In dancing it appears to have been the customary fee of a lady’s partner. A further illustration of the custom may be seen. Foreigners of the male sex, and especially Frenchmen, are in the more frequent habit of kissing each other, and probably not the ladies. Misson, a Frenchman who travelled in England about 1697, says: “The people of England, when they meet, never salute one another, otherwise than by giving one another their hands, and shaking them heartily; they no more dream of pulling off their hats, than the women do of pulling off their headcloths.”

The sin of great cities we may pass over; that of early marriage is still, as it was in Stubbes’ time, a very terrible evil; the sin of drunkenness is with us still, and is present in every country. The side of charity that consists in giving doles to the poor was then neglected, and is now destroyed. We still suffer from money-lenders, though they can no longer conduct us to a life-long prison.

“Beleeve mee,” says Stubbes, “it greeveth mee to heare (walking in the streats) the pitiful cryes, and miserable complaints of poore prisoners in durance for debt, and like so to continue all their life, destitute of libertie, meat, drink (though of the meanest sorte), and clothing to their backs, lying in filthie strawe, and lothsome dung, wursse than anie dogge, voide of all charitable consolation and brotherly comfort in this World, wishing and thyrsting after death to set them at libertie, and loose them from their shackles, giues, and yron bands.” (Stubbes.)

As for the boys of this century, I have always thought their favourite haunt was the river, or the river-side. On the river they rowed about among the fishermen, and the swans above Bridge; the Queen’s Barge swept past them with its trumpets and its hangings gorgeous to behold; the Lord Mayor and the Companies were borne along before them in state and splendour such as we have forgotten—surely nothing could have been more splendid than these barges with their long lines of flashing oars and their bows gilt and carved, and the carved work of the covered seat of state, and the servants in their green and gold. Below Bridge, in the Port, they rowed in and out among the ships as boys will about Portsmouth Harbour now; the name of each ship with her port was written on her lofty stern. The figure-head of each was bright as paint and gold would make it. If they were allowed to go on board there were sailors full of yarns, with strange things to show as well as to tell. If they went as far down as Deptford, there was Drake’s ship, the ship which had gone all round the world—all round the world! If they stayed ashore, there were taverns in Wapping and St. Katherine’s, where they could snatch the fearful joy of seeing the sailors drink and fight, the foreign sailors and the English sailors, and the sailors from the North Country, and those of London and the Cinque Ports. The river and the river-side were famous schools to fill the minds of London boys with an ardour for adventure; a yearning for the way of war; a burning desire to cross the seas and visit far countries; and a thirst for geography; and all the London boys of every class regularly attended the classes of this Academy.

The theatre, of course, offers a fine field for the Elizabethan satirist, Stubbes. He cannot find words strong enough to condemn the playgoer. Then there is that other source and fount of laughter, the Lord of Misrule.

“First, all the wilde-heds of the Parish, conuenting togither, chuse them a Graund Captain (of all mischeefe) whome they innoble with the title of ‘my Lord of Mis-rule,’ and him they crowne with great solemnitie, and adopt for their King. This king anointed chuseth forth twentie, fortie, threescore or a hundred lustie Guttes, like to himself, to waighte vppon his lordly Maiestie, and to guarde his noble person. Then, euerie one of these his men, he inuesteth with his liuerues of green, yellow, or some other light wanton colour; And as though that were not baudie (gaudie) enough, I should say, they bedecke them selues with scarfs, ribons, and laces hanged all over with golde rings, precious stones, and other jewels: this doon, they tye about either leg xx. or xl. bels, with rich handkerchiefs in their hands, and sometimes laid a crosse ouer their shoulders and necks, borrowed for the most parte of their pretie Mopsies and loouing Besses, for bussing them in the dark. Thus al things set in order, then haue they their Hobby-horses, dragons and other antiques, togither with their baudie Pipers and thundering Drummers to strike vp the deuils daunce withall. Then marche these heathen company towards the church and Churchyard, their pipers pipeing, their drummers thundring, their stumps dauncing, their bels iyngling, their handkerchiefs swinging about their heds like madmen, their hobbie horses and other monsters skirmishing amongst the route: and in this sorte they go to the Church (I say) and into the Church (though the Minister be at prair or preaching), dancing and swinging their handkerchiefs ouer their heds in the Church, like deuils incarnate, with such a confuse noise, that no man can hear his own voice. Then, the foolish people they looke, they stare, they laugh, they fleer, and mount vpon fourmes and pewes to see these goodly pageants solemnized in this sort. Then, after this, about the Church they goe againe and againe, and so foorth into the churchyard, where they haue commonly their Sommer-haules, their bowers, arbors, and banqueting houses set vp, wherin they feast, banquet and daunce al that day and (peradventure) all the night too. And thus these terrestriall furies spend the Sabaoth day.” (Stubbes, Anatomie of Abuses, edit, by Furnivall.)

