INTRODUCTION LIFE OF GOWER.

To write anything like a biography of Gower, with the materials that exist, is an impossibility. Almost the only authentic records of him, apart from his writings, are his marriage-licence, his will, and his tomb in St. Saviour’s Church; and it was this last which furnished most of the material out of which the early accounts of the poet were composed. A succession of writers from Leland down to Todd contribute hardly anything except guesswork, and this is copied by each from his predecessors with little or no pretence of criticism. Some of them, as Berthelette and Stow, describe from their own observation the tomb with its effigy and inscriptions, as it actually was in their time, and these descriptions supply us with positive information of some value, but the rest is almost entirely worthless.

Gower’s will was printed in Gough’s Sepulchral Monuments (1796), and in 1828 Sir Harris Nicolas, roused by the uncritical spirit of Todd, published the article in the Retrospective Review1 which has ever since been regarded as the one source of authentic information on the subject. It does not appear that Nicolas undertook any very extensive searching of records, indeed he seems to have practically confined his attention to the British Museum; for wherever he cites the Close Rolls or other documents now in the Record Office, it is either from the abstract of the Close Rolls given in MS. Harl. 1176 or as communicated to him by some other person: but he was able to produce several more or less interesting documents connected either with the poet or with somebody who bore the same name and belonged to the same family, and he placed the discussion for the first time upon a sound critical basis. Pauli simply recapitulated the results arrived at by Nicolas with some slight elucidations from the Close Rolls of 6 Ric. II on a matter which had been already mentioned by Nicolas on the authority of Mr. Petrie. As the result of a further examination of the Close Rolls and other records I am able to place some of the transactions referred to in a clearer light, while at the same time I find myself obliged to cast serious doubt on the theory that all the documents in question relate to the poet. In short, the conclusions at which I arrive, so far as regards the records, are mostly of a negative character.

It may be taken as proved that the family to which John Gower the poet belonged was of Kent. Caxton indeed says of him that he was born in Wales, but this remark was probably suggested by the name of the ‘land of Gower’ in Wales, and is as little to be trusted as the further statement that his birth was in the reign of Richard II. There was a natural tendency in the sixteenth century to connect him with the well-known Gowers of Stitenham in Yorkshire, whence the present noble family of Gower derives its origin, and Leland says definitely that the poet was of Stitenham2. It is probable, however, that Leland had no very certain information; for when we examine his autograph manuscript, we find that he first wrote, following Caxton, ‘ex Cambria, ut ego accepi, originem duxit,’ and afterwards altered this to ‘ex Stitenhamo, villa Eboracensis prouinciae, originem ducens.’ It is probable that the credit of connexion with the poet had been claimed by the Yorkshire family, whose ‘proud tradition,’ as Todd says, ‘has been and still is that he was of Stitenham,’ and we find reason to think that they had identified him with a certain distinguished lawyer of their house. This family tradition appears in Leland’s Itinerarium, vi. 13, ‘The house of Gower the poete sumtyme chief iuge of the commune place’ (i.e. Common Pleas) ‘yet remaineth at Stitenham yn Yorkshire, and diuerse of them syns have been knights.’ He adds that there are Gowers also in Richmondshire and Worcestershire (‘Wicestreshire,’ MS.). The statement that this supposed judge was identical with the poet is afterwards withdrawn; for on a later page Leland inserts a note, ‘Mr. Ferrares told me that Gower the iuge could not be the man that write the booke yn Englisch, for he said that Gower the iuge was about Edward the secundes tyme.’3

All this seems to suggest that Leland had no very trustworthy evidence on the matter. He continued to assert, however, as we have seen, that the poet derived his origin from Stitenham, and to this he adds that he was brought up and practised as a lawyer, ‘Coluit forum et patrias leges lucri causa4.’ It has not been noticed that the author’s manuscript has here in the margin what is probably a reference to authority for this statement: we find there a note in a contemporary hand, ‘Goverus seruiens ad legem 30 Ed. 3.’ From this it is probable that Leland is relying on the Year-book of 30 Ed. III, where we find the name Gower, apparently as that of a serjeant-at-law who took part in the proceedings. It is not likely that Leland had any good reasons for identifying this Gower, who was in a fairly high position at the bar in the year 1356, with John Gower the poet, who died in 14085.

Leland’s statements were copied by Bale and so became public property. They did not, however, long pass unchallenged. Thynne in his Animadversions acutely criticises the suggestion of Yorkshire origin, on the ground of the difference of arms:—‘Bale hath much mistaken it, as he hath done infinite things in that book, being for the most part the collections of Leland. For in truth the arms of Sir John Gower being argent, on a cheveron azure three leopards’ heads or, do prove that he came of a contrary house to the Gowers of Stytenham in Yorkshire, who bare barruly of argent and gules, a cross paty flory sable. Which difference of arms seemeth a difference of families, unless you can prove that being of one family they altered their arms upon some just occasion.’ The arms to which Thynne refers as those of Gower the poet are those which are to be seen upon his tomb6; and the argument is undoubtedly sound. Thynne proceeds to criticise Speght’s statement that Chaucer and Gower were both lawyers of the Inner Temple: ‘You say, It seemeth that these learned men were of the Inner Temple, for that many years since Master Buckley did see a record in the same house, where Geffrey Chaucer was fined two shillings for beating a Franciscan Friar in Fleet Street. This is a hard collection to prove Gower of the Inner Temple, although he studied the law, for thus you frame your argument: Mr. Buckley found a record in the Temple that Chaucer was fined for beating the friar; ergo Gower and Chaucer were of the Temple.’

A ‘hard collection’ it may be, but no harder than many others that have been made by biographers, and Leland’s ‘vir equestris ordinis7’ must certainly go the way of his other statements, being sufficiently refuted, as Stow remarks, by the ‘Armiger’ of Gower’s epitaph. Leland in calling him a knight was probably misled by the gilt collar of SS upon his recumbent effigy, and Fuller afterwards, on the strength of the same decoration, fancifully revives the old theory that he was a judge, and is copied of course by succeeding writers8. On the whole it may be doubted whether there is anything but guesswork in the statements made by Leland about our author, except so far as they are derived from his writings or from his tomb.

That John Gower the poet was of a Kentish family is proved by definite and positive evidence. The presumption raised by the fact that his English writings certainly have some traces of the Kentish dialect, is confirmed, first by the identity of the arms upon his tomb with those of Sir Robert Gower, who had a tomb in Brabourne Church in Kent, and with reference to whom Weever, writing in 1631, says, ‘From this family John Gower the poet was descended9,’ secondly, by the fact that in the year 1382 a manor which we know to have been eventually in the possession of the poet was granted to John Gower, who is expressly called ‘Esquier de Kent,’ and thirdly, by the names of the executors of the poet’s will, who are of Kentish families. It may be added that several other persons of the name of Gower are mentioned in the records of the time in connexion with the county of Kent. Referring only to cases in which the Christian name also is the same as that of the poet, we may note a John Gower among those complained of by the Earl of Arundel in 1377, as having broken his closes at High Rothing and elsewhere, fished in his fishery and assaulted his servants10; John Gower mentioned in connexion with the parishes of Throwley and Stalesfield, Kent, in 1381-211; John Gower who was killed by Elias Taillour, apparently in 138512; John Gower who was appointed with others in 1386 to receive and distribute the stores at Dover Castle13; none of whom can reasonably be identified with the poet. Therefore it cannot be truly said, as it is said by Pauli, that the surname Gower, or even the combination John Gower, is a very uncommon one in the records of the county of Kent14.

Before proceeding further, it may be well to set forth in order certain business transactions recorded in the reign of Edward III, in which a certain John Gower was concerned, who is identified by Nicolas with the poet15.

They are as follows:—

39 Ed. III (1365). An inquiry whether it will be to the prejudice of the king to put John Gower in possession of half the manor of Aldyngton in Kent, acquired by him without licence of the king from William de Septvans, and if so, ‘ad quod damnum.’ This half of Aldyngton is held of the king by the service of paying fourteen shillings a year to the Warden of Rochester Castle on St. Andrew’s day16.

Under date Feb. 15 of the same year it was reported that this would not be to the prejudice of the king, and accordingly on March 9 John Gower pays 53 shillings, which appears to be the annual value of the property, and is pardoned for the offence committed by acquiring it without licence17.

39 Ed. III (June 23). William Sepvanus, son of William Sepvanus knight, grants to John Gower ten pounds rent from the manor of Wygebergh (Wigborough) in Essex and from other lands held by him in the county of Essex18.

By another deed, acknowledged in Chancery on June 25 of the same year, the same William Sepvanus makes over to John Gower all his claims upon the manor of Aldyngton, and also a rent of 14s. 6d., with one cock, thirteen hens and 140 eggs from Maplecomb19.

42 Ed. III (1368). Thomas Syward, pewterer and citizen of London, and Joanna his wife, daughter of Sir Robert Gower, grant to John Gower and his heirs the manor of Kentwell. Dated at Melford, Wednesday before the Nativity of St. John Baptist20.

