English Villages Part 18

Then came the diversions of Hocktide, on the second Monday and Tuesday after Easter, when the men and women intercepted the public on alternate days with ropes, and boldly exacted money for pious purposes. There was a Hocktide play, which was acted before Queen Elizabeth, and caused her much amus.e.m.e.nt. She gave the players two bucks and five marks of money, which delighted them exceedingly.

Very shortly afterwards the great rural festival of our forefathers took place, the glad May Day, when, in the early dawn, the lads and la.s.sies left their towns and villages, and going into the woods to the sound of music, gathered the may or blossomed branches of the tree, and bound them with wreaths of flowers. At sunrise they returned, and decorated the lattices and doors with the sweet-smelling spoil of their joyous journey, and spent the rest of the day in sports and pastimes, and dancing round the Maypole. The setting-up of the May-pole was a very joyous ceremony. A long string of oxen, gaily decked with flowers, drew to the village green the time-honoured pole, decked with streamers, flowers, and flags, where it was raised amidst laughter and shouts; and the Queen of the May was enthroned in an arbour and all danced round; and the morris-dancers, Robin Hood, Friar Tuck, and Maid Marian performed wonderful antics as they led the revels. Targets were set up at the other end of the green, and archery formed an important part of the day's pleasures. The preachers at the time of the Reformation thought the people made an idol of the Maypole, and condemned the innocent amus.e.m.e.nts, which were revived again when Charles II. came to the throne. After May Day our villagers had not long to wait until the Whitsuntide holiday came round--

"A day of jubilee, An ancient holiday; When, lo! the rural revels are begun, And gaily echoing to the laughing sky, On the smooth-shaven green, Resounds the voice of mirth."

I have already given a description of these Whitsuntide rejoicings in a preceding chapter.

Then there were the miracle plays, or "mysteries," as they were called, in June, on Corpus Christi Day, which were performed before the Reformation, princ.i.p.ally in the neighbourhood of large monasteries; Coventry, Chester, London, York being specially renowned for these performances. The subjects were taken from Holy Scripture, or from the lives of saints, and were intended to teach the people religious knowledge, but the scenes were disfigured by many absurdities and grotesque perversions. Their history is a curious one, too long to enter upon in this chapter; but often in the open fields, at the bottom of natural amphitheatres, were these plays performed, very similar in construction to the famous pa.s.sion play performed by the peasants, at Ober Ammergau, in Bavaria, the last surviving specimen of the ancient religious drama.

Then there were the bonfires to be lighted on St. John's Day upon the hillsides, and the dance of the young people around them, the more venturesome youths leaping through the flames, all carrying home the firebrands and forming a glad procession. Afterwards followed the busy harvest-time, when everyone was too hard at work, and too tired at the end of the day's labours, to think of holiday-making; but at length came the harvest home, when the last sheaf was gathered in, and the harvest supper was a very joyous occasion. With light hearts, smiling faces, and cheerful shouts, the harvest labourers and their wives and children, carrying green boughs, a sheaf of wheat, and rude flags, formed a glad procession to the farmer's house, where they found the fuelled chimney blazing wide, and "the strong table groaning beneath the smoking sirloin." The feast over, they retired to some near hillock, and made the welkin ring with their shouts, "Holla, holla, holla, largess!"--largess being the presents of money and good things which the farmer had bestowed. Such was the harvest home in the good old days, a joy and delight to both old and young. Shorn of much of its merriment and quaint customs, it still lingers on; but modern habits and notions have deprived it of much of its old spirit and light-heartedness.

The floors of the old churches were formerly unpaved and unbearded, simply made of clay, and were covered over with rushes. Once a year there was a great ceremony, called "rush-bearing." Rushes were cut in the neighbouring marsh, and made up into long bundles, decked with ribands and flowers. Then a procession was formed, everyone bearing a bundle of rushes, or placing them in the rush-cart beautifully adorned; and with music, drums, and ringing of bells, they marched to the church and strewed the floor with their honoured burdens. Long after the rushes ceased to be used in church the ceremony was continued, and I have myself witnessed a rush-bearing procession such as I have described. A village feast, followed by dancing round the May-pole, generally formed the conclusion to the day's festivities.

"Beating the bounds" of the parish was another annual ceremony, which often took place on Ascension Day and is still in use at Oxford.

