chapter I
have spoken of a class of satirical literature which was entirely popular in its character. Not that on this account it was original among the peoples who composed mediæval society, for the intellectual development of the middle ages came almost all from Rome through one medium or other, although we know so little of the details of the popular literature of the Romans that we cannot always trace it. The mediæval literature of western Europe was mostly modelled upon that of France, which was received, like its language, from Rome. But when the great university system became established, towards the end of the eleventh century, the scholars of western Europe became more directly acquainted with the models of literature which antiquity had left them; and during the twelfth century these found imitators so skilful that some of them almost deceive us into accepting them for classical writers themselves. Among the first of these models to attract the attention of mediæval scholars, were the Roman satirists, and the study of them produced, during the twelfth century, a number of satirical writers in Latin prose and verse, who are remarkable not only for their boldness and poignancy, but for the elegance of their style. I may mention among those of English birth, John of Salisbury, Walter Mapes, and Giraldus Cambrensis, who all wrote in prose, and Nigellus Wireker, already mentioned in a former chapter, and John de Hauteville, who wrote in verse. The first of these, in his "Polycraticus," Walter Mapes, in his book "De Nugis Curialium," and Giraldus, in his "Speculum Ecclesiæ," and several other of his writings, lay the lash on the corruptions and vices of their contemporaries with no tender hand. The two most remarkable English satirists of the twelfth century were John de Hauteville and Nigellus Wireker. The former wrote, in the year 1184, a poem in nine books of Latin hexameters, entitled, after the name of its hero, "Architrenius," or the Arch-mourner. Architrenius is represented as a youth, arrived at years of maturity, who sorrows over the spectacle of human vices and weaknesses, until he resolves to go on a pilgrimage to Dame Nature, in order to expostulate with her for having made him feeble to resist the temptations of the world, and to entreat her assistance. On his way, he arrives successively at the court of Venus and at the abode of Gluttony, which give him the occasion to dwell at considerable length on the license and luxury which prevailed among his contemporaries. He next reaches Paris, and visits the famous mediæval university, and his satire on the manners of the students and the fruitlessness of their studies, forms a remarkable and interesting picture of the age. The pilgrim next arrives at the Mount of Ambition, tempting by its beauty and by the stately palace with which it was crowned, and here we are presented with a satire on the manners and corruptions of the court. Near to this was the Hill of Presumption, which was inhabited by ecclesiastics of all classes, great scholastic doctors and professors, monks, and the like. It is a satire on the manners of the clergy. As Architrenius turns from this painful spectacle, he encounters a gigantic and hideous monster named Cupidity, is led into a series of reflections upon the greediness and avarice of the prelates, from which he is roused by the uproar caused by a fierce combat between the prodigals and the misers. He is subsequently carried to the island of far-distant Thule, which he finds to be the resting-place of the philosophers of ancient Greece, and he listens to their declamations against the vices of mankind. After this visit, Architrenius reaches the end of his pilgrimage. He finds Nature in the form of a beautiful woman, dwelling with a host of attendants in the midst of a flowery plain, and meats with a courteous reception, but she begins by giving him a long lecture on natural philosophy. After this is concluded, Dame Nature listens to his complaints, and, to console him, gives him a handsome woman, named Moderation, for a wife, and dismisses him with a chapter of good counsels on the duties of married life. The general moral intended to be inculcated appears to be that the retirement of domestic happiness is to be preferred to the vain and heartless turmoils of active life in all its phases. It will be seen that the kind of allegory which subsequently produced the "Pilgrim's Progress," had already made its appearance in mediæval literature.
Another of the celebrated satirists of the scholastic ages was named Alanus de Insulis, or Alan of Lille, because he is understood to have been born at Lille in Flanders. He occupied the chair of theology for many years in the university of Paris with great distinction, and his learning was so extensive that he gained the name of _doctor universalis_, the universal doctor. In one of his books, which is an imitation of that favourite book in the middle ages "Boethius de Consolatione Philosophiæ," Dame Nature, in the place of Philosophy--not, as in John de Hauteville, as the referee, but as the complainant--is introduced bitterly lamenting over the deep depravity of the thirteenth century, especially displayed in the prevalence of vices of a revolting character. This work, which, like Boethius, consists of alternate chapters in verse and prose, is entitled "De Planctu Naturæ," the lamentation of nature. I will not, however, go on here to give a list of the graver satirical writers, but we will proceed to another class of satirists which sprang up among the mediæval scholars, more remarkable and more peculiar in their character--I mean peculiar to the middle ages.
The satires of the time show us that the students in the universities in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, who enjoyed a great amount of independence from authority, were generally wild and riotous, and, among the vast number of youths who then devoted themselves to a scholastic life, we can have no doubt that the habit of dissipation became permanent. Among these wild students there existed, probably, far more wit and satirical talent than among their steadier and more laborious brethren, and this wit, and the manner in which it was displayed, made its possessors welcome guests at the luxurious tables of the higher and richer clergy, at which Latin seems to have been the language in ordinary use. In all probability it was from this circumstance (in allusion to the Latin word _gula_, as intimating their love of the table) that these merry scholars, who displayed in Latin some of the accomplishments which the jougleurs professed in the vulgar tongue, took or received the name of _goliards_ (in the Latin of that time, _goliardi_, or _goliardenses_).[42] The name at least appears to have been adopted towards the end of the twelfth century. In the year 1229, during the minority of Louis IX., and while the government of France was in the hands of the queen-mother, troubles arose in the university of Paris through the intrigues of the papal legate, and the turbulence of the scholars led to their dispersion and to the temporary closing of the schools; and the contemporary historian, Matthew Paris, tells us how "some of the servants of the departing scholars, or those whom we used to call goliardenses," composed an indecent epigram on the rumoured familiarities between the legate and the queen. But this is not the first mention of the goliards, for a statute of the council of Treves, in 1227, forbade "all priests to permit truants, or other wandering scholars, or goliards, to sing verses or _Sanctus_ and _Angelus Dei_ in the service of the mass."[43] This probably refers to parodies on the religious service, such as those of which I shall soon have to speak. From this time the goliards are frequently mentioned. In ecclesiastical statutes published in the year 1289, it is ordered that the clerks or clergy (_clerici_, that is, men who had their education in the university) "should not be jougleurs, goliards, or buffoons;"[44] and the same statute proclaims a heavy penalty against those _clerici_ "who persist in the practice of goliardy or stage performance during a year,"[45] which shows that they exercised more of the functions of the jougleur than the mere singing of songs.