43 Ed. III. Fine between John Gower on the one hand, and John Spenythorn with Joan his wife on the other, by which they give up all right to the Manor of Kentwell, Suffolk, except £10 rent, John Gower paying 200 marks21.

This was confirmed in the king’s court, 3 Ric. II.

By documents of previous date22 it may be shown that the manor of Kentwell had been held by Sir Rob. Gower, doubtless the same who is buried in Brabourne Church, who died apparently in 1349; that it was ultimately divided, with other property, between his heirs, two daughters named Katherine and Joanna, of whom one, Katherine, died in 1366. Her moiety was then combined with the other in the possession of her sister Joanna, ‘23 years old and upwards,’ then married to William Neve of Wetyng, but apparently soon afterwards to Thomas Syward. As to the transaction between John Gower and John Spenythorn with Joanna his wife, we must be content to remain rather in the dark. John Gower had in the year before acquired Kentwell in full possession for himself and his heirs, and he must in the mean time have alienated it, and now apparently acquired it again. It is hardly likely that the Joan who is here mentioned is the same as Joan daughter of Sir Robert Gower, who was married successively to William Neve and Thomas Syward. On the other hand it must be regarded as probable that the John Gower of this document is identical with the John Gower who acquired Kentwell from Thomas Syward and his wife in 1368. The confirmation in the king’s court, 3 Ric. II, was perhaps by way of verifying the title before the grant of Kentwell by Sir J. Cobham to Sir T. Clopton, 4 Ric. II.

47 Ed. III (1373). John Gower grants his manor of Kentwell in Suffolk to Sir John Cobham and his heirs; a deed executed at Otford in Kent, Thurs. Sept. 2923.

48 Ed. III (1374). Payment of 12 marks by Sir J. Cobham on acquisition of Kentwell and half of Aldyngton from John Gower24.

By this last document it seems pretty certain that the John Gower from whom Sir J. Cobham received Kentwell was the same person as the John Gower who acquired Aldyngton from William Septvans; and he is proved to be a relation of the poet, as well as of Sir Robert Gower, by the fact that the arms on the seal of John Gower, attached to the deed by which Kentwell was alienated, are apparently the same as those which were placed upon Sir Rob. Gower’s tomb at Brabourne, and those which we see on the poet’s tomb in Southwark25. These persons, then, belonged to the same family, so far as we can judge; but evidently it is not proved merely by this fact that the John Gower mentioned in the above document was identical with the poet. We have seen already that the name was not uncommon in Kent, and there are some further considerations which may lead us to hesitate before we identify John Gower the poet with the John Gower who acquired land from William Septvans. This latter transaction in fact had another side, to which attention has not hitherto been called, though Sir H. Nicolas must have been to some extent aware of it, since he has given a reference to the Rolls of Parliament, where the affair is recorded.

It must be noted then in connexion with the deeds of 39 Ed. III, by which John Gower acquired Aldyngton from William Septvans, son of Sir William Septvans, that in the next year, 40 Ed. III, there is record of a commission issued to Sir J. Cobham and others to inquire into the circumstances of this alienation, it having been alleged that William Septvans was not yet of age, and that he had obtained release of his father’s property from the king’s hands by fraudulent misrepresentation. The commission, having sat at Canterbury on the Tuesday before St. George’s day, 1366, reported that this was so, that William Septvans was in fact under twenty years old, and would not attain the age of twenty till the feast of St. Augustine the Doctor next to come (i.e. Aug. 28); that the alienations to John Gower and others had been improperly made by means of a fraudulent proof of age, and that his property ought to be reseized into the king’s hands till he was of age. Moreover the report stated that John Gower had given 24 marks only for property worth £12 a year, with a wood of the value of £100, that after his enfeoffment the said John Gower was in the company of William Septvans at Canterbury and elsewhere, until Sept. 29, inducing him to part with land and other property to various persons26.

The property remained in the king’s hands till the year 1369, when an order was issued to the escheator of the county of Essex to put William Septvans in possession of his father’s lands, which had been confiscated to the Crown, ‘since two years and more have elapsed from the festival of St. Augustine, when he was twenty years old’ (Westm. 21 Feb.)27. Presumably John Gower then entered into possession of the property which he had irregularly acquired in 1365, and possibly with this may be connected a payment by John Gower of £20 at Michaelmas in the year 1368 to Richard de Ravensere28, who seems to have been keeper of the hanaper in Chancery.

It is impossible without further proof to assume that the villainous misleader of youth who is described to us in the report of the above commission, as encouraging a young man to defraud the Crown by means of perjury, in order that he may purchase his lands from him at a nominal price, can be identical with the grave moralist of the Speculum Hominis and the Vox Clamantis. Gower humbly confesses that he has been a great sinner, but he does not speak in the tone of a converted libertine: we cannot reconcile our idea of him with the proceedings of the disreputable character who for his own ends encouraged the young William Septvans in his dishonesty and extravagance. The two men apparently bore the same arms, and therefore they belonged to the same family, but beyond this we cannot go. It may be observed moreover that the picture suggested to Prof. Morley by the deed of 1373, executed at Otford, of the poet’s residence in the pleasant valley of the Darent, which he describes at some length29, must in any case be dismissed as baseless. Otford was a manor held by Sir John Cobham30, and whether the John Gower of this deed be the poet or no, it is pretty clear that the deed in question was executed there principally for this reason, and not because it was the residence of John Gower.

Dismissing all the above records as of doubtful relevancy to our subject31, we proceed to take note of some which seem actually to refer to the poet. Of these none are earlier than the reign of Richard II. They are as follows:

1 Ric. II. (May, 1378). A record that Geoffrey Chaucer has given general power of attorney to John Gower and Richard Forester, to be used during his absence abroad by licence of the king.32 Considering that Chaucer and Gower are known to have been personally acquainted with one another, we may fairly suppose that this appointment relates to John Gower the poet.33

6 Ric. II (Aug. 1382). Grant of the manors of Feltwell in Norfolk and Multon in Suffolk to John Gower, Esquire, of Kent, and to his heirs, by Guy de Rouclyf, clerk (Aug. 1), and release of warranty on the above (Aug. 3)34.

6 Ric. II (Aug. 1382). Grant of the manors of Feltwell and Multon by John Gower to Thomas Blakelake, parson of St. Nicholas, Feltwell, and others, for his life, at a rent of £40, to be paid quarterly in the Abbey Church of Westminster35. This grant was repeated 7 Ric. II (Feb. 1384)36.

The mention of Multon in the will of John Gower the poet makes it practically certain that the above documents have to do with him.

17 Ric. II (1393). Henry of Lancaster presented John Gower, Esquire, with a collar. This was mentioned by Nicolas as communicated to him by Mr. G. F. Beltz from a record in the Duchy of Lancaster Office. No further reference was given, and I have had some difficulty in finding the record. It is, however, among the accounts of the wardrobe of Henry of Lancaster for the year mentioned37, and though not dated, it probably belongs to some time in the autumn of 1393, the neighbouring documents in the same bundle being dated October or November. It proves to be in fact an order, directed no doubt to William Loveney, clerk of the Wardrobe to the earl of Derby, for delivery of 26s. 8d. to one Richard Dancaster, for a collar, on account of another collar given by the earl of Derby to ‘an Esquire John Gower’38. So elsewhere in the household accounts of the earl of Derby we find a charge of 56s. 8d. for a silver collar for John Payne, butler, ‘because my lord had given his collar to another esquire beyond sea’39. This particular collar given to John Gower was a comparatively cheap one, worth apparently only 26s. 8d., while the silver collar to be given to John Payne is valued at 56s. 8d., and a gold collar of SS for Henry himself costs no less than £26 8s. 11d. The fact that Gower wears a collar of SS on his tomb makes it probable enough that he is the esquire mentioned in this document. It will afterwards be seen that we cannot base any argument upon the fact that the collar upon the effigy is now gilt, and apparently was so also in Leland’s time.

25 Jan. 1397-8. A licence from the bishop of Winchester for solemnizing the marriage between John Gower and Agnes Groundolf, both parishioners of St. Mary Magdalene, Southwark, without further publication of banns and in a place outside their parish church, that is to say, in the oratory of the said John Gower, within his lodging in the Priory of Saint Mary Overey in Southwark. Dated at Highclere, 25 Jan. 139740. At this time then Gower was living in the Priory of St. Mary Overey, and no doubt he continued to do so until his death.

Finally, Aug. 15, 1408, the Will of John Gower, which was proved Oct. 24 of the same year41. His death therefore may be presumed to have taken place in October, 1408.

This will has been printed more than once, in Gough’s Sepulchral Monuments, by Todd in his Illustrations of Gower and Chaucer and in the Retrospective Review.

