The Ship of Fools, Volume 1 2

S >> Sebastian Brandt >> The Ship of Fools, Volume 1 2

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"Whiche was the first ouersear of this warke
And vnto his frende gaue his aduysement
It nat to suffer to slepe styll in the darke
But to be publysshyd abrode: and put to prent
To thy monycion my bysshop I assent
Besechynge god that I that day may se
That thy honour may prospere and augment
So that thy name and offyce may agre
. . . . . .
In this short balade I can nat comprehende
All my full purpose that I wolde to the wryte
But fayne I wolde that thou sholde sone assende
To heuenly worshyp and celestyall delyte
Than shoulde I after my pore wyt and respyt,
Display thy name, and great kyndnes to me
But at this tyme no farther I indyte
But pray that thy name and worshyp may agre."

Pynson, in his capacity of judicious publisher, fearing lest the book
should exceed suitable dimensions, also receives due notice at p. 108 of
Vol. I., where he speaks of

"the charge Pynson hathe on me layde
With many folys our Nauy not to charge."

The concluding stanza, or colophon, is also devoted to immortalising the
great bibliopole in terms, it must be admitted, not dissimilar to those of
a modern draper's poet laureate:--

Our Shyp here leuyth the sees brode
By helpe of God almyght and quyetly
At Anker we lye within the rode
But who that lysteth of them to bye
In Flete strete shall them fynde truly
At the George: in Richarde Pynsonnes place
Prynter vnto the Kynges noble grace.
Deo gratias.

Contemporary allusions to the Ship of Fools there could not fail to be, but
the only one we have met with occurs in Bulleyn's Dialogue quoted above, p.
xxvii. It runs as follows:--_Uxor_.--What ship is that with so many owers,
and straunge tacle; it is a greate vessell. _Ciuis_.--This is the ship of
fooles, wherin saileth bothe spirituall and temporall, of euery callyng
some: there are kynges, queenes, popes, archbishoppes, prelates, lordes,
ladies, knightes, gentlemen, phisicions, lawiers, marchauntes,
housbandemen, beggers, theeues, hores, knaues, &c. This ship wanteth a good
pilot: the storme, the rocke, and the wrecke at hande, all will come to
naught in this hulke for want of good gouernement.

The Eclogues, as appears from their Prologue, had originally been the work
of our author's youth, "the essays of a prentice in the art of poesie," but
they were wisely laid past to be adorned by the wisdom of a wider
experience, and were, strangely enough, lost for years until, at the age of
thirty-eight, the author again lighted, unexpectedly, upon his lost
treasures, and straightway finished them off for the public eye.

The following autobiographical passage reminds one forcibly of Scott's
throwing aside Waverley, stumbling across it after the lapse of years, and
thereupon deciding at once to finish and publish it. After enumerating the
most famous eclogue writers, he proceeds:--

"Nowe to my purpose, their workes worthy fame,
Did in my yonge age my heart greatly inflame,
Dull slouth eschewing my selfe to exercise,
In such small matters, or I durst enterprise,
To hyer matter, like as these children do,
Which first vse to creepe, and afterwarde to go.
. . . . . . . .
So where I in youth a certayne worke began,
And not concluded, as oft doth many a man:
Yet thought I after to make the same perfite,
But long I missed that which I first did write.
But here a wonder, I fortie yere saue twayne,
Proceeded in age, founde my first youth agayne.
To finde youth in age is a probleme diffuse,
But nowe heare the truth, and then no longer muse.
As I late turned olde bookes to and fro,
One litle treatise I founde among the mo
Because that in youth I did compile the same,
Egloges of youth I did call it by name.
And seing some men haue in the same delite,
At their great instance I made the same perfite,
Adding and bating where I perceyued neede,
All them desiring which shall this treatise rede,
Not to be grieued with any playne sentence,
Rudely conuayed for lacke of eloquence."

The most important revelation in the whole of this interesting passage,
that relating to the author's age, seems to have been studiously overlooked
by all his biographers. If we can fix with probability the date at which
these Eclogues were published, then this, one of the most regretted of the
lacunae in his biography, will be supplied. We shall feel henceforth
treading on firmer ground in dealing with the scanty materials of his life.

From the length and favour with which the praises of the Ely Cathedral and
of Alcock its pious and munificent bishop, then but recently dead, are sung
in these poems (see p. lxviii.), it is evident that the poet must have
donned the black hood in the monastery of Ely for at least a few years.

