where competence reigns and confidence is felt, the necessity of
common enjoyment soon arises. Men who are accustomed to meet
together for business will meet together for pleasure also; and
when the serious life of the land-owner is spent among his
fields, he does not remain a stranger to the joys of the people
who cultivate or surround them. Continual and general festivals
gave animation to the country life of Old England. What was their
primary origin? What traditions and customs served as their
foundation? How did the progress of rustic prosperity lead
gradually to this joyous movement of meetings, banquets, and
games? It is of little use to know the cause; the fact itself is
most worthy of our observation; and in the sixteenth century,
when civil discord had been brought to a term, we may follow it
in all its brilliant details.
{46}
At Christmas, before the gates of the castles, the herald,
bearing the arms of the family, thrice shouted Largesse!
"Then opened wide the baron's hall
To vassal, tenant, serf, and all;
Power laid his rod of rule aside,
And ceremony doffed his pride.
The heir, with roses in his shoes,
That night might village partner choose;
The lord, underogating, share
The vulgar game of 'post and pair.'" [Footnote 7]
[Footnote 7: Scott's "Marmion," introduction to Canto
sixth.]
Who shall describe the general joy and hospitality, the roaring
fire in the hall, the well-spread table, the beef and pudding,
and the abundance of good cheer which was then to be found in the
house of the farmer as well as in the mansion of the gentleman.
The dance, when the head began to swim with wassail; the songs of
minstrels, and tales of by-gone days, when the party had become
tired of dancing, were the pleasures which then reigned
throughout England, when
"All hail'd, with uncontroll'd delight
And general voice, the happy night,
That to the cottage, as the crown,
Brought tidings of salvation down.
* * * *
'Twas Christmas broach'd the mightiest ale;
'Twas Christmas told the merriest tale;
A Christmas gambol oft could cheer
The poor man's heart through half the year." [Footnote 8]
[Footnote 8: Ibid.]
{47}
These Christmas festivities lasted for twelve days, varied by a
thousand pleasures, kindled by the good wishes and presents of
New Year's Day, and terminated by the Feast of Kings on Twelfth
Day. But soon after came Plow Monday, the day on which work was
resumed, and the first day of labor also was marked by a feast.
"Good housewives, whom God has enriched enough,
Forget not the feasts that belong to the plow,"
says old Tusser, in his quaint rural poems. [Footnote 9]
[Footnote 9: Thomas Tusser, a poet of the sixteenth century,
was born about 1515, and died in 1583. He was the author of
some English Georgies, under the title of "Five hundreth
points of good husbandry, united to as many of good
huswifery."]
The spindle also had its festival. The harvest feast was one of
equality, and an avowal, as it were, of those mutual necessities
which bring men into union. On that day, masters and, servants
collected round the same table, and, mingling in the same
conversation, did not appear to be brought into contact with each
other by the complaisance of a superior desirous of rewarding his
inferior, but by an equal right to the pleasures of the day:
"For all that clear'd the crop or till'd the ground
Are guests by right of custom--old and young;
* * * *
Here once a year distinction low'rs its crest,
The master, servant, and the merry guest,
Are equal all; and round the happy ring
The reaper's eyes exulting glances fling,
And, warm'd with gratitude, he quits his place,
With sun-burn'd hands and ale-enliven'd face,
Refills the jug his honor'd host to tend,
To serve at once the master and the friend;
Proud thus to meet his smiles, to share his tale,
His nuts, his conversation, and his ale.
Such were the days--of days long past I sing." [Footnote 10]
[Footnote 10: Bloomfield's "Farmer's Boy," p. 40, ed 1845.]
{48}
Sowing-time, sheep-shearing, indeed, every epoch of interest in
rural life, was celebrated by similar meetings and banquets, and
by games of all kinds. But what day could equal the first of May,
brilliant with the joys of youth and the hopes of the year?
