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Title: The Commonplace Book Of Richard Hilles
Author: James Anthony Froude [
More Titles by Froude]
In the Library at Balliol College, Oxford, there is a manuscript which, for want of a better name, I may call a Commonplace Book of an English gentleman who lived in the beginning of the sixteenth century. Its contents display, beyond any other single volume which I have met with, the mental furniture of an average-educated man of the time. There are stories in prose and verse, collections of proverbs, a dissertation on Horticulture, a dissertation on Farriery, a treatise of Confession, a Book of Education, a Book of Courtesy, a Book of "the Whole Duty" of Man; mercantile entries, discourses of arithmetic, recipes, prescriptions, marvels of science or pseudo-science, conundrums, tables of the assize of food; the laws respecting the sale of meat, bread, beer, wine, and other necessaries; while above and beyond all are a collection in various handwritten of ballads, songs, hymns, and didactic poems of a religious kind, some few of which have been met with elsewhere; but of the greater number of them no other copy, I believe, exists.
The owner and compiler was a certain Richard Hilles. From the entries of the births and deaths of his children on a fly-leaf, I gather that in 1518 he lived at a place called Hillend, near King's Langley, in Hertfordshire. The year following he had removed to London, where he was apparently in business; and among his remarks on the management of vines and fruit trees in his "Discourse on Gardens," he mentions incidentally that he had been in Greece and on the coast of Asia Minor. A brief "Annual Register" is carried down as far as 1535, in which year he perhaps died. One of his latest entries is the execution of Bishop Fisher and of Sir Thomas More. Some other facts about him might perhaps be collected; but his personal history could add little to the interest of his book, which is its own sufficient recommendation. It will be evident, from the description which I have given, that as an antiquarian curiosity this manuscript is one of the most remarkable of its kind which survives.
The public, who are willing to pay for the production of thousands of volumes annually, the value of which is inappreciable from its littleness, may perhaps not be unwilling to encourage, to the extent of the purchase of a small edition, the preservation in print of a relic which, even in the mere commonplace power of giving amusement, exceeds the majority of circulating novels: while readers whose appetites are more discriminating, and the students of the past, to whom the productions of their ancestors have a memorial value for themselves, may find their taste gratified at least with some fragments of genuine beauty equal to the best extant specimens of early English poetry.
In the hope of contributing to such a result, I am going to offer to the readers of Fraser a few miscellaneous selections from different parts of the volume; and as in the original they are thrown together without order--the sacred side by side with the profane; the devotional, the humorous, and the practical reposing in placid juxtaposition--I shall not attempt to remedy a disorder which is itself so characteristic a feature.
Let us commence, then, as a fitting grace before the banquet, with a song on the Nativity. The spirit which appears in many of the most beautiful pictures of mediaeval art is here found taking the form of words:--
Can I not sing Ut Hoy,
When the Jolly shepherd made so much joy.
The shepherd upon a hill he sat,
He had on him his tabard and his hat;
His tar-box, his pipe, and his flat hat,
His name was called Jolly, Jolly Wat,
For he was a good herd's boy,
Ut Hoy,
For in his pipe he made so much joy.
The shepherd upon a hill was laid,
His dogge to his girdle was tied;
He had not slept but a little brayd
When Gloria in Excelsis to him was said.
Ut Hoy!
For in his pipe he made so much joy.
The shepherd upon a hill he stood,
Round about him his sheep they yode;
He put his hand under his hood,
He saw a star as red as blood,
Ut Hoy!
For in his pipe he made so much joy.
Now Farewell, Matt, and also Will,
For my love go ye all still
Unto I come again you till,
And evermore Will ring well thy bell;
Ut Hoy!
For in his pipe he made so much joy.
Now I must go where Christ was born;
Farewell! I come again to morn:
Dog keep will my sheep from the corn,
And warn well warrock when I blow my horn,
Ut Hoy!
For in his pipe he made so much joy.
When Wat to Bethlehem come was,
He swat: he had gone faster than a pace.
He found Jesu in a simple place,
Between an oxe and an asse;
Ut Hoy!
For in his pipe he made so much joy.
Jesu! I offer to thee here my pipe,
My skirt, my tar-box, and my scrip;
Home to my fellows now will I skippe,
And also look unto my shepe,
Ut Hoy!
For in his pipe he made so much joy.
Now Farewell, myne own Herdsman Watt;
Yea, for God, Lady, and even so I had;
Lull well Jesu in thy lappe,
And farewell, Joseph, with thy gown and cap;
Ut Hoy!
For in his pipe he made so much joy.
Now may I well both hop and sing,
For I have been at Christ's bearing;
Home to my fellows now will I fling,
Christ of Heaven to his bliss us bring.
Ut Hoy!
For in his pipe he made so much joy.
Hilles was perhaps himself a poet, or so I gather from the phrase, "Quoth Richard Hilles," with which more than one piece of great merit terminates. He would scarcely have added his own name to the composition of another person. Elizabeth, queen of Henry VII., died in childbirth in February, 1502-3.
The following "Lamentation," if not written by Hilles himself, was written in his life-time:--
THE LAMENTATION OF QUEEN ELIZABETH
Ye that put your trust and confidence
In worldly riches and frail prosperity,
That so live here as ye should never hence;
Remember death, and look here upon me;
Insample I think there may no better be:
Yourself wot well that in my realm was I
Your Queen but late; Lo, here I lie.
Was I not born of worthy lineage:
Was not my mother Queen, my father King;
Was I not a king's fere in marriage;
Had I not plenty of every pleasant thing?
