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The Visions of the Sleeping Bard

E >> Ellis Wynne >> The Visions of the Sleeping Bard




Then Beelzebub, the devil of thoughtlessness stood up, and in a harsh
voice said: "I am the great prince of heedlessness whose duty it is to
prevent a man taking reflective heed of his state; I am chief of the
incessant hell-flies who utterly amaze men, ever dinning in their ears
concerning their possessions or their pleasures, and never willingly
allowing them a moment's leisure to think of their ways or of their end.
No one of you must dare enter the lists against me in feats serviceable
to the realm of darkness. For what is tobacco, but one of my meanest
weapons to stupefy the brain? What is Mammon's kingdom but a part of my
great dominion? Yea, were I to loosen the bonds I have upon the subjects
of Mammon and Pride, and even of Asmodai, Belphegor and Hypocrisy, no man
would for an instant abide their domination. Wherefore I will do the
work and let no one of you ever utter a word."

Then great Lucifer himself arose from his burning seat, and having turned
his hideous face to both sides, thus began: "Ye chief spirits of the
Eternal Night, princes of hopeless guile, although the vasty gloom and
the wilds of Destruction are more bounden to none for their inhabitants
than to mine own supreme majesty--for it was I who erewhile wishing to
usurp the Almighty's throne, drew myriads of you, my swarthy angels, at
my tail into these deadly horrors, and afterwards drew unto you myriads
of men to share this region--yet there is no gainsay that ye all have
done your share in maintaining and extending this great infernal empire."
Then he began to answer them one by one: "Considering thy recent origin,
Cerberus, I will not deny but that thou hast gained for us much prey in
the island of our foes through tobacco. For they that carry, mix, and
weigh it, practise all manner of fraud; and by its indulgence some are
led on to habitual drinking, some to curse and swear, and some to seek it
through blandishment, and to lie in denying their use of it--not to speak
of the injury it inflicts upon many, and its immoderate use upon all,
body as well as soul. And better than that, myriads of the poor, whom
else we never should touch, sink hither through laying the burden of
their affection upon tobacco, and allowing it to be their master, to
steal the bread from their children's mouth. Then, brother Mammon, your
power is so universal and so well-known on earth that it is a proverb,
'Everything may be had for money.' And without doubt," said he, turning
to Apolyon, "my beloved daughter Pride is most serviceable to us, for
what can there be more pernicious to a man's estate, to his body and
soul, than that proud, obdurate opinion which will make him squander a
hundred pounds rather than yield a crown to secure peace. She keeps them
all so stiff-necked and so intent on things on high that it is amusing to
see them, while gazing upwards, and 'extolling their heads to the stars'
fall straightway into the depths of hell. You too, Asmodai, we all
remember your great services in the past; there is none more resolute
than you to keep safe his prisoners under lock and key, nor any so
unimpeachable. Nowadays a wanton freak provokes only a little laughter,
but you came near perishing there from famine during the recent years of
dearth. And you, my son Belphegor, verminous prince of sloth, no one has
afforded us more pleasure than you; your influence is exceeding great
among noblemen and also among the common people, even to the beggar. And
were it not for the skill of my daughter Hypocrisy in coloring and
adorning, who ever would swallow a single one of our hooks? But after
all, if it were not for the unwearying courage of my brother Beelzebub in
keeping men in heedless dazedness, ye all would not be worth a straw.
Let us once more recapitulate. What good wouldst thou be, Cerberus, with
thy foreign whiff, if Mammon did not succour thee? What merchant would
ever run such risks to obtain thy paltry leaves from India, except for
Mammon's sake? And only for him what king would receive them, especially
into Britain, and who but for his sake would carry them to every part of
the kingdom? Yet how worthless thou too wouldst be, Mammon, if Pride did
not lavish thee upon fair mansions, fine clothes, needless lawsuits,
gardens and horses, extravagant relatives, numerous dishes, floods of
beer and ale, beyond the power and station of their owner; for if money
were spent within the limit of necessity and of becoming moderation, what
would Mammon avail us? Thus thou art nought without Pride; and little
would Pride profit without Wantonness, for bastards are the most numerous
and the most fierce of all the subjects of my daughter Pride. And thou,
Asmodai, what wouldst thou profit us were it not for Sloth and Idleness?
Where wouldst thou obtain a night's lodging? Thou wouldst not dare
expect it from a laborer or diligent student. And who, for the dishonor
and the shame, would ever give thee, Belphegor the Slothful, a moment's
welcome, if Hypocrisy did not disguise thy foulness under the name of an
internal disease, or as a good intent or a seeming despisal of wealth or
the like. She too--my dear daughter Hypocrisy--what good is or ever
would she be, notwithstanding her skill as a seamstress, and her
boldness, without thy aid, my eldest brother, Beelzebub, great chief of
Distraction: if he gave people peace and leisure to reflect seriously
upon the nature of things and their differences, how long would it take
them to find holes in the folds of Hypocrisy's golden garments, and to
see the hooks through the bait? What man in his senses would gather
together toys and fleeting pleasures, surfeiting, vain and disgraceful,
and choose them in preference to a calm conscience and the bliss of a
glorious eternity? Who would refuse to suffer the pangs of martyrdom for
his faith for an hour or a day, or affliction for forty or sixty years,
if he considered that his neighbours suffer here in an hour more than he
could suffer on earth for ever. Tobacco is nothing without Money, or
Money without Pride, and Pride is but a weakling without Wantonness, nor
is Wantonness aught without Sloth, nor Sloth without Hypocrisy, nor
Hypocrisy without Thoughtlessness. Wherefore, now," said Lucifer,
lifting his infernal hoofs on their claw-ends, "to give my own opinion:
however excellent all these may be, I have a friend better suited than
all to our foe of Britain." Then could I see all the archfiends open
wide their horrid mouths upon Lucifer in eager expectation as to what
this could possibly be, while I too was as anxious as they. "A friend,"
continued Lucifer, "whose true worth I have too long neglected, just as
thou, Satan, tempting Job of yore, didst foolishly turn upon him with
severity. This, my kinswoman, I now appoint regent in all matters
appertaining to my kingdom on earth, next to myself. Her name is
Prosperity: she has damned more than all of you together, and little
would ye avail without her presence. For who in war or peril, in famine
or in plague, would lay any value by tobacco, or by money or by the
sprightliness of pride, or who would deign welcome licentiousness or
sloth? And men in such straits are too wide-awake to be distraught by
Hypocrisy, or even by Thoughtlessness; none of the infernal vermin of
Distraction dare show himself in one such storm. Whereas Prosperity,
with its ease and comfort, is the nurse of all of you; beneath her
peaceful shadow and upon her tranquil bosom ye all are nourished, and
every other hellish worm that has its place in the conscience and will be
for ever here gnawing its possessor. As long as one is at ease, there is
no talk but of merriment, of feasts, bargains, genealogies, tales, news
and the like; the name of God is never mentioned except in profane oaths
and curses, whereas the poor and the afflicted have His name upon their
lips and in their hearts always. Go ye, the seven of you, and follow her
and be mindful to keep all a-slumbering and in peace, in good fortune, in
ease and in perfect carelessness; then shall ye see the honest poor
become an untractable, arrogant knave, once he has quaffed of the
alluring cup of Prosperity; ye shall behold the diligent laborer become a
careless babbler and everything else that pleases you. For all seek and
love happy Prosperity; she neither hearkens to advice nor fears censure;
the good she knows not, the bad she nurtures. But this is the greatest
mishap: the man that escapes her sweet charms must be given up in
despair, we must bid farewell to his company for ever. Prosperity then
is my earthly vicegerent; follow her to Britain, and obey her as ye would
our own royal majesty."