Scarce had the rising sun announced the arrival of this festive
morn, than the entire youthful population hastened into the woods
and meadows, to the river-bank and hill-side, accompanied by the
sounds of music, to gather their harvest of flowers; and,
returning laden with hawthorn and verdure, adorned the doors and
windows of their houses with their spoils, covered with blossoms
the May-pole which they had cut in the forest, and crowned with
garlands the horns of the oxen which were to drag it in triumph
through the village. Herrick, a contemporary of Shakspeare, thus
invites his mistress to go a Maying:
"Get up, get up for shame, the blooming morn
Upon her wings presents the god unshorn.
See how Aurora throws her fair
Fresh-quilted colors through the air;
Get up, sweet slug-a-bed, and see
The dew bespangling herb and tree.
Each flower has wept, and bow'd toward the east
Above an hour since, yet you are not dress'd,
Nay, not so much as out of bed;
When all the birds have matins said,
And sung their thankful hymns: 'tis sin,
Nay, profanation, to keep in,
When, as a thousand virgins on this day,
Spring sooner than the lark to fetch in May.
Come, my Corinna, come; and, coming, mark
How each field turns a street, each street a park
Made green, and trimm'd with trees; see how
Devotion gives each house a bough
Or branch; each porch, each door, ere this,
An ark, a tabernacle is,
Made up of white thorn neatly interwove,
As if here were those cooler shades of love."
{49}
The elegance of the cottages on May morning was imitated by the
castles; and the young gentlefolks, as well as the lads and
maidens of the village, went forth into the fields in search of
flowers. Joy is sure to introduce equality into pleasures; the
symbols of joy never vary, and are changed as little by
difference of rank as by difference of season. Here enjoyment,
led by abundance, seems to spend the year in continual
festivities. Just as the first of May displays its profusion of
verdure, as sheap-shearing fills the streets with flowers, and
harvest-home is adorned with ears of corn, so Christmas will
decorate the walls with ivy, holly, and evergreen. Just as
dances, races, shows, and rustic sports cause the sky of spring
to resound with their joyous tones, so games in which
"White shirts supplied the masquerade,
And smutted cheeks the visors made,"
will waken the echoes, on the cold December nights, with shouts
of gayety; and the May-pole and Christmas log will alike be borne
in triumph and extolled in song.
Amid these games, festivals, and banquets, at these innumerable
friendly meetings, and in this joyous and habitual conviviality
(to use the national expression), the minstrels took their place
and sang their songs. The subjects of these songs were the
traditions of the country, the adventures of popular heroes as
well as of noble champions, the exploits of Robin Hood against
the sheriff of Nottingham, as well as the conflicts of the
Percies with the Douglas clan. Thus the public manners called for
poetry; thus poetry originated in the manners of the people, and
became connected with all the interests, and with the entire
existence, of a population accustomed to live, to act, to
prosper, and to rejoice in common.
{50}
How could dramatic poetry have remained unknown to a people of
such a character, so frequently assembling together, and so fond
of holidays? We have every reason to believe that it was more
than once introduced into the games of the minstrels. The ancient
writers speak of them under the names of _mimi,
joculatores_, and _histriones._ Women were frequently
connected with their bands; and several of their ballads, among
others that of "The Nut-brown Maid," are evidently in the form of
dialogue. The minstrels, however, rather formed the national
taste, and directed it to the drama, than originated the drama
itself. The first attempts at a true theatrical performance are
difficult and expensive. The co-operation of a public power is
indispensable; and it is only in important and general
solemnities that the effect produced by the play can possibly
correspond to the efforts of imagination and labor which it has
cost. England, like France, Italy, and Spain, was indebted for
her first theatrical performances to the festivals of the clergy;
only they were, it would appear, of earlier origin in that
country than elsewhere. The performance of Mysteries in England
can be traced back as far as the twelfth century, and probably
originated at a still earlier period. But in France, the clergy,
after having erected theatres, were not slow to denounce them.
They had claimed the privilege in the hope of being able, by the
means of such performances, to maintain or stimulate the
conquests of the faith; but ere long they began to dread their
effects, and abandoned their employment. The English clergy were
more intimately associated with the tastes, habits, and
diversions of the people. The Church, also, took advantage of
that universal conviviality which I have just described. Was any
great religious ceremony to be celebrated? or was any parish in
want of funds? A _Church-ale_ [Footnote 11] was announced;
the church-wardens brewed some beer, and sold it to the people at
the door of the church, and to the rich in the interior of the
church itself.
