Some years ago I offered the suggestion that the test for the primary

initiation, that into the sources of physical life, would probably

consist in a contact with the horrors of physical death, and that the

tradition of the Perilous Chapel, which survives in the Grail romances

in confused and contaminated form, was a reminiscence of the test for

this lower initiation.[14] This would fully account for the importance

ascribed to it in the _Bleheris-Gawain_ form, and for the asserted

connection with the Grail. It was not till I came to study the version

of the _Perlesvaus_, with a view to determining its original

_provenance_, that I recognized its extreme importance for critical

purposes. The more one studies this wonderful legend the more one

discovers significance in what seem at first to be entirely independent

and unrelated details. If the reader will refer to my Notes on the

_Perlesvaus_, above referred to, he will find that the result of an

investigation into the evidence for _locale_ pointed to the conclusion

that the author of the _Histoire de Fulk Fitz-Warin_ and most probably

also the author of the _Perlesvaus_ before him, were mistaken in their

identification, that there was no tradition of any such Chapel in

Shropshire, and consequently no tale of its foundation, such as the

author of the _Histoire_ relates. But I was also able to show that

further north, in Northumberland, there was also a Blanchland,

connected with the memory of King Arthur, numerous dedications to Saint

Austin, and a tradition of that Saint driving out the local demons

closely analogous to the tale told of the presumed Shropshire site. I

therefore suggested that inasmuch as the _Perlesvaus_ represented

Arthur as holding his court at Cardoil (Carlisle), the Northern

Blanchland, which possessed a Chapel of Saint Austin, and lay within

easy reach, was probably the original site rather than the Shropshire

Blaunche Launde, which had no Chapel, and was much further away.

Now in view of the evidence set forth in the last chapter, is it not

clear that this was a locality in which these semi-Pagan,

semi-Christian, rites, might, _prima facie_, be expected to linger on?

It is up here, along the Northern border, that the Roman legionaries

were stationed; it is here that we find monuments and memorials of

their heathen cults; obviously this was a locality where the

demon-hunting activities of the Saint might find full scope for action.

I would submit that there is at least presumptive evidence that we may

here be dealing with the survival of a genuine tradition.

And should any of my readers find it difficult to believe that, even

did initiations take place, and even were they of a character that

involved a stern test of mental and physical endurance—and I imagine

most scholars would admit that there was, possibly, more in the

original institutions, than, let us say, in a modern admission to

Free-Masonry—yet it is ‘a far cry’ from pre-Christian initiations to

Medieval Romance, and a connection between the two is a rash postulate,

I would draw their attention to the fact that, quite apart from our

Grail texts, we possess a romance which is, plainly, and blatantly,

nothing more or less than such a record. I refer, of course, to _Owain

Miles_, or _The Purgatory of Saint Patrick_, where we have an account

of the hero, after purification by fasting and prayer, descending into

the Nether World, passing through the abodes of the Lost, finally

reaching Paradise, and returning to earth after Three Days, a reformed

and regenerated character.[15]

“Then with his monks the Prior anon,

With Crosses and with Gonfanon

Went to that hole forthright,

Thro’ which Knight Owain went below,

There, as of burning fire the glow,

They saw a gleam of light;

And right amidst that beam of light

He came up, Owain, God’s own knight,

By this knew every man

That he in Paradise had been,

And Purgatory’s pains had seen,

And was a holy man.”

Now if we turn to Bousset’s article _Himmelfahrt der Seele_, to which I

have previously referred (p. —-), we shall find abundant evidence that

such a journey to the Worlds beyond was held to be a high spiritual

adventure of actual possibility—a venture to be undertaken by those

who, greatly daring, felt that the attainment of actual knowledge of

the Future Life was worth all the risks, and they were great and

terrible, which such an enterprise involved.

Bousset comments fully on Saint Paul’s claim to have been ‘caught up

into the Third Heaven’ and points out that such an experience was the

property of the Rabbinical school to which Saul of Tarsus had belonged,

and was brought over by him from his Jewish past; such experiences were

rare in Orthodox Christianity.[16] According to Jewish classical

tradition but one Rabbi had successfully passed the test, other

aspirants either failing at a preliminary stage, or, if they

persevered, losing their senses permanently. The practice of this

ecstatic ascent ceased among Jews in the second century A.D.

Bousset also gives instances of the soul leaving the body for three

days, and wandering through other worlds, both good and evil, and also

discusses the origin of the bridge which must be crossed to reach

Paradise, both features characteristic of the _Owain_ poem.[17] In fact

the whole study is of immense importance for a critical analysis of the

sources of the romance in question.

And here I would venture to beg the adherents of the ‘Celtic’ school to

use a little more judgment in their attribution of sources. Visits to

the Otherworld are not _always_ derivations from Celtic Fairy-lore.

Unless I am mistaken the root of this theme is far more deeply imbedded

than in the shifting sands of Folk and Fairy tale. I believe it to be

essentially a Mystery tradition; the Otherworld is not a myth, but a

reality, and in all ages there have been souls who have been willing to

brave the great adventure, and to risk all for the chance of bringing

back with them some assurance of the future life. Naturally these

ventures passed into tradition with the men who risked them. The early

races of men became semi-mythic, their beliefs, their experiences,

receded into a land of mist, where their figures assumed fantastic

outlines, and the record of their deeds departed more and more widely

from historic accuracy.

The poets and dreamers wove their magic webs, and a world apart from

the world of actual experience came to life. But it was not all myth,

nor all fantasy; there was a basis of truth and reality at the

foundation of the mystic growth, and a true criticism will not rest

content with wandering in these enchanted lands, and holding all it

meets with for the outcome of human imagination.

The truth may lie very deep down, but it is there, and it is worth

seeking, and Celtic fairy-tales, charming as they are, can never afford

a satisfactory, or abiding, resting place. I, for one, utterly refuse

to accept such as an adequate goal for a life’s research. A path that

leads but into a Celtic Twilight can only be a by-path, and not the

King’s Highway!

The Grail romances repose eventually, not upon a poet’s imagination,

but upon the ruins of an august and ancient ritual, a ritual which once

claimed to be the accredited guardian of the deepest secrets of Life.

Driven from its high estate by the relentless force of religious

evolution—for after all Adonis, Attis, and their congeners, were but

the ‘half-gods’ who must needs yield place when ‘the Gods’ themselves

arrive—it yet lingered on; openly, in Folk practice, in Fast and Feast,

whereby the well-being of the land might be assured; secretly, in cave

or mountain-fastness, or island isolation, where those who craved for a

more sensible (not necessarily sensuous) contact with the unseen

Spiritual forces of Life than the orthodox development of Christianity

afforded, might, and did, find satisfaction.

Were the Templars such? Had they, when in the East, come into touch

with a survival of the Naassene, or some kindred sect? It seems

exceedingly probable. If it were so we could understand at once the

puzzling connection of the Order with the Knights of the Grail, and the

doom which fell upon them. That they were held to be Heretics is very

generally admitted, but in what their Heresy consisted no one really

knows; little credence can be attached to the stories of idol worship

often repeated. If their Heresy, however, were such as indicated above,

a Creed which struck at the very root and vitals of Christianity, we

can understand at once the reason for punishment, and the necessity for

secrecy. In the same way we can now understand why the Church knows

nothing of the Grail; why that Vessel, surrounded as it is with an

atmosphere of reverence and awe, equated with the central Sacrament of

the Christian Faith, yet appears in no Legendary, is figured in no

picture, comes on the scene in no Passion Play. The Church of the

eleventh and twelfth centuries knew well what the Grail was, and we,

when we realize its genesis and true lineage, need no longer wonder why

a theme, for some short space so famous and so fruitful a source of

literary inspiration, vanished utterly and completely from the world of

literature.

Were Grail romances forbidden? Or were they merely discouraged?

Probably we shall never know, but of this one thing we may be sure, the

Grail is a living force, it will never die; it may indeed sink out of

sight, and, for centuries even, disappear from the field of literature,

but it will rise to the surface again, and become once more a theme of

vital inspiration even as, after slumbering from the days of Malory, it

woke to new life in the nineteenth century, making its fresh appeal

through the genius of Tennyson and Wagner.

CHAPTER XIV

The Author

Having now completed our survey of the various elements which have

entered into the composite fabric of the Grail Legend, the question

naturally arises where, and when, did that legend assume romantic form,

and to whom should we ascribe its literary origin?

On these crucial points the evidence at our disposal is far from

complete, and we can do little more than offer suggestions towards the

solution of the problem.

With regard to the first point, that of locality, the evidence is

unmistakably in favour of a Celtic, specifically a Welsh, source. As a

literary theme the Grail is closely connected with the Arthurian

tradition. The protagonist is one of Arthur’s knights, and the hero of

the earlier version, Gawain, is more closely connected with Arthur than

are his successors, Perceval and Galahad. The Celtic origin of both

Gawain and Perceval is beyond doubt; and the latter is not merely a

Celt, but is definitely Welsh; he is always ‘li Gallois.’ Galahad I

hold to be a literary, and not a traditional, hero; he is the product

of deliberate literary invention, and has no existence outside the

frame of the later cyclic redactions. It is not possible at the present

moment to say whether the _Queste_ was composed in the British Isles,

or on the continent, but we may safely lay it down as a basic principle

that the original Grail heroes are of insular origin, and that the

Grail legend, in its romantic, and literary, form is closely connected

with British pseudo-historical tradition.

The beliefs and practices of which, if the theory maintained in these

pages be correct, the Grail stories offer a more or less coherent

survival can be shown, on the evidence of historic monuments, and

surviving Folk-customs, to have been popular throughout the area of the

British Isles; while, with regard to the higher teaching of which I

hold these practices to have been the vehicle, Pliny comments upon the

similarity existing between the ancient Magian Gnosis and the Druidical

Gnosis of Gaul and Britain, an indication which, in the dearth of

accurate information concerning the teaching of the Druids, is of

considerable value.[1]

As we noted in the previous chapter, an interesting parallel exists

between Wales, and localities, such as the Alps, and the Vosges, where

we have definite proof that these Mystery cults lingered on after they

had disappeared from public celebration. The Chart appended to Cumont’s

_Monuments de Mithra_ shows Mithraic remains in precisely the locality

where we have reason to believe certain of the _Gawain_ and _Perceval_

stories to have originated.

