Folk-lore of Shakespeare Part 35

"Clifton-upon-Dunsmore, in Warwicks.h.i.+re, Sold the Church Bible to buy a bear."

In Pulleyn's "Etymological Compendium,"[362] we are told that "this cruel amus.e.m.e.nt is of African origin, and was introduced into Europe by the Romans." It is further alluded to by Shakespeare in "Twelfth Night"

(i. 3), "dancing and bear-baiting;" and further on in the same play (ii.

5) Fabian says, "he brought me out o' favor with my lady about a bear-baiting here;" and Macbeth (v. 7) relates:

"They have tied me to a stake; I cannot fly, But, bear-like, I must fight the course."[363]

[362] Edited by M. A. Thorns, 1853, p. 170.

[363] For further information on this subject consult Strutt's "Sports and Pastimes," 1876; Kelly's "Notices of Leicester,"

pp. 152-159.

And in "Julius Caesar" (iv. 1), Octavius says:

"we are at the stake, And bay'd about with many enemies."

_Boar._ It appears that in former times boar-hunting was a favorite recreation; many allusions to which we find in old writers. Indeed, in the Middle Ages, the destruction of a wild boar ranked among the deeds of chivalry,[364] and "won for a warrior almost as much renown as the slaying an enemy in the open field." So dangerous, too, was boar-hunting considered, that Shakespeare represents Venus as dissuading Adonis from the perilous practice:

"'O be advised! thou know'st not what it is, With javelin's point a churlish swine to gore, Whose tushes never sheathed he whetteth still, Like to a mortal butcher, bent to kill.

His brawny sides, with hairy bristles arm'd, Are better proof than thy spear's point can enter; His short thick neck cannot be easily harm'd; Being ireful, on the lion he will venture.'"

[364] Chambers's "Book of Days," 1864, vol. ii. pp. 518, 519.

Such hunting expeditions were generally fatal to some of the dogs, and occasionally to one or more of the hunters. An old tradition of Grimsby, in Lincolns.h.i.+re,[365] a.s.serts that every burgess, at his admission to the freedom of the borough, anciently presented to the mayor a boar's head, or an equivalent in money, when the animal could not be procured.

The old seal of the mayor of Grimsby represents a boar hunt. The lord, too, of the adjacent manor of Bradley, was obliged by his tenure to keep a supply of these animals in his wood, for the entertainment of the mayor and burgesses.[366] A curious triennial custom called the "Rhyne Toll," is observed at Chetwode, a small village about five miles from Buckingham.[367] According to tradition, it originated in the destruction of an enormous wild boar-the terror of the surrounding county-by one of the lords of Chetwode; who, after fighting with it for four hours on a hot summer's day, eventually killed it:

"Then Sir Ryalas he drawed his broad sword with might, Wind well thy horn, good hunter; And he fairly cut the boar's head off quite, For he was a jovial hunter."

[365] Hampson's "vi Medii Kalendarium," vol. i. p. 96.

[366] See _Gentleman's Magazine_, vol. xcviii. pp. 401, 402.

[367] See "Book of Days," vol. ii. pp. 517-519.

As a reward, it is said, the king "granted to him and to his heirs forever, among other immunities and privileges, the full right to levy every year the Rhyne Toll." This is still kept up, and consists of a yearly tax on all cattle found within the manor of Chetwode between the 30th of October and the 7th of November, inclusive. In "Antony and Cleopatra" (iv. 13) Cleopatra alludes to the famous boar killed by Meleager,

"the boar of Thessaly Was never so emboss'd."[368]

[368] "Embossed" is a hunting term, properly applied to a deer when foaming at the mouth from fatigue, see p. 179; also Dyce's "Glossary to Shakespeare," p. 142; see Nares's "Glossary," vol.

i. p. 275.

