Once a Week (magazine)/Series 1/Volume 5/Mother Shipton: her life and prophecies
MOTHER SHIPTON: HER LIFE AND PROPHECIES.
The Library of the British Museum contains two exceedingly attenuated quarto volumes of very considerable value, on account of their rarity, one of which is entitled “Mother Shipton’s Prophecies,” published in 1663; the other “The Life and Death of Mother Shipton,” published in 1687. As there are some very remarkable events recorded in this latter, touching the parentage and infancy of this renowned lady, I shall draw upon its contents, previous to referring to the prophecies, by the utterance of which she made herself a name, which endures to this day, in every town and hamlet throughout the length and breadth of the kingdom.
The full title and imprint of the book in question runs thus: “The Life and Death of Mother Shipton. Strangely preserved amongst other writings belonging to an old monastery in Yorkshire, and now published for the information of posterity. London: Printed for W. Harris, and are to be sold by him in Dunnings Alley, without Bishopsgate. 1687.”
The condition of the manuscript when found was not favourable to a fluent perusal, indeed it was almost illegible; but Mrs. R. Head seems to have had an intuitive consciousness that it contained something of importance, so she steeped some best galls in good white wine, distilled the solution, and then, as she says, wetted the ink of the illegible M.S. handsomely, and made the letters as fresh and fair as if they had been newly written. All this, and a good deal more, is set forth in the preface, which the authoress concludes by saying that she might have made it much longer, but was afraid lest—like the citizens of Mindium—she might make her gates too big for her city.
From this MS. then, it appears, that Mrs. Agatha Shipton resided at Knaresborough, near the dropping-well. How she managed to live is somewhat of a mystery, seeing that she was miserably poor, and would neither beg nor work. One day she was sitting alone under a tree when a handsome young gentleman accosted her, and was so smitten with the charms of her person and conversation that he offered marriage on the spot. That she accepted him is not a matter for surprise, and it was arranged that they should meet at the same place on the succeeding day, when he would take her to the halls of his ancestors, where the ceremony could be performed in due state. All this was duly carried out as proposed, but the result was not altogether so favourable to her future welfare as she might reasonably have expected it would be. In the first place, she found herself on the ensuing morning under the same identical tree, clothed in rags in lieu of the rich and gorgeous array she had worn on the preceding evening, and in the next, she had not the least idea in which direction to go in search of her husband. While she was bemoaning her hapless fate the same young gentleman appeared, but the revelation he made to her respecting his position was very far from being of a gratifying nature, and the chief advantage that she derived from her connection with him was power of a very extraordinary character certainly, but not satisfactory in a pecuniary point of view. It was reported of her subsequently that she had been seen when walking alone to stamp on the ground, make motions with her hands, repeat a word three times, whereupon the sky which had previously been clear became dark and gloomy, and “belcht out nothing, for half-an-hour, but flames,—thundering after a most hideous manner.” From this it was inferred that she was a witch, and she was therefore seized and taken before a justice, but she defied that functionary, and exclaiming, “Updraxi, call Styicon Helluox,—a fiery-winged dragon forthwith appeared, took her up, and carried her away from the amazed justice and his attendants,” who are said never to have meddled with her afterwards.
