prophesied the death and deposition of King John, and who was hanged by
that monarch for his pains. A very graphic and amusing account of this
pretended prophet is given by Grafton, in his _Chronicles of
England_.[55] "In the meanwhile," says he, "the priestes within England
had provided them a false and counterfeated prophet, called Peter
Wakefielde, a Yorkshire man, who was an hermite, an idle gadder about, and
a pratlyng marchant. Now, to bring this Peter in credite, and the kyng out
of all credite with his people, diverse vaine persons bruted dayly among
the commons of the realme, that Christe had twice appered unto him in the
shape of a childe, betwene the prieste's handes, once at Yorke, another
tyme at Pomfret; and that he had breathed upon him thrice, saying,
'_Peace, peace, peace_,' and teachyng many things, which he anon declared
to the bishops, and bid the people amend their naughtie living. Being rapt
also in spirite, they sayde he behelde the joyes of heaven and sorrowes of
hell; for scant were there three in the realme, sayde he, that lived
christianly.
[55] _Chronicles of England_, by Richard Grafton; London, 1568,
p. 106.
"This counterfeated soothsayer prophesied of King John, that he should
reigne no longer than the Ascension-day next followyng, which was in the
yere of our Lord 1211, and was the thirteenth yere from his coronation;
and this, he said, he had by revelation. Then it was of him demanded,
whether he should be slaine or be deposed, or should voluntarily give over
the crowne? He aunswered, that he could not tell; but of this he was sure
(he sayd), that neither he nor any of his stock or lineage should reigne
after that day.
"The king, hering of this, laughed much at it, and made but a scoff
thereat. 'Tush!' saith he, 'it is but an ideot knave, and such an one as
lacketh his right wittes.' But when this foolish prophet had so escaped
the daunger of the kinge's displeasure, and that he made no more of it, he
gate him abroad, and prated thereof at large, as he was a very idle
vagabond, and used to trattle and talke more than ynough; so that they
which loved the king caused him anon after to be apprehended as a
malefactor, and to be throwen in prison, the king not yet knowing thereof.
"Anone after the fame of this phantasticall prophet went all the realme
over, and his name was knowen every where, as foolishnesse is much
regarded of the people, where wisdome is not in place; specially because
he was then imprisoned for the matter, the rumour was the larger, their
wonderynges were the wantoner, their practises the foolisher, their busye
talkes and other idle doinges the greater. Continually from thence, as the
rude manner of people is, old gossyps tales went abroad, new tales were
invented, fables were added to fables, and lyes grew upon lyes. So that
every daye newe slanders were laide upon the king, and not one of them
true. Rumors arose, blasphemyes were sprede, the enemyes rejoyced, and
treasons by the priestes were mainteyned; and what lykewise was surmised,
or other subtiltye practised, all was then fathered upon this foolish
prophet, as 'thus saith Peter Wakefield;' 'thus hath he prophesied;' 'and
thus it shall come to pass;' yea, many times, when he thought nothing
lesse. And when the Ascension-day was come, which was prophecyed of
before, King John commanded his royal tent to be spread in the open
fielde, passing that day with his noble counseyle and men of honour in the
greatest solemnitie that ever he did before; solacing himself with
musickale instrumentes and songs, most in sight among his trustie
friendes. When that day was paste in all prosperitie and myrth, his
enemyes being confused, turned all into an allegorical understanding to
make the prophecie good, and sayde, 'He is no longer king, for the pope
reigneth, and not he.' [King John was labouring under a sentence of
excommunication at the time.]
"Then was the king by his council perswaded that this false prophet had
troubled the realme, perverted the heartes of the people, and raysed the
Commons against him; for his wordes went over the sea, by the help of his
prelates, and came to the French king's eare, and gave to him a great
encouragement to invade the lande. He had not else done it so sodeinely.
But he was most fowly deceived, as all they are and shall be that put
their trust in such dark drowsye dreames of hipocrites. The king therefore
commended that he should be hanged up, and his sonne also with him, lest
any more false prophets should arise of that race."