At that instant the huge bolt was whirled, and Lucifer and his chief
counsellors were swept away into the vortex of Uttermost Perdition; woe's
me, how terrible it was to behold the jaws of Hell yawning wide to
receive them! "Come now," said the Angel, "we will return, but what thou
hast seen is as nothing compared with all that is within the bounds of
Hell; and if thou didst see everything therein that again would be as
nought when compared with the unutterable woe of the Bottomless Pit; for
it is impossible to have any conception of the life in the Uttermost
Hell." Then suddenly the heavenly Eagle caught me up into the vault of
the accursed gloom by a way I knew not, where, from the court, across the
entire firmament of dark-burning Perdition, and all the land of oblivion
up to the ramparts of the City of Destruction, I obtained full view of
the hideous monster of a giantess whose feet I had previously observed.
"Words fail me to describe her ways and means; but of herself I can tell
thee, that she was a three-faced ogress: one villainous face turned
towards Heaven, yelping and snarling and belching forth cursed
abomination against the heavenly King; another face (and this was fair to
look upon) towards earth, to allure men beneath her baneful shadow; and
the other direful face towards the infernal abyss, to torture all therein
for ages without end. She is greater than the earth in its entirety, and
still continuously increases; she is a hundredfold more hideous than all
Hell which she herself created and which she peoples. If Hell were rid
of her, the vasty deep would be a Paradise; if she were driven from the
earth, the little world would become a heaven; and if she ascended into
Heaven, she would make an uttermost hell of that blissful realm. There
is nought in all the worlds which God has not created, save her alone.
She is the mother of the four deadly enchantresses; she is the mother of
Death and of all evil and misery, and her terrible grasp is upon every
living being. Her name is Sin. Blessed, ever blessed be he who escapes
from her clutches," said the Angel. Thereupon he departed, and I could
hear the distant echo of his voice saying; "Write down what thou hast
seen; and whosoever readeth it thoughtfully will never repent."


