CHAPTER VII.

MANNERS AND CUSTOMS OF THE COUNTRY

CONTINUED—WAKES—FAIRS—WEDDINGS—BURIALS.

Having described, in as brief a manner as was consistent with the

nature of our work, the various circumstances accompanying the

celebration of the most remarkable holidays and festivals, in

the country, during the age of Shakspeare, from whose inimitable

compositions we have drawn many pertinent illustrations on nearly

all the subjects as they passed before us; we shall proceed, in the

present chapter, to notice those remaining topics which are calculated

to complete, on the scale adopted, a tolerably correct view of rural

manners and customs, as they existed in the latter half of the

sixteenth, and prior portion of the seventeenth, century.

A natural transition will carry us, from the description of the rural

festival, to the gaieties of the WAKE or FAIR. Of these terms, indeed,

the former originally implied the vigil which preceded the festival in

honour of the Saint to whom the parish-church was dedicated; for "on

the Eve of this day," remarks Mr. Borlase, in his Cornwall, "prayers

were said, and hymns were sung all night in the church; and from

these watchings the festivals were stiled _Wakes_; which name still

continues in many parts of England, though the vigils have been long

abolished."[209:A] The religious institution, however, of the _Wake_,

whether held on the vigil or Saint's day, was soon forgotten; mirth

and feasting early became the chief objects of this meeting[209:B],

and it, at length, degenerated into something approaching towards a

secular Fair. These Wakes or Fairs, which were rendered more popular in

proportion as they deviated from their devotional origin, were, until

the reign of Henry the Sixth, always held on a Sunday and its eve, a

custom that continued to be partially observed as late as the middle of

the seventeenth century; hence ale-houses, and places of public resort,

in the immediate neighbourhood of church-yards, the former scene of

Wakes, were still common at the close of Shakspeare's life; thus Sir

Thomas Overbury, describing a Sexton, in his _Characters_, published

in 1616, says: "At every church-style commonly there's an ale-house;

where let him (the Sexton) bee found never so idle-pated, hee is still

a grave drunkard."

The increasing licentiousness and conviviality, however, which attended

these church-yard assemblies, frequented as they were by pedlars and

hawkers of every description, finally occasioned their suppression

in all places, at least, where much traffic was expected. In their

room regular Fairs were established, to which in central or peculiar

stations, the resort, at fixed periods, was immense.

Yet the _Wake_, the meeting for mere festivity and frolic, still

continued in every village and small town, and though not preceded by

any vigil in the church, was popularly termed the _Wake-Day_. Tusser,

in his catalogue of the "Old Guise," has not forgotten this season of

merriment; on the contrary, he seems to welcome its return with much

cordiality:—

"Fil oven ful of flawnes, Ginnie passe not for sleepe,

to morrow thy father his wake-daie wil keepe:

Then every wanton may danse at hir wil,

both Tomkin and Tomlin, and Jankin with Gil."[210:A]

Mr. Hilman, in his edition of Tusser, has made the following

observations on this passage.—"Waking in the church," says he, "was

left off because of some abuses, and we see here it was converted to

wakeing at the oven. The other continued down to our author's days, and

in a great many places continues still to be observed with all sorts

of rural merriments; such as dancing, wrestling, cudgel-playing, &c."

Bourne observes, that the feasting and sporting, on this occasion,

usually lasted for two or three days[211:A]; and Bishop Hall gives

an impressive idea of the revelry and glee which distinguished these

rural assemblages, when he exclaims, "What should I speak of our _merry

Wakes_, and May games—in all which put together, you may well say,

no Greek can be _merrier_ than they."[211:B] Indeed from one end of

the kingdom to the other, from north to south, it would appear, that,

among the country-villages, during the reigns of Elizabeth and her two

immediate successors, Wakes formed one of the principal amusements

of the peasantry, and were anticipated with much eagerness and

expectation. In confirmation of this we need only remark that Drayton,

speaking of Lancashire, declares, that

—— "every village smokes at _wakes_ with lusty cheer;"[211:C]

and that Herrick, in Devonshire, has written a very curious little

poem, entitled _The Wake_, which, as strikingly descriptive of the

various business of this festivity, claims here an introduction:—

"Come Anthea, let us two

Go to feast, as others do.

Tarts and custards, creams and cakes,

Are the junketts still at _Wakes_:

Unto which the tribes resort,

Where the businesse is the sport:

Morris-dancers thou shalt see,

Marian too in pagentrie:

And a Mimick to devise

Many grinning properties.

Players there will be, and those

Base in action as in clothes:

Yet with strutting they will please

The incurious villages.

Neer the dying of the day,

There will be a cudgell-play,

Where a coxcomb will be broke,

Ere a good _word_ can be spoke:

But the anger ends all here,

Drencht in ale, or drown'd in beere.

Happy Rusticks, best content

With the cheapest merriment:

And possesse no other feare,

Than to want the _Wake_ next yeare."[212:A]

Of the pedlars or hawkers who, in general, formed a constituent part of

these _village-wakes_ an accurate idea may be drawn from the character

of the pedlar Autolycus, in the _Winter's Tale_ of Shakspeare, who is

delineated with the poet's customary strength of pencil, rich humour,

and fidelity to nature. The wares in which he dealt are curiously

enumerated in the following passages:—

"_Serv._ He hath songs, for men, or women, of all sizes; no

milliner can so fit his customers with gloves[212:B]: he has

the prettiest love-songs for maids; he hath ribands of all

the colours i' the rainbow; points more than all the lawyers

in Bohemia can learnedly handle, though they come to him

by the gross; inkles, caddisses[212:C], cambricks, lawns:

why, he sings them over, as they were gods or goddesses: you

would think, a smock were a she-angel; he so chants to the

sleeve-hand, and the work about the square on't."[212:D]

"_Enter Autolycus, singing._

"Lawn, as white as driven snow;

Cyprus, black as e'er was crow;

Gloves as sweet as damask roses;

Masks for faces, and for noses;

Bugle bracelet, necklace-amber,

Perfume for a lady's chamber:

Golden quoifs, and stomachers,

For my lads to give their dears;

Pins and poking-sticks of steel,

What maids lack from head to heel:

Come, buy of me, come; come buy, come buy;

Buy, lads, or else your lasses cry;

Come buy, &c."[213:A]

At the close of the feast Autolycus is represented as re-entering,

and declaring "Ha, ha! what a fool honesty is! and trust, his sworn

brother, a very simple gentleman! I have sold all my trumpery; not

a counterfeit stone, not a riband, glass, pomander[213:B], brooch,

table-book, ballad, knife, tape, glove, shoe-tye, bracelet, horn-ring,

to keep my pack from fasting: they throng who should buy first; as

if my trinkets had been hallowed, and brought a benediction to the

buyer."[213:C]

In the North, the Village-Wake is still kept up, under the title of

_The Hopping_, a word derived from the Anglo-Saxon, and thus applied,

because dancing was the favourite amusement of these meetings. The

reign of Elizabeth, indeed, was marked by a peculiar propensity to

this exercise, and neither wake nor feast could be properly celebrated

without the country lads and lasses footing it on the green or yard, or

in bad weather, in the Manor-hall.

In an old play, entitled "A Woman Killed With Kindness," the production

of Thomas Heywood, and acted in 1604, is to be found a very humorous

description of one of these _Hoppings_, and particularly curious, as it

enumerates the names of the dances then in vogue among these rustic

performers. The poet, after remarking that now

————————— "the mad lads

And country lasses, every mother's child,

With nosegays and bride laces in their hats,

Dance all their country measures, rounds and jigs,"

thus introduces his couples:

"_Jenkin._ Come, Nick, take you Joan Miniver to trace withal;

Jack Slime, traverse you with Sisly Milk-pail; I will take Jane

Trubkin, and Roger Brickbat shall have Isabel Motley; and now

strike up; we'll have a crash here in the yard.—

_Jack Slime._ Foot it quickly; if the music overcome not my

melancholy, I shall quarrel; and if they do not suddenly strike

up, I shall presently strike them down.

_Jen._ No quarrelling, for God's sake: truly, if you do, I

shall set a knave between ye.

_Jack Slime._ I come to dance, not to quarrel; come, what shall

it be? Rogero?

_Jen._ Rogero! no; we will dance 'The Beginning of the World.'

_Sisly._ I love no dance so well, as 'John, come kiss me now.'

_Nicholas._ I have ere now deserved a cushion; call for the

Cushion-dance.

_R. Brick._ For my part, I like nothing so well as 'Tom Tyler.'

_Jen._ No; we'll have 'The hunting of the Fox.'

_Jack Slime._ 'The Hay! the Hay!' there's nothing like 'The

Hay.'

_Nich._ I have said, do say, and will say again.

