The Elizabethan Stage, Vol. 1

The document was then referred to Burghley, with the following summary of its contents:

Burghley then gave this direction:

W. Burghley.

The document is then further endorsed with the report of Burghley's referees:

Hereon Burghley comments:

W. Burghley.

Here the minutes stop, but Burghley must have been satisfied and must have allowed the arrangement to go forward, for on 10 January 1598 a new warrant was issued, in the place of that previously stayed, for the £200 due on account of 1593-6, and for the annual £66 6s. 8d., 'by way of composition for defraying the ordinary services of plays only'. Apparently the fixed rate was made retrospective for 1593-6.[307] Two or three points of interest arise from the document just printed. It seems curious that no share in the composition is awarded to the Clerk. Possibly Blagrave, old and disappointed, was in practical retirement at Bedwyn; but in that case he would naturally have appointed and claimed allowance for a deputy. On the other hand, a new post, of Groom of the Revels, corresponding to that of Groom of the Tents which had existed since 1544, seems to have been created, probably for the benefit of Thomas Clatterbocke, who, unless two generations are involved, had served the Office continuously as a foreman tailor since 1548;[308] and it is to be gathered that some redistribution of duties and emoluments between the Yeoman and the Groom was in progress. The Porter of St. John's Gate, also, now seems to be classed as an officer, or perhaps rather a 'servitor', of the Revels; and in this post John Dauncy has been succeeded since 1588-9 by John Griffeth.[309] The sum of £66 6s. 8d. allowed for ordinary charges was evidently made up of £40 for officers' 'wages' and £26 6s. 8d. for tradesmen's bills and miscellaneous expenses. This last sum is so small as to suggest that the Office had been relieved both of the emption of stuffs and of the payment of tailors and property-makers. After paying £19 to the inferior officers, Tilney had £21 left for his own 'wages'. This amount is out of proportion to the double rate, of 4s. as against the 2s. paid to each inferior officer, which the Master had been accustomed to receive for each day's or night's attendance. But the accounts for 1582-3, 1584-5, and 1587-8 show that the attendances made by Tilney, who possibly exercised a much more detailed supervision of his Office than either Benger or Cawarden had attempted, were far in excess, during those years, of those of his subordinates. Every officer attended for the twenty annual days of 'airing' and for the actual nights, which were sixteen in 1582-3, and fourteen in 1584-5 and 1587-8, of the performances. In addition, Tilney attended for 106, 117, and 116 days respectively, and the other officers for only 60, 51, and 28 (in the case of the Yeoman, 38) days respectively, in these three years.[310] Probably he liked to be at Court, whether there was much to do or not. The average allowances for wages had therefore been about £29 10s. a year for the Master and £7 10s. a year for each inferior officer, so that the composition was by no means unduly in Tilney's favour. Moreover, he had introduced a practice of taking to Court a doorkeeper and three other attendants, and charging 1s. a day as diet for each. Probably these were his personal servants, and he got no further allowance for them under the composition. The precedence of the Master of the Revels at Court was fixed by a certificate of the Heralds in 1588, which directed that in the procession to St. Paul's for a thanksgiving after the Armada he should walk with the Knights Bachelor.[311]

Of course, the 'wages' dealt with by the composition and charged to the Revels Account were quite distinct from the 'fees' payable to the officers out of the Exchequer in virtue of their patents. These had been settled in Cawarden's time, and, so far as the inferior officers were concerned, do not appear to have been varied since. The Clerk Comptroller was entitled to 8d. a day, together with four yards of woollen cloth, worth 6s. 8d. each, from the Wardrobe. In practice, however, the livery had been replaced by a money allowance of 26s. 8d. charged half on the Revels and half on the Tents.[312] The Clerk had 8d. a day, and a money payment from the Treasury of 24s. a year in lieu of livery; the Yeoman 6d. a day, and a livery 'such as Yeomen of the household have' at the Wardrobe. The Master's fee, alike in the patents of Cawarden, Benger, and Tilney, is given as £10. But Tilney, according to a statement made by his successor about 1611, received £100 'for a better recompence'.[313] In addition to fee and wages, each of the officers was entitled under his patent to an official residence. The Master held his place 'cum omnibus domibus mansionibus regardis proficuis iuribus libertatibus et advantagiis eidem officio quovismodo pertinentibus sive spectantibus vel tali officio pertinere sive spectare debentibus'. The Clerk Comptroller could claim a house, 'ubi paviliones ... positi sunt aut erunt' to be assigned by the Master of the Tents; the Clerk, one at the staura of the Revels or the Tents, to be assigned by the Master of one or other Office; the Yeoman 'one sufficient house or mancion such as hereafter shall be assigned to him' for the keeping of the vestures. Cawarden had provided these houses at the Blackfriars and had taken allowances in his accounts of £10 for his own and £5 each for those of his three subordinates, as well as one of £6 13s. 4d. for the work and store rooms of the Office.[314] After his death suitable lodgings were available at St. John's. During the interregnum the Master's lodging was utilized as a supplementary storehouse. It was consequently not ready for Tilney on his appointment, and he was allowed £13 6s. 8d. a year for lodgings elsewhere.[315] An undated letter from him at the Revels Office to Sir William More, complaining of the conduct of a neighbour, suggests that he found these at the Blackfriars, and here he seems to have remained, at any rate until 1582.[316] But by 1586-7 he had moved to St. John's, where he occupied not his proper lodging but that of the Comptroller, for which he paid £16 a year. This we learn from a careful survey made at that date by Thomas Graves, Surveyor of the Office of Works.[317] He was comfortably housed enough, for he had thirteen chambers, with a parlour, hall, kitchen, stable and other appurtenances, and a 'convenient garden'. The Clerk had eleven rooms and a stable, and the Yeoman seven and a barn. The addition of the Master's lodging to the space available for official purposes had presumably removed the difficulties of accommodation of which Fish had complained in 1574. In addition to the 'Great Hall' and a 'great chamber', there were a cutting house and three 'woorking housez' below the hall. It may be added that there had been some changes during Tilney's Mastership, both of Clerk Comptroller and of Yeoman. On 15 October 1584 William Honing was appointed Comptroller in place of Edward Buggin.[318] On 25 June 1596, Honing having resigned, Edmund Pakenham was appointed as from 29 September 1595.[319] The last Yeoman of the reign was Edward Kirkham. His patent, in succession to Walter Fish, then dead, is dated on 28 April 1586.[320] But it refers to his 'service done in the Revels', and it is clear from the account for 1582-3 that he was already employed during that year, probably as deputy to Fish, in whose place he signed the book.[321] Fish signed that for 1580-1, and that for 1581-2 is missing. Kirkham's activities as a member of the syndicate formed to finance the Chapel plays in 1601 are a matter for discussion elsewhere.[322]

