The Every-day Book and Table Book. v. 3 (of 3) Everlasting Calerdar of Popular Amusements, Sports, Pastimes, Ceremonies, Manners, Customs and Events, Incident to Each of the Three Hundred and Sixty-five Days, in past and Present Times; Forming a Complete History of the Year, Month, and Seasons, and a Perpetual Key to the Almanac

Part 101

Chapter 1013,889 wordsPublic domain

[From “Mamamouchi,” a Comedy, by Edward Ravenscroft, 1675.]

_Foolish Lender._

_Debtor._ As to my affairs, you know I stand indebted to you.

_Creditor._ A few dribbling sums, Sir.

_Debt._ You lent ’em me very frankly, and with a great deal of generosity, and much like a gentleman.

_Cred._ You are pleased to say so.

_Debt._ But I know how to receive kindnesses, and to make returns according to the merits of the person that obliges me.

_Cred._ No man better.

_Debt._ Therefore pray let’s see how our accounts stand.

_Cred._ They are down here in my table book.

_Debt._ I am a man that love to acquit myself of all obligations as soon----

_Cred._ See the memorandum.

_Debt._ You have set it all down.

_Cred._ All.

_Debt._ Pray read--

_Cred._ Lent, the second time I saw you, one hundred guineas.

_Debt._ Right.

_Cred._ Another time fifty.

_Debt._ Yes.

_Cred._ Lent for a certain occasion, which I did not tell you, one hundred and fifty.

_Debt._ Did I not? that I should conceal any thing from my friend!

_Cred._ No matter.

_Debt._ It looks like mistrust, which is a wrong to friendship--

_Cred._ O Lord!

_Debt._ I am so ashamed!--for I dare trust my soul with you. I borrowed it, to lend a person of quality, whom I employed to introduce me to the King, and recommend to his particular favour, that I might be able to do you service in your affairs.

_Cred._ O did you so? then that debt is as it were paid; I’ll cross it out.

_Debt._ By no means; you shall have it, or I vow--

_Cred._ Well, Sir, as you please.

_Debt._ I vow I would ne’er have borrowed of you again, as long as you lived--but proceed--

_Cred._ Another time one hundred--

_Debt._ O, that was to send into France to my wife to bring her over, but the Queen would not part with her then; and since, she is fallen sick--

_Cred._ Alas!

_Debt._ But pretty well recovered--

_Cred._ These four sums make up four hundred guineas--

_Debt._ Just as can be; a very good account. Put down two hundred more, which I will borrow of you now; and then it will be just six hundred: that is, if it will be no inconvenience to you--

_Cred._ Euh, not in the least--

_Debt._ It is to make up a sum of two thousand pounds, which I am about to lay up in houses I have bought; but if it incommode you, I can have it elsewhere--

_Cred._ O, by no means--

_Debt._ You need but tell me, if it will be any trouble--

_Cred._ Lord, Sir, that you will think so--

_Debt._ I know some will be glad of the occasion to serve me; but these are favours only to be asked of special friends. I thought you, being my most esteemed friend, would take it ill, if you should come to hear of it, that I did not ask you first--

_Cred._ It is a great honour.

C. L.

[322] A noted Highwayman in those days.

* * * * *

FURS.--TIPPETS AND SCARFS.

_To the Editor._

Dear sir,--Dr. Whitaker, in his “History of Craven,” makes several extracts from the Compotus of Bolton in Craven, a folio of a thousand pages, kept by the monastery; which book begins in 1290 and ends in 1325. On one item, “In fururâ de Buget, v_s._,” the doctor has the following note, which may be interesting to others besides the lovers of the delightful science of heraldry.

