Female Manners—Lord Rivers—Popular History—Popular Science—Popular
Fables—Popular Translations—The Canterbury Tales—Statutes—Books
of Chivalry—Caxton's last days.
In the library belonging to the Archbishops of Canterbury, at Lambeth,
is a beautiful manuscript, on vellum, of a French work, 'Les Dicts
Moraux des Philosophes,' which contains the illumination of which the
above is a copy. In lines written under the illumination the book is
stated to be translated by "Antony erle," by which Lord Rivers is meant.
This book was printed by Caxton in 1477; and it is held that the man
kneeling by the side of the earl in the illumination is the printer of
the book. We have already mentioned the confidential intercourse which
subsisted between Lord Rivers and his printer, with regard to the
revision of this work. (See page 82.) The passages which we there quote
are given in a sort of appendix, in which Caxton professes to have
himself translated a chapter upon women, which Lord Rivers did not think
fit to meddle with, and which he prints with a real or affected
apprehension. The printer's statement is altogether such a piece of sly
humour, that we willingly transcribe it, trusting that our readers will
see the drollery through the quaintness:—
"I find that my said lord hath left out certain and divers conclusions
touching women. Whereof I marvelled that my said lord hath not writ on
them, nor what hath moved him so to do, nor what cause he had at that
time. But I suppose that some fair lady hath desired him to leave it out
of his book; or else he was amorous on some noble lady, for whose love
he would not set it in his book; or else for the very affection, love,
and good will that he hath unto all ladies and gentlewomen, he thought
that Socrates spared the sooth, and wrote of women more than truth;
which I cannot think that so true a man and so noble a philosopher as
Socrates was, should write otherwise than truth. For if he had made
fault in writing of women, he ought not nor should not be believed in
his other Dictes and Sayings. But I perceive that my said lord knoweth
verily that such defaults be not had nor found in the women born and
dwelling in these parts nor regions of the world. Socrates was a Greek,
born in a far country from hence, which country is all of other
conditions than this is, and men and women of other nature than they be
here in this country; for I wot well, of whatsoever condition women be
in Greece, the women of this country be right good, wise, pleasant,
humble, discreet, sober, chaste, obedient to their husbands, true,
secret, stedfast, ever busy, and never idle, attemperate in speaking,
and virtuous in all their works; or at least should be so. For which
causes so evident, my said lord, as I suppose, thought it was not of
necessity to set in his book the sayings of his author Socrates touching
women."
There is a book translated by Caxton from the French, and printed by him
in 1484, which we may incidentally here notice, as illustrating the
female manners of that century. It is called '_The Knight of the
Tower_;' and really would seem to justify the sarcasm of Caxton where he
says, "The women of this country be right good, &c., or at least should
be so." The preface implies that the work, though written by a
Frenchman, applies to the contemporary state of society in England; and
it may be well to see how our ladies were employed about four centuries
ago. It appears from this curious performance that the ladies, although
well accomplished in needlework, confectionary, church music, and even
taught something of the rude surgery of those days, were not great
proficients in reading, and the art of writing was thought to be better
let alone by them. The Knight of the Tower complains of the levity of
the ladies. Their extravagance in dress, the husband's standing
complaint, is thus put by the Knight of the Tower: "The wives say to
their husbands every day, 'Sir, such a wife and such hath such goodly
array that beseemeth her well, and I pray you I may have of the same.'
And if her husband say, 'Wife, if such have such array, such that are
wiser than they have it not,' she will say, 'No force it is [that is of
no consequence], for they cannot wear it; and if I have it, ye shall see
how well it will become me, for I can wear it.' And thus with her words
her husband must needs ordain her that which she desireth, or he shall
never have peace with her, for they will find so many reasons that they
will not be warned [put off]." The women of lower estate come in for the
same censure, the complaint being that they _fur_ their draperies and
_fur_ their heels. It appears to have been the practice for ladies to go
very freely to feasts and assemblies, to joustings and tournaments,
without what we now call the protection of a husband or a male relation.
