Tuesday, March 11, 2014

An eccentric Vicar and his ghostly poetry

Robert Herrick
Probably one of the greatest times for literature in the British Isles was about 400 years ago. Writers such as William Shakespeare, Ben Jonson, John Donne, Milton, Dryden, Jonathan Swift, Alexander Pope, to name just a few, are even now household names.

But there is a long list of generally unknown “second liners” who are only judged so because they had the misfortune to be born during this star-studded time of history. Such a man was Robert Herrick.

I stumbled upon a book of his poetry titled A selection from the lyrical poems of Robert Herrick while rootling around in a charity shop some months ago. It appeared to have never been read which was a real surprise because it contains such gems as “The Hag”. This is a subject which readers of my book Catacombs of the Damned will readily empathise with, but judge for yourself.

                                             The Hag is astride,
                                             This night for to ride;
                                             The Devil and she together:
                                             Through thick and through thin,
                                              Now out, and then in,
                                              Though ne’er so foul be the weather.

                                              A thorn or a burr
                                              She takes for a spur:
                                              With a lash of a bramble she rides now
                                              Through brakes and through briars
                                              O’er ditches and mires,
                                              She follows the spirit that guides now.

                                              No beast, for his food,
                                              Dares now range the wood;
                                              But hushed in his lair he lies lurking;
                                              While mischiefs, by these,
                                              On land and on seas,
                                              At noon of night are a-working.

                                             The storm will arise,
                                             And trouble the skies;
                                             This night, and more for the wonder
                                             The ghost from the tomb
                                             Affrighted shall come
                                             Called out by the clap of the thunder.


An interesting aside is that Herrick was the Vicar of a small Dartmoor village. So his poetry is surprising not only for its subject matter, but also because he lived in a time of rampant witchcraft and therefore might have taken considerable personal risk in penning such a poem.

In addition, for those who read my recent blog about "a monstrously evil man" it is quite possible that he knew Richard Cabell.  And, as a final thought, when next you are out on the moors during a wind swept winter night, study the depths of the Heavens as you might just see Herrick’s Hag, “The Devil and she together” riding the skies, silhouetted against the full moon in the traditional Halloween setting.

Herrick was indeed a surprising choice for a Vicar.



You can also read this article, and many others, at the Western Gazette website. Click here to follow me and be the first to know when I publish my next short story, article or book review.

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