_Bull._ Once upon a time there was scarcely a town or village of any magnitude which had not its bull-ring.[369] Indeed, it was not until the year 1835 that baiting was finally put down by an act of Parliament, "forbidding the keeping of any house, pit, or other place for baiting or fighting any bull, bear, dog, or other animal;" and, after an existence of at least seven centuries, this ceased to rank among the amus.e.m.e.nts of the English people.[370] This sport is alluded to in "Merry Wives of Windsor" (v. 5), "Remember, Jove, thou wast a bull for thy Europa." We may, too, compare the expressions in "Troilus and Cressida" (v. 7), "Now, bull, now, dog!... The bull has the game."[371]

[369] Wright's "Domestic Manners," p. 304; see Strutt's "Sports and Pastimes;" Smith's "Festivals, Games, and Amus.e.m.e.nts,"

1831, pp. 192-229.

[370] "Book of Days," vol. ii. p. 59.

[371] Cf. "2 Henry IV." ii. 2, "the town-bull."

_Cat._ Few animals, in times past, have been more esteemed than the cat, or been honored with a wider folk-lore. Indeed, among the Egyptians this favored animal was held sacred to Isis, or the moon, and wors.h.i.+pped with great ceremony. In the mythology of all the Indo-European nations the cat holds a prominent place; and its connection with witches is well known. "The picture of a witch," says Mr. Henderson,[372] "is incomplete without her cat, by rights a black one." In "Macbeth" (iv. 1) the first witch says:

"Thrice the brinded cat hath mew'd"-

it being a common superst.i.tion that the form most generally a.s.sumed by the familiar spirits of witches was the cat. Thus, in another pa.s.sage of the same play (i. 1), the first witch says: "I come, Graymalkin"-the word otherwise spelled Grimalkin,[373] meaning a gray cat. Numerous stories are on record of witches having disguised themselves as cats, in order to carry out their fiendish designs. A woodman out working in the forest has his dinner every day stolen by a cat. Exasperated at the continued repet.i.tion of the theft, he lies in wait for the aggressor, and succeeds in cutting off her paw, when lo! on his return home he finds his wife minus a hand.[374] An honest Yorks.h.i.+reman,[375] who bred pigs, often lost the young ones. On applying to a certain wise man of Stokesley, he was informed that they were bewitched by an old woman who lived near. The owner of the pigs, calling to mind that he had often seen a cat prowling about his yard, decided that this was the old woman in disguise. He watched for her, and, as soon as she made her appearance, flung at her a poker with all his might. The cat disappeared, and, curiously enough, the poor old woman in question that night fell and broke her leg. This was considered as conclusive that she was the witch that had simulated the form of a cat. This notion is very prevalent on the Continent. It is said that witch-cats have a great hankering after beer.[376] Witches are adepts in the art of brewing, and therefore fond of tasting what their neighbors brew. On these occasions they always masquerade as cats, and what they steal they consume on the spot. There was a countryman whose beer was all drunk up by night whenever he brewed, so that at last he resolved for once to sit up all night and watch. As he was standing by his brewing pan, a number of cats made their appearance, and calling to them, he said; "Come, puss, puss, come, warm you a bit." So in a ring they all sat round the fire as if to warm themselves. After a time, he asked them "if the water was hot."

"Just on the boil," said they; and as he spoke he dipped his long-handled pail in the wort, and soused the whole company with it.

They all vanished at once, but on the following day his wife had a terribly scalded face, and then he knew who it was that had always drunk his beer. This story is widely prevalent, and is current among the Flemish-speaking natives of Belgium. Again, a North German tradition[377] tells us of a peasant who had three beautiful large cats.

