English Protestantism and the King’s Book of Sports

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Like so much of human history, England’s conflict between Protestants and Catholics (and between Protestants and Protestants) was played out against a backdrop of absurdity. That’s not to say it didn’t turn deadly with grim regularity, and at the time I’m sure it all would’ve looked perfectly sensible. Looking back, though–

Yeah, there’s nothing like hindsight. Let’s drop in on one small, strange moment.

The year is 1603. Elizabeth I has died and King James is riding from Scotland–where he’s already king–to London to have all the hocus-pocus of becoming the English king performed over and around him. Along the way he stops in Lancashire, and while he’s there, proto-king that he is, he’s handed a petition complaining that the local clergy and magistrates are keeping people from playing traditional games on Sunday. 

This, my friends, is important. So important that we’ll shift to the past tense.

Irrelevant photo: geranium

Enter the Puritans

The Puritans got their start inside the Church of England, and their goal was to cleanse the church of all traces of Catholicism–the ceremony, the fancy clothes, the incense, the stained glass, the bishops, and pretty much anything else that wasn’t mentioned in the Bible. And since dancing and Maypoles and archery hadn’t been mentioned–

Okay, I have no idea what was mentioned in the Bible. I’d feel safe betting on Maypoles. Dancing and archery? Those look like shakier ground and I won’t be placing any bets. 

But you know how a movement can start out with one clear argument–being or not being in the Bible is surely as simple as a baloney sandwich–and before it’s even lunchtime people are arguing about ketchup and mustard and pickles? And somebody in a fancy suit wants sliced tomatoes and sourdough bread and swears it’s spelled bologna? 

It was like that. Forget that business about the Bible, the rumor was going around that Catholics encouraged games on Sunday in order to keep people away from Protestant church services. Clearly, the only sensible response was to ban the games. Basically, the idea was to close off all other activities so people would come to church out of sheer boredom, although I don’t suppose they’d have made the argument in quite that way.

 

And now, enter James

James was a good audience for this particular petition. (Remember the petition? If not, return to Go and start over.) Several Puritans writers argued that kings who didn’t support the true religion could legitimately be deposed, which isn’t an argument calculated to win the heart of either king or proto-king. Kings were used to deciding which religion was the true one and watching their subjects fall into line.  

So that didn’t go down well. What’s more, there was a good argument to be made that banning sports on Sunday would drive people not to Protestant services but into the arms of–gasp, wheeze–Catholicism, which didn’t object to a bit of fun on a Sunday.

Sunday, remember, was most people’s only regular day off, so why not allow them a little fun. Catholics would positively come flocking to the Protestant cause.

Once James got to the other side of the checkerboard–or, more accurately, to London–and got himself kinged, he issued the Book of Sports, now known as the King’s Book of Sports, since any idiot can write a book but it takes a certain kind of idiot to be king, and people pay more attention to the second kind of idiot than the first. 

I wish I knew the secret of getting as much press as he did.

 

The book

The book wasn’t actually a book. It was a proclamation allowing (after Sunday afternoon services) dancing, archery, “leaping, vaulting, or any other such harmless recreation . . . having of May games, Whitsun ales and morris dances, and the setting up of May-poles and other sports therewith used, so as the same may be had in due and convenient time without impediment or neglect of divine service, and that women shall have leave to carry rushes to church for the decorating of it, according to their old custom.” 

Women, as ever, got to have all the fun. They were specifically left out of archery but were at least allowed to take part in the dancing. And no doubt the ales.

But not everything was allowed on a Sunday. There would be no “bear and bull-baiting, interludes, and (at all times in the meane [or in some versions, “meaner”] sort of people by law prohibited) bowling.” 

If you’re having trouble untangling that list, so am I, but it’s not law anymore so we don’t have to lose sleep over it. Tangled or not, though, it calls our attention to the class aspect of the conflict. The original petitioners were from the gentry–the “well-born” people below the level of the aristocracy but very much above, as James had it, people of the “meane [or meaner] sort.” 

