FEBRUARY.
"Down with rosemary and bayes,
Down with the mistleto,
Instead of holly, now up-raise
The greener box, for show."
"The holly hitherto did sway;
Let box now domineere,
Untill the dancing Easter-day,
Or Easter's eve appeare."
Hunting--Candlemas Day--St. Blaize's Day--Shrove-tide--
Football--Battledore and Shuttlecock--Cock-throwing.
The fox-hounds often meet in our village during this cheerless
month, and I am reminded by the red coats of the huntsmen, and by
the sound of the cheerful horn, of the sportsmen of ancient days,
who chased the wolf, hart, wild boar, and buck among these same
woods and dales of England. All hearts love to hear the merry sound
of the huntsman's horn, except perhaps that of the hunted fox or
stag. The love of hunting seems ingrained in every Englishman, and
whenever the horsemen appear in sight, or the "music" of the hounds
is heard in the distance, the spade is laid aside, the ploughman
leaves his team, the coachman his stables, the gardener his
greenhouses, books are closed, and every one rushes away to see the
sport. The squire, the farmers, and every one who by hook or by
crook can procure a mount, join in the merry chase, for as an old
poet sings--
"The hunt is up, the hunt is up,
Sing merrily we, the hunt is up;
The birds they sing,
The deer they fling:
Hey, nony, nony-no:
The hounds they cry,
The hunters they fly,
Hey trolilo, trolilo,
The hunt is up."
We English folks come of a very sporting family. The ancient Britons
were expert hunters, and lived chiefly on the prey which they
killed. Our Saxon forefathers loved the chase, and in some very old
Saxon pictures illustrating the occupations of each month we see the
lord, attended by his huntsmen, chasing the wild boars in the woods
and forests. The Saxon king, Edgar, imposed a tribute of wolves'
heads, and Athelstan ordered the payment of fines in hawks and
strong-scented dogs. Edward the Confessor, too, who scorned worldly
amusements, used to take "delight in following a pack of swift dogs,
and in cheering them with his voice." The illustration is taken from
an old illumination which adorned an ancient MS., and represents
some Saxons engaged in unearthing a fox.
[Illustration: HUNTING IN SAXON TIMES (from an ancient MS.).]
When the Normans came to England great changes were made, and
hunting--the favourite sport of the Conqueror--was promoted with a
total disregard of the welfare of the people. Whole villages and
churches were pulled down in order to enlarge the royal forests, and
any one who was rash enough to kill the king's deer would lose his
life or his eyesight. It was not until the reign of Henry III. that
this law was altered. William the Conqueror, who forbade the killing
of deer and of boars, and who "loved the tall stags as though he
were their father," greatly enlarged the New Forest, in Hampshire.
Henry I. built a huge stone wall, seven miles in circumference,
round his favourite park of Woodstock, near Oxford; and if any one
wanted a favour from King John, a grant of privileges, or a new
charter, he would have to pay for it in horses, hawks, or hounds.
The Norman lords were as tyrannical in preserving their game as
their king, and the people suffered greatly through the selfishness
of their rulers. There is a curious MS. in the British Museum,
called _The Craft of Hunting_, written by two followers of Edward
II., which gives instructions with regard to the game to be hunted,
the rules for blowing the horn, the dogs to be used in the chase,
and so on. It is too long to quote, but I may mention that the
animals to be hunted included the hare, hart, wolf, wild boar,
buck, doe, fox ("which oft hath hard grace"), the martin-cat,
roebuck, badger, polecat, and otter. Many of these animals have long
since disappeared through the clearing of the old forests, or been
exterminated on account of the mischief which they did. Our modern
hunters do not enjoy quite such a variety of sport.
Otter-hunting, now very rare, was once a favourite sport among
villagers who dwelt near a river. Isaac Walton, in his book called
_The Complete Angler_, thus describes the animated scene: "Look!
down at the bottom of the hill there, in the meadow, checkered with
water-lilies and lady-smocks; there you may see what work they make;
look! look! you may see all busy--men and dogs--dogs and men--all
busy." At last the otter is found. Then barked the dogs, and shouted
the men! Boatmen pursue the poor animal in the water. Horsemen dash
into the river. The otter dives, and strives to escape; but all in
vain her efforts, and she perishes by the teeth of the dogs or the
huntsmen's spears.
