Such are some of the testimonies borne by the parties themselves to

their own right pleasant follies, and the expense at which they

maintained them; and to these we will add another, coming from an

adverse quarter, and showing the light in which these costly levities

had already come to be regarded by men of sterner minds so early as the

reign of Elizabeth. The following very curious passage is part of an

extract made by Brand, from a most rare book entitled "The Anatomie of

Abuses,"--the work of one Phillip Stubs, published in London in

1585,--and gives a quaint picture of the Lord of Misrule and his

retainers, as viewed through Puritan optics.

"Firste," says Master Stubs, "all the wilde heades of the parishe

conventynge together, chuse them a grand Capitaine (of mischeef) whom

they innoble with the title of my _Lorde of Misserule_, and hym they

crown with great solemnitie, and adopt for their kyng. This kyng

anoynted, chuseth for the twentie, fourtie, three score, or a hundred

lustie guttes like to hymself, to waite uppon his lordely majestie, and

to guarde his noble persone. Then every one of these his menne he

investeth with his liveries of greene, yellowe or some other light

wanton colour. And as though that were not (baudie) gaudy enough I

should saie, they bedecke themselves with scarffes, ribons, and laces,

hanged all over with golde rynges, precious stones, and other jewelles:

this doen, they tye about either legge twentie or fourtie belles with

rich handkercheefes in their handes, and sometymes laied acrosse over

their shoulders and neckes, borrowed for the moste parte of their pretie

Mopsies and loovyng Bessies, for bussyng them in the darcke. Thus

thinges sette in order, they have their hobbie horses, dragons, and

other antiques, together with their baudie pipers, and thunderyng

drommers, to strike up the Deville's Daunce withall" (meaning the Morris

Dance), "then marche these heathen companie towardes the church and

churche yarde, their pipers pipyng, drommers thonderyng, their stumppes

dauncyng, their belles iynglyng, their handkerchefes swyngyng about

their heades like madmen, their hobbie horses and other monsters

skyrmishyng amongst the throng: and in this sorte they goe to the

churche (though the minister bee at praier or preaçhyng) dauncyng and

swingyng their handkercheefes over their heades, in the churche, like

devilles incarnate, with suche a confused noise that no man can heare

his owne voice. Then the foolishe people, they looke, they stare, they

laugh, they fleere, and mount upon formes and pewes, to see these

goodly pageauntes, solemnized in this sort."

At the Christmas celebration held at Gray's Inn in 1594, to which we

have already alluded, the person selected to fill the office of

Christmas Prince was a Norfolk gentleman of the name of Helmes, whose

leg, like that of Sir Andrew Aguecheek, appears "to have been formed

under the star of a galliard." He is described as being "accomplished

with all good parts, fit for so great a dignity, and also a very proper

man in personage, and very active in dancing and revelling." The revels

over which this mock monarch presided were, as our readers will

remember, exhibited before Queen Elizabeth; and it was the exquisite

performance of this gentleman and his court which her Majesty described

as bearing the same relation for excellence to those of her own

courtiers which a banquet does to bread and cheese. We must refer such

of our readers as are desirous of informing themselves as to the nature

and taste of the devices which could make her Majesty so eloquent, to

the "Gesta Grayorum;" contenting ourselves with giving them such notion

thereof, as well as of the high dignities which appertained to a Lord of

Misrule, as may be conveyed by a perusal of the magnificent style and

titles assumed by Mr. Henry Helmes on his accession. They were enough to

have made her Majesty jealous, if she had not been so good-natured a

queen; for looking at the _philosophy_ of the thing, she was about as

much a mock monarch as himself, and could not dance so well. To be sure,

she was acknowledged by this potentate as Lady Paramount; and to a woman

like Elizabeth, it was something to receive personal homage from--

"The High and Mighty Prince Henry, Prince of Purpoole, Archduke of

Stapulia and Bernardia; Duke of High and Nether Holborn; Marquis of St.

Giles and Tottenham; Count Palatine of Bloomsbury and Clerkenwell; Great

Lord of the Cantons of Islington, Kentish Town, Paddington, and

Knightsbridge; Knight of the most Heroical Order of the Helmet, and

Sovereign of the same"!

