Chapter C: Caecilivs Vindex

M. AIMILIVS VINDEX
SEX. VARIVS. MARVLLVS
Q. SOSIVS PRISCVS SENECIO VINDEX
L. VALERIVS COMINIVS VINDEX
SEX. OTACILIVS. M. F.
L. ATTIVS. VINDEX
MVSSIVS VINDEX
C. FVFIDIVS. C. F. VINDEX
LICINIVS FAVSTVS
LABERIA POMPEIANA CONIVX MACRINI VINDICIS
MANILIA LVCILLA CONIVX MARVLLI VINDICIS

After the Roman names there is evidently a gap of very many
centuries. Nobody will ever know now what was the history of the
relic during those dark ages, or how it came to have been
preserved in the family. My poor friend Vincey had, it will be
remembered, told me that his Roman ancestors finally settled in
Lombardy, and when Charlemagne invaded it, returned with him
across the Alps, and made their home in Brittany, whence they
crossed to England in the reign of Edward the Confessor. How he
knew this I am not aware, for there is no reference to Lombardy
or Charlemagne upon the tile, though, as will presently be seen,
there is a reference to Brittany. To continue: the next entries
on the sherd, if I may except a long splash either of blood or
red colouring matter of some sort, consist of two crosses drawn
in red pigment, and probably representing Crusaders’ swords, and
a rather neat monogram (“D. V.”) in scarlet and blue, perhaps
executed by that same Dorothea Vincey who wrote, or rather
painted, the doggrel couplet. To the left of this, inscribed in
faint blue, were the initials A. V., and after them a date, 1800.

Then came what was perhaps as curious an entry as anything upon
this extraordinary relic of the past. It is executed in black
letter, written over the crosses or Crusaders’ swords, and dated
fourteen hundred and forty-five. As the best plan will be to
allow it to speak for itself, I here give the black-letter
fac-simile, together with the original Latin without the
contractions, from which it will be seen that the writer was a
fair mediæval Latinist. Also we discovered what is still more
curious, an English version of the black-letter Latin. This, also
written in black letter, we found inscribed on a second parchment
that was in the coffer, apparently somewhat older in date than
that on which was inscribed the mediæval Latin translation of the
uncial Greek of which I shall speak presently. This I also give
in full.

_Fac-simile of Black-Letter Inscription on the Sherd of Amenartas._

“Iſta reliq̅ia eſt valde miſticu̅ et myrificu̅ op̅s q̅d maiores
mei ex Armorica ſſ Brittania mi̅ore ſecu̅ co̅veheba̅t et q̅dm
ſc̅s cleric̅s ſe̅per p̅ri meo in manu ferebat q̅d pe̅itus illvd
deſtrueret, affirma̅s q̅d eſſet ab ipſo ſathana co̅flatu̅
preſtigioſa et dyabolica arte q̅re p̅ter mevs co̅fregit illvd i̅
dvas p̅tes q̅s q̅dm ego Johs̅ de Vi̅ceto ſalvas ſervavi et
adaptavi ſicut ap̅paret die lu̅e p̅r̅ poſt feſt beate Mrie vir{g}
anni gr̅e mccccxlv.”

_Expanded Version of the above Black-Letter Inscription._

“Ista reliquia est valde misticum et myrificum opus, quod majores
mei ex Armorica, scilicet Britannia Minore, secum convehebant; et
et quidam sanctus clericus semper patri meo in manu ferebat quod
penitus illud destrueret, affirmans quod esset ab ipso Sathana
conflatum prestigiosa et dyabolica arte, quare pater meus
confregit illud in duas partes, quas quidem ego Johannes de
Vinceto salvas servavi et adaptavi sicut apparet die lune proximo
post festum beate Marie Virginis anni gratie MCCCCXLV.”

