Part 3

From the _Vox Clamantis_ it is evident that the rising of the Peasants produced a very powerful, indeed almost an overwhelming, impression upon his mind. He describes the terror inspired by it among those of his social standing in the most impressive manner. The progress of his political development during the reign of Richard II is clearly seen in his Latin works, with their successive revisions. He began, it is evident, with full hope and confidence that the youthful king would be a worthy representative of his father the Black Prince, both in war and in peace. As time goes on, and the boy develops into an ill-regulated young man, under evil influences of various kinds, the poet begins to have doubts, and these gradually increase until they amount to certainty, and rebuke and denunciation take the place of the former favourable anticipations. In the latest version of the _Confessio Amantis_, which is, no doubt, contemporary with some of these changes in the text of the _Vox Clamantis_, we see the author’s confidence transferred from the king to his cousin, not as yet regarded as a successor to the throne, but thought of as representing a fair ideal of chivalry and honesty. Finally, in the _Cronica Tripertita_, he accepts the fall of Richard as the fatal consequence of a course of evil government and treachery, and rejoices in the prospect of a new order of things under his predestined hero.

We see here the picture of one who is not devoted to a particular party, but looks to what he conceives as the common good, deeply impressed with the sense that things are out of joint, and hoping against hope that a saviour of society may arise, either in the person of the young king, or of his vigorous and chivalrous cousin. There is no sign of any liking for John of Gaunt or of any attachment to the Lancastrian party generally; but he is stirred to very genuine indignation at the unfair treatment of men whom he regards as honest patriots, such as Gloucester, the Arundels, and Cobham. He himself was evidently a most patriotic Englishman, loving his country and proud of its former greatness. For this we may refer especially to _Vox Clamantis_, vii. 1289 ff., but the same feeling is visible also in many other passages. He is a citizen of the world no doubt, but an Englishman first, and he cares intensely for the prosperity of his native land. Even when he writes in French it is for England’s sake,

‘O gentile Engleterre, a toi j’escrits.’

When he decides that the _Confessio Amantis_ could no longer go forth with Richard as its patron, it is to England that he dedicates his poem, and for his country that he offers up the prayers which he can no longer utter with sincerity on behalf of the worthless king (_Conf. Am._ Prol. 24 and viii. 2987).

From the _Confessio Amantis_ we learn the circumstances under which that work was undertaken, owing in part at least to a suggestion from the king himself, who, meeting Gower upon the river, made him come into his own barge and conversed with him familiarly on his literary projects, urging him apparently to the composition of a poem in English, and perhaps suggesting Love as the subject. We gather also that in the year 1390 the author considered himself already an old man, and that he had then suffered for some time from ill-health (Prol. 79*, viii. 3042*), and from the Epistle to Archbishop Arundel prefixed later to the _Vox Clamantis_, as well as from the Latin lines beginning ‘Henrici Regis’ (or ‘Henrici quarti’) we learn that he was blind during the last years of his life, probably from the year 1400. We may reasonably suppose that he was born about the year 1330, or possibly somewhat later. From the Latin statement about his books we learn, what is tolerably obvious from their tenour, that his chief aim in writing was edification, while at the same time we gather from the opening of the first book of the _Confessio Amantis_ that he then despaired of effecting anything by direct admonition, and preferred finally to mingle amusement with instruction. The Latin lines at the end of this volume, beginning ‘Dicunt scripture,’ express a principle which he seems to have followed himself, namely that a man should give away money for good purposes during his own life, rather than leave such business to be attended to by his executors.

The literary side of his activity is sufficiently dealt with in the introductions to his several works, and there also it is noted what were the books with which he was acquainted. It is enough to say here that he was a man of fairly wide general reading, and thoroughly familiar with certain particular books, especially the Bible, all the works of Ovid, and the _Aurora_ of Peter de Riga.

THE LATIN WORKS.

