PATIENT GRISSEL.

"I wol you tell a Tale which that I

Lerned at Padowe of a worthy clerk

As preved by his wordes and his werk:

He is now ded and nailed in his cheste,

I pray to God to yeve his soule reste.

Fraunceis Petrark, the Laureate poete,

Hight this clerk whos retherike swete

Enlumined all Itaille of poetrie"—

so says Chaucer in the prologue to the "Clerkes Tale," but Petrarch was not the author of this ever favourite story. It seems to have been the undoubted offspring of Boccaccio's fancy, even Mr. Baring Gould failing to trace an Indian source for it, as he has done in so many tales of the "Decameron."[*] In fact, Petrarch, although intimately acquainted with Boccaccio, never saw the tale until 1374, just before his death at Arquà. He at once fell in love with it, and translated it into Latin, with alterations. This translation was never printed, but there is a copy in the library at Paris, and another at Magdalen College, Oxford. It was dramatized in France in 1393, under the title of "Le Mystere de Griseildis Marquis de Salucas;" again in England, "The Pleasant Comedie of Patient Grissill. As it hath been sundrie times lately plaid by the right honorable the Erle of Nottingham (Lord high Admirall) his seruants. London: Imprinted for Henry Rocket, and are to be solde at the long Shop vnder S. Mildreds Church in the Poultry. 1603."[†] There was also a comedy by Ralph Radcliffe, called "Patient Griseld," but this was never printed; and in modern times it has been dramatized by Mr. Edwin Arnold.

[*] "Bouchet, in his Annales d'Aquitaine, I. iii., maintains that Griselda flourished about the year 1025, and that her real history exists in manuscript under the title of 'Parement des Dames.'"—Notes and Queries, 3rd Series, vol. iii. p. 389.

[†] Of this play only two copies are known.

THE
HISTORY
OF THE NOBLE
MARQUIS OF SALUS
AND
Patient GRISSEL

Printed and Sold in Aldermary Church
Yard, Bow Lane London.

Chap. 1.
The Marquis of Salus is sollicited by his Nobles to
Marry; he consents, and falls in Love with a poor
Countryman's Daughter.

Between the mountains of Italy and France, towards the South, lies the territory of Salus, a country flourishing with excellent towns, and some castles, and peopled with the best sort of gentry and peasants.—Among them lived not long since a nobleman of great reputation and honour, who was Lord of the country, and by name Gualter, Marquis of Salus; to whom, as the government appertained by his right of inheritance, so their obedience attended by desert of his worthiness. He was young in years and never had thought of marriage until pressed to it by the desires and petitions of his people, who often importuned him thereto.—At last he consented to it, and fame soon spread the report abroad, and each Princess was filled with hopes of being the Marquis's happy partner.

All this time the Marquis continued his hunting, and usually resorted to a little village not far from Selus where lived a poor countryman named Janicola, overworn in years, and overcome with distress, having nothing to make his life comfortable but an only daughter, who was exceedingly beautiful, modest, and virtuous. But as fire will not lay hid where there is matter of combustibles, so virtue cannot be obscured if there is tongues and ears; for the report of her reached the Marquis, who being satisfied of the truth, and finding her a fit woman to be his wife, resolved to forward the business.—In the mean time the Court was furnished, a Crown and rich apparel prepared for the Queen; but who she was the Nobles all wondered, and the damsels marvelled; while the people in general flocked to see who was to be the happy woman.

At last the nuptial day arrived, and each one looked for a bride, but who she was the next Chapter must discover.

Chap. 2.
The Marquis demands, and Marries the Old Man's
Daughter.

When all things were prepared, the Noble Marquis took with him a great Company of Earls Lords Knights Squires, Gentlemen, Ladies, and Attendants, and went from the palace into the country, towards Janicola's house, where the fair maid Grissel, ignorant of what had happened, or of what was to come, had made herself and house clean, determining with the rest of the neighbouring virgins to see this solemnity; at which instant arrived the Marquis with his Company, meeting Grissel with two pitchers of Water which she was carrying home. He asked where her father was? She answered, in the house—Go then, replied he, and tell him I would speak with him. The poor man came forth to him somewhat abashed, until the Marquis taking him by the hand, said That he had a secret to impart to him; and taking him from the rest of the Company spoke to him in the following manner:

"Janicola,

I know thou always lovedst me, and I am satisfied thou dost not hate me now; you have been pleased when I have been pleased, and you will not now be sorrowful if I am satisfied; nay I am sure if it lies in your power, you will further my delight; for I am come with the intention of begging your daughter to be my wife; and I to be your son in law, will you take me for your friend, as I have chose you for a father."