The testator bequeathes his soul to the Creator, and his body to be buried in the church of the Canons of St. Mary Overes, in the place specially appointed for this purpose (‘in loco ad hoc specialiter deputato’). To the Prior of the said church he bequeathes 40s., to the subprior 20s., to each Canon who is a priest 13s. 4d., and to each of the other Canons 6s. 8d., that they may all severally pray for him the more devoutly at his funeral. To the servants of the Priory 2s. or 1s. each according to their position; to the church of St. Mary Magdalene 40s. for lights and ornaments, to the parish priest of that church 10s., ‘vt oret et orari faciat pro me’; to the chief clerk of the same church 3s. and to the sub-clerk 2s. To the following four parish churches of Southwark, viz. St. Margaret’s, St. George’s, St. Olave’s, and St. Mary Magdalene’s near Bermondsey, 13s. 4d. each for ornaments and lights, and to each parish priest or rector in charge of those churches 6s. 8d., ‘vt orent et orari pro me in suis parochiis faciant et procurent.’ To the master of the hospital of St. Thomas in Southwark 40s., to each priest serving there 6s. 8d. for their prayers; to each sister professed in the said hospital 3s. 4d., to each attendant on the sick 20d., and to each sick person in the hospital 12d., and the same to the sisters (where there are sisters), nurses and patients in the hospitals of St. Anthony, Elsingspitell, Bedlem without Bishopsgate, and St. Maryspitell near Westminster; to every house for lepers in the suburbs of London 10s., to be distributed amongst the lepers, for their prayers: to the Prior of Elsingspitell 40s., and to each Canon priest there 6s. 8d.

For the service of the altar in the chapel of St. John the Baptist, ‘in qua corpus meum sepeliendum est,’ two vestments of silk, one of blue and white baudkin and the other of white silk, also a large new missal and a new chalice, all which are to be kept for ever for the service of the said altar. Moreover to the Prior and Convent the testator leaves a large book, ‘sumptibus meis nouiter compositum,’ called Martilogium, on the understanding that the testator shall have a special mention of himself recorded in it every day (‘sic quod in eodem specialem memoriam scriptam secundum eorum promissa cotidie habere debeo,’ not ‘debes,’ as printed).

He leaves to his wife Agnes, £100 of lawful money, also three cups, one ‘cooperculum,’ two salt-cellars and twelve spoons of silver, all the testator’s beds and chests, with the furniture of hall, pantry and kitchen and all their vessels and utensils. One chalice and one vestment are left to the altar of the oratory belonging to his apartments (‘pro altare quod est infra oratorium hospicii mei’). He desires also that his wife Agnes, if she survive him, shall have all rents due for his manors of Southwell in the county of Northampton (?) and of Multoun in the county of Suffolk, as he has more fully determined in certain other writings given under his seal.

The executors of this will are to be as follows:—Agnes his wife, Arnold Savage, knight, Roger, esquire, William Denne, Canon of the king’s chapel, and John Burton, clerk. Dated in the Priory of St. Mary Overes in Southwark, on the feast of the Assumption of the Virgin, Mccccviii.

The will was proved, Oct. 24, 1408, at Lambeth before the Archbishop of Canterbury (because the testator had property in more than one diocese of the province of Canterbury), by Agnes the testator’s wife, and administration of the property was granted to her on Nov. 7 of the same year.

It may be observed with reference to this will that the testator evidently stands already in the position of a considerable benefactor to the Priory of St. Mary Overey, in virtue of which position he has his apartments in the Priory and a place of honour assigned for his tomb in the church. He must also have established by previous arrangement the daily mass and the yearly obituary service which Berthelette speaks of as still celebrated in his time. It is evident that his benefactions were made chiefly in his life-time. There is some slight difficulty as regards the manors which are mentioned in the will. Multon in Suffolk we know already to have been in the poet’s possession; but what is this ‘Southwell’? Certainly not the well-known Southwell in Nottinghamshire, which cannot possibly have been in the possession of a private person, belonging, as it did, to the archiepiscopal see of York. Moreover, though ‘in Comitatu Nott.’ has been hitherto printed as the reading of the will, the manuscript has not this, but either ‘Notth.’ or ‘North.,’ more probably the latter. There were apparently other manors of Southwell or Suthwell in the county of Nottingham, and a manor of Suwell in Northamptonshire, but there seems to be no connexion with the name of Gower in the case of any of these. It is possible, but not very readily to be assumed, that the scribe who made the copy of the will in the register carelessly wrote ‘Southwell in Com. North.’ (or ‘Com. Notth.’) for ‘Feltwell in Com. Norff.,’ the name which is found coupled with Multon in the other records42.

The one remaining record is the tomb in St. Saviour’s church. This originally stood in the chapel of St. John the Baptist, on the north side of the church, but in 1832, the nave and north aisle being in ruins, the monument was removed to the south transept and restored at the expense of Earl Gower. After the restoration of the church this tomb was moved back to the north aisle in October 1894, and was placed on the supposed site of the chapel of St. John the Baptist, where it now stands43.

In the course of nearly five centuries the tomb has undergone many changes, and the present colouring and inscription are not original. What we have now is a canopy of three arches over an altar tomb, on which lies an effigy of the poet, habited in a long dark-coloured gown, with a standing cape and buttoned down to his feet, wearing a gold collar of SS, fastened in front with a device of a chained swan between two portcullises. His head rests on a pile of three folio volumes marked with the names of his three principal works, Vox Clamantis, Speculum Meditantis, Confessio Amantis. He has a rather round face with high cheek-bones, a moustache and a slightly forked beard, hair long and curling upwards44, and round his head a chaplet of four red roses at intervals upon a band45, with the words ‘merci ihs46’ (repeated) in the intervals between the roses: the hands are put together and raised in prayer: at the feet there is a lion or mastiff lying. The upper ledge of the tomb has this inscription, ‘Hic iacet I. Gower Arm. Angl. poeta celeberrimus ac huic sacro edificio benefac. insignis. Vixit temporibus Edw. III et Ric. II et Henr. IV.’ In front of the tomb there are seven arched niches. Against the wall at the end of the recess, above the feet of the figure, a shield is suspended bearing arms, argent, on a chevron azure three leopards’ faces or, crest a talbot (or lion) upon a chapeau. The wall behind the tomb under the canopy is at present blank; the original painting of female figures with scrolls has disappeared and has not been renewed, nor has the inscription ‘Armigeri scutum,’ &c., been replaced.

This tomb has attracted much attention, and descriptions of it exist from early times. Leland’s account may be thus translated: ‘He was honourably buried in London in the church of the Marian canons on the bank of the Thames, and his wife also is buried in the same place, but in a lower tomb. He has here an effigy adorned with a gold chain and a chaplet of ivy interspersed with roses, the first marking him as a knight and the second as a poet. The reason why he established his place of burial here, was, I believe, as follows. A large part of the suburb adjacent to London Bridge was burnt down in the year 121247, in the reign of King John. The monastery of the Marian canons was much damaged in this fire and was not fully restored till the first year of Richard II. At that time Gower, moved by the calamity, partly through his friends, who were numerous and powerful, and partly at his own expense, repaired the church and restored its ornaments, and the Marian canons even now acknowledge the liberality of Gower towards them, though not to such an extent as I declare it to have been. For this reason it was, in my judgement, that he left his body for burial to the canons of this house48.’ Berthelette in the Preface to his edition of the Confessio Amantis, 1532, gives an interesting account of the tomb: ‘John Gower prepared for his bones a resting-place in the monastery of St. Mary Overes, where somewhat after the old fashion he lieth right sumptuously buried, with a garland on his head in token that he in his life days flourished freshly in literature and science. And the same moniment, in remembrance of him erected, is on the North side of the foresaid church, in the chapel of St. John, where he hath of his own foundation a mass daily sung: and moreover he hath an obit yearly done for him within the same church on the Friday after the feast of the blessed pope St. Gregory.

‘Beside on the wall, whereas he lieth, there be painted three virgins with crowns on their heads, one of the which is written Charitie, and she holdeth this device in her hand,

‘The second is written Mercye, which holdeth in her hand this device,

‘The third of them is written Pite, which holdeth in her hand this device following,

‘And thereby hangeth a table, wherein appeareth that who so ever prayeth for the soul of John Gower, he shall, so oft as he so doth, have a thousand and five hundred days of pardon.’

Stow, writing about 1598, says, ‘This church was again newly rebuilt in the reign of Richard II and king Henry IV. John Gower, a learned gentleman and a famous poet, but no knight, as some have mistaken it, was then an especial benefactor to that work, and was there buried in the north side of the said church, in the chapel of St. John, where he founded a chantry. He lieth under a tomb of stone with his image also of stone being over him. The hair of his head brown, long to his shoulders but curling up, collar of esses of gold about his neck; under his head,’ &c.51 The tomb is then further described as by Berthelette, with addition of the epitaph in four Latin hexameters, ‘Armigeri scutum,’ &c. (see p. 367 of this volume).

In the Annals of England (date about 1600) he again describes the tomb, adding to his description of the painting of the three virgins the important note, ‘All which is now washed out and the image defaced by cutting off the nose and striking off the hands52,’ from which it would appear that we cannot depend even upon the features of the effigy which now exists, as original.

