The Bay State Monthly, Volume 3, No. 2

The lyre is one of the oldest of musical instruments. Its invention is ascribed to a god. Its Saxon name is harp. It was the favorite instrument of the ancient Hebrews, as well as of the Greeks. The Saxons, Britons and Danes regarded it with veneration, and protected by legal enactments those who played upon it. Their persons were esteemed inviolable and secured from injuries by heavy penalities. By the laws of Wales, slaves were forbidden to practice upon it; and no creditor could seize the harp of his debtor. That minstrels were a privileged class is manifested from king Alfred's penetrating the Danish camp (878) disguised as a harper. Sixty years after a Danish king visited King Athelstan's camp in the same disguise. It was also said of Aldhelm, one of the leading scholars of the eighth century: "He was an excellent harper, a most eloquent Saxon and Latin poet, a most expert chanter, or a singer, a doctor egregius, and admirably versed in scriptures and liberal sciences." The minstrel was a regular and stated officer of the Anglo-Saxon kings. Poetry is always the earliest form of literature; song the earliest form of poetry. The Muse adapts her lessons to the nation's infancy and adds the charm of melody to verse. No nation is destitute of lyric poetry. Even the North American Indians have their war songs, though their individual worship of their gods has prevented the creation of any national poetry for associated worship. The Scandinavians have but one term for the poet and the singer. The Northern scald invented and recited his own songs and epics. In other countries the poet and minstrel performed separate duties. "The Minstrels," says Bishop Percy, "were an order of men in the Middle Ages who subsisted by the arts of poetry and music, and sang to the harp verses composed by themselves and others. They appear to have accompanied their songs with mimicry and action. They are called in Latin of the day histriones, Mimi and Scurræ. Such arts rendered them exceedingly popular in this and in neighboring countries, where no high scene of festivity was esteemed complete that was not set off with the exercise of their talents; and where so long as the spirit of chivalry existed, they were protected and caressed, because their songs tended to do honor to the ruling passion of the times, and to encourage and foment a martial spirit."

They were the legitimate successors of the bards and scalds of early times whose art was considered divine and their songs worthy of regal patronage. They were the historians, genealogists, poets, and musicians, of the land. The word minstrel is derived from the Latin minister, a servant, because they were classed among the King's attendants. An earlier Saxon name for this class of performers was "Gleeman," in rude English, a Jogeler or Jocular; Latin, "Joculator." The word "glee" is from the Saxon "gligg," meaning music; and the meaning now attached to that word shows how intimately associated were pleasure and music in the national mind. The harp was the most ancient of Saxon musical instruments. It continued in use for a thousand years. It was well known in the time of Chaucer. His Frere could play upon it and sing to it; the merry "wife of Bath" had frequently danced to it in her youth. It was an ordinary accompaniment of revels and tavern festivals. It continued in use till the reign of Elizabeth. In Dr. Percy's "Reliques of ancient English poetry" he speaks of the minstrels as an order of men in the Middle Ages, highly honored, retained and pensioned by kings, lavishly rewarded by nobles, and kindly entertained by the common people.3 Ritson in his "Ancient Songs" admits that such an "order" of singers existed in France, but never in England; that individuals wandered up and down the country chanting romances and singing songs or ballads to the harp or fiddle; but that they never enjoyed the respect of the high born or received favors from them. The church evidently looked upon them with disfavor, as the enemies of sobriety and the promoters of revelry and mirth. In the sixteenth century they lost all credit and were classed, in penal enactments, with "rogues and vagabonds." One reason of the decline of minstrelsy was the introduction of printing and the advance of learning: that which might afford amusement and pleasure when sung to the harp, lost its point and spirit when read in retirement from the printed page. Their composition would not bear criticism. Besides, the market had become overstocked with these musical wares; as the religious houses had with homilies and saintly legends. The consideration bestowed on the early minstrels "enticed into their ranks idle vagabonds," according to the act of Edward I, who went about the country under color of minstrelsy; men who cared more about the supper than the song; who for base lucre divorced the arts of writing and reciting and stole other men's thunder. Their social degeneracy may be traced in the dictionary. The chanter of the "gests" of kings, gesta ducum regumque, dwindled into a gesticulator, a jester: the honored jogelar of Provence, into a mountebank; the jockie, a doggrel ballad-monger.

Beggars they are by one consent,And rogues by act of Parliament.

