ROBERT DUDLEY, EARL OF LEICESTER (1532(?)-1588)
From the painting by Zuccaro in the National Portrait Gallery, London.

The Prince so served with tender meats, sweet fruits, and dainty delicates confectioned with curious cookery, as it seemed wonder a world to observe the provision; and at every course the trumpetters blew the couragious blast of deadly war, with noise of drum and fyfe, with the sweet harmony of violins, sackbutts, recorders, and cornetts, with other instruments of music, as it seemed Apollo’s harp had turned their stroke. Thus the Hall was served after the most ancient order of the Island; in commendation whereof I say, I have also seen the service of great Princes, in solemn seasons and times of triumph, yet the order hereof was not inferior to any. But to proceed, this Hereaught Palaphilos, even before the second course came in, standing at the high table said in this manner: ‘The mighty Palaphilos, Prince of Sophie, High Constable Marshall of the Knights Templars, Patron of the Honourable Order of Pegasus’; and therewith cryeth ‘A Largess.’ The Prince, praysing the Hereaught, bountifully rewarded him with a chain to the value of an hundred talents.

I assure you, I languish for want of cunning, ripely to utter that I saw so orderly handled appertaining to service; wherefore I cease, and return to my purpose.

The supper ended, and tables taken up, the High Constable rose, and a while stood under the place of honour, where his achievement was beautifully embroidered and devised of sundry matters, with the Ambassadors of foreign nations, as he thought good, till Palaphilos, King of Armes, came in, his Hereaught Marshal, and Pursivant before him; and after followed his messenger and Caligate Knight; who putting off his coronal, made his humble obeysance to the Prince, by whom he was commanded to draw neer, and understand his pleasure; saying to him, in few words, to this effect: ‘Palaphilos, seeing it hath pleased the high Pallas to think me to demerit the office of this place; and thereto this night past vouchsafed to descend from heavens to increase my further honour, by creating me Knight of her Order of Pegasus; as also commanded me to join in the same Society such valiant Gentlemen throughout her province whose living honour hath best deserved the same, the choice whereof most aptly belongeth to your skill, being the watchman of their doings and register of their deserts; I will ye choose as well throughout our whole armyes, as elsewhere, of such special gentlemen, as the gods hath appointed, the number of twenty-four, and the names of them present us: commanding also those chosen persons to appear in our presence in knightly habit, that with conveniency we may proceed in our purpose. This done Palaphilos obeying his Prince’s commandement, with twenty-four knights, all apparelled in long white vestures, with each man a scarf of Pallas colours, and them presented, with their names, to the Prince; who allowed well his choice, and commanded him to do his office. Who, after his duty to the Prince, bowed towards these worthy personages, standing every man to his antienty, as he had born armes in the field, and began to shew his Prince’s pleasure; with the honour of the Order.”

And here is a note from Stow on Christmas Customs:—

“Against the feast of Christmas, every man’s house, as also their parish churches, were decked with holm, ivie, bayes, and whatsoever the season of the yeere aforded to be greene; the conduits and standards in the streets were likewise garnished. Amongst the which, I read, that in the yeere 1444, by tempest of thunder and lightning, on the first of February at night, Paul’s steeple was fired, but with great labour quenched, and toward the morning of Candlemas day, at the Leaden Hall in Cornhill, a standard of tree, beeing set up in the midst of the pavement fast in the ground, nayled full of holme and ivy, for disport of Christmas to the people, was torne up and cast downe by the malignant spirit (as was thought), and the stones of the pavement all about were cast in the streetes, and into divers houses, so that the people were wore agast at the great tempests.”

Let us pass on to the great Festival of May Day.

“Forth goeth all the court both most and lest,
To Fetch the floures fresh, and braunch and blome—
And namely hauthorn brought both page and grome
And than rejoysen in their great delite;
Eke ech at other throw the floures bright,
The primerose, the violete, and the gold.
With freshe garlants party blew and white.”

Philip Stubbes says:—“Against Maie, Whitsondaie, or some other tyme of the yeare, every parishe, towne, and village assemble themselves together, bothe men, women, and children; and either goyng all together, or deviding themselves into companies, they goe some to the woodes and groves, some to the hilles and mountaines, some to one place, some to another, where they spend all the night in pleasant pastymes, and in the mornyng they returne bringing with them, birch, bouwes, and braunches of trees to deck their assemblies withal. But their chiefest jewel they bring from thence is their Maie poole, which they bring home with greate veneration, as thus:—They have twentie or fortie yoke of oxen, every oxe havyng a swete nosegaie of flowers tyed on the tippe of his hornes, and these oxen drawe home the Maie poole (this stinckyng idoll rather), which is covered all over with flowers and hearbes, bounde rounde aboute with stringes from the top to the bottome, and sometyme painted with variable colours, with two or three hundred men, women, and children followyng it with greate devotion. And thus being reared up, with handkerchiefes and flagges streamyng on the toppe, they strawe the grounde aboute, binde greene boughs about it, sett up sommer halles, bowers, and arbours hard by it; and then fall they to banquet and feast, to leape and daunce aboute it, as the heathen people did at the dedication of their idolles.... I have heard it credibly reported,” he sarcastically adds, “by men of great gravity, credite, and reputation, that of fourtie, three score, or a hundred maides goyng to the wood over night, there have scarcely the third parte of them returned home againe as they went.” (The Anatomie of Abuses, 1836 edition, p. 171.)