_Jen._ Every man agree to have it as Nick says.

_All._ Content.

_Nich._ It hath been, it now is, and it shall be.

_Sisly._ What? Mr. Nicholas? What?

_Nich._ 'Put on your smock a Monday.'

_Jen._ So, the dance will come cleanly off: come, for God's

sake, agree of something; if you like not that, put it to the

musicians; or let me speak for all, and we'll have 'Sellenger's

Round.'

_All._ That, that, that!

_Nich._ No, I am resolved, thus it shall be. First take hands,

then take ye to your heels.

_Jen._ Why, would you have us run away?

_Nich._ No; but I would have you shake your heels. Music,

strike up.

_They dance._"[214:A]

The _Fair_ or greater wake was usually held, as hath been observed, in

a central situation, and its period and duration were, as at present,

proclaimed by law. It was a scene of extensive business as well as

of pleasure; for before provincial cities had attained either wealth

or consequence, all communication between them was difficult, and

neither the necessaries nor the elegances of life could be procured

but at stated times, and at fixed depôts. It was usual, therefore, to

go fifty or a hundred miles to one of these fairs, in order both to

purchase goods and accommodations for the ensuing year, and to dispose

of the superfluous products of art or cultivation. In the reign of

Henry VI. the monks of the priories of Maxtoke in Warwickshire, and

of Bicester in Oxfordshire, laid in their annual stores of common

necessaries at Sturbridge Fair in Cambridgeshire, at least one hundred

miles distant, and notwithstanding the two cities of Oxford and

Coventry were in their immediate neighbourhood.[215:A] In the reign of

Henry VIII., it appears, from the Household-Book of Henry Percy, fifth

Earl of Northumberland, that His Lordship's family were supplied with

necessaries for the whole year from fairs. "He that stands charged

with my Lordes House for the houll Yeir, if he maye possible, shall

be at all Faires, where the greice Emptions shall be boughte for the

House for the houll Yeir, as Wine, Wax, Beiffes, Muttons, Wheite and

Malt[215:B];" and, in the reign of Elizabeth, Tusser recommends to his

farmer the same plan, both for purchase and sale:

"At Bartilmewtide, or at Sturbridge faire,

buie that as is needful, thy house to repaire:

Then sel to thy profit, both butter and cheese,

who buieth it sooner, the more he shall leese."[215:C]

That this custom prevailed until the commencement of the eighteenth

century, and to nearly the same extent, is evident from a note on the

just quoted lines of Tusser by Mr. Hilman. "Sturbridge Fair," says

he, "stocks the country (namely, Norfolk, Suffolk, and Essex,) with

clothes, and all other houshold necessaries; and they (the farmers)

again, sell their butter and cheese, and whatever else remains on their

hands; nay, there the shopkeepers supply themselves with divers sorts

of commodities."

In the third year, indeed, of James I., Sturbridge Fair began to

acquire such celebrity, that hackney coaches attended it from London;

and it subsequently became so extensive that for several years not less

than sixty coaches have been known to ply at this fair, then esteemed

the largest in England.

Sturbridge Fair is still annually proclaimed, but now in such a state

of decline, that its extinction, at least in a commercial light, cannot

be far distant.

To these brief notices of wakes and fairs, it may be necessary to

subjoin a slight detail of the state of _Country-Inns_ and Ale-houses

during the age of Shakspeare.

To "take mine ease in mine inn" is a proverbial phrase, which the

poet has placed in the mouth of Falstaff[216:A], and which implies a

degree of comfort which has always been the peculiar attribute of an

English house of public entertainment. That it was not less felt and

enjoyed in Shakspeare's time than in our own, is very apparent from the

accounts which have been left us by Harrison and Fynes Moryson; the

former writing towards the close of the sixteenth, and the latter at

the commencement of the seventeenth century. These descriptions, which

are curiously faithful and highly interesting, paint the provincial

hostelries of England as in a most flourishing state, and, according

to Harrison, indeed, greatly superior to those which existed in the

metropolis.

"Those townes," says the historian, "that we call thorowfaires, have

great and sumptuous innes builded in them, for the receiving of such

travellers and strangers as passe to and fro. The manner of harbouring

wherein, is not like to that of some other countries, in which the

host or goodman of the house dooth chalenge a lordlie authoritie over

his ghests, but clean otherwise, sith every man may use his inne as

his owne house in England, and have for his monie how great or little

varietie of vittels, and what other service himselfe shall thinke

expedient to call for. Our innes are also verie well furnished with

naperie, bedding, and tapisserie, especiallie with naperie: for beside

the linnen used at the tables, which is commonlie washed dailie, is

such and so much as belongeth unto the estate and calling of the ghest.

Ech commer is sure to lie in cleane sheets, wherein no man hath béene

lodged since they came from the landresse, or out of the water wherein

they were last washed. If the traveller have an horsse, his bed dooth

cost him nothing, but if he go on foote he is sure to paie a penie for

the same: but whether he be horsseman or footman if his chamber be once

appointed he may carie the kaie with him, as of his owne house so long

as he lodgeth there. It he loose oughts whilest he abideth in the inne,

the host is bound by a generall custome to restore the damage, so that

there is no greater securitie anie where for travellers than in the

gretest ins of England." He then, after enumerating the depredations

to which travellers are subject on the road, completes the picture by

the following additional touches. "In all innes we have plentie of ale,

biere, and sundrie kinds of wine, and such is the capacitie of some of

them, that they are able to lodge two hundred or three hundred persons,

and their horsses at ease, and thereto with a verie short warning make

such provision for their diet, as to him that is unacquainted withall

may seeme to be incredible. And it is a world to see how ech owner of

them contendeth with other for goodnesse of interteinment of their

ghests, as about finesse and change of linnen, furniture of bedding,

beautie of rooms, service at the table, costlinesse of plate, strength

of drinke, varietie of wines, or well using of horsses. Finallie

there is not so much omitted among them as the gorgeousnes of their

verie signes at their doores, wherein some doo consume thirtie or

fortie pounds, a meere vanitie in mine opinion, but so vaine will they

needs be, and that not onelie to give some outward token of the inne

keeper's welth, but also to procure good ghests to the frequenting of

their houses, in hope there to be well used."[218:A]

"As soone as a passenger comes to an inne," remarks Moryson, "the

servants run to him, and one takes his horse and walkes him till he be

cold, then rubs him down, and gives him meat. Another servant gives

the passenger his private chamber, and kindles his fire; the third

pulls off his bootes and makes them cleane; then the host or hostess

visits him; and if he will eate with the hoste, or at a common table

with others, his meale will cost him sixpence, or in some places but

four-pence; but if he will eate in his chamber he commands what meate

he will according to his appetite; yea the kitchin is open to him to

order the meate to be dressed as he likes beste. After having eaten

what he pleases, he may, with credit, set by a part for the next day's

breakfast. His bill will then be written for him, and, should he object

to any charge, the host is ready to alter it."[218:B]

Taverns and ale-houses were frequently distinguished in Shakspeare's

time by a _bush or tuft of ivy_ at their doors; a custom which more

particularly prevailed in Warwickshire, and is still practised,

remarks Mr. Ritson, in this county "at statute-hirings, wakes, &c.

by people who sell ale at no other time."[218:C] The poet alludes

to this observance in his Epilogue to _As You Like It_:—"If it be

true," he says, "that _Good wine needs no bush_, 'tis true, that

a good play needs no epilogue: _Yet to good wine they do use good

bushes_."[218:D] Several old plays mention the same custom, and Bishop

Earle, in his _Microcosmography_, tells us that "A Tavern is a degree,

or (if you will) a pair of stairs above an ale-house, where men are

drunk with more credit and apology. If the vintner's rose be at door,

it is a sign sufficient, but the absence of this is supplied by the

_ivy-bush_."[218:E]

That houses of this description, the whole furniture of which,

according to Earle, consisted but of a stool, a table, and a [219:A]pot

de chambre, were as numerous two hundred years ago as at present, and

the scene of the same disgusting and intemperate orgies, is but too

apparent from the invective of Robert Burton:—"See the mischief," he

exclaims; "many men knowing that merry company is the only medicine

against melancholy, will therefore neglect their business, and in

another extream, spend all their dayes among good fellows, in a Tavern

or an Ale-house, and know not otherwise how to bestow their time but

in drinking; malt-worms, men fishes, or water-snakes, _Qui bibunt

solum ranarum more, nihil comedentes_, like so many frogs in a puddle.