Heywood, who was a great stickler for the truth of all sorts of
prophecies, gives a much more favourable account of this Peter of Pomfret,
or Pontefract, whose fate he would, in all probability, have shared, if he
had had the misfortune to have flourished in the same age. He says, that
Peter, who was not only a prophet, but a bard, predicted divers of King
John's disasters, which fell out accordingly. On being taxed for a lying
prophet in having predicted that the king would be deposed before he
entered into the fifteenth year of his reign, he answered him boldly, that
all he had said was justifiable and true; for that, having given up his
crown to the pope, and paying him an annual tribute, the pope reigned, and
not he. Heywood thought this explanation to be perfectly satisfactory, and
the prophet's faith for ever established.
But to return to Merlin. Of him even to this day it may be said, in the
words which Burns has applied to another notorious personage,
"Great was his power and great his fame;
Far kenned and noted is his name."
His reputation is by no means confined to the land of his birth, but
extends through most of the nations of Europe. A very curious volume of
his _Life, Prophecies, and Miracles_, written, it is supposed, by Robert
de Bosron, was printed at Paris in 1498, which states, that the devil
himself was his father, and that he spoke the instant he was born, and
assured his mother, a very virtuous young woman, that she should not die
in childbed with him, as her ill-natured neighbours had predicted. The
judge of the district, hearing of so marvellous an occurrence, summoned
both mother and child to appear before him; and they went accordingly the
same day. To put the wisdom of the young prophet most effectually to the
test, the judge asked him if he knew his own father? To which the infant
Merlin replied, in a clear, sonorous voice, "Yes, my father is the Devil;
and I have his power, and know all things, past, present, and to come."
His worship clapped his hands in astonishment, and took the prudent
resolution of not molesting so awful a child or its mother either.
Early tradition attributes the building of Stonehenge to the power of
Merlin. It was believed that those mighty stones were whirled through the
air, at his command, from Ireland to Salisbury Plain; and that he arranged
them in the form in which they now stand, to commemorate for ever the
unhappy fate of three hundred British chiefs, who were massacred on that
spot by the Saxons.
At Abergwylly, near Carmarthen, is still shewn the cave of the prophet and
the scene of his incantations. How beautiful is the description of it
given by Spenser in his _Faerie Queene_! The lines need no apology for
their repetition here, and any sketch of the great prophet of Britain
would be incomplete without them:
"There the wise Merlin, whilom wont (they say,)
To make his wonne low underneath the ground,
In a deep delve far from the view of day,
That of no living wight he mote be found,
Whenso he counselled with his sprites encompassed round.
And if thou ever happen that same way
To travel, go to see that dreadful place;
It is a hideous, hollow cave, they say,
Under a rock that lies, a little space
From the swift Barry, tumbling down apace
Amongst the woody hills of Dynevoure;
But dare thou not, I charge, in any case,
To enter into that same baleful bower,
For fear the cruel fiendes should thee unwares devour!
But, standing high aloft, low lay thine eare,
And there such ghastly noise of iron chaines
And brazen caudrons thou shalt rombling heare,
Which thousand sprites with long-enduring paines
Doe tosse, that it will stun thy feeble braines;
And often times great groans and grievous stownds,
When too huge toile and labour them constraines;
And often times loud strokes and ringing sounds
From under that deep rock most horribly rebounds.
The cause, they say, is this. A little while
Before that Merlin died, he did intend
A brazen wall in compass, to compile
About Cayr Merdin, and did it commend
Unto these sprites to bring to perfect end;
During which work the Lady of the Lake,
Whom long he loved, for him in haste did send,
Who thereby forced his workmen to forsake,
Them bound till his return their labour not to slake.
In the mean time, through that false ladie's traine,
He was surprised, and buried under biere,
Ne ever to his work returned again;
Natheless these fiendes may not their work forbeare,
So greatly his commandement they fear,
But there doe toile and travaile day and night,
Until that brazen wall they up doe reare."[56]
[56] _Faerie Queene_, b. 3, c. 3, s. 6-13.
