“Then he blowed a blast full north, south, east, and west—
Wind well thy horn, good hunter;
And the wild boar then heard him full in his den,
As he was a jovial hunter.
Then he made the best of his speed unto him—
Wind well thy horn, good hunter;
Swift flew the boar, with his tusks smeared with gore,
To Sir Ryalas, the jovial hunter.
Then the wild boar, being so stout and so strong—
Wind well thy horn, good hunter;
Thrashed down the trees as he ramped him along
To Sir Ryalas, the jovial hunter.
Then they fought four hours on a long summer day—
Wind well thy horn, good hunter;
Till the wild boar would fain have got him away
From Sir Ryalas, the jovial hunter.
Then Sir Ryalas he drawed his broad sword with might—
Wind well thy horn, good hunter;
And he fairly cut the boar’s head off quite,
For he was a jovial hunter.”
The countryside rang with the knight’s praise, and the king heard the welcome news. The sovereign, as a reward for his services, made “the jovial hunter,” we are told, “the knight tenant in capite, and constituted his manor paramount of all the manors within the limits and extent of the royal forest of Rookwoode.” The privilege of levying toll on all cattle passing through nine townships was granted to him and his heirs for ever. It was known as the Rhyne Toll, and commenced at midnight on October 29th, and ended at midnight on November 7th annually. Before the commencement of the collection of the toll, a horn was blown, as we have previously stated, with some ceremony. The toll was collected until 1868, when it was given up by Sir George Chetwode, the lord of the manor.
In the Chapter House, at Carlisle, is preserved an interesting relic known as the “Horns of the Altar.” Mr. Frank Buckland inspected it in 1879, and expressed his astonishment at finding it to be a walrus’s skull, without the lower jaw, with tusks about eighteen inches long. The skull itself was marked out with faded colours, so as to somewhat resemble a human skull. Canon Prescott supplied Mr. Buckland with some information about this curious charter horn. He said: “In the year 1290, a claim was made by the King, Edward I., and by others, to the tithes on certain lands lately brought under cultivation in the forest of Inglewood. The Prior of Carlisle appeared on behalf of his convent, and urged their right to the property on the ground that the tithes had been granted to them by a former king, who had enfeoffed them by a certain ivory horn (quoddam cornu eburneum), which he gave to the Church of Carlisle, and which they possessed at that time. The Cathedral of Carlisle has had in its possession for a great number of years two fine walrus tusks, with a portion of the skull. They appear in ancient inventories of goods of the cathedral as ‘one horn of the altar, in two parts,’ or ‘two horns of the altar’ (1674), together with other articles of the altar furniture. But antiquaries come to the conclusion that these were identical with the ‘ivory horn’ referred to above. Communications were made to the Society of Antiquaries (see Archæologia, Vol. III.) and they were called the ‘Carlisle Charter Horns.’ Such charter horns were not uncommon in ancient days. Bishop Lyttleton (1768), in a paper read before the society, said the ‘horns’ were so called improperly, being ‘certainly the teeth of some very large sea fish.’ It is probable that they were presented to the church as an offering, perhaps by some traveller, and used as an ornament to the altar. Such ornaments were frequent, both at the smaller altars and in the churches.”
Mr. Buckland, adverting to the foregoing, says: “I cannot quite understand how a walrus’s skull and teeth came to be considered so valuable as to be promoted to the dignity of a charter horn of a great cathedral like Carlisle. I am afraid Bishop Lyttleton, 1768, was not a naturalist, or he would never have called the tusks of a walrus ‘the teeth of some very large fish.’”
Hungerford, a pretty little town at the extreme west end of the royal county of Berks, has its ancient charter horn, and linked to it are some curious customs. A contributor to a local journal for 1876, states that “the town of Hungerford, Berkshire, enjoys some rare privileges and maintains some quaint customs. The inhabitants have the right of pasturage and of shooting over a large tract of downs and marsh land bequeathed to them by John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, subject to the annual observance of certain customs at this period of the year. They have also the right of fishing for trout in the Kennet, which flows through the borough. Hockney-day and the usual customs have just been observed in their integrity. The old horn, by which the tenure is held, had been blown from the Town Hall, summoning the commoners to their rights, and the tything men, whose duties are unique, have ably fulfilled them. These gentlemen carry long poles, decorated with flowers and garlands, having to call at each house and exact the tribute of a coin from each male, and a kiss from each lady. The High Constable or Mayor, whose office combines the duties of the coroner, is chosen on this day.”
Blowing three blasts on a horn formed part of an old custom at Chingford, Essex. Blount, in his “Tenures of Land,” and the historians of the county, direct attention to the ceremony. The estate of Brindwood’s was held under the following conditions: Upon every alteration, the owner of the estate, with his wife, man servant, and maid servant, each single on a horse, come to the parsonage, where the owner does his homage, and pays his relief in the manner following—he blows three blasts with his horn, carries a hawk on his fist, and his servant has a greyhound in a slip, both for the use of the rector for the day; he receives a chicken for his hawk, a peck of oats for his horse, and a loaf of bread for his greyhound. They all dine, after which the master blows three blasts with his horn, and they all depart. A correspondent to the Gentleman’s Magazine for 1790, gives particulars of this custom being kept up in the days of Queen Elizabeth.
At Bainbridge, the chief place of the forest of Wensleydale, Yorkshire, still lingers an old horn-blowing custom. An instrument known as the forest horn is blown on the green every night at ten o’clock from the first of September to Shrovetide. It is a very large one, and made from the horn of an ox. Its sound on the still night air may be heard for a considerable distance. In bygone ages, horns were blown to enable belated travellers to direct their course over the almost trackless roads to their destinations, and the welcome notes of the horn have saved many a lonely wayfarer from perishing in the snow.