The poor old man was so astonished, that he could not speak for Joy, but when the extasy was over, he thus faintly replied;

"Most gracious Sovereign,

You are my Lord, and therefore I must agree to your will; but you are generous, and therefore take her in God's name, and make me a glad father; and let that God which raiseth up the humble and meek, make her a befitting wife and a fruitful mother."

Why then, quoth the Marquis, let us enter your house, for I must ask her a question before you. So he went in, the company tarrying without in vast astonishment—The fair maid was busied in making it as handsome as she could, and proud to have such a guest under her roof, amazed why he came so accompanied, little conjecturing so great a blessing; but at last the Marquis took hold of her hand and used these speeches. To tell you this blush becomes you, were but a folly; or that your modesty has graced your comliness, is unbecoming my greatness; but in one word, your father and I have agreed to make you my wife, therefore, delays shall not entangle you with suspicion, nor two days longer protract the kindness, only I must be satisfied in this, if your heart affords willing entertainment to the motion, and your virtue and constancy to the following resolution; that is, not to repine at my pleasure in anything, nor presume on contradiction when I command; for as good soldiers must obey without disputing the business, so must virtuous wives dutifully consent without reproof; therefore be advised how you answer, and I charge thee take heed that thy tongue utters no more than thy heart conceits. All this time was Grissel wondering at these words; but thinking nothing impossible with God, made the Marquis the following answer:

"My gracious Lord,

I am not ignorant of your greatness, and know my own weakness. There is nothing worthy in me to be your servant, therefore can have no desert to be your wife. Notwithstanding, because God is the author of Miracles, I yield to your pleasure, and praise him for the fortune. Only this I will be bold to say. That your will shall be my delight; and death shall be more welcome to me, than a word of displeasure against you."

After this the Ladies adorned Grissel with robes befitting her state; the Marquis and all the company returned back to Salus, where in the Cathedral, in the sight of the people according to the fullness of religious ceremonies they were by the priest essentially joined together.

Chap. 3.
Lady Grissels Patience tried by the Marquis.

To the other blessinge in process of time, there was added the birth of a daughter, that rejoiced the mother and gladded the father; the country triumphed, and the people clapped their hands with joy—Notwithstanding this, fortune had a trick to check her pride; and prosperity must be seasoned with some crosses or else it would corrupt us too much. Whereupon the Marquis determined to prove his wife, and to make trial of her virtues indeed; and so taking a convenient season, after the child was weaned, he one day repaired secretly to her chamber, and seeming angry, imparted to her some of his mind.

The lady hearing him, sorrowfully apprehended the Marquis's resolution to her grief (though every word was like an arrow in her side) yet admitted of the temptation, and disputing with herself to what end the virtues of patience, modesty, forbearance, fortitude and magnanimity was ordained, if they had not proper subjects to work upon.

When the Marquis saw her constancy, he was pleased with her modest behaviour, and said but little at that time, but between joy and fear departed; resolving to make a farther trial of her.

Chap. 4.
The Marquis's Daughter is taken from her Mother
and sent to Bologne to be there brought up.

Not long after this Conference between the Marquis and his Lady, he called a faithful servant, to whom he imparted the secret, and what he meant to do with his child; and then sent him to his wife with an unsavoury message—When she had heard him out, remembering the conference the Marquis had with her, and apprehending there was no room for dispute, feared it was ordained to die; so taking it up in her arms with a mothers blessing she kissed it, being not once amazed or troubled, since her lord would have it so, only she said, I must, friend, intreat one thing at your hand, that out of humanity and Christian love, you leave not the body to be devoured by beasts and birds, for she is worthy of a grave.

The man, having got the Child, durst not tarry, but returned to his master, repeating every circumstance of her answer that might aggrandise her constancy.

The Marquis considering the great virtue of his wife, and looking on the beauty of his daughter, began to entertain some compassion, and to retract his wilfulness; but at last resolution won the field of pity, and having, as he thought so well begun, would not soon give over. But with the same secrecy he had taken her from his wife, he sent her away to his sister the Dutchess of Bologne, with presents of worth, and letters of recommendation, containing in them the nature of the business, and the manner of her bringing up, which she accordingly put into practice.

Chap. 5.
The Marquis makes a farther Trial of his Wife's
Patience.

As this patient and wonderful lady was one day sporting with her infant son, like a tempest did this messenger of death interpose; yet as if he was conscious of disquieting her greatness, he came forward with preamble, craving pardon of the lady, that the message might seem blameless. He was not so sudden in his demand, as she was in her despatch; for she immediately gave him this child also, with the same enforcements as she had done the former.—

In the like manner he returned to the Marquis, who had still more cause for astonishment, and less reason to abuse so obedient a wife; but for a time sent this child likewise to his sister, who understanding her brother's mind brought up the children in such a manner, that tho' no man ever knew whose children they were, yet they supposed them to belong to some great potentate.

