does not thus annihilate the genus, because, if they be all t^ken
away, 'yet the mind can still contemplate a sensible animated
substance.^' There is but one genus to a species, as animal to a man ; but
many differences ; for he may be rational, mortal, and capable gf
intellect and knowlege, and by these may be discriminated from
other animals. Genus answers to -the Inatter, and difference in
the form, of any subject.'^
This summary of Porphyry's Isag^oge will shew
the reader into what directions of thought it led the
English student, and by what exertions of it his mind
was thereby exercised. That it communicated know
lege cannot be contended, still less that it added any;
that it even classified what was known under any
useful and judicious arrangement of nature, which
should be the aim of all generalization, must not be
maintained; for the Aristotelian plan, as thus far
Porph, Isag. c, 7, p, 399. '* Ibid,
Ibid, p. 400, * Ibid. p. 401,
416 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK explained by the Isagoge, would place the things h6
^l- mentions under this distribution :
literary Substance,
HISTORYOF j
ENGLAND. Animal.
^""^ , ! ,
I I
Rational. Irrational.
I I I ] I ^1
God. Man. Biped. Quadruped. Horse. Serpent.
(I II
Scientific; can heal; Socrates; black.
In this classification it is preposterous to see where
the divine Author of all things would be placed ;
atid what an unmeaning and unprofitable arrange
ment would be applied to every thing else. It is
clearly a system that is useless, as a guide to the
knowlege of nature, or as an instrument for making
discoveries in it, or for applying its phenomena to
reveal or illustrate its laws. It is connected with no
grand philosophical principles or theory, and cannot
assist the mind to form them, nor to multiply our
stock of truths.
It is a system of words and of verbal distinctions,
which looks at nature only thro the spectacles of a
peculiar language, to make what it beholds conver
tible to the purposes of a vivacious logic.
Nature was not studied, nor valued as nature for
her realities, nor to be exhibited in them for any pur
pose of knowlege or use, but to be subjected to an
artificial examination of terms, distinctions arid argu
ments, which would be most available for a perpe^
tual battle of reasoning ingenuity and sturdy debate.
Yet it was such an able mechanism of discussing
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 417
mind, and its operation was such a powerful stimu- CHap.
lus to intellectual activity, that it never could be ^^'
studied without rousing the human soul to an ani- history
mation and agility, which nothing that preceded it scholas-
could produce.
Tho it was really conversant with words more
than things, yet it certainly produced an attention
to their exact diiferences, and a discrimination of
their appropriate meanings; a severe precision in
their use, and a vigilant jealousy and exposure of
their misapplication, which had the happiest effects;
both on the intellect, on learning, and on science.
It annihilated the rhetorical mind. Declamatioh
was nonsense to the Aristotelian logician, and was
triumphantly cut to pieces by his keen and active
weapons of accurate terms, and of strict reasoning
upon their exact meaning, and by his resolute acti
vity to demolish what they could not support. This
was indeed the great object for which Aristotle seems
to have invented it, and it fully answered its great
master's expectations. He has done more to abolish
rhetorical sophistry and declamatory verbosity in the
studious world, than any other individual.
But as the mind and works of Aristotle ooerated
so long, and with such stimulating and influencing
efficacy on the English as well as on the European
mind, after the Norman conquest, it will be just to
him and to our ancestors, to consider him a little
more at length, that we may better understand the
history and nature of our scholastic philosophy;
especially as the oblivion to which we are now con
signing both himself and his compositions, may soon
leave them litde else than a " clarum et memorabile
nomen," which satire claims a right to deride.
Vol, IV. E e
418 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK Son of the physician and friend of the king of
"^'^' Macedon, who preceded Philip — his birth-place
LITERARY Stagira — be went to Athens at the age of seventeen,
HISTORYOF ^^^ attended for three years to the conversations of
ENGLAND. T I -1 • T' • C T>1 1
' — -. — ' Socrates, Imbibing a strong: atiection tor Plato, he
History _ ., , i °i • • j
and opi- Studied twenty years under this superior man, and
nions of became the most intellectual disciple of his school.^'^
Aristotle, ^ • i i
After Plato's death, he resided a few years with the
tyrannus, or little king of Atarnse, and then returned
to Macedonia. Philip there committed to him the
education of his son Alexander, at the age of fifteen.
This task completed, he settled himself at Athens, on
its earnest invitation,^ and was for thirteen years the
head of the* Lyceum, which he established in that
celebrated city. Accused there by one of its Hiero-
phants, of impiety, for some difference of opinion on
the prevailing superstitions, he exclaimed, as he saw
the Athenians favoring the impeachment, and remem
bered the fate of Socrates, " I will not suffer you to
sin twice against philosophy," and withdrew lo Chal-
cis.^" Proceeding to Macedonia, he accompanied
Alexander into India, and returned with him to
Persia.^" On his untimely death, he revisited Greece,
" Diog. Laert. \'it. 1. Buhle's Arist. p. 3. Amnion, ^'ita. ib. p. 44.
Such was his regard for Plato, that he even dedicated an altar to him
with this inscription : —
Aristotle has built this altar to Plato ;
A man whom it is sacrilege for the bad to praise, Amm. p. 46.
°° On the death of Speusippus, the Athenians sent an embassy to
invite him to their city, where he, at his Lyceum, and Xenocrates, in the
Academy, established their philosophical schools. Amm. p. 47.
=" Amm. ib 48, Diog. Laert. ib. 6. He often censured the Athenians.
He once said they had found out two things — Wheat and laws — but
with this difference ; their wheat they made use of, but their laws never.
Diog. Laert. 16.
*• On this journey he composed his poUtical work; having examined
the polity of two hundred and fifty-five governments. — Amm. ib. He has
been accused of poisoning Alexander. See Buhle 1. p. 99; but the Diary
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 419
and is stated to have died from hemlock, at the age chap.
of sixty-three,'^' in the same year that Demosthenes ]^
perished. Stammering, bald, of low stature, and thin history
legged, with small eyes, he distinguished his per- scholas-
son at one time by a shaven beard, and by a showy "'^ '""'-
J 1 • 12 1 1 -11 • LOSOPHY,
dress and rings, but he was extremely moderate in > — . —
his habits,^^ and mild and polished in his manners,^*
His Ode to Virtue displays the true energy of a
wise and moral mind,^' and he gave his thoughts as
of this King's fatal illness, preserved by Plutarch, is sufficient evidence
that he perished iu a fever caused by his own intemperance,
" Diog. Laert. ib. Phaverinus ascribes his death to this poison, and
the epitaph on him implies the same end. See it in Buhle, p. 9. He
died twenty-three years after Plato. Amm. ib. 50.
^' Diog. Laert. 3. Arist. Amm. Buhle, p^67.
'^ Arist. \^t. ex Vel, Transl. Buhle, p. .57. A Greek anonymous
author of his life, after calling him a wretched versifier, brands him as a
' vorax,' and ' inter scorta degens;' but as he .idds epithets, the two first
of which we can ourselves see from Aristotle's works to be false, he can
not claim our belief of the rest of his calumniation. 'Insanus, stultus,
rudis, superbus, loquax.' Buhle, p. 67. Timosus also abuses him, but in
terms which convict themselves of slander, as they are quoted bySuidas,
voc. Arist.
=¦• Amm, Vit. ib, 49,
^ This ode, from its subject, and as a poem of Aristotle's, deserves a
literal translation, — How applicable now to Greece !
O much toiling Virtue I
To the' human race
Their finest chase thro life;
For thy beauties, O virgin !
Even to die
Is the emulating lot of Greece;
And to bear hard labors
Never wearied !
Thou plantestin the mind
A never-dying fruit.
Better than gold or ancestry,
Or sweetly-soothing slumbers.
For thy sake
Jove-born Hercules
And the youths of Leda
Endured great things,
Pursuing thy power in their works.
From desire of thee, Achilles
And Ajax entered into Hades. For
E E 2
HISTORYOF ENGLAND.
420 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK he advanced in years, a direction, which for many
VI- centuries had a greater and more extensive dominion
LITERARY over mankind, than any other production of the hu
man genius has attained.
None of the ancient philosophers composed so
much to benefit as well as to exercise the mind of
man. His works on poetry, rhetoric, government,
ethics, natural history and philosophy, are superior
to any that the ancient world produced, on the topics
which they discuss. He maintained that vice was
suSicient for infelicity, even if the external and bo
dily comforts were abundantly possessed.^" He rea
soned, that the Deity was incorporeal, and was either
intellect itself, or something paramount to intellect;^
and that his providence extended to heavenly things,
and that earthly ones were administered according to
a sympathy with these.^ He maintained that the soul
also was incorporeal; having a fitness and power to
receive impressions upon it, as melted brass that of
a man, or wax that of a Mercury; but having life in
itself, and therefore distinct from the physical and
organic body.^° Hence, tho a dead man has the same
form and figure of body that he had before, yet he
is not therefore a man.^" He said a wise man could
not be without passions, but he would take care to
let them very moderately affect him."" He loved a
For thy lovely form
The offspring of Atarna
Abandoned the sunny day ;
Hence, from illustrious deeds.
The Muses proclaim him immortal.
The daughters of memory !
They venerate the guest-loving Jupiter,
And will reward the constant friend. Diog. Laert. ib. p. 8.
'^ Diog. Laert. Buhle, 26.
" Ibid. 27 Vita Vet. Transl. ib, 59, ^ Diog. Laert. 27.
» Ibid. 28. ¦"' 1 Cudw. 358. ¦" Diog. Laert. 26,
LOSOPHV.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 421
contemplative life, and preferred it to one either of CHA p.
business or pleasure.** He repeated with approbation ^^-
what he called an old saying, which he said h^-d been ijistory
handed down from our ancestors to mankind. That "cholas-
all things were framed by God and consist in him, tic phi-
and that no nature can be sufficient for its own safety,
which has its preservation intrusted to its own care
only, without God;*' and he taught, that whoever
would attain to a blessed and happy life, must par
take of the Deity from its very beginning,'" In all
physical things he is described as the greatest cause-
seeker of all men, and a most laborious inquirer.*'
He searched into the causes of every thing, and
complained of the earlier physiologists, that they
considered only the material elements of things, with
out attending to the two great sources of causation :
the principle of motivity, and the intelligence which
aimed at ends.*" He maintained, that there was more
of purpose and good in the works of nature than in
those of art.*'
_ Besides these sound general principles, he is de
scribed as having an ardent love of truth, and a pro
portionable dislike to all imposition on the mind, and
to the mercenary and vain-glorious sophistry which
was pervading the Grecian world. To these feelings
we seem to owe his logical and metaphysical treatises.
He considered logic to be the investigation of the
probable and the true ; he assigned dialectics and
rhetoric to the probable, but directed his analytical
and philosophical works to the elucidation of the
true; meaning to omit nothing which could tend to its
¦" Diog. Laert. 27. " De Mundo, c. 11.
" De Mundo, c. 11. « Diog L. p. 27. 29.
^° 1 Cudworth, 357. " De Anim. 1. 1. c. 1.
E E 3
LITERARY HISTORYOF
ENGLAND,
422 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK discovery, judgment or use. With this object in view,
VI- he delivers in his Topica and Methodica many pro
positions for the discovery- of truth, from which
probable arguments on every problem might be de
duced. To thejudgment on truth his Analytics refer;
in the prior ones the propositions assumed are judged
of; in the posterior, their composition is investigated.
To the use of what was true belong his Agonistica,
his De Sophisticis Elenchis, and some others. In these
he shews that the sense is the criterion of truth in
the things worked out by the fancy; but the mind, in
what concerns ethics, a family or a state". With a
noble spirit, he makes one end to all studies and pur
suits ; the use of virtue in a perfect life.*® Such is
the brief summary of the objects of his writing:s, as
transmitted to us by Diogenes Laertius, which were
so appreciated by Ammonius, that he asserts that
Aristotle, in his philosophy, has even transcended
the usual bounds of humanity ;*^ an extravagant en
comium, as the Stagirite has rather shewn us what
he wished and aimed to accomplish, than what he
has actually effected.
He has been praised for adding a fifth essence or
element to the four that were commonly assumed as
composing all nature. These, before our modern che
mistry multiplied them, were, air, earth, water and
fire, Aristotle contended that there was yet another,
from which ethereal things were composed, and that
its motion was different from the rest,*" That the
¦" Diog. Laert. 24, 25. Diogenes gives a long list of his multifarious
works, 19-24. ; and Buble has, with great industry, collected a most co
pious Elenchus of their remaining MSB. 157-201, and printed editions,
202-274. '"' Amm. p. 49. Vet. Transl. 59. Perhaps the best Life of Aristotle ia
that of Buhle's, ' Per annos digesta,' in his first volume, p. 80-104,
" Diog, L. p, 27.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 42;J
soul, the principle of thought and life, is something chap.
distinct from the material world, is so just a senti- ^^-
ment, that Aristotle fseems to be reasonable in re- history
quiring, that more elements should be taken into our °c„olas-
consideration, than those which our five senses feel, tic phi-
Moses, from divine authority, has declared the spirit ^° .^-L-
of man to be the breath of God.*' The most distin
guished nations of antiquity had traditions of this
sort, which their greatest reasoners favored ; and
Solomon has given us a distinction on this subject
which there is no benefit in rejecting.**
The writings of Aristotle appear to have been be
yond the taste, and probably, the comprehension of
his contemporaries and country. Theophrastus, his
favorite disciple, to whom he left them, may have
understood and valued them ; but that this elegant
and acute Athenian should, in his disposal of them,
pass by all his ingenious countrymen, and even all
the cultivated states of Greece, and'bequeath them
to Neleus, an obscure inhabitant of an obscure city
of Pergamus, in Asia, whose heirs locked them up
in a chest, seems to imply, that they were composi
tions not suited to his own times and nation, tho
destined to interest a remote posterity. They re
mained in this chest till the Pergamenian kings
searching every where for books, then only manu
scripts, to form a great library in their metropolis,
the descendants of Neleus, fearing to be deprived of
what, tho useless to them, they supposed to be valu
able, at least as property, hid them from human sight
and knowlege in a vault under ground. Here they
lay unknown and untouched for 1 30 years. By that
time the possessors of this buried treasure wanting
" Gen. u. 2. V. 7. =^ Eccles. c. 12. v. 7.
E E 4
HISTORYOF ENGLAND,
424 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK money, and finding that Apellico, a rich citizen of
V^- Athens, was giving large prices for rare works to
LITERARY put [u hls library, they brought Aristotle out of his
sepulchre, and sold them to the wealthy book col
lector. He found them so rotten, from damp and age,
that they would scarcely hang together, and were,
in many parts, illegible ; he had them copied, and
the chasms made by the moisture and worms sup
plied, as well as the ability of the day would allow,
by conjectural insertions, which have generally made
the difficult parts more difficult than before. But
here they slept undisturbed upon his shelves, till
Sylla, about 85 years before the Christian era, coming
to Athens, and seizing this library, transported these,
with their bibliothecal companions, to Ro.ne ; not to
study them, but to make them a part of that library
which he wished also to be a portion of his popular
reputation.*^ ButfortunatelyforAristotleandfor the world, so far
as he has benefited it, there was a man at Rome, Tyran-
nion, who having been carried there a prisoner from
Pontus, was, under the patronage of Cicero, reading
lectures in that city. This expatriated student was
intimate with Sylla's librarian, was himself a great
book collector, and revered the memory of Aristotle.
Seeing the copy of this philosopher's works in Sylla's
library, he obtained permission from his friend to
transcribe it; he communicated his labors to Andro-
hicus Rhodius, who from this MS. first made the
works of Aristotle known to the public; nearly 250
years after the hand which composed them had moul-
"' Prideaux Connect, 4, p. 528. Strabo, I. 13. p. 609. Plutarch
Sylla. Stanley, Hist, Phil, p, 6, lb, Aristot, c, 16,
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. '425
dered into dust.** From this time they began slowly CHAP,
to creep on the attention ofthe learned. One Grecian ^^-
after another, under the emperors, commented upon history
some of them.** A Peripatetic school flourished in scho"las-
great celebrity at Alexandria; and altho Caracalla, "c phi-
believing the story, that Aristotle prepared or sug- t^^^
gested the poison that was thought by some to have
caused Alexander's death, drove the Peripatetics from
Alexandria, and ordered their books to be burnt,*® yet
the reputation of Aristotle continued to increase, until
his writings interested the Gothic nations, and be
came the passionate admiration of the Arabian phi
losophers.*'^ The dominion of Aristotle arose and continued,
from the persuasion, that he was the superior intel
lect among the ancients, and that his works contained
a greater quantity of truth and information than those
of any other author. This conviction prevailed among
the Arabians, and over all Europe, as well as in Engt
land. His philosophy was not adopted here or else
where, because schoolmen taught it, or because the
Spanish Arabs pursued it; its predominance was
founded on the general belief, and that upon the prac
tical experience, of its real superiority. This common
feeling, and its basis, were expressed by the student
consulted at Pisa, by Montaigne, whose general thesis
he says, was, " that the touchstone and standard of
all solid imaginations and of all truths were, their
conformity to the doctrine of Aristotle; all besides
^ Prid, p, 529, Strab. 609. Cicero, Ep, I, 2. and I, 4. Suidas, voc,
Tyran. Plut. LucuUo.
^ Buble bas given an elaborate alphabetical list of his Grecian com
mentators, 1. p, 186-315.
^ Xiphilin in Carac. 329. .
" On his Arabian translators and their commentaries, see Buhle,
315-337. A List of the Latin ones follows, 337-348.
HISTORYOF ENGLAND
426 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK was vain and chimerical, for that he had seen all and
^^' said all,"*^ To us this character sounds extravagant,
LITERARY and we justly deem it to be so, because it is no longer
applicable and proper; but it was neither untrue nor
foolish in the middle ages. No other man could then
stand in competition with Aristotle, for mind, know
lege, acuteness, judgment and utility. His books
actually combined more intellectual excellence and
serviceable treasures of all sorts than those of any
other which had then survived; and they created a
mental ability and. affluence in the world, which with
out them would not have then existed. He certainly
kept natural philosophy united with religion, and
with the belief of a soul, or immaterial principle; and
thus, being the antagonist of atheism and of mate
rialism, and being an indefatigable searcher after
intellectual causation, he was perfectly unitable with
Christianity ; but when, as the progress of knowlege,
the activity of ingenious curiosity, and its successful
researches on all sides brought to the world's per
ception and use, larger stores of information, nevv
truths, and a flood of light on every subject, which
no preceding age had witnessed ; then, the same cor
rect judgment of mankind which had given to Aris
totle his throne, dispossessed him of it. The ancient
intellectual Saturn was deposed by his offspring, the
new mental Jupiter. Friar Bacon, who first saw the
beams of the new day, and was the great herald of
the new sovereignty, yet did justice to the old monarch
who was still governing, and always speaks of Aris
totle with grateful veneration: but by the time that
his namesake lord Bacon lived, the useful revolution
V. 1. c. 25. p. 164.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 4-27
could be deferred no longer; the new power and CHAP.
proficiency of mind which had arisen, the new mines ¦^^'
of knowlege which had been opened, the new pro- history
perty which had been drawn out and manufactured scholas-
into great and beautiful objects and conveniences ^ic phi-
from them, and the better rules of thinking and phi- "J:^^^^^^
losophizing which all these had suggested, led the
first enlarged and congenial mind that could accom
plish the adventure, and that deserved the triumph,
to assume without usurping the sceptre. Lord Bacon
was a commanding and capacious intellect of this
description; and what many in his day, and before
him, had felt to be necessary, discerned to be prac^
ticable, desired to be done, and began to attempt, he
advanced forward singly to achieve and complete.
He shewed the world that the time had arrived for
the substitution of a system of study, thought and
information, superior to that of Aristotle ; he proved
its greater excellence to the conviction of the sound
reasonerand candid observer; he appealed to their im
partial judgment, and he was soon made the Agamem
non of the new philosophy, which after many years
hard-fought siege, and continual battle, destroyed the
prevailing empire of the venerable Peripatetic.
We will subjoin some of Aristotle's opinions on
the most important subjects of the human thought.
ARISTOTLE'S OPINIONS.
TO live well and to act well, are but other expressions for being
happy ; but to live well, rests in this — that we live virtuously.
This is the object and the happiness, and the optimum of life.
Mag. Mor. i . c. 4. O71 the Deity.
You would not wish any one to be so fearless as not to fear the
Deity ; because such a person would not be a brave man, but a
literary
historyof ENGLAND.
428 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK madman. True courage is, therefore, that which neither dreads
VI. all things nor yet fears nothing, c. 5.
It remains that we should summarily speak of the preserving
and maintaining cause of all things ; for it would be like a crime,
that those discoursing of the world should leave out the most
lordly part of it.
It is an ancient opinion, and handed down from their fathers to
all men, that all things have been established to us from God and
thro God, and that no nature is of itself self-sufficient for its own
preservation, deserted by him. De Mundo, c. 11. p. 573.
Wherefore some of the ancients have proceeded to say, that all
these things are full of gods, and seem like images to us by our
eyes, and hearing, and every sense.
