The basis of this legend of Sir Guy, according to good authorities, belongs to a period previous to the Norman Conquest.
In Chapter IV. we had occasion to refer to the bones of the Dun Cow. In recalling the story, the subject of inn-signs deserves a moment’s notice. The Bull, whether Black, White, or Red, is very popular on tavern sign-boards, but it is a little curious that the Ox is not common, and is, in fact, now becoming rare. The Cow takes the place of the Ox, and is represented as of various colours, Red, White, Brown, Dun, and Spotted. The Wild Bull is met with, to say nothing of the Chained Bull and the Bull and Chain. There is reason to believe that the Ox signs formerly held a more favoured position. In nursery rhymes, the animal was certainly prominent. The cow that jumped over the moon has its fellow in the childish jingles of other lands besides ours. There is also a German counterpart of the bull who tolled the bell when pussy was drowned, for in a twelfth century manuscript the bull is made to read the Gospel over the dead body of the wolf[1352]. The tradition that oxen talk in their stalls on Christmas night is old, but is probably post-Christian—there being no likely pagan basis for the story.
We may conclude with a notice of a pleasant custom, once common—the giving of pet names to oxen and cows. Richard Carew (1769) states that Cornish folk were much addicted to the practice: “Each Oxe hath his severall name, upon which the drivers call aloud, both to direct and give them courage as they are at worke[1353].” With dairy cows the nomenclature was quite as diversified. Excluding the “fancy names” of the breeder’s herdbook, we find such appellations as Whytelocke (in a will c. A.D. 1546); Fyll Kytt (A.D. 1551); Cherry and Cherrye (in wills, A.D. 1546, 1585); Shakespeare (A.D. 1793); Fill Bowl and Fill Pan (A.D. 1809)[1354]. Such names as Daisy, Damsel, Grizzle and Straighthorn are representative of old Hampshire[1355]. Then there are the names made familiar to us in literature, for example, “Jetty,” “Lightfoot,” and “Whitefoot,” of Jean Ingelow, “Brockie” and “Gowans” of Sir Walter Scott[1356]. Pet names are still given to milch cows, as Mr Edward Thomas has observed in his South Country. Monotonously, persuasively, the cowboy calls, in turn, to such cows as linger to crop the roadside sward: “Wo, Cherry! Now, Dolly! Wo, Fancy! Strawberry! Blanche!” and so on, throughout a pleasant roll-call[1357].
But now that the ox no longer drags his burden along the dusty turnpike, he receives no nickname. He is merely merchandise—the subject of transactions between the butcher and the grazier. Not the least lamentable feature in his history is the fact that no one remembers, or cares to remember, his social services in the past. Knowledge of the ox as a toiler of the field has all but departed, and, with oblivion, kindliness perchance has diminished. “Thou shalt not muzzle the ox when he treadeth out the corn[1358],” said the Mosaic law. Nowadays, one hears of Societies whose work, imperatively necessary, consists in watching, with friendly eye, the interests of dumb, driven cattle. It is a little doubtful whether any hardships connected with the use of draught oxen ever exceeded, or equalled, the cruelty which is oftentimes, if reports be true, associated with the lives of fatted kine.
CHAPTER XII
RETROSPECT
We are now in a position to see whither the lines of our inquiries converge, and to draw a few general conclusions. Since each chapter has been provided with its own summary, the retrospect will not detain us long.
We began by reviewing the facts with regard to the existence of Christian churches on ancient pagan sites. It was soon discovered that the chief testimony was afforded by tangible relics. These objects comprise, on the one hand, rude stone monuments, ancient burial mounds, prehistoric earthworks, and sacred wells, existing in close association with parish churches; and, on the other, of scraps of treasure-trove, such as bones, urns, coins, and implements, thrown up by the spade. The material relics, it is true, did not complete the evidence. A little was learned from place-names, and more, perhaps, from folk-stories concerning the deeds of fairies and witches, giants and demons, who baulked the efforts of the early builders. These traditions, widespread and genuinely spontaneous, are—in whatever way we may choose to explain and interpret them—valuable records of true folk-memory. Our general verdict respecting the sites was that, in many instances, they were originally of pagan selection, although no existing building can be produced which exhibits, as a structure, undoubted continuity from the days of heathendom.
From the site we went on to consider the church fabric. It was seen that some of the earliest churches were raised during periods when the community thought it wise to plan buildings adapted both for defence and worship. The truth of this proposition will, by most students, be deemed to have been satisfactorily proved. The part of the building specially designed for protection was the steeple, which was frequently, by turns, conning tower, beacon, treasure-chamber, and fortress. Touching this ancient use, folk-tales have the true ring.
As the centuries passed away, defensive towers became unnecessary, yet the idea survived in slight architectural features, now meaningless, unless interpreted by the light of history. The nave, however, continued to have its social value for several hundred years. Partly owing to the Reformation of the sixteenth century, partly in consequence of the pressure of population and the subsequent provision of more suitable buildings for secular purposes, even the nave was at last forbidden to the trader and the religious dramatist. Only a few trivial vestiges, such as the affixing of public notices on the church door, remain to tell of the old latitude given to customs, almost all traces of which have vanished from the memory of the common folk. We must except from this oblivion the village chatter about Cromwell’s soldiers stabling their horses in the nave, the gossip about dog-whippers and dicing, and the numerous bits of scandal coming down from the less creditable periods of church history. All of these stories possess a germ of reality. With respect, however, to the current explanations of “lepers’ windows,” squints, “priests’ chambers,” and deflected chancels, there is no direct tradition, these explanations having been obtained from outside sources.
Again, with regard to the orientation of churches, the reasons given by country folk are obviously hearsay presentations of what has been taught by educated persons. We have, it is true, the records of ecclesiological writers to aid us, but these are, unfortunately, rather contradictory. Priest and architect seem to have conspired to keep any actual details of tradition to themselves, supposing, indeed, that any precise canons ever existed. This select corporation may have handed down the theory and the practice, but the rite is now shorn of much ceremonial, and the custom is followed almost blindly. Moreover, modern builders appear to be very careless in their alinements. The staple rudimentary idea of orientation is clearly pagan, and the broad general tradition of sun-alinements must have been well kept during the early centuries of church-building, whether any definite, exact rules as to seasonal alinement were observed or not. If the orientation of modern churches is settled in a somewhat haphazard manner by the builders, and if the primitive idea has become blurred and indefinite, the orientation of graves affords a splendid example of unconscious folk-memory. Not only a sexton, but probably any villager chosen at random, would take into account the East-and-West direction in digging a grave, though he might not be able to assign a reason for his method. The primitive purpose has long since been driven aside by the force of events, and even the symbolists have had to introduce secondary explanations.