The ordering the business in this manner, made the Marquis once again settle himself in Salus, where he kept an open house to all comers, and was proud of nothing but the love of his wife; for although he had more than once tried her patience, yet she never complained, but seemed to love him the more.

By this time his unkindness to her got spread among the people, who all admired and wondered at her for her constancy and patience.

Chap. 6.
Grissel disrobed, and sent home to her Father by her
Husband; her Son and Daughter brought Home,
under pretence of the Marquis's marrying her;
Grissel is sent for to make preparations, and her
Condescension thereon.

After this the Marquis was resolved to put her to another trial, so sent for her cloaths, and commanded her to go home again to her father's naked, except her shift; when, being in the midst of her nobility she disrobed herself, and returned back to her father's Cottage. They could not but deplore the alteration of fortune; yet she could not but smile that her virtue was predominant over her passion. They all exclaimed against the cruelty of her Lord; but she used no invective. They wondered at her so great virtue and patience; she answered, They were befitting a modest woman.

By this time they approached the house and old Janicola having been acquainted with it; and seeing his daughter only in her smock, amidst such honourable company, he ran into the house and brought the robes she formerly wore, and putting them on said Now, thou art in thy element, and kissing her bid her welcome. The Company was in amaze at his moderation, and wondered how nature could be so restrained from passion, and that any woman could have so much grace and virtue. In which amaze not without some reprehension of fortune and their Lord's cruelty, they left her to the poverty of the Cell, and returned to the glory of the palace, where they recounted to the Marquis how she continued in her moderation and patience; and the father comforting her in her condition.

Not long after came the Dutchess of Bologne, with her glorious company, she sending word beforehand she should be at Salus such a day. Whereupon the Marquis sent a troop to welcome her, and prepared a court for her entertainment. The effects of which were not agreeable; some condemned the Marquis whilst others deplored his wife's misfortunes. Some were transported with the gallant youth and comely virgin that came along with the Dutchess, the latter of whom it was reported the Marquis was going to marry; nor did the Duke nor Princess know themselves to be the Children of the Marquis, but appeared as strangers designed to be at this new Marriage.

The next morning after their arrival he sent a messenger for Grissel bidding her come and speak with him just in the dress she then was; upon which she immediately waited upon her Lord. At her appearance he was somewhat abashed, but recovering his spirits he thus addressed her:

Grissel, the Lady with whom I must marry will be here to-morrow by this time, and the feast is prepared according—Now, because there is none so well acquainted with the secrets of my palace and disposition of myself but you, I would have you, for all this base attire, address your wisdom to the ordering of the business, appointing such officers as are befitting, and disposing of the rooms according to the degrees and estates of the persons. Let the Lady have the privilege of the marriage chamber, and the young Lord the pleasure of the gallery. Let the wines be plentiful, and the ceremonies be maintained—In a word, let nothing be wanting which may set forth my honour and delight the people.

My Lord, said she, I ever told you, That I took pleasure in nothing but your Contentment, and in whatsoever might conform to your delight. Herein consisted my joy and happiness, therefore make no question of my diligence and duty in this or anything you shall please to impose upon me. And so, like a poor servant she presently addressed herself to the business of the house performing all things with such dispatch and quickness that each one wondered at her goodness and fair demeanor; and many murmured to see her put to such a trial. But the day of entertainment being come, and when the fair lady approached, she looked exceeding beautiful, insomuch that some began not to blame the Marquis for his change. At length Grissel, taking the lady by the hand, thus addressed her: Lady, if it were not his pleasure, that may command, to bid you welcome, yet methinks there is a kind of over ruling grace from nature in you, which must extort a respect unto you.—And as for you young Lord, I can say no more, but if I might have my desires, they should be employed to wish you well—To the rest I afford all that is fit for entertainment, hoping they will excuse whatever they see amiss. And so conducted them to their several apartments, where they agreeably reposed themselves till it was dinner time. When all things were thus prepared, the Marquis sent for his Grissel, and standing up, took her by the hand, and thus expressed himself to her:

You see the Lady is here I mean to marry, and the Company assembled to witness it; are you therefore contented I shall thus dispose of myself? and do you submit quietly to the alteration?

My Lord, replied she, before them all, in what as a woman I might be found faulty, I will not now dispute; but because I am your wife, and have devoted myself to obedience, I am resolved to delight myself in your pleasure; so, if this match be designed for your good, I am satisfied and more than much contented. And as for your lady, I wish her the delights of marriage, the honour of her husband, many years happiness, and the fruits of true and chaste wedlock—Only, great Lord, take care of one thing, That you try not your new bride, as you did your old wife; for she is young, and perhaps wants the patience which poor I have endured.

Till this he held out bravely, but now could not forbear bursting into tears, and all the company wondered at it; but the next Chapter will happily conclude the whole Story.

Chap. 7.
The Marquis's Speech to his Wife and the Discovery
of the Children.

