CHAPTER IV.

WHEN Henry the Eighth came to the throne the festivities at Christmas,

as well as those at other seasons, were kept with great splendour. He

was then young, of manly address, and tall handsome person, skilled

in martial exercises, of great bodily strength and activity, and

accomplished; fond of exhibiting his prowess; and, though naturally

overbearing, possessed some chivalrous qualities in the early part

of his reign, until freed from the advice of Wolsey, and spoiled

by flattery and adulation, and the unrestrained indulgence of his

passions; for, as the cardinal said of him in his dying state, “he

is a prince of most royal courage; rather than miss any part of his

will, he will endanger one half of his kingdom.” Had he not been

so unfortunate as to rule in what was then a despotic monarchy, he

might have passed through life as an impetuous, convivial, somewhat

overbearing person, rather keeping his family in fear, but not much

worse than characters we all now and then meet with in society, who

bully their wives, children, servants, and clerks, bluster at committee

meetings, and are somewhat troublesome members of clubs. As the case

was, however, he presents a memorable example of the effects of

uncontrolled selfishness, pride, and passion.

Plays, masques, pageants, and similar diversions were frequent and

splendid during this reign, or rather during the first half of it; for

after Henry became interested in the reformed religion, and encumbered

with the succession of his wives, and also grew unwieldy in shape, and

unfitted for personally partaking in their amusements, they gradually

fell off, both in magnificence and in frequency, till they nearly

ceased altogether. In his younger days he was generally a performer,

and a skilful one, in those pastimes; and numerous entries may be found

of payments of every description connected with Christmas—such as

for disguisings, lord of Misrule, New Year’s gifts, Christmas-boxes,

&c. In his first year he kept it at Richmond with great royalty, and

although there had not been time to arrange such a pageant or masque as

we shall find in after-times, yet the lord of Misrule, whose payment,

in the time of Henry the Seventh, never exceeded £6 13_s._ 4_d._, was

paid £8 6_s._ 8_d._, which was afterwards increased to £15 6_s._ 8_d._

The lord of Misrule, in the first and several of the following years,

was William Wynnesberry, who also appears in his father’s reign: other

persons named in this office are, Richard Pole, Edmund Travore, and

William Tolly.

Sir Walter Scott gives a humorous account (except to the sufferer) of

the ill usage of an apparitor, or macer, of the see of St. Andrew,

in 1547. He was sent with letters of excommunication against Lord

Borthwick, and, unluckily for him, chose the time when the inmates of

his castle were engaged in the revels of the Abbot of Unreason, as

this festive ruler was called in Scotland. The unfortunate apparitor

was of course looked on as an alien enemy, or an outlaw, or any other

terrible thing, and was immediately seized and well ducked; after which

he was compelled to eat the parchment letters of excommunication,

which had been previously steeped in a bowl of wine, and then to drink

off the wine. In the play of Sir John Oldcastle, a similar incident

is introduced, but the sumner of the Bishop of Rochester, who is the

sufferer there, and has to eat the waxen seal also, is told that “tough

wax is the purest of the honey.”

In 1545, Sir Thomas Cawarden, who died 1560, was appointed master of

the revels. In the same year payments were made to Robert Amadas,

for plate of gold stuff for the disguising, of £451 12_s._ 2_d._;

and to William Buttry, for silk for the same purpose, of £133 7_s._

5_d._; so that, taking the difference of value of money into account,

Henry began his reign with a determination to spare no expense in his

entertainments, and subsequently the charges were much increased. In

his second year the Christmas was kept at Richmond, and on the Twelfth

Day we have a specimen of the pageants afterwards so much in fashion,

though rather wild perhaps for our present tastes. This was devised

like a mountain, glittering, as if with gold, and set with stones, on

the top of which was a tree of gold, spreading out on every side with

roses and pomegranates; it was brought towards the king, when out

came a lady, dressed in cloth of gold, and the henchmen, or children

of honour, who were dressed in some disguise, and they danced a morris

before the king; after which they re-entered the mountain, which was

drawn back, and then the wassail or banquet was brought in, and so

ended the Christmas. These pageants must have been managed something

like the pantomime or melo-dramatic devices we see on our own stage,

and produced perhaps as much effect, taking into account the increase

of modern fancy and expectation in this respect.