God is the preserver of all things, and the genitor of whatever is
perfected in the world, yet not like a workman, so as to be affected
by fatigue or lassitude. 573.
He enjoys the highest and first seat, and from this is named
the Supreme ; and, according to the poet, is placed in heaven, on
the loftiest summit of the universe.
The body nearest to him peculiarly enjoys the benefit of his
power ; then what is next has this advantage, and then succes
sively others, down to ourselves. Hence the earth, and the things
on the earth, as they are in subsistence the farthest from the aid
of God, are weak and incongruous, and mingled with much per
turbation. But inasmuch as the Divine nature is pervading'every
thing, even those which concern us, so it happens that those which
are above us, according as they are near or farther from him, are
participating more or less of his assistance. It is better, there
fore, to say — and it is more becoming and congruous to the
Deity — that the power which has its seat in heaven, both to those
which are the farthest ofiF, and to the nearest, or to express it in one
word, to all things, is the cause of its preservation. 576.
After a high wrought simile, taken from the splendor and power
of the Persian monarchs, he adds : —
But it is far more reverential and becoming to perceive that
He who is seated in the highest habitation, diflPuses his power
thro all the universe, moves both the sun and moon, and actuates
all the heaven, and is the cause of well-being and preservation to
all that are on the earth. 577.
He needs not artificial mechanism, nor the instrumentality of
others. And this seems peculiar to Him, that with ease, and
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 429
by simple movement, he completes all the various forms of CHA P.
things. 578. XI.
After a simile ofthe images with moveable limbs : —
So the Divine nature, by a simple primitive movement, gives
power into sentient things, and from these to others more distant,
till he has permeated all ; one moves another, and this again with
the world. 578.
He illustrates tlie governing of all things by the Deity, by
several similes ; one is, what occurs in an army on the point of
battle : —
" As soon as the trumpet begins to sound, every one that hears
it is in motion : this, takes up his shield, that, puts on his breast
plate, another, his greaves or his helmet, or binds on his belt.
Some bridle their horses, others ascend the chariots, and the whole
force is arrayed in its military order. Then the officers hasten to
their squadrons, and the captains to their companies. The cavalry
ride to the wing, and the light infantry hurry to their stations ;
while all await and obey the orders of their chief commanders, who
put every part into motion, as the general of the assembled army
directs. So it happens in the universe : the one great Mover
animates and directs all thro his immediate instruments, and each
part performs what it is proper that it should do. 582.
" This power is, indeed, unseen and invisible ; but this is no im
pediment to his agency, nor to our belief of it ; for the soul, by
which we live, and by which we inhabit cities and houses, is also
not to be seen, yet it is visible in its works ; for all the culture of
life has been found out and arranged and perceived by it. The
cultivation and planting of the earth, the knowlege of the arts,
the use of laws, the economy of a state, civil administrations,
external wars and interior peace, are its effects. It is also the
soul which pursues our reasonings concerning God ; the most
mighty of all beings, as to his power ; the most excellent, as to his
beauty ; immortal in his existence, and most exalted in virtue.
Hence, tho he is not to be seen by any mortal nature, yet he is
made visible by his works ; and all things that are done in the air,
on earth, or in the waters, we pronounce to be the operations of
God, the ruler of the world. From Him, as Empedocles the
physiologist said, proceed whatsoever will be, whatsoever are, and
whatsoever have been. From Him the trees derive their vegeta
tion ; from Him, men, women, beasts and birds, and water-
nourished fish. 583.
LITERARY'
HISTORYOF
430 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK " We may, as a petty simile, compare the world to those stones
VI, called umbilical, the stones in arches, which, lying in the middle
upon the inclining ones on each side, keep the whole scheme ofthe
arch in harmony and in order, and immoveable — this same rela-
ENGLAND. tion has God in the world, maintaining the hai'mony and salvation
' ^^ ' of the whole. 584. But his place is above : the pure exalted
among the pure : which place we call heaven, Ouranos, the
boundary of what is above ; or Olympus, that is, all-radiant, and
therefore separated from all darkness and disorderly movement
which wind and tempests occasion, as Homer describes it. 585.
All human-kind give witness of this, by ascribing to God the
regions above, and therefore all men who pray lift up their hands
towards heaven. 585. Hence the race of the pious pre-eminently
honor the Divinity. 586.
" On the whole, what a pilot is to a ship, what the driver is to
a chariot, what the leader is to a dance, what the law is in a city,
and a general in an army,- God is in the universe. 587.
" God is One, tho with many names, 589. He is the causer
of all things, 590. He holds the beginning and the end, and the
middle of all things; and whoever wishes to be blessed and happy,
must participate in Him." 592.
In another work he says, " The energy of God is immortality ;
that is, eternal life. Motion is therefore eternal in the Deity.
De Ccelo, 2. c. 3. God and nature make nothing in vain, ib. 1. c. 5.
" There is but one only Mover, and several inferior deities.
" All that is added about the human shape of these deities, is
nothing else but fiction, invented on purpose to instruct the cofti-
mon people, and engage them to an observance of good laws.
" All must be reduced to one only primitive substance, and to
several inferior substances, which govern in subordination to the
first. " This is the genuine doctrine of the ancients, which has hap
pily escaped from the wreck of truth, amidst the rocks of vulgar
errors and poetic fables." — Met. 1. 14. c. 8. p. 1003.
« The supreme mind is by its nature prior to all beings. He has
a sovereign dominion over all." Anim. 1. c. 7. p. 628.
" God is a Supreme Intelligence, which acts with order, pro
portion and design, and is the source of all that is good, excellent
and just." — Met. 1. 14. c. 10. p. 1005.
" The first principle is neither the fire, nor the earth, nor the
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 431
water, nor any thing that is the object of sense : but a spiritual CHAP.
substance is the cause of the universe, and the source of all the XI,
order, and all the beauties, as well as of all the motions and all the
forms which we so much admire in it — Met, 1. 2. c. 3. p. 844, 5. yp .j.jjj,
" The Eternal and Living Being, the most noble of all beings, scholas-
a substance entirely distinct from matter ; without extension, with- tic piu-
out division, without parts, and without succession ; who under- ^°^°"" ' ,
stands every thing by one single act, and continuing himself
immoveable, gives motion to all things, and enjoys in himself
a perfect happiness, as knowing and contemplating himself with
infinite pleasure." — Met. 1. 14. c. 7. p. 1000.
He says, " that men have generally a ^atTEiaii, a vaticination,
(a prophetic feeling) in their minds concerning gods : — to wit,
that men are not themselves the highest beings, but that there is
a rank of intellectual beings, superior to men, the chief of which
is the Supreme Deity, concerning whom there is, indeed, in all, the
greatest ftanTsia, or divining sentiment," — De Ccel, 1, 2,
So he also says, " All men have a persuasion or conviction con
cerning the gods ; and all, both Barbarians and Greeks, ascribe a
place in the highest to the Divinity, as that which is immortal is
suited to an immortal being. If, therefore, there be any thing di
vine, as, indeed, there is, the body of the heavens must be diffe
rent from that ofthe elements — Ccel. 1. c. 3.
Also, " It is most agreeable to that f^ccmm concerning the
gods,.which all men have in their minds, to suppose the heaven to
be a quintessence distinct from the elements, and therefore iii-
corruptible." — L. 2.
" We account the gods most of all happy. Now what moral
actions can we attribute to them ? Those of justice amongst one
another ? as if it were not ridiculous to suppose the gods to make
contracts and bargains among themselves, and the like. Of forti
tude and magnanimity ? as if they had- their fears, dangers, and
difficulties to encounter withal. Those of liberality ? as if they
had such a thing as money too, and there were among them some
indigent to receive alms. Or shall we ascribe to them the actions
of temperance ? But would it not be a reproachful praise to say,
that they have no evil desires.
« Thus, if we pursue all the practical virtues, we find them to
be smair, and unworthy of the gods.
" Yet we all believe the gods to live and act, and not to sleep,
like Endymion.
432 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK " But if all practice be taken away, and, much more, all action,
VI. what is left to them excepi contemplation? 0£«p.a." 304.
Eth. 1. 10. c. 8.
"Jtorv Jf " Also, animals, who are deprived of contemplation, partake not
ENGLAND, of happiocss. To the gods, all their life is happy. To men, so far
' ^' ' as it approaches contemplation. But brute animals, which do not
at all contemplate, partake not at all of happiness."
" A prince should seem always sedulous about the worship of
the gods ; for men are less afraid of suffering any injustice from
those who are thought to be religiously disposed, and to care for
the gods ; nor will they conspire against such, as they think the
gods will be their allies." c. 11
Aristotle was chiefly studied during the middle
ages, in his Categories or Predicaments. As in these
and their commentators most of the English students
rested, tho the more ambitious penetrated into his
other works, and became, by their proficiency in them,
the leaders and doctors ofthe scholastic philosophy,
it will be sufficient for our present historical objects
to give a sketch of this celebrated work.*^
The object of Porphyry, in his Isagoge, was to elu
cidate what he called the Predicables, before the scho
lar undertook the comprehension ofthe great master's
predicaments. The predicables were the five terms
already noticed, genius, species, difference, the pro
prium and accident. The categories or predicaments,
within which Aristotle endeavored to embrace and
confine all that was known, and had been expressed
by language, were ten ; — substance, quantity, rela
tion, quality, place, time, acting, suffering, situation
and habit. Under these, he thought that all which
=' I quote the edition of Buhle, Bipont, 1791. Vol. 1. p 445, 525.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 433
mankind knew of nature, and to which they had ap- CHAP.
propriated words, might be classed, and to these he ^^-
attempted to reduce their multifarious variety. history OF THE
ANALYSIS OF ARISTOTLE'S CATEGORIES.
He begins his work very abruptly, and without any enunciation
of his subject or his purpose, by telling us that words are of three
kinds : — I. The Homonyma ; of which the name only is common
to many ; as animal, but which differ in their specific meaning ;
for the word animal may signify both a real man and a painted
animal. II. The Synonymous ; of which the name and meaning
are common to many ; as animal, when it signifies a man and an
ox as living beings. HI. The Paronyma ; where the different
things have their appellation from some accidental thing ; as gram
marian, from one who has learnt grammar ; and brave, from one
who happens to have bravery.*'
Of things or words mentioned, some are in a state of conjunc
tion ; as, a man runs ; and some without it, as when we speak of
man alone, or running, by itself.
Some, also, are spoken of some subject,"" and spme are in none.
T'he term man is mentioned of a subject, as of some man, but is
in no subject ; and some are in a subject, but are spoken of no
subject, as grammar ; this is in a subject, for it is in the soul, but
it is no subject of itself. So white is in a subject, because it is in
a body, but it is not itself a subject, for color is no where by it
self, it is always in some body. Some things, however, are both
spoken of a subject and are in a subject ; as knowlege ; it is in a
subject, for it is in the soul ; and it is spoken of a subject, for it
is spoken of grammar. Again, some are neither in a subject nor
spoken of any subject ; as, a man, or ahorse ; for neither of these
mean, nor is in any particular man or horse."'
After a few more subtle distinctions of this sort, thus abruptly
introduced, and without any indication of their ulterior applica
bility, Aristotle comes to his Predicaments.
^ Buhle, Bipont. 1791. vol. 1. p. 446.
™ Aristotle defines what he means by being in a subject, thus: that
which exists in another, liot as a part of it, yet which can never be
separated from it. p. 447-
" lb; 447.
Vol, IV, F f
434 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK Of different genera, he says, there are many differences, accord-
VI. ing to their species : thus, in animal and knowlege, animals differ
in being pedestrian and bipeds, in having wings or being aquatic ;
literary ^^^ knowlege or science has none of these dissimilarities, for one
HISTORYOF ^ 1 1 i_ f* * "
EN-GLAND, braoch of knowlege does not differ from another branch ot it, in
^ being a biped,''
Of those terms which are expressed without any conjunction,
each must mean one of these ten things : it either signifies a sub
stance, or its quantity or quality ; or its relation to something else ;
or its place, in space or time ; or its individual position ; or what
it has ; or what it is doing ; or what it is suffering. These ten cir
cumstances he names the substance, the quantum, the quale, the
relation or ad quid, the ubi, the quando, the situs, the habere or
habitus, the agere and pati, or the actio and passio. He thus se
verally illustrates them, beginning with the substance, by which
he means a subsisting or existing thing, and not that substantial
solidity which we now chiefly use the word to express."^
Substance, a man — or a horse.
Quantum, how nluch ? — two cubits — three cubits.
Quale, what sort ? — white — a grammarian.
Relation, to what ? — double — ^half — greater.
Ubi, where ? — in the forum — the lyceum.
Quando, when ? — yesterday — the day before.
Situs, position — reclined — sitting.
Habere, having— has shoes on — ^is armed.
Agere, action — cuts — burns.
Pati, suffering — is cut — is burnt.
Each of these categories, of itself, neither affirms nor denies any
thing ; but from their conjunction with each other, some negation
or affirmation arises.
All affirmation or negation seems to be, that what is said is
either true or false ; but of words used without any conjunction,
none can be either ti'ue or false ; as to pronounce by itself, man, or
white ; runs, or conquers. Each single term neither asserts nor
denies any thing."*
Substance : — That is most eminently, and primarily, and
cTiiefly denominated substance, which cannot be said of any sub
ject, nor is in any ; as, a man, a horse. But the secondary sub-
"= Buhle, Bipont. vol. l. p. 448, w lb. p. 449, 450,
"' Ib. p. 450,
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES, 435
stances are those in whose species these primary substances are, CHAP.
which, indeed, are the genera of these species ; as, a certain man, XI.
in specie, is included in the general term, man ; but the genus of
thespecies is animal. Hence these are called secondary substances;
as man, and animal.'"
Of those things which are spoken of the subject of the things
predicated, it is necessary that the name and the definition be pre
dicated of it ; as man, of each individual man ; and also the name,
for you would say that an individual person, as Socrates, was a
man; hence the definition of a man would be predicated of him
also, for he is both man and animal. Tlierefore, both the name
and the definition of the thing predicated or spoken of, is predi
cated of its subject ; but ofthe things which are in a subject, for
the most part, neither name nor definition is predicated. In some,
indeed, the name may, but the definition cannot be. Thus, white,
in a subject, as it is in a body, may be predicated of the subject,
for a body is white ; but the definition of white can never be pre
dicated of body, because body may have any other color, and white
is not exclusively peculiar to it.""
All other things are either spoken of the subjects, the primary
substances, or are in those very subjects ; as animal may be pre
dicated of man in general, therefore, of every individual man ; but
if it could not have been affirmed of any one man, neither could
it have been spoken of man altogether. So color, is in body, and
therefore in some bodies; for if it be in no particular body, it can
not be in body at all. Hence all other things are spoken either
of the first subjects that are primary substances, or are in those
very subjects; therefore, unless there were primary substances, it
is impossible that there could be any others."'
Of the secondary substances, substance is rather a species than
a genus, for it is nearer to the first substance. If any one would
explain the first substance, he would more knowingly and properly
answer, if he elucidated it by the species than by the genus : thus,
in explaining what a particular man, as Demosthenes, was, he
would do it more clearly if he said a man, tl^an if he said an
animal ; tho that would be also true ; because to be a man is
more peculiarly the property of any particular person, than to be
an animal, which many other things, not men, also are. So, if
talking of any tree, as, an olive, or a laurel, he would illustrate
"5 Buhle, Bipont. vol. l. p. 451- '° ^^' P' '^^^' ^'
"' Arist. Bipont. vol. l. p. 452. F F 2
4S6 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK his meaning more perspicuously if he said it was a tree, than if
\T. he called it a vegetable ; because roses and lilies are also vegeta-
bles. Therefore, the first substances, because they are the sub-
i.iTERA R Y ^^^ ^^ ^jj jjjjjgyg^ a^^ all other things, are predicated of them, or
II ISTOR^'OF " •iiii* l^iGU
ENGLAND, are in them, are pre-eminently called primai-y substances.
~ ^ ' Of the species themselves which are not genera, no one is more
a substance than another ; for we shall explain nothing more
clearly of any particular person, by saying, he is a man, than of
any horse, to declare that it is a horse. So in the primary sub
stances, no one is more a substance than another ; any man is
not more a substance than any ox ; therefore, after the primary
substances, all the species and genera among every thing else,
may be suitably called secondary substances."'
As the primary substances are subjects to all others, and all
other things are predicated or affirmed of them, or are in them,
they are most properly called substances. But as the primary
substances are to all others, so are their species and genera to aU
others ; for of them all other things may be predicated. Hence,
when you say that a certain man is a grammarian, j'ou declare
that he is a grammatical man, and a grammatical animal. So of
a cow, — if black, would be both a black cow and a black animal,
and also, a black quadruped.'"
It is common to every substance not to be in a subject; for the
primary substance is neither in a subject, nor is it spoken of a
subject ; and it is manifest that none ofthe secondary substances
can be in a subject; for man is affirmed of the subject ; a parti
cular man, as Socrates ; but man is not in that subject; so animal
is mentioned of the same particular man, but animal is not in him.
So difference is not in a subject. It may be said of Socrates as
a subject, that he was a pedestrian and a biped; but these are not
in a subject, for neither pedestrian nor biped was in Socrates."
There is this circumstance in all substances and differences^
that all tilings are assertible synonymously of them ; for all affir
mations concerning them, are either of individuals or of species.
Of a primary substance there can be no predication, for it is
spoken of no subject; but ofthe secondary substances, the species
is affirmable of the individual. Primary substances admit of a
definition, both of species and genera ; and the species, a defini
tion of genus ; for whatever is said of the thing predicated of, may
"= Arist. Bipont. vol. 1. p. 453. 09 lyd. p. 454.
" Ibid, p. 455. 7. ibij p. ^^e.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 437
he said of its subject ; so, both species and individuals admit of a c II A P.
definition of differences ; therefore all things are spoken synony- XI.
mously of substances and differences,"
All substance seems to signify some particular thing. This is
true beyond all controversy, ofthe primary substances. The indi
vidual one thing is that which they denote. The secondary sub
stances seem to signify this by afigure of denomination; as, where
any one says, man or animal. Yet this is not true; but rather
some such thing is denoted ; but it is not one subject, as a primary
substance points to; for man and animal are terms mentioned of,
and referrible to, a great multitude of individuals ; nor does it
simply mean any such sort of thing as white, for it signifies no
other white than such a particular one.'^
There is also this property in substances, that they have no
contraries ; for what can be contrary to a primary substance ? as
to a certain man or a certain animal. There is no contrary to a
man or an animal ; nor is this peculiar to substances, but belongs
also to other predicaments ; as to the quantum, There is no con
trary to two cubits, or to three, or to the number ten ; for who
would say that much was the contrary of little, or great to small?
no defined quantities have any contraries.'''
Substance seems also not to admit of more or less ; vvhat it is,
is the thing mentioned ; but because every substance is what it
is, it cannot be either more or less. Suppose the substance was a
man, a man cannot be greater or less than himself, or to another.
One man is not more a man than another, as one white is whiter
than another; or as one degree of beauty is greater than another ;
or as one thing is more hot than others.'^
But it seems to be expressly proprium, or peculiar to substance,
that as one in number, it is susceptible of contraries ; but no one
can affirm of what are not substances, that what is one in number
has contraries ; for color, which is thus single, cannot be in any
thing both white and black ; nor the same action good and bad ;
but a single substance, as'one man, is sometimes white and some
times black ; sometimes hot and sometimes cold ; now good, and
hereafter bad. So the same speech may not be both true and
false. Thus, if we should say, Socrates is sitting ; this is true ;
but if he should at that moment rise up, it becomes a falsehood.'"
Quantity is either discrete or continuous, and is one thing.
7271
Arist Ibid,
. Bipont.
p. 460.
vol. 1,
P-
458. Ibid. r
p. 460,
F3
7376
Ibid.
Ibid.
P'P-
459.462.
430 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK from its parts having a contiguous position as to each other, and
"^T. iinother thing, when they are not so. Numbers and speech are
] discrete, or disconnected quantity ; a line, a superfices, or a body,
HISTORYOF ^^ ^ continuous one; such are place and time; for in numbers
ENGLAND, there is no common term for the parts of a number in which they
" ' may cohere. Thus, if two fives be the parts of the number ten,
the five and five do not cohere by any common term, but are dis
tinct, though they make up the number ten. So in speech, we
measure' its quantity by long and short syllables, as in an oration;
yet there is no common term by which the syllables cohere toge
ther, but every one is distinct."
Quality is the relation which any thing has to another ; as
greater, double. On this subject, Aristotle makes many nice dis
tinctions, and ends his chapter with intimating that it might be
true to say, that no substance was among related things ; but as
it would be difficult, for any who had not often considered the
point, to lay down any certainty upon it, he proceeds to a further
discussion of this predicament, under two distinctions of it, in the
Quali and the Qualitate ; calling that the quality, according to
which the quales are said to be."
The Quantum receives neither more nor less ; but it is a pro
perty of the Qualitas, that it is equal or unequal.
Of the wpof Tl, or Relation.