'Tis their sole exercise to eat, and drink; to sacrifice to _Volupia_,

_Rumina_, _Edulica_, _Potina_, _Mellona_, is all their religion. They

wish for _Philoxenus'_ neck, _Jupiter's trinoctium_, and that the sun

would stand still as in _Joshua's_ time, to satisfie their lust, that

they might _dies noctesque pergræcari et bibere_. Flourishing wits,

and men of good parts, good fashion, and good worth, basely prostitute

themselves to every rogues company, to take tobacco and drink, to roar

and sing scurrile songs in base places.

"_Invenies aliquem cum percussore jacentem,

Permistum nautis, aut furibus, aut fugitivis._"

Juvenal.

"What _Thomas Erastus_ objects to _Paracelsus_, that he would lye

drinking all day long with carr-men and tapsters in a Brothel-house, is

too frequent amongst us, with men of better note: like _Timocreon_ of

_Rhodes_, _multa bibens, et multa vorans_, &c. They drown their wits

and seeth their brains in ale."[219:B]

Few ceremonies are better calculated to throw light on the manners and

customs of a country, than those attendant on WEDDINGS and BURIALS,

and with these, as they occurred in _rural life_, during the reigns of

Elizabeth and James, we shall close this chapter.

The style of courtship which prevailed in Shakspeare's time, may be

drawn, with considerable accuracy, from the numerous love-dialogues

interspersed throughout his plays. From these specimens not much

disparity, either in language or manner, appears to have existed

between the addresses of the courtier and the country-gentleman; the

female character was indeed, at this period, greatly less important

than at present; the blandishments of gallantry, and the elegancies of

compliment were little known, and consequently the expression of the

tender passion admitted of neither much variety nor much polish. The

amatory dialogues of Hamlet, Hotspur, and Henry the Fifth, are not more

refined than those which occur between Master Fenton and Anne Page,

in the _Merry Wives of Windsor_; between Lorenzo and Jessica in the

_Merchant of Venice_, and between Orlando and Rosalind, in _As You Like

It_. These last, which may be considered as instances taken from the

middle class of life, together with a few drawn from the lower rank

of rural manners, such as the courtship of Touchstone and Audrey, and

of Silvius and Phœbe, in _As You Like It_, will sufficiently apply

to the illustration of our present subject; but it must be remarked

that, in point of fancy, sentiment, and simplicity, the most pleasing

love-scenes in Shakspeare are those that take place between Romeo and

Juliet, and between Florizel and Perdita; the latter especially present

a most lovely and engaging picture, on the female side, of pastoral

naïveté and sweetness; and will, in part, serve to show, how far, in

the opinion of Shakspeare, refinement was, at that time, compatible, as

a just representation of nature, with cottage-life.

_Betrothing_ or _plighting of troth_, as an _affiance_ or _promise of

future marriage_, was still, there is reason to suppose, often observed

in Shakspeare's time, especially in the country, and as a _private_

rite. The interchange of rings was the ceremony used on this occasion,

to which the poet refers in his _Two Gentlemen of Verona_:

"_Julia._ Keep this remembrance for thy Julia's sake.

(_Giving a ring._)

_Pro._ Why then we'll make exchange; here take you this.

_Jul._ And seal the bargain with a holy kiss."[220:A]

The _public_ celebration of this contract, or what was termed

_espousals_[221:A], was formerly in this country, as well as upon the

continent, a constant preliminary to marriage. It usually took place in

the church, and though nearly, if not altogether, disused, towards the

close of the fifteenth century, is minutely described by Shakspeare in

his _Twelfth Night_. Olivia, addressing Sebastian, says,—

"Now go with me, and with this holy man,

Into the chantry by: there _before him_

And underneath that _consecrated roof

Plight me the full assurance of your faith_;

That my most jealous and too doubtful soul

May live at peace. He shall conceal it

Whiles you are willing it shall come to note;

What time we will our _celebration_ keep

According to my birth."[221:B]

A description of what passed at this ceremony of espousals or

betrothing, is given by the priest himself in the first scene of the

subsequent act, who calls it

"A contract of eternal bond of love

Confirm'd by _mutual joinder of your hands_,

Attested by the _holy close of lips_,

Strengthened by _interchangement of your rings_;

And all the ceremony of this compact

Seal'd in my function, by _my testimony_."[221:C]

These four observances, therefore; 1st, _the joining of hands_; 2dly,

the _mutually given kiss_; 3dly, the _interchangement of rings_; and

4thly, the _testimony of witnesses_: appear to have been essential

parts of the public ceremony of betrothing or espousals, which usually

preceded the marriage rite by the term of forty days. The oath indeed,

administered on this occasion, was to the following effect:—"You swear

by God and his holy saints herein and by all the saints of Paradise,

that you will take this woman whose name is N. to wife within forty

days, if holy church will permit." The priest then joining their

hands, said—"And thus you affiance yourselves;" to which the parties

answered,—"Yes, sir."[222:A] So frequently has Shakspeare referred to

this custom of troth-plighting, that, either privately or publickly,

we must conclude it to have been of common usage in his days: thus, in

_Measure for Measure_, Mariana says to Angelo,

"This is the _hand_, which with a _vow'd contract_,

Was fast belock'd in thine:"[222:B]

and then addressing the duke, she exclaims,

"As there is sense in truth, and truth in virtue,

I am _affianc'd_ this man's wife."[222:C]

So in _King John_, King Philip, and the Arch-duke of Austria,

encouraging the connection of the Dauphin and Blanch:

"_K. Phil._ It likes us well;—Young princes, _close your hands_.

_Aust._ And your _lips_ too; for, I am well assur'd,

That I did so, when I was first _assur'd_."[222:D]

One immoral consequence arising from this custom of public betrothing

was, that the parties, depending upon the priest as a witness,

frequently cohabited as man and wife. It would appear, indeed, from a

passage in Shakspeare, that the ceremony of troth-plight, at least

among the lower orders, was considered as a sufficient warrant for

intercourse of this kind; for he makes the jealous Leontes, in his

_Winter's Tale_, exclaim,

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

As rank as any flax-wench, that _puts to

Before her troth-plight_."[223:A]

We must not forget, however, to remark, while on the subject of

betrothing, that a singular proof of delicacy and attention to the fair

sex, on this occasion, during the sixteenth century, has been quoted by

Mr. Strutt, from a manuscript in the Harleian library, and which runs

thus: "By the civil law, whatever is given _ex sponsalitia largitate,

betwixt them that are promised in marriage_, hath a condition, for the

most part silent, that it may be had again if marriage ensue not; but

if the man should have had a kiss for his money, he should lose one

half of what he gave. Yet with the woman it is otherwise; for kissing

or not kissing, whatever she gave, she may have it again."[223:B]

Concerning the customs attendant on the celebration of the _marriage

rite_, among the middle and inferior ranks, in the country, during

the period which we are endeavouring to illustrate, much information,

of the description we want, may be found in Shakspeare and his

contemporaries.

The procession accompanying a rural bride, of some consequence, or of

the middle rank, to church, has been thus given us:—"The bride being

attired in a gown of sheep's russet, and a kirtle of fine worsted, her

hair attired with a 'billement of gold, and her hair as yellow as gold

hanging down behind her, which was curiously combed and plaited, she

was led to church between two sweet boys, with bride laces and rosemary

tied about their silken sleeves. There was a fair bride-cup of silver,

gilt, carried before her, wherein was a goodly branch of rosemary,

gilded very fair, hung about with silken ribbands of all colours.

Musicians came next, then a groupe of maidens, some bearing great

bride-cakes, others garlands of wheat finely gilded; and thus they

passed on to the church."[224:A]

Rosemary being supposed to strengthen the memory, was considered as an

emblem of fidelity, and, at this period, was almost as constantly used

at weddings as at funerals: "There's rosemary," says Ophelia, "that's

for remembrance."[224:B] Many passages, illustrative of this usage at

weddings, might be taken from our old plays, during the reign of James

I., but two or three will suffice.

—— "will I be _wed_ this morning,

Thou shalt not be there, nor once be graced with

A piece of _rosemary_."[224:C]

"Were the _rosemary_ branches dipp'd, and all

The hippocras and cakes eat and drunk off;

Were these two arms encompass'd with the hands

Of bachelors to lead me to the church."[224:D]

"_Phis._ Your master is to be married to-day?

_Trim._ Else all this _rosemary_ is lost."[224:E]

Of the peculiarities attending the marriage-ceremony within the

church, a pretty good idea may be formed from the ludicrous wedding

of Catharine and Petruchio in the _Taming of the Shrew_. It appears

from this description, that it was usual to drink wine at the altar

immediately after the service was closed, a custom which was followed

by the Bridegroom's saluting the bride.