_Fac-simile of the Old English Black-Letter Translation of the
above Latin Inscription from the Sherd of Amenartas found
inscribed upon a parchment._

“Thys rellike ys a ryghte mistycall worke & a marvaylous yᵉ
whyche myne aunceteres afore tyme dyd conveigh hider wᵗ yᵐ ffrom
Armoryke whᵉ ys to ſeien Britaine yᵉ leſſe & a certayne holye
clerke ſhoulde allweyes beare my ffadir on honde yᵗ he owghte
uttirly ffor to ffruſſhe yᵉ ſame affyrmynge yᵗ yt was ffourmyd &
confflatyd off ſathanas hym ſelffe by arte magike & dyvellyſſhe
wherefore my ffadir dyd take yᵉ ſame & to braſt yt yn tweyne but
I John de Vincey dyd ſave whool yᵉ tweye p̄tes therof & topeecyd
yᵐ togydder agayne ſoe as yee ſe on y{s} daye mondaye next
ffolowynge after yᵉ ffeeste of ſeynte Marye yᵉ bleſſed vyrgyne yn
yᵉ yeere of ſalvacioun ffowertene hundreth & ffyve & ffowrti.”

_Modernised Version of the above Black-Letter Translation._

“Thys rellike ys a ryghte mistycall worke and a marvaylous, ye
whyche myne aunceteres aforetyme dyd conveigh hider with them
from Armoryke which ys to seien Britaine ye Lesse and a certayne
holye clerke should allweyes beare my fadir on honde that he
owghte uttirly for to frusshe ye same, affyrmynge that yt was
fourmed and conflatyed of Sathanas hym selfe by arte magike and
dyvellysshe wherefore my fadir dyd take ye same and tobrast yt yn
tweyne, but I, John de Vincey, dyd save whool ye tweye partes
therof and topeecyd them togydder agayne soe as yee se, on this
daye mondaye next followynge after ye feeste of Seynte Marye ye
Blessed Vyrgyne yn ye yeere of Salvacioun fowertene hundreth and
fyve and fowerti.”

The next and, save one, last entry was Elizabethan, and dated
1564. “A most strange historie, and one that did cost my father
his life; for in seekynge for the place upon the east coast of
Africa, his pinnance was sunk by a Portuguese galleon off Lorenzo
Marquez, and he himself perished.—John Vincey.”

Then came the last entry, apparently, to judge by the style of writing, made by some representative of the family in the middle of the eighteenth century. It was a misquotation of the well-known lines in Hamlet, and ran thus: “There are more things in Heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy, Horatio.”[3]

[3] Another thing that makes me fix the date of this entry at the middle of the eighteenth century is that, curiously enough, I have an acting copy of “Hamlet,” written about 1740, in which these two lines are misquoted almost exactly in the same way, and I have little doubt but that the Vincey who wrote them on the potsherd heard them so misquoted at that date. Of course, the lines really run:—

There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.—L. H. H.

And now there remained but one more document to be examined—namely, the ancient black-letter transcription into mediæval Latin of the uncial inscription on the sherd. As will be seen, this translation was executed and subscribed in the year 1495, by a certain “learned man,” Edmundus de Prato (Edmund Pratt) by name, licentiate in Canon Law, of Exeter College, Oxford, who had actually been a pupil of Grocyn, the first scholar who taught Greek in England.[4] No doubt, on the fame of this new learning reaching his ears, the Vincey of the day, perhaps that same John de Vincey who years before had saved the relic from destruction and made the black-letter entry on the sherd in 1445, hurried off to Oxford to see if perchance it might avail to dissolve the secret of the mysterious inscription. Nor was he disappointed, for the learned Edmundus was equal to the task. Indeed his rendering is so excellent an example of mediæval learning and latinity that, even at the risk of sating the learned reader with too many antiquities, I have made up my mind to give it in fac-simile, together with an expanded version for the benefit of those who find the contractions troublesome. The translation has several peculiarities on which this is not the place to dwell, but I would in passing call the attention of scholars to the passage “duxerunt autem nos ad reginam _advenaslasaniscoronantium_,” which strikes me as a delightful rendering of the original, “ἤγαγον δὲ ὡς βασίλειαν τὴν τῶν ξένους χύτραις στεφανούντων.”