Such things are said to be irfoa- n ; or, ' related to something ;'
as far as whatever they are, they are said to be of others, or in
some manner related to one thing ; what is greater, is so to some
thing else; thus, double to single.
There are these relatives — habit, disposition, knowlege, sense
and position ; for all these are spoken of other things : as habit is
the habit of some one ; knowlege is the knowlege of some one ;
position is also where some real thing is situated.
There is also contrariety in things related; as, virtue is contrary
to vice, and knowlege to ignorance, but yet not in all ; for there
is nothing contrary to a double or a triple, but they have the more
and less, are like and unlike, and differ in degree; and so equal
and unequal."*
All relatives are conversive; as a servant is the servant of some
master, and a master the lord of some servant. Relatives also
" Arist. Bipont. vol. 1. p. 465. 's Ibid, c 7. p. 486.
" Ibid. p. 474. '^
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 439
fexist together in nature, as, double and a half; and, where there CHAP,
IS a master there is a servant. They are likewise taken away to- XI.
gether ; take away the servant, and there is no master ; and yet
this does not occur in all things, for the knowable taken away, '"^^o"^^
OF TIIIL
takes away knowlege; yet if knowlege be taken away, that will scholas-
not take away the knowable.^" tic phi-
His next chapter is devoted to his other predicaments, action ^osophy.
and passion ; the quando, ubi, and habere."' He considers the
opposites and contraries, and the prior and posterior ; and after
some remarks on these together,^^ he proceeds to the topic of
Motion, of which he makes six different kinds ; generation, cor
ruption, increase, diminution, alteration, and change of place ;
by which it is manifest that he calls mere change, and the actions
of things on each other, specific motions. But with this liberty he
might have made a thousand different heads of motion, instead of
the six he has chosen. His chapter on the habere, or the modes
of having, elucidates his distinctions of it ; as in disposition, to
have science and virtue ; in quantity, to have some magnitude,
as of four cubits ; about some body, as a robe; or in a part, as a
ring on a finger ; or in a vessel, as corn and wine ; or in posses
sion, as a field, or house."^
This analysis of a system, now unanimously per
mitted by the intellectual world to become obsolete,
and only adverted to at present as a matter of passed
history, will suffice to shew what sort of topics amused
our ancestors in their Aristotelian studies. From the
Categories, they who loved them most deeply, passed
to his other arguing works ; his Analytics, his To^
pics, his Elenchi Sophistici, and his Metaphysics ;
but most were contented with the Categories.
The system and meaning of Aristotle in these Ca- The aim
tegories are not easy to be traced, from the extreme Aristot1e''s
brevity with which he has expressed them, but they Categories.
lead our minds to the following observations :
He considered nature as it -was then known, and
"" Arist. Bipont. vol. 1. p, 480, 1. "' Ibid. c. 7. p. 500.
"' Ibid, p. 501-520. "' Ibid. p. 521, 4.
F F 4
HISTORYOF ENGLAND
440 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK language as expressing what was known. He did
22_ not contemplate any progress in science, nor antici-
LiTERARY pate its advancement, and therefore did not mean to
frame any system for extending it : he felt himself to
be living in an highly cultivated age, which had suc
ceeded to other periods and nations, like the Egyp
tian and Ethiopian, the Phenician and the Chaldean,
which had been all greatly celebrated for their wis
dom and learning; and therefore he did not suppose
that nature was not sufficiently known, nor foresee
the immense additions which the last three centuries
have made to it; nor, consequently, did he think of
devising any means to promote the discovery of what
he did not perceive to be deficient, nor believe to be
penetrable by mortal intellect.
Confining his view, or as he intended, extending
it, to all that was then known of nature and man, he
observed that all properties and words had reference
to some particular thing, which he called a subject ;
there was always something to which his predi
caments were applicable, or in which they inhered :
something was substance ; had quantity or quality,
or relation ; was in some place, time, or position, and
was having, doing, or suffering; this something he
called a subject ; it was a fox, a vulture, a boy, or a
horse, or any analogous thing that was spoken of.
This subject was also, in his conception, a sub
stance, not as we now usually mean by the term a
solid substantial thing, but rather a subsisting thing.
The Aristotelian substance maybe considered to mean
what the word subsistence may be used to express.
Considering the word used to denote subsistences,
or substances in this meaning, he perceived that many
related to what our metaphysicians have usually called
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 441
abstract ideas ; they did not signify any particular Cil A p.
subject or individual, as the brown horse in the field, _^
or Socrates, or the elm-tree in that hedge, but were history
general terms for all the individuals of these classes; °^,ZT^,,
as, a horse, a man, a tree ; these terms, and the ideas ^ic phi-
or things which they implied, he called primary sub- ^f!!J^
stances ; his primary substances were therefore our
general terms or abstract ideas ; as a ship, a palace,
a king, and not any particular king, palace, or ship.
All other substances, that is, all really and visibly
existing things, he named secondary substances ;
thus, winds or castle, the Thames, Bonaparte, lord
Nelson, or the duke of WeUington, would be some
of his secondary substances ; as, a fortress, a river,
an emperor, an admiral, or a general, would be, in
his philosophical vocabulary, primary ones.
He found other terms, also, like his primary sub
stances, having reference to no precise individual
object, yet to be applied to, or enumerated of them;
as the word animal ; he remarked, that many different
classes of things were implied by it, as birds, beasts,
fishes and insects, as well as men. He therefore dis
tinguished these as comprising a separate body of
words, and he named them genera, and the classes
they comprehended, either of words or things, he
called species ; animal was a genus; and man, beast,
and bird, were species of that genus, for, however
dissimilar to each other, they all agreed in being
animals. Another class of words and actual properties he
found to be arrangeable undertheterm differences.
Each species had some qualities which distinguished
them from each other ; as, that man is rational ; so
man and some animals are unlike others, in being
442 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK biped ; as some creatures are in being pedestrian,
J;2l and others volatile; some are carnivorous, and others
LITERARY feed on grass ; all these distinctions he called difier-
EN^cLrsD,^ ences. While again, each class of animals had some-
' — •' — ' thing peculiarly and solely its own ; as man's risibi
lity ; and these he called propkium. All the change
able actions and qualities of things, which might or
might not be in them, or done by them, as their mo
tions, positions, colors, &c. he named accidents,
because they were variable circumstances.
But the ten things discriminated in his ten predi
caments seemed to him to comprehend all known
nature, and all the terms which language was using
to express whatever we knew in it, and all that was
doing in it. Every known thing, and every used term,
was either a substance, which was his first predica
ment, or it expressed quantity, quality, relation, place,
time, position, action, suffering or having, which were
his other nine categories or predicaments.
Thus he considered himself to have classed all na
ture and all languages under these ten distinctions ;
and he proposed to his pupils to study nature and
language in this classification.
He cannot be justly accused for not having pro
vided for the enlargement of knowlege, for he does
not appear to have anticipated such a thing, and it
did not come within his object His aim was to lead
his scholars to acquire and arrange what was known,
and not to explore what was knowable. His system
did not reach to the unknown, nor direct to it ; it
was applied to knowlege as it existed in his day ;
and as far as his system is beneficial, it is equally
applicable to all the knowlege that exists at any suc
ceeding time, however greatly it may have been muL
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 443
tiplied, because the largest amount of it will still be C ii A p.
arrangeable under his categorical classifications. ^^-
That Aristotle's Predicaments have this universal history
applicability, will be manifest to all who study them, scholas-
Whether it will be now useful to arrange our vast ''^^ p"'-
knowlege under his predicaments, and whether far - — v — ^
more beneficial classifications have not since been
constructed, and may not now be made, are dif
ferent questions.
Our improvements do not impeach his original in
genuity, nor disprove the great benefits which it has,
in former ages, occasioned to mankind.
Like many laws, once very wise and useful, it has
now become obsolete, and has been exceedingly
abused : and it would be absurd to praise in order to
revive it. But let us be just to the departed genius
to which we have been indebted, and not ridicule
and revile what we should not have been enabled to
look down upon, if it had not existed and previously
improved us.^
'^ The remarks of Pere Rapin on Aristotle's Ethics deserve to be in
serted. ' Tho the morals of Aristotle have the same foundation, the same
principles, the same economy, with those of Plato ; and tho, as Tally
remarks, there is no essential difference between the one and the other,
yet it must be confessed, that Aristotle formed this whole doctrine into
a more regular body, not only by distinguishing the characters of public
and private virtue, the prudence of a civil governor and that of the
master of a family, but likewise by establishing, in his books to Nico-
machus, the two thiugs which make the very life and soul of morality,
a last end or happiness, and the means of attaining it. In the first book,
he proves that there is such an ultimate happiness, which man is capable
of enjoying. In the next eight which follow, he shews the way how to
arrive at this happiness. And in the tenth and last, he declares tbat this
happiness consists in the most noble actions of human nature, as conver
sant about the most excellent object. These are Aristotle's morals,
the most accurate and complete, and the best methodized, of all the
heathen systems. Every thing is there disposed in so artful a manner,
and the several parts are so nicely connected with each other and have
all so direct a tendency to the main end, that this must be acknowleged
for one ofthe most accomplished pieces of antiquity. For it turns alto
gether on tbat admirable method ofanalysis so familiar to this great author,
who, by that art, reduces the end to tbe means, in the same manner as we
444 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK refer the parts to the whole, or the effects to the cause. And tho in his
¦^-j third book of Ethics he declares, that it is impossible to obseiTe an exact
'_ method on this subject, by reason of common infirmit}' and instabilitv,
LITERARY '^"'^ '''^ changeable nature of human actions, yet he is still regular to ad-
HiSTORYOF Hiira'io"- But nothing has so much advanced tbe glory of Aristotle's
ENGLAND '"orals as the general pobty of the world, there being scarce any well-
regulated government but what is founded on this bottom ; for which
reason it was studiously declined by Machiavel,as too good and virtuous
to enter into his schemes, who advanced no other arts of empire but those
of falsehood and villany.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 4^15
CHAP. XIL
HISTORY OF THE SCHOLASTIC PHILOSOPHY.
Joannes Erigena's De Divisione Natures ; — Abelard's Life
and Works; — The most famous Doctors of the School
men; — Al Gazel; — Duns Scotus, and Occam on the
Universals.
Ihe eleventh century, as it closed, was distin- Origin of
guished by the rise of those great discussions wbich lastic Phi-
became afterwards distinguished by the title of the l"sophy. ^
Scholastic Philosophy. At first, the sincere efforts
of awakened mind, springing to exert itself with the
hope of achieving great results ; eager to free itself
from error, and seeking to penetrate the recesses of
truth, and to acquire an illumination of knowlege
which had not then been attained ; they yet failed to
realize the brilliant expectations which they con
ceived and excited, and introduced three ages of
verbal warfare and of arguing subtlety, which gave
the mind new acuteness and agility, but added no
information, and discovered no truth. They have
left nothing to mankind but an expanded lesson of
the uselessness of all dialectical logomachy.
Its primitive source was, unquestionably, the works
of Aristotle which have been already noticed ; but the
application of this form and exercise ofthe mind to
theology, appears in the works ascribed to Dionysius
Areopagita, and in those of Gregorius Theologus,
and of Maximus.* From these compositions that
' Erigena refers to the. works ascribed to Dionysius Areopagita, and to
Gregorius Theologus, as liis sources ; and also to Maximus, whose Scholia
on Gregory he translated into Latin, See them printed at the end of bis
own work, Oxon. 1681.
Joannes
446 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK student was principally formed, in the eighth cen-
'^'^- tury, who first brought these studies to the notice of
England and of Europe.
This individual, the earliest writer that appears to
have introduced into the west that subtilizing spirit
Erigena. of logical and metaphysical reasoning on the abstract
subjects of human thought, which characterise the
schoolmen, was John the Irishman, usually called
Joannes Scotus, or Ekigena, which implies ' born
in Erin,' or Ireland. He was the favored literary
friend of two of the greatest sovereigns of modern
times, Charlemagne and Alfred;* and also of Charles
the Bald. To ' Carolo Gloriossimo' he addresses his
Latin translation of the Greek Scholia of Maximus
on Gregory Theologus, a work of very refined meta
physical disquisitions on the Deity.' He translated
also the Hierarchy of Dionysius-.^ His original work
' on the Vision of God,' has eluded modern research ;
but his largest composition, ' De Divisione Naturse,'
was found, and printed at Oxford by Mr. Gale, in
1681. It procured him great distinction in his day.'
In this work he has thrown his ideas into the form
of a dialogue; but rather for the purpose of more
fully expressing them, than with any attempt at dis
crimination of character ; and as it is the composi
tion of one who was so esteemed and patronized by
' Hist. Angl. Sax. v, 3, p, 390, 4th edition.
^ See his dedication in Gale's edition of his De Div. Nat.
' Malmesbury mentions this de Pont, 1. 5.
* Anastasius said truly in his letter to Charles, that he was astonished
how such a \h barbarus, placed in the very ends of the world, so remote
from conversation with mankind, as this Irishman John was, could com
prehend such things with bis intellect, and transfuse them into another
language so ably.. He justly ascribes it to his vivacious genius, that
quality in which Ireland has never been deficient. — Sed hoc operatus est
iile artifex spiritus qui hunc ardentem pariter et loquentem fecit, Anast,
ap. Testim. prefixed by Gale to his edition of the work.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 417
Charlemagne and our Alfred the Great, and is known C ha p.
to few, and has many curious tho too-refining opi- ^^^•
nions, we will add a synopsis of the work. It will
be fairer to see his sentiments in his own statement
of them, than to give from others any general cha
racter of them.®
Synopsis of Joannes Erigena's De Divisione Natures,
He begins by remarking, that he had often thought that the
primary division of all things which can be perceived by the mind,
or which exceed its understanding, ought to be into those things
flfhich are, and into those which are not ; and he asks whether the
word Nature might not be used as a general term that would com
prehend all of these — his friend assenting, he proceeds to divide
nature firom four differences into four species.
The first of these would be into that which creates, and is not
created. — II. That which is created, and creates. — HI. That which
is created, but does not create. — IV. That which is neither creating
nor is created.
He speaks with some subtleties as to what is existence and
what is not, p. 2. He considers the future felicity of the beatified
to be " no other than the pure and immediate contemplation of the
divine essence itself," p. 3 ; and much of his first book is on the
Theophania or Divine Vision, and on the divine nature, p. 6, and
its creative energy, and on its essence, goodness and wisdom.
He considers it under the distinctions of the Aristotelian catego
ries, and expands into much metaphysical refinement on logical
" substantia."
- He thus describes, himself, the subjects ofhis second and third
books : — ' In the second, we have disputed of nature as created
and as creating. We said, that this subsisted in the principles of
° Mr, Berrington has ably stated one of the main points of Erigena's
work. ' This general doctrine is deduced, that as all things originally
were contained in God, and proceeded from him into the different classes
by which they are now distinguished, so shall they finally return to him,
and be resolved into the sohrce from which they came : in other words,
that, as before the world was created, there was no being but God, and
the causes of all things were in him, so, after the end ofthe world, theie
will be no being but God, and the causes of all things in him. This final
resolution he ^sewhere denominates deification, or, in the Greek language,
which he affected to use, 9e»<ri;.' Lit, Hist. p. 173,
448 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK things, that is, in their primordial causes. By tlie Cause of all
yi. things, wliich is Supreme Goodness, whose property it is, by his
ineffable might, to produce all things from non-existing into
HISTORYOF existence, nature is created. The other things which arise after-
ENGLAND, wards, he does not cease to create by his participation.' p. 160.
^^ ¦' ' 'The third book disputes of nature created but not creating;
that is, of the extreme effect of the primordial causes which obtain
the lowest portion of all things ; for the motions Of the progres
sions of the universe cease in them, not having any thing lower
to issue, because it is established in bodies. In this, we have con
sidered many points relating to the primordial causes, and of God,
and of his image in the mind, reason and sense, and of what no
thing all things are made, and how the only generated word of
God both made all things and is in all. We also treated a little on
the works of the first intelligible work up to the fifth day,' p. 16] .
There is much curious disquisition on all these subjects, and
especially on the latter, which is, indeed, a commentary on the
first chapter of Genesis. Of this we will select a few things on
the production of animals.
' In the preceding construction of nature, during the first four
days, there is no mention of the soul, neither simply nor abso
lutely, nor with the addition of life ; we may reasonably in
quire, why?
' There are some who say, that the elements of this world, the
heaven with its stars, the aether with its planets, the air with its
clouds, winds, lightnings and other perturbations ; tlie water and
its ever moving waves, and the earth with all its herbs and trees,
are not only without a soul, but also without any kind of life ; and
therefore, that in the operations of the first four days no expres
sion of a soul or life is introduced. But Plato, the chief of phi
losophers, and those about him, asserted, not only the general
life ofthe world, but that no species adherent to bodies, nor any
bodies, were destitute of life. The best expositors of scripture
favor this, by affirming that plants, trees, and all which spring
from the earth, possess life ; the nature of things does not allow
it to be otherwise; for if there be no matter which makes a body
without a species, and if no species subsist without a proper sub
stance, no substance can be without a vital motion, which con
tains it and causes it to subsist. All that is naturally moved must
take the beginning of its motion from some life ; therefore, every
created thing has life in itself, or is a partaker of life, and in
some manner living, whether the movement of life manifestly
HISTORY
OF THE
DURING THE JNHDDLE AGES. 449
appears in it or not. Its sensible species indicates that it is go- C II A P,
verned by life, but, as St. Austin says, if we inquire who origi- XII.
nated body, we are inquiring for him who is the most beautiful
and special of all things. Every species is from him ; and who is
this but the only God, the sole truth and conservator of all ; the scholas-
first and highest essence ? "c phi-
He considers every particular life to be part of what he calls ^°^"''"'^-
general existence— a mundane soul — a community of life with
which nature has been endued by its Creator, and which, like a
fount of life, distributes it to all visible things under the Divine
ordination ; as the sun, perceived by our senses, pours round eveiy
where its rays ; but with this difference, that the solar beams can
not penetrate every thing — they cannot pass into the interior of
many bodies ; but no creature that is perceptible by our senses,
or intelligible by our minds, is without life. Hence, as their com
position and formation arise from the administration of their pro
per life, so, by its laws, their dissolution, infirmity, and ret;urn
into those things fi-om which they were taken, occur. The same
life which, vivifies the force of the seeds does not desert them in
dissolution, but continues to adhere to them, and even to dissolve
them, and then begins again to vivify. Hence that dissolution
which is called the death of the body, is a dissolution of its matter
to our senses, but not of its nature, which is in itself inseparable,
and is always together, and is not segregated by spaces of places
and times. Thus man does not cease to be a man — he is body and
soul. If he were always man, he would always be body and soul.
Wlien his material particles separate on death, yet they are still
what they had been, the component parts of his body. The soul
deserts it as a whole, but, by a loftier speculation, may be con
ceived to continue to govern the divided particles ; for being a
spirit itself, void of all corporeal grossness, the minute elements.
into which the body dissolves become, in fact, more akin in their
tenuity to its ethereal nature. Hence it is not surprising that
the incorporeal soul should, more easily than before, rule the
separated atoms ofthe decompounded body. p. 152, ^.
He discusses afterwards the nature of the animating principle
of the irrational animals : — Some say, that it perishes with their
material frame; some, that it survives it. p. 154- He makes a
distinction between rational and irrational life : — The latter is
distributable into that which partakes of sensation, as animals*
and not that which wants it, as plants. There can be no sensa
tion but in a body composed of the four elements : there is no
Vol. IV. G g
LITERARY
HISTORVOF rXGLAND,
450 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK light where tliere is no fire ; no hearing where there is no air ; and
VI, no taste or smell where there is no water. He considers angels to
have a rational nature, but not to have these kinds of sensitivity ;
they do not receive the notice of sensible things by phantasies of
bodies, but perceive every corporeal creature spiritually, in their
spiritual causes, as we shall hereafter see them when we are
transmuted' into an equality with their nature. Hence, angels
have no corporeal senses, because they are above them ; and
being by this circumstance void of all irrational or sensitive life,
and destitute of our five senses, they are not burthened with com
pounded or corruptible bodies, p. 155.
But man has both the rational life, like angels, and the irra
tional life, like animals ; both the sensitive and the germinal life.
Look diligently at the powers of the human soul, which, while it
is of one and the same subsistence and energy and operation in all
bodies simultaneously, both generally and specially in each, can
also perform all the \'ital motions and administration in the fi-ame,
whether within or without. Indeed, it reasons and understands,
like the angelical life, beyond its corporeal senses ; yet in these
exerts a power of sensation like the irrational animals, tho with-.
out deserting its rationality ; so it nourishes and increases its body,
bke that life which has no sensitivity, and wliich pervades plants
and woods. Thus, intire in itself, and in every part, it keeps all
its senses. So its germinal vitality is visible in its bones, nails
and hair, which not being pervious to air, partake no sensibility.
In its five-fold instrument of the senses, it communicates with
that irrational life which subsists peculiar to animals destitute of
reason. But in all these things, tho it be often moved by itself
irrationally, nature does not suffer it to be deficient in its reason.