As to the date of origin, that, of course, is closely connected with

the problem of authorship; if we can, with any possibility, identify

the author we can approximately fix the date. So far as the literary

evidence is concerned, we have no trace of the story before the twelfth

century, but when we do meet with it, it is already in complete, and

crystallized, form. More, there is already evidence of competing

versions; we have no existing Grail romance which we can claim to be

free from contamination, and representing in all respects the original

form.

There is no need here to go over old, and well-trodden, ground; in my

studies of the _Perceval_ Legend, and in the later popular _résumé_ of

the evidence,[2] _The Quest of the Holy Grail_, I have analysed the

texts, and shown that, while the poem of Chrétien de Troyes is our

earliest surviving literary version, there is the strongest possible

evidence that Chrétien, as he himself admits, was not inventing, but

re-telling, an already popular tale.[3] The Grail Quest was a theme

which had been treated not once nor twice, but of which numerous, and

conflicting, versions were already current, and, when Wauchier de

Denain undertook to complete Chrétien’s unfinished work, he drew

largely upon these already existing forms, regardless of the fact that

they not only contradicted the version they were ostensibly completing,

but were impossible to harmonize with each other.

It is of importance for our investigation, however, to note that where

Wauchier does refer to a definite source, it is to an evidently

important and already famous collection of tales, _Le Grant Conte_,

comprising several ‘Branches,’ the hero of the collection being not

Chrétien’s hero, Perceval, but Gawain, who, both in pseudo-historic and

romantic tradition, is far more closely connected with the Arthurian

legend, occupying, as he does, the traditional position of nephew,

Sister’s Son, to the monarch who is the centre of the cycle; even as

Cuchullinn is sister’s son to Conchobar, Diarmid to Finn, Tristan to

Mark, and Roland to Charlemagne. In fact this relationship was so

obviously required by tradition that we find Perceval figuring now as

sister’s son to Arthur, now to the Grail King, according as the

Arthurian, or the Grail, tradition dominates the story.[4]

The actual existence of such a group of tales as those referred to by

Wauchier derives confirmation from our surviving _Gawain_ poems, as

well as from the references in the _Elucidation_, and on the evidence

at our disposal I have ventured to suggest the hypothesis of a group of

poems, dealing with the adventures of Gawain, his son, and brother, the

_ensemble_ being originally known as _The Geste of Syr Gawayne_, a

title which, in the inappropriate form _The Jest of Sir Gawain_, is

preserved in the English version of that hero’s adventure with the

sister of Brandelis.[5] So keen a critic as Dr Brugger has not

hesitated to accept the theory of the existence of this _Geste_, and is

of opinion that the German poem _Diû Crône_ may, in part at least, be

derived from this source.

The central adventure ascribed to Gawain in this group of tales is

precisely the visit to the Grail Castle to which we have already

referred, and we have pointed out that the manner in which it is

related, its directness, simplicity, and conformity with what we know

of the Mystery teaching presumably involved, taken in connection with

the personality of the hero, and his position in Arthurian romantic

tradition, appear to warrant us in assigning to it the position of

priority among the conflicting versions we possess.

At two points in the re-telling of these _Gawain_ tales Wauchier

definitely refers to the author by name, Bleheris. On the second

occasion he states categorically that this Bleheris was of Welsh birth

and origin, _né et engenuïs en Galles_, and that he told the tale in

connection with which the statement is made to a certain Comte de

Poitiers, whose favourite story it was, he loved it above all others,

which would imply that it was not the only tale Bleheris had told

him.[6]

As we have seen in a previous chapter, the _Elucidation_ prefaces its

account of the Grail Quest by a solemn statement of the gravity of the

subject to be treated, and a warning of the penalties which would

follow on a careless revelation of the secret. These warnings are put

into the mouth of a certain Master Blihis, concerning whom we hear no

more. A little further on in the poem we meet with a knight,

Blihos-Bliheris, who, made prisoner by Gawain, reveals to Arthur and

his court the identity of the maidens wandering in the woods, of the

Fisher King, and the Grail, and is so good a story-teller that none can

weary of listening to his tales.[7]

Again, in the fragmentary remains of Thomas’s _Tristan_ we have a

passage in which the poet refers, as source, to a certain Bréri, who

knew “all the feats, and all the tales, of all the kings, and all the

counts who had lived in Britain.”[8]

Finally, Giraldus Cambrensis refers to _famosus ille fabulator_,

Bledhericus, who had lived “shortly before our time” and whose renown

he evidently takes for granted was familiar to his readers.

Now are we to hold that the Bleheris who, according to Wauchier, had

told tales concerning Gawain, and Arthur’s court, one of whic tales was

certainly the Grail adventure; the Master Blihis, who knew the Grail

mystery, and gave solemn warning against its revelation; the

Blihos-Bliheris, who knew the Grail, and many other tales; the Bréri,

who knew all the legendary tales concerning the princes of Britain; and

the famous story-teller Bledhericus, of whom Giraldus speaks, are

distinct and separate personages, or mere inventions of the separate

writers, or do all these passages refer to one and the same individual,

who, in that case, may well have deserved the title _famosus ille

fabulator?_

With regard to the attitude taken up by certain critics, that no

evidential value can be attached to these references, I would point out

that when Medieval writers quote an authority for their statements

they, as a rule, refer to a writer whose name carries weight, and will

impress their readers; they are offering a guarantee for the

authenticity of their statements. The special attribution may be purely

fictitious but the individual referred to enjoys an established

reputation. Thus, the later cyclic redactions of the Arthurian romances

are largely attributed to Walter Map, who, in view of his public

position, and political activities, could certainly never have had the

leisure to compose one half of the literature with which he is

credited! In the same way Robert de Borron, Chrétien de Troyes, Wolfram

von Eschenbach, are all referred to as sources without any

justification in fact. Nor is it probable that Wauchier, who wrote on

the continent, and who, if he be really Wauchier de Denain, was under

the patronage of the Count of Flanders, would have gone out of his way

to invent a Welsh source.

Judging from analogy, the actual existence of a personage named

Bleheris, who enjoyed a remarkable reputation as a story-teller, is,

_prima facie_, extremely probable.[9]

But are these references independent, was there more than one Bleheris?

I think not. The name is a proper, and not a family, name. In the

latter case it might be possible to argue that we were dealing with

separate members of a family, or group, of bardic poets, whose office

it was to preserve, and relate, the national legends. But we are

dealing with variants of a proper name, and that of distinctly insular,

and Welsh origin.[10]

The original form, Bledri, was by no means uncommon in Wales: from that

point of view there might well have been four or five, or even more, of

that name, but that each and all of these should have possessed the

same qualifications, should have been equally well versed in popular

traditions, equally dowered with the gift of story-telling, on equally

friendly terms with the Norman invaders, and equally possessed of such

a knowledge of the French language as should permit them to tell their

stories in that tongue, is, I submit, highly improbable. This latter

point, _i.e._, the knowledge of French, seems to me to be of crucial

importance. Given the relations between conqueror and conquered, and

the _intransigeant_ character of Welsh patriotism, the men who were on

sufficiently friendly terms with the invaders to be willing to relate

the national legends, with an assurance of finding a sympathetic

hearing, must have been few and far between. I do not think the

importance of this point has been sufficiently grasped by critics.

The problem then is to find a Welshman who, living at the end of the

eleventh and commencement of the twelfth centuries, was well versed in

the legendary lore of Britain; was of sufficiently good social status

to be well received at court; possessed a good knowledge of the French

tongue; and can be shown to have been on friendly terms with the Norman

nobles.

Mr Edward Owen, of the Cymmrodorion Society, has suggested that a

certain Welsh noble, Bledri ap Cadivor, fulfils, in a large measure,

the conditions required. Some years ago I published in the _Revue

Celtique_ a letter in which Mr Owen summarized the evidence at his

disposal. As the review in question may not be easily accessible to

some of my readers I will recapitulate the principal points.[11]

The father of Bledri, Cadivor, was a great personage in West Wales, and

is looked upon as the ancestor of the most important families in the

ancient Dyfed, a division now represented by Pembrokeshire, and the

Western portion of Carmarthen. (We may note here that the traditional

tomb of Gawain is at Ross in Pembrokeshire, and that there is reason to

believe that the _Perceval_ story, in its earliest form, was connected

with that locality.)

Cadivor had three sons, of whom Bledri was the eldest; thus, at his

father’s death, he would be head of this ancient and distinguished

family. At the division of the paternal estates Bledri inherited, as

his share, lands ranging along the right bank of the lower Towey, and

the coast of South Pembrokeshire, extending as far as Manorbeer, the

birthplace of Giraldus Cambrensis. (This is again a geographical

indication which should be borne in mind.) Cadivor himself appears to

have been on friendly terms with the Normans; he is said to have

entertained William the Conqueror on his visit to St David’s in 1080,

while every reference we have to Bledri shows him in close connection

with the invaders.

Thus, in 1113 the _Brut-y-Tywysogion_ mentions his name as ally of the

Norman knights in their struggle to maintain their ground in, and

around, Carmarthen. In 1125 we find his name as donor of lands to the

Augustinian Church of St John the Evangelist, and St Theuloc of

Carmarthen, newly founded by Henry I. Here his name appears with the

significant title _Latinarius_ (The Interpreter), a qualification

repeated in subsequent charters of the same collection. In one of these

we find Griffith, the son of Bledri, confirming his father’s gift.

