Chilcombe is the rounded shoulder of St. Catherine's Hill, on the
summit of which lies a curious squarish "Mizmaze," the execution
of which is often ascribed by guide-books to a Winchester boy who,
detained at school during the vacation, beguiled his time by the
fashioning of this earthwork and by the composition of the Wintonian
"Dulce Domum." The interest of this maze lies not so much in the
fanciful ascription of its origin as in the fact that it has apparently
been cut, or re-cut, by somebody who did not understand the meaning
of the plan given him to work upon. For, as will be seen from our
illustration (Fig. 62), the actual labyrinth is made, not by the
turfed path, but by the narrow channel by which it is delimited. In
the few drawings of this maze which the writer has been able to find
the lines are all straight, instead of being slightly curved as in our
figure, which was sketched on the spot, and it seemed possible that
they might represent an earlier condition of it, but in each instance
the labyrinth is formed by the groove, which is hardly likely to have
been the case in the original design. The maze was re-cut by the Warden
of Winchester, who was guided by a plan in the possession of a lady
residing in the neighbourhood, about the middle of last century, when
it had become almost effaced. Possibly the misinterpretation of the
plan occurred on this occasion. The maze is backed by a clump of pines,
planted by Lord Botetourt in 1770.
[Illustration: FIG. 62.--"Mizmaze," St. Catherine's Hill, Winchester.
(W. H. M.)]
There used to be, until a generation ago, a turf maze at Leigh, in the
north-west of Dorset. A writer in _Notes and Queries_ in 1868 describes
it as being slightly hollow, circular, thirty-three paces in diameter,
and enclosed by a bank three feet high. He adds: "I am sorry to say the
turf has grown over the little trenches and that it is now impossible
to trace the pattern of the maze." Sir Frederick Treves, in his
"Highways and Byways in Dorset," 1906, speaks of this maze as having
consisted of "low banks and trenches arranged in an intricate figure,
which the youths of the village, accompanied no doubt by the maidens,
were wont to thread at certain seasons of the year." He states that it
is on high ground in an open field and that of the winding passages no
trace now survives. Only the low bank and ditch surrounding the maze
remain visible.
[Illustration: FIG. 63.--"Troy-town," Pimperne, Dorset. (Hutchins.)]
At Pimperne, not far from Blandford, there was formerly a maze of a
unique design (Fig. 63). John Aubrey, writing in 1686, says it was
"much used by the young people on Holydaies and by ye School-boies."
The path was bounded by ridges about a foot in height. The maze was
destroyed by the plough in 1730. The memory of another turf maze in
the same country is preserved in the name of Troy-town, applied to a
locality about three miles north-east of Dorchester. One is also said
to have existed near Bere Regis. Aubrey goes on to refer to another at
West Ashton, near Trowbridge, Wiltshire, and one "on the Cotteswold
Downes, where Mr. Dover's Games were celebrated." He mentions them also
in his "Natural History and Antiquities of Surrey," and concludes his
reference by quoting what he calls a "Poetical Description" of them, by
Thomas Randolph, a poet and dramatist of the seventeenth century, the
so-called description being nothing more than an indictment of the lazy
shepherd swain, who prefers to spend his leisure in sleeping under a
bush when, according to the poet, he ought
"... to tune his Reed and chant his layes
Or nimbly run the windings of the Maze."
This is from Thomas Randolph's (or Randall's) "Eglogue on the Palilia
and Noble Assemblies revived on Cotswold Hills by Mr. Robert Dover,"
one of a collection of eulogies--the _Annalia Dubrensia_--by various
poets of the day of the then famous annual sports organised by Captain
Dover on the hills near Chipping Campden. Mazes, or "laborinths,"
are referred to in the contributions of several of the other poets
concerned, of whom we may mention Francis Izod, Nicholas Wallington,
William Bellas and William Denny. A figure in the crude frontispiece
conveys a similar allusion.
In Essex we have an example of rather larger dimensions than the
majority, namely, that on the east side of the common at Saffron Walden
(Fig. 64). A tall bank hides it from the Thaxted road, which runs
within a few yards of it. The four bastions (or "bellows") and the
centre are slightly raised. The overall dimensions are approximately 91
ft., excluding the bastions, and 138 ft. from corner to corner.
This maze is referred to in the Corporation account books for the
year 1699, when it was apparently re-cut. On several subsequent
occasions it became neglected and almost obliterated, but fortunately
there has always been some person sufficiently interested to cause
its renovation. According to a local record, re-cuttings have taken
place in 1828, 1841, 1859, 1887, and 1911. On the last occasion it was
underlaid with bricks, to facilitate future renovations.
[Illustration: FIG. 64.--Turf Labyrinth, Saffron Walden, Essex. (W. H.
M.)]
As in the case of the Winchester example, the "path" consists of the
narrow and shallow groove instead of the raised turf, and this gives
some weight to the tradition that it is only a copy of a much larger
maze which formerly existed further to the east.
In a manuscript book of the latter part of the eighteenth century the
maze is spoken of as a favourite resort for the young bloods of the
town, a complicated system of rules and wagers (in gallons of beer)
being laid down in connection with walking the maze.
It is stated that a large ash tree at one time occupied the centre, but
that it perished by fire in the Guy Fawkes celebrations of November 5,
1823.
A few years ago some boys, playing on the central mound, discovered a
Roman coin. This does not, of course, prove that the work is of Roman
origin.
In the 1789 edition of Camden's "Britannia" a drawing of the maze
exhibits merely a series of concentric circles with extensions on the
outermost pair forming the "bastions." This illustration could hardly
have been prepared on the spot.
About twenty miles to the north-west of Saffron Walden and a few
miles to the west of Cambridge lies the little village of Comberton
(Cambs). The playground of the village school occupies one corner at
the cross-roads, and in the south-west angle of this, enclosed by iron
railings, lies a turf maze of a pattern similar to that at Alkborough.
Owing to the use which the school children make of it the paths are
nearly denuded of grass, but the ridges are well defined, as shown by
the photograph (Fig. 65), which was taken in March 1921. The present
maze is a faithful copy of that which was formerly situated a few yards
away, and which, when the school was built, occupied an inconvenient
position just outside the scholars' entrance. The old maze was known as
the "Mazles." It used to be the custom in the village to have a feast
once every three years, and at such times the maze was re-cut.
Comberton, by the way, is almost the next village to Bourn, where, as
we have seen, a peculiar pavement maze occupies the floor of the church
tower.
[Illustration:
[_Photo: W. H. M._
Fig. 65. "The Mazles," Comberton, Cambs.]
[Illustration:
[_Photo: W. H. M._
Fig. 67. Turf Labyrinth, Hilton, Hunts.]
In the neighbouring county of Huntingdon we find a splendidly
preserved maze, of curious plan, in a corner of the green in the
rambling and out-of-the-way but charming village of Hilton (Fig. 66).
[Illustration: FIG. 66.--Turf Labyrinth, Hilton, Hunts. (W. H. M.)]
These turf labyrinths are in most cases liable to escape the notice of
all but the intentional seeker, owing to their flat and grassy nature,
and the difficulty is accentuated in the case of Hilton by reason of
the fact that the maze is at some little distance from the road, and
is, moreover, sunk to a depth of several inches below the general
level of the surrounding turf. It may easily be located, however, if
one remembers that the centre is marked by a square stone obelisk
surmounted by a ball. This obelisk has indications of a sun-dial on
the north face, with the words "A.B. hoc." On its south face it bears
a coat of arms, engraved within a circle, and the inscription: "Sic
transit gloria mundi. Gulielmus Sparrow, Gen., natus ano. 1641. Aetatis
sui 88 quando obiit, hos gyros formavit anno 1660." On the east face
is engraved, "William Sparrow departed this life the 25th August, Anno
Domini 1729, aged 88 years." The west face bears only the words "Dep.
hoc." Our photograph (Fig. 67) shows the obelisk and as much of the
maze as could conveniently be included with the camera used. It will be
noticed that the trenches between the paths are fairly wide and deeply
cut.
The good state of preservation is no doubt greatly due to the fact,
remarked by a writer of half a century ago, that the paths are made up
with pebbles. No sign of the latter is now evident amongst the thick
turf. The plan of the maze shows some interesting variations on the
older and more conventional designs of Alkborough, Comberton, etc.,
the most remarkable point being that the path from the exterior to the
centre is almost direct, the labyrinth proper being composed of paths
which commence and terminate at the central plot. The Hilton maze
appears to be unique in this respect.
Whatever may have been the original purpose of turf labyrinths in this
country as a whole, it is fairly clear that the Hilton example at any
rate was not made for ecclesiastical purposes if, as stated on the
obelisk, it was constructed in 1660. On the other hand, the reflection
that at that date Puritan influences were on the decline and the
restoration of the Monarchy was imminent leads one to conclude that
this somewhat exuberant design of a youth of nineteen was intended for
purposes of rustic enjoyment.
[Illustration: FIG. 68.--"Walls of Troy," Rockcliffe Marsh, Cumberland.
(After Ferguson.)]
Fig. 68 shows a labyrinth formerly incised in the turf of the marshes
of Rockcliffe in Cumberland, near the shores of the Solway Firth. It
covered a space of 26 ft. by 24 ft. and had a 9-in. path bounded by
an 8-in. groove. It went by the name of "The Walls of Troy." The two
villages of Burgh and Rockcliffe are distant from one another about two
miles and a half, and the river Eden bisects the intervening marshes
and occasionally floods them. A certain point on the marsh is known as
"Willie of the Boats," from the fact that prior to 1816, when the main
road from Carlisle to Glasgow passed this way, a man of that name lived
here and acted as guide through the marshes and over the river fords.
A maze existed close to this spot and is said to have been cut in 1815
by a man named Christopher Graham. Whether Graham designed the maze
himself or whether he copied an already existing specimen cannot now
be determined, but it is stated that a smaller and probably older maze
existed side by side with his. Both have now entirely disappeared. The
maze figured, however, was about a mile from this spot and was still in
existence in 1883, though much overgrown. The local tradition declared
it to have been cut by Robert Edgar, a sailor, who was subsequently
drowned at sea. All three of the mazes mentioned were apparently of
similar design. A friend of the writer was unable to find any traces of
a maze in the locality in 1920.
On the summit of a hill by St. Anne's Well, Sneinton, Nottingham, there
formerly existed a maze called "Robin Hood's Race," or "Shepherd's
Race." It was of a design somewhat similar to that at Saffron Walden,
but having each of the four bastions ornamented with an incised figure
of the type known in heraldry as a "Cross, crosslet, fitchy." The
path was stated to be 535 yards in total length. When the lordship of
Sneinton was enclosed, in February 1797, the maze was ploughed up. An
enterprising printer of Nottingham, J. Wigsby by name, preserved for us
the plan by publishing in the following month an illustrated pamphlet
in commemoration of the maze, "Sixpence plain, eightpence coloured."
Another turf maze used to exist in the same neighbourhood, namely, at
Clifton, about four miles or so from Sneinton, on the opposite side of
Nottingham. This was of a square design similar to that of the garden
maze shown in Fig. 75.
At Somerton, near Banbury, Oxfordshire, there has been well preserved
a very good "Troy-town" (Fig. 69), of a plan which recalls that on
the tiles of Toussaints Abbey. It is situated in the garden of a
farm-house, named after it "Troy," and is surrounded by beautiful trees
and shrubs. Our drawing is made from a sketch kindly supplied by the
brother of the present occupier, Mr. J. F. Godwin. Its dimensions are
57 ft. by 50 ft., and the turf path, one foot in width, has a total
length of 400 yards.
[Illustration: FIG. 69.--"Troy-town," Somerton, Oxon. (From sketch by
O. W. Godwin.)]
Near Piddington, on the border of the same county, rises to a height
of nearly 400 ft. above the village the eminence known as Muswell
Hill. Close to the summit of the hill is an earthwork having the form
of a square turfed level surrounded by a low bank and bearing the
traditional name of "The Wilderness." It is often spoken of locally as
a Roman camp, but there is nothing in its structure to suggest such an
origin: no satisfactory explanation of its origin or purpose has, in
fact, been hitherto forthcoming. Now the word "wilderness," as we shall
see in a subsequent chapter, was employed during a certain period to
denote a maze of the horticultural type, and it is not improbable that
it was used in connection with mazes in general. May we not, therefore,
allow it to be within the realms of legitimate surmise that this
mysterious work constitutes the remains of a square turf maze, perhaps
of a design similar to that of the Clifton maze mentioned above? The
situation, the enclosing bank, and the regular outline of the latter
accord well with this supposition, though the dimensions--250 ft.
square--are rather excessive unless we allow for a considerable margin
between the bank and the maze itself.
Another Oxfordshire locality, Tadmarton Heath, is mentioned as a turf
maze site in a manuscript by the Rev. T. Leman, quoted in a county
history published in 1861, but if such a work ever existed there all
traces of it have now disappeared; the same is true with regard to
another reputed maze site to which reference is made in the manuscript,
namely, the Herefordshire Beacon, in the Malvern Hills. In both cases
the situations are such as might well have been selected for the
purpose, judging by analogy with other known turf maze sites. Sixty
years is none too long a period to allow of the complete obliteration
of the turf figures, if such existed, in the absence of care and
attention, so that it is not surprising if we now find ourselves unable
to trace them, especially if they possessed no circumscribing bank or
ditch.
In Surrey a "Troy-town" was formerly well known in the neighbourhood of
Guildford. It was cut in the turf on Hillbury, between Guildford and
Farnham. It may be that the earth-rings of which traces are yet visible
on St. Martha's Hill, on the other side of Guildford, constitute the
remains of a similar work. It is said that the youths and maidens
of the town used to congregate here on Good Friday and indulge in
boisterous celebrations, the origin of which is not known. Another
Surrey spot formerly alluded to as having a turf maze is Putney Heath.
Unfortunately, however, we cannot at present point to any authentic
traces of a single specimen in the whole of the county.