Of the works which are included in the present volume the _Vox Clamantis_ is the most important. It is written in elegiac verse, more or less after the model of Ovid, and consists of 10,265 lines, arranged in seven books, of which the first, second and third have separate prologues, and each is divided into a series of chapters with prose headings. As to the date of composition, all that we can say is that the work in its present form is later than the Peasants’ rising in the summer of 1381, and yet it was evidently composed while the memory of that event was fresh, and also before the young king had grown beyond boyhood. The advice to the king with regard to fidelity in marriage need not be taken to have special reference to the king’s actual marriage at the end of the year 1382, but perhaps it is more natural to suppose that it was written after that event than before.

The general plan of the author is to describe the condition of society and of the various degrees of men, much as in the latter portion of the _Speculum Meditantis_. This, however, is made subordinate to the detailed account, given at the beginning, of the Peasants’ rising, and that is in fact set down as the main subject of the work in the Latin account of it given by the author: ‘Secundus enim liber sermone Latino versibus exametri et pentametri compositus tractat super illo mirabili euentu, qui in Anglia tempore domini Regis Ricardi secundi anno regni sui quarto contigit, quando seruiles rustici impetuose contra nobiles et ingenuos regni insurrexerunt. Innocenciam tamen dicti domini Regis tunc minoris etatis causa inde excusabilem pronuncians, culpas aliunde, ex quibus et non a fortuna talia inter homines contingunt enormia, euidencius declarat. Titulusque voluminis huius, cuius ordo septem continet paginas, Vox Clamantis nominatur.’

So the statement of contents ran in its earlier form. Afterwards the excuses made for the king on the ground of his youth were withdrawn, and in the final form of the statement the events of the _Cronica Tripertita_ are brought into the reckoning, and the fall of Richard seems to be represented as a moral consequence of the earlier misfortunes of his reign.

Evidently what is quoted above is a very insufficient summary of the _Vox Clamantis_, which in fact deals with the Peasants’ rising only in its first book; and notwithstanding the fact that this event so much overshadows the other subjects of the poem that the author in describing his work afterwards treated it as the only theme, there is some reason to question whether what we have is really the original form of the poem, and even to conclude that the work may have been originally composed altogether without this detailed narrative of the insurrection. For this idea there is some manuscript authority. It has not hitherto been noted that in one copy (MS. Laud 719) the _Vox Clamantis_ appears with the omission of the whole of the first book after the Prologue and first chapter[66]. At the same time the text of this manuscript seems to be complete in itself, and the books are numbered in accordance with the omission, so that there are six books only, our second book being numbered as the first[67]. There is really something to be said for this arrangement, apart from the fact that it occurs in a single manuscript. The first book, with its detailed account of the Peasants’ revolt, though in itself the most interesting part of the work, has certainly something of the character of an insertion. The plan of the remainder seems to be independent of it, though the date, June, 1381, which is found also in the Laud MS.,

‘Contigit vt quarto Ricardi regis in anno, Dum clamat mensem Iunius esse suum,’

was doubtless intended to suggest that portentous event as the occasion of the review of society which the work contains. The prologue of the second book, which introduces the teachings of the vision with an invocation of God’s assistance, an apology for the deficiencies of the work, and an appeal to the goodwill of the reader, and concludes with a first announcement of the name of the succeeding poem, _Vox Clamantis_, would certainly be much more in place at the beginning of the whole work than here, after more than two thousand lines, and there is no difficulty in supposing that the author may have introduced his account of the Peasants’ revolt as an afterthought. The chief reason for hesitating to accept the Laud MS. as representing an authentic form of the poem, lies in the fact that the text of this MS. is rather closely related to that of another copy, MS. Digby 138, which contains the first book in its usual place; and it is perhaps more likely that the original archetype of these two MSS. was one which included the first book, and that this was omitted for some reason by the scribe of the Laud MS., than that the copyist of the Digby MS. perceived the absence of this book and supplied it from some other quarter.

