"Sir John to be forgiven would hope;
He had been drowned, but for the rope!"
"Ay," said the king, chuckling at this opportunity, purposely given, for
a display of his wit--"he'll be hanged--na doot, na doot."
"Prythee, Sylvanus, or whatever thou be, bring Sir John hither, that he
may dry his web in the hot sunshine of a lady's glance," said Villiers,
with an ill-suppressed sneer.
Again this Proteus was transformed. Doffing his habit, Sir John Finett
stood confessed before them. He knelt penitently before the king, humbly
assuring his Majesty that he had been preparing this device, and many
others, to please and surprise him; but that, through the bungling of
some, and the bashfulness of others, he was obliged to enact the parts
himself. This excuse the king was graciously pleased to accept,
commending him for his great diligence and zeal.
The night now wore on with much outward show of mirth and revelry; but
the king went early to rest, purposing to rise betimes.
On the following day he went out again with a great company, and killed
a brace of stags, which mighty achievement, by authentic record, we find
was accomplished before dinner--the king alone being able to bring down
the venison.
We willingly pass over this day's banquet; nor do we care to chronicle
the feats of Morris the head-cook, and his deputies of the ranges and
the pastries. The boiling and roasting of poults and pullets, and the
construction of comfits and confections, we consign to everlasting
oblivion.
When the king rose from table, about four o'clock, as we find it in the
private journal of one present, he purposed to view the alum-mines,
about two miles distant from the Tower; but, being eager for the sport,
he went forth again a-hunting. He shot at a stag and missed. The next
bolt broke the thigh-bone, and the dog being long in coming, Lord
Compton despatched the poor beast, whereby his capture was effected. We
forbear to dwell on this, and much more of the like interest, returning
with the king to supper, where the beauteous Grace Gerard was present,
and Sir John Finett, her true knight and devoted slave. Dr Morton, then
Bishop of Chester, was chaplain, doling out a long Latin grace with
great unction.
The music had ceased, the second course being just served, when a signal
was given for the king's pledge.
"Let each one pledge the fairest," cried the royal toast-master, moved
to some unwonted gallantry by approximation with the fair and lusty
dames about his person. For it hath been wittily if not wickedly said by
a popular writer in another place that James was in all things like unto
Solomon, save in the matter of women.
Now was there a brave stir throughout the assembly. Such pledging of
mistresses and challenging of cups, that nothing could be like unto it.
"To the bright eyes and peerless grace of the lady Grace Gerard," said
Sir John Finett, draining his goblet to the uttermost;--and the maiden's
cheek glowed like a furnace.
"Said I not that he could win a lady's grace sooner than a monarch's
disfavour? Nay, your Majesty, I but meant that Sir John conveys the
fairest eyes and the warmest hearts into his own keeping, like an
_Ochus-Bochus_," said Buckingham, looking envious at the distinction he
had gained.
"I see plainly that Truth is hidden in a well," said Goring, drily.
Sir John Finett, courtier and dissembler as he was, could scarcely hide
the truth of this sally. But he quickly recovered his self-possession
ere the king's eye could detect a change. Yet did he not escape the
vigilance of his two friends, who suspected the real cause of his
absence on the preceding night.
"Thou shalt be her true knight to-morrow, and she shall be queen of our
sports," said the king, graciously extending his hand to the blushing
maiden.
But this speech pleased not some of the courtiers, and Buckingham,
having his eye on this fair flower, secretly resolved that Sir John
should not enjoy its fragrance unmolested.
On the following morning, being Sunday, there came a great company of
peasants and handicraftsmen--notorious idlers about the parish--with a
petition, wherein it was shown that the loyal and peaceable inhabitants
of Lancashire had been long hindered of their usual diversions on
Sundays and other holidays by the rigour of Puritans, Precisians, and
such like folk,[32] who, being enemies to all innocent and lawful mirth,
did mightily begrudge and maliciously restrain their use. These
petitioners, therefore, prayed his Majesty, "that he would not forbid
their exercising of all honest and lawful recreation, such as dancing of
men and women, archery, running, leaping, and vaulting; nor prohibit the
use of May-games, May-poles, morris-dances, and other like lawful
sports, so that the same should not impediment or cause neglect of
divine service."
