other "brother." Yet there are words in their dialogue, not suited to
these pages, which could properly only be used by women. As in at least
one of the carvings the sinners are women, if my hypothesis has any
correctness there must be some other form of the story in which the
detractors are female. It is to be noted, also, that the play from which I
have quoted has no mention of the devil.
[Illustration: A BACKBITER, ST. KATHERINE'S.]
Years before I met with the play of the trial of Joseph and Mary, I
considered that the sin of the Two might be scandal, and put down a
curious carving adjoining the St. Katherine group as a reference to it,
and suggested it might be a humorous rendering of a Backbiter. This is
shewn in the accompanying block. It was therefore agreeable to find one
of the Mystery detractors actually named Backbiter. Against that it may be
mentioned that the composite figure with a head at the rear is not unique.
At Rothwell, Northamptonshire, is a dragon attempt, rude though probably
of late fifteenth century work, with a similar head in the same anatomical
direction; this is not connected with anything that can be considered
bearing upon the subject of the Mystery, unless the heads on the same
misericorde are meant to be those of Jews.
The example at Ely shews the fiend closely embracing the two sinners who
are evidently in the height of an impressive conversation. One figure has
a book on its knee, the other is telling the beads of a rosary. At the
sides are two imps of a somewhat Robin Goodfellow-like character, each
bearing a scroll with the account of the misdeeds of the sinners, and
which we may presume are the warrants by which Satan is entitled to seize
his prey. He is the picture of jovial good-nature.
[Illustration: A BACKBITER, ROTHWELL, NORTHANTS.]
New College, Oxford, has a misericorde of the subject in which the
figures, female in appearance, are seated in a sort of box. This reminds
us of Baldini and Boticelli's picture of Hell, which is divided into
various ovens for different vices. That may be the idea here, or perhaps
the object is a coffin and is used to emphasize what the wages of sin
are. They, like the two sinners of Ely, are in animated conversation.
Satan here is of a bull-headed form with wings rather like those of a
butterfly. These are of the end of the fifteenth century.
[Illustration: THE UNSEEN WITNESS, NEW COLLEGE, OXFORD.]
There are foreign carvings described by Mr. Evans as being of the devil
taking notes of the idle words of two women during mass. This is, perhaps,
the simple meaning of all this series, and an evidence of the resentment
of ecclesiastics against the irreverent. There is considerable evidence
that religious service was scarcely a solemn thing in mediaeval times. If
this is the signification the box arrangement described above may be some
sort of early pew.
The next example, from St. Katherine's (lately) by the Tower, has the
fiend in a fashionable slashed suit. The ladies here are only in bust, and
though of demurely interested expression they have not that rapport and
animation which distinguish the two previously noticed. Satan does not
embrace them, but stands behind with legs outstretched and hands, or
rather claws, on knees, ready to clutch them at the proper moment.
[Illustration: THE UNSEEN WITNESS, ST. KATHERINE'S.]
At Gayton, Northants, is a further curious instance of this group. The two
Sinners are in this case unquestionably males, and, but for the
coincidence with the preceding examples, the men might have been supposed
to have been engaged in some game of chance. It will be observed that the
one to the right has a rosary as in the first-named carving. Satan here
is well clothed in feathers, and in his left wing is the head of what is
probably one of the instruments of torture awaiting the very much
overshadowed victims. It is a kind of rake or flesh-hook, with three
sharp, hooked teeth; perhaps a figure of the tongue of a slanderer,
materialized for his own subsequent scarification; it may be added as a
kind of satanic badge. Satan bears on his right arm a leaf-shaped shield.
[Illustration: THE UNSEEN WITNESS, GAYTON, NORTHANTS.]
The vice next to be regarded is Avarice. In a misericorde at Beverley
Minster we have three scenes from the history of the Devil. One gives us
the avaricious man bending before his coffers. He has taken out a coin; if
we read aright his contemplative and affectionate look, it is gold.
Hidden behind the chest behold Satan, one of whose bullock horns is
visible as he lurks out of the miser's sight, grinning to think how surely
the victim is his.
At the opposite end of the carving is the other extreme, Gluttony. A man
is drinking out of a huge flask, which he holds in his right hand, while
in the other he grasps a ham (or is it not impossible that this is a
second bottle). In this the devil is likewise present; he is apparently
desperately anxious the victim should have enough.
