CHAPTER XI.

CUSTOMS CONNECTED WITH THE CALENDAR.

In years gone by the anniversaries connected with the calendar were kept

up with an amount of enthusiasm and merry-making quite unknown at the

present day. Thus, for instance, Shakespeare tells us, with regard to

the May-day observance, that it was looked forward to so eagerly as to

render it impossible to make the people sleep on this festive occasion.

During the present century the popular celebrations of the festivals

have been gradually on the decline, and nearly every year marks the

disuse of some local custom. Shakespeare has not omitted to give a good

many scattered allusions to the old superstitions and popular usages

associated with the festivals of the year, some of which still survive

in our midst.

Alluding to the revels, there can be no doubt that Shakespeare was

indebted to the revel-books for some of his plots. Thus, in "The

Tempest" (iv. 1), Prospero remarks to Ferdinand and Miranda, after Iris,

Ceres, and Juno have appeared, and the dance of the nymphs is over:

"You do look, my son, in a mov'd sort,

As if you were dismay'd; be cheerful, sir.

Our revels now are ended. These our actors,

As I foretold you, were all spirits, and

Are melted into air, into thin air:

And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,

The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces,

The solemn temples, the great globe itself,

Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,

And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,

Leave not a rack behind."

It has been inferred that Shakespeare was present at Kenilworth, in

1575, when Elizabeth was so grandly entertained there. Lakes and seas

are represented in the masque. Triton, in the likeness of a mermaid,

came towards the queen, says George Gascoigne, and "Arion appeared,

sitting on a dolphin's back." In the dialogue in "A Midsummer-Night's

Dream," between Oberon and Puck (ii. 1), there seems a direct allusion

to this event:

"_Oberon._ My gentle Puck, come hither. Thou remember'st

Since once I sat upon a promontory,

And heard a mermaid on a dolphin's back

Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath,

That the rude sea grew civil at her song,

And certain stars shot madly from their spheres,

To hear the sea-maid's music.

_Puck._ I remember."

Then, too, there were the "Children of the Revels," a company who

performed at Blackfriars Theatre. In "Hamlet" (ii. 2), Shakespeare

alludes to these "children-players."[639] Rosencrantz says, in the

conversation preceding the entry of the players, in reply to Hamlet's

inquiry whether the actors have suffered through the result of the late

inhibition, evidently referring to the plague, "Nay, their endeavour

keeps in the wonted pace; but there is, sir, an aery of children, little

eyases, that cry out on the top of question, and are most tyrannically

clapped for 't; these are now the fashion; and so berattle the common

stages--so they call them--that many wearing rapiers are afraid of

goose-quills, and dare scarce come thither."

[639] "The England of Shakespeare," E. Goadby, 1881, p. 153.

_Twelfth-Day._ There can be no doubt that the title of Shakespeare's

play, "Twelfth Night," took its origin in the festivities associated

with this festival. The season has, from time immemorial, been one of

merriment, "the more decided from being the proper close of the

festivities of Christmas, when games of chance were traditionally rife,

and the sport of sudden and casual elevation gave the tone of the time.

Of like tone is the play, and to this,"[640] says Mr. Lloyd, "it

apparently owes its title." The play, it appears, was probably

originally acted at the barristers' feast at the Middle Temple, on

February 2, 1601-2, as Manningham tells us in his "Diary" (Camden

Society, 1868, ed. J. Bruce, p. 18). It is worthy of note that the

festive doings of the Inns of Court, in days gone by, at Christmas-tide

were conducted on the most extravagant scale.[641] In addition to the

merry disports of the Lord of Misrule, there were various revels. The

Christmas masque at Gray's Inn, in 1594, was on a magnificent scale.

[640] "Critical Essays on the Plays of Shakespeare," 1875, p.

145; see Singer's "Shakespeare," vol. iii. pp. 347, 348.

[641] See "British Popular Customs," p. 473.

_St. Valentine's Day_ (Feb. 14). Whatever may be the historical origin

of this festival, whether heathen or Christian, there can be no doubt of

its antiquity. According to an old tradition, to which Chaucer refers,

birds choose their mates on this day; and hence, in "A Midsummer-Night's

Dream" (iv. 1), Theseus asks:

"Good morrow, friends. St. Valentine is past:

Begin these wood-birds but to couple now?"

From this notion, it has been suggested, arose the once popular practice

of choosing valentines, and also the common belief that the first two

single persons who meet in the morning of St. Valentine's day have a

great chance of becoming wed to each other. This superstition is alluded

to in Ophelia's song in "Hamlet" (iv. 5):

"To-morrow is Saint Valentine's day,

All in the morning betime,

And I a maid at your window,

To be your valentine."

There seems every probability that St. Valentine's day, with its many

customs, has come down to us from the Romans, but was fathered upon St.

Valentine in the earlier ages of the Church in order to Christianize

it.[642] In France St. Valentine's was a movable feast, celebrated on

the first Sunday in Lent, which was called the _jour des brandons_,

because the boys carried about lighted torches on that day.

[642] "Notes and Queries," 6th series, vol. i. p. 129.

_Shrove-Tuesday._ This day was formerly devoted to feasting and

merriment of every kind, but whence originated the custom of eating

pancakes is still a matter of uncertainty. The practice is alluded to in

"All's Well that Ends Well" (ii. 2), where the clown speaks of "a

pancake for Shrove-Tuesday."[643] In "Pericles" (ii. 1) they are termed

"flap-jacks," a term used by Taylor, the Water-Poet, in his "Jack-a-Lent

Workes" (1630, vol. i. p. 115): "Until at last by the skill of the cooke

it is transformed into the form of a flap-jack, which in our translation

is called a pancake." Shrovetide was, in times gone by, a season of such

mirth that _shroving_, or _to shrove_, signified to be merry. Hence, in

"2 Henry IV." (v. 3), Justice Silence says:

"Be merry, be merry, my wife has all;

For women are shrews, both short and tall;

'Tis merry in hall, when beards wag all,

And welcome merry shrove-tide.

Be merry, be merry."

[643] Cf. "As You Like It" (i. 2). Touchstone alludes to a

"certain knight, that swore by his honour they were good

pancakes."

It was a holiday and a day of license for apprentices, laboring persons,

and others.[644]

[644] See Hone's "Every Day Book," 1836, vol. i. p. 258; "Book

of Days," vol. i. p. 239; see, also, Dekker's "Seven Deadly

Sins," 1606, p. 35; "British Popular Customs," pp. 62-91.

_Lent._ This season was at one time marked by a custom now fallen into

disuse. A figure, made up of straw and cast-off clothes, was drawn or

carried through the streets amid much noise and merriment; after which

it was either burned, shot at, or thrown down a chimney. This image was

called a "Jack-a-Lent," and was, according to some, intended to

represent Judas Iscariot. It occurs twice in the "Merry Wives of

Windsor;" once merely as a jocular appellation (iii. 3), where Mrs. Page

says to Robin, "You little Jack-a-Lent, have you been true to us?" and

once (v. 5) as a butt, or object of satire and attack, Falstaff

remarking, "How wit may be made a Jack-a-Lent, when 'tis upon ill

employment!" It is alluded to by Ben Jonson in his "Tale of a Tub" (iv.

2):

"Thou cam'st but half a thing into the world,

And wast made up of patches, parings, shreds;

Thou, that when last thou wert put out of service,

Travell'd to Hamstead Heath on an Ash Wednesday,

Where thou didst stand six weeks the Jack of Lent,

For boys to hurl three throws a penny at thee,

To make thee a purse."

Elderton, in a ballad called "Lenton Stuff," in a MS. in the Ashmolean

Museum, thus concludes his account of Lent:[645]

"When Jakke a' Lent comes justlynge in,

With the hedpeece of a herynge,

And saythe, repent yowe of yower syn,

For shame, syrs, leve yowre swerynge:

And to Palme Sonday doethe he ryde,

With sprots and herryngs by his syde,

And makes an end of Lenton tyde!"[646]

[645] "Notes and Queries," 1st series, vol. xii. p. 297.

[646] See Nares's "Glossary," vol. i. p. 443; Brand's "Pop.