“_In Fururâ de Buget._ In the middle ages, _fur_ of different species formed an elegant and comfortable appendage, not only to professional habits, but to the ordinary dress of both sexes, from the sovereign to the private gentleman. Beneath the latter rank, none but the coarsest kinds were ever in use, which _they_ certainly wore; for Chaucer, who intended to clothe his personification of Avarice in the garb of Poverty, allows her, notwithstanding, ‘a burnette cote, furred with no _meniveere_, but with a furre rough of lambe skynnes, hevy and blacke.’ (_Rom. Ros._) The different sorts enumerated in the Compotus are, the _buget_, or _budge_, _gris_, _de ventre leporino_, the white fur of the hare’s belly, and _de pellibus agninis_, or lambs’ skins. The last of these, which still forms the lining of the hoods of the bachelors of arts at Cambridge, was anciently worn both by bishops and noblemen. For the first, see Mr. Warton’s note on ‘Comus,’ edit. i. p. 146; and the inventory of the wardrope of the second earl of Cumberland in that volume. With respect to _budge_, or _buget_, it is understood by Mr. Warton (note on Comus, line 709) to be fur in general; but this interpretation is negatived by the terms of the present article, _fururâ de buget_. Whatever _budge_ may have been, it is unknown to Du Cange, who has, with immense labour and erudition, collected every thing known on the subject in the middle ages. It was certainly scarce and expensive, being used for the lining of the prior’s (Bolton) hood alone. After all, I suspect it to have been the skin of the Lithuanian weasel.[323] Even as late as Dr. Caiius’s time, the hoods of the regent masters of arts of Cambridge were lined ‘pelle arminâ seu Lituana candidâ.’ _Lituan_ is sometimes used by the old writers on heraldry as synonymous with ermine. If I am right in my conjecture, therefore, _budge_ so nearly resembled ermine, that either skin might be used indifferently as a badge of the same academical rank. And this accounts for Milton’s epithet ‘budge,’ as applied to doctors, whose congregation robes at Cambridge are still faced with ermine. _Gris_, I think, was the skin of the grey, or badger.[324] The sleeves of Chaucer’s monk, ‘a fayre prelate,’ who was gayly and expensively habited, were ‘purfited with _gris_:’ and in the head of a bishop in painted glass, I have a fine specimen of this fur in the form of a tippet about the neck.

“It seems that, in the middle ages, ecclesiastics were apt to luxuriate in the use of beautiful and costly furs: ‘Ovium itaque et agnorum despiciuntur exuviæ; ermelini, gibelini (_sables_) martores exquiruntur et vulpes.’ This vanity was checked by an English sumptuary law--‘Statutum est ne quis escarleto, in Anglorum gente, sabelino, vario, vel grisèo uteretur,’ Brompton, Anno 1188. Again, in two MSS. quoted by Du Cange, to whom I am also indebted for the foregoing passage, the expensive furs are enumerated thus,

‘Vairs et gris, et ermines, et sables de rosie:’

and again,

‘Sables, ermines, et vair, et gris.’

_Vair_ was the skin of the Mus Ponticus, a kind of weasel, the same animal with the ermine, but in a different state, i. e. killed in summer when the belly was white and the back brown, whence it obtained the name of ‘Varia.’ The ancient _mineveere_ was ‘minuta varia,’ or fur composed of these diminutive skins; and Drayton was learned and accurate when he gave his well-dressed shepherd ‘mittons[325] of bauson’s skin;’ that is, of gris, and a hood of mineveere. With respect to _sables_, I have only to add, that from their grave and sober elegance, they were retained as tippets in the habits of bishops and other dignitaries in England to the time of queen Elizabeth, when they gave place to a similar ornament of silk, the origin of the present scarf, which continued to be called a tippet till the reign of Charles II. See Baxter’s life, where we find that puritan, when sworn in king’s chaplain, refusing to wear the tippet.”

I am, &c.

T. Q. M.

[323] I have since discovered that budge is the same with “shanks,” one of the many kinds of fur enumerated in the statute of the 24th Hen. VIII.; that is, a very delicate white skin stripped from the legs of a fine haired kid, and almost equal in value, as well as in appearance, to ermine. It is not impossible that the name may have been derived from the verb “budge,” as the legs are the instruments of locomotion. See Minshew, in voce Furre. _Note to second edit. Whitaker’s Craven._

[324] In the dialect of Craven, cornfactors or millers are called badgers. Why is this?--the derivation in Mr. Carr’s work, “Horæ Momenta Cravenæ,” Teut. Ratsen discurrere, seems to me very far-fetched. I am inclined to think that millers obtained the name from the colour of their clothes. T. Q. M.

[325] Mittons are gloves with no fingers, having only a place for the thumb. They are much worn in Craven, and the Scotch shepherds, many of whom are constantly there, earn a little money by the sale of them: they knit them with common wood skewers. T. Q. M.

* * * * *

BUDGE BACHELORS.--BUDGE-ROW.

