Sport in History article submission: Robert J. Lake, St. Mary’s University College Real Tennis and the Civilising Process Abstract This article examines the social significance of Real Tennis among the Western European nobility during its heyday of the sixteenth century. Underpinned theoretically by Norbert Elias’s seminal empirical work The Civilising Process, this article seeks to identify the societal preconditions for the emergence of Real Tennis, and provide explanations for its diffusion across Western Europe and subsequent boom in popularity among the nobility. A critique is offered of the current body of literature written on Real Tennis, with an aim to address a general lack of focus on the game’s ‘social’ elements and how their development is linked with structural changes to the game over the centuries. The article then goes on to examine the ways in which Real Tennis became a symbol of prestige and a tool for social mobility among the increasingly status-competitive royal-court nobility. Played during royal festivals, the game provided opportunities for nobles to engage in conspicuous consumption through architectural, clothing and gambling displays; having an entourage in accompaniment to the noble players; and, through the style of play and behavioural control, exhibiting self-restraint and foresight. Overall, an attempt is made to apply Elias’s theoretical framework to aid our understanding of the development of Real Tennis, a game that has never been characterised by overt ‘violence’ of the kind examined previously by other sociologists employing an Eliasian framework. The game of Real Tennis dates back to the twelfth century in France, when it began as a very simple ball game played with the hands. By the sixteenth century, it had reached its heyday and become a rule-governed and highly sophisticated sport. In the course of its development, Real Tennis had been transformed into one of the most popular and socially significant games played among the aristocracy across Western Europe. In the royal courts of this time, noble rank was determined subtly, less through violent means but increasingly by means of conspicuous consumption.[1] Widely played during royal festivals in the sixteenth century, Real Tennis offered players, spectators and others involved in the game with opportunities to enhance their status and convey their social rank. To date, very little has been written to explain adequately its ostensible social significance among the aristocracy of this period. This paper is divided into three main sections in line with three broad aims. Section one attempts to place this analysis in the context of existing historical research in Real Tennis, with the aim of setting out the need for a more critical analysis of the game’s developing ‘social character’. Section two offers explanations for why Real Tennis became socially significant for the aristocracy of the sixteenth- century period. Section three considers the role of Real Tennis more generally in the context of the long-term Western-European civilising process. Existing Historical Research into Real Tennis A number of historians have written in depth about the game of Real Tennis, and their contributions have been profound and influential in numerous ways. In particular, they have uncovered a great deal of information regarding structural developments in the game. It is from both Lord Aberdare and Italian journalist Gianni Clerici that we learn about the ancient origins of ball games, from which early versions of tennis derived; the origins of tennis language and scoring; the evolution of the tennis court, tennis equipment like the racket and ball, as well as the rules of tennis and associated fashions.[2] German historian Heiner Gillmeister analysed ancient paintings, drawings and inscriptions as well as ancient writings and poetry to shed a great deal of light on the ball games played in the early Middle Ages, particularly tennis played in monastic cloisters, from where many of the peculiarities of Real Tennis derived.[3] Roger Morgan’s extensive work was useful in charting how the game diffused across Western Europe. His detailed analyses of ‘jeu de paume’ derivatives are well researched and enlightening, as is his work on similar ball games played away from the royal court by peasants in fields and streets.[4] It is unfortunate for English- speakers that the bulk of primary data regarding the game of Real Tennis is located outside of Britain, and is not written in English. A number of other Real Tennis historians are also to be commended, therefore, for their excellent work in collecting and translating texts written in foreign languages.[5] It is upon secondary sources that most of the research for this present analysis is based. It is regrettable however that most research into Real Tennis has tended to share the same exclusive focus on the structural developments in Real Tennis, i.e. changes in playing equipment, playing areas and courts, tennis fashions and playing rules. This has been to the overall detriment of analyses underpinned by a wider account of historical or social development, and those with the aim to investigate how structural developments are linked with long-term changes in the personality structure of the same people, i.e. analyses into the ‘social character’ of Real Tennis. The latter process is deemed of central importance given the manifest developments during this time of playing styles and etiquette, the increasing expectations of behavioural self-restraint among Real Tennis players and spectators, and the growing importance of the game in the context of broader power struggles among the increasingly status-competitive nobility. Norbert Elias showed quite clearly the connection between long-term changes in the structure of societies with changes in the personality structures of its inhabitants, particularly through the ways in which they came to exhibit greater levels of self-restraint and foresight in their dealings with others in the royal court.[6] It is apparent that the historical development of Real Tennis was part of this ongoing civilising process, from its initial conception as ‘jeu de paume’ in the twelfth century to the more mature and sophisticated game in the sixteenth century. Internal developments in the game were a reflection of these wider social processes and a means by which its players and spectators could enhance their status. It is evident, however, that too few historians of Real Tennis have recognised the centrality of theory in their analyses, either through ignoring the place of theory in their work or by avoiding the use of theoretical frameworks altogether. Much of Roman Krznaric’s work, for example, enlightens us to interesting cultural aspects of the game, how playing styles have developed and the changing role of the club professional over the years, yet his work is not set in the context of wider social developments, nor within any explicit theoretical framework.[7] Indeed, aside from the work of Cooper, to date no research on Real Tennis has been set within a theoretical framework.