[Illustration: James Stephanoff, del. Ashbee & Dangerfield, lith.

PAGEANT BEFORE HENRY THE EIGHTH.]

In his third year, at Greenwich, there was a magnificent Christmas,

with such abundance of viands for all comers of any honest behaviour,

as had been seldom seen; and the invention of the devisers of pageants

was taxed to the utmost, and dancing-masters were doubtless in request

for the rehearsals; the clever Mr. Flexmore would have been invaluable.

On New Year’s Night, there was erected in the hall, a castle, with

gates, towers, and dungeon, garnished with artillery, and other warlike

weapons of the most approved form; and in the front of it was written

its name, “_Le Fortresse dangerus_,” that is evidently, dangerous from

the ladies’ eyes, and not from the warlike preparations. For in this

castle were six fair ladies, no doubt selected for their grace and

beauty, all clothed in russet satin, laid over with leaves of gold, and

each hood knit with laces of blue silk and gold; and coifs and caps of

gold on their heads. From the abundance of gold on these occasions, we

could almost imagine that some “diggins” must have been known then.

Well, after this castle, with the golden damsels in it, had been drawn

about the hall, and the queen had seen it, (for Henry really was

attached to her for the first few years of his reign,) in came the king

with five select companions, dressed in coats, of which half was of

velvet satin, with spangles of gold, the other half of rich cloth of

gold, having on their heads caps of russet satin, embroidered with fine

gold bullion. These gallant knights vigorously assaulted the castle,

and the ladies seeing them so courageous, capitulated with them, and

yielded it up, after which they came down and danced together for some

time, when the ladies in their turn became the conquerors, and took

the knights into the castle, which suddenly vanished out of sight; by

which we must assume, not that they all vanished into the air, but that

they were drawn out of the hall as fast as the living, and probably

concealed machinery used for the purpose, could make away with them.

The sports of this Christmas, however, were not yet at an end; for on

the night of the Epiphany, the king and eleven chosen companions were

disguised after the manner of Italy, called a mask, a thing not before

seen in England; they were dressed in long and broad garments, wrought

with gold, and had visors and caps of gold; and after the banquet they

came in with six gentlemen, disguised in silk, bearing staff torches,

and desired the ladies to dance. Some of them were content to do so,

but others that knew the fashion of it refused, because it was a thing

not commonly seen, something like the hesitation shown when the waltz,

the polka, and other strange matters, were first introduced here, the

passion for which, after a little time, made up for the shyness with

which they were at first admitted into good society.

These pageants must have been gorgeous affairs, as far as dress and

decorations, but would hardly suit the present taste; the descriptions

here given will enable any one inclined (if any) to imitate them.

In the following year the Christmas was again kept at Greenwich, and

on Twelfth Day a mount was introduced, ornamented with flowers of silk,

and full of slips of broom, signifying Plantagenet; the branches being

made of green satin, and the flowers of flat gold of Damascus. On the

top was a goodly beacon giving light, round which sat the king and

five others, dressed in coats and caps of crimson velvet, spangled and

embroidered with gold. Four wodehouses (or wild men) drew the mount

towards the queen, and then the king and his companions descended

and danced; the mount then suddenly opened, and out came six ladies,

dressed in crimson satin, embroidered with gold and pearls, and with

French hoods on their heads, and they danced by themselves for a time;

after which the lords and ladies danced together; the ladies then

re-entered the mount, which was conveyed out of the hall, and then

there was a very sumptuous banquet.

These French hoods were probably a new fashion, and as fashions

travelled into the country but slow in those times, when there were

neither electric telegraphs, railroads, stagecoaches, newspapers,

magazines, nor penny, nor, indeed, any other postage, they do not seem

to have got into Cornwall much before the year 1550; for the wife of

one of the prisoners condemned to suffer for the riot at that time,

intending to go to beg his life, took so long to adjust her new French

hood to her taste, that her husband was hung before she arrived. It is

to be hoped that she was not taking this course of revenging Henry’s

injuries to the sex.

In the fifth year of this reign, Sir Harry Guildford, master of the

revels, immortalised his name by inventing an interlude, in which was a

moresco dance of six persons and two ladies.