A contemporary writer says, they lavished their wealth and corrupted
their virtue by these freedoms. If we may judge from the warnings which
the Knight of the Tower gives his daughters of the discipline they would
receive at the hands of their husbands for any act of disobedience,—the
discipline not only of hard words, but of harder blows,—it is not to be
wondered at that they sought abroad for some relief to the gloom and
severity of their home lives. It is pleasant, amidst these illustrations
of barbarous and profligate manners, to find a picture of that real
goodness which has distinguished the female character in all ages, and
which, especially in the times of feudal oppression of which we are
speaking, mitigated the lot of those who were dependent upon the
benevolence of the great possessors of property. The good Lady Cecile of
Balleville is thus described by the Knight of the Tower: "Her daily
ordinance was, that she rose early enough, and had ever friars and two
or three chaplains, which said matins before her within the oratory. And
after, she heard a high mass and two low, and said her service full
devoutly. And after this she went and arrayed herself, and walked in her
garden or else about her place, saying her other devotions and prayers.
And as time was she went to dinner. And after dinner, if she wist and
knew any sick folk or women in their childbed, she went to see and
visited them, and made to be brought to them her best meat. And there as
she might not go herself, she had a servant proper therefore, which rode
upon a little horse, and bare with him great plenty of good meat and
drink, for to give to the poor and sick folk there as they were. Also,
she was of such custom, that, if she knew any poor gentlewoman that
should be wedded, she arrayed her with her jewels. Also she went to the
obsequies of poor gentlewomen, and gave there torches, and such other
luminary as it needed thereto. And after she had heard evensong she went
to her supper if she fasted not, and timely she went to bed, and made
her steward to come to her to wit [know] what meat should be had the
next day. She made great abstinence, and wore the hair upon the
Wednesday and upon the Friday." This is a true character of the middle
ages;—goodness based upon sincere piety, but that degenerating into
penances and mortifications, which our Reformed faith teaches us to
believe are unnecessary for spiritual elevation.
Caxton's early friend and patron, Lord Rivers, appears, as far as we can
judge from the books which remain, to have been the only one of the
first English printer's contemporaries who rendered him any literary
assistance. He contributed three works to Caxton's press; namely, the
'Dictes and Sayings of the Philosophers,' 'The Moral Proverbs of
Christine de Pisa,' and the book named 'Cordial.'
The book named '_Cordial_' is clearly described in a prologue by Caxton.
It was delivered to him, he says, by Lord Rivers, "for to be imprinted
and so multiplied to go abroad among the people, that thereby more
surely might be remembered the four last things undoubtedly coming."
Caxton, in an elaborate commendation of his patron, of whose former
"great tribulation and adversity" he speaks, says, "It seemeth that he
conceiveth well the mutability and the unstableness of this present
life, and that he desireth, with a great zeal and spiritual love, our
ghostly help and perpetual salvation." Lord Rivers had indeed borne
tribulation since the time when, the flower of Edward's court, he
jousted with the Bastard of Burgundy in Smithfield, in 1468. In the
following year his father and brother were murdered by a desperate
faction at Northampton. When Lord Rivers, conceiving the mutability and
unstableness of life, wrote the book called 'Cordial,' he was only
six-and-thirty years of age. Three years after Caxton printed the book,
the translator was himself murdered at Pomfret by the Protector Richard.
Shakspere did not do injustice to the noble character of this peer when
he makes him exclaim, when he was led to the block,
"Sir Richard Ratcliff, let me tell thee this,—
To-day shalt thou behold a subject die,
For truth, for duty, and for loyalty."
_Richard III._, Act iii., Scene 2.
There is left to us a remarkable fragment which indicates to us
something higher than the ability and literary attainment of this
unfortunate nobleman. It has been preserved by John Rouse, a
contemporary historian, who lived in the pleasant solitude of Guy's
Cliff, near Warwick, and died there in 1491. He says (we translate from
his Latin), "In the time of his imprisonment at Pomfret he wrote a balet
in English, which has been shown to me, having these words—Sum what
musyng," &c.; and then Rouse transcribes the ballad, of which the second
stanza is imperfect, but has been supplied from another ancient copy.
