THE LIBRARY
OF
THE UNIVERSITY
OF CALIFORNIA
LOS ANGELES
Silver Store
Silver Store
COLLECTED FROM
MEDIAEVAL, CHRISTIAN, AND
JEWISH MINES
By
S. BARING-GOULD, M.A.
New Edition
(Fifth Impression)
London :
SKEFFINGTON & SON,
34, Southampton Street, Strand, W.C.
Publishers to His Majesty the King.
DEDICATED
•ID
THE RIGHT HONOURABLE
THE DOWAGER VISCOUNTESS DOWNE.
959680
PREFACE TO FIRST EDITION.
In a former work, " Post-Mediaeval Preachers," the author drew
attention to a class of ancient writers who are rarely studied,
and whose very names are known only to the book-hunter.
From these and kindred sources, and also from the Talmud,
the majority of the legends and anecdotes in this volume
have been drawn.
No apology is offered for introducing them to the public.
It is not in the power of many to toil through ponderous tomes,
written in languages with which they are not familiar ; and it is
proper for those who have facility and leisure for this study, to
employ what they have acquired for the public good.
It has afforded the writer no little pleasure to bring, like
Goldner, roses of gold out of the gloomy, tangled overgrowth
of Mediaeval fancy and superstition, in the hopes that the
viii. Preface to First Edition.
drudgery and routine of nineteenth century life may not have
dulled the keenness of public perception of the beautiful and
pure and true.
Although the sources whence some of these tales have been
drawn are not strictly speaking Mediaeval, yet the writers from
whose volumes they have been immediately derived did not
invent the stories, but took them from earlier writers. In such
cases as the originals have not been accessible to me, I have
given the reference to the later compilation.
Some may object to the introduction of lighter pieces at the
end of the book ; but the " Silver Store " would not have fairly
represented the genial, laughter-loving, as well as moral and
devout temper of the ages which invented these tales, had the
element of grotesqueness been excluded. The droll and the
lovely were strangely intermixed and wonderfully blended in
the Mediaeval mind, as is instanced in the architectural master-
pieces of the middle ages, where the quaint gurgoyle harmonizes
with the angel and the flower.
Two or three of the humorous pieces at the end of the volume
certainly hit the ladies rather hard. It must be remembered
by forbearing and forgiving woman, that the perpetrators of
these stories were confirmed old bachelors.
Preface to First Edition. ix.
Lest the writer should be supposed to sympathise with these
ungenerous attacks, he has appended in the notes the originals
on which the verses are based, which will clear him of the
imputation of having invented these Hbels, and will afford the
curious choice specimens of monkish Latin.
Let the fair sex remember also, that, where the writer has
been free to express his own sentiments, as in Dr. Bonomi, he
has not spared the lords of creation, and that compensation is
offered in the former part of the volume. Surely Beruriah and
Ruth will make amends for Mrs. Malone and the Judge's wife.
A few of the pieces in the " Silver Store " have already appeared
in " Fraser's Magazine," and one in '* Temple Bar."
DALTON, THIRSK,
March i, iS6S.
PREFACE TO SECOND EDITION.
The author of these verses entirely disclaims to be a poet ; he
has done nothing more than versify sundry legends and anec-
dotes that he has come across in his reading, in hopes that in
this form they may give pleasure to those who are not exacting
in their demands. They were written and published fourteen
years ago, and have gone out of print. A few additional pieces
have been added, but none of more recent origin, as none have
been written more recently. The sources from which these
tales have been drawn are inaccessible to most readers, and
this serves as the author's apology for their introduction.
Lew Trenchard, Devon,
March, 1882.
CONTENTS.
PAGE
THE devil's confession .... I
THE SECRET OF LIFE . . . . lO
mother's love . . , . . '13
THE BUILDING OF S. SOPHIA . . . 15
EASTER ....... 24
THE CURSING HOUR ..... 26
ROBIN redbreast's CORN . . . -35
THE RABBI JOACHIM ..... 39
THE EMPTY SOCKET . . . . .44
THE TRIBUTE OF THE MOUNTAINS ... 52
TURN AGAIN . . . . . • 5^
POPE BONIFACE VIII. - ... 63
GOLDNER . . . . . .66
THE LITTLE SCHOLAR . . . , 72
THORKELL-MANI , . . , , » 77
xii. Contents.
