NOTES TO CANTO FIRST.
Reading edition
NOTE I, P. 16.
Where garden is, was place of tilt Or tournament, where blood was spilt; Where stain’d was many a foeman’s hilt With blood of knight laid low.
The martial exercise of Tilting is said to have been introduced some time between the years 920 and 937, by Henry I of Germany, styled Anceps, or Falconer, but better known by the appellation of the Fowler: his motto was, “Tardus ad vindictam, ad beneficentiam velox.”[14] He is likewise said to have purchased the lance which pierced our Saviour’s side, and, with it, some of the nails of the holy cross; giving in exchange a great portion of Suabia, and other valuable gifts.
NOTE II, P. 23.
In the centre, soup was seen Smoking, from a vase of snow.
That learned philosopher and prince of culinary perfection, Count Rumford, has taught the world the mode of preparing ice-cream in a hot oven, and of sending it freezing to table in a light crust of smoking pastry. The epicurean reader will be much disappointed if he expects to find that the above lines allude to some recent improvement in the science of chemistry, establishing the converse of this discovery; and that the soup at Dunse was actually served steaming to the company in an excavated snow-ball. It is hoped, that “a vase of snow” will be allowed as an appropriate figure for a clean white crockery tureen.
NOTE III, P. 26, 27.
The chair is filled! a stranger sat Upon the honoured seat; Nor deigned he to doff his hat, Though more than one had hinted that Respect was always meet. But he was heedless of them all, And thrice he gazed round the hall, But ne’er a word did he let fall: Whilst thus he sat, whilst thus he gazed, The goodly throng were all amazed.—
The subject of superstition, as connected with the history of man, whether it be considered as influencing his character, or as affecting his conduct in society, seems sufficiently important to occupy the serious attention of the most learned investigator. It has been treated, however, with so much ability by an elegant author of our own times,[15] that, if not altogether exhausted, little more seems left to the ingenuity of any succeeding writer, than to avail himself, as his occasions may require, of the store of information thus amply afforded him. No maxim being more certainly founded on truth, than that early impressions are generally the most lasting. Would it not be highly meritorious in any one equal to the task, to favour the public with new editions of these invaluable productions, Satan’s Invisible World, and Glanvil’s History of Witchcraft, rendered, on the modern and improved plan of juvenile education, into easy ditties, to be sung or said by nurse or child? Might we not then expect to see the pure principles of poetic taste reared on the solid basis of useful knowledge?
The following marvellous occurrence, recorded in the letter of a noble peer, and said to be founded in fact, may appear to the reader of prosaic fancy, as extremely dull and uninteresting; but as it has been the ground-work of the present poem, the author cannot think of refusing it insertion. It will likewise help to increase the volume to that respectable size which may entitle it to the honours of Russia or Morocco, and to a distinguished situation on the well arranged shelves of a modern library.
“MY DEAR SIR,
“I obey your commands with some reluctance, in relating the story of which you have heard so much, and to which your curiosity appears to be so broad awake. I do it unwillingly, because such histories depend so much upon the manner in which they are related; and this, which I have told with such success, and to the midnight terrors of so many simple souls, will make but a sorry figure in a written narration.—However, you shall have it.
