FOOTNOTES:

Let him go, Gertrude. Do not fear our person.There's such divinity doth hedge a king,That treason can but peep to what it would,Acts little of his will.

This superstition is by no means confined to civilised or semi-civilised nations. It is almost a universal feeling amongst savage tribes.The ignorant serf of Russia believed, and indeed yet believes, that if the deity were to die the emperor would succeed to his power and authority. Speke, referring to a very childish but nevertheless very great potentate, who ruled the territory adjacent the Victoria N'yanza, says, "I found that the Waganda have the same absurd notion here as the Wangambo have in Karagué, of Kamrasi's supernatural power in being able to divide the waters of the Nile in the same manner that Moses did the Red Sea."

FOOTNOTES:[19]The hawthorn, as will be shown in the following chapter, was invested with much superstitious reverence, and especially in connection with the spring festivals; and, singularly enough, Mr. John Ingram, in his delightful "Flora Symbolica," informs us that the hawthorn is, in "florigraphy," an emblem of Hope. This is, evidently, no accidental coincidence.[20]This is an error. Bury is certainly famous for its simnels, but other towns in Lancashire, and elsewhere, both keep up the custom and boast of the quality of their confectionery.[21]The harshness and general painfulness of life in old times must have been much relieved by certain simple and affectionate customs which modern people have learned to dispense with. Amongst these was a practice of going to see parents, and especially the female one, on the mid Sunday of Lent, taking for them some little present, such as a cake or a trinket. A youth engaged in this amiable act of duty was said to goa-mothering, and thence the day itself came to be called Mothering Sunday. One can readily imagine how, after a stripling or maiden had gone to service, or launched in independent housekeeping, the old bonds of filial love would be brightened by this pleasant annual visit, signalised, as custom demanded it should be, by the excitement attending some novel and perhaps surprising gift. Herrick, in a canzonet addressed to Dianeme, says:—"I'll to thee asimnelbring,'Gainst thou go a-mothering;So that, when she blesses thee,Half that blessing thou'lt give me."He here obviously alludes to the sweet cakes which the young person brought to the female parent as a gift; but it would appear that the term "simnel" was in reality applicable to cakes which were in use all through the time of Lent.... We learn from Ducange that it was usual in early times to mark the simnels with a figure of Christ or of the Virgin Mary, which would seem to show that they had a religious signification. We know that the Anglo-Saxon, and indeed the German race in general, were in the habit of eating consecrated cakes at their religious festivals. Our hot cross-buns at Easter are only the cakes which the pagan Saxons ate in honour of their goddess Eastre, and from which the Christian clergy, who were unable to prevent people from eating, sought to expel the paganism by marking them with the cross. It is curious that the use of these cakes should have been preserved so long in this locality, and still more curious are the tales which have arisen to explain the meaning of the name, which had been long forgotten. Some pretend that the father of Lambert Simnel, the well-known pretender in the reign of Henry VII., was a baker, and the first maker of simnels, and that in consequence of the celebrity he gained by the acts of his son, the cakes have retained his name. There is another story current in Shropshire, which is much more picturesque, and which we tell as nearly as possible in the words in which it was related to us. Long ago there lived an honest old couple, boasting the names of Simon and Nelly, but their surnames are not known. It was their custom at Easter to gather their children about them, and thus meet together once a year under the old homestead. The fast season of Lent was just ending, but still they had left some of the unleavened dough which had been from time to time converted into bread during the forty days. Nelly was a careful woman, and it grieved her to waste anything, so she suggested that they should use the remains of the Lenten dough for the basis of a cake to regale the assembled family. Simon readily agreed to the proposal, and further reminded his partner that there were still some remains of their Christmas plum-pudding hoarded up in the cupboard, and that this might form the interior, and be an agreeable surprise to the young people when they had made their way through the less tasty crust. So far, all things went on harmoniously; but when the cake was made, a subject of violent discord arose, Sim insisting that it should be boiled, while Nell no less obstinately contended that it should be baked. The dispute ran from words to blows, for Nell, not choosing to let her province in the household be thus interfered with, jumped up, and threw the stool she was sitting on at Sim, who on his part seized a besom, and applied it with right good will to the head and shoulders of his spouse. She now seized the broom, and the battle became so warm that it might have had a very serious result, had not Nell proposed as a compromise that the cake should be boiled first and afterwards baked. This Sim acceded to, for he had no wish for further acquaintance with the heavy end of the broom. Accordingly, the big pot was set on the fire, and the stool broken up and thrown on to boil it, whilst the besom and broom furnished fuel for the oven. Some eggs, which had been broken in the scuffle, were used to coat the outside of the pudding when boiled, which gave it the shining gloss it possesses as a cake. This new and remarkable production in the art of confectionery became known by the name of the cake of Simon and Nelly, but soon only the first half of each name was alone preserved and joined together, and it has ever since been known as the cake of Sim-Nel, or Simnel.—Chambers's Book of Days.

[19]The hawthorn, as will be shown in the following chapter, was invested with much superstitious reverence, and especially in connection with the spring festivals; and, singularly enough, Mr. John Ingram, in his delightful "Flora Symbolica," informs us that the hawthorn is, in "florigraphy," an emblem of Hope. This is, evidently, no accidental coincidence.

[20]This is an error. Bury is certainly famous for its simnels, but other towns in Lancashire, and elsewhere, both keep up the custom and boast of the quality of their confectionery.

[21]The harshness and general painfulness of life in old times must have been much relieved by certain simple and affectionate customs which modern people have learned to dispense with. Amongst these was a practice of going to see parents, and especially the female one, on the mid Sunday of Lent, taking for them some little present, such as a cake or a trinket. A youth engaged in this amiable act of duty was said to goa-mothering, and thence the day itself came to be called Mothering Sunday. One can readily imagine how, after a stripling or maiden had gone to service, or launched in independent housekeeping, the old bonds of filial love would be brightened by this pleasant annual visit, signalised, as custom demanded it should be, by the excitement attending some novel and perhaps surprising gift. Herrick, in a canzonet addressed to Dianeme, says:—"I'll to thee asimnelbring,'Gainst thou go a-mothering;So that, when she blesses thee,Half that blessing thou'lt give me."He here obviously alludes to the sweet cakes which the young person brought to the female parent as a gift; but it would appear that the term "simnel" was in reality applicable to cakes which were in use all through the time of Lent.... We learn from Ducange that it was usual in early times to mark the simnels with a figure of Christ or of the Virgin Mary, which would seem to show that they had a religious signification. We know that the Anglo-Saxon, and indeed the German race in general, were in the habit of eating consecrated cakes at their religious festivals. Our hot cross-buns at Easter are only the cakes which the pagan Saxons ate in honour of their goddess Eastre, and from which the Christian clergy, who were unable to prevent people from eating, sought to expel the paganism by marking them with the cross. It is curious that the use of these cakes should have been preserved so long in this locality, and still more curious are the tales which have arisen to explain the meaning of the name, which had been long forgotten. Some pretend that the father of Lambert Simnel, the well-known pretender in the reign of Henry VII., was a baker, and the first maker of simnels, and that in consequence of the celebrity he gained by the acts of his son, the cakes have retained his name. There is another story current in Shropshire, which is much more picturesque, and which we tell as nearly as possible in the words in which it was related to us. Long ago there lived an honest old couple, boasting the names of Simon and Nelly, but their surnames are not known. It was their custom at Easter to gather their children about them, and thus meet together once a year under the old homestead. The fast season of Lent was just ending, but still they had left some of the unleavened dough which had been from time to time converted into bread during the forty days. Nelly was a careful woman, and it grieved her to waste anything, so she suggested that they should use the remains of the Lenten dough for the basis of a cake to regale the assembled family. Simon readily agreed to the proposal, and further reminded his partner that there were still some remains of their Christmas plum-pudding hoarded up in the cupboard, and that this might form the interior, and be an agreeable surprise to the young people when they had made their way through the less tasty crust. So far, all things went on harmoniously; but when the cake was made, a subject of violent discord arose, Sim insisting that it should be boiled, while Nell no less obstinately contended that it should be baked. The dispute ran from words to blows, for Nell, not choosing to let her province in the household be thus interfered with, jumped up, and threw the stool she was sitting on at Sim, who on his part seized a besom, and applied it with right good will to the head and shoulders of his spouse. She now seized the broom, and the battle became so warm that it might have had a very serious result, had not Nell proposed as a compromise that the cake should be boiled first and afterwards baked. This Sim acceded to, for he had no wish for further acquaintance with the heavy end of the broom. Accordingly, the big pot was set on the fire, and the stool broken up and thrown on to boil it, whilst the besom and broom furnished fuel for the oven. Some eggs, which had been broken in the scuffle, were used to coat the outside of the pudding when boiled, which gave it the shining gloss it possesses as a cake. This new and remarkable production in the art of confectionery became known by the name of the cake of Simon and Nelly, but soon only the first half of each name was alone preserved and joined together, and it has ever since been known as the cake of Sim-Nel, or Simnel.—Chambers's Book of Days.