Boundaries of property were not so clearly defined in those days as they are now; and hedgerows, walls, and railings were scarce. The bounds of the parish were often marked by trees, called "gospel trees,"

because the clergyman used to read the gospel for the day under their shade. The people carried a processional cross and willow wands, and boys were generally flogged at the boundaries, or ducked in the river, if that const.i.tuted a boundary, in order to impress upon their memories where the bounds were. The village feast afterwards made some amends to them for their harsh treatment.

The village sports were a great source of enjoyment, and were frequently indulged in. The time-honoured archery developed the skill of our English bowmen, and won for them many a battle before the days of gunpowder and cannons. Then there was the very ancient game of the quintain, which consisted of an upright post with a cross-post turning upon a pin. At one end of the latter was a broad board, at the other a heavy sand-bag. The play, which required skill and dexterity, was to ride against the broad end with a lance, and pa.s.s by before the sandbag, swinging round, could strike the player to the ground. This was a common sport at wedding festivities. There were also the games of singlestick, cudgelling, and wrestling, which had many votaries, and the famous game of quarter-staff, so general in Berks.h.i.+re, and so graphically described in _The Scouring of the White Horse_, by Mr. Hughes. An old paris.h.i.+oner of mine was the reputed champion of this game, which has now almost died out. Football is an ancient sport, and the manner formerly in vogue most nearly resembles the game authorised by the Rugby rules. The football was thrown down in the churchyard, and the object was to carry it perhaps two or three miles, every inch of ground being keenly contested.

"Touch-downs" were then unknown, but it is evident from old records that "scrimmages" and "hacking" were much in vogue. Sack-racing, grinning through horse-collars, running after pigs with greased tails, were some of the lighter forms of amus.e.m.e.nt which pleased the villagers.

Then in the winter evenings there were "carols" to be practised for Christmas, and each village boasted of its own musicians, who played violins, flutes, clarionets, and other instruments in church, before the days of harmoniums and organs. Their music might not be of a very first-rate order, but they delighted in it, took an interest in it; and how pleased they were to take part in the service, and to play over their favourite hymn tunes, with a great many twirls and variations, to their children during the winter evenings! Christmas brought its accustomed merry-makings. In the north every farmer gave two feasts, one called "t' ould foaks' neet," and the other "t' young foaks' neet."

Here is Sir Walter Scott's description of an ancient Christmas:--

"And well our Christian sires of old Loved when the year its course had roll'd And brought blithe Christmas back again, With all its hospitable train.

Domestic and religious rite Gave honour to the holy night: On Christmas Eve the bells were rung; On Christmas Eve the Ma.s.s was sung; That only night in all the year Saw the staled priest the chalice rear.

The damsel donn'd her kirtle sheen; The hall was dressed with holly green; Forth to the wood did merry men go, To gather in the mistletoe.

Then open wide the baron's hall, To va.s.sal, tenant, serf, and all; Power laid his rod of rule aside, And Ceremony doft'd his pride.

The heir with roses in his shoes, That night might village partner choose; The lord, underogating, share The vulgar game of 'post and pair.'

All hailed with uncontrolled delight The general voice, the happy night, That to the cottage, as the crown, Brought tidings of salvation down.

"The fire, with well-dried logs supplied, Went roaring up the chimney wide; The huge hall-table's oaken face Scrubb'd till it shone, the day of grace, Bore then upon its ma.s.sive board No mark to part the squire and lord.

Then was brought in the l.u.s.ty brawn, By old blue-coated serving man; Then the grim boar's head frowned on high Crested with bays and rosemary.

Well can the green-garb'd ranger tell How, when, and where the monster fell; What dogs before his death he tore, And all the baiting of the boar; While round the merry wa.s.sail bowl, Garnished with ribbons, blithe did trowl.

Then the huge sirloin reek'd: hard by Plum-porridge stood, and Christmas pie; Nor fail'd old Scotland to produce At such high time her savoury goose.

Then came the merry maskers in, And carols roared with blithesome din; If unmelodious was the song, It was a hearty note, and strong.

Who lists may in this mumming see Traces of ancient mystery; White s.h.i.+rts supply the masquerade, And s.m.u.tted cheeks the visor made; But, oh! what masquers, richly dight, Can boast of bosoms half so light!

England was merry England when Old Christmas brought his sports again.

'Twas Christmas broach'd the mightiest ale; 'Twas Christmas told the merriest tale.

A Christmas gambol oft would cheer A poor man's heart through half the year."