Antiq.," 1849, vol. i. p. 101. Taylor, the Water-Poet, has a

tract entitled "_Jack-a-Lent_, his Beginning and Entertainment,

with the mad Prankes of Gentlemen-Usher, Shrove Tuesday."

In the reign of Elizabeth butchers were strictly enjoined not to sell

fleshmeat in Lent, not with a religious view, but for the double

purpose[647] of diminishing the consumption of fleshmeat during that

period, and so making it more plentiful during the rest of the year, and

of encouraging the fisheries and augmenting the number of seamen.

Butchers, however, who had an interest at court frequently obtained a

dispensation to kill a certain number of beasts a week during Lent; of

which indulgence the wants of invalids, who could not subsist without

animal food, was made the pretence. It is to this practice that Cade

refers in "2 Henry VI." (iv. 3), where he tells Dick, the butcher of

Ashford: "Therefore, thus will I reward thee,--the Lent shall be as long

again as it is; and thou shalt have a license to kill for a hundred

lacking one."

[647] Singer's "Shakespeare," vol. vi. p. 219.

In "2 Henry IV." (ii. 4), Falstaff mentions an indictment against

Hostess Quickly, "for suffering flesh to be eaten in thy house, contrary

to the law; for the which I think thou wilt howl." Whereupon she

replies, "All victuallers do so: what's a joint of mutton or two in a

whole Lent?"

The sparing fare in olden days, during Lent, is indirectly referred to

by Rosencrantz in "Hamlet" (ii. 2): "To think, my lord, if you delight

not in man, what lenten entertainment the players shall receive." We may

compare, too, Maria's words in "Twelfth Night" (i. 5), where she speaks

of a good lenten answer, _i. e._, short.

By a scrap of proverbial rhyme quoted by Mercutio in "Romeo and Juliet"

(ii. 4), and the speech introducing it, it appears that a stale hare

might be used to make a pie in Lent; he says:

"No hare, sir: unless a hare, sir, in a lenten pie, that is

something stale and hoar ere it be spent.

An old hare hoar,

And an old hare hoar,

Is very good meat in Lent," etc.

_Scambling days._ The days so called were Mondays and Saturdays in Lent,

when no regular meals were provided, and our great families scambled.

There may possibly be an indirect allusion to this custom in "Henry V."

(v. 2), where Shakespeare makes King Henry say: "If ever thou beest

mine, Kate, as I have a saving faith within me tells me thou shalt, I

get thee with scambling." In the old household book of the fifth Earl of

Northumberland there is a particular section appointing the order of

service for these days, and so regulating the licentious contentions of

them. We may, also, compare another passage in the same play (i. 1),

where the Archbishop of Canterbury speaks of "the scambling and unquiet

time."

_Good Friday._ Beyond the bare allusion to this day, Shakespeare makes

no reference to the many observances formerly associated with it. In

"King John" (i. 1) he makes Philip the Bastard say to Lady

Faulconbridge:

"Madam, I was not old Sir Robert's son:

Sir Robert might have eat his part in me

Upon Good Friday, and ne'er broke his fast."

And, in "1 Henry IV." (i. 2), Poins inquires: "Jack, how agrees the

devil and thee about thy soul, that thou soldest him on Good Friday

last, for a cup of Madeira and a cold capon's leg?"

_Easter._ According to a popular superstition, it is considered unlucky

to omit wearing new clothes on Easter Day, to which Shakespeare no doubt

alludes in "Romeo and Juliet" (iii. 1), when he makes Mercutio ask

Benvolio whether he did "not fall out with a tailor for wearing his new

doublet before Easter." In East Yorkshire, on Easter Eve, young folks go

to the nearest market-town to buy some new article of dress or personal

adornment to wear for the first time on Easter Day, as otherwise they

believe that birds--notably rooks or "crakes"--will spoil their

clothes.[648] In "Poor Robin's Almanac" we are told:

"At Easter let your clothes be new,

Or else be sure you will it rue."

[648] "Notes and Queries," 4th series, vol. v. p. 595.

Some think that the custom of "clacking" at Easter--which is not quite

obsolete in some counties--is incidentally alluded to in "Measure for

Measure" (iii. 2) by Lucio: "his use was, to put a ducat in her

clack-dish."[649] The clack or clap dish was a wooden dish with a

movable cover, formerly carried by beggars, which they clacked and

clattered to show that it was empty. In this they received the alms.

Lepers and other paupers deemed infectious originally used it, that the

sound might give warning not to approach too near, and alms be given

without touching the person.

[649] See Singer's "Shakespeare," vol. i. p. 362; Nares's

"Glossary," vol. i. p. 164: Brand's "Pop. Antiq.," 1849, vol.

iii. p. 94.

A popular name for Easter Monday was Black Monday, so called, says

Stow, because "in the 34th of Edward III. (1360), the 14th of April, and

the morrow after Easter Day, King Edward, with his host, lay before the

city of Paris; which day was full dark of mist and hail, and so bitter

cold, that many men died on their horses' backs with the cold. Wherefore

unto this day it hath been call'd the Blacke Monday." Thus, in the

"Merchant of Venice" (ii. 5), Launcelot says, "it was not for nothing

that my nose fell a-bleeding on Black Monday last at six o'clock i' the

morning."

_St. David's Day_ (March 1). This day is observed by the Welsh in honor

of St. David, their patron saint, when, as a sign of their patriotism,

they wear a leek. Much doubt exists as to the origin of this custom.

According to the Welsh, it is because St. David ordered his Britons to

place leeks in their caps, that they might be distinguished from their

Saxon foes. Shakespeare introduces the custom into his play of "Henry

V." (iv. 7), where Fluellen, addressing the monarch, says:

"Your grandfather of famous memory, an't please your majesty,

and your great uncle Edward the Plack Prince of Wales, as I

have read in the chronicles, fought a most prave pattle here

in France.

_K. Henry._ They did, Fluellen.

_Flu._ Your majesty says very true: if your majesties is

remembered of it, the Welshmen did goot service in a garden

where leeks did grow, wearing leeks in their Monmouth caps;

which, your majesty know, to this hour is an honourable padge

of the service; and I do pelieve, your majesty takes no scorn

to wear the leek upon Saint Tavy's day."

It has been justly pointed out, however, that this allusion by Fluellen

to the Welsh having worn the leek in battle under the Black Prince is

not, as some writers suppose, wholly decisive of its having originated

in the fields of Cressy, but rather shows that when Shakespeare wrote

Welshmen wore leeks.[650] In the same play, too (iv. 1), the

well-remembered Fluellen's enforcement of Pistol to eat the leek he had

ridiculed further establishes the wearing as a usage. Pistol says:

"Tell him I'll knock his leek about his pate

Upon Saint Davy's day."

[650] See Hone's "Every Day Book," vol. i. p. 318; "British

Popular Customs," pp. 110-113.

In days gone by this day was observed by royalty; and in 1695 we read

how William III. wore a leek on St. David's Day, "presented to him by

his sergeant, Porter, who hath as perquisites all the wearing apparel

his majestie had on that day, even to his sword." It appears that

formerly, among other customs, a Welshman was burned in effigy upon "St.

Tavy's Day," an allusion to which occurs in "Poor Robin's Almanack" for

1757:

"But it would make a stranger laugh,

To see th' English hang poor Taff:

A pair of breeches and a coat,

Hat, shoes, and stockings, and what not,

Are stuffed with hay, to represent

The Cambrian hero thereby meant."

_St. Patrick's Day_ (March 17). Shakespeare, in "Hamlet" (i. 5), makes

the Danish prince swear by St. Patrick, on which Warburton remarks that

the whole northern world had their learning from Ireland.[651] As Mr.

Singer[652] observes, however, it is more probable that the poet seized

the first popular imprecation that came to his mind, without regarding

whether it suited the country or character of the person to whom he gave

it. Some, again, have supposed that there is a reference here to St.

Patrick's purgatory, but this does not seem probable.

[651] St. Patrick rids Ireland of snakes; see p. 257.

[652] Singer's "Shakespeare," 1870, vol. ix. p. 168.

_St. George's Day_ (April 23). St. George, the guardian saint of

England, is often alluded to by Shakespeare. His festival, which was

formerly celebrated by feasts of cities and corporations, is now almost

passed over without notice. Thus, Bedford, in "1 Henry VI." (i. 1),

speaks of keeping "our great Saint George's feast withal." "God and St.

