“‘The friar, preaching, cursed the thief (the pudding in his sleeve).
To fish for sprats with golden hooks is foolish, by your leave.
To travel well, an ass’s ears, ape’s face, hog’s mouth, and ostrich legs.
He does not care a pin for thieves, who limps about and begs.
Be always first man at a feast, and last man at a fray.
The short way round, in spite of all, is still the longest way.
“‘When the hungry curate licks the knife, there’s not much for the clerk.
When the pilot, turning pale and sick, looks up, the storm grows dark.’
Then loud they laughed; the fat cook’s tears ran down into the pan;
The steward shook, that he was forced to drop the brimming can;
And then again the women screamed and every stag-hound bayed:
And why? Because the motley fool so wise a sermon made!”
The preacher, in conclusion, probably took the pearl spoon he wore in his cap, and ate his porridge with it; and, his day’s duties terminated, turned to the kennel, and slept the night out with the hounds. He might have been worse lodged. There however we will leave him, to treat, henceforward, more with the especial individual than with the order generally.
ENGLISH COURT FOOLS, FROM THE REIGN OF EDMUND IRONSIDE.
It is a singular but incontrovertible fact, that there are many individuals now living, who are indebted for various benefits, and even no inconsiderable wealth (in their corporate capacity), to the liberality of long-departed jesters at our English Courts. The estates so long held by the Cathedral Church of Canterbury, at Walworth, were originally the pious gift of the first English jester on record.[C] The name of this joculator was Hitard, perhaps Hit-hard, from the success of his sayings. He belonged to Edmund Ironside, who, out of gratitude, bestowed on him the town of Walworth, in the year 1016. That most gallant King could have had little leisure to listen to the wit of Hit-hard, for his entire reign was comprised within seven months of the year last mentioned, and he was fighting against Canute and his Danes nearly the whole time. Hit-hard was more fortunate, for he continued landlord of Walworth during the reigns of Canute, Harold Harefoot, Hardicanute, and a portion of the reign of Edward the Confessor. In the latter reign, after a quiet enjoyment of his dignity for about thirty years, Hit-hard resolved to proceed to Rome, there to live the remainder of his days, and there to die. Previous to setting out, he performed a grateful act most gracefully. He drew up a deed by which he conferred the whole of his possessions at Walworth,—that was, in fact, the whole of Walworth itself,—upon the Cathedral of Canterbury. He even went down to the ancient city, and entering the church, placed the deed of conveyance, with his own hands, upon the high altar. And then the venerable ex-jester to the gallant Ironside set off to the Holy City, helped on his way, no doubt, by many a “Pax vobiscum!”
In the stormy times that followed, we have no record of any individual court jester, though there is no reason to doubt of the presence of that official at our Courts before the Conquest. William, both as Duke and King, possessed this ordinary gay appendage to his household. He loved mirth, as he loved good living; and as we know that he conferred a manor on his cook, for making an excellent soup, we may be prepared to find that he was not an indifferent patron to a meritorious fool.
Accordingly, the great Conqueror, solemn man as he sometimes was, did not think his household complete without the jester. Indeed, we hear of more than one. They were princely fellows, and had a right princely master. One of these, Gollet, or Gallet, a native of Bayeux, hearing of a conspiracy against William’s life, went to his chamber-door, and roused the great Duke out of his first sleep, by beating against it with an iron hammer, and crying out at the same time, according to the rhymed edition of the story, by Robert Waice:
“Ouvrez, dit-il, ouvrez, ouvrez!
Jà morrez tout; levez, levez!”
This good turn merited great recompense; but we know not what Gollet got for his faithful service. On the other hand, we hear of a guerdon to another of William’s fools, but we are not told of any special act of which it was the reward. The lucky personage was Berdic, the Joculator, who retired from Court and merry duty, the lord of three towns, with five carucates of land, and all rent-free; notice of which will be found in Domesday Book, under the head of “Gloucester.” So cunning was Berdic in mixing sweet and pungent together, that he died a sort of Crœsus, but he was neither the first nor last of court fools who left land and gold-pieces, at his death. It is a pity that the Norman could not take a joke as readily as he could reward a jester. We all know how, by resenting the sarcasm of the French King Philip, on his obesity, he lost his own life.