PLAYS and other Christmas festivities continued throughout the reign of
James the First; and amongst others we find ‘Measure for Measure,’ and
the ‘Plaie of Errors,’ by Shaxberd—a new reading as to the spelling of
the name of our glorious bard—also ‘King Lear,’ and ‘Love’s Labour’s
Lost.’ Many of Fletcher’s plays likewise were first acted before the
court at Christmas.
Masks were performed almost yearly; and in one of them, the ‘Queen’s
Mask of Moors,’ the queen with eleven ladies of honour took parts. Ben
Jonson himself wrote several for the court, and Inigo Jones assisted
in the scenery and decorations. James performed one good act, by
inflicting a penalty of £10 on any one making use, in plays, shows, or
pageants, jestingly or profanely, of the Holy Name of God, or of our
Saviour, or of the Holy Ghost, or of the Trinity.
At the very commencement of this reign, John Hemynges and his company
received £53 for performing six interludes or plays; and on the 8th of
January, 1604, the queen and her ladies presented a mask, by Samuel
Daniell, called the ‘Vision of the Twelve Goddesses.’ In the following
year, Hemynges and his company received £60, for the same number of
plays, and £10 a play seems to have been the usual reward. At the
same time, the queen and her ladies performed Ben Jonson’s mask of
‘Blackness,’ being the first in which he was employed. It was got up
in a magnificent style, having cost the exchequer £3000. After the
performance, there was a banquet in the great-chamber, which was so
furiously assailed by the hungry guests, that the table and trestles
went down before one bit was touched.
There are some strange stories of scenes of excessive conviviality in
this reign, particularly during the visit of the Danish king, Christian
the Fourth, in 1606, when, on one occasion, during the personation of
the mask of ‘Solomon, and the Queen of Sheba’—the King of Denmark
being the Solomon of the night—the representative of the Queen of
Sheba had imprudently imbibed too much of the nectar that she was
to have offered to Solomon, and stumbling, distributed her classic
offerings of wine, jelly, and cakes, over his dress. He in his turn,
attempting to dance, found it necessary to fall, and cling to the
floor, until taken off to bed.
“_Cassio._ Is your Englishman so exquisite in his drinking?
_Iago._ Why, he drinks you with facility, your Dane dead drunk.”
Some ladies, representing Faith, Hope, Charity, Victory, and Peace, who
were assumed to have been the attendants of the Queen of Sheba, on her
celebrated visit, sympathised with their mistress, and were obliged,
with proper assistance to guide their tottering limbs, to retire for a
time in a state of maudlin sensibility.
From Gervase Markham’s account, in his ‘English Housewife,’ of a
moderate dinner of this time, we may somewhat judge of the prevalent
profusion:—The first course should consist of “sixteen full dishes;
that is, dishes of meat that are of substance, and not empty, or for
show—as thus, for example; first, a shield of brawn, with mustard;
secondly, a boyl’d capon; thirdly, a boyl’d piece of beef; fourthly,
a chine of beef, rosted; fifthly, a neat’s tongue, rosted; sixthly,
a pig, rosted; seventhly, chewets baked; eighthly, a goose, rosted;
ninthly, a swan, rosted; tenthly, a turkey, rosted; the eleventh,
a haunch of venison, rosted; the twelfth, a pasty of venison; the
thirteenth, a kid, with a pudding in the belly; the fourteenth, an
olive-pye; the fifteenth, a couple of capons; the sixteenth, a custard,
or dowsets. Now, to these full dishes may be added, sallets, fricases,
quelque choses, and devised paste, as many dishes more, which make the
full service no less than two and thirty dishes; which is as much as
can conveniently stand on one table, and in one mess. And after this
manner you may proportion both your second and third courses, holding
fulness on one half of the dishes, and show in the other; which will
be both frugal in the splendour, contentment to the guest, and much
pleasure and delight to the beholder.”
If this was a frugal—a sort of friendly—dinner, what must have been
a state one—of the Belgravian or East Indian class, for instance?
On Twelfth Night, 1606, the mask of ‘Hymen,’ by Ben Jonson, was
performed, in honour of the unfortunate marriage of Robert, Earl of
Essex, with Lady Frances, daughter of the Earl of Suffolk, afterwards
so well known as the vicious wife of the equally vicious favourite,
Somerset. In the following year was the mask of ‘Beauty,’ in which
the queen and her ladies took part; but, though intended for Twelfth
Night, it was not performed, for some reason, until Sunday, the 14th of
January, Sunday being by no means an unusual day for these festivities.