All which it can do, beside these aforesaid powers of vivifying
and nourishing, and of feeling, by the senses, whether it acts or
suffers, it is acknowleged to do and suffer by right reason beyond
its body. These things being fore-known, on the divisions and
differences of the most general life, let us, he says, return to a
solution of our questions, as far as it is given to us to understand
them. p. 155.
He dislikes the opinion, that the soul of irrational animals pe-^
rishes with the body, p. 157. Having made every species of life
a part of general life, he infers that no species of it dies with its
material body. In every creature there must be substance, power,
and operation. If bodies on their death only dissolve into their
elements, which ai-e not annihilated, how can their souls, of what-
HISTORY THE .
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES, 151
ever sort they are, being so much better than the body, entirely CHA P,
perish? It is not reasonable that what is worst should be pre- XII.
served, and that what is better should perish. Every student of
wisdom knows that all body is compounded, and every soul simple qi'
and single. But the faculties of animals, in their senses, are in scholas-
some even superior to men. What man sees so acutely as the '"'"^ ¦"'"¦
eagle, or smells like the dog, or remembers injuries so long as the ^ '_.
camel ? He says he cannot conceive how these powers should be
in the animal, if they be merely composed of earthly particles.
He pursues this subject to great length, and reasons on it with
much ingenuity.
He begins his fourth book with describing the Deity as a
super-essential nature, which is the creating cause of all things,
both existing and not existing : created by none ; the one be
ginning, the one origin, and the sole universal fountain of all
things ; flowing from no one, while all things issue from him : a
co-essential Trinity in three subsistences, without beginning ; the
commencement and the end of every thing ; the one goodness
and the one God. p. loo.
His fourth book he thus delineates': ' Beginning from the works
of the sixth prophetical contemplation ofthe condition of the uni.
verse, it considers the return of all things into that nature which
neither creates nor is created.'
' The difficulty of this subject, the occurrence and collision of
various senses, throws so much terror upon me, that in compari
son with this, the three preceding books are like a smooth sea,
navigable over placid waves, without any fear of a shipwreck. But
this is full of rocks, tortuosities, sands and perils, but with the
divine aid I hope we shall reach our port in safety.' p. 161.
The human soul is not two souls, but ojie soul. It is one whole.
It is a whole in life, in reason, in sense, and memory. As a^vhole,
it vivifies and nourishes the body ; as a whole, perceives, discri
minates, combines andjudges. As a whole, it ascends above crea
tures and itself ; and is comprehended in the number of the crea
tures revolving around its Creator, by an intelligible and eternal
movement, while it is purged of all vices. Thus, while it is carried
round the Divine Essence, it is mind, feeling, and intellect ; while
it considers the nature and causes of created things, it is reason ;
while it receives by its senses the corporeal species of sensible
things, it is sensitivity; while it actuates in the body its hidden
movements, according to the similitude of irrational animal souls,
nourishing and increasing them, it is accustomed to be peculiarly
G c 2
452 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK called life. But in all these things, it is still one whole: as a
VI. whole, it was formed in the genus of animals from the earth, and
as a whole it was made in the image of God. Thus the same man
is an animal and not an animal — and is spiritual and is not spiri-
EKGLAXD. tual. But the wise have agreed, that all creatures meet in man;
* -^^ ' for he understands and reasons like an angel. He feels and governs
his body like an animal. All creatures are corporeal, vital, sen
sitive, rational, or intellectual : but man is all these. jIs far as he
is a body with a life that rules it, senses, and a memory treating of
the fancies of sensible things, he has a commonalty of being with
animals ; but as far as he is a partaker of the divine and celestial
essence, he is not an animal ; but by reason and intellect, and the
memory of eternal things, he participates the celestial essence.
In that, he is void of all animality. In this portion of his nature
he is, indeed, the image ofhis Divine ^Nlaker. p. 167.
All which is naturally created in man necessarily remains eter
nally entire and uncorrupt ; but as there is naturally in man an
hatred of death, so he ought as naturally to hate the cause of death,
which is sin. It is common to all animals to dread and to avoid
both death and its causes. Rational and intellectual nature, tho
it canpot fail, may be deceived, especially while it has not yet
received the perfection of its formation, which it would have de
rived from the merit of its obedience, by being transformed into
theosin or deification. We should judge of man, not from his
present deteriorated nature, but according to that divine image
which he possessed before he erred. Now deceived and lapsed,
the soul is blinded by the darkness of its depraved will, and con
signs both itself and its Creator to oblivion. This is its most
miserable death ; the most profound submersion into the clouds
of ignorance, and the farthest distance from itself and its Creator.
p. 170.
Man is not to be praised so far as he is an animal, but, from
being an image of his Maker. So he is not to be reviled for being
an animal, but, because he chooses to deform that sacred image
which he cannot destroy.
The movements of irrational animals are not base in them, be
cause they are natural, and without them they could not be ani
mals. But if any man voluntarily will put on liis honorable form
the effigy of a beast, he is deservedly reprehended, because he pre
cipitates himself from what is better to what is much worse, p. 1 70.
There is in man an implanted faculty of having an angelic and an
heavenly body, wliich, after the resurrection, will appear more
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 453
clearly both in bad and good ; for it will be common to all human CII A P.
nature to rise again in eternal, incorruptible, and spiritual bodies. XII.
Think not of the corporeal mass in man ; consider rather his na-
tive powers ; for even in his body, you see that its smallest part .nc^J,'!''^^
is the pupil ofhis eye, and yet it possesses the largest faculty of scuolas-
liis sense. It is in his divine image^and simihtude that man's true tic phi-
greatness appears ; as that exceeds the excellencies of every es- ^^°^ophy^
sence, so he towers above all in the dignity and grace of creation.
p. 172. ^ .
He closes his fourth book thus : — ' W^e purpose now to treat of
the return of all natures into their primordial causes, and into that
nature which neither creates nor is created ; this is, the Deity.
The divine nature is not supposed to be created, because it is the
primitive cause of all things ; before whom there was no principle
from which he could be created. But after the return ofthe esta
blished universe, of visible and invisible things into their primordial
causes, which are contained in the divine nature, no ulterior na
ture will be created from it, or will be multiplied into sensible and
intelligible species, for they will become one in his nature, as they
are now one in causes ; and therefore it is supposed that he will
create no more ; for what will he create, when his nature alone
willbe all in all?' p. 223.
His fifth book begins with a comment on the divine words, —
' Lest he eat ofthe tree of life, and live for ever.' To- live for ever
is to return no more to the want of temporal things, which will
perish with the world, but to pass wholly into the Lord, and to
become one in him. p. 225. All human nature will be refunded
into intellect alone, so that nothing will remain in it but that
intellect only by which it may contemplate its Creator. The end
of the present life is the beginning of ihe future, and the death
of the flesh is the auspices of the restitution of nature, and its
return into its ancient conservation, p. 231.
The first reversion of human nature is its solution into its com
ponent elementary particles. The second will be completed in its
resurrection, when every one will receive his own body from the
community of the four elements. The third, when the body will
be cleansed into spirit. The fourth, when the spirit and the whole
nature of man will revert into its primordial causes, which are
always and incommutably in God. The fifth, when that nature
will be moved, with its causes, into God ; as air is moved into
light. For he will be all in all, when nothing will exist but him
alone. G G 3
ENGLAND.
454 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK This mutation of human nature into God is not to be consi-
VI. dered as a destruction of ils subsistence, but a wonderful and
ineffable reversion into its pristine state. For, as all which purely
LITERARY „„jigrstand is made one with that which is understood, what
HISTORYOF """^"'-" , . , , ^ , 1. !•
wonder is it if our nature, when m those who are found worthy ot
it, will contemplate the Deity face to face, as far as it is given to
it, on its ascent into the regions of such a vision, so to con
template him ; it should then become one with him and in him.
p. 23;!.
If we close this Synopsis with the following apostrophe of Eri
gena, and his conclusion, we shall have given the reader a suffi
cient idea of the contents of this Work.
After mentioning that the whole text of divine scripture should
be consulted, and one part compared with another, because there
are some figures and involutions that are intended to excite the
exertion of our intellect, he adds, " But the reward of those who
shall labor in the sacred scripture, will be a pure and perfect
intelligence. O Lord Jesus ! I ask no other reward, no other
beatitude, no other joy from Thee, but that I may understand
purely, without any error of a fallacious theory. Thy words, which
have been inspired by Thy Holy Spirit. This is the sum of my
happiness, and the end of my perfect contemplation. For the
rational and purest soul will find nothing beyond it, because
nothing is superior to it ; for as we can seek nothing elsewhere
more aptly than in Thy ivords, so we shall find nothing elsewhere
so fitting as in them. "There Thou dwellest, and Thou introducest
thither those who seek and love Thee. There Thou preparest
the spiritual food of true knowlege for Thine elect ; and there,
passing thro them. Thou ministerest unto them. And what is,
O Lord ! this thy passing thro, but the ascent thro the infinite
degrees of the contemplation of Thee. Thou passest onwards
into the intellects of those who seek and find Thee. Thou wilt
be found in thy theophanies, thy divine appearances, in which,
as in some mirrors. Thou wilt meet the minds of those who un
derstand Thee. Thou wilt not be found always in thine essen
tiality, because that surpasses and exceeds every intellect willing
and ascending to comprehend Thee. Therefore Thou ministerest
to them thy presence by an ineffable communication of thine
appearance, as Thou passest over them, by the incomprehensible
loftiness and infinitude of thine essence." p. 306.
He thus terminates his work with a kind of summary of its
contents, : —
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES,
4.35
Thus we have distinguished the quadriform division of universal
nature, which is understood in God and in creation. The first and
the last form was on the Deity alone ; not that his nature, which
is pre-eminently single and uncompounded, is divisible, but be
cause it is susceptible of a double mode of contemplation. While
I contemplate Him as the beginning and cause of all things, the
true reason occurs to me, which confidently suggests that the
divine essence or subsistence, goodness, power, wisdom, and its
other attributes, are created by no one, for there is no superior to
tbe divine nature. All things which are, or which now are not,
were created from it, and by it, and in it, and to it. While I view
him as the end and untransgressible term of all things ; whom all
desire, and in whom they place the limit of their natural move
ment, I find him to be neither created nor creating. That nature
which is from itself, cannot be created, nor does it create ; for as
all things which shall proceed from it by an intelligible or sensible
generation will, by an ineffable and wonderful regeneration, return
to it, and all things will be at rest within it, what shall he create
when He himself will be all in all, and will appear in nothing but
in Himself? All things are so ordered by Divine Providence,
that no evil is found substantially in the nature of things, nor any
thing which wiU disturb the great republic and civil disposition
of all.
Having thus considered the fourfold view of universal nature —
two in the divine nature, as to their origin and end ; and two in
framed nature, as to their causes and effects ; we added some
theories on the return of.effects into their causes, or the relations
in which they subsist. There were three modes of this : — The
first was generally in the transmutation of all the sensible crea
tion. There is no body but what will return into its occult causes.
The second mode will obtain in the general return of all human
nature, saved in Christ, into its primitive condition — into a para
dise — into the dignity of the Divine Image.
The third mode will be experienced by those who will not only
ascend into the sublimity of nature, substituted in them, but by the
abundance of the Divine grace, which shall be delivered by Christ,
and in Him to His elect, will, above all the laws and terms of na
ture, superessentially pass into God himself, and be one in him
and with him. There are three degrees of this ascent : — The first
is, the transition of the mind into the knowlege of all things which
are after God. The second, of that knowlege into wisdom, or the
intimate contemplation of truth, as far as it will be permitted to
G G 4
CHAP. XII.
HISTORY
OF THE
SCHOLASTIC PHI
LOSOPHY.
4.50 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK a creature. The tliird and last is the supernatural setting ofthe
VI. most purified souls in God himself — the most secret mysteries wiH
then be opened to the blessed and the illuminated intellects in an
LITERARY- . „ ,
HISTORYOF ineffable manner, pp.311, 312.
ENGLAND.
It has been remarked, that no heresies appeared
in the tenth century. It is an observation ominous
of evil to mankind. It announces a deathlike torpor
of mind, fatal to human progress ;'^ for, while many
minds think, some will diverge into eccentricities
which will benefit the rest of the world, if right, or
be ridiculed and exploded, if wrong. In no age was
knowlege, religion, or morals, at a lower ebb, than
in the tenth. In no age can the mind be impartially
exercised without some diversity from existing opi
nions; but discerning men will always look upon
those eccentricities as transitory projectiles, that, if
not kept up by the force of controversy, always tend
to fall out of sight and notice. The surest way to
defeat these ill efiects is, to leave them unnoticed 5
and for wiser men to publish better systems, and by
the presentation of more useful truths, to divest error
silently of its casual popularity.
But Joannes Erigena rather left an example than
made an impression. He was wondered at — read by
a few — but imitated by none. His work was a little
island, dimly floating in a darkened hemisphere, and
was generally neglected. It was the Arabian mind
that caught the same spirit from its Aristotelian stu-
' Dupiii must have felt this; for in accounting for there being no
heresy, after remarking that the sober people contented themselves with
implicit faith, he adds — ' and tbe profligate abandoned themselves to
gross sensualities, satisfying their brutal appetites, rather than to the vices
of tbe mind, to wbich only ingenious persons are liable,' Eccl, Hist
Cent. 10, c. 6.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 457
dies, and gradually infused it into those nations chap.
which had checked or defied the progress of their ^^^-
arms; but whose inquisitive scholars became eager history
to transplant into their own countries the attractive
dialectics of the Mohamedan philosophers.
From the time that the sciences were cultivated by
the Arabs in Spain, some of their illuminating rays imported
began to penetrate the darkness of Europe. It has f'"'" Spain,
been already shewn,* that the Spanish Christians, in
the ninth century, studied at the Arab seminaries;
and that in the next, French ecclesiastics went thither
in search of knowlege, as Gerbert, who became Pope
in 1000. In the works of the disciples of his scholar
Fulbert, we may trace marks of this intercourse, in
some of the illustrations of their reasoning;^ and it
is probable, that the conversation and attainments of
the minds acquainted with Arab studies, excited iri
many others unusual curiosity and the spirit of dis
quisition. We have mentioned before, that Lanfranc
began the study of dialectics at Bee; the taste ac
companied him to England ; and Anselm, his pupil,
and successor in his archiepiscopal see, by his meta
physical investigations extended it to new subjects,
and increased its popularity. Anselm was the first
writer who made a complete general system of theo
logy, tho what he did was, in a short time, surpassed
by the treatise of Hildebert, the archbishop of Tours^
° See before, p. 372.
" As Adalman, in his Treatise against Berengarius, a model of benign
and truly Christian controversy. Bib. Mag. vol. 3. p. 167-171. It begins
very kindly : ' I bave called you my collectaneum, on account of that
dulcissimum contubernium, which I had with you when a youth in the
academy at Chartreux, under our venerable Socrates (Fulbert.) I con
jure you by those private evening conversations wbich he often bad with
' us in the garden near the chapel, when be besought us with tears to keep
on in the right way,' &c. .
458 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK But the person who seems to be best entitled to
^^' the name of the immediate father of the scholastic
LiTEaARY philosophy, was Roscelin of Bretagne. — A prelate,
ENGLAND, alfflost hls contemporary, says, " Bretagne is full of
' "''; ' clerks, who have acute minds, and apply them to the
and Abe- ^rts ; but as to Other concerns, it is fertile only of
^''^- blockheads." One of these clerks was Roscelin, who,
the same author says, " first in our times established
the sententiam vocum."" He was the earliest pre
ceptor of Abelard, also a Breton. Abelard was born
at his father's castle, about eight miles from Nantz.
His parent, tho a knight, had imbibed so great a love
for letters, that he determined to have his son well
instructed in them before he learnt the use of arms,
altho his eldest child. Abelard, from the instructions
of Roscelin, and from his improvement afterwards in
the university of Paris, became so attached to study,
that he says of himself, he left the pomp of military
glory, with the prerogatives of primogeniture, to his
younger brother ; and, preferring the dialectical art,
he resolved to distinguish himself in it." Thus what
little credit may be attached to the origin of the
scholastic philosophy, seems to belong to England,
to the Anglo-Normans, and to Bretagne,
Abelard's Abelard rambled over various provinces, disputing
wherever he heard that the study of this art flou
rished. He came at last to Paris, about i loo, where
this new topic then chiefly prevailed. William de
Champeaux was the famous teacher there." Abelard
'" Otto Frisingius de Gest. Fred, c. 47. p. 433.
" These and the following particulars are taken from Abelard's account
of himself, printed at the head of his works. It is an interesting piece of
biography; and if Rousseau had read it, might have convinced him that
bis idea of writing his ' Confessions' was not so original as he thought.
" It was to him that Hildebert, bishop of Tours, addressed his first
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 469
became his pupil; and interested his master, tho he CHAP,
often ventured to argue with him, and sometimes to ^^
confute him. Abelard soon became ambitious of history
being a preceptor himself. This intention roused the "cholIs-
jealousy and attacks of De Champeaux. But some ^ic phi-
.,/.,, ^ . , , losophy,
great patrons tavoring the young aspirant, he ob- ' — . —
tained leave to open a school, which he soon trans
ferred to Paris ; his fame and scholars multiplying
as those of his master decreased.
Illness, brought on by excess of study, compelled
him to revisit his native air. His master in the mean
time had been made a bishop, and held his schools
in a monastery. Abelard went to study rhetoric under
him. His progress and controversies, and tuition,
again excited his master's displeasure; and Abelard,
on his father's turning monk, being recalled by his
mother, travelled afterwards to Laon, to hear Anselm,
another applauded teacher.'^ He describes him, as
he might perhaps have been described himself, to
have had a great flow of words, with small sense;
luxuriant foliage, with but scanty fruit. But here the
restless avarice of fame pursued him. He thought he
could lecture on the Scriptures better than Anselm,
tho he says he had known nothing of them before.
He attempted it, and was preferred. His new master's
persecution drove him again to Paris, and he re
mained quietly there for some years, reading glosses
on Ezekiel. He states himself to have got money
letter, congratulating him on his conversion from the secular science of
the age to true philosophy, or religion. Ep. 1. So that Champeaux
started like Abelard, a disputatious layman at first. He was named the
Venerable Doctor.
"This Anselm died 1117; he was the author of a Gloss on tbe Old and
New Testament, which has been praised and printed. There was another
Anselm at the same time, an episcopus Lucensis, whose work in defence
of Gregory VII. against bis Antipope, is in the Bib, Mag. vol, 15. p. 724.
literary hist RYOE
ENGLAND.
460 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK here, as well as reputation, but to have become
VI- immoral." His intercourse with Heloise, and its un
fortunate termination, occurred at this period. Re
covering from its disasters, and attacked for some
alleged opinions on the Trinity, on which he after
wards expressed his steady belief,^' he was sent to a
cloister, to be confined; and afterwards obtaining
leave to go into a solitude, he went into a wilder
ness. Scholars eagerly followed him from cities and
castles, living with him there on bread and herbs,
lying on straw, building little huts to reside in, more
resembling hermits than students, and making clods
of earth their tables.'" They supphed him with neces
saries, they enlarged his little oratory, till at length
they raised the monastery, which he called the Para
clete. His fame now spread over the whole world.
He was attacked by the celebrated saint Bernard,"^
on many points. He answered him in several letters.'*
He continued an affectionate and intellectual corre
spondence with Heloise, become an abbess, encou-
'* He owns tbe corrupting effects of prosperity on his mind — mundana
tranquillitas vigorem enervat animi et per carnales illecebras facile re-
Jolvit. He adds, ' while I thought I was the only philosopberin the world
— frsna libidini ca;pi laxare, qui antea vixeram conlinentissime.' c. 5- p. 9*
. '* See his letter to Heloise, p. ,308, and his own solemn confession and
denial of the allegations charged against him, p. 330.
"• Another proof of the avidity with which mankind seek intellectual
improvement wherever it is to be had,
" Mr, Berrington's account and panegyric of St. Bernard, willbe read
with pleasure, 278-284. But his early life seems to have been not so
active as his panegyrist describes ; for his contemporary antagonist, Be-
rengarius,says to bim — ' Men are surprised to find in you, who are igno
rant ofthe liberal arts, such a flow of eloquence. — We have heard, that,
from almost the first rudiments of your youth, you made mimic songs,
and popular melodies : Nor do we speak from uncertain opinion. Did
you not seek to conquer your brothers, in contests of rime, and the inge
nuity of acute invention ?' He admits, however, that Bernard's fame had
spread his writings over the world — circumquoque fama divulgat. He
even adds, caput tuura nubes tangebat, Ep. Abel. p. 302.
'^ Their controversial epistles are printed in Abelard's works.
LOSOPHY,
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 401
raging her good resolutions, and exhorting her to CHAP.
piety. His genius was so admired, his eloquence ^^
was so impressive, and his subtlety so attracting, that history
we find not only England and Normandy sent him °™.
scholars, but even Rome; and also Flanders, Anjou, "c phi
Poitou, Gascony, Spain, Germany and Sweden;" '"°"'""'
so that he was really an intellectual Goliah of his
day, as his sainted, but vehement antagonist, aspiring
to be a victorious David, denominates him.'"
