Wikisource

Gesta Romanorum Vol. I (1871)/Introduction (a)

< Gesta Romanorum Vol. I (1871)
←
Gesta Romanorum Vol. I (1871)
Anonymous, translated by Charles Swan
Introduction, Section I
→
Anonymous2278313Gesta Romanorum Vol. I — Introduction, Section I1871Charles Swan

​


INTRODUCTION.



SECTION I.


The History of Romantic Fabling is enveloped in much perplexity; nor is it diminished by the various conjectures which have been started and upheld. The labours of ingenuity are not always convincing; and perhaps the very fact of their plausibility leads us to mistrust. Discussion upon remote history is ever attended with difficulty; and arguments that rest upon the basis of refined deduction that are artfully designed to pull down one system while they support another equally imaginative, may have a well-founded ​claim to admiration, but not upon the score of truth. It is singular how the mind loves to grasp at mystery, and to disport itself in the chaos of departed time. It springs undauntedly forward, unappalled by the numberless shadows which flit in "dim perspective" before it, and undeterred by the intricacies of the way. It would seem like a captive escaped from confinement, wantoning in the excess of unaccustomed liberty. And the more boundless the subject, the less timid we find the adventurer; the more perilous the journey, the less wary are his movements. Boldness appears to constitute success; as if, because the faint heart never attained the fair lady, modest pretensions, and unassuming merit, never secured the lady truth. It is a libel upon the head and the heart; and cannot be too speedily abandoned.

Of the theories already advanced, none, it ​seems to me, is perfect; and none, without some portion of accuracy. They each go part of the way, but stop before they touch the mark. Bishop Percy, after Mallet, attributes the invention of romance to the ancient Scalds or Bards of the North. They believed the existence of giants and dwarfs; they entertained opinions not unlike the more modern notion of fairies; they were strongly possessed with the belief of spells and enchantments, and were fond of inventing combats with dragons and monsters[1]." Now this is unequivocally nothing less than the entire machinery employed in all the Arabian Tales, and in every other oriental fiction. Such a coincidence no one will suppose the result of accident; nor can it for a moment be believed, that the warm imaginations of the East—where ​Nature brightens the fancy equally with the flowers—borrowed it from the colder conceptions of the Northern bards. Many parts of the Old Testament, demonstrate familiarity with spells; and Solomon (which proves a traditional intercourse, at least between the Jews and other people of the East) by universal consent, has been enthroned sovereign of the Genii, and lord of the powerful Talisman. In David and Goliah, we trace the contests of knights with giants: in the adventures of Sampson, perhaps, the miraculous feats attributed to the heroes of chivalry. In the apocryphal book of Tobit, we have an angel in the room of a Saint, enchantments, antidotes, distressed damsels, demons, and most of the other machinery of the occidental romance[2]. Parts of the Pentateuch; of Kings, ​&c. &c. appear to have been amplified, and rendered wild and fabulous; and were the comparison carried minutely forward, I am persuaded that the analogy would be found as striking as distinct. I mean not that this has always been the immediate source: I am rather inclined to suppose, that certain ramifications, direct from the East, already dilated and improved, were more generally the origin. But Scripture, in many cases, furnished a supernatual agency without pursuing this circuitous route; as well as heroes with all the attributes of ancient romance. In the old French prose of Sir Otuel, Chap. XXIV. we have the following exclamations on the death of the knight Roland, which partly confirm my observation. "Comparé à Judas Machabeus par ta valeur et prouesse; ressemblant à Sanson, et pareil à Jonatas fils de Saul par la fortune de sa triste morte!" The Jewish ​Talmud, and especially the commentary upon it, abound with fables, composed in some respects of the materials worked up by the Scalds, but long anterior in date to their compositions, so far as they are known.