[8] Cooper’s analysis also employed an Eliasian theoretical framework, with objectives to locate the roots and chart the historical development of the modern sport lawn tennis. Because of the breadth of his overall analysis, however, the section on Real Tennis was narrowly focused on the overall process of ‘sportisation’ evident in its development, rather than on providing a more comprehensive overall account of the game’s social development. In an attempt to shift the traditional research focus towards developing an understanding of ‘social’ developments in Real Tennis, utilising a theoretical framework for analysis, the following questions are addressed in this study: i) What were the necessary societal preconditions for the emergence and expansion of Real Tennis across Western European royal courts? ii) Why did the game become so highly valued for the aristocracy that played it? and, iii) How and why did the game develop a distinct and elaborate code of etiquette that demanded behavioural self- restraint and foresight in decision-making, which came to govern how, where, when and by whom it was played and watched? This paper has as its main aim to answer these questions and contribute new knowledge to these areas. It is asserted here that the game of Real Tennis was more than simply an arbitrary pastime; instead, analysis suggests that the game was socially significant for the aristocracy of the sixteenth century in several ways. Firstly, within the burgeoning culture of status competition that characterised relations within royal courts of this time, Real Tennis was an important status symbol for nobles; opportunities for status enhancement were gained through the style and success of one’s play, styles of clothing and gambling. Secondly, within royal festivals, Real Tennis played a significant part in the expression of conspicuous consumption and status competition between and among host and visiting dignitaries. Thirdly, the codes of behavioural conduct that developed within Real Tennis made a significant contribution to the advancement among the Western European aristocracy of their sophisticated and homogenous code of etiquette, which eventually diffused across the continent. A further aim of this paper is to contribute knowledge to analyses of sport underpinned by Norbert Elias’s theoretical framework of the ‘Civilising Process’. Ostensibly, this paper differs considerably from other ‘Eliasian’ analyses of sport, in that its focus is on a relatively non-violent pastime. This is significant, as in recent years, figurational sociologists have been vociferous in suggesting that the control of violence was of central importance in the development of modern sports. Considerable debate has ensued, particularly among Ruud Stokvis, Dominic Malcolm and Wray Vamplew.[9] Stokvis suggested that ‘the desire to suppress violence was not the prime motivation for the modernisation of folk games’, but Malcolm responded: ‘Social groups sought to demonstrate their superiority, relative to others, through their acceptance or rejection of types and degrees of violence’.[10] Malcolm suggested that researchers should ‘recognise that the desire for standardisation may have taken place in a context of status rivalry and that, according to the empirical evidence available so far, a significant aspect of that rivalry relates to violence and its control’.[11] He found that the control of violence in sport, as part of a code of behavioural conduct, which was regarded as more ‘civilised’, was a fundamental part of how status rivalry between social groups was played out. While Malcolm’s research relates to the development of cricket during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, this finding is important in this present study. Striking similarities can be found in Real Tennis, as the development of its rules, game-play features and behavioural etiquette corresponded closely with the motives of the upper-nobility to exhibit greater levels of behavioural self-restraint and foresight in their interactions with each other, as a form of status demarcation. Thus, the definition of ‘violence’ in this regard is not limited to ostensibly brutal acts, but is broadened to take into account the more subtle yet equally pervasive forms of aggression within codes of behavioural etiquette. All of these types of behaviour exist along the same long continuum. In this way, the theoretical framework of the ‘Civilising Process’ can be fruitfully employed in this present analysis. This paper commences with an investigation into the societal preconditions for the emergence of Real Tennis, and goes on to discuss its role and social significance in the context of wider societal developments. Societal Preconditions for the Emergence of Real Tennis The aims of this section are to discuss the societal preconditions for the emergence of royal courts, aristocratic ‘high culture’ and the behavioural etiquette that characterised relations among Western European aristocracy of the late Middle Ages. This is achieved through the employment of Elias’s theoretical framework found in The Civilising Process and extended in The Court Society, which will help to analyse the wider social context in which the game of Real Tennis emerged and developed. It has been said previously that Elias’s work has been regurgitated perhaps too often in previous papers underpinned by his work, so the intention here is simply to discuss the main features that are useful in this analysis rather than discuss his whole thesis.[12] Specifically, these are as follows: i) the emergence of ‘royal courts’ and the ‘courtisation’ of the warrior knights; ii) the expansion and homogenisation of the Western European upper classes, with shared sensibilities, tastes and cultural expressions; iii) the growth in the cultural significance of royal courts as style-setting centres; and, iv) the development of stringent codes of behavioural conduct, which characterised relations among courtly aristocracy. The heyday for Real Tennis was in the sixteenth century, which corresponds loosely to the era leading up to ‘absolutism’ in the Western European royal courts, when property relations were ossified and warfare was sporadic.[13] From the thirteenth century, royal courts had grown in size and social, cultural, economic and cultural significance to become centres of noble life.[14] A number of wider social processes helped to facilitate the gradual expansion in the function of courts in society. With the emergence of gunpowder from the fourteenth century, kings became too important to risk in battle, so their respective roles shifted effectively from a fighting warrior to a political planner.[15] At the royal court, the king demanded the presence of members from the upper-nobility to help as wartime advisors; a process that Elias referred to as the ‘courtisation’ of the warrior knights. Because of their shifting roles, warrior knights were also encouraged to curb their aggressive fighting ‘instincts’.[16] External behavioural constraints came eventually to be internalised by members of the upper classes; behavioural restraint became a personal duty rather than the responsibility of external social control mechanisms.[17] The process of warrior ‘courtisation’ had the consequence of making royal courts heavily populated, as all ranks of nobility and their families came there in search of wealth, status and subsistence; essentially, opportunities for social mobility.[18] During times of peace, removed from the battlefield, kings led increasingly sedentary lifestyles and they adapted their courts in line with changing demands; they were built more lavish, with entertainment and pleasure central to their function.[19] ‘Castles of the late Middle Ages still had defensive purposes wherever there was danger... but where good order was more regular, the castles... became more luxurious and comfortable than they had ever been before’.[20] Royal courts became places for lords to show off their wealth and power; historian Arthur Dickens wrote of their cultural importance: ‘As centres of power they drew together men of ability, energy and ambition; as centres of privilege they set the standards of society; as centres of patronage they conditioned the development of culture’.