WITH HEAVY HEART.


With heavy heart I sought th' infernal coast
And saw the vale of everlasting woes,
The awful home of fiends and of the lost
Where torments rage and never grant repose -
A lake of fire whence horrid flames arose
And whither tended every wayward path
Its prey to lead 'midst cruel dragon-foes;
Yet, though I wandered through withouten scath,
A world I'd spurn, to view again that scene of wrath.

With heavy heart oft I recall to mind
How many a loving friend unwarned fell
To bottomless perdition, there to find
A dread abode where he for aye must dwell;
Who erst were men are now like hounds of Hell
And with unceasing energy entice
To dire combustion all with wily spell,
And to themselves have ta'en the devils' guise,
Their power and skill all ill to do in every wise.

With heavy heart I roamed the dismal land
That is ordained the sinner's end to be;
What mighty waves surge wild on every hand!
What gloomy shadows haunt its canopy!
What horrors fall on high and mean degree!
How hideous is the mien of its fell lords,
What shrieks rise from that boundless glowing sea,
How fierce the curses of the damned hordes,
No mortal ken can e'er conceive or paint in words.

With heavy heart we mourn true friends or kin
And grieve the loss of home, of liberty,
Of that good name which all aspire to win
Or health and ease and sweet tranquility;
When dim, dark clouds enshroud our memory
And pass 'tween us and heaven's gracious smiles,
'Tis sadder far to wake to misery
And feel that Pleasure now no more beguiles,
That sin has left nought but the wounds of its base wiles.

With heavy heart the valiantest of men
Lays low his head beneath th' impending doom;
In terror he descends death's awsome glen;
While there appear flashing through the gloom
The lurid shades of deeds which in the bloom
Of youth he dared; at last the conscience cries
With ruthless voice: "There's life beyond the tomb;"
His dying thoughts all vanities despise
As on the threshold of Eternity he lies.

The heavy heart that suffers all such grief
May, while the breath of life doth still remain,
Hope for a joyous peace and blest relief;
But if grim Death his fated victim gain,
Woe's him that entereth the realm of pain -
For e'er on him its frowning portals close,
Nor gleam of hope shall he perceive again,
For in that vast eternal night he knows
A woe awaits that far surpasseth earthly woes.

The heavy heart beneath its weight is crushed,
And at its very name--Damnation writ,
All men their vain and froward clamors hushed;
But when within the fiery gaping pit
Whose flaming ramparts none will ever quit,
Above the thunder's roar th' accursed host
Raise such loud cries, it passeth human wit
To dream of aught so dire, for at the most,
All woes of earth as pleasures seem unto the lost.

From every vain complaining, cease, my friend,
Since thou art yet not numbered with the dead
But turn thy thoughts unto thy destined end,
Behold thy Fates spin out the vital thread,
And often as thy mind to Hell be led,
To contemplate the doleful gloom aglow,
There will forthwith possess thee such a dread,
Which Christ's unbounded mercy doth bestow,
Lest thou be doomed to that eternal realm of woe.



Footnotes:



{0} The genealogical tables in the book are in graphic form. They are
reproduced here in a more textual format--DP.

ELLIS WYNNE'S PEDIGREE

(I am indebted to E. H. Owen, Esqr., F.S.A., Tycoch, Carnarvon, for most
of the information comprised in the following Tables.)

William Wynne {00a} = Catherine {00b}
|
Ellis Wynne {00c} = Lowri {00d}
|
Edward Wynne = . . . heiress of Glasynys
|
+----------------------------+------------------+
ELLIS WYNNE = Lowri Llwyd {00e} Daughter
|
|
+-----------------------+-----+---------+-------+
| | | | |
William {00f} = {00v} | | | |
| Ellis Catherine Edward Mary = Robert Owen
| {00g} {00h} {00i} {00j}
| |
Daughter=Robert Puw |
| +---+--------------+
John Wynne Puw {00x} | |
| | |
+----+--------+ Ellis {00k} Frances
| | |
| John +----------+-----+------+-----------+-------------+
| | | | | | |
Robert Elizabeth Ann Edward John {00l} Francis Ellis



THE RELATION BETWEEN ELLIS WYNNE & BISHOP HUMPHREYS.