In the old lord mayors’ processions of London, there were, in the first division, the “_budge_ bachelors marching in measured order.”[326] These _budge_-bachelors go in the “Lord Mayor’s Show” to the present day, dressed in blue gowns trimmed with budge coloured fur, white. Bishop Corbet, in his “Iter Boreale,” speaks of

a most officious drudge, His face and gown drawn out with the same _budge_;

implying, that his beard and habit were of like colour. _Budge_-row, Cannon-street, according to Stow, was “so called of _budge_-fur, and of skinners dwelling there.”

*

[326] See the “London Pageant” of 1680, in “Hone on Mysteries.”

* * * * *

DAIRY POETRY.

_To the Editor._

Sir,--You may perhaps think the “Old Arm Chair” worthy a place in your amusing columns. It is the production of a self-taught, or natural genius, like Bloomfield, living in the fens of this place, and carrying on the business of a small dairyman.

_Isle of Ely,_

_Yours obediently,_

_Aug. 14, 1827._

M. W.

THE OLD ARM CHAIR.

See _Table Book_, vol. i. p. 786.

What recollections of the past, Of scenes gone by, and days that were, Crowd through my mind whene’er I cast A look upon my father’s chair.

How often have I climb’d his knees To pat his cheek, and stroke his hair; The kind paternal kiss to seize, When seated in this old arm chair.

And much of monitory lore, Which bade me of the world beware; His tongue has utter’d o’er and o’er, When seated in this old arm chair.

When ev’ning call’d us round the hearth. And storms disturb’d the wintry air; What merry tales of social mirth Have issued from this old arm chair.

With summer’s toil and heat o’ercome, When weary nature sought repair; Oft has he thrown his languid frame, Exhausted, in this old arm chair.

When adverse fortune cross’d his road, And bow’d him down with anxious care; How has he sigh’d beneath the load, When seated in this old arm chair.

But death long since has clos’d his eyes; And peacefully he slumbers, where A grassy turf is seen to rise, And fills no more this old arm chair.

Ev’n that which does those scenes recall, Which age and wasting worms impair Must shortly into pieces fall, And cease to be an old arm chair.

Yet while its smallest parts remain, My fancy shall behold him there; And memory stir those thoughts again, Of him who fill’d the old arm chair.

* * * * *

_For the Table Book._

SONNET

TO T. HOOD, ESQ. WRITTEN AFTER READING HIS “PLEA OF THE MIDSUMMER FAIRIES.”

Delightful bard! what praises meet are thine, More than my verse can sound to thee belong; Well hast thou pleaded, with a tongue divine, In this thy sweet and newly breathed song, Where, like the stream, smooth numbers gliding throng; Gather’d, methinks I see the elfin race, With the _Immortal_ standing them among, Smiling benign with more than courtly grace; Rescued I see them,--all their gambols trace, With their fair queen Titania in her bower, And all their avocations small embrace, Pictur’d by thee with a Shakspearean power-- O when the time shall come thy soul must flee, _Then_ may some hidden spirit _plead_ for thee.

EDWARD MOXON.

* * * * *

_For the Table Book._

THE QUINTAIN.

My better parts Are all thrown down; and that which here stands up, Is but a _quintain_, a mere lifeless block.

_As You Like it._

Mr. Chalmers, in his edition of Shakspeare, gives the following annotation on the preceding passage:--“A _quintain_ was a _post_, or _butt_, set up for several kinds of martial exercises, against which they threw their darts, and exercised their arms. But all the commentators are at variance about this word, and have illustrated their opinions with cuts, for which we must refer the reader to the new edition, 21 vols. 8vo.”

Ben, the satirical sorrel Ben Jonson, thus notices this same _quintin_, _quintain_, or _gwyntyn_, as the Welsh spell it:--

At _quintin_ he In honour of his bridal-tee. Hath challenged either wide countee; Come cut and long taile, for there be Six batchelors as bold as he, Adjuting to his company, And each one hath his livery.

The word _gwyntyn_ literally meant _vane_, and was corrupted by the English into quintin, or quintain. Thus, we may naturally suppose, that this ancient custom, and more particularly bridal game, was borrowed by the Britons from the Welsh, who had it from the Romans on their invasion of England. It is mentioned by Minshew, as being a sport held every fifth year among the Olympic games, or it was the last of the πενταθλοι, used on the fifth or last day of the Olympics: it is supposed to be a Roman game, and left in this island ever since their time.