[21] One of Elias’s central arguments was that long-term developments in the social structure of societies went hand in hand with changes in the personality structures of the same people. In essence, people’s behavioural predispositions shifted in line with social demands; they were ‘two sides of the same coin’. As warfare became more sporadic from the fifteenth century onwards, there was a concomitant shift in the ways the Western European aristocracy managed themselves and their relations with each other. Ties of interdependence grew between royal courts, initially in matters of trade, but also as the aristocracy moved across Europe in search of employment and education; royal marriages also helped facilitate intermixing. Moreover, courtly aristocracy from other lands adopted a common code of refined manners and language that helped to distinguish them from inferior groups.[22] The aristocracy of different royal courts thus grew closer, and their respective behaviour became characterised with greater trust and cooperation and a measure of courtesy. European societies ‘underwent a transformation, which enforced among their members a slowly increasing regularity of conduct and sentiment’.[23] Stronger relations among the aristocracy helped produce ‘shared sensibilities’, and this was to the extent that ‘social communication between court and court, that is within courtly-aristocratic society, remained for a long time closer than between courtly society and other strata in the same country’.[24] Despite their growing cooperation and interdependence, competition between territorial rulers and between royal courts remained intense; however, it was played out less frequently through violent warfare and more through ceremony and symbolic representations of ‘conspicuous consumption’. Court society had become very hierarchical and, under the influence of the respective ruling monarchs, adhering to codes of behavioural etiquette helped to signify rank, express deference to others and provide opportunities for social ascendancy. While the ruling monarch demanded that relations between all ranks of nobles be ostensibly harmonious and civil, the higher- ranked royalty and nobility, for fear of losing status, developed over time a sophisticated means of social demarcation that demanded, among other things, greater control over one’s behaviour; in particular, there was a greater demand placed on controlling one’s emotional and physical impulses. The growing pressure to exercise self-restraint, argued Elias, stemmed from lengthening chains of interdependence among the upper classes, and governed behavioural interactions between members of different courts and among members of the same court: A new constraint, a new, more extensive control and regulation of behaviour than the old knightly life… was now demanded of the nobleman. These were consequences of the new, increased dependence in which the noble was now placed. He is no longer a relatively free man… He now lives at court. He serves the prince… And at court he lives surrounded by people. He must behave towards each of them in exact accordance with their rank and his own… It is a new self discipline, an incomparably stronger reserve that is imposed on people by this new social space and the new ties of interdependence.[25] For the aristocracy, demonstrating self-restraint suggested worthy noble status, as Elias argued: The pressure of court life, the vying for favour of the prince or the ‘great’; then, more generally, the necessity to distinguish oneself from others and to fight for opportunities with relatively peaceful means, through intrigue and diplomacy, enforced a constraint on the affects, a self-discipline and self-control, a peculiarly courtly rationality.[26] Self-restraint was particularly important when dealing with disputes, and its successful demonstration through asserting calmness and diplomacy during these instances said a great deal about a courtier, his fitness to command and govern, and his suitability among other highly-placed people. Those who were most successful at the royal court were also able to think-ahead, to calculate through foresight the consequences of actions over time. Foresight and calculation were important features in successful political planners, deciding which allegiances and royal connections were worth pursuing and their potential consequences; these attributes became necessary for knights because of their growing interdependency with others at court.[27] Dunning wrote that during the course of the civilising process, people were ‘constrained more and more to abandon the pleasures of unbridled emotional expression and increasingly to seek satisfactions of a longer- term, often more sublimatory, kind’.[28] People at court also became more aware of their rank in relation to others, and subtle methods of status demarcation developed to convey this. Especially within courts, the nobility competed for the spoils of royal favour and sought to outshine each other in numerous ways, for example through styles of dress, personal residence and behavioural etiquette.[29] All nobles were to display particular behaviour according to their social position; ‘their social identity depended on it’.[30] Deference was shown to higher-ranked nobles, while concomitantly expected from those below. It was a reciprocal process, as Elias remarked: In France they saw... people who could parade their status, while also observing the subtleties of social intercourse, marking their exact relation to everyone above and below them by their manner of greeting and their choice of words… In taking over French etiquette and Parisian ceremony, the various rulers obtained the desired instruments to express their dignity, to make visible the hierarchy of society, and to make all others, first and foremost the courtly nobility themselves, aware of their dependence.[31] Elias argued that codes of behavioural etiquette were constantly revised in the royal court, characterised with ‘diminishing contrasts and increasing varieties’; etiquette among the nobility became standardised, yet to remain distinctive it grew in sophistication and overall complexity.[32] This was due to the growing social instability among the nobles as a result of royal court expansion. As lower-level nobles developed opportunities for social mobility, relations became insecure and the power balance unstable; thus, the dominant group were constantly under pressure to modify their behaviour in order to demarcate themselves, to retain their authority. In this way, codes of behavioural etiquette were constantly modified over the years as unintended outcomes of status rivalries among noble ranks. This was largely a ‘blind social process’ that was beyond the control or intentions of any one individual; thus, it appeared as if it had a life of its own.[33] Some authors argued that even the ruling monarch in most cases had little power over its specific development.[34] The vast majority of individuals at court had no choice but to behave according to this established code, as those who disregarded it, treating others indiscriminately, risked being ostracised and losing status themselves. The need to highlight social rank stretched across royal court life, for example through: ‘numbers of servants, clothes, furniture, food, carriages, hospitality, entertainment, and much else that could be described as ‘luxury’ but was to them necessity’.[35] The games played as entertainment for visiting aristocracy were also significant. In this context, Real Tennis was a subtle but important visual, physical and symbolic reflection of power among the aristocracy, providing numerous opportunities to demonstrate or enhance status and rank. The next section deals with the social significance of Real Tennis in the royal courts, the main aim of which is to examine specifically the ways in which it became both a status symbol and tool for social demarcation between ranks of nobility. An attempt is made to locate the game in the context of wider social processes. Real Tennis and the Nobility The game of Real Tennis developed over hundreds of years, and most historians claimed twelfth century France as the time and place where games resembling its rudimentary form were first played. Beginning as a very simple amusement called ‘jeu de paume’, whereby a ball was hit back and forth between players using bare hands, gradually the game became more sophisticated in terms of its rule structure, equipment used and playing areas.