[Illustration: THE DEVIL AND THE MISER, BEVERLEY MINSTER.]
[Illustration: SATAN AND A SOUL, BEVERLEY MINSTER.]
Between these two reliefs appears Satan seizing a naked soul. In the
original all that remains of the Devil's head is the outline and one
horn; of the soul's head there remains only the outline; the two faces I
have ventured to supply, also the fore-arm of the Devil. The fiend is here
again presented with the attributes of a bullock, rather than a goat.
Satan has had placed on his abdomen a mask or face, a somewhat common
method of adding to the startling effect of his boisterous personality.
The fine rush which the fiend is making upon the soul, and the shrinking
horror of the latter, are exceedingly well rendered. The moral is, we may
suppose, that the sinners on either side will come to the same bad end.
[Illustration: THE DEVIL AND THE GLUTTON, BEVERLEY MINSTER.]
Among the seat-carvings of Henry VII's. Chapel, Westminster Abbey, we have
the vice of Avarice more fully treated, there being two carvings devoted
to the subject. In the first we see a monk suddenly seized by a quaint and
curious devil (to whom I have supplied his right fore-arm). The monk,
horror-stricken, yet angry, has dropped his bag of sovereigns, or nobles,
and the coins fall out. He would escape if he could, but the claws of the
fiend have him fast.
[Illustration: DISMAY, WESTMINSTER.]
In the companion carving we have the incident--and the monk--carried a
little further. The devil has picked him up, thrown him down along his
conveniently horizontal back, and strides on with him through a wild place
of rocks and trees, holding what appears to be a flaming torch, which he
also uses as a staff. The monk has managed to gather up his dearly-loved
bag of money, and is frantically clutching at the rocks as he is swiftly
borne along. Satan in the first carving has rather a benevolent human
face, in the second a debased beast face, unknown to natural history.
There is no explanation of how Sathanus has disposed in the second scene
of the graceful dragon wings he wears in the first. It is probable that
two of the Italians who carved this set each took the same subject, and we
have here their respective renderings. I mention with diffidence that if
the mild and timorous face of Bishop Alcock (which may be seen at Jesus
College, Cambridge), the architect of this part of the abbey, could be
supposed to have unfortunately borne at any time the expressions upon
either of these two representations of the monk, the likeness would, in my
opinion, be rather striking.
[Illustration: THE OVERTAKING OF AVARICE, WESTMINSTER.]
[Illustration: THE TAKING OF THE AVARICIOUS, WESTMINSTER.]
[Illustration: DEMONIACAL DRUMMER, WESTMINSTER.]
On the side carving of the carrying-away scene is shewn a woman, dismayed
at the sight. On the opposite side a fiend is welcoming the monk with beat
of drum, just as we shall see the ale-wife saluted with the drone of the
bagpipes.
[Illustration: VANITY, ST. MARY'S MINSTER.]
A carving at St. Mary's Minster, Isle of Thanet, has the devil looking out
with a vexed frown from between the horns of a lofty head-dress, which is
on a lady's head. Whether this be a rendering of the dishonest ale-wife,
or a separate warning against the vice of Vanity, cannot well be decided.
There was a popular opinion at one time that the bulk of church carvings
were jokes at the expense of clergy, probably largely because every hood
was thought to be a cowl. There is, however, no doubt as to the carving
here presented. It may represent the consecration of a bishop. The
presence of Satan dominating both the individuals, and pulling forward the
cowl of the seated figure, appears to declare that this is to illustrate
the vice of Hypocrisy. It is at New College, Oxford.
[Illustration: HYPOCRISY, NEW COLLEGE, OXFORD.]
Ale and the Ale-wife.
[Illustration: THE JOLLY TAPSTER, LUDLOW.]
Ale, good old ale, has formed the burden of more songs and satires ancient
and modern, than will ever be brought together. Ale was the staple
beverage for morning, noon, and evening meals. It is probable that swollen
as is the beer portion of the Budget, the consumption of ale, man for man,
is much less than that of any mediaeval time. The records of all the
authoritative bodies who dealt with the liquor traffic of the olden time
are crowded with rules and regulations that plainly demonstrate not only
the universal prevalence of beer drinking in a proper and domestic degree,
but also the constant growing abuse of the sale of the liquor. In the
reign of Elizabeth the evils of the tavern had become so notorious, that
in some places women were forbidden to keep ale-houses.
