A Monk there was, a fayre for the maistrie,
An outrider that loved venerie;
A manly man, to be an Abbot able,
Full many a daintie horse had he in stable:
And whan he rode, men might his bridle hear
Gingeling in a whistling wind as clear,
And eke as loud, as doth the chapell bell,
There as this lord was keeper of the cell.
Chaucer.
Notwithstanding the occasional exhortation and chiding of his
companion, the noise of the horsemen's feet continuing to
approach, Wamba could not be prevented from lingering
occasionally on the road, upon every pretence which occurred; now
catching from the hazel a cluster of half-ripe nuts, and now
turning his head to leer after a cottage maiden who crossed their
path. The horsemen, therefore, soon overtook them on the road.
Their numbers amounted to ten men, of whom the two who rode
foremost seemed to be persons of considerable importance, and the
others their attendants. It was not difficult to ascertain the
condition and character of one of these personages. He was
obviously an ecclesiastic of high rank; his dress was that of a
Cistercian Monk, but composed of materials much finer than those
which the rule of that order admitted. His mantle and hood were
of the best Flanders cloth, and fell in ample, and not ungraceful
folds, around a handsome, though somewhat corpulent person. His
countenance bore as little the marks of self-denial, as his habit
indicated contempt of worldly splendour. His features might have
been called good, had there not lurked under the pent-house of
his eye, that sly epicurean twinkle which indicates the cautious
voluptuary. In other respects, his profession and situation had
taught him a ready command over his countenance, which he could
contract at pleasure into solemnity, although its natural
expression was that of good-humoured social indulgence. In
defiance of conventual rules, and the edicts of popes and
councils, the sleeves of this dignitary were lined and turned up
with rich furs, his mantle secured at the throat with a golden
clasp, and the whole dress proper to his order as much refined
upon and ornamented, as that of a quaker beauty of the present
day, who, while she retains the garb and costume of her sect
continues to give to its simplicity, by the choice of materials
and the mode of disposing them, a certain air of coquettish
attraction, savouring but too much of the vanities of the world.
This worthy churchman rode upon a well-fed ambling mule, whose
furniture was highly decorated, and whose bridle, according to
the fashion of the day, was ornamented with silver bells. In his
seat he had nothing of the awkwardness of the convent, but
displayed the easy and habitual grace of a well-trained horseman.
Indeed, it seemed that so humble a conveyance as a mule, in
however good case, and however well broken to a pleasant and
accommodating amble, was only used by the gallant monk for
travelling on the road. A lay brother, one of those who followed
in the train, had, for his use on other occasions, one of the
most handsome Spanish jennets ever bred at Andalusia, which
merchants used at that time to import, with great trouble and
risk, for the use of persons of wealth and distinction. The
saddle and housings of this superb palfrey were covered by a long
foot-cloth, which reached nearly to the ground, and on which were
richly embroidered, mitres, crosses, and other ecclesiastical
emblems. Another lay brother led a sumpter mule, loaded probably
with his superior's baggage; and two monks of his own order, of
inferior station, rode together in the rear, laughing and
conversing with each other, without taking much notice of the
other members of the cavalcade.
The companion of the church dignitary was a man past forty, thin,
strong, tall, and muscular; an athletic figure, which long
fatigue and constant exercise seemed to have left none of the
softer part of the human form, having reduced the whole to brawn,
bones, and sinews, which had sustained a thousand toils, and were
ready to dare a thousand more. His head was covered with a
scarlet cap, faced with fur---of that kind which the French call
"mortier", from its resemblance to the shape of an inverted
mortar. His countenance was therefore fully displayed, and its
expression was calculated to impress a degree of awe, if not of
fear, upon strangers. High features, naturally strong and
powerfully expressive, had been burnt almost into Negro blackness
by constant exposure to the tropical sun, and might, in their
ordinary state, be said to slumber after the storm of passion had
passed away; but the projection of the veins of the forehead, the
readiness with which the upper lip and its thick black moustaches
quivered upon the slightest emotion, plainly intimated that the
tempest might be again and easily awakened. His keen, piercing,
dark eyes, told in every glance a history of difficulties
subdued, and dangers dared, and seemed to challenge opposition to
his wishes, for the pleasure of sweeping it from his road by a
determined exertion of courage and of will; a deep scar on his
brow gave additional sternness to his countenance, and a sinister
expression to one of his eyes, which had been slightly injured on
the same occasion, and of which the vision, though perfect, was
in a slight and partial degree distorted.
