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CHRISTMAS AND His CHILDREN.
Some say; thatever 'gainst that season comes
Wherein our Sa-vioar's "birth, is celebrated.
This "bird. 'of cljcwnrng sixigeth. aHmghtlong .
BOSTON :
ROBERTS BROTHERS.
1888.
THE
BOOK OF CHRISTMAS;
DESCRIPTIVE OF THE
CUSTOMS, CEREMONIES, TRADITIONS,
SUPERSTITIONS, FUN, FEELING, AND FESTIVITIES OK
Clmstmas Reason.
BY THOMAS K. HERVEY.
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY R. SEYMOUR.
Galantee Show.
BOSTON:
ROBERTS BROTHERS.
1888.
Sntbrrsttg ^irtss :
JOHN WILSON AND SON, CAMBRIDGE.
CONTENTS.
PAGE
INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER 7
Part / iwt.
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON 29
Mingled Origin of the Christmas Festival ; Good Cheer
of the Ancient Festival ; Court Celebrations of Christ-
mas ; Celebrations at the Inns of Court ; Lord of
Misrule and Christmas Prince ; Abbot of Unreason ;
Influence of the Festival on the Social Relations ; Ben
Jonson's Masque of Christmas ; Father Christmas
summoning his Spirits ; Extinction of the Ancient
Festival ; Partial Revival ; Summary of the Causes of
its final Decline.
FEELINGS OF THE SEASON 134
Religious Influences ; Assembling of Friends ; Church
Services of the Season ; lengthened Duration of the
Festival ; Memories of the Season ; Natural Aspects of
the Season.
SIGNS OF THE SEASON 157
Domestic Preparations ; Mince Pie ; Travellers on the
Highways ; coming Home from School ; Norfolk Coach ;
Evergreens for Christmas Decoration ; Kissing under
the Mistletoe; Christmas Minstrelsy; Waits; Carol
Singing ; Christmas Carols ; Annual Carol Sheets ;
London Carol Singers ; Bellman.
fart $econti.
THE CHRISTMAS DAYS 223
ST. THOMAS'S DAY 225
Various Country Customs on this day ; St. Thomas's
Day in London ; City Parochial Elections ; Lumber
Troop and other City Associations.
IV CONTENTS.
PAGE
SPORTS OF THIS SEASON 233
Ancient Jugglers; Galantee Show; Card Playing; An-
cient Bards and Harpers ; Modern Story-telling and
Music ; out-door Sports of the Season ; Theatre and
Pantomime ; Mummers ; Play of St. George.
CHRISTMAS EVE 267
London Markets on Christmas Eve; the Yule-clog;
Christmas Candles ; Wassail Bowl j Omens and Super-
stitions ; Old Christmas Eve ; Midnight Mass.
CHRISTMAS DAY 285
Religious Services ; Plum Pudding ; Charities of the
Season; Old English Gentleman.: Ancient Baronial
Hall ; Bringing in the Boar's Head ; Modern Christ-
mas Dinner.
ST. STEPHEN'S DAY 302
Boxing Day (origin of the name) ; Christmas-boxes ;
Christmas Pieces ; Hunting the Wren (Isle of Man) ;
Droleens, or Wren Boys (Ireland); Greek Songs of
the Crow and Swallow.
NEW YEAR'S EVE 315
Scottish Observances; Night of Omens; Hogmanay;
Seeing-in the New Year.
NEW YEAR'S DAY 335
Morning Congratulations ; New-Year's Gifts.
TWELFTH DAY AND TWELFTH NIGHT 339
Observances on the Virgil of the Epiphany ; Humors of
the Street; Twelfth Night Party; Twelfth Cake;
Drawing for Characters ; Three Kings of Cologne.
SAINT DISTAFF'S DAY 351
Rustic Sports.
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
PAGE
CHRISTMAS AND HIS CHILDREN .... Frontispiece
THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS Titlepage
" MERRY CHRISTMAS TO YOU " 29
SNAP-DRAGON 31
BARONIAL HALL 4 2
ENJOYING CHRISTMAS 46
MUMMERS 65
GATE OK THE " OLD ENGLISH GENTLEMAN " . . 109
FAMILY CONGRATULATION 134
COUNTRY CAROL SINGERS 157
COMING HOME FROM SCHOOL 163
NORFOLK COACH AT CHRISTMAS . 170
TOO LATE FOR THE COACH 1 72
BRINGING HOME CHRISTMAS 173
THE MISTLETOE BOUGH 191
WAITS 197
LONDON CAROL SINGERS 215
BELL-RINGING , 219
VI LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
PAGE
THE LORD OF MISRULE 223
CHRISTMAS PRESENTS 224
ST. THOMAS'S DAY . . . . 233
STORY TELLING 239
CHRISTMAS PANTOMIME 249
GALANTEE SHOW 266
MARKET CHRISTMAS EVE 267
WASSAIL BOWL , 275
OLD CHRISTMAS 285
CHRISTMAS PUDDING 286
COUNTRY CHURCH, CHRISTMAS MORNING .... 290
BRINGING IN THE BOAR'S HEAD 295
CHRISTMAS DINNER 300
BOXING DAY 302
SEEING-IN THE NEW YEAR 331
TWELFTH NIGHT KING 339
TWELFTH NIGHT IN LONDON STREETS 343
TWELFTH NIGHT 347
RETURNING TO SCHOOL 355
THE
BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER.
We take no note of time
But from its loss ; to give it, then, a tongue
Is wise in man.
DR. YOUNG.
To give a language to time, for the preservation of
its records and the utterance of its lessons, has been
amongst the occupations of man from the day when
first he found himself in its mysterious presence
down to these latter ages of the world ; and yet,
all the resources of his ingenuity, impelled by all
the aspirations of his heart, have only succeeded
in supplying it with an imperfect series of hiero-
glyphics, difficult in their acquirement and uncertain
in their use. Ages upon ages of the young world
have passed away, of which the old hath no chron-
icle. Generations after generations of men have
" made their bed in the darkness," and left no
monuments. Of the crowded memorials reared by
others along the stream of time, many (and those
8 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
the mightiest) are written in a cipher of which
the key is lost. The wrappings of the mummy are
letters of a dead language ; and no man can trans-
late the ancient story of the pyramid !
We have learnt to speak of time, because it is
that portion of eternity with which we have presently
to do, as if it were a whit more intelligible (less
vague, abstract, and unimaginable) than that eter-
nity of which it is a part. He who can conceive of
the one, must be able to embrace the awful image
of the other. We think of time as of a section
of eternity, separated and intrenched by absolute
limits; and thus we seem to have arrived at a
definite idea, surrounded by points on which the
mind can rest. But when the imagination sets out
upon the actual experiment, and discovers that
those limits are not assignable, save on one only
side, and finds but a single point on which to rest
its failing wing, and looks from thence along an
expanse whose boundaries are nowhere else within
the range of its restricted vision, then does the
mortal bird return into its mortal nest, wearied with
its ineffectual flight, and convinced that a shoreless
ocean and one whose shores it cannot see are alike
formless and mysterious to its dim and feeble gaze.
And yet notwithstanding the connection of these
two ideas, of time and of eternity, (the notion
of the former being only reached through the latter)
we deal familiarly, and even jestingly, with the
one, while the mind approaches the other with
INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 9
reverential awe. Types, and symbols, and emblems
and those ever of a grave meaning are the
most palpable expressions which we venture to give
to our conceptions of the one ; whilst the other we
figure and personify, and that, too often, after
a fashion in which the better part of the moral is
left unrepresented. Yet who shall personify time ?
And who that has ever tried it, in the silence of his
chamber and the stillness of his heart, hath not
bowed down in breathless awe before the solemn
visions which his conjuration has awakened? Oh,
the mysterious shapes which Time takes, when it
rises up into the mind as an image, at those hours
of lonely inquisition ! " And he said unto her,
' What form is he of ? ' And she said, ' An old man
cometh up ; and he is covered with a mantle.' "
The mysterious presence which it assumes " in
thoughts from the visions of the night, when deep
sleep falleth on men " ! Who, as he strove to col-
lect the mournful attributes about which his fancy
had been busy into an impersonation, hath not
suddenly felt as if " a spirit passed before his face !
... It stood still, but he could not discern the form
thereof; an image was before his eyes, there was si-
lence ; " and out of that silence hath seemed to come
a voice like that which whispered to Job, " They
that dwell in houses of clay, whose foundation is in
the dust, which are crushed before the moth, they
are destroyed from morning to evening ; they perish
for ever, without any regarding it."
IO THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
Time, abstractedly considered as what in truth
it is, a portion of the vast ocean of eternity, a
river flowing from the sea and flowing to the sea,
a channel leading from deep to deep, through shores
on which the races of the world are permitted to
build for awhile, until the great waters shall once
more cover all, and time, as time, " shall be no
more/*' must long have defied the skill of man to
map out its surface, and write his memorials upon
its impalpable bosom. The thousand keels that
sweep over the visible waters of the world leave on
their face traces of their passage more legible and
enduring than do the generations of men as they
come and go on that viewless and voiceless stream.
The ingenuity which has taught man to lay down
the plan of the material ocean, to assign to each
spot on its uniform surface its positive whereabout
and actual relation, and by a series of imaginary
lines and figures to steer his way across its pathless
solitudes with a knowledge as certain as that which
guides him amidst the substantive and distinctive
features of the solid earth, is scarcely more admir-
able than that which, by a similar device, has en-
abled him to measure out the expanse of the silent
river, to cover, as it were, its surface with a crowd
of imaginary latitudes and longitudes intersecting
each other at all points, and to ascertain at any
moment, by observation, his relative position on the
great stream of time.
How long the unaided genius of man might have
INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. II
been ere it could have fallen upon a scheme for the
one achievement or the other, if left to struggle with
its own resources and unassisted by hints from with-
out, we need not conjecture. But in each case the
solution of the problem was suggested to him, as the
materials for working it are still furnished, by the fin-
ger of God himself. The great architect of the uni-
verse hath planted in its frame all necessary models
and materials for the guidance and use of its human
inhabitants, leaving them to the exercise of those
powers and capacities with which they have been
furnished to improve the lessons and apply the ex-
amples thus conveyed. In each of the cases of which
we have spoken, the constellations which surround
the world and " are the poetry of heaven " have been
the sources of the inspiration, as they are still the
lights by which that inspiration works. The hand
that fashioned the " two great lights," and appointed
to them their courses, and gave them to be "for signs
and for seasons and for days and years," pointed out
to man how he might, by the observation of their rev-
olutions, direct his course along the unbroken stream
of time or count its waves as they flowed silently and
ceaselessly away. The sun and moon were the an-
cient and at first the only measures of time, as
they are the essential foundations of all the modes
by which man measures it now ; and in the order of
the world's architecture, the "watches of the ele-
ment " which guide us yet were framed and " set
in the firmament of heaven" at that distant and
12 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
uncertain period whose " evening and morning were
the fourth day."
Nor did the beneficent power which erected these
great meters of time in the constitution of the
universe leave the world without suggestions how
their use might be improved in the business of
more minute subdivision. The thousand natural
inequalities of the earth's surface, and the vegetable
columns which spring from its bosom, furnish as
do the spires and towers and columns which man
rears thereon so many gnomons of the vast dial,
on which are unerringly written with the finger of
shadow the shining records of the sky. There is
something unutterably solemn in watching the
shade creep, day by day, round a circle whose
diameter man might measure with his grave or
even cover with his hand, and contrasting the limits
within which it acts with the spaces of time which
its stealing tread measures out, and feeling that it
is the faithful index of a progress before which the
individual being and the universal frame of things
are alike hastening to rapid and inevitable decay.
There are few types more awfully representative of
that which they typify than is the shadow. It is Time
almost made visible. Through it the mind reaches
the most vivid impersonation of that mysterious idea
which it is capable of containing. It seems as if
flung directly from his present and passing wing.
The silent and ceaseless motion gliding for ever on
and on, coming round again and again, but revert-
INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 13
ing never and tarrying never, blotting out the sun-
shine as it passes and leaving no trace where it has
passed make it the true and solemn symbol of him
(the old unresting and unreturning one) who re-
ceded not, even when that same shadow went back
on the dial of the king of Judah, nor paused when
the sun stood still in the midst of heaven and the
moon lingered over the valley of Ajalon ! Of that
mysterious type and its awful morals a lost friend
of ours 1 has already spoken better than we can
hope to speak ; and as he is ("alas, that he is so ! ")
already one whose " sun shall no more go down,
neither shall his moon withdraw itself," we will
avail ourselves of a language which deserves to be
better known, and sounds all the , more solemnly
that he who uttered it hath since furnished in his
own person a fresh verification of the solemn truths
which he sung so well.
" Upon a dial-stone,
Behold the shade of Time,
For ever circling on and on
In silence more sublime
Than if the thunders of the spheres
Pealed forth its march to mortal ears !
" It meets us hour by hour,
Doles out our little span,
Reveals a presence and a power
Felt and confessed by man ;
The drop of moments, day by day,
That rocks of ages wears away.
1 The late John Malcolm, of Edinburgh.
14 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
" Woven by a hand unseen
Upon that stone, survey
A robe of dark sepulchral green,
The mantle of decay,
The fold of chill oblivion's pall,
That falleth with yon shadow's fall !
" Day is the time for toil,
Night balms the weary breast,
Stars have their vigils, seas awhile
Will sink to peaceful rest;
But round and round the shadow creeps
Of that which slumbers not, nor sleeps !
" Effacing all that 's fair,
Hushing the voice of mirth
Into the silence of despair,
Around the lonesome hearth,
And training ivy-garlands green
O'er the once gay and social scene.
" In beauty fading fast
Its silent trace appears,
And where a phantom of the past,
Dim in the mist of years
Gleams Tadmor o'er oblivion's waves,
Like wrecks above their ocean-graves.
" Before the ceaseless shade
That round the world doth sail
Its towers and temples bow the head,
The pyramids look pale,
The festal halls grow hushed and cold,
The everlasting hills wax old!