As far back as A.D. 794, ale-houses had become an institution, for we find
the orders passed at the Council of Frankfort in that year included one by
which ecclesiastics and monks were forbidden to drink in an ale-house. St.
Adrian was the patron of brewers.
In some boroughs (Hull may be given as an instance) in the fifteenth
century, the Mayor was not allowed to keep a tavern in his year of office.
Brewers and tavern keepers, with many nice distinctions of grade among
them, were duly licensed and supervised, various penalties meeting
attempts at illicit trade. The quality of ale was also an object of
solicitude, and an official, called the ale-taster, was in nearly every
centre of population made responsible for the due strength and purity of
the national beverage. It was customary in some places in the fifteenth
century for the ale-taster to be remunerated by a payment of 4d. a year
from each brewer.
It has to be remembered ale was drunk at the meals at which we now use
tea, coffee, and cocoa; it will be interesting to glance at an instance of
the rate at which it was consumed. At the Hospital of St. Cross, founded
in 1132, at Winchester, thirteen "impotent" men had each a daily allowance
of a gallon and a half of good small beer, with more on holidays; this was
afterwards reduced to three quarts with some two quarts extra for
holidays. The porter at the gate had only three quarts to give away to
beggars. There was great idea of continuity at this establishment; even in
1836 there was spent L133 5s. for malt and hops for the year's brewing.
The happy thirteen had each yet three quarts every day as well as a jack
(say four gallons) extra among them on holidays, with 4s. for beer money.
Two gallons of beer were also daily dispensed at the gate at the rate of a
horn of not quite half a pint to each applicant.
[Illustration: LETTICE LITTLETRUST AND A SIMPLE SIMON. WELLINGBOROUGH,
_14th century_.]
Ale, no more than other things, could be kept out of church. A carving at
Wellingborough, Northamptonshire, shews us an interview between a would-be
customer on the one part and an ale-wife on the other part. There is, in a
list of imaginary names in an epilogue or "gagging" summons to a miracle
play, mention of one Letyce Lytyltrust, whom surely we see above.
Evidently the man is better known than trusted, and while a generous
supply of the desired refreshment is "on reserve" in a dear old jug, some
intimation has been made that cash is required; he, like one Simon on a
similar occasion, has not a penny, and with one hand dipped into his
empty pocket, he scratches his head with the other. His good-natured
perplexity contrasts well with the indifferent tradeswoman-like air of the
ale-wife, who while she rests the jug upon a bench, does not relinquish
the handle. He is saying to himself, "Nay, marry, an I wanted a cup o' ale
aforetime I was ever served. A thirsty morn is this. I know not what to
say to t' jade;" while she is muttering, "An he wipe off the chalk ahint
the door even, he might drink and welcome, sorry rogue tho' he be. But no
use to cry pay when t' barrel be empty."
At Edgeware in 1558, an innkeeper, was fined for selling a pint and a half
of ale at an exorbitant price, namely, one penny. A quart was everywhere
the proper quantity, and that of the strongest; small ale sold at one
penny for two quarts. With regard to the then higher value of money,
however, the prices may be considered to be about the same as at present,
and the same may be said of many commodities which appear in records at
low figures.
Of an earlier date is the tapster of the initial block, from Ludlow, who
furnishes a comfortable idea of a congenial, and to judge from his pouch,
a profitable occupation. It is to be presumed the smallness of the barrel
as compared with that of the jug--probably of copper, and dazzlingly
bright--was the artist's means of getting its full outline within the
picture, and not an indication of the relations of supply and demand.
Alas for the final fate of the dishonest woman who could cheat men in the
important matter of ale! At Ludlow we are shewn such a one, stripped of
all but the head dress and necklace of her vanity, and carried
ignominiously and indecorously to Hell's Mouth on the shoulders of a
stalwart demon (whose head is supplied in the block). In her hand, and
partaking of her own reverse, she bears the hooped tankard with which she
defrauded her customers. It is the measure of her woe. The demon thus
loaded with mischief is met by another, armed with the bagpipes. With
hilarious air and fiendish grin he welcomes the latest addition to the
collection of evil-doers within. To the right are the usual gaping jaws of
Hell's Mouth, into which are disappearing two nude females, who, we may
suppose, are other ale-wifes not more meritorious than the lady of the
horned head dress. To the left is the Recording Imp.
[Illustration: THE END OF THE ALE-WIFE, LUDLOW.]
