The Curfew Bell.

Few points of national history have given rise to so much discussion as the facts and inferences connected with what is known as the curfew law.

The testimony of the various writers on ancient jurisprudence differs widely as to the period at which the law originated, and yet more widely as to the object and intention of those who imposed it upon the people of England. We will first briefly outline the regulation or custom as we find it under the Normans. At eight in the evening, a bell was rung, the sound of which was the signal for everyone to put out, or rather cover, their fires, extinguish all lights, and go to bed. This was the curfew law, which it has been the custom to regard as a repressive measure adopted by the tyrant Conqueror to prevent seditious meetings of the turbulent Saxons. We "find the name of curfew law employed as a bye-word denoting the most odious tyranny, and historians, poets, and lawyers, speaking of it as the acme of despotism, levelled alone at the vanquished English." We will endeavour to show that, on the contrary, the law was in existence and force before the Normans trod the conquered fields of Angle-land, and that its intention was to cherish the good of the country by preventing the rise of conflagrations.

Throughout the north of Europe, in monasteries and towns, a bell for covering of fires was in common use; a regulation which reason cannot but approve, for most dwellings, even those of the higher cla.s.ses, were built, for the greater part, of timber, the Saxon term for building being an expression meaning to "make of wood." We read that London and other towns were frequently subject to fires. In England, the curfew law is said to have been made an established inst.i.tution by King Alfred. When that monarch restored the University which had been founded at Oxford by St.

Frideswide, he ordained, among other thoughtful regulations, that a bell should be rung every night at eight, when all the inhabitants of Oxford should cover up their fires and go to bed. The intention was not that the fires should be put out, but merely deadened. As Mr. Lomax observes, "The old fires were made in the centre of a large hearth, and the acc.u.mulated ashes were swept to the back and sides. At the curfew, the large logs were removed, and the cold ashes raked over the fire so as to cover it. A fire so covered will often keep smouldering for days, and can be re-lighted by adding fuel and admitting air, a most important consideration in the days of tinder-boxes. The same custom is still pursued in the backwoods of America, in the Australian bush, and in our own 'black country,' where the great coal fires are 'raked' in the old fashion nightly."

The word _curfew_ is derived from the old French _carre-feu_ or _cerre-feu_, which afterwards became _couvre-feu_, and lastly _curfew_.

Each of these terms, meaning to cover fire, indicates the intention; and there was a utensil known as the _couvre-feu_, a kind of metal cover, somewhat resembling a shield in form, the use of which was to be thrust over the fire when the bell rang. This probably would only be found in the houses of the wealthy.

[Ill.u.s.tration: COUVRE-FEU.]

King Alfred the Great pa.s.sed away, and all the line of Saxon and Danish monarchs after him; yet probably the curfew, under one or another of its ancient names, was kept up as a national observance in each of their reigns, with more or less laxity. At last the Conqueror came, and after that sanguinary struggle, which had to roughly pave the way for England's advancement, he set himself the task of governing the people he had overcome. Whether he found the law of the curfew still feebly kept up, or whether it had died out we cannot tell, but we know that two years after the battle of Hastings--in 1068--he ordered fires to be covered at the ringing of an eight o'clock bell, and the people to retire to rest. He had probably been accustomed to a similar regulation in Normandy; and it is evident the enactment, however more severely enforced than the Saxons had previously experienced, could not have been purposed as a suspicious and contemptuous safeguard against them, for the haughty robbers called n.o.bles were as subject to the curfew as the meanest swineherds they owned. There seems to have been, from an indefinitely early period, a religious service at eight in the evening. When William, after the injuries received by the plunging of his horse as it trod upon hot ashes, lay dying, the vesper bell of a neighbouring church aroused him from the stupor which had gathered round his sinking mind. He asked if he were in England, and if that were the curfew ringing, and on being told he was in "his own Normandy," and the bell was for evening prayer, he "charged them bid the monks pray for his soul, and remained awhile dull and heavy."

Polydore-Vergil tells us that William, to convert the native ferocity of the people to indolence, ordained that the head of each family should retire to rest at eight in the evening, "having raked the ashes over the fire; and for this purpose a sign should be made through every village, which is even now preserved, and called in the Norman, _cover-feu_." Mr.

Hutchinson, in his "History of Durham," speaks of the curfew with great bitterness: he says that William "under severe penalties, prohibited the use of fire or candles when the curfew bell should ring, to prevent a.s.sociations and conspiracies. This bell was heard by the English as the knell of their departed liberty, and a repeated testimony of slavery."

We learn from Du Cange, that the ringing of the _couvre-feu_, _ignitegium_, or _peritegium_ bell, as it was called in mediaeval low Latin, prevailed generally in Europe during the Middle Ages as a precaution against fire; and this fact is alone sufficient to justify William in reviving and extending the law in this country.