" Coeval with the sun
Its silent course began,
And still its phantom-race shall run,
Till worlds with age grow wan,
Till darkness spread her funeral pall,
And one vast shadow circle all ! "
INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 15
To the great natural divisions of time (with their
aid, and guided by these hints) the ingenuity of
man, under the direction of his wants, has been
busy since the world began in adding artificial
ones, while his heart has been active in supplying
impulses and furnishing devices to that end. Years,
and months, and days the periods marked out
by the revolutions of our celestial guides have
been aggregated and divided after methods almost
as various as the nations of the earth. Years have
been composed into cycles and olympiads and
generations and reigns, and months resolved into
decades and weeks, days into hours, and hours
into subdivisions which have been again subdivided
almost to the confines of thought. Yet it is only in
these latter ages of the world that a measurement
has been attained, at once so minute and so closely
harmonizing with the motions and regulated by the
revolutions of the dials of the sky, that, had the
same machinery existed from the commencement
of time, with the art of printing to preserve its re-
sults, the history of the past might be perused,
with its discrepancies reconciled and many of its
blanks supplied. And could the world agree upon
its uniform adoption now, together with that of a
common epoch to reckon from, comparative chro-
nology would be no longer a science applicable to
the future ; and history, for the time to come (in so
far as it is a mere record of facts), would present few
problems but such as " he who runs may read."
1 6 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
But out of these conventional and multiplied divi-
sions of time, these wheels within the great wheel,
arise results far more important than the verifica-
tion of a chronological series or the establishment
of the harmonies of history. Through them not
only may the ages of the world be said to intercom-
municate, and the ends of the earth in a sense to
meet, but by their aid the whole business of the
life of nations and of individuals is regulated, and
a set of mnemonics established upon which hinges
the history of the human heart. By the multiplied
but regular system of recurrences thus obtained,
order is made to arise out of the web of duties and
the chaos of events ; and at each of the thousand
points marked out on these concentric circles are
written their appropriate duties and recorded their
special memories. The calendar of every country is
thus covered over with a series of events whose rec-
ollection is recalled and influence kept alive by the
return of the cycles, in their ceaseless revolution,
to those spots at which the record of each has been
written ; and acts of fasting or of festival, of social
obligation or of moral observance, many of which
would be surely lost or overlooked, amidst the inex-
tricable confusion in which, without this systematic
arrangement, they must be mingled, are severally
pointed out by the moving finger of Time as he
periodically reaches the place of each on his con-
centric dials.
But besides the calendar of general direction and
INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 17
national observance, where is the heart that has not
a private calendar of its own ? Long ere the merid-
ian of life has been attained, the individual man
has made many a memorandum of joy or pain for
his periodical perusal, and established many a
private celebration, pleasant or mournful, of his
own. How many a lost hope and blighted feeling
which the heart is the better for recalling, and would
not willingly forget, would pass from the mind amid
the crowd and noise and bustle of the world, but
for these tablets on which it is ineffaceably written
and yearly read ! How many an act of memory,
with its store of consolations and its treasure of
warnings, would remain postponed, amid the inter-
ests of the present, till it came to be forgotten al-
together, but for that system which has marked its
positive place upon the wheels of time, and brings
the record certainly before the mental eye, in their
unvarying revolution ! Many are the uses of these
diaries of the heart. By their aid something is
saved from the wrecks of the past for the service of
the present; the lights of former days are made
to throw pleasant reflections upon many an after
period of life ; the weeds which the world and its
cares had fostered are again and again cleared
away from the sweet and wholesome fountain of
tears ; the fading inscriptions of other years are
renewed, to yield their morals to the future ; and
the dead are restored, for a fleeting hour of sweet
communion, or hold high and solemn converse with
2
l8 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
us from the graves in which we laid them years
ago.
And this result of the minute and accurate par-
titions of time, which consists in the establishment
of a series of points for periodic celebration, is, as
regards its public and social operation, more impor-
tant than may at first sight appear. The calendar
of almost every country is, as we have observed,
filled with a series of anniversaries, religious or
secular, of festival or abstinence, or instituted for
the regulation of business or the operations of
the law. In England, independently of those pe-
riods of observance which are common to the realm
and written in her calendar, there are few districts
which are without some festival peculiar to them-
selves, originating in the grant of some local char-
ter or privilege, the establishment of some local fair,
the influence of some ancient local superstition,
or some other cause, of which, in many cases, the
sole remaining trace is the observance to which it
has given rise, and which observance does not al-
ways speak in language sufficiently clear to give any
account of its parent. Around each of these cele-
brations has grown up a set of customs and tradi-
tions and habits, the examination into which has
led to many a useful result, and which are for the
most part worth preserving, as well for their pictu-
resque aspect and social character as for the sake of
the historic chambers which they may yet help us
to explore. Their close resemblance, as existing
INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 19
amongst different nations, has formed an element
in the solution of more than one problem which
had for its object a chapter of the history of the
world ; and they may be said, in many cases, to
furnish an apparent link of connection between
generations of men long divided and dwelling far
apart. They form, too, amid the changes which
time is perpetually effecting in the structure of so-
ciety, a chain of connection between the present
and former times of the same land, and prevent
the national individuality from being wholly de-
stroyed. They tend to preserve some similarity in
the moral aspect of a country from epoch to epoch,
and, without having force enough to act as drags
on the progress of society towards improvement,
they serve for a feature of identification amid all its
forms. Curious illustrations they are, too, of na-
tional history ; and we learn to have confidence in
its records when we find in some obscure nook the
peasant of to-day, who troubles himself little with
the lore of events and their succession, doing that
which some ancient chronicler tells us his ancestors
did a thousand years ago, and keeping in all
simplicity some festival, the story of whose origin
we find upon its written page.
To the philosophic inquirer, few things are more
important in the annals of nations than their festi-
vals, their anniversaries, and their public celebra-
tions of all kinds. In nothing is their peculiar
character more strikingly exhibited. They show a
2O THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
people in its undress, acting upon its impulses, and
separated from the conventions and formalities of
its every-day existence. We may venture to say
that could we, in the absence of every other rec-
ord, be furnished with a complete account of the
festivals, traditions, and anniversaries of any given
nation now extinct, not only might a correct esti-
mate be therefrom made of their progress in morals
and civilization, but a conjectural history of their
doings be hazarded, which should bear a closer
resemblance to the facts than many an existing his-
tory constructed from more varied materials.
For these reasons and some others, which are
more personal and less philosophical we love all
old traditions and holiday customs. Like honest
Sir Andrew Aguecheek, we " delight in masques
and revels, sometimes altogether." Many a happy
chance has conducted us unpremeditatedly into
the midst of some rustic festival, whose recollection
is amongst our pleasant memories yet, and many
a one have we gone venturously forth to seek,
when we dwelt in the more immediate neighbor-
hood of the haunts to which, one by one, these tra-
ditionary observances are retiring before the face
of civilization ! The natural tendency of time to
obliterate ancient customs and silence ancient
sports, is too much promoted by the utilitarian
spirit of the day ; and they who would have no man
enjoy without being able to give a reason for the
enjoyment which is in him, are robbing life of half
INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 21
its beauty and some of its virtues. If the old festi-
vals and hearty commemorations in which our land
was once so abundant and which obtained for
her, many a long day since, the name of " merrie
England " had no other recommendation than
their convivial character, the community of enjoy-
ment which they imply, they would on that
account alone be worthy of all promotion, as an
antidote to the cold and selfish spirit which is taint-
ing the life-blood and freezing the pulses of so-
ciety. " T is good to be merry and wise ; " but the
wisdom which eschews mirth, and holds the time
devoted to it as so much wasted by being taken
from the schoolmaster, is very questionable wisdom
in itself, and assuredly not made to promote the
happiness of nations. We love all commemora-
tions. We love these anniversaries, for their own
sakes, and for their uses. We love those Lethes of
an hour which have a virtue beyond their gift of
oblivion, and while they furnish a temporary for-
getfulness of many of the ills of life, revive the
memory of many a past enjoyment, and reawaken
many a slumbering affection. We love those mile-
stones on the journey of life beside which man is
called upon to pause, and take a reckoning of the
distance he has passed, and of that which he may
have yet to go. We love to reach those free, open
spaces at which the cross-roads of the world con-
verge, and where we are sure to meet, as at a com-
mon rendezvous, with travellers from its many
22 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
paths. We love to enter those houses of refresh-
ment by the way-side of existence, where we know
we shall encounter with other wayfarers like our-
selves, perchance with friends long separated, and
whom the chances of the world keep far apart,
and whence, after a sweet communion and lusty
festival and needful rest, we may go forth upon
our journey new fortified against its accidents,
and strengthened for its toils. We love those festi-
vals which have been made, as Washington Irving
says, " the season for gathering together of family
connections, and drawing closer again those bonds
of kindred hearts which the cares and pleasures
and sorrows of the world are continually operating
to cast loose ; of calling back the children of a
family who have launched forth in life and wan-
dered widely asunder, once more to assemble about
the paternal hearth, that rallying place of the affec-
tions, there to grow young and loving again among
the endearing mementos of childhood." Above
all, we love those seasons (" for pity is not com-
mon ! " says the old ballad) which call for the
exercise of a general hospitality, and give the poor
man his few and precious glimpses of a plenty
which, as the world is managed, his toil cannot
buy; which shelter the houseless wanderer, and
feed the starving child, and clothe the naked
mother, and spread a festival for all, those
seasons which in their observance by our ances-
tors, kept alive, by periodical reawakenings, that
INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 23
flame of charity which thus had scarcely time
wholly to expire during all the year. We love all
which tends to call man from the solitary and chil-
ling pursuit of his own separate and selfish views
into the warmth of a common sympathy, and within
the bands of a common brotherhood. We love
these commemorations, as we have said, for them-
selves ; we love them for their uses ; and still
more we love them for the memories of our boy-
hood ! Many a bright picture do they call up in
our minds, and in the minds of most who have
been amongst their observers ; for with these festi-
vals of the heart are inalienably connected many
a memory for sorrow or for joy, many a scene of
early love, many a merry meeting which was yet
the last, many a parting of those who shall part
no more, many a joyous group composed of
materials which separated only too soon and shall
never be put together again on earth, many a lost
treasure and many a perished hope,
" Hopes that were angels in their birth,
But perished young, like things of earth."
Happy, happy days were they ! "Oh, their record
is lively in my soul ! " and there is a happiness,
still, in looking back to them :
" Ye are dwelling with the faded flowers
Ye are with the suns long set,
But oh, your memory, gentle hours,
Is a living vision yet ! "
24 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
Yet are they, for the most part, eras to count our
losses by. Beside them, in the calendar of the heart,
is written many a private note, not to be read with-
out bitter tears :
" There 's many a lad I loved is gone,
And many a lass grown old ;
And when, at times, I think thereon,
My weary heart grows cold."
" Oh, the mad days that I have spent," says old
Justice Shallow, " and to see how many of mine
old acquaintance are dead ! " Yet still we love these
commemorations and hail them, each and all, as
the year restores them to us, shorn and scarred
as they are. And though many and many a time
the welcome has faltered on our lips as we " turned
from all they brought to all they could not bring,"
still by God's help we will enjoy them, as yet we
may, drawing closer to us, and with the more
reason, the friends that still remain, and draining
to the last
" One draught, in memory of many
A joyous banquet past."
The revels of merry England are fast subsiding
into silence, and her many customs wearing gradu-
ally away. The affectations and frivolities of so-
ciety, as well as its more grave and solemn pursuits,
the exigences of fashion, and the tongue of the
pedagogue, are alike arrayed against them; and,
one by one, they are retreating from the great assem-
INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 25
blies where mankind " most do congregate," to hide
themselves in remote solitudes and rural nooks. In
fact, that social change which has enlarged and
filled the towns at the expense of the country,
which has annihilated the yeomanry of England,
and drawn the estated gentleman from the shelter
of his ancestral oaks, to live upon their produce in
the haunts of dissipation, has been, in itself, the
circumstance most unfavorable to the existence of
many of them, which delight in bye-ways and shel-
tered places, which had their appropriate homes
in the old manor house or the baronial hall. Yet
do they pass lingeringly away. Traces of most
of them still exist, and from time to time reap-
pear even in our cities and towns ; and there
are probably scarcely any which have not found
some remote district or other of these islands
in which their influence is still acknowledged,
and their rites duly performed. There is some-
thing in the mind of man which attaches him
to ancient superstitions even for the sake of their
antiquity, and endears to him old traditions even
because they are old. We cannot readily shake off
our reverence for that which our fathers have rev-
erenced so long, even where the causes in which
that reverence originated are not very obvious or
not very satisfactory. We believe that he who
shall aid in preserving the records of these vanish-
ing observances, ere it be too late, will do good and
acceptable service in his generation ; and such con-
26 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
tribution to that end as we have in our power it is
the purpose of these volumes to bestow. Of that
taste for hunting out the obsolete which originates
in the mere dry spirit of antiquarianism, or is pur-
sued as a display of gladiatorial skill in the use of
the intellectual weapons, we profess ourselves no
admirers. But he who pursues in the track of a re-
ceding custom, which is valuable either as an his-
torical illustration or because of its intrinsic beauty,
moral or picturesque, is an antiquary of the be-
neficent kind ; and he who assists in restoring observ-
ances which had a direct tendency to propagate a
feeling of brotherhood and a spirit of benevolence,
is a higher benefactor still. Right joyous festivals
there have been amongst us, which England will be
none the merrier and kindly ones which she will
be none the better for losing. The following pages
will give some account of that season which has, at
all times since the establishment of Christianity,
been most crowded with observances, and whose
celebration is still the most conspicuous and univer-
sal with us, as well as throughout the whole of
Christendom.
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON.
"MERRY CHRISTMAS TO You!" Page 29.
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON.