Merciful God! this is a strange reckoning;
Riches, honour, wealth, and ancestry,
Hath me forsaken; Lo, here I lie.
If worship might have kept me I had not go;
If wealth might have me served I needed not so;
If money might have held I lacked none.
But oh, good God, what vaileth all this year!
When death cometh, thy mighty messenger
Obey we must, there is no remedy;
He hath me summoned--lo, here I lie.
Yet was I lately promised otherwise
This year to live in wealth and in delice,
Lo, whereto cometh the blandishing promise?
Oh, false astrology diminatrice
Of Goddes secrets, making thee so wise!
How true is for this year the prophecy;
The year yet lasteth, and lo, here I lie.
Oh, brittle wealth--aye full of bitterness,
Thy singular pleasure aye doubled is with pain.
Account my sorrow first, and my distress
Sundry wise, and reckon thee again
The joy that I have had, I dare not feign,
For all my honour, endured yet have I
More woe than wealth; Lo, here I lie.
Where are our castles now, and our towers,
Goodly Richmond, soon art thou gone from me;
At Westminster, that goodly work of yours,
Mine own dear lord, now shall I never see.
Almighty God, vouchsafe to grant that ye,
Ye and your children, well may edify,
My place builded is; Lo, here I lie.
Adieu, my true spouse, and my worthy lord;
The faithful love that did us two combine
In marriage and peaceable concord,
Into your hands here do I clean resign,
To be bestowed unto your children and mine;
Erst were ye father, now must ye supply
The mother's part also; Lo, here I lie.
Farewell, my daughter, Lady Margaret,(1)
God wot full sore it grieved hath my mind
That ye should go where we should seldom
meet;
Now am I gone and have you left behind.
Oh mortal folk! What be we weary blind!
That we least fear full off it is full nigh,
Fro you depart I first; Lo, here I lie.
Farewell, madame, my Lordes worthy mother,(2)
Comfort your son and be ye of good cheer.
Take all in worth, for it will be none other.
Farewell my daughter,(3) late the fere
To Prince Arthur mine own child so dear,
It booteth not for me to weep or cry,
Pray for my soul, for now lo here I lie.
Adieu, dear Harry, my lovely son, adieu,
Our Lord increase your honour and your estate
Adieu, my daughter Mary,(4) bright of hue,
God made you virtuous, wise, and fortunate.
Adieu sweetheart, my lady daughter Kate,(5)
Thou shalt, good babe, such is thy destiny,
Thy mother never know; Lo, here I lie.
Oh Lady Cecil, Anne, and Catherine,
Farewell my well-beloved sisters three;
Oh Lady bright, dear sister mine;
Lo here the end of worldly vanity;
Lo well are you that earthly folly flee,
And Heavenly things do love and magnify.
Farewell and pray for me; Lo, here I lie.
Adieu my lords and ladies all;
Adieu my faithful servants every one;
Adieu my commons, whom I never shall
See in this world; Wherefore to thee alone,
Immortal God, very three in one,
I me commend--thy Infinite mercy
Show to thy servant now; Lo, here I lie.
(1) Margaret of Scotland, Queen of James IV.
(2) The Countess of Richmond.
(3) Catherine of Aragon.
(4) Queen of France, and afterwards Duchess of Suffolk
(5) Died in childhood.
Here lyeth the fresh flower of Plantagenet;
Here lyeth the White Rose in the red set;
Here lyeth the noble Queen Elizabeth;
Here lyeth the Princess departed by death;
Here lyeth the blood of our country Royal;
Here lyeth the favour of England immortal:
Here lyeth Edward the Fourth in picture;
Here lyeth his daughter and pearle pure;
Here lyeth the wife of Harry our true King;
Here lyeth the heart, the joy, and the gold Ring;
Here lyeth the lady so liberal and gracious;
Here lyeth the pleasure of thy house;
Here lyeth very love of man and child;
Here lyeth ensample our minds to bild;
Here lyeth all beauty--of living a mirrour;
Here lyeth all very good manner and honour;
God grant her now Heaven to increase;
And our King Harry long life and peace.
The note changes. We come next to a hunting song:--
As I walked by a forest side
I met with a forester; he bade me abide
At a place where he me set--
He bade me what time an hart I met
That I should let slip and say go belt;
With Hay go bett, Hay go belt, Hay go bett,
Now we shall have game and sport enow.
I had not stand there but a while,
Yea, not the maintenance of a mile,
But a great hart came running without any guile;
With there he goeth--there he goeth--there he goeth;
Now we shall have game and sport enow.
I had no sooner my hounds let go
But the hart was overthrow;
Then every man began to blow,
With trororo--trororo--trororo,
Now we shall have game and sport enow.
In honour of good ale we have many English ballads. Good wine, too, was not without a poet to sing its praises, the Scripture allusions and the large infusion of Latin pointing perhaps to the refectory of some genial monastery.
A TREATISE OF WINE
The best tree if ye take intent,
Inter ligna fructifera,
Is the vine tree by good argument,
Dulcia ferens pondera.
Saint Luke saith in his Gospel,
Arbor fructu noscitur,
The vine beareth wine as I you tell,
Hinc aliis praeponitur.
The first that planted the vineyard,
Manet in coeli gaudio,
His name was Noe, as I am learned,
Genesis testimonio.
God gave unto him knowledge and wit
A quo procedunt omnia,
First of the grape-wine for to get,
Propter magna mysteria.
Melchisedek made offering,
Dando liquorem vineum,
Full mightily sacrafying
Altaris sacraficium.