Meredydd ap Evan ap Robert {00m} = Margaret {00n}
|
Humphrey Wynne ap = Catherine {00o}
Meredydd of Gesail- |
gyfarch. |
|
|
+-----------------------------------------------+
| |
John Wynne = Catherine {00p} Evan Llwyd {00q}=Catherine {00w}
ap Humphrey | |
of Gesail- | |
gyfarch | John
Robert Wynne {00r}=Mary{00s} |
| +------------------+
| Evan Griffith
+-------------------------+ |
| | +-----------+
John Wynne = Jane {00t} Margaret=Richard{00u} | |
| | William LOWRI=ELLIS
Robert {00y} | Ob. s. p. WYNNE
|
+---------------------------+-------+------------------+
| | |
HUMPHREY {00z} = Elizabeth {000a} John Catherine
| Died at Oxford.
|
+----------+---------------------+
| |
Ann Margaret = John Llwyd {000b}
Ob. s. p. 1698 Died 1759

{00a} William Wynne of Glyn [Cywarch]. Sheriff of Merioneth 1618 &
1637. D. 1658. 12th in direct male descent from Osborn Wyddel.

{00b} Catherine, daughter of William Lewis Anwyl of Park. Died 1638.

{00c} Ellis Wynne, 3rd son who probably lived at Maes-y-garnedd,
Llanbedr.

{00d} Lowri, only daughter and heiress of Ed. Jones of Maes-y-garnedd,
eldest borther of Col. Jones, Cromwell's brother-in-law who was executed
in 1660 as a regicide.

{00e} Lowri Llwyd of Hafod-lwyfog Beddgelert.

{00f} Rector of Llanaber.

{00g} Ellis Died 1732.

{00h} Catherine Died young.

{00i} Edward Rector of Penmorfa.

{00j} Robert Owen of Tygwyn Dolgellau.

{00k} Rector of Llanferres.

{00l} Rector of Llandrillo.

{00m} 11th in male descent from Owen Gwynedd. Died 1525.

{00n} Daughter of Morris ap John ap Meredydd of Clunnenau.

{00o} Daughter and heiress of Evan ap Griffith of Cwmbowydd.

{00p} Daughter of William Wynne ap William of Cochwillan.

{00q} Of Hafod-lwyfog.

{00r} Died 1637.

{00s} Daughter of Ellis ap Cadwaladr of Ystumllyn.

{00t} Daughter of Evan Llwyd of Dylase.

{00u} Richard Humphreys of Hendref Gwenllian, Penrhyndeudraeth.
Desceneded in male line from Marchweithian. An Officer in the Royal Army
through Civil War. Died 1699.

{00v} . . . Lloyd of Trallwyn.

{00w} Catherine, Daughter of Griffith Wynne of Penyberth.

{00x} Robert Puw of Garth Maelan.

{00y} Robert Wynne of Gesail-gyfarch, Barr.-at-law. Ob. s. p. 1685.

{00z} Humphrey. Born 1648. Dean of Bangor, 1680, Bishop 1689. Bishop
of Hereford, 1701. Died 1712.

{000a} Elizabeth, daughter of Dr. Morgan Bishop of Bangor 1678, son of
Rd. Morgan, M.P. for Montgomery Boroughs.

{000b} John Llwyd of Penylan, Barr.-at-law, son of Dr. W. Lloyd, Bishop
of Norwich, deprived in 1691 as one of the Nonjurors.

{0a} "A Catalogue of Graduates in the University of Oxford between 1659
and 1850" contains the following entry: --"Wynne (Ellis) Jes. BA., Oct.
14, 1718, MA., June 13, 1722." But one can hardly suppose this to have
been the Bardd Cwsr, as in 1718 he would be 47 years of age.

{0b} The following entries are taken from the register at Llanfair-
juxta-Harlech: --"Elizaeus Wynne Generosus de Lasynys et Lowria Lloyd de
Havod-lwyfog in agro Arvonensi in matrimonio conjuncti fuere decimo
quarto die Feb. 1702."

{0c} "Elizaeus Wynne junr. de Lasynys sepultus est decimo die Octobris
A.D. 1732."

{0d} "Owenus Edwards cler. nuper Rector hums ecclesiae sepultus est
tricesimo die Maii A.D. 1711." (From the Llanfair parish register.)

{0e} "Lowria Uxor Elizaei Wynne cler. de Lasynys vigesimo quarto die
Augti. sepulta est Ano. Dom. 1720."