After the Marquis had recovered himself, he thus addressed his patient wife Grissel:—Thou Wonder of Women, and Champion of true Virtue! I am ashamed of my imperfections, and tired with abusing thee; I have tried thee beyond all modesty.—Believe me therefore, I will have no wife but thyself, and therefore seeing I have used you so unkindly heretofore, I protest never to disquiet thee any more; and wherein my cruelty extended against thee in bereaving thee of thy Children, my love shall now make amends in restoring thee thy son and daughter; for this my new bride is she, and this young Lord, her brother. Thank this good Lady my sister for the bringing them up; and this man, you know him well enough, for his secrecy. I have related the truth, and will confirm it with my honour and this kiss; only sit down till the dinner is come, and then bid the company welcome even in this poor array.

The Marquis thus tenderly treating her, and discovering who the young Lord and Lady was, gave the Nobility a fresh opportunity to shew their obedience; the which they immediately did to all three; and the dinner being over, none was so ready to attire Grissel, as her daughter, who was more glad than disappointed by this so sudden a change—Janicola was sent for to Court, and ever afterwards he was the Marquis's counsellor. The servant was also well rewarded for his fidelity; and the Dutchess returned to her palace, leaving her brother and sister to reign in peace.—In length of time the Marquis died, and Grissel lived thirty three years after him, and then died in a good old age; being a pattern for all women after, who might have their virtue or patience tried in the like, or other manner, not to distrust an all wise Providence, who, when he seemeth most to frown, oftentimes is about blessing his creatures with the Sunshine of prosperity.—On the other hand her example should teach us Content, though in meek and abject circumstances; considering it is not the pleasure of the Divine Will to bless all people alike with affluence.

FINIS.


The Pleasant and Delightful
HISTORY
OF
JACK AND THE GIANTS


Part the first


Nottingham
Printed for the Running Stationers.

The Second Part of
JACK and the GIANTS
GIVING

A full Account of his Victorious Conquests over the North Country Giants; destroying the inchanted Castle kept by Galligantus; dispers'd the fiery Griffins; put the Conjuror to Flight; and released not only many Knights and Ladies, but likewise a Duke's Daughter, to whom he was honourably married.

Newcastle: Printed and Sold by J. White. 1711

THE
HISTORY
OF
JACK and the GIANTS

Printed and Sold in Aldermary Church
Yard. Bow Lane. London

The origin of this romance is undoubtedly Northern.

The Edda of Snorro contains a similar story to that of the Welsh Giant. Thor and the giant Skrimner were travelling together, and when they slept, Skrimner substituted a rock, as Jack did a billet, for his person. Thor smote it with his mighty hammer, and the giant asked whether a leaf had fallen from a tree. Again he smote, and this time the giant suggested an acorn had fallen. Yet still one mightier blow than all, but the provoking Skrimner thought it was only some moss fallen on his face.

Also in the second relation of Ssidi Kur, a Calmuck romance, the wonderful shoes of swiftness are to be found.[*]

This romance used to be a never-failing source of delight to children, but a long version of it is now seldom found. The Chap-books give two parts, and all agree in their story. The date is laid in King Arthur's time, and Jack was the son of a wealthy farmer near Land's End in Cornwall, and he was of great strength and extremely subtle. The country at that time seems to have been under the terrorism of a race of giants, and Jack's mission was their destruction. For the greater part, as we shall see, they were a very simple and foolish race, very ferocious, but with no brains, and they fell an easy prey to the astute Jack. He tried his 'prentice hand on a fine specimen, the Giant Cormoran, eighteen feet high and three yards in circumference, who dwelt on the Mount of Cornwall. Jack's preparations were simple. He took a horn, a pickaxe, and a shovel, and with the two latter dug a pit twenty-two feet deep, and covered it over; then he blew his horn. The Giant came out and fell into the pit, when Jack killed him with his axe (Plates Nos. 1 and 2). This earned him his sobriquet of the Giant-Killer. The Giant Blunderbore, hearing of this feat, vowed vengeance, and meeting Jack in a lonely part of Wales, he carried him on his shoulders to his castle, locked him in an upper room, and started off to invite a brother giant to supper. But, alas for the blindness of these huge dunderheads! two strong cords had been left most imprudently in Jack's room, in which he made running nooses, and, as the giants were unlocking the gates, he threw the ropes over their heads and strangled them, cut off their heads, and delivered their captives.

In Flintshire he met with an abnormal specimen, a giant with two heads; and, as perhaps they were "better than one," this giant was crafty, pretended friendship, and took Jack home with him to sleep. Luckily for Jack, the giant had a bad habit of soliloquy, and he overheard him say—

"Tho' here you lodge with me this night,

You shall not see the morning's light.

My club shall dash your brains out quite."