In the sixth year, there was another grand Christmas; and on Twelfth

Night the pageant may be considered as a ballet of action, differing

from some of modern times, simply in this: that in ours professing

to mean something, the meaning cannot be discovered, while in these

there was no meaning at all. On New Year’s Night the king and the

Duke of Suffolk, his chivalrous brother-in-law, with two others,

dressed in mantles, hose, doublets, and coats of cloth of silver,

lined with blue velvet, the silver being pounsed, so that the velvet

might be seen through, led in four ladies in gowns, after the fashion

of Savoy, of blue velvet, lined with cloth of gold; and mantles like

tippets, knit together of silver; with bonnets of burnished gold. They

were accompanied by four torch-bearers, in white and blue satin. The

fanciful attire of the party pleased much, especially the queen, into

whose chamber they went and danced, after which they put off their

visors, and made themselves known, when the queen heartily thanked the

king for her goodly pastime, and kissed him; finding it necessary, in

these early times, probably to flatter his vanity, and keep him in good

humour.

On Twelfth Night we have the ballet, though what we should call now

of limited interest. The king and the queen came into the hall at

Greenwich, where this Christmas was kept, when suddenly a tent of

cloth of gold entered; before it stood four men-at-arms, armed at all

points, with swords in their hands, then, at the sound of trumpets,

four more came in, and a fierce, but bloodless, combat ensued, of four

to four; but before the victory could be awarded to either party,

suddenly (again) there came out of a place like a wood, eight wild men,

with ugly weapons and terrible visages, dressed in green moss made of

silk, green moss being the assumed substance of which wild men make

their apparel. These attacked the knights, but after a terrific combat

of eight to eight, were driven out of the hall by the knights, who

followed them. After these warlike representations the tent opened, and

six ladies and six lords, richly apparelled, came out and danced; after

which they again entered the tent, which was conveyed out of the hall;

and then the king and queen were served with a right sumptuous banquet,

which, indeed, formed an essential part of every entertainment.

There were payments made this Christmas to Leonard Friscobald of £247

12_s._ 7_d._, for velvets and silks for the disguising; and to Richard

Gybson, for certain apparel for the same, of £137 14_s._ 0½_d._; and,

in after years, we find other similar payments to this Gybson; so that

trade benefited by these amusements, which is a natural consequence.

In his seventh year Henry kept his Christmas at Eltham; and in the fine

old hall there, on Twelfth Night, a castle was introduced, having in

it ladies and knights dressed in braids of gold, with moving spangles,

silver and gilt, set in crimson satin, and not fastened; the ladies’

heads and bodies being after the fashion of Amsterdam. This castle was

attacked by certain vagrant knights, who were, however, repulsed after

a severe struggle. Dancing then of course took place; and afterwards a

banquet of 200 dishes, with great plenty to everybody.

In his eighth year, there was a grand Christmas at Greenwich; and on

Twelfth Night, the Queen of Scots also being a visitor, an artificial

garden was set up, called the Garden of Espérance. This had towers at

each corner, and was surmounted with gilt rails, and the banks were

all set with artificial flowers of silk and gold, the leaves being of

green satin, “so that they seemed very flowers.” In the middle was a

pillar of antique work, all gold, and set with pearls and stones, and

on the top an arch crowned with gold, within which stood a bush of red

and white roses of silk and gold, and a bush of pomegranates of like

materials. Of course there were knights and ladies, richly apparelled,

walking in this garden; there were indeed six of each, who came down

and danced, and were afterwards conveyed out of the hall in the garden,

and the entertainments concluded as usual with a great banquet. Our

friend Richard Gybson had £130 19_s._ 0½_d._ for divers things bought

by him for this disguising.

In the following year, in consequence of the prevalence of the sweating

sickness from July to December, there was no solemn Christmas kept at

Court; but in several following years it was kept much as before, and

it will be needless to multiply examples, especially as the pageants

were in general of a less marked description.