Amongst other English prophets, a belief in whose power has not been
entirely effaced by the light of advancing knowledge, is Robert Nixon, the
Cheshire idiot, a contemporary of Mother Shipton. The popular accounts of
this man say, that he was born of poor parents, not far from Vale Royal,
on the edge of the forest of Delamere. He was brought up to the plough,
but was so ignorant and stupid, that nothing could be made of him. Every
body thought him irretrievably insane, and paid no attention to the
strange, unconnected discourses which he held. Many of his prophecies are
believed to have been lost in this manner. But they were not always
destined to be wasted upon dull and inattentive ears. An incident occurred
which brought him into notice, and established his fame as a prophet of
the first calibre. He was ploughing in a field when he suddenly stopped
from his labour, and with a wild look and strange gesture, exclaimed,
"_Now, Dick! now, Harry! O, ill done, Dick! O, well done, Harry! Harry has
gained the day!_" His fellow-labourers in the field did not know what to
make of this rhapsody; but the next day cleared up the mystery. News was
brought by a messenger, in hot haste, that at the very instant when Nixon
had thus ejaculated, Richard III. had been slain at the battle of
Bosworth, and Henry VII. proclaimed king of England.
It was not long before the fame of the new prophet reached the ears of the
king, who expressed a wish to see and converse with him. A messenger was
accordingly despatched to bring him to court; but long before he reached
Cheshire, Nixon knew and dreaded the honours that awaited him. Indeed it
was said, that at the very instant the king expressed the wish, Nixon was,
by supernatural means, made acquainted with it, and that he ran about the
town of Over in great distress of mind, calling out, like a madman, that
Henry had sent for him, and that he must go to court, and be _clammed_,
that is, starved to death. These expressions excited no little wonder;
but, on the third day, the messenger arrived, and carried him to court,
leaving on the minds of the good people of Cheshire an impression that
their prophet was one of the greatest ever born. On his arrival King Henry
appeared to be troubled exceedingly at the loss of a valuable diamond, and
asked Nixon if he could inform him where it was to be found. Henry had
hidden the diamond himself, with a view to test the prophet's skill.
Great, therefore, was his surprise when Nixon answered him in the words of
the old proverb, "Those who hide can find." From that time forth the king
implicitly believed that he had the gift of prophecy, and ordered all his
words to be taken down.
During all the time of his residence at court he was in constant fear of
being starved to death, and repeatedly told the king that such would be
his fate, if he were not allowed to depart, and return into his own
country. Henry would not suffer it, but gave strict orders to all his
officers and cooks to give him as much to eat as he wanted. He lived so
well, that for some time he seemed to be thriving like a nobleman's
steward, and growing as fat as an alderman. One day the king went out
hunting, when Nixon ran to the palace gate, and entreated on his knees
that he might not be left behind to be starved. The king laughed, and
calling an officer, told him to take especial care of the prophet during
his absence, and rode away to the forest. After his departure, the
servants of the palace began to jeer at and insult Nixon, whom they
imagined to be much better treated than he deserved. Nixon complained to
the officer, who, to prevent him from being further molested, locked him
up in the king's own closet, and brought him regularly his four meals a
day. But it so happened that a messenger arrived from the king to this
officer, requiring his immediate presence at Winchester, on a matter of
life and death. So great was his haste to obey the king's command, that he
mounted on the horse behind the messenger, and rode off, without bestowing
a thought upon poor Nixon. He did not return till three days afterwards,
when, remembering the prophet for the first time, he went to the king's
closet, and found him lying upon the floor, starved to death, as he had
predicted.
