by John Aubrey
For the habit of doubt is an extremely recent growth, almost wholly subsequent to Newton in fact, and Aubrey often showed a scepticism that was most praiseworthy in an age when any statement was accepted just because it was made. This completely uncritical state of mind is hard for us to visualise, because it has vanished almost entirely from the modern world; except in Eire, where the people are still more likely to accept, than to reject, even the most obvious falsehood, and where, in consequence, the banshees and the fairies and the leprechauns have kept their last foothold in Europe. And in England in the seventeenth century critical thought was especially rare in connection with religion. However much the various sects might differ in their interpretation of the Bible, not one of them doubted for an instant that every word in it was absolutely and literally true; and the Bible constantly mentioned witches and spectres and portents. So Aubrey’s reservations with regard to the following story are very laudable. Anno 1679, says, After the Discovery of the Popish Plot, the Penal Laws were put in execution against the Roman Catholicks: So, that if they did not receive the Sacrament according to the Church of England in their Parish Church, they were to be severely proceeded against according to Law: Mr. Ployden, to avoid the Penalty, went to his Parish Church at Lasham near Alton in Hampshire: when Mr. Laurence (the Minister) had put the Chalice into Mr. Ployden’s hand, the Cup of it (wherein the Wine was) fell off. ’Tis true, it was out of order before; and he had a Tremor in his hand. The Communion was stopt by this accident. Religion in those days being still very primitive, portents of his kind were expected: for although various pieces of Priest-cheate had been exposed at the Reformation, many of the rites of the Church were still attended by the grossest superstition. For instance, Sinne-eaters were still in existence in Aubrey’s lifetime.
In the County of Hereford, he notes, was an old Custome at Funeralls to hire poor people, who were to take upon them all the Sinnes of the party deceased. One of these (I remember) lived in a Cottage on Rosse-high way: He was a long, leane, ugly, lamentable poor raskal. The manner was that when the Corps was brought out of the house and layd on a Biere: a Loafe of bread was brought out, and delivered to the sinne-eater over the Corps, as also a Mazar-bowle of maple (Gossips bowle) full of beer, which he was to drinke up, and sixpence in money, in consideration whereof he tooke upon him (ipso facto) all the Sinnes of the Defunct, and freed him (or her) from Walking after they were dead. This custome alludes (me thinkes) something to the Scape goat in the old Lawe. The cheapness of the price charge for the assumption of another man’s sins is most surprising, for in the days before Hell was abolished by the Privy Council, its terrors were very real, as is shown by Queen Elizabeth’s dreadful deathbed vision of herself ringed by flames. In North-Wales, the Sinne-eaters are frequently made use of, Aubrey adds, but there, instead of a Bowle of Beere, they have a bowle of Milke.
The throne also, like the Church, was surrounded by signs and portents, many of them so plausible that it is no wonder that they were believed. An Old Man (like an Hermit) Second-sighted, tooke his Leave of King James the First, when he came into England, Aubrey reports. He took, little notice of Prince Henry, James’ eldest son, who was to die at the age of eighteen, but addressing himself to the Duke of York (since Charles I.) fell a weeping to think what misfortunes he should undergo; and that he should be one of the miserablest unhappy Princes that ever was. No one believed more firmly in such omens than Charles I himself, and to the very end of his life he was dogged by these coincidences. The Head of King Charles Is. Staff did fall off at his Tryal, says Aubrey, that is commonly known.
It was at coronations, however, that superstition had the fullest play. King Charles II. was Crowned at the very conjunction of the Sun and Mercury, Aubrey reports. As the King was at Dinner in Westminster Hall, it Thundered and Lightned extreamly: The Canons and the Thunder played together. But the second Charles was no superstitious man, and it was not until the crowning of his brother that the portents worried a King again. Aubrey was present at this ceremony and he carefully recorded the catastrophes, which foreshadowed so clearly the disastrous end of King James’ troublous reign. When King James II. was Crowned (according to the Ancient Custom, the Peers go to the Throne, and kiss the King). The Crown was almost kiss’d off his Head. An Earl did sett it right: and as he came from the Abbey to Westminster-Hall, the Crown totter’d extreamly.
The Canopy carried over King James IIs. Head by the Wardens of the Cinque Ports, was torn by a puff of Wind as he came to Westminster-hall: It hung down very lamentably: I saw it. ’Twas of Cloath of gold & my strength (I am confident) could not have rent it and it was not a windy day.