Several instances are mentioned of the terrible things she did to neighbours when by their prying into her affairs they sent her off on the “rampage,” but I shall refrain from mentioning them for two reasons. I doubt whether they are strictly true, and they lack the refinement which distinguishes all the actions of the sex to which she belonged. Let it suffice to say that she died on the same day that she introduced the amiable infant into the world, whose personal appearance is thus described by her admiring biographer, who, certes, cannot be said to have dipped her brush in the colours of flattery. “Her physiognomy was so misshapen that it is altogether impossible to express it fully in words, or for the most ingenious to limn her in colours, though many persons of eminent qualifications in that art have often attempted it, but without success; therefore, according to the best observations of her, take this true, though not full account of her features and body; she was of an indifferent height, but very morose and big-boned, her hair very long, with very great goggling, but sharp and fiery eyes: her nose of an incredible and unproportionate length, having in it many crooks and turnings, adorned with many strange pimples of divers colours, as red, blew, and mixt, which, like vapours of brimstone, gave such a lustre to her affrighted spectators in the dead time of the night, that one of them confessed several times in my hearing that her nurse needed no other light to assist her in the performance of her duty. Her cheeks were of a black swarthy complexion, much like a mixture of the black and yellow jaundies,—wrinkled, shrivelled, and very hollow, insomuch that as the ribs of her body, so the impression of her teeth were easily to be discerned, excepting only two of them which stood quite out of her mouth in imitation of the tusks of a wild boar, or the tooth of an elephant, a thing so strange in an infant that no age can parallel. Her chin was of the same complexion as her face, turning up towards her mouth, as if there had been a more than ordinary correspondence between her teeth and it. Her neck so strangely distorted that her right shoulder was forced to be a supporter to her head, it being propt up by the help of her chin, in such sort, that the right side of her body stood much lower than the left; like the reeling of a ship that sails with a side winde. Again, her left side was turned quite the contrary way, as if her body had been screwed together piece after piece, and not rightly placed, . . . . . Her leggs very crooked and misshapen, the toes of her feet turning towards her left side; so that it was very hard for any person to guess which road she intended to stear her course; because she never could look that way she resolved to go.”
This was in her youthful days; she grew more ugly as she grew older, so it is asserted, but this is rather difficult to believe.
Being without a mother, and the exact position of her father’s domicile not being ascertainable, the parish authorities were obliged to take upon themselves the expense of her maintenance; they accordingly handed her over to a nurse, and a very hard time of it the nurse had with her. All the spirits of the neighbourhood seem to have assembled in the nurse’s cottage to amuse the weird infant; and it is singular to find in a book nearly two hundred years old a description of their tricks, so closely resembling the highly intellectual performances at a spiritual conference in the modern drawing-room. Among other things, they are said to have set the heavy furniture walking up and down the stairs, which gave the chairs and stools a clearer space for amusing themselves below in playing at “Bowles with the Trenchers and Dishes.” At last they became so uproarious in their indulgence of these innocent pursuits, that the nurse got tired of it, and Mother Shipton, as she was already called, having become a big girl, the parish, at her request, relieved her of her charge, and took it upon themselves; putting her to school “that she might receive the education commonly given to the children of paupers, namely, reading, writing, and sewing.” (This was written, be it remembered, nearly two hundred years ago.) For some reason or other, she was not popular among her fellow-students. They ridiculed her personal appearance, and she retaliated by causing all the Robin Goodfellows, Ariels, and Pucks of her acquaintance to pinch and otherwise annoy and injure them to such an extent, that she was at last expelled from the school, and thrown upon the wide world, with nothing but her own resources to rely upon. Feeling that she “had a mission,” she followed the promptings of her internal consciousness, and established herself in the neighbourhood as the real original medium. Persons began now to visit her, to consult her on future events, and as she always gave them the information couched in sufficiently ambiguous language, and invariably refused to take any fee for her trouble, they were loud in their praises of her knowledge and disinterestedness. It is true that she kept a girl as servant, who was always willing to accept anything visitors chose to give, and who took care to remind them of their duties in this respect, if necessary, by telling them that she and her dame could not live on thanks; quoting the aphorism which has come down to our time, that “it is money makes the mare to go.”
Gradually, however, her fame travelled beyond this narrow circle, and people came to her from distant parts, just as in more ancient times they visited the pythoness of Delphi.
Her biographer concludes her performance as follows, and I would recommend the prophecy to the particular attention of those who are skilful in the interpretation of such things, as offering a wide field for the exercise of their peculiar talent:—
“Great noise there shall be heard, great shouts and cries
And seas shall thunder louder than the skies;
Then shall three lyons fight with three, and bring
Joy to a people, honour to their king.
“This Mother Shipton lived till she was of an extraordinary age, and though she was generally believed to be a witch, yet all persons whatever, that either saw or heard of her, had her in esteem, and her memory is to this day much honoured by those of her own country.
“A stone was erected near Clifton, about a mile from the city of York, from which the following is taken:—
Here lyes she who never ly’d,
Whose skill often has been try’d.
Her prophecies shall still survive,
And ever keep her name alive.