Among the prophecies of his which are believed to have been fulfilled are
the following, which relate to the times of the Pretender:
"_A great man shall come into England,
But the son of a king
Shall take from him the victory._"
"_Crows shall drink the blood of many nobles,
And the North shall rise against the South._"
"_The coek of the North shall be made to flee,
And his feather be plucked for his pride,
That he shall almost curse the day that he was born._"
All these, say his admirers, are as clear as the sun at noon-day. The
first denotes the defeat of Prince Charles Edward, at the battle of
Culloden, by the Duke of Cumberland; the second, the execution of Lords
Derwentwater, Balmerino, and Lovat; and the third, the retreat of the
Pretender from the shores of Britain. Among the prophecies that still
remain to be accomplished are the following:
"_Between seven, eight, and nine,
In England wonders shall be seen;
Between nine and thirteen
All sorrow shall be done._"
"_Through our own money and our men
Shall a dreadful war begin.
Between the sickle and the suck
All England shall have a pluck._"
"_Foreign nations shall invade England with snow on their helmets, and
shall bring plague, famine, and murder in the skirts of their garments._"
"_The town of Nantwich shall be swept away by a flood._"
Of the two first of these no explanation has yet been attempted; but some
event or other will doubtless be twisted into such a shape as will fit
them. The third, relative to the invasion of England by a nation with snow
on their helmets, is supposed by the old women to foretell most clearly a
coming war with Russia. As to the last, there are not a few in the town
mentioned who devoutly believe that such will be its fate. Happily for
their peace of mind, the prophet said nothing of the year that was to
witness the awful calamity; so that they think it as likely to be two
centuries hence as now.
The popular biographers of Nixon conclude their account of him by saying,
that "his prophecies are by some persons thought fables; yet by what has
come to pass, it is now thought, and very plainly appears, that most of
them have proved, or will prove, true; for which we, on all occasions,
ought not only to exert our utmost might to repel by force our enemies,
but to refrain from our abandoned and wicked course of life, and to make
our continual prayer to God for protection and safety." To this, though a
_non sequitur_, every one will cry, Amen!
Besides the prophets, there have been the almanac-makers Lilly, Poor
Robin, Partridge, and Francis Moore physician, in England and Matthew
Laensbergh, in France and Belgium. But great as were their pretensions,
they were modesty itself in comparison with Merlin, Shipton, and Nixon,
who fixed their minds upon higher things than the weather, and were not so
restrained as to prophesy for only one year at a time. After such prophets
the almanac-makers hardly deserve to be mentioned; not even the renowned
Partridge, whose prognostications set all England agog in 1708, and whose
death while still alive was so pleasantly and satisfactorily proved by
Isaac Bickerstaff. The anti-climax would be too palpable, and they and
their doings must be left uncommemorated.
[Illustration: MOTHER SHIPTON'S HOUSE.[57]]
[57] Although other places claim the honour(!) of Mother Shipton's
birth, her residence is asserted, by oral tradition, to have
been for many years a cottage at Winslow-cum-Shipton, in
Buckinghamshire, of which the above is a representation. We
give the contents of one of the popular books containing her
prophecies:
_The Strange and Wonderful History and Prophecies of Mother
Shipton, plainly setting forth her Birth, Life, Death, and
Burial._ 12mo. Newcastle. Chap. 1.--Of her birth and
parentage. 2. How Mother Shipton's mother proved with child;
how she fitted the justice, and what happened at her
delivery. 3. By what name Mother Shipton was christened, and
how her mother went into a monastery. 4. Several other pranks
play'd by Mother Shipton in revenge of such as abused her. 5.
How Ursula married a young man named Tobias Shipton, and how
strangely she discovered a thief. 6. Her prophecy against
Cardinal Wolsey. 7. Some other prophecies of Mother Shipton
relating to those times. 8. Her prophecies in verse to the
Abbot of Beverly. 9. Mother Shipton's life, death, and
burial.
FORTUNE-TELLING.
And men still grope t' anticipate
The cabinet designs of Fate;
Apply to wizards to foresee
What shall and what shall never be.
_Hudibras_, part iii. canto 3.