Percy, who prints the ballad in his 'Reliques,' says, "If we consider
that it was written during his cruel confinement in Pomfret Castle, a
short time before his execution in 1483, it gives us a fine picture of
the composure and steadiness with which this stout earl beheld his
approaching fate." We subjoin the ballad, modernising the orthography:—
Somewhat musing, and more mourning,
In remembering the unstedfastness,
This world being of such wheeling,
Me contrarying what may I guess.
I fear doubtless, remediless
Is now to seize my woful chance;
For unkindness withouten less
And no redress, me doth avance,
With displeasance to my grievance
And no surance of remedy:
Lo in this trance, now in substance
Such is my dance, willing to die.
Methinks truly bounden am I,
And that greatly, to be content,
Seeing plainly fortune doth wry
All contrary from mine intent.
My life was lent me to one intent;
It is nigh spent. Welcome, fortune!
But I ne went thus to be shent,
But she it meant—such is her won [wont].
Turn we to one of the more important works of Caxton, in which he sought
to inform his countrymen generally with a knowledge of history. '_The
Chronicles of England_,' printed in 1480, begins at the fabulous period
before the Romans, and ends at the commencement of the reign of Edward
IV. The early legends of English History, which even Milton did not
disdain to touch upon, are founded upon the 'History' of Nennius, which
was composed in the ninth century, and which was copied by Geoffrey of
Monmouth and other of the early chroniclers. Caxton took the thing as he
found it, and continued the narrative to his own time. He deals
prudently with contemporary events. Caxton followed up these chronicles
in the same year with another book, called '_The Description of
Britain_,' in which he tells of the extent of the island, its marvels
and wonders, its highways, rivers, cities, and towns, provinces, laws,
bishoprics, and languages. He describes also Scotland and Ireland. Some
of his marvels and wonders are a little astounding; but others are as
precise in their description, and as forcible (brevity being an
essential quality), as we could well desire. Thus of Stonehenge: "At
Stonehinge beside Salisbury there be great stones and wondrous huge; and
be reared on high, as it were gates set upon other gates; nevertheless
it is not known cleanly nor aperceived how and wherefore they be so
areared and so wonderful hanged."
From the chronicles of his own country Caxton sought to lead his readers
forward to a knowledge of the history of other countries. He published
in 1482 '_The Polychronicon_, containing the bearings and deeds of many
times.' This book was originally composed by Higden, a Benedictine monk
of Chester; and was translated from Latin into English by John de
Trevisa, who lived in the times of Edward III. and Richard II. Caxton in
his title-page, says, "Imprinted by William Caxton, after having
somewhat changed the rude and old English, that is to wit certain words
which in these days be neither used nor understanden." In another place
he says, "And now at this time simply imprinted and set in form by me,
William Caxton, and a little embellished from the old making." Caxton
was here doing what every person who desires to advance the knowledge of
his time, by extending that knowledge beyond the narrow circle of
scholars and antiquarians, must always do. He popularised an old book;
he made it intelligible. He did not do,—as some verbal pedants amongst
us still persist in doing,—present our old writers, and especially our
poets, in all the capriciousness of their original orthography. He was
the first great diffuser of knowledge amongst us; and surely we think he
took a judicious course. He says of the 'Polychronicon,' "The book is
general, touching shortly many notable matters." But, _general_ as the
book was, and extensively as he desired to circulate it according to his
limited means, he does not approach his task without a due sense of the
importance of the knowledge he was seeking to impart. The praise of
history in his proem is truly eloquent: "History is a perpetual
conservatrice of those things that have been before this present time;
and also a quotidian witness of benefits, of malfaits [evil deeds],
great acts, and triumphal victories of all manner of people. And also,
if the terrible feigned fables of poets have much stirred and moved men
to right and conserving of justice, how much more is to be supposed that
history, assertrice of virtue and a mother of all philosophy, moving our
manners to virtue, reformeth and reconcileth near hand all those men
which through the infirmity of our moral nature hath led the most part
of their life in otiosity [idleness], and misspended their time, passed
right soon out of remembrance: of which life and death is equal
oblivion." Again, "Other monuments distributed in divers changes endure
but for a short time or season; but the virtue of history, diffused and
spread by the universal world hath time, which consumeth all other
things, as conservatrice and keeper of her work."
