& & & & & & & & & & 3COvO£ & FROM THE LIBRARY □ F <3L 3b Junn REF Ldp Hon Hone, William Ancient mysteries described OAT! REF For k \ reference Not To Be Taken From the Room DEMCO Date Due CAT. NO. 23 233 PRINTED IN U.S.A. When Friars, Montana „ tam'd to Hays, ffi^ttvafof ^“^ t ^ S S sS > erept, , Obey’d B ?J;®‘ s Smfng Church the People’s rod, 25? SfitoSS fOT a God - ANCIENT MYSTERIES DESCRIBED, ESPECIALLY THE Cuttgltsi) JWtracle $Iaps, POUNDED ON APOCRYPHAL NEW TESTAMENT STORY, EXTANT AMONG THE UNPUBLISHED MANUSCRIPTS IN THE BRITISH MUSEUM; INCLUDING NOTICES OP ECCLESIASTICAL SHOWS, THE FESTIVALS OF FOOLS AND ASSES— THE ENGLISH BOY-BISHOP THE DESCENT INTO HELL— THE LORD MAYOR’S SHOW THE GUILDHALL GIANTS— CHRISTMAS CAROLS, &c. By WILLIAM HONE. WITH ENGRAVINGS ON COPPER AND WOOD. “Is it possible the spells of Apociypha should juggle men into such strange Mysteries ?” Skdkspeare. LONDON : PRINTED FOR WILLIAM HONE, 45, LUDGATE HILL. 1823. Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2016 https://archive.org/details/ancientmysteries00hone_0 PREFACE. ♦- It is related of Johnson, by his pleasant biographer, that he said, 4 he loved the old black letter books ; they were rich in matter, though their style was in- elegant.’ Deeper read in our early writers, than the great moralist, an erudite antiquary of our own day * observes, that 4 with respect to what is often absurdly denominated black letter learning, the taste which pre vails in the present times for this sort of reading, wher- ever true scholarship and a laudable curiosity are found united, will afford the best reply to the hyper-criticisms and impotent sarcasms of those who, having from in- dolence or ignorance neglected to cultivate so rich a field of knowledge, exert the whole of their endea- vours to depreciate its value.’ The truth of this has been subsequently attested by the popularity of the author of Waverley, who, aided by antient lore, im- parts to his scenes and portrait s of other times the truth and high finish of Gerard Dow and Denner, and the dig- nity and grace of Titian and V an dyke. Need I apologize then for bringing together the results of certain desul- tory reading, intimately connected with that class of literature which is especially dear to me from accidental acquaintance with it in childhood, and stolen intimacies, Mr. Douce, in his Illustrations of Shakspeare, vol. i. pref. xi. I 11 PREFACE. during thirty years of a life spent in ‘ violating, step after step, the circumscription by which the aristo- cratic compasses were again and again, with reluctant extension to successive greater distances, defining the scope of the knowledge proper for a man of my con- dition. 7 * A memorable period in my humble existence is the occasion of the ensuing sheets. On the 19th of De- cember 1817, the late Lord Chief Justice Ellenborough observed, that ‘ the first scenic performances were Mysteries or representations of incidents in Sacred Writ. 7 The remark induced me, about three years ago, to inquire somewhat on this subject, ©nd in con- sequence of a perusal, accidentally simultaneous, of the religious Coventry Plays or Mysteries in the Bri- tish Museum, and certain of the Apocryphal Gospels, together with the possession of engravings by old masters, from scenes common to each, I hastily com- piled and published the volume entitled ‘ The Apo- cryphal New Testament. 7 Though my main purpose in producing it was, that for which I stated it to be of use, namely, to explain the subjects of pictures and prints that ‘ are without explanation from any other source, 7 f and notwithstanding I conceived that, so far as the Gospels were concerned, it would be regarded as a work of mere curiosity, yet it was dexterously construed into a cause of attack. The fierceness of the Quarterly in October 1821, roused me to answer the assailant, and I sent a sheet of reply to the press in the following month. To accompany it, but as a • Foster. t Apoc. N. Test. Preface , PREFACE. Ill distinct publication, the ensuing pages from 13 to 68 inclusive, were then actually printed off, and I re- ceived a proof from the printer of sixteen pages more to conclude the tract, when abridgment of my leisure, but, above all, the subsidence of my resentment into profound contempt for the flagitious frauds of the re- verend reviewer, and a conviction that those who were qualified to judge of his article would see its mendacity, determined me not to engage in polemics. Abandoning the proposed refutation, yet towards the close of last summer recollecting the portion of the Mysteries in the printer’s warehouse, I sat down, in- tending to complete my notices of these curious dramas in a few hours, and within the limits that I originally assigned to myself; the difficulty however of wholly relinquishing my pen, while, by fits and snatches, I could employ it agreeably, enlarged the proposed pamphlet to the present volume. Concerning the Coventry Mysteries , Dugdale relates, in his History of Warwickshire, published in 1656, that, ‘ Before the suppression of the monasteries this city was very famous for the pageants that were play’d therein, upon Corpus Christi Day (one of their ancient faires) which occasioning very great confluence of people thither from far and near, was of no small be- nefit thereto : which pageants being acted with mighty state and reverence by the Grey Friers, had theatres for the several scenes, very large and high, placed upon wheels, and drawn to all the eminent parts of the city, for the better advantage of spectators, and contain’d the story of the Old and New Testament, composed in the old Englishe rithme, as appeareth w PREFACE. by an ancient MS. (in Bibl. Cotton. Vesp. D. VIII.) intituled, Ludus Corporis Christi , or Ludus Coventries . I have been told/ says Dugdale, ‘ by some old people, who in their younger years were eye-witnesses of these pageants so acted, that the yearly confluence of people to see that shew was extraordinary great, and yielded no small advantage to this city.’* The celebrity of the performances may be inferred from the rank of the audiences; for, at the festival of Corpus Christi, in 1483, Richard III. visited Coventry to see the plays, and at the same season in 1492, they were at- tended by Henry VIL and his queen, by whom they were highly commended. While at the British Museum I made large extracts from the Coventry Manuscript mentioned by Dug- dale. It is remarkable, that in its entire series of forty mysteries there is not one from the Apocrypha to the Old Testament, whilst there are so many as eight that are paraphrases of the New Testament Apocrypha. Transcripts from these paraphrases com- pose the early part of the present publication. Some portions that are abridged would have been given entire, perhaps, had I consulted the MS. with a view to this use, but there is quite enough to show how largely the monkish playwright adopted the curious incidents, and the very language of the spurious Gos- pels — a circumstance alluded to in the Preface to the Apocryphal New Testament, and which operated in no small degree to the setting it forth. Concerning the scenery, machinery, dresses, and Dugdale’s Warwickshire, p. 116. PREFACE. V decorations, and indeed the stage management of these times, little is at present known.* Yet to what Dug- dale has said of the Coventry performances, and the*, notice from Drake’s History of York, of the representa- tions in that city,f may be added an account of those at Chester. The Mysteries acted there, also exist in the British Museum among the Harleian MSS. They are four and twenty in number, and were performed by the trading companies of the city. 1 Every company had his pagiante, or parte, which pagiantes were a highe scafolde with two rowmes, a higher and a lower upon 4 wheeles. In the lower they apparelled themselves, in the higher rowme they played, being all open on the tope, that all behoulders might heare and see them. The places where they played them was in every streete. They begane first at the Abay Gates, and when the pagiante was played, it was wneeled to the High Cross before the mayor, and so to every streete ; and so every streete had a pagiante playing before them, till all the pagiantes for the daye appointed were played, and when one pagiante was neere ended, worde was brought© from streete to streete, that soe the mighte come in place thereof, ex- cedinge orderlye, and all the streetes had their pa- giante afore them, all at one time, playing together, * Information on some of these points may be expected from a forthcoming work, by the gentleman mentioned (at p. 218.) as having favoured his friends with a bibliomaniacal edition of the Coventry Pageant of the Sheremen and Taylors. I take this opportunity of observing, that the MS. of this mystery is that gentleman’s property; it is erroneously represented hereafter as belonging to the corporation pf Coventry. f See p. 209 — 13. post. 2 VI PREFACE. to se which playes was great resorte, and also sca- foldes, and stages made in the streetes, in those places wheare they determined to playe their pagiantes.’* Respecting the multiform portion of this volume, denominated ‘ Illustrations / I have to offer in excuse that there is enough for good-natured readers to find something to be amused with, and nothing intended to offend those that I despair of pleasing. It is altogether ‘ skimble-skamble stuff/ which not aspiring to the character of an antiquarian treatise, may be allowed to deprecate antiquarian censure. There is little appearance of cohesion in the parts, and yet they scarcely require more than leisure to adapt and con- nect them according to the ‘ rules of the schools/ with a few other particulars, and make a book. The Boy-Bishop , for instance, whose processions at Nicho- las -tide, according to Strype, ‘ made the people so fond of keeping this holiday, that every parish almost had its St. Nicholas/ is associated with the Mys- teries, by the representations of these religious plays often taking place during his annual dignity. The Feast of Fools , and especially the Feast of the Ass , from their dramatic character, and celebration as ec- clesiastical performances, are equally admissible. To * Archdeacon Rogers’s MSS. Harl. 1948, quoted in Mr. Orme- rod’s History of Cheshire , (p. 296 — 302.) In that work there is a copious notice concerning the Chester Mysteries, which were per- formed for the last time in 1574. Mr. Ormerod’s information con- cerning Mysteries in general is abundantly curious and useful. A well written Article on the ‘ Early Drama,’ with a pleasant notice of Mysteries, is contained in that ably conducted Journal, the Retrospective Review , vol. i. PREFACE. * VII be sure I have trespassed a little in the articles on the Council of the Trinity , and the Brethren of the Trinity ivithout Alder sg ate ; but who, possessing a monkish legend in MS. or the chartulary of a dissolved fra- ternity, could withstand the temptation of ‘ hitching into print ' a quotation or two, on a colourable oppor- tunity. Li this, however, I acknowledge being in- fluenced by liking rather than judgment, and so in the article on the Descent into Hell . Reviewing my gossip on the word aroint , I confess that equity would compel me to dismiss it for impertinence. But it is printed, and its existence in these sheets is a lament- able proof of the 1 fearful estate 1 of him who mounts a hobby without a rein : though there is something like a shadow of excuse too, for saying a little on old Hearne’s plate as a Shakspearian authority. Concerning Christmas Carols , I have not put down a tenth of what I wished to find room for, nor so much as I think will weary one good hearted reader who remembers with what solemn pleasure he heard them sung in his childhood. The Pageants , though familiar to a few, will be new to more ; and as to the account of the Lord Mayor's Show , and the Giants of London , let that citizen, who constantly sees both, and knows little regarding the history of either, be angry if he can, for being informed of several curious particulars respecting each. Regarding the Giants, indeed, I formerly inquired too much and too long in vain, to suppose that a few pages, occupied in authenticating their origin, will be unwelcome to those who are ‘ merry in Guildhall , when beards wag all/ In toiling through books and MSS., not in expec- Yin PREFACE. tation, but with a bare hope of discovering a few facts respecting manners in the olden time, the mind glooms on the supposition that stores of information perished with the destruction of the religious houses in the reign of Henry VIII. He who 4 neither spared man in his rage, nor woman in his lust,’ spared not the literal collections in the libraries of the church. For though it appears that Henry directed a commission to Leland, the antiquary, to search for and preserve such works belonging to the dissolved monasteries and colleges as might rescue remarkable English events and occurrences from oblivion, and though Leland ac- quainted Henry that he had 4 conserved many good authors the which otherwise had bene lyke to have peryshed, to no smal incommodite of good letters ; of the which,’ he tells him, 4 part remayne in the most magnificent lybraryes of your royal palaces; part also remayne in my custodie ;’ yet he expressly recites, that one of his purposes was to expel 4 the crafty co- loured doctryne of a rowt of Romayne bysshopps;’ which too plainly indicates that he 4 conserved’ but little concerning ancient customs. Strype, who praises Henry’s commission to Leland, afterwards breaks out, saying, 4 But great pity it was, and a most irreparable loss, that notwithstanding this pro- vision, most of the ancient MS. histories and writings of learned British and Saxon authors were lost. Li- braries were sold by mercenary men for any thing they could get, in that confusion and devastation of religious houses. Bale, the antiquary, makes mention of a merchant that bought two noble libraries about these times for forty shillings; the books whereof PREFACE. IX served him for no other use but for waste paper; and that he had been ten years consuming them, and yet there remained still store enough for as many years more. Vast quantities and numbers of these books, banished with the monks and friars from their monasteries, were conveyed away and carried be- yond seas to booksellers there, by whole ship ladings ; and a great many more were used in shops and kit- chens/ It is not surprising then, that so little remains from those immense collections; or rather it is won- derful that so much should have escaped the general devastation. Yet, in the economy of the Reformation, the ruthless deed was, perhaps, an essential preparation for the mighty knowledge that submerged the super- stition of a thousand years. 1 The papal hierarchy, from accident, fanaticism, and policy, pursued too often a spurious plan of forcing mankind to become technical automatons of rites and dreams, words and superstitions; and supporting a system which, if not originally framed, was at least applied to inforce a long continued exertion of transferring the world into the hands of ecclesiastics, and too often superseding the Christianity of the Gospels by that of tradition, policy, half-delirious bigotry, feelings often fantastic, and unenlightened enthusiasm/ * Until the time of Luther, religion, which in principle is a pure science, was regarded as an art; it was the occupation of the clergy, who taught it as a mystery, and practised it as a trade. * Mr. Turner’s Hist. Ang. Saxons, vol. iii. p. 516 . 2 X PREFACE. From the manifold corruptions of religion resulted the gross practices and delusions which are noticed in the ensuing pages without comment ; for the work is a collection of facts, not of inferences. It commences with the Coventry Mysteries ; the passages from the Apocryphal Gospels, whereon the scenes are founded, being printed beneath. By referring to the Glossary for words that seem difficult, the perusal of the whole will be easy. It is proper to state that a literary gentleman of the Principality enabled me to mention Welsh Carols, and favoured me with the translation of the Welsh Wassail Carol for St. Mary’s Eve. To a bibliopolical friend I am indebted for the notice of the Castle of Good Preservance , which he saw in Dr. Macro’s col- lection. I should with equal readiness acknowledge other assistance, had I received it. Lastly, I am bound to confess the existence of a few errors, not affecting the sense, that were discovered too late for correction, though in sufficient time to enable me to affirm, as a warning to others, that the worst editor of an author’s writings is himself. Ludaate Hilly 5th Maijy 1823 . CONTENTS Jtflggtemg. Page I. The Birth of Mary 13 II. Mary’s Education in the Temple, and being served by Angels 20 III. The Miraculous Espousal of Joseph and Mary . . 27 IV. A Council of the Trinity and the Incarnation . . 38 V. Joseph’s Jealousy 46 VI. Visit of Mary to Elizabeth 53 VII. The Trial of Mary and Joseph 59 VIII. The Miraculous Birth and the Midwives .... 67 Jllitgtrattong antr gUJ&ttiong. I. Council of the Trinity 73 II. The Brethren of the Holy Trinity of St. Botolph without Aldersgate 77 III. Christmas Carols . 90 IV. Engravings of Apocryphal New Testament Subjects 107 V. The Descent into Hell 120 VI. Hearne’s Print of the Descent into Hell .... 138 VII. Origin of Mysteries — Feast of Fools — Feast of the Ass, &c 148 VIII. The Boy Bishop — English Mysteries 193 IX. Pageants 232 X. Lord Mayor’s Show 246 XI. The Giants in Guildhall 263 Addenda ........ 277 Glossary ...... . 289 Index . ...... 293 ORDER OF THE ENGRAVINGS, i. Fool .... , . to face the Title. 2. Hearne’s Descent into Hell • . page 138 3. Giants in Guildhall ^ a 262 4. Fools’ Morris Dance • • . . 270 5. Triangular Candle . • 78 6. Triune Head • • 86 7. 8. 1 j- Impressions from two Christmas Carol Blocks . 100 9. 1 101 10. J 11. Tail-piece .. * 142 12. St. Nicholas’s Miracle . * - 1^3 13. Boy Bishop « * * m 13 MYSTERY I. IN COTTON MS PAGE AN! V{IJ* THE BIRTH OF MARY. A he Play commences with the speaking of a Pro - bgue , beginning thus : Cryste conserve this congregation, Fro’ perellys past, p’sent, and futur, And the p’so’nys her’ pleand. * * * * * And that non oblocucyon, make this mat’er obsc’ure, But it may p’fite and plese, eche p’son p’sent. From the gynnynge, to the endynge, so to endure, That cryst, and every creatur’, with the conceyte be content, The Prologue proceeds to relate, that the 4 mat’er a is of the modyr of mercy/ In fewe wurdys talkyd, that it shulde nat be ted’yous To ne lernyd, nyn to lewd, nyn to no man of reson; This is the p’cesse : — Now p’serve you Jh’us ; Th’for of this I yow pray, all that ben her’ present, And tak hed to our talkyn, what we shal say : I be teche yow, that lorde that is evyr omnypotent, To governe yow in goodnes, as he best may, In hevyn we may hym se. 3 14 Now god, that is hevyn kynge, Send us all hese der’ blyssynge ; And to his tow’r he mote vs brynge : Amen, ffor charyte. 4 Ysaker,* the high priest, announces the festival, when all must repair to Jerusalem to sacrifice. ‘Joakim’ enters with Anne his wife, ( a ) and calls himself 4 a substancyall man,’ says he divides his goods into three parts, one to the temple, another to the 4 pylg’mys,’ the third for his own houshould ; and concludes his speech by observing, that So shulde every curat, in this werde wyde, Geve a part to his channcel, I wys ; A part to his parocheners, that to povert slyde ; The thyrd part to kepe, for hy’ & his.( b ) Joachim tells Anne that he dreads to sacrifice, for Be cawse that no frute of vs doth p’cede, l fere me grettly the prest wole me dysspice ; Than grett slawndyr in the tribus of vs shulde aryse: But this I avow to God, with all the mekenes I can, [ Passages paralleled ; from the Apocryphal New Testament. (*) Mary, i. — 1. The blessed and ever glorious Virgin Mary, sprung from the royal race and family of David, was born in the city of Nazareth, and educated at Jerusalem, in the temple of the Lord. 2. Her father’s name was Joachim, and her mother’s Anna. The family of her father was of Galilee and the city of Nazareth The family of her mother was of Bethlehem. ( b ) 3. Their lives were plain and right in the sight of the Lord, pious and faultless before men. For they divided all their substance into three parts. 4. One of which they dovnted to the temple and officers of the temple ; an- other they distributed among stran- gers, and persons in poor circum- stances? and the third they reserved for themselves and the uses of their own family. 7. And it came to pass, that when the feast of the dedication drew near, Joachim, with some others of his tribe, w r ent up to Jerusalem, and, at that time, Issachar was high-priest. 15 Gyff, of his mercy, he wole a chylde vs devyse, We shal offre it vp, i’to the temple, to be goddys man. ( a ) Anne declares that his words bring tea-res down her face, and endeavours to console her husband with I wys swete husband the fawte is mine. Corresponding in sentiment with him, she vows that if 4 God send frute, and it be a mayde childe/ she shall be a 4 foot mayd to mynyster’ in the temple, and salutes Joachim, saying, Thryes I kysse you, with syghys full sad. They inform Issachar they are come to 4 sacrife.’ Then follows this direction to the actors. Here they shal synge theis seg'no , B’n’dicta SIT “ B’a Teinitas. And V that time ysakar, with his “ masters* ensensyth the auter ; Sr then thei make her “ofnjgn Issachar invites all present to come up and offer, but he tells Joachim and Anne to stay where they are, that they 4 arn barrany and bare;’ inquires how they durst presume among fruitful persons; that it is a token they are cursed ; and finally, he rejects their offerings, and charges Joachim to go fast out of the teinple.( b ) Next is sung PATER ^ et FILIUS et sp’us s*c’us. Chor. Amen. [Passages paralleled ; ft ( a )MARY, i. — 5. In this manner they lived for about twenty years chastely, in the favour of God, and the esteem of men, without any children. 6. But they vowed, if God should favour them with any issue, they would devote it to the service of the Lord; rom the Apoc. N. Test.'] on which account they went at every feast in the year to the temple of the Lord. ( b ) 8. Who, when he saw Joachim along with the rest of his neighbours, bringing his offerings, despised both him and his offerings, and asked him, 16 Issachar blesses the people in these words : — Now, of god & man, blessya be ye alle. Homward agen now returne ye ; And in this temple abyde we shalle, To servyn god in trinyte. Joachim, greatly laments his disgrace : — Now wyl I go to my shepherdys, and with hem abyde ; & th’r evyr mor, levyn in sor’we, & in drede : Shame makyth many man his hed for to hyde.( a ) He salutes the shepherds with 4 Ha how do ye, felas — how far ye & my bestys ? They answer, * they be lusty fayr, § grettly multyply — how do ye, mayster?’ This answer touches a sore place — lie tells them to do what they list, and see their 4 bestys not stray/ Praying to God in great bitterness, he says of himself, What am I ? wretche ! — worse than an hownde. Anne also prays, and expostulates with God : — Why do ye thus to my’husbond, lord ; why ? why ? why ? for my barynes he may amend this y’self, aud thou lyste, to mor’we. \_Her the Aungel descendith the hefne, syngyng Exultet.] [Passages paralleled ; ft 9. Why he, who had no children, would presume to appear among those who had ? Adding, that his offerings could never be acceptable to God, who was judged by him unworthy to have children ; the Scripture having said, Cursed is every one who shall not be- get a male in Israel. 10. He further said, that he ought first to be free from that curse by be- getting some issue, and then come with •om the Apoc. N. Test.] his offerings into the presence of God. ( 3 )Mary, i. — 11. But Joachim being much confounded with the shame cf such reproach, retired to the shepherds who were with the cattle in their pas- tures ; 12. For he was not inclined to re- i turn home, lest his neighbours, who were present and heard all this from the high-priest, should publicly re- proach him in the same manner. 17 The Angel acquaints Joachim, that God, by making barrenness, shews “ his myth & his mercye bothe;( ) reminds him that Sarah was ninety years barren and bore Isaac ;( b ) that barren Rachel bore Joseph, that of Egypt was kynge, (°) A stronger, than Sampson ; that Samuel’s mother was barren, till she bore him ;( 4 ) And, in the lyke wyse, Anne, thy blyssyd wyff, Sche shal her’ a childe, sehal hygth Mary, (°) Whic’h shall be blyssyd in her body, and have joys ffyff, be full of the holy ghost, inspired, and offered in the temple, ( f ) [Passages paralleled ; from the Apoc. N. Test.] ( a ) Mary, ii. — 1. But when he had been there for some time, on a certain day when he was alone, the angel of the Lord stood by him with a prodi- gious light, 2. To whom, being troubled at the appearance, the angel who had appear- ed to him, endeavouring to compose him, said ; 3. Be not afraid, Joachim, nor trou- bled at the sight of me, for I am an angel of the Lord sent by him to you, that I might inform you, that your prayers are heard, and your alms as- cended in the sight of God. 4. For he hath surely seen your shame, and heard you unjustly re- proached for not having children ; for God is the avenger of sin, and not of nature ; 5. And so when he shuts the womb of any person • he does it for this rea- son, that he may in a more wonderful manner again open it, and that which is born appear to be not the product of lust, but the gift of God. ( b ) 6. For the first mother of your nation Sarah, was she not barren even till her eightieth year : And yet even in the end of her old age brought forth Isaac, in whom the promise was made of a blessing of all nations. ( c ) 7. Rachel also, so much in favour with God, and beloved so much by holy Jacob, continued barren for a long time, yet afterwards was the mo- ther of Joseph, who was not only go- vernor of Egypt, but delivered many nations from perishing with hunger. ( d ) 8, Who, among the judges, was m >re valiant than Sampson, or more holy than Samuel ? And yet both their mothers were barren. ( e ) 9. But if reason will not convince you of the truth of my words, that there are frequent conceptions in ad- vanced years, and that those who were barren have brought forth to their great surprise ; therefore Anna your wife shall bring you a daughter, and you shall call her name Mary; ( f ) 10. She shall, according to your vow, be devoted to the Lord from her infancy, and be filled with the Holy Ghost from her mother’s womb ; 11. She shall neither eat nor drink IS And as sche sc’hal be bor’ of a barrany body, So, of her, schal be bor’, with out natur’, J’hus, That schal be savyo, vnto al man kende, ( a ) 4 In tokyn * he prophesies to Joachim, that he shall meet Anne at the gylded gate of Jerusalem. ( b ) Joachim takes his leave of the shepherds, who being glad to see his spirits revive, say, We schal make vs so mery, now this is be stad, That, a myle on yo’ way, ye schal her’ vs synge. The Angel appears to Anne, tells her that God hath heard her prayers, that she shall meet her hus- band at the ‘ goldyn gate/ and conceive, and bear a child, whose destiny he foretels, ( c ) and Anne re- joices, [ Her go'th the Aungel agen to he/ne.~\ [Passages paralleled ; from the Apoc. N. Test.] any thing which is unclean, nor 6hall her conversation be without among the common people, but in the temple of the Lord; that so she may not fall un- der any slander or suspicion of what is bad. ( a ) Mary, ii. — 12. So in the process of her years, as she shall be in a mira- culous manner born of one that, was barren, so she shall, while yet a virgin, in a way unparalleled, bring forth the Son of the most High God, who shall be called Jesus, and, according to the signification of his name, be the Sa- viour of all nations. ( b ) 13. And this shall be a sign to you of t e things which I declare, namely, when you come to the golden gate of Jerusalem, you shall there meet your wife Anna, who being very much troubled that you returned no sooner, shall then rejoice to see you. ( c ) iii. — 1. Afterwards the angel ap- peared to Anna his wife, saying: Fear not, neither think that which you see is a spirit ; 2. For I am that angel who hath offered up your prayers and alms be- fore God, and am now sent to you, that I may inform you, that a daughter will be bora unto you, who shall be called Mary, and shall be blessed above all women. 6. Arise therefore, and go up to Je- rusalem, and when you shall come to that which is called the golden gate (because it is gilt with gold), as a sign of what I have told you, you shall meet your husband, for whose safety you have been so much concerned. 19 Joachim and Anne meet in great joy, and he gives her a ‘kusse of clennesse.’( a ) The drama concludes with an intimation that it is their intention to go home, To thank god, that sytt in tron’, That thus hath sent us his grace. [Passages paralleled ; from the Apoc. N. Test.] ( a ). Mary, lii. — 8. According therefore to the command of the an- gel, both of them left the places where they were, and when they came to die place speciiied in the angel’s pre- , diction, they met each other. 11. So Annaconceived,andbrought forth a daughter, and, according to the angel’s command, the parents did call her name Mary. MYSTERY II IN COTTON MS. PAGEANT IX. MARY’S EDUCATION IN THE TEMPLE, AND BEING SERVED BY ANGELS. The Play opens by Contemplation speaking a Pro- logue beginning Sovereynes ; ye have sen shewyd you befor’, Of Joachym & Anne, both ther’e holy metynge ; How o’ lady was conseyved, and how she was bor’ ; We passe ovyr that— breffness of tvme consyderynge. The Prologue announces the entrance of Mary, and how as a childe of iij yer’ age, her’ she schal apper, That holy mater we wole declare, Tyl ffortene yer’, how sche did far’ : Now of yon’ speche I pray yow spar, All that ben in this place. [Her Joachym and Anne , with our lady he twen hem, heyng cd in whyte , as a childe of iij yer ’ age, presente her ’ in to the temple j thus seyng Joachym.lfj] [Passages paralleled ; from the Apoc. N. Test.] (») Mary, iv. — 1. And when three I the Virgin to the temple of the Lord r ears were expired, and the time of with offerings, ter weaning complete, they brought | 21 Joachim exclaims ‘Blyssyd be our lord, ffayr ffrute have we now/ and he reminds his wife of their vow : — The age of Mary, our dowter, is yers three, Th’for , j to thae p’sonys and on god, lete vs her p’sent. Anne assents, and says to Mary, Dowter, the aungel (told) us ye shoulde be a qwen ; Woll ye go se that lord yo’ husbond schal ben ; & lerne for to love hym ; and lede w’t hy’ yo’ lyff ? Telle yo’ ffadyr & me her, yo’ Answer let sen, Wole ye be pur’ maydy’, & also goddys wyff ? Mary answers, that as her father and mother have vowed, so ssothly wow I To be goddys chast seruaunt, whil lyff is mine ; But to be goddys wyff I was never wurthy. I am the sympelest that ever was born of body ; I haue herd you sey’d god schulde haue a modyr swete, That I may leve to se hir’, god graunt me, for his mercy, & abyl me to ley my handys vndyr hir’ fayr fete. [Et genuflected ad deum.\ Joachim encourages Mary by observing, I wys dowter it is wel seyd Ye answer & ye wer’ twenty yer’ olde. Joachim and Anne go to Issachar, and Joachim addresses him thus : Her’ p’nce of Prestes, & it plese you. We, that wer’ barryn, god hath sent a childe, To offre her to goddys service we made our’ a vow : Her’ is the same mayde, mary most mylde. 4 22 Issachar tells Joachim he recollects that he re- proacned them, hut he rejoices they are now among the fruitful ; and he compliments Mary with Ye have a gracyous face. Joachim, then bowing with great reverence, says that to ffadyr, & son, & holy gost, On god, & p’sonys thre, he offers Mary to be a servant for ever. Anne encourages Mary to go up to the 4 Pre’st.’ She asks their blessing: in answer to which Joseph says, 4 In nomine patris fy filii sp'ris s’c'i, whereto Mary answers, 4 Amen ; now ye good modyr’ : Anne repeats 4 In nomine , &c.’ Mary thanks them, and intreats forgiveness if ever she offended them [Et explexendo osculabit pWem w Ther’ ben sefne prestys in dede, To schryve, to teche, and to mynystryn to the ; To leme the goddys lawys, and scryptnr’ to rede. Mary. — Fadyr, knew I her’ namys well wer’ I. Ep'us. — Ther is Dyscressyon, Devoc’on, Dylexc’on, and De- liberac’on. They schall tende upon you besyly, W’t Declarac’on, Determynac’on, Dyvynac’on, Now go ye maydenys, to yo’r occupac’on; And loke ye tende this childe tendyrly, & ye, serys, knelyth, & I schall gyve yow goddy’s benyson. In no’ne pr’is & file: & sp’us s’ci. [Et recedent cu' ministris suis v’es mrgines dicent. Amen.] Joachim and Anne leave Mary, who says to her maidens, Syster’, ye may go do what ye schal To serve God ; fyrst her’ is al my thought ; Befom this holy awter’ on my knes I fall. She prays for obedience and suitable virtues, Her the aungel bryngyth manna, in a covyp of gold, lyhe to confecc'ons j the hefne syngynge : the a'ngel seyth Merueyle not, mekest mayd’on, of my mynystracon; I am a good Aungel, sent of god All myght. W’t angelys mete, for yo’r sustentac’on : Ye to receyve it; ffor natural myght, We aungellys schul serve yow, day and nyght. Now fede yow th’ with, in goddys name *, We schal leme yow the lyberary of our’ lordys lawe lyght, For my sawys in yow, shewyth synges of shame. Mary, accepting the food, * Serves, 25 All man’er of savowrs in this mete I fynde ; I felt nevyr none so swete, ner so redolent (*) The Angels acquaints her that, at 1 alle howrys, angels shall attend on her. Mary is greatly astonished, and she is thus allite- ratively addressed by the Angel In yo’r name, Maria, ffyve letterys we han : — — Mayde, most mercyfull, & mekest i’ mende ; — Auerte of the Anguysch, that Adam began ; — Regina, of Regyon, reyDeynge w’t owty’ ende ; — Innocent, be Influens of Jesse’s kende ; — Adoncat, most antentyk, yo’r Antecer Anna, Hefne & helle her’ kneys down bende, Whan this holy name of yow is seyd Maria. Maria . — I qwake grettly, for dred, her’ this com’endac'on ; Good swete Aungel why wole y<> sey thus ? Aungell.— For ye schal, herafter, have a salutac’on That schall this excede : it is seyde, amonge vs, The deyte that dede shall determyn, & dyseris ; Ye schal nevyr, lady, be lefte here a lone. Mary.— I crye ye mercy lorde and thin’ erthe cus; Recommendynge me to that godhyd, that is tryne, i’ tro’ne. His osculet terra’. Her ' schal corny n, alwey , an Aungel , w’t dyvers p’sents, goynge and comyng, & in the tyme thei schal synge, in hefne, this hy'pne J’hu corona Yirginii. And, aft ’ that, corny th a mi' si, fro the husschop, w’t a p’s’ et. [• Passages paralleled ; jrom the Apoc. N. Test.] ( ) Mary, v. 1. But the virgin of j 2. For she every day had the con- the Lord, as she advanced in years, versation of angels, and every day re- increased also in perfections, and ac- ceived visions from God, which pre- cording to the saying of the Psalmist, served her from all sorts of evil, and her father and mother forsook her, but caused her to abound with all good the Lord took care of her. things. 26 Mary receives the refreshment with thanks, but gives it to her maidens, requiring them to bestow what they leave on ‘ po’r folk faryn god.’ Contemplation speaks the following Epilogue . Lo ! sofreynes, her ye have seyn*, In the temple, of our ladyes presentation ; She was nevyr occapyed in tliyngs veyn, But evyr besy in holy oceupacyon. And we be seche yow, of your pacyens, That we pace these matters so lythly away ; If thei shulde be do with good prevydens, Eche on wolde suffyce for an hoole day. Now schal we p’cede to her dissponsac’on, Which, after this, was xiiij ye’r ; Tyme sufficyth not to make pawsac’on. Hath pacyens w’t vs, we be sech yow her' ; And, in short spas, The parlement of hefne sone schal ye se, & how goddys son com’ man schal be. And how the salutac’on after’ schal be, Be goddys holy gras. 27 MYSTERY III. THE MIRACULOUS ESPOUSAL OF MARY AND JOSEPH. Issachar, the ‘Busshopp,’ enters, and requests at- tention from the audience in an address beginning Lystenyth Lordyngs both hye and lowe. He says, 4 The lawe of god byddyth this sawe’ That at xiiij yer’ of age Every damesel what so sche be To the encrease of mor’ plente Shulde be browght in good degr’ On to her spowsage. ( a ) Joachim and Anne bring Mary to Issachar, who, supposing she is come to choose a ‘spowse, 1 wel- comes her. Mary says that she is not against the law, but that she will 4 levyn evyr in chasty te. ’ [Passage paralleled ; from the Apoc. N. Test.] ( a ) Mary, v. — 4. At that time the high-priest made a public order, That all the virgins who had public settle- ments in the temple, and were come to this age, should return home, and, as they were now of a proper matu- rity, should, according to the custom of their country, endeavour to be mar- ried. 28 Issachar inquires why she will c not to weddyng go? Mary relates that her father and mother J were bothe baryn;’ that Bycause they hadde nothyr frute nor chylde. Iteprevyd thei wer’ of wykkyd and wylde ; that they vow’d, if they had a child, it should be de- dicated to the service of God ; — He herd her longe p’y’s, & than sent hem both seed and flow’r ; Whan I was born in her bow’r To the temple offryd I was ; and dedicated to chastity. ( a ) Issachar declares that the law is express, that all maydens should go to the spowsing ; that her Parents are not to blame for vowing, in their barren- ness, to dedicate their ‘ frute that to make a vow to God is lawful by scripture, and to observe the law also is needful; and he beseeches the advice of the Priests. A Priest advises that they all pray to God directly, and that they shall begin Veni creator sp'us. [And whan veni creat' is doin } the buschop shal sei/ng Now LORD GOD OF LORDYS WHYSEST OF All &C.’] [Passages paralleled ; from the Apoc. N. Test.] ( a ) Mary, v. — 5. To which com- mand, though all the other virgins readily yielded obedience, Mary the Virgin of the Lord alone answered, that she could not comply with it. 6. Assigning these reasons, that both she and her parents had devoted her to the service of the Lord ; and besides, that she had vowed virginity to the Lord, which vow she was resolved never to break through by lying with man. 29 He then prays to 'the lorde, knelynge on hue/ for a solution of this ‘ dowtelul dowte.’ (*) An Angel appears and acquaints the Bishop that his prayer ‘is herd to hyg hevyn halle;’ that Hod nath sent him to tell him what to do in the dilemma ; and he desires the Bishop to Take tent, & undyrstond, This is goddys owyn byddyng, That all kynsmen of Dauyd the kyng, To the temple shul brynge, her’ an offryng, W’t whyte yardys in their honde. Loke wele what tyme thei offer’ ther’, All her’ yardys in their hand then take ; Take hede whose yerde doth blome and ber’, And he shal (be) the maydenys make.( b ) [Passages paralleled ; from the Apoc. N. Test.] ( a ) Mary, v. — 7. The high-priest being hereby brought into a difficulty, S. Seeing he durst neither on the one hand dissolve the vow, and disobey the Scripture, which says, Vow and pay. 9. Nor on the other hand introduce a custom, to which the people were strangers, commanded 10. That at the approaching feast all the principal persons both of Jerusalem and the neighbouring places should meet together, that he might have their advice, how he had best proceed in so difficult a case. 11. When they were accordingly met, they unanimously agreed to seek the Lord, and ask counsel from him on this matter. 12. And when they were all engaged in prayer, the high priest, according to the usual way, went to consult God, 13. And immediately there was a Voice from the ark and the mercy - seat, which all present heard, that it **nst ho inniiired or sought out by a I prophecy of Isaiah, to whom the Vir- I gin should be given and be betrothed ; 44. Forlsaiahsaith, there shall come forth a rod out of the stem of Jesse, and a flower shall spring out of its root, 15. And the Spirit of the Lord shall rest upon him, the Spirit of Wisdom and Understanding, the Spirit of Coun- sel and Might, the Spirit of Know- ledge and Piety, and the Spirit of the fear of the Lord shall fill him. 16. Then, according to this pro- phecy, he appointed, that all the men of the house and family of David, whc were marriageable, and not married, should bring their several rods to th altar, ( b ) 17. And out of whatsoever person's rod after it was brought, a flower should bud forth, and on the top of it the Spirit of the Lord should sit in the appearance of a dove, he should be the man to whom the Virgin should be given and be betrothed. 30 The Bishop s orders ‘ Proclamacion ’ to be mad*? accordingly, and Joseph, hearing the announcement, says In gret labor’, my lyff I ledc, Myn’ ocupasy’on lyth in many place, For ffebylnesse of age my Jorney I may not spede, I thank the, gret god’, of thi grace. Joseph lies down on the ground from weariness md exclaims. Age and febylnesse doth me embras, That I may nother well goe ne stond. Proclamation is made that Mary is to be married to one of the house of David, who are required to appear before the Bishop: He is waiting for them he Officer says, and He byddyth y ow, ferthermor’, in handys that ye hent, A fayr white verde, every’ch, of yow ye bryng. Joseph . — Bcnedicite ! I cannot vnder stande, What our p’nce of prests doth men, That every man shuld come and brynge with hy’ a whande, Abyl to be maryed that is : Not I ! — So ! — Mote I then ? I have be’ maydon evyr, and evyr mor’ wele ben I chaungyd not yet, of all my long lyff, & now to be maryed ! s’n man wold wene, It is a straunge thynge, an old man to take a yonge wyff! But, nevvr the lesse, no doute, of we must, forth to towne. Now neybors & kynnysmen lete us forth go: I shal take a wand in my hand, and cast of my gowne, Yf 1 falle, then I shalle, gronyn for wo. 31 Ho so take away my staff, I say he wer’ my fo ; Ye be men that may wel ren, go ye be for ; I am old, & also colde, walkyng doth me wo ; Th’rfore now, wole I so, my staff holde, I thisjurny to wor\ The Bishop explains to the men of the house of David the cause of his assembling them, and why each was commanded to bear a wand All yo’ roddys ye shal brynge vp to me, &, on hese rodde, that the holy gost is syttynge, lie shal the husbonde of this may be. [Hie portent v gas] Joseph . — It shal not be, I ley a grotte I shal a byde behynde p’uyly. Now wolde God I wer’ at hom, in my cote ; f am a schamyd to be seyn, verylv. Several make their offering. The last man desires Joseph to bring up his offering; accuses him of arrying behind, and says, ‘ Com on man; for shame !’ Joseph. — Com? ya ! ya ! god help, full fayn I wolde, But I am so agyd, and so olde. That both my legs gyn to folde j I am ny almost lame.* The Bishop says he can 1 no svgne a spy,’ and proposes to go to prayer again (f), to which it is an- swered, that i Passages paralleled ; from the Apoc. N. Test.J (*) Mary, vi. — I. Among the rest Jhere was a man named Joseph, of the nouse and family of David, and a per- son very far advanced in years, who drew back his rod, when every one be- sides presented his. t 2. So that when nothing appeared agrf~able to the heavenly voice, the high-priest judged it proper to consult God again. 32 He brought not up his rodde trewly. To whom the mayd howyth to be maryed her.* * Ep’us. — Whath, J oseph ! why stande ye ther* by hynde ? I wis, ser, ye be to blame. Joseph. — Ser, 1 kan not my rodde fynde, To come th’r in trowth me thynkyht shame. [Ep’us comyth thens .] Ep’us . — Offyr up yo’ rodde, ser, in goddys name ; Why do ye not as men yow pray ? Joseph. — Ser, he may euyl go that is ner lame j In soth I com’ as fast as I may. Joseph, when he presents his rod, prays to be ac- quitted of sin: laments that he can scarcely lift his hands : and, on a sudden, exclaims with astonish- ment, Lo ! lo ! lo ! what se ye now ? Ep’us .— A mercy ! mercy ! mercy ! lord, we crye ! The blyssyd of god we see art thou ! [& clamat o’ es m’cy m*cy<\ A gracyous god, in hevyn trone ! Ryht wundyrful thi werkys be. Her’ may we se a merveyl one, A ded stok beryth flours ffre. Joseph, in hert, with outen mone, Thou mayst be blyth, with game & gle, A mayd to w'edde, thou must ’gone. Be this meracle I do wel se Mary is her’ name. [Passages paralleled j from the Apoc. N. Test.) (*) Mary, vi.— 3. Who answered, who were brought together, who had .hat he to whom the Virgin was to be not brought his rod. Di trothed was the only p< rsoit o * *S>ose 4. Joseph therefore wa»> betrayed. Joseph. — What ! sbuld I wedde ? god forbede! I am an old man, so god me spede, & with a wyff, now to levyn in drede. It wor’ neyther sport ner game. Ep’us . — Agens God, Joseph, thou mayst not stryvo; God wyl’ that thou a wyff haue. This fayr mayde shal be thi’ wyve; She is buxum, and whyte as laue. Joseph . — A ! shuld I have her’ ye lese my lyff. Alas ! der god, shuld I now rave P An old man may nevyr thryff With a yonge wyff ; so God me saue ! Nay, nay, ser’ iett bene ; Shuld I now, in age, beg’y’ne to dote. If I her chyde, she wolde clowte my cote. Bier' my (ey’) & pyke out a mote, & thus oftyn tymes it is sene. The Bishop tells Joseph that God hath assigned Mary to him, and will not be opposed. Joseph assents, and, turning to the Virgin, says, But, fayr maydon, I thee p’y, Kepe thee clene as I shal me, I am a man of age ; Therfor’ ser busshop, I wyl, that ye wete That in bedde we shuld nevy r mete ; ffor 1 wys, mayden swete, An old man may not rage. Ep'us . — This holyest virgyn shalt thou maryn now; Your rodde floreschyth fayrest, that man may se, [& hi* cate't. B'n'd'c'a sit b' a t’nitasj 34 The hole gost we se, syttyht on a bow ; * * Now yeld we all preysing to the trenyte. IT J ose ph ; wele ye have this maydon to yo’ wyff ? & her’ hono’, & kepe, as ye howe to do ? Joseph. — Nay ser, so mote I thryff, I haue ryght no nede therto. Ep'us.— J oseph 5 it is goddys wyl it shuld be so ; Sey after me, as it is skyl. Joseph. — Here, and to p’ forme his wyl, I bow thereto, ffor all thinge owyght to ben at his wyl. Ep'us fy ide Joseph. Sey thou after me : — Her I take thee Mary to wyff. To hauy’ to holdyn, as God his wyll with ws will make, & as long as be thwyn us, leftyght our’ lyfF, To loue yow as myselff, my trewth I you take. Mine ad Mariam sic dicens. Ep'us. — Mary ; wole ye haue this man, And hym to kepyn, as yo’ lyff P Marta. — In the tenderest wyse, fadyr, as I kan, & with all my wyttys ffyff. Ep'us. — Joseph; with this rvnge now wedde thi wyff, & be her hand, now, thou her’ take. Joseph. — Ser, with this rynge, I wedde her ryff, & take her’ now her’, for my make. Ep'us. — Mary, mayd, with outyn mor’ stryff, On to thi spowse, thou hast hym take, (f ) Maria. — In chastyte, to leden my lyff, I shal hym nevyr for sake, [Passages paralleled j from the Apoc. N. Test.] * Mary, vi.— 5. For, when he did t 6. Accordingly, the usual cere- bting his rod, and a dove coming from monies of betrothing being over, he Heaven pitched upon the top of it, returned to his own city of Bethlehem, every one plainly saw, that the Virgin to set his house in order, and make was to be betrothed to him : the needful provisions forthe marriage. 35 But evyr with him a byde ; And, jentyll spowse, as ye an seyd, lete me levyn as a clene mayd, I schal be trewe, be not dysmayd, Both terme, time, and tyde. Ep'us. — Her’ is the holyest mat’remony, that evyr was, ki this werde : The hyg names of our lord we wole now syng hy, We all wole this solempn dede record Devowtly. [Alma chorus d'ni nne pangat no'Va. summ\ J Now goth horn all, in goddys name, Wher as yo’ wonying was betor : Madenys, to lete her go a lone it wor’ shame, It wold hevy you’ herts sor’ ; Ye schal blysse the tyme that sche was bor’ Now look at horn her brynge. Maria . — To have you' blyssvng ffadyr I falle yow be for’. Ep'us. — He blesse yow that hath non hendyng ; In no'i'e p'ris andfilii and sp'us s'ci. Ep'us. — Joseph ; thi selph art old of age. And the wyff of age is yonge, &, as we redyn, in old sage, Many man is sclepyr of tonge ; Therfor, euyl langage for to swage, That yo’ good fame may leste longe, iij damysellys schul dwelle with yow i’ stage. With thi wyff, to be evyr mor a monge, & schal these iij her take : Susanne, the fyrst, schal be ; "Rebecca, the secunde, schal go with the ; Sephor’ the thrydde. Loke that, ye thre. This mayd^n nevyi ye for sake. The ‘ maydenys’ declare their readiness to go. Marj entreats, and obtains, the blessing of her parents, and Anne says to her, I pray to God tnee save ; pray thee, mary ray swete chylde Be lowe, & buxhurn, meke, and mylde, Sad, & sobyr, & nothyng wvlde, & goddys blyssynge thou haue. Joseph tells Mary that his kindred will go home before her ; that not being rich, he has no house, and he wishes her to abide there, and worship god ; Mary assents, determining to sey the holy Psalme of Dauyth, Which book is clepyd the sawter’. Joseph having departed, Mary appears, saying, I haue seyd sum of my sawter, and her I am. At this holy psalme in dede, B'n' dixisti ditce' terram tuam : In this holy labor, lord me speae. When Joseph returns, he addresses her with — Mary wyff, & mayd, most gracyous : Displese yow not, I pray yow, so long I haue be I have hyryd for us a lytyl praty hous, & ther in, ryght hesely, levyn wole we. He invites her, and her maidens, to follow, and says, I must gon owth hens fer ye' fro, I wyll go laboryn, in fer co’ntre, (* \ With trewth, to maynteyn our housholde so. [Passages paralleled ,* from the Apoc. N. Test.] (* Protevan. viii. — 16. I must go to mind my trade of buildin 37 This ix monthis thou seyst me nowth Kepe the clene, my jentyl spowse, & all thi maydenys thi hows©, That evyl langage I her not rows©, For hese love that all hath wrought. Mary prays God to speed him, and concludes, with Gracyous God, my mayden hed eauo Euyr clene, in chastyta. 