"I'll to thee asimnelbring,'Gainst thou go a-mothering;So that, when she blesses thee,Half that blessing thou'lt give me."

He here obviously alludes to the sweet cakes which the young person brought to the female parent as a gift; but it would appear that the term "simnel" was in reality applicable to cakes which were in use all through the time of Lent.... We learn from Ducange that it was usual in early times to mark the simnels with a figure of Christ or of the Virgin Mary, which would seem to show that they had a religious signification. We know that the Anglo-Saxon, and indeed the German race in general, were in the habit of eating consecrated cakes at their religious festivals. Our hot cross-buns at Easter are only the cakes which the pagan Saxons ate in honour of their goddess Eastre, and from which the Christian clergy, who were unable to prevent people from eating, sought to expel the paganism by marking them with the cross. It is curious that the use of these cakes should have been preserved so long in this locality, and still more curious are the tales which have arisen to explain the meaning of the name, which had been long forgotten. Some pretend that the father of Lambert Simnel, the well-known pretender in the reign of Henry VII., was a baker, and the first maker of simnels, and that in consequence of the celebrity he gained by the acts of his son, the cakes have retained his name. There is another story current in Shropshire, which is much more picturesque, and which we tell as nearly as possible in the words in which it was related to us. Long ago there lived an honest old couple, boasting the names of Simon and Nelly, but their surnames are not known. It was their custom at Easter to gather their children about them, and thus meet together once a year under the old homestead. The fast season of Lent was just ending, but still they had left some of the unleavened dough which had been from time to time converted into bread during the forty days. Nelly was a careful woman, and it grieved her to waste anything, so she suggested that they should use the remains of the Lenten dough for the basis of a cake to regale the assembled family. Simon readily agreed to the proposal, and further reminded his partner that there were still some remains of their Christmas plum-pudding hoarded up in the cupboard, and that this might form the interior, and be an agreeable surprise to the young people when they had made their way through the less tasty crust. So far, all things went on harmoniously; but when the cake was made, a subject of violent discord arose, Sim insisting that it should be boiled, while Nell no less obstinately contended that it should be baked. The dispute ran from words to blows, for Nell, not choosing to let her province in the household be thus interfered with, jumped up, and threw the stool she was sitting on at Sim, who on his part seized a besom, and applied it with right good will to the head and shoulders of his spouse. She now seized the broom, and the battle became so warm that it might have had a very serious result, had not Nell proposed as a compromise that the cake should be boiled first and afterwards baked. This Sim acceded to, for he had no wish for further acquaintance with the heavy end of the broom. Accordingly, the big pot was set on the fire, and the stool broken up and thrown on to boil it, whilst the besom and broom furnished fuel for the oven. Some eggs, which had been broken in the scuffle, were used to coat the outside of the pudding when boiled, which gave it the shining gloss it possesses as a cake. This new and remarkable production in the art of confectionery became known by the name of the cake of Simon and Nelly, but soon only the first half of each name was alone preserved and joined together, and it has ever since been known as the cake of Sim-Nel, or Simnel.—Chambers's Book of Days.

Rejoice, Oh English hearts, rejoice!Rejoice, Oh lovers dear;Rejoice, Oh city, town, and country,Rejoice, eke every shire.For now the fragrant flowersDo spring and sprout in seemly sort;The little birds do sit and sing,The lambs do make fine sport.Up then, I say both young and old,Both man and maid amaying,With drums and guns that bounce aloud,And merry tabor playing.Old May-day Song.

Old May-day Song.

TheMay-day festivities and superstitious ceremonies belong to the same antique or pagan class as those previously described. The Irish antiquary, O'Brien, says that the practice of lighting fires in honour of the god Bel, on May-day, gave the Irish name "Mina-Bealtine" to the flowery month. Brand says: "In honour of May-day, the Goths and Southern Swedes had a mock battle between summer and winter, which ceremony is retained in the Isle of Man, where the Danes and Norwegians had been for a long time masters." This, evidently, is a remnant of an Aryan myth. Olaus Magnus says, the "Northern natives have a custom to welcome the returning splendour of the sun with dancing, and mutually to feast each other, rejoicing that a better season for feasting and hunting was approached." Tollet quaintly says: "Better judges may decide that the institution of this festival originated from the Roman Floralia, or from the Celtic La Beltine, while I conceive it derived to us from our Gothic ancestors." The theory of the common Aryan source of these festive rites reconciles Tollet's conception with the decision of the "better judges," for whose opinion he evidently entertains profound respect. The Rev. Mr. Maurice, in his learned work on "The Antiquities of India," contends that the May-day festivities were originally inaugurated at the vernal equinox, and that they pertained to a "phallic festival to celebrate the generativepowers of nature." From this stand-point he argues that they are the remains of very ancient ceremonies well known to Egypt, India, and other places. His reasoning on this subject is very learned and ingenious. He says:—

"When the reader calls to mind what has already been observed, that, owing to a precession of the equinox, after the rate of seventy-two years to a degree, a total alteration has taken place through all the signs of the ecliptic, insomuch that those stars which formerly were in Aries have now got into Taurus, and those of Taurus into Gemini; and when he considers also the difference before mentioned, occasioned by the reform of the calendar, he will not wonder at the disagreement that exists in respect to the exact period of the year on which the great festivals were anciently kept, and that on which, in imitation of primæval customs, they are celebrated by the moderns. Now, the vernal equinox, after the rate of that precession, certainly could not have coincided with the first of May less than four thousand years before Christ, which nearly marks the æra of creation, which, according to the best and wisest of chronologers, began at the vernal equinox, when all nature was gay and smiling, and the earth arrayed in its loveliest verdure, and not, as others have imagined, at the dreary autumnal equinox, when that nature must necessarily have its beauty declining, and that earth its verdure decaying. I have little doubt, therefore, that May-day, or at least the day on which the sun entered Taurus, has been immemorably kept as a sacred festival from the creation of the earth and man, and was originally intended as a memorial of that auspicious period and that momentous event.... On the general devotion of the ancients to the worship of thebullI have had frequent occasion to remark, andmore particularly in the Indian history, by their devotion to it at that period—

'Aperit cum cornibus annum Taurus.'

'When the bull with his horns openeth the vernal year.' I observed that all nations seem anciently to have vied with each other in celebrating that blissful epoch; and that the moment the sun entered the sign Taurus, were displayed the signals of triumph and the incentives to passion; that memorials of the universal festivity indulged in at that season are to be found in the records and customs of people otherwise the most opposite in manners and most remote in situation. I could not avoid considering the circumstance as a strong additional proof that mankind originally descended from one great family, and proceeded to the several regions in which they finally settled, from one common and central spot; that the Apis, or sacredbull of Egypt, was only the symbol of the sun in the vigour of vernal youth; that the bull of Japan, breaking with his horn the mundane egg, was evidently connected with the same bovine species of superstition, founded on the mixture of astronomy and mythology."