Professor Lloyd, in an article in _Archaeologia Cambrensis_, July 1907,

has examined these charters, and considers the grant to have been made

between 1129 and 1134, the charter itself being of the reign of Henry

I, 1101-1135.[12]

In the Pipe Roll of Henry I, 1131, Bledri’s name is entered as debtor

for a fine incurred by the killing of a Fleming by his men; while a

highly significant entry records the fine of 7 marks imposed upon a

certain Bleddyn of Mabedrud and his brothers for outraging Bledri’s

daughter. When we take into consideration the rank of Bledri, this

insult to his family by a fellow Welshman would seem to indicate that

his relations with his compatriots were not of a specially friendly

character.

Mr Owen also points out that portion of the _Brut-y-Tywysogion_ which

covers the years 1101-20 (especially the events of the year 1113, where

we find Bledri, and other friendly Welsh nobles, holding the castle of

Carmarthen for the Normans against the Welsh), is related at an

altogether disproportionate length, and displays a strong bias in

favour of the invaders. The year just referred to, for instance,

occupies more than twice the space assigned to any other year. Mr Owen

suggests that here Bledri himself may well have been the chronicler; a

hypothesis which, if he really be the author we are seeking, is quite

admissible.

So far as indications of date are concerned, Bledri probably lived

between the years 1070-1150. His father Cadivor died in 1089, and his

lands were divided between his sons of whom Bledri, as we have seen,

was the eldest. Thus they cannot have been children at that date;

Bledri, at least, would have been born before 1080. From the evidence

of the Pipe Roll we know that he was living in 1131. The charter signed

by his son, confirmatory of his grant, must have been subsequent to

1148, as it was executed during the Episcopate of David, Bishop of St

David’s 1148-1176. Thus the period of 80 years suggested above

(1070-1150) may be taken as covering the extreme limit to be assigned

to his life, and activity.

The passage in which Giraldus Cambrensis refers to _Bledhericus,

famosus ille fabulator who tempora nostra paulo praevenit_, was written

about 1194; thus it might well refer to a man who had died some 40 or

50 years previously. As we have noted above, Giraldus was born upon

ground forming a part of Bledri’s ancestral heritage, and thus might

well be familiar with his fame.

The evidence is of course incomplete, but it does provide us with a

personality fulfilling the main conditions of a complex problem. Thus,

we have a man of the required name, and nationality; living at an

appropriate date; of the requisite social position; on excellent terms

with the French nobles, and so well acquainted with their language as

to sign himself officially ‘The Interpreter.’ We have no direct

evidence of his literary skill, or knowledge of the traditional history

of his country, but a man of his birth could scarcely have failed to

possess the latter, while certain peculiarities in that section of the

national Chronicle which deals with the aid given by him to the Norman

invaders would seem to indicate that Bledri himself may well have been

responsible for the record. Again, we know him to have been closely

connected with the locality from which came the writer who refers to

the famous story-teller of the same name. I would submit that we have

here quite sufficient evidence to warrant us in accepting Bledri ap

Cadivor as, at least, the possible author of the romantic Grail

tradition. In any case, so far, there is no other candidate in the

field.[13]

Shortly after the publication of the second volume of my _Perceval_

studies, I received a letter from Professor Singer, in which, after

expressing his general acceptance of the theories there advanced, in

especial of the suggested date and relation of the different versions,

which he characterized as “_sehr gelungen, und zu meiner Alffassung der

Entwickelung der Altfranzösischen Literatur sehr zu stimmen_,” he

proceeded to comment upon the probable character of the literary

activity of Bleheris. His remarks are so interesting and suggestive

that I venture to submit them for the consideration of my readers.

Professor Singer points out that in Eilhart von Oberge’s _Tristan_ we

find the name in the form of _Pleherin_ attached to a knight of

_Mark’s_ court. The same name in a slightly varied form, _Pfelerin_,

occurs in the _Tristan_ of Heinrich von Freiberg; both poems, Professor

Singer considers, are derived from a French original. Under a compound

form, _Blihos_, (or _Blio_)-_Bliheris_, he appears, in the

_Gawain-Grail_ compilation, as a knight at _Arthur’s_ court. Now

_Bréri-Blihis-Bleheris_ is referred to as authority alike in the

_Tristan_, _Grail_ and _Gawain_ tradition, and Professor Singer makes

the interesting suggestion that these references are originally due to

Bleheris himself, who not only told the stories in the third person (a

common device at that period, _v_. Chrétien’s _Erec_, and Gerbert’s

continuation of the _Perceval_), but also introduced himself as

eye-witness of, and actor, in a subordinate _rôle_, in, the incidents

he recorded. Thus in the Tristan he is a knight of Mark’s, in the

_Elucidation_ and the _Gawain_ stories a knight of Arthur’s, court.

Professor Singer instances the case of Dares in the _De exidio Trojae_,

and Bishop Pilgrim of Passau in the lost _Nibelungias_ of his secretary

Konrad, as illustrations of the theory.

If this be the case such a statement as that which we find in Wauchier,

regarding Bleheris’s birth and origin, would have emanated from

Bleheris himself, and simply been taken over by the later writer from

his source; he incorporated the whole tale of the shield as it stood, a

quite natural and normal proceeding.[14] Again, this suggestion would

do away with the necessity for postulating a certain lapse of time

before the story-teller Bleheris could be converted into an Arthurian

knight—the two _rôles_, _Gewährsmann und Mithandelnden_, as Professor

Singer expresses it, are coincident in date. I would also suggest that

the double form, _Blihos-Bliheris_, would have been adopted by the

author himself, to indicate the identity of the two, Blihis, and

Bleheris. It is worthy of note that, when dealing directly with the

Grail, he assumes the title of _Master_, which would seem to indicate

that here he claimed to speak with special authority.

I sent the letter in question to the late Mr Alfred Nutt, who was

forcibly struck with the possibilities involved in the suggestion, the

full application of which he thought the writer had not grasped. I

quote the following passages from the long letter I received from him

in return.

“Briefly put we presuppose the existence of a set of semi-dramatic,

semi-narrative, poems, in which a Bledri figures as an active, and at

the same time a recording, personage. Now that such a body of

literature _may_ have existed we are entitled to assume from the fact

that two such have survived, one from Wales, in the Llywarch Hen cycle,

the other from Ireland, in the Finn Saga. In both cases, the fact that

the descriptive poems are put in the mouth, in Wales of Llywarch, in

Ireland largely of Oisin, led to the ascription at an early date of the

whole literature to Llywarch and Oisin. It is therefore conceivable

that a Welsh ‘littérateur,’ familiar as he must have been with the

Llywarch, and as he quite possibly was with the Oisin, instance, should

cast his version of the Arthurian stories in a similar form, and that

the facts noted by you and Singer may be thus explained.”

Now that both Professor Singer (who has an exceptionally wide knowledge

of Medieval literature), and the late Mr Alfred Nutt, knew what they

were talking about, does not need to be emphasized, and the fact that

two such competent authorities should agree upon a possible solution of

a puzzling literary problem, makes that solution worthy of careful

consideration; it would certainly have the merit of simplifying the

question and deserves to be placed upon record.

But while it would of course be far more satisfactory could one

definitely place, and label, the man to whom we owe the original

conception which gave birth and impetus to this immortal body of

literature, yet the precise identity of the author of the earliest

Grail romance is of the accident, rather than the essence, of our

problem. Whether Bleheris the Welshman be, or be not, identical with

Bledri ap Cadivor, Interpreter, and friend of the Norman nobles, the

general hypothesis remains unaffected and may be thus summarized—

The Grail story is not _du fond en comble_ the product of imagination,

literary or popular. At its root lies the record, more or less

distorted, of an ancient Ritual, having for its ultimate object the

initiation into the secret of the sources of Life, physical and

spiritual. This ritual, in its lower, exoteric, form, as affecting the

processes of Nature, and physical life, survives to-day, and can be

traced all over the world, in Folk ceremonies, which, however widely

separated the countries in which they are found, show a surprising

identity of detail and intention. In its esoteric ‘Mystery’ form it was

freely utilized for the imparting of high spiritual teaching concerning

the relation of Man to the Divine Source of his being, and the

possibility of a sensible union between Man, and God. The recognition

of the cosmic activities of the Logos appears to have been a

characteristic feature of this teaching, and when Christianity came

upon the scene it did not hesitate to utilize the already existing

medium of instruction, but boldly identified the Deity of Vegetation,

regarded as Life Principle, with the God of the Christian Faith. Thus,

to certain of the early Christians, Attis was but an earlier

manifestation of the Logos, Whom they held identical with Christ. The

evidence of the Naassene document places this beyond any shadow of

doubt, and is of inestimable value as establishing a link between

pre-Christian, and Christian, Mystery tradition.

This curious synthetic belief, united as it was with the highly popular

cult of Mithra, travelled with the foreign legionaries, adherents of

that cult, to the furthest bounds of the Roman Empire, and when the

struggle between Mithraism and Christianity ended in the definite

triumph of the latter, by virtue of that dual synthetic nature, the

higher ritual still survived, and was celebrated in sites removed from

the centres of population—in caves, and mountain fastnesses; in

islands, and on desolate sea-coasts.

The earliest version of the Grail story, represented by our Bleheris

form, relates the visit of a wandering knight to one of these hidden

temples; his successful passing of the test into the lower grade of

Life initiation, his failure to attain to the highest degree. It

matters little whether it were the record of an actual, or of a

possible, experience; the casting into romantic form of an event which

the story-teller knew to have happened, had, perchance, actually

witnessed; or the objective recital of what he knew _might_ have

occurred; the essential fact is that the _mise-en-scène_ of the story,

the nomenclature, the march of incident, the character of the tests,

correspond to what we know from independent sources of the details of

this Nature Ritual. The Grail Quest was actually possible then, it is

actually possible to-day, for the indication of two of our romances as

to the final location of the Grail is not imagination, but the record

of actual fact.

As first told the story preserved its primal character of a composite

between Christianity and the Nature Ritual, as witnessed by the

ceremony over the bier of the Dead Knight, the procession with Cross

and incense, and the solemn Vespers for the Dead. This, I suspect,

correctly represents the final stage of the process by which

Attis-Adonis was identified with Christ. Thus, in its first form the

story was the product of conscious intention.

