*■-.-: i;V.-^ ■■ '.'■ '• : - ' •'■■. -'•:■'■ '■■'. -'-■'■.. '%. y. '-•: .« y r % ty of California! 3rn Regional ^ry Facility THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES IN MEMORY OF EDWIN CORLE PRESENTED BY JEAN CORLE I ■ m H . i* .--it- 1 1 ji-'^'ju-i i \ ■ fed* ■ - Q CO THE CHANCES OF DEATH AND OTHER STUDIES IN EVOLUTION BY KARL PEARSON, M.A., F.R.S. I'ROFESSOR OF APPLIED MATHEMATICS IN UNIVERSITY COLLEGE, LONDON, AND FORMERLY FELLOW OF KING'S COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE WITH ILLUSTRATIONS IN TWO VOLUMES VOL. II EDWARD ARNOLD $3ublisljcr to tfje Enota ©fficc LONDON NEW YORK 37 BEDFORD STREET 70 FIFTH AVENUE 1897 CONTENTS OF VOLUME II ArpENDix I. The Mailchn and Kiltgang „ II. English Sixteenth-Century Church-Plays „ III. On the Sex-significance of ' Tilth' „ IV. On Gerieht and Genossenschaft PAGE 9. Woman as Witch — Evidences of Mother -Right in the Customs of Medleyal Witchcraft . . .1 10. Ashiepattle : or Hans seeks his Luck . . .51 11. Kindred Group-Marriage — Part I. — Mother-Age Civilisation . . .92 II. — General Words for Sex and Kinship . 112 „ III. — Special Words for Sex and Relationship . 191 12. The German Passion-Play : A Study in the Evolution of Western Christianity — 1. Introductory 2. The Unity of the Passion-Play 3. The Spirit of the Passion-Play 4. The Growth of the Passion-Play 5. The Stage and its Accessories 6. Characterisation in the Passion-Play . 7. The Performers in the great Folk Passion-Plays 8. The Contents of a Sixteenth-Century Passion-Play 9. Summary and Conclusion 246 256 269 279 315 334 364 370 397 407 413 424 426 Index I. Words and Roots cited in Essay XL and Appendices I., III., and IV. .... 433 „ II. Names and Subjects, Volumes I. and II. . 447 2037504 ILLUSTRATIONS IN VOLUME II PAGE Gods of the Middle Ages. Stephan Lochner's ' Doomsday : Frontispiece Preparation for Witches' Sabbath. Hans Baldung Grien to face 30 "Witch with Spindle, Distaff, and Goat. Albrecht Diirer . 45 Heaven as a Gallery. Master E. S. . . to face 316 Flat Passion-Plat Stage from Donaueschingen . . 320 Mediaeval Conception of Jewish Brutality. Albrecht Diirer 347 The Virgin Mary as Local Mother-Goddess. Ostenclorfer . 353 The Magdalen in g audio. Lukas van Leyden . to face 362 Note I have to heartily thank Mr. Robert J. Parker for the fourth and eighth illustrations in this volume, and Miss Alice Lee for the prepara- tion of Index II. IX WOMAN AS WITCH 1 EVIDENCES OF MOTHER-RIGHT IX THE CUSTOMS OF MEDLEVAL WITCHCRAFT Quid turn miraculo est, cum prim tun in notitiam venU? — Pliny. Whex we seek to investigate the origins of such familiar institutions as ownership and matrimony, we rapidly dis- cover that written history is itself the product of a stage of human development long posterior to that of the origins we are curious about. To speak paradoxically, history begins long before history. Vague and often very unreliable traces of it — traditional history — are to be found in the sagas and hero -songs of bards and scalds. But bards and scalds are themselves an out- come of the heroic age — an age of warlike organisation and of petty chieftains, if not of kings ; an age, indeed, when ownership and marriage have already a long his- tory, and are of that patriarchal type which the Bible, if not Maurer or Maine, has made familiar to all of us. This heroic age is, however, a thing but of yesterday— 1 A lecture given in 1891 at the Somerville Club, but not hitherto published. The lecture is here printed substantially as it was delivered, and accordingly no references are given to the very numerous sources whence information has been drawn. VOL. II WOMAN AS WITCH a civilisation in which man, unhandicapped by child- bearing, is the lord of creation, and woman occupies, socially and tribally, a secondary position. Behind this heroic age, long anterior to the beginnings of traditional history, looms from the dimmest past another and wholly different type of civilisation — a type which appears in most respects to have owed its institutions and its victories over nature to the genius of woman rather than to that of man. It is a type, accordingly, in which the influence of woman is far more prominent than it was in the patriarchal age. This period of civilisation has been termed the matriarchate, but to avoid the dogma that it was necessarily and universally a period of woman's rule, I prefer to term it the mother- age, and refer to its customs of ownership and family as Mother-Eight So long as our only history was the history of chronicles and monuments, themselves products of a late stage of human growth, traces of the mother-age must remain few and far between ; such even as crossed the path of the historian were either misinterpreted or attributed to the vagaries of individual tribes or groups. But now, in our own time, when history is becoming scientific, when, to again speak paradoxically, there is such a thing as 'prehistoric history, — to-day, when we study history comparatively, and see in it a growth of folk-customs and social institutions stretching far back before written language and written laws, — to-day we begin to appreciate better these traces of the mother- age. We put together the fossils provided by pre- historic history, what philology, folklore, and archaeology WOMAN AS WITCH have to tell us of a civilisation in which the woman was all-prominent, and the comparison of this fossil civilisa- tion with the habits of semi-civilised races still scattered about the world enables us to draw up the general scheme of a society which preceded the patriarchal, and from which the patriarchate itself sprung. The key- note to this older civilisation was the development of woman's inventive faculty under the stress of child- bearing and child-rearing disabilities. The mother-age — in diverse forms, it is true, — has been a stage of social growth for probably all branches of the human race. The broad outlines of it seem to me to be now firmly established, if the details must obviously, owing to difference of climate, period of development, and other circumstances, be diverse in character, and if the more minute features, owing to the obscurity and failure of the record, must often be matter of hypothesis and subject for dispute. The mother-age, with its mother-right customs, was a civilisation, as I have indicated, largely built up by woman's activity, and developed by her skill ; it was an age within the small social unit of which there was more community of interest, far more fellowship in labour and partnership in property and sex, than we find in the larger social unit of to-day. For this reason both socialists and workers for the emancipation of women are apt at the present time to look back to this early stage of civilisation as to a golden age, and to paint in its details in colours which render them untrue to fact, and destroy any suggestiveness they might otherwise have for the future growth of our own society. The mother- WOMAN AS WITCH age was frequently cruel in its rites and licentious in its customs, and these charges are still true if we judge it not by the standards of to-day, but by that of the patri- archate which succeeded it. It was a less efficient and a less stable social system than the latter, or it would not have perished in the struggle with it. 1 I for one rejoice that it perished, as I rejoice that the patriarchal system perished, or that the individualism of to-day is perishing. One and all have been fruitful as successive stages of growth, yet they can never recur, and only the fanatic or visionary could w T ish that they should recur, for each is narrow and insufficient from the stand- point of a later stage. Yet insight into what has been is of special value to us to-day ; it shows us that morality and social institutions are peculiar to each age and to each civilisation ; it shows us that growth, if never very rapid, is ever continuous. It teaches us that those who prate of absolute good and bad, and of an unchanging moral code, may help to police an existing society, but that they cannot reform it. To successfully initiate reform needs the historical spirit — the conception that social institutions, however time-honoured and sacred, have but relative value, and are ever adjusting them- selves, as well as freely adjustable, to the needs of social growth. But it is not only a true estimate of the plastic character of customs and social systems which 1 If the reader will put aside for a time the classical and biblical impres- sions of childhood, and recognise in Romans and Jews two early races who came victorious out of the struggle for existence because they were patriarchal varia- tions amid a widespread mother-right civilisation, he will find immense pleasure in reinterpreting the legends of early Roman history with its struggles of patri- cians and plebeians, as well as in fully grasping for the first time the exact historical bearing of the Jewish backslidings, which led to the worship of the golden calf and the adoration of the woman in scarlet. WOMAN AS WITCH may be formed from a study of prehistoric civilisation. Our age, which is working for scarcely yet formulated changes in the owmership of property and in the status of woman, must gain special insight from the study of a period, however far back in a semi-barbaric past, how- ever incapable of future repetition, which yet to a great extent realised, albeit on a narrow stage, what many to- day would without qualification term socialism and the emancipation of women. To have said so much is to have amply justified a study of the mother-age. In a brief and necessarily insufficient paper, such as the present must be, several courses were open to me. In the first place, I might have given you in outline a sketch of what I conceive the old mother-age to have been like, and perhaps pointed out the general stages of its development, for it embraces not a single but many phases of civilisation. Had I done so, however, I should have been asking you to take a very great deal on faith ; I should have been appealing for that faith to your emotional side as women, to your partisan spirit, or to your belief that I should not speak without having my evidence pigeon-holed somewhere. Now, such an appeal to faith is contrary to my whole theory of the manner in which knowledge ought to be gained and opinion formed. The only true road to knowledge and the re- sulting conviction lies through doubt and scepticism, and any general sketch I might have given could at best only legitimately serve to stimulate doubt, and to incite others to undertake for themselves the collection and interpretation of facts. The second course open to me would have been to overwhelm you with the most WOMAN AS WITCH telling facts in favour of my theory, i.e. that most of the work of early civilisation was due to women. To have clone this, however, would not only have been to deprive some of you of the pleasure of discovering these facts for yourselves ; it would have failed also to indicate how much of interest can be extracted from a more detailed investigation of a comparatively narrow field — a field which we can all enter without either unlocking or jumping over the five-barred gate of philology. I pur- pose therefore to lay before you to-night no general sketch, no mass of evidence, but simply to discuss a few of the phases of mediaeval witchcraft which seem to me fossils of the old mother-age. I shall have done more than I can reasonably hope for if I shall succeed in con- vincing you that witchcraft was not a mere fantastic and brutal imagination of a superstitious age, that its beliefs and practices were more or less perverted rites and customs of a prehistoric civilisation, and that the confessions wrung from poor old women in the torture chambers of the Middle Ages have a real scientific value for the historian of a much earlier social life. I hold that the folk-habits and family customs of the mother- age remained as obscure traditions in the women of the folk ; that they were surrendered, in what at first sight seems perfectly futile suffering, to form an apparently worthless record of human stupidity and religious cruelty. Yet from another standpoint this record, and therefore the suffering, will not have been without avail, if they can provide any facts which may assist us in understanding the growth of human societies, and which may at the same time help us to estimate more justly WOMAN AS WITCH the real contributions of woman to early civilisation. As we have seen, nothing is more helpful to us in endeavouring to measure the social forces at work to- day than a true conception of the plastic character of social institutions when we examine their growth during long periods. That the status of woman varies with both time and place is an invaluable concept at the present juncture, and the woman of to-day will owe a debt of gratitude to the mediaeval witch if it can be shown that the record of her suffering furnishes facts which go a long way to demonstrate that primitive woman had a status widely divergent from that of woman in the present or in the patriarchal age. In order to group my facts, I am going to briefly sketch a form of social life which you will kindly look upon as merely hypothetical. If in our inquiries as to witchcraft we find customs which appear meaningless except as fossils of such a state of society, then I think, while still looking upon it as hypothetical, we may venture to consider its further investigation a reason- able task. Finally, if those of you who pursue the matter for yourselves, should find exactly similar fossils in early language, in the folklore of birth and marriage, in primitive law, in hero-legend and saga, and in the customs of still extant barbarous peoples, — fossils which no other hypothesis unites into a living whole — then, I think, the hypothetical mother - age will become for some of you what it is for me, an historical fact. Let us try to conceive a group of individuals in which inheritance is through the mother, where the WOMAN AS WITCH husband and father in the earliest stages are probably not individualised, and where even, in the later stages, they have no position whatever as husband or father in the wife's or child's group ; where the relationship of father and child conveys no inheritance from the one to the other, and is associated with no rights. The closest male relations of the woman are her son and her brother, and she is the conduit by which property passes to and from them. The child's position and its group -rights are entirely determined by its mother, and the maternal uncle is the natural male friend and protector of the child. Such a law of inheritance may be briefly sum- marised as r niother - right. It would clearly give a prominent position to the woman in the group. She would be at least the nominal head of the family, the bearer of its traditions, its knowledge, and its religion. Hence we should expect to find that the deities of a mother-right group were female, and that the primitive goddesses were accompanied not by husband but by child or brother. The husband and father being insignificant or entirely absent, there would thus easily arise myths of virgin and child, brother and sister deities. The goddess of the group would naturally be served by a priestess rather than by a priest. The woman as depositary of family custom and tribal lore, the wise- woman, the sibyl, the witch, would hand down to her daughters the knowledge of the religious observances, of the power of herbs, the mother-lore in the mother tongue, possibly also in some form of symbol or rune such as a priestly caste love to enshroud their mysteries in. The symbols of these goddesses would be the WOMAN AS WITCH symbols of woman's work and woman's civilisation, the distaff, the pitchfork, and the broom, not the spear, the axe, and the hammer. Since agriculture in its elements is essentially due to women, hunting and the chase characteristic of men, the emblems of early agriculture would also be closely associated with the primitive goddess. The smaller domestic animals, the goat, the boar, the goose, and the cock and hen, would be con- nected with her worship. The earth, as a symbol of fertility, would be brought into close relationship with the mother deity. She would be a goddess of agri- culture and of child-birth, of reproductivity in the soil, of fecundity in animals, and of fertility in man. Her shrine would be the hearth and fire round which the women spin and weave and cook, or it might be the clearing in the forest, the fructifying stream or well, the hilltop, where originally there was the palisaded dwelling of a group, and where cultivation first ap- peared. The group in such a dwelling would have a common life, common work, and common meals. In particular, the group gatherings would become high festivals, at those lunar and solar changes which mark the seasons and periods of agricultural fruitfulness and animal fertility. Such gatherings, held on the hill- tops, or by ancient trees or springs, would be marked by the performance of religious rites, by the common meal, the choral dance, and in many cases by the ribald song, and by the gross licentiousness which charac- terises the worship of a goddess of fertility. In all these features we should expect to find the women taking an equal, if not a leading part, responsible alike WOMAN AS WITCH for the communism of the kin-group, and for the license and cruelty of its religious rites. Looking at such a hypothetical phase of civilisation as I have sketched above, where, if it had once existed, should we expect to still find fossils of it ? Clearly in the primitive words for relationship and sex, in the folklore of early agriculture ; in the folklore of distaff, of pitchfork, and of broom ; in the myths of primitive female deities ; in the customs of the medi- aeval spinning -room ; in peasant customs at marriage and birth ; in folk-festivals on high holidays, especially spring and harvest feasts, with their faint reflexes in children's games ; in peasant dances and songs ; in early religious ceremonies, whether adopted by primi- tive Christianity, or driven by it into dark corners as witchcraft ; in the sagas of primitive and titanic women, already in the heroic age fossils of an earlier period — such, for instance, as the stories of Clytemnestra and Medea, of Brunhilda and G-udrun. If there be any truth in our hypothesis, not only will fossils be found in these various places, but these fossils themselves will be strangely linked together, and by piecing and compar- ing them it will be possible to reconstruct a whole. We should expect to find related, if not identical, customs in the spinning-room of the Middle Ages and in peasant marriage ceremonies ; in the observances of witchcraft, and in the veneration of local saints in ; May Day celebrations, and in the licentious worship of Walpurg on the Brocken. In order to find examples of these linked fossils let us, in the first place, go back to some primitive WO M AN AS WITCH phases of Germanic witchcraft, and mark in what manner it comes into contact with early Germanic Christianity. We have, in the first place, to note how essentially the ideas of witchcraft and of witches are associated with women; and then to observe that the further we go back into the days of early Christianity and pre- Christianity, the less is the stigma which attaches to the witch. It must be remembered that it was only at the commencement of the fourteenth century that witchcraft was finally associated with heresy, and that these two imputations rolled into one became either a powerful instrument of oppression wielded by an all- powerful Church, or a deadly but often double-edged weapon of revenge in the hands of private individuals. Occasionally, indeed, they served the purpose of a cold- blooded 23olitical expediency. The name witch itself signifies the woman who knows, the wiseacre, and de- notes rather a good than a bad attribute. Indeed, we find the witches themselves termed bonae dominae, the "good dames," and their o-atherino-s the luchim bonae societatis, " the sport of the good company." Even till quite late times we hear of white and black witches — that is, those who work good and bad magic. " Wise men and wise women," writes Cotta, "reputed a kind of good and honest harmles witches or wizards, who by good words, by hallowed herbes, and salves, and other superstitious ceremonies, promise to allay and calme divels, practises of other witches, and the forces of many diseases." The " white "or " blessing witch " revealed mischiefs and removed evils from the bodies of men and 12 WOMAN AS WITCH animals. The witch who, according to the Augsburg tradition, threw off her clothes, mounted a black horse and drove the Huns from before the town, or the witch of Beutelsbach, who led out a bull crowned with flowers in solemn procession to be buried alive, and so cured the cattle plague, must have possessed this friendly character. In such traditions the witch resumes her old position as the wise woman, the medicine woman, the leader of the people, the priestess accompanying the victim to the altar. Such a white witch or folk-leader w T as Joan of Arc. In her trial for sorcery we read that in the neighbourhood of Domfrein was an ancient oak dedicated to a fay — in other words, the sacrificial oak of an old mother-goddess — and by this oak a spring — the goddess's spring, which recurs so often in May Day ceremonies. At this oak by night the witches and evil spirits used to congregate, especially on Thursdays, and dance and sing round it, crowning the oak and spring with garlands of flowers and herbs. According to the extant accounts of the trial, Joan admitted that she knew of this oak and of the ceremonies attached to it. Looking back now, we are not inclined to doubt this ; we see in the oak and well only the sacred spot of an old mother-goddess, and in the ceremonies that went on just the fossils of an old worship — such as may still be found in hundreds of German villages — preserved as peasant customs. The point to be noted is that these customs are precisely those which are attributed to the midnight witch -gatherings. Witch -gatherings and peasant ceremonies are relics of ancient, social, and re- ligious rites which were not only considered at one time WOMAN AS WITCH 13 good, but the performance of which it would have been impious to neglect. We have accordingly to look upon the witch as essentially the degraded form of the old priestess, cunning in the knowledge of herbs and medicine, jealous of the rights of the goddess she serves, and preserving in spells and incantations such wisdom as early civilisa- tion possessed. She is the lineal descendant of the Vola or Sibyl who, in the Edda, is seated in the midst of the assembly of gods, and from whom AVoden himself must inquire his fate. She is also the lineal descendant of the priestesses who, Strabo tells us, stood before the Cimbrian army and read auguries in the blood of their human sacrifices. The witch, like the priestess, is reputed to have power over the weather, nor is the reason far to seek. If we admit, as we must do, that women were the earliest agriculturists, then we under- stand how they must have observed the course of the seasons and the signs of the weather. Their weather-lore was like that of the peasant, who will often startle the town-bred stranger by a promise on the most glorious of mornings of bad weather towards night. The old Chaldean astronomers obtained the reputation of magi- cians, because they had learnt by experience the nine- teen years' cycle of moon and sun, and could predict eclipses. Plutarch tells us that Aganike, daughter of Hegetor of Thessaly, befooled the Thessalonian maidens by using her knowledge of coming eclipses " to draw the moon out of the sky." A weather- wisdom, a power of foreseeing coming changes, is what we have to attri- bute to the old priestesses and woman -agriculturists. 14 WOMAN AS WITCH It was a knowledge which appeared to the folk as magic, and its fossils are to be found in the power attributed to latter-day witches of producing thunder and hail at will. Learned in medicine, cunning in weather, leader of the folk in sacrifice, such appear to be the characteristics of the old priestess as fossilised in the attributes of the mediaeval witch. Let us pursue these ideas further into the ceremonies and symbols of early witchcraft. The equivalent for witch in modern German is Uexe, but in the oldest forms it appears as hagazusa, hagetisse (Swiss hagsch, and our English hag). The hagetisse can, I think, mean nothing else than the woman of the Hag, Hagen, or Gehag — that is, the fenced or staked enclosure. This might mean, and likely enough in later times was used for the grove or sacred Hain of the goddess, but in early times it far more probably referred to the fenced dwelling of a clan or group. 1 This fenced dwelling as home of the group was the seat of its deity, and the transition from the tribal mother to priestess, from fenced dwelling to sacred enclosure, is natural and direct. But the origin of witch in the woman of the Gehag is of considerable interest, for it suggests a male correlative in the Hagestalt, the Stalt, or male servant, fighter, domestic of the Gehag. The Hagestalt is the man who has not his own household, the member of the Gehag group. In the Rheinpfalz it means to-day the man without children, whether he be married or not. Later on it came to be used for the wifeless man, and ultimately in 1 See Essay XI. for a further discussion of the whole subject of the Hag. WOMAN AS WITCH 15 Modern German Hagestolz is used for the confirmed old bachelor. 1 Why should the man of the old Gehag have handed down his name to the confirmed bachelor of to-day ? The gradual changes in the significance of the word are easy to suggest, if we remember that in the mother-age descent was reckoned through the woman, the man was childless, or rather only related in a vague manner either to his sister's children or to all the children of the group. To the men of the patriarchal civilisation the Gehag man was not only childless but wifeless ; the old group - marriage was for them no marriage at all, and the Hagestolz became the con- firmed bachelor. If we halt here for a minute, we see that the German name for witch is carrying us into a new phase of early civilisation, which we shall also find fossilised in witch- craft. Namely, to a group of men and women living in a palisaded dwelling, with a form of marriage totally different from what we call marriage to-day. It was a form of marriage which was a needful step in the growth of civilisation, and therefore moral in its day. But there is little wonder that the early Christian missionaries looked upon it as complete license ; that the hag or woodwoman, with her strange magical powers over weather and cattle and young children, with her mysterious ceremonies at ancient trees, springs, and on hilltops ; that the common meals, night dances, weird and occasionally horrible sacrifices to strange goddesses, that the group rites of marriage and views 1 From the present standpoint it is noteworthy that in many parts of Germany the old local laws gave the property of the Hagestolz on his death, whether he made a will or not, or left blood relatives or not, to the state. 1 6 WOMAN AS WITCH on relationship, were all unholy, licentious, and diaboli- cal in the extreme. What the missionary could he repressed, the more as his church grew in strength ; what he could not repress he adopted or simply left unregarded. Allemania was Christianised by the indi- vidual missionary, and the mother - goddesses became local saints of the Catholic Church. Saxony was Christianised by the edge of the sword, and scarcely a single Saxon goddess has crept into the Koman calendar. What the missionary tried to repress became mediaeval witchcraft ; what he judiciously disregarded survives to this day in peasant weddings and in the folk -festivals at the great changes of season. The licentiousness of witchcraft is not then a merely re- pulsive feature of mediaeval superstition ; it is to be looked upon as a fossil and degraded form of marriage characteristic of a totally different phase of civilisation from our own or from the patriarchal. It marks very clearly the good and bad features of the old mother- age. Let me try and carry you back for a moment to those days when early Christianity met the fragments of the old civilisation, already decaying. When women dancing at night round the sacred trees and wells, torch or candle in hand, when the common meal, the sacrifice, the choral song, had not been stamped as witchcraft, but were characteristic of the great religious fetes of the old worship and the matrimonial rites of the group. The missionary built his church near the old sacred spots, the priestesses of yore — the witches of the coming ao-es — did not cease their rites on that account, Choruses WOMAN AS WITCH i 7 of maidens sinoina the winileod or choral love - sons;, and accompanied by groups of men, invaded the churches and prepared their common meals inside. A statute of St. Boniface, dated 803, forbids choruses of laymen and maidens to sing and feast in the churches. So early as 600 St. Eligius forbids, on the festival of St. John (Mid- summer Day), dancing and capering, and carols and diabolical songs. While even in the ninth century Benedictus Levita must order that, " when the populace come to church, it shall only do there what belongs to the service of God. In very truth, these dances and capers, these disgraceful and lewd songs, must not be performed either in the churchyards or the houses of God, nor in any other place, because they remain from the custom of the heathens." Here in contact with early Christianity we have clearly the chief features of the primitive worship, or of later witchcraft with its prominent place for the priestesses or witches. The old faith has not yet been broken down, and its rites have not yet disappeared into the byways of peasant marriages, folk-festivals, and witchcraft. Shall we take one more oiance at those maidens with their winileod or love - songs, their torchlight dances, and common meal ? Here is a fossil of three or four hundred years later date, which I found, to my great delight, in an old Friesian law-book. After the bridal feast — the relic of the old common group meal — the bride is to be brought to the bridegroom's house at night in the follow T ino- manner : — That this free Friesian woman shall come into the house of the free Friesian man with sound of horns, with VOL. II c WOMAN AS WITCH a company of neighbours, with burning brands and winnasonge. I am quite sure if St. Boniface had met by night such a procession he would have ascribed it to the old pagan worship, while toAlfons de Spina, or a mediaeval inquisitor, it would have been an undoubted witch-gathering. But let us follow the remnants of these old gather- ings round the Christian churches a little further, just to convince ourselves that witchcraft and its observ- ances have their origin in old religious rites belonging to a totally different civilisation to our own. I select only one or two examples of these fossils. In Darmstadt near Hallerstadt the people were in the habit of dancing round the church during the sermon, till, according to tradition, they wore out the deep ditch which surrounds the church. In Scotland, before the Beformation, we hear of ball being played in church. " A ball being brought in, the Dean began a chant suited to Easter Day, and then taking the ball in his left hand commenced a dance to the tune, others of the priests dancing round hand in hand. At intervals the ball was tossed by the Dean to each of the choristers, the organ playing music appro- priate to their various antics, until it was time to give over and retire to take refreshment." This ball-play, 1 with dancing and song followed by refreshment, is singularly characteristic of the old heathen rites — the bride-ball and songs of the German maidens at Easter. Not only were public games at ball played at Easter and Whitsuntide, but ball-money was forced from wed- 1 Compare the Magdalen in gaudio in Essay XII. WOMAN AS WITCH 19 cling parties at the church doors, so that the game is peculiarly associated with high festivals and marriage feasts. We may note, too, the decoration of the churches in Hesse on May Day, and the solemn pro- cession with the Maypole round the church. Remark- able in the same respect is the " playing of the stag," to which reference occurs in a number of penitential books and homilies. Men on New Year's Day clothed themselves in the skin of a stag, with its horns upon their heads, and were accompanied by other men dressed in woman s clothing. In this costume, with licentious songs and drinking, they proceeded to the doors of the churches, where they danced and sung with extraordinary antics. Tacitus, in his Germania, tells us of a priest clothed as a woman, and when men first usurped the office of priestess, there is little doubt that they clothed as women. Hence the men dressed as women who occur in so many Twelfth Day, May Day, and Midsummer Day celebrations, are, I think, fossils of the old priestesses, often occurring with fossils of the old sacrificial animal. The "playing of the stag" at the church doors seems to me, therefore, another relic of the old religious rites accompanied by choral dance and licentious son^. Closely allied to these heathen ceremonies outside the Christian churches is the German peasant Kirch- iveih or Kirmes, a festival supposed to be held in memory of the dedication of a church. But the whole festival is heathen in character. The Kirmes often lasts or lasted three to four days. Its chief feature was the dancing under the linden tree, or round a special WOMAN AS WITCH pole or tree put up for the purpose. There was pro- longed feasting with a special Kirmes soup, Kirmes goose, and flat cakes ; there was drinking of a beer especially brewed doubly strong for the occasion. While Kirmes- freier and Kirmesliebe denote a lover and love which last only three days. Noteworthy is the custom in the Saxon Obererzgebirge of solemnly slaughtering a swine at Kirmes. In the same district musicians, accom- panied by a man in gay woman's clothing, called the Kirmesweib, go about collecting food for a common feast. In Bavaria, as in Saxony, the main features of Kirmes are the same, only perhaps the ceremonies approach still more closely those of May Day. There is dancing round the linden tree or a pole, the choice of two maidens as queens of the fete, the wreaths of flowers, the burial of a sacrifice, in some cases the mock burial of a human being, and the free feast to which all are expected to freely give, and of which all may freely partake. Before leaving the subject of Kirmes, it should be noted that a swine or sow as emblem of fertility is frequently offered to the goddess of fertility. As examples may be cited the boar's head of Freya, the goddess of love, and the sow sacrificed to Ceres, representing the productivity of the earth. One word more before we leave the subject of the relation of the old religious rites to the churches. In the Dunninger Kapelle in Rottweil, and in various other chapels of the same district, offerings are made of brooms, witli in some cases the special hope of curing boils. This offering of the broom is noteworthy, as we shall see that it is especially the symbol of the female WOMAN AS WITCH deities associated with witchcraft. We must turn now to the bearing of all these instances on witchcraft. What I think they have clearly brought out is the fact that the characteristic features of witch-gatherings, the common feast, the choral dance, the sacrifice under the sacred tree, the presiding spirit of woman, are all features of the old heathenism, as marked by cases in which that heathenism has not been repressed, but associated itself with Christian buildings or Christian ceremonies. Before we note the relation of the Wal'purgisriaclit orgies to May Day celebrations, it may be well to meet two objections which may be rising in the minds of some of my hearers. How, they may be questioning, can the choral dances of flower - decked maidens in honour of some mother-goddess be associated with the revels of hags and hideous old witches centrino- round the devil? How, they may further question, can the nightmare fantasies of the Middle Ages have any relation to facts having a real historical basis like the old heathen customs ? I will reply to the second of these questions first, by showing that the midnight gatherings were real even in the sixteenth century and not fantasy at all ; that they insensibly shaded off into the ordinary folk- assemblies such as those on the eve of May Day. Then I will endeavour to prove that the witches were in early times rather young and beautiful than old and haggard ; and lastly, that the witch ceremonials appear to have centred round a female deity, who may have been accompanied in some cases by her son, and that it was due to the influence of Christian demonology that this goddess was first converted into the devil's grand- WOMAN AS WITCH mother or mother, and ultimately the chief functions of the witch's sabbath devolved upon her son, taken to be the devil himself. Perhaps some of the Swabian witch-trials provide us with the most valuable evidence in this matter. In Giinzburg the witches meet on the Sowberg, the Bres- gau witches on the Kandel, a mountain in the Black Forest, and in particular at a stone called the Kandel- stein, probably a trace of an old altar. Here their most skilful piper was the bailiff of Niederwinden. In the Nagolder Wdldle the witches danced on a meadow, while in Oberstdorf they meet at the chapel of the fourteen NotheJfer, saints who assist women in child- birth. This chapel was called the witch's chapel, and evidently had been placed upon the site of an altar to an old mother-goddess. All these points are brought out in the protocols of actual witch -trials. But the Kottenburger witch- trials (1600) give us still further details. We learn from Anna Mauczin that the witch- gatherings were called Hochzeiten, and treated as a type of marriage feast ; we learn from Anna Kegreifen the names of the actual people (including the priest's ser- vant) who came to the dances ; we find on the one hand disappointed or deserted wives and foolish village maidens, on the other village loafers and students from Tubingen, who joined in the midnight dances, and the feasting and drinking beneath the Nunenbaum, or by the well at the upper gate of Rottenburg. The trials bring out clearly enough who came to these witches' sabbaths ; how the usual piper was a well-known shep- herd, but on some occasions one was brought specially from WOMAN AS WITCH Tubingen. Here I will cite a few questions from a con- fession. The supposed witch was asked if she had been at a witch-dance, and replied, "Yes, for she was there initiated as a witch." Who had taken her to it ? " The old shepherd's wife had fetched her, and they had gone with a broom." Did she mean that they had flown through the air on a broom? "Certainly not; they had walked to Etterle, and then placed themselves across the broom, and so come on to the dancing green." So they had not gone through the air? " Certainly not ; that required an ointment, which ought only to be very rarely used." Who were on the dancing green? "Witches and their sweetheart-devils" (Buhlteufeln). Had she a sweetheart-devil ? " Yes ! the Sniveller." Did she not fear this devil ? " No, he was only a sweetheart- devil." Was there a difference between a sweetheart- devil and other devils ? " Why, of course ! The sweet- heart-devil was no real devil, only a witch's sweetheart like the ' Sniveller,' who was old Zimmerpeterle's son." Here we have a most remarkable confession, show- ing that the witch-gatherings were real meetings, that the women took with them the symbol of the old hearth or home goddess, the broom (or in some cases the fire- fork, Feuergabel), that the devils were real men of the neighbourhood. Further, that the broom was ridden like a hobby-horse on to the dancing green. This riding of broom or the pitchfork, or even the goat, should be taken in conjunction with the riding of the hobby- horse l or wooden goat round the village by the young 1 This occurs in many places. Note particularly Grossgottern, in Thuringen, where, at Whitsuntide in the forties of this century, men dressed as women 24 WOMAN AS WITCH men at peasant festivals in parts of Germany. Both seem closely connected with the worship of a female deity, whose symbols are those of the hearth and primi- tive agriculture. When we remember that the great witch dances to which students, and even doctors, of Tubingen used to go out were especially held on the eve of the first of May, how suggestive is the statement that "people of quality in the old days used to go from London to dance in the villages of Essex on May Day ! " The close connection between Walpurgisnacht, the eve of the first of May, and May Day itself must ever be kept in view. On the latter day we have the May queen aud her maidens decorating the tree or well of the mother-goddess ; on the former night we have a distorted image of the May-Day ceremonies, truer in some respects, all the same, to the old mother-age civil- isation. Links between the two will be found in sagas which make the witches beautiful maidens with flowing robes, dancing and feasting to the most entrancing music. Such sagas are not uncommon, particularly in Westphalia. But perhaps a closer link may be found in the custom of choosing maidens on Walpurgisnacht as sweethearts for the year. This occurs in the Lahn district, and is termed the Mailehn, or May-fee. The youths march out on this night with cracking of whips and with song. Then one of their number stands upon a hillock or stone, and calls out the names of maid and youth pair by pair, adding : " In this year to wed." Each pair must then keep together at all the dances of the year ; went about on hobby-horses collecting food for a common meal, and were termed Huren. In the evening there was a great drinking bout, feasting and dancing. In Beverley Minster on one of the misericords is depicted a man on a hobby-horse. WOMAN AS WITCH 25 the maiden places a wreath round the hat of her sweet- heart, and the evening ends in feasting and drinking. In other parts of Hesse the fee-calling takes place at Kirmes, and the couple only dance together for the Kirmes. Both periods remind us, however, of the Kirmes lover, or " three-day sweetheart " ; we are clearly dealing with a fossil of the old temporary sex-relation- ship. In Oberndorf, in Swabia, a like ceremony occurs at Midsummer Day, another great heathen and witch festival. This ceremony is called the Weiberdingete, or wife-hire, and consists in each man taking his wife to the village inn. The wife asks: "Will you hire your old wife again for another year ? " The husband answers : " Yes, I'll try it again with my old wife." Feasting, singing, and drinking go on till midnight, and the wife, it should be noted, pays the score. A similar institution was the Handfasting in Esk- dalemuir at the annual fair, where the unmarried of both sexes selected partners for the space of one year. If they were satisfied with the marriage, they continued again after the year, but if not they separated. This old Scottish custom seems to have combined the May- fee and the wife-hire. All are most noteworthy, as indicating that the licentious extravagances of the witch - gatherings point back to a form of marriage totally different from that of the patriarchal system, and peculiar to an age when the status of woman in both social and religious matters was far freer than it could be after the advent of Christianity and the martial organisation which accompanied the age of the folk-wanderings. 26 WOMAN AS WITCH If, then, I have indicated that we must look upon the witch - gatherings as fossils of high festivals for dancing, feasting, and the choice of sweethearts by the younger folk, I have still to show that the devil as master of the ceremonies is a late importation. I can do this best by citing to you the legend of the Bensberg in the Herkenrath district. Here there is a spot in the forest termed the tveichen Halm, which appears to be a corruption of the wichen Hain, or sacred grove. At this place, according to tradition, there are great witch- gatherings on May night and Midsummer night. Over these gatherings the devil and his grandmother preside. Three lads who once went as unobserved spectators were, according to the legend, astonished by the num- ber of witches present, and by a grandeur of which they had never dreamt. Upon a resplendent throne, the jewels of which lighted up the wood, sat the she-devil in youthful beauty, at her feet sat her grandson, the devil himself, and in a large half-ring round stood the witches, who kept flying in. Then the witches began a rhythmic movement with song and resonant music, ever bending towards the throne. The devil's grand- mother consecrated them with water from a golden vessel, using instead of the usual water -sprinkler a bunch of green ears of corn, which she carried in her right hand : in her left hand she held a beautiful golden apple. All the witches appeared young 1 and active maidens of astonishing beauty, such as the observers had never before seen, and the music sung was sweeter than any they had ever heard. It is true that when the lads' presence was dis- 1 Compare the young witch in Baldung Grien's cut, p. 30. WOMAN AS WITCH 27 covered all things became hideous and horrible, but the legend retains its significance all the same. The devil as a minor person seated at the feet of his grand- mother, who with corn ears and apple is obviously a goddess of the harvest like Ceres, worshipped by fair maidens with dance and song. I know no legend more striking than this in the manner in which it shows the origin of witch ceremonies in the old worship of a goddess of fertility by her woman devotees. But this same superiority of the devil's mother or grandmother over the devil is marked whenever we find traditions about them. 1 She cajoles him and wheedles secrets out of him, and at Soest is said even for a time to have banished him to the Brocken in the Harzgebirge on account of his idleness. Not only in Westphalia, but right away down to the Danube, we find traces of the devil's mother as a person of great importance. She builds a palace on the Danube, she hunts with black dogs in the night through Swabia, and wherever the devil himself can achieve nothing there he sends his mother. The devil's dam, hunting with black dogs through the night, directly associates this goddess with a number of female deities who ride with their dogs and a wild following through the dark on Twelfth Night, May Day, Midsummer Eve, or at Yule-tide. Thus in Mecklenburg, Frau Gode, described as a weather-witch, hunts through the night, sometimes on a white horse, sometimes on a sleigh drawn by dogs. She eats human flesh, she brings the plague, and no spinning must be done on the nights 1 The fact that we hear of the Teufclsstiefbriulcr hut never of his father is also not without value as determining the mother-age character of the civilisation, from which this mother and son dual deity took its origin. WOMAN AS WITCH when she is abroad. In Thiiringen, Frau Holda or Holla rides with the wild hunt on Wal/purgisnobcht. She looks after spinning, and punishes in the most brutal and cruel fashion the idle as well as those who insult her. She, too, is accompanied by her dogs. In Hesse, Frau Holle yearly passes over the land, and gives it fruitfulness. She can be friendly and helpful to her worshippers. She has her dwelling in a mere or well, and she makes women who go and bathe therein healthy and fruitful. Only a century ago songs used to rise to Frau Holle as the women dressed the flax, and to her sacred hill peasants and their wives were wont to go at Whitsuntide with music and dancing. A scarcely less noteworthy figure is that of Berchta with her plough. She waters the meadows, and on Twelfth Night she goes her round to punish idle spinsters, often in the most brutal manner. In Swabia, on Twelfth Night, a broom is carried in her procession, or she is represented with a broom in one hand and fruit in the other. This list of goddesses might be largely extended did our time per- mit ; but it may serve, as it is, to show that the devil's mother is only a degraded form of a goddess of fertility and domestic activity. She is but one of those god- desses whose symbols are those of agriculture, the pitch- fork and the plough, or of domestic usefulness, the broom and the spindle. She is associated with symbols of fertility, the ears of corn, fruit, the swine, and the dog. Her well brings with its water fertility to the land and fruitfulness to women. Her worship is associated with cruelties, human sacrifices, which point to an early stage of civilisation, and with licentiousness scarce paralleled WOMAN AS WITCH 29 in the worship of any male deity. In her it. is the activities of the woman and not the man which come into prominence ; the civilising work of woman in the home and on the fields ; she is type of the civilisation which is peculiarly woman's work. Eeplace the devil at witch-meetings by such a mother-goddess as Holle or Berchta, or reduce him at least to the menial office of cook, and there is not a sinole feature of witchcraft which is not replete with suggestion for the civilisation of the mother-age. The broom and the pitchfork no longer seem anomalies ; they are the symbols of the goddess, and as such are borne by her worshippers. As the blood of the lamb on the door-post hindered Jehovah from venting his anger upon his own worshippers, so the broom, which was actually carried by witches, if placed on the threshold, signified to the goddess that her worshippers were within. The symbol of the witch was originally the sign of the worshipper, the protection against the anger of the goddess, or of the priestess, her servant. How suggestive in this respect becomes all the folklore of brooms ! The solemn night gathering and night binding of brooms on New Year's Day ; the dance of men and maids round the fire at Midsummer Eve, the men carrying burning brooms ; the crossed brooms before the doorways in the Obererzgebirge on Wal- purgisnaclit as a protection against the witches ; * the besom by the cradle or at the door in Mecklenburg to protect the new-born child ; the cows and the stall pro- tected in the same district from witchcraft by an 1 The broom was also an essential feature of a Gretna Green marriage, just as the Feucrgubcl or tongs characterise the gipsy wedding, — another link 1 letween mar- riage folklore and the worship of the tribal goddess at the great folk-festivals of sex. WOMAN AS WITCH inverted broom or the presence of a goat, the favourite animal of the witch, and therefore presumably of her mistress, the goddess of fertility ; the riding of youth or maid on a broomstick to the pig-sty on New Year's Eve, when the answer of the swine determines the nature of the future bride or groom ; the burning of brooms on Walpurgisnacht in Thiiringen to frighten the witches ; the procession to the well at Saulgau, which was headed by a man bearing a broom, followed by one with a fork, and between them a third clothed in a sheepskin, and carrying a tree with apples and other eatables (termed the Adam's tree) ; the proces- sion of men wearing women's clothes, with brooms and fire-forks, on Fast-Nacht at Erlingen ; the brooms which the witches will not step over in Nassau, or which protect the cottage doors in the Pfalz against the entrance of witches ; the broom stuck in the dunghill in Schlesien to protect the homestead, or in the flax field to increase its fertility, or the brooms burnt on Midsummer Night with a wild dance, in the same district ; the besom which, laid on the bed, protects men against the cobbolds in North Germany, where we find again the same broomstick ride to the pig-sty, and the same burning of brooms at dances in the woods ; the old brooms which frighten away changelings ; and the worn-out brooms which are burnt in the fires on Mid- summer Eve in the Pfalz. All these evidences of broom- worship show how universal was the respect for the mother-goddess and her servants the witch-priestesses throughout the length and breadth of Germany. Similar folklore as to the distaff, the cooking ladle, Fig. 1. — Preparation for Witches' Sabbath. To face jh 30. Young witch on goat and old witches brewing. Cat, cooking -ladle, fire-forks, and other symbols of the primitive Mother -Goddess. From a woodcut by Haus Baldung Grien, WOMAN AS WITCH 31 and the pitchfork might be cited, the noteworthy point being that these symbols occur in identical ways at witch ceremonies and at peasant weddings — in fact, at the old and the new marriage rites. At the witches' feast there is a great kettle, and the devil as cook dances with the cooking ladle ; boys dance with brooms and cooking ladles on Walpurgisnacht. On the other hand, there is a special dance of the cook with a ladle at peasant weddings in Mecklenburg and in other parts of Germany. In the confession of Geseke Hagenmeister, a sixteenth-century witch, she described the cooking at witch-meetings as being exactly like that at a wedding. Indeed, the correspondences are most striking and suggestive. It is a charge against witches that they dance back to back with the devils ; this is precisely the form of peasant wedding dance illustrated by Albrecht Diirer. 1 The witches smear their feet to pass rapidly through the air. The Hochze its- bitter, or person who bids to the peasant weddings in Mecklenburg, asks the guests to smear their boots and shoes that they may come the quicker. The witches dance on hilltops ; in Uderstadt, in Thiiringen, on the second day of the marriage feast, the whole marriage company were bound by ancient custom to dance on the top of the Tafelsberg, a neighbouring hill, whither they proceeded in procession with music. The dancing- round the bride-stake and the distaff at weddings are strangely akin to the dancing round the Maypole, about the sacred tree, or with the broom on May Day, Mid- summer Night, or at witch-gatherings. On Walpurgis- 1 See also a 1600 Siegburger jug in the Berlin Gcvxrbc Museum. 32 WOMAN AS WITCH nacht, in Westphalia, the young men go round with music and song to honour their brides and sweethearts ; elsewhere they plant May-trees before their sweethearts' doors ; witches and wilde Frauen — that is, the hags or women of the woods — come in Swabia to weddings and to births. What is this but a relic of the day when the priestess of the goddess of fertility came to marriages and births as of right ? In North Germany the witch has power over the new-born and the new-bought ; she comes to take the tithe for sacrifice to the goddess. In Swabia, and in the Pfalz also, the midwife, according to the legends, is often a witch who baptizes the children in the devil's name, or again she lends women the Drutenstein or trud's stone to protect their babes against witches ; it is the hag or woman of the woods who knows and collects the herbs which relieve the labours of birth. Here we have the priestess of the old civilisation as medicine woman and midwife relieving o human suffering, putting the symbol of her goddess on the cradle, but taking her tithe of human life for sacrifice to the goddess — to whom without question all children born on Wal purgisnacht belong (Pfalz) — and exercising strange and hostile influences over women in childbed who do not submit to the old religious rites. The old human sacrifice is a marked feature of the religion of which witchcraft is the fossil. Witches, we are told, kill and eat children, especially the unbaptized. They boil them down, as all early sacrificial feasts and nearly all savage meals appear to be boilings and not roastings. Remarkable in this respect is the offering of wax figures of babies at shrines of the Virgin WOMAN AS WITCH 33 Mary as thank-offerings for easy birth. The Virgin Mary takes the place in innumerable ways of the old mother-goddess of fertility. But the human sacrifice to the goddess was not confined to children. In Heil- bronn we have the common feast, the common dance, and the burning of a scarecrow or guy as trace of sacrifice ; elsewhere in Swabia a female figure in the form of a witch is burnt, and her ashes scattered over the land to increase its fertility ; in Spain it is an old woman with a distaff in her hand, and it seems more than probable that the priestess herself was occasion- ally, perhaps as representative of the goddess, sacrificed by burning on the sacred hill or drowning in the sacred well. The goddess of fertility is killed in autumn, that she may arise rejuvenated in spring. This may possibly be the origin of Dido's self-immolation, and the popular legend of the sacrifice of the queen-priestess which is found in so many different localities. That male victims were also common is proved not only by the direct evidence of early historians but by many still extant folk-customs. These instances of witches as fossils of the priestesses of a goddess of fertility are not con- tradicted by the hostility which witches exhibit to marriage, or the fact that marriages on their great days, such as Twelfth Day and Walpurgis Day, are considered very unlucky. When we remember that the marriage of the civilisation, of which witches are fossils, was a group -marriage and not a monogamic marriage, we easily grasp why the old priestly caste would oppose the changes which led to the patriarchal system and the downfall of the old civilisation. Thus vol. 11 d 34 WOMAN AS WITCH it comes about that the bride must propitiate the goddess or her servant. Newly -married couples in Esthonia, one of the Russian Baltic provinces, carry an offering to the great water-mother in the shape of a goat ; in Bohemia and other parts of Austria the bride sacrifices a cock ; in England the bride had to anoint the threshold of the door, or smear the door-posts with swine's crease to avoid the " mischievous fascinations of witches." This must be compared with the blood of a black dog which was smeared on the door-posts to pro- tect the house from witches, much as the blood of a lamb was smeared by the Jews at Passover. In Bran- denburg the bride carries salt and dill to prevent the witches injuring her. In North Germany salt and dill are also used to protect newly -built bridges against witches. This is the more noteworthy as Tacitus tells us that the German priestesses prepared salt, and witches are famed for brewing salt and collecting; herbs. There is no doubt that the salt and the dill were symbols of a goddess, — types of the discoveries due to woman's work in the old mother-age civilisation, — and as such symbols they consecrated both bridge and bride to the goddess, and saved them from the anger of her priestesses, as the blood of the sheep saved from the anger of Jehovah. If my general theory be at all a correct one, we ought to find in witchcraft fossils of the old law of inheritance peculiar to the mother-age, and something akin to this we do find. In the Eheinthal we hear of uralte Hexensippe — families where from time imme- morial witchcraft has been handed down from mother WOMAN AS WITCH to daughter. Then we have the widely-spread German proverb : Die Mutter eine Hexe, die Tochter auch eine Hexe, or, "The mother a witch, the daughter one too." The charms, spells, and potions seem to have been handed down from mother to daughter in long line, and were only learnt by men from women as a special favour. Many are the legends of the witch who takes her husband or the farm-servant with her to a witch- gathering ; but it is always in a subordinate position, and the unfortunate man, not knowing the full ritual, produces a confusion, which ends, as a rule, disastrously for his skin. Another noteworthy fact is that in many parts of Germany any heirloom banishes witches or protects the person who carries it against them. Thus to stand within an inherited chain, or upon an inherited harrow, or with an inherited key or sieve, renders witchcraft powerless. It is difficult to look upon all these very diverse inherited things as symbols of the goddess which mark and protect her servants. I am inclined to think that they are really typical of the civilisation which first attained what we should term a law of inheritance, of a civilisation which was distin- guished from that of the old mother-age when pro- perty belonged to the group and passed through the women, by the custom of property passing from father to son. Thus the man took as symbol of his new civil- isation the heirloom, and used it as a sign to protect himself against the priestesses of the old faith. That the goddesses served by the witches were essen- tially goddesses of agriculture is demonstrated by the various ceremonies with regard to plants and herbs 36 WOMAN AS WITCH which take place on the great witch-nights. In Esthonia, where the Virgin Mary has taken the place of an old goddess of fertility, there is a ceremonial planting of cabbages by the women on the Feast of her Annuncia- tion shortly before Midsummer Day. In Brandenburg there is a ceremonial gathering of herbs on May Day. Once when I was ill in the Black Forest I had herb- tea brought to me by an old peasant woman, the herbs having been gathered on St. John's night. In Mecklen- burg herbs are gathered on Midsummer Night, which protect people against witches. In Thtiringen caterpillars are banished from the cabbage plot by a woman running- naked round the field or garden before sunrise on the eve of the annual fair. In the Pfalz, flax will not thrive unless it is sown by the women, and it has to be done with strange ceremonies, including the scattering- over the field of the ashes of a fire made of wood consecrated during matins. As high as the maids jump over the fires on the hilltops on Midsummer Night, so high will the flax grow ; but we find also that as high as the bride springs from the table on her marriage night, so high will the flax grow in that year. Green cabbages gathered at Yule-tide or on Twelfth Night, and eaten by man and beast, protect them against witches ; in other words, those who eat it, like those who eat the paschal lamb, are performing a rite which protects them from the anger of the deity. Besides this relation to herbs and plants, the goddess shows her relation to fruitfulness in the matter of wells, springs, and ponds. At the Sive- ringer spring, near Vienna, crowds of people come on WOMAN AS WITCH y] feast - clays, especially on Midsummer Night ; many spend the night in the woods, and if a stone taken from the Agnesiviese be laid in the water of the spring, and then under the pillow, prophetic dreams follow. The spring is supposed to be sacred to a fay, Agnes, who is friendly to mortals. Margretha Beutzins, tried for witchcraft in the sixteenth century, confessed that she and other witches fetched water out of a stream, boiled it with herbs in a large caldron over a fire, and bathed the devil therein. This bathing ceremony in a sacred stream at witch -gatherings or on Midsummer Night appears to be very general. In Thuringen, near TierTurt, is a sacred spring still called Weihbrunnen ; this well is one of the wells from which children are brought, — that is, the well of a goddess of fertility — and there are legends about children being found there, who afterwards return to dance round the well. On the Virgin Mary's birthday — the festival of maids, as it was still called at the beginning of our century — the maidens in Thuringen used to rise before daybreak and bathe with the water of a sacred spring, which made them beautiful. In Hesse bathing in Frau Holle's pond, or in various sacred wells, makes barren women fruitful. Here we have the same notion of fertility due to the sacred water of the goddess ; but in later days she has been replaced by the Virgin Mary. In Halle is a well termed the Freucklerin well ; it is said to be so called from an old woman, who had a great knowledge of how to cure diseases, and we evidently have a trace of an old healing goddess. In Steisslingen, in Swabia, the wells are decorated on May Day ; there is dancing and a 38 WOMAN AS WITCH feast at niglit. May-Day baths are frequently mentioned in the old chronicles, as well as special Midsummer-Day baths. They seem to have frequently preceded the dancing round the sacred well. Near Burgeis is the Zerzerbrunnen, a well of three wild maidens. Alongside it there used to be an altar to which shepherds and huntsmen brought their firstlings. The altar is now replaced by a chapel. Such wells which legend attri- butes to a well-maiden, or three sisters, or wild maidens, are very frequent. Often the maidens come out from the well, and join in the peasant dances of the neigh- bourhood ; this occurs especially on St. John's night. The wilde Frauen thus associated with wells are not exactly witches, but, like witches, they come to weddings and births, and are accompanied by dogs. They are the three sisters to whom so many mediaeval charms and in- cantations are addressed, and to whom men go for counsel and aid. They are rather the legendary form of an old triune goddess of fertility than the degenerate form which her priestess has taken as a witch. They are goddesses of fertility, but also of disease and death, as well as of medicine and life. For pest and death are in early times represented as women, not as men. The healing goddess is related to the " great virgin " of Esslingen, who, we are told, outwitted all men, priests and laymen, even the most famous physicians, with her magic. That these spring or well goddesses had a side in dark contrast to their dancing, singing, and healing characteristics is clearly enough evidenced by the traces we have of human sacrifices to wells and springs, and of licentious gather- ings in their neighbourhood. As goddesses they are WOMAN AS WITCH 39 frequently represented in the legends as spinning ; they come to weddings and spin ; they punish idle spinsters, and their worship is closely connected with the distaff as symbol. Another phase of their worship is connected with the village spinning-room and the licentiousness which then and now surrounds that institution. But to enter into the folklore and practice of the spinning-room and its fossils in still more ill-famed resorts might in- deed throw much light on the mother-age, but it would lead us too far from our present subject of witchcraft. I have endeavoured to interpret various obscure witch-customs as fossils of an ancient woman civilisation, especially as fossils of its religious worship, reflecting as all religion the social habits and modes of thought of the society in which it originated. We shall see these phases of the old life still further emphasised if we note a few — a very few — of the ceremonies which occur in Germany on Walpurgisnacht, May Day or Midsummer Day — times especially associated with witches and the old feminine deities. In the Eussian Baltic provinces we find that there are festivals on the first of May with torch or candle processions comparable with the witch gatherings and the Friesian marriage ; that a May king- is chosen, who does reverence to the May queen, 1 and that a free feast is given to the women and maidens. As usual, there is music and dancing in the even- ing exactly as at witch - dances. In Dantzig there is dancing on the Fayusberg, possibly the fairy's hill. In Denmark we find processions with choral 1 The May - Day ceremonies here closely approach the Mylitta feast at Babylon ; see Essay XI. 4 o WOMAN AS WITCH dances of maidens, communal feasting and drinking, while we have still extant songs made by pious folk to replace the old ribald May-Day songs. 1 In Esthonia, at midsummer, the maidens go to certain hilltops, and there, bedecked with flowers, dance and sing round fires. On Midsummer Night this often degenerated into a veritable bacchanal ; there were dances of nude women and a licentiousness such as we hear of at the witch- gatherings. The privilege of a similar license was claimed by women also at the great festival of spring, in which respect it may be noted that February in Mecklenburg is said to be the woman's month, i.e. the month in which women rule. On the Konigstuhl, near Heidelberg, when I was a student there, the whole town was to be found on Walpurgisnacht. Groups of maidens and students went up singing through the woods, there was dancing at the top, and waiting to see the sun rise. At Whitsuntide, in the Obererzgebirge, there used to be dancing outdoors all night. In Mecklenburg, on Midsummer Night, a great caldron is carried round, in which eggs, butter, milk, are collected ; there are choral dances, especial antique dances, and a common meal lasting till late into the night. The special lighting of the Midsummer fires and the driving the herds through them to protect them from witch- craft, the Hahnenschlag, — trace of an old cock-sacrifice, — all which occur in the same district, are fossils of old religious rites. Noteworthy and suggestive is the appearance of the caldron — the witches' caldron — 1 Even as the same folk have recently replaced the old bridal songs in Iceland ! WOMAN AS WITCH 41 at many folk -festivals. It is closely connected with the common and free meal of the ancient group. This common meal occurs in the marriage rites of a later age ; thus in Altenburg, at the time of a wedding, a waggon is sent round to collect provisions; there is music, and often dancing, even to the church ; and on the evening of the wedding there is a feast free to all upon the food collected, a general dancing, and in the old times there was great licentiousness. In the early days the food seems to have gone even into the church ; a fossil of this old custom is still preserved in the wine and cake handed round in some places at weddings inside the church. In Mecklenburg at weddings we have dancing; out of the bridal house and down the village, also a pro- cession of maidens with candles exactly as in the Friesian wedding. This dancing down the public streets recurs in many places ; for example, in old days the Faddy dance on May Day in Cornwall in and out of the houses and down the village. In Rottweil we find dancing in the public streets and feasting on high festivals, and even at weddings, accompanied, as usual, by great license. In Thiiringen on Wal/purgisnacht we have dancing round the linden tree, and on Midsummer Night a fire festival for maids and men. At Whitsuntide the men collect food for a common meal, and it is followed by a dance ; in return the maidens fetch the youths to a dance and give them a meal, paying for the music. This is termed the feast of the Brunnenfege, and seems to be a relic of an old well-worship. In Hesse we have a decoration of the wells on May Day, and choral dances of the maids on Midsummer Night ; in the very same 42 WOMAN AS WITCH district the witches meet on the former night for dancing, and there is a common meal under the Hexenlinde, or witches' linden tree. In Heilbronn, on Walpurgisnacht, there is a common meal and the burnino; of a scarecrow — relic of an old human sacrifice. This is said to be done to hinder the witches, but yet this very night, according to the folk- lore of the country round, they are most active and have most power. In North Germany the witches are said to dance away the snow from the Blocksberg on Walpurgisnacht; in other words, they are friendly servants of a goddess of fruitfulness, whose influence over women agriculturists is well marked in the custom in Uker- and Mittel-mark of putting a scarecrow called Walpurg on the land of those maidens who have not completed their digging of the soil by May Day. Traces of the sacrifice of cats or horses on Walpurgis- nacht are very frequent, and a cat or dog is the usual companion of the primitive goddess or her priestess, the witch. The Scandinavian goddess Freya is drawn by cats, the alte Fricke goes with dogs, so does Fru G-ode. The dog, the cat, and the three ears of corn are symbols of the Virgin Mary, but also of Walpurg, and the devil's grandmother as well, clearly indicating how many of the characteristics, and even the symbols of the old mother- goddesses, were passed on to the Virgin in early Christian times. 1 Nay, like Holle and Gode and Berchta, she became a goddess of spinning, which 1 Folk-gatherings remained for many ages linked to the old heathen goddess festivals and their sacred spots. It is interesting from this standpoint to notice that the place of gathering for the commons of Norwich was at the chapel of ' ' the blessed Virgin in the Fields." WOMAN AS WITCH 43 was not allowed on her holy days. The picture of primitive woman taming the cat and the dog, domesti- cating the smaller animals, including the pig, the goat, and the goose, is brought clearly out in their becoming the companions and symbols of the primitive goddess ; just as the broom, the distaff, and the pitchfork, the ears of corn, and the apple, show her activity in the direc- tion of domestic economy and in the earliest forms of agriculture. I cannot do better than conclude the witchcraft evidence of woman's primitive ascendency by referring to one out of the many local mother -goddesses who were converted into local saints by early Christianity. The one which I will consider is Walpurg, from whom the name of the great witch-gathering Walpurgisnacht takes its origin. According to the legend, Walpurg was a female missionary who accompanied St. Boniface and was canonised as a virgin saint of the Catholic Church. But let us see the real nature of Walpurg in folklore and local usage. Many wells or springs are associated with her name ; the waters of these wells heal diseases. Her bones, or the stone on which they were formerly exhibited, exuded oil, and this oil was sold or carried off by pilgrims in little bottles to cure toothache and relieve the pangs of childbirth. The exuding began on Walpurgisnacht, on which occasion her oil was also drunk as old ale. On May Day in 1720 the priests from no less than forty parishes came to Attigny, one of the shrines of Walpurg, to share in the distribution of oil. Lutheran women who had been assisted in childbirth by the oil entered the 44 WOMAN AS WITCH Catholic Church. Walpurg is represented with an oil flask in her hand. In Bavaria there is an old chapel at Kaufering to Walpurg. At this chapel the folk say health offerings used to be made to idols in the old days, and in a neighbouring building the old plague cars were preserved. Walpurg is thus associ- ated with a being who once protected the people from disease. The dog is peculiarly sacred to Walpurg, and she cures the bite of mad dogs. Thus the dog, the token of fertility, is sacred to her as to Holle and Frick. She carries three ears of corn in her hand — the symbol of the goddess of agricultural fertility. On Watyurgistag there is a procession in the Frankenwald which opens with the Walber, a man clothed with straw ; there is a dance round the Walber tree — a symbolic driving out of winter and a heralding of spring. In Lower Austria the harvest days are especially consecrated to Walpurg. She then goes through all the fields and gardens with a spindle blessing them. Like the witches, she brings in spring, and by dancing makes the fields fertile. We have already noted that the great common meals of the Germans, with their accompanying worship of some goddess of fertility, were not abolished by the intro- duction of Christianity. In many places they were converted into a Kirmes or ecclesiastical feast. Such a common meal used to be held at Monheim in a church dedicated to Walpurg. Oxen and swine were carried for this purpose into the church itself. It will be obvious from the above and from the general character of the feastings and dancings on Walpurgisnacht that Walpurg could not have originally presented an Fig. 2. — Witch tvith Spindle, Distaff, and Goat, Symbols of the Primitive Mother-Goddess. After a copper engraving by Albrecht Diirer. WOMAN AS WITCH 47 ascetic virgin saint. She is the typical goddess of fruitfulness with a by no means ascetic cult. She is the presiding spirit of the old group-gatherings with their common meal, their clan discussions and elements of law-making, their agricultural ritual, their general wor- ship of fruitfulness and fertility, and their blessing of animals, of corn, and of the hearth and its industries. But the fruitfulness of animals and land is associated with the like in mankind, and the bathing in the sacred spring or the dew are only another side of the worship which culminated in the license of Walpurgisnacht. It is in this aspect that the Westphalian Walpurg at Antwerp appears as a Venus, a goddess of fertility to whom barren women offer wreaths of flowers. In this aspect of goddess of love and fertility she reappears near Eichstadt, while even in the Catholic calendar she has the patronate of the fruitfulness of the soil. It will be seen from the above brief account of Wal- purg that she corresponds exactly to the type of goddess we should expect to meet with in the ceremonials of witchcraft and in the revels of Waljmrgisnacht. She is the old type of mother-goddess wdio, like a good many of her sisters, has received a slight coat of whitewash from the early Christians and reappeared as a Catholic virgin and saint. Walpurg brings before us clearly all the strong and weak points of that old- woman civilisation, fossils of which I have suggested are lurking half hidden in the folklore of witchcraft. It is a civilisation based rather on the useful arts of agriculture and domestic economy than of war and the chase. It is one in which the earliest rudi- 48 WOMAN AS WITCH ments of medicine, the domestication of the smaller animals, the cultivation of vegetables, and flax and corn, the use of the distaff, the spindle, the broom, the fire- rake, and the pitchfork are in no hesitating language — if we but know how to read it — claimed as the inven- tions and discoveries of woman. Those discoveries are the real basis of our civilisation to-day, and not only the basis but a good part of the superstructure. Some may be inclined to smile at the broom, the distaff, and the pitchfork, and compare them with the printing-press and the steam-engine, but the smile is the smile of the ignorant, and the comparison itself idle. For the one set could never have been without the other. Let us be quite sure that these origins of civilisation were not the discoveries of the man, who in his superior might made the women use them. The primitive savage knows nothing of agriculture, of spinning, of herbs, and of springs, but his wife does. It is not he but she who could have made them symbols of a female deity, and in the power of a superior knowledge have forced the worship of that deity upon the whole group or clan. If my audience ask me why and how it came about, I can only indicate now my belief that the fertility, resource, and inventive power of early woman arose from the harder struggle she had to make for the preservation of her child and herself in the battle of life. It was the struo;oie of tribe against tribe in actual warfare which quickened the intellect of the man. But that I hold to be a later struggle ; the first struggle was for food and for shelter against natural forces, and that was the contest from which the civilisation of woman arose. It carried WOMAN AS WITCH 49 mankind a long way — a way the length of which we are only just beginning to realise. But it could not carry mankind to that family organisation from which so much was afterwards to develop. It was based upon the mother as head of the group, and upon a form of group-marriage of which it is hard now to judge im- partially. If one of the worst abuses of the father-age be really only a degenerate form of the older group- marriage, and is not the pure outcome of male domina- tion — if there be a direct line of descent from the old licentious worship of the mother-goddess to the extra- vagances of witchcraft, to the spinning-room, and to the legalised vice of to-day — we have still to remember that the perpetuation by one civilisation of the weak points of an earlier one, and this possibly in an exaggerated form, is no reason for the condemnation of the earlier stage. The civilisation of woman handed down a mass of useful custom and knowledge ; it was for after genera- tions to accept that, and eradicate the rest. When I watch to-day the peasant woman of Southern Germany or of Norway toiling in the house or field, while the male looks on, then I do not think the one a down- trodden slave of the other. She appears to me the bearer of a civilisation to which he has not yet attained. She may be a fossil of the mother-age, but he is a fossil of a still lower stratum — barbarism pure and simple. When we have once fully recognised the real magnitude of what women achieved in the difficult task of civilisa- tion in these olden times, then we shall be the less apt to think her status unchangeable, to assume that she is hopelessly handicapped by her function of child-bearing, vol. 11 e So WOMAN AS WITCH and that the hard work of the world must be left to men. If I wished to give a full picture of what woman accomplished for the first time in the world, and what she is in many parts still undertaking, it would be hard to do so better than by quoting the following words from the recent report of an American Consul in Germany : — American readers will hardly understand how it can be that the severest part of existence in this whole region falls to the lot of woman. But such is the fact. She is the servant and the burden- bearer. . . . The chief pursuits of women in this district (Sonne- berg) are not of a gentle or refining character. They perform by far the greater part of all the outdoor manual service. The plant- ing and the sowing, including the preparation of the soil, therefore, is done by them. I have seen many a woman in the last few weeks holding the plough, drawn by a pair of cows, and still more of them carrying manure into the fields in baskets strapped to their backs. They also do much of the haying, including the mowing and the pitching ; likewise the harvesting ; after which they thrash much of the grain with the old-fashioned hand flail. They accompany the coal carts through the city, and put the coal into the cellars while the male driver sits upon his seat. They carry on nearly all the dairy business, and draw the milk into town in a hand-cart, a woman and a dog usually constituting the team. Here we have a wonderfully suggestive fossil of woman in the mother-age — primitive woman, the first agriculturist, shouldering the pitchfork, the symbol of her deity, and accompanied by the creature of her goddess — her friend and helper, the dog. ASHIEPATTLE: OK HANS SEEKS HIS LUCK Nu bin ich erwachet uml i-t mil unbekant, Daz mir hie vor was kiindic als min ander hant, Liut unde lant, da ich von kinde bin erzogen, Die sint mir fremde worden, reht' als ez si gelogen ; Die mine gespilen waren, die sint triige und alt : Mich griiezet maneger trage, der mich bekande e wol. Walthcr v. d. Vocjelv Ashiepattle, the dirty ash -lad, Hans ' der Dumm- ling,' a ' Schneiderlein,' or the miller's boy, 1 sets out into the world to seek his luck. He is courteous and friendly to an old woman whom he meets in the forest, and who possesses magical powers. He travels through many kingdoms, and at last he comes to one where the king is in difficulties from dragons or giants, or in domestic trouble owing to his daughter declining matrimony until a wooer is found who can perform certain notable feats. Hans, with the aid of the afore- said old woman, either achieves prodigious victories, or accomplishes all the tasks proposed to him. He then demands his bride, and becomes ' der junge Konig,' or as the tale often winds up : 1 The ngly idler Pervonto of II Pentamerone is the Italian, Askclad the Norwegian equivalent of the German Dummliay and the English Ashiepattle. 52 ASHIEPATTLE: OR HANS SEEKS HIS LUCK Da ward die Hochzeit gefeiert, und der Dummling erbte das Reich, und lebte lange Zeit vergniigt mit seiner Gemahlin. Now in the days of our childhood we read this theme varied in a hundred different ways, but always felt it quite natural and fitting that Hans should find his luck, marry his princess, and become heir to the kingdom. It did not strike us as peculiar that kings were as plentiful as blackberries ; we should have con- sidered it quite immoral for the kingdom to have gone to anybody but the king's daughter, and, being demo- crats as all children must be, we thought it most proper that the princess should only act as a conduit pipe to convey the kingdom to Hans — the brave, stout, kindly Hans, the son of the people. The land of Miirchen had its ow T n customs, its own laws of descent, its own pro- fusion of kings ; it was quite reasonable that it should be largely at the mercy of mysterious old women, or subject to the whims of princesses. It was all intense reality to us, and such historic facts as the law of primogeniture, descent in the male line, the court ruled by soldier and priest, and not by princess and old woman, had never entered our field of view. Marchen- land was the real land of our childhood, and its customs and characters — the witch, the king's daughter, Hans, and the giant — became impressed upon us as the actuali- ties — well, if not of life immediately around us, still of another world only slightly removed in either space or time. And what became of Marchenland ? It faded away before a world of grammar, history, and geo- graphy, a hundred times more idle and unreal than ASHIEPATTLE: OR HANS SEEKS HIS LUCK 53 itself. How feeble, how futile it all seemed, when the needs of another generation brought us back to what had once been familiar as the other hand ; land wherein and folk amid whom we had been reared in childhood had become strange, " relit' als ez si gelogen," and our old comrades greeted us but coldly. Yet, as one read on to little nestling forms keenly intent on their land of reality, a new sense and a new life came into Marchen- land. It became a reality for the elder, too ; its customs and characters, if distorted and obscured, were again actualities ; they described, with perhaps tedious reiteration, great features of an early stage of our race's civilisation. Marchenland told the same tale as word- lore and folklore ; there had been an age when civilisa- tion was much more the work of women than of men, and when the social customs as to marriage and pro- perty were very different from those of to-day. It is to this aspect of Marchenland that I wish to turn in this essay. I shall be satisfied if it leads any of my readers to take up their Grimm again with an interest and delight akin to what I myself feel, and to what we all felt in those days of long ago, when the ideal was the real for us, and the real was a trivial and stupid world with which we had small occasion to fash ourselves. Is Marchenland after all a place in which every- thing is turned topsy-turvy to the delight of children, or may not much of children's pleasure in it arise from an unconscious sympathy between the child and the thought and custom of the childhood of civilisation ? In the life and feeling of the child the mother and the 54 ASHIEPATTLE: OR HANS SEEKS HIS LUCK woman play the largest part ; and so it is in the religious and social institutions of primitive man. To the child, singing and dancing are the natural expres- sions of the emotions ; in him mot her- worship, animism, and food-cult are strongly developed. The animals, again, are to the child at once beings full of mysterious power, and yet equals and intimates in a degree never again approached during life. In all these respects the true parallels to the child are the men and women of early civilisation. I have never yet found a healthy normal child who felt difficulty about the talking of cats, the provision of hearty meals daintily laid by goats, or the advice and warning given by birds to friendly mortals. It takes all these things as seriously and as unhesitatingly as the Roman took the cackling of his sacred geese, or primitive man takes the animal lore and totemism of his tribe. The psychologist, who will watch the reception of Miirchen by children, will learn much of the manner in which Mar chert have been developed among primitive men ; but he will learn something more : he will grasp how much of the customs and feelings of Mcirchenland are merely reflexes of a long past stage of social development — of the child- hood of human culture. Let us try and interpret some of the fundamental features of Mdrchenland, so real to the child, so unreal to his elder. In the first place, the great bulk of the population we have to deal with leads a country life. We may be taken into a village, but rarely, if ever, into a town. We have to deal with peasants and with hunters, with men and women of the fields and of the forests. We ASHIEPATTLE: OR HANS SEEKS HIS LUCK 55 are introduced to goose-girls, to swineherds, to women who spend their time amid cows and goats, and men who chop wood and hunt. If the craftsman comes in, it is the craftsman of the village community, the black- smith, the tailor, or the miller. If we go into towns and palaces, it is the simpleton and country lad who takes us there ; we do not deal with ships and mer- chandise, but with agricultural produce and the trophies of the chase. Cathedrals and knights and men in armour are not of our company. If we want advice or sympathy we seek it not of priests or lawyers, of bailies or Amtmanner ; we go to the animals, to a iveise Frau or a Hexe. With the exception of kings, to be referred to later, the Schultheiss, or elected head of a peasant community, is almost the chief authority we come across. In short, the people who developed the Teutonic Marchen, as we know it in our Grimm, were not a town population, but one living by agriculture and hunting ; not a people of the mountains, the snows, and the lakes, but a people living rather in the clearings of the forest ; a people with a primitive agri- culture, chiefly conducted by women ; a people to whom the witch and wise woman, rather than the priest and knight, were the guides and instructors in life. The Marchen have been added to, developed, modified ; all sorts of later elements and personages have been grafted on to them, but, taken in the bulk, we see quite clearly that they are not the production of an age which knew Christianity and chivalry. They might have been evolved among the Germans whom Tacitus describes for us, but they could not be the product of 56 ASHIEPATTLE: OR HANS SEEKS HIS LUCK mediaeval society with its knight, its monk, and its burgher. Here were people whose wells and streams, forests and hilltops, were sacred, not to Christian, but to very heathen beings, to spinning ladies, to little men, and magic-working old women. The people, in fact, who created the Mdrchen are the people who created the Weisthiimer, the folk of the Hag and the Mahal. Bearing in mind what other essays have to show us of the nature of the primitive kin -communities, we can with a considerable degree of certainty date the period from which many individual Mdrchen have sprung. In broad outline there are three chief periods to be considered : — (a) An endogamous period, in which relationship of the womb is the bond between the group, social and sexual. The continuity of the group is maintained by the women, and its property may in this sense be said to pass through them. The kin -group worship a goddess of fertility, who is served by her priestesses, the matrons, seeresses, and wise women of the group. A kin-alderman is selected in case of need. (6) A transition period, in which the kin-alderman, zupan or Kuning. has usurped chief power in the group. The property still passes through the women, but the king has taken possession of the women. The sex-custom of the group has become exogamous, but property does not descend from father to son. The man marries into the wife's group, and the way to obtain a ' kingdom ' is to kill the king and marry his queen, or more peacefully to marry his daughter. ' Kings ' are as plentiful as blackberries, because ASHIEPATTLE: OR HANS SEEKS HIS LUCK 57 every kin -alderman or clan-father lias developed into one. Smaakonge are to be found in every valley, and to cross the belt of forest which separates one Genossenschaft from a second is to enter a new kingdom. 1 The mother-goddess is still of great influence, but © © her cult is being undermined ; and her priestess, the Hexe or witch, is coming to possess an ill more fre- quently than a good name. The power to dispose of the women, and of the inheritance which goes with them, is used by the king as a means of obtaining outside assistance in times of danger. Such internal troubles are almost invariably used by the Hexen to further their own ends, or to assist their own favourites. (c) A purely patriarchal period, in which descent through the male line has been finally established. The mother -goddess has become a mere legendary being who haunts wells or woods ; the Hexen and the old sex -festivals have obtained a very evil repute. We have reached a time in which sagas and hero-stories replace Marchen, and women are of small import in the management of the commune. If we wish to ascertain in which of these periods a Marchen has arisen, we can apply three tests, one or other of which will usually suffice : — (i.) What is the general weight given to the opinion and advice of women ? (ii. ) Is the Hexe friendly or hostile to men ? 1 A king will often possess several kingdoms. Thus in Die trier kunsh Brilder a king gives away four half-kingdoms, and presumably still retains some for himself and for his daughter. 