"Forewarned is forearmed;" so Jack substituted a billet of wood for himself, which the giant duly belaboured, and, being utterly astounded at seeing Jack alive and well in the morning, asked him how he slept—whether he had been disturbed? "No," said the self-possessed Jack; "a rat gave me three or four flaps with his tail."

Crafty Jack, however, made the foolish giant destroy himself, as follows:—"Soon after the Giant went to breakfast on a great bowl of hasty pudding, giving Jack but little quantity; who being loath to let him know he could not eat with him, got a leather bag, putting it artfully under his coat, into which he put his pudding, telling the Giant he would shew him a trick; so taking a large knife he ripped open the bag which the Giant thought to be his belly, and out came the hasty pudding; which the Welsh Giant seeing, cried out, Cot's plut, hur can do that hurself; and taking up the knife he ripped open his belly from top to bottom, and out dropped his tripes and trullibubs, so that he immediately fell down dead."

King Arthur's son was travelling about, and meeting with Jack, they joined company. The prince seems to have been too lavish with his money, and soon was in want. Jack then proposed they should sup and sleep at the house of a three-headed giant, who rather prided himself upon his fighting qualities. Stratagem succeeded; Jack made the giant believe that the prince was coming with a thousand men to destroy him, and the human Cerberus (who, although he was a match for five hundred, did not dare to overweight himself with double that number) begged Jack to bolt and bar him in a vault till the prince had gone. Jack and the prince ate and drank of the best, slept well, and in the morning took the giant's cash. When the prince was well on his way, Jack let the big stupid lubber out, and he out of gratitude gave his preserver a coat which would render him invisible, a cap which would furnish him with knowledge, a miraculously sharp sword, and shoes of incredible swiftness.[†] Jack took them and followed the prince, whose life he afterwards saved, and, besides, made himself useful in casting an evil spirit out of a lad.

In the Second Part Jack turns professional giant-slaughterer, and of course these overgrown simpletons had no chance against Jack's magic paraphernalia. They had to give up their prisoners (Plate 4); they were cut in pieces without seeing their assailant (Plate 3); their very weight sometimes proved their destruction—notably one Thundel, who will always live in memory as the talented author of

"Fe, fa, fum

I smell the blood of an Englishman,

Be he alive, or be he dead,

I'll grind his bones to make me bread."

This Thundel was beguiled on to a drawbridge, which broke with his weight (see frontispiece, Newcastle edition), and, floundering in the moat, fell an easy prey. But Jack's supreme effort was masterly, and well rewarded him. A hermit told him of a giant, one Galligantus, who lived in an enchanted castle, in which, by the aid of a conjuror and two fiery dragons, he had imprisoned a duke's daughter, transforming her into a deer. Could Jack resist this charming adventure? Impossible. Clad in his invisible coat, he got into the castle, found that the way to break the enchantment was to blow a certain trumpet, did so—an act which had the effect of temporarily depriving the giant and sorcerer of their presence of mind, a fact which Jack took advantage of by decapitating Galligantus; at which sight the conjuror mounted in the air, and disappeared in a whirlwind. The two dragons, considering these proceedings equivalent to a notice of ejectment, promptly took their departure; whilst a quantity of beasts and birds resumed their former shapes of knights and ladies, and the castle vanished.

Needless to say, King Arthur prevailed on the duke to reward Jack with his daughter's hand, and he himself gave him "plentiful estate;" so there is very little reason to doubt the announcement which closes this veracious history, that "he and his Lady lived the residue of their days in joy and content.

[*] The Chan steals a pair from the Tchadkurrs, or evil spirits, by means of a cap which made him invisible, which he won from some quarrelling children whom he met in a forest.

[†] To show the northern origin of this tale, it is only necessary to point out that the coat is identical with the magic garment known in ancient German as the "Nebel Kappe," or cloud cloak, fabled to belong to King Alberich and the other dwarfs of the Teutonic Cycle of Romance, who, clad therein, could walk invisible. To them also belongs the "Tarn hut," or Hat of Darkness. Velent, the smith of the Edda of Sæmund, forged a "Sword of Sharpness," which in the Wilkina Saga is called Balmung. It was so sharp that when Velent cleft his rival Æmilius, it merely seemed to the latter like cold water running down him. "Shake thyself," said Velent. He did so, and fell in two halves, one on each side of the chair. The Shoes of Swiftness were worn by Loke when he escaped from Valhalla.


A pleasant and delightful
HISTORY
OF
Thomas Hickathrift

Newcastle, Printed by and for M. Angus and Son, in the Side—

Where is always kept on Sale, a choice and extensive Assortment of Histories,
Songs, Children's Story Books, School Books &c &c.

