1 SCENE I." The thunder of my cannon shall be heard."

WE have the same anchronism in Hamlet and in Macbeth. It is scarcely necessary to tell our readers that gunpowder was invented about a century later than the time of John, and that the first battle-field in which cannon were used is commonly supposed to have been that of Cressy. And yet the dramatic poet could not have well avoided this literal violation of propriety, both here and in the second Act, when he talks of "bullets wrapp'd in fire." He uses terms which were familiar to his audience, to present a particular image to their senses. Had he, instead of cannon, spoken of the mangonell and the petraria, -the stone-flinging machines of the time of John, -he would have addressed himself to the very few who might have appreciated his exactness; but his words would have fallen dead upon the ears of the many. We have other anachronisms in this play, which we may as well dismiss at once, in connexion with the assertion of the principle upon which they are to be defended. Act I. we have the "half-faced groat" of Henry VII. and the "three-farthing rose " of Elizabeth. The mention of these coins conveys a peculiar image, which must have been rejected if the poet had been bound by the same rules that govern an antiquary. So in the fifth Act, where the Dauphin says he has "the best cards for the game,"-the poet had to choose between the adoption of an allusion full of spirit and perfectly intelligible, or the substitution of some prosaic and feeble form of speech, that might have had the poor merit of not anticipating the use of playing cards in Europe, by about a century and a half. We are

In

not aware of any other passage in this play which has afforded" the learned" an opportunity (which they have not lost in speaking of these passages) of propounding the necessity of constructing a work of art upon the same principles of exactness that go to produce a perfect Chronological Table.

2 SCENE I." A soldier, by the honour-giving hand Of Coeur-de-Lion knighted in the field."

The design at the end of Act I. supplies, better than verbal description, a notion of the remarkable ceremonial of creating a battle-knight. The general disposition of the figures is fron a vignette in Nodier's "Voyages Pittoresques et Romantiques dans l'ancienne France;" which represents Philip Augustus conferring knighthood on the Prince Arthur of this play. The costume of the persons represented in our design is from the first and

* *

second seals of Richard I.,- from the tombs of Essex, Pembroke, and Salisbury,-and from the Sloane MS., No. 1975. St. Palaye, in his Memoirs of Chivalry, says, "In warfare there was scarcely any important event which was not preceded or followed by a creation of knights. * Knighthood was conferred, on such occasions, in a manner at once expeditious and military. The soldier presented his sword, either by the cross or the guard, to the prince or the general from whom he was to receive the accolade-this was all the ceremonial." "* It was in this manner,-in the absence of those processions and banquets that accompanied the investiture of knighthood during peace, -that four hundred and sixty-seven French gentlemen were made knights at the battle of Rosebeck, in 1382; and five hundred before the battle of Azincour, 1415.+ Our English chroniclers tell us that, in 1339, the armies of Edward III. and Philip of France, having approached near to each other, arranged themselves in order of battle, and fourteen gentlemen were knighted; but the armies separated without coming to an engagement, and a hare happening to pass between the two hosts, some merriment was produced, and the knights were called the knights of the hare. This is an example of the custom of knighting before a battle. At a later period we have an instance of knighting after a fight. Henry VIII., after the battle of Spurs, in 1514, made Sir John Pechye Banneret and John Carrè Knight, both of them having done great service in the encounter.§ When the "honour-giving hand" of the first Richard created Robert Faulconbridge a knight "in the field," we are not told by the poet whether it was for the encouragement of valour or for the reward of service. But in Cymbeline we have an example of bestowing of the honour as the guerdon of bravery. The king, after the battle with the Romans, commands Belarius, Guiderius, and Arviragus, thus:

SCENE I.-"Look, where three-farthings goes."