Dr. Percy contends, that "old writers of chivalry appear utterly unacquainted with whatever relates to the Mahometan nations, and represent them as worshipping idols, or adoring a golden image of Mahomet[3]." This, I should conceive, would naturally be the case. It was the aim of Christian writers to represent the infidels in the worst light possible. They thought them the most wretched beings in creation; and they might, therefore, artfully pervert their creed, and exaggerate their vices. Most frequently, such would be the genuine result of their abhorrence:—just ​as popular superstition pictures the "foul fiend," with horns, and cloven feet, and a hideously distorted countenance not because it is really accredited, but because nothing is thought too vile or too fearful for the Evil One. The hostility which the crusades excited and nourished; nay, the very difference of religious feeling, would necessarily call out the whole virulence of an age, not remarkable for its forbearance; and it is absurd to suppose that the intercourse so long maintained between the two continents (both previous to these expeditions, and subsequent), should not have given them a sufficient acquaintance with the Saracen belief, and mode of worship. If the great Saladin required and received knight-hood from the hands of the Christians[4], it argued a degree of intimacy ​with European customs on the one side, which it would be unfair and arbitrary to deny the other.

That the Scalds added some circumstances to the original matter, and rejected others, is extremely probable. The traditions which conveyed the fable, would, of course, be corrupted; not only from the mode of conveying it, but from the dissimilarity of customs and ideas among those by whom it was received. All I contend for, is the original ground, upon which they, and other nations have built; and this, I think I shall be able to demonstrate, purely oriental. But it is objected, that if the northern bards had derived their systems from the East, they would have naturalized them as the Romans did the stories of Greece. It is thought that they must have adopted into their religious rites the same mythology, and have evinced as strong a ​similitude, as the nations of classical celebrity. There is, in truth, no basis for such an assertion to stand upon. The long intercourse between these nations, their vicinity to each other, and more than all, the original similarity of their worship, prepared the Romans to receive the devotional system of a conquered country, without hesitation. They understood, and valued Grecian literature, and consequently found an additional motive for the reception of Grecian theology. It accorded with preconceived notions; it was, in fact, a part of their own. Besides, the Romans were rising in civilization, and caught at every shadow of improvement. The people of the North were totally the reverse. They were the children of Nature—of Nature yet unbetrothed to Art. They were not, therefore, prepared by any thing analogous to produce a similar effect: and could but seize the most ​prominent features that were presented to them, upon which to engraft their own wild and terrible stories.

Warton has written a long dissertation to prove that the Arabians, who had been for some time seated on the northern coasts of Africa, and who entered Spain about the beginning of the eighth century, "disseminated those extravagant inventions which were so peculiar to their romantic and creative genius[5]." This hypothesis Bishop Percy has endeavoured to refute; and, according to Mr. Ellis[6], he has entirely succeeded. The argument advanced on this occasion is, that were it true, "the first French romances of chivalry would have been on Moorish, or at least Spanish subjects, whereas the most ancient stories of this kind, whether in prose or verse, whether in Italian, French, ​English, &c. are chiefly on the subjects of Charlemagne and the Paladins, or of our British Arthur, and his Knights of the Round Table, &c. being evidently borrowed from the fabulous chronicles of the supposed Archbishop Turpin, and of Jeffery of Monmouth[7]." Something in this there may be; but it is still clear, that intercourse, of whatever kind, existing between two nations, must, to a certain degree, supply information relative to their peculiar habits and belief. That each side would hold communication with their captives, either from political motives, or otherwise, is consistent with the experience of all ages; and, surely, not every individual would be so fastidious as to repel a closer intimacy. Courtesy, humanity, intrigue, &c. would, in some few at least, open a door to an ​unfettered interchange of thought; while gratitude for certain benefits might operate on others. In the course of a multifarious warfare, such things must occur; the line of separation must occasionally be removed, and youthful hearts and minds, must, now and then, however sundered by human prejudices, break down the strongest barrier that interposes between them. If this be granted, when the history of such times and such circumstances was forgotten, the literature which they had helped to disseminate, would remain. The legendary tale of the sire descends unmutilated to the son; and the fact is on record, though the occasion be obliterated. The fabulous chronicle of Turpin might then be drawn up; having its superstructure on French manners, but its basis on oriental learning. Much time must inevitably elapse before new systems can take root; and when they do, it ​is imperceptibly and silently. Hence, may the hostile incursions of the Saracens have introduced some portion of Eastern fiction: but not all; for it is the common tendency of a conquered country to engraft its own character and customs upon those of the stronger power.