This Book of Christmas is a sound and good persua-
sion for gentlemen, and all wealthy men, to keep a good
Christmas.
A HA! CHRISTMAS! BY T. H. LONDON. 1647.
Any man or woman . . . that can give any knowl-
edge, or tell any tidings, of an old, old, very old gray-
bearded gentleman, called Christmas, who was wont to
be a verie familiar ghest, and visite all sorts of people
both pore and rich, and used to appeare in glittering gold,
silk, and silver, in the Court, and in all shapes in the The-
ater in Whitehall, and had ringing, feasts, and jollitie in all
places, both in the citie and countrie, for his comming:
. . . whosoever can tel what is become of him, or where
he may be found, let them bring him back againe into
England.
AN HUE AND CRY AFTER CHRISTMAS.
IN Ben Jonson's "Mask of Christmas," presented
before the court in 16 1 6, wherein the ancient gen-
tleman so earnestly inquired after in one of the
quotations which heads this chapter, and a num-
ber of his children, compose the dramatis persona,
that venerable personage (who describes himself as
" Christmas, Old Christmas, Christmas of London,
30 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
and Captain Christmas ") is made to give a very
significant hint to some parties who fail to receive
him with due ceremony, which hint we will, in all
courtesy, bestow upon our readers. " I have
seen the time you have wished for me," says he ;
..." and now you have me, they would not let
me in. I must come another time ! a good jest !
As if I could come more than once a year / " Over
and over again, too, has this same very pregnant
argument been enforced in the words of the old
ballad, quoted in the " Vindication of Christmas,"
" Let 's dance and sing, and make good cheer,
For Christmas comes but once a year ! "
Now if this suggestion was full of grave meaning
in the days of Jonson, when the respectable
old man was for the most part well received
and liberally feasted, when he fed with his laugh-
ing children at the tables of princes, and took
tribute at the hands of kings, when he showed
beneath the snows of his reverend head a portly
countenance (the result of much revelling), an eye
in which the fire was unquenched, and a frame from
which little of the lustihood had yet departed, we
confess that we feel its import to be greatly height-
ened in these our days, when the patriarch himself
exhibits undeniable signs of a failing nature, and
many of his once rosy sons are evidently in the
different stages of a common decline. A fine and
a cheerful family the old man had ; and never came
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON. 31
they within any man's door without well repaying
the outlay incurred on their account. To us, at all
times, their " coming was a gladness ; " and we
feel that we could not, without a pang, see their
honest and familiar faces rejected from our thresh-
old, with the knowledge that the course of their
wanderings could not return them to us under
a period so protracted as that of twelve whole
months.
In that long space of time, besides the uncer-
tainty of what may happen to ourselves, there is
but too much reason to fear that, unless a change
for the better should take place, some one or more
of the neglected children may be dead. We could
not but have apprehensions that the group might
never return to us entire. Death has already made
much havoc amongst them, since the days of Ben
Jonson. Alas for Baby-cocke ! and woe is me for
Post-and-paire ! And although Carol, and Minced-
pie, and New-year's Gift, and Wassail, and Twelfth-
cake, and some others of the children, appear still
to be in the enjoyment of a tolerably vigorous health,
yet we are not a little anxious about Snap-dragon,
and our mind is far from being easy on the subject
of Hot-cockles. It is but too obvious that, one by
one, this once numerous and pleasant family are
falling away ; and as the old man will assuredly not
survive his children, we may yet, in our day, have
to join in the heavy lamentation of the lady at the
sad result of the above " Hue and Cry.'' " But is
32 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
old, old, good old Christmas gone ? nothing but
the hair of his good, grave old head and beard left ! "
For these reasons, he and his train shall be welcome
to us as often as they come. It shall be a heavy
dispensation under which we will suffer them to
pass by our door unhailed ; and if we can prevail
upon our neighbors to adopt our example, the
veteran and his offspring may yet be restored.
They are dying for lack of nourishment. They
have been used to live on most bountiful fare,
to feed on chines and turkeys and drink of the
wassail-bowl. The rich juices of their constitution
are not to be maintained, far less re-established,
at a less generous rate ; and though we will, for our
parts, do what lies in our power, yet it is not within
the reach of any private gentleman's exertions or
finances to set them on their legs again. It should
be made a national matter of; and as the old gen-
tleman, with his family, will be coming our way
soon after the publication of the present volume,
we trust we may be the means of inducing some
to receive them with the ancient welcome and feast
them after the ancient fashion.
To enable our readers to do this with due effect,
we will endeavor to furnish them with a programme
of some of the more important ceremonies observed
by our hearty ancestors on the occasion, and to
give them some explanation of those observances
which linger still, although the causes in which
their institution originated are becoming gradually
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON. 33
obliterated, and although they themselves are falling
into a neglect which augurs too plainly of their
final and speedy extinction.
It is, alas ! but too true that the spirit of hearty
festivity in which our ancestors met this season has
been long on the decline ; and much of the joyous
pomp with which it was once received has long
since passed away. Those " divers plente of ples-
aunces," in which the genius of mirth exhibited
himself,
" About yule, when the wind blew cule,
And the round tables began,"
have sent forward to these dull times of ours but
few, and those sadly degenerated, representatives.
The wild, barbaric splendor ; the unbridled " mirth
and princely cheare " with which, upon the faith
of ancient ballads, we learn that " ages long ago "
King Arthur kept Christmas " in merry Carleile "
with Queen Guenever, " that bride soe bright of
blee ; " the wholesale hospitality ; the royal stores of
" pigs' heads and gammons of bacon " for a Christ-
mas largesse to the poor, at which we get glimpses
in the existing records of the not over-hospitable
reign of King John ; the profuse expenditure and
stately ceremonial by which the season was illus-
trated in the reign of the vain and selfish Elizabeth ;
and the lordly wassailings and antic mummings,
whose universal prevalence, at this period of the
year, furnished subjects of such holy horror to the
Puritans in the time of the first Charles, have
3
34 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
gradually disappeared before the philosophic pre-
tensions and chilling pedantry of these sage and
self-seeking days. The picturesque effects of so-
ciety its strong lights and deep shadows are
rapidly passing away ; as the inequalities of surface
from which they were projected are smoothed
and polished down. From a period of high cere-
monial and public celebration, which it long con-
tinued to be in England, the Christmas-tide has
tamed away into a period of domestic union and
social festivity ; and the ancient observances
which covered it all over with sparkling points are
now rather perceived faintly and distantly and
imperfectly by the light of the still surviving
spirit of the season than contribute anything to
that spirit, or throw as of old any light over that
season from themselves.
Of the various causes which contribute to the
mingled festival of the Christmas-tide, there are
some which have their origin in feelings, and are
the remains of observances that existed previously
to that event from which the season now derives
its name. After the establishment of Christianity,
its earliest teachers, feeling the impossibility of re-
placing at once those pagan commemorations which
had taken long and deep root in the constitution of
society and become identified with the feelings of
nations, endeavored rather to purify them from
their uncleanness, and adapt them to the uses of
the new religion. By this arrangement, many an
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON. 35
object of pagan veneration became an object of
veneration to the early Christians ; and the poly-
theism of papal Rome (promoted, in part, by this
very compromise, working in the stronghold of the
ancient superstition) became engrafted upon the
polytheism of the heathen. At a later period, too,
the Protestant reformers of that corrupted worship
found themselves, from a similar impossibility, un-
der a similar necessity of retaining a variety of
Catholic observances ; and thus it is that festival
customs still exist amongst us which are the direct
descendants of customs connected with the classic
or druidical superstitions, and sports which may be
traced to the celebrations observed of old in honor
of Saturn or of Bacchus.
Amongst those celebrations which have thus sur-
vived the decay of the religions with which they
were connected, by being made subservient to the
new faith (or purified forms) which replaced them,
that which takes place at the period of the new
year placed as that epoch is in the neighborhood
of the winter solstice stands conspicuous. Be-
queathed as this ancient commemoration has been,
with many of its forms of rejoicing, by the pagan
to the Christian world, it has been by the latter
thrown into close association with their own festival
observances in honor of the first great event in the
history of their revelation ; and while the old ob-
servances and the feelings in which they originated
have thus been preserved to swell the tide of
36 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
Christian triumph, their pedigree has been over-
looked amid the far higher interest of the ob-
servances by whose side they stand, and their
ancient titles merged in that of the high family into
which they have been adopted.
In most nations of ancient or modern times, the
period of what is popularly called the winter solstice
appears to have been recognized as a season of
rejoicing. The deepening gloom and increasing
sterility which have followed the downward progress
of the sun's place in heaven would generally dis-
pose the minds of men to congratulation at the
arrival of that period when, as experience had
taught them, he had reached his lowest point of
influence with reference to them; and the prospects
of renewed light, and warmth, and vegetation offered
by what was considered as his returning march,
would naturally be hailed by the signs of thanks-
giving and the voice of mirth. The Roman
Saturnalia, which fell at this period, were accord-
ingly a season of high festivity, honored by many
privileges and many exemptions from ill. The
spirit of universal mirth and unbounded license
was abroad, and had a free charter. Friends feasted
together, and the quarrels of foes were suspended.
No war was declared and no capital executions
were permitted to take place during this season of
general good-will; and the very slave, beneath
its genial influence, regained for a moment the
moral attitude of a man, and had a right to use
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON. 37
the tongue which God had given him, for its
original purpose of expressing his thoughts. Not
only in the spirit of the time but in many of the forms
which it took, may a resemblance be traced to the
Christmas rejoicings of later days. The hymns in
honor of Saturn were the Roman representatives
of the modern carol ; and presents passed from
friend to friend, as Christmas gifts do in our day.
( It may be observed here that the interchange of
gifts and the offering of donations to the poor
appear to have been, at all periods of rejoicing or
delivery, from the earliest times, one of the modes
by which the heart manifested its thankfulness ;
and our readers may be referred for a single
example, where examples abound, to the directions
recorded in the Book of Esther, as given by Mor-
decai to the Jews in Shushan, for celebrating their
escape from the conspiracy of Hainan : that on
the anniversaries of " the days wherein the Jews
rested from their enemies, and the month which
was turned unto them from sorrow to joy and from
mourning into a good day, they should make them
days of feasting and joy, and of sending portions
one to another and gifts to the poor. ") But a
more striking resemblance still between the forms
observed during the days of the Saturnalia and
those by which the Christmas festival was long
illustrated may be noticed in the ruler, or king,
who was appointed, with considerable prerogatives,
to preside over the sports of the former. He is the
38 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
probable ancestor of that high potentate who, under
the title of Christmas Prince, Lord of Misrule, or
Abbot of Unreason, exercised a similar sway over
the Christmas games of more recent times, and
whose last descendant the Twelfth-night King
still rules with a diminished glory over the linger-
ing revelries of a single night.
In the Northern nations of ancient Europe the
same period of the year was celebrated by a fes-
tival in honor of the God Thor, which, like the
Roman Saturnalia and the festival of our own
times, was illustrated by the song, the dance, and
the feast, executed after their barbarous fashion,
and mingled with the savage rites of their own re-
ligion. The name of this celebration Yule, Jule,
lul, or lol has given rise to many disputes amongst
antiquaries as to its derivation, whose arguments,
however, we need not report for the benefit of
our readers till judgment shall have been finally
pronounced. When that time shall arrive, we un-
dertake to publish a new edition of the present work,
for the purpose of giving our readers an abstract of
the pleadings and acquainting them with the ulti-
mate decision. In the mean time, we will let Sir
Walter Scott inform them how
" The savage Dane,
At lol, more deep the mead did drain ;
High on the beach his galleys drew,
And feasted all his pirate-crew ;
Then, in his low and pine-built hall,
Where shields and axes decked the wall,
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON. 39
They gorged upon the half-dressed steer,
Caroused in sea of sable beer,
While round, in brutal jest, were thrown
The half-gnawed rib and marrow-bone ;
Or listened all, in grim delight,
While Scalds yelled out the joys of fight.
Then forth in frenzy would they hie,
While wildly loose their red locks fly,
And, dancing round the blazing pile,
They made such barbarous mirth the while,
As best might to the mind recall
The boisterous joys of Odin's hall."
Amongst other traces of the northern observances
which have descended to our times, and of which
we shall have occasion hereafter to speak, the name
of the festival itself has come down, and is still re-
tained by our Scottish brethren, as well as in some
parts of England.
The Christian festival of the Nativity, with which
these ancient celebrations have been incorporated,
appears to have been appointed at a very early pe-
riod after the establishment of the new religion.
Its first positive footsteps are met with in the sec-
ond century, during the reign of the Emperor
Concordius ; but the decretal epistles furnish us
with traces of it more remote. At whatever period,
however, its formal institution is to be placed, there
can be no doubt that an event so striking in its
manner and so important in itself would be annually
commemorated amongst Christians from the days
of the first apostles, who survived our Lord's resur-
rection. As to the actual year of the birth of
40 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
Christ, as well as the period of the year at which
it took place, great uncertainty seems to exist, and
many controversies have been maintained. One of
the theories on the subject, held to be amongst the
most probable, places that event upwards of five
years earlier than the vulgar era, which latter, how-
ever, both as regards the year and season of the
year, was a tradition of the primitive Church. In
the first ages of that Church, and up till the Coun-
cil of Nice, the celebration of the Nativity and that
of the Epiphany were united on the 25th of De-
cember, from a belief that the birth of Christ was
simultaneous with the appearance of the star in the
East which revealed it to the Gentiles. The time
of the year at which the Nativity fell has been
placed, by contending opinions, at the period of
the Jewish Feast of Tabernacles, at that of the Pass-
over, and again at that of the Feast of the Expia-
tion, whose date corresponds with the close of our
September. Clemens Alexandrinus informs us that
it was kept by many Christians in April, and by
others in the Egyptian month Pachon, which an-
swers to our May. Amongst the arguments which
have been produced against the theory that places
its occurrence in the depth of winter, one has
been gathered from that passage in the sacred
history of the event which states that " there were
shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over
their flocks by night." It is an argument, however,
which does not seem very conclusive in a pastoral
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON. 41
country and Eastern climate. Besides the employ-
ment which this question has afforded to the learned,
it has, in times of religious excitement, been de-
bated with much Puritanical virulence and secta-
rian rancor. For the purposes of commemoration,
however, it is unimportant whether the celebration
shall fall or not at the precise anniversary period
of the event commemorated ; and the arrangement
which assigns to it its place in our calendar fixes it
at a season when men have leisure for a lengthened
festivity, and when their minds are otherwise whole-
somely acted upon by many touching thoughts and
solemn considerations.