The figures of the virgins were repainted in the course of the seventeenth century apparently, for in Hatton’s New View of London (date 1708) they are described as appearing with ‘ducal coronets53.’ In Rawlinson’s Natural History and Antiquities of Surrey (published 1719) the effigy is spoken of as having a ‘scarlet gown,’ the older descriptions, e.g. Stow, giving it as ‘an habit of purple damasked,’ and it is said that there is upon the head ‘a chaplet or diadem of gold about an inch broad, on which are set at equal distances four white quaterfoyles.’54 The writer argues also that the chain should be of silver rather than of gold55. The arms are said to be ‘supported by two angels,’ and ‘underneath is this inscription, “Hic iacet Iohannes Gower Armiger Anglorum poeta celeberrimus ac huic sacro Edificio Benefactor insignis temporibus Edw. III et Ric. II. Armigeri scutum,”’ &c. The following remark is added: ‘Our author Mr. John Aubrey gives us an inscription which he says he saw on a limb of this monument, something different from the foregoing, and therefore not unworthy a place here, viz.

Later, in 1765, Tyler describes the gown as purple and the arms as pendent by the dexter corner. The figures of women have ducal coronets and scrolls of gold, and below them is the epitaph ‘Armigeri scutum.’ Under the statue the inscription ‘Hic iacet,’ &c.56 The monument, as here described, is engraved in Gough’s Sepulchral Monuments (date 1796), where there is a full description of it57. Blore, under whose direction the position of the monument was changed, says in 1826 that the inscription on the ledge of the tomb ‘Hic iacet,’ &c., was then entirely gone.

Dollman says that there was a fire which injured the nave of the church in the reign of Richard II, and that the windows of the nave and aisles, which were finally removed in 1833, were of the time of Richard II and Henry IV58. It is certain, however, that the church remained long in an unfinished state during the period between 1207 (or 1212), the date of the early fire, and the latter part of the fourteenth century. Dollman observes that the remains which may have been contained in the tomb ‘disappeared when the tomb was removed from the north aisle in 1832.’59 From what has been said it will be perceived that the tomb has undergone a series of alterations and renovations which have to some extent at least destroyed its original character.

A word must be said finally about Prof. Morley’s theory that Gower was in holy orders and held the living of Great Braxted in Essex from 1390-7. This is founded on the fact that the parson of Great Braxted for the period named was one John Gower, as Professor Morley learns from Newcourt’s Repertorium Parochiale60. The original record referred to by Newcourt is to be found in the Registry of the diocese of London61, and is to the effect that on February 23, 1390-1, the bishop of London admitted and instituted John Gower, clerk, to the parochial church of Great Braksted, vacant by the resignation of John Broun, the late rector, the said John Gower having been duly presented by the king, who at this time was patron of the living, the heir of the late earl of Pembroke being under his wardship. Then later, under date March 31, 1397, there is record of a new institution to the benefice, which is vacant by the resignation of John Gower, late rector62.

Professor Morley thought that the expression ‘John Gower, clerk’ might indicate that the person referred to was in minor orders only, some of the rectors inducted being called ‘priest’ (while others have no title at all). He conceived that this John Gower held the rectory for six or seven years without being admitted to priest’s orders at all, and that he then resigned on his marriage63, and he found confirmation of the theory that this was Gower the poet from the fact that Great Braxted is near to Wigborough, where, as we have seen, a person of this name, supposed by Professor Morley to be the poet, had some claim to rent. We have already seen reason to think that the John Gower who had a rent of £10 from Wigborough was not the poet, and in any case it is evident that the fact could have nothing to do with a presentation by the king five and twenty years afterwards to the rectory of Great Braxted. As to resignation with a view to marriage, it is very unlikely, if not altogether out of the question, that a clergyman who had held an important rectory for six or seven years should not only have been permitted to marry, but should have had his marriage celebrated in the Priory of St. Mary Overy and with the particular sanction of the bishop of Winchester. Add to this the fact that John Gower the poet was undoubtedly ‘Esquire,’ being called so not only on his tomb but also in the documents of 1382 and 1393, the latter belonging to the period when, according to this theory, he was holding the living of Great Braxted. On the whole, the ‘minor orders’ theory must be dismissed as entirely baseless, and the John Gower who was rector of Great Braxted must be set down as another of the rather numerous persons of this name who were to be found in Kent and Essex at this time. There is nothing in Gower’s writings to suggest the idea that he was an ecclesiastic. He distinctly calls himself a layman in the Mirour de l’Omme, and the expression ‘borel clerk’ in the Prologue of the Confessio Amantis must be taken to mean the same thing. The language which in the Vox Clamantis he uses about rectors who fail to perform the duties of their office, makes it almost inconceivable that he should himself have held a rectory without qualifying himself for the performance of the service of the Church even by taking priest’s orders. Evidently Professor Morley’s idea of the poet as an Essex rector must go the way of his previous attempt to establish him as a country gentleman at Otford. It is probable that he passed a considerable part of his literary life in those lodgings within the Priory of St. Mary Overey which are mentioned in his marriage licence and in his will64.

To the information which we derive from records must be added that which is to be drawn from the poet’s own writings. From the Speculum Meditantis we learn that in early life he composed love poems, which he calls ‘fols ditz d’ amour’ (27340), and from two other passages (ll. 8794 and 17649) we may perhaps assume that he was already married at the time when this work was composed. In the former, speaking of those who tell tales to husbands about their wives’ misconduct, he says in effect, ‘I for my part declare (‘Je di pour moi’) that I wish to hear no such tales of my wife:’ in the second he speaks of those wives who dislike servants and other persons simply because their husbands like them, and he adds, ‘I do not say that mine does so’ (‘Ne di pas q’ensi fait la moie’). If the inference be correct, his union with Agnes Groundolf in his old age was a second marriage. We cannot come to any definite conclusion from this poem about any profession or occupation which he may have had besides literature. The statement of Leland that he practised as a lawyer seems rather improbable, in view of the way in which he here speaks of lawyers and their profession. Of all the secular estates that of the law seems to him to be the worst (24085 ff.), and he condemns both advocates and judges in a more unqualified manner than the members of any other calling. Especially the suggestion of a special tax to be levied on lawyers’ gains (24337 ff.) is one that could hardly have come from one who was himself a lawyer65.

Again the way in which he speaks of physicians (24301, 25621 ff.) seems almost equally to exclude him from the profession of medicine.

Of all the various ranks of society which he reviews, that of which he speaks with most respect is the estate of Merchants. He takes pains to point out, both in this poem and in the Vox Clamantis, the utility of their occupation, and the justice of their claim to reasonably large profits on successful ventures in consideration of the risks they run (Mirour, 25177 ff.; Vox Clam. Lib. v. Cap. xi, Heading). He makes a special apology to the honest members of the class for exposing the abuses to which the occupation is liable, pleading that to blame the bad is in effect to praise the good (25213 ff., 25975 ff.), and he is more careful here than elsewhere to point out the fact that honest members of the class exist. He speaks of ‘our City,’ and has strong feelings about the interests of the city of London, and about the proceedings of a certain bad citizen who stirs up strife and aims at giving privileges in trade to strangers (Mirour, 26380 ff.; cp. Vox Clamantis, v. 835 ff.): moreover, the jealousy of Lombards which he expresses has every appearance of being a prejudice connected with rivalry in commerce (25429 ff.). He has a special enthusiasm about the wool-trade, as a national concern of the first importance, and he has very definite opinions about the abuses of the staple (25360 ff.). At the same time there is no definite evidence that Gower was a merchant, and his interest in trade and in the affairs of the city of London may well have arisen from his residence in or near the city and his personal acquaintance with merchants (cp. Mir. 25915 ff.). His references to the dearness of labour and the unreasonable demands of the labourer (24625 ff.) are what we might expect from a man who had property in land; but again we have no sufficient evidence that Gower was a land-owner in the ordinary sense of the word, for, though he acquired the manors of Feltwell and Multon, he did not reside upon either of them, but gave a lease of them at once.

He tells us that he is a man of simple tastes (26293 ff.), and we know from the whole tone of his writings that he is a just and upright man, who believes in the subordination of the various members of society to one another, and who will not allow himself to be ruled in his own household either by his wife or his servants. But, though a thorough believer in the principle of gradation in human society, he constantly emphasizes the equality of all men before God, and refuses absolutely to admit the accident of birth as constituting any claim to ‘gentilesce.’ The common descent of all from Adam is as conclusive on this point for him as it was for John Ball. Considering that his views on society are essentially the same as those of Wycliff, and considering also his strong opinions about the corruption of the Church and the misdeeds of the friars, it is curious to find how strongly he denounces the Lollards in his later writings.

He has a just abhorrence of war, and draws a very clear distinction between the debased chivalry of his own day and the true ideal of knighthood. Above all he has a deep sense of religion, and is very familiar with the Bible. He strongly believes in the moral government of the world by Providence, and he feels sure, as others of his age did also, that the final stage of corruption has almost come. Whatever others may do, he at least intends to repent of his sins and prepare himself to render a good account of his stewardship. In both his French and his Latin work he shows himself a fearless rebuker of evil, even in the highest places. The charge of time-serving timidity has been sufficiently dealt with in the Introduction to the English Works.