The title-page of the other volume containing her prophecies is faced by a woodcut, which represents Henry VIII. seated on his throne, his feet resting on the back of Pope Clement, who is prostrate in the dust, his broken tiara lying on the ground near him, to the great grief of a whole army of monks on the king’s left hand, among whom is Cardinal Pole. This latter dignitary is assisting the Pope to rise, and on the other side Bishop Fisher is tendering his hand to support his head. On the king’s right hand stands Cranmer, who is presenting him with the Bible, and behind him Cromwell. The imprint runs thus: “Printed by T. P., for Fr. Coles, and are to be sold at his shop, at the signe of the Lambe, in the Old Bailey, neare the Sessions house, 1663.”
In this collection of her prophecies, those to which most prominence are given, are those having reference to Cardinal Wolsey, the fate of the messengers sent to her by the king, and the treatment of religious institutions by this monarch.
“When she heard that King Henry the Eighth should be king, and Cardinall Wolsey should be at Yorke, she said that Cardinall Wolsey should never come to Yorke, which the King and the Cardinall hearing, being angry, sent the Duke of Suffolk and the L. Darcy to her, who came with their men disguised to the King’s house, near Yorke; where leaving their men, they went to Mr. Besley in Yorke, and desired him to goe with them to Mother Shipton’s house, where when they came they knocked at the doore, she said, Come in, Mr. Besley, and those honourable lords with you, and Mr. Besley would have put in the Lords before him; but shee said, Come in, Mr. Besley, you know the way, but they doe not. This they thought strange that shee should know them and never saw them; then they went into the house, where there was a great fire, and they dranke and were very merry. Mother Shipton, said the Duke, if you knew what we came about you would not bid us so welcome; shee said the messenger should not be hanged: Mother Shipton, said the Duke, you said the Cardinall should never see Yorke; Yea, said shee, I said he might see Yorke, yet never come at it. But, said the Duke, when he comes to Yorke thou shalt be burned: Wee shall see that, said shee, and plucking her handkercher off her head, she threw it into the fire, and it would not burne; then she tooke her staff and turned it into the fire, and it would not burne; then she tooke and put it on againe. Then said the Duke, What nieane you by this? She replyed, lf this had burned I might have burned. Mother Shipton, quoth the Duke, What thinke you of me? My Lord, said she, the time will come when you will be as low as I am, and that is a low one indeed. (The Duke was afterward beheaded.)
“My Lord Piercy said, And what say you of me? My Lord, said shee, shooe your horse in the quick and you shall doe well, but your bodie will be buried in Yorke pavement, and your head shall be stolne from the Barre and carried into France. At which they all laughed, saying, that would be a great lop between the head and the body. (This proved true, for hee rose in rebellion in the north, and by not flying when hee might, hee was taken and beheaded in Yorke, where his body was buried, and his head was stolne away and carried into France, tempore Eliz. Reg.)
“Then said the Lord Darcy, And what thinke you of me? She said, You have made a great gunne, shoot it off, for it will never doe you any good; you are going to warre, you will paine many a man but will kill none. So they went away.
“Not long after the Cardinall came to Cawood, and going to the top of the tower, he asked, where stands Yorke and how far it was thither; and said that one said he should never see Yorke; Nay, said one, shee said you might see Yorke, but never come at it. He vowed to burne her when he came to Yorke. Then they shewed him York, and told him it was but eight miles thence, he said that he would soon be there; but being sent for by the king, he dyed in his way to London at Leicester of a Laske. And Shipton’s wife said to Mr. Besley, yonder is a fine stall built for the Cardinall in the Minster of gold, pearle, and precious stones; gee and present one of the pillers to King Henry, and he did so.”
It would seem that some of the versions of this prophecy previously printed could not be reconciled with the facts as they occurred, so the author places a note in the margin, “Note that this prophecie was never exactly printed before.”
Furthermore, she prophesied that the day would come when the north should rue it wondrous sore, and the south should rue it evermore; when hares should kindle on the cold hearthstone, and lads should marry ladies and bring them home. This the editor supposes to refer to the suppression of religious houses, and says that the natural phenomenon referred to did actually occur at Lord Will. Howard’s house at Naworth. I do not know what truth there may be in this last statement, but a similar prophecy is attributed to Thomas the Rhymer with respect to his residence, and also to Waldhave. The truth however seems to be that the idea was borrowed from an old MS. in the Harleian collection, where it is used to indicate utter desolation, and not applied to any particular locality.