'_The Image or Mirror of the World_' is one of the popular books which
Caxton translated from the French. It treats of a vast variety of
subjects, after the imperfect natural philosophy of those days. We have
an account of the seven liberal arts; of nature, how she worketh; and
how the earth holdeth him right in the middle of the world. We have also
much geographical information, amongst which the wonders of Inde occupy
a considerable space. Meteorology and astronomy take up another large
portion. The work concludes with an account of the celestial paradise.
This book seems specially addressed to high and courtly readers, for
Caxton says, "The hearts of nobles, in eschewing of idleness at such
time as they have none other virtuous occupations on hand, ought to
exercise them in reading, studying, and visiting the noble feats and
deeds of the sage and wise men, sometime travelling in profitable
virtues; of whom it happeneth oft that some be inclined to visit the
books treating of sciences particular; and other to read and visit books
speaking of feats of arms, of love, or of other marvellous histories;
and among all other, this present book, which is called the 'Image or
Mirror of the World,' ought to be visited, read, and known, by cause it
treateth of the world, and of the wonderful division thereof." But the
translator tells us, "I have endeavoured me therein, at the request and
desire, cost and dispense, of the honourable and worshipful man, Hugh
Brice, citizen and alderman of London." We may therefore believe that
Caxton intended this book for a wider circulation than that of the
nobles whom he addresses; especially as he says, "I have made it so
plain that every man reasonable may understand it, if he advisedly and
attentively read it, or hear it." The good old printer rendered the book
intelligible to all classes, under the condition that all who read it
should give their attention. This is one of the books into which Caxton
has introduced woodcuts, giving twenty-seven figures, "without which it
may not lightly [easily] be understood." These twenty-seven figures are
diagrams, explanatory of some of the scientific principles laid down in
this book; but there are eleven other cuts illustrative of other
subjects treated in the work. An idea maybe formed of the manner in
which those cuts are engraved from the following fac-simile of 'Music.'
[Illustration]
One of the most popular books of Caxton's translation must
unquestionably have been the '_History of Reynard the Fox_.' It is held
that this work was composed in the twelfth century; and surely the
author must have been a man of high genius to have constructed a fable
which has been ever since popular in all countries, and delights us even
to this hour. Caxton has no woodcuts to his edition, to which the book
subsequently owed a portion of its attractions.
'_The Subtil Histories and Fables of Esop_,' translated by Caxton from
the French, were printed by him in 1483, "The first year of the reign of
King Richard the Third." In the first leaf there is a supposed portrait
of Esop, a large rough woodcut, exhibiting him as he is described, with
a great head, large visage, long jaws, sharp eyes, a short neck,
_curb_-backed, and so forth. There is a controversy whether Richard the
Third was a deformed man or not. It is held by many that it was one of
the scandals put forth under his triumphant successor (which scandal
Shakspere has for ever made current), that Richard was
"Cheated of feature by dissembling nature,
Deform'd, unfinish'd."
