CHAPTER XII.

BIRTH AND BAPTISM.

As every period of human life has its peculiar rites and ceremonies, its

customs and superstitions, so has that ever all-eventful hour which

heralds the birth of a fresh actor upon the world's great stage. From

the cradle to the grave, through all the successive epochs of man's

existence, we find a series of traditional beliefs and popular notions,

which have been handed down to us from the far-distant past. Although,

indeed, these have lost much of their meaning in the lapse of years, yet

in many cases they are survivals of primitive culture, and embody the

conceptions of the ancestors of the human race. Many of these have been

recorded by Shakespeare, who, acting upon the great principle of

presenting his audience with matters familiar to them, has given

numerous illustrations of the manners and superstitions of his own

country, as they existed in his day. Thus, in "Richard III." (iii. 1),

when he represents the Duke of Gloster saying,

"So wise so young, they say, do never live long,"

he alludes to the old superstition, still deeply rooted in the minds of

the lower orders, that a clever child never lives long. In Bright's

"Treatise of Melancholy" (1586, p. 52), we read: "I have knowne children

languishing of the splene, obstructed and altered in temper, talke with

gravity and wisdom surpassing those tender years, and their judgments

carrying a marvellous imitation of the wisdome of the ancient, having

after a sort attained that by disease, which others have by course of

yeares; whereof I take it the proverb ariseth, that 'they be of shorte

life who are of wit so pregnant.'" There are sundry superstitious

notions relating to the teething of children prevalent in our own and

other countries. In "3 Henry VI." (v. 6), the Duke of Gloster, alluding

to the peculiarities connected with his, birth, relates how

"The midwife wonder'd; and the women cried

'O, Jesus bless us, he is born with teeth!'

And so I was; which plainly signified

That I should snarl, and bite, and play the dog."

It is still believed, for instance, in many places, that if a child's

first tooth appears in the upper jaw it is an omen of its dying in

infancy; and when the teeth come early it is regarded as an indication

that there will soon be another baby. In Sussex there is a dislike to

throwing away the cast teeth of children, from a notion that, should

they be found and gnawed by any animal, the child's new tooth would be

exactly like the animal's that had bitten the old one. In Durham, when

the first teeth come out the cavities must be filled with salt, and each

tooth burned, while the following words are repeated:

"Fire, fire, burn bone,

God send me my tooth again."

In the above passage, then, Shakespeare simply makes the Duke of Gloster

refer to that extensive folk-lore associated with human birth, showing

how careful an observer he was in noticing the whims and oddities of his

countrymen.

Again, one of the foremost dangers supposed to hover round the new-born

infant was the propensity of witches and fairies to steal the most

beautiful and well-favored children, and to leave in their places such

as were ugly and stupid. These were usually called "changelings."

Shakespeare alludes to this notion in "A Midsummer-Night's Dream" (ii.

1), where Puck says:

"Because that she, as her attendant, hath

A lovely boy, stol'n from an Indian king;

She never had so sweet a changeling."

And further on, in the same scene, Oberon says:

"I do but beg a little changeling boy,

To be my henchman."

As a fairy is, in each case, the speaker, the changeling in this case

denotes the child taken by them. So, too, in the "Winter's Tale" (iii.

3), in the passage where the Shepherd relates: "it was told me, I should

be rich by the fairies; this is some changeling:--open't." As the child

here found was a beautiful one, the changeling must naturally mean the

child stolen by the fairies, especially as the gold left with it is

conjectured to be fairy gold. The usual signification, however, of the

term _changeling_ is thus marked by Spenser ("Fairy Queen," I. x. 65).

"From thence a faery thee unweeting reft,

There as thou slepst in tender swadling band,

And her base elfin brood there for thee left:

Such men do chaungelings call, so chaunged by faeries theft."

Occasionally fairies played pranks with new-born children by exchanging

them. To this notion King Henry refers ("1 Henry IV." i. 1) when,

speaking of Hotspur compared with his own profligate son, he exclaims:

"O that it could be prov'd

That some night-tripping fairy had exchang'd

In cradle-clothes our children where they lay,

And call'd mine Percy, his Plantagenet!"

