Chapter XVI: Introduction: To the Second Series (13)

When the king rose from table, about four o'clock, as we find it in the private journal of one present, he purposed to view the alum-mines, about two miles distant from the Tower; but, being eager for the sport, he went forth again a-hunting. He shot at a stag and missed. The next bolt broke the thigh-bone, and the dog being long in coming, Lord Compton despatched the poor beast, whereby his capture was effected. We forbear to dwell on this, and much more of the like interest, returning with the king to supper, where the beauteous Grace Gerard was present, and Sir John Finett, her true knight and devoted slave. Dr Morton, then Bishop of Chester, was chaplain, doling out a long Latin grace with great unction.

The music had ceased, the second course being just served, when a signal was given for the king's pledge.

"Let each one pledge the fairest," cried the royal toast-master, moved to some unwonted gallantry by approximation with the fair and lusty dames about his person. For it hath been wittily if not wickedly said by a popular writer in another place that James was in all things like unto Solomon, save in the matter of women.

Now was there a brave stir throughout the assembly. Such pledging of mistresses and challenging of cups, that nothing could be like unto it.

"To the bright eyes and peerless grace of the lady Grace Gerard," said Sir John Finett, draining his goblet to the uttermost;--and the maiden's cheek glowed like a furnace.

"Said I not that he could win a lady's grace sooner than a monarch's disfavour? Nay, your Majesty, I but meant that Sir John conveys the fairest eyes and the warmest hearts into his own keeping, like an _Ochus-Bochus_," said Buckingham, looking envious at the distinction he had gained.

"I see plainly that Truth is hidden in a well," said Goring, drily.

Sir John Finett, courtier and dissembler as he was, could scarcely hide the truth of this sally. But he quickly recovered his self-possession ere the king's eye could detect a change. Yet did he not escape the vigilance of his two friends, who suspected the real cause of his absence on the preceding night.

"Thou shalt be her true knight to-morrow, and she shall be queen of our sports," said the king, graciously extending his hand to the blushing maiden.

But this speech pleased not some of the courtiers, and Buckingham, having his eye on this fair flower, secretly resolved that Sir John should not enjoy its fragrance unmolested.

On the following morning, being Sunday, there came a great company of peasants and handicraftsmen--notorious idlers about the parish--with a petition, wherein it was shown that the loyal and peaceable inhabitants of Lancashire had been long hindered of their usual diversions on Sundays and other holidays by the rigour of Puritans, Precisians, and such like folk,[32] who, being enemies to all innocent and lawful mirth, did mightily begrudge and maliciously restrain their use. These petitioners, therefore, prayed his Majesty, "that he would not forbid their exercising of all honest and lawful recreation, such as dancing of men and women, archery, running, leaping, and vaulting; nor prohibit the use of May-games, May-poles, morris-dances, and other like lawful sports, so that the same should not impediment or cause neglect of divine service."

The ground of this complaint was laid in the time of Elizabeth, who, in order to reform the manners of the people, instituted a high commission in the year 1579. The commissioners were Henry Earl of Derby, Henry Earl of Huntingdon, William Lord Bishop of Chester, and others. At their sittings, which were held in Manchester, they issued orders throughout the county against "pipers and minstrels playing, making, and frequenting bear-baiting and bull-baiting on the Sabbath days, or upon any other days in time of divine service, and also against superstitious ringing of bells, wakes, and common feasts; drunkenness, gaming, and other vicious and unprofitable pursuits." These restrictions the royal pedant thought incompatible with the public weal, and graciously answered the petitioners in such-wise that he would have these over-righteous zealots rebuked; that it was a misuse of their authority; and that he would not only grant the humble request of his subjects, but, on that very evening he would have a masque and an allegory, with dancing and other like diversions, by the lords and other nobility there present.