As, in nearly every year, there were payments made to sets of players,

the highest being in general £4 to the king’s old players, who are

distinguished from the king’s players, whose fee was usually but £3

6_s._ 8_d._, it seems that during the Christmas, on what may be called

the off-nights, there were some performances by them. The children also

of the king’s chapel gave their assistance, but their services were

estimated higher, as there are several payments of £6 13_s._ 4_d._ to

Mr. Cornish, for playing before the king with them.

In his tenth year, also, the gentlemen of the king’s chapel had £13

6_s._ 8_d._ for their good attendance in Christmas, and there are

similar charges in subsequent years.

In the eleventh year there was another mask, and Richard Gybson

received £207 5_s._ 1½_d._ for the revels called “a maskelyn” at New

Hall, or Beaulieu, in Essex.

In the fourteenth year the Christmas was kept at Eltham, where the

Cardinal made many reformations in the royal household, and all that

had no masters were sent away; in modern phrase, no followers were

allowed.

In the sixteenth year there were grand feats of arms, and an assault

made on a strong artificial fort at Greenwich, where the king and the

Duke of Suffolk distinguished themselves; the whole concluding with

masks and dancing.

In his seventeenth year—in consequence of the prevalence of the plague

according to historians, and partly perhaps because he was now maturing

his plans for the possession of Ann Boleyn (who would not yield to him,

as her sister Mary had done), and for the divorce of Queen Catherine,

though not effected until long afterwards—the king kept his Christmas

quietly at Eltham, whence it was called the still Christmas. Wolsey,

however, would not follow his master’s example, and kept a royal

Christmas at Richmond, with plays and disguisings, which gave much

offence to see him keep an open court, and the king a secret one.

In the following year, however, the king made up for this intermission

of revels, by keeping a solemn Christmas at Greenwich, with revels,

masks, disguisings, and banquets; and there were justs kept on the

30th of December, and also on the 3d of January, where 300 spears were

broken. Afterwards the king and fifteen others, in masking apparel,

took barge, and went to the Cardinal’s place, where was a great company

of lords and ladies at supper,—

“..........having heard by fame

Of this so noble and so fair assembly,

This night to meet here, they could do no less,

Out of the great respect they bear to beauty.”

The maskers danced, after which the ladies plucked away their visors,

so that they were all known; and the sports were concluded with a

great banquet. Previous to this time the Christmas festivities at

the Inns of Court had become celebrated, and as we shall find, in

subsequent reigns, surpassed those of the court in fancy, and wit, and

real splendour; nor is this a matter of surprise when we consider the

concentration of talent that must always exist in these communities,

some fresh from the universities, embued with classic lore, though

in the age of which we are now writing perhaps somewhat pedantic;

others, fraught with the accumulated knowledge of years, sharpened by

the continual collision with intellects as keen as their own; and few

perhaps are better able to appreciate true wit and humour than those

who seek it as a relief from deep and wearing mental labour, not that

all hard and plodding students can appreciate them, many are but what

we used to call at school, muzzes, _et præterea nihil_.

That the entertainments were somewhat stiff or pedantic was of the

spirit of the times, and yet there was a freedom in dancing “round

about the coal fire,” which would scarcely suit the present day,

though it would attract a considerable number of spectators to see

the barristers, dressed in their best, singing and dancing, before

the chancellor, judges, and benchers, and that on penalty of being

disbarred; a threat absolutely held out, in the time of James the

First, at Lincoln’s Inn, because they did not dance on Candlemas Day,

according to the ancient order of the Society, and some were indeed put

out of commons by decimation. Imagine an unfortunate suitor inquiring

about a favourite counsel, who had his case at his fingers’ ends, and

being told he was disbarred, because he had refused to dance the night

before with his opponent’s counsel; the benchers not having taken into

consideration the difficulty of a little man, as he was, polking

with a fat barrister, gown, and wig, and all. Dugdale gives the

following programme of the performances at a date somewhat later than

that of which we are now speaking. “First, the solemn revells (after

dinner and the play ended,) are begun by the whole house, judges,

sergeants-at-law, benchers; the _utter and inner barr_; and they led

by the _master of the revels_; and one of the gentlemen of the utter

barr are chosen to sing a song to the judges, sergeants, or masters of

the bench; which is usually performed; and in default thereof there

may be an amerciament. Then the judges and benchers take their places,

and sit down at the upper end of the hall. Which done, the _utter

barristers_ and _inner barristers_ perform a second solemn revell

before them. Which ended, the _utter barristers_ take their places and

sit down. Some of the gentlemen of the _inner barr_ do present the

house with dancing, which is called the _post revels_, and continue

their dances till the judges or bench think meet to rise and depart.”

