“But eremites that inhabit them by the highways,
And in boroughs among brewers, and beg in churches,
All that holy eremites hated and despised,
(As riches, and reverences, and rich men’s alms),
These lollers,[100] latche drawers,[101] lewd eremites,
Covet on the contrary. Nor live holy as eremites,
That lived wild in woods, with bears and lions.
Some had livelihood from their lineage[102] and of no life else;
And some lived by their learning, and the labour of their hands.
Some had foreigners for friends, that their food sent;
And birds brought to some bread, whereby they lived.
All these holy eremites were of high kin,
Forsook land and lordship, and likings of the body.
But these eremites that edify by the highways
Whilome were workmen—webbers, and tailors,
And carter’s knaves, and clerks without grace.
They held a hungry house. And had much want,
Long labour, and light winnings. And at last espied
That lazy fellows in friar’s clothing had fat cheeks.
Forthwith left they their labour, these lewd knaves,
And clothed them in copes as they were clerks,
Or one of some order [of monks or friars], or else prophets [eremites].”
This curious extract from “Piers Ploughman” leads us to notice the localities in which hermitages were situated. Sometimes, no doubt, they were in lonely and retired places among the hills, or hidden in the depths of the forests which then covered so large a portion of the land. On the next page is a very interesting little picture of hermit life, from a MS. Book of Hours, executed for Richard II. (British Museum, Domitian, A. xvii., folio 4 v.) The artist probably intended to represent the old hermits of the Egyptian desert, Piers Ploughman’s—
“Holy eremites,
That lived wild in woods
With bears and lions;”
but, after the custom of mediæval art, he has introduced the scenery, costume, and architecture of his own time. Erase the bears, which stand for the whole tribe of outlandish beasts, and we have a very pretty bit of English mountain scenery. The stags are characteristic enough of the scenery of mediæval England. The hermitage on the right seems to be of the ruder sort, made in part of wattled work. On the left we have the more usual hermitage of stone, with its little chapel bell in a bell-cot on the gable. The venerable old hermit, coming out of the doorway, is a charming illustration of the typical hermit, with his venerable beard, and his form bowed by age, leaning with one hand on his cross-staff, and carrying his rosary in the other. The hermit in the illustration hereafter given from the “History of Launcelot,” on page 114, leans on a similar staff; it would seem as if such a staff was a usual part of the hermit’s equipment.[103] The hermit in Albert Dürer’s “St. Christopher.” already mentioned, also leans on a staff, but of rather different shape. Here is a companion-picture, in pen and ink, from the “Morte d’Arthur:”—“Then he departed from the cross and an hermit therein, which was going to mass. And then Sir Launcelot kneeled down upon both his knees, and cried out, ‘Lord, mercy!’ for his wicked works that he had done. So when mass was done, Sir Launcelot called the hermit to him, and prayed him for charity to hear his confession. ‘With a good will,’ said the good man.”
Hermits and Hermitages.
But many of the hermitages were erected along the great highways of the country, and especially at bridges and fords,[104] apparently with the express view of their being serviceable to travellers. One of the hermit-saints set up as a pattern for their imitation was St. Julian, who, with his wife, devoted his property and life to showing hospitality to travellers; and the hermit who is always associated in the legends and pictures with St. Christopher, is represented as holding out his torch or lantern to light the giant ferryman, as he transports his passengers across the dangerous ford by which the hermitage was built. When hostelries, where the traveller could command entertainment for hire, were to be found only in the great towns, the religious houses were the chief resting-places of the traveller; not only the conventual establishments, but the country clergy also were expected to be given to hospitality.[105] But both monasteries and country parsonages often lay at a distance of miles of miry and intricate by-road off the highway. We must picture this state of the country and of society to ourselves, before we can appreciate the intentions of those who founded these hospitable establishments; we must try to imagine ourselves travellers, getting belated in a dreary part of the road, where it ran over a bleak wold, or dived through a dark forest, or approached an unknown ford, before we can appreciate the gratitude of those who suddenly caught the light from the hermit’s window, or heard the faint tinkle of his chapel bell ringing for vespers.
Such incidents occur frequently in the romances. Here is an example:—“Sir Launcelot rode all that day and all that night in a forest; and at the last, he was ware of an hermitage and a chapel that stood between two cliffs; and then he heard a little bell ring to mass, and thither he rode, and alighted, and tied his horse to the gate, and heard mass.” Again: “Sir Gawayne rode till he came to an hermitage, and there he found the good man saying his even-song of our Lady. And there Sir Gawayne asked harbour for charity, and the good man granted it him gladly.”
We shall, perhaps, most outrage the popular idea of a hermit, when we assert that hermits sometimes lived in towns. The extract from “Piers Ploughman’s Vision,” already quoted, tells us of—
“Eremites that inhabit them
In boroughs among brewers.”