Such was the origin of the famous _Book of Sports_. His Majesty, on returning to the capital, issued a proclamation,[33] stating--

"That in his progress through Lancashire he found it necessary to rebuke some Puritans and precise people, and took order that the said unlawful carriage should not be used by any of them hereafter, in the prohibiting and unlawfully punishing his good people, for using their lawful recreations and honest exercises upon Sundays, after divine service." "His Majesty further saw that his loyal subjects in all other parts of the kingdom did suffer in the same kind, though not, perhaps, in the same degree as in Lancashire; and he did therefore, in his princely wisdom, publish a declaration to all his loving subjects concerning lawful sports to be used on Sundays and festivals."--Published by his royal command in the year 1618, under the title of the _Book of Sports_. The royal visit to Lancashire proved ultimately of more importance to the civil and ecclesiastical establishments of the kingdom than could have been anticipated either by the king or his subjects. This infamous _Book of Sports_ formed the first link in that mysterious chain of events, ending in the downfall of the Stuarts, and their exile and expulsion from the throne.

The gladsome tidings having been communicated to the petitioners, with one accord they galloped off, shouting and huzzaing, to the great annoyance of all peaceable and sober-minded persons, and the great dishonour of that holy day.

The king attended divine service at the chapel, where Dr Morton preached, commanding and exhorting to an obedience well pleasing to their Maker; inasmuch as it was rendered to the vicegerent of heaven, the high and mighty and puissant James, defender of the Faith, and so forth. After this comfortable and gracious doctrine, there was a rush-bearing[34] and a piping before the king in the great quadrangle. Robin Hood and Maid Marian, with the fool and hobby-horse, were, doubtless, enacted to the jingling of morris-dancers and other profanities.

These fooleries put the king into such good humour that he was more witty in his speech than ordinary. Some of these sayings have been recorded, and amongst the rest that well-known quibble which has been the origin of an absurd mistake, still current through the county, respecting the sirloin. It is said to have been knighted there by his Majesty, who found, such were his knight-making propensities, that other subjects were exhausted.

The occasion, as far as we have been able to gather, was thus:--Whilst he sat at meat, casting his eyes upon a noble _surloin_ at the lower end of the table, he cried out--

"Bring hither that _surloin_, sirrah, for 'tis worthy of a more honourable post, being, as I may say, not _surloin_ but _sirloin_, the noblest joint of all;" which ridiculous and desperate pun raised the wisdom and reputation of England's Solomon to the highest.

Great was the stir and preparation for the evening masque; a pageant containing many allegories and devices; dancing and merry games, with all other "lawful recreations and honest amusements." Little heed was given, we fear, to their Maker's service, these vain follies running in the heads and filling the thoughts of the few who chose to attend in the chapel; the greater portion were preparing for the entertainment, into which service they entered heartily, and without grudge.

Sir George Goring and Sir John Finett were verily indefatigable on the occasion, drilling and marshalling men, women, and children; conning their lessons, and correcting the awkward and ridiculous movements and mistakes of their pupils. Hobbe and the house steward were the foremost in their parts, having important functions allotted to them; one to grunt and howl in the similitude of a huge bear, and the other to roar in lieu of a lion, before the "_Bower of Beautie_" for such was the title or motto of the pageant. Nor was Sir John lacking in due homage to his mistress; she was appointed to enact "The Queen of Beautie." It was after much solicitation that she consented, receiving with great gravity and attention the instructions of her accomplished preceptor.

The day was nigh spent and the sun fast sinking on the ocean, now waiting with a chariot of flame to conduct him to other skies.

Grace was just finishing her toilet, and her maid adjusting the last plait in her head-dress, when a low and guarded knock announced a visitor. The door was slightly opened, when a messenger threw in a gay billet and departed. It was superscribed thus:--"_To the Fairest, These_."

With a quickened pulse and a tremulous hand, she glanced over the page, elaborately penned as follows:--

"The Bower of Beautie hath a snake; beware that he come not nigh
thee, for his tooth has venom, and his tail a sting.

"From the mask with the black visard and silver mantle.

"THESE."

She had barely finished the perusal, when there came tripping in the page of Sir John Finett, carrying a sealed billet redolent with the most costly perfume. The superscription was precisely similar, and nearly in the same hand:--"To the Fairest, These."

She hastily broke open the packet.