"He calls for wine:—A health, quoth he; as if

He had been aboard, carousing to his mates

After a storm:—Quaff'd off the muscadel,

And threw the sops all in the sexton's face;—

This done, he took the bride about the neck;

And kiss'd her lips with such a clamorous smack,

That, at the parting, all the church did echo."[225:A]

In the account of the procession just quoted, we find that a bride-cup

was carried before the bride; out of this all the persons present,

together with the new-married couple, were expected to drink in the

church. This custom was prevalent, in Shakspeare's time, among every

description of people, from the regal head to the thorough-paced

rustic; accordingly we are informed, on the testimony of an assisting

witness, that the same ceremony took place at the marriage of the

Elector Palatine to King James's daughter, on the 14th day of February,

1612-13: there was "in conclusion," he relates, "a joy pronounced by

the king and queen, and seconded with congratulation of the lords there

present, which crowned with draughts of _Ippocras_ out of a _great

golden bowle_, as an health to the prosperity of the marriage, (began

by the prince Palatine and answered by the princess.) After which were

served up by six or seven barons so many bowles filled with wafers, so

much of that work was consummate."[225:B]

This _bride-cup_ or _bowl_ was, therefore, frequently termed the

_knitting_ or _contracting cup_: thus in Ben Jonson's _Magnetick

Lady_, _Compass_ says to _Practise_, after enquiring for a licence,

———————— "Mind

The Parson's pint t'engage him—

A _knitting-cup_ there must be;"[226:A]

and Middleton, in one of his Comedies, gives us the following line:—

"Even when my lip touch'd the _contracting cup_."[226:B]

The salutation of the Bride at the altar was a very ancient custom, and

is referred to by several of the contemporaries of Shakspeare; Marston,

for instance, represents one of his female characters saying,

"The _kisse thou gav'st me in the church_, here take."[226:C]

It was still customary at this period, to bless the bridal bed at

night, in order to dissipate the supposed illusions of the Devil; a

superstitious rite of which Mr. Douce has favoured us with the form,

taken from the Manual for the use of Salisbury in the 13th[226:D]

century. It is noticed by Chaucer also in his _Marchantes Tale_, and is

mentioned as one of the marriage-ceremonies in the "Articles ordained

by King Henry VII. for the regulation of his Household."[226:E]

Shakspeare alludes to this ridiculous fashion in the person of Oberon,

who tells his fairies,

"To the best _bride-bed_ will we,

Which by us shall blessed be."[226:F]

To this brief description of marriage-ceremonies, it will be necessary

to subjoin some account of those which accompanied the _mere rustic_

wedding, or _Bride-ale_; and fortunately we have a most curious

picture of the kind preserved by Laneham, in his _Letter on the Queens

Entertainment at Kenelworth Castle_, in 1575, one part of which was the

representation of a _country Bride-ale_ set in order in the Tylt-yard,

and exhibited in the great court of the castle. This grotesque piece

of pageantry, a faithful draught of rural costume, as it then existed,

must have afforded Her Majesty no small degree of amusement.

"Thus were they marshalled. First, all the lustie lads and bold

bachelors of the parish, suitably every wight with his blue buckram

bridelace upon a branch of green broom (cause rosemary is scant there)

tied on his left arm (for a that side lies the heart), and his alder

poll for a spear in his right hand, in martial order ranged on afore,

two and two in a rank: Some with a hat, some in a cap, some a coat,

some a jerkin, some for lightness in his doublet and his hose, clean

trust with a point afore: Some boots and no spurs, he spurs and no

boots, and he neither one nor t'other: One a saddle, another a pail

or a pannel fastened with a cord, for girts wear geazon: And these

to the number of a sixteen wight riding men and well beseem: But the

bridegroom foremost, in his father's tawny worsted jacket (for his

friends were fain that he should be a bridegroom before the _Queen_), a

fair straw hat with a capital crown, steeple-wise on his head: a pair

of harvest gloves on his hands, as a sign of good husbandry: A pen and

inkhorn at his back; for he would be known to be bookish: lame of a

leg, that in his youth was broken at foot-ball: Well beloved yet of his

mother, that lent him a new mufflar for a napkin that was tied to his

girdle for losing. It was no small sport to mark this minion in his

full appointment, that through good schoolation became as formal in his

action, as had he been a bridegroom indeed; with this special grace by

the way, that ever as he would have framed him the better countenance,

with the worse face he looked.

"Well, Sir, after these horsemen, a lively morrice-dance, according

to the ancient manner; six dancers, maid-marian, and the fool. Then

three pretty puzels, (maids or damsels from _pucelle_) as bright as

a breast of bacon, of a thirty year old a piece, that carried three

special spice-cakes of a bushel of wheat (they had it by measure out of

my _Lords_ backhouse), before the bride: Cicely with set countinance,

and lips so demurely simpering, as it had been a mare cropping of a

thistle. After these, a lovely lubber woorts[228:A], freckle-faced,

red-headed, clean trussed in his doublet and his hose taken up now

indeed by commission, for that he was so loth to come forward, for

reverence belike of his new cut canvass doublet; and would by his

good will have been but a gazer, but found to be a meet actor for

his office: That was to bear the bride-cup, formed of a sweet sucket

barrel, a faire-turned foot set to it, all seemly besilvered and

parcel gilt, adorned with a beautiful branch of broom, gayly begilded

for rosemary; from which, two broad bride laces of red and yellow

buckeram begilded, and gallantly streaming by such wind as there was,

for he carried it aloft: This gentle cup-bearer, yet had his freckled

physiognomy somewhat unhappily infested as he went, by the busy flies,

that flocked about the bride-cup for the sweetness of the sucket that

it savoured on; but he, like a tall fellow, withstood their malice

stoutly (see what manhood may do), beat them away, killed them by

scores, stood to his charge, and marched on in good order.

"Then followed the worshipful bride, led (after the country manner)

between two ancient parishioners, honest townsmen. But a stale

stallion, and a well spred, (hot as the weather was) God wot, and ill

smelling was she; a thirty-five year old, of colour brown-bay not very

beautiful indeed, but ugly, foul ill favoured; yet marvellous vain of

the office, because she heard say she should dance before the _Queen_,

in which feat she thought she would foot it as finely as the best:

Well, after this bride, came there by two and two, a dozen damsels for

bride-maids; that for favor, attyre, for fashion and cleanliness, were

as meet for such a bride as a treen ladle for a porridge-pot; more (but

for fear of carrying all clean) had been appointed, but these few were

enow."[229:A]

From a passage in Ben Jonson's _Tale of a Tub_, we learn that the dress

of the downright rustic, on his wedding day, was as follows:

"He had on a lether doublet, with long points,

And a paire of pin'd-up breech's, like pudding bags:

With yellow stockings, and his hat turn'd up

With a silver claspe, on his leere side."[229:B]

Of the ceremonies attendant on _Christenings_, it will be necessary to

mention two that prevailed at this period, and which have since fallen

into disuse. Shakspeare, who generally transfers the customs of his own

times to those periods of which he is treating, represents Henry VIII.

saying to Cranmer, whom he had appointed Godfather to Elizabeth,

"Come, come, my lord, you'd spare your _spoons_;"[230:A]

and again in the dialogue between the porter and his man:

"_Port._ On my Christian conscience, this one christening will

beget a thousand; here will be father, godfather, and all

together.

"_Man._ The _spoons_ will be the bigger, sir."[230:B]

In the days of Elizabeth and her predecessor, Mary, it was usual

for the sponsors at christenings to present the child with silver

spoons gilt, on the handles of which were engraved the figures of the

apostles, whence they were commonly called _apostle-spoons_: thus

Ben Jonson in _Bartholomew Fair_; "and all this for the hope of two

_apostle-spoons_, to suffer."[230:C] The opulent frequently gave a

complete set of spoons, namely, the twelve apostles; those less rich,

selected the four evangelists, and the poorer class were content to

offer a single spoon, or, at most, two, on which were carved their

favourite saint or saints.

Among the higher ranks, in the reign of Henry VIII. the practice at

christenings was to give _cups_ or bowls of gold or silver. Accordingly

Holinshed, describing the christening of Elizabeth, relates that "the

archbishop of Canturburie gave to the princesse a standing cup of gold:

the dutches of Norfolke gave to her a standing cup of gold, fretted

with pearle: the marchionesse of Dorset gave three gilt bolles, pounced

with a cover: and the marchionesse of Excester gave three standing

bolles graven, all gilt with a cover."[230:D]

In the Harleian MS. Vol. 6395, occurs a scarce pamphlet, entitled

_Merry Passages and Jeasts_, from which Dr. Birch transcribed the

following curious anecdote, as illustrative both of the custom of

offering spoons, and of the intimacy which subsisted between Shakspeare

and Jonson. "Shakspeare," says the author of this collection, who names

_Donne_ as his authority for the story, "was godfather to one of Ben

Jonson's children, and after the christening, being in deepe study,

Jonson came to cheer him up, and ask'd him why he was so melancholy: No

'faith Ben, says 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 resolved at last. I pr'ythee what? says he.—I'faith, Ben,

I'll give him a douzen good _latten_ (Latin) _spoons_, and thou shalt

translate them."[231:A] It was not until the close of the seventeenth

century, that this practice of spoon-giving at christenings ceased as a

general custom.

