The History of Court Fools. Dr. Doran

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СКАЧАТЬ whom was often most effective in bringing about conclusions. The fool often sat near his patron at table when philosophers stood humbly in the background, and courtiers laughed servilely at the jokes, good or bad, made by “Cap-and-bells” at their expense.

      At Courts where several fools were retained, the master of his company felt as much above his followers as an old Drury tragedian above a Dunstable actor. He strutted like a peacock, and thought himself an elephant, when he was only an ass. There was great diversity, however, among them. Ordinarily, a clever lord preferred a clever fool, and the dull lord, who could neither read nor write, found the same sort of retainer a necessity. Thus the fool of merit, according to his profession, was the ablest man at Court; and his superiors in rank were his inferiors in intellect. As Swift remarks, “In Comedy, the best actor plays the part of the droll, while some second rogue is made the hero or fine gentleman. So, in this farce of life, wise men pass their time in mirth, while fools only are serious.”

      Greatly respected as was the privilege of the fool to speak the truth on all occasions, whoever might wince under it, the unrestrained use of such a privilege often brought the merry speaker in danger of cudgel or dagger. There is a story of a fool at a continental Court, in early days, who stirred up all the wrath that could be contained in the heart of the Lord Chamberlain, by so exact an imitation of his voice, and so sarcastic a description of his character, as to excite roars of laughter in every soul in the banqueting room, from the sovereign beneath the daïs to the scullion at the door, waiting for the dirty plates. The angry Chamberlain encountered Sir Fool an hour afterwards, when he communicated to the latter his intention, at fitting opportunity, to see if a few inches of his poniard could not stop the loquacious folly of the other for ever. The merry-andrew flew to his princely master, and sought protection for his life.

      “Be of good heart, merry cock!” said the prince; “if the Chamberlain dares run his dagger into your throat, his throat shall be in a halter the day after. I will hang him as high as Haman.”

      “Ah, father!” cried the jester, “the day after has but promise of sorry consolation in it. He may thrust his knife between my ribs tomorrow;—and couldn’t you hang him the day before?”B

      Some describers of old court manners assure us that there was often more wise and profitable counsel to be found under the cap and bells of the jester, than under many a mantle which hung from the neck of venerable statesmen. Flögel, on the authority of Don Sylvio di Rosalva, says this was especially the case in Spain. It appears to have been also the case in other places, for when a Venetian ambassador, endeavouring to dissuade Louis XII. from making war against Venice, spoke of the wisdom of the Republic, Louis replied, “J’opposerai un si grand nombre de fous à vos sages, que toute leur sagesse sera incapable de les résister.”

      Under another method of expression, Erasmus utters a similar sentiment. He points out that the wisest men have been the worst governors of states; that the greatest orators were the most easily put out of countenance; and that the most able statesmen had fools for their sons. Tully’s son, Marcus, we are told, was a fool, although he was bred at Athens; and the children of Socrates had more of their mother than of their father. Pericles was a great man, but his two sons were known by the unpleasant appellation of Βλιτομἁμαι, or “Boobies.” A similar name, indeed, used to be applied to the whole people of Brabant, of whom it was said, “The older they are, the greater fools they are.”

      As every fashion has its detractors, so the fashion of fools could not escape the censure of those who did not care to be in the mode. The Emperor Henry III., surnamed the Black, could never comprehend the use of a court fool—a licensed scoundrel, his Majesty said, who often obtained for his nonsense rewards that had never properly been showered on the benefactors of mankind. Frederick Barbarossa had an insurmountable dislike for court fools and proud courtiers. Nevertheless he had both about him; and one of the former, on one occasion, did not hesitate to risk his own life, in order to save that of his imperial and not over-grateful master. Several other Teutonic potentates shared in this distaste for the cockscomb wearers—perhaps, because they could not tolerate unpalatable truths; and Christian I. of Denmark once sharply remarked, on a presentation to him of several court fools, that he was not in want of such things, and if he were, he had only to give license to his courtiers, who, to his certain knowledge, were capable of exhibiting themselves as the greatest fools in Europe.

      Fools were free to speak before there was a liberty of the press, or even a press at all. But it was Frederick William I., King of Prussia, who placed his fools under censorship. They dared not speak without thinking, which, time out of mind, has been the privilege of your fool; and if their wit offended against good manners, they ran good chance of a whipping. It was probably to hold the freedom of the sprightly corporation in check that Philander von Sittewald invented and described the Hell of Fools, which he is supposed to have visited. The locality, we are told, was like the cellar of a palace, which was crowded with Zanies, condemned to hear for ever, and to burst with envy at, each other’s jokes. The retribution and the sarcasm are equally severe. The severity of the former is only inferior to that developed in another German idea, whereby, in the next world, all inefficient clergymen are condemned to read all the bad sermons ever printed in this.

      We are not without instances in which the offices of preacher and fool have been exercised by the same individual. In the seventeenth century there was a preacher, named Schwab, at one of the German Courts, who was as much skilled in laying a cloth for dinner as in the construction of his sermons. These were never serious, but they were sometimes long. When the latter was the case, the not too pious Prince would interrupt the preacher in full career, and without waiting for the blessing, would roar aloud, “John, John, get ye down and lay the cloth!”—a command which met with a joke, by way of benediction, and instant obedience.

      John evidently had not the fool’s license of speech, or he might have improved the occasion. And this reminds me of a passage and an illustration in Osborn’s Letters to his Son, which have reference to this very subject, and are well worthy of being quoted. “ ’Tis not dutiful,” says Osborn, “nor safe, to drive your prince by a witty answer beyond all possibility of reply; it being more excusable to appear rich than wise at the prejudice of one in superlative power, who have their ears so continually softened by flattery, as they easier bear diminutions in their treasure, which they look upon as below and without them, than in wit, handsomeness, horsemanship, etc., which their parasites have long made them believe are inherent in them. This, a carver at court, formerly in good esteem with King James (I.), found to his prejudice, who being laughed at by him for saying the Wing of the Rabbit, maintained it as congruous as the Fore Leg of the Capon, a phrase used in Scotland, and by himself here, which put the King so out of patience as he never looked on the gentleman more. The like I have been told of a bishop who, being reproved for preaching against the papists, during the treaty with Spain, replied, he could never say more than his Majesty had writ. ‘Go thy way,’ quoth the King, ‘and expect thy new translation in Heaven, not from me’—meaning he would never better his see. This humour makes these terrestrial gods more auspicious to fools than those Solomon saith are able to render a reason.”

      There are instances, too, where the remark of the wit, or the professional jester, has enlightened while it amused the monarch. We have such an instance in the case of one of the Kings of Persia who wished his people to enjoy the benefits of instruction. Schools were established, and amongst others, the court fool commenced to learn spelling. But we are told that at the very commencement of his progress, at the first junction of syllables and vowels, he opened the Koran, and pointed out to his Sovereign the passage in which Mahomet forbids the payment of impost to the kings of the earth. The fool’s vigilance kept the people in ignorance and under taxation.

      May we not reasonably conclude that there was once considerable dignity attached to the office of fool, seeing that many ancient families bore the insignia of fools in their arms? The chief of these was the family of Briesach, long since extinct; and indeed I only know one house now existing whose crest seems to intimate СКАЧАТЬ