[Illustration: THE FEMALE DRAWER, ALL SOULS, OXFORD.]
There is allusion in a copy of the Chester Mystery of Christ's Descent
into Hell, among the Harleian MSS., to an ale-wife of Chester, which
doubtless suggested this carving. This lady, a little-trust and a cheater
in her day, laments having to dwell among the fiends; she endeavours to
propitiate one of them by addressing him as "My Sweet Master Sir
Sattanas," who returns the compliment by calling her his "dear darling."
She announces that:--
"Some tyme I was a tavernere,
A gentill gossipe and a tapstere,
Of wyne and ale a trustie brewer,
Which wo hath me wroughte.
Of cannes I kepte no trewe measuer
My cuppes I soulde at my pleasuer,
Deceaving manye a creature,
Tho' my ale were naughte."
The Devil then delivers a short speech, which is one of the earliest
temperance addresses on record. He says:--
"Welckome, dere ladye, I shall thee wedd,
For many a heavye and droncken head
Cause of thy ale were broughte to bed
Farre worse than anye beaste."
There is an old saying "pull Devil, pull Baker" connected with the
representation of a baker who sold his bread short of weight, and was
carried to the lower regions in his own basket; the ale-wife, of our
carving, however, does not appear to have retained any power of
resistance, however slight or ineffectual.
[Illustration: A HORN OF ALE, ELY.]
At All Souls, Oxford, there is a good carving of a woman drawing ale. It
is not, apparently, the ale-wife herself, but the maid sent down into the
cellar. The maid, perhaps after a good draught of the brew, seems to be
blowing a whistle to convey, to the probably listening ears of her
mistress upstairs, the impression that the jug has not received any
improper attention from her. The artful expression of the ale-loving maid
lends countenance to the conjecture that the precaution has not been
entirely efficacious. It is to this day a jocular expression in
Oxfordshire, and perhaps elsewhere, "You had better whistle while you are
drawing that beer."
A carving at Ely represents Pan as an appreciative imbiber from a
veritable horn of ale.
Satires without Satan.
[Illustration: THE SLUMBERING PRIEST, NEW COLLEGE, OXFORD.]
There are numbers of grotesques which are satires evidently aimed at sins,
but which have not the visible attendance of the evil one himself.
Among these must be included a curious carving from Swine, in Holderness.
The priory of Swine was a Cistercian nunnery of fifteen sisters and a
prioress. Mr. Thomas Blashill states, "There were, however, two canons at
least, to assist in the offices of religion, who did not refrain from
meddling in secular affairs."[5] There was also a small community of
lay-brethren.
The female in the centre of the carving is a nun; her hood is drawn partly
over her face, so that only one eye is fully visible, but with the other
eye she is executing a well-known movement of but momentary duration. The
two ugly animals between which she peers are intended for hares, a symbol
of libidinousness, as well as of timidity.
Another carving in the same chancel may be in derision of some official of
the papal court, which, in the thirteenth century, on an occasion of the
contumacy of the nuns in refusing to pay certain tithes, caused the
church, with that adjoining, of the lay brethren, to be closed. The nuns
defied all authority, broke open the chapels, and in general during the
long contest acted in a curiously ungovernable, irresponsible manner.
[Illustration: A PAPAL MONSTER, SWINE, YORKSHIRE.]
At Bishop's Stortford, Hertfordshire, are some misericordes, which, says
Miss Phipson, are stated to have originally belonged to Old St. Paul's.
Among them is the annexed subject. The wicked expression of the face, and
the general incorrectness of the composition, are a historical evidence of
indecorum akin to the gestures of the Beverley carvers.
[Illustration: IMPUDENCE, BISHOP'S STORTFORD, HERTFORDSHIRE.]
From the fine choir carvings of Westminster Abbey yet another example is
given. It is one in which the spirit of the old _Comptes a Plaisance_ is
well illustrated. A well-clad man, suggesting Falstaff in his prime, is
seated with a lady among luxurious foliage. His arm is right round his
companion's waist, while his left hand dips into his capacious and
apparently well-lined pouch, or gipciere. He has been styled a merchant.
He is manifestly making a bargain. The lady is evidently a daughter of the
hireling (_hirudo!_), and is crying, "Give, give." In spite of this being
the work of an Italian artist, the artistic feeling about it would seem to
recall slightly the lines of Holbein.
