Whitsuntide. Apart from its observance as a religious festival, Whitsuntide was, in times past, celebrated with much ceremony. In the Catholic times of England it was usual to dramatize the descent of the Holy Ghost, which this festival commemorates—a custom which we find alluded to in Barnaby Googe’s translation of Naogeorgus:
“On Whit-Sunday white pigeons tame in strings from heaven flie,
And one that framed is of wood still hangeth in the skie,
Thou seest how they with idols play, and teach the people too:
None otherwise than little girls with puppets used to do.”
This custom appears to have been carried to an extravagant height in Spain, for Mr. Fosbroke[661] tells us that the gift of the Holy Ghost was represented by “thunder from engines which did much damage.” Water, oak leaves, burning torches, wafers, and cakes were thrown down from the church roof; pigeons and small birds, with cakes tied to their legs, were let loose; and a long censer was swung up and down. In our own country, many costly pageants were exhibited at this season. Thus, at Chester, the Whitsun Mysteries were acted during the Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday in Whitsun week. The performers were carried from one place to another by means of a scaffold—a huge and ponderous machine mounted on wheels, gayly decorated with flags, and divided into two compartments—the upper of which formed the stage, and the lower, defended from vulgar curiosity by coarse canvas draperies, answered the purposes of a green-room. To each craft in the city a separate mystery was allotted. Thus, the drapers exhibited the “Creation,” the tanners took the “Fall of Lucifer,” the water-carriers of the Dee acted the “Deluge,” etc. The production, too, of these pageants was extremely costly; indeed, each one has been set down at fifteen or twenty pounds sterling. An allusion to this custom is made in the “Two Gentlemen of Verona” (iv. 4), where Julia says:
“At Pentecost,
When all our pageants of delight were play’d,
Our youth got me to play the woman’s part,
And I was trimm’d in Madam Julia’s gown.”
The morris-dance, too, was formerly a common accompaniment to the Whitsun ales, a practice which is still kept up in many parts of the country. In “Henry V.” (ii. 4), the Dauphin thus alludes to it:
“I say, ’tis meet we all go forth,
To view the sick and feeble parts of France:
And let us do it with no show of fear;
No, with no more than if we heard that England
Were busied with a Whitsun morris-dance.”
And once more, in the “Winter’s Tale” (iv. 4), Perdita says to Florizel:
“Methinks I play as I have seen them do
In Whitsun pastorals.”
A custom formerly kept up in connection with Whitsuntide was the “Whitsun ale.” Ale was so prevalent a drink among us in olden times as to become a part of the name of various festal meetings, as Leet ale, Lamb ale, Bride ale (bridal), and, as we see, Whitsun ale. Thus our ancestors were in the habit of holding parochial meetings every Whitsuntide, usually in some barn near the church, consisting of a kind of picnic, as each parishioner brought what victuals he could spare. The ale, which had been brewed pretty strong for the occasion, was sold by the churchwardens, and from its profits a fund arose for the repair of the church.[662] These meetings are referred to by Shakespeare in “Pericles” (i. 1):
“It hath been sung at festivals,
On ember-eves and holy-ales.”