At Chilham, near Godmersham, in Kent, is an earthwork on the downs
known as Julaber's Barrow or Juliberry's Grave. It bears no traces
of mazy paths, but the name carries strong suggestion of "Julian's
Bower," and there is perhaps as much force in this suggestion as in the
opposing view that the mound is the grave of Quintus Laberius Durus,
one of Julius Caesar's tribunes (hence _Julii Laberius_), who was
killed by the Britons. The latter theory was, however, maintained by
a writer to _The Times_ as recently as April 5, 1920. The fact that
as late as 1893, according to a letter to _Notes and Queries_ of that
year, traces of a "bower" or "Troy-town" were still observable in
the neighbourhood of Walmer, shows that the Chilham work, if a turf
maze, would not have been unique in the county. It is also said that
one formerly existed near Westerham; the name "Troy-town," moreover,
survives in other parts of the county (see p. 211). Additional
support for the theory of a turf maze site at Chilham is found in the
occurrence of the name Bowerland, applied to a district to the north of
the village. We find, too, a hamlet of Bower, only a few miles to the
south-west.
In Bedfordshire, not far from Dunstable, there is a circular earthwork
on the downs called "Maiden Bower." Stukeley refers to it in his
discussion on Julian's Bowers as being in his opinion the site of
a former turf maze, and there is some force in this contention. He
mentions in the same reference a similar work at Ashwell.
Dr. Trollope stated that specimens had been reported also from the
county of Devonshire and in Scotland, but actual details are not at the
moment available.
There is no doubt that the custom of cutting these devices in the
turf was formerly very widespread throughout the land, although
comparatively few examples now exist. Even during the past generation,
as we have seen, some are known to have disappeared. Let us therefore
hope that all possible care will be taken to preserve those that remain
to us.
CHAPTER XII
THE ORIGIN OF TURF MAZES
In 1858--the year in which Archdeacon Trollope published the results of
his researches--Capt. W. H. Mounsey drew attention to the description
in a Welsh history book ("Drych y Prif Oesoedd," published in 1740) of
a curious custom formerly prevalent among the Welsh shepherds. This
custom consisted of cutting in the turf a figure in the form of a
labyrinth, which they called Caerdroia, _i.e._ the walls, or citadel,
of Troy. He also remarked that the herdsmen of Burgh and Rockcliffe "at
the present day are in the habit of cutting this labyrinthine figure,
which they also call 'the Walls of Troy.'" He drew the tentative
conclusion that this name "would seem to be an after-thought of pure
Cymric origin, suggested by the similarity between _Caerdroia_, the
City of Troy, and _Caer y troiau_, the city of windings or turnings."
A similar suggestion had already been made in the _Transactions of the
Cymmrodorion Society_ in 1822, the writer ("Idrison") holding that the
turf figures, and also those on the Knossian coins, had reference to
the courses of the sun as conceived by ancient worshippers of that orb.
Captain Mounsey was promptly answered by Dr. Trollope, who referred to
the wide distribution of these devices throughout England and commented
on their total absence from Brittany, where, if they were of ancient
Cymric origin, one would have expected to find at least some trace of
them. He also stated that they first received the name of "Troy-towns"
in Tudor days, when "subtleties" of all kinds were in vogue, the term
being used simply to indicate, by analogy with the Troy of legend, the
difficulties to be overcome before the centre could be reached. Dr.
Trollope gave it as his considered opinion that they were originally
cut for penitential purposes by ecclesiastics, and this opinion has
since his time remained practically unchallenged. In his memoir on the
subject he reproduces a sketch showing the St. Anne's Hill maze with
two gowned and kneeling persons in the act of performing a penitential
circuit. Both the sketch and Dr. Trollope's conclusion are based on
inference, however; there does not appear to be any direct evidence in
the matter.
The theory of an ecclesiastical origin of the turf mazes is chiefly
supported by analogy with the continental church labyrinths which many
of them so strongly resemble. Against the argument of their frequent
proximity to an ecclesiastical site we may place that of their equally
frequent proximity to known Roman remains and the fact that many of our
old churches were founded on Roman sites.
The Welsh custom above referred to was also described by P. Roberts
in his "Cambrian Popular Antiquities," published in 1815. He gives a
plan of the figure as usually cut--a design resembling the circular
labyrinths on Knossian coins, but flattened on the side where the
entrance is situated--and expresses dissatisfaction with it because
there are "no means of losing the way into the citadel, the supposed
way continuing regularly through all its windings unbroken, which could
scarcely have been the design of the inventor" (Fig. 70).
This figure, he says, is the plan of a labyrinth which is sometimes cut
out in the turf by shepherd boys whilst they are tending their flocks
on the mountains of Wales, and is sometimes drawn and presented as a
puzzle by boys to exercise the ingenuity of their school-fellows,
either in finding their way to the citadel at the centre or in drawing
the plan. The tradition which accompanies the plan is that the city
of Troy was defended by seven walls represented by the seven exterior
lines and the entrance made as intricate as possible in order to
frustrate an attacking force.
[Illustration: FIG. 70.--"Caerdroia." (After P. Roberts.)]
On the question whether turf mazes were, as Dr. Trollope affirmed,
constructed by ecclesiastics for penitential purposes, there does not
appear to be sufficient evidence to form a final decision. Even if it
be true that they, and the pavement labyrinths, were actually used in
the manner mentioned--a statement for which we do not seem to have
definite proof--it by no means follows that they were designed with
that object. We do know for certain that they were, from Tudor times
onwards, used for recreational purposes. In his "Midsummer Night's
Dream" (Act II., Sc. i.) Shakespeare makes Titania say, in her reply to
Oberon (after the latter had twitted her with her love for Theseus):
"... the quaint mazes in the wanton green,
For lack of tread are undistinguishable."
In "The Tempest" also (Act III., Sc. iii.) he makes the old counsellor
Gonzalo say:
"By'r lakin, I can go no further, sir,
My old bones ache: here's a maze trod indeed
Through forth-rights and meanders: by your patience
I needs must rest me";
and further on (Act V., Sc. i.) he puts a similar phrase into the mouth
of Alonso:
"This is as strange a maze as e'er man trod:
And there is in this business more than nature
Was ever conduct of."
It is most likely that the turf mazes were in existence long before
Shakespeare's time. The similarity of design between some of them
and certain of the continental church labyrinths, which has already
been alluded to, furnishes some grounds for supposing that they were
contemporary with the latter in origin, in which case they would most
probably have been constructed in the twelfth or thirteenth centuries.
The fact that several of them were situated in the neighbourhood of
some religious institution also lends support to the assertion that
they were of monastic workmanship. There is no reason, however, to
suppose that their construction and the handing on of the labyrinth
tradition was confined to ecclesiastics.
According to M. Berthelot, who made a special study of the work of the
ancient and mediaeval alchemists, a similar figure was employed by
the latter. At any rate he found in an eleventh-century alchemistic
manuscript, which he refers to as the Manuscript of St. Mark, Venice,
a labyrinth drawing closely resembling the ecclesiastical type,
accompanied by a commentary in Greek verse. He, however, expresses the
opinion that both the labyrinth and the verses are an addition of the
fourteenth or fifteenth century. The figure, he says, is referred to as
"The Labyrinth of Solomon."
The name of Solomon was in use at least as late as 1844 in connection
with labyrinthine figures. In that year M. Didron, a noted French
archaeologist, whilst making a tour through Greece, visited the
convent of St. Barlaam, a building perched high up on a huge crag and
approached only by a rope. On the wall of the guestroom he observed
a red tracing of a labyrinth resembling that on the floor of Chartres
Cathedral. M. Didron inquired as to the origin of it, and was informed
that it was called the "Prison de Salomon" and that it had been copied
on the wall long before by a monk who had found the design in a book.
The monk was dead and the book lost. This "Solomon's Prison" was of the
same character as the "Solomon's Labyrinth" described by M. Berthelot,
but very probably these and similar terms were at one time as popular
as "Chemin de Jérusalem," "Julian's Bower," and so on, in their
application to all sorts of labyrinthine devices.
A simple "interrupted-circle" type of labyrinth was adopted as a
heraldic device by Gonzalo Perez, a Spanish ecclesiastic who acted
as Secretary to Charles V and Philip II, and published in 1566
a translation of Homer's "Odyssey." The labyrinth was shown in
perspective, with the Minotaur, in fighting attitude, at the centre. It
was surmounted by the motto _In silentio et spe_.
No doubt continental heraldry could furnish us with many similar
references of the sort, although nothing of the kind seems to occur
in English heraldry. In Fig. 71, for instance, is shown one used by
Bois-dofin de Laval, Archbishop of Embrun. The motto in this case was
_Fata viam invenient_ ("The Fates will find a way"), a motto adopted
in England by the Berkshire Vansittarts. Our illustration is copied
from an early seventeenth-century book entitled "Devises Héroïques et
Emblèmes," by Claude Paradin.
In the text it is stated that "par ce labyrinthe ... se pourroit
entendre que pour rencontrer la voye, & chemin de vie eternelle, la
grace de Dieu nous adresse: nous mettant entre les mains le filet de
ses saincts commandemens. A ce que le tenans & suivans tousiours nous
venions a nous tirer hors des dangereux foruoyemens des destroits
mõdains." In other words, the device may be taken as emblematical of
the temptation-labyrinth of this worldly life, which can only be
safely traversed by means of the Ariadne thread of divine grace.
The design in this case is of a peculiar type, but it may be very
easily derived from the simple split-ring or "Pigs in Clover" design
(Fig. 144).
[Illustration: FIG. 71.--Labyrinth Device of Archbishop of Embrun.
(After C. Paradin.)]
We have in the two cases just mentioned, as in the case of the pavement
labyrinths, an association with the Church or with ecclesiastics. At
the same time we know that, in England at any rate, the turf mazes
were used for sportive purposes in the days of Elizabeth, and there
is, so far, a lack of contemporary reference to their employment in a
devotional or penitential capacity. "Treading" or "threading" the maze
was a favourite game for several generations. Seeing that the path in
the turf maze has as a rule no branches or dead-ends, the sport in
question would appear to have been rather simple in character, unless
we imagine the participants to have been blindfolded for the purpose or
primed with a tankard or two of some jocund beverage.
Let us refer once more to that chapter of Pliny's "Natural History"
in which he says that we must not compare the Egyptian and other
labyrinths with "what we see traced on our mosaic pavements _or to the
mazes formed in the fields for the entertainment of children_." The
italicised words clearly show that the construction of something akin
to our turf mazes was practised by the Romans. It seems very reasonable
to infer that, if the custom were so common as Pliny seems to imply,
it would have been carried to the Roman colonies in these islands.
An argument which has often been brought forward in this connection
is that from very early times the game of Troy, the _lusus Trojae_,
was played by Roman youths. Virgil describes it in the fifth book of
his "Aeneid," and draws attention to the similarity between the mazy
windings of this sport--which was performed on horseback--and the
sinuous path of the Cretan labyrinth (see Chapter XVIII). The inference
drawn from this is that our "Troy-towns" and the sports connected with
them are in the direct line of descent from this classic game and are
therefore a legacy of the Roman occupation of Britain.
Dr. Stukeley, whom we had occasion to mention with reference to the
Horncastle maze, suggested that the term Julian's Bower was derived
from the name of Iulus, the son of Aeneas, who is described as having
taken part in the game. We see, then, that there is a good deal to be
said for the claim of a Roman origin.
Assuming for the moment that such was the case, we are faced with
some difficulty in accounting for the preservation throughout the
intervening ages of a class of earthwork which, without attention, is
liable to become effaced in a few decades.
Is it likely that the Britons, after the Roman recall, would trouble
to preserve the playgrounds of their late rulers' children? Is it at
all probable that the successive waves of immigrants, Anglo-Saxons,
Danes and Norsemen, would concern themselves with the maintenance of
such alien frivolities?
Is there not a chance that perhaps some of these invaders brought the
custom with them?
If we had to rely solely on our own historical records, we should find
it extremely difficult to arrive at any conclusion in the matter.
Researches of recent decades have, however, rendered it possible to
approach the matter from a much wider angle, and, before we attempt
any further to inquire into the origin of our own turf mazes, we shall
find it necessary to go back very far indeed in the history of European
civilisation, and to look at the question of labyrinth origins from
another point of view.
Before doing so, however, we will review a development which, in the
eyes of the archaeologist an insignificant side-line, is perhaps to
many readers a matter of greater interest than anything we have yet
dealt with, embracing as it does that type of labyrinth which is
familiar to all in the famous Hampton Court specimen.
CHAPTER XIII
THE FLORAL LABYRINTH AND THE DWARF-SHRUB MAZE
The mention of the word "maze" most frequently calls to mind a block of
tall shrubs penetrated by a puzzling branching path, which terminates
in an arbour or goal of some sort. But just as we have seen that the
horticultural maze is far from being the sole form of expression of the
idea, so we must now recognise that even in horticulture the well-known
hedge maze is not the only type of verdant labyrinth.
The dwarf box, although a favourite material for delimiting flower beds
and edging paths, is merely a subordinate or "accompanying" instrument,
so to speak, in the gardener's orchestra. Yet we do occasionally see it
employed as a soloist, executing its modest little arabesques between
the strepitant choruses of the chromatic parterres on the terrace of
some stately country home. In such cases we see a relic of the "knots"
which formed an important feature in the gardens of our forefathers.
[Illustration: Fig. 72. Floral Labyrinth (De Vries).]
[Illustration: Fig. 74. Floral Labyrinth (De Vries).]
These devices were composed of various herbs or low shrubs and great
ingenuity was displayed in their fashioning, amongst other forms being
several varieties of labyrinths. The praises of the dwarf box in this
connection were sung by John Parkinson, herbalist to Queen Elizabeth
and King James the First. In his "Paradisus" he mentions it thus: "...
Boxe, which lastly I chiefly and above all other herbs commend
unto you, and being a small, low, or dwarfe kind, is called French or
Dutch Boxe." This plant, he says, "serveth very well to set out any
knot or border out any beds, for besides that it is ever greene, it
being reasonable thicke set, will easily be cut and formed into any
fashion one will, according to the nature thereof, which is to grow
very slowly, and will not in a long time rise to be of any height,
but shooting forth many small branches from the roote, will grow very
thicke and yet not require so great tending, nor so much perish as any
of the former ...," and so on, in typical labyrinthine prose. The use
of dwarf box in this way was not, of course, a novelty in Parkinson's
time. In fact it was used by the Romans to border their paths and the
flower-beds of that little garden in front of the porticoes which went
by the name of the _xystus_.
In the sixteenth century, however, the planting of dwarf shrubs and
herbs in long narrow beds twisted into various complicated figures
seems to have become very fashionable.
Where maze patterns were introduced, a simple, unicursal form was
sometimes followed, but in many instances very elaborate mazes were
executed.
[Illustration: FIG. 73.--Floral Labyrinth. (De Vries.)]