The following Christmas was dull and heavy, like the weather; still
there were plays at court.
On the 1st of January, 1611, Prince Henry, accompanied by twelve
other persons of rank, performed the mask of ‘Oberon,’ of which
the expenses were £1092 6_s._ 10_d._ , including £16 paid to Inigo
Jones, for his labour; it being the joint production of him and Ben
Jonson, and contained a variety of delicate music. It was performed
in the new and beautiful banquetting-house, at Whitehall. There were,
likewise, two other masks, by Ben Jonson and Inigo Jones, in the same
Christmas, which cost the queen £600. In one of them, called, ‘Love
freed from Ignorance and Folly’—the name of the other being ‘Love
Restored’—there were twelve she-fools introduced, dressed in coloured
taffeta, lined with fustian, who performed a dance, and received each
£1 for her trouble. In November, 1612, Prince Henry died; a prince
who, according to most accounts, was much loved, and from whose early
promise much was expected. Whether his father much mourned him seems
a doubtful question: it has been surmised that he was jealous of his
popularity. At all events the following Christmas was kept with the
usual festivities, and his daughter Elizabeth was affianced to the
Palatine.
On the 26th of December, 1613, the favourite, Somerset, was married
to the Countess of Essex, at Whitehall, in the presence of the King,
Queen, and Prince Charles, and many of the nobility, and several
entertainments were given in the course of the Christmas, to the
well-matched pair. On the 4th of January, they went to a grand
entertainment, at Merchant Tailors’ Hall, and, after supper, were
entertained with a wassail, two pleasant masks, and dancing. On Twelfth
Day the gentlemen of Gray’s Inn invited them to a mask—the ‘Mask of
Flowers’—but they did not consent willingly to this act, evidently
considering it a degradation, their repugnance having been overcome by
Lord Bacon. It appears to have been performed at the banquetting-house.
In 1616, Ben Jonson presented the well-known mask, called the ‘Mask of
Christmas,’ the principal characters being Christmas and his children,
Misrule, Carol, Minced-Pie, Gambol, Post and Pair, New Year’s Gift,
Mumming, Wassel, Offering, and Baby-Cake. Prince Charles performed, and
obtained great applause in his mask, called ‘The Vision of Delight, or
Prince’s Mask,’ represented on Twelfth Night, 1618, when the Muscovy
ambassadors were feasted at court, and a sum of £750 was issued for the
occasion. A mask of ladies had been prepared for the same Christmas,
and many rehearsals had taken place, but for some reason it was
forbidden by the king and queen; to the great disappointment of the
ladies, no doubt.
The Inns of Court continued their revels as in former reigns. Sir Simon
D’Ewes complains of some great irregularities at the Temple, in 1620,
and some subsequent years, arising from gambling and quarrelling.
In Christmas, 1622-3, the Society of the Middle Temple incurred the
displeasure of the king—who apparently cared little for any one but
himself—by a demonstration in favour of his amiable and talented
daughter, Elizabeth of Bohemia. The lieutenant of the Middle Temple had
thirty of the best gentlemen of the society to sup with him; during the
meal, he took a cup of wine in one hand, and his drawn sword in the
other, and drank a health to the distressed Lady Elizabeth, after which
he kissed his sword, and swore to live and die in her service, and then
passed the cup and sword round.
On the Twelfth Day in the same Christmas, a ludicrous scene occurred,
for at dead of night, the gentlemen of Gray’s Inn, in order to make an
end of their Christmas, shot off all the chambers they had borrowed
from the Tower, which were as many as filled four carts. The king, who,
as is well known, could not bear the sight of a naked sword, being
awakened with the noise, started out of bed, crying out, “Treason!
treason!” The city was in confusion, and the court in arms, the Earl
of Arundel running to the king’s bed-chamber, with his sword drawn, to
rescue his sovereign.