[42] In the mediæval Latin, the word _goliardia_ was introduced to express the profession of the goliard, and the verb _goliardizare_, to signify the practice of it.
[43] "Item, præcipimus ut omnes sacerdotes non permittant trutannos et alios vagos scholares, aut goliardos, cantare versus super _Sanctus_ et _Angelus Dei_ in missis," etc.--Concil. Trevir., an. 1227, ap. Marten. et Durand. Ampliss. Coll., vii. col. 117.
[44] "Item, præcipimus quod clerici non sint joculatores, goliardi, seu bufones."--Stat. Synod. Caduacensis, Ruthenensis, et Tutelensis Eccles. ap. Martene, Thes. Anecd., iv. col. 727.
[45] "Clerici ... si in goliardia vel histrionatu per annum fuerint."--Ib. col. 729. In one of the editions of this statute it is added, "after they have been warned three times."
These vagabond clerks made for themselves an imaginary chieftain, or president of their order, to whom they gave the name of Golias, probably as a pun on the name of the giant who combated against David, and, to show further their defiance of the existing church government, they made him a bishop--_Golias episcopus_. Bishop Golias was the burlesque representative of the clerical order, the general satirist, the reformer of eclesiastical and all other corruptions. If he was not a doctor of divinity, he was a master of arts, for he is spoken of as _Magister Golias_. But above all he was the father of the Goliards, the "ribald clerks," as they are called, who all belonged to his household,[46] and they are spoken of as his children.
_Summa salus omnium, filius Mariæ, Pascat, potat, vestiat pueros Golyæ!_[47]
"May the Saviour of all, the Son of Mary, give food, drink, and clothes to the children of Golias!" Still the name was clothed in so much mystery, that Giraldus Cambrensis, who flourished towards the latter end of the twelfth century, believed Golias to be a real personage, and his contemporary. It may be added that Golias not only boasts of the dignity of bishop, but he appears sometimes under the title of _archipoeta_, the archpoet or poet-in-chief.
[46] "Clerici ribaldi, maxime qui vulgo dicuntur _de famila Goliæ_."--Concil. Sen. ap. Concil., tom. ix. p. 578.
[47] See my "Poems of Walter Mapes," p. 70.
Cæsarius of Heisterbach, who completed his book of the miracles of his time in the year 1222, tells us a curious anecdote of the character of the wandering clerk. In the year before he wrote, he tells us, "It happened at Bonn, in the diocese of Cologne, that a certain wandering clerk, named Nicholas, of the class they call archpoet, was grievously ill, and when he supposed that he was dying, he obtained from our abbot, through his own pleading, and the intercession of the canons of the same church, admission into the order. What more? He put on the tunic, as it appeared to us, with much contrition, but, when the danger was past, he took it off immediately, and, throwing it down with derision, took to flight." We learn best the character of the goliards from their own poetry, a considerable quantity of which is preserved. They wandered about from mansion to mansion, probably from monastery to monastery, just like the jougleurs, but they seem to have been especially welcome at the tables of the prelates of the church, and, like the jougleurs, besides being well feasted, they received gifts of clothing and other articles. In few instances only were they otherwise than welcome, as described in the rhyming epigram printed in my "Latin Poems attributed to Walter Mapes." "I come uninvited," says the goliard to the bishop, "ready for dinner; such is my fate, never to dine invited." The bishop replies, "I care not for vagabonds, who wander among the fields, and cottages, and villages; such guests are not for my table. I do not invite you, for I avoid such as you; yet without my will you may eat the bread you ask. Wash, wipe, sit, dine, drink, wipe, and depart."
Goliardus. _Non invitatus venio prandere paratus; Sic sum fatatus, nunquam prandere vocatus._
Episcopus. _Non ego curo vagos, qui rura, mapalia, pagos Perlustrant, tales non vult mea mensa sodales. Te non invito, tibi consimiles ego vito; Me tamen invito potieris pane petito. Ablue, terge, sede, prande, bibe, terge, recede._
In another similar epigram, the goliard complains of the bishop who had given him as his reward nothing but an old worn-out mantle. Most of the writers of the goliardic poetry complain of their poverty, and some of them admit that this poverty arose from the tavern and the love of gambling. One of them alleges as his claim to the liberality of his host, that, as he was a scholar, he had not learnt to labour, that his parents were knights, but he had no taste for fighting, and that, in a word, he preferred poetry to any occupation. Another speaks still more to the point, and complains that he is in danger of being obliged to sell his clothes. "If this garment of vair which I wear," he says, "be sold for money, it will be a great disgrace to me; I would rather suffer a long fast. A bishop, who is the most generous of all generous men, gave me this cloak, and will have for it heaven, a greater reward than St. Martin has, who only gave half of his cloak. It is needful now that the poet's want be relieved by your liberality [addressing his hearers]; let noble men give noble gifts--gold, and robes, and the like."
_Si vendatur propter denarium Indumentum quod porto varium, Grande mihi fiet opprobrium; Malo diu pati jejunium. Largissimus largorum omnium Prœsul dedit mihi hoc pallium, Majus habens in cælis præmium Quam Martinus, qui dedit medium. Nunc est opus ut vestra copia Sublevetur vatis inopia; Dent nobiles dona nobilia,-- Aurum, vestes, et his similia._
There has been some difference of opinion as to the country to which this poetry more especially belongs. Giraldus Cambrensis, writing at the end of the twelfth or the beginning of the thirteenth century, evidently thought that Golias was an Englishman; and at a later date the goliardic poetry was almost all ascribed to Giraldus's contemporary and friend, the celebrated humourist, Walter Mapes. This was, no doubt, an error. Jacob Grimm seemed inclined to claim them for Germany; but Grimm, on this occasion, certainly took a narrow view of the question. We shall probably be more correct in saying that they belonged in common to all the countries over which university learning extended; that in whatever country a particular poem of this class was composed, it became the property of the whole body of these scholastic jougleurs, and that it was thus carried from one land to another, receiving sometimes alterations or additions to adapt it to each. Several of these poems are found in manuscripts written in different countries with such alterations and additions, as, for instance, that in the well-known "Confession," in the English copies of which we have, near the conclusion, the line--
_Præsul Coventrensium, parce confitenti;_
an appeal to the bishop of Coventry, which is changed, in a copy in a German manuscript, to
_Electe Coloniæ, parce pœnitenti,_
"O elect of Cologne, spare me penitent." From a comparison of what remains of this poetry in manuscripts written in different countries, it appears probable that the names Golias and goliard originated in the university of Paris, but were more especially popular in England, while the term _archipoeta_ was more commonly used in Germany.