In a few of our libraries are to be found copies of a curious book
of garden designs by Jan Vredeman De Vries, entitled "Hortorum
Viridariorumque Formae," published at Antwerp in 1583. In it are
represented many extraordinary and even fantastic plans for the lay-out
of gardens, including no less than nine in the form of labyrinths.
Some of the latter are designated by titles of a descriptive or of
a quasi-classic character, "La Roue," "Ionica," "Corinthia," and so
forth. We reproduce a few of these designs in Figs. 72, 73 and 74.
Several other horticultural or architectural books of about the same
period also mention labyrinths or figure them in their illustrations,
but it is not clear, in many cases, whether these are intended to
represent garden mazes or the flower-bed labyrinths that we have just
mentioned. In some instances, where the beds were occupied by shrubs,
we have a sort of link between the garden labyrinth and the hedge maze
proper. An illustration in a book of 1573 on the gardens of the Villa
d'Este at Tivoli, dedicated to Catherine de Medici by the author,
Stefano Duperac, shows four rectangular labyrinths, all of the same
pattern. It is unlikely that in such circumstances they would all have
been formed of tall hedges, and we may therefore judge them to have
been of the flower-bed type or perhaps of dwarf box.
We find a reference to the herbal labyrinth in "La Maison Rustique," by
Charles Estienne (Paris, 1573), under the heading of "Kitchen Garden
Planning":
"Et sera bon dresser a ceste fin une planche de sauge ... encore une
de sariette, & hyssope, de cost, de basilic, aspic, baume, pouliot &
une de camomille pour faire les siéges & labyrinthes, que l'on nomme
Daedalus."
One of the best-known and most often quoted of the Tudor gardening
books is that of Thomas Hyll, or Hill, whose work "A moste Briefe and
Pleasaunt Treatyse Teachynge How to Dress, Sowe and Set a Garden"
was published in 1563. It has a captivating charm, especially in the
earlier, black-letter editions. In later editions the name of the
author appears as "Didymus Mountaine" (Didymus = Thomas, Mountaine =
Hill), and the book becomes "The Gardener's Labyrinth."
He published two figures of mazes, which we reproduce as Figs. 75 and
76. In the 1579 edition--"The Profitable Art of Gardening"--they are
respectively placed at the heads of different chapters, the openings of
which are worth quoting:
[Illustration: FIG. 75.--Herbal Labyrinth. (T. Hill, 1579.)]
[Illustration: FIG. 76.--Herbal Labyrinth. (T. Hill, 1579.)]
"Here by the way (Gentle Reader) I do place two proper Mazes, the one
before this Chapter, and the other after, as proper adornments upon
pleasure to a Garden, that who so listeth, having such roomth in their
Garden, may place the one of them, which liketh them best, in that
voide place of the Garden that maye beste be spared for the onelye
purpose, to sporte in them at times, which mazes being workmanly
handled by the Gardner shal much beautifie them in devising four sundry
fruits to be placed in each of the corners of the Maze and in the
middle of it a proper Herber decked with Roses, or else some faire tree
of Rosemary, or other fruits, at the discretion of the Gardener."
"And here, I also place the other Maze, which may be lyke ordered and
used, as I spake before, and it may eyther be set with Isope and Time,
or with winter Savery and Tyme; for these do wel endure all ye winter
through greene. And there be some which set their mazes with Lavender,
Cotton Spike, Majerome and such like. But let them be ordered in this
point, as liketh best the Gardener, and so an end. For I doe not here
set forth this, or the other Maze afore expressed, for any necessarie
commoditie in a Garden, but rather appoint eyther of them (which liketh
you best) as a beautifying unto your Garden: for that Mazes and Knots
aptly made do much set forth a garden which neverthelesse I referre to
your discretion for that not all persons be of like abilitie."
One would have expected to find some word concerning mazes in Lord
Bacon's Essay on Gardening, but, strange to say, he makes no reference
whatever to mazes or labyrinths. He abhorred topiary work. "I, for my
part," he says, "do not like images cut out in juniper or other garden
stuff--they be for children." Mazes he apparently considered unworthy
even of mention.
Hill's square maze reappears, but with a tree at the centre, in another
gardening book which achieved much popularity in the seventeenth
century, namely, "A New Orchard and Garden," by William Lawson (1623),
afterwards published (1638, 1648, etc.), bound up with "A Way to get
Wealth," by Gervase Markham. This is a quaint little publication which
embodies amongst other things a "Table of Hard Words." "Mazes well
framed a man's height," says Lawson (ch. xvii.), "may perhaps make your
friend wander in gathering of berries, till he cannot recover himself
without your help." In the division entitled "The Country Hous-Wife's
Garden" we are told that "The number of Formes, Mazes and Knots is so
great, and Men are so diversly delighted that I leave every House-wife
to her selfe, expecially seeing to set downe many, had been but to fill
much Paper; yet lest I deprive her of all delight and direction, let
her view these few, choice, new Forms, and note these generally, that
all Plots are square, and all are bordered about with Privit, Rasins,
Fea-berries, Roses, Thorne, Rosemary, Bee-flowers, Isop, Sage or such
like."
[Illustration: FIGS. 77, 78.--Maze Designs in Seventeenth Century
Manuscript. (Harley MS.)]
Let us hope that the Hous-Wife whose duty was to prepare and keep in
order these "Choice new Forms" had plenty of time on her hands.
The two mazes included in a tiny book amongst the Harley Manuscripts
(Figs. 77 and 78) were probably intended for flower-bed mazes. The book
consists of a collection of 166 sketches of flower-beds, "knots," etc.,
and probably belonged to some seventeenth-century gardener.
These mazes, like most of the early forms, are of the "unicursal"
type; that is, they have only one path, without loops or branches.
It seems most likely that such mazes would be constructed either of
flower-beds or of some low-growing shrubs, such as box. If constructed
of high hedges the pattern would be invisible, except from a superior
eminence, and they would afford but a poor sort of entertainment to the
visitor, who would have nothing to do but to follow the path until he
came to a full stop, and then retrace his steps. Nevertheless there is
no doubt that some of them were made in this way. On the other hand the
flower-bed labyrinth was not necessarily unicursal, as we may see from
the plans of De Vries.
[Illustration: FIG. 79.--Maze Design by Adam Islip, 1602.]
The actual form of the unicursal type of labyrinth was, in all the
earlier designs, whether circular or square, in very close agreement
with the classic model, but in later designs monotony was avoided by
means of some ingenious modifications. One of the earliest of these is
shown in Fig. 79, which is copied from a very rare book called "The
Orchard and The Garden," gathered from French and Dutch sources and
published by Adam Islip in 1602. Fig. 80 shows one of several specimens
which are given in a Dutch book of about half a century later,
"Nederlantze Hesperides," by J. Commelyn (1676). It is perhaps as
likely, however, that these were intended as designs for a hedge maze,
or "Doolhof," as the Dutch call it.
[Illustration: FIG. 80.--Maze Design by J. Commelyn, 1676.]
The box-edged paths of "Queen Mary's Bower" on the island of
Inchmahome, by the Lake of Menteith, Stirlingshire, may mark the site
of a former dwarf-box labyrinth. Tradition maintains that the maze
was made for Mary Queen of Scots when she was staying there as a
child. The original maze-pattern, if such existed, is lost by reason
of the depredations of relic hunters, who for many years laid the
bower under contribution and so denuded it that it had to be entirely
replanted some fifty or sixty years ago. The box shrubs with which it
was repaired, however, are said to have been taken from the gardens of
Cardross, where they had been reared from cuttings derived from the
original bower. They have now grown to a height of several feet, and
the bower no doubt presents a very different appearance from that which
it had in the days of the ill-starred Mary.
It consists of a winding box-bordered walk leading to a central
thorn-bush, the whole affair being oval in outline, about thirty
yards in circumference and surrounded by a paling. Close at hand, and
enclosed within a square stone wall, is Queen Mary's garden, containing
at the centre an old box tree which is affirmed to have been planted by
the little princess herself.
Another Scottish relic which is said to mark the site of an old terrace
maze is that near Stirling Castle, known since the fourteenth century
as the "Round Tabill" or the "King's Knot."
There is a "Queen Mary's Bower," by the way, in the gardens at Hampton
Court, but this is only a straight walk shaded by an avenue of
pollarded elms, which forms a sort of verdant tunnel. It is situated at
the summit of a bank rising above one side of the King's Privy Garden.
An old tower planted with shrubs at Chatsworth bears the same name.
We shall have occasion to refer to "bowers" again later on, in another
connection. The present mention of them forms a convenient transition
from the subject of garden labyrinths to that of _hedge mazes_.
CHAPTER XIV
THE TOPIARY LABYRINTH, OR HEDGE MAZE
The art of trimming hedges of evergreens is of great antiquity;
probably it is almost as old as horticulture itself.
The Romans made much use of the services of the _topiarius_, or
hedge-trimmer--he is referred to by Cicero and other writers--and it
is quite possible that they had shrubs or bushes trained to enclose
winding paths in the manner of a hedge maze.
In Pliny's "Natural History" (Book XVI, Ch. 33) the cypress is spoken
of as being clipped and trimmed to form hedges or lengthened out in
various designs for ornamental purposes. In Book XV he tells us that
a shrub called _taxa_ is also used in ornamental gardening, from
which we might conclude that the yew (_taxus_) was intended. From the
description in the context, however, it is more likely that Pliny was
speaking of a plant something like our "butcher's broom" (_Ruscus
aculeatus_). He also mentions the box and a species of laurel as being
suitable for this kind of work.
A hint of something like a hedge maze is given in one of the epistles
of the younger Pliny, where he describes the gardens of his _villa_
in Tuscany. He speaks of having a _hippodromus_, a kind of circus
consisting of many paths separated by box hedges and ornamented with
topiary work.
We do not, however, find any actual description of an indubitable
hedge maze in the works of the classic writers. Amongst monastic
manuscripts of the middle ages occur a few passages which have been
thought to refer to something of the kind. For instance Henry, Abbot of
Clairvaux, in speaking metaphorically of labyrinthine entanglements,
says, "Non habent certos aditus, semitas ambulant circulares, et in
quodam fraudium labyrintho monstra saevissima reconduntur" ("They have
no definite approaches, but wander about in circular sidetracks, and
most savage monsters are concealed in their labyrinth of deceptions");
but he may very well have been alluding simply to the traditional
Cretan Labyrinth and not to actual constructions of his own period.
A perhaps more striking passage is that in a "History of the Counts of
Guines, A.D. 800 to 1200," by Lambert of Ardres (_Lambertus Ardensis_),
who lived in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. Speaking of the
building of a large residence at Ardres for Count Arnold, in the
twelfth century, he says:
"Quam quidem Broburgensis artifex vel carpentarius, in hujus artis
ingenio parum discrepans a Dedalo fabrefecit et carpentavit nomina
Lodevicus et de ea fere inextricabilem fecit laberinthum et effigiavit,
penus penori, cameram camerae, diversorium diversorio concludens ...";
that is to say, a certain workman named Louis of Bourbourg, with a
skill in woodwork very little different from that of Daedalus, was
employed in building the house and made there a nearly inextricable
labyrinth, containing recess within recess, room within room, turning
within turning. Here again the description hardly answers to that of a
hedge maze, but rather indicates an elaborate architectural structure
and probably refers to nothing more than a large wooden house.
The common belief that our own King Henry II concealed his paramour
"the fair Rosamond" within a maze at Woodstock may possibly, as
sceptical historians aver, have no firmer foundations than that
afforded by the imaginative efforts of mediaeval romancers, but from
what we have just quoted it is evident that contrivances of the kind
described in the legend may have been in existence not only in Henry's
time but even in the previous century. In view of the great popularity
of the story throughout succeeding generations we cannot altogether
ignore it, but we will discuss it more conveniently in a later chapter.
The maze was introduced into the Low Countries, according to a book on
Architecture in Belgium, some time during the thirteenth century, but
this statement may be merely an inference from Lambert's History quoted
above.
In France, as we have already seen, the pavement labyrinths were
sometimes known as "dédales" or "maisons de Dédalus," in reference of
course to the "house" built by Daedalus for the Minotaur, and in the
fourteenth and fifteenth centuries we find the same titles applied to
mazes formed of shrubs. Charles V, in the fourteenth century, is said
to have laid out a _maison de Dédale_ in the gardens of the Hôtel de
St. Paul in Paris.
Of interest on this point is an Order of the Court of the Duchy of
Anjou, dated September 18, 1477, in which the people of the Duchy were
required to pay twelve _livres_ to the keeper of King Réné's castle at
Baugé "pour la nourriture des ouyseaux et nestoyer les espèces qu'il a
en garde ... et _reffaire le Dédalus_ qui est és jardrins dudit lieu de
Baugé."
We also read of a _dédalus_ in the park of Louise de Savoie in 1513.
A sixteenth-century maze is depicted in a landscape by Tintoretto which
is exhibited in the Queen's Private Chamber at Hampton Court Palace
(No. 524 [787]). In the centre of the maze are seen four ladies seated
at a table, their attendants standing by. In the background is the
palace to which the maze and surrounding pleasure-grounds evidently
appertain.
Hans Holbein, an early contemporary of Tintoretto, is also said to have
painted a maze of this description.
Many mazes at that time were planned by the Italian architect Serlio,
one of whose designs is shown in Fig. 81.
[Illustration: FIG. 81.--Maze Design by J. Serlio (Sixteenth Century).]
The late sixteenth century furnishes abundant evidence of the growing
taste for the topiary labyrinth in the architectural works of Androuet
du Cerceau, one of the great builders of the French Renaissance and
architect to Catherine de Medici. We are bound to say, however, that
the assertion of Horace Walpole, in his "Essay on Modern Gardening," to
the effect that in Du Cerceau's works there is scarcely a ground plot
without both a round and a square maze, is not borne out by reference
to such editions as are generally available.
Du Cerceau's sketches of the mazes at Charleval and in the Palace
garden of the Archbishop of Rouen at Gaillon--with modifications
necessitated by the extreme roughness of the original blocks--are shown
in Figs. 82, 83 and 84.
[Illustration: FIG. 82.--Maze at Charleval. (After Du Cerceau.)]
[Illustration: FIGS. 83 and 84.--Mazes at Gaillon. (After Du Cerceau.)]