One other matter affecting our estimate of the style of the composition generally has perhaps been sufficiently illustrated in the Notes of this edition, that is to say, the extent to which the author borrows in the _Vox Clamantis_ from other writers. It is sufficiently obvious to a casual reader that he has appropriated a good many lines from Ovid, though the extent of this schoolboy plagiarism is hardly to be realised without careful examination; but his very extensive obligations to other writers have not hitherto been pointed out. He repeatedly takes not lines or couplets only, but passages of eight, ten or even twenty lines from the _Aurora_ of Peter Riga, from the poem of Alexander Neckam _De Vita Monachorum_, from the _Speculum Stultorum_, or from the _Pantheon_, so that in many places the composition is entirely made up of such borrowed matter variously arranged and combined. This is evidently a thing to be noted, because if the author, when describing (for example) the vices of monasteries, is found to be merely quoting from Alexander Neckam, we cannot attach much value to his account as a picture of the manners of his own time. His knowledge of Ovid seems to have been pretty complete, for he borrows from almost every section of his works with the air of one who knows perfectly well where to turn for what he wants; quite a large portion of Neckam’s poem is appropriated without the smallest acknowledgement, and many long passages are taken from the _Aurora_, with only one slight mention of this source (iii. 1853). Most of the good Latin lines for which Gower has got credit with critics are plagiarisms of this kind, and if Professor Morley had realized to what extent the _Vox Clamantis_ is a compilation, he would hardly have estimated the work so highly as he has done. The extracts from medieval authors are to some extent tolerable, because they are usually given in a connected and intelligible shape, but the perpetual borrowing of isolated lines or couplets from Ovid, often without regard to their appropriateness or their original meaning, often makes the style, of the first book especially, nearly as bad as it can be. I have taken the pains to point out a considerable number of plagiarisms, but it is certain that there must be many instances which have escaped my notice. In his later Latin verse the author is very much less dependent upon others, and the _Cronica Tripertita_, from the nature of the subject, is necessarily original.

Gower’s own style of versification in Latin is somewhat less elegant than that of Alexander Neckam or Peter Riga, but it stands upon much the same level of correctness. If we take into account the fact that the Latin is not classical but medieval, and that certain licences of prosody were regularly admitted by medieval writers of Latin verse, we shall not find the performance very bad. Such licences are, for example, the lengthening of a short syllable at the caesura, the position of final short vowels before ‘st,’ ‘sp,’ ‘sc’ at the beginning of the succeeding word, and the use of polysyllabic words, or of two dissyllables, at the end of the hexameter, so that lines such as these are not to be taken as irregular:

‘Omnis et inde gradus a presule sanctificatus;’ ‘Quo minor est culpa, si cadat inde rea;’ ‘Et quia preuisa sic vota facit, puto culpa;’ ‘Si bene conseruet ordinis ipse statum.’

In any case it is certain that Gower expressed himself in Latin with great facility and with tolerable correctness. He may have imitated the style of Ovid ‘studiosius quam felicius,’ as Leland observes, but the comparison with other Latin verse-writers of his time sets his performance in a fairly favourable light.

VOX CLAMANTIS. ANALYSIS.

PROLOGUS LIBRI PRIMI.

From the records of the past we derive examples; and though credit be not commonly given to dreams, yet the writers of past time instruct us otherwise. Daniel and Joseph were taught by visions, and a man’s guardian angel often warns him in his sleep. Hence, as it seems to me, my dreams should be recorded as signs of the times; and what my vision was and at what time it came, ye may learn from this book.

If ye desire to know the writer’s name, add to _John_ the beginning of _Godfrey_, the first letter of _Wales_ and the word _ter_ without its head. But give no praise to the author, for I write not with a view to fame. I shall write of strange things which my country has experienced, and as my matter is woful, so also shall be my song. My pen is wet with tears, and both my heart and my hand tremble; nor am I sufficient to write all the troubles that belong to the time. I ask for indulgence rather than praise: my will is good, though my powers fall short. I pray that while I sing of those true visions which disturb my heart with terror, he whose name I bear, to whom visions were revealed in Patmos, may control my work.