What a fall was there from their former high estate and reverence. The earliest minstrels of the Norman courts, doubtless, came from France, where their rank was almost regal.

Froissart, describing a Christmas festival given by Comte de Foix in the fourteenth century, says:

"There were many Mynstrels as well of hys own as of strangers, and eache of them dyd their devoyres in their facalties. The same day the Earl of Foix gave to Hauralds and Minstrelles the sum of 500 franks, and gave to the Duke of Tonrayns Mynstreles gouns of cloth of gold furred with ermyne valued at 200 franks."

The courts of kings swarmed with these merry singers in the Dark Ages, and such sums were expended upon them, that they often drained the royal treasuries. In William's army there was a brave warrior named Taillefer, who was as renowned for minstrelsy as for arms. Like Tyrtæus and Alemon, in Sparta, he inspired his comrades with courage by his martial strains, and actually led the van in the fight against the English, chanting the praises of Charlemagne, and Roland. Richard Cœur de Lion was a distinguished patron of minstrels as well as "the mirror of chivalry." He was sought out in his prison in Austria by a faithful harper who made himself known by singing a French song under the window of the castle in which the king was confined. Blondel was the harper's name. The French song translated reads thus:

"Your beauty, lady fair,None views without delight;But still so cold an airNo passion can excite.Yet still I patient seeWhile all are shun'd like me.No nymph my heart can woundIf favor she divide,And smiles on all aroundUnwilling to decide;I'd rather hatred bear,Than love with others share."

Edward I had a harper in his train, in his crusade to the Holy Land, who stood by his side in battle.

That same king in his conquest of Wales is said to have murdered all the bards that fell into his hands lest they should rouse the nation again to arms. Gray's poem, "The Bard," was written upon that theme. I will quote a few lines:

"Dear lost companions of my tuneful art,Dear as the light that visits these eyes,Dear as the ruddy drops that warm my heart,Ye died amidst your dying country's cries—No more I weep. They do not sleep.On yonder cliffs a griesly band,I see them sit; they linger yet,Avengers of their native land."

That the minstrel was a privileged character in England down to the reign of Elizabeth is proved by history, by frequent allusions to them in the current literature of the times, and by the large body of songs, ballads, and metrical romances, still extant which are ascribed to them. They were essential to the complete education of a knight as tutors: for no accomplishment was more valued in the days of chivalry than the playing of the harp and the composition of songs in honor of the fair. Before the origin of printing they acted as publishers of the works of more renowned poets by public recitations of their works. The period of their greatest celebrity was about the middle of the fifteenth century. The minstrel chose his own subject and so long as he discoursed to warriors of heroes and enchanters, and to gay knights of true love and fair ladies, he would not want patient and gratified listeners.

The great sources of Gothic romance are a British History of Arthur and his wizzard, Merlin, by Walter, Archdeacon of Oxford, translated into Latin by Geoffrey of Monmouth; the history of Charlemagne and his twelve peers, forged by Turpin, a monk of the eighth century; the History of Troy, in two Latin works, which passed under the names of Dares Phrygius and Dictys Cretensis; and the History of Alexander the Great, originally written in Persic and translated into Greek by Simeon Seth, A.D. 1070, and again turned into Latin by Giraldus Cambrensis about the year 1200. These four works with variations, additions, and dilutions, formed the staple of romantic fiction in verse in the Dark Ages.

The minor songs and ballads which were called forth by passing events were usually amorous, sportive, gay, and often gross, yet suited to a rude age.

Ellis in his specimens of the early English poets has given us sketches of one hundred and sixty-one writers of songs from the year 1230 to 1650, after a careful search through this whole period for literary gems. The first edition of his work consisted almost entirely of love songs and sonnets; the revised edition has greater variety; but our circle of ideas is so enlarged, our habits are so different from those of by-gone centuries, that we look over this rare collection of old poems, rather to learn the manners of the people, than to enjoy the diction of their songs. We cannot doubt that this species of poetry excited an important influence when it was the staple of popular education and amusement.

A maxim is current among us which has been successively ascribed to many great thinkers, which shows the value usually set on compositions of this kind. It is this: "Let me make the songs of a people and I care not who makes their laws."