So that a barrister might be punished for not singing, as well as not

dancing. Whether he was obliged to sing carols, or might choose his own

song, such as, “Oh! brief is my joy,” “Ye shall walk in silk attire,

and siller ha’ to spend,” “Bid me discourse,” &c., does not appear on

record. Lincoln’s Inn celebrated Christmas as early as the time of

Henry the Sixth, but the Temple and Gray’s Inn afterwards disputed the

palm with it, and indeed the latter on some occasions seems to have

surpassed the other Inns of Court.

The first particular account of any regulations for conducting one of

these grand Christmasses, is in the ninth of Henry the Eighth, when,

besides the King for Christmas Day, the marshal, and master of the

revels, it is ordered that the King of the Cockneys on Christmas Day

should sit and have due service, and that he and all his officers

should use honest manner and good order, without any waste or

destruction making in wines, brawn, chely, or other vitails; and also

that he and his marshal, butler, and constable-marshal should have

their lawful and honest commandments by delivery of the officers of

Christmas; and that the said King of Cockneys nor none of his officers

meddle neither in the buttery nor in the steward of Christmas his

office, upon pain of forty shillings for every such meddling; and,

lastly, “that Jack Straw and all his adherents should be thenceforth

utterly banisht, and no more to be used in this house, upon pain to

forfeit, for every time, five pounds, to be levied on every fellow

hapning to offend against this rule.”

Who this Jack Straw was, and what his offences were, does not appear,

unless a kind of Wat Tyler against the peace and dignity of the King

of Cockneys. One of the leaders of Wat Tyler’s insurrection, indeed,

according to some accounts, the next in command, assumed the name of

Jack Straw, others being called Wyl Wawe, Jack Shepherd, Tom Miller,

and Hob Carter; besides the celebrated priest, John Ball, who began one

of his sermons on Blackheath with

“When Adam dolue and Evah span,

Who was then a gentle-man?”

But there was also a Jack Straw hung and quartered in the eighth of

Henry the Sixth.

In the eighteenth year of Henry, the Society of Gray’s Inn got into a

worse difficulty than paying allegiance to Jack Straw, and that, too,

in perfect innocence on their part; but they had a play or disguising,

which had been in great part devised by Serjeant John Roe twenty years

before. The plot was, that Lord Governance was ruled by Dissipation and

Negligence, by whose misgovernance and evil order, Lady Public-weal

was put from Governance, which caused _Rumor populi_, Inward grudge,

and Disdain of wanton sovreignetie to rise with a great multitude to

expel Negligence and Dissipation, and restore Public-weal again to

her estate. It was set forth with rich and costly apparel, with masks

and morescoes, and was highly praised. But the proud Wolsey, who was

then busying himself about the intended divorce, fancied it reflected

on him, and sent in a great fury for the unlucky serjeant, took his

coif from him, and sent him to the Fleet prison, together with one of

the actors, Thomas Moyle of Kent, who probably gained this unenviable

distinction by having excelled in the performance of the character

intrusted to him; all the actors were highly rebuked and threatened.

After a time the matter was satisfactorily explained, and the captive

revellers were liberated.

It was found prudent from time to time to make regulations in respect

to these revels, in order to limit the expenses, and, if possible, to

check the rivalry between the different societies, and they were not

therefore performed every year.