From the first introduction of Christianity into
these islands, the period of the Nativity seems to
have been kept as a season of festival, and its
observance recognized as a matter of state. The
Wittenagemots of our Saxon ancestors were held
under the solemn sanctions and beneficent influences
of the time ; and the series of high festivities estab-
lished by the Anglo-Saxon kings appear to have
been continued, with yearly increasing splendor
and multiplied ceremonies, under the monarchs of
the Norman race. From the court the spirit of rev-
elry descended by all its thousand arteries through-
out the universal frame of society, visiting its fur-
thest extremities and most obscure recesses, and
everywhere exhibiting its action, as by so many
pulses, upon the traditions and superstitions and
customs which were common to all or peculiar to
42 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
each. The pomp and ceremonial of the royal ob-
servance were imitated in the splendid establish-
ments of the more wealthy nobles, and more faintly
reflected from the diminished state of the petty
baron. The revelries of the baronial castle found
echoes in the hall of the old manor-house ; and
these were, again, repeated in the tapestried cham-
ber of the country magistrate or from the sanded
parlor of the village inn. Merriment was every-
where a matter of public concernment; and the
spirit which assembles men in families now congre-
gated them by districts then.
Neither, however, were the feelings wanting
which connected the superstitions of the season
with the tutelage of the roof- tree, and mingled its
ceremonies with the sanctities of home. Men might
meet in crowds to feast beneath the banner of the
baron, but the mistletoe hung over each man's
own door. The black-jacks might go round in the
hall of the lord of the manor ; but they who could
had a wassail- bowl of their own. The pageantries
and high observances of the time might draw men
to common centres or be performed on a common
account, but the flame of the Yule-log roared up
all the individual chimneys of the land. Old Father
Christmas, at the head of his numerous and up-
roarious family, might ride his goat through the
streets of the city and the lanes of the village,
but he dismounted to sit for some few moments by
each man's hearth ; while some one or another of
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON. 43
his merry sons would break away, to visit the remote
farm-houses or show their laughing faces at many
a poor man's door. For be it observed, this
worthy old gentleman and his kind-hearted chil-
dren were no respecters of persons. Though trained
to courts, they had ever a taste for a country life.
Though accustomed in those days to the tables of
princes, they sat freely down at the poor man's
board. Though welcomed by the peer, they showed
no signs of superciliousness when they found them-
selves cheek-by-jowl with the pauper. Nay, they
appear even to have preferred the less exalted so-
ciety, and to have felt themselves more at ease in
the country mansion of the private gentleman than
in the halls of kings. Their reception in those high
places was accompanied, as royal receptions are apt
to be, by a degree of state repugnant to their frank
natures ; and they seem never to have been so
happy as when they found themselves amongst a
set of free and easy spirits, whether in town or
country, unrestrained by the punctilios of eti-
quette, who had the privilege of laughing just
when it struck them to do so, without inquiring
wherefore, or caring how loud.
Then, what a festival they created ! The land
rang with their joyous voices, and the frosty air
steamed with the incense of the good things pro-
vided for their entertainment. Everybody kept hol-
iday but the cooks ; and all sounds known to the
human ear seemed mingled in the merry paean, save
44 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
the gobble of the turkeys. There were no turkeys,
at least they had lost their "most sweet voices."
The turnspits had a hard time of it, too. That
quaint little book which bears the warm and prom-
ising title of " Round about our Coal Fire " tells us
that " by the time dinner was over they would look
as black and as greasy as a Welsh porridge-pot."
Indeed, the accounts of that time dwell with great
and savory emphasis upon the prominent share
which eating and drinking had in the festivities of
the season. There must have been sad havoc made
amongst the live-stock. That there are turkeys at
all in our days is only to be accounted for upon
the supposition of England having been occasionally
replenished with that article from the East ; and
our present possession of geese must be explained
by the well-known impossibility of extinguishing the
race of the goose. It is difficult to imagine a con-
sumption equal to the recorded provision. Men's
gastronomic capacities appear to have been enlarged
for the occasion, as the energies expand to meet
great emergencies. " The tables," says the same
racy authority above quoted, " were all spread from
the first to the last ; the sirloyns of beef, the minc'd-
pies, the plumb-porridge, the capons, turkeys, geese,
and plumb-puddings were all brought upon the
board ; and all those who had sharp stomachs and
sharp knives eat heartily and were welcome, which
gave rise to the proverb,
" ' Merry in the hall, when beards wag all ! ' "
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON. 45
Now, all men in those days appear to have had
good stomachs, and, we presume, took care to pro-
vide themselves with sharp knives. The only re-
corded instance in which we find a failure of the
latter is that portentous one which occurred, many
a long day since, in the court of King Arthur, when
the Christmas mirth was so strangely disturbed by
the mischievous interference of the Boy with the
Mantle. Under the test introduced by that imp of
discord and which appears to have " taken the
shine out of" the monarch's own good sword Excal-
ibur itself, there was found but one knight, of all
the hungry knights who sat at that Round Table,
whose weapon was sharp enough to carve the boar's
head or hand steady enough to carry the cup to
his lip without spilling the lamb's wool ; and even
he had a very narrow escape from the same incapa-
cities. But then, as we have said, this was at court,
and under the influence of a spell (with whose na-
ture we take it for granted that our readers are ac-
quainted, and, if not, we refer them to the Percy
Ballads) ; and it is probable that, in those early as
in later days, tests of such extreme delicacy were
of far more dangerous introduction in the courts of
kings than amongst assemblies of more mirth and
less pretension. We could by no means feel sure
that the intrusion, in our own times, of a similar
test into a similar scene might not spoil the
revels.
But to return. The old ballads which relate to
46 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
this period of the year are redolent of good things,
and not to be read by a hungry man with any de-
gree of equanimity. Of course they are ex post
facto ballads, and could only have been written
under the inspiration of memory, at a time when
men were at leisure to devote their hands to some
other occupation than that of cooking or carving.
But it is very difficult to understand how they ever
found as it appears they did their mouths in a
condition to sing them at the season itself. There
is one amongst those ballads, of a comparatively
modern date, printed in Evans's collection, which we
advise no man to read fasting. It is directed to be
sung to the tune of " The Delights of the Bottle,"
and contains in every verse a vision of good things,
summed up by the perpetually recurring burthen of
" Plum-pudding, goose, capon, minc'd-pies, and roast beef."
Our readers had better take a biscuit and a glass of
sherry before they venture upon the glimpses into
those regions of banqueting which we are tempted
to lay before them. The ballad opens like the ring-
ing of a dinner-bell, and, we conceive, should be
sung to some such accompaniment :
" All you that to feasting and mirth are inclin'd,
Come here is good news for to pleasure your mind,
Old Christmas is come for to keep open house,
He scorns to be guilty of starving a mouse :
Then come, boys, and welcome for diet the chief,
Plum-pudding, goose, capon, minc'd-pies, and roast beef."
ENJOYING CHRISTMAS. Page 46.
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON. 47
"Diet the chief '/" by which we are to under-
stand that this promising muster-roll merely includes
the names of some of the principal viands, the
high-commissioned dishes of the feast, leaving the
subalterns, and the entire rank and file which com-
plete the goodly array, unmentioned. It must have
been a very ingenious or a very strong-minded
mouse which could contrive to be starved under
such circumstances. The ballad is long, and we
can only afford to give our readers " tastings " of
its good things. It is everywhere full of most
gracious promise :
" The cooks shall be busied, by day and by night,
In roasting and boiling, for taste and delight,
Their senses in liquor that 's nappy they '11 steep,
Though they be afforded to have little sleep ;
They still are employed for to dress us, in brief,
Plum-pudding, goose, capon, minc'd-pies, and roast beef.
" Although the cold weather doth hunger provoke,
'T is a comfort to see how the chimneys do smoke ;
Provision is making for beer, ale, and wine,
For all that are "willing or ready to dine :
Then haste to the kitchen for diet the chief,
Plum-pudding, goose, capon, minc'd-pies, and roast beef.
"All travellers, as they do pass on their way,
At gentlemen's halls are invited to stay,
Themselves to refresh and their horses to rest,
Since that he must be old Christmas's guest ;
Nay, the poor shall not want, but have for relief
Plum-pudding, goose, capon, minc'd-pies, and roast beef."
And so on, through a variety of joyous and sub-
stantial anticipations, from which the writer draws
48 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
an inference, which we think is most satisfactorily
made out :
" Then well may we welcome old Christmas to town,
Who brings us good cheer, and good liquor so brown ;
To pass the cold winter away with delight,
We feast it all day, and we frolick all night."
In Ellis's edition of Brand's "Popular Antiqui-
ties " an old Christmas song is quoted from " Poor
Robin's Almanack" for 1695, which gives a similar
enumeration of Christmas dainties, but throws them
into a form calculated for more rapid enunciation, as
if with a due regard to the value of those moments
at which it was probably usual to sing it. The
measure is not such a mouthful as that of the former
one which we have quoted. It comes trippingly
off the tongue ; and it is not impossible that, in
those days of skilful gastronomy, it might have been
sung eating. We will quote a couple of the verses,
though they include the same commissariat truths
as that from which we have already extracted ; and
our readers will observe, from the ill-omened wish
which concludes the second of these stanzas, in what
horror the mere idea of fasting had come to be held,
since it is the heaviest curse which suggested itself
to be launched against those who refused to do
homage to the spirit of the times :
" Now thrice welcome Christmas,
Which brings us good cheer,
Minc'd pies and plumb-porridge,
Good ale and strong beer ;
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON. 49
With pig, goose, and capon,
The best that may be,
So well doth the weather
And our stomachs agree.
Observe how the chimneys
Do smoak all about,
The cooks are providing
For dinner no doubt ;
But those on whose tables
No victuals appear,
O may they keep Lent
All the rest of the year ! "
The same author quotes, from a manuscript in
the British Museum, an Anglo-Norman carol of the
early date of the thirteenth century, and appends
to it a translation by the late Mr. Douce, the fol-
lowing verse of which translation informs us (what,
at any rate, might well be supposed, namely) that so
much good eating on the part of the ancient gentle-
man, Christmas, would naturally suggest the pro-
priety of good drinking, too :
" Lordings, Christmas loves good drinking,
Wines of Gascoigne, France, Anjou,
English ale, that drives out thinking,
Prince of liquors old or new.
Every neighbor shares the bowl, ,
Drinks of the spicy liquor deep,
Drinks his fill without controul,
Till he drowns his care in sleep."
" In a " Christmas Carroll," printed at the end of
Wither's "Juvenilia," a graphic account is given of
some of the humors of Christmas, among which the
labors of the kitchen are introduced in \\iQjtrst verse,
4
50 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
with a due regard to their right of precedency, and
in words which, if few, are full of suggestion :
" Lo, now is come our joyful'st feast !
Let every man be jolly.
Each roome with yvie leaves is drest,
And every post with holly.
Now, all our neighbour's chimneys smoke,
And Christmas Blocks are burning;
Their ovens they with bak't-meats choke,
And all their spits are turning."
We must present our readers with another quota-
tion from an old ballad, entitled " Time's Alteration ;
or, The Old Man's Rehearsal, what brave dayes he
knew a great while agone, when his old cap was
new," which appears to have been written after
the times of the Commonwealth. And this ex-
tract we are induced to add to those which have
gone before, because, though it deals with precisely
the same subjects, it speaks of them as of things
gone by, and is written in a tone of lamentation, in
which it is one of the purposes of this chapter to
call upon our readers to join. We are sorry we
cannot give them directions as to the tune to which
it should be sung, further than that it is obviously
unsuited to that of the " Delights of the Bottle,"
prescribed for the joyous ballad from which we
first quoted on this subject ; and that, whatever may
be the tune, we are clear that the direction as to
time should be the same as that which Mr. Hood
prefixes to his song of the Guildhall Giants ; namely,
" Dinner-time and mournful " :
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON. 51
" A man might then behold,
At Christmas in each hall,
Good fires to curb the cold,
And meat for great and small ;
The neighbours were friendly bidden,
And all had welcome true,
The poor from the gates were not chidden,
When this old cap was new.
" Black-jacks to every man
Were fill'd with wine and beer ;
No pewter pot nor can
In those days did appear ;
Good cheer in a nobleman's house
Was counted a seemly shew ;
We wanted no brawn nor souse,
When this old cap was new."
Can our readers bear, after this sad ditty, to listen
to the enumeration of good things described by
Whistlecraft to have been served up at King
Arthur's table on Christmas day? If the list be
authentic, there is the less reason to wonder at
the feats of courage and strength performed by
the Knights of the Round Table.
" They served up salmon, venison, and wild boars,
By hundreds, and by dozens, and by scores.
" Hogsheads of honey, kilderkins of mustard,
Muttons, and fatted beeves, and bacon swine ;
Herons and bitterns, peacocks, swan, and bustard,
Teal, mallard, pigeons, widgeons, and, in fine,
Plum-puddings, pancakes, apple-pies, and custard.
And therewithal they drank good Gascon wine,
With mead, and ale, and cider of our own ;
For porter, punch, and negus were not known."
$2 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
But we cannot pursue this matter further. It is
not to be treated with any degree of calmness be-
fore dinner, and we have not dined. We must
proceed to less trying parts of our subject.