A ballad is a story in verse whose incidents awaken the sympathies and excite the passions of those who listen. The song is designed to express deep emotion, joy or sorrow, hope or fear and appeals directly to the feelings. Here, often, the singing is more than the sentiment; the tones of the chanter are often more touching than the thoughts of the Emperor. A national ode must have a national element in it; it must reflect the passions that burn in the people's breasts. Local topics, too, may call forth a general interest when they describe trials or triumphs which all may share. Says Carlyle: "In a peasant's death-bed there may be the fifth act of a tragedy. In the ballad which details the adventures and the fate of a partisan warrior or a love-lorn knight,—the foray of a border chieftain or the lawless bravery of a forrester; a Douglass, or a Robin Hood,—there may be the materials of a rich romance. Whatever be the subject of the song, high or low, sacred or secular, there is this peculiarity about it, it expresses essentially the popular spirit, the common sentiment, which the rudest breast may feel, yet which is not beneath the most cultivated. It is peculiarly the birth of the popular affections. It celebrates some event which the universal heart clings to, which, for joy or sorrow, awaken the memories of every mind." Hence we learn the history of a nation's heart from their songs as we learn their martial history from their armor.

The oldest song, set to music, which is now known is the following:

"Summer is y-comen in,Loude sing cuckoo:Groweth seed,And bloweth mead,And springeth the wood now;Sing Cuckoo!Ewe bleateth after lamb,Lowth after calf cow;Bullock starteth,Buck restethMerry sing cuckoo!Cuckoo, Cuckoo!Well sings thou cuckoo!Ne swick thou never now."

The old ballads seem to have no paternity. They spring up like flowers, spontaneously. Most of them are of unknown date and unknown authorship. The structure, language, and spelling of many have been so modified, by successive reciters, that their original form is now lost. We have a short summary of King Arthur's history, the great hero of romance, in a comparatively modern ballad. I will quote it:

Of Brutus' blood, in Brittane born,King Arthur I am to name:Through Christendome and HeathynesseWell known is my worthy fame.In Jesus Christ I doe beleeve;I am a Christyan born:The Father, Sone and Holy GostOne God I doe adore.In the four hundreed nintieth yeereOver Brittaine I did rayne,After my Savior Christ his byrth:What time I did maintaine.The fellowshippe of the table roundSoe famous in those days;Whereatt a hundred noble KnightsAnd thirty sat alwayes;Who for their deeds and martiall feates,As bookes dou yet record,Amongst all other nationsWer feared through the world.And in the castle of Tayntagill,King Uther me begateOf Agyana, a bewtyous ladye,And come of hie estate.And when I was fifteen yeer old,Then was I crowned Kinge;All Brittaine that was att an uproreI did to quiett bringAnd drove the Saxons from the realme,Who had oppressed this land;All Scotland then throughe manly featesI conquered with my hand.Ireland, Denmarke, Norway,These countryes won I allIseland, Getheland and Swothland;And mad their kings my thrallI conquered all Galya,That now is called France;And slew the hardye Froll in FieldMy honor to advance,And the ugly gyant DynabusSoe terrible to vewe,That in Saint Barnard's Mount did lye,By force of armes, I slew;And Lucyus, the emperor of RomeI brought to deadly wracke;And a thousand more of noble knightesFor feare did turn their backe;Five kings of "Haynims" I did killAmidst that bloody strife;Besides the Grecian emperorWho also lost his liffe.Whose carcasse I did send to RomeCladd pourlye on a beete;And afterward I past Mount JoyeThe next approaching yeer.Then I came to Rome where I was mettRight as a conquererAnd by all the cardinalls solempnelyeI was crowned an emperor.One winter there I mad abode;Then word to mee was broughtHowe Mordred had oppressed the crown;What treason he had wrought.Att home in Brittaine with my queene:Therefore I came with speedTo Brittaine back with all my powerTo quitt that traterous deede.And soon at Sandwich I arrivdeWhere Mordred me withstoode.But yett at last I landed thereWith effusion of much blood.Thence chased I Mordred awayWho fledd to London right,From London to Winchester, andTo Comeballe took his flight.And stile I him pursued with speedTile at the last wee mett:Uhevby an appointed day of fightWas there agreed and settWhere we did fight of mortal lifeEche other to deprive,Tile of a hundred thousand menScarce one was left alive.There all the noble chevalryeOf Brittaine took their endOh see how fickle is their stateThat doe on feates depend.There all the traiterous men were slaineNot one escapte awayAnd there dyed all my vallyant knightsAlas! that woful day!Two and twenty yeere I ware the crownIn honor and grete fame;And thus by deth4 suddenlyeDeprived of the same.