It strikes us that Caxton would scarcely have ventured, in the first
year of King Richard III., to exhibit a print of a hump-backed Esop (for
any print was then a rare thing), if his dread sovereign had been
remarkable amongst the people for a similar defect. The conclusion of
these fables of Esop has a story told by Caxton as from himself, which
is a remarkable specimen of a plain narrative style, with a good deal of
sly humour:—
"Now then I will finish all these fables with this tale that followeth,
which a worshipful priest and a parson told me late: he said that there
were dwelling at Oxenford two priests, both Masters of Arts—of whom that
one was quick and could put himself forth; and that other was a good
simple priest. And so it happened that the master that was pert and
quick was anon promoted to a benefice or twain, and after to prebends,
and for to be a dean of a great prince's chapel, supposing and weening
that his fellow, the simple priest, should never be promoted, but be
always an annual, or, at the most, a parish priest. So after a long time
that this worshipful man, this dean, came running into a good parish
with five or seven horses, like a prelate, and came into the church of
the said parish, and found there this good simple man, sometime his
fellow, which came and welcomed him lowly. And that other bade him 'Good
morrow, Master John,' and took him slightly by the hand, and axed him
where he dwelt.—And the good man said, 'In this parish.' 'How,' said he,
'are ye here a sole priest, or a parish priest?' 'Nay, Sir,' said he,
'for lack of a better, though I be not able nor worthy, I am parson and
curate of this parish.' And then that other vailed [lowered] his bonnet,
and said, 'Master Parson, I pray you to be not displeased; I had
supposed ye had not been beneficed. But, master,' said he, 'I pray you
what is this benefice worth to you a year?' 'Forsooth,' said the good
simple man, 'I wot never; for I make never accompts thereof, how well I
have had it four or five years.' 'And know ye not,' said he, 'what it is
worth?—it should seem a good benefice.' 'No, forsooth,' said he, 'but I
wot well what it shall be worth to me.' 'Why,' said he, 'what shall it
be worth?' Forsooth,' said he, 'if I do my true dealing in the cure of
my parishes in preaching and teaching, and do my part belonging to my
cure, I shall have heaven therefore. And if their souls be lost, or any
of them, by my default, I shall be punished therefore. And hereof I am
sure.' And with that word the rich dean was abashed: and thought he
should be the better, and take more heed to his cures and benefices than
he had done. This was a good answer of a good priest and an honest. And
herewith I finish this book, translated and imprinted by me, William
Caxton." The moral of the fable is not obsolete.
One of Caxton's most splendid books, of which he seems to have printed
three editions, was '_The Golden Legend_.' This is, indeed, an important
work, printed in double columns, and containing between four and five
hundred pages, which are largely illustrated with woodcuts. It was not
without great caution, as we have already mentioned (page 107), that
Caxton proceeded with this heavy and expensive undertaking. Happy would
it have been for all printers if puissant and virtuous earls, and others
in high places, had thought it a duty to encourage knowledge by taking a
"reasonable quantity" of a great work; but happier are we now, when,
such assistance being grudgingly bestowed or honestly despised, the
makers of books can depend upon something more satisfying than the rich
man's purse, which was generally associated with "the proud man's
contumely."
In the prologue to the 'Golden Legend' Caxton recites several of the
works which he had previously "translated out of French into English at
the request of certain lords, ladies, and gentlemen." Those recited are
the 'Recueil of Troy,' the 'Book of the Chess,' 'Jason,' the 'Mirror of
the World,' Ovid's 'Metamorphoses,' and 'Godfrey of Boulogne.' It is
remarkable that no printed copy exists of Ovid's 'Metamorphoses;' but in
the library of Magdalen College, Cambridge, there is a manuscript
containing five books of the 'Metamorphoses,' which purport to be
translated by Caxton. It was evidently a part of his plan for the
encouragement of liberal education, to present a portion of the people
with translations of the classics through the ready means that were open
to him of re-translation from the French. Many translators in later
times have availed themselves of such aids, without the honesty to
indicate the immediate sources of their versions. Caxton printed '_The
Book of Tully of Old Age_,' and '_Tullius his Book of Friendship_.' He
seems to have had great difficulty in obtaining a copy of an old
translation of 'Tullius de Senectute.' The Book 'De Amicitia' was
translated by John, Earl of Worcester, the celebrated adherent of the
house of York, who was beheaded in 1470. Caxton, we think somewhat
unnecessarily, limits the perusal of the treatise on Old Age. "This book
is not requisite nor eke convenient for every rude and simple man, which
understandeth not of science nor cunning, and for such as have not heard
of the noble policy and prudence of the Romans; but for noble, wise, and
great lords, gentlemen, and merchants, that have been and daily be
occupied in matter touching the public weal: and in especial unto them
that been passed their green age, and eke their middle age, called
virility, and been approached unto _senectute_, called old and ancient
age. Wherein they may see how to suffer and bear the same patiently; and
what surety and virtue been in the same, and have also cause to be
joyous and glad that they have escaped and passed the manifold perils
and doubteous adventures that been in juvente and youth, as in this said
book here following ye may more plainly see."
