Text: Sir Fergus, Saint Ninian and Minstrel Jack

Text Note: In the relatively-unknown C14th poem on St. Ninian (c.1368), its anonymous poet mainly re-works the famous prose Life of Ninian by the C12th Northumbrian monk, Ailred of Rievaulx (who had served at the Scottish court of David I). However, our later poet also adds a few of his own stories, not least relating to the saint's cult in his own day. And in one of these stories, he mentions a Galloway knight's minstrel who, along with St. Ninian, heroically saves the day for his master in a Border-skirmish with the English. Reading between the lines, we can reconstruct an intriguing glimpse of a Medieval Scottish musician working for a powerful house of nobles.

"Sir Fergus, Saint Ninian and Minstrel Jack"
— excerpt from Ninian in Metcalfe, Legends of the Saints IV (Edinburgh: Blackwood, 1891:327-331)
(Translation Copyright © 2010 by Steve Sweeney-Turner)

Synopsis: Sir Fergus MacDowal of Galloway was a brave and Christian knight who was feared by his nefarious neighbours that lurked in the nether regions over The Border. Being frightfully cowardly chaps, the English plotted against that noble Gallovidian by recruiting a traitorous spy from his own ranks to betray him for cash, just like Judas. The spy soon reported back to his evil pay-masters on Sir Fergus's whereabouts, and a large host was raised in Carlisle to ambush him while he stayed overnight in a farm-town. However, since Sir Fergus was such a virtuous Christian knight, the famous local saint, Ninian of Whithorn, miraculously appeared to him with a warning of the approaching English evil. The goodly knight gathered what men he could at such short notice — a rather motley crew of only 20 or so men. But, fortunately, the odds were soon to be turned by almost equally-miraculously-musical means. Sir Fergus's minstrel, Jack, happened to be dozing in the woods that the English were stealthily approaching through, in the midst of a thick mist. Jack heard the English troops and, mistaking them in the mist for his master's men, blew a great welcoming blast on his trumpet (as you do). But the English, equally-blinded by the mist and assuming that this sound heralded the approach of Sir Fergus with a full cohort, panicked and scattered. At the same time, Jack's clarion-call gave the English position away to Sir Fergus, who easily picked them off in their confused state despite their greater numbers. So, thanks to the combined forces of St. Ninian and Minstrel Jack, the Scots won the day — along with some handy booty. To celebrate his profitable victory, Sir Fergus paid his holy and musical debt by restoring the choir-house in Ninian's church at Whithorn. And reading beyond the lines, it seems that Jack also enjoyed a right-royal musical reward...

Notes on this 2010 Edition: My source for the Scots text was a single, but almost self-sufficient section of the Ninian poem in W.M. Metcalfe's Legends of the Saints in the Scottish Dialect of the Fourteenth Century Vol.IV (Edinburgh: Blackwood, 1891:327-331). I also consulted Metcalfe's later edition with modernised orthography and updated notes in The Legends of SS. Ninian and Machor (Paisely: Alexander Gardner, 1904:65-68). Metcalfe's source was the only one even currently known to exist: an untitled C15th Scottish manuscript held at Cambridge University Library, catalogued as MS. Gg.II.6. The MS. contains no less than 50 anonymous C14th poems (possibly by more than one author), plus a Prologue, all of which Metcalfe published in full in his 1st edition. The full text of the Ninian poem runs from MS. ff.332a-347b (Metcalfe 1891:304-345; 1904:41-83). My text is based on Metcalfe's 1st, more literal edition, using my own modernisations. I have, however, ommitted a couple of words he hypothetically inserted within square brackets (which he also ommitted in his 2nd edition), and the 10-line numbering scheme is my own. Metcalfe's literal transcription expanded the vast majority of the MS.'s scribal contractions, with one exception ( n̅ ), which I've expanded here myself (generally as "ne"). All expansions, whether Metcalfe's or mine, are given here in italics.

The translation given above is my own. My aim was avoid interfering with either the grammatical word-order or common etymologies between Older Scots and English, except where absolutely necessary or preferable. One point of this was to retain as much of the Medieval feel of the original as possible — not least its poetic beat and tone, although a few syllables are necessarily lost and the semantics go a bit wobbly now and then, too. However, a brief pause for thought on the part of the reader should be all that's needed to restore any missing beats and unravel any obscure meanings. In reading through it yourself, you might find the online Dictionary of the Scots Language a handy companion.

Acknowledgements: I'd like to take this opportunity to thank Frank Bowles, Superintendent of the Manuscripts Reading Room at Cambridge University Library for his kind assistance in tracking down the current location of the manuscript, whose details have not yet been added to the library's online catalogue, but are at least currently still the same as Metcalfe gives.

A Musical Dating for the Metrical Life of Ninian?
or: Minstrel Jack Saves the Day (Again)!