This worthy does not seem to have been an absolute myth, if we can trust Sir Henry Spelman, who in his "Icenia sive Norfolciæ Descriptio Topographica," p. 138, speaking of Tilney in Marshland Hundred, says, "Hic se expandit insignis area, quæ à planitie nuncupatur Tylney-smeeth, pinguis adeo & luxurians ut Padua pascua videatur superasse.... Tuentur eum indigenæ velut Aras and Focos, fabellamque recitant longa petitam vetustate de Hikifrico (nescio quo,) Haii illius instar in Scotorum Chronicis, qui Civium suorum dedignatus fugam, Aratrum quod agebat, solvit; arrepto que Temone furibundus insiliit in hostes, victoriamque ademit exultantibus. Sic cum de agri istius finibus acriter olim dimicatum esset inter fundi Dominum et Villarum Incolas, nec valerent hi adversus eum consistere; cedentibus occurrit Hikifricus, axem que excutiens a Curru quem agebat, eo vice Gladii usus; Rotâ, Clypei; invasores repulit ad ipsos quibus nunc funguntur terminos. Ostendunt in cæmeterio Tilniensi, Sepulcrum sui pugilis, Axem cum Rota insculptum exhibens."

Sir William Dugdale also says, "They to this day shew a large gravestone near the east end of the Chancel in Tilney Churchyard, whereon the form of a Cross is so cut or carved, as that the upper part thereof (wherewith the carver had adorned it) being circular they will therefore have it to be the gravestone of Hickifrick as a memorial of his Courage."

In Chambers's "History of Norfolk," vol. i. p. 492, it says, "The stone coffin which stands out of the ground in Tilney Churchyard, on the north side of the Church, will not receive a person above six feet in length; and this is shewn as belonging formerly to the giant Hickafric. The cross said to be a representation of the cart wheel, is a cross pattée on the head of a staff, which staff is styled an axletree."

THE
HISTORY
OF
THOMAS HICKATHRIFT


Part the First


Printed in Aldermary Church Yard. London

Chap. 1.
Tom's Birth and Parentage.

In the reign of William the Conqueror I have read in antient records, there lived in the Isle of Ely in Cambridgeshire, a man named Thomas Hickathrift, a poor labourer, yet he was an honest stout man, and able to do as much work in a day as two ordinary men. Having only one Son he called him after his own name Thomas. The old man put his son to School, but he would learn nothing.

God called the old man aside, his Mother being tender of her son, maintained him by her own labour as well as she could; but all his delight was in the chimney corner, and he eat as much at once as would serve five ordinary men. At ten years old he was six feet high and three in thickness, his hand was like a shoulder of mutton, and every other part proportionable; but his great strength was yet unknown.

Chap. 2.
How Tom Hickathrift's great Strength came to be
Known.

Tom's Mother being a poor widow, went to a rich farmer's house, to beg a bundle of straw, to shift herself and her son Thomas. The farmer being an honest charitable man, bid her take what she wanted. She, going home to her son Thomas said, Pray go to such a place and fetch me a bundle of straw; I have asked leave.—He swore he would not go—Nay, prythee go, said his poor old Mother.—Again he swore he would not go, unless she would borrow him a cart rope, she being willing to pleasure him, went and borrowed one.

Then taking the Cart rope, away he went, and coming to the farmer's house, the master was in the barn, and two men threshing.

Tom said, I am come for a burden of Straw. Tom, said the farmer, take as much as thou can'st carry. So he laid down his Cart rope, and began to make up his burden.

Your rope, Tom, said they is too short, and jeered him. But he fitted the farmer well for his joke; for when he had made up his burthen, it was supposed it might be two thousand weight—But says they, what a fool art thou? for thou can'st not carry the tythe of it.—But however he took up his burthen, and made no more of it than we do an hundred pound weight, to the great admiration of master and men.

Now Tom's strength beginning to be known in the town, they would not let him lie basking in the chimney corner, everyone hirting him to work, seeing he had so much strength, all telling him, it was a shame for him to lie idle as he did from day to day; so that Tom finding them bate at him as they did, went first to one work and then to another.

At last a man came to him and desired him to go to the wood to help him to bring a tree home; so Tom went with him and four other men.

And when they came to the wood, they set the cart by the tree, and began to draw it by pullies; but Tom seeing them not able to stir it, said aloud, stand aside fools—And set it on one end, and then put it in to the cart—There, said he, see what a man can do? Marry, said they, that's true.

Having done, and come through the wood they met the woodman, and Tom asked him for a stick to make his mother a fire with.

Aye, said the woodman, take one.

So Tom took up a tree bigger than that on the cart, and put it on his shoulder, and walked home with it faster than the six horses in the cart drew the other.

This was the second instance of Tom's shewing his strength; by which time he began to know that he had more natural strength than twenty common men; and from this time Tom began to grow very tractable; he would jump, run, and take delight in young company, and go to fairs and meetings, to see sports and diversions.

