Even now there are many of
the people here who speak nothing among themselves but Span-
ish, just as there are Askenazim who speak nothing among them-
selves but Yiddish.
the people here who speak nothing among themselves but Span-
ish, just as there are Askenazim who speak nothing among them-
selves but Yiddish.
Warner - World's Best Literature - v04 - Bes to Bro
He played the fiddle and the harp; he sang songs,
he brought his daughter, who walked on her hands and executed
astonishing capers; the gleeman, minstrel, or jongleur was al-
ready as disreputable as when we find him later on with his
ribauderie. Again, we play chess; so did our ancestors. We
gamble with dice; so did they. We feast and drink together;
so did they. We pass the time in talk; so did they. In a word,
as Alphonse Karr put it, the more we change, the more we
remain the same.
Out-of-doors, as Fitz-Stephen shows, the young men skated,
wrestled, played ball, practiced archery, held water tournaments,
baited bull and bear, fought cocks, and rode races. They were
## p. 1843 (#33) ############################################
WALTER BESANT
1843
also mustered sometimes for service in the field, and went forth
cheerfully, being specially upheld by the reassuring consciousness
that London was always on the winning side.
The growth of the city government belongs to the history
of London. Suffice it here to say that the people in all times.
enjoyed a freedom far above that possessed by any other city of
Europe. The history of municipal London is a history of con-
tinual struggle to maintain this freedom against all attacks, and
to extend it and to make it impregnable. Already the people
are proud, turbulent, and confident in their own strength. They
refuse to own any other lord but the king himself; there is no
Earl of London. They freely hold their free and open meetings,
their folk-motes, in the open space outside the northwest corner
of St. Paul's Churchyard. That they lived roughly, enduring
cold, sleeping in small houses in narrow courts; that they suf-
fered much from the long darkness of winter; that they were
always in danger of fevers, agues, "putrid" throats, plagues,
fires by night, and civil wars; that they were ignorant of letters,
-three schools only for the whole of London, all this may
very well be understood. But these things do not make men
and women wretched. They were not always suffering from pre-
ventable disease; they were not always hauling their goods out
of the flames; they were not always fighting. The first and
most simple elements of human happiness are three; to wit, that
a man should be in bodily health, that he should be free, that
he should enjoy the produce of his own labor. All these things
the Londoner possessed under the Norman kings nearly as much
as in these days they can be possessed. His city has always
been one of the healthiest in the world; whatever freedom
could be attained he enjoyed; and in that rich trading town all
men who worked lived in plenty.
The households, the way of living, the occupations of the
women, can be clearly made out in every detail from the Anglo-
Saxon literature. The women in the country made the garments,
carded the wool, sheared the sheep, washed the things, beat the
flax, ground the corn, sat at the spinning-wheel, and prepared
the food. In the towns they had no shearing to do, but all the
rest of their duty fell to their province. The English women
excelled in embroidery. "English" work meant the best kind of
work. They worked church vestments with gold and pearls and
precious stones. "Orfrey," or embroidery in gold, was a special
-
## p. 1844 (#34) ############################################
1844
WALTER BESANT
art. Of course they are accused by the ecclesiastics of an over-
weening desire to wear finery; they certainly curled their hair,
and, one is sorry to read, they painted, and thereby spoiled their
pretty cheeks. If the man was the hlaf-ord [lord],- -the owner
or winner of the loaf, -the wife was the hlaf-dig [lady], its dis-
tributor; the servants and the retainers were hlaf-oetas, or eaters
of it. When nunneries began to be founded, the Saxon ladies in
great numbers forsook the world for the cloister. And here they
began to learn Latin, and became able at least to carry on corre-
spondence specimens of which still exist-in that language.
Every nunnery possessed a school for girls. They were taught
to read and to write their own language and Latin, perhaps also
rhetoric and embroidery. As the pious Sisters were fond of
putting on violet chemises, tunics, and vests of delicate tissue,
embroidered with silver and gold, and scarlet shoes, there was
probably not much mortification of the flesh in the nunneries of
the later Saxon times.
This for the better class. We cannot suppose that the daugh-
ters of the craftsmen became scholars of the nunnery. Theirs
were the lower walks-to spin the linen and to make the bread
and carry on the housework.
## p. 1845 (#35) ############################################
WALTER BESANT
1845
"A
THE SYNAGOGUE
From The Rebel Queen': copyrighted 1893, by Harper and Brothers
"D'un jour intérieur je me sens éclairé,
Et j'entends une voix qui me dit d'espérer. ”— Lamartine.
RE you ready, Francesca ? »
――――
Nelly ran lightly down the narrow stairs, dressed for
Sabbath and Synagogue. She was dainty and pretty at all
times in the matter of dress, but especially on a summer day,
which affords opportunity for bright color and bright drapery and
an ethereal appearance. This morning she was full of color and
light. When, however, she found herself confronted with Fran-
cesca's simple gray dress, so closely fitting, so faultless, and her
black-lace hat with its single rose for color, Nelly's artistic sense
caused her heart to sink like lead. It is not for nothing that one
learns and teaches the banjo; one Art leads to another; she who
knows music can feel for dress. "Oh! " she cried, clasping her
hands. "That's what we can never do! "
"What?
"That fit! Look at me! Yet they call me clever. Clara gives
me the new fashions and I copy them, and the girls in our street
copy me
- poor things! —and the dressmaker comes to talk things
over and to learn from me. I make everything for myself. And
they call me clever! But I can't get near it; and if I can't
nobody can. "
A large detached structure of red brick stood east and west,
with a flat façade and round windows that bore out the truth of
the date 1700-carved upon the front. A word or two in that
square character-that tongue which presents so few attractions
to most of us compared with other tongues-probably corrobo-
rated the internal evidence of the façade and the windows.
"This is the synagogue," said Nelly. She entered, and turn-
ing to the right, led the way up-stairs to a gallery running along
the whole side of the building. On the other side was another
gallery. In front of both was a tolerably wide grill, through
which the congregation below could be seen perfectly.
"This is the women's gallery," whispered Nell-there were
not many women present. "We'll sit in the front. Presently
they will sing. They sing beautifully. Now they're reading
## p. 1846 (#36) ############################################
1846
WALTER BESANT
prayers and the Law.
They've got to read the whole Law
through once a week, you know. " Francesca looked curiously
through the grill. When one is in a perfectly strange place, the
first observations made are of small and unimportant things. She
observed that there was a circular inclosure at the east end, as if
for an altar; but there was no altar: two doors indicated a cup-
board in the wall. There were six tall wax-lights burning round
the inclosure, although the morning was fine and bright. At the
west end a high screen kept the congregation from the disturb-
ance of those who entered or went out. Within the screen was
a company of men and boys, all with their hats and caps on their
heads; they looked like the choir. In front of the choir was a
platform railed round. Three chairs were placed at the back of
the platform. There was a table covered with red velvet, on
which lay the book of the Law, a ponderous roll of parchment
provided with silver staves or handles. Before this desk or table
stood the Reader. He was a tall and handsome man, with black
hair and full black beard, about forty years of age. He wore a
gown and large Geneva bands, like a Presbyterian minister; on
his head he had a kind of biretta. Four tall wax candles were
placed round the front of the platform. The chairs were occu-
pied by two or three elders. A younger man stood at the desk
beside the Reader. The service was already begun-it was, in
fact, half over.
Francesca observed next that all the men wore a kind of
broad scarf, made of some white stuff about eight feet long and
four feet broad. Bands of black or blue were worked in the
ends, which were also provided with fringes. "It is the Talleth,"
Nelly whispered. Even the boys wore this white robe, the effect
of which would have been very good but for the modern hat, tall
or pot, which spoiled all. Such a robe wants a turban above it,
not an English hat. The seats were ranged along the synagogue
The place was not full, but there were a good
many worshipers. The service was chanted by the Reader. It
was a kind of chant quite new and strange to Francesca. Like
many young persons brought up with no other religion than
they can pick up for themselves, she was curious and somewhat
learned in the matter of ecclesiastical music and ritual, which she
approached, owing to her education, with unbiased mind. She
knew masses and anthems and hymns and chants of all kinds;
never had she heard anything of this kind before. It was not
east and west.