LIBER PRIMUS.

CAP. I. It was in the fourth year of king Richard, when the month was June: the moon had set and the morning-star had risen, when from the West a strange light sprang, the dawn came from the region of the setting sun and brought forth the day. The sun shone and all the earth was bright; Phebus went forth in his glorious car, attended by the four Seasons, Summer being nearest to him then and honoured by all creatures. The meadows were bright with flowers and the flocks sported in the fields, a perfect paradise of flowers and fruits was there, with the songs of multitudinous birds. Such was the day on which I wandered forth for my pleasure.

All things have an end, and at length that calm day had completed its appointed hours; evening came and I lay down to rest. The night came on, dark and gloomy as the day had been bright, and sleep did not visit my eyes. My hair stood on end, my flesh and my heart trembled and my senses were disturbed like water. I reflected what the cause might be of my sudden terror, and my mind wandered by various paths. The night went on, yet no sleep came, and terror of a coming evil oppressed me. Thus I spent the hours of darkness, not knowing what was approaching, seeing the past and fearing for the future; but at length, towards dawn, sleep came upon my weary eyes, and I began to dream.

CAP. II. Methought I went out upon a Tuesday to gather flowers, and I saw people in bands going abroad over the fields. Suddenly the curse of God fell like lightning upon them, and they were changed into the forms of beasts, various bands into various forms.

One band was changed into asses rebellious against the halter and the burden, careering over the fields and demanding to be as horses; and these had also horns in the middle of their foreheads, which were stained with blood; they were swift as leopards in their leap, and had tails like that of a lion, yet the stolid asinine mind was in them still. I stood in terror and could advance no further.

CAP. III. With them came oxen, who refused any longer to be subject to the yoke and who would no longer eat straw. These too were in monstrous shape with feet like those of a bear and with the tails of dragons; they breathed forth fire and smoke like the bulls of Colchos. They devastated the fields and slew men: the plough, the rake and the mattock lay idle. ‘Ah me!’ I said, ‘the cultivation of the fields will cease and famine will come upon us.’

CAP. IV. A third band I saw transformed into swine, furious and possessed by the devil. They followed one another, hog and hogling, boar and little pig, the sow and her companion, and there was no swine-herd to keep them away from the corn-fields. They wandered where they would, and the pig ravaged like a wolf.

One boar there was, whom Kent produced, such as the whole earth might not match. Flame came from his mouth and eyes, his tusks were like those of an elephant; foam mixed with human blood flowed over his flanks. He strikes down all those whom he meets and none can prevail against him: no place except heaven is safe from his rage. From the North comes another boar to meet him and to plan destruction.

These boars were greater and more furious than that of Tegea or that which Meleager hunted. They are not content with acorns for their food or water for their drink; they devour rich food in the city and drink good wine, so that they lie in drunkenness as dead. They despise the pig-stye and defile kings’ palaces with their filth: their grunting is like the roaring of a lion.

CAP. V. A fourth band was turned into dogs, who are not content with the food from their master’s table, but range in search of better, who do not hunt hares or stags, but bark at the heels of men. Here are Cut and Cur from their wretched kennels, the sheep-dog and the watch-dog, the baker’s, the butcher’s, and the miller’s dog. The one-eyed is there and the three-legged dog limps behind barking. These cannot be soothed by stroking, but bare their teeth in anger against you. They tear all whom they meet, and the more they devour the less they are satisfied. Cerberus in hell hears their howl, and breaking away from his chains he joins himself to their company and becomes their leader. More savage were these than the hounds which tore Acteon or the beast which Diana sent to destroy the Athenians. All trembled before them.

