Popular sports and pastimes were wisely encouraged by James the First,
whose great consideration for the enjoyments of the humbler classes of
his subjects cannot be too highly commended; and since the main purpose
of this history is to point out some of the abuses prevalent during his
reign, it is but fair that at least one of the redeeming features should
be mentioned. It has ever been the practice of sour-spirited
sectarianism to discountenance recreations of any kind, however
harmless, on the Sabbath; and several flagrant instances of this sort of
interference, on the part of the puritanical preachers and their
disciples, having come before James during his progress through the
northern counties of England, and especially Lancashire, he caused, on
his return to London, his famous Declaration concerning Lawful Sports on
Sundays and holidays to be promulgated; wherein a severe rebuke was
administered to the Puritans and precisians, and the cause of the people
espoused in terms, which, while most creditable to the monarch, are not
altogether inapplicable to other times besides those in which they were
delivered. "Whereas," says King James, in his Manifesto, "We did justly
rebuke some Puritans and precise people, and took order that the like
unlawful carriage should not be used by any of them hereafter, in the
prohibiting and unlawful punishing of our good people for using their
lawful recreations and honest exercises upon Sundays and other holidays,
after the afternoon sermon or service: we now find that two sorts of
people wherewith that country is much infested (we mean Papists and
Puritans) have maliciously traduced those our just and honourable
proceedings. And therefore we have thought good hereby to clear and make
our pleasure to be manifested to all our good people in those parts."
And he sums up his arguments, in favour of the license granted, as
follows:--"For when shall the common people have leave to exercise, if
not upon the Sundays and holidays, seeing they must apply their labour,
and win their living in all working days?" Truly, an unanswerable
proposition.
At the same time that these provisions for rational recreation were
made, all unlawful games were prohibited. Conformity was strictly
enjoined on the part of the Puritans themselves; and disobedience was
rendered punishable by expatriation, as in the case of recusants
generally. Such was the tenor of the royal mandate addressed to the
bishop of each diocese and to all inferior clergy throughout the
kingdom. Arbitrary it might be, but it was excellent in intention; for
stubborn-necked personages had to be dealt with, with whom milder
measures would have proved ineffectual. As it was, violent opposition
was raised against the decree, and the Puritanical preachers wore loud
in its condemnation, and as far as was consistent with safety, vehement
in their attacks upon its royal author.
The boon, however, was accepted by the majority of the people in the
spirit in which it was offered, and the licence afforded them was but
little abused. Perfect success, indeed, must have attended the benign
measure, had it not been for the efforts of the Puritanical and Popish
parties, who made common cause against it, and strove by every means to
counteract its beneficial influence: the first because in the austerity
of their faith they would not have the Sabbath in the slightest degree
profaned, even by innocent enjoyment; the second, not because they cared
about the fancied desecration of the Lord's day, but because they would
have no other religion enjoy the same privileges as their own. Thus
sectarianism and intolerance went for once hand in hand, and openly or
covertly, as they found occasion, did their best to make the people
dissatisfied with the benefit accorded them, trying to persuade them its
acceptance would prejudice their eternal welfare.
Such arguments, however, had no great weight with the masses, who could
not be brought to see any heinous or deadly sin in lawful recreation or
exercises after divine service, always provided the service itself were
in no respect neglected; and so the King's decree prevailed over all
sectarian opposition, and was fully carried out. The merry month of May
became really a season of enjoyment, and was kept as a kind of floral
festival in every village throughout the land. May-games, Whitsun-ales,
Morrice-dances, were renewed as in bygone times; and all robust and
healthful sports, as leaping, vaulting, and archery, were not only
permitted on Sundays by the authorities, but enjoined.
These preliminary remarks are made for the better understanding of what
is to follow.
We have already stated that long before Jocelyn and his companion
reached Tottenham, they were made aware by the ringing of bells from its
old ivy-grown church tower, and by other joyful sounds, that some
festival was taking place there; and the nature of the festival was at
once revealed, as they entered the long straggling street, then, as now,
constituting the chief part of the pretty little village, and beheld a
large assemblage of country folk, in holiday attire, wending their way
towards the green for the purpose of setting up a May-pole upon it, and
making the welkin ring with their gladsome shouts.
