R O M A N C E.
DR JOHNSON has defined Romance, in its primary sense, to be "a military fable of the middle ages; a tale of wild adventures in love and chivalry." But although this definition expresses correctly the ordinary idea of the word, it is not sufficiently comprehensive to answer our present purpose. A composition may be a legitimate romance, yet neither refer to love nor chivalry—to war nor to the middle ages. The "wild adventures" is almost the only absolutely essential ingredient in Johnson's definition. We would be rather inclined to describe a Romance as "a fictitious narrative in prose or verse; the interest of which turns upon marvellous and uncommon incidents;" being thus opposed to the kindred term Novel, which Johnson has described as "a smooth tale, generally of love;" but which we would rather define as "a fictitious narrative, differing from the romance, because accommodated to the ordinary train of human events, and the modern state of society." Assuming these definitions, it is evident, from the nature of the distinction adopted, that there may exist compositions which it is difficult to assign precisely or exclusively to the one class or other; and which, in fact, partake of the nature of both. But the distinction will be found broad enough to answer all general and useful purposes.
The word Romance, in its original meaning, was
far from corresponding with the definition now assigned. On the contrary, it signified merely one or other of the popular dialects of Europe, founded (as almost all these dialects were) upon the Roman tongue, that is, upon the Latin. The name of romance was indiscriminately given to the Italian, to the Spanish, even (in one remarkable instance at least)* to the English language. But it was especially applied to the compound language of France; in which the Gothic dialect of the Franks, the Celtic of the ancient Gauls, and the classical Latin, formed the ingredients. Thus Robert De Brunne:
"All is calde geste Inglis,
That en this language spoken is—
Frankis speech is called Romance,
So sayis clerks and men of France."
At a period so early as 1150, it plainly appears that the Romance Language was distinguished from the Latin, and that translations were made from the one into the other; for an ancient romance on the subject of Alexander, quoted by Fauchet, says it was written by a learned clerk,
"Qui de Latin la trest, et en Romson la mit."
The most noted romances of the middle ages were usually composed in the romance or French lan-
* This curious passage was detected by the industry of Ritson in Giraldus Cambrensis, "Ab aqua illa optima, quæ Scottice vocata est FROTH; Brittanice, WEIRD; Romane vero Scotte-Wattre." Here the various names assigned to the Frith of Forth are given in the Gaelic or Earse, the British or Welsh; and the phrase Roman is applied to the ordinary language of England. But it would be difficult to show another instance of the English language being termed Roman or Romance.
Romance. guage, which was, in a peculiar degree, the speech of love and chivalry; and those which are written in English always affect to refer to some French original, which usually, at least, if not in all instances, must be supposed to have a real existence. Hence the frequent recurrence of the phrase,
"As in romance we read;"
Or,
"Right as the romaunt us tells;"
and equivalent phrases, well known to all who have at any time perused such compositions. Thus, very naturally, though, undoubtedly, by slow degrees, the very name of romaunt, or romance, came to be transferred from the language itself to that peculiar style of composition in which it was so much employed, and which so commonly referred to it. How early, a transference so natural took place, we have no exact means of knowing; but the best authority assures us, that the word was used in its modern sense so early as the reign of Edward III. Chaucer, unable to sleep during the night, informs us, that, in order to pass the time,
"Upon my bed I sate upright;
A ROMAUNCE, and he me it took
To read and drive the night away."
The book described as a romance contained, as we are informed,
"_____ Fables
That clerks had, in old time,
And other poets, put in rhyme."
And the author tells us, a little lower,
"This book ne spake but of such things,
Of Queens' lives and of Kings."
The volume proves to be no other than Ovid's Metamorphosis; and Chaucer, by applying to it the name of romance, sufficiently establishes that the word was, in his time, correctly employed under the modern acceptation.
Having thus accounted for the derivation of the word, our investigation divides itself into three principal branches, though of unequal extent. In the FIRST of these we propose to inquire into the general History and Origin of this peculiar species of composition, and particularly of Romances relating to European Chivalry, which necessarily form the most interesting object of our inquiry; and in the SECOND, to give some brief account of the History of the Romance of Chivalry in the different states of Europe. THIRDLY, We propose to notice cursorily the various kinds of Romantic Composition by which the ancient romances of chivalry were followed and superseded, and with these notices to conclude the article.
General History of Romance. 1. In the views taken by Hurd, Percy, and other older authorities, of the origin and history of romantic fiction, their attentions were so exclusively fixed upon the romance of chivalry alone, that they seem to have forgotten that, however interesting and peculiar, it formed only one species of a very nu-
merous and extensive genus. The progress of romance, in fact, keeps pace with that of society, which cannot long exist, even in the simplest state, without exhibiting some specimens of this attractive style of composition. It is not meant by this assertion, that in early ages such narratives were invented, in the character of mere fictions, devised to pass away the leisure of those who have time enough to read and attend to them. On the contrary, romance and real history have the same common origin. It is the aim of the former to maintain as long as possible the mask of veracity; and indeed the traditional memorials of all earlier ages partake in such a varied and doubtful degree of the qualities essential to those opposite lines of composition, that they form a mixed class between them; and may be termed either romantic histories, or historical romances, according to the proportion in which their truth is debased by fiction, or their fiction mingled with truth.
A moment's glance at the origin of society will satisfy the reader why this can hardly be otherwise. The father of an isolated family, destined one day to rise from thence into a nation, may, indeed, narrate to his descendants the circumstances which detached him from the society of his brethren, and drove him to form a solitary settlement in the wilderness, with no other deviation from truth, on the part of the narrator, than arises from the infidelity of memory, or the exaggerations of vanity. But when the tale of the patriarch is related by his children, and again by his descendants of the third and fourth generation, the facts it contains are apt to assume a very different aspect. The vanity of the tribe augments the simple annals from one cause—the love of the marvellous, so natural to the human mind, contributes its means of sophistication from another—while, sometimes, the king and the priest find their interest in casting a holy and sacred gloom and mystery over the early period in which their power arose. And thus altered and sophisticated from so many different motives, the real adventures of the founder of the tribe bear as little proportion to the legend recited among his children, as the famous hut of Loretto bears to the highly ornamented church with which superstition has surrounded and encased it. Thus the definition which we have given of Romance as a fictitious narrative turning upon the marvellous or the supernatural, might, in a large sense, be said to embrace
_____ quicquid Gracia mendax
Audet in historia,
or, in fine, the mythological and fabulous history of all early nations.
It is also important to remark, that poetry, or rather verse—rythm at least of some sort or other, is originally selected as the best vehicle for these traditional histories. Its principal recommendation is probably the greater facility with which metrical narratives are retained in the memory—a point of the last consequence, until the art of writing is generally introduced; since the construction of the verse itself forms an artificial association with the sense, the one of which seldom fails to recall the other to recollection. But the medium of verse, at first adopted
Romance. merely to aid the memory, becomes soon valuable on account of its other qualities. The march or measure of the stanza is gratifying to the ear, and, like a natural strain of melody, can be restrained or accelerated, so as to correspond with the tone of feeling which the words convey; while the recurrence of the necessary measure rhythm, or rhyme, is perpetually gratifying the hearer by a sense of difficulty overcome. Verse being thus adopted as the vehicle of traditional history, there needs but the existence of a single man of genius, in order to carry the composition a step higher in the scale of literature than that of which we are treating. In proportion to the skill which he attains in his art, the fancy and ingenuity of the artist himself are excited; the simple narrative transmitted to him by ruder rhymers is increased in length; is decorated with the graces of language, amplified in detail, and rendered interesting by description; until the brief and barren original bears as little resemblance to the finished piece, as the Iliad of Homer to the evanescent traditions, out of which the blind bard wove his tale of Troy Divine. Hence the opinion expressed by the ingenious Percy, and assented to by Ritson himself. When about to present to his readers an excellent analysis of the old romance of Lybius Disconius, and making several remarks on the artificial management of the story, the Bishop observes, that "if an Epic poem may be defined a fable related by a poet to excite admiration and inspire virtue, by representing the action of some one hero favoured by Heaven, who executes a great design in spite of all the obstacles that oppose him, I know not why we should withhold the name of Epic Poem from the piece which I am about to analyse."
Yet although this levelling proposition has been laid down by Percy, and assented to by Ritson (writers who have few opinions in common), and although, upon so general a view of the subject, the Iliad, or even the Odyssey, of Homer might be degraded into the class of romances, as Le Beau Deconnu is elevated into that of epic poems, there lies in ordinary speech, and in common sense, as wide a distinction between these two classes of composition, as there is betwixt the rude mystery or morality of the middle ages, and the regular drama by which these were succeeded. Where the art and the ornaments of the poet chiefly attract our attention—where each part of the narrative bears a due proportion to the others, and the whole draws gradually towards a final and satisfactory conclusion—where the characters are sketched with force, and sustained with precision—where the narrative is enlivened and adorned with so much, and no more, of poetical ornament and description, as may adorn, without impeding its progress—where this art and taste is displayed, supported, at the same time, by a sufficient tone of genius, and art of composition, the work produced must be termed an Epic Poem, and the author may claim his seat upon the high and honoured seat occupied by Homer,
Romance. Virgil, and Milton. On the other hand, when a story languishes in tedious and minute details, and relies for the interest which it proposes to excite, rather upon the wild excursions of an unbridled fancy, than upon the skill of the poet—when the supernatural and the extraordinary are relied upon exclusively as the supports of the interest, the author, though his production may be distinguished by occasional flashes of genius, and though it may be interesting to the historian, as containing some minute fragments of real events, and still more so to the antiquary, from the light which it throws upon ancient manners, is still no more than a humble Romancer, and his work must rank amongst those rude ornaments of a dark age, which are at present the subject of our consideration. Betwixt the extremes of the two classes of composition, there must, no doubt, exist many works, which partake in some degree of the character of both; and after having assigned most of them each to their proper class, according as they are distinguished by regularity of composition and poetical talent, or, on the contrary, by extravagance of imagination, and irregularity of detail, there may still remain some, in which these properties are so equally balanced, that it may be difficult to say to which class they belong. But although this may be the case in a very few instances, our taste and habits readily acknowledge as complete and absolute a difference betwixt the Epopeia and Romance, as can exist betwixt two distinct species of the same generic class.
We have said of romance, that it first appears in the form of metrical history, professes to be a narrative of real facts, and is, indeed, nearly allied to such history as an early state of society affords; which is always exaggerated by the prejudices and partialities of the tribe to which it belongs, as well as deeply marked by their idolatry and superstition. These it becomes the trade of the romancers still more to exaggerate, until the thread of truth can scarce be discerned in the web of fable which involves it; and we are compelled to renounce all hope of deriving serious or authentic information from the materials upon which the compounders of fiction have been so long at work, from one generation to another, that they have at length obliterated the very shadow of reality or even probability.
The view we have given of the origin of romance will be found to agree with the facts which the researches of so many active investigators of this curious subject have been able to ascertain. It is found, for example, and we will produce instances in viewing the progress of romance in particular countries, that the earliest productions of this sort, known to exist, are short narrations or ballads, which were probably sung on solemn or festival occasions, recording the deeds and praises of some famed champion of the tribe and country, or perhaps the history of some remarkable victory or signal defeat, calculated to interest the audience by the associations
* Reliques of Ancient English Poetry, III. xxvii. The Prelate is citing a discourse on epic poetry, prefixed to Telemachus.
which the song awakens. These poems, of which very few can now be supposed to exist, are not without flashes of genius, but brief, rude, and often obscure, from real antiquity or affected sublimity of diction. The song on the battle of Brunanburgh, preserved in the Saxon Chronicle, is a genuine and curious example of this aboriginal style of poetry.
Even at this early period, * there may be observed a distinction betwixt what may be called the Temporal and Spiritual romances; the first destined to the celebration of worldly glory, the second to recording the deaths of martyrs and the miracles of saints; both which themes unquestionably met with an almost equally favourable reception from their hearers. But although most nations possess, in their early species of literature, specimens of both kinds of romance, the proportion of each, as was naturally to have been expected, differs according as the genius of the people amongst whom they occur leaned towards devotion or military enterprise. Thus, of the Saxon specimens of poetry, which manuscripts still afford us, a very large proportion is devotional, amongst which are several examples of the spiritual romance, but very few, indeed, of those respecting warfare or chivalry. On the other hand, the Norman language, though rich in examples of both kinds of romances, is particularly abundant in that which relates to battle and warlike adventure. The Christian Saxons had become comparatively pacific, while the Normans were certainly accounted the most martial people in Europe.