But when the tale was once fairly launched as a romantic tale, and came

into the hands of those unfamiliar with its Ritual origin (though the

fact that it had such an origin was probably well understood), the

influence of the period came into play. The Crusades, and the

consequent traffic in relics, especially in relics of the Passion,

caused the identification of the sex Symbols, Lance and Cup, with the

Weapon of the Crucifixion, and the Cup of the Last Supper; but the

Christianization was merely external, the tale, as a whole, retaining

its pre-Christian character.

The conversion into a definitely Christian romance seems to have been

due to two causes. First, the rivalry between the two great monastic

houses of Glastonbury and Fescamp, the latter of which was already in

possession of a genuine _Saint-Sang_ relic, and fully developed

tradition. There is reason to suppose that the initial combination of

the Grail and _Saint-Sang_ traditions took place at Fescamp, and was

the work of some member of the minstrel Guild attached to that Abbey.

But the Grail tradition was originally British; Glastonbury was from

time immemorial a British sanctuary; it was the reputed burial place of

Arthur, of whose court the Grail Quest was the crowning adventure; the

story must be identified with British soil. Consequently a version was

composed, now represented by our _Perlesvaus_ text, in which the union

of Nicodemus of Fescamp, and Joseph of Glastonbury, fame, as ancestors

of the Grail hero, offers a significant hint of the _provenance_ of the

version.

Secondly, a no less important element in the process was due to the

conscious action of Robert de Borron, who well understood the character

of his material, and radically remodelled the whole on the basis of the

triple Mystery tradition translated into terms of high Christian

Mysticism. A notable feature of Borron’s version is his utilization of

the tradition of the final Messianic Feast, in combination with his

Eucharistic symbolism, a combination thoroughly familiar to early

Christian Mystics.

Once started on a definitely romantic career, the Grail story rapidly

became a complex of originally divergent themes, the most important

stage in its development being the incorporation of the popular tale of

the Widow’s Son, brought up in the wilderness, and launched into the

world in a condition of absolute ignorance of men, and manners. The

_Perceval_ story is a charming story, but it has originally nothing

whatever to do with the Grail. The original tale, now best represented

by our English _Syr Percyvelle of Galles_, has no trace of Mystery

element; it is Folk-lore, pure and simple. I believe the connection

with the Grail legend to be purely fortuitous, and due to the fact that

the hero of the Folk-tale was known as ‘The Widow’s Son,’ which he

actually was, while this title represented in Mystery terminology a

certain grade of Initiation, and as such is preserved to-day in Masonic

ritual.[15]

Finally the rising tide of dogmatic Medievalism, with its crassly

materialistic view of the Eucharist; its insistence on the saving grace

of asceticism and celibacy; and its scarcely veiled contempt for women,

overwhelmed the original conception. Certain of the features of the

ancient ritual indeed survive, but they are factors of confusion,

rather than clues to enlightenment. Thus, while the Grail still retains

its character of a Feeding Vessel, comes and goes without visible

agency, and supplies each knight with ‘such food and drink as he best

loved in the world,’ it is none the less the Chalice of the Sacred

Blood, and critics are sorely put to it to harmonize these conflicting

aspects. In the same way Galahad’s grandfather still bears the title of

the Rich Fisher, and there are confused references to a Land laid Waste

as the result of a Dolorous Stroke.

But while the terminology lingers on to our perplexity the characters

involved lie outside the march of the story; practically no trace of

the old Nature Ritual survives in the final _Queste_ form. The

remodelling is so radical that it seems most reasonable to conclude

that it was purposeful, that the original author of the _Queste_ had a

very clear idea of the real nature of the Grail, and was bent upon a

complete restatement in terms of current orthodoxy. I advisedly use

this term, as I see no trace in the _Queste_ of a genuine Mystic

conception, such as that of Borron. So far as criticism of the

literature is concerned I adhere to my previously expressed opinion

that the _Queste_ should be treated rather as a _Lancelot_ than as a

_Grail_ romance. It is of real importance in the evolution of the

Arthurian romantic cycle; as a factor in determining the true character

and origins of the Grail legend it is worse than useless; what remains

of the original features is so fragmentary, and so distorted, that any

attempt to use the version as basis for argument, or comparison, can

only introduce a further element of confusion into an already more than

sufficiently involved problem.

I am also still of opinion that the table of descent given on p. 283 of

Volume II. of my _Perceval_ studies, represents the most probable

evolution of the literature; at the same time, in the light of further

research, I should feel inclined to add the Grail section of _Sone de

Nansai_ as deriving from the same source which gave us Kiot’s poem, and

the _Perlesvaus_.[16] As evidence for a French original combining

important features of these two versions, and at the same time

retaining unmistakably archaic elements which have disappeared from

both, I hold this section of the poem to be of extreme value for the

criticism of the cycle.

While there are still missing links in the chain of descent, versions

to be reconstructed, writers to be identified, I believe that in its

_ensemble_ the theory set forth in these pages will be found to be the

only one which will satisfactorily meet all the conditions of the

problem; which will cover the whole ground of investigation, omitting

no element, evading no difficulty; which will harmonize apparently

hopeless contradictions, explain apparently meaningless terminology,

and thus provide a secure foundation for the criticism of a body of

literature as important as it is fascinating.

The study and the criticism of the Grail literature will possess an

even deeper interest, a more absorbing fascination, when it is

definitely recognized that we possess in that literature a unique

example of the restatement of an ancient and august Ritual in terms of

imperishable Romance.

NOTES

CHAPTER II

[1] MS. Bibl. Nat., f. Franç. 12576 fo. 90.

[2] _Ibid_. fo. 90_vo_, 91.

[3] _Diû Crône_ (ed. Stoll, Stuttgart, 1852). Cf. _Sir Gawain of the

Grail Castle_ for both versions.

[4] Cf. MS. B.N. 12576, fo. 154.

[5] _Perceval_, ed. Hucher, p. 466; Modena, p. 61.

[6] Cf. Hucher, p. 482; Modena, p. 82.

[7] _Perceval li Gallois_, ed. Potvin, ll. 6048-52.

[8] _Ib_. ll. 6056-60.

[9] Potvin, Vol. I. p. 15.

[10] _Ib_. p. 26.

[11] _Ib_. p. 86.

[12] _Ib_. pp. 176, 178.

[13] MS. B.N. 12576, ff. 221-222vo.

[14] _Mabinogion_, ed. Nutt, p. 282.

[15] Cf. _Peredur_ (ed. Nutt), pp. 282, 291-92.

[16] _Parzival_, Book v. ll. 947-50.

[17] _Ib_. Book VI. ll. 1078-80.

[18] _Parzival_, Book XVI, ll 275-86.

[19] Cf. _Morte Arthure_, Malory, Book XVII. Chap. 18. Note the remark

of Mordrains that his flesh which has waxen old shall become young

again.

[20] _Parzival_, Bk. IX. ll. 1388-92.

[21] _Sone de Nansai_ (ed. Goldschmidt, Stuttgart, 1899), ll 4775-76.

[22] _Sone de Nansai_, ll. 4841-56.

[23] It is evidently such a version as that of _Sone de Nansai_, and

_Parzival_, which underlies the curious statement of the _Merlin_ MS.

B.N. f. Fr. 337, where the wife of the Fisher King is known as ‘la Veve

Dame,’ while her husband is yet in life, though sorely wounded.

CHAPTER III

[1] Cf. _Rig-Veda Sanhita_, trans. H. H. Wilson, 6 vols. 1854-1888.

Vol. I. p. 88, v. 12. 172, v. 8 206, v. 10 Vol. III. p. 157, vv. 2, 5,

7, 8.

[2] _Zeitschrift der Deutschen Morgenlandischen Geschichte_, Vols.

XXXVII. and XXXIX.

[3] Cf. _Le Théatre Indien_, Paris, 1890.

[4] Cf. _Wiener Zeitsch, für die Kunde des Morgenlandes_, Vol. XVIII.

1904.

[5] Leipzig, 1908.

[6] _Op. cit_. p. 105.

[7] _Ib_. p. 230.

[8] _Ib_. p. 292, for sources, and variants of tale.

[9] On this point cf. Cornford, _Origin of Attic Comedy_, pp. 8, 78,

for importance of this feature.

[10] _Op. cit_. pp. 161-170, for general discussion of question, and

summary of authorities. Also pp. 297 _et seq_.

[11] Cf. _Legend of Sir Peceval_, Vol. I. Chapter 3.

[12] MS. Bibl. Nat., f. Fr. 12576, fo. 173. Cf. also _Legend of Sir

Perceval_, I. Chap. 4.

[13] Malory, _Le Morte Arthure_, Book XIV. Chaps. 8 and 9. Potvin, ll.

40420 _et seq_.

CHAPTER IV

[1] Cf. Frazer, _Adonis, Attis, Osiris_, p. 5.

[2] In this connection not only the epoch-making works of Mannhardt and

Frazer, which are more specifically devoted to an examination of

Folk-belief and practice should be studied, but also works such as _The

Mediaeval Stage_, E. K. Chambers; _Themis_, J. E. Harrison; _The Origin

of Attic Comedy_, F. Cornford; and Sir Gilbert Murray’s essay on the

evolution of the Greek Drama, published in Miss Harrison’s _Themis_.

The cumulative evidence is most striking.

[3] A full study of this evolutionary process will be found in Miss

Harrison’s _Themis, A Study of Greek Social Origins_, referred to

above.

[4] Baudissin, in his exhaustive study of these cults, _Adonis und

Esmun_, comes to the conclusion that Tammuz and Adonis are different

gods, owing their origin to a common parent deity. Where the original

conception arose is doubtful; whether in Babylon, in Canaan, or in a

land where the common ancestors of Phoenicians and Babylonian Semites

formed an original unit.