Warton fixes the date at 1514, because of the praises of the "noble Henry
which now departed late," and the after panegyric of his successor Henry
VIII. (Eclogue I.), whose virtues are also duly recorded in the Ship of
Fools (I. 39 and II. 205-8), but not otherwise of course than in a
complimentary manner. Our later lights make this picture of the noble pair
appear both out of drawing and over-coloured:--

"Beside noble Henry which nowe departed late,
Spectacle of vertue to euery hye estate,
The patrone of peace and primate of prudence,
Which on Gods Church hath done so great expence.
Of all these princes the mercy and pitie,
The loue of concorde, iustice and equitie,
The purenes of life and giftes liberall,
Not lesse vertuous then the said princes all.
And Henry the eyght moste hye and triumphant,
No gifte of vertue nor manlines doth want,
Mine humble spech and language pastorall
If it were able should write his actes all:
But while I ought speake of courtly misery,
Him with all suche I except vtterly.
But what other princes commonly frequent,
As true as I can to shewe is mine intent,
But if I should say that all the misery,
Which I shall after rehearse and specify
Were in the court of our moste noble kinge,
I should fayle truth, and playnly make leasing."--ECLOGUE I.

This eulogy of Henry plainly implies some short experience of his reign.
But other allusions contribute more definitely to fix the precise date,
such as the following historical passage, which evidently refers to the
career of the notorious extortioners, Empson and Dudley, who were executed
for conspiracy and treason in the first year of the new king's reign.

"Such as for honour unto the court resort,
Looke seldome times upon the lower sort;
To the hyer sort for moste part they intende,
For still their desire is hyer to ascende
And when none can make with them comparison,
Against their princes conspire they by treason,
Then when their purpose can nat come well to frame,
Agayne they descende and that with utter shame,
Coridon thou knowest right well what I meane,
We lately of this experience haue seene
When men would ascende to rowmes honorable
Euer is their minde and lust insaciable."

The most definite proof of the date of publication, however, is found in
the fourth Eclogue. It contains a long poem called The towre of vertue and
honour, which is really a highly-wrought elegy on the premature and
glorious death, not of "the Duke of Norfolk, Lord High admiral, and one of
Barclay's patrons," as has been repeated parrot-like, from Warton
downwards, but of his chivalrous son, Sir Edward Howard, Lord High Admiral
for the short space of a few months, who perished in his gallant, if
reckless, attack upon the French fleet in the harbour of Brest in the year
1513. It is incomprehensible that the date of the publication of the
Eclogues should be fixed at 1514, and this blunder still perpetuated. No
Duke of Norfolk died between Barclay's boyhood and 1524, ten years after
the agreed upon date of the Elegy; and the Duke (Thomas), who was Barclay's
patron, never held the position of Lord High Admiral (though his son Lord
Thomas, created Earl of Surrey in 1514, and who afterwards succeeded him,
also succeeded his brother Sir Edward in the Admiralship), but worthily
enjoyed the dignified offices of Lord High Steward, Lord Treasurer, and
Earl Marshal, and died one of Henry's most respected and most popular
Ministers, at his country seat, at a good old age, in the year above
mentioned, 1524. The other allusions to contemporary events, and especially
to the poet's age, preclude the idea of carrying forward the publication to
the latter date, did the clearly defined points of the Elegy allow of it,
as they do not.

Minalcas, one of the interlocutors, thus introduces the subject:--

"But it is lamentable
To heare a Captayne so good and honorable,
_So soone_ withdrawen by deathes crueltie,
Before his vertue was at moste hye degree.
If death for a season had shewed him fauour,
To all his nation he should haue bene honour."

"'The Towre of Vertue and Honor,' introduced as a song of one of the
shepherds into these pastorals, exhibits no very masterly strokes of a
sublime and inventive fancy. It has much of the trite imagery usually
applied in the fabrication of these ideal edifices. It, however, shows our
author in a new walk of poetry. This magnificent tower, or castle is built
on inaccessible cliffs of flint: the walls are of gold, bright as the sun,
and decorated with 'olde historyes and pictures manyfolde:' the turrets are
beautifully shaped. Among its heroic inhabitants are Henry VIII., ['in his
maiestie moste hye enhaunsed as ought a conquerour,' no doubt an allusion
to the battle of the Spurs and his other exploits in France in 1513],
Howard Duke of Norfolk, ['the floure of chiualry'], and the Earl of
Shrewsbury, ['manfull and hardy, with other princes and men of dignitie'].
Labour is the porter at the gate, and Virtue governs the house. Labour is
thus pictured, with some degree of spirit:--

'Fearefull is labour without fauour at all,
Dreadfull of visage, a monster intreatable,
Like Cerberus lying at gates infernall;
To some men his looke is halfe intollerable,
His shoulders large, for burthen strong and able,
His body bristled, his necke mightie and stiffe;
By sturdy senewes, his ioyntes stronge and stable,
Like marble stones his handes be as stiffe.

