The Copybook
Short passages for reading, drawn from history, legend, poetry and fiction.
Short passages for reading, drawn from history, legend, poetry and fiction.
Charles Dickens tells the story of King Henry II and the enchantingly beautiful Rosamund Clifford.
The story of Rosamund Clifford, mistress of a young Henry II, is one of the great romances of English literature. Disappointingly (or perhaps not, since it is a bitter tragedy) apart from the most essential facts it is a legend. The best one can do is to ask one of our great novelists, Charles Dickens, to let us down gently.
Richard I thought a veteran Crusader and conqueror of Saladin could handle a few French peasants.
Richard the ‘Lionheart’ is best remembered today as the King of England during the time of Robin Hood, an association made for us by Sir Walter Scott’s novel ‘Ivanhoe’. He was an inspiring general in the Third Crusade, courageous and ruthless, but his death was testimony to the caprices of Fortune.
Rudyard Kipling’s poem about St Wilfrid’s chaplain and an unusual Christmas congregation.
Kipling firmly believed that Christianity should embrace the animal kingdom, and this poem precedes a tale in which a seal plays a key role in the conversion of the South Saxons. That story and this poem are pure fiction, though Eddi (Eddius Stephanus, Stephen of Ripon) really was St Wilfrid’s chaplain.
The Northumbrian monk is duped into wasting one of his beautifully-crafted sermons on a row of dumb rocks.
This story about St Bede from the 13th century ‘Golden Legend’ (some five centuries after Bede died) is not attested in earlier sources, and Bede himself has taught us to be wary of taking such stories on trust. On the other hand, it is a very good story, and deserves to be retold.
William Windham MP was appalled at the idea of levying a tax on man’s best friend.
In 1796, a proposal went before Parliament to tax dogs, partly as a rebuke to rich sportsmen, and partly because it was felt that the poor were frittering away their income support on dog-food. Windham was not much bothered about the rich sportsmen, but he leapt to the defence of the poor man and his lurcher.