George" was once a common battle-cry, several references to which occur

in Shakespeare's plays. Thus, in "Henry V." (iii. 1), the king says to

his soldiers:[653]

"Cry, God for Harry, England, and Saint George."

[653] Cf. "Henry V.," v. 2; "3 Henry VI.," ii. 1, 2; "Taming of

the Shrew," ii. 1; "Richard II.," i. 3.

Again, in "1 Henry VI." (iv. 2), Talbot says:

"God and Saint George, Talbot and England's right,

Prosper our colours in this dangerous fight!"

The following injunction, from an old act of war, concerning the use of

St. George's name in onsets, is curious: "Item, that all souldiers

entering into battaile, assault, skirmish, or other faction of armes,

shall have for their common crye and word, _St. George, forward_, or,

_Upon them, St. George_, whereby the souldier is much comforted, and the

enemie dismaied, by calling to minde the ancient valour of England, with

which that name has so often been victorious."[654]

[654] Cited by Warton in a note on "Richard III.," v. 3.

The combat of this saint on horseback with a dragon has been very long

established as a subject for sign-painting. In "King John" (ii. 1)

Philip says:

"Saint George, that swing'd the dragon, and e'er since

Sits on his horseback at mine hostess' door."

It is still a very favorite sign. In London alone[655] there are said to

be no less than sixty-six public-houses and taverns with the sign of St.

George and the Dragon, not counting beer-houses and coffee-houses.

[655] Hotten's "History of Sign-boards," 1866, 3d ed., p. 287.

_May Day._ The festival of May day has, from the earliest times, been

most popular in this country, on account of its association with the

joyous season of spring. It was formerly celebrated with far greater

enthusiasm than nowadays, for Bourne tells us how the young people were

in the habit of rising a little after midnight and walking to some

neighboring wood, accompanied with music and the blowing of horns, where

they broke down branches from the trees, which, decorated with nosegays

and garlands of flowers, were brought home soon after sunrise, and

placed at their doors and windows. Shakespeare, alluding to this

practice, informs us how eagerly it was looked forward to, and that it

was impossible to make the people sleep on May morning. Thus, in "Henry

VIII." (v. 4), it is said:

"Pray, sir, be patient: 'tis as much impossible--

Unless we sweep 'em from the door with cannons--

To scatter 'em, as 'tis to make 'em sleep

On May-day morning."

Again, in "A Midsummer-Night's Dream" (i. 1), Lysander, speaking of

these May-day observances, says to Hermia:

"If thou lov'st me, then,

Steal forth thy father's house to-morrow night;

And in the wood, a league without the town,

Where I did meet thee once with Helena,

To do observance to a morn of May,

There will I stay for thee."

And Theseus says (iv. 1):

"No doubt they rose up early to observe

The rite of May."[656]

[656] Cf. "Twelfth Night" (iii. 4): "More matter for a May morning."

In the "Two Noble Kinsmen" (ii. 3), one of the four countrymen asks: "Do

we all hold against the Maying?"

In Chaucer's "Court of Love" we read that early on May day "Fourth goth

al the Court, both most and lest, to fetche the flowris fresh and

blome." In the reign of Henry VIII. it is on record that the heads of

the corporation of London went out into the high grounds of Kent to

gather the May, and were met on Shooter's Hill by the king and his

queen, Katherine of Arragon, as they were coming from the palace of

Greenwich. Until within a comparatively recent period, this custom still

lingered in some of the counties. Thus, at Newcastle-upon-Tyne, the

following doggerel was sung:

"Rise up, maidens, fie for shame!

For I've been four long miles from hame,

I've been gathering my garlands gay,

Rise up, fair maidens, and take in your May."

Many of the ballads sung nowadays, in country places, by the village

children, on May morning, as they carry their garlands from door to

door, undoubtedly refer to the old practice of going a-Maying, although

fallen into disuse.

In olden times nearly every village had its May-pole, around which,

decorated with wreaths of flowers, ribbons, and flags, our merry

ancestors danced from morning till night. The earliest representation of

an English May-pole is that published in the "Variorum Shakespeare," and

depicted on a window at Betley, in Staffordshire, then the property of

Mr. Tollet, and which he was disposed to think as old as the time of

Henry VIII. The pole is planted in a mound of earth, and has affixed to

it St. George's red-cross banner and a white pennon or streamer with a

forked end. The shaft of the pole is painted in a diagonal line of black

colors upon a yellow ground, a characteristic decoration of all these

ancient May-poles, as alluded to by Shakespeare in "A Midsummer-Night's

Dream" (iii. 2), where it gives point to Hermia's allusion to her rival

Helena as "a painted May-pole."[657] The popularity of the May-pole in

former centuries is shown by the fact that one of our London parishes,

St. Andrew Undershaft, derives its name from the May-pole which overhung

its steeple, a reference to which we find made by Geoffrey Chaucer, who,

speaking of a vain boaster, says:

"Right well aloft, and high ye bear your head,

As ye would bear the great shaft of Cornhill."

[657] "Book of Days," vol. i. p. 575; see "British Popular

Customs," pp. 228-230, 249.

London, indeed, had several May-poles, one of which stood in Basing

Lane, near St. Paul's Cathedral. It was a large fir pole, forty feet

high and fifteen inches in diameter, and fabled to be the justing staff

of Gerard the Giant. Only a few, however, of the old May-poles remain

scattered here and there throughout the country. One still supports a

weathercock in the churchyard at Pendleton, Manchester; and in

Derbyshire, a few years ago, several were to be seen standing on some of

the village greens. The rhymes made use of as the people danced round

the May-pole varied according to the locality, and oftentimes combined a

curious mixture of the jocose and sacred.

Another feature of the May-day festivities was the morris-dance, the

principal characters of which generally were Robin Hood, Maid Marian,

Scarlet, Stokesley, Little John, the Hobby-horse, the Bavian or Fool,

Tom the Piper, with his pipe and tabor. The number of characters varied

much at different times and places. In "All's Well that Ends Well" (ii.

2), the clown says: "As fit as ten groats is for the hand of an attorney

... a morris for May-day."[658]

[658] See Brand's "Pop. Antiq.," vol. i. pp. 247-270; "Book of

Days," vol. i. pp. 630-633.

In "2 Henry VI." (iii. 1) the Duke of York says of Cade:

"I have seen

Him caper upright, like a wild Morisco,

Shaking the bloody darts, as he his bells."

In the "Two Noble Kinsmen" (iii. 5) Gerrold, the schoolmaster, thus

describes to King Theseus the morris-dance:

"If you but favour, our country pastime made is.

We are a few of those collected here,

That ruder tongues distinguish villagers;

And, to say verity and not to fable,

We are a merry rout, or else a rable,

Or company, or, by a figure, choris,

That 'fore thy dignity will dance a morris.

And I, that am the rectifier of all,

By title _Pædagogus_, that let fall

The birch upon the breeches of the small ones,

And humble with a ferula the tall ones,

Do here present this machine, or this frame:

And, dainty duke, whose doughty dismal fame,

From Dis to Dædalus, from post to pillar,

Is blown abroad, help me, thy poor well willer,

And, with thy twinkling eyes, look right and straight

Upon this mighty _morr_--of mickle weight--

_Is_--now comes in, which being glu'd together

Makes _morris_, and the cause that we came hether,

The body of our sport, of no small study.

I first appear, though rude, and raw, and muddy,

To speak, before thy noble grace, this tenner;

At whose great feet I offer up my penner:

The next, the Lord of May and Lady bright,

The chambermaid and serving-man, by night

That seek out silent hanging: then mine host

And his fat spouse, that welcomes to their cost

The galled traveller, and with a beck'ning,

Inform the tapster to inflame the reck'ning:

Then the beast-eating clown, and next the fool,

The bavian, with long tail and eke long tool;

_Cum multis aliis_ that make a dance:

Say 'Ay,' and all shall presently advance."