It has been observed by Ritson (whose virulent and ungentlemanly abuse of his opponents is disgusting in the extreme!) that neither the Spaniards, nor any other nations of Europe, had an opportunity of adopting literary information "from a people with whom they had no connection but as enemies, whose language they never understood, and whose manners they detested: nor would even have condescended or permitted themselves, to make such an adoption from a set of infidel barbarians who had invaded, ravaged, and possessed themselves of some of the best and ​richest provinces of Spain[8]." Much of this is in substance what has been contended against above; and that a very short period of servitude will not open the sources of a more friendly communication—in appearance at least—between nations under such circumstances, is contrary to historical fact, and to human nature. The enslaved must look up to the enslaver—for protection for support; and the latter in return would enforce, under the penalty of extermination, the aid which was considered requisite. Thus, however involuntary and hateful, intercourse must be under all situations. But here, the fact is, as Mr. Warton remarks, (though Ritson pleases to overlook it) that after the irruption of the Saracens, the Spaniards neglected even the study of the Sacred Writings, for the express ​purpose of acquiring the Arabic. This curious passage is cited by Du Cange, whose words I shall quote at length.

"Quòd vero suprà laudatus Scriptor anonymus de Galliæ nostræ in Lingua Latina barbarie ante Caroli M. tempora, idem de Hispania post Saracenorum irruptionem testatur Alvarus: ubi neglectis et posthabitis Scripturis Sanctis, earumque sacris interpretibus, quotquot supererant Christiani, Arabum Chaldæorumque libris evolvendis incumbebant, gentilitia eruditione præclari, Arabico eloquio sublimati, Ecclesiasticam pulchritudinem ignorantes, et Ecclesiæ flumina de Paradiso manantia, quasi vilissima contemnentes, legem suam nesciebant, et linguam propriam non advertebant Latini, ita ut ex omni Christi Collegio vix inveniretur unus in milleno hominum genere, qui salutatorias fratri posset rationaliter dirigere literas, cum reperirentur absque ​numero multiplices turbæ, qui erudite Chaldaicas verborum explicarent pompas. Quod quidem abunde firmatj quæ de Elepanto Toletano suprà diximus. Sed et inde satis arguimus unde tot voces Arabicæ in Hispanam, subinde sese intolerant[9]."

We have then a complete refutation of Ritson's strongest objection; and perhaps had not the spleen of the writer been more powerful than the good sense and feeling of the man, he never would have hazarded the remark. And if judicial astrology, medicine, and chemistry, were of Arabian origin, and introduced into Europe a century at least before the crusades; if Pope Gerbert, or Sylvester II. who died A.D. 1003, brought the Arabic numerals into France, it is surely reasonable to suppose that these sciences, so ​intimately connected with magical operations (and with fictions diverging from them) as to confer upon the possessor a title to supernatural agency, would extend their influence to the legendary stories, as well as to the manners of the west, which these very stories are admitted to describe! Yet, after all, it is not to be imagined that the introduction of eastern invention happened at one time, or in one age; it was rather the growth of many times, and of many ages—continually, though gradually augmenting, till it attained maturity.

The next hypothesis gives Armorica, or Bretany, as the source of romantic fiction. But to this, the same objections arise that have been started with respect to the rest. Mr. Ellis, in the introduction to his "Specimens of Early English Romances," plausibly suggests that all are compatible. He ​imagines "that the scenes and characters of our romantic histories were very generally, though not exclusively, derived from the Bretons, or from the Welsh of this island; that much of the colouring, and perhaps some particular adventures, may be of Scandinavian origin, and that occasional episodes, together with part of the machinery, may have been borrowed from the Arabians[10]." Which is as much as to say, that each nation contributed something, and very likely they did; but which furnished the greater part, or which originated the whole, is just as obscure as before a "reconciliation" of opinions was projected. This conciliatory system will remind the reader of Boccacio's tale of The Three Rings, "the question of which is yet remaining."