“It was in the early part of— — —’s life, that he attended an hunting club at their sport, when a stranger, of a genteel appearance, and well mounted, joined the chace, and was observed to ride with a degree of courage and address that called forth the utmost astonishment of every one present. The beast he rode was of amazing powers; nothing stopped them; the hounds could never escape them; and the huntsman, who was left far behind, swore that the man and his horse were devils from hell. When the sport was over, the company invited this extraordinary person to dinner; he accepted the invitation, and astonished the company as much by the powers of his conversation, and the elegance of his manners, as by his equestrian prowess. He was an orator, a poet, a painter, a musician, a lawyer, a divine; in short, he was every thing, and the magic of his discourse kept the drowsy sportsmen awake long after their usual hour. At length, however, wearied nature could be charmed no more, and the company began to steal away by degrees to their repose. On his observing the society diminish, he discovered manifest signs of uneasiness: he therefore gave new force to his spirits, and new charms to his conversation, in order to detain the remaining few some time longer. This had some little effect; but the period could not be long delayed when he was to be conducted to his chamber. The remains of the company retired also; but they had scarce closed their eyes, when the house was alarmed by the most terrible shrieks that were ever heard: several persons were awakened by the noise; but, its continuance being short, they concluded it to proceed from a dog who might be accidentally confined in some part of the house: they very soon, therefore, composed themselves to sleep, and were very soon awakened by shrieks and cries of still greater terror than the former. Alarmed at what they heard, several of them rung their bells, and, when the servants came, they declared that the horrid sounds proceeded from the stranger’s chamber. Some of the gentlemen immediately arose, to inquire into this extraordinary disturbance; and, while they were dressing themselves for that purpose, deeper groans of despair, and shriller shrieks of agony, again astonished and terrified them. After knocking sometime at the stranger’s chamber-door, he answered them as one awakened from sleep, declared he had heard no noise, and, rather in an angry tone, desired he might not be again disturbed. Upon this they returned to one of their chambers, and had scarce begun to communicate their sentiments to each other, when their conversation was interrupted by a renewal of yells, screams, and shrieks, which, from the horror of them, seemed to issue from the throats of damned and tortured spirits. They immediately followed the sounds, and traced them to the stranger’s chamber, the door of which they instantly burst open, and found him upon his knees in bed, in the act of scourging himself with the most unrelenting severity, his body streaming with blood. On their seizing his hand to stop the strokes, he begged them, in the most wringing tone of voice, as an act of mercy, that they would retire, assuring them that the cause of their disturbance was over, and that in the morning he would acquaint them with the reasons of the terrible cries they had heard, and the melancholy sight they saw. After a repetition of his entreaties, they retired; and in the morning some of them went to his chamber, but he was not there; and, on examining the bed, they found it to be one gore of blood. Upon further inquiry, the groom said, that, as soon as it was light, the gentleman came to the stable booted and spurred, desired his horse might be immediately saddled, and appeared to be extremely impatient till it was done, when he vaulted instantly into his saddle, and rode out of the yard on full speed.—Servants were immediately dispatched into every part of the surrounding country, but not a single trace of him could be found; such a person had not been seen by any one, nor has he been since heard of.
“The circumstances of this strange story were immediately committed to writing, and signed by every one who were witnesses to them, that the future credibility of any one, who should think proper to relate them, might be duly supported. Among the subscribers to the truth of this history are some of the first names of this century.—It would now, I believe, be impertinent to add any thing more, than that I am, yours, &c.”