In 1841 I collected all the goliardic poetry which I could then find in English manuscripts, and edited it, under the name of Walter Mapes, as one of the publications of the Camden Society.[48] At a rather later date I gave a chapter of additional matter of the same description in my "Anecdota Literaria."[49] All the poems I have printed in these two volumes are found in manuscripts written in England, and some of them are certainly the compositions of English writers. They are distinguished by remarkable facility and ease in versification and rhyme, and by great pungency of satire. The latter is directed especially against the clerical order, and none are spared, from the pope at the summit of the scale down to the lowest of the clergy. In the "Apocalypsis Goliæ," or Golias's Revelations, which appears to have been the most popular of all these poems,[50] the poet describes himself as carried up in a vision to heaven, where the vices and disorders of the various classes of the popish clergy are successively revealed to him. The pope is a devouring lion; in his eagerness for pounds, he pawns books; at the sight of a mark of money, he treats Mark the Evangelist with disdain; while he sails aloft, money alone is his anchoring-place. The original lines will serve as a specimen of the style of these curious compositions, and of the love of punning which was so characteristic of the literature of that age:--
_Est leo pontifex summus, qui devorat, Qui libras sitiens, libros impignorat; Marcam respiciet, Marcum dedecorat; In summis navigans, in nummis anchorat._
[48] The Latin Poems commonly attributed to Walter Mapes, collected and edited by Thomas Wright, Esq., 4to., London, 1841.
[49] "Anecdota Literaria; a Collection of Short Poems in English, Latin, and French, illustrative of the Literature and History of England in the Thirteenth Century." Edited by Thomas Wright, Esq. 8vo., London, 1844.
[50] In my edition I have collated no less than sixteen copies which occur among the MSS. in the British Museum, and in the libraries at Oxford and Cambridge, and there are, no doubt, many more.
The bishop is in haste to intrude himself into other people's pastures, and fills himself with other people's goods. The ravenous archdeacon is compared to an eagle, because he has sharp eyes to see his prey afar off, and is swift to seize upon it. The dean is represented by an animal with a man's face, full of silent guile, who covers fraud with the form of justice, and by the show of simplicity would make others believe him to be pious. In this spirit the faults of the clergy, of all degrees, are minutely criticised through between four and five hundred lines; and it must not be forgotten that it was the English clergy whose character was thus exposed.
_Tu scribes etiam, forma sed alia, Septem ecclesiis quæ sunt in Anglia._
Others of these pieces are termed Sermons, and are addressed, some to the bishops and dignitaries of the church, others to the pope, others to the monastic orders, and others to the clergy in general. The court of Rome, we are told, was infamous for its greediness; there all right and justice were put up for sale, and no favour could be had without money. In this court money occupies everybody's thoughts; its cross--i. e. the mark on the reverse of the coin--its roundness, and its whiteness, all please the Romans; where money speaks law is silent.
_Nummis in hac curia non est qui non vacet; Crux placet, rotunditas, et albedo placet, Et cum totum placeat, et Romanis placet, Ubi nummus loquitur, et lex omnis tacet._
Perhaps one of the most curious of these poems is the "Confession of Golias," in which the poet is made to satirise himself, and he thus gives us a curious picture of the goliard's life. He complains that he is made of light material, which is moved by every wind; that he wanders about irregularly, like the ship on the sea or the bird in the air, seeking worthless companions like himself. He is a slave to the charms of the fair sex. He is a martyr to gambling, which often turns him out naked to the cold, but he is warmed inwardly by the inspiration of his mind, and he writes better poetry than ever. Lechery and gambling are two of his vices, and the third is drinking. "The tavern," he says, "I never despised, nor shall I ever despise it, until I see the holy angels coming to sing the eternal requiem over my corpse. It is my design to die in the tavern; let wine be placed to my mouth when I am expiring, that when the choirs of angels come, they may say, 'Be God propitious to this drinker!' The lamp of the soul is lighted with cups; the heart steeped in nectar flies up to heaven; and the wine in the tavern has for me a better flavour than that which the bishop's butler mixes with water.... Nature gives to every one his peculiar gift: I never could write fasting; a boy could beat me in composition when I am hungry; I hate thirst and fasting as much as death."
_Tertio capitulo memoro tabernam: Illam nullo tempore sprevi, neque spernam, Donec sanctos angelos venientes cernam, Cantantes pro mortuo requiem æternam._
_Meum est propositum in taberna mori; Vindum sit appositum morientis ori, Ut dicant cum venerint angelorum chori, 'Deus sit propitius huic potatori!'_
_Poculis accenditur animi lucerna; Cor imbutum nectare volat ad superna: Mihi sapit dulcius vinum in taberna, Quam quod aqua miscuit præsulis pincerna._
_Unicuique proprium dat natura munus: Ego nunquam potui scribere jejunus; Me jejunum vincere posset puer unus; Sitim et jejunium odi tanquam funus._[51]
Another of the more popular of these goliardic poems was the advice of Golias against marriage, a gross satire upon the female sex. Contrary to what we might perhaps expect from their being written in Latin, many of these metrical satires are directed against the vices of the laity, as well as against those of the clergy.
[51] Poems attributed to Walter Mapes, p. 73. The stanzas here quoted, with some others, were afterwards made up into a drinking song, which was rather popular in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries.