However different the spiritual romance may be from the temporal in scope and tendency, the nature of the two compositions did not otherwise greatly differ. The structure of verse and style of composition was the same; and the induction, even when the most serious subject was undertaken, exactly resembled that with which minstrels introduced their idle tales, and often contained allusions to them. Warton quotes a poem on the Passions, which begins,
I hereth one lutele tale, that Ich eu wille telle,
As wi vyndeth hit invrite in the godspelle,
Nuz hit necht of Carlemeyne ne of the Duzpere,
Ac of Criste's thruurynge, &c.
The temporal romances, on the other hand, often commenced by such invocations of the Deity, as would only have been in place when a much more solemn subject was to be agitated. The exordium of the Romance of Ferumbras may serve as an example of a custom almost universal:
God in glorie of mightir moost
That all things made in sapience,
By virtue of Word and Holy Gooste,
Giving to men great excellencie, &c.
The distresses and dangers which the knight endured for the sake of obtaining earthly fame and his mistress's favour, the saint or martyr was exposed to for the purpose of securing his rank in heaven, and
the favour of some beloved and peculiar patron saint. If the earthly champion is in peril from monsters, dragons, and enchantments, the spiritual hero is represented as liable to the constant assaults of the whole invisible world, headed by the ancient dragon himself. If the knight is succoured at need by some favouring fairy or protecting genius, the saint is under the protection not only of the whole heavenly host, but of some one divine patron or patroness who is his especial auxiliary. Lastly, the conclusion of the romance, which usually assigns to the champion a fair realm, an abundant succession, and a train of happy years, consigns to the martyr his fane and altar upon earth, and in heaven his seat among saints and angels, and his share in a blessed eternity. It remains but to say, that the style and language of these two classes do not greatly differ, and that the composers of both employ the same structure of rhythm and of language, and draw their ideas and their incidents from similar sources; so that, having noticed the existence of the spiritual romance, it is unnecessary for the present to prosecute this subject farther.
Another early and natural division of these works of fiction seems to have arranged them into Serious and Comical. The former were by far the most numerous, and examples of the latter are in most countries comparatively rare. Such a class, however, existed, as proper romances, even if we hold the comic romance distinct from the Contes and Fabliaux of the French, and from such jocular English narratives as the Wife Lapt in Moril's Skin, The Friar and the Boy, and similar humorous tales; of which the reader will find many examples in Ritson's Ancient English Poetry, and in other collections. The scene of these gestes being laid in low, or at least in ordinary life, they approach in their nature more nearly to the class of novels, and may perhaps be considered as the earliest specimens of that kind of composition. But the proper comic romance was that in which the high terms and knightly adventures of chivalry were burlesqued, by ascribing them to clowns or others of a low and mean degree. They formed, as it were, a parody on the serious romance, to which they bore the same proportion as the anti-masque, studiously filled with grotesque, absurd, and extravagant characters, "entering," as the stage direction usually informs us, "to a confused music," bore to the masque itself, where all was dignified, noble, stately, and harmonious.
An excellent example of the comic romance is the Tournament of Tottenham, printed in Percy's Reliques, in which a number of clowns are introduced practising one of these warlike games, which were the exclusive prerogative of the warlike and noble. They are represented making vows to the swan, the peacock, and the ladies; riding a tilt on their clumsy cart horses, and encountering each other with ploughshares and flails; while their defensive armour consisted of great wooden bowls and troughs, by way of helmets
* The religious romances of Barlaam and Jehosaphat were composed by John of Damascus in the eighth century.
and cuirasses. The learned editor seems to have thought this singular composition was like Don Quixote, with which he compares it, a premeditated effort of satire, written to expose the grave and fantastic manners of the serious romance. This is considering the matter too deeply, and ascribing to the author a more critical purpose than he was probably capable of conceiving. It is more natural to suppose that his only ambition was to raise a laugh, by ascribing to the vulgar the manners and exercises of the noble and valiant; as in the well known farce of High Life Below Stairs, the ridicule is not directed against the manners described, but against the menials who affect those that are only befitting their superiors. The Hunting of the Hare, published in the collection formed by the late industrious and accurate Mr. Weber, is a comic romance of the same order. A yeoman informs the inhabitants of a country hamlet that he has found a hare sitting, and invites them to come to course her. They attend, accordingly, with all the curs and mastiffs of their village, and the unsportsmanlike manner in which the inexperienced hunters and their irregular pack conduct themselves, forms the interest of the piece. It can hardly be supposed the satire is directed against the sport of hunting itself; since the whole ridicule arises out of the want of the necessary knowledge of its rules, incident to the ignorance and inexperience of the clowns who undertook to practise an art peculiar to gentlemen. The ancient poetry of Scotland furnishes several examples of this ludicrous style of romantic composition; as the Tournament at the Drum, and the Justing of Watson and Barbour, by Sir David Lindsay. It is probable that these mock encounters were sometimes acted in earnest; at least King James I. is accused of witnessing such practical jests; "sometimes presenting David Droman and Archie Armstrong, the king's fool, on the back of other fools, to tilt at one another till they fell together by the ears."—(Sir Antony Weldon's Court of King James.)
In hastily noticing the various divisions of the romance, we have in some degree delayed our promised account of its rise and progress; an inquiry which we mean chiefly to confine to the romance of the middle ages. For, although it be true that this species of composition is common to almost all nations, and that even if we deem the Iliad and Odyssey compositions too dignified by the strain of poetry in which they are composed to bear the name of metrical romances; yet we have the pastoral romance of Daphnis and Chloe, and the historical romance of Theagenes and Churiclea, which are sufficiently accurate specimens of that style of composition to which it is probable the Milesian fables and the romances of Antonius Diogenes, described by Photius, could they be recovered, would also be found to belong. It is impossible to avoid noticing that the Sybarites, whose luxurious habits seem to have been intellectual, as well as sensual, were peculiarly addicted to the perusal of the Milesian fables; from which we may conclude that they were not of that severe kind which inspired high thoughts and martial virtues. But there would be little advantage derived from extending our researches into the ages of classical antiquity respecting a class of compositions which,
though they existed then, as in almost every stage of society, were neither so numerous nor of such high repute as to constitute any considerable portion of their literature.
Want of space also may entitle us to dismiss the consideration of the Oriental romances, unless in so far as in the course of the middle ages they came to furnish materials for enlarging and varying the character of the romances of knight-errantry. That they existed early, and were highly esteemed both among the Persians and Arabians, has never been disputed; and the most interesting light has been lately thrown on the subject by the publication of Antar, one of the most ancient, as well as most rational, if we may use the phrase, of the Oriental fictions. The Persian romance of the Shahnamch is well known to Europeans by name, and by copious extracts; and the love-tale of Mejnoun and Leilah is also familiar to our ears, if not to our recollections. Many of the fictions in the extraordinary collection of the Arabian Tales approach strictly to the character of romances of chivalry; although in general they must be allowed to exceed the more tame northern fictions in dauntless vivacity of invention, and in their more strong tendency to the marvellous. Several specimens of the comic romance are also to be found mingled with those which are serious; and we have the best and most positive authority that the recital of these seductive fictions is at this moment an amusement as fascinating and general among the people of the East, as the perusal of printed romances and novels among the European public. But a minute investigation into this particular species of romance would lead us from our present field, already sufficiently extensive for the limits to which our plan confines it.
The European Romance, wherever it arises, and in whatsoever country it begins to be cultivated, had its origin in some part of the real or fabulous history of that country; and of this we will produce, in the sequel, abundant proofs. But the simple tale of tradition had not passed through many mouths, ere some one, to indulge his own propensity for the wonderful, or to secure by novelty the attention of his audience, augments the meagre chronicle with his own apocryphal inventions. Skirmishes are magnified into great battles; the champion of a remote age is exaggerated into a sort of demi-god; and the enemies whom he encountered and subdued are multiplied in number, and magnified in strength, in order to add dignity to his successes against them. Chaunted to rithmical numbers, the songs which celebrate the early valour of the fathers of the tribe become its war-cry in battle, and men march to conflict hymning the praises and the deeds of some real or supposed precursor who had marshalled their fathers in the path of victory. No reader can have forgotten that when the decisive battle of Hastings commenced, a Norman minstrel, Taillefer, advanced on horseback before the invading host, and gave the signal for onset, by singing the Song of Roland, that renowned nephew of Charlemagne, of whom romance speaks so much, and history so little; and whose fall, with the chivalry of Charles the Great in the pass of Roncesvalles, has given rise to such clouds of ro-
mantic fiction, that its very name has been for ever associated with it. The remarkable passage has been often quoted from the Brut of Wace, an Anglo-Norman metrical chronicle.
Taillefer, qui moult bien chantant
Sur un cheval gi tost alont,
Devant le Duc alont chantant
De Karlemagne et de Rollant,
Et d'Oliver et des vassals,
Qui morurent en Rencevals.
Which may be thus rendered,
Taillefer, who sung both well and loud,
Came mounted on a courser proud;
Before the Duke the minstrel sprung,
And loud of Charles and Roland sung,
Of Oliver and champions mo,
Who died at fatal Rencevals.
This champion possessed the sleight-of-hand of the juggler, as well as the art of the minstrel. He tossed up his sword in the air, and caught it again as he galloped to the charge, and showed other feats of dexterity. Taillefer slew two Saxon warriors of distinction, and was himself killed by a third. Ritson, with less than his usual severe accuracy, supposed that Taillefer sung some part of a long metrical romance upon Roland and his history; but the words chanson, cantilena, and song, by which the composition is usually described, seems rather to apply to a brief ballad or national song; which is also more consonant with our ideas of the time and place where it was chaunted.
But neither with these romantic and metrical chronicles did the mind long remain satisfied; more details were demanded, and were liberally added by the invention of those who undertook to cater for the public taste in such matters. The same names of kings and champions, which had first caught the national ear, were still retained, in order to secure attention, and the same assertions of authenticity, and of reference to real history, were stoutly made both in the commencement and in the course of the narrative. Each nation, as will presently be seen, came to adopt to itself a cycle of heroes like those of the Iliad; a sort of common property to all minstrels who chose to make use of them, under the condition always that the general character ascribed to each individual hero was preserved with some degree of consistency. Thus, in the romances of The Round Table, Gawain is uniformly represented as courteous; Kay as rude and boastful; Mordred as treacherous; and Sir Launcelot as a true though a sinful lover, and in all other respects a model of chivalry. Amid the Paladins of Charlemagne, whose cycle may be considered as peculiarly the property of French in opposition to Norman-Anglo romance, Gan, or Ganelon of Mayence, is represented as uniformly faithless, and engaged in intrigues for the destruction of Christianity; Roland as brave, unsuspecting, devotedly loyal, and somewhat simple in his disposition; Renaud, or Rinaldo, is painted with all the properties of a borderer, valiant, alert, ingenious, rapacious, and unscrupulous. The same con-
ventional distinctions may be traced in the history of the Nibelung, which has supplied matter for so many Teutonic adventurers. Meister Hildebrand, Etzel, Theodorick, and the champion Hogan, as well as Chrimhelda and the females introduced, have the same individuality of character, which is ascribed, in Homer's immortal writings, to the wise Ulysses, the brave but relentless Achilles, his more gentle friend Patroclus, Sarpedon, the favourite of the gods, and Hector, the protector of mankind. It was not permitted to the invention of a Greek poet to make Ajax a dwarf, or Teucer a giant, Thersites a hero, or Diomedes a coward; and it seems to have been under similar restrictions respecting consistency that the ancient romancers exercised their ingenuity upon the materials supplied them by their predecessors. But, in other respects, the whole store of romantic history and tradition was free to all as a joint stock in trade, on which each had a right to draw as suited his particular purposes. He was at liberty not only to select a hero out of known and established names which had been the theme of others, but to imagine a new personage of his own pure fancy, and combine him with the heroes of Arthur's Table or Charlemagne's Court, in the way which best suited his fancy. He was permitted to excite new wars against those bulwarks of Christendom, invade them with fresh and innumerable hosts of Saracens, reduce them to the last extremity, drive them from their thrones, and lead them into captivity, and again to relieve their persons, and restore their sovereignty, by events and agents totally unknown in their former story.
