CHAPTER VIII. The Bellman--Descriptions of Him--His Verses. the

The Bellman--Descriptions of him--His verses. The Waits--Their origin--Ned Ward on them--Corporation Waits--York Waits (17th Century)--Essay on Waits--Westminster Waits--Modern Waits.

Before the advent of Christmas the Bellman, or Watchman, left at each house a copy of verses ostensibly breathing good-will and a happy Christmas to the occupants, but in reality as a reminder to them of his existence, and that he would call in due time for his Christmas box. The date of the institution of the Bellman is not well defined. In Tegg's Dictionary of Chronology, 1530 is given, but no authority for the statement is adduced; Machyn, in his diary, is more definite "[the xij. day of January 1556-7, in Alderman Draper's ward called] chordwenerstrett ward, a belle man [went about] with a belle at evere lane, and at the ward [end to] gyff warnyng of ffyre and candyll lyght, [and to help the] poure, and pray for the ded." Their cry being, "Take care of your fire and candle, be charitable to the poor, and pray for the dead."

Shakespeare knew him, for in Macbeth (Act II. sc. 2) he says:

It was the owl that shriek'd, the fatal bell man, Which gives the stern'st good night.

And Milton mentions him in Il Penseroso:

Or the bellman's drowsy charm, To bless the doors from nightly harm.

Herrick also celebrates The Bellman:

From noise of Scare-fires rest ye free, From Murders Benedicite. From all mischances, that may fright Your pleasing slumbers in the night; Mercie secure ye all, and keep The Goblin from ye, while ye sleep. Past one o'clock, and almost two, My Masters all, Good day to you.

On the title page of Decker's Belman of London (ed. 1608) we have a woodcut giving a vivid portrait of the Bellman going his nightly rounds with his pike upon his shoulder, a horn lanthorn, with a candle inside, in one hand, and his bell, which is attached by a strap to his girdle, in the other hand, his faithful dog following him in his nightly rounds. In his Lanthorne and Candle light; or The Bell-man's second Night's walke, ed. 1608, the title page gives us a totally different type of Bellman, carrying both bell and lanthorn, but bearing no pike, nor is he accompanied by a dog. In his O per se O, ed. 1612, is another type of Bellman, with lanthorn, bell, and brown bill on his shoulder, but no dog. And in his Villanies Discovered by Lanthorne and Candle Light, etc., ed. 1620, we have two more and yet different Bellmen, one with bell, lanthorn, and bill, followed by a dog; the other (a very rough wood cut) does not give him his four-footed friend. This is the heading to the "Belman's Cry":

Men and Children, Maides and Wives, 'Tis not late to mend your lives:

* * * * *

When you heare this ringing Bell, Think it is your latest knell: When I cry, Maide in your Smocke, Doe not take it for a mocke: Well I meane, if well 'tis taken, I would have you still awaken: Foure a Clocke, the Cock is crowing I must to my home be going: When all other men doe rise, Then must I shut up mine eyes.

He was a person of such importance, that in 1716 Vincent Bourne composed a long Latin poem in praise of one of the fraternity: "Ad Davidem Cook, Westmonasterii Custodem Nocturnum et Vigilantissimum," a translation of which runs thus, in the last few lines:

Should you and your dog ever call at my door, You'll be welcome, I promise you, nobody more. May you call at a thousand each year that you live, A shilling, at least, may each householder give; May the "Merry Old Christmas" you wish us, befal, And your self, and your dog, be the merriest of all!

At Christ-tide it was their custom to leave a copy of verses, mostly of Scriptural character, and generally very sorry stuff, at every house on their beat, with a view to receiving a Christmas box; and this was an old custom, for Gay notices it in his Trivia (book ii.) written in 1715:

Behold that narrow street which steep descends, Whose building to the slimy shore extends; Here Arundel's fam'd structure rear'd its frame, The street, alone, retains the empty name; Where Titian's glowing paint the canvass warm'd, And Raphael's fair design, with judgment, charm'd, Now hangs the bellman's song, and pasted here The coloured prints of Overton appear.

Another ante-Christmas custom now falling into desuetude is the waits, who originally were musical watchmen, who had to give practical evidence of their vigilance by playing on the hautboy, or flageolet, at stated times during the night. In the household of Edward IV. there is mentioned in the Liber niger Domus Regis, "A Wayte, that nightely from Mychelmas to Shreve Thorsdaye, pipe the watch within this courte fowere tymes; in the Somere nightes three tymes, and maketh bon gayte at every chambre doare and offyce, as well for feare of pyckeres and pillers."

These waits afterwards became bands of musicians, who were ready to play at any festivities, such as weddings, etc., and almost every city and town had its band of waits; the City of London had its Corporation Waits, which played before the Lord Mayor in his inaugural procession, and at banquets and other festivities. They wore blue gowns, red sleeves and caps, and every one had a silver collar about his neck. Ned Ward thus describes them in his London Spy (1703).

"At last bolted out from the corner of a street, with an ignis fatuus dancing before them, a parcel of strange hobgoblins, covered with long frieze rugs and blankets, hooped round with leather girdles from their cruppers to their shoulders, and their noddles buttoned up into caps of martial figure, like a Knight Errant at tilt and tournament, with his wooden head locked in an iron helmet; one, armed, as I thought with a lusty faggot-bat, and the rest with strange wooden weapons in their hands, in the shape of clyster pipes, but as long almost as speaking trumpets. Of a sudden they clapped them to their mouths, and made such a frightful yelling that I thought he would have been dissolving, and the terrible sound of the last trumpet to be within an inch of my ears.... 'Why, what,' says he, 'don't you love musick? These are the topping tooters of the town, and have gowns, silver chains and salaries for playing Lilli-borlero to my Lord Mayor's horse through the City.'"