In 1844 the celebrated German scholar, Jacob Grimm, published in the "Transactions of the Academy of Sciences at Berlin" a selection of goliardic verses from manuscripts in Germany, which had evidently been written by Germans, and some of them containing allusions to German affairs in the thirteenth century.[52] They present the same form of verse and the same style of satire as those found in England, but the name of Golias is exchanged for _archipoeta_, the archpoet. Some of the stanzas of the "Confession of Golias" are found in a poem in which the archpoet addresses a petition to the archchancellor for assistance in his distress, and confesses his partiality for wine. A copy of the Confession itself is also found in this German collection, under the title of the "Poet's Confession."
[52] "Gedichte des Mittelalters auf König Friedrich I. den Staufar, und aus seiner so wie der nächstfolgenden Zeit," 4to. Separate copies of this work were printed off and distributed among mediæval scholars.
The Royal Library at Munich contains a very important manuscript of this goliardic Latin poetry, written in the thirteenth century. It belonged originally to one of the great Benedictine abbeys in Bavaria, where it appears to have been very carefully preserved, but still with an apparent consciousness that it was not exactly a book for a religious brotherhood, which led the monks to omit it in the catalogue of their library, no doubt as a book the possession of which was not to be proclaimed publicly. When written, it was evidently intended to be a careful selection of the poetry of this class then current. One part of it consists of poetry of a more serious character, such as hymns, moral poems, and especially satirical pieces. In this class there are more than one piece which are also found in the manuscripts written in England. A very large portion of the collection consists of love songs, which, although evidently treasured by the Benedictine monks, are sometimes licentious in character. A third class consists of drinking and gambling songs (_potatoria et lusoria_). The general character of this poetry is more playful, more ingenious and intricate in its metrical structure, in fact, more lyric than that of the poetry we have been describing; yet it came, in all probability, from the same class of poets--the clerical jougleurs. The touches of sentiment, the descriptions of female beauty, the admiration of nature, are sometimes expressed with remarkable grace. Thus, the green wood sweetly enlivened by the joyous voices of its feathered inhabitants, the shade of its branches, the thorns covered with flowers, which, says the poet, are emblematical of love, which pricks like a thorn and then soothes like a flower, are tastefully described in the following lines:--
_Cantu nemus avium Lascivia canentium Suave delinitur, Fronde redimitur, Vernant spinæ floribus Micantibus, Venerem signantibus Quia spina pungit, flos blanditur._
And the following scrap of the description of a beautiful damsel shows no small command of language and versification--
_Allicit dulcibus Verbis et osculis, Labellulis Castigate tumentibus, Roseo nectareus Odor infusus ori; Pariter eburneus Sedat ordo dentium Par niveo candori._
The whole contents of this manuscript were printed in 1847, in an octavo volume, issued by the Literary Society at Stuttgard.[53] I had already printed some examples of such amatory Latin lyric poetry in 1838, in a volume of "Early Mysteries and Latin Poems;"[54] but this poetry does not belong properly to the subject of the present volume, and I pass on from it.
[53] "Carmina Burana. Lateinische und Deutsche Lieder und Gedichte einer Handschrift des XIII. Jahrhunderts aus Benedictbeurn auf der K. Bibliothek zu München." 8vo. Stuttgart, 1847.
[54] "Early Mysteries and other Latin Poems of the Twelfth and Thirteenth Centuries," edited by Thomas Wright, Esq. 8vo. London, 1838.
The goliards did not always write in verse, for we have some of their prose compositions, and these appear especially in the form of parodies. We trace a great love for parody in the middle ages, which spared not even things the most sacred, and the examples brought forward in the celebrated trial of William Hone, were mild in comparison to some which are found scattered here and there in mediæval manuscripts. In my Poems, attributed to Walter Mapes,[55] I have printed a satire in prose entitled "_Magister Golyas de quodam abbate_" (i.e., Master Golias's account of a certain abbot), which has somewhat the character of a parody upon a saint's legend. The voluptuous life of the superior of a monastic house is here described in a tone of banter which nothing could excel. Several parodies, more direct in their character, are printed in the two volumes of the "Reliquæ Antiquæ."[56] One of these (vol. ii. p. 208) is a complete parody on the service of the mass, which is entitled in the original, "_Missa de Potatoribus_," the Mass of the Drunkard. In this extraordinary composition, even the pater-noster is parodied. A portion of this, with great variations, is found in the German collection of the Carmina Burana, under the title of _Officium Lusorum_, the Office of the Gamblers. In the "Reliquæ Antiquæ" (ii. 58) we have a parody on the Gospel of St. Luke, beginning with the words, _Initium fallacis Evangelii secundum Lupum_, this last word being, of course, a sort of pun upon Lucam. Its subject also is Bacchus, and the scene having been laid in a tavern in Oxford, we have no difficulty in ascribing it to some scholar of that university in the thirteenth century. Among the Carmina Burana we find a similar parody on the Gospel of St. Mark, which has evidently belonged to one of these burlesques on the church service; and as it is less profane than the others, and at the same time pictures the mediæval hatred towards the church of Rome, I will give a translation of it as an example of this singular class of compositions. It is hardly necessary to remind the reader that a mark was a coin of the value of thirteen shillings and fourpence:--
"The beginning of the holy gospel according to Marks of silver. At that time the pope said to the Romans: 'When the son of man shall come to the seat of our majesty, first say, Friend, for what hast thou come? But if he should persevere in knocking without giving you anything, cast him out into utter darkness.' And it came to pass, that a certain poor clerk came to the court of the lord the pope, and cried out, saying, 'Have pity on me at least, you doorkeepers of the pope, for the hand of poverty has touched me. For I am needy and poor, and therefore I seek your assistance in my calamity and misery.' But they hearing this were highly indignant, and said to him: 'Friend, thy poverty be with thee in perdition; get thee backward, Satan, for thou dost not savour of those things which have the savour of money. Verily, verily, I say unto thee, Thou shalt not enter into the joy of thy lord, until thou shalt have given thy last farthing.'
"Then the poor man went away, and sold his cloak and his gown, and all that he had, and gave it to the cardinals, and to the doorkeepers, and to the chamberlains. But they said, 'And what is this among so many?' And they cast him out of the gates, and going out he wept bitterly, and was without consolation. After him there came to the court a certain clerk who was rich, and gross, and fat, and large, and who in a tumult had committed manslaughter. He gave first to the doorkeeper, secondly to the chamberlain, third to the cardinals. But they judged among themselves, that they were to receive more. Then the lord the pope, hearing that the cardinals and officials had received many gifts from the clerk, became sick unto death. But the rich man sent him an electuary of gold and silver, and he was immediately made whole. Then the lord the pope called before him the cardinals and officials, and said to them: 'Brethren, see that no one deceive you with empty words. For I give you an example, that, as I take, so take ye also.'"