Among the scattered allusions to the characters of this dance may be

noticed that in "1 Henry IV." (iii. 3): "and for womanhood, Maid Marian

may be the deputy's wife of the ward to thee"--the allusion being to "the

degraded Maid Marian of the later morris-dance, more male than

female."[659]

[659] Nares's "Glossary," vol. ii. p. 550.

The "hobby-horse," another personage of the morris-dance on May day, was

occasionally omitted, and appears to have given rise to a popular

ballad, a line of which is given by "Hamlet" (iii. 2):

"For, O, for, O, the hobby-horse is forgot."

This is quoted again in "Love's Labour's Lost" (iii. 1). The hobby-horse

was formed by a pasteboard horse's head, and a light frame made of

wicker-work to join the hinder parts. This was fastened round the body

of a man, and covered with a foot-cloth which nearly reached the ground,

and concealed the legs of the performer, who displayed his antic

equestrian skill, and performed various juggling tricks, to the

amusement of the bystanders. In Sir Walter Scott's "Monastery" there is

a spirited description of the hobby-horse.

The term "hobby-horse" was applied to a loose woman, and in the

"Winter's Tale" (i. 2) it is so used by Leontes, who says to Camillo:

"Then say

My wife's a hobby-horse; deserves a name

As rank as any flax-wench, that puts to

Before her troth-plight."

In "Othello" (iv. 1), Bianca, speaking of Desdemona's handkerchief, says

to Cassio: "This is some minx's token, and I must take out the work!

There, give it your hobby-horse." It seems also to have denoted a silly

fellow, as in "Much Ado About Nothing" (iii. 2), where it is so used by

Benedick.

Another character was Friar Tuck, the chaplain of Robin Hood, and as

such is noticed in the "Two Gentlemen of Verona" (iv. 1), where one of

the outlaws swears:

"By the bare scalp of Robin Hood's fat friar."

He is also represented by Tollet as a Franciscan friar in the full

clerical tonsure, for, as he adds, "When the parish priests were

inhibited by the diocesan to assist in the May games, the Franciscans

might give attendance, as being exempted from episcopal

jurisdiction."[660]

[660] See Drake's "Shakespeare and his Times," 1817, vol. i. p. 163.

It was no uncommon occurrence for metrical interludes of a comic

species, and founded on the achievements of the outlaw Robin Hood, to be

performed after the morris, on the May-pole green. Mr. Drake thinks that

these interludes are alluded to in "Twelfth Night" (iii. 4), where

Fabian exclaims, on the approach of Sir Andrew Aguecheek with his

challenge, "More matter for a May morning."

_Whitsuntide._ Apart from its observance as a religious festival,

Whitsuntide was, in times past, celebrated with much ceremony. In the

Catholic times of England it was usual to dramatize the descent of the

Holy Ghost, which this festival commemorates--a custom which we find

alluded to in Barnaby Googe's translation of _Naogeorgus_:

"On Whit-Sunday white pigeons tame in strings from heaven flie,

And one that framed is of wood still hangeth in the skie,

Thou seest how they with idols play, and teach the people too:

None otherwise than little girls with puppets used to do."

This custom appears to have been carried to an extravagant height in

Spain, for Mr. Fosbroke[661] tells us that the gift of the Holy Ghost

was represented by "thunder from engines which did much damage." Water,

oak leaves, burning torches, wafers, and cakes were thrown down from the

church roof; pigeons and small birds, with cakes tied to their legs,

were let loose; and a long censer was swung up and down. In our own

country, many costly pageants were exhibited at this season. Thus, at

Chester, the Whitsun Mysteries were acted during the Monday, Tuesday,

and Wednesday in Whitsun week. The performers were carried from one

place to another by means of a scaffold--a huge and ponderous machine

mounted on wheels, gayly decorated with flags, and divided into two

compartments--the upper of which formed the stage, and the lower,

defended from vulgar curiosity by coarse canvas draperies, answered the

purposes of a green-room. To each craft in the city a separate mystery

was allotted. Thus, the drapers exhibited the "Creation," the tanners

took the "Fall of Lucifer," the water-carriers of the Dee acted the

"Deluge," etc. The production, too, of these pageants was extremely

costly; indeed, each one has been set down at fifteen or twenty pounds

sterling. An allusion to this custom is made in the "Two Gentlemen of

Verona" (iv. 4), where Julia says:

"At Pentecost,

When all our pageants of delight were play'd,

Our youth got me to play the woman's part,

And I was trimm'd in Madam Julia's gown."

[661] "Encyclopædia of Antiquities," 1843, vol. ii. p. 653.

The morris-dance, too, was formerly a common accompaniment to the

Whitsun ales, a practice which is still kept up in many parts of the

country. In "Henry V." (ii. 4), the Dauphin thus alludes to it:

"I say, 'tis meet we all go forth,

To view the sick and feeble parts of France:

And let us do it with no show of fear;

No, with no more than if we heard that England

Were busied with a Whitsun morris-dance."

And once more, in the "Winter's Tale" (iv. 4), Perdita says to Florizel:

"Methinks I play as I have seen them do

In Whitsun pastorals."

A custom formerly kept up in connection with Whitsuntide was the

"Whitsun ale." Ale was so prevalent a drink among us in olden times as

to become a part of the name of various festal meetings, as Leet ale,

Lamb ale, Bride ale (bridal), and, as we see, Whitsun ale. Thus our

ancestors were in the habit of holding parochial meetings every

Whitsuntide, usually in some barn near the church, consisting of a kind

of picnic, as each parishioner brought what victuals he could spare. The

ale, which had been brewed pretty strong for the occasion, was sold by

the churchwardens, and from its profits a fund arose for the repair of

the church.[662] These meetings are referred to by Shakespeare in

"Pericles" (i. 1):

"It hath been sung at festivals,

On ember-eves and holy-ales."

[662] See "British Popular Customs," p. 278; Brand's "Pop.

Antiq.," 1849, vol. i. p. 276.

In the "Two Gentlemen of Verona" (ii. 5), when Launce tells Speed, "thou

hast not so much charity in thee as to go to the ale with a Christian,"

these words have been explained to mean the rural festival so named,

though, as Mr. Dyce remarks ("Glossary," p. 10), the previous words of

Launce, "go with me to the ale-house," show this explanation to be

wrong.

In the old miracle-plays performed at this and other seasons Herod was a

favorite personage, and was generally represented as a tyrant of a very

overbearing, violent character. Thus Hamlet says (iii. 2): "O, it

offends me to the soul, to hear a robustious periwig-pated fellow tear a

passion to tatters, to very rags, to split the ears of the groundlings;

who, for the most part, are capable of nothing but inexplicable

dumb-shows and noise: I would have such a fellow whipped for o'er-doing

Termagant; it out-herods Herod." On this account Alexas mentions him as

the most daring character when he tells Cleopatra ("Antony and

Cleopatra," iii. 3):

"Good majesty,

Herod of Jewry dare not look upon you

But when you are well pleas'd."

In the "Merry Wives of Windsor" (ii. 1), Mrs. Page speaks of him in the

same signification: "What a Herod of Jewry is this!"

Mr. Dyce, in his "Glossary" (p. 207), has this note: "If the reader

wishes to know what a swaggering, uproarious tyrant Herod was

represented to be in those old dramatic performances, let him turn to

'Magnus Herodes' in 'The Towneley Mysteries,' p. 140, ed. Surtees

Society; to 'King Herod' in the 'Coventry Mysteries,' p. 188, ed.

Shakespeare Society; and to 'The Slaughter of the Innocents' in 'The

Chester Plays,' vol. i. p. 172, ed. Shakespeare Society."

Like Herod, Termagant[663] was a hectoring tyrant of the miracle-plays,

and as such is mentioned by Hamlet in the passage quoted above. Hence,

in course of time, the word was used as an adjective, in the sense of

violent, as in "1 Henry IV." (v. 4), "that hot termagant Scot." Hall

mentions him in his first satire:

"Nor fright the reader with the Pagan vaunt

Of mighty Mahound and great Termagaunt."

[663] According to the crusaders and the old romance writers a

Saracen deity. See Singer's "Shakespeare," vol. ix. p. 214.