58 ASHIEPATTLE: OR HANS SEEKS HIS LUCK (iii.) Does the kingdom pass to the king's daughter or to a son ? The last test is practically identical with the follow- ing : Does the hero take his bride home with him, or go and live in her country or among her kin ? Many Mdrchen judged by these tests will be found to be compound, a later addition or expansion over- laying a more primitive story ; but generally the great bulk of Mdrchen will be found to belong to a matri- archal and not a patriarchal people, to a people rather in the transition stage (6), than in the stage (c) as de- scribed above. A few statistics may be of interest. Out of 200 Mdrchen examined by these tests, 74 could be dis- tinguished by the third criterion. Of these 6 had a mixed law of descent. In no less than 48 the king- dom passed through the daughter, or the husband went to live with his bride. In 20 only did the king- dom descend to a prince, or a hero take his bride to his own home. In one case out of these twenty, the king- dom went to the youngest son ; in four cases the witch was purely malevolent ; in seven cases references occurred to church or priest ; and in eight cases there were no further data to guide one as to the period of origin. We may therefore, I think, conclude that the great bulk of Mdrchen date from an age in which pro- perty descended only to relations by the womb. Pleni- tude of kings and inheritance by daughters are not signs of the topsy-turvydom of Mdrchenland, but characteristics of the age from which it dates. Read between the lines, the stories of Agamemnon and ASHIEPATTLE: OR HANS SEEKS HIS LUCK 59 Odysseus, Grecian Smaakonge, point markedly to the end of such an age in another Aryan stock. The wooers of Clytemnestra or Penelope, if successful, will become lords and kings in the land ; the husband or son has to maintain his 'right' by the sword. The tragedy springs from the replacement of the old right of the mother -age by a new right, in which the son shall claim through his father. The moral of one civilisation, nay, almost of one generation, is to became the im- moral of the next, and the old immorality the new morality ; therein lies the most fruitful source of human tragedies on both small and large scale. Hamlet and Orestes arose in a transition age, when the custom of inheritance was changing ; in an age when mother-right was becoming father-wrong, and a conflict of duties bred problems for which no established standard pro- vided a moral solution. In a much less impressive, if not less suggestive form, the Marchen raise the same problems ; and the Hexen, like the Furies, will be nearly always found fighting the battle of the old civilisation, acting as champions of mother-right. In order to illustrate this point, it will not be with- out service to briefly analyse the series of witches to be found in one collection of Marchen, Grimm's tales. If the view I have suggested be correct, we should expect to find the witch living the life of the old civilisation, that is, dwelling in some hut in a clearing in the forest, depending upon her own growth of vegetables or collection of fruit, surrounded by the smaller domesticated animals, the goat and the goose ; meanwhile she will watch the weather, give advice, 60 ASHIEPATTLE: OR HANS SEEKS HIS LUCK brew poison, befriend and enchant, 1 as the case may be, or as she wishes to favour the old or oppose the new civilisation. Occasionally, instead of a hut in the forest, the witch has a well or spring. At first sight, it might appear as if the witch were thus confused with the spring goddess herself, but the discovery of more than one cave-dwelling or habitation down a well in Bavaria 2 is not without its weight in reckoning the probability of actual well-dwelling witches. We may note also Das blaue Licht, where the witch hides her treasures in a subterranean chamber leading off a well. In the very first tale of our Grimm, the German Froschhonig, the Scottish Frog-Lover, we find that near the king's house is a vast, dense wood, and in the wood an old lime tree, at the foot of which is a spring or well. The witch associated with this spot is spoken of as evil, for she has enchanted a prince or king's son. Her hostility, however, to this particular king's son may possibly be accounted for by the fact that when he is disenchanted he carries his bride off to his own kingdom. He is one of the " modern " young men, with a patriarchal view of life, removed far indeed from that of the witch- priestess. Quite in keeping with this witch is the witch in Rapunzel. Frau Gothel is a great hand at the cultivation of vegetables, and her neighbour steals, as folk -custom justified him in doing, corn -salad for his 1 It is conceivable, although of course it cannot be proven, that the primitive witch-priestesses had learnt the secret of hypnotising those who could be useful or were hostile to them. Many of the features of enchantment would thus become intelligible. For example, the evil eye of the witch, or a common method of overcoming her, namely, to go and do precisely what you need in her presence but without paying the least regard to her. 2 See Panzer, Batjerischc Gebrauche, Bd. ii. pp. 277, 302. ASHIEPATTLE: OR BANS SEEKS HIS LUCK 61 pregnant wife. The enraged witch, who has found him in the act of stealing, is pacified when she hears the cause of his theft, but demands the child about to be born. " All shall be well with it, and I will tend it as a mother." Frau Gothel is not unkind to the child, until a king's son with patriarchal principles comes to steal her. " He took her to his kingdom, and they lived for long in happiness and contentment." Again we see the hostility of the witch associated with the new form of marriasfe — the Raubehe. As a contrast to these two hostile witches, we may note the witch in Die Gdnsehirtin am Brunnen. Here we are certainly in a matriarchal community, for the kingdom goes to the king's daughters ; at least to the elder daughters, for the younger is driven out into the forest for a pre- sumed want of affection for her father. Here she becomes goose -girl to a ' steinaltes Miitterchen,' who lives with her herd of geese in a small hut on a forest- clearing. This old woman spends her time in collecting- grass and wild fruit, and, like the modern Tyrolese peasant woman, is able to carry a greater burden than the passing stranger who offers his services. To such a stranger she may sternly teach a lesson, but she is at heart friendly to him as well as to the maiden. She is a typical representative of primitive womanhood, busy with the spinning-wheel and the besom, and knowing in forest-lore, and, when occasion requires, enchantment. She makes her hut into a palace for the princess, and to that, not to his own home, the hero takes his bride. Then the tale concludes with the suggestive words : — 62 ASHIEPATTLE: OR HANS SEEKS HIS LUCK So viel ist gewiss, class die Alte keine Hexe war, wie die Leute glaubten, sondern eine weise Frau, die es gut meinte. Wahrscheinlick ist sie es auch gewesen, die der Konigstochter schon bei der Geburt die Gabe verliehen hat Perlen zu weinen statt der Thranen. To a later age the notion of the witch as, at bottom, friendly and wise had become inconceivable. Other Mcirchen illustrating similar points may be noticed more briefly. In Die zwolf Briider the kingdom is to go, not to them, but to the thirteenth child, a daughter ; 1 and we may probably take as evidence of the declining strength of the old custom, the desire that these sons should be killed in order that they may not seize or share the inheritance. Here it is a friendly old woman who instructs the girl how to save her brothers from enchantment. The reference to the biblical Benjamin and the tag in which the girl goes away to the husband's house, appear to be later additions ; the latter being quite out of keeping with the commence- ment of the story in which the girl is to inherit the kingdom in preference to her brothers. In Hansel unci Grethel the witch is evil, and has the cannibal instincts, 2 which are not so much a sign of her wickedness as of the human sacrifices which were certainly associated with primitive matriarchal societies. In Das Rdthsel the witch is a poison - brewing hag, hostile to wandering kings' sons ; but yet a king's daughter, and presumably 1 Cf. the Norse De tolv Vildccndcr. - The age of human sacrifice will never be found very far removed from the age of cannibalism, for the primitive sacrifice was essentially a feast. There are traces of cannibalistic tendencies in such tales as Von clem Machandelboom, Fundevogel, Sncewittchen, etc., besides the usual man-eating propensities of the giants. Traces of this primitive cannibalistic sacrifice have even remained in the ceremonial of the most developed religions of highly civilised peoples. ASHIEPATTLE: OR HANS SEEKS HIS LUCK 63 her kingdom is to be won in good matriarchal style by a riddle -contest. In all these cases we have the little forest-clearing and the hut, which is the characteristic dwelling-place of the witch. In Frau Holle we meet a well-dwelling old woman, who controls the weather and represents rather the goddess herself than her servant. She is associated with loaves and apples, and is friendly to the good and kindly maiden. She punishes the rude and unkindly, just as the goddess -witch Frau Trude punishes disobedient children. In Die sechs Schwdne 1 we have the usual type of witch living in a hut in the forest-clearing. She is not exactly hostile to the king's son, but marries her daughter to him. This daughter, as we are so often told, had learnt from her mother the Hexenkunste. She is opposed by the ' wise woman,' who assists the step-children. The story is really from the transition period, for while the king takes his bride home, we find his mother (as in many other tales) the real person in authority there. In Sneewittchen, Der liebste Roland, and Die zwei Bruder the witches are all workers of ill ; but in the first the bridegroom says to the bride, " Komni mit mir in nieines Vaters Schloss " ; in the second Eoland cries, " Nun will ich zu meinem Vater gehen, und die Hochzeit bestellen " ; and in the third the hostility of the witch appears to be especially directed against the hunter. In 1 Die seeks Schvxime is one of a series of Marehcn, like Die zwolf Bruder, Briiderchen und Schwcstcrchcn, Jorindc lond Joringel, etc., which points to the closeness of the feeling between brothers and sisters at the time when these Marehcn originated. There was a strong kinship spirit, which, like that of the Norse Gudrnn, often obscured the relation of man and wife. Indeed, we occa- sionally find what are apparently fossils of a kindred group-marriage in the sister tending the hut of a group of brothers. 64 ASHIEPATTLE: OR HANS SEEKS HIS LUCK the first two the descent is through the male ; in the third the lucky hunter kills the dragon, marries the king's daughter, and becomes ipso facto ' der junge Konig.' The opposition of the primitive matriarchal civilisation (with its elementary agriculture and domestication of the smaller animals) to a hunting population, generally with different marriage customs, should be borne in mind, if the attitude of the witch is to be at all understood. The hunter pursues Reh, Hirsch or Hirschkuh, probably animals sacred to some goddess, 1 and, failing to overtake them, finds himself landed at some witch's hut in a forest-clearing. Here the proprietress receives him, as may be expected, with anything but a friendly greeting. (Cf. Die Goldkinder and Die zivei Briider.) Of the witch in Die Robe, who lives in the orthodox manner, in a hut in a forest -clearing, it is not easy to determine the character. She serves at first to test the strength of the man's will, but when he at last surmounts all the difficulties and wins the king's daughter, it is to her castle that he comes, and there that the Hochzeit is held. We have thus the matriarchal law of descent. In De drei Viigelkens, the old magic-working fisher- woman; in Dersiisse Brei, the magic-working 'arte Frau'; in Der Krautesel, the ' altes hiisslich.es Miitterchen ' ; in Einiiuglein, Zweiiiuglein und Dreiduglein, the 'weise Frau,' who aids Zweiiiuglein ; in Die Nixe im Teich, the 'Arte mit weissen Haaren,' who overcomes the Nixe ; in Die wahre Braut, the ' alte Frau,' who performs miracles for the little maid ; in Spindel, Weber schiffchen 1 There are a considerable number of local saints — fossils of district-goddesses — who have the roe or stag as their attribute. ASHIEPATTLE: OR HANS SEEKS HIS LUCK 65 und Nadel, the ' Pathe,' who provides so handsomely for her godchild, — are all ' white ' witches, magic-work- ing old women, friendly to those who are respectful or kindly towards them. It will be seen at once from the cases cited that the ugly, mysterious old woman with magical powers is not necessarily hostile to mankind. Much that appears hostile is due either to our not appreciating the struggle between two civilisations, or to the real motive, sacrificial or social, of the witch's conduct having become obscured in the long course of tradition through minds charged with alien ideas. While the witch or priestess of the old civilisation is generally pictured for us as living alone in a hut within a forest-clearing, 1 we not infrequently find the priestly united with the queenly office. The queen is a witch 2 for example in Sneeivittchen and Die seeks Diener; in many cases the queen's daughter inherits her mother's powers, 3 and a struggle ensues in magic between the two (e.g. De beiden Kiinigeskinner, and practically in the Krctutesel). Yet in others it is a king's daughter who, by aid of her knowledge of magic, defeats the witch who would prevent Hans from winning her and her kingdom [e.g. in Der Trommler)* or uses magic for her own ends, as in Die Gansemagd. We may, I think, conclude that the primitive notion of witch was not that of an ugly 1 In much the same solitaiy manner as the medicine-men of the Indians in Sierra Madre. 2 The Fuegians have a legend that their men once revolted against the women, because the latter had monopolised tribal authority and the secrets of witchcraft (Fison and Howitt, Kamilaroi and Kumai, p. 105). 3 The inheritance of witchcraft by daughter from mother has been referred to in Essay IX. p. 8. As among the Germans, so among the Celts, magic power ran in the women of families (see Rhys, Hibbcrt Lectures, p. 199). 4 Sometimes mere]}' between one woman and another, as in Fundevogel. VOL. II F 66 ASHIEPATTLE: OR HANS SEEKS HIS LUCK old woman, a social outcast, who wrought only ill. But rather the idea was that of a wise woman, — a woman in not only spiritual but also temporal authority, — hostile indeed to a civilisation which brought customs of marriage and descent other than those upon which her influence and power were based. After, but only after, the sacerdotal comes the kingly element in the Mcirchen, presenting us with another side of the same old primitive civilisation, with its mother- right customs. In trying to appreciate the king of the Mcirchen, the reader must put on one side all modern impressions as to royalty, and return to the early Teutonic significance of the term. In the side valleys of Norway the wanderer may yet come across Gaards- mamd, who hold themselves somewhat aloof from their fellow -peasants, although to the eye of the observer their house and barns, their stock of cattle, and cluster of dependants are not more extensive than those of their neighbours. Questioned as to the cause of the indifferent, or even slightly contemptuous reception the stranger has met with, the neighbours will tell him with a smile that his hosts were SmaaJco?ige, or descendants of the old petty kings of the valley. During a day's march, within even the same valley, merely by crossing an arm or two of the forest, several such Smaakonge might in olden time have been found, and they approached very closely to the Mcirchen conception of a king. Not a man set in royal dignity far above swineherds and goose-girls, but one who could associate with them, nay, who might have risen from their ranks by some valiant act, which won him a bride and the kingdom. Indeed ASHIEPATTLE: OR HANS SEEKS HIS LUCK 67 the bride herself will not be above washing clothes or tending cattle, even if later ages, with other ideas of royal dignity, have added kingly robes and state chariots. "What Homer has done for the petty kings of Greece, who in truth had neatherds for friends and the pig-sties against their front doors, that mediaeval tradition has done for the Smaakonge of the Marchen. It has given to them much of the royal trappings of a far more developed civilisation, and decked them in the barbaric splendour of oriental monarchs. 1 A kingdom of at most a few square miles, a wife who is not immeasurably raised above the spinning and cattle -tending occupa- tions of her handmaidens, these are what Hans sets out to win. The mediaeval peasant in preserving the Marchen for us has not soiled the royal dignity by associating it with millers' lads and goose-girls, but, on the contrary, he has perverted the primitive simplicity of king and queen by adding to tradition some of his experience of the glories of Holy Roman emperors, dukes, and princes. In those tales wherein we find the splendour of the mediaeval courts, we may be fairly certain that the descent will be patriarchal, and that the bridal couple will go to church? But the primitive association of 1 Even in this respect it is well to bear in mind the weight of silver and silver-gilt ornaments that the wealthy peasants of both sexes of such a district as, say, the Upper Saetersdal, will still carry on their persons, even into the harvest-field. 2 Take the tale Der trcuc Johannes, with its account of ships and merchan- dise, of gold and silver and wrought metals, where we find the son inherits from the father and goes to church with his bride. In the later forms of Aschai- puttel — to be discussed more at length below — we find much royal grandeur, the king's son inherits and the bride goes to his home and to church. In Das Madchen ohne Handc, the descent is again patriarchal ; the king takes the bride 68 ASHIEPATTLE: OR HANS SEEKS HIS LUCK the Mcirchen king with, the Smaahonge is not unnoticed by tradition itself, for we read in De drei Viigelkens : — Et is wul dusent un meere Jaare hen, da woren hier in Lanne luter kleine Kiinige, da hed auck einer up den Keuterberge wiint. . . . Nay, even the thousand and more years since there were innumerable "little kings" — literally SmaaJconge — living in the land, may not be such a very poor chronological approximation of the story - teller, if we bear in mind the variety of estimates which far greater scientific authorities have formed of the age of the earth ! Admitting for the present that the Mcirchen kings belong to the type which we find in both primitive Scandinavian and Greek tradition, let us examine what material the brothers Grimm have provided for an appreciation of the mode of life which they led. In the first place, let us collect evidence of the association of kings and queens with those following humble, especially agricultural, pursuits. 1 For the moment putting on one side the character of Hans who marries the king's daughter, let us consider the type of bride selected by kings' sons. In Die drei Spinnerin- nen the king's mother chooses a bride for her son, because she believes her untiring with the spinning-wheel. Ich hore nichts lieber als spinnen, und bin nicht vergniigter als wenn die Rader schnurren ; gebt mir eure Tochter mit ins home and angels appear. In Kbnig Drosselbart we have a new patch on an old tale, the marriage is patriarchal and performed by a priest; so in Die sechs Diener, the prince takes his bride home and they go to church, etc. 1 In Der Vogcl Greif we note how valuable these little kings hold sheep, cows, and goats to be ; as among peasants a king's importance is measured by his herds. ASH1EPATTLE: OR HANS SEEKS HIS LUCK 69 Schloss, ich habe Flachs genug, da soil sie spinnen so viel sie Lust hat. Both the queen and the son hold that a poor but diligent maiden will make the most useful bride. In Rumpelstilzchen we have a variation of the same theme, a poor miller's daughter becoming the king's bride on account of her supposed capacity for spinning. In Spindel, Weberschiffehen und Nadel it is again the diligent spinning of the maiden which makes her, in the eyes of the king's son, at once the poorest and richest. But it is not only diligent spinsters who find, for economical reasons, favour in royal eyes, the bridal selection is frequently made, without any regard to rank in the modern sense, from all the maidens of the king- dom. In Die Huge Bauemtochter, which in itself portrays the close relations of king and peasants, the king marries the peasant's daughter for her wisdom. In De drei Viigelkens the king and his two chief counsellors marry, without any reason being considered apparently needful, three maidens herding their cows under the Keuterberg. In Die weisse unci die schivarze Brant the king marries a peasant girl, the sister of one of his servants. In Das Waldhaus the prince's bride is the daughter of a woodman. In Die drei Federn the king's sons bring home " die erste beste Bauernweiber," — and so forth, for the cases can be easily multiplied, and the brides are drawn from the whole range of women following simple domestic and agricultural avocations, which in those days were as important to kings as to other folk. In the Norse Vesle Aase Gaasepige there is a king who has so many geese that he 70 ASH1EPATTLE: OR HANS SEEKS HIS LUCK requires a goose-girl for them. The " KongS0nnen fra Engeland " marries this goose-girl. In Tro og Utro we find the king looking after his Gaard or farm ; he comes out to shoot the hawk which attacks his poultry, and he is keenly interested in the produce of his orchard. In Per og Petal og Esben Askelad, the Kongsgaard is described just like a farm. The king desires the removal of a hedge, and offers his daughter and half the kingdom to any one who will dig him a well with a supply of water all the year round, for "it is a shame that all his neighbours have such wells and he has not." That kings' daughters can be won by peasant lads and the sons of the people is, of course, the chief theme of the Mdrchen proper, and we may take as the typical illustration of it the kind's daughter who, in Der arme Mullerbursch, comes down to the mill to carry off the miller's lad as her husband. Indeed, Askelad marries the king's daughter quite as frequently as Aschenputtel the king's son. 1 Nor must it be thought that it is matrimony only that brings the low and high together. Princesses not only undertake menial offices, but find themselves quite at home in farmstead and household duties. In Die wahre Braut, as in the Norse Kari TrcBstak, the king's daughter tends the cattle ; in Die Giinseliirtin am Brunnen and Die Gcinsemagd, she acts as goose-girl ; in De beiden Kilnigeskinner she seeks employment at the mill, and is at once noticed by 1 Even among the Lapps, the princess is made to choose from the populace. Thus in The Silkivcaver cmd her Husband we read : " Once upon a time a poor lad wooed a princess and the girl wanted to marry him, but the Emperor was against the match. Nevertheless she took him at last, and they were wed together." ASHIEPATTLE: OR HANS SEEKS HIS LUCK 71 the queen, who walks out that way. In Allerleirauh the princess seeks service in the kitchen, where she soon gives evidence of her art in cooking, and, like the rest of the establishment, is brought into close contact with the king. The corresponding male picture is to be found in Die seeks Diener, where the king's son can transform himself into a swineherd and knows his work. As in Der Eisenofen, we find millers' and swineherds' daughters at hand read)' to obey the king's behests; as in Das Hirtenbublein, the king is prepared to adopt shepherd boys ; or, as in Die Gdnsemagd, he can appoint goose - boys their tasks ; or, as in HaaJcen Borhenshjaeg (the Norse Konig Broselbart), he super- intends the operations of the kitchen ; as in De wilde Mann, king's daughters are intimate with scullions and gardeners' lads, and may be punished for too great intimacy by being sent to work in the brew-house ; as in the Norse Aslceladden, somjik Prindsessen til at fagste sig, it seems quite natural to find the princess in the cow-stall. Nay, if further evidence be required of the simplicity of the life and surroundings of these primitive kings and queens, we can point to the manner in which, in Der Konig vom goldenen Berge and De beiden Kunigesl'inner, the royal women lice the heads of their consorts ! ! If it be said that these simple and primitive sur- roundings of royalty are merely additions of the mediaeval peasant to the Marchen drawn from his own 1 In the Norse tale Fugl Dam the twelve princesses are employed in licing the heads of the trold, and in Soria Moria Slot the princess lices the head of her husband, while the closeness of royalty to lice is emphasised also in the Lapp tale of The King and the Louse. 72 ASHIEPATTLE: OR HANS SEEKS HIS LUCK .surroundings, and not features of the life of kings in a long past age, it is pertinent to ask why the peasant introduced so little else of the life of his own day. Emperors and kings, Mother Church, monks and high ecclesiastics, knights and lawyers, were all familiar, and too familiar, to the mediaeval peasant, and quite as well calculated to impress his imagination. Yet how slight is the trace we find of them in genuine Marchen ! Why should the peasant have left out these familiar things and retained such unfamiliar features of the Marchen as tiny kingdoms, through several of which a day's journey would carry one, 1 and such a strange law of inheritance as that of the matriarchate ? There is little solution to be found for such problems, if we do not grant that the peasant simplicity of Marchen kings is as much an original characteristic of the civilisation to which they belong as the matriarchal law of descent itself. To appreciate better the position of women in these little kingdoms, let us look a little more closely at some of the queens and some of the kings' daughters. We have already noted the position of influence taken by the witch, and pointed out how witchcraft is frequently associated with the women of the royal household, and its secrets handed down from mother to daughter. 2 o 1 "Towards evening he came to another king's dwelling," is as frequent in Scandinavian as German tales. Cf. Bigc Per Kraem/mer with Das JFasser des Lcbens. Or, " When he had gone a good hour he came to a king's house " ; cf. Grimsborken. We find precisely the same profusion of kings in the Lapp tales of The Luck-Bird and The Humane Man and the Angel. 2 It is a general rule that the man, as in De beiden Kiinigcsk inner or in Briidcrehen und Schwesterchen, is no adept at magic, he must be aided by the woman. Only very rarely, as in Fitchcrs Vogel or Das singende springende Ldweneckerchcn, do we find a wizard. The dwarfs are the only males with a recognised power of working magic. ASHIEPATTLE: OR HANS SEEKS HIS LICK 73 We may now notice other features of woman's power, in particular with regard to marriage and inheritance. The influence of the queen-mother over her son is always great, and often extends to the choice or displacement of his wife. Thus the queen chooses the son's bride in Die drei Spinnerinnen, De beiden Kunigeshinner ("Unnerdes hadde de Kiiniginne ene Frugge fur ehren Suhn socht"), and Der Trommler. This is, indeed, part of the essential primitive primacy of the queen in the kingdom. In Der Rduber unci seine Sohne and Der Konig vom goldenen Berge we find kingdoms ruled by queens. The latter tale is of special significance, for the queen does not lose her kingdom by discarding her husband, but, on the con- trary, by marrying a second will obviously convey her kingdom to him. 1 In Der arme Miillerbursch, Die Erbsewprobe, and Die zwolf Jdger, we find princesses apparently seized of their own kingdoms, 2 and seeking husbands for themselves. In Das Mcidchen oline Hande and Die sechs Schtviine the king lives with his mother. In Der gute Handel, we see the king's daughter sitting by her father in the place of justice ; in Die iveisse Schlange, Das Rathsel, Der Konigssohn der sich vor nichts filrcktet, and Die sechs Diener, it is the princess herself who sets the task or propounds the riddle which is to win her and her kingdom. Now all this freedom and authority on the part of the woman — nay, the very existence of independent kingdom-con- 1 One is again reminded of Clytemnestra. 2 Note the importance which attaches to the illness of princesses. Such ill- ness threatened the loss of the heiress apparent, e.g. in Brudcr Lustig (twice) and Der Vogcl Grcif. 74 ASHIEPATTLE: OR HANS SEEKS HIS LUCK veying queens — was unfamiliar to the mediaeval mind. The primitive Aryans, however, whether Teuton or Greek, knew of such a system. The winning of the bride by a task done for her mother, for her father, or for herself, which is so frequent a feature of the Mdrchen, 1 is no idle invention of the mediaeval story-teller. It carries us back to a primitive form of civilisation common to Aryan, Hebrew, and Zulu. It is impossible to read De beiclen Kilnigeskinner without being re- minded of Jacob's service for Rachel and Leah, and feel that in the primitive form of the story the king's son won not the youngest, but all three daughters. Nor can we fully appreciate the tasks set by the old queen and her daughter in Die seeks Diener to would-be husbands, without comparing it with customs like those of the Bechuanas, among whom the wooer ploughs so much ground and brings so many oxen for his mother- in-law. The Mdrchen, to be understood, must be treated as a quarry in which are to be found the fossils of an antique civilisation, or rather of several successive antique civilisations. In the Teutonic Mdrchen, however, the period of mother-right appears to be the stratum richest in fossils. The king is king, because he is the son of the queen, because he is the queen's husband, 2 because he marries her daughter. His power comes to him because he is of, or belonging to, the queen or Kone. z The princess, as heiress apparent, is the keynote of the typical Mdrchen. 1 Typical examples in Die drei Sprachcn, Bat ErdmiinncTccn, and Dcr Vocjel Greif. 2 The Celtic term "wedding the kingdom" is a very apt illustration. 3 See Essay XI. later. ASH/EPA TTLE: OR HANS SEEKS HIS LUCK 75 Take Die zwolf Bruder, for example : here if the thir- teenth child be a daughter, she will take the kingdom, if a son, the brothers need not go out into the world. 1 Or again, consider Die drei Scldangenblatter. The princess conveys the kingdom under the, to us, unusual condition that, if she dies first, her husband shall be buried alive with her ; when she wearies of her husband, she offers marriage and her father's crown to the lover who has assisted her in killing her husband. The position of the king is precarious ; as in Der Konig vom goldenen Berge he has not only to win bride and kingdom by the exercise of his strength, but to maintain them by his strong arm. Most frequently he has not even any claim of blood or birth to cast a halo round his person. In this respect it will not be without interest to notice the character of the hero in the cases in Grimm's collection in which the princess and kingdom are won. Out of forty such cases we find the hero described seven times 2 as the son of poor parents, of a poor man, or of poor widow, etc., not including the cases in which three brothers of the lowly hero also obtain princesses as brides ; 3 in four cases the hero is a tailor, 4 in three a peasant's son, 5 twice a hunter ; 6 once in each case, 1 This appears to have heen also the original theme of the Norse De tolv Vildcender, and of the story of Lycaon, who, notwithstanding that he had many sons, was succeeded, according to Pausanias, by the offspring of his only daughter Callisto, a most surprising circumstance to the narrator. a Die drei Schlangenblatter, Der singende Knochen, Der Teufcl mit den drei goldenen Haaren, Der Gevatter Tod, Der Ranzen, das Eiitlein, unci das Homlein, Die vier kunstreichen Bruder, and Mdrchen von einem der auszog das Fiirchtcn zu lernen. 3 Die vier kunstreichen Bruder. 4 Das tapfere Schnciderlein, Die beidcn Wanderer, Vom klugen Schneider kin, and Der gldserne Sarg. 5 Hans mein Igcl, Der Vogel Greif, and Der starke Hans. 6 Dat Erdmdnnekcn and Der gelerntc Jdger. 76 ASHIEPATTLE: OR HANS SEEKS HIS LUCK broombinder's son, miller's lad, gardener's boy, drummer, and merchant's son. 1 Ascending in the scale, we find him four times a discharged soldier, 2 once a servant in a king's household, 3 once a count, 4 once a king, and nine times a kino's son. 5 On three occasions he is more especially described as a Dwmmling — once when he is a king's son, 6 once as the son of poor parents, 7 and once without further details. s On one occasion only he is simply a ' man.' 9 It will thus be seen that only in about one-fourth of the cases is the kind's daughter and her kingdom won by a man of royal or aristocratic blood. We are clearly in a world in which, between king on the one side and peasant and handicraftsman on the other, there are none of the intermediate ranks of mediaeval life. We miss almost completely the whole range of feudal nobility, civic authorities, and town patricians so characteristic of the Middle Ages. We see king's sons competing merely as equals with agriculturalists and simple craftsmen for brides and kingdoms. The right of the plebeian majority to compete for princesses is still more marked in the 1 Die zivci Briider, Der arnie Miillerbiirsch, Dc wilde Mann, Der Trommler, and Der K'&nig vom goldenen Berge, respectively. 2 Sechse kominen durch die ganze Welt, Bes Tcvfols russiger Brudcr, Bas blaue Bicht, and Bie zertanzten Schuhe. It is important to note that the hero of Bie Bienenkonigin, who is the king's son described as a Dummling in Grimm, appears in the Hessian version of the tale as a soldier. 3 Bie iceisse Schlange. 4 Bie Gdnsehirtin am Brunnen. 5 Bas Bdthsel, Bomrbschen, Bas Wasser des Bebens, Be Leiden Kiinigcskinner, Bie Bienenkonigin, Bcr Konigssohn der sich vor nichts fiirchtet, Ber Eisenofen, Die sechs Dicner and Bas Eselein. He is a king in Bie zwblf Briider. 6 Bie Bienenkonigin. 7 Marchen von einem der auszog das Fiirchten zu lernen. 8 Bie goldene Gans. 9 Bie Puibc ASHIEPATTLE: OR HANS SEEKS HIS LUCK 77 Scandinavian tales, "which in many respects have preserved a more primitive character than the German. Thus out of nineteen Norwegian tales in which the king's daughter and kingdom are won, it only goes twice to a king's son, 1 but five times to the son of poor folk, 2 twice to the son of farmer or peasant, 3 once to a miller's lad, 4 and once to a fisher-lad.' On the re- maining eight occasions it goes to Askelad, while on the ninth occasion on which it goes to Ashelad, he is one of the king's sons already included in our list. 7 ' Ashlad ' is the Norwegian equivalent for Dmnm- ling, the insignificant member of a family, on whom the drudgery of the household is thrust, s and it is of sig-nificance that kino-s' sons can also be Aslcelad and Dummling. If we go still farther north, to Lapland, we find kings' sons have entirely disappeared, and the plebeian character of kings is emphasised by peasant lads, poor boys, and scurvy -heads winning kings' daughters, and obtaining royal power. 1 Fugl Bam, and Om Risen, som ikke havde noget Ejertepaa sig. 2 Poor widow's sou in Enkcsonncn, Tro og TJtro, and Det blaa Baandet ; poor folk's son in Lillckort and Ecrreper. 3 Grimsborken and Jomfrucn paa Glasbergct. 4 Mge Per Kracmmer. 5 Be trc Prindscsser i Evidtcnland. 6 Om Askeladdcn som stjal Troldets Solvaendcr, Scngetcppe og Guldharpe, Spumingen, Soria Moria Slot, Be syv Folernc, Bet hnr ingen Kod med den, som alle Kvindfolk er forlibt i, Askeladden somfik Prindsessen til at logste sig, Per og Paal og Esben Askelad, and Jomfrucn paa Glasbergct. 7 Om Risen, som ikke havde noget Hjcrte paa sig. 8 Not without a secondary reference to one who sits stirring up the ashes and gazing into them — a dreamer. 9 Compare the Lap]) tales, The Silkiceavcr and her Eusband, Alder-tree Boy, Tlie Three Brothers, The Boy caul the Earc, The King and the Louse, etc. " Lousyhead " of the Lapp tales corresponds to Askeladden in the Norwegian tale of Be syv Folernc, whose head an old woman offers to lice for him when he sets ahout winning the princess. 78 ASHIEPATTLE: OR HANS SEEKS HIS LUCK Nor does this general competition for kingdoms, in which the king's sons have no claim on their father's kingdom, escape the old story-tellers themselves. They find a reason for it, namely, in the fact that kings' sons can themselves go and win princesses and kingdoms. Thus in the Norse tale De syv Folerne, after Ashlad has herded the foals, and so redeemed the princes, and won the princess and half the kingdom, we read : — " You have got half the kingdom," said the king, " and the other half you shall have on my death ; for my sons can win land and kingdoms for themselves, now they are again princes." It will be seen at once that if the king's daughter carried by custom the future kingship, the king had in the gift of his daughter's hand a valuable property to dispose of. By setting a high price upon it, demanding the fulfilment of some difficult task, he could more or less recoup himself for the loss of influence which followed on the appearance of ' the young king,' who not infrequently took half the kingdom. In the tales which bear the greatest marks of antiquity, it is the daughter herself who chooses her husband, or sets the task, or propounds the riddle, — sometimes in concert with her mother, — but in the later tales we see this power more and more usurped by the existing king — a first stage towards a patriarchal ownership of the women with a view to ownership of the property. Thus the task-setting by kings, such a curious feature of the fairy tale, receives its interpretation as a step in the economic evolution of primitive societies. We need no longer ASH1EPATTLE: OR HANS SEEKS HIS LUCK 79 look upon it as one of the many weird inventions of Marcherdand, It will not be without interest to note the phrase- ology in which the tales describe the passage of the kingdom to the successful wooer. Taking the German first, we find the following accounts given of the transfer of the kingdom to the hero — the lucky Hans. In Das Wasser ties Lebens the hero gets the lady's whole kingdom, and becomes Herr des Kbnigreichs at once ; in Der Vogel Greif and Der Gevatter Tod we are merely told that, as a result of the marriage, Hans becomes king. In Das blaue Licht, the soldier at once seizes the kingdom with his bride ; while in Hans mein Igel, Hans receives the kingdom from the old king. In three tales, namely. Mdrchen von einem der auszog das Furchten zu lernen, Die drei Schlangenblatter, and Die zwei Bviider, we notice that, as a result of marrying the princess, the plebeian husband is now entitled ' the young king.' There are five Mdrchen in which we are expressly told that the husband of the king's daughter got the kingdom or the crown on the old king's death : these are Die weisse Schlange, Die Bienenkonigin, Des Teufels russiger Bruder, Der gelernte Jd'ger, 1 and Die zertanzten Schuhe. Lastly, in Das tapfere Schneider- lein we learn that the hero received the king's daughter to wife and one-half the kingdom as marriage portion (Ehesteuer) ; in Die vier kunstreichen Briider that the king's daughter and half a kingdom were won ; and in Das Eselein that the half-kingdom at once, and 1 This Mdrchen is of particular interest as it seems to mark, even in small things, the joint ownership of the king and the king's daughter. So ASHIEPATTLE: OR HANS SEEKS HIS LUCK the whole on the old king's death, passed to the hero. We thus seem to see stages in the law of inheritance by marriage, e.g. the receipt of the kingdom at once with the bride, then the receipt of half the kingdom as marriage portion, and lastly, the title alone of ' young king ' follows the marriage, and the kingdom passes only to the young king on the old king's death. This right of the husband of the king's daughter to the kingdom at once, in the future, or in part at once, is well summed up in Die goldene Gans, where we are told : — Da ward die Hochzeit gefeiert, und der Dummling crbte das Reich. Sooner or later the bride conveys the kingdom, and this is the law of inheritance. But the king continues to hold the kingdom only so long as his wife lives, or if she be dead, until his daughter, the heiress apparent, conveys the kingdom or a part of it to the next young king. The law of inheritance which gives one -half the kingdom as marriage portion to the king's daughter, and presumably the other half on the old king's death, is practically universal in the Norse tales. Exceptions, like Herreper, occur, but in such cases we do not hear of the old king at all, the princess appears to have complete possession of the kingdom. Thus in the following thirteen tales : Om Askeladden som stjal Troldets Sdvaender, Sengeteppe og Giddharpe, Fugl Dam, Spurning en, Rige Per Kraemmer, Enkesswmen, Lillekort, De syv Folerne, Grimsborken, Tro og Utro, Per og Paal og Esben Askelad, Jomfruen paa Glas- berget, Askeladden som fik Prindsessen til at hgste ASHIEPATTLE: OR HANS SEEKS HIS LUCK 81 sig, and Det har ingen N®d med den, sown alle Kvind- folk er forlebt i, 1 — we are distinctly told that the hero received one-half the kingdom with his bride. Still farther north in Lapland we find in .such tales as Alder- tree Lad and TJie Bog and the Hare the same law of inheritance. Many things in Marchen are, of course, inexplicable on any rationalistic grounds. Much of the faith in magic — though not all — is chiefly of value to the folklorist as enabling him to appreciate the intellectual development of the minds in which such beliefs were current. But the social customs illustrated in the Marchen have nothing to do with magic ; they are not the mere topsy- turvy invention of story-tellers seeking after nonsense, for had they been they would not have been so self- consistent, nor spread with such uniformity from Italy to Lapland. They represent the social customs of the age in which the Marchen took their origin, and in that age we may safely assert that the law of inheritance was mother-right, — descent through the woman — and that the habits of the people were not so far removed from that primitive type I have dealt with in the essays on " Woman as Witch" and " Group-Marriage." The reader may here possibly remark that he has noted in the Marchen nothing of the sex-festivals or kindred- marriages discussed in the above papers. The reason for this is, that few fossil customs which are intelligible to a later age, and clearly offensive to its moral ideas, will be preserved by the oral tradition which circulates round 1 In this tale the other half of the kingdom is to follow on the death of the old king. VOL. II G 82 ASHIEPATTLE: OR HANS SEEKS HIS LUCK hearth and home. AVe have to seek for fossils which have been preserved by their being superficially unrecog- nisable ; we can find only indirect evidence of what the old forms of marriage were like. Thus a trace of the old kindred group-marriage may, I think, be found in the frequency with which in the Marchen a group of brothers marries a group of sisters. Thus in Die Bienenkonigin three brothers wander out and marry the three daughters of a kino- • 1 in Schneeweisschen und Rosenroth two sisters marry two brothers ; and in De beiden Kiinigeskinner we have distinct traces of the hero marrying all three king's daughters. In the more primitive Lapp tales we hear, as in The Tschuds and Russleleaf, of " two brothers who were married each to his sister " ; and, as in The Giant-bird, of the two lads who had one king's daughter between them to wife ; while, as in the German tales, the marriage of two or three brothers to two or three sisters is common, e.g. Tlie Tschuds in Sundegjeld. A trace of the old sex-festival may further be found in the tale of Die zertanzten Schuhe. Here twelve kings' daughters slip out at night through a mysterious forest to a wonderful Schloss, and dance with twelve princes. The old choral character of the marriage feast is evidenced in Der liebste Roland, where we are told that it was a custom in the land that all the maidens should come and sing in honour of the bridal pair. In Das singende springende Loweneckerchen we hear of the marriage-lights, and the bridal procession being accom- panied by many torches. In Der Konig vom goldenen 1 In the Norse Om Eisen, som ikke havde rwget Hjerte paa sig, no less than six brothers take as brides six sisters, king's daughters ; see also Essay XL below. ASHIEPATTLE: OR HANS SEEKS HIS LUCK 83 Berg the bridal fiddles and pipes resound ; while in both Der Konigssohn der sich vor nichts Jurchtet and Der Trommler we see that the marriage festival was in the evening or at night. Lastly, the hostility which the witches offer (as in Jbrinde and Joringel) to chaste maidens is not without its suggestiveness, if the witch be the degraded form of the old priestess of the goddess of fertility, and the witches' Sabbath a relic of the old sex-festival. Such a goddess of fertility actually crops up in the appeal of Dat Maken von Brake! for a husband to St. Anne in the Hinnenborg Chapel. It will be seen that the marriage of the Marchen is more akin to that of the free Friesian woman, with its choral song and torches by night, than to the sober ceremony of the church. Indeed I can only recall seven tales in which any reference is made to a religious ceremony at marriage, and the majority of these are late, because they are marked by a patriarchal law of inheritance. Thus in Der treue Johannes, Aschenputtel, Konig Drosselbart, De beiden Kunigeshinner, and Die sechs Diener we are dealing with kings or kings' sons, who take their brides to church and afterwards to their own home or kingdom. The wife rides off with her husband, and it is a Brautlauf of the patriarchal period, not an ancient matriarchal Heileicli with which we are dealing. The remaining two of the seven tales in which the church ceremony is referred to are those of Vom Jchigen Schneiderlein and of Die waJtre Braut, and in these the husband does 0-0 to the wife's home. The mention of the church in the first may easily be a later addition, and the casual reference to the priest in the last line of 84 ASHIEPATTLE: OR HANS SEEKS HIS LUCK the latter is not a primitive characteristic like the betrothal -kiss under the linden tree. Indeed, what business has a priest to be hanging about in the court- yard of a wonder-castle ? He is obviously an incon- gruity introduced in the course of tradition by a pious narrator, who thought that the consecration of the marriage would atone for the very heathen origin of the creature comforts the pair were about to enjoy. Yet the reader may object that, out of the five ' patriarchal ' Marchen with church marriages to which we have referred, one at the least, namely Aschenputtel or Cinderella, is a typical fairy tale ; and that in this typical tale the prince obviously inherits his father's kingdom, takes his bride to church, and afterwards to his own home. Why, then, is mother-right any more than father-right to be considered peculiar to the period when fairy tales took their origin ? AVhy is Cinderella, with its general currency and many versions, to be put on one side for Hans seeks his Luck ? To answer these questions, I must remind the reader that my thesis is not that all, but only that the majority of Miirchen take their rise in matriarchal not in patriarchal times ; and, further, that more than one Miirchen, which is now current in a patriarchal form, can be traced back to a version in which the distinctive features are matriarchal. This is peculiarly the case with Cinderella. In order to grasp this we must bear in mind how much stress ought to be laid on a comparative study of the Mar- chen of different lands, and how often a difficulty which arises in the version current in one land or district may be elucidated by that of another. Thus, take the Teutonic ASHIEPATTLE: OR HANS SEEKS HIS LUCK 85 giant, for example, lie is very strong, lie is stupid, lie eats men, and he possesses the curious characteristic, although a male, of suckling infants. 1 When we go north into Lapland, and then turn into Russia, we find the same strong, stupid, man-eating being, but the sex is now female, and the suckling no longer a matter of difficulty. 2 In this case the change is from male to female, but in the case of Cinderella the change is from female to male. When we pass from Germany to Nor- way, Ash-lad replaces Cinder-girl, and the prince who conducts Cinderella to church, and rides off with her to his paternal home, is replaced by the princess who bestows her hand on Askelad, and thus gives him the right to the kingdom. In other words, Cinderella is only a late, and we must even say perverted, version of Hans seeks his Luck. The main features are the same in the two cases, but the sexes of the chief characters have changed, and with the sex patriarchal custom has been changed to mother-right. In the German we have Aschenputtel despised by her two sisters, and sitting at home among the cinders. 1 In Derjunge Riese the giant suckles a man, and in Die Rabe lie has to go home to suckle his child. 2 Compare the stupid man-eating giantess in Aider-tree Lad, the giant- wife in Family Strong, Iwar's mother, etc., with Jaga baba and other Russian giant heroines. Nor is it only in Lapland and Russia where the sex of the giant is predominantly female, we find a great number of old Norse words for giantess with no male equivalents, e.g. gfjgr, stcssa, grydr, gifr, etc. These were Titanic women approaching to deities, and probably related to the tribal - mother, priestess, and goddess ideas to which we have referred in Essays IX. and XI. It is noteworthy that giants themselves, gigantcs, denote nothing else than "the produced." In mediaeval times they were invariably looked upon as the illicit produce of mortal women by unknown fathers, e.g. due to eating forbidden herbs, or to the " sons of god." The terms giganta cyn of Beowulf and gigant- mdcg of Gedmon suggest at once the kin-produce of a tribal-mother from the old cannibal days of the mother-age. 86 ASHIEPATTLE: OR HANS SEEKS HIS LUCK In the Norwegian * we have two elder brothers who thrust the menial work of the household upon Aske- lad, and scorn him as well. In the German all the maidens of the kingdom are summoned to a court ball, in order that the prince may choose a bride. "You, Cinderella!" say the sisters, "you, covered with dust and dirt, want to go to the ball, and yet you have no clothes ! " In the Norwegian the king's daughter, and, of course, half the kingdom, is set as a prize for any youth of the kingdom who can achieve a difficult task. Ashlad's brothers set out to try their luck, and Ashlad will go also. " You, too ! " cry the brothers, " you are fit for nothing better than sitting at home and poking in the cinders." As in the case of Cinderella, Ashlad goes all the same without his brothers knowing about it. In the German it is the spirit of AschenputteV s mother (as it is Cinderella's godmother) that helps her to win the prince, while her sisters are rejected. In the Northern version it is a legacy of AskelacVs father, a white witch he meets on the way, or the animals to whom he is kind, that help him to success, while his brothers fail. In the German Aschen- puttel's sisters return to find her seated in her rags among the ashes, and never suspect she has been at the ball, and this occurs on three occasions. On the last occasion she loses her shoe, which afterwards serves as a means of identifying her. In the Norwegian Askelad hastens back after the contest on each of the three days, throws off his fine clothes, and is found by his brothers 1 The titles of nine Norwegian tales about Askelad are given in the sixth and seventh footnotes to p. 77. The first, fifth, seventh, and eighth are of most interest for our present purpose. ASHIEPATTLE: OR HANS SEEKS HIS LUCK 87 sitting among the cinders. They tell him what has happened, how one finely-dressed youth has on the first two days nearly, and on the third day completely, achieved the task set. They never suspect Ashelad of being this youth. " I should like to see him, too," says Ashelad. In the German we have the attempt to find amono- the maidens of the kingdom the one whom the shoe will fit. All are examined, and none can wear the shoe. Finally, the king's son is told either by the sisters or by the father that there is one girl left, a dirty little miserable Cinderella, but she cannot possibly be the bride. The king's son insists upon seeing her, the shoe fits, and she becomes the royal bride. In the best Norwegian version (Jomfruen paa Glasberget) the task set is to ride up the glass-hill — possibly an ice- field — and receive a golden apple from the princess at the top. No one but Ashelad can ride any way up. On the first day he rides up one-third of the way, and the princess rolls a golden apple down to him, which lodges in his shoe; on the second day no one but Ashelad makes any progress, but he rides two-thirds of the w T ay up, and a second golden apple is rolled down to him, and lodges again in his shoe; on the third day he rides the whole way up, and takes the apple from the princess's lap. Then comes the search for the holder of the golden apples. No one is forthcoming. The king orders that " all who are in the land " x shall come to the royal residence in order that the apples may be 1 The examination of all the youths or of all the maidens of the ' king- dom ' at the king's dwelling, which occurs in German, Norse, and Lapp tales, is another good piece of indirect evidence as to the size of these primitive kingdoms. 88 ASHIEPATTLE: OR HANS SEEKS HIS LUCK found. It is in vain. The two last youths to come are the brothers of Askelad, and the king demands of them if there are no other youths in the kingdom. "Oh yes, we have a brother, but he certainly has not got the golden apples ; he did not leave the cinder heap on any of the days." — " It is all the same," said the king, " if all the others have come up to the castle, he can come too." Askelad comes and shows the apples. He receives the king's daughter and half the kingdom as reward. The reference to the lodging of the apples in Askelad 's shoe seems clearly to point to an earlier version, in which a search must have been made of all the shoes of the youths of the kingdom. The corre- spondence of Askelad with Aschenputtel would then, if possible, have been still more complete. In the Lapp version [Tlie Three Brothers) it is Rubbba, or scurvy -head, who, by fulfilling the last duties to his father, which his brothers neglect, receives the wonder-staff, and so is enabled to get fine clothes and a horse. The tale runs just like the Norse, except that the contest is now a jumping-match. The princess sits on a high stage, and the youth who can jump so high that the princess can press the signet-ring bearing her name on his forehead shall win her as bride. We have all the usual incidents of Ruobba sitting at home among the ashes, and his brothers coming back and recounting the strange rider's prowess, Ruobba's apparent ignorance, and the king's inspection of the foreheads of all the youths in his kingdom to find his daughter's name. The king, failing to find it, asks if there be no other lad in the kingdom, and Ruobba's brothers reply, " Yes, wc ASHIEPATTLE: OR HANS SEEKS HIS LUCK 89 have a brother at home, but we don't like to name the fellow, for he does nothing else but sit in the ashes and pluck out his scurf ; and, besides that, he was not at the contests." Ruobba is sent for, and the princess's name found impressed on his forehead. He reappears in his fine clothes, and the bridal feast lasts three full days. So far it will be seen the Northern version, with its Ash-lad in place of the Cinder-girl, is exactly parallel to the German, and is as widely spread. But the reader may ask : What reason, beyond the assumed older law of inheritance, beyond the disappearance of the ride to church with the prince, have we for asserting that Ashe- lad is the original version of Cinderella ? Why, after all, may not the girl have been converted into a boy, as the story passed northwards ? The answer is fairly conclusive. While, in the nineteenth century, the Brothers Grimm could find a variety of versions of the Cinderella tale, yet all the references to this tale from the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries in Germany itself point to an Ash-lad and not to a Cinder-girl. Thus Rollenhagen speaks of the wonderful tale of the " De- spised and pious Aschenpossel, and his proud and scornful brothers." More than one mediaeval preacher refers to the male Ashiepattle, and even Luther compares Abel and Cain to Aschenbrodel and his proud brother. 1 Thus, in Germany itself, the matriarchal form of the tale is seen to be the older. Xor is this transfer of sex and detail, so that they fit better with patriarchal customs, confined only to Cinderella. Allerleirauh, 1 For further references see Grimm, Kinder- und Haus-Marchen, Bd. iii. p. 38. Berlin, 1822. qo ASHIEPATTLE: OR HANS SEEKS BIS LUCK another patriarchal Mdrchen, in some respects akin to Aschenputtel, can also be traced back to versions in which a king's son lives as kitchen-lad under the stairs. Thus not only is Hans seeks his Luck the commonest type of Mdrchen, but even some of the most striking of the nursery tales which tell of the winning of princes by simple maids can be traced back to a matriarchal form. Cinderella, so far from being an argument against the theme of this essay, is seen on further investigation to strongly confirm it. Cinderella is only Hans in disguise, and the change of sex is merely the fashion in story- telling- following- the change in social institutions. o o o If the views expressed in this essay be correct, then we need no longer feel the people and land of our child- hood strange and false. As we read fairy stories to our children, we may study history ourselves. No longer oppressed with the unreal and the baroque, we may see primitive human customs, and the life of primitive man and woman, cropping out in almost every sentence of the nursery tale. Written history tells us little of these things, they must be learnt, so to speak, from the mouths of babes. But there they are in the Mdrchen as invaluable fossils for those who will stoop to pick them up and study them. Back in the far past we can build up the life of our ancestry — the little kingdoms, the queen or her daughter as king-maker, the simple life of the royal household, and the humble candidate for the kingship, the priestess with her control of the weather, and her power over youth and maid. In the dimmest distance we see traces of the earlier kindred group- marriage, and in the nearer foreground the beginnings ASHIEPATTLE: OR HANS SEEKS HIS LUCK 91 of that fight with patriarchal institutions which led the priestess to be branded by the new Christian civilisa- tion as the evil-working witch of the Middle Ages. All this and something more may be learnt by the elder, while little eyes sparkle and little cheeks grow warm over the success which attends kindly, simple Ashie- pattle in the search for his luck. XI KINDRED GEOUP-MAEEIAGE x Part I MOTHER-AGE CIVILISATION In things of this kind many points must be established before you can assign the true law of the thing in question, and it must be approached by a very circuitous road ; wherefore all the more I call for an attentive ear and mind. — Lucretius, Bk. vi. (l) In studying the natural history of the lower forms of life, we are at once impressed by the large part which the hunt for food on the one hand, and the gratifica- tion of the sex-instinct on the other, play in animal existence. The further we go back, also, in the natural history of man, the more dominant the same activities become ; in fact, the history of civilisation is largely a history of the origin and development of new activities serving to some extent to modify and limit the all- absorbing character of these primitive pursuits. But to trace this history of civilisation we require, in the first place, to have a knowledge of the stages through which the momentum of man's more primitive and animal 1 Originally read as a paper in 1S85, but now published for the first time. MOTHER-AGE CIVILISATION 93 instincts have carried him, — we must investigate his history in the days of his barbarism, when brute- appetites ruled his unconscious development, and he established customs and contracted habits still faintly shadowed in the language, ceremonies, and institutions of to-day. The control of the primitive appetites of the individual in the interests of the group, wherever and however it arose, was the germ of the first stable society, the genesis of morality. Hence if the soundest ethical theory makes no attempt to explain what men in general ought to do or forbear from doing, but describes how experience in a long course of ages has developed, and tradition maintained, a code of right and wrong peculiar to each individual human society, then to clearly under- stand our moral position to-day we must investigate its origin in the far past, when the gregarious instinct moulded the brute appetites of individuals, and the first social customs and institutions were established. Fundamental among these primitive social institutions is the organisation of sex, — and if the morally desirable be treated, not supernaturally, but sanely, as the socially desirable, we still see in the genesis of morality some excuse for that narrow, but sadly prevalent, state of mind which identifies immorality with anti-social con- duct in sexual matters. If the orioin of the maternal instinct can be described without the aid of super- natural terms, then the history of the appearance and survival of institutions and customs more and more fosterino; the oreo-arious instinct in man will suffice to show that naturalism is able to account for the develop- ment of morality by the extra -group struggle for exist - 94 KINDRED GROUP-MARRIAGE ence. We need not join in that despairing cry of, " We know nothing, let us believe all things." The frame of mind summed up in " reason starved, imagination drunk " is never profitable, least of all in social difficulties. Therein, as in a dynamical problem, an accurate knowledge of the initial conditions is essential to the discovery of a solution. The present essay attempts to describe some of those initial condi- tions as they concern the great problem of sex. It makes no attempt at solution ; it solely endeavours to remove certain misconceptions with regard to the pre- historic sex -relations among our Teutonic forefathers. But the reader who grasps that a thousand years is but a small period in the evolution of man, and yet realises how diverse were morality and customs in matters of sex in the period which this essay treats of, will hardly approach modern social problems with the notion that there is a rigid and unchangeable code of right and wrong. He will mark, in the first place, a continuous flux in all social institutions and moral standards ; but, in the next place, if he be a real historical student, he will appreciate the slowness of this steady secular change ; he will perceive how almost insensible it is in the lifetime of individuals, and although he may work for social reforms, he will refrain from constructing social Utopias. (2) The historian who wishes to reconstruct the prehistoric social relations of any civilised race has, like the naturalist, to build up the past from fossils. These fossils are, in the historian's case, embedded in language, in primitive customs, in folklore, in Weisthumer, in MOTHER-AGE CIVILISATION 95 peasant festivals, in children's jingles and dances, and to a lesser extent in the records of historians of other and more advanced nations, in primitive law, and in saint-legends and hero-sagas. Written history — or even pseudo-history, which for the sociologist is often more valuable — belongs to a comparatively late period of development, indeed to a type of tribal organisation which is characteristic of a patriarchal civilisation. We are compelled therefore to turn to fossils, if we wish to reconstruct the social habits of any earlier period. The difficulty of any such reconstruction does not, however, lie in the paucity of fossils, but rather in their superabundance ; above all, in the accurate determination of the particular stratum of social custom to which individual fossils belong. Personally, I have been impressed with the mass of material, and with the labour required to classify it, rather than disheartened by the faint traces which some writers appear to find of group-marriage and mother-age customs. 1 No legend, no bit of folklore of India, Greece, Scandinavia, or Germany which comes to my notice seems without new meaning when examined from the standpoint of an early sex-relationship, which is not that usually assumed for the Aryan peoples. The great struggle for sex -supremacy, — the contest between patriarchal and matriarchal folks, — this, one of the chief factors of human history, receives infinite light from the struggle of patrician Eome with the Etruscan nations, and indeed with the whole East, from the survival of an obscure 1 I hope later to publish essays dealing with the fossil evidence in folklore, hero-legend, primitive laws, and festivals, etc., the material for which has been already collected. 96 KINDRED GROUP-MARRIAGE tribe of Hebrews in that same East, and from the ulti- mate ejection of the more intensely matriarchal Celts from Eastern and Central Europe by the Teutonic races. Everywhere we have the survival of a more efficient civilisation, the triumph of a society in which the male was supreme, over one largely organised on a female basis. We may fully admit the superiority of Roman to Etruscan, of Hebrew to Philistine civilisation, and yet decline to draw any argument from it for the subjection of woman at the present day. To draw such an argu- ment would be as idle as to deduce the inferiority of man from the existence of an age in which customs and civilisation were chiefly the product of female ingenuity. We may fully admit the dark side of that mother-age, its human sacrifices, its periodic sexual license, its want of strong incentives to individual energy ; we may recognise these things, indeed, as the sources of its collapse before a more active social variation. But, at the same time, we must fully acknowledge the immense services which that early civilisation of woman has rendered to the human race. AVhat those services are may, I think, be concisely summed up in an analogy, thrown out as a mere fancy, but which yet may indicate some unrecognised law of growth. It is a biological hypothesis, which, however whim- sical, has yet been fruitful of results, that the prenatal life of the individual, from the development of the ovum through all the fetal changes, represents with more or less exactness in microcosm the development of the species in macrocosm from some very simple ancestral MOTHER-AGE CIVILISATION 97 form. The development of the child after birth seems to me to represent in a similar manner many features of the growth of primitive man from barbarism to civilisa- tion. Adopting the analogy, we may say that all that the child in microcosm learns from its mother, that humanity in macrocosm gained from the early civilisation of woman, — from the mother-age. The elements of social conduct with regard to the family and its group of friends, — hardly with regard to the state — the round of household duties and domestic foresig-ht, the besdnnings of religious. faith and the elements of human knowledge, above all, in a still earlier stage the use of language, — these the child acquires from its mother, and these mankind acquired largely — I will not say wholly — from a civilisation in which the female element was predominant. If our analogy be a true one, and if a mother-age preceding the father-age be admitted, then we should expect primitive language, above all the early words of relationship and sex, to throw much light on woman's civilisation. The object of this essay is to follow up this idea within the rano-e of the Teutonic lano-uao-es. © 00 The writer is far from unconscious of the hardi- hood of his enterprise. He is fully aware of the danger, and the outcry, which ever arises when the un- licensed poacher raids the preserves of the specialists. He is quite prepared to be told that not only is he a trespasser, but that he has committed diverse offences against established laws. Some of these he may be prepared to admit ; the more readily if the professional philologist will recognise, in turn, the importance of folk- lore and primitive custom in the interpretation of word- ; vol. 11 H 98 KINDRED GROUP-MARRIAGE for tlie philological is but one strand of the rope which the anthropologist twists from folklore, mythology, and hero -legend. If the philologist describes for us from language a state of society which receives no support from these other sources of knowledge, then we are, perhaps, justified in treating the present stage of his science with less respect than he claims for it. Above all, the time (1885) is an opportune one for a raid ; the bubble of the primitive Aryan leading a pastoral life in Asia has burst. We may look to Lithuania, or even to Scandinavia, with as much justification as to Asia for the home of the Aryan ; and it is hardly possible now to assert that the existence of a root in Teutonic dialects, which has no known equivalent in Sanskrit, is certainly a mark of late origin. It is impossible now to argue that the fundamental idea attached to such a root must be of a later growth than a primitive Aryan civilisation •of a patriarchal type. Let us be quite clear as to the real issue involved, for it is a crucial one. If the interpretation of the names of relationship as given by the professional philologists be correct, then there never was a mother-age ; or all its words of relationship w T ere completely extinguished under a later patriarchal regime. It is not a question of change of use, but of the fundamental ideas connected with the roots of the words used for relationship. The change of use would be intelligible, every word has a long use- history. The extinction of every word marking such all- important relations as those of sex is one that the sane anthropologist will never admit ; and the sole alternative, if the philologists have really described the civilisation MOTHER-AGE CIVILISATION 99 of the primitive Aryan, is to give up an epoch of woman's predominance. Now I fancy that the philologists, however much they may believe their conclusions to flow from the principles of their science, have really adopted their interpretations because they fitted in with an erroneous anthropological conception, widely current when philology was in its in- fancy, namely, that human civilisation arose with a fully developed patriarchal system. This idea, shared by the Grimms, and not a real science of language, has, I venture to think, been the keynote to the philologists' interpreta- tion of the Aryan words of relationship. They sought to confirm a social system they had adopted on ex- traneous grounds, and they evolved a delightful picture of a primitive Aryan family, coloured by their acquaint- ance with the Roman patria potestas and with the Hebrew feeders of flocks. A little further investigation o might have shown them that Hebrew and Roman were not general types but exceptions amid the populations which surrounded them. In fact, philological interpretations appear to me to neglect a sound anthropological principle, which I will ask the reader of this essay to bear in mind throughout the perusal of it, namely : For the primitive human being the chief motives to action are the desire for food and the instinct of sex. Hence the meanings of the early words for relationship must be sought in the sex-functions of their bearers — the most primitive of all ideas — and not in their domestic or tribal occupations. 1 1 It is instructive to note how very large a part of the specific cries of animals have relation to the same motives. KINDRED GRO UP -MA RRIA GE (3) I will commence my subject by laying before the reader what may be termed the usual interpretation of the chief Aryan words of relationship, such an interpreta- tion as will be found in the writings of Jakob Grimm, Max Midler, or more recently and completely in Deecke's work, Die deutschen Vevwandschaftsnamen. To the latter book I owe much help in the suggestion of Aryan roots, little or nothing in the matter of interpretation. My interpretation is principally based on the manner in which Old Saxon and Old High German words of relationship and their cognates are glossed in early manu- scripts. Collections of these glosses have been published by Graff and Schmeller. The patriarchate assumes a tribal father or family- head ruling a group of human beings, who are more or less completely subjected to his authority. The mission of woman in such a group is a household one, and the wife is often scarcely distinguishable from a cluster of maids and concubines, who assist her in her labours. The daughters of the household are entirely in the power of the father, who sells or gives them away at his pleasure. On the death of the father, either a new tribal father is chosen, who takes the full authority of the old, and in many cases his wives (possibly even if he be the son), or else the group breaks up into new family groups, each headed by a son, among whom the father's property is distributed. The women of the house do not inherit property, but are property, passing from the hands of the father into that of brother or husband. With this rough draft of the patriarchate before us, let us examine how the words of relationship have been interpreted, con- MO THEN- A GE CI VI LIS A TION fining ourselves to the chief terms, and these principally in their Teutonic forms. Mann, man, simply denotes the thinker ; Weib, wife, the weaver ; Braut, bride, is supposed to be con- nected with a Sanskrit root b'rud, meaning to veil, and therefore conveying the same notion of subjection as Latin nubere. The root hi, as in Heiratli and Heim, denotes house, and marriage is the foundation of a new house or home. Vermdhlung marks the formal ceremony of marriage, so-called from its taking place before the old folk-assembly or Mahal. Vater, father, is the ruler, feeder, or protector. Mutter, mother, is the measuring or managing one, from a root ma, to prepare or construct. Tochter, daughter, is ultimately deduced from a root d'ug to milk, and signifies the milker. Bruder, brother, is the possessor, the protector, namely, of the Schwester or sister, who, according to Deecke, is the dependent one, the one who by nature and blood belongs to the brother. Thus Deecke makes the terms brother and sister correlatives from the very beginning. The sister is the ruled one, for whom the brother is the legal representative and has the Nachstrecht. One more example of this method of interpretation, namely that of Wittwe, widow. This is derived from the Sanscrit vid'ava, the woman without a d'ava, which appears in late Sanscrit for man, and has been connected with a root meanino; sacrifice. Thus the widow is the woman who has no one to sacrifice for her — to perform sacrifices for the household being assumed to be the duty of the husband. We may stop here to remark that the word widow has cognates in all Aryan tongues, but KINDRED GRO UP- MA RRIA GE d'ava, either as a man or a sacrificer, appears in no recognisable Teutonic form ; while, according to the evi- dence of Roman historians, not only the seers, but the sacrificers among the early Teutons were women. 1 It is clear, I think, that the above interpretations, which might easily be largely multiplied, have been invented with the patriarchate in view, and are not solely the outcome of purely philological investigations. In addition to the above words I might cite a whole series like vedcljan, wed, a widely - spread root in Scandinavian dialects, denoting to yoke, or bind, and so to marry ; Ehe, a legal or binding contract, and so a marriage ; kaufen, to buy, i.e. to buy a wife, and so to marry. These and many other such words undoubtedly do point to a patriarchal regime, but they are of very late origin, and we can almost mark their first use as words of sex. Nothing to my mind is more suggestive of the danger of specialism in anthropology than such a philological scheme as may be found in the concluding pages of Deecke's book. A complete patriarchal family system is worked out for the primitive Aryans on the basis of such interpretation of the terms of relationship as those I have just indicated. We find an elaborate code of duties for parents and children, for uncles, aunts, and brothers-in-law, developed from the supposed roots of their names. Did space permit me to quote the whole of it, my readers would, I think, wonder with me how complex society had grown, and how multifarious 1 It is worth noting that there is much anthropological evidence to show that most early sacrifices were made by women and not by men. MOTHER-AGE CIVILISATION 103 the rights and duties of its members had become, before it occurred to any one to give those members names. (4) Let us now turn to the matriarchal system of primitive life, and, after sketching its broad outlines, inquire what evidence there is for supposing the words of relationship and sex to have taken their origin in such a stage of social growth, rather than in the patriarchal. It is in a period of kindred group-marriage that I find myself forced to seek for an explanation of these words. It must be remembered that what we briefly speak of as the mother-age covers several successive phases of civilisa- tion, and of such phases those of group -marriage are among the earliest. Without dogmatising, I may suggest tentatively that the lair or den originally provided by the mother for child-bearing and rearing, developed in comfort to such an extent that the sons preferred staying by the mother and taking part in the elementary agriculture of the women to hunting on their own account. This led to complete promiscuity, or at least seasonal pairing, being succeeded by normal conditions, first of brother- sister and afterwards of kindred group-marriage. Be the source of these conditions, however, what they may, the earliest mythologies and folk-customs distinctly point to the first permanent relations of sex being those between kindred ; and this view is confirmed also by the Teutonic words of relationship. The most primitive theogony is that of Mother Earth and her Son. The latter is usually depicted as an agriculturist, and not infrequently as killing or emasculating his father, who, if he can be identified, is of the wild, 104 KINDRED GROUP-MARRIAGE barbaric, hunting or giant-type. 1 Nearly as old is the mythology which supplements the mother-goddess by a brother as spouse. Much later than either comes as deity a patriarchal All-father ruling a kindred group. I cannot now enter upon the causes which led to the termination of the brother-sister sexual relation, but there is considerable evidence to show that there was a differentiation first of the elder sister, and that the social prohibition was only gradually extended to the younger. As the social unit enlarged, we find a group of men, brothers or cousins in blood, having sexual relations with a like group of women, who may or may not be blood relations of the men. This is the system I would refer to as that of kindred group-marriage. Evidences of its existence are still to be found in several Australian races. In these cases the men of one tribe have wives from the women of a second, or in some cases they are co-husbands of all the women of a second. Yet although this group-marriage is exogamous, at certain great tribal festivals the men and women of the same tribe indulge promiscuously in what at another period would be pro- hibited intercourse. This interesting fossil of the tran- sition of group -marriage from the endogamous to exogamous type is of special value, for it illustrates a common feature of kindred group -marriage — the custom of periodical gatherings which are at the same time sex- festivals. These meetings for the purpose of reproduction are singularly characteristic of group-marriage, and would seem to indicate that in the distant past the sex-instinct 1 The fact that the son in hoth Celtic and Norse mythology is represented as breaking the ground with a stone hammer or axe is suggestive of the period of such mother-son theogonies. MOTHER-AGE CIVILISATION 105 among human beings was either periodic or periodically exercised. Such festivals would naturally result in a majority of births occurring at a stated period of the year, and there is some evidence to corroborate this. 1 However this may be, the great sex -festivals of the stage of civilisation to which I am referring must be kept carefully in mind. In different parts of Teutonic Europe these festivals were at different dates, and probably depended to a great extent on the early or late arrival of spring ; their general features remain, indeed, markedly alike, whether they take place in April or June. 2 There is always a common meal, followed by a sacrifice, occasionally with traces of human victims, to the goddess of fertility ; then the group transact their judicial business, if so it may be called — the kin-talk — whence ultimately arose the principles of the maege- lagu. Then came dancing, always of a choral nature and principally the function of the women ; finally, the night falls on a scene of license. The meeting-place for the festival is either a hilltop, a sacred tree, or 1 It might throw some light indeed on the reason why all the males of the Irish Ultonian tribe underwent their coiivade at the same time. 2 Such sex-festivals are almost universal. Robertson Smith (Kinship and Marriage in Early Arabia, p. 294) gives an account of Arabian sex-festivals to a mother-son deity, with much evidence of polyandrous customs. Schiltberger in his Reisebuch of 1484 tells us that in " Chonig Soldan's " land sexual freedom was allowed to the women on Friday, which was their feast-day ; and neither husband nor any one else could hinder them " wann es also gewonhaitt ist." In the Middle Ages we find many fossils of these sex-feasts in semi-heathen festivals. Thus it was not till 1524 that Ferdinand abolished the bacchanalian dances of the women from the public brothels with the Viennese craftsmen round the fires in the great square on St. John's Eve. The same schone Fraucn, always by right and custom, attended the public dances on great feast-days in many mediseval towns. But to enter into this subject would carry us too far into the folklore evidences for primitive group-marriage. io6 KINDRED GROUP-MARRIAGE the cleared space by spring or Brunnen. The group itself occupied a palisaded or fenced dwelling, and appears to have had considerable social and some amount of defensive organisation, — probably a leader, in case of fighting, was chosen by the whole group. From this leader ultimately arose the father as tribal father (before the father as family -father), and so the patriarchal system. Round the fenced dwelling we should find the common land of the group tilled for its common benefit and used for the group cattle, and probably a more or less ample girdle of wood separating one settlement from a second. Under the patriarchal system the whole develops into the Mark, which receives a new significance when its customs are interpreted in the light of group-marriage. Each district had its particular mother-goddess, who may have been common to several groups which had branched off from a common parent group. This goddess, whether called Nerthus, Berchta, Gode, Fru, Hilde, Walpurga, or Verena, was essentially a goddess of fruition. She is the source of fertility in land, in animals, and in human beings ; she is both a goddess of agriculture and a goddess of love. She favours the crops, aids women in childbirth ; and yet her worship is associated with what appeared to a later ag;e as the wildest forms of license. Furthermore, the primitive savagery of this early form of human society is marked by the underlying element of cruelty to be traced in the nature of Berchta, Gode, or Hilde. The servants of these goddesses were priestesses, or, at a later date, men dressed as women ; and the traces we MOTHER-AGE CIVILISATION 107 find of sibyls, prophetesses, and medicine-women in the primitive groups are of striking interest. 1 Among the early Celts many of the groups seem to have been called after the goddess as primeval tribal-mother. 2 I have not yet been able to identify any Teutonic tribal name as derived from a goddess, but certain names appear to originate in a female name which may possibly be that of a forgotten goddess. 8 On the whole, it is surprising how many Celtic and Teutonic genealogies end in a female name ; and many more will probably be found to do so, when the pedigrees are studied with this possi- bility in view. The representative of the tribal-mother, the female head of the group, was the depositary of tribal custom and religion ; and through her the pro- perty of the group descended. Without realising this law of descent, the tragedy of Agamemnon and Aegisthus, and the fairy tales of Ashiepattle and Hans, become alike unintelligible. To kill the king and marry his wife was to win the kingdom ; to marry the king's daughter was to obtain the right of succession. The earliest and most bloody incidents of legend and primi- tive history turn on the contest between this law of descent and that of paternal inheritance. The latter survives in the struggle, but Titanic female figures, gallantly fighting for the former and sadly misrepre- 1 The Celtic goddess Brigit, referred to in a ninth-century glossary, had all these attributes — operum alque artificiorum initio, Rhys cites of her. She was also tribal-mother of the Brigantes as well. Later her attributes are transferred to St. Bridget. 2 To trace the tribal origin back to a goddess was a very common Aryan custom, e.g. Venus as Gcnctrix Aencadum, tribal-mother of the Romans. 3 I suspect a goddess, Ama-le the "little mother," at the bottom of the A mailings. Ubte was tribal-mother of the Burgimdians, and the goddess /I if of the Billings, etc. io8 KINDRED GROUP-MARRIAGE sen ted by the bards and chroniclers of patriarchal days, loom in shadowy greatness out of the pre-history of every Aryan race. If we turn to the status of men in the kindred marriage group, and wish to measure its significance, we must remember that its evolution is spread over long centuries ; and as we near the transition to the patriarchal civilisation, the power and influence of men at first gradually and then rapidly increases. Yet in the full bloom of the group -marriage period, their influ- ence on custom and tradition must have been compara- tively small, even death and disease are represented by female deities, — the wind, the sea, the earth, and all the powers of nature are in the earliest folk-tradition god- desses. The gods, so far as they had any existence, appear to have taken the form of temporary human lovers of the goddesses, the transitory male element need- ful for fertility, but then destined to disappear. Man, ever moulding the divine to his own pattern, creates first the goddess as tribal-mother, later her son as god, and only as his own institutions develop is the wandering- lover, 1 the hero, raised to the position and authority of All-father. The male element step by step asserts itself. If the reader object that this scheme of a primitive mother-age civilisation is far more elaborate than any- thing the philologists have attempted to spin out of Aryan roots, the answer must be that it is not drawn 1 The uncertain paternity is not always even ascribed to man, but to beast or bird. Compare such primeval forms as Gaea and Uranus, Helja goddess of death (a much older and more widely-spread conception than the Eddie Hel, daughter of Loki), the Celtic Don or Dea with her very shadowy hero-husband Beli, — which strike one at once amid the later elements of the patriarchal pantheons. MOTHER-AGE CIVILISATION 109 from such a source. It is reconstructed from the fossils to be found in folklore, in fairy tales, in hero-legend, in primitive law, and in other strata of human pre-history ; and it appears to the writer as the one system which makes them self-consistent and intelligible. It is a system which puts a new and thrilling interest into the stories which delighted our childhood, whether they were drawn from Eoman history, the Bible, or our beloved Grimm. The problem is not to deduce the mother- age from philology, but to decide whether the results of the latter are really inconsistent with the existence of such a civilisation as I have briefly sketched. What has been indicated, however, as the system deducible from Teutonic fossils receives much confirmation when we study the fossils of oriental mythology and folk-custom. In the East the mother-age civilisation developed into what may be literally termed a matriarchate. There the elaborate relioious sexual feasts far excelled their fainter Teutonic parallels. And yet we at once recog- nise precisely the same institutions as we find por- trayed in Teutonic witch-gatherings, and shadowed in the peasant customs and festivals of modern Germany ; the same predominance of the female element, the same choral dancing, the same human sacrifice, the same worship of fertility, the same identification of goddess and priestess, and the same sexual cult. 1 As type of such an Eastern cult, we may briefly refer to the important festival of the Sakaes, held in Babylon 1 Organised prostitution is frequently described as a result of the subjection of women, but a study of the folklore of peasant festival and spinning-room, and some acquaintance with the history of religious prostitution would, I think, convince the unprejudiced that it is a strange survival of the mother-age. KINDRED GROUP-MARRIAGE in honour of the great goddess Mylitta — essentially a mother-goddess of fertility. The festival lasted for five days from the ninth of July, during which time complete license ruled among the people. The festival was presided over by the richly -clad priestess of the goddess, the Biblical woman in scarlet, "the mistress of witchcrafts," who represented the goddess herself. She sat enthroned on the mound which for the time was the sanctuary of the deity, with the altar with oil and incense before her. To her came the hero-lover represented by a slave, and made homage and worshipped. From her he received the symbols of kingly power, and she raised him to the throne at her side. As her accepted lover and lord of the sex-revels, he remained for the five days during which the law of the goddess prevailed. On the fifth day, the hero -lover is sacrificed on the pyre. The male element had performed its function, and, like Heracles, passed away in fire. 1 Every stage of this — far less connectedly and less elaborately, it is true — finds its parallel in Teutonic witch -gatherings, and down to the derivation of the kingly power from the woman can be traced in Ger- manic custom and folklore. Our fossil reconstruction is not peculiar to one narrow field of civilisation ; the strongest evidence for it is to be found throughout oriental myth and tradition. I have spent consider- able time in describing these phases of mother -age civilisation, because they will be less familiar than the patriarchal to many of my readers ; and without 1 The whole inner meaning of the festival is well illustrated by Bachofen in Die Sage von Tanaquil, especially in relation to the mother-age among the Eastern nations. MOTHER-AGE CIVILISA TION acquaintance with the chief features of the mother-age, it is impossible to judge the philological evidence in its favour. If the words of sex and relationship will not bear a matriarchal interpretation, then the idea of a Teutonic mother-age must be for ever abandoned. Part II GENERAL WORDS FOR SEX AND KINSHIP Die Menscheit bezahlt jedes neue Gut mit dem Opfer eines friihern. I shall commence with words marking the simplest form of sex-relation. The two most widespread con- ceptions of sex — conceptions which I have found in very distant and diverse quarters — are associated with two simple household operations. It would not probably be safe to suggest either as really the antecedent notion. The first is the creation of fire, the second the pounding or primitive miller's work with rammer or pestle and mortar. 1 Very possibly both operations are radically identical. The creation of fire is associated in the savage mind with a process which must have apjDeared of surpassing mysteriousness. By twirling a stick in a hollow in a block of wood, fire, an absolute new thing was brought into existence. The generation of fire and the genera- tion of life were associated in name together, the origin of life resembled the origin of fire." The word kindle 1 There is an excellent representation of a woman with a primitive mill on a misericord in Beverley Minster : see E. Phipson, Choir Stalls, PI. 95, 1896. 2 In Sanskrit we have math, manth, for kindling fire by friction ; the word manth also means to churn, manmatha, love, the god of love, and x>ramdtha is violence, rape. GENERAL WORDS FOR SEX AND KINSHIP 113 (Scotch kendle), still retains this double meaning, and the notion of heat as a generating power is widespread. Compare, for example, Gothic Brunsts, German Brunst, with its double use. ( 1 ) The root at the basis of kindle is the one to which I wish first to refer. This root is Sanscrit gan or gen, Teutonic, kin or kan. It denotes, perhaps, more fre- quently bring forth than procreate ; although it would be difficult to assert that one meaning is more primitive than the other. The Sanscrit ga, as well as the German kei or kyn, denote rather birth than procreation, and the same remark applies to Latin gigno and Greek yevw ; still the latter sense appears to be frequently associated with these words. 