THE outline of the early history of the Priory of Finchale cannot be concisely stated in better language than in the following extract from a sketch left by Mr. Surtees himself:

"The ruins of Finchale Abbey stand in deep retirement three miles from Durham, on the northern brink of the Wear, where the river sweeps over a rocky channel round a little level plot almost covered with the buildings. The woods of Cocken cover the wild opposite bank.

"In the twelfth century, the Hermit Godric attained the honour of sanctity by a life of severe mortification led in this sequestered spot, which he tenanted for half a century, accompanied first by a poor sister, and, after her death, in perfect solitude. He died in 1170; but Bishop Flambard had previously granted Finchale, with its woods and waters, and fishings, to the monastery of Durham, on condition that, after the death of its eremite tenant, some brethren of their house should occupy the cell; and, accordingly, on the death of the anchoret, it was held by two monks of Durham, Reginald and Henry."

Twenty-six years after the death of Godric, the importance of Finchale was very materially increased by the

annexation to it of a monastic foundation which Henry Pudsey, one of the three sons of Hugh Bishop of Durham, had founded at Backstanesford, now Baxterford, near the city of Durham, but which the jealousy of the rich and firmly seated monks of that church would not permit to remain so immediately in their own vicinity. From that period to the dissolution Finchale existed as one of the cells of the Benedictine monastery of Durham (which were seven in number, viz. Coldingham, Holy Island, Finchale, Stanford, Lithum, Jarrow, and Wearmouth); it was governed by a prior, and contained generally eight or nine monks. In the early part of the list of Priors occur the names of three who were afterwards Bishops of Durham, Robert de Stitchil, Robert de Insula, and Henry de Stamford, and among the latter names is that of Richard Bell, who was Bishop of Carlisle at the latter end of the fifteenth century.

The natural beauties of Finchale induced the monks of Durham to select it as their place of occasional recreation; and in p. 30 of this volume we have a curious ordination made by the Prior of Durham in 1408, defining the manner in which this indulgence should be enjoyed. It was arranged that there should be always at Finchale a Prior and eight monks, of whom four should be constant residents, and the other four visitors from the convent at Durham. Their furlough was to last for three weeks; and their time to be divided by the following regulations. Two were every day to be present at the celebration of matins, mass, and vespers, and other services in the choir; whilst the other two had liberty to ramble in the fields religiously and honestly, provided that they were present at mass and vespers, unless from some reasonable cause, with the license of the Prior, they were lawfully excused. This liberty was to be enjoyed by the four monks on alternate days. All the four were to lie in the dormitory, with the other

resident monks; but, notwithstanding, a convenient place or chamber was to be assigned to them, where a fire and other necessaries should be provided for them, whither all or any of them might resort for their special recreation and comforts (pro eorum solaciis poterint specialius recreari) whenever they pleased. An honest servant or boy was to be assigned to wait upon them by the Prior. At six of the clock in the morning two of the visitors with their resident fellows were to meet in the choir to say the fifteen psalms, according to custom, and afterwards matins; and the four strangers were bound to come to matins and divine service, so that each of them should celebrate high mass at least once in the week; and on every Sunday all were to be present in the chapter, and at the mass of the glorious Virgin. It is added (apparently by way of postscript,) that each of the strangers, if young (juniorum), should be present at matins and prime, and should read the lessons and martyriloge.

Such were the lives of the monks of Durham during their holidays. About fifty years before, the brethren at Finchale had been reproved by the Prior of Durham for adding to their recreations by keeping hounds (p. 28); and at a subsequent period (1453) they required reproof for having fallen into a naughty habit of wearing linen shirts instead of the linsy-woolsey of their order.

In two cases in the accounts of the expenses of the community the "Player chambre " is mentioned; which is connected by the Editor with the religious drama, and made the occasion of some remarks, which we consider to be well worth extracting. It is explained as

"A chamber in the Priory appropriated to dramatic representations, such as the Mysteries or Miracle Plays, and the room in which the Monks assembled to hear the minstrels and glee-men, who visited them for their amusement. Upon one antient dramatic representation, with

out doubt performed within the walls of Finchale in its day, a few particulars may be here recorded, which will probably throw a new light upon the history of Shakspear. Aubrey (Letters from the Bodleian, III. 537) says that the father of our dramatist was a butcher, and I

have been told heretofore by some of the neighbours that, when he (Shakespear) was a boy, he exercised his father's trade, but when he killed a calfe he would do it in high style, and make a speech.' Shakespear's father may have been a butcher, for any thing we know to the contrary, but we do not consider that the killing of calves by his son, of which Aubrey speaks, is to be taken as a proof that the youth followed his father's trade. There was an old dramatic representation called Killing the Calf. The performer played his part behind a door or curtain, and, by means of ventriloquism, acted at once the butcher and the animal. one talked and pitied; the other moaned and seemed to pray for mercy, till its moving solicitations became fainter and fainter, and it appeared to die. We have mislaid our reference to an entry in a lately published miscellany, in which a sum of money is stated to have been paid to a man who killed a calf behind a cur

