Medieval English Poetry
The Isle of Ladies
15th century, Middle English: 16th century manuscript copies at the British Library and Longleat House, Wiltshire, England.
Almost at once, the dead bird came back to life, preened itself and they all flew off, singing happily together.
A fifteenth century poem The Isle of Ladies is a long verse narrative of over two thousand lines, originally attributed to Geoffrey Chaucer and once called Chaucer’s Dream. But in the nineteenth century it was relegated to the Chaucer apocrypha and is now considered to have been composed by an anonymous poet nearer to the time that Sir Thomas Malory was writing his famous Le Morte d’Arthur.
Near the conclusion of the story told by this poem, a knight has returned to a strange island made of glass, but all the ladies who lived there are now dead. Their bodies, and that of the slain knight himself, are transported by his men, in a ship, back to the knight's land.
And past the see, and toke the land, and in newe hersses on a sannde...
– they crossed the sea, transferred the bodies onto new hearses on the shore and used them to carry the bodies to a city where it was the custom to bury kings. The corpses were laid in a nunnery where nightly vigils were kept to pray for them. Funeral orations were made, services held, and the bodies were laid out overnight so that prayers to the Holy Trinity might be said for their souls.
Morning came and a red sun rose into a crystal clear sky. A bird with blue and green plumage alighted upon the queen's hearse and sang unhindered for a while, until a sudden movement from a mourner caused it to fly up into a gap in a stained-glass window where it injured itself on some broken glass and fell dead onto a ledge. There it lay for an hour or more, until a small flock of birds alighted beside it and began to sing plaintively. One of them had in its beak a sprig of small leaves and it laid this green herb beside the head of the little corpse, arranging it carefully, then remained standing, mournfully, by the body. In less than half an hour the sprig began to bud, came out into a flower and went immediately to seed. One of the birds pecked at the seeds as though feeding, but instead, put one of the seeds into the lifeless beak. Almost at once, the dead bird came back to life, preened itself and they all flew off, singing happily together.
'When they had gone, the abbess gathered all the seeds, the leaves and the stalk, and found them to have a good perfume but an unfamiliar nature, more virtuous than most; whoever might use it in his need, she said – flower, leaf or grain – would be certain of healing. She laid a grain upon the hearse, beside the queen, and everybody watched as it sprouted, flowered and then ran to seed. The abbess uncovered the face of the dead queen, and all the people wept afresh in remembrance. But choosing some of the best new seeds, the abbess placed them one by one in the mouth of the dead queen, and these grains soon showed their power for very shortly afterwards, with a smiling countenance, the queen lifted herself into a sitting position and rose to greet her people, as she was accustomed to.
Then they turned their attention to the knight. The queen, who was by now fully recovered, asked for some grains to place in his mouth and within a short time he was alive and well. 'Thank you, doctor!' he laughed. Then the bells were rung, which brought everybody out onto the streets.