Another baptismal ceremony, now laid aside, was the use of the

chrisome, or white cloth, which was put on the child after the

performance of the sacred rite. To this usage Dame Quickly alludes

in describing the death of Falstaff, though, in accordance with her

character, she corrupts the term: "'A made a finer end, and went away,

an it had been any _christom_ child."[231:B]

Previous to the Reformation, oil was used, as well as water, in

baptism, or rather a kind of mixture of oil and balsam, which in the

Greek was called Χρισμα; hence the white cloth worn on this occasion,

as an emblem of purity, was denominated the _chrismale_ or

_chrism-cloth_. During the era of using this holy unction, with which

the priest made the sign of the cross, on the breast, shoulders, and

head of the child, the _chrismale_ was worn only for seven days, as

symbolical, it is said, of the seven ages of life; but after the

Reformation, the oil being omitted, it was kept on the child until the

purification of the mother, when, after the ceremony of churching, it

was returned to the minister, by whom it had been originally supplied.

If the child died during the month of wearing the chrisome-cloth, it

was buried in it, and children thus situated were called in the bills

of mortality _chrisoms_. This practice, which was common in the days

of Shakspeare, continued in use for nearly a century afterwards; for

Blount in his _Glossography_, 1678, explains the word _chrisoms_ as

meaning such children as die within the month of birth, because during

that time they use to wear the chrisom-cloth.[232:A]

We shall now proceed to consider some of the peculiarities accompanying

the _Funeral Rites_ of this period; and, in the first place, we shall

notice the _passing-bell_. This was rung at an early era of the church,

to solicit the prayers of all good christians for the welfare of the

soul _passing_ into another world: thus Durandus, who wrote towards the

close of the twelfth century, says: "Verum _aliquo moriente_, campanæ

debent pulsari, _ut populus hoc audiens, oret pro illo_:" "when any one

is _dying_, the bells must be tolled, _that the people may put up their

prayers for him_."[232:B] This custom of ringing a bell for a soul just

departing, which is _now_ relinquished, the bell only tolling after

death, we have reason to believe was still observed in Shakspeare's

time; for he makes Northumberland in _King Henry IV._ remark on the

"bringer of unwelcome news," that

——————————— "his tongue

Sounds ever after as a sullen bell,

Remember'd knolling a _departing_ friend."[232:C]

Another benefit formerly supposed to be derived from the sounding of

the passing-bell, and which, from the scene of Cardinal Beaufort's

death, was probably a part of Shakspeare's creed, consisted in the

discomfiture of the evil spirits, who were supposed to surround the bed

of the dying person; and who, terrified by the tolling of the holy

bell, were compelled to keep aloof; accordingly Durandus mentions it

as one of the effects of bell-ringing, _ut dæmones timentes[233:A]

fugiant_; and in the Golden Legende, printed by Wynkyn de Worde 1498,

it is observed that "the evill spirytes that ben in the regyon of the

ayre, doubte moche when they here the bells rongen: and this is the

cause why the belles ben rongen—to the ende that the feindes and

wycked spirytes shold be abashed and flee."[233:B]

That these opinions, indeed, relative to the _passing-bell_, continued

to prevail, as things of general belief, during the greater part of

the seventeenth century, is evident from the works of the pious Bishop

Taylor, in which are to be found several forms of prayer for the

souls of the _departing_, to be offered up _during the tolling of the

passing-bell_. In these the violence of Hell is deprecated, and it is

petitioned, that the spirits of darkness may be driven far from the

couch of the dying sinner.[233:C]

So common, indeed, was this practice, that almost every individual had

an exclamation or form of prayer ready to be recited on hearing the

passing-bell, whence the following proverbial rhyme:

"When the Bell begins to toll

Cry, _Lord have mercy on the soul_."

In the _Vittoria Corombona_ of Webster, this custom is alluded to in a

manner singularly wild and striking. Cornelia says:

"_Cor._ I'll give you a saying which my grand-mother

Was wont, when she _heard the bell_, to sing o'er unto her

lute.

_Ham._ Do an you will, do.

_Cor._ Call for the robin-red-breast, and the wren,

Since o'er shady groves they hover,

And with leaves and flowers do cover

The friendless bodies of unburied men.

Call unto his funeral dole

The ant, the field-mouse, and the mole,

To raise him hillocks that shall keep him warm,

And (when gay tombs are robb'd) sustain no harm,

But keep the wolf far thence: that's foe to men,

For with his nails he'll dig them up again."

_Ancient British Drama_, vol. iii. p. 41.

Even so late as the commencement of the eighteenth century, it appears

that this custom of praying during the passing-bell still lingered in

some parts of the country; for Mr. Bourne, the first edition of whose

book was published in 1725, after vindicating the practice, adds,—"I

know several religious families in this place (Newcastle), and I hope

it is so in other places too, who always observe it, whenever the

melancholy season offers; and therefore it will at least sometimes

happen, when we put up our prayers constantly at the tolling of the

bell, that we shall pray for a soul departing. And though it be

granted, that it will oftener happen otherwise, as the regular custom

is so little followed; yet that can be no harmful praying for the

dead."[234:A]

Immediately after death a ceremony commenced, the most offensive

part of which has not been laid aside for more than half a century.

This was called the _Licke_ or _Lake-wake_, a term derived from the

Anglo-Saxon _Lic_ a corpse, and _Wæcce_ a _wake_ or _watching_. It

originally consisted of a meeting of the friends and relations of the

deceased, for the purpose of watching by the body from the moment

it ceased to breathe, to its exportation to the grave; a duty which

was at first performed with solemnity and piety, accompanied by the

singing of psalms and the recitation of the virtues of the dead. It

speedily, however, degenerated into a scene of levity, of feasting, and

intoxication; to such a degree, indeed, that it was thought necessary

at a provincial synod held in London during the reign of Edward III. to

issue a canon for the restriction of the watchers to the near relations

and most intimate friends of the deceased, and only to such of these

as offered to repeat a fixed number of psalms for the benefit of his

soul.[235:A] To this regulation little attention, we apprehend, was

paid; for the Lake-wake appears to have been observed as a meeting of

revelry during the whole of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries;

and Mr. Bourne, so late as the year 1725, declares, that it was _then_

"a scene of sport and drinking and lewdness."[235:B]

In Scotland during the period of which we are treating, and even down

to the rebellion of 1745, the Lake-wake was observed with still greater

form and effect than in England, though not often with a better moral

result. Mr. Pennant describing it, when speaking of the Highland

customs, under the mistaken etymology of _Late_-wake, says, that the

evening after the death of any person, the relations or friends of

the deceased met at the house, attended by a bag-pipe or fiddle; the

nearest of kin, be it wife, son, or daughter, opened a melancholy ball,

dancing and _greeting_, i. e. crying violently at the same time; and

this continued till day-light, but with such gambols and frolics among

the younger part of the company, that the loss which occasioned them

was often more than supplied by the consequences of that night.[235:C]

Mrs. Grant, however, in her lately published work on the Superstitions

of the Highlanders, has given us a more favourable account of this

ancient custom, which she has connected with a wild traditionary tale

of much moral interest.

A peasant of Glen Banchar, a dreary and secluded recess in the central

Highlands, "was fortunate in all respects but one. He had three very

fine children, who all, in succession, died after having been weaned,

though, before, they gave every promise of health and firmness. Both

parents were much afflicted; but the father's grief was clamorous and

unmanly. They resolved that the next should be suckled for two years,

hoping, by this, to avoid the repetition of such a misfortune. They did

so; and the child, by living longer, only took a firmer hold of their

affections, and furnished more materials for sorrowful recollection. At

the close of the second year, he followed his brothers; and there were

no bounds to the affliction of the parents.