Pinning down the historical details surrounding anonymous Medieval texts is often difficult. However, we can at least begin with the physical documents themselves. On palaeographic grounds, Metcalfe dates the manuscript containing the story to the C15th, while on linguistic grounds he dates the composition of the Ninian poem itself to "about the close of the fourteenth century" (1904:18). So far as I know, this basic theory hasn't yet been superceded. But following Metcalfe's 1st edition (1891), a minor debate did emerge over authorship, which served to throw up some possibilites for a more definite time-frame. In particular, an old theory was revived by George Neilson that the anyonymous author was none other than John Barbour, famous for his epic poem on The Bruce (Neilson, "John Barbour, John Trumpour, and a Legend of the Saints" in The Scottish Antiquary 43 1897:102-107). That would be handy, because Barbour's Bruce is conventionally dated (on internal evidence) to around 1375. So Neilson tries to work out a viable date for the Ninian poem by doing a blindingly-nit-picking comparative reading of the two, concluding that the Ninian poem followed the composition of The Bruce, which he effectively claims that it plagiarises key words and phrases from (1897:105-107). Although Neilson doesn't go so far as to suggest a concrete date, the inference is thus that Ninian was written after 1375. However, Metcalfe responded in his 2nd edition by convincingly demolishing Neilson's attribution of Ninian to Barbour in no uncertain terms (1904:18-22; 153-154). It's a convincing demolition-job not least because, as Metcalfe's re-reading reveals, the key words and phrases at stake are completely conventional and can be found in many other Medieval Scots texts whose authors are most definitely not Barbour, from both before and after him. In other words, Neilson couldn't see the wood for the trees, and ended up blinding himself with his own science. But, usefully, whacking Neilson's wobbly theory did result in Metcalfe tightening up his own. In particular, one intriguing aspect of the "Jack Trumpoure" section of Ninian lies in the fact that it purports to be a historical narrative (albeit with legendary components), and so it goes without saying that the poem can only have been written after the events it narrates. So let's consider the possibilities — not least because the dating of the whole of the Ninian poem therefore rests on the section that mentions a musical character described as a minstrel, a trumpeter, and an all-round jester (which is, after all, why we're here in the first place).

Ignoring the philological side of things (which Metcalfe pretty-much clears up anyway), the debate between Neilson and Metcalfe also wrestles with two significant pieces of internal evidence that the anonymous author gives in the opening and closing lines of the section we're dealing with — indeed, this forms a historical claim that frames the whole narrative:

Of Saint Ninian yet I you tell
a miracle that in my time befell... [815-816]

...This was done without lying,
when Sir Davie Bruce was king. [941-942]

Of course, on the first point, if the historical events in the story occurred during the lifetime of the author, then this doesn't help much if we don't know who the author was. And since Metcalfe rejects the Barbour attribution, his attention turns to the second point, that "This was done without lying, when Sir Davie Bruce was king". Now this is helpful, because "when Sir Davie Bruce was king" can only mean "at some time during the reign of David II", since David I was a Canmore rather than a Bruce (and there was no David III anyhow). Metcalfe gives David II's reign as 1329-1370, but the current consensus is 1329-1371, so we'll work with that. Anyhow, narrowing the time-frame down further, Metcalfe reads the closing "this was done" as directly referring back to the opening "miracle that in my time befell". Hence, we can gloss Metcalfe's interpretation of the opening and closing lines as a kind of interpolation —

This [miracle that in my time befell] was done without lying,
when Sir Davie Bruce was king.

— in other words, the historical events narrated in the poem happened at some point between 1329 and 1371. And since David II's reign appears to be written of the past tense, Metcalfe concludes that the poem itself could only have been written after 1371. Finally, applying some wise caution, he suggests an unspecified date of composition "about the close of the fourteenth century" (1904:18) — presumably, something along the lines of c.1390.

But Metcalfe's entire dating-hypothesis depends on his reading of what the poet means by one single, apparently unassuming word — "this". And on closer consideration, there is in fact no reason why "this was done" absolutely has to mean "when the event in the story happened". Actually, the poet could just as easily be referring to the poem itself (and in a fairly conventional Medieval way, at that) —

This [poem] was done without lying,
when Sir Davie Bruce was king.

— in other words, the poem was written at some point between 1329 and 1371, and no later. The problem of the poem's date would then flip around Metcalfe's earliest possible date of 1371, which would now become the latest possible date, and we'd be obliged to find a different earliest date to narrow the window down.