## p. 1847 (#37) ############################################
WALTER BESANT
1847
congregational, or Gregorian; nor was it repeated by the choir
from side to side; nor was a monotone with a drop at the
end; nor was it a florid, tuneful chant such as one may hear in
some Anglican services. This Reader, with a rich, strong voice,
a baritone of great power, took nearly the whole of the service
it must have been extremely fatiguing— upon himself, chanting
it from beginning to end. No doubt, as he rendered the read-
ing and the prayers, so they had been given by his ancestors in
Spain and Portugal generation after generation, back into the
times when they came over in Phoenician ships to the Cartha-
ginian colonies, even before the dispersion of the Ten Tribes.
It was a traditional chant of antiquity beyond record- not a
monotonous chant. Francesca knew nothing of the words; she
grew tired of trying to make out whereabouts on the page the
Reader might be in the book lent her, which had Hebrew on
one side and English on the other. Besides, the man attracted
her-by his voice, by his energy, by his appearance. She closed
her book and surrendered herself to the influence of the voice
and the emotions which it expressed.
There was no music to help him. From time to time the
men in the congregation lifted up their voices-not seemingly
in response, but as if moved to sudden passion and crying out
with one accord. This helped him a little, otherwise he was
without any assistance.
A great Voice. The man sometimes leaned over the Roll of
the Law, sometimes he stood upright, always his great Voice
went up and down and rolled along the roof and echoed along
the benches of the women's gallery. Now the Voice sounded a
note of rejoicing; now, but less often, a note of sadness; now
it was a sharp and sudden cry of triumph. Then the people
shouted with him- it was as if they clashed sword on shield
and yelled for victory; now it was a note of defiance, as when
men go forth to fight an enemy; now it sank to a murmur, as
of one who consoles and soothes and promises things to come;
now it was a note of rapture, as if the Promised Land was
already recovered.
-
Was all that in the Voice? Did the congregation, all sitting
wrapped in their white robes, feel these emotions as the Voice
thundered and rolled? I know not. Such was the effect pro-
duced upon one who heard this Voice for the first time. At first
it seemed loud, even barbaric; there was lacking something which
## p. 1848 (#38) ############################################
1848
WALTER BESANT
the listener and stranger had learned to associate with worship.
What was it? Reverence? But she presently found reverence
in plenty, only of a kind that differed from that of Christian
worship. Then the listener made another discovery. In this
ancient service she missed the note of humiliation. There was
no Litany at a Faldstool. There was no kneeling in abasement;
there was no appearance of penitence, sorrow, or the confession
of sins. The Voice was as the Voice of a Captain exhorting his
soldiers to fight. The service was warlike, the service of a peo-
ple whose trust in their God is so great that they do not need
to call perpetually upon Him for the help and forgiveness of
which they are assured. Yes, yes- she thought- this is the
service of a race of warriors; they are fighting men: the Lord is
their God; He is leading them to battle: as for little sins, and
backslidings, and penitences, they belong to the Day of Atone-
ment - which comes once a year. For all the other days in the
year, battle and victory occupy all the mind. The service of a
great fighting people; a service full of joy, full of faith, full of
assurance, full of hope and confidence-such assurance as few
Christians can understand, and of faith to which few Christians
can attain. Perhaps Francesca was wrong; but these were her
first impressions, and these are mostly true.
In the body of the synagogue men came late. Under one
gallery was a school of boys, in the charge of a graybeard, who,
book in hand, followed the service with one eye, while he
admonished perpetually the boys to keep still and to listen. The
boys grew restless; it was tedious to them -the Voice which
expressed so much to the stranger who knew no Hebrew at all
was tedious to the children; they were allowed to get up and
run into the court outside and then to come back again; nobody
heeded their going in and out. One little boy of three, wrapped,
like the rest, in a white Talleth, ran up and down the side aisle
without being heeded - even by the splendid Beadle with the
gold-laced hat, which looked so truly wonderful above the Ori-
ental Talleth. The boys in the choir got up and went in and
out just as they pleased. Nobody minded. The congregation,
mostly well-to-do men with silk hats, sat in their places, book in
hand, and paid no attention.
―――
Under the opposite gallery sat two or three rows of worship-
ers, who reminded Francesca of Browning's poem of St. John's
Day at Rome. For they nudged and jostled each other; they
## p. 1849 (#39) ############################################
WALTER BESANT
1849
whispered things; they even laughed over the things they whis-
pered. But they were clad like those in the open part in the
Talleth, and they sat book in hand, and from time to time they
raised their voices with the congregation. They showed no rev-
erence except that they did not talk or laugh loudly. They were
like the children, their neighbors, just as restless, just as unin-
terested, just as perfunctory. Well, they were clearly the poorer
and the more ignorant part of the community. They came here
and sat through the service because they were ordered so to do;
because, like Passover, and the Feast of Tabernacles, and the
Fast of Atonement, it was the Law of their People.
The women in the gallery sat or stood. They neither knelt
nor sang aloud; they only sat when it was proper to sit, or stood
when it was proper to stand. They were like the women, the
village women, in a Spanish or Italian church, for whom every-
thing is done. Francesca, for the moment, felt humiliated that
she should be compelled to sit apart from the congregation, railed
off in the women's gallery, to have her religion done for her,
without a voice of her own in it at all. So, I have heard, indig-
nation sometimes fills the bosom of certain ladies when they
reflect upon the fact that they are excluded from the choir, and
forbidden even to play the organ in their own parish church.
The chanting ceased; the Reader sat down. Then the Choir
began. They sang a hymn-a Hebrew hymn - the rhythm and
metre were not English; the music was like nothing that can be
heard in a Christian Church. "It is the music," said Nelly, "to
which the Israelites crossed the Red Sea:" a bold statement,
but - why not? If the music is not of Western origin and char-
acter, who can disprove such an assertion? After the hymn the
prayers and reading went on again.
There came at last-it is a long service, such as we poor
weak-kneed Anglicans could not endure- the end.
the end. There was a
great bustle and ceremony on the platform; they rolled up the
Roll of the Law; they wrapped it in a purple velvet cloth; they
hung over it a silver breastplate set with twelve jewels for the
Twelve Tribes-in memory of the Urim and Thummim. Fran-
cesca saw that the upper ends of the staves were adorned with
silver pomegranates and with silver bells, and they placed it in
the arms of one of those who had been reading the law; then a
procession was formed, and they walked, while the Choir sang
one of the Psalms of David-but not in the least like the same
-
## p. 1850 (#40) ############################################
1850
WALTER BESANT
Psalm sung in an English Cathedral-bearing the Roll of the
Law to the Ark, that is to say, to the cupboard, behind the rail-
ing and inclosure at the east end.
The Reader came back. Then with another chanted Prayer –
it sounded like a prolonged shout of continued Triumph — he
ended his part of the service.
And then the choir sang the last hymn-a lovely hymn, not
in the least like a Christian, or at least an English hymn-a
psalm that breathed a tranquil hope and a perfect faith. One
needed no words to understand the full meaning and beauty and
depth of that hymn.
The service was finished. The men took off their white scarfs
and folded them up. They stood and talked in groups for a few
minutes, gradually melting away. As for the men under the
gallery, who had been whispering and laughing, they trooped
out of the synagogue all together. Evidently, to them the serv-
ice was only a form. What is it, in any religion, but a form,
to the baser sort?
The Beadle put out the lights. Nelly led the way down the
stairs. Thinking of what the service had suggested to herself-
all those wonderful things above enumerated - Francesca won-
dered what it meant to a girl who heard it every Sabbath morn-
ing. But she refrained from asking. Custom too often takes
the symbolism out of the symbols and the poetry out of the
verse. Then the people begin to worship the symbols and make
a fetich of the words. We have seen this elsewhere-in other
forms of faith. Outside they found Emanuel. They had not
seen him in the congregation, probably because it is difficult to
recognize a man merely by the top of his hat.
"Come," he said, "let us look around the place.
Afterwards,
perhaps, we will talk of our Service. This synagogue is built on
the site of the one erected by Manasseh and his friends when
Oliver Cromwell permitted them to return to London after four
hundred years of exile. They were forced to wear yellow hats
at first, but that ordinance soon fell into disuse, like many other
abominable laws. When you read about mediæval laws, Fran-
cesca, remember that when they were cruel or stupid they were
seldom carried into effect, because the arm of the executive was
weak. Who was there to oblige the Jews to wear the yellow hat?
The police? There were no police. The people? What did the
people care about the yellow hat? When the Fire burned down
## p. 1851 (#41) ############################################
WALTER BESANT
1851
London, sparing not even the great Cathedral, to say nothing of
the Synagogue, this second Temple arose, equal in splendor to
the first. At that time all the Jews in London were Sephardim
of Spain and Portugal and Italy.