[36] Standards regarding these features were passed on orally, and differed from location to location.[37] Jeu de paume was played by all classes of people, but it became popular particularly among the clergy. Played in religious cloisters, evidence suggests that windows, roofs and buttresses were used as playing hazards to make the game more exciting, and to add more complicated and interesting scoring features.[38] From France, the game spread north to the Low Countries, west to England and Scotland, south to Spain and Italy, and also east into Germany, Switzerland, Austria and Bohemia (historically central and western Czech Republic).[39] From around the fourteenth century, the game began to be played and was eventually usurped by the nobility. The clergy had been travelling great distances on religious excursions for many years, thus were influential in the game’s geographical expansion and rule standardisation. ‘Jeu de paume’ was associated with the rituals and the showing of hospitality for travelling clergy. In addition, the clergy also taught the game to the nobility and royalty whom they often visited, and to their respective children with whom they were entrusted at their monasteries.[40] France began as the nucleus for Real Tennis, and this is attributed not only to where the game derived from, but also due to the prominence of France, and specifically Paris, as the model-setting core of burgeoning ‘courtly’ high society. ‘From Paris, the same codes of conduct, manners, taste and language spread, for varying periods, to all the other European centres’.[41] Real Tennis was played recreationally among the aristocracy, but it was when nobles from other courts came to visit, sometimes as part of large-scale royal tournaments, when the game was most socially significant.[42] Real Tennis was part of the lavish entertainment put on for dignitaries, and matches provided opportunities for the aristocracy to show off. Large social gatherings or ‘tournaments’ between royal courts began in the twelfth century, and they provided the aristocracy with some of the few chances to share company.[43] This made them important in the development and maintenance of a coherent European upper class with a shared culture and shared sensibilities.[44] Initially, the main function of tournaments was to provide warrior knights with opportunities to demonstrate their physical prowess in battle-like mimicry.[45] ‘Prowess in war, and those sports which resembled it, along with the ceremonial adornments of combat, were read as tokens of where a person stood in the medieval social hierarchy’.[46] In its earliest days, the ‘melee’ was the central tournament feature, described as ‘a battle-like conflict involving many knights who divided into parties and fought simultaneously’,[47] but this changed gradually to the more ‘civilised’ and rule-governed jousting contest. Dunning attributed this shift to the wider civilising process: ‘Between the twelfth and sixteenth centuries the tournaments underwent a civilising process in the course of which they were transformed increasingly into pageants… that is, they became centrally concerned with spectacle and display’.[48] As battle became less emphasised, their underlying significance shifted.[49] These gatherings were staged on ostensibly friendly terms, but they were underpinned by status competition, of which the activities staged were integral. This was equally for the fighting and mock-battles as it was for Real Tennis.  A number of authors provided evidence to suggest that Real Tennis played a significant role in royal tournaments and festivals, where opportunities to highlight status among visiting nobles were most especially pronounced.[50] One example from Windsor in 1505 is described as follows: It was at Windsor Castle, in 1505, that Philip, Archduke of Austria and King of Castile, played a match with the Marquis of Dorset, attached to the court of Henry VII of England. The account suggests the grandeur of the occasion: King Philip subsequently took his journey toward Windsor Castle, where the king lay, and five miles from Windsor the Prince of Wales, accompanied with five earls and divers lords and knights, and others to the number of five hundred persons gorgeously apparelled, received him after the most honourable fashion.[51] Morgan provided another example, when the Emperor Charles V was entertained on a visit to London in 1522: The Emperor brought with him 200 nobleman and 2000 servants… As part of the entertainments provided it is recorded that the King and the Emperor played tennis at the Bayne against the Prince of Orange and the Marquis of Brandenburg, and on the Prince’s side stopped the Earl of Devonshire, and the Lord Edmond on the other side, and they departed even hands on both sides after XI games fully played.[52] Morgan cited a number of other examples of these occurrences, such as when Henry VIII visited Calais, and then later Boulogne, for meetings with Francois I. During both of these visits, tennis was played as part of the formal entertainment.[53] In 1534, when Francois I and his entourage visited Henry VIII in England, yet again ‘there had been a good deal of dancing and tennis’ as part of the staged entertainment. [54] In 1591, Queen Elizabeth was treated to a game of tennis at Elvetham House in Surrey, whereby: after dinner… ten of my Lord of Hertford’s servants, all Somersetshire men, in a square green court, before her Majesty’s window, did hang up lines, squaring out the form of a tennis court… In this square they played… to the so great liking of her Highness, that she graciously deigned to behold their pastime more than an hour and a half.[55] According to the Dutch Real Tennis Association (DRTA), invariably the game was played away from the formal fixture lists of royal festivals; in order to keep the game exclusive, only select members of the aristocracy were admitted to the court: Visiting dignitaries and their most faithful courtiers were invited on an individual basis to engage in a game of ‘paume’ after they had attended the official events of the programme such as horse races, feats of arms, banquets, concerts and the performance of plays. For the aristocracy, organising a tennis match was a low-profile affair, for which participants and spectators were usually handpicked. This way the elite could indulge in a game wholeheartedly without being observed by a member of the lower orders.[56] While it was regarded as a ‘low-profile affair’, the fact that Real Tennis was only available to those formally invited further attests to its exclusivity and prestige. Evidence suggests that most viewing galleries had space for only a few dozen spectators, so the competition to spectate, let alone play the game, was probably fierce.[57] Perhaps an invitation to a Real Tennis court was a political symbol of solidarity, driven by the forging of loyalties. There were numerous opportunities for those involved with the game to enhance their status through conspicuous consumption. Matches afforded the hosts excellent opportunities to show off the beautiful architecture and craftsmanship of their tennis court to visiting dignitaries, and it is suggested that the rapid expansion in court construction that was witnessed during the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries went hand-in-hand with the developing competition between architectural styles of the Renaissance period. It is important to note that while other features of the game became standardised over the centuries, tennis court construction and design were not standardised to the same extent. Tennis court designers over the centuries were afforded considerable flexibility in terms of deciding on the placement, size and shape of its features, though ‘it rapidly became established that the courts which provided the most pleasure, and the finest tests of skill, were large and equipped with penthouses, tambours, grilles and galleries’.