One of the best-known gardens of the Elizabethan period was that
made about 1560 for Lord Burleigh, or Burghley, at Theobalds in
Hertfordshire. It was described by a contemporary as being "large and
square, having all its walls covered with Sillery and a beautiful _jet
d'eau_ in the centre." At the end was a small mount called the Mount of
Venus, placed in the midst of a labyrinth, "upon the whole, one of the
most beautiful spots in the world." The house and gardens, John Evelyn
tells us in his Memoirs, under date April 15, 1643, were "demolish'd by
the rebels."
A plan of this labyrinth is shown in Fig. 85. Theobalds was afterwards
transferred by Burleigh's son, the Earl of Salisbury, to King James the
First, in exchange for another noble seat in the same county, Hatfield
House, still held by the present Marquis of Salisbury.
[Illustration: FIG. 85.--Maze at Theobalds, Herts. (After Trollope.)]
In the grounds to the rear of the latter mansion is to be seen at the
present day one of the finest examples of a hedge maze, which, although
of fairly modern construction, probably replaced an earlier specimen.
Our photograph, Fig. 86 (see Frontispiece), was taken, by kind
permission, from the roof of Hatfield House. The hedge is of tall,
thick yew throughout, and is perfectly formed, without any of those
thin, straggly growths in the lower portion which, by tempting the
unscrupulous maze-trotter to burst through them, soon necessitate
renewal or unsightly patching.
The maze is 174 ft. in length and 108 ft. in width, and has two
entrances (or exits), one at each end. The basin which formerly
occupied the centre was replaced some years ago by a block of yew
surmounted by topiary figures. Fig. 87 shows the maze in plan.
[Illustration: FIG. 87.--Maze at Hatfield House, Herts. Plan. (W. H.
M.)]
From the beautifully turfed level above the maze, or from the parterre
terrace above that, one can overlook the hedges and enjoy, if so
inclined, occasional glimpses of ensnared and perplexed visitors.
The type of hedge maze exemplified here, in which the paths are bounded
by hedges of uniform thickness, is only one development. Another type
arose in the late seventeenth century in which serpentinous footpaths
penetrated blocks of shrubs or dense thickets. In some cases limes or
hornbeams were "plashed," _i.e._, their branches were so trained and
intertwined as to form a continuous wall of verdure. In other cases
the intervals between the paths were filled with loose aggregations
of flowering shrubs and evergreens; such an arrangement as this was
usually termed a "wilderness." (The term "plashing," by the way, should
not be confused with "pleaching," which merely signified the process of
ordinary trimming).
In practically all types of maze it became the fashion to relieve the
monotony of the walks by placing statues, vases, seats, fountains, and
other ornaments at various points. This kind of thing reached a climax
of extravagance in the latter part of the seventeenth century, when J.
Hardouin-Mansart constructed for Louis XIV the famous labyrinth in the
smaller park at Versailles. This labyrinth is described in a book, now
very rare, entitled "Labyrinte de Versailles," by C. Perrault, printed
at the royal press, Paris, in 1677, and illustrated by Sebastien le
Clerc. Our illustrations, Figs. 88, 89, 90 and 91, are selected from
the book in question and show respectively the plan of the labyrinth
and three of the thirty-nine groups of hydraulic statuary representing
the fables of Aesop. At the entrance to the labyrinth were placed
symbolical statues of Aesop and Cupid, the latter holding in one hand
a ball of thread. Each of the speaking characters represented in the
fable groups emitted a jet of water, representing speech, and each
group was accompanied by an engraved plate displaying more or less
appropriate verses by the poet de Benserade.
[Illustration: FIG. 89.--Labyrinth of Versailles. Fable Group: "The
Hare and the Tortoise." (Perrault.)]
[Illustration: Fig. 88. Labyrinth of Versailles. (Perrault)]
[Illustration: FIG. 90.--Labyrinth of Versailles. Fable Group: "The Fox
and the Crow." (Perrault.)]
[Illustration: FIG. 91.--Labyrinth of Versailles. Fable Group: "The
Snake and the Porcupine." (Perrault.)]
We reproduce le Clerc's engravings of the groups illustrating
respectively the fables of "The Hare and the Tortoise," "The Fox
and the Crow," and "The Snake and the Porcupine." The water for all
these elaborate waterworks was conveyed from the Seine by a wonderful
contrivance called the "Machine de Marli," constructed by Swalm
Renkin between 1675 and 1682. It is said to have cost the equivalent of
£8,000,000 and contained fourteen water-wheels driving 253 pumps, some
of which worked at a distance of three-quarters of a mile.
[Illustration: Fig. 93. Labyrinth at Choisy-le-Roi. (Blondel)]
[Illustration: Fig. 94. Labyrinth at Chantilly. (Blondel)]
The labyrinth was destroyed in 1775 and its site is now occupied by the
"Bosquet de la Reine."
The "Dial-garden" at Friar Park, Henley-on-Thames, is laid out on the
plan of the Versailles labyrinth, but in place of the statuary groups
are thirty-nine sun-dials, each having its motto or epigram. Adjoining
it is a maze of original and ingenious design.
The Versailles example was only one of several well-known mazes which
existed in or around Paris at that time. Evelyn, who spent some years
in Paris, from 1643 onwards, remarks on the design and trimness of
the box-hedge designs in the gardens of the Luxembourg and on the
"labyrinth of cypresse" at the Tuileries, no doubt designed by Du
Cerceau (Fig. 92). In another account of the Tuileries labyrinth,
however, it is described as being made entirely of bent cherry trees.
It was ultimately swept away by Le Nôtre to make room for enlarged
parterres.
There is still a labyrinth in the Jardin des Plantes, formerly the
Jardin du Roi, but it is of rather feeble design.
Another noted French maze was that constructed by M. Gabriel at
Choisy-le-Roi (Fig. 93). One was designed for the gardens of Chantilly
by Le Nôtre, but exists to-day only as an engraving on a stone in
the park (Fig. 94). Madame de Sévigné, in a letter of June 1, 1689,
mentions one at Les Rochers, her seat in Brittany, and we read of one
at Sceaux on the occasion of a fête given to Louis XIV and Madame de
Maintenon in 1685.
[Illustration: FIG. 92.--Labyrinth at the Tuileries. (After Du
Cerceau.)]
In most European countries the fashion had obtained a hold either
before or during the seventeenth century, and we can usually be sure
of finding a few drawings of mazes in any horticultural book of that
period.
[Illustration: FIGS. 97 and 98.--Mazes by G. A. Boeckler, 1664.]
[Illustration: Figs. 95 and 96. Maze Designs by André Mollet, 1651.]
Figs. 95 and 96 show two examples given in "Le Jardin de Plaisir,"
by André Mollet, the royal gardener at Stockholm, in 1651. Figs. 97
to 106 show some very ingenious designs selected from a great number
which accompany the drawings of castles and great houses in Germany
and elsewhere, contained in the "Architectura curiosa nova" of G. A.
Boeckler, 1664.
[Illustration: FIGS. 99 and 100.--Mazes by G. A. Boeckler, 1664.]
[Illustration: FIGS. 101 and 102.--Mazes by G. A. Boeckler, 1664.]
One of these (Fig. 105) is rather suggestive of the Saffron Walden turf
maze, whilst another (Fig. 101) is reminiscent of the Rheims pavement
labyrinth. At Enghien, in Belgium, the gardens of the château where the
Duke of Arenburg entertained Voltaire contained a maze, as well as a
"mechanical island" and various other horticultural toys.
[Illustration: FIGS. 103 and 104.--Mazes by G. A. Boeckler, 1664.]
In Spain, as elsewhere, the hedge maze attained great popularity. In
the magnificent gardens of the Alcazar at Seville may still be seen the
labyrinth laid out in the sixteenth century for the Emperor Charles V,
with tiled paths and fountains, and adjoining this is a hedge maze of
roughly hexagonal outline enclosed within an irregular rectangle.
[Illustration: FIGS. 105 and 106.--Mazes by G. A. Boeckler, 1664.]
[Illustration: Fig. 107. Maze at Gunterstein, Holland. (N. Visscher,
1719)]
[Illustration: Fig. 108. Gunterstein. Plan of Gardens, showing Maze.
(N. Visscher, 1719)]
[Illustration: Fig. 109. Gardens at Loo, Holland, with Mazes. (W.
Harris, 1699.)]
As regards Italy, we read that even the Pope himself, Clement X,
took pleasure in watching the endeavours of his domestics to extricate
themselves from the maze of tall box hedges which adorned his garden at
Altieri. Evelyn, in 1646, describing his visit to Vicenza, remarks of
the gardens of Count Ulmarini, or Vilmarini, outside the town, "Here is
likewise a most inextricable labyrinth."
Sir Philip Skippon, describing his own visit to Vicenza in 1663, refers
to the gardens as those of Count Valmarana, and mentions "a labyrinth
of myrtle hedges." Skippon also speaks of labyrinths in the gardens of
the Duke of Bavaria at Munich.
The Dutch gardeners made a great feature of the _doolhof_, typical
examples being those at the Duke of Portland's château at Sorgvliet,
near the Hague, at Gunterstein (Figs. 107 and 108), and at the Palace
of Loo, the Dutch home of William and Mary (Fig. 109). Our illustration
of the last-named is taken from Dr. W. Harris's book "The King's
Palace and Gardens at Loo" (1699). It will be seen that the maze to
the left is described as a "wilderness," as is also the structure to
the extreme right, but whereas the latter certainly presents little
of a labyrinthine appearance, the former is evidently a hedge maze,
although perhaps loosely drawn. Harris uses the terms "maze" and
"wilderness" interchangeably. He says that the King's labyrinth was
formed of clipped hedges with sandy walks between, while the Queen's
was decorated with fountains and statues. William the Third exercised
his taste for this kind of embellishment also in the grounds of his
English palaces. His gardeners, George London and Henry Wise, have left
us one which, although of no great complexity, has become world-famous,
namely, the specimen which forms part of the "Wilderness" in the
gardens of Hampton Court Palace.
CHAPTER XV
THE TOPIARY LABYRINTH, OR HEDGE MAZE (_continued_)
The Hampton Court maze (Fig. 110) was constructed in 1690 and in all
probability displaced an older maze, a relic of Wolsey's time. The maze
is situated close to the Bushy Park entrance. Defoe speaks of it as a
"labrynth," and tells us that the "Wilderness," of which it forms part,
replaced the old orchard of the palace.
It is of no great complexity, but, as may be seen from Fig. 111, is of
a neat and symmetrical pattern, with quite sufficient of the puzzle
about it to sustain interest and to cause amusement but without a
needless and tedious excess of intricacy. The area occupied by it is
rather more than a quarter of an acre--not a great amount of space, but
enough to accommodate about half a mile of total pathway. The longest
side of the maze measures 222 ft.
Various diagrams of the maze have been published, some of them very
incorrect and therefore misleading. Our sketch was made on the spot
and represents at any rate the present (1922) disposition of the paths
and hedges. The gate almost opposite the entrance should normally be
closed. It is for the purpose of affording the gardener or attendant
direct access to the "goal" and its approaches, or occasionally for
facilitating the release of impatient visitors; if left open it spoils
the fun. The goal is provided with two bench seats, each shaded by a
leafy tree.
[Illustration:
[_Photo: G. F. Green_
Fig. 110. Maze at Hampton Court.]
[Illustration:
[_Photo: G. F. Green_
Fig. 113. "The Little Maze."]
The hedge was at first composed entirely of hornbeam, but, like most of
its kind, it has required renewal at various points from time to time,
and this has not always been carried out with the appropriate material.
The result, as may be seen in our photograph, is a patchwork of privet,
hornbeam, yew, holly, hawthorn and sycamore. It is nevertheless
questionable whether the lack of uniformity in this respect causes any
grief to the bulk of its visitors. The maze is as popular as ever, and
in the financial year 1919-20 brought in a revenue of nearly £775,
which exceeded the estimate of the Office of Works by £325!
[Illustration: FIG. 111.--Maze at Hampton Court. Plan. (W. H. M.)]
Long may it remain! It may be a sad sight to the "highbrows" of
horticulture, but to the unsophisticated many it is a never-failing
source of innocent merriment. Those who incline to deplore the
perpetuation of these "topiary toys" should spend an hour or two in the
Hampton Court maze on a sunny holiday and witness the undiluted delight
which it affords to scores and hundreds of children, not to mention a
fair sprinkling of their elders.
The circular Troy-town or "Plan-de-Troy," formed of tall espaliers,
which formerly co-existed with the present maze (see Fig. 112), has
long been replaced by a sunken rockery, the path of which, however, is
of a very meandering character and has earned from visitors the title
of "The Little Maze" (Fig. 113). A topiary work of similar title, "The
Siege of Troy," was one of William's pet horticultural adornments at
Kensington Palace. It is said to have been a verdant representation of
military defence works, cut yew and variegated holly being "taught,"
as Walpole says, "to imitate the lines, angles, bastions, scarps and
counter-scarps of regular fortifications."
[Illustration: FIG. 112.--Hampton Court. The "Wilderness," with Maze
and "Plan-de-Troy," in Eighteenth Century. (Engraving by J. Rocque,
1736.)]
[Illustration: Fig. 116. Maze Design by Batty Langley (from _New
Principles of Gardening_, 1728).]
[Illustration: Fig. 115. Maze Design by Batty Langley. (from _New
Principles of Gardening_, 1728)]
The rather curious unicursal maze of three meanders shown in Fig. 114
is usually, _e.g._, in the "Encyclopaedia Britannica," attributed
to London and Wise, and certainly it appears in a book which was
issued by them in 1706 under the title of "The Solitary Gardiner"
(subsequently published by Joseph Carpenter as "The Retir'd Gardner"),
but this work is mainly a translation from an earlier French book, "Le
Jardinier Solitaire," by Louis Liger of Auxerre, in which also the
figure appears. Various other horticultural writers of the period make
use of the same design.
[Illustration: FIG. 114.--Labyrinth Design by L. Liger (circ. 1700).]
"A Labyrinth," says the text, "is a Place cut into several Windings,
set off with Horn-beam, to divide them from one another.... The most
valuable Labyrinths are always those that wind most, as that of
Versailles, the contrivance of which has been wonderfully lik'd by all
that have seen it" (_chacun à son goût!_). "The Palisades, of which
Labyrinths ought to be compos'd, should be ten, twelve, or fifteen foot
high; some there are that are no higher than one can lean on, but those
are not the finest. The Walls of a Labyrinth ought to be kept roll'd,
and the Horn-beams in them shear'd, in the shape of Half-moons."