From the Vox Clamantis it is evident that the rising of the Peasants produced a very powerful, indeed almost an overwhelming, impression upon his mind. He describes the terror inspired by it among those of his social standing in the most impressive manner. The progress of his political development during the reign of Richard II is clearly seen in his Latin works, with their successive revisions. He began, it is evident, with full hope and confidence that the youthful king would be a worthy representative of his father the Black Prince, both in war and in peace. As time goes on, and the boy develops into an ill-regulated young man, under evil influences of various kinds, the poet begins to have doubts, and these gradually increase until they amount to certainty, and rebuke and denunciation take the place of the former favourable anticipations. In the latest version of the Confessio Amantis, which is, no doubt, contemporary with some of these changes in the text of the Vox Clamantis, we see the author’s confidence transferred from the king to his cousin, not as yet regarded as a successor to the throne, but thought of as representing a fair ideal of chivalry and honesty. Finally, in the Cronica Tripertita, he accepts the fall of Richard as the fatal consequence of a course of evil government and treachery, and rejoices in the prospect of a new order of things under his predestined hero.

We see here the picture of one who is not devoted to a particular party, but looks to what he conceives as the common good, deeply impressed with the sense that things are out of joint, and hoping against hope that a saviour of society may arise, either in the person of the young king, or of his vigorous and chivalrous cousin. There is no sign of any liking for John of Gaunt or of any attachment to the Lancastrian party generally; but he is stirred to very genuine indignation at the unfair treatment of men whom he regards as honest patriots, such as Gloucester, the Arundels, and Cobham. He himself was evidently a most patriotic Englishman, loving his country and proud of its former greatness. For this we may refer especially to Vox Clamantis, vii. 1289 ff., but the same feeling is visible also in many other passages. He is a citizen of the world no doubt, but an Englishman first, and he cares intensely for the prosperity of his native land. Even when he writes in French it is for England’s sake,

When he decides that the Confessio Amantis could no longer go forth with Richard as its patron, it is to England that he dedicates his poem, and for his country that he offers up the prayers which he can no longer utter with sincerity on behalf of the worthless king (Conf. Am. Prol. 24 and viii. 2987).

From the Confessio Amantis we learn the circumstances under which that work was undertaken, owing in part at least to a suggestion from the king himself, who, meeting Gower upon the river, made him come into his own barge and conversed with him familiarly on his literary projects, urging him apparently to the composition of a poem in English, and perhaps suggesting Love as the subject. We gather also that in the year 1390 the author considered himself already an old man, and that he had then suffered for some time from ill-health (Prol. 79*, viii. 3042*), and from the Epistle to Archbishop Arundel prefixed later to the Vox Clamantis, as well as from the Latin lines beginning ‘Henrici Regis’ (or ‘Henrici quarti’) we learn that he was blind during the last years of his life, probably from the year 1400. We may reasonably suppose that he was born about the year 1330, or possibly somewhat later. From the Latin statement about his books we learn, what is tolerably obvious from their tenour, that his chief aim in writing was edification, while at the same time we gather from the opening of the first book of the Confessio Amantis that he then despaired of effecting anything by direct admonition, and preferred finally to mingle amusement with instruction. The Latin lines at the end of this volume, beginning ‘Dicunt scripture,’ express a principle which he seems to have followed himself, namely that a man should give away money for good purposes during his own life, rather than leave such business to be attended to by his executors.

The literary side of his activity is sufficiently dealt with in the introductions to his several works, and there also it is noted what were the books with which he was acquainted. It is enough to say here that he was a man of fairly wide general reading, and thoroughly familiar with certain particular books, especially the Bible, all the works of Ovid, and the Aurora of Peter de Riga.

THE LATIN WORKS.

Of the works which are included in the present volume the Vox Clamantis is the most important. It is written in elegiac verse, more or less after the model of Ovid, and consists of 10,265 lines, arranged in seven books, of which the first, second and third have separate prologues, and each is divided into a series of chapters with prose headings. As to the date of composition, all that we can say is that the work in its present form is later than the Peasants’ rising in the summer of 1381, and yet it was evidently composed while the memory of that event was fresh, and also before the young king had grown beyond boyhood. The advice to the king with regard to fidelity in marriage need not be taken to have special reference to the king’s actual marriage at the end of the year 1382, but perhaps it is more natural to suppose that it was written after that event than before.

The general plan of the author is to describe the condition of society and of the various degrees of men, much as in the latter portion of the Speculum Meditantis. This, however, is made subordinate to the detailed account, given at the beginning, of the Peasants’ rising, and that is in fact set down as the main subject of the work in the Latin account of it given by the author: ‘Secundus enim liber sermone Latino versibus exametri et pentametri compositus tractat super illo mirabili euentu, qui in Anglia tempore domini Regis Ricardi secundi anno regni sui quarto contigit, quando seruiles rustici impetuose contra nobiles et ingenuos regni insurrexerunt. Innocenciam tamen dicti domini Regis tunc minoris etatis causa inde excusabilem pronuncians, culpas aliunde, ex quibus et non a fortuna talia inter homines contingunt enormia, euidencius declarat. Titulusque voluminis huius, cuius ordo septem continet paginas, Vox Clamantis nominatur.’

So the statement of contents ran in its earlier form. Afterwards the excuses made for the king on the ground of his youth were withdrawn, and in the final form of the statement the events of the Cronica Tripertita are brought into the reckoning, and the fall of Richard seems to be represented as a moral consequence of the earlier misfortunes of his reign.

Evidently what is quoted above is a very insufficient summary of the Vox Clamantis, which in fact deals with the Peasants’ rising only in its first book; and notwithstanding the fact that this event so much overshadows the other subjects of the poem that the author in describing his work afterwards treated it as the only theme, there is some reason to question whether what we have is really the original form of the poem, and even to conclude that the work may have been originally composed altogether without this detailed narrative of the insurrection. For this idea there is some manuscript authority. It has not hitherto been noted that in one copy (MS. Laud 719) the Vox Clamantis appears with the omission of the whole of the first book after the Prologue and first chapter66. At the same time the text of this manuscript seems to be complete in itself, and the books are numbered in accordance with the omission, so that there are six books only, our second book being numbered as the first67. There is really something to be said for this arrangement, apart from the fact that it occurs in a single manuscript. The first book, with its detailed account of the Peasants’ revolt, though in itself the most interesting part of the work, has certainly something of the character of an insertion. The plan of the remainder seems to be independent of it, though the date, June, 1381, which is found also in the Laud MS.,

was doubtless intended to suggest that portentous event as the occasion of the review of society which the work contains. The prologue of the second book, which introduces the teachings of the vision with an invocation of God’s assistance, an apology for the deficiencies of the work, and an appeal to the goodwill of the reader, and concludes with a first announcement of the name of the succeeding poem, Vox Clamantis, would certainly be much more in place at the beginning of the whole work than here, after more than two thousand lines, and there is no difficulty in supposing that the author may have introduced his account of the Peasants’ revolt as an afterthought. The chief reason for hesitating to accept the Laud MS. as representing an authentic form of the poem, lies in the fact that the text of this MS. is rather closely related to that of another copy, MS. Digby 138, which contains the first book in its usual place; and it is perhaps more likely that the original archetype of these two MSS. was one which included the first book, and that this was omitted for some reason by the scribe of the Laud MS., than that the copyist of the Digby MS. perceived the absence of this book and supplied it from some other quarter.

One other matter affecting our estimate of the style of the composition generally has perhaps been sufficiently illustrated in the Notes of this edition, that is to say, the extent to which the author borrows in the Vox Clamantis from other writers. It is sufficiently obvious to a casual reader that he has appropriated a good many lines from Ovid, though the extent of this schoolboy plagiarism is hardly to be realised without careful examination; but his very extensive obligations to other writers have not hitherto been pointed out. He repeatedly takes not lines or couplets only, but passages of eight, ten or even twenty lines from the Aurora of Peter Riga, from the poem of Alexander Neckam De Vita Monachorum, from the Speculum Stultorum, or from the Pantheon, so that in many places the composition is entirely made up of such borrowed matter variously arranged and combined. This is evidently a thing to be noted, because if the author, when describing (for example) the vices of monasteries, is found to be merely quoting from Alexander Neckam, we cannot attach much value to his account as a picture of the manners of his own time. His knowledge of Ovid seems to have been pretty complete, for he borrows from almost every section of his works with the air of one who knows perfectly well where to turn for what he wants; quite a large portion of Neckam’s poem is appropriated without the smallest acknowledgement, and many long passages are taken from the Aurora, with only one slight mention of this source (iii. 1853). Most of the good Latin lines for which Gower has got credit with critics are plagiarisms of this kind, and if Professor Morley had realized to what extent the Vox Clamantis is a compilation, he would hardly have estimated the work so highly as he has done. The extracts from medieval authors are to some extent tolerable, because they are usually given in a connected and intelligible shape, but the perpetual borrowing of isolated lines or couplets from Ovid, often without regard to their appropriateness or their original meaning, often makes the style, of the first book especially, nearly as bad as it can be. I have taken the pains to point out a considerable number of plagiarisms, but it is certain that there must be many instances which have escaped my notice. In his later Latin verse the author is very much less dependent upon others, and the Cronica Tripertita, from the nature of the subject, is necessarily original.