[58] Thus, the design and intricacies of a Real Tennis court were judged in aesthetic terms as well as the extent to which the design of the court facilitated an exciting contest. Morgan cited numerous examples of sixteenth-century tennis courts that were built for ‘architectural effect’; for example, the courts at Prague and St. Germain-en-Laye were built on the sides of gardens and ‘present a façade which is an integral part of the garden design’.[59] Princes from the Renaissance period sought constantly to outshine each other in the sphere of tennis court building. For example, King Francis I of France (1515-47) became: the prime example of the Renaissance king who regarded architecture as the ultimate form of monarchic display. His reign marked an outburst of architectural activity in the Loire Valley and in the Ile de France where new palaces were built, the majority of which were fitted with a jeu de paume. As to the construction of tennis courts, Francis I sought to outshine all his princely rivals, particularly Henry VIII of England.[60] In Italy, the Este royal court of Ferrara was regarded as the ‘model stage for courtly recreation, musical, theatrical and physical’; such was the significance of glamour, elegance and architectural displays in highlighting prestige for its respective courtiers. [61] ‘The spectacles Duke Alfonso II’s tennis professionals staged within the intimate atmosphere of the tennis court were projected as private court entertainment for the Duke’s honorary guests, exhibiting the ultimate form of high culture’.[62] In the royal courts of Spain, evidence suggests tennis was a focal point of attention during royal visits, and Delgado gives the following example that suggests great care was taken in the design of courts within palaces: The municipality of Madrid spent money heedless of the cost to ensure that its monarchs enjoyed their visits to the town, and in order to curry favour with the all-powerful favourite, the Duke of Lerma… the tennis court was restored and, as it lay at some distance from the Palace, even a covered-way was constructed to make communications between the tennis court and the Palace more congenial.[63] Architects were not the only people employed to enhance the status of royal tennis courts; in addition, ‘professionals’ were hired to manage the tennis courts. In France, these men were called ‘maitre paumiers’, and their tasks ranged from scorekeeper or ‘marker’ to masseur.[64] Talented craftsmen were also called upon to design and construct playing equipment, like tennis rackets. Evidence suggests this was taken very seriously, to the extent that in 1457 two guilds formed in Paris to protect and maintain a high quality of racket construction.[65] Styles of dress were also incredibly important as status symbols for all members of court society.[66] Many kings and princes around this time demanded the production of a special tennis costume; for example, Charles I of England was once reported to have ordered from London: ‘4 yards of taby, 2 ells and ¼ of taffety to be a tennis suit, and 2 pairs of garters and roses with silk buttons and other necessities for making up the said suit’.[67] While the types of materials being referred to are unknown, the detail of the order is itself evidence to suggest that on-court appearance was important. The costume of Henry VIII comprised a coat rather like a short jacket or jerkin, made in blue and black velvet, probably worn for extra warmth over his doublet on the way to and from the tennis court, a shirt of the finest texture through which the King’s fair skin positively glowed during the exertion of play, the usual long stockings of the period and shoes with felt soles.[68] Similarly, women’s appearances were scrutinised, despite the fact their association with Real Tennis was invariably as a spectator.[69] It was clear that having an entourage to accompany the Real Tennis playing royalty, including seamstresses, racket manufacturers, markers and masseurs, was an ostensible symbol of power and prestige. Being part of this entourage was also seen as a special honour, offering opportunities for social mobility.[70] Another important status symbol was gambling, and evidence suggests this feature had been associated heavily with Real Tennis since the game’s conception.[71] The moral objection to gambling, and the closely associated vices of drinking, cheating and blasphemy that occurred, was the predominant reason for the enactment of prohibitions against the play of tennis throughout the late Middle Ages.[72] These bans aimed at the laity were numerous, yet gambling was widely accepted and even encouraged among the aristocracy.[73] Betting in Real Tennis became an important part of the game as it grew in popularity, and huge sums of money were won and lost by spectators. To be sure, the feature of spectatorship, and specifically the copious amounts of gambling inherent within this, played a part in the advancement of court design and the introduction of rule changes, such as player handicaps.[74] This was in order to make the game as exciting as possible and to find the correct balance between the extents to which skill or chance would determine the contest outcome. In Italy, gambling stakes were heavily wagered in matches, and several members of the Italian nobility are said to have demanded the best play from their opponents in order to provide an exciting and enjoyable match for spectators intent on gambling. Clerici found that during Duke Galeazzo Maria Sforza’s reign (1444-1476), Real Tennis had become the predominant gambling sport in Italy.[75] Gambling served to make Real Tennis a more exciting spectacle, but it also providing another means through which the aristocracy could enhance their economic and social statuses. It provided a means through which the upper nobility could ‘show off’ their economic security among peers and visiting dignitaries; thus, heavy gambling by the aristocracy was a form of conspicuous consumption.[76] The results of Real Tennis matches were also important, and not only were prizes lucrative,[77] but patriotic fervour was attached to the outcomes of matches between rival courts. The DRTA provided the following example: A victory by his best tennis pro, El Maystreto, over a rival from another court was experienced as a personal triumph ... Galeazzo had gathered the best tennis pros from other Italian courts and demanded top-class performances from them. When in 1473 one of his best players, Arcangelo da Colli, failed to beat his opponent from the Urbino court, he was immediately dismissed.