While speaking of the old mysteries or miracle-plays we may also here

refer to the "moralities," a class of religious plays in which

allegorical personifications of the virtues and vices were introduced as

_dramatis personæ_. These personages at first only took part in the play

along with the Scriptural or legendary characters, but afterwards

entirely superseded them. They continued in fashion till the time of

Queen Elizabeth. Several allusions are given by Shakespeare to these

moral plays. Thus, in "Twelfth Night" (iv. 1), the clown sings:

"I am gone, sir,

And anon, sir,

I'll be with you again

In a trice,

Like to the old Vice,

Your need to sustain;

Who, with dagger of lath,

In his rage and his wrath,

Cries, Ah, ha! to the devil," etc.

Again, in "1 Henry IV." (ii. 4), Prince Henry speaks of "that reverend

Vice, that grey Iniquity;" and in "2 Henry IV." (iii. 2), Falstaff says,

"now is this Vice's dagger become a squire."

Again, further allusions occur in "Richard III." (iii. 1). Gloster says:

"Thus, like the formal Vice, Iniquity,

I moralize two meanings in one word."

And once more, Hamlet (iii. 4), speaks of "a Vice of kings," "a king of

shreds and patches."

According to Nares, "Vice" had the name sometimes of one vice, sometimes

of another, but most commonly of _Iniquity_, or Vice itself. He was

grotesquely dressed in a cap with ass's ears, a long coat, and a dagger

of lath. One of his chief employments was to make sport with the devil,

leaping on his back, and belaboring him with his dagger of lath, till he

made him roar. The devil, however, always carried him off in the end. He

was, in short, the buffoon of the morality, and was succeeded in his

office by the clown, whom we see in Shakespeare and others.[664]

[664] See Dyce's "Glossary," p. 482.

Again, there may be a further allusion to the moralities in "King Lear"

(ii. 2), where Kent says to Oswald, "take Vanity, the puppet's, part,

against the royalty of her father."

Then, too, there were the "pageants"--shows which were usually performed

in the highways of our towns, and assimilated in some degree to the

miracle-plays, but were of a more mixed character, being partly drawn

from profane history. According to Strutt, they were more frequent in

London, being required at stated periods, such as the setting of the

Midsummer Watch, and the Lord Mayor's Show.[665] Among the allusions to

these shows given by Shakespeare, we may quote one in "Richard III."

(iv. 4), where Queen Margaret speaks of

"The flattering index of a direful pageant"

--the pageants displayed on public occasions being generally preceded by

a brief account of the order in which the characters were to walk. These

indexes were distributed among the spectators, that they might

understand the meaning of such allegorical representations as were

usually exhibited. In the "Merchant of Venice" (i. 1), Salarino calls

argosies "the pageants of the sea," in allusion, says Douce,[666] "to

those enormous machines, in the shapes of castles, dragons, ships,

giants, etc., that were drawn about the streets in the ancient shows or

pageants, and which often constituted the most important part of them."

Again, in "As You Like It" (iii. 4), Corin says:

"If you will see a pageant truly play'd,

Between the pale complexion of true love

And the red glow of scorn and proud disdain,

Go hence a little, and I shall conduct you,

If you will mark it."

[665] "Sports and Pastimes," 1876, pp. 25-28; see Warton's

"History of English Poetry," vol. ii. p. 202.

[666] "Illustrations of Shakespeare," p. 154.

And in "Antony and Cleopatra" (iv. 14), Antony speaks of "black

vesper's pageants."

The nine worthies, originally comprising Joshua, David, Judas Maccabæus,

Hector, Alexander, Julius Cæsar, Arthur, Charlemagne, and Godfrey of

Bouillon, appear from a very early period to have been introduced

occasionally in the shows and pageants of our ancestors. Thus, in

"Love's Labour's Lost" (v. 2), the pageant of the nine worthies is

introduced. As Shakespeare, however, introduces Hercules and Pompey

among his presence of worthies, we may infer that the characters were

sometimes varied to suit the circumstances of the period, or the taste

of the auditory. A MS. preserved in the library of Trinity College,

Dublin, mentions the "Six Worthies" having been played before the Lord

Deputy Sussex in 1557.[667]

[667] Staunton's "Shakespeare," 1864, vol. i. pp. 147, 148.

Another feature of the Whitsun merry-makings were the Cotswold games,

which were generally on the Thursday in Whitsun week, in the vicinity of

Chipping Campden. They were instituted by an attorney of

Burton-on-the-Heath, in Warwickshire, named Robert Dover, and, like the

Olympic games of the ancients, consisted of most kinds of manly sports,

such as wrestling, leaping, pitching the bar, handling the pike,

dancing, and hunting. Ben Jonson, Drayton, and other poets of that age

wrote verses on this festivity, which, in 1636, were collected into one

volume, and published under the name of "Annalia Dubrensia."[668] In the

"Merry Wives of Windsor" (i. 1), Slender asks Page, "How does your

fallow greyhound, sir? I heard say, he was outrun on Cotsall." And in "2

Henry IV."[669] (iii. 2), Shallow, by distinguishing Will Squele as "a

Cotswold man," meant to imply that he was well versed in manly

exercises, and consequently of a daring spirit and athletic

constitution. A sheep was jocularly called a "Cotsold," or "Cotswold

lion," from the extensive pastures in that part of Gloucestershire.

[668] See "Book of Days," vol. i. p. 712.

[669] See Singer's "Shakespeare," vol. v. p. 206.

While speaking of Whitsuntide festivities, we may refer to the "roasted

Manningtree ox with the pudding in his belly," to which Prince Henry

alludes in "1 Henry IV." (ii. 4). It appears that Manningtree, in Essex,

formerly enjoyed the privilege of fairs, by the tenure of exhibiting a

certain number of Stage Plays yearly. There were, also, great

festivities there, and much good eating, at Whitsun ales and other

times. Hence, it seems that roasting an ox whole was not uncommon on

such occasions. The pudding spoken of by Prince Henry often accompanied

the ox, as we find in a ballad written in 1658:[670]

"Just so the people stare

At an ox in the fair

Roasted whole with a pudding in 's belly."

[670] See Nichol's "Collection of Poems," 1780, vol. iii. p. 204.

_Sheep-shearing Time_ commences as soon as the warm weather is so far

settled that the sheep may, without danger, lay aside their winter

clothing; the following tokens being laid down by Dyer, in his "Fleece"

(bk. i), to mark out the proper time:[671]

"If verdant elder spreads

Her silver flowers; if humble daisies yield

To yellow crowfoot and luxuriant grass

Gay shearing-time approaches."

[671] See Knight's "Life of Shakespeare," 1845, p. 71; Howitt's

"Pictorial Calendar of the Seasons," 1854, pp. 254-267.

Our ancestors, who took advantage of every natural holiday, to keep it

long and gladly, celebrated the time of sheep-shearing by a feast

exclusively rural. Drayton,[672] the countryman of Shakespeare, has

graphically described this festive scene, the Vale of Evesham being the

locality of the sheep-shearing which he has pictured so pleasantly:

"The shepherd king,

Whose flock hath chanc'd that year the earliest lamb to bring,

In his gay baldric sits at his low, grassy board,

With flawns, curds, clouted cream, and country dainties stored;

And whilst the bag-pipe plays, each lusty, jocund swain

Quaffs syllabubs in cans, to all upon the plain,

And to their country girls, whose nosegays they do wear;

Some roundelays do sing; the rest the burthen bear."

[672] "Polyolbion," song 14; see Brand's "Pop. Antiq.," 1849,

vol. ii. p. 34; Timbs's "A Garland for the Year," pp. 74, 75.

In the "Winter's Tale," one of the most delicious scenes (iv. 4) is that

of the sheep-shearing, in which we have the more poetical

"shepherd-queen." Mr. Furnivall,[673] in his introduction to this play,

justly remarks: "How happily it brings Shakespeare before us, mixing

with his Stratford neighbors at their sheep-shearing and country sports,

enjoying the vagabond pedler's gammon and talk, delighting in the sweet

Warwickshire maidens, and buying them 'fairings,' telling goblin stories

to the boys, 'There was a man dwelt in a churchyard,' opening his heart

afresh to all the innocent mirth, and the beauty of nature around him."