If farther proof were necessary to shew, that the dominion of superstition is not altogether confined, as has been erroneously supposed, to the heroes of romance, it might be found in the learned support afforded, but a few years ago, to the predictions of the unfortunate Prophet Brothers: And although the sublime and simple truths of the Christian faith have given a fatal blow to the superstitious absurdities of more early creeds, our propensity to the marvellous, has still retained sufficient influence, to screen from detection the grossest impositions of the Roman Church. Among the numberless deceptions, which Popish craft has successfully practised upon the credulity of its votaries, one has been handed down by a venerable historian, the insertion of which cannot fail to gratify the enlightened commentators and note-compilers of the present age.—
“Qui, cum die quadam tale aliquid foris ageret, digressis ad ecclesiam sociis, ut dicere cœperam, et episcopus solus in oratorio loci, lectioni vel orationi operam daret; audivit repente, ut postea referebat, vocem suavissimam cantantium atque lætantium de cœlo ad terras usque descendere: quam videlicet vocem ab Euro austro, id est, ab alto brumalis, exortam, primo se audisse dicebat, ac deinde paulatim eam sibi appropiare, donec ad tectum usque oratorii, in quo erat Episcopus, perveniret; quod ingressa totum implevit, atque in gyro circundedit. At ille, dum solicitus in ea quæ audiebat, animum intenderet, audivit denuo transacto quasi dimidiæ horæ spatio, ascendere de tecto ejusdem oratorii idem lætitiæ canticum; et ipsa qua venerat via, ad cœlos usque cum ineffabili dulcedine, reverti. Qui cum aliquantulum horæ quasi attonitus maneret, et quid hæc essent solerti animo scrutaretur, aperuit Episcopus fenestram oratorii, et sonitum manu faciens, ut sæpius consuevit, siquis foris esset, ad se intrare præcepit. Introivit ille concitus; cui dixit antistes: vade cito ad ecclesiam, et hos septem fratres huc venire facito; tu quoque simul adesto. Qui cum venissent, primo admonuit eos, ut virtutem dilectionis et pacis, ad invicem et ad omnes fideles servarent. Instituta quoque disciplinæ regularis, quæ vel ab ipso didicissent, vel in ipso vidissent, vel in patrum præcedentium factis sive dictis invenissent, indefessa instantia sequerentur. Deinde subjunxit, diem sui obitus jam proxime instare. Namque hospes, inquit, ille amabilis, qui fratres nostros visitare solebat, ad me quoque hodie venire, meque de seculo evocare dignatus est. Propter quod revertentes ad ecclesiam, dicite fratribus, ut et meum exitum Domino precibus commendent, et suum quoque exitum, (cujus hora incerta est), vigiliis, orationibus, bonis operibus, prævenire meminerint. Cumque hæc et hujusmodi plura loqueretur, atque illi, percepta ejus benedictione, jam multum tristes exiissent, rediit ipse solus, qui carmen cœleste audierat, et prosternens se in terram, Obsecro, inquit pater, licetne aliquid interrogare? Interroga, inquit, quod vis. At ille, Obsecro, inquit, ut dicas, quod erat canticum illud lætantium, quod audivi, venientium de cœlis super oratorium hoc, et post tempus redeuntium ad cœlos. Respondit ille; Si vocem carminis audivisti, et cœlestes supervenire cœtus cognovisti, præcipio tibi in nomine Domini, ne hoc cuiquam, ante meum obitum, dicas. Revera autem Angelorum fuere spiritus, qui me ad cœlestia, quæ semper amabam ac desiderabam, præmia vocare venerunt; et post dies septem se redituros, ac me secum adducturos esse promiserunt. Quod quidem ita ut dictum ei erat opere completum est. Nam confestim languore corporis tactus est, et hoc per dies ingravescente, septimo (ut promissum ei fuerat) die, postquam obitum suum dominici corporis, et sanguinis perceptione munivit, soluta ab ergastulo corporis anima sancta, ducentibus (ut credi fas est), angelis comitibus, æterna gaudia petivit.”
E HIST. ECCLES. VENER. BED.
NOTE IV, P. 28.
A pea-green jerkin on his back, All dabbled by a splashing hack.—
The dress of this little stranger, and his manner of introducing himself to the festival, must satisfy the reader that the Goblin Groom is one of those supernatural sportsmen usually termed Fairies. In the sequel, however, it will appear evident, that he owes his origin to the hardy race of northern Elves, rather than to the more delicate family of eastern Peris.[16]
The existence of the Fairy, like that of the Mermaid, no longer rests on the credulity of the ignorant, but is confirmed and established by attestations no less respectable than the affidavits so frequently made before the Lord Mayor of London, in support of the infallibility of a quack and his nostrums.