During the Christmas of 1529, Cardinal Wolsey, who had been disgraced

a short time before, was dangerously ill, which produced a short

return of favour with the selfish monarch, who became much worried

with his state, and also the unsettled position of his own domestic

arrangements; for although it was supposed that Ann Boleyn was in fact

living with him as his queen, yet no divorce had taken place from

Catherine, who had still a strong party in her favour, and excited

much sympathy. However, for the king’s recreation, a solemn Christmas

was kept at Greenwich, with justs, banquets, masks and disguisings,

attended by the two legates and many of the nobility; but the queen

gave them no manner of countenance, her mind being so troubled. In

the two following years she kept the Christmas with him, and there

were masks and interludes; but in his twenty-third year, at a solemn

Christmas at Greenwich, there was no mirth, the queen and her ladies

being absent—like Queen Vashti she refused to come, and no wonder,

for in a very few days after her royal estate was given unto another,

and Henry publicly married Anne Boleyn. After this time he does not

appear himself to have mixed in the Christmas festivities, though

yearly entries may be found of payments to players, for playing before

him, and sometimes to the gentlemen of the chapel, and the children as

before, with occasional notices of solemn Christmasses; but his temper

grew worse, and his zest for these amusements gradually less, as his

age and person increased.

In the Christmas of his twenty-ninth year, after the death of Queen

Jane in the previous October, he appeared in mourning apparel, which

was somewhat unnecessary, as he had made an offer, although an

unsuccessful one, to the Duchess Dowager of Longueville, within a month

after the death of his wife. His Twelfth Day, 1540, was rather unlucky

for him; although great rejoicings were going forward, as he then

married Anne of Cleves, from whom, as it is known, he was soon after

divorced.

Card playing and other games were still continued, and different

payments were made on this account; the king, one Christmas, having

as much as £212 10_s._ for this purpose. Payments were made also to

Princess Mary to disport her with at Christmas, generally £20, and in

her own private accounts are payments at Christmas, varying from £1

to £4, to have in her purse and to play at cards. The Lady Anne Boleyn

received as much as £100 at a time, towards her New Year’s Gift. The

Princess Mary, from her childhood, had an establishment of her own, and

was accustomed to these festivities before she had completed her sixth

year, having a lord of Misrule, John Thurgoode, one of the valets of

her household about this time; but the sanction of the great cardinal

was necessary even for her; and in 1525 there is an application by the

Council of her household to him, to know whether they may appoint a

lord of Misrule, and provide for interludes, disguisings, or plays,

and a banquet; and whether the princess was to send New Year’s Gifts

to the king and queen, and the French queen, and of what value. The

princess herself had received New Year’s Gifts as early as her third

year, when the cardinal gave her a cup of gold; the French queen, a

pomander; Lady Mountjoy, two smocks; a favourite gift by the bye,

as we shall hereafter see that Queen Elizabeth had many of these,

handsomely decorated, given to her. In after years we find at different

times gifts of the following nature given to the Princess Mary. Lady

Dorset and others gave her wrought smocks and handkerchiefs; her

brother the prince, a little tablet of gold; the Princess Elizabeth, a

little chain, and a pair of hose, wrought in gold and silk; the Lady

Margaret, a gown of carnation satin of the Venice fashion; Lady Butler,

a pepper-box, silver-gilt; the Earl of Hertford, a diamond ring; three

Venetians, a fair steel glass; Mr. Thomas Hobbs, yeoman of the robes, a

pair of silver snuffers; Mrs. Whelar, a pen and inkhorn, silver-gilt;

the Italian dancer, a partlet of gold, wrought; Lady Brown, a

fuming-box of silver; and the king’s master-cook, a marchpane; which

was the usual present of this functionary. All the servants who brought

these gifts had handsome presents in money in return, the king’s

messenger having as much as forty shillings given him. Besides money

gifts to her own household, and to the king’s minstrels and musicians,

among whom the harper had 5_s._, she gave others of value in various

Christmasses to distinguished persons; as, in 1543, a chair to the

king, of which the covering and embroidery cost £21 6_s._ 8_d._; also,

to the lord admiral, a brooch of gold, of the history of Moses striking

water out of the rock, and a balas set in the same; she herself having

a brooch of the history of Noah’s flood, set with little diamonds and

rubies; the king, and the queen for the time being, and the Prince

Edward, as we may imagine, also received gifts from his sisters; and

on one occasion the Lady Elizabeth gave him a cambric shirt of her own

working. In the present day it would probably have been a couvrette,

or an embroidered smoking cap, though he was rather young for that.

His times were innocent of this strange fashion, though they had quite

sufficient eccentricities of their own to answer for. It is a pity that

the recent act, compelling chimneys to consume their own smoke, does

not extend to smokers; it is almost worth while mooting the point,

whether it does or not.

