The answer is plain from a perusal of the following passage from Charles Mackie's Memoirs of Extraordinary Popular Delusions and the Madness of Crowds, concerning Gilles de Laval, Lord of Rays and a Marshal of France, born around 1420.
In his castle of Champtocé he lived with all the splendour of an eastern caliph. He kept up a troop of two hundred horsemen to accompany him wherever he went; and his excursions for the purposes of hawking and hunting were the wonder of all the country around, so magnificent were the caparisons of his steeds and the dresses of his retainers. Day and night his castle was open all the year round to comers of every degree.
He made it a rule to regale even the poorest beggar with wine and hippocrass. Every day an ox was roasted whole in his spacious kitchens, besides sheep, pigs, and poultry sufficient to feed five hundred persons. He was equally magnificent in his devotions. His private chapel at Champtocé was the most beautiful in France, and far surpassed any of those in the richly-endowed cathedrals of Notre Dame in Paris, of Amiens, of Beauvais, or of Rouen. It was hung with cloth of gold and rich velvet. All the chandeliers were of pure gold curiously inlaid with silver. The great crucifix over the altar was of solid silver, and the chalices and incense-burners were of pure gold. He had besides a fine organ, which he caused to be carried from one castle to another on the shoulders of six men, whenever he changed his residence. He kept up a choir of twenty-five young children of both sexes, who were instructed in singing by the first musicians of the day. The master of his chapel he called a bishop, who had under him his deans, arch-deacons, and vicars, each receiving great salaries; the bishop four hundred crowns a year, and the rest in proportion.
He also maintained a whole troop of players, including ten dancing girls and as many ballad-singers, besides morris-dancers, jugglers, and mountebanks of every description. The theatre on which they performed was fitted up without any regard to expense, and they played mysteries or danced the morris-dance every evening for the amusement of himself and household, and such strangers as were sharing his prodigal hospitality. Mountebanks of every description!
Take note: this man is clearly blessed with every material comfort that human heart could desire – including an organ requiring six men to carry it. And what entertainment does he consistently choose to brighten his evenings? Morris dancing.
It is possible that Morris dancing, that archetypal survival of English folk life, was originally ‘Moorish’ dancing, brought to the village greens of England by the wandering strangers [i.e. gypsies]. Thomas Dekker explicitly compares the appearance of the gypsies with that of Morris dancers: ‘Their apparel is odd and fantastic, though it be never so full of rents: the men wear scarves of calico or any other base stuff, having their bodies like Morris dancers, with bells and other toys, to entice the country people to flock about them.’
– Gāmini Salgādo, The Elizabethan Underworld. J M Dent & Sons, 1997. p. 157
They strike up the Devil's Dance withall: then march this heathen company towards the church and churchyards, their pypers pyping, the drummers thundering, their stumpes dancing, their belles jyngling, their hankercheefes fluttering about their heads like madde men.
– Philip Stubbs, The Anatomie of Abuses, 1583