[78] Victories on the court were important, but the actual style of play and performance, adhering to specific codes of etiquette, was of greatest significance. Real Tennis was a sphere in which behavioural self-restraint and foresight could be demonstrated, and this was for the crucial purpose of conveying or enhancing social rank. The following section aims to bring to light how and why this important feature of the game made it so significant in the wider context of the civilising process. Real Tennis in the Context of the Civilising Process For courtiers, exercising behavioural self-restraint and demonstrating foresight in decision-making helped them in their interactions with others at court, and the game of Real Tennis offered numerous avenues for enhancing status through these means. It is clear from several aspects of Real Tennis rules, game-play features and etiquette that the demonstration of behavioural control and foresight were fundamental attributes for a player to develop. Moreover, it is suggested that particular rules and game-play features were developed at least part-deliberately, in order so that its players had opportunities to enhance their status through playing it. It was only natural for the personal requirements of games for courtiers of this time to reflect the requirements of these same people in wider court society. Many Real Tennis writers attested to the general requirement of behavioural self- restraint within the game. Jean Forbet wrote of the need to restraint oneself in swearing and blasphemy,[79] and Louis-Claude de Manevieux wrote that ‘self control’ was needed to be a successful player, as the following passage demonstrates: ‘Players with a phlegmatic temperament are the ones who best judge the ball. Their blood circulates more slowly than it does in excitable people, and gives them more presence of mind in decisive moments. People who are too lively are liable to get carried away by their shots’.[80] In historical texts, mention is made repeatedly of the need for players to be restrained and emotionally-detached in play. Lukin, for example, wrote: If the player once allow his mistakes and disappointments to irritate and disturb his mind; if, what is still worse, he allow the heat of the passion to take possession of him, it can hardly be calculated to what extent his game will suffer… Nothing therefore is more to be avoided in this game, than immoderate bursts of passion.[81] The mastery of skill in Real Tennis was far more important than athleticism. ‘Fitness and speed certainly play a significant part in the game, but subtlety and creative skills are even more important’.[82] Real Tennis evolved over time to limit the extent that physically aggressive play would bring success, and aggression and the neglect of self-restraint generally were seen as going against royal court etiquette. ‘Outbursts of spontaneous rage, or indeed many other strong emotions, were to be avoided at all costs’.[83] Elias suggested that such behaviour had consequences within the royal court environment, as the following passage shows: Affective outbursts… reveal the true feelings of the person concerned to the degree that, because not calculated, can be damaging; they hand over trump cards to rivals for favour and prestige. Above all, they are a sign of weakness, and this is the position the court person fears most of all. In this way, the competition of court life enforced a curbing of the affects in favour of calculated and finely shaded behaviour in dealing with people. The structure of social life within this figuration left relatively little room for spontaneous expressions of feeling.[84] It is evident that behavioural displays of this type were also unacceptable in the games played by these same people in the royal courts. In Real Tennis, the playing of a ‘chase’ is a prime example of a rule that emerged to serve a specific social function; it encapsulated the necessities of self-restraint and foresight as a game tactic. For a player to win a point in Real Tennis, his ball must either land in one of the scoring galleries or he must win a chase. A chase is set when a player fails to return a ball, and it bounces twice on the floor. A mark is made where it landed on the second bounce and, at this moment, the players swap ends. The object for the opponent now is to get the ball on the second bounce to land nearer to the back wall. If successful, he is said to have effectively ‘defended the chase’, and retains the point. Shots that were too aggressive would make for poor play; balls would rebound heavily off the back wall and make it easier for opponents to hit, or make for a very poor chase. Thus, a number of authors have attested to the incredible skill and precision needed to be a successful chase player. Reilly wrote: ‘The chase introduced a strategic element virtually unknown in any other sport, and can reward a patient, thoughtful and precise player over the more athletic but less subtle opponents’.[85] Aberdare agreed, stating: ‘The chase… adds a very special skill to the game and favours finesse against brute force’.[86] The emergence of the chase undoubtedly helped make the game more popular for players and spectators alike. For gamblers, chases also offered excellent opportunities to place wagers. The emergence of the chase was therefore important in a sociological sense, as it signified a period from when players and even spectators were required to exercise self-restraint and foresight to achieve success. The earliest recorded account of the chase was as late as the fifteenth century, which suggests that the process of its conception and development was in tandem with the game’s increasing sophistication and social significance. Like the sport of lawn tennis, the serve in Real Tennis is used as a weapon. However, a successful service in the latter is not dependant so much, if at all, on power or brute force. With regard to the art of serving, Krznaric wrote: Spin and accuracy are more important than speed. The strategic thinking required to choose the appropriate serve, combined with the skill needed to master the variety of serving techniques and the sheer beauty of the different ways the ball arcs through space, transforms serving in tennis into an art form.[87] To master the game of Real Tennis, players would have been required to plan every shot carefully and think many moves ahead; thus, a number of authors have likened the game to chess.[88] The DRTA agreed: ‘The tennis player who is able to think ahead will always have the edge over one who relies on pure athleticism’, and Moss added: ‘A lifetime was needed, it was said, to learn all the complicated rules and skills, for the galleries, the buttress, and other holes and tunnels in various parts of the penthouse led to difficulties at every turn’.[89] In these respects, foresight and calculation were favourable attributes for a Real Tennis player, much like behavioural self-restraint. One was able to communicate these attributes on the court, and Henricks suggested that success only had meaning if behavioural etiquette was upheld, as its disregard would have made for a false victory: ‘The player not only tries to win; he tries to win in a courteous or socially graceful manner’.[90] Self-restraint and foresight were thus fundamental features of sportsmanship and etiquette. In his Real Tennis treatise, Antonio Scaino wrote numerous points of playing etiquette to be observed. He made specific mention of how to deal with settling disputable points, interruptions in the game, calling off the game unexpectedly, miscounting the score and claiming false victory, appointing a suitable judge and questioning a judge’s decision.[91] On the last point, Scaino remarked: The judge having at last given his verdict on the events of the game, those players who have adequately stated their reasons will keep quiet and not even utter a word in contradiction, although the verdict given may seem to them unjust. Too ugly and shameful a thing were if indeed shouldst thou player wish to cry out against the verdict of him whom thou hast voluntarily chosen to be a judge of thine actions.[92] Scaino also wrote etiquette recommendations to those intent on travelling to play in other courts, and suggested: Anyone going to play in foreign parts… will be very careful always to enquire of the inhabitants of the place where he is going to play whether there is… any particular or unusual rule and will diligently learn all thereabout it so as not to fall unawares into some error from which he would be unable to retrieve himself. For ignorance in such cases, albeit understandable, finds no forgiveness.