Even now there are many of
the people here who speak nothing among themselves but Span-
ish, just as there are Askenazim who speak nothing among them-
selves but Yiddish. Come with me; I will show you something
that will please you. "
He led the way into another flagged court, larger than the
first. There were stone staircases, mysterious doorways, paved
passages, a suggestion of a cloister, an open space or square,
and buildings on all sides with windows opening upon the court.
"It doesn't look English at all," said Francesca. "I have
seen something like it in a Spanish convent. With balconies and
a few bright hangings and a black-haired woman at the open
windows, and perhaps a coat of arms carved upon the wall, it
would do for part of a Spanish street. It is a strange place to
find in the heart of London. "
"You see the memory of the Peninsula. What were we say-
ing yesterday? Spain places her own seal upon everything that
belongs to her- people, buildings, all. What you see here is the
central Institute of our People, the Sephardim-the Spanish part
of our People. Here is our synagogue, here are schools, alms-
houses, residence of the Rabbi, and all sorts of things. You can
come here sometimes and think of Spain, where your ancestors
lived. Many generations in Spain have made you-as they have
made me a Spaniard. "
―
They went back to the first court. On their way out, as they
passed the synagogue, there came running across the court a girl
of fifteen or so. She was bareheaded; a mass of thick black hair
was curled round her shapely head; her figure was that of an
English girl of twenty; her eyes showed black and large and
bright as she glanced at the group standing in the court; her
skin was dark; she was oddly and picturesquely dressed in a
grayish-blue skirt, with a bright crimson open jacket. The color
seemed literally to strike the eye. The girl disappeared under a
doorway, leaving a picture of herself in Francesca's mind a
picture to be remembered.
"A Spanish Jewess," said Emanuel. "An Oriental. She
chooses by instinct the colors that her great-grandmother might
have worn to grace the triumph of David the King. "
## p. 1852 (#42) ############################################
1852
BESTIARIES AND LAPIDARIES
BY L. OSCAR KUHNS
NE of the marked features of literary investigation during
the present century is the interest which it has manifested
in the Middle Ages. Not only have specialists devoted
themselves to the detailed study of the Sagas of the North and the
great cycles of Romance in France and England, but the stories of
the Edda, of the Nibelungen, and of Charlemagne and King Arthur
have become popularized, so that to-day they are familiar to the
general reader. There is one class of literature, however, which was
widespread and popular during the Middle Ages, but which is to-day
known only to the student,- that is, the so-called Bestiaries and
Lapidaries, or collections of stories and superstitions concerning the
marvelous attributes of animals and of precious stones.
The basis of all Bestiaries is the Greek Physiologus, the origin of
which can be traced back to the second century before Christ. It
was undoubtedly largely influenced by the zoology of the Bible; and
in the references to the Ibex, the Phoenix, and the tree Paradixion,
traces of Oriental and old Greek superstitions can be seen.
It was
from the Latin versions of the Greek original that translations were
made into nearly all European languages. There are extant to-day,
whole or in fragments, Bestiaries in German, Old English, Old
French, Provençal, Icelandic, Italian, Bohemian, and even Armenian,
Ethiopic, and Syriac. These various versions differ more or less in
the arrangement and number of the animals described, but all point
back to the same ultimate source.
The main object of the Bestiaries was not so much to impart
scientific knowledge, as by means of symbols and allegories to teach
the doctrines and mysteries of the Church. At first this symbolical
application was short and concise, but later became more and more
expanded, until it often occupied more space than the description of
the animal which served as a text.
Some of these animals are entirely fabulous, such as the siren,
the phoenix, the unicorn; others are well known, but possess certain
fabulous attributes. The descriptions of them are not the result of
personal observation, but are derived from stories told by travelers
or read in books, or are merely due to the imagination of the author;
these stories, passing down from hand to hand, gradually became
accepted facts.
These books were enormously popular during the Middle Ages, a
fact which is proved by the large number of manuscripts still extant.
## p. 1853 (#43) ############################################
BESTIARIES AND LAPIDARIES
1853
Their influence on literature was likewise very great. To say noth-
ing of the encyclopædic works,- such as 'Li Tresors' of Brunetto
Latini, the 'Image du Monde,' the 'Roman de la Rose,'—which con-
tain extracts from the Bestiaries,— there are many references to them
in the great writers, even down to the present day. There are
certain passages in Dante, Chaucer, and Shakespeare, that would be
unintelligible without some knowledge of these medieval books of
zoölogy.
Hence, besides the interest inherent in these quaint and childish
stories, besides their value in revealing the scientific spirit and
attainments of the times, some knowledge of the Bestiaries is of
undoubted value and interest to the student of literature.
Closely allied to the Bestiaries (and indeed often contained in the
same manuscript) are the Lapidaries, in which are discussed the
various kinds of precious stones, with their physical characteristics,-
shape, size, color, their use in medicine, and their marvelous talis-
manic properties. In spite of the fact that they contain the most
absurd fables and superstitions, they were actually used as text-
books in the schools, and published in medical treatises. The most
famous of them was written in Latin by Marbode, Bishop of Rennes
(died in 1123), and translated many times into Old French and other
languages.
The following extracts from the Bestiaries are translated from 'Le
Bestiaire' of Guillaume Le Clerc, composed in the year 1210 (edited
by Dr. Robert Reinsch, Leipzig, 1890). While endeavoring to retain
somewhat of the quaintness and naïveté of the original, I have
omitted those repetitions and tautological expressions which are so
characteristic of mediæval literature. The religious application of the
various animals is usually very long, and often is the mere repetition
of the same idea. The symbolical meaning of the lion here given
may be taken as a type of all the rest.
4. Os CarKuhne.
## p. 1854 (#44) ############################################
1854
BESTIARIES AND LAPIDARIES
THE LION
IT
T IS proper that we should first speak of the nature of the lion,
which is a fierce and proud beast and very bold. It has three
especially peculiar characteristics. In the first place it always
dwells upon a high mountain. From afar off it can scent the
hunter who is pursuing it. And in order that the latter may not
follow it to its lair it covers over its tracks by means of its tail.
Another wonderful peculiarity of the lion is that when it sleeps
its eyes are wide open, and clear and bright. The third charac-
teristic is likewise very strange. For when the lioness brings
forth her young, it falls to the ground, and gives no sign of life
until the third day, when the lion breathes upon it and in this
way brings it back to life again.
The meaning of all this is very clear. When God, our Sov-
ereign father, who is the Spiritual lion, came for our salvation
here upon earth, so skillfully did he cover his tracks that never
did the hunter know that this was our Savior, and nature mar-
veled how he came among us. By the hunter you must under-
stand him who made man to go astray and seeks after him to
devour him. This is the Devil, who desires only evil.
When this lion was laid upon the Cross by the Jews, his ene-
mies, who judged him wrongfully, his human nature suffered
death. When he gave up the spirit from his body, he fell asleep
upon the holy cross. Then his divine nature awoke. This must
you believe if you wish to live again.
When God was placed in the tomb, he was there only three
days, and on the third day the Father breathed upon him and
brought him to life again, just as the lion did to its young.
THE PELICAN
THE
HE pelican is a wonderful bird which dwells in the region
about the river Nile. The written history* tells us that
there are two kinds,- those which dwell in the river and
eat nothing but fish, and those which dwell in the desert and eat
only insects and worms. There is a wonderful thing about the
pelican, for never did mother-sheep love her lamb as the pelican
*The reference here is probably to the Liber de Bestiis et Aliis Rebus'
of Hugo de St. Victor.
## p. 1855 (#45) ############################################
BESTIARIES AND LAPIDARIES
1855
loves its young.
When the young are born, the parent bird
devotes all his care and thought to nourishing them. But the
young birds are ungrateful, and when they have grown strong
and self-reliant they peck at their father's face, and he, enraged
at their wickedness, kills them all.
On the third day the father comes to them, deeply moved
with pity and sorrow. With his beak he pierces his own side,
until the blood flows forth. With the blood he brings back life
into the body of his young. "
THE
*
THE EAGLE
HE eagle is the king of birds.
When it is old it becomes
young again in a very strange manner. When its eyes are
darkened and its wings are heavy with age, it seeks out a
fountain clear and pure, where the water bubbles up and shines
in the clear sunlight. Above this fountain it rises high up into
the air, and fixes its eyes upon the light of the sun and gazes
upon it until the heat thereof sets on fire its eyes and wings.