One day going to the wake, where the young men were met, some went to wrestling, and some to cudgels, some to throwing the hammer and the like.

Tom stood awhile to see the sport, and at last he joined the company throwing the hammer; at length he took the hammer in his hand, and felt the weight of it, bidding them stand out of the way, for he would try how far he could throw it—Aye, said the old smith, you will throw it a great way I warrant you—

Tom took the hammer, and giving it a swing, threw it into a river five or six furlongs distant, and bid them fetch it out.

After this Tom joined the wrestlers; and though he had no more skill than an ass, yet by main strength he flung all he grappled with; if once he laid hold, they were gone; some he threw over his head, and others he laid down gently. He did not attempt to lock or strike at their heels, but threw them down two or three yards from him, and sometimes on their heads, ready to break their necks. So that at last none durst enter the ring to wrestle with him; for they took him to be some devil among them.

Chap. 3.
Tom becomes a Brewer's Servant; and of his killing a
Giant, and gaining the Title of Mr. Hickathrift.

Tom's fame being spread, no one durst give him an angry word; for being fool hardy, he cared not what he did; so that those who knew him would not displease him. At last a brewer of Lynn, who wanted a lusty man to carry beer to the Marsh, and to Wisbeach, hearing of Tom, came to hire him; but Tom would not hire himself, until his friends persuaded him, and the master promised him a new suit of cloaths from top to toe, and besides that he should eat and drink of the best. At last Tom consented to be his man, and the master shewed him which way he was to go; for there was a monsterous Giant, who kept part of the Marsh, and none durst go that way; for if the Giant found them, he would either kill them, or make them his slaves.

But to come to Tom and his master; Tom did more in one day than all the rest of his men did in three; so that his master seeing him so tractable, and careful in his business, made him his head man, and trusted him to carry beer by himself, for he needed none to help him; Thus Tom went each day to Wisbeach, which was a long Journey of twenty miles.

Tom going this journey so often, and finding the other road, the Giant kept, nearer by the half, and Tom having encreased his strength by being so well kept, and improved his courage by drinking so much strong ale; one day as he was going to Wisbeach, without saying any thing to his master, or any of his fellow servants, he resolved to make the nearest road, or lose his life; to win the horse, or lose the saddle; to kill or be killed if he met the Giant.

Thus resolved, he goes the nearest way with his cart, flinging open the gates in order to go through; but the Giant soon espied him, and seeing him a daring fellow, vowed to stop his journey, and make a prize of his beer; but Tom cared nothing for him; and the Giant met him like a roaring lion, as though he would have swallowed him.

Sirrah, said he, who gave you authority to come this way? Do you not know that I make all stand in fear of my sight; and you, like an impudent rogue, must come and fling open my gates at pleasure. Are you so careless of your life that you care not what you do? I'll make you an example to all rogues under the sun. Dost thou not see how many heads hang on yonder tree, that have offended my laws? thine shall hang above them all.

Who cares for you, said Tom, you shall not find me like one of them. No, said the Giant, why you are but a fool, if you come to fight me, and bring no weapon to defend yourself. Cries Tom I have got a weapon here shall make you know I am your Master. Aye, say you so, Sirrah, said the Giant, and then ran to his Cave to fetch his Club, intending to dash out his brains at one blow. While the Giant was gone for his club, Tom turned his cart upside down, taking the axle tree and wheel for his sword and buckler, and excellent weapons they was on such an emergence.

The Giant coming out again began to stare at Tom to see him take the wheel in one hand and the axle tree in the other.

Oh! Oh! said the Giant, you are like to do great things with these instruments. I have a twig here that will beat thee and thy axle tree, and thy wheel to the ground. Now that which the giant called a twig was as thick as a millpost; with this the giant made a blow at Tom with such force as made his wheel crack. Tom nothing daunted, gave him as brave a blow on the side of his head, which made him reel again. What, said Tom, are you got drunk with my small beer already? The Giant recovering, made many hard blows at Tom; but still, as they came, he kept them off with his wheel, so that he received but very little hurt.

In the mean time Tom plied him so well with blows, that the sweat and blood ran together down the Giant's face; who being fat and foggy, was almost spent with fighting so long, begged Tom to let him drink, and then he would fight him again. No said Tom, my mother did not teach me such wit; who is fool then? whereupon finding the Giant grow weak, Tom redoubled his blows till he brought him to the ground. The Giant finding himself overcome, roared hediously, and begged Tom to spare his life, and he would perform anything he should desire, even yield himself unto him, and be his servant.

But Tom having no more mercy on him than a bear upon a dog, laid on him till he found him breathless, and then Cut off his head, after which he went into the cave and there found great store of gold and silver, which made his heart leap for Joy.

When he had rumaged the cave and refreshed himself a little, he restored the wheel and axletree to their former places, and loaded his beer on his cart, and went to Wisbeach, where he delivered his beer and returned home the same night as usual.