Tilney remained Master of the Revels until his death on 20 August 1610. But with the new reign he appears to have exercised most of his functions through his nephew, Sir George Buck, as his deputy and prospective successor. Buck had been in the Cadiz expedition of 1596, and was not improbably the Mr. Buck who carried dispatches for Cecil to Middelburgh in the Low Countries and afterwards in England during the autumn of 1601.[323] At the funeral of Elizabeth he received livery as an Esquire of the Body, probably extraordinary.[324] Hopes of the Mastership seem to have been held out to him as early as 1597, to the despair of another Esquire of the Body, John Lyly, the dramatist, who considered that he had claims upon the reversion to the Mastership, and pretty clearly regarded the bestowal of it upon another as a distinct breach of faith on the part of the Queen. Several letters of his referring to the matter are preserved at Hatfield and elsewhere. The earliest and most important of these is dated 22 December 1597 and addressed to Sir Robert Cecil. Herein Lyly says:

To the Queen herself Lyly wrote:

The date of this petition is probably 1598, since a second letter to Cecil, dated 9 September 1598, specifies the same period of 'ten yeres', during which Lyly had had 'nothing applied to my wantes but promises'. On 27 February 1601, a third letter to Cecil, asking for his aid in obtaining a grant out of property forfeited after the Essex conspiracy, suggests that 'after 13 yeres servic and suit for the Revells, I may turne all my forces & frends to feed on the Rebells'. This was written in connexion with a second petition to the Queen, in which occurs the following passage:

The general drift of these documents is fairly clear. It would seem that Lyly received promises of advancement from Elizabeth about 1585, probably as a result of the success of his plays; that in 1588 he was 'entertained the queen's servant', with a more or less authorized expectation of place in the Revels; that in 1597 his claims were set aside in favour of Buck; and that, after unavailing protests, he made the best of the situation and attempted to obtain what compensation he could for his disappointment. I find some confirmation of the view that about 1588 Lyly came to be regarded, possibly on account of the aid rendered by his pen to the bishops against Martin Marprelate, as having some right of succession to a place at Court, in an allusion of Gabriel Harvey, who in his Advertisement for Papp-Hatchett, dated 5 November 1589, but not published until it was included in his Pierce's Supererogation of 1593, says of Papp-Hatchett, who is almost certainly Lyly, 'He might as truly forge any lewd or villanous report of any one in England; and for his labour challenge to be preferred to the Clerkship of the whetstone'; and again, 'His knavish and foolish malice palpably bewrayeth itself in most odious actions; meet to garnish the foresayd famous office of the whetstone'.[326] The actual phrasing of Lyly's letters is, of course, characteristically obscure. It is possible that the 'keper' referred to in the first of them is the Lord Keeper, Sir Thomas Egerton, to whom, if Collier may be trusted, Buck sent, in 1605, a copy of a poem called ΔΑΦΝΙΣ ΠΟΛΥΣΤΕΦΑΝΟΣ, with some lines referring to an obligation of long standing towards his patron.[327] The allusion to 'Tentes and Toyles' may mean that, after giving up hope of the Mastership of the Revels, Lyly had turned his thoughts to the Mastership of the Tents and Toils, the actual holder of which, in 1601, Henry Sackford, had been appointed to the Tents as far back as 1559, and must therefore have been an oldish man; or possibly that, if he could not have the higher place, Lyly would have been content with the reversion of one of the two subordinate appointments, the Clerkship or the Clerk Comptrollership, which the Revels shared with the Tents.[328]

I may complete the story by pointing out that Buck, no less than Lyly, was making interest with Cecil. As a connexion of the Howards, he had of course a powerful influence behind him, and after the death of Nicasius Yetswiert, French Secretary and Clerk of the Signet, Lord Howard of Effingham had written to Cecil on 28 April 1595[329]:

Four years later, on 1 June 1599, Buck himself wrote to the Secretary[330]:

This may reasonably be taken as referring to the Mastership of the Revels, and makes it clear that, whatever Elizabeth had said or done in 1597, she had not given Buck any irrecoverable promise. Very likely she never did. But early in the new reign, on 23 June 1603, Buck received a formal grant by patent of the reversion to Tilney.[331] On the same day was issued a new commission for the office, similar to that of 1581, but in Buck's name instead of Tilney's, from which it is to be inferred that he had become the acting Master.[332] On 23 July 1603 he was knighted.[333] Tilney, however, continued to render the accounts, which, with two exceptions, only exist for the whole of the reign of James in a summary form. The account for 1609-10 is by Tilney's executor, Thomas Tilney; and from 1610-11 onwards Buck is accounting officer, and in full enjoyment of the Mastership.[334] One of the two detailed accounts is Tilney's for 1604-5, the other Buck's for 1611-12. These are made interesting by their schedules of Court performances, the authenticity of which may now be regarded as fairly vindicated.[335] They show that the establishment remained precisely upon its sixteenth-century lines. The close of Elizabeth's reign witnessed the termination by death of Blagrave's fifty-seven years' service in the Revels.[336] William Honing, the former Comptroller, returned to the Office as Clerk in his room, under a patent made retrospective to 25 March 1603.[337] He was still there, as was Edward Kirkham, the Yeoman, in 1617.[338] On the other hand there was a rather rapid succession of Clerk Comptrollers: Edmund Pakenham to 1605-6, Edmund Fowler from 1606-7 to 1608-9, William Page in 1609-10, and Alexander Stafford from 24 April 1611 to 1617 or later.[339] The Groom or Purveyor, like the Porter of St. John's, appears to have been a servitor and not an officer by patent. During 1603-15 he was Stephen Baile, who had succeeded Thomas Clatterbocke. The Porter of St. John's, during the same period, was Richard Prescot.[340]

The change of reign brought with it another change in the financial arrangements for the office. The 'composition' introduced by Burghley in 1597 was abandoned, and henceforth the Master regularly received an imprest of £100 at the beginning of each financial year, together with the balance due on an account rendered by him for all charges since the time of the last imprest. The total amount passing through his hands was not large. During the earlier years of the reign it varied from £150 to £300, and during 1611-15 from £300 to £500.[341] In 1617 the 'ordinary' issues for the Revels were still estimated at £300.[342] Nor was there any special need for 'extraordinary' issues, since the organization of the masks, in which Jacobean Court extravagance centred, was not entrusted to the Revels at all, but to some nominated officer, under the direct supervision of the Lord Chamberlain and the Master of the Horse, who received funds direct from the Treasury for any expenditure which did not fall within the provinces of the Wardrobe or the Office of Works.[343] The Revels Officers continued indeed to give their personal attendance on mask nights, and to charge for their diet accordingly. But their actual responsibility for the entertainments appears to have been limited to the supervision of the fittings, such as the 'music house' in the hall or banqueting-house, and in particular of the elaborate arrangements for lighting. The wire-drawer's bill is the chief outgoing represented in the annual accounts. There is very little else except the personal allowances for the officers and the Master's four servants, their office expenses and boat-hire, the audit and exchequer costs, and occasional repairs to the 'tiring-house' used for rehearsals and other parts of the premises which they occupied. The Master charges diet for himself and his men for every day between All Hallows and Ash Wednesday, together with an extra amount for each actual night of play or mask, and for a varying number of days of tilting and running at the ring and twenty days of 'airing' in the summer. The Comptroller, Clerk, and Yeoman get £13 6s. 8d. each and the Groom £6 13s. 4d. for the whole of their required attendance. Beyond a stray property or garment here and there, there is nothing spent on emptions of stuff or on tailors and the like. I think it is clear that the result of the policy initiated by Burghley had been to reduce the Revels, regarded as a branch of the Household organization, to comparative insignificance. Henceforward its domestic duties sink into the background of the quasi-political functions given to the Master as stage censor by the commissions of 1581 and 1603. But these functions were peculiar to the Master, who carried them out with the aid of his personal servants.[344] The other Revels officers had no claim to share in them, and though Tilney and Buck built up a considerable income out of licensing fees, which probably accounts for the discontinuance in Buck's case of the 'better recompense' of £100 granted by Elizabeth to Tilney, no penny of these fees ever passed through the Revels Accounts.

The slight increase of cost observable in course of time is mainly due to charges for lodgings. The want of accommodation at Hampton Court in the winter of 1603-4 obliged the officers to rent rooms at Kingston for a month at a cost of £4.[345] In 1607 a far more serious problem was presented by the impending loss of St. John's. This had remained in Crown hands throughout Elizabeth's time, although on 31 October 1601 we find John Chamberlain writing to Dudley Carleton, 'The Quene sells land still and the house of St. Johns is at sale'.[346] James, however, after leasing the Gatehouse for life to Sir Roger Wilbraham in 1604, carried out his predecessor's intention by selling the greater part of the Priory to Ralph Freeman on 9 May 1607.[347] Presumably the premises which had been assigned to the Revels were not covered by this sale, for of these the King made a gift in the same year to his cousin Esmé Stuart, eighth Lord Aubigny.[348] The Revels therefore had to be dispossessed. But the Office had to be housed somewhere; and the officers were all entitled to official residences under the terms of their patents. It was doubtless in connexion with this transaction that the following memorandum, which is preserved amongst Sir Julius Caesar's papers and endorsed 'Mr. Tilney's writinge touching his Office', was drawn up.[349]