The upper dress of this personage resembled that of his companion
in shape, being a long monastic mantle; but the colour, being
scarlet, showed that he did not belong to any of the four regular
orders of monks. On the right shoulder of the mantle there was
cut, in white cloth, a cross of a peculiar form. This upper robe
concealed what at first view seemed rather inconsistent with its
form, a shirt, namely, of linked mail, with sleeves and gloves of
the same, curiously plaited and interwoven, as flexible to the
body as those which are now wrought in the stocking-loom, out of
less obdurate materials. The fore-part of his thighs, where the
folds of his mantle permitted them to be seen, were also covered
with linked mail; the knees and feet were defended by splints, or
thin plates of steel, ingeniously jointed upon each other; and
mail hose, reaching from the ankle to the knee, effectually
protected the legs, and completed the rider's defensive armour.
In his girdle he wore a long and double-edged dagger, which was
the only offensive weapon about his person.
He rode, not a mule, like his companion, but a strong hackney for
the road, to save his gallant war-horse, which a squire led
behind, fully accoutred for battle, with a chamfron or plaited
head-piece upon his head, having a short spike projecting from
the front. On one side of the saddle hung a short battle-axe,
richly inlaid with Damascene carving; on the other the rider's
plumed head-piece and hood of mail, with a long two-handed sword,
used by the chivalry of the period. A second squire held aloft
his master's lance, from the extremity of which fluttered a small
banderole, or streamer, bearing a cross of the same form with
that embroidered upon his cloak. He also carried his small
triangular shield, broad enough at the top to protect the breast,
and from thence diminishing to a point. It was covered with a
scarlet cloth, which prevented the device from being seen.
These two squires were followed by two attendants, whose dark
visages, white turbans, and the Oriental form of their garments,
showed them to be natives of some distant Eastern country.*
* Note B. Negro Slaves.
The whole appearance of this warrior and his retinue was wild and
outlandish; the dress of his squires was gorgeous, and his
Eastern attendants wore silver collars round their throats, and
bracelets of the same metal upon their swarthy arms and legs, of
which the former were naked from the elbow, and the latter from
mid-leg to ankle. Silk and embroidery distinguished their
dresses, and marked the wealth and importance of their master;
forming, at the same time, a striking contrast with the martial
simplicity of his own attire. They were armed with crooked
sabres, having the hilt and baldric inlaid with gold, and matched
with Turkish daggers of yet more costly workmanship. Each of
them bore at his saddle-bow a bundle of darts or javelins, about
four feet in length, having sharp steel heads, a weapon much in
use among the Saracens, and of which the memory is yet preserved
in the martial exercise called "El Jerrid", still practised in
the Eastern countries.
The steeds of these attendants were in appearance as foreign as
their riders. They were of Saracen origin, and consequently of
Arabian descent; and their fine slender limbs, small fetlocks,
thin manes, and easy springy motion, formed a marked contrast
with the large-jointed, heavy horses, of which the race was
cultivated in Flanders and in Normandy, for mounting the
men-at-arms of the period in all the panoply of plate and mail;
and which, placed by the side of those Eastern coursers, might
have passed for a personification of substance and of shadow.
The singular appearance of this cavalcade not only attracted the
curiosity of Wamba, but excited even that of his less volatile
companion. The monk he instantly knew to be the Prior of Jorvaulx
Abbey, well known for many miles around as a lover of the chase,
of the banquet, and, if fame did him not wrong, of other worldly
pleasures still more inconsistent with his monastic vows.
Yet so loose were the ideas of the times respecting the conduct
of the clergy, whether secular or regular, that the Prior Aymer
maintained a fair character in the neighbourhood of his abbey.