Then it descends down into the fountain where the water is
clearest and brightest, and plunges and bathes three times, until
it is fresh and renewed and healed of its old age. †
The eagle has such keen vision, that if it is high up among
the clouds, soaring through the air, it sees the fish swimming
beneath it, in river or sea; then down it shoots upon the fish
and seizes and drags it to the shore. Again, if unknown to the
eagle its eggs should be changed and others put into its nest,—
when the young are grown, before they fly away, it carries them
up into the air when the sun is shining its brightest. Those
which can look at the rays of the sun, without blinking, it loves
and holds dear; those which cannot stand to look at the light, it
abandons, as base-born, nor troubles itself henceforth concerning
them.
*There are many allusions in literature to this story. Cf. Shakespeare,—
"Like the kind life-rendering pelican,
Repast them with my blood. "- Hamlet,' iv. 5.
"Those pelican daughters. "- Lear, iii. 4. Cf. also the beautiful metaphor
of Alfred de Musset, in his 'Nuit de Mai. '
"Bated like eagles having lately bathed. ”—‹1 Henry IV. ,) iv. 1.
"Nay, if thou be that princely eagle's bird,
Show thy descent by gazing 'gainst the sun. »(3 Henry VI. ,' ii. 1.
## p. 1856 (#46) ############################################
1856
BESTIARIES AND LAPIDARIES
THE PHOENIX
THE
HERE is a bird named the phoenix, which dwells in India and
is never found elsewhere. This bird is always alone and
without companion, for its like cannot be found, and there
is no other bird which resembles it in habits or appearance. *
At the end of five hundred years it feels that it has grown old,
and loads itself with many rare and precious spices, and flies
from the desert away to the city of Leopolis. There, by some
sign or other, the coming of the bird is announced to a priest of
that city, who causes fagots to be gathered and placed upon a
beautiful altar, erected for the bird. And so, as I have said, the
bird, laden with spices, comes to the altar, and smiting upon the
hard stone with its beak, it causes the flame to leap forth and
set fire to the wood and the spices. When the fire is burning
brightly, the phoenix lays itself upon the altar and is burned to
dust and ashes.
Then comes the priest and finds the ashes piled up, and sep-
arating them softly he finds within a little worm, which gives
forth an odor sweeter than that of roses or of any other flower.
The next day and the next the priest comes again, and on the
third day he finds that the worm has become a full-grown and
full-fledged bird, which bows low before him and flies away,
glad and joyous, nor returns again before five hundred years. †
THE ANT
HERE IS another kind of ant up in Ethiopia, which is of the
shape and size of dogs. They have strange habits, for they
scratch into the ground and extract therefrom great quan-
tities of fine gold. If any one wishes to take this gold from
them, he soon repents of his undertaking; for the ants run upon
him, and if they catch him they devour him instantly. The peo-
ple who live near them know that they are fierce and savage,
and that they possess a great quantity of gold, and so they
have invented a cunning trick. They take mares which have
*«Were man as rare as phoenix. "-(As You Like It,' iv. 3.
"But as when
The Bird of Wonder dies, the maiden phoenix,
Her ashes new create another heir. » (Henry VIII. , v. 5.
-
## p. 1857 (#47) ############################################
BESTIARIES AND LAPIDARIES
1857
On the
unweaned foals, and give them no food for three days.
fourth the mares are saddled, and to the saddles are fastened
boxes that shine like gold. Between these people and the ants
flows a very swift river. The famished mares are driven across
this river, while the foals are kept on the hither side. On the
other side of the river the grass is rich and thick. Here the
mares graze, and the ants seeing the shining boxes think they
have found a good place to hide their gold, and so all day long
they fill and load the boxes with their precious gold, till night
comes on and the mares have eaten their fill. When they hear
the neighing of their foals they hasten to return to the other
side of the river. There their masters take the gold from the
boxes and become rich and powerful, but the ants grieve over
their loss.
THE SIREN
HE siren is a monster of strange fashion, for from the waist
it is the most thing in the world, formed in
the shape of a woman. The rest of the body is like a fish
or a bird. So sweetly and beautifully does she sing that they
who go sailing over the sea, as soon as they hear the song, can-
not keep from going towards her. Entranced by the music, they
fall asleep in their boat, and are killed by the siren before they
can utter a cry. *
THE WHALE
I
'N THE sea, which is mighty and vast, are many kinds of fish,
such as the turbot, the sturgeon, and the porpoise. But
there is one monster, very treacherous and dangerous. In
Latin its name is Cetus. It is a bad neighbor for sailors. The
upper part of its back looks like sand, and when it rises from
the sea, the mariners think it is an island. Deceived by its
size they sail toward it for refuge, when the storm comes upon
them. They cast anchor, disembark upon the back of the whale,
cook their food, build a fire, and in order to fasten their boat
they drive great stakes into what seems to them to be sand.
* References to the siren are innumerable; the most famous perhaps is
Heine's 'Lorelei. Cf. also Dante, Purgatorio, xix. 19-20.
IV-117
## p. 1858 (#48) ############################################
1858
BESTIARIES AND LAPIDARIES
When the monster feels the heat of the fire which burns upon
its back, it plunges down into the depths of the sea, and drags
the ship and all the people after it.
When the fish is hungry it opens its mouth very wide, and
breathes forth an exceedingly sweet odor. Then all the little
fish stream thither, and, allured by the sweet smell, crowd into
its throat. Then the whale closes its jaws and swallows them
into its stomach, which is as wide as a valley. *
THE CROCODILE
THE
HE crocodile is a fierce beast that lives always beside the
river Nile. In shape it is somewhat like an ox; it is full
twenty ells long, and as big around as the trunk of a tree.
It has four feet, large claws, and very sharp teeth; by means of
these it is well armed. So hard and tough is its skin, that it
minds not in the least hard blows made by sharp stones. Never
was seen another such a beast, for it lives on land and in water.
At night it is submerged in water, and during the day it reposes
upon the land.
If it meets and overcomes a man, it swallows
him entire, so that nothing remains. But ever after it laments
him as long as it lives. The upper jaw of this beast is immova-
ble when it eats, and the lower one alone moves. No other liv-
ing creature has this peculiarity. The other beast of which I
have told you (the water-serpent), which always lives in the
water, hates the crocodile with a mortal hatred.
When it sees
the crocodile sleeping on the ground with its mouth wide open,
it rolls itself in the slime and mud in order to become more
slippery. Then it leaps into the throat of the crocodile and is
swallowed down into its stomach. Here it bites and tears its
way out again, but the crocodile dies on account of its wounds.
*«Who is a whale to virginity and devours up all the fry it finds. "-
All's Well that Ends Well,' iv. 3.
"Crocodile tears »
are proverbial.
Cf:
"As the mournful crocodile
With sorrow snares relenting passengers. "-(2 Henry VI. ,' iii. 1.
"Each drop she falls would prove a crocodile. ”—‹Othello,' iv. 1.
## p. 1859 (#49) ############################################
BESTIARIES AND LAPIDARIES
1859
THE TURTLE-DOVE
NOW
I must tell you of another bird which is courteous and
beautiful, and which loves much and is much loved.
This
is the turtle-dove. The male and the female are always
together in mountain or in desert, and if perchance the female
loses her companion never more will she cease to mourn for him,
never more will she sit upon green branch or leaf. Nothing in
the world can induce her to take another mate, but she ever
remains loyal to her husband. When I consider the faithfulness
of this bird, I wonder at the fickleness of man and woman.
Many husbands and wives there are who do not love as the
turtle-dove; but if the man bury his wife, before he has eaten
two meals he desires to have another woman in his arms. The
turtle-dove does not so, but remains patient and faithful to her
companion, waiting if haply he might return. *
THE MANDRAGORA
THE
HE mandragora is a wild plant, the like of which does not
exist. Many kinds of medicine can be made of its root;
this root, if you look at it closely, will be seen to have the
form of a man. The bark is very useful; when well boiled in
water it helps many diseases. The skillful physicians gather this.
plant when it is old, and they say that when it is plucked it
weeps and cries, and if any one hears the cry he will die. But
those who gather it do this so carefully that they receive no
evil from it. If a man has a pain in his head or in his body, or
in his hand or foot, it can be cured by this herb. If you take
this plant and beat it and let the man drink of it, he will fall
asleep very softly, and no more will he feel pain. There are
two kinds of this plant,-male and female. The leaves of both
are beautiful. The leaf of the female is thick like that of the
wild lettuce.
he brought his daughter, who walked on her hands and executed
astonishing capers; the gleeman, minstrel, or jongleur was al-
ready as disreputable as when we find him later on with his
ribauderie. Again, we play chess; so did our ancestors. We
gamble with dice; so did they. We feast and drink together;
so did they. We pass the time in talk; so did they. In a word,
as Alphonse Karr put it, the more we change, the more we
remain the same.