In the characters thus assigned to the individual characters of romantic fiction, it is possible there might be some slight foundation in remote tradition, as there were also probably some real grounds for the existence of such persons, and perhaps for a very few of the leading circumstances attributed to them. But these realities only exist as the few grains of wheat in the bushel of chaff, incapable of being winnowed out, or cleared from the mass of fiction with which each new romancer had in his turn overwhelmed them. So that romance, though certainly deriving its first original from the pure font of History, is supplied, during the course of a very few generations, with so many tributes from the Imagination, that at length the very name comes to be used to distinguish works of pure fiction.
When so popular a department of poetry has attained this decided character, it becomes time to inquire who were the composers of these numerous, lengthened, and once admired narratives which are called metrical romances, and from whence they drew their authority. Both these subjects of discussion have been the source of great controversy among antiquarians; a class of men who, be it said with their forgiveness, are apt to be both positive and polemical upon the very points which are least susceptible of proof, and which are least valuable if the truth could be ascertained; and which, therefore, we would gladly have seen handled with more diffidence, and better temper in proportion to their uncertainty.
The late venerable Dr Percy, Bishop of Dromore, The Minstrels.
Romance. led the way unwarily to this dire controversy, by ascribing the composition of our ancient heroic songs and metrical legends, in rather too liberal language, to the minstrels, that class of men by whom they were generally recited. This excellent person, to whose memory the lovers of our ancient lyre must always remain so deeply indebted, did not, on publishing his work nearly fifty years ago, see the rigid necessity of observing the utmost and most accurate precision either in his transcripts or his definitions. The study which he wished to introduce was a new one—it was his object to place it before the public in an engaging and interesting form; and, in consideration of his having obtained this important point, we ought to make every allowance, not only for slight inaccuracies, but for some hasty conclusions, and even exaggerations, with which he was induced to garnish his labour of love. He defined the minstrels, to whose labours he chiefly ascribed the metrical compositions on which he desired to fix the attention of the public, as "an order of men in the middle ages, who subsisted by the arts of poetry and music, and sung to the harp verses composed by themselves or others."* In a very learned and elegant essay upon the text thus announced, the reverend Prelate in a great measure supported the definition which he had laid down; although it may be thought that, in the first editions at least, he has been anxious to view the profession of the minstrels on their fairest and most brilliant side; and to assign to them a higher station in society than a general review of all the passages connected with them will permit us to give to a class of persons who either lived a vagrant life, dependent on the precarious taste of the public for a hard-earned maintenance, or, at best, were retained as a part of the menial retinue of some haughty baron, and in a great measure identified with his musical band.
The late acute, industrious, and ingenious Mr Joseph Ritson, whose severe accuracy was connected with an unhappy eagerness and irritability of temper, took advantage of the exaggerations occasionally to be found in the Bishop's Account of Ancient Minstrelsy, and assailed him with terms which may be termed any thing but courteous. Without finding an excuse either in the novelty of the studies in which Percy had led the way, or in the vivacity of imagination which he did not himself share, he proceeded to arraign each trivial inaccuracy as a gross fraud, and every deduction which he considered to be erroneous as a wilful untruth, fit to be stigmatized with the broadest appellation by which falsehood can be distinguished. Yet there is so little room for this extreme loss of temper, that, upon a recent perusal of both these ingenious essays, we were surprised to find that the reverend Editor of the Reliques, and accurate Antiquary, have differed so very little as, in essential facts, they appear to have done. Quotations are, indeed, made by both with no sparing hand, and hot arguments; and, on one side
at least, hard words are unsparingly employed; while, as is said to happen in theological polemics, the contest grows warmer in proportion as the ground concerning which it is carried on is narrower and more insignificant. In reality, their systems do not essentially differ.
Romance. Ritson is chiefly offended at the sweeping conclusion in which Percy states the minstrels as subsisting by the arts of poetry and music, and reciting to the harp verses composed by themselves and others. He shows very successfully that this definition is considerably too extensive, and that the term minstrel comprehended, of old, not merely those who recited to the harp or other instrument romances and ballads, but others who were distinguished by their skill in instrumental music only; and, moreover, that jugglers, sleight-of-hand performers, dancers, tumblers, and such like subordinate artists who were introduced to help away the tedious hours in an ancient feudal castle, were also comprehended under the general term of minstrel. But although he distinctly proves that Percy's definition applied only to one class of the persons termed minstrels, those namely who sung or recited verses, and in many cases of their own composition; the bishop's position remains unassailable, in so far as relates to one general class, and these the most distinguished during the middle ages. All minstrels did not use the harp, and recite or compose romantic poetry; but it cannot be denied that such was the occupation of the most eminent of the order. This Ritson has rather admitted than denied; and the number of quotations which his industry has brought together, rendered such an admission inevitable.
Indeed, the slightest acquaintance with ancient romances of the metrical class, shows us that they were composed for the express purpose of being recited, or, more properly, chaunted to some simple tune or cadence for the amusement of a large audience. Our ancestors, as they were circumscribed in knowledge, were also more limited in conversation than their enlightened descendants; and it seems probable, that, in their public festivals, there was great advantage found in the presence of a minstrel who should recite some popular composition on their favourite subjects of love and war, to prevent those pauses of conversation which sometimes fall heavily on a company, even of the present accomplished age, and to supply an agreeable train of ideas to those guests who had none of their own. It is, therefore, almost constantly insinuated, that the romance was to be chaunted or recited to a large and festive society, and in some part or other of the piece, generally at the opening, there is a request of attention on the part of the performer; and hence, the perpetual "Lythe and listen lordings free," which in those, or equivalent words, forms the introduction to so many romances. As, for example, in the old poem of Guy and Colbrand, the minstrel speaks of his own occupation:
* Essay on Ancient Minstrels in England, prefixed to the first volume of Bishop Percy's Reliques.
"When meat and drink is great plentye,
Then lords and ladies still will be,
And sit and solace lythe.
Then it is time for moe to speake,
Of kern knights and kempes grete,
Such carping for to kythe."
Chaucer, also, in his Ryme of Sir Thopas, assigns to the minstrels of his hero's household the same duty of reciting romances of spiritual or secular heroes, for the good knight's pastime while arming himself for battle:
"Do cum," he sayed, "my minstrelles,
And jestours for to tellen tales
Anon in min arming,
Of romances that ben reales,
Of popes and of cardinales,
And eke of love-longing."
Not to multiply quotations, we will only add one of some importance, which must have escaped Ritson's researches; for his editorial integrity was such, as rendered him incapable of suppressing evidence on either side of the question. In the old romance or legend of True Thomas and the Queen of Elfland, Thomas the Rhymer, himself a minstrel, is gifted by the Queen of the Faery with the faculties of music and song. The answer of Thomas is not only conclusive as to the minstrel's custom of recitation, but shows that it was esteemed the highest branch of his profession, and superior as such to mere instrumental music:
"To harp and carp Thomas wheresover ye gon,
Thomas take the these with the"
"Harping," he said, "ken I non,
For tong is chiefe of Mynstrals."
We, therefore, arrive at the legitimate conclusion, that although, under the general term minstrels, were comprehended many who probably entertained the public only with instrumental performances, with ribald tales, with jugglery, or farcical representations, yet one class amongst them, and that a numerous one, made poetical recitation their chief, if not their exclusive occupation. The memory of these men were, in the general case, the depository of the pieces which they recited; and hence, although many of their romances still survive, very many more have doubtless fallen into oblivion.
That the minstrels were also the authors of many of these poems, and that they altered and enlarged others, is a matter which can scarce be doubted, when it is proved that they were the ordinary reciters of them. It was as natural for a minstrel to become a poet or composer of romances, as for a player to be a dramatic author, or a musician a
composer of music. Whosoever, among a class, whose trade it was to recite poetry, felt the least degree of taste or enthusiasm in a profession so peculiarly calculated to inspire it, must, from that very impulse, have become an original author, or translator at least; thus giving novelty to his recitations, and acquiring additional profit and fame. Bishop Percy, therefore, states the case fairly in the following passage: "It can hardly be expected that we should be able to produce regular and unbroken annals of the minstrel art and its professors, or have sufficient information, whether every minstrel or bard composed himself, or only repeated, the songs he chaunted. Some probably did the one and some the other; and it would have been wonderful, indeed, if men, whose peculiar profession it was, and who devoted their time and talents to entertain their hearers with poetical compositions, were peculiarly deprived of all poetical genius themselves, and had been under a physical incapacity of composing those common popular rhymes, which were the usual subjects of their recitation."† While, however, we acquiesce in the proposition, that the minstrels composed many, perhaps the greater part of the metrical romances which they sung, it is evident they were frequently assisted in the task by others who, though not belonging to this profession, were prompted by leisure and inclination to enter upon the literary or poetical department as amateurs. These very often belonged to the clerical profession, amongst whom relaxation of discipline, abundance of spare time, and impatience of the routine of ceremonious duties often led individuals into worse occupations than the listening to or composing metrical romances. It was in vain that both the poems and the minstrels who recited them were, by statute, debarred from entering the more rigid monasteries. Both found their way frequently to the refectory, and were made more welcome than brethren of their own profession; as we may learn from a memorable Gest, in which two poor travelling priests, who had been received into a monastery with acclamation, under the mistaken idea of their being minstrels, are turned out in disgrace, when it is discovered that they were indeed capable of furnishing spiritual instruction, but understood none of the entertaining arts with which the hospitality of their convent might have been repaid by itinerant bards.
Nay, besides a truant disposition to a forbidden task, many of the grave authors may have alleged, in their own defence, that the connection between history and romance was not in their day entirely dissolved. Some eminent men exercised themselves in both kinds of composition; as, for example,
* Jamieson's Popular Ballads, Vol. II. p. 27.
† Essay on the Ancient Minstrels, p. 30.
Another authority of ancient date, the Chronicle of Bertrand Guesclin, distinctly attributes the most renowned romances to the composition of the minstrels by whom they were sung. As the passage will be afterwards more fully quoted, we must here only say, that after enumerating Arthur, Lancelot, Godfrey, Roland, and other champions, he sums up his account of them as being the heroes
"De quoi cils ministriers font les nobles romans."
Romance. Maître Wace, a canon of Caen, in Normandy, who, besides the metrical chronicle of Le Brut, containing the earliest history of England, and other historical legends, wrote, in 1155, the Roman de Chevalier de Lyon, probably the same translated under the title of Yvain and Gauvain. Lambert li Cors, and Benoît de Saint-Maur, seem both to have been of the clerical order; and, perhaps, Chrétien de Troyes, a most voluminous author of romance, was of the same profession. Indeed, the extreme length of many romances being much greater than any minstrel could undertake to sing at one or even many sittings, may induce us to refer them to men of a more sedentary occupation than those wandering poets. The religious romances were, in all probability, the works of such churchmen as might wish to reconcile an agreeable occupation with their religious profession. All which circumstances must be received as exceptions from the general proposition, that the romances in metre were the composition of the minstrels by whom they were recited or sung, though they must still leave Percy's proposition to a certain extent unimpeached.
Condition of the Minstrels. To explain the history of Romance, it is necessary to digress a little further concerning the condition of the minstrels by whom these compositions were often made, and, generally speaking, preserved and recited. And here, it must be confessed, the venerable Prelate has, perhaps, suffered his love of antiquity, and his desire to ennoble the productions of the middle ages a little to overcolour the importance and respectability of the minstrel tribe; although his opponent Ritson has, on the other hand, seized on all circumstances and inferences which could be adduced to prove the degradation of the minstrel character, without attending to the particulars by which these depreciating circumstances were qualified. In fact, neither of these excellent antiquarians has cast a general or philosophical glance on the necessary condition of a set of men who were by profession the instruments of the pleasure of others during a period of society such as was presented in the middle ages.