"Beauteous and most matchless queen! jealous of thy coming, the orb
of day hasteneth to hide himself in Thetis's lap. He leaveth thee
our luminary in his stead, whose twin stars shall so outmimic day
that his brightness shall not be remembered. Truly am I in great
heaviness and sorrow, seeing that I cannot be with you in the
opening of the pageant, by reason of mine office, and my duty to
the king. Yet will I not leave you without a protector. My trusty
friend Weldon will enact your faithful knighte. He weareth a black
visard and mantle of spotted silver, and will accompany you to the
bower, from whence he delivereth the queene and her distressed
damsels out of durance. When the dancing begins, expect me.

"THINE."

Little space was left for deliberation. The bell rang out its signal for the actors to arrange themselves; hearing which, she thrust the billets behind her stomacher, and hastened to the great court, where, on a platform supported by four wheels, was builded a sort of hut, decorated in a tawdry and fanciful style, and yeleped "The Bower of Beautie."

Into this bower the queen was to be conducted, but the uproar and confusion was indescribable; strange and antic figures hurrying to and fro, seeking their companions, and crying lustily for their places. Sir John Finett and Sir George Goring fulfilled the office of whippers-in, attempting to establish order out of these undisciplined elements. Grace drew back; but suddenly there came forth an armed knight from the bower towards her, wearing a black visor and a mantle of spotted silver, courteously beseeching her that she would accompany him to her station. A great curtain of figured arras hung in front, concealing the interior, where the queen and her maidens were supposed to be held captive. Grace stepped into this temporary confinement, in which were four other ladies masked, who graciously saluted their queen. The black-faced visor having seated himself, the arras was again let down; when several men, bedizened with ribands and nosegays, wheeled off the vehicle to its destination on the green.

The bower was garnished with roses, gilliflowers, pinks, and odoriferous herbs. Garlands of artificial flowers were interspersed; likewise imitations in satin, silk, and gold, of various trees, herbs, and fruits, not to be found in those parts. All this had been accomplished with great pains by the ladies of the queen's mimic court, Sir John Finett superintending "_The Bower of Beautie_," as his peculiar province. To Sir George Goring were allotted the bears, satyrs, imps, angels, gods, and other like rabble, who were taught with much labour and difficulty, in so short a space, their several parts.

Sir John Finett had received a mandate to be near the king during the acts, that he might be instructed in their several uses and designs, Buckingham having signified his wish to sport a mask on the occasion; Sir John, therefore, much to his regret, was completely debarred from approaching his mistress.

The king's coming was announced by a flourish of trumpets, and a loud bray from the delighted multitude, who sent up a shout that shook the very foundations.

Under a pavilion of crimson cloth, decked with fringes and valences of gold, walked forth the monarch. He leaned familiarly on the arm of his host, who, together with Sir John Finett, was in immediate attendance. After the king's train had passed, came a troop of morris-dancers, and the hobby-horse, who frolicked in a most ungainly fashion round the Bower of Beautie, kissing hands, and making many salutations towards their enthralled queen. Next came out a bear and a lion, accompanied by a thing intended to represent an ape, whose office it was to torment these grave animals with his tricks. But so encumbered were they in their disguise,--a heavy covering of bucks' skins and long wool,--that they had much ado to keep on their clothes, while attempting to resent the indignities they endured.

"Hang thee, Will--keep thy paws off my tail," said lion: "Dost not see I shall be uncovered before the king?"

"I'll baste thine hide," said bear, "if thou meddlest any more with mine."

The ape had settled himself on the back of this august-looking animal, from whence he was suddenly dislodged, much to the delight and entertainment of the king, who laughed heartily at his disaster. The ravenous animals were on their way to the bower, there to watch for the captives, making great demonstrations all the while of their bloodthirsty intent.