A PARABLE ...•••
BLIND AUSTIN .....
LANCELOT ......
THE SWALLOWS OF CITEAUX
POOR ROBIN ......
THE OLIVE TREE ....
BISHOP BENNO AND THE FROGS . .
THE UNIVERSAL MOTHER . . .
THE LOAN ......
DOCTOR FAUSTUS ....
THE wife's TREASURE ....
THE ARMS OF MAYENCE ....
THE MASS FOR THE DEAD ....
THE THREE CROWNS ....
THE rabbi's SON-IN-LAW :
I. THE WEDDING OF AKIBA . . ■• ^5°
II. THE MORROW OF THE WEDDING • > • ^5^
III. THE RETURN • • • • • ^"^
THE MINER OF FALUN ..... l68
THE GIFT OF THE KING . . . . I? I
PAGE
80
81
89
93
98
102
105
no
III
118
"5
128
133
142
Contents. xiii.
HUMOROUS POEMS.
PAGE
DOCTOR BONOMI . . . . , . l8l
LIGHTENING THE VESSEL . . . .197
THE SENTENCE OF THE THIEF . . , , 20I
NOTES
205
Stiver ^tore^
THE DEVIL'S CONFESSION.
C^SARTUS Heisterbachensis.
De Afiraculis et Yisionibus sui Temporis, lib. iii. c. 26. A.D. 123a
Through the tall minster windows of Cologne
The flaming saffron of the evening shone ;
A golden dove, suspended in the choir,
It turned into a bird of living fire,
Floating above the sacramental shrine.
It was the evening of that Maundy night,
When, in the ghastly glimmering moonlight,
The Saviour prostrate fell in sweat of blood,
And by His side an awe-struck angel stood.
Cljr BtitiVS CanicSSian.
Wiping the pain-drops from the face divine.
In the confessionals, from hour to hour,
Sat the priests, wielding the absolving power,
And penitents were thronging all the fane,
Seeking release from the long gnawing pain
Of conscience poisoned by the tooth of sin.
And many a sob broke out upon the still
Dim air, and sent an answering thrill
Through unlocked hearts ; and, praying on their knees,
They bent, and waited their turn of release
From horrors haunting the waste soul within.
A little space apart, with restless eyes,
Upon his face a blank look of surprise,
And on his brow a shadow of great dread —
Not kneeling, not erect, with out-thrust head —
Stood a mute stranger in a nook of gloom,
Where lay a prelate with a seven-clasped book,
And, in one hand, a floreate pastoral crook,
Sculptured in alabaster on his tomb.
The strangers dress was carved with antique slash,
djc ©rfatl'iS Conff)S^t0n.
Around his waist was knotted a red sash,
And in his bonnet danced a scarlet plume.
He was a fallen spirit. Now he saw,
With a wild flutter of hope, hate, and awe,
Soul's that were blackened with guilt's deepest stain
Pass to their shriving, and come forth again
Assoiled and white ; then caught a distant ring
Of angel's chanting, "To the Lamb be praise
Who from the Book of Death does sins erase
With His own blood ! O ecstasy untold !
When brought the lost sheep back into the fold,
And found the coin marked with the image of the King."
He thought " If these from chains are sent forth free,
Can there, O can there be a chance for me ?
That I, who long from Heaven have outcast been,
I who the joys of Paradise have seen,
Flowing from union with a holy God ;
That I, who tasted have the woes of Hell,
Since before Michael's flashing lance I fell
And all the passages of gloom have trod,
5rt)c SBebiV^ Confcssiion,
Where burns the fire of an undying Hate,
Burning to strangle, scorch, and suffocate,
And Envy's worm feeds ever ; where.
Horror of all, is unrelieved Despair ;
That I, like these, may also go forth shriven,
Once more become a denizen of Heaven !"