To induce the fairies to restore the stolen child, it was customary in

Ireland either to put the one supposed of being a changeling on a hot

shovel, or to torment it in some other way. It seems that, in Denmark,

the mother heats the oven, and places the changeling on the peel,

pretending to put it in, or whips it severely with a rod, or throws it

into the water. In the Western Isles of Scotland idiots are supposed to

be the fairies' changelings, and, in order to regain the lost child,

parents have recourse to the following device. They place the changeling

on the beach, below high-water mark, when the tide is out, and pay no

heed to its screams, believing that the fairies, rather than suffer

their offspring to be drowned by the rising water, will convey it away,

and restore the child they had stolen. The sign that this has been done

is the cessation of the child's screaming. The most effectual

preservative, however, against fairy influence, is supposed to be

baptism; and hence, among the superstitious, this rite is performed as

soon as possible.

A form of superstition very common in days gone by was the supposed

influence of the "Evil eye," being designated by the terms "o'erlooked,"

"forelooked," or "eye-bitten," certain persons being thought to possess

the power of inflicting injury by merely looking on those whom they

wished to harm. Even the new-born child was not exempt from this danger,

and various charms were practised to avert it. In the "Merry Wives of

Windsor" (v. 5), Pistol says of Falstaff:

"Vile worm, thou wast o'erlook'd, even in thy birth."

This piece of folk-lore may be traced back to the time of the Romans,

and, in the late Professor Conington's translation of the "Satires of

Persius," it is thus spoken of: "Look here! a grandmother or a

superstitious aunt has taken baby from his cradle, and is charming his

forehead against mischief by the joint action of her middle-finger and

her purifying spittle; for she knows right well how to check the evil

eye."[702] Is is again alluded to in the "Merchant of Venice" (iii. 2),

where Portia, expressing to Bassanio her feelings of regard, declares:

"Beshrew your eyes,

They have o'erlook'd me, and divided me;

One half of me is yours, the other half yours;"

and in "Titus Andronicus" (ii. 1), Aaron speaks of Tamora as:

"faster bound to Aaron's charming eyes

Than is Prometheus tied to Caucasus."

[702] See Douce's "Illustrations of Shakespeare," p. 383;

Brand's "Pop. Antiq.," 1849, vol. iii. pp. 44-46, 326.

This superstition, however, is not yet obsolete, but lingers on in many

country places.

We may also compare a similar phrase made use of by Cleopatra ("Antony

and Cleopatra," iii. 7), in answer to Enobarbus:

"Thou hast forspoke my being in these wars,"

the word _forespeak_ having anciently had the meaning of charm or

bewitch, like _forbid_ in "Macbeth" (i. 3):

"He shall live a man forbid."[703]

[703] See Napier's "Folk-Lore of West of Scotland," 1879, pp.

34-40; Keightley's "Fairy Mythology;" Brand's "Pop. Antiq.,"

1849, vol. iii. pp. 73, 74.

Among the numerous customs associated with the birth of a child may be

mentioned the practice of giving presents at the announcement of this

important event. In "Henry VIII." (v. 1), on the old lady's making known

to the king the happy tidings of the birth of a princess, he says to

Lovell:

"Give her an hundred marks. I'll to the queen."

The old lady, however, resents what she considers a paltry sum:

"An hundred marks! By this light, I'll ha' more.

An ordinary groom is for such payment.

I will have more, or scold it out of him."

It was an ancient custom--one which is not quite out of use--for the

sponsors at christenings to offer silver or gilt spoons as a present to

the child. These were called "apostle spoons," because the extremity of

the handle was formed into the figure of one or other of the apostles.

Such as were opulent and generous gave the whole twelve; those who were

moderately rich or liberal escaped at the expense of the four

evangelists, or even sometimes contented themselves with presenting one

spoon only, which exhibited the figure of any saint, in honor of whom

the child received its name. In "Henry VIII." (v. 2) it is in allusion

to this custom that, when Cranmer professes to be unworthy of being a

sponsor to the young princess, Shakespeare makes the king reply:

"Come, come, my lord, you'd spare your spoons."