It is admitted that no man can be a great actor who has not the faculty

of divesting himself of his personal identity, and persuading himself

that he really is, for the time, that which he represents himself to be;

his doing which will go far to persuade others into the same belief. Now

as her Majesty has pronounced upon the excellence of Mr. Henry Helmes's

acting, and if we are therefore to suppose that that gentleman had

contrived to mystify both himself and her, she would naturally be not a

little vain of so splendid a vassal. But seriously, it is not a little

amusing to notice the good faith with which these gentlemen appear to

have put on and worn their burlesque dignities, and the real homage

which they not only expected, but actually received. If the tricks

which they played during their "brief authority," were not of that

mischievous kind which "make the angels weep," they were certainly

fantastic enough to make those who are "a little lower than the angels"

smile. A Lord Mayor in his gilt coach seems to be a trifle compared with

a Lord of Misrule entering the city of London in former days; and the

following passage from Warton's "History of English Poetry," exhibits

amusingly enough the sovereign functions seriously exercised by this

important personage, and the homage, both ludicrous and substantial,

which he sometimes received:--

"At a Christmas celebrated in the hall of the Middle Temple, in the year

1635, the jurisdiction privileges and parade of this mock monarch are

thus circumstantially described. He was attended by his Lord Keeper,

Lord Treasurer with eight white staves, a Captain of his Band of

Pensioners and of his guard, _and with two Chaplains who were so

seriously impressed with an idea of his regal dignity that, when they

preached before him on the preceding Sunday in the Temple Church, on

ascending the pulpit they saluted him with three low bows_. He dined

both in the Hall and in his Privy Chamber under a cloth of Estate. The

pole-axes for his Gentlemen Pensioners were borrowed of Lord Salisbury.

Lord Holland, his temporary justice in Eyre, supplies him with venison

on demand; and the Lord Mayor and Sheriffs of London with wine. On

Twelfth-day, at going to Church, he received many petitions which he

gave to his Master of Requests; and like other kings he had a favourite,

whom--with others, gentlemen of high quality--he knighted at returning

from Church."

The Christmas Prince on this occasion was Mr. Francis Vivian, who

expended from his own private purse the large sum of £2,000 in support

of his dignities. Really, it must have tried the philosophy of these

gentlemen to descend from their temporary elevation, into the ranks of

ordinary life. A deposed prince like that high and mighty prince, Henry,

Prince of Purpoole, must have felt, on getting up on the morrow of

Candlemas-day, some portion of the sensations of Abou Hassan on the

morning which succeeded his Caliphate of a day, when the disagreeable

conviction was forced upon him that he was no longer Commander of the

Faithful, and had no further claim to the services of Cluster-of-Pearls,

Morning-Star, Coral-Lips or Fair-Face. In the case, however, of Mr.

Francis Vivian, it is stated that after his deposition he was knighted

by the king,--by way, we suppose, of breaking his fall.