Some distinguished English critics, like Warton and Dr. Warburton, maintain that the materials as well as the taste for romantic fiction were derived almost exclusively from the Arabians. They assume therefore that the traditions, fables and mode of thought in Northern Asia from whence the Scandinavians and Germans are supposed to have originated, were identical with those which the secluded people of Arabia afterwards incorporated into their literature. It is more natural to assume that there is always a similarity in the mythologies, as in the manners, religion, and armor of rude ages and races. Respect for woman was a characteristic of the northern nations of Europe, and not of the Mohammedans. This is an all pervading element in romantic and chivalric fiction. The Northmen believed in giants and dwarfs; in wizzards and fairies; in necromancy and enchantments; as well as the Oriental natives. It is reasonable, therefore, to assume that the immense tide of song which inundated Europe from the eleventh to the sixteenth century, under the form of metrical romances, ballads, and songs, was made up of confluent streams from classical, Oriental, and Gothic mythologies. The Troubadours of Province (from Provincia, by way of eminence), the legitimate successors of the Latin citharcedi, the British bards, the northern scalds, the Saxon gleemen, and English harpers, all contributed in turn to form English minstrelsy and French romance. The Latin tongue ceased to be spoken in France about the ninth century. The new language used in its stead was a mixture of bad Latin and the language of the Franks. As their speech was a medley, so was their poetry. As the songs of chivalry were the most popular compositions in the new or Romance language, they were called Romans, or Romants. They appeared about the eleventh century. The stories of Arthur and his round table are doubtless of British origin. It is evident that the Northmen had the elements of chivalry in them long before that institution became famous, as is shown by the story of Regner Lodbrog, the celebrated warrior and sea king, who landed in Denmark about the year 800. A Swedish Prince had intrusted his beautiful daughter to the care of one of his nobles who cruelly detained her in his castle under pretence of making her his wife. The King made proclamation that whoever would rescue her should have her in marriage. Regner alone achieved her rescue. The name of the traitorous man was Orme, which in the Islandic tongue means a serpent, hence the story that the maiden was guarded by a dragon, which her bold deliverer slew. The history of Richard I. is full of such romantic adventures. Shakespeare, in his play of King John, alludes to an exploit of Richard in slaying a lion, whence the epithet "Cœur de Lion," which is given in no history. He says:

"Needs must you lay your heart at his disposeAgainst whose furie and unmatched force,The aweless lion could not wage the fightNor keep his princely heart from Richard's hand:He that perforce robs lions of their heartsMay easily winne a woman's."

This allusion is fully explained in the old romance of Richard Cœur de Lion. The King travelling as "a palmer in Almaye," from the Holy Land, was seized as a spy and imprisoned. Being challenged to a trial of pugilism by the King's son, he slew him. The King to avenge his son's death let in a hungry lion upon the royal prisoner. The King's daughter, who loved the captive, sent him forty ells of white silk "kerchers" to bind about him as a defence against the lion's teeth and claws. The romance thus proceeds:

The kever-chefes he toke on hand,And aboute his arme he wonde;And thought in that ylke whileTo slee the lyon with some gyleAnd syngle in a kyrtyle he strodeAnd abode the lyon fyers and wode,With that came the jaylere,And other men that with him wereAnd the lyon them amonge;His pawes were stiffe and stronge.His chamber dore they undoneAnd the lyon to them is goneRycharde aayd Helpe Lord Jesu!The lyon made to him venu,And wolde him have alle to rente:Kynge Rycharde beside hym glenteThe lyon on the breste hym spurnedThat about he turned,The lyon was hongry and megre,And bette his tail to be egre;He loked about as he were madde,He cryd lowde and yaned wyde.Kynge Richarde bethought him that tydeWhat hym was beste, and to him sterteIn at the thide his hand he gerte,And rente out the beste with his hondLounge and all that he there fonde.The lyon fell deed on the groundeRycharde felt no wem ne wounde.

On such fictitious incidents in the romances of past ages, Shakespeare undoubtedly built many of his dramas. The story of Shylock in the Merchant of Venice is found in an old English ballad. I will quote a few stanzas to indicate the identity of Shylock and "Germutus, the Jew of Venice."