In 1607, there was a celebrated exhibition of the Christmas Prince,
at St. John’s College, Oxford, conducted with more than usual pomp. A
numerous court was appointed, and pageants and dramatic performances
were from time to time exhibited; the “Prince,” Mr. Thomas Tucker,
continuing in his office until Shrove Tuesday. There were some
disturbances, in consequence of the inability of many people to
find room, but probably not more than occur now occasionally at the
Commemoration. Sir John Finett, who was master of the ceremonies to
James the First and Charles the First, and who seems to have considered
the settlement of points of etiquette as the very essence of good
government, in his quaint publication, called ‘Philoxenis,’ gives
many curious particulars of disputes, in several years, both in this
reign and the following one, between the royal ambassadors; and claims
of precedence, and fanciful privileges on the part of themselves and
their wives; and of his own skill and finesse in arranging them, so as
in general to give satisfaction, and prevent the peace of Europe from
being disturbed, which, from his statement, but for his diplomatic
powers, would appear to have been inevitable, had one ambassador’s
wife got a back to her chair, while another only had an ottoman. On
New Year’s Night, for instance, the intended mask was obliged to be
postponed, in consequence of some scruple on these formal matters,
of the French ambassador, but Sir John happily overcame this before
Twelfth Day, when the mask was proceeded with, and the French,
Venetian, and Savoyard ambassadors were present. In the following year
the prince was a principal actor in the mask, and the French ambassador
took umbrage, because the Spanish ambassador was invited. This schism
was beyond Sir John Finett’s controul; a correspondence ensued, but
the French ambassador was recalled before his time had expired. Many
of the disputes remind one of the points of etiquette respecting the
old French court privilege of the tabouret—as to wearing a cocked hat
fore and aft, as it is called, or athwart the head—as to wearing a
hat always in a club-room, or in the House of Commons, if a member—as
to the number of yards to a peeress’ train—as to the feather in the
cap of a Highland chief or chieftain—as to the persons entitled to
wear long-tailed wigs, or short-tailed wigs, or wigs with a curly
tail—and many other equally important points. However, etiquette is
probably necessary for the good rule of society, and high and low have
their own regulations. We find, in the East, it is considered a highly
aristocratic privilege, on ceremonial occasions, that the palanquin
should be borne crossways, instead of lengthways, probably because
it has a greater chance of being in the way; but it is thought of so
much importance, that a few years since, Sri Sunkur Bharti, and Sidha
Lingayah Charanti, whoever those grandees might have been, contested
the point by appeal to the privy council.
The practice of giving New Year’s Gifts and Christmas Boxes remained as
before; the value of the gifts to the king having become quite a matter
of regulation. An earl, for instance, was to buy a new purse of about
5_s._ price, and put in it twenty pieces of 20_s._ value each, and go
to the presence chamber on New Year’s Day, about eight in the morning,
and give them to the lord chamberlain; then to go to the jewel house
for a ticket to receive 18_s._ 6_d._ as a gift, and give 6_d._ there
for a box for the ticket; then to go to Sir Wm. Veall’s office, and
receive the 18_s._ 6_d._; then to the jewel house again, and choose a
piece of plate of about thirty ounces weight, and mark it, and fetch
it away in the afternoon, give the gentleman that delivered it to him
40_s._ in gold, and to the box 2_s._ and to the porter 6_d._
On New Year’s Day, 1604, the young prince, then in his tenth year,
gave his father as his gift, a short Latin poem, in hexameter verse,
which no doubt delighted the king. In 1610, he gave his sister, for his
New Year’s Gift, a cabinet of ivory, wrought with silver; five years
before this, when she was eight years of age, she had received from
the corporation of Coventry a pair of fat oxen, as their gift at this
season; certainly a very substantial mark of respect, but a sort of
_bon-bon_ that would somewhat astonish the royal nursery at present.
The New Year’s Gifts, given by the Prince Palatine in 1612, when he
married the Princess Elizabeth, were of a sumptuous description, but
may be considered more in the light of marriage presents than New
Year’s Gifts. The jewels, he gave to his mistress alone, were valued at
£35,000, comprising a rich chain of diamonds, with pendant diamonds for
the ears; and two pearls scarcely to be equalled for size and beauty.
To each of her attendants he gave £100; and to her chief usher, £150;
to Mrs. Dudley, a chain of pearls and diamonds, worth £500; to Lord
and Lady Harrington, golden and gilt plate of the value of £2000; to
the prince, a rapier and pair of spurs set with diamonds; and handsome
presents to the king and queen. There was great splendour in dress at
this wedding; the Lady Wotton had a gown that cost £50 a yard; and
Lord Montacute spent £15,000 in apparel for his two daughters. Our
ladies (independent of jewels) would have some difficulty to match this
at present; but there was great extravagance of dress, in general,
in the course of this reign. Even Archie Armstrong, the well-known
court-jester, had, on the occasion of this marriage, a coat of crimson
velvet and gold lace, yellow worsted hose, and crimson garters.