According to Mr. Maurice's calculation, the vernal equinox could not have coincided with the first degree of Aries later, at the latest, than eighteen hundred years before Christ. The festival of the vernal equinox would then be celebrated on the first of April. The modern "April fool" freaks are regarded by many writers as relics of these festivities. In India this is termed the Huli festival. It has previously been shown that, in modern Welsh,heulomeans to shine as the sun.Heuloglikewise means sunny or sunshiny.

The original purport of most of the May-day ceremonials was unquestionably a demonstration of joy at the return of spring. Rowe, speaking of the tower of Magdalen College, Oxford, and its famous peal of ten bells, says, "On May-day the choristers assemble on the top to usher in the spring." Oxonians of the "olden time," appear to have welcomed the season not simply by blowing lustily through cows' horns, but by drinking deeply from cups fashioned therefrom. Herne says this blowing and drinking was done "upon the jollities of the first of May, to remind people of the pleasantness of that part of the year, which ought to create mirth and gaiety."

In the north of England, especially, Bourne informs us, that the more youthful portion of the villagers, of both sexes, were in the habit, at midnight, on the eve of May-day, of rendezvousing in some neighbouring wood, with the view of gathering green branches of trees and wild flowers, from which they made garlands, etc., and carried them in procession during the day. Some of these garlands were afterwards deposited in the neighbouring churches; others decorated the doors and windows of the villagers' residences. It appears that the gathering of these woodspoils was accompanied by much clangour of rude music, including the blowing of cows' horns, previously referred to. Stubbs, the Puritan, in his "Anatomy of Abuses," published in 1585, rebukes this custom on account of the immoralities which such midnight forest gatherings would doubtless give rise to. And yet the practice was very common, and was countenanced by the highest in rank in the kingdom. King Henry VIII. and his Queen, Katherine of Arragon, and the courtiers, are reported to have much enjoyed this species of pastime.

Stubbs thus describes the custom he denounces:—

"Against May, every parish, town, and village assembled themselvestogether, both men, women, and children, old and young, even all indifferently, and either going all together or dividing themselves into companies, they go, some to the woods and groves, some to the hills and mountains, some to one place, some to another, where they spend all the night in pastimes, and in the morning they return, bringing with them birch boughs and branches of trees, to deck their assembly withal."

Chaucer, in his "Court of Love," makes reference to the May-day ceremonies of his time, and says that early in the morning "fourth goth al the Court, both most and lest, to fetche the flouris fresh, and braunch and blome."

The supposed appropriateness of May-day for love-making is referred to by Shakspere in "A Midsummer Night's Dream." Lysander, in the first act, wishing to further his suit to Hermia, says:—

If thou lovest me, then,Steal from thy father's house to-morrow night;And in the wood, a league without the town,Where I did meet thee once with Helena,To do observance of a morn of May,There will I stay for thee.

Again, in the fourth act, when Theseus and his hunting party discover the two pairs of sweethearts asleep in the wood, the Duke, in reply to a query by Egeus, says:—

No doubt,they rose up early, to observeThe rite of May; and, hearing our intent,Come here in grace of our solemnity.

Herrick, in a quaint lyric on this subject, says:—

There's not a budding boy or girl, this day,But is got up and gone to bring in May;A deal of youth ere this is comeBack, with white-thorn laden home.

Milton thus magnificently apostrophises the advent of the "flowery month":—

Now the bright morning star, day's harbinger,Comes dancing from the East, and leads with herThe flow'ry May, who from her green lap throwsThe yellow cowslip and the pale primrose.Hail, bounteous May! thou dost inspireMirth and youth and fond desire;Woods and groves are of thy dressing,Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing.Thus we salute thee with our early song,And welcome thee and wish thee long.

Old Stowe thus quaintly describes the May-day doings in the beginning of the seventeenth century:—

"On May-day, in the morning, every man, except impediment, would walke into the sweete meadowes and greene woods, there to rejoyce their spirites with the beauty and savour of sweete flowers, and with the harmony of birds praysing God in their kind. I find also that in the moneth of May the citizens of London, of all estates, lightly in every parish, or sometimes two or three parishes joyning together, had their severall Mayings, and did fetch in May-poles, with diverse warlike shewes, with good archers, morice dauncers, and other devices, for pastime all day long, and towards the evening they had stage playes and bonfieers in the streets."

Polwhele, in his "History of Cornwall," describes a spring festival, said to be of very ancient origin, annually celebrated at Helston on the 8th of May, named the "Furry," or gathering. The day opens with singing and the beating of drums and kettles. The whole population rush out of the town into the country, and return garlanded with leaves and flowers, in which guise they caper about the streets, and enter unmolested each others' houses to congratulate their neighbours on the return of spring.

The young people of Spotland, in the parish of Rochdale, are yet in the habit of assembling on the hill sides on the first Sunday in May, and exchanging congratulations on the return of spring. They drink to each others' health in liquor supplied by the pure mountain streamlets—no inapt substitute for the "heavenly soma" of the Vedic hymns. No doubt, some genuine love-making, as well as much licentiousness, has resulted from the observance of such ceremonies. It was formerly a custom, for milkmaids especially, in various parts of the country, to dance around a "garland" decorated with articles of value, very much after the fashion of the rush-bearers of Lancashire at the present day. The latter adorn their rush-cart and its contents with goblets, watches, and other polished metal articles, lent by friends for the occasion. Brand, speaking of the milkmaids in the neighbourhood of London, says:—

"They used to dress themselves in holiday guise on this morning, and come in bands with fiddles, whereto they danced, attended by a strange-looking pyramidal pile, covered with pewter plates, ribands, and streamers, either borne by a man upon his head or by two men upon a hand-barrow; this was called their garland."

Doubtless, the "well-dressing," or the decoration of springs andfountains with flowers, yet very common in some counties, and especially in Derbyshire, either owes its origin to the Roman Floralia, or to a still older custom, the common Aryan root of both. Dr. Stukeley, the celebrated antiquary, writing in 1724, speaks of a May-pole near Horn Castle, Lincolnshire, on a spot "where probably stood an Hermes in Roman times." He adds: "The boys annually keep up the festival of theFloraliaon May-day, making a procession to this hill with May gads (as they call them) in their hands. This is a white willow wand, the bark peeled off, ty'd round with cowslips, a thyrsus of the Bacchanals. At night they have a bonefire, and other merriment, which is really a sacrifice or religious festival."

The old Puritan writers seem to have entertained a most profound horror of the ancient May-day festivities. Friar Tuck was pronounced a remnant of popery; maid Marian was the scarlet lady herself; and the hobby-horse was consigned to the limbo of defunct pagan superstitions. A May-pole was an abomination equalled only in atrocity by a "Whitsun-ale" or a "Morris-dance." Old Stubbs calls the May-pole a "stinking idol," and says it was brought home with "greatveneration," hence his malediction. The attendant ceremony he describes as follows: "They have twenty or forty yoke of oxen, every ox having a sweet nosegay of flowers tied to the tips of his horns; and these oxen draw home the May-pole, covered all over with flowers and herbs, bound round with strings from the top to the bottom, and sometimes painted with variable colours, having two or three hundred men, women, and children following it with greatdevotion." Stubbs evidently knew that the May-pole was of pagan origin, if he was ignorant of its phallic character.

The court, however, favoured some of these pastimes. King James I. received a deputation on the subject during his stay at Hoghton Tower; and at Myerscough, near Preston, in Lancashire, he made a "speeche about libertie to piping and honest recreation." This was followed by his famous proclamation, levelled chiefly against the "Puritans and precise people of Lancashire." This action culminated in the still more celebrated "Book of Sports." Charles I., in 1633, republished "his blessed father's declaration," which decreed that "after the end of Divine service, his good people be not disturbed, letted, or discouraged from any lawful recreation; such as dancing, either men or women; archery for men, leaping, vaulting, or any other such harmless recreations; nor from having of May Games, Whitsun Ales, and Morris Dances, and the setting up ofMay-poles, and other sports therewith used; so as the same may be had in due and convenient time, without impediment or neglect of Divine Service. And that women shall have leave to carry rushes to the church, for the decoration of it according to their old custom. But withall his Majesty doth hereby account still as prohibited all unlawful games to be used, on Sundays only, as bear and bull baitings, interludes, and, at all times, in the meaner sort of people, as by law prohibited, bowling."