Out-of-doors, as Fitz-Stephen shows, the young men skated,
wrestled, played ball, practiced archery, held water tournaments,
baited bull and bear, fought cocks, and rode races. They were
## p. 1843 (#33) ############################################
WALTER BESANT
1843
also mustered sometimes for service in the field, and went forth
cheerfully, being specially upheld by the reassuring consciousness
that London was always on the winning side.
The growth of the city government belongs to the history
of London. Suffice it here to say that the people in all times.
enjoyed a freedom far above that possessed by any other city of
Europe. The history of municipal London is a history of con-
tinual struggle to maintain this freedom against all attacks, and
to extend it and to make it impregnable. Already the people
are proud, turbulent, and confident in their own strength. They
refuse to own any other lord but the king himself; there is no
Earl of London. They freely hold their free and open meetings,
their folk-motes, in the open space outside the northwest corner
of St. Paul's Churchyard. That they lived roughly, enduring
cold, sleeping in small houses in narrow courts; that they suf-
fered much from the long darkness of winter; that they were
always in danger of fevers, agues, "putrid" throats, plagues,
fires by night, and civil wars; that they were ignorant of letters,
-three schools only for the whole of London, all this may
very well be understood. But these things do not make men
and women wretched. They were not always suffering from pre-
ventable disease; they were not always hauling their goods out
of the flames; they were not always fighting. The first and
most simple elements of human happiness are three; to wit, that
a man should be in bodily health, that he should be free, that
he should enjoy the produce of his own labor. All these things
the Londoner possessed under the Norman kings nearly as much
as in these days they can be possessed. His city has always
been one of the healthiest in the world; whatever freedom
could be attained he enjoyed; and in that rich trading town all
men who worked lived in plenty.
The households, the way of living, the occupations of the
women, can be clearly made out in every detail from the Anglo-
Saxon literature. The women in the country made the garments,
carded the wool, sheared the sheep, washed the things, beat the
flax, ground the corn, sat at the spinning-wheel, and prepared
the food. In the towns they had no shearing to do, but all the
rest of their duty fell to their province. The English women
excelled in embroidery. "English" work meant the best kind of
work. They worked church vestments with gold and pearls and
precious stones. "Orfrey," or embroidery in gold, was a special
-
## p. 1844 (#34) ############################################
1844
WALTER BESANT
art. Of course they are accused by the ecclesiastics of an over-
weening desire to wear finery; they certainly curled their hair,
and, one is sorry to read, they painted, and thereby spoiled their
pretty cheeks. If the man was the hlaf-ord [lord],- -the owner
or winner of the loaf, -the wife was the hlaf-dig [lady], its dis-
tributor; the servants and the retainers were hlaf-oetas, or eaters
of it. When nunneries began to be founded, the Saxon ladies in
great numbers forsook the world for the cloister. And here they
began to learn Latin, and became able at least to carry on corre-
spondence specimens of which still exist-in that language.
Every nunnery possessed a school for girls. They were taught
to read and to write their own language and Latin, perhaps also
rhetoric and embroidery. As the pious Sisters were fond of
putting on violet chemises, tunics, and vests of delicate tissue,
embroidered with silver and gold, and scarlet shoes, there was
probably not much mortification of the flesh in the nunneries of
the later Saxon times.
This for the better class. We cannot suppose that the daugh-
ters of the craftsmen became scholars of the nunnery. Theirs
were the lower walks-to spin the linen and to make the bread
and carry on the housework.
## p. 1845 (#35) ############################################
WALTER BESANT
1845
"A
THE SYNAGOGUE
From The Rebel Queen': copyrighted 1893, by Harper and Brothers
"D'un jour intérieur je me sens éclairé,
Et j'entends une voix qui me dit d'espérer. ”— Lamartine.
RE you ready, Francesca ? »
――――
Nelly ran lightly down the narrow stairs, dressed for
Sabbath and Synagogue. She was dainty and pretty at all
times in the matter of dress, but especially on a summer day,
which affords opportunity for bright color and bright drapery and
an ethereal appearance. This morning she was full of color and
light. When, however, she found herself confronted with Fran-
cesca's simple gray dress, so closely fitting, so faultless, and her
black-lace hat with its single rose for color, Nelly's artistic sense
caused her heart to sink like lead. It is not for nothing that one
learns and teaches the banjo; one Art leads to another; she who
knows music can feel for dress. "Oh! " she cried, clasping her
hands. "That's what we can never do! "
"What?
"That fit! Look at me! Yet they call me clever. Clara gives
me the new fashions and I copy them, and the girls in our street
copy me
- poor things! —and the dressmaker comes to talk things
over and to learn from me. I make everything for myself. And
they call me clever! But I can't get near it; and if I can't
nobody can. "
A large detached structure of red brick stood east and west,
with a flat façade and round windows that bore out the truth of
the date 1700-carved upon the front. A word or two in that
square character-that tongue which presents so few attractions
to most of us compared with other tongues-probably corrobo-
rated the internal evidence of the façade and the windows.
"This is the synagogue," said Nelly. She entered, and turn-
ing to the right, led the way up-stairs to a gallery running along
the whole side of the building. On the other side was another
gallery. In front of both was a tolerably wide grill, through
which the congregation below could be seen perfectly.
"This is the women's gallery," whispered Nell-there were
not many women present. "We'll sit in the front. Presently
they will sing. They sing beautifully. Now they're reading
## p. 1846 (#36) ############################################
1846
WALTER BESANT
prayers and the Law.
They've got to read the whole Law
through once a week, you know. " Francesca looked curiously
through the grill. When one is in a perfectly strange place, the
first observations made are of small and unimportant things. She
observed that there was a circular inclosure at the east end, as if
for an altar; but there was no altar: two doors indicated a cup-
board in the wall. There were six tall wax-lights burning round
the inclosure, although the morning was fine and bright. At the
west end a high screen kept the congregation from the disturb-
ance of those who entered or went out. Within the screen was
a company of men and boys, all with their hats and caps on their
heads; they looked like the choir. In front of the choir was a
platform railed round. Three chairs were placed at the back of
the platform. There was a table covered with red velvet, on
which lay the book of the Law, a ponderous roll of parchment
provided with silver staves or handles. Before this desk or table
stood the Reader. He was a tall and handsome man, with black
hair and full black beard, about forty years of age. He wore a
gown and large Geneva bands, like a Presbyterian minister; on
his head he had a kind of biretta. Four tall wax candles were
placed round the front of the platform. The chairs were occu-
pied by two or three elders. A younger man stood at the desk
beside the Reader. The service was already begun-it was, in
fact, half over.
Francesca observed next that all the men wore a kind of
broad scarf, made of some white stuff about eight feet long and
four feet broad. Bands of black or blue were worked in the
ends, which were also provided with fringes. "It is the Talleth,"
Nelly whispered. Even the boys wore this white robe, the effect
of which would have been very good but for the modern hat, tall
or pot, which spoiled all. Such a robe wants a turban above it,
not an English hat. The seats were ranged along the synagogue
The place was not full, but there were a good
many worshipers. The service was chanted by the Reader. It
was a kind of chant quite new and strange to Francesca. Like
many young persons brought up with no other religion than
they can pick up for themselves, she was curious and somewhat
learned in the matter of ecclesiastical music and ritual, which she
approached, owing to her education, with unbiased mind. She
knew masses and anthems and hymns and chants of all kinds;
never had she heard anything of this kind before. It was not
east and west.
## p. 1847 (#37) ############################################
WALTER BESANT
1847
congregational, or Gregorian; nor was it repeated by the choir
from side to side; nor was a monotone with a drop at the
end; nor was it a florid, tuneful chant such as one may hear in
some Anglican services. This Reader, with a rich, strong voice,
a baritone of great power, took nearly the whole of the service
it must have been extremely fatiguing— upon himself, chanting
it from beginning to end. No doubt, as he rendered the read-
ing and the prayers, so they had been given by his ancestors in
Spain and Portugal generation after generation, back into the
times when they came over in Phoenician ships to the Cartha-
ginian colonies, even before the dispersion of the Ten Tribes.