"Elizaeus Wynne Cler. nuper Rector dignissimus huius ecclesiae sepultus
est 17mo. die Julii 1734." (From the parish register at Llanfair.)

{0f} "The Visions of the Sleeping Bard. First Part. Printed in London
by E. Powell for the Author, 1703,"

{1a} The opening lines.--Ellis Wynne opens his vision as so many early
English poets are wont, with a description of the season when, and the
circumstances under which he fell asleep. Compare especially Langland's
Visions, prologus:

In a somer seson whan soft was the sonne
I went wyde in this world wondres to here,
Ac on a May mornynge on Malvern hulles
Me befel a ferly of fairy me thoughte,
I was wery forwandred and went me to reste
Under a brode bank bi a bornes side
And as I lay and leued and loked in the wateres
I slombred in a slepyng it sweyved so merye.

{1b} One of the mountains.--The scene these opening lines describe was
one with which the Bard was perfectly familiar. He had often climbed the
slopes of the Vale of Ardudwy to view the glorious panorama around him
from Bardsey Isle to Strumble Head, the whole length of rock-bound coast
lay before him, while behind was the Snowdonian range, from Snowdon
itself to Cader Idris; and often, no doubt, he had watched the sun
sinking "far away over the Irish Sea, and reaching his western ramparts"
beyond the Wicklow Hills.

{1c} Master Sleep.--Cp.:

Such sleepy dulness in that instant weigh'd
My senses down.

--Dante: Inf. C.I. (Cary's trans.)

Now leaden slumber with life's strength doth fight.

--Shakespere: Lucrece, 124.

{4a} Such a fantastic rout.--Literally "such a battle of Camlan." This
was the battle fought between Arthur and his nephew Medrod about the year
540 on the banks of the Camel between Cornwall and Somerset, where Arthur
received the wounds of which he died. The combatants being relatives and
former friends, it was characterised with unwonted ferocity, and has
consequently come to be used proverbially for any fray or scene of more
than usual tumult and confusion.

So all day long the noise of battle roll'd
Among the mountains by the winter sea,
Until King Arthur's table, man by man,
Had fallen in Lyonness about their Lord.

--Tennyson: Morte d'Arthur.

{4b} To lampoon my king.--The Bard commenced this Vision in the reign of
William III. (v. also p. 17, "to drink the King's health") and completed
it in that of Queen Anne, who is mentioned towards the end of the Vision.

{7a} The Turk and old Lewis of France.--The Sultan Mustapha and Lewis
XIV. are thus referred to.

{14a} Clippers.--The context seems to demand this meaning, that is,
"those who debase coin of the realm," rather than "beggars" from the
Welsh "clipan."

{20a} Backgammon and dice.--These games, together with chess, were
greatly in vogue in mediaeval Wales, and are frequently alluded to in the
Mabinogion and other early works. The four minor games or feats
(gogampau) among the Welsh were playing the harp, chess, backgammon, and
dice. The word "ffristial a disiau" are here rendered by the one word
"dice"--ffristial meaning either the dice-box, or the game itself, and
disiau, the dice.

{21a} This wailing is for pay.--Cp.

Ut qui conducti plorant in funere dicunt
et faciunt prope plora dolentibus ex animo.

--Horace: Ars Poetica, 430-1.

{23a} The butt of everybody.--Whenever a number of bards, in the course
of their peregrinations from one patron's hall to another, met of a
night, their invariable custom was to appoint one of the company to be
the butt of their wit, and he was expected to give ready answer in verse
and parry the attacks of his brethren. It is said of Dafydd ap Gwilym
that he satirized one unfortunate butt of a bard so fiercely that he fell
dead at his feet.

{24a} Congregation of mutes.--At the time Ellis Wynne wrote, the Quakers
were very numerous in Merioneth and Montgomery and especially in his own
immediate neighbourhood, where they probably had a burying-ground and
conventicle. They naturally became the objects of cruel persecution at
the hands of the dominant church as well as of the state; their meetings
were broken up, their members imprisoned and maltreated, until at last
they were forced to leave their fatherland and seek freedom of worship
across the Atlantic

{25a} Speak no ill.--A Welsh proverb; v. Myv. Arch. III. 182.

{26a} We came to a barn.--The beginning of Nonconformity in Wales. In
the Author's time there were already many adherents to the various
dissenting bodies in North Wales. Walter Cradoc, Morgan Llwyd and others
had been preaching the Gospel many years previously throughout the length
and breadth of Gwynedd; and it was their followers that now fell under
the Bard's lash.

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