Voltaire, in his "Universal History," ridicules the notion of the curfew being a badge of degradation; he observes that "The law, far from being tyrannical, was only an ancient police, established in almost all the towns of the north, and which had been long preserved in the convents."

And he adds this reason for it: "That the houses were all built of wood, and the fear of fire was one of the most important objects of general police." Throughout the reigns of William I., and his son, William II., the curfew law was rigidly enforced, and, however good its intentions were, the rigour of its administration rendered it increasingly obnoxious.

The politic Henry I., in 1103, wisely repealed the enactment, modifying the law, which, however, though not compulsory, "settled into a cherished custom." Though perhaps no longer as Thomson describes:

"The shiv'ring wretches at the curfew sound Dejected sunk into their sordid beds, And, through the mournful gloom of ancient times Mus'd sad, or dreamt of better."

Yet the weary yeomen would doubtless for a long time welcome the hour that heralded rest. Certainly the name lingered as a dividing period of the day.

Blackstone says (vol. iv., p. 420) that Henry "abolished the curfew, for though it is mentioned in our laws a full century afterwards, yet it is rather spoken of as a known time of night (so denominated from that abrogated usage) than as a still subsisting custom."

Chaucer speaks of it as a time of day:

"The dede sleep, for every besinesse, Fell on this carpenter, right as I gesse, About curfew time, or litel more."

In the _Antiquarian Repertory_, vol. i., p. 4, it is stated upon the authority of Monsieur Pasquier, that the ringing of the curfew bell was a custom long established in particular towns in France, and originated, as he supposes, in times of tumult and sedition. But the earliest instance he gives is no farther back than the year 1331, when the city of Laon, which had forfeited its privileges, was reinstated therein by Philip de Valois, who directed that for the future a curfew bell should be rung in a certain tower in that city, at the close of the day. Pasquier adds, that under the reigns of Charles VI. and VII., it came much into use.

We will now glance over the records of the curfew, as found in deeds, enactments, poetry, and tradition, preserving, as nearly as convenient, a sequence of date.

In the second mayoralty of Sir Henry Colet, knight (father of Dean Colet), A.D. 1495, and under his direction, this solemn charge was given to the quest of wardmote in every ward, as it stands printed in the _Custumary of London_: "Also yf there be anye paryshe clerke that ryngeth curfewe after the curfewe be ronge at Bowe Chyrche, or Saint Brydes Chyrche, or Saint Gyles without Cripelgat, all suche to be presented." Stow may be regarded as corroborating the statement of curfew usage at the two latter churches.

In Stripe's edition of Stow, 1721 (vol. i., b. 3, p. 542), speaking of St.

Mary-le-Bow, it is stated that "The parish clerk's office, belonging to this church, was to ring the curfew bell; as it was to be rung at three other churches in London, at a pretty distance from each other. That, so this notice, all the curfew bells in other parishes might be rung in due season, viz., Barking Church, S. Bride's, and S. Giles's without Cripplegate."

In the articles agreed upon and settled in 22 Henry VIII. (1531), for the guidance of the s.e.xton of Faversham, we read: "Imprimis, the s.e.xton, or his sufficient deputy, shall lye in the church steeple; and, at eight o'clock every night, shall ring the curfewe by the s.p.a.ce of a quarter of an hour, with such bell as of old time hath been accustomed."

In the Middle Ages, so much regard was paid to ringing the _couvre-feu_, that land was occasionally left to pay for it. This feeling appears to have been not altogether extinct, even so late as the close of the sixteenth century, for in Bishop Hall's "Fourth Satire" occurs the following:

"Who ever gives a paire of velvet shooes To th' Holy Rood, or liberally allowes But a new rope to ring the _couvre-feu_ bell, But he desires that his great deed may dwell, Or graven in the chancel-window gla.s.se, Or in his lasting tombe of plated bra.s.se."

In the churchwardens' and chamberlains' accounts of Kingston-on-Thames, occurs the following item:

"1651. For ringing the curfew bell for one year 1 10."

According to the Hon. Daines Barrington, curfew is written _curphour_ "in an old Scottish poem, published in 1770, with many others, from the MSS.

of George Bannatyne, who collected them in the year 1568." It is observed in the notes which accompany these poems, that, by "Act 144, Parliament 13, James I., this bell was to be rung in boroughs at nine in the evening, and that the hour was afterwards changed to ten, at the solicitation of the wife of James VI.'s favourite, James Stewart." This lends some countenance to what might otherwise seem erroneous in the works of the poets and dramatists. Thus, in the old play of the _Merry Devil of Edmonton_ (1631), the s.e.xton exclaims:

"Well, 'tis nine a clocke, 'tis time to ring curfew."