Such was the manner of keeping Christmas in olden times; and if "the mightiest ale" was sometimes too mighty, and although the intemperance of our forefathers was a vice much to be deplored, at any rate their hearty manner of keeping this annual feast was effectual in promoting "goodwill amongst men," and in cheering the hearts of the poor.

In this chapter I have attempted to show the varied amus.e.m.e.nts and recreations in which our village ancestors took part. On the old village green, which in too many of our villages has been inclosed and become a thing of the past, many of these sports and pastimes once took place.

There stood the village stocks, in which the refractory paid the penalty of their misdeeds; and sometimes, too, a pillory was added, which held fast the head, arms, and legs of the culprit, while the villagers, rude vindicators of the law, threw stones, rotten eggs, and other missiles at the unhappy victim. At the edge of the pond you might have seen a long plank which turned on a swivel, with a chair at the end overhanging the water. This was called a "cucking-stool," and was used to duck scolds or brawlers. The culprit was placed in the chair, and the other end of the plank was raised several times, so that the ardour of the culprit was effectually cooled by frequent immersions. These were rough methods of administering justice, but often very effectual in checking vice.

The social customs which formerly existed in each village, the sports and pastimes a.s.sociated with the village green, the May Day festivals, and the Christmas carollings were of great value, inasmuch as they tended to infuse some poetical feeling into the minds of the people, softened the rudeness of rustic manners, and gave the villagers simple pleasures which lightened their labours. They prevented them from growing hard, grasping, and discontented with their lot. They promoted good feeling between the farmers and their labourers. The customs of the town were a poor exchange for the ancient country manners and amus.e.m.e.nts; and it was a sad day for our country when the villagers lost their simplicity and the power of appreciating the primitive pleasures of rural England.

[Ill.u.s.tration: OLD STOCKS AND WHIPPING POST]

CHAPTER XXII

THE VILLAGE INN

Monastic inns--Village inns--Highwaymen--Inn signs--Famous inns-- Man-traps.

In almost every village in England there is an inn. Before the Reformation there were very few of these hostelries, as travellers were always accommodated at the monasteries, each of which, as we have seen, had a hospitium, or guest-house, where their wants were attended to by special officers appointed for the purpose, and where they could remain for several days. But the destruction of the monasteries produced many changes in the condition of the country; it introduced the necessity of a poor law, for the poor were always relieved by the monasteries; it required the erection of schools and places for education, as all the education of the country had been carried on in these monastic buildings; and when the old guesthouses ceased to exist, travellers, merchants, and pedlars required some place in which to lodge when they moved about the country, and inns became plentiful as time went on. Hence in almost every village in England there is an inn, which is generally a landmark; and if you wish to direct a stranger to some place where he desires to go, you doubtless tell him to turn to the right by "The Bull," or to keep straight on until he comes to "The Magpie." Indeed, a friend of mine, who is a strong teetotaler, a.s.serts that the only good use inns have is to help people to find their road. But old inns have a great history. In former days they used to be meeting-places of plotters and conspirators. All the distinguished people in the country used to pa.s.s through the villages and towns on the great roads through the country, and when the horses were being changed they used to partake of the good fare which the landlord provided. Those were busy times for the old inns, when there was stabling for fifty or sixty horses, and the coaches used to rattle through the village to the inn door long before the iron horses began to drag their freight of pa.s.sengers along the iron roads, and the scream of the engines took the place of the cheerful notes of the posthorn.

Sometimes a gentleman would ride to an inn door on a beautiful, fleet-looking steed, and receive a hearty welcome from the landlord; but the pistols in his belt looked ominous, and presently some soldiers would steal noiselessly into the inn where the gentleman was refres.h.i.+ng himself, and there would be heard the sounds of vigorous fighting; and often, in some wonderful way, Claude Duval or the noted d.i.c.k would fight his way out, whistle to his steed, jump into the saddle, and ride away before his less nimble pursuers had recovered from their astonishment. Very many exciting scenes have taken place in our old inns, but in these days railways have changed all things; and in many streets where the coaches used to rattle along, and the place was alive with merry sounds, the moss now grows, and all is silence and desolation. We should certainly think it inconvenient to take three days to travel from London to Bath, and it would not be pleasant to have a visit from d.i.c.k Turpin on the way, and to have all one's valuables appropriated by that notorious highwayman; but in these days of worry and busy bustling it would be refres.h.i.+ng to catch a glimpse of those quiet times when people were not so much in a hurry, and to hear the sound of the posthorn once more instead of the whistle of the steam-engine.