38 MYSTERY IV. IN COTTON MS. PAOXAHT XI. A COUNCIL OF THE TRINITY AND THE INCARNATION. Contemplation begins the Flat with a Prologue , Fowr thowsand, sex vndryd, four yer, I telle, Man for his offens, & fowle foly, Hath leyn yer’, in the peynes of helle, And wer’ wurthy to ly’, there in, endlesly, But thanne shuld perysche thi grete mercye. ****** Wolde God thou wouldyst (leave) thi hefne myghty, & com down her’ in to erth, & levyn yers thre & threttye, tliyn famy’t folke, with thi fode, to feae. To staunehe thi thryste, lete thi syde blede. ffor erste, wole not be made redemp’c’on, Virtutes . — The Aungel, lord, thou made so gloryous, Whos synne hath mad hy’ a devyl in helle, He mevyd man to be so co.ntraryous, Man repentyd, & he, in his obstynacye, doth dwells 39 Virtue prays God to repel the malice of the devil, and take man into grace. (Soft comes forward, saying, that the supplications of all have reached him. Truth tells God he will not leave him — reminds God that he promised, when Adam sinned, 6 that he shulde deye & go to belle 5 — that to restore him is impossible, and prays that he be tormented for ever. Mercy intercedes to God for compassion, says? that all heaven and earth cry for mercy, and calls the devil 4 a belle hownde . 5 Justice marvels what moves Mercy so much ; and assigns a good reason for man’s eternal punish- ment, That man having offended God, who is endless. Therefore, his endles puncheraent may nevyr sees; Also, he forsoke his maker, that made hym of clay, And the devyl to his mayst’ he ches, Shulde he be savyd ? nay ! nay ! nay ! Mercy says, that there is too much vengeance in Justice — that the ‘frelnesse 5 of mankind should he considered — and that the mercy of God is without end. Feace exhorts them not to quarrel, and says that she approves M*ercy’s supplication — for, yff mannys sowle shulde abyde in heile. Be twen god & man euyr shulde be dyvysyon, And than might not I, pes, dwelle, She proposes to refer the whole to God, to which 40 the others assent, and dFtlttlg (God the Son) enter- ing, Peace says, Her is God ! now her’ is vnyte ; Hefne and erth is plesyd with pes. God the Son is is inclined to Peace. He says that If Adam had not deyd, peryschyd had ryghtwysnes; And also, trewth had be’ lost ther by : Giff another deth come not, mercy shulde perysch, Than pes wer’ exyled ffynyaly ; So tweyn dethis must be, yow fowr to cherysch. <[[ But he that shall deye, ye must knawe, That, in hym, may be non iniquyte, That helle may holde hym be no lawe, But, that he may pas, at hese lyberte, Ower swyche, on his p’vyde, & se ; And hese deth, for mannys deth, schal be redemp'con. All hefne, & erthe, seke now ye : Plesyth it yow this con’clusyon ? Veritas. — I trowth, hane sowte the erthe, with out & with inne, &, in sothe, there kan non be fownde, That is of o day byrth, with owt synne ; Nor to that deth, wole be bownde- MH'a I, mercy, have ronne the hevynly regyon rownde, And ther is non of that charyte, That, ffor man, wole suffre a deadly wounde ; So I can not wete how, this schal be. Justicia . — Sur’ ; I can fynde non sufficyent j ffor servauntys vn profytable we be, ech on ; He love nedyth to be ful ardent. That, for man, to helle wolde gon. Pax . — That God may is non but on ; Therfor, this, is be hys a vyse $ 41 He that gaff this co’nsell, lete hy’ geve the comfortc a Ion, For the conclusyon, in hym, of all these lyse. dFtlttt#* — It peyneth me, that man I mad, That is to seyn, peyne I must suffre for. & counsel of tlic trtm'tc, must be had, Whiche of us shal man restor*. in your wysdam, son, man was mad thor, And in wysdam was his temptac’on, Therfor, sone, sapyens ye must ordeyn her’ for’, & se how, of man, may be salvac’on, ffadyr j he, that schal do this, must be both God & man; Lete me se how I may wer’ that wede ; And sy-th, in my wysdam, he began, I am redy to do this dede. Jbp’US SVflS*— I, the holy gost, of you tweyn, do p’cede; This charge I wole take on me : I, love, to your lover, schal you lede#; This is the assent of our unyte. M*ia . — Now is the loveday mad, of us fowr, fynia’ly : Now may we leve in pes, as we wer wonte. Misericordia fy veritas obviaveruat si'bi Justicia <$f pax osculate sunt [§■ hie osculabunt pariter omnes.] God the Father directs the Angel Gabriel to go to Mary at Joseph’s, in Galilee; and God the Son instructs Gabriel to Say that she is with owte wo, & ful of grace, And that I, the son of the godhed, of her schal be bor* Hyge the, thou wer* ther’ a pace, elleys we schal be ther, the be for’, I haue so gret hast, to be man thor’, In that mekest & purest virgyne, Sey her, she shal restor, Of yow Aungellys, the greet knyne. 42 God the Holy Ghost, adis, IT And, if she aske the howe it myth be, lette her, I, the holy gost, schal werke at this ; Sche sclial be savyd thorwe our unyte. In tokyn, her bareyn cosyn Elyzabeth, is Qwyk with child in her’ grett age, I wys ; Sey her, to vs, is no thynge impossyble. Her’ body schal be so ful fylt, with bly s That she schal sone thynke this sownde credyble. Gabriel departs. He then appears to the Virgin ^ with this salutation : Heyl ! — fful of grace, God is with the ! Amonge all women blyssyd art th’u ! Her’ this name Eva, is turnyd Aue, That is to say, with owte sorwe ar ye now ! % Thow sorwe, in yow, hath no place, Yet of joy lady ye nede more ; Therefore I adde, and sey, ful of grece, ffor so ful of grace was nevyr non bore ; Yet who hath grace he needeth kepyng sor’, Therfor’ I sey God is with the, Which schal kepe yow endlesly thor’ ; So amonge all women blyssyd are ye !* Mary says she is troubled at the greeting with c grett shamfastnes.’f [Passages paralleled ; from the Apoc. N. Tesfc.J * Mart, vii. — 3. Hail, Maty ! Virgin of the Lord most acceptable ! Oh V rgin full of grace ! The Lord is with you, you are blessed above all women, you are blessed above all men, that have been hitherto born. | 4. But the Virgin, who had be- fore been well acquainted with the countenances of angels, and to whom such light from heaven was no un- common thing, 5. Was neither terrified with the vision of the angel, nor astonished at the greatness of the light, but only troubled about the angel’s words ; 6. And began to consider what so extraordinary a salutation should mean, what it did portend, or what sort of end it would have. 4 ^ frabryel. — Mary, iti this, take ye no drede, For at God, grace fownde hane ye ; Ye schal conceyve, in yo* wombe, in dede, A childe, the sone of the trynyte ; His name, of yow, Jh’u clepyd schal be ; (*) He schal be grett, the son of the byest, clepyd of kende &, of his ffadyr, davyd, the lord schel geve by* the se, Reynyng i’ the hous of Jacob, of which regne scha'. oe n’ende. (f ) Maria. Aungel , I sey to yow, In what maner of wyse schal this be ? ffor know’ng of man I haue non now ; I haue evyr mor kept, & schal, my virginyte ; T dowte not the wordys ye ban seyd to me, dv*. I aske howe it schal be do’? ( | ) Gfrrtiwit*?*- -The holy gost sehal com, fro above, to the ; & the vertu of hy’ hyest, schal schadu yu. ( ||) Jri j directs her to visit Elizabeth, her aged cousin, who is in the * sexte monyth of her passage . 5 [ Her the Aungel makyth a lytyl restynge , Mary be - holdyth hy\fy the Aungel seyth,] [Passages paralleled ; from the Apoc. N. Test.] * Mart, vii. — 7- To this thought the angel, divinely inspired, replies; 8. Fear not, Mary, as though I intended any thing inconsistent with your chastity in this saluta- tion : 9. For you have found favour with the Lord, because you made virginity your choice. 10. Therefore while you are a Virgin, you shall conceive without sin, and bring forth a son. fll. He shall be great, because he shall reign from sea to sea, and from the rivers even to the ends of the earth. 12. And he shall be called the Son of the Highest ; for he who is born in a mean state on earth, reigns in an exalted one in heaven. 13. And the Lord shall give him the throne of his father David, and he shall reign over the house of Jacob for ever, and of his kingdom there shall be no end. (J) 15. To this discourse of the angel the Virgin replied, not, as though she were unbelieving, but willing to know the manner of it : 16. She said, How can that be ? For seeing, according to my vow, I never have known any man, how can I bear a child ? (||) 19. The Holy Ghost shall come upon you, and the power of the Most High shall overshadow you. 44 The Holy Ghost Abydyth thin answer, and thin assent, Thor’ we wyse werke of dvvinyte, the secunde p’sone, verament, Is mad man, by fraternyte With inne thi self, in place present. He acquaints her that ‘ all the hlyssyd spyrytys, all the gode levers, the chosyn sowlys that ar in helle & byde Jesu.’ Thin answer desyr to her ; And thin assent to the incarnac’on : — Gvff me my’ answer’, now, lady der’? Maria . — With all mekenes I ’dyne, to this a corde ; Bowynge down my face, with all benyngnte. Se her, the hand mayden of our lorde, Aftyr thi worde be it don to me. (*) Gabryel. — Gramercy ! my lady fire ; Gramercy ! of yo’ aunswer on hyght ; Gramercy ! of yo’r grett humylyte ; Gramercy ! the’, lanterne of lyght ! [Her’ the holy gost discendit , with uj. bemys, to o’ lady ; the sone of the godhed , nest , with uj. bemys , to the holy gost ; the Jfadyr, godly , with uj bemys , to the sone ; And so entre , al thre, to her bosom ; Mary seyth,] A ! now I fele, in my body be, Parfyte god, & parfyte man ; Havyng ol schapp of chyldly carnalyte Evyn, all at onys, thus God be gan ! [ Passage paralleled; from the Apoc. N Test.] (*) Mary, vii. — 21. Then Mary stretching forth her hands, and lifting her eyes to heaven, said, Behold the handmaid of the Lord! Let it be unto me accord- ing to thy word. 45 Nott takynge dyrst o membyr, & Sytlie a notiler, But parfvte childhood ye have a non ; Of your hand mayden, now, ye have made your modyr. With owte peyne in fflesche & bon ! Thus conceyved nevyr woman non, That ever was beynge in this lyff; 0 my’ hyesfc ffadyr, in your tron, It is worthy your son, now my son, have a pr’ogatyff! 1 cannot telle what joy, what blysse. Now I fele*in my body. Aungel Gabryel, I thank you for thys ; Most mekely recomende me to my faders mercy. To haue be’ the modyr of God, fful lytyl wend I, Now, my’ cosyn Elyzabeth ffayn wold I se, How sche hath conseyvid, as ye dede specyfy. Now, blyssyd be the hyg trynyte ! Gabryel. — Far’ weyl turtyl ; Goddys dowter der’ : Far’ wel Goddys modyr ; I the honowr : Far’ wel Goddys sustyr, and his pleynge fer* ; Far’ wel Goddys chawmer. & his bowr ! Mary returns Gabriel’s farewell, and says, I undyrstande, by inspy rac ’on*. That ye knowe, by synguler p’uylage, Most of my son’ys Incarnac’on’ : I p*y you take it in to vsage, Be a custom’ ocupac’on, To vesyte me, ofte, be mene passage; Your p’sence is my comfortac’on. Gabriel courteously accepts the invitation, com- mends himself to ‘ the trone of the trinyte,’ and ascends to ‘ hefne,’ with an Ave : — Ave Maria ! gr a plena d’us iecu ’ uy y g ) sesena ^ Ang’li cantando ista sequentia. 46 MYSTERY V. IN COTTON MS. PAGEANT XII. JOSEPH’S JEALOUSY. * Joseph . — How dame, how! vndo jour dor’ ! vntioi Ar ye at hom P why speke ye notht ? Susanna. — Who is ther ? w r hy cry ye so ? Telle us your herand ? wyl ye ought? Joseph. — Vn do your dor ! I sey you to, ffoi* to com in is al my thought Maria. — It is my spowse, that spekyth us to. On do the dor, his wyl were wrought. Well come hom, m’y husbond der ! How have you ferd, in fer co’ntre ? Joseph. — To gete our levynge, with owtyn dwer’, I have sor’ laboryd, dor the & me.f Maria. — Husbond, ryght gracyously, now come be ye; It solacyth me sor’, sothly, to see yow in syth. [Passages paralleled ; from the Apoc. N. Test.] * Mary, viii. — 1. Joseph therefore went from Judsea to Galilee, with intention to marry the Virgin who was betrothed to him ; 2. For it was now near three months since she was betrothed to him. f PROTEVANGELION, x. — 1. Jo- seph returned from his building houses abroad, which was his trade. 4*7 Joseph . — Me merveylyth, wyff! surely your face I can not se r But as the sonne with his bemys in ’he is most bryth. M aria. -t Husbond, it is, as it plesvth our lord, that grace of hy’ grew. Who that evyr beholdyth me, veryly, They schal be grettly steryd to vertu ; ffor this gyfte, and many moo, good old gramercy ! Joseph. — How hast thou ferde, jentyl mayde, Whyl I have be* out of londe ? Maria. — Sekyr, ser ; beth nowth dysmayde, Byth aftyr the wyl of goddys sonde. Joseph. — That semyth evyl, I am afrayd ; Thi wombe to hyge doth stonde ; (* ) J drede me sor’ I om be trayd, S'n other man the had in honde 9 Hens, sythe, that I went: (f) Thy wombe is gret, itgynnyth to ryse. Than has thou be gownne a synfuiigyse. Thy self thou art thus schent. Now, dame, what thinge menyth this Y With childe thou gynnyst ryih gret to gon ; Sey me, Mary, this childys fadyr ho is ? I p’y the telle me, and that anon ? Maria. — The fadyr of hevyn, & se, it is, Other fadyr hath he non : I dede nevyr forfete with man, I wys, Wherefor’, I p’y yow, amende yo* mon, This childe is goddys, and your’. [Passages paralleled ; from the Apoc. N. Test.] (*) Mary, viii. — At length it plainly appeared she was with child, and it could not be hid from Joseph : 4. For going to the Virgin in a free manner, as one espoused, and talking familiarly with her, he per- ceived her to be with child. (f) 5. And thereupon began to be uneasy and doubtful, not knowing what course it would be best to take. 48 Joseph Goddys childe! thou lyist, io fay* ! God dede nevyr rape so with may’. * * * * But yit I say, Mary, whoos childe is this f Maria. — Goddys and your*, I sey, I wys. Joseph. — Ya, ya! all olde men, to me take tent, & weddyth no wyff, in no kynnys wyse. That is a yonge wench, be m’y a sent. For doute & drede & swych servyse. Alas! Alas! my name is shent; All men may me now dyspyse, & seyn old cokwold ! * * * * Alas, and welaway ! Alas, dame ! why dedyst thou so‘? For this synne, that thou hast do, I the for sake, and from the go, For onys evyr, & dy. Maria. — Alas gode spowse! why sey ye thus ? Alas der* hosbund a mende yo* mod ! It is no man, but swete Jhus, He wyll be clad in flesch and blood. And of yo* wyff be born. Saphor. — For sothe the A’ngei thus seydh , That goadys sone, in trynite. For rcannys sake, a man wolde be. To save that is for lorn. Joseph. — An A ngel ! alas, alas ! fy for schame Ye syn now, in that ye to say ; To puttyn an A’ngei in so gret blame. Alas, alas ! let be do way ; It was s’n boy began this game, That clothyd was elene and gay, & ye geve hym now an A’ngei name. Alas, alas ! and welaway. That evyr this game be tydde ! 49 A dame ! what thought haddyst thoti Her may all men this proverbe trow. That many a man doth bete the bow. Another man hath the brydde. Maria . — A gracyous God ! in hefne trone ! Comforte my spowse in this hard cas; Mercyful god, a mend his mone, As I dede nevyr so gret trespas. Joseph. — Lo, Lo, sers ! what told I yow, That it was not for my prow, A wyff to take me to, An that is wel sene now ; For Mary, I make god a vow, Is grett with childe, lo ! Alas, why is it so ? To the busshop I wole it telle, That he the lawe may here do, With stonys her to qwelle. II Nay, nay, yet God forbede ! That I should do that ve’geabyl dede. But if I wyst, wel away ! I knew nev’ with her, so God me spede, To ky’ of thynge, i* word nor dede, That towchyd velany. Nevyr the less what for thy, Thow she be meke & mylde, With owth mannys company, She myght not be with childe. H But I ensur’ my’ was it nevyr; Thow yet she hath not done her devyr. Rather than I shuld pleyny’ opvnly, Certeynly, yett, had I levyr, For sake the co’ntr’, ffor evyr, & nevyr come i’ her’ co’pan/. For, & men knew this velany, 50 In reproff tliei wolde me holde, And yett many bettyr than I, Ya ! hath ben made cokolde. ^ Now, alas ! whedyr schal I gone ? I wot nevyr whedyr, nor to what place ; For offyn tyme sor’we comyth sone, & longe it is or it pace. No comfort may I have her’, I wys wyff thou dedyst me wronge, Alas I taryed fro’ the to longe, All men have petv enime amonge. For to my sor’we is no cher.( a ) Maria. — God ! that in my body art sesyd, Thou knowist my husbond is dysplesyd, To se me i’ this plight ; For unknowlage he is desesyd, & therfor help that he wer’ esyd, That he myght knowe the ful pT vght ; For I hame levyr abyde respyt, To kepe thi sone inp’uite, Graunted by the holy spyryt, Than that it shoulde be opyn’d by me. God appears and instructs an Angel to desire Jo- seph will abide with Mary, she being pregnant by God himself. Angelus. — ( b ) Joseph! Joseph! thou wepyst shyrle, Fro’ thi wyff why comyst thou owte ? [Passages paralleled ; from the Apoc. N. Test.] (a) Mary, viii. — 6. For being a just man, he was not willing to expose her, nor defame her by the suspicion of be- ing a whore, since he was a pious man, 7 He purposed therefore privately to put an end to their agreement, and as privately to send her away. ( b ) 8. But while he was meditating these things, behold the angel of the Lord appeared to him. 51 Joseph. — Good ser ! lete me wepe my ffylle ; Go forthe that wey, & lett me nowght. The Angel requests him to return and cheer her Sclie is a ful clene m I tolle ye God wyl of her be born. And sche clene mayd as she was be forn. To save manky nd that is for km ; Go cher’ her, ther’for’, I say. Joseph. — A, lord god ! benedicite ! Of thi gret eomforte I thank the, That thou sent me this space ; I myght wel a wyst parde. So good a creatur* as sche, Wold nevyr a don’ trespace, ****** Joseph then returns to Mary, and under a feeling of repentance and delight says, 4ft Joseph. — Alas ! for joy, I qwedyr & qwake ! Alas ! what bap now was this ? A mercy ! mercy ! my jentyl make, mercy ! I have seyd al a mys ; All that I have seyd her’ I for s:.ke. Your swete fete now let me kys. Maria. — Nay lett be; my fete not thou’ them take ; My mowth ye may kys, I wys t & welcome on to me. Joseph. — Gra’mercy ! my’ owyn swete wyfF! Gramerey ! myn hert ! my love ! my lyff ! Schul I nevys mor’ mak suche stryff, Be twyx me & the ! He tells her he is convinced : — Had thou not be* a vertuous wythe, God wold not a be’ the’ with inne. 52 Joseph assures Mary that hereafter he will serve her, and worship the child ; yet he expresses cu- riosity — & tkerfor’ tell me, & nothynge w’hou’de, The holy mat’er of your concep’ion. Mary relates, that the Angel Gabriel greeted her, and said, God shulde be borne of my bode, The ffendys powste ffor to ffelle, Thor’we the Holy Gost, as I wel se : Thus God, in me, wyl byde & dwelle. Joseph expresses satisfaction, thanks God, is re- conciled to Mary, and the performance concludes. 63 MYSTERY VI. IN COTTON MS. PAGEANT XIII. VISIT OF MARY TO ELIZABETH. jVjAR? discoursing with Joseph, informs him that Elizabeth is with Child, and proposes to visit her. Joseph . — A ! godys sake ! is she with childe? sche P Then wole her husbond zakarye be mery ; In Montana they dwelle, fer hens, so moty the In the cety of J uda, i know it veryly, It is hens, I trow r e, myles two & ffyfty. They prepare for the journey, and un setting off, Mary urges Joseph to go fast, “ ffar I am schamfast of the pepyl to be seyne . 5 Joseph. — Amen, Amen, and evyr more, w $f sic Vnsient eta plac’ea.] Lo wyff ! io I how starkly I go befor. Contemplation. Sovereynes ! Vndyrstand, that kyng davyd here Ordeyned dour & twenty prestys, of grett devoc on, In the temple of God * * * * And on’ was prvncfc of presty?, havynge ^’nucy’on, 54 Anionge which was an old prest, clepyd Zakarye, Sf he had an old woman to his wyfF, of holy conversac’oa Whiche hyth Elizabeth, that nevvr had childe, vervlye. CoNTEjvii'L ATiOiV then states, that there has been an annunciation by Gabriel to Zachary that his wife should conceive, her consequent conception, and Mary’s intended visit to her : And of her’ tweyners metyng, her gynnyth the proces Now god be our begynnynge, &, of my tonge, I wole ses. Joseph. — A ! A ! wyff, in feyth I am wery ; therfore I wole sytt downe & rest me ryglft 'liter* * Lo, wyff! her is the hous of Zakary, Wole ye I*clepe Elizabeth to yow to aper ? Maria. — Nay, husbond, and it plese you, I shal go ner. Now the blyssyd trynite be in this hous ! A ! cosyn Elizabeth ! swete modyr ! what cher ? Ye grow grett; A, my God ! how ye be gracyous!* Elizabeth. — A non, as I herd of yow this holy gretynge, Mekest mayden, & the modyr of god, Mary, Be yo’ breth, the holy gost vs was inspyrynge, That the childe in my body enjoyd gretly, And turnyd down, on his knes, to our god, reverently, Whom ye ber’ in your body.f *1 hey congratulate and bless each other. Eliza f Passages paralleled ; from the Apoc. N. Test.] (*) Protevan. ix. — 19. Then Mary I to me that the mother of my Lord tilled with joy, went away to her j should come unto me ? cousin Elizabeth, and knocked at the 21. For lo ! as soon as the voice of door. I thy salutation reached rny ears, that (t) 20. Which when Elizabeth heard j which is i > me . leaped and blessed she ran and Opened to her, and blessed thee, her, and said, Whence is this J 55 beth asks Mary what occasioned her visit; to this she answers, Mary. Whan I sat, in my lytyl hous, on to God prayngs, Gabryel come, & seyde to me. Ave ; Ther I conceyvyd God, at my consentvnge, Parfyte god & p’fyte man, at onys beynge ; Than the Aungel seyd on to me. That it was sex monethys syn your conseyvynge, This cawsyth my comynge cosyn, yow to co’fort & se. Elizabeth acquaints Mary of her own conceo* tion after Gabriel’s salutation, and they sing Magni- ficat, taking two lines alternately. It is given in the Latin, and translated into English verse. Mary says this Psalm ought to be seyn Euery day amonge us, at our eve song. But, cosyn Elyzabeth, I schal you her’ kepe, & this thre monethis abyde her’ row, Tyl ye han cliilde, to wasche, sko’r, & swepe, &, in all that I may, to comforte yow. Elizabeth. — A ye ! modyr of God ! ye shewe us her’ how We schulde be made, that wrecchis her be, All hefne and herthe wurchepp yow now, That ar’ trone & tabernakyl of the hyg trinite. Zachary remains speechless during this convei- sation. Joseph salutes him. Joseph. — A ! liow do ye ? how do ye, ffadyr Zacharye P We ffalle ffast in age with owt oth : Why shake ye so yo’ hed P hane ye the palsye ? Why speke ye not ser’ ? I trowe ye ar’ not wroth. Elizabeth.— Nay wys, ffadyr Joseph, tli’to he wer* ful loth ; It is the vcsytac’on of God ; he may not speke, veryly ; lete us thank god therfor both, He sehal remedy it whan it plesyth his mercy. Joseph tells Mary they have far to go, and had better return home. After mutual leave taking with Zachary and Eliazbeth, they depart. [ Her Mary fy Elizabet party, } fy Elizabeth goth t$ Zakarie §“ seyth ,] Good husbond ryse up, I be seke yow, & go we the te’ple ndt *ast, to worship, because god wyl be born. Coteplaon . — Lystenyth Sovereynys, her is a conclusyon How the Ave was mad, her’ is lcrnyd vs ; The Aungel seyd, Ave g y ia plena d’us tecum , benedict a tu in mulieribus. Elyzabeth seyd, et benedictus fruitis ventris tui. Thus the church added Maria , and Jh’us her. Who seyth our ladyes saw ter dayly, ffor a yer thus, He hath pardon ten thowsand & eyte hundryd yer. Contemplaoion continues — relates that Mar} abode with Elizabeth during three months, till John was born, and that then Zachary and Elizabeth 4 pro- phecyed,’ They made Benedictus them Deforn, & so Magnificat and Benedictus ffyrst, in that place thei made worn, whan all was don, our lady fre Toke her’ leve, than after this At Elizabeth, and at Zakarie, And kyssyd John, and gan hy* blys 57 Now, most mekely we thank you of yowr pacyens, & beseke yow, of your good supportac’on. If her’ hath he seyd, er do’ any i’co’uenyens, We assygne it, to yowr good deliberac’on ; Be sek’yn’ge, to crysts p’c’ous passyon, Co’serue & rewarde yowr hedyr comy’ge, With Ave we be gun’e, & Ave is our co’clusyon Ave Regia celor to our lady we synge. The Play concludes and ushers in the succeeding Pageant by the following sprightly address, which as a specimen of the language held by the Performers to their audiences is curious. In the last verse but one, there is a pretty clear intimation that the goodness of the playing was according to the liberality of the pay. 5T A voyd sers ! And lete my lorde the buschop come, And syt in the courte, the lawes for to doo ; And I schal gon in this place, them for to somowne. The that ben in my book, the court ye must com too. 5[ I warne yow her’, all a bowte. That I somown you, all the rowte, .Loke ye fayl, for no dowte, At the court to ‘ per*. Both John Jurdon’, & Geffrey Gyle, Malkyn Mylkedoke, and fayr Mabyle, Stevyn Sturdy, & Jak at the style, & Sawdyr Sadder. If Thom Tynker 5 , & Betrys belle, Peyrs Potter, & Whatt at the welle, Symme Smalfeyth, & Kate Kelle, & Bertylmew the bocher Kytt cakeler, & Colett crane, Gylle fetyse, & fayr Jane, Powle pewter’, & P’nel prane, & Phelypp the good fleccber ^f Cok crane, & Davy drydust, Luce Lyer, & Letyce Iytyl trust, Miles the miller, and colle crake crus , Bothe bette the baker, & Robyn Rsde And loke ye rynge wele in yowr purs, Por ellys yowr cawse may spede the wurs, Thow that ye slynge goddys curs, Evy’ at my’ hede. Bothe Bontyng the browster’, & Sybyly Slynge, Megge Mery wedyr, & Sabyn Sprynge, Tyffany Twynkeler, ffayle for no thynge hast co’ A way, The courte schal be this day 59 MYSTERY VII. IN COTTON MS. PAGEANT XIV. THE TRIAL OF MARY AND JOSEPH. Two Slanderers introduce the simple story oi this performance. p rm. Detractor . — A ! A ! serys, God save yow alt Her’ ij a sayr pepyl, in good fay. ****** To reyse blawdyr is all my lay, Bakbyter is my brother of blood. Dede he ought come hedyr in al this day ; Now wolde God that he wer her*, &, be my trewth, I dar’ wel say, That if we tweyn, to gedyr aper’, Mor slawndyr we to schal a rer’, With in an howr’, thorwe outh this town. Than evyr ther was this thowsand yer, & ellys I shrewe you bothe vp & down. Now, be my trewth, I have a syght, Euyn of my brother, lo wher he is ; — Welcom, der brother ! my trowth I plyghfc Yovvr jentyl mowih let me now kys. S'edus Det'ctor . — Gramercy ! brother, so have I blys ; I am ful glad we met this day. 60 a.st Detractor. — Ryght so am I, brother, I wys, moch gladder than I kan say. But yitt, good brother, I yow pray, Telle, ail these pepyl, what is yo’ name : For yf thei knew it, my lyf I lay, They wole yow wurchep, & spek gret fame. 2 d Detractor. — I am bakbyter, that spyllyth all game, Both hyd and knowyn, in many a place. ls£ Detractor. — Be my trowth, I seyd the same *, & yet sum seyden thou shulde have evyl grace. 2d Detractor . — Herk ! reyse sclaundyr : canst thou owth telle of any newe thynge that wrought was late ? Detractor. — With in a shorte whyle a thynge befeile I trowe thou wylt lawhg ryghtt wel ther ate, ffor, be trowth, ryght mekyl hate, If it wyst, therof wyl growe. 2d Detractor. — If I may reyse ther with debate, I schal not spar’ the seyd to sowe. Detractor. — Syr, in the tempyl, a mayd ther was, Calde mayd Mary ; the trewth to tell, Sche seruyd so holy, with inne that plas, men, seyd sche was fedde with holy A’ngell ; Sche made a vow with man nevyr to melle, But to leve chaste, and clene virgine. Flow evyr it be, her wombe doth swelle, & is as gret as thyne or mvne. They discourse for some time upon this news very wittily, but in terms not befitting modern refinement* The Bishop, c Abizachar,’ enters, twz Doctors of Law. They listen to part of the slander, and at last the Bishop says, c Herke ye felawys , 5 antf inquires why they defame the virgin’s character — I charge yow ses of your fals cry, ffor sche is sybbe of mv owyn blood. 61 2d Detractor . — Svb of tlii kyn thow that she be All gret wltu chyld^ her wombe doth swells • Do calle her heayr, thi sanlf schal se, That it is trewthe that 1 thee telle. Is/ Detractor — Ser, for yowr sake, I schal kepe cownceile, Yow for to greve I am ryght loth, Bat list, syrs, lyst, what seyeth the belle P Our fayr mayd now gret with childe goth. Princ. Doct. leg. — ^ Make good heed, sers, what ye doth say, A vyse yow wele what ye p’sent, Gyf this be fownde fals, anothyr day fful sor’ ye schal yowr tale repent. 2d Detractor. — Ser, the mayd, forsothe, is good, & gent, Both comely, & gay, & a fayr wench ; And, feetly, with help, sche can consent, To set a cokewolde on the bye benche. Ep’us. — This ev’y’ talys my hert doth greve. Of hir’ to her’ suc’h fowle dalyawnce. If she be fovvndyn in such repreve, She schal sore rewe her governawns. IT Sy m Somnor ’, in hast wend thou thi way, Byd Joseph, and his wvff, be name, At the coorte to apper this day, Her’ hem to pourge of her defame ; Sey tnat I her of hem grett scharne, & that doth me gret hevynes, If thei be clone, with owtyn blame, bvd hem come hedyr, & shewe wytt nea. Den.— All redy ser I schal hem calle. Her at yo’ courte for to apper, And, yf I may hem mete with all, I hope ryght sone thei schal ben her. A wey, sers lete me com ner’ ; A man of wurchep her’ comyth to pi&ce. Of curtesy, :ns semyth, ye be to ler*. Do of yo lodys, with au evyl grace. * 0c me su* wurchep be for my face, or, be my trowth, I schal yow mak« If that I rolle yow up in my race, ffor fer I schal do yowr limbs quake, But yit su’ mede, & ye me take, 1 wyl with drawe my gret rough toth. Gold, or sylvyr, I wyl not for sake, But evyn as all somnors doth. IT A, Joseph ! good day, with thi ffayr spowae| my lorde, the buschop, hath for yow sent ; It is hym tolde that in thi’ house A cuckolde is Maria . — Of God, in hevyn, I take wyttnes, That synful werk was nevyr my thought, I am a mayd yit, of pur’ clennes, Lyke as I was in to this werd brought. en.— Othyr wyttnes shal non be sought} Thou art with childe, eche man may se } I charge yow bothe ye tary nought, But, to the buschop, com forth, with me, Joseph. — To the buschop, with yow, we wendej Of our purgac’on hawe we no dowth. Maria . — Almyghty God shal be our frende, Whan the trewthe is tryed owth. Den. — Ha ! on this wyse, excusy th her’, every scowto, Whan her owyn synne hem doth defame ; But lowly therin thei gyn to lowth, Whan thei be gvlty, & fowndyn in blame. Therfore com forth cokewolde. The Som’nor upbraids them further, and brings them before the Bishop, whom he thus addresses ; My lord, the buschop; her’ haue I brought This goodly copyl, at yo’ byddyng } as me semytn, as be her*, fraught flay r chylde, lullay, sone must she synec. 63 \st Detractor . — To her a credyl & ye wolde brynge* * Ye myglit saue mony in her purse, be cawse she is your cosyn, (young) thynge, I pray yow, ser, lete her nevyr far the were. tfp'us. — ^ Alas, Mary, what hast thou wrought ?* I am a schamyd evyn for thi sake * * * * Tell, me who hath wrought this wranke, How hast thou lost thi holy name ? Maria. — My name, 1 hope, is saff and sownd', God to wyttnes I am a mayd. * * * * Of ffleschly lust lust & gostly wownde In dede nor thought I nevyr asayd.f 2d Doct leg. — Herke thou, Joseph ; I am afrayd That thou has wrought this opyn synne $ £ This woman thou hast thus be trayd. With gret flaterynge, or su’ fals gynne. ****** 2 d Detractor . — Now, be my trowth, ye hytte the pynn6> With that purpose in fey th I holde, Tell now how thou thus hir dudyst wynne. Or knowlych thi self ffor a cockewold ? Joseph. — Sche is, for me; a trewe elene mayde, And I, for hir, am elene also ; Of ffleschly synne I nevy’ asayde, Sythyn that sch’ was weddyd me to.§ [ Passages paralleled ; from the Apoc. N. Test] (*) Proteyan. xi.— 8. Both she and Joseph were brought to their trial; and the priest said unto her, Mary, what hast thou done? (t) 11. To which with a flood of tears she answered, As the Lord m God Kvoth, I am innocent in his siaht. seeing I know no man. (t) 12. Then the priest 6aid t% Joseph, Why hast thou done this? (§) 13. And Joseph answered, as the Lord my God liveth, I have not bteu concerned with her. hp us - — Thou schalt not schape from vs, yitt so f fiyrst thou shalte tellyn us a nother lay, Streyt to the awter thou shalt go. The drynge of vengeawns ther to a say. IT Her is the hotel of Goddys vengeauns ;* * This drynk shall be now thi purgac’on This hath suche vertu, by Goddys ordenauns. That what man drynk of this potac’on. And goth (straightway) in p’cessyon, Her’ in this place this awter aboweth, If he be gylty, sum maculacion, Pleyn in his face, schal shewe it owth, [hie Joseph bibit §* sap 1 cies ecuiuit altar ' diceh^\ Joseph . — This drynk I take, with meke entent. As I am gyltles, to God I pray ; Lord ! as thou art omnypotente, On me then shewe the trowth this day. [modo Mbit . ] About this awter I take the way ; O gracious God help thi servaunt. As, I am gyltles, a gen you may ; Thi hand of mercy, this tyme, me graunt. Den . — This old shrewe may not wele gon. Long he taryeth to go a bowth j lyft up thi feet, set forth thi ton, or, be my trewth, thou getyst a clowte. Joseph is sorely upbraided and taunted, by the Som nor and the Slanderers, whilst he paces round the aitai. [ Passages paralleled ; from the Apoc. N. Test.] (*) Protevan. xi.—- 17. But he wept , the Lord, which is for trial, and sfl bitterly, and the priest added, I will your iniquity shall be laid oDen be* 'Siuse you both to drink the water of ' fore you. 65 sepn . — A, gracyous God ! help me this tyde«, Ageyn this pepyl, that doth me defame. As I nevyr more dede towche her syde. This day help me, fro werdly schame, Abowte this awter to kepe my fame, vij. tymes I haue gon rownd abowte. If I be wurthy to suffyr blame, O, rightful god ! my synne shewe owughte. Ep'us. — Joseph ; with lierte. thank god, thi lorde, Whos bey’ mercy doth the excuse; ffor thi purgac’on we schal recorde. With hyr, of synne, thou dedyst nev* muse* But, Mary, thi self mayst not refuse. All grett with chylde we se the stonde ; What mystyz man dede the mys vse ? Why hast thou synnyd A geyn thi husbonde P Maria.— I trespacyd nevyr, with erthely wyght, Therof I hope, th’owe goddys sonde, Her to be purgyd, be for yo’ syght. From a21 synne clenne, lyke as my’ husbonde; Take me the hotel, out of yowr honde ; Her schal I drynke, befornyowr face, A bowth this awter than schal I fonde vij tymes to go, by godys grace. ***** 2d Doct. leg . — With goddys hyg myght loke thou not rape* Of thi purgac’on wel the a vyse , Yf thou be gylty thou mayst not schape, be war evyr of god that ryghtful justyce. it God with vengeauns set on the his syse, Not only thou, but all thi kyn is schamyd Bettyr it is to telle the ti ewth devyse, Than God for to greve, and of hym be gramyfl. Mary drinks of the water of vengeance, and walte 66 around the altar, saying a prayer to God, which she oncludes thus : Gabryel me, with wordys, he be fora. That ye, of your goodnes, would become my chylde ; Help now of your hyg-ness,, my wurchep be not lorn, A der’ sone ! I p’y yow, help yo’ modyr mylde. Mary receives no harm from the potation, and the High Priest, in astonishment, declares, that Sche is clene mayde, both modyr and wyff ! The Slanderers suspecting some deceit, express dis- satisfaction. Is/ Detractor . — Be my fadyr sowle, her* is gret gyle; be cause she is syb of yowr kynreed, The drynk is chaungyd, by su' fals wyle. That sche no shame shulde haue this steed. The High Priest orders the Slanderer to drink of the same cup. Is/ Detractor. — Syr, in good feyth, o draught I pulle. If these to drinkers have not all spent. He instantly becomes frantic from the draught ; the Bishop and all present ask pardon of Mary for their suspicion and detraction, which she grants ; she and Joseph congratulate each other ; and the piece con- cludes. 67 MYSTERY VIII. IN COTTON MS. PAGEANT 27. THE MIRACULOUS BIRTH, AND THE MID WIVES. that Octavian having demanded tribute to be ‘ cryed in every bourgh & cety be name, 5 he must c sekyrnedys with him, where she may perhaps find some of hef kin. Joseph . — My spowse ye be with childe; I fer yow to kary ; For, me semyth, it wer’ werkys wylde : But yow to plese, ryght fayn wold I ; Yitt women ben ethe to greve, whan thei be with childe. Now latt us forth wend, as fast as we may, & al myghty God spede us, in our jurnay. Mary, while they are travelling, espies a tree, and inquires of Joseph, A my swete husbond ! wolde ye teile to me, What tre is yon, standing vpon yon hylle P T oseph . — For suthe Mary it is clepyd a chery tre ; In t> me of yer, ye myght ffede yow theron yowr fylle (*) Protevan. xii. — 1. And it came i the Jews should be taxed, who wero to pass, that there went forth a decree I of Bethelehem, in Judaea, from the Emeperor Augustus, that all | commences by Joseph acquainting Mary g* * [ Passages paralleled; from the Apoc. N. Test.] 68 Maria . — Turn a geyn, husbond, & beholde you tr% How that it fclomyght, now so swetly, Joseph.— Cum on Mary, that we wem at yon Cyte, or ellys we may be blamyd, I telle yow lythly. Maria. — Now my spowse, I pray yow to be hold How the cheryes growyn vpon yon tre ; ffor to have them, of ryght, ffayn I wold, & it plesyd yow to labor’ so mec’h for me. oceph . — Yo’ desyr to ffulfyle I schall assay sekyrly : — Ow ! to plucke yow of these cheries, it is a werk wylde I dor the tre is so hy\ it wol not be lyghtly Y* for lete by’ pluk yow cheryes, be gatt yow with chiide. Maria. — Now good lord, I pray the, graunt me this boun, to haue of these cheries, & it be yo* wylle ; now, I thank it god, yis tre bowyth to me down, I may now gader’y a nowe, & etyn my ffylle. Joseph perceives, by the bowing down of the tree* that in speaking thus reproachfully to the Virgin, he has offended 4 god i 5 trinyte/ and he humbles himself. Meeting ‘ Ernes/ a citizen of Bethelehem, they are in- formed the city is full, on account of the persons resorting to pay tribute. Mary says. Yonder is an hous of haras, that stant be the wey, Amonge the bestys, herberyd may ye be. * * * * Maria . — In this por’ Iogge my chawmer I take, her for to A byde the tdyssyd byrth of bym* that all this werd dude make : — be twyn my’ sydys I fele he styrth. Joseph accordingly brings her in. Mary requires blm to depart, and lie does so, telling her he will 69 ‘ S eke su’ mydwyvys.’ He meets two, whose help he desires for Mary, which they promise. Salomee . — My name is Salomce, all men me knowe, ffor a mydwyff of wurthy fame ; Whan women travayl grace doth growe, There as I come I had nevyr shame. Zelomye . — And I am Zelomye, men knowe my name, We tweyn, with the, wyl go to gedyr, & help thy wyff, fro hurt & grame, Com forth, Joseph, go we streyth thedyr. The Midwives, being alarmed at a great light within, decline entering. Joseph returns ; inquires of Mary how she fares, and tells her the midwives are without, ‘ & dar not come in for lyght that they se. * [ hie Maria subridendo dicat maria .] Maria . — The mygkt of the godhede, in his Mageste wyl not be hyd now, at this whyle> The chylde that is born wyl p’ue his modyr fre, A very clene mayde, & th’r for I smyle. Joseph . — Why do ye lawghe, wyff, ye be to blame ; I pray yow, spowse, do no mor so ; In happ, the mydwyuys wyl take it to grame, &, at yo nede, helpe wele non do ; Iff ye haue nede of mydwyuys, lo, P’auentur, thei wyl gon hens, Yr for be sad, and ye may so, And wynnvth all the mydwyuis good diligens. [Passages paralleled ; from the Apoc. N. Test.] Proteyan. xiv. — 9. And the midwife went along with him, and 6tood in the cave. 10. Then a bright clowd over- shadowed the cave, and the midwife said, This day my soul is magnified, for mine eyes have seen surprising things, and salvation is brought forth to Israel. 11. But on a sudden the cloud be- came a great light in the cave, so that th-ir eyes could not bear it. 12. But the light gradually decreas- ed , until the infant appeared, and suck- ed the breast of his mother Mary. 13. Then the midwife erh d out, and said, How glorious a day is this, where- in mine eyes have seen this extraor- dinary sight ! 14. And the midwife went out from the cave, and Salome met her. i 70 Maria. — Xlusbond, I p’y yow, dysplese yow nowth® You that I lawghe and gret joye haue; Her’ is the chylde, this worde hath wrought, born now of me, that all thynge schal saue. Joseph. — I aske yow grace, for I dyde raue. 0 gracyous childe ! I aske mercy ; As thou art lord, & I but knaue, Ifor geue me now, my gret loly, Alas, mydwyuis ! what haue I seyd P 1 pray yow com to us mor’ner*, ifor her’ I fynde my wyff a mayd, &, in her arrae, a chylde hath her’, bothe mayd & moctyr sell’ is, in Her That gode woie Haue, may nevyr mor’ tayh^ Modyr an erth was nevyr non cler, With owth sche had, in byrth, travayle. Zelomy* — In byrth, travayle must sche nedvs Or ellys no chylde of her’ is born, Joseph. — I pray yow, dame, & ye vow’ch sa’ue* com se the chylde, my wifF beforn. Salome , — «e, taken of hir body, ande, not as othe ? childrao* 76 rtirceyued & bom by kvnde bene schapen, membre aft’ mernbre ande aft’ the soule sched into the bodye, but anon, at the firste inst’nce, he was full schappe in all membris, and alle hole man in body & soule, but, never the les, ful lytel in quantite ; for aft’ he waxed more & more kyndely than oth’ children done : so that, at the fyrste, he was full perfyte god and man, as wyse and as mygth as he is nowe. Ande, when this was done, Gabriel, knelynge downe with our ladye, &, sone aft’, with hir rysing up, toke curteysly his leue of hir, with a devoute w a lowe bowying to the erthe.* According with the above account of the incarnacion is the infor- mation in Erasmus’s Exposition of the Creed, that f the relygyouse contemplacyon of good and godly men hathe taughte — that the holye ghoste toke one of the moste purest droppes of bloode out of the vergine Maries herte, and layde it downe into her matrice; and that hereof, sodeynly, was made the perfighte body of a man, soo smalle as a lytle spyder whiche is but euen now cropen forthe from the egee, but yet with all the membres, fulle ftnysshed aud perfyght; and that, in the same momente, a soule was infused and putte into it, beynge euen verye than, forthewith, as perfyghte in all powers and qualytyes, as it is now in heuen.’* If this, and the last paragraph extracted from the MS. be com- pared with the scene in the Mystery ,* the similitude between the curious narration in each will be apparent, as that between the Council of the Trinity in the Mystery and the same event in the Speculum, Vita Christi. • Erasmus on the Crede. 8vo. 1533. art- the Descent, t Page 44, ante. n II.— THE BRETHREN OF THE HOLY TRI- NITY, OF ST. BOTOLPH WITHOUT AL- DERSGATE. “ The fourme of the Trinity was founden in Manne, that was Adam our forefadir, of earth oon personne ; and live, of Adam, the secunde persone ; and of them both was the third persone. At the deth of a manne three Beilis shulde be ronge, as his knyll, in worscheppe of the Trinetee ; and for a womanne, who was the seconde persone of the Trinetee, two Beilis should be rungen.” Ancient Homily for Trinity Sunday. An Episode is often pleasant to the bystander, and always to the person making it; with whom it is sometimes the consequence of a sudden recollection — ‘ this puts me in mind of that :* so, while writ- ing the last article of the Council of the Trinity in Heaven, I was reminded of a Guild of the Holy Trinity of the City of London. the reader please he may look at the following account of it; if he have no taste for such matters I am sorry for it ; he can pass to some- thing more likely to amuse him, and I apologize for the interruption. This fraternity of the Holy Trinity was founded in the forty-eightU year of Edward III. 1373, in honour of the body of Christ, and to maintain thirteen wax lights , burning about the sepulchre in the time of Easter in the said Church, and to find a Chaplain. Their chief day of solemnity was on Trinity Day to hear Mass in honour of the body of Christ, and of the Holy Trinity, and to make their offer- ings. — The Brotherhood consisted of a Messuage House and Tene- ment called Trinity Hall, otherwise the common Hall of the Frater- nity or Guild of the Holy Trinity, founded in the Church of bt< Botolph, Aldersgate, and also eight Messuages and Tenements, commonly called The Trinity , also situate beneath Trinity Hall.* * Stow’s London, vol. 1 . p. 613, &c. 11 78 Bo far this is Stow’s* account; to which may be added tnat, in Catholic worship thirteen candies are an allegory of Christ and the twelve apostles, and that in one of its ceremonies, the twelve candles denoting the twelve apostles are extinguished at intervals during successive parts of the service, until one only is left which represents Christ deserted by the disciples, and in the end that one is put cut to signify his death. f t The Evening -office of the Holy Week which the Church performs on Wednesday, Thursday , Sf Friday before Easter , 1760/ 8vo., of which I have a copy in my possession, marked e Ex Bibliotheca F. F. Min. Angl. Londini / contains the signification of certain candles. ‘ In the Evening of Wednesday, Thursday and Friday, the Church performs a solemn office called Tenebroe.... The name of Tenebrce is given to it from the cere- mony of extinguishing all the candles during the course of it, till at last it is finished in total darkness ; which is the signification of the word Tenebrce. — The six candles on the altar, and the fifteen candles on tho Epistle side, all burning at the beginning of the Office, signify the light of faith preached by the prophets and Jesus Christ: of which faith the fundamental article is the Mystery of the Blessed Trinity, represented by the Triangular candlestick. At the repetition of the fourteen Anti- phons in the matins aud lauds, fourteen of the candles in the triangular, candlestick are extinguished j and at the six last verses of the Bene dictus, those on the altar are put out ; to teach us that the Jews were totally deprived of the light of faith when they put our Saviour to death. But the fifteenth candle, that represent® the light of the world, Jesu3 Christ, is only hidden for a time under the altar, and afterwards brought out again still burning, to signify that though Christ, according to his humanity, died and was laid in the sepulchre, yet he was always alive, according to his divinity, by which he raised his body again to life/ The darkness, signifies the darkness at the crucifixion ; and ‘ the noise made at the end of the Prayer, represents the confusion of nature for the loss of its author.’ As in the above ceremonial the Trinity is represented by a triangular candlestick , so also it is represented by a triangular candle. An engraving by Galle, figures the triangular candle as standing in a candlestick held by an Angel. I subjoin from recollection a sketch of this representation qS the Trinity. 79 From the Chartulary of this religious Guild in my possession, i an enabled to relate the following particulars concerning it. The volume commences with the Romish Calendar on Vellum, in which are marked obytes of the brethren. It is followed by the statutes of the Order: one ordains, that the priest shall be charged by the wardens of the year, for to do his mass, winter and summer, by five o’clock, * sayinge by fore masse, duly, ft IStrmtfVte tff tltc Crgnltrr : another directs, * that in* the Sunday next aft’ alle sow- len day, the priest shal rede openlyche, stondynge in the pulpyte, alle the names of the bretheren and the sustren that ben on lyue.’ A t dirige* was also ordained on the Sunday night after ‘ alle sowler day,’ and on the morrow a requiem for the dead * bretheren and sustren,* at which each brother and sister should attend and offer * an halfe-peny,* or be vppon peyne of a pounde of wexe.’ It was directed, ‘ Also, gif eny of the bretberhode be a losed of eny thefte, or he be an comm’ contekour, or com’n hasardour, or of eny oth* wycked fame, wberfore by, that the co’pany may ben a apayred, or defamed, it is ordeyned that thei ben yputte oute of the breth* hode-’ It was further ordained that the priest should have * for his lyfiode* ten marks’ annually, and ‘ an dowble hode of the colour of the breth’- hode ; And also ‘ that he be meke and obedient vnto the qwer’ in alle diuine seruyces dvrynge hys t’rae, as custome is in the citee amonge alle othe’ p’stes. The statutes are succeeded by lists of the brothers and sisters in different years. The first list is preceded by the form of the Priest’s address, on reading their names, in the follow- ing words : * Gode brethren and susteren : it is forto weten and knowen, that the bygynnynge of this bretherhode of grete deuocio’n, eu*y ma’ paynge a peny forto fvnde xiij taperes about the sepulchre of c’ste at Estre, in the chirche of seynt Botulphe, without Alderesgate, in Loundon. Aft’ that, throug’e more gretter deuocio’n, & sferynge vnto the worschippe of god, it* was yturne in* to a frat’nyte of &l\t ©rglTgU, nougt with stondynge the fyndynge eu’y yere, the may’tenynge of the forsayde xiij taper’s ; of the whiche breth’hode thes’ were thei.* — Then before the names, is this notice ; * At the 80 bygynnynge of this frat’nyte, the whicbe was bygun’ e in the yere of kvnge Edwarde the thredde, one and fyfty * thes weren the bygy - neres th’of, and maysteres, & gou’nour’s for the first yer’ ; that is to sayen : — P hilippusat VynE; Agnes, vx\ eius ; Joh’es Bockynge. These betheth names of the bretheren, & the sus- teren, the whiche entreden in to the forsayde bretherhode, i* her tyme/ The names of fifty-three * bretheren, and twenty-nine * sus- teien,* immediately follow. T n the lists of this fraternity I find in the 10th year of Henry IV., the names of ‘ Thos’ de Berkyng, Abbas de Seynt Osyes. Joh’es Roos, Armiger. Galfra* Paynell, Armiger. D’us Joh’es Watford, P’or s’ti* Barthi.