Folk-lore of Shakespeare

May Day. The festival of May day has, from the earliest times, been most popular in this country, on account of its association with the joyous season of spring. It was formerly celebrated with far greater enthusiasm than nowadays, for Bourne tells us how the young people were in the habit of rising a little after midnight and walking to some neighboring wood, accompanied with music and the blowing of horns, where they broke down branches from the trees, which, decorated with nosegays and garlands of flowers, were brought home soon after sunrise, and placed at their doors and windows. Shakespeare, alluding to this practice, informs us how eagerly it was looked forward to, and that it was impossible to make the people sleep on May morning. Thus, in “Henry VIII.” (v. 4), it is said:

“Pray, sir, be patient: ’tis as much impossible —Unless we sweep ’em from the door with cannons —To scatter ’em, as ’tis to make ’em sleepOn May-day morning.”

Again, in “A Midsummer-Night’s Dream” (i. 1), Lysander, speaking of these May-day observances, says to Hermia:

“If thou lov’st me, then,Steal forth thy father’s house to-morrow night;And in the wood, a league without the town,Where I did meet thee once with Helena,To do observance to a morn of May,There will I stay for thee.”

And Theseus says (iv. 1):

“No doubt they rose up early to observeThe rite of May.”655

In the “Two Noble Kinsmen” (ii. 3), one of the four countrymen asks: “Do we all hold against the Maying?”

In Chaucer’s “Court of Love” we read that early on May day “Fourth goth al the Court, both most and lest, to fetche the flowris fresh and blome.” In the reign of Henry VIII. it is on record that the heads of the corporation of London went out into the high grounds of Kent to gather the May, and were met on Shooter’s Hill by the king and his queen, Katherine of Arragon, as they were coming from the palace of Greenwich. Until within a comparatively recent period, this custom still lingered in some of the counties. Thus, at Newcastle-upon-Tyne, the following doggerel was sung:

“Rise up, maidens, fie for shame!For I’ve been four long miles from hame,I’ve been gathering my garlands gay,Rise up, fair maidens, and take in your May.”

Many of the ballads sung nowadays, in country places, by the village children, on May morning, as they carry their garlands from door to door, undoubtedly refer to the old practice of going a-Maying, although fallen into disuse.

In olden times nearly every village had its May-pole, around which, decorated with wreaths of flowers, ribbons, and flags, our merry ancestors danced from morning till night. The earliest representation of an English May-pole is that published in the “Variorum Shakespeare,” and depicted on a window at Betley, in Staffordshire, then the property of Mr. Tollet, and which he was disposed to think as old as the time of Henry VIII. The pole is planted in a mound of earth, and has affixed to it St. George’s red-cross banner and a white pennon or streamer with a forked end. The shaft of the pole is painted in a diagonal line of black colors upon a yellow ground, a characteristic decoration of all these ancient May-poles, as alluded to by Shakespeare in “A Midsummer-Night’s Dream” (iii. 2), where it gives point to Hermia’s allusion to her rival Helena as “a painted May-pole.”656 The popularity of the May-pole in former centuries is shown by the fact that one of our London parishes, St. Andrew Undershaft, derives its name from the May-pole which overhung its steeple, a reference to which we find made by Geoffrey Chaucer, who, speaking of a vain boaster, says:

“Right well aloft, and high ye bear your head,As ye would bear the great shaft of Cornhill.”

London, indeed, had several May-poles, one of which stood in Basing Lane, near St. Paul’s Cathedral. It was a large fir pole, forty feet high and fifteen inches in diameter, and fabled to be the justing staff of Gerard the Giant. Only a few, however, of the old May-poles remain scattered here and there throughout the country. One still supports a weathercock in the churchyard at Pendleton, Manchester; and in Derbyshire, a few years ago, several were to be seen standing on some of the village greens. The rhymes made use of as the people danced round the May-pole varied according to the locality, and oftentimes combined a curious mixture of the jocose and sacred.