Another supposition attributes the chief source of romantic fiction to classical and ​mythological authors; that is, to the stories of Greece and Rome, somewhat altered by modern usages. To this belief Mr. Southey[11] and Mr. Dunlop seem to incline. The latter adds, that "after all, a great proportion of the wonders of romance must be attributed to the imagination of the authors." But when these wonders, similarly constructed, pervade the most remote countries, there must be something more than an author's imagination brought into the account. Consideration, however, is due to the idea of a classical origin; and this, blended with the rest, may help to make up a perfect system. Before I proceed to the attempt, I would advert to certain observations which Mr. Dunlop has promulgated in his "History of Fiction." He says, "It cannot be denied, and indeed has been acknowledged by Mr. Warton, that ​the fictions of the Arabians and Scalds are totally different[12]." Much misunderstanding would doubtless be avoided by accurate references: and if Mr. Dunlop be correct in what he asserts, it would be a pleasant thing to know the edition and page to which he alludes. In contradiction to the insinuation here thrown out, Warton says, "But as the resemblance which the pagan Scandinavians bore to the eastern nations in manners, monuments, opinions, and practices, is so very perceptible and apparent, an inference arises, that their migration from the east, must have happened at a period by many ages more recent, and therefore, most probably about the time specified by historians[13]." And again, "These practices and opinions co-operated with kindred superstitions of dragons, dwarfs, fairies, giants, and enchanters, which the ​traditions of the gothic Scalders had already planted; and produced that extraordinary species of composition which has been called Romance[14]." In another place, indeed, he admits that there were "but few" of these monsters in the poetry of the most ancient Scalds; but that few is quite sufficient for the argument.

So that, one would think, Warton supplies no testimony in support of a doctrine, which I cannot help fancying may be proved altogether groundless. "Allowing the early Scaldic odes to be genuine," says Mr. Dunlop, " we find in them no dragons, giants, magic rings, or enchanted castles. These are only to be met with in the compositions of the bards who flourished after the native vein of Runic fabling had been enriched by the tales of the Arabians[15]." This is an extremely ​cautious method of writing; for while we contend that the easterns furnished the ground-work, and fix the date, Mr. Dunlop may tell us, be it when it may, that it was subsequent to the period in which the Runic fable nourished in its native purity. Let us examine, however, how far his bold assertion may be maintained, respecting the poetical machinery adopted by the ancient Scalds. Let us revert to the Edda[16], a monument "tout-à-fait unique en son espece," as Monsieur Mallet assures us[17], and try whether there be not, in fact, almost the whole of what he has rejected.

​Gylfe was king of Sweden, and a celebrated magician. When a colony of Asiatics arrived in his country (a tradition which adds strength to my hypothesis) he assumed the form of an old man, and journeyed to the city of Asgard. "Sed Asæ erant perspicaciores, (imo ut) præviderent iter ejus, eumque fascinatione oculorum exciperent. Tunc cernebat ille altum palatium: Tecta ejus erant tecta aureis clypeis, ut tectum novum. Ita loquitur Diodolfius: 'Tectum ex auro micante, Parietes ex lapide, Fundamina aulæ ex montibus fecere Asæ sagaciores[18].'"