* D’us Joh’es Yonge, supp’or* s’ti’ Barthi’. Ric’s Lancastre, Rex de Armis. Kat’ina, vx’ ej\ Ric’s Haye Armig’. Joh’a, vx’ ej*. Will’s Yrby, Armiger P’or’ s’ti Barthi*. Ric’s Maydestone, Armig. Will’s Mounsewe, Armig’i, cu’ Counte de Westm’land. Rob’s Strangweys, Armiger, ibid. Rogerus Audelby, Rector de White Chapell. Will’s Lasyngby, Armig. D’us Joh’es Newport, Rector de Grascherche/ In the 2 Henry V. * Ric’us Derh’m, Ep’us landou” was the’ Master of the Brotherhood. In the Volume are copies of the grants, charters, patents, feoff- ments, wills, and other securities for the property of which the brotherhood were seized ; besides their own deeds of transfer, leases, and agreements. These Entries shew that the landed property of the Brotherhood of the Holy Trinity, consisted of houses in Aldersgate- street, the Barbican, Lamb-alley, Fanchurch-street, and Long-lane ; one of these was held on the annual payment of a rose, others in fee. They were proprietors of the Saracen’s head inn, and the Falcon on the hoop brewery. In the 14th year of king Richard II., Sir Rauff Kesteven, parson of St. Botolpb, and the two Churchwardens, granted a lease for twenty years to John Hertyshorn of the Saracen’s head with the appurtenances, at the yearly rent of ten marks ; the appurte^ nances were two houses adjoining on the north side, and were included in that rental as worth eight shillings each by the year, and * Stow says, the forty-eighth year of Edward III. 81 oc€ on the south side, was valued at ten shillings. * In the xxj yer of k yng Harry the vj,’ the bretheren received, ‘ For the rent of ij yere of Wyll’m Wylkyns, for the Sarresyn head v. li. vjs. viijd. — paynge by the yer liijs. iiijd. and ‘ of the Faucon on the hope, for the same ij yer vi. It. that is to say, payng’ by the yer’ iij li\ but the same year they demised the Falcon brewhouse to Robert Halle and Johu Walpole, brewers, tor four years, at eighty-four shillings per annum. Six years before, there is, in the churchwardens’ accounts, an item for * kerving and peinting of the seigne of the faucon, vi s .’ Some of the personals of this fraternity are interesting. By * Bille indented, made the xviij day of Juyn’ the iij yere of kyng Edwarde the iiij,’ the then master and wardens, acknowledge to have received from the then late master and wardens the goods thereinaftei described, among which are the following items : * A myssall, newe bounde, with derys leder, garnysshed wyth $ylk ; whereof the seconae lefe begynneth, Asp" 1 git aqua benecTta, Kith claspys & burdons, weying iiij vncj > iij a raven croaking, and a crow cawing on the hay-rack ; a coek crowing above them, and angels singing in the sky. The animals have labels from their mouths, bearing Latin inscriptions. Down the side of the wood-cut is the following account and explana- tion : ‘ A religious man inventing the conceits of both birds and beasts, drawn in the picture of our Saviour’s birth, doth thus ex- press them : The cock croweth, Christus natus est , (£fltt«gt tg hoxtt. The raven asked, Quando P tE&tllCU ? The cow replied. Hoc node, ®fU£ HUjflt* The ox cryeth out, UbiP Ubi ? ? SSttiere ? The sheep bleated out, Bethlehem , 2SctiUC= Voice from heaven sounded, Gloria in Excelsis , (Blot]) ht on fu'siu’ The custom of singing carols at Christmas prevails in Ireland to the present time. In Scotland where no church feasts have been kept since the days of John Knox, the custom is unknown. In Wales it is still preserved to a greater extent, perhaps, than in England; at a former period, the Welsh had carols adapted to most of the ecclesiastical festivals, and the four seasons of tbe year, but at this time they are limited to that of Christmas. After the turn of midnight at Christmas eve, service is performed ir the churches, followed by the singing of carols to the harp Whilst the Christmas holidays continue, they are sung in like manner in the houses, and there are carols especially adapted to be sung at the doors of the houses by visitors before they enter- Ljfyr Carolan,\ or the Book of carols, contains sixty-six for Christmas, and five summer carols; Blodeugerdd Cymrii,\ or the Antlioiogy of Wales, contains forty-eight Christmas carols, * London, Printed and Sold by J. Bradford, in Little Britain, the Corner House over against the Pump, 1701. Price One Penny. f Shrewsbury, 4th edit. 1740. 12mo. X Shrewsbury, 1779, 8vo 104 nine summer carols, three May carols, one winter carol, one nightingale carol, and a carol to Cupid. The following verse o* a carol for Christmas is laterally translated from the first mentioned volume. The poem was written by Hugh Morris, a celebrated song-writer during the commonwealth, and until the early part of the reign of William III.* To a saint let us not pray, to a pope let us not kneel ; On Jesu let us depend, and let us discreetly watch To preserve our souls from Satan with his snares ; Let us not in a morning invoke any one else. With the succeeding translation of a Welsh Wassail song , the ob- server of manners will, perhaps, be pleased. In Welsh, the lines of each couplet, repeated inversely, still keep the same sense. A Carol for the Eve of St. Mary’s Day. This is the season, when, agreeably to custom, That it was an honour to send wassail * By the old people who were happy In their time, and loved pleasure ; And we are now purposing To be like them, every one merry : Merry and foolish, youths are wont to be, Being reproached for squandering abroad. I know that every mirth will end Too soon of itself ; Before it is ended, here comes The wassail of Mary, for the sake of the time ! N 1 place tho maid immediately In the chair before us ; * An edition of Hugh Morris’s Works is now in the press, f Dyma amser yr oedd arver Anrhydedd vod o anvon gwirod. Here the master or mistress of the house was called on byname to officiate. 105 And let every body in the house be content that we May drink wassail to virginity, To remember the time, in faithfulness, When fair Mary was at the sacrifice, After the birth to her of a son, Who delivered every one, through his good will From their sins, without doubt. Should there be an inquiry who made the carol. He is a man whose trust is fully on God, That he shall go to heaven to the effulgent Mary, Towards filling the orders where she also is. Thomas Evans. On the continent the custom of carolling at Christmas is al- most universal. During the last days of Advent, Calabrian min- strels enter Rome, and are to be seen in every street saluting the shrines of the Virgin mother with their wild music, under the traditional notion of charming her labour-pains on the approach- ing Christmas. Lady Morgan observed them frequently stopping at the shop of a carpenter. In reply to qustions concerning this, the workmen who stood at the door said, that it was dene out of respect to St. Joseph.’* I have an old print of this prac- tice. Two Calabrian shepherds are represented devoutly playing at Christmas in a street of Rome, before a stone shrine, con- taing a sculpture of the Infant Jesus in the Virgin’s arms lighted up by candles, with a relief under it of supplicating souls in purgatorial fire, inscribed 6 Dite Ave Maria.* A young fe- male, with a rosary, is praying on her knees before the sculpture. The shepherds stand behind and blow the bagpipes and a clarionet- If one there be who has proceeded until now without tiring, he will know how much pleasantness there is in pursuits like these. To him who inquires of what use they are, I answer, that I have found them agreeable recreations at leisure mo* Lady Morgan’s Italy, c. xxi. 106 ments. I love an old MS. and ‘ a ballad in print/ and I know no distance that I would not travel to obtain Autolycus’s ‘ISallatr of a dFtglx that appeared upon the coast, on SSfetrnegtrau the fourscore of &p rtl, fortg thottssanh fathom ahobe boater, anfcr sung tht-es ballatr agatnst the hath hearts Of mathS*’ I can scarcely tell why collectors have almost overlooked Carols, as a class of popular poetry. To me they have been objects of interest from circum- stances which occasionally determine the direction of pursuit. The wood cuts round the annual sheets, and the melody of ‘ God rest you merry Gentlemen / delighted my childhood; and, I still listen with pleasure to the shivering carolist’s evening chaunt towards the clean kitchen window decked with holly, the flaring fire showing the whitened hearth, and reflecting gleams of light from the surfaces of the dresser utensils. Since this sheet was at the printer’s, Gilbert Davies, Esq. F. R. S. F. A. S. &c. has published eight 6 Ancient Christmas Carols, with the tunes to which they were formerly sung in the West of England/ This is a laudable and successful effort to rescue from oblivion some carol melodies, which in a few years will be no more heard. Mr. Davies says, that ‘ on Christmas- day these carols took the place of psalms in all the churches, es- pecially at afternoon service, the whole congregation joining; and at the end it was usual for the Parish Clerk, to declare in a loud voice, his wishes tor a merry Christmas and a happy new year. A sentiment similar to that of the parish clerk’s in the West of England, was expressed last year in a way that leaves little doubt of its former general adoption at the same season. Just before Christmas day, I was awakened in London at the dead of night, by the playing of the waits : on the conclusion of their so- lemn tunes, one of the performers exclaimed aloud, ‘ God bless you, my masters and mistresses, a merry Christmas to you, and a happy new year/ 107 IY. ENGRAVINGS OF APOCRYPHAL NEW TESTAMENT SUBJECTS. Pictures by the best masters, prints by the early engravers, woodcuts in early black letter and block-books, and illuminations of missals and monastic MSS. receive immediate elucidation on reference to the Apocry- phal New Testament, and are without explanation from any other source. Apoc. N. Test. Pref. J 1 he following is a List of Prints in my own possession, founded ou subjects in the Apocryphal New Testament. The passages to which they refer are inserted before the descriptions. Several of these engravings illustrate scenes in the preceding Mysteries. I. The Meeting of Joachim and Anne at the Golden Gate of Jerusalem. Mary , ii. — 1. The angel of the Lord stood by Joachim with a prodigious light. 2. To whom being troubled at the appearance, the angel who had appeared to him endeavouring to compose him said ?— — 9. Anna your wife shall bring you a daughter, and you shall call her name Mary. 10. She shall according to your vow be devoted to the Lord from her infancy, and be filled with the Holy Ghost from her mother’s womb. 13. And this shall be a sign to you of the things which I declare, namely, when you come to the golden gate of Jerusalem , you shall there meet your wife Anna. iii, 1. Afterwards the angel appeared to Anna his wife, saying, 2. A daughter shall be born unto you, &c. 6. Arise, therefore, and go up to Jerusalem, and when you shall come to that which is called the golden gate, as a sign of what I have told you, you shall meet your husband , for whose safety you have been so much con- cerned. Joachim and Anne meeting at the gate, and embracing. Men conversing and looking on. An engraving on wood by Albert Durer — half sheet. 108 II. The Birth of the Virgin Mary. Mary , iii. — 11. f So Anna conceived and brought forth a daughter. Protevangelion . — 6. And when nine months were fulfilled to Anna, she brought forth, and said to the midwife, what have I brought forth ? 7. And she told her, a girl. 1. In the back-ground Anne in bed; an angel above, censing, two women administering drink and food to her ; in the foreground a woman seated, washing the infant; nine other women in the room, drinking and talking with a child. An engraving on w r ood, by Albert Durer — half sheet. 2. Anne in bed waited on by a female; her husband Joachim eated by the bedside ; God as an old man in the clouds, with the world in his hand, attended by angels ; women dressing the infant, preparing the cradle, airing linen, &c. Engraved after B. Spranger , 1584 — large upright sheet. III. The Virgin Mary Miraculously ascending the Steps of the Temple. Mary iv. — 1. And when three years were expired, and the time of her weaning complete, they brought the Virgin to the temple with their offerings. 4. And they put her upon one of the stairs. 6. In the meantime the Virgin of the Lord in such a manner went up all the stairs one after another , without the help of any one to lead her or lift her, that any one would have judged from hence that she was of perfect age. Mary ascending the steps of the temple ; the priests waiting at the door above to receive her ; J oachim and Anna in the crowd below; Receivers of the offerings counting money, &c. An en- graving on wood, by Albert Durer — half sheet. IV. Joseph’s miraculous budded Rod. Mary , v. — 16. Then according to this prophecy the high-priest appointed that all men of the house and family of David who were marriageable, and not married, should bring their several rods to the altar. 17. — And out of whatsoever person's rod after it was brought , a flower should bud forth , and on the top of it the Spirit of the Lord should sit in. the appearance of a dove, he should be the man to whom the Virgin should be given and be betrothed . 109 Protevangelion, viii. — 11. And behold a dove proceeded out of the rod , and flew upon the head of Joseph. 12. And the high-priest said, Joseph, Thou art the person chosen to take the virgin of the Lord. 1. An interior — the birth-place of Christ; Joseph, with his budded rod; offerings being presented, &c. Engraved by Jac. Frey , after Sebast. Conca — large sheet. 2. Jesus in the Virgin’s lap holding Joseph's budded rod in both hands ; theVirgin attracting his attention from it by showing him a flower. Engraved by Joseph Juster , after Leonardi da Vinci — * folio. 3. Joseph seated with his budded rod in his lap, reading a scroll. Engraved by A. A. Morel , after Wicar — quarto. 4. Joseph ivith his budded rod in his right hand, holding the child on his left arm. An oval engraving, octavo size, with square border for illumination, published at Paris by Gautier , 1818. V. Christ's Birth in a Cave. Protevangelion , xiv. — Then a bright cloud overshadowed the cave. 1 Infancy , i. — 10. And behold it was all filled with lights greater than the lights of lamps and candles, and greater than the light of the sun itself. T hebirth of Christ in the cave , a great light from the infant ; Angels adoring him, others in a cloud above praying and praising. Engraved by Wierix — small folio. VI. Fall of the Idol in Egypt. Infancy , iv. — 6 . And now he drew near to a great city in which ther was an idol. — 13. And at the same instant the idol fell down, and at his fall all the inhabitants of Egypt, besides others, ran together. 1. The flight into Egypt, an idol falling from a bracket attached to a tree. Engraved by John Sadler , after M. De Vos — smal folio. 2. The same subject. Engraved by A, Wierix — small 12mo VII. Flight of the Robbers. 1 Infancy , v.— 3. They went therefore hence to the secret place of robbers who robbed travellers, as they pass by, of their carriages 15 110 and their clothes, and carry them away bound.— 4. These thieves upon their coming heard a great noise, such as the noise of a king with a great army, and many horse, and the trumpets sounding, at his departure from his own city ; at which they were so affrighted as to leave all their booty behind them t andjiy away in haste . The arrival of the Holy Family, and the flight of the robbers . An etching by Castiglione. VIII. The Virgin Mary washing Christ’s Clothes. 1 Infancy viii. 9. Hence they went to that sycamore tree which is now called Matarea.— — 10. And in Matarea the Lord Jesus caused a well to spring forth in which St. Mary washed his coat. -11. And a balsam is produced (or grows) in that country, from the sweat which ran down there from the Lord Jesus. 1. Mary on her knees washing linen at a spring-heaa , and Christ taking it to Joseph, who hands it to two angels in a tree to hang up to dry. Engraved by Vallet, from Albano — a large sheet. 2. Another by Benoist, from tjie same picture; rather smallei. 3. An Orleans Gallery print by Couche , from the same. IX Joseph carpentering — Christ assisting him. 1 Infancy , xvi. — And Joseph, wheresover he went into the city, took the Lord Jesus with him where he was sent for to make gates, or milk pails, or sieves or boxes, 1 . The infant in the cradle, Mary spinning from a distaff; full grown angels attending them. Joseph working with his hatchet at a bench ; little angels raking together and picking up his chips, and putting them in a basket. An engraving on wood, by JLlbe rl Burer. 2. Joseph working at a bench for the building of a church or monastery ; an archangel directing the work ; angels carrying the boards, and flying up to the steeple with large beams ; the Virgin seated, rolling a swathe on a table with the child in her arms ; an angel airing a napkin at the fire, others in the clouds with music_ books singing. Engraved by J. Sadler , after Fred . Sastris. — small folio, breadthways. Ill 3. The same subject; reversed, by R , Sadler 4. The Virgin seated with the child sleeping in her arms ; an angel making up his bed in the cradle; another airing his napkin at the fire-place : Joseph leaning over the back of her chair, with a chisel in his right, and a mallet in his left hand. Engraved by Vander Does , after Guellinus — folio. 5 Joseph at his carpenter’s bench chiselling wood ; Christ standing at the end holding a lamp for him to see by ; the Virgin behind Engraved by Coelemans, after Bigot— quarto. 6. Joseph at the work-bench making a clialk-line on a board ; Christ holding one end of the line, and Joseph the other ; the Virgin seated with work in her lap; Joseph’s budded rod in a vase. A large engraving by J. Pesne , after An. Caracci . 7. Joseph planeing in a room ; the Virging sewing; Christ sweeping the shavings together with a broom. A small oval en- graving, with Latin letter-press beneath, from a foreign devo- tional book. 8. f Jesu Christi Dei Domini Salvatoris nri InfantiaJ This is a set of small plates beautifully engraved by Jerome Wierix : among them are the following subjects : 1. Joseph in a room driving a wooden pin into the doorsill ; Christ sweeping up chips, and angels carrying them to Mary, who is at the fire cooking in a skillet. 2. Joseph and an angel driving nails into the frame-work of a building ; Christ with a large augur boring a hole in a plank; Maiy reeling thread. 3. Joseph chipping a log ; Christ and angels picking up the chips ; Mary reeling thread. 4. Joseph finishing the roof of a house; Christ carrying a plank up a ladder; Mary comb- ing flax. 5. Joseph building a boat ; Christ caulking it, assisted b, angels; Mary knitting. 6. Joseph driving posts into the ground; Christ nailing the rails, attended by angels. 7. Joseph and Christ sawing across the trunk of a tree on the ground ; an angel sitting on each end to steady it ; Mary at a spinning wheel. 8. Joseph and Christ sawing into planks a large beam, which is elevated on a scaffold; Christ holding the saw, on the beam above, as the 1 5 112 topsman; Joseph pulling below; angels lifting wood, anil Mary spinning. A Volume that I have, entitled the f dSffetk fost/t sus» TebtttJ* contains Apoc. N. Test, subjects, with engravings on wood, coloured. 1. A cut that occupies the whole of page 14, at the top, in one corner, represents Issachar reproaching Joachim for being without issue, and returning him his offerings ; in the other corner the angel comforts Joachim, and appoints him to meet his wife Anne at the Golden Gate ; below, the angel consoles Anne^ and tells her that she shall be no longer barren ; in the other lower corner appears the gate, with Joachim and Anne embracing. 2. On page 15, is a cut of the Virgin at three years old, walking up the fifteen steps of the temple to the astonishment of the priests. 3. A cut on page 16, represents the men of the house of David with rods, standing beside the altar in the temple ; the priest before it talking to Joseph, whose rod has blossomed, with the Holy Ghost as a dove sitting upon its top. 4. A cut of the flight into Egypt, is on page 43, with two idols falling from their pillars before Christ and the Virgin. Having concluded a brief notice of some of this class of prints in my possession, the following that I recollect to have seen may be added : viz. 1. The Nativity of Christ, with the two midwives pre- sent ; engraved by Ghisi — very large. 2. The marriage of Joseph and Mary, with Joseph's rod in flower , and the dove ; after a picture by Parmegiano. — 3. The same subject with Joseph's rod budding , and the Holy Ghost coming down as the dove , after JV*. Poussin. — 4. The same subject, Joseph's rod budding fyc. Jordano. — There are prints of Anne and Joachim her husband, in the English and foreign editions of the Golden Legend. Among the Harleian MSS. an inventory of furniture at the old royal palace of Greenwich, in the reign of Henry VIII. contains f a tablet of our Lady and St. Anne.* Gough in his account of the splendid Bedford Missal, men- * Folio, Breda, 1495. 113 tions several of its sumptuous drawings that are clearly Apoc. N. Test, subjects ; in particular, ‘ the angel announces to St. Anne, the nativity of our Lady, and that she should bear the mother of our Saviour.’* 2. St. Anne and Joachim present the Virgin Mary in the temple. 3. A representation of the idols falling in the flight into Egypt, f 4. Another of the same subject! Perhaps Mr. Gough’s account of a 1 man with the lily sceptre pursued by men with staves,’ § may be found to be Joseph with his budded rod, and the men of the house of David with their rods. It would weary the reader to enumerate similar illustrations- of these apocryphal snbjects. I shall therefore conclude by observing that in the Salisbury Missal of 1534, there is a prayer with a preface, stating that Pope Alexander VI. granted to all that said it devoutly in the worship of St. Anne, and our Lady and her son, ten thousand years of pardon for deadly sins, and twenty years for venial sins, ‘ to tiens quotiens ;’ also another prayer to be said before the image of Saint Anna, Maria, and Jesus, 4 of the whyche Raymund the cardiuall and legate hath granted a C days of pardon, tone's quotiens * Before these prayers is a whole length wood-cut portrait of Anne, with an emblazonment, on the front of her figure, of the Virgin Mary, with the child Jesus in her arms. In the back-ground the angel is appearing to Joachim, and Anne is meeting him at the Golden Gate. On the next page there is a smaller cut of Anne teaching the Virgin to read. Anne is represented in this way in Les Ceremonies de la St. Messe. The painters usually so occupy her. || * Account of the Bedford Missal, 1791; 4to. p. 78. f Ibid. p. 2G. t Ibid, p. 38. f Ibid, p. 28. || Ribadeneira in his Lives of the Saints, (fob 1730, vol. ii. p. 59.) says, ‘ We cannot say any thing greater for the glory of St. Anne, than to call her the mother of God, and grandmother of Jesus Christ. For it cannot be questioned, but that the same bountiful Lord hath fur- inislied, beautified, and ennobled her purest soul with all those treasures of virtues it was fitting she should be enriched and adorned with, who was to be the grandmother of the Son of God.’ The same author thus apostrophises Joachim her husband. 4 0, happy man, that was made worthy to give to God the Father, a most pure and holy daughter ; to 114 Cod the Son, an incomparable mother; to God the Holy Ghost, a most chaste spouse, and the rich cabinet of the holy Trinity.’ A tract licensed by the Doctors in Divinity of the Faculty of Paris, in 1643, f in order to maintain devotion to her,’ is entitled, ‘ The Prerogatives of St, Anne Mother of the Mother of God The Doctors in setting forth the sanctity of Anne, suppose that an eagle, preparing to make a nest, flies about to choose a tree surpassing all others in height and beauty, and makes choice of the strongest branch, and nearest heaven. Imagine, now, says the author, that God is this eagle, who running over with his eyes, all the women who were to be, from the first to the last, perceived not any one so worthy to receive the glorious virgin who was to be the little nest of the heavenly eaglet who is the word incarnate, as St. Anne, in whom he rested himself as in the tree of Paradise ; — so that God gave to her merits the glorious advantage of conceiving in her bowels a daughter, who merited the exalted dignity of becoming the mother of God, and effecting the re-establishment of the universe. Consequently in our need we must address ourselves by St. Anne to the Virgin, and by the Virgin to Jesus Christ, and by Jesus Christ to God his Father. By the imitation of her virtues we revere her sanctity, and God seeing that we have no present to approach his throne, his grandmother desires from the souls who bear her name, that their hearts be always replenished with grace. In the London Gazette, from Sept . 8 to Sept. 11, 1722, is the following entry : — ‘ Hanover, Sept. 7th, N.S. This day died in the 89th year of his age, M. Gerard Molan, Abbot of Lockumb, Primate of the States of this Dutchy, Director of the churches and clergy in the Electorate, Head of his Majesty’s ecclesiastical court, and council there, and a member of the English Society for the propagation of the Gospel in foreign parts. ‘ Notwithstanding.’ says the Gazette, ‘ his great age, he enjoyed till his last sickness a firm health, with a vigour of body and mind equal to his laborious employments. His great abilities, his prudence, integrity, and the indefatigable application, he shewed, in discharging the trust reposed in him, gained him the special favour of his sovereign, the love of those under his care, and the esteem of all that knew him. His pro- found learning, exemplary piety, and truly Christian moderation rendered him the ornament of the German Evangelick Clergy, so that liis loss is universally lamented.’ One of the trusts reposed in the Primate Molan, was that of ‘ Keeper of a noble collection of Relics f and one of his laborious employments , the drawing up of a Catalogue Kaisonnee in Latin of his precious charge. I have in my possession an English translation of this catalogue by a traveller, to whom he presented a Latin copy, and shewed the relics. The MS. contains an account of Two Relics of St. Arne, Mother of the most glorious Virgin Mary ; likewise a piece of her coat; also another piece of her coat ; and furthermore a great piece of her coat. In the same ‘noble collection,’ are two relics of St. Clement, two of St. Barnabas, and three of St. Hermas, whose writings are contained in the Apoc. N. Test. Their relics are accompanied by others of each of the twelve Apostles ; also three relics of St. John the Baptist, and one of his teeth; two relics of St. Thomas a Be-iket ; six relics of the eleven thousand 115 Virgins with three notable bones, and three great bones belonging to them; the shoulder-blade of St. George tho Martyr, a piece of his arm, one of his ribs, and a piece of his back ; an arm of St. Lawrence ; ‘ a thumb of St. Mark, from his body at Venice, which wants it,’ the claws of a crab belonging to St. Peter; two pieces of Aaron’s rod ; an entire arm of St. Bartholomew ; an arm of St. Mary Magdalen, and a piece of her head ; some oil from the breast of the Virgin ; some of her hair ; several other relics of her, and a piece of her mbstone ; two pieces of the table at which Christ supped ; some of the ointment he was anointed with ; three pieces of the pillar at which he Was scourged ; two thorns from his crown ; nine pieces of his cross ; some of his blood ; and his handkerchief. These relics of St. Anne, and the rest I have mentioned, with a multitude of others, are the ancestral property of His present Majesty king George the Fourth. The MS. says, that ‘ this is most certain, that all travellers, that have been in all parts of the world, and come to Hanover and seen these relics, with one voice confess that so vast a treasure of most valuable relics, so finely adorned, is hardly to be seen, or indeed not at all to be seen together in any one place whatever — and they are now preserved in the Electoral Chapel, and readily and willingly shewn to all that desire to see them.’ Joachim, on his festival in the old Roman Missal, is thus addressed, O Joachim, husband of St. Anne, and father of the Blessed Virgin, from hence bestow saving help on thy servants.’ The last of some Latin verses in the same service is thus translated by Bp. Patrick, (Devot. of Rom. Ch. p. 396.) And now thou’rt placed among the blest so high, Thou canst do every thing thou art inclined to ; Thy nephew, Jesus, sure will not deny, Much less thy daughter, what thou hast a mind to. Anne, his wife, was also supplicated for the remission of sin, and honoured with hymns, and other devotions. She is spoken of by English writers with great respect. In ‘ the new Nothorune mayde upo ’ the passio ' of cryste,’ (imprynted at London by John Skot, 12mo. ;) a rare poem,* occasioned by the old ballad of the Not-browne Mayde, in Arnold’s Chronicle, 1521, (of which latter, Prior’s Nuibrown Maid, is an altered version,) Anne is honoured, by .the author making Christ himself mention her, in answer to one of Mary’s expostulations in behalf of mankind ; Lo, thus, good mayde The daughter of Saynt Anne, Man hate exylede From hym your chylde, Kyght as a banysshed man. That Anne was in good estimation may be well imagined from there being in London, four churches dedicated to her, besides upwards of thirty thoroughfares in the metropolis called by her name. In the 116 Calendar to the Catholie Church Service, (Laity's Directory , 1822,) her birth-day the 26th of July, is marked as a high festival of devotion. The Weddiny-Ring of Joachim and Anne has also had its due share of respect, for it was kegt by the nuns of St. Anne at Rome, and worked miracles. It was stolen during the sacking of that city under the pontificate of Clement VII, but was wonderfully brought back and laid upon a stone by a crow. An account of the honours to the Virgin Mary, would exceed the limits of this volume. Some notion of it may be formed from the fact, that upwards of three thousand different engravings of her were in the Collection of Prints, made by the Abbe Marolles. The miracles she is recorded to have worked are almost innumerable. 4 At one time they make her come down from heaven, to support an arch thief at the gallows, who was hanged for his rogueries, but was withal a great devotee of her’s ; at another, she comes to darn Thomas of Canterbury’s coat, which happened to be torn upon the shoulders ; then she is at the pains of wiping the sweat from the faces of the Monks of Clairvaux, while they are at work ; at another time she discharges the duty of a certain abbess who was rambling up and down the country with a monk who had debauched her ; she sings matins for a monk who had asked her to sup- ply his place ! and they even make her come down to let a young fellow blood.’ — (Conform, bet. Anc. and Mod. Cerem. p. 144.) The vene- ration in which she is held at this day may be gathered from a perusal of ‘ The Devotion and Office of the Sacred Heart of our Lord Jesus Christ, with its nature , origin , progress , fyc., including the Devotion to the Sacred Heart of the Blessed Virgin Mary,’ 11th edit, Keating and Co., 1816, 18mo.). Joseph the husband of Mary is also highly distinguished by wor- ship appointed to him. This appears from a recent devotional work, entitled, * Reflections on the prerogatives , power , and protection of St. Joseph, spouse of the Blessed Virgin Mary , with several devotions to the said most glorious Patriarch * (Keating, 1812, 18 mo.) Worship to Joseph was first assigned about 1370, in the reign of Pope Gregory XI. when a chapel being consecrated to. St. Joseph in the cathedral of Avignon, the pope placed his coat of arms about it in large escutcheons of stone. He increased the revenues of the canons, and ordained that the confraternity of Bachelors and sodality of Virgins belonging to it, in the procession on his festival, should carry in their hands posies of flowers emblematical of the fragrance of his virtues. 4 In our age,’ says the author, 4 devotion to him is universal throughout the habitable world : but why , says the modern critic, why were the glorious merits of St. Joseph so long concealed ? Why not generally made known to Christians before the fourteenth century ? The author answers that 4 true believers are to tremble at why s' and wherefores in divine government — it is unpardonable presumption to enter into the Omnipotent’s hidden secrets, and damnable curiosity to dive into his secret decrees.’ He observes that he cannot forbear remarking how unjust the common pencils . are to St. Joseph, by representing him as to age and features,- not becoming the foster-father of Jesus, and the spouse of Mary ; he says that in all probability the Son of God would not provide a husband to 117 his beloved mother, who had the least personal defect ; and that although he might be forty when the virgin was fourteen, yet he ought not to be so exposed as leaning on a staff, and so decripit as almost to be useless, when he was vigorous and able to work thirty years in serving the sacred family both at home and abroad. He adds, that St. Barnard thinks St. Joseph was the likeness of Mary, and that the learned Gerson affirms that the face of Jesus resembled the face of Joseph ; and he remarks, that, as ‘ It would be reviving the blasphemous heresy of stigmatised Cerinthus to assert, that Jesus was by nature the real son of Joseph, yet he must be looked on as his legitimate parent, and entitled in all things to the right of paternity except that of generation, which the eternal Father supplied, by infusing into the husband of Mary, a pater- nal love for her son Jesus. A child lawfully conceived in matrimony, may strictly call the husband father, which title the Holy Ghost honours St. Joseph with, by the mouth of the immaculate Virgin, your father and I have sought you sorrowing. (St. Luke, ii. 48.) Children reputed by common fame to belong to such a parent, or those who are adopted, have a right to inherit titles and patrimonies; much more Jesus who was born of Mary, Joseph’s wife ; for according to the improved axiom of the law, whatever grows in, or is built upon another's soil , belongs to the owner thereof.' The work has many accounts of miracles performed by Joseph ; the following may be quoted as an example — ‘ It is a matter of fact, that a person of quality having lost all his children by witch- craft a few days after their birth, was counselled by one who had too great an insight into that black and diabolical art, to name his next son Joseph; it was done, and the child lived to inherit his father’s estate and honour.’ There are also in this book, directions for choosing St. Jo- seph as a patron, with his office, litany, a hymn in his honour, his beads, seven prayers in honour of his seven dolours and seven joys, and other exercises. A prelude to one of the meditations is in these words : ‘ Ima- gine yourself to be in the temple of Jerusalem when the high-priest gave to Joseph the immaculate Virgin Mary, How the patriarch espoused her, by putting a ring upon her finger, with other ceremonies according to the written law, in token that he made her partaker of all his goods, and took her under his protection. — The Wedding-Ring of Mary and Joseph was of onyx or amethyst, wherein was discerned a representation of the flowers that budded on his rod. It was discovered in the year 996, in this way. Judith, the wife of Hugo, Marquess of Etruria, being a great lover of jewels, em- ployed one Ranerius, a skilful jeweller and lapidary of Clusium, to go to Rome to make purchases for her. There he formed an intimacy with a jeweller from Jerusalem, who, when Ranerius was about to return home, professed great affection, and offered him a ring as a pledge of friendship. Ranerius looking upon it as of little value, declined it with a slight com- pliment ; but the jeweller from the Holy Land bade him not contemn it, for it was the wedding-ring of Joseph and the blessed Virgin, and made him take it with an especial charge that it should not fall into the hands of a wicked person. Ranerius, still careless of what he said, threw it into a little chest with articles of inferior value, where it remained until his forgetfulness cost him dear : for when his son was only ten years old, (the number of years that his father disregarded the Virgin’s ring), the boy died and was carried to his burial* But, behold as the hearse went forward, on a sudden the dead child rose from the coffin, ordered the bearers to stop, and calling to his father, told him, that by favour of the 118 blessed Virgin he was come from heaven to tell him that as he had con- temned religion by concealing her most holy ring in a common heap, he must immediately send for it, and publicly produce it, that it might be openly venerated. The chest being brought and delivered into the son’s hand, he presently found the ring, although he had never seen it before ; then most reverently kissing it, and showing it to the spectators, they religiously adored it during the joyful pealing of the bells which rung ot their own accord; whereupon t ordering himself to be carried to the place where he desired to be buried, he delivered the ring to the curate of the parish, and then laying himself down in the coffin, he was inter- red. — This ring wrought mauy miracles : ivory ones touched with it worn by women in difficult labour relieved them ; an impression of it in wax, applied to the hip, removed the sciatica ; it cured diseases of the eyes, reconciled married people that quarrelled, and drove out devils. Five centuries afterwards, in 1473, the church of Musthiola, where it effected these wonders, becoming ruinous, the ring was deposited with a religious community of the Franciscans at Clusinm. One of the brethren of the order named Wintherus, a crafty German, and very wicked, having obtained from the magistrates an appointment to shew the ring, on a certain occasion after exhibiting it at the end of his ser- mon stooped down, as if he was putting it into the place provided for it, but instead of doing so he slipped it up his sleeve, and privily conveyed himself and the ring from the city across the water. All was well so far, but when he got into a neighbouring field it suddenly became dark, so that not knowing which way to go, but well knowing what was the matter, he hung the ring on a tree, and falling on the ground penitently confessed his sin to it, and promised to return to Clusium if it would dispel the darkness. On taking it down it emitted a great light which he took advantage of to travel to Perusia, where he sojourned with the Augustan friars till he determined on making another effort to carry it into Germany. He was again hindered by the darkness returning'. It infested him and the whole city for twenty days. Still he resolved not to return to Clusium, but told liis story in great confidence to his landlord, one Lucas Jordanus, who with great cunning represented to him his danger from the Clusiuns. and the benefits he would receive from the Perusians if he bestowed the ring on that city. Wintherus followed his advice. As soon as the ring was shown to the people the darkness dis- appeared, and Wintherus was well provided for in the house of the magistrate. Meanwhile the bishop of Clusium coming to Perusia, endea voured in vain to regain the relic. The city of Sena sent an ambassador to : ssist the claim of the Clusiuns; he was entertained by the Perusians with great respect, but they informed him that having used no sacrile- gious arts to obtain the blessed Virgin’s ring, they respected her too much to restore it to its owners; that they received it within their walls with as much respect as they would do the Ark of the Covenant, and would defend their holy prize by force of arms. The bereaved Clusians laid the case before Pope Sixtus IV., and the Perusians did the same. Wintherus was ordered by the Pope on the importunity of the Clusians, into closer confinement; but as the heat abated he passed a merry life in Perusia, and at his death the Franciscans and the canons of St. Lawrence dis- puted for the possession of his body. This honour was in the end obtained by the latter, in whose chapel he was buried before an altar dedicated to St. Joseph and the Virgin ; and a monument was erected by the Perusians to the ring- stealer’s memory, with an inscription which 119 acknowledged that the receivers were as much indebted to him for it as if it had been his own property and he had offered it of his own accord. In the pontificate of Innocent III. A.D. 1486, the arbitrament of the dispute was left to Cardinal Piccolominseas, who adjudged the relic to Perusia. The important decision was celebrated in that city by every imaginable expression of joy, and for the greater honour of the sacred ring a chapel was built for it in the church of St. Lawrence, with an inscription, informing the reader that there the untouched mother, the queen of heaven, and her spouse, were worshipped; that there in the sanctuary of her wedding ring, she lent a gracious ear to all prayers ; and, that he that gave the ring (Wintherus), defended it by his protec- tion. The pencil was called in to grace the more substantial labours of the architect. A curious picture represented the high priest in the temple of Jerusalem, taking Joseph and Mary by their hands to espouse them with the venerated ring ; one side cf the solemnity was graced by a band of virgins, the companions of Mary during her education; the other side was occupied by a company of young men, Joseph’s kinsmen of the house of David, holding their withered rods. The imagination of the artist employed one of these in breaking his own rod across his knee, as envious of Joseph’s, which by its miraculous budding, had ended the hopes of all who by the proclamation had become candidates for her hand. In addi- tion to this an altar was raised and dedicated to St. Joseph ; his statue was placed at its side; his birth-day was kept with great pomp ; a society of seculars called his Fraternity was instituted to serve in the chapel jointly with the clergy of St. Lawrence; and on the joint festival of the Virgin and her spouse, the splendid selemnity was heightened by the solemn exhibition of their ring, and by the picture of their miraculous nuptials being uncovered to the eager gaze of the adoring multitude. — J3p. Patrick's Devot. of Rom. Ch. p. 48. The miracles of the wedding ring of Joseph and Mary were trifling in comparison to its miraculous powers of multiplying itself. It existed in different churches of Europe at the same time, and each ring being a genuine as the other, each was paid the same honours by the devout. 120 V. THE DESCENT INTO HELL. ‘ Mr. Warton, wlio smiles at the idea of their having anciently com- mitted to the blacksmiths the handling of the Purification, an old play so called, would have have had still greater reason, could he have assigued with truth to the company of taylors the Descent into HelV Ilev. John Brand, Hist, of Newcastle, v. ii. p. 370. n. The Coventry Mystery of Christ’s Descent into Hell, consists of only six verses ;* in one of which Christ expresses his determination to release the souls ' from the eindery cell.’ Such brevity was occasioned, perhaps, by the subject being very hacknied. But the Chester Mystery of the same subjectf is a tedious paraphrase of circumstances in the Gospel of Nicodemus;t to which is added in one of the copies § by way of epilogue, the lamentation of a cheating Chester alewife, on being compelled to take up her abode with the devils; one of whom she endeavours to wheedle by calling him her * sweet Mr. Sir Sathanas,’ from whom she receives the compliment of being called his i dear darling.’ In strictness, the prints that 1 have, which illustrate this event, should have been described with the other engravings from Apo- cryphal New Testament story, but it seemed better to connect them with other particulars on the same subject ; and accordingly * Cotton MS. Pageant xxxiii. f Harl. MS. 2124. X Apoc. N. Test. Nicodemus , xiii. 14. to xx. 14. — -The Gospel of Nico- demus in Anglo-Saxon, by HUlfric Abbot, of St. Albans, in the year 9o0, with fragments of the Old Testament in the same language, was pub- lished by Dr. Ilickes at Oxford, in 1698.— Lewis's Hist, of Transl. of the Bible , p. 8. i Harl. M. S. 2033 m they succeed the following extracts from the Apocryphal Gospel on which they are founded. Nicodemus, xii.— 3. In the depth of hell in the blackness of darkness, on a sudden there appeared the colour of the sun like gold, and a substantial purple coloured light, enlightening the place. xt.— 1. While all the saints of hell were rejoicing, behold Satan the prince and captain of death, said to the prince of hell. — 2. Prepare to receive Jesus of Nazareth himself, who boasted that he was the Son of God, and yet was a man afraid of death, and said my soul is sorrowful even to death. xvi. — 19. The mighty Lord appeared in the form of a man.— — 20. And with his invincible power visited those who sat in the deep darkness by iniquity, and the shadow of death by sin. xvii. 13. Then the king of glory, trampling upon death, seized the prince of hell, deprived him of all his power, xix. — 12. And taking hold of Adam by his right hand, he ascended from hell, and all the saints of God followed him. Engravings, 1. A landscape with a view of the earth beneath, containing a semi-section of hell, which is a globe divided into four parts: 1. The devil sitting on the body of Judas in the centre, surrounded by a body of fire containing the damned in torment. 2 , The compart- ment surrounding the centre is the flame of purgatory, with its in habitants. 3. The next circle is the limbo of infants whose heat seems to be less fierce. 4. The outer circle is the limbo of the Fathers to which Christ has penetrated from his grave, with a banner surrounded by a light cloud filled with angels. Engraved by Ant Wierix , after B. Pass — small folio. 2. Christ within the porch of hell bearing a banner in his left hand; Adam who holds the cross of wood, with Eve and a crowd of others are behind him ; he is stooping down to receive persons who are grasping his right hand from a dark entrance; a furious devil is striking at him with the end of a pointed staff, from a square hole above; hell-gates lie broken on the ground, while a demon flying in the air blows a horn. A fine engraving on wood by Albert Barer 1510— small folio, 3. The same subject varied a little. An engraving on copper by A. Purer — small squar quarto. 122 4. The same subject further varied. Engraved by A . Durer 1512, duodecimo. 5. The same subject more varied. Engraved by Jerome Wierix small. G. Christ bursting hell gates ; a devil throwing stones at him from the battlement — a very early engraving on wood, before the time of Wolgemuth. 7. A devil holding up the broken gate with his left arm, and beating back Adam and Eve with a large splinter of wood in his right hand to prevent their escape. Engraved by Martin Sckoen. The ' Pilgremage of the sowle,’ a spiritual romance with beauties that delighted our forefathers, was printed by Caxton, in 1483. I have a MS. in French from which Caxtou’s work is translated, with fifty-six coloured drawings interspersed by the amanuensis, three of which are entire sections of the subterranean hell, divided into com- partments, conformably to the print by Wierix. This arrangement of hell is attributed to Cardinal Bellarmine, but the Cardinal only repeated what had been previously described ; for my MS was written in tb e year 1435, a century before the Cardinal was born. From an appro- priation of punishmen to the seven deadly sins, it has sometimes been supposed that hell has been divided into as many compartments. The goldsmiths Baldini and Boticelli, very early, if not the earliest engravers, executed a print wherein the damned are represented in separate places of torment which resemble ovens, each inscribed with a particular vice ;* and Erasmus mentions certain divines who make as many divisions in hell and purgatory, and describe as many different sorts and degrees of punishment as if they were very well acquainted with the soil and situation of these infernaj regions. f But to return from this excursion: I would observe that in the * Boec/i van Jhesus leven ,’§ there is a Wood engraving of the * Landseer’s Lectures on Engraving, p. 251. f Erasmus’s Praise of Folly, 12mo. 1724, p„ 10& 2 Mentioned at p. 12. 