In a very early period of society, ere the division of ranks had been generally adopted, and while each tribe may be yet considered as one great family, and the nation as an union of such independent tribes, the poetical art, so nearly allied to that of oratory or persuasion, is found to ascertain to its professors a very high rank. Poets are the historians and often the priests of the tribe. Their command of language, then in its infancy, excites not merely pleasure but enthusiasm and admiration. When separated into a distinct class, as was the case with the Celtic Bards, and, perhaps, with the Skalds of Scandinavia, they rank high in the scale of society, and we not only find Kings and Nobles listening to them with admiration, but emulous of their art, and desirous to be enrolled among their numbers. Several of the most renowned northern Kings and Champions valued themselves as much upon their powers of poetry as on their martial exploits; and of the Welsh Princes, the Irish Kings, and the Highland Chiefs of Scotland very many practised the arts of poetry and music. Llward Hen was a Prince of the Cymraig,—Brian,
Boromhe, a harper and a musician,—and without resorting to the questionable authenticity of Ossian, several instances of the same kind might be produced in the Highlands.
Romance. But, in process of time, when the classes of society come to assume their usual gradation with respect to each other, the rank of professional poets is uniformly found to sink gradually in the scale, along with that of all others whose trade it is to contribute to the amusement of society. The mere professional poet, like the player or the musician, becomes the companion and soother only of idle and convivial hours; his presence would be unbecoming on occasions of gravity and importance; and his art is accounted at best an amusing but useless luxury. Although the intellectual pleasure derived from poetry or from the exhibition of the drama be of a different and much higher class than that derived from the accordance of sounds, or from the exhibition of feats of dexterity; still it will be found that the opinions and often the laws of society, while individuals of these classes are cherished and held in the highest estimation, has degraded the professions themselves among the idle, dissolute, and useless appendages of society. Although it may be accounted ungrateful in mankind thus to reward the instruments of their highest enjoyments, yet some justification is usually to be drawn from the manners of the classes who were thus lowered in public opinion. It must be remembered, that, as professors of this joyous science, as it was called, the minstrels stood in direct opposition to the more severe part of the Catholics, and to the monks in particular, whose vows bound them to practise virtues of the ascetic order, and to look upon every thing as profane which was connected with mere worldly pleasure. The manners of the minstrels themselves gave but too much room for clerical censure. They were the usual assistants at scenes, not merely of conviviality, but of licence; and as the companions and encouragers of revelling and excess, they became contemptible in the eyes, not only of the aged and the serious, but of the libertine himself, when his debauch palled on his recollection. The minstrels, no doubt, like their brethren of the stage, sought an apology in the corrupted taste and manners of their audience, with which they were obliged to comply, under the true but melancholy condition that
—they who live to please must please to live.
But this very necessity, rendered more degrading by their increasing numbers and decreasing reputation, only accelerated the total downfall of their order, and the general discredit and neglect into which they had fallen. The statute of the 39th Queen Elizabeth, passed at the close of the sixteenth century, ranks those dishonoured sons of song among rogues and vagabonds, and appoints them to be punished as such; and the occupation, though a vestige of it was long retained in the habits of travelling ballad-singers and musicians, sunk into total neglect and contempt. Of this we shall have to speak hereafter; our business being at present with those ro-
Romance. mances, which, while still in the zenith of their reputation, were the means by which the minstrels, at least the better and higher class among them, recommended themselves to the favour of their noble patrons, and of the audiences whom they addressed.
It may be presumed, that, although the class of minstrels, like all who merely depend upon gratifying the public, carried in their very occupation the evils which first infected, and finally altogether deprived their reputation; yet, in the earlier ages, their duties were more honourably estimated, and some attempts were made to introduce into their motley body the character of a regular establishment, subjected to discipline and subordination. Several individuals, both of France and England, bore the title of King of Minstrels, and were invested probably with some authority over the others. The Serjeant of Minstrels is also mentioned; and Edward IV. seems to have attempted to form a Guild or exclusive Corporation of Minstrels. John of Gaunt, at an earlier period, established (between jest and earnest, perhaps) a Court Baron of Minstrels, to be held at Tilbury. There is no reason, however, to suppose that the influence of their establishments went far in restraining the licence of a body of artists so unruly as well as numerous.
It is not, indeed, surprising that individuals, whose talents in the arts of music or of the stage rise to the highest order, should, in a special degree, attain the regard and affection of the powerful, acquire wealth, and rise to consideration; for, in such professions, very high prizes are assigned to pre-eminent excellence; while ordinary or inferior practisers of the same art may be said to draw in the lottery something more than a mere blank. Garrick, in his chariot, and whose company was courted for his wit and talent, was, after all, by profession, the same with the unfortunate Stroller, whom the British laws condemn as a vagabond, and to whose dead body other countries refuse even the last rites of Christianity. In the same manner it is easy to suppose that, when in compliance with the taste of their age, monarchs entertained their domestic minstrels, those persons might be admitted to the most flattering intimacy with their royal masters; sleep within the royal
chamber, † amass considerable fortunes, found hospitals, ‡ and receive rewards singularly over-proportioned to the perquisites of the graver professions; § and even practise in company with their royal masters the pleasing arts of poetry and music, which all are so desirous of attaining; || whilst, at the same time, those who ranked lower in the same profession were struggling with difficulty to gain a precarious subsistence, and incurring all the disgrace usually attached to a vagabond life and a dubious character. In the fine arts, particularly, excellence is demanded, and mere mediocrity is held contemptible; and, while the favour with which the former is loaded, sometimes seems disproportioned to the utility of the art itself, nothing can exceed the scorn poured out on those who expose themselves by undertaking arts which they are unable to practise with success. Self-conceit, however, love of an idle life, and a variety of combined motives, never fail to recruit the lower orders of such idle professions with individuals by whose performances, and often by their private characters, the art which they have rashly adopted can only be discredited without any corresponding advantage to themselves. It is not, therefore, surprising that, while such distinguished examples of the contrary appeared amongst individuals, the whole body of minstrels, with the romances which they composed and sung, should be reprobated by graver historians in such severe terms as often occur in the monkish chronicles of the day.
Respecting the style of their composition, Du Cange informs us, that the minstrels sometimes devoted their strains to flatter the great, and sing the praises of those Princes by whom they were protected; while he owns, at the same time, that they often recommended to their hearers the path of virtue and nobleness, and pointed out the pursuits by which the heroes of romance had rendered themselves renowned in song. ¶ He quotes from the romance of Bertrand Guesclin, the injunction on those who would rise to fame in arms to copy the valiant acts of the Paladins of Charles, and the Knights of the Round Table, narrated in romances; and it cannot be denied, that those high tales, in which the vir-
* Berdic (Regis Joculator), the jockey or minstrel of William the Conqueror, had, as appears from the Domesday record, three vills and five caracates of land in Gloucestershire without rent. Henry I. had a minstrel called Galfrid who received an annuity from the abbey of Hide.
† A minstrel of Edward I., during that prince's expedition to the Holy Land, slept within his tent, and came to his assistance when an attempt was made to assassinate him.
‡ The Priory and Hospital of Saint Bartholomew, in London, was founded in the reign of Henry I. by Royer or Raher, a minstrel of that prince.
§ In 1441, the monks of Maxlock, near Coventry, paid a donation of four shillings to the minstrels of Lord Clinton for songs, harping, and other exhibitions, while, to a doctor who preached before the community in the same year, they assigned only sixpence.
|| The noted anecdote of Blondel and his royal master, Richard Cœur de Lion, will occur to every reader.
¶ MINISTELLI dicti præsertim Scurrae, mimi, jocolatores, quos etiamnum vulgo Menestrea vel Menestriers, appellamus. Porro ejusmodi scurrarum erat Principes non suis duntaxat ludicris oblectare, sed et eorum aures variis avorum, adeoque ipsorum Principum laudibus, non sine assentatione, cum cantilenis et musicis instrumentis, demulcere. Interdum etiam virorum insignium et herorum gesta, aut explicata et jucunda narratione commemorabant, aut suavi vocis inflectione, fidibusque decantabant, quo sic dominorum, ceterorumque qui his intererant ludicris, nobilium animos ad virtutem capessendam et summorum virorum
ues of generosity, bravery, devotion to his mistress, and zeal for the Catholic religion, were carried to the greatest height of romantic perfection in the character of the hero, united with the scenes passing around them, were of the highest importance in affecting the character of the age. The fabulous knights of romance were so completely identified with those of real history, that graver historians quote the actions of the former in illustration of, and as a corollary to, the real events which they narrate. The virtues recommended in romance were, however, only of that overstrained and extravagant cast which consisted with the spirit of chivalry. Great bodily strength, and perfection in all martial exercises, was the universal accomplishment inalienable from the character of the hero, and which each romancer had it in his power to confer. It was also easily in the composer's power to devise dangers, and to free his hero from them by the exertion of valour equally extravagant. But it was more difficult to frame a story which should illustrate the manners as well as the feats of chivalry; or to devise the means of evincing that devotion to duty, and that disinterested desire to sacrifice all to faith and honour;—that noble spirit of achievement which laboured for others more than itself—which form, perhaps, the fairest side of the system under which the noble youths of the middle ages were trained up. The sentiments of chivalry, as we have explained in our article on that subject, were founded on the most pure and honourable principles, but unfortunately carried into hyperbole and extravagance; until their religion approached to fanaticism, their valour to frenzy, their ideas of honour to absurdity, their spirit of enterprise to extravagance, and their respect for the female sex to a sort of idolatry. All those extravagant feelings, which really existed in the society of the middle ages, were magnified and exaggerated by the writers and reciters of romance; and these given as resemblances of actual manners became, in their turn, the glass by which the youth of the age dressed themselves; while the spirit of chivalry and of romance thus gradually threw light upon and enhanced each other.
The romances, therefore, exhibited the same system of manners which existed in the nobles of the age. The character of a true son of chivalry was
raised to such a pitch of ideal and impossible perfection, that those who emulated such renown were usually contented to stop far short of the mark. The most adventurous and unshaken valour, a mind capable of the highest flights of romantic generosity, a heart which was devoted to the will of some fair idol, on whom his deeds were to reflect glory, and whose love was to reward all his toils,—these were attributes which all aspired to exhibit who sought to rank high in the annals of chivalry; and such were the virtues which the minstrels celebrated. But, like the temper of a tamed lion, the fierce and dissolute temper of the age often showed itself through the fair varnish of this artificial system of manners. The valour of the hero was often stained by acts of cruelty, or freaks of rash desperation; his courtesy and munificence became solemn foppery and wild profusion; his love to his lady often demanded and received a requital inconsistent with the honour of the object; and those who affected to found their attachment on the purest and most delicate metaphysical principles, carried on their actual intercourse with a licence altogether inconsistent with their sublime pretensions. Such were the real manners of the middle ages, and we find them so depicted in these ancient legends.
So high was the national excitement in consequence of the romantic atmosphere in which they seemed to breathe, that the knights and squires of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries imitated the wildest and most extravagant enterprises of the heroes of romance; and, like them, took on themselves the most extraordinary adventures to show their own gallantry, and do most honour to the ladies of their hearts. The females of rank, erected into a species of goddesses in public, and often degraded as much below their proper dignity in more private intercourse, equalled in their extravagances the youth of the other sex. A singular picture is given by Knyghton of the damsels errant who attended upon the solemn festivals of chivalry, in quest, it may reasonably be supposed, of such adventures as are very likely to be met with by such females as think proper to seek them. "These tournaments are attended by many ladies of the first rank and greatest beauty, but not always of the most untainted reputation. These ladies are dressed in party-coloured tunics,
imitationem accenderent: quod fuit olim apud Gallos Bardorum ministerium, ut auctor est Tacitus. Neque enim alios à Ministellis, veterum Gallorum Bardos fuisse pluribus probat Henricus Valesius ad 15. Ammiani.—Chronicon Bertrandi Guesclini:
Qui veut avoir renom des bons et des vaillans,
Il doit aler souvent à la pluie et au champ,
Et estre en la bataille, ainsi que fu Rollans,
Les quatre fils Haimon et Charlon li plus grans,
Li Dux Lions de Bourges, et Guion de Connans,
Percival li Galois, Lancelot et Tristans,
Alexandres, Artus, Godefroy li sachans,
De quoy cils Menestriers font les nobles Romans.
Barbour, the Scottish historian, censures a Highland chief, when, in commending the prowess of Bruce in battle, he likened him to the Celtic hero, Fin Mac Coul, and says, he might in more mannerly fashion have compared him to Gaudifer, a champion celebrated in the romance of Alexander.
one-half of one colour, and the other half of another; their lirrripes, or tippets, are very short; their caps remarkably little, and wrapt about their heads with cords; their girdles and pouches are ornamented with gold and silver; and they wear short swords, called daggers, before them, a little below their navels; they are mounted on the finest horses, with the richest furniture. Thus equipped, they ride from place to place in quest of tournaments, by which they dissipate their fortunes, and sometimes ruin their reputation."—(Knyghton, quoted in Henry's History, Vol. VIII. p. 402.)