Here, beyond dispute, is an enchanted castle. And not only so, but the common oriental ​practice of putting a number of questions as the test of a person's wisdom, occurs in this very fable. "Qui est le plus ancien ou le premier des Dieux?" is first asked, and other interrogatories follow, of a similar character. Then for the Giants—in the Runic mythology nothing is more common. Speaking of the formation of man, the Edda observes, (I follow the French translation of M. Mallet.) "Cet homme fut appellé Yme; les Géans le nomment Oergelmer, et c'est de lui que toutes leurs familles descendent, comme cela est dit dans la Voluspa. 'Toutes les Prophétesses viennent de Vittolfe; les sages de Vilmôde, les Geans de Yme,' et dans un autre endroit: 'Des fleuves Elivages ont coulé des goutes de venim, et il souffla un vent d'où un Géant fut formé. De lui viennent toutes les race Gigantesques'[19]." In this place we have ​not merely an accidental notice of giants, but their full genealogy, and a quotation from a poem still more ancient than the Edda, introduced in support of it. Afterwards mention is made of the Dwarfs; "Alors les Dieux s'etant assis sur leurs thrônes rendirent la justice et délibererent sur ce qui concernoit les Nains. Cette espéce de créatures s'etoit formée dans la poudre de la terre, comme les vers naissent dans un cadavre[20]." And again of the Fairies and Genii, or beings answering to them. "Les unes sont d'origine divine, d'autres descendent des Genies, d'autres des Nains, comme il est dit dans ses vers: Il y a des Fees de diverse origine, quelques unes viennent des Dieux, et d'autres des Genies, d'autres des Nains[21]" This fable gives a very curious account of the fairies: "Voici," says M. Mallet, "une Théorie ​complette de la Féerie;" but they are perhaps, as Bishop Percy has remarked, more analogous to the Weird Sisters than to the popular notion of fairyism in the present day. The ninth fable of the Edda, alludes to "Les Genies lumineux," who are said to be "plus brillans que le soleil; mais les noirs sont plus noirs que la poix[22]." And what is this but the good and bad genii of eastern romance? Thor's "vaillante ceinture, qui a le pouvoir d'accroitre ses forces," and the "chaine magique[23]," are equivalent to the enchanted ring; nor are "le grand serpent de Midgard," with other monsters, so unlike the oriental Dragon[24], as to preclude any comparison.

In short, the reader clearly distinguishes the accordance of the northern mythology ​with that of the East. I could cite many more examples, but they are unnecessary; and if, as Mr. Dunlop imagines, "in the Eastern Peris we may trace the origin of European Fairies[25]," by what possible contrivance, if he will be consistent, can he deny to the fairies of the North, that claim which he grants to the whole of Europe?

I shall now proceed to account for the introduction of romantic fiction, by a channel which appears to me the most natural, and therefore, the most likely to be true. I would begin with that period in which the persecutions of the pagan rulers, drove the primitive Christians into the East. Full of the mysterious wonders of the Apocalypse, not less than of the miraculous records of the Holy Gospels; imbued with all that the Old Testament narrates, and probably anticipating ​similar interposition from Heaven in their own persons; their minds wrought up by many causes to the highest pitch of enthusiasm, and their hearts glowing with a fervour that no other ages can boast—they were well prepared to receive the impressions naturally made upon a heated fancy; and to put credit in tales which the distress of their situation prevented them from investigating, and their ignorance or credulity debarred from doubt. Hence, with the lives of the Fathers of the Church, they interwove prodigies of another land; and being further willing to address the prejudices of those they might hope to convert, adorned their martyrologies with fictitious incidents of oriental structure—even as, to conciliate the heathen, they introduced into their religious buildings, the statues of pagan worship, dignifying them with novel names, and serving them with novel ​ceremonies. Not always indeed was this the process; nor the apotheosis always intentional. Succeeding times exhibited another mode of realizing fables, if I may so speak; and discovered another path to falsehood under the garb of truth. The monks were accustomed to exercise themselves with declaiming upon the merits of their patron saint. To give a new varnish to his fame, to excite yet more powerfully either the intellects or the devotion of the drowsy brotherhood, they added romantic fictions of their own; and invented familiar stories, derived from an infinite variety of sources. But because eastern imaginations were more splendid and captivating—because Jerusalem, and the Holy Sepulchre were in the East—because "an idle and lying horde of pilgrims and palmers," (as Mr. Dunlop expresses it) annually brought thither fresh subjects for credulity to feed ​upon, they were the most partial to oriental conceptions. The fables which they thus constructed were laid by, fairly transcribed, and beautifully illuminated; until, in due time, the monastery coffers were ransacked, and the gross and acknowledged inventions of earlier ascetics were imposed upon their latter brethren, as the undoubted and veritable history of real fathers and real saints.