[5] Cf. _Tammuz and Ishtar_, S. Langdon, p. 5.

[6] It may be well to note here the the ‘Life’ deity has no proper

name; he is only known by an appellative; _Damu-zi, Damu_, ‘faithful

son,’ or ‘son and consort,’ is only a general epithet, which designates

the dying god in a theological aspect, just as the name _Adōni_, ‘my

lord,’ certainly replaced a more specific name for the god of Byblos.

_Esmun_ of Sidon, another type of Adonis, is a title only, and means

simply, ‘the name.’ Cf. Langdon, _op. cit_. p. 7. Cf. this with

previous passages on the evolution of the Greek idea from a nameless

entity to a definite god. Mr Langdon’s remarks on the evolution of the

Tammuz cult should be carefully studied in view of the theory

maintained by Sir W. Ridgeway—that the Vegetation deities were all of

them originally men.

[7] From a liturgy employed at Nippur in the period of the Isin

dynasty. Langdon, _op. cit_. p. 11. Also, _Sumerian and Babylonian

Psalms_, p. 338.

[8] Cf. Langdon, _Tammuz and Ishtar_, p. 23.

[9] What we have been able to ascertain of the Sumerian-Babylonian

religion points to it rather as a religion of mourning and

supplication, than of joy and thanksgiving. The people seem to have

been in perpetual dread of their gods, who require to be appeased by

continual acts of humiliation. Thus the 9th, 15th, 19th, 28th, and 29th

of the month were all days of sack-cloth and ashes, days of wailing;

the 19th especially was ‘the day of the wrath of Gulu.’

[10] Cf. Langdon, _op. cit_. p. 24.

[11] Cf. Langdon, _op. cit_. p. 26.

[12] The most complete enquiry into the nature of the god is to be

found in Baudissin, _Adonis und Esmun_. For the details of the cult cf.

Farnell, _Cults of the Greek States_, Vol. II.; Vellay, _Adonis_

(_Annales du Musée Guimet_). For the Folk-lore evidence cf. Mannhardt,

_Wald un Feld-Kulte;_ Frazer, _The Golden Bough_, and _Adonis, Attis

and Osiris_. These remarks apply also to the kindred cult of Attis,

which as we shall see later forms an important link in our chain of

evidence. The two cults are practically identical and scholars are

frequently at a loss to which group surviving fragments of the ritual

should be assigned.

[13] In this connection note the extremely instructive remarks of Miss

Harrison in the chapter on Herakles in the work referred to above. She

points out that the _Eniautos Daimon_ never becomes entirely and

Olympian, but always retains traces of his ‘Earth’ origin. This

principle is particularly well illustrated by Adonis, who, though,

admitted to Olympus as the lover of Aphrodite, is yet by this very

nature forced to return to the earth, and descend to the realm of

Persephone. This agrees well with the conclusion reached by Baudissin

(_Adonis und Esmun_, p. 71) that Adonis belongs to “einer Klasse von

Wesen sehr unbestimmter Art, die wohl über den Menschen aber unter den

grossen Göttern stehen.”

[14] Cf. Vellay, _op. cit_. p. 93. Dulaure, _Des Divinités

Génératrices_. If Baudissin is correct, and the introduction of the

Boar a later addition to the story, it would seem to indicate the

intrusion of a phallic element into ritual which at first, like that of

Tammuz, dealt merely with the death of the god. The Attis form, on the

contrary, appears to have been phallic from the first. Cf. Baudissin,

_Adonis und Esmun_, p. 160.

[15] _Op. cit_. p. 83.

[16] Cf. L. von Schroeder, _Vollendung den Arischen Mysterium_, p. 14.

[17] It may be well to explain the exact meaning attached to these

terms by the author. In Professor von Schroeder’s view _Mysterium_ may

be held to connote a drama in which the gods themselves are actors;

_Mimus_ on the contrary, is the term applied to a drama which treats of

the doings of mortals.

[18] _Op. cit_. Vol. II. p. 647.

[19] _Op. cit_. p. 115. Much of the uncertainty as to date is doubtless

due to the reflective influence of other forms of the cult; the Tammuz

celebrations were held from June 20th, to July 20th, when the Dog-star

Sirius was in the ascendant, and vegetation failed beneath the heat of

the summer sun. In other, and more temperate, climates the date would

fall later. Where, however, the cult was an off-shoot of a Tammuz

original (as might be the case through emigration) the tendency would

be to retain the original date.

[20] Cf. Vellay, _op. cit_. p. 55; Mannhardt, Vol. II. pp. 277-78, for

a description of the feast. With regard to the order and sequence of

the celebration cf. Miss Harrison’s remark, _Themis_, p. 415: “In the

cyclic monotony of the _Eniautos Daimon_ it matters little whether

Death follows Resurrection, or Resurrection, Death.”

[21] Cf. Mannhardt, _supra_, p. —-.

[22] Cf. Vellay, _op. cit_. p. 103. This seems also to have been the

case with Tammuz, cf. Ezekiel, Chap. viii. v. 14.

[23] Cf. Frazer, _The Golden Bough_, under heading _Adonis_.

[24] Vellay, p. 130, Mannahrdt, Vol. II. p. 287; note the writer’s

suggestion that the women here represent the goddess, the stranger, the

risen Adonis.

[25] Cf. Vellay, p. 93.

[26] _Vide supra_, pp. —-. —-.

[27] _Supra_, p. 21.

[28] Cf. Potvin, appendix to Vol. III.; _Sir Gawain and the Grail

Castle_, pp. 41, 44, and note.

[29] My use of this parallel has been objected to on the ground that

the prose _Lancelot_ is a late text, and therefore cannot be appealed

to as evidence for original incidents. But the _Lancelot_ in its

original form was held by so competent an authority as the late M.

Gaston Paris to have been one of the earliest, if not the very

earliest, of French prose texts. (Cf. M. Paris’s review of Suchier and

Birch-Hirschfield’s _Geschichte der Franz. Litt_.) The adventure in

question is a ‘Gawain’ adventure; we do not know whence it was derived,

and it may well have been included in an early version of the romance.

Apart from the purely literary question, from the strictly critical

point of view the adventure is here obviously out of place, and

entirely devoid of _raison d’être_. If the origins of the Grail legend

is really to be found in these cults, which are not a dead but a living

tradition (how truly living, the exclusively literary critic has little

idea), we are surely entitled to draw attention to the obvious

parallels, no matter in which text they appear. I am not engaged in

reconstructing the original _form_ of the Grail story, but in

endeavoring to ascertain the ultimate _source_, and it is surely

justifiable to point out that, in effect, no matter what version we

take, we find in that version points of contact with one special group

of popular belief and practice. If I be wrong in my conclusions my

critics have only to suggest another origin for this particular feature

of the romance—as a matter of fact, they have failed to do so.

[30] Cf. _Perlesvaus_, Branch II. Chap. I.

[31] Throwing into, or drenching with, water is a well known part of

the ‘Fertility’ ritual; it is a case of sympathetic magic, acting as a

rain charm.

CHAPTER V

[1] _Ancient Greek Religion, and Modern Greek Folk-Lore_, J. C. Lawson,

gives some most interesting evidence as to modern survivals of

mythological beliefs.

[2] _Wald und Feld-Kulte_, 2nd edition, 2 vols., Berlin, 1904. Cf. Vol.

II. p. 286. _The Golden Bough_, 3rd edition, 5 vols.

[3] I cite from Mannhardt, as the two works overlap in the particular

line of research we are following: the same instances are given in

both, buyt the honour of priority belongs to the German scholar.

[4] _Op. cit_. Vol. I. p. 411.

[5] See G. Calderon, ‘Slavonic Elements in Greek religion,’ _Classical

Review_, 1918, p. 79.

[6] _Op. cit_. p. 416.

[7] _Op. cit_. pp. 155 and 312.

[8] _Op. cit_. p. 353.

[9] _Op. cit_. p. 358.

[10] _Op. cit_. p. 358.

[11] _Op. cit_. p. 359. Cf. the Lausitz custom given _supra_, which

Mannhardt seems to have overlooked.

[12] In the poem, besides the ordinary figures of the Vegetation Deity,

his female counterpart, and the Doctor, common to all such processions,

Laubfrosch, combining the two first, and Horse. Cf. Mannhardt, _Mythol.

Forsch_. pp. 142-43; _Mysterium und Mimus_, pp. 408 _et seq_.; also,

pp. 443-44. Sir W. Ridgeway (_op. cit_. p. 156) refers slightingly to

this interpretation of a ‘harmless little hymn’—doubless the poem is

harmless; until Prof. von Schroeder pointed out its close affinity with

the Fertility processions it was also meaningless.

[13] _Op. cit_. Chap. 17, p. 253.

[14] Cf. _Folk-Lore_, Vol. XV. p. 374.

[15] _Op. cit_. Vol. V. _The Dying God_, pp. 17 _et seq_.

[16] See Dr Seligmann’s study, _The Cult of Nyakang and the Divine

Kings of the Shilluk_ in the Fourth Report of the Wellcome Research

Laboratories, Kkartum, 1911, Vol. B.

[17] Cf. Address on reception into the Academy when M. Paris succeeded

to Pasteur’s _fauteuil_.

CHAPTER VI

[1] _Op. cit_. Vol. I. p. 94.

[2] _The Legend of Longinus_, R. J. Peebles (Bryn Mawr College

monographs, Vol. IX.).

[3] I discussed this point with Miss Lucy Broadwood, Secretary of the

Folk-Song Society, who has made sketches of these Crosses, and she

entirely agrees with me. In my _Quest of the Holy Grail_, pp. 54 _et

seq_., I have pointed out the absolute dearth of ecclesiastical

tradition with regard to the story of Joseph and the Grail.

[4] Cf. _Littaturzeitung_, XXIV. (1903), p. 2821.

[5] Cf. _The Bleeding Lance_, A. C. L. Brown.

[6] Cf. Brown, _op. cit_. p. 35; also A. Nutt, _Studies in the Legend

of the Holy Grail_, p. 184.

