Memorabilia; Or Recollections, Historical, Biographical, and Antiquarian

Part 12

Chapter 123,931 wordsPublic domain

At the ideal coronation of king Arthur, just mentioned, a tournament is described, as exhibited in its highest splendour. “Many knights,” says this Armoric chronicler, “famous for feats of chivalry, were present, with apparel and arms of the same colour and fashion. They formed a species of diversion, in imitation of a fight on horseback, and the ladies being placed on the walls of the castles, darted amorous glances on the combatants. None of these ladies esteemed any knight worthy of her love, but such as had given proof of his gallantry, in three several encounters.” Here is the practice of chivalry, under the combined ideas of love and military prowess, as they seem to have subsisted after the feudal constitution had acquired greater degrees, not only of stability, but of splendour and refinement. And, although a species of tournament was exhibited in France, at the reconciliation of the sons of Lewis the Feeble, at the close of the ninth century, and at the beginning of the tenth, the coronation of the emperor Henry, was solemnized with martial entertainments, in which many parties were introduced fighting on horseback, yet it was long afterwards that these games were accompanied with the peculiar formalities, and ceremonious usages here described. In the mean time, we cannot answer for the innovations of a translator, in such a description. The burial of Hengist, the Saxon chief, who is said to have been interred not after the _Pagan_ fashion, as Geoffrey renders the words of the original, but after the _manner of the Soldans_, is partly an argument, that our romance was composed about the time of the Crusades. It was not till those memorable campaigns of mistaken devotion, had infatuated the western world, that the Soldans, or sultans of Babylon, of Egypt, of Iconium, and other eastern kingdoms, became familiar in Europe. Not that the notion of this piece, being written so late as the crusades, in the least invalidates the doctrine here delivered. Not even if we suppose that Geoffrey was its original composer. That notion rather tends to confirm, and establish this system.

On the whole it may be affirmed, that Geoffrey’s chronicle, which is supposed to contain the ideas of the Welsh bards, entirely consists of Arabian inventions. And in this view no difference is made, whether it was compiled about the tenth century, at which time, if not before, the Arabians, from their settlements in Spain, must have communicated their romantic fables to other parts of Europe, especially to the French; or whether it first appeared in the eleventh century, after the crusades had multiplied these fables to an excessive degree, and made them universally popular. And although the general cast of the inventions, contained in this romance, is alone sufficient to point out the source from whence they were derived, yet it is thought proper to prove to a demonstration what is here advanced, by producing and examining some particular passages.

The books of the Arabians and Persians abound with extravagant traditions about the giants Gog and Magog. These they call Jagiouge and Magiouge; and the Caucasian Wall, said to be built by Alexander the Great from the Caspian to the Black Sea, in order to cover the frontiers of his dominion, and to prevent the incursions of the Scythians, is called by the orientals the WALL OF GOG AND MAGOG. One of the most formidable giants, according to our Armorican Romance, who opposed the landing of Brutus in Britain, was Goemagot. He was twelve cubits high, and would uproot an oak as easily as a hazel wand; but after a most obstinate encounter with Corinæus, he was tumbled into the sea from the summit of a steep cliff on the rocky shores of Cornwall, and dashed in pieces against the huge crags of the declivity. The place where he fell, adds our historian, taking its name from the giants fall, is called SAM GOEMAGOT, or GOEMAGOT’S LEAP to this day. A no less monstrous giant, whom king Arthur slew on St. Michael’s mount in Cornwall, is said by this fabler to have come from Spain. Here the origin of these stories is evidently betrayed. The Arabians, or Saracens, as has been before hinted, had conquered Spain, and were settled there. Arthur having killed this redoubted giant, declares, that he had combated with none of equal strength and prowess, since he overcame the mighty giant, Rytho, on the mountain Arabius, who had made himself a robe of the beards of the kings whom he had killed. A magician brought from Spain is called to the assistance of Edwin a prince of Northumberland, educated under Solomon king of the Armoricans. In the prophecy of Merlin, delivered to Vortigern, after the battle of the Dragons, forged perhaps by the translator Geoffrey, yet apparently in the spirit and manner of the rest, we have the Arabians named, and their situations in Spain and Africa. “From Conan shall come forth a wild boar, whose tusks shall destroy the oaks of the forests of France. The ARABIANS and AFRICANS shall dread him; and he shall continue his rapid course into the most distant parts of Spain.” This is king Arthur. In the same prophecy, mention is made of the “Woods of Africa.” In another place Gormund, king of the Africans occurs. In a battle which Arthur fights against the Romans, some of the principal leaders in the Roman army are Alifantinam, king of Spain; Pandrasus, king of Egypt; Broccus, king of the Medes; Evander, king of Syria; Micipsa, king of Babylon; and a Duke of Phrygia.

