PASSAGE FROM DOVER TO CALAIS.
The charge for conveyance of passengers between Dover and Calais was fixed by a statute made in the fourth year of the reign of Edward III., A.D. 1330, at sixpence for a foot passenger, and two shillings for a man and horse, as may be seen in the following extract from this statute:
"Item. Com avant ces heures homme a cheval soleit aver son passage de la meer a port de Dovre pur ii, s. et homme apee pur vi, d. et ore denovel ont les gardiens de passage et passagers pris plus a grande damage de poeple; Si est accorde que en dit port et touz autres, et auxint en touz les autres passages de la terre, auxibien en ewes douces, come en braz de meer, les passauntz paient desore come ancienement soleint, et de plus ne soient charges, ne les passagers ne gardiens des passages nient plus ne preignent."
Statutes of the Realm, vol. i. p. 262.
"Item. Whereas before this time a horseman was wont to have his passage of the sea at the port of Dover for two shillings, and a man afoot for sixpence, and now of late have the guardians of passage and passagemen taken more, to the great damage of the people; so it is agreed that in the said port and all others, and also in all the other passages of the land, so well in fresh waters as in arms of the sea, the passengers shall pay henceforth as anciently they were wont, and more they shall not be charged, nor shall the passagemen nor guardians of the passages take any more."
The present steam-packet fares between Dover and Calais are, chief-cabin eight shillings, fore-cabin six shillings, and horses twenty-five shillings; i.e. for a man about seven shillings, and for a man and horse about thirty-two shillings.
Hence it would appear, that the value of a shilling was sixteen times greater, five hundred years since, than it is at present. A pound troy of standard silver, from the Conquest to the 28th year of the reign of Edward I., A.D. 1300, was coined into twenty shillings; and from that time to the 23rd of Edward III., A.D. 1349, into twenty shillings and three pence. The standard of silver coin was then 11 oz. 2 dwts. pure silver, and 18 dwts. alloy, as it is at present; but a pound troy of standard silver is now coined into sixty-six shillings. Therefore, without taking into consideration the smaller fractions of a penny, the shilling, from the Conquest to the middle of the reign of Edward III., contained the same quantity of silver as do three shillings and three pence halfpenny of our present money. The sixpence paid by a passenger at the date of the above quoted statute, contained a quantity of silver equal to that contained in one shilling and seven pence three farthings; and the two shillings paid for the passage of a man and horse contained a quantity of silver equal to that contained in six shillings and seven pence of our present coin of the realm.
Hence it appears that, whether it be for a man only, or for a man and horse, we now pay, for a passage between Dover and Calais, nearly five times as much silver as was paid for the same passage five or six hundred years since. It would therefore seem, that the value of silver, measured by this kind of labour, was then nearly five times greater than its value in the present day.
I suspect however that silver was then really worth much more than five times its present value; and in order to arrive at a more correct conclusion, I shall be much obliged to any correspondent of "N. & Q." who will inform me what were the usual fares by sailing-vessels before, or at the time of, the introduction of steam-packets between Dover and Calais.
J. LEWELYN CURTIS.
POPULAR STORIES OF THE ENGLISH PEASANTRY, NO. II.
(Continued from p. 363.)
I am much pleased with MR. STERNBERG'S Oxfordshire version of Die kluge Else (Vol. v., p. 363.). I have heard another in that county, and think the variations may be acceptable to those who are interested in our rather scanty country legends.
An old couple lived in the country on a nice bit of land of their own, and they had an only daughter whose name was Mary, and she had a sweetheart whose name was John. Now there was a garden at the back of their house with a well in it. One day, as the old man was walking in the garden, he thought a thought. He thought, "If John should have Mary, and Mary should have a child, and the child was to go tittle-tottle by the well, and to fall in, what a thing that would be;" so he sat down and cried. A little while after the old woman came into the garden and saw him, and asked him why he cried. And he told her he had thought, "If John should have Mary, and Mary should have a child, and the child should go tittle-tottle by the well, and fall in, what a thing that would be." "So it would," said the old woman; and she sat down and cried.
Mary arrives, hears the thought, and sits down and cries. John finds them crying, and says he will put on a new pair of shoes, and if, by the time they are worn out, he has not found three such big fools, he will save the child's life by not marrying Mary. He puts on the shoes, and sets out early the next morning.