The first miracle that Jesus did,
Erat in vino rubeo,
In Cana of Galilee it betide,
Testante Evangelio.
He changed water into wine,
Aquae rubescunt hydrim,
And bade give it to Archetcline,
Ut gustet tunc primarie.
Like as the rose exceedeth all flowers,
Inter cuncta florigera,
So doth wine other liquours,
Dans multa salutifera.
David, the prophet, saith that wine
Laetificat cor hominis,
It maketh men merry if it be fine,
Est ergo digni nominis.
The malicoli fumosetive,
Quae generat tristitiam,
It causeth from the heart to rise
Tollens omnem maestitiam.
The first chapter specified,
Libri ecclesiastici,
That wine is music of cunning delight,
Laetificat cor clerici.
Sirs, if ye will see Boyce,
De disciplina scholarium,
There shall ye see without misse,
Quod vinum acuit ingenium.
First, when Ypocras should dispute,
Cum viris sapientibus,
Good wine before was his pursuit,
Acumen praebens sensibus.
It quickeneth a man's spirit and his mind,
Audaciam dat liquentibus,
If the wine be good and well fined,
Prodest sobrie bibentibus.
Good wine received moderately,
Mox cerebrum laetificat,
Natural heat it strengthens pardy,
Omne membrum fortificat.
Drunken also soberly,
Digestionem uberans,
Health it lengthens of the body,
Naturam humanam prosperans.
Good wine provokes a man to sweat,
Et plena lavat viscera,
It maketh men to eat their meat,
Facitque corda prospera.
It nourisheth age if it be good,
Facit ut esset juvenis,
It gendereth in him gentle blood,
Nam venas purgat sanguinis.
Sirs, by all these causes ye should think,
Quae sunt rationabiles,
That good wine should be best of all drink,
Inter potus potabiles.
Fill the cup well! Bellamye,
Potum jam mihi ingere,
I have said till my lips be dry,
Vellem nunc vinum bibere.
Wine drinkers all with great honour,
Semper laudate Dominum,
The which sendeth the good liquour,
Propter salutem hominum.
Plenty to all that love good-wine,
Donet Deus largius,
And bring them soon when they go hence,
Ubi non sitlent amplius.
The boar's-head catch may be added to this,
similar Latin intermixtures.
Caput apri refero,
Resonans laudes Domino,
The boar's head in hand I bring,
With garlands gay and birds singing,
I pray you all help me to sing
Qui estis in convivio.
The boar's head I understand,
Is chief service in all this land,
Wheresoever it may be found,
Servitur cum sinapio.
The boar's head, I dare well say,
Anon after the Twelfth day.
He taketh his leave and goeth away,
Exivit tune de patria.
Four of the following verses are on a tombstone, I believe in Melrose Abbey, and are well known. Few if any persons will have seen the poem of which they form a part. So far as I am aware no other copy survives [Since this was written I have learned that a version, with important differences has been printed for the Warton Club, from an MS. in the possession of Mr. Onusby Gore.]:--
Vado mori Rex sum, quid honor quid gloria mundi,
Est vita mors hominum regia--vado mori.
Vado mori miles victo certamine belli,
Mortem non didici vincere vado mori.
Vado mori medicus, medicamine non relevandus,
Quicquid agunt medici respuo vado mori.
Vado mori logicus, aliis concludere novi,
Concludit breviter mors in vado mori.
Earth out of earth is worldly wrought;
Earth hath gotten upon earth a dignity of nought;
Earth upon earth has set all his thought,
How that earth upon earth might be high brought.
Earth upon earth would be a king,
But how that earth shall to earth he thinketh no thing.
When earth biddeth earth his rents home bring,
Then shall earth from earth have a hard parting.
Earth upon earth winneth castles and towers,
Then saith earth unto earth this is all ours;
But when earth upon earth has builded his bowers,
Then shall earth upon earth suffer hard showers.
Earth upon earth hath wealth upon mould;
Earth goeth upon earth glittering all in gold,
Like as he unto earth never turn should,
And yet shall earth unto earth sooner than he would.
Why that earth loveth earth wonder I think,
Or why that earth will for earth sweat and swink.
For when earth upon earth is brought within the brink,
Then shall earth for earth suffer a foul stink,
As earth upon earth were the worthies nine,
And as earth upon earth in honour did shine;
But earth list not to know how they should incline,
And their gowns laid in the earth when death
made his fine.
As earth upon earth full worthy was Joshua,
David, and worthy King Judas Maccabee,
They were but earth none of them three;
And so from earth unto earth they left their dignity.
Alisander was but earth that all the world wan,
And Hector upon earth was held a worthy man,
And Julius Caesar, that the Empire first began;
And now as earth within earth they lie pale and wan.
Arthur was but earth for all his renown,
No more was King Charles nor Godfrey of Boulogne;
But how earth hath turned their noblenes upside down
And thus earth goeth to earth by short conclusion.
Whoso reckons also of William Conqueror,
King Henry the First that was of knighthood flower,
Earth hath closed them full straitly in his bower,--
So the end of worthiness,--here is no more succour.
Now ye that live upon earth, both young and old,
Think how ye shall to earth, be ye never so bold;
Ye be unsiker, whether it be in heat or cold,
Like as your brethren did before, as I have told.
Now ye folks that be here ye may not long endure,
But that ye shall turn to earth I do you ensure;
And if ye list of the truth to see a plain figure,
Go to St. Paul's and see the portraiture.