The nobility kept the feast in manner similar to the court, making

allowance for difference of station. They had their lord of Misrule, or

master of the revels, and their minstrels, their players, with their

interludes and disguisings; the chaplain being frequently the maker

of the interludes; and most minute rules were laid down to regulate

the different payments and gifts. The Earl of Northumberland, whose

household book has been so often quoted in illustration of the manners

and customs of this age, used to give, when he was at home, to those of

his chapel, if they played the play of the Nativity on Christmas Day,

20_s._; and to his master of the revels, 20_s._; to the king’s servant,

bringing a New Year’s gift, he gave £5, or if a special friend of his

own, £6 13_s._ 4_d._; to the queen’s servant, £3 6_s._ 8_d._; but to

the servant (probably a domestic), bringing one from Lord Percy, only

12_d._; to his three minstrels, on New Year’s Day, for playing at the

chamber doors of the different members of the family £1 3_s._ 4_d._; to

his six trumpets, 20_s._; to his officer of arms, for crying largess,

20_s._; to the grooms of his chamber, to put in their box, 20_s._; to

the abbot of Misrule, 20_s._; to his chaplain for making an interlude,

the price seems to be 13_s._ 4_d._, rather moderate when compared with

the other gifts. Different presents also to various sets of players;

also 20_s._ each to the barne-bishops (boy-bishops) of Beverley and

York, showing that the custom still existed.

Traces of the boy-bishop may be found as far back as the

Constantinopolitan synod in 867, and as early as Edward the First’s

reign, one of them was permitted to sing vespers before him at Heton,

near Newcastle, in 1299, when on his way to Scotland, and received

forty shillings for himself and the boys who sang with him. In the

time of Edward the Second payments were made to this personage; and

Dean Colet, in his regulations for St. Paul’s School, 1512, directs

the scholars to go every Childermas Day to St. Paul’s to hear the

child-bishop’s sermon, and each to offer him a penny. Henry the Eighth,

however, put down the custom, which was revived by Queen Mary, but

finally abolished by Elizabeth.

The Earl of Northumberland’s three henchmen presented him with gloves,

and received 6_s._ 8_d._ in return; and his footmen also gave him

gloves, and received 3_s._ 4_d._ in reward. My lord and lady were

accustomed to make offerings at high mass on Christmas Day, New Year’s

Day, and Twelfth Day; but of rather small amount, his lordship’s being

12_d._ and her ladyship’s 8_d._ In lesser establishments there was, of

course, less state and smaller payments; and in the household accounts

of the Lestranges of Hunstanton, in the eleventh of Henry, is a payment

of 4_d._ to the Lord of Christmas, at Kyngstede. Different sums also

are charged for New Year’s gifts.

The lower classes still continued the customs of their forefathers, but

occasionally required some check, to prevent their revelries becoming

of too gross a description, and to amend abuses. In the third of Henry

the Eighth, people were forbidden to appear abroad like mummers, their

faces covered with vizors, and in disguised apparel. But it was by

no means the intention to debar them from proper recreations during

this season; many indulgences being afforded them, and their landlords

and masters assisted them with the means of enjoying their customary

festivities, listening to their legendary tales round the Yule-log, and

occasionally joining in their sports; a practice scarcely yet obsolete

in some parts of the country, and pity it should become so.

“A Christmas gambol oft’ would cheer

The poor man’s heart through half the year.”

In the thirty-third of Henry, when certain games were forbidden to

artificers, husbandmen, apprentices, servants, and others of that

class, they were still allowed to play at tables, tennis, dice, cards,

bowls, clash, coyting, and logating, at Christmas; though there is a

proclamation by the Sheriff of York, where the privilege is extended

beyond our ideas of liberality, as all manner of whores and thieves,

dice-players, carders, and all other unthrifty folk, were to be welcome

in the town, whether they came late or early, at the reverence of the

high feast of Yule, till the twelve days were passed. One fancies a

spice of irony in this invitation. Heywood, the epigrammatist, at a

little later date, used to say, that he did not like to play at king

and queen, but at Christmas, according to the old order of England;

and that few men played at cards, but at Christmas; and then almost

all, men and boys. Heywood evidently had not been initiated into any

of our whist clubs, or he would have found not a few who play at other

times than Christmas. And as to that time, there are still many houses

where cards are regularly produced on Christmas Day, a practice which,

certainly, to those unaccustomed to it, even the old order of England

will not qualify.