Of the earnest manner in which our ancestors
set about the celebration of this festival, the mock
ceremonial with which they illustrated it, the quaint
humors which they let loose under its inspiration,
and the spirit of fellowship which brought all classes
of men within the range of its beneficent provisions,
we have a large body of scattered evidence, to be
gleaned out of almost every species of existing
record, from the early days of the Norman dynasty
down to the times of the Commonwealth. The tales
of chroniclers, the olden ballads, the rolls of courts,
and the statute-book of the land, all contribute to
furnish the materials from which a revival of the old
pageantry must be derived, if men should ever again
find time to be as merry as their fathers were.
The numberless local customs of which the still
remaining tradition is almost the sole record, and
which added each its small contingent to the
aggregate of commemoration, would certainly ren-
der it a somewhat difficult matter to restore the
festival in its integrity ; and, to be very candid
with our readers, we believe we may as well confess,
at the onset, what will be very apparent to them
before we have done, that many of the Christmas
observances (whether general or local) are to be
recommended to their notice rather as curious pic-
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON. 53
tures of ancient manners than as being at all worthy
of imitation by us who " are wiser in our genera-
tion." Sooth to say, we dare not let our zeal for
our subject lead us into an unqualified approbation
of all the doings which it will be our business to
record in these pages, though they seem to have
made all ranks of people very happy in other days ;
and that is no mean test of the value of any
institution. Really earnest as we are in the wish
that the sentiment of the season could be restored
in its amplitude, we fear that many of the fooleries
by which it exhibited itself could not be gravely
proposed as worthy amusements for a nation of
philosophers.
Still these very absurdities furnish the strongest
evidences of the right good-will with which men
ay, grave and learned men surrendered them-
selves to the merry spirit of the time, of that en-
tire abandonment which forgot to make a reservation
of their outward dignities and gave them courage
to "play the fool." Our readers need scarcely be
told that it must be a man of a very strong mind,
or a man who could not help it, who should dare
to make a jack-pudding of himself in these days,
when all his fellows are walking about the world
with telescopes in their hands and quadrants in
their pockets. No doubt it would have a some-
what ridiculous effect to-day to see the members
of the bar dancing a galliard or a coranto, in
full costume, before the Benchers, notwithstanding
54 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
that certain ancient forms are still retained in their
halls which have all the absurdity of the exploded
ones without any of their fun ; and unquestionably
we should think it rather strange to see a respect-
able gentleman capering through the streets on a
pasteboard hobby-horse, in lieu of the figurative
hobby-horses on which most men still exhibit, al-
though even that, we think, would offer an object
less ungracious than a child with an anxious brow
and "spectacles on nose." The great wisdom of
the world is, we presume, one of the natural con-
sequences of its advancing age ; and though we are
quite conscious that some of its former pranks
would be very unbecoming, now that it is getting
into years, and " knows so much as it does," yet we
are by no means sure that we should not have been
well content to have our lot cast in the days when
it was somewhat younger. They must have been
very pleasant times ! Certain it is that the laugh of
the humbler classes, and of the younger classes,
would be all the heartier, that it was echoed by the
powerful and the aged ; the mirth of the ignorant
more free and genial, that the learned thought no
scorn of it. For all that appears, too, the dignities
of those days suffered no detriment by their sur-
render to the spirit of the times, but seem to have
resumed all their functions and privileges, when it
had exhausted itself, with unimpaired effect. Phi-
losophers had due reverence, without erecting them-
selves always on stilts for the purpose of attracting
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON. 55
it; and names have come down to us which are
esteemed the names of grave and learned and wise
men, even in this grave and learned and wise
age, who, nevertheless, appear in their own to
have conducted themselves at times very like
children.
From the royal Household-Books which exist, and
from the Household-Books of noble families (some
of which have been printed for better preservation),
as also from the other sources to which we have
alluded, Mr. Sandys, in the very valuable introduc-
tion to his collection of Christmas carols, already
mentioned, has brought together a body of valuable
information, both as to the stately ceremonies and
popular observances by which the season continued
to be illustrated, from an early period up to the
time of its decline, amid the austerities of the civil
war. To this careful compilation we shall be oc-
casionally indebted for some curious particulars
which had escaped ourselves, amid the multiplied
and unconnected sources from which our notes for
this volume had to be made. To those who would
go deeper into the antiquarian part of the subject
than suits the purpose of a popular volume, we can
recommend that work, as containing the most
copious and elaborate synopsis of the existing infor-
mation connected therewith which we have found
in the course of our own researches. It would be
impossible, however, in a paper of that length or,
indeed, in a volume of any moderate size to give
56 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
an account of all the numerous superstitions and ob-
servances of which traces are found, in an extended
inquiry, to exist, throwing light upon each other
and contributing to the complete history of the fes-
tival. We have therefore gleaned from all quarters
those which appear to be the most picturesque and
whose relation is the most obvious, with a view, as
much as possible, of generalizing the subject and pre-
senting its parts in relation to an intelligible whole.
As we shall have occasion, in our second part, to
speak of those peculiar feelings and customs by
which each of the several days of the Christmas
festival is specially illustrated, we shall not at pres-
ent pause to go into any of the details of the sub-
ject, although continually tempted to do so by
their connection with the observations which we are
called upon to make. The purpose of the present
chapter is rather to insist generally, and by some of
its more striking features, upon the high and length-
ened festivity with which this portion of the year
was so long and so universally welcomed, and to
seek some explanation of the causes to which the
diminution of that spirit, and the almost total neg-
lect of its ancient forms, are to be ascribed.
As early as the twelfth century we have accounts
of the spectacles and pageants by which Christmas
was welcomed at the court of the then monarch
Henry II. ; and from this period the wardrobe
rolls and other Household-Books of the English
kings furnish continual evidences of the costly prepa-
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON. 57
rations made for the festival. Many extracts from
these books have been made by Mr. Sandys and
others, from which it appears that the mirth of the
celebration, and the lavish profusion expended upon
it, were on the increase from year to year, except-
ing during that distracted period of England's his-
tory when these, like all other gracious arrangements
and social relations, were disturbed by the unholy
contests between the houses of the rival roses.
There is, however, a beautiful example of the sacred
influence of this high festival mentioned by Turner
in his History of England, showing that its hal-
lowed presence had power, even in those warlike
days, to silence even the voice of war, of all war
save that most impious of (what are almost always
impious) wars, civil war. During the siege of Or-
leans, in 1428, he says : "The solemnities and fes-
tivities of Christmas gave a short interval of repose.
The English lords requested of the French com-
manders that they might have a night of minstrelsy,
with trumpets and clarions. This was granted ; and
the horrors of war were suspended by melodies,
that were felt to be delightful."
In the peaceful reign of Henry VII., the nation,
on emerging from that long and unnatural strug-
gle, appears to have occupied itself, as did the wise
monarch, in restoring as far as was possible, and
by all means, its disrupted ties, and rebaptizing its
apostate feelings ; and during this period the fes-
tival of Christmas was restored with revived
58 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
splendor and observed with renewed zeal. The
Household-Book of that sovereign, preserved in
the chapter-house at Westminster, contains numer-
ous items for disbursements connected with the
Christmas diversions, in proof of this fact.
The reign of Henry VIII. was a reign of jousts
and pageants till it became a reign of blood ; and
accordingly the Christmas pageantries prepared for
the entertainment of that execrable monarch were
distinguished by increased pomp and furnished at
a more profuse expenditure. The festivities of
Eltham and Greenwich figure in the pages of the
old chroniclers ; and the account books at the
chapter-house abound in payments made in this
reign, for purposes connected with the revels of
the season.
We shall by and by have occasion to present
our readers with some curious particulars, illustra-
tive of the cost and pains bestowed upon this court
celebration during the short reign of the young
monarch Edward VI.
Not all the gloom and terror of the sanguinary
Mary's reign were able entirely to extinguish the
spirit of Christmas rejoicing throughout the land,
though the court itself was too much occupied with
its auto-da-f spectacles to have much time for
pageants of less interest.
Our readers, we think, need scarcely be told that
the successor of this stern and miserable queen
(and, thank God ! the last of that bad family)
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON. 59
was sure to seize upon the old pageantries, as she
did upon every other vehicle which could in any
way be made to minister to her intolerable vanity,
or by which a public exhibition might be made,
before the slaves whom she governed, of her own
vulgar and brutal mind. Under all the forms of
ancient festival observance, some offering was pre-
sented to this insatiable and disgusting appetite,
and that, too, by men entitled to stand erect, by
their genius or their virtues, yet whose knees were
rough with kneeling before as worthless an idol as
any wooden god that the most senseless superstition
ever set up for worship. From all the altars which
the court had reared to old Father Christmas of
yore, a cloud of incense was poured into the royal
closet, enough to choke anything but a woman,
that woman a queen, and that queen a Tudor.
The festival was preserved, and even embellished ;
but the saint, as far as the court was concerned, was
changed. However, the example of the festivity to
the people was the same ; and the land was a
merry land, and the Christmas time a merry time,
throughout its length and breadth, in the days of
Queen Elizabeth.
Nay, out of this very anxiety to minister to the
craving vanity of a weak and worthless woman
the devices to which it gave rise and the laborers
whom it called into action have arisen results
which are not amongst the least happy or important
of those by its connection with which the Christ-
60 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
mas festival stands recommended. Under these
impulses, the old dramatic entertainments of
which we shall have occasion to speak more at
large hereafter took a higher character and as-
sumed a more consistent form. The first regular
English tragedy, called " Ferrex and Porrex, " and
the entertainment of " Gammer Gurton's Needle,"
were both productions of the early period of this
queen's reign ; and amid the crowd of her wor-
shippers (alas that it is so!) rose up with the
star upon his forehead which is to burn for all
time the very first of all created beings, William
Shakespeare. These are amongst the strange
anomalies which the world, as it is constituted, so
often presents, and must present at times, consti-
tute it how we will. Shakespeare doing homage to
Queen Elizabeth ! The loftiest genius and the
noblest heart that have yet walked this earth, in a
character merely human, bowing down before this
woman with the soul of a milliner and no heart at
all ! The " bright particular star " humbling it-
self before the temporal crown ! The swayer
of hearts, the ruler of all men's minds, in virtue
of his own transcendent nature, recognizing the
supremacy of this overgrown child, because she
presided over the temporalities of a half eman-
cipated nation, by rights derived to her from others
and sanctioned by no qualities of her own !
And yet if to the low passions of this vulgar
queen, and the patronage which they led her to ex-
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON. 6 1
tend to all who could best minister to their gratifi-
cation, we owe any part of that development by
which this consummate genius expanded itself,
then do we stand in some degree indebted to her
for one of the greatest boons which has been be-
stowed upon the human race ; and as between
her and mankind in general (for the accounts be-
tween her and individuals, and still more that
between her and God, stand uninfluenced by
this item) there is a large amount of good to be
placed to her credit. Against her follies of a day
there would have to be set her promotion of a wis-
dom whose lessons are for all time ; against the
tears which she caused to flow, the human anguish
which she inflicted, and the weary, pining hours of
the captives whom she made, would stand the tears
of thousands dried away, many and many an aching
heart beguiled of its sorrow, and many a captive
taught to feel that
" Stone walls do not a prison make,
Nor iron bars a cage ; "
all the chords of human feeling touched with a
hand that soothes as did the harp of David, all
the pages of human suffering stored with consola-
tions !
To any one who will amuse himself by looking
over the Miracle Plays and Masques, which were
replaced by the more regular forms of dramatic
entertainment, and will then regale himself by the
62 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
perusal of " Gammer Gurton's Needle " or " Fer-
rex and Porrex," which came forward with higher
pretensions in the beginning of this reign, there
will appear reason to be sufficiently astonished at
the rapid strides by which dramatic excellence was
attained before its close and during the next, even
without taking Shakespeare into the account at
all. But when we turn to the marvels of this great
magician, and find that in his hands not only were
the forms of the drama perfected, but that, with-
out impeding the action or impairing the interest
invested in those forms, and besides his excursions
into the regions of imagination and his creations
out of the natural world he has touched every
branch of human knowledge and struck into every
train of human thought; that without learning, in
the popular sense, he has arrived at all the results
and embodied all the wisdom which learning is
only useful if it teaches ; that we can be placed
in no imaginable circumstances and under the in-
fluence of no possible feelings of which we do
not find exponents, and such exponents ! "in
sweetest music," on his page ; and above all,
when we find that all the final morals to be drawn
from all his writings are hopeful ones, that all the
lessons which all his agents joy or sorrow, pain
or pleasure are made alike to teach are lessons
of goodness it is impossible to attribute all this
to aught but a revelation, or ascribe to him any
character but that of a prophet. Shakespeare knew
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON. 63
more than any other mere man ever knew; and
none can tell how that knowledge came to him.
"All men's business and bosoms " lay open to him.
We should not like to have him quoted against
us on any subject. Nothing escaped him, and he
never made a mistake (we are not speaking of
technical ones). He was the universal interpreter
into language of the human mind, and he knew
all the myriad voices by which nature speaks. He
reminds us of the vizier in the Eastern story, who is
said to have understood the languages of all animals.
The utterings of the elements, the voices of beasts
and of birds, Shakespeare could translate into the
language of men ; and the thoughts and sentiments
of men he rendered into words as sweet as the sing-
ing of birds. If the reign of Elizabeth had been
illustrated only by the advent of this great spirit, it
might itself have accounted for some portion of that
prejudice which (illustrated, as in fact it was, by
much that was great and noble) blinds men still
or induces them to shut their eyes to the true
personal claims and character of that queen.
But we are digressing, again, as who does not
when the image of Shakespeare comes across him ?