1 Modern German keimen, O.H.G. chinan, M.H.G. ki?ien, to bud, to burst, to open, expresses the idea. That which opens or buds is the kone, O.H.G. qvind, Goth, qveins, O.N. qvdn, and our English queen. The woman is thus named after her function of on vino; birth, one of the most obvious and primitive distinctions between man and woman. I am inclined, however, to believe that a primitive meaning of kone was womb, for I find that so many early words for woman have this double meaning. Thus Latin cunnus is used of the womb and of a strumpet, matrix of the womb and of a female animal kept for breeding. The Bavarian Ids is used in all the senses of both cunnus and matrix, while fuel is used for woman and womb. Otfrid uses einkun ne of the bishop who is to have one wife. The peasants 1 The word generation itself in its varied meanings well illustrates the several notions attached to the root. Compare Greek yevirwp, Latin genitor for begetter, father. VOL. II I ii4 KINDRED GROUP-MARRIAGE in the Middle Ages termed the priest's concubines pfajfenkunnen, ultimately corrupted into pfajfenhiilie ; the change hiihe, hunne suggests another origin than cow for English Jcine, the breeding females. Ayrer, in one of his Fastnachtspiele, terms the sexton's daughter, Jcirch- ners hiinne, and hunne used for womb can hardly be other than a variant of hone. We may note also A.S. haemed- rif glossed nupta mulier, matrona, where rif is literally womb, and the word haemecl is glossed coitus. Thus the primitive identification of the words for woman and for her organ of sex is very widespread. The hone is accord- ingly the woman in respect of her power of giving birth. Although outside the Scandinavian hone is only pre- served in Teutonic dialects at the present day in our English queen as the head or female ruler on the one hand, and in quean, a worthless woman or strumpet l (A.S. hor-cwen, Shetland, hure-queyn) on the other, still these two fossils are in themselves highly sug- gestive. They mark, in the first place, the predomi- nance of the hone in primitive times, and, in the second place, the freedom of her sexual relations. The primi- tive name for woman has been retained for two senses which specially mark her early status. The corresponding Greek word is ywr), but its Latin equivalent has, according to some authorities, only been preserved in the name of the goddess Venus. Thus Venus is the woman par excellence. To term a goddess simply " The Woman is a peculiar feature of mother- age mythology. Thus Sanskrit gnd, Zend ghena, is the goddess or divine woman. We may also notice the 1 Qucnie, quean, queyn, is still used in a good sense in Scotland. GENERAL WORDS FOR SEX AND KINSHIP 115 Greek Koprj, the Maid, as a name for Persephone, and the Norse Frud, the Fraupar excellence. Similar instances can be readily collected from Teutonic and Celtic sources, and they may, indeed, be paralleled by the use of the expression, the Virgin, for the mediaeval goddess Mary. The senses woman, tribal-mother, queen, priestess, god- dess, are all closely correlated in these primitive words, and we see one almost growing out of the other. Venus as the Latin form of yuvq is strengthened by the Latin venter, the womb, corresponding to a primitive Greek form, yivrep, which actually occurs for yacmjp, the belly or womb. The like addition of a dental brings us from the root hyn to a common Teutonic (German, Norse, and English) term for the female organ of sex. Passing now to what is brought forth, we have a long series of Aryan words marking the relationship of the womb, and many of the greatest interest. Thus we have Greek yevos, Latin genus, Teutonic chint, chnuat, hint, hind and kin, 1 while hnabe, hnecht, and knight are prob- ably also associated therewith. Anglo-Saxon gives us 1 I may specially note the phrase kith and km. It might be supposed that kith was mere repetition of kin. But I think the phrase has a deeper meaning. Gothic, qithus, O.H.G. quiti, quid, A.S. cvithc, O.N. qvidr, denote the female sex-organ and the womb ; Scotch kyte, the belly, and possibly kittle, a strumpet, may be cited. Gothic qithuhaft, means pregnant. Thus kith and kin literally denotes the womb and its fruit, the konc and the kunni, the woman and her offspring, i.e. the whole tribe. O.H.G. Cutti a flock as of sheep, stands to kith much as kin to kunne, probably it originally only denoted the product of the quiti. In the same sense are to be noted O.H.G. chizi or kida, O.E. kith, English kid, and Bavarian kitze, female goat, standing in close relation to quiti and kith. Possibly Gothic gaits, O.H.G. gaiz, O.N. geit, A.S. gat, Eng. goat, may have relation to gat (see later) as kid to qithus. A quite parallel word is A.S. team for family, offspring, preserved in our English team, formerly of pro- geny, now chiefly of horses. A.S. tymen, tcman, Eng. teem, is to bring forth, to be stocked or charged. 0. Fries, tarn, O.H.G. zoum, German zaun, is a staked row, stockade, or fence. O.H.G. zeman, is to congregate, probably with the same sexual notion as in gather and gat, treated of below. n6 KINDRED GROUP-MARRIAGE cneos and cyn, gecynd (race, or generation), with the noteworthy compounds, Gecynde-lim, womb, or lit. kin- limb ; cyne-hlaford, prince, but originally without doubt the kin-chief or elected leader of the group, the prototype of the tribal-father ; cyne-lond, cynerice, cynepeod, king- dom, but literally the kin-land, the common property of the kin-group, which only later passed from the kin to the king. O.H.G. gives us hunni for kin, and O.N. kundr for son and Jcund for daughter (see p. 118 ftn.) Konemdcis one of the earliest words for blood relationship, but this is primitively a relationship of the womb, and kin and kinship are given by kunnischaft,kun7iiling (neighbour), and kun- nizala — all marking the woman as the first idea of any relationship at all. In a sentence, the woman, in virtue of her womb-right, is head of the kin, the queen or chief of the household — a position of power, blood-relation, and sex well illustrated in the use of the word queen in queen- bee. If we try to find a male correlative to kone, we are thrown back on hone-man, kon-ing, kbning, kun-ing, kbnig, and king. The words convey no marital relation to the kone, no sense of authority or power (not the "can- man " of Carlyle !), but simply the conception of one belonging or attached to the kone. The derivation of king, kbnig is sometimes asserted to be the man of kin or race. I would draw attention to the Norse kone (O.N. qvon and qvchi) woman, and O.N. kon?', chief, king, relative, which occurs as well as the more familiar forms konungr, kongr, king. The O.H.G. spelling is kuning or chuninck, as a rule, and of kone, generally quena, but chone, chena, both occur. M.H.G. gives us kon and kone for woman, wife, and generally kilnig GENERAL WORDS FOR SEX AND KINSHIP 117 for king, but also honing and konig. The form kunne, as in einhunne and pfaffenkunne, is to be noticed. Even if konig is to be deduced from kunni, and not directly from kone, it must be noted that the king is king in virtue of his being the son of the queen, i.e. one of the kin, and not because he is a ' man of race ' or of noble descent. The identity, indeed, of kunne, the womb, and kunni, kin, is illustrated by Arabic batn for belly and kin, and rehem for womb and kin. The affix -ing in a variety of O.H.G-. words usually marks " the son of." Thus we have in the primitive idea of king in all probability only the idea of the offspring of the kone. The kuning derives his rights from the kone, the king is evolved from the leader in war — the cyne- hlaford — of the old kindred group. Only the patri- archal age could unconsciously produce the kon-ing-inne, kueniginne, konigin as a correlative to the konig. In England our retention of the word queen has saved us from this. Thus our first series of words depending on the root kyn or gan 1 has led us to the conception of the womb as the primitive source of relationship, to the woman as queen and head of the kin, and to the king- ship as derived from the queen. The reader who will ponder over this, will understand why kings are so plentiful in fairy-tales, and why the normal road to a kingdom is to marry a king's daughter. 1 Some philologists have connected this root with Sanskrit gna, Latin genu, A.S. cne6, English, knee, and so with a root meaning kneel. Compare Latin nitor, which marks either kneeling or bearing. If this were true, it would denote that the primitive Aryan woman knelt in giving birth. This posture seems far from universal among savage women, and if it were, the act of giving birth would probably receive a name as early as that of kneeling, and there would be no more reason to derive the former from the later than vice versa. nS KINDRED GROUP-MARRIAGE As we shall see later, the idea of kinship is accom- panied by the idea of the wonted, the usual, the known. Thus eOos, usage, and Wvos, a relation, caste, tribe, are not accidentally co-radicate ; Sanskrit svatu a kinsman, and Germanic situ, sitte, are both connected with the Aryan root svedho, the usual, the known. Hence it comes about that the root gen, hyn also signifies to knoiv, even as in Genesis iv. 1 — " And Adam knew Eve his wife " ; we see the double sense, which belongs also to Latin cognosco, Greek ycyvwa/ca). Nor are other illustra- tions far to seek ; A. S. hnosi, kindred, may be compared with know itself; Greek yvwros is a friend, kinsman, brother, and the Jcnoivn ; Sanskrit gndti is relative, but gndtd, recognition, perception. Thus from the familiarity of the kin arose the conception of the wonted, the known, 1 and this was the basis of Gothic kunsps, the known (kuni, kindred), and so ultimately of modern German kunst, art. (2) The next word which I believe to be associated with the kindle notion is braut, bride. Deecke connects it with a supposed Sanskrit root, b'rud, to veil. There is no known instance of this root occurring, and I believe that the notion of veiling has arisen from an attempt to make the idea in bride correspond with that in the Latin nubere. There is no Teutonic parallel to this supposed root meaning veil, and I am inclined to doubt whether in the earliest Aryan period there would be enough clothing to spare for the luxury of veils. Grimm and Bopp connect braut with Sanskrit praudha, a past participle of pravah, to lead away. Thus the 1 Compare Swabian bunt, kund for lover and kundcln for liebcshandeln ; das kunta stands for the cattle. GENERAL WORDS FOR SEX AND KINSHIP 119 bride is the one led away, i.e. to the house of the bride- groom. Here, again, the patriarchal notion of early- society is at the bottom of the interpretation, and we reach our conception of primitive Teutonic society by working in a circle. Why, too, should we go to a Sanskrit root, with apparently no Teutonic parallel, to explain a purely Teutonic word ? In Gothic the word is brups, A.S. brid, O.H.G. prut, M.H.G. briit, and in modern Norwegian Landsmaal, brur, in which it is to be noted the characteristic dental does not appear (com- pare also the Plattdeutsch briimen for bridegroom). In O.H.G. the meaning of the word was rather wide, thus. young wife, bride (before loss of virginity), daughter- in-law, geliebte, concubine, and occasionally for any young- girl. Phajfenbrut is a priest's concubine ; ivdnbrut, a woman mistaken for a virgin ; ivindesprUt, the whirlwind, looked upon as a goddess ; brutsunu is ninth-century Ger- man for Christ, the Virgin's son. On the whole, the evidence seems to point to the initial sense as that of a young woman, who may or may not have borne children. It seems to me that Fick has come nearer to the mark than the above authorities in connecting bride with the root of the Greek ftpva), to be full, or bursting ; M.H.G. briezen, broz, swell, bud. He mentions Fruti as a name for Venus, and I suppose we may add Latin frutex, that which bursts out or sprouts, a shrub. The root of braut would thus be the same as that of O.H.G. pruten and English breed ; the outcome of the bruotan, brdten, is the brood, A.S. brod. In M.H.G. briuten and briute are the verb and noun for the sexual act. In modern Low German a term of vulvar abuse is KINDRED GRO UP- MA RRIA GE brilhe?i, bruen, briiden, which again connects the brewing and breeding ideas, e.g. Gehey click nur hin unci briihe cleine Mutter ! Or again, Lat mi ungebriit ! This is close, I think, to the real root of braut. In M.H.G. we find : Gezieret und gekleidet wol, Als man ze briuten tuon sol, Minnedurst. — Von der Hagen, Abenteuer, iii. 99. That is, " to come well bedecked as befits a wedding." A.S. brittan denotes pounding, bruising; while braedan is either to breed or to warm. O.H.G. bruotan has the same two meanings (cf. Latin fovere and fovea, to warm and the womb). A.S. brid, English bird, is the thing bred, warmed, or hatched. Thus the ultimate notion is again that of the fire-sticks, or of kindling. Graff connects bruotan with a root bar, Sanskrit bhr, bhar, Greek cf>ep, and Latin fer, 1 as in fertile. From this very root he also deduces bhrdtr, f rater, bruoder, brurer, and brother? So that the fundamental con- ception of brother would be the one who causes to bear, the male as breeder. The notion in brut of breed, incubate, leads to the word having a variety of uses. It is progenies, fetus, but is also used of either breeding male or female, as in brutbiene, for drone, and brut- henne, for brood-hen. The peasant in Ein Vasnachtspil vom Drech terms himself ein pruoter, a brooder or 1 Possibly the notion also in Latin verctrum=feretrum. 2 I do not think the notion of brother, as parents' son, existed before the Aryan scatter. The Greeks use d5e\6?, the co-uterine one, and, like fratcr in Latin, this term is used for sister's children, and indeed for kinsmen by the womb in general, cppdrpa has a far wider significance than sons of the same parents. GENERAL WORDS FOR SEX AND KINSHIP \z\ breeder, rhyming it with mater. The Slavonic brati, Old Irish brith, for birth, may also be noted. I take it that the Aryan roots bkara, bear, carry, and bhero, bear, are ultimately the same. From the former we have Sanskrit bhartrt, mother, child -bearer, and also bhdrtar, master, spouse, to be compared with Latin fertor; from the latter brati, brith, and birth. Even with the same notion I should ultimately connect brheya, rub, pound, as in Latin friare, A.S. briv, O.H.G. brio, modern German brei, the fundamental notion in all cases being the result of the primitive mill, the pound- ing and the swelling or fermenting of the bruised grain under the influence of water, the brewing. I take it, accordingly, that there is no ultimate radical difference between Sanskrit bhartar, spouse, and bhratar, brother, between Latin fertor and frater, or indeed between English breeder and brother. If we find in both bride and brother the same notion of kindle and breed, we are led back to these words (Landsmaal, brur and brurer) as correlatives, and we see that so far from brother originally connoting the legal protector of the sister, he is in reality her spouse. We are brought indeed back to that primitive social system — so amply evidenced by archaic myth- ology — in which brother-sister or kin-group marriage was the normal relationship. This view is to a great extent confirmed by the fact that the words for both brother and sister are in early use, and also in modern dialects, used indifferently for both sexes. Thus schivester, sister, does not seem in any way correlated to bruder, brother. Gesicester, KINDRED GROUP-MARRIAGE geswester, svskeude, systkin, are those who are suds to- gether — that is, familiar or Heimlich together, and much in the same sense originally as to become Heimlich is to pair. 1 Swdsman is O.S. for brother, swaseline Middle Dutch for relative, and swdsenede for female friend ; beswas is M.L.Gr. for related, and sivesbedde Friesian for incest. Similarly, we may find the same primitive idea involving both sexes in bar. Sanscrit b'artar is spouse and nourisher, b'ratardu denotes brother and sister, brethren of both sexes. Greek cppdrpa, kinship, marks closely the old kin -group, but also a common meal, a ava-a-lriov : and I believe that the annual festival of the Apaturia, 2 or gathering of the clan, preceded immediately by the Chalceia or feast of the goddess Athene, was a fossil of the old kin sex-festival and the worship of the goddess of fertility. 3 Doubtless it was primitively associated with the same intermingling of kin. Indeed, the root of brother and bride carries us back to the stage of civilisation which left its fossils in Iris, sister and wife of Osiris ; Freya, sister and wife 1 Compare the Latin sueo to be accustomed, to be wont, and the sexual mean- ing of consuesco and consuetio. Bopp would deduce sister, svasr, from sva, own, private, and stdr = stri — woman. This stri he takes to be a degenerate form of sMri and sUtar, from sil, to bring forth, bear, so that sister would stand for sva-sdtar, a man's own or special child-bearer. 2 There was an enrolling of the new members of the a P er ~ feet equivalent from the standpoint of the sex-festival. GENERAL WORDS FOR SEX AND KINSHIP 133 A. S. lac is ludus and sacrijicium ; Old French lai, Eng- lish lay may be noted. Old Slavonic liku, O.N. leikr for game, dance, are also to the point. In Landsmaal leik is still a game with rapid motion, a violent dance ; leihvoll is the dancing place; leikestova,& dancing-room ; leikfugl is a bird at pairing time ; and leike is used for the gambols of birds at pairing time. But in M.H.G. htleih simply means marriage. Thus a word for patriarchal marriage takes its name from the old group custom. It is reflected in the modern English wedding dance, but much more strongly in the more or less obscene dances occurring among the German peasantry at weddings and at Kirmes, May -day, and other periodic festivals. 1 The choral wedding song is found in most Aryan races. We may note the Greek i7ri6a\dfito<;, Swedish hr/tdsiing, O.H.G. brutisang, A.S. brijdsang and brydleod. 2 In this respect also we must compare the Mleih with the mysterious winileod, the cantica dictbolica, or ribald songs sung by German maidens at periodical feasts at or even inside the early Christian churches. In the Fivelingoer Landregt, an old Friesian law - book of which the existing MS. is early fourteenth-century, we are told that the Friesian bride is to be brought to her bridegroom with ivinnasonge. 3, A more direct link between the patriarchal bridal ceremony and the old group habits it is difficult to imagine. What, however, 1 I hope later to publish an essay on peasant festivals, and show their relation to the old kin-group customs. 2 The terra Frauentanz also deserves notice ; it was used by the Mijvnesinger, not for dance, but for a particular form of song, probably originally a choral dance. 3 Edition Hatterna, p. 44. A translation of the whole passage is given in the Essay on "Woman as Witch," p. 17. i 3 4 KINDRED GROUP-MARRIAGE does ivini denote ? Wini is a root much like gimah, with which I shall deal later. It is glossed amicus, sodalis, dilectus, while winid is rendered by dilecta, marita, conjux; winiscaf is foedus, amor (Sanskrit vdma is dear, precious, health, and wealth). Thus we have the notion of the friend, the table -comrade, the spouse, — in short, the male or female member of the cosexual group. The original kinship of the members is shown in Old Irish fine, blood relative. What is wini is friendly, winsome, and what is unwini is unfriendly ; just as what is of the kin is kind, and what is not of it is unkind, or what is of the hag is haglig, fitting, and behaglich, comfortable and pleasant. 1 It is the kin and kin-home as the standard of comfort and right, much as the child's standard to-day is that of home comfort and family habit.' 2 To make the wini series complete, we may note Fick's supposed cognates : Greek evv^, a lair, a couch, a bridal bed; O.H.G. gawona, dwell, and Ger- man wohnung, a house ; Sk. vdnas, lust ; O.N. vinna, German gewinnen, English win, O.H.G. wan, wonne, etc. Nor is it only in the ideas of kindness and comfort that we find the primitively sexual link developing into new social qualities. No root, for example, is originally of more purely sexual weight than Aryan gan, Latin gen. But besides a whole terminology for begetting, child-bearing, parentage, and kinship, we find 1 There is a similar idea in the short hi form of the root, thus O.X. hyrr, soft, gentle; A. S. hcore, O.H.G. hiuri, in the compounds unhiuri, M.H.G. gehiure, and German geheuer and ungeheuer, for the reverse of comfort. Slavonic po-sivu is benign ; Sanskrit si is peace, rest, comfort ; Icelandic hyra, joyous- looking ; while Landsmaal hyra and uhyra stand for good and bad fortune. 2 Compare the Greek oTkos, house, home, family ; olKetSrrjs, intimacy, marriage ; olxelos, fitting, suitable ; and otKelu/xa, appropriateness, etc. GENERAL WORDS FOR SEX AND KINSHIP 135 genialis, nuptial, appertaining to procreation ; and then, as a result of the association of this fundamental appetite with pleasure, we have later the significance joyous, delightful, pleasant, and ultimately our own genial, with no sexual weight at all ! Similarly genialitas is primarily the sexual feast, but ultimately it is joviality, geniality in its most asexual and puri- fied form, as free from the notion of procreation as kindliness is from the primitive sense of kindle. Then we have genius, originally for sexual appetite and fond- ness for good living (i.e. the group -meal), passing through the stages of taste and genial inclination, wit, and character, to be purified as talent. Nor does the range of ideas springing from gen stop here. Generosus means originally one of birth, probably of known birth, who could be enrolled in the Fratria, hence one of good or noble birth, and so to excellency or nobility in the higher sense ; it ultimately reaches in generosity a social quality free from any sexual atmosphere. Com- pare O.H.G- cdtkunni for guotkunni, glossed generositas. Nay, even nobility itself carries us back to Latin nobilis, or gnobilis, the known or familiar, and gno is but another form of gan; the known or familiar are the cosexual kin-group, the cognati and the cogniti are ultimately the same people, and gnosco stands to genus as kennen and kunst to kind, knabe, and kin. The limitation of my evidence to word-fossils does not allow me to enter into the great amount of material which folklore provides concerning the old choral sex- dances ; they find their prototype, however, among nearly all primitive peoples. One word, however, may be referred to here as an illustration. What is a comedy f 136 KINDRED GROUP-MARRIAGE I venture to assert that originally the comedy was a ivinileod — a choral dance at a sex-festival, a hileih. It denotes the ode of the kwixos, but Greek /c&yio? signifies a revel, a festal procession. We are told that at these festivals, which took place on fixed days, the party " paraded the streets, crowned, bearing torches, singing, dancing, and playing all kinds of frolics," — such words stand almost as a translation of the Landregt description of how the Friesian bride is to be brought home. In the Alcestis of Euripides (11. 915 et seq.) the KtofAos is directly associated with the bridal torches and hymns. The kw/aos songs were of a phallic or ribald char- acter, and the name /c&yio? stands not only for the festival, but for the band of revellers, 1 whether male or female — they are the chorus. But it is singular that a cognate word Koofir) means village, and the relation is too strong to be passed over. It becomes quite intelligible, however, if we see in the primitive village the haia or home of the kin-group, in the kw/jlos the hive or band of kin at the sex-festival, and in the comedy the hileih or song of the hive. Even the root of koj^ is closely related to that of home, and so to the hi series. We may note Keloo and tcelfiai, to lie, Koifxdw, to lie down and also to still, and /coir?), a lair, nest, couch, and especially the marriage bed. Thus it will be seen that such a refined idea as that of comedy carries us back to primitive civilisation with its kin sex-festivals, and that hileih and comedy are of one and the same origin. 2 1 Compare the way in which Mv, hymen l ), and the kin council (Jurat). In these customs we find the prototype of most Aryan wedding ceremonies. 2 (5) We must now pass to a series of roots for kin- ship, emphasising still more strongly the endogamous character of the primitive kin-group. The next general root for sex relationship which we will take is mag or mall, and this is simply the root of our English make. I shall give reasons later for sup- posing the mother to have been looked upon in primi- tive times as the maker of life, 3 and the mould in which she cast it was the magen (A.S. maga), the belly or womb. A long series of words marks the relationship of the magen or womb, or at any rate denote what is moulded or formed there. Mac, mdk, mdg, mdch, and 1 Hymen is originally nothing more than the hymn or song, the winilcod. 2 I take contubcmium, consortium to be essentially fossils of the mother-age civilisation. yd/Mos is also interesting ; its root, as in ya.fj.tu, may denote mere sexual relations, and it is used itself both for the marriage and the feast before it. 3 Kindermachcn = Troi€'iv waida, to bear children, was originally used of the mother in a perfectly refined sense, e.g. "in dieser nechst vergangen nacht, hat mich mein mutter erst gemacht." Then later machcn like iroieh is used of the father. In mediaeval German it is used chiefly of the mother for children born out of wedlock — this in itself is suggestive. GENERAL WORDS FOR SEX AND KINSHIP 139 mdh are used in O.H.G. for all parallel blood relationship, and stand to magen as kin to kone. The plural mag on is very early glossed cognati, relatives by birth, or from the womb. In Gothic magus is son, child, servant, mavi and magaps, maid. Megs ( = mdga) is curiously a daughter's husband, quite intelligible if the son be the daughter's husband, as in the kin-group, but otherwise difficult of in- terpretation. Akin to it is the Swedish mdgr for son-in- law. Both are deduced from O.N. mdgr, denoting blood relative. O.N. has also mdgr for boy. In A.S. we have maeg for kinsman ; maege for kinswoman, female cousin ; gemagas, glossed consanguinei, and maegs for kinship. Maegets in A. S. is of special interest ; we find it denoting maiden, kin, family, tribe, people, province, nation. Thus we see the gradual expansion of the mac with the growth of a patriarchal civilisation. O.F. mach, child as in ilia moder and thet mach, must be compared with mecli, gdmech, in the same dialect, for gaugenossen, members of the same mark ; it is a step in the identifica- tion of the primitive mark with a kin-group. O.H.G. gives us mdcshaft for kinship ; gemdgeda for relation- ship, family ; mdgiu, relative, cousin — i.e. all the chil- dren of the kin-group ; l magidi for servants — precisely as hiwe is related to the hiwa or hive. Finally, we may note M.H.G. maget, magad, mait, German mddchen, and English maid. So far we have seen only the origin of a number of kin words in the magen, or make, idea. This is quite parallel to calling the child the born one, as in bairn 1 Magiu is glossed cosine, even in mediaeval Bavarian dialect. 140 KINDRED GROUP-MARRIAGE and bam (Danish bvr, the womb, and ~brn, children x ), but there are other ideas in mdc which we must now follow up. Besides denoting blood relationship, it denotes sexual relationship. Thus in O.F. mec stands for verlobung, meker for wooer, mec-bref for contract of marriage, metrika for verlobte, which latter may better be compared with Sanskrit mdtrha for mother, nurse, and womb. In A.S. maca is glossed par, socius, consors, conjux, and in O.N. maki is glossed par, aequalis, con- jux. Swedish gives us make, a mate or equal, maka, a spouse, mate ; CD. maet, and Eng. mate, all closely related to A.S. maegets, and even English maid. In other words, terms which denote collateral kinship are identified with sexual comradeship. They are, in fact, excellently glossed by the Latin consors, which, I take it, was itself a term for the group consort. These are evidently fossils of the most suggestive kind, for they carry us back to kin-marriage, at least cousin- marriage, if not brother -sister marriage. The A.S. maeghaemed, the heirath of the mdc, was probably in olden times no term of reproach. Endogamy was part of the maeg or might, the strength of the family. The bond of kin was the source of power and strength. The whole mdc would have been as wroth as many a Tyrol- ese village still would be at a maiden who exhibited exogamous tendencies. She would have been doing what, in that stage of civilisation, was antisocial or immoral. 2 1 Compare Friesian ben and hem for child, beminghe for blood relationship, and benenaburch, the bairn's home, as a name for the womb. 2 The following extract from an evening paper shows the same primitive social feeling in Hungary. The outburst occurred at Borsad, a village near Kaschau : — GENERAL WORDS FOR SEX AND KINSHIP 141 The extension of the term mage beyond the fruit of a single womb is evidenced in the following passages from early German law-books : — Dit is de irste sibbe tale, di man to magen rekenet, bruder kindere unde suster kindere. — Sachsenspiegel. " This is the first grade of kinship which is reckoned as mage, namely, brothers' children and sisters' chil- dren." Vnd heizent die chint geswistrige' vnt hebent die ersten sippe zal die man zemagen rechent. — Schwahenspiegel. " And the children are termed geswistrige, and have the first grade of kinship which is reckoned as mage." The second of these terms the mage, brethren, and the first identifies brothers' and sisters' children as mage or brethren. The two conceptions would practically be the same if the word mage originated in a kin-group with very little or no individualising of fathers or mothers. Thus in the Heimdallar Galdr, a charm in A girl, who is a native of the village, was married to a peasant from another village, but after the wedding a number of the young men of Borsad tried to prevent her from departing to her new home. The bride managed to escape, but, on seeing this, the young men set fire to the cottage of her parents, and the flames quickly spread to other cottages. A murderous light then began between these young ruflians and the bride's friends, with the result that eight peasants were killed, and about twenty of both sexes injured. The arrival of a detachment of gendarmes put an end to the affray, and the ringleaders were marched off to prison. On another occasion (1886) we read : — The village of Ladis, in the Tyrol, has for generations observed the rule that its maidens must not take husbands outside their own village. Lately, however, Catherine Schranz, reckoned the most beautiful girl of the whole district, accepted the proposal of a suitor from a distant place. The youths of Ladis resented this as a personal injury. Six of them seized her, tied her on a manure cart, and led her through the village, the other youths and boys jeering and singing derisive chants. At length her father rescued her, and took proceedings against her assailants, who were sentenced to terms of imprisonment ranging from four weeks to two months. Neither gendarmes nor editors realised the value of these fossils of primitive civilisation. 142 KINDRED GROUP-MARRIAGE the Edda, Heimdall says : "I am nine mothers' child, I am nine sisters' son " ; — a passage which has much troubled the commentators, 1 but which is more intel- ligible from the standpoint of group-marriage. In later German the origin of mac is quite obscured. With the growth of patriarchal notions, terms like kunJcelmdc, spindelmdc, muotermdc, were used to dis- tinguish relatives on the mother's side from the vatermdc, germdc, swertmdc, relatives on the father's side. A.S. fcederencyn, fcederingmag , for father's relatives may be compared. In reality the words are the misnomers of an age which also produced kueniginne. The sexual side of the word wide is found in magan, which occurs in mediaeval dialect, and Swabian mogen, miigen, all meaning to procreate. Further in gemctht, gemahti, for the male as well as female sex-organs, and in modern German gemachte for those of the male. 2 Grimm sees in the latter word a modern evaluation with the sense of power ; but the A. S. gemaecnes, glossed cohabitatio, is against this, and I am inclined to think the notion of power in mac may be largely derived from kin as a source of strength, a widespread primitive ex- perience. The procreated are the mac or the gimageda. It is to the last word we will now turn for further light on the kin-group life. Gamahhida is glossed conjwwtio, sodalitas, affinitas, congregatio, consortium foedus, cohibentia, conviventia. In other words, a union or gathering together for con- 1 One of the latest, Prof. Rhys, finds in Heimdall a solar or light myth, and in his nine mothers evidence of a nonary week ! See similar cases of many mothers' children cited on pp. 203, 235. 2 Machen is still used for any natural office in Swiss and other dialects. GENERAL WORDS EOR SEX AND KINSHIP 143 vivial purposes of those forming a community. 1 It represents the kin living in common, having common property, a common house and meals. It is the primitive Roman or Iroquois gens. But the glosses on gamahhida do not stop at kinship ; we find also contubernium, copula, connubium, cubile carnalium, commercium. Thus the word denotes sexual union of all kinds. It is the free sexual intercourse between the mac which goes to form the full conception of gamahhida. This word, like the Latin cohabitatio, denotes not only a living together, but as a sexual union it marks the collegia et connubium cognatorum, the communistic and endo- gamous character of the magenschaft. While gamahhida represents the group, the individual members were the gimahide, gimachide, words glossed by conjux, conjugi, i.e. spouses, gimahido is rendered by par, gamahcho by socius, gamahho by conjux, uxor; all indicating equal comradeship and, at the same time, sex- relationship. Further, the adverbs gamahho, gimacho are rendered by Latin glosses signifying ' in common,' commodiously, kindly, fitly, opportunely, and the noun gimahi has glosses affinitas, opportunitas. We have in these words the whole strength of the gamahhida brought out. A kin-marriage group with all property in common, living in common, naturally termed what belonged to the group, easy of access, fit, and convenient, gemahlih (or as it is glossed connixe, " leaning on one another "). What was not of the group w&s>ungai7iahlih, 1 It should be noticed how the conception of living together has led to the idea of partaking in feasts together, sharing in festivals, e.g. the Latin concicor and convivium. i 4 4 KINDRED GROUP-MARRIAGE inopportune, hostile, unfitting, evil, — the glosses are onerosus, injuriosus, improbus, mains. In a word, we have another instance of the kin origin of terms marking comfort, fitness, and goodness, such as we have already- noted in hind and behaglich. A shorter form of the adjective is A.S. gamah, gemaca ; it expresses the same idea and is glossed in the same way idoneus, habilis, sodalis, communis. Kamah sin denotes to be bound together, foederentur. From this comes a noun gimah, gimacha originally standing like gamahhida for the entire group or gens, but very early appropriated to its dwelling-place. It ultimately denotes a house, or even a collection of houses. Thus we frequently find it in the Tyrol for village names (Obergemach), and for villagers' names (Gemach'l). It is exactly the same transition as in haia, which is first the hive group and then the hive home. To connect gemach, the home of the gamahhida, with the haia or haga of the hiwun we have the term gemachzaun, a word used in Bavaria for one of the three customary modes of fencing or hedging, to which certain privileges attached. A somewhat similar term is the gemachmilhl of the Salzburg district, — a mill built by a small group of peasants, probably originally forming a marhgenossenschaft, to supply their own needs. How little does the modern German, gemachlich in his gemach, realise the anthropological value of these terms ! Their picture of the old kinship with their group-marriage, happy in their common dwelling, is not even a dream to him. The idea of pleasure, of what is fitting and good, attached to the word gimahlih GENERAL WORDS FOR SEX AND KINSHIP 145 shows us that our old Teuton ancestors considered such communistic, cosexual life as both moral and advantageous. It was, indeed, a necessary stage of evolution, it led to the foundation of a wider conception of kin, to the tribe, and ultimately to the state. 1 (6) The next word to which I would draw the reader's attention is associated with a rather different phase of kin-group life. I refer to the term mahal or mal. One of the earliest meanings which we find attached is that of the periodic meeting, or judicial assembly of the markgenossenschaft. This took place at the mahal- stat, the mahalbrunnen or the makalberg, on the mahaltag. At such places, where the mahal was held, there was usually a mahalstein or altar, and were we now occupied with folklore and not philology it would be easy to bring evidence of human sacrifices to a goddess of fertility at the mahalstein. The corre- sponding verb mahaljan denotes a speaking together ; the mahal being the basis of a folk-assembly. Thus far everything might seem straightforward with regard to this word — the old tribal parliament, the mark- genossenschaft, meeting by sacred well or on sacred hill. But we find attached to the word a totally different set of meanings. Mahal is also a marriage : mahaltag is glossed dies sponsionis, mahaljan, mdlen, is to take to wife, and mdlscaz is the bridal treasure, the brautschatz ; mahelkosen is to fondle. In Ger- man vermcihhmg, vermdhlen and gemahl, gemahlin 1 Kinship is the basis of all civilisation, but the origin of the herd or horde, whether of animals or man, required a wider sexual relationship than monogamie marriage. The herd once established as a variation, its fitness for the extra-group struggle enabled it to be independent of its primitive sexual basis. VOL. II L 146 KINDRED GROUP-MARRIAGE (0. Swedish millet and gamahalus are vermahlung and gemahl), denote the whole round of marriage relations. 1 Can this be merely a figurative use of the idea of talking together for the marriage relation,' 2 or does the notion arise from something which happened at the old mahal, or tribal gathering ? But, searching still further, we find the word mdl denoting meal, food, which has usually been distinguished from mat, a talk, an assembly. The ultimate identity of the two can scarcely, I think, be disputed, although the origin of mahl, a meal, has been ingeniously associated by Skeat and others with the root ma, to measure, and so with a measure of time. 3 In this case mahlzeit becomes a senseless repetition, and the essential notion of meal as a convivium, a high feast or banquet, disappears from the origin of the word. Schmeller unconsciously bears evidence for the close relation between mdl = mahal, and mdl = mahl, when he states that das mdl is par excellence the hochzeitsmdV anions; the Bavarian peasantry. The mdlgeld, which each peasant has to pay for this common feast, and his present to bride and groom termed malet (the giving is maelen), come strikingly close to the mdlpfenning which must be paid to the mahlmann or judicial official of the mahal, 1 It is a noteworthy fact that in many peasant-festivals, such as the Kirmcs, which I take to be relics of old heathen sex-festivals (see p. 19), we still find a Gerichtspiel or Amtmanspicl ; a fossil of the old judicial assembly remains in a redemption of mock pledges. 2 Compare the double use of intercourse, conversation (in older English, and con- versatio in Latin), fenstem in Swabian, etc. At the kammafensta we find both chorus and riddle marked features of the primitive sex-festival. 3 Primitively a meal is an epoch of time, before time suggests meals. 4 The original use of hochzcit, not for a bridal feast, but for a communal dance-gathering, may be seen preserved in Aschenputtel, Grimm's Miirchai, No. 140. GENERAL WORDS FOR SEX AND KINSHIP 147 and we grasp how it is that the mdlschatz (which Grimm and others derive from mahal) is yet used in the sense of bride-money, or is closely related to the millet. We have on the one hand group - custom reappearing in bridal, on the other hand in judicial ceremonies, both, however, were originally part of one and the same group-gathering. What seems to me, also, quite certain is that in Tyrolese, Carinthian, and Styrian Weisth timer and Taidinge the word mdl, in the sense of a meal, is used back to about 1300, and passes almost insensibly into the meaning of mahal, the assembly. That the mahhnann, obman, or what- ever else the presiding officer of the mahal is termed, is to be provided with a gerichtsmahl — ein guetes mall — is nearly always a special injunction of the Taidinge ; and traces of the old custom of providing such a meal may be seen in the provision the English sheriff makes for the judges on assize. Even the word malzeit is used iu a manner which leaves us in doubt whether it refers to the duration of the mahal, or to the gerichtsmahl, 1 the fact probably being that both were originally identical notions. It is not in the court-poets, the Minnesinger of the M.H.G. period, that we must look for the use of mahl for meal, but in the peasant judicial proceedings which preserved the traditions of the primitive folk. The mahal notion is accordingly seen to embrace a clan- gathering, a feast, and a sexual commingling. 2 I venture to assert that we have again a root representing the old 1 See Zingerle u. Egger, Die Tiroler JVristhiimcr, iv. Theil, s. 270. 2 The meal idea iu mahal shows us the confarreatio springing out of the clan rcrmdhlung. The notion is just as much Teutonic as Latin, and folklore shows the looseness of the relationship from which monogamic marriage arose. Thus in Zurich the hridal pair had to use one spoon, so that there might he a genuine 148 KINDRED GROUP-MARRIAGE group habits. The Germans meet, Tacitus tells us, to feast, talk over tribal matters, and arrange marriages. Now all these diverse meanings become clear in the light of the hag community, — the mdlberg is the hiberg, the mdlstat, 1 the histat. O.H.G. method, M.H.G. mdl, O.S. maal, O.N. mdl, A.S. mael, covering the notions of gathering, talk, marriage become intelligible. The hegemdl, gehegtes gericht, the judgment-place fenced in, the medieval custom of fencing or " hedging " a gericht before holding it become clearer. It is a symbolic reproduction of the old kin-dwelling, where the maeg-gemot was held to settle the maeglag. We see in the mahal only another form of the Jurat. It is noteworthy that mal is a boundary as well as an assembly in much the same manner as mark is a boundary and a group. We may indeed ask what is the primitive meaning to be attached to the root in mahal, or mael. The related Aryan tongues, according to Deecke, who does not go beyond the ' talk ' con- ception, offer no parallels to the Teutonic dialects, and Grimm has no suggestion to make as to mahal, and repudiates any relation to meal. Notwithstanding this, I venture to think that German mahlen, to grind, and maiden, to promise, are at bottom the same. Thus we may notice the way in which mahlmann is used of the officer of the gericht, but also mahlmann and mahlleute confarreatio. In Esthonia the bridegroom breaks the spoons of his bride and of himself, upon which the house-father unites the pair. In Norway the bride- spoou, often beautifully carved, is a family treasure. To love and to be wanton is termed loffcln in Germany, and a weak form of the same idea remains in the phrase to spoon, denoting to flirt in English. In England also the bride-knives, bride-cup, and bride-cake have probably all relation to the idea in confarreatio. 1 Significantly in M.H.G. this word stands for site of a dwelling, e.g. vmnn- samy mdlstat. GENERAL WORDS FOR SEX AND KINSHIP 149 of the peasant or group of peasants using a mill. Further maellen occurs frequently for maiden in the sense of grind in German dialect. A still stronger link, however, may be found by comparing Ulfilas's renderings of Luke xvii. 35 and Luke iv. 18. In the former passage the Greek has aXrjOovo-cu, leading directly to the Latin molentes, and Ulfilas has mcdandeins from mcdan. In the latter passage the Greek has awTerpnnxkvov^, and the Latin contritos. Now both aXiw and Tp[/3co are to rub, pound, grind, and is directly used of rubbing the fire-sticks, or of any motion of a pestle in a mortar. 1 We have thus directly from the Greek a link between the fire-sticks and the primitive mill. Ulfilas, however, renders the Latin contritos by gamalvi- dans, giving a verb mcdvjan, to bruise or pound. This stands as close to O.H.G. gamahaljan and mahaljan as to O.H.G. mcdan. 2 If this hypothesis be correct, the mal root in vermahlung carries us back to precisely the same notion as the hi in heirath, i.e. to the idea of the fire-sticks or of pestle and mortar. In the word mahal all the senses are concentrated, it is the common meal, the tribe-talk, and the sex-festival. To fully realise this, we must recollect that the primitive mill with which most food was prepared, not only among the Aryans, but among savages all the world over, is the mortar and pestle ; 3 and when it is of 1 For example, Tpl-^ai is used by Homer of Odysseus when rubbing the stake round in the socket of the Cyclops' eye. <* being to feast, quite as much of men as of animals. The idea of the chorus is well expressed by the dancing within the lists to the erotic song, such as Alcinous's people exhibited before Odysseus. In this respect it is to be noted that no foreigners — i.e. originally no doubt none but the kin — were allowed to join the chorus. The picture of youths and maidens dancing in the chorus is repeated twice in the eighteenth book of the Iliad, although the term x o P°s is on ^7 used on the second occasion, but the first is peculiarly important for our present purpose. It runs : — Also lie fashioned therein two fair cities of mortal men. In the one were espousals and marriage feasts, and beneath the blaze of torches they were leading the brides from their chambers through the city, and loud arose the bridal song. And young men were whirling in the dance, and among them flutes and viols sounded high ; and the women standing each at her door were marvelling. But the folk Avere gathered in the assembly place (dyopy) ; for there a strife was arisen, two men striving about the blood-price of a man slain. 1 Here, in a highly-developed condition, we have the 1 The Iliad of Homer, translated by Lang, Leaf and Myers, p. 381. 158 KINDRED GROUP-MARRIAGE German mahal, the tribal judicial assembly going on ; but at the same time the winileod is heard, the dance and the brands of the free Friesian brides are seen, and ajopd and %opo9 unite as the hirdt and hileih to complete the picture of primitive tribe -talk, feast, and kindred bridal. The association of x°P° (; with feast, with religious ceremony, and with the hedged or staked inclosure — its root is the same as in garth, yard, and hortus — are all paralleled in the koo/hos and hag concep- tions, with which I have already dealt. It is further noteworthy that one of the great choral festivals, that of the Lenaea, took place in the month of Ta^Xccov, which covered the latter half of January and the first half of February. This month is said to have been so called because it was a fashionable time for weddings, but the name much more probably arose from the old sex-festivals occurring in this period. 1 It may be noted that February in Germany is termed the Weibermonat, since " im Februar fiihren die Frauen das Kegiment"; and I am inclined to interpret the O.H.G. name Homung in the same sense, i.e. the month of that free intercourse which resulted in the offspring — hornunge, children, whom a later ao;e regarded as bastard and illegitimate. The Koman Lupercalia held on February 15th was essentially a worship of fertility, and the privileges supposed to be attached to women in our own country during this month — especially on February 14th and 29th — are probably a fossil of the same sex-freedom. - 1 The ancient Irish "annual marriages " were dissolved and new ones entered upon on Walpurgis Day, another great sex- festival. 2 The mysterious festival in January of the Anglo-Saxons, which Bede terms " modrancht, id est matrum noctem," deserves consideration. What also was the GENERAL WORDS FOR SEX AND KINSHIP 159 The important part played by women in the Dionysian sex-festival is also to be borne in mind. As in Teutonic lands, so in Greece and Rome we can trace back below a much more elaborate civilisation the simple habits of primitive life, with their evidences of a totally different status for women and a widely diverse sexual system. The notion that a gathering is at once a tribal council, a choral festival, and a military unit is well illus- trated by the O.H.G. glosses gasamani for congregatio, gesemine for chorus, kesemene for concilium, gesemene for coetus, phalanx, and liutgasameni for folk-gathering. To these may be added a mysterious brutsamana used by Notker for ecclesia. But what was a brutsamana in pre-Christian times ? We seem carried back once more to the choruses of maidens singing the hileih in the early Christian churches. Another word which may be just noted is fare, to go or travel, but this quite early has the meaning of fare, to feed. Thus A.S. gefer, gefere is glossed by consortium, a faring together, gefera by socius, comes, sodalis, contubernalis, i.e. a comrade not only on the way, but at table and in the home. Geferraeden, liter- ally a talking together of the gefere, comes to mean household {domus,familias), the intercourse of comrades (societas, familiaritas), the corporate group of the markgenossenschaft, but also sex-intimacy, marriage as we find in contubernium. The root runs indeed heathen festival of the Spurcalia, which caused Fehruary to be called sporkcl- maand? Was it from the Aryan root spherag, swell, burst, giving sphoragos, shoots, buds, but with the sense also of any young life as in German Schossling for Schooskind? 160 KINDRED GROUP-MARRIAGE exactly parallel to A.S. cynraeden leading to modern kindred, and A.S. hiwraeden with its modern German equivalent the heirath. Fdra is Langobard for family, relationship ; and we thus see the complete round of the hiivunga and gamahhida ideas again well illus- trated. See also Appendix IV. on genossenschaft. (9) The next word for kinship to be considered is sib. Gothic sibja, O.H.G. sippia, A.S. sib, O.N. sifjar, kinship. In O.N. sif is friend and sift is kin. A friend can only be one of the kin ; and if a person is to be made a friend, he must be made one of the blood or kin by commingling or drinking blood with all or the chief members of the kin. 1 All that are related by birth, cognatio, are sib. Thus cognatos is glossed by sibbo and gisibbe. Sif is the name of Trior's wife, who is a goddess of fertility, of agriculture, and of childbirth — a Scandinavian Ceres. She appears in Anglo-Saxon as Siba or Sieve, and was probably primitively rather a mother- goddess than a wife-goddess. In the Edda a ' kenning ' for the Earth itself is svaeru Sifjar, which appears to identify Sif with Jord, Thor's mother, and not his wife. She has at any rate the characteristics of a goddess of fertility. The Gothic sif an is to rejoice, and appears to be related to sip asfreuen to fri. Just as notions of comfort and friendly action are associated with the mag, the kin, and the hag, so we find sip glossed pax, affnitas, foedus? Thus pax vobiscum is 1 The pobratimstvo or bratstvo, the brotherhood of the Southern Slavs, is one of the most interesting cases. There appears even some evidence that the bratstvo was created by a commingling of blood. '-' In the tenth to eleventh century O.H.G. translation of Martinus Capella die siirpa Jovis stands for consortia Jovis, the company of Jupiter. GENERAL WORDS FOR SEX AND KINSHIP 161 rendered by sibba si iu and vade in 'pace by far in sibbu in Tatian. We see in these phrases the primitive man going away in safety amid his kin. Unsippe is seditio, hostility, unfriendliness ; unsibja is iniqua. Gasibbo and gasibba are glossed consanguineus and consanguinea, the male and female blood-relative. In M.L.G. sibbert is the blood - relative ; A.S. gives as its equivalent sibling (Landsmaal sivjung and O.N. sifjungr), and has also sibsum and ungesibsum for peaceful and hostile. Gothic gasibjon is to pacify, and unsibis is one who is an outlaw, — i.e. not of the blood bond. The sipzal and siptzal is the enumeration of the clan, the 'tale' of the relatives. Norse sift and svift are kin, and I suspect English sept for clan is really the same, and not a corruption of sect as Skeat supposes. English gossip, of course, comes from the same source. I doubt very much whether the god in the original godsib is to be associated with god, 1 but rather corresponds to the god in goodman, or godeman, with the sense of pater- familias, the head of the sibbe. If so, gossibraede becomes identical with cynraede and hhvraede in sense, and our modern gossip expresses exactly the primitive intimacy of the kin. So far, with the excep- tion of the idea in Sif the goddess of fertility and of the family, the sexual notion has not been shown to enter into sib. But while Norse sif is a friend, sjafii is a wooer, a lover, and sjbfn is a bride. In Prussia gesippe is used of a dissolute and lewd company. This is very probably not a complete degeneration of the sib notion, but a retention and an emphasis of the 1 I shall return later to the primitive value of tin- godpart nts. VOL. II M 1 62 KINDRED GROUP-MARRIAGE social and sexual freedom of the primitive sib. Lithu- anian sebras is a comrade, and very suggestively Slavonic sebru is a peasant, one of the mark group who till common land. We may again connect the idea of k gather ' by referring to the Sanskrit sabhd, an as- sembly, and sabbya, one trusted or fit for an assembly (cited by Skeat), and I suspect Persian sapah, sipah, an army, and sipdhi, English sepoy, a soldier ; thus pointing to the kin as the primitive military unit. The root of sip is somewhat obscure. Deecke would connect it with si, Sanskrit siv, denoting sew, bind together. It is more likely to be connected with sip, to suck, so that the siblings would be the sucklings. 1 This is supported by the use of geseppe, gesoppe, and gesuppe in Bohemia for a crowd of small children. Skeat connects both sip and sup with a root su, to express juice, to generate, and so with son, sus, and sivine. 2 Whether the suckling notion {sip, siippen, sijj- peln), or the procreating, generating notion (su), be at the basis of sib, we find that the notion of kin sexual freedom is not so strong in it as in several other terms for blood relationship. Indeed in Teutonic lands the blood notion gets weakened, and in Landsmaal syvja seg is now equivalent to besvogre sig, to enter into relationship by marriage — an expression far removed 1 Note O.N. seppi for puppy, Swedish si/ for bitch, and Persian sipa for dog. 2 He will allow no relationship between s?p = kin and M.H.G. si}) = sieve. Yet A.S. sife, sibi, and O.H.G. sib, are strangely close to the kin-words. Skeat says, "A sieve is properly for dry articles." This appears to entirely overlook the Danish sive, which is used especially of water, but generally of any penetra- tion through fine holes. GENERAL WORDS FOR SEX AND KINSHIP 163 indeed from the O.H.G. ninth-century unsipbi wip, for the concubine of presbyters and deacons. The subintro- ducta, or concubine, as distinguished from the wife, was in the earliest time essentially the ' strange woman,' the woman not of the kin. We cannot leave sib without turninor for a moment to a corresponding Slavonic word zupa. In Old Prussian we have sup&ni, and in Lithuanian zupone for the house-mother, the materfamilias. Siponeis is Gothic for a disciple, probably as junge in modern German stands for puer, famulus, and discipulus. The corre- sponding Latin appears to be prosapia, a stock or race. In the Lika district the folk use zupa for house- hold, or family. It is a subject of congratulation to the head of the house that he has a large zupa. The primitive use of Zupa appears to be identical with hiwa and sibbe, but it is used for a village community, for a pasturage, — probably originally the common land of the community — and for a parish, zvpnik, being the parish priest. Just as in A.S. mcegs, the sense of the word is extended from household to village, to district, and even to county. The head of a zupa is a zupan ; yet this word, which might be supposed to refer to the paterfamilias as zupone to the materfamilias, has been specialised in the sense of the head of the zupa for military and judicial purposes. AVe have, in fact, the kin-chief, — the rudimentary paterfamilias, never de- veloped into the actual father, but into the heerfiihrer and herzog, as distinguished from the husband or hus- uiann. He is like the cyne-hlaford, the head of the kin, who develops into the king, but not into the husband. 1 64 KINDRED GROUP-MARRIAGE the spouse of the hone} This is well illustrated by the fact that the zupan very early obtained in Croatia the foreign or German name of hiez, or konig. We have, in fact, to do with a kin or clan leader, its official head in administrative, judicial, and military matters. There is evidence to show that he was in early times elected by the zupa ; later the office became hereditary, or the appointment was made by the national king. The zupan was maintained, partly by a grant of the common land of the zupa partly by a portion of the royal taxes on the zupa, and partly by annual traditional gifts exactly corresponding to those paid to the obman or malilmann by the markgenosse?ischaft. To still further illustrate the close relation of the zupa to the hiwa, we may note that the zupa maintained a burg, or fenced place of arms, — corresponding closely to the haga or haia. Round this so-called grada, or haia, were the huts or dwellings of a group of blood- related households who tilled the common lands of the community under the guidance of the leader of the bratsvo or brotherhood. 2 The bratsvo still exists. Each blood-related household, which embraces several families, looks carefully after the marriages of its members, but at the same time pays from the common purse the charges of the marriage feast. While exogamy is now the rule, there is a good deal of folklore evidence to show that 1 Ducange cites a number of examples of zuppa and zupanus for district or parish, and its presiding officer. The words also appear in mediaeval Latin as supa and supanos. I suspect the suppar — socms, who is in this case also cognatus, cited in another place by Ducange, is also one of the zupa, or of the kin. 2 A bratsvo is a community of several blood-related households with common lands and patron -saint ; a zupa seems to have been primitively much the same organisation. GENERAL WORDS FOR SEX AND KINSHIP 165 endogamy was once the custom of these communistic kindred households. A great feature of a bratsvo, as of the (jiparpla, is the kin-feast, conducted by the alderman of the group household. It is held in honour of the kin- saint or patron, who has no doubt usurped the place of some heathen deity. The revelry ends with choruses and dances of youths and maidens, certain of these dances being of the type otherwise only performed at weddings. 1 Thus, whether we consider the zupa as philologically related or not to the sibja, we find among the Southern Slavs precisely the same communistic kin -households with their fenced place, their judicial arrangements, common land, and kin-festivals as we have found among Germans and Greeks. It is clear that we are dealing with a type of Aryan civilisation, not with something peculiarly German ; and what is more a type funda- mentally inconsistent with the patriarchal system. (10) Another general word for sex-relationship is freien, with the noun freite, one of the earliest Teutonic words for sexual freedom. It is noteworthy that freien now stands for the wooing or courtship which precedes marriage, and very generally but by no means universally all sex-relationship. Precisely in the period of wooing, however, the woman, even under the patriarchal system, has more of equality and comrade- ship than at any later period. The period of courtship forms, I believe, a faint reflex of the relation of the sexes in the mother-age. This period is essentially a 1 For the above and many other particulars of the Supa and bratsvo see Krauss, Sitte u. Brauch dcr Svdslaven, Vienna, 1885. 1 66 KINDRED GROUP-MARRIAGE time of freedom for the woman, and it is remarkably significant that the modern name for it should be that for the free intercourse of the old social system. It shows that comradeship — freedom and friendship— were ideas evolved from a sex-relationship, which nowadays would be universally condemned as antisocial. The ultimate root of freien is fri, Sanskrit pri, to embrace, love in the sexual sense, enjoy. In Sanskrit Pritis is the wife of the god of love ; prijas is the loved one, the bridegroom, the spouse, and prijd, the loved woman ; prijdja is to be intimate. Gothic frijon is to love, frijapva signifies sexual love, and frijons kiss ; frijonds and frijdndia stand for male and female lovers, friends. A.S. frigjan is to love, to embrace, andfreod is love. O.N. fri is spouse, wooer, fria to love. Danish frie is woo, marry. Dutch vrijen, M.H.Gr. vrien, both to woo. 1 L.G. frijte stands for wooing, and thence we might pass to a variety of Teutonic words deduced from freien, still extant, and denoting courtship, wooing, or matrimony. We may further note Bohemian pritel, a male friend or lover; O.N. fri/sill, Landsmaal fr-idla, O.H.Gr. friudil, lover, bridegroom, spouse ; friedila, a loved woman; 2 and M.H.Gr. milchvriedel, a beardless lover. Danish frille stands for mistress or concubine, Friesian 1 I suspect Gothic fraiv, seed (as iu the parable of the sower), and race or offspring, O.E. fri for family or offspring, and English fry, Swedish fro for spawn, are related to the root fri, as htwo, spouse, and hiwa, family, hive, to the root hi. 2 It is most noteworthy that in O.H.G. fri udalin is used of a concubine, and friedila is used for virago, for a woman quae virile implet officium, runs the gloss ; strange but weighty evidence of the imjjortance of women under the old free sexual system, and of the impression they formed on the men of the new civilisation. GENERAL WORDS FOR SEX AND KINSHIP 167 frudelf is a lover. With such evidence as this before us, there can, I think, be no doubt that the primitive value of fri is love in the sexual sense ; and, further, that love as a bond between friends is the outcome of this sexual love. In participle form we have, besides the Gothic frijdnds already cited : O.N. friantr, friends ; later fraendi, confidant, relative, friend; O.S. friund, relative, friend ; O.H.G. vriunt and vrunt, relative, male lover, spouse, friend, but also serf and vassal ; Dutch vriend, Friesian friond and friuene ; O.S., 0. Swedish, and O.H.G. variations of friuntscaf are rendered by relationship, friendship, intimacy, and unfriuntscaf is all that is hostile to the friantseafida. Now the historical evolution of the word is certainly sexual lover, relative, friend, retainer, serf. We have, in fact, precisely the same succession of ideas as in hkvo. Grimm asserts that in the older languages a distinction is made between mag and vriunt, the kinsman and the friend, but he cites nobody earlier than Walther von der Vogelweide ; and the notion of relative and kinsman attaches to vriunt or friend in all Teutonic dialects, of which the separation occurred ages before Walther's day. Thus, in Norse, fraendi is especially the kinsman as opposed to ven, the friend, in modern sense. In the Nibelungenlied we find friunde occur as the persons who may be kissed, e.g. the kin. 1 In old M.L.G. law-books vrunt is used frequently for relative, and vruntelinh for one of the kin, corresponding to A.S. frundeling, 1 The limitation of the kiss of women to the blood kin is of special signifi- cance, when we note how the words for sexual intimacy and kissing pass into each other, e.g. Gothic frijons, kiss, is here to the point. KINDRED GRO UP-MARRIA GE a relative ; also freund, frunt, is repeatedly used for venvandter in the Tyrolese Weisthumer. Swedish has Jrdnka, fraeundkona for female relative, and O.H.G. friuntin, M.L.G. vriundin, denote not only the mis- tress and concubine, but also the consanguinea. Indeed, vriuntschaft is used for consanguinitas, blood relation- ship, and also, but probably later, for affinitas. Nagel- vriunt is identical with nagelmac, and often the only additional persons included in the vriunde beyond the mac are the members of the household, the vassals — pre- cisely the extension we have seen in the use of Mwa. Thus we see the chain connecting two such different glosses as friunte = parentis and friuntscalh = cliens or serf. We accordingly conclude that the notion of friend- liness has arisen from the old kindred group-marriage, in precisely the same way as the notions of kindliness, comfort, and beauty in kind, behaglich, gemachlich, etc. Before we pass to another important conception acquired by the old mother-age vriunte, we may briefly consider the old deities associated with this root fri or pri. Besides Sanskrit Pritis for the wife of the god of love ; Prije is the old Bohemian goddess of love. Then we have a wide range of Teutonic mother-goddesses, goddesses of fertility and sex. In the first place, we may note Frea of the Langobards ; then, farther north, Fria, Frija, from whom our Friday is derived, essentially a northern Venus ; and ultimately, in Scandinavia, we have two notable forms — Freyja, Frowd, Fraujo, or simply Fru [Fran), a most typical mother- age goddess, as well goddess of death as of fertility ; and Frigg, Friche, or GENERAL WORDS FOR SEX AND KINSHIP 169 Fricke? Woden's wife, whom Paul the Deacon identi- fies witli Frea, and who is essentially a goddess of sex. Frowd is a good example of the early mother-age, for she marries her brother Freyr. The names of both mark the old brother and sister wooers, and are especially valuable, as her name has become the general name for woman and wife. She is the woman, the wooer, par excellence. Frigg, on the other hand, bears the girdle of Aphrodite ; the plough, the symbol of fertility, is sacred to her, while the cat, which shares with the dog — the attendant of Holla and Wafpurga — the doubtful honour of representing lustfulness among the Teutons, is her constant companion. From the Oddrunar-Grdtr in the Edda we learn that both Frigg and Freyja were appealed to by women in labour. We further see how in the later father-age the earlier freedom of sex in Frigg and Freyja is brought out as traditional. Thus in the Hyndlolibd, Hyndla accuses Freyja of a pro- miscuity worthy of a she-goat, running after her lover at night. In the Lokasenna Loki finds Freyja full of lewdness, for all the Anses assembled in Aegir's hall had been in turn her paramour. Frigg in the same song Loki scolds as a wanton, for she had taken to her bosom Yea and Vilja, Odin's brothers. Thus we see in both Frigg and Freyja survivals in a father-age mythology of mother -age deities — daughters of Mother Earth — whose early practice of kin group -marriage survives only as a tradition to be raked up by Loki, when he chaffs the assembled gods. The relation of Frowd to 1 This guttural modification of Froiva should be compared with the hig variants of hi, e.g. higc for Mwe, etc. i;o KINDRED GROUP-MARRIAGE the earth and to fertility is evidenced in some interest- ing O.H.G. glosses. Thus Erdfrdwa is a gloss for Cybele, and Liutfrdwa for Juno Populonia. As frei, free, is related to Frea, and froh, glad, to Frowd and Frd, so frecJc, shameless, is related to Fricke ; they suggest the essential features of the sexual character of these Teutonic mother-goddesses, who are the AVestern representatives of Astarte, Isis, and Anaitis. They are frei, froh, and freak all at once. I do not think we can separate the ultimate root of Frea from Frau, and the Sanskrit pri, embrace, enjoy, finds a corresponding cognate in pra-av, satisfy, satiate. Associated with this we have the Wendish god Prove, the god of the plough- share, and counterpart of Freyr, the wooer and par- amour. The notion of the sex-relation as ploughing, or sowing, tilth, is common to nearly all Aryan nations, 1 and the goddess of sex is invariably the goddess of the plough, of agriculture and fertility in general. A highly suggestive parallel may, in this respect, be drawn between Demeter -Ceres and Freyja. Demeter is essentially Mother Earth, and is the paramour of her brother Zeus. She helps man to the discovery of the plough, and teaches him how to sow corn. The Thesmophoria in her honour commemorate the origin of civilisation, which may be identified with the beginnings of agriculture. Demeter falls in love with a mortal, and lies with him in a thrice-ploughed field. In Germany a field is made fertile by the Frau, doubtless symbolising Frowd, going through a representation of the same act. A somewhat similar folk-custom used to be gone through as a maiden completed the operation of grafting fruit trees. In both 1 See Appendix III. GENERAL WORDS FOR SEX AND KINSHIP 171 we have close traces of the origin of agriculture and horti- culture in the old woman-civilisation, with its peculiar worship of mother-goddesses of fertility. Such worship is to be found also in those other festivals of Demeter, the Cereal la and Eleusinia, which were essentially sur- vivals of the old woman-directed religious observances of the mother-age. They may be illustrated from the witch-gatherings and periodic festivals of the Middle Ages. At present I must be content to point out how freien leads us up to the kin-group, with its periodic sex- festivals and its licentious worship of mother-goddesses. There remains, however, two important senses of the root which I have not yet touched upon, — those of frei or free, and f reticle, joy. As the kin are the friends, 1 so the kinsman is the freeman as distinguished from the bondsman ; the source of the idea ' freedom ' is to be sought in the bond between the old vriunte or co-wooers. As Grimm long ago pointed out, the root fri takes us into a chain of words dating from the highest antiquity. These words cross and recross into each other with a great flexibility of sense, but they are one and all intelligible if we go back to the primitive mean- ing of fri, — which is undoubtedly that of sexual love, — and then attempt to realise the circumstances of that kin-group which was the primitive unit for family, society, and sex. It was in the kin-group of wooers, among the vriunte, that there was freedom, peace, and pleasure. Precisely as other names for the kin-wooing 1 With Frecc and the vriunte may be compared "Hpa and the -ijpwes, the tribal mother and her progeny, the freemen, who have become the goddess and the tribe-founders. I take Latin heres to be related ; it stood for the male or female member of the kin-group, the heirs. i72 KINDRED GROUP-MARRIAGE are the sources of kindness and comfort 1 (sibsam, win- some, gemachlich, kind, higlich, gdtlich, etc.), so the root fri, in the early dawn of civilisation, gives us the first conceptions of friheit, fridu, and frawi, the basis of all further human achievements. It is only by grasp- ing the original primitive sources of these three ideas that we can appreciate why it is that their cognates so often return to their primitive sex- value, or under- stand why so many equivalent terms appear from one and another of these three words. From the notion of sex-freedom among the kin springs the conception of the kinsman as the freeman, as distinguished from the bondsman ; and from the freeman, with his privileges, the whole judicial system suggested by f raiding, frei- gericht, and freiherr. To make a man a freeman is to make him of the vriunte, of the kin-wooers ; and thus freien means either liber are or matrimonium inire. Freiding is only another fuller development of the Mrath and the mahal, and the freiherr a disguised form of the kin-alderman, the mahlmann or zupan. But the whole series of words for freedom carries us, like libertas, up and down the scale, from the highest to the lowest conceptions ; free has its good and bad senses. 2 The freihart is the stroller, the vagabond ; the freifrau is not only the freiherr' s wife, in early times she is the mulier vaga, and the word is used like freiweib for a prostitute — a double development 1 Even from this root fri we note the first befriedigung and frcude as the sexual. Compare Sanskrit prill for befriedigung and prita, loved, pleased. 2 Curiously enough the notion of licentious in frei passes over at every turn into the notion of joyous, beautiful, and commendable, as in vri wnd rrum, and Lessing's JFiefrei, wie schmi ist sic. GENERAL WORDS FOR SEX AND KINSHIP 173 precisely comparable with queen and quean. Freimann is not only a freeman, but also a wooer and a pimp, just Hikefreier, which leads us to freierin saidfreierei in bad senses. Even a trace of the same idea has associated itself with freigeist and freethinker, which latter has often been identified with libertine. Noteworthy is the sense attached to freihof and freiort, not merely of free land or house, but of a place of shelter or refuge, — it is the kin -dwelling as an asylum. This leads us up to freiung or vriunge for a fenced-in or palisaded place of refuge — precisely the notion of the hag. Thus the friedhof is also called freihof, and we pass to the notion of friede, Jriedigung, as in einfriedigung, and Swabian frid ] and gefride, a fence, — the freedom or peace maintained by a fence. In this case the fridhag, fridgatter, and fridzaun (a gloss for sepes), as parts of the old mark system, are of great suggestiveness. The fact that all early judicial assemblies were held in the open air, and derived all their authority from a society of freemen, makes the proclamation of bann and frid, and the hegung of the gericht, of special importance. The notion associated in the earliest times with bann and frid, as in fridbann, was much more that of a limita- tion to the ffoino- and comino- a fencing in of the assembly, than one of orderliness and peace in the modern sense of these words. Spannen is used in much the same way as hegen. The lager, camp, or ' outspanning ' of a group of freemen or kinsmen, is as much the origin of the judicial unit of peace as it 1 Compare the deorfrid of the Saxon Chronicle. 174 KINDRED GROUP-MARRIAGE is of the social and sexual units. The freiding passes insensibly over into the O.H.G. friduding. The fried \e words, however, pass just like the frei words back to the sexual sense with friedel and friedela. If we turn to the notion of fri in frawi, fraivida, freude, joy, we find this phase of the root closely associated with O.H.G. fro, the man, master, lord (Gothic frauja, O.S. fraho), and O.H.G. frowd (Norse fra, German frau), the woman, lady. These words frd and frowd, are identical with the Norse divini- ties Freyr and Freyja. 1 Grimm would deduce fro, man, from froh, joyous, but this seems to invert the natural order ; the fundamental idea still seems that of wooers or sexual-lovers, and the notion of pleasure or joy is deduced from this. The word has remained with its primitive weight in freudenhaus, freudenmadchen, freudenspiel, and freudenkind. As Grimm has him- self pointed out, there is in freude a strong sense of voluptas, the pleasures of the meal and of sexual love, — an aspect of the word represented in freudenmahl and freudentanz. The double sense of free is represented in other words than those from the root fri. Thus O.H.G. laz is free and libertimis in the double sense, while lazza is a harlot. But a still more complete analogy for the origin of the notion of freedom in the group-marriage will be found in the Latin liber, free, itself. Here liberi denotes, like fry, the offspring, the free kin. But liber, besides free and frank, also means licentious. 1 Freya and Freyja are essentially the brother and sister wooers, the man and woman, the brother anil the bride. GENERAL WORDS FOR SEX AND KINSHIP 175 Even Freyr and Freyja find something of counterparts in the deities Liber and Libitina, the first a god of lust, and the second a goddess of death ; but probably, like Freyja and other mother -goddesses, originally a goddess of fertility as well as a goddess of death, 1 — a view confirmed by the identification of Libitina with Persephone} In the form lib or lub\ the sense of liber passes essentially to that of pleasure, desire, lust, sex- love. The Sanskrit root is lubh or lob, desire; lubdha is lustful, and such words as Latin Inhere and lubido indicate the peculiar significance. The root appears in Slavonic Ijub, whence ljuba, a spouse; A.S. liof, O.F. liaf, a spouse, male lover ; M.H.G. Hep, the liebchen or loved one. Then we have a whole round of cognates in lieb and lore, which the reader can easily follow up if he desires to trace how mankind has evolved the noblest of human attributes out of an original lust. 3 "What is quite clear is that the primitive value of lub is sexual desire, and this root corresponds completely to fri, although the notion of freedom has only remained in the Latin liber. Connected with the same root we have the German verlobung, although, perhaps, indirectly. The primi- tive notion of desire, lust, changes in the Gothic galubs to the desired, the valued ; and hence, through the idea of praised, approved, as in loben and geloben, to the conception of a mutual approval, contract, vow. 1 Compare the Celtic Tailltiu, at once a goddess of death and agriculture, i.e. fertility. See p. 200. 2 Persephone was undoubtedly a goddess of fertility ; it is characteristic that she was the child of a brother-sister union. 3 The notion in lust of relaxation, freedom (Teutonic /«.?, to set free), may itself be compared with the idea of freedom in liber and fn 7. 176 KINDRED GROUP- MARRIAGE as in geliibde. The earliest use of loben with regard to marriage does not appear to have connoted what we should now understand by a marriage vow or promise, but rather a mutual approval expressed in the presence of the kin, out of which the notion of the compact or promise itself developed and became attached to the lub' root. Thus originally verlobung is not the promise of future nuptials, but the expression of mutual approval, which follows the recognition of mutual desire. 1 In fact, we can trace almost stage by stao;e the evolution of the word from the mere notion of sexual desire in lub' up to the promise of future nuptials conveyed in verlobung. It is also clear that in the earliest period the gelobnis, or the lofte, was immediately followed by the sexual union. Both Fischart and Luther use the word verloben as identical with marriage. In M.L.G. lovelber is used for the marriage feast, and brutloft is identical with marriage. Here we may also draw attention to the mediaeval gelobtanz or lobetanz, a dance of the whole commune in a public place. In the sixteenth century we are told the young women would not serve in the parsonages, because they were not allowed to go over the green to the lobetanz. Whitsuntide and St. Lawrence's Day (August 10th) were the times, and under the linden tree was the place for these dances, which a sixteenth- century writer tells us " were maintained by our ances- tors in order that their children might be seen by their neighbours, and marriages result." It is difficult not 1 It is not only that the approval, lob, follows the desired, but that what is the desired is the be-lievcd, the glauben, — an argument for the acceptance of belief recently advocated by a distinguished author ; see vol. i. Essay Yl. GENERAL WORDS FOR SEX AND KINSHIP 177 to see in these dances a fossil of the old sex -festival with its hileih or chorus. What we here deduce from philological considerations is amply confirmed by folk- lore. 1 The verlobung in many country districts is the all -important factor in the marriage ceremony. There is always a schmaus, a rede, and a tanz ; in other words, all the elements of the old group mahal. In old days, too, the sexual union at once followed, and preceded the trauung, which in the Church sense often did not take place at all, or not till long after- wards. This view of verlobung, as really resulting from the ancient mother-age sex-relations, receives con- firmation from the old Prussian use of saMba and the Polish use of s'lub for marriage. Thus verlobung, with its Scandinavian cognates, meaning now betrothal, must be in the first place associated with the sex-idea in lubh. Of the two elements of the modern sex-union, the verlobung is the mother-age fossil, and the trauung, or ilbergabe der braut, the patriarchal supplement of the primitive marriage form. With love, as derived from the sexual lubh, may be compared the love-series derived from Aryan ha, kar, ham, to yearn after, desire, love sexually. Sanskrit ham is to love, hamra is charming, cahamdnd, desire, yearn after, hdma, a wish ; Lettish hdrs is dainty, hdrot, to desire ; Slavonic hochati is love ; Irish cara is a friend, caraim, I love ; Latin caries is dear, beloved, caritia is the quality of being dear, affection (probably for camrus and camritia; possibly comis, for cosmis, 1 As I have mentioned above, I hope on another occasion to deal at length with peasant customs in their relation to the mother-age. VOL. II N 178 KINDRED GROUP-MARRIAGE friendly, loving, is also related), amo for camo, and all the terms dealing with the amorous and amatory may be added, e.g. amicus, friend, arnica, female friend, mistress ; caress = fondle, hug, is again from this root. Fick is of opinion that Gothic hors, a male lover, O.H.G. huora, English ivhore, are also derivatives of kar, with its primitive notion of sexually yearn after. Thus we see the sexual appetite again leading us to a series of less and less animal affections, passing through the ideas of what is charming, dainty, friendly, and concluding with all the feelings summed up in charity. An almost similar evolution leads us from the root ghar, to yearn after, through the notions of desiring, rejoicing, pleasing, to the ideas of grace and gratitude. In short, we pass from O.H.G. girt, giricli, glossed concupiscentia, to the graciousness of the CJiarites, by stages each one of which marks a gradual refinement of the purely sexual longing. It is possible that camera, chamber, and carmen, song, from the ham, kar root, and ^opTcx;, hortus, yard, with x°P^> chorus, from the ghar root (making no ultimate distinction between ghar, yearn after, and ghar, seize), correspond to the notions in gemach, hag, kw/jlt), and in hileih, tvinileod, Kwfiwhla, the mating-places and the mating-songs, which we find arising from other roots with primitively a sexual value. (11) A difficult root or possibly pair of roots may now be noted, namely, the Aryan dhar or dar, to hold, fix, keep. Thus we have Sanskrit clhri, to hold, and dridha, hard, firm. The Teutonic root trewa meaning the firm, the fast, and ultimately true, is really, I take it, at the base of the idea in both tree and true, although GENERAL WORDS FOR SEX AND KINSHIP 179 the tree notion only has survived in most Aryan tongues (Gothic trite, Danish trae, Slavonic drevo, Greek fy>£?, Sanskrit dru, ddru, etc., wood, tree, although these have been connected with the root dar, to split, tear). The notion of hold, keep, is widely retained, as in dpovos, a chair, throne, Latin jirmus and fretus, a bridle, and Sanskrit dhar, fix. Then we have the long series of Teutonic roots : O.H.G. treuxva, Friesian triuwa, A.S. treop, 0. Icel. trd, German treue, English truth and troth, with the verbs, O.H.G. triuwen, 0. Icel. trua, Gothic trauan, A.S. treopian, English trotv, etc. The general notion, as in treowscipe and trUleikr, is that of firmness, fidelity. It might at first be supposed that a formal plighting of fidelity was sufficient to explain the use of the root trewa in the sense of marriage, thus German trauen, English troth, and Dutch troiven, used in the sense of marry. But the remarkable feature of the use of this word for marry is this, that as we trace that use backwards, it appears to point more and more to a temporary or illicit sexual union arising from familiarity or confidence, and not to a permanent marriage. In the laws of the Langobard Liutprand (a.d. 723) triuuva is used of a peace - pledge, and in O.H.G. katriuuete denotes men who are thus linked together, foederati. Thus the Heliand describes Christ's disciples as triuiviston man, and causes the cen- turion of Capernaum to say that he has erlo gitrost. This Old Saxon gitrost, O.H.G. trust and trustis, has the sense of auxilium, clientela, or following, those fixed or bound by some form of pledge to a chief. O.N. traust is protectio, refugium, and O.H.G. trost, 180 KINDRED GROUP-MARRIAGE is solace, help, while trostjan is to console, comfort. Turning to another form of the root, we have trut in O.H.G. glossed dilectus, amicus, sodalis. It is used for a pupil or disciple ; Abraham's trute is his son ; in Otfrid God's drut is used for his angel. It is the dear one, the geliebter or the geliebte, the male or female lover. The Italian drudo is a gallant, a male lover, and druda a sweetheart, mistress ; the Gaelic drUth is a mistress, a prostitute. In O.H.G. triitin, trutinna, is the beloved woman, or sweetheart ; trfitscapht is intimacy, familiarity, sexual love ; trutliet is a love song, probably a ivinileod or Mleih; drutman is used by Otfrid for a beloved follower or vassal. In M.H.G. triitgemahele is a beloved wife, triitfriunt a loved friend, and trutgespielin a loved female comrade. These words show that the idea in trut is not that of a formal marriage pledge ; other- wise triitgemahele would be tautology. This is further evidenced by O.H.G. and M.H.G. triiten, triuten, love, fondle, and also know sexually; as well as M.H.G. trutschel, coquetry. The word trut appears also in a great number of O.H.G. names for women 1 as Adaltrut, Liuttrud, Gertrud, Sigitrud, etc., and this leads us to a still wider conception of its significance. For we find in Norse that Herthrtidr, Jarthriidhr, Sigthriidr, correspond to these names, while O.N. Tlirudhr is the name for a special goddess, the daughter of Thor ; but also for goddesses and occasionally for women in general, although it frequently marks a woman of titanic character, a Valkyrie. Later M.H.G. trut, trute, 1 Names for men, Trutpcrt, Trutwin, Trutman, Trutbald, etc. , suggest also their relationship to the trut or mistress. GENERAL WORDS FOR SEX AND KINSHIP 181 Bavarian and Tyrolese trud, drud, tnite, triitl, Modern German drude, denotes a witch, magic-working woman, or spirit, who comes as an incubus at night. That the trud who came and pressed the sleeper at night was, like the witch's devil (see Essay IX. p. 23), often very human, is evidenced by Bucher's tale of the Capuzine Father, who found out that his trut was the kerzlerin, i.e. the woman who sold votive candles in the church. Trutennacht is Walpurgisnacht, the night of the great witch feast and sexual gathering. Trutenbaum, Truten- hausen, Trutenberg, are all suggestive place-names for old folk - gatherings. Anglo - Saxon records show a Thryat or Drida, a wood -maiden, who ultimately married Offa of Mercia, but is stated to have com- mitted many evil deeds in both France and England. 1 Anglo-Saxon dry is magus, sorcerer, and dryas, male- fici, enchanters, may possibly be connected. The Drudenfuss is a well-known symbol of magic and of protection from magic. It will be seen that the drude or trut is in almost every respect identical with the hexe. In folklore there is precisely the same relation to children, to domestic animals, and to women in childbirth, as we find in the case of the hexe. Just as in the latter word, the male hexenmeister, so the druder, is derived from the female, and we find just the same sexual cult on the same day. Carrying the word back, we find its sexual weight still preserved but leading us in trut and trutina to mistress, spouse, and bride, and in many women's names to some- thing which denotes little more than female comrade. It 1 Possibly a nursery variant of the Drude is Dame Trot ; she at any rate is accompanied by the appropriate cat. Compare the German Frau Trutte. KINDRED GROUP-MARRIAGE seems to me that the evolution of triit is exactly parallel to that of the hagezisa,the hexe — the gradual corruption of a term for female comrade to the evil sense of female demon, 1 as the old heathen sexual customs become of bad repute. Accordingly I do not think that drude can be connected with any root meaning press, or oppress, as in English tread and Gothic us-thriutan, trouble. I think with Johannes Schmidt we must connect all these words for trude in the evil sense with Norse TJirudhr, and with Italian druda, the divine woman, and the loved one or mistress. 2 Hence ultimately we are led back to the idea in triu, Lithuanian driiitas, fixed, the idea of fast and firm, the idea of a group of people, who have trost, protection, solace, help, in the triuuva or peace-pledge among themselves ; 3 it is their schutz und trutz.* As usual, whenever we come across such a group, within which is peace, sibja, we find at once the free sexual relations, which are the physiological basis upon which such ' firm ' groups have been built up. The triitgeselleschaft is nothing more than the union, social and sexual, which we have already noted in the gamah- hida and the katiliyiga. The sexual and social group troth is the basis of all the more spiritual ideas which are afterwards associated with true and truth. Closely associated with the Aryan root dhar, hold, 1 Even Ulfilas had to render 8ai/j.6viov by the feminine unhultho. Unhohle appears to be only a derivative from Holde, an initially fairly beneficent goddess of fertility. 2 The term godes drUden for the Virgin Mary (e.g. Amsteiner Marienleich of 1140, see line 226) gives exactly the double sense of divine woman and of loved mistress on which the old monks delighted to play (see Essay XII.) 3 Compare the gamahhida as consortium foedus, pp. 142, 144. 4 O.H.G. truzi, clientcla, adherents ; compare trustis, referred to above. GENERAL WORDS FOR SEX AND KINSHIP 183 fix, is the guttural form dharg, having practically the same sense. The notion of hold appears in German tragan and English drag. Old Saxon and Anglo- Saxon dragan, carry, standing between the two. We get from this guttural form words with senses almost identical with the trut terms. Thus Old Slavonic drugu is socius, amicus ; Russian drugu, and druginja, amicus and arnica; Czech druh, druha, male and female comrades, druzny, companionable ; Lettish drdugs, comrade, drdudse, commune, drdudsiba, community ; Lithuanian draugas, draftgcdka, male and female com- panions, and drauge, community. Then we have Old Saxon druht, 0. Friesian dracht, Anglo-Saxon dryht, Old Norse drott, O.H.G. truht for a troop, a crowd, a folk, or even an army ; Gothic gadrauhts is a soldier. Close following on truht, we have the leader of the truht, the truhtin, truhtcn of O.H.G. and M.H.G., the lord, chief; A.S. dryhten, leader, prince, but often god; O.N. drottinn, leader, chief, and even priest. O.N. drottning, Swedish drottning, Danish dronning, lady of high estate, queen. In most Teutonic dialects truhten is specially used of God or Christ. A more especially folk-term is O.H.G. truhsdze, M.H.G. truhtsaeze, Old Friesian drusta, Swedish drottsdt, drots, Danish drost, the foresitter of the truht group, and later an important court-official, the representative of the king, truchsess, also the chief of the royal larder. So far we see in this root much the notion of the hatriuuete, the foederccti, or group held together by some special bond of comradeship ; but a few words suffice to show that this bond was originally sexual. Thus Polish druzba is ' Brautfuhrer,' Old 1 84 KINDRED GROUP-MARRIAGE Friesian dracht is used in general of the bridal following ; while A.S. drylitguma is vassal, follower, warrior, truhtigomo in O.H.G. is paranymphus, bridesman; O.H.G. truhtinc is pronuba, paranymphus, sodalis, sponsalis, and 0. Saxon druhting, drohting, a wedding- guest, one who attends the bridal procession and feast. Thus we are again led to the idea that our ' fast ' group is not only a social group and a military group, but also a bridal group ; the base of the truht is seen to be not only a peace-pledge, a civic unity, but also a sexual bond. It corresponds exactly to the words for marriage and family arising from the root e, or ehe, a pact. The co- sexual social unit may not be as clearly illustrated in the dhar and dharg terms as in some others we have come across, but we find unmistakable traces of it even here. (12) The last general words applicable to a co-sexual community to which I shall refer are offshoots from the Aryan root in Sanskrit bhu or bu, Greek u, Latin fe, and Teutonic bu or bau. The primitive value here appears undoubtedly to be to produce sexually, for this significance at least is common to all the Aryan languages. We then have the notions of procreate, grow, form, and ultimately produce or create in a non-sexual sense. Starting with the Greek we have <}>va), bring forth, produce, beget, generate, grow, wax, etc. : (f)vrcop is a father ; vr6v is a creature, a plant, a tree, and may be compared with German baum from root bau ; vTev(o still carry the notion of bear or beget, or engender ; Itv, the begotten ; $uX?; is a clan, connected GENERAL WORDS FOR SEX AND KINSHIP 185 by blood and local habitation, but it is also a primitive military unit, — a conception precisely identical with what we have traced in the hag and zupa words ; the same range of ideas is also associated with (f>v\ov and other co-radicates. Without the notion of clan we find the purely sexual weight of the root preserved in Latin fecundus, femina, fenus, fetus, and most probably feles, the cat as the fecund one, and felix, the fruitful and so the lucky. 