The ground of this complaint was laid in the time of Elizabeth, who, in
order to reform the manners of the people, instituted a high commission
in the year 1579. The commissioners were Henry Earl of Derby, Henry Earl
of Huntingdon, William Lord Bishop of Chester, and others. At their
sittings, which were held in Manchester, they issued orders throughout
the county against "pipers and minstrels playing, making, and
frequenting bear-baiting and bull-baiting on the Sabbath days, or upon
any other days in time of divine service, and also against superstitious
ringing of bells, wakes, and common feasts; drunkenness, gaming, and
other vicious and unprofitable pursuits." These restrictions the royal
pedant thought incompatible with the public weal, and graciously
answered the petitioners in such-wise that he would have these
over-righteous zealots rebuked; that it was a misuse of their authority;
and that he would not only grant the humble request of his subjects,
but, on that very evening he would have a masque and an allegory, with
dancing and other like diversions, by the lords and other nobility there
present.
Such was the origin of the famous _Book of Sports_. His Majesty, on
returning to the capital, issued a proclamation,[33] stating--
"That in his progress through Lancashire he found it necessary to rebuke
some Puritans and precise people, and took order that the said unlawful
carriage should not be used by any of them hereafter, in the prohibiting
and unlawfully punishing his good people, for using their lawful
recreations and honest exercises upon Sundays, after divine service."
"His Majesty further saw that his loyal subjects in all other parts of
the kingdom did suffer in the same kind, though not, perhaps, in the
same degree as in Lancashire; and he did therefore, in his princely
wisdom, publish a declaration to all his loving subjects concerning
lawful sports to be used on Sundays and festivals."--Published by his
royal command in the year 1618, under the title of the _Book of Sports_.
The royal visit to Lancashire proved ultimately of more importance to
the civil and ecclesiastical establishments of the kingdom than could
have been anticipated either by the king or his subjects. This infamous
_Book of Sports_ formed the first link in that mysterious chain of
events, ending in the downfall of the Stuarts, and their exile and
expulsion from the throne.
The gladsome tidings having been communicated to the petitioners, with
one accord they galloped off, shouting and huzzaing, to the great
annoyance of all peaceable and sober-minded persons, and the great
dishonour of that holy day.
The king attended divine service at the chapel, where Dr Morton
preached, commanding and exhorting to an obedience well pleasing to
their Maker; inasmuch as it was rendered to the vicegerent of heaven,
the high and mighty and puissant James, defender of the Faith, and so
forth. After this comfortable and gracious doctrine, there was a
rush-bearing[34] and a piping before the king in the great quadrangle.
Robin Hood and Maid Marian, with the fool and hobby-horse, were,
doubtless, enacted to the jingling of morris-dancers and other
profanities.
These fooleries put the king into such good humour that he was more
witty in his speech than ordinary. Some of these sayings have been
recorded, and amongst the rest that well-known quibble which has been
the origin of an absurd mistake, still current through the county,
respecting the sirloin. It is said to have been knighted there by his
Majesty, who found, such were his knight-making propensities, that other
subjects were exhausted.
The occasion, as far as we have been able to gather, was thus:--Whilst
he sat at meat, casting his eyes upon a noble _surloin_ at the lower end
of the table, he cried out--
"Bring hither that _surloin_, sirrah, for 'tis worthy of a more
honourable post, being, as I may say, not _surloin_ but _sirloin_, the
noblest joint of all;" which ridiculous and desperate pun raised the
wisdom and reputation of England's Solomon to the highest.
Great was the stir and preparation for the evening masque; a pageant
containing many allegories and devices; dancing and merry games, with
all other "lawful recreations and honest amusements." Little heed was
given, we fear, to their Maker's service, these vain follies running in
the heads and filling the thoughts of the few who chose to attend in the
chapel; the greater portion were preparing for the entertainment, into
which service they entered heartily, and without grudge.
Sir George Goring and Sir John Finett were verily indefatigable on the
occasion, drilling and marshalling men, women, and children; conning
their lessons, and correcting the awkward and ridiculous movements and
mistakes of their pupils. Hobbe and the house steward were the foremost
in their parts, having important functions allotted to them; one to
grunt and howl in the similitude of a huge bear, and the other to roar
in lieu of a lion, before the "_Bower of Beautie_" for such was the
title or motto of the pageant. Nor was Sir John lacking in due homage to
his mistress; she was appointed to enact "The Queen of Beautie." It was
after much solicitation that she consented, receiving with great gravity
and attention the instructions of her accomplished preceptor.
The day was nigh spent and the sun fast sinking on the ocean, now
waiting with a chariot of flame to conduct him to other skies.
Grace was just finishing her toilet, and her maid adjusting the last
plait in her head-dress, when a low and guarded knock announced a
visitor. The door was slightly opened, when a messenger threw in a gay
billet and departed. It was superscribed thus:--"_To the Fairest,
These_."