Why was bowling on the list of no-no’s? It had become such a craze that working people were thought to be neglecting the work they should be doing. So it was banned for them. But the nation wouldn’t suffer if their betters neglected their duties to roll balls across the ground, because let’s face it, they weren’t producing anything anyway.

 

And so . . .

. . . merriness was restored to merrie England. (Scotland was still a separate country, which just happened to have the same king, so we’ll leave it out of the discussion.) But let’s not get too merrie, because in justifying his decree James mentions not only the likelihood of attracting Catholics to the Church of England, but the importance of healthy exercise in making men “more able for war, when We, or Our successors, shall have occasion to use them.”

Drink, dance, and be merrie, folks, for tomorrow the king may lead you to slaughter. 

Sorry, I always did know how to spoil a party.

In 1618, James ordered that his proclamation was to be read from every pulpit in the country, but in the face of an uproar from the Puritans, and on the advice of the Archbishop of Canterbury, he withdrew the order. 

His son, Charles I, wasn’t as wise. In 1633 he reissued the decree, with a few additions, and insisted that it be read, tossing matches into an already combustible situation and leading eventually to the Civil War. 

22 thoughts on “English Protestantism and the King’s Book of Sports”

  3. There is dancing in the Bible and most of it was dancing as part of worship. On the other hand, the dancing of Salome brought about the death of John the Baptist, so I can understand that the Puritans might have been ambivalent.

    Englishmen had been required to practise archery after church in the Middle Ages, although that might have changed by this time, and I have no idea what happened to all the saints’ days and religious festivals that used to give them respite. Elizabeth I would surely not have done away with them all; she wasn’t that kind of Protestant.

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    • I think it was the many saints’ days that the puritans were taking aim at when they objected to church ales. But Sunday came around every week–the working person’s one steady and (relatively) frequent day off.

      Thanks for the Bible info. Coming from an irreligious background and having heard that people should know the Bible as part of a background in literature, I did once, in my teens, try to read it. I can’t say I was enthralled. I got to the begats. What I know of books was that you started at the beginning and read from there, so–yeah, that did it for me.

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      • Starting at the beginning of the Bible can work and you could probably skip the begats if you’re just reading it in order to understand literary references. I would also read a modern translation, or even a paraphrase.

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        • At my age, going back to read the Bible is sort of like going back to learn basic math: both are (probably) possible, but since I’ve managed this long without them, I just can’t work up the head of steam I’d need, good ideas that they are.

          And it occurs to me that I probably wasn’t clear about the issues you caught in the first few paragraphs: I have gone back and corrected them. When I said I don’t mind looking like a careless idiot, I meant by leaving your comment visible. I do appreciate corrections.

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  5. Interesting – as usual. Despite my nominal Scottish heritage I still get confused about what ruler had a claim to rule and who got who else beheaded. I tend to fall back on “The Skye Boat Song” when I get discouraged. Your essay helps me grasp a few concepts.

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    • I begin to think that if you’re not confused, you haven’t read enough history of these islands.

      My mother used to sing “The Skye Boat Song” to me as a lullaby. When you start to fill in the bloody history behind it–holy shit, what a song to put a kid to sleep to! Since I didn’t have a clue, I loved it. And probably would’ve even if I had.

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  6. Most archery butts were to be found close by the church, as was the pub. The pubs are still there and although most of the butts have gone, sport longbowmen are still allowed beer on the butts when shooting. Good times!

    As you get older, reading the Bible could be regarded as homework for a final exam! :-)

    Regards, Chris.

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    • It could, but only by those who believe in it. I’m not one of them. It’s a funny line, though.

      If I lived or walked near where people were practicing their archery, I do believe I’d be happier if they had their beer afterwards. Fortunately, I’m a long way from any remaining butts.

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