123 Descent into Hell, representing Christ standing with his banner in front of hell, its gates off the hinges, and Adam and Eve with other souls praying to him for their release : by the side of ibis cut the devil is depicted on his knees with his claws folded across his breast, and bending in a posture of supplication. There are also wood cuts of this subject in two editions of the * Biblia Pauperum,’ a block book ; and another in the * Speculum Humanae Salvationis,’ besides others in works of almost equal curiosity, whose titles escape my recollection. It seems that there was formerly in Canterbury cathedral a painted glass window of ‘ Christus spoliat Infernum/* Probably it was put up as a suitable illustration to the Gospel of Nicodemus which Erasmus, when he visited England, saw chained to the pillars of that cathedral for the edification of the visitors. f The ancients represented Christ like a mighty champion entering the territories of hell, and fighting for the space of three days with the devil till he had broken the strength of his malice, and quite destroyed nis power and force, and brought with him the holy souls he desired to release.;}; Bernardinus de Bustis in his seventeenth sermon on theRosary printed at Hagenaw in 1850, affirms, that the hole wherein the cross stood went down into limbus, a horrible prison, where the fathers were near to the horrible devils under the earth, and chat the blood of Christ descended thereby, which when they felt they rejoiced, and then appeared the soul of Christ which illuminated the whole place ; he saluted them, shook them by the hand, blessed them, and drew them out. || The concluding scene has been usually selected by the artist for the exercise of his pencil. The Gospel of Nicodemus seems to have been the principal source from whence poets and painters of former times described the Descent into Hell. Belief in the event may be traced so far back as the second century. Though the various * Ornaments of Churches Considered, 4to. appendix, p. 8, + Erasmus’s Colloquies by Baily, 8vo. 1725, p. 354. J King’s History of the Apostles 5 Creed, 8vo. 1737, p. 223. || Carlil on the Descent of Christ, 12mo. 1582, p. 98. 124 modifications that belief has undergone, rather belongs to theological nquiry, and would encumber mine, yet I propose to lay before the reader a few references concerning its antiquity and adaptation to popular understanding. The Vision of Peirs Ploughman, a poem, written according to Warton, about 1384, but according to Dr. Whitaker about 1362, and ascribed to Robert Langland, a secular priest in the county of Salop, was first printed in 1553, and lastly from a MS. contemporary with the author in 1813.* This ancient work contains an elaborate description of Christ’s descent into hell, which on comparison will be found to have been taken from the Gospel of Nicodemus : some extracts are annexed with their paraphrase in modern English prose subjoined. * Wiche a light and wich. a leom lay by fore belle. ’+ What a light and a gleam appeared in the front of hell ! * Lo helle myghte nat holde bote openede tho God tholede And let out Symonde's sones.’J Lo y hell could not contain hut opened to those who awaited God , and let out the sons of Simeon. (Nicodemus, xiii, 13, &c.) * Aitolite portas principes vestras, elevamini porte eternales, &c, A voys loude in that light to Lucifer seido Princes of this palys un do the gates, For here cometh with coronne the kynge of alle glorie. Then syhede Satan, and seide — 1| ‘ Lift up your great gates , and ye everlasting doors he ye opened In that light a voice cried aloud to Lucifer : Princes of this palace open the gates, for here cometh with his crown the King of glory. Then Satan groaned and said , ( Ac rys up Ragamoffyn. and reche mo alle the barres Ar we throw bryghtnesse be blent, bane W’e the gates Cheke we and cheyne we. and eche cliyne stoppe And thow Astrot hot out. and have oute knaves Coltyng and al hus kynne. our catel to save Brynston boilaunt brenning. out casteth hit * The Vision of Peirs Ploughman, by Dr. T. D. Whitaker, 1813., 4to f Ibid. p. 346. J Ibid. p. 353. |j Ibid. p. 85 4. 125 A1 hot in here heve des, tha^entren in ny the walles Setteth bowes of brake, a brasene gonnes And sheteth out shot e ynowb.’* Arise Ragamuffin and bring all the bars, before we are blinded with the brightness. Bar we now the gates, bolt we and chain we, and stop up every chink. And thou Astaroth go forth and muster the servants , Colting and all his kindred, to save our chattels. Cast boiling and burning brim- stone, all hot , upon their heads who shall enter within these walls. Set the steel bows, and brazen guns, and shoot out shot in plenty. *Yf he re vo me of my ryght. he robbeth me by mastrie For by ryght and reson. the reukes that beon here Body and soule beth myne. bothe good and ille For he hyms self hit seide. that syre is of helle That Adam and Eve. and al hus issue Sholden deye with deol. and here dwelle evere Yf thei touchede a treo. other toke ther of an appel Thus thees lorde of light such a lawe made And sutthe he is so leel a lord, ich leyve that he wol nat Reven ous of oure ryght. sutthe reson hem dampned And sutthe we han be seosed. sevene thowsend wynt.’f If he bereave me of my right, he shall rob me by force ; since by right and reason the rooks that are here are mine , body and soul , good and bad. for he himself who is Lord of hell said, that Adam and Eve and all their issue should die with sorrow, and dwell here for ever if they touched a tree, or took an apple therefrom. Thus this Lord of light made such a law, and since he is a Lord of truth, I believe that he will not deprive us of our right because they are rightfully damned, and because we have been seized of them seven thousand years. ‘ What lord ert thu quath Lucifer, a voys a loud seyde The lord of myght and of man. that made all thynges Duke of this dymne place, a non undo the gates That Crist nowe comen in. the kynges sone of hevene And with that breth helle brake, with alle Beliales barres For eny wye other warde. wyde openede ze gates. ’J What Lord art thou ? said Lucifer. A voice cried aloud, the Lord of power and of man, who made all things , the ruler of this dark place , open the gates forthwith , that Christ the son of the King of heaven may come in. And, with that breath hell burst , and all Belial's bars, notwithstanding the guard, the gates few wide open. ‘Lo me her quath our lorde. lyf and soule bothe For alle synful soules. to save oure bey ere ryght.’ || Behold me here quoth our Lord, both life and soul for all sinners to save our brethren. Ibid. p. .354. f Ibid. p. 358. t Ibid. p. 358. || Ibid. p. S59. 126 • For the lcsynge that thow Lucifer, lowe til Eve. Thow shalt abygge bitere quath God. and bond hym with cheynea Astrott and alleo there, hudden hem in heornes Thei dorst nat loken on oure Lorde. the leste of hem alle Bote leot hym leden forth wich hym luste. and lere wiche him lykede ** For the falsehoods wherewith thou Lucifer liedst unto Eve , thou shalt abide crushed, quoth God ; and he bound him with chains. Astorath and the rest hid themselves in droves. The most distant of them all durst not look on Christ , but let him take away whom he desired, and leave whom he pleased. A volume in the British Museum* containing a collection of MS. Poems, dated the 34th year of K. Henry VI. (about 1456), preserves poem entituled, What Chryst hath done for us; wherein Christ says. To belle I went this chartre to schewe, Before thy fo Sathanas, that schrewe ; He was schent, and brought to grounde, Thorow maylys bore, and sperys wounde ; A charter com’an made was Bytwene me and Sathanas, All my catel to have away That he me reft In the same volume Our Lady's Sony of the Chyld that soked r brest , relates that after the death of Christ, Then to helle he toke ye way Wt woundys wyde & all bloody ; Ye foule fendys to affray Wt hym he bar ye cros of tre. Helle gatys full opyn to put fre When my sone wyth hond hem blest, Ye fendys roryd \vhen they hym se : — Ye chyld ys resyn that soke my brest. Adam & Eve wyth hym he take, Kyng Davyd, Moyses, & Salamon ; And haryed hell every noke, Wythyn hyt left he soulys non, But fendys yn hyt to dwelle allon Lucyfer ther hard he prest * Ibid. p. 363. \ Harl. MB 6393. 127 Theryu to byde as stylle as ston The chyld is resyn that soke my brest Thus ’comyfte he the fendys fele, And toke hys pray that he had boght ; * And put hym yn to endles wele, — Ther joye & blys fayles nognt. The Worlde and the Cliylde , a Morality printed in 1522, men., tions the release of the souls. Perseverance, one of the dramatis personae, rehearsing f the xii. Artycles of the fayth,* says. The fyfth artycle I shall yo tell ; Than the spryghte of godhed went to hell, And brough’ ut the soules that there dyde dwell By the power of his own myght. In the articles of. Pierce Ploughmans Crede * an old production, but not so old as the Vision , it is rehearsed that Christ was crucified. And sythen his blessed body was in a stone byried And descended a doun to the derk helle And fet out our formfaders, William Dunbar’s Resurrection of Chryste, f a Poem in the Bannatyne MS. 1568, begins — Done is a battell on the dragon blak, Our campioun Chryst confoundit hes his force, The yettis of hell ar brokin with a crak, The signe triumphall rasit is of the croce ; The divillis trymmillis with hiddous voce, The saulis ar borrowit, and to the bliss can go, Chryst with his blud our ransoms dois indoce ; Surrexit Dominus de sepulchro. * • • The fo is chasit, the battell is done ceis, The presone brokin, the jevellours fleit and flemit ; The weir is gon, confermit is the peis, The fetteris lowsit, and the dungeon temit, &c. Pierce the Ploughman’s Crede was first printed in 1553, Ancient Scottish Poems, 12mo. Edinb. 1770, p. 85. 128 Corbet, in his witty Itinerary of Foure Clerkes of Oxford, doctours two, and two That would be docters, laments the secularization of church appurtenances at Banbury by the puritans, who he describes as, —-They which tell That Christ hath nere descended into hell, But to the grave.* Not to trouble the reader with further poetical recognitions of this subject, he is presented with a few opinions more gravely delivered by persons of higher authority in other respects, and some of them living in the earliest ages. John Boys, dean of Canterbury, where he died in 1625, says in one of his sermons, that, ' hell is under the earth and twofold ; namely, 1. The pit of the dead or the grave which is upper hell . 2. The pit of the damned, which is the nethermost hell; and that Christ descended into the nethermost hell where sinners are punished eternally , not to suffer any punishment, but as a conqueror to triumph over death and the devil in their own kingdoms.’f Bishop Latimer in a sermon before King Edward VI. says, * I offer it unto you to consider and weigh it, there be some great clerks that take my part, and I perceive not what evil can come of it, in saying, that our Saviour Christ not only m soul descended into hell, hut also he suffered in hell such pains as the damned spirits did suffer there. Surely I believe verily, for my part, that he suffered the pains of hell proportionally, as it correspondeth and answereth to the whole sin of the world. He would not suffer only bodilv in the garden and upon the cross, but also in his soul, when it was from the body, which was a pain due for our sin. Some write so, and I can * Corbet’s Poems by Gilchrist, p. 202. Richard Corbet was succes- sively chaplain to James I., dean of Christchurch, Bishop of Oxford* and Bishop of Norwich : he died in 1632. f Boys’s Postils, fol. 1629. p. 956. 129 believe it, that he suffered in the very plaee, and I cannot tell what it is, call it what ye will, even in the scalding house, in the uglisomeness of the place, in the presence of the place, such pains as our capacity cannot attain unto.” Calvin held the opinion that the soul of Christ in the descent into hell, really suffered the pains of the damned , and that those which are saved by his death should have endured in hell the tor- ments of the damned, but that he being their surety, suffered those torments for them.f Augustine, a father of the church in the 4 th and 6th cen- tury , says, that he could not find where the habitation of the souls of the just is in Scripture called hell; that he never met with the word 4 Hell’ used in a good sense in the canonical Scrip- ture; that it is probable there were two hells divided by the great gulph, one where the just were at peace; the other where the souls were tormented ; that the ancient saints were in a place ~emote from torment, yet that they were in hell till the blood of Christ , and his descent thither , delivered them; and that since that time the souls of believers go to hell no more * Jerome, a father of the cliureh in the 4 th century , affirms that the blood of Christ quenched the flaming sword at the en- trance of paradise, that the thief entered it with Christ, followed by the souls of all the saints who had been before detained in hell ; and that the souls of all good men do now instantly pass to paradise upon their dissolution^ Athanasius a father of the church in the kth centuay , has a piece attributed to him by some, but denied by others, which enjoins tho reader to remember the twelfth hour, for in that our Saviour descended into hell; hell shuddered in beholding him, and cried aloud, who is he that cometh with great power P who is he that trampleth on the brazen portals of hell, and un- bindeth the chain of my captives ? || Bishop Pearson says that * Latimer’s Sermons, 4to. 1635, p. 86. f Pearson on the Creed, fob 1741, p. 231. t King on the Creed, p. 211. \ Ibid. p. 210. j) Hayley’s Essay on Old Maids, v. ii. p. 195. 130 Athanasius , speaking of Christ triumphing over Satan, mentions hell spoiled , to wit, of those souls which f before , it kept in hold .* Epiphanius, a father of the church in the 4th century , writes that the soul of Christ descended into the nethermost parts where Death and Hell being ignorant of his divinity, assaulted his soul ; that he broke the sting of death, rent in sunder the ada- mantine bars, loosed the bonds of hell, and brought from thence some of the captive souls, as a pledge to those he left behind, that they should arrive unto the same liberty, f Origen and Ambrose, fathers of the church in the 3rd century , were of opinion, that before the death of Christ the souls of the patriarchs went to hell, where they remained in joy and happiness till the separated soul of Christ descended into those infernal regions, and breaking the bonds thereof, freed the captives and led them into heaven , whither the souls of all be- lievers do now instantly go. X Clement Alexandiu-us, a father of the church in the 2nd century , was of opinion that Christ descended down into hell to preach the Gospel to the departed souls, and that he saved many of them, that is, all that believed; and that the apostles also after their death descended likewise into the same place, and for the same purpose. § Prudentius, a Christian Poet, who flourished in the fourth century, speaking of Christ’s resurrection, says, ‘I remember that a corporeal God easily came up again from Plegethon,’ the place wherein the souls are tormented. In another of his pieces he addresses Lasarus in these terms, ‘ Tell us whose voice you heard under the lowest places of the earth, and what force went through the hidden places where the dead make their abode . since when Christ recalled you, and ordered you to come forth from the black depth wherein you was, you heard as if you had been near. By what so neighbouring an abyss is the kingdom of * Pearson on Creed, p. 250. n. f King on the Creed, p. 223. J King on the Creed, p. 209. I Daille’s Right use of the Fathers, 4to. 1675, part ii. p. 67. 131 darkness almost joined with the upper parts of the earth ? where is the dismal Tenarus by which they go down through a vast ex- tent ? and that hidden river which rolls flames in its channel which nothing can fill P The same Poet speaking in one of his Hymn3 of Christ’s descent into the place of torment, relates that ‘ the spirits of the wicked, the night in which God came from the lakes of Acheron had some solemn releases from their torments, Tartarus languished with milder punishments ; the people of the shades free from fire, were glad to have some rest in their prison, and the rivers of brimstone did not boil as they were wont to do.’ From these citations it will appear that the descent of Christ into hell, and his carrying away the souls, is a most ancient doc- trine. In one thing all the Fathers agree, that hell is below the surface of the earth, and most of them suppose in its eentre, where the souls of the dead both good and bad await the final doom ; the good in a state of quiescence, the bad in a state of torment. They all likewise agree that Christ descended into hell, but there is a great diversity of opinion among them as to the part of hell Into which he descended. Some believe that Christ descended to the souls of those who died in the fear of God, and led them with him into heaven : some again think that the souls of the good are still in a subterranean place which they call Abraham’s bosom, where they are to stay till the day of resurrection ; others, who are of pinion that hell denotes rnily a place of torment, say, that Christ really descended into the place wher« the devils and wicked men are tormented, and they believe that he delivered the souls suffering punishment for their sins. Some again think that Christ released some only of those souls, others that he altogether emptied hell; and this was Cyril’s opinion, who assures us that when Christ was risen he left the devil alone in hell.f They who thought that hell was wholly emptied and every soul released from pain, were branded with the name of heretics ; but to be- lieve that many were delivered was both by them and many others * Le Clerc’s Lives, 8vo. 1696, p. 299, 303. * Ibid. p. 301. 132 counted orthodox. Augustine in his book of Heriaies reckons this as the seventy-ninth heresy , for Augistine was one of those Ivho held that the faithful before the death of Christ were with God and already happy, and needed no translation, and that the object of Christ’s descent into hell was to deliver some who were in torment , while others who were in that state he left.* Bishop Pearson thinks that for above five hundred years after Christ there were very few, if any, of those who believed that Christ delivered the saints from hell, who at the same time believed that he left all the damned there.* At the present time the schools deliver it as a point of faith and an infallible certainty that the soul of Christ descending into hell, delivered the souls ot all the saints, and conferred upon them actual beatitude. J Accord- ingly in the celebration of mass, the priest takes the cloth from the chalice to signify the removal of the stone from Christ’s tomb j immediately afterwards he elevates the host to signify Christ’s re- surrection ; and he then divides the host into two parts, one of which signifies the joy in heaven at the resurrection of Christ, and the other part signifies the joy of the fathers on their being deli vered. In a child’s book containing instructions for hearing mass, § the prayer directed to be said by the child at this part of the ser- vice, recites that Christ ‘ descended into limbo, and delivered thence the souls of the fathers till then detained there and the wood cut, over this prayer, represents the descent and the broken gates, Christ lifting out the souls, and the terror of the devils. It appears then that the descent into hell, has been perpetuated through all ages of the Catholic church in some form or other Addressed in former times to the meanest capacities of the igno- ront by dramatic representations, and by circumstantial relations from the Gospel of Nicodemus, through a variety of old works printed for religious instruction and devotional exercise, it is not • Pearson on the Creed, p. 241. f Ibid. p. 240. t Ibid. p. 245. $ Daily Exercises for Children, Keating, 1821, 24mo. p. 70. 133 wonderful that the bodily descent should have obtained popular belief. They who desire to inquire concerning the theological tenet, may consult the books I have cited with advantage, and especially what Bishop Pearson says in his Exposition of the Apostles’ Creed From that work, which is a storehouse of information upon the point, and Lord King’s History, Bishop Horsley seems to have obtained every fact and argument that he uses in his celebrated ser- mon on the descent. The Rev. William Crashaw, Preacher at the Temple Church, published in 1616 his * Clear Confession of the Christian Faith , according to the order of the Apostles Creed * wherein he says, * 1 also beleeue, that being vpon the same crosse, dying and yeelding vp his spirit vnto God bis father, hee descended into hell, that is to say» that he hath truly tasted and experimented the greatest distresse and dolours of death, together with the paines and flames of hell fire, that is to say, the fury, wrath, and seuere iudgement of God vpon him, as if bee had beene a man halfe damned because of the sinnes of the world, which he bare vpon him. See here that which I simply vnderstand by the descent of Christ into hel. Moreouer, I know that this article was not in the beginning, in the Creed, and that it was otherwise vnderstood and interpreted by diuers that adjudged Christ truly and indeed to haue descended into the place of the damned, alledging the text of Saint Peter, which I confess from my selfe to bee bidden for the present. — I neither beleeue nor confesse that there are any but two places in the other world, that is to say, paradise for ♦.he faithful and chosen with the angels, and hel for the vnfaithfull and reprobate with the diuells.’ Between Bishop Horsley’s sermon affirm- ing the subterranean descent of the soul of Christ, and this confession there is a wide difference. Carlil’s old treatise before quoted, is a learned and excellent exposition of the subject from the passage in Peter , with abundance of curious information : I much regret that limitation of room and apprehension that I have already too much diverged, will not suffer me to extract from it.* * As the Descent of Christ into bell to release the saints, is a doctrine 134 Catholic Church, so it prepares to celebrate his Ascension into heaven by Litanies and public processions during three days before Holy Thursday, the anniversary of that event. These are called Rogation days, in these processions the cross is borne, banners are carried, and the bells are rung to chase the fiends ; as they are also when it thunders, to abash and drive away the wicked spirits in the air that cause the tempest. The Golden Legend says, that the bearing of banners with the cross on Rogation days, is to represent the victory of Christ in his resurrection and ascension ; that the people followed the cross and the banners as Christ was followed when he ascended to heaven with a great prey; and that in some churches, especially in France, it was the custom to bear a dragon with a long tail filled with chaff : the first two days it was borne before the cross, with the tail full, but on the third day it was borne after the cross, with the tail empty ; by which it was understood that on the first two days the devil reigned in the world, but that on the third day he was dispossessed of his kingdom. In this procession it is clear that the devil was represented by the dragon. ‘There was war in heaven: Michael and his angels fought against the dragon ; and the great dragon was cast out, that old serpent called the devil. 1 (Rev. xii. 7, 9.) Sparke in his ‘ Primitive Devotion .’ (1673, 8vo. p. 565,) cites Augustine to show that Michael was allegorical of Christ, ‘ so that the meaning (of Rev xii.) is but briefly this, that Christ and his members fight against the devil and his.’ Seeing that the dragon in the ecclesiastical procession on Rogation days was made to allegorize the kingdom of Satan and its overthrow, 1 with much deference suggest for the consideration of antiqusu ies, who suppose that the dragon of the pageants is the dragon of St. George, whether, on the contrary, this figure may not be in truth the dragon of St. Michael, or in other words the devil. My notion is strengthened by the statement in the Golden Legend, that the dragon was at least as common to the Rogation processions abroad, as to those in England. But leaving this subject, I purpose a short discursion concerning Michael , the dragon’s conqueror. The author of the * Protest ant Beadsman ,’ (1822, p. 83.) observes, apparently from Sparkes’s Devotion, that Michael is noticed ‘ by St. Jude as fighting personally wiih the devil about the body of Moses and to this affixes as a note, that ‘ it has been plausibly conjectured that the body of Moses signifies the Mosaic law, as the body of Christ is often used for the Christian church ; and that the attempt of the devil which Michael resisted was to rebuild and restore the temple.’ Now concern- ing this passage in Jude, there is a difficulty which, it seems to me, had the author of the Protestant Beadsman been acquainted with, would have restrained him from attaching much importance to the signification that he supposes to be ‘ plausibly conjectured’ respecting the body of Moses; yet in adducing this difficulty I desire to be understood as wishing to avoid offence to a writer whose amenity bespeaks correspond- ing civility of demeanor ; nor is it produced withdhe slightest view to its defence, but simply as it is proposed elsewhere. The passage in Jude, (verse 9.) is in these words, ‘ Yet Michael the archangel when contending with the dev+l, he disputed about the body of 135 Noses, durst not bring against him a railing accusation , but said , The Lot d rebuke thee* Michaelis says, that the whole history of this dispute has the appearance of a Jewish fable, which it is not very easy at present to discover, because the book from which it is supposed to have been taken by the author of the epistle is no longer extant. Origen found the story of Michael’s dispnte with the devil about the body of Moses, in a Jewish Greek book called the Assumption of Moses , which was extant in his time though it is now lost, and he was thoroughly persuaded that Jude’s quotation was from it. In consequence of this he himself quoted another passage from the Assumption of Moses, as a work of authority, in proof of the temptation of Adam and Eve by the devil. The Jews imagined the person of Moses was so holy that God could find no reason for per- mitting him to die : and that nothing but the sin committed by Adam and Eve in Paradise, which brought death into the world, was the cause why Moses did not live for ever. Now, in the dispute between Michael and the devil about Moses, the devil was the accuser, and demanded the death of Moses. (Ecumenius has a passage which contains a part of the story related in the Assumption of Moses, and which explains the reason of the dispute concerning Moses’s body. According to this passage Michael was employed in burying Moses; but the devil endeavoured to prevent it by saying that he had murdered an Egyptian, and was there fore uuworthy cf an honourable burial. The ‘ Phetirath Mo she,' a Hebrew book written in a later age, contains a story which though pro- bably ancient, is not the same with that cited either by Origen or (Ecu menius, because the devil, Samael, does not dispute about the burial of Moses, nor does Michael reproach the devil with having possessed the serpent which seduced Eve, nor with saying to him, * The Lord rebuke thee ; but he himself rebukes the devil, and calls him * thou wicked wretch and Moses calls him the same. This is the reverse of that related in the Epistle concerning the dispute of Michael with the devil. Michaelis having thus expressed himself, proceeds to observe that the substance of the story related in this book, (the Phetirath Moshe,) as far as concerns the present inquiry, is as follows : ‘ Moses requests of God under various pretences, either that he may not die at all, or at least that he may not die before he comes into Palestine. This request he makes m so froward and petulant a manner, as is highly unbecoming not only a great prophet, but even any man, who has expectations of a better life after this. In short, Moses is here represented in the light of a despicable Jew, begging for a continuance of life, and devoid both of Christian faith, and of heathen courage : and it is therefore not improbable, that the inventor of this fable made himself the model, after which he formed the character of Moses. God argues, on the contrary, with great patience and forbearance, and replies to 13G what Moses had alleged relative to the merit of his own good work. Further, it is God who says to Moses that he must die on account of the sin of Adam : to which Moses answers, that he ought to be excepted, because he was superior in merit to Adam, Abraham, Isaac, &c. In the mean time, Samael, that is the angel of death, whom the Jews describe as the chief of the devils, rejoices at the approaching death of Moses. This is observed by Michael, who says to him, 4 Thou wicked wretch, I grieve, and thou laughest.’ Moses after his request had been repeatedly refused, invokes heaven and earth, and all the creatures around him, to intercede in his behalf. Joshua attempts to pray for him, but the devil stops his month, and represents to him, really in Scripture style, the impropriety of such a prayer. The elders of the people, and with them all the children of Israel then offer to intercede for Moses : but their mouths are likewise stopped by a million eight hundred and forty thousand devils, which on a moderate calculation make three devils to one man. After this, God commands the angel Gabriel, to fetch the soul of Moses: but Gabriel excuses himself, saying, that Moses was too strong for him. Michael receives the same order, and excuses himself in the same manner, or, as other accounts says, under pretence that he had been the instructor of Moses, and therefore could not bear to see him die. But this last excuse, according to the Phetirath Moshe, was made by Zingheilthe third angel, who received this command. Samael, that is, the devil, then offers his services ; but God asks him how he would take hold of Moses, whether by his mouth, or by his hands, or by his feet, saying that every part of Moses was too holy for him to touch. The devil, however, insists on bringing the soul of Moses : yet he does not accuse him, for, on the contrary, he prizes him higher than Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. The devil then approaches towards Moses to execute this voluntary commission : bnt as soon as he sees the shining countenance of Moses, ne # is seized with a violent pain, like that of a woman in labour.’ ‘ Michaelis continues to relate that 4 Moses instead of using the oriental salutation, 4 Peace be with thee,’ says to him in the words of Isaiah, ch. lvii. 21. (for in this work Moses frequently quotes Isaiah and the Psalms), 4 There is no peace to the wicked.’ The devil replies, that he was come by the order of God to fetch his soul : but Moses deters him from the attempt by representing his own strength and holiness : and saying, 4 Go thou wicked wretch, 1 will not give thee my soul/ he affrights the devil in such a manner that he immediately retires. The devil then returns to God, and relates what had passed : and receives an order to go a seeond time. The devil answers, that he would go every where God commanded him, even into hell, and into fire, hut not to Moses. This remonstrance is, however, of no avail, and he is obliged to go back again. But Moses, who sees him coming with a drawn sword, meets him with his miraculous rod, and gives him so severe a blow with it, that the devil is glad to escape. Lastly, God him- self comes : and Moses, having then no further hopes, requests only that his soul may not be taken out of his body by the devil. This request is granted him. Zingliiel, Gabriel, and Michael, then lay him on a bed ; and the soul of Moses begins to dispute with God, and objects to its being taken out of a body, which was so pure and holy, that no fly dared to settle upon it. But God kisses Moses, and with a kiss extracts his soul from his body. Upon this, God utters a heavy lamentation and thus the story in the Phetirath Moshe ends, without any men- tion of a dispute about the burial of Moses’s body. This last scene, therefore, which was contained in the Greek book seen by Origen, is wanting in the He- brew. But in both of these works, Michael, as well as the devil, expresses the same sentiments in respect to Moses ; in both these works the same spirit prevails : and the concluding scene which was contained in the Greek bock, is nothing more than a continuation of the same story, which is contained i n the Hebrew.’ Michaelis immediately after this puts the following question * * I seriously ask every impartial judge, whether that person could be an in- spired writer, or an immediate disciple of him who made manifest distinc- tions between the history of the Old Testament and the fabulous traditions of the Jews ; who has quoted such a book as that which I have just described, and selected from it a passage so apparently fabulous. Various attempts have been made to remove this difficulty, but with very little success.’ This extract is from Michaelis’s Introduction to the New Testament , translated and considerably augmented with notes by the present Bishop of Peterborough, (vol. iv. p. 378, &c.) printed at the expense of the university of Cambridge. As the Bishop’s notes on the work have hitherto not extended beyond the Gospels and the Acts, he has not declared his opinion concerning this and other reasons stated by Michaelis, for hesitating to acknowledge that the Epistle of Jude is canonical. The passage in the Epistle which necessarily caused observation from Michaelis as a biblical critic, is seldom adduced in our day by protestant theologians. Its explication suggested as * plausible* by the author of the Pro- testant Beadsman , and the introduction, as it appears to me, of Michael’s dragon in the Rogation processions, as an allegorical personification of the devil, con- stitute my apology for introducing Michaelis’s notice of Michael’s contention with the devil about the body of Moses. To this may be added, that as its cu- riosity attracted my attention, this was another reason for supposing that some to whom Bishop Marsh’s translation of Michaelis is unknown, would be interest- ed by the story. 138 VI. HEARNE’S PRINT OF THE DESCENT INTO HELL. Witch . A sailor’s wife had chesnuts in her lap, And mouncht, and mouncht, and mouncht; —Give me, quoth I; Aroint thee, witch ! the rump-fed ronyon cries. Macbeth , Act i. Sc. 3. Edgar. Saint Withold footed thrice the wold; He met the nightmare, and her ninefold ; Bid her alight. And troth her plight, And aroynt thee, witch, aroynt thee ! King Lear , Act iii. Sc, 5. 1 h e original copper plate of Christ’s Descent into Hell, en- graved by Michael Burghers, from an ancient drawing, for Hearne the Antiquary, being in existence, I have caused impressions to be taken from it, and inserted one opposite. This print is raised into importance by Dr. Johnson taking it as an authority for aroint , a word used twice by Shakspeare, as may be seen in the above passages. Johnson in his notes, says, ‘I had met with the word aroint in no other author till looking into Hearne’s Collection, I found it in a very old drawing that he has pub- lished, in which St. Patrick is represented visiting hell, and put- ting the devils into great confusion by his presence, of whom one, that is driving the damned before him with a prong, has a label issuing out of his mouth with these words, out , out , arongt ; of which the last is evidently the same with aroint , and used in the same sense as in this passage.’ Upon this Steevens remarks, * Dr. Johnson’s memory on the present occasion appears to have deceived him in more than a single instance. The subject of the above mentioned drawing is C^OMt raemaraW 1 JVB wrg.Jculp 139 ascertained by a label affixed to it in Gothic letters, Jesus Chris - tus, resurgens a mortuis spoliat infernum. My predecessor in- deed might have been misled by an uncouth abbreviation in the Sacred Name. The words out, out , arongt, are addressed to our Redeemer by Satan, who, the better to enforce them, ac- companies them with a blast of the horn he holds in his right hand. Tartareum intendit cornu . If the instrument he grasps in his left hand was meant for a prong, it is of singular make.’ Steevens then inserts an engraved fac simile of the instrument, and immediately says, that ‘ Satan is not driving the damned before him ; nor is any other daemon present to undertake that office. Redemption and not punishment, is the subject of the piece. — This subject of Christ’s exploit, in his descensus ad in- feros, (as Mr. Tyrwhitt has observed in a note on Chaucer, 351 2)> is taken from the Gospel of Nicodemus, and was called by our ancestors the harrowinge of helle, under which title it was repre- sented among the Chester Whitsun Playes, MS. Harl. 2013/ So far Steevens has corrected Johnson, and substantially stated the subject of Hearne’s print, but let the reader look at it and say whether Steevens himself is correct, when he affirms that Christ is addressed ‘ by Satan / The devil that speaks is de- noted, by the horn he blows, to be the Porter or warder of hell, an office of high trust, topographically the highest in hell, yet very inferior in rank, and consequently filled by a devil of low de- gree. Nor is Steevens’s mistake a mere slip of the pen, for he again calls this spirit Satan, and says, there was no ( other daemon present/ In Heywood’s * Four P’s,’ the Pardoner relates that as soon as he found a female friend of his had gone to the infer- nal regions, he went after her to fetch her back : Not as who saithe by authorise, But by the way of intreatie. And first to the devil that kept the gate 1 came, He knew me wel For oft, in the play of Corpus ChrisH He hath play'd the devil at Coventrie. * * * * I said to this devil, good maister porter , dre. HO The Porter introduces the Pardoner to Lucifer, who pre- viously sends him a safe conduct under his hand, stating, that he may at libertie Passe safe without any jeopardie, Till that he be frem us extinct, And cleerly out of helle’s precinct. And, his pardons to keep in save guarde, Me wil they lie in the porter’s warded Now in this old play both the porter of hell, and the porter's abiding place are mentioned; and it may be observed, that as in Hearne’s print the devil in this employment blows a horn, so a very ancient Saxon MS. at the British Museum, wherein Christ is depicted releasing the souls, also represents him addres- sing a fiend, whose office of porter of hell is clearly shown by the eyes on his wings, emblematical of Cerberus-like watchfulness, and by his warder’s horn, which with other implements he lets fall in terror from his hands. 1 * * Likewise the Golden Legend says, that 1 &rtone as Sitym ergst bescenhetr in fo fjellc tije nggjtc began to toete Mere. &ttb anone tje porter Macke anb fjorrpble among t jepm tn sctlence began to murmur/ 0 Probably the no- tion of this post, and the alarm of its occupiers on Christ’s ap- pearance to deliver the souls, is coeval with the earliest belief of the subject; for in the creed read in the fourth century at the council of Ariminum, a city of Italy, Christ is 1 declared to have descended into hell, and there to have disposed of all things, at whose sight the porters of hell trembled .’* 1 Again : the prong in the devil’s left hand of so 1 singular make to Steevens’s apprehension, that he engraves it in his note, is as frequently put into the hands of devils by the old masters, as the iron comb or any other implement of torture. This might be exemplified by reference to several engravings, but it is sufficient a Dodsley’s Old Plays, vol. i. p. 112. b Cotton MS. Tiberius YI. * Golden Legend, Art, Here begynneth the rcsurrecyyon . d Socrates’ Eccl. Hist. fol. 1663, p. 278. 141 to refer to the volume of the great Show at Haerlem, wherein is a print representing Doot, Hel , and the Duivel, as walking in one of the processions, the Duivel holding a 'prong of exactly the same make. Steevens’s character for erudition in other respects has per- haps not only induced belief in the general reader that his engrav- ing of it is a curiosity ; but has occasioned his misconception to be reprinted in subsequent editions of Shakspeare to the present time. It is remarkable that Steevens, while trifling and erring in de- tecting the inaccuracy of Johnson concerning the figures in the print, appears to have entertained no doubt as to the correctness of Johnson’s statement that the word engraved * is evidently the same with aroint f and it is further remarkable that every sub- a ‘ Const-thoonende Ivweel, by de loflijcke Stadt Haerlem, ten versoecke van Trou moet blijcken, in’t licht gebracht, &c. Tot Zwol by Zacharias Heyns, Drucker des Landschapes van Over-ijssel, 1607/ 4to. Devils are not only represented with instruments of torture by painters, but are sometimes so described by writers. Querela, a Latin poem, ‘ supposed to be written by S. Bernard from a nightly vision of his/ contains such a de- scription. William Crashaw, an author mentioned before (p. 133 ) who was fa- ther to Crashaw the poet, translated this poem under the title of * The Com- plaint or Dialogue betwixt the Soule and the Bodie of a damned man; each laying the fault upon the other .* (London, 1616, 24mo.) These are stanzas from it. The author in vision. After the Soule had sayd these moumefull words, Behold, two Fiends, more blacke then pitch or night, Whose shapes with pen to write, no wit aflfordes, Nor any hand of painter pourtray right. Their eares with running sores hung flapping low, Foule filthy homes in their blacke browes they wore, Full of thicke poyson which from them did flow, Their nayles were like the tushes of a bore. Sharpe steely priekes they did in each hand beare, Sulphur and fire flaming, they breath’d out ; Tusked their teeth like crooked mattocks were, And from their nosthrils snakes crawl’d round about. These Fiends in chaines fast bound this wretched soule, And with them hal’d her howling into hell : To whom on flockes ran other diuels more, And gnashing with their teeth to dancing felle. 142 sequent editor of Shakspeare has also acquiesced in Johnson’s opi- nion without taking pains to examine the ground he rests it upon. Had Steevens inquired what piece in ‘ Hearne’s collection’ this print really belonged to, he would have ascertained it to have been in Forduni Scotichronicon, (1722, 5 vois. 8vo.) before p. 1403 of vol. v., and following the direction on the plate to the Preface, They welcomed her with greetings full of woe, Some wrested her with cordes eenceless of dread, Some snatcht and tore with hooks drawne to and fro , Some for her welcome powr’d on scalding lead. Diuels. Svch horror wee do on our seruants load, Then as half wearied the diuels cryed, Now art thou worse then was the crawling toade Yet thousand-fold Worse torments thee abide. The instrument held by the porter -fiend in Heame’s print is formed to use saw-ways, like 1 hooks drawn to and fro* A minute and horrifying account of hell torments, extracted from a modem publication, is in * The Miraculous Host tortured by the Jew * But the binding of a sinner as an appendix to a devil is unique, I believe, as an infernal punish- ment. The representation is in a wood cut to a rare work entitled * Z&tX 1 (1506, 4to.) and I end this note with a sketch from it by way of tail-piece. 143 §. 14 in vol. i., lie would not only have met with the account of the print, but have also seen that Hearne himself gives the real word, from the drawing in his MS. Hearne commences the subject by saying, that, of all the calen- dars in his possession, that which Fleetwood, Bishop of Ely, pre- sented to him, is deserving of the greatest admiration. He ima- gines it to be one of the magical and astrological ones mentioned by old writers ; describes it to be full of pictures and prophecies ; and supposes it was written in the reign of Edward III., and that it was the autograph or only copy. He is surprised that though it contains the names and portraits of all the saints held in great veneration throughout the whole year, yet that no mention occurs in it of St. Patrick. He inquires how this is, and conjectures that either St. Patrick was of no note with the English, or else that the author of this calendar, as well as others, considered the story of his purgatory a fiction. Then he notices some calendars that have it, probably, he says, out of compliment to the Irish; and he observes that, if it be urged that there was no occasion for the author of this calendar to say any thing of purgatory because he was not treating concerning hell, that can be proved to be er- roneous, because he diligently depicts the fall of man and his liberation from the infernal regions ; ‘ which diligence,’ says Hearne, who evidently tattles thus to have an opportunity of giv- ing engravings to his readers from drawings that the worthy old man was himself amused with; * which diligence moreover, upon this subject you will find to be sufficiently ridiculous from the pictures themselves, which I subjoin in the Appendix to the work ; in the first of which you will read Adam moritur et tran- sit ad infernum pro uno porno ; and in the second Jhesus Chris- tus resurgens d mortuis, together with these words in our ver- nacular tongue, Otlt t OUt, afOUfit, uttered by one of the daemons already very much alarmed, and blowing a horn.” a Heame’s words in his preface are ; f Quam tamen in hac re diligentiam ri- diculam satis esse £ picturis ipsis colliges, quas in Appendice opens subnectam ; in quaram prim& legitur, Adam moritur et transit ad infernum pro uno porno ; in Becunda,7Aesws Christus resurgens a mortuis spoliat infernum , una cum hisce verbis 144 From tliis wo see that the presumed 1 arongt] is on Heaine’s own testimony, ‘ arougt! Independent of this indubitable con- firmation, there are other reasons for believing arougt to be the correct word, and consequently that the only authority for aroint is the twofold mention of it by Shakspeare. It is well known to every reader of old MSS. that from care- lessness the copyists frequently formed It and U alike; and, in arOttft, as it is spelled in Hearne’s print, the letter before the may have been so undeterminate in the MS. word, that Burghers, the engraver of the plate, being unacquainted with the orthography of the archaism, and preferring decision to correctness, wrote Tt when he should have written tt, and thus converted the word arougt into aton^t Or, Burghers’ transcript of tt may really approach the original nearer than I have conjectured; for as Heame’s honest accuracy is not to be outrivalled, it cannot be supposed that he would allow an engraving from a drawing in the Fleetwood Calendar, which he so highly commends, to be very wide of exactness. b Though the inscriptions were secondary to his principal object, that of representing the scene, yet considerable faithfulness in the whole is to be presumed; and, if Burghers’ engraving be a tolerably fair fac simile of both, it must be obvious to every one who examines the print, that however rude in design ihe drawing appears, the MS. inscriptions upon it were quite as coarse. For, in that at the top of the plate, U and ft are so similar that the letters they are intended for are rather to be in- ferred from their connexion with other letters, than to be per- ceived from their difference of form. For example; it would (lingua nostra vernacula) ab uno Daenionum, (jam admodum perturbatorum) cornu inflante, out, out, arougt, pronunciatis.’ — Schotichronicon, vol. i. Prsef. p.l. a is the Saxon g, and sometimes gh, in MSS. b Ritson, sparing as he was of praise, jet, while fish-wifing Warton, could afford to say of Hearne, that ‘ few if any can boast of such a sacred regard to truth, and of such unimpeached integrity : — he has never been detected in a wilful falsehood ; nor been ever charged with the slightest misrepresentation of the minutest fact. — Obs. on Hist, of Eng . Poetry , p. 36. 145 oe doubtful whether ft in resurgens were not U; and U in me tuis is so like U in that it would actually be taken tor It were mortuis a word of equivocal meaning. But in whatever way the error came upon the plate, Hearne has himself cured it by quoting the passage, in ‘ our vernacular tongue, out, OUt, UlCUQt,’ as the words of the print. To this may be added, that aroug* * rhymes to out, out, and is the last line of a distich, ©Ut, ©Ut, Erougf. Such a couplet it would be quite natural for a monkish writer in a rhyming age to conceive a happy thought, and to introduce on such an occasion. Taking then arougt to be the real word, I just observe, that in all the engravings that I have seen of the Descent wherein devils appear, they are represented to be roaring, or violently clamoring in great fear; and to assist the reader, I beg him to recollect that the terrified devil in the print, accom- panies the distich, out, out, arougt, with a blast of his horn, as an alarm to the infernal host. Arougt I have not been able to find in any dictionary within reach ; but there is arout, to assemble together, in Urry’s edition of Chaucer, where it stands thus : In all that land no Christian durst arout All Christin folk ben flemed fro that countre.* Now if arout were really Chaucers word, it would go nigh in my opinion to settle the question; but on looking further it appears that Chaucer’s word is route , and that the letter a is pre- fixed by Urry, who put initial or final syllables to Chaucer’s words for the purpose of assisting the measure where he supposed it de- ficient. b It reads in Tyrwhitt’s, as well as in other editions, In all that lond no cristen dorstd route. — 1. 4960. For the present taking arougt as a summons to assemble , the • Urry’s Chaucer, p. 53. Man of Lawe’s Tale, I. 541. * Ibid. Thomas’s Preface. 146 words that seem most likely to exemplify it are as follow-: — Teutonic or old Dutch, rot , a crowd or band of men ; a rot- ten , to congregate : b old German, rotte, turba vagabonda, a wandering crowd, also a party or faction : c old English, route, a company . d The statute 2 Rich. II. cap. 6. speaks of riding in great routes to make entry into lands. 