Abelard lived at a period when a part of the Eu
ropean mind turning itself to study, and beginning
to know, began also, from its very ignorance, to
doubt, to cavil, and to criticise. The activity of the
intellect commences with the commencement of our
knowlege, but soon outstrips it. We make objections
and raise questions before we have obtained infor
mation enough to answer them. We address these
to others as ignorant as ourselves. Their minds be
come as sceptical, and yet remain as superficial as
our own; and thus an age of doubt, debate, attack
and disbelief, begins on every subject to which the
attention is directed. This had occurred in Arabia,
and in Arabian Spain, but took the direction of the
Aristotelian topics. It arose also in Europe, and in
England, as the eleventh century closed ; and as re-.
ligion was then the most interesting subject of the
'" So says his friend fulco, prior; and that no distance, no mountains,
no dangers could deter scholars from flocking to him, and that crowds of
English youths crossed the sea to him. Ep, Ab. 2l8.
*| Procedit Golias procero corpore, &c. with Arnold of Brescia for his
squire. — Bernard goes on to say, that all eyes were turned upon him, to.
go out to meet bim : Abnui tum quia puer sum; et ille vir bellator ab
adolescentia, Ep. p. 275. This letter to the Pope closes with that vin
dictive feeling which has disgraced so many disputants of the Romish
church. He calls his opponents vulpes, and declares they should be ex
terminated with a strong hand. He even tells the Pope, that God made
bim great from a small condition, ut evellas et destruas. p. 274. — But
the age was an age of violence.
HISTORYOFENGLAND
462 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK intellectual thought, this newly created spirit fastened
_^ itself suddenly and tenaciously upon the Christian
LITERARY theology. The truths of the sacred scriptures were
then eagerly attacked with all the pugnacity of the
awakening, agile and controversial mind ; of mind
happy in its activity, and therefore loving and court
ing the animating battle. These disputations soon
became popular, because the exercise was enjoyment,
the conflict a distinction, the defeat no disgrace, and
conquest no security. While logic was made the wea
pon, the victory, tho a thousand times won, might
be as often re-disputed. Words give a supply of wea
pons that will never be exhausted while the tongue
can utter or the pen transcribe; and therefore, as
soon as those investigations began, which laid the
foundation of the scholastic philosophy; both reli
gion and infidelity became converted into Aristote
lian theme books; and belief became unpopular, and,
from this direction of the studious mind, almost im
possible, unless it was associated with all the forms
of the peripatetic logic, and by them could be de
fended, as by them it was assaulted.
It was this state of things that called Abelard into
the controversial field. He says, that his scholars
remarked to him, that their Christian faith had be
come " involved in difficult questions, and seemed
to stand asunder from human reason, and therefore
should be upheld by more strong garrisons of the
reason, especially against the impugnations of those
who professed themselves to be philosophers." They
added, that " as the inquisitions of these persons
assumed a more subtle appearance, it became so
much the more difficult to solve them, and more easy
to disturb the simplicity of religious faith." Hence,
DURING THE MIDDLE AGIilS. 463
thinking Abelard sufficient to counteract these de- CHAP.
baters, they entreated him to undertake the task. ^^
Thus urged, he declares that it was in acquiescence history
with their wishes, that he sat down to compose his
" Introduction to Theology."^'
He begins this with stating, that he considers the
sum of human salvation to consist in faith, love, and
the sacrament. Faith, which comprehends hope, is
the persuasion of things not apparent, that is, not
subjected to the bodily sense; it is the belief of things
good and evil — the past, the present, and the future.
Love is an honorable affection, when directed to the
end we ought to pursue, but otherwise, declines to
the unbecoming and the disgraceful. Its noblest ob
ject is bur great end ; the supreme and superior cause.
To Him our attention should be directed ; in Him we
should place our final aim. Nothing should be loved,
nothing even be done, but on his account; that we
may rest the end of all things in Him. A sacrament
is the visible sign of His invisible grace.^'
It is the merit of faith to believe what is not seen ;
we believe it in order to know; we do not know for
the purpose of believing. What is faith, but to credit
what we do not see ? Truth will be to see what we
have accredited. The truth exists, tho it be not visible
to us now. It is not at present seen; it must there
fore, as yet, be only believed : the sensible certainty
will be attained hereafter. So, what is argued is not
seen ; reasoning is not sight. An argument cannot be
visible. The inference is a subject of belief, not an
object of sense.'"
There are many things pertaining to God, which it
« Abel, Opera, p, 974. '' lb. 977-9- " lb. 981,
literary
historyof ENGLAND,
464 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK does not concern us either to believe or to disbelieve,
^^- and therefore, on all such we may do either ; as, whe
ther he will allow it to rain to-morrow, or not ; or,
whether he will extend mercy to this bad man, or not.
But faith, in some points, is necessary and essential.
The Christian faith maintains, that there is one
Deity alone, and not more; one Lord of all; one
Creator ; one principle ; one light ; one good ; one
immense, one omnipotent, and one eternal Being; one
substance or essence, entirely immutable and simple;
not composed of parts ; and which can be only what
He is. In this Godhead, this single, this individual
and pure subsistence, are three Personalities, in all
things coequal and coeternal, and yet distinct ; not,
however, distinct in number of things, but in plu
rality of properties. Neither is the other ; theHsame
God is each ; one in nature, one in number, and one
in essence ; yet so personally disting-uished in pro
perties, that each is what He is, and nothing else,'*
This profound subject — necessarily most profound
from its concerning the greatest Being that exists — the
boundless Sovereign of an unbounded universe, after
being thus introduced, occupies the three books ofhis
Introduction to Theology, and the last disserts more
particularly on the power, the wisdom, and goodness
of the Divine Nature, which in the preceding part he
has attempted to elucidate, on the points that were
agitated by his more inquisitive contemporaries.
" Abel. Opera, 982, 983. M. Mah^,in his essay on the antiquities of
Morbihan, notices Abelard and the abbey of St. Gildas, of which he be
came abbot. His reforms so displeased his monks, that bis life was often
in danger. He was once obliged to escape their attack by the pipe of a
sewer. One is still exhibited as the actual canal in wbich he took refuge.
His public eflSgy, loaded with Gothic ornaments, had been preserved till
the revolution, when some republican soldiers, iu want of firewood, burnt
it to warm themselves.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 465
St. Bernard was at this period cultivating a mo- CHAP.
nastic life in the retirement which he had founded at ^^^•
Clairvaux. Of his sincere piety, his general ability, history
and ofhis earnest devotion, there can be no question. l^J^xls-
That cities were to him like a prison, and a solitude tic phi-
his paradise, he felt, and he declared.'' His virtues ^^^^
procured him a reputation, and his character gave him st. Barnard.
an influence, which made him one of the intellectual
sovereigns of his day. Hence, tho withdrawn from
the world into his cell, he was still solicited to inter
fere in its concerns, and he became active in several
negotiations and disputes, and was tremulously seur
sible to all its religious agitations. The fame of
Abelard attracted his notice, and he examined his
opinions with a critical minuteness which, perhaps,
might have been better spared ; and he addressed an
accusing letter against him to the bishops aixd cardi
nals,'^ and afterwards to pope Innocent,''^ complain
ing of some parts ofhis book on Theology, and ofhis
other, intitled Sententiarum. The pope issued his re
scripts against him, and enjoined him to perpetual si
lence.'^ One ofhis scholars, Berengarius, wrote in his
justification."' Abelard suffered much from the oppo
sition raised against him; and some kind religioiis
friends interfered to procure a general reconciliation
ofthe contending parties. Peter, the abbot of Clugny,
solicited the pope in his behalf. He states in his me
diating letter, that Abelard had become reconciled
with Bernard; that he had dismissed his schools, and
retired from the contentious tumult of his studies,
and had sought to fix his final residence at Clugny.
" This," says the abbot, " we have granted, as it suited
== Abel, Op. p. 271.
» Ib. 302-319, 320,
H H
S5
27
I.
s,
Ib.
IV
Bernard, 272.
Ep. p,
"' Ib.
¦ ,3^3
299-
302.
HISTORYOF ENGLAND,
Abelard's
460 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK his age, his weakness, and his religious feelings ; and
^^- .'we implore you to let the last days of his life and old
LITERARY agB, whlch cauHot HOW te mauy, bc cudedthere. Let
no one now expel him from the roof, to which, like the
swallow, he has flown ; nor from the nest, in which,
latteTdays- like the dove, he delights to find himself; but as you
cherish every good man, and once loved him, so now
protect him with the shield of your apostolical de
fence."^" The same worthy abbot sometime after
wards sent a kind and consoling letter to Heloise, de
scribing Abelard's latter days, his meekness, humility,
abstinence, and mild virtues ; he was always reading,
often praying, and usually silent. The abbot expresses
his surprise that a man so famous should have become
so humble and resigned. His mind, his tongue, his
occupations, were always divine, philosophical and
learned. He meditated, he taught, and he confessed.
No moment passed in which he was not at his devo
tions, or reading, or writing, or dictating. His strength
¦declined gradually away^, and he died with every de
vout, lowly, and sanctified feeling.*' Peter completed
his friendship for Abelardbyan affectionate epitaph.**
Abelard wrote a work against the irreligious opi
nions of his day, which he enumerates under the de-
^ Abel. Op. 336. =¦ lb. 337-342.
'' It wil) shew how highly he was esteemed in his day : —
' The Socrates of the Gauls; the greatest Plato ofthe west;
Our Aristotle; to all the logicians that have existed,
Either equal or superior. "Tbe acknowleged prince
Of worldly studies; various in genius, subtile and acute ;
Conquering all things by the force of his reason, and in the art of
speaking;
Abelard was ; but he then became the victor above all,
When, becoming monk, and assuming the habit of Clugny,
He passed over to the true philosophy of Christ,
And completing well the last stages of a long life.
Gave the hope that he would be numbered with the philosophic good.'
Ab. Op, 342,
Losopiiy.
DHRING THE MIDDLE AGES. 467
nomination of heresies;** and being, tho liot hcani- chap.
nally the first, yet in popularity the first founder of ^"-
the new scholastic philosophy, which had. not then history
lost the old name of dialectics, he defended it against schol!s-
those who discountenanced it. These branded its tic phi-
dogmas as sophisms, and thought them rather de
ceptions than reasons. His resentment at the attack
denied their knowlege of what they censured, and
called them foxes, who said the cherries were of a
bad taste, because, when they leapt up to reach them,
they only fell down disappointed, from what hung
too high. He admitted, however, that the appetite
for quarrelling and the puerile ostentation of tricking
an adversary were to be avqided. He allowed .that
there were many sophistical arguments, many false
reasonings and false conclusions, very, closely imi
tating what was true, that would delude, not only the
dull, but even the ingenious, if they were not .dili
gently attentive. But, drawing a distinction between
the dialectical and the sophis.tical art, he contended,
from his owa admission, that in order to make this
discrimination, men must qualify themselves to dis
tinguish the false and the misleading from the true
and the apt; and, thereforCj must study the logical
discipline.** *> It is intitled ' Adversus Hereses.' Op. p. 452-488.
** Ab. Op. 238-242. As Abelard was arraigned by St, Bernard, for
many erroneous opinions, it is just to him lo hear his own answer to the
accusation : — ' I may have written some things by mistake, which I ought
not, but I never did so with any evil intention, or from presumption,
I have spoken many things in many schools, but always openly, I ex
pressed what seemed to me to be salubrious to religion and morals, and
whatever I wrote I exposed willingly to all, that they might be my judges,
not my disciples ; and I am at all times desirous to correct or expunge
any mischievous expressions,' In contradiction to the charges against
him, he denies solemnly his imputed disbelief of the Divine Trinity, ' My
opinion is, that both the Son and the Holy Spirit are from the Father,
and of the same subsistence, will and power. Their subsistence or
H II 2
468
HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
LITERARY
HISTORYOF ENGLAND,
BOOK ' It is obvious, from Abelard's own account of his
_^ "life, that an ardent vanity, and an ungovernable viva
city of mind, were his prevailing qualities. Those
awful topics connected with the divine nature, which
the Greeks were as fond of agitating as if they had
-concerned a mineral or a bird, which they could ex-
i.mine as they pleased, and of which they had full
and visible knowlege, he was eager to discuss, and
proud to revive. He said he was anxious to give a
reason for all things, even of those which are above
reason, and to believe nothing which his reason could
not touch. ** This sounds plausibly, and would be
just, if our knowlege of things were as universal and
as boundless as nature ; but it involves the manifest
¦absurdity, of making our ignorance the judge and the
-criterion of truth. To disbelieve what we do not know,
can be the maxim only of the most rustic infatuation.
At first the babe knows nothing, and therefore be
lieves nothing; but this defect is caused by his baby-
essence is entirely the same, and there cannot be a diversity of will or
inequahty of power. The Son became incarnate to deliver us from the
yoke of sin and Satan, and bj his death has opened to us the gates of
everlasting life.' He proceeds to assert his eternal generation, and the
procession of the Holy Spirit, as the third Person in the Trinity from
'both the preceding. personalities. On two other contested points headdis
— -' The Divine Grace is so necessary to us, that without it neither the
faculties of nature, nor freedom of our will, can be sufficient for salvation;
for tbat grace, by its previous operation, excites us to will, accompanies
us to give the ability to perform, and associates itself with us to enable
¦us to persevere.
' I believe that God does those things only which it is proper that he
should do, and that he might do many things which he will never do.
' Bad actions done thro ignorance are faults ; but especially if thro
our negbgence we be ignorant of what we ought to know.
' The Deity frequently hinders evil. He frequently defeats the effects
of those intending it, so that what they would they cannot do; and often
changes their will, that they should be diverted from what tbey meditate.
' From Adam vye have contracted fault as well as punishment; because
.his sin is the origin and cause of all ours.' — See his Apologue, or Con-
fessio, 330-3.
^ Ab, Op. 277.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES, 46,0
hood, and is the mark of it. As he grows up, sonie CHAP:
knowlege gradually comes in, but only of a very small ^^
portion of existing facts and truths, and still less of history
what have passed. The manly maturity of the body shoIas-
is mistaken for the full possession of knowlege, rea- ^ic phi-
d. , ,^ , , LOSOPIIY,
judgment; whereas the individual is but , —
very litde more advanced in his information, tho com
pleted in his external form. His ignorance is j-et in.
the proportion of one truth to a thousand which sur
round him in nature; and notwithstanding this visible
certainty, he assumes himself to be competent to de^
cide on all things that concern the Deify, and his
revelations and nature, and to deny their existence,
justice and utility, as if he possessed all that was
knowable, and had examined all that was true. Hav
ing attained myriads of facts on all the sciences, which
Abelard was neither acquainted with nor would have
thought within human acquisition, we feel strongly
the absurdity of his making his rusblight informa
tion the rule and limit of his belief. But the lesson
is not less applicable to ourselves. The existing un
known must never be forgotten, or disbelieved, for
every day is proving to us its reality, and educing
from it new truths that were never before suspected
to have a being. His presumption brought again into.
fashion those pernicious exercises of the mindj which
only end in new collocations of words, new absur-?
dities, and new resentments. His rashness made
others vindictive. He provoked persecutions, dis-.
Creditable to those who used them, and always inef
fective to cure the evil they seek to remedy,'" but of
^ I remember to have heard Mr. Fox say in the House of Commons,
I thought with great truth—' I declare, I do not know how to fight opi
nion; but this I am sure of, that neither swords nor bayonets, racks nos
II H 3
470 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK which his own intemperance must be fairly considered
vt- as one of the exciting causes. We now find that
literary those dangerous subjects on which Abelard so eagerly
HISTORYOF gjjjoioyed himsclf, have no connexion with the im-
ENGLAND. i: J
"¦ — ¦' — ' provement of knowlege or the progress of society.
Science and literature have at last agreed to leave
them to the silent and reverent meditation ofthe pious
hour, avoiding discussions, with which the public
ought never to be disturbed ; for what controversy
has ever occurred, which has not become a battle, in
which the benign spirit of Christianity has been soon
abandoned ! But the world loved fighting, both with
the sword and the pen, in the days of Abelard ; and
therefore the mighty talents of himself and his brother
schoolmen were as uselessly, but less harmlessly em
ployed, than if they had " wasted their sweetness on
the desert air." *'^ His mind, however, improved with
sobering years ; his final opinions are expressed with
a modesty, a temperance, and an anxious assertion
of his sincerity and good intention, which every can
did reader will peruse with sympathy and respect.
Peter The defenders of the Catholic faith, after a while
Sentences* decrying atid attacking the disquisitive schoolmen in
England, as well as on the Continent, adopted at
dungeons, can extinguish or prevent it.' — History sufficiently shews, that
erroneous opinions, if left to themselves, will, like some disorders, run a
little round, and then naturally expire as society improves. Persecution
gives them vitality, activity, diffusion, and a. dangerous venom, whose
operations injure the persecuting power as much as the persecuted
individuals. ^ I will never apologise for persecution, because I am satisfied it is
unwise as well as wicked ; but I cannot wonder at it, when I read of
such unprincipled egotists as Simon Churnai, a Doctor at Paris, in 1201,
who, having acquired great popularity and applause for an eloquent and
orthodox lecture on Theology and the Trinity, was so foolish as to ex
claim, ' O, little Jesus ! how greatly have I confirmed and exalted your
law. — If I had chosen to have attacked it, I could have destroyed it by
much stronger reasons and objections,' Matt, Paris, p, 206.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 471
length the wiser plan, of studying the tactics and CHap.
training themselves in the camps of their antagonists. ^^
Peter Lombard, who lectured at Paris, was one of history
the most distinguished of these wiser friends of the
existing hierarchy. He studied carefully the scho
lastic metaphysics ; he associated his ideas by their
rules, and reasons in their style. He puts most ofthe
questions of that excited day ; but he answers them
according to the established faith, and by organizing
its authorities into the fashionable order. His " Sen^
tences," *^ a work so popular in the middle ages, as
to be every where studied, and incessantly com
mented upon, is an attempt to rein the increasing vo
latility and piignaciousness of the improving mind,
and to keep it within the Christian faith, by giving
that faith a dress of logical form, and by connecting
it with the researches then so much appreciated.*"
To please his age, he ventured to discuss points so
little knowable, and so little' serviceable in human
affairs, as — 'when the angels were made, and how ;
whether they be all equal in essence, wisdom, and
free will ; whether they were created perfect and
happy, or the reverse — whether the daemons differ
in rank among themselves ; whether they all live iri
hell, or some are out of it — whether the good angels
can sin, or the bad act virtuously; whether they
^ Sententiarum, libri iv. It is meant to contain the summa universae
theologiae. He says in his prologus, that, unable to resist the wishes of
studiosorum patrum, he was desirous to fortify the faith against errors of
carnalium atque animalium hominum : and that in his four books he has
displayed the fraudulentiam of tbe viper doctrine. Yet this vehemence
did not secure him from a charge of heresy in his own writings. His pro
logue attempts rhetoric. He had not the clear and exact head of th^
English schoolmen.
^ His first book is on tbe Deity and the Trinity ; the second on angels,
creation, the devil, and free will ; the third, on our Saviour's incarnation
and passion, sin, knowlege, and the Christian virtues; the fourth, on tha
catholic .sacraments„
H H 4
HISTORYOFENGLAND
472 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
B O OK have bodies ; and, whether every person has or has
^^- not a good angel to preserve him, and a bad one to
literary destroy him.*" At these pompous weaknesses of hu
man perversity, we may smile, and think Don Quixot
as reasonable in his knight-errant career, as the
schoolmen in debating on these untangible ques
tions. But an analysis of the better parts of this
work will be inserted in our fifth volume.
Most The delusion went on, till we had, mostly on the
doctors. s^^^ °^ *^^ church, besides the venerable Doctor
already mentioned,
The irrefragable Doctor - Alexander Hales ¦" - fl. 1 230,
The angelical Doctor - Thomas Aquinas - — 1256.
The seraphic Doctor .. Bonaventura - - — 1260.
The wonderful Doctor - Roger Bacon - - — 1 240,
The most profound Doctor .iEgidius de Columna — 1 280.
The most subtle Doctor - John Dun Scotus " - — 1304-
The most resolute Doctor Durand - - - — 1 300.
The invincible Doctor - W. Occham " - - — 1 320.
The perspicuous Doctor - Walter Burley ''' - — 1320.
ThemostenlightenedDoctor, Raymond Lully - — 1300.
¦"" Sentent. 1. 2.
¦" He became a Franciscan. He studied at Paris; and died there 1245.
Tanner, Bib. p. ,37 1> who enumerates his works. He was the master of
Duns Scotus. He wrote on the Sententiarum Liber of Lombard.
*' Born in the village Duns, eight miles out of England. He also
wrote on the Sentences, and on Aristotle's works. He went from Oxford
to Paris, and engaged in the controversies there agitated. He was a
Franciscan, and tbe master of Occham, He died 1308, at Cologne,
Tanner, Bib, 239. He started a new opinion on grace, against Thomas
Aquinas, which long divided the schoolmen. He is styled by his editor
' Theologorum omnium princeps,'
*^ Born in Surrey, a Franciscan. He supported the nominal sect. He
died 1347. His Summa totius logicae was printed at Venice 1508,
His foreign editor calls him omnium logicorura acutissimi; inviolatae
scholEB invictissimorura nominalium inceptores. Occham says, he writes
his book to collect all the rules ofthe art of logic into one treatise, p. 1.