Our ancestors appear to have regarded the playing at bowls as an especially dignified recreation, and to have guarded by statute the game from any profanation by the vulgar. Old Strype records that owing to threatened disturbances in the North of England, a strict search was made, in every part of the kingdom, on the night of Sunday, the 10th July, 1569, for vagrants, beggars, gamesters, rogues, or gipsies. It resulted in the apprehension of thirteen thousand "masterless men." The chief offence with which they were charged was that they had no visible mode of living, "except that which was derived fromunlawfulgames, especially of bowling, and maintenance of archery."

The sight of a May-pole, so offensive to the Puritan of old, excited a very different train of thought in the imagination of Washington Irving, on his first visit to this country. He says:—

"I shall never forget the delight I felt on first seeing a May-pole. It was on the banks of the Dee, close by the picturesque old bridge that stretches across the river from the quaint little city of Chester. I had already been carried back into former days by the antiquities of that venerable place, the examination of which is equal to turning over the pages of a black letter volume, or gazing on the pictures in Froissart. The May-pole on the margin of that poetic stream completed the illusion. My fancy adorned it with wreaths of flowers, and peopled the green bank with all the dancing revelry of May-day. The mere sight of this May-pole gave a glow to my feelings, and spread a charm over the country for the rest of the day; and, as I traversed a part of the fair plain of Cheshire, and the beautiful borders of Wales, and looked from among swelling hills down a long green valley, through which 'the Deva wound its wizard stream,' my imagination turned all into a perfect Arcadia."

The Laureate, in his beautiful poem, "The May Queen," has most happily pourtrayed the buoyant, joyous heart-feeling of the modern juvenile representative of the mythical Maid Marian of old. Eliza Cook, in one of the most successful of her many truly national songs,has hit off the spirit of the ancient May-day festivities with remarkable truthfulness and power:—

My brave land! my brave land! oh, may'st thou be my grave-land!For firm and fond will be the bond that ties my breast to thee.When Summer's beams are glowing, when Autumn's gusts are blowing,When Winter's clouds are snowing, thou art still right dear to me.But yet methinks I love thee bestWhen bees are nursed on white-thorn breast,When spring-tide pours in—sweet and blest—And Mirth and Hope come dancing;When music from the feathered throngBreaks forth in merry marriage-song,And mountain streamlets dash along,Like molten diamonds glancing!Oh! pleasant 'tis to scan the page,Rich with the theme of by-gone age;When motley fool and learned sageBrought garlands for the gay pole;When laugh and shout came ringing outFrom courtly knight and peasant lout,In "Hurrah for merry England, andThe raising of the May-pole;"When the good old times had carol rhymes,With morris games and village chimes;When clown and priest shared cup and feast,And the greatest jostled with the least,At the "raising of the May-pole."

Oh! pleasant 'tis to scan the page,Rich with the theme of by-gone age;When motley fool and learned sageBrought garlands for the gay pole;When laugh and shout came ringing outFrom courtly knight and peasant lout,In "Hurrah for merry England, andThe raising of the May-pole;"When the good old times had carol rhymes,With morris games and village chimes;When clown and priest shared cup and feast,And the greatest jostled with the least,At the "raising of the May-pole."

The people of Lancashire, until very recently, kept the May-day festival with considerableéclat. Indeed, it is by no means forgotten at the present day. The main streets of Preston, Manchester, and other towns, during "the good old coaching time," presented a remarkably gay appearance, in consequence of the horses being decorated, and some of them profusely, with ribbons and other festive ornaments.

The decoration of horses with flowers and ribbons, the raising of May-poles, and the attendant dances and games, are yet far from obsolete in many parts of England. A few years ago I attended a May-day gathering at a village in North Cheshire; but the dancers, as well as the May Queen, were all children, and the spectators chiefly ladies and gentlemen from Manchester and its neighbourhood. It was a very pretty sight, and was patronised by the neighbouring "squire" (R. E. Warburton)[22]and his family, but it lacked thehealthy rusticity which I had anticipated from the hearty enjoyment of lusty farm labourers and their sweethearts in the old-fashioned May-day dance.

The Rev. Jno. E. Sedgwick, of St. Alban's Church, Cheetwood, Manchester, has recently revived the May-day games; but, although termed May-day festivities, the decoration of the May-pole, the crowning of the May Queen, etc., which I visited, took place, in 1867, in Whit-week, which is the great Manchester holiday. The children looked pretty with their pink sashes and wreaths of green leaves, and evidently enjoyed themselves much. With this exception, however, the affair was in little distinguishable from ordinary holiday sports, and it certainly lacked the necessary rusticity to suggest any strong sympathy with the rural festival of the "olden time."

The practice of gathering hawthorn blossoms, where practicable on the 1st of May, still continues, and in many localities superstition lingers respecting the supernatural properties of this tree. The hanging up in the homestead of a white thorn branch procured on May-day was supposed to act as an antidote to the machinations of witchcraft. Both the white and black thorn are considered as representatives of theMimosa catechu, the sacred thorn of India, which, being sprung from lightning, was supposed to be endowed with supernatural properties. Amongst the Germans "wishing" or "divining" rods were made from both the black and the white thorn. Walter Kelly says, "The wood of the thorn (ramnos) was used by the Greeks for the drilling stick of their pyreia (or fire-producing chark), and it was held by them to be prophylactic against magic, as the white thorn was by the Romans, among whom it was used for marriage torches."

I have referred, in a preceding chapter, to the superstition respecting the blossoming of the Christmas thorn at midnight, onOldChristmas eve. The legend has, no doubt, intimate relationship to the presumed supernatural attributes of the celebrated Glastonbury thorn, and its progeny. The original plant, according to Collinson's "History of Somersetshire," was the dry hawthorn staff which St. Joseph of Arimathea stuck into the ground when weary with journeying.

In one of the Coventry Mysteries, "The Miraculous Espousal of Mary and Joseph," the blossoming of the rod of the latter is the sign that he is the destined husband of the former. When the feeble old man unwillingly appears before the "bishop Issachar," he is surprisedto see his staff break out into flower. Issachar is equally astonished, and exclaims:—

A mercy! mercy! mercy! lord, we crye!The blyssyd of God we see art thou!···Here may be see a merveyl one,A ded stok beryth fflours ffre.Joseph, in hert, with outen mone,Thou may'st be blyth, with game and gle,A mayd to wedde, thou must gone,Be this meracle I do wel se;Mary is here name.

···

This superstition bears evident marks of near relationship to some of both the Greek and the Indoo, as well as other Eastern mythical faiths. The blossoming staff of Joseph appears to be but a reproduction of the budding thyrsus of the Bacchanals and of Hermes, which is regarded as a phallic symbol, typical of the reproductive forces of nature. In the Teutonic mythology the fylfot, or revivifying hammer of Thor, as previously shown, likewise reproduces a phallic symbol.

So highly were branches and blossoms from the Glastonbury thorn esteemed that Bristol merchants exported large quantities. The Puritans, in Elizabeth's reign, cut down one of its stems, and the other was demolished during the "Great Rebellion." Collinson says, "It is strange to see how much this tree was sought after by the credulous; and, though a common thorn, Queen Anne, King James, and many of the nobility of the realm, even when the times of monkish superstition had ceased, gave large sums of money for small cuttings from the original."

Some authorities regard this Christmas flowering thorn as a variety of thecratægus monogyna, or common hawthorn, probably brought by the early crusaders from Palestine. If this be true, it throws some light on the origin of the reverence in which it was held by the pilgrims to the shrine of St. Joseph at Glastonbury.

