Harold Bayley

“But all the beauty of the pleasaunce drew its being from the song of the bird; for from his chant flowed love which gives its shadow to the tree, its healing to the simple, and its colour to the flower. Without that song the fountain would have ceased to spring, and the green garden become a little dry dust, for in its sweetness lay all their virtue.”—ProvenÇal Fairy Tale.

Among the relics preserved at the monastery of St. Nicholas of Bari is a club with which the saint, who is said to have become a friar at the age of eleven, was beaten by the devil: a club was the customary symbol of Hercules; the Celtic Hercules was, as has been seen, depicted as a baldhead leading a rout of laughter-loving followers by golden chains fastened to their ears, and as it was the habit of St. Nicholas-of-the-Club to wander abroad singing after the ancient fashion, one may be sure that Father Christmas is the lineal descendant of the British Ogmios or Mighty Muse, alias the Wandering Jew or Joy. That Bride “the gentle” was at times similarly equipped is obvious from a ceremony which in Scotland and the North of England used to prevail at Candlemas: “the mistress and servants of each family take a sheaf of oats and dress it up in woman’s apparel, put it in a large basket and lay a wooden club by it, and this they call “Briid’s Bed,” and then the mistress and servants cry three times: “Briid is come, Briid is welcome”! This they do just before going to bed”: another version of this custom records the cry as—“Bridget, Bridget, come is; thy bed is ready”.

In an earlier chapter we connected Iupiter or Jupiter with Aubrey or Oberon, and that this roving Emperor of Phairie Land was familiar to the people of ancient Berkshire is implied not only by a river in that county termed the Auborn, but also by adjacent place-names such as Aberfield, Burfield, Purley, and Bray. Skeat connotes Bray (by Maidenhead) with “Old English braw, Mercian breg, an eyebrow,” but what sensible or likely connection is supposed to exist between the town of Bray and an eyebrow I am unable to surmise: we have, however, considered the prehistoric “butterfly” or eyebrows, and it is not impossible that Bray was identified with this mysterious Epeur (Cupid) or Amoretto. The claims to ubiquity and antiquity put by the British poet into the mouth of Taliesin or Radiant Brow—the mystic child of Nine constituents[766]—is paralleled by the claims of Irish Ameurgin, likewise by the claims of Solomonic “Wisdom,” and there is little doubt that the symbolic forms of the “Teacher to all Intelligences” are beyond all computation.

That Berkshire, the shire of the White Horse, was a seat of beroc or El Borak the White Horse is further implied by the name Berkshire: according to Camden this originated “some say from Beroc, a certain wood where box grew in great plenty”; according to others from a disbarked oak [i.e., a bare oak!] to which when the state was in more than ordinary danger the inhabitants were wont to resort in ancient times to consult about their public affairs”.[767] Overlooking Brockley in Kent is an Oak of Honor Hill, and probably around that ancient and possibly bare Oak the natives of old Brockley or Brock Meadow met in many a consultation.[768] At Coventry is Berkswell: Berkeleys are numerous, and that these sites were abris or sanctuaries is implied by the official definition of Great Berkhamstead, i.e., “Sheltered, home place, or fortified farm”.

At St. Breock in Cornwall there is a pair of Longstones, one measuring 12 feet 4 inches, the other 8 feet, and in all probability at some time or other these pierres or petras were symbols of the phairy Pair who were the Parents and Protectors of the district. At St. Columb in Cornwall there is a Longstone known as “The Old Man”: now measuring 7 feet 6 inches, in all probability this stone was originally 8 feet high; it was also “once apparently surrounded by a small circle”.

Fig. 419.—British. From Akerman.

In the British coin here illustrated the Old Man jogging along with a club is probably Cun the Great One, or the Aged One. The brow of Honor Oak ridge is known as Canonbie Lea, which may be resolved into the “meadow of the abode of King On”: from this commanding height one may contemplate all London lying in the valley; facing it are the highlands of Cuneburn, Kenwood, Caenwood, and St. John’s Wood. London stone is situated in what is now termed Cannon Street—a supposed corruption of Candlewick Street: the greater probability is that the name is connected with the ancient Kenning or Watch Tower, known as a burkenning, which once occupied the site now marked by Tower Royal in Cannon Street: the ancient Cenyng Street by Mikelgate at York, or Eboracum—a city attributed to a King Ebrauc who will probably prove to be identical with Saint Breock—marked in all likelihood the site of a similar broch, burgkenning, barbican, or watch tower. One may account for ancient Candlewick by the supposition that this district was once occupied by a candle factory, or that it was the property of a supposititious Kendal, who was identical with the Brook, Brick, or Broken of the neighbouring Brook’s wharf, Brickhill, and Broken wharf. At Kendal in Westmorland, situated on the river Can or Kent, around which we find Barnside, the river Burrow or Borrow, and Preston Hall, we find also a Birbeck, and the memories of a Lord Parr: this district was supposedly the home of the Concanni. The present site of Highbury Barn Tavern by Canonbury (London) was once occupied by a “camp” in what was known as Little St. John’s Wood,[769] and as this part of London is not conspicuously “high,” it is not improbable that Highbury was once an abri: in the immediate neighbourhood still exists Paradise Road, Paradise Passage, Aubert Park and a Calabria Road which may possibly mark the site of an original Kil abria. At Highbury is Canonbury Tower, whence tradition says an underground passage once extended to the priory of St. John’s in Clerkenwell: from Highbury to the Angel at Islington there runs an Upper Street: upper is the Greek hyper meaning over (German uber), and that the celebrated “Angel” was originally a fairy or Bellinga, is somewhat implied by the neighbouring Fairbank Street—once a fairy bank?—and by Bookham Street—once a home of Bogie or Puck? From Canonbie Lea at Honor Oak, Brockley (London), one overlooks Peckham, Bickley, Beckenham, and Bellingham, the last named being decoded by the authorities into home of Belling.

We have noted the tradition at Brentford of Two Kings “united yet divided twain at once,” yet there is also an extant ballad which commences—

The noble king of Brentford

Was old and very sick.

