Part 3

Of our Worthy's numerous Writings I have made out a careful enumeration, inasmuch as the usual bibliographical authorities (as Lowndes and Hazlitt) are exceedingly empty; but I must utilise it elsewhere, seeing that such a catalogue of (for the most part) violent invective against Popery were incongruous in an edition of the Poetry of his so opposite-minded son. These three out of our collection will show that Popery was the supreme object of his aversion; and even the full title-pages give but a poor idea of the out-o'-way learning--for he was a scholar among scholars--the grave wit, the sarcasm, the shrewd sense, and, alas, the uncharity of these and kindred sermons and books. The first is this, but from a later edition, for a reason that will appear: 'Loyola's Disloyalty; or the Iesvites' open Rebellion against God and His Church. Whose Doctrine is Blasphemie, in the highest degree, against the blood of Christ, which they Vilifie, and under-valew, that they might uphold their Merits. By Consequent, encouraging all Traytors to kill their lawfull Kings and Princes. With divers other Principles and Heads of their damnable and erronious Doctrine. Worthy to be written and read in these our doubtfull and dangerous times. 1643' (4to). This was originally issued as 'The Iesvites' Gospell' (1610), and in 1621 and 1641 as 'The Bespotted Jesuit.' Be it specially noted that Crashaw himself must not be made responsible for the after title-pages.[13] Next is this: 'The Parable of Poyson. In Five Sermons of Spirituall Poyson, &c. Wherein the poysonfull Nature of Sinne, and the Spirituall Antidotes against it, are plainely and brefely set downe. Begun before the Prince his Highnesse. Proceeded in at Greye's Inne and the Temple, and finished at St. Martin's in the fields. By William Crashaw, Batcheler of Diuinity, and Preacher of God's word. 1618' (4to). The Epistle-dedicatory is dated from Agnes Burton, Yorkshire. 'The ioyfull 5 of Nouember, the day neuer to be forgotten.' The third is this: 'The New Man, or a Svpplication from an vnknowne Person, a Roman Catholike, vnto Iames, the Monarch of Great Brittaine, and from him to the Emperour, Kings, and Princes of the Christian World. Touching the causes and reasons that will argue a necessity of a Generall Councell to be fortwith assembled against him that now vsurps the Papall Chaire vnder the name of Paul the fifth. Wherein are discouered more of the secret Iniquities of that Chaire and Court, then hitherto their friends feared, or their very aduersaries did suspect. Translated into English by William Crashaw, Batchelour in Diuinity, according to the Latine Copy, sent from Rome into England. 1622' (4to). Other of these controversial tractates, or 'Flytings' (Scotice), are more commonly known, and need not detailed notice from us. That the 'ruling passion' was 'strong' to the end, appears by the already repeatedly named Will, the opening of which has been given, and which thus continues: 'For my religion, I professe myself in lief and deathe a Christian, and the crosse of Jesus Christ is my glorye, and His sufferings my salvation. I renounce and abhorre Atheisme, Iudaisme, Turcisme, and all heresies against the Holy and Catholike faithe, oulde and newe, and (namelye) Poperie, beinge as nowe it is established by the canons of Trent and theyr present allowed decrees and doctors, lyke a confused body of all heresies.' And again: 'I accounte Poperie (as it nowe is) the heape and chaos of all heresies, and the channell whereunto the fowlest impieties and heresies that have bene in the Christian worlde have runne and closelye emptied themselves. I beleeve the Pope's seate and power to be the power of the greate Antichrist, and the doctrine of the Pope (as nowe it is) to be the doctrine of Antichrist; yea, that doctrine of devills prophesied of by the Apostles, and that the trve and absolute Papist, livinge and dyeinge, debarres himself of salvation for oughte that we knowe. And I beleve that I am bounde to separate myself from that sinagogue of Rome if I wil be saved. And I professe myselfe a member of the true Catholike Churche, but not of the Roman Churche (as nowe it is), and to looke for salvation, not by that faith nor doctrine which that Churche nowe teacheth, but that which once it had, but now falne from it.' And then follow 'groundes' in burning and 'hard' words, intermingled with strange outbursts of personal humiliation before God and an awful sense of His scrutiny.