The sacred character of the white thorn especially, appears to have become interwoven with a great variety of superstitious belief. A writer in theQuarterly Reviewfor July, 1863, treating of "Sacred Trees and Flowers," says, "The white thorn is one of the trees most in favour with the small people" [the fairies]; "and both in Brittany and in some parts of Ireland it is held unsafe to gather even a leaf from certain old and solitary thorns which grow in sheltered hollows of the moorland, and are the fairies' trysting places. But no 'evil ghost' dares to approach the white thorn." The writer attributes this peculiar sanctity of the white thorn to the belief that the crownplaced in derision on the head of Christ, previous to his crucifixion, was made from branches of this tree; and, doubtless, at the present day, such may be mainly the case, although, as the writer himself observes, modern botanical researches have taught us that the fact "cannot have been so." Kelly says we know more than even this; "we know that the white thorn was a sacred tree before Christianity existed, so that we must needs invert the statement of the writer in theQuarterly, and conclude that the ancient sanctity of the aubépine, or white thorn, was what gave rise to the mediæval belief." He further contends that the excerpt relied upon by the writer, from Sir John Mandeville, who flourished in the earlier portion of the fourteenth century, shows on its face that the old wanderer was "an unconscious witness to the enduring vitality of the Aryan tradition that invested the hawthorn with the virtues of a tree sprung from the lightning."

The passage referred to is curious. Sir John says, "Then was our Lord ylad into a gardyn ... and there the Jews scorned hym, and maden hym a croune of the braunches of the albespyne, that is white thorn, that grew in the same gardyn, and seten yt on hys heved.... And, therefore, hath the white thorn many virtues. For he that beareth a braunch on hym thereof, no thondere, no ne manner of tempest may dere [hurt] him; ne in the hows that yt is ynne may non evil ghost entre."

The knowledge of the traditionary faith in the sanctity of this tree invests with considerable interest the eagerness of children, resident in populous towns, to obtain a sprig of hawthorn blossom from any stranger returning from the country with a few branches of this May trophy. I have had scores of applications of this class for the small branches which I have carried in my hand from Old Trafford to Manchester. But, of course, children exhibit a similarly eagerly desire to obtain possession of flowers, and especially wild flowers, of every class. Longfellow has beautifully said:—

In the cottage of the rudest peasant,In ancestral homes whose crumbling towers,Speaking of the Past unto the Present,Tell us of the ancient games of Flowers;In all places, then, and in all seasons,Flowers expand their light and soul-like wings,Teaching us, by most persuasive reasons,How akin they are to human things;And with child-like, credulous affection,We behold their tender buds expand;Emblems of our own great resurrection,Emblems of the bright and better land.

Amongst the other virtues ascribed to dew gathered on May-day morning, its supposed power over the complexion yet finds believers. Old Pepys, in his most interesting, if sometimes stupid, diary, says:—"My wife away down with Jane and W. Hewer to Woolwich, in order to a little ayre, and to lay there to-night, and so to gather May dew to-morrow morning, which Mrs. Turner hath taught her is the only thing in the world to wash her face with; and I am contented with it." Kelly says: "The Aryan idea, that the rain clouds were cows, has been well preserved among the Northern nations.... It is a very common opinion that rain and dew, the milk of the heavenly cows, are capable of increasing the milk of the earthly cows; hence a dewy May morning is welcomed as giving promise of a good dairy year." Mannhardt speaks of a practice in North Germany of tying a May bush to the tail of the leading cow on May-day morning, in order that she may brush up the potent dew, and so increase the contents of her udder. But the strangest faith in the potency of May-dew is related by Sir John Mandeville. The quaint old traveller seriously assures us that in Ethiopia there are male and female diamonds that enter into matrimonial relationship and have offspring! Nay, he declares that he himself has "often tymes assayed it," and found that the precious stones do grow year by year, on one condition, namely, that they be well wetted with May-dew! He says:—

"And ther be sume of the gretnesse of a bene, and sume als grete as an haselle note. And thei ben square and poynted of here owne kinde, bothe aboven and benethen, withouten worchinge of mannes hond. And thei growen to gedre, male and femele. And thei ben norysscht with the dew of Hevene. And thei engendren comounly, and bryngen forthe smale children, that multiplyen and growen alle the yeer. I have often tymes assayed, that gif a man kepe hem with a litylle of the roche, and wete hem with May dew ofte sithes, thei schulle growe everyche yeer; and the small wole waxen grete."

Sir Kenelm Digby, two centuries ago, in a letter to the younger Winthorp, governor of New England, expresses his great faith in the efficacy of dew in the cure of deliriums, frenzies, and manias; but he does not intimate any preference for dew gathered on May-day. All dew does not appear, however, to have possessed these curative qualities. Some, indeed, was of a malignant or deadly character. Ariel, in "the Tempest," speaks of "the deep nook" in the harbour

where once,Thou call'dst me up at midnight to fetch dewFrom the still-vext Bermothes.

Caliban, when venting his rage on Prospero and Miranda, can find no stronger curse than the following:—

As wicked dew as e'er my mother brush'dWith raven's feather from unwholesome fen,Drop on you both!

May not this dew superstition have relationship, in some of its phases, to the classic myth of Kephalos (the head of the sun), Procris (the dew), and Eôs (the east or morning)? Mr. Cox says "it sprung from three simple phrases, one of which said, 'The sun loves the dew;' while the second said that 'the morning loves the sun;' and the third added that 'the sun killed the dew.'" Hence both the good and evil influences attendant thereon.

FOOTNOTES:[22]Mr. Warburton is the author of several capital hunting and other songs, in the dialect of North Cheshire.

[22]Mr. Warburton is the author of several capital hunting and other songs, in the dialect of North Cheshire.

What are these,So wither'd and so wild in their attire;That look not like the inhabitants o' the earth,And yet are on't? Live you? or are you aughtThat man may question?Shakspere.

What are these,So wither'd and so wild in their attire;That look not like the inhabitants o' the earth,And yet are on't? Live you? or are you aughtThat man may question?

Shakspere.

Thecounty of Lancaster especially has been famous for its witches—or infamous, rather, if the reader prefer the latter epithet. Certainly, the hanging of the poor old women from Pendle side, for their supposed sorcery, is neither a legislative nor a judicial feat to feel very proud of, especially in these days of "spirit-rapping mediums" and darkséanceperformers, who supply writing done by invisible hands, and cause heads to be thumped by malignant imps in the shape of discordant fiddles, trumpets, and tambourines. This modern necromancery, it must not be forgotten, is performed under aristocratic patronage, andfor a monetary considerationwhich would have rejoiced greatly the hearts that beat wildly beneath the weather-worn skins of poor old Dame Demdike and her compeers. Truly, popular superstition, as well as tradition, is "tough." Forms, manners, and customs may change externally, but it requires the lapse of long, long periods of time to totally eradicate from the imagination of an entire peopleall faithin any mystery, however absurd to modern scientific minds, to which their ancestors once clung with simple earnest truthfulness. The witchcraft of the old Demdike and Chattox school, in all its essential features, is derived from the early superstitions of our Eastern Aryan progenitors. Nay, the mystical character of many of its more vulgar "stage properties," such as cauldrons, besoms, sieves, hares, cats, &c., was recorded with all due solemnity in the Rig Vedas of the Southern Aryans, some three thousand two hundred years ago. Pliny says that, in his day, theBritons celebrated magic rites with so many similar ceremonies that one might suppose them to have been instructed therein by the Persians. In the Britain of our day, after passing through both Keltic, Teutonic, Greek, and Roman channels, these superstitions yet exist either in the traditionary lore of the rustic population, or the more elevated art forms with which poetry, sculpture, and painting have clothed them. The diamond crystal and the charred willow branch are near relatives of the carbon family; and it may truly be said that a similar relationship exists between the weird "folk lore" of the wild moorlands or the lonely mountain glens and the noble artistic creations of a Shakspere, a Walter Scott, an Ovid, a Homer, an Apelles, or a Phidias. Truly, "one touch of Nature makes the whole world kin," and especially if that touch be given by a finger which has been dipped deeply in the dark pool of mysticism.