The minstrels, or those who aided them in the composition of the romances, which it was their profession to recite, roused to rivalry by the unceasing demand for their compositions, endeavoured emulously to render them more attractive by subjects of new and varied interest, or by marvellous incidents which their predecessors were strangers to. Much labour has been bestowed, somewhat unprofitably, in endeavouring to ascertain the sources from which they drew the embellishments of their tales, when the hearers began to be tired of the unvaried recital of battle and tournament which had satisfied the simplicity of a former age. Percy has contended for the Northern Sagas as the unquestionable origin of the romance of the middle ages; Warton conceived that the Oriental fables, borrowed by those minstrels who visited Spain, or who in great numbers attended the crusades, gave the principal distinctive colouring to those remarkable compositions; and a later system, patronised by later authors, has derived them, in a great measure, from the fragments of classical superstition, which continued to be preserved after the fall of the Roman Empire. All those systems seem to be inaccurate, in so far as they have been adopted, exclusively of each other, and of the general proposition, That fables of a nature similar to the romances of chivalry, modified according to manners and state of society, must necessarily be invented in every part of the world, for the same reason that grass grows upon the surface of the soil in every climate and in every country. "In reality," says Mr Southey, who has treated this subject with his usual ability, "mythological and romantic tales are current among all savages of whom we have any full account; for man has his intellectual as well as his bodily appetites, and these things are the food of his imagination and faith. They are found wherever there is language and discourse of reason, in other words, wherever there is man. And in similar stages of civilization, or states of society, the fictions of different people will bear a corresponding resemblance, notwithstanding the difference of time and scene."
To this it may be added, that the usual appearances and productions of nature offer to the fancy, in every part of the world, the same means of diversifying fictitious narrative by the introduction of prodigies. If in any romance we encounter the description of an elephant, we may reasonably con-
clude that a phenomenon, unknown in Europe, must have been borrowed from the east; but whosoever has seen a serpent and a bird, may easily aggravate the terrors of the former by conferring on a fictitious monster the wings of the latter; and whoever has seen or heard of a wolf, or lion, and an eagle, may, by a similar exertion of invention, imagine a griffin or hippogriff. It is imputing great poverty to the human imagination, to suppose that the speciosa miracula, which are found to exist in different parts of the world, must necessarily be derived from some common source; and perhaps we should not err more grossly in supposing that the various kinds of boats, skiffs, and rafts, upon which men have dared the ocean on so many various shores, have been all originally derived from the vessel of the Argonauts.
On the other hand, there are various romantic incidents and inventions of a nature so peculiar, that we may boldly, and at once, refer them to some particular and special origin. The tale of Flora and Blanchefleur, for example, could only be invented in the east, where the scene is laid, and the manners of which are observed with some accuracy. That of Orfeo and Herodias, on the contrary, is the classical history of Orpheus and Euridice, with the Gothic machinery of the Elves or Fairies, substituted for the infernal regions. But notwithstanding these and many other instances in which the subjects or leading incidents of romance can be distinctly traced to British or Armoric traditions, to the tales and history of Classic Antiquity, to the wild fables and rich imagery of Arabia, or to those darker and sterner themes which were first treated of by the Skalds of the north, it would be assuming greatly too much upon such grounds, to ascribe the derivation of romantic fiction, exclusively to any one of these sources. In fact, the foundation of these fables lies deep in human nature, and the superstructures have been imitated from various authorities by those who, living by the pleasure which their lays of chivalry afforded to their audience, were especially anxious to recommend them by novelty of every kind; and were undoubtedly highly gratified when the report of travellers, or pilgrims, or perhaps their own intercourse with minstrels of other nations, enabled them to vary their usual narrations with circumstances yet unheard in Bower and Hall. Romance, therefore, was like a compound metal, derived from various mines, in which one metal or other was alternately predominant; and viewed in this light, the ingenious labours of those learned antiquaries, who have endeavoured to seek the origin of this style of fiction in one of these sources alone, to the exclusion of all others, seem as vain as that of travellers affecting to trace the proper head of the Nile to various different springs, all of which are allowed to be accessory to form the full majesty of his current.
As the fashion of all things pass away, the metrical romances began gradually to decline in public estimation, probably on account of the depreciated charac-
Romance. ter of the minstrels by whom they were recited. Tradition, says Ritson, is an alchemy, which converts gold into lead; and there is little doubt, that, in passing from mouth to mouth, and from age to age, the most approved metrical romances became gradually corrupted by the defect of memory of some reciters and the interpolations of others; since few comparatively can be supposed to have had recourse to the manuscripts in which some have been preserved. Neither were the reciters in the latter, as in the former times, supplied with new compositions of interest and merit. The composition of the metrical romance was gradually abandoned to persons of an inferior class. The art of stringing together in loose verse a number of unconnected adventures, was too easy not to be practised by many who only succeeded to such a degree as was discreditable to the art, by showing that mere mediocrity was sufficient to practise it. And the licentious character, as well as the great number of those who, under the various names of glee-men, minstrels, and the like, traversed the country, and subsisted by this idle trade, brought themselves and their occupation into still greater contempt and disregard. With them, the long recitations formerly made at the tables of the great, were gradually banished into more vulgar society.
But though the form of those narratives underwent a change of fashion, the appetite for the fictions themselves continued as ardent as ever; and the Prose Romances which succeeded, and finally superseded those composed in verse, had a large and permanent share of popularity. This was, no doubt, in a great degree owing to the important invention of printing, which has so much contributed to alter the destinies of the world. The metrical romances, though in some instances sent to the press, were not very fit to be published in this form. The dull amplifications which passed well enough in the course of a half-heard recitation, became intolerable when subjected to the eye; and the public taste gradually growing more fastidious as the language became more copious, and the system of manners more complicated, graces of style and variety of sentiment were demanded instead of a naked and unadorned tale of wonders. The authors of the prose romance endeavoured, to the best of their skill, to satisfy this newly awakened and more refined taste. They used, indeed, the same sources of romantic history which had been resorted to by their metrical predecessors; and Arthur, Charlemagne, and all their chivalry, were as much celebrated in prose as ever they had been in poetic narrative. But the new candidates for public favour pretended to have recourse to sources of authentic information, to which their metrical predecessors had no access. They refer almost always to Latin and sometimes to Greek originals, which certainly had no existence; and there is little doubt that the venerable names of the alleged authors are invented, as well as the supposed originals from which they are said to have translated their narratives. The following account of the discovery of La tres elegante delicieux melliflue et tres plaisante hystoire du tres Noble Roy Perceforest (printed at Paris in 1528 by Galliot du Pré), may serve to show that modern authors were not the first who invented the popular mode of introducing their works to
Romance. the world as the contents of a newly discovered manuscript. In the abridgment to which we are limited, we can give but a faint picture of the minuteness with which the author announces his pretended discovery, and which forms an admirable example of the lie with a circumstance. In the year 1286, Count William of Hainault had, it is averred, crossed the seas in order to be present at the nuptials of Edward, and in the course of a tour through Britain, was hospitably entertained at an abbey situated on the banks of the Humber, and termed, it seems, Burtimer, because founded by a certain Burtimericus, a monarch of whom our annals are silent, but who had gained, in that place, a victory over the heathens of Germany. Here a cabinet, which was inclosed in a private recess, had been lately discovered within the massive walls of an ancient tower, and was found to contain a Grecian manuscript, along with a royal crown. The abbot had sent the latter to King Edward, and the Count of Hainault with difficulty obtained possession of the manuscript. He had it rendered from Greek into Latin by a monk of the abbey of Saint Landelain, and from that language it is said to have been translated into French by the author, who gives it to the world in honour of the Blessed Virgin, and for the edification of nobleness and chivalry.
By such details, the authors of the prose romances endeavoured to obtain for their works a credit for authenticity which had been denied to the rhythical legends. But in this particular they did great injustice to their contemned predecessors, whose reputations they murdered in order to rob them with impunity. Whatever fragments or shadowings of true history may yet remain hidden under the mass of accumulated fable, which had been heaped on them during successive ages, must undoubtedly be sought in the metrical romances; and according to the view of the subject which we have already given, the more the works approach in point of antiquity to the period where the story is laid, the more are we likely to find those historical traditions in something approaching to an authentic state. But those who wrote under the imaginary names of Rusticien de Puise, Robert de Borron, and the like, usually seized upon the subject of some old minstrel; and, recomposing the whole narrative after their own fashion, with additional characters and adventures, totally obliterated in that operation any shades which remained of the original, and probably authentic tradition, which was the original source of the elaborate fiction. Amplification was especially employed by the prose romancers, who, having once got hold of a subject, seem never to have parted with it until their power of invention was completely exhausted. The metrical romances, in some instances, indeed, ran to great length, but were much exceeded in that particular by the folios which were written on the same or similar topics by their prose successors. Probably the latter judiciously reflected that a book which addresses itself only to the eyes, may be laid aside when it becomes tiresome to the reader; whereas it may not always have been so easy to stop the minstrel in the full career of his metrical declamation.
Who, then, the reader may be disposed to inquire,
can have been the real authors of those prolix works, who, shrouding themselves under borrowed names, derived no renown from their labours, if successful, and who, certainly, in the infant state of the press, were not rewarded with any emolument? This question cannot, perhaps, be very satisfactorily answered; but we may reasonably suspect that the long hours of leisure which the cloister permitted to its votaries, were often passed away in this manner; and the conjecture is rendered more probable, when it is observed that matters are introduced into those works which have an especial connection with sacred history, and with the traditions of the church. Thus, in the curious romance of Huon de Bourdeaux, a sort of second part is added to that delightful history, in which the hero visits the terrestrial paradise, encounters the first murderer Cain, in the performance of his penance, with more matter to the same purpose, not likely to occur to the imagination of a layman; besides, that the laity of the period were, in general, too busy and too ignorant to engage in literary tasks of any kind. The mystical portion of the romance of the Round Table seems derived from the same source. It may also be mentioned, that the audacious and sometimes blasphemous assertions, which claimed for these fictions the credit due even to the inspired writings themselves, were likely to originate amongst Roman Catholic churchmen, who were but too familiar with such forgeries for the purpose of authenticating the legends of their superstition. One almost incredible instance of this impious species of imposture occurs in the history of the Saint Graal, which curious mixture of mysticism and chivalry is ascribed by the unfearing and unblushing writer to the Second Person of the Trinity.
Churchmen, however, were by no means the only authors of these legends, although the Sires Clercs, as they were sometimes termed, who were accounted the chronicles of the times in which they lived, were usually in orders; and although it appears that it was upon them that the commands of the sovereigns whom they served often imposed the task of producing new romances under the usual disguise of ancient chronicles translated from the learned languages, or otherwise collected from the ruins of antiquity. As education became improved, and knowledge began to be more generally diffused, individuals among the laity, and those of no mean rank, began to feel the necessity, as it may be called, of putting into a permanent form the "thick-coming fancies" which gleam amongst the imagination of men of genius. Sir Thomas Malory, who compiled the Morte D'Arthur from French originals, was a person of honour and worship; and Lord Berners, the excellent translator of Froissart, and author of a romance called The Chevalier de la Cygne, is an illustrious example that a nobleman of high estimation did not think his time misemployed on this species of composition. Some literary fame must therefore have attended these efforts; and perhaps less eminent authors might, in the later ages, receive some pecuniary advantages. The translator of Perceforest, formerly mentioned, who appears to have been an Englishman or Fleming, in his address to the warlike
and invincibility of France, holds the language of a professional author, who expected some advantage besides that of pleasing those whom he addressed; and who expresses proportional gratitude for the favourable reception of his former feeble attempts to please them. It is possible, therefore, that the publishers, these lions of literature, had begun already to admit the authors into some share of their earnings. Other printers, like the venerable Caxton, compiled themselves, or translated from other languages, the romances which they sent to the press; thus uniting in their own persons the three separate departments of author, printer, and publisher.