"There are, however, in the economy of Highland life, certain duties

and courtesies which are indispensable; and for the omission of which

nothing can apologise. One of those is, to call in all their friends,

and feast them at the time of the greatest family distress. The

death of the child happened late in spring, when sheep were abroad

in the more inhabited _straths_; but, from the blasts in that high

and stormy region, were still confined to the cot. In a dismal snowy

evening, the man, unable to stifle his anguish, went out, lamenting

aloud, for a lamb to treat his friends with at the _Late-wake_. At

the door of the cot, however, he found a stranger standing before the

entrance. He was astonished, in such a night, to meet a person so far

from any frequented place. The stranger was plainly attired; but had

a countenance expressive of singular mildness and benevolence, and,

addressing him in a sweet, impressive voice, asked him what he did

there amidst the tempest. He was filled with awe, which he could not

account for, and said, that he came for a lamb. 'What kind of lamb do

you mean to take?' said the stranger. 'The very best I can find,' he

replied, 'as it is to entertain my friends; and I hope you will share

of it.'—'Do your sheep make any resistance when you take away the

lamb, or any disturbance afterwards?'—'Never,' was the answer. 'How

differently am I treated!' said the traveller. 'When I come to visit

my sheepfold, I take, as I am well entitled to do, the best lamb to

myself; and my ears are filled with the clamour of discontent by these

ungrateful sheep, whom I have fed, watched, and protected.'

"He looked up in amaze; but the vision was fled. He went however for

the lamb, and brought it home with alacrity. He did more: It was the

custom of these times—a custom, indeed, which was not extinct till

after 1745—for people to dance at _Late-wakes_. It was a mournful kind

of movement, but still it was dancing. The nearest relation of the

deceased often began the ceremony weeping; but did, however, begin it,

to give the example of fortitude and resignation. This man, on other

occasions, had been quite unequal to the performance of this duty; but

at this time he, immediately on coming in, ordered music to begin,

and danced the solitary measure appropriate to such occasions. The

reader must have very little sagacity or knowledge of the purport and

consequences of visions, who requires to be told, that many sons were

born, lived, and prospered afterwards in this reformed family."[237:A]

Some vestiges of the _Lake-wake_ still remain at this day in remote

parts of the north of England, especially at the period of _laying

out_, or _streeking_ the corpse, as it is termed; and here it may be

remarked, that in the time of Shakspeare, the practice of _winding the

corse_, or putting on the _winding-sheet_, was a ceremony of a very

impressive kind, and accompanied by the solemn melody of dirges. Some

lines strikingly illustrative of this pious duty, are to be found in

the _White Devil; or Vittoria Corombona_ of Webster, published in 1612.

Francisco, Duke of Florence, tells Flaminio,

"I found them _winding_ of Marcello's corse;

And there is such a solemn melody,

'Tween doleful songs, tears, and sad elegies;

Such as old grandames, watching by the dead,

Were wont to outwear the nights with; that, believe me,

I had no eyes to guide me forth the room,

They were so o'ercharged with water.——

_Cornelia, the Moor, and three other ladies, discovered WINDING

Marcello's corse. A SONG._

_Cor._ This rosemary is wither'd, pray get fresh;

I would have these herbs grow up in his grave,

When I am dead and rotten. Reach the bays,

I'll tie a garland here about his head:

'Twill keep my boy from lightning. This _sheet_

I have kept this twenty years, and every day

Hallow'd it with my prayers; I did not think

He should have worn it."[237:B]

Another exquisite passage of this fine old poet alludes to the same

practice—a villain of ducal rank, expiring from the effect of poison,

exclaims,

"O thou soft natural death! that art joint-twin

To sweetest slumber!—no rough-bearded comet

Stares on thy mild departure; the dull owl

Beats not against thy casement; the hoarse wolf

Scents not thy carion. _Pity winds thy corse_,

Whilst horror waits on princes."[238:A]

After the funeral was over, it was customary, among all ranks, to

give a cold, and sometimes a very ostentatious, entertainment to the

mourners. To this usage Shakspeare refers, in the character of Hamlet:

"Thrift, thrift, Horatio! the _funeral bak'd meats_

Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables,"

a passage which Mr. Collins has illustrated by the following quotation

from a contemporary writer: "His corpes was with funerall pompe

conveyed to the church, and there sollemnly enterred, nothing omitted

which necessitie or custom could claime; a sermon, a _banquet_, and

like observations."[238:B]

The funeral feast is not yet extinct; it may occasionally be met

with in places remote from the metropolis, and more particularly in

the northern counties among some of the wealthy yeomanry. Mr. Douce

considers the practice as "certainly borrowed from the _cœna feralis_

of the Romans," and adds, "in the North this feast is called an _arval_

or _arvil supper_; and the loaves that are sometimes distributed among

the poor, _arval-bread_. Not many years since one of these arvals was

celebrated in a village in Yorkshire at a public-house, the sign of

which was the family arms of a nobleman whose motto is VIRTUS POST

FUNERA VIVIT. The undertaker, who, though a clerk, was no scholar,

requested a gentleman present to explain to him the meaning of these

Latin words, which he readily and facetiously did in the following

manner; _Virtus_, a parish clerk, _vivit_, lives well, _post funera_,

at an _arval_. The latter word is apparently derived from some lost

Teutonic term that indicated a funeral pile on which the body was

burned in times of Paganism."[239:A]

A few observations must still be added on the pleasing, though now

nearly obsolete, practice of carrying ever-greens and garlands at

funerals, and of decorating the grave with flowers. There is something

so strikingly emblematic, so delightfully soothing in these old

rites, that though the prototype be probably heathen, their disuse

is to be regretted. "The carrying of ivy, or laurel, or rosemary, or

some of those ever-greens," says Bourne, "is an emblem of the soul's

immortality. It is as much as to say, that though the body be dead, yet

the soul is ever-green and always in life: it is not like the body, and

those other greens which die and revive again at their proper seasons,

no autumn nor winter can make a change in it, but it is unalterably the

same, perpetually in life, and never dying.

"The Romans, and other heathens upon this occasion, made use of

cypress, which being once cut, will never flourish nor grow any more,

as an emblem of their dying for ever, and being no more in life.

But instead of that, the antient Christians used the things before

mentioned; they laid them under the corps in the grave, to signify,

that they who die in Christ, do not cease to live. For though, as to

the body they die to the world, yet as to their souls, they live to God.

"And as the carrying of these ever-greens is an emblem of the soul's

immortality, so it is also of the resurrection of the body: for as

these herbs are not entirely plucked up, but only cut down, and will,

at the returning season, revive and spring up again; so the body, like

them, is but cut down for a while, and will rise and shoot up again at

the resurrection."[239:B]

The _bay_ and _rosemary_ were the plants usually chosen, the former

as being said to revive from the root, when apparently dead, and the

latter from its supposed virtue in strengthening the memory:

"There's rosemary, that's for remembrance."[240:A]

Shakspeare has frequently noticed these ever-greens, garlands, and

flowers, as forming a part of the tributary rites of the departed, as

elegant memorials of the dead: at the funeral of Juliet he adopts the

rosemary:—

"Dry up your tears, and stick your rosemary

On this fair corse, and as the custom is,

In all her best array bear her to church."[240:B]

_Garlands_ of flowers were formerly either hung up in country-churches,

as a mark of honour and esteem, over the seats of those who had died

virgins, or were remarkable for chastity and fidelity, or were placed

in the form of crowns on the coffins of the deceased, and buried with

them, for the same purpose. Of these crowns and garlands, which were in

frequent use until the commencement of the last century, a very curious

account has been given by a writer in the Gentleman's Magazine.

"In this nation (as well as others)," he observes, "by the abundant

zeal of our ancestors, virginity was held in great estimation; insomuch

that those which died in that state were rewarded, at their deaths,

with a garland or crown on their heads, denoting their triumphant

victory over the lusts of the flesh. Nay, this honour was extended even

to a widow that had enjoyed but one husband (saith Weever in his Fun.

Mon. p. 12.) And, in the year 1733, the present clerk of the parish

church of Bromley in Kent, by his digging a grave in that church-yard,

close to the east end of the chancel wall, dug up one of these crowns,

or garlands, which is most artificially wrought in fillagree work with

gold and silver wire, in resemblance of myrtle (with which plant the

funebrial garlands of the ancients were composed) whose leaves are

fastened to hoops of large wire of iron, now something corroded with

rust, but both the gold and silver remains to this time very little

different from its original splendor. It was also lined with cloth of

silver, a piece of which, together with part of this curious garland, I

keep as a choice relic of antiquity.

"Besides these crowns, the ancients had also their depository garlands,

the use of which were continued even till of late years, (and

perhaps are still retained in many parts of this nation, for my own

knowledge of these matters extends not above twenty or thirty miles

round London,) which garlands at the funerals of the deceased, were

carried solemnly before the corpse by two maids, and afterward hung

up in some conspicuous place within the church, in memorial of the

departed person, and were (at least all that I have seen) made after

the following manner, viz. the lower rim or circlet, was a broad hoop

of wood, whereunto was fixed, at the sides thereof, part of two other

hoops crossing each other at the top, at right angles, which formed the

upper part, being about one third longer than the width; these hoops

were wholly covered with artificial flowers of paper, dyed horn, or

silk, and more or less beauteous, according to the skill and ingenuity

of the performer. In the vacancy of the inside, from the top, hung

white paper, cut in form of gloves, whereon was wrote the deceased's

name, age, &c. together with long slips of various coloured paper, or

ribbons. These were many times intermixed with gilded or painted empty

shells of blown eggs, as farther ornaments; or, it may be, as emblems

of the bubbles or bitterness of this life; whilst other garlands had

only a solitary hour-glass hanging therein, as a more significant

symbol of mortality.