When the last foot was gone, and all the aisle
Was silent, he stepped forth with leer of guile,
And, gliding down to a confessional, brushed
In by a priest in meditation hushed,
And said :
" To thee will I unclose my sin
Of lawless thought, and word, and evil deed,
That I, of all the consequences freed,
When the bright doors are open may pass in."
Then said the priest, " Begin, in God's trine Name."
" I have a hitch of speech, and cannot frame
The words in German."
" Then in thine own tongue.'
The Devil muttered, with a sort of scoff :
Cijc 59cbtr;S Cnnfrjf^faii.
" Nomine Dagon, Beelzebub, Ashtaroth.
My sins, O father ! are of deepest dye.
They bar me out from tranquil courts on high,
Where endless anthems to my God are sung."
Then from his lips was his confession hissed ;
It was of crimes a long appalling hst.
But scarce had he advanced a little way
Ere the confessor ordered, angry : " Stay !
Thou art not kneeling, son, that I can see."
" Father, there's something crooked in my knee."
" Go on, then," said the priest, in lower tone.
" I've sinned exceedingly, through fault my own,
Have wakened up in peaceful families strife,
Have urged the husband on to hate the wife.
And the child bade against its parents rise.
The thief I prompted to his villainy ;
The adult'rous flame was kindled hot by me ;
I turned the glances of malignant eyes ;
As sower, sowed in families mistrust ;
And Friendship cankered I with envy's rust ;
The murderer I prompted to his deed,
Clje Bffair^ €anits^ion.
1 roused the insatiable money-greed —
Men's eyes I dazzled with the blink of gold,
And taught that Heaven could be bought and sold ;
And faith I staggered, planting weeds of doubt.
The sland'rous lie by me was defdy wrought ;
Pure minds I sullied with polluting thought,
Working like leaven."
Here fiercely he laughed out,
A hideous burst of wild discordant laughter
Shaking the wall, and quivering in each rafter,
And flung in echoes all along the roof.
The old confessor, starting, terrified,
Said : " In the sacred Name of Him who died,
Profane one ! outrage not the holy rite ! "
" Pardon me, father, pray ; my breast I smite.
I have convulsions, but at thy reproof
The fit is past. And now let me proceed."
Then he unfolded many a godless deed,
And muttered on an hour and was not done.
So the confessor stopped him, saying, " Son,
Thou couldst not crowd these many actions in
Elbe BebiVi Canfe^^tan.
A hundred years of unremitted sin."
"A hundred times ten hundred, rather say,
Labouring at crime, unflagging, night and day,
Through all the ages since the hour I fell."
Shuddered the priest, and made the holy sign,
" In the Name of God, and of His Son divine.
Who art thou ? answer."
"A spirit lost of hell."
The priest leapt up with an affrighted cry :
" Angels of Jesus, stand me succouring by."
Then he relapsed, and laid aside his dread :
" Why hast thou sought this sacrament ? " he said,
" Wherefore these horrors to my ear reveal ? "
" I saw thee vested with a wondrous might,
To make the sons of darkness heirs of light,
Blackest of souls become as drifted snow ;
And, to the sentence of the priest below
The Judge of all things setteth to His seal.
Then thought I : Oh ! if shattered were my chain,
I might the gates of Paradise regain.
Say, is there any gleam of hope for me ? "
5ri)C BcUVi CanffiSitDit.
" I know the mercy of the Crucified
Is very lofty, deep, exceeding wide ;
Then if thy sorrow only be sincere,
In the Lord's name, I bid thee have no fear ;
The blood of Christ will reach as far as thee."
" Father, why question thou my strong desire
To fly the abysses of eternal fire,
And from keen misery obtain release.
And refuge in the home of endless peace ?
There comes a thrill on me as now I grope,
With feeble glimmer for a thread of hope."
" Son, ere I utter the absolving word,
Of thy contrition I must be assured ;
Therefore on thee a penance I impose."
" Give me ten thousand of acutest woes,
And from my purpose, mark you, if I swerve,
Bid me be bound upon a flaming wheel,
Set with the sharpest blades of tempered steel,
Bid it revolve in fire at whirlwind speed,
Parch me, and lacerate, and make me bleed
Ci)« SBefail'^ Confession.