[7] Cf. Brown, _Notes on Celtic Cauldrons of Plenty_, p. 237.

[8] Cf. _Queste_, Malory, Book XIII. Chap. 7, where the effect is the

same.

[9] Cf. _Germanische Elben und Götter beim Estenvolker_, L. von

Schroeder (Wien, 1906).

[10] I suggested this point in corrspondence with Dr Brugger, who

agreed with me that it was worth working out.

[11] Before leaving the discussion of Professor Brown’s theory, I would

draw attention to a serious error made by the author of _The Legend of

Longinus_. On p. 191, she blames Professor Brown for postulating the

destructive qualities of the Lance, on the strength of ‘an unsupported

passage’ in the ‘Mons’ MS., whereas the Montpellier text says that the

Lance shall bring peace. Unfortunately, it is this latter version which

is unsupported, all the MSS., without even excepting B.N. 1429, which

as a rule agrees with Montpellier, give the ‘destructive’ version.

[12] Cf. Dulaure, _Des Divinités Génératrices_, p. 77. Also additional

chapter to last edition by Van Gennep, p. 333; L. von Schroeder,

_Mysterium und Mimus_, pp. 279-80, for symbolic use of the Spear.

McCulloch, _Religion of the Celts_, p. 302, suggests that it is not

impossible that the cauldron=Hindu _yoni_, which of course would bring

it into line with the above suggested meaning of the Grail. I think

however that the real significance of the cauldron is that previously

indicated.

[13] It is interesting to note that this relative position of Lance and

Grail lingers on in late and fully Christianized versions; cf. Sommer,

_The Quest of the Holy Grail, Romania_, XXXVI. p. 575.

[14] My informant on this point was a scholar, resident in Japan, who

gave me the facts within his personal knowledge. I referred the

question to Prof. Basil Hall Chamberlain, who wrote in answer that he

had not himself met with the practice but that the Samurai ceremonies

differed in different provinces, and my informant might well be

correct.

[15] This explanation has at least the merit of simplicity as compared

with that proposed by the author of _The Legend of Longinus_, pp. 209

et seq., which would connect the feature with an obscure heretical

practice of the early Irish church. It would also meet Professor

Brown’s very reasonable objections, _The Bleeding Lance_, p. 8; cf.

also remarks by Baist quoted in the foot-note above.

[16] Cf. my _Legend of Sir Perceval_, Vol. II. pp. 314-315, note.

[17] Mr A. E. Waite, who has published a book on the subject, informs

me that the 17 cards preserved in the Bibliothèque du Roi (Bibl.

Nationale?) as specimens of the work of the painter Charles

Gringonneur, are really Tarots.

[18] Falconnier, in a brochure on _Les XXII Lames Hermetiques du

Tarot_, gives reproductions of these Egyptian paintings.

[19] _Journal of the Gipsy-Lore Society_, Vol. II. New Series, pp.

14-37.

[20] From a private letter. The ultimate object of Magic in all ages

was, and is, to obtain control of the sources of Life. Hence, whatever

was the use of these objects (of which I know nothing), their

appearance in this connection is significant.

CHAPTER VII

[1] _Mysterium und Mimus_, p. 50. This work contains a most valuable

and interesting study of the Maruts, and the kindred groups of Sword

Dancers.

[2] _Op. cit_. pp. 47 _et seq_.

[3] _Rig-Veda_, Vol. III. p. 337.

[4] _Mysterium und Mimus_, p. 48.

[5] _Op. cit., Indra, die Maruts, und Agastya_, pp. 91 _et seq_.

[6] _Rig-Veda_, Vol. III. pp. 331, 334, 335, 337.

[7] _Mysterium un Mimus_, p. 121.

[8] _Vollendung des Arische Mysterium_, p. 13. The introductory section

of this book, containing a study of early Aryan belief, and numerous

references to modern survivals, is both interesting and valuable. The

latter part, a panegyric on the Wagnerian drama, is of little

importance.

[9] _Mysterium und Mimus_, p. 131.

[10] Cf. Röscher’s _Lexikon_, under heading _Kureten_.

[11] _Op. cit_.

[12] Cf. Preller, _Graechishe Mythologie_, p. 134.

[13] Quoted by Preller, p. 654.

[14] _Themis_, A Study in Greek Social Origins (Cambridge, 1912), pp. 6

_et seq_.

[15] _Mysterium un Mimus_, p. 23.

[16] _Themis_, p. 24.

[17] Cf. _Mysterium und Mimus_, section _Indra, die Maruts, und

Agastya_ specially pp. 151 _et seq_.

[18] Cf. von Schroeder, _op. cit_. pp. 141 _et seq_. for a very full

account of the ceremonies; also, _Themis_, p. 194; Mannhardt, _Wald und

Feld-Kulte_, and Röscher’s _Lexikon_, under heading _Mars_, for various

reasons.

[19] _Folk-Lore_, Vols. VII., X., and XVI. contain interesting and

fully illustrated accounts of some of these dances and plays.

[20] _The Mediaeval Stage_, Vol. III. p. 202. It would be interesting

to know the precise form of this ring; was it the Pentangle?

[21] Cf. also _Mysterium und Mimus_, pp. 110, 111, for a general

description of the dance, _minus_ the text of the speeches.

[22] Pp. 186-194.

[23] Cf. _Folk-Lore_, Vol. XVI. pp. 212 _et seq_.

[24] I would draw attention to the curious name of the adversary,

Golisham; it is noteworthy that in one Arthurian romance Gawain has for

adversary Golagros, in another Percival fights against Golerotheram.

Are these all reminiscences of the giant Goliath, who became the

synonym for a dangerous, preferably heathen, adversary, even as Mahomet

became the synonym for an idol?

[25] Cf. Mannhardt, _Wald und Feld-Kulte_, Vol. II. pp. 191 _et seq_.

for a very full account of the Julbock (Yule Buck).

[26] Cf. _Folk-Lore_, Vol. VIII. ‘Some Oxfordshire Seasonal Festivals,’

where full illustrations of the Bampton Morris Dancers and their

equipment will be found.

[27] Cf. _The Padstow Hobby-Horse_, F.-L. Vol. XVI. p. 56; _The

Staffordshire Horn-Dance_, Ib. Vol. VII. p. 382, and VIII. p. 70.

[28] Cf. _supra_, pp. 53, 80, 85.

[29] Cf. _Legend of Sir Perceval_, Vol. II. p. 264.

[30] See _English Folk-Song and Dance_ by Frank Kidson and Mary Neal,

Cambridge, 1915, plate facing p. 104. A curious point in connection

with the illustration is that the Chalice is surmounted by a Heart, and

in the Tarot suits _Cups_ are the equivalent of our _Hearts_. The

combination has now become identified with the cult of the Sacred

Heart, but is undoubtedly much older.

CHAPTER VIII

[1] Cf. _supra_, Chap. 5, pp. 52, 54; Chap. 7, pp. 90, 91.

[2] _Mysterium und Mimus_, p. 369, _Der Mimus des Medizinmannes_.

[3] Cf. Chap. 5, pp. 53, 54.

[4] _Op. cit_. p. 371

[5] _Op. cit_. pp. 78 _et seq_.

[6] I would draw attention to the fact that while scholars are now

coming to the conclusion that Classic Drama, whether Tragedy or Comedy,

reposes for its origin upon this ancient ritual, others have pointed

out that Modern Drama derives from the ritual Play of the Church, the

first recorded medieval drama being the Easter _Quem Quaeritis?_ the

dramatic celebration of Our Lord’s Resurrection. Cf. Chambers, _The

Mediaeval Stage_, where this thesis is elaborately developed and

illustrated. It is a curious fact that certain texts of this, the

‘Classical’ Passion Play, contain a scene between the Maries and the

‘Unguentarius’ from whom they purchase spices for the embalmment of Our

Lord. Can this be a survival of the Medicine Man? (Cf. _op. cit_. Vol.

ii. p. 33.)

[7] Bibl. Nat., fonds Français, 12577, fo. 40

[8] Bibl. Nat., f. F. 1453, fo. 49. _Parzival_, Bk. x. ll, 413-22.

[9] _Lanceloet_, Jonckbloet, Vol.II. ll. 22271-23126.

[10] _Op. cit_. ll. 22825-26.

[11] _Op. cit_. Vol. 1. ll. 42540-47262.

[12] _Op. cit_. ll. 46671-74.

[13] _Op. cit_. ll. 46678-80.

[14] Cf. Loth, _Les Mabinogion_, Vol. ii. p. 230, and note. The other

two are Riwallawn Walth Banhadlen, and Llacheu son of Arthur.

[15] The only instance in which I have found medicine directly

connected with the knightly order is in the case of the warrior clan of

the Samurai, in Japan, where members, physically unfitted for the task

of a warrior, were trained as _Royal_ Doctors, the _Folk_ Doctors being

recruited from a class below the Samurai. Cf. _Medizin der

Natur-Völker_, Bartels, p. 65.

APPENDIX TO CHAPTER VIII

[1] Cf. _Œuvres de Rutebœuf_, Kressner, p. 115.

[2] My attention was drawn to the poem by references to it in _The

Mediaeval Stage_, Chambers.

CHAPTER IX

[1] Cf. my _Sir Gawain and the Grail Castle_, pp. 3-30. The best text

is that of MS. B.N., fonds Franç. 12576, ff. 87vo-91. The above remarks

apply also to the _Elucidation_, which is using a version of the

_Bleheris_ form.

[2] B.N. 12577, fo. 136_vo_.

[3] Cf. _Sir Gawain at the Grail Castle_, pp. 33-46.

[4] Cf. B.N. 12576, ff. 220-222_vo_ and fo. 258.

[5] Hucher, _Le Saint Graal_, Vo. I. pp. 251 _et seq_., 315 _et seq_.