[55] Introduction, p. xl.
[56] "Reliquiæ Antiquæ. Scraps from Ancient Manuscripts, illustrating chiefly Early English Literature and the English Language." Edited by Thomas Wright, Esq., and J. O. Halliwell, Esq. 2 vols. 8vo. Vol. i., London, 1841; vol. ii., 1843.
This mediæval love of parody was not unfrequently displayed in a more popular form, and in the language of the people. In the _Reliquæ Antiquæ_ (i. 82) we have a very singular parody in English on the sermons of the Catholic priesthood, a good part of which is so written as to present no consecutive sense, which circumstance itself implies a sneer at the preachers. Thus our burlesque preacher, in the middle of his discourse, proceeds to narrate as follows (I modernise the English):--
"Sirs, what time that God and St. Peter came to Rome, Peter asked Adam a full great doubtful question, and said, 'Adam, Adam, why ate thou the apple unpared?' 'Forsooth,' quod he, 'for I had no wardens (pears) fried.' And Peter saw the fire, and dread him, and stepped into a plum-tree that hanged full of ripe red cherries. And there he saw all the parrots in the sea. There he saw steeds and stockfish pricking 'swose' (?) in the water. There he saw hens and herrings that hunted after harts in hedges. There he saw eels roasting larks. There he saw haddocks were done on the pillory for wrong roasting of May butter; and there he saw how bakers baked butter to grease with old monks' boots. There he saw how the fox preached," &c.
The same volume contains some rather clever parodies on the old English alliterative romances, composed in a similar style of consecutive nonsense. It is a class of parody which we trace to a rather early period, which the French term a _coq-à-l'âne_, and which became fashionable in England in the seventeenth century in the form of songs entitled "Tom-a-Bedlams." M. Jubinal has printed two such poems in French, perhaps of the thirteenth century,[57] and others are found scattered through the old manuscripts. There is generally so much coarseness in them that it is not easy to select a portion for translation, and in fact their point consists in going on through the length of a poem of this kind without imparting a single clear idea. Thus, in the second of those published by Jubinal, we are told how, "The shadow of an egg carried the new year upon the bottom of a pot; two old new combs made a ball to run the trot; when it came to paying the scot, I, who never move myself, cried out, without saying a word, 'Take the feather of an ox, and clothe a wise fool with it.'"--
_Li ombres d'un oef Portoit l'an reneuf Sur la fonz d'un pot; Deus viez pinges neuf Firent un estuef Pour courre le trot; Quant vint au paier l'escot, Je, qui onques ne me muef, M'escriai, si ne dis mot:-- 'Prenés la plume d'un buef, S'en vestez un sage sot.'_--Jubinal, Nouv. Rec., ii. 217.
[57] "Achille Jubinal, Jongleurs et Trouvères." 8vo., Paris, 1835, p. 34; and "Nouveau Recueil de Contes, Dits, Fabliaux," &c. 8vo., Paris, 1842. Vol. ii. p. 208. In the first instance M. Jubinal has given to this little poem the title _Resveries_, in the second, _Fatrasies_.
The spirit of the goliards continued to exist long after the name had been forgotten; and the mass of bitter satire which they had left behind them against the whole papal system, and against the corruptions of the papal church of the middle ages, were a perfect godsend to the reformers of the sixteenth century, who could point to them triumphantly as irresistible evidence in their favour. Such scholars as Flacius Illyricus, eagerly examined the manuscripts which contained this goliardic poetry, and printed it, chiefly as good and effective weapons in the great religious strife which was then convulsing European society. To us, besides their interest as literary compositions, they have also a historical value, for they introduce us to a more intimate acquaintance with the character of the great mental struggle for emancipation from mediæval darkness which extended especially through the thirteenth century, and which was only overcome for a while to begin more strongly and more successfully at a later period. They display to us the gross ignorance, as well as the corruption of manners, of the great mass of the mediæval clergy. Nothing can be more amusing than the satire which some of these pieces throw on the character of monkish Latin. I printed in the "Reliquæ Antiquæ," under the title of "The Abbot of Gloucester's Feast," a complaint supposed to issue from the mouth of one of the common herd of the monks, against the selfishness of their superiors, in which all the rules of Latin grammar are entirely set at defiance. The abbot and prior of Gloucester, with their whole convent, are invited to a feast, and on their arrival, "the abbot," says the complainant, "goes to sit at the top, and the prior next to him, but I stood always in the back place among the low people."
_Abbas ire sede sursum, Et prioris juxta ipsum; Ego semper stavi dorsum inter rascalilia._
The wine was served liberally to the prior and the abbot, but "nothing was give to us poor folks--everything was for the rich."
_Vinum venit sanguinatis Ad prioris et abbatis; Nihil nobis paupertatis, sed ad dives omnia._
When some dissatisfaction was displayed by the poor monks, which the great men treated with contempt, "said the prior to the abbot, 'They have wine enough; will you give all our drink to the poor? What does their poverty regard us? they have little, and that is enough, since they came uninvited to our feast.'"
_Prior dixit ad abbatis, 'Ipsi habent vinum satis; Vultis dare paupertatis noster potus omnia? Quid nos spectat paupertatis? Postquam venit non vocatis ad noster convivia.'_
Thus through several pages this amusing poem goes on to describe the gluttony and drunkenness of the abbot and prior, and the ill-treatment of their inferiors. This composition belongs to the close of the thirteenth century. A song very similar to it in character, but much shorter, is found in a manuscript of the middle of the fifteenth century, and printed with the other contents of this manuscript in a little volume issued by the Percy Society.[58] The writer complains that the abbot and prior drunk good and high-flavoured wine, while nothing but inferior stuff was usually given to the convent; "But," he says, "it is better to go drink good wine at the tavern, where the wines are of the best quality, and money is the butler."