All the youths and maidens of Tottenham and its vicinity, it appeared,
had risen before daybreak that morning, and sallied forth into the woods
to cut green boughs, and gather wild--flowers, for the ceremonial. At
the same time they selected and hewed down a tall, straight tree--the
tallest and straightest they could find; and, stripping off its
branches, placed it on a wain, and dragged it to the village with the
help of an immense team of oxen, numbering as many as forty yoke. Each
ox had a garland of flowers fastened to the tip of its horns; and the
tall spar itself was twined round with ropes of daffodils, blue-bells,
cowslips, primroses, and other early flowers, while its summit was
surmounted with a floral crown, and festooned with garlands,
various-coloured ribands, kerchiefs, and streamers. The foremost yokes
of oxen had bells hung round their necks, which they shook as they moved
along, adding their blithe melody to the general hilarious sounds.
When the festive throng reached the village, all its inhabitants--male
and female, old and young--rushed forth to greet them; and such as were
able to leave their dwellings for a short while joined in the
procession, at the head of which, of course, was borne the May-pole.
After it, came a band of young men, armed with the necessary implements
for planting the shaft in the ground; and after them a troop of maidens,
bearing bundles of rushes. Next came the minstrels, playing merrily on
tabor, fife, sacbut, rebec, and tambourine. Then followed the Queen of
the May, walking by herself,--a rustic beauty, hight Gillian
Greenford,--fancifully and prettily arrayed for the occasion, and
attended, at a little distance, by Robin Hood, Maid Marian, Friar Tuck,
the Hobby-horse, and a band of morrice-dancers. Then came the crowd,
pellmell, laughing, shouting, and huzzaing,--most of the young men and
women bearing green branches of birch and other trees in their hands.
The spot selected for the May-pole was a piece of green sward in the
centre of the village, surrounded by picturesque habitations, and
having, on one side of it, the ancient Cross. The latter, however, was
but the remnant of the antique structure, the cross having been robbed
of its upper angular bar, and otherwise mutilated, at the time of the
Reformation, and it was now nothing more than a high wooden pillar,
partly cased with lead to protect it from the weather, and supported by
four great spurs.
Arrived at the green, the wain was brought to a halt; the crowd forming
a vast circle round it, so as not to interfere with the proceedings. The
pole was then taken out, reared aloft, and so much activity was
displayed, so many eager hands assisted, that in an inconceivably short
space of time it was firmly planted in the ground; whence it shot up
like the central mast of a man-of-war, far overtopping the roofs of the
adjoining houses, and looking very gay indeed, with its floral crown
a-top, and its kerchiefs and streamers fluttering in the breeze.
Loud and reiterated shouts broke from the assemblage on the
satisfactory completion of the ceremony, the church bells pealed
merrily, and the minstrels played their most enlivening strains. The
rushes were strewn on the ground at the foot of the May-pole, and
arbours were formed, with marvellous celerity, in different parts of the
green, with the branches of the trees. At the same time, the ancient
Cross was decorated with boughs and garlands. The whole scene offered as
pretty and cheerful a sight as could be desired; but there was one
beholder, as will presently appear, who viewed it in a different light.
It now came to the Queen of the May's turn to advance to the pole, and
stationing herself beneath it, the morrice-dancers and the rest of the
mummers formed a ring round her, and, taking hands, footed it merrily to
the tune of "Green Sleeves."
Long before this, Jocelyn and his attendant had come up, and both were
so much interested that they felt no disposition to depart. Gillian's
attractions had already fired the inflammable heart of the apprentice,
who could not withdraw his gaze from her; and so ardent were his looks,
and so expressive his gestures of admiration, that ere long he
succeeded, to his no small delight, in attracting her notice in return.
Gillian Greenford was a bright-eyed, fair-haired young creature; light,
laughing, radiant; with cheeks soft as peach bloom, and beautifully
tinged with red, lips carnation-hued, and teeth white as pearls. Her
parti-coloured, linsey-woolsey petticoats looped up on one side
disclosed limbs with no sort of rustic clumsiness about them; but, on
the contrary, a particularly neat formation both of foot and ankle. Her
scarlet bodice, which, like the lower part of her dress, was decorated
with spangles, bugles, and tinsel ornaments of various kinds,--very
resplendent in the eyes of the surrounding swains, as well as in those
of Dick Taverner,--her bodice, we say, spanning a slender waist, was
laced across, while the snowy kerchief beneath it did not totally
conceal a very comely bust. A wreath of natural flowers was twined very
gracefully within her waving and almost lint-white locks, and in her
hand she held a shepherdess's crook. Such was the Beauty of Tottenham,
and the present Queen of the May. Dick Taverner thought her little less
than angelic, and there were many besides who shared in his opinion.