Gower’s own style of versification in Latin is somewhat less elegant than that of Alexander Neckam or Peter Riga, but it stands upon much the same level of correctness. If we take into account the fact that the Latin is not classical but medieval, and that certain licences of prosody were regularly admitted by medieval writers of Latin verse, we shall not find the performance very bad. Such licences are, for example, the lengthening of a short syllable at the caesura, the position of final short vowels before ‘st,’ ‘sp,’ ‘sc’ at the beginning of the succeeding word, and the use of polysyllabic words, or of two dissyllables, at the end of the hexameter, so that lines such as these are not to be taken as irregular:

In any case it is certain that Gower expressed himself in Latin with great facility and with tolerable correctness. He may have imitated the style of Ovid ‘studiosius quam felicius,’ as Leland observes, but the comparison with other Latin verse-writers of his time sets his performance in a fairly favourable light.

Vox Clamantis. Analysis.

Prologus Libri Primi.

From the records of the past we derive examples; and though credit be not commonly given to dreams, yet the writers of past time instruct us otherwise. Daniel and Joseph were taught by visions, and a man’s guardian angel often warns him in his sleep. Hence, as it seems to me, my dreams should be recorded as signs of the times; and what my vision was and at what time it came, ye may learn from this book.

If ye desire to know the writer’s name, add to John the beginning of Godfrey, the first letter of Wales and the word ter without its head. But give no praise to the author, for I write not with a view to fame. I shall write of strange things which my country has experienced, and as my matter is woful, so also shall be my song. My pen is wet with tears, and both my heart and my hand tremble; nor am I sufficient to write all the troubles that belong to the time. I ask for indulgence rather than praise: my will is good, though my powers fall short. I pray that while I sing of those true visions which disturb my heart with terror, he whose name I bear, to whom visions were revealed in Patmos, may control my work.

Liber Primus.

Cap. I. It was in the fourth year of king Richard, when the month was June: the moon had set and the morning-star had risen, when from the West a strange light sprang, the dawn came from the region of the setting sun and brought forth the day. The sun shone and all the earth was bright; Phebus went forth in his glorious car, attended by the four Seasons, Summer being nearest to him then and honoured by all creatures. The meadows were bright with flowers and the flocks sported in the fields, a perfect paradise of flowers and fruits was there, with the songs of multitudinous birds. Such was the day on which I wandered forth for my pleasure.

All things have an end, and at length that calm day had completed its appointed hours; evening came and I lay down to rest. The night came on, dark and gloomy as the day had been bright, and sleep did not visit my eyes. My hair stood on end, my flesh and my heart trembled and my senses were disturbed like water. I reflected what the cause might be of my sudden terror, and my mind wandered by various paths. The night went on, yet no sleep came, and terror of a coming evil oppressed me. Thus I spent the hours of darkness, not knowing what was approaching, seeing the past and fearing for the future; but at length, towards dawn, sleep came upon my weary eyes, and I began to dream.

Cap. II. Methought I went out upon a Tuesday to gather flowers, and I saw people in bands going abroad over the fields. Suddenly the curse of God fell like lightning upon them, and they were changed into the forms of beasts, various bands into various forms.

One band was changed into asses rebellious against the halter and the burden, careering over the fields and demanding to be as horses; and these had also horns in the middle of their foreheads, which were stained with blood; they were swift as leopards in their leap, and had tails like that of a lion, yet the stolid asinine mind was in them still. I stood in terror and could advance no further.

Cap. III. With them came oxen, who refused any longer to be subject to the yoke and who would no longer eat straw. These too were in monstrous shape with feet like those of a bear and with the tails of dragons; they breathed forth fire and smoke like the bulls of Colchos. They devastated the fields and slew men: the plough, the rake and the mattock lay idle. ‘Ah me!’ I said, ‘the cultivation of the fields will cease and famine will come upon us.’

Cap. IV. A third band I saw transformed into swine, furious and possessed by the devil. They followed one another, hog and hogling, boar and little pig, the sow and her companion, and there was no swine-herd to keep them away from the corn-fields. They wandered where they would, and the pig ravaged like a wolf.

One boar there was, whom Kent produced, such as the whole earth might not match. Flame came from his mouth and eyes, his tusks were like those of an elephant; foam mixed with human blood flowed over his flanks. He strikes down all those whom he meets and none can prevail against him: no place except heaven is safe from his rage. From the North comes another boar to meet him and to plan destruction.

These boars were greater and more furious than that of Tegea or that which Meleager hunted. They are not content with acorns for their food or water for their drink; they devour rich food in the city and drink good wine, so that they lie in drunkenness as dead. They despise the pig-stye and defile kings’ palaces with their filth: their grunting is like the roaring of a lion.

Cap. V. A fourth band was turned into dogs, who are not content with the food from their master’s table, but range in search of better, who do not hunt hares or stags, but bark at the heels of men. Here are Cut and Cur from their wretched kennels, the sheep-dog and the watch-dog, the baker’s, the butcher’s, and the miller’s dog. The one-eyed is there and the three-legged dog limps behind barking. These cannot be soothed by stroking, but bare their teeth in anger against you. They tear all whom they meet, and the more they devour the less they are satisfied. Cerberus in hell hears their howl, and breaking away from his chains he joins himself to their company and becomes their leader. More savage were these than the hounds which tore Acteon or the beast which Diana sent to destroy the Athenians. All trembled before them.

Cap. VI. Another band took the form of foxes and cats. They ran about and searched every cavern and every hiding-place, and made their way into secret chambers. There was venom in their bite. The caves of the wood send forth the foxes, who rob by day without fear, and have a treaty of peace with the dogs. The cats leave the barns and cease to catch mice, and these do damage more than ever did the mice of Ekron.

Cap. VII. A sixth took the form of domestic fowls, but they claimed to be birds of prey. The cock had the beak and claws of a falcon, and the goose soared up to the heaven. Suddenly the cock becomes a carrion-crow and the goose a kite, and they prey upon the carcasses of men. The cock crows horribly and the hen follows him and moves him to evil. The goose which formerly frightened only children with its hissing, now terrifies grown men and threatens to tear them to pieces.

Owls join themselves to these and do by day the deeds of darkness, sharpening their feathers with iron, in order that they may slay men.

Cap. VIII. The dream continued, and I saw another band in the form of flies and of frogs. These were like those that plagued Egypt: the frogs came into houses and shed their poison everywhere; the flies pursued with their stings all those of gentle blood, and nothing could keep them out. Their prince Belzebub was the leader of the host. The heat of the summer produced them suddenly in swarms: the fly was more rapacious than the hawk and prouder than the peacock; he contended with the lark, the crane and the eagle in flight.

This was a day on which horses were overcome by asses, and lions by oxen, a day in which the dog was stronger than the bear and the cat than the leopard, a day in which the weak confounded the strong, a day in which slaves were raised on high and nobles brought to the ground, a day in which the terror of God’s wrath came upon all, such a day as no chronicle records in time past. May such a day never come again in our age!

Cap. IX. When all this multitude was gathered together like the sand of the sea, one, a Jay skilled in speech, took the first place among them and addressed them thus: ‘O wretched slaves, now comes the day in which the peasant shall drive out the lord; let honour, law and virtue perish, and let our court rule.’ They listen and approve, and though they know not what ‘our court’ means, what he says has for them the force of law: if he says ‘strike,’ they strike, if he says ‘kill,’ they kill. Their sound was as the sound of the sea, and from terror I could scarcely move my feet. They strike a mutual compact and declare that all those of gentle blood who remain in the world shall be overthrown.

Then they advance all together; a dark cloud mingled with the furies of hell rains down evil into their hearts; the earth is wetted with the dew of the pit, so that no virtue can grow, but every vice increases. Satan is loose and among them, the princes of Erebus draw the world after them, and the more I gaze, the more I am terrified, not knowing what the end will be.

Cap. X. Furious rage there was, they were greedy for slaughter like hungry wolves. The seven races derived from Cain were added to them. The prophets spoke of them, Gog and Magog is their name, they neither fear man nor worship God. Moreover those companions of Ulysses, whom Circe transformed, are associated with them: some have the heads of men and others of brute beasts.

Cap. XI. There is Wat, Tom and Sim, Bet and Gib followed by Hick; Coll, Geff and Will, Grigge, Dawe, Hobbe and Lorkin, Hudd, Judd, Tebb and Jack, such are their names;68 and Ball teaches them as a prophet, himself having been taught by the devil.

Some bray like asses, others bellow like bulls, they grunt, they bark, they howl, the geese cackle, the wasps buzz; the earth is terrified with their sound and trembles at the name of the Jay.

Cap. XII. They appoint heralds and leaders, and they order that all who do not favour them shall suffer death. They are armed with stakes and poles, old bows and arrows, rusty sickles, mattocks and forks; some have only clods and stones and branches of trees. They wet the earth with the blood of their betters.