[Footnote 11: Also called Whitsun-ale. Beer was so intimately
connected with the popular festivals that the word ale had
become synonymous with holiday.]
{51}
Every one contributed his money, presence, provisions, and mirth
to the festival; the joy of good works was augmented by the
pleasures of good cheer, and the piety of the rich rejoiced to
exceed, by their gifts, the price demanded. It often happened
that several parishes united to hold the _Church-ale_ by
turns for the profit of each. The ordinary games followed these
meetings; the minstrel, the morris-dance, and the performance of
Robin Hood, with Maid Marian and the Hobby-horse, were never
absent. The seasons of confession, Easter and Whitsuntide, also
furnished the Church and the people with periodical opportunities
for common rejoicings. Thus familiar with the popular manners,
the English clergy, when offering new pleasures to the people,
thought less of modifying them than of turning them to account;
and when they perceived the fondness of the people for dramatic
performances, whatever the subject might be, they had no idea of
renouncing so powerful a means of gaining popularity. In 1378,
the choristers of St. Paul's complained to Richard II. that
certain ignorant fellows had presumed to perform histories from
the Old Testament, "to the great prejudice of the clergy." After
this period, the Mysteries and Moralities never ceased to be,
both in churches and convents, a favorite amusement of the
nation, and a leading occupation of the ecclesiastics. At the
beginning of the sixteenth century, an Earl of Northumberland,
who was a great protector of literature, established, as a rule
of his household, that the sole business of one of his chaplains
should be to compose interludes. Toward the end of his reign,
Henry VIII. forbade the Church to continue these performances,
which, in the wavering state of his belief, were displeasing to
the king, and offended him sometimes as a Catholic and sometimes
as a Protestant.
{52}
But they reappeared after his death, and were sanctioned by such
high authority, that the young king, Edward VI., himself composed
a piece against the Papists, entitled "The Whore of Babylon;" and
Queen Mary, in her turn, commanded the performance; in the
churches, of popular dramas favorable to Popery. Finally, in
1569, we find the choristers of St. Paul's, "clothed in silk and
satin," playing profane pieces in Elizabeth's chapel, in the
different royal houses; and they were so well skilled in their
profession, that, in Shakspeare's time, they constituted one of
the best and most popular troops of actors in London.
Far, therefore, from opposing or seeking to change the taste of
the people for theatrical representations, the English clergy
hastened to gratify it. Their influence, it is true, gave to the
works which they brought on the stage a more serious and moral
character than was possessed in other countries by compositions
dependent upon the whims of the public, and cursed by the
anathemas of the Church. Notwithstanding its coarseness of ideas
and language, the English drama, which became so licentious in
the reign of Charles II., appears chaste and pure in the middle
of the sixteenth century, when compared to the first essays of
dramatic composition in France. But it did not the less continue
to be popular in its character, ignorant of all scientific
regularity, and faithful to the national taste. The clergy would
have lost much by endeavoring to suppress theatrical
performances. They possessed no exclusive privilege; and numerous
competitors vied with them for applause and success. Robin Hood
and Maid Marian, the Lord of Misrule and the Hobby-Horse, had not
yet disappeared.
{53}
Traveling actors, attached to the service of the powerful nobles,
traversed the counties of England under their auspices, and
obtained, by favor of a gratuitous performance before the mayor,
aldermen, and their friends, the right of exercising their
profession in the various towns, the court-yards of inns usually
serving as their theatre. As they were in a position to give
greater pomp to their exhibitions, and thus to attract a larger
number of spectators, the clergy struggled successfully against
their rivals, and even maintained a marked predominance, but
always upon condition of adapting their representations to the
feelings, habits, and imaginative character of the people, who
had been formed to a taste for poetry by their own festivals and
by the songs of the minstrels.