These Title-pages and Will-extracts must suffice to indicate the Ultra-Protestantism of the elder Crashaw. To qualify them--in addition to our note of the intensified after title-pages _by others_--it must be remembered that the Armada of 1588 flung its scaring shadow across his young days, and that undoubtedly the descendants of Loyola falsified their venerable Founder's intentions by political agitations and plottings. These coloured our ecclesiastical polemique's whole ways of looking at things. His Will and codicil are dated in 1621-2, and during these years and succeeding, his most fiery and intense 'Sermons' and tractates were being published. Richard was then growing up into his teens, and without his 'second' mother. As Crashaw senior died in 1626--his Will having been 'proved' 16th October in that year--our Poet-saint was only about 13-14 when he lost his father, scarcely ten when appointed by him executor, the words being: 'I ordaine and make Mr. Robert Dixon and _my sonne Richarde_ executors of my Will' (10th June 1622).[14]

His Epistles-dedicatory and private Letters (several of which are preserved in the British Museum, and of which I have copies--one very long to Sir Julius Caesar on his brother's illness) and his Will, make it plain that our Worthy mingled in the highest society, and was consulted in the most delicate affairs. His dedication of one of his most pronounced books, 'Consilium quorundam Episcop. Bononiae &c.' (1613), to Shakespeare's Earl of Southampton, _as to a trusted friend_, settles, to my mind, the (disputed) fact as to the Earl having become a Protestant. So too the translation of Augustine's 'City of God' (1620, 2d edition) is dedicated to William Earl of Pembroke, the Earl of Arundel, and the Earl of Montgomery.

The last matter to be touched on is the Verse of the paternal Crashaw, which has a unique character of its own. It consists of translations from the Latin. His 'Loyola's Disloyalty' is based on a rendering of a Latin poem in super-exaltation of the Virgin Mary by Clarus Bonarscius (= Carolus Scribanius); and Crashaw animadverts on such 'pointes' as these: 'That the milke of Mary may come into comparison with the blood of Christ;' 'that the Christian man's faith may lawfully take hold of both as well as one;' 'that the best compound for a sicke soule is to mix together her milke and Christ's blood;' 'that Christ is still a little child in His mother's armes, and so may be prayed unto;' 'that a man shall often-times be sooner heard at God's hand in the mediation of Mary than Jesus Christ;' and so on. I give the opening, middle, and closing lines.

TO OUR LADY OF HALL AND THE CHILD JESUS.

'My thoughts are at a stand, of milke and blood, Delights of brest and side, which yeelds most good; And say, when on the teates mine eyes I cast, O Lady, of thy brest I beg a taste. But if mine eyes upon the wounds doe glide, Then, Jesu, I had rather sucke Thy side. Long have I mused, now knowe I where to rest; For with my right hand I will graspe the brest, If so I may presume: as for the wounds, With left He catch them; thus my zeale abounds.'

Again:

'Mother and Son, give eare to what I crave, I beg this milke, that bloud, and both would have. Youngling, that in Thy mother's armes art playing, Sucking her brest sometimes, and sometimes staying, Why dost Thou view me with that looke of scorne? 'Tis forceless envie that 'gainst Thee is borne. Oft hast Thou said, being angry at my sinne, Darest thou desire the teates My food lyes in? I will not, oh I dare not, golden Child; My mind from feare is not so farre exild: But one, even one poore drop I doe implore From Thy right hand or side, I ask no more. If neither, from Thy left hand let one fall; Nay from Thy foot, rather than none at all: If I displease Thee, let Thy wounds me wound, But pay my wage if I in grace be found.'