Here must man vanquishe the dragon of Cadmus,
Against the Chimer here stoutly must he fight,
Here must he vanquish the fearefull Pegasus,
For the golden flece here must he shewe his might:
If labour gaynsay, he can nothing be right,
This monster labour oft chaungeth his figure,
Sometime an oxe, a bore, or lion wight,
Playnely he seemeth, thus chaungeth his nature,

Like as Protheus ofte chaunged his stature.
. . . . . . .
Under his browes he dreadfully doth loure,
With glistering eyen, and side dependaunt beard,
For thirst and hunger alway his chere is soure.
His horned forehead doth make faynt heartes feard.

Alway he drinketh, and yet alway is drye,
The sweat distilling with droppes aboundaunt,'
. . . . . . .

"The poet adds, 'that when the noble Howard had long boldly contended with
this hideous monster, had broken the bars and doors of the castle, had
bound the porter, and was now preparing to ascend the tower of Virtue and
Honour, Fortune and Death appeared, and interrupted his progress.'"
(Warton, Eng. Poetry, III.)

The hero's descent and knightly qualities are duly set forth:--

"Though he were borne to glory and honour,
Of auncient stocke and noble progenie,
Yet thought his courage to be of more valour,
By his owne actes and noble chiualry.
Like as becommeth a knight to fortifye
His princes quarell with right and equitie,
So did this Hawarde with courage valiauntly,
Till death abated his bolde audacitie."

The poet, gives "cursed fortune" a severe rating, and at such length that
the old lady no doubt repented herself, for cutting off so promising a hero
_at so early an age_:--

"Tell me, frayle fortune, why did thou breuiate
The liuing season of suche a captayne,
That when his actes ought to be laureate
Thy fauour turned him suffring to be slayne?"

And then he addresses the Duke himself in a consolatory strain,
endeavouring to reconcile him to the loss of so promising a son, by
recalling to his memory those heroes of antiquity whose careers of glory
were cut short by sudden and violent deaths:--

"But moste worthy duke hye and victorious,
Respire to comfort, see the vncertentie
Of other princes, whose fortune prosperous
Oftetime haue ended in hard aduersitie:
Read of Pompeius," [&c.]
. . . . . .
"This shall be, this is, and this hath euer bene,
That boldest heartes be nearest ieopardie,
To dye in battayle is honour as men wene
To suche as haue ioy in haunting chiualry.

"Suche famous ending the name doth magnifie,
Note worthy duke, no cause is to complayne,
His life not ended foule nor dishonestly,
In bed nor tauerne his lustes to maynteyne,
But like as besemed a noble captayne,
In sturdie harnes he died for the right,
From deathes daunger no man may flee certayne,
But suche death is metest vnto so noble a knight.

"But death it to call me thinke it vnright,
Sith his worthy name shall laste perpetuall," [&c.]

This detail and these long quotations have been rendered necessary by the
strange blunder which has been made and perpetuated as to the identity of
the young hero whose death is so feelingly lamented in this elegy. With
that now clearly ascertained, we can not only fix with confidence the date
of the publication of the Eclogues, but by aid of the hint conveyed in the
Prologue, quoted above (p. lv.), as to the author's age, "fortie saue
twayne," decide, for the first time, the duration of his life, and the
dates, approximately at least, of its incidents, and of the appearance of
his undated works. Lord Edward Howard, perhaps the bravest and rashest of
England's admirals, perished in a madly daring attack upon the harbour of
Brest, on the 25th of April, 1514. As the eclogues could not therefore have
been published prior to that date, so, bearing in mind the other allusions
referred to above, they could scarcely have appeared later. Indeed, the
loss which the elegy commemorates is spoken of as quite recent, while the
elegy itself bears every appearance of having been introduced into the
eclogue at the last moment. We feel quite satisfied therefore that Warton
hit quite correctly upon the year 1514 as that in which these poems first
saw the light, though the ground (the allusion to the Henries) upon which
he went was insufficient, and his identification of the hero of the elegy
contradicted his supposition. Had he been aware of the importance of fixing
the date correctly, he would probably have taken more care than to fall
into the blunder of confounding the father with the son, and adorning the
former with the dearly earned laurels of the latter.