"About forty years ago, these garlands grew much out of repute, and

were thought, by many, as very unbecoming decorations for so sacred a

place as the church; and at the reparation, or new beautifying several

churches, where I have been concerned, I was obliged, by order of

the minister and churchwardens, to take the garlands down, and the

inhabitants were strictly forbidden to hang up any more for the future.

Yet, notwithstanding, several people, unwilling to forsake their

ancient and delightful custom, continued still the making of them, and

they were carried at the funerals, as before, to the grave, and put

therein, upon the coffin, over the face of the dead; this I have seen

done in many places." Bromley in Kent. _Gentleman's Magazine for June

1747._

Shakspeare has alluded to these maiden rites in _Hamlet_, where the

priest, at the interment of Ophelia, says,

—— "Here she is allow'd her virgin _crants_,

Her maiden strewments, and the bringing home

Of bell and burial."[242:A]

The term _crants_, observes Johnson, on the authority of a

correspondent, is the German word for _garlands_, and was probably

retained by us from the Saxons.[242:B]

The _strewments_ mentioned in this passage refer to a pleasing custom,

which is still, we believe, preserved in Wales, of scattering flowers

over the graves of the deceased.[242:C] It is manifestly copied from

the funeral rites of the Greeks and Romans, and was early introduced

into the Christian church; for St. Jerom, in an epistle to his friend

Pammachius on the death of his wife, remarks, "whilst other husbands

strawed violets and roses, and lilies, and purple flowers, upon the

graves of their wives, and comforted themselves with such like offices,

Pammachius bedewed her ashes and venerable bones with the balsam of

alms[242:D];" and Mr. Strutt, in his _Manners and Customs of England_,

tells us, "that of old it was usual to adorn the graves of the deceased

with roses and other flowers (but more especially those of lovers,

round whose tombs they have often planted rose trees): Some traces," he

observes, "of this ancient custom are yet remaining in the church-yard

of Oakley, in Surry, which is full of rose trees planted round the

graves."[243:A]

Many of the dramas of our immortal bard bear testimony to his

partiality for this elegantly affectionate tribute; a practice which

there is reason to suppose was in the country at least not uncommon in

his days: thus Capulet, in _Romeo and Juliet_, observes,

"Our bridal flowers serve for a buried corse;"[243:B]

and the Queen in _Hamlet_ is represented as performing the ceremony at

the grave of Ophelia:

"_Queen._ Sweets to the sweet: Farewell!

(_Scattering Flowers._)

I hop'd, thou should'st have been my Hamlet's wife;

I thought, thy bride-bed to have deck'd, sweet maid,

And not have _strew'd thy grave_."[243:C]

It was considered, likewise, as a duty incumbent on the survivors,

annually to plant shrubs and flowers upon, and to tend and keep neat,

the turf which covered the remains of their beloved friends; in

accordance with this usage, Mariana is drawn in _Pericles_ decorating

the tomb of her nurse:

————— "I will rob Tellus of her weed,

To strew thy green with flowers: the yellows, blues,

The purple violets, and marigolds,

Shall, as a chaplet, hang upon thy grave,

While summer days do last;"[243:D]

and Arviragus, in _Cymbeline_, pathetically exclaims,

—————— "With fairest flowers,

Whilst summer lasts, and I live here, Fidele,

I'll sweeten thy sad grave: Thou shall not lack

The flower, that's like thy face, pale primrose; nor

The azur'd hare-bell, like thy veins; no, nor

The leaf of eglantine, whom not to slander,

Out-sweeten'd not thy breath."[244:A]

The only relic which yet exists in this country of a custom so

interesting, is to be found in the practice of protecting the hallowed

mound by twigs of osier, an attention to the mansions of the dead,

which is still observable in most of the country-church-yards in the

south of England.

We have thus advanced in pursuit of our object, namely, _A Survey of

Country Life during the Age of Shakspeare_, as far as a sketch of

its manners and customs, resulting from a brief description of rural

characters, holidays, and festivals, wakes, fairs, weddings, and

burials, will carry us; and we shall now proceed with the picture, by

adding some account of those diversions of our ancestors which could

not with propriety find a place under any of the topics that have been

hitherto noticed; endeavouring in our progress to render the great

dramatic bard the chief illustrator of his own times.

FOOTNOTES:

[209:A] Brand on Bourne's Antiquities, p. 333.

[209:B] Mr. Strutt, in a quotation from an old MS. legend of St. John

the Baptist, preserved in Dugdale's Warwickshire, tells us,—"In

the beginning of holi churche, it was so that the pepul cam to the

chirche with candellys brinnyng, and wold _wake_ and comme with Light

toward the chirche in their devocions, and after they fell to lecherie

and songs, daunces, harping, piping, and also to glotony and sinne,

&c."—Sports and Pastimes, p. 322.

"It appears," says Mr. Brand, "that in antient times the parishioners

brought _rushes_ at the Feast of Dedication, wherewith to strew the

Church, and from that circumstance the Festivity itself has obtained

the name of _Rush-bearing_, which occurs for a Country-Wake in a

Glossary to the Lancashire dialect."—Brand ap. Ellis, vol. i. p. 436.

[210:A] Hilman's Tusser, p. 81.

[211:A] Bourne's Antiquit. Vulg. p. 330.

[211:B] Triumph of Pleasure, p. 23.

[211:C] Chalmers's Poets, vol. iv. p. 378. Poly-Olbion, Song xxvii.

[212:A] Hesperides, p. 300, 301.

[212:B] In Shakspeare's time the business of the milliner was

transacted by men.

[212:C] _Caddisses_,—a kind of narrow worsted galloon.

[212:D] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. ix. p. 345. 347, 348.

[213:A] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. ix. p. 349.

[213:B] _Pomander_,—a little ball of perfumes worn either in the

pocket or about the neck.

[213:C] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. ix. p. 375, 376.

[214:A] Ancient British Drama, vol. ii. p. 435, 436. The third edition

of _A Woman Killed With Kindness_, was printed in 4to. 1617.

[215:A] Warton's History of English Poetry, vol. i. p. 279. note.

[215:B] Establishment and Expences of the Houshold of Henry Percy, the

fifth Earl of Northumberland, A. D. 1512. p. 407.

[215:C] Hilman's Tusser, p. 110.

[216:A] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. xi. p. 358.

[218:A] Holinshed's Chronicles, vol. i. p. 414, 415. Edit. of 1807.

[218:B] Moryson's Itinerary, part iii. p. 151. folio. London, 1617.

[218:C] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. viii. p. 189. note.

[218:D] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. viii. p. 189, 190.

[218:E] Bliss's edition, 1811. p. 37, 38.

[219:A] Earle's Microcosmography, p. 38.

[219:B] Burton's Anatomy of Melancholy, 8th edit. p. 191.

[220:A] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. iv. p. 213. Act ii. sc. 2.

[221:A] "Vincent de Beauvais, a writer of the 13th century, in his

_Speculum historiale_, lib. ix. c. 70., has defined _espousals to

be a contract of future marriage_, made either by a simple promise,

by earnest or security given, by a ring, or by an oath." Douce's

Illustrations, vol. i. p. 109.

[221:B] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. v. p. 395. Act iv. sc. 3.

[221:C] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. v. p. 403. Act v. sc. 1.

[222:A] Douce's Illustrations, vol. i. p. 113.

[222:B] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. vi. p. 395.

[222:C] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. vi. p. 396.

[222:D] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. x. p. 405. Here _assur'd_ is taken

in the sense of _affianced_ or _contracted_. If necessary, many more

instances of betrothing, and troth-plighting, might be brought forward

from our author's dramas.

[223:A] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. ix. p. 240.

[223:B] Strutt's Manners and Customs, vol. iii. p. 155.

[224:A] History of Jack of Newbury, 4to. chap. ii.

[224:B] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. xviii. p. 291.

[224:C] Ram Alley, or Merry Tricks, by Barry, 1611. Vide Ancient

British Drama, vol. ii.

[224:D] Beaumont and Fletcher's Scornful Lady, 1616.

[224:E] A Faire Quarrel, by Middleton and Rowley, 1617. Besides

rosemary, flowers of various kinds were frequently strewn before the

bride as she passed to church; a custom alluded to in a well-known line

of Shakspeare,

"Our _Bridal Flowers_ serve for a buried corse:"

and more explicitly depicted in the following passage from one of his

contemporaries:—

"_Adriana._ Come straw apace, Lord shall I never live

To walke to Church on flowers? O 'tis fine,

To see a Bride trip it to Church so lightly,

As if her new Choppines would scorne to bruise

A silly flower!"

Barry's Ram Alley, or Merry Tricks,

act v. sc. 1. 4to. 1611.

[225:A] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. ix. p. 114, 115, 116. Act iii. sc. 2.

[225:B] Finet's Philoxenis, 1656, p. 11. quoted by Mr. Reed in his

Shakspeare, vol. ix. p. 115. note.

[226:A] Folio edit. p. 44. Act iv. sc. 2.

[226:B] _No Wit, no Help like a Womans_, 8vo. 1657. Middleton was

contemporary with Shakspeare, and commenced a dramatic writer in 1602.

[226:C] _Insatiate Countess_, 4to. 1603.

[226:D] Douce's Illustrations, vol. i. p. 199.

[226:E] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. iv. p. 459. note, by Steevens.

[226:F] _Midsummer-Night's Dream_, act v. sc. 2. Vide Reed's

Shakspeare, vol. iv. p. 459.

[228:A] _Woorts_; of this word I know not the precise meaning; but

suppose it is meant to imply _plodded_ or _stumbled on_.

[229:A] Nichols's Queen Elizabeth's Progresses, vol. i.—Laneham's

Letter, p. 18, 19, 20.

[229:B] Jonson's Works, fol. edit. of 1640, vol. ii. A Tale of a Tub,

p. 72.—Much of the spirit and costume of the _rural wedding_ of the

sixteenth century continued to survive until within these eighty years.

"I have received," says Mr. Brand, who wrote in 1776, "from those who

have been present at them, the following account of the customs used at

_vulgar Northern Weddings_, about _half a century ago_:—

"The young women in the neighbourhood, with bride-favours (knots of

ribbands) at their breasts, and nosegays in their hands, attended the

Bride on her wedding-day in the morning.—_Fore-Riders_ announced

with shouts the arrival of the Bridegroom; after a kind of breakfast,

at which the _bride-cakes_ were set on and the _barrels broached_,

they walked out towards the church.—The Bride was led by _two young

men_; the Bridegroom by _two young women_: Pipers preceded them, while

the crowd tossed up their hats, shouted and clapped their hands. An

indecent custom prevailed after the ceremony, and that too before the

altar:—Young men strove who could first _unloose_, or rather pluck off

the Bride's garters: Ribbands supplied their place on this occasion;

whosoever was so fortunate as to tear them thus off from her leggs,

bore them about the church in triumph.

"It is still usual for the young men present to _salute_ the _Bride_

immediately after the performing of the marriage service.

"Four, with their horses, were waiting without; they _saluted_ the

Bride at the church gate, and immediately mounting, contended who

should first carry home the good news, and WIN what they call the

KAIL;" i. e. _a smoking prize of spice-broth_, which stood ready

prepared to reward the victor in this singular kind of race.

"Dinner succeeded; to that dancing and supper; after which a _posset_

was made, of which the Bride and Bridegroom were always to taste

first.—The men departed the room till the Bride was undressed by her

_maids_, and put to bed; the Bridegroom in his turn was undressed

by his men, and the ceremony concluded with the well-known rite of

_throwing the stocking_."—Bourne's Antiquitates Vulg. apud Brand, p.

371, 372, 373. edit. 1810.

[230:A] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. xv. p. 197.

[230:B] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. xv. p. 203.

[230:C] Ben Jonson's Works, fol. edit. 1640. vol. ii. p. 6.

[230:D] Holinshed's Chronicles, vol. iii. p. 787. edit. 1808.

[231:A] Capell's Notes and Various Readings on Shakspeare, vol. i.; and

Reed's Shakspeare, vol. xv. p. 198.—L'Estrange, a nephew to Sir Roger

L'Estrange, appears to have been the compiler of these anecdotes. Of

the truth of the story, however, as far as it relates to Shakspeare and

Jonson, there is reason to entertain much doubt.

[231:B] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. xii. p. 343. Act ii. sc. 3.

[232:A] Vide Douce's Illustrations, vol. i. p. 488.; and Reed's

Shakspeare, vol. xii. p. 345.

[232:B] Vide Rationale Divinorum Officiorum: the first edition was

printed in 1459.

[232:C] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. xii. p. 16.

[233:A] Durandi Rational. lib. i. c. 4.

[233:B] For an account of three editions of De Worde's Golden Legende,

see Dibdin's Typographical Antiquit. vol. ii. p. 73.

[233:C] These forms of prayer are transcribed by Bourne in his

Antiquitates Vulgares.—Vide Brand's edit. p. 10. Bishop Taylor died in

1667.

[234:A] Bourne apud Brand, p. 9.

[235:A] Collier's Ecclesiastical History, vol. i. p. 546.

[235:B] Antiquitates Vulgares apud Brand, p. 23.

[235:C] Tour in Scotland.

[237:A] Essays on the Superstitions of the Highlanders of Scotland,

vol. i. p. 184-188.

[237:B] Ancient British Drama, vol. iii. p. 40.

[238:A] Ancient British Drama, vol. iii. p. 36.

[238:B] The Tragique Historie of the Faire Valeria of London, 1598.

Vide Reed's Shakspeare, vol. xviii. p. 43. note.

[239:A] Douce's Illustrations, vol. ii. p. 202, 203.

[239:B] Bourne's Antiquitates Vulg. p. 33, 34.

[240:A] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. xviii. p. 294.

[240:B] Ibid. vol. xx. p. 217, 218.

[242:A] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. xviii. p. 335, 336.

[242:B] Ibid. p. 336. note.

[242:C] See Pratt's Gleanings in Wales, and Mason's Elegy in a

Church-yard in Wales.

[242:D] Bourne's Antiq. apud Brand, p. 45.

[243:A] Anglo Saxon Æra, vol. i. p. 69.

[243:B] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. xx. p. 219.

[243:C] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. xviii. p. 337.

[243:D] Ibid. vol. xxi. p. 297, 298.

[244:A] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. xviii. p. 576.—In Mr. Malkin's

notes on Mason's Elegy, we have the following elegant and pleasing

description of this pathetic custom, as it still exists in Wales:—"It

is a very antient and general practice in Glamorgan," he remarks, "to

plant flowers on the graves; so that many Church-yards have something

like the splendour of a rich and various parterre. Besides this it is

usual to strew the graves with flowers and ever-greens, within the

Church as well as out of it, thrice at least every year, on the same

principle of delicate respect as the stones are whitened.

"No flowers or ever-greens are permitted to be planted on graves but

such as are sweet-scented: the pink and polyanthus, sweet williams,

gilliflowers, and carnations, mignionette, thyme, hyssop, camomile,

rosemary, make up the pious decoration of this consecrated garden.——

"The white rose is always planted on a virgin's tomb. The red rose is

appropriated to the grave of any person distinguished for goodness, and

especially benevolence of character.

"In the Easter week most generally the graves are newly dressed, and

manured with fresh earth, when such flowers or ever-greens as may be

wanted or wished for are planted. In the Whitsuntide Holidays, or

rather the preceding week, the graves are again looked after, weeded,

and other wise dressed, or, if necessary, planted again.—This work the

nearest relations of the deceased always do with their own hands, and

never by servants or hired persons.—

"When a young couple are to be married, their ways to the Church are

strewed with sweet-scented flowers and ever-greens. When a young

unmarried person dies, his or her ways to the grave are also strewed

with sweet flowers and ever-greens; and on such occasions it is the

usual phrase, that those persons are going to their nuptial beds, not

to their graves.—None ever molest the flowers that grow on graves;

for it is deemed a kind of sacrilege to do so. A relation or friend

will occasionally take a pink, if it can be spared, or a sprig of

thyme, from the grave of a beloved or respected person, to wear it in

remembrance; but they never take much, lest they should deface the

growth on the grave.—

"These elegant and highly pathetic customs of South Wales make the

best impression on the mind. What can be more affecting than to see

all the youth of both sexes in a village, and in every village through

which the corpse passes, dressed in their best apparel, and strewing

with sweet-scented flowers the ways along which one of their beloved

neighbours goes to his or her marriage-bed."

Malkin's Scenery, Antiquities, and Biography of

South Wales, 4to. 1804. p. 606.

Shakspeare and His Times [Vol. 1 of 2] Including the Biography of the Poet; criticisms on his genius and writings; a new chronology of his plays; a disquisition on the on the object of his sonnets; and a history of the manners, customs, and amusements, superstitions, poetry, and elegant literature of his age · 第 8 / 20 章