The three-farthing silver-piece of Elizabeth was, as the value may import, extremely thin;-and thus the allusion of Faulconbridge, "my face so thin." "It was once the fashion," says Burton (Anatomy of Melancholy), "to stick real flowers in the ear;" and thus the thin face and the rose in the ear, taken together, were to be avoided"Lest men should say, Look, where three farthings goes; "for the three-farthing piece was not only thin, and therefore might be associated with the "thin face," but it bore a rose which assimilated with the rose in the ear. This coin was called the "three-farthing-rose," and the following is a copy of it :

in Southey's Specimens; and of which the following extract will furnish an adequate notion:

"But after, when the Danes, who never wearied were,
Came with intent to make a general conquest here,
They brought with them a man deeem'd of so wondrous
might,

As was not to be match'd by any mortal wight:
For, one could scarcely bear his ax into the field;
Which as a little wand the Dane would lightly wield :
And (to enforce that strength) of such a dauntless spirit,
A man (in their conceit) of so exceeding merit,
That to the English oft they off'red him (in pride)
The ending of the war by combat to decide.

.

Then Colebrond for the Danes came forth in ireful red;
Before him (from the camp) an ensign first displav'd
Amidst a guard of gleaves: then sumptuously array'd
Were twenty gallant youths. that to the warlike sound
Of Danish brazen drums, with many a lofty bound,
Come with their country's march, as they to Mars should
dance.

Thus, forward to the fight, both champions then advance.
And each, without respect, doth resolutely chuse
The weapon that he brought, nor doth his foe's refuse.
The Dane prepares his ax, that pond'rous was to feel,
Whose squares were laid with plates, and riveted with steel,
And armed down along with pikes; whose harden'd points
(Fore'd with the weapon's weight) had power to tear the joints
Of cuirass or of mail, or whatso'er they took :
Which caus'd him at the knight disdainfully to look.

Then with such eager blows each other they pursue,
As every offer made should threaten imminent death;
Until, through heat and toil both hardly drawing breath,
They desperately do close. Look, how two boars being set
Together side to side, their threat'ning tusks do whet,
And with their gnashing teeth their angry foam do bite,
Whilst still they should'ring seek, each other where to smite;
Thus stood those ireful knights: till, flying back, at length
The palmer, of the two the first recovering strength,
Upon the left arm lent great Colebrond such a wound,
That whilst his weapon's point fell well-near to the ground,
And slowly he it rais'd, the valiant Guy again
Sent through his cloven scalp his blade into his brain.
When downward went his head, and up his heels he threw :
As wanting hands to bid his countrymen adieu."

The legends of Sir Guy were well known in Shakspere's time; and the fierce encounter between this redoubted champion and "Colbrande," who fought

"On foote, for horse might heave him none," had been recited round many a hearth, from the old "histories." A curious specimen of the

legends of Sir Guy and Sir Bevis, from a black letter quarto of the middle of the sixteenth century, is given in Capell's "School of Shakespeare."

8 SCENE I." The awless lion could not wage the fight,

Nor keep his princely heart from Richard's hand."

The reputation for indomitable courage, and prodigious physical strength, of Richard I., transferred this story from romance to history. Rastall gives it in his Chronicle; "It is sayd that a lyon was put to Kynge Richarde, beynge in prison, to have devoured him, and when the lyon was gapynge, he put his arme in his mouthe, and pulled the lyon by the harte so hard, that he slew the lyon, and therefore some say he is called Rycharde Cure de Lyon; but some say he is called Cure de Lyon, because of his boldenesse and hardy stomake." Our readers may compare this with the following extract from the old Metrical Romance of Richard Coeur de Lion : *

66

The poet tells us, that Richard, in his return from the Holy Land, having been discovered in the habit of a palmer in Almayne,' and apprehended as a spy, was by the king thrown into prison. Wardrewe, the king's son, hearing of Richard's great strength, desires the jailor to let him have a sight of his prisoners. Richard being the foremost, Wardrewe asks him, if he dare stand a buffet from his hand?' and that on the morrow he shall return him another. Richard consents, and receives a blow that staggers him. On the morrow, having previously waxed his hands, he waits his antagonist's arrival. Wardrewe accordingly, proceeds the story, 'held forth as a trewe man,' and Richard gave him such a blow on the

*Tercy's Reliques, vol. iii. Introduction.

cheek, as broke his jaw-bone, and killed him on the spot. The king, to revenge the death of his son, orders, by the advice of one Eldrede, that a lion kept purposely from food, shall be turned loose upon Richard. But the king's daughter having fallen in love with him, tells him of her father's resolution, and at his request procures him forty ells of white silk kerchers:' and here the description of the combat begins :