As specimens of the gifts presented in private life, we find Sir
Francis Bacon sending to the lady and daughters of Sir M. Hicks some
carnation stockings, with a request that they would wear them for
his sake. This would be considered a strange sort of keepsake from a
gentleman to a lady at present; but, as the Queen of Spain, in the
former days of Spanish etiquette, was said to have no legs; so, from
the long dresses now worn, it does not appear to signify much, except
as a matter of personal convenience to themselves, whether our ladies
have legs or not.
Turkeys and capons were Christmas presents during this age, as the
former are still: Justice Greedy says,—
“...... I remember thy wife brought me,
Last New Year’s tide, a couple of fat turkeys.”
The goose was the more ancient dish than the turkey, which was not
introduced into England until the sixteenth century, and the goose is
still the favourite bird in Paris and other parts of France, as it also
is in the west and some other parts of England. Indeed the Norfolk
people may fairly be suspected of having introduced the turkey as the
Christmas bird, when we find that several tons weight of them are sent
to London from that county annually at this season, some individual
birds weighing at least a quarter of a hundred. In Spain patients used
to present their medical attendants with turkeys; so that men in large
practice had to establish a little trade in them. These turkeys were
driven by gipseys from parts of Old Castile, chiefly from Salamanca;
the march was about 400 miles, and lasted about half a year, so that
the birds left the farmer in the state of chickenhood, but arrived
almost at the maturity of turkeyhood on the journey.
There was a good deal of gambling at court during Christmas, in the
course of this reign, no one being admitted that brought less than
£300. In one night, Montgomery, who played the king’s money, won for
him £750, which he had for his trouble; Lord Monteagle lost for the
queen £400, and Sir Robert Cary for the prince, £300. The following
may give some notion of the manner of keeping Christmas, by an English
gentleman, at this time, as mentioned in Armin’s ‘Nest of Ninnies.’ “At
a Christmas time, when good logs furnish the hall fire, when brawne is
in season, and indeed all reveling is regarded, this gallant knight
kept open house for all commers, where beefe, beere, and bread was no
niggard. Amongst all the pleasures provided, a noyse of minstrells
and a Lincolnshire bagpipe was prepared; the minstrells for the great
chamber, the bagpipe for the hall; the minstrells to serve up the
knight’s meate, and the bagpipe for the common dauncing.”
The Christmas-block or Yule-log, above referred to, is of very ancient
date.
“Heap on more wood—the wind is chill;
But let it whistle as it will,
We’ll keep our Christmas merry still.”
A massive piece of wood was selected, frequently the rugged root of
a tree grotesquely marked, which was brought into the great hall or
kitchen, with rejoicing and merriment. The old Christmas gambol of
drawing Dun out of the mire—which is referred to as far back as the
‘Towneley Mysteries,’ “Bot if this draght be welle drawen Don is in the
myre,”—was probably connected originally with drawing in the Christmas
block.
“If thou art Dun we’ll draw thee from the mire,
Of this (save reverence) love, wherein thou stick’st
Up to the ears.”
A log of wood is brought in, which is called Dun the cart-horse, and is
supposed to stick in the mire. Some of the party then advance and try
to extricate him, but they require more assistance; this continues till
all are engaged, and Dun is at length drawn out, “I see I’m born still
to draw Dun out o’ th’ mire for you.” Much fun arises from the feigned
awkwardness of the revellers, and contrivances to drop the log on each
other’s toes. Herrick says—
“Come, bring with a noise,
My merrie merrie boyes,
The Christmas log to the firing;
While my good dame, she
Bids ye all be free,
And drinke to your heart’s desiring.
With the last yeere’s brand
Light the new block, and
For good success in his spending,
On your psalteries play,
That sweet luck may
Come while the log is a teending,“
Formerly, each of the family sat down on the log in turn, sang a Yule
song, and drank to a merry Christmas and happy New Year: after which
they had, as part of their feast, Yule dough, or Yule cakes, on which
were impressed the figure of the infant Jesus, and sometimes they were
made in the shape of a little image, studded with currants and baked,
and the bakers gave them as presents to their customers. Bowls of
frumenty, made from wheat cakes or creed wheat, boiled in milk, with
sugar and nutmeg, &c., also made part of the feast. Nor was the wassail
bowl, or the tankard of spiced ale, omitted, but formed a prominent
part of the entertainment; Christmas ale being generally of superlative
merit.