Witches appear, on the whole, and in more modern times especially, to typify evil or malignant influences, and are not unfrequently degraded forms of the deities of a preceding mythology. Kelly, on the authority of Schwartz and others, speaks of the "human witches" of Northern nations as "degenerate and abhorred representatives of the ancient goddesses and their attendants, who were themselves developments of the primitive conception of thecloud-women; but witches, even in their degraded state, exhibit a multitude of characteristics by which we can recognise the originals of whom they are but loathsome caricatures. Their alleged May-day meetings, for instance, on the Brocken, the Blocksberg, and at Lucken Hare, in the Eildon Hills, are not, as commonly supposed, merely reminiscences of certain popular gatherings in heathen times, but were originally assemblages of goddesses and their retinues, making their customary progress through the land at the opening of the spring, and visible to their believing votaries in the shifting clouds about the summits of the mountains. Even the May-day night dances of the witches, with the devil for the master of the ceremonies in the shape of a buck goat, are but coarse representations of weather tokens of the early spring; they are analogous in all but their ugliness to the dances of the nymphs, led by the goat-footed Pan at the same glad season of the year amongst the clouds on the windy mountain tops of Arcadia." The witch revelling at Alloway Kirk, as detailed in several Scottish traditions, and rendered immortal by the genius of Burns, seems to confirm this view.

Amongst the infernal deities of classical mythology were the Fates or Destinies, named Parcæ. They were, like Shakspere's weird sisters,three in number, and are said by some to have been the offspring of Erebus and Nox, and by others of Jupiter and Themis. Their mode of divination was a spinning process. When determining the future life or career of a mortal, Clotho held the distaff, while Lachesis did the spinning and Atropos cut the thread. According to Ovid, these divining deities were equally successful in their occult labours when without, as when with, some necessary "staple" on which to exercise their spinning ingenuity or skill.

Witches were supposed to compass the death of any obnoxious individual by making an image of the victim in wax. As this slowly melted before a fire, or under other applied heat, it was believed the original would in like manner sicken and decay. Images were frequently formed of other materials, and maltreated in some form or other, to produce similar results. This superstition yet obtains to a great extent in the East and elsewhere. Dubois, in his "People of India," speaks of magicians who make small images in mud or clay, and write the names of the objects of their animosity on the breasts thereof. These are afterwards pierced with thorns or otherwise mutilated, "so as to communicate a corresponding injury to the person represented."

There is considerable affinity, in this phase of the superstition, to the classic solar myth which records the doom of Meleager. The Mœræ, the three sisters, or the Fates, informed Althæa, the mother of the future hero, when in his cradle, that her son would die when a certain brand they pointed out on the hearth was totally consumed. She instantly snatched it away, plunged it into water, and hid it in a secret place. In later years, Meleager slew a brother of Althæa, which so exasperated the mother that she laid her curse upon her son. She brought out the brand from its hiding place, and flung it on the fire. As it burnt away, the strength of the hero decayed, and, with the extinguishing of its last spark, he expired. Mr. Cox says Meleager's life is that "of the sun, which is bound up with the torch of day; when the torch burns out he dies."

The gradual change of the old Aryan superstition into its more modern form would seem to be indicated by a passage in the writings of Pomponius Mela, who flourished in the reign of the Emperor Claudius. The old writer, describing what his translator terms a "Druidical nunnery," says it "was situated in an island in the British sea, and contained nine of thesevenerable vestals, who pretended that they could raise storms and tempests by their incantations, could cure the most incurable diseases, could transform themselves into all kinds of animals, and foresee future events."

Reginald Scot, in his "Discoverie of Witchcraft," published in 1584, describes the nature of the faith in this superstition as it existed in his day, and for ridiculing which he was covered with obloquy, and his book was not only "refuted" by King James I. and a host of others, but it was ignominiously consigned to the flames by the hands of the common hangman. This shrewd old writer says:

"No one endued with common sense but will deny that the elements are obedient to witches and at their commandment, or that they may, at their pleasure, send rain, hail, tempests, thunder, lightning, when she, being but an old doting woman, casteth a flint stone over her left shoulder towards the west, or hurleth a little sea sand up into the element, or wetteth a broom-sprig in water, and sprinkleth the same in the air; or diggeth a pit in the earth, and, putting water therein, stirreth it about with her finger; or boileth hogs' bristles; or layeth sticks across upon a bank where never was a drop of water; or burieth sage till it be rotten; all which things are confessed by witches, and affirmed by writers to be the means that witches used to move extraordinary tempests and rain."

The elaborate title-page of this curious work, vividly illustrates the condition of the public mind on this subject in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries:—"Scot's Discovery of Witchcraft; Familiars; and their power to kill, torment, and consume the bodies of men, women, and children, or other creatures by disease or otherwise; their flying in the Air etc.: To be but imaginary Erronious conceptions and novelties; wherein also the lewde, unchristian practises of Witchmongers, upon aged, melancholy, ignorant and superstitious people in extorting confessions by inhumane terrors and Tortures is notably detected. Also the knavery and confederacy of Conjurors. The impious blasphemy of Inchanters. The imposture of Soothsayers, and infidelity of Atheists. The delusion of Pythonists, Figure-casters, Astrologers, and vanity of Dreamers. The fruitlesse beggerly act of Alchimistry. The horrible act of Poisoning and all the tricks and conveyances of juggling and legerdemain are fully deciphered. With many other things opened that have long lain hidden: though very necessary to be known for the undeceiving of Judges, Justices, and Juries, and for the preservation of poor, aged, deformed, ignorant people; frequently taken, arraigned, condemned and executed for Witches, when according to a right understanding, and a good conscience, Physic, Food, and necessaries should be administered to him. Whereunto is added a treatise upon the nature and substance of Spirits and Divels, &c., all written andpublished in Anno 1584. ByReginald Scot, Esquire. Printed by R. C. and are to be sold by Giles Calvert dwelling at the Black Spread-Eagle, at the West-End of Pauls, 1651."

Wierus, a German physician, indeed, in 1563, published a work, in which he undertook the refutation of many of the so-called facts and phenomena which were believed to pertain to witchcraft, but he apparently dared not to venture a direct denial of the existence of sorcery or demoniacal possession. He, however, did much, considering the conditions by which he was surrounded. He thanked God that his labour had not been in vain, but that it had "in many places caused the cruelty against innocent blood to slacken." He claimed, and certainly deserved, the civic wreath, for having saved the lives of so many of his fellow-citizens.

Doubtless, in addition to the genuine superstition, there existed, as at the present time, a certain amount of imposture in connection therewith, although, owing to the heavy penalties inflicted by the law, the credulous element may be supposed to have largely preponderated. It is somewhat remarkable that the celebrated Pendle witches, Demdike, Chattox, &c., were pronouncedgenuinesorcerers, and were hanged accordingly, at Lancaster, in the year 1612; while the eight from Samlesbury, near Preston, were acquitted, because they were suspected to be not thegenuinearticle, but a fraudulent imitation thereof.

So thoroughly saturated was the public mind with a belief in witchcraft, until a relatively recent period, that hundreds were yearly executed for this supposed crime. Howell, in his "State Trials," estimates that, in one hundred and fifty years, thirty thousand persons suffered death as witches in England alone!

Bishop Jewel, when preaching a sermon before Queen Elizabeth, exhorted her Majesty to use her authority to check the "tremendous operations of the devil by exterminating his agents, the witches and wizards, who were then very numerous."

Reginald Scot gives us a very graphic full-length portrait of the devil of popular superstition in the sixteenth century. He says, "Our mothers' mayds terrifie us with the ouglie devil, with hornes on his head, fier in his mouth, a huge tayle in his breach, eies like basons, fangs like a boar, claws like a tiger, a skin like a bear, and a voice roaring like a lion."