With a quickened pulse and a tremulous hand, she glanced over the page,
elaborately penned as follows:--
"The Bower of Beautie hath a snake; beware that he come not nigh
thee, for his tooth has venom, and his tail a sting.
"From the mask with the black visard and silver mantle.
"THESE."
She had barely finished the perusal, when there came tripping in the
page of Sir John Finett, carrying a sealed billet redolent with the most
costly perfume. The superscription was precisely similar, and nearly in
the same hand:--"To the Fairest, These."
She hastily broke open the packet.
"Beauteous and most matchless queen! jealous of thy coming, the orb
of day hasteneth to hide himself in Thetis's lap. He leaveth thee
our luminary in his stead, whose twin stars shall so outmimic day
that his brightness shall not be remembered. Truly am I in great
heaviness and sorrow, seeing that I cannot be with you in the
opening of the pageant, by reason of mine office, and my duty to
the king. Yet will I not leave you without a protector. My trusty
friend Weldon will enact your faithful knighte. He weareth a black
visard and mantle of spotted silver, and will accompany you to the
bower, from whence he delivereth the queene and her distressed
damsels out of durance. When the dancing begins, expect me.
"THINE."
Little space was left for deliberation. The bell rang out its signal
for the actors to arrange themselves; hearing which, she thrust the
billets behind her stomacher, and hastened to the great court, where, on
a platform supported by four wheels, was builded a sort of hut,
decorated in a tawdry and fanciful style, and yeleped "The Bower of
Beautie."
Into this bower the queen was to be conducted, but the uproar and
confusion was indescribable; strange and antic figures hurrying to and
fro, seeking their companions, and crying lustily for their places. Sir
John Finett and Sir George Goring fulfilled the office of whippers-in,
attempting to establish order out of these undisciplined elements. Grace
drew back; but suddenly there came forth an armed knight from the bower
towards her, wearing a black visor and a mantle of spotted silver,
courteously beseeching her that she would accompany him to her station.
A great curtain of figured arras hung in front, concealing the interior,
where the queen and her maidens were supposed to be held captive. Grace
stepped into this temporary confinement, in which were four other ladies
masked, who graciously saluted their queen. The black-faced visor having
seated himself, the arras was again let down; when several men,
bedizened with ribands and nosegays, wheeled off the vehicle to its
destination on the green.
The bower was garnished with roses, gilliflowers, pinks, and odoriferous
herbs. Garlands of artificial flowers were interspersed; likewise
imitations in satin, silk, and gold, of various trees, herbs, and
fruits, not to be found in those parts. All this had been accomplished
with great pains by the ladies of the queen's mimic court, Sir John
Finett superintending "_The Bower of Beautie_," as his peculiar
province. To Sir George Goring were allotted the bears, satyrs, imps,
angels, gods, and other like rabble, who were taught with much labour
and difficulty, in so short a space, their several parts.
Sir John Finett had received a mandate to be near the king during the
acts, that he might be instructed in their several uses and designs,
Buckingham having signified his wish to sport a mask on the occasion;
Sir John, therefore, much to his regret, was completely debarred from
approaching his mistress.
The king's coming was announced by a flourish of trumpets, and a loud
bray from the delighted multitude, who sent up a shout that shook the
very foundations.
Under a pavilion of crimson cloth, decked with fringes and valences of
gold, walked forth the monarch. He leaned familiarly on the arm of his
host, who, together with Sir John Finett, was in immediate attendance.
After the king's train had passed, came a troop of morris-dancers, and
the hobby-horse, who frolicked in a most ungainly fashion round the
Bower of Beautie, kissing hands, and making many salutations towards
their enthralled queen. Next came out a bear and a lion, accompanied by
a thing intended to represent an ape, whose office it was to torment
these grave animals with his tricks. But so encumbered were they in
their disguise,--a heavy covering of bucks' skins and long wool,--that
they had much ado to keep on their clothes, while attempting to resent
the indignities they endured.
"Hang thee, Will--keep thy paws off my tail," said lion: "Dost not see I
shall be uncovered before the king?"
"I'll baste thine hide," said bear, "if thou meddlest any more with
mine."
The ape had settled himself on the back of this august-looking animal,
from whence he was suddenly dislodged, much to the delight and
entertainment of the king, who laughed heartily at his disaster. The
ravenous animals were on their way to the bower, there to watch for the
captives, making great demonstrations all the while of their
bloodthirsty intent.
Bear and lion accordingly squatted down before it, making as though they
would gladly have been at supper on the fair carcases of those within.