Of course, it still follows that the poem can only have been written after the historical events that it narrates. So, trying to pin them down will help us narrow the window of possibilities. And, fortunately, both Neilson and Metcalfe pick up on a handy piece of external historical evidence that also takes us closer to the specifically-musical side of things. Sir Fergus MacDowal's servant, Jack, who the poet tells us was a minstrel, a jester and a trumpeter, also apparently appears in a historical document from the court of David II, dated 5th Dec. in the 36th year of that monarch's reign (ie. 1365). In reading this, bear in mind that "Jack" is a common colloquial form of "John", and so we'd expect to find the latter form in your average, high-falootin' State document (especially one in Latin):

— ed. J.B. Paul, The Register of the Great Seal of Scotland Vol.1 (Edinburgh: Register House, 1882), p.64

My Latin may not be spot-on here, but that's certainly the rough idea — David II is officially confirming a gift of several lands (in Dumfries and Kirkcudbrightshire, outby Galloway), given by Sir Dougall McDowall to one John Trumpoure. Since there are no records of a nobleman of that name in the time and place, we can reasonably infer that John's a commoner being rewarded by his master for services rendered of one kind or another. This certainly fits the profile of our heroic minstrel in the poem, who so musically saves the day for one Sir Fergus MacDowal in a Border-skirmish with the English, thus profiting the Scottish knight's merry band to the tune of "great riches" (line 923).

Now, Neilson claims that the poem's "Sir Fergus" is otherwise untraceable during David II's reign, and that his name must therefore be an error for the knightly "Dougall" of the court document (Neilson 1897:103). However, Metcalfe retorts with a string of references to the contrary, saying that Fergus was simply Dougall's brother, and later became a monk at Holyrood in Edinburgh (Metcalfe 1904:19; 29; 150; 154; 157-158). And since it's generally not major heads of noble households that become monks, this would seem to imply that Fergus was the junior brother, with Dougall as the head of the family. That in turn would explain why it's Dougall rather than Fergus making the grant of land to Mr. Trumpoure for services rendered to the MacDowall family overall. But regardless of who Fergus and Dougall may have been, we still have a poem naming a "Jack Trumpoure" (in Scots) roughly contemporary a court document naming a "John Trumpoure" (in Latin), and with both "J. Trumpeters" being meritoriously associated with the powerful MacDowall family of the South-West. The interpretation of these two names as belonging to one and the same person is actually one of the few things that both Neilson and Metcalfe agree on. And I see no obvious reason against accepting the identification, either — in Medieval research, this is often about as solid an identification as it's possible to get (and many far grander theories about far more famous people have been founded on far less evidence). So let's at least give it a whirl — "Jack" and "John" are one and the same person, depending only on the common conventions of which language his heroic name gets trumpeted in.

So, assuming that both documents relate to the same person, 1365 becomes a date to work with. For services rendered to the MacDowall nobles, our heroic minstrel is not only being recognised by them and their milieu, but has also come to the attention of the king himself — and thus, presumably, at least some of the court (scribes and witnesses, if not sundry nobles, too). One way or another, in 1365, his reputation has just been extended beyond the merely local scene and onto the national stage, assuming it wasn't already. And this is precisely the kind of occasion that might prompt a literary or musical celebration of his deeds of one kind or another, perhaps even for the entertainment of king and court. After all, Jack's deeds include being the cause of a minor victory over the English, and in Medieval Scotland, that's always worth celebrating. However, we have to remember that the "Jack Trumpoure" section of the Ninian poem is only that — the poem as a whole is about Saint Ninian, and Jack's story only features incidentally as a historical detail. It's clear that, for the poet, the real hero is the saint, who miraculously appears to Sir Fergus and provides him with the initial warning about the English incursion. There's nothing about the poem to suggest that it was written as a court celebration of the minstrel, whether in 1365 or not. Everything points to the author of the Ninian poem as having been a church poet, not court poet. But at the same time, it's clear that Jack's story has already reached the poet by one means or another, whether from a now lost poem or song (court or otherwise), or simply by general reputation. And that reputation is certainly spreading with the official state recognition of his deeds in 1365 — at the very latest. It is probable that his reputation was developing prior to royal recognition, but unless (or until) more evidence turns up, there's no way of proving it. Overall, 1365 is the date we have to work with.

Hence, on the current evidence, I'd suggest 1365 as the earliest plausible moment for the composition of the Ninian poem, with the most likely actual date being after it. So, against Metcalfe's theory, we would have a time-frame for the composition of the poem that runs not from 1371-1399, but from 1365-1371. These are pleasingly-close dates indeed! And, taking a cautious average between them, we get the c.1368 that I'm proposing here as a new working hypothesis.

So, there we have a possible "musical" dating of the metrical life of Ninian. But that's the very least of the musical issues that its "Jack Trumpoure" story throws up. Apart from anything else, it beggars belief that Minstrel Jack wouldn't have been commissioned to celebrate his noble master's victory by writing a heroic song on the subject — a lost "Ballad of Sir Fergus", perhaps? And, no doubt, he'd have modestly mentioned his own heroic part in it all. And what can we infer from the fact that Jack seems to have been promoted from mere minstrel at a noble court to grand county herald in 1365? Yet another issue is the musical side of Sir Fergus himself, who nobly restores the choir-house at Whithorn, and then later retires to the less militaristic life of a monk — what might this say about the sources, or even the authorship, of the Ninian poem itself? At the very least, Fergus would have ended up working in church music in one way or another — a natural consequence of the average Medieval monk's daily routine. I'll start grappling with some of these issues in a later version of this essay. But for now, as ever, stay tuned... ;-)