Another feature of the May-day festivities was the morris-dance, the principal characters of which generally were Robin Hood, Maid Marian, Scarlet, Stokesley, Little John, the Hobby-horse, the Bavian or Fool, Tom the Piper, with his pipe and tabor. The number of characters varied much at different times and places. In “All’s Well that Ends Well” (ii. 2), the clown says: “As fit as ten groats is for the hand of an attorney … a morris for May-day.”657

In “2 Henry VI.” (iii. 1) the Duke of York says of Cade:

“I have seenHim caper upright, like a wild Morisco,Shaking the bloody darts, as he his bells.”

In the “Two Noble Kinsmen” (iii. 5) Gerrold, the schoolmaster, thus describes to King Theseus the morris-dance:

“If you but favour, our country pastime made is.We are a few of those collected here,That ruder tongues distinguish villagers;And, to say verity and not to fable,We are a merry rout, or else a rable,Or company, or, by a figure, choris,That ’fore thy dignity will dance a morris.And I, that am the rectifier of all,By title Pædagogus, that let fallThe birch upon the breeches of the small ones,And humble with a ferula the tall ones,Do here present this machine, or this frame:And, dainty duke, whose doughty dismal fame,From Dis to Dædalus, from post to pillar,Is blown abroad, help me, thy poor well willer,And, with thy twinkling eyes, look right and straightUpon this mighty morr– of mickle weight —Is– now comes in, which being glu’d togetherMakes morris, and the cause that we came hether,The body of our sport, of no small study.I first appear, though rude, and raw, and muddy,To speak, before thy noble grace, this tenner;At whose great feet I offer up my penner:The next, the Lord of May and Lady bright,The chambermaid and serving-man, by nightThat seek out silent hanging: then mine hostAnd his fat spouse, that welcomes to their costThe galled traveller, and with a beck’ning,Inform the tapster to inflame the reck’ning:Then the beast-eating clown, and next the fool,The bavian, with long tail and eke long tool;Cum multis aliis that make a dance:Say ‘Ay,’ and all shall presently advance.”

Among the scattered allusions to the characters of this dance may be noticed that in “1 Henry IV.” (iii. 3): “and for womanhood, Maid Marian may be the deputy’s wife of the ward to thee” – the allusion being to “the degraded Maid Marian of the later morris-dance, more male than female.”658

The “hobby-horse,” another personage of the morris-dance on May day, was occasionally omitted, and appears to have given rise to a popular ballad, a line of which is given by “Hamlet” (iii. 2):

“For, O, for, O, the hobby-horse is forgot.”

This is quoted again in “Love’s Labour’s Lost” (iii. 1). The hobby-horse was formed by a pasteboard horse’s head, and a light frame made of wicker-work to join the hinder parts. This was fastened round the body of a man, and covered with a foot-cloth which nearly reached the ground, and concealed the legs of the performer, who displayed his antic equestrian skill, and performed various juggling tricks, to the amusement of the bystanders. In Sir Walter Scott’s “Monastery” there is a spirited description of the hobby-horse.

The term “hobby-horse” was applied to a loose woman, and in the “Winter’s Tale” (i. 2) it is so used by Leontes, who says to Camillo:

“Then sayMy wife’s a hobby-horse; deserves a nameAs rank as any flax-wench, that puts toBefore her troth-plight.”

In “Othello” (iv. 1), Bianca, speaking of Desdemona’s handkerchief, says to Cassio: “This is some minx’s token, and I must take out the work! There, give it your hobby-horse.” It seems also to have denoted a silly fellow, as in “Much Ado About Nothing” (iii. 2), where it is so used by Benedick.

Another character was Friar Tuck, the chaplain of Robin Hood, and as such is noticed in the “Two Gentlemen of Verona” (iv. 1), where one of the outlaws swears:

“By the bare scalp of Robin Hood’s fat friar.”