That these Corporation Waits were no mean musicians we have the authority of Morley, who, in dedicating his Consort Lessons to the Lord Mayor and Aldermen in 1599, says:

"As the ancient custom of this most honourable and renowned city hath been ever to retain and maintain excellent and expert musicians to adorn your Honours' favours, feasts and solemn meetings--to these, your Lordships' Wayts, I recommend the same--to your servants' careful and skilful handling."

These concert lessons were arranged for six instruments--viz. two viols (treble and bass), a flute, a cittern (a kind of guitar, strung with wire), a treble lute, and a pandora, which was a large instrument, similar to a lute, but strung with wire in lieu of catgut.

The following is a description of the York Waits, end of seventeenth century:

In a Winter's morning, Long before the dawning, 'Ere the cock did crow, Or stars their light withdraw, Wak'd by a hornpipe pretty, Play'd along York City, By th' help of o'er night's bottle Damon made this ditty.... In a winter's night, By moon or lanthorn light, Through hail, rain, frost, or snow Their rounds the music go; Clad each in frieze or blanket (For either, heav'n be thanked), Lin'd with wine a quart, Or ale a double tankard. Burglars send away, And, bar guests dare not stay; Of claret, snoring sots Dream o'er their pipes and pots,

* * * * *

Candles, four in the pound, Lead up the jolly Round, While Cornet shrill i' th' middle Marches, and merry fiddle, Curtal with deep hum, hum, Cries we come, come, And theorbo loudly answers, Thrum, thrum, thrum, thrum, thrum. But, their fingers frost-nipt, So many notes are o'erslipt, That you'd take sometimes The Waits for the Minster chimes: Then, Sirs, to hear their musick Would make both me and you sick, And much more to hear a roopy fiddler call (With voice, as Moll would cry, "Come, shrimps, or cockles buy"). "Past three, fair frosty morn, Good morrow, my masters all."

With regard to their modern practice of playing during the night-tide, we find the following explanation in an Essay on the Musical Waits at Christmas, by John Cleland, 1766. Speaking of the Druids, he says: "But, whatever were their reasons for this preference, it is out of doubt that they generally chose the dead of night for the celebration of their greatest solemnities and festivals. Such assemblies, then, whether of religion, of ceremony, or of mere merriment, were promiscuously called Wakes, from their being nocturnal. The master of the Revels (Reveils) would, in good old English, be termed the Master of the Wakes. In short, such nocturnal meetings are the Wakes of the Britons; the Reveillons of the French; the Medianoche of the Spaniards; and the Pervigilia of the Romans. The Custom of Wakes at burials (les vigiles des morts) is at this moment, in many parts, not discontinued.

"But, at the antient Yule (or Christmas time, especially), the dreariness of the weather, the length of the night, would naturally require something extraordinary, to wake and rouse men from their natural inclination to rest, and to a warm bed, at that hour. The summons, then, to the Wakes of that season were given by music, going the rounds of invitation to the mirth or festivals which were awaiting them. In this there was some propriety, some object; but where is there any in such a solemn piece of banter as that of music going the rounds and disturbing people in vain? For, surely, any meditation to be thereby excited on the holiness of the ensuing day could hardly be of great avail, in a bed, between sleeping and waking. But such is the power of custom to perpetuate absurdities.

"However, the music was called The Wakeths, and, by the usual tendency of language to euphony, softened into Waits, as workth into wort, or checkths into chess, etc."

Another authority, Jones, in his Welsh Bards, 1794, says: "Waits are musicians of the lower order, who commonly perform on Wind instruments, and they play in most towns under the windows of the chief inhabitants, at midnight, a short time before Christmas; for which they collect a Christmas box, from house to house. They are said to derive their name of Waits, for being always in waiting to celebrate weddings and other joyous events happening within their district. There is a building at Newcastle called Waits' Tower, which was, formerly, the meeting-house of the town band of musicians."

The town waits certainly existed in Westminster as late as 1822, and they were elected by the Court of Burgesses of that city--vide a magazine cutting of that date: "Christmas Waits.--Charles Clapp, Benjamin Jackson, Denis Jelks, and Robert Prinset, were brought to Bow Street Office by O. Bond, the constable, charged with performing on several musical instruments in St. Martin's Lane, at half-past twelve o'clock this morning, by Mr. Munroe, the authorized principal Wait, appointed by the Court of Burgesses for the City and Liberty of Westminster, who alone considers himself entitled, by his appointment, to apply for Christmas boxes. He also urged that the prisoners, acting as Minstrels, came under the meaning of the Vagrant Act, alluded to in the 17th Geo. II.; however, on reference to the last Vagrant Act of the present king, the word 'minstrels' is omitted; consequently, they are no longer cognizable under that Act of Parliament; and, in addition to that, Mr. Charles Clapp, one of the prisoners, produced his indenture of having served seven years as an apprentice to the profession of a musician to Mr. Clay, who held the same appointment as Mr. Munroe does under the Court of Burgesses. The prisoners were discharged, after receiving an admonition from Mr. Halls, the sitting magistrate, not to collect Christmas boxes."

In an article, "Concerning Christmas," in Belgravia (vol. 6, new series, p. 326), we read: "It may not, perhaps, be generally known that, in the year of grace 1871, 'Waits' are regularly sworn before the Court of Burgesses at Westminster, and act under the authority of a warrant, signed by the clerk, and sealed with the arms of the city and liberty; in addition to which they are bound to provide themselves with a silver badge, also bearing the arms of Westminster."

The modern waits have entirely departed from any pretence of allusion to Christ-tide, and play indifferently the last things out in dance music, operatic airs, or music-hall songs; and they act upon people according to their various temperaments, some liking to "hear the waits," whilst others roundly anathematise them for disturbing their slumbers.