The prose romance did not, in the general conduct of the story, where digressions are heaped on digressions, without the least respect to the principal narrative, greatly differ from that of their metrical predecessors, being, to the full, as tedious and unartificial; nay, more so in proportion as the new romances were longer than the old. In the transference from verse to prose, and the amplification which the scenes underwent in the process, many strong, forcible, and energetic touches of the original author have been weakened, or altogether lost; and the reader misses with regret some of the redeeming bursts of rude poetry which, in the metrical romance, makes amends for many hundred lines of bald and rude versification. But, on the other hand, the prose romances were written for a more advanced stage of society, and by authors whose language was much more copious, and who certainly belonged to a more educated class than the ancient minstrels. Men were no longer satisfied with hearing of hard battles and direful wounds; they demanded, at the hand of those who professed to entertain them, some insight into nature, or at least into manners; some description of external scenery, and a greater regard to probability both in respect of the characters which are introduced, and the events which are narrated. These new demands the prose romances endeavoured to supply to the best of their power. There was some attention shown to relieve their story, by the introduction of new characters, and to illustrate these personages by characteristic dialogue. The lovers conversed with each other in the terms of metaphysical gallantry, which were used in real life; and from being a mere rhapsody of warlike feats, the romance began to assume the nobler and more artificial form of a picture of manners. It is in the prose folios of Lancelot du Lac, Perceforest, and others, that antiquarians find recorded the most exact accounts of fights, tournaments, feasts, and other magnificent displays of chivalric splendour; and as they descend into more minute description than the historians of the time thought worthy of their pains, they are a mine from which the painful student may extract much valuable information. This, however, is not the full extent of their merit. These ancient books, amid many pages of dull repetition and uninteresting dialect, and notwithstanding the languor of an unartificial, protracted, and confused story, exhibit from time to time passages of deep interest, and situations of much novelty, as well as specimens of spirited and masculine writing. The general reader, who dreads the labour of winnowing out these
Romance. valuable passages from the sterile chaff through which they are scattered, will receive an excellent idea of the beauties and defects of the romance from Tressan's Corps d'Extraits de Romans de Chevalrie, from Mr Ellis's Specimens of Early English Romances, and Mr Dunlop's History of Fiction.
These works continued to furnish the amusement of the most polished courts in Europe so long as the manners and habits of chivalry continued to animate them. Even the sagacious Catherine of Medicis considered the romance of Perceforest as the work best qualified to form the manners and amuse the leisure of a young prince; since she impressed on Charles IX. the necessity of studying it with attention. But by degrees the progress of new opinions in religion, the promulgation of a stricter code of morality, together with the important and animating discussions which began to be carried on by means of the press, diverted the public attention from these antiquated legends. The Protestants of England, and the Huguenots of France, were rigorous in their censure of books of chivalry, in proportion as they had been patronized formerly under the Catholic system; perhaps because they helped to arrest men's thoughts from more serious subjects of occupation. The learned Ascham thus inveighs against the romance of Morte D'Arthur, and at the same time acquaints us with its having passed out of fashion: "In our forefathers' tyme, when papistrie, as a standyng poole, covered and overflowed all Eng-lande, fewe bookes were read in our tongue, savyng certaine bookes of chevalrie, as they said for pastime and pleasure; which, as some say, were made in monasteries by idle monks, or wanton chanons. As for example, La Morte D'Arthur, the whole pleasure of which booke standeth in two speciall poyntes, in open manslaughter, and bold bawdrye: in which booke they counted the noblest knightes that do kill most men without any quarrell, and commit foulest adulteries by sutlest shifts; as Sir Launcelote, with the wife of King Arthur his master; Sir Tristram, with the wife of King Marke his uncle; Sir Lame-roche, with the wife of King Lote, that was his own aunt. This is good stuffe for wise men to laugh at, or honest men to take pleasure at: yet I know, when God's Bible was banished the court, and La Morte D'Arthur received into the prince's chamber."
The brave and religious La Noue is not more favourable to the perusal of romances than the learned Ascham; attributing to the public taste for these compositions the decay of morality among the French nobility. "The ancient fables whose relives doe yet remaine, namely, Lancelot of the Lake, Pierceforest, Tristan, Giron the Courteous, and such others, doe beare witness of this olde vanitie; herewith were men fed for the space of 500 yeeres, untill our language growing more polished, and our minds more ticklish, they were driven to invent some nouelties wherewith to delight us. Thus came ye bookes of Amadis into
light among us in this last age. But to say ye truth, Spaine bred the, and France newclothed the in gay garments. In ye daies of Henrie the Second did they beare chiefest sway, and I think if any man would then have reproved the, he should have bene spit at, because they were of themselves playfellows and maintainers to a great sort of persons; whereof some, after they had learned to amaze in speech, their teeth watered, so desirous were they even to taste of some small morsels of the delicacies therein most livelie and naturally represented."† The gallant Marechal proceeds at considerable length to refute the arguments of those who contended that these books were intended as a spur to the practice of arms and honourable exercises amongst youth, and labours hard to show that they teach dishonest practices both in love and in arms. It is impossible to suppress a smile when we find such an author as La Noue denouncing the introduction of spells, witchcrafts, and enchantments into these volumes, not because such themes are absurd and nonsensical, but because the representing such beneficent enchanters as Alquife and Urganda is, in fact, a vindication of those who traffic with the powers of darkness; and that those who love to read about sorceries and enchantments become, by degrees, familiarized with those devilish mysteries, and may at length be induced to have recourse to them in good earnest.
The romances of chivalry did not, however, sink into disrepute under the stern rebuke of religious puritans or severe moralists, but became gradually neglected as the customs of chivalry itself fell into disregard; when, of course, the books which breathed its spirit, and were written under its influence, ceased to produce any impression on the public mind, and, superseded by better models of composition, and overwhelmed with the ridicule of Cervantes, sunk by degrees into utter contempt and oblivion.
Other works of amusement, of the same general class, succeeded the proper romance of chivalry. Of these we shall take some notice hereafter; since we must here close our general view of the history of romance, and proceed briefly to give some account of those peculiar to the various European nations.
II. We can here but briefly touch upon a subject of great interest and curiosity, the peculiar character and tone, namely, which the romance of chivalry received from the manners and early history of the nations among whom it is found to exist; and the corresponding question, in what degree each appears to have borrowed from other countries the themes of their own minstrels, or to have made use of materials common to the whole.
Scandinavia, as was to be expected, may be safely considered as the richest country in Europe in ancient tales corresponding with the character of romance; sometimes composed entirely in poetry or rhythm, sometimes in prose, and much more frequent-
* Works of Roger Ascham, p. 254. 4to edition.
† The Politique and Militaire Discourses of the Lord De La Noue, pp. 87, 88. Quarto, Lond. 1587.
ly in a mixture of prose, narrative, and lyrical effusions. Their well-known Skalds or bards held a high rank in their courts and councils. The character of a good poet was scarce second to that of a gallant leader, and many of the most celebrated champions ambitiously endeavoured to unite both in their own persons. Their earlier Sagas or tales approach to the credit of real history, and were unquestionably meant as such, though, as usual at an early period, debased by the intermixture of those speciosa miracula which the love of the wonderful early introduces into the annals of an infant country. There are, however, very many of the sagas, indeed by far the greater number of those now known to exist, which must be considered as falling rather under the class of fictitious than of real narratives; and which, therefore, belong to our present subject of inquiry. The Omeyinger Saga, the Heimskringla, the Saga of Olaf Triggwason, the Eirbyggja Saga, and several others, may be considered as historical; whilst the numerous narratives referring to the history of the Nibelungen and Volsungen are as imaginary as the romances which treat of King Arthur and of Charlemagne. These singular compositions, short, abrupt, and concise in expression, full of bold and even extravagant metaphor, exhibiting many passages of forceful and rapid description, hold a character of their own; and while they remind us of the indomitable courage and patient endurance of the hardy Scandinavians, at once the honour and the terror of Europe, rise far above the tedious and creeping style which characterised the minstrel efforts of their successors, whether in France or England. In the pine forests also, and the frozen mountains of the north, there were nursed, amid the relics of expiring paganism, many traditions of a character more wild and terrible than the fables of classical superstition; and these the gloomy imagination of the skalds failed not to transfer to their romantic tales. The late spirit of inquiry which has been so widely spread through Germany, has already begun to throw much light on this neglected storehouse of romantic lore, which is worthy of much more attention than has yet been bestowed upon it in Britain. It must, however, be remarked, that although the north possesses champions and romances of its own, unknown to southern song, yet, in a later age, the inhabitants of these countries borrowed from the French minstrels some of their most popular subjects; and hence we find sagas on the subject of Sir Tristrem, Sir Percival, Sir Ywain, and others, the well-known themes of French and English romance. These, however, must necessarily be considered later in date, as well as far inferior in interest, to the sagas of genuine northern birth. Mr Ritson has indeed quoted their existence as depreciating the pretensions of the northern nations to the possession of poems of high antiquity of their own native growth. Had he been acquainted with the Norman-Kiempe-Datur, a large folio, printed at Stockholm in 1737, he would have been satisfied, that out of the numerous collection of legends respecting the achievements of Gothic champions, far the greater part are of genuine Norse origin; and although having many features in common with the romances of southern
chivalry, are, in other marked particulars, distinctly divided from that class of fictitious composition.
The country of Germany, lying contiguous to France, and constantly engaged in friendly and hostile intercourse with that great seat of romantic fiction, became, of course, an early partaker in the stores which it afforded. The Minnesingers of the Holy Empire were a race no less cherished than the Troubadours of Provence, or the Minstrels of Normandy; and no less active in availing themselves of their indigenous traditions, or importing those of other countries, in order to add to their stock of romantic fiction. Godfred of Strasburgh composed many thousand lines upon the popular subject of Sir Tristram; and others have been equally copious, both as translators and as original authors, upon various subjects connected with French romance; but Germany possessed materials, partly borrowed from Scandinavia, partly peculiar to her own traditional history, as well as to that of the Roman empire, which they applied to the construction of a cycle of heroes as famous in Teutonic song as those of Arthur and of Charlemagne in France and Britain.
As in all other cases of the kind, a real conqueror, the fame of whose exploits survived in tradition, was adopted as the central object, around whom were to be assembled a set of champions, and with whose history was to be interwoven the various feats of courage which they performed, and the adventures which they underwent. Theodorick King of the Goths, called in these romantic legends Diderick of Bern (i. e. Verona), was selected for this purpose by the German Minnesingers. Amongst the principal personages introduced are Ezzel, King of the Huns, who is no other than the celebrated Attila; and Gunter, King of Burgundy, who is identified with a Gunthar of history who really held that kingdom. The good knight Wolfram de Eschenbach seems to have been the first who assembled the scattered traditions and minstrel tales concerning these sovereigns into one large volume of German verse, entitled Helden-Buch, or the Book of Heroes. In this the author has availed himself of the unlimited licence of a romancer; and has connected with the history of Diderick and his chivalry a number of detached legends which had certainly a separate and independent existence. Such is the tale of Sigurd the Horny, which has the appearance of having originally been a Norse Saga. An analysis of this singular piece was published by Mr Weber, in a work entitled Illustrations of Northern Antiquities, from the earlier Teutonic and Scandinavian Romances; and the subject has been fully illustrated by the publications of the learned Von der Hagen in Germany, and those of the Honourable William Herbert.
It is here only necessary to say, that Theodorick, like Charlemagne and Arthur, is considered in the romance as a monarch more celebrated for the valorous achievements of the brotherhood of chivalry whom he has drawn around him than for his own, though neither deficient in strength or courage. His principal followers have each their discriminatory and peculiar attributes. Meister Hildebrand, the Nestor of the band, is, like the Maugis of Charle-
Romance. Charlemagne's heroes, a magician as well as a champion. Hogan, or Hagan, begot betwixt a mortal and a sea-goblin, is the fierce Achilles of the confederation. It is the uniform custom of the romancers to conclude by a general and overwhelming catastrophe, which destroys the whole ring of chivalry whose feats they had commemorated. The ruin which Roncesvalles brought to the Paladins of Charlemagne, and the fatal battle of Camlan to the Knights of the Round Table, fell upon the warriors of Diderick through the revengful treachery of Crimhilda, the wife of Ezzel; who, in revenge for the death of her first husband, and in her inordinate desire to possess the treasures of the Niflunga or Burgundians, brought destruction on all these celebrated champions. Mr Weber observes that these German fictions differ from the romances of French chivalry, in the greater ferocity and less refinement of sentiment ascribed to the heroes; and also in their employing to a great extent the machinery of the Duergar, or Dwarfs, a subterranean people to whom the Helden-Buch ascribes much strength and subtlety, as well as profound skill in the magic art; and who seem, to a certain extent, the predecessors of the European fairy.