Horace brings out his log and his best wine, as some of his winter
comforts.
“Dissolve frigus, ligna super foco
Large reponens; atque benignius
Deprome quadrimum Sabina,
O Thaliarche merum diota,”
and in the same ode, refers to pastimes similar to some of ours at
Christmas,—
“Nunc et latentis proditor intimo
Gratus puellæ risus ab angulo,
Pignusque dereptum lacertis,
Aut digito male pertinaci.”
Christmas candles of large size, frequently presents from the
chandlers, were at the same time used in some places; and, when tired
of the sports, the party gathered round the log, and sang carols, or
told legendary tales. The Essex logs appear to have been in repute,
“We shall have some Essex logs yet to keep Christmas with,” says
a character in one of Middleton’s plays; and there were sometimes
services reserved to furnish these Christmas logs; as the cellarist of
St. Edmundsbury, for instance, held Hardwick under the Abbey, and was
bound annually to provide four Christmas stocks, each of eight feet
in length. The strangest log on record, however, is that mentioned by
Froissart, at a great feast held by the Count de Foix. After dinner he
went up into a gallery, to which there was an ascent of twenty-four
steps; it being cold, he complained that the fire was not large enough,
on which a person named Ernauton d’Espaign, having seen below several
asses laden with wood, went down and brought up-stairs on his back one
of the largest, with his load of wood, and threw him on the fire, feet
upwards, to the delight of the count and the astonishment of all; and
of the poor ass, no doubt, more than all.
A small portion of the log was to be carefully preserved to light that
of the following year; and on the last day of its being in use, which,
in some places, was on Candlemas Day, a small piece having been kept on
purpose, the custom was to—
“Kindle the Christmas brand, and then
Till sunne-set let it burne;
Which quencht, then lay it up agen,
Till Christmas next returne.
Part must be kept, wherewith to teend
The Christmas log next yeare;
And where ’tis safely kept, the fiend
Can do no mischiefe there.“
The Souche de Noël, in some places on the Continent, was very similar
to our log.
As to minstrels, the waits of Southwark, according to the Citizen in
the ‘Knight of the Burning Pestle,’ were as rare fellows as any in
England, and two shillings would bring them all o’er the water with a
vengeance, as if they were mad. In the commencement of the following
reign a character in a play by Shirley introduces the city waits in a
speech that, with one slight alteration, is applicable to the present
panic felt by many persons respecting the possibility of foreign
invasion: “We will have the city waites down with us, and a noise of
trumpets; we can have drums in the country, and the train-band, and
then let the [French] come an they dare.”
Burton, in his ‘Anatomy of Melancholy,’ mentions “The ordinary
recreations which we have in winter, and in most solitary times busie
our minds with, are _cardes_, _tables_, and _dice_, _shovelboard_,
_chesse-play_, the philosopher’s game, small trunkes, shuttle-cocke,
billiards, musicke, masks, singing, dancing, ulegames, frolicks,
jests, riddles, catches, purposes, questions and commands, merry tales
of errant knights, queenes, lovers, lords, ladies, giants, dwarfes,
theeves, cheaters, witches, fayries, goblins, friers,” &c.
After the accession of Charles the First, Christmas was frequently
observed with great splendour, and a variety of plays, masks, and
pageants, in which the king and queen, with some of the courtiers,
occasionally took part, until about the year 1641, when the civil
disturbances interfered with all social enjoyments, and the spirit
of fanaticism even endeavoured to abolish any commemoration of the
Nativity of our Saviour. The king had his mask on Twelfth Day, and the
queen hers on the Shrovetide following, and considerable sums were
granted for the expenses, often exceeding £2000.
The Christmas of 1632-3 was dull; the queen, having some little
infirmity, the bile or some such thing, kept in, and there was but
one play and no dancing; the gambling however remained as before, the
king carrying away £1850, of which the queen took half. On Twelfth
Night however she feasted the king at Somerset House, and presented a
pastoral, in which she herself took part, and which, with other masks,
cost considerably more than £2000.
In the following year there were no masks, but ‘Cymbeline’ was acted
before the court, and well liked. Prynne, in his ‘Histriomastix,’
having been supposed to reflect on the queen for her love of these
diversions, was severely punished, as is well known.