The quaint-looking pictures and curious names which attract our notice as we pa.s.s an inn door have some queer stories to tell. We notice a very curious collection of animals sometimes, and a strange a.s.sortment of things; and the reason why our ancestors put some of these curious things together is somewhat difficult for us to find out. In olden days, other houses of tradesmen besides inns had signs. Grocers, tailors, candlestick-makers, all had signs; but most of these have disappeared, except one belonging to a certain sweep of my acquaintance, whose house is adorned with the figure of a man coming out of a globe, with the motto, "Help me through the world." Over their doors barbers still have their poles, which represented once the fact that the barber was prepared to bandage up wounded arms and legs, and to perform the office of blood-letting; the stripes on the pole were intended to represent the bandages, and the barber was the surgeon of the town. We do not seem to have so much blood to spare as our forefathers, as the barber always bled his customers once or twice a year, especially in the springtime, the operation being considered very beneficial.

One reason for the curious mixture of animals and other things which we see on signboards is that an apprentice, when he had finished his time and begun to set up for himself, adopted some sign, and then joined with it the sign of his old master. This will account for such curiosities as "The Lamb and Dolphin," "The Goose and Gridiron," "The Fox and Seven Stars," combinations of things for which it would otherwise be difficult to account. Another reason is that signs were taken from the armorial bearings, or crests, of some popular character, or of some great family in the neighbourhood. For example, I may mention "The Bear with the Ragged Staff," which was the crest of Richard Nevil, Earl of Warwick, commonly called "The Kingmaker," who was slain in the battle of Barnet, 1471 A.D. "The Blue Boar" was one of the badges of the House of York.

"The Bull" is a very common sign, because it was a very common crest, and we have them in all colours--black, red, white; lions also rage in blue, white, and red attire. Sometimes we meet with "The Cross Keys,"

the keeper of which was probably an old servant or tenant of an abbey or monastery, and chose his sign from that of the monastery with which he was connected. Frequently, in olden times, a cross was erected at the meeting of two or three roads, or where the pilgrims to Canterbury used to pa.s.s; afterwards an inn was built near it, and was, in many cases, called the Cross Inn.

One very common cause of curious signs is the way in which the original word has been corrupted by ignorant people frequently repeating words which they did not understand, and thus changing their whole meaning.

You may have seen an inn described as "The Swan with Two Necks"--a very rare bird indeed. But it was never intended to disfigure the bird by giving it two necks; the original sign was "The Swan with Two _Nicks_"

and nicks were the marks which were cut on a swan's bill to distinguish it from other swans, so that it might be known to whom the bird belonged. But _nicks_ became _necks_ in course of conversation, until at last a fabulous creature with two beautifully curved necks appeared on the signboard. This same cause will account for the two strange signs, "Bull and Gate" and "Bull and Mouth." The original signs were "Boulogne Gate" and "Boulogne Mouth," _i.e._ the gate and harbour of the town of Boulogne, in France, which was captured by the English under King Henry VIII. in the year 1544. The English were very pleased to hear of the defeat of the French, and of the taking of that important town, and several inns were named in honour of the event; but the French "Boulogne" was too much for our good English mouths to speak, so it became "Bull and."

Another name which puzzled our forefathers was "_La Belle Sauvage_"

("the Beautiful Savage"), which was named after a noted savage beauty who was the rage at Paris. Others a.s.sert that the name of the landlady was Isabella Savage, shortened into Bella Savage. However, in course of time the name was altered into "Bell and Savage," and a picture representing this odd combination stood over the door. In the same way the original sign, "Whip and Nag," between which there is often a very close connection, became "Whip and Egg"; and the reason why these two articles should be placed together is not so evident. So also there does not seem any reason for an inn to be called "Bag o' Nails"; but when we are told that the original word was "Baccha.n.a.ls," _i.e._ followers of Bacchus, the old G.o.d of wine, we can understand how the corruption, "Bag o' Nails," arose. Before the days of licensing, when everyone could sell liquor who chose without obtaining any licence from the magistrates, it was the custom to put a bush over the doorway, in order to inform the pa.s.sers-by that liquor could be purchased there. This is the origin of the saying, "Good wine needs no bush."