His free and jovial temper, and the readiness with which he
granted absolution from all ordinary delinquencies, rendered him
a favourite among the nobility and principal gentry, to several
of whom he was allied by birth, being of a distinguished Norman
family. The ladies, in particular, were not disposed to scan too
nicely the morals of a man who was a professed admirer of their
sex, and who possessed many means of dispelling the ennui which
was too apt to intrude upon the halls and bowers of an ancient
feudal castle. The Prior mingled in the sports of the field with
more than due eagerness, and was allowed to possess the
best-trained hawks, and the fleetest greyhounds in the North
Riding; circumstances which strongly recommended him to the
youthful gentry. With the old, he had another part to play,
which, when needful, he could sustain with great decorum. His
knowledge of books, however superficial, was sufficient to
impress upon their ignorance respect for his supposed learning;
and the gravity of his deportment and language, with the high
tone which he exerted in setting forth the authority of the
church and of the priesthood, impressed them no less with an
opinion of his sanctity. Even the common people, the severest
critics of the conduct of their betters, had commiseration with
the follies of Prior Aymer. He was generous; and charity, as it
is well known, covereth a multitude of sins, in another sense
than that in which it is said to do so in Scripture. The
revenues of the monastery, of which a large part was at his
disposal, while they gave him the means of supplying his own very
considerable expenses, afforded also those largesses which he
bestowed among the peasantry, and with which he frequently
relieved the distresses of the oppressed. If Prior Aymer rode
hard in the chase, or remained long at the banquet,---if Prior
Aymer was seen, at the early peep of dawn, to enter the postern
of the abbey, as he glided home from some rendezvous which had
occupied the hours of darkness, men only shrugged up their
shoulders, and reconciled themselves to his irregularities, by
recollecting that the same were practised by many of his brethren
who had no redeeming qualities whatsoever to atone for them.
Prior Aymer, therefore, and his character, were well known to our
Saxon serfs, who made their rude obeisance, and received his
"benedicite, mes filz," in return.
But the singular appearance of his companion and his attendants,
arrested their attention and excited their wonder, and they could
scarcely attend to the Prior of Jorvaulx' question, when he
demanded if they knew of any place of harbourage in the vicinity;
so much were they surprised at the half monastic, half military
appearance of the swarthy stranger, and at the uncouth dress and
arms of his Eastern attendants. It is probable, too, that the
language in which the benediction was conferred, and the
information asked, sounded ungracious, though not probably
unintelligible, in the ears of the Saxon peasants.
"I asked you, my children," said the Prior, raising his voice,
and using the lingua Franca, or mixed language, in which the
Norman and Saxon races conversed with each other, "if there be in
this neighbourhood any good man, who, for the love of God, and
devotion to Mother Church, will give two of her humblest
servants, with their train, a night's hospitality and
refreshment?"
This he spoke with a tone of conscious importance, which formed a
strong contrast to the modest terms which he thought it proper to
employ.
"Two of the humblest servants of Mother Church!" repeated Wamba
to himself,---but, fool as he was, taking care not to make his
observation audible; "I should like to see her seneschals, her
chief butlers, and other principal domestics!"
After this internal commentary on the Prior's speech, he raised
his eyes, and replied to the question which had been put.
"If the reverend fathers," he said, "loved good cheer and soft
lodging, few miles of riding would carry them to the Priory of
Brinxworth, where their quality could not but secure them the
most honourable reception; or if they preferred spending a
penitential evening, they might turn down yonder wild glade,
which would bring them to the hermitage of Copmanhurst, where a
pious anchoret would make them sharers for the night of the
shelter of his roof and the benefit of his prayers."
The Prior shook his head at both proposals.
"Mine honest friend," said he, "if the jangling of thy bells had
not dizzied thine understanding, thou mightst know "Clericus
clericum non decimat"; that is to say, we churchmen do not
exhaust each other's hospitality, but rather require that of the
laity, giving them thus an opportunity to serve God in honouring
and relieving his appointed servants."
"It is true," replied Wamba, "that I, being but an ass, am,
nevertheless, honoured to hear the bells as well as your
reverence's mule; notwithstanding, I did conceive that the
charity of Mother Church and her servants might be said, with
other charity, to begin at home."
"A truce to thine insolence, fellow," said the armed rider,
breaking in on his prattle with a high and stern voice, "and tell
us, if thou canst, the road to---How call'd you your Franklin,
Prior Aymer?"
"Cedric," answered the Prior; "Cedric the Saxon.---Tell me, good
fellow, are we near his dwelling, and can you show us the road?"
"The road will be uneasy to find," answered Gurth, who broke
silence for the first time, "and the family of Cedric retire
early to rest."
"Tush, tell not me, fellow," said the military rider; "'tis easy
for them to arise and supply the wants of travellers such as we
are, who will not stoop to beg the hospitality which we have a
right to command."