And suffer with the finest mortal nerve.
Turn into flaming drops my coursing tears,
Bid me thus writhe through fifty thousand years,
And I will hug the woe and not repine."
•' Son," said the pastor, " no such test be thine.
As thou didst fall through thy unbounded pride,
Bow to the figure of the Crucified
But once, and utter with a broken sigh, —
' I am not worthy to look up to Heaven ;
Oh, be free pardon to the rebel given.' "
" What ?" said the Devil, with an angry cry,
" Bow to a God so lost to sense of shame,
As to take human nature and man's name !
Bow to a God who could Himself demean
To suck the breast, and sweep the kitchen clean,
And saw up chips for Joseph ? One who died
Upon a gallows with a mangled side !
Ha ! when another twist of Fortune's wheel
Would have sent me up, and cast Him below !
Ha ! To the Son of Mary shall I bow ?"
And with a curse, he turned upon his heel.
THE SECRET OF LIFE,
With a boom of cannon, and dance of plume,
And flourish of banners fair,
With a flash of helmet, cuirass, and sword,
And trumpets' shrill fanfare ;
On the Kaiser's Name Day,
Prague was in festal array.
First a troop of Pandours on leopards' hides
Cast over their steeds milk white,
With their jackets ajaunt and coquettish flaunt
Of lances atipped with light.
What a crowd hedged the way
On the Emperor's Name Day !
Cri)e ferret af itifr. 11
On her shoulder aloft a mother held
Her infant the show to see.
All the bells were ringing, the choirs singing,
The city kept jubilee.
The two-headed eagle, black and gold,
The wind over the Rath-house unrolled.
But the child was askew with tortured spine,
Its neck was ableed and sore,
And the white little face, a tear trace,
The signet of suff' ring bore.
The prophecy there writ plain
Of a grave or a future of pain.
All the pageant and pomp she heeded not.
But twisted herself away,
On her mother's shoulder, and eager took
Her Prayer Book, wherewith to play,
Where a cross was inlaid.
And — with that she played.
12
Ctjc ^ntct of Eife.
On the symbol of Death she laid her hand,
And along it she drew each line,
Then stooping she kissed, and again she kissed,
— Still playing — the sacred sign.
To the babe was revealed
Things to wise men concealed.
MOTHER'S LOVE.*
In a village, early morning,
Open stood a chapel door ;
To the chiming bell I entered,
Knelt me on the holy floor.
It was harvest time of labour,
Few were there in worship bent,
Whilst the celebrant at altar
Ministered the Sacrament.
Then a mother stole by meekly,
Bearing at her breast a child ;
* This little incident was mentioned in a Bavarian magazine some years ago,
in which I saw it, when staying in the mountains, but I do not recollect what
the magazine was.
14 jHotljrr'^ Enfae.
Mother's love, and love of Heaven,
Doubly lit her features mild.
With a mixed emotion stirred
Saw I how that mother stood,
After that the priest had meted
To her mouth the Angels' Food.
How with fervour o'er her baby,
Bowing to its lips of red,
With a kiss to it imparted,
Half the Sacramental Bread.
Oh ! of mother's love the fervour I
Flower of God on earth below !
Sharing all things, self-forgetting,
Heaven itself it would bestow.
THE BUILDING OF S. SOPHIA, (i)
Justinian, Emperor and Augustus, bent
Upon Byzantium's embellishment,
Whilst musing, sudden started up and cried :
" There is no worthy minster edified
Under the Ruler of earth, sea, and skies,
The One eternal, and the only wise.
Great Solomon a temple built of old
To the Omnipotent, at cost untold.
Great was his power, but mine must his surpass
As ruddy gold excels the yellow brass.
I too a costly church will dedicate,
To preach God's Majesty and tell my state."
Then called the Emperor an artist skilled,
With sense of beauty and proportions filled,
16 5r^c 33titlifing; of ^. ^op^ia.
And said, " In Wisdom's name I bid thee build.
Built of the best, best ways, and make no spare,
The cost entire my privy purse shall bear.
