Part 37

It is so exceedingly clear that the terms _clown_ and _fool_ were used, however improperly, as synonymous by our old writers, that it would be an unnecessary occupation of the reader's time to adduce examples. Their confused introduction in the dramatis personæ might indeed render this position doubtful to any one who had not well considered the matter; but although the _fool_ of our old plays denoted either a mere idiot or natural, or else a witty hireling or artificial fool, both retained for the purpose of making sport for their employers, the _clown_ was certainly a character of much greater variety. He occasionally represented one of the above personages; sometimes he was a mere rustic, and very often no more than a shrewd and witty domestic. There are some instances in which any low character in a play served to amuse the audience with his sallies of coarse buffoonery, and thus became the _clown_ of the piece. In short, the theatrical clown or fool seems to have been a kind of heterogeneous character, drawn in part from real life, but very considerably heightened in order to produce stage effect; an opinion that derives considerable support from what Shakspeare has put into the mouth of Hamlet, when he makes him admonish those who play the clowns to speak no more than is set down for them. Indeed, the great dramatist himself cannot be absolved from the imputation of having given too high a colouring to the characters in question, unless we suppose, what is extremely probable, that his plays have been very much interpolated with the extemporaneous nonsense of the players. To this licentious practice the author of an excellent and well written satire, entitled _Pasquil's mad-cappe, throwne at the corruptions of these times_, 1626, 4to, alludes in the following lines:

"Tell country players, that old paltry jests Pronounced in a painted motley coate, Filles all the world so full of cuckoes nests, That nightingales can scarcely sing a note: Oh bid them turne their minds to better meanings; Fields are ill sowne that give no better gleanings."

Among other grave writers of the age, Sir Philip Sidney has reprobated the practice of introducing fools on the theatre. He remarks that the plays of his time were neither right tragedies nor right comedies, but that the authors mingled kings and clowns, "not," says he, "because the matter so carieth it, but thrust in the _clowne_ by head and shoulders to play a part in majestical matters, with neither decencie nor discretion: so as neither the admiration and commiseration, nor the right sportfulnesse is by their mongrell tragi-comedie obtained."[46] William Rankin, a puritan, and contemporary with Shakspeare, has left us a most virulent attack on plays, and players, whom he calls monsters: "And whie monsters," says he, "Bicause under colour of humanitie they present nothing but prodigious vanitie. These are wels without water, dead branches fit for fuell, cockle amongst corne, unwholesome weedes amongst sweete hearbes, and finallie, feends that are crept into the worlde by stealth, and holde possession by subtill invasion." In another place, describing the performers at a fictitious banquet in Terralbon, [England] he says, "Some transformed themselves to roges, other to ruffians, some other to _clownes_, a fourth to _fooles_ ... the roges were ready, the ruffians were rude, _theyr clownes cladde_ as well with country condition, as in ruffe russet; theyr _fooles as fonde as might be_," &c.[47] The latter passage is interesting, because the clown is properly distinguished from the fool, as he always should have been.

It may be the means of affording a clearer view of the present subject, if something like a classification of the different sorts of fools and clowns be given. The following is therefore offered as a substitute for a better.

I. _The general domestic fool_, often, but as it should seem improperly, termed a clown. He was, 1. a mere natural, or idiot. 2. Silly by nature, yet cunning and sarcastical. 3. Artificial. Puttenham, speaking of the latter, says, "A buffoune or counterfet foole, to here him speake wisely which is like himselfe, it is no sport at all; but for such a counterfait to talke and looke foolishly it maketh us laugh, because it is no part of his naturall."[48] All these officiated occasionally as menial servants.

II. _The clown_, who was, 1. a mere country booby. 2. A witty rustic. 3. Any servant of a shrewd and witty disposition, and who, like a similar character in our modern plays, was made to treat his master with great familiarity in order to produce stage effect.

III. _The female fool_, who was generally an idiot.

IV. _The city or corporation fool_, whose office was to assist at public entertainments and in pageants. To this class belong perhaps the Lord Mayor's state fool, and those employed by the companies of trades, &c.