[93] The detail given to these points suggests the extent to which upholding respect for the referee and host players was entrenched within the game’s formative rule structure, as aspects of sportsmanship demanding self-restraint and foresight. Sportsmanship also stretched to spectators, as off-court performances ‘in the dedans’ were judged according to stringent standards of expected behaviour. Marshall wrote of spectator etiquette, as follows:  The dedans of a tennis court is not intended for the use of any but those who are interested in Tennis in general, and the actual game in particular, except the conduct of those who, with the worst taste, sit there to make personal remarks on the players… The spectators should never venture to give counsel or opinion of any sort.[94] Guttmann wrote that Real Tennis spectators should sit in ‘utter and complete silence’ until the appropriate time to cheer and, generally, the behaviour of spectators was regulated so as not to cause offence or disrupt play.[95] Although the writings of Forbet, Scaino and others defined what to expect on the court, the increasing internal control of emotions became more central to the survival of the game for the aristocracy. Thus, it can be seen how this important element in Elias’s research was demonstrated in the development of Real Tennis throughout history. The demand for internally-regulated behavioural conduct on court helped the game remain at the forefront of aristocratic high-culture. During this time when social relations were highly contested among the upper-classes, the continual modification of etiquette in the general direction of increasing sophistication and complexity helped the upper nobility to distinguish themselves from lower orders. Conclusion The main aim of this paper was to offer a point of departure towards a critical investigation into the social significance of Real Tennis among the Western European nobility of the sixteenth century. The analysis began by setting out the historical preconditions for its emergence, commencing with the process of warrior ‘courtisation’ and the unintended consequences of this on relations between members of courtly nobility. Courtiers were required to adhere to strict codes of behavioural etiquette, which stressed the expression of rank and forced the enactment of deferential treatment among all nobles. The abilities of demonstrating self-restraint and exercising foresight in decision-making were personal characteristics that did much to define one’s social position at court in relation to others. The game of Real Tennis was significant in both of these respects because its rules and game-play features came to require of its participants inordinate amounts of behavioural restraint. Successful play was, of course, not only determined and judged by the score-line but by the fluidity of the strokes, the styles of shot and their appropriate selection, and the tactics adopted for scoring points and winning matches. Above all, Real Tennis was judged to be a ‘civilised’ game, and it developed into a vehicle through which nobles could demonstrate these character traits and assert their social superiority over others. Several of Elias’s empirical findings and theoretical ideas helped to explain certain aspects of Real Tennis development during the late Middle Ages. Fundamental features of the game such as the chase and the serve developed within a dominant ideology stressing behavioural-restraint and foresight requirements. Real Tennis thus played a not insignificant role in the long-term Western-European civilising process; the game was a tool for courtly nobility to demarcate themselves from socially inferior groups, both within their royal court and in relation to other royal courts. As struggles between royal courts were fundamental developments in the process of nation-state formation during this time, it is suggested that Real Tennis can claim at least some significance in this important phase in history. There is an explicit hope that this paper can add fruitfully to the stock of literature on Real Tennis history, providing a more critical analysis of the game’s ‘social character’. There is more research to be done to examine how structural developments in the game are linked to ‘social’ developments that are related to changing personality structures of the players, and this present paper has the modest ambition of being a point of departure for future analyses of these kinds. It is also hoped that this analysis of Real Tennis, underpinned by the theoretical insights of Elias, can help shed some light on the sport of lawn tennis, a game derived primarily both structurally and socially from Real Tennis in the late nineteenth century; the broad aim being to understand some of the etiquette or behavioural features of lawn tennis upon its conception. It is hoped also that this study provided a good example of how Elias’s work on the ‘Civilising Process’ can be successfully applied as a framework to help understand the development of a sport not overtly characterised by violence. It is hoped that future historical analyses into the broad area of behavioural control in sport, particularly those by figurational sociologists, are not limited merely to sports and games characterised ostensibly with violence and brutality. It is important also that, as historians and sociologists, we broaden our understandings of violence control to aid our understandings of the development of non-contact sports. Notes [1] Norbert Elias, The court society (Oxford, 1969). [2] See Lord Aberdare, The story of tennis (London, 1959); Lord Aberdare, The royal and ancient game of tennis (London, 1977); Lord Aberdare, The Willis Faber book of tennis and rackets (London: 1980); Lord Aberdare, ‘The origins of tennis’ in Lance Butler and Peter Wordie eds., The royal game. (Kippen, 1989); Gianni Clerici, The ultimate tennis book: 500 years of the sport (Chicago, 1975). [3] See Heiner Gillmeister, ‘History of tennis’, Stadion: Journal of the History of Sport and Physical Education, 3 (2) (1977), pp. 187-229; Heiner Gillmeister, ‘Medieval sport: modern methods of research - recent results and perspectives’, International Journal of the History of Sport, 5 (1) (1988), pp. 53-68; Heiner Gillmeister, Tennis: A cultural history, (Leicester, 1997). [4] Roger Morgan, ‘Timber tennis courts of the sixteenth century’, International Journal of the History of Sport, 6 (3) (1989), pp. 378-88; Roger Morgan, ‘The Silver Ball of Rattray: A note on an early form of tennis’, International Journal for the History of Sport, 8 (3) (1991), pp. 420-25; Roger Morgan, Tennis: The development of the European ball game (Oxford, 1995);  Roger Morgan, ‘A fifteenth century tennis court in London’, International Journal for the History of Sport, 13 (3) (1996), pp. 418-31. [5] Pierre Barcellon, Rules and principles of tennis (Oxford, 1800/1987); David Best, The royal tennis court. (Oxford, 2002); Albert de Luze, History of the royal game of tennis (Kineton, 1933); Dutch Real Tennis Association, The royal game of tennis, from www.real-tennis.nl; Robert Henderson, Ball, Bat and Bishop: The Origin of Ball Games, (New York, 1947); Greg Hoffman, The art of world team tennis. (San Francisco, 1977); Henry Johns, The early history of Real Tennis, from www.real-tennis.com/history/main.html; Julian Marshall, The annals of tennis (London, 1878); Evan Noel and James Clark, A history of tennis (London, 1924/1991); Malcolm Whitman, Tennis: Origins and mysteries (New York, 1932). [6] Norbert Elias, The civilising process (Oxford, 1939). [7] Roman Krznaric, The first beautiful game: Stories of obsession in Real Tennis (Oxford, 2006). [8] Ian Cooper, ‘Game, set and match: A developmental study of tennis, with particular reference to lawn tennis’ (Unpublished MA dissertation, Leicester, 1995). [9] See Dominic