Before he had gone far he came to a barn with the two doors wide open, and saw a man hard at work with a shovel, as if he was a shovelling something into the barn; but there was nothing in the shovel. "What be ye doing of, Measter?" says John. "I be a shovelling the sunshine in to dry the wheat as was carried in the wet." "What a fool ye be!" says John; "why don't you take out the sheaves, and lay 'em in the sun?" "Oh, God bless ye, Sir," says the man; "I wish ye'd come this way afore. Many a hard day's work ye'd a saved me." So John cut a notch in his stick for one fool, and went on.
He went a little further, and came to where a man was cutting at pebbles with a knife. "What be ye at, Measter?" says John. "I be a cutting of the pebbles to get at the kernels," says the man. "What a fool ye be!" says John "why don't ye get a masonter's hammer and split 'em, and then ye'll see whether there be any kernels or no." "Ah, God bless you, Sir," says the man "many a good knife ye'd a saved me if ye'd come this way afore." So John made another notch for the second fool.
The third is drawing a cow up the ladder, to eat the tussock of grass that grows every year in the thatch, and is equally thankful on being advised to cut it down and give it to the cow; for "many a good cow ye'd a saved me that I've throttled, if ye'd come this way afore." So John cut the third notch; and finding that folly was not peculiar to the family, went back and married Mary while his shoes were new. And they lived very happy, and she put a rail round the well, and the child was not drowned.
In this department of history, old women are the highest authorities, and it is desirable to fix their localities as nearly as we can. I heard the story from my nurse, a native of Souldern, Oxon., a village on the borders of Northamptonshire, and from another of Bucknel, fourteen miles north of Oxford.
A version of the Froschkönig is, or was, current in the same neighbourhood.
There was a farmer that had an only daughter; and she was very handsome, but proud. One day, when the servants were all afield, her mother sent her to the well for a pitcher of water. When she had let down the bucket, it was so heavy that she could hardly draw it up again; and she was going to let loose of it, when a voice in the well said, "Hold tight and pull hard, and good luck will come of it at last." So she held tight and pulled hard; and when the bucket came up there was nothing in it but a frog, and the frog said, "Thank you, my dear; I've been a long while in the well, and I'll make a lady of you for getting me out." So when she saw it was only a frog, she took no notice, but filled her pitcher and went home.
Now, when they were at supper, there came a knock at the door, and somebody outside said,—
"Open the door, my dearest sweet one,
And think of the well in the wood;
Where you and I were together, love a keeping,
And think of the well in the wood."
So she looked out of the window, and there was the frog in boots and spurs. So says she, "I sha'n't open the door for a frog." Then says her father, "Open the door to the gentleman. Who knows what it may come to at last?" So she opened the door, and the frog came in. Then says the frog,—
"Set me a chair, my dearest sweet one,
And think," &c.
"I'm sure I sha'n't set a chair; the floor's good enough for a frog." The frog makes many requests, to all of which the lady returns uncivil answers. He asks for beer, and is told "Water is good enough for a frog;" to be put to bed, but "The cistern is good enough for a frog to sleep in." The father, however, insists on her compliance; and even when the frog says, "Cuddle my back, my dearest sweet one," orders her to do so, "For who knows what it may come to at last?" And in the morning, when she woke, she saw by her side the handsomest gentleman that ever was seen, in a scarlet coat and top-boots, with a sword by his side and a gold chain round his neck, and gold rings on his fingers and he married her and made her a lady, and they lived very happy together.
I suspect the scarlet coat and top-boots to be a modern interpolation, the natural product of a sporting neighbourhood. It destroys the unity of costume, as I believe Alderman Sawbridge is the only person recorded as having gone hunting in a gold chain, and with a sword by his side.
Grimm's frog sings,—
"Königstochter, jüngste, mach mir auf,
Weisst du nicht wie gestern du zu mir gesagt
Bei dem kühlen Brunnenwasser?
Königstochter, jüngste, mach mir auf."
There is not much difference in the song, but the moral tone of the German is much higher. The frog restores the princess's golden ball, which has fallen into the well, on her promising to do all those things which he afterwards demands; and the king insists on her compliance, because a promise is sacred, when made even to a frog. Our farmer contradicts his daughter's inclinations to the verge, or perhaps beyond the verge, of decorum, on the speculation of "what it may come to at last." To be sure, if the Oxfordshire version is correct, she gets only a sportsman for a husband.
H. B. C.
U. U. Club.