V. _Tavern fools._ These seem to have been retained to amuse the customers. We learn from one of Ben Jonson's plays that they exhibited with a Jew's harp, mounted on a joint-stool,[49] and in another of them he has preserved the name of such a character:[50] they were sometimes qualified to sing after the Italian manner.[51] Fools were also employed in the common brothels.[52]

VI. _The fool of the ancient theatrical mysteries and moralities._ He was, more properly speaking, the _Vice_, a singular character, that would afford sufficient matter for much better dissertations than those of Warburton or Upton. Being generally dressed in a fool's habit, he appears to have been gradually and undistinguishably blended with the domestic fool; yet he was certainly a buffoon of a different sort. He was always a bitter enemy to the Devil, and a part of his employment consisted in teazing and tormenting the poor fiend on every occasion. He ceased to be in fashion at the end of the sixteenth century.[53]

VII. _The fool in the old dumb shows exhibited at fairs and perhaps at inns_, in which he was generally engaged in a struggle with Death; a fact that seems alluded to more than once in Shakspeare's plays. It is possible that some casual vestiges of this species of entertainment might have suggested the modern English pantomimes.

VIII. _The fool in the Whitsun ales and Morris dance._

IX. _The mountebank's fool, or merry Andrew._

There may be others introduced into our old dramas of an indefinite and irregular kind, and not reducible to any of the above classes; but to exemplify these or many of the above by a specific reference to authorities is not within the scope of the present essay. It is hoped that what has been just stated may contribute to assist the readers of old plays in forming some judgment of their own whenever the necessity shall arise.

A general investigation of that most singular and eccentric character, the real domestic fool, would occupy more space than could here have been spared. It would indeed extend to a length that few will conceive; but should the same laudable spirit of curiosity respecting the manners of former times which at present constitutes much of the amusement of an enlightened public continue to maintain its influence, encouragement would not be wanting to resume the subject more at large. In the mean time it may be sufficient to remark that the practice of retaining fools can be traced in very remote times throughout almost all civilized and even among some barbarous nations. It prevailed from the palace to the brothel. The pope had his fool, and the bawd her's; and ladies entertained them of both sexes. With respect to the antiquity of this custom in our own country, there is reason to suppose that it existed even during the period of our Saxon history; but we are quite certain of the fact in the reign of William the Conqueror. An almost contemporary historian, Maitre Wace, has left us a curious account of the preservation of William's life when he was only duke of Normandy by his fool _Goles_.[54] Mention is made in Domesday of _Berdic joculator regis_; and although this term was unquestionably applied in numerous instances to denote a minstrel, much evidence might be adduced to show that on this occasion it signified a buffoon. Latin terms were used by the middle-age writers so licentiously and with such extreme carelessness, that in many cases it is difficult to obtain a precise idea of their meaning. Thus the jesters and minstrels were indefinitely expressed by the words _joculator_, _scurra_, _mimus_, _ministrallus_, &c., a practice that may admit of justification when we consider that in early times the minstrel and buffoon characters were sometimes united in one person. It must be allowed, however, that in an etymological point of view the term _joculator_ is much better adapted to the jester than the minstrel.

The accounts of the household expenses of our sovereigns contain many payments and rewards to fools both foreign and domestic, the motives for which do not appear, but might perhaps have been some witty speech or comic action that had pleased the donors. Some of these payments are annual gifts at Christmas. Dr. Fuller, speaking of the court jester, whom he says some count a necessary evil, remarks, in his usual quaint manner, that it is an office which none but he that hath wit can perform, and none but he that wants it will perform.[55] A great many names of these buffoons have been preserved; and sufficient materials remain to furnish a separate biography of them, which might afford even more amusement than can be found in the lives of many of their betters. They continued an appurtenance to the English court to a late period. Muckle John, the fool of Charles the First, and the successor of Archee Armstrong, is perhaps the last regular personage of the kind.[56] The national troubles that produced the downfall of regal power, and the puritanical manners that ensued, at once determined the existence of an office that had so long maintained its ground at court: and when Charles the Second resumed the throne, it was probably deemed a matter of no moment to restore it. The common stories that relate to Killigrew as jester to Charles, rest on no sufficient authority; and although he might have contributed to amuse the witty monarch with his jokes, it is certain that he had no regular appointment to such an office. Mr. Granger has justly observed that the wit of the buffoons became the highest recommendation of a courtier in the time of Charles the Second.[57]

