Or Diggon her is, or I missay.’
‘Diccon’ was popular among the English peasantry from the twelfth to the eighteenth century.
[27]. A Richard Mileson entered C. C. Coll., Cam., in 1659 (Masters’ Hist. C.C. Coll.). Edward Myleson occurs in the Calendar to Pleadings (Elizabeth).
[28]. This rivalry seems to have made its mark upon the popular superstitions of our forefathers, for to this day the ignis fatuus of our marshy districts is called either ‘Will-a-Wisp’ or ‘Jack-a-Lanthorn.’ It at least reminds us that there was a day when every country clown was either ‘Jack’ or ‘Will.’
[29]. A certain John Willimote, a taverner, was sworn before the Chancellor of Oxford University to sell good beer, 1434. (Mun. Acad. Oxon., p. 595). ‘Williametta Cantatrix.’ (Rot. Lit. Clausarum).
[30]. A curious spelling of this is found in the entry, ‘Haunce, the Luter, ii.s—vi.d.’ (Privy Purse Exp. Princess Mary, p. 104.) ‘Hankin Booby’ was the common name for a clown. (Chappell’s English Songs, i. 73.)
‘Thus for her love and loss poor Hankin dies,
His amorous soul down flies.’
Musarum Deliciæ, 1655.
[31]. ‘Jack’ was really the nickname of Jacobus or James. Jacques was the common name among the peasantry of France, and as a national sobriquet was to that country what John was to England. On its introduction to ourselves, it seems to have been tacitly accepted as but a synonym for John, and has been used as such ever since.