The Cornish hill of Godolphin was also known as Godolcan, and in view of the connection between Nicolas and eleven it may be assumed that this site was sacred either to Elphin, the elven, the Holy King, or the Old King. At Highbury is an Old Cock Tavern, and in Upper Street an Old Parr Inn: not improbably Old Parr was once the deity of “Upper” Street or “Highbury,” and it is also not unlikely that the St. Peter of Westminster was similarly Old Parr, for according to The History of Signboards—“‘The Old Man,’ Market Place, Westminster, was probably intended for Old Parr, who was celebrated in ballads as ‘The Olde, Olde, Very Olde Manne’. The token represents a bearded bust in profile, with a bare head.[770] In the reign of James I. it was the name of a tavern in the Strand, otherwise called the Hercules Tavern, and in the eighteenth century there were two coffee-houses, the one called ‘the Old Man’s,’ the other ‘the Young Man’s’ Coffee-house.”[771]

If the Old, Old, Very Old Man were Peter the white-haired warden of the walls of Heaven it is obvious that the Young Man would be Pierrot: it is not by accident that white-faced Pierrot, or Peterkin, or Pedrolino, is garbed in white and wears a conical white cap, the legend that accounts for this curious costume being to the effect that years and years ago St. Peter and St. Joseph were once watching (from a burkenning?) over a wintry plain from the walls of Paradise, when they beheld what seemed a pink rose peering out from beneath the snow; but instead of being a rose it proved to be the face of a child, who St. Peter picked up in his arms, whereupon the snow and rime were transformed into an exquisite white garment. It was intended that the little Peter should remain unsullied, but, as it happened, the Boy, having wandered from Paradise, started playing Ring-o-Roses on a village green where a little girl tempted him to talk: then the trouble began, for Pierrot speckled his robe, and St. Peter was unable to allow him in again; but he gave him big black buttons and a merry heart, and there the story ends.[772]

In Pantomime—which has admittedly an ancestry of august antiquity—the counterpart to Pierrot is Columbine, or the Little Dove; doubtless the same Maiden as the Virgin Martyr of St. Columb, Cornwall: this parish is situated in what was termed “The Hundred of Pydar”; in Welsh Bibles Peter is rendered Pedr, and one of the Welsh bards refers to Stonehenge as “the melodious quaternion of Pedyr”: in Cornwall there is also a Padstow or Petroxstowe, and there is no doubt that Peter, like Patrick, was the Supreme Padre or Parent. According to the native ancient ecclesiastical records of Wales known as the Iolo MSS., the native name of St. Patrick was Maenwyn, which means stone sacred: hence one may assume that the island of Battersea or Patrixeye was the abode of the padres who ministered at the neighbouring shrine of St. Peter or petra, the Rock upon which the church of Christ is traditionally built.

Fig. 420.—From A New Description of England (1724).

At Patrixbourne in Kent was a seat known as Bifrons, once in the possession of a family named Cheyneys:[773] whether there be any connection between this estate named Bifrons and Bifrons, or Two fronted, a sobriquet applied to Janus, I am unaware: the connection Cheyneys—Bifrons—Patrixbourne is, however, the more curious inasmuch as they immediately neighbour a Bekesbourne, and on referring to Peckham we find that a so-termed Janus bifrons was unearthed there some centuries ago. The peculiarity of this Peckham Janus is that, unlike any other Janus-head I know, it obviously represents a Pater and Mater, and not two Paters, or a big and little Peter. The feminine of Janus is Jane or Iona, and at Iona in Scotland there existed prior to the Reformation when they were thrown into the sea, some remarkable petrÆ, to wit, three noble marble globes placed in three stone basins, which the inhabitants turned three times round according to the course of the sun:[774] these were known as clacha brath or Stones of Judgment.

Tradition connects St. Columba of Iona in the Hebrides with Loch Aber, or, as it was sometimes written, Loch Apor, and among the stories which the honest Adamnan received and recorded “nothing doubting from a certain religious, ancient priest,” is one to the effect that Columba on a memorable occasion, turning aside to the nearest rock, prayed a little while on bended knees, and rising up after prayer blessed the brow of the same rock, from which thereupon water bubbled up and flowed forth abundantly. With the twelve-mouthed petra or rock of Moses which, according to Rabbinic tradition, followed the Israelites into the wilderness, may be connoted the rock-gushing fountain at Petrockstowe, Cornwall. That St. Patrick was Shony the Ocean-deity, to whom the Hebrideans used to pour out libations, is deducible from the legend that on the day of St. Patrick’s festival the fish all rise from the sea, pass in procession before his altar, and then disappear. The personality of the great St. Patrick of the Paddys is so remarkably obscure that some hagiographers conclude there were seven persons known by that name; others distinguish three, and others recognise two, one of whom was known as “Sen Patrick,” i.e., the senile or senior Patrick: there is little doubt that the archetypal Patrick was represented indifferently as young and old and as either seven, three, two, or one: whence perhaps the perplexity and confusion of the hagiographers.

It is not improbable that the Orchard Street at Westminster may mark the site of a burial ground or “Peter’s Orchard,” similar to that which was uncovered in Wiltshire in 1852: this was found on a farm at Seagry, one part of which had immemorially been known as “Peter’s Orchard”.[775] From generation to generation it had been handed down that in a certain field on this farm a church was built upon the site of an ancient heathen burial ground, and the persistence of the heathen tradition is seemingly presumptive evidence, not only of inestimable age, but of the memory of a pre-Christian Peter.