_Bonum vinum cum sapore Bibit abbas cum priore; Sed conventus de pejore semper solet bibere. Bonum vinum in taberna, Ubi vina sunt valarna_ (for Falerna), _Ubi nummus est pincerna, Ibi prodest bibere._
[58] "Songs and Carols, now first printed from a Manuscript of the Fifteenth Century." Edited by Thomas Wright, Esq. 8vo., London, 1847, p. 2.
[Illustration: _No. 111. Caricature upon the Jews at Norwich._]
## Partly out of the earnest, though playful, satire described in this
chapter, arose political satire, and at a later period political caricature. I have before remarked that the period we call the middle ages was not that of political or personal caricature, because it wanted that means of circulating quickly and largely which is necessary for it. Yet, no doubt, men who could draw, did, in the middle ages, sometimes amuse themselves in sketching caricatures, which, in general, have perished, because nobody cared to preserve them; but the fact of the existence of such works is proved by a very curious example, which has been preserved, and which is copied in our cut No. 111. It is a caricature on the Jews of Norwich, which some one of the clerks of the king's courts in the thirteenth century has drawn with a pen, on one of the official rolls of the Pell office, where it has been preserved. Norwich, as it is well known, was one of the principal seats of the Jews in England at this early period, and Isaac of Norwich, the crowned Jew with three faces, who towers over the other figures, was no doubt some personage of great importance among them. Dagon, as a two-headed demon, occupies a tower, which a party of demon knights is attacking. Beneath the figure of Isaac there is a lady, whose name appears to be Avezarden, who has some relation or other with a male figure named Nolle-Mokke, in which another demon, named Colbif, is interfering. As this latter name is written in capital letters, we may perhaps conclude that he is the most important personage in the scene; but, without any knowledge of the circumstances to which it relates, it would be in vain to attempt to explain this curious and rather elaborate caricature.
[Illustration: _No. 112. An Irishman._]
Similar attempts at caricature, though less direct and elaborate, are found in others of our national records. One of these, pointed out to me by an excellent and respected friend, the Rev. Lambert B. Larking, is peculiarly interesting, as well as amusing. It belongs to the Treasury of the Exchequer, and consists of two volumes of vellum called Liber A and Liber B, forming a register of treaties, marriages, and similar documents of the reign of Edward I., which have been very fully used by Rymer. The clerk who was employed in writing it, seems to have been, like many of these official clerks, somewhat of a wag, and he has amused himself by drawing in the margin figures of the inhabitants of the provinces of Edward's crown to which the documents referred. Some of these are evidently designed for caricature. Thus, the figure given in our cut No. 112 was intended to represent an Irishman. One trait, at least, in this caricature is well known from the description given by Giraldus Cambrensis, who speaks with a sort of horror of the formidable axes which the Irish were accustomed to carry about with them. In treating of the manner in which Ireland ought to be governed when it had been entirely reduced to subjection, he recommends that, "in the meantime, they ought not to be allowed in time of peace, on any pretence or in any place, to use that detestable instrument of destruction, which, by an ancient but accursed custom, they constantly carry in their hands instead of a staff." In a chapter of his "Topography of Ireland," Giraldus treats of this "ancient and wicked custom" of always carrying in their hand an axe, instead of a staff, to the danger of all persons who had any relations with them. Another Irishman, from a drawing in the same manuscript, given in our cut No. 113, carries his axe in the same threatening attitude. The costume of these figures answers with sufficient accuracy to the description given by Giraldus Cambrensis. The drawings exhibit more exactly than that writer's description the "small close-fitting hoods, hanging a cubit's length (half-a-yard) below the shoulders," which, he tells us, they were accustomed to wear. This small hood, with the flat cap attached to it, is shown better perhaps in the second figure than in the first. The "breeches and hose of one piece, or hose and breeches joined together," are also exhibited here very distinctly, and appear to be tied over the heel, but the feet are clearly naked, and evidently the use of the "brogues" was not yet general among the Irish of the thirteenth century.
[Illustration: _No. 113. Another Irishman._]
If the Welshman of this period was somewhat more scantily clothed than the Irishman, he had the advantage of him, to judge by this manuscript, in wearing at least one shoe. Our cut No. 114, taken from it, represents a Welshman armed with bow and arrow, whose clothing consists apparently only of a plain tunic and a light mantle. This is quite in accordance with the description by Giraldus Cambrensis, who tells us that in all seasons their dress was the same, and that, however severe the weather, "they defended themselves from the cold only by a thin cloak and tunic." Giraldus says nothing of the practice of the Welsh in wearing but one shoe, yet it is evident that at the time of this record that was their practice, for in another figure of a Welshman, given in our cut No. 115, we see the same peculiarity, and in both cases the shoe is worn on the left foot. Giraldus merely says that the Welshmen in general, when engaged in warfare, "either walked bare-footed, or made use of high shoes, roughly made of untanned leather." He describes them as armed sometimes with bows and arrows, and sometimes with long spears; and accordingly our first example of a Welshman from this manuscript is using the bow, while the second carries the spear, which he apparently rests on the single shoe of his left foot, while he brandishes a sword in his left hand. Both our Welshmen present a singularly grotesque appearance.
[Illustration: _No. 114. A Welsh Archer._]
[Illustration: _No. 115. A Welshman with his Spear._]
[Illustration: _No. 116. A Gascon at his Vine._]
[Illustration: _No. 117. The Wine Manufacturer._]
The Gascon is represented with more peaceful attributes. Gascony was the country of vineyards, from whence we drew our great supply of wines, a very important article of consumption in the middle ages. When the official clerk who wrote this manuscript came to documents relating to Gascony, his thoughts wandered naturally enough to its rich vineyards and the wine they supplied so plentifully, and to which, according to old reports, clerks seldom showed any dislike, and accordingly, in the sketch, which we copy in our cut No. 116, we have a Gascon occupied diligently in pruning his vine-tree. He, at least, wears two shoes, though his clothing is of the lightest description. He is perhaps the _vinitor_ of the mediæval documents on this subject, a serf attached to the vineyard. Our second sketch, cut No. 117, presents a more enlarged scene, and introduces us to the whole process of making wine. First we see a man better clothed, with shoes (or boots) of much superior make, and a hat on his head, carrying away the grapes from the vineyard to the place where another man, with no clothing at all, is treading out the juice in a large vat. This is still in some of the wine countries the common method of extracting the juice from the grape. Further to the left is the large cask in which the juice is put when turned into wine.