In Wood's "Athenæ Oxonienses," mention is made of a very splendid

Christmas ceremonial observed at St. John's College, Oxford, in the

reign of our first James, which was presided over by a Mr. Thomas

Tooker, whom we elsewhere find called "Tucker." From a manuscript

account of this exhibition, Wood quotes the titles assumed by this

gentleman in his character of Christmas Prince; and we will repeat them

here, for the purpose of showing that the legal cloisters were not the

only ones in which mirth was considered as no impeachment of

professional gravity, and that humor (such as it is) was an occasional

guest of the wisdom which is proverbially said to reside in wigs--of

_all_ denominations. From a comparison of these titles with those by

which Mr. Henry Helmes illustrated his own magnificence at Gray's Inn,

our readers may decide for themselves upon the relative degrees of the

wit which flourished beneath the shelter of the respective gowns. Though

ourselves a Cantab, we have no skill in the measurement of the relations

of small quantities. Of the hearty mirth in each case there is little

doubt; and humor of the finest quality could have done no more than

produce that effect, and might probably have failed to do so much. The

appetite is the main point. "The heart's all," as Davy says. A small

matter made our ancestors laugh, because they brought stomachs to the

feast of Momus. And, Heaven save the mark! through how many national

troubles has that same joyous temperament (which is the farthest thing

possible from levity,--one of the phases of deep feeling,--) helped to

bring the national mind! The "merry days" of England were succeeded by

what may be called her "age of tears,"--the era of the sentimentalists,

when young gentlemen ceased to wear cravats, and leaned against pillars

in drawing-rooms in fits of moody abstraction or under the influence of

evident inspiration, and young ladies made lachrymatories of their

boudoirs, and met together to weep, and in fact went through the world

weeping. Amid all its absurdity, there was some real feeling at the

bottom of this too; and therefore it, too, had its pleasure. But there

is to be an end of this also. Truly are we falling upon the "evil days"

of which we may say we "have no pleasure in them." Men are neither to

laugh nor smile, now, without distinctly knowing why. We are in the age

of the philosophers.--All this time, however, Mr. Thomas Tucker is

waiting to have his style and titles proclaimed; and thus do we find

them duly set forth:--

"The most magnificent and renowned THOMAS, by the favor of Fortune,

Prince of Alba Fortunata, Lord of St. John's, High Regent of the Hall,

Duke of St. Giles's, Marquis of Magdalen's, Landgrave of the Grove,

Count Palatine of the Cloysters, Chief Bailiff of Beaumont, High Ruler

of Rome, Master of the Manor of Walton, Governor of Gloucester Green,

sole Commander of all Titles, Tournaments, and Triumphs, Superintendent

in all Solemnities whatever."

From these titles,--as well as from those which we have already

mentioned as being assumed by the courtiers of the illustrious Prince of

Sophie, our readers will perceive that alliteration was an esteemed

figure in the rhetoric of the revels.

In order to give our readers a more lively idea of this potentate, we

have, as the frontispiece to our second part, introduced a Lord of

Misrule to preside over the Christmas sports therein described. Although

the titles with which we have there invested him are taken from the

"Gesta Grayorum," the dress in which the artist has bestowed him is not

copied from any one of the particular descriptions furnished by the

different records. He is intended to represent the ideal of a Christmas

prince, and not the portrait of any particular one of whom we have

accounts. The artist's instructions were therefore confined to investing

him with a due magnificence (referring to the records only so far as to

keep the costume appropriate) and with a complacent sense of his own

finery and state, and we think that Mr. Seymour has succeeded very

happily in catching and embodying the mock heroic of the character. The

Prince of Purpoole, or His Highness of Sophie, must have looked just

such a personage as he has represented.

We must not omit to observe that a corresponding officer appears to have

formerly exercised his functions at some of the colleges at Cambridge,

under the more classical title of Imperator. And we must further state

that at Lincoln's-Inn, in the early times of their Christmas

celebrations, there appear to have been elected (besides the Lord of

Misrule, and, we presume, in subordination to him) certain dignitaries

exercising a royal sway over the revelries of particular days of the

festival. In the account given by Dugdale of the Christmas held by this

society in the ninth year of the reign of Henry VIII., mention is

made--besides the Marshal and (as he is there called) the Master of the

Revels--of a King chosen for Christmas day, and an officer for

Childermas day having the title of King of the Cockneys. A relic of this

ancient custom exists in the Twelfth Night King, whom it is still usual

to elect on the festival of the Epiphany, and of whom we shall have

occasion to speak at length in his proper place.

The length of the period over which the sway of this potentate extended

does not seem to be very accurately defined, or rather it is probable

that it varied with circumstances. Strictly speaking, the Christmas

season is in our day considered to terminate with Twelfth Night, and the

festival itself to extend over that space of time of which this night on

one side and Christmas eve on the other are the limits. In ancient

times, too, we find frequent mention of the _twelve_ days of Christmas.