Such were the condition and tendency of dramatic poetry, when, at
the commencement of the reign of Elizabeth, it appeared
threatened by a two-fold danger. As it daily became more popular,
it at last awakened the anxiety of religious severity and fired
the ambition of literary pedantry. The national taste found
itself attacked, almost simultaneously, by the anathemas of the
Reformers and the pretensions of men of letters.
If these two classes of enemies had united in their opposition to
the drama, it would, perhaps, have fallen a victim to their
attacks. But while the Puritans wished to destroy it, men of
letters only desired to get it into their own hands. It was,
therefore, defended by the latter when the former inveighed
against its existence. Some influential citizens of London
obtained from Elizabeth the temporary suppression of stage-plays
within the jurisdiction of the civic authorities; but, beyond
that jurisdiction, the Blackfriars' Theatre and the court of the
Queen still retained their dramatic privileges.
{54}
The Puritans, by their sermons, may have alarmed some few
consciences, and occasioned some few scruples; and perhaps, also,
some sudden conversions may here and there have deprived the
May-day games of the performance of the Hobby-Horse, their
greatest ornament, and the special object of the wrath of the
preachers. But the time of the power of the Puritans had not yet
arrived, and, to obtain decisive success, it was too much to have
to overcome at once the national taste and the taste of the
court.
Elizabeth's court would well have liked to be classical.
Theological discussions had made learning fashionable. At that
time it was an essential part of the education of a noble lady to
be able to read Greek, and to distill strong waters. The known
taste of the queen had added to these the gallantries of ancient
mythology. "When she paid a visit at the house of any of her
nobility," says Warton, "at entering the hall she was saluted by
the Penates, and conducted to her privy-chamber by Mercury. The
pages of the family were converted into wood-nymphs, who peeped
from every bower; and the footmen gamboled over the lawns in the
figure of Satyrs. When she rode through the streets of Norwich,
Cupid, at the command of the mayor and aldermen, advancing from a
group of gods who had left Olympus to grace the procession, gave
her a golden arrow, which, under the influence of such
irresistible charms, was sure to wound the most obdurate heart:
'a gift,' says Holinshed, 'which her majesty, now verging to her
fiftieth year, received very thankfully.'" [Footnote 12]
[Footnote 12: Warton's "History of English Poetry," vol.
iii., p. 492, 493.]
But the court may strive in vain; it is not the purveyor of its
own pleasures; it rarely makes choice of them, invents them even
less frequently, and generally receives them at the hands of men
who make it their business to provide for its amusement.
{55}
The empire of classical literature, which was established in
France before the foundation of the stage, was the work of men of
letters, who derived protection from, and felt justly proud of,
the exclusive possession of a foreign erudition which raised them
above the rest of the nation. The court of France submitted to
the guidance of the men of letters; and the nation at large,
undecided how to act, and destitute of those institutions which
might have given authority to its habits and influence to its
tastes, formed into groups, as it were, around the court. In
England the drama had taken precedence of classic lore; ancient
history and mythology found a popular poetry and creed in
possession of the means of delighting the minds of the people;
and the study of the classics, which became known at a late
period, and at first only by the medium of French translations,
was introduced as one of those foreign fashions by which a few
men may render themselves remarkable, but which take root only
when they fall into harmonious accordance with the national
taste. The court itself sometimes affected, in evidence of its
attainments, exclusive admiration for ancient literature; but as
soon as it stood in need of amusement, it followed the example of
the general public; and, indeed, it was not easy to pass from the
exhibition of a bear-baiting to the pretensions of classical
severity, even according to the ideas then entertained regarding
it.
The stage, therefore, remained under the almost undisputed
government of the general taste; and science attempted only very
timid invasions of the prerogative. In 1561, Thomas Sackville,
Lord Buckhurst, procured the representation, in presence of
Elizabeth, of his tragedy of "Grorboduc," or "Forrex and Porrex,"
which critics have considered as the dramatic glory of the time
preceding Shakspeare.