The difficulty was met by a plan which had served before in the history of the Revels. The officers were allowed to provide their own lodgings, and to charge £15 each for the purpose in the Office account. A similar allowance (£20) was made to the Master for the provision of an office.[350] The actual removal, so far as the office was concerned, took place in the spring of 1608. The accounts show expenses 'in providing a place for th'office of the Revells' between 10 February and the middle of April, and there is independent evidence that on the 10th of March, it was located next door to the Whitefriars theatre.[351] Tilney's personal allowance first appears in the account for 1608-9, and is made retrospective to Michaelmas 1607. Perhaps the Clerk and Yeoman were not disturbed quite so soon. Their allowances first appear in 1610-11, and are retrospective to Hallowmas 1608.[352] It may be assumed that the Comptroller's lodging was treated as a charge on the Tents. On Tilney's death, Buck was allowed £30 to cover both the Office and his own lodging, and the payment antedated to Michaelmas 1608. He protested that he had in fact to pay a rent of £50, and although Salisbury probably turned a deaf ear, his appeal was allowed when his Howard connexions, Suffolk and Northampton, became Treasury Commissioners in 1612, and the allowance was finally fixed at £50.[353] It should be added that Buck also secured in 1612-13, and very likely in other years, a quite distinct allowance of £16, under a warrant from the Lord Chamberlain to the Treasurer of the Chamber, as compensation for the absence of a lodging for him at a crowded Court during the winter revels season.[354] The Office cannot have stayed long in the Whitefriars, for on 24 August 1612 Buck dedicated a treatise on The Third University in England to Sir Edward Coke 'from his Majesties office of the Revels, upon St. Peter's Hill'.[355] This is an account of the seats of learning in London, and was printed by Howes as an appendix to the 1615 edition of Stowe's Annales. Chapter 47 is Of the Art of Revels, and is worth quoting:

It is matter for deep regret that Buck's 'particular commentary' is lost. He made other contributions to letters, writing commendatory verses to Thomas Watson's ΕΚΑΤΟΜΠΑΘΙΑ (c. 1582) and to Camden's Britannia (1607), and a poem called ΔΑΦΝΙΣ ΠΟΛΥΣΤΕΦΑΝΟΣ (1605).[357] His History of the Life and Reigne of Richard III was published posthumously in 1607.[358]

Reversions of the Mastership were granted during Buck's lifetime to Edward Glasscock in 1603, to John, afterwards Sir John, Astley or Ashley on 3 April 1612, to Benjamin Jonson on 5 October 1621, and to William Painter on 29 July 1622.[359] His actual successor was Sir John Astley. On 30 March 1622 John Chamberlain wrote to Dudley Carleton, 'Old Sir George Buck, master of the revels, has gone mad'.[360] On 29 March 1622 a warrant was issued by the Lord Chamberlain to swear Astley in as Master, followed on 16 May by a letter requiring Buck to deliver up the books and other property of the Office.[361] His death took place on 20 September 1623.[362] Astley almost immediately sold his office to Sir Henry Herbert, whose tenure of it belongs to the history of the Caroline stage.

IV
PAGEANTRY

THE tradition of pageantry had its roots deep in the Middle Ages. But it made its appeal also to the Renaissance, of which nothing was more characteristic than the passion for colour and all the splendid external vesture of things; while the ranging curiosity of the Renaissance was able to stimulate into fresh life the fading imaginative energies of the past, weaving its new fancies from classical mythology, from epic and pastoral, from the explorations of history and folk-lore, no less delightfully than incongruously, into the old mediaeval warp of scripture and hagiology and allegory. So that the Tudor kings and queens came and went about their public affairs in a constant atmosphere of make-believe, with a sibyl lurking in every court-yard and gateway, and a satyr in the boscage of every park, to turn the ceremonies of welcome and farewell, without which sovereigns must not move, by the arts of song and dance and mimetic dialogue, to favour and to prettiness.