A neighbor begged to have one of them, and obtained it. To accustom it to the place, he shut it up in the loft. At night, the cat, popping its head through the window, said, "What shall I bring to-night?" "Thou shalt bring mice," answered the man. The cat then set to work, and cast all it caught on the floor. Next morning the place was so full of dead mice that it was hardly possible to open the door, and the man was employed the whole day in throwing them away by bushels. At night the cat again asked, "What shall I bring to-night?" "Thou shalt bring rye,"

answered the peasant. The cat was now busily employed in shooting down rye, so that in the morning the door could not be opened. The man then discovered that the cat was a witch, and carried it back to his neighbor. A similar tradition occurs in Scandinavian mythology.[378]

Spranger[379] relates that a laborer, on one occasion, was attacked by three young ladies in the form of cats, and that they were wounded by him. On the following day they were found bleeding in their beds. In Vernon,[380] about the year 1566, "the witches and warlocks gathered in great mult.i.tudes under the shape of cats. Four or five men were attacked in a lone place by a number of these beasts. The men stood their ground, and succeeded in slaying one cat and wounding many others. Next day a number of wounded women were found in the town, and they gave the judge an accurate account of all the circ.u.mstances connected with their wounding." It is only natural, then, that Shakespeare, in his description of the witches in "Macbeth," should have a.s.sociated them with the popular superst.i.tion which represents the cat as their agent-a notion that no doubt originated in the cla.s.sic story of Galanthis being turned into a cat, and becoming, through the compa.s.sion of Hecate, her priestess. From their supposed connection with witchcraft, cats were formerly often tormented by the ignorant vulgar. Thus it appears[381]

that, in days gone by, they (occasionally fict.i.tious ones) were hung up in baskets and shot at with arrows. In some counties, too, they were enclosed, with a quant.i.ty of soot, in wooden bottles suspended on a line, and he who could beat out the bottom of the bottle as he ran under it, and yet escape its contents, was the hero of the sport.[382]

Shakespeare alludes to this practice in "Much Ado About Nothing" (i. 1), where Bened.i.c.k says: "Hang me in a bottle like a cat, and shoot at me."

[372] "Folk-Lore of Northern Counties," p. 267; Brand's "Pop.

Antiq.," 1849, vol. iii. p. 7.

[373] Malkin is a diminutive of "Mary;" "Maukin," the same word, is still used in Scotland for a hare. "Notes to Macbeth,"

by Clark and Wright, 1877, p. 75.

[374] Sternberg's "Dialect and Folk-Lore of Northamptons.h.i.+re,"

1851, p. 148.

[375] Henderson's "Folk-Lore of Northern Counties" 1879, p. 206.

[376] Kelly's "Indo-European Folk-Lore," 1863, p. 238.

[377] Thorpe's "Northern Mythology," 1851, vol. iii. p. 32.

[378] Ibid., vol. ii. p. 32; vol. iii. pp. 26-236.

[379] See Baring-Gould's "Book of Werewolves," 1869, p. 65.

[380] Ibid., p. 66.

[381] Dyce's "Glossary to Shakespeare," p. 70.

[382] See Brand's "Pop. Antiq.," 1849, vol. iii. p. 39; also Wright's "Essays on the Superst.i.tions of the Middle Ages,"

1846.

Percy, in his "Reliques of Ancient English Poetry" (1794, vol. i. p.

155), says: "It is still a diversion in Scotland to hang up a cat in a small cask or firkin, half filled with soot; and then a parcel of clowns on horseback try to beat out the ends of it, in order to show their dexterity in escaping before the contents fall upon them."

This practice was once kept up at Kelso, in Scotland, according to Ebenezer Lazarus, who, in his "Description of Kelso" (1789, p. 144), has given a graphic description of the whole ceremony. He says, "This is a sport which was common in the last century at Kelso on the Tweed. A large concourse of men, women, and children a.s.sembled in a field about half a mile from the town, and a cat having been put into a barrel stuffed full of soot, was suspended on a crossbeam between two high poles. A certain number of the whipmen, or husbandmen, who took part in this savage and unmanly amus.e.m.e.nt, then kept striking, as they rode to and fro on horseback, the barrel in which the unfortunate animal was confined, until at last, under the heavy blows of their clubs and mallets, it broke, and allowed the cat to drop. The victim was then seized and tortured to death." He justly stigmatizes it, saying:

"The cat in the barrel exhibits such a farce, That he who can relish it is worse than an a.s.s."