He is also represented by Tollet as a Franciscan friar in the full clerical tonsure, for, as he adds, “When the parish priests were inhibited by the diocesan to assist in the May games, the Franciscans might give attendance, as being exempted from episcopal jurisdiction.”659

It was no uncommon occurrence for metrical interludes of a comic species, and founded on the achievements of the outlaw Robin Hood, to be performed after the morris, on the May-pole green. Mr. Drake thinks that these interludes are alluded to in “Twelfth Night” (iii. 4), where Fabian exclaims, on the approach of Sir Andrew Aguecheek with his challenge, “More matter for a May morning.”

Whitsuntide. Apart from its observance as a religious festival, Whitsuntide was, in times past, celebrated with much ceremony. In the Catholic times of England it was usual to dramatize the descent of the Holy Ghost, which this festival commemorates – a custom which we find alluded to in Barnaby Googe’s translation of Naogeorgus:

“On Whit-Sunday white pigeons tame in strings from heaven flie,And one that framed is of wood still hangeth in the skie,Thou seest how they with idols play, and teach the people too:None otherwise than little girls with puppets used to do.”

This custom appears to have been carried to an extravagant height in Spain, for Mr. Fosbroke660 tells us that the gift of the Holy Ghost was represented by “thunder from engines which did much damage.” Water, oak leaves, burning torches, wafers, and cakes were thrown down from the church roof; pigeons and small birds, with cakes tied to their legs, were let loose; and a long censer was swung up and down. In our own country, many costly pageants were exhibited at this season. Thus, at Chester, the Whitsun Mysteries were acted during the Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday in Whitsun week. The performers were carried from one place to another by means of a scaffold – a huge and ponderous machine mounted on wheels, gayly decorated with flags, and divided into two compartments – the upper of which formed the stage, and the lower, defended from vulgar curiosity by coarse canvas draperies, answered the purposes of a green-room. To each craft in the city a separate mystery was allotted. Thus, the drapers exhibited the “Creation,” the tanners took the “Fall of Lucifer,” the water-carriers of the Dee acted the “Deluge,” etc. The production, too, of these pageants was extremely costly; indeed, each one has been set down at fifteen or twenty pounds sterling. An allusion to this custom is made in the “Two Gentlemen of Verona” (iv. 4), where Julia says:

“At Pentecost,When all our pageants of delight were play’d,Our youth got me to play the woman’s part,And I was trimm’d in Madam Julia’s gown.”

The morris-dance, too, was formerly a common accompaniment to the Whitsun ales, a practice which is still kept up in many parts of the country. In “Henry V.” (ii. 4), the Dauphin thus alludes to it:

“I say, ’tis meet we all go forth,To view the sick and feeble parts of France:And let us do it with no show of fear;No, with no more than if we heard that EnglandWere busied with a Whitsun morris-dance.”

And once more, in the “Winter’s Tale” (iv. 4), Perdita says to Florizel:

“Methinks I play as I have seen them doIn Whitsun pastorals.”

A custom formerly kept up in connection with Whitsuntide was the “Whitsun ale.” Ale was so prevalent a drink among us in olden times as to become a part of the name of various festal meetings, as Leet ale, Lamb ale, Bride ale (bridal), and, as we see, Whitsun ale. Thus our ancestors were in the habit of holding parochial meetings every Whitsuntide, usually in some barn near the church, consisting of a kind of picnic, as each parishioner brought what victuals he could spare. The ale, which had been brewed pretty strong for the occasion, was sold by the churchwardens, and from its profits a fund arose for the repair of the church.661 These meetings are referred to by Shakespeare in “Pericles” (i. 1):

“It hath been sung at festivals,On ember-eves and holy-ales.”

In the “Two Gentlemen of Verona” (ii. 5), when Launce tells Speed, “thou hast not so much charity in thee as to go to the ale with a Christian,” these words have been explained to mean the rural festival so named, though, as Mr. Dyce remarks (“Glossary,” p. 10), the previous words of Launce, “go with me to the ale-house,” show this explanation to be wrong.