The discontinuance of the court fool had a considerable influence on the manners of private life; and we learn from one of Shadwell's plays, that it was then "out of fashion for great men to keep fools."[58] But the practice was by no means abolished; it maintained its ground in this country so late as the beginning of the last century; and we have an epitaph, written by Dean Swift, on Dicky Pearce the Earl of Suffolk's fool, who was buried in Berkley church-yard, June 18, 1728.[59] This person was an idiot. Lord Chancellor Talbot kept a Welsh jester named Rees Pengelding. He was a very shrewd fellow, and rented a farm of his master. Being distrained on for his rent by an oppressive steward, who had been a tailor and bore him a grudge, the surly fellow said to him on this occasion, "I'll fit you, sirrah."

"Then," replied Rees, "it will be the first time in your life that you ever fitted any one." Another Welshman called Will the taborer was retained in a similar capacity, about the beginning of the last century, by Sir Edward Stradling, of St. Donat's castle, in Glamorganshire. He is said to have been a very witty fellow, and man of strong intellects. Lord Bussy Mansel, of Margam, had likewise in his service one Robin Rush, an idiot by nature, but who often said very witty things. There are people now alive in Wales, or lately were, who well remembered him.

The sort of entertainment that fools were expected to afford, may be collected in great variety from our old plays, and particularly from those of Shakspeare; but perhaps no better idea can be formed of their general mode of conduct than from the following passage in a singular tract by Lodge, entitled _Wit's miserie_, 1599, 4to: "Immoderate and disordinate joy became incorporate in the bodie of a jeaster; this fellow in person is comely, in apparell courtly, but in behaviour a very ape, and no man; his studie is to coine bitter jeasts, or to shew antique motions, or to sing baudie sonnets and ballads: give him a little wine in his head, he is continually flearing and making of mouthes: he laughs intemperately at every little occasion, and dances about the house, leaps over tables, out-skips mens heads, trips up his companions heeles, burns sack with a candle, and hath all the feats of a lord of misrule in the countrie: feed him in his humor, you shall have his heart, in meere kindness he will hug you in his armes, kisse you on the cheeke, and rapping out an horrible oth, crie God's soule Tum, I love you, you know my poore heart, come to my chamber for a pipe of tabacco, there lives not a man in this world that I more honor. In these ceremonies you shall know his courting, and it is a speciall mark of him at the table, he sits and makes faces: keep not this fellow company, for in _jugling_ with him, your wardropes shall be wasted, your credits crackt, your crownes consumed, and time (the most precious riches of the world) utterly lost." This is the picture of a real hireling or artificial fool.