Dr. Kennet, in his “Parochial Antiquities,” from Dr. Plot, says, that at the village of Blackthorn, through which the Roman road lay, they use it at their weddings to this day, on the common green, with much solemnity and mirth.[327]

Dr. Johnson says, I know not from whence it is derived; Minshew deduces it from _quintus_, and calls it a game celebrated every fifth year; _palus quintanus_, and from _quintaine_, French. It is, says he, an upright post, on the top of which a cross-post turned upon a pin; at one end of the cross-post was a broad board, and at the other a heavy sand-bag; the play was, to ride against the broad end with a lance, and pass by before the sand-bag, coming round, should strike the tilter to the ground. Sir Henry Spelman, who was a spectator of the game, coincides with this account, and says, “by which means, striking at the board, whirls round the bag and endangers the striker.” At weddings, in England and Wales, it was a constant amusement, and so generally practised in the latter country, that it may almost be said to class with their sports and manners.

In Roberts’s “Popular Antiquities of Wales,”[328] there is the following account of this ancient manly amusement. “On the day of the ceremony, the nuptial presents having previously been made, and the marriage privately celebrated at an early hour, the signal to the friends of the bridegroom was given by the piper, who was always present on these occasions, and mounted on a horse trained for the purpose; and the cavalcade being all mounted, set off at full speed, with the piper playing in the midst of them, for the house of the bride. The friends of the bride in the mean time having raised various obstructions to prevent their access to the house of the bride, such as ropes of straw across the road, blocking up the regular one, &c., and the _quintain_; the rider in passing struck the flat side, and if not dexterous was overtaken, and perhaps dismounted, by the sand-bag, and became a fair object for laughter. The _gwyntyn_ was also guarded by champions of the opposite party; who, if it was passed successfully, challenged the adventurers to a trial of skill at one of the four and twenty games--a challenge which could not be declined; and hence to guard the gwyntyn was a service of high adventure.”

In Henry the Third’s time, or about the year 1253, it was much in fashion in almost every part of the kingdom: this game was sometimes played, by hanging a shield upon a staff fixed in the ground, and the skilful squire riding by struck the shield in such a manner as to detach it from its ligatures;[329] but this was of a less dangerous nature, and only used when the quintain could not be obtained.

There was another, but more hazardous manner, to those who were not skilled by habit in the use of the lance and javelin. It consisted of two large poles being drove into the ground, far enough apart to allow a man on horseback to ride full speed between them: at the top of these was an immense heavy sand-bag, fixed on a pivot, so as to swing freely round, and backward and forward, with amazing rapidity: this the young aspirant for chivalric honours delighted in, as a grand treat for the display of his personal bravery and contempt for danger. He commenced by reining in his steed opposite to the sand-bag, then dashing away at full speed, at the same time hurling the javelin at the bag with considerable force, and passing between the poles before it could resume its original position. Many of the squires and yeomen of Richard with the Lion-heart, held it in great esteem; and they would often pass through the supporters, regain their javelin, return back before the bag had sufficient time to fall, and ride bravely off without a single blow from this heavy instrument of pleasure. He who executed this feat in a handsome manner was declared victor, and the prize to which he became entitled was a peacock.

In the princely fête given by sir Rhys ap Thomas, in honour of his being admitted companion of the illustrious order of the Garter, it is mentioned thus:--“When they had dined they went to visit eache captaine in his quarters, wheare they found everie man in action, some wrestling, some hurling at the barr, some taking of the pike, some running at the _quintaine_, &c.” Dr. Watts thus explains it:--“A ludicrous and sportive way of tilting or running on horseback at some mark hung on high, moveable, and turning round; which, while the riders strike at with lances, unless they ride quickly off, the versatile beam strikes upon their shoulders.”

I earnestly recommend for the perusal of the reader, (if he delights in “merie deedes an’ greenewoodee sportes, inn thee brighte formes of ladees highh, immersed in uncouthe donjons, by treacherouse kings, greate lords, an’ mightee knights,”) the tale of “Castle Baynard,” in which he will find many very interesting customs, and more particularly, an excellent delineation of the above game. The author of this delightful little story is Hal Willis, who is possessed of considerable talent, and a knowledge of our ancestorial manners.

F. C. N.

[327] Vide also Mat. Paris: and Strype’s “History of London,” vol. i. 1st part, page 249, who delineates its figure.