It may be assumed that “Peter’s Orchard” was originally an apple orchard or an Avalon similar to the “Heaven’s Walls,” which were discovered some years ago near Royston: these “walls,” immediately contiguous to the Icknield or Acnal Way, were merely some strips of unenclosed but cultivated land which in ancient deeds from time immemorial had been called “Heaven’s Walls”. Traditional awe attached to this spot, and village children were afraid to traverse it after dark, when it was said to be frequented by supernatural beings: in 1821 some labourers digging for gravel on this haunted spot inadvertently discovered a wall enclosing a rectangular space containing numerous deposits of sepulchral urns, and it then became clear that here was one of those plots of ground environed by walls to which the Romans gave the name of ustrinum.[776]

The old Welsh graveyards were frequently circular, and there is a notable example of this at Llanfairfechan: the Llanfair here means holy enclosure of Fair or Mairy, and it is probable that Fechan’s round churchyard was a symbol of the Fire Ball or Fay King. At Fore in Ireland the Solar wheel figures notably at the church of “Saint” Fechan on an ancient doorway illustrated herewith. That the Latin ustrinum was associated with the Uster or Easter of resurrection is likely enough, for both Romans and Greeks had a practice of planting roses in their graveyards: as late as 1724 the inhabitants of Ockley or Aclea in Surrey had “a custom here, time immemorial, of planting rose trees in the graves, especially by the young men and maidens that have lost their lovers, and the churchyard is now full of them”.[777] That “The Walls of Heaven” by Royston was associated with roses is implied by the name Royston, which was evidently a rose-town, for it figures in old records as Crux Roies, Croyrois, and Villa de cruce Rosia. The expression “God’s Acre” still survives, seemingly from that remote time when St. Kit of Royston, the pre-Christian “God,” was worshipped at innumerable Godshills, Godstones, Gaddesdens, and Goodacres.

Fig. 421.—From The Age of the Saints (Borlase, W. C.).

Tradition asserts that the abbey church of St. Peter’s at Westminster occupies the site of a pagan temple to Apollo—the Etrurian form of Apollo was Aplu, and there is no doubt that the sacred apple of the Druids was the symbol of the “rubicund, radiant Elphin” or Apollo. According to Malory, a certain Sir Patrise lies buried in Westminster, and this knight came to his untoward end by eating an apple, whereupon “suddenly he brast (burst)”:[778] from this parallel to the story of St. Margaret erupting from a dragon it is probable that Sir Patrise was the original patron of Westminster, or ancient Thorney Eye. Patera was a generic title borne by the ministers at Apollo’s shrines, and as glorious Apollo was certainly the Shine, it is more than likely that Petersham Park at Sheen, where still stands a supposedly Roman petra or altar-stone, was a park or enclosure sacred to Peter, or, perhaps, to Patrise of the apple-bursting story.

The Romans applied the title Magonius to the Gaulish and British Apollo; sometimes St. Patrick is mentioned as Magounus, and it is probable that both these epithets are Latinised forms of the British name Magon: the Druidic Magon who figures in the traditions of Cumberland is in all probability the St. Mawgan whose church neighbours that of the Maiden St. Columb in the Hundred of Pydar in Cornwall.

One of the principal towns in Westmorland is Appleby, which was known to the Romans as Abellaba: the Maiden Way of Westmorland traverses Appleby, starting from a place called Kirkby Thore, and here about 200 years ago was found the supposed “amulet or magical spell,” illustrated in Fig. 422. The inscription upon the reverse is in Runic characters, which some authorities have read as Thor Deus Patrius; and if this be correct the effigy would seem to be that of the solar Sir Patrise, for apparently the object in the right hand is an apple: there is little doubt that the great Pater figures at Patterdale, at Aspatria, and at the river Peterill, all of which are in this neighbourhood, and in all probability the Holy Patrise or Aspatria was represented by the culminating peak known as the “Old Man” of Coniston.

Some experts read the legend on Fig. 422 as Thurgut Luetis, meaning “the face or effigies of the God Thor”: according to others Thurgut was the name of the moneyer or mintmaster; according to yet others the coin was struck in honour of a Danish Admiral named Thurgut: where there is such acute diversity of opinion it is permissible to suggest that Thurgut—whose effigy is seemingly little suggestive of a sea-dog—was originally the Three Good or the Three God, for the figure’s sceptre is tipped by the three circles of Good Thought, Good Deed, and Good Word. In Berkshire the country people, like the Germans with their drei, say dree instead of three, and thus it may be that the Apples Three, or the Apollos Three (for the ancients recognised Three Apollos—the celestial, the terrestrial, and the infernal) were worshipped at Appledre, or Appledore opposite Barnstable, and at Appledur Comb or Appledurwell, a manor in the parish of Godshill, Isle of Wight.

Fig. 422.—From A New Description of England.

English “Appletons” are numerous, and at Derby is an Appletree which was originally Appletrefelde: it is known that this Apple-Tree-Field contained an apple-tree which was once the meeting place of the Hundred or Shire division, and it is probable that the two Apuldre’s of Devon served a similar public use. As late as 1826 it was the custom, at Appleton in Cheshire, “at the time of the wake to clip and adorn an old hawthorn which till very lately stood in the middle of the town. This ceremony is called the bawming (dressing) of Appleton Thorn”.[779] Doubtless Appleton Thorn was originally held in the same estimation as the monument bushes of Ireland, which are found for the most part in the centre of road crossings. According to the anonymous author of Irish Folklore,[780] these ancient and solitary hawthorns are held in immense veneration, and it would be considered profanation to destroy them or even remove any of their branches: from these fairy and phooka-haunted sites, a lady dressed in a long flowing white robe was often supposed to issue, and “the former dapper elves are often seen hanging from or flitting amongst their branches”. We have in an earlier chapter considered the connection between spikes and spooks, and it is obvious that the White Lady or Alpa of the white thorn or aubespine is the Banshee or Good Woman Shee:—

In the forest of Breceliande—doubtless part of the fairy Hy Breasil—was a famed Fountain of Baranton or Berendon into which children threw tribute to the invocation, “Laugh, then, fountain of Berendon, and I will give thee a pin”.[782] The first pin was presumably a spine or thorn; the first flower is the black-thorn; on 1st January (the first day of the first month), people in the North of England used to construct a blackthorn globe and stand hand in hand in a circle round the fire chanting in a monotonous voice the words “Old Cider,” prolonging each syllable to its utmost extent. I think that Old Cider must have been Thurgut, and that in all probability the initial Ci was sy, the ubiquitous endearing diminutive of pucksy, pixie, etc.