The top of his Scepter (Flower de Lis) did then fall, which the Earl of Peterborough took up. Nor was this all. Upon Saint Mark’s day, after the Coronation of King James II, were prepared stately Fire-works on the Thames. It happened, that they took fire all together, and it was so dreadful, that several Spectators leap’d into the River, choosing rather to be drown’d than burn’d. In a Yard by the Thames was my Lord Powys’s Coach and Horses: The Horses were so frightened by the Fire works, that the Coachman was not able to stop them, but ran over one who with great difficulty recovered.
These accidents seemed to prove that the throne was once again of interest to the supernatural powers, for the profligacy of Charles II was so gross that, according to Anthony Wood, “in the latter end of Nov. 1675, a pillion was set behind the statue of King Charles II on horseback at Stoks Market and on the horse’s brest writ on paper:—Hast, post-hast for a Midwife,” and serious doubts had begun to arise as to whether he could really be the instrument of God’s healing. Dr. Ralph Bathurst, Dean of Wells and one of the Chaplains to King Charles, who is no Superstitious Man, protested to me that the curing of the King’s Evill by the Touch of the King does puzzle his Philosophie: for whether they were of the House of Yorke, or Lancaster, it did. ’Tis true (indeed) there are Prayers read at the Touching, but neither the King minds them nor the Chaplains. Nevertheless the belief in the King’s miraculous power was still strong. Arise Evans, says Aubrey, had a fungous Nose, and said, it was reveal’d to him, that the King’s Hand would Cure him: And at the first coming of King Charles II into St. Jame’s Park he kiss’d the King’s Hand, and rubb’d his Nose with it; which disturb’d the King, but Cured him. But Aubrey was not deceived by this seeming proof. In Somersetshire, he added, ’tis confidently reported that some were Cured of the King’s-evil, by the Touch of the Duke of Monmouth: The Lord Chancellor Bacon saith, That Imagination is next Kin to Miracle-working Faith.
And so it seems that belief in the supernatural was not entirely pointless, when it could be turned to such excellent practical uses. Nor was it confined entirely to medical aid: advice about careers was sometimes given in this roundabout way: Mr. Brograve of Hamel near Puckbridge in Hertfordshire when he was a young Man, Riding in a Lane in that Country, had a blow given him on his Cheek (or Head): He look’d back, and saw that no body was near, behind him; anon, he had such another Blow: I have forgot if a Third. He turn’d back and fell to the Study of the Law; and was afterwards a Judge. And the whereabouts of lost wills and buried treasure were so constantly being hinted at in dreams, that it led occasionally to the most unfortunate results: One Daniel Healy, of Donaghmore, in Ireland, having three different times dreamed that Money lay concealed under a large Stone in a field near where he lived, procured some Workmen to assist him in removing it, and when they had dug as far as the foundation, it fell suddenly and killed Healy on the spot. However the best use of the gullibility of the time was made by Mris. Abbott, the wife of a poor Cloathworker at Guildford, who, by means of an elaborate confidence trick, procured so good an education for her son that the child came, by degrees, to be Arch-Bishop of Canterbury.
It can be seen, therefore, that a proper use of superstition could bring a rich reward; and it was also an admirable excuse for inefficiency. For instance, after a vast amount of money had been spent on boring for coal in Su
rrey, only to end in failure, Mr. William Lilly (Astrologer) was quick to blame the Subterranean Spirits: For as fast as the Irons were put in they would snap off. It was this use which Aubrey made of astrology. Thomas Morgan was unfortunate and idle, he says of one of his friends, seemed to have Saturne much his Enemie. And having convinced himself that in like manner the loss of his own estates was due entirely to the stars being against him, Aubrey turned back to his life without repining when all was gone.
Only one regret still lingered. I wished Monastarys had not been putt down, he complained, that the Reformers would have been more moderate as to that point. Nay, the Turkes have Monasteries. The Reformers in the Lutheran Countrys were more prudent then to destroy them: only altered the religion. Why should our Reformers be so severe? For now that he was run out of his estates, Aubrey could have made good use of the Convenience of Religious houses, for he thought it fitt there should be receptacles and provision for Contemplative men. What a pleasure ’twould have been to have travelled from Monastery to Monastery, he sighed, and wished himself back in the old Catholic England, before the Pope, with all his Authority, was clean banished the Realm.