6 Rout also signifies the meeting of a large social party invited by a lady ; the assembly is called her rout! But leaving this sense, I find in Saxon, reotan, or wreotan, crepitare, strepere, to clatter, or make a noise : s Scot- tish, ruther, a loud noise, a tumultuous cry, an uproar: Anglo- Saxon, hruth, commotion : Cambro -Britannic, rhuthr , impetus : rhuthro, cum impetu ferri : Irish, ruathar, pillage, and hrid , a combat : Scottish, rutuor , a spoiler, an oppressor : also rout, rule, a blow, a severe or weighty stroke. 11 As in Hearne’s engraving, the word projects beyond the ruled border, copied from the page of the calendar, is it not probable that the word arougt was a contraction of the amanuensis, to avoid an unseemly projection into the margin, which seldom or never occurs in MSS. beyond the extent to which arougt has exceeded its boundary line. Hearne would not have called the inscription, ‘words in our vernacular tongue/ if their spelling and pronunciation had not denoted their sense ; if then, spelt as arougt is, and recollecting the confined space which had been transgressed, we discover no one word that can reasonably be ima- gined to be arougt, may it not be an abbreviation of two words ? I imagine that a, quotation from Spenser, in the Rev. Archdeacon Nares’s glossary, is a clue to these words Harrow now, out, and well away ! he cryde. — Faery Queen , ii. vi. 43. Mr. Nares defines harrow, an exclamation of sorrow or alarm. The word out, a common exclamation of grief where we should now say alas, is also an interjection expressive of abhorrence and is used in that sense by Shakspeare : Queen Margaret says to Kilian. Skinner. 0 Kilian. • Wachter. d Minsheu. • Ibid. Jamieson. * Lye. “ Jamieson. 147 Gloster, * * out devil!’* Now omit the second word in Spenser's line, and we have harrow out , or arougt, a cry suitable to the porter of hell under his surprise and sudden terror. Jamieson, among other particulars respecting harro, says, that it is an out- cry for help, and that it seems to be merely the French word haro, or harou, a cry used by the Normans, which when raised against a capital offender all were bound to pursue and seize him. The devil in the Newcastle play of Noah’s Ark, b exclaims Harro, and wel away, That ever I uprose this day. Wel away , means alas ! from palapa, Saxon, for woe on woe,* and is therefore with propriety coupled to harro. The word haro is often used by the devil as an interjection in the old French and English mysteries. There is a Lancashire word pro- nounced and spelt areawt, which signifies get out, or away with thee ; d probably this provincialism is a reduction of the two words haro, out. But the orthography of English manuscripts in the age of Hearne’s calendar was almost arbitrary. Its loose and undetermined character is sorely lamented by the preface writer to Bishop Bale’s interlude of God's Promises : he says that ‘ the same words being so constantly spelled different ways, makes it very certain they had no fixed rule of right and wrong in spelling ; provided the letters did but in any manner make out the sound of the word they would express, it was thought sufficient.’ e These hints are for consideration, and may be of assistance per- haps, to others, who with the same inclination, are happily better qualified to discover and explain the derivation and meaning of Hearne’s word ; it would ill become me to further agitate a point, that the learned alone can finally settle. * King Richard III. act, 1. scene 3. 0 Brand’s Newcastle, vol. ii. p. 37o, • N&res’s Glossary. d Boucher's Supp. to Johnson, ait. aroint. ® Dodsley’s Old Plays, vol. i. 711. ORIGIN OF MYSTERIES— FEAST OF FOOLS— FEAST OF THE ASS, &c. ‘ What does civil history acquaint us with, but the incorrigible rogueries of mankind ; or, ecclesiastical history more than their follies ?* Warburton. A Jewish Play, of which fragments are still preserved in Greek Iambics, is the first Drama known to have been written on a scripture subject. 4 It is taken from the Exodus, or the de- parture of the Israelites from Egypt under their leader and pro- phet Moses. The principal characters are ‘ Moses, Sapphora, and God from the Bush/ or God speaking from the burning bush. Moses delivers the prologue in a speech of sixty lines, and his rod is turned into a serpent on the stage. The author of the play is Ezekiel, a Jew, who is called the tragic poet of the Jews. Warton supposes that he wrote it after the destruction of Jerusalem, as a political spectacle to animate his dispersed bre- thren with the hopes of a future deliverance from their captivity under the conduct of a new Moses; and that it was composed in imitation of the Greek drama at the close of the second cen- tury. 1 * Rymer the antiquary relates, that in the first ages of Christianity any one concerned with the theatre was not allowed baptism. Cyril declares that when in our baptism we say, 4 1 renounce thee, Satan, and all thy works and pomps/ those pomps of the devil are stage plays and the like vanities. Tertullian affirms that they who in baptism renounce the devil and his pomps, can - * Translated into Latin by Fr. Morellus, Paris, 1580. b Warton, vol. ii. p. 371. 149 not to go to a play without turning apostates. Hence the Greek and Latin fathers had an ample field for their eloquence and declamation, before the Arians, the Gnostics, and other in- testine heresies, sprang up to divert them. Cyprian, Basil, and Clement of Alexandria, are very warm upon the occasion; and so in many of his homilies is Chrysostom, who cries shame that peo- ple should listen to a comedian with the same ears that they hear an evangelical preacher. Augustine maintains that they who go to plays are as bad as those that write or act them. Tertul- lian in his warmth against the tragedians, observes, that the de- vil sets them upon their high pantojles to give Christ the lie , who said, nobody can add one cubit to his stature . Rymer adds, that these flashes and drops of heat, from single authors, had no such wonderful effect, for the tragedian still walked on in his high shoes. ‘Yet might they well expect a more terrible storm from the reverend fathers when they met in a body together, in council oecumenical. Then indeed began the ecclesiastical thunder to fly about, and presently the theatres, tragedy, comedy, bear-baiting, gladiators, and heretics, are given all to the devil without distinc- tion. Nor was it sufficient for the zeal of those times to put down stage plays. All heathen learning fell under the like cen- sure and condemnation. One might as well have told them of the antipodes as persuaded the reading of Tully’s offices : they were afraid of the Greek philosophy like children of a bugbear, lest it fetch them away. A council of Carthage would not allow that a bishop should read any heathen book. How heartily St. Austin begs God pardon for having read Virgil with delight in his graver years 1 What a plunge was Jerome put to, by Ruffinus laying to his charge the reading of heathen authors.’* * Rymer’ s short View of Tragedy, 8vo, 1693, p. 32, &c. The plunge , which Rymer says Jerome was put to by Ruffinus, arose during a controversy between them, in which Ruffinus charged Jerome with having perjured himself by reading the classics, after he had entered into an engagement of a most solemn nature that he would not. The affair is rather curious. — It is told of one Natalis, who lived before 150 It was this blind zeal, Rymer says, that gave a pleasant prospect to the Emperor Julian, who opposed it by literally complying with it; for he made a law that no Christian 'should be taught in the heathen schools, or make use of that learning * There were two men living at that time, who exerted their talents to supply the deficiency of instruction and entertainment that the Christians experienced from Julian’s edict: these were Apollinarius, Bishop of Laodicea,f and his father, a priest of the same city; they Jerome’s time, that having accepted of a bishopric among the heretics, he was severely scourged all night by angels, and the next morning repented and returned to the church. This probably occasioned a trance, into which, Jerome was thrown. The saint says, that he was arraigned before the tribunal of heaven, and being asked his profession, answered that he was a Christian : 4 Thou best,’ said Christ, thou art a Ciceronian , for the works of that author possess thy heart ;’ whereupon he was condemned to be scourged by angels, and promised the judge not to read such books again. The chastisement was so severely in- flicted, that he declares, he never forgot it ; yet, very unluckily, he some time afterwards went on quoting the classic writers as usual. Ruffinus twitted him with breaking his oath; and Jerome plunged from the charge, by answering, that he could not forget what he had read, but that he had not read the classics since. ( Butler's Lives of the Saints , v. ix. p. 364.) Upon this, which is the affair alluded to by Rymer, an Italian 4 Ciceronian’ observes, that if Jerome was whipped for writing in the style and manner of Cicero, he suffered flagellation for what he did not deserve, and might have safely pleaded not guilty. ( Jortin's Remarks on Bed, Hist. v. ii. p. 104.) This father, however his talents commanded admiration, was no great stickler for truth. He openly avowed that he disputed for victory, and that it was to be won at all hazards, and by any means. Ruffinus putting a home question to him that he was obliged to notice, the way in which he did it, was not by answering it, but by asking Ruffinus, in gross terms, why the lower part of the human body behind is not placed before. He was greatly the superior of Ruffinus, to whom he dealt such hard blows, that Daille pities him ; yet Jerome whimsically read his adversary a long lecture against mutual railing, and bringing accusations against each other, as being more proper at the bar than in the church, and fitter to stuff a lawyer’s bag than a churchman’s papers. ‘ But the sport of it is,’ says Daille, ‘ to see that after he hath handsomely belaboured and pricked this pitiful thing from head to foot, and sometimes till the blood followed, he at length protesteth that he had spared him for the love of God ! and that he had not afforded words to his troubled breast, but had set a watch before his mouth according to the example of the Psalms!’ (Daille on the Right Use of the Fathers , pt. ii. p. 93.) After all, Erasmus says that Jerome had better manners than Augustine. * Rymer, p. 32. * He died in 382. •ere both scholars well skilled in oratory and the rules ot compo- sition, and of high literary renown. Apollinarius, the elder, a profound philologer, translated the five books of Moses into heroic verse, and in the same measure composed the History of the Israelites to the time of Saul, into a poem of twenty-four books, in imitation of Homer. He also wrote religious odes, and turned particular histories and portions of the old and New Testament into comedies and tragedies, after the manner of Menander, Euri- pides, and Pindar. His son the Bishop, an eloquent rhetorician, and already an antagonist of Julian’s, anxious that the Christians might not be ignorant of any species of Greek composition, formed the writings of the Evangelists and the works of the Apostles into dialogues, in the manner of Plato.* About the same time, Gregory Nazianzen, Patriarch and Arch- bishop of Constantinople, one of the fathers of the Church and master to the celebrated Jerome, composed plays from the Old and New Testament, which he substituted for the plays of So- phocles and Euripides at Constantinople, where the old Greek stage had flourished until that time. If the ancient Greek tragedy was a religious spectacle,f so the sacred dramas of Gregory Nazianzen were formed on the same model, and the choruses were turned into Christian hymns. One only of the Archbishop’s plays is * Shepherd on the Common Prayer, 1801, v. ii. p. 481, note . Socrates Eccles. Hist. 1663. Fol. p. 305. Socrates observes, that in consequence of the labours of the Apollinarii, Julian’s law was abrogated, and the Christians resumed their studies in heathen learning, which he says the apostle Paul did only not forbid, but is seen not to have despised liimsef : ‘ For where T pray you.’ inquires Socrates, 4 borrowed Paul this sentence ? The Cretians are always liars, evil beasts, slow bellies , (Titus, i. 13.) was it not out of Epimenedes, a poet of Crete ? Or where learned he this ? We are also his offspring, (Acts xvii. 28.) was it not out of the Phceno • mena of Aratus the Astronomer ? That saying also, Evil communica- tions corrupt good manners, (1 Corinth, i. 13.) sheweth plainly that he was well seen in the Tragedies of Euripides ’ — Socrates Schol. ibid, p.306. f * All agree, that in the beginning it was purely a religious worship, and a solemn service for their holidays; afterwards it came from the temples to the theatre, admitted of a secular alloy, and grew to be soirn image of the world and human life. When it was brought to the utmost perfection by Sophocles, the chorus continued a nescessary part the tragedy; but the music and dancing which came along with thfc extant: it is a tragedy called Christ's passion. The prologue <;alls it an imitation of Euripides, and, on the same authority, we learn that the Patriarch has the honour, in this piece, of in- troducing the Virgin Mary’s first appearance on the stage. The play is preserved in Gregory Nazianzen’s works.* The remainder chorus was mere religion, no part of the tragedy, nor had any thing of philosophy or instruction in them.’ — Rymer , p- 19. M. Ouvaroff ( Essay on the Eleusinian Mysteries, 1817, 8vo.) is dis- posed to believe that the lesser Mysteries of the ancients comprehended symbolical representations of the history of Ceres and Proserpine, and Mr. Christie (in his ‘ Observations' appended to M. OuvarofFs Essay) accords to that opinion. He thinks it probable that the priests at Eleusis, who in later times contented themselves with shewing and explaining the machinery within the temple, were at first actors in a drama, and being persuaded that the paintings of the black and red Greek vases, originally deposited in tombs, were copied from transparent scenes in different mysteries, he introduces an engraving from a Sicilian vase, painted, as he conceives, to represent the four priests or agents in the Samothracian and Eleusinian shows. Dr. Darwin ( Botanic Garden , note xxii..) assigns reasons for supposing that the reliefs on the Port- land vase constitute portions of the Eleusinian Mysteries, which ho also affirms, consisted of scenical exhibitions representing and inclu- cating the expectation of a future life after death; and he explains the marriage of Cupid arid Psyche, as described by Apuleius, on the well- known beautiful gem, to be originally descriptive of another part of these exhibitions Bishop Warburton’s proof, (in his Divine Legation of Moses) that the sixth book of Virgil’s ./Eneid represents some of these Eleusinian shows, is corroborated by Mr. Thomas Taylor (in a Disser- tation on the Eleusinian and Bacchic Mysteries. — Pamphleteer, No. xv. and xvi.) M. Ouvaroff quotes Cicero, (De Leg. ii. 14.) as affirming that Athens produced ‘ nothing more excellent than the Mysteries, which exalt us from a rude and savage state to true humanity : they initiate us into the true principles of life, for they teach us not only to live pleasantly, but to die with better hopes.* Whether Rymer, in the passage quoted above, alluded to these secret rites, or to certain public ceremonies of ancient polytheism, is not clear. Since his time, so much information has been communicated in our own tongue, that a mere English reader could easily draw up a curious memoir concerning the ancient customs that illustrate the origin of the drama. * Opera Greg. Nazianz. tom. ii. p. 253. Warton, vol. ii. p. 368. Sandys’s Christ Passion, 1687, 8vo. Preface. Gregory ‘ all inflamed with the love of God and zeal for his glory, applied himself to the making of comedies and tragedies, and the writing of all such verse ; which he performed with so much wit and elegance, and with such rare and admirable sentences, that the Chris- tians found in his writings all they could desire in the heathen poets.’ — ttibadeneira’s Lives , vol. i. p. 333. At this time acclamations and applauses were used in churches as well 153 of his dramas have not survived those inimitable compositions over which they have triumphed for a time. It is not known whether the religious dramas of the Apollinari perished so early as some of their other writings that were ordered to be destroyed for a crime common in all ages, heresy;* but this as theatres. Jerome desired Gregory Nazianzen to explain to him what was meant by the second Sabbath after the first , in Luke (c. vi. v. i.). Gregory answered, ‘ I will teach you that at church, where, when all the people shall applaud me, you will be forced to know what you do not know; for if you, only, keep silence, you will be looked upon as a fool,’ — Le Clerc's Lives, 8vo. 1696. p. 289. * Lardner’s works, 4to. vol. ii. p. 463. Heresy, in Greek, signifies election , or choice, and is used for any opinion which a man chooseth as best or most profitable. Heresy and heretic are often used by ancient writers as words of indifferent meaning ; and the several ways of philosophising were called sects or heresies. Johnson defines heresy, an opinion of private men different from that of the catholic and orthodox church. Immediately after the Council of Nice, the Emperor Constantine issued a decree, ordering, that if there was any book extant written by Arius, that it should be burned to ashes, and the head of any man found hiding or concealing one should be stricken off from his shoulders. The church extended the spirit of this edict to other books, for as every dissenter from its establishment was declared a heretic, pains were taken to destroy his writings; and hence the opinions and characters of these persons are only known to us through the works of their enemies, the fathers of the church, who in their turn disputed, quarrelled, and misre- presented each other . — ( Socrates Eccl. Hist, folio, 1668, p. 221.) They had so great a horror of heretics, that they would not so much as pre- serve those of their writings that did not contain heresy ; and which might even have been useful to the church. Upon which account it is that we have scarce any book of the ancient heretics existing. Du Pin's Eccl. Hist. vol. i. p. 215.) Epiphanius, a Greek bishop in the fourth century, was canonized as a saint for abusing fourscore classes of men under the name of heretics. ( Robinson's Eccles. Researches, p. 54.) Although Eusebius, and other fathers, and even Irenseus from whom the rest borrowed, charged the ancient heretics with using witchcraft and enchantment, it has been questioned by the learned whether this was any more than a popular charge against men who studied mathematics, and particularly astronomy, for the ancient fathers perpetually con- founded astronomy and astrology with magic. ( Lardner's Works, 4to. vol. iv. p. 514.) It seems that the Lutheran church has been behind hand with the catholic. One of its doctors, in a commentary on heresy and schism, has inserted, cataloguewise, no less than six hundred and thirty-two sorts of heretics, heresiarchs, and schismatics, diversified as the birds of heaven, and agreeing only in one single point — the crime of not continuing in what is called the church, ( Robinson's Eccles. Re- searches, p. 125.) Heretic is a favourite term of reproach for difference of opinion. Dr, Daniel Williams, who bequeathed his valuable library 21 154 is certain, that the learning they endeavoured to supply gradually disappeared before the progress of Constantine’s establishment. Suddenly acquiring power, and finally assuming infallibility, ob- serving pagan feasts as religious festivals, consecrating heathen to the dissenters, and the bulk of his property to public uses, was of spotless reputation, and the friend of the most enlightened men of his age, ‘ yet he was not only reckoned a heretic, but attempts were even made to injure his moral character.’ ( Chalmers Biog. Diet . vol. xxxii. p. 105.) The church of England is a heretic to the catholic church, which has an office of supplication for our reconversion, (from whence the following is extracted,) entitled, The Litany of Intercession for England. * J^emember not, 0 Lord, our offences, nor those of our Parents ; nor take Revenge of our Sins. Lord have Mercy on us, &c. O God the Father , Creator of the W orld, Have mercy on England. O God the Son , Redeemer of the World, Have Mercy on England. O God the Holy Ghost , Perfecter of the Elect, Have Mercy on England. O Sacred Trinity, three Persons and one God, Have Mercy on England. Holy Mary, Mother of God, Pray for England. Holy Mary, Queen of Angels, whose powerful intercession destroys all Heresies, Pray for England. St. Raphael, faithful guide of those that have lost their way, Pray for England. All ye holy Apostles and Evangelists, chief Planters of the Christian Faith, and zealous Maintainers of Catholic Union, Pray for England. All yo holy Bishops and Confessors, by whose wisdom and sanctity this Island was once a flourishing seminary of Religion, Pray for England. From presuming on their own private opinions, and contemning the Authority of thy Church, Deliver England, 0 Lord. We sinners, Beseech thee to hear us. That it may please thee to hasten the Conversion of this our miser- able ^Country, and re-unj.te it to the ancient Faith and Com- munion of Thy Church • We beseech thee to hear us. 155 rites into Christian solemnities and transforming the non-obser- vances of primitive simplicity into precedents for gorgeous cere- mony, the church blazed with a scorching splendour that withered up the heart of man. Every accession to the dominion of its ecclesiastics over his property and intellect induced self-relaxation and sloth ; to the boldness that seized a liberal supply for spiritual support succeeded the craft that extended it to a boundless reve- nue for effeminate indulgence The miraculous powers of the church wonderfully multiplied; but implicit belief in miracles was equivocal unless the act of faith was accompanied by liberal con- tributions at the altar. The purchase of pardons for sin, and the worship of the reliques exhibited in sumptuous shrines, were effec- tual ways of warring with the powers of darkness, and the coffers overflowed with contributions. These active hostilities against Satan occasioned him to ascend upon earth, and to terrify the de- vout, he often appeared to them in the natural ugliness of his own proper person. When put to flight, by masses and holy water he took lodgings incog, in the bodies of careless people, nor would he leave a tenement he occupied, till he was forcibly turned out of possession by a priest acquainted with the forms of ejectment. Dislike to clean linen was a peculiar mark of piety, and dirty hermits emitted the odour of sanctity. Though their holiness was so violently hated by the devil, that he took the trouble I < assault and tempt them in the holes of the earth ana trunks >1 old trees where they inhabited, yet it was rewarded with visits to their chosen abodes from all the orders of heaven; and by long familiarity with the powers of the other world, these ‘ tender-nosed saints could detect the presence of invisible angels.’ They who turned their backs upon the concerns of life were especial favourites above. A nun reported that Christ opened her side with his corporal hands, took out her heart, and then care- fully placing his own in the chasm, left it there and closed the wound, at the same time doing her the honour to wear her shift. Nor did the faithful who believed the former relation, doubt for an instant that the Virgin descended from heaven to vis* 56 the cells of monastnes, and milk her breasts into the mouths of monks.* Doubts were effectually removed by burning doubters. All who were privileged to shave the top of the head in a circle, as a token of emancipation from worldly superfluities, were part- ners in the profitable trade of granting licences for unmolested existence at the price of unconditional submission. Ecclesiastical policy accomplished its purpose: — the human mind was in a deliquium ; the hierarchy at the summit of its ascendancy. From the complete establishment of the church until within a short time before the reformation, darkness overspread the world, and a great mass of the clergy themselves were in a state of deplo- rable ignorance. f During this period, in order to wean the people * The Miraculous Host, 1822, p. 30, seudo-gospeIs upon narratives in the New Testament, composed and performed the plays called the Coventry Mysteries. These fraudful produc- tions were calculated to postpone the period of illumination, and to stigmatize, by implication, the labours of AYyclifTe. Yet, if the simultation succeeded for awhile with the vulgar, it reinvi- gorated the honest and the persevering ; and as the sun breaks forth after a season of cold and darkness, so truth finally emerging from the gulph of the [papal hierarchy, animated the torpid in tellect, and cheered the 4 long abused sight.* But to return. Warton says, that in very early times, while no settled or public theatre was known, and itinerant minstrel* acted in the halls of the nobility at Christmas, plays were per formed t by the boys at the public schools, and have continuer 1 to be so to the present time, of which the practice of acting Latin plays at Westminster, Eton, and other seminaries, are ex- amples. In 1538, Ralph Radcliffe, a scholar and a lover o graceful erudition, wrote plays in Latin and English, which were exhibited by his pupils. Among his comedies were Dives and Lazarus, the delivering of Susannah, Job’s sufferings, the burning of John Huss, Patient Grizzle, &c. The ancient consuetudi- nary, as it is called of Eton school, containing all its old and original customs, relates that about the 30th of November the master was accustomed to choose such Latin stage plays a * Warton, vol. ii. p. 367. 206 were most excellent, and convenient to be played in the following Christmas nolidays before a public audience. While the people were amused with Skelton’s Trial of Simony, Bale’s God’s Pro- mises, and Christ’s Descent into Hell, the scholars of the times were composing and acting dramas on historical subjects ; and though Warton supposes it probable that on this ground we may account for plays being acted by singing boys, yet he thinks that they perhaps acquired a turn for theatrical representations from their annual exhibition of the ceremonies of the Boy Bishop , which seem to have been common in almost every religious community that was capable of supporting a choir. The scholars of St. Paul’s school in London, were, till a comparative late period, in great celebrity for their theatrical talent, which it appears was in full exercise upon the Mysteries so early as the reign of Richard II.; for in that year, 1378, they presented a petition to his majesty, praying him 6 to prohibit some unexpert people from presenting the history of the Old and New Testament to the great prejudice of the said clergy, who have been at great expense in order to represent it publicly at Christmas, j But the more eminent performers of mysteries in London, were the society of Parish Clerks. On the 18th, 19th, and 20th of July, 1390, they played interludes at the Skinner’s Well, as the usual place of their performance, before king Richard II., his queen, and their court; and at the same place, in 1490, they played the Creation of the World, and subjects of the like kind, for eight successive days, to splendid audiences of the nobility and gentry from all parts of England. The parish-clerks’ an- cient performances are memorialized in raised letters of iron, upon a pump on the east side of Rag Street, now called Ray Street. * Warton, vol. ii. p. 389* | Dodsley’s Old Plays, vol. i. Pref. p. xii. From Mysteries the boys of'St. Paul’s school proceeded to the more regular dramas ; and at the commencement of a theatre, were the best and almost the only come- dians. They became at length so favourite a set of players as often to act at court, and on particular occasions of festivity, were frequently removed from London + or this purpose only, to the royal houses at some distance from town* — Warton , voh ii. p. 391* 207 beyond the Sessions-house, Clerkenwell. The inscription is as follows : * A. D. 1800 . William Bound, Joseph Bird, Church- wardens. For the better accommodation of the Neighbour- hood, this pump was removed to the spot where it now stands. The spring, by which it is supplied is situated four feet eastward, and round it, as history informs us, the Parish Clerks of London, in remote Ages, commonly performed sacred plays. That custom caused it to be denominated Clerk ’s-well, and from which this parish derived its name. The water was greatly esteemed by the Prior and Brethren of the order of St. John of Jerusalem, and the Benedictine Nuns in the neighbourhood. The pump of the Skinner’s well is let into a low dead wall. On the north side is an earthenware shop ; and on the south a humble tenement occupied by a bird-seller, whose cages with their chirping tenants, hang over and around the inscription. The passing admirers of linnets and redpoles, now and then stops awhile to listen to the melody, and refresh his eye with a few green clover turfs, that stand on a low table for sale by the side of the door; while the monument denoting the histrionic fame ot the place, and alluding to the miraculous powers of the water for healing incurable diseases, which formerly attracted multitudes to the spot, remains unobserved beneath its living attractions. The present simplicity of the scene powerfully contrasts with the re- collection of its former splendour. The choral chant of the Benedictine nuns accompanying the peal of the deep-toned organ through their cloisters, and the frankincense curling its perfume from priestly censors at the altar, are succeeded by the stunning sounds of numerous quickly plied hammers, and the smith’s bel- lows flashing the fires of Mr. Bound’s iron foundry, erected upon the unrecognised site of the convent. This religious house stood about half-way down the declivity of the hill, which commencing near the church on Clerkenwell Green, terminates at the river 208 Fleet, The prospect then, w’as uninterrupted by houses, and ths people upon the rising grounds could have had an uninterrupted view of the performances at the well. About pistol-shot from thence, on the N. N. E. part of the hill, there was a Bear-Gar- den ; and scarcely so far from the well, at the bottom of the hill westward, and a little to the north, ip the hollow of Air Street, lies Hockley in the Hole, where different rude sports, which probably arose from the discontinuance of the Parish Clerks acting, were carried on, within the recollection of persons still living, to the great annoyance of the suburb.* * To the ecclesiastical origin of the drama we must refer to the plays acted by the society of the Parish-clerks of London. It was an essential part of their profession not only to sing but to read ; an accomplishment almost solely confined to the clergy : and on the whole they seem to come under the denomination of a religious fraternity. They were incorporated into a guild or fellowship, by King Henry III. about 1240, under the patronage of St. Nicholas. It was anciently customary for men and women of the first quality, ecclesiastics, and others who were lovers of church music, to be admitted into this corporation, and they gave large gratuities for the support of education of many persons in the practice of that science. Their public feasts were frequent and cele- brated with singing and music ; most commonly at Guildhall chapel or college. (Stowe’s Survey, Lond. ut supra, lib. v. p. 231.) Before the reformation this society was constantly hired to assist as a choir at the magnificent funerals of the nobility or other distinguished personages* which were celebrated within the city of London or its neighbourhood. The splendid ceremonies of their annual procession and mass in the year 1551, are thus related by Strype from an old chronicle, “ May the sixth wa s a goodly evensong at Guildhall college, by the masters of the claries and their fellowship, with singing and playing, and the morrow after was a great mass, at the same place, and by the same fraternity ; when every dark offered an halfpenny. The mass was sung by divers of the Queen’s (Mary) chapel, and children. And after mass done every dark went their procession, two and two together; each having on a surplice, and a rich cope, and a garland. And then, fourscore standards, streamers, and banners ; and each one that bore them had an alb or a surplice. Then came in order the waits playing : and then thirty clarkes sin g festa dies. There w^ere four of these choirs. Then came a canopy, borne over the sacrament by four of the masters of the clarkes with staffe, torches burning, &c.” (Strype’s Eccles. Mem. vol. iii. c. xiii. r>. 121.) Their profession, employment, and character, naturally dictated 209 The religious guild, or fraternity of Corpus Ckristi at Yor& was obliged annually to perform a Corpus Christi Play . Drake ■says, that this ceremony must have been in its time one of the most extraordinary entertainments the city could exhibit; and would necessarily draw a great concourse of people out of the country to this spiritual brotherhood the representation of plays, especially those of the scriptural kind : and their constant practice in shews, processions, and vocal music, easily accounts for their address in detaining the last company which England afforded in the fourteenth century at a religious farce for more than a week S—Warton, vol. ii. p, 397. I can find no registries of the parish of Clerkenwell, early enough to supply any trace respecting the playing of the Parish Clerks. From the poor’s rate-books I took a few extracts, which, a 3 shewing the number of houses rated, and the quality of some of the ancient inhabi- tants, may be interesting, perhaps, to some readers. In the oldest, for the year 1666, the only places mentioned, and the number of houses assessed in each place are as follows; Islington 47. St. John Street, (or Swan Alley) 43. St. John’s Lane, 41. Garden Alley, 23. St. Johns’s 17. Clerkenwell Greene, 47. Turnmill Street, 112. Bowleing Alley, 15. Street-side, 4. Clerkenwell Cloase, 43. The Fields, 8, Out-landlords, 18 — Total , 418. The assessments were by lunar months. In this rate-book, there are the following names among thD inhabitants ; the sums to each are their monthly assessments. The Eaile of Carlisle, 8 s. The Earle of Essex, 85 . The Earle of Ailesbury, what he pleasetli according to his desire (IQs.). The Lord Barkely, 7s. The Lord Townsend, at his honour's pleasure. Lady Crofts, 3s. 6d. The Lord Dellawar, 2s. Gd. Lady Wordham, 2s. Sir John Keeleing, referred to his honour's pleasure. Sir John Cropley, 65 . Sir Edward Bannister 3 s. Gd. Sir Nicholas Stroude, 2s. Sir Gower Barrington, 2s. Dr. King, 2s Gd. Dr. Sloane, 8c?.— In the rate-books for 1667 and 8, are the following additional names: The Duke of Newcastle, (not assessed). Lord Baltimore, 4s. Gd. Lady Wright, 4s. Lady Mary Dormer, 4s. Lady Wyndham, 2s. Sir Erasmus Smith, 4s. Sir Richard Cliverton, 4s. Sir John Burdish, 3s. 8 d. Sir Goddard Nelthrope, 3s. Sir John King, 3s. Sir William Bowles, 2s Gd. Sir William Boulton, 2s Gd. The Mannour house in ‘ the Fields’ was assessed at 6d. There were several bowling-greens in Clerkenwell. The monthly assessment of * Mr. Briscoe, at the Ram, in Smithfield, for a feiled and bowling-alley in this parish,’ was Is. 6c?. In 1708, when Hatton wrote his ‘ View of London,’ Clerkenwell contained 1146 houses. In the present year, 1822, the parish-books 28 210 to see it. Every trade in the city, from the highest to the lowest, was obliged to furnish out a pageant at its own expense on this occasion. The subjects were from the history of the Old and New Testament, and each trade represented some particular part, and spoke suitable verses. Many orders and ordinances, ex- isting in the city’s registers, regulate the performance of this reli- gious ceremony. One of these recites, that Whereas for a long course of time the artifices and tradesmen of the city of York, have at their own expense, acted p.ays ; and particularly a certain sumptuous play, exhibited in severa pageants, wherein the history of the Old and New Testament, in divers places of the said city in the feast of Corporis Christi, by a solemn procession, is represented in reverence to the sacrament of the body of Christ; beginning first at the great gates of the priory of the holy Trinity in Yoik, and so going in procession to, and into the cathedral church of the same, and afterwards to the hospital of St. Leonard, in York, leaving the aforesaid sacrament in that place ; preceded by a vast number o-f lighted torches, and a great multitude of priests in their proper habits, and followed by the mayor and citizens, with a prodigious crowd of the populace attending : And further reciting that whereas, upon this, a certain very religious father, William Mel- ton, of the order of the Friars Minors, professor of Holy Page- antry, and a most famous preacher of the word of God, coming to the city, in several sermons recommended the aforesaid play to the people, affirming that it was good in itself, and very commend- able so to do ; yet also said, that the citizens of the said city, and other foreigners coming to the said feast, had greatly disgraced the rate about 6000. Ilatton says, that Isabella Sackville, the last prioress of Clerkenwell, died 21st October, 1570, and was buried in the old church, destroyed by fire about 30 years ago, with her effigies in brass on a gravestone. Also, beneath a curious tomb, Sir William Weston, the last lord Prior of St. John of Jerusalem, who, upon its dissolution, was allowed 1. 000/. per, ann, for life, but died, it was supposed of grief, on May the 7th, 1540, the very day the house was dissolved. John Weever, the author of the Funeral Monti- was likewise buried there, with a monument and inscription, declaring, ihet^ wheresoe’er a ruin’d tomb he found , Hi$ pen hath built it new out of the ground- 211 play by revcllings, drunkenness, shouts, songs, and other ins? Jences, little regarding the divine offices of the said day, and what was to be lamented, losing for that reason the indulgences by tho holy father Pope Urban IV. graciously conceded : Therefore, (as it seemed most wholesome to the said father William) the people of the city were inclined that the play should be played on one day, and the procession on another, so that the people might attend divine service at the churches on the said feast, for the indulgences aforesaid : Wherefore, Peter Buckey mayor of the city, Richard Russell, late mayor of the staple of York, with the sheriffs, aider- men, and others, of the number of the twenty-four, being met in the council chamber on the 6th of June, 1426, and by the said wholesome exhortations and admonitions of the said father William, being incited that it is no crime, nor can it offend God if good be converted into better ; and having diligently considered of the premises, unanimously determined to convene the citizens together in common-hall, for tbe purpose of having their consent that the premises should be better reformed ; whereupon the mayor so convened the citizens on the 10th of the same month and made solemn proclamation that the play of Corpus Christi should be played every year on the vigil of the said feast, and the procession made on the day of the feast.’ A solemn procla- mation for the play of Corpus Christi, made on the aforesaid vigil, commands on behalf of the king, the mayor, and the sheriffs of the city, that no man go armed to the disturbance of the peace and the play, and the hindering of the procession, but that they leave their weapons at their inns, upon pain of forfeiture of then weapons, and imprisonment of their bodies, save the keepers o{ the pageants and officers of the peace; that the players in tho pageants play at ’the places assigned, and no where else, on pain of forty shillings ; that men of the crafts, and all others that find torches, come forth in array as in manner aforetime ; that the craftsmen bring forth their pageants in order and course, by good players well arrayed, and openly speaking, upon pain of one hun- dred shillings, to be paid to the chamber without pardon ; and that every player be ready in his pageant at convenient time, that is to 212 say, at the (first) betwixt four and five of the clock in the morning, and then all other pageants following, each after the other in order, without delay, upon pain of six shillings and eight pence. William Bowes, mayor, by regulation, dated the 7th of June, 1417, or- dains, that all the pageants of the play of Corpus Christi should be brought forth in order by the artificers of the city of York, and begin to play first at the gates of the priory of the holy Trinity in Mikelgate, next at the door of Robert Harpham, next at the door of the late John Gyseburn, next at Skelder-gate-hend and North-strete-hend, next at the end of Conyng-strete towards Cas- tel-gate, next at the end of Jubir-gate , next at the door of Henry Wyman deceased in Conyng-strete , then at the Common-hall at the end of Conynge-strete, then at the door of Adam del Brigs, deceased, in Stayne-gate , then at the end of Stayn-gate at the Minster-gates, then at the end of Girdler-gate in Piter-gate , and lastly, upon the Pavement , See. And father William de Melton, willing to destroy sin, and a great lover of virtue, having, by preaching, exhorted the populace that they would cause to be removed all public concubines in fornication or adultery, where* fore the mayor, by consent of the community, ordained that they should depart the city within eight days, on pain of imprisonment, unless any of them should find good: security that she would not exercise her illegal vocation for the future. It appears from the regulation of the pageants for this play at York, in the mayoralty of William Alne, in 1415, compiled by Roger Burton, the town-clerk, that they were fifty-four in number. They commenced with ' God the Father Almighty, creating and forming the heavens, angels, archangels, Lucifer, and the angels that fell with him into hell the tanners performed this: the next, being 1 God the Father in his own substance, creating the earth, and all which is therein, in the space of five days,’ was represented by the plasterers : the third 1 God the Father creating Adam of the slime of the earth, and making Eve of the rib, and inspiring them with the spirit of life/ was played by the card-makers the fifty-fourth, 'Jesus, Mary, twelve apostles, four angels with trumpets, and four with a lance with two scourges, four good, and 2J3 four bad spirits, and six devils/ was performed by the mercers. The town-clerk’s entry mentions the torches and torch-bearers In the procession : 1 Porters, eight torches ; coblers, four torches 5 cordwainers, fourteen torches ; cottellers, two torches ; wevers, — torches ; carpenters, six torches ; chaloners, four torches ; fullers, four torches; girdellers, — torches; taillers, — torches; fifty-eight citizens had torches alike on the day of Corpus Christi ; and it was ordained that the porters and coblers should go first ; then of the right the wevers and cordwainers; on the left the fullers, cutler, girdellers, chaloners, carpenters, and taillours : then the better sort of citizens ; and after, the twenty-four (common council- men), the twelve (aldermen), the mayor, and four torches of Mr. Thomas Buck ton. The fraternity of Corpus Christi at York was very popular. Several hundreds of persons were annually admitted, and it was supported chiefly by the annual collection made at the procession. The religious ceremony of the Corpus Christi play and procession was instituted there about the year 1250 ; it was to bo celebrated each year on the Thursday after Trinity Sunday ; and this play, as a piece of religious pageantry, was so much esteemed that it was acted in that city till the twenty-sixth year of Queen Elizabeth, 1584.* The mode of performing the Mysteries at York is thus minutely particularized, in order to convey some notion of the general method of representing them in other cities : there is little doubt that the corporations strove to outvie each other in the elabo- ration and splendor of their exhibitions. Corpus Christi day, at Newcastle upon Tyne, was celebrated with similar exhibitions by the incorporated trades. The earliest mention of the performance of mysteries there, is in the ordinary of the coopers for 1426. In 1437, the barbers played the Bap- tizing of Christ. In 1568, the offering of Abraham and Isaac w^as exhibited by the slaters. By the ordinary of the goldsmiths, plumbers, glaziers, pewterers, and painters, dated 1436, they were * Drake’s York, p. 223, 246. App. p. xxix. The town-clerk’s order for the pageants of the play is set out at length in the Appendix. 214 commanded to play 'at their feast tne three kings of Ooleyn.’ In the books of the fullers and dyers, one of the charges for the play of 1564, is, ‘ Item for 3 yard and a d . lyn cloth for God’s coat, 35 . 2 d. ob.’ From the ordinary of different trades it seems that about 1578, the Corpus C-hristi plays were on the decline, and never acted but by special command of the magistrates of New- castle. They are spoken of as the general plays of the town of Newcastle, and when thought necessary by the mayor to be set forth and played, the millers were to perform the Deliverance of Israel ; the lrouse-carpenters, the Burial of Christ ; the masons, the Burial of our lady Saint Mary the Virgin. Between the first and last mentioned periods, there are many minutes in the trades’ books of the acting in different years, which may be seen in Brand’s History of Newcastle, together with the only vestige thaCremains of the Newcastle Mysteries, entitled, ‘ Noah’s Ark, or the shipwright’s ancient play, or dirge,’ wherein God, an Angel, Noah and his wife, and the Devil, are the characters. In this, as well as the Chester Mystery of the same subject, the wife of Noah is a vixen ; the last words she says to him, are, The devil of hell thee speed T * ship when thou shalt go. The performance of miracle plays is noticed in the ancient piece written against the mendicant friars, entitled, Peres the Ploughman’s Crede — We haunten no taurnes, lie liobelen abouten Atjmarketes, and miracles we medely vs neuer.* Chaucer, also, in the Wife of Bath’s Prologue, makes her say — Therefore made I my Visitations To Vigilis and to Processions, Tq prechings eke, and to Pilgrimagis, To plays of Miracles and Mariages, And werid on me my gay skarlit g.ites, &c.f Lydgate, the monk of Bury, and the follower of Chaucer, as his disciple at an innumerable c^tance, composed a i processior of pageants from the creation.’ t * Ed. 1653. Sig. Biij. + Chaucer, Urry’s Ed. p. 80, 555.9. J Ritson’s Bibltog. Poetica, p. 79. 215 In the reign of Henry VI I. 1487, that king, in his castle ot Winchester, was entertained on a Sunday while at dinner with the performance of Christ’s Descent into hell, by the choir beys of Hyde Abbey and St. Swithin’s Priory, two large monasteries there;* and in the same reign, 1489, there were shows and cere- monies, and (religious) plays, exhibited in the palace at West- minster. f On the feast of St. Margaret, in 1511, the Miracle play of the holy Martyr St. George, was acted on a stage in an open field at Bassingborne, in Cambridgeshire, at which were a minstrel and three waits hired from Cambridge, with a property-man, and a painter.J It appears from the j Earl of Northumberland's Household Book , (1512) that the children of his chapel performed Mysteries during the twelve days of Christmas, and at Easter, under the direction of his Master of the revels. Bishop Percy cites several particulars of the regulated sums payable to 6 parsones’ and others for these performances. The exhibiting scripture dramas on the great festivals entered into the regular establishment, and formed part of the domestic regulations of our ancient nobility; and what is more remarkable, it was as much the business of the chaplain in those days to compose plays for the family, as it is now for him to make sermons. § At London, in the year 1556, the Passion of Christ was per- formed at the Grey Friars before the Lord Mayor, the privy- council, and many great estates of the realm. In 1577, the same play was performed at the same place, on the day that war was proclaimed in London against France ; and in that year, the holiday of St. Olave, the patron of the church in Sil- ver Street dedicated to that saint, being celebrated with great solemnity, at eight o’clock at night, a play of the miraculous life of St. Olave, was performed for four hours, and concluded with many religious plays. The acting of religious plays experienced * Warton, vol. ii. p. 206. X Antiq. Repert. and Warton, vol. iii. p. 820, | Percy’s Reliques, vol, i, p. 13Q f Ibid. p. 289. 