Cap. XIII. These come in their fury to the city of new Troy, which opens its gates to them, and they surge in and invade the streets and houses. It was Thursday, the festival of Corpus Christi, when this fury attacked the city on all sides; they burnt the houses and slew the citizens. The Savoy burns, and the house of the Baptist falls to ruin in the flames. They rob and carry away the spoil, and that day is closed with drunkenness everywhere.

The next day, Friday, is yet worse; no wisdom or courage avails against them, they rage like a lioness robbed of her young. O, how degenerate is the city which allows this, how disgraceful that armed knights should give place to an unarmed mob! There is no Capaneus or Tydeus, no Ajax or Agamemnon, no Hector or Achilles, to make defence or attack. Ilion with its towers cannot keep men safe from the furies.

Cap. XIV. Helenus the chief priest, who kept the palladium of Troy, was slain in spite of his exhortations. These were deeds worthy rather of demons than of men. Piety and virtue perished and vice ran riot. They said ‘Let his blood be upon our heads,’ and slew him without pity: the curse of Christ shall fall upon them for this deed.

Simon had the same death as Thomas, but at the hands of greater numbers and for a different cause. Vengeance came for the death of Thomas; for Simon it daily threatens. It was midday when this blood was shed, the shepherd was slain by his flock, the father by his children. He died untimely; but though taken away from us, he lives in heaven. This is the foulest of all the deeds done: these men are worse than Cain, who only slew his brother. O cursed hand that struck the severed head! Wail for this, all ye old and young, the evils prophesied by Cassandra come down on this city. The king could not rescue Helenus, but he mourned for him in his heart.

Cap. XV. The chief citizens also perished, there was death and sorrow everywhere. If a son pleaded for his father, both were slain. No place of safety can be found by those of gentle condition; they flee to the forests in vain, and move vaguely hither and thither, neither city nor field affords them protection. Death is everywhere, and spares not even the women and the children. There is no remedy, and neither lamentation nor prayers are of any avail.

Cap. XVI. When I saw all this, horror seized me and I fled. I left my own house and wandered over the fields, I went from place to place in search of safety; the enemy pressed after me; I hid in caves of the woods, and was without hope at evening of what the morrow might bring. My dreams terrified me and my heart melted like wax in the fire. I lay hid during the day and trembled at every sound, the tears that I shed were my sole subsistence. I was alone and in terror of the wrath of God, my mind was sick and my body was wasted. Hardly ever did I meet a companion, and those friends whom I had trusted in prosperity failed me now. I dared scarcely speak a word, lest I should betray myself to an enemy.

Then, when I saw nothing but death about me, I desired to die, and yet I was unwilling to perish in so desolate a state. While I wept, lo, Wisdom came to me and bade me stop my tears, for grief would at some time cease. I stood amazed and in doubt; death was life to me and life was death, and wondrous visions passed before me.

Cap. XVII. I saw not far off a Ship, and I ran towards it and climbed up its side. In it were almost all those of gentle birth, crowded together and terrified, seeking refuge from the furies. I prayed that we might have a favourable voyage. The ship left the shore, but my hopes were vain: the sky grew dark and the winds lashed the waves into storm, the ship was driven before them amid thunder and rain. There was confusion among the sailors, and the captain in vain endeavoured to direct the ship’s course.

Cap. XVIII. At length the storm so increased that all were in despair of safety. A huge monster of the sea, Scylla and Charybdis both in one, appeared as if to destroy the ship and all who were in it. We prayed to heaven for help.

(The Tower of London was like this ship, shaken by the storm, its walls giving way to the fury of the mob. In vain it offered hopes of safety; it was stained with foul parricide, and the den of the leopard was captured by assault.)

When I saw these things I was terrified in my sleep, and I prayed to God for help. ‘Thou Creator and Redeemer of the human race, thou who didst save Paul from the sea, Peter from prison and Jonah from the whale’s belly, hear my prayer, I entreat thee. Help me and grant that I may be cast up on a favourable shore!’

As I prayed, the monster struck the ship, and it was almost swallowed up by the fury of Scylla.

Cap. XIX. Yet our cries and tears were not unheard. When the storm raged most furiously, there was one William, a Mayor, who was moved to high deeds: he struck down that proud Jay, and with his death the storm abated, Scylla restored its prey, and the ship once more rode upright upon the water. The sailors regained their courage and hoisted a little sail, peace returned and the sky became clear. I then with all the rest gave thanks to Christ.

Cap. XX. Still my dream went on, and still I seemed to see that ship, which now with broken oars was drifting in search of a landing-place. It was driven to that port where all this evil raged; it had escaped Scylla, but it came to an Island more dangerous than Scylla. I landed, and asked one of those whom I met, ‘What island is this, and why is there so great a concourse of people here?’ He replied: ‘This is called the Island of Brute, and the men who dwell here are of fair form but of savage condition. This people lays law and justice low by violence; strife and bloodshed reign here ever. Yet if they could love one another, no better people would there be from the rising to the setting of the sun.’

I was saddened and terrified by his answer, I knew not whether sea or land were more to be feared. The heavenly voice which I had heard before said to me, ‘Lament not, but take heed to thyself. Thou hast come to a place where wars abound, but do thou seek peace within by God’s assistance. Be cautious and silent; but when thou hast leisure, record these dreams of thine, for dreams often give a presage of the future.’ The voice was heard no more, and at that moment the cock crew and I awoke from my sleep, scarce knowing whether what I had seen was within me or without.

Cap. XXI. Then I returned thanks to God for having preserved me upon the sea and from the jaws of Scylla. The rustic goes back to his labours, but in his heart there remains hatred of his lords; therefore let us be forewarned and provide against future evils. As for me, God has set me free from the danger, and for this I thank him; and I would that my country, preserved from destruction, might render due thanks to God. While the memory of these things is fresh in me, I will write that which I experienced in my sleep, that waking slumber which brought to me no mere vision but a dream of reality.

Prologus Libri Secundi.

Many things did I see and note, which my pen shall write, but first I invoke, not the Muses, but the true Spirit of God, and I will let down my nets in the name of Christ and for his glory. The style and the verses are poor, but the meaning is good. I will give that which my poor faculties can attain to; and may he be my helper who produced speech from the mouth of an ass. I prefer to do a little good than none.

The words which follow are not spoken from myself; they are gathered from various sources, as honey from various flowers or bright shells from various shores. The name of the book is Vox Clamantis, because it is the utterance of a fresh sorrow.

Liber Secundus.

Cap. I. Tears shall be the ink with which I write. All is vanity except the love of God, and man has cause for lamentation from his birth.

Yet if any people in the world could be happy, God granted this boon to us; we were blessed above all other nations. Now our former glory is extinguished and our prosperity is destroyed.

Why is our condition thus changed? Nothing on earth happens without a cause, yet all deny that they are the cause of this and find fault with Fortune, who turns all things upside down.

Cap. II. O thou who art called Fortune, why dost thou thus depress those whom thou didst once exalt? Once our country was everywhere honoured, all desired to be at peace with it: now our glory has departed and enemies attack us from all quarters. Reply, Fortune, and say if thou art the cause of this change. I think not, for I believe in God and not in Fortune; yet I will describe thee, as men think that thou art.

Cap. III. Fortune, hear what men say of thee, that thou hast a double face, and goest by double paths, that nothing in thee is stable or secure. No gifts may keep thee faithful, thou art lighter than the dead leaves which fly before the wind: now thou art bright and fair, now dark and lowering; thy love is more treacherous than that of a harlot, the prosperity which thou givest is very near to disaster.

Cap. IV. Fortune gives no honey without gall, she changes like the sphere of the moon. Her wheel is ever turning, and no tears or prayers will move her. Citizen and husbandman, king and rustic, rich and poor, all are alike to her. Ah! why was so much power given to such a one as she is?

Thus men say, believing that Fortune can overthrow the decrees of God, but in fact she is nothing, fate is nothing, chance has nothing to do with the affairs of men. Each one makes for himself his own lot: if the will is good, good fortune follows, if evil, it makes the fortune bad. Virtue will lead you to the summit of the wheel, and vice will bring you and your fortune down to the bottom.

Cap. V. God has said that the man who obeys his commands shall prosper in wealth and peace: the very elements are subject to the righteous man. Joshua caused the sun to stand still, Gregory stayed the plague, Moses divided the sea, Elisha caused iron to swim, the three children were unhurt by the fire, the earth rose to give a seat to Hilarius. Wild animals, too, serve the just man, witness Daniel, Silvester, Moses and Jonah.

Cap. VI. Again, the elements war against sinners: so it was in the case of the plague caused by David’s sin, in the case of the Sodomites, Korah, Dathan and Abiram, Lysias and others. The wicked man cannot enjoy good fortune, nor can the good man be deprived of it. It was guilt that caused the fall of Pharaoh and of Saul, the death of Ahab and of Eli with his sons. The Jews always conquered while they were obedient to God’s law, and were overcome when they transgressed it.

Cap. VII. It is God Omnipotent, the Three in One, who governs all things here. As fire, heat and motion are three things combined in one, so the Father, Son and Holy Spirit are three persons but one Godhead.