'The kever-chefes be toke on honde,
And aboute his arme he wonde;
And thought in that ylke while,
To flee the lyon with some gyle.
And syngle in a kyrtyll he stode,
And abode the lyon fyers and wode,
With that came the jaylere,
And other men that wyth him were,
And the lyon them amonge;
His pawes were stiff and stronge.
The chamber dore they undone,
And the lyon to them is gone.
Rycharde sayd, Helpe, Lorde Jesu'
The lyon made to him venu,
And wolde hym have all to rente:
Kynge Richarde besyde hym glente.
The lyon on the breste hym spurned,
That aboute he tourned.

The lyon was hongry and megre,
And bette his tayle to be egre;
He loked aboute as he were madde;
Abrode he all his pawes spradde.
He cryed lowde, and yaned wyde.
Kynge Rycharde bethought hym that tyde
What hym was best, and to hym sterte,
In at the throte his honde he gerte,
And hente out the herte with his honde,
Lounge and all that he there fonde.
The lyon fell deed to the grounde:
Rycharde felt no wem ne wounde.
He fell on his knees on that place,
And thanked Jesu of his grace.""

I would appear scarcely necessary to entreat the reader to bear in mind,-before we place in apposition the events which these scenes bring before us, and the facts of history, properly so called, that the "Histories" of Shakspere are Dramatic Poems. And yet, unless this circumstance be watchfully regarded, we shall fall into the error of setting up one form of truth in contradiction to, and not in illustration of, another form of truth. It appears to us a worse than useless employment to be running parallels between the poet and the chronicler, for the purpose of shewing that for the literal facts of history the poet is not so safe a teacher as the chronicler. In this somewhat prosaic spirit, a gentleman of ability and research wrote a series of essays that undertook to solve two problems,-"What were Shakspere's authorities for his history, and how far has he departed from them? And whether the plays may be given to our youth as properly historical."

The writer

of these essays decides the latter question in the negative, and maintains that these pieces are "quite unsuitable as a medium of instruction to the English youth;"-and his great object is, therefore, to contradict, by a body of minute proofs, the assertion of A. W. Schlegel, with regard to these plays, that "the principal traits in every event are given with so much correctness, their apparent causes and their secret motives are given with so much penetration, that we may therein study history, so to speak, after nature, without fearing that such lively images should ever be effaced from our minds." Schlegel appears to us to have hit the true cause why the youth of England have been said to take their history from Shakspere. The "lively images" of the poet

Shakspere's Historical Plays considered historically. By the Right Hon. T. P. Courtenay.

present a general truth much more completely than the tedious narratives of the annalist. The ten English "histories" of Shakspere "the magnificent dramatic Epopée, of which the separate pieces are different cantos"-stand in the same relation to the contemporary historians of the events they deal with, as a landscape does to a map. Mr. Courtenay says, "Let it be well understood that if in any case I derogate from Shakspere as an historian, it is as an historian only." Now, in the sense in which Mr. Courtenay uses the word "historian," by which he means one who describes past events with the most accurate observances of time and place, and with the most diligent balancing of conflicting testimony - Shakspere has no pretensions to be regarded. The principle, therefore, of viewing Shakspere's history through another medium than that of his art, and pronouncing, upon this view, that his historical plays cannot be given to our youth as "properly historical," is nearly as absurd as it would be to derogate from the merits of Mr. Turner's beautiful drawings of coast scenery, by maintaining and proving that the draughtsman had not accurately laid down the relative positions of each bay and promontory. It would not be, to our minds, a greater mistake to confound the respective labours of the landscape painter and the hydrographer, than to subject the poet to the same laws which should govern the chronicler. There may be, in the poet, a higher truth than the literal, evolved in spite of, or rather in combination with, his minute violations of accuracy; we may in the poet better study history, so to speak, after nature," than in the annalist,-because the poet masses and generalizes his facts, subjecting them, in the order in which he presents them to the mind, as well as in the elaboration which he bestows upon them, to the laws of his art, which has a clearer sense of fitness and proportion than