A story is related of Shakespeare promising spoons to one of Ben

Jonson's children, in a collection of anecdotes entitled "Merry Passages

and Jests," compiled by Sir Nicholas L'Estrange (MSS. Harl. 6395):

"Shakespeare was godfather to one of Ben Jonson's children, and after

the christ'ning, being in a deepe study, Jonson came to cheere him up,

and ask't him why he was so melancholy. 'No faith, Ben (sayes he), not

I; but I have been considering a great while what should be the fittest

gift for me to bestow upon my godchild, and I have resolv'd at last.' 'I

pr'y thee, what?' sayes he. 'I' faith, Ben, I'le e'en give him a douzen

good Latin spoones, and thou shalt translate them.'" "Shakespeare," says

Mr. Thoms,[704] "willing to show his wit, if not his wealth, gave a

dozen spoons, not of silver, but of latten, a name formerly used to

signify a mixed metal resembling brass, as being the most appropriate

gift to the child of a father so learned." In Middleton's "Chaste Maid

of Cheapside," 1620:

"_2 Gossip._ What has he given her? What is it, gossip?

_3 Gossip._ A fair, high-standing cup, and two great 'postle

spoons, one of them gilt."

[704] "Anecdotes and Traditions," 1839, p. 3.

And Beaumont and Fletcher, in the "Noble Gentleman" (v. 1):

"I'll be a gossip, Beaufort,

I have an odd apostle spoon."

The gossip's feast, held in honor of those who were associated in the

festivities of a christening, was a very ancient English custom, and is

frequently mentioned by dramatists of the Elizabethan age. The term

gossip or godsip, a Saxon word signifying _cognata ex parte dei_, or

godmother, is well defined by Richard Verstegan, in his "Restitution of

Decayed Intelligence." He says: "Our Christian ancestors, understanding

a spiritual affinity to grow between the parents and such as undertooke

for the child at baptism, called each other by the name of _godsib_,

which is as much as to say that they were _sib_ together, that is, of

_kin_ together through God. And the childe, in like manner, called such

his godfathers or godmothers."

As might be expected, it is often alluded to by Shakespeare. Thus, in

the "Comedy of Errors" (v. 1), we read:

"_Abbess._ Thirty-three years have I but gone in travail

Of you, my sons: and till this present hour

My heavy burthen ne'er delivered.

The duke, my husband, and my children both,

And you the calendars of their nativity,

Go to a gossip's feast, and go with me;

After so long grief, such festivity!

_Duke._ With all my heart I'll gossip at this feast."

And again, in "A Midsummer-Night's Dream" (ii. 1), the mischievous Puck

says:

"sometime lurk I in a gossip's bowl,

In very likeness of a roasted crab;

And, when she drinks, against her lips I bob,

And on her wither'd dewlap pour the ale."

And, once more, we find Capulet, in "Romeo and Juliet" (iii. 5), saying

to the Nurse:

"Peace, you mumbling fool!

Utter your gravity o'er a gossip's bowl;

For here we need it not."

Referring to entertainments at christenings, we find the following in

the "Batchelor's Banquet," 1603 (attributed to Dekker): "What cost and

trouble it will be to have all things fine against the Christening Day;

what store of sugar, biskets, comphets, and caraways, marmalet, and

marchpane, with all kinds of sweet-suckers and superfluous banqueting

stuff, with a hundred other odd and needless trifles, which at that time

must fill the pockets of dainty dames," by which it appears the ladies

not only ate what they pleased, but pocketed likewise. Upon this and the

falling-off of the custom of giving "apostle spoons" at the christening,

we read in "Shipman's Gossip," 1666:

"Especially since gossips now

Eat more at christenings than bestow.

Formerly when they us'd to troul

Gilt bowls of sack, they gave the bowl;

Two spoons at least; an use ill kept;

'Tis well now if our own be left."

Strype tells us that, in 1559, the son of Sir Thomas Chamberlayne was

baptized at St. Benet's Church, Paul's Wharf, when "the Church was hung

with cloth of arras, and after the christening were brought wafers,

comfits, and divers banqueting dishes, and hypocras and Muscadine wine,

to entertain the guests."