'_The Book of Eneydos_,' compiled from Virgil, is not a translation of
Virgil's great epic, but a sort of historical narrative formed upon the
course of the poet's great story. The most remarkable passage of this
book is that of Caxton's preface, in which he complains of the
unstedfastness of our language, and the difficulty that he found between
plain, rude, and curious terms. (See page 5.) In this translation he
again limits his work to a particular class of persons; as if he felt,
which was probably a prejudice of his time, that the inferior members of
the laity ought not to touch anything that pertained to scholastic
learning. He says, "Forasmuch as this present book is not for a rude
uplandish man to labour therein, nor read it, but only for a clerk and a
noble gentleman that feeleth and understandeth in faits of arms, in
love, and in noble chivalry: therefore, in mean between both, I have
reduced and translated this said book into our English, not over rude
nor curious, but in such terms as shall be understanden, by God's grace,
according to my copy."
'_The book called Cathon_' (Cato's Morals) was destined by Caxton for a
wider circulation:—"In my judgment it is the best book for to be taught
to young children in schools, and also to people of every age it is full
convenient if it be well understanden."
Dr. Dibdin, in his 'Typographical Antiquities,' says of Caxton,
"Exclusively of the labours attached to the working of his press as a
new art, our typographer contrived, though well stricken in years, to
translate not fewer than five thousand closely printed folio pages. As a
translator, therefore, he ranks among the most laborious, and, I would
hope, not the least successful, of his tribe. The foregoing conclusion
is the result of a careful enumeration of all the books translated as
well as printed by him; which [the translated books], if published in
the modern fashion, would extend to nearly twenty-five octavo volumes!"
The exact nature of his labours seems, as might well be imagined, to
have been often determined by very accidental circumstances. One noble
lord requests him to produce this book, and one worshipful gentleman
urges him to translate that. He says himself of his Virgil, "After
divers works made, translated, and achieved, having no work in hand, I,
sitting in my study whereas lay many divers pamphlets and books,
happened that to my hand came a little book in French, which late was
translated out of Latin by some noble clerk of France, which book is
named Eneydos, made in Latin by that noble poet and great clerk Virgil."
Some books, indeed, he would be determined to print by their existing
popularity. Such were his two editions of Chaucer's '_Canterbury Tales_'
which we may be sure, from his sound criticism, he felt the necessity of
promulgating to a much wider circle than had been reached by the
transcribers. (See page 31.) Caxton was especially the devoted printer
of Chaucer. His truly honourable conduct in venturing upon a new edition
of the 'Canterbury Tales,' when he found his first was incorrect,
exhibits an example in the first printer and the first publisher which
the printers and publishers of all subsequent times ought to reverence
and imitate. The early printers, English and foreign, were indeed a high
and noble race. They did not set themselves up to be the patrons of
letters; they did not dispense their dole to scholars grudgingly and
thanklessly; they worked with them; they encountered with them the risks
of profit and of fame; they were scholars themselves; they felt the deep
responsibility of their office; they carried on the highest of all
commerce in an elevated temper; they were not mere hucksters and
chafferers. It was in no spirit of pride, it was in the spirit of duty,
that Caxton raised a table of verses to Chaucer in Westminster Abbey. In
his edition of Boetius, which he gives us to understand was translated
by Master Geoffrey Chaucer, he says, "And furthermore I desire and
require you, that of your charity ye would pray for the soul of the said
worshipful man Geoffrey Chaucer, first translator of this said book into
English, and embellisher in making the said language ornate and fair,
which shall endure perpetually, and therefore he ought eternally to be
remembered; of whom the body and corps lieth buried in the Abbey of
Westminster, beside London, to fore the chapel of Saint Benet, by whose
sepulture is written on a table, hanging on a pillar, his epitaph made
by a poet-laureate, whereof the copy followeth." The writer of the Life
of Chaucer, in the 'Biographia Britannica,' says, "It is very probable
he lay beneath a large stone of gray marble in the pavement where the
monument to Mr. Dryden now stands, which is in the front of that chapel
[St. Benet's], upon the erecting of which [Dryden's monument] this stone
was taken up, and sawed in pieces to made good the pavement. At least
this seems best to answer the description of the place given by Caxton."