Finally:

'But ah, I thirst; ah, droght my breath doth smother, Quench me with blood, sweet Son; with milk, good mother Say to Thy mother, See My brother's thirst; Mother, your milke will ease him at the first. Say to thy Son, Behold Thy brother's bands; Sweet Son, Thou hast his ransome in Thy hands. Shew Thy redeeming power to soules opprest, Thou Sonne, if that Thy blood excel the rest. And shew Thyselfe justly so stilde indeed, Thou mother, if thy brests the rest exceed. Ah, when shall I with these be satisfi'd? When shall I swimme in joyes of brest and side? Pardon, O God, mine eager earnestnesse, If I Thy lawes and reason's bounds transgresse; Where thirst o're-swayes, patience is thrust away: Stay but my thirst, and then my cryes will stay. I am better then Thy nailes; yet did a streame Of Thy deere bloud wash both the lance and them. More worthy I then clouts; yet them a flood Moistened of mother's milke and of Son's blood.'

Rhythm, epithet, and the whole ring of these Verses remind us of the younger Crashaw. But the most remarkable Verse-production of the elder Crashaw is his translation of the 'Querela, sive Dialogvs Animae et Corporis damnati,' ascribed to St. Bernard. It originally appeared in 1616, and has been repeatedly reprinted since. Those of 1622 and 1632 are now before me, and the English title-page runs: 'The Complaint, or Dialogve betwixt the Soule and the Bodie of a damned man. Each laying the fault vpon the other. Supposed to be written by S. Bernard, from a nightly vision of his; and now published out of an ancient manuscript copie. By William Crashaw.' The Dialogue thus opens:

'In silence of a Winter's night, A sleeping yet a walking spirit; A livelesse body to my sight Methought appeared, thus addight.

In that my sleepe I did descry A Soule departed but lately From that foule body which lay by; Wailing with sighes, and loud did cry.

Fast by the body, thus she mones And questions it, with sighes and grones; O wretched flesh, thus low who makes thee lye, Whom yesterday the world had seene so high?

Was't not but yesterday the world was thine, And all the countrey stood at thy devotion? Thy traine that followed thee when thy sunne did shine Have now forsaken thee: O dolefull alteration!

Those turrets gay of costly masonry, And larger palaces, are not now thy roome; But in a coffin of small quantity Thou lyest interred in a little tombe. . . . . . O wretched flesh, with me that art forlorne, If thou couldst know how sharpe our punishment; How justly mightest thou wish not to be borne, Or from the wombe to tombe to have been hent! . . . . . How lik'st thou now, poor foole, thy latter lodging, The roofe whereof lyes even with thy nose? Thy eyes are shut, thy tongue cannot be cogging; Nothing of profit rests at thy dispose. . . . . . Thy garments, wretched fool, are farre from rich; Thy upper garment hardly worth a scute; A little linnen shrouds thee in thy ditch, No rents nor gifts men bring, nor make their suite.'

Again, st. 79-81:

'If I be clad in rich array, And well attended every day, Both wise and good I shal be thoght, My kinred also shall be sought. I am, say men, the case is cleere, Your cosen, sir, a kinsman neere. But if the world doe change and frowne, Our kinred is no longer knowne; Nor I remembred any more By them that honoured me before. O vanity! vile love of mucke, Foule poyson, wherefore hast thou stucke Thyselfe so deepe, to raise so high Things vanishing so suddenly?'

In a 'Manvall for true Catholicks, or a Handfvll, or rather a Heartfull of holy Meditations and Prayers, gathered out of certaine ancient Manuscripts, written 300 yeeres agoe, or more,' which is usually bound up with the 'Querela,' there is no little striking thought and word-painting, combined with a parsimony of epithet, and a naked and yet imaginative echo of the monkish Latin, singularly impressive. Passing the 'Orthodoxall Confessions of God the Father' and 'Sonne' and 'Holy Ghost,' though all have many memorable things--I would close our specimens with one complete poem from the 'Manvall.' It is entitled 'The Conclusion, with a devout and holy prayer;' the word 'prayer' reminding us that in his Prayers herein and in his 'Milke for Babes' (1618, and several later), Crashaw is lowly and devout, and simply a sinner holding the Christian's hope. The remark applies also to much of his celebration of 'Carraciolo,' the Italian convert and 'Second Moses' (1608).