Herrick says:—

“Get up ... and see
The dew bespangling herbe and tree;
Each flower has wept, and bow’d toward the east,
Above an hour since; ... it is sin,
Nay profanation, to keep in;
When as a thousand virgins on this day,
Spring sooner than the larks to fetch in May!
Come, my Corinna, come; and comming marke
How each field turns a street, each street a parke
Made green and trimmed with trees; see how
Devotion gives each house a bough,
Or branch; each porch, each doore ere this,
An arke or tabernacle is,
Made up of white-thorn neatly interwove,
As if here were those cooler shades of love.
Can such delights be in the street,
And open fields, and we not see’t?
Come, we’ll abroad; and let’s obey
The Proclamation made for May,
And sin no more, as we have done, by staying.
There’s not a budding boy, or girle, this day
But is got up, and gone to bring in May;
A deale of youth, ere this, is come
Back, and with white-thorn laden home.
Some have dispatcht their cakes and creame,
Before that we have left to dreame;
And some have wept, and woo’d, and plighted troth,
And chose their priest, ere we can cast off sloth;
Many a green gown has been given;
Many a kisse, both odde and even;
Many a glance too has been sent
From out the eye, Love’s firmament;
Many a jest told of the keyes betraying
This night, and locks pickt, ye w’are not a Maying!”

Of the festive appearance of the streets in summer, and the hospitality of the citizens, and the setting of the Midsummer Watch, Stow speaks at length (Thoms’s edition, p. 39):—

“In the months of June and July, on the vigils of festival days, and on the same festival days in the evenings after the sun setting, there were usually made bonfires in the streets, every man bestowing wood or labour towards them; the wealthier sort also, before their doors, near to the said bonfires, would set out tables on the vigils, furnished with sweet bread and good drink, and on the festival days with meats and drinks plentifully, whereunto they would invite their neighbours and passengers also to sit and be merry with them in great familiarity, praising God for His benefits bestowed on them. These were called bonfires as well of good amity amongst neighbours that being before at controversy were there, by the labour of others, reconciled, and made of bitter enemies loving friends; and also for the virtue that a great fire hath to purge the infection of the air. On the vigil of St. John the Baptist, and on St. Peter and Paul the apostles, every man’s door being shadowed with green birch, long fennel, St. John’s wort, orpin, white lilies, and such like, garnished upon with garlands of beautiful flowers, had also lamps of glass, with oil burning in them all the night; some hung out branches of iron curiously wrought, containing hundreds of lamps alight at once, which made a goodly show, namely in New Fish Street, Thames Street, etc.”

Drawn by Grignon, photographed by Dr Diamond
J. Hale Keur Sr.
A FÊTE AT HORSELYDOWN IN 159O
From a picture by G. Hoffnagle at Hatfield House.

At Whitsuntide 1900 I was at Treves. It is the custom on Whit Sunday to hold a great procession in which, apparently, the whole population takes part through the principal streets to the Cathedral. The girls are dressed in white with white flowers in their hair; the younger girls carry baskets filled with white flowers; men, women, and children are all chanting as they go; groups of priests, boys in scarlet, beadles and other ecclesiastical selections, adorn the procession. If that were all I should not notice it in this place. But in addition every street through which the procession passed was decorated with branches. And here for the first time I understood the lines already quoted, how

“Each field turns a street, each street a parke
Made green and trimmed with trees; see how
Devotion gives each house a bough,
Or branch; each porch, each doore, ere this,
An arke or tabernacle is,
Made up of white-thorn neatly interwove.”

For the decking of the house did not consist of a branch or a bunch over a porch or a window, but the whole ground-floor of every house was covered with great boughs closely placed side by side so as to look like a lane of trees. Herrick did not exaggerate.