As the profession of these hirelings required a considerable degree of skill and dexterity to amuse their employers, so it would in some instances fail of success, and the want of the above talents would excite considerable disgust and dissatisfaction. Cardinal Perron being one day in company with the duke of Mantua, the latter, speaking of his fool, said that he was _un magro buffone & non haver spirito_. The cardinal remarked that nevertheless he had wit. "Why so?" demanded the duke. "Because," replied the other, "he lives by a trade which he does not understand."[60] The liberties allowed them were necessarily very great; but this was not always a protection to them. Every one knows the disgracefully severe conduct of archbishop Laud to poor Archee. The duke d'Espernon, though a man of great haughtiness of spirit, conducted himself on a similar occasion with much more discretion. His Gascon accent was a constant subject of raillery on the part of Maret, the fool of Louis XIII., whose great talent lay in mimicry. Cardinal Richelieu, who took upon him to give the duke some pointed admonitions, ordered him among other things to endeavour to get rid of his provincial tones, at the same time counterfeiting his speech, and sarcastically intreating him not to take his advice in bad part. "But why should I," replied the duke, "when I bear as much every day from the king's fool, who mocks me in your presence?"[61] Selden has remarked, on a similar occasion, that a gallant man is above ill words, and has left us a story of the forbearance of the old lord Salisbury, whom he calls a great wise man, towards Stone, a celebrated fool in the reign of James the First.[62] Fools, however, did not always escape with impunity; they were liable to, and often experienced, very severe domestic castigation. Whipping was the punishment generally inflicted.[63] On the other hand they appear to have been sometimes used with great tenderness. This is very feelingly exemplified in the conduct of Lear. Stafford in his _Guide of honour_, 1634, 18mo, tells us, that he "had knowne a great and competently wise man who would much respect any man that was good to his foole." An opportunity here presents itself of explaining the old proverb of "five pounds; you've bled a fool," which, adverting to the usual privilege or allowance belonging to this character, seems to demand a forfeit from whoever had infringed it by inflicting an improper and unlawful chastisement. This exposition derives support from a passage in Ben Jonson's _Fox_, and also contributes to its illustration. In the second Act there is a song describing a fool, in which it is said that he "speaks truth free from slaughter." This has been with some ingenuity supposed to mean "_free_ from hurting any one." The other construction may perhaps be thought as plausible.

With respect to his office on the stage, we may suppose it would be nearly the same as in reality; the difference might be that his wit was more highly seasoned. Mr. Malone has already cited a very curious passage on this subject from the play of _The careless shepherdess_, 1656.[64] In Middleton's _Mayor of Quinborough_, a company of actors with a clown make their appearance, and the following dialogue ensues:

FIRST CHEATER.

This is our clown, sir.

SIMON.

Fye, fye, your company Must fall upon him and beat him; he's too fair, i' faith To make the people laugh.

FIRST CHEATER.

Not as he may be dress'd sir.

SIMON.

'Faith, dress him how you will, I'll give him That gift, he will never look half scurvily enough. Oh, the clowns that I have seen in my time. The very peeping out of one of them would have Made a young heir laugh, though his father lay a dying; A man undone in law the day before (The saddest case that can be) might for his second Have burst himself with laughing, and ended all His miseries. Here was a merry world, my masters! Some talk of things of state, of puling stuff; There's nothing in a play like to a clown, If he have the grace to hit on it, that's the thing indeed.

SIMON.

Away then, shift; clown to thy _motley_ crupper.

Whoever is desirous of obtaining general and accurate information concerning the great variety of dresses that belong to some of the characters in question at different periods, must study ancient prints and paintings, and especially the miniatures that embellish manuscripts. These will afford sufficient specimens; but the difficulty of ascertaining how the _theatrical fools and clowns_ of Shakspeare's time were _always_ habited, is insuperable. In some instances the plays themselves assist by peculiar references that leave but little doubt; but this is not the case in general. It is to be lamented that our artists did not appropriate more of their labours to the representation of theatrical subjects, and the fortunate discovery of a single ancient painting of this kind would be of more importance than a volume of conjectural dissertations. As it may be presumed that former theatrical managers exhibited with fidelity on the stage, the manners of their own times, a reference to the materials which remain to illustrate the dress of the real fools, may supply the defect before alluded to.