[6] Cf. Modena MS. pp. 11, 12, 21, etc.; Dr Nitze, _The Fisher-King in

the Grail Romances_, p. 373, says Borron uses the term _Rice_ Pescheur,

as opposed to the _Roi_ Pescheur of Chrétien. This remark is only

correct as applied to the _Joseph_.

[7] Modena MS p. 61 and note.

[8] _Ibid_. p. 63.

[9] The evidence of the _Parzival_ and the parallel Grail sections of

_Sone de Nansai_, which appear to repose ultimately on a source common

to all three authors, makes this practically certain.

[10] This is surely a curious omission, if the second King were as

essential a part of the scheme as Dr Nitze supposes.

[11] Cf. Chapter 2, p. —-.

[12] I cannot agree with Dr Nitze’s remark (_op. cit_. p. 374) that “in

most versions the Fisher King has a mysterious double.” I hold that

feature to be a peculiarity of the Chrétien-Wolfram group. It is not

found in the Gawain versions, in Wauchier, nor in Manessier. Gerbert is

using the _Queste_ in the passage relative to Mordrains, and for the

reason stated above I hold that heither _Queste_ nor _Grand Saint

Graal_ should be cited when we are dealing, as Dr Nitze is here

dealing, with questions of ultimate origin.

[13] Cf. my _Legend of Sir Lancelot_, pp. 167 and 168.

[14] Cf. Heinzel, _Ueber die Alt-Franz. Gral-Romanen_, pp. 136 and 137.

[15] Cf. _Legend of Sir Perceval_, Vol. II. p. 343, note. These three

kings are found in the curious Merlin MS. B.N., f. Franç. 337, fo. 249

_et seq_.

[16] _Vide supra_, pp. 91. 92.

[17] _Op. cit_. p. 184.

[18] Cf. Chapter 5, p. 52, Chap. 7, p. 88.

[19] _Diû Crone_, ll. 17329 _et seq_.

[20] In the _Parzival_ Titurel is grandfather to Anfortas, Frimutel

intervening; critics of the poem are apt to overlook this difference

between the German and French versions.

[21] Cf. Chapter 2, p. 20.

[22] Cf. here my notes on _Sone de Nansai_ (_Romania_, Vol. XLIII. p.

412).

[23] In connection with my previous remarks on the subject (p. 112) I

would point out that the _Queste_ and _Grand Sainte Graal_ versions

repeat the Maimed King _motif_ in the most unintelligent manner. The

element of old age, inherent in the Evalach-Mordrains incident, is

complicated and practically obscured, by an absurdly exaggerated

wounding element, here devoid of its original significance.

[24] Heinzel, _op. cit_. p. 13.

[25] For an instance of the extravagances to which a strictly Christian

interpretation can lead, cf. Dr Sebastian Evans’s theories set forth in

his translation of the _Perlesvaus_ (_The High History of the Holy

Grail_) and in his _The Quest of the Holy Grail_. The author places the

origin of the cycle in the first quarter of the thirteenth century, and

treats it as an allegory of the position in England during the

Interdict pronounced against King John, and the consequent withholding

of the Sacraments. His identification of the character with historical

originals is most ingenious, an extraordinary example of misapplied

learning.

[26] For a general discussion of the conflicting views cf. Dr Nitze’s

study, referred to above. The writer devotes special attention to the

works of the late Prof. Heinzel and Mr Alfred Nutt as leading

representatives of their respective schools.

[27] R. Pischel’s _Ueber die Ursprung des Christlichen Fisch-Symbols_

is specifically devoted to the possible derivation from Indian sources.

Scheftelowitz, _Das Fischsymbolik in Judentem und Christentum_ (_Archiv

für Religionswissenschaft_, Vol. XIV.), contains a great deal of

valuable material. R. Eisler, _Orpheus the Fisher_ (_The Quest_, Vols.

I and II.), _John, Jonas, Oannes_ (_ibid_. Vol. III.), _The Messianic

Fish-meal of the Primitive Church_ (_ibid_. Vol. IV.), are isolated

studies, forming part of a comprehensive work on the subject, the

publication of which has unfortunately been prevented by the War.

[28] _Mahâbhârata_, Bk. III.

[29] Cf. Scheftekowitz, _op. cit_. p. 51.

[30] Cf. _The Open Court_, June and July, 1911, where reproductions of

these figures will be found.

[31] _Op. cit_. p. 403. Cf. here an illustration in Miss Harrison’s

_Themis_ (p. 262), which shows Cecrops, who played the same _rôle_ with

regard to the Greeks, with a serpent’s tail.

[32] _Ibid_. p. 168. In this connection note the prayer to Vishnu,

quoted above.

[33] Cf. Eisler, _Orpheus the Fisher_ (_The Quest_, Vol. I. p. 126).

[34] Cf. W. Staerk, _Ueber den Ursprung der Gral-Legende_, pp. 55, 56.

[35] Df. S. Langdon, _Sumerian and Babylonian Psalms_, pp. 301, 305,

307, 313.

[36] Cf. Eisler, _The Messianic Fish-meal of the Primitive Church_

(_The Quest_, Vol. IV.), where the various frescoes are described; also

the article by Scheftelowitz, already referred to. While mainly devoted

to Jewish beliefs and practices, this study contains much material

derived from other sources. So far it is the fullest and most

thoroughly _documenté_ treatment of the subject I have met with.

[37] Cf. Eisler, _op. cit_. and Scheftelowitz, pp. 19. 20.

[38] Cf. Eisler, _op. cit_. p. 508.

[39] Cf. Scheftelowitz, _op. cit_. pp. 337, 338, and note 4.

[40] Hucher, _Le Saint Graal_, Vol. I. pp. 251 et seq., 315 _et seq_.

[41] Cf. A. Nutt, _Studies in the Legend of the Holy Grail_, p. 209.

[42] Cf. Eisler, _The Mystic Epitaph of Bishop Aberkios_ (_The Quest_,

Vol. V. pp. 302-312); Scheftelowitz, _op. cit_. p. 8.

[43] Cf. _The Voyage of Saint Brandan_, ll. 372, _et seq_., 660 _et

seq_.

[44] _Op. cit_. ll. 170 _et seq_., and _supra_, p. 119.

[45] _Vide supra_, p. 70.

[46] _Op. cit_. p. 168.

[47] Cf. _The Messianic Fish-meal_.

[48] _Op. cit_. p. 92, fig. 42 _a_.

[49] _Op. cit_. p. 23, and note, p. 29.

[50] _Parzival_, Bk. IX. ll., 1109 _et seq_., Bk. XVI. ll. 175 _et

seq_.

[51] Cf. _Sir Gawain at the Grail Castle_, p. 55. Certain of the

_Lancelot_ MSS., _e.g._, B.N., f. Fr. 123, give two doves.

[52] Cf. Scheftelowitz, p. 338. Haven, _Der Gral_, has argued that

Wolfram’s stone is such a meteoric stone, a Boetylus. I am not prepared

to take up any position as to the exact nature of the stone itself,

whether precious stone or meteor; the real point of importance being

its Life-giving potency.

[53] _Op. cit_. p. 381.

[54] _Ibid_. p. 376 _et seq_.

[55] _Ibid_. p. 20.

[56] _Ibid_. p. 377.

CHAPTER X

[1] _Elucidation_, ll. 4-9 and 12, 13.

[2] Potvin, ll. 19933-40. I quote from Potvin’s edition as more

accessible than the MSS., but the version of mons is, on the whole, an

inferior one.

[3] Potvin, ll. 28108-28.

[4] This is to my mind the error vitiating much of Dr Nitze’s later

work, _e.g._, the studies entitled _The Fisher-King in the Grail

Romances_ and _The Sister’s Son, and the Conte del Graal_.

[5] _Op. cit_. Introduction, p. X.

[6] Rohde, _Psyche_, p. 293, and Cumont, _op. cit_. p. 44.

[7] Anrich, _Das alte Mysterien-Wesen in seinem Verhältniss zum

Christentum_, p. 46.

[8] _Op. cit_. p. 136.

[9] Cumont, _op. cit_. p. 84.

[10] _Op. cit_. pp. 104, 105.

[11] Cf. Anrich, _op. cit_. p. 81.

[12] Hepding, _Attis_, p. 189.

[13] Cumont, _Mystères de Mithra_, pp. 19 and 78.

[14] _Ibid_. p. 188.

[15] _Ibid_. pp. 190 _et seq_.

[16] _Vide_ Hepding, _Attis_, Chap. 4, for details.

[17] Dieterich, _Eine Mithrasliturgie_, p. 174.

[18] Hepding, _op. cit_. p. 196.

[19] Cf. my _Legend of Sir Perceval_, Vol. II. p. 313. Hepding mentions

(_op. cit_. p. 174) among the _sacra_ of the goddess _Phrygium ferrum_,

which he suggests was the knife from which the Archigallus wounded

himself on the ‘Blood’ day. Thus it is possible that the primitive

ritual may have contained a knife.

CHAPTER XI

[1] Cumont, _op. cit_. Introd. pp. XX and XXI.

[2] _Thrice-Greatest Hermes_, Vol. I, p. 195.

[3] _Op. cit_. p. 141.

[4] _Op. cit_. p. 142.

[5] _Op. cit_. pp. 146 _et seq_. Reitzenstein, _Die Hellenistischen

Mysterien Religionen_, Leipzig, 1910, gives the document in the

original. There is also a translation of Hippolytus in the _Ante-Nicene

Library_.

[6] Quoted by Mead, _op. cit_. p. 138.

[7] _Op. cit_. pp. 146, 147.

[8] _Op. cit_. p. 151.

[9] _Op. cit_. p. 152. Mr Mead concludes that there is here a lacuna of

the original.

[10] _Op. cit_. p. 181. In a note Mr Mead says of the Greater

Mysteries, “presumaby the candidate went through some symbolic rite of

death and resurrection.”

[11] _Op. cit_. pp. 185, 186. I would draw especial attention to this

passage in view of the present controversey as to the Origin of Drama.