In the old miracle-plays performed at this and other seasons Herod was a favorite personage, and was generally represented as a tyrant of a very overbearing, violent character. Thus Hamlet says (iii. 2): “O, it offends me to the soul, to hear a robustious periwig-pated fellow tear a passion to tatters, to very rags, to split the ears of the groundlings; who, for the most part, are capable of nothing but inexplicable dumb-shows and noise: I would have such a fellow whipped for o’er-doing Termagant; it out-herods Herod.” On this account Alexas mentions him as the most daring character when he tells Cleopatra (“Antony and Cleopatra,” iii. 3):

“Good majesty,Herod of Jewry dare not look upon youBut when you are well pleas’d.”

In the “Merry Wives of Windsor” (ii. 1), Mrs. Page speaks of him in the same signification: “What a Herod of Jewry is this!”

Mr. Dyce, in his “Glossary” (p. 207), has this note: “If the reader wishes to know what a swaggering, uproarious tyrant Herod was represented to be in those old dramatic performances, let him turn to ‘Magnus Herodes’ in ‘The Towneley Mysteries,’ p. 140, ed. Surtees Society; to ‘King Herod’ in the ‘Coventry Mysteries,’ p. 188, ed. Shakespeare Society; and to ‘The Slaughter of the Innocents’ in ‘The Chester Plays,’ vol. i. p. 172, ed. Shakespeare Society.”

Like Herod, Termagant662 was a hectoring tyrant of the miracle-plays, and as such is mentioned by Hamlet in the passage quoted above. Hence, in course of time, the word was used as an adjective, in the sense of violent, as in “1 Henry IV.” (v. 4), “that hot termagant Scot.” Hall mentions him in his first satire:

“Nor fright the reader with the Pagan vauntOf mighty Mahound and great Termagaunt.”

While speaking of the old mysteries or miracle-plays we may also here refer to the “moralities,” a class of religious plays in which allegorical personifications of the virtues and vices were introduced as dramatis personæ. These personages at first only took part in the play along with the Scriptural or legendary characters, but afterwards entirely superseded them. They continued in fashion till the time of Queen Elizabeth. Several allusions are given by Shakespeare to these moral plays. Thus, in “Twelfth Night” (iv. 1), the clown sings:

“I am gone, sir,And anon, sir,I’ll be with you againIn a trice,Like to the old Vice,Your need to sustain;Who, with dagger of lath,In his rage and his wrath,Cries, Ah, ha! to the devil,” etc.

Again, in “1 Henry IV.” (ii. 4), Prince Henry speaks of “that reverend Vice, that grey Iniquity;” and in “2 Henry IV.” (iii. 2), Falstaff says, “now is this Vice’s dagger become a squire.”

Again, further allusions occur in “Richard III.” (iii. 1). Gloster says:

“Thus, like the formal Vice, Iniquity,I moralize two meanings in one word.”

And once more, Hamlet (iii. 4), speaks of “a Vice of kings,” “a king of shreds and patches.”

According to Nares, “Vice” had the name sometimes of one vice, sometimes of another, but most commonly of Iniquity, or Vice itself. He was grotesquely dressed in a cap with ass’s ears, a long coat, and a dagger of lath. One of his chief employments was to make sport with the devil, leaping on his back, and belaboring him with his dagger of lath, till he made him roar. The devil, however, always carried him off in the end. He was, in short, the buffoon of the morality, and was succeeded in his office by the clown, whom we see in Shakespeare and others.663

Again, there may be a further allusion to the moralities in “King Lear” (ii. 2), where Kent says to Oswald, “take Vanity, the puppet’s, part, against the royalty of her father.”