It is well known that in the earlier ages of Christianity forged gospels were put forth in imitation of the true: while the tenets of the Persian magi were united with the doctrines of the Son of God[26]. If this prove nothing further, it proves the facility with which oriental dogmas were interwoven with those of the west. At a more advanced period, other legends written in Latin, and professing to be narratives of what actually occurred, were again transcribed, with manifold ​amplifications by those into whose hands the manuscripts might happen to fall. Metrical versions were then given; and their popularity soon induced the narrators to step out of their immediate walk of martyrdom, to raise the standard of chivalry in the persons of Brute, Alexander, Charlemagne, and the rest. Let it be observed, that all these stories are of a similar cast; the Lives of the Saints, some how or other, are always connected with the fictions of every hero of chivalry. They invariably work marvels in behalf of their votaries; they bequeath relics of surprizing power—or they appear in dreams; or the utterance of their mighty names counteracts the potency of magical delusions, &c. &c. while the hero himself, treading in the steps of his canonized precursor, becomes a distinguished religieux; and at last takes his place in the calendar "a very, very Saint."

​If my hypothesis, therefore, be just, with the return of the exiled Christians from the East, originated romantic fiction in Europe. But this, of course, must be taken with modifications. Time alone could mature, what in its progress acquired such extensive popularity; and it seems to me, one of the glaring defects of other systems, that they would represent the rise of that particular kind of fable in question to have been almost instantaneous: to have followed swift upon the incursions of the Saracens—to have sprung up mysteriously among the Scandinavians, or equally, if not more so, among the Armoricans. Whereas, that which was so wide in its extent—so singular in its effects—so deeply impressed on a large portion of the globe, must inevitably have had a beginning, and a middle: it must have been long crescent, before it was at the full. It is true, the classical ​system has not all the objections which meet the other, on the score of precipitancy; but still it accounts only for that part of romance which is evidently built upon classic ground. Much of the machinery is wholly different; and from the comparatively few allusions—from the indistinct and monstrous perversion of Grecian or Roman fable, we are sure that their knowledge was very limited. But, in fact, a union of classic traditions with oriental fiction is not only probable but certain; yet my hypothesis still traces it to the East[27]. ​For it will be noticed, that Eastern conceptions invariably predominate, even where the subject is confessedly classic; as in the stories of Alexander, Cæsar, and others. Besides the incursions of these leaders into that quarter of the world, might, as it has happened in similar cases, leave certain traditionary monuments of their own belief[28]. This, however, I by no means intend to urge.

When instances of those who fled, or were exiled to the East, or voluntarily settled there, are so numerous, it would be idle to weary the reader's attention, by entering into any lengthened detail. The names of Clemens of Alexandria, of Ignatius, Tertullian and Origen, are conspicuous in the second and third centuries, with many others, who were in ​constant intercourse with the West; and the soft and yielding character of these times presented a plastic surface, to every, even the slightest touch. In the early part of the fourth century the foundation of Constantinople, which drew from Italy such a large population, would facilitate the interchange of literature; for it is not improbable, that many of the Asiatics[29], driven from their settlements by the influx of the foreigners, would hasten to occupy the homes which the others had vacated. At all events, the new settlers in the East had friends and connections in their father-land, with whom it was natural, and even necessary, that there should be a certain ​intercourse. Towards the conclusion of the third century, when monachism was so vehemently propagated, and the East inundated with a restless class of men, who strolled about in pursuit of proselytes (not much unlike the errant-knights of a subsequent age) the position I have laid down is more clearly evinced. It would be doing injustice to my subject, if, in speaking of this singular fact, I used other language than that of the historian of the Roman empire. "The progress of the monks," says this philosophic writer, "was not less rapid, or universal, than that of Christianity itself. Every province, and at last, every city of the empire, was filled with their increasing multitudes; and the bleak and barren isles, from Lerins to Lipari, that arise out of the Tuscan sea, were chosen by the Anachorets, for the place of their voluntary exile. An easy and perpetual intercourse by sea and ​land connected the provinces of the Roman world; and the life of Hilarion displays the facility with which an indigent hermit of Palestine, might traverse Egypt, embark for Sicily, escape to Epirus, and finally settle in the island of Cyprus. The Latin Christians embraced the religious institutions of Rome. The pilgrims, who visited Jerusalem, eagerly copied in the most distant climes of the earth, the faithful model of monastic life. The disciples of Antony spread themselves beyond the tropic, over the Christian empire of Œthiopia[30]. The monastery of Banchor[31], in Flintshire, which contained above two thousand brethren, dispersed a numerous colony among the barbarians of Ireland; and Iona, one of the Hebrides which was planted by the Irish monks, ​diffused over the northern regions a doubtful ray of science and superstition[32]."