Thus the George Ferrers of whom we have spoken, is appointed "to be in

his hyness household for the twelve days;" and he dates one of his

communications to Sir Thomas Cawarden, "From Greenwich y^{e} second of

January and y^{e} ix^{th} day of o^{r} rule." In the extract from the

Household-Book of the Northumberland family which we have already

quoted, mention is also made of the "Playes, Interludes and Dresinge

that is plaid befor his lordship in his hous in the xijth dayes of

Christenmas." Stow, however, says that "these Lords beginning their rule

at Allhallond Eve, continued the same till the morrow after the Feast of

the Purification, commonly called Candlemas day;" and that during all

that time there were under their direction "fine and subtle disguisings,

masks and mummeries, with playing at cards for counters, nayles and

points in every house, more for pastimes than for gaine." This would

give a reign of upwards of three months to these gentlemen. Dugdale, in

describing the revels of the Inner Temple speaks of the three principal

days being All-hallows, Candlemas, and Ascension days,--which would

extend the period to seven months; and the masque of which we have

spoken as forming the final performance of the celebrated Christmas of

1594, described in the "Gesta Grayorum," is stated to have been

represented before the queen at Shrovetide. At the Christmas exhibition

of St. John's college, Oxford, held in 1607, Mr. Thomas Tucker did not

resign his office till Shrove-Tuesday; and the costly masque of which we

have spoken as being presented by the four Inns of Court to Charles I.,

and whose title was "The Triumph of Peace," was exhibited in February of

1633. In Scotland, the rule of the Abbot of Unreason appears to have

been still less limited in point of time; and he seems to have held his

court and made his processions at any period of the year which pleased

him. These processions, it appears, were very usual in the month of May

(and here we will take occasion to observe parenthetically, but in

connection with our present subject, that the practice at _all_ festival

celebrations of selecting some individual to enact a principal and

presiding character in the ceremonial is further illustrated by the

ancient May King, and by the practice, not yet wholly forgotten, of

crowning on the first of that month a Queen of the May. This subject we

shall have occasion to treat more fully when we come to speak in some

future volume of the beautiful customs of that out-of-doors season).

From what we have stated, it appears probable that the officer who was

appointed to preside over the revels so universally observed at

Christmas time, extended, as a matter of course, his presidency over all

those which--either arising out of them or unconnected therewith--were

performed at more advanced periods of the succeeding year; that in fact,

the Christmas prince was, without new election, considered as special

master of the revels till the recurrence of the season. It is not

necessary for us to suppose that the whole of the intervals lying

between such stated and remote days of celebration were filled up with

festival observances; or that our ancestors, under any calenture of the

spirits, could aim at extending Christmas over the larger portion of

the year. It is, however, apparent that although the common observances

of the season were supposed to fall within the period bounded by the

days of the Nativity and the Epiphany, the special pageantries with a

view to which the Lords of Misrule were appointed in the more exalted

quarters were in years of high festival spread over a much more extended

time, and that their potential dignities were in full force, if not in

full display, from the eve of All-hallows to the close of Candlemas day.

It is stated in Drake's "Shakspeare and his Times," that the festivities

of the season, which were appointed for at least twelve days, were

frequently extended over a space of six weeks; and our readers know from

their own experience that, even in these our days of less prominent and

ceremonial rejoicing, the holiday-spirit of the season is by no means to

be restrained within the narrower of those limits. The Christmas feeling

waits not for Christmas day. The important preparations for so great a

festival render this impossible. By the avenues of most of the senses,

the heralds of old Father Christmas have long before approached to awake

it from its slumber. Signal notes which there is no mistaking, have been

played on the visual and olfactory organs for some time past, and the

palate itself has had foretastes of that which is about to be. From the

day on which his sign has been seen in the heavens, the joyous

influences of the star have been felt and the moment the school-boy

arrives at his home he is in the midst of Christmas. And if the "coming

events" of the season "cast their shadows before," so, amid all its

cross-lights it would be strange if there were no reflections flung

behind. The merry spirit which has been awakened and suffered to play

his antics so long is not to be laid by the exorcism of a word. After so

very absolute and unquestioned a sway, it is not to be expected that

Momus should abdicate at a moment's notice. Accordingly, we find that,

any thing enacted to the contrary notwithstanding, the genial feelings

of the time and the festivities springing out of them contrive to

maintain their footing throughout the month of January; and Christmas

keeps lingering about our homes till he is no longer answered by the

young glad voices to whom he has not as yet begun to utter his solemn

warnings and expound his sterner morals, and for whom his coming is

hitherto connected with few memories of pain. Till the merry urchins

have gone back to school there will continue to be willing subjects to

the Lord of Misrule.