In the Christmas of 1641-2 only one play was acted, being on Twelfth
Day, at the cockpit in Whitehall; but the king and queen were in no
mood to be present, as the king on the previous day had paid his
eventful visit to the House of Commons to demand the five members:
and after this time he had matter of too much moment to engage his
attention to allow of any further indulgence in festivities or
amusement, thenceforth, alas! unknown to him. The struggle then
began on the part of the Puritans to abolish Christmas as a festival
altogether. The first ordinances to suppress the performance of plays
were issued in 1642, and doubt began to be expressed as to the proper
manner of keeping this feast: in Christmas 1643, some in the city
opened their shops, but they were shut again, people being afraid of
any popish observance, as they called it, of the day. On one occasion,
1644, Christmas Day was kept as a fast, as it fell on the last
Wednesday of the month, which was the day appointed by parliament for a
monthly fast, and it was ordered that this should not be an exception.
Ministers were prohibited from preaching God’s word on the Nativity,
and were imprisoned if they attempted to do so; and in 1647 the parish
officers of St. Margaret’s, Westminster, were committed and fined for
allowing some of them to preach on Christmas Day, and for adorning the
Church with rosemary and bays.
On the 3d of June in that year, the parliament abolished the observance
of Christmas and many other holidays, directing that, instead of them,
all scholars, apprentices, and servants should, with leave of their
masters, have a holiday on the second Tuesday in every month. On this
being proclaimed at Canterbury, just previous to the ensuing Christmas,
and the mayor directing a market to be kept on that day, a serious
disturbance took place, wherein many were severely hurt.
On the 24th of December, 1652, the observance of Christmas Day was
strongly prohibited, and several entries may be found in Evelyn’s
Memoirs, in that and subsequent years, to the effect that no service
was allowed in the churches on that day, so that it was kept at home
or privately by the right-minded, who occasionally got into difficulty
in consequence. Evelyn with his wife and others, while taking the
sacrament on Christmas Day, 1657, were taken into custody for breach
of the ordinance of the parliament, but were let off. In a satirical
list of supposed works called ‘Bibliotheca Parliamenti,’ 1653, is
‘An Act for the speedy suppressing all Plays, the Fools being all
turned Commanders or Parliament men.’ Even in the midst of fanaticism,
however, Christmas festivities could not be entirely abolished; and in
the ‘Vindication of Christmas,’ old Father Christmas, complaining of
his treatment for the last twelve years, says, “But welcome, or not
welcome, I am come;” and says his best welcome was with some Devonshire
farmers, thus describing his entertainment:—“After dinner we arose
from the boord, and sate by the fire, where the harth was imbrodered
all over with roasted apples, piping hot, expecting a bole of ale for
a cooler, which immediately was transformed into warm lambwool. After
which we discoursed merily, without either prophaness or obscenity;
some went to cards: others sang carols and pleasant songs (suitable to
the times); then the poor labouring hinds, and maid-servants, with the
plow-boys, went nimbly to dancing; the poor toyling wretches being glad
of my company, because they had little or no sport at all till I came
amongst them; and therefore they skipped and leaped for joy, singing a
carol to the tune of hey,
‘Let’s dance and sing, and make good chear,
For Christmas comes but once a year;
Draw hogsheads dry, let flagons fly,
For now the bells shall ring;
Whilst we endeavour to make good
The title ’gainst a king.’
Thus, at active games and gambols of hot cockles, shoeing the wild
mare, and the like harmless sports, some part of the tedious night was
spent; and early in the morning, I took my leave of them, promising
they should have my presence again the next 25th of December, 1653.“
Herrick, in his ‘New Year’s Gift’ sent to Sir Simeon Steward, sings—
“Of Christmas sports, the wassel boule,
That tost up after fox-i-th’-hole;
Of blind-man-buffe, and of the care
That young men have to shooe the mare;
Of Twelf-tide cakes, of pease and beanes,
Wherewith ye make those merry sceanes,
When as ye chuse your king and queen,
And cry out, ‘Hey for our town green.’”
The noblemen and gentry were, in the early part of the reign,
directed to return to their mansion-houses in the country, to keep up
hospitality during the Christmas; and many of them lived like petty
princes, their household establishments forming almost a mimic court.
The Christmas feast was kept up, the poor man’s heart was cheered by
earthly comforts, and he was led to the contemplation of the eternal
blessings bestowed on man at this tide. The great hall resounded with
the mirth of the servants, and tenants, and other dependents, whose
gambols amused the lord of the mansion, and his family, and friends;
and their presence and participation in the festivities, together with
the shows exhibited by them, of which the poorer class were frequently
allowed to be the amused spectators, encouraged them, and mitigated the
trials and privations of the winter.
