London

by Walter Besant

The court pageants may be understood by reading the masques of Ben Jonson. Everything costly, splendid, and precious was lavished upon these shows. Everything that machinery could contrive was devised for them. Ben Jonson himself, speaking of the performance of his "Hymenæa," says: "Such was the exquisite performance, as, besides the pomp, splendor, or what we may call apparelling of such presentments, that alone, had all else been absent, was of power to surprise with delight, and steal away the spectators from themselves. Nor was there wanting whatsoever might give to the furniture or complement, either in riches, or strangeness of the habits, delicacy of dances, magnificence of the scene, or divine rapture of musick. Only the envy was that it lasted not still."

It was not until 1570 that the first theatre was built. The popularity of the play had already begun to grow with amazing rapidity. In twenty years there were five theatres, with performances every day. The Queen had four companies of children trained to perform, viz., the children of St. Paul's, the children of the chapel, the children of Westminster, and the children of Windsor. The public actors, too, were often called upon to perform before the Queen.

These companies were: Lord Leicester's company, Sir Robert Lane's, Lord Clinton's, Lord Warwick's, the Lord Chamberlain's, the Earl of Sussex's, Lord Howard's, the Earl of Essex's, Lord Strange's, the Earl of Derby's, the Lord Admiral's, the Earl of Hertford's, and Lord Pembroke's. It is not supposed that all these companies existed at the same time; but the list shows how company after company was begun and maintained on the credit of some great lord.

The theatres at the end of the sixteenth century were seven in number—the Globe, at Bankside; the Red Bull, in St. John Street; the Curtain, in Shoreditch; the Fortune, in Whitecross Street. These four were public theatres. The other three were called private houses—the Blackfriars, the Whitefriars, and the Cockpit or Phœnix Theatre. In the next chapter we shall assist at a matinee of one of Shakespeare's plays.

But the people lost no opportunity of "making up," acting, and dancing. The pageant became more and more a play. There were pageants of more or less splendor—we all know the great pageants of Kenilworth—held in every great man's house, in every company's hall, and in private persons' houses, to mark every possible occasion. Thus, in the year 1562, on July 20, took place the marriage of one Coke, citizen (but of what company I know not)—was he a cousin of Edward Coke, afterwards Speaker?—with the daughter of Mr. Nicolls, master of London Bridge. My Lord Mayor and all the Aldermen, with many ladies and other worshipful men and women, were present at the wedding. Mr. Bacon, an eminent divine, preached the wedding sermon. After the discourse the company went home to the Bridge House to dinner, where was as good cheer as ever was known—Stow says so, and he knew very well—with all manner of music and dancing, and at night a masque till midnight. But this was only half the feast, for next day the wedding was again kept at the Bridge House with great cheer. After supper more mumming, after that more masques. One was in cloth of gold, the next consisted of friars, and the third of nuns. First the friars and the nuns danced separately, one company after the other, and then they danced together. Considering that it was only two years since the friars and the nuns had been finally suppressed, there must have been a certain piquancy in this dance. It is always, at such times, put on the stage. One of the first things, for instance, done in Madrid when Spain got her short-lived republic was that in every café chantant they put a friar and a nun on the stage to dance and sing together.

They still kept the saint's day of their company; in fact, when the old faith was suppressed the people willingly endured a change of doctrine so long as they were not called upon to give up their feasting, which was exactly what had happened in Italy and elsewhere when the people were induced or forced to become Christians. They made no objection to doctrine, provided their practice was not interfered with. Therefore the Protestant citizens kept up their Whitsun ales, their wakes, their Easter and Christmas feastings. All the saints' days which brought something better than ordinary to eat, with morris dances, May-poles, bonfires, music, and Feasts of Misrule were religiously conserved. As to the Feast of Misrule, hear the testimony of the contemporary moralist:

"Thus all things set in order, then have they their hobby-horses, their dragons, and other antiques, together with their pipers and thundering drummers, to strike up the Devil's Dance. Thus march this merry company towards the church and church-yard, their pipers piping, their drummers thundering, their stumpes dancing, their bells jingling, their handkerchiefs fluttering about their heads like madmen, their hobby-horses and other monsters skirmishing among the throng, and in this sort they go to the church like devils incarnate, with such a confused noise that no man can hear his own voice. Then the foolish people—they look, they stare, they laugh, they cheer, they mount upon forms and pews to see the goodly pageants solemnized in this sort. Then, after this, about the church they go again and again, and so forth into the church-yard, where they have commonly their summer halls, their bowers, arbors, and banqueting-houses set up, wherein they feast, banquet, and dance all that day, and, peradventure, all that night too."

To keep a troop of servants has always been a mark of state. Ladies used to beat their servants—following the example of the Queen, who sometimes boxed the ears of her courtiers. Everybody of position travelled, and nearly everybody went to Italy, with results disastrous to religion and to morals. One of the worst figures in the Elizabethan gallery is the Englishman Italianized. Of course on his return the traveller gave himself strange airs. How they travelled and what they saw may be read in that most charming book, the Epistolæ Hoellianæ.

Card-playing and gaming were the commonest form of amusement. The games were primero, which Falstaff foreswore, trump, gleek, gresco, new cut, knave out-of-doors, ruff, noddy, post and pace—all of these games corresponding, no doubt, to those still played.

Another favorite amusement was dancing in all its various forms, from the stately court dance to the merry circle on the village green. The principal dances were the solemn pavane, the brawl, the Passamezzo galliard, the Canary dance, the coranto, the lavolta, the jig, the galliard, the fancy, and the hey.