Foreigners are always astonished at our love of sport and hunting,
and our disregard of all danger in the pursuit of our favourite
amusement, and one of our visitors tells the following story: "When
the armies of Henry VIII. and Francis, King of France, were drawn up
against each other, a fox got up, which was immediately pursued by
the English. The 'varmint' ran straight for the French lines, but
the Englishmen would not cease from the chase; the Frenchmen opposed
them, and killed many of these adventurous gentlemen who for the
moment forgot their warfare in the charms of the chase."
But I must proceed to mention other February customs and sports.
Great importance was attached to the Feast of the Purification,
commonly called Candlemas Day (February 2nd), when consecrated
candles were distributed and carried about in procession. At the
Reformation this custom did not entirely disappear, for we find a
proclamation of Henry VIII., in 1539 A.D., which orders that "on
Candlemas Day it shall be declared that the bearing of candles is
done in memory of Christ the spiritual light, whom Simeon did
prophesy, as it is read in the Church on that day." Christmas
decorations were removed from the houses; the holly, rosemary, bay,
and mistletoe disappeared, to make room for sprigs of box, which
remained until Easter brought in the yew. Our ancestors were very
fond of bonfires, and on the 3rd of this month, St. Blaize's Day,[4]
the red flames might be seen darting up from every hilltop. But why
they should do this on that day is not evident, except that the good
Bishop's name sounded something like _blaze_, and perhaps that was
quite a sufficient reason! And why the day of St. Valentine should
have been selected for the drawing lots for sweethearts, and for the
sending affectionate greetings, is another mystery. St. Valentine
was a priest and martyr in Italy in the third century, and had
nothing to do with the popular commemoration of the day.
Now we come to the diversions of Shrove-tide,[5] which immediately
precedes the Lenten Fast. The Monday before Ash Wednesday was called
Collop Monday in the north, because slices of bacon (or collops)
were the recognized dish for dinner. But on Tuesday the chief
amusements began; the bells were rung, pancakes tossed with great
solemnity, and devoured with great satisfaction, as an old writer,
who did not approve of so much feasting, tells us--
"In every house are shouts and cries, and mirth and revel rout,
And dainty tables spread, and all beset with guests about."
He further describes this old English carnival, which must have
rivalled any that we read of on the Continent--
"Some run about the streets attired like monks, and some like
kings,
Accompanied with pomp, and guard, and other stately things.
Some like wild beasts do run abroad in skins that divers be
Arrayed, and eke with loathsome shapes, that dreadful are to
see,
They counterfeit both bears and wolves, and lions fierce in
sight,
And raging bulls; some play the cranes, with wings and stilts
upright."
But the great game for Shrove Tuesday was our time-honoured
football, which has survived so many of the ancient pastimes of our
land, and may be considered the oldest of all our English national
sports. The play might not be quite so scientific as that played by
our modern athletes, but, from the descriptions that have come down
to us, it was no less vigorous. "After dinner" (says an old writer)
"all the youths go into the fields to play at the ball. The ancient
and worthy men of the city come forth on horseback to see the sport
of the young men, and to take part of the pleasure in beholding
their agility." There are some exciting descriptions of old football
matches; and we read of some very fierce contests at Derby, which
was renowned for the game. In the seventeenth century it was played
in the streets of London, much to the annoyance of the inhabitants,
who had to protect their windows with hurdles and bushes. At
Bromfield, in Cumberland, the annual contest on Shrove Tuesday was
keenly fought. Sides having been chosen, the football was thrown
down in the churchyard, and the house of the captain of each side
was the goal. Sometimes the distance was two or three miles, and
each step was keenly disputed. He was a proud man at Bromfield who
succeeded in reaching the goal with the ball, which he received as
his guerdon. How the villagers used to talk over the exploits of the
day, and recount their triumphs of former years with quite as much
satisfaction as their ancestors enjoyed in relating their feats in
the border wars!