Stow goes on to speak of the Marching Watch:—

“Besides the standing Watches all in bright Harness, in every Ward and Street in this city and Suburbs, there was also a Marching Watch, that passed through the principal Streets thereof, to wit, from the little conduit by Paul’s Gate to West Cheap, by the Stocks through Cornhill, by Leaden Hall to Aldgate, then back down Fenchurch Street, by Grasse church, about Grasse church conduit, and up Grasse church street into Cornhill, and through it into West Cheap again, and so broke up. The whole way ordered for this marching watch extendeth to three thousand two hundred Taylor’s Yards of Assize; for the furniture whereof with Lights, there were appointed seven hundred cressets, five hundred of them being found by the Companies, the other two hundred by the Chamber of London. Besides the which Lights every Constable in London, in number more than two hundred and forty, had his Cresset; the charge of every Cresset was in Light two shillings and fourpence, and every cresset had two men, one to bear or hold it, another to bear a Bag with Light, and to serve it, so that the Poor Men pertaining to the Cressets, taking Wages, besides that every one had a strawen Hat, with a Badge painted, and his breakfast, amounted in number to almost two thousand. The marching Watch contained in number about two thousand men, part of them being old Soldiers, of skill to be Captains, Lieutenants, Serjeants, Corporals, etc., Wiflers, Drummers, and Fifes, Standard and Ensign Bearers, Demilances on great Horses, Gunners with hand guns, or half Hakes, Archers in coats of white Fustian, signed on the breast and back with the Arms of the City, their Bows bent in their Hands, with Sheafs of Arrows by their Sides; Pikemen in bright Corslets, Burganets, etc., Halbards, the like the Billmen in Almain Rivets, and Aprons of Mail in great Number. There were also divers Pageants, Morris Dancers, Constables, the one-half, which was one hundred and twenty on St. John’s Eve, the other half on St. Peter’s Eve, in bright harness, some over Gilt, and every one a jornet of Scarlet thereupon, and a Chain of Gold, his henchman following him, his Minstrels before him, and his Cresset Light passing by him, the Waits of the City, the Mayor’s officers for his Guard before him, all in a livery of woosted, or Sea Jackets party-coloured, the Mayor himself well mounted on Horseback, the Swordbearer before him in fair Armour well mounted also, the Mayor’s Footmen, and the like Torch Bearers about him, Henchmen twain upon great stirring Horses, following him. The Sheriffs’ Watches came one after the other in like Order, but not so large in Number as the Mayor’s; for where the Mayor had, besides his Giant, three Pageants, each of the Sheriffs had, besides their Giants, but two Pageants; each their Morris Dance, and one Henchman, their Officers in jackets of woosted or Sea, party-coloured, differing from the Mayor’s and each from other, but having harnessed Men a great many.

This Midsummer Watch was thus accustomed yearly, time out of Mind, until the year 1539, the 31st of Henry VIII., in which year, on the 8th of May, a great Muster was made by the Citizens at the Mile’s End, all in bright Harness, with Coats of White Silk, or Cloth and Chains of Gold, in three great Battels, to the number of fifteen thousand, which passed through London to Westminster, and so through the Sanctuary, and round about the Park of St. James, and returned home through Oldborne. King Henry, then considering the great Charges of the Citizens for the Furniture of this unusual Muster, forbad the Marching Watch provided for at Midsummer for that Year; which being once laid down, was not raised again till the year 1548, the 2nd of Edward VI., Sir John Gresham then being Mayor, who caused the Marching Watch, both on the eve of St. John Baptist and of St. Peter the Apostle, to be revived and set forth in as comely order as it hath been accustomed, which Watch was also beautified by the number of more than three hundred Demilances and light Horsemen, prepared by the citizens to be sent into Scotland for the rescue of the town of Haddington, and others kept by the Englishmen.” (Stow, vol. i.)

As for dancing, never was there a time when it was more popular. Everybody danced: the Queen at Whitehall danced the brawl; the kitchen-maid in the street danced the ney. They danced the solemn pavane, the Cassamezzo galliard, the canary dance, the Coranto, the Cavolta, the jig, the galliard, the fancy, and the Ney, and perhaps many more. They played cards: they played at primiero, trumpe, gleek, gresso, new cut, knave out of doors, ruff, noddy, most and pace; they got through the long winter evenings mainly with the help of cards. Bowling was a summer amusement; tournaments belonged to the Court; hunting was an amusement for the richer sort; the people also fought cocks, wrestled, practised archery, and played quarter-staff. The old Catholic feasts and sports—such as the Feast of Fools, the Boy Bishop, the Mysteries in the Churches, were abolished; but in their own houses they had mumming and mummers; for the ladies there was embroidery; there was also fine work of all kinds. And there was a great demand for monsters: a pig with eight legs; strange fishes caught in the river; a mermaid quite fresh, unfortunately dead, caught off the Yarmouth Roads; a calf with two backs; a lobster with six claws; these things were always on exhibition, for the most part, in Fleet Street. Their Morris dances, their Maypoles, Whitsun Ales, their fairs and wakes, and, in fact, every occasion for meeting together, singing, feasting, and dancing, this Protestant city kept up.

THE DANCING PICTURE
By Holbein and Janet, in the possession of Major-General F. E. Sotheby.

Among the amusements of the people must not be forgotten the common custom of telling stories. The long evenings when the family gathered round the fire, the only light in the room, were tedious: they could hardly go to bed much before eight, though they rose long before daybreak. Story-telling was an amusement which had long ago pleased the Saxons and the Danes, who recounted the great deeds of their ancestors to wile away the winter evening. Perhaps many of the stories which found their way into books during the sixteenth century served this purpose, while the merry jests of Skogan, and Peele, and the rest, certainly formed part of the story-teller’s répertoire.

Another amusement was that of reading. We have already seen what an immense field was opened up for those who loved books, by the shoals which during Elizabeth’s reign were issued from the press.

The first Lottery was set on foot in the year 1559. The drawing took place at the west door of St. Paul’s, and continued daily from the 11th of January to the 6th of May following. The Lottery did not gain its full power until the eighteenth century. It is sufficient here to record the first appearance of this baleful institution, fruitful mother of crime.