A splendid Christmas, held by Richard Evelyn, Esq., High Sheriff of
Surrey and Sussex, in 1634, at Wotton, may be taken as an example. A
lord of Misrule was appointed; in this case, Owen Flood, gentleman,
trumpeter to Mr. Evelyn, was chosen, and regulations were made to
support his authority; amongst others, that if any man should kiss any
maid, widow, or wife, except to bid welcome or farewell, without his
lordship’s consent, he should have punishment as his lordship should
think convenient; it is to be presumed, however, that the misletoe
bough was a privileged place, a sort of kissing sanctuary. The hall
of the mansion being open on these occasions, many gifts were made to
assist in provisioning the guests, and, at this time, the contributions
were, two sides of venison, two half brawns, three pigs, ninety capons,
five geese, six turkeys, four rabbits, eight partridges, two pullets,
five sugar-loaves, half a pound of nutmegs, one basket of apples and
eggs, three baskets of apples, and two baskets of pears.
The Christmas festivities, at some of the colleges, and at the Inns of
Court, were continued in this reign. In 1627-8, there was a collision
between Mr. Palmer, lord of Misrule of the Temple, and the lord-mayor
and city authorities. The Temple lord chose to claim rents of 5_s._ a
piece from the houses in Ram Alley and Fleet Street, and broke open
doors to enforce it, if not quietly opened. The lord-mayor went with
his watch to meet him, and after some scuffle, Mr. Palmer was wounded
and taken prisoner, and sent to the Compter, and, after two nights, was
released, by the intercession of the attorney-general, on payment of
all damages, and restoring the rents.
In the ninth of Charles, the Inns of Court spent £2400 about their
Christmas celebration, and the king was so pleased with it, that he
asked 120 of the members to a mask at Whitehall, on the following
Shrove Tuesday.
There was also a splendid Christmas at the Middle Temple, in 1635,
when Mr. Francis Vivian, of Cornwall, who had been fined in the Star
Chamber, about three years before, in respect of a castle he held in
that county, was the Christmas Prince, and expended £2000 out of his
own pocket, beyond the allowance of the Society, in order to support
his state with sufficient dignity. He had his lord keeper, lord
treasurer, eight white staves, captain of pensioners and his guard,
and two chaplains, who, when they preached before him, saluted him on
ascending the pulpit with three low bows, as was then done to the king.
The lord-mayor and sheriffs supplied him with wine, and Lord Holland,
his justice in Eyre, with venison. These descriptions really make us
regret the cessation of such festivities.
In December, 1641, Evelyn was elected one of the comptrollers of the
Middle Temple revellers, the Christmas being kept with great solemnity;
but he got excused from serving. The most magnificent entertainment,
however, given by the Inns of Court, was on Candlemas Day, 1633—which
day was frequently distinguished by a farewell Christmas entertainment,
and the rule of the Christmas Prince extended to it—when the two
Temples, Lincoln’s Inn and Gray’s Inn, jointly presented Shirley’s
‘Triumph of Peace,’ at an expense to the Societies of more than
£20,000. The music, under the superintendence of William Lawes and
Simon Ives, cost £1000, and the dresses of the horsemen were valued at
£10,000. Whitelocke and Hyde were two of the principal managers, and
the former wrote for it his celebrated ‘Coranto.’ The king was so much
entertained, that he requested it to be performed again a few days
afterwards at Merchant Tailors’ Hall. Whether Gray’s Inn was more or
less inclined to play than the other Inns is not very material; but the
following order, in the fourth of Charles, may be taken either way,
“that all playing at dice, cards, or otherwise, in the hall, buttry, or
butler’s chamber, should be thenceforth barred, and forbidden at all
times of the year, the twenty days in Christmas only excepted.” The
Inner Temple, not to be outdone in propriety, ordered, in 1632, that no
play should be continued after twelve at night, not even on Christmas
Eve.