According to Maundeville, “white thorn hath many virtues; for he that beareth a branch thereof upon him, no thunder nor tempest may hurt him; and no evil spirit may enter in the house in which it is, or come to the place that it is in”: Maundeville refers to this magic thorn as the aubespine, which is possibly a corruption of alba thorn, or it may be of Hob’s thorn. In modern French aube means the dawn.

We have seen that there are some grounds for surmising that Brawn Street and Bryanstone Square (Marylebone) mark the site of a Branstone or fairy stone, in which connection it may be noted that until recently: “near this spot was a little cluster of cottages called ‘Apple Village’”:[783] in the same neighbourhood there are now standing to-day a Paradise Place, a Paradise Passage, and Great Barlow Street, which may quite possibly mark the site of an original Bar low or Bar lea. Apple Village was situated in what was once the Manor of Tyburn or Tyburnia: according to the “Confession” of St. Patrick the saint’s grandfather came from “a village of Tabernia,”[784] and it is probable that the Tyburn brook, upon the delta of which stands St. Peter’s (Westminster), was originally named after the Good Burn or Oberon of Bryanstone and the neighbouring Brawn Street. The word tabernacle is traceable to the same roots as tavern, French auberge, English inn.

Around the effigy of Thurgut will be noted either seven or eight M’s: in mediÆval symbolism the letter M stood usually for Mary; the parish church of Bryanstone Square is dedicated to St. Mary, and we find the Virgin very curiously associated with one or more apple-trees. According to the author of St. Brighid and Her Times: “Bardism offers nothing higher in zeal or deeper in doctrine than the Avallenan, or Song of the Apple-trees, by the Caledonian Bard, Merddin Wyllt. He describes his Avallenan as being one Apple-tree, the Avallen, but in another sense it was 147 apple-trees, that is, mystically (taking the sum of the digits, 1 4 7 equal 12), the sacred Druidic number. Thus in his usual repeated description of the Avallen as one apple-tree, he writes:—

Again, as 147 apple trees—

Again—

In fairy-tale the apple figures as the giver of rejuvenescence and new life, in Celtic mythology it figures as the magic Silver Branch which corresponds to Virgil’s Golden Bough. According to Irvine the word bran meant not only the Druidical system, but was likewise applied to individual Druids who were termed brans: I have already suggested that this “purely mystical and magical name” is our modern brain; according to all accounts the Druids were eminently men of brain, whence it is possible that the fairy-tale “Voyage of Bran” and the Voyage of St. Brandon were originally brainy inventions descriptive of a mental voyage of which any average brain is still capable. The Voyage of Bran relates how once upon a time Bran the son of Fearbal[785] heard strange music behind him, and so entrancing were the sounds that they lulled him into slumber: when he awoke there lay by his side a branch of silver so resplendent with white blossom that it was difficult to distinguish the flowers from the branch. With this fairy talisman, which served not only as a passport but as food and drink, and as a maker of music so soothing that mortals who heard it forgot their woes and even ceased to grieve for their kinsmen whom the Banshee had taken, Bran voyaged to the Islands called Fortunate, wherein he perceived and heard many strange and beautiful things:—

In Wales on 1st January children used to carry from door to door a holly-decked apple into which were fixed three twigs—presumably an emblem of the Apple Island or Island of Apollo, supported on the three sweet notes of the Awen or creative Word. Into this tripod apple were stuck oats:[786] the effigy of St. Bride which used to be carried from door to door consisted of a sheaf of oats; in Anglo-Saxon oat was ate, plural aten, and it is evident that oats were peculiarly identified with the Maiden.

In Cormac’s Adventure in the Land of Promise there again enters the magic Silver Branch, with three golden apples on it: “Delight and amusement to the full was it to listen to the music of that branch, for men sore wounded or women in childbed or folk in sickness would fall asleep, at the melody when that branch was shaken”. The Silver Branch which seems to have been sometimes that of the Apple, sometimes of the Whitethorn, corresponds to the mistletoe or Three-berried and Three-leaved Golden Bough: until recent years a bunch of Mistletoe or “All Heal”—the essential emblem of Yule—used to be ceremoniously elevated to the proclamation of a general pardon at York or Ebor: it is still the symbol of an affectionate cumber or gathering together of kinsmen. King Camber is said to have been the son of Brutus; he was therefore, seemingly, the young St. Nicholas or the Little Crowned King, and in Cumberland the original signification of the “All Heal” would appear to have been traditionally preserved. In Tales and Legends of the English Lakes Mr. Wilson Armistead records that many strange tales are still associated with the Druidic stones, and in the course of one of these alleged authentic stories he prints the following Invocation:—

In view of the survival elsewhere of Druidic chants and creeds which are unquestionably ancient, it is quite possible that in the above we have a genuine relic of prehistoric belief: that the ideas expressed were actually held might without difficulty be proved from many scattered and independent sources; that Cumberland has clung with extraordinary tenacity to certain ancient forms is sufficiently evident from the fact that even to-day the shepherds of the Borrowdale district tell their sheep in the old British numerals, yan, tyan, tethera, methera,[787] etc.

The most famous of all English apple orchards was the Avalon of Somerset which as we have seen was encircled by the little river Brue: with Avalon is indissolubly associated the miraculous Glastonbury Thorn, and that Avalon[788] was essentially British and an abri of King Bru or Cynbro is implied by its alternative title of Bride Hay or Bride Eye: not only is St. Brighid said to have resided at Avalon or the Apple Island, but among the relics long faithfully preserved there were the blessed Virgin’s scrip, necklace, distaff, and bell. The fact that the main streets of Avalon form a perfect cross may be connoted with Sir John Maundeville’s statement that while on his travels in the East he was shown certain apples: “which they call apples of Paradise, and they are very sweet and of good savour. And though you cut them in ever so many slices or parts across or end-wise, you will always find in the middle the figure of the holy cross.”[789] That Royston, near the site of “Heaven’s Walls,” was identified with the Rood, Rhoda, or Rose Cross is evident from the ancient forms of the name Crux Roies (1220), Croyrois (1263), and Villa de Cruce Rosia (1298): legend connects the place with a certain Lady Roese, “about whom nothing is known,” and probability may thus associate this mysterious Lady with Fair Rosamond or the Rose of the World. In the Middle Ages, The Garden of the Rose was merely another term for Eden, Paradise, Peter’s Orchard, or Heaven’s Walls, and the Lady of the Rose Garden was unquestionably the same as the Ruler of the Isles called Fortunate—

Some accounts state that the bride of Oberon was known as Esclairmond, a name which seemingly is one with eclair monde or “Light of the World”.