It may be added that, fixing 1514 as the date at which Barclay had arrived
at the age of 38, agrees perfectly with all else we know of his years, with
the assumed date of his academical education, and of his travels abroad,
with the suppositions formed as to his age from his various published works
having dates attached to them, and finally, with the traditional "great
age" at which he died, which would thus be six years beyond the allotted
span.

After the Ship of Fools the Eclogues rank second in importance in a
consideration of Barclay's writings. Not only as the first of their kind in
English, do they crown their author with the honour of introducing this
kind of poetry to English literature, but they are in themselves most
interesting and valuable as faithful and graphic pictures of the court,
citizen, and country life of the period. Nowhere else in so accessible a
form do there exist descriptions at once so full and so accurate of the
whole condition of the people. Their daily life and habits, customs,
manners, sports, and pastimes, are all placed on the canvas before us with
a ready, vigorous, unflinching hand. Witness for instance the following
sketch, which might be entitled, "Life, temp. 1514":--

"Some men deliteth beholding men to fight,
Or goodly knightes in pleasaunt apparayle,
Or sturdie souldiers in bright harnes and male.
. . . . . . . .
Some glad is to see these Ladies beauteous,
Goodly appoynted in clothing sumpteous:
A number of people appoynted in like wise:
In costly clothing after the newest gise,
Sportes, disgising, fayre coursers mount and praunce,
Or goodly ladies and knightes sing and daunce:
To see fayre houses and curious picture(s),
Or pleasaunt hanging, or sumpteous vesture
Of silke, of purpure, or golde moste orient,
And other clothing diuers and excellent:
Hye curious buildinges or palaces royall,
Or chapels, temples fayre and substanciall,
Images grauen or vaultes curious;
Gardeyns and medowes, or place delicious,
Forestes and parkes well furnished with dere,
Colde pleasaunt streames or welles fayre and clere,
Curious cundites or shadowie mountaynes,
Swete pleasaunt valleys, laundes or playnes
Houndes, and suche other thinges manyfolde
Some men take pleasour and solace to beholde."

The following selections illustrative of the customs and manners of the
times will serve as a sample of the overflowing cask from which they are
taken. The condition of the country people is clearly enough indicated in a
description of the village Sunday, the manner of its celebration being
depicted in language calculated to make a modern sabbatarian's hair stand
on end:--

"What man is faultlesse, remember the village,
Howe men vplondish on holy dayes rage.
Nought can them tame, they be a beastly sort,
In sweate and labour hauing most chiefe comfort,
On the holy day assoone as morne is past,
When all men resteth while all the day doth last,
They drinke, they banket, they reuell and they iest
They leape, they daunce, despising ease and rest.
If they once heare a bagpipe or a drone,
Anone to the elme or oke they be gone.
There vse they to daunce, to gambolde and to rage
Such is the custome and vse of the village.
When the ground resteth from rake, plough and wheles,
Then moste they it trouble with burthen of their heles:

FAUSTUS.

To Bacchus they banket, no feast is festiuall,
They chide and they chat, they vary and they brall,
They rayle and they route, they reuell and they crye,
Laughing and leaping, and making cuppes drye.
What, stint thou thy chat, these wordes I defye,
It is to a vilayne rebuke and vilany.
Such rurall solace so plainly for to blame,
Thy wordes sound to thy rebuke and shame."

Football is described in a lively picture:--

"They get the bladder and blowe it great and thin,
With many beanes or peason put within,
It ratleth, soundeth, and shineth clere and fayre,
While it is throwen and caste vp in the ayre,
Eche one contendeth and hath a great delite,
With foote and with hande the bladder for to smite,
If it fall to grounde they lifte it vp agayne,
This wise to labour they count it for no payne,
Renning and leaping they driue away the colde,
The sturdie plowmen lustie, stronge and bolde,
Ouercommeth the winter with driuing the foote ball,
Forgetting labour and many a greuous fall."

A shepherd, after mentioning his skill in shooting birds with a bow,
says:--

"No shepheard throweth the axeltrie so farre."

A gallant is thus described:--

"For women vse to loue them moste of all,
Which boldly bosteth, or that can sing and iet,
Which are well decked with large bushes set,
Which hath the mastery ofte time in tournament,
Or that can gambauld, or daunce feat and gent."

The following sorts of wine are mentioned:--

"As Muscadell, Caprike, Romney, and Maluesy,
From Gene brought, from Grece or Hungary."

As are the dainties of the table. A shepherd at court must not think to
eat,

"Swanne, nor heron,
Curlewe, nor crane, but course beefe and mutton."