All is earth and shall to earth as it sheweth there,
Therefore ere dreadful death with his dart you dare,
And for to turn into earth no man shall it forbear,
Wisely purvey you before, and thereof have no leaf.
Now sith by death we shall all pass, it is to us certain,
For of earth we come all, and to the earth shall turn
again;
Therefore to strive or grudge it were but vain,
For all is earth and shall be earth--nothing more
certain.
Now earth upon earth consider thou may
How earth cometh to earth naked alway,
Why should earth upon earth go stout alway,
Since earth out of earth shall pass in poor array?
I counsel you upon earth that wickedly have wrought,
That earth out of earth to bliss may be brought.
--
Of songs, nursery rhymes, and carols, there are very many, of which the next three are specimens:--
Lulley, lulley, lulley, lulley,
The falcon hath borne my mate away,
He bare him up, he bare him down,
He bare him into an orchard brown.
Lulley, lulley, lulley, lulley,
The falcon hath borne my mate away.
In that orchard there was a hall,
That was hanged with purple and pall,
And in that hall there was a bed
That was hanged with gold so red,
Lulley, lulley, lulley, lulley.
And in that bed there lyeth a knight,
His wounds were bleeding day and night;
By the bedside there kneeleth a may,
And she weepeth both night and day,
Lulley, lulley, lulley, lulley.
And by the bed side there standeth a stone,
Corpus Christi is written thereon.
Lulley, lulley, lulley, lulley,
The falcon hath borne my mate away.
I have twelve oxen, and they be fair and brown,
And they go a grazing down by the town,
With haye, with howe, with hoye!
Sawest thou not mine oxen, thou little pretty boy?
I have twelve oxen, and they be fair and white,
And they go a grazing down by the dyke,
With haye, with howe, with hoye!
Sawest thou not mine oxen, thou little pretty boy?
I have twelve oxen, and they be fair and black,
And they go a grazing down by the lake,
With haye, with howe, with hoye!
Sawest thou not mine oxen, thou little pretty boy?
I have twelve oxen, and they be fair and red,
And they go a grazing down by the mead,
With haye, with howe, with hoye!
Sawest thou not mine oxen, thou pretty little boy?
--
Make we merry in hall and bower
This time was born our Saviour.
In this time God hath sent
His own Son to be present,
To dwell with us in verament,
God is our Saviour.
In this time that is befal,
A child was born in an ox stall,
And after he died for us all,
God is our Saviour.
In this time an Angel bright
Met three shepherds upon a night,
He bade them go anon of right
To God that is our Saviour.
In this time now pray we
To Him that died for us on tree,
On us all to have pitee,
God is our Saviour.
--
And how exquisitely graceful too is this:--
There is a flower sprung of a tree,
The root of it is called Jesse,
A flower of price,--
There is none such in Paradise.
Of Lily white and Rose of Ryse,
Of Primrose and of Flower-de-Lyse,
Of all flowers in my devyce,
The flower of Jesse beareth the prize,
For most of all
To help our souls both great and small.
I praise the flower of good Jesse,
Of all the flowers that ever shall be,
Uphold the flower of good Jesse,
And worship it for aye beautee;
For best of all
That ever was or ever be shall.
Mr. Hilles was a good Catholic. Amidst a multitude of religious poems of a Catholic kind, there is not one which could be construed as implying a leaning towards the Reformers; while under a certain legend of St. Gregory some indignant Protestant of the next generation has written a passionate anathema calling it lies of the devil and other similar hard names. A private diary of such a person therefore, of the years in which England was separated from the Papacy, is of especial interest:--
"1533. Stephen Peacock, haberdasher, mayor.
"This year, the 29th day of May, the Mayor of
London, with the aldermen in scarlet gowns, went in
barges to Greenwich, with their banners, as they were
wont to bring the Mayor to Westminister; and the
bachelor's barge hanged with cloth of gold on the
outside with banners and bells upon them in their
manner, with a galley to wait upon her, and a foyst
with a beast therein which shot many guns. And then
they fetched Queen Anne up to the Tower of London;
and in the way on land about Limehouse there shot
many great chambers of guns, and two of the King's
ships which lay by Limehouse shot many great guns,
and at the Tower or she came on land was shot
innumerable many guns.
"And the 31st day of May, which was Whitsun even,
she was conveyed in a chariot from the Tower of
London to York-place, called Whitehall at Westminster;
and at her departing from the Tower there
was shot off guns which was innumerable to men's
thinking; and in London divers pageants, that is to
say,
"One at Gracechurch;
"One at Leadenhall;
"One at the great Conduit;
"One at the Standard;
"The Crosse in Chepe new trimmed;
"At the conduit at Paul's Gate;
"At Paul's gate a branch of Roses;
"Without at the east end of Paul's;
"At the conduit in Fleet Street;
"And she was accompanied, first Frenchmen in-- coloured velvet and one white sleeve, and the horses trapped, and white crosses thereon; then rode gentlemen, then knights and lords in their degree, and there was two hats of maintenance, and many chariots, with lords and many gentlewomen on horseback following the chariots; and all the constables in London were in their best array, with white staves in their hands, to make room and to wait upon the Queen as far as -------; and there rode with her sixteen knights of the Bath; and on Whit-Sunday she was crowned at Westminster with great solemnity; and jousts at Westminster all the Whitsun holidays, and the feast was kept in Westminster Hall, and jousts afore York Place called Whitehall.
"This year, in the beginning of September, Queen Anne was delivered of a woman child at Greenwich, which child was named Elizabeth.
