To Andrew all the lovers and
the lustie wooers come,
Beleeving through his ayde, and
certaine ceremonies done,
(While as to him they presentes bring,
and conjure all the night,)
To have good lucke, and to obtaine
their chiefe and sweete delight.
In an account of the parish of Easling, in Kent, it is related that, “On St. Andrew’s day, November 30, there is yearly a diversion called squirrel-hunting in this and the neighbouring parishes, when the labourers and lower kind of people, assembling together, form a lawless rabble, and being accoutred with guns, poles, clubs, and other such weapons, spend the greatest part of the day in parading through the woods and grounds, with loud shoutings; and, under the pretence of demolishing the squirrels, some few of which they kill, they destroy numbers of hares, pheasants, partridges, and in short whatever comes in their way, breaking down the hedges, and doing much other mischief, and in the evening betaking themselves to the alehouses.”[399]
At Dudingston, distant from Edinburgh a little more than a mile, many opulent citizens resort in the summer months to solace themselves over one of the ancient homely dishes of Scotland, for which the place has been long celebrated, singed sheep’s heads boiled or baked. The frequent use of this solace in that village, is supposed to have arisen from the practice of slaughtering the sheep fed on the neighbouring hill for the market, removing the carcases to town, and leaving the head, &c. to be consumed in the place.[400] Brand adds, that “singed sheep’s heads are borne in the procession before the Scots in London, on St. Andrew’s day.”
There is a marvellous pleasant story in the “Golden Legend,” of a bishop that loved St. Andrew, and worshipped him above all other saints, and remembered him every day, and said prayers in honour of God and St. Andrew, insomuch that the devil spitefully determined to do him mischief. Wherefore, on a certain day, the devil transformed himself “in to the fourme of a ryght fayre woman,” and came to the bishop’s palace, and desired in that “fourme” to confess, as women do. When the bishop was informed of the message, he answered that she should go and confess herself to his “penytauncer,” who had power from him to hear confessions. Thereupon she sent the bishop word, that she would not reveal the secrets of her confession to any but himself; therefore the bishop commanded her to be brought to him. Whereupon, being in his presence, she told him, that her father was a mighty king, who had purposed to give her to a prince in marriage, but that having devoted herself to piety, she refused, and that her father had constrained her so much, that she must either have consented to his will, or suffered divers torments; wherefore she chose to live in exile, and had fled secretly away to the bishop, of whose holy life she had heard, and with whom she now prayed to live in secret contemplation, “and eschewe the evyll perylles of this present lyfe.” Then the bishop marvelled greatly, as well for the nobility of her descent, as for the beauty of her person, and said choose thee an house, “and I wyll that thou dyne with me this daye;” and she answered that evil suspicion might come thereof, and the splendour of his renown be thereby impaired. To this the bishop replied, that there would be many others present, therefore there could be no such suspicion. Then the devil dined with the bishop, who did not know him, but admired him as a fair lady, to whom therefore the bishop paid so much attention, that the devil perceived his advantage, and began to increase in beauty more and more; and more and more the bishop marvelled at the exceeding loveliness before him, and did homage thereto, and conceived greater affection than a bishop should. Then a pilgrim smote at the bishop’s gate, and though he knocked hard they would not open the door; then the pilgrim at the gate knocked louder, and the bishop grew less charitable and more polite, and asked the beautiful creature before him, whether it was her pleasure that the pilgrim should enter; and she desired that a question should be put to the pilgrim, which, if he could answer, he should be received, and if he could not, he should abide without as not worthy to come in. And the company assented thereto, and the bishop said, none of them were so able to propose the question as the lady, because in fair speaking and wisdom, she surpassed them all. Then she required that it should be demanded of the pilgrim, which is the greatest marvel in the smallest space that ever God made? And then the bishop’s messenger propounded the question to the pilgrim, who answered that it was the diversity and excellence of the faces of men, because from the beginning of the world there are not two men whose faces “were lyke, and semblanle in all thynges:” and the company declared that this was a very good answer to the question. Then she said, that to prove the further knowledge of the pilgrim, he ought to be asked what thing of the earth is higher than all the heaven; and the pilgrim answered, the body of Jesus Christ, which is in the imperial heaven, is of earthly flesh, and is more high than all the heaven; and by this answer they were again surprised, and marvellously praised the pilgrim’s wisdom. Then she desired that a third question might be asked of the pilgrim, which if he could answer, then he would be worthy to be received at the bishop’s table; and by her order, the messenger demanded this question of the pilgrim, “What is the distance from the bottomless pit unto the imperial heaven?” and the pilgrim answered, “Go to him that sent thee to me, and ask the question of him, for he can better answer it, because he measured this distance when he fell from heaven into the bottomless pit, and I never measured it:” and when the messenger heard this, he was sore afraid, and fearfully told the pilgrim’s message to the bishop and all the others, who when they heard the same, were also sore afraid. Then forthwith the devil vanished away from before their eyes; and the bishop repented, and sent the messenger to bring in the pilgrim, but he could not be found. So the bishop assembled the people and told them what had happened, and required them to pray that it might be revealed who this pilgrim was, that had delivered him from so great peril: and the same night it was revealed to the bishop, that it was St. Andrew who had put himself into the habit of a pilgrim for the bishop’s deliverance. “Than began the bisshop more and more to have devocyon and remembraunce of saynt Andrewe than he hadde tofore.”
FLORAL DIRECTORY.
Three-coloured Wood Sorrel. Oxalis tricolor.
Dedicated to St. Sapor.