Mention has been made of Hugh Rhodes and his "Book of Nurture." It is pretty evident that this master of music was attached to the older form of faith, since he published in Queen Mary's reign a poem bearing the extravagant title: "The Song of the Chyld-Bysshop, as it was songe before the Queen's Maiestie in her priuie chamber at her mannour of Saint James in the feeldes on Saynt Nicholas' Day and Innocents' Day this yeare now present by the chylde bisshop of Poules church with his company. Londini in ædibus Johannis Cawood typographi reginæ, 1555." This effusion Warton derides as a "fulsome panegyric" on the Queen's devotion; and the censure is not wholly unjust, since the author, without much regard for accuracy, likens that least lovable of our sovereigns to Judith, Esther, and the Blessed Virgin. Meanwhile, who or what was the "Chyld-Bysshop," or, as he is usually styled, the Boy-Bishop?
In the first place it may be noted that the Latin equivalent of the phrase was not, as might be expected, Episcopus puerilis, but Episcopus puerorum, suggesting that the boy, if boy he was, was elevated above his compeers and possessed perhaps some jurisdiction over them. There is no question of the access of dignity, but the amount of authority enjoyed by him would have depended on the humour of his fellows, and boys are not always docile subjects even of rulers of their own election. This, however, is a minor consideration, since the Boy-Bishop, when we first make his acquaintance, has already emerged from the obscurity of school and playground, and made good his claim to the homage of superiors in age and station. Hence the term "Boy-Bishop" appears to define more accurately than its Latin analogue the rank and privileges of the immature prelate.
It seems to lie in the nature of things that the Boy-Bishop was originally an institution of the boys themselves, the chief figure in a game in which they aped, as children so commonly do, the procedure of their elders, and that, in course of time, those elders, for reasons deemed good and sufficient, extended their patronage to the innocent parade, and made it a constituent of their own festal round.
In tracing the migration of the custom from the precincts to the interior of the church we must not forget the tradition of the Roman Saturnalia, with the season and spirit of which it accorded, and to which the Christian festival, with its greater purity and decorum, may have been prescribed as an antidote. The pagan holiday was held on December 17th, and as the Sigillaria formed a continuation of it, the joyous celebration endured a whole week. The Boy-Bishop's term of office was yet longer, extending from St. Nicholas' Day (December 6th) to Holy Innocents' Day (December 28th).
The distinctive feature of the Saturnalia was the inversion of ordinary relationships; the world was turned upside down, and the licence that prevailed, by dint of long usage and inviolable sentiment, imparted to the merry-making a rough and even immoral character. Slaves assumed the position of masters, and masters of slaves; and the general nature of the observance is aptly described by the patron deity in Lucian's play on the subject: "During my reign of a week no one may attend to his business, but only to drinking, singing, playing, making imaginary kings, playing servants at table with their masters."
The advent of Christianity was impotent to arrest the annual scenes of disorder; and, in some form or another—sometimes tolerated, sometimes the object of the Church's anathema—the tradition held its own down through the Dark Ages, and we meet with the substance of the Saturnalia, during the centuries immediately preceding the Reformation, in the burlesque festivals with which the rule of the Boy-Bishop has been often identified. We shall see presently how far this judgment is correct. An example will, no doubt, readily recur to the reader from a source to which we owe so many impressions of the Middle Ages, some true, others false or at least exaggerated—we mean the historical romances of Sir Walter Scott. That writer has introduced into "The Abbot" an Abbot of Unreason, and he explains in a note that "The Roman Catholic Church connived at the frolics of the rude vulgar, who, in almost all Catholic countries, enjoyed, or at least assumed, the privilege of making some Lord of the Revels, who, under the name of the Abbot of Unreason, the Boy-Bishop, or the President of Fools, occupied the churches, profaned the holy places by a mock imitation of the sacred rites, and sang indecent parodies of the hymns of the church." The last touch, at any rate, may be safely challenged as untrue, and the whole picture has the appearance of being largely overdrawn. This is certainly the case as regards England, though there is evidence that on the Continent the Boy-Bishop celebration was, at certain times and in certain places, not free from objectionable features. In 1274 the Council of Salzburg was moved to prohibit the "noxii ludi quos vulgaris eloquentia Episcopus puerorum appellat" on the ground that they had produced great enormities. Probably this sentence referred to the accessories, such as immoral plays, but it is quite possible that the Boy-Bishop ceremonies themselves had degenerated into a farce. As the Rex Stultorum festival was prohibited at Beverly Minster in 1371, we must conclude that similar extravagance and profanity had crept into Yuletide observances in this country. The festival of the Boy-Bishop, however, was conducted with a decency hardly to be expected in view of its apparent associations. It would seem, indeed, to have been an impressive and edifying function, and that reasonable exception can be taken to it only on the score of childishness, and the absence of any warrant from Scripture, apart from the rather doubtful sanction of St. Paul's words, "The elder shall serve the younger."
There are weighty considerations on the other side. The mediæval Church derived stores of strength from its sympathetic attitude towards women and children and the illiterate; and there was a sensible loss of vitality and interest when the ministry of the Church was curtailed to suit the common sense of a handful of statesmen, scholars, and philosophers. At the time the festival was abolished, opinion was divided even among the leaders of reform. Thus Archbishop Strype openly favoured the custom, holding that it "gave a spirit to the children," and was an encouragement to them to study in the hope of attaining some day the real mitre. Broadly speaking, then, the Boy-Bishop festival is evidence of the tender condescension of Holy Mother Church to little children, and it does not stand alone. At Eyton, Rutlandshire, and elsewhere, children were allowed to play in church on Holy Innocents' Day, possibly in the same way as at the "Burial of the Alleluia" in a church at Paris, where a chorister whipped a top, on which the word "Alleluia" was inscribed, from one end of the choir to the other. As Mr. Evelyn White points out, this "quickening of golden praise," by its union of religious service and child's play, exactly reproduces the conditions of the Boy-Bishop festival. Certain it is that the festival was extraordinarily popular. There was hardly a church or school throughout the country in which it was not observed, and if we turn to the Northumberland Book cited in the foregoing chapter we shall find that provision was made for its celebration in the chapels of the nobility as well. The inventory is as follows:
"Imprimis, myter well garnished with perle and precious stones with nowches of silver and gilt before and behind.
"Item, iiij rynges of silver and gilt with four redde precious stones in them.
"Item, j pontifical with silver and gilt, with a blew stone in hytt.