216 interruption during the reign of Elizabeth, and occasionally at other periods. Malone thinks that the last Mystery represented in England was that of Christ’s Passion, in the reign of king James I. Prynne relates that it was performed at Ely House, in Holborn, when Gondomar, the Spanish Ambassador, lay there, on Good Friday, at night, and that thousands were present * * Prynne mentions this performance in his Histrio-mastix, the Player's scourge , or Actor's Tragedg , 4to. 1633, p. 117. n. For this work Prynne was pilloried and fined on a star-chamber prosecution. Some fourteen years afterwards there came out a tract entitled, ‘ Mr. William Prynne, his Defence of Stage Plays , or a Retractation of a former boolc of his called Histrio-Mastix, 1649,* four leaves 4to. This piece begins with, * Whereas this Tyrannicall abominable lewd schismaticall hseretical Army, are bent in a wilful and forcible way to destroy all Lawfull Government it recites tlie violence Prynne endured by arrest, ‘ for no offence but onely endeavouring to discharge my conscience, which is a thing I shall always do, without fearing any man, any arm of flesh, any Potentacie, Prelacy, super, intendency, or power terrestriall or internall :’ then it proceeds to say, that against this wicked and Tyrannicall Army ; they did lately in a most inhumane, cruell, rough, and barbarous manner take away the poor Players from their Houses, being there met to discharge the duty of their callings.’ After inveighing against this proceeding it adds, ‘ But now I know what the malicious, ill-spoken, clamorous and obstre- perous people will object against me ; namely, That 5 1 did once write a book against Stage-plays called Histrio-mastix, for which I underwent a cruel censure in the Starchamber. I confesse it is true, I did once so, but it was when I had not so clear a light as I now have ; and it is no disparagement for any man to alter his judgment upon better informa- tion ; besides it was done long ago, and when the king (whose virtues I did not then so perfectly understand,) governed without any controul, which was the time that I took to shew my conscience and courage, to oppose that power which was the highest.’ After more of the same kind, it says, ‘ But that playes are lawfull things, and are to be allowed as recreation for honest men, I need not quote many authors to prove it;’ and then twelve are quoted; and it being objected that actors personated females, it declares, that ‘ men’s putting on of women’s apparel is not against the Scripture in a plain and ordinary science.’ Finally, * I may conclude that good Playes which are not profane, lewd, bad, blasphemous, or ungodly, may be acted; and that this wicked and Tyrannical Army ought not to hinder, to impede, let, prohibit, or forbid the acting of them ; which I dare maintain to all the world ; for I was never afrayed to suffer in a good cause.’ With these words the pamphlet ends, but not the story. For after this jmblication a large posting bill, dated ‘ From the Kings Head in the Strand, signed 217 In Cornwall they had interludes in e Cornish iangua e from scripture history. These were called the Guanj Miracle plays, and were sometimes performed in the open fields, at the bottom of earthen amphitheatres, the people standing around on the in- clined plane, which was usually forty or fifty feet diameter. The players did not learn their parts, but were followed by a prompter, called the ordinary, with the book in his hand. Long after the mysteries had ceased elsewhere, and the regular stage been esta- blished, they were exhibited in Cornwall to the country people, who flocked from all sides to hear and see the devils and devices that were provided to delight the eye, as well as the ear. Two MSS. in the Bodleian Lbrary contain the C mis Plays of the Deuge, the Passion, and the Resurrection.* According to Strutt, when mysteries were the only plays, the stage consisted of three platforms, one above another. On the uppermost sat God the Father, surrounded by his angels; on the second the glorified saints and on the las) and lowest, men who had not yet passed from this life. On one side of the lowest platform was the resemblance of a dark pitchy cavern, frosn whence issued the appearance of fire and flames ; and when it was necessary, the audience was treated with hideous yellings and noises in imitation of the howlings and cries of wretched souls tormented by relentless demons. From this yawning cave the devils thetvi selves constantly ascended to delight, and to instruct the spectators. The reader will doubtless recollect that a theatrical Hell has been mentioned before ; an old author, whose description of Hell is William Prynno,’ and headed * Tiie Vindication,’ recites the title of the pamphlet, and declares it * to be a mere forijery and imposture. Tho style of tho ‘ Retractation,’ so thoroughly imitates Frynne’s that nothing in it but the stultification ol his general opinions could occasion a doubt of its genuineness ; and the imposition might still pass pretty current if one of Prymic’s bills were not in existence. A copy of this fierce denial is-in Mr. J. P. Collier’s Poetical Decameron , vol. ii, 322. As Mr. Collier says of the Pseudo- Pryunc, that it is a rarity which he had n ver seen, 1 thought an extract from such a curiosity worth a corner. * Borlasc’s Antiq. Cornwall, p. 1 1)5. Borlase’s Nat. Hist. Cornwall, p. 205. Carcw’s Cornwall, p. 7L See the account of the mystery of Veximicl, y . 173, ante. 29 218 similar, had probably seen it exhibited on the ecclsiastina stage : — An hideous hole all vaste, withouten shape, Of endless depth, orewhelm’d with ragged stone. With ougly mouth, and griesly iawes doth gape, And to our sight confounds itselfe in one* The Mysteries were usually acted in churches or chapels upon tem- porary scaffolds : when enough performers could not be found among the chr 6 r y, the churchwardens employed secular p'ayers, and some* times borrowed dresses from other parishes. ' The Pageant of the Company of Sheremen and Taylors in Coventry , as performed by them on the Festival of Corpus Christie is a manuscript belonging to the Corporsticn of Coventry, bearing the following inscription : ‘Thys matter newly correcie’ be Robart Croo the xiiij day of Marche, fenysschid in the yere of owre lord god mccccc & xxxiiij.’ A Coventry gentleman, of curious research in ancient lore, who was allowed to transcribe it, printed * twelve copies the purpose of bringing it more immediately to the knowledge of his antiquarian friends.’ Its events are from the Annunciation, to the murder of the Innocents. Isaiah speaks the Prologue, and prophesies the incarnation. Joseph’s Jealousv being a conspiu s scene, a portion is extracted for comparison with the same subject in Mystery V. Joseph s perceiving the Virgin’s pregnancy, taxes her with incon- stancy, in his absence; and inquires who had been with her. She asserts her innocence, and affirms that she had no one, but the heavenly messenger. Josoff . — Sey notsoo. womon, for schame ley be. Ye be with chyld, soo wondurs grett. Ye nede no more th’r of to tret Agpnse all right; Forsothe thys chylde, dame, ys not myne , Alas! that eyv’ with ymn yne, I suld see this syght. • Mirrour for Magistrates — Sackvil’s Induction. \ Strutt’s Sports, p. 14 X Printed at Coventry, 1817- 22 leaves, 4to. In the su mer of 18] 9, I was obligingly indulged with the loan of a cop # and permitto extracts. 2J9 Tri. me, womon, whose ys this chyld ? Mare — None but youris, husebond soo myld. And thatt shaibe seyne. Josoff . — But myne, alias ! alas ! why sev ye soo * Wele awey, womon; now may I goo Be gyld, as many a nothur ys. Marc. — Na, truly sir, ye be not be gylde, Nor yet, with spott of syn, I am nodefylde; Trust yt well huse bonde. Josoff . — Huse bond! in feythe, and that acold! A waylle awey, Josoff! as throw ur’ olde, Lyke a foie, now ma I stand and truse. But in seyth, mare, th’u art in syn, Soo moche ase I have cheyrischyd the dame and all the kyn. Be hynd my bake to s’ve me thus. All olde men Insampull take be me. How I am be gylid, here may you see, To wed soo young a chyld. Now fare well, Mare, I leyve the here alone, Worthe the dam and thy warkis ycheone ; For I woll noo more be gylid be, for frynd nor fooe. Now of this ded I am soo dull, And off my lyff I am so full, no farthur ma I goo. An Angel, whose explanation removes Joseph’s jealousy, derres him to comfort Mary, for, a cleyne meydin ys sche Sche hath conseyved with owt any trayne The seycond p’son in trenete. The homely adoration of the infant by the Shepherds is prettily told. The first Shepherd gives his pipe to him, and says, I have nothyng to present with thi chylde But my pype ; hold ! hold ! take yt in thy hond. Where in moche pleysure that I have fond. The second Shepherd presents his hat — 220 Holde ! take thow, here, my hatt on thy hedde And now, off won thyng, thow art well sped. The Third Shepherd offers his gloves to him — Have here my myttens, to pytt en thi hondis. Other treysure have I none to present the with. With reference to theatrical performances by the clergy, it is affirmed in the Beehive of the Romish Church, that ‘ Christ hath not done anie thing in his death and passion, but they do plaie and counterfeits the same after him, so trimlie aud livelie, that no phier nor juggler is able to doe it better. Yea, do we not see * On closing the notice of the Coventry Mysteries, it may be observed, that there can be no doubt that Adam and Eve appeared on the stage naked. In the second Pageant of Coventry MS. at the British Museum, Eve on being seduced by the serpent, induces Adam to taste the forbidden fruit. He immediately perceives their nakedness, ar 1 says to her, Se us nakyd be for & be hynde, * * * * Woman ley this leff on thi pryvyte And with this leff I shall hyde me. Warton observes, (vol. i. p. 244.) ‘ That this extraordinary spectacle was beheld by a numerous company of both sexes with great com- posure : they had the authority of scripture for such a representation, and they gave matters just as they found them in third chapter of Genesis.’ They are also naked in the Chester Mystery, and clothe themselves in the same way. * The present age rejects as gross and indelicate those free compo- sitions which our ancestors not only countenanced but admired. Yet, in fact, the morals of our forefathers were as strict and perhaps purer and sounder than our own; and we have been taught to look up to them as genuine models of the honest, incorruptible character of Englishmen. They were strangers indeed to delicacy of taste ; they beheld the broad and unpruned delineations of nature, and thought no harm; while we, on the most distant approach to freedom of thought and expression, turn away in disgust, and vehemently express our displeasure. Hurnsu nature is ever the same, but society is always progressive, and at every stage of refinement the passions require stricter control; not because they are more violent, but because the circumstances which excite them are multiplied. If we trace back the progress of society to its primitive state, we shall find that the innocence of mankind is in an inverse ratio to eir advancement in knowledge.’ — CromeJc's Remains, p. 20. 221 likewise, that uppon good Friday they haue a Crucifixe, either of wood, or of stone, which they laie downe softlie vpon the ground, that euerie bodie, may come creeping to it, vpon handes and knees, and so kisse the feet of it, as men are accustomed to doe to the Pope of Rome: And then they put him in a graue, till Easter: at which time they take him uppe againe, and sing Re - surrexit, non est hie , Alleluia: He is risen, he is not here, God be thanked. Yea, and in some places, they make the graue in a hie place in the church where men must goe up manie steppes, which are decked with blacke cloth from aboue to beneath, and vpon euery steppe standeth a siluer candlesticke with a waxe candle burning in it, and there doe walke souldiours in harnesse, as bright as Saint George, which keepe the graue, till the priests come and take him up : and then commeth sodenlie a flash of fire, wherewith they are all afraid and fall downe : and then vpstartes the man, and they begin to sing Alleluia , on all hands, and then the clock striketh eleuen Then a gaine vpon Whit- sunday they begin to play a new Enterlude, for then they send downe a Doue out of an Owles nest, deuised in the roof of the church : but first they cast out rosin and gunpouder, w*. wilde fire, to make the children afraid, and that must needes be the holie ghost, which commeth with thunder and lightening. Likewise vpon Ascension day, they pull Christ vp on hie w\ ropes aboue the clouds, by a vice deuised in the roofe of the church, and they bale him vp, as if they would pull him vp to the gallowes: and there stande the poore Priests, and looke so pitifully after their God, as a dogge for his dinner. In summe a man doeth often spende a pennie or two to see a play of Robin Hood, or a Morisse daunse, which were a greate deale better bestowed vppon these apishe toies of these good Priests, which counterfeit all these matters so hand- somelie, that it will do a man as much good to see them, as in frostie weather to go naked. I speake not of tneir perambula- tions, processions, and going about the towne, carving their cru- cefixes alongst the streetes, and there play and counterfoite the whole passion, so trimlie with all the seuen sorrowes of our Lady, • 222 as though it had been nothing else but a simple u.d p.ain Enter- lude.'* * Beehive of the Romish Church, p. 291. The quotation from this curious work is illustrated by the following notices : — 1 . Creeping to the Cross. — It is related in Davies's Rites of the Cathedral of Durham , (8vo. 1672, p. 51.) that in that cathedral, over our Lady of Bolton’s altar, there was a marvellous, lively, and beau- tiful image of ths picture of our lady, called the Lady of Bolton, which picture was made to open with gimmes , (or linked fastenings) from the breast downward ; and within the said image was wrought and pic- tured the image of our Saviour marvellously finely gilt, holding up his hands, and holding betwixt his hands a large fair Crucifix of Christ, all of gold; the which crucifix was to be taken forth every Good Friday, and and every man did creep unto it that was in the church at that time ; and afterwards it was hung up again within the said image; and every principal day the said image was opened, that every man might see pictured within her, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, most curiously and finely gilt; and both tho sides within her were very finely varnished with green varnish and flowers of gold, which was a goodly sight for all the beholders thereof. — It is further stated, by the same author, (p. 21.) that within that cathedral, upon Good Friday, there was marvellous solemn service, in which service time, after the Passion was sung, two of the ancient monks took a goodly large crucifix, all of gold, of the picture of our Saviour Christ nailed upon the Cross, laying it upon a velvet cushion, having St. Cuthbert’s arms upon it, all embroidered with gold, bringing it betwixt them upon the cushion to the lowest greeses or steps in the quire, and there betwixt them did hold the said picture of our Saviour, sitting on either side of it. And then one of the said monks did rise, and went a pretty space from it, and setting himself upon his knees with his shoes put off’, very reverently he crept upon his knees unto the said cross, and most reverently did kiss it ; and after him the other monk did so likewise, and then they sate down on either side of the said cross, holding it betwixt them. Afterward, the prior came forth of his stall, and did sit him down upon his knees with his shoes off in like sort, and did creep also unto the said cross, and all the monks after him, one after another in the same manner and order ; in the mean time, the whole quire singing a hymn. The service being ended, the said two monks carried the cross to the sepulchre with great reverence. — There are some accounts of creeping to the cross in Brand's Popular Antiquities, (vol. i. p. 129). He mentions, from an ancient Ceremonial of the kings of England, that on Good Friday, the usher was to lay a carpet for the king to creep to the cross upon, and that the queen and her ladies were also to creep. 2. Making of the sepulchre was a practice founded upon ancient tradition, that the second coming af Christ would be on Easter-eve, and therefore Jerome conceived that the people should await Ju the church • until midnight for Christ’s appearance. The making of the sepulchre 223 This citation from the Bee-hive is in part exemplified by a translation, printed by Copland, from an ancient novel in Dutch in the church, and watching it, remained in England till the reformation, Davies's account of it is worth notice. In the abbey church of Durham, there was very solemn service upon Easter day, betwixt three and four o’clock in the moining, in honour of the Resurrection; when two of the eldest monks of the quire came to the Sepulchre, set up upon Good Friday after the Passion, all covered with red velvet, and embroidered with gold, and then did cense it, either of the monks with a pair of silver censers, sitting on their knees before the sepulchre. Then they both rising, came to the sepulchre, out of which, with great reverence, they took a marvellous beautiful image of our Saviour, representing the Resurrection with a cross in his hand, in the breast whereof was inclosed, in most bright crystal, the holy Sacrament of the altar, through the which crystal the blessed Host was conspicuous to the beholders. Then after the elevation of the said picture, carried by the said two monks, upon a fair velvet cushion all embroidered, singing the anthem of Christus resurgens, they brought it to the high altar setting it on the midst thereof, the two monks kneeling before the altar, and censing it all the time that the rest of the whole quire were singing the aforesaid anthem ; which anthem being ended, the two monks took up the cushion and picture from the altar, supporting it betwixt them, and proceeding in procession from the high altar to the south quire door, where there were four ancient gentlemen belonging to the quire, appointed to attend their coming, holding up a most rich canopy of purple velvet, tasselled round about with red silk, and a goodly gold fringe; and at every corner of the canopy did stand one of these ancient gentlemen, to bear it over the said images with the holy sacrament earned by the two monks round about the church, the whole quire waiting upon it with goodly torches, and great store of other lights ; all singing, rejoicing, and praying to God most devoutly till they came to the high altar again ; upon which they placed the said image, there to remain till ascension day. 3. The Play of Robin Hood was a performance in the May games, in which a person, representing that bold ontlaw, presided as the Lord of the May, attended by Maid Marian, his faithful mistress, as Lady of the May, and by persons appropriately dressed, denominated Robin Hood’s men. Bishop Latimer complains, in one of his sermons, that coming to preach in a certain town upon a holiday, he found the church-door locked, and was told the parish could not hear him that day, for they were gone to gather for Robin Hood, it being Robin Hood’s day. The good bishop says, that for all his rochet, he was fain to give place to Robin Hood. King Henry VIII. was entertained with a May 224 entitled, ‘a tnerg Slegt of a man that Snag callcti P?ofole=> glajJ/ (in the original Ulenspiegle ) .* Bishop Percy cites it to the following effect. Owlglass, whose waggish tricks are the subject of this work, after many adventures, comes to live with a priest who makes him his parish clerk. This priest is de- scribed as keeping a concubine, who had but one eye, to whom Owlglass owed a grudge for revealing his rogueries to his master. At Easter, when the Resurrection was to be played to the illite- rate people, the priest took his concubine and put her in the se- pulchre to personate an angel. Upon this, Owlglass provided three of the simplest persons in the town to play the three Maries ; the parson himself was to play Christ with a banner in his hand* Owlglass then said to his three simple performers, when the angel inquires whom you seek, you are to say the parson’s con- cubine with one eye. At the proper part of the representation the Angel duly inquired whom they sought, who answered as the waggish parish clerk taught them, ' The priest’s concubine with one eye.’ The woman hearing this, appears to have suspected Owlglass, for, rising from the grave, she aimed a blow at his cheek, which missed him, and fell upon one of the men per- sonating the three Maries, who immediately returning it, she seized him by the hair. The man’s wife ran up to assist her husband ; the priest himself threw down his banner to help his game at Shooter’s-hill by the officers of his guards, amounting to two hundred, clothed in green, headed by one who personated Robin Hood. He met the king as he was taking his morning ride, attended by the queen, and nobility of both sexes, and inviting his majesty to see how he and his companions lived, the royal train was forthwith conducted by the archers, blowing their horns, to a green wood under the hill, and ushered into an harbour of boughs, formed into chambers covered with flowers and sweet herbs, where Robin Hood excusing the want of more delicate refreshment said to the king, ‘ Sir, we outlaws, usually break- fast upon venison, and have no other food to you and the king and queen sat down, and were served with venison and wine. They were well pleased with their entertainment, and on their departure were met by two ladies, splendidly apparelled, as the Lady May and the Lady Flora, riding in a rich open chariot, who, saluting the king with divers goodly songs, brought him to Greenwich. A Play of Robin Hood for the May Games, is in Dodsley’s collection. — Strutt's Sports , p. 314. * Percy’s Reliques of Anc. Eng. Poetry, vol. i. p. 132. 225 concubine ; a general conflict ensued ; and Oudglass seeing them all together by the ears in the body of the church, went his waj from the village and returned no more.* Bishop Percy thinks the general name of Mysteries was applied to these performances from the mjster'ous subjects that were frequently chosen for representa- tion, such as the Incarnation, Passion, and Resurrection of Christ, &c. Warton quotes from Lambarde’s Topographical Dictionary, written about the year 1570, that during the days of ceremonial religion, the priests at Witney, in Oxfordshire, used to exhibit a puppet-show of The Resurrection , fyc. The puppets represented Christ, Mary, and other personages ; one of them in the charac- ter of a waking watchman, espying Christ to arise, made a con- tinual noise, like the sound caused by the meeting of two sticks and was therefore commonly called Jack Snacker of Wytney. Lambarde, when a child, saw the like toy in St. Paul’s Cathedral, London, on the feast of Whitsuntide ; where the Descent of the Holy Ghost was performed by a white pigeon being let to fly out of a hole in the midst of the roof of the great isle. The pigeon with a long censer, which came down from the same place almost to the ground, was swung up and down at such a length, that it reached with one sweep almost to the west-gate of the church, and with the other to the choir stairs; the censer breathing out over the whole church and the assembled multitude a most pleasant per- fume from the sweet things that burnt within it. Lambarde says that the like dumb+shows w r ere used every where, to garnish sundry parts of the church service ; with spectacles of the nativity, passion, and ascension. After the Reformation, king Edward VI. wrote a comedy cal- led the Whore of Babylon. An incredible number of religious # There .is a copy of Howleglas in the British Museum. Bishop Percy, who appears to have used Garrick’s c good for nothing but to devour corn; wherefore God Almighty raised up an army of mice to do judgment upon him, from whom he escaped to a tower in the middle of the Rhine, whither the mice swam, and miserably devoured him. This story was told in a pageant by a wooden building apparently on fire ; people enclosed within, put their hands through the bars of the window imploring relief ; a soldier with a torch in one hand, stabs at them with a dagger grasped in the other ; the archbishop, robed, mitred and crosiered, follows dignifiedly ; while Avarice infuses her thoughts into his ear with a pair of bellows ; lastly, a dart from which mice are hung by the back, is uplifted against him by death.* Strutt remarks that Pageants,’ though commonly exhibited in the great towns and cities of England on solemn and joyful occa- sion, were more frequent in London, on account of its being the theatre for the entertainment of foreign monarchs, and for the procession of our own kings and queens to their coronation, or on their return from abroad ; besides which, there were the cere- monials incident at stated periods, such as the setting of the mid- summer watch, and the Lord Mayor's Show. Accordingly a considerable number of different artificers were kept at the city’s expense to furnish the machinery for the Pageants, and to deco- rate them ; and a great part of Leaden Hall was anciently appro- priated to painting and depositing them. The fronts of the * The story is agreeably versified, by Mr. Southey, in the ballad of God's Judgment on a Bishop. — Minor Poems, 1815, vol. iii. p. 66. 31 234 houses in the streets through which the processions passed, were covered with rich adornments of tapestry, arras, and cloth of gold ; the chief magistrates and most opulent citizens usually appeared on horseback in sumptuous habits, and joined the caval- cade, while the ringing of bells, the sound of music from various quarters, and the shouts of the populace, nearly stunned the ears of the spectators. At certain distances, in places appointed for the purpose, the Pageants were erected, which were temporary buildings representing castles, palaces, gardens, rocks or forests, as the occasion required, where nymphs, fauns, satyrs, gods, god- desses, angels, and devils, appeared in company with giants, sa- vages, dragons, saints, knights, buffoons, and dwarfs, surrounded by minstrels and choristers ; the heathen mythology, the legends of chivalry, and Christian divinity, were ridiculously jumbled to- gether without meaning; and the exhibitions usually concluded with jdu.ll pedantic harangues exceedingly tedious, and replete with the grossest adulation.* AVarton is of opinion,' that it was not until about the reign of Henry VI. that the performers in the Pageants began to recite. From a few notices some estimate may be formed of the consequence in which they were held, and the nature of the exhibition. Strype says, that Pageants were exhibited in London when Queen Eleanor rode through the city to her coronation in 1236,f and again in 1298, on occasion of the victory obtained by Ed- ward I. over the Scots.J There were Pageants in 1357, when Edward the black prince brought John king of France prisoner through the city ; in 1392, when Richard II. passed through London after the citizens, by submission, and the Queen’s inter, cession, had obtained the restoration of their charter ; and again, in 1415, upon the entry of Henry V. after the battle cf Agin- court.§ In 1431, when Henry VI. entered Paris as king of France, he * Strutt’s Sports, Introd, p. xxiii. f Glory of Regality, by Mr. Arthur Taylor, p. 251. % Ibid. p. 236, l Jones’s Biogr. Dram. art. Pageant. 235 was met there by the national and municipal authorities, accom- panied by the nine worthies on horseback richly armed.* In 1445, on the same king’s marriage with queen Margaret, when she approached London, the mayor, aldermen, sheriffs, and the crafts, wearing their respective cognizances, went forth to meet her, and brought her in great state through the city, where were sumptuous and costly pageants, with verses by Lydgate, and resem- blance of divers old histories, to the great comfort of the Queen and her attendants.! On the queen of Henry VI. visiting Coventry in 1455, at Bab- lake in that city, there was a Jesse over the gate, showing two speeches made by Isaiah and Jeremiah, in compliment to the Queen, and comparing her to the root of Jesse. Within the gate at the east end of the church, St. Edward, and St. John the Evangelist, were equally polite in their welcome to her majesty. Afterwards the conduit in the ‘ Smythforde-strete’ was right well arrayed, and there were showed the four speeches of the four cardinal virtues. At the cross in the i Croschepyng’ were divers angels censing ahigh on the cross, and wine running out at divers places. Between the cross and the conduit were nine pageants, and in every pageant a speech from one of the nine conquerors. Joshua in his speech told her majesty that if any one dared to do her wrong, he would fight for her: David told her that in dainties he had lived all his life, had slain Goliah, and would obey her as a kind knight for the love of her liege Lord King Henry. The conduit was arrayed with as many virgins as might be thereupon ; and there was made a great dragon, and St. Margaret slaying him by miracle, with a suitable speech from her.f On the 24th of April, 1474, Prince Edward coming out of Wales to Coventry, was welcomed by the mayor and commonalty. There was a station with three patriarchs there standing with Jacob’s twelve sons, with minstrelsy of harp and dulcimers, an * Ibid. p. 267. t Ibid. p. 268. X Pageant of the Sheremen and Taylors ; Coventry, 1817, 4fc 0 < 236 speech from one of the patriarchs. At the cross were tnree pro phets standing, and upon the cross above were children of Israel singing and casting down sweet cakes and flowers, and four pipes running wine. Upon the conduit was St. George and a king’s daughter kneeling before him with a lamb, and the father and mother in a tower above, beholding St. George saving their daugh- ter from the dragon, and the conduit running wine in three places, and minstrelsy of organ playing.* In 1486, king Henry VII. after the coronation, made a pro gress to the north, with a large attendance of nobility. Three miles from York the king in a gown of cloth of gold furred with ermine, was received by the sheriffs and citizens with their recorder who welcomed him with a speech. Half a mile without the gate he was received by processions of friars and dignified clergy, who with an immense multitude attended him to the gate of the city? where was a pageant of divers persons and minstrelsy, and thereby stood a crowned king, by name Ebraneus, who had a versified speech. At the hither end of ‘House Brigge’ was another pageant garnished with ships and boats, and Solomon in his habit royally clothed, had another speech. At the turning into ‘ Conyeux-street’ there was a pageant of the assumption of our Lady, with her speech. At the end of ‘ Conyeux-street’ was another stage with a pageant, wherein stood king David, armed and crowned, with a naked sword in his hand, also making a speech. In divers parts of the city were hung tapestry and other cloths, and galleries from one side of the street over athwart to the other, with casting out of sweet cakes, wafers, aud comfits, in quantity like hailstones, for joy and rejoicing at the king’s coming.f On the 25th of November next year, 1487, Elizabeth, queen to Henry VII. departed from Greenwich by water, to her coronation. She was attended by the city authorities and companies in their barges richly decorated, but especially a barge called the bachelors’ barge was garnished passing all the rest, with a great red dragon spouting flames of fire into the * Pageant of the Sherernen and Taylors, Leland, Collect, vohiv. p. 185. 237 Thames, and many other ‘ gentlemanlie’ pageants curiously devised to do her highness sport ; and so attended, she was landed at the tower, where she slept. On the morrow her progress through the city to Westminster was magnificently welcomed by singing children, some arrayed like angels, and others like virgins, to sing sweet songs as she passed along.* In 1501, on the Princess Catharine of Spain arriving in London to be married to Prince Arthur, her procession through the city wa very magnificent. In the Pageants, which were numerous and superbly furnished, the principal actors or speakers were not only God the Father, St. Catharine, and St. Ursula, but king Alphonsus the astronomer and an ancestor of the Princess, a senator, an angel, Job, Boethius, Nobility, and Virtue. These characters sustained a dialogue.f On St. Paul’s day in January 1.502, ‘ James king of Scots,’ by his proxy, Patrick Earl of Bothwell, was affianced to the princess Margaret, daughter of Henry VII.; on the morning after which there was in the hall a goodly pageant, curiously wrought with ‘ fenestrallis,’ having many lights burning in the same, in manner of a lanthorn, out of which sorted divers sorts of 6 moriskes,’t The same year, on the arrival of the Princess in Edin- burgh, as queen of Scotland, at the entrance of the town was a painted gate with two ‘ towrells,’ and a window in the midst, and at the windows of the ‘towrells,’ angels singing joyously, and at the middle window was likewise an angel presenting the keys of the town to the queen. In the midst of the town was a ‘ scarfawst’ where was represented Paris and the three god- desses, with Mercury, who gave him the apple of gold for the fairest. In the * scarfawst ’ was represented also the salutation of Gabriel to the Virgyne, and the solemnization of the marriage be- tween the Virgin and Joseph. Further on was another new made gate upon which were the four Virtues : Justice holding in her right hand a naked sword, and the balances in the other, tram- * Glory of Regality, p. 276. f Warton, vol. ii, p. 202. t Leland. Collect, vol. iv. p. 263. 238 pled upon Nero ; Fortitude armea, neld a shaft, and trod on Holo- fernes; Temperance held in her hand the bit of f an horse 4 * under her feet was Epicurus; Prudence held in her hand a * Syerge,’ and stood upon Sardanapalus. With these figures were tabrets that played merrily, while the noble company past through,* When Charles V. Emperor of Germany visited Henry VIII. in England, his reception in the city of London was graced splendid pageants, the descriptions of which are still in existence.^ The coronation of Ann Boleyn on the 1st of June, 1533, was pre ceded by a procession through London, after she landed from Green- wich. On this occasion the citizens devised marvellous pageants, in which were Apollo with the muses, and St. Anne, with her children. The three Graces were on Cornhill, and the cardinal Virtues in Fleet- street.^; On the 9th of February, 1546-7, king Edward VI. proceeded from the city of London, in great state, to his coronation at West- minster. The crafts and aldermen stood arrayed in order ; priests and clerks, with their crosses and censers, censed him as he passed . tapestry, arras, and cloths of gold and silver, were hung on the houses, and rich streamers and banners floated in the air. The procession was very splendid. In various parts of the city were goodly pageants and devices, and therein goodly melody, and eloquent speeches of noble histories. 1. At the conduit in Cornhiil, was a pageant garnished with rich arras, on it were a conduit running sweet wine, divers instruments, and goodly singing, and two children pronounced speeches to the king, with a song which con tains expressions very like some in the present song of God save the King. 2 . On the pageant at the great conduit in Cheap, were persons resembling Valentine and Orson, one clothed with moss and ivy leaves, holding a great club of yew tree, the other as a knight, and they pronounced speeches. The conduit ran wine, and was richly garnished ; near it stood four children, as Grace* Nature, Fortune, and Charity, who, one after the other, made speeches. * Leland. Collect, vcl. iv. p 290. f Ms. in Bibl. C.C.C. Cantab. N, vii. 10. '% Glory of Regality, 239 At a distance round the conduit, stood eight ladies richly appa- relled, representing ‘ Sapience,* and the seven Liberal Sciences At the end of the conduit, towards Cheap, was a double scaffold, one above the other, hung with cloth and silk, besides rich arras. The upper contained a heaven , with the sun and stars, f and clouds, that spread abroad, letting down a lesser cloud of white sarcenet fringed with silk, powdered with stars and beams of gold, from whence a phoenix descended down to a mount of sweet shrubs on the lower scaffold, and there setting, a lion of gold crowned made amity to the phoenix by motions of the head 5 between which familiarity, as it seemed, there came forth a young lion, on whose head, two angels from the heaven, placed an imperial crown, and the old lion and the phoenix vanished, leaving the young lion crowned alone, and then the aforesaid ladies delivered speeches. On the nether scaffold, a child royally arrayed, representing thi king, was seated on a throne, supported by four other children, representing Royalty with a sceptre. Justice with a sword. Truth with a book, and Mercy with a cur tana ; these four made speeches. Also, beside the throne was the golden fleece, kept by two bulls and a serpent, their mouths flaming out fire, and six children who played upon the 4 regalles,’ and sang goodly songs. 3. The little conduit in Cheap being richly hung and ornamented, at the top was a tower, with the waits playing in it, an old man sitting in a chair, crowned, sceptred, and arrayed, represented king Edward the Confessor, with a lion of gold lying before him which moved its head. On a stage, at the foot of the conduit, St. George stood in complete harness, with a page also harnessed, holding his spear and shield, and a fair maiden holding a lamb in sily found in the historical works of the times thgy relate to. 244 high collars mounting up about their necks like a pasty crust. Fifth Pageant. Here are mounted two bishops, a sort of dis- ciples of Christ that pretend to take place of ordinary dukes and princes 5 behind are two archbishops in pontijicalibus ; they differ in their crosiers. Sixth Pageant. Two patriarchs, with two forked crosiers, in bishop-like vestments ; and two cardinals riding in pure scarlet vestments, being next cousins to the scarlet whore of Babylon. Next his Holiness’s master of the ceremonies carrying the Pope’s triple cross, distributing bulls, pardons, and indulgences, and crying aloud, * Here you may have heaven for money/ Seventh Pageant . Here comes Anti-Christ him- self arrayed in scarlet robes, furred with ermine, and covered with gold and silver lace, with a triple crown, inscribed in front ‘ Mystery ' holding two keys in his hands, pretended to be of a place he is never likely to get into ; two swords standing at his right hand, one typifying excommunication, the other civil do- minion over kings and princes ; sprawling under his feet, the Emperor Frederick, on whose neck he insolently trod at Venice ; many other crowns and sceptres that he arrogates the disposal of, also at his feet. A Page in white at one corner of the throne, brandishing a banner inscribed, ' This is the king of kings/ another page at the other corner, holding a streamer inscribed, ‘ Thou art our God the Pope/ Eighth Pageant. The Empress Donna Olympia, the Pope’s mistress, surrounded by four nuns; on the pageant a streamer inscribed, * Courtezans in ordinary/ Ninth P ageant. They usher in their religion with fineries, but the sting of the Inquisition is in the serpent’s tail ; here is the main scene of Anti-Christ’s cruelties , in this pageant you see a seat of judi- cature whereon sits a bishop as inquisitor-general, surrounded by monks as inquisitor’s assistants ; a poor martyr condemned before them, dragged to a stake environed with fagots to burn him, having a sanbenite cap on his head all painted with devils ; the space round about strewed and hemmed with racks and instru- ments of torture. — * In this fatal pomp the procession sets out from Whitechapel-bars, and on through Bishopsgate, through Cornhill. Cheapside, and Ludgate, till it crmes to Temple-bar, 245 where the Pape and bis ministers being brought before the figure of Queen Elizabeth, receives his first sentence, and afterwards being led before the statue or tribunal of King Charles II., on the other side, he receives his final doom and downfal, namely, to be burnt with all his fry before Queen Besses throne, the ashes to be scattered about, that thence 'might never spring hereafter in Engtend one popish phenix ; * and, in remembrance of her happy days, and for the victories that God gives us in our days against the Pope and his emissaries, the solemnity is closed with fuzees and artificial fires.’* In the Solemn Mock Procession of the year before, 1679, the Devil attended the Pope as his * right-trusty and well beloved cousin and counsellor;’ caressed, hugged, whispered, and often instructed him aloud. The procession arriving at the eastern side of Temple-bar, where, the statue of Queen Elizabeth having been conspicuously ornamented, a song alluding to the protection of the protestants by that queen was sung, and his Holiness, after some compliments and reluctances, was decently toppled from all his grandeur into a vast bonfire over against the Inner Temple gate ; * the crafty Devil leaving his Infallibility in the lurch, and laughing as heartily at his deserved ignominious end, as subtle Jesuits do at the ruin of bigotted lay catholics whom themselves have drawn in.’f In Queen Anne’s time the figure of the Pretender was added to that of the Pope and the Devil. A vain attempt to revive obsolete prejudices in England by dressing a statue, was made on the anniversary of King William, in 1821, when a clandestine decoration of his effigy in St. James’s Square was effected during the night. The last Solemn Mock Procession round the bedizened statue of King William, in College- green, Dublin, took place the same year. This annual insult to three fourths of the people of Ireland, was finally suppressed by Marquess Wellesley, the Lord Lieutenant. * This procession is engraved on a copper-plate, ‘ sold by Jonathan Wilkins at the Star in Cheapside next to Mercer’s chapel.’ \ Brand, vol. ii. p. 519. Gent. Mag. vol. xxx. p. 515, from Lord Somers’s Tracts- 346 X. LORD MAYOR’S SHOW. —Behold How London did pour out her citizens ! The Mayor, and all his brethren in best sort ! Shakspeare. An historical description of the annual procession and ceremonial on the entrance of the Lord Mayor of London into office, might be a work of some interest to those citizens who unite anti- quarian with civic feeling. But as an undertaking requiring so much labour in the execution is scarcely to be expected, and the Lord Mayor’s show is the only stated exhibition in the metropolis that remains as a memorial of the great doings in the time of the pageants, I purpose some account of its ancient appearance, com- mencing with a description, on the authority of a MS. quoted by Dr. Nathan Drake.* It is 'A breffe description of the Roy all Citie of London, capital citie of this realme of England, (city arms). Wrytten by me, William Smythe, citezen and haberdasher of London, 1575.’ With a slight alteration of the orthography, the account is as follows : ‘The day of St. Simon and St. Jude, the mayor enters into his state and office, The next day he goes by water to West- minster in most triumphlike manner, his barge being garnished with the arms of the city ; and near it a ship-boat of the Queen’s Majesty being trimmed up and rigged like a ship of war, with divers pieces of ordnance, standards, pennons, and targets of the proper arms of the said mayor, of his company and of the mer- * Shakspeare and his Times, vol. ii. p. 164. chants adventurers/ or of the staple, or of the company 01 tne new trades ; next before him goeth the barge of the livery of his own company, decked with their own proper arms , then the bachelors barge ; and so all the companies in London, in order, every one having their own proper barge, with the arms of their company. And so passing along the Thames, he landeth at Westminster, where he taketh his oath in the Exchequer before the judge there; ■which done, he returneth by water as aforesaid, and landeth at Panl’s wharf, where he, and the rest of the aldermen take their horses, and in great pomp pass through Cheapside. And first of all cometh two great standards, one having the arms of the city, and the other the arms of the mayor’s company ; next them two drums and a flute, then an ensign of the city, and then about lxx or lxxx poore men marching two and two, in blue gowns, with red sleeves and caps, every one bearing a pike and a target whereon is painted the arms of all them that have been mayors of the same company that this new mayor is of. Then two banners, one of the king’s arms, the other of the mayor’s own proper arms. Then a set of hautboys playing, and after them certain wyfflers* in velvet coats and chains of gold, with white staves in * Whiffler , Mr. Deuce says, ( Illustrations of Shakspeare , vol. i. p. 507.) is a term undoubtedly borrowed from whiffle, another name for a fife or small flute ; for whifflers were originally those who preceded armies or processions, as fifers or pipers : in process of time the term whiffler, which had always been used in the sense of a fifer, came to signify any person who went before in a procession. He observes, that Minshew defines him to be a club or staff-bearer, and that it appears, whifflers carried white staves, as in the annual feast of the printers, founders, and Ink-makers, described by Randle Holme. Mr. Archdeacon Nores, in his Glossary , cites Grose’s mention of the whifflers at Norwich, who make way for the corporation by flourishing their swords. A friend informs me that the dexterity of the Norwich whifflers in turning their swords to every possible direction is amazing. Mr. Archdeacon Nares remarks, that in the city of London, young freemen, who march at the head of their proper companies on the Lord Mayor’s day, sometimes with flags, were called whifflers , or bachelor whifflers , not because they cleared the way, but because they went first as whifflers did ; and he quotes a character in the old Play of the City Match, saying, ‘ I look’d the next lord mayor’s day to see you o* the livery, or one of the bachef r whifflers * 248 their hands ; then the Pageant of Triumph richly decked, where- upon by certain figures and writings, some matter touching Justice and the office of a magistrate is represented. Then sixteen trum- peters, eight and eight, having banners of the mayor’s company. Then certain whifflers in velvet coats and chains, with white staves as before. Then the bachelors, two and two, in long gowns, with crimson hoods on their shoulders of satin; which bachelors are chosen every year of the same company, that the mayor is of, (but not of the living) and serve as gentlemen on that and other festival days, to wait on the mayor, being in number according to the quantity of the company, sometimes sixty, or one hundred. After them twelve trumpeters more, with banners of the mayor’s company ; then the drum and flute of the city, and an ensign of the mayor’s company; and after, the waits of the city in blue gowns, red sleeves and caps, every one having a silver collar about his neck. Then they of the livery in their long gowns, every one hav- ing his hood on his left shoulder, half-black and half-red, the number of them according to the greatness of the company whereof they are. And then follow the sheriff’s* officers, and then the mayor’s officers, with other officers of the city, as the Com- mon Serjeant, and the Chamberlain; next before the mayor goeth the sword-bearer, having on his head the cap of honour, and the sword of the city in his right hand, in a rich scabbard, set with pearl, and on his left hand goeth the common crier of the city, with his great mace on his shoulder all gilt. The mayor hath on a long gown of scarlet, and on his left shoulder a hood of black velvet, and a rich collar of gold SS. about his neck, and with him rideth the old mayor also, in his scarlet gown, hood of velvet, and a chain of gold about his neck. Then all the aldermen, two and two, (among whom is the Recorder) all in scarlet gowns ; those that have been mayors have chains of gold, the others have black velvet tippits. The two sheriffs come last of all, in their black scarlet gowns and chains of gold. In this order they pass along through the city to the Guildhall, where they dine that day, to the number of 1000 persons, all at the charge of the mayor and ^ the two sheriffs. This feast costeth 400/., whereof the mayor 24y payeth 200/. and each of the snnlffs, 100/. Immediately after dinner, they to St. Paul's church, every one of the aforesaid poor men bearing staff, torches, and targets, which torches are lighted when it is late, before they come from evening prayer.* To this account from the MS. may be added that, in still more ancient times, the procession to and from Westminster was by land; until in 1453, Sir John Norman built a sumptuous barge at his own expense, for the purpose of going by water, when the watermen made a song in his praise, beginning, 1 Row ihr boat , Norman and the twelve companies, emulating their chief, have, from that period, graced the Thames on Lord Mayor’s day. Mr. Stephen Jones, in his edition of the Biographia Drama- tica, has drawn up a list of printed descriptions of the London Triumphs , or Lord Mayors’ Shows, from whence it seems that the firs account of this annual exhibition known to have been published was written by George Peele, for the inauguration of Sir Wolston, Dixie, knight, on the 29th of October, 1585, when children per- sonified the City, Magnanimity, Loyalty, Science, the Country, and the river Thames. They also represented a soldier, a sailor, and nymphs, with appropriate speeches. The show opened with a moor on the back of a lynx On Sir Thomas Middleton’s may- oralty, in 1613, the solemnity is described as unparallelled for the cost, art, and magnificence of the shows, pageants, chariots, morning, noon, and night triumphs. In 1655, the city pageants, after a discontinuance of about fourteen years, were revived. Ed- mund Gayton, the author of the description for that year, says, that f our metropolis for these planetary pageants, was as famous and renowned in foreign nations, as for their faith, wealth, and valour.’ In the show of 1659, an European, an Egyptian, and a Persian, were personated. On Lord Mayor’s day, 1071, the king, queen, and duke of York, and most of the nobility being present, there were * sundry shows, shapes, scenes, speeches and songs, in parts;’ and the like, in 1672, and 1673, when the king again ‘ graced the triumphs.* The king, queen, duke and duchess of York, Prince Rupert, the duke of Monmouth, foreign ambassa dors, the chief nobility, and Secretary of State, were at the 33 250 celebration of Lord Mayor’s day in 1674, when there were * em- blematical figures, artful pieces of architecture, and rural dancing* with pieces spoken on each pageant/ The design of this notice being ipierely to acquaint the reader with the ancient character 01 this solemnity, it is unnecessary to do more than select such par- ticulars as may satisfy common curiosity, and be useful to those who are interested in searching for precedents regarding the pro- cession. The printed accounts of the London Pageants are scarce, and some of such extreme rarity, as to bear a price at the rate of two and three guineas a leaf. The description of Sir Patience Ward’s show on the 29th of October 1680, com- posed by Thomas Jordan, is an interesting specimen of the setting out and pageantry of this procession.* The Lord Mayor being of the livery of the merchant-tailors’ company, at seven o’clock in the morning, liverymen of the first rank, appoint- ed to conduct the business of the day, assembled at merchant- tailors’ hall, to meet the masters, wardens, and assistants, in their gowns, faced with foyns.\ In the second rank, others in gowns faced with budge,\ and livery-hoods. In the third rank, a num- ber of foyns-bachelors, and forty budge-bachelors, both attired in scarlet hoods and gowns. Sixty gentlemen-ushers, in velvet coats and chains of gold, bearing white staves. Thirty more in plush and buff, bearing colours and banners. Thirty-six of the king’s trumpeters, with silver trumpets, headed by the serjeant-trumpeter, he wearing two scarfs, one the Lord Mayor’s, and the other the company’s colours. The king’s drum-major, followed by four of the king’s drums and fifes. Seven other drums and two fifes, wearing vests of buff, with black breeches and waste scarfs. Two city marshals on horseback, with at- tendants. The foot- marshal, with a rich broad shoulder-scarf, to put them in rank and file, attended by six others. The * C i 0 printed descriptions are mostly in the present or future tense, t Foyns, the skin of the martin. J Budge , lambs’- skin, with the wool dressed outwards. 251 fence-master, with attendants, bearing bright broadswords drawn* Poor pensioners, with gowns and caps, bearing standards and banners. A troop of poor persons, in azure gowns and caps. One hundred more with javelins and targets, bearing the arms of their benefactors. Being all assembled, they are by the foot-mar- shal’s judgment, arranged into six divisions, ranked out by two and two. The First Division contains the ensigns of the com- pany followed by the poor company of pensioners. Four drums and one fife. Pensioners in coats as before described. Per- sons of worth, each bearing a standard or banner. Four trum- pets. Two merchant- tailors’ ensigns, bearing their supporters and crest. Six gentlemen-ushers. The budge-bachelors, marching in measured order. Second Division . Six trumpets. Two gentlemen, bearing the coats of arms of the city, and the mer- chant-tailors’ company. Eight gentlemen, wearing gold chains. The foyns-bachelors. Third Division . Two gentlemen in velvet coats with banners. Ten gentlemen-ushers in coats and chains of gold, as before described. A large body of the livery in their gowns and livery-hoods, followed by * all Lord Mayors in the po- tential mood In their rear divers of the city trumpets. Two gentlemen bearing the arms of the ci‘y and the Lord Mayor. Gen- tlemen-ushers. The court of assistants. Four drums. Six trum- pets. Three gallants, bearing the banners of the diadem. The king’s queen’s, and city’s ensigns, attended by six gentlemen as pages. The masters and wardens of the merchant-tailors’ com- pany. Thus formed, they march from merchant- tailors’ hall to the Lord Mayor’s house, where his lordship and the aldermen take horse, according to their degree, and the whole body proceed in state to Guildhall. Being met at the gate by the old Lord Mayor, and there attired with the gown, fur hood, and scarf, and guarded by knights, esquires, and gentlemen, they all march through King Street down to Three-crane wharf, where the Lord Mayor and aldermen, discharging some of the attendants, take barge at the west end of the wharf ; the court of assistants’ livery, and the best of the gentlemen-ushers taking barge at the east-end. The rest of the ushers, with the foyns and the budge-bachelors, 252 remain ashore, with others, to await the return of his lordship, who proceeds witli several city companies by water, and is rowed ail along by the Strand to Westmi ster; a pi -asure-boat with great guns aboard saluting him on the way. At New Palace Stairs they disembark, and making a lane to the hall, the Lord Mayor passes along to take the oath and go through the usual ceremonies. These being completed, he makes a liberal dona- tion to the pov" of Westminster, reimbarks with all his retinue, and being rowed back to Blackfriars Stairs, he lands there under beat of drum and a salute of three volleys from the Artillery Com- pany in their martial ornaments, some in buff, with head-pieces many being of massive silver. From Blackfriars they march before the Lord Mayor and aldermen through Cheapside to Guild- hall. The pensioners and banners who went not to Westminster, being set in order to march, the foot-marshal in the rear of the Artillery Company, leads the way along by the channel up Lud- gate Hill, through Lud-gate, into St. Paul’s church-yard, and so into Cheapside, where his lordship is entertained by the first pageant , consisting of a large stage, with the coat armour of the merchant-tailors 1 company, eminently erected, consisting of a large tent royal, gules , fringed and richly garnished, or, lined, faced a»d doubled ermine. This stage is winged or flanked by two other stages, bearing two excellent figures of lively carved camels, the supporters to the company’s coat. On the back of one camel, a black native Indian, in a golden robe, a purple mantle fringed with gold, pearl pendants in his ears, coronet of gold with fea- thers, and golden buskins laced with scarlet ribbon, holds a golden bridle in his left, and a banner of the company, representing Treasure in his right hand. On the other camel, a West Indian in. a robe of silver, scarlet mantle, diamonds pendant from his ears, buskins of silver laced with purple ribbon, a golden crown fea- thered, holds a silver bridle in his left, and a banner of the Lord Mayors, representing Traffic , in his right hand. On one of the camel-stages four figures sit on pedestals, one at each corner, representing Diligence , Industry, Ingenuity, and Success; on th° other camel-stage, in like manner. Mediocrity , Amity , Verity , 2,53 Variety , all richly habited in silk or sarcenet, bear splendid em- blems and banners. The royal tent or imperial pavilion, be- tween these two stages, is supported on one side by a minister of state representing Royalty , and on the other side by another re- presenting Loyalty ; each in rich robes of honor gules , wearing on their left arms shields azure , with this motto in gold, For the king and kingdom , one bearing a banner of the king’s, and the other, one of the city’s banners. On a high and eminent seat of throne-like ascension, is seated Sovereignty in royal posture and alone, with black curled hair, wearing an imperial crown, a robe of purple velvet, lined, faced, and caped with ermine, a collar o» SS with a George pendant ; bearing in one hand a golden globe, in the other a royal sceptre. On a seat beneath, are Principa- lity , Nobility, and Honour, all richly habited. On the next seat, gradually descending beneath, are, 1. Gentility , shaped like a scholar and soldier, holding in one hand, clad with a golden gaunt- let, a silver spear, in the other a book ; 2. Integrity , wearing an earl’s coronet for the court, a loose robe of scarlet-coloured silk for the city, underneath a close coat of grass green plush for the country ; 3. Commonalty , as a knight of the shire in parliamen- tary robes. On the lowest seat, an ancient English Hero , with brown curling hair, in ancient armour, as worn by chief com- manders, the coat of mail richly gilt, crimson and velvet scan fringed with gold, a quiver of arrows in a gold belt on one side, a sword at the other, buskins laced with silver and gold, a silver helmet with red and white plume ; in one hand a large long bow, and a spear in the other. This personage, representing Sir John Harvkrvood , a merchant-tailor of martial renown, under Ed war - III., when he conquered France, as soon as he perceives the lord mayor prepared, with attention riseth up, and with a martial bow exhibiteth a speech in verse ot thirty-seven lines, in compliment to the merchant-tailors and the lord mayor. His lordship testify* ing his approbation, rideth with his brethren through the throng of spectators, till at Milk Street end, he is intercepted by The second Pageant, which is a chariot of ovation, or peaceful triumph, adorned with delightful pieces of o^mis uain ting, and drawn by 254 a golden lion and a lauio. On the lion i» mounted a >oung negro prince, richly habited, according to the royal mode in India, hold- ing a golden bridle, and in the other hand St. George’s banner, representing Power. On the lamb is mounted a white beautiful seraphim-like creature, with long bright flaxen curled hair, and on it a golden coronet of cherubim’s heads and wings, a carnation sarce- net robe, with a silver mantle and wings of gold, silver, purple, and scarlet, reining the lamb by a silver bridle in his left hand, and with his right bearing an angelical staff, charged with a red cross, representing Clemency. In the chariot sitteth seven per- sons, 1. Concordia , 2. Unanimia, 3. Pacifica , 4. Consent ania, 5. Melodea , 6. Benevolentia , (whose habits, and those of other characters already and hereafter mentioned, are not described here for want of room) and 7 . ‘ Harmonia , a lady of great gravity, with masculine aspect, wearing a lovely dark brown peruke, curiously curled, on which is planted a crown imperial ; she wears a robe of French green velvet, pleasantly embroidered with gold, a crimson coloured silk and silver mantle, and sitting majestically alone in front, upon the approach and fixation of my lord mayor, improves the opportunity, riseth up, and delivereth an oration,’ of forty-four lines in verse, wherein she acquaints his lordship that the other characters are her attributes, recommends unity, because division is the policy of the Pope and the Jesuits, expresses her belief that if the lion and the lamb fall out, she should run to ruin, des- cants upon magistrate-like virtues, and in the end tells his lord- ship, You have done all things fair, no actions foul, Your sherevalry gave relish of good rule, Nor need they doubt your mayoralty, therefore, Begging your pardon, I shall say no more. This speech being concluded, his lordship exhibiting a gracious aspect of favourable acceptation, advanceth further towards Guild- hail, but is civilly obstructed by another scene, and in regard, his lordship is a merchant, and his company merchant-tailors, the Third Triumphal Scene, or Pageant, is a ship called the 20o Patience , with masts, and sails, fully rigged, and manned, the cap tain whereof addresseth to my lord a speech beginning. What cheer, my lord ? I am return’d from sea. To amplifie your day of Jubilee, In this tiled vessel, &c. ilis lordship having surveyed the ship, and the trumpets sounding, he continueth his determined course towards Guildhall, but by the way is once more obstructed by another scene, called the Palace of Pleasure, which is a t iumphal Ionic arch of excellent struc- ture, where, in distinct and perspicuous situations, sitteth nine beautiful and pleasant ladies, whose names, natures, and orna- ments are consentaneous, 1. Jollity , 2. Delight, 3. Fancy, 4. Felicity, 6. Wit, 6. Invention, 7. Tumult, 8. Slaughter, 9. Gladness ; all of them properly enrobed and adorned ; and to augment their delight, there are several persons properly habited^ playing on sundry loud instruments of music, one of which, with a voice as loud and as tunable.as a treble hautboy, chanteth out a Ditty in commendation of the Merchant- tailors* Trade, commenc- ing thus. Of all the Professions that ever were nam’d The Taylor’s though slighted, is much to be fam’d; For various Inventions and Antiquity, No Trade with the Taylers compared may be For warmth and distinction and Fashion he doth Provide for both Sexes with Silk, Stuff and Cloth ; Then do not disdain him or slight him, or flout him Since (if well consider’d) you can’t live without him. But let all due praises (that can be,) be made To honour and diguifie the Taylers trade. When Adam and Eve out of Eden were hurl’d, They were at that time king and queen of the world Yet this royal Couple were forced to play The Taylers , and put themselves in green Array; For Modesty and for Necessity’s sake They had Figs for the Belly, and Leaves for the Back ; And afterward Clothing of Sheep-skins they made Then judge if a Tayler was not the first Trade, The oldest Profession; and they are but Raylers, Who scoff and deride men that be Merchant • Taylers . 256 This song, containing five more verses, being ended, the foot- marshal places the assistants, livery, and the companies on both sides of King’s-street, and the pensioners with their targets hung on the tops of the javelins ; in the rear of them the ensign-bearers ; drums and fifes in front ; he then hastens the foins and budge- batchelors, together with the gentlemen ushers, to Guildhall, where his Lordship is again saluted by the artillerymen with three volleys more, which concludes their duty. His laiid attendants pass through the gallery or lane so made, into Guildhall ; after which the company repairs to dinner in the hall, and the several silk-works and triumphs are likewise conveyed into Blackwell- hall ; and the officers aforesaid, and the children that sit in the pageants, there refresh themselves until his Lordship hath dined. At the dinner in Guildhall, his Lordship and the guests being all seated, the city music begin to touch their instruments with very artful fingers. Their ears being as well feasted as their palates, and a concert lesson or two succeeding, * a sober person with a good voice, grave humour, and audible utterance, proper to the condition of the times/ sings a song called The Protestants' Exhortation , the burden whereof is, Love one another , and the subject against the catholics. The song being ended, the musicians play divers new airs, which having done, three or four ‘ habit themselves according to the humour of the song/ and one of them chanteth forth The Plotting Papist's Litany , in ten stanzas, the first of which ends with Joyntly then wee '1 agree, To sing a Litany, And let the burden be, Ora pro nobis< The Litany* concluded, and night approacmng, the festival * Nearly a century and a half after the above-mentioned Litany , com- posed by the City Laureate, was sung in character for the entertain- ment of the corporation of London, I was necessarily present for three successive days during certain trials in Guildhall, when the celebration of Lord Mayor’s day by a Mock Litany on the same spot, might have oeen among the serviceable precedents cited to the juries. 257 terminates. Whereupon his Lordship, attended by a retinue of his own company, takes coach and is conducted to Skinner’s-hall, and being housed, those attendant on him then depart, and the triumpns and silk-works by the care of the master artificers being lodged for that night in Black well-hall, are on the next day con- veyed to Merchant-TaylorsMiall. In 1687 the pageants were very costly, and prepared at the ex- pense of the company of Goldsmiths, to which Sir John Shorter, Kilt, the Lord Mayor for that year belonged. Matthew Taub- man describes the festival as ‘ a liberal and unanimous assembly of all the chiefs of the imperial city ot tbe most nourishing king- dom in the universe : *nis year, adorned with the presence of their most sacred majesties, the king, (James II.) Queen, Queen- dowager, Prince and Princess of Denmark, with all the chief nobility and principal officers of the court; the archbishop of Canterbury, and chief prelates of the church ; the Lord Chan- cellor, Lord Chief Justice, and all the learned judges of the laws; with all foreign ministers, ambassadors, envoys, residents, who having observed the tables of the most puissant princes, and seen the most hospitable preparations of foreign nations, rest here amazed, at the ne plus ultra of all entertainments !* It should be mentioned that Taubman was the city Poet ; and that since the visit of Charles II. in 1674, the Lord Mayor on the day of his mayoralty had not entertained the king. He says, 1 we must not omit the stateliness of the morning procession and progress bv water to Westminster, where his Lordship once a year, (as the Duke of Venice to the sea) weds himself to the Thames with a ring of surrounding barges, that being also a part of his dominion.’ The pageants were four in number and exceedingly splendid, and the principal character in each delivered a versified address to the Lord Mayor. One of the pageants, a ship, the Unity of London, a merchant adventurer to Norway and Denmark, was an honour paid to the Lord Mayor by his company on account of his lord- ship’s mercantile occupation. This ship, laden with all sorts of timber lor ship and house building, and architecture, represented bis lordship's way of traffic. It measured in length from the 258 poop to the stern an hundred, and forty-jive feet, and in height forty-jive feet from the water to the stern, a he carried twenty two guns, with ancients, pendents, streamers, flags, tackling, an- chors, and all sorts of rigging, appertaining to a merchantman of that burden. On board were a captain and his mate, a gunner and his mate, a boatswain and a full complement of men, care being taken to assign to each man his proper station ; some at the main tack, others the braces, others the bowlines ; some climbing up the ladders to the main- top, and others sitting across the yard- arm. The mariners were dressed in Indian stripes, and rugged yarn caps, blue, white, and red. The captain, dressed in Indian silk with a rich fur cap, being placed in the stern with several trumpets, on the boatswain giving a signal by his whistle, accosted his lordship with a speech. A pageant of such a description, and of such enormous bulk, it is almost difficult in our times to conceive as having been erected at so late a period ; yet structures of corresponding magnitude are described on other occasions, and the fact is beyond all doubt. The Goldsmiths* pageant in this show was equally imposing, and must have been of amazing size. It was a * Hieroglyphic of the Company, consisting of a spacious laboratory or work- house, containing several conveniences and distinct apartments for the different operators and artificers, with forges, anvils, ham- mers, and all instruments proper for the mystery of the Gold- smiths. In the middle of the frontispiece, on a rich golden chair of state, sat St. Dunstan, the ancknt patron and tutelar guar- dian of the company. He was attired, to express his prelaticaJ dignity and canonization, in a robe of fine lawn, w r ith a cope over t of shining cloth of gold reaching to the ground. He wore a golden mitre beset with precious stones, and bore in his left hand a golden crosier, and in his right a pair of Goldsmith’s tongs. Be- hind him were Orpheus and Amphion playing on melodious in- struments 5 standing more forward were the Cham of Tartary, and the grand Sultan, who being ‘ conquered by the Christian harmott seemed to sue for reconcilement.’ At the steps of the prelatici t£o-one was a goldsmith’s forge and furnace, with fire, crucible 259 ard gel and a workmaa blowing the belows. On each siw was a large press of gold and siher plate. Towards the fron L were shops of artificers and jewellers all at work with anvils, ham mers, and instruments for enamelling, beating out gold and silver plate; on a step below St. Dunstan, sat an assay* master, wfith his trial-balance and implements. There were two apartments for the processes of disgrassing, flatting, and drawing gold and silver w ire, and the fining, melting, smelting, refining, and separating o. gold and silver, both by fire and water. Another apartment con- tained a forge with miners in canvas breeches, red waistcoats and red caps, bearing spades, pickaxes, twibbles, and crows for sink- ing shafts and making adits. The Lord Mayor having approached and viewed the curiosity of the pageant was addressed in A Speech by St. Dunstan Waked with this music from my silent urn. Your patron Dunstan comes V attend your turn. t\MPHiAN and old Obpheus playing by, lo keep our J org e in tuneful harmony, j'hese poutifi c al ornaments I wear, Are types of r ule and order all the year : In these whit e robes none can a fault descry Since all have liberty as well as I : Nor need you fear the shipwreck of your cause, Your loss of c barter or the penal laws. Indulgence granted by your bovnteous prince, Makes for that loss too great a recompence. This charm the Lerneean Hydra will reclaim ; Your patron shall the tameless rabble tame. Of the proud Cham I scorn to be afear’d ; I’ll take the angry S cltan by the beard. Nay, should the De vil intrude amongst your foes. [Lwer a. Devil. What then ? St. Dunstan . Snap, thus, I have him by the nose 1 The most prominent feature in the Devil’s face being held by St. Dunstan’s tongs, after the prelate had duly spurned the sub- mission of the Cham of Tartary and the Grand Sultan, a silver* smith with three other workmen proceeding to the great anvil, commenced working a plate of massy metal, singing and keeping 260 time upon the anvil. Upon this, Taubman says, 1 the speech being ended, the pageant moves easily, being led by a guard o twenty-four in the front, twelve of which are lictors in Roman habits, bearing axes in their hands, with head-pieces, and leopards* heads on each shoulder, as also on their buskins ; and twelve yeo- men bearing blunderbusses, apparelled after the same manner with head -pieces and buskins; besides green men, swabs, satyrs, and attendants innumerable/ Before the arrival of the Lord Mayor and his train at Guildhall, his majesty passed on horseback through the city with a large guard to attend him, led up by the Duke of Northumberland, and the foot guard by the Lord Craven. The royal visitants dined at a table raised upon the hustings at the east end of the hall ; the foreign ambassadors, the lords of the council, and others of the peerage and nobility, at the two next tables raised on each side of the hall ; the Lord Mayor, the citizens of the different liveries at several tables which filled the whole body of the hall, and the Aldermen dined at a table raised at the west end. His Lordship beginning their Majes- ties’ healths, the hall was filled with huzzas and acclamations. At dinner, before the banquet, a loyal song was provided for the en- tertainment of his majesty. The printed account of Lord Mayor’s Show next year, the year f that king’s abdication, is entitled, ' London’s Anniversary Fes- ival, performed on Monday, October 29, 1688, for the entertain- ment of the Right Hon. Sir John Chapman, Knt. Lord Mayor of the City of London ; being their great year of Jubilee : with a panegyric upon the restoring of the charter; and a sonnet pro- vided for the entertainment of the king also by Taubman, the City Laureate. On the following Lord Mayor’s day, Octo- ber 29, 1689, the Prince of Orange being seated in the vacant throne as King William III., he dined at Guildhall with Queen Mary, the Prince and Princess of Denmans, the whole court, and both houses of Parliament, when there were * several pa- geants and speeches, together with a song for] the entertainment of their Majesties.’ Taubman also prepared this pageant, and provided the same loyal song to entertain William III that h* 261 had cauged to oe sung ror the entertainment of James II. This was the second mayorality of Sir Thomas Pilkington; who being o. the Skinner’s company, a pageant in honour of their occupation, r . . consisted of ‘ a spacious wilderness, haunted and inhabited* with al manner of wild beasts and birds of various shapes and colours, even to beasts of prey, as wolves, bears, panthers, leopard* , sables and beavers ; likewise dogs, cats, foxes^and rabbits, which tost up now and then into a balcony fell oft upon the company's heads, and by them tost again into the crowd, afforded great diversion ; melodious harmony likewise allayed the fury of the wild beasts, who were con« tinually moving, dancing, curvetting, and tumbling to the music/ At the alteration of the style, the Lord Mayor’s show, which ha been on the 29th of October, was changed to the 9th of November. The speeches in the pageants were usually composed by the city Poet, an officer of the corporation, with an annual salary, who provided printed description for the members of the corporation before the day Settle, the last city Poet, wrote the last pamphlet intended to describe a Lord Mayor’s Show; it was for Sir Charles Duncombe’s, 1708, but the Prince of Denmark’s death the day before, prevented the exhi- bition. The last lord mayor who rode on horseback at his mayoralty was Sir Gilbert Heathcote in the reign of queen Anne. The modern exhibitions, bettered as they are by the men in armour under Mr. Marriott’s judicious management, have no pretension to vie w tk the grandeur of the * London Triumphs.* In 1760, the Court of Common Council recommended pageants to be exhibited for the entertainment of their majesties on Lord Mayor’s day. Although such revivals are inexpedient, yet, surely, means may be devised for improving the appearance of the present procession, without further expenditure from the city funds, or interfering with the public appro* udtion of the allowance for the the supper of the civic dignity. m XI. THE GIANTS IN GUILDHALL ‘ . arch’d so high that giants may get through. Shanspeare. that remains of the Lord Mayor’s Show, to remind the curiously informed of its ancient character, is in the first part of the procession. These are the poor men of the company to which the Lord Mayor belongs, habited in long 1 gowns and close caps of the company’s colour, bearing painted shields on their arms, but without javelins. So many of these head the show, as there are years in the Lord Mayor’s age. Their chocolate costume and hobbling walk are sport for the unsedate, who, from imper- fect tradition, year after year, are accustomed to call them old bachelors. The numerous band of gentlemen-ushers in velvet coats, wearing chains of gold and bearing white staves, is reduced to half-a-dozen full-dressed footmen, carrying umbrellas in their hands. The antiquarian reminiscences occasioned by the throw- ing of substances that stone-eaters alone would covet, from the tops of houses, can arise no more.* Even the giants in Guild hall, elevated upon octagon stone columns, to watch and ward the great east window, stand unrecognised, except in their gvgantic capacity. & From the time when I was astonished by the information, that f ‘ every day when the giants hear the clock strike twelve, they * This practice, derived perhaps from the kindly showering of comfits and sweet-cakes peculiar to the pageant, has been abolished by the efforts of suc- cessive Lard Mayors. fciiJii down to dinner,’ I have had something 01 curiosity toward Lem. How came they there, and what are they for? In vain iave been my examinations of Stow, Howell, Strype, Noorthouck, Maitland, Seymour, Pennant, and numberless other authors of Dooks and tracts regarding London. They scarcely deign to men- tion them, and no one relates a syllable from whence we can possibly affirm that the giants of their day were the giants that now exist. To this remark there is a solitary exception. Hat- ton, whose New View of London bears the date of 1708, says ill that work, ‘ This stately hall being much damnify ’d by the unhappy conflagration of the city in 1666, was rebuilt Anno 1669, and extremely well beautified and repaired both in and outside, which cost about 2,500/., and 2 new Figures of Gigantick Magnitude will be as before’* Presuming on the ephemeral in- formation of his readers at the time he published, Hatton has obscured his information by a brevity, which leaves us to sup- pose that the giants were destroyed when Guildhall was ‘ much damnify’d’ by the fire of London in 1666 ; and that from that period they had not been replaced. Yet it is certain that giants were there in 1699, when Ned Ward published his London Spy. Describing a visit to Guildhall, he says, 4 We turned down King Street, and came to the place intended, which we entered with as great astonishment to see the giants, as the Morocco am- bassador did London when he saw the snow fall. I asked my tiriend the meaning and design of setting up those two lubberly preposterous figures; for I suppose they had some peculiar end in it. Truly, says my friend, I am wholly ignorant of what they intended by them, unless they were set up to show the city what uuge boobies their forefathers were, or else to fright stubborn apprentices into obedience ; for the dread of appearing before two such monstrous loggerheads, will sooner reform their man- ners, or mould them into a compliance vrith their masters’ will, than carrying them before my Lord Mayor, or the Chamberlain d London ; for some of them are as much frighted at the names * Hatton’s New View of London, 1708, 8vo. p. 607 U of Gog and Magog , as little children are at the terrible sound ot Raw-head and Bloody-bones.’ There is no doubt that at that time the city giants were far more popular than now; for in )he same work, two passengers, who had slyly alighted from a roach without discharging it, at Bartholomew Fair, are addressed by the coachman, with 4 Pay me my fare, or by Gog and Magog you shall taste the smart of my whipcord ;* an oath which in our time is obselete, though in all probability it was common then, or it would not have been used by Ward in preference to his usual indecency. Again : as to giants being in Guildhall be- fore Hatton wrote, and whether they were the present statues. On the 24th of April, 1685. there were 1 wonderful and stupend- ous fire-works in honour of their majesties’ coronation, (James II. and his queen) and for the high entertainment of their ma- jesties, the nobility, and City of London , made on the Thames.’* Among the devices of this exhibition, erected on a raft in the middle of the river, were two pyramids ; between them was a figure of the sun in polished brass, below it a great cross, and be- neath that a crown, all stored with fire-works; and a little before the pyramids * were placed the statues of the two Giants of Guild- hall, in lively colours and proportions facing Whitehall, the backs of which were all filled with fiery materials,’ and * from the first deluge of fire till the end of the sport, which lasted near an nour, the two giants, the cross, and the sun, grew all in a light flame in the figures described, and burned without abatement of mat- ter.* From this mention of ‘ statues of the two giants of Guildhall,’ it is to be inferred, that giants were in Guildhall fourteen years before Ward’s book was published, and that, probably, the fire- work-maker took them for his models, because their forms being familiar to the 4 City of London ,* their appearance would be at attraction as well as a compliment to his civic audience. Whe- ther the giants in the Hall then, were our present giants, will be satisfactorily determined. * See the ‘Narrative,’ by R. Lowman, folio, half sheet, 1685. 265 Until the last reparation in Guildhall, in 1815, the present giants stood with the old clock and a balcony of iron-work be- tween them, over the stairs leading* from the Hall to the Courts of Law and the Council Chamber. When they were taken down, in that year, and placed on the floor of the hall, I thoroughly exa- mined them as they lay in that situation. They are made of wood,* and hollow within, and from the method of joining and gluing the interior, are evidently of late construction, but they are too substantially built for the purpose of being either carried or drawn, or any way exhibited in a pageant. On inspecting them at that period, I made minute inquiry of an old and respectable officer Df Guildhall, with whom they were favourites, as to what particu- lars existed in the city archives concerning them ; he assured me that he had himself anxiously desired information on the same sub- ject, and that after an investigation through the different offices, there was not a trace of the period when they commenced to be, nor the least record concerning them. This was subsequently con- firmed to me by gentlemen belonging to other departments. Just before 1708, the date of Hatton’s book, Guildhall had been repaired ; and Hatton says, ‘ in the middle of this front are depen- siled in gold these words, Reparata et Ornata Thoma Rawlinson , Milit. Majore , An. Dorn, m.dcc.vi.’ From whence, and his observation, in the extract first quoted, that ‘ two new figures of gigantic magnitude will be as before , he intends his reader to understand that, as before that reparation there had been two giants, so, with the new adornment of the hall there would be two new giants. The illustration, or rather proof of Hatton’s meaning, is to be found in ‘ The Gigantic History of the two famous Giants in Guildhall , London? \ This very rare book, and I call it so because * Noorthouck writing in 1779, (Hist, of London, 4to. p. 590,) erroneously affirms that the giants are made of pasteboard. + ‘Third Edition, corrected. London : Printed for Tho. Boreman, Bookseller, near the Giants in Guildhall, and at the Boot and Crown, on Ludgate HiU, 1741.’ — 2 vols, 64mo 266 the copy I consult is the only one I ever saw, it is unnecessary to extract more from than is really essential to the present purpose, tt states, that ‘ Before the present giants inhabited Guildhall, there were two giants made only of wicker-work and pasteboard, put together with great art and ingenuity : and those two terrible ori- ginal giants had the honour yearly to grace my Lord Mayor’s show, being carried in great triumph in the time of the pageants ; and when that eminent annual service was over, remounted their old stations in Guildhall — till by reason of their very great age, old Time, with the help of a number of city rats and mice, had eaten up all their entrails. The dissolution of the two old, weak, and feeble giants, gave birth to the two present substantial, and majestic giants ; who, by order, and at the city charge, were formed and fashioned. Captain Richard Saunders,* an eminent carver in King Street, Cheapside, was their father ; who, after he had completely finished, clothed, and armed these his two sons, they were imme- diately advanced to those lofty stations in Guildhall, which they have peaceably enjoyed ever since the year 1708.’ From the title of the ‘ Gigantic History’ it appears to have been published within Guildhall itself, when shops were permitted there ;f so that Bore- man, the publisher, had the best means that time and place could afford of obtaining true information, and for obvious reasons he war * ‘ a citizen Of credit and renown, A trainband captain Cow per. + There were also shops formerly within Westminster-hall, on each side, along the whole length of the hall. I have a print of its interior in that state, about the year 1720, with books, prints, gloves, and other articles displayed for sale in cases against the walls, and on the counters, at which people are being served ; lawyers and their clients walk and converse in the middle of the hall ; the judges are sitting in ‘ open court,’ the courts being merely partitioned off from the body of the hall to the height of eight or nine feet, with the side bars on the outside, at which the attorneys moved for their rules of course. Exeter Change now, except as to width, is a pretty exact resemblance of Westminster-hall then. Ned Ward relates, that he and his companion visited Westminster-hall and walked down by the sempstresses, who were very nicely digitising and pleat- ing turn-overs and ruffles for the young students, and coaxing them witti tneir amorous looks, obliging cant, and inviting gestures.’ 267 unlikely to state what was noi correct. It is further related in this work, that ‘ the first honour which the two ancient wicker-work giants were promoted to in the city, was at the Restoration of King Charles II., when with great pomp and majesty they graced a triumphal arch which was erected on tLv. happy occasion at the end of King Street, in Cheapside.’ Thi* was before the fire of London, by which the hall was 4 much damrify’d/ but not burned down ; for the conflagration was principally confined to the wooden roof, and, according to this account, the wicker-giants escaped, till their infirmities, and the labors of the ‘ city rats’ rendered it ne- cessary to supersede them. That wicker was used in constructing figures for the London pageants is certain. Haywood, in his description of the page- ants of the Lord Mayor, Raynlon’s Show in 1632, says, that ‘ the moddellor and composer of these several pieces, Maister Gerard Christmas, found these pageants and shows of wicker and paper, and reduc’t them to sollidity and substance/ But, to prove the validity of the statement in the ‘ Gigantic History/ that the present giants were put up upon the reparation of the hall in 1706, an examination of the city archives became neces- sary, and as the History fortunately mentions Captain Richard Saunders as the carver, the name became a clue to successful en- quiry. Accordingly, on examination of the city accounts at the chamberlain’s office, under the head of * Extraordinary Works/ for 1707, I discovered among the sums ‘ Paid for repairing of the Guildhall and Chappell/ an entry in the following words : To Richard Saunders, Carver, Seveanty pounds, by order of the Co’mittee for Repairing Guildhall. dated y e x th of April, 1707, for work by him done, This entry of the payment confirms the relation of the Gi- gantic historian. Saunders’s bill, which doubtless contained the charges for the two giants, and all the vouchers before 1786. 266 belonging to the Chamberlain s office, were destroyed by a fire there in that year. Beyond this single item, corroborating the nar- rative of the * Gigantic History,* there is no information to be obtained at Guildhall, where my researches were obligingly as- sisted by the prompt kindness of Henry Woodthorpe, jnn. Esq. deputy town-clerk, William Montague, Esq. clerk of the works, and B. W. Scott, Esq. of the chamberlain’s office. 'Giants were a part of the pageantry used in different cities of the kingdom. By an ordinance of the Mayor, aldermen, and common council of Chester,* for the setting of the watch on the eve of the festival of St. John the Baptist, in 1564, it wasdirected that there should be annually, according to ancient custom, a pageant, consist- ing of four giants, with animals, hobby-Kbrses, and other figures, therein specified. | In 1599, Henry Hardman, Esq. the Mayor of that year, from religious motives, caused the giants in the Midsummer show *to be broken, and not to goe the Deoil in his feathers ,’ and he provided a man in complete armour to go in their stead ; but in 1601, John Ratclyffe, a beer-brewer, being mayor, set out the giants and the Midsummer show as usual. On the Restoration of Charles II. new ones were ordered to be made, and the estimate for finding materials and workmanship of the four great giants, as they were before, was at five pounds a giant ; and four men to carry them at two shillings and sixpence each. The materials for making these Chester giants were deal-boards, nails, pasteboard, scaleboard, paper of various sorts, buckram, size cloth, and old sheets for their bodies, sleeves and shirts, which were to be coloured ; also tinsel, tinfoil, gold and silver leaf, and colours of different kinds. A pair of old sheets were to cover the father and mother giants, and three yards of buckram were provided for the mother’s and daughter 9 s hoods. There is an entry in the Chester Charges of one shilling and fourpence * for arsenic to put into the paste to save the giants from being eaten by the • Harl. MSS. 1368. f Harl. MSS. 2125. 269 rats;'* a precaution, which, if adopted in the formation of the old wicker-giants of London, was not effectual, though how long they nad ceased to exist before the reparation of the hall, and the carving of their successors, does not appear. One conjecture may perhaps be hazarded, that, as after the Mayor of Chester had ordered the giants there to be destroyed, he provided a man in armour as a substitute; so perhaps the dissolution of the old London Giants, and the incapacity of the new ones for the duty of Lord Mayor’s show, occasioned the appearance of the men in armour in that procession. However stationary the present ponderous figures were destined to remain, there can scarcely be a question as to the frequent use ot their wicker predecessors in the corporation shows. The giants were great favourites in the pageants.f Stow, in describing the ancient setting of the nightly watch in London on St John^s-eve, relates that ‘ the Mayor was surrounded by the footmen and torch- bearers, and followed by two henchmen on large horses : the Mayor had, besides his g\ont, three pageants ; whereas the sheriffs had only two, besides their giants , each with their morris dance and one henchman It is related, that to make the people wonder, these giants were armed, and marched as if they were alive, to the great diversion of the boys, who peering under, found them stuffed with brown paper. § A character in Marston’s ‘ Dutch Courtezan,’ a comedy acted in 1605, says, ‘Yet all will scarce make me so high as one of the Gy ant's stilts that stalks before my Lord Mayor’s Pageants. |J * Strutt’s Sports, Pref. p. xxvi. f Strutt, p. xxiii. Giants were introduced into the May-games. ‘ On the 26th of May, 1555, was a gay May-game at St. Martin’s-in-the-Fields, with giants and hobby-horses, drums and guns, morris-dancers, and other min- strels .’ — ( Strype's Memorials .) Burton (in his Anatomy of Melan- choly) includes giants among the ordinary domestic recreations of winter. J Strutt, p. 319. I Brand, i. p. 257 j] Stilts to encrease the statue of the giants , and the introduction of the morris-dance , are instances of the desire to gratify the fondness of our ancestors for strangs sights and festive amusements. A cock dancing on 36 It has been already mentioned,* that on queen Elizabeth’s progress to her coronation. Gogmagog and Corinaeus, two giants, were sta- tioned at Temple-bar. It is not certain, yet it is probable, that these were the wicker giants brought from Guildhall for the occasion. In the reign before, when queen Mary and Philip II. of Spain made their public entry, there was at London-bridge a grand spec- tacle with two images representing two giants, the one named Cori- nens, and the other Gog-magog, holding between them certain Latin verses.f There is scarcely a likelihood that these were any stilts to the music of a pipe and tabor, is in Strutt’s Sports (plate xxiii. p. 221,) from a book of prayers written towards the close of the thirteenth century, (Harl. MSS. 6563). Strutt says that in the present day this may probably be considered as a mere effort of the illuminator’s fancy : to show, however, that it was probably a real performance, he exem- plifies the teachableness of birds ; to which may be added, that I have seen a hen, one of whose limbs was broken by accident and replaced by a wooden leg, walking among her companions apparently without inconvenience. A few readers, T know will pardon me for introducing an etching, ( see plate) of a Fools' Morris Dance , from a picture painted in a sort of stone colour, shaded with brown. The principal performer is striding on stilts, and with a bauble or whip of Ion g"' bladders in his right hand, flaps one of his companions, lying on the ground, while he bears on high, in his left hand, two common bladders, which another figure endeavours to reach. Two of the dancers seem, by their position, to give full effect to their bells ; and for the same purpose, another puts a barrel in motion, by treading on it. To each leg of these five dancers are thirty-two bells: they wear loose coats, cut in a Vandyke form at the bottom, with tassels on the points: tassels are also attached to their hanging sleeves, and to the tops of their caps, which come over in front like the fool’s cock’s- comb. This exhibition takes place, to the music of a drum and flute, on a stage lighted by a branch of four candles from the ceiling. The principal spectator is a female, whose waist is grasped by a person look- ing on over her shoulder ; two men in hats and cloaks are to the right of the flute-player, and in the other corner is a group of uncovered figures, one of whom seems to be a friar. The arch humour of the chief actor’s countenance, and the dexterity with which he buffets and stilts, appear to denote him a joculator. But, without further remark, I submit this curious scene to the consideration of those who are better able to judge of its real character. Mr. Cruikshank’s etching has pre- served not only the spirit of the figures, but the minutiae of the costume. * At p. 241. t Strutt’s Sports, Pref. p. xxvii. 271 other than Guildhall Giants, which on the occasion of a corporation rejoicing, could be removed with the utmost ease. Orator Henley, on the 21st of October, 1730, availed himseif of the anticipated civic festival for that year to deliver a Lecture upon it, mentioning the Giants , which he announced by newspaper advertisement as follows : — - ‘ At the ORATORY, 4 nnHE Corner of Lincoln’s-InmFields, near Clare- market, this Day, being Wednesday, at Six o’Clock in the Evening, will be a new Riding upon an old Cavalcade, entitled THE CITY IN ITS GLORY: Or. My Lord Mayor’s Shew : * Explaining to all Capacities that wonderful Procession, so much envy’d in Foreign Parts, and nois’d at Paris : on my Lord Mayor’s Day; the fine Appearance and Splendor of the Companies of Trade ; Bear and Chain ; the Trumpets, Drums, and Cries, intermix’d ; the qualifi- cations of my L — ’s Horse, the whole Art and History of the City Ladies, and Beaux at Gape-stare in the Balconies; the Airs, Dress, and Motions; the two. giants walking out to keep Holiday ; like Snails o’er a Cabbage, says an old Author, they all crept along ; admir’d by their Wives, and huzza’d by the Throng.’ There is no stronger evidence of the indifference to playfulness and wit at city Elections, than the almost total silence on those occasions respecting such ample subj’ects for allusion and parallel as the Giants in the Hall. Almost the only instance of their application in this way, is to be found in a handbill on oc* casion of a mayoralty election, dated Oct. 4th 1816, addressed ‘ To the London Tavern Livery and ntheir Spouses.’ It states that ‘ the day after Mr. Alderman is elected Lord Mayor for the year ensuing, the following entertainments will be provided for your amusement gratis; viz. 1. The Two Giants, at the lottom of the halt , will dance a minuet by steam, attended by Mr. Alderman , in a new wig upon an elastic principle, a Gentleman having bought half of his old one for the purpose of making a new peruke for the aforesaid giants.’ This is the first humorous allusion to the Giants after their removal to their pre- sent station. 