It was a traditional chant of antiquity beyond record- not a
monotonous chant. Francesca knew nothing of the words; she
grew tired of trying to make out whereabouts on the page the
Reader might be in the book lent her, which had Hebrew on
one side and English on the other. Besides, the man attracted
her-by his voice, by his energy, by his appearance. She closed
her book and surrendered herself to the influence of the voice
and the emotions which it expressed.
There was no music to help him. From time to time the
men in the congregation lifted up their voices-not seemingly
in response, but as if moved to sudden passion and crying out
with one accord. This helped him a little, otherwise he was
without any assistance.
A great Voice. The man sometimes leaned over the Roll of
the Law, sometimes he stood upright, always his great Voice
went up and down and rolled along the roof and echoed along
the benches of the women's gallery. Now the Voice sounded a
note of rejoicing; now, but less often, a note of sadness; now
it was a sharp and sudden cry of triumph. Then the people
shouted with him- it was as if they clashed sword on shield
and yelled for victory; now it was a note of defiance, as when
men go forth to fight an enemy; now it sank to a murmur, as
of one who consoles and soothes and promises things to come;
now it was a note of rapture, as if the Promised Land was
already recovered.
-
Was all that in the Voice? Did the congregation, all sitting
wrapped in their white robes, feel these emotions as the Voice
thundered and rolled? I know not. Such was the effect pro-
duced upon one who heard this Voice for the first time. At first
it seemed loud, even barbaric; there was lacking something which
## p. 1848 (#38) ############################################
1848
WALTER BESANT
the listener and stranger had learned to associate with worship.
What was it? Reverence? But she presently found reverence
in plenty, only of a kind that differed from that of Christian
worship. Then the listener made another discovery. In this
ancient service she missed the note of humiliation. There was
no Litany at a Faldstool. There was no kneeling in abasement;
there was no appearance of penitence, sorrow, or the confession
of sins. The Voice was as the Voice of a Captain exhorting his
soldiers to fight. The service was warlike, the service of a peo-
ple whose trust in their God is so great that they do not need
to call perpetually upon Him for the help and forgiveness of
which they are assured. Yes, yes- she thought- this is the
service of a race of warriors; they are fighting men: the Lord is
their God; He is leading them to battle: as for little sins, and
backslidings, and penitences, they belong to the Day of Atone-
ment - which comes once a year. For all the other days in the
year, battle and victory occupy all the mind. The service of a
great fighting people; a service full of joy, full of faith, full of
assurance, full of hope and confidence-such assurance as few
Christians can understand, and of faith to which few Christians
can attain. Perhaps Francesca was wrong; but these were her
first impressions, and these are mostly true.
In the body of the synagogue men came late. Under one
gallery was a school of boys, in the charge of a graybeard, who,
book in hand, followed the service with one eye, while he
admonished perpetually the boys to keep still and to listen. The
boys grew restless; it was tedious to them -the Voice which
expressed so much to the stranger who knew no Hebrew at all
was tedious to the children; they were allowed to get up and
run into the court outside and then to come back again; nobody
heeded their going in and out. One little boy of three, wrapped,
like the rest, in a white Talleth, ran up and down the side aisle
without being heeded - even by the splendid Beadle with the
gold-laced hat, which looked so truly wonderful above the Ori-
ental Talleth. The boys in the choir got up and went in and
out just as they pleased. Nobody minded. The congregation,
mostly well-to-do men with silk hats, sat in their places, book in
hand, and paid no attention.
―――
Under the opposite gallery sat two or three rows of worship-
ers, who reminded Francesca of Browning's poem of St. John's
Day at Rome. For they nudged and jostled each other; they
## p. 1849 (#39) ############################################
WALTER BESANT
1849
whispered things; they even laughed over the things they whis-
pered. But they were clad like those in the open part in the
Talleth, and they sat book in hand, and from time to time they
raised their voices with the congregation. They showed no rev-
erence except that they did not talk or laugh loudly. They were
like the children, their neighbors, just as restless, just as unin-
terested, just as perfunctory. Well, they were clearly the poorer
and the more ignorant part of the community. They came here
and sat through the service because they were ordered so to do;
because, like Passover, and the Feast of Tabernacles, and the
Fast of Atonement, it was the Law of their People.
The women in the gallery sat or stood. They neither knelt
nor sang aloud; they only sat when it was proper to sit, or stood
when it was proper to stand. They were like the women, the
village women, in a Spanish or Italian church, for whom every-
thing is done. Francesca, for the moment, felt humiliated that
she should be compelled to sit apart from the congregation, railed
off in the women's gallery, to have her religion done for her,
without a voice of her own in it at all. So, I have heard, indig-
nation sometimes fills the bosom of certain ladies when they
reflect upon the fact that they are excluded from the choir, and
forbidden even to play the organ in their own parish church.
The chanting ceased; the Reader sat down. Then the Choir
began. They sang a hymn-a Hebrew hymn - the rhythm and
metre were not English; the music was like nothing that can be
heard in a Christian Church. "It is the music," said Nelly, "to
which the Israelites crossed the Red Sea:" a bold statement,
but - why not? If the music is not of Western origin and char-
acter, who can disprove such an assertion? After the hymn the
prayers and reading went on again.
There came at last-it is a long service, such as we poor
weak-kneed Anglicans could not endure- the end.
the end. There was a
great bustle and ceremony on the platform; they rolled up the
Roll of the Law; they wrapped it in a purple velvet cloth; they
hung over it a silver breastplate set with twelve jewels for the
Twelve Tribes-in memory of the Urim and Thummim. Fran-
cesca saw that the upper ends of the staves were adorned with
silver pomegranates and with silver bells, and they placed it in
the arms of one of those who had been reading the law; then a
procession was formed, and they walked, while the Choir sang
one of the Psalms of David-but not in the least like the same
-
## p. 1850 (#40) ############################################
1850
WALTER BESANT
Psalm sung in an English Cathedral-bearing the Roll of the
Law to the Ark, that is to say, to the cupboard, behind the rail-
ing and inclosure at the east end.
The Reader came back. Then with another chanted Prayer –
it sounded like a prolonged shout of continued Triumph — he
ended his part of the service.
And then the choir sang the last hymn-a lovely hymn, not
in the least like a Christian, or at least an English hymn-a
psalm that breathed a tranquil hope and a perfect faith. One
needed no words to understand the full meaning and beauty and
depth of that hymn.
The service was finished. The men took off their white scarfs
and folded them up. They stood and talked in groups for a few
minutes, gradually melting away. As for the men under the
gallery, who had been whispering and laughing, they trooped
out of the synagogue all together. Evidently, to them the serv-
ice was only a form. What is it, in any religion, but a form,
to the baser sort?
The Beadle put out the lights. Nelly led the way down the
stairs. Thinking of what the service had suggested to herself-
all those wonderful things above enumerated - Francesca won-
dered what it meant to a girl who heard it every Sabbath morn-
ing. But she refrained from asking. Custom too often takes
the symbolism out of the symbols and the poetry out of the
verse. Then the people begin to worship the symbols and make
a fetich of the words. We have seen this elsewhere-in other
forms of faith. Outside they found Emanuel. They had not
seen him in the congregation, probably because it is difficult to
recognize a man merely by the top of his hat.
"Come," he said, "let us look around the place.
Afterwards,
perhaps, we will talk of our Service. This synagogue is built on
the site of the one erected by Manasseh and his friends when
Oliver Cromwell permitted them to return to London after four
hundred years of exile. They were forced to wear yellow hats
at first, but that ordinance soon fell into disuse, like many other
abominable laws. When you read about mediæval laws, Fran-
cesca, remember that when they were cruel or stupid they were
seldom carried into effect, because the arm of the executive was
weak. Who was there to oblige the Jews to wear the yellow hat?
The police? There were no police. The people? What did the
people care about the yellow hat? When the Fire burned down
## p. 1851 (#41) ############################################
WALTER BESANT
1851
London, sparing not even the great Cathedral, to say nothing of
the Synagogue, this second Temple arose, equal in splendor to
the first. At that time all the Jews in London were Sephardim
of Spain and Portugal and Italy.