"I know not," said Gurth, sullenly, "if I should show the way to
my master's house, to those who demand as a right, the shelter
which most are fain to ask as a favour."
"Do you dispute with me, slave!" said the soldier; and, setting
spurs to his horse, he caused him make a demivolte across the
path, raising at the same time the riding rod which he held in
his hand, with a purpose of chastising what he considered as the
insolence of the peasant.
Gurth darted at him a savage and revengeful scowl, and with a
fierce, yet hesitating motion, laid his hand on the haft of his
knife; but the interference of Prior Aymer, who pushed his mule
betwixt his companion and the swineherd, prevented the meditated
violence.
"Nay, by St Mary, brother Brian, you must not think you are now
in Palestine, predominating over heathen Turks and infidel
Saracens; we islanders love not blows, save those of holy Church,
who chasteneth whom she loveth.---Tell me, good fellow," said he
to Wamba, and seconded his speech by a small piece of silver
coin, "the way to Cedric the Saxon's; you cannot be ignorant of
it, and it is your duty to direct the wanderer even when his
character is less sanctified than ours."
"In truth, venerable father," answered the Jester, "the Saracen
head of your right reverend companion has frightened out of mine
the way home---I am not sure I shall get there to-night myself."
"Tush," said the Abbot, "thou canst tell us if thou wilt. This
reverend brother has been all his life engaged in fighting among
the Saracens for the recovery of the Holy Sepulchre; he is of the
order of Knights Templars, whom you may have heard of; he is half
a monk, half a soldier."
"If he is but half a monk," said the Jester, "he should not be
wholly unreasonable with those whom he meets upon the road, even
if they should be in no hurry to answer questions that no way
concern them."
"I forgive thy wit," replied the Abbot, "on condition thou wilt
show me the way to Cedric's mansion."
"Well, then," answered Wamba, "your reverences must hold on this
path till you come to a sunken cross, of which scarce a cubit's
length remains above ground; then take the path to the left, for
there are four which meet at Sunken Cross, and I trust your
reverences will obtain shelter before the storm comes on."
The Abbot thanked his sage adviser; and the cavalcade, setting
spurs to their horses, rode on as men do who wish to reach their
inn before the bursting of a night-storm. As their horses' hoofs
died away, Gurth said to his companion, "If they follow thy wise
direction, the reverend fathers will hardly reach Rotherwood this
night."
"No," said the Jester, grinning, "but they may reach Sheffield if
they have good luck, and that is as fit a place for them. I am
not so bad a woodsman as to show the dog where the deer lies, if
I have no mind he should chase him."
"Thou art right," said Gurth; "it were ill that Aymer saw the
Lady Rowena; and it were worse, it may be, for Cedric to quarrel,
as is most likely he would, with this military monk. But, like
good servants let us hear and see, and say nothing."
We return to the riders, who had soon left the bondsmen far
behind them, and who maintained the following conversation in the
Norman-French language, usually employed by the superior classes,
with the exception of the few who were still inclined to boast
their Saxon descent.
"What mean these fellows by their capricious insolence?" said the
Templar to the Benedictine, "and why did you prevent me from
chastising it?"
"Marry, brother Brian," replied the Prior, "touching the one of
them, it were hard for me to render a reason for a fool speaking
according to his folly; and the other churl is of that savage,
fierce, intractable race, some of whom, as I have often told you,
are still to be found among the descendants of the conquered
Saxons, and whose supreme pleasure it is to testify, by all means
in their power, their aversion to their conquerors."
"I would soon have beat him into courtesy," observed Brian; "I am
accustomed to deal with such spirits: Our Turkish captives are as
fierce and intractable as Odin himself could have been; yet two
months in my household, under the management of my master of the
slaves, has made them humble, submissive, serviceable, and
observant of your will. Marry, sir, you must be aware of the
poison and the dagger; for they use either with free will when
you give them the slightest opportunity."
"Ay, but," answered Prior Aymer, "every land has its own manners
and fashions; and, besides that beating this fellow could procure
us no information respecting the road to Cedric's house, it would
have been sure to have established a quarrel betwixt you and him
had we found our way thither. Remember what I told you: this
wealthy franklin is proud, fierce, jealous, and irritable, a
withstander of the nobility, and even of his neighbors, Reginald
Front-de-Boeuf and Philip Malvoisin, who are no babies to strive
with. He stands up sternly for the privileges of his race, and
is so proud of his uninterrupted descend from Hereward, a
renowned champion of the Heptarchy, that he is universally called
Cedric the Saxon; and makes a boast of his belonging to a people
from whom many others endeaver to hide their descent, lest they
should encounter a share of the 'vae victis,' or severities
imposed upon the vanquished."