Malcolm, ‘Cricket and civilising processes: A Response to Stokvis’, International Review for the Sociology of Sport, 37 (1) (2002), pp. 37-57; Dominic Malcolm, ‘The emergence, codification and diffusion of sport: Theoretical and conceptual issues’, International Review for the Sociology of Sport, 40 (2005), pp. 115-18; Dominic Malcolm, ‘A response to Vamplew and some comments on the relationship between sports historians and sociologists of sport’, Sport in History, 28 (2) (2008), pp. 259-79; Ruud Stokvis, ‘Sports and civilisation: Is violence the central problem?’, in Eric Dunning and Chris Rojek, eds., Sport and leisure in the civilising process: Critique and counter-critique, (Basingstoke, 1992), pp. 121-36; Ruud Stokvis, ‘The civilising process applied to sports: A response to Dominic Malcolm: Cricket and civilising processes’, International Review for the Sociology of Sport, 40 (2005), pp. 111-14; Wray Vamplew ‘Empiricist versus sociological history: Some comments on the ‘civilising process’’, Sport in History 27 (2) (2007), pp. 161-171. [10] Stokvis, ‘A response’, p. 113; Malcolm, ‘The emergence’, p. 116 [11] Ibid., p. 116. [12] See Malcolm, ‘A response’. [13] Elias, Civilising process; Michael Kimmel, Absolutism and its discontents: State and society in seventeenth-century France and England (New Brunswick, NJ, 1988). [14] Jonathon Dewald, The European nobility 1400-1800 (Cambridge, 1996). [15] Ibid. [16] Elias, Civilising process. [17] Ibid. [18] Dewald, European nobility; Elias, Civilising process; Denys Hay, Europe in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries (London, 1989). [19] Sydney Anglo, ‘The courtier: The Renaissance and changing ideals’, in Arthur Dickens, ed., The courts of Europe: Politics, patronage and royalty 1400-1800. (London, 1977), pp. 33-53; Elias, Civilising process. [20] Hay, Europe, p. 67. [21] Dickens, Courts, p. i. [22] Elias, Civilising process. [23] Norbert Elias, ‘An essay on sport and violence’, in Norbert Elias and Eric Dunning, eds., Quest for excitement (Oxford, 1986), p. 151. [24] Dewald, European nobility; Elias, Civilising process, p. 190. [25] Ibid., p. 182. [26] Ibid., p. 190. [27] Elias, Civilising process. [28] Eric Dunning, Sport matters (London, 1999), p. 28. [29] Elias, Court society. [30] Mennell, Introduction, p. 83. [31] Elias, Civilising process, p. 189. [32] Elias, Civilising process; Elias, Court society. [33] Elias, Civilising process. [34] Kimmel, Absolutism; Roger Mettam, Power and faction in Louis XIV's France, (New York, 1988). [35] Mennell, Introduction, p. 83. [36] See Henderson, Ball, Bat and Bishop; Brian Jewell, Sport and games: History and origins (Kent, 1977); Whitman, Tennis. [37] Norman Wymer, Sport in England (London, 1949). [38] See the following work for more information regarding the ball games played by clergy in the Middle Ages: Aberdare, Willis Faber; Clerici, The ultimate; Cooper, ‘Game, Set and Match’; John Crace, A little history of tennis (Belfast, 1997); de Luze, History; Gillmeister, Tennis; Jack Groppel, Principles of tennis (Illinois, 1980); Harold Harris, Sport in Britain: Its origins and development (London, 1975); Henderson Ball, Bat and Bishop; Frank Menke, The encyclopaedia of sports (London, 1969); Gary Schwartz, The art of tennis 1874-1940 (California, 1990); Whitman, Tennis. [39] Aberdare, Willis Faber; de Luze, History; DRTA, Royal Game; Hoffman, Art; Morgan, Tennis. [40] Aberdare, Willis Faber; DRTA, Royal Game; Gillmeister, Tennis. [41] Elias, Civilising process, p. 189. [42] Morgan, Tennis. [43] Dunning, Sport matters; Stephen Hardy, ‘The medieval tournament: a functional sport of the upper class’, Journal of Sport History 1 (1) (1974), pp. 91-115; Thomas Henricks, ‘Sport and social hierarchy in medieval England’, Journal of Sport History, 9 (2) (1982), pp. 20-37; Rühl, ‘German tournament regulations of the 15th century’, Journal of Sport History, 17 (2) (1990), pp. 163-82. [44] Dewald, European nobility. [45] Richard Barber, The knight and chivalry, (London, 1970); Hardy, ‘Medieval tournament’; Henricks, ‘Sport’; Johan Huizinga, Homo ludens: A study of the play element in culture (London, 1949). [46] John Sugden and Alan Tomlinson, ‘Theorising sport, class and status’, in Jay Coakley and Eric Dunning eds., Handbook of sports studies. (London, 2000), p. 311. [47] Hardy, ‘Medieval tournament’, p. 92. [48] Dunning, Sport matters, p. 50. [49] Barber, Knight. [50] DRTA, Royal game; Gillmeister, Tennis; Krznaric, The first; Morgan, Tennis; Whitman, Tennis. [51] Whitman, Tennis, p. 49. [52] Morgan, Tennis, p. 177. [53] Ibid. [54] Ibid., p. 179. [55] Ibid., p. 166. [56] DRTA, Royal game. [57] Morgan, Tennis. [58] Chris Ronaldson, Tennis: A cut above the rest, (Oxford, 1985), p. 1. A penthouse is a short sloping roof that sits about eight feet up and goes three-quarters of the way around the court, onto which a serve is played. A tambour is a jut in the wall on the receiving end that sticks out and, when hit, causes the ball to rebound at difficult angles. The grille is a small hole in the back wall of the receiving end that when hit into scores a winning point. The galleries are small windows along the side of the court below the penthouse that when hit into scores a winning point. [59] Morgan, Tennis, p. 140. [60] DRTA, Royal game. [61] Ibid. [62] Ibid. [63] Juan Delgado, Historia de la villa y corte de Madrid, 1860-1884 (Madrid, 1978). [64] Aberdare, Willis Faber; de Luze, History; Krznaric, The first; Morgan, Tennis; Ronaldson, Tennis. [65] de Luze, History. [66] Dewald, European nobility. [67] Aberdare, Willis Faber, p. 55. [68] Valerie Warren, Tennis fashions: Over 100 years of costume change (London, 1993), p. 1. [69] de Luze, History, p. 30; Krznaric, The first. [70] Marshall, Annals. [71] Teresa McLean, The English at play in the Middle Ages, (Windsor Forest, 1983); Morgan, 1995. [72] For more detail regarding royal and religious prohibitions against the playing of tennis, see Aberdare, Willis Faber; Clerici, The ultimate; de Luze, History; Gillmeister, Tennis; Morgan, Tennis; Noel and Clark, A history; Whitman, Tennis. [73] John Ashton, The history of gambling in England, (London, 1968); Roger Munting, ‘Social opposition to gambling in Britain: An historical overview’, International Journal for the History of Sport, 10 (3), (1993), pp. 295-312. [74] Krznaric, The first. [75] Clerici, The ultimate. [76] Hay, Europe; Munting, ‘Social opposition’; Wray Vamplew, Pay up and play the game: Professional sport in Britain, 1875-1914, (Cambridge, 1988). [77] Morgan, ‘Silver Ball’. [78] DRTA, Royal game. [79] Jean Forbet, L’ordannance du royal et honorable jeu de la paume (1592), Translated by Albert de Luze (Paris, 1933). [80] Louis-Claude de Manevieux, Traite sur la connoissance du royal jeu de paume, et des principles. (1783), Translated by Richard Travers (Melbourne, 2004), p. 29. [81] Robert Lukin, A treatise on tennis, (London, 1822), p. 82-3. [82] DRTA, Royal game. [83] Mennell, Introduction, p. 86. [84] Elias, Court society, p. 111. [85] Sheila Reilly, The royal and ancient game of tennis (Paper presented at the Tennis Collectors’ Society, London, 1998), p. 4. [86] Aberdare, ‘The origins’, p. 14. [87] Krznaric, The first, p. 17. [88] Allison Danzig, The royal and ancient game of tennis, (New York, 1997); Gillmeister, Tennis, p. 40; Jack Jennings, ‘Real’ tennis, anyone? Yankee, 64 (3) (2000), p. 52; Lukin, Treatise; Katherine McNicoll, Real Tennis (Buckinghamshire, 2005). [89] DRTA, Royal game; Peter Moss, Sport and pastimes through the ages, (London, 1962), p. 58. [90] Henricks, ‘Sport’, p. 33. [91] Antonio Scaino, Trattato del giuoco della palla (1555), Translated by Anthony Negretti (London, 1984). [92] Scaino, Trattato, p. 85. [93] Ibid., p. 85. [94] Marshall, Annals, p. 206. [95] Allen Guttmann, Sports spectators, (New York, 1986), p. 97.