The expense attaching to these festivities appears to have afforded

matter of complaint. Thus, the clown asks, "What am I to buy for our

sheep-shearing feast?" and then proceeds to enumerate various things

which he will have to purchase. In Tusser's "Five Hundred Points of

Husbandry" this festival is described under "The Ploughman's

Feast-days:"

"Wife, make us a dinner, spare flesh neither corne,

Make wafers and cakes, for our sheep must be shorne;

At sheepe-shearing, neighbours none other things crave,

But good cheere and welcome like neighbours to have."

[673] Introduction to the "Leopold Shakespeare," p. xci.

_Midsummer Eve_ appears to have been regarded as a period when the

imagination ran riot, and many a curious superstition was associated

with this season. Thus, people gathered on this night the rose, St.

John's wort, vervain, trefoil, and rue, all of which were supposed to

have magical properties. They set the orpine in clay upon pieces of

slate or potsherd in their houses, calling it a "Midsummer man." As the

stalk was found next morning to incline to the right or left, the

anxious maiden knew whether her lover would prove true to her or not.

Young men sought, also, for pieces of coal, but, in reality, certain

hard, black, dead roots, often found under the living mugwort, designing

to place these under their pillows, that they might dream of

themselves.[674] It was also supposed that any person fasting on

Midsummer-eve, and sitting in the church-porch, would at midnight see

the spirits of those persons of that parish who would die that year come

and knock at the church-door, in the order and succession in which they

would die. Midsummer was formerly thought to be a season productive of

madness. Thus, Malvolio's strange conduct is described by Olivia in

"Twelfth Night" (iii. 4) as "A very midsummer madness." And, hence, "A

Midsummer-Night's Dream" is no inappropriate title for "the series of

wild incongruities of which the play consists."[675] The Low-Dutch have

a proverb that, when men have passed a troublesome night, and could not

sleep, "they have passed St. John Baptist's night"--that is, they have

not taken any sleep, but watched all night. Heywood seems to allude to a

similar notion when he says:

"As mad as a March hare: where madness compares,

Are not midsummer hares as mad as March hares?"

[674] "Book of Days," vol. i. p. 816; see Brand's "Pop.

Antiq.," vol. i. p. 314; Soane's "Book of the Months."

[675] See Brand's "Pop. Antiq.," 1849, vol. i. pp. 336, 337.

A proverbial phrase, too, to signify that a person was mad, was, "'Tis

midsummer moon with you"--hot weather being supposed to affect the brain.

_Dog-days._ A popular superstition--in all probability derived from the

Egyptians--referred to the rising and setting of Sirius, or the Dog-star,

as infusing madness into the canine race. Consequently, the name of

"Dog-days" was given by the Romans to the period between the 3d of July

and 11th of August, to which Shakespeare alludes in "Henry VIII." (v.

3), "the dog-days now reign." It is obvious that the notion is utterly

groundless, for not only does the star vary in its rising, but is later

and later every year. According to the Roman belief, "at the rising of

the Dog-star the seas boil, the wines ferment in the cellars, and

standing waters are set in motion; the dogs, also, go mad, and the

sturgeon is blasted." The term Dog-days is still a common phrase, and it

is difficult to say whether it is from superstitious adherence to old

custom or from a belief of the injurious effect of heat upon the canine

race that the magistrates, often unwisely, at this season of the year

order them to be muzzled or tied up.

_Lammas-day_ (August 1). According to some antiquarians, Lammas is a

corruption of loaf-mass, as our ancestors made an offering of bread from

new wheat on this day. Others derive it from lamb-mass, because the

tenants who held lands under the Cathedral Church of York were bound by

their tenure to bring a live lamb into the church at high mass.[676] It

appears to have been a popular day in times past, and is mentioned in

the following dialogue in "Romeo and Juliet" (i. 3), where the Nurse

inquires:

"How long is it now

To Lammas-tide?

_Lady Capulet._ A fortnight, and odd days.

_Nurse._ Even or odd, of all days in the year,

Come Lammas-eve at night, shall she be fourteen?"

[676] See "British Popular Customs," pp. 347-351.

In Neale's "Essays on Liturgiology" (2d. ed., p. 526), the Welsh

equivalent for Lammas-day is given as "dydd degwm wyn," lamb-tithing

day.

_St. Charity_ (August 1). This saint is found in the Martyrology on the

1st of August: "Romæ passio Sanctaram Virginum Fidei, Spei, et

Charitatis, quæ sub Hadriano principe martyriæ coronam adeptæ

sunt."[677] She is alluded to by Ophelia, in her song in "Hamlet" (iv.

5):

"By Gis,[678] and by Saint Charity,

Alack, and fie for shame!" etc.

[677] Douglas's "Criterion," p. 68, cited by Ritson; see

Douce's "Illustrations of Shakespeare," p. 475.

[678] This is, perhaps, a corrupt abbreviation of "By Jesus."

Some would read "By Cis," and understand by it "St. Cicely."

In the "Faire Maide of Bristowe" (1605) we find a similar allusion:

"Now, by Saint Charity, if I were judge,

A halter were the least should hamper him."

_St. Bartholomew's Day_ (August 24). The anniversary of this festival

was formerly signalized by the holding of the great Smithfield Fair, the

only real fair held within the city of London. One of the chief

attractions of Bartholomew Fair were roasted pigs. They were sold

"piping hot, in booths and on stalls, and ostentatiously displayed to

excite the appetite of passengers." Hence, a "Bartholomew pig" became a

popular subject of allusion. Falstaff, in "2 Henry IV." (ii. 4), in

coaxing ridicule of his enormous figure, is playfully called, by his

favorite Doll: "Thou whoreson little tidy Bartholomew boar-pig." Dr.

Johnson, however, thought that paste pigs were meant in this passage;

but this is improbable, as the true Bartholomew pigs were real roasted

pigs, as may be seen from Ben Jonson's play of "Bartholomew Fair" (i.

6), where Ursula, the pig-woman, is an important personage.[679] Gay,

too, speaks of the pig-dressers: "Like Bartholomew Fair pig-dressers,

who look like the dams, as well as the cooks, of what they roasted." A

further allusion to this season is found in "Henry V," (v. 2), where

Burgundy tells how "maids, well-summered and warm kept, are like flies

at Bartholomew-tide, blind, though they have their eyes; and then they

will endure handling, which before would not abide looking on."

[679] See Nares's "Glossary," vol. i. p. 57; Morley's "Memoirs

of Bartholomew Fair," 1859.

_Harvest Home._ The ceremonies which graced the ingathering of the

harvest in bygone times have gradually disappeared, and at the present

day only remnants of the old usages which once prevailed are still

preserved. Shakespeare, who has chronicled so many of our old customs,

and seems to have had a special delight in illustrating his writings

with these characteristics of our social life, has given several

interesting allusions to the observances which, in his day, graced the

harvest-field. Thus, in Warwickshire, the laborers, at their

harvest-home, appointed a judge to try misdemeanors committed during

harvest, and those who were sentenced to punishment were placed on a

bench and beaten with a pair of boots. Hence the ceremony was called

"giving them the boots." It has been suggested that this custom is

alluded to in the "Two Gentlemen of Verona" (i. 1), where Shakespeare

makes Proteus, parrying Valentine's raillery, say, "nay, give me not the

boots."

In Northamptonshire, when any one misconducted himself in the field

during harvest, he was subjected to a mock-trial at the harvest-home

feast, and condemned to be booted, a description of which we find in the

introduction to Clare's "Village Minstrel:" "A long form is placed in

the kitchen, upon which the boys who have worked well sit, as a terror

and disgrace to the rest, in a bent posture, with their hands laid on

each other's backs, forming a bridge for the 'hogs' (as the truant boys

are called) to pass over; while a strong chap stands on each side with a

boot-legging, soundly strapping them as they scuffle over the bridge,

which is done as fast as their ingenuity can carry them." Some, however,

think the allusion in the "Two Gentlemen of Verona" is to the diabolical

torture of the boot. Not a great while before this play was written, it

had been inflicted, says Douce,[680] in the presence of King James, on

one Dr. Fian, a supposed wizard, who was charged with raising the storms

that the king encountered in his return from Denmark. The unfortunate

man was afterwards burned. This horrible torture, we are told,[681]

consisted in the leg and knee of the criminal being enclosed within a

tight iron boot or case, wedges of iron being then driven in with a

mallet between the knee and the iron boot. Sir Walter Scott, in "Old

Mortality," has given a description of Macbriar undergoing this

punishment. At a later period "the boot" signified, according to

Nares,[682] an instrument for tightening the leg or hand, and was used

as a cure for the gout, and called a "bootikins." The phrase "to give

the boots" seems to have been a proverbial expression, signifying "Don't

make a laughing-stock of me; don't play upon me."