"Item, this year foreign butchers sold flesh at Leadenhall, for the butchers of the city of London denied to sell beef for a halfpenny the pound according to the Act of Parliament.
"1534. Christopher Ascue, draper, mayor. "This year, the 23rd day of November, preached at Paul's Cross the Abbot of Hyde, and there stood on a scaffold all the sermon time the Holy Maid of Kent, called [Elizabeth] Barton, and two monks of Canterbury, and two Friars observant, and two priests and two laymen, and after the sermon went to the Tower. Also this year, on Palm Sunday even, which was the 28th day of March, was a great sudden tempest of wind, and broke open two windows at Whitehall at Westminster, and turned up the lead of the King's new Tennis Play at York Place, and broke off the tyles of three goldsmiths' houses in Lombard Street, and folded up the lead at Pewterers' Hall and cast it down into the yard, and blew down many tyles of houses in London, and trees about Shoreditch.
"Item, the first day of April, which was tenebre Wednesday, Wolf and his wife, that killed the two Lombards in a boat upon Thames, were hanged upon two gibbets by the water-side between London Bridge and Westminster; and on the Monday in Easter week the woman was buried at the Crossed Friars in London.
"Item, the 20th day of April, the parson of Aidmary (sic, but the real person was the priest of Aidington in Kent) Church, in London, was drawn on a hurdle from the Tower of London to the Tyburn and there hanged and headed. Item, two observant Freers drawn on a hurdle and both hanged and headed. Item, two monks of Canterbury, one was called Dr. Bocking, drawn on a hurdle and hanged and headed. Item, the Holy Maid of Kent was drawn on a hurdle to Tyburn and hanged and headed; and all the heads set upon London Brigge and on the gates of London. Item, the 11th day of July, the Lord Dacres of the north was conveyed from the Tower of London to Westminster to receive judgement for treason, but there he was quit by a quest of Lords. Item, all men, English and others being in England, were sworn to be true to the King and his heirs between Queen Anne and him begotten and for to be begotten. Item, the Lord Thomas Garrard, of Ireland, beheaded the Bishop of Dublin, called Doctor Alien, as he would come into England. Item, a general peace cried between the King of England and the Scottish King for their lifetime. Item, there was a great sudden storm in the Narrow Sea, and two ships of the Zealand fleet were lost, with cloth and men and all, for they sank in the sea.
--
"Sir John Champneys, mayor.
"This year, in November, came over the high Admiral of France as ambassador from the French King, and he had great gifts and his costs provided for as long as he was m the Realm.
"1535. Item, the fourth day of May, the Prior of the Charterhouse in London, and two other monks of the Charterhouse in other places, and the father of the Place at Sion, being in a grey habit, and a priest which was, as men said, the vicar of Thystillworth, were drawn all from the Tower of London to Tyburn and hanged and their bowels burnt, the heads cut off, and quartered, and the heads and quarters some set on London Brigge, and the rest upon all the gates of London and on the Charterhouse gate.
"Also shortly after the King caused his own head to be knotted and cut short, and his hair was not half an inch long, and so were all the lords, and all knights, gentlemen, and serving men that came to the court.
"Item, on Whitsun even was a great thunder in London. Item, the fourth day of June, a man and woman, born in Flanders, were burnt in Smithfield for heresy. Item, the 19th day of June, three monks of the order of the Charterhouse were drawn from the Tower to Tyburn, and there hanged and headed. Item, the 22nd day of June, the Bishop Rochester was beheaded at the Tower Hill, the head set on London Brigg and the body buried at Barking Churchyard. Item, the 6th day of July, Sir Thomas More, that sometime was Chancellor of England, was beheaded at Tower Hill, and his head set on the Brigg and the body buried in the Tower. Also this year the power and authority of the Pope was utterly made frustrate and of none effect within the Realm, and the King called Supreme Head under God of the Church of England; and that was read in the Church every Festival day; and the Pope's name was scraped out of every mass book and other books, and was called Bishop of Rome.
"1535-6. Sir John Allen, mercer, mayor. "At the beginning of the time the sheriffs put away each of them six servants and six yeomen till they were compelled by the common counsel to take them again.
"Item, the Kennell Rakers of London had horns to blow to give folks warning' to cast out their dust. Item, every man that had a well within his house to draw it three times in the week to wash the streets."
--
The murder committed by Wolf and his wife, which is mentioned in the Diary, created so much sensation that it was discussed in Parliament, and was made the subject of a statute. The extraordinary beauty of the woman was used as a decoy to entice the merchants into a boat where the husband was concealed. They were killed and thrown overboard, and the wife, acting much like Mrs. Manning, took the keys from the body of one of them, went to his house and rifled his strong box. The burial of her body, while her husband was left upon the gibbet, was occasioned by a circumstance too horrible to be mentioned.
Next "follow parts of the statutes of England every craftsman victualler shall be ruled":--
"MILLERS.
"First, the assise of the miller is that he have no measure at his mill but it be assised and sealed according to the King's standard, and he to have of every bushel of wheat a quart for the grinding: also, if he fetch it, another quart for the fetching; and of every bushel of malt a pint for the grinding, and if he fetch it another pint for the fetching. Also, that he change nor water no man's corn to give him the worse for the better, nor that he have no hogs, geese, nor ducks, nor no manner poultry but three hens and a duck; and if he do the contrary to any of these points his fine is at every time three shillings and four pence, and if he will not beware by two warnings the third time to be judged to the pillory.
"BAKERS.