It is in three parts. He quotes Avicenna. There is great conciseness,
precision, clearness, and decision, in Occham's writings. The ancient
preface to Occham says of him — ' I think the chief of these to have been
the venerable doctor, jn his nation an Englishman — ofthe minor friars —
sublime in the success of his genius and in the strength of his learning,'
Occh, Log. p. I.
" He was born 1275. From his great reputation, he was appointed
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 473
Besides friar Bacon, who belongs to a superior CHAP.
class, the class of true philosophers, five of these ^^^-
martial pugilists, the venerable, the irrefragable, the history
most subtle, the invincible, and the perspicuous, were schqlas-
born, and first fought their zealous fight, in the Bri- "c phi-
.- T_ T 1 1 LOSOPHY,
tish Islands. > — .,
Nor these only : So rapidly did the disputatious Theit im-
fever spread, that England abounded with these scho- poj-tant
lastic students in the reigns of Henry II. and his three the mind.
immediate successors.*' We learn from a cOntem^
porary writer, that a new order of mind, a new
range of study, appeared in England by the time
that Richard I. acceded, The ancient poets and his
toriographers, the venerated classics, were not only
neglected, but despised. Rhetoric was treated with
the contempt which indeed it merited. Logic was
new cast. Grammar itself was altered ; the old rules
and paths ofthe quadrivium were abandoned.*" The
new philosophy glared in the literary atmosphere
like a comet, attracting to itself the admiration and
attention of the most intellectual part of society, and
depreciating the value of all other studies.*' Implicit
preceptor to Edward iii. He attacked the opinions of Duns Scotus; he
studied at Oxford and Paris, and was at last made bishop of Ulm in
Suabia. His works were on some ofthe principal subjects of Aristotle's
treatises, and ofthe schoolmen: also, de motu animalium, de sensibus,
on memory, length of life, and tbe tides; on the soul, and on ethical,
ceconomical, and political subjects. He died 133B. Some of his works
have been printed after Grosteste's book. See the catalogue ofhis writings
in Tanner, Bib, 141, 142.
*^ John of Salisbury directs the first portion of his Metalogicus to an
attack on what he calls the new sect of philosophy. He personifies one
of its defenders under tbe name of Corneficius, aud he paints him with
features that have the air of being as exaggerated as those of a Saracen
on a sign-post, ch. 1, 2, & 3, This work was neatly printed at Leyden,
16.39, at tbe end ofthe Polycraticus,
^^ PoetiE, historiograhi habebantur infames.— Ecce nova fiebant om
nia; innovabatur grammatica ; immutabatur dialectica; coutemnebatur
rhetorica; et novas toti quadrivii vias, evacuatis priorum reguhs,.de ipsia
philosopbiieadytia proferebant. Metal, p. 741-
" It is an instance ofthe blindness of even worthy mmds, when no-
literary
historyof ENGLAND.
474 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK faith, dogmatical creeds, learned authority, and even
VI- plain facts, were undervalued. Convenientia and
reason were made the criterions of truth.** He who
had not imbibed the new philosophy, was treated as
being duller than the long-eared animal of Arcadia,
more obtuse and stupid than either lead or stone.**
Attacked In this rage for the disquisition of a specious in-
Sai^b'" °^ tellectual novelty, which so strongly roused the spleen
of our valuable John of Salisbury, we see the innate
love of improvement, its appetite for truth and rea
son, so inseparable from the human character, exert
ing themselves in all their energies.'" It was enough
that the new philosophy pretended to create great
velties occur, that J. Salisbury did not perceive tbe expressive force and
beneficial import of the words he was using : ' They brought from the
very depths of their philosophy, novas vias of the whole quadrivium;'
that is, new paths in arithmetic, geometry, astronomy, and music! But,
perhaps, we ought not to blame him for not anticipating the vast flood of
knowlege to which these new ways ultimately led. This passage, however,
shews us tbe immense utihty and importance ofthe rise and labors ofthe
schoolmen. ¦" Solam convenientiam sive rationem loquebantur. This argument,
be adds, sounds in the mouth of all ; and to name a mule or a man, or
some of the works of nature, was like a crime, the act of a simpleton
or an uncultivated mind, and which a philosopher should shun. It was
thought impossible to say or do any thing convenienteret ad rationis nor-
mam, unless the mention of conveniency and reason was expressly in
serted. Metal, p. 741.
• ¦" Si quis incumbebat laboiibus antiquorum, he was marked, and was
a laughter to all, as if not only asello Arcadis tardior sed obtusior
plumbo, vel lapide. Metal, p. 740.
*" Abelard had made the same struggle for tbe independent exertion of
reason. ' What does it profit,' he exclaimed in a passage which St. Bernard
censures, ' to speak ad doctrinam, if what we wish to teach cannot be
explained so that it may be understood ?' Ab, Op. p. 277. Hence Abelard
defined faith to be estimatio; on which Bernard exclaims, ' As ifit were
lawful to every one to feel and speak iu that what he liked, or that tbe
sacrament of our fiiith should remain uncertain in vague and various opi-;
nions. Faith, therefore, (adds the Saint,) is not estimatio sed certitude'
0,283. Bernard is right in his principle, but wrong in its application.
Faith once fixed on truth is certitude, both in its feeling and in its object ;
but it requires the previous exercise of reason, that it may not fasten on
chimeras, as the Romish hierarchy in the thirteenth century, often wished
it to do. This previous use of reason the schoolmen claimed ; and the
papal doctors were forced to deny it, because their existence depended
on the practice being discredited.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 475
mental superiority, and was at least original and plan- CHAP.
sible. These claims were sufficient to excite the po- •^^^-
pular admiration, and to engage the popular pursuit, history '
Even the sloth and luxury of the cloister could not "cholIs-
resist the spirit-stirring study. Monks aspired to tic phi-
attain, and were industrious tb spread it. " Many
admirers of this new sect," says SaUsbury, " have
entered the cloisters of tbe monks and clergy ; but
while a portion of these became sensible of their
error, and. confessed that what they had learnt was
mere vanity and vexation, others, hardening them^
selves in their insanity, swelling with their inveterate
perverseness, preferred to rave in their folly, than to
be taught faithfully by those humble minds to whom
God has given grace. If you do not believe me,"
he adds, " go into the cloisters ; examine the mari
ners of the brethren ; and you will find there all the
arrogance of Moab intensely glowing." *^
Our venerable author discloses to us aqother fact,
that these new-directed and ardent minds, feeling
their logical philosophy to excite without satisfying
their understandings, applied themselves to the study
of physic, to give them the solid knowlege they
panted for. Some went to the best schools abroad,
to study the art of medicine ; *^ and altho the moral
satirist, unable then to discern the connexion be
tween their pursuits and the improvement of society,
attacks this new direction of their curiosity with
fresh satire,*^ we can have no hesitation to class these
" Metalog. 1, 1. c. 4. p. 742.
^' He says, that others of this new school, beholding a defect in their
philosophy, go to Salernum or Montpelier, and are made there Clientuli
Medicorum. Ib. p. 743.
" His sneer is, that just as tbey became philosophers, so in a moment
they burst out physicians. They boast of Hippocrates and Galen ; they
protrude words unheard of before; they apply their aphorisms to every
thing, and strike the human mind like thunder, with their tremendous
phrases. Ib.
HISTORYOF ENGLAND
476 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK venturous reasoners, thus seeking tp combine physical
_^ science with scholastic acuteness, and striving to.raise
LITERARY thc humau mind to new paths of inquiry, among the
most important benefactors to the British intellect in
its early vegetation.
From the work of this ingenious churchman, we
perceive that he himself had gone deep into these
fashionable studies. I do not know where to point
out a neater and mor^ comprehensive summary of
the logical and metaphysical works of Aristotle, than
in the Metalogicus of John of Salisbury.^ As so
profound a student had well qualified himself to
judge, he had acquired a right to censure. Having,
like Solomon, fully enjoyed and exhausted the plea
sure of a favorite pursuit, his experience united with
his reason to condemn its inanity, and to satirize its
abuse. Weighing it in the balances strictly by itself,
his criticism was correctly right : It disclosed no
knowlege ; it communicated no wisdom ; its benefits
lay hid in its consequences, which had not then been
evolved." The very bursting of the bands of vene
rated authority, tho perhaps the result often rather
°* It forms the main theme ofhis book, after he has discharged his bile
at the innovating schoolmen. It is another proof of the importance of
these men whom he was depreciating, that he himself attempts in this
work to raise the study of rhetoric with all its tropes, colores and puerili
ties, into the public estimation again. Hence, he praises St. Bernard for
his manner of teaching tbe figuras grammaticEe, the colores rhetorices, aud
the cavillationes sophismatum, p. 782,
" It is just to the memory of W. Occam, to say, that he directed his
scholastic talents against the usurpations and conduct of the Roman pon
tiff. He wrote De utili dominio rerum ecclesiasticarum et abdicatione
bonorum temporalium in perfectione status monachorum et clericorum
adversus erroris Joliannis papis. This was printed at Lyons, 1495. He
iaiso wrote aTractatum quod Benedictus 12, papa nonnullas hereses Joan-
nis 22, amplexus est et defendit. This was in MS. at Paris, in Bibl. Col-
bertina. — He composed also the Compendium errorum Joannis 23, papae.
Tanner Bib. 555 ; and a Defensorum logices, quo conveljit violentu^^
•Romani episcopi imperium ; and an Invectivum contra possessiones Rom.
Font. Leiand, Descript, Brit. vol. 2. p. 323. As be attacked the pope, the,
pope excommunicated him. He accused the pope of teaching 77 heresies.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 477
of proud vanity than of enlightened reason, was good, CHAP.
not so much in its immediate produce as in its future ^^
effects. A torpefying spell was taken off from the history
human mind ; and if the first schoolmen only used
their new liberties in extravagance and insolence,
they were. soon followed by better thinkers, who
combined knowlege with reasoning, and, by a wise
moderation, made the freedom they assumed, valuable
to themselves and useful to the world.'^
It will be unnecessary to detail all the names that O'^he''
may be collected from ancient documents, of the
English students of the scholastic philosophy. Pul-
len, who became a cardinal ;°'^ — Simon Langton, to
whom we owe, in a great measure, Magna Charta ;
— the intrepid and patriotic bishop Grosteste, fore
most in every useful pursuit of his day ; the friend
.and cultivator of poetry, scholastic philosophy, Ara-
* In quitting John of Salisbury, I cannot forbear noticing the ac
count which he gives of his studies, as it shews the laborious appli
cation with which the scholars of tbe middle ages pursued tbe knowlege
they valued. He says, that in the year after Henry I, died, he went to
the Peripatetic school at Paris, on the Mount of St, Genevieve, and
there studied logic; he afterwards adhered to Master Alberic, as opina-
tissimus dialecticus and an acerrimus impugnator of the Nominal sect.
He was two years with -biin, and Robert Metridensis an Englishman,
both men acuti ingenii et studii pervicacis. He then for three years
transferred himself to William de Conchin, to imbibe his grammatical
knowlege.— After this, he followed Richard, called the Bishop, retracing
with him what he had learnt from others, and the quadrivium ; and also
heard the German Harduin. He re-studied rhetoric, wbich he had learnt
from Master Theodoric, and more completely from Peter Helias. Being
poor, he supported himself by teaching the children of the noble, and
contracted an intimate acquaintance with Master Adam, an English
man, and a stout Aristotelian, He prosecuted afterwards the study of
logic with William of Soissons, Returning at tbe end of three years, he
heard Master Gilbert on logic, and on divine subjects; then Robert
Pullen, and also Simon Periacensis, a faithful reader, but a heavy dis-
puter. These two last were his only teachers in theology. Thus, he adds,
I passed twelve years occupied by these various studies. Metal, 1, 2,
c. 10. p. 802-805.
" ' Robertus Pullen, whose memory is pleasant to all good men, and
whom the apostolic seat made a chancellor from a scholastic doctor,'
Metal, p, 746,
scepticism.
478 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK bian learning, natural philosophy, mathematics, di-
^^ vinity, and canon and civil law; and the fearless
and successful assertor of the liberties of the English
church, and protector ofthe English clergy, against
the taxations and tyranny of the Pope ; ^^ — Commen
tators on Lombard's book of Sentences, almost in
numerable:*" These, and many others of equal ap
plication, tho of minor fame, shew in their numerous
works, the subjects, the nature and the value, of the
scholastic philosophy, which appears to have been
peculiarly cultivated in England.*'
Their rjij^ schoolmcn became divided insensibly into
«r:pnMrl.<im. y ^
two classes : those, who allowed themselves to dis
course without limits ; and those, who defended the
existing hierarchy and all its theological system.
Of these last it will be just to say, that they, and
especially Aquinas, Bonaventura, and Duns Scotus,
'' See the copious and astonishing list ofhis works, most still in MS.
in Tanner, Bib. Mon. p. 345-351. They are equal in number to any
ofthe great Arabian philosophers: indeed in one trait he surpassed them,
for he also wrote poetry. See his Chastel d'Araour, Harl. MSS. 1121.
'''' We may guess the nunaber of these, from the facts, that no fewer
than nine Englishmen of the Christian name of Richard commented upon
him — as, R. Rufus, in 1270 ; R. Cornubiensis, R. Ruys, R. Middleton,
1300; R. Nottingham, 1320; R. Conington, 1330; R.Wilton, 1339;
R. Fishacre, 1345; and R.Wickinghain, in 1381. — There were also nine
Roberts, ofthe British Islands, who chose the same task; as Rob. Wal-
dock, 1272; R.Crowe, 1300; R. Walsinghara, 1310; R. Carew, 1326;
R. Cotton, 1340; R. Eliphat, 1340; R, Leicester, 1348; R. Worsop,
.1350; R. Walaby, 1399, Also, three Ralphs,, as Ralph Loxley, 1310;
R.Acton, 1320; R. Radiptor, 1350, Also, Roger Reyseth, and Roger
Swinehead, 1350; as also Stephen Petiington, 1417. — As these five
Christian names were taken by ine at random, I bave no doubt that
some others would yield as copious a list of commentators on this cele
brated work ofthe Magister Sententiarum.
^' I infer this from observing, tbat more English authors on this sub
ject are commemorated in the biography of literature, than of any other
country. Indeed I think I shall not exceed tbe truth if I say, that if you
take any subject of literature or knowlege, from the time of the Norman
conquest, you will find more English writers on it, than of any other single
country — and that, reviewing our writers on each collectively, they have
done more on every topic they have handled, than those of any other
country, I pen this with a belief that I do not exaggerate.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 479
stood, usefully at that time, in the gap between pTii- chap.
losophy and theology, and kept them from bitter and f^
irreconcileable variance."* But for them, it is not history
improbable that the study of the Arabian metaphy
sicians, which unfettered, might have diseased the '^^'^
mind by its own extravagancies, and filled the world
with scepticism, and with that selfishness and sen
suality which the Grecian spirit of debate and incre
dulity had produced, when the Roman empire fell.'^
The philosophical doctrine of the scholastic age was,
that religious knowlege was unnecessary, and that
the disciplinse philosophise were sufficient. Hence
Thomas Aquinas was forced to begin his elaborate
work, by proving logically that the sacra doctrina
was also essential, and that it was a real science.**
His exertions, among others, served to keep the
mind in a balance between philosophy and religion,
till succeeding thinkers could discern the corruption
from the primeval truth, and reform, without destroy
ing, the ecclesiastical system.*'
** We find from John of Salisbury, that the more scriptural teachers
were not only denied to be philosophers, but were scarcely endured as
clergymen. They were called the oxen of Abraham, and Balaam's asses
: — nec modo philosopbos negant, imo nee clericos patiuntur, vix homines
sinunt esse; sed boves Abraham. vel.asinos Balaamitos duntaxat nominant,
imo derident. Metal, p. 746.
" Among the erroneous opinions of the day, condemned at Paris in
1270, we find such as these — that tbe world was eternal — that there
never was a first man — that the soul dies with the body — that free-will
is governed by necessity — that the Deity knows nothing but himself —
that human actions are not governed by Divine Providence — that the
Deity cannot give immortality to a mortal creature — that the first cause
cannot make many worlds — and has not any knowlege of the future ; to-
,gether with a great many tenets on the Deity aud religion, which certainly
went to destroy the belief of bis existence, and of Christianity also. See
them printed at the end of Lombard's work, ed. Cologne, 1609.
" T. Aquinas Summa Theolog. p, 1. These topics form his two first
articles. °^ Of this description was our venerable Wicliffe. It is remarkable
that France has, in the present age of knowlege, furnished no person who
united enough of philosophy and of religion, to meliorate without destruc-
HISTORYOFENGLAND
480 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK These panegyricized masters, like all the other men
1 of learning whom we have noticed, excited the cu-
LiTERARY rloslty of their contemporaries to extensive disqui-
sitions, and contributed to form the intellect of the
ages that succeeded them; and, limited to these be
neficial results, we may justly sanction their ancient
reputation. There is indeed something very service
able to the mind, in the mode of Thomas Aquinas.
He first proposes the question he has to consider;
then, with all the candour of Dr. Paley, he fairly
and fully states two arguments against it. He sub
joins to these his own reasons for the opinion he
supports ; and, having thus placed both sides of the
subject before the reader's attention,, he draws his
conclusion, and adds some remarks in refutation of
the opposing arguments. On this plan he steadily
proceeds through all the innumerable ramifications
of his moral, metaphysical, political and religious
work.** That this popular art made no one wiser, and that
the questions most commonly discussed by it were
useless to every class of society, was perceived so
early as to be remarked by our reasonable John of
Salisbury.*' Even Becket was admonished by him
tion. Nothing but the extremes of total belief or total disbelief of the
Christianity of Rome, have yet appeared there — extremes that willyet shake
the nation, until a Melancthon, an Erasmus, or a Luther, emei-ge. The
same remark may be applied to Spain and Italy. It was a great beauty
in the English intellect, as afterwards in the German,, that it attained to
separate the injurious appendage from the substantial truth.
^ See his Summa, passim. — Of this celebrated man I state with plea
sure, that his sentiments, on some points highly interesting to human
welfare, were liberal and wise. He makes the common good the prin
ciple of government, vol. 2. p. 96, He says, that princes taking things
unjustly, are guilty of rapine, p. 126. He speaks highly of intellect, and
even makes it a virtue, p. 97. He decides that Jews and Gentiles ought
not to be compelled to Christianity ; and, therefore, perhaps humored
the prejudices of bis order against his own judgment, when he added,
that heretics and apostates might be. p. 21,
" Metalogicus, I. 2. c. 6.
OF THE
SCHOLAS
TIC PHI
LOSOPHY.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 481
to avoid them.** And the sportive Mapes, ever look- CHAP.
ing around him with an eye prompt to notice the ^^''*
ridiculous, exhibits, with correct satire, Aristotle as history
beating the air ; and logic, as raving with agitated °
lips.*^ In a preceding chapter we have endeavored to
give a just idea of the true merit and real utihty of
Aristotle; but now that he has achieved all the good
which his works were calculated to produce, and
that anew style of mind, without the blemishes which
he corrected, has become the character of Europe ;
arid that an indestructible treasure of real knowlege
has become our common patrimony, which sets the
sophist at defiance, we feel his logical works to be
laborious, obscure and difficult effusions of ancient
philosophy, and no longer useful. Our scientific
information has crowded upon us from other quar
ters and thro other methods, and therefore we now
perceive him to be a teacher of a system of verbal
disputation distinct from the acquisition of real
knowlege. Experience has decided that his method,
notwithstanding its great ingenuity, has never led
the mind to one beneficial discovery, or established
one true theory. Tho intended to end the reign of
" Becket Ep. 1. 1, p, 47. He says, Scholaris exercitatio interdum sei*
entiam auget ad tumorem,
" Est Aristoteles verberans aera —
Concussis SEStuat in labiis logica. See before,
Le Sage's description of his logical students is a good commentary on
Mapes. Nos yeux etoient pleins de fureur et nos bouches ecumantes.