Italian Romance. Italy, so long the seat of classical learning, and where that learning was first revived, seems never to have strongly embraced the taste for the Gothic romance. They received, indeed, the forms and institutions of chivalry, but the Italians seem to have been in a considerable degree strangers to its spirit, nor to have become deeply enamoured of its literature. There is an old romance of chivalry proper to Italy, called Guerino the Wretched, but we doubt if even this be of indigenous growth. Indeed, when they did adopt from the French the fashionable tales of Charlemagne and his Paladins, they did not attract the attention of the classical Italians, until Boiardo, Berni, Pulci, and, above all, the divine Ariosto, condescended to use them as the basis of their well-known romantic poems; and thus the fictitious narratives originally composed in metre, and after re-written in prose, were anew decorated with the honours of verse. The romantic poets of Italy did not even disdain to imitate the rambling, diffuse, and episodic style proper to the old romance; and Ariosto, in particular, although he torments the reader's attention by digressing from one adventure to another, delights us, upon frequent perusals, by the extreme ingenuity with which he gathers up the broken ends of his narrative, and finally weaves them all handsomely together in the same piece. But the merits and faults of romantic poetry form themselves the fruitful subject of a long essay. We here only notice the origin of those celebrated works, as a species of composition arising out of the old romance, though surpassing it in regularity, as well as in all the beauties of style and diction.
Spanish and Portuguese Romance. With Spain the idea of romance was particularly connected; and the associations which are formed upon perusing the immortal work of Cervantes, induce us for a long time to believe that the country of Don Quixote must be the very cradle of romantic fiction. Yet, if we speak of priority of date, Spain
was among the last nations in Europe with whom romance became popular. It was not indeed possible that, among a people speaking so noble and poetical a language, engaged in constant wars, which called forth at once their courage and their genius, there should not exist many historical and romantic ballads descriptive of their encounters with the Moors. But their native poets seem to have been too much engaged with the events of their own age, or of that which had just preceded them, to permit of their seeking subjects in the regions of pure fiction; and we have not heard of a Spanish metrical romance, unless the poems describing the adventures of the Cid, should be supposed to have any affinity to that class of composition. The Peninsula, however, though late in adopting the prevailing taste for romantic fiction, gave origin to one particular class, which was at least as popular as any which had preceded it. Amadis de Gaul, the production, it would seem, of Vasco de Lobeira, a Portuguese knight, who lived in the fourteenth century, gave a new turn to the tales of chivalry; and threw into the shade the French prose romances, which, until the appearance of this distinguished work, had been the most popular in Europe.
Romance. The author of Amadis, in order, perhaps, to facilitate the other changes which he introduced, and to avoid rushing against preconceived ideas of events or character, laid aside the worn-out features of Arthur and Charlemagne, and imagined to himself a new dynasty both of sovereigns and of heroes, to whom he ascribed a style of manners much more refined, and sentiments much more artificial, than had occurred to the authors of Percival or Perceforest. Lobeira had also taste enough to perceive, that some unity of design would be a great improvement on the old romance, where one adventure is strung to another with little connection from the beginning to the end of the volume; which thus concludes, not because the plot was wound up, but because the author's invention, or the printer's patience, was exhausted. In the work of the Portuguese author, on the contrary, he proposes a certain end, to advance or retard which all the incidents of the work have direct reference. This is the marriage of Amadis with Oriana, against which a thousand difficulties are raised by rivals, giants, sorcerers, and all the race of evil powers unfavourable to chivalry; whilst these obstacles are removed by the valour of the hero, and constancy of the heroine, succoured on their part by those friendly sages, and blameless sorceresses, whose intervention gave so much alarm to the tender-consciences De la Noue. Lobeira also displayed considerable attention to the pleasure which arises from the contrast of character; and to relieve that of Amadis, who is the very essence of chivalrous constancy, he has introduced Don Galaor, his brother, a gay libertine in love, whose adventures form a contrast with those of his more serious brother. Above all, the Amadis displays an attention to the style and conversation of the piece, which, although its effects are now exaggerated and ridiculous, was doubtless at the time considered as the pitch of elegance; and here were, for the first time, introduced those hyper-
bold compliments, and that inflated and complicated structure of language, the sense of which walks as in a masquerade.
The Amadis at first consisted only of four books, and in that limited shape may be considered as a very well conducted story; but additions were speedily made which extended the number to twenty-four; containing the history of Amadis subsequent to his obtaining possession of Oriana, and down to his death, as also of his numerous descendants. The theme was not yet exhausted; for, as the ancient romancers, when they commenced a new work, chose for their hero some newly invented Paladin of Charlemagne, or knight of King Arthur, so did their successors adopt a new descendant of the family of Amadis, whose genealogy was thus multiplied to a prodigious degree. For an account of Esplandian, Florimond of Greece, Palmerin of England, and the other romances of this class, the reader must be referred to the valuable labours of Mr Southey, who has abridged both Amadis and Palmerin with the most accurate attention to the style and manners of the original. The books of Amadis became so very popular, as to supersede the elder romances almost entirely, even at the court of France, where, according to La Noue, already quoted, they were introduced about the reign of Henry II. It was against the extravagance of these fictions in character, and in style, that the satire of Cervantes was chiefly directed; and almost all the library of Don Quixote belongs to this class of romances, which, no doubt, his adventures contributed much to put out of fashion.
In every point of view, France must be considered as the country in which chivalry and romance flourished in the highest perfection; and the originals of almost all the early romances, whether in prose or verse, whether relating to the history of Arthur or of Charlemagne, are to be found in the French language; and other countries possess only translations from thence. This will not be so surprising when it is recollected, that these earlier romances were written, not only for the use of the French, but of the English themselves, amongst whom French was the prevailing language during the reigns of the Anglo-Norman monarchs. Indeed, it has been ingeniously supposed, and not without much apparent probability, that the fame of Arthur was taken by the French minstrels for the foundation of their stories in honour of the English kings, who reigned over the supposed dominions of that British hero; while, on the other hand, the minstrels who repaired to the coast of France, celebrated the prowess of Charlemagne and his twelve peers as a subject more gratifying to those who sat upon his throne. It is, perhaps, some objection to this ingenious history, that, as we have already seen, the battle of Hastings was opened by a minstrel, who sung the war-song of Roland, the nephew of Charlemagne; so that the Norman duke brought with him to England the tales that are supposed, at a much later date, to have been revived to soothe the national pride of the French minstrels.
How the French minstrels came by the traditional relics concerning Arthur and Merlin, on which they wrought so long and so largely, must,
we fear, always remain uncertain. From the Saxons we may conclude they had them not; for the Saxons were the very enemies against whom Arthur employed his good sword excalibur, that is to say, if there was such a man, or such a weapon. We know, indeed, that the British, like all the branches of the Celtic race, were much attached to poetry and music, which the numerous relics of ancient poetry in Wales, Ireland, and the Highlands of Scotland, sufficiently evince. Arthur, a name famous among them, with some traditions concerning the sage Merlin, may have floated either in Armorica, or among the half-British of the borders of Scotland, and of Cumberland; and thus preserved, may have reached the ear of the Norman minstrels, either in their newly conquered dominions, or through their neighbours of Brittany. A theme of this sort once discovered, and found acceptable to the popular ear, gave rise, of course, to a thousand imitations; and gradually drew around it a cloud of fiction which, embellished by such poetry as the minstrels could produce, arranged itself by degrees into a system of fabulous history, as the congregated vapours touched by the setting sun, assume the form of battlements and towers. We know that the history of Sir Tristram, first versified by Thomas the Rymer of Ercildoun, was derived from Welsh traditions, though told by a Saxon poet. In fact, it may be easily supposed, that the romancers of that early period were more eager to acquire popular subjects than delicately scrupulous of borrowing from their neighbours; and when the foundation-stone was once laid, each subsequent minstrel brought his contribution to the building. The idea of an association of knights assembled around one mighty sovereign, was so flattering to all the ruling princes of Europe, that almost all of them endeavoured to put themselves at the head of some similar institution. The historical foundation of this huge superstructure is almost imperceptible. Mr Turner has shown that the evidence rather inclines to prove the actual existence of King Arthur; and the names of Gawain, his nephew, and of Genuera, his faithful spouse, of Mordred, and Merlin, was preserved by Welsh tradition. To the same source may be referred the loves of Tristram and Ysolde, which, although a separate story, has become, in the later romances, amalgamated with that of Arthur. But there can be little doubt that all beyond the bare names of the heroes owes its existence to the imagination of the romancers.
It might be thought that the romances referring to the feats of Charlemagne ought to contain more historical truth than those concerning Arthur; since the former relate to a well-known monarch and conqueror, the latter to a personage of a very doubtful and shadowy existence. But the romances concerning both are equally fabulous. Charles had, indeed, an officer named Roland, who was slain with other nobles in the field of Roncesvalles, fighting, not against the Saracens or Spaniards, but against the Gascons. This is the only point upon which the real history of Charlemagne coincides with that invented for him by romancers. Roland was Prefect of Bretagne, and his memory was long preserved in the war-song which bore his name. A fabulous chronicler, calling himself
Romance. Turpin, compiled, in or about the eleventh century, a romantic history of Charlemagne; but it may be doubted whether, in some instances, he has not availed himself of the fictions already devised by the early romancers, while to those who succeeded them his annals afforded matter for new fictions. The personal character of Charlemagne has suffered considerably in the hands of the romantic authors, although they exaggerated his power and his victories. He is represented as fond of flattery, irritable in his temper, ungrateful for the services rendered him by his most worthy Paladins, and a perpetual dupe to the treacherous artifices of Count Gai, or Ganelon, of Mayence; a renegade to whom the romancers impute the defeat at Roncesvalles, and all the other misfortunes of the reign of Charles. This unfavourable view of the Prince, although it may bear some features of royalty, neither resembles the real character of the conqueror of the Saxons and Lombards, nor can be easily reconciled with the idea, that he was introduced to flatter the personal vanity of the princes of the Valois race, by a portrait of their great predecessor.
The circumstance, that Roland was a lieutenant of Brittany, and the certainty that Marie borrowed from that country the incidents out of which she composed her lays, seems to fortify the theory, that the French minstrels obtained from that country much of their most valuable materials; and that, after all that has been said and supposed, the history of Arthur probably reached them through the same channel.
The Latin writers of the middle ages afforded the French romancers the themes of these metrical legends which they have composed on subjects of classical fame.
The honour of the prose romances of chivalry, exclusive always of the books of Amadis, belongs entirely to the French, and the curious volumes which are now the object of so much research amongst collectors, are almost universally printed at Paris.
English Romance. England, so often conquered, yet fated to receive an accession of strength from each new subjugation, cannot boast much of ancient literature of any kind; and, in the department of which we treat, was totally inferior to France. The Saxons had, no doubt, romances (taking the word in its general acceptation); and Mr Turner, to whose researches we are so much indebted, has given us the abridgment of one entitled Cædmon, in which the hero, whose adventures are told much after the manner of the ancient Norse Sagas, encounters, defeats, and finally slays an evil being called Grendel, who, except in his being subject to death, seems a creature of a supernatural description. But the literature of the Saxons was destroyed by the success of William the Conqueror, and the Norman knights and barons, among whom England was in a great measure divided, sought amusement, not in the lays of the vanquished, but in those composed in their own language. In this point of view, England, as a country, may lay claim to many of the French romances, which were written, indeed, in that language, but for the benefit of the court and nobles of England, by whom French was still spoken. When the two lan-
guages began to assimilate together, and to form the mixed dialect termed the Anglo-Norman, we have good authority for saying that it was easily applied to the purpose of romantic fiction, and recited in the presence of the nobility.
Robert de la Brunne, who composed his History of England about this time, has this remarkable passage, which we give, along with the commentary of the Editor of Sir Tristrem, as it is peculiarly illustrative of the subject we are inquiring into.
Als thai haf wryten and sayd
Haf I alle in myn Inglis layd,
In symple speche as I couthe,
That is lightest in manne's mouthe.