"Also, the assise of bakers is sixpence highing and sixpence lowing in the price of a quarter of wheat; for if he lack an ounce in the weight of a farthing loaf he to be amerced at 20d.; and if he lack an ounce and a half he to be amerced at 2s. 6d., in all bread so baken; and if he bake not after the assise of the statute he to be adjudged to the pillory.
"BREWERS.
"Also, the assise of brewers is 12 pence highing and 12 pence lowing in the price of a quarter of malt, and evermore shilling to farthing; for when he buyeth a quarter malt for two shillings, then he shall sell a gallon of the best ale for two farthings, and so to make 48 gallons of a quarter malt. When he buyeth a quarter malt for three shillings, the gallon three fathings; for four shillings, the gallon four farthings; and so forth to 8 shillings, and no further. And that he set none ale a sale till he have sent for the ale taster, and as oft as he doth the contrary he to be merced at six pence; and that he sell none but by measure assised and sealed, and that he sell a quart ale upon his table for a farthing. And as oft as he doth the contrary to sell not after the price of malt, he to be amerced the first time: 2 pence, the second time 20 pence, the third time three and four pence; and if he will not beware by these warnings, the next time to be judged to the cucking stole, and the next time to the pillory.
"AN ORDINANCE FOR BAKERS.
"By the discretion and ordinance of our lord the King, weights and measures were made. It is to know that an English penny, which is called a round sterling and without clipping shall weigh 32 corns of wheat taken out of the middle of the ear, and twenty pence make an ounce, and twelve ounces make a pound, which is twenty shillings sterling; and eight pounds of wheat maketh a gallon of corn, and eight gallons make a London bushel, which is the eighth part of a quarter.
"When the quarter of wheat is sold for a shilling, then the wastell, well boulted and clean, shall weigh six pounds sixteen shillings. The loaf of a quarter of the same corn and the same bultell shall weigh more than the said wastell two shillings. The symnell of a quarter shall weigh less than the said wastell two shillings, because that it is boyled and clean. The loaf of clean wheat of a quartern shall weigh a coket and a half, and the loaf of all corns of a quartern shall weigh two cokets; and it is understood that the baker so may get of every quarter of wheat as it is proved by the King's bakers four pence and the bran, and two loaves to furnage of the price of two pence; and three servants a penny farthing, and two grooms a farthing; in salt a farthing; in yeast a farthing, in candell and in wood three pence, in bultell allowed a farthing.
"Two or four loaves are made to be sold for a penny: none other kind of bread to be made of great price, but only two or four loaves to a penny. There is no bread made to be sold of three quarterns nor of five quarterns; also, there shall be no bread made of corn the which shall be worse in breaking than it is without. It is to know that of old custom of the city of London, by authority of divers Parliaments affirmed for divers weights which the citizens of London suffer in the bakers which they have had and have been wont to have in every assise of bread, the setting of two pence in a quarter of wheat above all foreign bakers in the realm of England; so that in assise of wheat when a quarter wheat is sold for five shillings, then it shall be set to the bakers of London seven shillings for assise; and so of every other assise two shillings to the increase.
"The assise of bread after that above contained truly may be holden after the selling of wheat; that is to say, of the best price, of the second price, and of the third, and as well wastell bread as other bread shall be weighed after, of what kind so ever it be, as it is above, by a mean price of wheat; and then the assise or the weight of bread, shall not be changed but by six pence increasing or distressing in the selling of a quarter of wheat. Also, the baker shall be amerced 2s. 6d., and his quartern bread may be proved faulty in weight; and if he pass the number he shall go to the pillory, and the judgment of the trespass shall not be forgiven for gold nor silver; and every baker must have his own mark on every manner bread; and after eight days bread should not be weighed: and if it be found that the quartern bread of the baker be faulty he shall be amerced 15d., and unto the number of 2s. 6d. And it is to know that the baker ought not to go to the pillory, but if he pass the number of 2s. 6d. default quartern bread, and he shall not be merced, but if the default of bread pass 15d.
"The rule set upon White Bakers and Brown Bakers, --The rule is that white bakers should inowe make and bake all manner of bread, and that they can make of wheat: that is for to say, white loaf bread, wastell buns, and all manner white bread that hath been used of old time; and they inowe make wheat bread sometimes called Crybill bread, and basket bread such as is sold in Cheep to poor people. But the white bread baker shall bake no horse bread of any assise, neither of his own neither of none other men's, to sell. The brown baker shall inowe make and bake wheat bread as it cometh ground from the mill, without any boulting of the same; also horse bread of clean beans and peason; and also bread called household bread, for the which they shall take for every bushel kneading bringing home 1 penny; but they shall bake no white bread of any assise, neither of their own, neither of none other men's, to sell. And what person of the said bakers offend in any of the articles above writ, shall as oft as he may be proved guilty pay 6s. 8d., half to the use of the Chamber of London, and the other half to the use of the master of the bakers.
"THE ASSISE OF BREAD WITHIN LONDON.
"Mem.--That the farthing loaf of all grains, and the farthing horse loaf, is of like weight.
"Mem.--That the halfpenny white loaf of Stratford must weigh two ounces more than the halfpenny white loaf of London.
"That the penny wheat loaf of Stratford must weigh six oz. more than the penny wheat loaf of London.
"The halfpenny wheat loaf of Stratford must weigh three ounces more than the halfpenny wheat loaf of London.
"Three halfpenny white loaves of Stratford must weigh as much as the penny wheat loaf.
"The loaf of all grains: that is, the wheat loaf, must weigh as much as the penny wheat loaf and the half-penny white loaf.
"The chete white loaf must weigh 12 oz.