1 Sanskrit has bhu with the conception of swell, burst ; bJwti for source, origin, and bull for the female sex-organs ; while in bhavana we pass to the notion of a dwelling as in the Teutonic words to be considered later. Turning now to the Gothic, we have two or three most valuable fossils. In ufbauljan the primitive notion of swelling is maintained ; in gabaur we have Ulfilas's rendering of /cw/ao?, a common meal and revel ; in gabaur- jopus we have the Gothic for lust and pleasure, while gabo/urjaba is fittingly ; lastly, gabauan is to dwell, and bauains, a dwelling. Thus in the root bhu we see the primitive idea of sex again expanding in the side notions of common meal and of dwelling, and of what is pleasur- able and fitting. 2 Besides these Gothic words, the sense of procreation, and so of lust, is still maintained in the widespread German folk-use oibauer; although this word is now used chiefly, but not invariably, for abuse of sex. Just as we found hag and gemach expressing not only dwelling-places, but related through sexual significance to the ideas of comfort and pleasure, so we find bauer also used of a habitation in O.H.G. pur, A.S. bilr, and English boiver. In particular, it seems used in Old Norse, Old 1 Is fcnum, hay, possibly related to the root /I', as hay itself to hi? - See pp. 143, 160, etc. 1 86 KINDRED GROUP-MARRIAGE High German, and Anglo-Saxon for the place of the females or of the bride, the brut in biire, 1 a notion still retained in the form byre, a shed for cows. When we turn to bauer, a peasant, we must, in the light of the above, consider it as ultimately related to the primitive sexual value of vco, and the word parent has a like origin. Accordingly we may ask, whether any trace of the sexual idea is to be associated with the root pdf The reply must be in the affirmative. The Sanskrit patis denotes a spouse, Greek 7roo-t?, has the same meaning ; ttotvlo, is heme, queen, and mistress. Latin potens and impotens carry with them the notion of sexual virility and its opposite. We have also 7^0?, 7rao?, kinsman, and Latin paro in paricida, mark- ing an Aryan root pdsos. Possibly connected with the root pd are Sanskrit pdsas, Greek 7reo? for the female organ of sex; and Greek 7reo?, Latin penis (?for pesnis), M.H.G. vasel, A.S. faselt for the male organ. Noteworthy in this respect is the O.H.G. fasel for proles, offspring. Further, Gothic fodjan, 0. S. fodian, O.H.G. fotjan, M.H.G. vuten, O.S. fuddan, have the sense of fill, feed, and, according to Schade, of gebaren. SPECIAL WORDS FOR SEX AND RELA TIONSHIP 207 This is certainly true of Old Saxon fodian, which is used in the sense of bear, produce, in the Heliand. O.N. foesa is procreate, as well as bring forth ; and Swedish foda, Danish fode, are both to nourish and to bring forth. In such words there appears to be a fossil of an old meaning of the pd series, namely, to feed or fill in a sexual sense — a conception retained by Milton in the lines : — Zephyr with Aurora playing, As he met her once a-maying, There on beds of violets blue, And fresh-blown roses washed in dew, Filled her with thee a daughter fair, So buxom, blithe, and debonair. Or, by Shakespeare, 1 when he writes in Measure for Measure : — Your brother and his lover have embraced : As those that feed grow full, as blossoming time That from the seedness the bare fallow brings To teeming foison, even so her plenteous womb Expresseth his full tilth and husbandry. If we take the primitive sense of pd to he, Jill, we see how the notion of pabulum, fodder, and the conception of father as (jjvrwp arises. There is still a further series of words to be noted. Most of the German writers identify vuoter, food, and vuoter in the sense offutteral, sheath, case, — in other words, the ' fill ' and the filled. Now the Gothic fodr is sheath, vagina; O.H.G. /Star, fodar, A.S. fodder are theca, envelope, sheath. Medi- aeval Latin fodrus, Italian fodero, are both occasionally 1 In an allied sense when he makes Adriana complain in the Comedy of Errors that her husband " breaks the pale and feeds from home." 2o8 KINDRED GROUP-MARRIAGE used with the sexual significance. In the fifteenth-century Fastnaclitspiele there is a good deal of obscene play on this double meaning of vuotar, and the term vuotar - wanne for the female organs of sex carries us at once to Milton and the conception of pd in the father series. One further word must be noted : M.H.G. vut, Icelandic and Norse fu®, Modern German fuel and fotze for the female sex-organs. 1 Schmeller connects fud with O.S. fuodan, as Fick connects pdtra, Sanskrit for vessel, holder, with pa, nourish, feed. 2 It would thus simply be equivalent to vuotar, the sheath. We thus see the original value of the pd or father root, to lie in ' fill,' developing on the one side into fill with food, and on the other with child, the two primitive savage concep- tions. The ' fill ' value of the root is borne out by two series of words denoting the ' fill ' or fodder, and the filled — vagina. If this view be correct, the primitive Aryan father must not be looked upon as one having special relations to the household, still less to the child, but as simply a lover of the mother — a (f>vTu>p. 3 (6) As we have found a special name for the mother's sister almost interchangeable with the name mother itself, so we find there is one for father's brother closely related to father. This is Sanskrit pitrvjas, 1 The word/wrf is used for woman in Bavaria without any double meaning, also gefudach for womankind. In the Tyrol it is still used, but contemptuously. In A\\ga.n fodel, contracted into f el, is still retained in use for woman. 2 Possibly an r has been lost, i.e. vutr for Gothic foclr, as A.S. fafie, father's sister, for /afire. 3 In another widely-spread Aryan word for father, Greek rdra, Bohemian lata, Welsh tad, English dad, Bavarian tatte, and Westphalian teite (see the Marchen, Be beiden Kilnigeskinncr), we do not find any definite idea of paternity. Thus Sanskrit tdtas is friend, Greek rirra is a term of affection used by a youth to his elder ; while the corresponding Sanskrit form tdta is used by parents and teachers to children. Bavarian tattl is any old man, from the deity to the village dotard. SPECIAL WORDS FOR SEX AND RELA TIONSHIP 209 Greek Trdrpw^, Latin patruus, A.S. fddera, 0. Fries. federia, O.H.G. fataro, L.G. redder, M.H.G. vetero, Modern German vetter. Originally these words stood for father's brother, but then we find the sense extended to patruelis, father's brother's child, and ultimately to cousins. It seems to me that feteron was probably the title of all the adult males of the gamahhida group in relation to the children, as mdmen stood for the adult females. But the males who were feteron to the children of the group, were vetter in the modern sense among themselves ; hence the double and somewhat confusing sense of the word. Even to the days of Luther we still find vetter used in the sense of father's brother, along- side its use for father's brother's son. As strong evidence that feteron were a group of co-fathers, I would cite the Anglo-Saxon law as to halsfang, a penalty to be paid to the near relatives of one who had been killed. " Heals-fang gebyres bearnum brosrum and faxleran." l " Halsfang belongs to children, brothers, and feteron." Here it is hard to conceive that the paternal uncle is included to the exclusion of the father, but rather bearnum stands for the younger, brforum for the contemporary, and fcederan for the elder generation. This view is confirmed by the use of the phrase binnan cneoive for the same group, for the relations intra genu certainly included the father. Another remarkable use of the word, which again suggests the primitive value of feteron as the co- fathers of the group, arises from the use of O.H.G. gavatero, A.S. gefaedera, 0. Fries, fadera, Danish 1 R. Schmid, Die Gesctze dcr Angelsachsen, 1858, p. 394. VOL. II P KINDRED GROUP-MARRIAGE /adder, and Modern German gevatter for godfather. Ninth - century glosses give gavatero for compater, and gavatera 1 for commater, godfather and godmother. It is singular that these terms, which can only be strengthened forms of fetero and faedera, 2 should have been chosen at such a comparatively early date for the Christian sponsors. Indeed the Middle Latin com- pater and commater look much more like a translation of gavateron than vice versa. Some light on this point might be obtained from a study of the early use of com- pater and commater. In one respect their use differs very widely from modern godfather and godmother ; the latter terms mark a relationship between the sponsors and child, the former precisely as gafatero and gafatera, mark a relation between sponsors and the child's parents. Thus the Lex Langobardorum (ii. 8, § 5) expressly defines a commater as commater to one whose child she has taken from the font, or to one who has taken her child from the font. 3 A decretal of a.d. 614 (Lex Canonica, Pars II. Causa xxx. Quaestio i.) orders that a man shall not continue to live as husband with his wife, if she has by mischance acted as godmother to her own child. The wife is spoken of as the man's commater, and in Modern German gevatterin would translate it, but clearly not English godmoth er. Thus the compatres or gafateron are much closer and more familiar relations than godfather and godchild, — they belong, as a rule, to one and the 1 The feminine is not such an anomaly as it might first appear, if p& (as in fodian) be conceived as having attained the meaning reproduce, bear, as well as procreate ; thus we have Gothic fadrcins for both parents. 2 Compare Friesian fcdria, fetha, father's brother, with faedrum, father 'um, godfather. 3 This sense was accurately retained for many centuries in the Lex Canon ica. SPECIAL WORDS FOR SEX AND RELATIONSHIP 211 same generation. In this sense compater ondgafatero, or gevatter, are used as terms of address between equals where there is no spiritual relationship, or at least where no stress is laid on it. Thus in M.H.G. comrades in the fight address each other as gevatter, and Isengrin the wolf calls Reynard the fox gevatere! The dog is gevatter to the wolf in Grimm's Marchen, No. 48 ; the fox and the wolf, gevatter and gevatterin in No. 74 ; and the gevatterschaft is a pretty widely-spread relationship among the characters in Der alte Hildebrand (No. 95). Hugo von Trimberg and many mediaeval writers use gevatter in the sense of English gossip and French commere, for intimates and even scandalmongers. 1 The former idea of intimacy is probably retained in the term Gevatter Tod. It may be said this use of gevatter is only a degeneration of its use for a spiritual relationship, which marked a much closer intimacy in the Middle Ages than it does to-day. I am inclined, however, to believe that more weight must be given to the origin of the term in the feteron of the primitive social group. In this respect the frequent association of vetter and gevatter as terms for intimates, and the fact that the earliest— ninth-century — gevatter gloss is givatarun, com- matrem spiritualem, are suggestive for both the original gavateron and the original commatres or compatres having also had a non-spiritual meaning. 2 Bearing in 1 Low German vadder is compater, vadderkols, gossip, vaddcrspel, nepotism ; while vaddcrsche, commuter is even used to render Latin nv.trir. - The terms compater spiritualis and commater spiritual is, which Ducange cites from an early date, would appear to illustrate the existence of a non-spiritual compater and commater. The earliest use of these terms would certainly appear to be Germanic. Thus they occur in the Lex Langobardorum and in a cartulary of Karl the Great. The Council of Mainz in a.d. 813 speaks of conqxitres KINDRED GRO UP-MARRIA GE mind what has been said of the mediaeval frauengadem, — as remaining as a fossil of the sexual license of the old kin-group, — it is somewhat noteworthy to find the term commatres used for young women living in the houses of bishops and priests about 1300, whose conduct created scandal, while the term to go ad commatres seems to have been used in a still worse sense. Ducange gives instances of compater being used for sodalis, amicus, and not in a spiritual sense ; 1 and a particularly important case of the date 855, in which compater actually denotes the father's sister's husband, is also cited by him. Such a use is quite intelligible if the compatres were originally the males of the kin-group, sharing bed and board ; it becomes quite obscure if the term compater was a term originally devised to cover the spiritual relationship. Turning back, indeed, to heathen times we find asso- ciated with the exposure of children practices closely akin to Christian baptism. The new-born child in Scandinavia was either taken to the father, or left on the floor (golf) where, according to ancient custom, the mother had given it birth, for its fate to be settled. If the father took it to his breast or raised it from the ground, its life was preserved, otherwise it was exposed. If the father accepted the child, he was asked how it should be named ; he then poured water over it and gave it a name. Occasionally he left this ceremony to one of his near kin, who then named and ' baptized ' spirituales, and the same words are used by the Council of Worms in 868. The term patrinus also appears to have a Germanic origin, — it is used first in a charter of Pipin (a.d. 752) — and, as I have hinted in the text, I expect compater as well as patrinus to be late Latin translations of gcvattcr. 1 Note also how French pa rrain, godfather, is used for a second in a duel and for any intimate friend ; also un bon compere = a merry fellow. SPECIAL WORDS FOR SEX AND RELATIONSHIP 213 the child. This same heathen ' baptism ' — with the naming of, and the pouring water over, the child — existed also in Germany. 1 We find both German and Scandinavian heathendom fighting hard on the advent of Christianity for this right of exposure, and there can be little doubt that the heathen ceremony of infant baptism influenced the Christian. It was precisely the males of the old kin -group who would be concerned with the preservation or exposure of a new life ; they took upon themselves the responsibility for it, and hence the name gavateron, originally equivalent to fateron, was very naturally adopted for the Christian sponsors and name-givers of the new-born child. 2 It would appear that Boniface must have written to Gregory III. about this heathen baptism, for w^e find that Pope writing in reply that such baptism is to be held invalid. 3 Ecclesiastical decrees of a later date forbidding any persons to assert compatemitas, because they have poured water on the linen or swaddling clothes of the infant, appear also to be directed against a heathen survival. 4 Brother Berthold, so late as 1250, preached against baptismal practices of an apparently heathen origin. 5 The earliest account we have of Chris- tian baptism, Tertullian's work against Quintilla, 6 shows 1 See Weinhold : Altnordisclics Leben, pp. 260 ctscq., and Die deutschen Fraucn in dcm Mittelalter, ii. p. 95. 2 A good deal of the gevattcr folklore thus becomes intelligible, e.g. the proverb, Wer bei seiner ersten Gevatterschaft tin unelieliehes Kind hebt hat Gliick znm heirathen, may be taken to mean that he who becomes one of the fateron in a kin-group (i.e. where the children are ' fatherless ') will have the favour of the women or join in the old hi-rath (see p. 137). 3 Jaffu, Bibliotheca rcrum Qermamcarv/m, iii. s. 91. 4 See Ducange under fasciatorium and compatemitas. 5 J. Grimm, Kleinere Schriftcn, Bd. iv. p. 325. 6 See Opera, Lyons, 1675. Be BaiMsuw, a.d. 160-200. 214 KINDRED GROUP-MARRIAGE us that originally the ceremony concerned in the first place adults, and Tertullian refers only in Cap. 18 (fol. 231) to child baptism as an undesirable thing. He mentions it as introducing a new danger owing to the need for sponsores. The term compater is not used. It would thus appear that infant baptism was unusual in Tertullian's day. We may therefore, I think, conclude that the growth of infant baptism was largely favoured by Germanic heathen customs — the Church adapting, as in so many other cases, what it found already existing to its own usages. If that be so, the special characteristics and the folklore of the Teutonic gevatter may alike be taken as illustrative of the fateron, or group of fathers of the old kin-community. 1 (7) If the terms for mother's sister and for father's brother originally stood for any of the women of one generation, and for any of the men of one generation within the kin -group, then we should not expect any 1 In the Saxon Laws, Ine (before 694) has godfceder, godsunu, JEthelrted has (circa 1008) gefaederan, and Canute (circa 1026) uses the same word. The exact meaning of god in godfather and godmother is very open to question. It is hardly god, deus, as Skeat, for example, among many writers suggests. O.H.G. gota is admater, commuter, godmother, and gbtti is adpater, compater, godfather ; gotele is filiola, goddaughter. From the Middle Ages we have gott, patemus, gottin,' mater nus, gottlein, filiolus, and gotta, filiola, in fact, the whole of the Anglo- Saxon godsib, modern gossip. The words are still in German dialect use, der god is the godfather, die godl, the godmother. Godl is, however, frequently used of the goddaughter, and indeed of any girl whatever. Gottcnloffel is the 'silver spoon' ; gotteit is gevatterschaft. This obscure O.H.G. goto, gota, has been associated with goting, tribu?ius, sacerdos\ (possibly also found in the place-names Gbding and Gottingen), and with Gothic gudja, Icelandic godi, priest, judge. However this may be, the source of god in god-parents is not the obvious one of god, deus, but in all probability dates from some hitherto unelucidated heathen notion involved in the O.H.G. names goto and gota. In this respect it seems, of significance that gotta, godfather, appears to be a derivative from gota, god- mother. The heathen goddess Frau Gode, who can be traced throughout large districts of Germany, must also be borne in mind. SPECIAL WORDS FOR SEX AND RELATIONSHIP 215 very definite names with cognates in all Aryan tongues for mother's brother and father's sister. Only when exogamy succeeded endogamy as the ruling custom would such names become necessary, and such change in custom hardly preceded the origin of the Aryan names for relationship. This expectation is justified in so far that the Teutonic words for mother's brother and father's sister do not find co-radicates of the same sense in all Aryan tongues. Further, their significance in the Teutonic dialects is itself very variable, and their primitive sense by no means clear. The word for mother's brother is O.H.G. oheim, M.H.G. dheim and dham, A.S. earn for eahdm, 0. Fries, em, M.L.G. ohm. The O.H.G. oheim is glossed avunculus, maternal uncle, and hoheimes sun, consobrinus, cousin-german through the mother. Prob- ably the word has the same root as Latin avus and Gothic ccva (grandmother), but the source of the word is very obscure, and its Gothic form, which might have been of assistance, has not been preserved. In late German, at any rate, the word is applied to father's brother and father's sister's husband. Comparatively early it is used of the sister's son or nephew, and then for other blood-relatives. In the second or exogamous period of the matriarchate, the mother's brother plays an important part, 1 and it is noteworthy that the two chief uses of oheim, i.e. for mother's brother and sister's 1 One among many fossil indications of this occurs when Brunhilda in the NibelwngeTiZied gives her castle and lands in charge to one ir hdhsten mage [er was ir ■muotcr bruoder), when she leaves for Worms. He is to look after it until her husband can come and manage it. Ultimately, of course, the latter will in turn be succeeded by her daughter's husband. Compare Creon's relation to Oedipus. 216 KINDRED GROUP-MARRIAGE son, correspond to the first heirs of a man under mother- right custom. 1 The most widespread German word for father's sister is O.H.G. basa, L.G. ivasa, and Modern German base. In O.H.G. we find basa, wasa, and pasa all glossed amita. In Modern German its use has occasion- ally been rather wide, thus Luther uses it for father's brother's wife, and in Low German we find it used even for mother's sister. Dialect uses show a still more general value. An old woman I knew, who used to sell wine in a tower at Lorch on the Rhine, was termed by the whole neighbourhood (in 1879) Sette bas, she being a public character on account of her having seen the Russians cross the Rhine when the Allies marched on Paris. In Bavaria the term basl is applied to any married woman, especially if she be old, and the term basele to any not fully grown girl. The origin of the word is very obscure. Grimm appears in favour of a derivation analogous to the Norse faster = far syster, and would equate basa and fadarsuestor. Graff, Deecke, and others connect basa with bosam, bdsm, English bosom. Thus gebusamen is glossed consanguineos, blood- relatives. According to the patriarchal system of these writers, the father's sister is the one who takes the motherless child of her brother to her bosom. But bosam in this sense denotes bosom, lap, relationship through the womb. In 0. Fries, boste, N. Fries, boaste is marriage, and 0. Fries, bostigia, N. Fries. boostgja?i is to marry, and boesen to kiss. This certainly does not 1 That the oheim, like the mithme, originally belonged to a sub-group of the kin-group is supported by the Zend brdtilirya, for oheim as well as muhme. SPECIAL WORDS FOR SEX AND RELATIONSHIP 217 accord with the exogamous period of the mother-age, during which the conception of the father's sister would, on our theory, begin to be developed. It would accord, however, with basa having originally stood for a name for some of the group women l in the endogamous period. Without being able to explain the origin of the word, we may remark that the folk-feeling with regard to its weight is very different from the affection- ate atmosphere which surrounds muhme, and approaches in some respects that attached to gevatter and gevatterin. Thus baseln is to chatter, gossip in a bad sense. The basen are, in popular opinion, wrinkled, ugly, aged spinsters who sit, spin, and spread scandalous stories. Above all, it is they who raise a ' philisterhaftes Zetergeschrei,' when any one does not do what is exactly customary. Thus kaffeebase, Jdatschbasc, baserei, 'philisterbaserei are all names the reverse of complimentary to the base, and not finding their equivalents in any ideas associated with French tante or English aunt. There is certainly nothing in the word to give any weight to a patriarchal conception of the primitive Aryan family. It would seem to represent some class of women in the community, whose age and position rendered them responsible for the maintenance of social tradition and custom. 2 In A.S. false, fa&u, in O.F. fete, in L.G. vade,fede, 1 For example, elder sisters or elder female cousins, whom there is some evidence to show were first separated from sexual relations with their younger kin. In many languages, for instance, there are different words for younger and elder sisters, and the latter are treated with far greater respect. 2 Perhaps Friesian bds, Dutch baas, Norse bas, English boss, master, overseer, deserve to be considered in relation to base. 21 8 KINDRED GROUP-MARRIAGE in M. Dutch vdde were used for father's sister, aunt, and are probably obtained by the loss of an r from /afire, fetre, or fetere. At the same time, Gothic faps, master, used chiefly in compounds, as in bruthfaps, bridegroom, must be taken into con- sideration. Fedethom appears used in M.L.G. for the offspring of father's sister, as fedrieihom for that of father's brother. As to the history and develop- ment in use of these words, I can find nothing of real value. (8) Having considered aunts and uncles, we may now pass to nephews and nieces. If these had no definite and clearly conceived existence during the period of kindred group-marriage, we should expect to find, as in the case of uncles and aunts, considerable confusion in the nomenclature, which would not be explicable had the patriarchal family been the earliest type and formed the basis of the Aryan terminology for relationship. The primitive form of the root is here suggested by the Sanskrit ndpdt, descendant, son, grandchild. The signification is apparently the one who is not (no) a spouse or master (pdtis) ; perhaps, remembering the sense of the root pd, it might also be rendered the impubes. It will be seen at once that there is in this no trace of the modern nephew idea. We have exactly what we should expect in a group with two broad divisions, the young, not yet spouses, and the adults with a communal marriage. We find also Sanskrit nafsu, offspring, grandchildren, naptjam, family ; Old Per- sian napdt, grandchild ; Greek dveyjnos, cousin, nephew, SPECIAL WORDS FOR SEX AND RELATIONSHIP 219 veTroSes, descendants; Latin nepos, descendant, grand- child, nephew ; Gothic nipjis, nipjo, cousin ; A.S. nefa, grandchild, nephew ; O.H.G. nefo, glossed nepos, cog- natus, sobrinus, i.e. any collateral womb -relation, or, indeed, any blood-relative; 1 O.H.G. nift, glossed neptis and privigna, niece and stepdaughter ; M. Dutch neef, grandchild, cousin, nephew ; M.H.G. neve, relative, cousin, neveschaft, cousinship, niftelin, granddaughter, niece ; t M.L.G. neve, grandchild, nephew, or niece, nichte, nichteke, granddaughter, niece ; Old Norse nefi, offspring, grandchild, nephew, nepi, a brother, nift, a sister, and also a bride. Now all these diverse mean- ings, even to the last — brother, sister, bride — are intel- ligible on the basis that the yeVoSe? were originally the offspring of the kin-group — offspring 2 to some, nephews or nieces to others, cousins, brothers, sisters, and ulti- mately spouses among themselves. The children of the gamahhida, they will ultimately form a gamahhida among themselves. They are the impuberes, while the others are the conjuges ; they are the young and the others the old, the eltern; they are the enkeln, O.H.G. 1 In an old mediaeval vernacular Christmas church ritual, the Virgin Mary terms Joseph licber neve mein, and Joseph the Virgin liebe mueme mein. In the LambacherPassionsspicl John also addresses Maria as liebe mutter vncl mumc. 2 That the offspring is the sister's son is also evidenced by old Irish niae, son of a sister, i.e. not of a brother. As I have pointed out, the ancient gods — created in man's image — -marry like their makers, and when we have passed the stage of no known fathers, of the mother-son dual deities, we reach that of brother-sister marriage — Freyr and Freya, Niordr and his sister, Zeus and Hera, Cronos and Rhea, Jupiter and Juno, Janus and Camisa, Osiris and Isis, and many others in the mythologies of much less civilised peoples. Nor does brother-sister marriage occur in mythology only. Besides its frequency in Ancient Egypt and Modern Madagascar, we may cite its occurrence in the Celtic hero-legends, e.g. Caibre Muse and Duben, Conchobar and Dechtere, Medb, Ethne, Clothru, and their three brothers, the latter appearing to be a kin group- marriage. KINDRED GROUP-MARRIAGE enenkel, eninchil for aninchli, the little ano or ahne, which we have seen applies to their older ascendants. 1 (9) As we have already dealt with brother and sister as words containing general evidence of the primi- tive kindred group-marriage, we may now pass to the terms for son and daughter. One of the first desires of the parents of a new-born child is to ascertain its sex. Is it a boy or a girl ? This must be at once announced to the community. The nomads of Central Asia indicated the sex by placing spear or distaff at the entrance of the tent. The Greeks pub an olive wreath for a boy and wool for a girl at the door of the house. The South American Indians place a weapon for a boy and a spindle for a girl. The negroes of New Guinea a bow for the son and a stir-about stick or cooking-spoon for the daughter. The ancient Chinese marked the male birth by a bow to the left, and the female by a girdle to the right of the door. The Dutch indicate by the colour of a silk pad fastened to the knocker the sex of the new member of the community, and there is little doubt that the glove formerly seen on English doors originally indicated by its colour or position the same thing. The routine and festivities which, in all parts of the world, follow birth take their character and magnitude from the sex of the new-born child. The sex is thus seen to be of first importance, not only to the parents, but to the 1 Compare ohmchcn for niece. I doubt the objection raised by Grimm to this derivation, namely, that the enlcel is not a ' little forefather.' Clearly the niece is not a 'little uncle,' yet she is termed ohmchen. The term ano being applied to a particular group in the community, it was not a long step to term little anan, a group of the same constitution which had not yet reached maturity. SPECIAL WORDS FOR SEX AND RELATIONSHIP 221 social group of which they are members. It is the first question to be answered, and at that early stage the answer is only to be obtained by reference to the primary sexual characters. "It is a son, a seed-giver," .says the primitive midwife, or "It is a daughter, a suckler," as the case may be. In Sanskrit the root su denoted primitively pour out, wet, squeeze out juice, as in savam, water, and sunas, river. But it has, in addition, the sense of beget, procreate, whence we have sunus, the son, the begetter. The co-radicates are Gothic sunns, O.H.G. sunu, A.S. sunu, O.N. sonr, English son, German sohn, and probably Greek vios for o-vtos. Some writers have held that the su in sunus denoting procreate, the son is the procreated. Against this must be remarked the almost universal use of the word for the male offspring. Sanskrit sutd, daughter, appears to come from a past participle, and so to mean the procreated. The sunus series is, however, to be connected with a present parti- ciple sunvant, procreating. 1 The same root occurs in other words, one or two of which are sufficiently sugges- tive for our present purpose to be mentioned. Thus San- skrit sutu, pregnancy, Old Irish suth, the fetus, Greek cr£>9 (1/9 in Homer), a hog or wild boar, Latin sus, O.H.G. su, O.N. syr, Modern German sau, English sow, where there appears to be a transition first to either male or female, and then to the female only. The procreative capacity of the pig is obviously the source of the name, the animal itself from Scandinavia to Greece being a 1 That son and daughter originally stood for boy and girl simply, and not for a relationship, is in keeping with the Celtic tongues, which have no name for son and daughter as distinguished from boy and girl. KINDRED GRO UP -MA RRIA GE symbol of fertility, or a metaphor for sexual license. Another interesting word is the Greek vetv, probably for avecv, to rain, with the notion of the rain as a fertiliser. Thus Bacchus was termed 1/779, probably as a god of fertilising moisture ; while Zeu? #779 reminds us of the golden shower with which he fertilised Danae. Possibly the same idea of creating, fertilising moisture is retained in the Sanskrit somas, 1 the mysterious drink of the Vedic, gods, whom it animated to great achievements. To the same root also vyr\v, hymen, the god of love and the song of love, may probably be ultimately traced, thus carrying us back in the root su of sunu to that kin-gathering with its common meal, songs, and sexual license which has so often reappeared. As we find the idea of su, beget, leading to suna, son, so the same notion in pu leads us to pusus, putus, and puer, a boy. Sanskrit putra is a son. If Latin puer be for pater, as Grimm suggests, then again it is the procreator which is emphasised. The origin of puer would thus correspond to cfrvrcop from v, and, on our theory, to patar from pa. All signify the male begetter, but the former in potentia, the latter two in esse. The Teutonic form is buobe, bube, at first sight only the male procreated, but in Alpine bua = liebhaber ; and in the forms buhl, buhle, lover ; bid = arnica, meretrix ; Swiss bilhli = Kirmes-mistress, dance - partner on May Day ; buhlgabe = morgengabe ; buhlgesang = hileih, etc., point- ing to the procreator and the sex-festival. Turning now to daughter the cognates are : Sanskrit duhitd, Persian dokhter, Greek Ovydr^p, Gothic dauhtar, 1 Compare Sanskrit sUmas, water, milk, moisture ; Greek ipdw, to pour out, and ip&w, to love sexually, £pos, love, desire. SPECIAL WORDS FOR SEX AND RELATIONSHIP 223 O.H.G. tohtar, M.G. tochter, O.N. dottir, A.S. dohtor, etc. The Sanskrit root dug, or dull, is to milk in either the passive or active sense, as in milchen and melken. Swedish daggja, Danish daegge, Gothic daddjan, are to give suck, while English dug is the nipple of the breast. In Sanskrit dilg'd is a cow, dohas, a milking or milk, and dogd'rt, a cow or nurse. From these cow-words, with- out apparent co-radicates in the other Aryan tongues, arose the idea of the daughter as the milker of cows in the pretty theory of the happy patriarchal life of the primitive Aryans. This idea, that the terminology for daughter awaited the discovery of a peaceful occupation for her later years, has now been given up by most philo- logists (not, however, by Skeat), but it serves to mark the want of anthropological instinct in the philologists of the last generation. As the son is the begetter in jjotentia, so the daughter is the suckler, the mother of the future — a far more primitive concept than that of cow-milking. (10) I shall now pass to some remarks on the Teutonic words for relationship by marriage. Such words differ widely in most Aryan dialects, and this is sufficient to indicate their late origin. 1 Many of the Aryan words suggest a very different primitive sense to their present, and several have clearly been perverted from their old kin-group significance to suit patriarchal institutions. I must here, however, confine my attention to some peculiarly German terms, as my space is limited. German eidam, A.S. dpum, and Fries, ddum, appears connected with eid, oath. The son-in-law is the oath- 1 Clearly, if the patriarchal system had been a primitive Aryan one, the names for such relationships ought to have been co-radicate, for they must have been needed at an early date. 224 KINDRED GROUP-MARRIAGE man, not the bloodman. He is the man whose treuwa, peace, or sibbe, is not preserved by his blood-link, with its sanctions of blood-feud and blood-vengeance, but by an oath of peace which he has taken to the kin, so that he ceases to be unsibbe. For him marriage is not a right of kin, but a pact, an ehe, and he is an ehemann. This name eidam for son-in-law probably arose when exogamy was becoming the rule, but the woman re- mained within her own kin-group, a form of marriage largely illustrated by the German Marchen, and equiva- lent to the beena marriage of the old Arabians. 1 The same notion of sworn relationship is probably to be found in the Swedish svdramoder, svdrafader, svdra- dotter, etc. Here, although the ultimate root may have been the same as that of Swedish svoger and German schwager, there has been undoubtedly assimilation to svarja, swear, owing to the conception of the son-in- law as the sworn-man. It is noteworthy that eidem is used in M.H.G. for either father-in-law or son-in-law; this double use was very probably much older, and simply marks the sworn relationship of the two. From the chief Germanic root for relationship by marriage no terms whatever exist for children-in-law till we come to the late compounds schtviegersohn and schwiegertochter. These facts must be borne in mind when we come to sum up the origin of this relationship. Turning to other Aryan tongues we find considerable diversity of words, with very significant roots. Thus we 1 Grimm connects eidam with a root ci, related to ju, bind (as jug in jungere) and equivalent to Sanskrit jam. He would thus connect eidam directly with Sanskrit garni for jdmi, daughter-in-law. This leaves the dental quite unex- plained, the primitive notion in both may be bind ; but the bond in the German word is that of the oath, and in the Sanskrit that of sex. SPECIAL WORDS FOR SEX AND RELATIONSHIP 225 have Sanskrit gdmdtri, 1 Greek ya^p6<;, ed into a complexity of meanings which no philologist could unravel who had not observed the successive stages of growth. 240 KINDRED GROUP-MARRIAGE generosity , and charity, and despises from his ethereal heights what he is pleased to term the loathsome or disgusting animal instincts, may well be asked to ponder on the evolution of such emotions as love and friendship. The social virtues may in his imagination have arisen in many diverse ways, but the stern fact remains that among the Aryans they took their origin in the sexual instinct ; and he must be a rash sociologist who would affirm that this primary instinct is even now incapable of producing any new social virtue. In the course of our investigations we have come across fossils of several stages of sexual habit. These stages pass one into the other without a rigidly marked division, and the terms used in one stage remain in a later stage, often with modified, or perhaps quite changed senses. The first fundamental distinction is between groups which lay chief stress on maternal, and those which lay chief stress on paternal descent — groups which con- veniently, but not with strict accuracy, may be termed matriarchal and patriarchal. The first group, without giving an all-dominant position to woman, still placed her in authority, directly and indirectly, in religious matters — the first deity was a goddess of fertility, and her ministrant a matron -priestess. 1 The fact that woman was then the conduit by which power and property passed from one man to another, also gave her an increased importance. Hence the term matriarchal without being exact is to a certain extent significant. Perhaps it is quite as significant as patriarchal, for 1 The priestess is often identified with the goddess at the sex-festival, e.g. the Sakiies. Compare also the high-priestess at the Argive Heraea (see p. 171) with what Tacitus tells us of the worship of Nerthus, a Teutonic Earth-goddess. SPECIAL WORDS FOR SEX AND RELATIONSHIP 241 there are stages in the patriarchal evolution where the patriarch has to serve for his wife, or to pay serious respect to her rights or deities. Starting with an early stage of the matriarchal period, we find the woman as kone, surrounded by the offspring of her womb, kunni, kin, or kind. The primary and natural result is sexual relationship with those nearest in place and blood. We have at once the basis of that brother-sister marriage which looms through all ancient mythologies. Nor is this endo- gamous relation without advantages. An exogamous or monogamic relation could never lead to such a group as we find in the fratria and the clan. The kindred group - marriage provides a maximum of sexual tie between individual members, and of kindred tie between successive generations. What is within this group is the pleasant and the comfortable ; the kin are the kind, the known, the noble, the free, those outside are the unkind, the unknown, the ignoble, the unfree. Peace (sibbc, friede), joy (freade), trust, faith (trewa), charity (ca/ritas) y freedom (freiheii), generosity, the moral and the ethical (sitte), are human feelings and attributes, all of which we can trace back to their origin in the sexual relations of a group of men and women of kin — the mdcscaf, the gamahhida, the hive. More than one word shows us the lair turning into the common dwelling-place, and this into a village. The community with its fenced' abode is represented by the group of gatilinge, at once kinsfolk and co-spouses. From their intersexual re- lationship arise love, neighbourliness, and friendship,, the conception of the genial, the convivial, the fitting, VOL. 11 R 242 KINDRED GROUP-MARRIAGE and the good. The communal life which flows from o their co-sexual life leads to words of sex receiving the additional senses of tilth, of building, of construction, and ultimately of art (bau, tak). The gathering (ver- gaderung, dyopa) for clan-meal and clan-talk is the first germ of civic institutions, of mahal, gericht, and finally of parliament. The choral mating -songs, — developed sex-calls, — which followed the clan-meal, lead to chorus, hymns, comedy, and tragedy on the one hand, and to most of the still existing marriage customs and habits on the other. Music, art, social virtues, civic rights, are one and all seen to take their origin in that ultimate sex-freedom of kin, which is opposed to every moral feeling of the civilised man of to-day. Even many features of his religious belief and his religious ■ceremonies can be traced back to the old kin -group worship of the goddess of fertility. The common meal, the drinking of blood to establish a sibbe or peace -kinship, the adoration of mother and child, the baptism and the god-parents, all have their prototypes and origins in the matriarchal period of human evolu- tion. Nor is the product of that period only evidenced by Aryan words for sex and kinship, it is manifest in Aryan folklore of every kind ; it is exhibited in the earlier history of all the other branches of the great human family ; it is to be found in many phases of still existing savage life ; nay, we may note isolated features of it still extant among the less advanced Aryan races of to-day. Among the Slavs we still find village com- munities having many of the features of the communal kindred group, and practising religious ceremonies which SPECIAL WORDS FOR SEX AND RELATIONSHIP 243 some have held to be perversions of Christianity, but which are, in truth, the old Aryan worship of the god- dess of fertility and tilth, only slightly disguised by the use of Christian terms and symbols. Thus the Russian sects of the Christs and of the Sko2^tsy hold periodical meetings at which prayer is followed by the dancing and singing of men and women ; the choral dance is itself succeeded by unrestrained license of the ' brothers ' and ' sisters.' These meet- ings are often accompanied by the worship of the Holy Virgin, who is represented by a young woman. It is, in fact, the old heathen priestess representing the god- dess of fertility. 1 She is sung to and danced round as Mother Earth, adored as the emblem of generative force, and the children she may bear to the men of the com- munity are, as ' little Christs ' and ' little Maries,' especially sacred. Among the sect of Christs the common meal is represented by the priestess distri- buting raisins, among the Skoptsy by an actual com- munion of her blood.- It is clear that only in name is there anything Christian in these gatherings ; they are a survival of the old Aryan vergaderung, and cor- respond to the Semite festival of the Sakaes both in license and in cruelty. The same sex -festivals, here seen from their religious side, may still be traced in the fairs and periodic festivals of the Slavonic peas- antry. In the Government of Nijnii - Novgorod we find the youths and maidens meet at periodical in- tervals upon a hill. After choral dances, the youths 1 See footnote, p. 240. 2 See N. Tsakni, La Lussie Scctaire, Paris, 1888, for these and other details of sex-festivals in Russia. 244 KINDRED GROUP-MARRIAGE carry oft" the maidens and pass the night with them ; this conduct is so customary also in the Archangel district that a girl who finds no such temporary lovers would be reproached by her parents. In the Government of Stavropol this hilltop vergaderung repeats itself at every wedding ; the young men and maidens, after the customary wedding dance, pass the night in pairs, engaged folk together, and the other young people in temporary couples. A similar habit prevailed among the peasantry in large districts of Germany almost up to the end of the Middle Ages. 1 Thus we see that the Aryan sex-festival, with its common meal, its dance and song, which is so strikingly evidenced in our study of the words for kinship and sex, is no philological cobweb. It is fossilised in practices which we meet everywhere in folklore, and trace in many existing peasant customs. We are not dealing with local perversions of the sexual instinct ; our study of the Aryan words for kinship shows that they are fossils of what was once a widespread phase of primitive civilisation. The sexual and the social institutions of that phase of human development may be wholly repellent to the morality of to-day ; we may shudder at blood relation- ship as the permit and not the ban to sexual intimacy. But we must also remember that if exogamy promotes a wider range of variation for natural selection to act upon, endogamy may originally have established a sufficient degree of correlation between human char- acters to give mankind stability and the advantages of race. Above all, those human affections, those civic 1 See Appendix I. : On the Mailehn and Kiltgany. SPECIAL WORDS FOR SEX AND RELATIONSHIP 245 institutions and social virtues, which we now prize so highly as the most social features of our own civilisation, were undoubtedly the product — albeit in a primitive and crude form — of a period of kindred group-marriage, a period in which the animal instincts appear to us to have been all-dominant. Shall we despair because we find all that man values as unselfish, pure, and noble — his love, his friendship, and his charity — have their origin in what some are pleased to term base and loathsome animal passions ? On the contrary, if we survey the past, and see what mankind, solely under the pressure of animal passions, has achieved blindly amid blood and struggle and un- regarded pain, may we not confidently hope that the strong social instincts which have been evolved from, but which now dominate the more selfish and animal side of man's nature may carry him forward more quickly and more smoothly to still more complex stages of de- velopment ? Out of the low came the high, out of the high may well come the exalted. Only those who dream that morality sprung fully developed from the brain of a deity can dread to learn its lowly animal origin, or fear to acknowledge that our current morality, social and sexual, may be as crude and repellent to the future as that of the matriarchal civilisation in its kindred group- stage now appears to us. XII THE GERMAN PASSION-PLAY: A STUDY IN THE EVOLUTION OF WESTERN CHRISTIANITY 1 For my part I never feel my liberal faith more firmly rooted in me than when I ponder over the miracles of the ancient creed. — Renan. I. — Introductory While a study of primitive human customs forces us irresistibly to the conclusion that the social characteristics, which men value most highly to-day, have been evolved in the course of long ages from very animal instincts, so a study of early religious beliefs shows us the source of the most highly developed religious sentiments in strangely barbarous habits and superstitions. If the first study demonstrates for us that morality is not the creation of moralists and teachers, but that the moral feelings have been evolved in that struggle of group with group which gave the victory to the more stable society with the more intense gre- garious instincts, so the second study leads us from human sacrifice, cannibalism, and nature propitiation 1 Extracted from notes for a course of lectures on mediaeval German litera- ture delivered in 1883, and therefore containing but few references to more recent publications on the religious drama. INTRO D UCTOR Y 247 through more and more social stages of religious feeling to the Eucharist and the doctrine of the Atonement. In neither case do we touch the absolute ; the current religion and the current morality are not what the philosophers and theologians of the time describe them in their treatises ; they are entirely relative to the habits and instincts of the great masses of the people. Nay, even the ' absolute ' morality and the refined religious doctrines of the thinkers of one age are seen by the critical minds of a later generation to be but idealised forms of the folk - religion and folk - morality of the same period. The relativity to the age and to its special aspirations is still to be found if it be glossed with greater verbal subtleties, and if the popular trimming of creed to current economic and social needs be less grossly obvious. To the unprejudiced student of com- parative religion, the Christianity of Jesus is as widely removed from that of Tertullian or of Augustine as these are removed from the Christianity of the Middle Ages. Such a dispassionate inquirer will find almost more unity of ideas, dogmatic and artistic, between mediaeval folk-Christianity and modern Burmese Bud- dhism than between the former and the popular mani- festations of Christianity to-day. The great lessons of comparative religion have, hitherto, been principally based on a study of oriental religions, and their com- parison with Christian doctrines. But one of the chief of these lessons, the relativity of all religious belief to the social and artistic conditions under which the belief flourishes, can easily be learnt within the history of Christianity itself. From our earliest childhood the 248 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y gospels have rendered us familiar with the Christianity of Jesus ; the experience of everyday life shows us the active elements in the Christianity of to-day. A study of the mediaeval passion-plays will, perhaps, most easily, and with the least danger of wide misconception, bring before us an intermediate link in the chain of evolution. Thus the potent truth of the relativity of religious feeling may be recognised within the bounds of those impressions and beliefs which have been an essential factor in the development of our own western civilisa- tion. Nor is it from the standpoint of comparative religion only that a study of the passion-plays may prove to be of interest. The want of a deep sympathy with the past — that past which in its struggles, by its very failures as well by its successes, has achieved what we value most highly in literature and art — can never be fully compensated for by a knowledge, however com- plete, of modern thought and current literature. Our civilisation is the product of the past ; its traditions and customs are the growth of the past ; and without a sympathetic study of the past we cannot realise the richness of our own civilisation, nor appreciate its cap- abilities. One phase of our past growth is too often neglected, especially by the narrower school of Protest- ants. It is often assumed that the Middle Ages were Dark Ages, that Roman Catholicism was merely a super- stition, hampering the forward movement of humanity ; that Mediaevalism has no intellectual value for an en- lightened nineteenth century. Yet Medievalism has, perhaps, even a higher claim than Hellenism to be IN TROD UC TOR V 249 considered as an essential factor of modern culture. The Gothic cathedral is more a part of our western nature — nay, is in itself a greater artistic ideal — than the Greek Parthenon ; for depth of intellect, St. Thomas Aquinas may be fairly spoken of in the same breath as Plato, and nothing in Greek literature exceeds in tender- ness and beauty the mediaeval devotional books, or in vigour and inspiring ring the Latin hymns of the Church. Those who do not understand and appreciate these things are to be pitied, even as those who have never walked the streets of Athens with Socrates, nor listened to the parables of the Bodisat " long ago when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares." There should be no misunderstanding, however, as to what we mean by the mediaeval factor in modern cul- ture. The wise do not mimic the outward life of the Greeks. It is childish to strive for the reintroduction of mediaeval forms into modern life. We cannot profitably bring back into this age of ours the religious guilds, the passion-plays, the great religious festivals ; it is mere trifling to play nowadays at monks and priests. There are other calls to action, other opportunities of self- renunciation, other ideals for which to battle, the beauty of which is none the less real, if it be too often dis- regarded. The task of the mediaeval student is not to reinstitute, but to justify ; to prove to the Present that the Past did not for a thousand years toil in vain. The most enthusiastic Hellenist by no means strives to recon- struct nineteenth-century life on a Greek model ; he is content if Hellenic thought permeates our intellectual habit, if Hellenic art is part of our plastic conception ; THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y shortly, he desires that Hellenism shall be a factor of our culture. The true medisevalist can wish for no more, but he claims as much. It is no resurrection of the dead, no reversal of the theological current of the Keformation that he strives for. He believes that as the mind of man ponders more deeply and more often over " the miracles of the ancient creed," the broader will become his intellectual horizon ; he will realise more com- pletely the social origin of all creeds, their economic and moral genesis, and with this recognition of the relativity of religious belief the firmer will be the basis of his own liberal faith. The intellectual progress of the microcosm of the individual mind can lay no claim to completeness, if it has not passed in review the same phases as have been successively reached by the macrocosm — the mind of humanity at large mirrored in its intellectual history. M. Renan has said that it is heartrending to have to admit that the charlatan who has never studied the past can yet attain to " the Alpine heights of philosophy." But the strength of his hold, the permanency of his foot- ing, may well be doubted if he has not had the experience which arises in the course of a laborious journey over the lower summits of past thought. The Protestant, who lauds the Reformation and abuses mediaeval Catholicism without having once opened a fifteenth-century devotional book ; the Freethinker, who condemns Christianity with- out having read a line of St. Augustine, or studied, even at second hand, the thoughts of the great Doctors ; the modern Socialist, who has never considered the mediaeval guild and town government, — these may, one or all, have reached the Alpine heights of philosophy, but what I NT ROD L/C TORY 251 is their foothold worth if they have neglected all the experience gained by their ancestors in a thousand years of toil ? This mass of human labour — civic, religious, scholastic, literary, artistic — is not and cannot be worth- less in the light of modern thought. It is the duty of the medievalist to justify the past to the present, to convert what has been rejected as institution and as dogma into a fruitful factor of the culture of to-day. If the chief task at present before the student of western civilisation is to obtain a fuller recognition of its earlier struggles, and a fuller appreciation of its earlier achievements, a slight study of one phase of mediaeval thought — the passion-play — may be of service, although the writer sets himself no very wide and ambitious aim. He has merely sought to interest the reader in mediaeval ways of expression and mediaeval modes of thought ; to excite in him a desire to study further. This is not a history of the religious drama in Germany, it is an attempt to portray one phase in the mediaeval folk-conception of Christ ; and it must be read in the spirit that recognises in the current religious conceptions of the great bulk of the people the actual religion of the day. It is this religion, and no other, which is an active social force, helping to mould the spiritual and economic life of its devotees. That the reader may pass on, whenever he lists, into fresh fields and onto the little-trodden byways of mediaeval religious literature, considerable space has been given to footnote references. These references, however, have no claim whatever to completeness, every student will recognise how they might have been in- creased a hundredfold. Like the scanty remarks on the 2 5 2 THE GERM A N PA SSION-PLA Y English and French plays, they are inserted for illustra- tration ; they are a few among the many sources from which a conception of mediaeval Catholicism can he drawn, even to its smaller dramatic details. But beyond the intellectual value of the mediaeval factor to modern culture, has not the study of the life of the Middle Ages a practical value for to-day ? Is there not much directly bearing on our great machine age which can be learnt from the old religious socialism ? For our capitalistic society may not it be suggestive to study a civilisation in which labour had not been reduced to a market commodity, nor the craftsman to a tool ? The self-assertion of the individual was in those days checked by a strong religious sense ; the awe of an active ecclesiastical system prevented the anti-social from complete domination over the weaker and more ignorant. 1 Protestant writers are apt to treat the Reformation as if its first and greatest effect was the freedom of the intellect from the tyranny of dogma. This may have been an after-effect, but that it was not the aim of the Reformers themselves their treatment of Erasmus and Servetus amply testifies. The first and greatest effect of the Reformation was the destruction, 1 In this respect the Canon Law compares favourahly with the Roman Law, the spread of which was one of the causes of the Peasant War. The extent to which the Church, even in the fifteenth century, endeavoured to hold in check the oppressors of the poor and weak is manifest in the confessional books of the period. Not only usurers and false traders were denounced, but princes and magistrates boldly reproved. It may suffice to mention, among many instances, Der Spiegel des Sunders (Augsburg, c. 1470) and Bat Licht dcr Sclc (Liibeck, 1484). Both, in small part only, are reprinted in Geffcken, Dcr Bildercatc- chismus des fiinfzehntcn Jahrhundcrts (Leipzig, 1855). In this respect Luther remained true to Catholic traditions, and a study of his sermons (e.g. Von Kauffslumdlung und Wucker, 1524) would surprise many as showing him more of a socialist than the most advanced of the moderns. INTRO D UCTOR V 253 for good or ill, of an elaborate philosophy of life. No student of comparative religion can term that philo- sophy the religion taught by Jesus in Galilee. It was the product of active and masterful, not of passive and submissive races. It was the folk -religion of Western (in particular Teutonic), not of Eastern peoples. To many, notwithstanding its grave defects, it will appear to contain social, economic, and aesthetic elements wanting in the civilisation of to-day. To the narrower Protestant the Middle Ages appeared Dark Ages ; probably he regarded them in much the same spirit as the early Christians regarded the palmy days of Greek culture. Yet the day came when Hellenism broke in upon Christianity and forced mankind to recognise it as a co-equal factor of human thought. Perhaps the day is not so distant when medievalism, rejected long ago as a religion, shall be recognised as an essential feature of © © modern culture. It only awaits an interpreter with inspiration as well as knowledge. 1 Meanwhile the object of the present writer will be more than fulfilled if his essay leads any reader to a study of mediaeval thought and expression for their own sakes. He is certain that such a study cannot be without fruit. 1 The name of William Morris will occur to most readers as a noteworthy exponent of that culture, and more so in 1896 than it was even in 18S3. : 5 4 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y List of the Principal German Medieval Keligious Plays with Key to Letter References A. Altteuische Schauspiele. Franz Joseph Mone. 1841. B. Schauspiele des Mittelalters. 2 Bde. Franz Joseph Mone. 1852. C. Alsf elder Passionsspiel. C. W. M. Gran. 1874. D. Das Oberammergauer Passionsspiel inseinerdltestenGestalt. August Hartmann. 1880. E. Heidelberger Passionsspiel. Gustav Milchsack. 1880. Biblio- thek des litterarischen Vereins in Stuttgart, Bd. 150. F. Egerer Fronleichnamsspiel. Gustav Milchsack. 1881. Biblio- thek des litterarischen Vereins in Stuttgart, Bd. 156. G. Die Oster- und Passionsspiele, I. Die lateinische Osterfeiern. Gustav Milchsack. 1880. H. Schauspiele aus dem sechzehnten Jahrhundert. Julius Tittman, 2 Bde. 1868. I. Erlauer Spiele. Sechs altdeutsche Mysterien. Karl Ferd. Kummer. 1882. J. Ludus scenicus de nativitate Domini et Ludus paschalis sive de passione Domini. Spiele einer Handschrift des XIII. Jahrhunderts aus Benedictbeuern. Carmina Burana. J. Schmeller. 1847. Bibliothek des litterarischen Vereins in Stuttgart, Bel. 16. K. Freiburger Passionsspiele des XVI. Jahrhunderts. E. Martin. Zeitschrift der Gesellschaft fur Beforderung der Geschichte, Alterthums- und Volkskunde von Freiburg, Bd. 3. S. 1. L. Christi Leiden, Marienklage, etc. Hoffmann von Fallersleben. 1837. Fundgruben fur Geschichte deutscher Sprache und Litteratur, Theil II. M. Der Silndenfall und Marienklage. Zwei niederdeutsche Schauspiele. Otto Schoneman. 1855. N. Das mittelalterliche Drama von Ende des rbmischen Kaiserthums. Gerhard v. Zeyschwitz. 1878. 0. Ludus de decern Virginibus. L. Bechstein. 1855. Wartburg Bibliothek, Bd. 1. P. Theophilus. Niederdeutsches Schauspiel. Hoffmann von Fallers- leben. Zwei Theile. 1853 & 1854. Q. Weihnacht-Spiele und Lieder aus Silddeutschland. Karl "Weinhold. 1855. THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y R. Weihnachtlied und Weihnachtspiel in Oberbayern. August Hart- maun. 1875. S. Ordnung des Frankfurter Passionsspiels. G. E. von Fichard. Frankfurtisches Archiv fiir altere deutsche Litteratur und Geschichte, Bd. 3. S. 131. 1815. T. Volksschauspiele. In Bayern und Oesterreich-Ungarn gesammelt von August Hartraann. 1880. U. Die lateinisch-bohmischen Oster-Spiele des XIV.-XV. Jahrhunderfs. J. J. Hanus\ 1863. W. Das alteste deutsche Passionsspiel, von Karl Bartsch. Germania, Bd. viii. Wien, 1863. This is a fragment from about 1300. X. Dat spil fan der Upstandinge, Gedichtet 1464. Herausgegeben von Ludwig Ettmiiller. Quedlinburg, 1851. This is another edition with prefatory matter of the first play in B. ii pp. 33-107. Y. Zuchmantler Passionsspiel, Programm des Obergymnasiums zu Troppau, ed. Anton Peter, 1868. A seventeenth-century play. Z. Das Lcumbacher Passionsspiel. Herausgegeben von Sebastian Mayer. Programm des Obergymnasiums zu Kremsmiinster, 1883. This is an operatic Marienklage, the manuscript of which dates from about 1593. I, p. v., E, pp. 1-4, and U, pp. 18-22, give copious references to other and earlier literature of the German religious plays. 256 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y II. — The Unity of the Passion-Play To form a mental picture of the universe and its history as a connected whole has been the aim of man from the earliest dawn of intellect. His problem has ever been : How am I related to the past, to the future, to the wide expanse of surrounding nature ? He has laboured in many ages, in many ways to find a unity in history, and a unity in natural phenomena. In our own day we find a light, by no means an all-penetrating daylight, yet a steady search-light, in the principle of evolution. Man's conduct no longer regarded as the axis of the universe, the source of unity in all creation, we turn to science rather than to religion to find the unity in the world-drama. In the Middle Ages Ptolemaic conceptions were still supreme ; the earth was the centre of the universe, man was the centre of the earth ; round his wants all physical nature centred, and for his purposes the universe existed. But for man then, as now, the vital question was conduct; on conduct depended the very sur- vival of social groups, and the gregarious instinct had early emphasised, with the strong religious sanctions embraced in such terms as sin and righteousness, the fundamental features of social and anti-social behaviour. Thus in the Middle Ages men sought the unity of the world and its history in the problem of man's conduct. The current religion — widely developed from the scanty formulae of original Christianity — gave an answer. The unity of the world-drama lies in the struggle of man against sin, in his fall and his redemption, in the punishment of the wicked THE UNITY OF THE PASSION-PLA Y 257 and the reward of the just. The mediaeval treatment of the world-drama had the same purport as the besl melodrama of to-day. It was not realistic, — the social triumphed and the anti-social met with retribution at last. — but it emphasised the advantages of the moral life, strengthened the influence of conscience, and so © increased the action of the o-reo-arious instinct in man. O © A more realistic treatment does not always have the same moral weight with the half-cultured. The great world-drama as a non-realistic melo- © drama with Christ as its chief character is the keynote to the fully developed passion-play. It took several centuries to complete this development ; but it is just because the passion-play developed step by step with the religious ideas of the Middle Ages, and step by step with their social and political conceptions, that its evolution is of such great interest. The history of the religious drama shows us at once the stages in the growth of medi- aeval Christianity and its changing relation to the people. The rise of mediaeval socialism is largely mirrored in the development of Easter-plays and passion-plays. The fully developed passion-play illustrated to the mediaeval man the unity of the world's history, and the unity of all life, good and bad, sublime and ridiculous. In those days religion was a very active feature of everyday life, and every life was itself a factor in the great world- drama which, beginning with the creation, ended only with the day of judgment. The huge Egerer Fvon- leichnamsspiel carries us from the fall of Lucifer to the Resurrection of Christ. Judging from German analogies, I have little hesitation in describing the Townley vol. 11 s 258 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y Mysteries as but the consecutive scenes of one con- tinuous passion-play, stretching from the creation to the day of judgment. 1 The Coventry Mysteries and the York CorpiLS Christi plays certainly covered all time from creation to doomsday. Another German play, built up by Kriiger in the sixteenth century from older material, takes us from the fall of Lucifer to the day of judg- ment. It is characteristically entitled : " A right fine and merry new ' Action ' of the beginning and end of the world, embracing therein the whole story of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ." 2 The whole of history is thus regarded as a unity working up to and onward from the birth of Christ. In his life history finds a justification for the world's existence. The modern philosophical historian may smile at a treatment which links the history of the world to one phase of civilisa- tion. Yet we must not measure the value of the mediaeval theory solely by its outward garb of fable and 1 I leave out of account the last two pieces printed under the heading of the Tovmlcy Mysteries (Surtees Society, 1836), namely, the Suscitatio Lazari and Suspcnsio Judae, hoth of which I suspect to be additions by a later hand, and intended to be introduced in their proper places. A strong argument in favour of the unity of these mysteries in a single passion-play is the appear- ance of the Te Deum only at the end of the Juditium (p. 321). It naturally concluded every complete play (see all the plays in the Mysttrcs inedits of Jubinal, the plays of Hilarius, Weinhold's Wcihnachtspielc, the Ludus de adventu Antichristi, etc.) This customary conclusion probably originated in the religious dramas having in early times been played between the third response and the Te Deum. Looked at in the light of a complete passion-play, the Townley Play for its freedom from tradition, for its flow of language, and general treatment, compares most favourably with its German rivals. Another play of some originality is the Low German Silndenfall, which, starting from the fall of Lucifer, ends (probably as a fragment) with the consecration of the infant Mary. A curious metaphysical conception of the freedom of the will, as associated with the fall of man, runs through this play ; the Creator takes a more important part in it than in the other dramas, and, to judge from his language, must have made a close study of Augustine, Peter the Lombard, and the Vulgate ! - H, Bd. ii. THE UNITY OF THE PASSION-PLA Y 259 perverted fact ; its value lies in the spiritual idea of a unity in history, of a continuous development of life even as in a drama. The student of evolution to-day is really working at the same idea, albeit with better tools and a wider knowledge of facts. The view of history taken by the passion-play writers is, of course, characteristic of all mediaeval historians. They seek a unity of the world-drama in the story of man's fall and redemption. The reader must not, however, imagine that historical knowledge remained stagnant in the "Dark Ages." There is as great an advance from the twelfth- century rhymed chronicle of the Kaisers — with its unbroken line of Roman Emperors from Julius Caesar to Rudolf von Hapsburg — to the fifteenth-century Niirn- berg Chronicle of Schedel, as there is from the latter work itself to any nineteenth-century Weltgeschichte. History did not stand still, even if all historians accepted the fundamental idea that the unity of history was to be found in the great Christian drama, the real passion- play. In this spirit Herrad von Landsberg, abbess of Hohenburg, wrote towards the end of the twelfth cen- tury her Hortus Deliciarum, a compendium of history and science for the nuns committed to her charge. Therein, by word and by picture, she carried her sisters from the creation of the world even to the perpetual damnation of the wicked, who — popes, bishops, emperors, nobles, and common folk — descend in a long line into hell. Hartmann Schedel started with the creation of the angels, and concluded with the resurrection of the dead and the final day of judgment in the valley of 260 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y Jehoshaphat. In doing this he much amplified and de- veloped the accepted standard history, the Fasciculus Temporum, which carried events only from the creation of heaven and earth to the year of its publication, 1474. Still later, in the first half of the sixteenth century, Sebastian Franck, in his History -Bible, starts his story with a philosophical discussion on the nature of God and on his method of creation, and traces it down to the coining of Antichrist and the last day. 1 What the playwright put into his drama of the passion, and the historian into his chronicle, that the artist put into his pictures and engravings. Herrad in her miniatures, Wolgemut in his woodcuts to Schedel's Chronicle, Albrecht Diirer, and many another in their passion-series carry us from the creation, or at least from Adam and Eve, to the final day of judgment. Thus in the fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries the passion-plays, the chronicles, and the engravings mutually illustrate each other. A knowledge of the chronicles makes the unity of the plays intelligible, and an acquaintance with the plays renders clear much that at first is obscure in painting and woodcut ; the latter in their turn throw much light on the scenic arrangement and on the mode of acting the plays themselves. Whence did the artists draw the symbolism, nay, the very in- cidents and groupings of their passion pictures ? There i Kaiser chronik, herausgegeben von H. F. Massmann, 1849 ; Fasciculus Temporum, Coin, 1474 ; Buch der Croniken, Niirnberg, 1493 ; Sebastian Franck, Chronica, Zcytbuch, und Geschychtbibcl, Strasburg, 1531. The unique MS. of Herrad von Landsberg's Hortus Dcliciarum was burnt in the last siege of Strasburg. Reproductions of such miniatures as had been copied are now- being published by the Elsass Society of Antiquaries. Cf. also Herrad von Landsberg und ihr Werk, Hortus Dcliciarum, von C. M. Engelhardt, 1818, and Herrad dc Landsberg, par Charles Schmidt, 1896. THE UNITY OF THE PASSION-PLAY 261 can be little doubt that it was from the religious plays of their native towns. The importance of these plays for Christian iconography has already been noted by Didron : — The representation of miracles and mysteries served to put in action the persons painted on glass windows, sculptured on the capitals, and encrusted in the vaultings of cathedrals. . . . Words and gestures interpreted what outline and colouring had expressed, and the intention which actuated both was the same ; in short, the graphic and dramatic arts became a book to those who could read no other. It is in this light that they must be regarded ; in this character we must seek a clue to the interpretation of the figures — true hieroglyphics of the Middle Ages — which Christian Archae- ology, although at present only in its infancy, already begins to decipher and comprehend {Christian Iconography, p. 6). Schroer has shown how, in the Oberufer Spiel — still performed in 1853 — the traditional scenic group- ings were actual copies of old woodcuts. 1 Such works as Diirer's Grosse Passion, or Holbein the Elder's passion picture at Augsburg (No. 87), are invaluable to the student of the mediaeval religious play, while "Wolge- mut's woodcuts in the Schatzbehalter of 1491 — especially in the old coloured copies — provide the best graphic conception possible of a mediaeval passion-play. It is worth while illustrating this correspondence between the mediaeval artist and playwright in one or two typical cases. The student of the pictures and woodcuts of the Middle Ages must often have noticed in representations of the agony in the garden of Geth- semane an angel bearing a cross or cup. It occurs, for example, in famous pictures by Holbein the Elder and 1 Deutsche Weihnaclitspiclc aus Ungarn, 1858 : see also R. p. 24. 262 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y Wolgemut at Munich (Pinakothek, Nos. 5 and 22), and in Cut 10 of Albrecht Diirer's Kleine Passion, and Cut 4 of his Grosse Passio?i. This piece of symbolism seems unnecessary for a great artist ; he could represent some- thing of the agony by facial expression. On the other hand, on the great outdoor stages with craftsmen for actors little could be trusted to facial expression and gesture. Hence symbolism is in its right place there, and its use in the passion-play probably long continued to influence the artist. Thus we find it a common stage direction of passion-plays that " Here an angel shall appear with a cross (or a cup, as the case may be) " ; * and the direction was actually carried out in the Brixlegg play of 1882. Another frequent subject for the artist is that of the soldiers brutally playing with the blindfolded Christ. A good example will be found in Diirer's Kleine Passion (Cut 14). This game of puczpirn, as a symbolic emphasis of the torture, is a favourite incident of the passion-plays. 2 One of the earliest references to it occurs in The Legends of the Holy Rood, published by the Early English Text Society (pp. 178, 179). The cloth beforn thyn eyn too To bobbyn the they knyt it soo. In the Coventry Mysteries (Halliwell, p. 296) the stage-directions bid the Jews " castyn a cloth ovyr his face." In the Toivnley Mysteries a ' vaylle ' is 1 See Lukas Cranach's Passion, Cut 1, and his Wittemberger Hciligtlvums- buck, k, iii. These representations, with those of Holbein, Wolgemut, and Diirer, should be compared with F, p. 157 ; B, Bd. ii. p. 263 ; and R, p. 23, etc. 2 See F, pp. 168, 176 ; E, p. 181 ; C, p. 114 ; B, Bd. ii. p. 275 ; and com- pare the Old English Miscellany, E.E.T.S. p. 45. THE UNITY OF THE PASSION-PLA V 263 brought and bound over Christ's eyes, and then we read : — 1st Tortor. Who smote the last? 2nd Tortor. Was it I ? 3rd Tortor. He wote not I traw. Even in the recent Brixlegg play a game at Blindesel was introduced. Lastly, we may notice the symbolic method of mark- ing the agony endured in the crowning with thorns. The crown being put on Christ's brow, is then pressed down by means of two or three long stakes placed across the head, upon the ends of which several ruffians throw their weight, or push with all their power. The oldest representation of this torture I have met with occurs on a fourteenth-century wood panel from Landshut in the National Museum at Munich (Saal III. 96). There is another early one (c. 1400) in a typical Leben Jesu from Meister Wilhelm's school at Cologne (No. 96 ; see also No. 53). Then we have the sketch by the Elder Holbein for the picture of the Paul's Basilica in the Augsburg Gallery. A picture by the Elder Cranach at Munich (Pi?iakothek, No. 749) deals with the same idea, among several other scenes almost unequalled from the passion-play standpoint. In woodcuts we have the stakes' incident given with brutal force in the Schatz- behalter (Fig. 72), in Diirer's Kleinc Passion (Cut 18), in Lukas Cranach's Passion (Cut 7), and his Passion Christi und Antichristi (Cut 3), not to cite innumer- able other instances. In such representations, we see the very grouping and action which occurred in the Brixlegg passion-play, and in most mediaeval plays 264 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y also. 1 But even in less legendary scenes from the passion, such as the scourging, the nailing to the cross, the burial, the descent into hell, and the resurrec- tion," — we find the same close relation between the graphic and dramatic representations. Indeed, in my experience, the very best guide to a great German mediaeval cathedral or museum is the text of a fully developed passion-play, like the Egerer Fronleich- namsspiel. Having indicated the sympathy between playwright and artist, we may turn to another point in which they combine to illustrate the mediaeval spirit. We have already noted that to the mediaeval mind all history was a unity, a continuous drama, the chief movements in which were the Fall of Man and the Atonement. Thus every event which preceded the birth of Christ was held to have some more or less direct bearing on the incidents which follow that centre-point of the world- drama. In this spirit every occurrence in the Old Testa- ment was treated as ' prefiguring ' some incident in Christ's life, or as foreshadowing some future event in 1 See E, p. 220 ; F, pp. 201, 202 ; and B, ii. p. 300, etc. 2 The illustrations of the resurrection are of peculiar interest, as in their earlier form they throw much light on the church ritual of the Visitatio Sepulchri. Compare the numerous examples in Hefner Alteneck's Trachtcn dcs Mittelaltcrs. Or, to take out of a sister art one of many instances, we may mention the ten sculptures on the tympanum of the western door in the tower of Higham Ferrers Church. Especially interesting is in this case the visit of the three Maries to the sepulchre — a coffin on an Early English trefoil arcade, beneath which are the four watchers ; an angel is seated to the left. The very priestly aspect of the three Maries — not unnatural in the case of the church ritual — has lead to an amusing error in Parker's Architectural Notices of the Archdeaconry of Northampton, 1849, where there is a woodcut of this sculpture entitled 'Disciples at the Tomb.' The Higham Ferrers representation really gives as good a notion of the Easter Visitatio Sepulchri as the miniature repro- duced by Mone, B, i. p. 8. THE UNITY OE THE PASSION-PLA Y 265 the history of the world. ] The conception of evolution being absent, a mystic relationship was conceived as holding between the past and the future. Thus, if the Queen of Sheba visits Solomon, this is a ' prefiguration ' of the three kings at the cradle of the infant Jesus. Jacob's flight and David's flight are but prototypes of the flight into Egypt. Judas' betrayal is prefigured 1 >y the sale of Joseph, the mocking of Christ by that of Elijah, the crucifixion by the brazen serpent, the three days in the sepulchre by Jonah's incarceration in the belly of the whale, the passage of the wicked into hell by the burning of Sodom, and the last judgment by Daniel's condemnation of the elders who bore false witness against Susanna.* 2 In the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries such prefigurations were largely used in the instruction of the common people ; a knowledge of them solves many a mystery in the arrangement of the painted windows of our churches. They were the subject of many manuscript miniatures, possibly in- tended as guides for cloister artists in glass and stone. Still later they were in the early days of wood-engrav- ing grouped together and published as block -books. Manuscripts and block - books of prefigurations have received the somewhat misleading name of Bihlia Pau- perum. They would be better described by Sebastian 1 In the Schatzbehalter, to the cuts of which we have already referred, will be found a considerable number of Old Testament ' prefigurations ' very typical of the passion-play interpretations. 2 One of the most curious prefigurations of the religious plays is that of the Sii/ndenfall (M, p. 68), where Melchisedek, after interpreting the burning bush as a symbol of the Light that shall come into the world, then proceeds to cele- brate mass, the consecration of the yet unborn Light ! Compare the Chester Plays, p. 60. 266 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y Franck's term Geschychibibel ; they illustrate the medi- aeval notion of unity in history. Nor is the prefigura- tion of the passion-plays entirely confined to Old Testa- ment scenes and characters. Besides the prophets, the Church Fathers appear largely. Thus Augustine is a sort of 'precursor' in the Frankfurt play (S, p. 137). Then we pass to the Sibyls, who occur as frequently in dramatic as in plastic and pictorial art x ; and last, but not least, we may mention Virgil, not the familiar Roman of our schooldays, but rather his mysterious mediaeval shadow, the Virgil of Dante, not uncoloured by the legends of his sorcery. These and others — to us a strangely incongruous group, but to our mediaeval ancestors linked by the great spiritual thread of all history — figured on the passion-play stage. 2 All the plays, however, are not equally prolific in prefigurations. In some we have only a few incidents from the Old Testament, which many pious Christians to-day would consider to have a fairly direct bearing on the life of Christ. In others we have merely one or two sentences repeated by the leading prophets. Yet in a third group, however, we have a very much more com- plete sketch of the Old Testament story. Of this group the Eg ever Spiel may be taken as a sample. In that play the 1 One of the most complete series of Sibyls occurs on folios x a , et seq. of the Horc beatissime v'ginis Marie ad vcrum Sarisburicnsis ritum, printed by Prevost in Paris, 1527. Their symbols and prophecies are given. There is a second set of Sibyl cuts scattered through the same Salisbury Hours. The reader may consult an Appendix by Marsh to Husenbeth's Emblems of Saints for further information as to the Sibyls. 2 Virgil is probably introduced on account of the contents of Bucolics, Eclogue iv. The reader should consult Simrock's Volksbiicher, xiii. p. 443 ; Gbrres' Volksbiicher, p. 238, and of the religious plays in our list — J, p. 81 ; K, p. 23 : M, p. 92 ; B, i. p. 305 ; and Q, pp. 73, 74. THE UNITY OF THE PASSION-PLA V 267 following .string of incidents and of characters precedes the birth of the Virgin and the usual New Testament scenes : — (i.) The Creation of the Universe, (ii.) the Fall of the Kebellious Angels, (iii.) the Creation of Adam and Eve, (iv.) the Fall of Mankind, (v.) the Murder of Abel by Cain and of Cain by Lamech,' (vi.) the Flood, (vii.) the Sacrifice of Isaac, (viii.) the Golden Calf, (ix.) David and Goliath, (x.) Solomon's Judgment, and (xi.) the Prophets. The events which these scenes foreshadow are not directly stated, but an audience well acquainted with the usual prefigurations would at once realise their bearing on the incidents of the Passion. Still a fourth group makes preriguration the very framework of the play. The Heidelberg passion-play might be described as an acted Biblia Pauperv/m. Here prefigurations do not precede but are interspersed with the incidents of the Passion. Of the thirty -six New Testa- ment scenes, the twelve most important — from that of the woman of Samaria to the entombment — have each their characteristic preriguration. Thus the woman of Samaria and Christ at the well is foreshadowed by Eliezer and Rebekah at the well — an incident acted at considerable length — and the Last Supper by the feast of Ahasuerus. The intimate relation between the pictorial and dramatic arts is again brought out by the correspondence between the prefigurations of this play and those of the Wolfen- biittel Biblia Pauperum (see Laib und Schwarz, Bibha Pauperum nack d&m Original zu Constanz, Synopsis, p. 9). 1 On the mediaeval legend of Cain as a part of ' history ' see Fasciculus Tern- porum, Coin, 1480, folio 2 a and 2 b ; Buck der Chronikm, folio ix b and x a ; and Franck's Geschychtbibcl, folio ix a . 268 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y The prefigurations, however, are not solely of interest as illustrating the mediaeval notion of history. Much of the Old Testament and even secular matter thus introduced into the passion-play, developed in detail, broke off from the parent stem, and obtained an inde- pendent existence in more wieldy plays, many of which reached the greatest popularity. Thus, for example, in the sixteenth century we find innumerable authors, in- cluding a duke, a schoolmaster, and a cobbler, 1 treating as playwrights the story of Susanna. Of course it is not possible to consider all independent dramas dealing with scenes which occur in the great passion-plays, as originally offshoots. The passion-plays do not appear in their complete development till about the fifteenth century, and I shall presently trace their growth from small and fragmentary ritual plays. Many of the smaller religious dramas are of much earlier date,' 2 and have had an inde- pendent and parallel development, not improbably origin- ating in the dramatic performances of cloister scholars. Nevertheless a great variety of small dramas of the late fifteenth and sixteenth centuries may be safely looked upon as developed offshoots of the passion-plays, and a good deal in the history, even of the secular drama, thus becomes intelligible. The chief dramatic model set before the playwright of those days was the great passion-play, 1 Heinrich Julius, Herzog von Braunschweig, Paul Rebhun, Schulineister ■/A\ Zwickan, and Hans Sachs, Schuster zu Nurnberg. 2 For example, in the first half of the eleventh century we hear of certain monks who "neque in refectorio comederent, exceptis rarissimis festis, maxime in ( piibus Herodem representarent Christi persecutorem, parvulorum interfectorem, seu ludis aliis aut spectaculis quasi theatralibus exhibendis comportaretur sym- bolum ad faciendum convivium in refectorio aliis pene omnibus temporibus vacuo," Gerloh von Reichersberg. THE SPIRIT OF THE PASSION-PLA Y 269 and in this symbolism took the place of gesture and of character in the modern sense ; nor was the unity one of place, time, or person, but of the thread by which the historical world-drama itself was supposed to be linked too-ether. The reader who bears this in mind will the better comprehend the crudeness and apparent helpless- ness of the earliest attempts at the secular drama in Germany — its authors had to learn how to replace symbolism by acting, and how to build up a new concep- tion of dramatic unity. 1 It was the English actors and English playwrights who chiefly helped them in this matter. III. — On the Spirit of the Passion- PI ays The reader who comes without a preliminary study of the mediaeval spirit to the perusal of a fifteenth-century passion-play will probably be struck in the first place by the incongruous juxtaposition of religion and humour. He may feel inclined to assert that the people who could bring the sublime and the ridiculous into such close con- tact, who could joke even with the most sacred personages of their faith, must have had no deep religious feeling. Such a reader ruiedit even be inclined to aoree with certain Protestant authors who have asserted that the mediaeval treatment of sacred topics, as evidenced in the passion-plays, shows how little hold their religion had upon the people in the fifteenth century. Yet such an opinion is not only a misapprehension of the mediaeval 1 The relation of the passion-plays to the Fastaacl(tspicle cannot be discussed here, hut the chief defects of the latter are closely connected with essential features, rather than defects of the former. 27 o THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA V spirit, it is also a superficial view of human nature. In real life the ridiculous is close to the sublime, and the naive spirit of the Middle Ages realised this, much as Shakespeare realised it. There is something incongruous to the modern mind in the manner in which Shakespeare expresses this great truth by the introduction of fool interludes, yet we do not hold him incapable of appre- ciating the higher phases of human feeling. It is from the same standpoint that we must judge the passion-play, nay, much of mediaeval art and literature, if we would really understand the naive mixture of the earnest and the grotesque which, indeed, characterises all popular expression, but especially that of the Middle Ages. It marks no want of reverence, it is no sign of loss of faith. It is a childlike, semi-conscious recognition of a great truth, the form of which often becomes traditional, and in the mediaeval spirit received, as everything else, a symbolic expression. Two of the most popular and most effective books of the fifteenth century illustrate this principle, the one from the religious and the other from the moral standpoint. No more earnest books exist than the Art of Dying and The Ship of Fools, yet, both verbally and pictorially, they bring the most weird humour into juxta- position with the deepest moral and religious teaching of their day. 1 Without that mingling they never would have won the position they did among the people, and those who would write for the moral or religious profit of the masses to-day would do well to bear this fact in mind. The Christianity of Jesus was not polytheistic, nor festive, 1 Even more characteristic, perhaps, of this combination of the solemn and the grotesque are the Dances of Death, already referred to in Essay I. THE SPIRIT OF THE PASSION-PLA Y 271 nor humorous. Yet polytheism, festival, and humour had to be brought into it, before it was fully acclimatised among the Teutonic races, before it could become the folk- religion of the Middle Ages. Little by little the ecclesias- tics gave way, and Christianity was moulded to the needs of the robuster Western nations. The Christianity of the Middle Ages was not that of Christ, still less that of Paul ; it was these plus Teutonic heathenism, plus an in- definite amount of mediaeval folk-humour and folk-feeling. It is in this spirit that we must endeavour to interpret the grotesque inside and outside the churches, the weird humour, sometimes verging on the indecent, of occasional miniatures in monkish manuscripts, and, above all, the combination of sacred and jocular in the passion- plays. There was a widespread reverence for the papal hierarchy in the Middle Ages, yet a pope or two in hell a and an imp of a devil teasing a cardinal are traditional in mediaeval art. There was a true religious earnestness in the folk of the fifteenth century, but, like the Greeks, they could laugh at their gods ; the belief in the Devil had a very real influence over conduct in the Middle Ages, but a inediseval audience thoroughly appreciated his humorous side on the stage. As in other matters, the spirit of the passion-play here mirrors the general spirit of its day, and I may illustrate it from the drama, leaving the reader to find its analogies in other forms of literature and in pictorial art. 1 I once showed a popular preacher some fifteenth-century representations of the day of judgment, with all types of ecclesiastics descending into hell. A few Sundays later he preached on evidences of the Protestant spirit before the Reformation, and cited these pictures as an example of the popular feeling to- wards the Catholic hierarchy! This was a marked case of the need of the mediaeval factor in culture. 2 7 2 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA V While the comic element became an all -important factor in the greater passion-plays, as well as in the shorter religious plays, and invaded even the scenic representation of the most sacred portion of the Passion, there still remained a simplicity and earnestness about the action and words of the central figure which could not fail to impress both sturdy burgher and rougher peasant. Next to the figure of Christ, that of the Virgin appeals most strongly to our religious feeling and dramatic sense. There is scarcely a single greater passion-play in which the beauty of the Marienklage — the grief of the Virgin at the Cross and tomb of her son — does not fill the reader with a deep sympathy, and render him conscious of a truly poetic, nay dramatic, feeling struggling with a primitive mode of expression and often a pitiable versification. There is something almost of the Greek tragic spirit in the Marienklage, and this relation to the Greek is not so accidental as might be supposed. The earliest Marienklage which I have come across actually exists in a fourth-century Greek passion-play, Xpiarbs iraa^wv} This remarkable production appears to have been hardly sufficiently studied in relation to the mediaeval religious drama. 1 Printed as an appendix by Wagner and Diibner in Fragmenta Ev/ripidis, Paris, 1846. The opening lamentations of the deoroKos on hearing of the Crucifixion may perhaps interest the reader : — 'Ico flOl, Id). cu at, t'l dpaao) ; Kapdia yap oi'xercu. 7TWS 7TWS 5' £ti £cD Kal Tavra k\v€iv ; idetv 8i ravra tos wot' otcrw iravTkafxwv ; It , & yvvalKes, ttjs Ya\i\alas T€Kva, irpoaeiiraT avrbv, Kal it powe /n\f are xdovos. Si 8evTe (plXai, devre, Xiiruj/j.€v 5eos. The reader should also notice 11. 