There appears, according to the ancient editors of Chaucer's works, to
have been two Latin lines upon his tombstone previous to the epitaph set
up upon a pillar by Caxton. That epitaph was written by Stephanus
Suriganius, poet-laureate of Milan. The monument of Chaucer, which still
remains in the Abbey, around which the ashes of Spenser, and Beaumont,
and Drayton, and Jonson, and Cowley, and Dryden, have clustered, was
erected by an Oxford student in 1555. There might have been worse things
preserved, and yet to be looked upon, in that Abbey, than honest old
Caxton's epitaph upon him whom he calls "the worshipful father and first
founder and embellisher of ornate eloquence in our English."
As the popularity of Chaucer demanded various impressions of his works
from Caxton's press, so did he print an apparently cheap edition of
Gower's '_Confessio Amantis_,' in small type. Two of Lydgate's works
were also printed by him. The more fugitive poetry which issued from his
press has probably all perished. In one of the volumes of Old Ballads in
the British Museum is a fragment of a poem, of which nothing further is
known, telling the story of some heroine that lived a life of unvaried
solitude:—
"From her childhood I find that she fled
Office of woman, and to wood she went,
And many a wild harte's blood she shed
With arrows broad that she to them sent."
One of the most important uses of early printing in England is to be
found in fragments of the Statutes of the Realm, made in the first
parliament of Richard III., and in the first, second, and third
parliaments of Henry VII., some leaves of which exist. That the
promulgation of the laws would soon follow the introduction of the art
of printing was a natural consequence. Early in the next century the
publication of Acts of Parliament became an important branch of trade;
and a King's Printer was formally appointed. Up to our own times all the
cheapening processes of the art of printing had been withheld, at least
in their results, from that branch of printing which was to instruct the
people in their new laws. The Statutes were the dearest of books, and
kept dear for no other purpose but to preserve one relic of the
monopolies of the days of the Stuarts. The abuse has been partially
remedied.
We have purposely reserved to the conclusion of this account of the
productions of Caxton's press, some notice of those works to the
undertaking of which he seems to have been moved by his familiarity with
the frequenters of the court,—those whose talk was of tournaments and
battles, of gallant knights and noble dames; and whose heads, like that
of the worthy Knight of La Mancha, were "full of nothing but
enchantments, quarrels, battles, challenges, wounds, complaints, amours,
torments." It is quite marvellous to look upon the enthusiasm with which
Master Caxton deals with these matters in the days when he had achieved
"The silver livery of advised age."
It offers us one of the many proofs of the energy and youthfulness of
his character. We have already quoted his address to the knights of
England (see page 66), given in his '_Book of the Order of Chivalry_,'
supposed to have been printed in 1484. After this address he proposes a
question which shows that he considers he has fallen upon degenerate
days. "How many knights be there now in England that have the use and
the exercise of a knight? that is to wit, that he knoweth his horse, and
his horse him; that is to say, he being ready at a point to have all
thing that belongeth to a knight, an horse that is according and broken
after his hand, his armour and harness suit, and so forth, _et cetera_.