The fullest scope for such entertainments was afforded by the custom of the progress, which led the Court, summer by summer, to remove from London and the great palaces on the Thames and renew the migratory life of earlier dynasties, wandering for a month or more over the fair face of the land, and housing itself in the outlying castles and royal manors, or claiming the ready hospitality of the territorial gentry and the provincial cities. This was a holiday, in which the sovereign sought change of air and the recreation of hunting and such other pastimes as the country yields.[363] But it cannot be doubted that it had also a political object, in the strengthening, by the give and take of gracious courtesies, of the bonds of personal affection and loyalty upon which much of the wisdom of Elizabeth's domestic statecraft so securely rested. And accordingly the procedure retained much of the solemnity of a state function. The Queen went on horseback or in a coach or litter, attended by her bodyguards and the great officers of state, with the Master of the Horse leading her bridle and a great noble carrying the sword before her.[364] The sheriff met her at the boundary of each county, and as she entered a castle or a city the constables offered up their keys and the corporations their maces, and received them again at her hands. And with the Queen came the Household in a body, Hall and Chamber and Stable, followed by a long train of carts bearing the royal 'stuff' which was destined to supply the needs of the household offices, and to furnish the often empty walls of temporary lodgings, where were reproduced, if only on a miniature scale, the conventional ordering of presence chamber, privy chamber, and the like, which were the essentials of a royal dwelling.[365] Careful arrangements had, of course, to be made in advance; on the one hand for the maintenance of communications with London and the transaction or postponement of business during the absence of Queen and Council, and on the other for the housing and provisioning of so great a multitude in the country districts.[366] The latter had of old been the care of a special group of Hall officers known as the Harbingers.[367] These still exercised functions of detail. But the general control, like so much else, had passed into the hands of the Lord Chamberlain. Early in the summer, as soon as the royal decision as to the direction and duration of the progress could be obtained, a document was drawn up, known as the 'gestes' or 'jestes', by which must be understood, I think, not a chronicle of res gestae, but a table of the 'gysts' or gîtes appointed for each night's lodging, which is what in fact it contained.[368] Copies of the 'gestes' were signed by the Lord Chamberlain and given with warrants from himself to Gentlemen Ushers of the Chamber, who took them as instructions to the mayors of towns, and doubtless also to the lord-lieutenants of counties, through which the progress would pass. The Ushers were directed to view and report upon the lodgings available.[369] The royal Waymaker studied the roads, and the Guard the security of the neighbourhood.[370] The local officials were required to see that a sufficient provision of food, drink, and fuel was secured, and to furnish that important safeguard, a certificate that their districts were free from the dangerous infection of the plague.[371] The 'gestes' were also published in the household, and individual courtiers hastened to send them to their friends, and to give advice to those scheduled as royal hosts about the kind of entertainment which the sovereign would expect. There is plenty of evidence in the private correspondence of the period that the honour of a royal visit was not anticipated without some anxieties. That of Sir William More at Loseley contains several references to the subject. There is a letter from Sir Anthony Wingfield, who tells More that he has reported to the Lord Chamberlain 'what fewe smal romes and howe unmete your howes was for the Quenes majesty'. She had decided to go to a manor-house of her own, but had again changed her mind. Wingfield had spoken to Lord Admiral Clinton, 'for that ytt shalbe a grete trouboul and a henderanes to you', and advises More to try his influence with Leicester. This must have been written before the present fine house at Loseley, built during 1562-8, was sufficiently completed to house the Queen. More, however, had a visit in 1567, and another in 1576, after which his neighbour, Henry Goringe of Burton, who expected one in 1577, wrote to ask him 'what order was taken by her Maiesties offycers at that tyme that her grace was with youe, and whether your howse were furnyshed with her highnes stufe, wyne, beer, and other provycion, or that you purveyd for the same or any parte thereof'. He had a third in 1583, of which he was warned by Sir Christopher Hatton in a letter of 4 August, directing him to see everything well ordered, and the house 'sweete and cleane'. There had been a 'brute' of infection, but this was now reported as 'a misinformation'. On 24 August, Hatton wrote again. More should 'avoyd' his family, and make everything ready 'as to your owne discretion shall seeme most needefull for her maiesties good contentation'. The sheriff was not to attend her on this occasion, but More and some other gentlemen had better meet her in Guildford. Finally, he had one in 1591, and one Mr. Constable came with a letter from Lord Hunsdon, asking for More's help in selecting suitable lodgings on the way to Petworth or Cowdray.[372] To these letters can be added others from various sources. In 1572 Sir Nicholas Bacon wrote to Burghley from Gorhambury that he understood 'by comen speche' that the Queen was coming, and being uncertain of the date and desirous to 'take that cours that myght best pleas her maiestie', begged for advice 'what you thinke to be the best waye for me to deale in this matter: ffor, in very deede, no man is more rawe in suche a matter then my selfe'.[373] Only a few days later Burghley also had a letter from the Earl of Bedford, then on his way to Woburn Abbey to make preparations. He wishes his rooms and lodgings were better, and says, 'I trust your Lordship will have in remembraunce to provide and helpe that her Maiesties tarieng be not above two nights and a daye; for, for so long tyme do I prepare'.[374] In the following year, 1573, it was the turn of Archbishop Parker to be both flattered and perturbed by the intimation of a visit to Canterbury. He can lodge the Queen, he tells Burghley, and also, at any rate 'for a progresse-tyme', the Treasurer himself, the Chamberlain, Leicester, and Hatton, 'thinking that your Lordships will furnisshe the places with your owne stuffe'. The house, indeed, was 'of an evill ayer, hanging upon the churche and having no prospect to loke on the people: but yet, I trust, the convenience of the building would serve'. Possibly the Queen would prefer 'her owne pallace at St. Austens', and the lords could go to the dean and prebendaries, several of whom have offered to take Burghley. In any case he would wish to dine the Queen, and the nobles and her train in 'my bigger hall'. Meanwhile he will write to the Lord Chamberlain on some things that concern his office.[375] In 1577 it was the Lord Chamberlain himself, the Earl of Sussex, who received a touching appeal from Lord Buckhurst for 'some certenty of the progres, yf it may possibly be'. Will the Queen come to Lewes, and if so, for how long? All the provision in Kent, Surrey, and Sussex is already taken up by the Earl of Arundel, Viscount Montagu and others, and he will have to send over to Flanders. Unless the Queen will 'presently determin', he does not see how he can perform that 'which is du and convenient.' And may it please God 'that the hous do not mislike her; that is my cheif care'. Apparently Buckhurst, like More a decade earlier, was building, for he adds, 'But yf her Highness had taried but on yere longer, we had ben to to happy; but Gods will and hers be doon'.[376] Sussex, though called upon to advise others, had his own subjects for reflection. He had offered the Queen hospitality at New Hall, apparently at short notice on some change of programme, and she replied that 'it were no good reason and less good manners' to trouble him. In forwarding her message Leicester had added, perhaps maliciously, for there was no love lost between him and Sussex, 'Nevertheless, my lord, for mine own opinion, I believe she wil hunt, and visit your house, coming so neer. Herein you may use the matter accordingly, since she would have you not to look for her.' Attempts were being made to dissuade her from having a progress at all, 'But it much misliketh her not to go some wher to have change of air', and the progress was 'most like to go forward, since she fancieth it so greatly herself'.[377] However, there was a good deal of plague about, and in the end the progress was abandoned, doubtless to the relief of both Sussex and Buckhurst. Perhaps the most amusing letter of all, in its delicate attempt to balance deprecation with loyalty, is one written by Sir William Cornwallis to Walsingham in 1583, on behalf of the Earl of Northumberland at Petworth. The earl wished to learn 'as much certeinty as he can' of the expected visit, and after mentioning 'the shortness of the tyme' for provision and the illness of Lady Northumberland, Cornwallis continues, 'Notwithstanding, Sir, this is very trew, yet it may not be advertysed, lest it might be thought to give impediment to her Majesties coming, wherof I perceyve my lord very glade and desirous'. Finally he ventures a discreet hint on his own account, fearing that 'her Majestie will never thank him that hath perswaded this progreyse, nor those lords that shall receive her, how great entertaynment soever they give her, considering the wayes by which she must come to them, up the hill and down the hill, so as she shall not be able to use ether coche or litter with ease, and those ways also so full of louse stones, as it is carefull and painfull riding for anybody, nether can ther be in this cuntrey any wayes devysed to avoyd those ould wayes. In truth, Sir, thus I find it, and I wyshe some others knew it, so I wear not the author; who though I write it for care of the Queen, yet might it be interpreted otherwise.'[378] Northumberland had at this time good reason to be diplomatic. Probably he was already under Walsingham's suspicion, and before the end of the year he was in the Tower, for his participation in the Throgmorton plot. Against all this uneasiness may be set the genuine spirit of welcome and personal affection for the Queen which appears to have prevailed in the much visited household of Lord Norris of Rycote. Leicester reports to Hatton in 1582 his own 'piece of cold entertainment' at the hands of Lady Norris, because he and Hatton 'were the chief hinderers of her Majesty's coming hither, which they took more unkindly than there was cause indeed'. Inverting Cornwallis's plea, he had alleged 'the foul and ragged way' as an excuse, and adds as his comment, 'A hearty noble couple are they as ever I saw towards her Highness'.[379]