370 et seq. See footnote p. 384. I HE SPIRIT OF THE PASSION-PLA Y 273 To the mediaeval student it is peculiarly striking owing to its free treatment of the gospel narrative, its absence of additional traditional incident, and to the strong influence of the classical models which it exhibits. The loss the passion-play suffers when the Marienklage is omitted is well illustrated by Kriiger's play, who in his narrow theological prejudice considered it necessary to entirely cut out the character of the Virgin. He shows us at once his ignorance of what forms the chief emotional factor in the drama, and demonstrates how impossible the passion-play becomes when it is adapted to theological controversies. 1 It must not, however, be supposed that true poetic spirit is confined in the greater passion-plays to the lamentations of the Virgin, and that much even of the tone of these is due to a Greek source. This is far from being the case. As a striking instance of the contrary, we may cite Lucifer's appeal to the elements in the Egerer Spiel, and his offer to perform the most terrible penance if he can but obtain forgiveness. Here, for an instant, we have an approach to a higher dramatic concep- tion, that of a glorious, large-hearted rebel Satan. The refusal of mercy to this heartrending appeal of Lucifer's contrasts curiously with the assertion in a thirteenth- century poem, A Moral Ode {Old English Miscellany, E.E.T.S., 1. 214), that the Devil himself might have had mercy had he sought for it. The same intellectual difficulty as to w T hy the Devil could not do penance and 1 See H, Bd. ii. Kriiger introduces instead of the Virgin, a monk Franciscus, and a Lutheran Christophorus, who holds ' das recht evangelium. ' It is, per- haps, needless to add that he consigns these to their fitting places, hell and heaven, on the day of judgment. VOL. II T 274 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y receive pardon like Adam crops up again in the See- brucker Hirtenspiel (R, p. 134), and is peculiarly suggestive of the nature of the mediaeval conception of penance. As a third example, which may be compared with the Marienklage and Lucifer's appeal, we may refer the reader to the extremely fine lamentation of the Foolish Virgins, written in the metre of the Nibelungen- lied, with which the Lucius cle decern Virginibus concludes (0, pp. 30, 31). 1 Yet although powerful, almost dramatic, passages are not wanting in the greater passion-plays of the fifteenth century, it is still true that their general tone exhibits a naive folk-spirit, expressed in a strong but crude folk-language. Only occasionally can we trace instances of the ecclesiastical spirit and the old church language, reminiscences of a time when the people had made neither the plays, nor the Christian religion, their own, but both were still in the first place associated with Church ritual. In the lesser plays, especially in local plays from out-of-the-way districts, where the peasants were actors, and where there was no authority with the will or the strength to repress extravagance, we find the comic element predominant. This is peculiarly the case in the short Easter and Christmas plays which, even as early as the fifteenth century, had lost all pretence of religious earnestness, and were related to the greater passion-plays much as a Gaiety burlesque 1 According to the tradition it was a representation of this play which led the Landgraf of Thiiringen so to despair of the mercy of God that he fell down in a fit of apoplexy, from the results of which he died. The tradition at any rate is of value as illustrating how deeply the religious plays could move the mediaeval mind. THE SPIRIT OF THE PASSION-PLA Y 275 to the corresponding Lyceum drama. Thus in a short Lucius in cunabilis Christi the characters are Joseph "who leads Mary seated upon an ass," the midwife "carrying cradle, pap-bowl, and spoon," and a shepherd " leading two big dogs." Joseph, after pointing out the child to the shepherd as the one announced by the angels, invites him to drink from his flask ; this is passed on to the Virgin and then to the midwife, who tl links a drop of wine would make the child sleep. She then rocks the cradle and sings Magnum nomen Domini. The flask again being passed round, the shepherd remarks that it must be cold for the child ; Joseph agrees, and — exeunt omnes ! l This play is by no means unique (compare the shepherds in the Chester Plays, p. 119 J ); indeed, a perhaps still more ourlesque example of an Infancy Play has been published by Weinhold (Q, p. 106) from oral tradition. In this case Joseph is represented as rocking the cradle and sin^ino- : — Kindla wiega, Kindla wiega ! ich koan nich menne Finger biega Hunni sausi, der Kitsche tliut der Bauch will ! Kitsche is Katzenjammer, and there is perhaps something of naive folk-realism rather than of burlesque 111 the baby Jesus troubled by the wind. 1 See I, No. i., and compare Bin WcihnacMsspiel av.s einer Hs. dcs XV. Jahrhunderts, edited by K. W. Piderit, 1S69. Flogel's Geschichte dcs Grc Komischen, 1861, p. 246, may also be consulted. It must be noted, however, that the rocking of the Christ cradle actually occurred as a part of the Christmas church ritual, and a fossil of it remained in a Protestant church in Tubingen even as late as 1830. See E. Meier, Sittcn v.. Gebrauchc aus Sclucabcn, p. 464. 276 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y Ohstetrices occur also in the Freising play, Herodes sive magorum adoratio (Q, p. 60), and indeed in innumerable mediaeval representations of the births of Christ and the Virgin. 1 The predominance of the grotesque (even allowing for what is only grotesque to modern minds) is characteristic of Christmas plays. 2 But the same tendency, as we have already indicated, is to be found to a greater or less degree in most of the religious plays. 3 Thus, in the Ludus de decern Vir- ginibus? we find the strange stage direction Dominica 'persona habet magnum convivium, while in the Siln- denfall 5 Solomon, at a feast to the prophets, treats them to the much-praised Eimbecker beer. We shall have occasion in the sequel to notice like instances from the greater passion-plays themselves. With these instances before him, the reader may find it still more difficult to associate the extravagances of the shorter, and the comic incidents in the longer plays with the existence of a really religious spirit among the people. I can only reiterate that if he fails to grasp this association, he will fail to understand the folk of the Middle Ages, and in particular the state of feeling in the fifteenth century. The century which preceded the Reformation was distinguished from its immediate prede- cessor and successor by its essentially religious character. 6 If we look at the outer formal side of religion, it was 1 The origin of the midwife is to be sought in the Protevemgelion, ch. xiv. The somewhat unsavoury incident with the midwife Salome is reproduced with amplifications in the Coventry Mysteries, pp. 149 et seq. 2 Q, pp. 97, 104, 111. 3 Townley Mysteries, Surtees Society, 1866, pp. 84, 98 ; Jubinal, Mysteres intcHts, Paris, 1837, ii. pp. 71-77. 4 0, p. 22. 5 M, p. 76, 6 More religious, but of course far less theological. THE SPIRIT OF THE PASSION-PLA V 277 peculiarly the age of church -building, 1 of religious sculpture, painting, and engraving, and of the fully developed passion-plays. If we turn to the inner spiritual side of religion it was an age of great ver- nacular preachers and of delicate spiritual teachers. To say it was the century of Thomas von Kempen conveys a great deal more than is at first apparent. The deep pietism of the author of the Imitatio Christi is not indi- vidual ; it is characteristic of most of the devotional literature of his period. The Seelenwiirzgartlein, the Hirnmelstrasse, the Hertzmaner, and the Guldin Spigel des Sunders, are only types of a widespread and deep religious pietism, which appealed in the vulgar tongue directly to the heart, and erected no ecclesiastical barrier between the soul and its God.' 2 Symbolism in ritual and in religious art, the grotesque in passion - play and engraving, by no means denote that the more spiritual side of religion was dead in the fifteenth century. If we wish to understand the mediaeval spirit, and the Keformation as well, we must continually bear this in mind. An appreciation of the passion - plays will help us immensely in this very respect. In them we do not see the folk looking to the priest for its religion ; the words and incidents of the Bible are brought home to the folk, while it 3 For a list, by no means complete, see J. Janssen, Geschichte des deutschen Volkes, Bd. i. p. 142. 2 See Vincenz Hasak, Der christi iche Glaube des deutschen Volkes beim Schlussc des Mittelalters, 1868, and the appendices to Geffcken, Der Bildercatcch i '.- mi funfzcJnitcn Jahrhunderts, 1855. Much useful insight into the religious life of the period may be obtained from Geiler von Kaisersberg's sermons (an abridged edition has recently been published by P. de Lorenzi) and the confessional books, e.g. Miinzenberger, Das Thnwkfwrter und Magdeburger Beichtbiichleim, Mainz, 1881. For cloister sermons, see Jostes' edition of Johann Veghe's sermons, etc. etc. 278 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLAY dramatically represents and at the same time moulds its religion for itself. 1 Were we to leave out of account the great mass of vernacular devotional literature, and to put on one side the eighteen editions of the German Bible which pre- ceded Luther's, we should still find the passion-plays impressing the events, the teaching, and largely the very words of the gospel story, with all the vividness of the stage upon the minds of the people. Every town, almost every village had its yearly or bi-y early play ; and then for one, two, or even three days, 2 the people would make holiday, and, with due allowance for meals 3 and sleep, spend their whole time on the market- place watching the great drama, which for them was the story of the world, slowly unroll itself, a drama which in those days was rich in interest and deeply significant in meaning for each one of them. They might see one of their fellow-citizens personify God the Father, 4 they might laugh at the repeated discomfiture 1 The historic myths so widely held, namely, that before the Reformation (a) the Bible was unknown to the people, (b) there were no church hymns in the vernacular, (c) there were no sermons or devotional books in the vulgar tongue, have been completely destroyed by scholarly research. See, besides the works referred to in the previous footnote, Maitland, The Bark Ages, pp. 188 et seq. ; Karl Meister, Bas deutsche Kirchenlied ; The Academy, No. 699, p. 199 ; No. 701, p. 240 ; No. 704, p. 293 ; No. 744, p. 84 ; and No. 1193, p. 238 ; and The Athenccum, No. 2925, p. 630 ; No. 2930, p. 809 ; and No. 2953, p. 694. 2 The Frankfurt passion-play lasted four days in 1498, besides a day of feast- ing for the actors and a day later with a iDrocession in costume. In 1409 the great play of the London clerks at the Skinners' Well (Clerkenwell) lasted eight days. The Chester Mysteries took three days. 3 At the passion-play resuscitated by the Brixlegg peasants in the early eighties the audience sat at tables placed in the open village street, each table being presided over by a peasant woman, who worked vigorously with soup-ladle and carving-knife. 4 At the play referred to in the previous note it was God the Father who came onto the stage with, and claimed an owner for, an umbrella found after the morning performance ; nor did the element of the grotesque in this incident at all strike the peasant majority in the audience. THE GROWTH OF THE PASSION-PLAY 279 of the Devil, and smile at the mode in which Judas' soul was carried off to Hell ; yet none the less God, Devil, and Hell were intensely real to them, and became rather more so than less when the earnestness of their religion was softened by touches of humour in its stage representation. The realism of life itself ever brings the ridiculous into closest contact with the sublime. IV. — TJie Growth of the Passion-Play Although much research is still needful to complete our knowledge of the successive stages in the growth of the passion-play, we are nevertheless able to appreciate fairly accurately the influence of the three chief factors in the development of the German religious drama. These factors were the following : (a) a love of festival and symbolic representation dating from heathen days and peculiarly national in character. This factor fostered the demand for dramatic ritual rather than moulded the character of its growth ; (b) the Church ritual ; and (c) the influence of the cloister-schools and scholars. The last two factors were both international in their char- acter, and account for the cosmopolitan elements in the plays. While the second factor was ecclesiastical and, on the whole, conservative, the third was progressive and democratic. It was the influence of the strolling scholars which replaced Latin by the vernacular, and ultimately handed over the religious drama to the people to mould according to the folk-conceptions of Christianity and of life in general. One of the most striking features of a popular fifteenth- 280 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLAY century passion-play is the retention amid the vernacular of certain Latin responses, hymns, and stage-directions taken almost verbatim from the Easter or Christmas ritual of the Church. A further investigation shows us that the earliest religious plays, if plays they can be called, were amplifications of a few sentences accom- panied by descriptive action which had been introduced between the last response and the Te Deum into the Christmas or Easter services. We have the words and directions for such dramatic ritual passing im- perceptibly into ritualistic drama in eleventh-century manuscripts from both France and Germany. Herein are undoubtedly to be found the first germs of the great religious plays. We have yet, however, to find a reason for the introduction of such dramatic ritual into the Church service. The ultimate cause is not far to seek. The drama itself — tragedy and comedy — developed, as I have shown elsewhere, 1 out of the choral and sexual dances in honour of a goddess of fertility. The drama is thus essentially of religious origin. Now although Germanic heathenism had not developed out of its religious festivals at the introduction of Christianity anything like the Greek drama, it still possessed a wide range of choral and symbolic representations, the whole of which the folk endeavoured to associate with their new religion, and this for the simple reason that they were still in the stage of civilisation when religion and semi-dramatic representation are closely allied. It stands beyond question that the first notion of the Germans as to the new churches was that they were convenient meeting- 1 See Essay XL p. 136 and footnote. THE GROWTH OF THE PASSIONPLA Y 281 places for dance, festival, and dramatic representation. From this standpoint Jakob Grimm has accounted for the existence of the religious drama by supposing that the primitive heathen delight of the German folk in semi-dramatic festival forced its way into the churches, and that the old sacrificial gatherings, the May festivals, the summer and winter myth plays, etc., must be looked to as the real orioin of the German drama. 1 It will be O well to consider the evidence in favour of this view at some length, for it lets in a flood of light upon the relation between primitive Teutonic Christianity and the folk among whom it was afterwards to develop. That the old heathen religion was an essentially dramatic one can scarcely be doubted ; we have proof enough not only in written statements, but in a vast number of dramatic folk -customs of heathen origin. 2 We find many cases in which heathen customs were introduced into Christian churches. The German warriors did not hesitate to sing in their new gathering-places ancient war-songs in honour of their new hero Christ, choruses of girls and youths chanted love-glees in the same sacred places, 3 while later both monks and nuns indulged in dances and masquerades directly connected 1 Kleinerc Sehriften, Bd. v. p. 281. 2 See Deutsche Mythologie, 4th ed. pp. 35, 52, 214, 637, etc., and Wackernagel. Gcschichte der dcutschen Literatur, § 22. 3 See Wackernagel, loc. cit., and compare with Miillenhoff und Scherer, Dcnkmalcr dcutscher Poesie und Prosa, 2nd ed. p. 363. The custom of dancing in the churches survived in some places till the second half of the sixteenth and, perhaps, into the seventeenth centuries : see Hartmann, Wcihnacht-Licdu. Spiel, pp. 44, 45. In a play published by Marriott in his Collection of English Mysteries and dealing with the Massacre of the Innocents, we actually find in the poet's epilogue an appeal to the minstrels to use their diligence and " A fore ourdepertyng geve us a daunce " (p. 219). Possibly the reference to the virgins in the prologue (p. 200), who are to "shewe sume sport and plesure, " has some bearing on this. 282 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y with heathen festivals. The capitularies continually returned to these practices, and most stringently forbid them. "It is not permissible for choruses of laymen and girls to sing songs and prepare banquets in the church," runs a statute of 803 ; while another of the same century forbids any presbyter to take part in or allow in his presence unseemly clapping, laughing, or foolish stories at funerals, or singing, or shameful games with the bear or with female gymnasts, or the wearing of masks of demons, for " all this is devilish." Other records of a similar date speak of the monks mumming as wolves, foxes, or bears and of other "diabolical" masquerades, which were clearly remnants of the old heathen festivals. Even in the fifteenth century the Church had not freed itself from these strange per- formances. The 'feast of fools' had become an established institution. A fool-bishop having been chosen with many absurd ceremonies, monks and priests conducted him to the cathedral. With faces smeared with ochre or hidden by hideous masks, clad as women, as beasts, or as jugglers, these clerical mummers proceeded singing and dancing to the very altar-steps. The fool-bishop read the service and gave his benediction, while his bacchanalian following threw dice and ate sausages on the altar itself. The burning of dung and old bits of shoe-leather took the place of incense, and the utmost license and disorder prevailed both inside and outside the sacred building. 1 It is clear that the very clergy 1 See Mone, B, ii. p. 367, and Flogel, Geschichte des Grotesk-Komischcn, pp. 225, 460. Among the Statute/, Sinodalia in diocesi Havelbergcnsis, printed at the end of the Breviarius Havelbcrgensis, 1511, we find a " Statutum Tiderici in quo prohibetur ludibria lavarum et alias abusiones in ecclesiis fieri sub pena THE GROWTH OF THE PASSION-PLAY 283 themselves long joined in heathen scenic festivals which had survived the introduction of Christianity. Thus in Bohemia in the middle of the fourteenth century they still took part in the heathen ritual of the Expulsion of Death, accompanying the figure of Death cum rithmis et ludis supersticiosis to the river, where it was drowned. 1 But although customs of the kind described, surviv- ing through many centuries, demonstrate the strength of the folk-passion for religious spectacles, and show how it forced its way into the churches, neither Grimm nor any of his successors have been able to point to a single passage in the earliest of the mediaeval religious plays which might be used to support the theory that they have any formal or verbal relation to the old heathen scenic festivals. It is this absence of direct relationship which has led Milchsack, one of the most thorough students of the mediaeval drama, to reject entirely Grimm's theory. 2 There is, however, a method of recon- ciling the views of Grimm and Milchsack which has excommunicationis." See lii b and compare with m. vi b . The date of the statute is 1374. According to Martene, Dc antiquis Ecclesiac Jlitibus, Liber iv. cap. 13. § 11, the feasts of fools arose from the service being performed by children on Innocents' Day. This seems hardly warranted by what we find in the order issued by the Council of Basel in its twenty-first session, and printed by Martene himself. It runs as follows : — Turpern etiam ilium abusum in quibusdam frequentatum Ecclesiis, quo certis armi celebritatibus, nonnulli cum mitra, baculo, ac vestibus pontificalibus, more episcoporum benedicunt, alii ut Reges ac Duces induti, quod festum fatuorum vel Iunocentium, seu puerorum in quibusdam regionibus nuncupatur ; alii larvales ac theatrales jocos, alii choreas et tripudia marium et mulierum facientes, homines ad spectacula et cachiunationes movent, alii comessatioues et convivia ibidem praeparaut, haec Sancta Synodus detestans, statuit et jubet (lot: cit.) The whole statute is of interest as showing the prevalence of heathen customs — the hikih (p. 132) — within the churches. 1 See Loserth, Hus mid JViclif, p. 35, footnote 2. 2 Milchsack, Ostcr- und Passionsspiclc, p. 10, to be compared, however, with Deutsche Mytholoyie, 4th ed. p. 657, etc. 284 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y much to be said for it. The absence of all direct connection between the scenic rituals of the old and new religions does not demonstrate that the one was not the effective cause of the other. May not the early Christian missionaries, recognising the hold which religious festival and scenic display had upon the minds of the Germanic peoples, have found it impossible to push their own faith without dramatising its ritual ? They found it impossible to repress the love of spectacular festival ; nay, they found it forcibly invading their own places of religious gathering. Accordingly they endeavoured to attack heathenism by adopting attractions similar in spirit to its own. Thus the scenic ritual, and ultimately the religious plays, indirectly owe their origin to the very heathen ceremonies which their introduction was designed to repress. 1 Nor was the end proposed in the least achieved. A new formal expression can be given to the spirit of the people, but the essential features of that spirit will remain quite unchanged. We see this truth over and over again manifesting itself in the struggle between western heathenism and eastern Christianity. The Kirchweih was designed as a solemn Christian feast to replace old heathen festivals. And what happened to it ? The folk seized it as its own, made it the centre for all types of old folk-practices, till the modern Kirmes is one of the most fruitful sources of our knowledge of old heathen religious and social customs. Again the early Christian missionary could not root out the old district goddesses ; he endeavoured to replace 1 The view here expressed is not, I think, identical with that of Gustav Freytag in his Be initiis scenicae pocsis apud Germanos, 1838. THE GROWTH OF THE PASSION-PLA Y 285 them by virgin saints of chaste and holy life. Again what happened? The folk at once found a field foi' its old polytheistic tendencies, local goddesses reappeared as Christian saints, but with them came back many of the old folk-festivals, and much of the old sexual cult. 1 As in these cases, so it was with the dramatic ritual. It was intended as a solemn scenic effect to counteract heathen habits ; but the folk flocked into the churches, took possession of the ritual, and added to it the dancing, the feasting, and the humour which characterise the passion-play. Thus in three typical cases we see the folk moulding oriental Christianity to its own spirit, and making a foreign religion something peculiar and relative to itself. Nor is the view here expressed simply that of a critic writing many centuries later with but an obscure record of what actually took place in the early days of Germanic Christianity. A writer of much insight, nearer by seven centuries to that folk-struggle for religious festival and dramatic ritual, held much the same opinion. There is an apparently neglected passage in Herrad von Landsberg's great work, the Hortus Deliciarum, which runs thus : — The old Fathers of the Church, in order to strengthen the belief of the faithful and to attract the unbeliever by this manner of religious service, rightly instituted at the feast of the Epiphany or the Octave religious performances of such a kind as the star guiding the Magi to the new-born Christ, the cruelty of Herod, the dispatch of the soldiers, the lying-in of the Blessed Virgin, the angel warning 1 In other essays of this volume some references will be found to the Kirmes and the local goddess as Christian saint (see pp. 19, 25), but I hope on another occasion to deal more fully with these topics. 286 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLAY the Magi not to return to Herod, and other events of the birth of Christ. But what nowadays happens in many churches 1 Not a customary ritual, not an act of reverence, hut one of irreligion and extravagance conducted with all the license of youth. The priests having changed their clothes go forth as a troop of warriors ; there is no distinction between priest and warrior to be marked. At an unfitting gathering of priests and laymen the church is desecrated by feasting and drinking, buffoonery, unbecoming jokes, play, the clang of weapons, the presence of shameless wenches, the vanities of the world, and all sorts of disorder. Rarely does such a gathering break up without quarrelling. 1 This passage from Herrad's Hortus is a peculiarly instructive one ; it not only shows us what in the twelfth century was supposed to be the reason for the dramatic ritual, — its aim was to attract unbelievers — but it proves that even at that early date the plays, though still acted in the churches, had advanced beyond the customary ritual, and had attained to a considerable fulness in dramatic details. What appears of still greater interest, however, is the evidence, which Herrad's words afford, that the heathen festivities, which in still earlier days had been associated with the churches and caused grave scandal to the higher ecclesiastics, were in the twelfth century again manifest in connection with the religious dramas acted inside the churches. The views of the abbess of Hohenburg are fully confirmed by a contemporary monk, Gerloh von Reichersberg, (1095-1169), who was head of the chapter-school in Augsburg, magister scholarum et doctor juvenum. He writes with the greatest disapproval of the plays of Kinp- Herod. 2 Thus we see that the first factor in the o 1 Engelhardt, he. tit. p. 104. 2 Cited in Hartmann, Oberammergatier Passionssjriel, p. 98. THE GROWTH OF THE PASSION-PLAY 287 growth of the passion-plays — the heathen love of spec- tacular display and of religious festival — had already forced the hands of the ecclesiastical authorities in the twelfth century, and at that date the religious drama had advanced far beyond the Church's dramatic ritual. In order to study the influence of the second factor, the Church ritual, on the growth of the religious drama it will be necessary to consider the nature of that ritual at some length. It will be noticed that Herrad refers especially to dramatic ritual connected with the hirth of Christ, while it is ritual connected with the passion and resurrection of which we find most evidence. The first is to be looked upon as the prototype of the Herod or Magi plays, while the latter leads up to plays dealing with the crucifixion and death of Christ. The one series of rituals is associated with Christmas, the other with Easter ; both alike contribute elements to the developed passion-play. At the very first consideration, however, a difference manifests itself between the Easter and Christmas scenic rituals. The earliest Easter scenic ritual occurs in a manuscript of the eleventh century, and that of the fifteenth century remains practically identical with it. But by the eleventh century we find in existence entire or fragmentary plays of the Wise and Foolish Virgins, of the Birth of Christ, of the Kesurrec- tion and the Disciples at Emmaus, and of Herod and the Magi. For example, Weinhold gives two Herod-plays of the ninth to the eleventh century, 1 and Gervinus even mentions one of the fifth century. 2 Mone supposes the 1 Q, pp. 55 et seq. 2 Geschichte der deutschen Dichtung, 5th ed. Bd. ii. p. 563, footnote. 288 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y religious plays to have sprung directly from the Church ritual, 1 but if this be so, the ritual must have had an earlier origin than we have any manuscript warrant for. Due weight must of course be given to the fact that the ritual actually remained practically constant in form for four centuries, and therefore this ceremonial conservatism may easily have existed for a long period before the eleventh century. If this be the case, the Easter ritual, as we know it, is only a survival of a primitive stage in the life of the religious play ; it has continued to exist side by side with its more highly developed offspring. Against this view it may be remarked that there is no sufficient evidence to show that all the eleventh-century plays originally formed parts of the Church ritual. Very possibly they may have been performed by monks and cloister scholars. Latin plays with biblical and other themes — perhaps even those of Terence 2 — appear to have been acted in the cloisters before the religious play in the Church had attained any considerable degree of development. Yet the independent cloister - play 3 can scarcely have been the source of the fully developed passion-play ; for if it were, how shall we account for the responses and hymns of the Church scenic ritual 1 A, pp. 13, 14. In B, vol. i. pp. 6, 7, 55, Mone holds the origin of the Easter-plays to have been the responses of the Church service, and of the passion-plays the recitation of the gospel. 2 Hroswitha's anti-Terentian plays certainly suggest this, and Magnin's opinion that they were intended for acting does not seem to me so absurd as to some German critics. It is a curious and important fact that the earliest Herod- plays show traces of classical knowledge on the part of their writers, e.g. pass- ages are interpolated from Virgil, Sallust, Claudian, etc. See Du Meril, Origvnes latincs du theatre modcrnc, p. 164, and R, p. 9. 3 As a typical play belonging to a class independent of Church ritual and evidently of scholastic origin we may note Der Siindenfall, although it is of course of much later date, namely, about 1450. THE GROWTH OF THE PASSION-PLAY 289 which arc to be found in so many of the passion-plays? The Church and the cloister have evidently worked con- temporaneously ; and we can hardly doubt that the latter was progressive, and exercised much influence in expand- ing the conservative ritual of the former. But the exact manner of the action and reaction between the tw r o ap- pears at least for the earlier stages of the religious drama to be still very obscure. To the influence of the strolling scholars who wandered from cloister-school to cloister- school, introducing at a later stage of development new and cosmopolitan elements, I shall return below. The four portions of the Church scenic ritual which chiefly concern us are — (i.) the Officium Stellae at the Epiphany or, as it is sometimes termed, the Offici"w trium Regum; (ii.) the A doratio Cruris or Sepultura Domini on Good Friday; (iii.) the Elevatio Cruris or Elevatio Corporis Christi on Easter Eve, or early in the morning of Easter Day ; and (iv. ) the Resurrectio or Yisitatio Sepulchri during the Easter Day morning service. In addition to these there appears to have been a scenic ritual connected with Christmas, which was prob- ably closely related to the birth -plays and Christmas hymns. A feature of this ritual would undoubtedly have been the sino-ino- at the cradle of the Christ-child. A cradle such as the nuns in the fourteenth century used to rock the Christ-child in is exhibited in the National Museum at Munich (Saal III.), and this rocking ceremony in the churches has survived almost to the present day. 1 1 See Q, p. 49 ; R, p. 24 ; and T, p. 585. The cradle, and Joseph's by-play with it, are special features of the Christmas dramas even as early as the fifteenth century; see Piderit, Ein JVeihnachtsspicl aiis cincr Rs. des XV. Jahrhund< 1869. VOL. II IT 290 THE GERMAN PASS10N-PLA Y Some account of the Christmas Day ritual is given by Martene (De antiquis Ecclesiae Ritibus, Liber iv. cap. 12, §§ 9 et seq.) In most churches the lessons were distributed among several readers, so that the recital might be given a dramatic character. The verses of the Erythraean Sibyl were also read (see Martene, Lib. iv. cap. 12. § 13), to which practice we doubtless owe the Sibyl's appearance in the passion - plays. At Rouen, Nantes, Tours, Laon, etc., there was a ritual similar in character to the office of the Three Kings, which I shall consider later ; it was, however, less fully developed. At Rouen a manger was erected behind the altar and the image : of the Virgin placed upon it. A boy in the choir, representing an angel, announced the birth of Christ. The shepherds then entered the choir, and going to the manger greeted the Virgin and Child. Their progress was accompanied by the hymn Pax in terris. Mass was next celebrated at the altar, and after it the priest said to the shepherds : Quern vidistis pastores ? to which they replied, Natwm vidimus. There were only slight variations in the ritual at other French churches. At some, choristers with crooks took the part of the shepherds, but they do not appear to have said more than Natum vidimus, or Infantem vidimus. It seems singular that no form of this ritual for English or German churches should have been preserved, but I have not been able to find one. 1 Here, as in other like rituals, the most sacred persons were not at hrst represented by the clergy themselves, but by symbols or images. Exception must possibly be made in the case of a Besancon Advent ritual in which a well- dressed maiden replied to the deacon, who represented the archangel Gabriel (Martene, Lib. iv. cap. 10. § 30). According to Martene, this ritual dates from the early thirteenth century, and is the first case known to me of a woman .taking part in the ritual. THE GROWTH OF THE PASSION-PLA V 291 It does not, however, appear that a really comprehensive search has hitherto been made. I pass now to the rituals more closely connected with the passion-plays. (i.) The Officium Stellae. — The earliest version of this ritual that I have come across is published by Martene (De antiquis Ecclesiae Ritibus, Liber iv. cap. 14. $ '.)) and is entitled Officium trium Regum secundum usum Ecclesiae Rotomagensis. Martene merely tells us that he has taken it from " an ancient manuscript " at Kouen, which leaves us in some doubt as to its actual date. It is clearly a ritual so fully developed that it may fairly be termed a religious play, and its comparison with the Orleans l and Freising 2 Magi-plays will impress the reader with the amount the religious drama really owes to the Church ritual. The frequency of the ritual is demonstrated by another form from Limoges, given by Martene (§ 12). As the student who has never read through one of these scenic rituals can have little appreciation of their spirit, nor have grasped the extent to which the drama had invaded the Church, I venture to print the Rouen ritual at length, merely requesting the reader who has no interest in mediaeval Latin to pass it by with measured protest. 3 Die Epiphaniae, tertia cantata, tres de majori sede, cappis et coronis ornati, et debent esse scripti in tabula, ex tribus partibus ante altare conveniant, cum suis famulis portantibus Eegum oblationes, indutis tunicis et amictis, et debent essede secunda sede scripti in tabula ad placitum scriptoris. Ex tribus Regibus medius ab Oriente veniens, stellam cum baculo ostendens dicat alte : Stella fulgore nimio rutilat. Secundus Rex a dextra parte veniens respondeat : 1 Wright's Early Mysteries, p. 23. - Q, pp. 56 et seq. 3 A translation would fail to give much of the character of the original. 292 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y (June Begem regain natam demonstrat. Tertius Rex a sinistra parte veniens dicat : Qicem venturam olim prophetiae signaverant. Tunc Magi ante altare congregati sese osculentur, et simul cantent : Eamus ergo, et inquiramus eum, offerentes ei munera, Aurum, Thus et Mirrham. Quo finito, cantor incipiat responsorium : Magi veniunt. Et moveat processio. Sequatur aliud responsium, si necesse fuerit : Interrogated Magos. Processione in navi Ecclesiae constituta stationem faciant. Dum autem processio navem Ecclesiae intrare coeperit, corona ante altare crucis pendens ad modum stellae accendatur, et Magi stellam ostendentes ad imaginem S. Mariae super altare crucis prius positam cantantes pergant : Ecce stella in Oriente praevisa, iterum praecedit nos lucida. Haec, inquarn, stella natum demonstrat, de quo Balaam cecinerat dicens : Orietur stella ex Jacob, et exurget homo de Israel, et confringet omnes duces alienigenarum, et erit omnis terra possessio ejus. Hoc finito, duo de majori sede cum dalmaticis ex utraque parte altaris stantes suaviter respondeant : Qui sunt hi, qui stella duce nos adeuntes inaudita ferunt? Magi respondeant: Nos sumus quos cernitis, Begis Thar sis et Arabum et Sabbae, dona ferentes Christo Begi, nato Domino, quern stella deducente adorare venimus. Tunc duo dalmaticati aperientes cortinam dicant : Ecce puer adest, quern quaeritis, jam proper ate adorare, quia ipse est redemptio mundi. Tunc procidentes Reges ad terram simul salutent puerum ita dicentes ; Salve princeps saeculorum. Tunc unus a suo famulo aurum accipiat, et dicat : Suscipe Bex aurum. Et offerat Secunclus Rex, ita dicat et offerat : Tolle thus tu vere Deus. Tertius dicat et offerat mirrham signum sepulturae. Interim fiant oblationes a clero et populo, et dividatur oblatio praedictis duobus canonicis. Tunc Magis orantibus et quasi somno sopitis, quidam puer alba indutus et amicta super caput, quasi angelus in pulpito illis dicat banc antiphonam : Impleta sunt omnia quae prophetice dicta sunt. Ite ob viam remeantes aliam ne delator es tanti Begis puniendi eritis. Hoc finito, Reges secedant per alam Ecclesiae ante fontes, et intrent chorum per ostium sinistrum, et processio intret chorum, sicut consuetum est in Dominicis, cantore incipiente hoc responsorium : Tria sunt munera. V. Salutis, si necesse fuerit. Ad missam tres Reges regant chorum, qui Kyrie fons bonitatis, Alleluja, Sanctus, et Agnus cantent. Such a ceremony as this is Church ritual, if we lay emphasis on the canons and choir as actors, and the THE GROWTH OF THE PASSION-PLA Y 293 Church responses and hymns which occur. On the other hand it is drama, if we note that the actors are clothed to suit their characters, that there are stage- accessories, the star, the gifts, and the cortina? and that gesture and motion are indicated. Indeed, the Church becomes a stage, and the altars, nave, aisle, and choir are all used in a manner very suggestive for the later passion-play arrangements. Lastly, some evidence of the antiquity of the ritual may be drawn from the fact that the divine personages are still only represented by symbols, the cross and the image, as in the early Easter scenic rituals. I will now turn to what is known of these rituals, treating them, however, with less detail. (ii.) The Adoratio Crucis. — The Easter ritual centres round the so-called 'sepulchre.' In most churches there was a permanent sepulchre placed alongside the altar, or in its immediate neighbourhood, and especially designed for the Easter ceremony. 2 In other cases, the sepulchre would be temporarily erected for the rite. Thus occasionally it would consist of a hollow pile of books upon the altar, wherein the sacrament could be placed ; at other times, as in the miniature reproduced by Mone, 3 or, as in the case of Tyll Ulenspiegers prank, 4 it would be capable of containing one or more persons who acted as angels. The sepulchre having been prepared after nones on 1 It is not clear whether the cortina is a hollow vessel representing the cradle, or the curtain hanging heside the altar. 2 As to the position and nature of the sepulchre see Parker, Glossary of Architecture, 5th ed. vol. i. p. 420. The sextons in English village churches will still frequently point out the sepulchre as ' some of the old choir-stalls.' 3 B, vol. i. p. 8. * Die drcizchent Historic of the Volkbvch, see below. 294 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y Good Friday, the rood taken from its usual place, or a veiled crucifix, was carried by the officiating clergy with bare feet towards the altar. Here followed the Adoratio Crucis, with prayer, response, and hymn, notably the grand — Crux fidelis inter omnes Arbor una nobilis, etc. 1 The rood was gradually unveiled and elevated ; then the priest, having washed his hands and brought the host, consecrated on the previous day, to the altar, sings portions of the mass. After this the rood, the Corpus CJiristi, and the chalice, one or all, were deposited in the sepulchre — a ritual symbolic of the entombment. The priest intoned the verse : In peace his place is made, and the choir gave the response : And in Sion his habitation. So ended the first portion of the Easter ritual. 2 In a rubric to one of its versions we are told that, if the host could not be left under safe custody in the sepulchre for three days, the priest should remove it to his cell after vespers were concluded. Generally, in the larger churches, watchers were appointed to sing- psalms and take charge of the sepulchre until Easter Eve or Easter Morn. It will be seen at once that this ritual gives scope for a considerable amount of dramatic action. As in the Officium Stellae, the deity is as yet only represented by symbols ; but, as in that case, 1 Mone, Lateinischc Hymnen des Mittclalters, Ko. 101. 2 For the general description here, as in the other two Easter rituals, I have followed as a comprehensive version the Ordo Augustensis of 1487 (see G, p. 126, and compare with other versions in the Appendix). So far as the scenic ritual of the resurrection is concerned, this version is identical with those of the eleventh century. It has the advantage, however, of throwing light on the Passion- as well as the Easter-plays. THE GROWTH OF THE PASSION-PLA Y 295 so in this, several of the responses recur in the passion -play entombment scenes. 1 The widespread character of this ritual, and some interesting variations in type, will be found illustrated in the references given below. 2 (iii.) The Elevatio Crucis. — The elevation of the cross, or the resurrection of the Corpus Christi, took place between Easter Eve and Easter Day matins, some- times in the night. In one version, all the church doors being closed and the populace excluded, the 1 For example, the Sepulto Domino of the ritual (G, p. 122) will be found in the Alsfelder Spiel (C, p. 214), the Egerer Spiel (F, p. 275), and others. 2 I have been able from various printed sources to considerably extend the collection published by Dr. Milchsack. In the first place, I may note a Directorium Missae for the diocese of Mainz, published without date or printer's name about 1490. On folio a. viii. will be found, in the De officio in die parasceves, an Adoratio Crucis, with the usual responses and hymns (Ecce lignum crucis and Cruxfidelis . We read : — Deinde sacerdos officium celebraturus casula indutus accedat ad locum ubi corpus Christi histerna die reservatum fuit. The host being brought to the altar, the Directory continues : — Sed sacerdos exuat casulum qua indutus erat accepto corpore Christi in mundis- sima theta recondituin she imagimim crucis procedentibus candelis et processionecmu pulsu in tabula lignea cantando submissa voce: Ecce quonwdo moritur Justus, usque ad locum sepulchri. Et in eodem loco corpus Christi sive imago sanctae crucis quasi sepeliendo devote ponatur et thurificetur cum incenso et aspergatur aqua benedicta. Et ponantur candelae et lumina apud sepulcrum quae die noctuque usque ad elevationem crucis iu nocte pascali ardebunt. Et in recessu de sepulcro cantetur sub sileucio re- sponsorium ; Sepulto Domino, quibus omnibus finitis, exuat se et recedat. CI In aliquil ins ecclesiis legetur psalterium die et nocte apud sepulcrum usque ad elevationem crucis in nocte pasce. The Directorium thus contains evidence of the existence of the Elevatio Crucis ritual, although it gives no directions for this, nor for a Visitatio. Durandus {Rationale divinorum Offieioru/m, Liber vi. cap. 77. §§ 19 et seq.) gives some account of the Adoration, but none of the Sepulture. Additional information and various rituals will be found in Martene, De antiquis Ecclesiac Ritibus, Liber iv. cap. 23. § 14 Adoratio Crucis, and § 27 De Officio Sepulturac, with the texts at the end of the chapter. From English sources a good deal may be extracted. In the earliest portion of the Leofric Missal (Warren, A.) there is no ritual for the ceremony, but the Good Friday service ends : Adorata cruet, communicent omnes, which shows its existence. In the eleventh-century Canterbury Missal (Corpus College, Cam- bridge) there is a rubric Adorata sancta cru.ee et reposita in loco solito (Warren, p. 96 footnote), which shows that the adoration, but not the deposit of the cross in 296 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y officiating priest, " witli a few assistants and two candles," raised the host and rood from the sepulchre, where it had been deposited on Good Friday, and carried it to the altar, amid resounding psalms and cries of Kyrieleyson! After the host and rood had been thurified with incense, the appointed prayers read, and the responses recited, a procession was formed, and the objects of adoration were carried to the main door of the church. The officiating priest struck this door with his foot and sang : Lift up your heads, ye gates, and be ye lifted up ye everlasting doors ! The choir continued : And the King of Glory shall come in ! Then the bishop or other high church official struck the door with a rod. 1 At this a subdeacon, dressed as the the sepulchre, was then usual at Canterbury. In the later portion of the Leofric Missal (Warren, C) we have a dramatic incident in the Good Friday ritual at the words : Partiti sunt vestimenta, when two cloths were to be torn asunder and carried off by two deacons in modum furientis (p. 261). At vespers there was an Adoratio Cruris. The cross was placed at some distance in front of the altar, and was adored by bishop, clergy, and people in turn (p. 262). The response Ecce lignum cruris and the hymn Crux fidelis occur as in the German forms, but, while in the Augsburg ritual it is directed that the cross-bearers shall walk with bare feet, in the Exeter it is ordered that the cross shall not be adored nudis })cdibus. In the York Missal (Surtees Society, vol. i. pp. 105-108) we have a fuller ritual for the Adoratio Cruris accompanied by the sepulture : Tandem adorata cruce bajulent earn duo Vicarii usque ad locum scpulchri . . . Posted Praelatus ponat flexis genibus crucem in sepulchro .... etc. The same ritual in a somewhat amplified form will be found in the Mamiale et Processionale ad usum Ecclesiae Eboraccnsis (Surtees Society, 1875, pp. 156-161). Another version of the same ceremony is contained in the Sarum Missal (Burntisland) col. 329 et srq. On the whole, the English ritual is not nearly so developed as the German. It may be more primitive, or the need for dramatic ritual may have been less. An account of a very complete Adoratio Cruris, sepulture and resurrection, which was formerly the custom at Durham will, however, be found in Davies, Rites of the Cathedral of Durham, 1672, p. 52. In this case the rood appears to have been kept not in the rood-loft, but inside the body of an image of the Virgin, which opened from the breasts downwards. 1 There is a somewhat similar incident in the processional for Palm Sunday given in the Rituale Romanum Pauli V Pont. Max. jussu editum Romac, 1750. It runs thus: "In reversione Processionis duo vel quattuor Cantores intrant in Ecclesiam et clauso ostio stantes versa facie ad Processionem incipiunt Versum THE GROWTH OF THE PASSION-PLAY 297 Devil and standing outside the door, cried in a gruff voice: Who is the King of Glory? The choir re- sponded : The Lord strong and mighty, the Lord mighty in battle. The blow on the door and the above responses were thrice repeated. The door was then opened, the populace admitted, and the choir and ecclesiastics form the head of a procession, which marched to the altar with the appropriate 139th Psalm and the KyrieJeyson. 1 The host was then elevated, and the priest sang the hymn : 2 — vere digna hostia per quam fracta sunt Tartara. Afterwards the Easter matins were conducted in the customary form. 3 We have in this ceremony a most important factor in the development of the passion-plays. The ritual itself is based upon the account given in the Gospel Gloria laus . . . Postea Subdiaconus hastili crucis percutit portum qua statin 1 aperta Processio intrat Ecclesiam cantando Responsorium : Ingrediente Domino." A still fuller form of this ceremony even, with the Attolitc portas and Quis est istc Rex, cjloriac of the office of the Elcvatio Crucis, has been printed by Martene, Be antiquis Ecclcsiac Ritibus, Liber iv. cap. 20. § 14, and Ordo 4 & 8. 1 In one version, a rubric states that the Guild of Butchers are to carry the cross back to the altar, — the thin end of the popular wedge. 2 Mone, Lateinische Hymnen, No. 161. 3 Concerning the Elevatio Crucis our information is more scanty than in the case of the Adoratio Crucis. Beyond the rituals given by Milchsack I can refer to none with the devil incident. The Brcviarius Havclbcrycnsis, 1511, gives a simple elevation in sancta noctc pascc (c. iiii b ). The York Manual and Pro- ccssional (p. 170) runs :— In aurora pulsatis campauis ad classicum congregato clero et populo, rlexis genibus dicitur Oratio Dominicalis et postea Sacerdos thurificet sepulchrum et proferatur sacramentuni cum imagine cum corona spinea. In a footnote the editor quotes two other rituals. In the first of these (St. John Lawson's MS. Manuale, a.d. 1405) the pyxidem cum Corporc et crucem were raised from the sepulchre ; in the second (the Sarum Processional), after the Corpus Christi and cross had been raised from the sepulchre, a procession went round the 29S THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y of Nicodemus (chapters xv.-xx.) of the descent into hell, where use is made of the 24th Psalm. Supple- mented by further extracts from that gospel, it forms the entire backbone of the popular hell -scenes of the passion-plays. 1 We can scarcely doubt the Elevatio is as old as the Visitatio, which immediately follows ; and we may safely assume that we have here the first origin of the Devil as a character in the religious drama — a character which in after ages became all -prominent, and acted as a centre for the introduction of popular and comic incidents into the original tragedy of the Passion. In the form of the ritual given above, the populace are excluded from the church while the ceremony of the resurrection takes place. They stand outside with the Devil, and are only admitted when the procession, returning to the altar, signifies the ascent from hell. The opportunity thus given to the ' subdeacon dressed as the devil ' for a little pantomime, while the ceremony went on inside, is obvious. The exclusion, however, was not universal. Sometimes the ritual was prefixed to the matins, and formed an integral part of the service ; at church. It seems doubtful in this case whether the public were admitted. We read : "Ante missam et ante campanarum pulsationem conveniant clerici ad Ecclesiam." Compare also Martene, loc. tit. Liber iv. cap. 25. §§ 5, 7. In an Ordo Bajocensis Ecclcsiac printed by Martene the populace is expressly mentioned as being present. In his § 9 we read : "In pervetusto etiam libro rituali Parthenouis Pictaviensis S. Crucis haec reperio : In prima vigilia noctis Paschae duo Presby- teri revestiti cum cappis pergunt ad sepulchrum . . . Inde elevatur et defertur Corpus Dominicum ad majus altare, praecedentibus cereis et thuribulis et pulsanti- bus signis." I think it in nowise possible to accept Milchsack's view that the populace were always excluded from the Elevatio. It may have been done in certain localities to repress heathen practices or beliefs, which, as I have remarked, were only too readily associated with the ceremony, but it was certainly not general. 1 F, p. 284 ; I, p. 141 ; C, p. 224 ; D, p. 88 : B, vol ii. p. 341, etc. THE GROWTH OF THE PASSION-PLA V 299 others, being performed at night, it collected, we hear, a great crowd of men and women, a superstition having arisen that those who witnessed the Elevatio would not die within the year. On this account a Synod at Worms in 1316 ordered that the public should be excluded from the office. 1 (iv.) TJie Visitatio Sepidchri. — The last portion of the scenic Easter ritual was the visitation of the sepulchre by the three Maries. Of this ritual, from its most primitive form in the eleventh-century manuscripts to its growth into an almost independent religious play, Milchsack has collected upwards of thirty examples (see G). In the earliest versions two or three priests clad as women, with cloaks over their surplices and censers in their hands, 2 went between the last response and the Te Deum to the sepulchre, from which, before matins, the elevation had taken place. They chanted : Mlw will roll away the stone from the door of the sepulchre ? Two persons clothed to represent angels answered from the sepulchre : Whom seek ye in th is sepulchre, worshippers of Christ? The Maries replied : Jesus of Nazareth, the crucified, Sons of heaven. 3 To which came the response : He is not here, he has arisen as he prophesied. The Maries then swung their censers over the sepulchre, and the angels 1 G, p. 119 footnote. 2 I have already referred to the miniature reproduced by Mone (B, vol. i. p. 8) of three priests representing the three Maries. A fragment of a Visit scene, representing a priest or monk dressed as an angel, with thurible in hand, is built into the wall of the south side of Highani Ferrers Church. :1 Quern quaeritis in sepulchro, o christicolae '. Jesum Nazarenum crucifixum, coelicolae ! The whole is taken from Mark xvi. 2-7. 3oo THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y continued : Go announce that he has arisen from the dead. With this the priests returned to the choir, and the Te Deum of the morning service followed. 1 Such a primitive form is, however, exceptional. In most cases the ritual, or play — for there is little to distinguish them — begins with a hymn or series of responses as an intro- duction, various portions of which are still retained in the fully developed passion-plays. In a twelfth-century version from Einsiedeln we find a double choir, one half of which represents the prophets, and chants the fine Christmas hymn : 2 — Gloriosi et famosi regis festum celebrantes gaudeamus, cuius ortum, vitae portuni, nobis datum praedicantes habeamus, etc. Then there is an expanded dialogue, and the action is 1 I may add a few references to rituals not given by Milchsack. The Brcviarius Havclbergensis of 1511 (c. iiii b ) orders that in churches where the holy and praiseworthy custom of the visitation of the sepulchre is maintained, it shall be performed without ludibrio seu qua vanitate, and according to the local use. It should conclude with Christ ist upgestanden from the folk, and the Te Deum. The Breviarium Frisingensc of 1516 (fol. 197 b ) has the rubric fit interea processio ad sepulckrum ; et ibi representatur planctus mulierum sepulchrum visitantium ; angelorum quoque apparitio Christi resurrcctionem nunciantium. The words of the dialogue given are of the primitive type above referred to, but they conclude with : Populus : CJirist ist crstanden, Chorus: Te Deum. The introduction of the vernacular into these rituals is of interest. Much valuable information as to the Visitatio will be found in Martene, loc. cit. Liber iv. cap. 25. In § 17 we have a primitive form from Tours ; in § 11 a peculiarly interesting and full form from Narbonne (cf. Milchsack, G, p. 58). In § 8 there is a primitive form from Laon ending with the Victimae Paschali. In columns 500-507 (Antwerp edition, T. iii. ) will be found various other rituals from Strasburg, Vienne, etc. At Vienne there appear to have been two distinct forms, one based on the sequence Victimae Paschali and the other on the gospel narrative. As a rule, but not quite invariably, the ceremony is stated to have concluded with the Te Deum. " B, vol. i. p. 10 ; G, p. 36. THE GROWTH OF THE PASSION-PLAY 301 not ended when the two or three Maries 1 return to the choir. There they announced the resurrection to two of 'the older and more worthy canons,' who represent Peter and John. These two elders, while the choir chant John xx. 4, run to the grave, sed junior citius seniore, and receiving from the angels the burial linen, exhibit it to the congregation. They return to the choir chanting, Behold, comrades, the linen and the napkin, the body is not to be found in the sepulchre. 2 Still further development was attained by increasing the lamentations of the three Maries, by a dialogue between Peter and John ; and then by the introduction of an entirely new scene between Mary Magdalen and Christ as the gardener. 3 With this it might be thought that the gospel narrative, so far as it could be used in a scenic ritual, had been exhausted. But this is by no means the case. Pilate can be introduced sending soldiers to the sepulchre, and then bribing them to conceal the fact of the resurrection. Jesus, having once been introduced as the gardener, and no longer merely represented by the rood or host, can have his part widely extended ; we can have his appearance to the Twelve, and the scene with the unbelieving Thomas. Nay, the playwright, for so we must now call him, rememberino- the verse which states that the three Maries had bought sweet spices (Mark xiv. 1), soon inserted a colloquy between the women and the dealer in spices. All these elements have already 1 Mary Magdalen, Mary Salome, and Mary the mother of James {Maria Jacobi). 2 See G, p. 51. 3 G, pp. t>6, 71. 75. 302 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y been added to the primitive ritual in the twelfth- century mystery from Tours. 1 In this play we see at once what an advance has been made on the primitive ritual, which still, for several centuries, remained current in various localities in its original form. The Tours Mystery was still intended to be given in the church [Maria Magdalene in sinistra parte ecclesiae stans), and probably during the Easter morning service, 2 yet the author has raised scenic ritual to religious drama. Here, albeit in the language of the Church, we have many touches which have won a permanent place for themselves in the great folk passion-plays. Here we find the first actually authenti- cated case 3 of a comic incident in the treatment of the mercator — the later ' medicine-man ' — who boasts the wondrous properties of his drugs. " Come," he cries, " buy this ointment, and you will do well " : — Quod si corpus possetis ungere, lion amplius posset putrescere, neque vermes possent commedere. Another salve possessed such wondrous potency that it cannot be sold for a small price : — Hoc uiiguentum, si multum cupitis, unum auri talentum dabitis, ue aliter unquam portabitis. This rnercator is the prototype of Magister Ypocras, whose salves possess the power of bringing 1 Dramcs liturgiques, E. de Coussemaker ; and G, p. 97. 2 It concludes, like the scenic rituals, with the Te Deum. Owing to the loss of the first page of the manuscript, we do not know how it commenced. 3 The Devil in the Elevatio ritual, and the race of Peter and John to the sepulchre in the Visitatio ritual, would probably be regarded by the folk as humorous, but we cannot assert that they were at first actually intended to be so. THE GROWTH OF THE PASSION-PLAY 303 the dead to life again, and who drives the hardest possible bargain with the three Maries (C, pp. 236 el seq. ) It is very significant that in the German sixteenth- century play, with its highly developed medicine-man, the same Latin words are sung by the actors before they speak in the vernacular as occur in the twelfth- century French mystery. 1 Thus we see that in France as early as the twelfth century the scenic ritual had developed into a fairly complex Church drama ; nor is Germany — to judge from manuscript evidence — much, if anything, behind hand, for we have from the thirteenth century a play of the nativity with nearly thirty characters and further a passion-play wherein we find transferred to a salve-dealer, from whom Mary Magdalen buys ointment to anoint Christ, the very words used by the mercator to the Maries in the Tours Mystery.' 2 Clearly between 1150 and 1250 there was some cosmopolitan element at work forcing the pace at which the scenic ritual developed, and introducing folk-elements of a scarcely religious char- acter. This leads us to the cloister scholars as the third factor in the evolution of the passion-play. The two German plays to which we have just referred occur in the middle of a manuscript of the thirteenth century which formerly belonged to the abbey of Benedictbeuern, and can hardly fail to have been the production of the cloister scholars. The remainder of this manuscript is occupied with Latin poems of a very typical character. Exactly the same or very similar 1 The earliest (c. 1300) German passion-play gives a quite original sketch oi" the pedlar or paltcnaerc taking out a license from Pilate : sic W, i. 2 See J, pp. SO, 85. 304 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA V poems are to be found in several English and French manuscripts of a like date. 1 These poems were the common property of the wandering clerks or strolling- scholars — men who, in pre-university days, wandered over the face of Europe from teacher to teacher, and from cloister-school to cloister-school, seeking theology in Paris, classical literature in Orleans, law in Bologna, and perhaps magic in Toledo. They were young, poor, merry, and often vagabond. They would create a riot in Paris about the high price of wine, or a disturbance in Orleans on account of the charms of a fair but frail damsel. They were mostly in lower clerical orders or were about to enter them, for their education could only be of service to them in the Church. Adepts in the Latin tongue, they did not hesitate to turn it to both religious and secular purposes ; religious drama, pro- cessional hymn, love-song, and satire were all one to them, and what the Church lost by their license, she did not fail to regain by their Latinity. Some of the finest Church hymns and some of the tenderest mediaeval songs to the Virgin were most probably the creation of these strollino' scholars. Such men, with their command of language, their love of amusement, their folk-origin, their semi - clerical and cosmopolitan character, were eminently fitted for developing the scenic ritual into a religious folk-drama. It was they who introduced the 1 Besides the Carmina Burana (see J), the reader may consult The Latin Poems commonly attributed to Walter Mwpes, ed. Wright, 1841 ; Die X Gedichte des Walther von Lille, Hannover, 1859; Gedichte auf Fricderich I. den Stcmfer, J. Grimm (Kleinere Schriften, Bd. iii. p. 1) ; Poisies populaires latines, ed. Edel- stand du Meril, Paris, 1843 and 1847 ; Early Mysteries and other Latin Poems, ed. Wright, 1844. The best account of the strolling scholars is to be found in Giesebrecht, Vagantenodcr Goliarden, Allgcmcine Monatsschrift, Halle, 1853 ; see also Hubatsch, Die lateinischen Vagaatenlieder des Mittelalters, GiJrlitz, 1870. THE GROWTH OF THE PASSION-PLAY 305 folk-spirit and the vernacular ; they helped largely in that complete transformation of Eastern Christianity which turned its fast-day into a festival, its holy day into a holiday, and satisfied the wants of the populace for a festive and dramatic religion comparable with the old heathen faith. The strolling scholars naturally took part in the dramatic performances of the cloister- schools ; such performances were not infrequent and their texts fairly developed even in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. Then, as the scenic Church ritual grew in extent, and its requirements exceeded the strength of the resident clergy, — as might easily be the case in non-monastic or in parish churches, — a strolling clerk was called in to assist. It appears probable that the whole of the Easter scenic ritual was occasionally entrusted to a company of strolling scholars ; and then they readily expanded the somewhat elastic ritual, or even re-wrote the bulk of the dialogue. 1 Nor can there be 1 Besides the strolling-scholar plays printed by Schmeller in the Carmina Biiraaa, there are three plays due to Hilarius dating from the first half of the twelfth century and of a like character (see Champollion-Figeac, Hlh>. Versus ct Lvdi, Paris, 1838). That Hilarius was a genuine Golliard his satirical verses De papa scolastico (p. 41) demonstrate. In the first two of his plays, the Suscitatio Lasari (p. 24) and the Lucius super iconia Sancti Nicolai (p. 34), we have a mixture of Latin and French, precisely as in the corresponding German plays we have a mixture of Latin and German. For example, a verse of Mary's lamentation in the first play rims : — Ex culpa veteri Damnantur posteri Mortalis hVri. Hor ai dolor Hor est mis frere morz Por que gei plor. The same play ends with a significant rubric, showing that it was intended to be acted at matins or vespers in church : Quo finito, si factum fuerit ad matutinas Lazarus incipiat Tc Deum Laudamus, si vero ad vesperas Magnificat Bout inum. Another play due to the strolling scholars is the remarkable De adventv Antichristi (see N), due to the twelfth century. At the end of the next century we VOL. II X 3 o6 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y much doubt as to the direction in which they strove to develop the religious drama. To win the popular approval meant at least a good meal when the play- was over. 1 There is both direct and indirect evidence connecting several early plays with the Golliards. Thus in the thirteenth-century Benedictbeuern play we find Mary Magdalen, before her conversion, singing a well- known strolling-scholar drinking-song : — Mundi delectatio dulcis est et grata cuius conversatio suavis et ornata, 2 and buying — this time in the vernacular — rouge of the mercator in order to entice her lovers : — Chramer, gip die varwe ruir diu min wengel roete, da mit ich die jungen man an ir danch der minneuliebe noete. Seht mieh an, jungen man ! Lat mich eu gefallen ! 3 must certainly credit them with the Ludus de decern Virginibus (see O), we read : "Ludus est factus apud Isinach in orto ferarum (Thiergarten) a clericis et a scholaribus de decern Virginibus, cui ludo marchio intererat" (Chronicle of 1335, cited 0, pp. 3, 4). For evidence of the handiwork of the scholars in the Bohemian plays, see U, pp. 47, 84. 1 More than one of the later German passion-plays conclude with the request that the scholars may receive a good meal (see I, p. 30 ; A, p. 144 ; B, i. p. 264 footnote ; and F, p. 326). Something of the same kind seems to he the drift of Gratemauvaiz's speech at the end of La Nativiti de Jhesu-Christ (Jubinal, loc. cit. vol. ii. p. 77). The meal to the actors was often kept up even in the case of the great passion-plays. In Frankfurt three days after the play the Town Council gave the performers a breakfast. In the expenses of the Coventry Mysteries for 1490 we find entries for ale, gallons of beer, wine, ribs of beef, and geese figure largely. See also Appendix II. 2 J, p. 96. The very same song occurs 200 years later in a Ludus Mariae Magdalene in gaudio (I, p. 105). 3 " Pedlar, give me rouge to colour my cheeks that I may force the youths to thought of love. Look, youth, at me, and let me delight you." THE GROWTH OF THE PASSION-PLA Y 307 Pedlar and youth reply to the Magdalen in German, and we thus have evidence of the strolling scholars directly introducing the native tongue. In the same play Mary, after her conversion by an angel, strips off her gay clothing, upon which her lover and the devil fly from her. She then goes to buy the ointment. Most of the incidents of the Passion are given shortly and in Latin, but it is noteworthy that the lamentations of the Magdalen over her sin, those of the Virgin at the death of her Son, and the final songs of Joseph of Ariniathaea and of Pilate are in the vernacular. This example must suffice to indicate how the tendency of these vagabond scholars was to secularise the religious play. At the same time their cosmopolitan rovings fully account for the close resemblances in both incidents and words between French and German plays of the most distant districts. The incident of the mercator occurring in plays scattered all over Europe from France to Bohemia 1 is no more accidental than the recurrence in manuscripts from all quarters of the same strolling -scholar Latin songs and hymns. In the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries the strolling- scholars are perpetually classed with wandering min- strels, actors, joculatores, jesters, and buffoons. There is still in existence the song of a strolling scholar, one John of Niirnberg, of the fourteenth century, who bemoans in his Vita Vdgorum his own hard life. He tells us how he must go about as a medi- cine-man to cure the parson's maid of wrinkles, how 1 For Bohemia see U, p. 72. 3o8 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y he no longer frequents the courts of archbishops and prelates, but associates with the dregs of society — he has become a magician, a hawker of wonders, and a quack. 1 Such a song casts considerable light on the life of the vagabond scholar, who developed the part of the mercator, the pedlar of the passion-plays. He is a man of the people, and he moulds the religious play in the spirit of the people. He played a note- worthy part in the adaptation of Christianity to the needs of mediaeval man. The capture of the religious drama by the people was not, of course, achieved entirely through the agency of the strolling scholars. There is a rubric to one of the scenic rituals which clearly illustrates another route by which the folk-spirit penetrated into the ecclesiastical citadel. It runs as follows : — It is allowable for those who peradventure cannot find persons of this type (i.e. the necessary clergy) to perform the Visitation of the Sepulchre after the above manner with other persons, if they be of becoming and discreet behaviour. 2 This rubric left a considerable latitude to the local clergy — themselves sons of the people — and the following incident from Tyll Ulenspiegel z will sufficiently exemplify what sort of persons in the fifteenth century, and probably long before, were considered in country places to be of ' becoming and discreet behaviour. ' 1 Grimm, Altdeutsche Wdlder, ii. p. 49. 2 G, p. 129. The rubric was probably common long before the fifteenth century, when we first find it attached to a very primitive form of the ritual. 3 XIII Historic, ed. Lappenberg, p. 16. THE GROWTH OF THE PASSION-PLA Y 309 Now as Easter approached the parson said to Ulenspiegel, his sacristan : " It is the custom here that the peasants every Easter give in the night an Easter -play of how our Lord arose from the grave." And so he (Tyll) must help, since it were fitting that the sacristan should arrange such matters. Then Ulenspiegel thought : How now shall the peasants get through this Mary- play ? And he said to the parson : " There is no peasant here who is learned enough ; you must lend me your maid, who can both write and read." Then said the parson : " So be it, take all who can help you, man or woman ; my maid, indeed, has acted often enough before." The housekeeper was right glad, and wished to be the angel in the grave, for she knew the requisite verses by heart. Then Ulenspiegel took unto himself two peasants that they might play with him the three Maries, and he taught one peasant the Latin verses. And finally, the parson was our Lord, who had to arise from the grave. Now when Ulenspiegel came before the sepulchre with his two peasants dressed as Maries, the housekeeper, as the angel, recited the Latin verse, Qv* vm queritis ? 1 "Whom seek ye here 1 Then said the peasant who represented the first Mary, even as Ulenspiegel had taught him : " We seek an old, one-eyed, parson's concubine ! " 2 The resulting catastrophe may be easily imagined. The angel sprang from the grave and rushed in a fury at the Maries. In the scuffle which followed, her wings were knocked off; then the parson dropped his resur- rection-banner and came to her assistance. A scene 1 See our account of the Visitation ritual, p. 299. 2 This defect in vision appears to have been common to the class. Thus a Cellarius complains in the Consultatio Sacerdotum : — me regit una bestia, sinerem salire, sed meretrix monocula renuit abire. Poems of Walter Mapes, p. 175. The widespread existence of these women deserves a careful consideration, when the moral aspect of Catholic asceticism is considered. Much information will be found in the Church visitations of the sixteenth century, but more, perhaps, in medieval literature. Considerable insight may lie gained from a perusal of the Heidelberg quodlibet disputation, De fa'< concubinarum in Sacerdotcs, edited by Crato of Udenheim about 1500 and often reprinted. 3 1 o THE GERM A N PA SS10N-PLA Y of wild confusion arose round the sepulchre, which Ulenspiegel noting removed himself opportunely, and ran out of the church and from the village, and came not again that way. God show them where to find another sacristan ! The above narrative — putting on one side its farcical termination — is instructive. It shows us the general arrangements and the character of the persons employed in rural districts. We note that the time is the night following Easter Eve, and thus the play was not invari- ably given at Easter Matins, as supposed by Milchsack. The angel is winged, 1 and the deity no longer represented by a symbol, e.g. the cross. The parson, who carries a banner — the resurrection -banner with a cross on it — now acts the part of Christ. The gradual growth from cross to banner and then to banner-bearer appears clear, and this fossil, the cross-banner, remains not only in the greater passion-plays, but in woodcuts and pictures. 2 From the thirteenth to the fourteenth centuries we find that the plays, although still acted in the churches, 3 1 The angels in the Narbonne ritual (Martene, loc. tit. Liber iv. cap. 25. § 9) are "induti albis et amictibus cum stolis viola tis et sindone rubea in facies eorum et cdis in humeris." 2 See for example both the larger and smaller woodcut passions of Albrecht Diirer. This banner occurs not only in the resurrection, but also in the descent into hell. It appears very early ; thus we find it in the descent into hell in the Antiplwnary of St. Peter's at Salzburg (1092-1120). In the Codex Ottoburancnsis {circa 1200) Christ is seen prodding the devil-dragon with the end of the banner stock. Three centuries later, in the famous Cranach altar- piece at Weimar, we find Christ trampling on Death and Devil, and thrusting them down with the resurrection-banner. 3 In 1303 Robert de Brunne translated an Anglo-French poem written about 1250, the Manuel de Peche. We find therein the lines : — He may yn the cherche, thrugh thys resun, Pley the resurreccyun, which shows that the plays were then usually performed in church. THE GROWTH OF THE PASSION-PLAY 311 were more and more popularised owing to the changes we have indicated in the nature of the dialogue and the character of the participating 'personnel. The folk- passion for theatrical representation had reasserted itself in religion, even in the most sacred sphere of Church ritual. The very instrument designed by the Church to destroy the delight of the people in heathen spectacular festivals was taken by the people into their own hands, and used to supply a want which, although it arises from the same emotions as produce popular religions, is none the less scarcely ecclesiastical. The most striking sign of this folk-influence was the growing use of the vernacular. The Latin verses, sung or chanted, were immediately followed by German translations (or often amplifications) for the benefit of the unlettered. The end of the thirteenth century and the fourteenth century present us with extraordinary medleys ; portions of the old scenic ritual, the noblest hymns of the Church, and dramatised words of Scripture, were curiously inter- mingled with the homeliest of folk-phrases and folk- ideas. 1 At such a period of transition a new factor of growth seems to have come directly or indirectly into action. 1 See L, vol. ii. pp. 272 ct seq. Also the St. Gallen passion-play (B, vol. ii. p. 72), wherein the actors first sing in Latin and then speak in German ; the Maria Himmelfahrt and the Auferstchung Christi (A, particularly pp. 139 ct seq.) ; and even later in the Erlauerspiele (iii. and iv. of I). The Play of the Foolish Virgins (see 0), composed about 1300, is peculiarly such a medley. The stage- directions are all in Latin ; Latin responses, antiphones, and hymns, and slightly altered Vulgate verses are frequent, but the body of the play is in a crude and lame Thiiringian dialect. The customary Latin hymns and verses of the Easter ritual, followed by German adaptations and expansions, occur in the Easter-play printed by Schbnemann (M, p. 149), etc. Precisely the same mixture of Latin and vernacular occurs in the Bohemian plays from about 1400 (see U, pp. 26 et seq. ) 3 i2 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y The great mediaeval religious epics written in the verna- cular could hardly fail to influence the translators and adapters of the Latin Church plays. Long before the fourteenth century Latin had ceased to be the chief language for religious lyric and epic. From the eleventh century onwards there is a continuous and increasing production of religious poems in the German tongue ; on the one side we have the lyric hymns to the Virgin, on the other the epic legends of the saints and the lives of Christ and of his Mother. In the thirteenth century the passion for religious epics reached its climax. The same spirit as we have noted in the chronicles and the early history-books, the conception of the world-drama centring round the person of Christ, manifests itself in an endeavour to represent the story of Christ as a great world-epic. Thus one noteworthy poem, laying in its title, The Redemption, 1 emphasis on the moral solution of the world -problem, 2 takes us from the Creation to the Day of Judgment, and gives an especially dramatic colouring and language to the events of the Passion. Another — the Passional 3 — in more than 100,000 lines describes the birth of the Virgin and that of Christ, then follow the gospel narrative, the lives of the disciples and the apostles, and, finally, of all the saints from Nicholas to Catherine. These two poems alone are an immense storehouse of mediaeval thought 1 Die Erlosung, edited by K. Bartsch, 1858. 2 The reader may turn to what has been said as to this point on pp. 256-259. 3 Das alte Passional, Parts i. and ii., Halm, 1845, and Das Passional, Tart iii., Kbpke, 1852. These books are of first-class importance for the student of mediieval art. THE GROWTH OF THE PASSION-PLA Y 313 and feeling, and their study would serve equally well with that of the passion-plays as an introduction to the mediaeval spirit. Here we can only refer to them as influences working potently on the adapters of the thirteenth-century Church plays. The influence of TJie Redemption, in particular, is so great that Milchsack has not hesitated to attribute all the German passion- plays to a common original, which was itself a drama- tised version of TJte Redemption} If the liturgical basis of so many scenes in the plays, and the existence at a very early date of incidents common to the French, English, and German plays, seems to exclude this rather extreme theory, we may still admit that the religious epics exercised very great influence on the development of the Church dramas in a folk-direction. While the passion-plays in the course of the fifteenth century grew from elements of the Church service into great folk-dramas lasting two or three days, they never entirely freed themselves from their original liturgical character. In most of them Latin Church hymns re- mained, and to the very last we find almost without exception the stage-directions given in Latin.' 2 But the Church ritual had another and more indirect influence over the folk-drama ; it gave the passion-plays their operatic character. It is not only the choruses of chil- dren at the triumphal entry 3 who sing, but so does the High Priest, 4 the Magdalen, and the Virgin. Even Christ himself at the Last Supper and upon the Cross 1 See G, p. 21, and E, p. 295. Compare the sounder views of Kummer in I, Einleitung, p. lii. 2 Some relics of this usage have possibly survived even in the drama of to-day. 3 E.g. F, pp. 120-125. 4 F, pp. 149, 150. 3 i4 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLAY sings his part. 1 A play which, at the moment of its climax, — the death on the cross — directs that the chief part is to be sung and gives the music can only be classed as an opera. Hitherto the musical side of the passion-play does not seem to have been sufficiently emphasised ; it may fairly be called the parent of the modern oratorio. Thus we see the song of the old heathen folk-festival appearing in a new form in the religious drama ; as we shall see later, it was not long before an excuse was found for the introduction of the dance. With the rapid growth of the passion-play, when once the folk-element had become predominant, we can- not now deal at length ; indeed, the material necessary for a complete review of its later growth is only just being published. 2 It must suffice to say that, literally and figuratively, the folk carried the religious drama from the Church onto the market-place. 3 There, at the end of the fifteenth and beginning of the sixteenth centuries, it attained to its fullest bloom. A sketch of such a fully developed play I shall later place before the reader, meanwhile it is needful to say something of the mediaeval stage and its accessories. 1 F, pp. 120-125. See also p. 348, and the stage-directions of almost all the passion-plays already cited. 2 E.g. in 1882. 3 Probably the first step to the market-place was the churchyard, or, as in Freiburg, the cathedral close. Of course the drama did not at once, or indeed ever entirely, desert the church. Plays appear in England to have been given in connection with the churches even after the Reformation : see Appendix II. At the beginning of this century Magi-plays were still performed after mass in some of the churches of Upper Bavaria (see R, p. 34). At Zuckmantel, even in this century, the first part of the passion-play was acted in the church, thejiruci- fixion on a neighbouring hill (see Y, p. 11). THE STAGE OF THE PASSION-PLAY 315 V. — On the Stage, Stage Furniture, Costumes, and Symbols of the Passion-Play TJie Stage. — Nothing appears more suggestive of the ecclesiastical origin of the passion-play than the arrange- ment of the stage. The two forms of stage with which we are acquainted may be described not unfitly as the flat stage and the elevated Btage ; the former was more common in Germany, the latter in France, but there were no rigid geographical or national limitations. In both cases the stage consisted, as a rule, of three divi- sions, but the origin as well as purport of these divisions in the two stages were quite different. There has been considerable discussion as to the reason for these two forms of stage having been adopted, but it appears to me that, if due weight be given to scenic church ritual as a primitive source of the religious drama, then con- siderable light will fall on the stage arrangements from a consideration of the internal divisions of a mediaeval cathedral or church. In such a building it will be found that the choir is usually raised several feet above the nave. Underneath the choir is frequently a crypt, the entrance to which is either in the middle or at the side of the steps leading up from the nave. 1 "Within the choir there is usually a gallery of some sort, 2 the 1 Compare Keller's Bauriss des Klosters St. Gallen torn Jahr 820. The cases of many cathedrals will occur to the reader. There is a church at Lastingham, in Yorkshire, with such a crypt, but the rooddoft has disappeared. The St. Gallen Church had a gallery behind the altar. 8 The rooddoft, or at least its staircase, can be found in many English parish churches. There is a gallery round the choir in Gloucester Cathedral ; one behind the altar in Compton Church, Surrey. The sepulchre at Bampton Church, Oxfordshire, is built in tuv stories, the upper was probably used for the 3 16 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLAY triforium, the rood-loft, or even a gallery running along the top of the choir-stalls, and in some cases behind the altar. This gallery will be reached by a staircase or by steps from the choir. Now such an arrangement is eminently suited for the Easter scenic ritual. The door of the crypt serves for the gate of hell, the main body of the choir containing the sepulchre for earth, while the rood-loft or gallery represents heaven. AVhere the folk were admitted to the Elevatio Crucis (see p. 295), the main door of the church could not represent hell-gate, but some other had to be selected, and the door into the crypt was a very suitable place for the subdeacons, who represented Satan and his followers, to stand. It is further to be noted that the rood, symbolising the deity, after being taken from its ' usual place ' on Good Friday and placed in the sepulchre, was restored after the Elevatio on Easter Day. 1 Now the 'usual place' for the rood is either the rood-loft, if one exists, or above the altar, or above the entrance to the choir. The removal of the rood marks the earthly mission, the descent from heaven ; its replacement the fulfilment of the mission, and the return to heaven. Gallery, choir, and crypt thus obtain a new significance, they are the heaven, earth, and hell of the scenic ritual ; and their relative elevations are in accordance with folk-belief. 'heaven.' On the left of the sepulchre there is a door which may well have stood for hell-gate. This arrangement should be compared with an engraving by the Swabian master (E. S.), dating from 1466, in honour of Our Lady of Einsiedeln ; below there is a sepulchre, above the Virgin and the Trinity in a gallery. Compton Church, with its altar-gallery, has also a sepulchre which is reproduced in the Glossary of Architecture, vol. i. p. 422. 1 Deincle crucifixum reponitur ad locum suum solitum, Augsburg Ritual, G, pp. 129, 132. Fig. 3. — Heaven as a Gallery. By the Master E. S. Tofacejp. 316. THE STAGE OF THE PASSION-PLAY 317 This was the basis of the elevated passion-play stage. We have three floors, one above the other, connected by stairs. The top floor represented heaven with the Trinity, the angels, and sometimes the Virtues ; the bottom floor, hell, with Lucifer, Satan, Death, the smaller devils, the damned, and the patriarchs ; l the middle floor, earth, and there the main portion of the play took place. By means of the upper flight of stairs God and the angels visited earth, and the souls of the blessed were carried heavenwards. In like manner the lower flight gave Satan and his coadjutors access to earth, and enabled them to carry off the damned ; at the same time, it afforded facilities for the rescue of the patriarchs. Such a form of stage evidently had popularity in Germany as well as France. Thus Kriiger's passion-play of the sixteenth century pre- supposes such an arrangement. 2 In the Lucius cle decern Virginibus it would seem, from the stage-direc- tions, that there was a gallery at the back for God and the angels, while the actors were further able to descend from the main body of the stage onto a level with the spectators. The general idea of the elevated stage did not escape the mediaeval artist, and the Trinity in an upper gallery is a favourite topic. 3 Occasionally the three-storied stage was still further developed, and we 1 The ' hell ' seems to have been pretty fully developed even before the drama left the precincts of the church. Thus we read of a permanent hell made of iron and wood in a fifteenth-century church (see Glossary of Architecture, vol. i. p. 422). For the Chelmsford hell, see Appendix II. 2 H, vol. ii. p. 21. 3 As suggestive for the passion-plays, see inter alia the 1466 engraving Our Lady of Einsiedeln, by E. S., the cut in Tengler's Leyenspkgel, fol. cxxii b , etc. 318 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y hear of a stage at Metz no less than nine stories high. 1 The elevated stage erected upon the market-place, or in the cathedral close, must have been a conspicuous object towering above the surrounding booths. At the same time it offered, by its peculiar construction, every opportunity for the interchange of a rough folk-wit — a sturdy if sometimes coarse badinage — between the devils on the ground-floor and the hawkers, quacks, and cheap- jacks, who then, as now, thronged to popular festivities. To restrain this humour, the play itself had to be made more and more humorous, extended roles had to be given to the devils, and the comic element made a feature of the first importance. 2 Indeed, if it were not that in the twelfth-century Tours Mystery we already find a medicine -man inside the church, we might readily suppose the original of this character to be the market quack, whose flow of wit could only be silenced by drawing him into hell, 3 whence he ultimately mounted to earth, and took his part in selling salves to the three Maries or ointment to the Magdalen. For the origin of the second form of stage — the flat stage — we must seek, we believe, in the transverse division of the church. From the nave to the altar we find in many early German churches two, three, or 1 See Otto Roquet te, Geschkhtc cler deutschcn Dichtung, p. 157 ; and also Strutt, Manners and Customs, vol. iii. p. 130. 2 The humorous devil was, however, not confined to the stage, compare the devil trying to hinder Christ from rescuing the patriarchs on the carved altar by Hans Briiggerman in Schleswig Cathedral ; the date is about 1515. 3 At Alsfeld, we hear, a space was cleared round the passion-play stage, and any one trespassing upon it was handed over to the safe keeping of the devils. It is still more noteworthy that in the Bohemian plays the devils found the damned souls to carry off to hell by raiding the audience itself : see U, pp. 85, 86. THE STAGE OF THE PASSION-PLA Y 319 even more partitions carried right across the choir, not to mention a possible apse-chapel cut off' by the altar- screen from the body of the church. These partitions were not merely nominal divisions, but frequently sub- stantial screens of lattice -work containing doors for ingress and egress. The presbyterium, with the altar, was divided from the main body of the choir, and the choir itself from the nave. In some cases a portion of the nave in front of the choir was inclosed, and in this inclosure pulpit and reading-desks were placed. 1 It is clear that the scenic ritual would have to pay attention to these partitions ; the altar, the sepulchre, the ' usual place' for the rood, and the seats of the officiating clergy, would not necessarily fall into one division. The door of one screen may have represented that of heaven, while a second door may have been conveniently used as hell-gate. If we examine the flat form of the passion-play stage, we find its plan a long rectangle, trisected by two barriers with gates. These barriers appear to serve no useful purpose in the development of the scenic action, nor do the three divisions, as in the elevated stage, correspond to heaven, earth, and hell. We are com- pelled to regard them as fossils of the primitive stage, and from this standpoint the choir-screens naturally suggest themselves. The so-called ' houses ' or stations to which unoccupied actors retire are scattered about these divisions in a manner convenient for the suc- cessive incidents of the play, but having no relation to the barriers. Attached to the manuscript of the Donau- 1 Bauriss dcs Klosters St. Gallen, pp. 16, 18. 320 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y eschingen passion-play is the plan of such a stage. 1 . Supposing this stage to correspond to the choir of a church, we should pass from the nave to the ante-choir by the ' first gate ' ( 1 ). Within this first division we find / (/' / *a "■** / 4? c ,7 I 't I i 1 a it /Oi U IS 1 II / 2 12 i? / ' < ' '%*» 'O \_/ to 3 a < 1 r 5 | db 6 ! 7 L^ ^ 2 ^ 3 r\ 6 C Flat Passion-Plat Stage after Mone. A, B, C, are the three divisions, SEPARATED BY THE THREE GATES, 1, 5 AND 13. to the left the hell (2) ; to the right, the Garden of Geth- semane (3) and the Mount of Olives (4), the latter probably placed here in order to be ' outside the gates.' 