As for the allurements of the much-winding labyrinths of the
Versailles type the reader will no doubt form his own opinion. Their
popularity at that time is demonstrated by the great number of designs
of this nature which we find in such books as, for example, those of
Batty Langley, a few of whose plans we reproduce (Figs. 115 and 116).
An example of the "block" type of labyrinth was that at Trinity
College, Oxford, of which a view is seen in an early eighteenth-century
engraving (Fig. 117), from the "Oxonia depicta" of W. Williams. It
was destroyed in 1813. Similar arrangements appear in several of the
engravings of country seats, _e.g._, those of Belvoir Castle, Boughton,
and Exton Park, in J. Kip's "Britannia Illustrata," 1724. In this work
also appear mazes of the more familiar type, as, for example, in the
engravings of Badminton and Wrest Park (Fig. 118).
The idea of Batty Langley and of the Versailles artist seems to have
been not so much that of puzzling the visitor as of providing an
entertaining and diversified promenade, but with many maze-architects
the object was to provide as much bewilderment as the space available
permitted. This is frankly avowed by Stephen Switzer in his somewhat
tedious "Ichnographia Rustica," published in 1742. He gives the design
shown in Fig. 119, and describes it as "a labyrinth of single hedges or
banks, _after the ancient manner_."
[Illustration: Fig. 117. Gardens of Trinity College, Oxford, with
Labyrinth. (W. Williams, 1732).]
He speaks of the object of a labyrinth as being to provide "an
intricate and difficult Labour to find out the Centre, and to be (as
the Vulgar commonly like it for) so intricate, as to lose one's self
therein, and to meet with as great a Number of Stops therein and
Disappointments as possible; I thought the best way to accomplish it
was to make a dubious Choice of which way to take at the very Entrance
and Beginning it self, in order to find out the Centre, at which we are
to end at B. into a little Arbour cradled over; for which Reason there
is in the very first coming in, in the Centre, where the Grass-Plot
and Statue are design'd at A. six different Entrances whereof there
is but one that leads to the centre and that is attended with some
difficulties and a great many stops."
He might have added, "... like unto my own literary style."
[Illustration: FIG. 119.--Maze Design by S. Switzer (1742).]
A labyrinth of a most fantastic character is said to have occupied a
large area in the palace garden of the Prince of Anhalt, in Germany. It
was allegorical and was intended to typify the course of human life.
It was composed not only of hedges, but of rocks and trees, streams
and caverns, and tortuous deeply cut paths, which were for the most
part covered in, with very scanty illumination. At every other turn
the visitor was pulled up by some puzzling or terrifying allegory, or
some didactic inscription after the manner of those which adorn the
rocks at Tilly Whim, on the Dorset coast. By way of compensation he
was refreshed here and there by the sight of a choice example of the
sculptor's art, or a flowery dell, or some verdurous presentation of
the architect's idea of Elysium. As in the case of Versailles, expense
seems to have been no obstacle.
At H.M. Records Office is preserved in "Survey No. 72" a rather
pathetic document headed "A Survey of the Manor of Wymbledon _alias_
Wimbleton, with the Rights, Members and Appurtenances thereof, lying
and being in the Countie of Surrey, late Parcell of the Possessions of
Henrietta Maria, the Relict and late Queene of Charles Stuart, late
King of England, made and taken ... in the Moneth of November 1649." A
transcript of the document was communicated to "Archaeologia" in 1792
by John Caley, F.A.S., the following portion being worth noting in
connection with our present subject:
"... On the South syde of the sayd turfed tarras there are planted one
great maze, and one wilderness, which being severed with one gravelled
Alley, in or near to the midle of the sayd turfed tarras, sets forth
the maze to lie towards the east, and the wilderness towards the west;
the maze consists of young trees, wood and sprayes of a good growth and
height, cutt into severall meanders, circles, semicircles, wyndings
and intricate turnings, the walks or intervalls whereof are all grass
plotts; this maze, as it is now ordered, adds very much to the worth
of the upper levell ... which maze and wilderness over and besides the
trees thereof, which are hereafter valewed amongst the other trees of
the sayd upper garden and the materialls of the sayd two shadowe or
summer houses, wee valew to bee worth £90.0.0."
Whether the maze referred to was afterwards destroyed is not clear, but
possibly it was preserved and was identical with that mentioned by the
writer of the "Encyclopaedia Britannica" article as having formerly
existed at Wimbledon House, the seat of Earl Spencer, which was
conjectured to have been laid out by Brown in the eighteenth century.
("Capability" Brown, we may note, was no lover of mazes, though his
official residence at Hampton Court adjoined the maze.)
[Illustration: Fig. 118. Wrest Park, Bedfordshire, with two Mazes. (J.
Kip, 1720)]
There are records of various other old mazes in the immediate
vicinity of London, apart from the "tea-garden" mazes of the last
century. Pepys in 1666 speaks of "several labyrinths" in the gardens of
Lord Brooke at Hackney, and Evelyn in 1700 mentions mazes at Marden,
Surrey. Sutton Court also contained a fine example.
There was one in Tothill (or Tuttle) Fields, Westminster, in the
seventeenth century, and perhaps earlier, for it is mentioned with
familiarity in a play written by John Cooke in 1614, "Greene's Tu
Quoque; or the Cittie Gallant; a Play of Much Humour," wherein one of
the characters challenges another to a duel:
_Staines._ I accept it; the meeting place?
_Spendall._ Beyond the Maze in Tuttle.
The maze was renovated or remade in 1672, as shown by an entry in the
Churchwardens' Accounts of St. Margaret, Westminster:
"_Item_, to Mr. William Brewer, for making a maze in
Tuttlefields £2.0.0."
It was well known to John Aubrey, the antiquary and naturalist whose
reference to turf mazes we have already quoted. In his "Remaines,"
1686-7, he says:
"There is a maze at this day in Tuthill Fields, Westminster, & much
frequented in summer-time in fair afternoons."
According to Mr. J. E. Smith's "Parochial Memorials of St. John the
Baptist, Westminster," Tothill Fields were at one time known as
"Tuttle-in-the-Maze."
In the large view of London and Westminster engraved by Wenceslaus
Hollar (1607-1677) there is shown in the middle of Tothill Fields a
clump of trees surrounding a sort of shelter, like a band-stand, but no
sort of labyrinthine design is visible.
Another London maze mentioned by Aubrey, and one which has left its
remembrance in the present-day nomenclature of the locality (Maze
Pond), is that of Southwark. "At Southwarke," says Aubrey, "was a Maze
which is converted into Buildings bearing that name."
In another place he says, "On the south side of Tooley-street a little
westward from Burnaby-street is a Street called the MAES or MAZE,
Eastward from the Borough (another name for Labyrinth). I believe
we received these Mazes from our Danish Ancestors...." This latter
observation is one which seems to have been entirely overlooked by
subsequent archaeologists and antiquaries, but its significance will be
seen when we come to consider the subject of "stone labyrinths."
It is clear from the last phrase, that in this case Aubrey had in mind
turf mazes rather than hedge mazes, and we are in doubt as to whether
the Southwark maze was of the former or the latter species.
The Abbot of Battle had a residence there after the dissolution of
the monasteries, and it has been stated that he had a maze in his
garden, or, alternatively, that his garden paths were laid out in such
an intricate manner as to suggest the name. But there are records of
the name being applied to the locality before the dissolution of the
monasteries, and it is quite possible that there was once a turf maze
in the neighbourhood, perhaps before the abbot's time. According to a
footnote in Strickland's "Lives of the Queens of England," the maze in
Southwark once formed part of the garden of the Princess Mary Tudor,
but the authority for this statement is not quoted.
Maze Hill, Greenwich, is said to derive its name from the former
existence of a maze, traces of which are claimed to have been found
near the entrance to Morden College, Blackheath. The name was formerly
spelt Maize Hill and at one time Mease or Meaze Hill. We shall have
a word to say about place-names towards the end of this book, but we
may remark in passing that inferences as to the past existence of an
object based solely upon a current homonymous place-name are obviously
unsound.
CHAPTER XVI
THE TOPIARY LABYRINTH, OR HEDGE MAZE (_continued_)
_Latter-day Developments_
Towards the end of the eighteenth century the taste for mazes in
private gardens had to some extent declined, but as an adjunct to
places of public amusement the topiary labyrinth was still in great
demand.
"Pleasure gardens" of the Ranelagh and Vauxhall type were then greatly
in vogue, not only in the metropolis but in most of the fashionable
health resorts, and, although it is only in comparatively few cases
that we have definite records of their having possessed a maze, there
is no doubt that very many were in existence, though probably most have
since disappeared.
A favourite resort with dwellers in the north of London, up to about
a century ago, was White Conduit House, in Islington, and here a maze
formed one of the principal attractions.
In Harrow Road, N.W., No. 6 Chichester Place marks the site of a minor
public garden called "The Maze," which flourished up to about the
middle of last century.
Another northern pleasure garden which is recorded as possessing a maze
was "New Georgia," in Turners Wood, near the Spaniards, Hampstead.
South of the Thames the celebrated Beulah Spa had a maze, which,
together with that at Hampton Court, is referred to by Dickens in his
"Sketches by Boz."
Other well-known "tea-garden" mazes are those at the Crystal Palace and
at the Rosherville Gardens, Gravesend.
A maze was erected at the request of the Prince Consort, in or about
the year 1862, in the gardens of the Royal Horticultural Society at
South Kensington. It was designed by Lieut. W. H. Nesfield, R.N., who
relinquished a naval career to become a very successful gardener. Fig.
120 shows the plan of this maze as given in the R.H.S. official guide
to the gardens in 1864. A statue of Galatea adorned the "goal."
This plan differs in some respects from Nesfield's original design,
which was slightly simpler and provided for a central fountain and
basin. The figure which illustrates the "Britannica" article--and
which has been copied into a popular book on puzzles, accompanied by
the remark that it is "a feeble thing"--unfortunately departs from the
official plan in certain small but important details; it allows of an
almost direct passage from a third external opening to the circular
goal. The maze ultimately went to ruin and its site has long been built
upon.
The maze in the beautiful little gardens at Saffron Walden which were
presented to the public nearly a century ago by Mr. L. Fry, M.P., and
are known as Bridge End Gardens, is still in excellent condition,
although suffering in places from the illicit short-cuts made by
impatient visitors. It is locally believed to be a replica of that at
Hampton Court, but is of very different plan and is, in fact, much
more elaborate. Our photographs, Figs. 121 and 122, were taken from
the pulpit-like erection at one end of the central enclosure, looking
roughly towards the south and the north respectively.
It will be noticed that a person standing on the erection is precluded
from mapping out the maze therefrom, by reason of the tall topiary
upgrowths at various points, designed, no doubt, with this object. This
maze is situated within a few hundred yards of the turf maze which we
noticed in a previous chapter.
[Illustration: FIG. 120.--Maze by W. H. Nesfield, in R.H.S. Gardens,
South Kensington, circ. 1862. (From R.H.S. Guide.)]
Another modern hedge maze in the same county is that in the grounds of
Mistley Place, Manningtree, the residence of E. M. Jackson, Esq., M.A.,
who has kindly furnished the writer with some details concerning it.
The maze was planted about fifty years ago, but unfortunately the
choice of material was not of the most judicious, for, while the major
portion is of beech, young oaks were planted in the outer circle and
these have now grown up into large trees, overshadowing and ruining
the neighbouring portions of the hedge, so that it is now difficult to
trace the plan. Only the inner circles remain complete.
In the adjacent county of Suffolk there is another maze of about the
same age but of very different pattern, at Somerleyton Hall, the seat
of Lord Somerleyton (Fig. 123). The hedges in this case are of yew
and are of great thickness, about six or seven feet in height. At the
points marked "A" are situated two beautiful golden Irish yews. Clipped
yews provide interesting variety at the points marked "B," and a little
pagoda crowns the central knoll, approached by grassy ramps.
There is a hexagonal maze, of some complexity, in the splendid gardens
of the Hon. J. Egerton Warburton at Arley Hall, Cheshire. It is formed
of lime trees, planted about half a century ago.
We may also mention one, of circular and rather simple though
distinctive design, at Belton House, the residence of Earl Brownlow,
near Grantham, Lincolnshire.
In Gloucestershire there is one in the grounds of Sudeley Castle, the
home of H. D. Brocklehurst, Esq., J.P., where, according to Kelly's
county directory, "the old pleasaunce, with its paths and fountain, was
discovered in 1850 and now forms part of the garden."
In Nottinghamshire there is one, planted by Colonel Thos. Coke in the
'fifties, at Debdale Hall, Mansfield Woodhouse (F. N. Ellis, Esq.,
J.P.).
Mr. W. W. Rouse Ball, in his "Mathematical Recreations and Essays,"
gives a drawing of an elaborate maze which he has erected in his own
garden, presumably at Cambridge.
[Illustration:
[_Photo: W. H. M._
Fig. 121. Maze in Bridge End Gardens, Saffron Walden, looking South.]
[Illustration:
[_Photo: W. H. M._
Fig. 122. Maze in Bridge End Gardens, Saffron Walden, looking North.]
Possibly there are many others in the seclusion of large country
gardens, but, as the owners of such contrivances are inclined to
consider them as relics of a bygone and discredited fashion, it is
only by chance or by individual enquiries that information concerning
them can be obtained, and it is of course impracticable to take an
unofficial census on such a matter. It may be taken as probable,
however, that all the most notable examples have been enumerated above.
[Illustration: FIG. 123.--Maze at Somerleyton Hall, Suffolk. (W. H. M.,
from sketch by G. F. G.)]
In continental countries the occurrence of mazes is as sporadic
as at home. There are said to be some excellent specimens in the
neighbourhood of Barcelona, fragrant, aromatic, and flowering shrubs
being a characteristic feature of their composition.
As regards Italy, Mr. Inigo Triggs, in his description of the
Castellezo dei Arconati, near Milan ("The Art of Garden Design in
Italy"), mentions two "labyrinths," one of which is an extensive work
of closely cut hornbeam, partly laid out as a circular maze, whilst the
other has a number of small enclosures and alcoves with fountains.
In France well-known mazes are those at the Priory of St. Michel, Toul,
called _la Tour du Diable_, and at the Abbaye aux Dames, Caen, as well
as the rather poor specimen at the Jardin des Plantes in Paris, to
which we have already alluded.