Among others who visited her was the Abbot of Beverley, who desired to discover what would be the result to him of the disputes raging between Henry VIII. and his order. He came disguised, but he had no chance of maintaining it against a prophetess who could see her customers through a door. No sooner had he knocked than she called out, “Come in, Mr. Abbot, for you are not so much disguised but the fox may be seen through the sheep’s skin; it is not those clothes makes a lay person, no more than a long gown makes a man a lawyer; come, take a stool and sit down, for you shall not goe away unsatisfied of what you desire.” The prophecy, however, with which she favoured him had less reference to his own particular case than to that of his order and Cardinal Wolsey; still it is said to have been sufficient to send him away in great admiration of her powers, though it is stated that at the time he was utterly unable to understand what she meant.
The coming of King James she foretold, and also that when he was in London his “tayle should be at Edinborough,” which, as every reader of history knows, was the case, and that it extended a good way beyond that city. “And when there is a Lord Maior at Yorke let him beware of a stab;” a caution not uttered without a reason, for we are told a Lord Mayor whose house was in the Minster at York was killed with three stabs. Apparently there are bad days in store for the citizens of London for at another time she said, “The time will come when England shall tremble and quake for feare of a dead man that shal be heard to speak; Then will the Dragon give the Bull a great snap, and when the one is down they will go to London town: Then there will be a great battell between England and Scotland, and they will be pacified for a time; and when they come to Brammamore they fight, and are againe pacified for a time; then there will be a great battell between England and Scotland at Scotmore: Then will a raven sit on the cross, and drinke as much blood of nobles as of the comons; then woe is me, for London shal be destroyed for ever after.” Here the editor puts a note in the margin running thus. It is to be noted and admired that this cross in Shipton’s dayes was a tall stone cross, which ever since hath been by degrees sinking into the ground, and now is sunke so low that a raven may sit upon the top of it, and reach with her bill to the ground.
One more extract, which as the events predicted have not yet come to pass, possibly remain to be fulfilled, and I close my notice of a book which, without the cover, would probably fetch, at a sale at Sotheby & Wilkinson’s, or Puttick & Simpson’s, twenty times its weight in gold. “There will come a woman with one eye and she shall tread in many men’s bloud to the knee; and a man leaning on a staffe by her, she shall say to him, What art thou? and he shall say, I am the King of Scots and she shall say, Goe with me to my house, for there are three knights, and he will goe with her, and stay there three dayes and three nights; then will England be lost, and they will cry twice a day, England is lost. Then there will be three knights in Petergate in Yorke, and the one shall not know of the other. There shall be a child born in Pomfret with three thumbs, and those three knights will give him three horses to holde while they winne England, and all noble blood shall be gone but one; and they shall carry him to Sheriff Hatton’s castle, six miles from York, and he shall dye ther, and they shall chuse ther an Earl in the field, and hanging their horses on a thorne, will rue the time that ever they were borne to see so much bloodshed. Then they will come to York to besiege it, and they shall keep them out three dayes and three nights, and a penny loafe shall be within the bar at half-a-crown, and without the bar at a penny; and they will swear if they will not yield to blow up the Town walls. Then they will let them in, and they will hang up the maior, sheriffs, and aldermen, and they will goe into Crouch church, there will three knights goe in, and but one come out againe, and hee will cause proclamation to be made, that any may take house, bower, or tower, for twelve yeares, and while the world endureth ther shall never be warfare againe, nor any more king or queenes; but the kingdom shall be governed by three Lords, and then Yorke shall be London. And after this shall a white harvest of corne be gotten in by women. Then shall he in the north that one woman shall say unto another: Mother, I have seene a man to-day, and for one man there shall be a thousand women. A ship shall come sayling up the Thames till it come against London, and the mr. of the ship shall weepe, and the mariners of the ship shall aske him why he weepeth, being he hath made so good a voyage, and he shall say: Ah what a goodly city this was, none in the world comparable to it, and noW there is left scarce any house that can let us have drinke for our money.” It is of course clear that this master mariner must be Lord Macaulay’s New Zealander.