1 B, vol. ii. pp. 156, 184. Among the ' houses ' mentioned on the last page cited we find the Magdalen's Garden, the Apothecary's Shop, the Well of Samaria, Lazarus's Grave, etc. THE STAGE OF THE PASSION-PLAY 321 Entering at the 'second gate' (5) into what would correspond to the choir proper, we notice immediately in front of us 'the scourging pillar' (8), and behind it ' the pillar with the cock ' (9). ' On our left hand appears Herod's 'house '(6) and the 'house of the last supper' (12); on our right the 'houses' of Pilate (7), Caiaphas (10), and Annas (11) are arranged in order. Passing through the ' third gate ' (13) into what would correspond to the presbyterium, we find the Calvary with the three crosses (18, 19, 20) and the four graves out of which the dead arise on Christ's death (14-17) ; to the right lies the sepulchre (21), and in the position corresponding to the high altar, the 'heaven (22).' Considered as arising from the internal divisions of a church choir, it will be seen that the flat passion-play stage is in part explicable. I have not come across another hypothesis which throws any light on the threefold division and the remarkable barriers. Mone supposes that as the play proceeded and its action passed from heaven across the world to hell, the spectators would walk along by the side of the stage and halt at the point where the action was about to take place. He thus accounts for the Silete, which precedes all new incidents. Although, in the absence of overtures or entr'acte music, the Silete on a crowded market-place hardly needs accounting for, it is still possible that the spectators moved about. We have, however, no very definite notion of the size of the 1 This is the bird which warns Peter of his denial. The ' pillar with the cock ' has a heathen ring about it. The mediaeval peasant-dances round a cock on a post — the so-called HaJincntanzen — at the times of the fire-festivals may be cited (see Grimm, Mythologic, p. 558 ; Simrock, Mytliologie, p. 284 ; Mannhardt, Der Baumkultus, p. 174 ; and for a pictorial representation, Albrecht Diirer's l,'i>ii(Lcichnungcn zum Gcbetbuche). VOL. II Y 322 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y stage ; and, as it is probable that the so-called ' houses ' were only spaces marked by posts at the corners, there may, after all, have been no difficulty in a stationary spectator hearing and seeing all that was going on. The only definite measurement I have come across is that which may be based on the stage-directions of the Freiburg passion-play given in the manuscript of 1604. The stage in this case was not divided, but the actors made their exits and their entrances at what we may term the ' wings.' Headers who have visited Freiburg will remember the fine old fifteenth-century Kaufhaus which immediately faces the south door of the cathedral. The passion-play stage was built right across the cathe- dral yard from the south porch to the portico of the Kaufhaus. Thus we read in the stage-directions : * " While the Jews surround Christ, the disciples are to fly to the Kaufhaus " ; " The Council stand up and retire to the Kaufhaus, the Jews lead Christ into the Minster''' ; and "Judas comes out of the Minster" etc. At this point the cathedral yard must be from 1 1 to 120 feet broad, which will give some notion of the size of the stage in the sixteenth century. As in the case of the elevated stage, the spectators would take their places on both sides, which was thus very suitably termed a 'bridge.' 2 The flat stage, although chiefly adopted in Germany, was still well known in France. 3 1 K, pp. 124, 134, 159, 161, etc. 2 Briige, Britschc, Brilcke. See K, pp. 69, 118 ; also Schmeller, Bayerisclics IVortcrbuch, i. 347 ; and compare with B, vol. i. p. 22, etc. ; vol. ii. p. 24. See further D, pp. 50, 53 ("liber die prugk "). 3 A complete account of such a stage, with les mansions, is given in the opening verses of the play, La Resurrection du Sauveur, Fragment d'un Mystere inidit. (ed. by Jubinal, Paris, 1834), p. 4. The date of the play is 1050-1150. " D'abord THE STAGE OF THE PASSION-PLA Y 323 Both stages existed contemporaneously, and there is no reason to suppose one supplanted the other. When the passion-play developed — especially in England — into a pageant, movable stages on wheels were drawn, often by a dozen men, through the streets. These stages, as at Chester, were sometimes built in two stories, the lower to dress in and the upper for acting. As at Coventry, the sections of the drama were then repeated in all the principal streets. Stage-Accessories. — If we turn from the stage to its accessories, we find that they are of an extremely primitive character. Neither the flat nor the elevated stage, both open at the sides, admitted of any scenery in the modern sense, while the most crude apparatus readily suggested to an indulgent audience the required effect. A tub or cask answered innumerable purposes. It served for the throne of Lucifer, or perhaps for his own peculiar ollct Vulcani, the pot of torment wherein he was bound. 1 In the Alsf elder Spiel we read : — Omnes diaboli circuent doleuni corisando et cantando Lucifer in dem throne . . . In a thirteenth-century play we find St. Dorothea "sedens in dolio," and returning thanks to God that the boiling disposons les lieux et les demeures, a savoir : Premierement le crucifix, et puis apres le tombeau." There must be a gaol for the prisoners. "L'enfer sera mis d'un cote et les niaisons de l'autre, puis le ciel et les etoiles." Then follows the places of Caiaphas, Judas, Nicodemus, the Disciples, and the three Maries. The town of Galilee is to be in the middle of the stage, etc. 1 C, pp. 4, 14, etc.; B, vol. ii. pp. 19, 54, etc. On the boiling pots of hell— a common medieval notion — see B, vol. i. p. 294, vol. ii. pp. 27, 83, 285 ; Tic Eleven Pains of Hell, etc., in the Old English Miscellany (E.E.T.S.), pp. 148, 181 ; Dcs Tcufels russigcr Brvder (Grimm's Kindermarchen, Xo. 100). The damned are cooked and eaten b}^ the devils in the Egercr Spiel (F, p. 188). Mediaeval art occasionally depicted the hell-pots ; thus, in the Day of Judgment cut in the Schatzbehalter (Fig. 62), a soul is to be seen cooking in a pan ; also in the hell-fresco at the west end of Chahlon Church, Surrey, there is a large pot with many souls over a fire. ; A like notion occurs in Siam (see Alabastor, Wheel of the Loir). 324 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y oil cannot injure her. The same dolium inverted will serve for the pinnacle of the Temple, the Mount of Olives, or the rostrum from which the Conclusor may recite the epilogue of the drama. 1 In the Frankfurt play, however, the Mount of Olives was represented by "virides arbores in moduni orti" — an almost isolated attempt at scenery. 2 The thunder and earthquake which followed the crucifixion were represented by the firing of a gun. 3 The doors of hell must have been of a fairly substantial character — after the type of their original, the church door — for we hear of heavy bolts being drawn across them as Christ appeared. In some cases a devil was represented as placing his long nose in the bolt-hasps, only to have it promptly torn off as the triumphant Christ broke open the gates. 4 The cruci- fixion was somehow managed with the live actor, and, as a rule, the live Judas hanged himself, 5 although we hear in the Frankfurt play of an " imago facta ad instar Judas " 1 SeeL,p.291. In the Alsfclder Spiel we read: "Sathanas ducit eum ad doleum quod positum est in medio ludi representans pinnaculum templi " (C, p. 36). In the Frankfurter Spiel we find the stage-directions : " Deinde Sathanas ducat Jhesum super dolium quod positum sit in medio ludi, representans pinnaculum templi " ; and again : " Item Sathanas ducat Jhesum ad alium locum ludi super dolium representans montem excelsum " (S, p. 139). For the inverted tub of the Conclusor see B, vol. ii. p. 104. 2 S, p. 146. 3 K, pp. 61, 173 ; B, vol. ii. pp. 324, 339. 4 F, p. 284 ; C, p. 225 (where Lucifer first looks out per fenestrenn), etc. On the long-nosed devil Rapax see H, vol. ii. p. 70 ; and compare with Mathesius' Sermons, quoted in Flbgel, Geschichte cler Grotesk-Komischen, p. 239. He frequently appears in mediaeval art. The barring of the gates of hell is an incident in the Vision of Piers Ploughman. 3 Keal death was occasionally the result of these mock death-arrangements of the stage : "C'est ainsi que la chronique de Metz rapporte que le cure de Saint- Yictor de cette ville faillit perir en croix, dans un mystere de la Passion, ou il representait Jesus-Christ, et que l'acteur qui repre'sentait Judas s'e'trangla presque en se pendant " (Jubinal, Mysteres intdits, vol. i. p. 42). A like incident is re- ferred to in Platter's Autobiographic (ed. Fechter), p. 123. At Zuckmantel (see Y, p. 11) the Christ wore a tight-fitting, flesh-coloured linen garment, strong enough to support him on the cross, when the nails were driven through it. THE STAGE OF THE PASS10N-PLA Y 325 being hanged. The three crosses are frequently, and stocks for the two thieves 1 occasionally, mentioned ; the scourging pillar and a table for the banquets are also among the usual stage-accessories. Of the heavenly bodies sun and moon are referred to, but we are not told how they set at the crucifixion. 2 The ' Star in the East,' however, — one of the most interesting of mediaeval religious symbols — is a very important stage -accessory. The Stella aurea always precedes the Magi ; sometimes it is carried by one of their servants, sometimes by an angel, sometimes by Herod's chief captain, while not infrequently there is a special actor termed the Stellafer or Stemtrager* The star itself may be either a great painted mass of red and gold, and even blue, or it may be embroidered on a banner. In the pictures of the Hungarian peasant Christmas-plays given by Flogel (loc. cit.) the star is of the former kind, and the Stellafer, dressed in a blue blouse and top boots, is able to flash the star about by means of a gigantic pair of lazy-tongs. The mediaeval importance of the Star in the East arose from its associa- tion with the woman who, in the Book of Revelations (chap, xii.), is mentioned as having the moon under her feet. The Catholic Church has always interpreted this 1 B, vol. ii. pp. 156, 184. - C, p. 199 ; B, vol. ii. p. 324. 3 See I, p. 18. A wood-cut of the Fasciculus Temporum (Coin, 1480) also represents the star as carried by a servant of the Three Kings. It is an angel in K, p. 23. The Limoges ritual (Martene, loc. cit. Liber iv. cap. 14. § 12) has a stcllam pendente m in filo. In Silesia the lads at Christmas still go about in gold-paper crowns, with a great star carried on a pole (Q, p. 127), and the same custom exists in Upper Bavaria, e.g. Oberammergau (see R, pp. 51, 59, 109). The English clergy at the Council of Constance in 1417 gave a Nativity-play with a great gold star suspended from a line iron wire. Interesting information as to the costumes and accessories of eighteenth-century Magi-plays will be found in Flogel: Geschichte tier Grotcsk-Komischcn, p. 246. 326 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y passage as referring to the Virgin Mary, and mediaeval art constantly represented the Mother of God as seated upon a crescent with a crown of twelve stars. 1 Very early also in the history of the Latin Church the term Stella maris, star of the sea, was applied to the Virgin Mary ; and mediaeval writers invariably derive the name Maria from maris stellar At what time these three con- ceptions — the Star of the East, the Woman standing on the Crescent, and the stella maris — became associated and identified I am unable to say definitely ; but to the writers, and presumably to the spectators, of the great passion-plays they were interchangeable symbols. The Magi in the Egerer Spiel 3 describe the star they 1 For a graphic representation we may refer to the title - page to Diirer's Marienbilder. In a fifteenth-century Metz MS. Home, once in my hands, one miniature represented the Virgin, with the infant Saviour in her arms, standing on a crescent and surrounded by a glory. This is the representation on the collar of the papal robes. The crescent with a star — the stella maris — occurs on the banner carried by one of the attendants in Martin Schongauer's Adoration of the Magi. La Resurrection cle notre Seigneur (Jubinal, loc. cit. vol. ii. p. 352) discusses at some length, in the dialogue of the play itself, the significance of the estoiU> de mer. The splendid description of the woman on the crescent seen by Benvenuto Cellini in his well-known vision will occur to readers of his autobiography. 2 The derivation occurs in the writings of Jerome and Isidore (see Miillenhoff und Scherer, Denkmaler, pp. 375, 435). Compare the Arnsteiner Marienleich, Melker Marienlied, and several sequences in the Denkmaler, pp. 109-125. Also Hroswitha, ed. Barak, pp. 16, 17; Herrad von Landsberg, ed. Engelhardt, p. 124 ; further Fortunatus's hymn, Ave stella maris, as well as innumerable Latin hymns to the Virgin; see also W. Grimm, K<>iiref and horeling, scolde, of wreekedome he is king." :; K, p. 117, vide infra. 4 H, vol. ii. p. 17. Lucifer and his comrades put on Teufelskleider before their fifrht with the angels. THE COSTUME OF THE PASSION-PLAY 331 nackent"). 1 We may note that the artists of the Middle Ages seem to have been somewhat puzzled to know how 1 1 1 represent spirits and souls. Yet such a representation was very necessary for the passion-plays, where not only many souls had to he fetched away by angel or devil as the pointed moral of a good or bad life, but the Day of Judg- ment itself had to be put plastically before the audience. When the souls had to walk and talk they were repre- sented by persons dressed in white shirts,- but when this was not necessary a more symbolic method was adopted. A common device was a suitable bird let fly at the right moment ; a white dove would symbolise the soul of Christ, 3 and a raven that of Judas. 4 Still another very customary method was to take a little naked figure away from the dying man ; this figure was general] v held by a thread from his mouth, by which organ the soul was always supposed to leave the body. It was thus that the souls of the two thieves were represented in the Donaueschingen play," and it found great favour with the artists,' 3 for example, in the last cut of the 1 B, vol. ii. p. 342 ; H, vol. ii. p. 72 ; and compare the Schatzbehaltcr, Cut "P. Adam and Eve were naked in the Chester Plays (p. 25) and in the Coventry Mysteries (p. 27). The stage-directions include stabunt rvudi and the covering genitalia sua cum foliis. Marriott cites the following from The Travail*, - of th three English Brothers, published in 1607 : — Sir Anthony Shirley. And what new plays have you? Kempe. Many idle toyes, but the old play that Adam and Eve acted in bare action vnder the figge tree drawes most of the gentlemen. 2 The soul in the " Morality of Wisdom who is Christ " (Digby Plays, p. 140' is dressed " as a mayde in a whight cloth of gold, gyntely purfyled with menyver, a mantyll of blak, therupon a cheveler lyke to wysdam, with a riche chapetelet laayed behynde, hangying down with ii knottes of gold and syde tasselys." 3 D, p. 68 ; and F, p. 253. 4 B, vol. ii. p. 284. The souls of criminals appear as crows in Pie beid.cn Jl'"nderer (Grimm, Kindermdrchen, Xo. 107). 5 B, vol. ii. p. 324. 6 Compare also, in the Luther-Cranach Abbildung des Bapstums, the devils re- moving the souls of pope and cardinals who hang on the gallows ; or again tin- 332 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y famous Ars Moriendi block -book, where the angel carries off the soul of the dying man. The reader who will consider the mediaeval notions of hell and the soul as illustrated in the passion-play, will recognise how much the mediaeval spirit added to primitive Chris- tianity, and how much of that addition has remained current in folk-belief even to the present day. To the costumes already given we may add that of Mary Magdalen — who, while in gaudio, is gaily be- decked with trinkets, and appears superbo habitu — and of John the Baptist, who is very meanly clad in a skin. Indeed, so meanly is John clad that the devil Tuteville tries to keep him in hell, considering that Christ could not possibly want to rescue such a miserably clad person. 1 This is all the material I have been able to find in the earlier plays bearing on costume. A good many details of stage and wardrobe expenses in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries are given by Hartmann (T, pp. 404, 426, etc.) The painting and dyeing of Teufelskleider seems to have been a relatively large item. A few costumes from more recent peasant plays — doubtless traditional in their naivete — may interest the reader. Mary appears in an old-fashioned blue picture at Prag by Holbein tbe Elder (Woltmann, Holbein, p. 82). In the famous Triumph of Death, in the Camposanto at Pisa, angels and devils are lighting for souls represented by little children. Angels and devils remove little naked figures from the mouths of the dying in the curious drawings of the Heidelberg MS. (No. 438) (see Geffcken, Bildcrcatechismus, Appendix, col. 15). St. Michael and the Devil fighting for a like soul issuing from the mouth of a corpse occurs in a French Home known to me. Upon the buttress of the west porch of Rheims Cathedral the souls of the martyrs appear as naked and sexless little children. The soul of St. Martin on a window at Chartres, and that of St. Galminius on one at Mauzac, are represented by naked infants. The souls of the blessed are thus represented in the hands of God (see Didron, Iconographie chrttienne, pp. 124, 134, 210, 243). 1 C, p. 55 ; J, p. 98 ; I, p. 117 ; B, vol. ii. p. 56 ; and compare S, p. 142. THE COSTUME OE THE PASSION-PLAY 333 dress, with white apron, cap, and long veil. She carries a wooden or wax doll. The shepherds wear green knee-breeches, with rose ribbons, green braces, and white stockings, and carry a crook adorned with rib- bons. 1 A prophet is smartly clad in silk-hat, spectacles, frockcoat, and white stockings reaching to the knee. He carries a telescope in his hand, apparently as a symbol of the range of his vision, 2 etc. Much more detailed information as to costume may be found in the English plays. The character of the ward- robe may be indicated by a few extracts. In the Coventry Mysteries (p. 224) we find Annas dressed as a ' bischop ' of the old law in a scarlet gown, and over that a blue tabberd furred with white, and a mitre on his head 'after the old law.' Two doctors stand beside him with furred hoods, and one before him with his staff of state, and each of them on their heads a furred cap with a great knob on the crown, and " one standing before him as a Saracen, the which shall be his mes- senger." From the accounts of the Guild of Smiths at Coventry published in part by Marriott, I extract the following items : Cross with a rope to draw it up ; gilding the pillar and cross ; two pair of gallows ; four scourges ; standard of red buckram ; four jackets of black buckram with nails and dice upon them for tor- mentors ; God's coat of white leather, six skins ; a staff for the demon ; crest of iron and falchion for Herod ; cheverels (wigs) for God, Jesus, and Peter, the latter two gilt ; a girdle for God ; a sudere or sweat- cloth for the Veronica incident. In the Chester plays 1 Q, pp. 113, 125. - R, p. 116. 334 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y we find that the Holy Ghost was a source of consider- able expense. Thus we have : — Itm payd to the sprytt of god .... 14d. ,, for the spret of god's cote . . .2s. „ for the making of the same cote . 8d. ,, for ii yardes and halfe of bockram to make the spyrit's cote . . . 2s. Id. VI. — Characterisation in the Passion- Plays Having endeavoured to present the reader with a o;eneral view of the stao-e and its accessories, I have next to indicate how character was dealt with in the mediaeval drama. A student of the passion-plays may at first feel inclined to deny all characterisation in the roles, and in a certain sense he will be right. Those who seek for character as we paint it to-day — the mixed motives, the opposing emotions, the scarce distinguishable shades of good and evil impulse to be found even in the most commonplace mortals — will discover no trace of it in the passion-play. There is not the feeblest germ of a Hamlet nor the suggestion of a Faust. The knowledge that there is no wide gulf fixed between good and evil, between strength and weakness, between morality and immorality, could only be attained by an age of critical introspection, which examined motives rather than deeds ; it had not dawned on the mind of mediaeval man. His morality was like his religion, one of works and formal observance. 1 Thus, as in the modern melodrama. 1 These terms are used in no bad sense ; much of the morality which is of most social value must always be of this kind, only alternately we find the deed and the motive, the law and the spirit, the Pharisee and the Kazarene, under or overrated. CHARACTERISA 1 "ION IN THE PASSION-PLA V 335 we can assert of a passion - play character what the nursery rhyme tells us of the child, that — When it was good, it was very, very good, And when it was had, it was horrid. To distinguish between good and evil was to the man of the Middle Ages no hard task. All deeds and all beliefs were already classified in a rigid code, and obedience or disobedience to this code constituted goodness or bad- ness. This point must always be borne in mind when w T e consider the readiness with which mediaeval man con- demned his opponents to eternal damnation. 1 He felt as certain in his judgment of what was good and evil as he considered the great Judge would be at the time of the catastrophe with which he concluded the great world- drama. He left no place for individual thought or indi- vidual conduct ; each man must think and act as his fellows, and for a time society undoubtedly prospered under this strict socialism. With such a view of life no growth of character seems possible. Christ and the Virgin are so very good and pure, Satan, Judas, and Pilate so very wicked, that all finer shades of character- isation disappear, and, from the standpoint of the higher drama of to-day, we have parts but no characters. There is another distinction also between the modern and the mediaeval dramas to which we have already drawn attention, namely, the actor of to-day renders Lis 1 Thus in the Alsfdder Spiel (C, p. 36) Satan comes to tempt Christ in the garb of a Lollard. In the Townley Mystery, E.dractio Animarum, the devil Tutivillits says he is now ' Master Lollar. ' The same devil occurs in more than one German play, and there is here again evidence of that cosmopolitan element in the plays to which I have before referred. 336 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y character by a more or less subtle combination of gesture, speech, and motion ; the playwright of the Middle Ages entrusted little but speech to his actors. He endeavoured by means of symbolism to arouse the appropriate feel- ings in his audience. To appreciate the extent to which symbolism was a factor of both social and religious life in the Middle Ages is one of the hardest tasks to the modern mind — harder, perhaps, to the cultured than to the uncultured. Yet a comparative study of civilisa- tion shows a stage in which symbolism is widely current in the majority of highly developed religions. To the student of Buddhism nothing is more repellent at the outset of his studies than the lists of truths, paths, fetters, sins, and suchlike ; it is only as he strives to penetrate beneath the numerical form that he reaches the ideas symbolised, and finds each catalogue pregnant with meaning. Precisely the same phase of symbolism meets us in our study of mediae valism. 1 The Hours, the Stations, the Seven Words on the Cross, the Ghostly and Bodily Works of Mercy, the Deadly Sins, these and many other categories, which hardly reach the heart of the modern reader, w T ere yet symbols very close in both life and death to the heart of mediaeval man. So close, indeed, that they could not be omitted from the great Christian drama. It did not weary him to hear the whole catalogue of the Acts of Mercy recited during the 1 I have collected upwards of twenty such numerical lists from fifteenth - century confessional books. They range from the Seven Works of Ghostly Mercy to the Four Sins which cry out to Heaven for Vengeance. Avery fair appreciation of this spirit of enumeration may be obtained from the Pcaitentionarius de Confes- sione (Hain, 13156-13166), or indeed from Wyclif's sermons. The special folk- need which gave rise to this common feature of mediaeval Buddhism and mediaeval Christianity is of singular interest. CHARACTERISA T10N IN THE PASSION-PLA 1 ' 337 stage representation of the Day of Judgment ; J nor did he find any anachronism in the Virgin Mother proceed- ing to the Stations.' 2 These symbols from his childhood onwards were deeply significant to the Christian of the Middle Ages ; and unless we grasp something of his feeling towards them, we shall miss much of the power of the religious drama, just as Ave shall fail to appreciate many shades of mediaeval thought even in the sermons of Wyclif and Tauler. But to this ecclesiastical symbolism, designed to arouse by association certain deep religious feelings, we find added in the passion-plays a peculiar folk-symbolism intended to work upon other emotions, and often doing- it in a manner which grossly offends the less robust taste of modern times. Both types of symbolism exer- cised a noteworthy influence over pictorial art. One action by which the mediseval playwright succeeded in expressing symbolically an almost endless variety of moods was the dance. The dance could be rendered symbolical of holy or of fiendish joy, of insult, of horror, or of wantonness. Foremost among such sym- bolic dances we may notice the Dance of Angels and the Dance of Devils — both in a certain sense religious dances. Of such corybantic symbols the faith that came from 1 The recital of the Seven Acts of Mercy by Christ on the Day of Judgment is traditional so far as the religious drama is concerned. Besides the German plays, I may refer to Total, y Mysteries, pp. 316-318. See also the Old English Miscel- lany, E.E.T.S., p. 81 ; and the Manuel d'Iconographie chrSiienne, p. 277. In the Coventry Mysteries (p. 82) the Virgin, when three years old, repeats in the Temple the Fifteen Psalms — a miraculous repetition of another mediaeval category, which naturally astonishes the Episcopus. - See A, pp. 45 et seq., p. 186. Erasmus satirises a like anachronism by a discussion between the monks as to which book of Hours the Virgin used (see also B, vol. ii. p. 285 ; H, p. 110). VOL. II Z 33* THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y Judea knew nothing, but they were striking features of the folk-festivals of the old Germanic worship. Their appearance in the passion-plays is but another sign of the victory of the Western folk-spirit over the invading but alien religion of the East. As we have seen in the previous essay, at an early stage of development the sex- festival is associated with the religious festival, and both with the dance. A robust primitive people finds its supreme bliss in rhythmic motion. For such heaven is but a great dancing-green, and all the gods are nimble of foot. Long after Christianity had established itself in Germany, the old heathen religious dances continued ; even after the folk had forgotten the very names of its ancient gods it danced on high festivals round the cock, the horse's head, or the sacred tree. 1 On the one hand we have the people, who regarded the dance as a symbol of the highest religious ecstasy ; on the other hand we have the missionaries and monks, who, branding it as devilish, allowed their fancy to master their curiosity ; so that the old corybantic rites which occasionally took place at midnight in sequestered spots appeared to mediaeval superstition as the wildest of bacchanals, in which only devils, hobgoblins, and hags took any part. Thus when the folk-spirit made the religious drama its own we need not be surprised to find the dance on the 1 See Mamihardt, Dcr Baumkultus, under heading Tanz ; J. Grimm, Deutsche Mythologic, Hexxnfahrt, pp. 877 et seq. Herodias and her daughter — types of the sinful dancer — are in the plays {e.g. C, p. 34) carried off to hell hy a wild chorus of devils. They it is who in mediaeval superstition lead the midnight revels of devil and witch ; see the Malleus maleficarum, ed. 1494, fol. 1. Interesting con- fessions bearing on the actual character of witch dances will be found in Birlingcr, Aus Schwaben, 1874, Bd. i. pp. 131 et scq.; and in Niehues, Zur Geschichtc der Hcxenprocesse in Minister. CHARACTERISATION IN THE PASSION-PLAY 339 one hand symbolising the highest bliss of heaven, and on the other the fiendish delight of hell. Heaven as a dancing-hall and hell with the characteristics of a mid- night witch-gathering find a common origin in the old choral religious festival to which I have referred in earlier essays. 1 In a play of the Day of Judgment published by Mone, 2 we have a highly sensuous description of heaven as a place of laughing, kissing, song, and music. In a fourteenth-century Himmelfahrt Maria, Christ, after addressing the Virgin in the language of the Song of Songs, bids all the angels stand up and dance with her. The archano-el Michael offers his hand to the Mother of God, and leads oft* down the heavenly green : 3 et sic omnes chorizant, angeli cantant ad laudem dei. In a Weilinachtslied from Upper Bavaria, which is probably a fragment of an old Three Kings play, we have again reference to this Dance of Angels, for we read : 4 — D'Engai miiassent narisch sei~: Sic toant so lustig umatanzen. Of greater interest for the history of culture than the heavenly dancing is the hellish dancing. I have already noted that the devils dance round Lucifer's tub in hell. But the characteristic Dance of Devils is that which leads to earth and back again in wild procession with the souls of men. It is thus that the devils carry off the foolish virgins in the Ludus de decern Virginibus:' We must thus imagine them in the plays of the Day of 1 See Essays IX. and XI. 2 B, vol. i. p. 287. 3 A, p. 87. 4 R, No. 55, p. 75. 5 Beclisteiu, Wartburg Bibliothck, Bd. i. p. 25. 340 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y Judgment, decked in all the horrible forms of mediaeval fancy, dancing, singing, and dragging by the chain passed round it the crowd of the damned back to hell. 1 In the mediaeval believer there must have been an intensity of hysterical emotion raised by this Dance of Devils, which it was almost imperative to relieve by some comic by- play. Still more effective than the damned in mass must have been the dance in which each devil brought an individual soul, and narrated the sin which condemned it to hell.' 2 In many plays we have a long procession of such souls. The robber, the baker, the false coiner, the rake, the tanner, the lawyer, the old woman with her evil tongue, follow each other in rapid succession ; such soul-lists cast much light on the state of popular feel- ing in the Middle Ages. In one case Satan brings a priest who has been thinking of temporal matters while reading- mass, but this " regular old-run-rouncl-the-altar," as Satan terms him, makes hell too hot for Lucifer, and he accordingly is allowed to escape. 3 1 Compare lleister Stephen's Last Judgment (Cologne Gallery, No. 121 ; repro- duced in the frontispiece) ; a tympanum on the Niirnberg Sebaldskzrche, and another over the south-east porch of the Minster at Dim, with B, vol. i. pp. 274, 280, 295 ; I, Xo. iv. pp. 98, 306 ; H, vol. i. p. 143 ; and Piderit, he. eit. line 763 ("das se kumen an vns seile"). We may further note the woodcuts in Diirer's Small Passion (last cut), and in the Heidelberg block-book reproduced by Geffcken, Bildercatechismus, Bcilage, col. 13. Besides Stephan Lochner, the Ars Moricndi, Diirer, etc., we may draw attention to Martin Schongauer's engrav- ing of the Temptation of St. Antony, and Gerhard David's Battle of St. Michael with Hell, as capital representations of what the passion-play devils were like. 2 See B, vol. ii. p. 81 and footnote. The novas choreas therein referred to stands, I hold, for the new forms of dancing introduced about 1400, in which the partners instead of dancing in figures began to clasp each other by the arms or even the waist. This much scandalised both town-councils and ecclesiastics, as will be seen from an examination of the Frankfurt and Niirnberg Police Regulations or a study of mediaeval sermons. See further I, p. 99, and H, vol. ii. pp. 37, 281, U, pp. 85 et scq. In Kriiger's play the Dance of Devils is accompanied by witches. 3 See B, vol. ii. pp. 74, 82, 96, etc. CHA RA C TERISA TION IN THE PA SSION-PLA V 341 The only other souls which Lucifer will not receive into hell are those of the strolling scholars, and this because he fears they might corrupt the morals of his mother. The recurrence of such strolling-scholar inci- dents in the passion-plays is fairly strong evidence of those scholars' handiwork in their construction. 1 One of the most interesting lists of souls is that which occurs in a fourteenth-century Kesurrection Play, wherein Lucifer sends out Satan to fetch in succession the Pope, the Cardinal, the Patriarch, the Legate, the Emperor, the King, the Prince, the Count, the Knight, the Squire, the Justice, the Counsellor, the Priest, the Monk, the Innkeeper," the Miller, the Shipman, the Fiddler, with many other traders and handicraftsmen. 3 The resemblance to the later Dance of Death lists is undeniable, and the relation becomes all the more sigmi- ficant when we remember that in the mediaeval plays Death was placed with the devils in hell or appears as an associate of Lucifer on earth. 4 1 See I, pp. 102, 103 ; F, p. 288. For the brilliant immorality of these scholars see, besides the references in the footnote on p. 304, S, pp. 203-208. 2 The innkeeper or 'taverner,' male or female, met with small mercy at the hands of the medieval playwright. Besides the unfriendly innkeepers of Bethlehem, and of the "soul-lists," we find in the Chester Plays (p. 81) at the harrowing of hell a mulier or 'taverner' left behind, who, when on earth, had mixed wines and adulterated beer. She remains to burn With all mashers, minglers of wyne in the nighte. This may be taken as a derivation — at least ben trovato — of a modern word. 3 See A, p. 118. In the Townley Mysteries, pp. 312, 314, will be found a long and interesting list of persons whom the devils mean to have in hell. Samples of the highest ecclesiastics are always to be found in hell, e.g. Chester Plays, p. 183 ; Herrad von Landsberg's Hortus Deliciarum, 1180 ; Meister Stephan's Last Judgment, circa 1450 (see the frontispiece), and the cuts of Quentel's Kolner Bibel, 1480. 4 Cf. H, vol. ii. pp. 68 ct seq. ; C, pp. 67, 68, with direct reference to the Dance of Death ; K, p. 90 ; B, vol. ii. p. 419 ; T, p. 400. The reader may also compare Durer's Bitter, Tod and Tenfel, and the Gospel of Xicodemus, xvii. 1. 342 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y In Scliedel's Bach der Croniken, 1493, p. 261, a grimly powerful dance of three deaths with their musician is brought into relation with the Day of Judgment. Thus we have another link connecting the Dance of Devils with the Dance of Death. It seems probable that the pictorial Dances of Death took their origin in the spectacular Dance of Devils which occurred in the hell scenes of the religious dramas. 1 Nor does it appear far- fetched to hold that the wood-cutters took their concep- tion of the Knaveries — sets of pictures representing the scamps and sinners of the world — from the same source. Indeed the plays here, as elsewhere, presented the richest material ready to the artist's hand. Other symbolic dances to which we may briefly refer are those of the Ritter appointed to guard the sepulchre, and of Mary Magdalen in gaudio. The Ritter, or Knights, represent the Roman soldiers who receive instructions from Pilate to keep watch and ward In the earliest Germanic times, Death was undoubtedly thought of as a woman (a Valkyrie like Homer's 6X077 K770) : see p. 175. Perhaps the eai'liest known representation of Death is that in the Leofric Missal (Warren, p. 45), where he is drawn as a devil, not as a skeleton. Death appeared till quite recently among the dramatis personae of a travelling Obersteiern company. In their Spiel vomgwtem Hirten he dances off with a shepherdess, and thoroughly mediaeval Dance of Death verses are put into the mouths of both. In this case also Death is associated with the Devil : see Q, pp. 329, 331, 355, 359. 1 Woltmann {Holbein, chap, xi., Todesbilder unci Todtentdnzc, p. 249) holds that the Dances of Death were first acted, and that, as in the case of the passion -incidents, the painter followed the actor. Wackernagel, Geschichte der deutschen Literatur, p. 396, places the Dances of Death under Geistliche Spielc. At the same time it must be noted that while the first ' soul-list ' occurs in a play of which the manuscript dates from the second half of the fourteenth century, the Klingcnthaler Todtentanz (see vol. i. Essay I.) dates from 1312. Cf. Massmann, Die Baseler Todtentdnze, p. 36. The typical knaves in the block- book, Die aeht Schalkheiten, from the middle of the fifteenth century, nearly all occur in the ' soul-lists ' of the various plays. For the study of the question Pfister's edition of Rechtstreit des Mcnschcn mil dem Todc (circa 1460) contains woodcuts of primary historical importance. CHARACTERISATION IN THE PASSION-PLAY 343 over the sepulchre. 1 They dance to the sepulchre, and then dance round it singing. The idea which the dancing is intended to convey appears to be that of contempt. In much the same manner, in a Dispute between Mary and the Cross, the Jews are represented as dancing round the Virgin by tens and twelves in order to mock her as she weeps at the foot of the cross." Mary Magdalen expresses her wantonness by dancing ; in the Digby Mysteries the dance with a dandy leads to her seduction ; in the Alsfelder Play she heads a regular Devils' Dance, being assisted by Lucifer cum aliis demonibus ; in another play, the Ludus Mariae Magda- lene in gaudio, we have a very effective choral dance of the Magdalen and Procus, one of her lovers. 3 Of a similar character is the dance of a shepherdess with a hunter, and with devils in an Obersteiern play per- formed till a quite recent date. 4 The foolish virgins in the Ludus de d '<'<■>' m Virginibus also express their folly by feasting and dancing as the following stage- directions indicate: 5 Tunc omnes fatuae habeant convivium, deponant seque dormiant, and Tunc fatuae corizando et cum magno gaudio vadunt ad alium locum. It will be seen from the above — by no means exhaus- tive — list of instances how widely dancing was used in the passion-play as a symbol of character. (i 1 L, vol. ii. p. 302. 2 Legends of the Holy Rood, E.E.T.S., p. 142. In the Coventry Mysteries (p. 319) the Jews dance round the cross before it is raised. 3 See C, p. 55 ; I, p. 112 ; and B, vol. i. p. 80. 4 See Q, p. 343. 3 Bechstein, Wartburg Libliothck; vol. i. p. 18. ,; In a WeihnacTUsspiel from the fifteenth century (ed. Piderit, 1S69), Mary employs Joseph to rock the cradle. He gets a knave to help him ct sic si rvus et Joseph corisant per cunabulwn cantando 'In dulci juMlo.' There is afterwards 344 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y Another phase of symbolism in the mediaeval drama has already been briefly referred to (p. 262), namely, the extravagant brutality displayed by the Jewish per- secutors of Jesus. The character thus thrust on the whole Jewish nation was but slightly a result of reli- gious feeling — it was more, perhaps, the outcome of racial antipathy — but, in the chief place, its origin must undoubtedly be sought, like that of the modern German Judenhetze, in economic conditions. The Jew of the Middle Ages was the successful middleman and the economically necessary but widely hated money-lender. He was known only to be feared by both townsman and peasant. 1 Thus to exaggerate the Jewish cruelty a dance of the nursemaids employed by Joseph with Arnold and Gulrich the inn- keepers. In the Digby Mysteries (ed. Furnival, p. 164) we find Will and Under- standing getting up a dance with Indignation, Malice, Discord, etc., and Mind says this is the "develys daunce." 1 Perhaps the best expression of the bitter unreasoning hatred of the medi- aeval German for the Jew will be found in Luther's Von den Ji'tden und jren Liigen, Wittemberg, 1543. Luther, after attributing to the Jews every evil quality and all possible vices, comes to the kernel of the matter when he touches the economic side. He writes : — Ja wohl, sie halten uns Christen in miserm eigen Lande gefangen ; sie lassen uns arbeiten im Nasenschweiss, Geld und Gut gewiiinen, sitzen dieweil hinter deni Ofen, faulenzen, pompeii und braten Birn, fresseu, saufen, leben sanft und wohl von unserm erarbeiteten Gut ; haben uns und miser Giiter gefangen durch ihren ver- fluchten Wucher, spotten dazu und speien uns an, dass wir arbeiten, und sie faule Junker lassen sein von dem Unserm und in deni Unserm ; sind also unsere Herrn, wir ihre Knechte mit unserm eigen Gut, Schweiss und Arbeit, fluchen darnach unserm Herrn, und uns zu Lohn und zu Dank. As remedy, Luther suggests to the princes — (i. ) To set fire to their syna- gogues and schools, and cover with earth what will not burn ; (ii.) to break into and destroy their houses ; (iii. ) to deprive them of prayer-books and Talmuds ; (iv.) to prohibit their Rabbis teaching ; (v.) the abolition of all safe-conduct for Jews upon the highways ; (vi. ) to forbid usury and deprive the Jews of all their money, gold and silver ornaments ; (vii.) to put into the hands of strong young Jews the spade and of Jewesses the spinning-wheel, and let them earn their bread in the sweat of their brow. "But, siimma, my lords and princes who have Jewish subjects, if you do not follow my counsel, take a better, that you and we may be freed of all the unsufferable, devilish burden of the Jews." Such is hardly even an average sample of Luther's abuse, yet it will suffice to illustrate the feeling manifested in the passion-plays under a different form. CHARACTER1SA TION IN THE PASSION-PLA V 345 to Jesus was a means of carrying away the sympathies of his audience which even the religious playwright did not despise. Historically, we have no reason for supposing that the masses in Jerusalem were singularly hostile to either the person or teaching of the car- penter's son. The opposition largely arose from the privileged classes, the priests, the educated, the wealthy members of the community ; they were closely touched by his contempt for the study of the law and by his undoubted] v communistic teaching. To some extent the priests may have rewon the popular ear, but it is scarcely credible that the whole population were eager to scoff and torture the very man whom shortly before they had accompanied in a veritable triumph into the city. The scarlet robe and the crown of thorns were due, not to the Jews, but to the Roman soldiers ; the scourging seems to have been inflicted to excite pity, while the wine mingled with myrrh was given as a soporific. 1 In the passion-plays, however, there is no brutality so great that it cannot be placed to the credit of the Jewish mob ; the tortures of the gospel narrative are increased a hundredfold, in order not so much to excite pity for the victim as to fan the popular hatred of the Jewish race. Thus Barabbas is no sooner released from the ' stocks ' than he hastens to insult Christ. 2 Malchus, showing no gratitude for the recovery of his ear, is foremost among the tormentors. 3 The Jews are represented as gathering round Jesus full of the most venomous hate, and as taking pleasure in the 1 Compare Smith's Dictionary of the Bible, under Crucifixion, and Strauss, Lebcn Jcsu, pp. 574, 578. - B, vol. ii. pp. 297, 298. ;! B, vol. ii. pp. 298, 299 ; Jubinal, Mystires inedits, vol. ii. p. 190, etc. 346 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y discovery of excruciating tortures. The nails used at the crucifixion must be blunt, the holes drilled in the cross must be too far apart, so that a rope is needed to stretch the sufferer's frame. 1 Nor were the artists one whit behind the play- wrights. The faces of the torturers in a mediseval woodcut or painting are such as we associate with the vilest dregs of society. In the pictures we have no difficulty in recognising the murderer Barabbas and the ingrate Malchus of the passion-plays. Even the passion scenes of Durer, Holbein, and Cranach are studies in criminal physiognomy.' 2 As I have already pointed out, what the mediaeval man thought ill of, that he painted in the blackest colours. Thus Judas must have com- mitted parricide as well as incest in the ' kingdom of Scharyot,' while Pilate's crimes from his youth upwards were of the most abominable character. 3 Once or twice the real source of the feeling in the plays and pictures comes more nearly to expression, as when the Concluso?', at the end of the second day of the Eg ever Spiel, calls upon princes and nobles to remember that the Jews, whom they now favour, belong to the race who tortured J D, p. 63 ; F, p. 211 ; K, p. 53 ; Tow nicy Mysteries, pp. 219, 220, and gener- ally the Coliphizacio and Flagcllacio, Coventry Mysteries, p. 319 ; Chester Mysteries, pp. 36, 58. 2 See, for example, Dtirer's two woodcut passions ; Cranach's Passional Christi ct Antichristi (Cut 3), and his illustrations to Luther's Bible ; Woltmanifs Holbein, pp. 53, 132, 133 ; and compare these with F, pp. 168, 176, 198, 199 ; E. p. 181 ; B, vol. ii. p. 275, etc. ; K, pp. 41, 42 ; D, pp. 33, 62. Perhaps the most curious exhibition of the feeling I have come across was in the Paznauner Thai twelve years ago, where I found a torture-scene by the wayside with the Christ a diminutive man and the Jewish torturers horrible giants of the Gog and Magog type. The design at least appeared very antique. 3 Compare inter alia as to Judas, K, p. 69 ; Townlcy Mysteries, Suspensio Juclae, p. 328; and as to Pilate, Massmanu, Deutsche Gcdichte des 12 ,en Jahrh., p. 145. Fig. 4. — Medleval Conception of Jewish Brutality. The Scourging from Albrecht Diirer's Greater Passion. CHARACTERISATION IN THE PASSION-PLAY 349 Christ, and are therefore worthy of the bitterest hatred. With such character sketching in mass, as I have indicated above, it will be evident to the reader that all the finer individualisation which we now understand by the term must perforce be absent. It will not, how- ever, be out of place to describe briefly the mediaeval con- ceptions of the chief personages of the plays ; for, with one exception, the notions then current of these per- sonages differed widely from what are held to-day. This one exception is the central figure of the drama. While the Saxons of the ninth century had a Christ of their own, while the German mystics had a Christ of their own, while even pictorial art after Diirer had an indi- vidual Christ, it is still almost impossible to speak of a Christ of the passion-plays. All the individuality this Christ possessed was that of the not entirely consistent sketch presented by the gospel originals. We lack almost completely the warmth and unity which mediaeval art gave to other personages of its drama. The Christ was possibly too sacred to be touched ; he remained Eastern among the mediaeval versions of his contemporaries, and his character was never thoroughly remodelled, like his features, on Western lines. The utterances of the passion-play Jesus are merely rhymed paraphrases of the words used by the Evangelists, and if they are occasionally effective, it arises from their original beauty and simplicity, which is not wholly incongruous even in its new Western setting. It is quite otherwise with the character of the Virgin. Here we find much more originality, even after we have set on one side all that was drawn from 35o THE GERMAN PASSION-PLAY the apocryphal gospels. 1 The reader, who has examined the earlier studies in this volume, can hardly fail to have been impressed with the important part played among the primitive Germans by the mother-goddess. She is the goddess of fertility in man, in beast, and in the soil. She is the goddess of birth and .of death. Her symbols are the spindle and the pitchfork, the ripe fruit and the protecting mantle. All the rich wealth of ideas which the primitive German associated with his ancient goddesses, he ultimately distributed over the Christian pantheon ; many fell to the lot of local saints, others went to enrich his demonology, but not a few attached themselves to the person of the Virgin ; and, under Western influence, she remains no longer the mere gospel outline of the mother of Christ, she attains all the richness of colour which is characteristic of a primitive mother-goddess. She becomes a centre of sex- emotion, and a symbol of archaic race feeling. She becomes a goddess of childbirth ; with the ears of corn in her hand she stands as the deity of agricultures- springs and meadows are consecrated to her, the flowers receive her name, and mankind flies for refuge under her mantle. 3 She is the goddess of life and death. Her gifts are the loaf which never comes to an end, or her own breast whence the divine wisdom may be 1 Particularly the Pseudo-Mathcw and Protcrangelion of James. 2 She fills all the barns with wheat ; her three ears of corn sprout miracu- lously through the snow ; her image can be found in every ear of wheat. She and her child are seen in the corn-field, or her image is found to have been de- posited where the corn grows luxuriantly. 3 On a misericord on the north side of Gayton Church, Northamptonshire, will be found a fifteenth-century carving of the Virgin with her mantle of grace round a number of nude figures representing souls. The protecting mantle will be found with many saints having in part heathen attributes, e.g. St. Ursula, St. Felicitas, St. Symphorosa, etc. CHARACTERISATION IX THE PASSION-PLAY 351 sucked. 1 The mediaeval Virgin is, in short, the folk-vindi- cation of its right to a goddess of its own ethnic type. It is true that devotional and catechetical works drew a line — albeit occasionally somewhat faint — be- tween the power of the Trinity and the power of the Virgin." Yet for the great mass of the folk mediaeval Christianity presented all the good and all the bad qualities of a polytheism. The Virgin was to the common folk, who were ignorant of scholastic subtleties, a divine being, and no amount of citation from doctrinal treatises can invalidate this conclusion. Nor should we, as students of comparative religion, seek forced reasons for denying it. Mariolatry has, on the whole, been a bene- ficial factor in European civilisation. It appealed to one of the noblest emotions in man ; and it may well be doubted whether the women of to-day would have advanced so far as they have done, had not the worship of a goddess, prepotent in religious feeling, in art, and in the drama, come to help them, however little realised, in their struggle. When the folk heard the Virgin addressed as ' Queen of Heaven ' and ' Mother of all Mercy,' 3 when they saw her in woodcut and 1 In tins respect the Virgin closely resembles the Indian Maya. She will lie (bund represented as squeezing her breasts in several editions of the Hortulus Animac, or as offering them to Bernard of Clairvaux, Dominic, and other saints in pictures and prints. 2 What can be said on this point — and it is not convincing — has been said by J. Janssen (An mcine Kritiker, 1882, pp. 36-41). :; Cf. " Heuene quene and hell Emperesse" (Legends of Holy Hood, E.E.T.S., \>[>. 147, 211, etc.) We find some very strong expressions used of the Virgin even as early as the Xpicrrbs ird C - ( J- TrdyKKvre, TrayKaWiara Kovp-q irapdeve (1. 598), 5 woTva Kovpv, cre/xvordra irapdeve (1. 646), Aecnroiva ir ay Koi pave, fiyrep too Aoyov (1. 998). The deoroKos in the same play emphasises strongly her own purity, while in the epilogue of the author there is a strong element of Mario- latry (e.g. 11. 2572 ct scq., 11. 2597 ct seq.) even to the regina cclorum—wavrdvaaca. See also Lehner, Die Marienv&rehrung in den ersten Jahrhunderten, 1881. 352 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLAY picture placed on a level with the Son, or crowned by the Trinity (e.g. Diirer's Maria Himmelfahrt), they did not stay to inquire into fine dogmatic distinctions. The folk-literature teems with proof of this. What might possibly have been highly imaginative allegory in the Minnesingers' verbose adoration, became an ex- pression of unqualified folk - belief in the mouths of the Mastersingers. Such divine attributes as eternal existence, creative power, dispensation of mercy, sove- reignty over hell, and the divine title to the worship of animate and inanimate nature are all associated with the Virgin. A few extracts from a fourteenth-century Meistersong will help to emphasise her real position in folk-belief. " She is with them (i.e. the three persons of the Trinity) one Godhead bright." King David saw her " standing by God in golden robes and passing in and out of the Godhead, even before she was born as the Virgin. Who can be mispleased that she is so gloriously united with God ? " Later the Virgin herself is introduced saying : ' w I helped him to make all things 1 In Ostendorfer's woodcut the Virgin carries the keys of heaven and hell ; she is appealed to as goddess of life and death (p. 175) to stop the plague, and receives votive offerings representing healed limbs. To her the peasants appeal with milk- pail, sickle, and hay-fork in hand, with offerings of fruit and fish. In this respect, as goddess of fertility, she receives votive presents of seed-basket, fodder-pannier, pitchfork, and scythe ; while cooking-ladle and pot, spindle and firefork, show her relation to the old domestic goddesses of heathen times. In short, it is she who bears the halo, crown, and sceptre, and the child but completes the notion of the primitive mother-goddess. The reader will be able by the aid of a magnifying glass to recognise most of the things referred to in this description. In addition there would certainly be inside the building little wax images of babies, thank- offerings for fertility. In the unique copy of an unknown master's Die Wunder von Maria Zell in woodcuts from circa 1503, which is in the possession of Herr A. Coppenrath of Regensburg, we find the Virgin as goddess of fertility granting children to barren parents, helping women after childbirth, and curing all diseases, especially those of young children. Fig. 5. — The Virgin Mary as Local Mother-Goddess. 1 After Ostendorfer. VOL. II 2a CHARACTERISATION IN THE PASSIONPLA Y 355 glorious with my wisdom, heaven, earth, and the be- ginnings of life." " Ere God created hill, dale, or sea, I was conceived of him." The Virgin can help all men and save them from eternal pain ; she is the Noah's ark which carries them over hell-flood. She is one with the Trinity ; for since God is indivisible, the whole triune deity has dwelt within her, and she has partaken of its nature. 1 It is she who breaks the bolts and bonds of hell, who binds the enemy with all his powers, who blunts the sharpness of death. 2 The Apostles are the stars in her crown, and all things that God has created — sun, moon, and stars — fall down and worship her. 3 The notion of the Virgin we have thus endeavoured to give the reader is to a great extent embodied in the mediaeval religious drama. In the Egerer play it is the Virgin who dispenses salvation to the three Magi. 4 In Gundelflnger's Entombment John comforts Mary by telling her that she will soon sit on the highest throne 1 We even find the whole Trinity represented in the womb of the A'irgin (Didron. Iconographic chreticnne, p. 55S). Compare also the following expressions drawn from Latin Church hymns : totius trinitatis nobilc triclinium, cella trinitatis, mater tui patr is, gcnetrix genitoris, patris mater, templum sanetac trinitatis (see Mone, Hymni, Nos. 389, 472, 522, 10, 507). Again Heil tabernacle of pc trynyte occurs in an English Ave Maria (Hymns to the Virgin, E.E.T.S., 1. 49, p. 5). In the Coventry Mysteries (p. 115) the whole Trinity enters Mary's bosom. Gabriel addresses her as 'Goddys dowtere,' ' Goddys modyr,' 'Goddys sustyr,' 'Goddys chawmere and his bowre,' 'Throne of the Trinyte,' ' Quen of hefne, Lady of erthe, and Empress of helle.' "All hefne and herthe wurchepp 3cm now," says St. Elisabeth to the Virgin (p. 128). 2 We find similar ideas in many Latin hymns and sequences, e.g. Ave prae- clara maris Stella (v. 7): " Tuque furentem Leviathan, serpentem tortuosumque et vectem collidens, damnoso crimine mundum exemisti" (Daniel, Thesaurus, Sequence xxxvi.) In a Tyrolese Ludus dc ascensionc Domini, Christ formally hands over the kingdom of mercy to the Virgin (ed. Pichler, p. 11). 3 See Meisterlkdcr aus dcr Kolmarer Handschrift. Stutg. Lit. Vcrcin, Bd. lxviii. pp. 206 et seq. The song is probably due to an immediate follower of Frauenlob. Woodcuts with similar conceptions are innumerable. 4 F. pp. 76, 78. 356 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y of heaven by the side of her Son. 1 Still stronger are the fourteenth-century plays in their language of de- votion. The Himmelfahrt Maria adopts the speech of the Song of Songs, and as God raises the Virgin from DO' O her grave their words are those of earthly lovers and not of spiritual beings. All the erotic expressions which the fourteenth-century female ascetic applied to her bridegroom Christ are used in this play by the Virgin to her Son. 2 Christ declares that his daughter and bride shall rule the kingdom of heaven, while the angels proclaim that, as empress, her will shall be eternally fulfilled on earth as it is in heaven. 3 Christ then gives her crown and sceptre, with full power over the Devil, whereon the Virgin informs all mortals that she has taken upon herself the attributes of godhead. 4 In another play of the Day of Judgment we find the Virgin seated at the right hand of Christ helping to judge the world, while her claim to save any sinner who has appealed to her before his death is at once admitted. Elsewhere she asserts for herself control of all the elements and of all living things. 5 1 B, vol. ii. p. 143. 2 A, pp. 78-80. Compare Arnstcincr Marienleich (circa 1140), ' Godes druden,' and the English hymn Surga mea sponsa in Hymns to the Virgin and Christ, E. E.T.S., p. 1. Also see the Latin hymn Arc stella matntina, line 19, sponsa dei electa (Mone, No. 533), and compare such phrases as swirnni sponsa creatoris, soror dei et filia, ptnrens piatris, nata prolis — arnica, sponsa soda dei patris et filia — sponsa Christi — mater et filia, etc. (Ibid. Nos. 355, 462, 547, 548, etc. ), for the A'irgin. The St. Trudpertcr Hohenlied distinguishes three brUtlonftc in the Song of Songs, one of which is the marriage of God to Maria. A twelfth-century Gedicht con der Hochzeit (ed. Karajan) describes this marriage at length. 3 See A, pp. 61, 82. 4 Ibid. pp. 84-86. In P the Virgin has absolute control over the devils, and threatens to lay them in bonds (Part I. pp. 31-35). See also M, p. 112. 5 B, vol. i. pp. 288, 298. In the sixteenth-century folk-book, Thai Josaphat (Simrock, Bd. xii.), which is almost identical with this play, these parts are carefully omitted! See also Old English Miscellany, E.E.T.S., Doomsday, p. CHARACTERISATION IN THE PASSION-PLAY 357 So much for the divine side of the Virgin's character, she appears as the all-powerful divine mother of the primitive German faith. The human side, as we have already remarked (p. 272), is stamped by the well-known lamentations with considerable beauty and tenderness. A third important part which must now occupy our attention is that of the Devil. In the Gospel of Nico- demus we already find a considerable cohort of demons. Beelzebub is prince of hell and Satan his right-hand man ; there are " legions of devils," and " impious Death and her cruel officers " are of the company. 1 At what time Lucifer began to usurp the place of Beelzebub, owing to the strange interpretation of Isaiah xiv. 12, is not very clear. 2 It must suffice to say that in the mediseval plays Lucifer is the chief devil, Satan his ' antient,' and Beelzebub, if he appears at all, only one of the numerous crowd. 3 The mediseval Lucifer was 165. In the fifteenth-century Weihnachtsspicl, published by Piderit, the Virgin, after identifying herself with the stella maris and stating that she is fed miracu- lously by the Holy Ghost, continues (1. 189) : — Min ist audi aUes vnderdan, Son, sterne vnd auch der mone, Vnd alles das in der werlt lebet, Vnd in des meres grunde strebet, Vnd die cleynen fogellin. Dar vmb mogeu, mir, wol frolich sin, Das mir alle die dienen gar Mit der vier elementin schar Erden, lofft, fier vnd wasser tzwar. 1 See chaps, xvii. 1,9; xviii. 1. 2 See, however, Grimm, Deutsche Mythologic, 823, where it is suggested that Eusebius originated Lucifer. 3 In the plays the Devil in paradise was usually represented by a woman, or a figure with a woman's head, e.g. M, p. 30, in specie virginis. The stage- direction in one of the Weihnachtspiele given by Weinhold is that the serpent is to be acted by a girl. "A werm with an aungelys face," Coventry Mysteries, p. 29; "manner of an edder ... a medens face," Chester Mysteries, p. 26. This conception is frequent in the engravings. In the Spiegel menscMicht r BehdUni&s (Zainer, Augsburg, circa 1470) there is a woodcut of the serpent as a clothed, winged, and crowned woman ; her body terminates, however, in a dragon's tail. 358 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y no proud prince of hell, but a thoroughly contemptible craven, who fears even to be left alone ; he is treated with contempt by his subordinates, although at the same time they recognise his authority. Mediaeval legend blessed him with a grand-dam, mother, or wife, to whom reference is occasionally made in the plays. 1 The dramatists seem to have been imbued with Luther's 2 idea that the best method of treating the Devil was to pour scorn upon him ; and, accordingly, a more pitiable, ludicrous being than the Lucifer of the plays can hardly be conceived. It is only in the opening scene of the Egerer Play that we reach the least trace of a higher artistic conception. Satan is, on the whole, a better worked out character ; he is the most enterprising and ambitious of the devils, although his cunning invariably overreaches itself, and he meets discomfiture at the hands of both God and man. 3 It is Satan who organises the hunt for souls ; he pre- pares hell chains for the false prophet Christ [Coventry Mysteries, p. 309) ; he alone offers physical resistance to the triumphant Eedeemer ; and he is the devil who suggests plans for the restocking of hell after the with- drawal of the patriarchs. The passion-play conception of Satan is much like that of the negro revivalists, at once cunning and stupid, the fear and the jest of mankind. He 1 For the characters of Lucifer and Satan see B, vol. ii. pp. 41-104 ; L, vol. ii. p. 305 ; D, p. 153 ; F, p. 292 ; C, pp. 4 et seq. ; H, vol. ii. p. 70 ; I, pp. 96 et seq., p. 144 ; TheopMlus, Part I. 11. 778 et seq., Part II. 11. 440 et seq., etc. As to the Devil's female relatives see I, pp. 55, 102, 104 ; C, p. 13 ; Grimm, Deutsche MytJwhgie, 842, Mdrcken, Nos. 29, 119, 125. All were extremely frequent proverbially and colloquially in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries (see earlier essays, pp. 27, 202). 2 See the Tischreden, iv. 73, 75, but often elsewhere. 3 See, for example, Grimm's Marchen, Nos. 81, 125, 189. CHARACTERISATION IN THE PASSION-PLAY 359 boasts to Lucifer that he has brought about the death of Christ, but the next moment the same Christ is thunder- ing at hell -gates. He runs off with a priest who is saying mass, but the priest exorcises him and drives him into a wild ravine, where even Lucifer is glad to be free of him for a time. 1 He brings a lawsuit against humanity, but mercy is stronger than justice, and he is dismissed with costs. 2 On all occasions the devil of mediaeval drama is a part which verges on broad farce. There is only the one glimpse, which is lost almost at once, of a Prometheus or Loki type. And yet, if the reader would understand the Middle Ages, he must realise that the folk, like Luther, believed in and feared the Devil, even while they strove to laugh at him. Of the minor characters, Judas fills the familiar part of the melodramatic stage-villain, even to a black nimbus. No attempt whatever is made to analyse the motives which may have led to his supposed treachery. The passion-play Judas is simply the incarnation of evil, and, beyond delight in ill-doing, without a reason for 1 See B, vol. ii. p. 100. The Gospel of Nicodcnms, chap, xv., is, of course, the source of some of the mediaeval conceptions. 2 The lawsuit, Satan versus Humanity, was a frequent allegory. Thus we have Peter Mechel's play, Ein schiiii Gespreche, darinnen der Sathan Anklager des gantzen menschlklwii Geschlcchts ist, etc. The basis of Mechel's play, as of several others of like character, was Jakob von Teramo's Belial, Processus Luciferi contra Jcsum Christum. This was written about 1400, but first printed by Zainer in 1472. See also Coventry Mysteries, xi. In a still-acted peasant play, Das Paradiesspiel (Weinhold, Weihnachtspiele), when Mercy has won the lawsuit, Christ beats the Devil about the shoulders with his cross back to hell. This might appear to the reader as a modern innovation in the worst taste, but it has really great antiquity. The conception is, in England at least, as old as the fourteenth century. Thus in the Disputacio inter Mariam ct Cruccm {Legends of the Holy Pood, E.E.T.S., p. 131), we find :— Til ]>e crosses dunt 3a! him a daunt. — 1. 428. Cristes Cros ha]> craked his crown. — 1. 287. Pe Cros I calle J>e heerdes 3erde, penvi]) ]>e deuel a dunt he ;af. — 1. 295. 360 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y his action. Justice is amply satisfied when he is formally executed by Beelzebub, when Lucifer announces that he intends to ride him round hell, or declares that l — Er muss sein mein spilhundt ; Tieff in der helle grundt Da muess er prinnen und pratten ; Es wirt sein nimer ratten. Ich wil in tieff versencken, Mit schwevel, pech wil ich in trencken Und wil em feur geben zu essen Und sein mit keiner pein vergessen. Judas not only despatches himself with much realism, but is afterwards roasted and eaten by the devils for morgensuppe. Pilate 2 possesses more individuality than Judas. Occasionally he is represented as the bitter foe of Christ who takes council with the Jews on how the false Messiah may be destroyed. 3 Generally, however, we have the Pilate of Christian tradition — a judge who is fully convinced of the innocence and, after the resurrection, of the divinity of the man he has con- 1 See F, pp. 188, 189. The Devil sits on Judas in a picture of the Last Judg- ment by Meister Stephan ; see the frontispiece. Alongside are the fatal pence. Dante represents Judas champed between Lucifer's teeth {U Inferno, c. xxxiv. 11. 51-59). The general mediaeval conception is well expressed in the fourteenth- century song : — du arnier Judas was has tu gethan, Das du deinem Herrn also verrathen hast ! Darumb mustu leiden in der Helle pein, Lucifers Geselle mustu ewig sein. Kyrie eleison ! - Pilate, like Judas, had, according to tradition, led a disreputable life, references to which occur in the plays. He was the son of King Atus, his mother being the miller's daughter Pila ("Kyng Athus gate me of Pila," Town- ley Mysteries, p. 233. For the reputation of the mill in mediaeval times see p. 150). The same etymological explanation of Pilate's name will be found in a twelfth-century German fragment, Pilatus, in Massmann, Deutsche Gedichte d. 12. Jahrh. pp. 145-152. For Pilate's life and crimes the reader may consult this fragment, and Das altc Passional, pp. 85 ct seq. 3 For example, the Vienna Easter-play, L, vol. ii. p. 299. CHAR A CTERISA TION IN THE PA SSION-PLA Y 36 1 demned. To appease the Jews he orders the crucifixion, but at the same time he very formally washes his hands on the stage and strongly expresses his private views as to the innocence of the prisoner. Sometimes we find an element of realistic indifi'erentism ; it is not his business to set watchers at the grave, but he will give his consent provided the Jews pay for the soldiers ; as for the resurrection — well, the priests must themselves make the best they can of the disappearance of the body — it does not concern Pilate. The character is, however, rarely worked out with any consistency, not to say skill. Pilate will in the same play on one occasion term Jesus a swindler, and on another testify to his innocence. 1 Lastly, we may, passing by the characters of the chief disciples, whose parts are slight, refer to Mary Magdalen, concerning whom the gospels left free scope for the mass of legend which soon gathered round this most poetic figure among mediaeval favourites. Mary, according to legend, was the sister of Martha and Lazarus of Bethany. One version makes the family of noble, even royal birth ; besides property in Jerusalem, they owned two castles, one at Bethany and the other at Magdala. When the children came of age Lazarus took the property in the city, desiring to be a soldier, while of the two castles Bethany fell to Martha and Magdala to Mary. Lazarus and Martha were prosperous 1 See A, pp. 114 et seq. ; I, pp. 129 et seq. ; B, vol. i. p. 109, and vol. ii. pp. 301 et seq. ; F, pp. 191 et seq. For the character and motives of Pilate, compare La Resurrection du Sauveur, Jubinal, Paris, 1834 : " Jol' consenti par veisdie, Que ne perdisse ma baillie " : and Townley Mysteries, p. 203 : "I am fulle of sotelty, falsehood, gylt, and trechery." 362 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y and respected, but Mary devoted herself and her wealth to a life of wantonness. 1 This legendary view of Mary is fairly in accordance with the playwright's conception. In the Donaueschingen Play we are introduced to the Magdalen playing chess with her lover in the garden while attendants execute music — a scene which will be familiar to students of mediaeval manuscript miniatures. Simon's servant passes the fence, and being questioned as to his errand, announces that he is preparing a meal for Jesus. Mary, struck with fear, sits regardless of the game. At this instant Jesus himself goes by ; the game is thrust aside, a new light has dawned on the Magdalen, and she hastens off to the apothecary's shop. 2 It is im- possible to deny either the grace or the dramatic power of the incident thus treated. Unfortunately other plays are more artificial. As we have noted earlier (p. 343), the Magdalen is usually introduced dancing in the company of devils. In the Erlauer Play we find her throwing ball 3 with the Devil ; in the Alsf elder Play, after a dance of devils, the demon Natyr holds up a mirror to Mary ; she then dances with one of Herod's soldiers, and her maid with the demon. In the Egerer Play we have a more realistic touch ; Mary slinks away to avoid a meeting with Christ ; the devil Belial is her comrade, and as a pair of lovers they wander into the 1 Compare inter alia, Das alte Passional, pp. 368, 369. 2 See B, pp. 189 ct seq. The Digby Mysteries deserve special notice for their treatment of Mary Magdalen (pp. 56-83). The introduction of the good and bad angels, of the taverner, and of Mary sitting in her arbour thinking of her ' valen- tynes ' may be noted. There is a wonderfully fine engraving by Lukas van Leyden (Bartsch, 122) of the Magdalen in gaudio. It represents a garden with music and amorous couples ; in the background Martha and Lazarus in grief. 3 Ball was a favourite game for women in the Middle Ages ; see Schultz, Das hofische Lcben zur Zeit der Minnesinger, Bd. i. p. 422. CHARACTERISATION IN THE PASSION-PLA Y 363 meadows to weave garlands of flowers. Here it is that remorse seizes her. 1 Mary's remorse is generally symbol- ised in the plays by tearing off her fine clothes, jewels, or flowers, and this is always followed by the flight of the devil. In one play she curses her fine clothes, her roses, her white hands, the hair that has led to her perdition, her eyes, her cheeks, her unholy mouth, and even her pointed shoes. 2 In some cases Mary's conver- sion is brought about by seeing Christ, or hearing him teaching ; generally, however, Martha is the immediate cause. Martha's sermons are not at first received cordially, and Mary even suggests that if her sister were not so old and scraggy she would take a different view of life, — as the case is, she does well to stick to her spinning-wheel. In one play Mary declares that she will repent later and turn nun(!) like Martha; at the same time she hints that even nuns are no better than they ought to be. 3 The St. Gallen Leben Jesu intro- duces with considerable skill the scene between Christ and the woman taken in adultery ; between Mary's rejec- tion of Martha's advice and her remorse, the spectators are left to draw their own conclusions. 4 The anointing of the Master's feet in Simon's house, although closely following the gospel story, is as a rule fairly spirited ; while the part which the Magdalen plays at the cruci- fixion and resurrection has the special merits which we have already seen (p. 272) are peculiar to the typical MarienMage. 1 For details see I, p. 107 ; C, pp. 58 et scq. ; F, p. 103. 2 See J, p. 98 ; E, p. 24 ; I, p. 117 ; C, p. 62. 3 See I, pp. 110-112 : B, vol. i. p. 81. 4 See B, vol. i. pp. 81-83. 364 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y VII. — On the Performers in the great Folk Passion- Plays Of the essence of the modern drama are the profes- sional actor and the professional playwright. In the Middle Ages, so soon as the folk had withdrawn the passion-play from sacerdotal influence, there was not a trace of the professional element. The man of the folk writes, and the peoj)le act, to amuse the people. The drama is the central feature of a municipal holiday- making ; there is no rigid line between the amusers and the amused. The actors act for the pleasure of it, and the trained and salaried professional actor is unknown. Thus, whatever opportunities may have existed for the display of dramatic power in the passion-play characters we have just described — for individual interpretation as apart from symbolic significance — they were almost entirely thrown away by the untrained actors of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. These actors were homely burghers and simple craftsmen, who were prob- ably only called upon to act once or twice in the course of the year, 1 and who had no conception that acting requires either genius or a lengthy education. The religious drama, when it passed from the Church to the market-place, fell into the hands of honest but illiterate citizens, who generally took part in it by 1 It might be imagined that the numerous Fastnachtspiele provided a dramatic school. But apart from the question of whether broad farce can be a training for religious tragedy, it may be doubted whether the great open-air spectacles would draw any dramatic profit from the characterless buffooneries of the wine-shop. It must be remembered, however, that the very street boys played at passion-plays, besides performing religious dramas at school: see Thomas Platter's Autobiographie (ed. Fechter), 1840, pp. 122-124. THE PERFORMERS IN THE PASSION-PLA Y 365 reason of their corporate capacity as Mastersingers, or members of guilds and brotherhoods. Thus Sebastian Wild, tailor and mastersinger of Augsburg, wrote and published in 1566 a passion-play which was afterwards one of the chief components of the earliest Oberam- mergau text. 1 We hear also in the same century of the Mastersingers of Augsburg giving performances of the Stoning of Stephen, the Resurrection, and the Birth of Christ. The brotherhoods and guilds of Freiburg in the Breisgau appear to have been as active as the Master- singers of Augsburg. Freiburg had at one time what we may fairly term a processional passion-play, every scene of which was undertaken by a distinct guild or brotherhood. 2 Each set of actors in costume, perhaps forming a tableau, either marched or were drawn on a car, accompanied by the members of their guild, through the streets of the town to the market-place, where on arrival they recited the portion of the passion allotted to them. It is probable even in Germany that in some processional plays the same scene was occasionally repeated at several points. At Freiburg the guild of painters acted the Fall, in which the Devil carried the tree of knowledge ; the brotherhood of journeymen- coopers, the Sacrifice of Isaac ; the guild of bakers, the Annunciation ; the tailors, the Magi and Our Lady in 1 See D, pp. 190-197, 229, 230 ; and compare H, pp. 203 et seq. - In England religious plays were constantly given by the guilds. At Chester the tanners performed Lucifer's Fall, and the clothmakers the Creation, etc. There was a special guild for the play of the Lord's Prayer at York, where the trade guilds performed the Corpus Christi play, and there were pageant guilds at Beverley (see Toulmin Smith, English Guilds, E.E.T.S., p. 34, and the text of the statutes). The guilds of Coventry and those of Newcastle-on-Tyne had also elaborate Corpus Christi plays. A processional play undertaken by the guilds of Lobau is noticed in Flogel, Geschichte der Grotesk-Komischcn, p. 264. 366 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y the Sun; 1 the shoemakers, the Massacre of the Inno- cents ; the journeymen-tailors, the Triumphal Entry ; the brotherhood of burnishers, the Last Supper ; the bricklayers and carpenters, the Mount of Olives ; the journeyman-shoemakers, the Scourging ; the guild of coopers, the Ecce Homo ; the butchers, the Bearing of the Cross ; the goldsmiths, the Crucifixion ; and the clothmakers, the Resurrection. Meanwhile the guild of pedlars performed Saint George ; that of the barbers, Saint Ursula ; the smiths, the Virgin with the children under her mantle, 2 and afterwards the Day of Judg- ment. 3 Somewhat later we find the tanners giving Twelve Angels bearing the Arms of Christ. 4 In a somewhat similar processional play which was given at Lobau at the beginning of the sixteenth century, we find the members of the monastery still taking part with the guilds, a remnant of the rapidly disappearing influence of the Church over the religious drama. Clearly the method of folk-representation indicated in the processional play could not even preserve con- tinuity in the acting of any single part which appeared 1 We have already referred, in dealing with the Star in the East (p. 325), to this mediaeval interpretation of the apocalyptic woman with the moon beneath her feet. The Greeks had a similar interpretation (see Mount Atlas in Manuel aV Iconographie chrtticnne, p. 249). There are pictures in the Cologne Gallery (Nos. 95, 375) : special prayers were used before such pictures,— see for example Hortulus Animac (Dillingen(?), 1560, fol. 208). The imprisoned Cellini, praying to see the sun, saw Our Lady in the sun, Vita, ed. Colonia, p. 173. 2 On the wide-spreading mantle of grace, sheltering many sinners, we have remarked above (p. 350). Compare also Holbein's Solothurn and his Meyer Madonnas (Woltmann, pp. 181, 313). It was a favourite bit of symbolism with the Cologne School, and used for Saint Ursula as well as the Virgin (compare the Cologne Gallery pictures, for Virgin, Nos. 186, 230 ; for Saint Ursula, Nos. 124, 307). Benvenuto Cellini even adopted a like notion for a figure of God (see Vita, ed. Colonia, p. 61). s g ee ^ p_ 1 g 4< 4 The symbols of the passion arranged as a coat-of-arms, — a representation which will be familiar to students of mediaeval miniatures and engravings. THE PERFORMERS IN THE PASSION-PLA Y 367 in more than one scene. In the Frankfurt Play of 1498, Christ was played by no less than five different actors. Perhaps on this account, perhaps because each guild liked to emphasise the size and magnificence of its pageant, we find the number of actors immensely increased. The sixteenth-century stage-direction, " as many angels as possible," was amply fulfilled. 1 In Krliger's passion-play we find 46 needful parts ; the Alsfelder play requires more than 100 actors; the Frankfurter play of 1498 some 265, while a Luzern play of 1597 demands upwards of 300 actors.- With such numbers it is clear that, if the play was not processional, the stage must be very large ; the more so as the actors having taken up their proper positions upon it, in most cases never left it during the day's performance. 3 The Virgin Mary, having gone through her lamentations at the foot of the cross, must return to her allotted place and cease to lament. Pilate, having given his judgment, must sit still in his house while the cross was borne to the Calvary. The expenses in the case of such a multitude of actors must have been considerable. But it may be doubted whether the actors in Germany received any other pay than a good meal. On the other hand, in England we find pretty full records of the payments to the actors in the Coventry Mysteries (see Marriott, English Miracle- Plays, 1838) about 1500. Thus we note Imprimis to 1 See H, vol. ii. p. 0. 2 See S, vol. iii. p. 133 ; H, vol. ii. p. 9 ; L, vol. ii. p. 244 ; and compare Jubinal, Mysttres inidits, vol. i. p. 48 (200 actors). 3 E, p. 1 (opening stage-directions). This arrangement is very obvious in the Frankfurter S]ricl (S, p. 138) ; thus we read : Jhcsus surgat a loco suo, and again (p. 141), Jliesus quoquc rccipiat sc in loco donee ordo cum itcrum tangat. 368 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA V God, ijs, Item to the clevyll and to Judas, xviiij' 1 , Itm to Pilatt is wyffe, iis, etc. Herod was paid 3s. 4d., Pilate 4s., the Holy Ghost Is. 4d., Peter and Malchus Is. 4d., the knights 2s., and the minstrel Is. 2d. Even when the play was not processional in the sense in which we have used that word, the actors usually marched to the stage in procession. Thus the first group of the Luzern procession consisted of a shield- bearer, an ensign, the Proclamator, St. Gregory, God the Father, Adam, Eve, the Serpent, and the angel Uriel. On the second day another group consisted of the executioner Achas, Amalech, Jesmas and Dismas (the two thieves 1 ), God the Father, Longinus, Dionysius Areopagita, and the archangel Raphael. In the Alsfelder Processio Ludi we find included, Satan with a tree, 2 the devil Natyr with a mirror (see p. 362), the Cock, the Synagogue, two Jews carrying a Talmud, the Ecclesia, and, concluding a very long list, four damned souls with Death. 3 After the day's performance the Proclamator would not unusually dismiss the assembly either to church or to supper : — Nun mag wol fraue und auch man frolich von dem marck heim gan und miigen essen mosanczen und fladen und sich erhollen ires schaden. 4 1 Jesmas and Dismas were highwaymen who attacked the Holy Family on the flight into Egypt. At Mary's entreaties, Dismas spared their lives, which much angered Jesmas. Mary gave Dismas her girdle as a token of his ultimate redemption (see T, p. 385). 2 In the peasant-plays of Adam and Eve a decorated tree, representing the tree of knowledge, was carried about (see R, p. 112). 3 See the processional lists in B, vol. ii. pp. 121, 125 ; C, p. 257. 4 See F, p. 325 ; C, p. 91 ; B, vol. ii. p. 252. In the latter we read : ' Gat man ... in der ordnung bis in die cappel." THE PERFORMERS IN THE PASSION-PLA Y 369 Such, then, are the history, the characterisation, the stage, and the actors of the fully developed mediaeval passion-play — the religious drama written by the mastersingers and acted by the craftsmen of the guilds. The change from the scenic ritual of the early Christian priests to the complex pageant of the market-place, with its hundreds of actors, its colour, its music, its folk- tongue, and its dancing, marks a change in the spirit of mediaeval Christianity — its final appropriation by the folk as a folk-religion. Protestantism was again to wrest this religion from the hands of the people, and mark all these symbols, legends, and folk-beliefs as superstitious, where it did not, indeed, brand them as devilish. And with what result ? That folk-symbolism and folk-art, muni- cipal fete and the old religious socialism would be destroyed ; that the withering grasp of a dogmatic religion of the schools — without symbolism, without art, without pageantry — would again be laid on the Teutonic folk-spirit. But that folk-spirit cannot be permanently shut out from moulding its religion and its art. In a lower or higher form it is sure, sooner or later, to drag them out from the cloister and the museum, and make them a factor of the streets and the market-place. Nor are traces wanting of the beginnings of such a revival of folk -influence in our life to-day. Those who seek will find both the healthy and the diseased germs. vol. 11 2 b 370 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y VIII. — The Contents of a Sixteenth- Century Passion-Play In order to bring more vividly before the reader the course of a fully developed religious folk -drama, I purpose in this, the last section of my essay, to briefly sketch the leading incidents of such a play, without slavishly following any particular version. As soon as the procession had arrived at the stage, the chorus of angels would sing Silete, 1 and the Precursor or Proclamator would open the play. Usually he would call upon young and old, poor and rich, to attend to him, give them a short sermon on the meaning of the leading incidents in the Christian world-drama, suggest the need of penitence, recite the principal events of the first day's play, and bid the people make no disturbance, but listen attentively to all that shall follow. Sometimes the Precursor would adopt a more humorous folk-tone, of which the follow- ing — although taken from a fifteenth-century carnival play— is a very fair specimen : 2 — Silence, now for a while to-day, Come and hear what we've got to say, You in the corners here and there ! Yonder old women will talk away Why in the world their hens won't lay ! Other old gammers their gaffers are rating, Can't they see that we all are waiting 1 1 For example, in the Ludusde decern Virqinibus ( Warthurg Bibliothek, i. p. 15) Angeli cantant :■ — Nu swigit lilien lute lazzit u bedute. Swigit, lazt uch kunt tun, etc. 2 ' Ain spil von mayster Aristotles ' (Keller, No. 128, Fastnachtspicle aus dem 15*™ Jahrhundert, Stuttg. Lit. Verein). THE CONTENTS OF THE PASSION-PLAY 371 After the Precursor's speech would follow, according to circumstances, a variety of ' prefigurations ' or scenes from the Old Testament, usually commencing with the Creation of the Angels and accompanied by the Fall of Lucifer. In the Egerer and Luzerner Plays these scenes occupied the morning of the first day, — in the latter case from six o'clock till two o'clock. Passing them by as already sufficiently dealt with (p. 264), we may note the Council of Lucifer and the Devils in hell, sum- moned to devise a means of counteracting the work of salvation. The devils determined to take active steps to seduce the Jews from the path of virtue. The devil's mother Hellekrugk assists at this conference,, which not improbably ends in blows. 1 The gospel story now commences with the birth of the Virgin. The sacrifice of Joachim is refused in the Temple, and he leaves his wife Anna. The archangel Michael recalls him, and he meets and embraces Anna at the golden gate. She retires for a few moments and then returns with a child, the Virgin. Thereupon the sacrifice of the parents is received by the priest Isachar. To realise these passion-play scenes — the story of the Immaculate Conception — the reader has only to turn to Diirer's illustrations of the Life of the Virgin. 2 We may next have an incident or two from the Virgin's child- hood, her life in the Temple, Isachar's determination 1 C, pp. 5-13. See also Jubinal, Mysteres inidits, vol. ii. p. 38. 2 See Cuts 2-6. These and several later incidents in the Virgin's life are taken from the Protevangelion. Independent plays dealing with the Virgin were popular, e.g. " dramatische voorstelling op Marialichtmis in de Lebuinus-kerk, waarbii de kanunniken hem de rol van Maria met het kindele lieten vervullen ' (a.d. 1378-1411). See Acquoy, Het Klooster te Windesheim, Utrecht, 1875, i. p. 273. 372 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y that the consecrated Mary should marry, the summons to all men of David's lineage, and the bursting into bud of the aged Joseph's rod. 1 Joseph immediately after the marriage goes off to work and Mary retires to her ' oratory,' where Gabriel, followed by the columba de throno, announces in florid language the conception. 2 Then follows the journey to Bethlehem with a comic interlude. Joseph speaks of his wife as ' the Virgin,' a statement not confirmed by appearances ; and, partly on this account and partly because he has no money to pay, all the innkeepers refuse to put them up. 3 Refuge is at last found in a tumble-down outhouse, where the child is born. 4 Then we have the shepherds keeping 1 See F, pp. 46-49. The incidents are in Pseudo-Mathew, chap, v., and the Protevangelion, chap. viii. 2 Exactly as in Durer's Cut 8, where a water-pot is introduced to reconcile Pseudo-Mathew, chap. vii. , with Protevangelion, chap. ix. In Wernher's Drill liet von der Maget (1. 2115) the former account is followed, but Das alte Passional (p. 14) slurs over the discrepancy. In an Advent song from Unterwessen, Gabriel comes to the Virgin by night in her bedchamber, not in the oratory, but I have found no other instance of this (see R, No. 7, p. 62). The Annunciation seems, as I have already noted (see p. 290), at some places to have formed part of the scenic ritual. Thus in a thirteenth - century Besangon ritual cited by Martene (Liber iv. cap. 10. § 30) we read : "In Biscentina vero B. Magdalenae parochiali Ecclesia dum idem Evangelium (Missus est angelus) in missa cantatur, puella quaedam eleganter composita, et prius diligenter edocta, B. Virginis personam gerens, respondeat diacono legenti, iisdem verbis quibus Gabrieli Archangelo redemptionis nostrae mysterium annuntianti Beatissima Virgo Maria respondit." Martene refers in the same section to other less note- worthy rituals. 3 See Q, pp. 146, 203, but often elsewhere in the greater passion-plays. It was a peculiarly popular incident in the peasant-plays, and in them has survived to the present day : see R, pp. 48, 64, 65, 92, 101-104, but especially the Rosenheimer Dreikbnigspiel, p. 169 ; also the fifteenth-century Weihnachtsspiel, edited by Piderit, p. 97 ; Coventry Mysteries, pp. 145 et seq. ; and, with a variety of comic incident, the Chester Plays, pp. 119 et seq. In the latter one of the shepherds gives a pair of his wife's old hose, while in the German Weihnachtsspiel it is Joseph's old hose which are used to wrap the child in. These hose appear to be traditional, for we find Luther referring to them in a Christmas sermon on Luke ii. 1-14. 4 See F, p. 59, for ' das zerprochen haus,' exactly as in Durer's Cut 10. THE CONTENTS OF THE PASSIONPLA Y 373 watch by night, and the adoration of the shepherds. 1 Close upon their heels come the three Magi, who have seen the star from Mons Victorialis, and who narrate the wonders that have brought them to Judea. 2 A messenger announces their arrival and purpose to Herod, who curses the messenger, but entertains the Magi, while his wise men and astrologers are consulted. The three kings then depart for Bethlehem, where, before the Adoration, a curious incident is generally given. The youngest king desires eagerly to be the first to salute Jesus, and accordingly he becomes grey and aged, — God has listened to his prayer and transformed him into the eldest. 3 In the Erlauer Play the eldest, Caspar, naively takes off his grey beard and gives it to the youngest. The angel Uriel warns the Magi that, to avoid the plots of Herod and his wise men, who desire to know where Christ is, they should go back ' by another way ' to their places, — an incident which occurs in the Church ritual. We have then the Flight into Egypt, followed by the Massacre of the Innocents. Comic or folk-elements are introduced in Herod's messenger or fool, and again in 1 We have already seen that the shepherds formed the subject of an Advent scenic ritual ; we have noted the ' solemnis ad praesepe retro altare praeparatum processio ' at Rouen (see pp. 290 ct seq.) ; and other rituals will be found in Martene, Liber iv. cap. 10. to cap. 12. (Dc adventu Domini, De vigilia natalis Domini and Defesto natalis Domini). 2 To the Three Kings plays I have already mentioned may be added the Oblacio Magornm, Townley Mysteries, p. 120, and Le Jen cles trois Roys, Jubinal, Mysteres inMits, vol. ii. p. 84. In the Egerer Play the three kings mount three hills to see the wonderful star which contains the mother and' child (11. 1738, 1779, 1819, 1905). Hans Memling, in his Seven Joijs of the Virgin (Munich. Pinakothek, No. 655), has painted the three kings kneeling on three mountain - tops and looking for the miraculous star. See also Wright, Chester Plays, pp. 276, 284. 3 This ancient legendary feature has been preserved in the modern peasant- plays (see R, p. 183 footnote and text). 374 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y the conduct of the soldiers who, amid the lamentations of Rachael and the women of Bethlehem, destroy the infants, not without a taste of the women's distaves. In one play at least Herod dies terribly, and is carried off by rejoicing devils. 1 Other additional incidents frequently introduced into the first day's performance are the Banquet of Herod, the Dancing of Herodias's daughter, the Beheading of John the Baptist, and the Dance of the Devils with Herodias and her daughter to hell. 2 Some plays went as far in the first day as the Banquet in Simon's house, but the usual and more fitting beginning of the second day's performance w T as the commencement of Christ's public ministry. 3 On the second day there would be the Calling of the Disciples, the Temptation, and several of the more note- worthy miracles, 4 but the incident for which the audience looked with the greatest expectancy was that of the Magdalen and her lovers. Of the general method of treating this incident enough has been said (p. 362). Mary's repentance is followed by Simon's banquet, which, in the Donaueschingen play, consists of bread and fish. This takes place much in the gospel fashion, the actual anointing, however, being occasionally a 1 See J, p. 91 ; I, pp. 15 et seq., especially p. 23 ; F, pp. 73-89 ; B, vol. ii. pp. 161, 172, etc. ; Jtosenheimer Dreikonigspiel , R, p. 187 ; Chester Plays, p. 185. 