35 It is supposed, by the author of the * Gigantick History/ that the Guildhall giants represent Corinseus and Gogmagog, whose story seems to be to this effect. After the destruction of Troy, Brutus, who was the great grandson of JEneas, fled to Italy, mar- ried the daughter of Latinus, king of Latium, and succeeded him in the kingdom. At fifteen years of age, Brutus accidentally killing his father while hunting, was banished to Greece, and in course of time, collected a band of Trojans, on board a large fleet, and sailed in search of adventures. in two daies and a night Upon the He of Lestrigons they light ; And leaving of their ships at roade, to land They wand’ring went the country for to view : Loe there a desert citie old they fand. And eke a temple (if report be true) Where Dian dwelt, of whom the Trojan crew In sacrifice their captain counsell gave For good successe, a seat and soile to craue. And he no whit misliking their advice Went forth, and did before the altar hold In his right hand a cup to sacrifice, Fil’d both with wine, and white hind’s-blood scarce cold ; And then before her statue straight he .told Devoutly all his whole petition — * * * * When nine times he had spoken this, and went Foure times the altar round, and staid agen, He pour’d the wine and blood in hand he heirt Into the fire He laid him then downe by the altar’s side, Upon the white hind’s skin espred therefore : Of sweetest sleepe, he gave himselfe the more To rest surelie. Then seemed him before Diana chaste, the Goddesse, t© appeare. And spake to him. She acquainted Brutus, that far to the west beyond Gaul was a sea-girt isle, which he should conquer and rule over, and his sons 273 after him, to whom other nations should become subject. Encou- raged by this prediction, they continued their adventures, And sail’d to Tuscane shores on Europe coast that lie. When at the last amongst the men they did descrie Foure banisht bands of Troians in distresse, Companions of Antenor in his flight, But Corinceus was their captain than, For counsell grave a wise and worthie wight ; In wars the praise of valiantnesse he wan. Lord Brutus liked well this noble man, With him full oft confer of fates he wold, And vnto him the oracles he told. With this reinforcement they again set sail, and landed at the haven of Loire in France. Being attacked by the king Goffarius, two hundred Trojans under Corinceus succeeded presently in utterly routing the Frenchmen ; but Corinceus , eager to pursue the flying enemy advanced so far before his followers, that the fugi- tives returned to slay him — There he alone against them all, and they Against him one, with all their force did fight : He achieved prodigies of valour, until Brutus coming up with a fresh troop, ended the strife : the French host were wholly discom- fited, and nearly all destroyed by the victorious Trojans. Tuson, the valiant nephew of Brutus, was slain in this battle, and being buried on the spot, gave name to the city of Tours, which the Tro- jans built to vex the French; but their force being much weakened by their successes, Brutus and Corinaeus set sail once more, and arrived at Totness in Devonshire, in the island of Albion. Those mightie people borne of giants brood That did possesse this ocean-bounded land. They did subdue, who oft in battell stood Gainst them in field, untill by force of hand They were made subject unto Brute’s command : Such boldness then did in the Briton dwell. That they in deeds of valour did excell, !Jt 274 Unable to cope with these experienced warriors none escaped, Save certain giants whom they did pursue, Which straight to caves in mountaines did them get. So fine were woods, and floods, and fountaines set So cleare the aire, so temperate the clime, They never saw the like before that time. Perceiving that this -was the country, denoted by the oracle, wherein they were to settle, Brutus divided the island among his followers, which with reference to his own name he called Britain. To Corinaeus gave he, frank and free, The land of Cornwall for his service done, And for because from giants he it won. Corinaeus was the better pleased with this allotment, inasmuch as he had been used to warfare with such terrible personages. The employment he liked fell afterwards to his lot. For, as on the sea-coast of Cornwall, Brutus was accustomed to keep a peaceable anniversary of his landing, so on a certain day, being one of these festivals, a band of the old giants made their appear- ance, and suddenly breaking in upon the mirth and rejoicings, began another sort of amusement than at such a meeting was expected. The Trojans seized their arms, and a desperate battle was fought, wherein the giants were all destroyed, save Goemagog , the hugest among them, who being in height twelve cubits, was reserved alive, that Corinteus might try his strength with him in single combat. Corinaeus desired nothing more than such a match, out the old giant in a wrestle caught him aloft and broke three of ^is ribs. Upon this Corinaeus being desperately enraged, collected J his strength, heaved up Goemagog by main force, and y taring .4im on his shoulders to the next high rock, threw him headlong, all shattered, into the sea, and left his name on the cliff, which has been ever since called Lan-Goemagog, that is to say, the Giant’s Leap. Thus perished Goemagog, commonly called Gog- magog, the last of the giants. Brutus afterwards built a city in a cho/en spot, and called it Troja Nova, which changed in time to 275 iriDovantum, and is now called London. An ancient writer records these acnievements in Britain to have been performed at the time when Eli was the high-priest in Judea.* Mr- Archdeacon Nares in his Glossary, corroborates the Gi- ga^tick Historian’s supposition concerning the personages that the Guiidhall statues represent, by a quotation from the under- mentioned work, of some old verses printed on a broad sheet, 1660: And such stout Coronoeus was, from whom Cornwall’s first honor, and her name doth come. For though he sheweth not so great nor tall, In his dimensions set forth at Guildhall , Know ’tis a poet only can define A gyant’s posture in a gyant’s line. ***** And thus attended by his direful dog, The gyant was (God bless us) Gogmagog. British Bibliogr. iv. p. 277. The author of the Gigantick History supposes, that as 1 Cori» nseus and Gogmagog were two brave giants, who nicely valued their honour, and exerted their whole strength and force in defence of their liberty and country ; so the city of London, by placing these their representatives in their Guildhall, emblematically declare, that they will, like mightv giants, defend the honour of their coun- try and liberties of this their city, which excels all others, as much as those huge giants exceed in stature the common bulk of mankind/ Each of these Giants, as they now stand, measures upwards of fourteen feet in height : the young one is believed to be Corinaeus, and the old one Gog-magog. Such being the chief particulars respecting these enormous carvings, the terror of the children, the wonder of the ’pren- tices, and the talk of the multitude of former days, I close the * This account of Corinseus and Gogmagog, is chiefly extracted from Milton's Early History of Britain, b. i. and the Mirrour for Magistrates . Each of these works deriving most of the facts related from Jeffery of Monmouth. 27G subject, satisfied with having authenticated their origin. In order to perpetuaie their appearance, they are drawn and etched by Mr. George Cruikshank, whose extraordinary talents have been happiiv exercised on my more original fancies. As this may be the last time that I shall ever write Mr. Cruikshank’s name for the press, 1 cannot but express my astonishment, that a pencil which commands the admiration of every individual qualified to appreciate art, should be disregarded by that class, whose omission to secure it in their service, is a remarkable instance of disregard to their own interests as the midwives of literature. And here, Reader, m- st end our desultory intercourse on these affairs. It has not been conducted on my part so well as it might, had time and circumstances permitted me to completely avail myself of the few facilities in ray power. ‘ Thou wilt, may be, not thank me for what I have done, and complain of me for having left so much undone. All this I do believe thou mayest do justly ; but thou wilt be my witness that I have been at some trouble. In short, if thou ever wert an editor of such books, thou wilt have some compassion on my failings, being sensible of the toil of such sort of creatures ; and if thou art not yet an editor, I beg truce of thee till thou art one, before thou censurest ray endeavours.* FARE WE IX* I ADDENDA. * Let it be book’d with the rest.’ Shakspeare. The present note is composed of a few scraps, selected from a parcel thrown into the fire. This saving regard, with the mis- cellaneousness of the preceding sheets, and the desire to keep the press going while the plate of the Fools’ Morris Dance was in preparation, are the real occasion and only apology for more last words. Brief notice of De Partu Virginia, a Poem , by Sannazarius — Triumph of Death, a Carnival Pageant , by Pietro de Cosimo — Hell Torments Arno — Harmony and Flagellation of the Order of St. b A; ip Neri—St. Macarius and his Flea — Natives of Strood in Kent born tvilh tails — Strange licence to a book — Ribera and Lessius on the dimensions of Hell - - Our Lady of Carmel's confraternity — St. Ignatius's Vision of the Trinity— ‘Picture of it by Rubens — Origin of the letters I II S in Churches — The Triangle, an emblem of the Trinity— Rammohun Roy's refutation of it — Beehive of the Romish Church — Catholii allegory of Bells — The Ringer's Guide — Satan and the Soul — All for Money . Sannazarius, born at Naples in 1458, ranks with Vida and Fracas- torius, as the first of the Latin poets among the Italians, chiefly on account of a poem called De Partu Virginis. It took him several years to compose, and twenty years to re?ise ; and to commemorate the sub- ject he founded a church, and dedicated it ‘ Al Saniissima Parto della Gran Madro di Dio.’ The poem is particularly described in a Prefatory Discourse to a new Edition of the Psalms of David j translated into Latin verse, by Dr. Arthur Jonston, Physician to King Charles I. (Lon- don, 1741, 8vo.) Whence it appears that Sannazarius introduces highly dramatic scenes from the Now Testament Apocrypha, with classical 3 ? 278 machinery ; and produces anachronisms strikingly similar to tho game incongruity in the representation of the Feast of the Ass. It-*is won- derful that with pretension to taste he could have penned so extraordi- nary a production. Making the virgin, in astonishment at the annun- ciation, become pale and look down upon the ground, he compares her surprise to that of a poor damsel, who, seeing a ship under sail coming towards her, whilst she is gathering cockles on the sea-shore with .her petticoats tucked up, is in such confusion that she neither lets down her petticoats, nor runs to her companions, but trembles in silence, and is immoveable with fear. After the conception, Famo descends to tho infernal regions to inform the inhabitants of the approaching birth, and to acquaint them that they are to leave Tartarus and Acheron, and the howling and barking of tho three-backed dog. This occasions great joy among the blessed spirits, and David being inspired to sing, has a prophetic vision, after relating which the blessed shout for jov, and carry David on their shoulders along the bank of the river. At this the Furies arc troubled, aud Cerberus being fright- ened, frightens the damned with his terrible howling, and hides his black tail between his legs. Mary’s delivery takes place in a rave, according to the legend of the Protevangelion , xii. 14, xiv. 4, &c, hi the Aj)Oc. N. Test. Sue wraps up the child and puts him into her , bosom, the cattle cherish him with their breath, an ox falls on his knees, and an ass docs the same. The poet declaring them both happy, after many commendations, promises they shall be honoured at all the. altars in Home, and apostrophizes the virgin on occasion of the respect the ox aud ass have shewn her. This introduction of the ox and the ass warming the infant in the crib, with their breath, is a fanciful construc- tion by catholic writers on Isaiah, i. 3, ‘ The ox knoweth Jus owner, and the ass his master's crib in engravings they are so represented to the present day, as may be seen by reference to rude wood-cuts attached to Christmas carols. After relating the particulars of the virgin’s delivery, the poet makcs*God assemble the angels, while he sits on a throne with a large garment flying over his shoulders, which Nature watching clay and night had woven for him: ‘ Quam quondam, ut perhibent, vigilans noetesquo diesque, Ipsa suo nevit rcrum Natura Tonanti.’ b. iii. v. 10, 20. Amongst other things represented upon this garment, arc the shapeless clay out of which the human race arose, birds flying through the air, beasts wandering in the woods, fishes swimming in the sea, and the sea itscif foaming. God in his speech to the angels, recommends them to be favorable to mankind, and calls a female to him, named Leetitia, who happened at that time not to be employed in dancing. ‘ LaDtitiam cliorcis turn forte racantcm Advocat.* v. 93, 94. lie sends her with her train to earth, to give notice of Christ’s birth to the shepherds. She tells them to go and see a queen rocking a cradle, and a king in straw, and vanishes with her train. The astonished shepherds cannot imagine what royal persons they arc to inquire for, aud wander over the heath all night, till at last they discover the cave 279 by the braying of the ass. In a transport of joy they pull up a va*»fc laurel, a huge palm, and olive trees by the roots, and planting thorn round the cave, sing and dance, and make various kinds of melody, Joseph looks out of the cave, and asks what they are doing ? Informing him by what means they were sent thither, all of them shake hands, and go into the cave together, where they sing about forty lines, almost entirely from Virgil’s pastorals. Angels then begin skirmishing in tho clouds, and bring a crown of thorns, with nails, singing all the time. At this juncture, accidentally, Jordan, the azure king, is revolving things to come. Surrounded by his beautiful daughters. Glance, Doto, Proto, and others, ho is chiefly employed in noticing several figures engraven upon his urn, though ignorant of their meaning, when on a sudden, he sees new springs break out, and perceives the taste of his river to be changed. Putting his head out of the water, he discovers the banks all covered with flowers, and hears the shepherds and tho angels shouting, and declaring that a God was come amongst them. Upon this, Jordan lifts up his hands to heaven, and relates all tho miracles of Christ, which ho says lie had been informed of by Proteus. At the conclusion of his speech, he flings about his shoulders the garment which tho beautiful nymphs of the streams formerly wove for him in their humid caves ; and finally, r>lunging himself into the river, tho fable ends. Italy, the birth-place of Sannazavius, the land of classic achievement in ancient times, and of superstitious fable and ceremony in after times, presented to Christian poets and dramatists a rich and various harvest. From thence they supplied constant amusement to the lovers of the marvellous ! if it were seldom selected with elegance, this i3 rather ascribable to the restrictions prescribed by the sumptuary laws of spiritual domination, than to want of fancy in the purveyors for public entertainment. It is already noticed (at p. 192, ante) that from the Fathers of the Oratory, at Home, proceeded the performances called Oratorios. Tho rules of this religious order savor of no small severity. By the Institu- tions of the Oratory (printed at Oxford, 1687, 8vo, p. 49) they are required to mix corporal punishments with their religious harmony : 4 From the first of November to the feast of the Resurrection, their con- templation of celestial things shall be heightened by a concert of music ; and it is also enjoined, that at certain seasons of frequent occurrence, they all whip themselves in the oratory. And the custom is, that after half an hour’s mental prayer, the officers distribute whips made of small cords full of knots, put forth the children, if there be any, and carefully shutting the doors and windows, extinguish the other lights, except only a small candle so placed in a dark lanthorn upon tho altar, that the crucifix may appear clear and visible but not reflecting any light, thus making all the room dark : then the priest in a loud and doleful voice, prouounceth the verse Jube Domine bencdicere , and going through an appointed service, comes Apprehendite disci piinam, &c. ; at which words, taking their whips, they scourge their naked bodies during tho recital of the 50th I’salm, Miserere , and tho 129th, De profundis, with several prayers ; at the conclusion of which, upon a sign given, they end their whipping, and put on their clothes in the dark and in silenco.’ The Golden Legend relates an anecdote of St. Macarius which must im- press every one with certainty, that had the saint lived so late, and been honoured by admission into the order of the Oratory, ho would Lave 280 practised its rules. ‘ It happed on a tyme ihat lie kylled a flee that bote hym ; and when he sawe the blode of this flee, he repented hym, and anone unclothed hym, and wente naked in the deserto vi. monethes, and sufi'red hymselfe to be by ten of fives. * But the same authority exemplifies the fact, that saints are not alike forbearing ; for the apostle of England, St. Austin, came to a certain town, inhabited by wicked people, who * refused hys doctryne and prechyng uterly, and drof hym out of the towne, castying on “hym the tayles of thornback, or lyke fysshes ; wherefore he besought Almighty God to shewe hys jugement on them ; and God sent to them a shamefull token ; for the chyldren that were born after in the playce, had tayles, as it is sayd, tyll they had repented them. It is said comynly that this fyll at Strode in Kente ; but blyssyd be Gode, at thys daye is no such deformyte. ’ Iteligious plays are shewn (at p^ 169, ante) to have been common in Italy during the thirteenth century, where spiritual shows of all sorts were set forth iii almost every possible form. Sir John Hawkins, ( History of Music , iii. 448.) from Felibien, has given an account of a spectacle, invented and exhibited at Florence in the year 1510, by Pieiro Cosimo, the painter, which Hawkins terms the most whimsical and at the same time the most terrifying that imagination can conceive. 4 Having taken a resolution to exhibit this extraordinary spectacle at the approaching carnival, Cosimo shut himself up in a great hall, and there disposed every thing so secretly for the execution of his design, that no one had the least suspicion of what he was about In the evening of a certain day in the carnival season, there appeared in one of the chief streets of the city a chariot painted black, with white crosses and dead men’s bones, drawn by six buffaloes ; and upon the end of the pole stood the figure of an angel with the attributes of Death, and hold- ing a long trumpet in his hands, which he sounded in a shrill and mournful tone, as if to awaken and raise the dead: upon the top of the chariot sat a figure with a scythe in his hand, representing Death, having under his feet many graves, from 'which appeared, half way out, the bare bones of carcases. A great number of attendants, clothed in black and white, masked with Death’s heads, marched before and behind the chariot, bearing torches, which enlightened it at distances so well chosen, that every thing seemed natural. There were heard as they marched, muffled trumpets, whose hoarse and doleful sounds served as a signal for the procession to stop. Then the sepulchres were seen to open, out of which proceeded, as if by resurrection, bodies resembling skeletons, who sung in a sad and melancholy tono, airs suitable to tho subject, as Dolor pianto e Penitenza , and others, composed with all that art and invention which the Italian music is capable of ; while the pro- cession stopped in the public place, the musicians sung with a continued and tremulous voice, the psalm Miserere , accompanied with instruments covered with crape, to render their sounds more dismal. The chariot was followed by many persons habited like corpses, and mounted upon the leanest her^s that could be found, spread with black housings, bavin white crosses ana death’s heads painted at the four corners. Each of the riders had four persons to attend, habited in shrouds like the dead, each with a torch in one hand, and a standard of black taffeta, painted with white crosses, bones, and death’s heads in the other. In short, all that horror can imagine most affecting at tho resur- rection of the dead, was represented at this masquerade, which was intended to represent the Triumph of Death . A spectacle so sad and 281 mournful struck a damp through Florence ; and, although in a time of festivity, made penitents of some, while others admiring the ingenious manner in which every thing was conducted, praised the whim of the inventor, and the execution of a concert so suitable to the occasion.’ Appalling as this exhibition undoubtedly was, yet its terrors must have been exceeded by one in the same city, from whence Hawkins supposes that Cosimo’s was taken. This was the performance of the Torments of the Damned , at the festival of the 1st of May, 1304, when, according to Sismondi, the bed of the river Arno was transformed into a representa- tion of the Gulf of Hell, and all the variety of suffering that the imagi- nation of monks or of the poets had invented, were inflicted, by streams of boiling pitch, flames, ice, and serpents, on real persons, whose cries and groans rendered the horrors of the scene complete. Few subjects have exercised curiosity to a greater extent than Hell. The author of the Discovery of cl world in the Moon, (1638, 12mo. p. 201.) relates that Francis Ribera, in his Commentary on a passage in the Revelations, (xiv. 20,) which says that the blood came out of the wine-press even unto the horse bridles , by the space of a thousand and six hundred furlongs, interprets * this number to be meant of Hell, and as expressive of its concavity, which he reckons at two hundred Italian miles ; but Lessius {De Morib. 1. xiii. c. 24,) thinks that this opinion gives them too inucli room in Hell, and therefore he guesses that it is not so wide ; for, (saith he) the diameter of one league being cubicaliy multiplied, will make a sphere capable of containing eight hundred thousand millions of damned bodies, allowing to each six feet in the square, whereas, says he, it is certain that there shall not be one hun- dred thousand millions in all that shall be damned.’ The Golden Legend, allegorises the cross to be a wine-press, c in suclie wyse that the blood of Christ sprang oute ; but our champyon fought too strongly and defowled the pressour soo foule, that he brake the bondes of synne and ascended into heaven ; and after thys he opened the taverne ot heven and poured out the wine of the holy goost.’ Nearly akin to these representations and speculations, are the miraculous stories that formerly obtained credence. A tract, printed at Houay, in 1626, called Jardinet des Delicc's Celestes j la plus revelee par N. S. Jesus a Saincte Gertrude, bears the approbation ‘ par nostre Sauveur mesmef who says : ‘ All which is in this book is agreeable to me, and full of the ineffable softness of my holy love, from which, as from a fountain, all is drawn that is here written. All that is in this book is composed, arranged, and written by me, I using the hands of others, according to my good will and pleasure.’ Such were the inventions that created and gratified the craving of bigotted ignorance not two centuries ago. Indeed we find the most illustrious devotees practising the grossest follies and propagating the silliest tales to effect their purposes. If in our days the supply is smaller, it is because dotard faith is less ; yet A short Treatise of the Antiquity , Privileges , &c. of the Confraternity of our Dlessed Lady of Mount Carmel , (London, 1796, 18mo.) revives many absurd tales, apparently with the hope that they may persuade its readers to become brethren of our Lady of Carmel. It states that ‘ Good Christians have so great esteem for religious Sodalities, that they are every where in Catholic countries most generally frequented ; some enrolling themselves in the confraternity of the most blessed trtnity, others in that of the Rosary, &c.’ Refer- ring to the treatise itself for an enumeration of miracles and influences 282 whicn no rational person would imagine could now be cited ns induce- ments to such a purpose, it is amusing to turn to the Life of St. Ignatius (by Father Bouhours, London, 1686, 8vo. p. 31.) for a Vision of the Trinity , which the biographer states that the Founder of- the Jesuits was favoured with. 1 One day, in a most lively manner there wa 3 represented to him the mystery of the Holy Trinity. Going after- wards in a solemn procession, all his thoughts were upon that mystery ; he could not speak but of the Trinity, but he spoke so that the most learned admired him, and the most ignorant were instructed by him. He wrote down his conceptions on no less than fourscore leaves, since lost.’ A splendid picture from the pencil of Rubens, now in Warwick Castle, represents the Jesuit in his rapture, contemplating this mystery. His uplifted eyes are fixed on the letters I. H. S. blazing in the centre ot a flame of lire. Yet these letters, which are still placed on the pulpits and altar-pieces of Protestant churches, .denote neither Trinity nor Unity, but only exemplify the ignorance and mistake of manuscript- writers in the early ages. This is shewn by Mr. Casley, in his preface to the Catalogue of the King's MSS. (p. xxiii). He says that ‘in Latin MSS. the Greek letters of the word Christus, as also Jesus, are always retained, except that the terminations are changed according to the Latin language. Jesus is writen I H S, or in small characters i h s, which is the Greek I II Z, or i « f, an abbreviation of iwo-ug. However, the scribes knew nothing of this a thousand years before the invention of printing ; for if they had, they would not have written I H S, for inwer. Praty , pretty. Prest, priest. Prevydens, providence. Prevydens, prerogative. Prow, honour , profit. P’stis, priests. P’vyde, 40, a contraction for pur- veyed ? P’uyly, privily. Pylg’mys, pilgrims. Pyn, pain. Pypys, pipes. Q. Qwedyr, quiver quake. Qwelie, to destroy, to kill. Qwen, queen. Qwer, quire, choir. Qwy k, quick, alive. R. Rage, wanton toying. Rape, to be in haste. Reft, bereft , taken away . Ren, run. Repreve, reproof. Reprevyd, reproved. Re w lyd, ruled. Roddys, rods. Rowte, a company. Ryff, rife , common, openly. Ry^htwysnes, rytewisnes, righteous* ness. Ryth, right. S. Sapyens, wisdom. Sawe, saw, an old saying . Sawys, sayings. Sawter, psalter. Scarfawst, a scaffold. Schadu, shadcnv. Schape, p 65, escape. Schapp, shape. Scherit, shent, hurt, spoiled, ruiaea Schryve, shrive, to confess. Schul, shall. Sclepyr, slippery. Se, see, a province, a dominion. Sees, cease. Sefne, seven. Sekernedys,p, 67, look out for work , seek support. Sekyr, p, 47, as usual . Sekyrly,y?, 68, to seek them 2 Sen, see. Ser’, sir. Serys, sirs, Ses, ctus*~ GK*OSSAA7. 292 Sesyd, seised, possessed of, Sexte, sixth. Seyd, seed; also said. Seyden, had said. Seyn, seen, said , saying. Seyng, saying. Shrewe, to curse. Shullen, should. Shvrle, churl . glynge, sling, to hurl or throw. Sofreynes, sovereynes, sovereigns. Somnor, a summoner, an apparitor. Somowne, summon. Sonde, message, messenger. Songen, sung. Sor’we, sorrow. Sothfastnes, truth. Sothly, truly Sowlen, souls. Alle Soulen day, All Souls’ day. Sownde, message. Sowte, sought. Spowsage, espousals. Spyllyth, spoileth. Starkly, strongly . Stere, stir, to move. Stond, stonde, stand Stytelerys, p. 22 7 Suster, sister. Sustren, sisters. Swinke, labour. Swyche, such. Sybbe, a relative by blood. Syerge, a wax-taper. Sygt, sight, presence. ,Syse, assize, judgment. Syth,jp, 46, time . Syth, p . 46, afterwards. Syttyth, sitteth. T. Take,^>, 34, show. Tast,_p, 70, feel. Tende, tend, wait on. Tent, attention, heed, warning. Thonking, thanking , Thor’, p. 41, thorough; als^ therefore • Thor’ we, through. Thorwe outh, throughout. Threttv, thirty. Thrydde, third. Thryste, thirst. Thwyn, be thy wn, between . Thynkyht, think, thought it. To, too. To, hyge, tec high. Tolle, tell. Ton, toes. Tow’r ,p. 14, heavenly rese. Trayne, connection. Tribus, tribe. Tron, throne. Trowe, think. Trowth, truth , faith. Tweyn, two. Tweyner’s metyng, the meeting of two. Ve’geabyl, revengful. Verament, verily, truly. U. Unknowledge, ignorance . W. Wede, apparel. Wend, go. Wene, think, guess, conjecture. Werd, werde, world. Werkys, works. Wers, worse. Wete, know , understand. Weten, understood. Whyte, white. Wis, wys, know, imagine. Wole, wilt. Wonyng, dwelling-place. Wrank, p, Gd, wrong? Wrecchis, wretches. Wurchepp, worship. Wurdys, words. X. Xal, shall. Y. Y, sometimes stands for th. Yardys, rods , wands. Yer, years. Yerd, yard, a rod, a wand. Yettis, gates. Yne, eyes. Yturne , changed , alter**. Z. Zynge, young. end of the GLOSSARY, 1 N D E X . A Abraham and Isaac, a mystery, acted at*Newcastle, 213. Actium, anniversary of tbe battle of, turned into the feast of St. Peter ad vincula, 160. Acts of theApostles,agrand mystery, performed at Paris, 175. Procla- mation for its performance, 177. prohibited by the parliament, 179. Adam and Eve naked on the stage, 220 . Address to to the audience at the per- formance of a mystery, 57. Albans, St., the Devil seen there, 89. copes, borrowed from theAbbey for the miracle play atDunstable,200. All for Money, a play, 288. Andrews, St., Holborn, Boy Bishop, 198 . Ann and Joachim, prints of their apocryphal story, 107. 112. de- votional honours to Ann, 113. their wedding-ring, 116. Annunciation and Birth of Christ, a mystery, acted at Civita Yecchia, 169. at Munich, 191 Anthony, St., of Padua, for miracles performed, receives the rank of cap- tain in aPortuguese regiment, 189. ApocryphalNewTestament subjects, engravings of, 107. Apollinarius . Bishop of Laodicea, and his father, turn subjects of the Old andNewTestament into plays, 151. Applause anciently expressed in churches, 153. Aroint, arongt, arongt, 138. authori- ties concerning, 146. Arsenic in the Chester giants, 269. A ss, Feast of the,160.the ass formerly in Palm Sunday processions, 162. vulgar notion concerning his marks, ifo'd.hymn in his praise, 163. Autolycus’s ballad, 136. B. Bacchanalian andSaturnalian sports, succeeded by religious shows, 157. 159 . Bale, Bishop, notice of him and of tovs teries he wrote, 226. 39 Baldini and Boticelli, engrave a cu- rious print of hell, 122. Bamberg, remarkable performance of a mystery there, 185. and a religious procession of the Passion, ' 187. Baptizing of Christ, a mystery, acted at Newcastle, 213. Bartholomew Fair, Creation of the World, Noah’s Flood, and Dives and Lazarus performed there, 230. Bassingborne, miracle play, 215. Bedford Missal, 112, 165. Beehive of the Romish Church, 220. 222. 283. Begrande, Mad., plays in the mystery of Susannah, at Paris, 189. Bellarmine, Card., the division of hell into compartments erroneously attributed to him, 122. Bells spiritualized, 284 Benedictine convent at Clerkenwell, 207. Bernard’s St., Querela, l4l. Bibles, their scarcity formerly, 202. Birth of Christ, &c. acted in a pup- pet-show at Dieppe, 189. of Mary, a Coventry mystery, described, 13. Boar'8-head Carols, 100, 102. Bodleian Library, MSS. of Cornish mysteries of the Deluge, Passion, and Resurrection there, 217. Boeck van Jhesus Leven, contains wood-cuts from apocryphal story, 112 . 122 . Botolph, St., without Aldersgatc, chartulary of the brethren of the Holy Trinity described, 73. Boy Bishop, 166. the ceremony de- scribed, 193 — 200. Branch in churches, 83. Brussels, superstition there concern- ing dogs 172. Burial of Christ and the Virgin, mys- teries acted at Newcastle, 214. Buttock-bone of Pentecost, 88. C. Cambray Boy Bishop, 197 Cambridge University, its igk .ranee of Greek in the time of Era%muS) 157. INDEX. 2‘J4 Candles, Thirteen, allegorical of Christ and the Apostles, 78. a triangular one allegorical of the Trinity, ibid, candles in Catholic worship borrowed from the ancient Romans, 84. Canterbury Cathedral, the Descent intoHell in one of the windows, and the Apocryphal Gospel of Nico- demus, formerly chained to the pillars, 123. Carols, Christmas, notices concern- ing, 90. lists of those now printed, 97. specimens of carol-cuts, 100. Castle of Good Preservanse, a mora- lity, 227. Caxton’s Pilgrimage of the Sowle, 122, 23o. Caxton, the monks alarmed at his press, 228. Chaplains compose mysteries, 215. Chester mysteries in the British Mu- seum, 200. giants, 268. Chevalier qui donne sa femme au Diable, a mystery, 174. Children, custom to whip them on Innocents’ day, 195. Christ allegorised by candles, 83. prints of his apocryphal story, 108. his blood at his crucifixion said to have descended into hell, 123. his approbation affixed to a book, 282. Christmas, Gerard, improves the figures in the pageants, 267. City accounts, entry of the sum paid to the carver of the giants, 267. companies’ barges first built, 249. election wit on the present Lon- don giants, 271. poet, 262. Clara, St., an allegory of the Trinity, fonnd in her gall, 88. Clergy, their ignorance in former times, 156. they destroy ancient MSS., 157. introduce ludicrous shows into the church, ibid, decline in power in England, 204. Clerk at the Eton Montem, strangely used by the chaplain after prayers, 199. Clerkenwell, mysteries perform’d there, 206. extracts from the rate books, 207. ChurchService in honour of the ass, 162 ., Churchwardens hire players to pes^ form the mysteries, 218, Colet, Dean, orders the children of St. Paul’s school to attend the Boy Bishop’s sermon, 198. Cuiistance council of, mysteries acted there, 170. Conscience, the Worm of, described, 287. Cornish Miracle Plays, 217. Coventry mysteries in the British Museum, 200. mystery of the Sheremen and Tailors, 218. pageants there, 235. the lay- men’s parliament held there, 203. Council of the Trinity and the Incar- nation, a Coventry mystery, de- scribed, 38. illustrated from a MSS., 72. Creation of the World, a mystery, acted at Civita Vecchia, 169. at Lisbon, 181. at Bamberg, 185. at Clerkenwell, 206. in a puppet- show at Bath, 229. at Bartholo- mew fair, 230. to the resurrec- tion, a series of mysteries acted at York, on Corpus Christi day, 213 Creeping to the Cross, 221. Croydon, the Vicar of, preaches against printing, 228. Cruikshank, Mr. George, his talents as an artist, 276. D. Damned, whether all or omy some were released on Christ’s Descent into hell, 121. Soul, a mystery, at Turin, 183. Daniel in the Lion’s Den, a mystery, acted at Paris, in 1817, 188. David, a sacred comedy, performed at Berlin in 1804, 192. at Vienna, in 1810, ibid, and again, during the congress there, in 1815, ibid. Death, Hell and the Devil, in a pageant at Haerlem, 233. Death’s Triumph, a pageant at Flo- rence, 280. December Liberties, 159. Deliverance of Israel, a mystery, acted at Newcastle, 214. Descent into Hell, 120. prints iFnic- trating, 121 Hearne’s print of it, 138e mysteries on this subject INDEX. m acted at Coventry and Chester, 203. at Winchester, 215 of the Holy Ghost repre- sented on Wh t Sunday, 221. Devil, his strange appearance at St. Albans, 80. left alone in hell at the Resur- rection, 131. a tail-piece, 142. dressed in a mystery in scarlet stockings, and a gold-laced hat, 181. Dialogue betwixt the body and soul of a damned maq, 141. Dieppe, mysteries there, with pup- pets, 190. Dives, and Lazarus, Job’sSufferings, Susannah, &c., mysteries acted by Eadcliffe’s scholars 205. Divesand Lazarus in a puppet-show at Bar- tholomew fair, 230. Dogs of Brussels receive consecrated bread annually, 172. Don Juan, founded on Punch in the puppet show, 230. Douce, Mr., on the Feast of Fools, Feast of the Ass, and other bur- lesque ceremonies, 105. his girdle of an abbot of fools, 166. Dragon’s tail allegorical of the king- dom of Satan, 134. Drama, the ancient, superseded by the religious plays of Gregory Nazianzen, &c., 151. Dramatic exhibitions denounced by the Fathers, 148. Dunstan St., an i the Devil, in a pa- geant on Lord Mayors’ Day, 259. Dunstable, a mystery acted there by the scholars of the abbey, 199. Durham, creeping to the cross in the cathedral, 222. E. Edinburgh, Pageants there, 237. Edward 1., vespers said before him by a Boy Bishop, 198. 201. , VI., author of the Whore of Babylon, a comedy, 225. Eleusinian Mysteries scenic, 152 Elizabeth, Queen, her statue at Tem- ple Bar, 245. Ely House, a mystery performed there, 216. 231. F^taUishmect of fcbe Church, 154, Eton Boy Bishop, 199. Monton? ibid. Latin plays, 205. Every Man, a morality, 228, F. Falcon on the Hoop Brewery, Alders- gate- street, 80. Feast of the Ass, how observed, 159. at Rouen, 161. at Beauvais, ibid. of Fools, its ridiculous obser- vances, 159. Flagellation of the Fathers of the Oratory, 279. Fools’ Morris Dance, 270. Franciscan Friars at Coventry, 205. G. Gallantee show of the Prodigal Son, 231. Geoffrey the Norman composes a mi- racle play, 199. George, St., the Holy Martyr, a mira- cle play acted atBassingbourne, 215 . Giants in Guildhall described and their origin authenticated, 2G2- — 276. in the setting of the London watch on St., John’s eve, 269. and at Chester, 268. Gilbert, Mr. Davies, notice of his work ou Christmas Carols, 106. Gh»ry of the Blessed, acted at Paris, 170 . Goginagogand Corin 0 eus,two giants, in a Pageant at Temple Bar, 241. also at London Bridge, 268. his- tory of the personages they repre- sented, 272 — 4. Goldsmith’s Company, their stu- pendous pageant on Lord Mayors’ Day, 258 8 Grandmother of God, a term applied to Ann, 114. Granger, ou mental equality, 101. Greek denounced as the mother of heresies, 156. poetry destroyed by the clergy, 168. Greek studies change the character of popular amusement, 241. Gregorie on the Boy Bishop, 195. Gregory the Great’s instructions to Austin, concerning pagan templea in England, 160. Nazianzen, Patriar&Jj 20G INDEX. Constantinople, composes plays from Scripture, 151. 153. Gregory Thaumaturgus, institutes festivals to saints on heathen an- niversaries, 159. Grotesque Carvings in churches, 106. Guildhall, shops within it formerly, 267. Chapel, parish clerks’ feasts there, 208. H. Ilaorlaem, a splendid pageant there, 141. characters in it, 232. llaro, Harro, Harrow, &c., 147- Harrowing of Hell, 139. Ilatto, Bishop of Mentz, his story represented in a pageant, 233. Hatton on the giants of Guildhall, 203. 265. Ilawk wood. Sir John, represented in a Lord Mayor’s Pageani, 253. Hearne’s print of the Descent into Hell considered, 238. Ileatlicote, Sir Gilbert, Lord Mayor, the last who rode on horseback in the show, 261. Heaven in a pageant, 238. llell, how divided, 122. its dimen- sions, 281- Mouth, in prints, in the great windows of York Cathedral, and on the west front of LincolnCathed- ral, 17-3. on the stage, ibid. 217. Torments, a pageant on the Arno, 281. Henley, Orator, lectures on Lord Mayor’s Show and the Giants, 271. Henry VII. entertained on twelfth night with a carol, 100. the Descent into 1 1 cl 1 performed before him, 2 15. VIII. abrogates the BoyBishop, 198 — 199. entertained by Robin Hood, in a May game at Shooter’s Hill, 223. forbids the acting of plays in churches, 229. Heresy and Heretics, 153. Herod’s murder of thelnnocents com- memorated, 195. Heton, near Newcastle on Tyne, ves- pers said there by a Boy Bishop, before Edward I., 198. Hey wood John, his Four P’s, 87. 139. 1 lolly and the Ivv, a Christmas carol, hi. Howleglas, his aavontimi *, priest at the sepulchre on Eastef day, 223. Hubert, St., patron of degs, 172. 1 . I. H. S. origin of the letters, 282. J. Jack Suacker of Wytney, 225. James II,, fireworks with statues of the London giants exhibited before him, 264. Jf w-bonc of All-hallows, 87 Jerome whipped by angels, 150. Jesse, the, in pageants, ike. 83. Jesus the true Messiah, a religions play, 22G. Joachim, see Ann and Joachim. Johnson, Dr. on aroint in Shakspeare, 138. Joseph’s Jealousy, a Coventry mystery, described 46. set forth in the Coventry mystery ol the Sheremen and Taylors, 218- Christmas carol on, 90. prints of his apocryphal history, 108. his miraculous wedding-ring, 110. Judo’s Epistle, considered by Michaolis, 137. Julian, the emperer, prohibits liberal instruction to Christians. 105. remarkable consequences, 151. K. Kentigern, St., works a miracle, 84. Knight, Mr. R. P., describes a form of the Trinity at nierapolis, 88 L. Lady of Carmel’s confraternity, 282. Latimer, Bishop, his complaint of Robin Hood’s day, 223. Leadenhall, machinery for the page- ants kept there, 234. Leverge, Jos., gallantce show-man of the Prodigal son, 231. Litanyfor the reconversion ofEnglaud to the Catholic faith, 154. a mock one, sung to amuse the corporation and their guests on Lord Mayor’s day, 25G. Lord Mayor’s show described, 24 G — 2G0. Lucifer, with a triune head, 86. Lydgate, author of ‘ pageants,’ 214. M. Macarius, St., and his ftea, 280. INDEX. 207 Mai recovers lost writings of Cicero, 157. Marriott, Mr., purveyor of the armour used on Lord Mayor’s day, 261. Mary I. revives the Boy Bishop, 198. he sings before her, ibid, Mary, St. at Hill, Boy Bishop, 198. , St. Offery (Overy), Boy Bishop, 198. , Virgin, her Education in the Temple and being served by Angels, a Coventry mystery, described, 20. prints of her apocryphal story, 108, &c. devotions to her honour and to her miraculous wedding-ring. 116. Mass, the, allegorizes Christ’s Descent into Hell, 132. Massacre of the Innocents, a mystery, acted by the English fathers at the Council of Constance, 170. May games, 223. Merchant Taylors, a song to their honor in a pageant, 255. Michael’s contention with the Devil, for the body of Moses, 134. Miracle Plays at Cornwall, 217. Miraculous Birth, and the midwives, a Coventry Mystery, described, 67. Espousal of Mary and Joseph, a Coventry mystery, de- scribed, 27. Host tortured by a Jew at Paris, 171. mysteries founded on it, 172. Miserable Scald Masons, 242, Montem at Eton, 199. Moore, Mr., on mysteries atParis,188. Moralities defined, 227. Morris-Dance. 221,269. a painting of one described, 270. Mysteries, their origin on the Conti- nent, 168. In England, 200. when first performed in the English tongue, 201. defined, 227- N Nebuchadnezzar’s Furnace, acted at theFeast of the A ss atRouen, 161. Neuf Chatel, lord of, nearly dead on the cross while performing in a mystery, 173. New Custom, a morality, 226. German Ass of Balaam, a comedy, 226. — — ■ Testament, unknown to many of the ancient clergy, 156. Eras- mus’s forbidden atCambridge, 157. persons burnt who possessed Wi« clifie’s, 204. Newcastle-upon-Tyne mysteries, 2l3 Nicey, Jean de, liung in a mystery till almost lifeless, 173. Nicholas, St., his miraculous restora- tion of murdered children, 194. patron of scholars and parish clerks, 194,208. Nicodemus, gospel of, formerly ex- posed to be read in Canterbury cathedral, 123. Noah’s flood, a mystery on this sub- ject, at Newcastle, 147. at Lisbon. 181. at Chester, 202. at New- castle-on-Tyne, 214. in a puppet show at Bath, 229. at Bartholo- mew fair, 230 in a gallantee show, 231. Norman, Sir John, Lord Mayor, the first who went to Westminster by water, 249. Northumberland, Earl of, his children of the chapel perform mysteries composed by his chaplains, 215. Notborune mayde by John Skot, 1 15. O. Olave, St., the Life of, a mystery acted at St. Olave's church, Silver street, 215. Olave’s, St. Nicholas, in Bread street. Boy Bishop, 198. Old and New Testament, a series of mysteries acted at Paris, 17 1. Oratorios, their origin, 192, 279. Oseney, Abbey of, old custom there, 195. Owlglass, see Howleglas, Ox and Ass, why introduced in prints of the nativity, 278. Oxford University, in 1357, no Bible there, 202. P. Pageants described, 232 — 245. Parish Clerks of London perform mys- teries, 206. their origin, &c. 208- Parishes customarily had Boy Bishops, 197- Passage of the Red Sea, a mysteiy acted lately at Paris, 1 88. Passion of Christ, a mystery on this subject, acted at Friuli, 169. at Civita Vecchia, ibid, at St. Maar t INDEX 29a 170. at Notre Dame, ibid, at Poic- tiers, 171. at Veximiei, 172. again there, 173, before the Lord Mayor, at the Grey-friars, London, 215. St. George, a mystery, act- ed at Paris, 171 . Paul, St., quotes the poets, 151. ’s St., Cathedral, remarkable an- nual procession to the altar, 160. descent of the Holy Ghost, perform- ed at Whitsuntide, 225 descent of a rope dancer from the battlements, 239. a Dutchman stands on the weathercock, 240. service there anciently attended by the Lord Mayor after dinner on Lord Mayor’s day, 249. School, the scholars ordered to hear the Boy Bishop’s sermon, 198. they perform mysteries, 206. are favourite comedians, ibid. petition Richard II. in behalf of their playing, ibid. Peko-tea, Christmas carol on 96. Peirs Ploughman’s vision, 124. Peirs Ploughman’s creed, 127, 214. Pilgremage of the Sowle, a French M.S. of it, 122. specimen of the story, 285. Pilgrims from Jerusalem played mysteries in the streets, 168. Porter of Hell, his office and anti- quity, 139. Press, the, its effects in promoting the Reformation, 229. preached against, 228. Proclamation for performing the Acts of the Apostles at Paris, 178. Prong, held by the porter of Hell, in Hearne’s print, 140, 232. Prynne, William, Defence of Stage Plays, a rare tract, with his name, 216. his Vindication, 217. Psalms sung to song tunes, by the King of France aud his Court, 94. and by the Reformers of Scotland, 95. Punch, 229. His dramatic character in the puppet-show, 230. Drama of Don J uan taken from it ? ibid. Puppet-show of the Resurrection at Witney, 225. of the Creation, &c at flath, 229. of Punch in the street, 230. of the Prodigal Son mentioned by Shakspeare, ibid, of mysteries in 1822. at Dieppe, 189. R. Radeliffe, Ralph, writes mysteries. 205. Ram Inn, Smithfield, 209. Rammohun Roy on symbols of the Trinity, 283. Relics ridiculed, 87. at Hanover, 114. Reynard the Fox, a procession at Paris. 170. Ritson’s honest praise ofHearne, 144. Robinhood, a play, 221, 224. in the May games, 223. Rogation days, 134. Rose, Bishop of Senlis, heads a re- ligious dramatic procession at Paris, 158. Ruben’s pictureofSt. Ignatius, 282. S. Sackville, Isabella, prioress of Clerk- enwell, 209. Salisbury Cathedral, Boy Bishop, 196. Missal, contains cuts from Apocryphal story, 113, 194. San nazarius’s poem, dePartu V irginis, 227. Saracen’sHeadInn,Aldersgate street, 80. Saunders, Richard, carves the giants in Guildhall, 267. Satan and the Soul, 285. Sepulchie, making of itin the church at Easter. 77. 221. described, 222. Serpent’s knee, 95. Shakspeare mentions psalms sung to song tunes, 94. and mysteries performed by puppets, 230. Ship of extraordinary size, a pageant in the Lord Mayor’s Show, 258. S hooter ’sHill, aMay game there 223. Singer, Mr. S. W. 183, 185. SkinnePsCompany, their remarkable pageant on Lord Mayor’s Day,26l. Well, Clerkenwell, grand performance of mysteries there, 206. present appearance of its site, and inscription on its pump, 207. Slatyer, William, his psalms for Christmas carols, set to song tunes, 94. Sloane, Sir Hans, lends Bayle the mystery of the Acts of the Apostles, 176. Smythe, William, his description in 1575 of the Lord Mayor’s Show, 246. INDEX. 209 Solemn mock processions to burn the Pope at Temple Bar described, 242. 245. Southey, Mr. his mention of carols, 100. his poetical version of the legend of Bishop Hatto, 233. Speculum Vitae Christi, a M.S. 73. Spence. Rev. Joseph, his account of the mystery of the Damned Soul at Turin, 183. Stage whereon mysteries were per- formed, described, 717- Steevens on aroint , 139. Stilts worn by Giants in the Lord Mayor’s pageants, 268. and in a morris dance, 269. Strasburg, representation at the theatre there of religious subjects, from pictures by great masters, 190. mysteries performed at the Jesuits’ seminary there, 191. Strood, in Kent, natives born with tails, 280. Susanna and the Elders, a mystery, acted lately at Paris, 189. T. Theophylact, patriarch of Constanti- nople, exhibits the Feast of Fools and other farces in the Greek Church, 157. Three Dons, a mystery, acted at Ro- mans, 173. Three Kings of Cologne, a mystery, acted at Newcastle, 214. Torments of the damned, represented at Paris, 170. and at Florence, 281. Trial of Mary and Joseph, a Coventry mystery described, 59. Trinity, the, in Council, 38, 73. Dead knell in honour of, 77- Trinity of St.Botolph without Alders- gate, account of the Brethren of, 77. Personifications of, 78 81, 85, revealed to St. Ignatius, 282. V. Valentine and Orson in a London pa- geant, 238. Vengeance, de N. S. J. C. a mystery, *^ted before Charles VIII. 171. Veximiel, grand mystery performed there, 172. Visit of M ary to Elizabeth, aCoventry mystery, described, 53. Voice of God, a mystery acted lately at Vienna, 188. U. Uliespiegel, or the German Rogue, 225. See Howleglas. W. Ward, Ned, visits the Giants in Guildhall, 263. and Westminster Hall, 266. Wedding Ring of Mary and Joseph, its miracles, &c. 117. Welsh Carols, 103. Wa sail Song for St Mary’s Eve, 104. Westminster Latin Plays, 205. Religious Plays in the palace, 215. Hall, Shops within it formerly, 268. Weston, Sir William, Prior of St. John of Jerusalem, 209. Whifflers, 247. W r hore of Babylon, a comedy by Ed- ward VI. 225. Wickerwork used to construct the Old London Giants, 266. and other figures intheLondon pageants, 267. William III. in 1821, his statue in St. James’s Square dressed, 245. The last procession round his statue at Dublin, ibid. Winchester, Descent into Hell per- formed there, 215. Wintherus, a German, steals the Vir- gin’s Wedding Ring fromClusium, 118; it works miracles, he presents it to the City of Perusia, and is greatly honoured at his death, 119. Witney, in Oxfordshire, Puppet-show of the Resurrection there, 225. Y. York mysteries, 209. manner of their performance, 210, 213. , pageants there, 236. Z. Zug, in Switzerland, in 1787, a Boy Bishop there, 1 99. ' ■ . . ■ ■ - - . f <&*&> Rc>f( ^ Max and Lore Zeller Library C.G. Jung Institute 10349 West Pico Boulevard Los Angeles, CA 90064 (/rJJ/Jjf// /•#*»///* Jit mmmM mmmm Wmsmm Wmm W/fmf /,. ' W!l m&m /////L M*, WfrM0&ft Affirm /fmifff! MI , ^^-^u//p/ r ' • • WA'P«&'Ww ' :: ^ i Jmm o . imM^K/im, Wmi 5VPI mm . i