'This is Christian faith unfained, Orthodoxall, true, unstained. As I teach, all understand, Yeelding unto neither hand. And in this my soule's defence, Reiect me not for mine offence: Thogh Death's slave, yet desperation I fly in death to seek salvation. I have no meane Thy love to gain, But this faith which I maintaine. This Thou seest, nor will I cease By this to beg for a release. Let this sacred salve be bound Vpon my sores, to make them sound. Though man be carried forth, and lying In his grave, and putrifying: Bound and hid from mortall eyes; Yet if Thou bid, he must arise. At Thy will the grave will open, At Thy will his bonds are broken. And forth he comes without delay, If Thou but once bid, Come away! In this sea of dread and doubt My poore barke is tost about; With storms and pirats far and wide, Death and woes on every side. Come, thou Steer's-man ever blest, Calme these winds that me molest; Chase these ruthlesse pyrats hence, And show me some safe residence. My tree is fruitles, dry, and dead, All the boughs are withered; Downe it must, and to the fire, If desert have his due hire. But spare it, Lord, another yeare. With manuring it [yet] may beare. If it then be dead and dry, Burne it; alas, what remedy! Mine old foe assaults me sore With fire and water, more and more. Poore I, of all my strength bereft, Onely unto Thee am left. That my foe may hence be chased, And I from Ruin's clawes released, Lord, vouchsafe me every day Strength to fast, and faith to pray: These two meanes Thyself hast taught To bring temptation's force to noght. Lord, free my soule from sin's infection By repentance's direction. Be Thy feare in me abiding, My soule to true salvation guiding. Grant me faith, Lord, hope, and love, Zeale of heaven and things above. Teach mee prize the world at nought; On Thy blisse be all my thought. All my hopes on Thee I found, In Whom all good things abound. Thou art all my dignitie: All I have I have from Thee. Thou art my comfort in distresse, Thou art my cure in heavinesse; Thou art my music in my sadnes, Thou art my medicine in my madnesse. Thou my freedom from my thral, Thou my raiser from my fall. In my labour Thou reliev'st me; Thou reform'st whatever grieves me. Al my wrongs Thy hand revengeth, And from hurt my soul defendeth. Thou my deepest doubts revealest, Thou my secret faults concealest. O do Thou stay my feet from treading In paths to hel and horror leading, Where eternal torment dwels, With fears and tears and lothsome smels; Where man's deepest shame is sounded, And the guilty still confounded; Where the scourge for ever beateth, And the worme that alwaies eateth; Where all those endless do remain, Lord, preserve us from this paine. In Sion lodge me, Lord, for pitty-- Sion, David's kingly citty, Built by Him that's onely good; Whose gates be of the Crosse's wood; Whose keys are Christ's undoubted word; Whose dwellers feare none but the Lord; Whose wals are stone, strong, quicke and bright; Whose Keeper is the Lord of Light: Here the light doth never cease, Endlesse Spring and endles peace; Here is musicke, heaven filling, Sweetnesse evermore distilling; Here is neither spot nor taint, No defect, nor no complaint; No man crooked, great nor small, But to Christ conformed all. Blessed towne, divinely graced, On a rocke so strongly placed, Thee I see, and thee I long for; Thee I seek, and thee I grone for. O what ioy thy dwellers tast, All in pleasure first and last! What full enioying blisse divine, What iewels on thy wals do shine! Ruby, iacinth, chalcedon, Knowne to them within alone. In this glorious company, In the streets of Sion, I With Iob, Moses, and Eliah, Will sing the heauenly Alleviah. Amen.

Surely this is a very noteworthy transfusion of old Latin pieties into vivid English. 'Visions' of Jerusalem the Golden transfigure even the austere words towards the close. One can picture Master Richard's eyes kindling over his Father's verses when he was gone.

So endeth what I have thought it needful to tell of the elder Crashaw. As hitherto almost nothing has been told of him, even our compressed little Memorial--keeping back many things and notices that have gathered in our note-books--may be welcome to some. I pass now to

II. A STUDY OF THE LIFE AND POETRY OF RICHARD CRASHAW.

The outward facts of our 'sweet Singer's' story are given with comparative fulness in our Memorial-Introduction (vol. i. pp. xxvii.-xxxviii.). In the present brief Essay we wish to look into some of these, so as to arrive at a true estimate of them and of the Poetry, now fully (and for the first time) collected.