Then, too, there were the “pageants” – shows which were usually performed in the highways of our towns, and assimilated in some degree to the miracle-plays, but were of a more mixed character, being partly drawn from profane history. According to Strutt, they were more frequent in London, being required at stated periods, such as the setting of the Midsummer Watch, and the Lord Mayor’s Show.664 Among the allusions to these shows given by Shakespeare, we may quote one in “Richard III.” (iv. 4), where Queen Margaret speaks of

“The flattering index of a direful pageant”

– the pageants displayed on public occasions being generally preceded by a brief account of the order in which the characters were to walk. These indexes were distributed among the spectators, that they might understand the meaning of such allegorical representations as were usually exhibited. In the “Merchant of Venice” (i. 1), Salarino calls argosies “the pageants of the sea,” in allusion, says Douce,665 “to those enormous machines, in the shapes of castles, dragons, ships, giants, etc., that were drawn about the streets in the ancient shows or pageants, and which often constituted the most important part of them.” Again, in “As You Like It” (iii. 4), Corin says:

“If you will see a pageant truly play’d,Between the pale complexion of true loveAnd the red glow of scorn and proud disdain,Go hence a little, and I shall conduct you,If you will mark it.”

And in “Antony and Cleopatra” (iv. 14), Antony speaks of “black vesper’s pageants.”

The nine worthies, originally comprising Joshua, David, Judas Maccabæus, Hector, Alexander, Julius Cæsar, Arthur, Charlemagne, and Godfrey of Bouillon, appear from a very early period to have been introduced occasionally in the shows and pageants of our ancestors. Thus, in “Love’s Labour’s Lost” (v. 2), the pageant of the nine worthies is introduced. As Shakespeare, however, introduces Hercules and Pompey among his presence of worthies, we may infer that the characters were sometimes varied to suit the circumstances of the period, or the taste of the auditory. A MS. preserved in the library of Trinity College, Dublin, mentions the “Six Worthies” having been played before the Lord Deputy Sussex in 1557.666

Another feature of the Whitsun merry-makings were the Cotswold games, which were generally on the Thursday in Whitsun week, in the vicinity of Chipping Campden. They were instituted by an attorney of Burton-on-the-Heath, in Warwickshire, named Robert Dover, and, like the Olympic games of the ancients, consisted of most kinds of manly sports, such as wrestling, leaping, pitching the bar, handling the pike, dancing, and hunting. Ben Jonson, Drayton, and other poets of that age wrote verses on this festivity, which, in 1636, were collected into one volume, and published under the name of “Annalia Dubrensia.”667 In the “Merry Wives of Windsor” (i. 1), Slender asks Page, “How does your fallow greyhound, sir? I heard say, he was outrun on Cotsall.” And in “2 Henry IV.”668 (iii. 2), Shallow, by distinguishing Will Squele as “a Cotswold man,” meant to imply that he was well versed in manly exercises, and consequently of a daring spirit and athletic constitution. A sheep was jocularly called a “Cotsold,” or “Cotswold lion,” from the extensive pastures in that part of Gloucestershire.

While speaking of Whitsuntide festivities, we may refer to the “roasted Manningtree ox with the pudding in his belly,” to which Prince Henry alludes in “1 Henry IV.” (ii. 4). It appears that Manningtree, in Essex, formerly enjoyed the privilege of fairs, by the tenure of exhibiting a certain number of Stage Plays yearly. There were, also, great festivities there, and much good eating, at Whitsun ales and other times. Hence, it seems that roasting an ox whole was not uncommon on such occasions. The pudding spoken of by Prince Henry often accompanied the ox, as we find in a ballad written in 1658:669

“Just so the people stareAt an ox in the fairRoasted whole with a pudding in ’s belly.”

Sheep-shearing Time commences as soon as the warm weather is so far settled that the sheep may, without danger, lay aside their winter clothing; the following tokens being laid down by Dyer, in his “Fleece” (bk. i), to mark out the proper time:670

“If verdant elder spreadsHer silver flowers; if humble daisies yieldTo yellow crowfoot and luxuriant grassGay shearing-time approaches.”