Satires on the people of particular localities were not uncommon during the middle ages, because local rivalries and consequent local feuds prevailed everywhere. The records of such feuds were naturally of a temporary character, and perished when the feuds and rivalries themselves ceased to exist, but a few curious satires of this kind have been preserved. A monk of Peterborough, who lived late in the twelfth or early in the thirteenth century, and for some reason or other nourished an unfriendly feeling to the people of Norfolk, gave vent to his hostility in a short Latin poem in what we may call goliardic verse. He begins by abusing the county itself, which, he says, was as bad and unfruitful as its inhabitants were vile; and he suggests that the evil one, when he fled from the anger of the Almighty, had passed through it and left his pollution upon it. Among other anecdotes of the simplicity and folly of the people of this county, which closely resemble the stories of the wise men of Gotham of a later date, he informs us that one day the peasantry of one district were so grieved by the oppressions of their feudal lord, that they subscribed together and bought their freedom, which he secured to them by formal deed, ratified with a ponderous seal. They adjourned to the tavern, and celebrated their deliverance by feasting and drinking until night came on, and then, for want of a candle, they agreed to burn the wax of the seal. Next day their former lord, informed of what had taken place, brought them before a court, where the deed was judged to be void for want of the seal, and they lost all their money, were reduced to their old position of slavery, and treated worse than ever. Other stories, still more ridiculous, are told of these old Norfolkians, but few of them are worth repeating. Another monk, apparently, who calls himself John de St. Omer, took up the cudgels for the people of Norfolk, and replied to the Peterborough satirist in similar language.[59] I have printed in another collection,[60] a satirical poem against the people of a place called Stockton (perhaps Stockton-on-Tees in Durham), by the monk of a monastic house, of which they were serfs. It appeared that they had risen against the tyranny of their lord, but had been unsuccessful in defending their cause in a court of law, and the ecclesiastical satirist exults over their defeat in a very uncharitable tone. There will be found in the "Reliquæ Antiquæ,"[61] a very curious satire in Latin prose directed against the inhabitants of Rochester, although it is in truth aimed against Englishmen in general, and is entitled in the manuscript, which is of the fourteenth century, "Proprietates Anglicorum" (the Peculiarities of Englishmen). In the first place, we are told, that the people of Rochester had tails, and the question is discussed, very scholastically, what species of animals these Rocestrians were. We are then told that the cause of their deformity arose from the insolent manner in which they treated St. Augustine, when he came to preach the Gospel to the heathen English. After visiting many parts of England, the saint came to Rochester, where the people, instead of listening to him, hooted at him through the streets, and, in derision, attached tails of pigs and calves to his vestments, and so turned him out of the city. The vengeance of Heaven came upon them, and all who inhabited the city and the country round it, and their descendants after them, were condemned to bear tails exactly like those of pigs. This story of the tails was not an invention of the author of the satire, but was a popular legend connected with the history of St. Augustine's preaching, though the scene of the legend was laid in Dorsetshire. The writer of this singular composition goes on to describe the people of Rochester as seducers of other people, as men without gratitude, and as traitors. He proceeds to show that Rochester being situated in England, its vices had tainted the whole nation, and he illustrates the baseness of the English character by a number of anecdotes of worse than doubtful authenticity. It is, in fact, a satire on the English composed in France, and leads us into the domains of political satire.
[59] Both these poems are printed in my "Early Mysteries, and other Latin Poems of the Twelfth and Thirteenth Centuries." 8vo., London, 1838.
[60] "Anecdota Literaria," p. 49.
[61] "Reliquæ Antiquæ," vol. ii. p. 230.
Political satire in the middle ages appeared chiefly in the form of poetry and song, and it was especially in England that it flourished, a sure sign that there was in our country a more advanced feeling of popular independence, and greater freedom of speech, than in France or Germany.[62] M. Leroux de Lincy, who undertook to make a collection of this poetry for France, found so little during the mediæval period that came under the character of political, that he was obliged to substitute the word "historical" in the title of his book.[63] Where feudalism was supreme, indeed, the songs which arose out of private or public strife, which then were almost inseparable from society, contained no political sentiment, but consisted chiefly of personal attacks on the opponents of those who employed them. Such are the four short songs written in the time of the revolt of the French during the minority of St. Louis, which commenced in 1226; they are all of a political character which M. Leroux de Lincy has been able to collect previous to the year 1270, and they consist merely of personal taunts against the courtiers by the dissatisfied barons who were out of power. We trace a similar feeling in some of the popular records of our baronial wars of the reign of Henry III., especially in a song, in the baronial language (Anglo-Norman), preserved in a small roll of vellum, which appears to have belonged to the minstrel who chanted it in the halls of the partisans of Simon de Montfort. The fragment which remains consists of stanzas in praise of the leaders of the popular party, and in reproach of their opponents. Thus of Roger de Clifford, one of earl Simon's friends, we are told that "the good Roger de Clifford behaved like a noble baron, and exercised great justice; he suffered none, either small or great, or secretly or openly, to do any wrong."
_Et de Cliffort ly bon Roger Se contint cum noble ber, Si fu de grant justice; Ne suffri pas petit ne grant, Ne arère ne par devant, Fere nul mesprise._
On the other hand, one of Montfort's opponents, the bishop of Hereford, is treated rather contemptuously. We are told that he "learnt well that the earl was strong when he took the matter in hand; before that he (the bishop) was very fierce, and thought to eat up all the English; but now he is reduced to straits."
_Ly eveske de Herefort Sout bien que ly quens fu fort, Kant il prist l'affère; Devant ce esteit mult fer, Les Englais quida touz manger, Mès ore ne set que fere._
This bishop was Peter de Aigueblanche, one of the foreign favourites, who had been intruded into the see of Hereford, to the exclusion of a better man, and had been an oppressor of those who were under his rule. The barons seized him, threw him into prison, and plundered his possessions, and at the time this song was written, he was suffering under the imprisonment which appears to have shortened his life.