In accordance with the plan laid down, we proceed to the consideration of
the follies into which men have been led by their eager desire to pierce
the thick darkness of futurity. God himself, for his own wise purposes,
has more than once undrawn the impenetrable veil which shrouds those awful
secrets; and, for purposes just as wise, he has decreed that, except in
these instances, ignorance shall be our lot for ever. It is happy for man
that he does not know what the morrow is to bring forth; but, unaware of
this great blessing, he has, in all ages of the world, presumptuously
endeavoured to trace the events of unborn centuries, and anticipate the
march of time. He has reduced this presumption into a study. He has
divided it into sciences and systems without number, employing his whole
life in the vain pursuit. Upon no subject has it been so easy to deceive
the world as upon this. In every breast the curiosity exists in a greater
or less degree, and can only be conquered by a long course of
self-examination, and a firm reliance that the future would not be hidden
from our sight, if it were right that we should be acquainted with it.
An undue opinion of our own importance in the scale of creation is at the
bottom of all our unwarrantable notions in this respect. How flattering to
the pride of man to think that the stars in their courses watch over him,
and typify, by their movements and aspects, the joys or the sorrows that
await him! He, less in proportion to the universe than the all-but
invisible insects that feed in myriads on a summer's leaf are to this
great globe itself, fondly imagines that eternal worlds were chiefly
created to prognosticate his fate. How we should pity the arrogance of the
worm that crawls at our feet, if we knew that it also desired to know the
secrets of futurity, and imagined that meteors shot athwart the sky to
warn it that a tom-tit was hovering near to gobble it up; that storms and
earthquakes, the revolutions of empires, or the fall of mighty monarchs,
only happened to predict its birth, its progress, and its decay! Not a
whit less presuming has man shewn himself; not a whit less arrogant are
the sciences, so called, of astrology, augury, necromancy, geomancy,
palmistry, and divination of every kind.
Leaving out of view the oracles of pagan antiquity and religious
predictions in general, and confining ourselves solely to the persons who,
in modern times, have made themselves most conspicuous in foretelling the
future, we shall find that the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries were
the golden age of these impostors. Many of them have been already
mentioned in their character of alchymists. The union of the two
pretensions is not at all surprising. It was to be expected that those who
assumed a power so preposterous as that of prolonging the life of man for
several centuries, should pretend, at the same time, to foretell the
events which were to mark that preternatural span of existence. The world
would as readily believe that they had discovered all secrets, as that
they had only discovered one. The most celebrated astrologers of Europe,
three centuries ago, were alchymists. Agrippa, Paracelsus, Dr. Dee, and
the Rosicrucians, all laid as much stress upon their knowledge of the days
to come, as upon their pretended possession of the philosopher's stone and
the elixir of life. In their time, ideas of the wonderful, the diabolical,
and the supernatural, were rifer than ever they were before. The devil or
the stars were universally believed to meddle constantly in the affairs of
men; and both were to be consulted with proper ceremonies. Those who were
of a melancholy and gloomy temperament betook themselves to necromancy and
sorcery; those more cheerful and aspiring devoted themselves to astrology.
The latter science was encouraged by all the monarchs and governments of
that age. In England, from the time of Elizabeth to that of William and
Mary, judicial astrology was in high repute. During that period flourished
Drs. Dee, Lamb, and Forman; with Lilly, Booker, Gadbury, Evans, and scores
of nameless impostors in every considerable town and village in the
country, who made it their business to cast nativities, aid in the
recovery of stolen goods, prognosticate happy or unhappy marriages,
predict whether journeys would be prosperous, and note lucky moments for
the commencement of any enterprise, from the setting up of a cobbler's
shop to the marching of an army. Men who, to use the words of Butler, did
"Deal in Destiny's dark counsel,
And sage opinion of the moon sell;
To whom all people far and near
On deep importance did repair,
When brass and pewter pots did stray,
And linen slunk out of the way."
[Illustration: HENRY ANDREWS, THE ORIGINAL "FRANCIS MOORE."]