The old fictions about Stonehenge were derived from the same inexhaustible source of extravagant imagination. We are told in this Romance, that the giants conveyed the stones which compose this miraculous monument from the farthest coasts of Africa. Every one of these stones is supposed to be mystical, and to maintain a medicinal virtue; an idea drawn from the medical skill of the Arabians, and more particularly from the Arabian doctrine of attributing healing qualities, and other occult properties to stones. Merlin’s transformation of Uther into Gorlois, and of Ulfin into Bricel, by the power of some medical preparation is a species of Arabian magic, which professed to work the most wonderful deceptions of this kind. The attributing of prophetical language to birds was common among the Orientals, and an eagle is supposed to speak at building the walls of the city of Paladur, now Shaftesbury.

The Arabians cultivated the study of Philosophy, particularly Astronomy, with amazing ardour. Hence arose the tradition, reported by our historian, that in king Arthur’s reign, there subsisted at Carleon in Glamorganshire, a college of two hundred philosophers, who studied astronomy and other sciences; and who were particularly employed in watching the courses of the stars, and predicting events to the king from their observations. Edwin’s Spanish magician above mentioned, by his knowledge of the flight of birds, and the courses of the stars, is said to fortel future disasters. In the same strain, Merlin prognosticates Uther’s success in battle by the appearance of a comet. The same Enchanter’s _wonderful skill in mechanical powers_, by which he removes the Giant’s Dance, or Stonehenge, from Ireland into England, and the notion that this stupendous structure was raised by a PROFOUND PHILOSOPHICAL KNOWLEDGE OF THE MECHANICAL ARTS, are founded on the Arabian literature. To which we may add king Bladud’s magical operations. Dragons are a sure mark of orientalism. One of these in our Romance is a “terrible dragon flying from the west, breathing fire, and illuminating all the country with the brightness of his eyes.” In another place we have a giant mounted on a winged dragon; the dragon erects his scaly tail, and wafts his rider to the clouds with great rapidity.

Arthur and Charlemagne are the first and original heroes of Romance. And as Geoffrey’s history is the grand repository of the acts of Arthur, so a fabulous history ascribed to Turpin is the ground work of all the chimerical legends which have been related concerning the conquests of Charlemagne and his twelve Peers. In these two fabulous chronicles the foundations of romance seem to be laid. The principal characters, the leading subjects, and the fundamental fictions which have supplied such ample matter to this singular species of composition, are here first displayed. And although the long continuance of the Crusades imported innumerable inventions of a similar complexion, and substituted the achievements of new champions, and the wonders of other countries, yet the tales of Arthur and Charlemagne, diversified indeed, or enlarged with additional embellishments, still continued to prevail, and to be the favourite topics; and this, partly from their early popularity, partly from the quantity and the beauty of the fictions with which they were at first supported, and especially because the design of the Crusades had made those subjects so fashionable in which Christians fought with Infidels. In a word these volumes are the first specimens extant in this mode of writing. No European history before these has mentioned giants, enchanters, dragons, and the like monstrous and arbitrary fictions. And the reason is obvious; they were written at a time when a new and unnatural mode of thinking took place in Europe, introduced by our communication with the East.