[4] Grocyn, the instructor of Erasmus, studied Greek under Chalcondylas the Byzantine at Florence, and first lectured in the Hall of Exeter College, Oxford, in 1491.—Editor.

_mediæval Black-Letter Latin Translation of the Uncial Inscription on the Sherd of Amenartas_

Amenartas e gen. reg. Egyptii uxor Callicratis ſacerdot̅ Iſidis
qua̅ dei fove̅t demonia atte̅du̅t filiol’ ſuo Tiſiſtheni ia̅
moribu̅da ita ma̅dat: Effugi quo̅da̅ ex Egypto regna̅te Nectanebo
cu̅ patre tuo, p̃pter mei amore̅ pejerato. Fugie̅tes aute̅ v’ſus
Notu̅ trans mare et xxiiij me̅ſes p’r litora Libye v’ſus Orie̅te̅
errant̃ ubi eſt petra queda̅ m̃gna ſculpta inſtar Ethiop̃ capit̃,
deinde dies iiij ab oſt̃ flum̃ m̃gni eiecti p’tim ſubmerſi ſumus
p’tim morbo mortui ſum̃: in fine aute̅ a fer̃ ho̅i̅bs portabamur
p̃r palud̃ et vada. ubi aviu̅ m’titudo celu̅ obu̅brat dies x.
donec advenim̃ ad cavu̅ que̅da̅ monte̅, ubi olim m̃gna urbs erat,
caverne quoq̃ im̅e̅ſe: duxeru̅t aute̅ nos ad regina̅
Advenaſlaſaniſcorona̅tiu̅ que magic̃ utebat̃ et peritia omniu̅
rer̃ et ſalte̅ pulcrit̃ et vigore i̅ſe̅eſcibil’ erat. Hec m̃gno
patr̃ tui amore p̃culſa p’mu̅ q’de̅ ei con̅ubiu̅ michi morte̅
parabat. poſtea v’ro recuſa̅te Callicrate amore mei et timore
regine affecto nos p̃r magica̅ abduxit p’r vias horribil’ ubi eſt
puteus ille p̃fu̅dus, cuius iuxta aditu̅ iacebat ſenior̃
philoſophi cadaver, et adve̅ie̅tib̃ mo̅ſtravit flam̅a̅ Vite
erecta̅, i̅star columne voluta̅tis, voces emitte̅te̅ q̃ſi
tonitrus: tu̅c p̃r igne̅ i̅petu nociuo expers tra̅ſiit et ia̅
ipsa ſeſe formoſior viſa eſt.

Quib̃ fact̃ iuravit ſe patre̅ tuu̅ quoq̃ im̅ortale̅ oſte̅ſura̅
eſſe, ſi me prius occiſa regine co̅tuberniu̅ mallet; neq̃ eni̅
ipſa me occidere valuit, p̃pter noſtratu̅ m̃gica̅ cuius egomet
p̃tem habeo. Ille vero nichil huius geñ maluit, manib ante ocul̃
paſſis ne mulier̃ formoſitate̅ adſpiceret: poſtea eu̅ m̃gica
p̃cuſſit arte, at mortuu̅ efferebat i̅de cu̅ fletib̃ et vagitib̃,
me p̃r timore̅ expulit ad oſtiu̅ m̃gni flumiñ veliuoli porro in
nave in qua te peperi, uix poſt dies hvc Athenas invecta ſu̅. At
tu, O Tiſiſtheñ, ne q’d quoru̅ ma̅do nauci fac: neceſſe eni̅ eſt
muliere̅ exquirere ſi qva Vite myſteriu̅ i̅petres et vi̅dicare,
qua̅tu̅ in te eſt, patre̅ tuu̅ Callierat̃ in regine morte. Sin
timore ſue aliq̃ cavſa re̅ reli̅quis i̅fecta̅, hoc ipſu̅ oi̅b̃
poſter̃ ma̅do du̅ bonvs q̃s inveniatur qvi ignis lauacru̅ no̅
p̃rhorreſcet et p̃tentia digñ do̅i̅abit̃ ho̅i̅u̅.