Upon his return to his master, he told him what he had done, which though he was rejoiced to hear, he could not altogether believe, till he had seen it was true. Next morning Tom's master went with him to the place, to be convinced of the truth; as did most of the inhabitants of Lynn. When they came to the place they were rejoiced to find the giant dead: and when Tom shewed them the head, and what gold and silver there was in the Cave, all of them leaped for joy; for the giant had been a great enemy to that part of the Country.

News was soon spread that Thomas Hickathrift had killed the giant, and happy was he that could come to see the giant's cave; and bonfires were made all round the country for Tom's success.

Tom by the general consent of the country took possession of the giant's cave, and the riches. He pulled down the Cave and built himself a handsome house on the spot. Part of the Giant's lands he gave to the poor for their Common, and the rest he divided and enclosed for an estate, to maintain him and his mother. Now Tom's fame spread more and more thro' the country, and he was no longer called plain Tom but Mr. Hickathrift; and they feared his anger now, almost as much as they did that of the Giant before.

Tom now finding himself very rich, resolved his neighbours should be the better for it; he enclosed himself a park and kept deer; and just by his house he built a church, which he dedicated to St. James, because on that Saint's day he killed the Giant.

Chap. 4.
How Tom kept a Pack of Hounds, and of his being
attacked by four Highwaymen.

Tom not being used to have such a stock of riches could hardly tell how to dispose of it; but he used means to do it; for he kept a pack of hounds and men to hunt them; and who but Tom! he took such delight in sports and exercises, that he would go far and near to a merry meeting.

One day as Tom was riding, he saw a company at Football, and dismounted to see them play for a wager; but he spoiled all their sport, for meeting the football he gave it such a kick that they never found it more; whereupon they began to quarrel with Tom, but some of them got little good by it; for he got a Spar, which belonged to an old house that had been blown down, with which he drove all opposition before him, and made way wherever he came.

After this, going home late in the evening, he was met by four highwaymen well mounted, who had robbed all the passengers that travelled this road. When they saw Tom, and found he was alone, they were cock sure of his money, and bid him stand and deliver—What must I deliver, cries Tom?—Your money, sirrah, says they.—Aye, said Tom, but you shall give me better words for it first, and be better armed too.—Come, come, said they, we came not here to prate, but for your money, and Money we will have before we go. Is it so said Tom, then get it and take it.

Whereupon one of them made at him with a trusty sword, which Tom immediately wrenched out of his hand, and attacked the whole four with it, and made them set spurs to their horses; but seeing one had a portmantua behind him, and supposing it contained money, he more closely pursued them, and cut their journey short, killing two of them, and sadly wounding the other two; who begging hard for their lives, he let them go; but took away all their money, which was above two hundred pounds, to bear his expenses home.

When Tom came home, he told them how he had served the poor football players; and also related his engagement with the four thieves; which produced much laughter amongst the whole company.

Chap. 5.
Tom meets with a Tinker and of the Battle they fought.

Some time afterwards as Tom was walking about his estate, to see how his workmen went on, he met upon the skirts of the forest a very sturdy Tinker, having a good staff on his shoulder, and a great dog to carry his budget of tools. So Tom asked the Tinker from whence he came and whither he was going? as that was no highway. And the Tinker being a very sturdy fellow, bid him go look, what was that to him? but fools must always be meddling—Hold said Tom, before you and I part I will make you know who I am.—Ay—said the Tinker, it is three Years since I had a combat with any man; I have challenged many a one, but none dare face me, so I think they are all cowards in this part of the country; but I hear there is a man hereabouts named Thomas Hickathrift, who killed a Giant; him I'd willingly see to have a bout with.—Aye, said Tom, I am the man, what have you to say to me? Truly said the Tinker, I am glad we are so happily met that we may have one touch—Surely, said Tom, you are but in jest—Marry said the Tinker, I am in earnest—A match, said Tom—It is done, said the Tinker.—But, said Tom, will you give me leave to let me get a twig—Aye, said the Tinker, I hate him that fights with a man unarmed.

So Tom stepped to a gate, and took a rail for a staff. To it they fell, the Tinker at Tom, and Tom at the Tinker like two Giants. The Tinker had a leather coat on, so that every blow Tom gave him made him roar again; yet the Tinker did not give way an inch, till Tom gave him such a bang on the side of the head as felled him to the ground.—Now, Tinker, where art thou? said Tom.—But the Tinker being a nimble fellow leaped up again, and gave Tom a bang, which made him reel, and following his blow took Tom on the other side, which made him throw down his weapon, and yield the Tinker the best of it.

After this Tom took the Tinker home to his house, where we shall leave them to improve their acquaintance, and get themselves cured of the bruises they gave each other.

FINIS.