If Dick had been thus captivated on the sudden, Jocelyn had not escaped
similar fascination from another quarter. It befel in this way:
At an open oriel window, in one of the ancient and picturesque
habitations before described as facing the green, stood a young maiden,
whose beauty was of so high an order, and so peculiar a character, that
it at once attracted and fixed attention. Such, at least, was the effect
produced by it on Jocelyn. Shrinking from the public gaze, and,
perhaps, from some motive connected with religious scruples, scarcely
deeming it right to be a spectator of the passing scene, this fair
maiden was so placed as to be almost screened from general view. Yet it
chanced that Jocelyn, from the circumstance of being on horseback, and
from his position, was able to command a portion of the room in which
she stood; and he watched her for some minutes before she became aware
she was the object of his regards. When, at length, she perceived that
his gaze was steadily fixed upon her, a deep blush suffused her cheeks,
and she would have instantly retired, if the young man had not at once
lowered his looks. Still, he ever and anon ventured a glance towards the
oriel window, and was delighted to find the maiden still there,--nay, he
fancied she must have advanced a step or two, for he could
unquestionably distinguish her features more plainly. And lovely they
were--most lovely! pensive in expression, and perhaps a thought too
pale, until the crimsoning tide had mounted to her cheek. Thus mantled
with blushes, her countenance might gain something in beauty, but it
lost much of the peculiar charm which it derived from extreme
transparency and whiteness of skin--a tint which set off to perfection
the splendour of her magnificent black eyes, with their darkly-fringed
lids and brows, while it also relieved, in an equal degree, the jetty
lustre of her hair. Her features were exquisitely chiselled, delicate
and classical in mould, and stamped with refinement and intelligence.
Perfect simplicity, combined with a total absence of personal ornament,
distinguished her attire; and her raven hair was plainly, but by no
means unbecomingly, braided over her snowy forehead. Something in this
simplicity of costume and in her manner inclined Jocelyn to think the
fair maiden must belong to some family professing Puritanical opinions;
and he found, upon inquiry from one of his neighbours in the throng--an
old farmer--that this was actually the case.
The young lady was Mistress Aveline Calveley, his informant said, only
child of Master Hugh Calveley, who had but lately come to dwell in
Tottenham, and of whom little was known, save that he was understood to
have fought at the battle of Langside, and served with great bravery,
under Essex, both in Spain and in Ireland, in the times of good Queen
Bess--such times as England would never see again, the old farmer
parenthetically remarked, with a shake of the head. Master Hugh
Calveley, he went on to say, was a strict Puritan, austere in his life,
and morose in manner; an open railer against the licence of the times,
and the profligacy of the court minions,--in consequence of which he had
more than once got himself into trouble. He abhorred all such sports as
were now going forward; and had successfully interfered with the parish
priest, Sir Onesimus, who was somewhat of a precisian himself, to
prevent the setting up the May-pole on the past Sunday,--for which, the
farmer added, some of the young folks owe him a grudge; and he expressed
a hope, at the same time, that the day might pass by without any
exhibition being made of their ill-will towards him.
"These Puritans are not in favour with our youth," the old man said;
"and no great marvel they be not; for they check them in their
pleasures, and reprove them for harmless mirth. Now, as to Mistress
Aveline herself, she is devout and good; but she takes no part in the
enjoyments proper to her years, and leads a life more like a nun in a
convent, or a recluse in a cell, than a marriageable young lady. She
never stirs forth without her father, and, as you may suppose, goes more
frequently to lecture, or to church, or to some conventicle, than
anywhere else. Such a life would not suit my grandchild, Gillian, at
all. Nevertheless, Mistress Aveline is a sweet young lady, much beloved
for her kindness and goodness; and her gentle words have healed many a
wound occasioned by the harsh speech and severe reproofs of her father.
There, Sir,--you may behold her fair and saintly countenance now. She
seems pleased with the scene, and I am sure she well may be; for it is
always a pleasant and a heart-cheering sight to see folks happy and
enjoying themselves; and I cannot think that the beneficent Power above
ever intended we should make ourselves miserable on earth, in order to
win a place in heaven. I am an old man, Sir; and feeling this to be
true, I have ever inculcated my opinions upon my children and
grandchildren. Yet I confess I am surprised--knowing what I do of her
father's character--that Mistress Aveline should indulge herself with
beholding this profane spectacle, which ought, by rights, to be odious
in her eyes."