[680] "Illustrations of Shakespeare," p. 21.

[681] Dyce's "Glossary," p. 47; Douce has given a

representation of this instrument of torture from Milloeus's

"Praxis Criminis Persequendi," Paris, 1541.

[682] "Glossary," vol. i. p. 95.

In the "Merchant of Venice" (v. 1), where Lorenzo says:

"Come, ho! and wake Diana with a hymn:

With sweetest touches pierce your mistress' ear,

And draw her home with music,"

we have, doubtless, an allusion to the "Hock Cart" of the old

harvest-home. This was the cart which carried the last corn away from

the harvest-field,[683] and was generally profusely decorated, and

accompanied by music, old and young shouting at the top of their voices

a doggerel after the following fashion:

"We have ploughed, we have sowed,

We have reaped, we have mowed,

We have brought home every load,

Hip, hip, hip! harvest home."[684]

[683] Cf. "1 Henry IV." (i. 3):

"His chin, new reap'd,

Show'd like a stubble-land at harvest-home."

[684] See Brand's "Pop. Antiq.," 1849, vol. ii. pp. 16-33.

In "Poor Robin's Almanack" for August, 1676, we read:

"Hoacky is brought home with hallowing,

Boys with plumb-cake the cart following."

_Holyrood Day_ (September 14). This festival,[685] called also

Holy-Cross Day, was instituted by the Romish Church, on account of the

recovery of a large piece of the supposed cross by the Emperor

Heraclius, after it had been taken away, on the plundering of Jerusalem,

by Chosroes, king of Persia. Among the customs associated with this day

was one of going a-nutting, alluded to in the old play of "Grim, the

Collier of Croydon" (ii. 1):

"To morrow is Holy-rood day,

When all a-nutting take their way."

[685] See "British Popular Customs," pp. 372, 373. In

Lincolnshire this day is called "Hally-Loo Day."

Shakespeare mentions this festival in "1 Henry IV." (i. 1), where he

represents the Earl of Westmoreland relating how,

"On Holy-rood day, the gallant Hotspur there,

Young Harry Percy and brave Archibald,

That ever-valiant and approved Scot,

At Holmedon met."

_St. Lambert's Day_ (September 17). This saint, whose original name was

Landebert, but contracted into Lambert, was a native of Maestricht, in

the seventh century, and was assassinated early in the eighth.[686] His

festival is alluded to in "Richard II." (i. 1), where the king says:

"Be ready, as your lives shall answer it,

At Coventry, upon Saint Lambert's day."

[686] See Butler's "Lives of the Saints."

_Michaelmas_ (September 29). In the "Merry Wives of Windsor" (i. 1),

this festival is alluded to by Simple, who, in answer to Slender,

whether he had "the Book of riddles" about him, replies: "Why, did you

not lend it to Alice Shortcake upon All-hallowmas last, a fortnight

afore Michaelmas,"--this doubtless being an intended blunder.

In "1 Henry IV." (ii. 4), Francis says: "Let me see--about Michaelmas

next I shall be."

_St. Etheldreda_, or _Audry_, commemorated in the Romish Calendar on the

23d of June, but in the English Calendar on the 17th of October, was

daughter of Annas, King of the East Angles. She founded the convent and

church of Ely, on the spot where the cathedral was subsequently

erected. Formerly, at Ely, a fair was annually held, called in her

memory St. Audry's Fair, at which much cheap lace was sold to the poorer

classes, which at first went by the name of St. Audry's lace, but in

time was corrupted into "tawdry lace." Shakespeare makes an allusion to

this lace in the "Winter's Tale" (iv. 4), where Mopsa says: "Come, you

promised me a tawdry lace, and a pair of sweet gloves;" although in his

time the expression rather meant a rustic necklace.[687] An old English

historian makes St. Audry die of a swelling in her throat, which she

considered as a particular judgment for having been in her youth

addicted to wearing fine necklaces.[688]

[687] See Nares's "Glossary," vol. ii. p. 868; Brady's "Clavis

Calendaria."

[688] Nich. Harpsfield, "Hist. Eccl. Anglicana," p. 86.

_St. Crispin's Day_ (October 25) has for centuries been a red-letter day

in the calendar of the shoemakers, being the festival of their patron

saint. According to tradition, the brothers Crispin and Crispinian,

natives of Rome, having become converted to Christianity, travelled to

Soissons, in France, in order to preach the gospel. Being desirous,

however, of rendering themselves independent, they earned their daily

bread by making shoes, with which, it is said, they furnished the poor,

at an extremely low price. When the governor of the town discovered that

they maintained the Christian faith, and also tried to make proselytes

of the inhabitants, he ordered them to be beheaded. From this time the

shoemakers have chosen them for their tutelary saints. Shakespeare has

perpetuated the memory of this festival by the speech which he has given

to Henry V. (iv. 3), before the battle of Agincourt:

"This day is call'd the feast of Crispian:

He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,

Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam'd,

And rouse him at the name of Crispian.

He that shall live this day, and see old age,

Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,

And say, 'To-morrow is Saint Crispian.'"

St. Dennis has been adopted as the patron saint of France (October 9),

in the same manner as the English have chosen St. George. The

guardianship of the two countries is thus expressed in the chorus to the

old ballad:

"St. George he was for England,

St. Denis was for France,

Singing, Honi soit qui mal y pense."

King Henry ("Henry V.," v. 2) says to Princess Katherine: "Shall not

thou and I, between Saint Dennis and Saint George, compound a boy, half

French, half English," etc. In "1 Henry VI." (iii. 2), Charles says:

"Saint Dennis bless this happy stratagem,

And once again we'll sleep secure in Rouen."

_Hallowmas_ (November 1) is one of the names for the feast of

All-hallows, that is, All-Saints. Shakespeare alludes to a custom

relative to this day, some traces of which are still to be found in

Staffordshire, Cheshire, and other counties. The poor people go from

parish to parish _a-souling_, as they term it, that is, begging, in a

certain lamentable tone, for soul-cakes, at the same time singing a song

which they call the souler's song. This practice is, no doubt, a remnant

of the Popish ceremony of praying for departed souls, especially those

of friends, on the ensuing day, November 2, the feast of All-Souls.[689]

The following is a specimen of the doggerel sung on these occasions:

"Soul! soul! for a soul-cake;

Pray, good mistress, for a soul-cake.

One for Peter, and two for Paul,

Three for them who made us all.

Soul! soul! for an apple or two:

If you've got no apples, pears will do.

Up with your kettle, and down with your pan,

Give me a good big one, and I'll be gone.

Soul! soul! for a soul-cake, etc.

An apple, a pear, a plum, or a cherry,

Is a very good thing to make us merry."

[689] See "British Popular Customs," p. 404.

In the "Two Gentlemen of Verona" (ii. 1), Speed thus speaks of this

practice: "To watch, like one that fears robbing; to speak puling,[690]

like a beggar at Hallowmas."

[690] Puling, or singing small, as Bailey explains the word.

The season of Hallowmas, having been frequently mild, has been, from

time immemorial, proverbially called "All-hallown summer," _i. e._, late

summer. Thus, in "1 Henry IV." (i. 2), Prince Henry, likening Falstaff,

with his old age and young passions, to this November summer, addresses

him: "Farewell, thou latter spring! Farewell, All-hallown summer."[691]

In some parts of Germany there is a proverb, "All-Saints' Day brings the

second summer;" and in Sweden there is often about this time a

continuance of warm, still weather, which is called "the All-Saints'

rest."

[691] See Swainson's "Weather-Lore," 1873, pp. 141-143.

There is another reference to this festival in "Richard II." (v. 1),

where the king says of his wife:

"She came adorned hither like sweet May,

Sent back like Hallowmas or short'st of day."