The

tain, for the amusement of the Princess Mary, the daughter of Henry VIII. before her accession to the throne, and therefore long before the time of Shakespear; and as a proof that the amusement was well known in the north of England in modern times, we give the following extract from the Newcastle Chronicle of 2nd December, 1775: Lately died at Barnard Castle, Joney Davie, alias Davidson, aged 95, well known by most people in the county of Durham, in being noted for hegging about, and getting his living by a droll performance which he called killing the calf. The son of this man, a second Joney Davie, was a dancing master, and he too killed the calf. He died at a very advanced age, about twenty years ago, and was buried at Stanwick, in the North Riding of Yorkshire. And now comes the question- -was this the calf which Shakespear killed? and was his mighty mind first excited by his popular performance of this antient representation? Did the applause which, in his boyhood, he received at Stratford, when he killed his calf in high style, lead to the expanding of his genius, and to

Taous or peacock herself, whose face was like the full moon, and her eyes of the circumference of one's finger and thumb. Would you change the manners of a country? If your Shah wears a beard, that is no reason why our king should not be shaved. If you want half a dozen wives, and much good may they do you, Mr. Jesse may be contented with one. He has no Anderûn in his house. His rooms are all open-his women go unveiled and show their faces to all who look at them. Go! every nation has its own customs. If our king chooses to give a thousand gold tomauns to have his charcoal looked after, and his bushes counted, it is no concern of yours. Your face is thrown upside down. Till you have been longer among the Franks, keep the lips of discretion over the tongue of wonder, or your beard will be laughed at." Mr. Jesse, however, may well laugh at the ignorance of the Mussulman, for while he has been visiting his jungles, and inspecting the charcoal, he has also been devoting his attention to all subjects connected with the study of nature; and has produced

two volumes much to be commended for the variety of their information, and the agreeable manner in which it is detailed. Many curious anecdotes of the sagacity of the animal creation are mentioned, and many accurate observations are made of their habits and instincts; so that the book is a valuable addition to that part of the great volume of nature which the industry of man has unrolled and studied. As

we cannot afford any copiousness of extract, we will give one which records an instance of the power of imitation, acting chiefly through memory, as remarkable as any that we remember to have heard of in the animal creation.

He is speaking of a parrot at Hampton-Court. (Vol. ii. p. 9.)

"As you wished me to write down whatever I could collect about my sister's wonderful parrot, I proceed to do so, only promising that I will tell you nothing but what I can vouch for having myself heard. Her laugh is quite extraordinary, and it is impossible not to help joining in it one's self, more especially when in the midst of it she cries out Don't make me laugh so, I shall die, I shall die,' and then continues laughing more violently than before. Her crying and sobbing are curious, and

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if you say 'Poor poll, what is the matter?' she says ' 'So bad, so bad, got such a cold!' and after crying for some time, will suddenly cease, and making a noise like drawing a long breath, says Better now,' and begins to laugh. The first time I ever heard her speak was one day when I was talking to the maid at the bottom of the stairs, and heard what I then considered to be a child calling out 'Payne, (the maid's name,) I'm not well, I'm not well;' and on my saying 'What's the matter with that child?' she replied 'It is only the parrot; she always does so when I leave her alone, to make me come back ;' and so it proved, for on her going into the room, the parrot stopped and began laughing quite in a jeering way. It is singular enough that whenever she is affronted, in any way, she begins to cry, and when pleased, to laugh. If any one happens to cough or sneeze, she says, ' What a bad cold.' One day when the children were playing with her, the maid came into the room, and on their repeating to her several things which the parrot had said, Poll looked up and said quite plainly, 'No, I did not !' Sometimes, when she is inclined to be mischievous, the maid threatens to beat her, and she often says 'No, you won't.' She calls the cat very plainly the most amusing part is, whenever I want puss, puss!' and then answers 'mew !' but to make her call it, and to that purpose say puss! puss !' myself, she always answers' mew,' till I begin mewing; and then she begins calling' puss' as quick as possible. She imitates every kind of noise, and barks so naturally that I have known her set all the dogs on the parade in Hampton-Court barking; and I dare say, if the truth were known, wondering what was barking at them; and the consternation I have seen her cause in a party of cocks and hens, by her crowing and clucking, has been the most ludicrous thing possible. She sings just like a child, and I have more than once thought it was a human being. It is most ridiculous to hear her make what is called a false note, and then say 'Oh! la!' and burst out laughing at herself, beginning again quite in another key. She is very fond of singing Buy a Broom,' which she says quite plainly; but, in the same spirit as calling the cat, if we say, with a view to make her repeat it, Broom,' she always says 'Buy a Brush,' and then laughs as a child might do when mischievous. She often prefers a kind of exercise which I do not know how to

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'Buy a

describe, except by saying it is like the lance exercise. She puts her claw behind her, first on one side, then on the other, then in front, and round over