We have seen that the surroundings of the Dane John at Canterbury are still known as Rodau’s Town: the coins of the Rhodian Greeks were sometimes rotae or wheel crosses in the form of a rose, and there is little doubt that our British rota coins were intended to represent various conceptions of the Rose Garden, or Avalon, or the Apple Orchard: using another simile the British poets preached the same Ideal under the guise of the Round Table.[790] Fig. 179, (ante, p. 339) represented a rose combined with four sprigs or sprouts, and in Fig. 423 (British) the intention of the rhoda is clearly indicated: on the carved column illustrated on page 708 the rood is a rhoda, and my suggestion in an earlier chapter that “Radipole road,” near London, may have marked the site of a rood pole is somewhat strengthened by the fact that Maypoles occasionally displayed St. George’s red rood or the banner of England, and a white pennon or streamer emblazoned with a red cross terminating like the blade of a sword. Occasionally the poles were painted yellow and black in spiral lines, the original intention no doubt being representative of Night and Day.

The same poet[791] deplores the gone-for-ever time when—

Overwise scholars have assumed that the Maypole was primarily and merely a phallic emblem; it was, however, more generally the simple symbol of justice and “the rod of peace”: rod, rood, and ruth are of course variants of one and the same root.

Among, if not the prime of the May Day dances was one known popularly as Sellingers Round: here probably the r is an interpolation, and the immortal Sellinga was in all likelihood sel inga or the innocent and happy Ange of Islington:—

At the famous “Angel” of Islington manorial courts were held seemingly from a time immemorial: on a shop-front now facing it the curious surname Uglow may be seen to-day, and in view of the adjacent Agastone Road it is reasonable to assume that at Hogsdon, now spelt Hoxton, stood once an Hexe or Hag stone, perhaps also that the hill by the Angel was originally known as the ug low or Ug hill. We have noted that fairy rings were occasionally termed hag tracks, and that the Angel district was once associated with these evidences of the fairies is seemingly implied by a correspondent who wrote to The Gentleman’s Magazine in 1792 as follows: “Having noticed a query relating to fairy rings having once been numerous in the meadow between Islington and Canonbury, and whether there were any at this time, and having never seen those extraordinary productions whether of Nature or of animals, curiosity led me on a late fine day to visit the above spot in search of them, but I was disappointed. There are none there now; the meadow above mentioned is intersected by paths on every side and trodden by man and beast.” Man and beast have since converted these intersections into mean streets among which, however, still stand Fairbank and Bookham Streets.

The Maypole was generally a sprout and was no doubt in this respect a proper representative of the “blossoming tree” referred to in a Gaelic Hymn in honour of St. Brighid—

The May Queen was invariably selected as the fairest and best dispositioned of the village maidens, and before being “set in an Arbour on a Holy Day” she was apparently carried on the shoulders of four men or “deacons”:[792] assuredly these parochial deacons were personages of local importance, and they may possibly account for the place-name Maydeacon House which occurs at Patrixbourne, Kent, in conjunction with Kingston, Heart’s Delight, Broome Park, and Barham. The word deacon is Good King or Divine King: we have seen that four kings figured frequently in the wheel of Fortune, and the ceremonious carrying by four deacons was not merely an idle village sport for it formed part of the ecclesiastical functions at the Vatican. An English traveller of some centuries ago speaking of the Pope and his attendant ceremonial, states that the representative of Peter was carried on the back of four deacons “after the maner of carrying whytepot queenes in Western May games”:[793] the “Whytepot Queen” was no doubt representative of Dame Jeanne, the demijohn or Virgin, and the counterpart to Janus or St. Peter.

One of what Camden would have dubbed the sour kind of critics inquired in 1577: “What adoe make our young men at the time of May? Do they not use night-watchings to rob and steal yong trees out of other men’s grounde, and bring them home into their parish with minstrels playing before? And when they have set it up they will deck it with floures and garlands and dance around, men and women together most unseemly and intolerable as I have proved before.” The scenes around the Maypole (“this stinckyng idoll rather”) were unquestionably sparkled by a generous provision of “ambrosia”:—

On that ever-memorable occasion at Stonehenge, when the Saxons massacred their unsuspecting hosts, a Bard relates that—

The word mead implies that this celestial honey-brew was esteemed to be the drink of the Maid; ale as we know was ceremoniously brewed within churches, and was thus probably once a holy beverage drunk on holy-days: the words beer and brew will account for representations of the senior Selenus, as at times inebriate. The Fairy Queen, occasionally the “Sorceress of the ebon Throne,” was esteemed to be the “Mother of wildly-working dreams”; Matthew Arnold happily describes the Celts as “drenched and intoxicated with fairy dew,” and it seems to have a general tenet that the fairy people in their festal glee were sometimes inebriated by ambrosia:—

In the neighbourhood of Fair Head, Antrim, there is a whirlpool known as Brecan’s Cauldron in connection with which one of St. Columba’s miracles is recorded. That the Pure King or Paragon was also deemed to be “that brewer” or the Brew King of the mystic cauldron, is evident from the magic recipe of Taliesin, which includes among its alloy of ingredients “to be mixed when there is a calm dew falling,” the liquor that bees have collected, and resin (amber?) and pleasant, precious silver, the ruddy gem and the grain from the ocean foam (the pearl or margaret?):—

We have noted the five acres allotted to each Bard, five springs at Avebury, five fields at Biddenden, “five wells” at Doddington, five banners at the magic fountain of Berenton, and five fruits growing on a holy tree: the mystic meaning attached to five rivers was in all probability that which is thus stated in Cormac’s Adventure in the Land of Promise: “The fountain which thou sawest with the five streams out of it is the fountain of Knowledge, and the streams are the five senses through which Knowledge is obtained. And no one will have Knowledge who drinketh not a draught out of the fountain itself and out of the streams.” That Queen Wisdom was the Lady of the Isles called Fortunate, is explicitly stated by the poet who tells us that there not Fantasy but Reason ruled: he adds:—

