"To English ale, and Gascon wine,
And French, doth Christmas much incline-- And Anjou's too;
He makes his neighbour freely drink, So that in sleep his head doth sink Often by day.
May joys flow from God above
To all those who Christmas love.
Lords, by Christmas and the host Of this mansion hear my toast-- Drink it well--
Each must drain his cup of wine, And I the first will toss off mine: Thus I advise,
Here then I bid you all Wassail,
Cursed be he who will not say Drinkhail." [17]
wassailing at christmastide.
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Proceeding with our historical narrative we come now to
The Romantic Reign of Richard the First,
surnamed Coeur de Lion, the second son of Henry II. and Eleanor of Aquitaine, who succeeded to the English throne on the death of his father in 1189. Richard is generally supposed to have derived his surname from a superiority of animal courage; but, if the metrical romance bearing his name, and written in the thirteenth century, be entitled to credit, he earned it nobly and literally, by plucking out the heart of a lion, to whose fury he had been exposed by the Duke of Austria for having slain his son with a blow of his fist. In the numerous descriptions afforded by the romance Richard is a most imposing personage. He is said to have carried with him to the Crusades, and to have afterwards presented to Tancred, King of Sicily, the wonder-working sword of King Arthur--
"The gude sword
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that Arthur luffed so well."
He is also said to have carried a shaft, or lance, 14 feet in length, and
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"An axe for the nones,
To break therewith the Sarasyns bones. The head was wrought right wele, Therein was twenty pounds of steel."
But, without attempting to follow Richard through all the brilliant episodes of his romantic career, there can be no doubt that he was a king of great strength and courage, and that his valorous deeds won the admiration of poets and chroniclers, who have surrounded him with a splendid halo of romance. Contemporary writers tell us that while Richard kept magnificent Christmases abroad with the King of Sicily and other potentates, his justiciars (especially the extravagant William Longchamp, Bishop of Ely) were no less lavish
in their expenditure for festive entertainments at home. And the old romance of "Richard Coeur de Lion" assures us that--
"Christmas is a time full honest;
Kyng Richard it honoured with gret feste. All his clerks and barouns
Were set in their pavylouns, And seryed with grete plente
Of mete and drink and each dainte."
There is no doubt that the Crusades had a vast influence upon our literary tastes, as well as upon the national manners and the festivities of Christmastide. On their return from the Holy Land the pilgrims and Crusaders brought with them new subjects for theatrical representation, founded on the objects of their devotion and the incidents in their wars, and these found expression in the early mysteries and other plays of Christmastide--that of St. George and the Dragon, which survived to modern times, probably owing its origin to this period. It is to Richard Coeur de Lion that we are indebted for the rise of chivalry in England. It was he who developed tilts and tournaments, and under his auspices these diversions assumed a military air, the genius of poetry flourished, and the fair sex was exalted in admiration. How delightful was it then, beneath the inspiring gaze of the fair--
"Sternly to strike the quintin down;
Or fiercely storm some turf-formed town; To rush with valour's doughty sway, Against a Babylon of clay;
A Memphis shake with furious shock,
Or raze some flower-built Antioch!"[18]
On the death of Richard, in 1199, his brother
John was crowned King of England.
The youngest and favourite son of Henry II., John, was humoured in childhood and grew to be an arrogant and 060petulant man, and was one of the worst of English kings. He possessed ability, but not discipline. He could neither govern himself nor his kingdom. He was tyrannical and passionate, and spent a good deal of time in the gratification of his animal appetites. He was fond of display and good living, and extravagant in his Christmas entertainments. When, in 1201, he kept Christmas at Guildford he taxed his purse and ingenuity in providing all his servitors with costly apparel, and he was greatly annoyed because the Archbishop of Canterbury, in a similar fit of sumptuary extravagance, sought to outdo his sovereign. John, however, cunningly concealed his displeasure
at the time, but punished the prelate by a costly celebration of the next Easter festival at Canterbury at the Archbishop's expense. In consequence of John's frequent quarrels with his nobles the attendance at his Christmas feasts became smaller every year, until he could only muster a very meagre company around his festive board, and it was said that he had almost as many enemies as there were nobles in the kingdom.
In 1205 John spent his Christmas at the ancient town of Brill, in the Vale of Aylesbury, and in 1213 he kept a Royal Christmas in the great hall at Westminster.
Magna Charta demanded at a Christmas Festival.
The Christmas of 1214 is memorable in English history as the festival at which the barons demanded from King John that docu-ment which as the foundation of our English liberties is known to us by the name of Magna Charta, that is, the Great Charter. John's tyranny and lawlessness had become intolerable, and the people's hope hung on the fortunes of the French campaign in which he
was then engaged. His defeat at the battle of Bouvines, fought on July 27, 1214, gave strength to his opponents; and after his return to England the barons secretly met at St. Edmundsbury and swore to demand from him, if needful by force of arms, the restoration
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of their liberties by charter under the king's seal. Having agreed to assemble at the Court for this purpose during the approaching festival of Christmas they separated. When Christmas Day arrived John was at Worcester, attended only by a few of his immediate retainers and some foreign mercenaries. None of his great vassals came, as was customary at Christmas, to offer their congratulations. His attendants tried in vain to assume an appearance of cheerfulness and festivity; but John, alarmed at the absence of the barons, hastily rode to London and there shut himself up in the house of the Knights Templars. On the Feast of the Epiphany the barons assembled in great force at London and presenting themselves in arms before the King formally demanded his confirmation of the laws of Edward the Confessor and Henry I. At first John assumed a bold and defiant air and met the barons with an absolute refusal and061 threats; but, finding the nobles were firm, he sank to the meanness of subterfuge, and pleaded the necessity of time for the consideration of demands so weighty. With some reluctance the barons granted the delay, and ultimately, in 1215, the tyrant bowed to the inevitable, called the barons to a conference at Runnymede, and there signed the Great Charter, whose most important clauses protect the personal liberty and property of every freeman in the kingdom by giving security from arbitrary imprisonment and unjust exactions.
[16] "Short History of the Norman Conquest."
[17] Wassail and Drinkhail are both derived from the Anglo-Saxon. They were the common drinking pledges of the age. Wassail is equivalent to the phrase, "Your health," of the present day. Drinkhail, which literally signifies "drink health," was the usual acknowledgment of the other pledge. The carol from which the verses are quoted was evidently sung by the wandering minstrels who visited the castles of the Norman nobility at