[Ill.u.s.tration: VILLAGE INN WITH OLD t.i.tHE BARN OF READING ABBEY]

"The Catherine Wheel" tells us the sad story of St. Catherine, who was born at Alexandria, and for converting fifty heathen philosophers to Christianity was sentenced by the Emperor Maxentius to death on a wheel, devised by most ingenious cruelty, armed with knives, saws, and nails.

It is recorded that she was rescued from this fate, but was afterwards beheaded (305 A.D.). It is curious that this instrument of torture and the story of St. Catherine's heroism should be recorded on a signboard.

But it may have been brought before the public by a certain miracle play, founded on the life of St. Catherine, which used to be performed on festival days. However, the Catherine wheel appears frequently on the coats-of-arms of several families, and it may be that the sign was taken from these.

"The George," also, is a very popular sign; and the "St. George of merry England" is the patron saint of this country, and the battle-cry of her knights and yeomen of ancient days. Who does not remember that stirring scene on St. George's Mount during the Crusades, described in Sir Walter Scott's _Talisman_, when King Richard tore down the Austrian banner, which the Austrian monarch had dared to erect beside the Royal Standard of England? St George is generally represented as slaying a dragon. He was a soldier who served gallantly under the Emperor Diocletian, and commanded a legion of soldiers; he was a Christian, and by the dragon whom he slew is meant the devil, red with the blood of the Christians. So popular a personage as St. George, whose name inspired our ancestors with courage, and was often borne by them into the heart of the foe, would soon be recorded in paintings and become a general sign. "The Goat" is a common sign, and is taken from the crest of the Duke of Bedford; but "The Goat and Compa.s.ses" has puzzled many people as to its origin. It appears to be a corruption of a pious expression, "G.o.d encompa.s.seth us"; and this shows how strangely words may be twisted and converted by ignorant and careless usage.

There are some very noted inns where great events have taken place, amongst which I may mention the Bull Inn at Coventry. Here Henry VII.

was entertained the night before the battle of Bosworth Field, when he won for himself the English crown. Here Mary Queen of Scots was detained by order of Elizabeth. Here the conspirators of the Gunpowder Plot met to devise their scheme for blowing up the Houses of Parliament. And when the citizens refused to open their gates to Charles I. and his soldiers, no doubt there were great disputings amongst the frequenters of "The Bull" as to what would be the result of their disloyal refusal.

Some of the inns in remote country places did not enjoy a very enviable reputation, and were little better than man-traps, where the unfortunate traveller was robbed and murdered. At Blewbury, in Berks.h.i.+re, there was an inn, the landlord of which was suspected of murdering his guests with great secrecy and mystery, and no one could tell what he did with the bodies of the victims he was supposed to have murdered. A few years ago an old tree in the neighbourhood of the inn was blown down, and on digging up the roots a skeleton was found among them. People wondered how it could have been placed there, but at last a very old inhabitant told the story of the mysterious disappearance of the bodies of the late landlord's guests, and the mystery was at length accounted for. Whenever he slew a man he planted a tree, placing the body of the murdered victim beneath it. The constables never thought of looking there; and probably under every tree which he planted (and there were several), when their roots are dug up, the bones of his numerous victims will be discovered.

Another story is connected with the old "Hind's Head" at Bracknell, which was another of these mantraps, where many travellers slept to rise no more. One winter's night a stout-hearted farmer stayed there, and joined several jovial companions round the kitchen fire. They ate and drank merrily, and at last the serving-maid showed the traveller to his chamber. She told him that he was surrounded by robbers and murderers, showed him a trap-door at the side of the bed, on which if he stepped he would tumble headlong into a deep well. She directed him to tie the bed into a bundle, put it on the trap-door, and escape by the window. He did so; down went the bundle, instead of the farmer, into the well, and he managed to effect his escape. Rousing the neighbourhood he captured the villains, who were all executed, and the bones of many of their victims were found in the well. Happily such inns were rare.

To describe the conditions of the old inns for which England was famous, of the good fare which awaited the travellers by the coach, of the s.p.a.cious corridors, of the comfortable beds hung with silk and smelling of lavender; to tell of all the great folk who entered their doors--kings, queens, poets, generals, highwaymen, statesmen, grooms, conspirators, coachmen--all this would require much s.p.a.ce to relate.

When railways came in, their ancient glory departed; the old stables are destroyed; gra.s.s grows in the courtyard; and the object of their existence has almost ceased to be.

CHAPTER XXIII