From the group of so-called Sun and Fire Symbols here reproduced, it will be seen that the svastika or “Fare ye well” cross assumed multifarious forms: in Thrace, the emblem was evidently known as the embria, for there are in existence coins of the town of Mesembria, whereon the legend Mesembria, meaning the (city of the) midday sun, is figured by the syllable Mes, followed by the svastika as the equivalent of Embria.[797]

The whirling bird-headed wheel on page 709 is a peculiarly interesting example of the British rood, or rota of ruth; as also is No. 40 of Fig. 201 (ante, p. 364) where the peacock is transformed into a svastika: the pear-shaped visage on the obverse of this coin may be connoted with the Scotch word pearie, meaning a pear-shaped spinning-top, and the seven ains or balls may be connoted with the statement of Maundeville, that he was shown seven springs which gushed out from a spot where once upon a time Jesus Christ had played with children.

No. 43 of the contemned sceattae (p. 364) evidently represents the legendary Bird of Fire, which, together with the peacock and the eagle, I have discussed elsewhere: this splendid and mysterious bird—as those familiar with Russian ballet are aware—came nightly to an apple-tree, but there is no reason to assume that the apple was its only or peculiar nourishment. The Mystic Boughs illustrated on page 627 (Figs. 379 to 384) may well have been the mistletoe or any other berried or fruit-bearing branch: in Fig. 397 (p. 635) the Maiden is holding what is seemingly a three-leaved lily, doubtless corresponding to the old English Judge’s bough or wand, now discontinued, and only faintly remembered by a trifling nosegay.[798]

Symbolists are aware that in Christian and Pagan art, birds pecking at either fruit or flowers denote the souls of the blessed feeding upon the joys of Paradise: all winged things typified the Angels or celestial Intelligences who were deemed to flash like birds through the air, and the reader will not fail to note the angelic birds sitting in Queen Mary’s tree (Fig. 425, p. 686).

There is a delicious story of a Little Bird in Irish folk-tale, and among the literature of the Trouveres or Troubadours, there is A Lay of the Little Bird which it is painful to curtail: it runs as follows: “Once upon a time, more than a hundred years ago, there lived a rich villein whose name I cannot now tell, who owned meadows and woods and waters, and all things which go to the making of a rich man. His manor was so fair and so delightsome that all the world did not contain its peer. My true story would seem to you but idle fable if I set its beauty before you, for verily I believe that never yet was built so strong a keep and so gracious a tower. A river flowed around this fair domain, and enclosed an orchard planted with all manner of fruitful trees. This sweet fief was builded by a certain knight, whose heir sold it to a villein; for thus pass baronies from hand to hand, and town and manor change their master, always falling from bad to worse. The orchard was fair beyond content. Herbs grew there of every fashion, more than I am able to name. But at least I can tell you that so sweet was the savour of roses and other flowers and simples, that sick persons, borne within that garden in a litter, walked forth sound and well for having passed the night in so lovely a place. Indeed, so smooth and level was the sward, so tall the trees, so various the fruit, that the cunning gardener must surely have been a magician, as appears by certain infallible proofs.

“Now in the middle of this great orchard sprang a fountain of clear, pure water. It boiled forth out of the ground, but was always colder than any marble. Tall trees stood about the well, and their leafy branches made a cool shadow there, even during the longest day of summer heat. Not a ray of the sun fell within that spot, though it were the month of May, so thick and close was the leafage. Of all these trees the fairest and the most pleasant was a pine. To this pine came a singing bird twice every day for ease of heart. Early in the morning he came, when monks chant their matins, and again in the evening, a little after vespers. He was smaller than a sparrow, but larger than a wren, and he sang so sweetly that neither lark, nor nightingale, nor blackbird, nay, nor siren even, was so grateful to the ear. He sang lays and ballads, and the newest refrain of the minstrel and the spinner at her wheel. Sweeter was his tune than harp or viol, and gayer than the country dance. No man had heard so marvellous a thing; for such was the virtue in his song that the saddest and the most dolent forgot to grieve whilst he listened to the tune, love flowered sweetly in his heart, and for a space he was rich and happy as any emperor or king, though but a burgess of the city, or a villein of the field. Yea, if that ditty had lasted 100 years, yet would he have stayed the century through to listen to so lovely a song, for it gave to every man whilst he hearkened, love, and riches, and his heart’s desire. But all the beauty of the pleasaunce drew its being from the song of the bird; for from his chant flowed love which gives its shadow to the tree, its healing to the simple, and its colour to the flower. Without that song the fountain would have ceased to spring, and the green garden become a little dry dust, for in its sweetness lay all their virtue. The villein, who was lord of this domain, walked every day within his garden to hearken to the bird. On a certain morning he came to the well to bathe his face in the cold spring, and the bird, hidden close within the pine branches, poured out his full heart in a delightful lay, from which rich profit might be drawn. ‘Listen,’ chanted the bird in his own tongue, ‘listen to my voice, oh, knight, and clerk, and layman, ye who concern yourselves with love, and suffer with its dolours: listen, also, ye maidens, fair and coy and gracious, who seek first the gifts and beauty of the world. I speak truth and do not lie. Closer should you cleave to God than to any earthly lover, right willingly should you seek His altar, more firmly should you hold to His commandment than to any mortal’s pleasure. So you serve God and Love in such fashion, no harm can come to any, for God and Love are one. God loves sense and chivalry; and Love holds them not in despite. God hates pride and false seeming; and Love loveth loyalty. God praiseth honour and courtesy; and fair Love disdaineth them not. God lendeth His ear to prayer; neither doth Love refuse it her heart. God granteth largesse to the generous, but the grudging man, and the envious, the felon and the wrathful, doth he abhor. But courtesy and honour, good sense and loyalty, are the leal vassals of Love, and so you hold truly to them, God and the beauty of the world shall be added to you besides. Thus told the bird in his song’.”[799]

It is not necessary to relate here the ill-treatment suffered by the bird which happily was full of guile, nor to describe its escape from the untoward fate destined for it by the villein.