Solomon took gifts of gold, and wood, and stone,
But I, Justinian, build the Church alone.
Then go, ye heralds ! forth to square and street,
With trumpet blare, and everywhere repeat,
That a great minster shall erected be
By our august pacific Majesty ;
And bid none reckon in the work to share,
For we ourselves the entire expense will bear."
And as Justinian lay that night awake,
Weary and waiting for white day to break,
The thought rose up, " Now when this flesh is dead,
My soul, by its attendant spirit led,
Shall hear the angel at the great gate call,
What ho ! Justinian comes, magnifical,
Who to the Eternal Wisdom Uncreate,
A church did build, endow, and consecrate.
The like of which by man was never trod :
Then rise, Justinian ! to the realm of God."
€lfe JJuinitns at ^. ^ojifjia. 17
Now day and night the workmen build ; apace
The church arises, full of form and grace ;
The walls upstart, the porch and portals wide
Are traced, the marble benches down each side,
The sweeping apse, the basement of the piers,
The white hewn stone is laid in level tiers.
Upshoot the columns, then the arches turn,
The roof with gilded scales begins to burn.
Next, white as mountain snow the mighty dome
Hangs like a moon above the second Rome.
Within, mosaic seraphs spread their wings,
And cherubs circle round the King of kings.
On whirling wheels, besprent with myriad eyes ;
And golden, with gold hair, against blue skies.
Their names beside them, twelve Apostles stand;
Six on the left, and six on the right hand.
And from an aureole of jewelled rays.
The Saviour's countenance doth calmly gaze.
Fixed is the silver altar, raised the screen,
A golden network prinked red, blue, and green,
With icons studded, hung with lamps of fire;
B
18 Cbe 3ButHftns of ^. ^njpbia.
And ruby curtained round the sacred choir.
Then, on a slab above the western door,
Through which, next day, the multitude shall pour,
That all may see and read, the sculptors grave : —
This House to God, Justinian Emperor gave."
And now, with trumpet blast and booming gong
Betwixt long lines of an expectant throng,
The imperial procession sweeps along.
The saffron flags and crimson banners flare
Against the fair blue sky above the square.
In front the walls of Hagia Sophia glow,
A frost of jewels set in banks of snow
Begemmed, and purple wreathed, the sacred sign,
Labarum, moves, the cross of Constantine.
Then back the people start on either side,
As ripples past a molten silver tide
Of Asian troops in polished mail ; next pass
Byzantine guards, a wave of Corinth brass.
And then, with thunder tramp, the Varanger bands
Of champions gathered from grey northern lands,
eri)? Jjuiliiins at ^. ^njif)ta. 19
Above whom Odin's raven flaps its wing ;
And, in their midst, in a gold-harnessed ring
Of chosen heroes, on a cream-white steed
In gilded trappings, of pure Arab breed,
To dedicate his church doth Csesar ride
In all his splendour, majesty, and pride.
With fuming frankincense and flickering lights,
The vested choir come forth as he alights.
Now shrill the silver clarions loud and long,
And clash the cymbals, bellows hoarse the gong.
A wild barbaric crash. Then on the ear
Surges the solemn chanting, full and clear :
" Lift up your heads ye gates, and open swing,
Ye everlasting doors before the King ! "
Back start the silver valves — in sweeps the train
Next throng the multiiude the sacred fane.
Justinian enters, halts a little space,
With haughty exultation on his face,
And, at a glance, the stately church surveys.
Then reads above the portal of the nave —
20 Clje JUuilatufl of S". ^optfa.
"This House to God, Euphrasia, widow, gave."
"What ho ! " he thunders, with a burst of ire.
As to his face flashes a scarlet fire ;
" Where is the sculptor ? Silence all you choir 1
Where is the sculptor ? "
Fails the choral song,
A hush falls instant on the mighty throng.
" Bring forth the sculptor who yon sentence wrought ;
His merry jest he'll find full dearly bought."
Then fell before him, trembling, full of dread.
The graver. " Csesar, God-preserved ! " he said,
" I carved not that ! exchanged has been the name
From that I chiselled. I am not to blame.