New Year’s Gifts were given as in former reigns; even little Jeffery
Hudson gave the queen in 1638, ‘The New Year’s Gift,’ written by
Microphilus, meaning himself. The Duke of Buckingham, who was
regardless of expense, appears to have given £20 to the celebrated
Archie, the king’s jester; and £13 6_s._ 8_d._ to the king’s fool,
meaning his other court fool, probably David Dromon. There is a story
told of Archie, who having fooled many was fooled himself; and perhaps
by this very nobleman. Archie went to him, or to the nobleman whoever
he was, to bid him good morrow on New Year’s Day, and received twenty
pieces of gold as his New Year’s Gift; but covetously desiring more,
shook them in his hand, and said they were too light. The donor said,
“I prithee, Archie, let me see them again, for there is one among
them I would be loth to part with.” Archie unsuspectingly returned
them, expecting them to be increased; but the nobleman put them in his
pocket, with this remark, “I once gave money into a fool’s hand, who
had not the wit to keep it.” The story of his having stolen a sheep,
and hid it in a cradle, has been mentioned before, but is probably
spurious.
This Archie, or Archibald Armstrong, may be considered as the last of
the regular or official court fools; for Killigrew, in the succeeding
reign, although a licensed wit, was of a higher class, both by birth
and education; and Pepys’s account of his having a fee for cap and
bells was apparently meant as a joke. The last play, in which the
regular fool was introduced, was probably, ‘The Woman Captain,’ by
Shadwell, 1680. Tarleton, in the preceding century, was a celebrated
performer in these characters.
A strange appendage this officer or attendant was to royal and noble
establishments; known even in oriental courts; and continued from the
time of the Anglo-Saxons, or perhaps of the ancient Britons, to the
time of which we are now writing. They often became such favourites
as to gain great influence with their royal and noble masters, and
frequently possessed more wit and discretion than the so-called or
self-called sages, who endeavoured to make them their laughing stock,
but whose attempts frequently flew back, like the boomerang, on their
own heads. They differed of course much in merit, from the fellow of
infinite jest to the mere practical joker, or the half-witted butt for
the gibes of others. Will Somers was a recognised favourite of the
capricious Henry the Eighth, and appears to have been a man of good
conduct; two or three portraits of him may be still seen among the
royal pictures at Hampton Court. It would be out of place to give any
anecdotes of these characters here, or we might begin with Goles, the
domestic fool of William the Conqueror, when Duke of Normandy, who
saved his master’s life by giving timely notice of a conspiracy; then
mentioning William Picolf, who held land from King John on performing
fool’s service; Martinot of Gascoigne, fool to Edward the First; Robert
le Foll, to Edward the Second; Ward, to Richard the Second, who, having
some personal resemblance to that king, was induced after his death to
personate him, for the purpose of an insurrection; Peche, in the time
of Henry the Seventh; Sexton, Somers, and Williams, in the time of
Henry the Eighth, the latter having been fool to Cardinal Wolsey, and
when recommended by him to the king, after his disgrace, the faithful
servant was obliged to be moved from his old master almost by force;
Chester, who seems to have been somewhat of an impertinent disposition,
in the time of Queen Elizabeth; with others that might be named, down
to Archie Armstrong, Davie Dromon, George Stone, and Dicky Pearce;
with a few words for Jane the female fool to Queen Mary; female fools,
however, being rare. There were also celebrated professional fools in
continental courts, as Moret, Bagot, Chichot, who was a man of courage,
and accompanied his master to the wars; Triboulet, fool to Francis the
First; and Mathurine, a female fool, who was with Henry the Fourth of
France when he was stabbed by Jean Chastel, and was the means of the
criminal being discovered.
Will Somers’s notion of cramming himself with salt beef, when on a
voyage, may be submitted to travellers for consideration. When he was
crossing to Boulogne with his master, Henry, the weather was rough,
and he was observed to eat salt beef greedily, and on the king asking
him the reason why he preferred salt meat when there was plenty of
fresh, he replied, “Don’t blame me for filling my stomach with salt
meat, because, if we are cast away, I know what a quantity of water
I shall have to drink after it.” These personages, however, did not
always enjoy their privileges without drawbacks, and were liable to
punishment, even to whipping. George Stone, in the time of James the
First, had a sound flogging for saying, when the Earl of Nottingham
went ambassador to Spain, that there went sixty fools into Spain,
besides my lord admiral and his two sons. Archie Armstrong, as is well
known, was sentenced to have his coat pulled over his head, discharged
the king’s service, and banished the court, for abuse of Archbishop
Laud, having given “great praise to God, but little _laud_ to the
devil.” It was not, however, of much consequence to him, for he was a
careful man, and by this time—
“Archee, by kings and princes grac’d of late,
Jested himself into a fair estate.”
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