To return :
The court celebrations of Christmas were ob-
served throughout the reign of the first James ; and
the Prince Charles himself was an occasional per-
former in the pageantries prepared for the occasion,
at great cost. But at no period do they appear to
64 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
have been more zealously sought after, or performed
with more splendor, than during that which imme-
diately preceded the persecution, from whose effects
they have never since recovered into anything like
their former lustihood. In the early years of Charles
the First's reign, the court pageants of this season
were got up with extraordinary brilliancy, the king
with the lords of his court, and the queen with her
ladies, frequently taking parts therein. This was the
case in 1630-31 ; and at the Christmas of 1632-33
the queen, says Sandys, "got up a pastoral in
Somerset House, in which it would seem she herself
took a part. There were masques at the same time,
independently of this performance, the cost of which
considerably exceeded ,2,000, besides that portion
of the charge which was borne by the office of the
revels and charged to the accounts of that depart-
ment." In the same year, we learn that a grant of
^450 was made to George Kirke, Esq., gentleman
of the robes, for the masking attire of the king and
his party. In 1637 tnere is a warrant, under the
privy seal, to the same George Kirke for ,150, to
provide the masking dress of the king ; and, in the
same year, another to Edmund Taverner for ^1,400
towards the expenses of a masque to be presented at
Whitehall on the ensuing Twelfth Night. We have
selected these from similar examples furnished by
Sandys, in order to give our readers some idea of
the sums expended in these entertainments,
which sums will appear very considerable when
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON. 65
estimated by the difference between the value of
money in our days and that of two hundred years
ago. Several of the masques presented at court dur-
ing this reign, and the preceding ones, were written
by Ben Jonson.
During the whole of this time, the forms of
court ceremonial appear to have been aped, and the
royal establishments imitated as far as possible, by
the more powerful nobles ; and the masques and
pageantries exhibited for the royal amusement were
accordingly reproduced or rivalled by them at their
princely mansions in the country. Corporate and
other public bodies caught the infection all over
the land ; and each landed proprietor and country
squire endeavored to enact such state in the eyes
of his own retainers, as his means would allow.
The sports and festivities of the season were every-
where taken under the protection of the lord of the
soil ; and all classes of his dependants had a cus-
tomary claim upon the hospitalities which he pre-
pared for the occasion. The masques of the court
and of the nobles were imitated in the mummings
of the people, of which we give a representation
here, and which we shall have occasion particularly
to describe hereafter, they having survived the
costly pageants of which they were the humble rep-
resentatives. The festival was thus rendered a
universal one, and its amusements brought within
the reach of the indigent and the remote. The
peasant, and even the pauper, were made, as it were,
5
66 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
once a year sharers in the mirth of their immediate
lord, and even of the monarch himself. The labor-
ing classes had enlarged privileges during this sea-
son, not only by custom, but by positive enactment ;
and restrictive acts of Parliament, by which they
were prohibited from certain games at other periods,
contained exceptions in favor of the Christmas-
tide. Nay, folly was, as it were, crowned, and dis-
order had a license ! Sandys quotes from Leland
the form of a proclamation given in his " Itine-
rary " as having been made by the sheriff of York,
wherein it is declared that all "thieves, dice-players,
carders " (with some other characters by name that
are usually repudiated by the guardians of order)
" and all other imthrifty folke, be welcome to the
towne, whether they come late or early, att the rev-
erence of the high feast of Youle, till the twelve
dayes be passed." The terms of this proclamation
were, no doubt, not intended to be construed in a
grave and literal sense, but were probably meant to
convey something like a satire upon the unbounded
license of the season which they thus announce.
There are very pleasant evidences of the care
which was formerly taken, in high quarters, that the
poor should not be robbed of their share in this fes-
tival. The yearly increasing splendor of the royal
celebrations appears at one time to have threatened
that result, by attracting the country gentlemen
from their own seats, and thereby withdrawing them
from the presidency of those sports which were
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON. 67
likely to languish in their absence. Accordingly, we
find an order, in 1589, issued to the gentlemen of
Norfolk and Suffolk, commanding them " to depart
from London before Christmas, and to repair to
their countries, there to keep hospitality amongst
their neighbors." And similar orders appear to
have been from time to time necessary, and from
time to time repeated.
Amongst those bodies who were distinguished for
the zeal of their Christmas observances, honorable
mention may be made of the two English universi-
ties ; and we shall have occasion hereafter to show
that traces of the old ceremonials linger still in
those their ancient haunts. But the reader who is
unacquainted with this subject would scarcely be
prepared to look for the most conspicuous celebra-
tion of these revels, with all their antics and mum-
meries, in the grave and dusty retreats of the law.
Such, however, was the case. The lawyers beat
the doctors hollow. Their ancient halls have rung
with the sounds of a somewhat barbarous revelry ;
and the walls thereof, had they voices, could tell
many an old tale, which the present occupants might
not consider as throwing any desirable light upon
the historical dignities of the body to which they
belong. Our readers, no doubt, remember a certain
scene in " Guy Mannering," wherein the farmer
Dinmont and Colonel Mannering are somewhat in-
considerately intruded upon the carousals of Mr.
Counsellor Pleydell at his tavern in the city of
68 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
Edinburgh and find that worthy lawyer in what
are called his "altitudes," being deeply engaged
in the ancient and not very solemn pastime of
" High Jinks." Their memory may probably pre-
sent the counsellor " enthroned as a monarch in
an elbow-chair placed on the dining-table, his
scratch-wig on one side, his head crowned with a
bottle-slider, his eye leering with an expression be-
twixt fun and the effects of wine," and recall, as-
sisted by the jingle, some of the high discourse of
his surrounding court :
" Where is Gerunto now ? and what 's become of him ? "
" Gerunto 's drowned, because he could not swim," etc.
Now, if our readers shall be of opinion as
Colonel Mannering and the farmer were that
the attitude and the occupation were scarcely con-
sistent with the dignity of a gentleman whom they
had come to consult on very grave matters, we may
be as much to blame as was the tavern-waiter on
that occasion, in introducing them to the revels of
the Inns of Court. We will do what we can to
soften such censure by stating that there certainly
appears at times to have arisen a suspicion, in the
minds of a portion of the profession, that the wig
and gown were not figuring to the best possible
advantage on these occasions. For, in the reign
of the first James, we find an order issued by the
benchers of Lincoln's Inn, whereby the " under
barristers were, by decimation, put out of commons
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON. 69
because the whole bar offended by not dancing on
Candlemas Day preceding, according to the ancient
order of the society, when the judges were pres-
ent ; " and this order is accompanied by a threat
" that, if the fault were repeated, they should be
fined or disbarred."
There seems to have been a contest between the
four Inns of Court as to which should get up these
pageantries with the greatest splendor, and occa-
sionally a struggle between the desire of victory
and the disinclination, or perhaps inability, to fur-
nish the heavy cost at which that victory was to be
secured. Most curious particulars on these subjects
are furnished by the accompt-books of the houses :
by the " Gesta Grayorum " (which was published
for the purpose of describing a celebrated Christmas
kept at Gray's Inn in 1594, and had its title imi-
tated from the then popular work called the " Gesta
Romanorum ") ; by Dugdale, in his " Origines
Juridiciales," ; and by Nichols, in his " Progresses
of Queen Elizabeth." For some time Lincoln's
Inn appears to have carried it all its own way,
having been first on the ground. The Christmas
celebrations seem to have been kept by this society
from as early a period as the reign of Henry VI. ;
although it was not until the reign of Henry VIII.
that they began to grow into celebrity, or at least
that we have any account of their arrangements.
When, however, the societies of the two Temples,
and that of Gray's Inn, began, with a laudable
70 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
jealousy, to contest the palm of splendor, the ne-
cessary expenditure appears occasionally to have
" given them pause." Accordingly, they held anx-
ious meetings, at the approach of the season, to
decide the important question whether Christmas
should be kept that year or not ; and one of the
registers of the society of Lincoln's Inn, bearing
date the 2yth of November, in the twenty-second
year of the reign of Henry VIII. contains the follow-
ing order : " Yt is agreed that if the two Temples do
kepe Chrystemas, then Chrystemas to be kept here ;
and to know this, the Steward of the House ys
commanded to get knowledge, and to advertise my
master by the next day at night."
There is a curious story told in Baker's Chron-
icle of an awkward predicament into which the
society of Gray's Inn brought themselves by a play
which they enacted amongst their Christmas revels
of 1527. The subject of this play was to the effect
that " Lord Governance was ruled by Dissipation
and Negligence ; by whose evil order Lady Public-
Weal was put from Governance." Now, if these
gentlemen did not intend, by this somewhat deli-
cate moral, any insinuation against the existing
state of things (which, being lawyers, and there-
fore courtiers, there is good motive to believe they
did not), it is, at all events, certain that, as lawyers,
they ought to have known better how to steer clear
of all offence to weak consciences. That respectable
minister, Cardinal Wolsey, felt himself (as we think
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON. 71
he had good right to do) greatly scandalized at
what, if not designed, was, by accident, a palpa-
ble hit ; and, in order to teach the gentlemen of
Gray's Inn that they were responsible for wounds
given, if they happened to shoot arrows in the dark,
he divested the ingenious author, Sergeant Roe,
of his coif, and committed him to the Fleet, to-
gether with one of the actors, of the name of Moyle,
in order to afford them leisure for furnishing him
with a satisfactory explanation of the matter.
In Dugdale's " Origines Juridiciales," we have an
account of a magnificent Christmas which was kept
at the Inner Temple, in the fourth year of Queen
Elizabeth's reign ; at which the Lord Robert
Dudley, afterwards Earl of Leicester, presided,
under the mock-title of Palaphilos, Prince of Sophie,
High Constable Marshal of the Knights Templars,
and Patron of the honorable order of Pegasus.
A potentate with such a title would have looked
very foolish without a " tail ; " and accordingly he
had for his master of the game no less a lawyer
than Christopher Hatton, afterwards Lord Chan-
cellor of England, with four masters of the revels,
a variety of other officers, and fourscore persons
forming a guard. Gerard Leigh, who was so fortu-
nate as to obtain the dignity of a knight of Pegasus,
describes, as an eye-witness, in his " Accidence of
Armorie," the solemn fooleries which were enacted
on the occasion by these worthies of the sword and
of the gown.
72 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
Of course, it was not to be expected that such
shrewd courtiers as lawyers commonly are, if they
had ever kept Christmas at all, should fail to do
so during the reign of this virgin queen, when its
celebration offered them such admirable opportu-
nities for the administration of that flattery which
was so agreeable to her Majesty, and might possibly
be so profitable to themselves. We have great
pleasure in recording a speech made by her Maj-
esty on one of these occasions, nearly so much as
two centuries and a half ago, but which for its great
excellence has come down to our days. The gen-
tlemen of Gray's Inn (their wits, probably, a little
sharpened by the mistake which they had made in
her father's time) had ventured upon a dramatic
performance again ; and, in the course of a masque
which they represented before the queen's Majesty,
had administered to her copious draughts of that
nectar on which her Majesty's vanity was known to
thrive so marvellously. They appear, however, with
a very nice tact, to have given her no more of it on
this occasion than was sufficient to put her Majesty
into spirits, without intoxicating her, for by this
period of her life it took a great deal of that sort of
thing to intoxicate the queen's Majesty ; and the
effect was of the pleasantest kind, and could not
fail to be most satisfactory to the gentlemen of
Gray's Inn. For after the masque was finished (in
which we presume there had been a little dancing
by the lawyers who, would, as in duty bound, have
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON. 73
stood on their wigs to please her Majesty), and on
the courtiers attempting, in their turn, to execute a
dance, her Majesty was most graciously pleased to
exclaim, " What ! shall we have bread and cheese
after a banquet? " meaning thereby, we presume,
to imply that the courtiers could not hope to leap
as high or, in any respect, to cut such capers as the
lawyers had done. Now, this speech of the virgin
queen we have reported here less for the sake of any
intrinsic greatness in the thought or elegance in
the form than because, out of a variety of speeches
by her Majesty, which have been carefully pre-
served, we think this is about as good as any other,
and has the additional recommendation (which so
few of the others have) of exhibiting the virgin
queen in a good humor. And, further, because
having recorded the disgrace into which the gen-
tlemen of Gray's Inn danced themselves, in the
lifetime of her illustrious father, it is but right that
we should likewise record the ample indemnification
which they must have considered themselves to have
received, at the lips of his virgin daughter.
The celebrations at the Inns of Court were from
time to time continued, down to the period of the
civil troubles which darkened the reign of Charles I. ;
and so lately as the year 1641, when they had al-
ready commenced, we find it recorded by Evelyn,
in his Memoirs, that he was elected one of the
comptrollers of the Middle Temple revellers, "as the
fashion of the young students and gentlemen was,
74 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
the Christmas being kept this yeare with greate
solemnity." During this reign, we discover the
several societies lessening their expenses by a very
wise compromise of their disputes for supremacy ;
for in the eighth year thereof the four Inns of Court
provided a Christmas masque in conjunction, for the
entertainment of the court, which cost the startling
sum of ,24,000 of the money of that day, and
in return King Charles invited one hundred and
twenty gentlemen of the four Inns to a masque at
Whitehall on the Shrove-Tuesday following.
That our readers may form some idea of the
kind of sports which furnished entertainment to
men of no less pretension than Hatton and Coke
and Crewe, we will extract for them a few more
particulars of the ceremonies usually observed at
the grand Christmases of the Inner Temple,
before quitting this part of the subject.
In the first place, it appears that on Christmas
Eve there was a banquet in the hall, at which three
masters of the revels were present, the oldest of
whom, after dinner and supper, was to sing a carol,
and to command other gentlemen to sing with him ;
and in all this we see nothing which is not perfectly
worthy of all imitation now. Then, on each of the
twelve nights, before and after supper were revels
and dancing ; and if any of these revels and dan-
cing were performed in company with the fair sex
(which, on the face of the evidence, doth not ap-
pear), then we have none of the objections to urge
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON. 75
against them which we have ventured to insinuate
against the solemn buffooneries, to which the bar
was fined for refusing to surrender itself, in the
time of James I. Neither do we find anything re-
pugnant to our modern tastes in the announcement
that the breakfasts of the following mornings were
very substantial ones, consisting of brawn, mustard,
and malmsey, which the exhaustion of the previous
night's dancing might render necessary; nor that
all the courses were served with music, which we
intend that some of our own shall be this coming
Christmas. But against most of that which follows
we enter our decided protest, as not only very
absurd in itself, but eminently calculated to spoil a
good dinner.