I suppose, an a due search should be made, there should be many founden
that lack: the more pity is! I would it pleased our sovereign Lord, that
twice or thrice a year, or at the least once, he would cry jousts of
peace, to the end that every knight should have horse and harness, and
also the use and craft of a knight, and also to tourney one against one,
or two against two; and the best to have a prize, a diamond or jewel,
such as should please the prince. This should cause gentlemen to resort
to the ancient customs of chivalry to great fame and renown: and also to
be alway ready to serve their prince when he shall call them, or have
need." There is always some compensating principle arising in the world
to prevent its too rapid degeneracy; and thus, although the tournament
has long ceased, except as a farce, there is many a noble who may still
say, "That he knoweth his horse, and his horse him," through the
attractions of Melton Mowbray and Epsom. Hunting and horse-racing have
done much to keep up our pristine civilization. In '_The Fait of Arms
and Chivalry_,' 1489, Caxton undertakes a higher strain. He translates
this book, "to the end that every gentleman born to arms and all manner
men of war, captains, soldiers, victuallers, and all other, should have
knowledge how they ought to behave them in the faits of war and of
battles." And yet, strange to relate, this belligerent book was written
by a fair lady, Christina of Pisa. The '_Histories of King Arthur_,'
printed in 1485, lands us at once into all the legendary hero-worship of
the middle ages. Caxton, in his preface to this translation by Sir
Thomas Mallory, gives us a pretty full account of the Nine Worthies,
"the best that ever were;" and then he goes on to expound his reasons
for once doubting whether the Histories of Arthur were anything but
fables, and how he was convinced that he was a real man. But surely in
these chivalrous books Caxton had an honest purpose. He exhorts noble
lords and ladies, with all other estates, to read this said book,
"wherein they shall well find many joyous and pleasant histories, and
noble and renowned acts of humanity, gentleness, and chivalries; for
herein may be seen noble chivalry, courtesy, humanity, friendliness,
hardiness, love, friendship, cowardice, murder, hate, virtue, and sin.
Do after the good, and leave the evil, and it shall bring you to good
fame and renown." '_The Life of Charles the Great_' succeeded the
'Histories of King Arthur;' for, according to Caxton, Charlemagne was
the second of the three worthy. It is in the preface to this book that
Caxton says that his father and mother in his youth sent him to school,
by which, by the sufferance of God, he gets his living.
We may conclude this imperfect description of Caxton's labours in the
literature of romance and chivalry, so characteristic of the age in
which he lived, with the following extract from the '_History of King
Blanchardine and Queen Eglantine his wife_,' which he translated from
the French, at the command of the Duchess of Somerset, mother of King
Henry VII. The passage shows us that the old printers were dealers in
foreign books as well as in their own productions: "Which book I had
long to fore _sold_ to my said lady, and knew well that the story of it
was honest and joyful to all virtuous young noble gentlemen and women,
for to read therein, as for their pastime. For under correction, in my
judgment, histories of noble feats and valiant acts of arms and war,
which have been achieved in old time of many noble princes, lords, and
knights, are as well for to see and know their valiantness for to stand
in the special grace and love of their ladies, and in like wise for
gentle young ladies and demoiselles for to learn to be stedfast and
constant in their part to them, that they once have promised and agreed
to, such as have put their lives oft in jeopardy for to please them to
stand in grace, as it is to occupy the ken and study overmuch in books
of contemplation." This is a defence of novel-reading which we could
scarcely have expected at so early a period of our literature.
In 1490 Caxton was approaching, according to all his biographers, to the
great age of fourscore. About this period he appears to have consigned
some relation to the grave, perhaps his wife. In the first year of the
churchwardens' accounts of the parish of St. Margaret's, Westminster,
from May 17, 1490, to June 3, 1492, there is the following entry:—
"Item; atte bureynge of Mawde Caxton
for torches and tapers ... iiijˢ ijᵈ."
On the 15th June, 1490, Caxton finished translating out of French into
English '_The Art and Craft to know well to die_.' The commencement of
the book is an abrupt one: "When it is so, that what a man maketh or
doeth it is made to come to some end, and if the thing be good and well
made it must needs come to good end; then by better and greater reason
every man ought to intend in such wise to live in this world, in keeping
the commandments of God, that he may come to a good end. And then out of
this world, full of wretchedness and tribulations, he may go to heaven
unto God and his saints, unto joy perdurable."
That the end of Caxton was a good end we have little doubt. We have a
testimony, which we shall presently see, that he _worked_ to the end. He
worked upon a book of pious instruction to the last day of his life. He
was not slumbering when his call came. He was still labouring at the
work for which he was born.
There is the following entry in the churchwardens' accounts of the
parish of St. Margaret, in the second year of the period we have above
mentioned:—
"Item; atte bureyng of WILLIAM
CAXTON for iiij torches ... vjˢ viiiᵈ
Item; for the belle at same bureyng ... vjᵈ."
[Illustration: Mark of Wynkyn de Worde.[13]]