24. Belfast. Chap-book. 4 N. Q. x. 487. (‘The Christmas Rhymes.’)
25. Ballybrennan, Wexford. Oral. Kennedy, The Banks of the Boro, 226.
Uncertain Locality.
26. Sharpe’s London Magazine, i. 154. Oral.
27. Archaeologist, i. 176. Chap-book. H. Sleight, A Christmas Pageant Play or Mysterie of St. George, Alexander and the King of Egypt. (Said to be ‘compiled from and collated with several curious ancient black-letter editions.’ I have never seen or heard of a ‘black-letter’ edition, and I take it the improbable title is Mr. Sleight’s own.)
28. Halliwell. Oral. Popular Rhymes, 231. (Said to be the best of six versions.)
29. F. L. J. iv. 97. (Fragment, from ‘old MS.’)]
The degollada figures of certain sword-dances preserve with some clearness the memory of an actual sacrifice, abolished and replaced by a mere symbolic dumb show. Even in these, and still more in the other dances, the symbolism is very slight. It is completely subordinated to the rhythmic evolutions of a choric figure. There is an advance, however, in the direction of drama, when in the course of the performance some one is represented as actually slain. In a few dances of the type discussed in the last chapter, such a dramatic episode precedes or follows the regular figures. It is recorded in three or four of the German examples[728]. A writer in the Gentleman’s Magazine describes a Yorkshire dance in which ‘the Bessy interferes while they are making a hexagon with their swords, and is killed.’ Amongst the characters of this dance is a Doctor, and although the writer does not say so, it may be inferred that the function of the Doctor is to bring the Bessy to life again[729]. It will be remembered that a precisely similar device is used in the German Shrove Tuesday plays to symbolize the resurrection of the year in spring after its death in winter. The Doctor reappears in one of the Durham dances, and here there is no doubt as to the part he plays. At a certain point the careful formations of the dance degenerate into a fight. The parish clergyman rushes in to separate the combatants. He is accidentally slain. There is general lamentation, but the Doctor comes forward, and revives the victim, and the dance proceeds[730].
It is but a step from such dramatic episodes to the more elaborate performances which remain to be considered in the present chapter, and which are properly to be called plays rather than dances. They belong to a stage in the evolution of drama from dance, in which the dance has been driven into the background and has sometimes disappeared altogether. But they have the same characters, and especially the same grotesques, as the dances, and the general continuity of the two sets of performances cannot be doubted. Moreover, though the plays differ in many respects, they have a common incident, which may reasonably be taken to be the central incident, in the death and revival, generally by a Doctor, of one of the characters. And in virtue of this central incident one is justified in classing them as forms of a folk-drama in which the resurrection of the year is symbolized.
I take first, on account of the large amount of dancing which remains in it, the play acted at the end of the eighteenth century by ‘The Plow Boys or Morris Dancers’ of Revesby in Lincolnshire[731]. There are seven dancers: six men, the Fool and his five sons, Pickle Herring, Blue Breeches, Pepper Breeches, Ginger Breeches, and Mr. Allspice[732]; and one woman, Cicely. The somewhat incoherent incidents are as follows. The Fool acts as presenter and introduces the play. He fights successively a Hobby-horse and a ‘Wild Worm’ or dragon. The dancers ‘lock their swords to make the glass,’ which, after some jesting, is broken up again. The sons determine to kill the Fool. He kneels down and makes his will, with the swords round his neck[733]; is slain and revived by Pickle Herring stamping with his foot. This is repeated with variations. Hitherto, the dancers have ‘footed it’ round the room at intervals. Now follow a series of sword-dances. During and after these the Fool and his sons in turn woo Cicely, the Fool taking the name of ‘Anthony[734],’ Pickle Herring that of ‘the Lord of Pool,’ and Blue Breeches that of ‘the Knight of Lee.’ There is nothing particularly interesting about this part of the play, obviously written to ‘work in’ the woman grotesque. In the course of it a morris-dance is introduced, and a final sword-dance, with an obeisance to the master of the house, winds up the whole.