How did the schoolmaster at St. Albans obtain his types? This is a puzzling question in the present state of palæotypography. Mr. Bradshaw of Cambridge has, by unwearied study of early printed books, thrown great light upon the connection and genealogy of numerous founts used by fifteenth-century printers, and systematic attention to the minute peculiarities of each printer is doubtless the only way in which those old books can be forced to yield up their secrets; but the task is immense, and beyond the powers of any one man to complete. Some day, however, when the palæotypography of this country, as well as of the Continental presses, shall have received that full technical and philosophical analysis which time is sure to bring, the more fortunate bibliographer of the future will be able with certainty to track the footsteps and operations of the early typefounders, and will be enabled to state for certain to what extent Caxton and the St. Albans printer were their own typefounders, and to what extent and to whom they looked for outside help. As the case now stands, we can only confess our ignorance of where the St. Albans types came from.
CHAPTER III.
The Subjects Treated.
In the rude civilisation of the fifteenth century, a year’s experience of which would send most of us to our graves, the mental occupation as well as the bodily recreation of our ancestors was almost confined to hunting and hawking. “Fishing with an Angle” came in as a bad third, being too tame a pursuit for men who were no men if not men of war. Mimic war—war on the beasts of the field and the fowls of the air—war which could be pursued in times of peace, and which yet required knowledge, patience, fortitude, and courage—this had great attractions, and we cannot wonder at the general popularity of these pursuits.
The first treatise in the following reprint is upon Hawking, a pastime essentially aristocratic from the great expense it entailed in the purchase, breeding, and maintenance of the birds. This, indeed, coupled with the diminution of game consequent on the progress of civilisation and the increase of the population, led to the gradual decadence of the sport, and nearly to its extinction in the eighteenth century, although, in very rare cases, falconry is even now practised.
As we have seen, one of the most difficult objects in hawking was to obtain an easy command of the proper vocabulary, and so at first start our author instructs us in “The manner to speak of Hawks, from the egg.” We must not say a young hawk is hatched, but ‘disclosed;’ they do not breed but “eyer;” it was a want of culture in any falconer to say that hawks were building their nest, they “timbered” it. When the young could first leave the nest they were “Bowesses,” and when they could fly they were “Branchers,” and then was the time to catch and train them.
When the young were caught, which was with nets, the first thing was to “ensile” them, that is, to “take a needle and thread and sew up the eyelids,” so that they “see never a dele.” After a night and a day the threads were cut softly for fear of breaking the “lyddis of the ighen,” then they were fed with well-washed flesh, but kept awake the next night and day, after which they were supposed to be tame, or “reclaimed.”
The various diseases to which Hawks are liable are then explained, and medicines prescribed for them. Some of these are very absurd and some contradictory. Then comes a variety of terms for every movement and habit, for every limb or part of the body, and for almost every feather in the plumage. In this minute description the author begins at the feet of the bird and so works upwards, as when “Knyghttis been harnesside.”
Next we are instructed how important it is to be careful of the manner of guiding the Hawk the first time it is ready to “nomme a partridge;” how to reward her by giving her the head and neck, after which on no account is she to fly again till she has “rejoiced,” i.e., sharpened her beak and shaken her feathers. More medicines follow, among which is how to get rid of “lies” (lice). “Take a piece of rough blanket and hold it to the fire till it is quite hot; wrap the hawk therein, and without hurting hold her ‘softely and stylly’ in your hands, and all the vermin will creep into the cloth.” A happy thought this!