Talia dico incredibilia q̃de̅ at min̅e ñcta de reb̃ michi
cognitis.

Hec Grece scripta Latine reddidit vir doctus Edm̅ds de Prato, in
Decretis Licenciatus e Coll. Exon: Oxon: doctiſſimi Grocyni
quondam e pupillis, Id. Apr. Aᵒ. Dn̅i. MCCCCLXXXXV°.

_Expanded Version of the above Mediæval Latin Translation_

Amenartas, e genere regio Egyptii, uxor Callicratis, sacerdotis
Isidis, quam dei fovent demonia attendunt, filiolo suo Tisistheni
jam moribunda ita mandat: Effugi quodam ex Egypto, regnante
Nectanebo, cum patre tuo, propter mei amorem pejerato. Fugientes
autem versus Notum trans mare, et viginti quatuor menses per
litora Libye versus Orientem errantes, ubi est petra quedam magna
sculpta instar Ethiopis capitis, deinde dies quatuor ab ostio
fluminis magni ejecti partim submersi sumus partim morbo mortui
sumus: in fine autem a feris hominibus portabamur per paludes et
vada, ubi avium multitudo celum obumbrat, dies decem, donec
advenimus ad cavum quendam montem, ubi olim magna urbs erat,
caverne quoque immense; duxerunt autem nos ad reginam
Advenaslasaniscoronantium, que magicâ utebatur et peritiá omnium
rerum, et saltem pulcritudine et vigore insenescibilis erat. Hec
magno patris tui amore perculsa, primum quidem ei connubium michi
mortem parabat; postea vero, recusante Callicrate, amore mei et
timore regine affecto, nos per magicam abduxit per vias
horribiles ubi est puteus ille profundus, cujus juxta aditum
jacebat senioris philosophi cadaver, et advenientibus monstravit
flammam Vite erectam, instar columne voluntantis, voces
emittentem quasi tonitrus: tunc per ignem impetu nocivo expers
transiit et jam ipsa sese formosior visa est.

Quibus factis juravit se patrem tuum quoque immortalem ostensuram
esse, si me prius occisa regine contubernium mallet; neque enim
ipsa me occidere valuit, propter nostratum magicam cujus egomet
partem habeo. Ille vero nichil hujus generis malebat, manibus
ante oculos passis, ne mulieris formositatem adspiceret: postea
illum magica percussit arte, at mortuum efferebat inde cum
fletibus et vagitibus, et me per timorem expulit ad ostium magni
fluminis, velivoli, porro in nave, in qua te peperi, vix post
dies huc Athenas vecta sum. At tu, O Tisisthenes, ne quid quorum
mando nauci fac: necesse enim est mulierem exquirere si qua Vite
mysterium impetres et vindicare, quautum in te est, patrem tuum
Callieratem in regine morte. Sin timore sue aliqua causa rem
reliquis infectam, hoc ipsum omnibus posteris mando, dum bonus
quis inveniatur qui ignis lavacrum non perhorrescet, et potentia
dignus dominabitur hominum.

Talia dico incredibilia quidem at minime ficta de rebus michi
cognitis.

Hec Grece scripta Latine reddidit vir doctus Edmundus de Prato,
in Descretis Licenciatus, e Collegio Exoniensi Oxoniensi
doctissimi Grocyni quondam e pupillis, Idibus Aprilis Anno Domini
MCCCCLXXXXV°.

“Well,” I said, when at length I had read out and carefully
examined these writings and paragraphs, at least those of them
that were still easily legible, “that is the conclusion of the
whole matter, Leo, and now you can form your own opinion on it. I
have already formed mine.”

“And what is it?” he asked, in his quick way.