Even now there are many of
the people here who speak nothing among themselves but Span-
ish, just as there are Askenazim who speak nothing among them-
selves but Yiddish. Come with me; I will show you something
that will please you. "
He led the way into another flagged court, larger than the
first. There were stone staircases, mysterious doorways, paved
passages, a suggestion of a cloister, an open space or square,
and buildings on all sides with windows opening upon the court.
"It doesn't look English at all," said Francesca. "I have
seen something like it in a Spanish convent. With balconies and
a few bright hangings and a black-haired woman at the open
windows, and perhaps a coat of arms carved upon the wall, it
would do for part of a Spanish street. It is a strange place to
find in the heart of London. "
"You see the memory of the Peninsula. What were we say-
ing yesterday? Spain places her own seal upon everything that
belongs to her- people, buildings, all. What you see here is the
central Institute of our People, the Sephardim-the Spanish part
of our People. Here is our synagogue, here are schools, alms-
houses, residence of the Rabbi, and all sorts of things. You can
come here sometimes and think of Spain, where your ancestors
lived. Many generations in Spain have made you-as they have
made me a Spaniard. "
―
They went back to the first court. On their way out, as they
passed the synagogue, there came running across the court a girl
of fifteen or so. She was bareheaded; a mass of thick black hair
was curled round her shapely head; her figure was that of an
English girl of twenty; her eyes showed black and large and
bright as she glanced at the group standing in the court; her
skin was dark; she was oddly and picturesquely dressed in a
grayish-blue skirt, with a bright crimson open jacket. The color
seemed literally to strike the eye. The girl disappeared under a
doorway, leaving a picture of herself in Francesca's mind a
picture to be remembered.
"A Spanish Jewess," said Emanuel. "An Oriental. She
chooses by instinct the colors that her great-grandmother might
have worn to grace the triumph of David the King. "
## p. 1852 (#42) ############################################
1852
BESTIARIES AND LAPIDARIES
BY L. OSCAR KUHNS
NE of the marked features of literary investigation during
the present century is the interest which it has manifested
in the Middle Ages. Not only have specialists devoted
themselves to the detailed study of the Sagas of the North and the
great cycles of Romance in France and England, but the stories of
the Edda, of the Nibelungen, and of Charlemagne and King Arthur
have become popularized, so that to-day they are familiar to the
general reader. There is one class of literature, however, which was
widespread and popular during the Middle Ages, but which is to-day
known only to the student,- that is, the so-called Bestiaries and
Lapidaries, or collections of stories and superstitions concerning the
marvelous attributes of animals and of precious stones.
The basis of all Bestiaries is the Greek Physiologus, the origin of
which can be traced back to the second century before Christ. It
was undoubtedly largely influenced by the zoology of the Bible; and
in the references to the Ibex, the Phoenix, and the tree Paradixion,
traces of Oriental and old Greek superstitions can be seen.
It was
from the Latin versions of the Greek original that translations were
made into nearly all European languages. There are extant to-day,
whole or in fragments, Bestiaries in German, Old English, Old
French, Provençal, Icelandic, Italian, Bohemian, and even Armenian,
Ethiopic, and Syriac. These various versions differ more or less in
the arrangement and number of the animals described, but all point
back to the same ultimate source.
The main object of the Bestiaries was not so much to impart
scientific knowledge, as by means of symbols and allegories to teach
the doctrines and mysteries of the Church. At first this symbolical
application was short and concise, but later became more and more
expanded, until it often occupied more space than the description of
the animal which served as a text.
Some of these animals are entirely fabulous, such as the siren,
the phoenix, the unicorn; others are well known, but possess certain
fabulous attributes. The descriptions of them are not the result of
personal observation, but are derived from stories told by travelers
or read in books, or are merely due to the imagination of the author;
these stories, passing down from hand to hand, gradually became
accepted facts.
These books were enormously popular during the Middle Ages, a
fact which is proved by the large number of manuscripts still extant.
## p. 1853 (#43) ############################################
BESTIARIES AND LAPIDARIES
1853
Their influence on literature was likewise very great. To say noth-
ing of the encyclopædic works,- such as 'Li Tresors' of Brunetto
Latini, the 'Image du Monde,' the 'Roman de la Rose,'—which con-
tain extracts from the Bestiaries,— there are many references to them
in the great writers, even down to the present day. There are
certain passages in Dante, Chaucer, and Shakespeare, that would be
unintelligible without some knowledge of these medieval books of
zoölogy.
Hence, besides the interest inherent in these quaint and childish
stories, besides their value in revealing the scientific spirit and
attainments of the times, some knowledge of the Bestiaries is of
undoubted value and interest to the student of literature.
Closely allied to the Bestiaries (and indeed often contained in the
same manuscript) are the Lapidaries, in which are discussed the
various kinds of precious stones, with their physical characteristics,-
shape, size, color, their use in medicine, and their marvelous talis-
manic properties. In spite of the fact that they contain the most
absurd fables and superstitions, they were actually used as text-
books in the schools, and published in medical treatises. The most
famous of them was written in Latin by Marbode, Bishop of Rennes
(died in 1123), and translated many times into Old French and other
languages.
The following extracts from the Bestiaries are translated from 'Le
Bestiaire' of Guillaume Le Clerc, composed in the year 1210 (edited
by Dr. Robert Reinsch, Leipzig, 1890). While endeavoring to retain
somewhat of the quaintness and naïveté of the original, I have
omitted those repetitions and tautological expressions which are so
characteristic of mediæval literature. The religious application of the
various animals is usually very long, and often is the mere repetition
of the same idea. The symbolical meaning of the lion here given
may be taken as a type of all the rest.
4. Os CarKuhne.
## p. 1854 (#44) ############################################
1854
BESTIARIES AND LAPIDARIES
THE LION
IT
T IS proper that we should first speak of the nature of the lion,
which is a fierce and proud beast and very bold. It has three
especially peculiar characteristics. In the first place it always
dwells upon a high mountain. From afar off it can scent the
hunter who is pursuing it. And in order that the latter may not
follow it to its lair it covers over its tracks by means of its tail.
Another wonderful peculiarity of the lion is that when it sleeps
its eyes are wide open, and clear and bright. The third charac-
teristic is likewise very strange. For when the lioness brings
forth her young, it falls to the ground, and gives no sign of life
until the third day, when the lion breathes upon it and in this
way brings it back to life again.
The meaning of all this is very clear. When God, our Sov-
ereign father, who is the Spiritual lion, came for our salvation
here upon earth, so skillfully did he cover his tracks that never
did the hunter know that this was our Savior, and nature mar-
veled how he came among us. By the hunter you must under-
stand him who made man to go astray and seeks after him to
devour him. This is the Devil, who desires only evil.
When this lion was laid upon the Cross by the Jews, his ene-
mies, who judged him wrongfully, his human nature suffered
death. When he gave up the spirit from his body, he fell asleep
upon the holy cross. Then his divine nature awoke. This must
you believe if you wish to live again.
When God was placed in the tomb, he was there only three
days, and on the third day the Father breathed upon him and
brought him to life again, just as the lion did to its young.
THE PELICAN
THE
HE pelican is a wonderful bird which dwells in the region
about the river Nile. The written history* tells us that
there are two kinds,- those which dwell in the river and
eat nothing but fish, and those which dwell in the desert and eat
only insects and worms. There is a wonderful thing about the
pelican, for never did mother-sheep love her lamb as the pelican
*The reference here is probably to the Liber de Bestiis et Aliis Rebus'
of Hugo de St. Victor.
## p. 1855 (#45) ############################################
BESTIARIES AND LAPIDARIES
1855
loves its young.
When the young are born, the parent bird
devotes all his care and thought to nourishing them. But the
young birds are ungrateful, and when they have grown strong
and self-reliant they peck at their father's face, and he, enraged
at their wickedness, kills them all.
On the third day the father comes to them, deeply moved
with pity and sorrow. With his beak he pierces his own side,
until the blood flows forth. With the blood he brings back life
into the body of his young. "
THE
*
THE EAGLE
HE eagle is the king of birds.
When it is old it becomes
young again in a very strange manner. When its eyes are
darkened and its wings are heavy with age, it seeks out a
fountain clear and pure, where the water bubbles up and shines
in the clear sunlight. Above this fountain it rises high up into
the air, and fixes its eyes upon the light of the sun and gazes
upon it until the heat thereof sets on fire its eyes and wings.