2 Mediaeval legend describes an illicit passion of Herodias for John. At last, when she has his head on the charger, she can kiss the lips ; but the head springs upright on the charger and blows her into space. A head on a charger frequently appears in mediaeval legend, and the folklore of the subject deserves critical examination (see C, p. 35). 3 Compare the Egerer Play (F) with the Alsfelder (C) and Luzerner (B, vol. ii. pp. 125-127). 4 The Frankfurt Play works off the miracles in a batch ; a blind, a lame, a dumb, a leprous, a sick man are cured in rapid succession (see S, p. 140). THE CONTENTS OF THE PASSION-PLAY 375 choral interlude in almost the words of the Latin ritual. The Magdalen starts with the hymn : — Jesu Christi auctor vitae. 1 Upon which the disciples chant : — Accessit ad pedes Jesu peccatrix, an antiphone of the Eoman Breviary, while the washing of Christ's feet is accompanied by descriptive chants. The whole is concluded by the chorus or the Magdalen singing the wonderful hymn : 2 — Jhesu nostra redemptio, amor et desiderium, deus creator omnium, homo in fine temporum. Then follows a scene in which the devils give vent to their rage at the loss of the Magdalen's soul, but Belial finally comforts Satan with the prospect of seducing Judas. 3 Sometimes before, sometimes after the repentance of Mary we have the resurrection of Lazarus. It is preceded by his illness. Death, personified, gives him the ' todes strigk,' and preaches a dance-of-death sermon on the transitory life of all flesh. The resuscita- tion scarcely needs comment, except for the emphasis which, in order to magnify the miracle, the sisters lay 1 See F, p. 106 ; C, p. 86 ; I, p. 118 ; and compare Mone, Lateinische Hymnen, No. 1057. 2 It is needless to point to the influence of the Church ritual. The reader may compare Anglo-Saxon Hymnarium, Surtees Society, 1851, p. S3 (beginning of eleventh century). 3 See F, p. 107 ; C, p. 90. 376 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y on the state of the dead. 1 This miracle is usually made the basis of the hostility of the Jewish priesthood. Several scenes often follow in which the Jewish leaders take counsel as to how they may destroy Jesus. Here we may note that besides Annas, Caiaphas, and a multitude of Jews given by name, we have a personified Synagoga, who is not only the chief enemy of Christ, but often the representative of Judaism, in somewhat wearisome discussions with a personified Ecclesia, or champion of Christianity. These discussions appear at least as early as the twelfth century, and in the fifteenth were made the subject of separate plays. The effect which these mock discussions must have had in increas- ing racial hatred — since the most villainous opinions are put into the mouths of the Jews, and all sorts of persecution are commended — can scarcely be overrated by the student of mediaeval Jewish history. 2 To the assistance of Synagoga in her desire to destroy Jesus 1 ' Er stincktt sere, ich weys es woll ' (E, p. 109, and C, p. 71, pointing to a common source). Compare B, vol. ii. p. 95 ; Chester Plays, p. 229. In Hilarius's Suscitatio Lazari {circa 1130) we have the same notion : " Fetorem non poteris sustinere mortui, namque ferens graviter fumus est quatridui" (p. 32). In the same play the ' Jewish ' comforters of the two sisters are naively bald in their sympathy: "Talis lamentacio, Talis ejulacio, non est necessaria." 2 A striking example is the carnival -play of the Niirnberg barber and mastersinger Hans Folz, entitled Die alt und neu ee (see Keller's Fastnachtspiele, No. 1). A long Disputacio Ecclesiae cum Sinagoga occurs at the end of the second day's performance in the Alsfelder Spiel (C, p. 143). There is another in the Kilnzelsauer Fronleichnamsspiel (see Bartsch's Germania, Bd. iv.) The Frankfurter Spiel ends also with such a dispute, and with the baptism of Jews by St. Augustine. A certain ' Christiana,' with a red banner and gold cross, and a ' Judea,' with a banner and black idol, abuse each other in the Donaucschingen Spiel (B, ii. pp. 328, 329). Mone's note as to the French origin of the dispute (ibid. p. 164) is, I believe, hardly justified ; compare the German-Latin play in the Carmina Burana (J, p. 94). The Church is often personified as a female figure crowned and with a nimbus ; she holds a chalice in one hand and a cross in the other (see Didron, Christian Iconography, p. 85). For the dress of Ecclesia see the twelfth-century drama De adventu Christi (N, p. 220). There THE CONTENTS OF THE PASSIONPLA V 377 comes Satan ; he goes to Judas and promises him good pay if he will betra} r Christ. He then brings Judas to the conclave at the ' Jewish School.' It will be obvious to the reader that the conduct of the devils is hopelessly- stupid and without any motive ; they fear Christ has come from heaven to die for men, and their object should be to hinder the crucifixion ; they are represented as assisting it, apparently with the sole object of winning Judas' soul in exchange for the Magdalen's. At the same time their language shows that they are acquainted with Christ's purpose, and hate him accordingly. About this time in most of the plays we have the counting out to Judas by Caiaphas of the thirty pence. Judas objects first to one penny as rusty, to a second as not ringing well, to a third as broken, to a fourth as having a hole through it, to a fifth as having a wrong impress, and so on. Caiaphas does not take these objections in good part, but the bargain is finally struck. In the Heidelberg Play Judas goes directly from the banquet of Simon to Caiaphas, and the motive for the betrayal is the reproof he has there received. This at least indicates how perplexed the mediaeval play- wrights were to find a reason for Judas' conduct. 1 appears to be a very early Altercatio Simonis Judaei et Theophili Christian!, but I have not been able to see a copy. A ninth-century painting at Aquileia contains both Ecclesia and Synagoga ; so also the thirteenth-century porch of the Freiburg Minster, which (p. 322) we have already seen is of interest in relation to the religious plays. Compare, too, Jubinal, Mysteres in&lits, vol. ii. pp. 258-260, who cites an Altercatio from the twelfth century, p. 404. The arguments of Christian and Jew are opposed to each other with much prolixity in Der sele Wurtzgartt, Ulm, 1483. In the Tyrolese Ludus de ascensione Dom 'mi, the Archasinagogus mimics Christ with a mock prayer and creed (ed. Pichler, p. 12). Even as late as this century an altercation between a Pastor and a Jew formed a " Nachspiel" to a peasant-play (see R, p. 142). 1 See E, p. 140 ; C, p. 100 ; D, p. 10. 378 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLAY In the next place we have the entry into Jerusalem ; this formed a choral procession, which with the mediaeval power of pageantry must have been extremely effective. Choruses of the disciples, of youths, of the people, greet the Messiah in the ringing lines of the old Latin proces- sional hymns, such as the Jesus redemptor omnium and the Gloria laus ; or they intone verses from the Vulgate, as Hie est salus noster et redemptor Israliel. All is gladness, song, and dancing. The Church influence in this scene has still remained predominant, and we find a close relationship with the Palm Sunday ritual. 1 From this incident onwards the passion scenes proper follow each other in rapid succession. Jesus announces his intention of going up to Jerusalem for the Passover, and speaks of his approaching death. Mary, his mother, begs him to find another method of redeeming mankind, for how shall she find comfort ? Mary the Magdalen, who has means of ascertaining all that is going forward in Jerusalem, warns Jesus of imminent danger. Can he not eat the paschal lamb with them in Bethany ? Mary, his mother, shows him the breasts he has sucked, and entreats him for her sake to 1 See F, p. 120 ; S, p. 144 ; C, p. 80, and B, vol. ii. p. 246. We find the same choruses in the tenth-century Leofric Missal (ed. Warren, p. 256) and the sixteenth - century plays, e.g. the Gloria laus et honor and the Ingrediente Domino. Compare also the following ritual from Martene, Be antiquis Ecelesiae Ritibus, Liber iv. cap. 20. § 12 : "Tunc scholastici e regione Crucis lento gradu veniant ad earn et cum omni reverentia casulos et cappas in terrain jactantes proni adorent crucifixum clero interim cantante antiphonam Pueri Hacbreorum, etc. His recedentibus continuo veniant ex latere pueri laici Kijrie eleison cantantes, et serpiendo vexillum quod ante eos portatur, veniant ante crucem, et annueute aedituo jactent ramos palmarum in terram, proni adorando crucifixum, et clerus interim canat antiphonam Pueri Haebreorum, etc." Gerardus in his Life of St. Udalric describes a somewhat similar ritual, but with a procession cum effigie sedentis Domini super asinum (ibid. § xiv.) THE CONTENTS OF THE PASSIONPLA Y 379 avoid the bitterness of the cross. 1 She reminds him of the commandment he has himself ordained : " Honour thy father and thy mother." But all is in vain, the final sacrifice must be offered. Mary, the Mother, turns to Judas and begs him to keep watch and ward over her son, and the traitor promises to die in his defence. 2 The whole of this scene has much dramatic power, and is a little oasis in the arid routine of much of the more solemn parts of the passion-plays. The disciples Peter and John are now sent to find ' the man with the pitcher.' This host is ready to receive them, and points out his dishes and his cloths. 3 The last supper follows, with but few embellishments, on the lines of the gospel story : we find the statement of the new law of love ; the washing of the disciples' feet, during which each disciple sometimes recites an article of the Apostles' Creed ; 4 the distribution of the bread and wine (in some plays entirely operatic) ; the announcement of Judas' betrayal, and the prophecy of Peter's denial. The scene in the Garden of Gethsemane retains something of the power of a real spiritual contest. Jesus comes alone to the Mount of Olives — perhaps an inverted tub — upon which is placed a cup ; occa- sionally the stage-directions tell us that an angel is to 1 A somewhat similar notion is treated in a picture by the Elder Holbein at Augsburg. 2 See F, pp. 133-135, 137, 140 ; D, p. 11. 3 See E, p. 148 ; C, p. 95 ; B, vol. ii. p. 254. 4 This recitation by paragraphs of the Apostles' Creed occurs also in the Himmelfahrt Maria (A, p. 24). See also F, p. 147. The foot -washing was carried out in this manner in the recent Brixlegg passion-play. The reader may also consult Cuts 46 and 47 of the Scliatzbehaltcr. The incident seems based on an apocryphal sermon of Saint Augustine. Compare the footnote (p. 396) to the Day of Judgment. 380 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y appear bearing a cup or cross, 1 sometimes a series of angels pass by bearing the symbols of the passion. 2 The actor who performs the Salvador is to remain stretched on the ground crosswise, " a good paternoster long." 3 On the arrival of Judas, we have the kiss of betrayal, to distinguish Jesus from the disciple James, who is very like him in figure. 4 Then follows the thrice-repeated question of Jesus, and the thrice-repeated falling upon their backs of the soldiers ; this is to illus- trate the voluntary character of the sacrifice. We have next the valiant deed of Peter ; Malchus on recovering his ear only bids the crowd look at the magician, the juggler who has restored it to him, and then, as we have before noticed, becomes the leader of the gang of ruffians who are represented with the utmost extravagance as striking, hustling, and scoffing the bound prophet of Galilee. In such fashion ' the Jews ' corizando et cantando canticum aliquod (as ' Jesus the deceiver') lead off their Christ to Annas. 5 While a considerable amount of horse-play is being practised on the prisoner, the denial of Peter takes place. The mediaeval conception of Peter — the heavenly gate-keeper — was not very complimentary, and he is occasionally treated in folk-tale and Marchen with the 1 Always in the pictures and woodcuts. See F, p. 157 ; B, vol. ii. p. 263 ; K, p. 36 ; and D, p. 23. Further note La Passion de nostre Seigneur in Jubinal, Mysteres inedits, p. 183 ; Townley Mysteries, p. 184, where the Trinity (sic I) comforts Jesus ; and Coventry Mysteries, p. 282. 2 This conception was revived in the Brixlegg play. In a woodcut of the Hortulus Animae (High German version, Dillingen, 1560) the angel bears a cross (folio 198 reverso), while in the Schatzbchaltcr (Figure 52) a cross placed in a cup appears on the top of the rock. 3 See B, vol. ii. p. 265. 4 Compare Ludus de ascensione Domini (ed. Pichler, p. 9) with C, p. 102. 5 See C, p. 109. THE CONTENTS OF THE PASSION-PLAY 381 familiarity which borders on contempt. In the passion- plays two maids address this disciple in no very flatter- ing terms : " You old bald-pate," " you old traitor," etc., " were you not with him ? " After each denial the cock on the post, a great feature of the stage apparatus, calls out : l — (jriicze gu gu gu ga ! Peter lug lug lug nu da ! This scene usually contains the puczpirn, or the game with the blindfolded Christ. It appears to have been a very common children's game in the Middle Ages. One blindfolded child being placed in the centre, the others gather pears from different parts of his body : " The pears are sweet, here by the feet" ; " At the top of the tree are ripe pears, see," and so forth ; each jingle is accompanied by a pull, until the blindfolded child guesses the pear-plucker's name. 2 This game, with every conceivable insult and violence, was played on the blindfolded Christ, and to judge by its frequent occurrence in the plays must have met with much popular approval. Next the interview with Caiaphas follows, which only serves to throw into still greater prominence the supposed brutal passions of the hated Jews. This leads up to the first interview with Pilate. On the character and motives of the Roman com- 1 See C, p. 109. The denial scene varies a good deal ; compare F, p. 169 ; K, p. 123, etc. 2 A jingle possibly for this game will he found in Wolff's Zcitschrift, iv. p. 351. As to butz, see Schmeller's Bayerisches Tforterbuch, vol. i. p. 316; compare Grimm, Deutsche Mythologie, 418, and Wundcrhom (ed. Reclam), p. 823. References to pictures of the incident have been given (p. 262). The game is one form of Blindckuh or blindman's-buff. It is introduced onto the stage also in a farce of Herzog Heinrich Julius (ed. Tittmann, p. 106). 382 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y mander I have already commented (p. 360). Conscious of the innocence of the accused, Pilate sends him to Herod, who is delighted at seeing the famous juggler (gougelman) of whose doings he has heard so much. As Jesus refuses to exhibit his magical powers Herod holds him for a perfect fool (ein rechter thore), and sends him back in fool's garb to Pilate with profuse expressions of friendship for the latter. 1 Probably about this stage of the play Judas is over- come by remorse, and, casting his thirty pence at Caiaphas' feet, 2 takes a rope and proceeds to hang himself. Beelzebub and other devils run to offer him assistance, or sit on the gallows and mock him. According to the stage-directions a black bird shall fly away from him, 3 and Beelzebub shall tear open his bosom and let fall " etwas tarmen." Meanwhile the chorus sing O du armer loser Judas ! 4 and the devils with fire-forks dance round him and off with him to hell, where Lucifer receives him in the highest glee. 5 The second audience with Pilate is marked by the Barabbas incident and the scourging. In the former, Barabbas, released from the stocks, runs at once to fetch a scourge and a rope in order to assist. The scourging is of an extravagantly brutal character in 1 See C, p. 129 ; F, p. 182 ; D, p. 44 ; K, pp. 146 ct seq. ; and J, p. 103, where we read, "Tune conveniant Pilatus et Herodes et osculentur invicem." 2 These pence were coined hy Abraham's father, and belonged successively to Potiphar (as Joseph's purchase-money), the Queen of Sheba (given to Solomon), the Magi, the Virgin Mary, the High Priest, and Judas ! They may be found alongside Judas in hell : see the frontispiece. Note the fourteenth-century Drei Kiinigc (Simrock, Volksbiicher, iv. p. 459), and Chester Plays, p. 291. 3 On the souls of sinners as crows compare Grimm's Marchen, No. 107, Die beiden Wanderer. See also p. 331. 4 This is the old hymn, afterwards ' christlich verandert ' by Luther. 8 See C, p. 115 ; F, p. 188 ; B, vol. ii. pp. 281 et seq., etc. THE CONTENTS OF THE PASSION-PLA Y 383 both action and language ; the bullies strike till they break their rods, they fall to the ground in sheer exhaustion, and refresh themselves from Barabbas's wine- flask. The crown of thorns, precisely as in the wood- cuts, is forced into the flesh by long rods pulled downwards at either end by the Jewish persecutors. 1 In the condition due to such torture — a condition repre- sented with painful realism by some modern as well as mediaeval passion-plays — Pilate leads Jesus to a window, and shows him to the people to excite sympathy, Ecce homo ! The Jews will listen neither to Pilate's words, nor to his sighs. Even the intercession of his wife Pilatessa (occasionally called Portula, queen of Hana- laps) — to whom Belial or Satan has appeared in a threatening dream with the view of hindering the work of redemption — cannot stay the judgment. The Jews lay stress on the Emperor's displeasure. Pilate breaks his staff, 2 with much ceremony washes his hands, and 1 Besides the pictures to which I have referred on p. 263, I may notice that the earliest engraving of these stakes which I have come across occurs in a unique Leiden Christi at Munich from about 1460. Some account will be found in Stoeger, Zioei der altesten deutschen Druckdenkmalcr, Munich, 1833. See also Coventry Mysteries, p. 316. 2 In Holbein's Todtentanz the staff of the judge is broken by Death. The staff was in northern mythology the symbol in the hands of the gods of their power over living and dead (see Simrock, Deutsche Mythologie, 1878, p. 178). The judge in nearly all mediaeval woodcuts is represented with a staff, and the staff was raised when an oath was taken ; its modern equivalent is the judge's mace. In most of the cuts of the Layenspicgel (1544), the judge is represented as holding the staff vertically in his hand. The same conception will be found in the cuts of the Bambcrgische Halsgerichts Ordnung, 1531 (even the fool as judge has a staff!), and of Karl V.'s Peinlich Halsgericht, Frankfurt, 1577, and indeed of all old German law-books. See also the second cut of Zainer's Schachzabelbuch of 1477, and a cut from 1442 in Holtrop : Monuments typo- grapliiques dcs Pays-Bas, p. 40. Nearly all the great series of Passion cuts represent Pilate with the staff. In a peasant Three Kings play taken from oral tradition (in 1875), 'Conscience' tells Herod he cannot hope for grace: 'Dei- stab ist gebrochen,' i.e. he is condemned (see Poscnheimcr Dreikonigspiel in R). 384 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y with a flourish of trumpets condemns Christ. 1 Thus very usually and fitly ends the second day's performance. The third and last day's performance was the richest in incident, the most varied in character, and probably the one best calculated to excite the strong if not very refined emotions of a mediaeval audience. Throughout all its scenes run the choral lamentations of the mother and of the woman to whom Christ had brought new life. These, as we have already noted, bear traces of the inspiration of the great lyric poets of an earlier age, and still in their rough folk-versification are not without beauty. On the way to Calvary, under the Cross, at the Entombment, we have a picture of the Virgin as mother which contrasts oddly with the divinity elsewhere so lavishly bestowed upon her. I shall not refer more minutely to these Marienklagen? 1 For the above account, see C, pp. 135-143 ; F, pp. 198-203 ; B, vol. ii. pp. 298-305 ; D, pp. 55, 58 ; K, p. 155 ; S, p. 150. In a fete held in 1313, mentioned by Geoffrey of Paris, we read : — Les tisserands representer . . . Adam et five, Et Pilate qui ses mains leve. See Jubinal, Mysteres inidits, vol. i. p. 22. In La Passion de nostre Seigneur {ibid. vol. ii. pp. 223-226), Pilate's wife, accompanied by her son and daughter, goes to entreat Pilate (see Schatzbchalter, Fig. 74). Pilatessa and her maids offer much of interest in relation to mediaeval social life and its conceptions (see F, p. 207). 2 Marienklagen, as independent plays, are to be found in B, vol. i. pp. 31, 198, with interesting introductions ; I, p. 150, Latin and German ; L, vol. ii. p. 259 ; Schonemann, Dcr Silndenfall, 1855 ; and Z. There is small doubt that at a very early date Marienklagen formed part of the Church ritual, quite apart from their relation to the later passion-plays. They were introduced into the Good Friday service of the Adoratio cruris after the hymn Crux fidelis, and before the cross was carried to the sepulchre ; see M, pp. 129, 138, 144 (Hie portant cruceni ad sepulchrum), and 146 (Maria cadit ad sepulchrum). But the Freising rubric in particular should be noted : "Hie incipit ludus . . . et debet cantari post Crux fidelis, et sic fmire usque ad vesperam lamentabiliter cum ceteris sicut consuetum est fieri." THE CONTENTS OF THE PASSION-PLA Y 385 only let the reader bear in mind that they are an all- important feature in the latter portion of the typical passion-play. The third day's play opens with a considerable amount of bustle, the ' beadles ' and soldiers, foremost among them Barabbas and Malchus, hurry about seeking the necessary implements ; one brings the Cross, 1 another the three blunt nails, 2 a third the hammer and pincers, and so on. The two thieves, Dismas and Jesmas, are taken from the stocks, and 1 Occasionally reference is made to the well-known legend of the Holy Rood as grown from a twig of the tree of life brought by Seth from the garden of Eden. Separate mysteries of this legend were common, and it formed an integral part of some of the longer plays (see Jubinal, Mystercs intdits, vol. ii. pp. 17-20 ; B, vol. i. pp. 307, 313, vol. ii. pp. 28, 46). Generally, as to the legend of the Holy Rood, consult Morris, Legends of the Holy Rood, E.E.T.S. ; Keller's Fastnachtspiele, Nachlcse, Das heilig krcutz spil, No. 125 ; Niirnberger Buch der Croniken ix b ; Simrock, Volksbilcher, xiii. p. 445 ; Reinke de Vos, 1. 4886 ; Das alte Passional, p. 98 ; Geffcken, Bildercatechismus, p. 71 ; Schone- mann, Der Siindcnfall, p. 43 ; and, of course, the Gospel of Nicodemus, chap, xiv. 4, etc. 2 As to the number of nails used for the crucifixion, we find, according to Didron, that three or four were used indifferently up to the tenth century. Gregory of Tours and Durandus were in favour of four. After the thirteenth century the practice of using only three came definitely into the ascendant {Christian Iconography, p. 271). Much interesting information, with copious authorities, is given by Morris (Legends of the Holy Rood, p. 19). Knackfuss, in a recent monograph on Velasquez, speaks of that artist in his Crucifixion (in the Prado Museum at Madrid from about 1640) having reintroduced the ancient four nails, therein following the advice of his father-in-law Francisco Pacheco, who, in his book on painting, is very much opposed to the custom which had arisen in the thirteenth century of crossing the legs and using only three nails (p. 30). My own notes on German representations give the following among other results : Four Nails. — Processional cross from Stift Essen about 980 ; ivory reliefs, tenth-eleventh centuries (Berlin Museum and elsewhere); cross of gilt bronze (Berlin Museum) ; extremely early colossal crucifix at Munich (National Museum, Saal I.) In short, reliefs and crucifixes before 1200 have usually four nails. Three Nails. — Munich, National Museum : Pohl altarpiece (Saal III.), 1380-1420; altarpiece from Franciscan church at Bamberg (Saal IV.), 1429; Galcar altar (Saal X.), 1450-1500. Munich, Pinakothck : Wolgemuth (No. 27), 1450-1500 ; Wolgemuth, Hopfer altar ; Cologne master (No. 622), circa 1466. Cologne Gallery : Master Wilhelm's School (No. 44), circa 1380 ; Gothic VOL. II 2 c 386 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y Caiaphas starts the procession to Golgotha. 1 Jesus being unable to bear the cross, simple Simon, a pilgrim, is forced to assist. Then follow the prophetic words to the women of Jerusalem, and the beautiful incident with Veronica. 2 The nailing to the cross is performed with extreme brutality, and the whole process of hammer and gimlet painfully emphasised. 3 As the cross is raised, we have again vestiges of the Church ritual in the singing of the Latin hymns : crux, ave spes unica and Ecce lignum crucis of the old cere- monial Adoratio crucis 4 " (see p. 293). The Virgin comes forward, and, heedless of the scoffing of the Painting (No. 30), circa 1250 ; Master of Lyversborg Passion ; Anton Wonsam. Augsburg Gallery: Wolgemuth (No. 43), 1450-1500; Altorfer (No. 47), 1517. Berlin Museum : Veit Stoss, circa 1496. Wurzburg : Conrad von Thiingen's grave in the Cathedral, circa 1540. Weimar Church: Cranach altarpiece. Nilrnberg, Germanisches Museum: Wolgemuth, Christ stooping from the Cross to St. Bernard, circa 1488. llamersdorf : Fresco Crucifixion, early fourteenth century. Four Nails. — Hans Burgkmair at Augsburg (No. 44), circa 1518 ; drawing by Hans Baldung Grien in the Albertina, 1533 ; and quite modern pictures, like Dietrich's Crucifixion at Dresden. These few examples seem to show that the four nails were peculiar to carving, where the crossing of the knees is by no means easy technically. The three nails came in with painting (yet were used by Adam Krafft and Veit Stoss) ; they are more graceful than the four, and the foreshortening is fairly easy on canvas. Finally, Burgkmair and Grien, not Velasquez, seem to have reintroduced the four nails. 1 B, vol. ii. p. 306 ; F, p. 217, etc. 2 See C, p. 168 ('simplex Symon' ; compare Chester Plays, ii. p. 51, 'Symon of Surrye'); B, vol. ii. p. 309 ('ein bilgern') ; D, p. 61 ; K, p. 161 ; E, p. 231, etc. Compare Fig. 81 of the Schatzbehaltcr. I have treated the Veronica incident, artistically and liturgically, at a length I once hoped to treat the whole Passion, in a separate work, Die Fronica, Ein Beitrag zur Geschichte dcs Christsbildes im Mittelalter, Strasburg, 1887. 3 On the passion-play stage the holes for the hands were invariably made too far apart, and a rope used to strain the arms of the sufferer. Compare also Digby Plays, ii. 1. 1338 ; Chester Plays, ii. 58 ; Coventry Plays, p. 319. This is represented with realistic hideousness in Fig. 85 of the Schatzbehalter. In these typical passion-play woodcuts Wolgemuth renders the brutality of the Jews as strongly as either Diirer or Cranach. See, for example, Fig. 81, where the soldiers make mouths at the Virgin. 4 F, p. 235 ; E, p. 174. THE CONTENTS OF THE PASSION-PLA Y 387 soldiery, covers with her veil the nakedness of her son. 1 The inscription of Pilate is placed above Christ, and the Jews dance round the cross. 2 The garments are now rent and divided, but the Jews throw dice for the coat of Jesus. The dice are taken from the pocket of one of the thieves, and a doubt is expressed whether they may not be loaded. 3 Meanwhile, in the midst of Mary's lamentations, John, in order to fulfil literally the prophecy of Simeon, places the point of a drawn sword to her heart. 4 The crucified Jesus speaks the " Seven Words " 5 — i.e. pardon 1 E, p. 232 ; S, p. 150. 2 C, p. 181. 3 t E, p. 240 ; F, p. 238, etc. 4 Compare Luke chap. ii. 35 ; Gospel of Nicodemus, chap. xii. 5 ; Das alte Passional, p. 75. See C, p. 203 ; I, p. 159 (John hands the Virgin a sword) ; L, vol. ii. p. 264 ('Simeonis grimmec swert ') ; F, p. 264 ; K, p. 60 ; B, vol. i. pp. 175, 187, 199, 235, vol. ii. p. 313. This sword is a favourite bit of mediaeval symbolism. Among Scheifelin's cuts to Schonsperger's Via Felicitatis of 1513 we have one of the Mater dolorosa with^e swords radiating halo-fashion from her head. In the Konstanz Biblia Pauperum the Virgin stands at the foot of the Cross with a sword in her breast. In one of the E.E.T.S. Legends of the Holy Rood (p. 142) the sword springs from the cross. The Virgin with a sword in her breast occurs in a woodcut (fol. 204 reverse) of the Hortulus Animae (German version, Dillingen, 1560 ?). On the title-page of a rare book — Michaelis Francisci dc Pisulis Quodlibctica decisio . . . de scptem dolo- ribtos . . . Virginis Mariae, Schratenthal, 1501 — the Virgin is represented with her heart pierced by seven swords — the 'Seven Sorrows.' The same seven swords occur also in a picture in the Augsburg Gallery of about 1600 (No. 83), and often elsewhere. They are part of the mediaeval custom of repre- senting by symbolism what the untrained actor or early artist could not render by the expression of facial emotion. In John Parfre's play of Candlemas-Day we read (Marriott, p. 218) :— Of blissid Mary how she shall suffre peyn, Whan hir swete sone shall on a rood deye, A sharpe swurde of sorrow shall cleve hir hert atweyn. 5 "And so men pat marken }>e gospel seien }>at Crist srxike sevene wordis, }>e while he hyng on ]>e cros, to greet witt and mannis profit " (Select English Works of JVijelif, Arnold, vol. ii. p. 128). There are special prayers for the Seven Last Words in the Hortulus Animae (attributed to Bede), the Hertzmancr (Casper Hochfeder, Xiirnberg, circa 1480), and in a fifteenth -century manu- script {Gcbctsammlung) in the author's possession, which has prayers also for 'de vii bespottungen.' For a full appreciation of these words and their mean- ing for mediaeval thought see the Schatzbehalter, Niirnberg, 1491, fol. I. ii. reverse et seq. 388 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y for his torturers, salvation for the penitent thief, pro- vision for his mother, the Eli lama sabachthani, the statement of thirst, the accomplishment, and the com- mendation of his spirit. Each word is followed by the scoffing of the bystanders ("Die 7 Spottreder "), and thus the brutality of the Jews is preserved to the last. With the Seventh Word a white dove is to be set free, and Satan, sent by Lucifer, comes to fetch Christ's soul. An angel meets him with a drawn sword, and Satan flies back to hell in consternation. In one play Satan goes with a net to fish for the soul, and Gabriel and he " ascend the ladder together," where, however, the Devil is discomfited. Here again we see the same con- fusion of motive in the conduct of the devils as I have previously drawn attention to (see pp. 358, 377, 383). Then the veil of the Temple — a curtain hanging from two columns — is rent, four dead men arise from their graves, 1 the moon and stars speak to Christ, 2 and guns are fired for thunder. " Verily," exclaims the cen- turion, " this was the Christ." 3 The fine incident with the blind Longinus is now generally introduced. Longinus had ridiculed the notion that Jesus could cure the blind, and challenged him to attempt the cure in his case. The old man comes, and — some plays say from hate, others from pity and a desire to shorten Christ's 1 For the talk of the four dead men see T, p. 433. 2 Probably the sun, moon, and stars were represented in the plays exactly as in pictorial art. A Paris MS., in a miniature of the crucifixion, has a tall white female figure with a crescent on her head for the moon, and a youth in red with a radiated crown for the sun. Sometimes we find two angels carrying stars, sometimes the stars are personified (see Didron, Christian Iconography, pp. 86, 87, and Fig. 68). 3 See B, vol. ii. p. 324 ; C, pp. 197-199 ; F, p. 253 ; E, p. 247 ; K, p. 166 ; D, p. 68. THE CONTENTS OF THE PASSION-PLA Y 389 sufferings — orders his servant to place his spear upon the prophet's side. Longinus thrusts it in, and the blood and water rushing out fall upon the blind eyes and give them sight again. Longinus is afterwards found assisting at the entombment. 1 Meanwhile the limbs of the thieves are broken, and devils and angels come to fetch their apportioned souls. 2 The begging of Christ's body from Pilate, the lower- ing of it from the cross by Nicodemus, Longinus, Joseph of Arimathsea, and their servants present nothing of special note. The body is usually placed in the lap of Mary seated at the foot of the cross, an incident often dealt with in mediaeval painting. 3 It is then carried on a bier to the grave while the chorus chant the response, Ecce quomodo moritur Justus. A Some plays show even more strongly the influence of the old Church ritual. Thus in Gundelfinger's Entombment we have 1 See B, vol. ii. pp. 224-226, 326-327, 331 ; F, p. 259 ; K, p. 65 ; D, p. 70 ; per- verted in Kriiger's play, H, vol. ii. p. 66. As to how the wound was represented we may note the stage-direction, " Vulnus antem lateris et alia vulnera simi- liter sint priiis depicta ut quasi vulnera videantur" (S, p. 151). A still more painfully realistic method was adopted in the recent Brixlegg passion-play. The question of the first appearance of Longinus's blindness in mediaeval tradition has been raised by G. Stephens (Studies on Northern Mythology, 1883, p. 326, and Appendix, p. 43). I may note that Longinus is not blind in the fourth - century Xpicrrds wdax<*>i> (11. 1080 ct seq., 1212), nor in the tenth -century Homily ofiElfric (Legends of Holy Hood, p. 106). Not even in the thirteenth-century Passion of our Lord (Old English Miscellany, E.E.T.S., p. 51) is the blindness mentioned. This may serve to illustrate how continuous was the growth of mediaeval tradition. - Compare two pictures by Altorfer (Augsburg Gallery, Nos. 48, 49), and another from the early Cologne School (Cologne Gallery, No. 37). :i The notion, the Pieta, is as old as the fourth -century Xpurrds irdax^v (11. 1295-1309). See the copper engraving of Christ in the Virgin's lap by the master E. S. about 1467, and many woodcuts. It is as much a favourite with miniaturists as painters, e.g. a fifteenth-century Metz MS. Horae B. Virgin is, once in my hands, Miniature vi., etc. In sculpture we have Michael Angelo's work in St. Peter's, Rome. 4 See C, p. 214 ; E, p. 260. 39o THE GERMAN PASSION-PLAY a procession consisting of the cross-bearer, four angels carrying the three nails and the crown of thorns, four angels with candles, Joseph and Nicodemus with two servants bearing the body, four more angels with candles, the Virgin with John, then the three Maries, and lastly two servants with ointment. 1 Such a proces- sion approaches in content those of the Easter rituals. From this epoch in the plays we have even a greater fulness of incident and a wider range of material to select from than before, since now the numerous Kesur- rection-dramas and Easter-plays come to our assistance with endless variety of detail. The main thread running throughout them all, however, is the Church ritual as it is developed in the Tours Mystery (p. 302). The Jews obtain Pilate's authority to set watchers at the tomb, and the four "knights" set out on their mission dancing and singing. The grotesque-comic of their valiant language is really not so inappropriate as it at first appears. If this man Jesus comes to life again may their hair turn golden ; should the disciples come near the grave they shall forfeit their lives ; the watchers set no limit to their own prowess, they will stand up against hundreds till they wade in a very sea of blood. Even their names— Dietrich, Hildebrant, Isengrim, and Laurein - — are those of invincible Teutonic heroes. And what happens when they come to the grave ? They fortify 1 See B, vol. ii. p. 141. Mater Maria is distinguished from Maria Jacobi, Maria Salome, and Maria Magdalena. The Sejmlto Domino of the old scenic ritual is also frequently sung (see S, p. 152, etc.) 2 See especially the Lucius Judeorum circa Sepulchrum, I, p. 125 ; F, p. 280 ; D, p. 78 ; K, p. 183 ; B, vol. ii. pp. 36-41, 339 ; L, vol. ii. p. 301 ; and La Resurrection du Sauveur, Jubinal, Paris, 1834 ; Townley Mysteries, p. 259: also the Xptarbs Trdaxuv, 1. 1900. THE CONTENTS OF THE PASSIONPLA Y 391 themselves with wine, and either drop off to sleep one after the other, 1 or, Gabriel appearing, collapse in terror at his chant : — Recedete, recidite infideles, cedite ! Not infrequently the three archangels come to the tomb — Michael with a drawn sword, Gabriel with a candle, and Raphael with a banner. 2 Exurge, quart obdormis, domine ! Adjuva nos et libera nos ! they cry, and Jesus, arising, takes the banner from Raphael and sings, Ego dormivi & Resurrexi. 3 These chants are usually 1 Before the thirteenth century all the soldiers remained asleep during the Resurrection ; then it appears to have been thought desirable that there should be witnesses, and so some remained awake (see Didron, Manuel d'Iconographie cliriticnne, p. 200). Compare, however, Hefner- Alteneck, Trachten des Mittel- alters, plates 12, 4, 5 (before 1220 all asleep), 3 (about 1250 all awake), 84, 88. In Pfalzgraf Otto Heinrich's Bible at Gotha (fol. 43) two are asleep and two are awake. Diirer in his Greater Passion has some asleep and some awake. In Cranach's Passion (Schuchardt, p. 205, No. 14), all five are asleep. In the Coventry Mysteries (p. 343) all fall asleep. Note, however, Jack Snacker of Wytney (p. 417) who kept awake. 2 Otherwise Raphael appears as a priest, Gabriel as a herald with a wand, and Michael as a warrior (see Didron, p. 282). Among the list of relics given by King Athelstan to the monastery of Exeter we read De candcla quam Angelus domini in sepulchro Christi irradiarit (see Warren, Lcofric Missal, p. 4). The Resurrection was usually acted with great solemnity. Thus in the Frankfurt Play (S, p. 152) we read that in order "ut resurrectio Domini gloriosius cele- braretur " it may be deferred to the beginning of the second day's play — the Frankfurt was at that time a two days' play — that then the ' Dominica persona ' shall be clothed in "vestibus triumphalibus, videlicet subtili et dalmatico casulaque rubea circumdatus, habens coronam cum dyademate in capite et crucem cum vexilla in manu sua." In this play, as in the Oberammergauer (D, pp. 81-91), the Descent into Hell precedes the Resurrection, an unusual order, although that of the Apostles' Creed. 3 Besides my earlier references to representations of Christ with the resur- rection-banner (see p. 310), I may also cite the Schatzbehalter, Fig. 77 ; Hans Holbein's title-page to Coverdale's Bible, 1535 ; and a Besnrrection by the Elder Holbein (Munich, Pinakothek, No. 20). A distinction must always be made between the cross of the Passion and the banner-cross of the Resurrection (see Didron, Christian Iconography, p. 385). The cross of the Resurrection was and is usually carried in religious processions ; that of the Passion is suspended over altars, etc. In Gerard David's Fight of St. Michael with Hell it is Michael who bears the cross of the resurrection. 392 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y followed in the greater passion-plays by German trans- lations and expansions, but their presence suffices to indicate that the ultimate source of the scene is to be found in Church ritual. 1 The Descent into Hell follows instead of precedes the Kesurrection, probably to avoid the difficulty of the return to the sepulchre. This hell-scene usually opens with growing excitement among the patriarchs and pro- phets. They feel sure something is going to happen but do not know what. 2 Lucifer is much alarmed at their restlessness, and by the failure of Satan to bring back Christ's soul (p. 388). Happa or Puck 3 announces the approach of a ' Wildenaere,' who ' looks as if the world belonged to him.' Satan demands who this man in a red coat 4 may be. Lucifer screams with fear. The bolts of hell-gate are drawn ; the devils hasten to fetch their fire-forks, and on every side diabolic rage and con- sternation is depicted mingled with the broadest farce. As in the Church ritual 5 (see p. 296), the angels sing Tollite portas, etc., and Lucifer replies with the cor- responding Quis est iste rex gloriae ? The gate of hell is burst open, and the utmost confusion prevails as the 1 Compare the rituals of the Elevatio cruets given (G, pp. 123, 135) with I, p. 139 ; A, p. 114 ; and F, p. 282. 2 Gospel of Nicodemus, chap. xiv. et seq. Compare The Devil's Parliament, Furnival, Hymns to Virgin and Christ, E.E.T.S., p. 49. 3 In the Toionley Mysteries, Extractio Animarum, this demon is called Rybald. 4 The robe of the resurrection was always red {e.g. S, p. 152). Compare for example the thirteenth-century Descent into Hell in the Cologne Gallery (Xo. 38), and the painted woodcuts of the Schatzbehalter, 1491, Fig. 78. 5 There are traces of this ritual in the resurrection-play printed by Jubinal, Mysteres inidils, vol. ii. pp. 332 et seq. Here, instead of the Jesu nostra re- demptio, the Veni Creator spiritus is sung by the departing patriarchs. See also Toionley Mysteries, p. 246, for the Attolite portas, etc. THE CONTENTS OE THE PASSIONPLA Y 393 devils run screaming hither and thither. Christ lays chains upon Lucifer. 1 Adam and Eve greet their Saviour with joy, and the procession of patriarchs and prophets being formed, it departs singing Jesu, nostra redem'ptio.- Several comic incidents are introduced. A poor scholar, who instead of going to mass had lain about on the school-benches, expresses his joy at deliver- ance. Several damned souls appeal in vain for mercy ; they are pitchforked back into hell by the devils. Satan tries to retain one of the saved souls, — generally John the Baptist, because no one could desire to save so meanly clad a man, — but he meets, as usual, with discom- fiture. When Christ has departed, and the devils have recovered their presence of mind, they take counsel as to the restocking of hell, and then follow the soul-lists and the dance of devils to which I have referred above (p. 340). 3 On a par with the defeat of the devils is 1 Besides the passion-play references to the chaining of Lucifer, we may note the miniatures of the Cccdmon Codex, reproduced with much other information hy G. Stephens in his Northern Mythology, 1883, pp. 333 et scq., 338, 384, etc. See also Legends of the Holy Hood, E.E.T.S., p. 5 ; Old English Miscellany, E.E.T.S., p. 67 ; Jubinal, Mystercs inklits, vol. ii. p. 294 ; Townley Mysteries, pp. 251, 252 (" Kay, tratur, thou shall won in wo, And tille a stake I shall the bynde"). St. Michael's chaining and locking up the Devil will be found in Albrecht Durer's Apocalypse ; in Scheifelin's cuts to Schonsperger's reproduc- tion in 1523 of Luther's New Testament, etc. The binding of the Devil and his supposed loosing after a thousand years are, slight as they may seem, the keys to much of mediaeval thought. The solutio diaboli occurred about the twelfth century, and was notably the basis of Wyclif's attack on Rome. " Bifore the fend was losid " all went well ; post solutionem Sathanae all heresies had arisen (see Trialogus, ed. Lechler, pp. 153, 249 ; Select Works, ed. Arnold, vol. i. p. 153, and vol. iii. p. 502). The notion was of course adopted by Has. " Post millenarium soluto Satana," he writes in his De Ecclcsia, cap. xxiii. \>. 221, ed. 1520. 2 There is a characteristic representation of this procession in the Schatz- behalter, Fig. 79. All the redeemed are nude, as appears to have been the case on the passion-play stage : see p. 330. 3 See B, vol. ii. pp. 42-57 ; H, vol. ii. p. 68 ; A, p. 116 ; F, pp. 286-293 ; C, pp. 222-230 ; L, vol. ii. p. 303 ; D, pp. 81-91 : I, p. 141. 394 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y the confusion of the ' knights ' at the sepulchre. They awake to find the tomb open, and, accusing each other of having fallen asleep, come to blows. Running to announce the news to Caiaphas, they are mocked by his wife, or cudgelled by the indignant Jews. Sometimes, having been witnesses of the resurrection, they declare themselves believers in Christ. Ultimately, however, they are bribed to hold their tongues, or to swear that the disciples stole the body. 1 We have now reached the portion of the play which corresponds to the Easter ritual of the three Maries (p. 299), but the germs of the humorous, which we noted even in the Church plays, have now developed into the broadest farce. The medicine-man comes proclaiming his own merits and his want of a servant. Rubin, a scamp of the same stamp, obtains the post, but he hires in his turn the devil ' Lasterbalk ' as an understrapper to carry the quack's pack. The action proceeds with the coarsest folk-humour, mingled with cudgelling and love-making, for the medicine-man has a wife and she has a maid. Rubin alternately cries the merits of his master's goods and the knavery of his master. The three Maries are attracted by his cries and come to buy spices. The medicine-man determines to swindle them ; his wife thinks he has not charged them enough (or has charged them too much), and this leads to blows and a drubbing for the lady. She declares she will be revenged, and after the departure of the Maries, while the medicine- man is dozing, she elopes with his knave Rubin. The 1 See B, vol. ii. p. 346 ; A, p. 116 ; D, p. 156 ; L, vol. ii. p. 312, etc. ; Jubinal, La insurrection du Sauveur, Paris, 1834, pp. 16-18 ; Xpurros Trdtxx^f 11. 2270 et seq. THE CONTENTS OF THE PASS10NPLA Y 395 coarseness of both language and action can frequently only be paralleled from the unrestrained license of the fifteenth -century carnival -plays. In striking incon- gruity with it all are the Latin verses of the Church ritual still retained for the three Maries' parts. 1 The key to this mixture of the grotesque and sacred must not onlv be sought in a reaction following on the strain of the crucifixion scenes, but also in the influence of the strolling scholars to which we have referred above (p. 304). Their brilliant, but often ribald, songs did not hesitate to parody the events and language of Scripture. 2 When once the scholars had inserted the thin end of the wedge, the folk were but too delighted to drive it home. The visit of the three Maries to the sepulchre follows closely the old Church ritual, the Latin responses being- translated and expanded. 3 The scene with the gardener has, however, been developed in a curious direction. The Hortulartus reproaches the women with being out at such an early hour in the garden, it is not proper for them to be out alone ; besides which, they are treading down his grass and flowers ! The recognition takes place as in the Easter ritual. 4 Then Mary the Magdalen 1 See L, vol. ii. p. 313 ; C, p. 236 ; I, p. 39 ; A, p. 123 ; S, pp. 153-155. 2 It is not only a parody of ecclesiastics and their doings, but also of matters very sacred in those days ; see, for example, the Offieium Lusorum, which, with many other ribald verses, occurs in the Carmina Burana alongside religious dramas and poems. 3 Thus in La Passion cle nostre Seigneur {Mysttves inedits, vol. ii. pp. 296-303) the Magdalen sings the Jesu redemptor omnium, and the Beata nobis gaudia (Mone, Lateinische Hijmnen, No. 183). There are also traces of the Die nobis Maria of the ritual (p. 309). The mercator (I'espicier) is in this French play very polite, and the only touch of humour is a somewhat lengthy list which he gives of his drugs (pp. 300, 301). The medieval treatment of the visit to the sepulchre may be profitably compared with that of the Xptcrros irdcrxw (lb 1941-2125). 4 See F, p. 309 ; I, p. 76 ; A, p. 140 ; C, p. 244. 396 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y meets John and Peter and we have, if not the whole, at least the last strophe of the Easter sequence Victimae paschali. 1 The two disciples are not to be convinced, and wax derisive. They determine, however, to in- vestigate the matter for themselves. John bets a pair of new shoes, Peter a sword, that he will arrive first at the sepulchre ; or it may be that the wager is a horse against a cow. Peter trips up on the way, grows angry, quarrels with John, and curses the manner in which he has been created, which prevents him from running like an ordinary mortal. If he has to limp after John, at least he can drink better, and he takes a pull at the flask, which John noticing cries out : — Ach Petri das stet nit wol Du weist wol das icli auch trincken sol. 2 Arrived at the tomb, they return exhibiting the burial linen. Then follow the appearances of Christ to his disciples, 3 the incident of the unbelieving Thomas, and 1 The Die nobis Maria, quid vidisti in via (Kehrein, Latcinischc Sequenzen, No. 83). Compare Jubinal, Mysteres inldits, vol. ii. p. 364. 2 F, pp. 317-319 ; I, p. 87 ; L, vol. ii. p. 334 ; S, p. 156. In Stubbes' And- tomie, cited by Furnival (Digby Plays, p. x.), we read: — In some place solemne sights and showes, and pageants fayre are played, As where the Maries three do meete the sepulchre to see, And John with Peter swiftly runnes, before him there to bee. 3 See C, p. 246, etc., and compare Xptoros iraaxw, 1. 2504. Sometimes the apostles at this stage compose the Creed, each a sentence (see F, p. 149 ; A, p. 25 ; and compare King's History of the Apostles' Creed, p. 26). As I have before noted (p. 379), the subject was a favourite one. The twelve apostles are sculptured, each with his portion of the Creed, in the Liebfrauen- kirche at Trier (fourteenth century). There is a block-book representation, the words in French at Paris, and another at Munich with the words in German. In the latter each apostle is accompanied by a prophet, and both have a scene rejiresenting the particular item of belief associated with the apostle placed above them. The whole block-book bears considerable resemblance to a Biblia Pauperum (see p. 265). A different mode of exhibiting the matter is SUMMARY AND CONCLUSION 397 possibly the Ascension, 1 the sending of the Holy Ghost, the Death and the Assumption of the Virgin, and the Day of Judgment.' 2 Finally the Conclusor would point the moral of the whole play, and draw attention to the complete triumph of Christ. Then, with the hymn of the Eesurrection, Christ ist erstanden ! in which all the spectators joined, the three days' drama would be brought to its conclusion. Such is the great folk passion-play of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. IX. — Summary and Conclusion The reader who has followed the author through at least a portion of the mass of detail with which the Middle Ages enriched the gospel story, will be, even if he has made no further studies, in a position to appre- ciate fairly mediaeval life and feeling. He will realise that more may be gained from the religious dramas than amusement at their naivete. As we do not merely smile at the stories of the Greek gods, but study their adopted in the SchatzbcJicdter (fol. viii.) The twelve apostles are each given a joint of the fingers of a left hand, while Christ and the Virgin occupy the thumb. Down the side of the woodcut the Creed is divided among the apostles. Compare also fol. S. vi. In the Coventry Mysteries (Descent of the Holy Ghost) there is a curious identification of each apostle with a different character or virtue. 1 A curious stage-direction for the Ascension occurs in the Frankfurt play (S, p. 157): "dominica persona precedat discipulos et veniens ad paradysuni accepto vexillo sumat animas et dirigat viam versus locum ubi volet ascendere. Animae vero indutis vestibus albis sequantur Dominum cantantes : Summi triumphi re, usque veniant ad gradus ubi debent ascendere. Sit autem thronus ubi Majestas sedeat excellens et altus satis et tantae latitudinis ut animas comode possit capere, Habens etiam gradus quibus comode talis altitudo scandatur." 2 See C, pp. 248-253 ; H, vol. ii. pp. 106-115. Often as separate plays, see B, vol. i. pp. 254, 273. 398 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLAY evolution and their legends in order to appreciate a great literature, a greater philosophy, and the highest development of plastic art, so we must study the mediaeval gods even in their smallest details, if we would master the spirit of another great literature, another great philosophy, and the highest development of pictorial art the world has known. Nay, if the Hellenist smiles at you, reader, say boldly that you will set your Dante against his Homer, that St. Thomas was not more arid than his Aristotle, that your Zeitblom and Diirer were as great creative artists as his Praxiteles and Pheidias ; nay, that he who built the Parthenon would have stood speechless and as a little child before the minster at Strasburg, or the cathedral at Cologne. Take that Hellenist through the streets and courtyards of Niirnberg or Augsburg, and give back to them the colour and incident of the folk-life of 500 years ago, — and if he be an artist by nature, he will hesitate to give the palm to Periclean Athens, even if the sigh of her slaves has not caught his ear. He will find the same religious folk-festivals, the processions, the music, the song, and the dance. He will find art in the service of the people, at the street corners, in the religious build- ings, at the altars of the gods, in the civic buildings, the assembly halls, the market, the meeting and dance- places of the guilds. He will mark joyous marriage- feasts, and the bride led with torches through the streets ; there will be maidens with fine raiment, and youths in brightly-woven doublets with daggers hang- ing from their girdles, wrought in wondrous fashion by never-surpassed metal-workers ; S UMMA RY AND CONCL US ION 399 evda fiev I'jtOiob ko.1 irapdkvot d\e(r tfioiai wpXevvT, dAA?yA.oji' ewl Kapiru) ^eipas e^ovTes. There, too, he will see priests in gorgeous apparel leading with choral song the procession, which bears marvellously- wrought caskets and delicately -woven pictures worth a king's ransom. He will observe that the Ecclesia and the Agora have new meanings, but are none the less centres of as intense and picturesque a folk-life as they ever were in Athens. He may hear the clash of arms, and see the men, ' goodly and great in their armour,' standing on the city walls to defend wife and child and home. Or he may be jostled by the crowd as it hastens in holiday garb and humour to see its great drama performed on the wooden scaffolding, such as iEschylus himself had used ; and he will note that the gods are there on the stage as they were among the Greeks, and that neither folk will hesitate to laugh at the expense of its deities. Nay, if the Hellenist stays to examine further, he will find the same minute traditions concern- ing each religious and social custom ; he will find each action of civic, of economic, and of religious life re- gulated with the same surprising detail that he has already marvelled at and gloried in when he studied the art and social life of Greece. Then he will begin to realise that he is watching the development of two closely -allied races, with somewhat different environ- ments, it is true, but none the less with the same fundamental folk -instincts, namely, to make religion and art go hand-in-hand, and both of them heritages of the people. It matters not whether the art be Doric or Gothic, be sculpture or painting, be passion-play or 4 oo THE GERMAN PASS10N-PLA Y Dionysian tragedy ; it is not of significance whether the religion be that of Olympia and Hades, or of the mediaeval Heaven and Hell. The outward forms have indeed changed, but the inner spirit is the same. In both cases an immortal art was evolved by the inspira- tion of a great popular religion ; and those who term the Middle Ages ' dark ages,' only demonstrate that in their ignorance they are neglecting as great a factor of culture as Hellenism itself. They are thrusting aside in blind prejudice a large portion of the birthright which man of the centuries past has won for man of the centuries to come. That the Eenascence should have taught men to understand Greek thought was wholly gain, that it should have caused them to depise the Middle Ages was wholly loss. We, to-day, have surely confidence enough in our emancipation from superstition to strive to appreciate both. 1 We are no more likely to worship again the gods of the Middle Ages, than to worship the gods of Greece. The science of comparative religion has a task beyond that of comparing the various religious institu- tions which have arisen among different races subject to different environments. It has to deal with the changing characters of the same religion as the people who profess it develop ; it has to deal with the same religion as it is differently moulded by different races. This is not merely a study of churches, of councils, and 1 Why should the schoolboy of to-day know the terms for all parts of the Homeric ship, hut be ignorant of those for the parts of a Gothic cathedral ? Why should a statue of Athene be enriched by his knowledge of the details of her worship, but a picture of the Virgin be unhallowed by a knowledge of the poetry of her processions, offices, and hymns ? S UMMA R V AND CONCL US ION 40 1 of theological dogmas. For the student of comparative religion there is more useful material in the Zeitglocklin, or in Geiler von Kaisersberg's sermons, than in all the protocols and confessions of Worms, Speyer, and Augsburg taken together. The main problems which need investigation are : What was the view of religion held at any time by the great masses of the people ? and : How did the religious conceptions of the people influence their social and civic life ? The Christianity of the ninth-century Saxon, as represented in the Hdmnd, is wholly different in spirit from the Christianity of the mediaeval burgher, as represented in a great folk passion- play, and their religions influenced their lives in a wholly different way. The passage from the one to the other marks the spiritual growth of the Germanic race, and no small light is thrown on the history of that growth by the genesis and evolution of the religious drama. The missionaries brought their religion and sought to force it on the German people ; they branded as devilish all the old heathen festivals, the religious dances and the ancient marriage rites, thus unwittingly creat- ing all the deep mediaeval feeling as to witchcraft. But the folk-spirit was not to be thus repressed ; it danced into the churches ; it took Christianity out of the hands of the priests ; it moulded it to its own ideas, and shaped it to that wonderful artistic polytheism of which the nominal founder never dreamed, and which would have been sternly repudiated by the early Christian teachers. 1 The passion-plays would be singularly 1 Some few Buddhist ascetics in Ceylon may still hold the faith of their great teacher, but Gautama would not recognise his own child in the folk-religions of Siam and Burmah. VOL. II 2 D 402 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLA Y instructive if their study taught us this one fact only, namely, that the evolution of religion depends on the tendencies of the great masses of the people ; their aspirations, their needs, their education deter- mine its course, which is only in a very slight degree guided or checked by the influence of a sacerdotal caste. There is another striking lesson, however, to be learnt from a study of Medievalism, a lesson which it shares with Hellenism. If religion is to give birth to a great art and to be a centre of social and civic enthusiasm, it must be a religion of festival, of great folk-gatherings, of ceremonial ritual, of the drama, and if possible of song and dance. 1 The religious festival brings all classes of the community together on a common ground ; it unites for a time high and low in the same pleasure ; and the feelings of fellowship and of identity of pursuits, so necessary for the permanency of any social group, are thereby materially strengthened. The religious drama of the Middle Ages was an outcome of mediaeval religious and civic socialism, and with the growth of theological and economic individualism it necessarily decayed. When the passion-plays were employed as instruments of controversial theology ; when the monk appeared on the stage in order to be dragged off to hell, and little children came to Christ prattling of the true gospel of Wittenberg and of the Antichrist at Rome, then these plays became sources of social discord, and not the 1 Herein at once lies the justification and the futility of the great festivals of humanity proposed by Comte. They are justified, because every religion needs folk-festivals ; they are futile, because they are the artifice of a priest, and not a natural product of an individual people. SUMMARY AND CONCLUSION 403 occasion of true folk -holidays. 1 Then it was time for good and evil to be swept away together, and the people ceased to have any genuine religious festivals. But there is something more to be learnt from these plays than sympathy with one of the world's great art- epochs, or than the social value of a communal holiday. I refer to their educative influence on the craftsman. If a man has once realised that he is not working solely for bread and butter, but that he is an essential part of the social machine, which would stand still without him, then he has received not only the best education in self- respect, but also in the dignity of his own labour. I cannot now enter upon the consideration of what a vast influence for good the system of guilds exercised so long as* the old religious socialistic spirit was the chief factor in its organisation, — until, indeed, the growth of religious and economic individualism converted what remained of them after the Reformation into craft monopolies under the control of a limited number of families. Was a fire to be put out, the wall of the town to be defended, 1 Besides the mass of anti-Roman Catholic sixteenth-century plays in Germany of which those of Bartholomaus Kriiger, and Nicholas Manuel may be taken as a type, I may refer to John Bale's Brefe Conudy or Enterlnde of Johau Baptystes preachyngc in the wyldernesse, openynge the craftyc assaultes of the hypocrytes, with the gloryouse Baptysme of the Lorde Jesus Christ, 1538. The hypocrites are of course popish priests, the Pharisees and Sadducees represent papists, and the whole epilogue is directed against the Catholics. John Bale's A Tragedy . . . manyfesting the chefc piromyses of God, unto man . . ., 1538, exhibits the same polemic in the epilogue. Even Edward VI. is reputed to have written a comedy entitled The Whore of Babylon. As a sample of polemic from the other side I may mention the Seebrucker Play Der lustige Jud von Amsteldam. Here the Jew bids the Pastor march to Munich and pay for the sausages Martin Luther and his Katie have devoured in hell (R, p. 142). There is a story that Luther once forgot at Munich to pay the ' Koch in der Holl ' for a sausage he had eaten there. Hone {Ancient Mysteries, pp. 225-227) gives the names of a number of English controversial religious plays. 404 THE GERMAN PASS10N-PLA Y a church to be restored or a side-chapel built, was a pageant to be held or a passion-play acted, then the craft -guilds and the journeymen brotherhoods were always to the fore. In many cases the craftsmen and journeymen were members of the civic body in virtue of their craft — because they belonged to craft -guild or brotherhood. The artisan of those days could spend his holiday not only in amusing himself, but in giving pleasure to the community at large. The passion-play may seem to some modern tastes a very crude drama, but in those days rich and poor, literate and illiterate, great and small, man, woman and child flocked to the market- place to enjoy the representation of the great world- drama which the craftsmen put before them. The members of the guilds realised that they were needful parts of the social system ; the artisan was conscious of his position and proud of it. Are there any labour organisations nowadays which are equally rich in result for the workman, and equally profitable to the community ? When do our craftsmen spend their leisure in providing amusement for a whole town ? Where is the folk-festival, religious or social, which brings all sorts and conditions of men together in the pursuit of a common pleasure ? I fear our modern life knows nothing of these things. Individualism, economic and intellectual, has greatly assisted the mental and possibly the material progress of Europe, but it has widened immensely the gulf between the various social grades. They no longer have the same pleasures ; they have hardly a common religion ; they have no understanding for the same art, and are scarcely SUMMARY AND CONCLUSION 405 able to read the same books. The thought and the education of the mediaeval craftsmen were not widely diverse from those of other social groups. Albrecht Diirer was a craftsman, and his wife sold his woodcuts on the market-place. Ambrose Holbein and probably his greater brother were members of the " Zunft zum Himmel," a guild containing the painters, glaziers, saddlers, and barbers of Basel. 1 Luther and his opponent Eck were both peasants' sons. Yet these men were able to grasp the thought and feeling of their day, while they remained essentially of their own class. None of their contemporaries thought of referring to them as exceptions who had ' risen from the ranks ' to be leaders of men. If the old socialistic mediaeval system with its guilds of craftsmen made social life more homogeneous, we may perhaps hesitate to approve of the spirit of the Reformers, who, rinding them centres of Catholic superstition, did much to weaken or destroy what they should rather have reformed. 2 As in the case of the monasteries, the guild funds too often dropped into the private purse of prince or noble. With the actors went the drama, of which it has been well written that — Such an age as ours will not understand the good which in a moral and social point of view was bestowed upon this country by the religious pageants, and pious plays and interludes of a bygone epoch. Through such means, however, not only were the working- classes furnished with a needful relaxation, but their very merry- makings instructed while they diverted them. 3 1 That the greatest painters of the Middle Ages were looked upon as craftsmen is well shown by the letters of Erasmus (see Woltmann's Holbein, p. 317). 2 Toulmin Smith, English Gilds, Introduction, p. xc. 3 Rock, Church of our Fathers, vol. ii. p. 418. 406 THE GERMAN PASSION-PLAY These lines are even truer of Germany than of England, and at least in Germany the religious pageants and plays ' instructed ' an unsurpassed school of painters and engravers. Is the moral of this Essay, then, a Restoration — a resuscitation of the guilds and a return to the religious faith of the Middle Ages ? Assuredly not. The people in each age must work out its own salvation. No preachers nor teachers can renew the vitality of a dead art, a dead religion, or a dead economic system. The folk must create anew for itself, and the best that the cultured men of each age can do is to lighten the throes of birth. They may put the dumb folk-thought into words, and give artistic expression to the new folk- ideals. They may help to guide new labour organisa- tions to a sense of their social responsibility ; they may assist in converting trades-processions into civic pageants and mass-meetings into folk-festivals. They may aid the tendencies of the time to level down in wealth and to level up in knowledge. But after all it is the folk which must rise to self-consciousness. Then perhaps it may come about that those social instincts, which are in truth more intense to-day than in Athens, Jerusalem, or Nurnberg of old, will cease to be so diverse and confused in expression as they are now ; they will find one watch- word to arouse all classes of the community ; then and not till then will anything worthy of the name of a folk- religion be possible, then and not till then can a great religious festival be again a reality. APPENDIX I THE 'MAILEHN' AND 'KILTGANG' I have pointed out (p. 24) the importance of the Mailehn as a fossil of the old sex -customs. An extremely interesting phase of it appears in a visitation of the diocese Speyer of the year 1683, cited by Mone, Schauspiele des MUtdalters, Bd. ii. p. 373. We read that a village called Eheinsheim had an abusus in juventute mit dem Lehntgen-rufen, quod fit hoc modo. Con- venit juventus utraque una cum civibus et quotquot possunt domo abesse ad ingressum in silvam, ubi duo designati duas ascendunt arbores, sibi invicem respondentes, aliis sub illis haerentibus. Fitque hoc loci pridie sancti Georgii, quando horum unus altissima voce incipit in hunc modum : Hbret ihr burger iiberall was gebeutet euch des Kbnigs lioclnviirdiger Marschall : was er gebeut und das soil seyn ; Hauss Clausen soil Margrethen Lois Buliler seyn drey Schritt ins Korn und drey wieder beraus liber ein Jabr gebet es ein Braut ins Haus. Hac ratione omnibus solutis, tarn viduis quam aliis suum assignant procum, et saepe non absque gravi laesione famae et causa gravium dissidiorum, immo turpitudinum, cum procus teneatur illam curare in symposiis saltu, etc., ilia suo proco offerre flores, etc. We have clearly here a fossil of the old sex-festival — the evening gathering in the woods for the choice of temporary mates. St. George's Day is 23rd April, but the Mailehn in many parts occurred on 1st May. The reference to the Kiinigs Marschall is hardly an original feature ; it probably refers to the custom by which, in the early 4 o8 APPENDIX I Middle Ages, the Kaiser sent a herald to announce to the daughter of a burgher of one of the imperial towns that he proposed to give her in marriage to one of his retinue. Very frequently the Mailehn took the form of an auction of the girls of the village, the money obtained being spent on their enter- tainment with food and on dance-music. It is noteworthy that at St. Goar the money itself went into the town-chest, and the auction took place in the Rathhaus (Kriegk, Deutsches Biirgerthum im Mittel- alter, p. 420) ; it is thus clear that we are dealing with a fossil of what was once a communal sex-festival. The use of the term buhler in the Mailehn verses cited above is also very suggestive. Biihli, fastenbuhli, or their equivalents are used almost throughout Germany either for the May-brides or for partners chosen for the year, or at least for the great spring-festivals and for Kirmes. It is precisely this word, however, which we have noted as used for the old sexual group of lovers (p. 222). It is still a widely current term for a pair of dancers, and Grimm cites a most valuable bit of folklore from Holland, which brings together the primitive significance of the Mailehn Avith the old sexual group weight of both buhl and/ri (see pp. 167, 222). It runs : — menich vroukin sprekt in schimpe tot enen jonghen gheckelin, "vrient, du moets min boelkin sin desen mei ende langher niet." Worterbuch, ii. 506. The gheck, or sommergheck, is equivalent to the heelghesel or secret lover. As if to complete the picture of the May-brides with their tem- porary lovers, their common feast and dancing, the Vergaderung in the woods, we have also the selection of the May queen, a fossil of the old worship of the goddess of fertility. A thirteenth-century work of Aegidius (cited in Grimm's Mythologie, ii. p. 657) describes the custom of the May queen in the Netherlands in the twelfth century : — Sacerdotes ceteraeque ecclesiasticae personae cum universo populo in solemnitatibus paschae et pentecostes aliquam ex sacerdotum concubinis pur- puratam ac diadematerenitentem in eminentiori solioconstitutam et cortinis velatam reginam creabant, et coram ea assistentes in ehoreis tympanis et aliis musicalibus instrumentis tota die psallebant, et quasi idolatrae effecti ipsam tanquam idolum colebant. THE 'MAILEHN* AND ' KILTGANG' 409 Here we see the May queen no longer as a chaste maiden, but as the " woman in scarlet seated on a high place." As representa- tive of a Myletta — a goddess of fertility — she is worshipped by the whole populace, and her cantica diabolica, the winnasonge, for a time carry the very priests of the new faith along in the spirit of the old heathen sex-festivals. Closely allied to the summer Mailehn is the Kilt gang. This meeting at night of the young folk of both sexes is again singularly suggestive of the old group habits. On the one side it has de- generated into the slipping of the Bna or Bursch secretly to his sweetheart's window — whence the Swiss proverb that " one does not go in wooden shoes to kilt " ; on the other, Ave find the word denoting a series of festive winter gatherings in the Spinnstube. The Bursch might be received at the window favourably or un- favourably. The maid might not reply to his song or entreaties at all ; she might abuse him ; she might hand him bread or wine from the window, or she might admit him into her chamber. The fenstem, gdsslein gen, z'chilt gd, Swabian fugen, was certainly not such an innocent pastime as some writers have tried to persuade us. It was a visit not only to the window, but inside the chamber, and numerous mediaeval police regulations and sermons show us that it was strongly disapproved of by both the civil and religious authorities. Now it is singular that the name for this night-visit should also be used for village winter meetings of maids and youths in the Spinnstube (Kunkelstube, Karz, etc.) These meetings, owing to the license which accompanied or followed them, were also looked upon with suspicion, and even subject to police supervision. 1 Thus, "welche auch ohn erlaubnis ein korz oder gunkelstuben halten bei nachtlicher weile, soil des biiszen mit eim mittelfrevel " (Schmid, Schicabisches Idioticon, p. 220). The Kilt or Kelte is essen- tially a night-gathering for games, talk, and possibly work. The 1 In Blaubcuren the Lichtstuben for both sexes were forbidden ; the watch- man or constable had to report them, and fines of three to four florins were im- posed on all found present at one. Elsewhere the housewife was made responsible for the good behaviour of the assembly. In 1642 Ave find a Swabian regulation that only women shall be present, and that the meetings shall be held in respectable houses, for they had in the past been associated with places and hostesses of bad fame. In 1652 we have another ducal order forbidding the abuses known as the Kunkelhiiuscr and Itockenstuben altogether. Clearly their frequenters were little better than the compulsory inmates of the old university spinning-houses in England. 4io APPENDIX I kitten for the season always ends with a feast, the Kiltbraten, and a special feature of the Kilt is the propounding of riddles, 1 which reminds us of the part riddles play in the f eastern and at marriage and sex-festivals. Very often food is brought to the Kunkelstube, and the young men then pay for the beer ; each maid has her Kunkelheber, who, like the Mai or Kirmes lover, is specially attached to her for the season. At the Kittbraten, or Letze, as it is called in the Rottenberg district, there is, besides the feast provided by a general contribution and the beer provided by the lads, a dance which lasts late into the night. It is clear that in the Kilt or Kun- kelstube we have all the elements of the old Mrat or mahal, the common feast, the dance, and the sex-freedom. Were these merely an outcome of coarse peasant natures, or survivals of older social customs 1 I do not think there can be a doubt that we have fossils of the old endogamous group institutions. In Swabia, especially in the Ulm district, the Kilt was termed Haierloss. This word is identified with fenstem and gasslein gen, but also with the Kiltgang as Kunkelstube. The sixteenth and seventeenth century preachers were very strong against it, classing it with shameful songs, music and other devilish pastimes. Now in M.H.G. heierleis, heierles is a choral dance. It appears as heigertanz in Geiler von Kaisersberg's sermons, where we find that the performers take hands as in a country dance. Now I have no hesitation in connecting this word with the root hi or hig (p. 127). It certainly did not arise, as Lexer (JFurterbuch, i. 1210) supposes, from the cries of heia / How, in that case, explain the form heig ? Xo, we have here simply the old choral dance of the sex-festival, the hileih (pp. 132, 133) over again, the los or his being only the lais form of leich. If we once grasp this relationship of the Kunkelstuben to the old hileih, the numerous police regulations against them become intelligible ; 2 we then understand why the Pfarrer of Depshofen reported in 1625 the great immorality among the young people at the Gungelhuuser held at night ; why the Pfarrer Gaisser in his 1 One Kiltfragc runs : ""What is the difference between a dear soul and a poor soul (Liebcnseele and Armenseele) ? " i.e. between a sweetheart and the soul of the dead. "With the former one puts the candles out, for the latter one lights them." 2 For very full information on this and other points, see Birlinger, Volk- thiimliches aus Schwaben, 1862, Bd. ii. pp. 431 et scq., and Aus Schwaben, Neuc Sammlung, 1874, Bd. ii. pp. 356 et seq. THE ' MAILEHN ' AND ' KIL TGANG ' 411 Noah's Ark of 1693 speaks of the "Tanzen und andern Kunkel- stuben " destroying all Christian integrity, and condemns their inrproper tales, songs and ribald actions ; why indeed an old devotional book of about 1750 tells us that no maids of good character frequent them, for the talk is unkeusch, the dancing//"/', and the singing consists of BuMHeder — a reminiscence, indeed, of the mnileod, which had troubled the Christian teachers nearly a thousand years before ! The same book tells us that many Kunkel- stuben can hardly be distinguished from Hexenzusamrnenlcunfften, and that in judicial proceedings women and maids have frequently confessed that it was in the Kunkelstuben that they were made witches. We have, in fact, the full identification of the old htleih, the Hext n- mahl and the Kilt, — one and all are fossils of the old sex-festival. The ribald dances of the Kunkelstube are not merely an outburst of coarse peasant natures, they are a fossil of the worship of the old goddess of fertility. As if to complete the round of feast, choral-dance, sex-festival, judicial assembly, we find the Kunkelstube identified in the devo- tional work just referred to with the Heimgarten. The HeimgarU n gehen is exactly equivalent to the Kiltgang in its double sense of the private rendezvous and the gathering of maids and youths in the Kmikdstube or Uochstube. 1 In a confessional book of 1693, quoted by Birlinger, the penitent says, "Ich habe gebult, ich hab gehostubet, ich hab gehaimgartet, ich bin zu einem Mligdlein gangen." We find, in 1618, HaiuKjarten glossed conventiculum amicorum sen vicinorum, and in police orders it is identified with Kunkelstube. The priests describe going to dances and Heimgarten as snares of the devil. Now in a gloss to Prudentius given by Graff (Diutiska, Bd. ii. p. 34-7), we find /ore, heimgart, and there can be little doubt that the original sense of the word is hedged-in or fenced place, the hag (p. 128). It is just such a fenced-in place that we have seen was the scene of the primitive judicial assembly, and the origin of forum, agora and maltal. But just as in the latter cases we have seen a relation to the sex-gathering, so we find gart glossed both chorus and leno- cinium, while Hayngarten is dance, conventicle, Kunkelstube, and also the site of the judicial gathering. The Haingarten was the fenced place of the imperial tribunal at Rotweil, and the last Hofgericht was 1 See inter "I in the Kundl Dorfordnung in Die tirolischen Weisthiimer, Bd. ii. pp. 361, 362. 412 APPENDIX I held in the Haingarten in 1784. The court, according to the Zim- mersche Chronik (ed. Barack, Bd. ii. p. 306), was held under a linden tree, and the Lindengart, wherein the Hofgericht was always opened and ended, was termed the Haimgarten. The reader who remembers the dance of the Landvogt under the linden tree (p. 155 ftn.), the peasant dances under the linden, the betrothal kiss under the linden (p. 84), the gart as chorus and lenocinium, will be prepared to see in the Haingarten the site of the old sex-festival, developing on the one hand into peasant customs, and on the other into judicial cere- monies. The Kiltganrj and Haingarten are but other phases of the same ideas as we have found associated with hileih, mahal, and Hexensabbath. The philological connection of Kilt with A.S. cveld, O.N. Jcveld, Danish Jcvceld, evening, seems to me by no means so definite and clear as some writers hold. The references in which Kilt can be taken as simply denoting eveningtide are very hard to find ; they can equally well be referred to the Spinnstube or the night-visit. The evening gathering may itself have introduced the notion of evening into Kilt. The one strong point on the other side is the appearance of the word chwiltkverch in a document of 817. It runs : — Ut servi et ancillae conjugati et in mansis manentes tributa et vehenda et opera vel texturas seu functiones quaslibet dimidia faciunt, excepto aratura ; puellae vero infra salam manentes tres opus ad vestrum et tres sibi faciant dies, et hoc, quod alamanni chwiltiwerch dicunt, non faciant. This might well denote an early prohibition of night spinning, which we have seen associated with the Kilt meetings — even the witch takes her distaff to the bacchanalian Hexenmahl — it does not seem to me to necessarily connect Kilt with cveld. Bemembering the probable sense of womb in ivif and of gathering in ping, we may possibly identify the Kiltgang with the ivtfping, and both ultimately with the Hexen, or wood-women, going with their distaves and spindles to the Hexenmahl In this case the primitive value of Kilt must be sought in Gothic kilpei, the womb, Swedish dialect Hlta, Icelandic kelta, the lap, and Lithuanian Iciltis, kin, race (kunni). The Kiltgang would thus, in philology as well as in folklore, be the Vergaderung. P. 413. Extract Anno 1534. For "A play of Placy Dacy alias S r Ewe Stacy," read " A play of Placidas alias St. Eustace." [To face p. 413. APPENDIX II ENGLISH SIXTEENTH -CENTURY CHURCH-PLAYS There is probably much still to be gleaned concerning the religious drama in England even as late as the sixteenth century. The chief sources of information will be the churchwardens' accounts in rural parishes. As illustration of this, I print in this appendix most in- teresting entries from the accounts for two small Essex towns, copies of which I owe to the courtesy of Mrs. Sydney Courtauld, of Booking Place, Braintree, and Mr. Fred. Chancellor, Mayor of Chelmsford. A. Extracts from a copy of the Accounts of the Church of St. Michael, Braintree. Anno 1523. A Play of S 1 Swythyn, acted in the Church on a Wednes- day, for which was gathered 6 : 14 : Hi; P d at the said Play, 3:1:4; due to the Church, 3:13:7^. Anno 1525. There was a Play of S* Andrew acted in the Church the Sunday before Relique Sunday ; Rc d , 8:9:6; P d , 4 : 9 : 9 ; Due to the Church, 3:19 : 8. Anno 1529. A Play in Halstead Church. Ann. 23 H viii. Jn° Payne, Ld. of Misrule, and his company. A guile of S' John. Anno 1534. 1 A play of Placy Dacy alias S l Ewe Stacy. R d , 14:17 :6i ; P d , 6 : 13 : 7i ; due, 8:2 : 8i. Anno 1567. R d of the Play money, 5:0:0. Anno 1570. Rec d of the Play money, 9:7:7; and for letting the Playing garments, 0:1 : 8. Anno 1571. Rc d for a Playbook, 20 d ; and for lending the Playgere, 8 : 7 d . This year the Plague in Braintree. Anno 1579. Sold 3 curtains for 6:4; and for the Players Apparel, 50 s . These extracts show us that plays were given in the Essex churches up to 1525, and in connection with them, and most 1 From 1533 to 1537 the well - known Nicholas Udall, author of the play of Holster Doister, was vicar of Braintree. 4 i 4 APPENDIX II probably inside them, up to 1570. The players' apparel was sold off in 1579, very near the time it was sold at Chelmsford. B. Extracts from the Accounts of the Churchwardens of Chelmsford. The old accounts of the Churchwardens of Chelmsford commence in 1557. The first Inventory of Church goods is dated 21st July 1560, and are arranged under the following heads : — Coopes, Vestements, Clothes belongynge to the high aulter and the frunte of redd velvet, Latten, Lynnen, Bookes, Pewter belonging to y e Church, Plate sold by y e Churchwardens, — but it is difficult to say which of the various items enumerated were used in the services of the Church and which for other purposes. On the 27th February 1563 another Inventory was made, and in this a distinction was apparently draAvn between items used for the Church and for other purposes, as, after enumerating the former, there follows under the head of " Garments " the following (remarks in brackets being additions probably of later date) : — Item fyrst iiij gwones of red velvet. ,, a longe gowne of blew velvet. ,, a short gowne of blew velvet. ,, a gowne of blacke velvet (very much worne). ,, ij gownes of red satten, one much shorter than the other. ,, a gowne of borders. ,, a gowne of clothe of Tyshew. ,, a jerky n of blew velvet with sieves. „ a jerkyii of borders w'out sieves. ,, viii jerkyns w'mit sieves (one wanted). ,, ij vyces coates, and ij scalpes, ij daggers (1 dagger wanted). ,, v prophets cappes (one wantinge). ,, vi capes of furre, and one of velvet (one of these on the gownes). ,, iij jeyrkyns, iij nappes for devils, ij payer gloves. ,, iiij shepehoks, iiij whyppes (but one gone). ,, a red gowne of saye (Iron axxe . . . new). ,, xxiii berdes ( . . . wanted), xxi hares. ,, a jernet of blewe velvet w* border. ,, a mantell of red Bawdkyn. ,, iij jerkes of red bawdkyn with sieves. ,, a tfawken of brasse. ENGLISH CH URCH-PLA YS 415 In the list of Payments up to 22nd March 1563 are the follow- Inprms paid unto the Mynstrolls for the Show day and for the play day .... xx Itm paid unto Burtenwood for ther meat and drink . x ,, unto the trumpetur for his paynnes . . x ,, unto Burtenwood for meat and drink for the drumme player, the flute player, and the trumpeter .... xviii ,, unto the flute player for his paynes . . iij iiij ,, unto M r Beadilles man for playeing on the drom v ,, unto M- Brice for his paynes, in part of paymente xx ,, unto Bollybrook for hym and v men for six daies ..... xxii ,, unto Mattras, the sawyer, for ix daies work at xxi a the daye .... ,, for bordinge of Boollibrook and his men ,, for bordinge Mattrace and his man ,, unto one Johnson a tailler for makynge of garments ..... ,, to one Smith a tailler ,, unto Robarde Lee the paynter ,, unto Willm He wet for makinge the vices coote, a fornet of borders, and a Jerken of borders .... ,, the Cowper for xiiij hoopes . „ to John Lockyer for making iiij shep hoks and for iron work that Burle occupied for the hell . Item paide to Rob* Mathews for a paier of wombes „ to Buries for suing the play . ,, to Lawrence for watching in the Churche when the temple was a-dryenge . ,, for carrying of plonk for the stages ij dayes and a half at ij viij the day „ for the mynstrells soper a Saturday at nyght . ,, for ther breakfast on Sonday mornynge ,, for ther dynners on Sonday . Xll xiiij Vll VI xiij iiij m J i"J via J J i"J XVI Iiij iiij "ij V iiij ij y !J 416 APPENDIX II Item paicle for ther soper on Sonday ,, for ther breakfaste on Mondaye ,, for ther dynners on Mondaye „ for ther dynners that kepte the scaffold on Sondaye .... ,, for ther sovvppers that watched on the scaffold at Sondaye at nyght ,, for drink brought to the scaffold ,, for breade and drink among the plaers ,, for drink on the scaffold on Mondaye ,, unto the Mynstrells for twoo daies ,, to the same men for goynge to Branktree ,, for the breakfast on Tewsday morne . ,, laide out for my parte for the plaiers dynner at Branktree at the showe ther ,, to the trumpetter ther ,, for a horsse hyer to Branktre ,, for horssemeat at Branktre ,, for Jenny ns and Coks expenses at Branktre ,, geven to Bullybrooks men besyddes ther wages ,, unto M 1 ' Scotte for pasturynge the mynstrelli horsse at the furst playe ,, unto him more for pasturynge the said horsses for iij dayes and one nyght at the last playe ,, to Jenyns for his paynes at Brancktre and at this towne . . . . „ for drink brought to the fryers ,, for Coks and Jennyns breakfaste on Sondaye . „ for ther dynners on Sondaye . „ for the mynstrells dynners at Brancktre i"J ii.l xvj iiij xii r ll Vllj XX xij "J VI Vllj Xll ij "J xy xi J y Mony recyved at the seconde play by "Water Baker, Thomas Jeffrey, and Thomas Hunwick, churchwardens, xvij . xi . iij, and paid as folowith : — Inprims unto William Withers for quarters borde and for wages leide out to his men as appereth by hys bill ...... Item paid to M 1 Raynold and Willm Wigglesworth that they lende out for ther dynners at Maldon . "J xmj ENGLISH CHURCH-PLA YS 417 Item paid unto M r Browne that he laid out at Maldon at our show ther .... iiij iiij ,, unto M r Knote that he layde out at Maldon . v ,, to M r Do we for meate and drink brought to the scaffold the furste play daye . . iiij x ,, to M r Browne for the waightes of Bristowe and for ther meate drink and horse- meat . . . . .iiij viij ,, to M r Bridges for cullers . . . iiij ,, to W" Brownynge for cloth as ajjpereth by his Bill ..... xxxvi vi ,, unto Buries for suinge the last play and for makyng the conysants . . . xlij ,, unto him for flower and rede nailles . . iiij ,, to Cales for vi daies worke fynding hymself meate and drink . . . vi ,, unto William Richards for makyng of five gownnes and iiij Jerkens . . vi viij ,, unto father Stroode for iiij disshes . . iiij ,, to John ffust for v daies work . . iij iiij ,, unto him for sice and cullers . . xyjj ,, to Edmond Strether for hording of Buries and his boy iij weekes .... xvj ,, unto hym for wood .... xx ,, ,, ,, for candill .... iij ,, ,, ,, for hording John Fust v daies . xx „ for the carriage home of M r Barber's apparell . iiij ,, unto John Stucke for meate and drink for M r Brice's horde & for his horse meat . . xiii iiij „ unto Andrew for heres and beardes borrowed of hym ..... iiij „ more paid unto Nicholas Eve for necessaries againste the playe . . . xiii iiij ,, to M r Mildmay for ij loodes of pooles for the stages ..... vi ,, forty Mynstrells meate and drinke at the last play ..... xij ,, for a colderkin and a ferken brought unto the scaffold . . . . vi „ for breade and meate at the same tyme . vi viij VOL. II 2 E 4i8 APPENDIX II 1U J xl txiij iiij V1 J vj X 1562. Eeceivede at the ij last plaies by Thomas Jeffery and Thomas Hunwick, Wardens . . xix xix iiij More received of the men of Sabsforde for the hier of the garments, An. 1562 . . xxix More received of the same men for the hyer of the same garments in 1563 . . xxx More received for hyer of the same garments of M r William Peter, Knyght . . . xvi Imprimo Paid unto William Wyglesworth of old debt for tymber bought of hym at the firste playe xxxiij ,, unto the goodman Browne of the Cocke, for old debt he lente at the furste playe ,, unto Edmond Sabryght for olde debte ,, more to Edmond Whyght for olde debt Paid to John Stucke for old debte xiij . iiij, and for other charges syns (vi . viii in all) . . xx „ unto the mynstrells for the showe day and for the playe daye ..... xxxiij ,, for board for the players ij „ for bearing the payments for drink for them . ij viij „ Richard Parker and AVilliam Wythers for suinge the play and fyndinge themselves xl „ to Brocke for helpinge them vi viij „ to William Withers for making the frame for the heaven stage, and tymber for the same . . x ,, more unto him for nailles and gluowe . . xx ,, to Christopher for writtinge . . . iiij ,, to Henry Gaynner for cullers . . . iij ,, to Thomas Whale, tailler, for xxi lbs of gonpowder . xiiij „ to Thomas Jeffrey for divers wares sett of him for the play ..... lvii „ to Richard Parker for suing the last playe and fynding hymself x „ in rewarde to John Turner for his paynes taking . x „ to George Martindale for divers wares sett of hym for the plaies ..... xvi „ to Matthew Sonnes for suinge the same (last playe) . ,, to Richard Burd for two daies payntenge . . ij „ to John Fuste in like manner . , . ij ,, to William Withers for makynge the last temple, the waies, and his paynnes . . . xiiij iiij mj, vij viij ENGLISH CHURCH-PLA I 'S 419 Paid to the Cowper for one greate hope and xvsmale hopes „ to Thomas Logge for hoopes sett of hym hy Buries at the furst playe . . . . ,, to John Wryght for makyinge a cotte of lether for Christ ...... Itm paid to Solomon of Hatfild for parchmte „ to the Widdow Pamplen for lyne and packthread ,, at Brancktre when the play was showed ther paid by Thos. Hunnock ,, for drink for the players when the play was showed ,, to Mother Dale and her company for reaping flagges for the scaffold ,, to Polter and Eosse for watching in the pightell l on the play show ,, for ij lhs of assendewe for the thurd playe „ for one doss Spanyshe whight . ,, for vi dos gold foile ,, for vi paper hordes ,, for hopes ,, for fyftie fadam of lyne for the cloude ,, for one dos. grene foile ,, for ij lb. reade leade . ,, for ij lb. Brassoll ,, for iij paper hordes ,, for iiij oz Synop papers . ,, for tenn men to beare the pagiante ,, to Browne for keapinge the cornehill on tli showe daye . ,, to Boistone for payntenge the Jeiants, pagiante, and writing the plaiers names ,, to Henry Gaynners for cullers . ,, for paper to wright the Bookes „ to Kichard Burde for ij daies payntenge making the liveries . „ for read wyne, vineg r and ressett „ for a black plate 2 ,, to Mother Dale for reaping flagges „ for half a thousand of ij d nailes and half a thousand of iij d nailes th and vij vn.i xviii xij y mj VI mj VI iij vi xi J xij Xll xii vi vi viii viii ij vj V1 J ij "J uj J ij iiij vi xii 1 Pightell =inclosure. "Was this Judas' black nimbus ? See p. 359. 