The bloudie Jew now ready isWith whetted blade in handTo spoyle the bloud of innocent,By forfeit of his bond,And as he was about to strikeIn him the deadly blow;Stay, quoth the judge, thy crueltieI charge thee to do so.Sith needs thou wilt thy forfeit haveWhich is of flesh a pound;See that thou shed no drop of bloudNor yet the man confoundFor if thou do, like murdererThou here shall hanged be;Likewise of flesh see that thou cutNo more than longs to thee;For if thou take either more or lesseTo the value of a miteThou shall be hanged presentlyAs is both law and right.

It is reasonable to suppose the miser thereupon departed cursing the law and leaving the merchant alive.

There is, also, a famous ballad called "King Leir and His Daughters," which embodies the story of Shakespeare's tragedy of Lear. It commences thus:

So on a time it pleased the kingA question thus to move,Which of his daughters to his graceCould show the dearest love;For to my age you bring content,Quoth he, then let me hear,Which of you three in plighted trothThe kindest will appear.To whom the eldest thus began;Dear father, mind, quoth sheBefore your face to do you good,My blood shall render'd be:And for your sake, my bleeding heartShall here be cut in twainEre that I see your reverend ageThe smallest grief sustain.And so wilt I the second said;Dear father for your sakeThe worst of all extremitiesI'll gently undertake.And serve your highness night and dayWith diligence and love;That sweet content and quietnessDiscomforts may remove.In doing so you glad my soulThe aged king replied:But what sayst thou my youngest girlHow is thy love ally'd?My love quoth young Cordelia thenWhich to your grace I oweShall be the duty of a childAnd that is all I'll show.

This honest pledge the King despised and banished Cordelia. The ballad accords with the drama in the catastrophe. Both have the same moral and the same characters. The ballad is doubtless the earlier form of the story. Possibly the minstrel and dramatist may have borrowed from a common source. Good thoughts, good tales and noble deeds, like well-worn coins, sometimes lose their date and must be estimated by weight. Ballad poetry is written in various measures and with diverse feet. The rhythm is easy and flows along trippingly from the tongue with such regular emphasis and cadence as to lead instinctively to a sort of sing-song in the recital of it. Ballads are more frequently written in common metre lines of eight and six syllables alternating. Such is the famous ballad of "Chevy Chace,"5 which has been growing in popular esteem for more than three hundred years. Ben Jonson used to say he would rather have been the author of it than of all his works. Sir Philip Sidney, in his discourse on poetry, says of it: "I never heard the old song of Percy and Douglass that I found not my heart more moved than with a trumpet." Addison wrote an elaborate review of it in the seventieth and seventy-fourth numbers of the Spectator. He there demonstrates that this old ballad has all the elements in it of the loftiest existing epic. The moral is the same as that of the Iliad:

"God save the king and bless the landIn plenty, joy and peaceAnd grant henceforth that foul debateTwixt noblemen may cease."

Addison, in Number 85 of the Spectator, also commends that beautiful and touching ballad denominated "The Children in the Wood." He observes, "This song is a plain, simple copy of nature, destitute of the helps and ornaments of art. The tale of it is a pretty, tragical story and pleases for no other reason than because it is a copy of nature." It is known to every child as a nursery song or a pleasant story. A stanza or two will reveal its pathos and rhythm. The children had been committed by their dying parents to their uncle:

The parents being dead and goneThe children home he takes,And brings them straite unto his houseWhere much of them he makes.He had kept these pretty babesA twelve month and a dayeBut for their wealth he did desireTo make them both away

An assassin is hired to kill them; he leaves them in a deep forest:

These pretty babes with hand in handWent wandering up and downe;But never more could see the manApproaching from the town:Their pretty lippes with black-berriesWere all besmeared and dyedAnd when they saw the darksome nightThey sat them down and cried.Thus wandered these poor innocentsTill death did end their grief,In one another's armes they dyedAs wanting due relief;No burial this pretty pairOf any man receivesTill robin red-breast piouslyDid cover them with leaves.

There is a famous story book written by Richard Johnson in the reign of Elizabeth, entitled, "The Seven Champions of Christendom."6

The popular English ballad of "St. George and the Dragon," is founded on one of the narratives of this book, and the story in the book on a still older ballad, or legend, styled "Sir Bevis of Hampton." This, too, resembles very much Ovid's account of the slaughter of the dragon by Cadmus. In the legend of Sir Bevis the fight is thus described: