As early as the twelfth century we have accounts of the spectacles and

pageants by which Christmas was welcomed at the court of the then

monarch Henry II.; and from this period the wardrobe rolls and other

Household-Books of the English kings furnish continual evidences of the

costly preparations made for the festival. Many extracts from these

books have been made by Mr. Sandys and others, from which it appears

that the mirth of the celebration, and the lavish profusion expended

upon it, were on the increase from year to year, excepting during that

distracted period of England's history when these, like all other

gracious arrangements and social relations, were disturbed by the unholy

contests between the houses of the rival roses. There is, however, a

beautiful example of the sacred influence of this high festival

mentioned by Turner in his History of England, showing that its hallowed

presence had power, even in those warlike days, to silence even the

voice of war,--of all war save that most impious of (what are almost

always impious) wars, civil war. During the siege of Orleans, in 1428,

he says: "The solemnities and festivities of Christmas gave a short

interval of repose. The English lords requested of the French commanders

that they might have a night of minstrelsy, with trumpets and clarions.

This was granted; and the horrors of war were suspended by melodies,

that were felt to be delightful."

In the peaceful reign of Henry VII., the nation, on emerging from that

long and unnatural struggle, appears to have occupied itself, as did the

wise monarch, in restoring as far as was possible, and by all means, its

disrupted ties, and rebaptizing its apostate feelings; and during this

period the festival of Christmas was restored with revived splendor and

observed with renewed zeal. The Household-Book of that sovereign,

preserved in the chapter-house at Westminster, contains numerous items

for disbursements connected with the Christmas diversions, in proof of

this fact.

The reign of Henry VIII. was a reign of jousts and pageants till it

became a reign of blood; and accordingly the Christmas pageantries

prepared for the entertainment of that execrable monarch were

distinguished by increased pomp and furnished at a more profuse

expenditure. The festivities of Eltham and Greenwich figure in the pages

of the old chroniclers; and the account books at the chapter-house

abound in payments made in this reign, for purposes connected with the

revels of the season.

We shall by and by have occasion to present our readers with some

curious particulars, illustrative of the cost and pains bestowed upon

this court celebration during the short reign of the young monarch

Edward VI.

Not all the gloom and terror of the sanguinary Mary's reign were able

entirely to extinguish the spirit of Christmas rejoicing throughout the

land, though the court itself was too much occupied with its auto-da-fé

spectacles to have much time for pageants of less interest.

Our readers, we think, need scarcely be told that the successor of this

stern and miserable queen (and, thank God! the last of that bad family)

was sure to seize upon the old pageantries, as she did upon every other

vehicle which could in any way be made to minister to her intolerable

vanity, or by which a public exhibition might be made, before the slaves

whom she governed, of her own vulgar and brutal mind. Under all the

forms of ancient festival observance, some offering was presented to

this insatiable and disgusting appetite,--and that, too, by men entitled

to stand erect, by their genius or their virtues, yet whose knees were

rough with kneeling before as worthless an idol as any wooden god that

the most senseless superstition ever set up for worship. From all the

altars which the court had reared to old Father Christmas of yore, a

cloud of incense was poured into the royal closet, enough to choke

anything but a woman,--that woman a queen, and that queen a Tudor. The

festival was preserved, and even embellished; but the saint, as far as

the court was concerned, was changed. However, the example of the

festivity to the people was the same; and the land was a merry land, and

the Christmas time a merry time, throughout its length and breadth, in

the days of Queen Elizabeth.

Nay, out of this very anxiety to minister to the craving vanity of a

weak and worthless woman--the devices to which it gave rise and the

laborers whom it called into action--have arisen results which are not

amongst the least happy or important of those by its connection with

which the Christmas festival stands recommended. Under these impulses,

the old dramatic entertainments--of which we shall have occasion to

speak more at large hereafter--took a higher character and assumed a

more consistent form. The first regular English tragedy, called "Ferrex

and Porrex," and the entertainment of "Gammer Gurton's Needle," were

both productions of the early period of this queen's reign; and amid the

crowd of her worshippers (alas that it is so!) rose up--with the star

upon his forehead which is to burn for all time--the very first of all

created beings, William Shakespeare. These are amongst the strange

anomalies which the world, as it is constituted, so often presents, and

_must_ present at times, constitute it how we will. Shakespeare doing

homage to Queen Elizabeth! The loftiest genius and the noblest heart

that have yet walked this earth, in a character merely human, bowing

down before this woman with the soul of a milliner and no heart at all!

The "bright particular star" humbling itself before the temporal crown!

The swayer of hearts, the ruler of all men's minds, in virtue of his own

transcendent nature, recognizing the supremacy of this overgrown child,

because she presided over the temporalities of a half emancipated

nation, by rights derived to her from others and sanctioned by no

qualities of her own!

And yet if to the low passions of this vulgar queen, and the patronage

which they led her to extend to all who could best minister to their

gratification, we owe any part of that development by which this

consummate genius expanded itself, then do we stand in some degree

indebted to her for one of the greatest boons which has been bestowed

upon the human race; and as between her and mankind in general (for the

accounts between her and individuals, and still more that between her

and God, stand uninfluenced by this item) there is a large amount of

good to be placed to her credit. Against her follies of a day there

would have to be set her promotion of a wisdom whose lessons are for all

time; against the tears which she caused to flow, the human anguish

which she inflicted, and the weary, pining hours of the captives whom

she made, would stand the tears of thousands dried away, many and many

an aching heart beguiled of its sorrow, and many a captive taught to

feel that

"Stone walls do not a prison make,

Nor iron bars a cage;"

all the chords of human feeling touched with a hand that soothes as did

the harp of David, all the pages of human suffering stored with

consolations!

To any one who will amuse himself by looking over the Miracle Plays and

Masques, which were replaced by the more regular forms of dramatic

entertainment, and will then regale himself by the perusal of "Gammer

Gurton's Needle" or "Ferrex and Porrex," which came forward with higher

pretensions in the beginning of this reign, there will appear reason to

be sufficiently astonished at the rapid strides by which dramatic

excellence was attained before its close and during the next, even

without taking Shakespeare into the account at all. Put when we turn to

the marvels of this great magician, and find that in his hands not only

were the forms of the drama perfected, but that, without impeding the

action or impairing the interest invested in those forms, and besides

his excursions into the regions of imagination and his creations _out

of_ the natural world he has touched every branch of human knowledge and

struck into every train of human thought; that without learning, in the

popular sense, he has arrived at all the results and embodied all the

wisdom which learning is only useful if it teaches; that we can be

placed in no imaginable circumstances and under the influence of no

possible feelings of which we do not find exponents,--and _such_

exponents!--"in sweetest music," on his page; and above all, when we

find that all the final morals to be drawn from all his writings are

hopeful ones, that all the lessons which all his agents--joy or sorrow,

pain or pleasure--are made alike to teach are lessons of goodness--it is

impossible to attribute all this to aught but a revelation, or ascribe

to him any character but that of a prophet. Shakespeare knew more than

any other mere man ever knew; and none can tell how that knowledge came

to him. "All men's business and bosoms" lay open to him. We should not

like to have him quoted against us on _any_ subject. Nothing escaped

him, and he never made a mistake (we are not speaking of technical

ones). He was the universal interpreter into language of the human mind,

and he knew all the myriad voices by which nature speaks. He reminds us

of the vizier in the Eastern story, who is said to have understood the

languages of all animals. The utterings of the elements, the voices of

beasts and of birds, Shakespeare could translate into the language of

men; and the thoughts and sentiments of men he rendered into words as

sweet as the singing of birds. If the reign of Elizabeth had been

illustrated only by the advent of this great spirit, it might itself

have accounted for some portion of that prejudice which (illustrated, as

in fact it was, by much that was great and noble) blinds men still--or

induces them to shut their eyes--to the true personal claims and

character of that queen.

But we are digressing, again, as who does not when the image of

Shakespeare comes across him? To return:--

The court celebrations of Christmas were observed throughout the reign

of the first James; and the Prince Charles himself was an occasional

performer in the pageantries prepared for the occasion, at great cost.

But at no period do they appear to have been more zealously sought

after, or performed with more splendor, than during that which

immediately preceded the persecution, from whose effects they have never

since recovered into anything like their former lustihood. In the early

years of Charles the First's reign, the court pageants of this season

were got up with extraordinary brilliancy,--the king with the lords of

his court, and the queen with her ladies, frequently taking parts

therein. This was the case in 1630-31; and at the Christmas of 1632-33

the queen, says Sandys, "got up a pastoral in Somerset House, in which

it would seem she herself took a part. There were masques at the same

time, independently of this performance, the cost of which considerably

exceeded £2,000, besides that portion of the charge which was borne by

the office of the revels and charged to the accounts of that

department." In the same year, we learn that a grant of £450 was made to

George Kirke, Esq., gentleman of the robes, for the _masking attire_ of

the king and his party. In 1637 there is a warrant, under the privy

seal, to the same George Kirke for £150, to provide the masking dress of

the king; and, in the same year, another to Edmund Taverner for £1,400

towards the expenses of a masque to be presented at Whitehall on the

ensuing Twelfth Night. We have selected these from similar examples

furnished by Sandys, in order to give our readers some idea of the sums

expended in these entertainments, which sums will appear very

considerable when estimated by the difference between the value of

money in our days and that of two hundred years ago. Several of the

masques presented at court during this reign, and the preceding ones,

were written by Ben Jonson.

[Illustration: MUMMERS.--_Page 65._]

During the whole of this time, the forms of court ceremonial appear to

have been aped, and the royal establishments imitated as far as

possible, by the more powerful nobles; and the masques and pageantries

exhibited for the royal amusement were accordingly reproduced or

rivalled by them at their princely mansions in the country. Corporate

and other public bodies caught the infection all over the land; and each

landed proprietor and country squire endeavored to enact such state in

the eyes of his own retainers, as his means would allow. The sports and

festivities of the season were everywhere taken under the protection of

the lord of the soil; and all classes of his dependants had a customary

claim upon the hospitalities which he prepared for the occasion. The

masques of the court and of the nobles were imitated in the mummings of

the people,--of which we give a representation here, and which we shall

have occasion particularly to describe hereafter,--they having survived

the costly pageants of which they were the humble representatives. The

festival was thus rendered a universal one, and its amusements brought

within the reach of the indigent and the remote. The peasant, and even

the pauper, were made, as it were, once a year sharers in the mirth of

their immediate lord, and even of the monarch himself. The laboring

classes had enlarged privileges during this season, not only by custom,

but by positive enactment; and restrictive acts of Parliament, by which

they were prohibited from certain games at other periods, contained

exceptions in favor of the Christmas-tide. Nay, folly was, as it were,

crowned, and disorder had a license! Sandys quotes from Leland the form

of a proclamation given in his "Itinerary" as having been made by the

sheriff of York, wherein it is declared that all "thieves, dice-players,

carders" (with some other characters by name that are usually repudiated

by the guardians of order) "_and all other unthrifty folke_, be welcome

to the towne, whether they come late or early, att the reverence of the

high feast of Youle, till the twelve dayes be passed." The terms of this

proclamation were, no doubt, not intended to be construed in a grave and

literal sense, but were probably meant to convey something like a satire

upon the unbounded license of the season which they thus announce.

There are very pleasant evidences of the care which was formerly taken,

in high quarters, that the poor should not be robbed of their share in

this festival. The yearly increasing splendor of the royal celebrations

appears at one time to have threatened that result, by attracting the

country gentlemen from their own seats, and thereby withdrawing them

from the presidency of those sports which were likely to languish in

their absence. Accordingly, we find an order, in 1589, issued to the

gentlemen of Norfolk and Suffolk, commanding them "to depart from London

before Christmas, and to repair to their countries, there to keep

hospitality amongst their neighbors." And similar orders appear to have

been from time to time necessary, and from time to time repeated.

Amongst those bodies who were distinguished for the zeal of their

Christmas observances, honorable mention may be made of the two English

universities; and we shall have occasion hereafter to show that traces

of the old ceremonials linger still in those their ancient haunts. But

the reader who is unacquainted with this subject would scarcely be

prepared to look for the most conspicuous celebration of these revels,

with all their antics and mummeries, in the grave and dusty retreats of

the law. Such, however, was the case. The lawyers beat the doctors

hollow. Their ancient halls have rung with the sounds of a somewhat

barbarous revelry; and the walls thereof, had they voices, could tell

many an old tale, which the present occupants might not consider as

throwing any desirable light upon the historical dignities of the body

to which they belong. Our readers, no doubt, remember a certain scene in

"Guy Mannering," wherein the farmer Dinmont and Colonel Mannering are

somewhat inconsiderately intruded upon the carousals of Mr. Counsellor

Pleydell at his tavern in the city of Edinburgh and find that worthy

lawyer in what are called his "altitudes," being deeply engaged in the

ancient and not very solemn pastime of "High Jinks." Their memory may

probably present the counsellor "enthroned as a monarch in an

elbow-chair placed on the dining-table, his scratch-wig on one side, his

head crowned with a bottle-slider, his eye leering with an expression

betwixt fun and the effects of wine," and recall, assisted by the

jingle, some of the high discourse of his surrounding court:--

"Where is Gerunto now? and what's become of him?"

"Gerunto's drowned, because he could not swim," etc.

Now, if our readers shall be of opinion--as Colonel Mannering and the

farmer were--that the attitude and the occupation were scarcely

consistent with the dignity of a gentleman whom they had come to consult

on very grave matters, we may be as much to blame as was the

tavern-waiter on that occasion, in introducing them to the revels of the

Inns of Court. We will do what we can to soften such censure by stating

that there certainly appears at times to have arisen a suspicion, in the

minds of a portion of the profession, that the wig and gown were not

figuring to the best possible advantage on these occasions. For, in the

reign of the first James, we find an order issued by the benchers of

Lincoln's Inn, whereby the "under barristers were, by decimation, put

out of commons because the whole bar offended by not dancing on

Candlemas Day preceding, according to the ancient order of the society,

when the judges were present;" and this order is accompanied by a threat

"that, if the fault were repeated, they should be fined or disbarred."

There seems to have been a contest between the four Inns of Court as to

which should get up these pageantries with the greatest splendor, and

occasionally a struggle between the desire of victory and the

disinclination, or perhaps inability, to furnish the heavy cost at which

that victory was to be secured. Most curious particulars on these

subjects are furnished by the accompt-books of the houses: by the "Gesta

Grayorum" (which was published for the purpose of describing a

celebrated Christmas kept at Gray's Inn in 1594, and had its title

imitated from the then popular work called the "Gesta Romanorum"); by

Dugdale, in his "Origines Juridiciales,"; and by Nichols, in his

"Progresses of Queen Elizabeth." For some time Lincoln's Inn appears to

have carried it all its own way, having been first on the ground. The

Christmas celebrations seem to have been kept by this society from as

early a period as the reign of Henry VI.; although it was not until the

reign of Henry VIII. that they began to grow into celebrity, or at least

that we have any account of their arrangements. When, however, the

societies of the two Temples, and that of Gray's Inn, began, with a

laudable jealousy, to contest the palm of splendor, the necessary

expenditure appears occasionally to have "given them pause."

Accordingly, they held anxious meetings, at the approach of the season,

to decide the important question whether Christmas should be kept that

year or not; and one of the registers of the society of Lincoln's Inn,

bearing date the 27th of November, in the twenty-second year of the

reign of Henry VIII. contains the following order: "Yt is agreed that if

the two Temples do kepe Chrystemas, then Chrystemas to be kept here; and

to know this, the Steward of the House ys commanded to get knowledge,

and to advertise my master by the next day at night."

There is a curious story told in Baker's Chronicle of an awkward

predicament into which the society of Gray's Inn brought themselves by a

play which they enacted amongst their Christmas revels of 1527. The

subject of this play was to the effect that "Lord Governance was ruled

by Dissipation and Negligence; by whose evil order Lady Public-Weal was

put from Governance." Now, if these gentlemen did not intend, by this

somewhat delicate moral, any insinuation against the existing state of

things (which, being lawyers, and therefore courtiers, there is good

motive to believe they did not), it is, at all events, certain that, as

lawyers, they ought to have known better how to steer clear of all

offence to weak consciences. That respectable minister, Cardinal Wolsey,

felt himself (as we think he had good right to do) greatly scandalized

at what, if not designed, was, by accident, a palpable hit; and, in

order to teach the gentlemen of Gray's Inn that they were responsible

for wounds given, if they happened to shoot arrows in the dark, he

divested the ingenious author, Sergeant Roe, of his coif, and committed

him to the Fleet, together with one of the actors, of the name of

Moyle,--in order to afford them leisure for furnishing him with a

satisfactory explanation of the matter.

In Dugdale's "Origines Juridiciales," we have an account of a

magnificent Christmas which was kept at the Inner Temple, in the fourth

year of Queen Elizabeth's reign; at which the Lord Robert Dudley,

afterwards Earl of Leicester, presided, under the mock-title of

Palaphilos, Prince of Sophie, High Constable Marshal of the Knights

Templars, and Patron of the honorable order of Pegasus. A potentate with

such a title would have looked very foolish without a "tail;" and

accordingly he had for his master of the game no less a lawyer than

Christopher Hatton, afterwards Lord Chancellor of England, with four

masters of the revels, a variety of other officers, and fourscore

persons forming a guard. Gerard Leigh, who was so fortunate as to obtain

the dignity of a knight of Pegasus, describes, as an eye-witness, in his

"Accidence of Armorie," the solemn fooleries which were enacted on the

occasion by these worthies of the sword and of the gown.

Of course, it was not to be expected that such shrewd courtiers as

lawyers commonly are, if they had ever kept Christmas at all, should

fail to do so during the reign of this virgin queen, when its

celebration offered them such admirable opportunities for the

administration of that flattery which was so agreeable to her Majesty,

and might possibly be so profitable to themselves. We have great

pleasure in recording a speech made by her Majesty on one of these

occasions, nearly so much as two centuries and a half ago, but which for

its great excellence has come down to our days. The gentlemen of Gray's

Inn (their wits, probably, a little sharpened by the mistake which they

had made in her father's time) had ventured upon a dramatic performance

again; and, in the course of a masque which they represented before the

queen's Majesty, had administered to her copious draughts of that nectar

on which her Majesty's vanity was known to thrive so marvellously. They

appear, however, with a very nice tact, to have given her no more of it

on this occasion than was sufficient to put her Majesty into spirits,

without intoxicating her, for by this period of her life it took a great

deal of that sort of thing to intoxicate the queen's Majesty; and the

effect was of the pleasantest kind, and could not fail to be most

satisfactory to the gentlemen of Gray's Inn. For after the masque was

finished (in which we presume there had been a little dancing by the

lawyers who, would, as in duty bound, have stood on their wigs to

please her Majesty), and on the courtiers attempting, in _their_ turn,

to execute a dance, her Majesty was most graciously pleased to exclaim,

"What! shall we have bread and cheese after a banquet?"--meaning

thereby, we presume, to imply that the courtiers could not hope to leap

as high or, in any respect, to cut such capers as the lawyers had done.

Now, this speech of the virgin queen we have reported here less for the

sake of any intrinsic greatness in the thought or elegance in the form

than because, out of a variety of speeches by her Majesty, which have

been carefully preserved, we think this is about as good as any other,

and has the additional recommendation (which so few of the others have)

of exhibiting the virgin queen in a good humor. And, further, because

having recorded the disgrace into which the gentlemen of Gray's Inn

danced themselves, in the lifetime of her illustrious father, it is but

right that we should likewise record the ample indemnification which

they must have considered themselves to have received, at the lips of

his virgin daughter.

The book of Christmas · 第 3 / 20 段