[Illustration: THE WINKING NUN, SWINE, YORKSHIRE.]
[Illustration: A QUESTION OF PRICE, WESTMINSTER ABBEY.]
The small carving to the right of the above is a highly-elate pig, playing
the pipe. This is shewn in a short chapter hereafter given on Animal
Musicians. The initial at the head of this chapter is illustrated with the
"slumbering priest," the carving of whom is at the right of that of the
'Unseen Witness,' drawn on page 85. This doubtless implies that some
portion of the sin of the people was to be attributed to the indifference
of the clergy. Balancing this, there is in the original carving an aged
person kneeling, and, supported by a crutch, counting her beads.
In a subsequent chapter (on Compound Forms in Gothic) the harpy is
mentioned, and shewn to be a not uncommon subject of church art, either as
from the malignant classic form which symbolized fierce bad weather, or as
the more beneficient though not unsimilar figure which was the symbol of
Athor, the Egyptian Venus. A Winchester example which might seem in place
among the remarks on the Compounds, is included here, as it is evidently
intended to embody a sin. It serves to show that a modern use of the word
harpy was well understood in mediaeval times. The design is simple, the
vulture wings being made to take the position of the hair of the woman
head. She lies in wait spider-wise, her great claws in readiness for the
prey; and is evidently a character-sketch of a coarse, insatiable daughter
of the horse-leech.
[Illustration: THE HARPY IN WAIT, WINCHESTER.]
Scriptural Illustrations.
[Illustration: ADAM AND EVE, BEVERLEY MINSTER.]
Mystery Plays, we have seen, drew upon the Apocryphal New Testament for
subjects, but it has simply happened that the examples of vice carvings
illustrate those writings, for Mystery Plays were in general founded upon
the canonical scriptures. There are many carvings which have Biblical
incidents for their subject, but it is often impossible to say whether the
text were the sole material of the designer, or whether his ideas were
formed by representations he had seen on the Mystery stage. It may be
presumed that the effect would not be greatly different in one case from
the other.
The story of Jonah furnishes a subject for two misericordes in Ripon
Cathedral. One is in the frontispiece of this volume. In the first the
prophet is being pushed by three men unceremoniously over the side of the
vessel which has the usual mediaeval characteristics, and, in which,
plainly, there is no room for a fourth person. The ship is riding easily
on by no means tumultuous waves, out of which protrudes the head of the
great fish. The fish and Jonah appear to regard the situation with equal
complacency.
In the sequel carving Jonah is shewn being cast out by the fish, of
which, as in the other, the head only is visible. The monster of the deep
has altered its appearance slightly during the period of Jonah's
incarceration, its square upper teeth having become pointed. The prophet
is represented kneeling among the teeth, apparently offering up thanks for
his deliverance. The sea is bounded by a rocky shore on which stand trees
of the well-known grotesque type in which they are excellent fir-cones.
[Illustration: THE STORY OF JONAH. THE CASTING OUT.]
These two carvings are of somewhat special interest, as their precise
origin is known. They are both exceedingly close copies of engravings in
the Biblia Pauperum, or Poor Man's Bible, otherwise called "Speculum
Humanae Salvationis," or the Mirror of Human Salvation. Other Biblical
subjects in the Ripon Series of Misericordes are from the same source. Did
the Sculptor or Sculptors of the series fall short of subjects, or were
their eyes caught by the definite outlines of the prints in the "Picture
Bible" as it lay chained in the Minster?
The Adoration, in a carving in the choir of Worcester, comes under the
head of unintentional grotesques. It is a proof that though the
manipulative skill of the artist may be great, that may only accentuate
his failure to grasp the true spirit of a subject; and render what might
have been only a piece of simplicity, into an elaborate grotesque. The
common-place, ugly features--where not broken away--the repeated attitudes
and the symmetric arrangement join to defeat the artist's aim. Add to
those the anachronisms, the ancient Eastern rulers in Edward III. crowns
and gowns, seated beneath late Gothic Decorated Arches offering gifts,
and the absurdity is nearly complete. It is difficult to quite understand
the presence of the lady with gnarled features, on the left, bearing the
swathed infant (headless) which seems to demonstrate that this was carved
by a foreigner, or was from a foreign source; for though swathing was
practised to some extent in England, I can only find that in Holland,
Germany, etc., and more especially in Italy, the children were swathed to
this extent, in the complete mummy fashion styled "bambino."