Our ancestors, who took advantage of every natural holiday, to keep it long and gladly, celebrated the time of sheep-shearing by a feast exclusively rural. Drayton,671 the countryman of Shakespeare, has graphically described this festive scene, the Vale of Evesham being the locality of the sheep-shearing which he has pictured so pleasantly:

“The shepherd king,Whose flock hath chanc’d that year the earliest lamb to bring,In his gay baldric sits at his low, grassy board,With flawns, curds, clouted cream, and country dainties stored;And whilst the bag-pipe plays, each lusty, jocund swainQuaffs syllabubs in cans, to all upon the plain,And to their country girls, whose nosegays they do wear;Some roundelays do sing; the rest the burthen bear.”

In the “Winter’s Tale,” one of the most delicious scenes (iv. 4) is that of the sheep-shearing, in which we have the more poetical “shepherd-queen.” Mr. Furnivall,672 in his introduction to this play, justly remarks: “How happily it brings Shakespeare before us, mixing with his Stratford neighbors at their sheep-shearing and country sports, enjoying the vagabond pedler’s gammon and talk, delighting in the sweet Warwickshire maidens, and buying them ‘fairings,’ telling goblin stories to the boys, ‘There was a man dwelt in a churchyard,’ opening his heart afresh to all the innocent mirth, and the beauty of nature around him.” The expense attaching to these festivities appears to have afforded matter of complaint. Thus, the clown asks, “What am I to buy for our sheep-shearing feast?” and then proceeds to enumerate various things which he will have to purchase. In Tusser’s “Five Hundred Points of Husbandry” this festival is described under “The Ploughman’s Feast-days:”

“Wife, make us a dinner, spare flesh neither corne,Make wafers and cakes, for our sheep must be shorne;At sheepe-shearing, neighbours none other things crave,But good cheere and welcome like neighbours to have.”

Midsummer Eve appears to have been regarded as a period when the imagination ran riot, and many a curious superstition was associated with this season. Thus, people gathered on this night the rose, St. John’s wort, vervain, trefoil, and rue, all of which were supposed to have magical properties. They set the orpine in clay upon pieces of slate or potsherd in their houses, calling it a “Midsummer man.” As the stalk was found next morning to incline to the right or left, the anxious maiden knew whether her lover would prove true to her or not. Young men sought, also, for pieces of coal, but, in reality, certain hard, black, dead roots, often found under the living mugwort, designing to place these under their pillows, that they might dream of themselves.673 It was also supposed that any person fasting on Midsummer-eve, and sitting in the church-porch, would at midnight see the spirits of those persons of that parish who would die that year come and knock at the church-door, in the order and succession in which they would die. Midsummer was formerly thought to be a season productive of madness. Thus, Malvolio’s strange conduct is described by Olivia in “Twelfth Night” (iii. 4) as “A very midsummer madness.” And, hence, “A Midsummer-Night’s Dream” is no inappropriate title for “the series of wild incongruities of which the play consists.”674 The Low-Dutch have a proverb that, when men have passed a troublesome night, and could not sleep, “they have passed St. John Baptist’s night” – that is, they have not taken any sleep, but watched all night. Heywood seems to allude to a similar notion when he says:

“As mad as a March hare: where madness compares,Are not midsummer hares as mad as March hares?”

A proverbial phrase, too, to signify that a person was mad, was, “’Tis midsummer moon with you” – hot weather being supposed to affect the brain.

Dog-days. A popular superstition – in all probability derived from the Egyptians – referred to the rising and setting of Sirius, or the Dog-star, as infusing madness into the canine race. Consequently, the name of “Dog-days” was given by the Romans to the period between the 3d of July and 11th of August, to which Shakespeare alludes in “Henry VIII.” (v. 3), “the dog-days now reign.” It is obvious that the notion is utterly groundless, for not only does the star vary in its rising, but is later and later every year. According to the Roman belief, “at the rising of the Dog-star the seas boil, the wines ferment in the cellars, and standing waters are set in motion; the dogs, also, go mad, and the sturgeon is blasted.” The term Dog-days is still a common phrase, and it is difficult to say whether it is from superstitious adherence to old custom or from a belief of the injurious effect of heat upon the canine race that the magistrates, often unwisely, at this season of the year order them to be muzzled or tied up.