Again:

"What fishe is of sauor swete and delicious,--
Rosted or sodden in swete hearbes or wine;
Or fried in oyle, most saporous and fine.--
The pasties of a hart.--
The crane, the fesant, the pecocke and curlewe,
The partriche, plouer, bittor, and heronsewe--
Seasoned so well in licour redolent,
That the hall is full of pleasaunt smell and sent."

At a feast at court:--

"Slowe be the seruers in seruing in alway,
But swift be they after, taking thy meate away;
A speciall custome is vsed them among,
No good dish to suffer on borde to be longe:
If the dishe be pleasaunt, eyther fleshe or fishe,
Ten handes at once swarme in the dishe:
And if it be flesh ten kniues shalt thou see
Mangling the flesh, and in the platter flee:
To put there thy handes is perill without fayle,
Without a gauntlet or els a gloue of mayle."

"The two last lines remind us of a saying of Quin, who declared it was not
safe to sit down to a turtle-feast in one of the city-halls, without a
basket-hilted knife and fork. Not that I suppose Quin borrowed his bon-mots
from black letter books." (Warton.)

The following lines point out some of the festive tales of our ancestors:--

"Yet would I gladly heare some mery fit
Of mayde Marion, or els of Robin hood;
Or Bentleyes ale which chafeth well the bloud,
Of perre of Norwich, or sauce of Wilberton,
Or buckishe Joly well-stuffed as a ton."

He again mentions "Bentley's Ale" which "maketh me to winke;" and some of
our ancient domestic pastimes and amusements are recorded:--

"Then is it pleasure the yonge maydens amonge
To watche by the fire the winters nightes long:
At their fonde tales to laugh, or when they brall
Great fire and candell spending for laboure small,
And in the ashes some playes for to marke,
To couer wardens [pears] for fault of other warke:
To toste white sheuers, and to make prophitroles;
And after talking oft time to fill the bowles."

He mentions some musical instruments:

" . . . . Methinkes no mirth is scant,
Where no reioysing of minstrelcie doth want:
The bagpipe or fidle to vs is delectable."

And the mercantile commodities of different countries and cities:--

"Englande hath cloth, Burdeus hath store of wine,
Cornewall hath tinne, and Lymster wools fine.
London hath scarlet, and Bristowe pleasaunt red,
Fen lands hath fishes, in other place is lead."

Of songs at feasts:--

"When your fat dishes smoke hote vpon your table,
Then layde ye songes and balades magnifie,
If they be mery, or written craftely,
Ye clappe your handes and to the making harke,
And one say to other, lo here a proper warke."

He says that minstrels and singers are highly favoured at court, especially
those of the French gise. Also jugglers and pipers.

The personal references throughout the Eclogues, in addition to those
already mentioned, though not numerous, are of considerable interest. The
learned Alcock, Bishop of Ely (1486-1500), and the munificent founder of
Jesus College, Cambridge, stands deservedly high in the esteem of a poet
and priest, so zealous of good works as Barclay. The poet's humour thus
disguises him.--(Eclogue I., A iii., recto.):--

"Yes since his dayes a cocke was in the fen,
I knowe his voyce among a thousande men:
He taught, he preached, he mended euery wrong;
But, Coridon alas no good thing bideth long.
He all was a cocke, he wakened vs from slepe,
And while we slumbred, he did our foldes hepe.
No cur, no foxes, nor butchers dogges wood,
Coulde hurte our fouldes, his watching was so good.
The hungry wolues, which that time did abounde,
What time he crowed, abashed at the sounde.
This cocke was no more abashed of the foxe,
Than is a lion abashed of an oxe.
When he went, faded the floure of all the fen;
I boldly dare sweare this cocke neuer trode hen!
This was a father of thinges pastorall,
And that well sheweth his Church cathedrall,
There was I lately about the middest of May,
Coridon his Church is twenty sith more gay
Then all the Churches betwene the same and Kent,
There sawe I his tome and Chapell excellent.
I thought fiue houres but euen a little while,
Saint John the virgin me thought did on me smile,
Our parishe Church is but a dongeon,
To that gay Churche in comparison.
If the people were as pleasaunt as the place
Then were it paradice of pleasour and solace,
Then might I truely right well finde in my heart.
There still to abide and neuer to departe,
But since that this cocke by death hath left his song,
Trust me Coridon there many a thing is wrong,
When I sawe his figure lye in the Chapell-side,
Like death for weping I might no longer bide.
Lo all good thinges so sone away doth glide,
That no man liketh to long doth rest and abide.
When the good is gone (my mate this is the case)
Seldome the better reentreth in the place."

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