The pantaloon was taken from the Venetians, and his former dress, a gown over a red waistcoat, was that of a Venetian citizen. Pulcinello, or Punch, as I am informed by an Italian friend, of considerable literary acquirements—the Chevalier Mortara—is derived from one Paolo or Paol Cinello, who was an attendant or buffoon at an inn at Acerras, about the year 1600, and so famous for his humour, that Silvio Fiorillo, the comedian, persuaded him to join his troop, whence his fame soon spread.
In some parts, particularly in the west and north of the kingdom, the old Christmas play is still kept up, and a specimen is hereafter given. The subject of these plays, which agree in general effect, although varying in detail, is ‘St. George and the Dragon, with the King of Egypt, and Fair Sabra, his daughter;’ usually accompanied by ‘Father Christmas and the Doctor,’ and sometimes by very incongruous characters; as the great and exemplary man, whose loss the nation is now lamenting, as that of the first character in its history, the Duke of Wellington; and General Wolfe, who fights St. George, and then sings a song about his own death, beginning—
“Bold General Wolfe to his men did say,
Come, come, ye lads, come follow me,
To yonder mountain, which is so high;
Ye lads of honour, all for your honour,
Gain the victory or die.”
Occasionally burlesque characters are introduced, who have nothing to do with the piece, as Hub-Bub, Old Squire, &c., and they generally announce themselves, as one mentioned about 1760, by Jackson, in his ‘History of the Scottish Stage.’
“My name it is Captain Calf-tail, Calf-tail,
And on my back it is plain to be seen;
Although I am simple and wear a fool’s-cap,
I am dearly beloved of a queen.”
The buffoon of the piece used formerly to wear a calf-skin, “I’ll go put on my devilish robes, I mean my Christmas calf’s-skin suit, and then walk to the woods,” says Robin Goodfellow, in the time of James the First. “I’ll put me on my great carnation nose, and wrap me in a rousing calf-skin suit, and come like some hobgoblin.” The performers, who are usually young persons in humble life, are attired, including St. George and the Dragon, much in the same manner, having white trousers and waistcoats, showing their shirt-sleeves, and decorated with ribbons and handkerchiefs; each carrying a drawn sword or cudgel in his hand: as one of the Somersetshire mummers says, “Here comes I liddle man Jan wi’ my sword in my han!” They wear high caps of pasteboard, covered with fancy paper, and ornamented with beads, small pieces of looking-glass, bugles, &c., and generally have long strips of pith hanging down from the top, with shreds of different coloured cloth strung on them, the whole having a fanciful and smart effect. The Turk sometimes has a turban; Father Christmas is represented as a grotesque old man, with a large mask and comic wig, and a huge club in his hand; the Doctor has a three-cornered hat, and painted face, with some ludicrous dress, being the comic character of the piece; the lady is generally in the dress of last century, when it can be got up; and the hobby-horse, when introduced, which is rarely, has a representation of a horse’s hide. Wellington and Wolfe, when they appear, are dressed in any sort of uniform that can be procured for the nonce, and no doubt will now be found as militia men of the county where the play is represented.
These plays are of very remote origin, and founded probably on the old mysteries before mentioned, the subject of St. George being introduced at the time of the crusades. A play was performed before Henry the Fifth at Windsor, in 1416, when the Emperor Sigismund was with him, founded on the incidents of the life of St. George, and “his ridyng and fighting with the dragon, with his speer in his hand.”
It is curious to observe how near, in many cases, the style of the early drama approaches to the homeliness of our present country Christmas plays; so that one may suppose that not only their structure is derived from the ancient representations, but that even some of the speeches have been carried down with some little modification. When St. George struts in, saying, “Here am I, St. George,” he is but repeating the introduction of characters sometimes used of old. Johnson, who wrote the favourite romance of the ‘Seven Champions of Christendome,’ about the time of Elizabeth, took his subject from early metrical romances, and particularly from the story of St. George and the fair Sabra, in the old poetical legend of Sir Bevis of Hampton, which is older than Chaucer.
The Cornish had their Guary or Miracle Play from a very early date, and amphitheatres are still existing where they used to be performed.
The ‘Creation of the World,’ by William Jordan, of Helstone, in 1611, has been published by the late Davies Gilbert, as also two other Cornish mysteries, of much earlier date, ‘The Passion of our Lord,’ and the ‘Resurrection.’ Carew, in his ‘Survey of the County,’ gives an amusing anecdote of the stupidity, feigned or real, of one of the performers. It having come to his turn, the ordinary or manager, said “Goe forthe, man, and shew thy selfe.” The actor stepped forward, and gravely repeated, “Goe forthe man, and shew thy selfe.” The ordinary, in dismay, whispered to him, “Oh, you marre all the play.” The actor, with very emphatic gesture, repeated aloud, “Oh, you marre all the play.” The prompter, then losing his patience, reviled the actor with all the bitter terms he could think of, which the actor repeated with a serious countenance, as if part of the play. The ordinary was at last obliged to give over, the assembly having received a great deal more sport than twenty such guaries could have afforded.