It may be collected both from the plays themselves, and from various other authorities, that the costume of the domestic fool in Shakspeare's time was of two sorts. In the first of these the coat was motley or parti-coloured, and attached to the body by a girdle, with bells at the skirts and elbows, though not always. The breeches and hose close, and sometimes each leg of a different colour. A hood resembling a monk's cowl, which, at a very early period, it was certainly designed to imitate, covered the head entirely, and fell down over part of the breast and shoulders. It was sometimes decorated with asses ears, or else terminated in the neck and head of a cock,[65] a fashion as old as the fourteenth century. It often had the comb or crest only of the animal,[66] whence the term _cockscomb_ or _coxcomb_ was afterwards used to denote any silly upstart. This fool usually carried in his hand an official scepter or bauble, which was a short stick ornamented at the end with the figure of a fool's head, or sometimes with that of a doll or puppet.[67] To this instrument there was frequently annexed an inflated skin or bladder, with which the fool belaboured those who offended him, or with whom he was inclined to make sport; this was often used by itself, in lieu, as it should seem, of a bauble.[68] The form of it varied, and in some instances was obscene in the highest degree. It was not always filled with air, but occasionally with sand, or peas. Sometimes a strong bat or club was substituted for the bauble.[69] In the second tale of the priests of Peblis, a man who counterfeits a fool is described "with _club_ and bel and partie cote with eiris;" but it afterwards appears that he had both a club and a bauble. In an inventory of the goods of the ancient company of Saint George at Norwich, mention is made of "two habits, one for the _club-bearer_, another for his man, who are now called fools;"[70] and the author of _Tarlton's newes out of purgatory_, 1630, 4to, describes a dream in which he saw "one attired in russet with a button'd cap on his head, a great bag by his side, and a _strong bat_ in his hand, so artificially attired for a clowne, as I began to call Tarlton's woonted shape to remembrance."

In some old prints the fool is represented with a sort of flapper or rattle ornamented with bells. It seems to have been constructed of two round and flat pieces of wood or pasteboard, and is no doubt a vestige of the crotalum used by the Roman mimes or dancers.[71] This implement was used for the same purpose as the bladder, and occasionally for correcting the fool himself whenever he behaved with too much licentiousness. Such a castigation is actually exhibited in one ancient German edition of the _Ship of fools_, by Sebastian Brandt; but the usual punishment on this occasion was a simple whipping. In some old plays the fool's _dagger_ is mentioned, perhaps the same instrument as was carried by the _Vice_ or buffoon of the Moralities; and it may be as well to observe in this place that the domestic fool is sometimes, though it is presumed improperly, called the Vice.[72] The dagger of the latter was made of a thin piece of lath; and the use he generally made of it was to belabour the Devil. It appears that in Queen Elizabeth's time the archbishop of Canterbury's fool had a wooden dagger and coxcomb.[73] In Greene's play of _Fryer Bacon_, the fool speaks of his dagger. In Beaumont and Fletcher's _Noble gentleman_, a person being compared to a fool, it is added that he should wear a guarded coat and a _great wooden dagger_. In Chapman's _Widows tears_, an upstart governor is termed "a wooden dagger _gilded_ o'er;" and Rabelais has made Panurge give Triboulet the fool a wooden sword. In an old German print a fool is represented with a sword like a _saw_.[74]

The other dress, and which seems to have been more common in the time of Shakspeare, was the long petticoat.[75] This originally appertained to the idiot or natural fool, and was obviously adopted for the purposes of cleanliness and concealment. Why it came to be used for the allowed fool is not so apparent. It was, like the first, of various colours, the materials often costly, as of velvet, and guarded or fringed with yellow.[76] In one instance we have a _yellow leather_ doublet.[77] In Bancroft's _Epigrams_, 1639, quarto, there is one addressed "to a giglot with her greene sicknesse," in which are these lines,

"Thy sicknesse mocks thy pride, that's seldom seene But in _foole's yellow_, and the lover's greene."

And a manuscript note in the time of the commonwealth states yellow to have been the _fool's colour_. This petticoat dress continued to a late period, and has been seen not many years since in some of the interludes exhibited in Wales.

But the above were by no means the only modes in which the domestic fools were habited. Many variations can be traced. The hood was not always surmounted with the cocks comb, in lieu of which a single bell and occasionally more appeared.[78] Sometimes a feather was added to the comb.[79] In the old morality of _The longer thou livest the more foole thou art_, Moros the fool says,