In the isle of Man, where sportsmen of more tangible materials enjoy a temporary security, these little supernaturals, probably under similar circumstances, find an agreeable retreat. In the Minstrelsy of the Scottish Borders, on the unrefuted authority of Mr. Waldron, we have the following interesting particulars.—
“Like the FELD ELFEN of the Saxons, the usual dress of the Fairies is green; though, on the moors, they have been sometimes observed in heath-brown, or in weeds dyed with the stoneraw, or lichen. They often ride in invisible procession, when their presence is discovered by the shrill ringing of their bridles. On these occasions, they sometimes borrow mortal steeds; and when such are found at morning, panting and fatigued in their stalls, with their manes and tails dishevelled and entangled, the grooms, I presume, often find this a convenient excuse for their situation; as the common belief of the elves quaffing the choicest liquors in the cellars of the rich, (see the story of Lord Duffus below), might occasionally cloak the delinquencies of an unfaithful butler.
“The Fairies, beside their equestrian processions, are addicted, it would seem, to the pleasures of the chace. A young sailor, travelling by night from Douglas, in the Isle of Man, to visit his sister, residing in Kirk Merlugh, heard the noise of horses, the holla of a huntsman, and the sound of a horn. Immediately afterwards, thirteen horsemen, dressed in green, and gallantly mounted, swept past him. Jack was so much delighted with the sport, that he followed them, and enjoyed the sound of the horn for some miles; and it was not till he arrived at his sister’s house that he learned the danger which he had incurred. I must not omit to mention, that these little personages are expert jockeys, and scorn to ride the little Manks ponies, though apparently well suited to their size. The exercise, therefore, falls heavily upon the English and Irish horses brought into the Isle of Man. Mr. Waldron was assured by a gentleman of Ballafletcher, that he had lost three or four capital hunters by these nocturnal excursions.
WALDRON’S WORKS, P. 132.”
It is to be lamented, for the comfort of that valuable class of society denominated Hunting-Grooms, that their masters do not look into the casualties of their studs with the discriminating eye of the worthy gentleman of Ballafletcher.
NOTE V, P. 29.
And every toast with ready will His elfin hand consents to fill. Heavens! what a wondrous draught he drew Whene’er they toasted bold B— —h.
Monsieur Mallet, the learned author of the ingenious work on Northren Antiquities, seems to consider Fairies and Elves as synonymous terms. In his remarks on the ninth fable of the Edda, we find him thus expressing himself.—“Alfheim signifies, in Gothic, the abode of the Genii, that is, the Fairies of the male-sex.” To prove the Gothic origin of our Elf, we need only appeal to the devotion he shews to the bottle. His conduct at the Dunse Festival is truly northern, and the mighty Thor himself, the great champion of Scandinavian revelry, could not have displayed greater zeal in emptying the enchanted horn.—But of this the reader may judge by perusing the Gothic fable.—
THE TWENTY-FIFTH FABLE. Of the Trials that Thor underwent.
“Then the king asked Thor, in what art he would choose to give proof of that dexterity for which he was so famous. Thor replied, that he would contest the prize of drinking with any person belonging to his court. The king consented, and immediately went into his palace to look for a large horn, out of which his courtiers were obliged to drink when they had committed any trespass against the customs of the court.[17] This the cup-bearer filled to the brim, and presented to Thor, whilst the king spake thus.—Whoever is a good drinker, will empty that horn at a single draught; some persons make two of it; but the most puny drinker of all can do it at three. Thor looked at the horn, and was astonished at its length;[18] however, as he was very thirsty, he set it to his mouth, and, without drawing breath, pulled as long and as deeply as he could, that he might not be obliged to make a second draught of it; but when he withdrew the cup from his mouth, in order to look in, he could scarcely perceive any of the liquor gone. To it he went again with all his might, but succeeded no better than before. At last, full of indignation, he again set the horn to his lips, and exerted himself to the utmost to empty it entirely: then looking in, he found that the liquor was a little lowered; upon this, he resolved to attempt it no more, but gave back the horn. I now see plainly, says the king, that thou art not quite so stout as we thought thee; but art thou willing to make any more trials? I am sure, says Thor, such draughts as I have been drinking, would not have been reckoned small among the Gods.
MALLET’S NORTH. ANTIQ. VOL. II, P. 126-127.”