A description of the popular Tivoli Gardens in Vienna, towards the
close of the last century, refers to a labyrinth situated below a
terrace from which spectators could observe the alarms and excursions
of the enmeshed maze-trotters.
In the United States, where very few of the embellishments of bygone
Europe have failed to achieve reproduction, there is a replica, with
some slight modifications, of the Hampton Court maze. This is situated
at Waltham, Massachusetts, on the property of Miss Cornelia Warren.
It was planted in 1896, and is formed of thick hedges of arbor vitae,
about a thousand shrubs being employed. The plan follows that of its
original model, but the sharp rear angles of the Hampton Court design
are replaced by rounded curves, and the hedges adjacent to the central
space, which is also rounded, are correspondingly modified.
There is a pond at the centre and a rustic rostrum stands before
the entrance. The shortest route to the centre is said to be about
one-fifth of a mile in length and the total length of the paths about
one-third of a mile.
A large hedge maze is also to be found at a place called Cedar
Hill--and no doubt there are many others.
The decline in favour of the maze amongst gardeners of repute during
the latter part of the eighteenth century is possibly to be accounted
for in great part as the natural revulsion from the surfeit of
elaborate designs produced in the preceding periods.
"In designing a garden," wrote Lord Kames (Henry Home), "everything
trivial or whimsical ought to be avoided. Is a labyrinth therefore to
be justified? It is a mere conceit, like that of composing verses in
the shape of an axe or an egg: the walks and hedges may be agreeable,
but in the form of a labyrinth they serve to no end but to puzzle; a
riddle is a conceit not so mean, because the solution is a proof of
sagacity, which affords no aid to tracing a labyrinth."
This was in his "Elements of Criticism," a work of which Dr. Johnson
remarked: "Sir, this book is a pretty essay and deserves to be held
in some estimation, though much of it is chimerical." The idea that
sagacity affords no aid in tracing a labyrinth is certainly chimerical,
as we shall see, but persons who incline to austerity in art will have
little hesitation in agreeing with the other remarks of Lord Kames,
even where, further on, he says: "The gardens of Versailles, executed
with boundless expense by the best artists of the age, are a lasting
monument of a taste the most depraved." Since Lord Kames's time,
however, the gardens of Versailles have been subjected to considerable
alteration, and at the present day form one of the greatest charms of
the environs of Paris.
The contemporary French poet Delille, author of "Les Jardins, ou l'Art
d'embellir les Paysages," was voicing the feelings of the times when he
wrote:
"Des longs alignements si je hais la tristesse,
Je hais bien plus encore le cours embarrassé
D'un sentier qui, pareil à ce serpent blessé,
En replis convulsifs sans cesse s'entrelace.
De détours redoublés m'inquiète, me lasse,
Et, sans variété, brusque et capricieux,
Tourmente et le terrain et mes pas et mes yeux."
From that time onwards the hedge maze has been the object of much
condemnatory criticism and contemptuous reference, sometimes grounded
on a certain amount of reason, but often enough of the follow-my-leader
type.
Even at the present time there are not wanting gardeners of influence
who would view with equanimity the entire disappearance of this
convoluted mass of evergreens which dares to offer its antiquated
charms in competition with their latest floricultural triumphs.
And cannot one sympathise to some extent with their feelings in the
matter? When one's whole career has been devoted to the creation of new
forms of plant life or the improvement of existing forms, achievements
which entail prolonged scientific training and patient experimenting,
constant vigilance and careful selection of favourable variations,
it _must_ be rather galling to be asked to construct and maintain a
meandering row of commonplace evergreens. One can imagine the case to
be somewhat parallel to that of a highly trained musician who has just
delivered himself of a great sonata and is asked by a member of his
audience for "a descriptive battle-march!"
Mr. W. Robinson had perhaps experiences of this kind in mind when he
wrote his observations about mazes in his well-known handbook, "The
English Flower Garden." "The Maze," he says, is "one of the notions
about gardening which arose when people had very little idea of the
dignity and infinite beauty of the garden flora as we now know it." In
the next sentence he refers to mazes as "ugly frivolities." They should
be left, he says, "for the most part to places of the public tea-garden
kind." Whatever we may think of the justice of these remarks, we must
admit that there is some force in his objection that "one of its
drawbacks is the death and distortion of the evergreens that go to
form its close lines, owing to the frequent clipping; if clipping be
neglected the end is still worse, and the whole thing is soon ready
for the fire."
A figure of a maze accompanies this criticism, but it can hardly be
meant to typify the usual conception of a hedge maze, as it has the
appearance of a seventeenth-century design, possibly intended for a
floral labyrinth, for, apart from a few ornamental excrescences, it is
entirely unicursal.
Although the strictures we have quoted would probably receive hearty
support from a large proportion of modern gardeners, the maze is still
not without its champions.
In Miss Madeline Agar's very practical book on "Garden Design," for
example, it is treated as a wholly legitimate embellishment for
large gardens, and the fact of its disfavour amongst present-day
horticulturists is attributed to lack of patience.
A highly original design, with provision for seats, sundials, and
statues, is likewise given, but it must be confessed that it conveys
a flattering assumption of opulence on the part of the reader, for it
certainly does not err on the side of simplicity.
Let us admit at once that, as a favourite of fashion, the maze has long
since had its day. In every generation the craving is for novelty,
for new forms of expression in all branches of art. Like every other
defunct mode, the topiary labyrinth is liable to temporary revivals
by lovers of the antique, but there is little reason to hope or to
fear that it will ever again secure a position of any dominance in
the affections of the gardener. The labour involved in its proper
maintenance is alone a sufficient guarantee against that. The hedges
require very frequent trimming, and sometimes partial renewal, the
latter especially in those cases where unscrupulous visitors are not
prevented, by barbed wire or other means, from short-circuiting the
convolutions. The paths, too, of which there may be over half a mile,
want regular attention unless we are content to be constantly reminded
of Tom Moore's punning conundrum:
"Why is a garden's wildered maze
Like a young widow, fresh and fair?
Because it wants some hand to raze
The weeds which have no business there."
Deciduous plants such as hornbeam and lime give the maze a sorry
appearance during the leafless months of the year, whilst the
slower-growing conifers, yew and cypress, besides being expensive,
necessitate a long waiting period before the hedges attain a
presentable height and thickness. Box harbours slugs; juniper, holly,
and the various thorn-bushes present inhospitable asperities which
outweigh their other merits--in short, we may be certain that whatever
material be suggested for the construction of a maze there will be no
lack of objections wherewith the gardener may buttress his prejudice
against the contrivance in any shape or form.
On the other hand, the maze has its own, almost indefinable, charms,
and we need hardly tremble for its total extinction until we cease
to bear children, even if we dismiss as decadent sentimentality that
romantic instinct of which some of us cannot quite rid ourselves in
maturer years.
CHAPTER XVII
STONE LABYRINTHS AND ROCK ENGRAVINGS
In Chapter XII we noticed some of the principal suggestions which had
been made up to a few years ago as to the origin of our turf mazes,
and saw that the question was one which could not be settled by the
study of remains found in this country alone. Several interesting facts
have been brought to light in other lands since Dr. Trollope wrote
the memoir which has for so many years been accepted as the standard
authority on the subject, and we shall find that a little consideration
of them will enable us to view the question in a new light.
As long ago as 1838, Dr. E. von Baer, whilst held up by bad weather
on the uninhabited island of Wier, south of Hochland in the Gulf of
Finland, observed a curious pattern (Fig. 124) formed in the ground
by means of large pebbles. He also noticed several very similar
arrangements on the southern coast of the peninsula of Lappland and
presented a paper on the subject to the Academy of St. Petersburg.
In some of these figures the stones employed were small pebbles, in
other instances they were as large as a child's head, and in one case
they were so large that they required several strong men to lift them.
Some of the figures had nearly disappeared through the action of moss,
earthworms, etc.
[Illustration: FIG. 124.--Stone Labyrinth on Wier Island, Gulf of
Finland. (von Baer.)]
[Illustration: FIG. 125.--Stone Labyrinth on Coast of Finland. (After
Aspelin.)]
In 1877, Dr. J. R. Aspelin, of Helsingfors, drew attention to the
existence of similar figures in Finland and on the east coast of
Sweden. Fig. 125 shows a form found by him on an island not far
from Borgo, Finland. He describes some of the figures as having one
"centre," others two, and others again none at all. They are usually
from ten to fifteen yards in diameter. One large specimen, nearly
twenty yards across (Fig. 126), at Wisby, on the Island of Gothland,
is of a design very similar to the circular labyrinth which appears
on certain coins of Knossos. They were generally found on islands or
close to the sea-coast, and were known by various names in different
localities (see p. 150).
[Illustration: FIG. 126.--Stone Labyrinth at Wisby, Gothland.
(Aspelin.)]
The fishermen and peasants said that they were used for children's
games, a girl standing at the centre whilst the boys raced for her
along the winding paths; but Dr. Aspelin pointed out that they were
in any case ancient remains, and thought that the idea might have
originated in the Bronze Age.
Corresponding figures have been found in Iceland, and a somewhat
similar arrangement, consisting of concentric circles of pebbles, with
sometimes a cross at the centre, has long been known in the province of
Brandenburg, Germany.
It seems to have escaped the notice of most writers on the subject
that long before the nineteenth century these objects were described
by the Swedish antiquarian Rudbeck, from whose "Atlantica" (1695) we
reproduce the sketch shown in Fig. 127.
The names given to these devices in the various localities in which
they occur are of some interest. Around the Finnish coasts the names
_Jatulintarha_ (Giant's Fence) and _Pietarinleikki_ (St. Peter's Game)
predominate. Around Helsingfors the figures are more frequently spoken
of as "Ruins of Jerusalem," "City of Nineveh," or "Walls of Jericho."
In the neighbourhood of Viborg they are known as _Jätinkatu_ (Giant's
Street), _Kivitarha_ (Stone-fence), or _Lissabon_.
[Illustration: FIG. 127.--Scandinavian Stone Labyrinth. (O. Rudbeck,
1695.)]
In Lappland a common term is _Babylon_; in Iceland, where the mazes
are sometimes formed of earth, the name applied is _Völundarhus_
(Wieland's, or Weyland's, House).
In Norway and Sweden they are sometimes called _Nunnentarha_ (Nun's
Fence), _Jungfrudans_ (Maiden's Dance), or _Rundborg_ (Round Castle),
and on an island in the Kattegat the name _Trelleborg_ (The Troll's,
or Giant's, Castle) is found; but more frequently they are known by
some name akin to our "Troy-town," such as _Trojin_, _Trojeburg_,
_Trojenborg_, or _Tröborg_. Another name sometimes associated with them
was _Steintanz_ (Stone Dance). The Wisby labyrinth is named _Tröjeborg_.
[Illustration: FIG. 128.--Danish Runic Stone Cross, with Labyrinth
Figure. (O. Worm, 1651.)]
That labyrinths of some kind were also known in olden Denmark appears
from the works of the seventeenth-century Danish antiquary Olaf Worm,
one of whose woodcuts (Fig. 128) shows the symbol engraved on an
ancient cross.
We see then that John Aubrey (see p. 136) was not altogether speaking
at random when he stated his belief that "we received these Mazes from
our Danish ancestors." In fact, he based his observations on the works
of the Danish and Swedish writers just referred to.
If, as the above considerations lead us to guess, the use of
labyrinthine figures was a common feature of the northern peoples
before the Norse invasion of Britain, we may wonder whether there is
any evidence of the use of the symbol by earlier inhabitants of the
same parts; are there any indications of this nature to be found among
the relics of prehistoric man in the northern countries?
Well, there are certain remains which have been held to afford an
affirmative reply to this question. The remarkable prehistoric rock
engravings in Northumberland and the Borders, first noticed about a
hundred years ago and described in detail by Mr. G. Tate in 1864, are
very suggestive in this connection. They include many figures of a
character closely approaching that of a circular labyrinth, but no
actual design of the conventional Cretan type has been discovered. In
Figs. 129 and 130 are seen examples found on rocks at Routing Linn
and Old Bewick respectively. The engravings are as much as three or
four feet in diameter, and in many cases are interconnected by grooves
which terminate at their cup-like centres. They often coalesce and
interconnect to form mazy patterns of great complexity. The greater
number consist merely of a series of concentric circles around a
central cup, the circles in some cases being interrupted along a radial
line which is generally occupied by a straight groove. Their origin and
purpose are very obscure.
Very similar rock engravings have been found, though not in such
profusion, in other parts of Great Britain, as far north as the
Orkneys, and as far south as Devonshire, and also in the south of
Ireland. In other parts of Ireland the engravings have chiefly the
shape of a simple spiral.
[Illustration: Fig. 129. Rock Engravings, Routing Linn, Northumberland.
(G. Tate in Proc. Berwick Naturalists' Club, 1864)]
[Illustration: Fig. 130. Rock Engravings, Old Bewick, Northumberland.
(G. Tate in Proc. Berwick Naturalists' Club, 1864)]
There is strong suggestion of the labyrinth idea in the elaborate
series of engravings which adorn the stones of a cromlech on the island
of Gav'r Innis, off the coast of Brittany. Here the surface of the
stones is entirely covered with engraved concentric grooves, which
never cross one another, but form systems of whorls very much like
those on the skin of human finger-tips. There is, however, nothing that
can be fairly compared with the designs of the turf mazes, the stone
labyrinths or the coins of Knossos.
Amongst the remarkable assemblage of prehistoric engravings on the
rocky surfaces of the Italian Maritime Alps is one which exhibits a
spiral of five turns, with interruptions and blind branches, but the
resemblance between this isolated figure and the conventional labyrinth
form is rather too slender to support any useful deduction as to the
ancestry of the latter.
The reader may perhaps wonder whether any traces of the labyrinths have
been found in other continents, and, if so, whether any connection
can be established between them and the labyrinth cult in Europe.
An interesting discovery in this reference was made some years ago
in the shape of a figure of the Cretan Labyrinth, of circular type,
roughly engraved amid other pictographs on the wall of the ruined _Casa
Grande_, an old Indian erection in Pinal County, Arizona, U.S.A.
An exactly similar figure, with the addition of some unknown symbol
opposite its "entrance" (Fig. 131), was also found in a manuscript
entitled "Rudo Ensayo" (Rough Essay), written by a Spaniard who visited
the country--the home of the Pima Indians--in 1761 or 1762. According
to this manuscript the diagram was scratched in the sand by an Indian
and represented the plan of a building.