On nous devoit plutot prendre pour des possedes que pour des pliiloso-
phes. — We may learn how Mapes was estimated by his contemporariqsj
from an unpublished work of Giraldus. He says of bim ; " It is time
that I should turn ' ad sales saporifero sapientiiE sale conditos, urbanas-
que reprehensiones Oxonien, Archidi. W. Mapi.' "^Lib. de distinc, MS,
Cotton. Lib, Tib, B. 13,
Vol. IV. I I
482 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK error, and it has suppressed many, yet in its turn it
^^- became the means of eternal controversy, re-pro-
literary ducing some of the evils it was meant to destroy. It
E>i<^LAND.^ was soon found to be a moveable mechanism of
word.s,'^" whose active powers no use can exhaust, no
hostilitjr defeat. This specious quality suited and
interested our ancestors ; and we must admit that
they were for a time benefited by its adoption. They
had no knowlege to make a better use of, and they
were surrounded by a superstition becoming tyran
nical, perhaps insensibly to itself, whose tendency
was to paralyze their faculties, and to extinguish
judgment in slavish credulity. In this state the Aris
totelian logic was a weapon of the busy mind, always
hewing the fetters that were ever forging to confine;
it.'' Tho it exercised itself on words, the exercise
was freedom, the activity was health, because it
educated men to think and argue ; and argument was
victory against political theology." As Providence
took care that true knowlege should pour in at the
same period, Aristotle, pursued by experimental phi
losophy, became a master always tending to make
. '" Hugo S' Victor, who died 1 140, in classing philosophy under three
heads, Logica, Ethica, and Theorica, while he allots to his theorica,
physics and mathematics, very sensibly ascribes to logic only words-^
' Logica de vocibus ; ethica de moribus ; theorica de rebus tractat.' In
Spec. Eccl. ap. Bib. M.ng. vol. 10. p. 1363.
" How sensible the zealous friends of the Romish sytem were of this,
we may infer from Peter, the abbot Oellensis,who flourished about ] l8o.
In his Mystica expositio, dedicated to our John of Salisbury, he says,
' The Aristottlian grove is not to be planted near the altar, lest we should
darken the sacraments of fai.th, by endless and superfluous disquisirions,
«vhich are useful only to the subversion of their hearers.' Bib. Magi
vol. 9. p. 919.
" The emphatic words of S' Bernard shew the eagerness with which
the new style of reasoning was received, and its important effects. 'Their
books fly; their darkness invades cities and castles; they pass from na
tion to nation, from one kingdom to another. A new gospel is fabricated
for peoples and states; a new faith is proposed ; a very different founda
tion 15 laid, for that which was anciently established.' Abel, Epist. p. 273.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 483
scholars wiser than himself. His tuition certainly Chap.
generated vivacity and acuteness of intellect; and ^^
mind, thus excited, fastening afterwards on better history
knowlege, perceived the inanity of its former pre- scholIs-
ceptor, and emancipated itself from his shackles by ^'c phi-
the very vigor which he had created. Persons were ^—^^I^
perpetually deserting the logical schools, to cultivate
more satisfactory knowlege;" and logic, thus com
bined and governed by physical science, operated at
last only to improve thejudgment, to create a spirit
of criticism, and to naturalize an independence and
an activity of inquiry, which has contributed power
fully to strengthen and enlarge the British intellect.
The schoolmen were certainly in a continual exer- Defects of
cise of disputing- mind, but their logic was not applied ^^^ ?'^}'°'.
r o ' & r r lastic logic.
to discover unknown truth ; it was emulously used
merely to discuss the truth or falsehood of any asserted
or stated proposition. Their chief aim was to dis
tinguish themselves ; and therefore their great delight
was to impugn and to overthrow ; or, if themselves
assailed, to defend what they chose to espouse, with
never-yielding pertinacity. They did not inquire
what zvas true in nature, but what must be true or-
false, according to their logical system. Hence they
put all thought and nature into the fetters of their
peculiar argumentation, and would reason and con
template them only thro the Aristotelian categories,.
They looked for the predicaments in all things ;
and not for natural properties and effects. They
sought, as the means and perfection of their art, to
reduce all facts and things into brief definitions^
and propositions ; which, once made, were all that
-" See Friar-BacoBjin-bisOpus Magus.'
I 12
HISTORYOFENGLAND.
484 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK was considered. Every syllogism consisted of a major
^^- definition, to which a minor was attached ; and from
LITERARY these, a short conclusion was drawn, which became
a specific proposition — the settled object of resistance
and attack. All their knowlege was thus broken and
separated into little fortified towns of dogmatical
assertions, which must either be assaulted by the
same kind of artillery, or be admitted to stand trium
phant and impregnable.
The benefit of the art was, that it taught men to be
exact in the selection of the most unobjectionable
words, and to use the fewest and most precise, by
which the meaning could be expressed, that they
might be less open to the attacks of their adversary.
They accustomed themselves to reason severely and
strictly on the expressions to which they reduced their
arguments, and to confine their opponents to the same
exactitude. These habits introduced great mental
force, activity, closeness and concentration; and de
stroyed the reign of rhetoric and style.
But it necessarily produced three connected evils,
which seem to be inseparable from all artificial
logic ;—
I. It is always reducing and contracting truths,
and their numerous relations, to petty verbal defini
tions, which blind and chain the mind, and keep the
great facts of the subject out of sight.
; II. It takes the mind from considering the real
truths and properties of things, and leads it to the
exclusive contemplation of the words which the dis
putants use ; and thus it converts discussion into un
serviceable argument of terms.
HI. Hence it creates a narrow verbal mind, acute
in batries of words, but mistaking logic for truth,
TIC PHI-
O LOSOPHV.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 485
arguing for reasoning, and definitions for facts," till ^Hap.
the intellect is at last disabled, by its own habitual i^
sophistry and verbal conflicts, from discerning the '""ory
realities ot nature, irom knowing their relations, or scholas-
desiring to trace them, and from modestly studying
the actual properties of things. Hence the natural
philosopher and the metaphysical logician have been
always distinct characters; the last mostly conversant
with words, and the first seeking only after facts.
The perception of this effect led lord Bacon to call
the human mind from argument to observation, from
dispute to experiment, and from dialectic sophistry
to philosophical induction. The more we meditate
on the subject, we shall feel that artificial logic, is
always tending to create that most useless of all cha
racters, a verbal polemic. In like manner all schools
and societies of debate operate to create a verbal
sophistry of mind, distinct from sound judgment, or
from the attainment of truth. They fix the eye on
the victory, not on the just thought; and too oftei^
make the discussion a personal battle for a personal
success. Philosophical induction must never be con
founded with lotfical discussion, from which it is
quite distinct, as well in form and spirit as in utility
and purpose.
IV. The scholastic logic also withered and sup
pressed the noblest part of man — the sensibilities of
the sympathizing heart ; it was equally uncongenial
with the ever-interesting pictures of the rich, the
impressive, and the elegant fancy.
The schoolmen contended that their art teaches us
to dissolve every species of sophism : '"* this may be
true ; but it no less instructs and enables the sophist
" ' Omneque genus sopbismatis docet dissolvere.' W.Occbam, Log. p. i .
I13
486 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
^^!^^ to frame his sophisms ; it equally quahfies the as-
saulter and the assailed ; it makes the artillery of
HmoRYOF d*^f'S"ce as abundant and as vigorous as the artillery
ENGLAND, of attack ; it caused the resistance to be as agile and
as pertinacious as the charge ; and it was, therefore,
really useless to the cause of truth. Whoever reads
their contests about the universals, whether these
had a real existence, or were only terms, will fully
see that logic has been, and ever will be, of small
benefit in the discovery of what is true. It is like the
science of military tactics, as useable by one side as
by the other ; and can be, and has always been, ap
plied to support the worst cause as well as the best.
The factitious art of logical reasoning seems, there
fore, to deserve little patronage among mankind.
The cultivation of a sound judgment, which, like
good taste and virtue, depends not upon argument,
syllogisms, definitions or sophistry, is that which
logic rather confuses than assists, and which must
arise from other disciplines and superior studies.
The schoolmen very highly estimated their dia
lectic skill. ' Logic,' says Occham, ' is the most apt
instrument of all the arts ; and without which, no
science can be perfectly possessed. It is not, like
the manual instruments of the mechanic, consumed
by use ; but, on the contrary, it receives continual
increase from the studious exercise of it on every
other art or science. As a workman gains a more
perfect knowlege of his tools by using them, so
a scholar, who has learnt the solid principles of logic,
will apply his labors more eff"ectually in every other
science, the more skill he has acquired in the dialectic
art.'" His ancient editor goes farther : he thinks,
" Occ. Log. p. 1 .
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 4!{t
' that no one can have access to knowlege or wisdom CHAP.
unless he has first trained himself in the art of logic. ^^
It detects all error, and disperses all darkness ; it history
directs the exertion of human reason, as light does s^o'lls-
our bodily movements ; without it, things arise like the ¦¦'<; ^"'-
dreams of the sick, or the fictions of the poets." ^* - ^^^
But the professors of every art or science, even
down to the dancing-master, are too prone to vaunt
the superiority of their favorite studies. :
All these discussions, and the great minds that
waged this dialectic warfare, have now fallen into
that vast tomb of oblivious time to which all that is
useless or mischievous is finally consigned. No one,
indeed, could press the art of arguing farther than
these acute men attempted and effected. They did
all that logic could do. Their object was to reason,
with its most irrefragable formulas, to conclusions
that could not be shaken ; and they were perpetually
building up and throwing down their own and each
Other's logical fabrics, with unwearied activity and
reciprocal success. They accomplished all that the
use of words could achieve; and they abundantly
shew us, that systems and forms of logic are little
else than combinatiQns of terms,^y which truth and
falsehood may be equally supported. . ;
Sound judgment can exist no where without right
opinions and adequate information ; as these occur;
it successively grows, strengthens and amplifies;
But, that logic as often impedes as assists its format
tion, the world's daily argumentations, continual
controversies, endless theories, and most logically-
reasoned compositions, on all sides of every disputed
question, satisfactorily intimate to the dispassioriat^
" Occ- Log. p. 1.
I14
488 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK observer. Every wrong opinion that we adopt pre-
^^' eludes a correct judgment, as far as that can operate;
LITERARY but logic is as often allied to wrong opinions -as to
ENGLAND, right oucs, and leads us astray from truth more fre-
^~~"' ' quently than it conducts us to it. It makes definitions
to suit its inferences, and then argues triumphantly
on the fetters which it imposes.
Nothing is a greater blessing than sound judg
ment ; no quality is more rare ; none is less likely to
be artificially made; no one is more injured by facti
tious argumentation. Logic may fabricate a wrangler,
but not a judge.
Ill effects The definitions of logic are much valued and re
definitions, commended, but no part of logic is more productive
of deception and sophistry, nor more applicable to
them, than these have been, and can be always made
to become.
When any thing is reduced into a definition, it is,
in fact, dwindled and cut down into so many words
as compose the definition. In these words the thing
defined is afterwards contemplated ; on these it is dis
cussed ; and the attack and the defence become
entirely on them. The actual thing is seen no more,
but in the defining terms ; and the debate upon it,
after they are submitted to, becomes a conflict of
words against words ; and as equivocations, subtle
ties, distinctions, disputes, arguments and phrases
maybe pursued on words without any end, all logical
definitions are themes of perpetual battle, and de
fences of all sorts of sophistry. The sophist, who
has a peculiar result to estabhsh, has only to frame
his definition so as to suit best the verbal deduction
ofthe inference he contemplates; and if he can per
suade his antagonist to adopt his definition, he begins
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 489
his discussion with an assurance of victory, tho, in chap.
fact, his victorious inference is the victory of his de- ^^^'
finition, not of the truth. history
Definitions are thus the inventions of logicians scholas-
seeking victory in a controversy ; not the discoverers '^"^ ''"'-
LOSOPHV
of truth. They are the weapons of battle, not the ' — ¦. — ^
instruments of judgment. A definition can only be
a just one, when it is a full description of all that
relates to the thing defined ; less than this, is but
a selection of a part, and the substitution of that for
the whole. It cannot, therefore, be used without de
lusion ; for it withdraws the mind from the totality
to the fragment ; and confines the consideration to
an imperfect, narrow, partial and interested view of
a small portion of the subject, that ought to be seen
and treated of in all its fulness and reality, unbroken
and unchained. But on this statement it is obvious,
that as far as truth is the object, no definitions would
be ever used as limitations of the reasoning ; for as
soon as they are applied to limit, they begin to hood
wink and deceive, A logical definition is a contro
versial device, creating a battle of words, and used
principally for the purpose of a personal triumph.
Hence, the verbal wrangler always seeks to get his
questions reduced to definitions; because, after that,
the dispute ceases to be an investigation of the truths
of thie thino- defined, and becomes a battle of words
on the terms to which it has been contracted, and on
which the most ingenious verbal debater is most sure
ofthe argumentative triumph.
The true use of definitions is that for which they
are used in the natural sciences ; that is, as names,
marks, tickets or indexes, pointing the attention to
wha,t is alluded to, and thereby separating it from
HISTORYOF ENGLAND
4ao HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK other things. The first order of the mammalia is de-
_^ fined by Linnseus, to be ' fore-teeth cutting, upper
LITERARY four parallel, two pectoral teats ;' and the monan-
dria class of vegetables is also defined to be those
' with one stamen,' and its first order to have ' one
style.' But if we were absurd enough to suppose
all the qualities of the plants and animals in these
orders to be included in these brief definitions, and
to argue upon them as such, we should do what is
done by disputers, who reduce great subjects of
thought to petty definitions, and then govern all the
reasonings within the artificial circle, which has been
thus made the mind's voluntary prison. If any of
the combatants attempt to take a larger field, as soon
as they perceive the undue confinement of the boun
dary they have chosen, the adversary, whose advan
tages rest upon their being so restricted, denies their
right to have it ; and insists upon their remaining in
it till he has extinguished their vitality, or made them
his captives.
Hence the character of the discussions of the
schoolmen, and the radical defect of logic, and of
all argumentation, may be stated to be, that the mind
is turned by them from truth to words. It is not the
thought of the speaker which is studied or reflected
on, but the terms in which he expresses it. To con
fute him by the words he uses, becomes the object ;
these only are looked at, or adverted to ; and instead
of being taken as the mere finger-posts to his ideas,
are confounded with them, and supposed to be no
other. But words can be eternally debated on; and
therefore logical disputants can maintain an ever'
lasting controversy. The works and conflicts of the
schoolmen completely illustrate this fact, and a sp.eci-
HISTORYOF THE
SCHOLAS-
LOSOPHY.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 491
men of their debates on the Universals may be ad- chap,
duced as elucidating how really useless most of their ^'l-
discussions were.
From the disputes on what universals were, arose
that great division of the schoolmen, which dis- "c phi-
tinguished them into the two classes of Realists and
Nominalists. The first contending, that what they
called an universal, was something really existing in
nature ; and the latter, that it had no such existence,
but was only a name, and a creation of the mind.
By these universals, they meant what have been since
called general and abstract ideas ; those which are
alluded to in Martinus Scriblerus, when his father
asked him ' if he could not frame the idea of an
universal lord mayor,' abstracted from the individual
lord mayor, and the fur gown and gold chain which
he had seen.
We will subjoin three specimens on the manner
in which the subject was discussed, from the
Arabian, Al-Gazel," and from the two British
" AL-GAZEL, ON THE UNIVERSALS.
Of the ' intentio,' which is called an Universal, its being is in
the intelligible things of the mind, not in singular existences.
Some persons hearing what we say, that all men are one in
humanity, and that all blackness is one in blackness, have thought
that the universal, blackness, may be some thing from which any
thing may be ; and that an Universal man is something, and that
an Universal soul is some being, one in number, and existing in
all nominals ; as one father in many sons — one soil in many
fields. This is the first error ; for if the Universal soul be one in num
ber, and be actually iri Peter and John, and others, and Peter
were wise and John foolish, it would follow that one soul may
be at the same time skilled and ignorant in the same thing, which
is incongruous. So if an Universal animal be one thing in number, and be
actually in many individuals, it would follow that the same animal
may be, at the same time, swimming in the water and walking.
on two feet ; or may be running on four legs and flying in the
air, which is also incongruous.
403 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK schoolmen, Joannes Dcns Scotus^* and William
^'- Occham.'
79
LITERARYHISTORYCF ENGLAND.
Universal being is, therefore, only in the intellect of the thing
which has the sensitivity. This intellect receives the form of
man, and the certitude of it, when some one individual thing is
proposed to it ; afterwards, if it should see another, a new impres
sion does not take place, but remains the same as before ; so if
he saw three or four.
Men, singly taken, do not differ from each other in any way in
humanity; but if one should afterwards see a wolf, then some
quidditas and another image (depictio,) different from the first,
would bq made in him.
An Universal, therefore, so far as it is universal, exists in the
intellect, and not in any individual thing; therefore, in exterior
or actual being, there is no Universal man.
An Universal cannot have many singulars, unless each is dis
tinguished from the other by some difference or accident ; for if
universality be taken nakedly by itself, without any super-addition
which may be joined to it, then number and singularity cannot
be imagined in it. There cannot be two blacknesses in the same
subject, though there may be two kinds of blackness in different
subjects, or in the same thing at different times.
Al-Gazel Logica et Philos. Venice, 1506.
" Of our British schoolmen, the two most famous were, the
Most Subtle Doctor, and the Invincible Doctor : of these. Duns
Scotus thinks Universals to be real things, and Occham has been
called the prince of the antagonist party.
DUNS SCOTUS,
The most Subtle Doctor.
The Universal, like other concrete things, is taken in three
ways. Sometimes it is taken for the subjectum (the upokeime-
non) that is, for the thing ofthe first meaning, to which the univer
sal meaning is applicable ; and in this mode the Universal is the
first object of the intellect. Sometimes it is taken for the form, to
\ifit, for the thing of the second meaning ; caused by the intellect,
and applicable to things of the first meaning : and thus the logi
cian properly speaks of the Universal.
Thirdly, for the aggregate from the subject and the form ; and
that is a being by accident, because it aggregates different natures
from which there is not one by itself; and so it is not from the
consideration of any artificer ; because of a beine by accident
there is no science, according to Aristotle in his sixth metaphy
sics ; because, also, it is not definable. Our discourse will, there
fore, be only of one of these, to wit, ofthe Universal taken in the.
second mode: not ofthe others.
It is first inquired, whether the Universal is a being? which
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES.
493
On these Universals, or General and Abstract CIIAP.
Ideas, the Nominalists contended, that such general ^^^-
seems not to be, by Boetius saying that every thing which is,
therefore is, because it is one in number. But the Universal is
not one in number, because it is predicated of many univocally.
Therefore, &c.
Again, According to Aristotle in the predicaments ; every thing
which is another thing than the first substance, is either said ofthe
first substance, or is in it. But the Universal is another thing than
the first substance, and is not said of the first substance, nor is
in it. Therefore, &c.
Proof of the Minor — Second substances only are spoken ofthe
first, as appears by Aristotle. But the Universal, as it may be an
accident, is not a second substance ; nor is it in the first, because
then the first substance would be an Universal, as that in which
is whiteness, is white.
So if the Universal is a being, it is so either from nature or
from the intellect — not from nature, because then it would be a
singular, and a term of transmutation. Therefore it is from the
intellect alone. Therefore it is a fiction, and so, not a being.
In opposition to this, the Universal is defined by Aristotle, in
his first peri-hermenias. But there is no definition of a non
existence. Also, according to Boetius, the second meanings are
applied to the first. But a non-existence is not applied to an
existence. But we say that the Universal is a being, because nothing is
understood under the ratio of non-existence ; because the intel
ligible moves the intellect ; for as the intellect is a passive virtue
(According to Aristotle de Anima) it does not act unless it be
moved by an object. A non-existence cannot move any thing as
an object, because to move is the property of a being in action.
Therefore nothing is understood under the ratio of non-existence.
But whatever is understood, is understood under the ratio of an
Universal. Therefore that ratio is not at all a non-existence.
And as to the first objection, I say that Boetius understands it
of that which is besides the operation of the intellect, of which
sort the Universal is not : and the same may be said as to the
second, which Aristotle so understands.
On the other hand, because it proves that conclusion by this —
Because second substances are spoken of the first, they are acci
dents in the first. But second substances, as is there said of them,
are not besides the operation of the intellect. Therefore he does
not understand it of those only which are besides the operation
of the intellect.
Proof of the Minor— Because in the beginning ofthe chapter,
he divides substance into first and second. If, then, that division
at all avails, it follows that the members, as he there understands
it, are opposed. But because the second substance is besides the
HISTORYOF THE
SCHOLAS TIC PHI
LOSOPHY.
494 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK expressions as bird, fish, nation, man, &c. were merely
^^- words or names, created by the mind for its conve-
LITERARYHISTORYOF ENGLAND.
operation of the intellect, it is not opposed to the first substance,
but is the same. Therefore he does not understand of the second
substance quoad illud, that it is a being besides the operation of
the intellect. Therefore I say that the Universal is spoken of the
first substances.
To that which is against this — ^because second substances are
spoken only of the first ; I say that second substances, as it is
there said, are accidents, not, indeed, realities (of which he puts
another member, as to be in) but intentionalia, of which by them
selves it is sufficient to be spoken of. But the Universal is some
thing more common to the second substance, because the second
substance is called an Universal, applied to something in the genus
of substance.
To the third I say — That the Universal is from the intellect.
And when it is said. Therefore it is a fiction : I answer, that this
is anon sequitur. Because to a fiction nothing corresponds in the
thing without. But to the Universal, something without does cor
respond, by which the intellect is moved to cause such an inten
tion. For, according to Boetius, a species is a slight similitude
of singulars, and genus a more slight one of its species.
Therefore I say, that effectively, it is from the intellect. But
materiall}^, whether originally or occasionally, it is from a pro
perty in the thing ; but not at all a fiction, &c.