Much additional inconvenience was evidently caused to voluntary and involuntary hosts alike by the characteristic indecision which led Elizabeth, in small things as well as great, to be constantly chopping and changing her plans. The 'gestes' might be set down, but they were never final, to the last minute. The good city of Leicester was warned four times to make preparation, in 1562, 1575, 1576, and 1585, and never had the felicity of beholding its sovereign at all.[380] The point comes out clearly enough in the letters already quoted; perhaps even more clearly in a final group written in August 1597 by one of Burghley's secretaries, Henry Maynard, from London to another, Michael Hicks, who was in fluttered anticipation of a visit at Ruckholt in Essex. Maynard wrote three times in the course of five days. On the 10th he warned Hicks to expect the Queen in the following week, 'if the iestes hold, which after manie alterations is so sett downe this daie'. He will let him know if there is any further change, 'for wee are greatlie aferd of Theobalds'. On the 12th there had been no change as yet and Hicks had better come to court for advice. There was still danger of Theobalds, 'but as yett it is not sett downe'. With a sigh, Maynard adds, 'This progresse much trowbleth mee, for that we knowe not what corse the Queen will take'. On the 15th he can at last announce that no change was now expected. He had told the Lord Chamberlain that Hicks was troubled at the insufficient accommodation he could provide for the royal train. 'His awnsweare was that you weare unwise to be at anie such charge: but onelie to leave the howse to the Quene: and wished that theare might be presented to hir Majestie from your wief sum fine wastcoate, or fine ruffe, or like thinge, which he said would be acceptablie taken as if it weare of greate price.' Maynard was still anticipating a descent on Theobalds, although nothing had been said about it.[381] As a matter of fact, his anticipation was justified, and Theobalds was visited in the course of September. In 1599 there was a scare lest the short progress planned should be extended, 'by reason of an intercepted letter, wherein the giving over of long voyages was noted to be sign of age'.[382]