“It is this. I believe that potsherd to be perfectly genuine, and
that, wonderful as it may seem, it has come down in your family
from since the fourth century before Christ. The entries
absolutely prove it, and therefore, however improbable it may
seem, it must be accepted. But there I stop. That your remote
ancestress, the Egyptian princess, or some scribe under her
direction, wrote that which we see on the sherd I have no doubt,
nor have I the slightest doubt but that her sufferings and the
loss of her husband had turned her head, and that she was not
right in her mind when she did write it.”

“How do you account for what my father saw and heard there?”
asked Leo.

“Coincidence. No doubt there are bluffs on the coast of Africa
that look something like a man’s head, and plenty of people who
speak bastard Arabic. Also, I believe that there are lots of
swamps. Another thing is, Leo, and I am sorry to say it, but I do
not believe that your poor father was quite right when he wrote
that letter. He had met with a great trouble, and also he had
allowed this story to prey on his imagination, and he was a very
imaginative man. Anyway, I believe that the whole thing is the
most unmitigated rubbish. I know that there are curious things
and forces in nature which we rarely meet with, and, when we do
meet them, cannot understand. But until I see it with my own
eyes, which I am not likely to, I never will believe that there
is any means of avoiding death, even for a time, or that there is
or was a white sorceress living in the heart of an African swamp.
It is bosh, my boy, all bosh!—What do you say, Job?”

“I say, sir, that it is a lie, and, if it is true, I hope Mr. Leo
won’t meddle with no such things, for no good can’t come of it.”

“Perhaps you are both right,” said Leo, very quietly. “I express
no opinion. But I say this. I am going to set the matter at rest
once and for all, and if you won’t come with me I will go by
myself.”

I looked at the young man, and saw that he meant what he said.
When Leo means what he says he always puts on a curious look
about the mouth. It has been a trick of his from a child. Now, as
a matter of fact, I had no intention of allowing Leo to go
anywhere by himself, for my own sake, if not for his. I was far
too attached to him for that. I am not a man of many ties or
affections. Circumstances have been against me in this respect,
and men and women shrink from me, or at least, I fancy that they
do, which comes to the same thing, thinking, perhaps, that my
somewhat forbidding exterior is a key to my character. Rather
than endure this, I have, to a great extent, secluded myself from
the world, and cut myself off from those opportunities which with
most men result in the formation of relations more or less
intimate. Therefore Leo was all the world to me—brother, child,
and friend—and until he wearied of me, where he went there I
should go too. But, of course, it would not do to let him see how
great a hold he had over me; so I cast about for some means
whereby I might let myself down easy.

“Yes, I shall go, Uncle; and if I don’t find the ‘rolling Pillar
of Life,’ at any rate I shall get some first-class shooting.”

Here was my opportunity, and I took it.

“Shooting?” I said. “Ah! yes; I never thought of that. It must be
a very wild stretch of country, and full of big game. I have
always wanted to kill a buffalo before I die. Do you know, my
boy, I don’t believe in the quest, but I do believe in big game,
and really on the whole, if, after thinking it over, you make up
your mind to go, I will take a holiday, and come with you.”

“Ah,” said Leo, “I thought that you would not lose such a chance.
But how about money? We shall want a good lot.”

“You need not trouble about that,” I answered. “There is all your
income that has been accumulating for years, and besides that I
have saved two-thirds of what your father left to me, as I
consider, in trust for you. There is plenty of cash.”

“Very well, then, we may as well stow these things away and go up
to town to see about our guns. By the way, Job, are you coming
too? It’s time you began to see the world.”

“Well, sir,” answered Job, stolidly, “I don’t hold much with
foreign parts, but if both you gentlemen are going you will want
somebody to look after you, and I am not the man to stop behind
after serving you for twenty years.”

“That’s right, Job,” said I. “You won’t find out anything
wonderful, but you will get some good shooting. And now look
here, both of you. I won’t have a word said to a living soul
about this nonsense,” and I pointed to the potsherd. “If it got
out, and anything happened to me, my next of kin would dispute my
will on the ground of insanity, and I should become the laughing
stock of Cambridge.”

That day three months we were on the ocean, bound for Zanzibar.