A Keltic hairy wood-demon was calledDus, hence our modern "the Deuce." A similar Teutonic monster was namedScrat, hence our "Old Scratch."

In 1633, seventeen Pendle witches were condemned to die; but Charles I. pardoned them. Strange as it may appear, some of them confessed themselves guilty. Such is the fascinating influence of superstition, that imposture itself gradually yields to its power. There is an old Lancashire saying that if a man will only tell a lie a certain number of times he will eventually himself regard it as a truth. One of the seventeen Pendle witches last referred to, Margaret Johnson, in her confession said, "Good Friday is one constant day for a generall meetinge of witches, and that on Good Friday last they had a generall meetinge neere Pendle Water syde." One of the Samlesbury "impostors," a girl named Grace Sowerbutts, stated that she had been induced to join the sisterhood, and she gave an account of the means adopted to acquire the diabolical potency, which, it appears, was not considered satisfactory by the judges, even of that day. Flying over Ribble with their "familiars" was one of the ordinary feats of the gang, according to this youthful witch. Perhaps Grace's face wanted the orthodox number of wrinkles to gain her credence in an affair of so much mystery and importance at that period.

A remarkable instance of this species of delusion occurred at Salem, in New England, in 1682. During the excitement which prevailed in Massachusetts at this time, about twenty persons were put to death for witchcraft. One woman confessed that she had ridden from Andover to a witch meeting on a broomstick. She added that the stick broke, and that the lameness under which she at the time suffered resulted from the accident. Her daughter and grand-daughter confirmed her evidence, and declared they all signed Satan's book together. Others confessed to equally strange delusions. And yet, it appears the inhabitants of Rhode Island formed an exception to the rule, for they declared "there were no witches on earth, nor devils,—except the New England ministers, and such as they!"

Hallam notices a parallel case of delusion recorded in the "Memoirs of Du Clercq," which happened at Arras, in 1459. He says:—

"A few obscure persons were accused of 'vauderie, or witchcraft.' After their condemnation, which was founded on confessions obtained by torture, and afterwards retracted, an epidemical contagion of superstitious dread was diffused all around. Numbers were arrested, burned alive, by order of a tribunal instituted for the detection of this offence, or detained in prison; so that no person in Arras thought himself safe. It was believed that many were accused for the sakeof their possessions, which were confiscated to the use of the church. At length the Duke of Burgundy interfered, and put a stop to the persecutions."

That the fraudulent element most probably entered largely into the motives of witch prosecutions is attested by some instances in connection with the Lancashire trials. Mr. Crossley, in the republication of "Potts's Discovery of Witches," by the Chetham Society, says "the main interest in reviewing this miserable band of victims will be felt to centre in Alice Nutter. Wealthy, well-conducted, well-connected, and placed probably on an equality with most of the neighbouring families, and the magistrates before whom she was committed, she deserves to be distinguished from the companions with whom she suffered, and to attract an attention which has never yet been directed to her. That James Dervice, on whose evidence she was convicted, was instructed to accuse her by her own nearest relatives, and that the magistrate, Roger Nowell, entered as a confederate into the conspiracy against her on account of a long-disputed boundary, are allegations which tradition has preserved, but the truth or falsehood of which, at this distance of time, it is scarcely possible satisfactorily to examine. Her mansion, Rough Lee, is still standing, a very substantial and rather fine specimen of the houses of the inferior gentry,temp.James I., but now divided into cottages."

It was likewise suspected by the magistrates that a seminary priest, named Thompson,aliasSouthworth, had instigated the girl Sowerbutts to make the charges in the Samlesbury case previously referred to.

Some excuse for the popular frenzy on the subject may be found in the fact that not only did the king and the highest legal authorities in the land recognise the crimes of sorcery and witchcraft, but dignitaries of the church, like Bishop Jewel, in Elizabeth's reign, complained of the great increase in the number of those offenders. Such men as Sir Thomas Brown, indeed, went so far as to stigmatise the sceptical on the subject as guilty of atheism.

Sir Kenelm Digby seems to have doubted. Nevertheless, in his "Observations on the Religio Medici," after expressing his doubts, he adds:—"Neither do I deny there are witches; I only reserve my assent till I meet with stronger motives to carry it." Sir Kenelm, however, notwithstanding his scepticism about witchcraft, could swallow tolerably large doses of the marvellous. In a letter to J. Winthorp, jun., governor of New England, he says:—

"For all sorts of agues, I have of late tried the following magneticalexperiment with infallible success. Pare the patient's nails when the fit is coming on, and put the parings into a little bag of fine linen or sarsanet, and tie that about a live eel's neck in a tub of water. The eel will die and the patient will recover. And if a dog or hog eat that eel they will also die."

He adds, "I have known one that cured all deliriums and frenzies whatsoever, and at once taking, with an elixer made of dew, nothing but dew purified and nipped up in a glass and digested 15 months till all of it has become a grey powder, not one drop of humidity remaining. This I know to be true, and that first it was as black as ink, then green, then grey, and at 22 months' end it was as white and lustrous as any oriental pearl. But it cured manias at fifteen months' end."

The sapient James I., of England, before he left his northern kingdom, was so profoundly agitated on hearing the rumour that one Agnes Sampson and two hundred other Scotch witches "had sailed in sieves from Leith to North Berwick church to hold a banquet with the devil," that he ordered the wretched woman to be put to the torture in his presence, and appeared to feel pleasure in questioning her during her suffering. It was afterwards affirmed that Agnes and her two hundred weird sisters "had baptised and drowned a black cat, thereby raising a dreadful storm," which had nearly proved fatal to a ship that carried the superstitious monarch. The poor woman, though she protested her innocence to the last, perished at the stake, supplicating in vain for mercy from the king and her Christian fellow-subjects. Strange to say, the second batch of witches condemned at Lancaster in 1633, but pardoned by Charles I., were accused of similarly interfering with the weather during a royal cruise. A letter in the State Paper Office, written May 16, 1634, by Sir William Pelham to Lord Conway, contains the following:—

"The greatest news from the country is of a huge pack of witches which are lately discovered in Lancashire, whereof 'tis said 19 are condemned, and that there are at least 60 already discovered, and yet daily there are more revealed: there are divers of them of good ability, and they have done much harm. I hear it is suspected that they had a hand in raising the great storm, wherein his Majesty [Charles I.] was in so great danger at sea in Scotland."

The writer of the article "Hertfordshire," in "Knight's Cyclopædia," has the following singular reference to the belief in witchcraft in that part of England, about the middle of last century:—

"There has been no public event since (temp.Charles I.) of any moment connected with the county; but a circumstance which occurred in April of the year 1751, deserves notice as marking the extent of popular ignorance and barbarity at that period. A publican near Tring being troubled with fits, conceived that he was bewitched by an old woman named Osborne. Notice was given by the crier that two witches were to be tried by ducking; and in consequence a vast mob assembled at the time appointed. The old woman and her husband, who had been in Tring workhouse, were removed into the church for safety; but the mob obtained possession of the old man and the old woman, whom they then dragged two miles to a muddy stream, ducked them and otherwise so maltreated them that the woman died on the spot, and the man with difficulty recovered. Thomas Colley, one of the perpetrators, was executed on the spot; but so strong was the infatuation of the populace, that it was thought necessary to have a guard of more than 100 troopers to escort the cavalcade to the place of execution."

Yes, the ignorance and infatuation had ceased to be "respectable," which fact, doubtless, has a marvellous influence on our mental and moral optics, when contemplating many other historical delusions, as well as those connected with supposed witches and their malevolent doings.