The roving character of the monks, therefore, is another link of the chain by which I introduce oriental fiction into the West; and it is utterly impossible, (maturely weighing the habits and propensities of this class of people), that they should not have picked up and retained the floating traditions of the countries through which they passed. "Some of the early romances," says Mr. Walker[33], "as well as the legends of saints, were undoubtedly fabricated in the deep silence of the cloister. Both frequently sprung from the warmth of fancy, which religious seclusion is so well calculated to nourish; but the former were adorned with foreign embellishments." It is ​exactly on this footing, (though I certainly include the latter—that is, the legends of the saints, in the idea of foreign embellishment!) that I would place the hypothesis I have advanced; and here Mr. Walker's opinion, that Ireland is indebted to Italy for some of her fictions, derived originally from the East, will find confirmation. They might, at the same time, have been received, by way of England, and as history testifies the fact of a colony of monks from thence, taking root in Ireland, the notion is more than probable. But in either case, the original is the same. As further corroborative I may add, that in the ninth century, Crete and Sicily were invaded and conquered by the Arabs; who likewise entered Italy, and almost approached Rome.

I need scarcely allude to the crusades as sources of romantic fabling. They are undisputed parts of the system; and probably, at ​the termination of the third expedition, toward the close of the twelfth century, this kind of writing was at its height. Chivalry was then followed with a steady devotion, which I am inclined to think, soon afterwards abated; and was rather the undulation of the water, succeeding the tempest, than the tempest itself. The fourth and fifth crusade followed at the distance of about twenty years; but upwards of thirty elapsed before the sixth and last. The blood and coin that had been so uselessly lavished, might well conduce to satisfy the most enthusiastic crusader, and stem the torrent of popular superstition: while the surprizing frenzy that had so long desolated both hemispheres, from its very intensity, was calculated to subside, and introduce a juster mode of thinking, and more rational ideas. Time, which allays all other passions, could not but temper this; and the last of these ​frantic expeditions appears, to my imagination, the desperate effort of expiring fanaticism—the last violent struggle of religious persecution in the East. With the decline of chivalry, the fictions, which principally attained their celebrity during its zenith, (because they had become incorporated with it; though originally independent and extraneouss,) would naturally cease to be regarded; and the extravagant conceptions which this institution cherished, would, when good sense resumed, or assumed her proper place, necessarily fall into decay.