The latter part of this speech was uttered with a sly chuckle on the
part of the old farmer, not altogether agreeable to Jocelyn. The growing
interest he felt in the fair Puritan rendered him susceptible. The eyes
of the two young persons had met again more than once, and were not
quite so quickly withdrawn on either side as before; perhaps, because
Aveline was less alarmed by the young man's appearance, or more
attracted by it; and perhaps, on his part, because he had grown a little
bolder. We know not how this might be; but we _do_ know that the fair
Puritan had gradually advanced towards the front of the window, and was
now leaning slightly out of it, so that her charms of face and figure
were more fully revealed.
Meanwhile, the May-pole had been planted, and the first dance round it
concluded. At its close, Gillian, quitting her post of honour near the
tree, and leaving the morrice-dancers and mummers to resume their merry
rounds, unsanctioned by her sovereign presence, took a tambourine from
one of the minstrels, and proceeded to collect gratuities within it
intended for the hired performers in the ceremony. She was very
successful in her efforts, as the number of coins, soon visible within
the tambourine, showed. Not without blushing and some hesitation did the
May Queen approach Dick Taverner. The 'prentice made a pretence of
fumbling in his pouch in order to prolong the interview, which chance
had thus procured him; and after uttering all the complimentary phrases
he could muster, and looking a great deal more than he said, he wound up
his speech by declaring he would bestow a mark (and that was no slight
sum, for the highest coin yet given was a silver groat) upon the
minstrels, if they would play a lively dance for him, and she, the May
Queen, would grace him with her hand in it. Encouraged by the laughter
of the bystanders, and doubtless entertaining no great dislike to the
proposal, Gillian, with a little affected coyness, consented; and the
mark was immediately deposited in the tambourine by Dick, who,
transported by his success, sprang from his saddle, and committing his
steed to the care of a youth near him, whom he promised to reward for
his trouble, followed close after the May Queen, as she proceeded with
her collection. Ere long she came to Jocelyn, and held out the
tambourine towards him. An idea just then occurred to the young man.
"You have a pretty nosegay there, fair maiden," he said, pointing to a
bunch of pinks and other fragrant flowers in her breast. "I will buy it
from you, if you list."
"You shall have it and welcome, fair Sir," Gillian replied, detaching
the bouquet from her dress, and offering it to him.
"Well done, Gillian," the old farmer cried approvingly.
"Ah! are you there, grandsire!" the May Queen exclaimed. "Come! your
gift for the minstrels and mummers--quick! quick!"
And while old Greenford searched for a small coin, Jocelyn placed a
piece of silver in the tambourine.
"Will you do me a favour, my pretty maiden?" he said courteously.
"That I will, right willingly, fair Sir," she replied; "provided I may
do it honestly."
"You shall not do it else," old Greenford observed.
"Come, your gift, grandsire--you are slow in finding it."
"Have patience, wench, have patience. Young folks are always in a hurry.
Here 'tis!"
"Only a silver groat!" she exclaimed, tossing her head. "Why, this young
man behind me gave a mark; and so did this gallant gentleman on
horseback."
"Poh! poh! go along, wench. They will take better care of their money
when they grow older."
"Stay, my pretty maiden," Jocelyn cried; "you have promised to do me a
favour."
"What is it?" she inquired.
"Present this nosegay on my part to the young lady in yonder window."
"What! offer this to Mistress Aveline Calveley?" Gillian exclaimed in
surprise. "Are you sure she will accept it, Sir?"
"Tut! do his bidding, child, without more ado," old Greenford
interposed. "I shall like to see what will come of it--ha! ha!"
Gillian could not help smiling too, and proceeded on her mission.
Jocelyn put his horse into motion, and slowly followed her, almost
expecting Aveline to withdraw. But he was agreeably disappointed by
finding her maintain her place at the window. She must have remarked
what was going forward, and therefore her tarrying emboldened him, and
buoyed up his hopes.
Arrived beneath the window, Gillian committed the tambourine to Dick
Taverner, who still hovered behind her like her shadow, and fastening
the bouquet to the end of her shepherdess's crook held it up towards
Aveline, crying out, in a playful tone, and with an arch look, "'Tis a
love gift to Mistress Aveline Calveley on the part of that young
cavalier."
Whether the offering, thus presented, would have been accepted may be
questioned; but it was never destined to reach her for whom it was
intended. Scarcely was the flower-laden crook uplifted, than a man of
singularly stern aspect, with gray hair cut close to the head, grizzled
beard, and military habiliments of ancient make, suddenly appeared
behind Aveline, and seizing the nosegay, cast it angrily and
contemptuously forth; so that it fell at Jocelyn's feet.