Geoffrey, in his chronicle, gives a genealogy of the kings of Britain, from the days of Brutus, including a list of seventy monarchs, who governed this island, previously to the invasion of Julius Cæsar. This list is very distinct and plain, but bears so many marks of invention, either of himself, or of the author, from whom he translated his chronicle, that it has long since been treated as a mere fiction. With respect to the story of Brutus, the bishop of St. Asaph is of opinion, that this forgery was intended to pass off the English kings, as being as nobly descended as the kings of other nations, by drawing their descent from the Trojans, according to the belief of the age in which the author lived. Sir William Temple, in his introduction to the History of England, (p. 19.) accounts the story of Brutus, as a fabulous invention.

Bishop Nicolson (Hist. Libr. p. 37.) says, that the best defence that can be made for Geoffrey’s history, is that which was written by Sir John Price, and published at London, in quarto, in 1573, under the title of _Historiæ Britannicæ Defensio_. This was dedicated by the author, to Lord Burleigh. (See Herbert’s Ames, vol. 2. p. 935, 1056.)

The chronicle of Geoffrey of Monmouth, has occasioned a long controversy, and divided the learned world as much as any other work given to the public. By some it has been treated as a forgery imposed upon the world by Geoffrey himself, whilst by others the ground work is considered as true, although the history, like most monkish writings, is mixed with childish fables and legendary tales.

The controversy has now been some time finally decided, and the best Welsh critics allow that Geoffrey’s work was a vitiated translation of the history of the British kings, written by Tyssilio, or St. Telian, bishop of St. Asaph, who flourished in the seventh century. Geoffrey in his work omitted many parts, made considerable alterations, additions, and interpolations, latinised many of the British appellations, and in the opinion of a learned Welshman,[45] (Lewis Morris) metaphorically murdered Tyssillio. We may therefore conclude that Geoffrey ought not to be cited as historical authority any more than Amadis de Gaul, or the Seven Champions of Christendom.

Geoffrey’s historical Romance, however, has not only been versified by monkish writers, but has supplied some of our best poets with materials for their sublime compositions. Spenser in the second book of his “Fairie Queene” has given

“A Chronicle of Briton kings ”From Brute to Arthur’s rayne;“

in which he has adorned the genealogy with poetical images, and introduces it with a sublime address to queen Elizabeth, who was proud of tracing her descent from the British line.

In this historical romance is also to be found, the affecting history of Leir, king of Britain, the eleventh in succession after Brutus, who divided his kingdom between Goneriller and Regan, his two elder daughters, and disinherited his younger daughter, Cordeilla. Being ungratefully treated by his elder daughters, he was restored to the crown by Cordeilla, who espoused Aganippus, king of the Franks. From this account Shakespeare selected his incomparable tragedy of king Lear; but improved the pathos by making the death of Cordeilla, which name he softened after the example of Spenser into Cordelia, precede that of Lear, whilst in the original story, the aged father is restored to his kingdom, and survived by Cordeilla.

Milton seems to have been particularly fond of Geoffrey’s tales,[46] to which he was indebted for the beautiful fiction of Sabrina in the mask of Comus. In his youth he even formed the design of making the early period of the British history, from Brutus to Arthur, the subject of an Epic Poem. The poetical language of Milton was peculiarly suited to this species of romance; he would have exalted the legends of Geoffrey, and enriched with the finest imagery the incantations and prophecies of Merlin, the heroic deeds of Vortimer, Aurelius, and Uther Pendragon.

The fables of Geoffrey have been clothed in rhyme by Robert of Gloucester, a monk of the abbey of Gloucester. He has left a poem of considerable length, which is a history of England in verse, from Brutus to the reign of Edward the first. His rhyming chronicle is, however, destitute either of art or imagination, and Geoffrey’s prose, frequently has a more poetical air than this author’s verses. It was evidently written after the year 1278, as the poet mentions king Arthur’s sumptuous tomb, erected in that year, before the high altar of Glastonbury abbey, and he declares himself a living witness of the remarkably dismal weather which distinguished the day on which the battle of Evesham was fought in the year 1265. From these and other circumstances this piece appears to have been composed about the year 1280. It is full of Saxonisms, which indeed abound more or less, in every writer before Gower and Chaucer.