I made nocht for no disours,
Ne for no seggours, no harpours,
Bot for the luf of symple men,
That strange Inglis cannot ken;
For many it ere that strange Inglis,
In ryme wate never what it is;
And bot thai wist what it mente,
Ellis methought it were allo schente.
I made it not for to be praysed,
Bot at the lewed men were aysed.
If it were made in ryme couwee,
Or in strangere, or enterlace,
That rede Inglis it ere inowe
That couthe not have coppled a kowe.
That outher in couwee or in baston,
Suld suld haf ben fordon;
So that sele men that it herde
Suld not witte howe that it ferde.
I see in song, in sedgeyng tale,
Of Ercealdoune and of Kendale,
Non than wayis as thai thaim wrought,
And in ther saying it seems nocht,
That may thou here in Sir Tristrem,
Over gestes it has the steem,
Over all that is or was,
If men it sayd as made Thomas;
Bot I here it no man so say,
That of some copple som is away.
So thare fayre saying here before,
Is thare travalle here forborne;
Thai sayd it for pride and nobleye,
That were not suyke as thei.
And alle that thai willed overwhere,
Alle that like will now forfare.
Thai sayd it in so quaint Inglis,
That many wate not what it is.
Therefore heuyed wele the more
In strange ryme to travayle sore
And my wit was oure thynne;
So strange speche to travayle in;
And forsoth I couth nocht
So strange Inglis as thai wrought,
And men besought me many a tyme
To turne it bot in light ryme.
Thai seyde if I in strange ryme it turn,
To here it many on suld skorne;
For in it ere names fulle selcouthe,
That ere not used now in mouthe.
And therefore, for the commonalte,
That blythely wild listen to me,
On light lange I it began,
For luf of the lewed man.
"This passage requires some commentary, as the sense has been generally mistaken. Robert de Brunne does not mean, as has been supposed, that the minstrels who repeated Thomas's romance of Sir Tristrem, disguised the meaning by putting it into 'quainte Inglis'; but, on the contrary, that Kendal and Thomas of Ercealdoune did themselves use such 'quainte Inglis,' that those who repeated the
story were unable to understand it, or to make it intelligible to their hearers. Above all, he complains that, by writing an intricate and complicated stanza, as 'ryme cowee, strangere, or entrelacé,' it was difficult for the disceurs to recollect the poem; and of Sir Tristrem, in particular, he avers, that he never heard a perfect recital, because of some one 'copple' or stanza, a part was always omitted. Hence he argues at length, that he himself, writing not for the minstrel or harper, nor to acquire personal fame, but solely to instruct the ignorant in the history of their country, does well in chusing a simple structure of verse, which they can retain correctly on their memory, and a style which is popular and easily understood. Besides which, he hints at the ridicule he might draw on his poem, should he introduce the uncouth names of his personages into a courtly or refined strain of verse. They were
Great names, but hard in verse to stand.
While he arrogates praise to himself for his choice, he excuses Thomas of Ercealdoune and Kendale for using a more ambitious and ornate kind of poetry. They wrote for pride (fame) and for nobles, not such as these my ignorant hearers.*
If the editor of Sir Tristrem be correct in his commentary, there existed in the time of Thomas de Brunne minstrels or poets who composed English poetry to be recited in the presence of the great, and who, for that purpose, used a singularly difficult stanza, which was very apt to be mutilated in recitation. Sir Tristrem, even as it now exists, shows likewise that considerable art was resorted to in constructing the stanza, and has, from beginning to end, a concise, quaint, abstract turn of expression, more like the Saxon poetry than the simple, bold, and diffuse details of the French minstrel. Besides Sir Tristrem, there remain, we conceive, two other examples of "gestes written in quaint Inglis" composed, namely, according to fixed and complicated rules of verse, and with much attention to the language, though the effect produced is far from pleasing. They are both of Scottish origin, which may be explained, by recollecting that in the Saxon provinces of Scotland, as well as at the court, Norman was never used; and therefore it is probable that the English language was more cultivated in that country at an early period than in England itself, where it was for a long time superseded by that of the conquerors. These romances, entitled Sir Gawain, and Sir Gologras, and Sir Galeran of Galloway, have all the appearance of being original compositions, and display considerable poetical effort. But the uncouth use of words dragged in for the sake of alliteration, and used in secondary and oblique meanings, renders them extremely harsh in construction, as well as obscure in meaning.
In England it would seem that the difficulties pointed out by De la Brunne threw out of fashion this ornate kind of composition; and the English minstrels had no readier resource than translating from
the French, who supplied their language at the same time with the phrases of chivalry which did not exist in English. These compositions presented many facilities to the minstrel. He could, if possessed of the slightest invention, add to them at pleasure, and they might as easily be abridged when memory failed, or occasion required. Accordingly, translations from the French fill up the list of English romance. They are generally written in short lines rhyming together; though often, by way of variety, the third and sixth lines are made to rhyme together, and the poem is thus divided into stanzas of three couplets each. In almost all of these legends, reference is made to "the romance," that is, some composition in the French language, as to the original authority. Nay, which is very singular, tales where the subjects seem to be of English growth, seem to have yet existed in French ere they were translated into the language of the country to which the heroes belonged. This seems to have been the case with Hornchild, with Guy of Warwick, with Bevis of Hampton, all of which appear to belong originally to England; yet are their earliest histories found in the French language, or at least the vernacular versions refer to such for their authority. Even the romance of Richard, England's own Cœur de Lion, has perpetual references to the French original from which it was translated. It must naturally be supposed that these translations were inferior to the originals, and whether it was owing to this cause, or that the composition of these rhymes was attended with too much facility, and so fell into the hands of very inferior composers, it is certain, and is proved by the highest authority, that of Chaucer himself, that even in his time they had fallen into great contempt. The Rime of Sir Thopas, which that poet introduces as a parody, undoubtedly, of the rhythmic romances of the age, is interrupted by mine host Harry Bailly with the strongest and most energetic expressions of total and absolute contempt. But though the minstrels were censured by De la Brunne for lack of skill and memory, and the poems which they recited were branded as "drafty rhymings," by the far more formidable censure of Chaucer, their acceptance with the public in general must have been favourable, since, besides many unpublished volumes, the two publications of Ritson and Weber bear evidence of their popularity. Some original compositions doubtless occur among so many translations, but they are not numerous, and few have been preserved. The poem of Sir Eger and Sir Greme, which seems of Scottish origin, has no French original; nor has any been discovered either of the Squire of Low Degree, Sir Eglamour, Sir Pleindamour, or some others. But the French derivation of the two last names renders it probable that such may exist.
The minstrels and their compositions seem to have fallen into utter contempt about the time of Henry VIII. There is a piteous picture of their condition in the person of Richard Sheale, which it is impossible to read without compassion, if we con-
* Sir Tristrem, introduction, pp. lxi. lxii. lxiii. lxiv. lxv. Edin. 1804.
Romance. sider that he was the preserver at least, if not the author, of the celebrated heroic ballad of Chevy Chace, at which Sir Philip Sidney's heart was wont to beat as at the sound of a trumpet. This luckless minstrel had been robbed on Dunsmore Heath, and, shame to tell, he was unable to persuade the public that a son of the muses had ever been possessed of the twenty pounds which he averred he had lost. The account he gives of the effect upon his spirits is melancholy, and yet ridiculous enough.
After my robbery my memory was so decayde,
That I colde neather syng nor talke, my wyttis wer so dismayde.
My audacitie was gone, and all my myrry tawk,
Ther ys sum heare have seen me as myrry as a hawke;
But nowe I am so trublyde with phanis in my mynde,
That I cannot play the myrry knave, according to my kynd.
Yet to tak thought, I perseve, ys not the next waye
To bring me out of det, my creditors to paye.
I may well say that I hade but well hope,
For to lose about threscore pounde at a clape.
The losse of my mony did not greve me so sore,
But the talke of the pyppe dyde greve me moch mor.
Sum sayde I was not robde, I was but a lyeng knave.
Yt was not possible for a mynstrell so much mony to have;
In dede, to say the truthe, that ys ryght well knowene,
That I never had so moche mony of myn owene,
But I had frendds in London, whos namys I can declare,
That at all tyme wold lende me cc.lts. worth of ware,
And sum agayn such friendship I founde,
That they wold lend me in mony nyn or tene pownde.
The occasion why I cam in dete I shall make relacion,
My wyff in dede ys a sylk woman be her occupation,
And lymen cloths most cheffy was her grentyste trayd,
And at faris and merkyttis she solde sale-ware that she made;
As shertts, smockys, partlyttis, hode clothes, and othar thingys,
As sylk thredd, and eggyns, skirrtis, bandis, and strings.
From The Chant of Richard Sheale,
British Bibliographer, No. XIII. p. 101.
Elsewhere, Sheale hints that he had trusted to his harp, and to the well known poverty attached to those who used that instrument, to bear him safe through Dunsmore Heath. At length the order of English minstrels was formally put down by the act 39th of Queen Elizabeth, classing them with sturdy beggars and vagabonds; in which disgraceful fellowship they only existed in the capacity of fiddlers, who accompanied their instrument with their voice. Such a character is introduced in the play of Monsieur Thomas, as the "poor fiddler who says his songs." The metrical romances which they recited also fell into disrepute, though some of the more popular, sadly abridged and adulterated, continued to be published in chap. books, as they are called. About fifty or sixty years since, a person acquired the nickname of Rosewal and Lilian from singing that romance about the streets of Edinburgh, which is probably the very last instance of the proper minstrel craft.
If the metrical romances of England can boast of few original compositions, they can show yet fewer examples of the prose romance. Sir Thomas Mory, indeed, compiled, from various French authorities, his celebrated Morte d'Arthur, indisputably the best prose romance the language can boast. There is also Arthur of Little Britain; and the Lord Berners compiled the romance of the Knight of the Swan. The books of Amadis were likewise translated into English; but it may be doubted whether the country in general ever took that deep interest
in the perusal of these records of love and honour with which they were greeted in France. Their number was fewer; and the attention paid to them in a country where great political questions began to be agitated was much less than when the feudal system still continued in its full vigour.
III. We should now say something on those various kinds of romantic fictions which succeeded to the romance of chivalry. But we can only notice briefly works which have long slumbered in oblivion, and which certainly are not worthy to have their slumbers disturbed.
Even in the time of Cervantes, the pastoral romance, founded upon the Diana of George of Menté Mayer, was prevailing to such an extent as made it worthy of his satire. It was, indeed, a system still more remote from common sense and reality than that of chivalry itself. For the maxims of chivalry, high-strained and absurd as they are, did actually influence living beings, and even the fate of kingdoms. If Amadis de Gaule was a fiction, the Chevalier Bayard was a real person. But the existence of an Arcadia, a pastoral region, in which a certain fantastic sort of personages, desperately in love, and thinking of nothing else but their mistresses, played upon pipes, and wrote sonnets from morning to night, yet were supposed all the while to be tending their flocks, was too monstrously absurd to be long credited or tolerated.
A numerous, and once most popular, class of fictions, was that entitled the Heroic Romance of the Seventeenth Century.
If the ancient Romance of Chivalry has a right to be called the parent of those select and beautiful fictions which the genius of the Italian poets has enriched with such peculiar charms, another of its direct descendants, The Heroic Romance of the Seventeenth Century, is, with few exceptions, the most dull and tedious species of composition that ever obtained temporary popularity. The old romance of Heliodorus, entitled Theagenes and Churiclea, supplied, perhaps, the earliest model of this style of composition; but it was from the romances of chivalry that it derives its most peculiar characteristics. A man of a fantastic imagination, Honoré d'Urfé, led the way in this style of composition. Being willing to record certain love intrigues of a complicated nature which had taken place in his own family, and amongst his friends, he imagined to himself a species of Arcadia on the banks of the Lignon, who live for love and for love alone. There are two principal stories, said to represent the family history of D'Urfé and his brother, with about thirty episodes, in which the gallantries and intrigues of Henry IV.'s court are presented under borrowed names. Considered by itself, this is but an example of the pastoral romance; but it was so popular that three celebrated French authors, Gomberville, Calprenede, and Madame Scuderi, seized the pen, and composed in emulation many interminable folios of heroic romance. In these insipid performances, a conventional character, and a set of family manners and features, are ascribed to the heroes and heroines, although selected from dis-