[62] I have published from the original manuscripts the mass of the political poetry composed in England during the middle ages in my three volumes--"The Political Songs of England, from the Reign of John to that of Edward II." 4to., London, 1839 (issued by the Camden Society); and "Political Poems and Songs relating to English History, composed during the Period from the Accession of Edward III. to that of Richard III." 8vo., vol i., London, 1859; vol. ii., 1861 (published by the Treasury, under the direction of the Master of the Rolls.)
[63] "Receuil de Chants Historiques Français depuis le xii^e. jusqu'au xviii^e. Siècle, par Leroux de Lincy.... Première Série, xii^e., xiii^e., xiv^e, et xv^e., Siècles." 8vo., Paris, 1841.
The universities and the clerical body in general were deeply involved in these political movements of the thirteenth century; and our earliest political songs now known are composed in Latin, and in that form and style of verse which seems to have been peculiar to the goliards, and which I venture to call goliardic. Such is a song against the three bishops who supported king John in his quarrel with the pope about the presentation to the see of Canterbury, printed in my Political Songs. Such, too, is the song of the Welsh, and one or two others, in the same volume. And such, above all, is that remarkable Latin poem in which a partisan of the barons, immediately after the victory at Lewes, set forth the political tenets of his party, and gave the principles of English liberty nearly the same broad basis on which they stand at the present. It is an evidence of the extent to which these principles were now acknowledged, that in this great baronial struggle our political songs began to be written in the English language, an acknowledgment that they concerned the whole English public.
We trace little of this class of literature during the reign of Edward I.; but, when the popular feelings became turbulent again under the reign of his son and successor, political songs became more abundant, and their satire was directed more even than formerly against measures and principles, and was less an instrument of mere personal abuse. One satirical poem of this period, which I had printed from an imperfect copy in a manuscript at Edinburgh, but of which a more complete copy was subsequently found in a manuscript in the library of St. Peter's College, Cambridge,[64] is extremely curious as being the earliest satire of this kind written in English that we possess. It appears to have been written in the year 1320. The writer of this poem begins by telling us that his object is to explain the cause of the war, ruin, and manslaughter which then prevailed throughout the land, and why the poor were suffering from hunger and want, the cattle perished in the field, and the corn was dear. These he ascribes to the increasing wickedness of all orders of society. To begin with the church, Rome was the head of all corruptions, at the papal court false-hood and treachery only reigned, and the door of the pope's palace was shut against truth. During the twelfth and following centuries these complaints, in terms more or less forcible, against the corruptions of Rome, are continually repeated, and show that the evil must have been one under which everybody felt oppressed. The old charge of Romish simony is repeated in this poem in very strong terms. "The clerk's voice shall be little heard at the court of Rome, were he ever so good, unless he bring silver with him; though he were the holiest man that ever was born, unless he bring gold or silver, all his time and anxiety are lost. Alas! why love they so much that which is perishable?"
_Voys of clerk shall lytyl be heard at the court of Rome, Were he never so gode a clerk, without silver and he come; Though he were the holyst man that ever yet was ibore, But he bryng gold or sylver, al hys while is forlore And his thowght. Allas! whi love thei that so much that schal turne to nowght?_
[64] "A Poem on the Times of Edward III., from a MS. preserved in the Library of St. Peter's College, Cambridge." Edited by the Rev. C. Hardwick. 8vo. London, 1849. (One of the publications of the Percy Society.)
When, on the contrary, a wicked man presented himself at the pope's court, he had only to carry plenty of money thither, and all went well with him. According to our satirist, the bishops were "fools," and the other dignitaries and officials of the church were influenced chiefly by the love of money and self-indulgence. The parson began humbly, when he first obtained his benefice, but no sooner had he gathered money together, than he took "a wenche" to live with him as his wife, and rode a hunting with hawks and hounds like a gentleman. The priests were men with no learning, who preached by rote what they neither understood nor appreciated. "Truely," he says, "it fares by our unlearned priests as by a jay in a cage, who curses himself: he speaks good English, but he knows not what it means. No more does an unlearned priest know his gospel that he reads daily. An unlearned priest, then, is no better than a jay."
_Certes at so hyt fareth by a prest that is lewed, As by a jay in a cage that hymself hath beshrewed: Gode Englysh he speketh, but he not never what. No more wot a lewed prest hys gospel wat he rat By day. Than is a lewed prest no better than a jay._
Abbots and priors were remarkable chiefly for their pride and luxury, and the monks naturally followed their examples. Thus was religion debased everywhere. The character of the physician is treated with equal severity, and his various tricks to obtain money are amusingly described. In this manner the songster presents to view the failings of the various orders of lay society also, the selfishness and oppressive bearing of the knights and aristocracy, and their extravagance in dress and living, the neglect of justice, the ill-management of the wars, the weight of taxation, and all the other evils which then afflicted the state. This poem marks a period in our social history, and led the way to that larger work of the same character, which came about thirty years later, the well-known "Visions of Piers Ploughman,"[65] one of the most remarkable satires, as well as one of the most remarkable poems, in the English language.
We will do no more than glance at the further progress of political satire which had now taken a permanent footing in English literature. We see less of it during the reign of Edward III., the greater part of which was occupied with foreign wars and triumphs, but there appeared towards the close of his reign, a very remarkable satire, which I have printed in my "Political Poems and Songs." It is written in Latin, and consists of a pretended prophecy in verse by an inspired monk named John of Bridlington, with a mock commentary in prose--in fact, a parody on the commentaries in which the scholastics of that age displayed their learning, but in this case the commentary contains a bold though to us rather obscure criticism on the whole policy of Edward's reign. The reign of Richard II. was convulsed by the great struggle for religious reform, by the insurrections of the lower orders, and by the ambition and feuds of the nobles, and produced a vast quantity of political and religious satire, both in prose and verse, but especially the latter. We must not overlook our great poet Chaucer, as one of the powerful satirists of this period. Political song next makes itself heard loudly in the wars of the Roses. It was the last struggle of feudalism in England, and the character of the song had fallen back to its earlier characteristics, in which all patriotic feelings were abandoned to make place for personal hatred.
[65] "The Vision and the Creed of Piers Ploughman;" with Notes and a Glossary by Thomas Wright. 2 vols. 12mo. London, 1842. Second and revised edition, 2 vols. 12mo. London, 1856.
##