Contact with the great is not ordinarily, for the plain man, a bed of roses; and there is no reason to suppose that it was otherwise in the spacious times of Elizabeth. You probably got knighted, if you were not a knight already, which cost you some fees, and you received some sugared royal compliments on the excellence of your entertainment and the appropriateness of your 'devices'. But you had wrestled for a month with poulterers and with poets. You had 'avoided' your house, and made yourself uncomfortable in a neighbouring lodge. You had seen your trim gardens and terraces encamped upon by a locust-swarm of all the tag-rag and bobtail that follows a court. And with your knowledge of that queer streak in the Tudor blood, you had been on tenterhooks all the time lest at some real or fancied dislike the royal countenance might become clouded, and the compliments give way to a bitter jest or to open railing. 'I have had hitherto a troublesome progress,' writes Cecil to Parker in 1561, 'to stay the Queen's majesty from daily offence conceived against the clergy, by reason of the undiscreet behaviour of the readers and ministers in these countries of Suffolk and Essex.'[383] Parker himself was something of a favourite with Elizabeth, yet John Harington can record an incredible insult to his wife on the doorstep of Lambeth.[384] And Richard Topcliffe, hunter of recusants, describes with indecent glee how the hospitality of Edward Rookwood in 1578 was rewarded with a committal to prison and a public obloquy on his religion.[385] The arrogance of the royal train had always to be reckoned with. As far back as 1526 Henry VIII had issued a formal household order against the spoliation of houses in progress.[386] In 1574 Leicester instigated a surprise visit to Berkeley Castle, which was not in the 'gestes', and so ruined the head of deer by killing twenty-seven in one day that Lord Berkeley in a passion disparked the estate. This appears to have been a deliberate scheme by Leicester to bring Berkeley into disfavour and secure the castle himself.[387] The Stuart households were probably just as bad. After Anne's visit in 1603, the Leicester corporation had to pursue the court 'aboute lynnyns and pewter that was myssinge'.[388]

It is not quite clear how far these annoyances were aggravated by the financial burden of the royal entertainment. There is some evidence that, so far as the essentials of food and drink and fuel were concerned, the household was prepared to pay its way, and that, although the hosts had to make provision of these necessaries, they were entitled to recoupment for the cost by the Cofferer.[389] Certainly the progress, once an economy for the Crown, had become an expense.[390] Burghley's papers contain an estimate, based on the accounts of 1573, showing an 'increase of chardgies in the time of progresse' to the extent of £1,034, 'which should not be if her Majestie remeynid at her Standing Howses within XX myles of London'.[391] This is not wholly conclusive, because in any case part of the time was usually spent, not in private houses, but at royal manors or even in inns.[392] But its indication is confirmed, so far as civic visits are concerned, by entries in corporation accounts, which appear to be limited to expenditure upon the hire or purchase of plenishing, the repair of streets and pavements and painting of gates and public buildings, the provision of a fairly costly gift in the form of a gold cup with money in it, and the payment of fees to the queen's waymaker for inspecting the roads, and to various officers of the chamber, hall, and stable. The visit of 1575 cost the city of Worcester £173, raised partly out of corporation funds, partly by a special levy. The city of Leicester met that of 1612 with a levy of £74 1s. 9d., while that of 1614 cost them £102 12s. 6½d.[393] Anything in the way of a mimetic entertainment would probably fall by civic custom on the guilds.[394] And the establishment of the Revels, which followed the progress, was ready to help at need, with a mask or banqueting house.[395] There are definite statements as to the recoupment of the cost of light, rushes, and fuel at Oxford in 1566, and of beer when Prince Charles passed through Leicester in 1604.[396] Of course, the Crown used its feudal right of purveyance; that is to say, of purchase within the verge at rates fixed by itself; and for this purchase a local jury was empanelled to assist the Clerk of the Market in drawing up a tariff and supervising weights and measures.[397]

But the abuses of purveyance, which included the impressment of vehicles by the royal cart-takers, cannot have borne very heavily upon districts rarely visited, although the home counties, which were more often traversed and contained standing houses, had no doubt their grievances.[398]

The Hicks correspondence suggests that, even in 1597, the household was still prepared to provision itself, at any rate in the smaller private houses. But there is a good deal of evidence to show that, where persons of wealth were concerned, a different practice grew up. A visit to Gorhambury in 1577 cost Sir Nicolas Bacon £577.[399] Parker's son recorded that his father's entertainment of the Queen at Canterbury and other houses, with his gifts to her and the lords and ladies, cost him above £2,000, and that in addition he spent £170 at Canterbury in rewards to the officers of the household.[400] Burghley's domestic biographer tells us that the twelve visits to Theobalds cost him 'two or three thousand pounds every tyme', which sufficiently explains why his adherents were not particularly anxious for a visit in 1597.[401] Parker had to find many nights' lodging, as the Queen passed up and down stream, and at Canterbury Elizabeth is known to have occupied a house of her own. But Burghley's heavy expenditure must surely have covered more than the mere gifts and the spectacular side of his entertainments. A visit to the Marquis of Winchester in 1601 was 'with more charge than the constitution of Basing may well bear'.[402] For that to Harefield in 1602 the bills are preserved, and amount to £2,013 18s. 4d., of which £1,255 12s. 0d. was apparently for provisions, £199 9s. 11d. for temporary buildings, and the balance presumably for gifts, spectacles, and the like. There is no indication of any repayments by the royal Cofferer, although Sir Thomas Egerton's friends came nobly to his assistance, and sent in innumerable presents, including no less than eighty-six stags and bucks, eleven oxen, sixty-five sheep, and forty-one sugar-loaves, as well as birds, fish, oysters, Selsea cockles, cheese-cakes, sweetmeats, wine, wheat, and salt.[403] Finally we have the definite statement of the French ambassador La Mothe Fénelon in 1575, that at Kenilworth Leicester 'a deffrayé toute la court a cent soixante platz d'assiette, l'espace de douze jours'.[404] And we have that of the Venetian ambassador Foscarini in 1612, that 'his Majesty's charges are borne by the owners of the houses where he lodges'. Foscarini had accompanied the progress to Belvoir, and was much struck with the large numbers, more than a thousand, who were housed there, and with the costly style in which things were done, 'far exceeding that of the court when in London or a neighbouring palace'. He found personally, as others have found since his day, that visiting was much more expensive than staying at home, on account of the largesse expected.[405] I am inclined to think that we have come here upon a point of honour, and that, while it was not in theory incumbent upon a poor man to feed as well as lodge his mistress, it gradually became customary for rich men to give a special proof of their devotion by omitting to claim the recoupment to which they were strictly entitled. And if this was so, of course in the long run the poor men had to follow suit. Sir William Clarke in 1602 was counted a churl, for he 'neither gives meat nor money to any of the progressors. The house Her Majesty has at commandment, and his grass the guard's horses eat, and this is all.'[406] The right to occupy the house of a subject was indeed a matter of feudal tradition. All manors were ultimately held of the Crown. We find Elizabeth dating from 'our manor of Cheneys' in 1570, although Chenies had long been in the hands of the Russells; and it was an obiter dictum of Lord Northampton in a Star Chamber case of 1606 that 'the kinge by his prerogative may take vp any howse in his progres'.[407]