In Scotland, the Abbot of Unreason was frequently enacted by persons of

the highest rank; and James V. is himself said to have concealed his

crown beneath the mitre of the merry abbot. As in England, his revels

were shared by the mightiest of the land; but they appear to have been

of a less inoffensive kind and to have imitated more unrestrainedly the

license of the Roman Saturnalia than did the merry-makings of the

South. The mummeries of these personages (a faint reflection of which

still exists in the Guisars whom we shall have to mention hereafter), if

less costly than those of their brethren in England, were not less

showy; and though much less quaint, were a great deal more free. "The

body-guards of the Abbot of Unreason were all arrayed in gaudy colors

bedecked with gold or silver lace, with embroidery and silken scarfs,

the fringed ends of which floated in the wind. They wore chains of gold

or baser metal gilt and glittering with mock jewels. Their legs were

adorned and rendered voluble by links of shining metal hung with many

bells of the same material twining from the ankle of their buskins to

their silken garters, and each flourished in his hand a rich silk

handkerchief brocaded over with flowers. This was the garb of fifty or

more youths, who encircled the person of the leader. They were

surrounded by ranks, six or more in depth, consisting of tall, brawny,

fierce-visaged men covered with crimson or purple velvet bonnets, and

nodding plumes of the eagle and the hawk, or branches of pine, yew, oak,

fern, boxwood, or flowering heath. Their jerkins were always of a hue

that might attract the eye of ladies in the bower or serving-damsels at

the washing-green. They had breeches of immense capacity so padded or

stuffed as to make each man occupy the space of five in their natural

proportions; and in this seeming soft raiment they concealed weapons of

defence or offence, with which to arm themselves and the body-guard if

occasion called for resistance. To appearance, they had no object but

careless sport and glee,--some playing on the Scottish harp, others

blowing the bagpipes or beating targets for drums, or jingling bells.

Whenever the procession halted they danced, flourishing about the

banners of their leader. The exterior bands perhaps represented in dumb

show or pantomime the actions of warriors or the wildest buffoonery; and

these were followed by crowds who, with all the grimaces and phrases of

waggery, solicited money or garniture from the nobles and gentry that

came to gaze upon them. Wherever they appeared, multitudes joined them,

some for the sake of jollity, and not a few to have their fate predicted

by spae-wives, warlocks, and interpreters of dreams, who invariably were

found in the train of the Abbot of Unreason."

In England, not only was this merry monarch appointed over the revelries

of the great and the opulent, but--as of most of the forms of amusement

over which he presided, so of the president himself--we find a rude

imitation in the Christmas celebrations of the commonalty. Nor was the

practice confined to towns or left exclusively in the hands of corporate

or public bodies. The quotation which we have already made from Stubs's

"Anatomie of Abuses," refers to a rustic Lord of Misrule; and while the

antics which took place under his governance do not seem to have risen

much above the performances of the morris-dancers, the gaudiness of the

tinsel attire paraded by him and his band forms an excellent burlesque

of the more costly finery of their superiors. Nay, the amusements

themselves exhibit nearly as much wisdom as those of the court (with

less of pretension), and we dare say created a great deal more fun at a

far less cost. As to the Scottish practices, our readers will not fail

to observe from our last quotation that the lordly Abbot and his train

were little better than a set of morris-dancers themselves, and that so

much of their practices as was innocent differed nothing from those

which Stubs and his brother Puritans deemed so ridiculous in a set of

parish revellers. In fact, the Lord of Misrule seems to have set himself

up all over the land; and many a village had its master Simon who took

care that the sports should not languish for want of that unity of

purpose and concentration of mirth to which some directing authority is

so essential.

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