"Prior Aymer," said the Templar, "you are a man of gallantry,
learned in the study of beauty, and as expert as a troubadour in
all matters concerning the 'arrets' of love; but I shall expect
much beauty in this celebrated Rowena to counterbalance the
self-denial and forbearance which I must exert if I am to court
the favor of such a seditious churl as you have described her
father Cedric."
"Cedric is not her father," replied the Prior, "and is but of
remote relation: she is descended from higher blood than even he
pretends to, and is but distantly connected with him by birth.
Her guardian, however, he is, self-constituted as I believe; but
his ward is as dear to him as if she were his own child. Of her
beauty you shall soon be judge; and if the purity of her
complexion, and the majestic, yet soft expression of a mild blue
eye, do not chase from your memory the black-tressed girls of
Palestine, ay, or the houris of old Mahound's paradise, I am an
infidel, and no true son of the church."
"Should your boasted beauty," said the Templar, "be weighed in
the balance and found wanting, you know our wager?"
"My gold collar," answered the Prior, "against ten butts of Chian
wine;---they are mine as securely as if they were already in the
convent vaults, under the key of old Dennis the cellarer."
"And I am myself to be judge," said the Templar, "and am only to
be convicted on my own admission, that I have seen no maiden so
beautiful since Pentecost was a twelvemonth. Ran it not so?
---Prior, your collar is in danger; I will wear it over my gorget
in the lists of Ashby-de-la-Zouche."
"Win it fairly," said the Prior, "and wear it as ye will; I will
trust your giving true response, on your word as a knight and as
a churchman. Yet, brother, take my advice, and file your tongue
to a little more courtesy than your habits of predominating over
infidel captives and Eastern bondsmen have accustomed you.
Cedric the Saxon, if offended,---and he is noway slack in taking
offence,---is a man who, without respect to your knighthood, my
high office, or the sanctity of either, would clear his house of
us, and send us to lodge with the larks, though the hour were
midnight. And be careful how you look on Rowena, whom he
cherishes with the most jealous care; an he take the least alarm
in that quarter we are but lost men. It is said he banished his
only son from his family for lifting his eyes in the way of
affection towards this beauty, who may be worshipped, it seems,
at a distance, but is not to be approached with other thoughts
than such as we bring to the shrine of the Blessed Virgin."
"Well, you have said enough," answered the Templar; "I will for a
night put on the needful restraint, and deport me as meekly as a
maiden; but as for the fear of his expelling us by violence,
myself and squires, with Hamet and Abdalla, will warrant you
against that disgrace. Doubt not that we shall be strong enough
to make good our quarters."
"We must not let it come so far," answered the Prior; "but here
is the clown's sunken cross, and the night is so dark that we can
hardly see which of the roads we are to follow. He bid us turn,
I think to the left."
"To the right," said Brian, "to the best of my remembrance."
"To the left, certainly, the left; I remember his pointing with
his wooden sword."
"Ay, but he held his sword in his left hand, and so pointed
across his body with it," said the Templar.
Each maintained his opinion with sufficient obstinacy, as is
usual in all such cases; the attendants were appealed to, but
they had not been near enough to hear Wamba's directions. At
length Brian remarked, what had at first escaped him in the
twilight; "Here is some one either asleep, or lying dead at the
foot of this cross---Hugo, stir him with the butt-end of thy
lance."
This was no sooner done than the figure arose, exclaiming in good
French, "Whosoever thou art, it is discourteous in you to disturb
my thoughts."
"We did but wish to ask you," said the Prior, "the road to
Rotherwood, the abode of Cedric the Saxon."
"I myself am bound thither," replied the stranger; "and if I had
a horse, I would be your guide, for the way is somewhat
intricate, though perfectly well known to me."
"Thou shalt have both thanks and reward, my friend," said the
Prior, "if thou wilt bring us to Cedric's in safety."
And he caused one of his attendants to mount his own led horse,
and give that upon which he had hitherto ridden to the stranger,
who was to serve for a guide.