In "Henry VIII." (v. 4), the Porter says: "Do you look for ale and cakes

here, you rude rascals?"

A term formerly in use for the name given at baptism was "Christendom,"

an allusion to which we find in "All's Well that Ends Well" (i. 1),

where Helena says:

"with a world

Of pretty, fond, adoptious christendoms

That blinking Cupid gossips,"

the meaning evidently being, a number of pretty, fond, adopted

appellations or Christian names to which blind Cupid stands godfather.

The expression is often used for baptism by old writers; and Singer[705]

quotes from "King John" (iv. 1):

"By my christendom,

So I were out of prison, and kept sheep,

I should be as merry as the day is long."

[705] "Shakespeare," 1875, vol. iv. p. 314.

Steevens observes that, in the Puritanical times, it was usual to

christen children with the names of moral and religious virtues--a

practice to which allusion seems to be made in "The Tempest" (ii. 1) by

Antonio:

"Temperance was a delicate wench."

So Taylor, the Water-Poet, in his description of a strumpet, says:

"Though bad they be, they will not bate an ace,

To be call'd Prudence, Temperance, Faith, or Grace."

In days gone by a "chrisom" or "christom child" was one who had recently

been baptized, and died within the month of birth, the term having

originated in the "face-cloth, or piece of linen, put upon the head of a

child newly baptized." The word was formed from the chrism, that is, the

anointing, which formed a part of baptism before the Reformation. Thus,

in "Henry V." (ii. 3), the hostess, Mrs. Quickly, means "chrisom child"

in the following passage, where she speaks of Falstaff's death: "'A made

a finer end, and went away an it had been any christom child." In a

beautiful passage of Bishop Taylor's "Holy Dying" (chap. i. sec. 2),

this custom is thus spoken of: "Every morning creeps out of a dark

cloud, leaving behind it an ignorance and silence deep as midnight, and

undiscerned as are the phantoms that made a chrisom child to smile."

Referring to the use of the chrisom-cloth in connection with baptism, it

appears that, after the usual immersion in water, the priest made a

cross on the child's head with oil, after which the chrisom was put on,

the priest asking at the same time the infant's name, and saying,

"Receive this white, pure, and holy vestment, which thou shalt wear

before the tribunal of our Lord Jesus Christ, that thou mayest inherit

eternal life. Amen." It was to be worn seven days; but after the

Reformation, however, the use of oil was omitted, and the chrisom was

worn by the child till the mother's churching, when it was returned to

the church. If the child died before the churching, it was buried in the

chrisom, and hence it may be that the child itself was called a chrisom

or chrisomer.[706] Thus, it will be seen that Dame Quickly simply

compares the manner of Falstaff's death to that of a young infant. In

registers and bills of mortality we find infants alluded to under the

term "Chrisoms." Burn, in his "History of Parish Registers" (1862, p.

127), gives the subjoined entry from a register of Westminster Abbey:

"The Princess Ann's child a chrissome bu. in ye vault, Oct. 22, 1687."

[706] Douce's "Illustrations of Shakespeare," 1859, pp. 299,

300; Nares's "Glossary," vol. i. p. 160; see Brand's "Pop.

Antiq.," 1849, vol. ii. pp. 84, 85.

In Graunt's "Bills of Mortality," cited in Johnson's Dictionary, we

read: "When the convulsions were but were but few, the number of

chrisoms and infants was greater." The "bearing-cloth" was the mantle

which generally covered the child when it was carried to the font. It is

noticed in the "Winter's Tale" (iii. 3), by the Shepherd, who, on the

discovery of Perdita, says to the Clown: "Here's a sight for thee: look

thee, a bearing-cloth for a squire's child! Look thee here; take up,

take up, boy: open't." In Stow's "Chronicle" (1631, p. 1039), we are

told that about this time it was not customary "for godfathers and

godmothers generally to give plate at the baptisme of children, but only

to give 'christening shirts,' with little bands and cuffs, wrought

either with silk or blue thread. The best of them, for chief persons,

were edged with a small lace of black silk and gold, the highest price

of which, for great men's children, was seldom above a noble, and the

common sort, two, three, or four, and six shillings a piece."

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