Bear and lion accordingly squatted down before it, making as though they would gladly have been at supper on the fair carcases of those within. Anon comes a mighty magician, with a long beard, and a wand of some ells in extent, purposing to effect the deliverance of the captives; but the beasts rushed upon him, and in a trice brought him to the ground. At this juncture the Silver Knight--showing thereby the superiority of true valour over false gramarye--should have issued from the bower, rescued the magician, and slain the beasts, opening a way for the escape of these imprisoned damsels, who were to come forth dancing, and representing a fair masque before the king;--but the magician remained unrescued, while bear and lion lay growling for a long space, not knowing what else to do. They looked about wistfully, not choosing to feast on their prostrate victim. At last, finding no change in the posture of affairs, they fairly stood erect, much to the marvel and amusement of the spectators, running off on their hind legs amid the shouts and derision of the assembly.

Sir John, apprehending some mistake, left the king for a moment to see how matters stood; but Goring had lifted up the arras, and, lo! the knight with the black visor and mantle of silver was not there, neither was the Queen of Beauty in her bower. The four disconsolate maidens still sat waiting for their cue, and expecting release. This was an unlooked-for disaster. The pageant was at a stand. On inquiry, the maidens told how that the gallant knight and the peerless queen had departed before the king's arrival, saying they would return anon.

Sir John was bewildered and alarmed. The Silver Knight was trusty, and no suspicion crossed him from that source; yet was their absence wholly unaccountable. The king, seeing some mistake in the unravelling or conception of the plot, good-naturedly commanded the minstrels to strike up a favourite tune; at the hearing of which a number of masks immediately mustered to begin dancing in the soft and dewy twilight. Amongst the rest came in Buckingham, negligently attired, and without his visor.

"I thought thee hidden amongst the maskers," said the king.

"Ay, my liege, a short space;--but the night is hot, and I am something distempered and weary in this turmoil."

Buckingham looked flushed and agitated, strangely differing from his usual manner. It was not unobserved by the king, who attributed the change to illness.

"Thou shalt continue about our person," said the monarch. "Jack, see to the sports:--the pageant hath suffered greatly from thine absence. I do think the Queen of Beauty hath played thee false."

Buckingham took his usual station by the king; and Sir John Finett, in great dolour, went forth in search of his mistress. He questioned the guests diligently, but could gain no further tidings, save that she had been seen by many in company with the Silver Knight. Every minute added to his uneasiness: thoughts of a wild and terrible import haunted him. In vain he tried to shake off these intruders--they came like shadows, horrible and indistinct. His naturally sensitive and sanguine temperament, as prone to the anticipation of evil as of delight, was a curse, and not a blessing. Departed hopes may fling a deeper shadow even on the brow of Despair!--and rayless was the night which visited his spirit. It was now too evident--for he was no novice in the science--that his admiration had awakened one dormant but hallowed affection, long lulled in the soft lap of pleasure. The maiden, with whom it was his sole aim to pass a few hours of pleasantry and amusement, had enthralled him by so sudden a spell, that he was more than half inclined to believe in the boasted skill and exploits of the sex, which has rendered Lancashire so famous. Her unaccountable absence impressed itself strangely upon his thoughts. He was in love!--and he writhed at the discovery; but he would have given worlds just then to have proclaimed it at his mistress's feet.

Scarcely conscious how the night wore on, he was obliged to act his part. Supper was announced; and he took his station where he could see the guests unmask as they entered to the banquet.

The tables were nearly filled, but the Silver Knight and his fair lady were still absent. Grace Gerard is doubtless in her own chamber, was the host's reply to some inquiry from Sir John:--she had craved excuse from some slight indisposition. But this did not satisfy him to whom it was addressed: he suspected her chamber would be found unoccupied;--his heart felt wasted and desolate;--it was as if the whole fair face of nature were blotted out,--the light being gone which rendered it visible.

"What ho!" said the king, "bring my Sienna knight a cup of hot sack and a merry-thought, for he seems melancholic and watchful--a wary eye, but a silent tongue. Sir John, are your wits a wool-gathering with your queen?"

"I am in my widowhood, most gracious prince,--my queen having departed."

"More fool thou, to fling thy heart after thy wits. Come, honest Jack, we'll have some minstrelsy after the feast,--a merry troll and a short one."

Sir John was well skilled in handling the lute and rebeck. He had been early trained to their use; and many a kind glance and tender word he had won thereby.

The feast was over, and those hushed halls thrilled to the following ditty:--