[328] Page 162.

[329] Mill’s History of Chivalry.

* * * * *

A FARTHING LORD.

Lord Braco, an ancestor of the earl of Fife, was remarkable for practising that celebrated rule, “Get all you can, and keep all you get.” One day, walking down the avenue from his house, he saw a farthing lying at his feet, which he took up and carefully cleaned. A beggar passing at the same time, entreated his lordship would give him the farthing, saying, it was not worth a nobleman’s attention. “_Fin’_ a farthing to _yoursel’_, puir body,” replied his lordship, and carefully put the coin into his breeches pocket.

In addition to being his own farthing _fin’er_, his lordship was his own factor and rent-collector. A tenant who called upon him to pay his rent happened to be deficient a single _farthing_. This amount could not be excused; and the farmer had to seek the farthing. When the business was adjusted, the countryman said to his lordship, “Now Braco, I wou’d gie ye a shillin’ for a sight o’ a’ the goud an’ siller ye hae.”--“Weel, mon,” replied Braco, “it’s no cost ye ony mair;” and accordingly, for and in consideration of the aforesaid sum, in hand first well and truly paid, his lordship exhibited several iron boxes filled with gold and silver coin. “Now,” says the farmer, “I’m as rich as yoursel’, Braco.”--“Aye, mon!” said his lordship, “how can that be?”--“Because I’ve _seen_ it--an’ _you_ can do nae mair.”

* * * * *

SINGULAR TOLL.

SKIPTON IN CRAVEN.

From a paper of Henry the Eighth’s time, among the MSS. at Skipton, I find that the following singular toll was anciently levied in Skirack and Crookrise:

“Note, that theise customes hayth ben used tyme out of mynd, by y^{e} report of Rob. Garth, forster ther; the whych s-ay-eth, that he in all his tyme, and his father afore him in y^{t} office, always hayth taken the sayd customes:

“First, that ev’ry bryde cumynge that waye shulde eyther gyve her lefte shoo or III_s._ IV_d._ to the forster of Crookryse, by way of custome or gaytcloys.”

The rest only relate to tolls taken for the passage of sheep, cattle, and wool.

The commutation was so high, that I suppose the penalty would generally be paid in kind; and by this ungallant custom, the poor brides of Craven would be reduced to tread the rugged ways of Crookrise in the situation of the light-footed sons of Thestius--

----το λαιον ιχνος αναζβυλοι ωοδος, Τονδ εν ωεδιλοις.--

_Eurip. in Fragm._[330]

[330] Dr. Whitaker’s History of Craven.

* * * * *

A CURIOUS NARRATIVE.

_For the Table Book._

PRINCE GEORGE OF DENMARK, AND SIR JOHN AND LADY DUDDLESTONE.

The following very remarkable anecdote is accompanied by a reference to the only work of any authority wherein I have met with it.

Prince George of Denmark, the nominal king-consort to queen Anne, in passing through Bristol, appeared on the Exchange, attended only by one gentleman, a military officer, and remained there till the merchants had pretty generally withdrawn, not one of them having sufficient resolution to speak to him, as perhaps they might not be prepared to ask such a guest to their houses. But this was not the case with all who saw him, for a person, whose name was John Duddlestone, a bodice-maker, in Corn-street, went up and asked the prince if he was not the husband of the queen, who informed him he was. John Duddlestone then told the prince, that he had observed, with a great deal of concern, that none of the merchants had invited him home to dinner, adding, it was not for want of love to the queen or to him, but because they did not consider themselves prepared to entertain so great a man; but John said, he was ashamed to think of his dining at an inn, and requested him to go and dine with him, and bring the gentleman along with him, informing him that he had a piece of good beef and a plum pudding, and ale of his dame’s own brewing. The prince admired the loyalty of the man, and though he had bespoke a dinner at the White Lion, went with him; and when they got to the house, Duddlestone called his wife, who was up stairs, desiring her to put on a clean apron and come down, for the queen’s husband and another gentleman were come to dine with them; she accordingly came down with her clean blue apron, and was immediately saluted by the prince. In the course of the dinner, the prince asked him if he ever went to London? He said, that since the ladies had worn stays instead of bodices, he sometimes went to buy whalebone; whereupon the prince desired him to take his wife when he went again, at the same time giving him a card, to facilitate his introduction to him at court.