on the eve of the Christmas
festivities of 1548, as, on, the arm of her boy escort, Sir Robert
Dudley, gentleman usher at King Edward's court, and, years after, the
famous Earl of Leicester of Queen Elizabeth's day, the royal maiden
entered the hall of Hatfield House. And, within the great hall, she was
greeted by Master Parry, her cofferer, Master Runyon, her yeoman of the
robes, and Master Mitchell, the feodary. Then, with a low obeisance, the
feodary presented her the scroll which had been brought him, post-haste,
by Launcelot Crue, the courser-man.

"What, good Master Avery," exclaimed Elizabeth, as she ran her eye over
the scroll, "you to be Lord of Misrule and Master of the Revels! And by
my Lord of Somerset's own appointing? I am right glad to learn it."

And this is what she read:

Imprimis(1): I give leave to Avery Mitchell, feodary, gentleman, to be
Lord of Misrule of all good orders, at the Manor of Hatfield, during the
twelve days of Yule-tide. And, also, I give free leave to the said Avery
Mitchell to command all and every person or persons whatsoever, as well
servants as others, to be at his command whensoever be shall sound his
trumpet or music, and to do him good service, as though I were present
myself, at their perils. I give full power and authority to his lordship
to break all locks, bolts, bars, doors, and latches to come at all
those who presume to disobey his lordship's commands. God save the King.

"SOMERSET."

(1) A Latin term signifying "in the first place," or "to commence with,"
and used as the opening of legal or official directions.

It was Christmas Eve. The great hall of Hatfield House gleamed with
the light of many candles that flashed upon the sconce and armor and
polished floor. Holly and mistletoe, rosemary and bay, and all the
decorations of an old-time English Christmas were tastefully arranged.
A burst of laughter ran through the hall, as through the ample doorway,
and down the broad stair, trooped the Motley train of the Lord of
Misrule to open the Christmas revels. A fierce and ferocious-looking
fellow was he, with his great green mustache and his ogre-like face. His
dress was a gorgeous parti-colored jerkin and half-hose, trunks, ruff,
slouch-boots of Cordova leather, and high befeathered steeple hat. His
long staff, topped with a fool's head, cap, and bells, rang loudly on
the floor, as, preceded by his diminutive but pompous page, he led his
train around and around