Their conductor pursued an opposite road from that which Wamba
had recommended, for the purpose of misleading them. The path
soon led deeper into the woodland, and crossed more than one
brook, the approach to which was rendered perilous by the marshes
through which it flowed; but the stranger seemed to know, as if
by instinct, the soundest ground and the safest points of
passage; and by dint of caution and attention, brought the party
safely into a wilder avenue than any they had yet seen; and,
pointing to a large low irregular building at the upper
extremity, he said to the Prior, "Yonder is Rotherwood, the
dwelling of Cedric the Saxon."
This was a joyful intimation to Aymer, whose nerves were none of
the strongest, and who had suffered such agitation and alarm in
the course of passing through the dangerous bogs, that he had not
yet had the curiosity to ask his guide a single question.
Finding himself now at his ease and near shelter, his curiosity
began to awake, and he demanded of the guide who and what he was.
"A Palmer, just returned from the Holy Land," was the answer.
"You had better have tarried there to fight for the recovery of
the Holy Sepulchre," said the Templar.
"True, Reverend Sir Knight," answered the Palmer, to whom the
appearance of the Templar seemed perfectly familiar; "but when
those who are under oath to recover the holy city, are found
travelling at such a distance from the scene of their duties, can
you wonder that a peaceful peasant like me should decline the
task which they have abandoned?"
The Templar would have made an angry reply, but was interrupted
by the Prior, who again expressed his astonishment, that their
guide, after such long absence, should be so perfectly acquainted
with the passes of the forest.
"I was born a native of these parts," answered their guide, and
as he made the reply they stood before the mansion of Cedric;---a
low irregular building, containing several court-yards or
enclosures, extending over a considerable space of ground, and
which, though its size argued the inhabitant to be a person of
wealth, differed entirely from the tall, turretted, and
castellated buildings in which the Norman nobility resided, and
which had become the universal style of architecture throughout
England.
Rotherwood was not, however, without defences; no habitation, in
that disturbed period, could have been so, without the risk of
being plundered and burnt before the next morning. A deep fosse,
or ditch, was drawn round the whole building, and filled with
water from a neighbouring stream. A double stockade, or
palisade, composed of pointed beams, which the adjacent forest
supplied, defended the outer and inner bank of the trench. There
was an entrance from the west through the outer stockade, which
communicated by a drawbridge, with a similar opening in the
interior defences. Some precautions had been taken to place
those entrances under the protection of projecting angles, by
which they might be flanked in case of need by archers or
slingers.
Before this entrance the Templar wound his horn loudly; for the
rain, which had long threatened, began now to descend with great
violence.
NOTE TO CHAPTER II.
Note B.---Negro Slaves.
The severe accuracy of some critics has objected to the
complexion of the slaves of Brian de Bois-Guilbert, as being
totally out of costume and propriety. I remember the same
objection being made to a set of sable functionaries, whom my
friend, Mat Lewis, introduced as the guards and mischief-doing
satellites of the wicked Baron, in his Castle Spectre. Mat
treated the objection with great contempt, and averred in reply,
that he made the slaves black in order to obtain a striking
effect of contrast, and that, could he have derived a similar
advantage from making his heroine blue, blue she should have
been.
I do not pretend to plead the immunities of my order so highly
as this; but neither will I allow that the author of a modern
antique romance is obliged to confine himself to the introduction
of those manners only which can be proved to have absolutely
existed in the times he is depicting, so that he restrain himself
to such as are plausible and natural, and contain no obvious
anachronism. In this point of view, what can be more natural,
than that the Templars, who, we know, copied closely the luxuries
of the Asiatic warriors with whom they fought, should use the
service of the enslaved Africans, whom the fate of war
transferred to new masters? I am sure, if there are no precise
proofs of their having done so, there is nothing, on the other
hand, that can entitle us positively to conclude that they never
did. Besides, there is an instance in romance.
John of Rampayne, an excellent juggler and minstrel, undertook
to effect the escape of one Audulf de Bracy, by presenting
himself in disguise at the court of the king, where he was
confined. For this purpose, "he stained his hair and his whole
body entirely as black as jet, so that nothing was white but his
teeth," and succeeded in imposing himself on the king, as an
Ethiopian minstrel. He effected, by stratagem, the escape of the
prisoner. Negroes, therefore, must have been known in England in
the dark ages.*
* Dissertation on Romance and Minstrelsy, prefixed to
Ritson's Ancient Metrical Romances, p. clxxxvii.
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