A singular instance of combined delusion and imposture with respect to witchcraft, is related in Ralph Gardiner's "malicious invective against the government of Newcastle-on-Tyne," entitled "England's Grievance Discovered in Relation to the Coal-Trade," and published in 1655. It appears that about five or six years previously, the magistrates of the borough had sent two of their sergeants into Scotland, "to agree with a Scotchman, who pretended knowledge to find out Witches by pricking them with pins, to come to Newcastle, where he should try such who should be brought to him, and to have twenty shillings a peece for all he could condemn as witches, and free passage thither and back again." Many poor women were subjected to much indignity by this fellow, who caused them to be stripped partially naked, when he inserted pins into various parts of their flesh, to find a place from which no blood would issue, as he pretended. On one occasion, however, he was detected and compelled to acknowledge that a respectable woman, whom he had grossly treated and condemned, was "not a child of the Devil," as he had previously insisted. It appears that this worthy afterwards visited other parts of Northumberland, "to try women there, where he gotsome three pound a peece." The author adds, "it was conceived if he had staid he would have made most of the women in the North Witches for mony." He gives the names of fifteen poor wretches who were hanged at Newcastle at this impostor's instigation, and says, "These poor souls never confessed anything, but pleaded innocence: And one of them by name Margaret Brown beseeched God that some remarkable sign might be seen at the time of their execution, to evidence their innocence, and as soon as ever she was turned off the ladder,her blood gushed out upon the people to the admiration of the beholders!" The said witchfinder at length met with the fate he so richly merited. He was, in the words of the indignant author, "laid hold on in Scotland, cast into prison, indicted, arraigned, and condemned for such like villainie exercised in Scotland. And upon the gallows he confessed he had been the death of about two hundred and twenty women in England and Scotland for the gain of twenty shillings a peece, and beseeched forgiveness. And was executed." Singularly enough, our author himself met with a similar untimely fate, but for a very different crime, as appears from the following MS. note, in the copy of Gardiner's work before the present writer, purporting to be extracted from a "MS. Life of Barnes, p. 420":—"Upon some methods agreed on for reformation of Manners in the Town according to that clause in the charter which empowers them to make By-laws, there was one Gardiner writ a malicious Invective against the Government of Newcastle, but he got his Reward, being afterwards at York hanged for Coyning."

The celebrated "witchfinder," Hopkins, was equally unfortunate with his Scotch compeer. Some individuals, with more acumen than the superstitious masses, took it into their heads to experiment upon Hopkins himself. Accordingly they seized him, tied his thumbs and toes together, after his own fashion, when operating on others. On placing him on the water he swam as buoyantly as his victims. "This," says one writer, "cleared the country of him, and it was a great pity that they did not think of the experiment sooner." Hopkins's method of discovering witches is, at least, as old as the days of Pliny the elder.

In the "Covntrey Ivstice," by "Michael Dalton, Lincoln's Inn, Gent," published in 1618, are some curious illustrations of the state of the law with regard to witchcraft, at the period. The author says:—

"Now against these witches the Iustices of peace may not alwaies expect direct euidence, seeing all their works are the works of darknesse,and no witnesses present with them to accuse them: And therefore for their better discouerie, I thought good here to insert certaine obseruations out of the booke of discouery of the Witches that were arraigned at Lancaster,Ann. Dom.1612, before SirIames Altham, and SirEdw. BromelyIudges of Assise there.

"1. They haue ordinarily a familiar, or spirit, which appeareth to them.

"2. Their said familiar hath some bigg or place vpon their body, where he sucketh them.

"3. They haue often pictures of clay, or waxe (like a man, &c.) found in their house.

"4. If the dead body bleed, vpon the Witches touching it.

"5. The testimony of the person hurt, vpon his death.

"6. The examination and confession of the children or servants of the Witch.

"7. Their owne voluntary confession, which exceeds all other euidence."

Bodin, a French writer, in his "Demonomanie des Sorciers," published in 1587, says, "On half-proof or strong presumption, the judge may proceed to torture." The judge might, moreover, in his opinion, lie with impunity, and promise a suspected person a pardon on confession, without the intention of carrying it into effect. But this is not much from a man, who could cite with approval and even relish, the decision of a magistrate that a person "who had eaten flesh on a Friday should be burned alive unless he repented, and if he repented, yet he was hanged out of compassion." Yet this same Bodin was a Protestant, forsooth!

Walburgar, writing in the following century, is not much less tolerant of judicial mendacity. He does not, indeed, recommend direct lying, but equivocation. The judge may inform the suspected that her confession will induce in him favourable action, that a new house should be built for her, and that it will tend to the saving of her life. And yet, after the poor deluded creature has committed herself, he regards it as perfectly just and honourable that the sapient administrator of the law should inform her that his action in burning her will be favourable to the commonwealth, that her new house will be of wood at the stake, and that the destruction of her body will tend to the salvation of her soul!

In Würtzburg, as recently as 1749, a girl was burnt alive as a legally condemned practitioner of witchcraft. Witches were burned in Scotland till 1772, and in France in 1718. The severe acts passedin the reign of James I., condemnatory of witchcraft, were not repealed till the 9th George II. (1736).

There appears to have been three kinds of witches—the black, the white, and the grey. The black had power only for evil, the white for good, and the grey possessed authority both in matters good and evil. These seem to have originally been merely personifications of the black, white, and grey-coloured clouds of the Aryan elemental conflicts. Perhaps Shakspere formed his principal group of three from the circumstance that the destiny of his hero was influenced to some extent by one of each class. Many altars, of the period of the Roman occupation, dedicated to thedeæ matres, or mother goddesses, have been found in various parts of the north of England. It is believed they were introduced by Teutonic auxiliaries. These deities have undergone much change in their transference to more modern superstitions; but some of their attributes may be detected without difficulty. Mr. Thomas Wright, in "Celt, Roman, and Saxon," says:

"They are sometimes regarded as the three Fates—thenorniof the north, thewæleyrianof the Anglo-Saxons (the weird sisters, transformed in Shakspere into three witches) disposing of the fates of individuals, and dealing out life and death. But they are also found distributing rewards and punishments, giving wealth and property, and conferring fruitfulness. They are the three fairies who are often introduced in the fairy legends of a later period, with these same characteristics."

I have said that many of the "theatrical properties" of mediæval witchcraft may be traced to an Aryan origin. The chief of these, the cauldron, is familiar to all from Shakspere's admirable pictures in Macbeth. I have previously referred to the fact that the phrase "brewing a storm" is derived from this source. Cauldron stories are common amongst ancient tribes. Guy of Warwick's "porridge pot" is of this class. Kelly says, speaking of the "genii of the lightning, the beings who brewed and lightned in the storm,"—

"If the Bhrigus or their associates were brewers they must needs have had brewing utensils; at the very least they must have had a brewing pot; and therefore we are justified in referring back the origin of the witches' cauldron to the remotest antiquity. Perhaps the oldest example of such a vessel of which there is any distinct record is the cauldron which Thor carried off from the giant Hymir, to brew drink for the gods at Oegir's harvest feast. It was five miles deep, and modern expounders of the Eddic myths are of opinion that it was the vaulted sky."

It must be borne in mind that the "heavenly liquor," so much vaunted, was neither more nor less than rain water, "brewed" by the action of the storm deities and their assistants, whether dignified by the name of soma, amrita, or nectar.

Robert Hunt, in his "Superstitions of Old Cornwall," describes themodus operandiof a celebrated witch at Fraddam, when engaged in brewing a liquor of "wondrous potency," which clearly exhibits the "elemental strife" that lies at the base of these superstitions. She "collected with the utmost care all the deadly things she could obtain, with which to brew her famous drink. In the darkest night, in the midst of the wildest storms, amidst the flashings of lightnings and the bellowings of the thunder, the witch was seen riding on her black ram-cat over the moors and mountains in search of her poisons. At length all was complete—the horse-drink was boiled, the hell-broth was brewed. It was in March, about the time of the equinox; the night was dark, and the King of Storms was abroad."

Olaus Magnus speaks of the storm-raising powers and propensities of the Scandinavian witches as amongst their most remarkable attributes.

The sieve, amongst all nations of the Aryan stock, and even of some others, has been regarded as a mythical implement of this class. Witches used them as boats, notwithstanding their inability to float on water. The supernatural, of course, easily overcame so trifling a physical difficulty. The premier weird woman in Shakspere's group, referring to the scoff she had received from a sailor's wife, says:—

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