Cap. VIII. Christ, the Son of the Father, became incarnate in man, and yet remained what he was before, being less than the Father and yet equal to him, perfect Man and perfect God. As the frailty of the first Adam brought evil upon us all, so the strength of the second Adam healed our wound and restored our fallen state.

Cap. IX. We must submit our mind to the faith, for man cannot understand the things of God, and we must not examine too closely the mystery which we cannot penetrate. This we know, that life is given to all through the name of Jesus Christ.

Cap. X. The heathen bows down to figures of wood and stone, asking help from that which his hands have made. Was not the world made for man and all things placed in subjection to him? How then can these idols be of any avail?

As for us, we use images differently, not giving to them the worship that belongs to God, but by them assisting devotion; especially the sign of the Cross is to be adored, by means of which we conquer the powers of evil. Great is the virtue of the Cross, by which Christ despoiled hell of its prey and ascended into heaven.

Cap. XI. God created the heaven and the earth, and all created things ought to serve him. As he creates all things, so also he rules them continually, and he gives his gifts according to men’s merit. Whatever comes to pass in the world, whether it be good or evil, we are the cause of it.

Prologus Libri Tercii.

Since good and bad fortune are due to the merits and demerits of men, I shall examine the various conditions of men and find out where the fault lies. I shall utter not so much my own words as the common report of others, and it must be remembered that he who finds fault with the bad is in effect praising the good. May God assist me to carry out my task! My abilities are small, and I do not affect high themes, but I speak of the evils which the common voice of humanity bewails. Let no envy or calumny attack my work; and do thou, O Christ, grant that I may avoid falsehood and flattery. With this prayer I enter on my voyage.

Liber Tercius.

Cap. I. The order of the world is in three degrees,—Clergy, Knighthood and Peasantry. I shall deal first with the prelates of the Church, whose practice is very far removed from the example of Christ. Riches alone are valued by them, and the poor man is despised, whatever may be his merits.

Cap. II. Prelates of the Church are now hirelings, whose desire is to live in luxury and to indulge their appetites. Gluttony and lust everywhere prevail.

Cap. III. The prelates of the Church aim at earthly honours instead of heavenly: they desire rather to have the pre-eminence than to do good. Powerful men escape without rebuke for their sins, and penance is avoided by payment.

Cap. IV. As regards the ‘positive law,’ for breach of which dispensations are granted, I ask first whether Christ gives indulgence beforehand for sin, or prohibits that which is not sin. If these things are sins, how can I be free to commit them on consideration of a money payment; if not, why does the Church forbid them? This is merely a device for bringing in money to the clergy.

Cap. V. The poison of temporal possessions is still working in the Church. They no longer war on the pagan, but turn their swords against their own brother Christians.

Cap. VI. Christ left peace with his disciples, but in our time avarice and ambition cause prelates to take part in intestine strife, with swords in their hands and the cross as their ensign. It is not the part of a soldier to offer incense at the altar or of a priest to bear arms in war.

Cap. VII. The priest should fight with other than material arms. David was not permitted to build a house for the Lord, because he had been a shedder of blood; and those who are stained with the slaughter of their brethren cannot be the true servants of the altar. Brotherly love should prevail, and this is opposed to strife and self-seeking ambition.

Cap. VIII. Worldly men may make wars, but the clergy should not take part in them; their strength is in their words and prayers, and they have no need of material arms. Too great prosperity and wealth is the cause of these evils: they do not see what the end will be.

Cap. IX. The ring and the pastoral staff belong to the Pope, the sceptre to the Emperor; the one must not usurp the rights of the other. The Emperor should not claim spiritual power, nor the Pope temporal. Christ is a lover of peace and his ministers must not appeal to the sword, but must keep the command, ‘Thou shalt not kill.’ Let Christ himself lay claim to what is his. Pride is the root of all evil.

The apostles conquered by prayers and by patience; Peter had neither silver nor gold, but he healed the lame man; our clergy abound in wealth, but do no works of healing, either spiritual or bodily. O thou who art head of the Church, remember that forgiveness should be until seventy times seven, and that Peter was commanded by Christ to put up his sword.

Cap. X. The teaching and the writings of the clergy are in favour of peace and love, and when I wondered why they waged wars, one answered me in the person of the supreme pontiff and said: ‘Rule on earth is given to us by divine decree and it pleases us to enjoy all the good things of this world. Our way is different from that of Christ and his apostles; we set up the cross as a sign of hatred and vengeance, we put to death those who will not acknowledge our rule; the pastoral staff is turned into a spear and the mitre into a helmet, we can slay with sword as well as with word, and whereas Peter cut off the ears, we cut off the head.’

Cap. XI. These claim the worship and honour which belong to God alone, and the goods which they unjustly seize are never restored. The shepherd preys like a wolf upon his own sheep.

Cap. XII. He who is promoted to dignity in the Church by simony is like the thief who enters not by the door into the sheepfold. The Church is a congregation of faithful men, and the clergy are no better than the laity, except so far as they lead better lives. Yet they lay burdens upon us which they will not bear themselves, and do not follow their own precepts. They bear the keys of heaven, but they neither enter themselves nor allow us to enter: they set no good example to their flocks.

Cap. XIII. A prelate should be a light to guide his people by example, and he should encourage them by his voice, and also reprove and restrain. The oil with which he is anointed is a type of the qualities that he ought to display.

Cap. XIV. At the Court of Rome nothing can be done without gifts: the poor man is everywhere rejected. The spirit of Antichrist is opposite to that of Christ, and there are many signs that he has already come.

Cap. XV. Our prelates aim at the mere outward show of sanctity and refuse to bear the burden of Christ. O God, in thy mercy restore them to the state which they have lost!

Cap. XVI. Rectors of parishes, too, err after the example of the prelates. They are luxurious in their lives, and many desert their spiritual cures, in order to frequent courts and great households, with a view to promotion.

Cap. XVII. Another gets leave from the bishop to leave his parish on the plea of study at the universities; but there he learns and teaches only lessons of unchastity. The Church, which is his true bride, is neglected, and harlots receive the tithe which belongs to God.

Cap. XVIII. A third rector resides in his parish, but spends his time in sports, keeps well-fed horses and dogs, while the poor are not relieved or the sick visited, makes his voice heard more in the fields and woods than in the church. He lays snares too for the women of his parish, and if their bodies be fair, he cares not how their souls are defiled.

Cap. XIX. Another neglects his cure of souls and makes money by buying and selling. He is liberal of his wealth to none but women; and if benefices were inherited by the children of those who hold them, the succession would seldom fail.

Cap. XX. The priests without benefices, who get their living by ‘annuals,’ are equally bad: the harlot and the tavern consume their gains. Let none admit these to his house, who desires to keep his wife chaste, anymore than he would admit pigeons to his bed-chamber, if he wished to keep it clean.

Cap. XXI. These infect the laity by their bad example. The bishop ought not to ordain such men; and he who might prevent an evil and does not, is equally guilty with him who causes it.

Cap. XXII. The clergy deny the right of laymen to judge and punish them; yet the sins of the clergy deeply affect the laity. We are all brethren in Christ and we are bidden to rebuke our brethren, if they do wrong, and to cast them out of the Church, if they will not amend.

Cap. XXIII. Priests say that in committing fornication they do not sin more than other men who are guilty of this vice. But their sacred condition and their vow of chastity makes the evil worse in them than in a cobbler or a shepherd.

Cap. XXIV. If we consider the office of the priesthood, we shall find that the vestments and ornaments of priests are all symbolical of the virtues which they ought to possess.

Cap. XXV. The ceremonies of sacrifices under the old law were symbols of the virtues required in priests under the new, and as under the old dispensation the ministers of the altar ought to be without defect and deformity of body, so the priests of the new law should be spiritually free from blemish. Uzzah touched the ark with unclean hands and was punished with death: so he who comes polluted to the service of the altar is worthy of punishment.

Cap. XXVI. A man must be of mature age before he assumes the priesthood; for youth is apt to yield to the temptations of the flesh. The evil impulses cannot be wholly expelled, but they may be kept in check, as is symbolized by the tonsure of the priest. Let the priest avoid idleness, whence so many vices spring.

Cap. XXVII. The honour of priests is great, if they live worthily. They administer to us the sacraments during our lives, they give us burial when we are dead, they are the salt of the earth and the light of the world. So much the worse is it when they are ignorant and bad; the distinction between the good and the bad priest is like that between the dove and the raven sent out of the ark.

Cap. XXVIII. The young scholars who are being trained for the priesthood are in these days too often indolent and vicious. If they are so in youth, they will hardly be good in their later age.

Cap. XXIX. They are induced to undertake the priesthood by desire to escape from the control of the ordinary law, by dislike of labour, and by love of good living, seldom by the higher motive, which once prevailed, of contempt for worldly things and longing after the highest good. Thus, since the clergy is without the light of virtue, we laymen wander in the dark.

Liber Quartus.

Cap. I. Men of Religious Orders are also of various conditions, some good and others bad. Let each bear his own burden of blame: I write only what common report tells me.