"The chete white brown loaf must weigh 18 oz."
After so much solid matter, our repast shall be completed with something of a lighter kind. A list of "Divers good proverbs" is curious, as showing the long growth and long endurance of established maxims of practical wisdom. They are written in a distinct and singular hand, not to be traced elsewhere in prose or poetry:--
When ye proffer the pigge open the poke.
Whyle the grasse growyth the hors stervyth.
Sone it sherpyth that thorne wyll be.
It ys a sotyll mouse that slepyth in the cattys ear.
Nede makyth the old wyffe to trotte.
A byrde yn honde ys better than three yn the wode
And hevyn fell we shall have meny larkys.
A short hors ys sone curryed.
Though peper be blek yt hath a gode smek.
Of a rugged colte cumyth a gode hors.
Fayre behestys makyth ffolys fayn.
All thyngs hath a begynyng.
Wepyn makyth pese dyvers tymes.
Wynter etyth that somer getyth.
He that ys warnyd beffore ys not begylyd.
He that wyll not be warnyd by hys owne fader
He shell be wamyd by hys step fader.
Pryde goeth beffore and shame comyth after.
Oftyn tymys provyth the fruyght aftore,
The stok that hyt comyth off.
Hyt ys a febyll tre thet fallyth at the fyrst strok.
Hyt fallyth yn a day that fallyth not all the yere afore.
Whyle the fote warmyth the shoe harmyth.
A softe flyre makyth swete malte.
When the stede ys stolen shyt the stabyll dore.
Merry hondys makyth lyght werke.
When thou hast well done hange up thy hachet.
Yt ys not all gold that glowyth.
Often tymys the arrow hyttyth the shoter.
Yt ys comonly sayd that all men be not trew.
That nature gevyth no man can tak away.
Thys arrow comyth never owt of thyn ownne bow.
Sone crokyth the tre that wyll be.
When the hors walowyth some herys be loste.
Thys day a man, to-morrow non.
Seld sene sone forgotyn.
When the bely ys ffull the bonys would have craft.
Better yt ys to be unborn than untawght.
He that no good can nor non wyll lern,
Yf he never thryve, who shall hym werne?
He that all covetyth often all lesyth.
Never hope, herte wold breste.
Hasty man lakkyth never woo.
A gode begynnyng makyth a gode endyng.
Better yt ys late than never.
Poverte partyth felyshype.
Brente honde flyre dredyth.
Non sygheth so sore as the gloton that may no more.
He may lyghtly swym that ys held up by the chyn.
Clyme not to hye lest chypys fall yn thyn eie.
An skabbyd shepe ynfectyth all the ffolde.
All the keys hange not by one manys gyrdyll.
Better yt ys to lese cloth than brede.
He that hath nede must blowe at the cole.
--
Of all the treasures of the volume, the richest are perhaps the hymns and metrical prayers to the Virgin, of which there are great numbers and every variety. Some are in English, some in English and Latin. Here are three in different styles:--
Mary mother, thee I pray.
To be our help at Domys day;
At Domys day when we shall rise,
And come before the high Justice,
And give account for our service,
What helpeth then our clothing gay?
When we shall come before his doom,
What will us help there all and some?
We shall stand as sorry grooms,
Ycald in a full poor array.
That ylke day without lesing,
Many a man his hands shall wring.
And repent him sore for his living,
Then it is too late as I you say.
Therefore I rede ye both day and night,
Make ye ready to God Almight;
For in this land is king nor knight,
That wot when he shall wend away.
That child that was born on Mary,
He glads all this company,
And for his love make we merry,
That for us died on Good Friday.
Mater ora filium,
Ut post hoc exilium,
Nobis donet gaudium
Beatorum omnium.
Faire maiden, who is this bairn
That thou bearest in thine arm?
Sir, it is a Kingis son,
That in Heaven above doth wonne.
Mater ora filium, etc.
Man to Father he hath none,
But himself God alone;
Of a maiden he would be borne,
To save mankind that was forlorn.
Mater ora filium, etc.
Three Kings brought him presents,
Gold, myrrh, and frankinsense,
To my Son full of might,
King of Kings and lord of right,
Mater ora filium, etc.
Faire maiden, pray for us
Unto thy Son, sweet Jesus,
That he will send us of his grace
In Heaven on high to have a place.
Mater ora filium, etc.
--
Ave Maria, now say we so,
Maid and mother were never no mo.
Gaude Maria, Christis moder,
Mary mild, of thee I mean,
Thou bare my lord, thou bare my brother,
Thou bare a lovely child and clean,
Thou stoodest full styll withouten blyn
When in thine ear that errand was done.
The gracious Lord thee light within,
Gabrielis nuntio.
Gaude Maria, yglent with grace,
When Jesus, thy Son, on thee was bore,
Full nigh thy breast thou gave him brace,
He sucked, he sighed, he wept full sore;
Thou feedest the flower that never shall fade,
With maiden's milk, and song thereto;
Lulley, my sweet, I bare thee, babe,
Cum pudoris lillio.
Oh, Gaude Maria, thy mirth was away
When Christ on cross thy Son did die
Full dolefully on Good Friday,
That many a mother's son it sye.
His blood us brought from care and strife,
His watery wounds us wisshe from woe.
The third day from death to life
Fulget resurrectio.
Gaude Maria, thou birde so bright,
Brighter than blossom that bloweth on hill,
Joyful thou wert to see that sight,
When the Apostles so smet (sic) of will,
All and some did cry full shrill
When the fairest of shape went you fro,
From earth to Heaven he stayed full still,
Motuque fertur proprio.