In Figs. 428 to 430 are three remarkable British coins all of which seemingly represent a bird in song: it is not improbable that the idea underlying these mystic forms is the same as what the Magi termed the Honover or Word, which is thus described: “The instrument employed by the Almighty, in giving an origin to these opposite principles, as well as in every subsequent creative act, was His Word. This sacred and mysterious agent, which in the Zendavesta is frequently mentioned under the appellations Honover and I am, is compared to those celestial birds which constantly keep watch over, the welfare of nature. Its attributes are ineffable light, perfect activity, unerring prescience. Its existence preceded the formation of all things—it proceeds from the first eternal principal—it is the gift of God.”[800]

The symbol of Hanover[801] was the White Horse and we have considered the same connection at Hiniver in Sussex: it is also a widely accepted verity that the White Horse—East and West—was the emblem of pure Reason or Intelligence; the Persian word for good thought was humanah, which is seemingly our humane, and if we read Honover as ancient ver the term may be equated in idea with word or verbum. The Rev. Professor Skeat derives the words human and humane from humus the ground, whence the Latin homo, a man, literally, “a creature of earth,” but this is a definition which the pagan would have contemptuously set aside, for notwithstanding his perversity in bowing down to wood and stone he believed himself to be a creature of the sun and claimed: “my high descent from Jove Himself I boast”.

We have seen that Jove, Jupiter, or Jou was in all probability Father Joy, and have suggested that the Wandering Jew was a personification of the same idea: it has also been surmised that Elisha—one of the alternative names of the Wanderer—meant radically Holy Jou: it is not improbable that the Shah or Padishah of Persia was similarly the supposed incarnation of this phairy pÈre. The various well-authenticated apparitions of the Jew are quite possibly due to impersonations of the traditional figure, and two at least of these apparitions are mentioned as occurring in England: in one case the old man claiming to be the character wandered about ejaculating “Poor Joe alone”; in another “Poor John alone alone”.[802] Both “Joe” and “John” are supposed by Brand to be corruptions of “Jew”: the greater probability is that they were genuine British titles of the traditional Wanderer.

The exclamation of “alone alone” may be connoted with the so-called Allan apples which used to figure so prominently in Cornish festivities: these Allan apples doubtless bore some relation to the Celtic St. Allan: haleine means breath,[803] elan means fire or energy, and it is in further keeping with St. Allan that his name is translated as having meant cheerful.

The festival of the Allan apple was essentially a cheery proceeding: two strips of wood were joined crosswise by a nail in the centre; at each of the four ends was stuck a lighted candle with large and rosy apples hung between. This construction was fastened to a beam or the ceiling of the kitchen, then made to revolve rapidly, and the players whose object was to catch the Allan apples in their mouths frequently instead had a taste of the candles.[804] Obviously this whirling firewheel was an emblem of Heol the Celtic Sun wheel, and as Newlyn is particularly mentioned as a site of the festival, we may equate St. Newlyna of Newlyn with the Noualen of Brittany, and further with the Goddess Nehellenia or New Helen of London. Nehellenia has seemingly also been traced at Tadcaster in Yorkshire where the local name Helen’s Ford is supposed to be a corruption of the word Nehellenia:[805] Nelly, however, is no corruption but a variant of Ellen. The Goddess Nehallenia is usually sculptured with a hound by her side, and in her lap is a basket of fruits “symbolising the fecundating power of the earth”.[806] In old English line meant to fecundate or fertilise, and in Britain Allan may be considered as almost a generic term for rivers—the all fertilisers—for it occurs in the varying forms Allen, Alan, Alne, Ellen, Elan, Ilen, etc.: sometimes emphasis on the second syllable wears off the preliminary vowel, whence the river-names Len, Lyn, Leen, Lone, Lune, etc., are apparently traceable to the same cause as leads us to use lone as an alternative form of the word alone. The Extons Road, Jews Lane, and Paradise now found at King’s Lynn point to the probability that King’s Lynn (Domesday Lena, 1100 Lun, 1314 Lenne[807]) was once a London and an Exton. The great red letter day in Lynn used to be the festival of Candlemas, and on that occasion the Mayor and Corporation attended by twelve decrepit old men, and a band of music, formerly opened a so-called court of Piepowder: on reference to the Cornish St. Allen it is agreeable to find that this saint “was the founder of St. Allen’s Church in Powder”. This Powder, sometimes written Pydar, is not shown on modern maps, but it was the title for a district or Hundred in Cornwall which contains the village of Par: it would appear to be almost a rule that the place-name Peter should be closely associated with Allen, e.g., Peterhead in Scotland, near Ellon, and Petrockstowe or Padstowe in Cornwall is near Helland on the river Allan.

In the emblem herewith the alan or cheery old Pater is associated like Nehelennia with the fruits of the earth, amongst which one may perhaps recognise coddlins and other varieties of Allan apple.

The Cornish Allantide was celebrated on the night of Hallow’een, and as Sir George Birdwood rightly remarks the English Arbor Day—if it be ever resuscitated—should be fixed on the first of November or old “Apple Fruit Day,” now All Hallows[808] or All Saint’s Day, the Christian substitute for the Roman festival of Pomona; also of the first day of the Celtic Feast of Shaman or Shony the Lord of Death. Shaman may in all probability be equated with Joe alone, and Shony with poor John alone alone: Shony, as has been seen, was an Hebridean ocean-deity, and the omniscient Oannes or John of Sancaniathon, the Phoenician historian, lived half his time in ocean: the Eros or Amoretto here illustrated from Kanauj may be connoted with Minnussinchen or the little Sinjohn of Tartary.