Dr. J. W. Fewkes, the Chief of the Bureau of American Ethnology, who
investigated the matter about fifteen years ago, states that an old
Indian living in the neighbourhood was asked whether he knew of any
building, or remains of one, built on such a plan. He replied in the
negative, but said the figure was commonly employed in a children's
game called _Tcuhiki_, i.e. the House of Tcuhu. (Tcuhu is a mythical
hero, probably identical with Gopher, who is supposed to have made
the spiral hole through which the Pima Indians came up from the
underworld.) A writer on this tribe of Indians has described another
game played by them which seems to have much in common with that
mentioned above. It is called _Tculikwikut_, and is played with rings
and darts, count being kept by means of little stones which are moved
along a series of small holes arranged in the sand in the form of a
whorl, starting from a centre called _Tcunni Ki_, "the Council House."
[Illustration: FIG. 131.--Indian Labyrinth Figure from
Eighteenth-century Spanish Manuscript. (After Cotton.)]
If it could be shown that these games were associated with the
labyrinth figure in those regions before the date of the Spanish
invasion of Mexico we should be forced to conclude either that, by an
extraordinary coincidence, the figure became evolved independently
in the Old World and the New, or that in both it had a common origin
of astounding antiquity. However, there is a probability that it was
introduced to the Indians by the early Spaniards, with whom it would
have been a familiar symbol. The only other ancient Indian pictograph
of labyrinthine type so far discovered appears to be that on a pebble
found by Dr. Fewkes in 1919 in a ruin known as "Square Tower House,"
in Mesa Verde National Park. This, it will be seen (Fig. 132), bears
no likeness to the conventional design, but is merely an asymmetrical
meandering groove somewhat similar in appearance to the braided
designs often seen on modish feminine apparel at the present day. Its
significance is unknown.
[Illustration: FIG. 132.--Labyrinthine Pictograph from Mesa Verde.
(After Fewkes.)]
According to a short review in _Folk Lore_ in 1913, a book entitled
"Some Zulu Customs and Folk Lore," by L. H. Samuelson ("Nomleti"),
1912, contained a description of mazes made on the ground by Zulus.
Unfortunately this book is out of print, and no copy, strange to say,
is to be found in the library of either the British Museum or the Folk
Lore Society. It would be extremely interesting to know whether the
mazes in question bear any similarity to the traditional Cretan figure.
So far, then, evidence of a definite labyrinth cult is confined to
certain parts of Europe and the Mediterranean borders. It has, in fact,
been shown that it corresponds roughly with the areas formerly occupied
by the people that built the cromlechs. With regard to its origin and
significance, many interesting speculations have been made, some of
which we will now briefly review.
CHAPTER XVIII
THE DANCE OR GAME OF TROY
Readers of our previous chapters will have noticed the frequency with
which the name "Troy" is associated with the idea of the labyrinth.
We find this association, for instance, in the case of the "Troy-towns"
of Somerton and Hillbury, the "Walls of Troy" of the Cumberland Marshes
and Appleby (Lincs), and the "Caerdroia" of the Welsh shepherds. In
northern Europe we find it as "Troja" or in such combinations as
"Trojeborg" or "Tröborg."
That this association is not of recent origin we have an interesting
token in a reference which occurs in a fifteenth-century French
manuscript preserved in the British Museum. This manuscript is the
record of a journey made by the Seigneur de Caumont to Jerusalem in
1418, and is entitled "Voyaige d'oultremer en Jhérusalem." Calling
at the island of Crete _en route_, the Seigneur, like most other
travellers on similar occasions, takes occasion to make a few
remarks about the famous legend associated with it. He speaks of
the "mervelleuse et orrible best qui fut appellé Minotaur," who, he
says, was confined within "celle entrigade meson faite par Dedalus,
merveilleux maquanit, lequelle meson fut nommée Labarinte et aujourduy
par moultz est vulguelmant appellé le cipté de Troie."
It would seem from the latter observation that the expression
"Troy-town" or "City of Troy" was in general use 500 years ago as a
title for the Cretan Labyrinth, and seeing that the renaissance of
classical learning was as yet in embryo the inference is that the name
was a popular tradition of some antiquity.
We find the name of Troy definitely associated with the labyrinth long
before this, however, in the crude engravings on the Etruscan wine-jar
which we noticed in Chapter VIII., the _oinochoë_ from Tragliatella.
[Illustration: FIG. 133.--Etruscan Wine-vase from Tragliatella.
(Deecke.)]
[Illustration: FIG. 134.--Etruscan Vase. "Troy Dance" Details.
(Deecke.)]
The meaning of these figures (Figs. 133, 134 and 135) has been much
discussed, but it is now generally agreed that the labyrinth shown has
a close relationship with the operations which are being performed by
the group of armed men, and it is obvious that it is also connected
in some way with the famous story of the wars of Troy, as we see by
its label "_Truia_." What is this operation in which the warriors are
engaged? We find a helpful clue in the story related by Virgil (B.C.
70-19) in his great epic of the Aeneid, in which the poet has embalmed
for us the legends current in his time concerning the wanderings of
Aeneas, the reputed son of Anchises and Venus, after the fall of the
city of Troy, which he had fought bravely to defend.
[Illustration: FIG. 135.--Etruscan Vase. Details, showing Labyrinth and
"retroscript" label--"TRUIA." (Deecke.)]
Aeneas, who escaped from the city carrying his father on his shoulders,
led forth also his little son Iulus. It is this boy whom, in the fifth
book of the poem, Virgil pictures as taking part with his companions
in a sport called the _Ludus Trojae_ or _Lusus Trojae_ (Game of Troy),
sometimes simply _Troja_. According to the Roman tradition it was
introduced into Italy by Aeneas, and his son Ascanius imparted it to
the Alban kings and through them to the Romans. The game consisted of a
sort of processional parade or dance, in which some of the participants
appear to have been mounted on horseback. Virgil draws a comparison
between the complicated movements of the game and the convolutions of
the Cretan Labyrinth:
"Ut quondam Creta fertur Labyrinthus in alta
parietibus textum caecis iter ancipitemque
mille viis habuisse dolum, qua signa sequendi
frangeret indeprensus et irremeabilis error."
(_Aeneid_, V. 585-591).
"As when in lofty Crete (so fame reports)
The Labyrinth of old, in winding walls
A mazy way inclos'd, a thousand paths
Ambiguous and perplexed, by which the steps
Should by an error intricate, untrac'd
Be still deluded."
(_Trapp's trans._, 1718.)
The game is also mentioned as a well-established institution by other
Roman writers of a century or so later, such as Suetonius and Tacitus,
and appears to have assumed imposing dimensions at one time, as we see
from a representation of it on the reverse of a medal of Nero, where it
has more of the nature of a military review. It was generally performed
by youths, and only those of good social standing took part.
It will be remembered that we have already had occasion to notice
another ancient dance, or game, in which youthful notabilities were
stated to have taken part, and in which the motions of the dances were
supposed to represent the tortuous paths of the Cretan Labyrinth,
namely, the dance performed by Theseus and his friends on the island of
Delos. This dance was called the "Geranos," or Crane Dance, probably on
account of the fancied resemblance of the attitude of the dancers to
that of cranes in flight, or perhaps on account of actual adornments of
the dancers. (An eighteenth-century German traveller in Russia relates
that the Ostiaks of Siberia had an elaborate Crane Dance, the dancers
being dressed up in the skins of those birds.)
Is there any connection between these two dances, both labyrinthine in
character, the one traditionally based on the windings of the labyrinth
of Knossos, the other compared by Virgil with the latter, but named
after another city famous in ancient legend--to wit, Troy?
In regard to both these cities the events celebrated in the classic
legends were of prehistoric occurrence (in so far as they occurred
at all), and their recital was handed down orally for very many
generations before they became crystallised in the written record, and
it is not therefore surprising if during that time various versions
were evolved and discrepancies of person, place, and time were
introduced.
The association of the labyrinth, by some of the Nordic Aryan peoples,
with Troy instead of Knossos may perhaps be accounted for in this way.
The point with which we are most concerned at the moment, however, is
the fact that the figure of the labyrinth, in each case, is connected
with the idea of a ceremonial game or dance.
Another dance, possibly of similar character, associated with Knossos,
is that mentioned in Homer's "Iliad" as having been invented by
Daedalus for Ariadne. Youths with golden swords and maidens crowned
with garlands performed it in ranks.
By analogy with a great number of myths, rites, and ceremonies of
ancient and modern races, some anthropologists have been led to the
conclusion that these Troy and labyrinth dances are only particular
expressions of a very early and widely diffused ceremonial associated
with the awakening of nature in spring, after its winter sleep, or the
release of the imprisoned sun after its long captivity in the toils of
the demon of winter.
In that marvellous compendium of universal folk-lore "The Golden
Bough," and in the particular volume of it entitled "The Dying God,"
Sir James Frazer debates the significance of the classic legends we
have mentioned, and draws the tentative conclusion that Ariadne's dance
was symbolical of the sun's course in the sky, its intention being,
"by sympathetic magic to aid the great luminary to run his race on
high." (See also p. 92.) He draws attention to a practice observed by
Chilcotin Indians, during eclipses of the sun, of walking around a
circle leaning on staves, as if to help the sun around its course (much
as a child pushes the partition of a railway compartment to help the
train along).
Mr. A. B. Cook, the Cambridge classical archaeologist, points out in
this connection a Knossian coin on which the Minotaur, or rather, a man
with a bull's mask, is shown engaged apparently in a similar rite, the
reverse being occupied by a "swastika" labyrinth.
All this appears highly speculative to the ordinary layman, but nobody
who gives a little attention to the subject can avoid the conclusion
that at any rate there must have existed in very early--possibly
Neolithic--times an extremely widespread and important ceremonial,
generally of a sacrificial type, in connection with the spring
awakening. So deeply seated was this ancient tradition that traces of
it have persisted, with various local modifications, right down to the
present day.
The sword-dances and morris-dances of our own country, most of which
but for the happy genius and industry of Mr. Cecil Sharp and his
disciples would have passed away entirely by the next generation, are
undoubtedly survivals of a ceremonial of this type, particularly the
former. They were performed only on certain fixed annual occasions, and
were treated with great reverence and meticulous attention to detail.
A correspondent writing to _Notes and Queries_ in 1870 (Anne Silvester)
laments the fact that "the old British game of _troy_, the vestiges of
which are so rare," is becoming extinct, but does not describe it. No
doubt the writer had in mind some game played in connection with earth
mazes.
It is a pity that we have no record of the actual method of "running
the maze" in this country in past generations. The idea that such
ingeniously designed and carefully constructed works were made for the
sole purpose of trotting along their convolutions to the centre and out
again, without any symbolic or religious significance or any ceremonial
observance, may be dismissed at once.
As regards their alleged use by the Christian Church for purposes of
penance, we have no reliable evidence, and even if we had we know that
such a use would have been of a secondary character. Most probably
they were appropriated to some seasonal observance, as in fact we
know that several of them were within quite recent years, and were
associated with some ritual dance similar in nature to the Crane Dance
or the Dance of Troy. With regard to the word "Troy" itself there is a
possibility that its connection with the dance and the labyrinth figure
may have originated not with the name of a town, but with some ancient
root signifying to wind, or turn; in the case of the Welsh "Caerdroia,"
as we have already seen, this suggestion was made long ago. It may
also have some connection with the three-headed monster Trojano of
the ancient Slavonic mythology, who appears in the Persian legends as
Druja, or Draogha, and in the Rig-Veda of India as Maho Druho, the
Great Druh, and who plays throughout the same part as the wintry demon
Weyland Smith (or Wieland) of the northern traditions. In Iceland, as
we have already seen (p. 150), the earth mazes are associated with the
latter personage.
We find the word Troi, or Troi-Aldei, applied to certain ceremonial
parades akin to the Troy-dance, in the writings of Neidhart von
Reuenthal, in the early thirteenth century, the accompanying songs
being termed "Troyerlais."
Quite recently a contributor to "Folk Lore" gave the airs of three
popular dances which are performed by the Serbians at the present day
under the names of Trojanka and Trojanac. The correspondent in question
had thought that their names might have some connection with the root
_tri_ (= three), with reference to the rhythm of the dances, but the
airs supplied by him certainly would not support this contention. It
is far more probable, as he seems to conclude, that they indicate a
connection with the Dance of Troy. Unfortunately he does not describe
the dances themselves; it would be interesting to know whether
they embody any movements suggestive of a labyrinthine origin or
corresponding to the dances described by Homer and Virgil on the one
hand, or to our morris and sword dances on the other.
Another point in this connection which might justify a little enquiry
is the question of the origin of that maze-figure which forms, or used
to form, part of the system of Swedish drill as taught to children in
this country.
With regard to our native dances mentioned above, we may note that
every care has been taken by competent investigators to discover and
to preserve as much as possible of the pure tradition, and we have the
satisfaction of knowing that, narrowly as they escaped oblivion, the
English Folk-Dance Society will see to it that such a danger will not
threaten them again for a very long time.
CHAPTER XIX
THE BOWER OF "FAIR ROSAMOND"
The story of "Fair Rosamond" and her mazy Bower, though it cannot lay
claim to that standard of authenticity which is generally required of
historical data, has for so long occupied an honoured position in the
realm of popular romance that, in a book professing to treat of mazes
from a broad point of view, we cannot dismiss it quite as briefly as we
might perhaps do in a book on English history.
"Fair Rosamond" has been stated, without very much foundation, to
have been the daughter of Walter de Clifford, and is in consequence
frequently referred to as Rosamond Clifford.
The story runs that King Henry the Second (A.D. 1133 to 1189) adopted
her as his mistress, and that, in order to conceal his illicit amours
from his Queen, Eleanor of Aquitaine, he conducted them within the
innermost recesses of a most complicated maze which he caused to be
made in his park at Woodstock. Rumours of her spouse's defections
having reached the ears of Queen Eleanor, that indignant lady contrived
to penetrate the labyrinth, confronted her terrified and tearful rival,
and forced her to choose between the dagger and the bowl of poison; she
drained the latter and became forthwith defunct.
Various trimmings, more or less scandalous in nature, gathered around
the central tale, as, for instance, that Rosamond presented Henry
with the son who was afterwards known as William Longsword, Earl of
Salisbury, but the main outline as indicated above was handed down
intact for many generations.