420 APPENDIX II Item Paide for half a lb. Asshenders for the last play . xiiij ,, for 1 lb. bottome pakthrede ... vi ,, for 1 dos gold foile .... vi ,, for 1 lb. Spanish browne ... ij ,, for five matches .... ij „ for Bowstringes . . j ,, to Mother Dale for flagges . . . xij ,, for one bundell lathe . . . xij ,, to Thomas Jeffrey for dyvers p'cells btt of hym for the plaies as appereth by hys booke . . . • • iij vij xj The acompte made by Nycolas Eve, Robert Wood, and George Martendale, wardens of the goodes of the Pishe Churche of Chelmsforde aforesayd, from the xxvii of Feb y 1563 unto the third day of March 1565, in the ayght yere of the Raigne of our Sovraigne Lady Elizabeth, by the grace of God, of England, France, and Ireland Quene, defender of the faith, etc. The following are extracted from the account as relating to the plays : — s. Recayved of Coulchester men for our garments for the use of there playe .... xliii iij ,, of men of Waldyne for the here of iij gounes . x ,, of Beleryca men for the here of our garments . xxvii viij ,, of men of Coulchester for the here of our garments for ij tymes .... xiii iiij ,, of Belyrica men for the here of our garments . xx ,, of men of Starford for the here of our garments . . . . . iij vi viij ,, of children of Badow for the here of our garments . . . . vi viij ,, of Lytell Badow men for the here of our garments ..... xxvi viij Payments to William Rychards for mending of our garments and j scayne of sylke . . iiij ij ,, to John Lockear for mendynge of the Cloke iij tymes ..... vi Receipts, 3rd June 1566 — of Sabsforde men for the liyer of the players garments ...... xl ENGLISH CHURCH-PLA \ r S 42 1 Receipts, 3rd June 1566— of Casse of Boreham for the hier of the players garments . . . . . . xiij iiij of Somers of Lanchire for the hier of the players garments ...... xxvi viij of Barnaby Riche of Witham for the hyer of tin: players garments ..... xxvi viij of Will 1 " Monnteyne of Colchester for the hyer of tin' players garments ..... xiii iiij of M r Johnston of Brentwoode for the hyer of the players garments the 10 th Dec. x of Richard More of Nayland for players apparell . iiij viij of Frauncis Medcalfe the iiij of June 1568 for two players gownes . . . . .iij of W" Cray fu rd of Burnam the ij of June 1568 for players apparell ..... v Receites by me John Bridges from the xvi November 1570 unto the xx th January 1571 as followell : — of High Ester men for cartine players apparell for ther playe ..... xiii iiij of Parker of Writtell for the heare of iiij players garments . . . . . .iiij of M rs Higham of Woodham Walter for sartten players apperyle for ther play . . . x Resayved by me John Bridges 1572 as follows : — of Parker of Writtell for players Aprill . . iij more of the Earle of Sussex players for the heare of the players garments .... xxvi viij of John Walker of Hanfild for the heier of players garments ...... v After the election of Churchwardens on 4th October 1573 an Inventory appears to have been taken, and under the head of garments as follows : — Fower gownes of redd velvett. one longe gowne of blew velvett. one short gowne of blew velvett. one gowne of black velvett very much worne. two gownes of redd Satten, the one much shorter than the other. one gowne of borders. 422 APPENDIX II one gowne of clothe of tyssewe. one jerken of blew velvett w th sieves. one jerkyn of blew velvett wthout sieves. seven jerkens without sieves. two vyce cots, two scalpes, and one dagger. foure prophitts cappes. sixe capes of furre and one of velvett. one shepe hook, iiij whippes. a wno cappe. tenne bards, xvii hares. one jernette of blew velvett with borders. one Mantell of red Bawdekyn. three jerkens of red Bawdkyn with sieves. a ffawkyn of brasse. Receipts the iiij Oct. 1573— s. of Thomas Wallinger for one parcel of red velvett in length about 1 yard by consent of sundry of the Parishioners ..... vi viij of Casse of Boreham the eyght of June for the hyer of sundry players garments tintil Michaelmas night . x Churchwardens' account, 28 Nov. 1574 — Item in hand the playe books remaining witt the u,. said George Martendale witt the rest . . iiij 1574. Receyved of the players of Boreham for the hire of the players garments till the mondaye after twelfe day next after . . . v Item soulde unto George Studlye and others all the ropes, vestaments, subdeacons, players coats, jerkens, gownes, heares, cappes, herds, jornetts, mantells, and capes mentioned in the Inventorye of the last Churchwardens by the consent of diverse of the parishioners as by a byll under their hands apereth to the use of the mayentenance of the Church for ... vi xiij iiij 1575. Paide to M r Knott for the makinge of two oblijacyons for the assurance of the players garments belonginge to the Pyshe . . viij We have in these accounts a very vivid picture of the bustle of the play-days. It is not clear whether the ' scaffold ' was inside or ENGLISH CHURCH-PLA YS 423 outside the church, probably the latter. But a portion of the play, that relating to the ' temple,' was apparently given inside the church. We see that the religious drama was still a source of great profit to the Church ; especially is this apparent when we regard the relative value of money then and now ; and, further, we note the profit that could be made by letting out the theatrical wardrobe at a period when the whole countryside was clamorous for the players. About 1575 we find the connection between Church and stage comes to an end, and then within a couple of decades the stage as a lay institution had reached almost the zenith of its power. APPENDIX III ON THE SEX- SIGNIFICANCE OF 'TILTH' This matter is of special interest when we consider the Aryan identification of goddesses of fertility and of agriculture. It has already been noticed on pp. 27, 42, 44, 106, 123, 124 ftn., 169, 207. The widespread use of the tilth 'kenning' among the Greeks is illustrated by the following passages, to which I have been referred by my colleague, Professor Hausman : Aeschylus, Sejotem contra Thebas 754; Sophocles, Oedipus Bex 1211, 1257, 1485, 1497, Antigone 569; Theognis, 525; Plato, Laws 839 a, Cratylus 406 B; Euripides, Troades 135, Medea 1281, Orestes 553, Phoenissae 18. Further, in the Attic law, rraiSwv apoi-os yvr](riMv was the regular phase for ' the begetting of legitimate children.' In Latin I may note the sex-significance of vomer, the ploughshare, the use of the phrase ararefundum alienum for adultery, and that of sulcus, furrow, for the female pudenda. To the same idea in Sanskrit reference has already been made on p. 199. Turning to the Germanic dialects, we note the lines of Hofmanns- waldau : im paradiesz da gieng man nackt und blosz, und durfte frei die liebesacker pfliigen. In the Erzdhlungen and Fastnachtspiele of the Middle Ages plough- ing is used in the same sense, while furche is used much as sidcus. Thus— etlich die dick der wend abmessen, visiren des nachts die maide dar durch und ackern mer, dann einerlei furch. Ein spil von der Vasnaclit, Keller, p. 386. SEX-SIGNIFICANCE OF ' TILTH 425 In the light of this, Frigg, the goddess of fertility, with her plough and the whole series of Germanic folk-customs, which involve the yoking of the unmarried women, or rather women who declit marry, to the plough of the goddess, become more or less intelligible. But of these customs I hope to treat on another occasion. Lastly, besides the reference to tilth on p. 207, an examination of Shake- speare's Pericles, Act iv. scene 6, and his Antony and Cleopatra, Act ii. scene 2, will show that the sex - significance of plough was as familiar in mediaeval England as in the lands which used batter and cultus in the sense of wantonness. APPENDIX IV THE 'GERICHT' AND ' GENOSSENSCHAFT ' A. On 'Gericht: The basis of gericht itself is Teutonic rak, Aryan rag, res, and this may, with some slight boldness, be connected with the series of ideas we have found in the mahal and the kin-group. All the notions of regal, rich, right, righten, reach, rig, are associated with the root. The primitive notion in many Aryan tongues is stretch out, straighten, erect. Thus Greek o/oeyw is to stretch out, grasp, 6'pyuia, for opkyvia, is span. I think the idea of setting up a mark, fence, or similar erection is also primitive. Thus we have Icelandic rett, to pen, O.N. rett, an inclosure for cattle, 1 and the Latin erigo, with the notion of build, erect. The term regere fines, to mark the boundaries, is also very suggestive. The root does not seem free from the notion of the hag or fence placed round the site of the old mahal. The Gothic reks, as in bireks, signifies the inclosed or shut in. Just as the fenced land of the kin led us from cyneland to the kingdom, so we find in Gothic reiki, O.N.' riki, O.H.G. rihhi, A.S. rice, Danish rige, Modern German reich, the lordship. The kin- alderman becomes the Gothic reiks, chief, lord ; Sanskrit rdjan, Gaelic rig, Latin rex, chief or king. But just as the kin-chief does not always get further than the master or parent, so we find that while Irish ri is king, Welsh rhi is dominus and nobilis (p. 135), while rhiant is parent. Further, while Irish rigan is queen, Welsh 1 In Landsmaal rctt is a straight flat marJcstraekning, and langrett is used in the same sense. But rctt is also used for trig in the sense of a fenced piece of land, whether meadow or tilth. I would venture to compare it with opyds for opey&s, which, exactly like rett, may include meadow, tilth, and even wood. The rett, like the opyds, may very probably have originally been sacred to a mother-goddess, i.e. a hayngarten. THE l GERICHT' 427 rhiain is virgo, puella ; in other words, while in Irish the hone has developed into queen, in Welsh she remained the quean. It is difficult to appreciate how a primitive notion of ruling could de- generate into virgo, but the ascent to queen we have followed in hone (p. 1 1 G). That, on the other hand, the pen or fence notion can lead to all the ideas of rex, king, and gericht, judicial court, we have already seen. Take hegen with the original sense of hedging, and we find heger for a defender, protector, prince. To be the heger seines volkes is often described as the mission of a ruler. Hegerding and hegergericht are the judicial courts of a group of peasants who are holders, so-called hegermarmi or hcigeri, of a hag or hagen. In the Grafschaft Schaumberg seven villages are termed die deben freien hagen, and the hegerding was the court held in the hag, the gehegtes gericht, by the hegi rmanner. Here the correspondence to the rett and the gericht are very striking. Even the O.H.G. lcastalt, which we have come across in the gestalt of the hag, modern hagestolz, will be found glossed judex, as well as famulus and mercenarius. Lastly, we may compare hag, the fitting, the orderly, the skilful, the wise (pp. 130, 131) with the notions of order and security involved in the rett and right series of words. To further justify our position, we ought to see the notion of the meal and the dance, or combined the hexenmahl, arising out of the rah, reg root. In the first place, we notice the use of gericht for a portion of food ; the idea at first might be that it is simply what is handed or reached. But the significant thing is that this sense is common to nearly all the Germanic tongues, and must therefore be primitive. O.X. rdttr is either a judicial court or a meal, a mdl, either as mahal or mahl. M.H.G. rihte, riht is either a judicium or prepared food, while Swedish rati, Danish ret, have the like senses of food. The meal notion is thus not wanting. Turning to the dance notion we have, in the first place, the German reige, reihe, which is essentially a choral dance. Fick seeks the origin of this word in Sanskrit rej, spring, tremble, and compares Gothic rein in, tremble, as giving the base of the word. The old forms are reijge, reg, reye, M.L.G. rcge, ret, reige, and I would ultimately connect with the reg, rah series. The reige is a choral dance, for the minne- singer speaks of singing a ret ; it was peculiarly a peasant dance in the open air in summer or springtime ; it was a violent dance ; it was, as Grimm points out, gesprungen, and not getreten. For the 4 2S APPENDIX IV Middle Ages the dancing of the Virgin and saints in heaven, 1 of the devils in hell, and the sonl- and death-dances (see pp. 337-342), are all reigen. The reigen were often conducted under the linden-tree, the spot later of the gericht and of betrothal, earlier of the sex-festival (p. 412). From this aspect the Low German reien, r'een, which is used of loitering about in the streets in the evening, especially of maids who run after men, is peculiarly significant. A Liibeck Zunft order forbids the journeymen tailors, when holding their reyen on Walpwrgistag, to have women and maidens present. Further we find that it was the custom in Liibeck for the bridegroom to come into the bride's house with a sammelinge to dantzende edder to reyende. The sense of reige, I think, is preserved in English rig, a frolic, rig, a Avanton, and rigge, to be wanton, corresponding with German reien just cited. The above sexual sense of the rag root might be thought to be limited to the Germanic branch of the Aryan tongues, but I venture to think we can trace it also in the Greek. I have already pointed to the 6pyd$ as the fenced meadow. Now the dpya's between Athens and Megara was a tx^act sacred to the god- desses of fertility, Demeter and Persephone. 2 Young marriageable women were termed opyaSes, possibly from the tilth analogy, but at least comparable with Welsh rhiain for virgo. In Greek 6py>] (for opey/j) we have the conception of passion, doubtless in the earliest period sexual passion ; Spydoi (for opeydw) is to swell with lust, to wax wanton, and corresponds to the sense in English rig and Low German reien, and less closely to the sense of excite in Latin erigo, Modern German eregen, and more grossly to the use of ragen in the Fastnachtspielc. But the opyds, as the haingarten of the goddess of fertility, is the seat of the opyta (for opeyia), the sexual festival to the goddess of fertility, whose priest and priestess are the opyewi' and opyewvi]. 3 Thus we have made the whole round from the root rag, the judicial court, the meal, the sex-festival with its worship of a goddess of fertility, the choral dance in the inclosure, and the tribe leader developing into parent, king, and priest. We have the hag 1 (Maria speaks) min briutgom viiert den reigen da die heilegen tanzent alle na. Marienleben, cited in Grimms' Worterbuch. 2 See references in Index II. :! The Xorse use oiregin for the gods, and the verb ragna, to call down the gods' anger on any one, may possibly be compared. THE « GENOSSENSCHAFT" 429 and (jut notion of primitive Aryan life again repeated, if it lie in a less definite form. B. The f Genossenschaft.' The root of the word here is one of the most interesting in the whole range of specially Teutonic developments. The sense of the word is to be found in genieszen, to enjoy, but with the under- lying and antique sense of enjoying in common. Hildebrand, in Grimms' W'&rterhnch} takes the original sense to have been acquiring in common by the hunt or by war, and the later to be that of common enjoyment. He bases his interpretation on the use of the strengthened forms — Anglo-Saxon beneotan for rob, and Gothic ganiutan in the sense of capture. I venture to think this notion is rather a development of the original sense of the word, especially among warlike Teutonic stems, the chief occupation of whom was the acquirement of booty in common. O.H.G. niozan is uti, frui. usu capere, capere cibum ; ganiuzan is consumere, but the idea of rob does not occur. Accordingly the uses of the Gothic ganiutan in the sense of take fish (Luke v. 9), and catch (Mark xii. 13), besides n a fa for fisherman, seem to me quite easy derivative notions. The Gothic niutan, A.S. niotan, O. Fries, nieta, O.X. niota, all retain the simple notion of use, enjoy, without that of rob. Lithuanian paniisti is lust after, and nauda profit. The idtimate root appears to be nu, or with a guttural na-d- (possibly Sanskrit rumd, enjoy, rejoice may be connected). The sense is to use, to profit by, to enjoy, and therefore, in early times, with special applica- tion to food and sex. But I have already traced the community of primitive society in bed and board. Hence the fundamental application of the root is to what is enjoyed in common. The notion is very widespread. In Scandinavian we have nautna, neyta, in/lie, to enjoy, to eat, njota nytte, to use, eat, benytte, and the nouns denoting help, utility, corresponding to Danish nytte, O.X. nyt. In German we have all the notions of use, enjoyment in niitzen and niitze; 2 English dialect gives us nate, etc. In Landsmaal naut, in 1 See undei and genosz. I have freely used Hildebrand's citations. 2 O.H.G. nvt: lias the sense of profit, produce of the laud ; Friesian not is the word for agricultural produce of all sorts, O.N. nyt is specially used of dairy products, in other words, we are carried back to the most primitive sense of the useful or profitable as food. A cognate series is O.H.G. niot, O.F. niod, A.S. 43° APPENDIX IV O.N. nautr, is a comrade, one who enjoys in common. The German has not retained this simple form, but has put all the ancient ideas of common life into the strengthened form genieszen. This word denotes essentially the idea of common enjoyment ; it is not only eating and drinking, but pleasure in so doing. The noun geniesze, or in its more usual form genusz, is essentially the pleasurable satis- faction of appetite in contradistinction to the mere desire, the begierde. Like niezen it is used of the satisfaction of sexual appetite : er ndz ir jungen silezen Up, biz daz dm maget wart ein imp (Daz heselin, Gesammtabenteuer, ii. p. 9). Genieze in M.H.G. is used of a female comrade, the later genossin. While genieze in M.H.G. is used of food and love, its O.H.G. sense was undoubtedly gemeingeniesze, the nutznieszung in gemeinschaft. Even Luther in his Bible transla- tion gives the mittheilung of the older German versions, the participatio of the Vulgate, by geniess : " What fellowship — geniess — hath right- eousness with unrighteousness ?" (2 Cor. 6, 14). The typical word is O.H.G. ganoz, hindz, equivalent to O.N. nautr, and glossed socius, contubemalis, sodalis, aequalis, cornmilito — in other words, we find the ganuz is exactly like the gataling (p. 154) and the gamahcho (p. 143). We have the group of rriunte with common living, common house, and equal privileges, degenerating as the glosses huskinozi, domestici, and ganoz, diem, show into the same senses as the hiwa terms (p. 126) degenerated. It is noteworthy, however, that ganuz stands for either male or female comrade ; it is glossed like ganuzinna by collega. Similarly genieze in M.H.G. is used of either sex, the genosse or the genossin, the simple mitgenieszer. M.H.G. gendzinne, or simply genoze, is used for soda, consors, wife. 1 Turning back to O.H.G. we note Mndzsam,facundus, in the sense of social ; gandzsami, collegia; ganozsamon, ganozon, both glossed consociare ; ganozscaf, consortium, contubernium, collegium, sodalitas ; ungendz is one who is not of the ganozscaf; ungenozami is used in the Weistkumcr of a wife, not one of the genoszschaft ; while the terms mitgenUssig and ungendssig are rendered by consors and exsors. Like senses may be followed in a more scattered manner in M.L.G. genot, A.S. geneat, and Dutch genoot, etc. Eidgenoss is like the eidam (p. 223), the neod, desire, lust, joy, with the verb niotdn, A.S. ginicdCn, to enjoy to the full, to rejoice in, and O.H.G. adjective niotsam, desirabilis, etc. 1 Genieszung is used for gcnosz, and the two words may be compared with gala- lung and gattc. It also stands, of course, for enjoyment. THE ' GENOSSENSCHAFT' 43i man whose genoszschaft arises from an oath and not from blood. Suggestive for the common life is the term brdtgenossen as equivalent to ehalten (see p. 126). Weidgenossen, aVpgenossm, markgenossen all indicate the primitive community with its common rights in wood, pasture, and land. Thus we see, as in the vriunte, that the genossen were a com- munity arising from a common satisfaction of appetite, a common profit. It only remains to show that the genoszschaft was originally an endogamous group. It is impossible here to enter on the picture of primitive com- munal life that the Weisthumer provide, but one or two points regard- ing the earliest genoszschaft may be emphasised. In the first place, it was a group having rights of inheritance, intermarriage, and inter- change of products. The head of the community had to take care that the genossen neither v:iben noch mannen uszer der gnoszschaft. If they do, and a child results, that child has no inheritance within the genoszscliaft. 1 As the 1320 Ebersheimmiinster Weisthwn puts it, when a man "usser siner genbssinne grifet, uncle gewinnet die ein lint," that child is not his heir. 2 This custom of marrying within the genoszschaft will be found in the Weisthumer right away from Elsass to Tyrol, and explains the strong feeling against exogamy which still exists in many an out-of-the-way valley (p. 140). In several cases Ave find different lesser or sub-communities claim the right to give and to take each other's children in marriage ; and a noteworthy paragraph in the Schwabensjiiegel tells us that if a man dies leaving two daughters, one of whom has married her gendz and the other her vmgendz, only the former inherits genoszschaft property. The obvious basis of all this is that group-property was not to pass out of the old endogamous kin-group. The group is repeatedly described as consisting of persons einandem genosz und geerb, who may zu einanndt rn varnn vnnd von einanndem, i.e. may intermarry. 3 Thus it comes about that a genosz may only sell his land and rights within the genoszschaft, or at least not until he has sought a purchaser within the geerbe or genosze. But this restriction stretched a good deal farther than the land, we find it applied not only to all stand- ing crops, but to garden produce, to all the produce, in fact, of what 1 J. Grimm's Weisthumer, Bd. v. p. 64 (Koelikon, eirca 1400\ 2 Ibid, Bd. i. p. 669. 3 See the Qfwung von Briitten, Grimm's Weisthumer, i. p. H4. 432 APPENDIX IV in older days had been the common kin-group land. Even fish and crayfish are in some cases not to be exported. Manufactured articles, bread, bricks, tiles, ploughs, pots, tubs, etc., must either not be sold at all outside the genoszschaft, or first offered for sale to the genosze. Even tailors, shoemakers, and smiths must work only for the gendsze, or for them in the first place and at a cheaper rate. 1 The primitive community is not only endogamous, we see also the fossils of an older self-sufficing communism. Even in the mediaeval gendszschaft, overlaid as it was with developed feudalism, we find the strongest traces of the old internal self-government. The alderman or kin-chief may have become an hereditary lord, but the heimal, fryggecling, or gehegtes gericht of the gendszschaft, held under the gerichtsbaum, show us clearly enough the old group-habits of the gata- lunge and the vriunte. Their genieszen is an enjoyment in common of food, and of the product of the land and chase ; their genuss (Tyrolese gnuss) is a gemeinnutzung of woods and pasture ; their geneten, a rechtes geneten, the legal advantage in the mahal. But at the same time the sex-weight never leaves the Avords, and the liebesgenuss it refers to is the endogamous union of a localised kindred group. The modern genossenscliaft is one of the pillars of our present commercial system, but its origin in the old kindred group-marriage — the human herd — is hardly more realised than are those of right (p. 427) and of love (p. 175). 1 See von Maurer, GeschicMe dcr Markeverfassung, 1856, pp. 179-184. INDEX I.-WORDS AND ROOTS ESSAY ON KINDRED GROUP-MARRIAGE- Non-Aryan pSsos 206 pri 168 garni 224, 225 gamatri 225 Arabian pu 222 gand'as 153 bar 120, 122 gar a 227 batn 11/ bhero 121 garami 1S9 rehem 117 lib, lub' 175, 176, 177 g'aras 189 hayy 124 ma 101, 196, 200 gna 114, 117 hawwa 124 mad 200 gnata 118 mal 200 gnati 118 Finnish vedho 227 cakamana 177 aiti 131 vie 190 kam 177 isa 131 vid 238 kama 177 si 162 kamra 177 Arya n snu 226 ksa 123 anth, ath 131 spherag 159 k'si 123 gam 235 sphoragos 159 k'sis 123 gan, gen 113, 117, 132, 134, star 122 k'sitis 123 135 stri 122 jam 224 g'elta 194 su 122, 162 jarta 194 gelvo 194 sutar 122 yatar 234 ghad 153 siitri 122 taksh 187 ghar 178 sva 122 tatas 20S ghreudo 149 svasr 122 toka 187 ka, kar 177, 178 svedho 118, 232 dampati 190 kam 177 d'avas 101, 237 jam, gam 225, 235 tak 187, 242 Sanskrit dayate 236 devar 236 tego 187 arnba 201 dhar 179 daiai 236 udara 132 dhri 178 daivt'r 236 ulva 199 dlrridha 178 dar, dhar 178 urvara 199 dogd'ri 223 dharg 183 gall3 dohas 223 pa 204, 206, 208, 218 gad 153 dug 101, 222 1 The spelling and grouping adopted is that of the sources from which the words have been taken, and is therefore not always consistent. The index is solely for purposes of reference, and lays no claim to being a scientific classification. All the pages in this Index refer to Vol. II. VOL. II. 2 F 43- INDEX I duh 222 diig'a 223 duhita 222 dru, daru 179 nafsu 218 napat 218 naptjam 218 pasas 206 patar 205 patra 208 pitryjas 208 putra 222 pra-av 170 pramatha 112 prandha 118 pravah 118 pri 166, 170 prija 166 prijaja 166 prijas 166 prita 172 priti 172 Pritis 166, 168 bhar, bhi 120 bhartar 122 bbartri 121 bhavaua 185 bhratar 120, 121 bbratarau 122 bhu, bu 184, 185 bhuti 185 b'rud 101, 113 bull 185 lubli, lob 175 lubdha 175 iuanmatha 112 man th, math 112 mataputrau 199 matar 199 matarau 198 matr 196 matrika 197, 202, 204 ruatrka 140 matrkas 202 vaduja 227 vadhu 227 vama 134 vanas 134 vapanam 193 vapra 193 veca 190 \T.cpati 190 vi, vip, 192, 193 vidh 237 vidhava 101, 237 vidhu 237 §eva 125 9il28 curas 229 eva«^ura 229, 234 ovacriis 229 sabbya 162 sabhi 162 savam 221 si 134 siv 162 snusba 226 somas 222 su221 sunas 221 sunns 221 suta 221 sutu 221 sva 229 svatu 118 svesrino 235 svaeura : see rvamra svakurjas 230 syalas 235 HlNDUSTANEE sas 232 susra 232 Zend — Persian ghena 114 zanri 225 zamatar 225 dokbter (Pers.) 222 napat {Pers.) 218 bratuirya 216 vadmjmnG 227 vicpaiti 190 vip {Bad.) 193 vipta {Bad.) 193 sapah {Pers.) 162 sipa {Pers.) 162 sipah (Pers.) 162 sipahi {Pers.) 162 Armenian ordz 139 tagr 236 hayr 206 Albanian vovaeja 226 vovaepia 226, 227 Greek ayaOos 155 dyelpw 156 ayopd 156, 157, 158, 242 dyopaia 157 d§e\06s 120 de'Xtoi 235 'Adrjvv 131 d\ew 149 d\rj$ovffai 149 tfXof 124 dv€\f/ios 218 dvdew 131 avdos 131 dvvls 229 aporos 124 apovpa 124 dpob) 124 Ppita 119 yd\a 234 ydXws 234 yap.(3p6s 225 ya/xeiv 235 yanew 138, 225 ydfios 138 yaarrip 115 yeverwp 113 yevos 115 ye'vrep 115 yevu 113 yiyvwGKw 118 yvwros 118 ypaiav 189 yir)s 124 yvvr) 114, 115 5cu/p 236 Sals 236 Baiui 236 SeXra 194 dpvs 179 edvov 227 edvos 118 £8os 118 eiVdrepes 234, 235 €Kvpd 229 iKvpos 228, 229, 230 eirida'Xdfiios 133 ei'vrj 134 FeOos 232 Fid- 238 Foikos 190 7)ider) 238 -rjideos 238 Opbvos 179 dvydryp 222 Kados 152 Kelfuu 128, 136 Keiw 136 KOip.dii3 136 Koivai 126 kolvo'l 126 /cotfos 126 koivou 126 Koivwveo: 126 Koivw/na 126 Koivwvia 126 WORDS AND ROOTS 435 KOlTt] 136 Kdpij 115 Kpd\7]s 189 Kvpos 229 Kw/xrj 136, 178 ku/xos 136, 158 Ku/xuidla 178 \eyw 188 Xexw 188 /*ata 197, 202, 201 /uatds 197 /xatevo/j.ai 19 7 fj.arpv\r] 197 fJ-VTyp 196 fjirp-pa 197 p.v\\ds 150 /xvWos 150 /j.v\\u 150 veirooes 219 PV6S 225 wu/xcpri 201 oIkcios 134 oiKeioTTjs 134, 190 oiKelw/j.a 134, 190 oiKia 190 oTkos 134, 190 ot\-o5eXts 189 irapdevos 130 irareofiai 204 ira.T-qp 205 Trdrpws 209 irevdepd 228, 229 irevdepos 229 Treos 206 tttjos, 7raos 206 Troteti' Trcuoa 138 7rocrts 206 ttotvux 206 tra/cos 231 jj.(bos 235 crvvTiTpLfifiivovs 149 187 Terra 208 ret^x"*' 187 re'xfr? 187 TLKTeiV 187 rpa7os 136 rpayuidia 137 rpi/3a> 149 Tpl\pat 149 ftjs 222 I'toy 221 i)A"7" 138, 222 0ep- 120 0?™ 184 0 152 Xop6s 132, 157, 158, 178 Xoprdfa 157 Xopros 157, 178 Latin admater 214 adpater 214 arnica 178 amicus 178 amita 216 amo 178 avunculus 215 avus 215 camera 178 caritas 177. 241 caritia 177 carmen 178 cams 177 cauda 188 chorus 17S cms 123 civitas 123 coemptio 138 coelebs 130 cognati 135 cogniti 135 cognosce- 118 comis 177 commater 210. 235 compater 210 compateruitas 213 concio 151 confarreatio 13S. 147, 14S congregatio 156 congressio 156 congressus 156 conjugium 138, 198 conjunctio 151 connubium 198 consobrinus 235 consors 140 consortium 138 consponsae 235 consponsus 235 consuesco 122, 232 consuetio 122 contritos 149 contubernium 138 conversatio 146 convivium 143 convivor 143 cosinus 235 cunnus 113 di-vido 237 dominus 190 domus 190 familia 126 fasciatorium 213 fe- 127, 1S4 fecundus 127, 185 feles 185 felix 185 femina 185 fenum 127, 185 fer- 120 feretrum 120 furtor 121 fetus 127, 185 filiola 214 filiolus 214 firmus 179 fodrus 207 fovea 120 fovere 120 f rater 120 fratria 241 fretus 179 friare 121 frutex 119 geminus 225 gen- 118, 134, 135 gener 225 generosus 135 genialis 135 genialitas 135 genitor 113 genius 135 genu 117 genus 115, 135 gigno 113 glos 234 gnosco 135 grex 156 haga 12S. 164 haia 128, 164 haistakli 129 hortus 158, 178 hvmen 138 436 INDEX I janitrices 234 ju-, jug- 224 levir 228, 236 liber 174 Liber 175 Libitina 175 lubere 175 lubido 175 mater 196 materia 199, 200, 201 maternitas 198 niaterrms 214 matertera 202 Matrae 199 Matralia 201 matricula 203 matrimonmm 198 matrix 113, 197, 200, 203 modus 200 molentes 149 nepos 219 nepotes 202 neptis 219 nitor 117 nobilis 135 nubere 101, 118, 192 nura 226 nurus 225, 226 pabulum 204, 207 panis 204 paricida 206 pasco 204, 205 pastor 205 pater 205 paternus 214 patrinus 212 patruelis 209 penis 206 plebs 127 potens 206 progenies 203 prosapia 163 puer 222 pusus 222 putus 222 sobrinus 219, 230, 235 soca 231 socer 228 socrus 228, 229, 230 soga 231 sponsor 214 spurcalia 159 suavaum 232 sueo 122 supa 164 supanos 164 suppar 164 sus 162, 221 trudere 123 uterinus 230 uterus 132 vagina 195 vagus 195 venter 115 Venus 114 veretrum 120 vibrare 192 vicus 190 vidua 237 viduus 237 viere 192 virgo 130 voluptas 174 volva 188, 194 volvere 195 vulva 194 Romance ama {Span.) 204 ama (Languedoc) 204 amo (Span.) 204 beaupere (.FV.)230 earail (Span.) 189 carajo (Span.) 189 conimere (Fr.) 211 compere (Fr.) 212 druda(/to?.) 180, 182 drudo (Ital.) 180 fodero (Ital.) 207 gale (O. Fr.) 197 moudre (Fr.) 150 nuora (Ital.) 225 parrain (Fr.) 212 queue (Fr.) 188 suocero (Ital.) 228 Celtic am (Gaelic) 204 arwedd ( Welsh) 227 brith (Old Irish) 121 cara (Irish) 177 caraim (Irish) 177 caur (Old Irish) 229 chwegr ( Welsh) 230 chwegrwn ( Welsh) 229 druth (Gaelic) 180 dyweddio (Welsh) 227 fedb (Irish) 237 tick (Old Irish) 190 fine (Old Irish) 134 gadal (Old Irish) 153 guie (Cornish) 190 gwaddol ( Welsh) 227 gwamm (Breton) 194 gwaudd ( Welsh) 227 guedeu (Cornish) 237 gv/eddvti (Welsh) 237 gubit (Cornish) 227 bwegr (Cornish) 230 suth (Old Irish) 221 tad ( Welsh) 208 Anglo-Saxon adum 223 bearnum 209 braedan 120 brid 119 brid 120 brittan 120 brod 119 brooYum 209 brydbur 186 brydleod 133 brydsang 133 bur 185 carlcatt 189 catel 152 ceorlian 189 cernen 189 cneo 117 cneos 116 cvitlie 115 cyn 116 cynehlaford 116, 117, 163 cynelond 116 eynerice 116 cynejieod 116 cynraeden 160, 161 cyrran 189 deorfrid 173 dohtor 222 Drida 181 dry 181 dryas 181 dryht 183 dryhten 183 dryhtguma 184 earn 215 t-owend 188 faSe 208, 217 faftu 217 feeder 205 230 ffedera 209 frederencyn 142 f?ederingmag 142 faselt 206 fodder 207 frigjan 166 friod 166 frundeling 167 gaed 154 gaedeling 154 gam ah 144 gal 197 gat 115, 153 geat 152 gecynd 116 WORDS AND ROOTS 437 gecyndelim 116 gefaedera '209 gefer 159 gefera 159 gefere 159 geferraeden 159 gemaca 144 gemaecnes 142 gemagas 139 geswirja 232 gift 138 giftung 138 godfaeder 214 godsib 214 godsunu 214 gossibraede 161 grytt 149 haeman 127 haemed 127 haemedceorl 127 haemedding 127 haemedgemana 127 haemdo 127 haemedrif 114, 127 haemend 127 haege 129 haegesse 130 hagsteald 129 hagtesse 130 hagtis 130 haga 129 halsfang 209 heawan 127 heos 128 hig 127 higo 127 higum 127 hiredesealder 137 liiredesfaeder 137 hiredesmoder 137 hiva 126 hi\Taede 126, 161, 163 hivred 126 hivredgerifa 126 hivscipe 126 hivung 126 hiwa 126, 137, 139 hiwan 126 hiwiski 126 hiwunga 126 hog 130, 131 horcwen 114 knusi 118 lac 133 lagu 128 leofman 233 liegan 128 liof 175 maca 140 maga 138, 193 maeg 139, 140 maege 139 maegelagu 105 maegS 139, 163 maege8 139, 140, 193 maegeoman 193 maeggemot 148 maeghaemed 140 maeglag 148 mael 148 niodraueht 158 mGdrige 203 nefa, 219 rif 114, 188 rift 188 riven 188 sib 160, 162 sibling 161, 162 sibsum 161 sife 162 sinhiv 126 snora 226 suhterja 232 suhtorfaedera 232 sunn 221 sweger 231 sweor 231 tacor 236 team 115 teman 115, 127 Thryat 181 treowscipe 179 treoji 179 treo)>ian 179 tymen 115, 127, 156 ungesibsuni 161 vaifjan 192, 194 vaefan 192, 194 vifian 189 wedlac 227 wick 190 wifgal 197 wiflag 195 wifung 195 wiping 195 wif|>egn 125 wefan 192 Old Saxon buida 186 drohting 184 druht 183 druhting 184 fadar 205 f3dian 206, 207 fraho 174 fuddan 206, 208 gat 152, 153 gigado 154 gitrost 179 liku 133 maal 148 triu wiston 179 suiri 231 swasman 122 Old Frie.sian adum 223 bis 217 ben 140 benenaburch 140 bern 140 berninghe 140 boaste 216 bodel 186 boesen 216 boostgjan 216 boste 216 bostigia 216 budel 186 dracht 183, 184 drusta 183 em 215 fadera 209 fatherum 210 feder 205 federia 209 fedria 210 fete 217 fetha 210 friond 167 friuene 167 frudelf 167 gamech 139 ham 128 heia 126 heive 126 hem 128 hine 126 hionen 126 hyneghe 126 hyske 126 ketil 152 liaf 175 liodgarda 128 mach 139 mec 140 mecbref 140 mech 139 medder 203 meker 140 metrika 140 moye 203 quik 194 swager 231 swesbedde 122 tarn 115 438 INDEX I triuwa 179 widwe 237 winnasonge 133 English bachelor 130 bairn (Scot.) 139 beget 153 believe 176 bird 120 birth 121 boss 217 bower 185 breed 119 bride 118, 119, 121 brood 119 brother 120, 121 byre 186 caress 178 chamber 178 charity 178 churl 189 churn 189 conversation (O.E.) 146 cousin 235 cover 192 coverture 198 dad 208 daughter 222 drag 183 dug 223 fare 159 feeder 205, 207 fertile 120 rill 207 fodder 204 free 171, 172, 174 freedom 171 freeman 172 freethinker 173 friend 167 friendship 241 fry 166, 174 garth 158 gat 115 gate 152 gather 153, 156 generation 113 generosity 135 generous 135 genius 135 giving away 138 goat 115 god (O.E.) 161, 214 godeman (O.E.) 161 godfather 214 godmother 214 godsib (O.E.) 161 good 155 goodfather (Scot.) 230 goodman 161 goodmother (Scot.) 230 gossip 161, 211, 214 grace 178 gratitude 178 grits 149 hag 130 hagasted (Scot.) 129 ham 128, 136 haugh (Scot.) 129 haw 129 hind 126 hive 125, 126, 127, 241 home 128, 136 hure-queyn (Shet. I.) 114 husband 163, 190 intercourse (O.E.) 146 kendle (Scot.) 113 kettle 152 kid 115 kin 115, 154, 160, 163 kine 114, 127 kind 134, 135, 144, 168, 172 kindle 135 kindliness 135 kindred 160 king 116 kith 115, 134 kittie (Scot.) 115 knee 117 knight 115 know, known 118, 135 kyte (Scot.) 115 law 128 lay 128, 133 leman 233 libertine 173 lie 128 love 175, 241 lust 175 maid 139, 140 make 138, 139 mamma 202, 203 man 190 mate 140 matter 199 may 197 meal 146 mother 196, 198, 199 mould 200 moulder 200 mud 199 mudder 199 neighbour 241 nobility 135 outspanning 173 parent 206 pasture 205 quake 194 qui : an 173 quean (Scot.) 114 quenie (Scot.) 114 queyn (Scot.) 114 queen 113, 114, 116, 117 quick 194 ram 123 sect 161 sepoy 162 sept 161 sieve 162 sip 162 sister 121, 122 son 162, 221 sow 221 spinster 130 spoon 148 spousals 138 sup 162 swine 162 swing 194 team 115, 127, 156 teem 115 throne 179 tide 236 tread 182 tree 178 Trot, Dame 181 troth 179, 182 trow 179 true 178, 182 truth 179, 182 unkind 134, 135, 144, 168, 172 wave, 194 weave 194 wedding 138 wedlock 227 whore 178, 227 wide 237 widow 237 widower 237 wife 190, 192 win 134 winsome 134, 172 woman 192, 193 yard 158 Scandinavian O.J\ T .=01d Norse N. = Norse L. = Landsmaal D. = Danish S. = Swedish barn (A T .) 140 has (J7.) 217 besvogre sig (D.) 162 brudsang (S.) 133 WORDS AND ROOTS 439 brur (Z.) 119, 120, 121 bu (.V.), 186 bu, bua (Z.) 186 biia (N.) 186 lmi (X) 186 bygd (X) 187 bygderet (.V.) 187 bygdeting (X.) 187 bygge (X.) 187 bylag (.V.) 187 b0r (Z.) 140 b0ra (Z.) 140 b (Z>.) 222 daggja (S.) 222 dottir (O.N.) 222 dronning (Z.) 183 drost (Z.) 183 drdtt (O.X.) 183 druttinn (O.X.) 183 drOttniiig (O.X) 183 drottiiing (&) 183 ladder (Z>.) 210 faster (.V.) 216 Fensal (O.X) 198 fdda (-S'.) 207 foeSa (O.X.) 207 fode (Z).) 207 fraendi (O.X.) 167 franka (S.) 168 fraeundkona (&) 168 FraujS (O.X.) 168 Frevja (O.X.) 168, 174 Freyr (O.X.) 174 fri (O.X.) 166 fria (O.X.) 166 friantr (O.X.) 167 Frigg (O.X.) 168 friolll (O.X.) 166 fridla(Z.) 166 frie (Z.) 166 Mile (Z.) 166 fro (.S'.) 166 Frowa (O.X.) 168, 170 fru (X) 174 Fru (O.X.) 168 fu« (X) 208 fuS (O.X.) 208 gad (O.X.) 152 gamahalus (O.S.) 146 giinta (5.) 225 gat (Z.) 152 gate (Z.) 152 gato (Z.) 152 gatu (Z.) 152 geit (O.X.) 115 genta (O.X.) 225 gift (I).) 138 giftung (Z).) 138 gjenta (Z.) 225 godi (O.X.) 214 golf (O.X.) 212 grautr (O.X.) 149 hag (O.X.) 130, 131 hag (Z.) 131 hi, hij (X) 123 hjon (Z.) 127 hjuna (Z.) 127 husman (X.) 163 hGra (O.X.) 227 hyra (Z.) 134 hyrr (O.X.) 134 jente (X.) 225 kallbjorn (Z.) 189 karl (O.X) 189 karlfugl (O.X.) 189 katil (X) 152 kone (X.) 116 kongr (X.) 116 kour (O.X.) 116 konuugr (X) 116 kvarnkall (X) 189 kund (O.X.) 116 knndr (O.X.) 116 leik, leike (Z.) 133 leikestova (Z.) 133 leikfuel (Z.) 133 leikvoll (Z.) 133 leikr (O.X.) 133 lov (Z.) 128 magr (O.X.) 139 magr (egn (O.X.) 187 veddjan (X) 102, 138 ven (X) 167 vimia (O.X.) 134 veifa (O.X.) 193 Teutonic PiOOts bau-, bu- 1S4 242 ei- 224 fri- 160, 166, 171, 174, 175 gad- 155 hag- 127, 128, 129, 130, 134, 148, 155, 156, 164 har- 227 heg-, hyg- 123, 124, 127, 132 hi-, hij-, hiw- 101, 123. 124, 128, 132, 134, 149. 166 kan-, kyn-, kin-, kei- 113, 115, 117, 118, 132, 135. 139 lob- 176 his- 175 ma- 146 mal- 157, 236 mah-, mag- 138, 160 sib- 160, 161, 162, 163 svas- 232 svekr- 229, 232, 233 swaiig- 194 trew- 178 win- 134 Gothic ai]>ei 131 atta 131 ava 215 bauains 185 440 INDEX I bruthfaths 218 brutlis 119 hrunsts 113 daddjan 222 dauhtar 222 fadreins 210 fatan 204) -faths 218 fodeins 204 fodjan 204 fodjan 206 fodr 207 frauja 174 fraiv 166 frijon 166 frijondia 166 frijonds 167 frijGns 166, 167 frijajjva 166 gabauan 185 gabaur 185 gabaurjaba 185 gabaurjojms 185 gadiliggs 154 gadrauhts 183 gaits 115 galubs 175 gamalvidans 149 gasibjon 161 gudja 214 haims 128 haw- 124 heivan 124 heivafrauja 124 hors 178, 227 katilo 152 kilpei 194 kuns)>s 118 laikan 132 laikirs 132 magafs 139 magus 139 malandeins, 149 malvjan 149 mat 200 mavi 139 megs 139, 225 nipj)jis 219 ni]>jo 219 qijmhafts 115 qijrns 115 q veins 113 sibja 160 sidus 232 sifan 160 siponeis 163 snivan 226 sunns 221 svaihra 228 svaihro 228 sves 232 trauan 179 triu 179 ufbauljan 185 unlmltho 1S2 unsibis 161 us-J>riutan 182 veihs 190 viduvo 237 Old High German amine 204 ana 204 ano 204 basa 216 bigatten 153 bigitan 153 bosam 216 brio 121 bruoder 120 bruotan 119, 120 prut 119 prutigomo 196 briitisang bnitsamana 159 brutsunu 119 bruten 119 buari 186 pur 185 crioz 149 cutti 115 for ch, see k for d, see t einkunne 113, 115, 117 enenkel 220 Erdfxfiwa 170 fadar 205 fara 160 fasel 188 fasel 206 fataro 209 feldbuari 187 fotar 204, 207 foten 204 fStjan 206 Frea 168 Fria 168 Frija 168 friantscafida 167 frawi 172, 174 frawida 174 fridu 172 friduding 174 friedel 174 friedela 174 friedila 166 friheit 172 frowa 174 friudalin 166 friudil 166 vriunt 167 friunte 168 vriunte 171 friuntin 168 friuntscaf 167 frO 174. 241 fuoten 204 vuoter 207, 208 vuten 204 vuter 204 cadum 152 gabur 186 gabura 186 gagat 154 gaiz 115 gamahaljan 149 gamahhida 142, 143, 154, 156, 160, 182, 219, 241 gamahho 143 gamahhida 241 gasamani 159 gasibba 161 gasibbo 161 gaswio 231 gatalinga 153, 154 gataro 156 kataro 156 gate 154 katilinga 153, 154, 156, 182 gatilinge 241 katriuuete 179, 183 gatulina 154 gavatera 210 gavatero 210 gawona 134 geburo 186 gebusamen 216 gegate 154 ze gehieime 125 kehigenden 125 kehiginnis 125 kehiten 125 gehiton 125 gemageda 139 gemahlih 143, 144 gesemene 159 kesemene 159 gesemine 159 geswe'ster 121 getelos 154 giella 197 gimacha 144 gimachide 143 gimacho 143 gimageda 1 42 gimah 134 gimmahhida, 143 gimahi 143 gimahide 143 WORDS AND ROOTS 44 r gimahido 140 giri 17S giridi 178 gisibbe 160 givatarum 211 gomo 195 gota 214 gdtknnni 135 gotele 214 goting 214 goto 214 gotta 214 hag 173, 178 hagastalt 129, 130, 156 hagazusa 130, 131 hagetissa 156 hagespraka 137 hagezissa 130, 131 hagjan 128 hazusa 130, 131 haien 128 haigen 128 hefhanna 204 hi 169 hibar 125 Mbarig 125 hiberg 125, 14S hien 125 hifuoga 125 big 169 hige 169 higot 125 hihun 125, 156 hi jan 124 hileih 132, 136, 137, 13S, 158, 159, 177, 17S hiniachari 125 hirat 132, 137, 138, 148, 158, 172 hisaz 125 histat 148 hitat 125 hiunka 125 hiuri 134 hiwa 125, 163, 166, 168 hiwe 169 hiwelich 125 hiwen 125, 127 hiwo 125, 166, 167 hiwunga 160 Hornung 15S hornunge 158 href 18S huora 178, 227 huswirt 195 idis 131 inburro 186 itis 131 char 189 charal 195 charala 189 charalon 189 karl 189 katero 152 keili 197 chena : sec chone keran 189 cheran 189 chezil 152 kida 115 chinan 113 chizi 115 chone, kone 113,114, 116, 117. 139, 164 kunni 115, 116, 117, 241 kuninck, ehunningll6, 117, 205 kmmiling 116 kunnischaf't 116 kunnizala 116 lantbuari 187 laz 174 lazza 174 lehtar 188 ligau 188 LiutfrCwa 170 liutgasameni 159 mac, m&ch 13S, 139, 140, 142, 168 macscaf 139, 241 mag 138, 139, 140, 142, 151, 167 magidi 139 niagiu 139 magon 139 mah : see mac mahal 148, 151, 155, 157, 158, 172, 187, 242 mahaljan 145, 149 mahaldn 149 mak : see mac mal 146 : see mahal malan 149 malon 149 mome 202 nmltra 200 mumbling 203 muomunsuni 203 muotar 196 muoterja 203 nefo 219 nift 219 oheim 215 quiti, quid 115 quena, qvina: see chona sib 162, 224, 241 sibba, sibbu 161 sibbo 160 sibja 165, 182 sip 160 sippa 160 sippia 160 sipzal 161 siptzal 161 situ 118 snur 226 sporkelmaand 159 stiuffater 230 su- 221 sunn 221 swangar 194 swaseline 233 swSsenede 233 swasman 233 sweher 228 sweiga 231 swengen 194 swestarkarl 189 swigar 228 swio 231 tohtar 222 treuwa 179, 223 trewa 241 triuuva 179, 182 trin wen 179 trost 179, 182 trostjan 180 truhsaze 183 truht 183 truthigomo 184 truhtin 183 truhtinc 184 trust 179 trustis 179, 1S2 drut, trut 180 -trut 180 Trut- ISO trutin 180 trutinna 180 triitliet 180 drut man 180 trutscapht 180 trutz 182 unfriuutscaf 167 ungamahlih 143 ungehite 125 ungehnvat 125 unsibja 161 unsipbi wip 163 unwini 134 vip 192 : see also f wanbrut 119 weban 194 weibon 192, 193 wofman 192, 193 windesprut 119 wini 134 winia 134 winileod 133, 136, 158, 178 442 INDEX I winiscaf 134 wipheit 193 wirt 195 witawa 237 wan 134 zeihhur 236 zeman 115, 156 zoum 115 Middle High German briezen 119 briute 119, 120 broz 119 pruoter 120 brut 119, 120 eide 132 tidam 224 degen 187 feteron 209 fleischgadem 153 Frauentanz 133 friunde 167 : see also v gadem 152 gademer 153 gadengerieht 155 gadenrichter 155 gat 152, 153 gater, getter 156 gattlich 154 geMure 134 germac 142 getelich 154 getelos 154 geswester 122 geswie 231 geswige 231 gott 214 gottin 214 gottlein 214 hagetisse 133 (seeO.H.G.) haglig 134 hayngarten 123. 411 hegemal 148 hileih 133, 136 (see O.H.G.) hiwe, hie 125, 139 (see O.H.G.) Kaisergaden 155 : see Ap- pendix I. kinen 113 kon, kone 116 konemac 116 koneman 195 koning 116 kunig, chiinig 116 kueniginne 142 kunne 114, 117 kunkelmac 142 liep 175 niagad 139 magan, 139 magat 139 mage 141 mahal 145 (see O.H.G.) mahalberg 145 mabalbrunnen 145 mahalscaz 145 mabalstat 145 mabaltag 145 rnal 148, 151 malgeld 146 milcbvriedel 166 mulde 200 muotermac 142 nagelmac 168 nagelvriunt 168 neve 219 neveschaft 219 niftelin 219 obeim 215 pfaffenbrut 119 pfaffenkiibe 114 pfaffenkunnen 114, 117 quec 194 sibbe 163 (seeO.H.G.) sibsam 172 sip 162 spindelmac 142 s wager 231 sweher 228 swer 228 swertmac 142 triuten 180 trubten 183 truhtsaeze 183 trut, trute 180 truten 180 trutfriunt 180 trutgespielin 180 trutgemahele ISO trutscbel ISO unsippe 161 vasel 188, 206 vatermac 142 vergaterung, 155, 242, 243 vetero 209 vri 172 vrien 166 wiunde 168 vriimge 173 vrrant 167 vriuntscbaft 168 vrum 172 vuotarwanne 208 vut 208 vuten 206 (see also f) wif 192, 193 witewe 237 German ahn 204 ahne 220 amme 203, 204 bann 173 barm utter 198 base 216, 217 baseln 217 baserei 217 bauen 186 bauer (i) 185 bauer (ii) 186 baum 184 bedecken 198 befriediguug 172 begatten 153, 154 bebaglicb 134, 144, 168 brant 101, 118, 119 120 brautkauf 138 brautscbatz 145 brei 121 bruder 101, 121 brunst 113 brutbiene 120 brutbenne 120 bube 222 bubler 222 bublgabe 222 buhlgesang 222 burg 164 drude 181 drudenfuss 181 druder 181 ebe 102, 138, 198 ehemann 196, 224 eidam 223, 224 einfriedigung 173 eltern 219 enkeln 219 fotze 208 frau 170, 174, 190 freek 170 frei 170, 171, 174 freiding 172, 174 freien 165, 171, 172 freier 173 freierei 173 freierin 173 freifrau 172 freigeist 173 freigericbt 172 freihart 172 freiberr 172 freihof 173 freimann 173 freiort 173 freite 165 freiung 173 freiweib 172 WORDS AND ROOTS 443 freude 171, 172, 174, 241 freudenhaus 174 freudenkind 174 freudenmadchen 174 freudenmahl 174 freudenspiel 174 freudentanz 174 freuen 160 friede 173, 174, 241 friedhof 173 friedigung 173 froh 170, 174 fud 208 futteral 207 gadem 156 gatlich 172 gatte 154, 156 gatter 156 gattergeld 156 gatterhenne 156 gatterherr 156 gattin 154 gebar mutter 198 gehag 128 gehegtes gericht 148 geheuer 134 geil 197 geilhart 197 geloben 175 gelobnis 176 gelubde 176 geraach, 144, 153, 178, 185 gemacblich 144, 168, 172 geroachte 142 gemachzaun 156 gemahl 145 gemahlin 145 gericht 148, 173 gevatter 210 gevatterin 210 gewimien 134 gitter 156 glauben 176 Goding 214 golliard 197 Gottingen 214 griitze 149 gut 155 hag 185 hagegeld 156 hagehenne 156 hagen 128 hagestolz 129 -haglich 134 hain 128 heerfiihrer 163 hegen 128, 173 hegung 173 heira 101, 126, 128 heimlich 122 heirath : see O.H.Q. hirat heirath 101, 137, 140, 149, 160 herzog 163 hexe 130, 131 kaffeebase 217 kaufen 102 keimen 113 kennen 135 kerl 189 kind 135 klatschbase 217 knabe 115, 135 kuecht 115 Kornmuhme 202 Kornmutter 199 kouig 116, 117, 174 konigin 117, 142 kunst 118, 135 lager 173 leich, 132 lieb 175 liebchen 175 liegen 128 loben 175, 176 loffeln 148 lofte 176 macheu 138, 200 madchen 139 niaege, 151 magen 138, 139, 154 raagenschaft 143 mahl 146 mahlen 148, 150 rnahleu 148 mahlzeit 146 mal 148 maun 110, 190, 191, 195 mark 148 melken 222 milchen 222 mitgift 138 mode 199 mott 199 rnudde 199 muhme 201, 202, 216, 217, 219 muhmenhaus 203 mutter 101 mutterbeschwer 199 mutterland 199 muttersprache 199 mutterwitz, 199 oheim 215 ohmchen 220 pynte 188 Roggenmutter 199 ruthe 188 sau 221 schnur 226 sehooskind 159 schossling 159 schwager 224, 230 schwaher 231 schwanger 194 schwangern 194 schwanz 188 schweher 228 schwester 101, 121 schwieger 231 schwiegersohn 224 schwiegertochter, 224 sehwiger 228 sibbe 161 sippeln 162 sitte 118, 232, 241 sohn 221 spannen 173 siippen 162 tochter 101, 222 tragen 183 trauen 179 trauung 177 treue 179 truchsess 183 trutenbaum 181 trutenberg 181 trutenuacht 181 Trutte, Frau 181 trutz 182 uugehener 134 uuholde 182 vater 101 vergaderung 155, 157 vergatten 153 vergatterung 155 verloben 176 verlobung 175, 176, 177 vermahlen 145, 154 vermahlung 101, 145 vetter 209 wiilzen 194 weib 101, 192, 193, 194 Weibermonat 158 weit 237 welle 194 wittwe 101 wohnung 134 zagel 188 zaun 115 zeit 236 zers 188 zisel 188 ziss 131 Dialects (Swabian. Bav- arian, Tykolese, Swiss, ETC.) basele 216 basl 216 444 INDEX I bua 222 biihli 222 bul 222 drud 181 fel 208 fenstern 146 fddel 208 frid 173 fridbann 173 fridhag 173 fridgatter 173 fridzaun 173 friund 167 frunt 168 fud 113 gefride 173 gefiklach 208 gehai 128 gelobtaiiz 176 geniachmiihl 144 gemach'l 144 gemachzaim 144 geniaht 142 gemahti 142 geschwie 231 geschwein 231 geswagerlich 231 geswistrige 141 god 214 godl 214 gottheit 214 gottenloffel 214 gsweyen 231 haaggeld 137 haghenne 137 hagsch 130 hai 128 heierlos 410 heimgarten 411 hijgaten 124 kar 189 kiltgang 407-412 kindermachen 138 kund, kuut 118 kundeln 118 kunta 118 lobetanz 176 16s 113 machen 142 miigdeheyer 124 maelen 146 maellen 149 mahlleute 148 mahlmann 146, 148, 172 malpfenning 146 malet 146 mogen 142 miigen 142 obmann 147, 164 rammeln 123 sohiierin 226 schwager 231, 234 schwaig 231 schwaiger 231 schwaigerin 231 schwega 228 schwer 228 tatte 208 tattl 208 teite 208 trud 181 tnittl 181 ungeheit 124 virgatum gehen 155 Low German — Old and Modern ackermome 202 beswas 122 bruen 120 briiden 120 briiben 120 briimeu 119 brutloft 176 bur 187 burmal 187 burmester 187 burrichte 1S7 burschap 187 bursprake 1S7 eselmome 202 fedethom 218 fedrietliom 218 frijte 166 gaden 153 gadder 156 gaderheren 155 gat 152, 153, 155 gedelik 154 gevatere 211 grotemome 202 heie 126, 129 hie 126, 129 hienman 126, 129 hige 126, 129 higeman 126, 129 hundemome 202 lovebber 176 moder 199 molt 200 mome 202-3 mum 202 neve 219 nichte 219 nicliteke 219 ohm 215 sibbert 161 vade 217 vadder 211 vadderkols 211 vaddersehe 211 vadderspel 211 vedder 209 viehmome 202 vorgaddem 154 vorgaden 154 vorgaderung 155, 195, 242 vriundin 168 vrunt 167 vruntelink 167 wasa 216 weidegat 152 wisemome 202 Dutch baas 217 huwbaer 125 huwen 125 maet 140 ueef 219 s wager 231 swaseline 122 swasenede 122 trowen 179 vade 218 vrieud 167 \Tijeu 166 widewe 237 Slavonic anyta (Lith.) 229 brati (O.S.) 121 bratsvo (O.S.) 164 deveris (Lith.) 236 draudse (Lett.) 1S3 draudsiba (Lett.) 183 drafigalka (Lith.) 183 drauge (Lith.) 183 draugs (Lett.) 183 drevo (O.S.) 178 driiitas (Lith.) 182 druginja (Suss.) 183 drugu (Russ.) 183 drugu (O.S.) 183 druh (Czech) 183 druha (Czech) 183 druzba (Pol.) 183 druzny (Czech) 183 gente (Lith.) 225, 234 geseppe (Czech) 162 gesippe (Pruss.) 162 gesoppe (Czech) 161 gesuppe (Czech) 162 grada (O.S.) 164 grauds (Lett.) 149 iatrew (Pol.) 235 jatrev (Czech) 235 jetry (O.S.) 234 WORDS AND ROOTS 445 jetrva (Serb.) 235 kar&t {Lett.) 177 kdrs (Lett.) 177 knez (O.S.) 164 kochati (O.S.) 177 knilj (O.S.) 189 krol (O.S.) 189 l.jub (O.S.) 175 l.juba (0.5.) 175 maczemica (Oberl.) 197 niatka (Buss.) 197 mote (£t£A.) 201 po-sivu (O.S.) 134 Prije (CfeecA) 168 pritel (Czech) 166 prove (Wend.) 171 4-logu (0.5.) 130 saluba (0. Pruss.) 177 sebras (Liih.) 162 sebru (0.5.) 162 seserynai (Lith.) 235 sewa (ie«.) 125 snacha (Csec/i) 226 supiini (0. Pruss.) 163 svatu (0.5.) 233 sve'koru (2Jmss.) 228, 232 svekovi (Russ.) 232 svekru (0.5.) 228 svoja (0.5.) 233 svojack (Russ.) 232 svotai (Z?YA.) 233 swiekier (Pol.) 228 synocha (0.5.) 226 synowa (Po/.) 226 szesziuras (Lith.) 228 tata (CsecA) 208 vedu (Z//A.) 227 veszpatis (/.///,.) 190 vidova (O.S.) 237 visi (O.S.) 190 voditi (0.5.) 227 vozdi (O.S.) 227 waduti (£#A.) 227 wedekle (Lith.) 227 zelva (Czech) 234 z'entas (Z#A.) 225 zluva (0.5.) 234 zupa (0.5.) 163 zupan (O.S.) 163, 164, 172, 205 zupanus (O.S.) 164 zupnik (0.5.) 163 zupone (Lith.) 163 zuppa (O.S.) 164 WOEDS IN APPENDICES L, III., AND IV. Aryan mi-, nud- 429 rag-, rez- 426 Sanskrit nand 429 rajan 426 rej 427 Greek opyddes 428 opyds 426, 428 opydu 428 opyewv 428 opyewvr/ 428 opyq 428 opeyu 426 Latin cultus 425 erigo 426, 428 regere 426 rex 426 sulcus 424 vomer 424 Celtic rhi ( Welsh) 426 rhiant (Welsh) 426 rhiain ( Welsh) 427 ri (7n's/() 427 rig (Gaelic) 427 rigan (Irish) 426 Anglo-Saxon beneotan 429 cveld 412 geneat 430 gmiedon 430 neod 430 niotan 429 rice 426 wifjjing 412 Friesian nieta 429 aiod 429 not 429 English plough 425 reach 427 regal 427 rich 427 rig 428 rigge 428 right 427 righten 427 tilth 425 Scandinavian benytte (D.) 429 kelta (led.) 412 kilta (5.) 412 kveld (O.N.) 412 naut (L.) 429 nautna (O.N.) 429 nautr (O.N.) 430 neyta (led.) 429 niota (O.N.) 429 njota (led.) 429 nyde (5.) 429 nyt (O.N.) 429 nytte (D.) 429 ragna (O.N.) 428 ratt (5.) 427 regin (O.N.) 428 ret (D.) 427 rett (O.N.) 427 rett (L.) 427 rettr (O.N.) 427 rige (D.) 426 riki (O.A~.) 426 Teutonic Root rak-, rag- 426 Gothic ganiutan 429 kilthei 412 446 WORDS IN APPENDICES I, III, AND IV. reiki 426 reiks 426 reiran 427 reks 426 niutan 429 nuta 429 Old High German chwiltiwerch 412 ganoz 430 ganozinna 430 ganGzon 430 ganozsami 430 gauOzsamon 430 ganozscaf 430, 431 gart 411 hayngart 411, 426 hileili 410 huskinozi 430 kastalt 427 kinoz 430 kinozsam 430 niot 429 niotsam 430 niozan 429 nutz 429 rihhi 426 unganoz 430 uuganozanii 430 Middle High German brotgenossen 431 genieze 430 genuze 430 genuzinne 430 hageri 427 kegerding 427 hegermamii 427 heigertanz 410 niezen 429 rey 427 reye 427 reyge 427 ungenoz 430 German bukllieder 411 eidgenossen 430 furche 424 genieszen 429, 430 genieszung 430 genossenschaft 430, 431 genusz 430, 432 gericht 427 hag 427 hagestolz 427 heger 427 mailelm 407-409 markgenossen 431 mitzen 429 pfliigeu 424 reich 426 reige 427 reilie 427 German Dialects alpgenossen 431 biihli 408 fastenbiihli 408 fenstern 409, 410 fryggeding 432 fugen 409 gasslein g£n 409, 410 gnuss 432 gungelstube 409 heierleis 410 heimal 432 heimgarten 411 hochstube 411 karz 409 kilt 409, 412 kiltbraten 410 kiltgang 407, 412 Kirmes 408 kunkelstube 409 lehntgen-rufen 407 letze 410 lichtstube 409 mitgeriossig 430 rockenstube 409 spinnstube 409 imgenossig 430 weidgenossen 431 Low German geneten 432 genot 430 re'en 428 rege 427 reien 428 reige 427 Dctch boelkin 408 genoot 430 gkeck 408 heelghesel 408 LlTHUANIAN kiltis 412 nauda 429 pamisti 429 INDEX IL-NAMES AXD SUBJECTS ABYS8IN1ANS, fertility of i. 85 Acquoy, " Het Klooster te Windesheim " ii. 371 ftn. . legend of ii. 201 Addison, "The Bills of Mortality" i. 19 Adorat n. "293-295 Advantage of the bank (Monte Carlo roulette) i. 47 Agamemnon ii. 5S, 107 dyopo ii. 157-158, 242, 411 Agriculture : see Goddess of Ainos, mean and standard deviation, of cephalic index i. 290 ; of long bones i. 303 ; of skull capacity i. 340 Alabastor, " "Wheel of the Law " ii. 323 ftn. Alaskans, fertility of i. S5 Aleutians, fertility of i. N " Alteneck, "Trachten des Mittelalters " ii. 264 ftn., 391 ftn. Altorfer ii. 3S6 ftn.. 3S9 ftn. Amalungs, the ii. 107 ftn. Americans, children, mean and standard deviation, of stature i. 296 ; of body weight i. 307 ; of chest girth i. 310 ; of height sitting, of squeeze of hands i. 314 ; of head index i. 359 Amman, 0., "Die naturliehe Auslese beim Menschen" i. 132 ftn., 28S ftn. Amphimixis, "Weisniann's theory of i. 104 Amtmannspiel ii. 146 Anaitis ii. 150, 170 Andamanese, mean and standard devia- tion, of cephalic index i. 290, 370 ; of skull capacity i. 343 Angels, dance of ii. 337-339, 42S ftn. Angle, alveolar, mean and standard deviation of i. 324, 325 Angle, profile, mean and standard deviation of i. 323 Anglo-Saxon*, mean and standard devia- tion, of cephalic index i. 290 ; of skull capacity i. 305 AnsteU, C, "Rate of Mortality" i. 92 Apaturia, the ii. 122 Arnsteiner Marienleich ii. 182 ftn., 356 ftn. Ars Manendi ii. 330, 332, 340 ftn. Artemis ii. 122, 157 Aryans, primitive ii. 98, 101 Aschenputtel ii. 146 : see Askelad pattleii. 51-91, 107, 236 : seeAskelad Askelad (or Dummling) ii. 76, 77, 87, 89 Astarte ii. 170 Athene ii. 131, 157 Atom i. 152 Atom, prime i. 154, 385 Aunt, words for ii. 201, 216 Australians, fertility of i. 85: mean and standard deviation of cephalic in- dex i. 290, 370 Bacchus ii. 222 Bachelor ii. 130 Bachofen, " Die Sage von Tanaquil " ii. 110 ftn.. 131. 202 Badensia us, Modem, mean and standard deviation, of face index i. 326 ; of cephalic index i. 356 Bairn ii. 140 Bale, John ii. 403 ftn. Balfour, Arthur J., "Foundations of Belief," criticism of i. 173-225. 382 Baptism, heathen ii. 213 . A. 11., measurements of White- chapel skulls i. 351 B '■' . K., "Germania " ii. 376 ftn. Base, aunt, idea associated with ii. 2 Bauer, its derivation ii. 184 448 INDEX II Bavarians, mean and .standard deviation, of alveolar i. 324 ; of brain weight i. 322 ; of cephalic index i. 290, 354 ; of eyes i. 327; of roundness of forehead i. 326 ; of skull capacity i. 333 ; of skull cir- cumference i. 356 ; of stature i. 295 Bechstein, "Wartburg Bibliothek " ii. 339 ftn. Bedouins, fertility of i. 85 Bt Igians, mean and standard deviation of weights of new-born infants i. 307 Bencdictus Levita, prohibition of dancing in churches ii. 17 Bengal, Brahmans of, mean and standard deviation of cephalic index i. 290 Mahomedans of Eastern, mean and standard deviation, of cephalic index i. 290 ; of head index i. 289 ftn. Sonthals of Western, mean and standard deviation of head index i. 289 ftn. Beowulf n. 186 Berchta, goddess of fruition ii. 28, 29, 106 Bern, dance of death i. 7 Berthold, Brother ii. 213 Bertrand i. 62 Biblia Pauperwm ii. 265, 266 Bil (tribal-mother of the Billings) ii. 107 ftn. Biiiinger, " Aus Schwaben " ii. 338 ftn., 410 ftn. Bischqffi. 285, 295 ftn., 306, 322 Blanc, M. i. 45, 57 Blow, swiftness of, mean and standard deviation of i. 311 Bones, long, mean and standard devia- tion of i. 299-305 Boniface ii. 213 Bonner, "Life of Bradlaugh " i. 380 Bopp ii. 118, 122, 229 Boyd (statistics of weight of hearts) i. 285 ftn., 320 Bradlaugh, C. i. 189 Brcciarium Frisingense ii. 300 ftn. Breviarius Harelbergensis ii. 297 ftn., 300 ftn. Bride ii. 118, 148 ftn., 177 Brigit (Celtic tribal-mother) ii. 107 ftn. British, ancient, mean and standard deviation, of cephalic index i. 290, 363 ; of skull capacity i. 337 Broca (statistics) i. 285 ftn., 329, 330, 352 Brooms (as symbols of witch) ii. 23, 29, 30 Brooms, offerings of ii. 20 Brother, as the breeder ii. 120, 121 Brother-in-law ii. 230, 232, 236 Brother-sister marriage ii. 104, 121, 123, 169, 174, 219 Brueil (bones at) i. 298 Brilggermann, H. ii. 318 ftu. Brunnenfege, feast of the ii. 41 Bitcher ii. 181 Buchner i. 152, 188, 3S0 Burgkmair ii. 386 ftn. Burial-service ii. 201 Bushmen, mean and standard deviation of cephalic index i. 290 CANARIES, ancient inhabitants of the, mean and standard deviation of femur i. 301 Capacity, breathing, mean and standard deviation of i. 311 Capacity, skull, mean and standard deviation of i. 285 ftn., 328-349 Card-drawing, diagram of i. 13 Ca/rmina Burana : see Schmeller Carpenter, E., '"Woman" i. 258 ftn. Cat, the attendant on mother-goddess ii. 167 Celibates, words for ii. 129 Cellini, Benvenwto, vision of ii. 326, 366 Celts, early ii. 107 Cephalic Index : see Index Cerealia ii. 171 Chalceia, the ii. 122 ( %ampollwn-Figeac : see Hilarius Chance, association of death and i. 2 ,, ,, dice and i. 2 Diagram of games of i. 13 General principles of theory of i. 11 Lord Salisbury's appeal to i. 167, 168 Mediaeval conception of, as chaotic i. 2 Modern conception of, as obedient to law i. 2 Scientific conception of i. 43 Charity, evolution of ii. 178 Charles, It. Havelock, "Craniometry of the Outcaste Tribes of the Panjab " i. 341, 368 Chaucer ii. 150 Children- in-lavj, words for ii. 224 Chinese, mean and standard deviation, of cephalic index i. 290, 350 ; of skull capacity i. 342 Chorus, its association with feast, religious ceremony, and staked in- closureii. 136, 158, 411 Christ, as portraved in the passion-plays ii. 329, 330, 349 Chuhras, Lahore, mean and standard deviation of head index i. 289 ftn. Civilisation of Women, early ii. 97, 130, 170, 240 NAMES AND SUBJECTS 449 inning (statistics) i. 316, 320, 321 Coin-tossing, diagram of i. 13 I is, F. Howard (statistics) i. 69, 73, 76, 88, 92 Comedt/, its origin ii. 136 Constants, variation of fertility i. 67 Correlation, as a measure of heredity i. 63, 65 Correlation between fertility and size of an organ i. 65 Co-si cuai Com/* vwnity, words applied to ii. 138 et seq. Cosmic process, Huxley's contrast with ethical process i. 110, 122 Cotta, on good and bad witches ii. 11 ;il, Group ii. 126, 137, 155, 15S, 173 wing, diagram of i. 13 hip, as fossil of sexual freedom ii. 165 r, E. de, "Drames Liturgiques" ii. 302 ftn. ■de ii. 105 Oranach, ii. 262 ftn., 263, 331 ftn., 346 ftn., 386 ftn., 391 ftn. Crania Britannica i. 335-338, 362-365 Germaniae i. 325, 355, 356, 361 Helvetia', i. 291, 336, 360, 361 I ,, Sectarian i. 379-38S Cruelty, element of, in mother -goddess ii. 106 ' ius ii. 131 Dame Trot ii. 181 /- ces ami Jingles, children's ii. 95, 115 Dances, bacchanalian, of women ii. 105, 133, 427, 428 ; St. Lawrence and Whit- suntide ii. 176 ; symbolic, in passion- plays ii. 339-343. 4 28 Dancing, choral ii. 105. 109, 133. 135, 136. 157, 165. 428 Dante, reference to dice i. 2 baru-in. " Animals and Plants under Domestication " i. 157 ftn. 258 ; " De- scent of Man" i. 128, 129; "Origin of Species " i. 106, 107, 12S Daughti r ii. 222 Daughter-in-law ii. 225 ; endogamous and exogamous terms ii. 22S David, Gerard ii. 391 ftn. Davie*. "Rites of the Cathedral of Dur- ham " ii. 296 ftn. l)",-is. Barnard, "Thesaurus C'ranio- ruiu " i. 328, 329, 335. 342, 350, 353 . J. II. (statistics) i. 38 Death, Chances of i. 1-41 ; Dance of i. 1, 2, 7, 8, 11, 25, 39, 41, ii. 270 ftn. ; goddess of ii. 16S, 175, 200 VOL II. ii. 100, 101. 102, 118, 148, 155, 162, 192, 204 Demeter ii. 122, 150, 170, 171, 193, 199, 202 • ark, mean and standard deviation of cephalic index of Aborigines of Swe- den and i. 365 1), motion, Standard, as concentration of frequency about the mean i. 17, 18, 50. 262 " ndard deviation of standard i. 52 />■ '. as represented in the passion- plays ii. 357-359 DeviFs mother ii. 27, 202, 371 /' \Us, dance of ii. 337-339 De Whaliey, I. G. (statistics) i. 45, 48, 49, 53, 55, 56 Dice i. 2, 11, 12 ; diagram i. 13 Didron, " Iconographie chretienne" ii. 261, 329 ftn., 330 ftn., 332 ftn., 376 ftn., 385 ftn., 388 ftn., 391 ftn. Dietrich ii. 386 ftn. ival ii. 159 Diphtheria, curve of i. 33 Distribution or' frequency, law of i. 14, 15 Don ii. 108 Drude ii. 181 Du Bois-Reymond, "Maupertuis" i. 225 ge ii. 164. 211, 212. 235 Duckworth, W. L. II. (statistics) i. 370 Dn Merit, "Origines latines du theatre moderne " ii. 288 ftn., 304 ftn. Dummling ; see A - Durandus, "Rationale divinorum Ofti- ciorum" ii. 295 ftn. Dihrer, A. ii. 260-263, 310 ftn., 321 ftn., 326 ftn., 329 ftn., 340 ftn., 341 ftn., 346, 347. 352. 371, 372 ftn., 3S6 ftn., 391 ftn., 393 ftn. Dutch, mean and standard deviation of cephalic index i. 354 Dyer, H. "Evolution of Industry" i. 226 ftn. Ecker, "Crania Germaniae " i. 325, 355. 356 Edda ii. 132. 142. 151, 160. 169 Egyptians, mean and standard deviation of cephalic index i. 366 Eleusinia ii. 171 El ' ii. 295-299 Ellis, Havelock, "Man and Woman" i. 256-266 Elsasser, weights of German babies i. 308 Endogamy, primitive ii. 56, 140, 165, 18S ; modern ii. 140, 141. 431. 432 2 G 45° INDEX II English, mean and standard deviation of cephalic index i. 350, 351 ; of body weight i. 305 ; of breathing capacity i. 311 ; of keenness of sight i. 311, 313 ; of left forearm i. 304 ; of skull capacity 328-330 ; of span and stature i. 294, 299 ; of strength of pull i. 311, 313 ; of strength of squeeze i. 311, 313 ; of swiftness of blow i. 311 : of weight of brain i. 320, 321 ; of weight of heart i. 316 Epistemology, A. J. Balfour's use of word i. 180 Error, mean i. 59 probable i. 76 Ethics, relative ii. 93, 145, 247 Exogamy ii. 56, 215, 236, 244 Exposure of children ii. 212 Eyesight, mean and standard deviation of i. 311, 313 FADDY-DANCh (in Cornwall) ii. 41 Fairy Talcs German — Allerleirauh ii. 71 (princess a ser- vant) 89, 90 (prince a kitchen lad) Aschenputtel ii. S3 (religious cere- mony at marriage) 84, 85, 88-99 (mother-right) Briiderchen und Schwesterchen ii. 63 ftn., 72 ftn. (closeness of feel- ing between brothers and sisters) Bruder Lustig ii. 73 (influence of women) Cinderella ii. 84, 85, 86, 89 (per- verted version of " Hans seeks his Luck") Das blaue Licht i. 60 (witch a cave- dweller) 76 ftn. (soldier hero) 79 Das Eselein ii. 76 ftn. (hero a king's son) 79 Das Hirtenbublein ii. 71 Das Madchen ohne Hande ii. 67 ftn. (patriarchate) 73 (influence of women) Das Rathsel ii. 62, 63 (witch evil) 73 (influence of women) 76 (hero a king's son) Das singende springende Lowenec- kerchen ii. 72 ftn. (wizard) 82 (kindred group-marriage) Das tapfere Schneiderlein ii. 75 ftn. (tailor hero) 79 Das Waldhaus ii. 69 (peasant bride) Das Wasser des Lebens ii. 72 ftn., 76 ftn. (hero a king's son) 79 De beiden Kiiiiigeskmner ii. 65 De drei Viigelkens ii. 64, 68, 69 Der arme Miihlerbursch ii. 70 (pea- sant bridegroom) 73 (influence of women) 76 ftn. (low-born hero) Der Eisenofen ii. 71, 76 ftn. (hero a king's son) Der gelernte Jiiger ii. 75 ftn. (hun- ter hero) 79 Der Gevatter Tod ii. 75 ftn. (pea- sant hero) 79 Der glaserne Sarg ii. 75 ftn. (tailor hero) Der gute Handel ii. 73 (influence of queen) Der junge Riese ii. 85 ftn. Der Konigssohn der sich vor nichts fiirchtet ii. 73 (influence of women) 75 ftn. (hero a king's son) 83 Der Konig vom goldenen Berge ii. 71, 73 (influence of women) 75 (mother - right) 76 ftn. (hero lowly) 82 (kindred group - mar- riage) Der Krautesel ii. 64 (white witch) 65 Der liebste Roland ii. 63 (witch evil, patriarchate) 82 (kindred group-marriage) Der Ranzen, das Hiitlein, und das Hornlein ii. 75 ftn. (peasant hero) Der Rauber -und seine Sohne ii. 73 (influence of queen) Der singende Knochen ii. 75 ftn. (peasant hero) Der Starke Hans ii. 75 ftn. (hero low-born) Der siisse Brei ii. 64 (white witch) Der Teufel mit den drei goldenen Haaren ii. 75 ftn. (peasant hero) Der treue Johannes ii. 67 ftn. (pat- riarchate) 83 (religious ceremony at marriage) Der Trommler ii. 65, 73 (influence of queen) ii. 76 ftn. (hero low born) 83 Der Vogel Greif ii. 68 ftn., 73 ftn. (influence of women) 75 ftn. (low-born hero) 79 Des Teufels russiger Bruder ii. 76 ftn. (soldier hero) 79 Die beiden Wanderer ii. 75 ftn. (tailor hero) Die Bienenkonigin ii. 76 ftn. (hero a king's son) 79, 82 (kindred group-marriage) Die drei Fedem ii. 69 (peasant bride) Die drei Schlangenblatter ii. 75 ftn. (mother-right) 79 (peasant hero) Die drei Spinnerinnen ii. 6S (dili- gent bride) 73 (influence of queen) NAMES AXD SUBJECTS 45i Die Erbsenprobe ii. 73 (influence of queen) Die Gansehirtin am Brunnen ii. 61 (matriarchate) 70, 76 i'tn. (hero a count) Die Gansemagd ii. 65, 70, 71 Die goldene Gans ii. 76 ftn., SO Die Goldkinder ii. 64 Die kluge Bauerntochter ii. 69 (peasant bride) Die Nixe am Teich ii. 6-1 (white witch) Die Rabe ii. 64 (matriarchate) 76 ftn., 85 Die sechs Diener ii. 65 (queen a witch) 67 (patriarchate, church) 71, 73, 76 ftn. (hero a king's son) 83 (religious ceremony at marriage) Die sechs - Schwane ii. 63 (close- ness of feeling between brothers and sisters) 73 (influence of women) Die vier kunstreichen Briider ii. 75 ftn. (peasant hero) 79 Die wahre Braut ii. 64 (white witch) 70, 83 (kindred group- marriage) Die weisse Schlange ii. 73 (influence of women) 76 ftn. (servant hero) 79 Die weisse und die schwarze Braut ii. 69 (peasant bride) Die zertanzten Schuhe ii. 76 ftn. (soldier hero) 79, 81 (kindred group-marriage) Die zwei Briider ii. 63, 64 (witch evil, hunter) 76 ftn. (hero lowly) 79 Die zwolf Briider ii. 62 (decay of matriarchal system) 63 ftn. (closeness of feeling between brothers and sisters) 75 (mother- right) 76 ftn. (hero a king's son) Die zwolf Jager ii. 73 (influence of women) Dornroschen ii. 76 ftn. (hero a king's son) Einauglein, Zweiauglein nndDreiau- glein ii. 64 (white witch) Pitchers Vogel ii. 72 ftn. (wizard) Froschkonig ii. 60 (witch evil) Hansel und Grethel ii. 62 (witch evil) Hans mein Igel ii. 75 ftn. (hero lowly) 79 Jorinde und Joringel ii. 63 ftn. S3 Konig Drosselbart ii. 67 ftn. (patri- archate ; church) Marchen von einem der auszog Fiir- chten zu lernen ii. 75 ftn. (peasant hero) 79 Rapunzel ii. 60 (hostility of witch to new form of marriage) Rumpelstilzchen ii. 69 (diligent bride) Schneewittchen ii. 62, 63 (witch evil, patriarchate) 65 (queen a witch) Sechse konimen durch die ganze Welt ii. 76 ftn. (soldier hero) Spindel, Webersehitfehen und Nadel ii. 64 (whit.- witch) 69 (diligent bride) Yom klugen Schneiderlein ii. 75 ftn. (tailor hero) S3 (religious cere- mony at marriage) Lapp — Alder -tree Boy ii. 77 ftn. (hero lowly), 81 (woman heir) 85 ftn. Family Strong ii. 85 The Boy and the Hare ii. SI (woman heir) The Giant- Bird ii. S2 (kindred group-marriage) The Humane Man and the Angel ii. 72 ftn. The King and the Louse ii. 71 ftn., 77 ftn. (hero lowlv) The Luck- Bird ii. 72 ftn. The Silkweaver and her Husband ii. 70 ftn. (peasant bridegroom) 77 ftn. (hero lowly) The Three Brothers ii. 77 ftn. (hero lowly) 88 The Tschuds and Eussleleaf ii. 82 (kindred group-marriage) The Tschuds in Sundegjeld ii. S2 (kindred group-marriage) Norse — Askeladden, som fik Prindsessen til at lpgste sig ii. 71, 77 ftn., SO (woman heir) De syv Folerue ii. 77 ftn. (hero Askelad) 78, SO (woman heir) De tolv Vildaender ii. 75 ftn. (prin- cess the heir-apparent) De tre Prindsesser i Hvidtenland ii. 77 ftn. (hero a fisher-lad) Det blaa Baaudet ii. 77 ftn. (hero lowly) Det har ingen Nod med den, soni alle Kvindfolk er forlibt i, ii. 77 ftn. (hero Askelad) 81 (woman heir) Eiikcsonnen ii. 77 ftn. (hero lowly) 80 (woman heir) Fugl Dam ii. 71 ftn., 77 ftn. (hero a king's son) 80 (woman heir) 45- INDEX II Grimsborken ii. 72 ftn., 77 ftn. (peasant hero) 80 (woman heir) Haaken Borkenskjaeg ii. 71 Herreper ii. 77 ftn. (hero lowly) 80 (woman heir) Jomfruen paa Glasberget ii. 77 ftn. (peasant hero) 80, 87 (woman heir) Kari Traestak ii. 70 Lillekort ii. 77 ftn. (hero lowly) 80 (woman heir) Om Askeladden som stjal Troldets Splvaender Sengeteppe og Guld- harpe ii. 77 ftn.. SO (woman heir) Om Risen, som ikke havde noget Hjerte paa sig ii. 77 ftn. (hero a king's son) Per og Paal og Esben Askelad ii. 70, 77 ftn., 80 (woman heir) Rige Per Kraemmer ii. 72 ftn., 77 ftn. (hero a miller's lad) 80 (woman heir) Soria Moria Slot ii. 71 ftn., 77 ftn. (hero Askelad) Spurningen ii. 77 ftn. (hero Askelad) SO (woman heir) Trog og Utro ii. 70, 77 ftn. (hero lowly) 80 (woman heir) Vesle Aase Gaasepige ii. 69 Fasciculus Temporum ii. 260, 267 ftn., 325 ftn. Fastnacht ii. 137 Fastnachtsjnele ii. 153, 208 Father, its derivation ii. 205 Father-age ii. 49 : see Patriot Father-in-law, names for ii. 228 Father's brother, names for ii. 208 Father s sister, names for ii. 215 February, the month for sex-festivals ii. 158 Femur, mean and standard deviation of i. 300-303 /' a ii. 128, 137. 156, 158, 173, 178, 411 Fertility, artificial break in curve of i. 68 curve of i. S7 differential i. 67 ftn. goddess of: see Goddess of gross i. 70 inheritance of i. 81, 82 natural i. 67 net i. 70 Fever, enteric, distribution of i. 21, 22 . scarlet, distribution of i. 33 Fick ii. 119, 134, 155, 178, 189, 208, 226, 227 Fijians, mean ami standard deviation of cephalic index i. 290 Fire-sticks ii. 112, 120, 123, 149, 190 Fischart ii. 176 Fison and Hewitt "Kamilaroi and Ku- mai " ii. 65 Fivelingoer Landregt ii. 17, 133 Flinders Petrie i. 280, 299, 339, 367 Flint, "Socialism" i. 175 ftn. Flijyel, "Geschichte des Grotesk-Komis- chen " ii. 275 ftn., 282 ftn., 324 ftn., 325 ftn., 365 ftn. Folz, Hans ii. 376 ftn. Forearm, mean and standard deviation of i. 304 Forehead, mean and standard deviation >of roundness of i. 326 Fossils in language, folklore, custom. etc. ii. 94, 147, 148, 151 Franck, S., "History Bible" ii. 260, 266, 267 ftn. Fr atria ii. 135 Free, its double sense ii. 171-174 French, sexual ratio of i. 285 ftn. ; mean and standard deviation of brain weight i. 322 ; of cephalic index i. 290, 352, 353 ; of femur i. 302 ; of humerus i. 302 ; of radius i. 32 ; of skull capacity i. 330 ; of span and of stature i. 295 ; of tibia i. 302 Frequency, curve of i. 16, 272 et seq. Frequency, range of i. 18, 275 Freya ii. 42, 122 Freyja ii. 168, 169. 170, 174, 175, 199 Freyr ii. 122, 167, 174, 175 Freytag, G., "De initiis scenicae poesis apud Germanos " ii. 284 ftn. Fricke ii. 42, 44 Friend, the root of ii. 167 Frigg ii. 198 Friesians, Ancient, mean and standard deviation of cephalic index i. 290 ; of skull capacity, 335 Frua (see Fru) ii. 115, 131, 168 Fr& ii. 106, 16S, 170 Fruti ii. 119 Filessener Todtentanz i. 2 Furnival ii. 392 ftn. Gaea ii. 108 Galabin i. :J7 Gallon, Francis i. 19, 76, S3. 104. 129. 134, 258 ftn., 294, 299, 310, 315 " Natural Inheritance " i. 305, 311 Gaugenossen, ii. 139: see Index I. genossen Gauls, Ancient, mean and standard deviation of cephalic index i. 290 362 Gauss, il Law of Frecpiency " i. 274 ftn. Geffcken, "Der Bildercatechismus des ftinfzehnten Jahrhunderts " ii. 277 ftn., 332 ftn.. 340 ftn., 385 ftn. NAMES AND SUBJECTS 453 male name ii. 107 nschaft 429 ■• Life of St. Udalric " ii. 378 ftn. <;■ richt 426 tsmahl ii. 146, 147, 427 Gerichtspiel ii. 146 • ■it, mean and standard deviation of cephalic index i. 361 ; of body weight i. 306 ; of brain weight i. 322 ; of profile angle i. 323 ; of skull capa- city i. 333, 334 ; of stature i. 295 plasm i. 104 '•■ rinus ii. 287 ftn. < ii. 85 ftn. GH'I id. tabulation of roulette returns i. 55 Giest brecht, " Vaganten oder Goliarden " ii. 304 ftn. Girth, chest, mean and standard devia- tion of i. 310 sacrificial ii. 136, 137 •x of agriculture ii. 106, 123, 160, 170 95 of fertility ii. 105, 110, 122, 123, 131, 145. 150, 157, 160, 168, 169, 170, 193, 200, 240 Gode, weather witch ii. 27. 42 ; goddess of fruition ii. 106, 214 ii. 210-214 ii. 210-214 . as lovers of goddesses ii. 108, 123 Goethe ii. 150 ds (strolling players) ii. 306 . glosses of O.H.G. words ii. 100, 120,192, 215 Grien, II. Baldung ii. 386 ftn. Grimm, J. ii. 100, 196, 213, 220, 222, 224, 227, 304 ftn. "Deutsche M vthologie " ii. 131, 321 ftn., 33S ftn.. 357 ftn., 358 ftn., 381 ■• Weisthtimer " ii. 431 "Worterbuch" ii. 197, 429 Grimms' Fairy Tales ii. 51-91, 146 Group-dwelling ii. 106, 136, 148, 173 Group-Meal : see Mi al ■ i, > -* < rs" ii. 277 elfinger's "Entombment" ii. 389, 390 EABCKEL i. Ill, 112, 123, 3S3, 3S6 ; •• Preie Wissenschaft and freie Lehre" i. 107 IIcdj (fenced inclosure) ii. 14, 130, 137 ii. 14, 129 Hahnenschlag ii. 40 II . " Penitentionarius de Confes- sione " ii. 336 ftn. Handfasting ii. 25 !l - ' -Luck ii. 228 Hartmann, " Oberammergauer Passions- spier' ii. _ 12; "Weihnacht- Lied u. Spiel " ii. 281 ftn. // .1' .. •' Der christliehe Glaube des deutschen Volkes" ii. - J77 ftn. Heart, mean and standard deviation of i. 316, 317 ii. 96 Book i. 4, 7 // I; tdall ii. 203 ii. 141 //. imgarten ii. 411, 111! oms, as protection against v ii. 35 Hd ii. 108 '. the ii. 179, 186 Hera ii. 123, 240 Heredity, correlation as the measure of i. 63 Herrad von Landsberg, "Hortus Delici- arum " ii. 260, 285.' 2S6, 326 ftn. Ht Be, as champion of mother -right ii. 57, 130; as priestess of moth.! dess ii. 54 ; derivation of ii. 14, 130 mhl ii. 137, 151, 412 HUarius ii. 305 ftn., 376 ftn., 395 ftn. Hilde (goddess of fruition) ii. 104 // ' • ' , John of ii. 327 His and Rutemeyer, " Crania Helvetica " i. 291, 336, 360, 361 Hi . as a fossil ii. 126 Hockfedt r, ( '•■ vpar ii. 387 ftn. // L 1, S, 9, 40; ii. 263, 331 ftn., 346 ftn., 366 ftn., 383 ftn., 391 ftn. ii 182 HoUe ii. 29, 37, 42, 41, 63, 169 Home ii. 128 Hortulus Animae ii. 351 ftn., 366 ftn., 3S0 ftn., 387 ftn. Hottentots, fertility of i. 85 ; mean and standard deviation of cephalic index i. 290 Householder and h ii. 190 Hrotnoitha ii. i^S. 326 ftn. Hubatsch, "Die lateinischen Vaganten- lieder des Mittelalters " ii. 304 ftn. Humerus, mean and standard deviation of i. 300, 302, 303 Huntiri ii. 104, 151 Hhs, "De Ecclesia" ii. 393 ftn. Husband, ii. 195 . words for ii. 236 Hus> .■•■' •'. "Emblems of Saints" ii. 266 ftn. Huxley, "Collected Essays" i. 156 "Evolution and Ethics" i. 110, 111, 112 Iliad, the ii. 157 Iivh ,_■. Cephalic — as a test of variability i. 2^3-293 454 INDEX II Index, " Cephalic — definition of i. 269 mean and standard deviation of i. 349-372 table of i. 290 variation in i. 371 Index, Eye, mean and standard deviation of i. 327 Forehead-breadth ditto i. 326 Kallmann's ditto i. 325 Nose ditto i. 327, 328 Indians, American, fertility of i. 85 ; use of the mill ii. 149 Isisii. 122, 150, 170 Italians, mean and standard deviation of cephalic index i. 353 ; of skull capacity i. 332 JACOB, J., "Studies in Jewish Statistics" i. 258 ftn. Janssen, J., "An meine Kritiker " ii. 351 ftn.' " Geschichte des deutschen Volkes " ii. 277 ftn. Jews, mean and standard deviation of cephalic index i. 290, 349 Mediseval exaggeration of brutality of ii. 344-347 Joan of Arc, as white witch or folk- leader ii. 12 Jord ii. 160 Jubinal, "Mysteres inedits" ii. 276 ftn., 306 ftn., 322 ftn., 325 ftn., 345 ftn., 361 ftn., 371 ftn., 372 ftn., 377 ftn., 380 ftn., 384 ftn., 385 ftn., 390-396 ftn. Judas, as portrayed in passion-plays ii. 346, 359, 360 Katsersberg, Geiler yon ii. 202, 277 ftn., 401 Kanakas, mean and standard deviation of skull capacity i. 342 Karl the Great ii. 150 ; Cartulary of ii. 211 Kehrein. ii. 200 Keller, "Bauriss des Klosters St. Gallen " ii. 315 ftn. Kelvin, Lord, "Geological Dynamics" i. 157 " Popular Lectures " i. 156, 158 Kidd, B., " Social Evolution " i. 113- 178 Kidney, mean and standard deviation of i. 318 Kilt and Kiltgang ii. 407-412 Kin, source of kindliness ii. 135, 144. 154, 160, 171, 172, 185 Kin-chief, ii. 138, 163, 205 "Kindle, notion in ii. 112 Kindred, group-marriage ii. 219 status of men in ii. 103, 201 supported by words for brother- and sister-in-law ii. 236 Kin-group, as primitive social unit ii. 171 Kinship, the basis of civilisation ii. 145 through the woman ii. 188 King ii. 116 ; power derived from queen ii. 117 King, " History of the Apostles' Creed " ii. 396 ftn. Kirmes ii. 19, 20, 44, 133, 146, 284 Kith and kin ii. 115 Klingenthal, Dance of Death in i. 7 Knaxkfuss, " Monograph on Velasquez " ii. 385 ftn. Knganei (statistics) i. 340 Kraft, Adam ii. 386 ftn. Krauss ii. 165 Kriiger ii. 258, 273, 340 ftn., 389 ftn.. 403 ftn. Kummer ii. 313 ftn. Kuning (kin-alderman) ii. 56 Laib vxd Schwarz, "Biblia Paupe- rum " ii. 267 Language, primitive ii. 97 Lapps, fertility of i. 85 Laws, Saxon ii. 214 Leges Presbyterorum Northumbriensum ii. 235 Lehner, "Die Marienverehrung " ii. 351 ftn. Leman, its derivation ii. 233 Lenaea, the ii. 158 Levirate, the ii. 236 Lex Canonica ii. 210 Lex Langobardorum ii. 210, 211 Lexis, "Theorie der Bevulkerungsstat- istik" i. 27 ftn., 29 Leyden, Lukas ran ii. 362 ftn. Liber and Libitina ii. 179 Libyans, mean and standard deviation of cephalic index i. 290, 367 ; of long bones i. 300 ; of skull capacity i. 339 Life, duration of i. 104 Lille, Walther von ii. 304 ftn. Liutprands Laws ii. 175 Liver, mean and standard deviation of i. 317, 318 Lochner, S., " Day of Judgment " ii. 330, 340 ftn. Longinus ii. 3S8, 389 Loserth, " Hus und Wiclif" ii. 283 ftn. Love, its derivation ii. 176 Lucifer, as portrayed in the passion- plays ii. 357, 358 Lug ii. 236 Lugnassad ii. 151 NAMES AND SUBJECTS 45; ilia ii. 158 Luther ii. 176, 203, 209 Luther, Hymns ii. 382 ftn. " Von den Jiiden " ii. oil ftn. " Von Kauffshandlung und Wucher " ii. 252 ftn. MAEGELAGU ii. 105 Mahal (folk assembly) ii. 56, 101. 147, 149 : see Index I. Maid ii. 139 Mailehn (May-fee) 24, 25, 408, 409 Mainz, council of ii. 211 Maitland, "The Dark Ages " ii. 27S ftn. Man, its derivation ii. 191 Mannhardt i. 118 ; " Der Baunikultus " ii. 321 ftn., 33S ftn. Manouvrier i. 285 ftn., 298, 306. 340, 352 Mi nihil, York ii. 297 ftn. Manuel, X. ii. 403 ftn. Mopes, Walter ii. 304 ftn. MWrchen ii. 199, 202, 208, 211, 224 Marienklage ii. 272, 273. 334 ftn. Mariolatry ii. 351 Mark ii. 106, 128. 137, 173 Markgenossen ii. 137, 431 Markgenossenschaft ii. 144, 145, 159, 164, 431 Marriage, kindred-group ii. 92, 104, 121, 140-143, 152, 154, 171, 180, 195 Marriage, patriarchal words for ii. 138 Marriage-rate, selective i. 84 Marriages, distribution of Italian i. 20, 21 Marriott, "Collection of English Mys- teries" ii. 281 ftn., 333, 367 Marshall i. 276, 2S6 ftn., 322 Martene, "De Antiquis Ecclesiae Riti- bus " ii. 283 ftn., 290 ftn., 291, 295 ftn., 297 ftn., 300, 310 ftn., 325 ftn., 372 ftn., 373 ftn., 37S ftn. Mart in -Leal;; A. i. 270 ftn. Man/ Magdalen, as portrayed in pas- sion-plays ii. 361-363 Mate ii. 1 40 Matralia ii. 201 Matriarchate ; see Moth Matriculation, its derivation ii. 203 Matrimony ii. 19S Matter i. 202, 380-3S3 ; ii. 199 Ma ,1-Daii ii. 19-24, 26, 36, 3S-41, 47 May-Dai/ dance ii. 133 : see Dances Meal, Group- ii. 135, 138, 143, 146. 156, 15S, 185 Mean, distinction between mode and i. 16 Meckel, Peter ii. 359 ftn. Media valism, a factor of modern culture ii. 248, 249, 398-400 Median i. 16 Meu r. //.. ■■ Sitten au 3 □ " ii. 275 ftn. Meister, Karl, "Das deutsche Kirchen- lied " ii. 27S ftn. Mi I Steplian, "Last Judgment" ii. 340 ftn., 3 11 tin.. 360 ftn. Meister Wilhelm, " Leben Jesu" ii. 263. 385 ftn. Memling, Hans, "Seven Joys of the Virgin " ii. 373 ftn. Michael Angela ii. 389 ftn. Midsummer Day ii. 2."/, 26, 36-41 Miichsack, "Oster- und Passionsspiele " ii. 283 ftn., 2'.'.". ftn., 297 ftn., 299, 310, 313 Mi/1, .1. ri„ "Subjection of Women " i. 232 Mill, birthplace of celebrated bastards ii. 150; primitive ii. 112. 123, 149, 190 ; connection with primitive sexual license ii. 150 Milton ii. 207, 208 Minnesinger ii. 147 Missal, Canterbury ii. 295 ftn. : Leofric ii. 295 ftn., 296, 378 ftn. ; Mainz ii. 295 ftn. ; Sarum ii. 296 ftn. ; York ii. 296 ftn. Mivart, si. George i. 379-3SS Mode (occurrence of maximum fre- quency) i. 11-16 Monaco, Le i. 45, 51, 53, 55 Mone, " Lateinische Hymnen des Mittel- alters" ii. 282 ftn., 288, 293, 294, 297, 339, 374 ftn. ; plan of stage ii. 320 Monogamy, its influence on words ii. 190 Monte Cad,, i. 43-62 Morality, genesis of ii. 93 Morris, " Legend of the Holy Rood " ii. 262, 3S5 ftn.. 393 ftn. Mortality, childhood i. 33; infancy i. 34: middle age i. 30 ; old age i. 29 ; youth i. 32 Mother ii. 199 Mother-age ii. 2, 103, 108, 240 ; civilisa- tion ii. 92, 108, 122; key to its characteristics ii. 190 Mother Earth ii. 193, 19S, 199, 201 : and her son ii. 103, 160 Mother-goddess ii. 106, 160, 169, 170, 171, 202 Mother-in-law, words for ii. 228 Mother-son deitii s ii. 199, 219 Mother-son t ii. 104. 105 Mother's brothers, words for ii. 215 Mother's sisters, words for ii. 201 Mini ii. 199 Miiller, Mae ii. 100 456 INDEX II Mummies, Egyptian, mean and standard deviation of cephalic index of i. 290, 366 ; of skull capacity i. 339 Miinzenberger, Confessional Books ii. 277 ftn. Mylitta (Babylonian mother-goddess of fertility) ii. 110 Mysteries — Chester ii. 346 ftn., 357 ftn., 372 ftn., 373 ftn., 374 ftn., 376 ftn., 386 ftn. Coventry ii. 258, 262, 276 ftn., 306 ftn., 328 ftn., 331 ftn., 333, 334, 337 ftn., 343, 346 ftn., 357 ftn., 358, 367, 372 ftn., 380 ftn., 383 ftn., 386 ftn., 397 Digby ii. 343, 344 ftn., 362 ftn., 386 ftn., 396 Tours ii. 302, 303, 329 ftn., 390 Townley ii. 258 ftn., 392 ftn., 393 NECK, mean and standard deviation of sensitivity at i. 315 Negroes, fertility of i. 85 ; mean ami standard deviation of cephalic index i. 290, 368 ; of skull capacity i. 340 N olitkic man,, mean and standard devia- tion of femur of i. 301 ; reconstruction of stature of i. 298 Nephew, words for ii. 218 Nerthus (goddess of fruition) ii. 106 New-born child, manner of announcing sex of ii. 220 .V' wsholme, "Vital Statistics " i. 38 Nibelungenlied ii. 167, 215 Nicodemus, Gosjiel of ii. 298, 385, 387 ftn., 392 ftn. Niece, words for ii. 219 s-. " Zur Geschichte der Hexenpro- cesse im Munster " ii. 338 ftn. Notker ii. 159 Nilrnberg, John <>/", "Vita Vagorum " ii. 307 Odysseus ii. 149, 157 Officium Stellae ii. 291-293 Osiris ii. 122 Ostendorfer (Virgin as local mother-god- dess) ii. 353 Ostiaks, fertility of i. 85 Otfrid ii. 180 Ovid ii. 225 Palate, length of, mean ami standard deviation of i. 328 Paley, "Natural Theology" i. 161 Punjab, outcaste tribes of, mean and standard deviation of cephalic index i. 290, 368 ; of skull capacity i. 341 Panmixia, rate of regression as measure of i. 63, 104, 114, 133-137 Panzer, " Baverische Gebrauche" ii. 60 ftn. Papuans, fertility of i. 85 Par/re, John ii. 387 ftn. Parisians, mean and standard deviation of cephalic index i. 290, 352, 353 ; of skull capacity i. 330-332 Parker, "Architectural Notes" ii. 264 ftn., 293 ftn. Passional, Das Alte ii. 312, 385, 387 ftn. Passion-Play — Characterisation in the ii. 334-363 Freiburg ii. 322 German, List of ii. 246-406 Greek ii. 272 Growth of the ii. 279-314 Heidelberg ii. 267 On the performers in the ii. 364-369 Plan of stage of, after Mone ii. 320 Spirit of the ii. 269-279 Stage, costumes, etc. ii. 315-334 Stage-accessories ii. 325-334 St. Gallen ii. 311 ftn. Summary of the ii. 397-406 The contents of the ii. 370-397 Unity of the ii. 256-269 World drama as the keynote to the ii. 257 Patriarchal-system, its origin ii. 188 Patriarchate ii. 5, 100, 102, 129, 135, 223 Patricians ii. 95 Peacock (statistics) i. 316-321 Pearson, A"., "Die Fronica" ii. 330 ftn., 386 ftn. ; " Grammar of Science " i. 152 ftn. 380-387; "Memoir on Re- gression, Heredity and Panmixia" i. 66, 81, 259 ftn. Peile, W. H., measurement of White- chapel skulls i. 351 Persephone ii. 115, 175 Perv/vians, Ancient, mean and standard deviation of cephalic index i. 290, 367; of skull capacity i. 339, 340 Pi / vonto (Italian equivalent of Askelad) ii. 51 ftn. Pjister, "Rechtstreit des Menschen mit dem Tode " ii. 342 ftn. Piderit, K. IF., " Weihnachtspiel " ii. 275 ftn., 2S9 ftn., 340 ftn., 357 ftn., 372 ftn. Pilate ii. 150 ; as portrayed in the pas- sion-plays ii. 360, 361 Pipin, charter of ii. 212 NAMES AND SUBJECTS 457 arm s ii. 123, 1 II Playing of the Stag ii. 19 Plays — Als/elder ii. 295 l'tu., 323, 324 ftn., 335 ftn., 343, 362, 368, 374 ftn., 376 ftn. Brixlegg ii. 262, 263, 379 ftn., 380 ftn., 3S9 ftn. Chester ii. 265 ftn., 275, 327 ftn., 331 ftn., 341 ftn., 346 ftn. Be Decern Virginibus ii. 274, 317, 339 ftn., 343, 370 ftn. Donaueschingen ii. 331, 362, 374 ftn. Egerer ii. 257, 264, 267, 273, 295 ftn., 323 ftn., 326, 346, 355, 358, 371, 373 ftn., 374 ftn. English in churches ii. 413-420 Erlauer ii. 362 Frankfurter ii. 324, 376 ftn. la Cunabilis Christi ii. 275 Kunzelsauer ii. 076 ftn. List of German mediaeval religion- ii. 254, 255 /. -.• rner ii. 371 Oberufer ii. 261, 327 ftn. York ii. 258 Plays, Magi — Freising ii. 291 Orleans ii. 291 Ploss, " Das Weil) " i. 85 Plough, symbol of fertility ii. 124, 169, 424 Politics and science i. 140-172 Polynesians, fertility of i. 85 ; mean and standard deviation of cephalic index 369 ; of skull capacity i. 342, 344 Porter, "Growth of St. Louis Children" i. 295, 296, 299, 306, 309, 310, 314, 358, 359 Prefigurations ii. 265-269 Priestesses of mother -goddess ii. 106, 171 Priests (men dressed as women) ii. 106 Prije ii. 168 Fnm:i :: iM >i:co.i,.j,t 11. 190 Primitive conduct, motives of ii. 99, 192, 193, 205, 208, 238 Prttis ii. 168 Prostitutes ii. 105 Prostitution, organised ii. 109 Purzpirn ii. 3S1 Pull, strength of, mean and standard deviation of i. 311, 313 Qveax'u. 114 Queen ii. 113. 114 Queen bee ii. 197 Quental, " Kolner Bibel " ii. 341 ftn. Quetelet, " Anthropi >m< 1 1 ;<: ftn., 307, 312 Quick ii. 194 ■j-: RADIUS, mean and standard deviati i. 300, 302, 303 ■ i. 17 . «/., "La taille pivlii 301 Ramersdorf ii. 386 ftn. Ranke, "Anthropologic des Bavern " i. 323-327, 333, 334. 35 l . table of sexual i. 374 ; tal variation i. 374 Rawlings, J. D. (statistics) i. 309 Reaction i. 173-225 Hon i. 63 Reichersberg, Gerloh eon ii. 286 Real (statistics) i. 316, 321 Relationship, patriarchal words for ii. 142 ; special words for ii. 191 ions-in-law, words for ii. 223 d the Fox ii. 152, 211 Rhys, Professor, Hibbert Led ftn., 142, 151. 236 Right ii. 426 Rislei/ (statistics) i. 2S9 Ritter-dance ii. 342, 343 Ritual, Church Scenic ii. 289-314 : Karbonne ii. 310; Rouen, ii. 291, 292 Robertson Smith, " Religion of th. ites" i. 118 ; "Kinship and Mai in Early Arabia" ii. 105 ftn. Rochhoh ii. 150 Rock, " Church of our Fathers " ii. 405 ftn. Rollet, "De la mensuration des os des membres " i. 301 Romanes, G. i. 67 ftn. A' ans, Ancient, mean and standard deviation of cephalic index i. 290. 345 Rocjuette, Otto, " Geschichte der deutschen Dichtung" ii. 318 ftn. Rorbach ii. 329 II <■ /• '. er, " Dreikonigsspiel " ii. 374 ftn., 383 ftn. Roulette, Mont,' Carlo i. 42-62 Row-Graves, diagram of cephalic index i. 20 Rubin (statisti 3) i. 69, 85, 92, 97 ! 3 100 Sacrifices made by women ii. 102. 130 Saint John's Eve ii. 105 Saints, female ii. 122 ies ii. 109 458 INDEX II Salisbury Hours ii. 266 ftn. Salisbury, Lord i. 144-187, 218, 383- 386 Samoiedes, fertility of i. So Sasse i. 335, 364 Satan, as portrayed in the passion-plays ii. 357, 358 Scandinavians, Ancient, mean and stand- ard deviation of cephalic index i. 290 Schade ii. 206, 226 Schedel, " Niirnberg Chronicle " ii. 259, 342 Scheifelin ii. 387 ftn. 393 Scherer, "Denkmaler dentscher Poesie und Prosa" ii. 281 ftn., 326 ftn. Schiltberger, " Reisebuck " ii. 105 ftn. Schmeller ii. 100, 146, 192, 208, 322 ftn., 381 ftn. "Carmina Burana" ii. 305 ftn. Schmid, R. ii. 209 ftn. Schmidt, J. ii. 182 Schmidt, Oscar i. 108, 109 Scholars, strolling ii. 304-308 SchOnemann, " Der Siindenfall " ii. 384 ftn., 385 ftn. Schongauer, ''Adoration of the Magi" ii. 326 ftn., 340 ftn. Schbnsperger, "Via Felieitatis " ii. 387 ftn., 393 ftn. Schrathenthal ii. 387 ftn. SchrSer, " Deiitsche Weihnachtspiele " ii. 261 Seebrucker, " Hirtenspiel " ii. 274 Selection, natural i. 63, 94 periodic i. 72, 159 ftn. reproductive i. 63-102 ; definition i. 65, 66 secular i. 159 ftn. Sex-calls and food -calls of animals ii. 239 Sex-festivals ii. 104, 105, 122, 130, 132, 136, 158, 171; meeting-place for ii. 105, 125 Sex-function, meaning of words of rela- tionship to be sought in ii. 97 Sex - relation between kindred ii. 103, 145 Sexual freedom of women ii. 203 Sexual group, as social unit ii. 182 Sexual relation of brother-sister ii. 102 Shakespeare ii. 200, 207 Ship of Fools ii. 270 Sif ii. 160, 161 Sight, keenness of, mean and standard deviation of i. 311 Simmons, T. C. i. 58 Simrock ii. 151, 356 ftn., 383 ftn. " Mvthologie " ii. 321 ftn. " Volksbiicker " ii. 326 ftn., 382 ftn., 385 ftn. Sims i. 320, 321 Sister ii. 122 Sister-in-laiv ii. 231 Skeat ii. 192, 196, 214, 223 Skewness, measured by difference between mean and mode i. 16, 18 Skulls, Bavarian, mean and standard de- viation of cephalic index of i. 278, 279 : see also under each race brachy cephalic i. 288 dolichocephalic i. 2S8 Smith, "Dictionary of the Bible" ii. 345 Smith, Toulmin, ''English Guilds" ii. 365 ftn., 405 ftn. Socialism, and Natural Selection i. 103- 109 Son ii. 221 Son-in-law, words for ii. 223 exogamous and endogamous terms ii. 228 Souls, list of ii. 341 Span, mean and standard deviation of i. 299, 311 Silencer, H. i. Ill, 112, 113, 116, 121, 122, 134, 187, 193 Spinster ii. 130 Sjioon, bridal, a fossil ii. 148 Spousals ii. 138 Spring or Brunnen, as meeting-place ii. 106 Spurccdia, the ii. 159, ftn. Squeeze, strength of, mean and standard deviation of i. 311, 313, 314 Star in the East, as stage accessory ii. 325-327 Statistics i. 23, 27, 44 Stature, mean and standard deviation of i. 285 ftn., 294-299, 311, 313 Stellafer or Sterntrager ii. 325 Stella Maris (Virgin Mary) ii. 326 Stephens, G. ii. 389 ftn., 393 ftn. Stieda, "Archiv fur Anthropologic " i. 349. Stoeger ii. 383 ftn. Stokes, G. G. i. 214 Stokes, Whitley ii. 227, 230 Stoss, Veil ii. 386 ftn. Strabo ii. 13 Strauss, "Leben Jesu " ii. 345 ftn. Stubbs, " Anatomie " ii. 396 ftn. Succession, right of, through marrying a king's daughter ii. 107 : see Fairy Tales Swedes, Ancient, mean and standard de- viation of cephalic index i. 290 ; of skull capacity i. 365. Swiss, Ancient, mean and standard de- viation of cephalic index i. 290 ; of skull capacity i. 336, 360, 361 NAMES AND SUBJECTS 459 T Aim she ii. 147 TaiN tin ii. 175 Tacitus ii. 132, 137, 143 Tarentzky ii. 368 Tatian ii. 161, 188 Tengler, " Leyenspiegel " ii. 317 ftn. Tennyson i. 258 ftn. TertvMan ii. 213, 214 Thane, G. 1). i. 270 ftn., 330 Thesmophoria, the ii. 150, 170 Thomas run Kempen, "lmitatio ( 'liristi " ii. 277 Thompson, H. i. 339, 367 Thompson, li. E. i. 206 ftn. Thr&dhr ii. 180 Th ur no in, "Ancient British and Gaulish Skulls " i. 337, 362, 365 Tibia, mean and standard deviation of i. 300-303 Tilth, as symbol of sexual union ii. 199, 424 Tisa (Zisa) ii. 131 Tribal-Father ii. 106, 163 Tribal-Mother ii. 107, 1S8, 199 Trimberg, Hugo von ii. 211 Trqparion ii. 201 Trude ii. 34, 63 Truth "in/ Troth, their origin ii. 182 Twelfth Night ii. 28, 36 Uhland ii. 151 Ulfdasn. 132, 149, 182, 185 Uncle, words for ii. 208, 215 United States Recruits, variation in stature i. 276, 277 Uote (tribal-mother of the Burgundians) ii. 107 ftn., 131 Uranus ii. 108 Variability, of the sexes i. 293-377 scientific measure of i. 272-286 Variation, coefficient of i. 283 in man and woman i. 256-377 Table of ratio of i. 374 Veghe, Johan ii. 277 ftn. Velasquez ii. 386 ftn. Venus ii. 107. 114, 119 Verena ii. 106, 150 Verlobung, mother-age fossil ii. 177 Viennese, mean and standard deviation of cephalic index i. 357 ; of skull capacity i. 333 Virchow, "Die Altnordischen Schadel zu Kopenhagen " i. 365 Virginity,a, patriarchal virtue ii. 122, 130 Virgin goddess ii. 122, 131 Virgin Mary ii. 33, 36, 37, 42, 182 ; as local mother-goddess ii. 353 ; as portrayed in the passion - plays ii. 350-357 Virgin, the ii. 115 Visitatio Sepulchri ii. 299-301 Vola (or Sibyl) ii. 13 WACKERNAQEL ii. 132, 192, 205, 2S1, 342 it ii. Waischenfeld i. 325, 327, 354-356 Walber ii. 44 Wallace, A. R. i. 106 Walpurga ii. 10, 42, 43, 44, 45, 106. 150, 169 Walpurgisnacht ii. 21, 21, 27, 29-32, 39-44 Walpurgistag ii. 137, 158, 181 Walther von der Vogeltoeide ii. 167 Warren, A., "Leofric Missal" ii. 295 ftn., 342 ftn., 378 ftn. Warren, E. i. 299 Webb, Sidney, "Fabian Essays" i. 246 Weber ii. 226 Wedding ii. 138 Wedding-dance ii. 133 : see Dance Wedding torches ii. 17, 82 Wcihrriliniji te ii. 25 Weibermonat ii. 137, 158 Weigand ii. 1, 30 Weight, body, sexual ratio of i. 285 ftn. ; mean and standard deviation of i. 305-309, 313 brain, sexual ratio of i. 285 ftn. ; mean and standard deviation of i. 319-323 : see Heart, Liver, etc. Weikbrunnen, well of goddess of ferti- lity ii. 37 Weinhold ii. 213; "Infancy Play" ii. 132, 275, 287 Weisbach i. 276, 322, 333, 357 Weismann i. 104, 114, 134-137, 165, 386 Weisthvmer ii. 56, 94, 147, 16S, 431 Welcher, "Wachsthum und Bau des menschlichen Schadels " i. 333, 334 Weldon, W. F. R. i. 11, 19, 104, 134, 160 Wernher, " Driu liet von der Maget " ii. 372 ftn. Westergaard i. 18, 69, 85, 92, 97, 98, 100 Widow, derivation of ii. 101, 237 Wife, derivation of ii. 101, 192 Wild, Sebastian ii. 365 Wildefrauen ii. 38, 39 Winileod, the ii. 17, 49, 133, 136, 158 Witch ii. 11 Witch of Brut el shack ii. 12 Witch, Whiten. 11, 62 Witch, woman as : see Woman Witchcraft, evidences of mother-right in customs of ii. 1-48 Witches' Sabbath, relic of sex-festival ii. 83 : see Hexenmahi 460 INDEX II Wolff, " Zeitschrift " ii. 381 ftn. Wolgemut, " Schatzbehalter " ii. 260. 261, 263, 265, 323 ftn., 320 ftn., 331 ftn., 379 ftn., 380 ftn., 384 ftn., 387 ftn., 391, 392 ftn., 393 ftn., 397 ftn. Woltmann ii. 342 ftn., 346 ftn., 405 ftn. Woman and Labour i. 226-255 Woman as jtriestess ii. 188 as witch ii. 1-50 Womb, the, as name for kin ii. 188, 193 Wonsam, Anton ii. 386 Worms, Council of ii. 212 Wright, " Early Mysteries " ii..291 ftn. WydifiL 387 ftn..' 393 ffetf. Yuletide ii. 36 Zaixer, " Schachzabelbuch : Z zerbrunnen ii. 38 Zeus ii. 123, 170, 222 Zingerle u. Egger ii. 147 Zisa : see Tisa Zupan ii. 56. 163, 205 ii. 383 ftn. Ey wie vro icb. was, do ich schreib Deo gratias. Old Scribe. Printed by R. & R. Clark, Limited, Edinburgh . Si M I -I BE* ""I nun* * OOP 205 365 University of California SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 405 Hilgard Avenue, Los Angeles, CA 90024-1388 Return this material to the library from which it was borrowed. QL0CT14 1996 JUN 1 9 *96 RECCL 12