With the apple orchard Pomona or of the Pierre, Pere, or Pater Alone, the monocle and monarch of the universe, may be connoted the far-famed paradise of Prester or Presbyter John: this mythical priest-king is rendered sometimes as Preste Cuan, sometimes as Un Khan or John King-Priest, and sometimes as Ken Khan: he was clearly a personification of the King of Kings, and his marvellous Kingdom, which streamed with honey and was overflowing with milk, was evidently none other than Paradise or the Land of Heaven. “MediÆval credulity” believed that this so-called “Asiatic phanton,” in whose country stood the Fountain of Youth and many other marvels, was attended by seven kings, twelve archbishops, and 365 counts: the seventy-two kings and their kingdoms said to be the tributaries of Prester John may be connoted with the seventy-two dodecans of the Egyptian and Assyrian Zodiac: these seventy-two dodecans I have already connoted with the seventy-two stones constituting the circle of Long Meg. Facing the throne of Prester John—all of whose subjects were virtuous and happy—stood a wondrous mirror in which he saw everything that passed in all his vast dominions. The mirror or monocle of Prester John is obviously the speculum of Thoth, Taut, or Doddy, and I suspect that the seventy-two dodecans of the Egyptian and Chaldean Zodiac were the seventy-two Daddy Kings of Un Khan’s Empire: none may take, nor touch, nor harm it—

The first written record of Preste Cuan figures in the chronicles of the Bishop of Freisingen (1145): the name Freisingen is radically singen: and it is quite probable that the Bungen Strasse at Hamelyn identified with the Pied Piper was actually the scene of a “Poor John, Alone, Alone,” incident such as Brand thus describes: “I remember to have seen one of these impostors some years ago in the North of England, who made a very hermit-like appearance and went up and down the streets of Newcastle with a long train of boys at his heels muttering, ‘Poor John alone, alone!’ I thought he pronounced his name in a manner singularly plaintive,”[810] we have seen that the Wandering Jew was first recorded at St. Albans: the ancient name for Newcastle-on-Tyne—where he seems to have made his last recorded appearance—was Pandon. With the panshen or pope of Tartary may be connoted the probability that the rosy Allan apple of Newlyn was a pippen: the parish of “Lynn or St. Margaret,” not only includes the wards of Paradise and Jews Lane, but we find there also an Albion Place, and the curious name Guanock; modern Kings Lynn draws its water supply from a neighbouring Gay wood.

In the year 1165 a mysterious letter circulated in Europe emanating, it was claimed, from the great Preste Cuan, and setting forth the wonders and magnificence of his Kingdom: this epistle was turned into verse, sung all over Europe by the trouveres, and its claims to universal dominion taken so seriously by Pope Alexander that this Pontiff or Pontifex[811] published in 1177 a counter-blast in which he maintained that the Christian professions of the mysterious Priest King were worse than worthless, unless he submitted to the spiritual claims of the See of Rome. There is little doubt that the popular Epistle of Prester John was the wily concoction of the Gnostic Trouveres or Merry Andrews, and that the unimaginative Pope who was so successfully stung into a reply, was no wise inferior in perception to the scholars of recent date who have located to their own satisfaction the mysterious Kingdom of Prester John in Tartary, in Asia Minor, or in Abyssinia: by the same peremptory and supercilious school of thought the Garden of Eden has been confidently placed in Mesopotamia, and the Irish paradise of Hy Breasil, “not unsuccessfully,” identified with Labrador.

The probability is that every community attributed the Kingdom of Un Khan to its own immediate locality, and that like the land of the Pied Piper it was popularly supposed to be joining the town and close at hand. In the fifteenth century a hard-headed French traveller who had evidently fallen into the hands of some whimsical mystic, recorded: “There was also at Pera a Neapolitan, called Peter of Naples, with whom I was acquainted. He said he was married in the country of Prester John, and made many efforts to induce me to go thither with him. I questioned him much respecting this country, and he told me many things which I shall here insert, but I know not whether what he said be the truth, and shall not therefore warrant any part of it.” Upon this honeymoon the archÆologist, Thomas Wright, comments: “The manner in which our traveller here announces the relation of the Neapolitan shows how little he believed it; and in this his usual good sense does not forsake him. This recital is, in fact, but a tissue of absurd fables and revolting marvels, undeserving to be quoted, although they may generally be found in authors of those times. They are, therefore, here omitted; most of them, however, will be found in the narrative of John de Maundeville.”[812]

We have seen that the Wandering Jew was alternatively termed Magus, a fact already connoted with the seventy-two stones of Long Meg, or Maggie: it was said that Un Khan was sprung from the ancient race of the Magi,[813] and I think that the solar circle at Shanagolden by Canons Island Abbey, on the Shannon in the country of the Ganganoi, was an abri of Ken Khan, Preste Cuan, or Un Khan.

The rath or dun of Shanid or Shenet, as illustrated ante, p. 55, has a pit in its centre which, says Mr. Westropp, “I can only suppose to have been the base of some timber structure”: whether this central structure was originally a well, a tower, or a pole, it no doubt stood as a symbol of either the Tower of Salvation, the Well of Life, or the Tree of Knowledge. There is little doubt that this solar wheel or wheel of Good Fortune—which as will be remembered was occasionally depicted with four deacons or divine kings, a variant of the seventy-two dodecans—was akin to what British Bardism alluded to as “the melodious quaternion of Peter,” or “the quadrangular delight of Peter, the great choir of the dominion”;[814] it was also akin to the design on the Trojan whorl which Burnouf has described as “the four epochs (quarters) of the month or year, and the holy sacrifice”.[815]

The English earthwork illustrated in Fig. 433 (A) is known by the name of Pixie’s Garden, and its form is doubtless that of one among many varieties of “the quadrangular delight of Peter”. A pixy is an elf or ouphe, and the Pixie’s Garden of Uffculme Down (Devon) may be connoted in idea with “Johanna’s Garden” at St. Levans: Johanna, as we have seen, was associated with St. Levan (the home of Maggie Figgie), and in the words of Miss Courtney: “Not far from the parish of St. Levan is a small piece of ground—Johanna’s Garden—which is fuller of weeds than of flowers”.[816] I suspect that Johanna, like Pope Joan of Engelheim and Janicula, was the fabulous consort of Prester John or Un Khan.

Fig. 433.—From Earthwork of England (A. Hadrian Allcroft).