Then the Crusado’s to the Holy-warres were most magnificent and glorious, Aubrey says, and the rise I beleeve of the adventures of Knights Errants, and Romances. The solemnities of Processions in and about the Churches, and the Perambulations in the Fields, besides their convenience, were fine pleasing diversions. The Priestes went before in their Formalities, singing the Latin-service, and the people came after making their good-meaning-responses. The Reverence given to Holy-men was very great: then were the Churches open all day long, men and women going in and out hourely to and from their Devotions. Then were the Consciences of the people kept in so great awe by Confession: that Just dealing and vertue was habitual.
This Countrey, he continues, speaking of his native Wiltshire, was very full of Religious howses: a man could not have travelled but he must have mett Monkes, Fryars, Bonne Hommes, &c. in their several habits, black, white, gray, &c: and the tingle-tangle of the Convent-bells I fancie made very pretty musique, like College bells at Oxford.
Then were no Free-schooles: the boyes were educated at the Monasteries. The young mades (not at Hakney, Say schooles, &c. to learn pride and wantonnesse) but at the Nunneries, where they had examples of Piety, humilitie and modestie to imitate and practise. Here they learned Needle-worke, and the art of Confectionary: Surgery (anciently no apothecaries or Surgeons—the gentlewoemen did cure their poore neighbours: their hands are now too fine) Physicke, Writing, Drawing, etc.
Old Jacquer (who lived where Charles Hadnam did) could see from his House, the Nuns of the Priory of St. Mary (juxta Kington) come into the Nymph-Hay with their Rocks and Wheels to spin, and with their Solving Work. He would say that he hath told threescore and ten: tho’ of Nuns there were not so many: but in all, with Lay-Sisters, as Widows, old Maids, and young Girles, there might be such a Number. This was a fine way of breeding-up young woemen, who are led more by Example, then Precept; and a good Retirement for Widows and grave single Women, to a civil, vertuous, and holy Life.
Plato saies that the foundation of Government is the Education of youth: by this meanes, it is most probable that this was a Golden-age.
And now Aubrey was well away on his reminiscences. Let us imagine then what kind of Countrie this was in the time of the ancient Britons, he says, by the nature of the soile, which is a soure, woodsere land, very natural for the production of oaks especially. One may conclude that this North-division was a shady dismall wood; and the inhabitants almost as salvage as the Beasts, whose Skins were their only rayment. They were 2 or 3 degrees I suppose less salvage than the Americans.
The Romans subdued and civilised them, however, but after they withdrew, here was a mist of Ignorance for 600 years. They were so far from knowing Arts, that they could not build a wall with stone. They lived sluttishly in poor houses, where they eat a great deal of beef and mutton, and drank good Ale in a brown mazard; and their very Kings were but a Sort of Farmers.
After the Christian Religion was planted here, it gave a great Shoote, and the Kings and great men gave vast revenues to the Church, who were ignorant enough in those Days. The Normans then came and taught them civility and building; which though it was Gothiq, as also their Policy (Feudalis Lex), yet they were magnificent.
For the Government, ’till the time of King Henry 8, it was like a nest of boxes; for Copy-holders (who till then were Villaines) held of the Lords of the Mannor, who held of a superior Lord, who held perhaps of another superior Lord or Duke, who held of the King. Upon any occasion of Bustling, or Tournaments in those Days, one of these great Lords sounded his Trumpets (the Lords then kept Trumpeters; even to King James) and summon’d those that held under them. Those again sounded their trumpetts, and so downward to the Copy-holders.
The Lords (then Lords in deed as well as Title) liv’d in their countries like petty Kings, had jura regalia belonging to their signories, had their Castles and Burroughes, and sent Burgesses to the Lower House; had Gallows within their Liberties where they could try, condemn, hang and drawe; never went up to London but in Parliament-time, or once a yeare to do their homage and duty to the King.
No younger brothers then were, by the Custom and constitution of the Realme, to betake themselves to Trades, but were Church-men, or Retainers or Servants to great Men: rid good horses (now and then took a purse) and their bloud that was bred at the good Tables of their Masters was upon every occasion freely lett out in their Quarrels. It was then too common amongst their Masters to have Feuds with one another, and their servants at Market or where they met (in that slashing age) did commonly bang one anothers Bucklers.
The poor boyes did turn the Spitts, and lick’t the dripping-pan, and grew to be huge lusty knaves.
In those dayes the Gentry begott their own servants and copyhold tenants (the custom of Lying with the Bride the first night).