_All-Souls' Day_ (November 2)--which is set apart by the Roman Catholic

Church for a solemn service for the repose of the dead--was formerly

observed in this country, and among the many customs celebrated in its

honor were ringing the passing bell, making soul-cakes, blessing beans,

etc.[692] In "Richard III." (v. 1), Buckingham, when led to execution,

says:

"This is All-Souls' day, fellows, is it not?

_Sheriff._ It is, my lord.

_Buckingham._ Why, then, All-Souls' day is my body's doomsday."

[692] See "British Popular Customs," p. 409.

_Lord Mayor's Day_ (November 9). A custom which was in days gone by

observed at the inauguration dinner was that of the Lord Mayor's fool

leaping, clothes and all, into a large bowl of custard. It is alluded to

in "All's Well that Ends Well" (ii. 5), by Lafeu: "You have made shift

to run into't, boots and spurs and all, like him that leaped into the

custard." Ben Jonson, in his "Devil's an Ass" (i. 1), thus refers to

it:

"He may, perchance, in tail of a sheriff's dinner,

Skip with a rime o' the table, from new nothing,

And take his almain leap into a custard,

Shall make my lady mayoress and her sisters,

Laugh all their hoods over their shoulders."

_St. Martin's Day_ (November 11). The mild weather about this time has

given rise to numerous proverbs; one of the well-known ones being "St.

Martin's little summer," an allusion to which we find in "1 Henry VI."

(i. 2), where Joan of Arc says:

"Expect Saint Martin's summer, halcyon days."

which Johnson paraphrases thus: "Expect prosperity after misfortune,

like fair weather at Martlemas, after winter has begun." As an

illustration, too, of this passage, we may quote from the _Times_,

October 6, 1864: "It was one of those rare but lovely exceptions to a

cold season, called in the Mediterranean St. Martin's summer."

A corruption of Martinmas is Martlemas. Falstaff is jocularly so called

by Poins, in "2 Henry IV." (ii. 2), as being in the decline, as the year

is at this season: "And how doth the martlemas, your master?"

This was the customary time for hanging up provisions to dry, which had

been salted for winter use.

_St. Nicholas_ (December 6). This saint was deemed the patron of

children in general, but more particularly of all schoolboys, among whom

his festival used to be a very great holiday. Various reasons have been

assigned for his having been chosen as the patron of children--either

because the legend makes him to have been a bishop while yet a boy, or

from his having restored three young scholars to life who had been

cruelly murdered,[693] or, again, on account of his early abstinence

when a boy. In the "Two Gentlemen of Verona" (iii. 1) he is alluded to

in this capacity:

"_Speed._ Come, fool, come; try me in thy paper.

_Launce._ There; and Saint Nicholas be thy speed."

[693] See Douce's "Illustrations of Shakespeare," p. 25; "The

Church of Our Fathers," by D. Rock, 1853, vol. iii. p. 215;

_Gent. Mag._, 1777, vol. xliii. p. 158; see Nares's "Glossary,"

vol. ii. pp. 601, 602; Brady's "Clavis Calendaria."

Nicholas's clerks was, and still is, a cant term for highwaymen and

robbers; but though the expression is very common, its origin is a

matter of uncertainty. In "1 Henry IV." (ii. 1) it is thus alluded to:

"_Gadshill._ Sirrah, if they meet not with Saint Nicholas'

clerks, I'll give thee this neck.

_Chamberlain._ No. I'll none of it: I pr'thee, keep that for

the hangman: for I know thou worshippest Saint Nicholas as

truly as a man of falsehood may."

_Christmas._ Among the observances associated with this season, to which

Shakespeare alludes, we may mention the Christmas Carol, a reference to

which is probably made in "A Midsummer-Night's Dream" (ii. 1), by

Titania:

"No night is now with hymn or carol blest."

Hamlet (ii. 2) quotes two lines from a popular ballad, entitled the

"Song of Jephthah's Daughter," and adds: "The first row of the pious

chanson will show you more."[694]

[694] Drake's "Shakespeare and his Times," vol. i. p. 198.

In days gone by, the custom of carol-singing was most popular, and

Warton, in his "History of English Poetry," notices a license granted in

1562 to John Tysdale for printing "Certayne goodly carowles to be songe

to the glory of God;" and again "Crestenmas Carowles auctorisshed by my

lord of London."[695]

[695] See Sandy's "Christmastide, its History, Festivities, and

Carols;" also _Athenæum_, Dec. 20, 1856.

In the "Taming of the Shrew" (Ind., sc. 2) Sly asks whether "a

comonty[696] is not a Christmas gambold." Formerly the sports and

merry-makings at this season were on a most extensive scale, being

presided over by the Lord of Misrule.[697] Again, in "Love's Labour's

Lost" (v. 2), Biron speaks of "a Christmas comedy."

[696] His blunder for comedy.

[697] See "British Popular Customs," 1876, pp. 459, 463;

Nares's "Glossary," vol. ii. p. 943; "Antiquarian Repertory,"

vol. i. p. 218.

As we have noticed, too, in our chapter on Plants, a gilt nutmeg was

formerly a common gift at Christmas, and on other festive occasions, to

which an allusion is probably made in the same scene. Formerly, at this

season, the head of the house assembled his family around a bowl of

spiced ale, from which he drank their healths, then passed it to the

rest, that they might drink too. The word that passed among them was the

ancient Saxon phrase _wass hael_[698], _i. e._, to your health. Hence

this came to be recognized as the wassail or wassel bowl; and was the

accompaniment to festivity of every kind throughout the year. Thus

Hamlet (i. 4) says:

"The king doth wake to-night, and takes his rouse,

Keeps wassail."

[698] This was a deep draught to the health of any one, in

which it was customary to empty the glass or vessel.

And in "Love's Labour's Lost" (v. 2), Biron speaks of:

"wakes and wassails, meetings, markets, fairs."

In "Macbeth" (i. 7), it is used by Lady Macbeth in the sense of

intemperance, who, speaking of Duncan's two chamberlains, says:

"Will I with wine and wassail so convince,

That memory, the warder of the brain,

Shall be a fume, and the receipt of reason

A limbeck only."

In "Antony and Cleopatra" (i. 4), Cæsar advises Antony to live more

temperately, and to leave his "lascivious wassails."[699]

[699] See Douce's "Illustrations of Shakespeare," 1839, pp. 441-449.

In the same way, a "wassail candle" denoted a large candle lighted up at

a festival, a reference to which occurs in "2 Henry IV." (i. 2):

"_Chief-Justice._ You are as a candle, the better part burnt out.

_Falstaff._ A wassail candle, my lord; all tallow."

A custom which formerly prevailed at Christmas, and has not yet died

out, was for mummers to go from house to house, attired in grotesque

attire, performing all kinds of odd antics.[700] Their performances,

however, were not confined to this season. Thus, in "Coriolanus" (ii. 1)

Menenius speaks of making "faces like mummers."

[700] See "British Popular Customs," pp. 461, 469, 478, 480.

_Cakes and Ale._ It was formerly customary on holidays and saints' days

to make cakes in honor of the day. In "Twelfth Night" (ii. 3), Sir Toby

says: "Dost thou think, because thou art virtuous, there shall be no

more cakes and ale?" To which the Clown replies: "Yes, by Saint Anne;

and ginger shall be hot i' the mouth too."

_Wakes._ In days gone by, the church wake was an important institution,

and was made the occasion for a thorough holiday. Each church, when

consecrated, was dedicated to a saint, and on the anniversary of that

day was kept the wake. In many places there was a second wake on the

birthday of the saint. At such seasons, the floor of the church was

strewed with rushes and flowers, and in the churchyard tents were

erected, to supply cakes and ale for the use of the merrymakers on the

following day, which was kept as a holiday. They are still kept up in

many parishes, but in a very different manner.[701] In "King Lear" (iii.

6), Edgar says: "Come, march to wakes and fairs, and market towns." We

may also compare "Love's Labour's Lost" (v. 2) and "Winter's Tale" (iv.

2). In "Hamlet" (i. 4) it is used in the sense of revel.

[701] See Brand's "Pop. Antiq.," 1849, vol. i. pp. 1-15.

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