Geoffrey was also copied by an old French poet, called Maister Wace, or Gasse, from which Robert de Brunne in his metrical chronicle of England translated that part which extends from Æneas to the death of Cadwallader. Wace’s poem is commonly called Roman de Rois d’Angleterre, and is esteemed one of the oldest of the French Romances.

With respect to the materials this chronicle has afforded to other writers, I will here give an instance or two.

Tyrrel, in his history of England, acknowledges that his first book is an epitome of Geoffrey’s pretended history; but at the same time says that if it had not been more for the diversion of the younger sort of readers, and that the work would have been thought to be imperfect without it, he should have been much better satisfied in wholly omitting it.

In the preface to Stow’s chronicle, (folio, 1631) the editor observes that Neubrigensis had written several invectives against Geoffrey, but more out of spleen than judgment. He charges that writer with maliciously endeavouring to destroy the credit of Geoffrey, because he himself having been a supplicant for the bishoprick of St. Asaph, had been rejected by the Prince of Wales, and had thus become the opponent of the Welsh history. His observations, Stow says, have been confuted by Sir John Price, Dr. Powel, and also by Lambard, in his perambulations of Kent. Stow then mentions John of Whethamsted, Polydore Virgil, and others, who have written against Geoffrey, and afterwards enumerates a long list of writers, as having uniformly supported him, or in other words, who have copied his history into their own chronicles.—Hume occasionally refers to Geoffrey, as an authority for some matters respecting the Saxon period of his history.

The History of Geoffrey was printed at Paris, in quarto, in 1508, and again in the same size, by Ascensius, in 1517. It was also printed with five other British historians, in folio, at Leyden, in 1587. Ponticus Virunnius, an Italian author, made an abridgment of it, in six books, which was printed at London, by Powel, in 1585, and also in the edition just mentioned.

A translation of Geoffrey’s chronicle was made by Aaron Thompson, and published at London in 1718, to which was prefixed a long preface, relating to the authority of the history. Thompson’s vindication of his author is elaborately written, and he defends him with great skill and learning; but after refuting the charge of forgery, he has failed in his attempt to establish Geoffrey’s work as an historical performance, for he himself invalidates its authority, by acknowledging that it was only such an irregular account, as the Britons were able to preserve in those times of destruction and confusion, with the addition of some romantic tales, which indeed might be traditions among the Welsh, and such as Geoffrey might think entertaining stories for the credulity of the times.

Thompson, in his preface, says that in making his translation, he used two editions of Geoffrey. The first was the Paris edition of Ascensius, 1517, which abounds with abbreviations of words, sometimes rendering their reading ambiguous. The other was the edition of Commeline, printed in the year 1587, which is much the most correct. These two were printed from different manuscripts, and there is a considerable variation between them, especially in the orthography of persons and places. This observation extends to the several ancient abridgments of Geoffrey, by Alfred of Beverley, Ralph Diceto, Matthew of Westminster, Ralph Higden, and Ponticus Virunnius.

Footnote 44:

Nennius lived in the ninth century, and is said to have left behind him several treatises, of which all that has been published is the history, which was printed for the first time in Dr. Gale’s Collection of British Historians, published at Oxford in 1687 and 1691, in 2 vols. folio. Leland mentions an ancient copy of Nennius’s history, which he says he borrowed from Thomas Solme, Secretary for the French language to king Henry the eighth, in the margin of which were the additions of _Sam. Beaulanius_, or _Britannus_. He has transcribed several of these marginal annotations, which as it appears, were afterwards inserted in the body of the history, and were printed in that manner by Dr. Gale. The Doctor in his notes, mentions Beaulanius as the Scholiast on the copy which he used, but Leland has a great many other things, as extracts out of Beaulanius, which Dr. Gale does not mention to be only in the Scholion. There is also in the Bodleian Library a manuscript of Nennius apparently nearly 600 years old, in which the prefaces and all the interpolations, which Leland says are by Beaulanius, are wanting.