  1. ↑ Reliques of Ancient Eng. Poetry, Vol. 3. p. xiii.
  2. ↑ In the application of the 10th Tale, Vol. 1, the book of Tobit, is referred to.
  3. ↑ Rel. of A. E. Poetry, Ibid.
  4. ↑ See "Gesta Dei per Francos," page 1152, Joinville (p. 42) is cited by Gibbon for a similar instance.
  5. ↑ Hist, of Eng. Poetry, Diss. 1.
  6. ↑ Specimens of Anc. Met. Romances, Vol. i. p. 31.
  7. ↑ Rel. of Anc. E. Poetry, Vol. 3. p. xii. Note.
  8. ↑ Dissert. on Romance, and Minstrelsy, Vol. i. p. xx, xxi.
  9. ↑ Du Cange; Gloss. Med. Inf. Lat. Tom. I. Præfatio, p. xxxii. § 31.
  10. ↑ Vol. I. p. 35.
  11. ↑ An unlinked footnote on this page: "Introduction to Amadis of Gaul." refers to the translation of Robert Southey, who argues in the introduction that "The machinery of the early Romance writers is probably rather of classical than of oriental origin." (external scan) (Wikisource contributor note)
  12. ↑ Page 163.
  13. ↑ Dissertation I. p. xxviii.
  14. ↑ Hist. of Eng. Poetry, Vol. I. p. 110.
  15. ↑ Vol. I. p. 164.
  16. ↑ "The Edda was compiled, undoubtedly with many additions and interpolations, from fictions and traditions in the old Runic poems, by Soemund Sigfusson, surnamed the Learned, about the year 1057."—Warton. But Warton has not proved his undoubtedly; and though I do not deny the probability of interpolations, I shall not relinquish the Giants, &c. without further proof.
  17. ↑ "Monumens de la Mythol. et de la Poesie des Celtes," &c. p. 13. Pref.
  18. ↑ "But the Asiatics were more quick-sighted; nay, they foresaw his journey, and deceived him with their enchantments. Then he beheld a lofty palace; its roofs were covered with golden shields, like a new roof. Thus Diodolfius speaks of it. 'The Asiatics, more skilful, made the roof of shining gold, and its walls of stone; the foundations of the hall were mountains.'"—Goranson's Lat. Tr. of the Edda.
  19. ↑ Mythologie Celtique. p. 11.
  20. ↑ Mythologie Celtique, p. 30.
  21. ↑ Ibid. p. 36.
  22. ↑ Mithologie Celtique, p. 40.
  23. ↑ Ibid. p. 84 and 90.
  24. ↑ The Apocryphal continuation of the book of Esther, and Bel and the Dragon, seem to bespeak the prevalence of this fiction in the East at a very early period.
  25. ↑ Hist. of Fiction, Vol. I. p. 165.
  26. ↑ See Mosheim's Eccles. Hist. Cent. I. and III.
  27. ↑ The process by which Ulysses preserved himself from the charms of Circe, is very similar to that which occurs in the story of "Beder Prince of Persia, and Giahaure Princess of Samandal," in the Arabian Tales; and the fable of the Cyclops is found in the third voyage of Sinbad the Sailor. But Homer is known to have been a great wanderer, and to have picked up much traditionary matter in the East and elsewhere. Speaking of the fable of Atalanta, Warton has observed, (Diss. on the Gest. Rom. v. 3.) that "It is not impossible that an oriental apologue might have given rise to the Grecian fable." This, I am inclined to think, has often been the case.
  28. ↑ There is in the British Museum, I understand, a Turkish MS. Poem, of which Alexander the Great is the hero. It is said to have been written in the 14th century, if not earlier.
  29. ↑ I use this term, and one or two following, with some latitude. Gibbon calls the little town of Chrysopolis, or Scrutari, "the Asiatic suburb of Constantinople:" and the extreme approximation of the two shores; the constant and easy intercourse from, and before the time of Xerxes, &c. downward, not omitting the Asiatic population which has been so long naturalized there, sufficiently authorize the expression.
  30. ↑ See Jerom. (tom. i. p. 126); Assemanni, (Bibliot. Orient, tom. iv. p. 92. p. 857–919) and Geddes's Church Hist, of Œthiopia, p. 29, 30, 31.
  31. ↑ Camden's Britannia, Vol. i. p. 666, 667.
  32. ↑ Gibbon's Decline and Fall, Vol. 6. p. 245, 6, Ed. 1811.
  33. ↑ "Essay on the Origin of Romantic Fabling in Ireland." p. 4.—4to.
Retrieved from "https://en.wikisource.org/w/index.php?title=Gesta_Romanorum_Vol._I_(1871)/Introduction_(a)&oldid=6831562"