On St. Stephen's Day, we learn that, after the
first course was served in, the constable marshal
was wont to enter the hall (and we think he had
much better have come in, and said all he had to
say beforehand) bravely arrayed with "a fair rich
compleat harneys, white and bright and gilt, with a
nest of fethers, of all colours, upon his crest or
helm, and a gilt pole ax in his hand," and, no doubt,
thinking himself a prodigiously fine fellow. He
was accompanied by the lieutenant of the Tower,
"armed with a fair white armour," also wearing
"fethers," and "with alike pole ax in his hand,"
and of course also thinking himself a very fine fellow.
With them came sixteen trumpeters, preceded by
four drums and fifes, and attended by four men
76 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
clad in white " barneys," from the middle upwards,
having halberds in their hands, and bearing on their
shoulders a model of the Tower, and each and
every one of these latter personages, in his degree,
having a consciousness that he, too, was a fine
fellow. Then all these fine fellows, with the drums
and music, and with all their " fethers " and finery,
went three times round the fire, whereas, consider-
ing that the boar's head was cooling all the time,
we think once might have sufficed. Then the con-
stable marshal, after three courtesies, knelt down be-
fore the Lord Chancellor, with the lieutenant doing
the same behind him, and then and there deliber-
ately proceeded to deliver himself of an " oration of
a quarter of an hour's length," the purport of which
was to tender his services to the Lord Chancellor,
which, we think, at such a time he might have
contrived to do in fewer words. To this the Chan-
cellor was unwise enough to reply that he would
"take farther advice therein," when it would have
been much better for him to settle the matter at
once, and proceed to eat his dinner. However,
this part of the ceremony ended at last by the con-
stable marshal and the lieutenant obtaining seats at
the Chancellor's table, upon the former giving up
his sword : and then enter, for a similar purpose,
the master of the game, apparelled in green velvet,
and the ranger of the forest, in a green suit of
" satten," bearing in his hand a green bow, and
" divers " arrows, " with either of them a hunting-
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON. 77
horn about their necks, blowing together three blasts
of venery." These worthies, also, thought it neces-
sary to parade their finery three times around the
fire ; and having then made similar obeisances, and
offered up a similar petition in a similar posture,
they were finally inducted into a similar privilege.
But though seated at the Chancellor's table, and
no doubt sufficiently roused by the steam of its
good things, they were far enough as yet from get-
ting anything to eat, as a consequence ; and the
next ceremony is one which strikingly marks the
rudeness of the times. "A huntsman cometh into
the hall, with a fox, and a purse-net with a cat, both
bound at the end of a staff, and with them nine or
ten couple of hounds, with the blowing of hunting-
horns. And the fox and the cat are set upon by
the hounds, and killed beneath the fire." " What
this ' merry disport ' signified (if practised) before
the Reformation," says a writer in Mr. Hone's Year
Book, " I know not. In ' Ane compendious boke
of godly and spiritual songs, Edinburgh, 1621,
printed from an old copy,' are the following lines,
seemingly referring to some such pageant :
' The hunter is Christ that hunts in haist,
The hunds are Peter and Pawle,
The paip is the fox, Rome is the Rox
That rubbis us on the gall.' "
After these ceremonies, the welcome permission
to betake themselves to the far more interesting
one of an attack upon the good things of the feast
78 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
appears to have been at length given ; but at the
close of the second course the subject of receiving
the officers who had tendered their Christmas ser-
vice was renewed. Whether the gentlemen of the
law were burlesquing their own profession inten-
tionally or whether it was only an awkward hit,
like that which befell their brethren of Gray's Inn,
does not appear. However, the common serjeant
made what is called " a plausible speech," insisting
on the necessity of these officers " for the better
reputation of the Commonwealth ; " and he was
followed, to the same effect, by the king's serjeant-
at-law till the Lord Chancellor silenced them by
desiring a respite of further advice, which it is
greatly to be marvelled he had not done sooner.
And thereupon he called upon the "ancientest of
the masters of the revels " for a song, a proceeding
to which we give our unqualified approbation.
So much for the dinner. After supper, the con-
stable marshal again presented himself, if possible
finer than before, preceded by drums, as so fine
a man ought to be, and mounted on a scaffold
borne by four men. After again going thrice round
the hearth, he dismounted from his elevation, and
having set a good example by first playing the figu-
rant himself for the edification of the court, called
upon the nobles, by their respective Christmas names,
to do the same. Of the styles and titles which it
was considered humorous to assume on such occa-
sions, and by which he called up his courtiers to
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON. 79
dance, our readers may take the following for speci-
mens :
" Sir Francis Flatterer, of Fowlehurst, in the
county of Buckingham."
" Sir Randle Rackabite, of Rascall Hall, in the
county of Rabchell."
" Sir Morgan Mumchance, of Much Monkery, in
the county of Mad Popery."
And so on, with much more of the same kind,
which we are sure our readers will spare us, or
rather thank us for sparing them. The ceremonies
of St. John's Day were, if possible, more absurd than
those by which St. Stephen was honored ; but, that
we may take leave of the lawyers on good terms,
and with a word of commendation, we will simply
add that the concluding one is stated to be that
on the Thursday following " the Chancellor and
company partook of dinner of roast beef and veni-
son pasties, and at supper of mutton and hens
roasted," which we take to have been not only the
most sensible proceeding of the whole series, but
about as sensible a thing as they or anybody else
could well do.
So important were these Christmas celebrations
deemed by our ancestors, and such was the earnest-
ness bestowed upon their preparation, that a special
officer was appointed for that purpose, and to pre-
side over the festival with large privileges, very
considerable appointments, and a retinue which in
course of time came to be no insignificant imitation
80 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
of a prince's. We are of course speaking at pres-
ent of the officer who was appointed to the super-
intendence of the Christmas ceremonials at court.
The title by which this potentate was usually distin-
guished in England was that of " Lord of Misrule,"
"Abbot of Misrule," or " Master of Merry Disports ; "
and his office was, in fact, that of a temporary " Mas-
ter of the Revels " (which latter title was formerly
that of a permanent and distinguished officer at-
tached to the household of our kings). Accordingly
we find that amongst those of the more powerful
nobles who affected an imitation of the royal ar-
rangements in their Christmas establishments, this
Christmas officer (when they appointed one to pre-
side over their private Christmas celebrations) was
occasionally nominated as their " Master of the
Revels." In the Household-Book of the Northum-
berland family, amongst the directions given for the
order of the establishment, it is stated that " My
lorde useth and accustomyth yerly to gyf hym which
is ordynede to be the MASTER OF THE REVELLS yerly
in my lordis hous in cristmas for the overseyinge
and orderinge of his lordschips Playes, Interludes,
and Dresinge that is plaid befor his lordship in his
hous in the xijth dayes of Cristenmas, and they to
have in rewarde for that caus yerly, xxj 1 ." In the
Inns of Court, where this officer formed no part of
a household, but was a member elected out of their
own body for his ingenuity, he was commonly dig-
nified by a title more appropriate to the extensive
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON. 8 1
authority with which he was invested, and the state
with which he was furnished for its due maintenance ;
namely, that of " Christmas Prince," or sometimes
" King of Christmas." He is the same officer who
was known in Scotland as the " Abbot of Unreason,"
and bears a close resemblance to the " Abbas Stul-
torum," who presided over the Feast of Fools in
France, and the " Abbe" de la MalgourverneY' who
ruled the sports in certain provinces of that king-
dom. In a note to Ellis's edition of Brand's
" Popular Antiquities," we find a quotation from Mr.
Warton (whose " History of English Poetry " we
have not at hand) in which mention is made of an
" Abbe" de Liesse," and a reference given to Car-
pentier's Supplement to Du Cange, for the title
"Abbas Lsetitige." We mention these, to enable
the antiquarian portion of our readers to make the
reference for themselves. Writing in the country,
we have not access to the works in question, and
could not, in these pages, go farther into the matter
if we had.
We have already stated that the " Lord of Mis-
rule " appears to bear a considerable resemblance
to that ruler or king who was anciently appointed to
preside over the sports of the Roman Saturnalia ;
and we find on looking farther into the subject,
that we are corroborated in this view by one who,
of course, asserts the resemblance for the purpose
of making it a matter of reproach. The notorious
Prynne, in his " Histrio-Mastix," affirms (and quotes
6
82 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
Polydore Virgil to the same effect) that " our
Christmas lords of Misrule, together with dancing,
masques, mummeries, stage-players, and such other
Christmas disorders, now in use with Christians,
were derived from these Roman Saturnalia and
Bacchanalian festivals ; which," adds he, " should
cause all pious Christians eternally to abominate
them." We should not, however, omit to mention
that by some this officer has been derived from the
ancient ceremony of the Boy-Bishop. Faber speaks
of him as originating in an old Persico-Gothic
festival in honor of Buddha : and Purchas, in his
" Pilgrimage," as quoted in the Aubrey manu-
scripts, says, that the custom is deduced from the
" Feast in Babylon, kept in honour of the goddess
Dorcetha, for five dayes together ; during which
time the masters were under the dominion of their
servants, one of which is usually sett over the rest,
and royally cloathed, and was called Sogan, that is,
Great Prince."
The title, however, by which this officer is most
generally known is that of Lord of Misrule. " There
was," says Stow, " in the feast of Christmas, in the
king's house, wheresoever he was lodged, a Lord
of Misrule, or Master of merry Disports ; and the
like had ye for the house of every nobleman of
honour or good worship, were he spiritual or tem-
poral. Among the which the Mayor of London
and either of the Sheriffs had their several Lords of
Misrule ever contending, without quarrel or offence,
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON. 83
which should make the rarest pastimes to delight
the beholders."
Of the antiquity of this officer in England, we
have not been able to find any satisfactory account ;
but we discover traces of him almost as early as we
have any positive records of the various sports by
which the festival of this season was supported.
Polydore Virgil speaks of the splendid spectacles,
the masques, dancings, etc., by which it was illus-
trated as far back as the close of the twelfth cen-
tury ; and it is reasonable to suppose that something
in the shape of a master of these public ceremonies
must have existed then, to preserve order as well as
furnish devices, particularly as the hints for the one
and the other seem to have been taken from the
celebrations of the heathens. As early as the year
1489 Leland speaks of an Abbot of Misrule " that
made much sport, and did right well his office."
Henry the Seventh's " boke of paymentis," pre-
served in the Chapter House, is stated by Sandys to
contain several items of disbursement to the Lord
of Misrule (or Abbot, as he is therein sometimes
called) for different years " in rewarde for his besynes
in Christenmes holydays," none of which exceeded
the sum of 6. 13$. ^d. This sum multiplied as
we imagine it ought to be by something like fifteen,
to give the value thereof in our days certainly af-
fords no very liberal remuneration to an officer
whose duties were of any extent : and we mention
it that our readers may contrast it with the lavish
84 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
appointments of the same functionary in after
times. Henry, however, was a frugal monarch,
though it was a part of his policy to promote the
amusements of the people ; and from the treasures
which that frugality created, his immediate succes-
sors felt themselves at liberty to assume a greater
show. In the subsequent reign, the yearly pay-
ments to the Lord of Misrule had already been
raised as high as ^15 6^. &/. ; and the entertain-
ments over which he presided were furnished at a
proportionably increased cost.
It is not, however, until the reign of the young
monarch, Edward the Sixth, that this officer appears
to have attained his highest dignities ; and during the
subsequent reign we find him playing just such a
part as might be expected from one whose business
it was to take the lead in revels such as we have had
occasion to describe ; namely, that of arch-buffoon.
In Hollinshed's Chronicle, honorable mention is
made of a certain George Ferrers, therein described
as a ' lawyer, a poet, and an historian," who sup-
plied the office well in the fifth year of Edward the
Sixth, and who was rewarded by the young king
with princely liberality. This George Ferrers was
the principal author of that well-known work, the
" Mirrour for Magistrates ; " and Mr. Kempe, the
editor of the recently published " Loseley Manu-
scripts," mentions his having been likewise distin-
guished by military services, in the reign of Henry
the Eighth. It appears that the young king having
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON. 85
fallen into a state of melancholy after the condem-
nation of his uncle, the Protector, it was determined
to celebrate the approaching Christmas festival with
more than usual splendor, for the purpose of divert-
ing his mind ; and this distinguished individual was
selected to preside ever the arrangements.
The publication of the " Loseley Manuscripts "
enables us to present our readers with some very
curious particulars, illustrative at once of the nature
of those arrangements, and of the heavy cost at
which they were furnished. By an order in council,
dated the 3ist of September, 1552, and addressed
to Sir Thomas Cawarden, at that time Master of the
King's Revels, after reciting the appointment of
the said George Ferrers, the said Sir Thomas is in-
formed that it is his Majesty's pleasure " that you se
hym furneshed for hym and his bande, as well in
apparell as all other necessaries, of such stuff as
remayneth in your office. And whatsoever wanteth
in the same, to take order that it be provided ac-
cordinglie by yo r discretion."
For the manner in which the Lord of Misrule
availed himself of this unlimited order, we recom-
mend to such of our readers as the subject may
interest a perusal of the various estimates and ac-
counts published by Mr. Kempe from the manu-
scripts in question. Were it not that they would
occupy too much of our space, we should have been
glad to introduce some of them here, for the pur-
pose of conveying to the reader a lively notion of
86 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
the gorgeousness of apparel and appointment ex-
hibited on this occasion. We must, however, pre-
sent them with some idea of the train for whom
these costly preparations were made, and of the
kind of mock court with which the Lord of Misrule
surrounded himself.