No Ale-houses nor yet Innes then, unlesse upon great roades: when they had a minde to drinke they went to the Friaries; and when they travilled they had entertainement at the Religious howses for 3 dayes, if occasion so long required. The meeting of the Country was not then at tipling-howses, but in the Fields or Forests with their Hawkes or Howndes, with their bugle-hornes in silken baudries.
Such Joy and merriment was every Holiday; which dayes were kept with great Solempnitie and reverence. In Herefordshire and parts of the Marches of Wales, the Tabor and pipe were exceeding common. Many beggars begd with it: and the Peasants danced to it in the Churchyard on Holy dayes and Holy-day-eves. Now it is almost lost: the Drumme and Trumpet have putt that peaceable Musique to silence.
In those times (besides the jollities already mentioned) they had their Pilgrimages to several shrines, as chiefly hereabout, to St. Joseph of Arimathea at his Chapil in Glastonbury-abby. In the roades thither were severall howses of entertaynment built purposely for them.
The disappearance of these howses of entertaynement was obviously a great blow to Aubrey, but he was not long in finding out their modern counterpart. Though he was by now divested of all, he was safe by means of his family connections from actual want, for as he puts it Providence raysed me (unexpectedly) good friends, with one or other of whom he managed to spend the remainder of his days. There was the Right Honourable Nicholas, Earl of Thanet, with whom I was delitescent at Hethfield in Kent neer a yeare: Sir Christopher Wren: Mr. Ogilby: then Edmund Wyld Esq. R.S.S. tooke me into his Armes, with whom I most commonly take my Diet and sweet Otium’s. This latter was a man after Aubrey’s own heart, as is shown by Roger North’s description of him. “One Mr. Wyld, a rich Philosopher, lived in Bloomsbury. He was single, and his house a sort of knick-knack-atory. This gentleman was of a superior order, and valued himself upon new inventions of his own. He sowed salads in the morning to be cut for dinner; and claimed the invention of painted curtains, in varnish, upon silk; which would bend and not crack; and his house was furnishe
d with them: and he delighted in nothing more than in showing his multifarious contrivances.” So it can be imagined that Aubrey was in his element in this place, helping in the experiments, wondering why in the autumn beads of sweat appeared on his host’s patent curtains, and drinking and talking his fill. Mr. Wyld, he says proudly, will undertake to prepare an Earth (’twill be neare a halfe a yeare preparing;) that shall produce Wheate without sowing: and he believes he can doe the like for Pease. And so sure was his host of success that he was prepared to back his judgement with solid cash. Edmund Wyld, Esq. R.R.S., Aubrey explained at greater length, hath had a pott of Composition in his garden these 7 yeares, that beares nothing at all: not so much as grasse, or mosse. He makes this Challenge, if any Man will give him twenty pounds, he will give him an hundred if it doth not beare Wheat spontaneously: and the Party shall keep the Key: and he shall sift the Earth Composition with a fine Sieve; so that he may be sure, there are no graines of Wheat in it. He hath also a Composition for Pease: but that he will not warrant not having tryed it. But the wager found no takers, for Edmund Wyld was famous for his skill in gardening. London. Bloomesbery. August 12. 1684., Aubrey noted on another occasion, my honoured Friend Edmund Wyld, Esq. did just before we sate down to dinner, sow in an Earthen Porringer of prepared Earth, Seeds of Parsley, Prunella, Balme, &c. The Porringer was sett on a chafing dish of Coales: and by the time we had ended Dinner (which was about an hower ½) seeds sprang visibly up, scilicet, nineteen, or 20 young plants. Their Leaves as big as common Pinnes heads: by and by appeared more, so that the Dish was full: Some of the Plants being drawn-out with a paire of pliers, the stalkes were about ½ inch long. About two or three houres after the Soweing, the Dish was exposed in the garden subdio: That night it happened to raine very hard all night, yet they all lived, and flourished till about the middle of September: and then they began to wither. Some of them lived till Michaelmass: and some till 8th or 10th of October following. I was one of the Four (besides Mr. Wyld) that was an Eye-witnesse of this Experiment. The Dish remaines in the Garden to this day (Feb. 7. 16), he concludes, but no vegetable at all did ever growe in it since. And to make this the ideal home for Aubrey “most of the ingenious persons about town visited” his host; it is no wonder, therefore, that he sounded so complacent when he noted: I now indulge my genius with my friends and pray for the young angels.