{56}
This was, in fact, the first play which was properly divided into
acts and scenes, and written throughout in an elevated tone; but
it was far from pretending to a strict observance of the unities,
and the example of a very tiresome work, in which every thing was
done by means of conversation, did not prove very alluring either
to authors or actors. About the same period, other pieces
appeared on the stage, in greater conformity to the natural
instincts of the country, such as "The Pinner of Wakefield," and
"Jeronimo, or the Spanish Tragedy;" and for these the public
openly demonstrated their preference. Lord Buckhurst himself was
able to exercise no influence over the dominant taste, except by
remaining faithful to it. His "Mirrour for Magistrates," a
collection of incidents from the history of England, narrated in
a dramatic form, passed rapidly into the hands of all readers,
and became an inexhaustible mine for poets to draw from. Works of
this kind were best suited to minds educated by the songs of the
minstrels; and this was the erudition most relished by the
majority of the gentlefolks of the country, whose reading seldom
extended beyond a few collections of tales, ballads, and old
chronicles. The drama fearlessly appropriated to itself subjects
so familiar to the multitude; and historical plays, under the
name of "Histories," delighted the English with the narrative of
their own deeds, the pleasant sound of national names, the
exhibition of popular customs, and the delineation of the mode of
life of all classes, which were all comprised in the political
history of a people who have ever taken part in the
administration of their national affairs.
{57}
Beside these national histories, some few incidents from ancient
histories, or the annals of other nations, took their place,
commonly disfigured by the mixture of fabulous events. But
neither authors nor public felt the slightest anxiety with regard
to their origin and nature. They were invariably overloaded with
those fantastic details, and those forms borrowed from the common
habits of life, with which children so often decorate the objects
which they are obliged to picture to themselves by the aid of
their imagination alone. Thus Tamburlaine appeared in his chariot
drawn by the kings whom he had conquered, and complaining
bitterly of the slow pace and miserable appearance of his team.
On the other hand, Vice, the usual buffoon of dramatic
compositions, performed, under the name of Ambidexter, the
principal part in Preston's tragedy of "Cambyses," which was thus
converted into a Morality which would have been intolerably
tedious if the spectators had not had the gratification of seeing
a prevaricating judge flayed alive upon the stage, by means of "a
false skin," as we are duly informed by the author. The
performance, though almost entirely deficient in decorations and
changes of scenery, was animated by material movement, and by the
representation of sensible objects. When tragedies were
performed, the stage was hung with black; and in an inventory of
the properties of a troop of comedies, we find enumerated, "the
Moor's limbs, four Turks' heads, old Mahomet's head, one wheel
and frame in the siege of London, one great horse with his legs,
one dragon, one rock, one cage, one tomb, and one hell's mouth."
[Footnote 13] This is a curious specimen of the means of interest
which it was then thought necessary to employ upon the stage.
[Footnote 13: Malone's Shakspeare, vol. iii., p. 309-313 ed.
1821.]
{58}
And yet, at this period, Shakspeare had already appeared! and,
before Shakspeare's advent, the stage had constituted, not only
the chief gratification of the multitude, but the favorite
amusement of the most distinguished men! Lord Southampton went to
the theatre every day. As early as 1570, one, and probably two,
regular theatres existed in London. In 1583, a short time after
the temporary victory gained by the Puritans over the performance
of stage-plays in that city, there were eight troops of actors in
London, each of whom performed three times a week. In 1592, that
is, eight years before the time when Hardy at length obtained
permission to open a theatre in Paris, which had previously been
impossible on account of the useless privilege possessed by the
"Brethren of the Passion," an English pamphleteer complained most
indignantly of "some shallow-brained censurers," who had dared
"mightily to oppugn" the performance of plays, which, he says,
are frequented by all "men that are their own masters--as
gentlemen of the Court, the Inns of Court, and the number of
captains and soldiers about London." [Footnote 14] Finally, in
1596, so vast a multitude of persons went by water to the
theatres, which were nearly all situated on the banks of the
Thames, that it became necessary considerably to augment the
number of boatmen.
[Footnote 14: See Nash, "Pierce Penniless's Supplication to
the Devil," p. 59, reprinted by the Shakspeare Society in
1842.]