Duns Scotus, Quest. 4. p. 4. ed. Yen. 1587.
Let US now turn to his scholar and antagonist, —
" WILLIAM OCCHAM,
The Invincible Doctor.
That no Universal is a substance, proved by many reasons and
authorities.
That no Universal is a substance exterior to or existing out
of tho mind, may be evidently proved :
1st. Thus — No Universal is a single substance and one in
number. If this be denied, it will follow that sortes (chance) will
be an Universal, because there is not more reason that one Uni
versal should be one single substance than another. Therefore
no single substance is any Universal. But every substance is one
ill number, and single ; because every thing is one thing and not
many. For ifit be one thing and not many, it is one in number.
This is called by all men, one in number.
But if some substance be many things, it either is many single
things, or many universal things. If the first be granted, it will
follow that a substance may be many men ; and then, altho the
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 495
nience ; and the Realists insisted, that they had a po- chap.
sitive existence exterior to the mind, and were, there- ^
Universal be distinguished from a particular one, it will not b
from particulars.
But if a substance shall be many universal things, I take one of
these universal things, and I ask— Is it either many things; or,
one, and not many? If the last be granted, it will follow that it
IS single— If the first be conceded, I ask, will it not be either
many single things, or many universal things? and thus the pro
cess will be in infinitum. Or it will be allowed, that no substance
IS an universal, and therefore is not a singular.
_ Agam— If an Universal shall be one substance existing in
single substances, and distinct from them, it will follow that it
may exist without them ; because every thing prior to another
may naturally, by divine power, exist without it. But the con-
sequens is abstu-d. Therefore
Again, if that opinion were true, no individual could be created.
If any individual could be, then it would occur, that it would not
take its whole being out of nothing, if the Universal, which is in
It, was first in another.
From the same it would follow, that God could not simply an
nihilate an individual, unless he should destroy other individuals.
Because, if he should annihilate any individual, he would destroy
all which is of the essence of that individual ; and by consequence
he would destroy that Universal which is in it and in others : and
by consequence other things would not remain, since they could
not remain with a part of their substance wanting, which would
be that Universal.
Again — Such Universal could not be put as any thing totally
out ofthe essence ofthe individual. It will therefore be of the
essence ofthe individual; and by consequence an individual will
be composed of Universals, and so an individual will not be more
universal than singular.
Again — It will follow, that something of the essence of our Sa
viour will be miserable and damned, because that common nature
existing really in hira, would be damned in the damned, as in
Judas. But this is absurd. Therefore —
Many other reasons might be adduced, which for the sake of
brevity, 1 pass by. But I confirm my conclusion by authorities: —
First, by Aristotle, treating in his Metaphysics on this question
— Whether the Universal be a substance. He demonstrates that
no Universal is a substance, when he says it is impossible that a
substance should be any thing of those called universals.
[After several references to Aristotle, he adds]
From the preceding authorities it may be collected, that no
Universal is a substance, howsoever it be considered. A consi
deration of the intellect alone does not make any thing to be a
HISTORYOF THE
496 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK fore, real objects of the imagination. They thought
^^- that there was such a thing somewhere as an abstract
LITERARY , . i_ • c -u
HISTORVOF substance or not a substance ; altho the meaning of the term
ENGLAND, may cause this name substance to be predicated of it or not, but
' — ^ not pro se. So as if this term, dog — State in this, a dog is an
animal. If this stands of the barking animal, it is true ; if, of the
star in the sky, it is false. Therefore that the same thing should
by one consideration be a substance, and by another not a sub
stance, is impossible.
Therefore it must be granted, that no Universal is a substance,
however considered. But every Universal is a meaning of the
mind, which, according to a probable opinion, is not distinguished
from the act of understanding. Whence they say, that the mean
ing, by which 1 understand mankind, is a natural sign signifying
man ; as natural, as a groan is a sign of infirmity or pain ; and is
such a sign,, that it may stand for men in mental propositions, as
voice may stand for things in vocal propositions.
And that the Universal is a meaning of the mind, is sufficiently
expressed by Avicenna, 5 Meta. where he remarks, ' I say, then,
that the Universal is expressed in three ways : for that is called
an Universal which is spoken of many in action, as man : for that
meaning is called an Universal, which nothing forbids to be
thought of when it is predicated of many.' From this itappears,
that the Universal is a meaning of the mind, conceived to be
predicated of many.
This may be confirmed by reason, for every Universal is pre-
dicable of many ; but the meaning of the mind only, or the sign
voluntarily instituted, is born to be predicated of many, and is
not any substance. Therefore the meaning of the mind only, or
the sign voluntarily instituted, is the Universal.
But now, I do not use the sign universally for a sign voluntarily
instituted, but for that which is naturally Universal ; because, in
deed, a substance is not born to be predicated afterwards; be
cause, if so, it would follow that a proposition should be composed
of particular substances, and by consequence the subjectum would
be at Rome and the predicated at Oxford; which is absurd.
Again — A proposition either is in the mind or in the voice, or
in writing. But to man they are not particular substances. There
fore it appears that no proposition can be composed of substances,
but is composed of universals, Universals, therefore, are not sub
stances in any way. Occham, Summa Logicae, c. 15, p. 8.
Occham's next chapter is pecuharly directed
agaiiist Duns Scotus.
Altho it be obvious to "many, that the Universal is not some
substance existing in individuals, beyond the mind, really distinct
D,UniNG THE MIDDLE AGES. 49^
or universal bird, which was contained in every indi- CHAP.
vidual bird, or which existed somewhere or other in- ^^^•
from them, yet it seems to some that the Universal is in some "I'IkT
manner beyond the mmd, and in individuals; not, indeed, really, scholas-
but formally distinct from them. Whence they say, that human tic Tin-
nature IS m sortes, which is contracted to sortes by one individual losophy,
difference; which is not distinguished from that nature really ' ^^ '
but formally ; hence they are not two things ; yet the one is not
formally the other.
But this opinion seems to be irrational ; because, in creatures
there cannot be any distinction whatsoever beyond the mind, unless
where the things are distinct. If, then, there be any distinction
soever between that nature and that difference, the things must
be really distinct. I prove it thus by syllogism. This nature is rio't
formally distinct fi-om that nature. But this individual difference
is formally distinct fi-om this nature. Therefore tliis individual
difference is not this nature.
So the same thing is not both common and peculiar. Yetj
according to these gentlemen, the individual difference is peculiar;
but the universal is common. Therefore the universal term and
the individual difference are not the same thing.
In like manner opposites cannot suit the same thing; but com^
mon and peculiar are opposites, therefore the same thing is not
common and proper ; which would follow if the individual differ
ence and the common nature were the same thing.
Also — If a common nature were the same really to every indi
vidual difference, then there would, be really as many common
natures as there are individual differences, and by consequence
neither of them would be common, but every thing would be
peculiar to the difference, to which it was really the same.
So every thing is by itself, and not thro another, distinguished
from whatsoever it is distinguished. But there is one humanity
of chance, sortis, and another of Plato, but they are distinguished
in themselves, not then by added differences.
Thus Aristotle says, whatever differ in species differ in number;
but the nature of a mau and of a calf differ in themselves in spe
cies ; therefore they differ in themselves in number.
Hence, that which by no power can concur in many, is by no
pojver predicable of many ; hut such a ijature, if it be the same
thing really with individual difference, can by no power suit many
things, because it can in no manner suit another individual.
Therefore it cannot by any power be predicable of many, and iii
consequence, can by no power be an Universal.
I take that individual difference, and the nature which it con
tracts, and I ask— Either between them there is a greater distinc
tion than between two individuals, or a less one ? There is not a,
Vol. IV. K k"
HISTORYOF ENGLAND.
498 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK dependently of any particular one ; which seems to
_^ resemble the Platonic notion, of some primeval ar-
LiTERARY chctypal ideas of every thing existing separately from,
and anterior to their created and visible forms. What
these ancient schoolmen, with the Aristotelians and
Arab logicians, called Universals, Mr. Locke termed
" Complex Ideas," and "General Ideas," made by
abstraction.*" He says, ' Ideas thus made up of several
simple ones put together, I call complex ; such as
beauty, gratitude, a man, an army, the universe. I call
greater, because they do not really differ ; nor a less, because then
they wouldbe of the same ratio, as two individuals are ofthe same
ratio ; and by consequence, if one is of itself one in number, the
rest would be one in number.
So I ask. Whether the nature be an individual difference, or not
an individual difference ? — If it be, then I argue syllogistically
thus — This difference is not formally distinct from individual dif
ference, but in nature there is this individual difference. Therefore
nature is not formally distinct from individual difference.
So this difference is peculiar and not common, and this indivi
dual difference is in nature ; then the nature is peculiar and not
common. But if it be said that this individual difference is not in nature,
the proposition is established ; for it follows, that if individual dif
ference be not in nature then individual difference is not really in
nature ; because from the opposite of the consequent follows the
opposite of the antecedent. Thus by arguing that individual dif
ference is really in nature— therefore individual difference is in
nature — ^he concludes this chapter with this decision, — " Every
essence and quiddity, and whatever is of substance, if it be really
beyond the mind, either is simply and absolutely matter, or it is
form ; or it is composed f\-om these ; or it is an imaginable abstract
substance, according to the doctrine of the Peripatetics."
W. Occham, Log. c. 16. p. 8.
™ Mr. Hoine Tooke ought to have the credit of this just remark.—
Mr. Locke would not have talked of the composition of ideas, but would
have seen that it was merely a contrivance of language; and that the
only composiuon was in the terms; and consequently, that it was as im
proper to speak of a complex idea, as it would be to call a constellation
a complex star : and that they are not idetis, but merely terms, which are
general and abstract,' Div, Purley, 1. p. 37, . •' '
LOSOPHY.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. 499
such complex ideas, which contain not in themselves chap,
the supposition of subsisting by themselves, but are ^^
considered as dependencies on, or afiections of sub- history
A OPT* HP
Stances ; as triangle, gratitude, murther,' " scholas-
Neither of these two parties allowed the victory to "'^ """'-
f 1 i.1 1 1 LOSOPHY
tlie other, and their logic maintained either side with
equal dexterity, plausibility, and pertinacity. Mr.
Locke thought, that our most abstruse ideas are " only
such as the understanding frames to itself, by repeat
ing and joining together ideas that it had either from
objects of sense or from its own operations about
them ;" and that even " large and abstract ideas are
derived from sensation or reflection." Mr. Home
Tooke more acutely considers them to be rather
words than ideas. It certainly is true that the Uni
versals of the logicians have no similar realities or
prototypes in nature. They are words indexing
thoughts and combinations of the mind, but are not
the representatives of actually existing things. So
far the ancient Nominalists were right. But some of
them pressed their theory into an erroneous scepticism,
from which many results were inferred, that were
directed tp attack all that we most venerate in nature,
and most need in society.**
^' Essay Hum, Und. book 2. c. 12.
. '^ We might have supposed that such reasoners as these, and such
forms of mind had vanished for ever ; but a class of men, uncongenial
with that true and sound British intellect, which has become the cha
racter of our nation, and originating elsewhere, has been lately striving
to revive the schoolmen's style of verbal argumentation and barren logic,
by k priori reasoning, from asserted propositions, assumed principles,
and partial definitions, which suit their wishes and intended conclusions,
independent of all past experience: ungrounded upon any confirming
facts; and not seeking knowlege, support, illustration or correction from
what has already occurred in human society. They decry, explode, and
would destroy all precedinc histories; the classics; all theistical phi
losophers; all works of feeling and of fancy; all former moralists and
moral compositions ; all religion and its virtues ; all divine nature ; all
K K 2
HISTORYOFENGLAND,
500 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK But the schoolmen did riot always treat on these
^ dialectical subtleties, or with this disputatious ver-
LixERARY bosity, conveying neither knowlege nor utility. As
specimens how they treated better subjects, we will
end this chapter with extracts from the works of two
of them, the Angelical doctor, Thomas Aquinas, and
the Learned doctor, Albertus Magnus. The pregnant
and perspicuous brevity of the style of Aquinas, is
remarkable.
SPECIMEN OF THOMAS AQUINAS.
Whether there be a Deity 1
Objection : — If one of contraries be infinite, the othier would
be totally destroyed. But it is understood that in the name of
God the infinite good is included, yet evil is found in the world.
Besides, what can be accomplished by fewer principles needs not
more : but all things in the world may be referred to other prin
ciples, as those which are natural, to .nature as their beginning ;
and others to human reason or will, as thence commencing.
Conclusio, or Answer : — There must be found in the nature of
things, one primary immoveable being ; the first efficient ; neces
sary ; not originating from any other. The pre-eminently Good
Being, and the Best. Governing previously by intellect, and the
ultimate end of all. This Being is God.
His existence may be proved in five ways : —
The first and more manifest is taken from motion. It is cer
tain and palpable to sense, that some things are moved in this
world. But whatever is moved is moved by some other : for no
thing is moved but according to its power to be moved, and as
causation; all immaterial mind ; and all the immortal produce of anterior
literature ; every thing but their logic and such of the phenomena of phyt
sical nature as. the senses are impressed by. In this age of free inquiry
and individual eccentricity, all sort of anomalies and extravagancies wiil
abound — and therefore we ought not to be surprised nor alarmed, that
many such arise of various shapes, characters and results. But the
intelligent sentiment ofthe Jewish youth expressed to the king of Persia,
will still be found in all things and on all occasions, everlastingly appli
cable! ' Magna est Veritas et prevalebet.' The true alone will
stand and spread. The false and mischievous must be deciduous, and
vyill, in time, disappear.
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. .501
something else acts upon it.' To moVeis to educe somethings froni CHAP.
power into aQtion. But nothing can be educed fi-om power into xil.
action, unless by some being in action : as fire^ which is heat in
action, operates on blood, which has the power of being heated, history
and by this it moves as some other moves it. scholas-
It is not possible that the same thing should at the same time tic phi-
be both the action and the power. What is acting as heat cannot losophy,
be the power of being heated, which is acted on ; so it is imposr
sible for the same thing to be both the mover and the moved, or
to move itself. Hence, whatever is in motion must have been
pioved by something else, and if that be in movement too, it must
also have an anterior mover. But this cannot infinitely go on soj
because then there would be nothing primarily moving, and there
fore there would not be any thing moving another; -because the
secondary movers only move as they are moved by the first mov
ing agency. The stick acts only as the hand makes it; therefore
we must necessarily come to some primary mover, which is moved
by no one, and this is understood by all to be God.
The second mode is from the efficient cause. In these sensible
things we find the order of efficient causes. It is not found, nor
is it possible to be, that any thing should be an efficient cause of
itself, for then it would be prior to itself, which is impossible. But
it is not possible that in efficient causes we should proceed in
infinitum ; because in all efficient ordinary causes, the first is tbq
cause of the middle one, and the middle the cause of the last.
The same occurs whether there be many intermediate, or only
one. The more remote the cause, the more remote the effect. I^
then, there be no first in the efficient causes, there viall be no ujti-
inate or middle one. But if we proceed with the efficient causes
in infinitum, there will be no primary efficient cause, and in that
case there can be no final effect, and no intermediate ones. But
this is obviously false ; therefore we must place some first efficient
cause, which all name, God.
The third way is taken from the possible and the necessary, as
thus : — We find in nature certain things which are possible to be
and not to be ; as some are found to be generated and to corrupt ;
and therefore may be and may not be. But it is impossible for
all things of this sort always to be, because what is possible not
to be sometimes is not. .^f, then, all things are possible not to be,
there was at one time nothing. But if this were true, there would
now be nothing ; because what is not, does not begin to be, unless
by something which is in being. If, then, there ever was no ek-
502 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
BOOK isteiice, if was impossible that any thing could begin to exist, and
VI. thus nothing would be existing. But to say this, would be a
manifest falsehood.
hiItoryof All beings, therefore, are not possible ; but there must be some-
ENGLAND, thing Certainly aod necessarily existent in nature. Whatever is
* •- ' this necessary existence, either has the cause of its necessity else
where, or does not have it. But, it is not possible to proceed in
infinitum with necessary things, which have the cause of their ne
cessity, any more than with efficient causes, as we have already
proved ; therefore we must place something which of itself is ne
cessary ; which has not from other things the cause of its necessity,
but which is the cause of necessary being to others. All say that
this is God,
The fourth argument is taken, from the gradations which are
found in things. There is always found something, more or less,
good, true and noble — or, more or less, something else. But more
or less is spoken of different things, according as they approach
variously to something which is most greatly so. As more hot,
which approximates to that which is exceedingly hot. There is,
then, something which is the truest, the best, and the noblest ;
and, therefore, the pre-eminent Being : for those things which are
pre-eminently true, are pre-eminent existences, as is mentioned
in the second Metaphysics. What, then, is pre-eminently such in
any genus, is the cause of all things of that genus ; as fire, which
is the greatest heat, is the cause of all heat. Hence there is some
thing which to all beings is the cause of being — the cause of good
ness, and of every perfection, and this we call God.
The fifth demonstration we take from the government of things ;
for we see that some things which are deficient in knowlege, as
natural bodies, yet labor without end. Which appears from this,
that they operate always, or more frequently in the same manner,
that they may pursue what is the best. But those things which
have not knowlege, do not tend to any end or object, unless di
rected by a knowing and understanding being — as an arrow from
an archer. There is, then, some intelligent being, by whom all
natural things are ordained to an end — and this being, we say, is
the Deity.
Thus to the first objection we reply, that God, as he is good in
the highest degree, would by no means suffer any thing of evil to
be in his works, unless he were so omnipotent and good, that he
would make good even out of evil. This, therefore, belongs to the
LOSOPHY,
DURING THE MIDDLE AGES, 603
infinite goodness ofthe Deity, that he should permit evils to be, CHAP,
that he should elicit good from them. . XII.
To the second we answer, that since nature, on account of its
determinate end, operates from the direction of some superior of the
agent, it is necessary that those things which are made from na- scholas-
ture, should be referred to God as to their first cause; so the others '^_\°_ '"_"'-
mentioned must be reduced to a higher cause, than reason and
the human will, because these are mutable and defectible things ;
but all things moveable, and possible to fail, should be referred
to some principle that is unchangeable, and that of itself is neces
sary and certain. Aquin. Summa, p. 5.
For his correctness of diction, and his single clear
headedness of conception ; for the simplicity of his
terms, and the precision with which he uses them,
Thomas Aquinas, throughout this mighty work, claims
to be entitled to our liberal commendation. It is, in
deed, an immense magazine of ideas, arguments, un
wearied thinking, and of inexhaustible ingenuity. It
would be an act of intellectual injustice not to place
him at the very head of all the schoolmen of every
country in Europe. None have combined such an im
mense mass of reasoning mind on such a wide and
diversified range of inquiry, with so much sound judg
ment, so much good principle, such useful sentiments,
such exact expression, such brevity of phrase, and yet
with a continual lucidity of improving thought, as
this astonishing man, whose life did not exceed fifty-
one years. Our Occham comes the nearest to him in
some of his qualities of mind and diction. But, on the
whole, he stands, like the highest summit of a lofty
range of very distant mountains, superior, distinct,
unequalled ; tho not wholly unvisited, and, except
in name, almost every where unknown ; and even in
that, by very few remembered.
604 HISTORY OF EJjfGLAND.
BOOK Our extract from Albertus Magnus, shall, to vary
^^' an unattractive, and now obsolete style of reasoning
LTERARY phrase, be of a less dialectic and Aristotelian form.
dlSTORYOFENGLAND. ALBERTUS MAGNUS.
Hence we say, that he who by continually purifying the images
of his senses, and by reflection, and by the direction of his intel
lect towards that w^hich is divine, attains to forget what is terres
trial, will internally exercise himself with his chastened and sim
plified thoughts, on the most uncompounded object that exists —
the Deity himself. By this exertion he disperses from his mind
all the similitudes, all the notions, all the impressions, ali the crea
tures of sense, and representatives of worldly things, and reserves
to himself only God. Upon Him you will find it delightful to
meditate witli a purified mind and feeling, and with a resigned and
devoted will. This, certainly, is the final scope of all intellectual
employment — to know your Creator, and to repose upon him with
the unpolluted thought, the most devoted affection, and the most
disinterested confidence. This cannot be done by what appertains
to body or matter : but by that faculty by which man is man
and this is his rational spirit. With his worldly images and sen
sations he sports and trifles; but while he confines himself to these,
he associates himself with his animal fellow creatures ; for these
they possess in common with him; but not having our potentiali
ties of soul, they can perceive, and know nothing but forms aod
excitations of sense. Man exists with a different capability.
Created in the image and likeness of his Maker, he exhibits these
in his intellect and in his free will. By these he is exalted to an
approximation to his God, and may aspire to an union with hini,
and to a permanent residence in his sacred presence. There all
that js earthly will dissolve away, and the sold will be beatified
in the light, love and glory of its divine Cause, Source, Friend,
aud sovereign Benefactor.
Alb. Magnus dela Colleg. del' Anima con. Dio.
END OF VOL. IV.
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near Lincoln's-Inu Fields, London.
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