It looks as if the original writer of the document (and this section is

in the Pagan Source) would have inclined to the views of Sir Gilbert

Murray, Miss Harrison, and Mr Cornford rather than to those championed

by their sarcastic critic, Sir W. Ridgeway.

[12] _Op. cit_. p. 190.

[13] _Vide supra_, p. 137.

[14] Cf. _Legend of Sir Perceval_, Vol. II. Chapters 10 and 11.

[15] Cf. my _Quest of the Holy Grail_, Bell, 1913, Chap. 4, for summary

of evidence on this point.

[16] Cf. Heinzel, _Alt-Franz. Gral-Romanen_, p. 72.

CHAPTER XII

[1] _Op. cit_. p. 71.

[2] _Op. cit_. p. 3.

[3] _Op. cit_. p. 4.

[4] Cumont, _op. cit_. pp. 129-141 _et seq_.

[5] _Op. cit_. p. 148.

[6] Dieterich, _Eine Mithrasliturgie_, the text is given with

translation and is followed by an elaborate commentary. The whole study

is most interesting and suggestive.

[7] Cf. Bousset, _Der Himmelfahrt der Seele, Archiv für

Religionswissenschaft_, Vol. IV.

[8] Cumont, _op. cit_. pp. 199 _et seq_.

[9] _Adonis und Esmun_, p. 521.

[10] Cf. Mead, _op. cit_. p. 179, note; Cumont, _Mystères de Mithra_,

p. 183.

[11] Cumont, _Les Religions Orientales_, pp. 160 _et seq_.

[12] _Mystères de Mithra_, p. 77.

[13] _Les Religions Orientales_, pp. 166, 167, _Mystères de Mithra_, p.

57.

[14] Mead, _op. cit_. pp. 147, 148, and note.

[15] Without entering into indiscreet details I may say that students

of the Mysteries are well aware of the continued survival of this

ritual under circumstances which correspond exactly with the

indications of two of our Grail romances.

[16] _The Quest of the Holy Grail_, pp. 110 _et seq_.

[17] _puys._ Professor A. C. L. Brown, _Notes on Celtic Cauldrons of

Plenty_, n. p. 249, translates this ‘wells,’ an error into which the

late Mr Alfred Nutt had already fallen. Wisse Colin translates this

correctly, _berg, gebirge_.

[18] I suspect that the robbery of the Golden Cup was originally a

symbolic expression for the outrage being offered.

CHAPTER XIII

[1] MS B.N. 12576, ff. 87_vo et seq_. A translation will be found in my

_Sir Gawain at the Grail Castle_, pp. 13-15.

[2] MS B.N. 12576, ff. 150_vo_, 222, 238_vo_.

[3] Cf. here Prof. Kittredge’s monograph _Arthur and Gorlagon_.

[4] Cf. Malory, Book XVI. Chap. 2.

[5] Cf. _Perlesvaus_, Branch XV. sections XII.-XX.; Malory, Book VI.

Chap. 15; _Chevalier à deux Espées_, ll. 531 _et seq_.

[6] B.N. 12576, fo. 74_vo_.

[7] Cf. B.N. MS 1433, ff. 10, 11, and the analysis and remarks in my

_Legend of Sir Lancelot_, p. 219 and note.

[8] Cf. passage in question quoted on p. 137.

[9] B.N. 12576, fo. 150_vo_.

[10] _Perlesvaus_, Branch I. sections III., IV.

[11] Cf. my notes on the subject, _Romania_, Vol. XLIII. pp. 420-426.

[12] Cf. Nitze, _Glastonbury and the Holy Grail_, where the reference

is given.

[13] _Vide supra_, p. 147.

[14] Cf. _Legend of Sir Perceval_, Vol. II. p. 261. I suggested then

that the actual initiation would probably consist in enlightenment into

the meaning of Lance and Cup, in their sexual juxtaposition. I would

now go a step further, and suggest that the identification of the Lance

with the weapon of Longinus may quite well have rpelaced the original

explanation as given by Bleheris. In _The Quest_, Oct. 1916, I have

given, under the title “The Ruined Temple,” a hypothetical

reconstruction of the Grail Initiation.

[15] _Owain Miles_, edited from the unique MS. by Turnbull and Laing,

Edinburgh, 1837. _The Purgatory of Saint Patrick_ will be found in

Horstmann’s Southern Legendary. I have given a modern English rendering

of part of _Owain Miles_ in my _Chief Middle-English Poets_, published

by Houghton Mifflin Co., Boston, U.S.A.

[16] Cf. _op. cit_. pp. 148 _et seq_.

[17] _Op. cit_. pp. 155 and 254.

CHAPTER XIV

The Author

[1] Cf. Mead, _Thrice Greatest Hermes_, Vol. III. p. 295. On this point

the still untranslated _corpus_ of Bardic poetry may possibly throw

light.

[2] _The Quest of The Holy Grail_ (_Quest_ series, Bell, 1913).

[3] On the point that Chrétien was treating an already popular theme,

cf. Brugger, _Enserrement Merlin_, I. (_Zeitschrift für Franz.

Sprache_, XXIX.).

[4] That is, the relationship is due to romantic tradition, not to

Mystery survival, as Dr Nitze maintains.

[5] Cf. _Romania_, Vol. XXXIII. pp. 333 _et seq_.

[6] Cf. _Legend of Sir Perceval_, Vol. I. Chap. 12, for the passages

referred to, also article in _Romania_, XXXIII.

[7] Cf. my _Quest of the Holy Grail_, pp. 110 _et seq_.

[8] Cf. _Tristan_ (Bédier’s ed.), Vol. I. l. 2120.

[9] A critic of my _Quest_ volume remarks that “we have as little faith

in Wauchier’s appeal to a Welshman Bleheris as source for his

continuation of Chrétien’s ‘_Perceval_’ as we have in Layamon’s similar

appeal to Bede and St Austin at the beginning of the ‘_Brut_.’” The

remark seems to me singularly inept, there is no parallel between the

cases. In the first place Layamon does not refer to Bede and St Austin

as _source_, but as _models_, a very different thing. Then the

statement is discredited by the fact that we possess the writings of

these men, and know them to be of another character than Metrical

Chronicles. In the case of Wauchier his reference does not stand alone;

it is one of a group, and that group marked by an extraordinary

unanimity of statement; whoever Bleheris may have been he was certainly

possessed of two definite qualifications—he knew a vast number of

tales, and he possessed a remarkable gift of narration, _i.e._, he was

a story-teller, _par excellence_. Thus he was, _a priori_, a probable

source for that section of Wauchier’s work which is attributed to him,

a section consisting of short, picturesque, and mutually independent

tales, which formed part of a popular collection. It is misleading to

speak as if Wauchier refers to him as general source for his _Perceval_

continuation; the references are clearly marked and refer to _Gawain_

tales. Apart from the fact that Wauchier’s reference does not stand

alone we have independent evidence of the actual existence of such a

group of tales, in our surviving _Gawain_ poems, certain of which, such

as _Kay and the Spit_, and _Golagros and Gawayne_ are versions of the

stories given by Wauchier, while the author of the _Elucidation_ was

also familiar with the same collection. If evidence for the identity of

Bleheris is incomplete, that for his existence appears to be

incontrovertible. Would it not be more honest if such a would-be critic

as the writer referred to said, ‘I do not choose to believe in the

existence of Bleheris, because it runs counter to my pre-conceived

theory of the evolution of the literature’? We should then know where

we are. Such a parallel as that cited above has no value for those

familiar with the literature but may easily mislead the general reader.

I would also draw attention to the fact noted in the text—the extreme

improbability of Wauchier, a continental writer, inventing an insular

and Welsh source. This is a point critics carefully evade.

[10] Cf. _Bledhericus de Cornouailles_, note contributed by M. Ferd.

Lot, to Romania, Vol. XXVIII. p. 336. M. Lot remarks that he has not

met with the name in Armorica; it thus appears to be insular.

[11] Cf. _Revue Celtique_, 1911, _A note on the identification of

Bleheris_.

[12] Ed. Rhys-Evans, Vol. II. p. 297; cf. also _Revue Celtique_.

[13] In the course of 1915-16 I received letters from Mr Rogers Rees,

resident at Stepaside, Pembrokeshire, who informed me that he held

definite proof of the connection of Bledri with both _Grail_ and

_Perceval_ legends. The locality had been part of Bledri’s estate, and

the house in which he lived was built on the site of what had been

Bledri’s castle. Mr Rogers Rees maintained the existence of a living

tradition connecting Bledri with the legends in question. At his

request I sent him the list of the names of the brothers of Alain li

Gros, as given in the 1516 edition of the _Perlesvaus_, a copy of which

is in the Bibliothèque Nationale, and received in return a letter

stating that the list must have been compiled by one familiar with the

district. Unfortunately, for a year, from the autumn of 1916, I was

debarred from work, and when, on resuming my studies, I wrote to my

correspondent asking for the promised evidence I obtained no answer to

my repeated appeal. On communicating with Mr Owen I found he had had

precisely the same experience, and, for his part, was extremely

sceptical as to there being any genuine foundation for our

correspondent’s assertions. While it is thus impossible to use the

statements in question as elements in my argument, I think it right in

the interests of scholarship to place them on record; they may afford a

clue which some Welsh scholar may be able to follow up to a more

satisfactory conclusion.

[14] Had Wauchier really desired to _invent_ an authority, in view of

his date, and connection with the house of Flanders, he had a famous

name at hand—that of Chrétien de Troyes.

[15] Cf. _Legend of Sir Perceval_, Vol. II. p. 307 and note. I have

recently received Dr Brugger’s review of Mr R. H. Griffith’s study of

the English poem, and am glad to see that the critic accepts the

independence of this version. If scholars can see their way to accept

as faits acquis the mutual independence of the _Grail_, and _Perceval_

themes, we shall, at last, have a solid basis for future criticism.

[16] Cf. my Notes, _Romania_, Vol. XLIII. pp. 403 _et seq_.