CAP. VI. Another band took the form of foxes and cats. They ran about and searched every cavern and every hiding-place, and made their way into secret chambers. There was venom in their bite. The caves of the wood send forth the foxes, who rob by day without fear, and have a treaty of peace with the dogs. The cats leave the barns and cease to catch mice, and these do damage more than ever did the mice of Ekron.

CAP. VII. A sixth took the form of domestic fowls, but they claimed to be birds of prey. The cock had the beak and claws of a falcon, and the goose soared up to the heaven. Suddenly the cock becomes a carrion-crow and the goose a kite, and they prey upon the carcasses of men. The cock crows horribly and the hen follows him and moves him to evil. The goose which formerly frightened only children with its hissing, now terrifies grown men and threatens to tear them to pieces.

Owls join themselves to these and do by day the deeds of darkness, sharpening their feathers with iron, in order that they may slay men.

CAP. VIII. The dream continued, and I saw another band in the form of flies and of frogs. These were like those that plagued Egypt: the frogs came into houses and shed their poison everywhere; the flies pursued with their stings all those of gentle blood, and nothing could keep them out. Their prince Belzebub was the leader of the host. The heat of the summer produced them suddenly in swarms: the fly was more rapacious than the hawk and prouder than the peacock; he contended with the lark, the crane and the eagle in flight.

This was a day on which horses were overcome by asses, and lions by oxen, a day in which the dog was stronger than the bear and the cat than the leopard, a day in which the weak confounded the strong, a day in which slaves were raised on high and nobles brought to the ground, a day in which the terror of God’s wrath came upon all, such a day as no chronicle records in time past. May such a day never come again in our age!

CAP. IX. When all this multitude was gathered together like the sand of the sea, one, a Jay skilled in speech, took the first place among them and addressed them thus: ‘O wretched slaves, now comes the day in which the peasant shall drive out the lord; let honour, law and virtue perish, and let our court rule.’ They listen and approve, and though they know not what ‘our court’ means, what he says has for them the force of law: if he says ‘strike,’ they strike, if he says ‘kill,’ they kill. Their sound was as the sound of the sea, and from terror I could scarcely move my feet. They strike a mutual compact and declare that all those of gentle blood who remain in the world shall be overthrown.

Then they advance all together; a dark cloud mingled with the furies of hell rains down evil into their hearts; the earth is wetted with the dew of the pit, so that no virtue can grow, but every vice increases. Satan is loose and among them, the princes of Erebus draw the world after them, and the more I gaze, the more I am terrified, not knowing what the end will be.

CAP. X. Furious rage there was, they were greedy for slaughter like hungry wolves. The seven races derived from Cain were added to them. The prophets spoke of them, Gog and Magog is their name, they neither fear man nor worship God. Moreover those companions of Ulysses, whom Circe transformed, are associated with them: some have the heads of men and others of brute beasts.

CAP. XI. There is Wat, Tom and Sim, Bet and Gib followed by Hick; Coll, Geff and Will, Grigge, Dawe, Hobbe and Lorkin, Hudd, Judd, Tebb and Jack, such are their names;[68] and Ball teaches them as a prophet, himself having been taught by the devil.

Some bray like asses, others bellow like bulls, they grunt, they bark, they howl, the geese cackle, the wasps buzz; the earth is terrified with their sound and trembles at the name of the Jay.

CAP. XII. They appoint heralds and leaders, and they order that all who do not favour them shall suffer death. They are armed with stakes and poles, old bows and arrows, rusty sickles, mattocks and forks; some have only clods and stones and branches of trees. They wet the earth with the blood of their betters.

CAP. XIII. These come in their fury to the city of new Troy, which opens its gates to them, and they surge in and invade the streets and houses. It was Thursday, the festival of Corpus Christi, when this fury attacked the city on all sides; they burnt the houses and slew the citizens. The Savoy burns, and the house of the Baptist falls to ruin in the flames. They rob and carry away the spoil, and that day is closed with drunkenness everywhere.