The poisoning incident is not mentioned in the account given by a
chronicler of that time, John Brompton, Abbot of Jervaulx (Yorks). It
seems to have been first recorded by a French scribe in the fourteenth
century.
Brompton's version, given under the year 1151 in his "Chronicon," is as
follows:
"Sane idem rex _Henricus_ quanquam multis virtutibus fuerat ornatus,
aliquibus tamen viciis involutus personam regiam deturpavit. In
libidine namque pronus conjugalem modum excessit. Regina enim sua
_Elianora_ jamdudum incarcerata factus est adulter manifestus,
palam et impudice puellam retinens _Rosamundam_. Huic nempe puellae
spectatissimae fecerat rex apud _Wodestoke_ mirabilis architecturae
cameram operi _Daedalino_ similem, ne forsan a regina facile
deprehenderetur. Sed illa cito obiit, et apud _Godestowe_ juxta
_Oxoniam_ in capitulo monialium in tumba decenti est sepulta, ubi talis
suprascriptio invenitur:
"_Hic jacet in tumba Rosa mundi, non Rosa munda;
Non redolet, sed olet, quae redolere solet._"
It would appear from this account that the "bower" was a labyrinth
of an architectural kind, perhaps like that mentioned in Chapter XIV
as having been built at Ardres by Louis of Bourbourg in the previous
century, not, as popularly believed, a maze of evergreens. It will be
seen, also, that Henry did not long enjoy his clandestine delights,
for Rosamond shortly died and was buried before the high altar of the
nunnery church of Godstowe. Her death is believed to have taken place
about 1176. It is possible that she had entered the nunnery some time
before that. According to the contemporary annalist Roger de Hoveden
her body was removed in 1191 by Bishop Hugh of Lincoln, on moral
grounds, and was apparently re-interred in the chapter-house.
The imprisonment of Queen Eleanor, referred to by Brompton, was a
consequence of her connivance at the rebellion of her sons in 1173-74.
Ranulph Higden, who lived in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries,
deals with the Henry and Rosamond story in the seventh book of his
"Polychronicon," and tells us that visitors to Godstowe Abbey used
to be shown a wonderful coffer which had belonged to Rosamond. It
contained figures of birds, beasts, fishes and boxing men, which, by
clockwork or springs, were endowed with apparently spontaneous motion
(Cista ejusdem puella vix bipedalis mensura, sed mirabilis architectura
ibidem cernitur; in qua conflictus pugilem, gestus animalium, volatus
avium, saltus piscium, absque hominis impulsu conspiciuntur).
Most of the subsequent chroniclers seem to have followed Higden in
their relation of the story. By Tudor times the romantic and tragic
episode had become a favourite theme in popular lore; it was enshrined
by the Elizabethan poet Drayton in his "Epistle to Rosamond," the bower
being therein described as an arrangement of subterranean vaults. It
achieved its greatest popularity, however, in the ballad form, and was
printed, with several other "Strange Histories or Songs and Sonnets of
Kinges, Princes, Dukes, Lords, Ladyes, Knights and Gentlemen, etc.," in
a black-letter volume written or edited by Thomas Delone (or Delorney)
in 1612. Two editions of the ballad were represented in the collection
of Samuel Pepys, under the title of "The Life and Death of Rosamond,
King Henry the Second's Concubine. And how she was Poysoned to Death by
Queen Elenor."
John Aubrey, in his "Remaines," 1686, tells us that his nurse used to
sing the following verses to him:
"Yea, Rosamond, fair Rosamond,
Her name was called so,
To whom dame Elinor our Queene
Was known a deadly foe,
The King therefore for her defence
Against the furious Queene
At Woodstocke builded such a Bower
The like was never seen.
"Most curiously that Bower was built
Of stone and timber strong.
An hundered and fifty dores
Did to this Bower belong,
And they so cunningly contriv'd
With turnings round about
That none but with a clew of thread
Could enter in or out."
The whole ballad will be found in the well-known "Reliques of Ancient
English Poetry," collected by Bishop Percy and published by him in 1765.
Of a widely different nature was the version published in 1729 by
Samuel Croxall in his "Select Collection of Novels," Vol. IV. "The
Loves of King Henry II and Fair Rosamond." Here the attitude assumed is
one of learned contempt for popular credulity. "What have we in this
Story," says Croxall, "but a Copy of Ariadne's Clue and the Cretan
Labyrinth?... Yet are we not to wonder that the monkish Historians
should deliver down to us a Tale of such Absurdity, when the same
Chronicles tell us that, in that King's Reign, a Dragon of marvellous
Bigness was seen at St. Osyth's in Essex, which, by its very motion,
set many Houses and Buildings on Fire."
As for the inscription on Rosamond's tomb, quoted by Brompton, our
critic is equally scornful. "The conceit," he says, "is poor and common
and, like the other Poetry of those times, depends on a certain Jingle
and Play on the Words. The sense of them has been thus expressed in
honest English Metre:"
(Whether the verse is in better taste when expressed in honest English
metre the reader must judge for himself.)
"Rose of the World, not Rose the peerless Flow'r,
Within this Tomb hath taken up her Bow'r.
She scenteth now, and nothing Sweet doth smell
Who earst was wont to savour passing well."
This rendering is perhaps preferable to that of Stowe ("Annals," 1631),
which concludes with:
"Though she were sweete, now foully doth she stinke,
A mirrour good for all men, that on her thinke."
In any case the epitaph must be accounted a libel in one respect, for
Leland, the Antiquary to Henry VIII, records that, on the opening of
Rosamond's tomb, at the dissolution of Godstowe nunnery, the bones were
found to be encased in leather, surrounded by lead, and that "a very
swete smell came out of it."
An interesting point mentioned by Croxall is that in his time "a
delightful Bower" was still in existence at Woodstock and was shown as
the original of the story. Another reliable writer of the same period
(Thomas Hearne, 1718) makes a similar observation, but in this case it
is made clear that the remains are those of a large building, not, as
we might have inferred, those of a hedge maze or arbour. These remains,
whatever they may have been, have disappeared long since.
Woodstock Park, according to the historian Rouse of Warwick, was the
first park to be made in England. Henry the First had a palace here,
but the present great building, the masterpiece of Sir John Vanbrugh,
was built for the first Duke of Marlborough and was named after the
scene of his famous victory, Blenheim.
The traditional story of Fair Rosamond, in which she is made to figure
as a cruelly wronged and guileless damsel of impregnable virtue and the
victim of an unreasoning jealousy, formed the basis of many novels,
_e.g._, "Fair Rosamond," by T. Miller ("The Parlour Library"), 1847,
and as late as 1911 it was cast into the form of a one-act tragedy by
Mr. Oliver W. F. Lodge, under the name of "The Labyrinth," and was
first performed by the Pilgrim Players on October 14 in that year.
A little-known opera by Addison deals with the same theme; it is
entitled "Rosamond" and is inscribed to the Duchess of Marlborough. The
most poignant and beautiful version of the tragedy is that given by
Swinburne in his "Rosamond" (not, of course, to be confused with his
"Rosamund").
Tennyson, in his "Becket," makes that prelate rescue Rosamond from the
Queen at the crucial moment and take her to Godstowe nunnery, whence
she later escapes to intercede--ineffectually--with his murderers in
Canterbury Cathedral.
No authentic portrait of Rosamond is known to exist, but in Hampton
Court Palace, just outside Cardinal Wolsey's Room, there hangs a
half-length female portrait by an unknown painter (No. 961 [937]),
which is labelled Rosamond Clifford. The lady depicted, however, is
attired in a fashion which did not obtain until considerably later
than the time of Rosamond; in fact, there seems to be no justification
whatever for assuming that the picture represents the fair Rosamond at
all, except perhaps in the imagination of the artist.
CHAPTER XX
MAZE ETYMOLOGY
The reader may be inclined to question the necessity for a whole
chapter to be devoted to such a matter as this. "Surely anybody who has
the curiosity to do so can look the words up in a dictionary!" Or he
may object that the proper place to define and expound one's terms is
in the opening chapter.
It will be found, however, that no clear-cut and simple definition
of, for example, the word _labyrinth_ itself is to be found in any
dictionary, and that with regard to its derivation authorities are
not even yet in complete agreement. With the facts recounted in the
preceding chapters at his disposal the reader may possibly find a
little informal discussion of these points more intelligible and
interesting than the more rigid presentment afforded by even the best
dictionaries. Moreover, most dictionaries have little or nothing to say
about Julian's bowers or Troy-towns. On the other hand, of course, this
chapter could not have been written without free recourse to Murray,
Skeat, Webster, Wright, and other monuments of the lexicographer's toil.
We will consider such words as seem worth discussing in their
alphabetical order, commencing with one which was prominent in our last
chapter, viz., "bower."
We have here a word of which the early connotation has been rather
obscured by poetical insistence upon one of its extensions. As a
convenient rhyme for "flower" and "shower" it has become one of the
mainstays of the vernal poetaster, a circumstance which evoked one of
the gems of Calverley's gentle satire:
"Bowers of flowers encountered showers
In William's carol--(O love my Willie!);
Then he bade sorrow borrow from blithe tomorrow
I quite forget what--say a daffodilly."
(_Lovers, and a Reflection._)
The word has thus come to be chiefly employed to signify a leafy or
shady arbour or a recess in a garden, a use quite consistent with, but
narrower than, the principal and much older meaning, which was that of
a dwelling, with particular reference to the character of privacy.
The common modern usage seems to have been first adopted by the
Elizabethan poets. Hero, in "Much Ado about Nothing" (Act III, Sc. 1),
sends by her attendant a message to her cousin Beatrice, bidding her
"... steal into the pleached bower,
Where honeysuckles, ripened by the sun,
Forbid the sun to enter."
The Saxon form of the word was _búr_ or _bure_, related to _búan_,
meaning "to dwell," and it was always used to denote something of the
nature of an inner chamber or sanctum.
In Chaucer's works (late fourteenth century) it has the same force,
_e.g._, in the "Wife of Bath's Tale":
"Blissing halles, chambres, kitchines and boures."
Somewhat later we find a poetical extension of the word to include not
only the dwellings of human beings but also of animals and birds. Thus
William Dunbar, a Scottish poet who lived about 1465-1530, speaking of
birds hidden within thickets, used the phrase "within their bouris."
This usage gave rise to the idea that the word was derived from
"bough," a notion that seems to have first found expression in the
anonymous "Letters of Junius," and shortly afterwards received the
weighty sanction of Dr. Johnson. In Southey's "Curse of Kehama" the
word in this sense is made to do duty as a verb:
"And through the leafy cope which bowered it o'er
Came gleams of chequered light."
The metaphorical use of the word in its original sense is seen in
Moore's "Evenings in Greece":
"Fancy, who hath no present home,
But builds her bower in scenes to come."
The suggestion that Rosamond's Bower was of the nature of a hedge maze
seems to be of rather late origin, probably arising in the seventeenth
century, like the application of the term to the little hedge-box
garden at Menteith (Queen Mary's Bower), to which we referred in
Chapter XIII. In the earlier writers it is almost invariably spoken
of as a building. Robert Fabyan, for instance, a historian of the
late sixteenth century, speaks of it as a "house named Labyrinthus or
Daedalus worke, or howse wroughte like unto a knot in a garden called a
maze," and in some anonymous verses of the mid-fifteenth century it is
stated:
"Att Wodestocke for hure he made a toure
That is called Rosemoundes boure."
It would appear that the Bower which is commemorated in the place-name
of Havering-at-Bower, Essex, was also of the nature of a building,
probably of large dimensions, for, according to an "Appendix on Bowers"
annexed to an "Essay on Design in Gardening," by George Mason, 1795,
there was a long-standing tradition to the effect that it was the site
of a king's residence, and an old man of the locality could remember
"many chimnies of the old bower standing." This may or may not be
evidence, but it is at all events quite in keeping with the ancient
use of the word. The royal residence in question would no doubt have
been of the nature of a private retreat, not a court.
Writing in 1827, the Rev. H. J. Todd says, "In Cumberland, to this day,
a back room or parlour is called a _boor_."
It will be seen from the remark of John Aubrey quoted on page 136 that
he assumed "borough" to be identical in origin with "bower." The former
is, however, derived from the Anglo-Saxon _burg_ or _burh_, a city,
allied to _beorgan_, to protect.
In any large dictionary there will be found detailed several other
meanings for the word "bower"--including the sense in which it is
used in Bret Harte's "Heathen Chinee"--but with these we are not here
concerned.
Strange to say, the use of the word in the combination "Julian-bower"
or "Julian's-bower" is usually overlooked or ignored.
The English Dialect Dictionary (Wright) gives the local variants
_Gelyan-bower_, _Gillimber_ and _Jilling-bo'or_ as occurring in
Lincolnshire, and _Jul-laber_ as another form of the "Julaber's
Barrow" or "Juliberry's Grave" which we have already noticed in Kent.
Is the "bower" here the same as "barrow," which is derived from the
Anglo-Saxon _beorg_, meaning, like the German _berg_, a hill? Or is
it only the same word that we have met with in "Rosamond's Bower"?
The former suggestion receives some support from the fact that turf
mazes are often, though not always, constructed on the top of a hill
or mound, but to the writer there is something more attractive in
conceiving these works to be associated with the idea of a retreat,
particularly if we consider, as we have some reason for doing, that the
Julian referred to is the benign and hospitable Saint Julian of the
mediaeval legends.
From Brand's "Popular Antiquities" it appears that there were three
or four saints of this name, but the most well-known of these was
the knight whose deeds are celebrated in the "Gesta Romanorum"
and elsewhere, the reputed patron and protector of pilgrims and
travellers. The chapel of Domus Dei at Southampton, now used as the
French Protestant church, is dedicated to this St. Julian. The legend
goes, that on returning home one day Julian discovered a man and woman
asleep in his bed, jumped to the hasty conclusion that his wife had
been untrue to him and slew the pair where they lay, only to find that
they were his parents who had travelled from afar to visit him. In
repentance and atonement he then founded a hospice for travellers and
afterwards became known as _Hospitator_, or "the gude herbejour," in
which capacity his renown is testified by many a reference in our early
literature, _e.g._, in the works of Chaucer:
"Now up the heed; for al is wel;
Seynt Julyan, lo, bon hostel!
See here the Hous of Fame, lo!"
(_The Hous of Fame_.)
"An housholder, and that a grete, was he
Seint Julian he was in his contré."
(_Canterbury Tales_.)