The Scots were famous formerly, as they now are, for prowess in the
game, and the account of the Shrove Tuesday match between the
married and single men at Scone, in Perthshire, reads very like a
description of a modern Rugby contest. At Inverness the women also
played, the married against the unmarried, when the former were
always victorious. King James I., who was a great patron of sports,
did not approve of his son Henry being a football player. He wrote
that a young man ought to have a "moderate practice of running,
leaping, wrestling, fencing, dancing, and playing at the caitch, or
tennis, bowls, archery, pall-mall, and riding; and in foul or stormy
weather, cards and backgammon, dice, chess, and billiards," but
football was too rough a game for his Majesty, and "meeter for
laming than making able." Stubbs also speaks of it as a "bloody and
murthering practice, rather than a fellowly sport or pastime." From
the descriptions of the old games, it seems to have been very
painful work for the shins, and there were no rules to prevent
hacking and tripping in those days.
Football has never been the spoilt child of English pastimes, but
has lived on in spite of royal proclamations and the protests of
peace-loving citizens who objected to the noise, rough play, and
other vagaries of the early votaries of the game. Edward II. and
succeeding monarchs regarded it as a "useless and idle sport," which
interfered with the practice of archery, and therefore ought to be
shunned by all loyal subjects. The violence displayed at the matches
is evident from the records which have come down to us, and from the
opinions of several writers who condemn it severely. Free fights,
broken limbs, and deaths often resulted from old football
encounters; and when the games took place in the streets, lines of
broken windows marked the progress of the players. "A bloody and
murdering practice," "a devilish pastime," involving "beastly fury
and extreme violence," the breaking of necks, arms, legs and
backs--these were some of the descriptions of the football of olden
times. The Puritans set their faces against it, and the sport
languished for a long period as a general pastime. In some places it
was still practised with unwonted vigour, but it was not until the
second half of the present century that any revival took place. But
football players have quickly made up for lost time; few villages do
not possess their club, and our young men are ready to "Try it out
at football by the shins," with quite as much readiness as the
players in the good old days, although the play is generally less
violent, and more scientific.
Hurling, too, was a fast and furious game, very similar to our game
of hockey, and played with sticks and a ball. Two neighbouring
parishes used to compete, and the object was to drive the ball from
some central spot to one, or other, village. The contest was keen
and exciting; a ball was driven backwards and forwards, over hills,
dales, hedges, and ditches, through bushes, briars, mires, plashes,
and rivers, until at length the wished-for goal was gained.
Battledore and shuttlecock were favourite games for the girls, which
they played singing quaint rhymes--
"Great A, little A;
This is pancake day!"
and the men also indulged in tip-cat, or billet.
There is one other custom, of a most barbarous and cruel
description, which was practised on Shrove Tuesday by our
forefathers, and which happily has perished,[6] and that was
throwing at cocks or hens with sticks. The poor bird was tied by the
leg, and its tormentors stood twenty-two yards distant and had three
throws each for twopence, winning the bird if they could knock it
down. The cock was trained beforehand to avoid the sticks, so as to
win more money for its brutal master. Well might a learned
foreigner remark, "The English eat a certain cake on Shrove Tuesday,
upon which they immediately run mad, and kill their poor cocks."
Cock-fighting was a favourite amusement on Shrove Tuesday, as well
as at other times. This shameful and barbarous practice was
continued until the eighteenth century; some of our kings took
delight in it, and in the old grammar schools in the North of
England it was sanctioned by the masters, who received from their
scholars a small tax called "cock-fight dues." Happily, with
bull-baiting, bear-baiting, dog-fighting, and the like, this cruel
and brutal pastime has ceased to exist. If we have lost some of the
simple joys and cheerful light-heartedness of our forefathers, we
have also happily lost some of their cruel disregard for the
sufferings of animals, and abandoned such barbarous amusements as I
have tried to describe. But the old sports of England were not all
like these; the archery, running, leaping, wrestling, football, and
other games in which our ancestors delighted, made the young men of
England a manly and a sturdy race, and our nation mainly owes its
greatness to the courage, manliness, and daring of her sons.
But Ash Wednesday has dawned, and all is still in town and village.
The Shrove-tide feast is ended, and the days of fasting and of
prayer have hushed the sounds of merriment and song.