Those who accompanied the progress had their own woes to bear. There was a good deal of 'roughing it'. The rate of advance, at ten or twelve miles a day, broken by a dinner at some wayside mansion or in a temporarily constructed 'dining house', was inevitably slow. The weather and the roads were often unkind; nor was the advance guard of two hundred and twenty carts carrying baggage likely to have mended the condition of the latter.[408] The numbers were great, and if accommodation was scant, some had to make shift with tents and booths. The commissariat was not always perfect. Even the Queen might come off badly. On one occasion Leicester reported to Burghley that the beer had been unsatisfactory. 'Hit did put her very farr out of temper, and almost all the company beside.' Happily, a better brew had been discovered. 'God be thanked she is now perfectly well and merry.'[409] Burghley himself was apparently timed to join the progress at Dudley, and he received a discreet hint from Walsingham that a change of programme would bring the Queen there earlier than had been expected, 'whereuppon your Lordship may take some just cause to excuse you not coming thither'.[410] No doubt Burghley's duties as Lord Treasurer often kept him at Westminster. But the fact is that the sixteenth-century growth of luxury was making a migratory court something of an anachronism.[411] The progress was by no means always on the same scale of elaboration. In some years it was limited to a month or so in the counties nearest to London; in others it extended over three or four months, and the Queen went fairly far afield. During the earlier years the most important progresses were those of 1564 and 1566, which included visits to Cambridge and to Oxford respectively. In 1562, 1563, and 1565 there were no progresses at all, owing to plague or other reasons. The period of the great progresses was the second decade of the reign; and it culminated in the 'Princely Pleasures' of Kenilworth of 1575. During 1572, 1574, and 1575 Elizabeth covered a large part of the Midlands; during 1573 Kent and Sussex; during 1578 East Anglia. She reached Southampton in 1560 and 1569, Dover in 1573, Bristol in 1574, Stafford and Chartley in 1575. Farther north or west I do not find her; visits were planned to the chief towns of the Presidencies of Wales and of the North, to Shrewsbury in 1575 and to York in 1584, but these never came off. Progresses were practically suspended during the troublous decade before the Armada, when the Queen's life was hardly ever safe from plots, and she generally spent the autumn quietly at Oatlands or Nonsuch. In 1591 and 1592 the old custom was revived; Southampton was revisited in the former year, Oxford and the Cotswolds in the latter. There was another revival towards the end of the reign, and there were short progresses in 1597, 1600, 1601, and 1602. Two unsuccessful plans were made to get as far as Wiltshire. Elizabeth's strength was failing, but the restlessness of her latter years was upon her, and she would not have it said that she was too old to travel. She had to reckon, however, with courtiers who had learnt to love their ease. 'The Lords are sorry for it,' wrote Rowland White to Sir Robert Sidney, when she determined to set out from Nonsuch in 1600, 'butt her majestie bids the old stay behind, and the young and able to goe with her. She had just cause to be offended, that at her remove to this place she was soe poorely attended; for I never saw so small a train.'[412] At all times, and particularly during the later years, the formal progresses were supplemented by short visits of a few days, or even a few hours, to favoured courtiers, sometimes by way of a 'by-progress' in spring or autumn, sometimes in the course of a remove from one standing house to another, sometimes merely to relieve a continuous residence at the same palace.[413] Several of the twelve visits to Theobalds, for which Elizabeth had evidently a liking, and which had been rebuilt to accommodate her, were by progresses. The household did not always accompany her on these occasions. Within London itself, she also occasionally paid a visit. In the last winter of her life, several entertainments were carefully arranged for her, in the hope of keeping her at Whitehall.[414] In 1601 and 1602 she went a-Maying at Highgate and Lewisham. Another day's visit, probably of 1600, is elaborately described by Sir Robert Sidney to Sir John Harington.[415]