Anyhoo … After all that mad, Marian mayhem along came good Queen Bess with a hey-nonny-nonny and a cacophony of lutes and recorders and all was jolly across the land, at least according to the world of TV costume drama. Things in Norwich Castle carried on pretty much as before, though with less burning enthusiasm than under Mary.
The Famous One, as depicted on the interweb.
Much ado occurred during the long reign of Elizabeth, though not much concerning Norwich or its castle.
Those wishing to know more might consult a multiplicity of movies and TV shows for some hilarious misinformation (albeit with spiffing frocks and beardy men in tights and inflatable knickers), or they might consult academic history books and archives if they actually want to know stuff. Most "popular" history books I find invariably slightly less historically accurate than Blackadder II.
One snippet of historical Elizabethan fact is that Spain beat us three-one at spectacularly failed armadas. They failed first (the famous one), then we failed equally spectacularly the following year (and kept very quiet about it), then they failed twice more before both nations simply rolled their eyes, shrugged and gave it up as a bad job.
"Pray, sirrah, just how do you keep those knickers inflated?"
Elizabeth did turn up in Norwich in August 1578. Just like today when company is expected a panicky house-cleaning got under way [this being written pre-Covid … now that nobody visits I have the joy of wandering the house in my boxers, drinking vodka and binge-watching trash while shovelling junk food down my gullet … It's a dream come true for an Asperger's boy]. First up, the massive mountain of dung and offal that had built up outside Brazen Gate had to be shifted, cart by reeking, dripping cart, over the river to - you've guessed it - the old chalk workings behind our office (again).
The rotting heads, limbs and torsos of executed criminals were hastily taken down from the gates and the gibbets hidden away. All the livestock and feral dogs roaming the streets were penned up or knocked on the head and sold to Mister Skinner and Mister Tanner, the houses and streets along the processional route were repaired, re-plastered, resurfaced and generally pimped to the nines.
Queen Elizabeth and her massive entourage were met at St.Stephen's Gate by the mayor and "sixty of the finest-looking men in Norwich" all decked out (at their own expense) in black satin with yellow and purple detailing.
Alas poor Bess; she was was fêted with theatrical displays, dancing, lengthy and dull speeches and hour upon hour of excruciatingly execrable poetry interspersed with patriotic songs by the Norwich Waits at each and every junction during her ride from St.Stephen's Gate to the Bishop's Palace behind the cathedral. The journey of around a mile took six hours and would have taken longer but for a fortuitous shower of rain which gave the queen the excuse to cut and run and her retinue was spared several more streets-worth of tedium.
No pictorial record survives of the royal visit but as for the poetry, good old Blomefield quotes the whole lot; each and every woeful word should you wish to study the art of the pitifully pompous pæan and discover just why Elizabeth looked so bloody joyless all the time.
Here's a flavour; an amuse-bouche of doggerel if you will (chin up, chest puffed out, one hand on the heart and the other arm flung dramatically out to one side);
"Strong Hercules to Theseus was never such delight,
Nor Nisus to Eurialus as I have in this sight,
Penelope did never thirst, Ulysses more to see,
Than I poor Norwich hungered have, to gain the sight of thee …"
Hour after hour after hour of it. Indeed three whole days'-worth in all. It was as if Pam Ayres had swallowed a copy of Ovid's Metamorphoses and vomited vacuous verse all over poor Queen Bess.
Turns out Elizabethan poetry was not all Shakespeare and Spenser; mostly it was simply awful.
Next time, no more dreadful doggerel but instead some demonstrations of leaping.
Sources:
Acts and Monuments: Foxe: Old Dive's 1621 edition.
The History of the Reformation of the Church of England: Gilbert Burnett: Old Dive's 1730 edition.
Clark's Lives - The Marrow of Ecclesiastical History: Samuel Clark: Old Dive's 1675 edition.
Francis Blomefield: An Essay Towards a Topographical History of the County of Norfolk: Volume 3: The History of the City and County of Norwich: published 1753 to 1775
Lollardy and the Reformation in England: An Historical Survey: James Gairdner: 1908: 4 Vols
Norfolk Museums Service and the Norfolk Archæological Society
East Anglian Archæology Vol. 132: Norwich Castle: Excavations and Historical Survey: 1978-1988: Part II: c.1345 to Modern: Elizabeth Shepherd-Popescu: 2009
Holinshed's Chronicles: 1577: Old Dive's 1808 edition. 5 Vols.
The Printed Plans of Norwich 1558-1840, A Carto-Bibliography: Raymond Frostick: 2002
Norwich Cathedral - Church, City and Diocese: 1096 - 1996: Various Eds. 1996
Norwich Cathedral Close: Roberta Gilchrist: 2005
Norwich Since 1550: ed: Carole Rawcliffe & Richard Wilson: 2004
Norwich - The Growth of a City: Barbara Green & Rachel M R Young: Norfolk Museums Service: 1981
Norwich Houses Before 1700: Vernacular Architecture, Vol 14: 1983
6 comments:
I'm surprised that there's not an annual festival in Norwich involving men wearing black satin with yellow and purple trim reading awful poetry and singing patriotic songs while women dressed as old queen E. get drunk and laugh at them. Oh and I'll do my best to use "amuse-bouche of doggerel" in casual conversation as soon as I can.
That's a brilliant idea, Katie! Next time I'm up at City Hall I'll suggest it.
Our mediæval parades used to have "Snap the Dragon," several examples are still preserved at the Castle … basically a man in a dragon suit with big snapping wooden jaws who chased and tried to bite attractive young women along the route.
These days the Lord Mayor's Parade usually involves gay cowboys in tight pink lingerie and matching hats and recently a rather unfortunately shaped woman dressed in bubble wrap. Your idea would be a great improvement.
Elizabeth loved all that shitty poetry. If she hadn't, she'd have told them all to shut up, then ridden off to her hotel.
It sounds like your office is on some prime real estate.
You're right, Petrea; she really did. She was dining at a house up on Kett's Hill the second day of her visit and overstayed by three hours, The poor sap who was waiting down at Bishop's Bridge to recite to her was so nervous when she showed up that he fluffed his lines and her courtiers laughed at him. She told the to shut up and gently helped the guy through his lines. That's some patient monarch.
And yes, our office is built on an archæologist's dream … cartload upon cartload of mediæval filth. Yay!
I love that story of Elizabeth! It makes me think Judi Dench's portrayal in "Shakespeare in Love" might not have been far off.
There is SO MUCH that I had to leave out to make each talk an hour long. Good Queen Bess was a treasure. I am currently writing a brief aside on one of my passions: Restoration Comedy, that will appear in its due place (actually, I'm trying to do that while watching NASA TV's coverage of Perseverance's HOPEFULLY successful landing on Mars).
Oh, and Judi Dench rules!
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