I think I shall be able to say what has struck myself as worth saying about Crashaw, under these three things:

I. His change from Protestantism to Roman Catholicism, using the terms as historic words, not polemically.

II. His friends and associates, as celebrated in his Writings.

III. His characteristics and place as a Poet. These successively.

I. _His change from Protestantism to Roman Catholicism._ From our Memoir of his Father it will be apparent to all that _he_ was a Protestant of Protestants; and it is an inevitable assumption that his son from infancy would be indoctrinated with all vigilance and fervour in the paternal creed, which may be designated Puritan, as opposed to Laudian High-Churchism within the Church of England.[15] I think we shall not err either, in concluding that the younger Crashaw had a very impressionable and plastic nature; so that the strong and self-assertive character of his Father could not fail to mould his earliest thinking, opinions, beliefs, and emotion. Still it will not do to pronounce our Poet's change to have been a revolt and rebound from the narrowness of the paternal teaching and writing, seeing that his Father died in 1626, when he was only passing into his 13-14th year.[16] It is palpable that the elder Crashaw was spared the distress of the apostacy (as he should most trenchantly have named it) of his only son. Moreover, the very notable poems from the Tanner MSS. on the _Gunpowder Treason_ (vol. i. pp. 188-194) are pronounced and intense in their denunciations of (to quote from them) that 'vnmated malice,' that 'vnpeer'd despight' and 'very quintessence of villanie,' for 'singing' of which he feels he must have not 'inke' but 'the blood of Cerberus, or Alecto's viperous brood,' and demonstrate that he carried with him to, and kept in, Cambridge all his father's wrath, and more than even his father's vocabulary of vituperation, with too his own after-epithets, instinct with poetic feeling, as a thoughtful reading reveals. These poems belong to 1631-3. Even in the Latin Epigrams of 1634 there is (to say the least) a 'slighting' allusion to the Pope in the 'Umbra S. Petri,' being 'Nunc quoque, Papa, tuum sustinet illa decus' (see Epigram xix. p. 47). That volume, also, is dedicated in the most glowing words of affection and indebtedness to Dr. Benjamin Lany (vol. ii. pp. 7-15), afterwards, as we shall find onward, a distinguished bishop in the Church of England. And he was a man after the elder Crashaw's own heart, as we shall now have revealed in a little overlooked poem addressed to Crashaw senior, which is appended to the 'Manvall for True Catholicks' (as before). Here it is; and let the Reader ponder its anti-papal sentiment:

A CONCLUSION TO THE AUTHOR AND HIS BOOKE.

Tradition and antiquitie, the ground Whereon that erring Church doth so relye, Breakes out to light, from darknesse, to confound The novel doctrine of their heresie, Which plaine by these most sensible degrees Doth point the wayes it hath digrest to fall; Where each observing iudgement plainely sees, From good to bad, from bad to worst of all It is arriv'd: so that it can aspire, Obscure, deface, suppresse, doe what it may, To blinde this truth; to no step any higher By any policie it can essay. These holy Hymnes stuft with religious zeale And meditations of most pious use, Able their whole to wound, our wounded heale: Free from impiety, or least abuse, Blot out all merit in ourselves we have, And onely, solely, doe on Christ relye: Offer not prayers for those are in the grave, Nor unto saints, that heare not, doe not cry. Then in a word, since God hath thee preserv'd From the Inquisitors' most cruel rage, Though in their worth they else might have deserv'd To passe among the good things of this Age, Yet are in this respect of more regard, Since God would have them to these times appeare, So many having perisht; and be heard With more true zeale, that God hath kept so deare. By all which I conclude, from thine owne heart, Thou wicked servant, that might know and would not, He hath discharg'd himselfe in all and part, That would have cur'd your Babel, but hee could not.

B.L.