Then it descends down into the fountain where the water is
clearest and brightest, and plunges and bathes three times, until
it is fresh and renewed and healed of its old age. †
The eagle has such keen vision, that if it is high up among
the clouds, soaring through the air, it sees the fish swimming
beneath it, in river or sea; then down it shoots upon the fish
and seizes and drags it to the shore. Again, if unknown to the
eagle its eggs should be changed and others put into its nest,—
when the young are grown, before they fly away, it carries them
up into the air when the sun is shining its brightest. Those
which can look at the rays of the sun, without blinking, it loves
and holds dear; those which cannot stand to look at the light, it
abandons, as base-born, nor troubles itself henceforth concerning
them.
*There are many allusions in literature to this story. Cf. Shakespeare,—
"Like the kind life-rendering pelican,
Repast them with my blood. "- Hamlet,' iv. 5.
"Those pelican daughters. "- Lear, iii. 4. Cf. also the beautiful metaphor
of Alfred de Musset, in his 'Nuit de Mai. '
"Bated like eagles having lately bathed. ”—‹1 Henry IV. ,) iv. 1.
"Nay, if thou be that princely eagle's bird,
Show thy descent by gazing 'gainst the sun. »(3 Henry VI. ,' ii. 1.
## p. 1856 (#46) ############################################
1856
BESTIARIES AND LAPIDARIES
THE PHOENIX
THE
HERE is a bird named the phoenix, which dwells in India and
is never found elsewhere. This bird is always alone and
without companion, for its like cannot be found, and there
is no other bird which resembles it in habits or appearance. *
At the end of five hundred years it feels that it has grown old,
and loads itself with many rare and precious spices, and flies
from the desert away to the city of Leopolis. There, by some
sign or other, the coming of the bird is announced to a priest of
that city, who causes fagots to be gathered and placed upon a
beautiful altar, erected for the bird. And so, as I have said, the
bird, laden with spices, comes to the altar, and smiting upon the
hard stone with its beak, it causes the flame to leap forth and
set fire to the wood and the spices. When the fire is burning
brightly, the phoenix lays itself upon the altar and is burned to
dust and ashes.
Then comes the priest and finds the ashes piled up, and sep-
arating them softly he finds within a little worm, which gives
forth an odor sweeter than that of roses or of any other flower.
The next day and the next the priest comes again, and on the
third day he finds that the worm has become a full-grown and
full-fledged bird, which bows low before him and flies away,
glad and joyous, nor returns again before five hundred years. †
THE ANT
HERE IS another kind of ant up in Ethiopia, which is of the
shape and size of dogs. They have strange habits, for they
scratch into the ground and extract therefrom great quan-
tities of fine gold. If any one wishes to take this gold from
them, he soon repents of his undertaking; for the ants run upon
him, and if they catch him they devour him instantly. The peo-
ple who live near them know that they are fierce and savage,
and that they possess a great quantity of gold, and so they
have invented a cunning trick. They take mares which have
*«Were man as rare as phoenix. "-(As You Like It,' iv. 3.
"But as when
The Bird of Wonder dies, the maiden phoenix,
Her ashes new create another heir. » (Henry VIII. , v. 5.
-
## p. 1857 (#47) ############################################
BESTIARIES AND LAPIDARIES
1857
On the
unweaned foals, and give them no food for three days.
fourth the mares are saddled, and to the saddles are fastened
boxes that shine like gold. Between these people and the ants
flows a very swift river. The famished mares are driven across
this river, while the foals are kept on the hither side. On the
other side of the river the grass is rich and thick. Here the
mares graze, and the ants seeing the shining boxes think they
have found a good place to hide their gold, and so all day long
they fill and load the boxes with their precious gold, till night
comes on and the mares have eaten their fill. When they hear
the neighing of their foals they hasten to return to the other
side of the river. There their masters take the gold from the
boxes and become rich and powerful, but the ants grieve over
their loss.
THE SIREN
HE siren is a monster of strange fashion, for from the waist
it is the most thing in the world, formed in
the shape of a woman. The rest of the body is like a fish
or a bird. So sweetly and beautifully does she sing that they
who go sailing over the sea, as soon as they hear the song, can-
not keep from going towards her. Entranced by the music, they
fall asleep in their boat, and are killed by the siren before they
can utter a cry. *
THE WHALE
I
'N THE sea, which is mighty and vast, are many kinds of fish,
such as the turbot, the sturgeon, and the porpoise. But
there is one monster, very treacherous and dangerous. In
Latin its name is Cetus. It is a bad neighbor for sailors. The
upper part of its back looks like sand, and when it rises from
the sea, the mariners think it is an island. Deceived by its
size they sail toward it for refuge, when the storm comes upon
them. They cast anchor, disembark upon the back of the whale,
cook their food, build a fire, and in order to fasten their boat
they drive great stakes into what seems to them to be sand.
* References to the siren are innumerable; the most famous perhaps is
Heine's 'Lorelei. Cf. also Dante, Purgatorio, xix. 19-20.
IV-117
## p. 1858 (#48) ############################################
1858
BESTIARIES AND LAPIDARIES
When the monster feels the heat of the fire which burns upon
its back, it plunges down into the depths of the sea, and drags
the ship and all the people after it.
When the fish is hungry it opens its mouth very wide, and
breathes forth an exceedingly sweet odor. Then all the little
fish stream thither, and, allured by the sweet smell, crowd into
its throat. Then the whale closes its jaws and swallows them
into its stomach, which is as wide as a valley. *
THE CROCODILE
THE
HE crocodile is a fierce beast that lives always beside the
river Nile. In shape it is somewhat like an ox; it is full
twenty ells long, and as big around as the trunk of a tree.
It has four feet, large claws, and very sharp teeth; by means of
these it is well armed. So hard and tough is its skin, that it
minds not in the least hard blows made by sharp stones. Never
was seen another such a beast, for it lives on land and in water.
At night it is submerged in water, and during the day it reposes
upon the land.
If it meets and overcomes a man, it swallows
him entire, so that nothing remains. But ever after it laments
him as long as it lives. The upper jaw of this beast is immova-
ble when it eats, and the lower one alone moves. No other liv-
ing creature has this peculiarity. The other beast of which I
have told you (the water-serpent), which always lives in the
water, hates the crocodile with a mortal hatred.
When it sees
the crocodile sleeping on the ground with its mouth wide open,
it rolls itself in the slime and mud in order to become more
slippery. Then it leaps into the throat of the crocodile and is
swallowed down into its stomach. Here it bites and tears its
way out again, but the crocodile dies on account of its wounds.
*«Who is a whale to virginity and devours up all the fry it finds. "-
All's Well that Ends Well,' iv. 3.
"Crocodile tears »
are proverbial.
Cf:
"As the mournful crocodile
With sorrow snares relenting passengers. "-(2 Henry VI. ,' iii. 1.
"Each drop she falls would prove a crocodile. ”—‹Othello,' iv. 1.
## p. 1859 (#49) ############################################
BESTIARIES AND LAPIDARIES
1859
THE TURTLE-DOVE
NOW
I must tell you of another bird which is courteous and
beautiful, and which loves much and is much loved.
This
is the turtle-dove. The male and the female are always
together in mountain or in desert, and if perchance the female
loses her companion never more will she cease to mourn for him,
never more will she sit upon green branch or leaf. Nothing in
the world can induce her to take another mate, but she ever
remains loyal to her husband. When I consider the faithfulness
of this bird, I wonder at the fickleness of man and woman.
Many husbands and wives there are who do not love as the
turtle-dove; but if the man bury his wife, before he has eaten
two meals he desires to have another woman in his arms. The
turtle-dove does not so, but remains patient and faithful to her
companion, waiting if haply he might return. *
THE MANDRAGORA
THE
HE mandragora is a wild plant, the like of which does not
exist. Many kinds of medicine can be made of its root;
this root, if you look at it closely, will be seen to have the
form of a man. The bark is very useful; when well boiled in
water it helps many diseases. The skillful physicians gather this.
plant when it is old, and they say that when it is plucked it
weeps and cries, and if any one hears the cry he will die. But
those who gather it do this so carefully that they receive no
evil from it. If a man has a pain in his head or in his body, or
in his hand or foot, it can be cured by this herb. If you take
this plant and beat it and let the man drink of it, he will fall
asleep very softly, and no more will he feel pain. There are
two kinds of this plant,-male and female. The leaves of both
are beautiful. The leaf of the female is thick like that of the
wild lettuce.