We fear, however, that Shakespeare cannot be held free from mistake and uncertainty in his fixing of the curfew hour. Thus, in _Measure for Measure_, the Duke says:

"The best and wholesom'st spirits of the night Invellop you, good Provost! Who call'd here o' late?

_Provost_: None since the curfew rang."

In _The Tempest_, Prospero says:

"You whose pastime Is to make midnight mushrooms, that rejoice To hear the solemn curfew."

Again, in _Romeo and Juliet_, he seems to advance the time still further.

Lord Capulet is made to say:

"Come stir, stir, stir, the second c.o.c.k hath crowed, The curphew bell hath rung, 'tis three o'clock."

In _King Lear_, we also find the curfew considered a midnight bell: "This is the foul fiend, Flibbertigibbett: he begins at curfew, and walks to the first c.o.c.k."

Instances of land being given for the ringing of the bell are at Mapouder, Dorset, where land was given "to find a man to ring the morning and curfew bell throughout the year," and at Ibberton, in the same county, one acre of land was given for the ringing of the eight o'clock bell, and 4.

for ringing the morning bell.

Macaulay, in 1791, says: "The custom of ringing curfew, which is still kept up at Claybrook, has probably obtained without intermission since the days of the Norman conqueror." In winter, and in flat and dangerous localities, the ringing of the bell in the evening has often been the means of safely guiding and sometimes saving the lives of travellers; and there are instances on record of persons so saved leaving a sum of money for ringing this bell. Such is the story told of a bride who, from an English village, stole out to hide, like another Ginevra, from her friends on the wedding day. The place was near a wide moor, and the girl hid awhile among the furze. When she sought to return, to laugh merrily at the anxious groom and guests, she, alas! took a wrong path, and presently found herself lost on the waste. The shades of night and the shrouding snow fell fast, and the bride had well nigh given herself up to despair, when, hark! the curfew bell! Yes, it is the well-known curfew bell solemnly, and O, how sweetly, pealing from the grey old tower, that overshadowed her home. After being guided to that home by the blessed sound, she presented a chime of bells to the church, and, upon her death, years after, it was found she had bequeathed money to keep up the ringing of the curfew bell for ever.

We may here state that we are indebted for some of the information given in this paper to Mr. H. Syer c.u.ming. He has also kindly favoured us with facts and suggestions for other chapters included in this volume.

The curfew bell may now be said to be one of the things of the past. True, here and there a bell may ring in the evening from the powerful force of old custom, yet all the a.s.sociations of the custom itself are lost; the bell summons us from home, not commands to retire to sleep; the _couvre-feu_ is a rare object of interest in our museums; and now only in the volumes of the poets shall we find that

"The curfew tolls the knell of parting day."

Curious Symbols of the Saints.

Some curious symbols of the saints were carved on ancient clog-almanacks which were in use before the introduction of printing. Even as late as the year 1686, when Dr. Robert Plot compiled his "Natural History of Staffordshire," he tells us that the clog-almanack was "in use among the meaner sort of people." It was largely employed in the northern counties, but Plot failed to trace it further south than the county of Stafford. In Denmark, it was in use in bygone times, and it is supposed to have been introduced into this country by the Danish invaders.

The almanack was usually a square stick made of box or other hard wood, about eight inches in length, and often having a ring at the top for suspending it in a room. It occasionally formed part of a walking stick.

The days of the year are represented by notches running along the angles of the square stick, and in each angle three months are indicated. It will be seen from the picture which forms the frontispiece to this work, that Sunday is marked with a somewhat broader notch than the other days. Its chief interest, however, is on account of representing emblems of the saints, and a few of the more important may be mentioned. On January 13th, is the feast of St. Hilary, and there is a cross or badge of a bishop. An axe, on January 25th, indicates St. Paul's Day. It was with that implement that St. Paul suffered martyrdom. On St. Valentine's Day, is a true lover's knot. For the Patron Saint of Wales, St. David, is a harp. It was on that instrument that he praised G.o.d. On March 2nd, the notch ends with a bough, and it is the day set apart to the memory of St. Chad. It is a symbol of the hermit's life he led in the woods near Lichfield. A bough also appears on May 1st, the popular day for bringing home May blossom. A harvest rake is figured on June 11th, which is St. Barnabas' Day. It denotes the time of hay harvest. A sword on June 24th, marks St. John the Baptist's Day. He was beheaded with that weapon. St. Peter's Day falls on June 29th, and there are two keys shewn in allusion to his being recognised as the janitor of Heaven. On St. Laurence's Day, August 10th, is a gridiron. He displayed firmness and constancy under great suffering.