Anon comes a mighty magician, with a long beard, and a wand of some ells
in extent, purposing to effect the deliverance of the captives; but the
beasts rushed upon him, and in a trice brought him to the ground. At
this juncture the Silver Knight--showing thereby the superiority of true
valour over false gramarye--should have issued from the bower, rescued
the magician, and slain the beasts, opening a way for the escape of
these imprisoned damsels, who were to come forth dancing, and
representing a fair masque before the king;--but the magician remained
unrescued, while bear and lion lay growling for a long space, not
knowing what else to do. They looked about wistfully, not choosing to
feast on their prostrate victim. At last, finding no change in the
posture of affairs, they fairly stood erect, much to the marvel and
amusement of the spectators, running off on their hind legs amid the
shouts and derision of the assembly.
Sir John, apprehending some mistake, left the king for a moment to see
how matters stood; but Goring had lifted up the arras, and, lo! the
knight with the black visor and mantle of silver was not there, neither
was the Queen of Beauty in her bower. The four disconsolate maidens
still sat waiting for their cue, and expecting release. This was an
unlooked-for disaster. The pageant was at a stand. On inquiry, the
maidens told how that the gallant knight and the peerless queen had
departed before the king's arrival, saying they would return anon.
Sir John was bewildered and alarmed. The Silver Knight was trusty, and
no suspicion crossed him from that source; yet was their absence wholly
unaccountable. The king, seeing some mistake in the unravelling or
conception of the plot, good-naturedly commanded the minstrels to strike
up a favourite tune; at the hearing of which a number of masks
immediately mustered to begin dancing in the soft and dewy twilight.
Amongst the rest came in Buckingham, negligently attired, and without
his visor.
"I thought thee hidden amongst the maskers," said the king.
"Ay, my liege, a short space;--but the night is hot, and I am something
distempered and weary in this turmoil."
Buckingham looked flushed and agitated, strangely differing from his
usual manner. It was not unobserved by the king, who attributed the
change to illness.
"Thou shalt continue about our person," said the monarch. "Jack, see to
the sports:--the pageant hath suffered greatly from thine absence. I do
think the Queen of Beauty hath played thee false."
Buckingham took his usual station by the king; and Sir John Finett, in
great dolour, went forth in search of his mistress. He questioned the
guests diligently, but could gain no further tidings, save that she had
been seen by many in company with the Silver Knight. Every minute added
to his uneasiness: thoughts of a wild and terrible import haunted him.
In vain he tried to shake off these intruders--they came like shadows,
horrible and indistinct. His naturally sensitive and sanguine
temperament, as prone to the anticipation of evil as of delight, was a
curse, and not a blessing. Departed hopes may fling a deeper shadow even
on the brow of Despair!--and rayless was the night which visited his
spirit. It was now too evident--for he was no novice in the
science--that his admiration had awakened one dormant but hallowed
affection, long lulled in the soft lap of pleasure. The maiden, with
whom it was his sole aim to pass a few hours of pleasantry and
amusement, had enthralled him by so sudden a spell, that he was more
than half inclined to believe in the boasted skill and exploits of the
sex, which has rendered Lancashire so famous. Her unaccountable absence
impressed itself strangely upon his thoughts. He was in love!--and he
writhed at the discovery; but he would have given worlds just then to
have proclaimed it at his mistress's feet.
Scarcely conscious how the night wore on, he was obliged to act his
part. Supper was announced; and he took his station where he could see
the guests unmask as they entered to the banquet.
The tables were nearly filled, but the Silver Knight and his fair lady
were still absent. Grace Gerard is doubtless in her own chamber, was the
host's reply to some inquiry from Sir John:--she had craved excuse from
some slight indisposition. But this did not satisfy him to whom it was
addressed: he suspected her chamber would be found unoccupied;--his
heart felt wasted and desolate;--it was as if the whole fair face of
nature were blotted out,--the light being gone which rendered it
visible.
"What ho!" said the king, "bring my Sienna knight a cup of hot sack and
a merry-thought, for he seems melancholic and watchful--a wary eye, but
a silent tongue. Sir John, are your wits a wool-gathering with your
queen?"
"I am in my widowhood, most gracious prince,--my queen having departed."
"More fool thou, to fling thy heart after thy wits. Come, honest Jack,
we'll have some minstrelsy after the feast,--a merry troll and a short
one."
Sir John was well skilled in handling the lute and rebeck. He had been
early trained to their use; and many a kind glance and tender word he
had won thereby.
The feast was over, and those hushed halls thrilled to the following
ditty:--