The custom of church ales is described by Stubbes with his customary vigour:—

“In certaine Townes where drunken Bachus beares all the sway, against a Christmas, an Easter, Whitsonday, or some other time, the Church-wardens (for so they call them) of euery parish, with the consent of the whole Parish, prouide half a score of twenty quarters of mault, wherof some they buy of the Church-stock, and some is giuen them of the Parishioners them selves, euery one conferring somewhat, according to his abilitie; which mault, beeing made into very strong ale or beere, it is set to sale, either in the Church, or some other place assigned to that purpose.

Then, when the Nippitatum, this Huf-cap (as they call it) and this nectar of lyfe, is set abroche, wel is he that can get the soonest to it, and spend the most at it; for he that fitteth the closest to it, and spends the moste at it, he is counted the godliest man of all the rest; but who either cannot, for pinching pouertie, or otherwise, wil not stick to it, he is counted one destitute bothe of vertue and godlynes. In so much as you shall haue many poor men make hard shift for money to spend ther at, for it beeing put into this Corban, they are perswaded it is meritorious, and a good seruice to God. In this kinde of practise they continue six weeks, a quarter of a year, yea, half a year togither, swilling and gulling, night and day, till they be as drunke as Apes, and as blockish as beasts.” (Stubbes, Ibid.)

They pretend, he says, to repair their churches with money so got:—

“But who seeth not that they bestow this money vpon nothing lesse than in building and repayring of Churches and Oratories? For in most places lye they not like swyn coates? their windowes rent, their dores broken, their walles fall downe, the roofe all bare, and what not out of order? Who seeth not the booke of God, rent, ragged, and all betorn, couered in dust, so as this Epitaphe may be writ with ones finger vppon it, ecce nunc in puluere dormio? (Alas;) behold I sleep in dust and oblyuion, not once scarse looked vppon, much less red vpon, and the least of all preached vppon.” (Stubbes, Ibid.)

Of wakes and feasts and “the horrible vice of pestiferous dancing” we need say little. Nor of music, “how it allureth to vanitie”; nor of cards, dice, tennis, and bowls, all of which we still practise; nor of the bear-baiting which we have now discontinued. Of the reading of bad books we may still complain after the manner of Stubbes. In a word, his Book of Lamentations would serve with slight alterations for to-day as well as his own age.

On the exchange of English goods for foreign trifles, I find a note in Furnivall’s edition of Stubbes’ Anatomy:—

The suppressing of the Religious Houses produced, for a time, a great deal of hardship and difficulty. For not only were the friars turned out into the streets, but all the people living upon the monasteries were deprived of their daily bread; many of these unfortunates took to the road and became tramps, vagabonds, masterless men and thieves; many took refuge in those parts of London which were outside the jurisdiction of the City. London, indeed, was the place which the masterless man regarded as a veritable Paradise. They flocked up to London from all quarters; they were constantly being turned out and as constantly coming back again. When Queen Elizabeth once drove out to the country cottage of Islington, she was mobbed by a gang of vagabonds who accosted her with clamours; they harboured in the brick kilns there. In some parts close to London, as Hyde Park Corner and Lincoln’s Inn Fields, no one would venture after dark. Men took arms into their bedrooms at night, ready for use. Generally it seems that they hung a drawn sword at the bedside. The ’prentices, however, were the best protectors to a house. They slept in the shop, if there were a shop; or if there were no shop they slept somewhere on the ground floor, as is evident from the edifying revelations of “Meriton Latron,” in which it is shown how easily the ’prentices could get out at night for these riotous and profligate meetings and drinkings. I suppose it matters nothing that this writer belongs to the next century. In such small matters the world is conservative. According to this authority, it was common for ’prentices to rob their masters, exchanging with each other or holding a kind of auction in their taverns at night. The time when the City was most free from crimes was when the men had been called out to follow the flag and fight. The worst time was after the war, when they all came back again to their old haunts, thirsting for their old amusements and more disinclined for work than ever.