Professor Bertram, of Copenhagen, published in the year 1757, “Britannicarum gentium Historiæ Antiquæ Scriptores tres; Ricardus Corinensis, Gildas Badonicus, Nennius Banchorensis: recensuit, notisque et indice auxit Carolus Bertramus, S. A. Lond. Soc. &c. Havniæ, 1757.” 8vo. The Professor followed Dr. Gale’s edition of Gildas and Nennius, but in the latter he has distinguished the interpolations of Beaulanius from the genuine text. Mr. Gough, (Brit. Topogr. vol. 1. p. 15.) mentions Mr. Evan Evans having been long preparing a new edition of Nennius, from the Bodleian and other manuscripts.

Footnote 45:

Cambrian Register, 1795, p. 947.

Footnote 46:

In 1670, Milton published his History of England, comprising the whole fable of Geoffrey, and continued to the Norman Invasion. Why he should have given the first part, which he seems not to have believed, and which is universally rejected, it is difficult to conjecture. The style is harsh, but it has something of rough vigour, which perhaps may often strike, though it cannot please. On this history, the licenser fixed his claws, and before he would transmit it to the press, tore out several parts. Some censures of the Saxon Monks were taken away, lest they should be applied to the modern Clergy; and a character of the Long Parliament and Assembly of Divines, was excluded; of which the Author gave a copy to the Earl of Anglesea, and which being afterwards published, has been since inserted in its proper place.—_Johnson’s Lives of the Poets, Art. Milton._

LIFTING UP THE HAND IN SWEARING.

We find this significant ceremony of lifting up the hand in swearing, practised by the Greeks and Trojans. Thus Agamemnon swears in Homer, (Iliad, 7, 412)

“To all the gods his sceptre he uplifts.”

And Dolon requiring an oath of Hector, (Iliad, 10, 321)

“But first exalt thy sceptre to the skies, ”And swear——“

So in Virgil, (Æn. 12, 196) we find Latinus, when swearing, looking up to heaven, and stretching his right hand to the stars.

And we even meet with traditionary traces of their gods swearing in like manner. Thus Apollo, in Pindar, orders Lachesis, one of the Fates, to lift up her hands and not violate the great oath of the gods.

Giving one’s hand _under_, or to another was a token of submission. It was acknowledging his own power subject to that of the other. In this manner all the princes submitted to Solomon, (1 Chron. 29, 24) and Hezekiah commands the children of Israel, (2 Chron. 30, 8) to give the hand to JEHOVAH, that is to submit themselves and ascribe the power and the glory to him.

Homage is still performed in many places by the homager’s kneeling down and putting his hands between those of his lord, then taking an oath of fealty to him; after which they kiss each other’s cheek, in token of friendship and fidelity.

Giving the hand, was also a token of promising; it was a kind of staking their active powers for the performance of some promise or engagement. (See Ezra, 10, 19.)

The joining or taking of hands, among the ancients, betokened confederacy, or confirmation of some promise. This is illustrated by Homer’s expression, (Iliad, 21, 286) where Neptune and Minerva appear to Achilles, in a human shape, and confirm their promise, by taking his hand in their’s. So (Iliad, 6, 233) Glaucus and Diomed took hold of each other’s hands, and plighted their faith. On which line, Eustathius remarks, they plighted their faith to each other, by the accustomed ceremony of joining their right hands.[47]

We observe the same mode of joining hands in our marriage ceremony; and the custom of shaking hands, has also reference to some engagement for the future, as well as being a token of friendship and amity.

Footnote 47:

Parkhurst’s Heb. Lex. 271.

VILLIERS, DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM.

A treaty of marriage between Charles, prince of Wales, (afterwards Charles I.) and the Infanta of Spain, having been a long time in agitation, Buckingham, in 1623, persuaded Prince Charles to make a journey into Spain, and to fetch home his mistress, the Infanta, by representing to him, how brave and gallant an action it would be, and how soon it would put an end to those formalities, which, though all substantial matters were already agreed upon, might yet retard her voyage to England many months. It is suggested by Lord Clarendon, that Buckingham’s motive for this journey, was an unwillingness that the Earl of Bristol, the ambassador in Spain, should have the sole honour of concluding the treaty of marriage. However, the king was vehemently against this journey, and indeed with good reason; but the solicitations of the prince, and the impetuosity of Buckingham, prevailed.