SAINTE GILES OF BUTTERBIE, His Holie Legende. HE following admirable local song, has appeared in print, in two publications, viz. in Hone's Table Book, and in Prest's London Singer's Penny Magazine, the editor of which latter publication, has thought proper to ascribe its authorship, to two gentlemen who formerly resided in the city of Durham-it is however very doubtful, whether either of those gentlemen, had any thing to do with concocting this most ludicrous production. Of the song, judging from a M.S. in the possession of a correspondent, the copy in the Magazine, appears to be the best, and we accordingly give it, in preference to the one in the Table Book; to which work however, we are indebted for an account, of the presumed origin of so authentic a piece of Legendary History. "In the slang of Durham," says Mr. Hone, a Butterby Church goer is one who does not frequent any church; and when such an one is asked "What church have you attended to day?" the customary answer is "I have been attending service at Butterby." [A hamlet, about three miles distant, from the city of Durham.] Butterby church has been dedicated to St. Giles, (i. e. St. Giles â Scroggins), and several articles have been written, and privately circulated, descriptive of the architecture of this imaginary edifice; every arch has had its due meed of approbation, and its Saint has been exalted in song. A legend has been written-I beg pardon, found in one of the vaults of Bear park, containing an account of divers miracles performed by St. Giles; which legend is no doubt as worthy of credit, and equally true, as some of Alban Butler's."-Hone's Table Book, page 366. The following reprint of "the Legende" with its notes, annotations, &c., has been edited for our Table Book, by a gentleman well known in the Antiquarian world, who is the correspondent above alluded to, and is also, a Member of the Percy Society. SAINTE GILES HIS HOLIE LEGENDE. WRITTEN IN LATIN BY FATHER PETER, MONKE OF BEAVPAIRE, AND DONE INTO INGLISH THIS YEAR OF REDEMPTION 1555, BY MAISTER JOHN WALTON, SCHOOLMAISTER, SAINTE MAGDALENE HER CHAPEL YARD, DVRHAM: AND DEDICATED TO OVR GOOD QUEEN MARY, WHOM GOD LONG PRESERVE. Sainte Giles, his description, and strange appearance. His birthe and manie wagers thereonne. His discoverie by a holie Pryor, and the good man's hearing of celestial musick. The fears and prayers of the holie man, and his cautious approach DID ye ne'er hear of St. Giles, The sainte of famed Butterbie steeple? His face was as red as the sun, His eyne were a couple of sloes, sir, And he had a huge bottle nose, sir, Of woman he never was born, And wagers have been laid upon it! As he was wont after his brick-fast, And saw something in a tree stick fast, Quite frightened, he fell on his knees, And out popp'd a hand, and then three toes: Judging from the first verse of the original, which is all we have seen, Walton" appears, to have made a free translation-it is as follows: "Maister to the Sainte, whom he interrogateth, as followeth in the next stave. The Pryor's speech, and the stern reply of the babie Sainte, which for its finis, containeth a threat of combustion. The Pryor's amazement and compliance. Ste Giles becomes an apte and diligent fryar, in due time. His sanctitiehis exorcisms, and somewhat unsaintlie advice to the sinner, which, I pray the lector may not follow. Now, when he got out of his fainte, He approached, with demeanour most humble, Says the pryor, "From whence did you come, But the babie said nothing but mum And for the prieste cared not a farden: And said, "I'm from heaven, d'ye see, sir, The pryor stood quite in a maze, To hear such an infant so queerly call, Was thought by the good folks around. In sanctitie he passed his years, 4 Once or twice exorcised a demoniac; Applied to a flask of old Cogniac; And, if he saw sinner look glum or sad, And say, 1 "Not an angel." M.S. in the possession of the executors of the late J. Catnach, Esq. of London. 2" Wind and limb." "This line is not found in some of the old MSS. and is probably a modern interpolation." Note, in a copy of Prest's work, formerly in the possession of Thomas Cribb. Esq., M.P.R. 3" So humbling himself."-Hone's copy. 4 Hone "Days." An evident mistake. His diverse miracles, and especially, his turning the Were to the right about O magnum opus, incredibile, et inexplicabile! Ye Sainte rambleth to Butterbie, his visit to the well, and his benison thereonne. The wondrous effect, of the benison on the well, and the multitudinous pilgrimages thereto, in consequence thereof. In miracles too the sainte dealt, And some may be seen to this minute; 1 Tho' the devil himself might be in it: One evening when rambling out, Boh! Were's winding stream stopp'd the rover, So he told it to turn round about, And let him go quietly over, And the river that instant, complied!2 To Butterbie often he'd stray, And sometimes look in at the well,3 sir; How it came by its virtues I'll tell, sir ; Thus saying, he bent his way home, Now mark the event which has followed, A cure for sick folk-for it's hallowed: From many a far distant part, sir, Blesses the sainte's pious heart, sir, That gave to the fount so much grace. At Fynchale, his saintship did dwell, 1 Var. lect. "Tho' Saint Sathanas."-Hone's copy. 2 In the neighbourhood of the Nab End, a place in the environs of the City of Durham, it is evident, that the Were, has at some period, changed its course-the old channel of the stream, may be distinctly traced, Whether this event occurred at the bidding of Saint Giles, we leave to the Antiqnary and Geologist to determine. 3 There are three mineral springs at Butterby, one called "The Sweet Spring" is a clear water, slightly impregnated with carbonate of lime, the second is the "Salt Water Spring," and the other is the "Sulphur Well," which is probably the one alluded to in the Legend, as it is much frequented, and deemed highly efficacious in cutaneous affections. VOL. II. 4" The Stuff."-Hone's copy. Ye Sainte quitteth Fynchale perforce, and voweth as to the destroyers thereof, that he will serve them out! He buildeth a kirke at Butterbie, wherein he endeth his daies, in the odour of sanctitie, after a well spent life. Of his burial by the monkes after his decease, which happened in the Holie season of Lente. And left the bare walls as a shell, And gulp'd the fat monkes like an oyster: But swore he'd the fell legions all amuse, Tho his hide should be flayed like Bartholemew's, Another kirke straight he erected, And for holiness, one which famed much is, 2 And kept out of Beelzebub's clutches: And thus in the eve of his days, He still paternosters and avēs sung, His lungs were worn threadbare with praise, Till death, who slays pryors, rest gave his tongue, It would be too long to tell here, Of how, when and where, the monkes buried him; To regions of bliss angels hurried him. 3 He popp'd off, on one of Lente Sundaies, And his quiristers sung "De profundis Finis coronat opus. Explycit I. W. 1 "So forced his warm quarters to quit,”—Prest's copy. We, here, prefer the reading of Hone. 2" Which for its Sanctity, famed much is."-Hone. Though there is no church at Butterby now, yet in days of old, there were a church and hospital there, dedicated to Saint Leonard. They stood in a field adjoining the ancient moated manor house. Many stone coffins, vases for holy water, &c., have been dug up at different times.-See View of Durham, Hoggett, Durham, 1824. Page 89. 3 “ That somewhere or other, they curried him.”—Hone. |