This is a miracle, — no mortal hand
Could banish one and make another stand,
And on the marble leave nor scar nor trace, '
Where was the name deep cut, it did efface.
Beside the letters. Sire ! the stone is whole."
" Ha ! " scoffed the Emperor, " now by my soul.
I deemed the age of marvels passed away ! "
srije 23uinrtng al ^. ^cjjljta. 21
Forth stepped the Patriarch with, " Sire, I pray,
Hearken ! I saw him carve, nor I alone,
Thy name and title which have fled the stone :
And I believe the finger was Divine
Which set another name and cancelled thine —
The finger that, which wrote upon the wall
Belshazzar's doom, in Babel's sculptured hall •
The finger that, which cut in years before
On Sinai's top, on tables twain, the Law."
Justinian's brow grew dark with wrath and fear .
" Who is Euphrasia, widow, I would hear,
This lady who my orders sets at naught,
And robs me of the recompense I sought.
Who is Euphrasia?"
But none spake a word.
*' What ! of this wealthy lady have none heard ? "
Again upon the concourse silence fell,
For none could answer make, and tidings tell.
" What ! no man know ! Go some the city round,
And ask if such be in Byzantium found."
22 Efit 38utltttng of ^. ^opljia.
Then said a priest, and faltered : " Of that name
Is one, but old, and very poor, and lame,
Who has a cottage close upon the quay ;
But she, most surely. Sire, it cannot be."
" Let her be brought." Then some the widow seek
And lead the aged woman, tottering, weak,
With tattered dress, and thin white straying hair,
Bending upon a stick, and with feet bare.
"Euphrasia," said the monarch sternly, "speak !
Wherefore didst thou my strict commandment break
And give, against my orders, to this pile ?"
The widow answered simply, with faint smile,
" Sire ! it was nothing, for I only threw
A little straw before the beasts which drew
The marble from the ships, before I knew
Thou wouldst be angry. Sire ! I had been ill
Three weary months, and on my window-sill
A little linnet perched, and sang each day
So sweet, it cheered me as in bed 1 lay,
/
5ri)E 33utnitn5 af ^. ^opi)ia. 23
And filled my heart with love to Him who sent
The linnet to me ; then, with full intent
To render thanks, when God did health restore,
I from my mattress pulled a little straw
And cast it to the oxen that did draw
The marble burdens — I did nothing more."
"Look !" said the Caesar, "read above that door!
Small though thy gift, it was the gift of love,
And is accepted of our King above ;
And mine rejected as the gift of pride
By Him who humble lived and humble died.
Widow, God grant hereafter, when we meet,
I may attain a footstool at thy feet ! "
EASTER.
At the breaking of the day,
Very early on her way
Mary Magd'len spices bears
Weeping penitential tears.
Through the gloom
She seeks the tomb,
At the breaking of the day.
Heaven's purple heights are bowed ,
Very early dropped a cloud
Out of Heaven, the larks up sprang,
And a joyous carol sang ;
Gabriel white,
His face alight,
Stood upon the shining cloud.
(SugUv. 25
With the dawning hght he came,
Round him quivered amber flame,
Almonds burst their buds and bloomed,
Celandine their gold assumed.
Jonquils woke.
The cuckoo spoke,
When in radiant robes he came.
At the rising of the sun,
This celestial song was sung —
Death is conquered, winter's o'erj
Life is sprung to light once more.
From the prison
The Lord is risen,
Rising with the rising sun.
On the grass still hangs the dew.
Tears in Mary's eyelids too.
Banish sorrow, briny tears.
Desolation, heartache, fears.
Wipe thine eye.
The dew was dry
When the news through Jewry flevr.
THE CURSING HOUR.
A TALMUDIC LEGEND.
Convulsed, with frequent moan^
Jehoshua hid alone,
And wept and shuddered in the gloom.
Concealed in a secluded room.
And bitterly he cried,
"Would God that I had died
A little infant on the breast
Of my sweet mother now at rest."
About his knee
Passionately
He knit his hanQs, and rocking, said,