Gaude Maria, thou rose of ryse,
Maiden and mother, both gentle and free;
Precious princess, peerless of price,
Thy bower is next the Trinity;
Thy Son as lawe asketh a fight,
In body and soul thee took him to;
Thou reigned in Heaven like as we find
In coeli palacio.
Now blessed birde, we pray thee abone,
Before thy Son for us thou fall,
And pray him as he was on the rood done,
And for us drank aysell and gall,
That we may wonne within that wall,
Wherever is well withouten woe,
And grant that grace unto us all
In perenni gaudio.
SEQUUNTUR MIRABILIA.
Ad fadendum unumquemque hominum duo capita.
Sume sulphur et argentum vivum, et pone ad lumen
lampadis, et unusquisque putabit socium suum habere
duo capita.
Ut homo videatur habere duo capila equina.
Accipe medullam equi, et ceram virgineam, et fac
candelam, et accende.
Ut omnia instrumenta in damo appareant serpentes.
Recipe serpentem, et toque, et sume pinguedinem
ejus, et fac candelam cum alia cera, et iliumina.
Si vis facere lumen per vim animi.
Accipe vermes qua lucent de nocte et pone in vase
vitreo continente radium solis quousque fiet aqua, et
tune pone illam in lampade, et lucet sicut candela, et
probatum est.
Ut homines ardere appareant.
Recipe sanguinem leporis, et ceram virgineam, et fac
candelam, et illumina.
Item capiatis argentum vivum, et ponatis ipsum in
aliquo vitro, et etiam aquam ardentem, et aquam vitae,
et projiciatis tres vel quatuor guttas in igne--si fuerat
aliqua mulier corrupta statim debet mingere et non aliter.
"Gossips mine" has been printed from another manuscript by the Percy Society. To most readers of Fraser, however, it is likely to be new. I select it from the humorous poems as being capable (which most of them are not) of being printed without omissions. The necessary discretion, it will be seen, has been supplied by the author.
How gossips mine, gossips mine,
When shall we go to the wine.
I shall tell you a good sport,
How gossips gather them of a sort,
Their sick bodies to comfort,
When they meet in land or street.
But I dare not for your displeasure,
Tell of these matters half the substance;
But yet somewhat of their governance,
So far as I dare I will declare.
Good gossip mine, where have ye been;
It is so long sith I you seen.
Where is the best wine, tell you me.
Can ye aught tell? Yea, full well.
I know a draught of merry go down,
The best it is in all the town.
But yet I would not for my gown,
My husband wist. Ye may me trist.
Call forth our gossips, bye-and-bye,
Eleanour, Joan, and Margery,
Margaret, Alice, and Cecily;
For they will come, both all and some.
And each of them will something bring,
Goose or pig, or capon's wing,
Pasties of pigeons, or some such thing.
For we must eat some manner meat.
Go before, between, and tween,
Wisely that ye be not seen;
For I must home and come again.
To wit I wis where my husband is.
A strype or two God might send me,
If my husband might here see me.
She is afeared, let her flee,
Quoth Alice then,--I dread no men.
Now be we in the tavern set,
A draught of the best let him fet,
To bring our husbands out of debt;
For we will spend--till God more send.
Each of them brought forth their dish,
Some brought flesh and some brought fish,
Quoth Margaret meke--now with a wish,
I would Anne were here; she would make us
cheer.
How say ye, gossips, is the wine good ?
That is it, quoth Eleanour, by the rood.
It cheereth the heart and comforts the blood.
Such jonkets among shall make us live long.
Anne bade fill a pot of muscadell;
For of all wines I love it well.
Sweet wines keep my body in hell.
If I had it not I should take great thought.
How look ye, gossips, at the board's end.
Not merry, gossips? God it amend,
All shall be well, else God it defend,
Be merry and glad, and sit not so sad.
Would God I had done after your counsel;
For my husband is so fell;
He beateth me like the Devil in hell;
And the more I cry the less mercy.
Alice with a loud voice spake then:
I wis, she said, little good he can,
That beateth or striketh any woman,
And specially his wife, God give him short life.
Margaret meek said, so might I thrive;
I know no man that is alive
That give me two strokes, but he shall have five.
I am not afeard though he have a beard.
One cast down her shot, and went away.
Gossip, quoth Eleanour, what did she pay?
Not but a penny! So, therefore, I say
She shall no more be of our lore.
Such guests we may have enow,
That will not for their shot allow.
With whom came she? Gossip, with you?
Nay, quoth Joan: I came alone.
Now reckon our shot, and go we home,
What cometh to each of us but threepence?
Pardye, that is but a small expense
For such a sort, and all but sport.
Turn down the street when ye come out,
And we will compass around about.
Gossip, quoth Anne, what needeth that doubt,
Your husbands be pleased when ye be eased.
Whatsoever any man think,
We come for naught but for good drink.
Now let us go home and wink,
For it may be seen where we have been.
This is the thought that gossips take.
Once in a week merry they will make,
And all small drinks they will forsake;
But wine of the best shall have no rest.
Some be at the tavern thrice in the week,
And so be some every day eke,
Or else they will groan and make them seek,
For things used will not be refused.
We have thrown our net almost at random; yet there are few palates which will not have found something to please them among the specimens which we have brought together. Let us repeat our hope that the entire collection may before long be committed to the more secure custody, as well as the more accessible form, of a printed volume.
[The end]
James Froude's essay: Commonplace Book Of Richard Hilles
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