There is a story told of an ambitious shoemaker, whose Christmas coat

was spoiled, in the reign of Henry, by his seeking to imitate his

superiors; and this at a time when the distinction of apparel was

marked, and not as at present, when simplicity of dress is frequently

the best mark of a gentleman. Sir Philip Calthrop, having bought as

much fine French tawney cloth as would make him a gown, gave it to a

tailor, at Norwich, to make up, when John Drake, a shoemaker, passing

by, and admiring it, ordered one of the same materials and fashion.

Sir Philip, calling in on a subsequent day, and seeing a similar

gown-piece, asked for whom it was made, when he was told it was for a

shoemaker, and to be of the same fashion as his own: upon which, his

pride being touched, he ordered the tailor to make his gown as full of

cuts as his shears would make it. The tailor fulfilled his directions,

and performed the same operation for the gown of the unfortunate

shoemaker, who, by some accident, could not go to fetch it away until

Christmas morning, intending, no doubt, to astonish his wife and dazzle

his companions with his splendour. On seeing the havoc made in his

intended state dress, he began to cry out vehemently, but was told it

was made exactly like the knight’s; upon which he exclaimed, “By my

latchet, I will never wear gentleman’s fashion again.”

Payments were made by Henry the Eighth to waits, at Canterbury, as

they were by Henry the Seventh, as well as at other places. These,

however, were not at Christmas time, nor were they peculiar to

Christmas, but formed part of the musical establishments of the court

and the nobility. Originally, indeed, they do not seem of necessity

to have been of a musical class; or, at any rate, there were some who

were not so; as, in the time of Henry the Third, Simon le Wayte held

a virgate of land at Rockingham, in Northamptonshire, on the tenure

of being castle-wayte, or watch, and the same custom was observed in

other places. This Simon le Wayte fled for theft, and was not the only

suspected person of his craft: for, at the time the treasury exchequer

was broken open and robbed, in the time of Edward the First, Gilbertus

le Wayte, who was keeper of the watch, was very naturally taken up on

suspicion, but it does not appear what was done with him. After this

the wait seems to have been a musician, usually playing the pipe or

hautboy, who kept watch at night, and made _bon guet_ at the different

chamber doors, particularly at Christmas time; and Edward the Fourth

had one attached to his establishment for this purpose. In the old lay

of Richard Cœur-de-Lion, there is notice of—

“A wayte ther com in a kernel (_battlement_),

And a pypyd a moot in a flagel” (_flageolet_).

Among the minstrels in the household of Edward the Third, there were

three waits, who had 12_d._ a day in time of war, and only 20_s._ a

year in time of peace. Henry the Sixth also had one in his household,

and frequent mention is made of them from his time to the end of Henry

the Eighth, and in subsequent reigns. In Charles the First’s band, of

fifty-eight, there were twenty-five for the waits; and, as is well

known, they exist to the present time; the regular wait even exhibiting

his regular appointment and badge, with the portcullis, although waking

people at most irregular hours, and with most irregular tunes. The

City of London had its waits, who attended the Lord Mayor on public

occasions, such as Lord Mayor’s day, and on public feasts, and great

dinners. They are described as having blue gowns, red sleeves and caps,

every one having his silver collar about his neck. Several other towns

also had their own establishments of waits, and there are many entries

of payments made to them by our kings, and other great personages; as,

to the waits of Canterbury, before mentioned, those of Colchester—as

far back as Edward the Fourth—Dover, Coventry, Northampton, Newcastle,

&c.; and as they appear to have been on the watch to catch any great

person that came in their way, they would seem to have handed down this

part of their trade to the bell-ringers of the present age, part of

whose occupation appears to be to get paid for not ringing. One of the

old towers in Newcastle was formerly called the wait’s tower, and was

the place of their meeting. There is a tradition of their having played

to Oliver Cromwell, on his route to or from Scotland.

[Illustration]

Christmastide: Its History, Festivities, and Carols · 第 4 / 11 章