Amongst these we find mention made of a chan-
cellor, treasurer, comptroller, vice-chamberlain, lords-
councillors, divine, philosopher, astronomer, poet,
physician, apothecary, master of requests, civilian,
disard (an old word for clown), gentleman-ushers,
pages of honor, sergeants-at-arms, provost-marshal,
under-marshal, footmen, messengers, trumpeter,
herald, orator ; besides hunters, jugglers, tumblers,
band, fools, friars (a curious juxtaposition, which
Mr. Kempe thinks might intend a satire), and a
variety of others. None seem in fact to have been
omitted who were usually included in the retinue
of a prince ; and over this mock court the mock
monarch appears to have presided with a sway as
absolute, as far as regarded the purposes of his
appointment, as the actual monarch himself over
the weightier matters of the state. But the most
curious part of these arrangements is that by which
(as appears from one of the lists printed from these
manuscripts) he seems to have been accompanied
in his processions by an heir-at-law, and three other
children, besides two base sons. These two base
sons, we presume, are bastards ; and that the estab-
lishment of a potentate could not be considered
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON. 87
complete without them. The editor also mentions
that he was attended by an almoner, who scattered
amongst the crowd during his progresses, certain
coins made by the wire-drawers ; and remarks that
if these bore the portrait and superscription of the
Lord of Misrule, they would be rare pieces in the
eye of a numismatist.
The following very curious letter, which we will
give entire, will furnish our readers with a lively
picture of the pageantries of that time, and of the
zeal with which full-grown men set about amuse-
ments of a kind which are now usually left to chil-
dren of a smaller growth. Playing at kings is in
our day one of the sports of more juvenile actors.
The letter is addressed by Master George Ferrers
to Sir Thomas Cawarden ; and gives some account
of his intended entry at the court at Christmas, and
of his devices for furnishing entertainment during
the festival.
SIR, Whereas you required me to write, for that
y r busynes is great, I have in as few wordes as I
maie signefied to you such things as I thinke moste
necessarie for my purpose.
ffirst, as towching my Introduction. Whereas the
laste yeare my devise was to cum of oute of the mone
(moon) this yeare I imagine to cum oute of a place
called vasttim vacuum, the great waste, as moche to
saie as a place voide or emptie w th out the worlde,
where is neither fier, ayre, nor earth ; and that I have
bene remayning there sins the last yeare. And, be-
88 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
cause of certaine devises which I have towching this
matter, I wold, yf it were possyble, have all myne
apparell blewe, the first dale that I p'sent my self to
the King's Ma Ue ; and even as I shewe my self that
daie, so my mynd is in like order and in like suets
(suits) to shew myself at my comyng into London after
the halowed daies.
Againe, how I shall cum into the Courte, whether
under a canopie, as the last yeare, or in a chare
triumphall, or uppon some straunge beaste, that I
reserve to you ; but the serpente with sevin heddes,
cauled hidra, is the chief beast of myne armes, and
wholme 1 (holm) bush e is the devise of my crest, my
worde 2 is semper ferians, I alwaies feasting or kep-
ing holie daies. Uppon Christmas daie I send a
solempne ambassad" to the King's Ma 1 ' by an herrald,
a trumpet, an orator speaking in a straunge language,
an interpreter or a truchman with hym, to which
p'sons ther were requiset to have convenient farnyture,
which I referre to you.
I have provided one to plaie uppon a kettell drom
with his boye, and a nother drome w th a fyffe, whiche
must be apparelled like turkes garments, according to
the paternes I send you herewith. On St. Stephen's
daie, I wold, if it were possyble, be with the King's
Ma tie before dynner. Mr. Windham, being my Ad-
myrall, is appointed to receive me beneth the bridge
with the King's Brigandyne, and other vessells
apointed for the same purpose ; his desire is to have
the poope of his vessell covered w" 1 white and blew,
like as I signefie to you by a nother 1.
1 The evergreen holly is meant, a bearing peculiarly ap-
propriate to the lord of Christmas sports.
2 His motto or impress.
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON. 89
Sir George Howard, being my M r . of the Horsis,
receiveth me at my landing at Grenwiche with a spare
horse and my pages of hono r , one carieng my hed
pece, a nother my shelde, the thirde my sword, the
fourth my axe. As for their furniture I know nothing
as yet provided, either for my pages or otherwise,
save a hed peece that I caused to be made. My
counsailo, with suche other necessarie psons y* at-
tend uppon me that daie, also must be consydered.
There maie be no fewer than sixe counsailo at the
least ; I must also have a divine, a philosopher, an
astronomer, a poet, a phisician, a potecarie, a m r of
requests, a sivilian, a disard, John Smyth, two gentle-
men ushers, besides juglers, tomblers, fooles, friers,
and suche other.
The residue of the wholie daies I will spend in
other devises : as one daie in feats of armes, and then
wolde I have a challeng pformed with hobbie horsis,
where I purpose to be in pson. Another daie in hunt-
ing and hawking, the residue of the tyme shalbe spent
in other devisis, which I will declare to you by mouth
to have yo r ayde and advice therin.
S r , I know not howe ye be provided to furnish me,
but suer methinks I shold have no lesse than five suets
of apparell, the first for the daie I come in, which shall
also serve me in London, and two other suets for the
twohalowed daies folowing, the fourth for newe yeares
daie, and the fifte for XII th daie.
Touching my suet of blew, I have sent you a
pece of velvet which hath a kinde of powdered er-
maines in it, vearie fytt for my wering, yf you so
thynke good. All other matters I referre tyll I shall
speake with you.
GEORGE FERRERS.
90 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
In other letters from this Lord of Misrule to the
Master of the Revels he applies for eight visors
for a drunken masque, and eight swords and dag-
gers for the same purpose ; twelve hobby-horses, two
Dryads, and Irish dresses for a man and woman ;
and seventy jerkins of buckram, or canvas painted
like mail, for seventy " hakbuturs," or musketeers of
his guard.
Such are some of the testimonies borne by the
parties themselves to their own right pleasant follies,
and the expense at which they maintained them ;
and to these we will add another, coming from an
adverse quarter, and showing the light in which
these costly levities had already come to be re-
garded by men of sterner minds so early as the
reign of Elizabeth. The following very curious
passage is part of an extract made by Brand, from a
most rare book entitled " The Anatomic of Abuses,"
the work of one Phillip Stubs, published in Lon-
don in 1585, and gives a quaint picture of the
Lord of Misrule and his retainers, as viewed through
Puritan optics.
" Firste," says Master Stubs, " all the wilde heades
of the parishe conventynge together, chuse them a
grand Capitaine (of mischeef) whom they innoble
with the title of my Lorde of Misserule, and hym
they crown with great solemnitie, and adopt for
their kyng. This kyng anoynted, chuseth for the
twentie, fourtie, three score, or a hundred lustie
guttes like to hymself. to waite uppon his lordely
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON. 91
majestic, and to guarde his noble persone. Then
every one of these his menne he investeth with his
liveries of greene, yellovve or some other light wan-
ton colour. And as though that were not (baudie)
gaudy enough I should saie, they bedecke them-
selves with scarffes, ribons, and laces, hanged all
over with golde rynges, precious stones, and other
jewelles : this doen, they tye about either legge
twentie or fourtie belles with rich handkercheefes
in their handes, and sometymes laied acrosse over
their shoulders and neckes, borrowed for the moste
parte of their pretie Mopsies and loovyng Bessies,
for bussyng them in the darcke. Thus thinges
sette in order, they have their hobbie horses, drag-
ons, and other antiques, together with their bau-
die pipers, and thunderyng drommers, to strike up
the Deville's Daunce withall " (meaning the Morris
Dance), "then marche these heathen companie
towardes the church and churche yarde, their
pipers pipyng, drommers thonderyng, their stumppes
dauncyng, their belles iynglyng, their handkerchefes
swyngyng about their heades like madmen, their
hobbie horses and other monsters skyrmishyng
amongst the throng : and in this sorte they goe to
the churche (though the minister bee at praier or
preachyng) dauncyng and swingyng their hand-
kercheefes over their heades, in the churche, like
devilles incarnate, with suche a confused noise that
no man can heare his ovvne voice. Then the
foolishe people, they looke, they stare, they laugh,
92 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
they fleere. and mount upon formes and pewes, to
see these goodly pageauntes, solemnized in this
sort. "
At the Christmas celebration held at Gray's Inn
in 1594, to which we have already alluded, the
person selected to fill the office of Christmas Prince
was a Norfolk gentleman of the name of Helmes,
whose leg, like that of Sir Andrew Aguecheek,
appears "to have been formed under the star of
a galliard." He is described as being " accom-
plished with all good parts, fit for so great a dignity,
and also a very proper man in personage, and very
active in dancing and revelling." The revels over
which this mock monarch presided were, as our
readers will remember, exhibited before Queen
Elizabeth ; and it was the exquisite performance of
this gentleman and his court which her Majesty
described as bearing the same relation for excellence
to those of her own courtiers which a banquet does
to bread and cheese. We must refer such of our
readers as are desirous of informing themselves
as to the nature and taste of the devices which could
make her Majesty so eloquent, to the " Gesta Grayo-
rum ; " contenting ourselves with giving them such
notion thereof, as well as of the high dignities which
appertained to a Lord of Misrule, as may be con-
veyed by a perusal of the magnificent style and
titles assumed by Mr. Henry Helmes on his ac-
cession. They were enough to have made her
Majesty jealous, if she had not been so good-natured
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON. 93
a queen ; for looking at the philosophy of the thing,
she was about as much a mock monarch as him-
self, and could not dance so well. To be sure, she
was acknowledged by this potentate as Lady Para-
mount ; and to a woman like Elizabeth, it was
something to receive personal homage from
" The High and Mighty Prince Henry, Prince of
Purpoole, Archduke of Stapulia and Bernardia;
Duke of High and Nether Holborn ; Marquis of
St. Giles and Tottenham ; Count Palatine of
Bloomsbury and Clerkenwell; Great Lord of the
Cantons of Islington, Kentish Town, Paddington,
and Knightsbridge ; Knight of the most Heroical
Order of the Helmet, and Sovereign of the
same " !
It is admitted that no man can be a great actor
who has not the faculty of divesting himself of his
personal identity, and persuading himself that he
really is, for the time, that which he represents him-
self to be ; his doing which will go far to per-
suade others into the same belief. Now as her
Majesty has pronounced upon the excellence of Mr.
Henry Helmes's acting, and if we are therefore
to suppose that that gentleman had contrived to
mystify both himself and her, she would naturally
be not a little vain of so splendid a vassal. But
seriously, it is not a little amusing to notice the
good faith with which these gentlemen appear to
have put on and worn their burlesque dignities, and
the real homage which they not only expected, but
94 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
actually received. If the tricks which they played
during their " brief authority," were not of that
mischievous kind which " make the angels weep,"
they were certainly fantastic enough to make those
who are "a little lower than the angels" smile. A
Lord Mayor in his gilt coach seems to be a trifle
compared with a Lord of Misrule entering the city
of London in former days ; and the following pas-
sage from Warton's " History of English Poetry,"
exhibits amusingly enough the sovereign functions
seriously exercised by this important personage,
and the homage, both ludicrous and substantial,
which he sometimes received :
"At a Christmas celebrated in the hall of the
Middle Temple, in the year 1635, the jurisdiction
privileges and parade of this mock monarch are
thus circumstantially described. He was attended
by his Lord Keeper, Lord Treasurer with eight
white staves, a Captain of his Band of Pensioners
and of his guard, and with two Chaplains who
were so seriously impressed with an idea of his regal
dignity that, when they preached before him on the
preceding Sunday in the Temple Church, on ascend-
ing the pulpit they saluted him with three low bows.
He dined both in the Hall and in his Privy Cham-
ber under a cloth of Estate. The pole-axes for his
Gentlemen Pensioners were borrowed of Lord Salis-
bury. Lord Holland, his temporary justice in Eyre,
supplies him with venison on demand; and the
Lord Mayor and Sheriffs of London with wine.
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON. 95
On Twelfth-day, at going to Church, he received
many petitions which he gave to his Master of Re-
quests ; and like other kings he had a favourite,
whom with others, gentlemen of high quality
he knighted at returning from Church."
The Christmas Prince on this occasion was Mr.
Francis Vivian, who expended from his own pri-
vate purse the large sum of .2,000 in support of
his dignities. Really, it must have tried the philos-
ophy of these gentlemen to descend from their tem-
porary elevation, into the ranks of ordinary life. A
deposed prince like that high and mighty prince,
Henry, Prince of Purpoole, must have felt, on get-
ting up on the morrow of Candlemas-day, some
portion of the sensations of Abou Hassan on the
morning which succeeded his Caliphate of a day,
when the disagreeable conviction was forced upon
him that he was no longer Commander of the
Faithful, and had no further claim to the services
of Cluster-of-Pearls, Morning-Star, Coral-Lips or
Fair-Face. In the case, however, of Mr. Francis
Vivian, it is stated that after his deposition he was
knighted by the king, by way, we suppose, of
breaking his fall.
In Wood's "Athenae Oxonienses," mention is
made of a very splendid Christmas ceremonial ob-
served at St. John's College, Oxford, in the reign of
our first James, which was presided over by a Mr.
Thomas Tooker, whom we elsewhere find called
"Tucker." From a manuscript account of this
96 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
exhibition, Wood quotes the titles assumed by this
gentleman in his character of Christmas Prince ;
and we will repeat them here, for the purpose of
showing that the legal cloisters were not the only
ones in which mirth was considered as no im-
peachment of professional gravity, and that hu-
mor (such as it is) was an occasional guest of the
wisdom which is proverbially said to reside in
wigs of all denominations. From a comparison
of these titles with those by which Mr. Henry
Helmes illustrated his own magnificence at Gray's
Inn, our readers may decide for themselves upon
the relative degrees of the wit which flourished be-
neath the shelter of the respective gowns. Though
ourselves a Cantab, we have no skill in the measure-
ment of the relations of small quantities. Of the
hearty mirth in each case there is little doubt ; and
humor of the finest quality could have done no
more than produce that effect, and might probably
have failed to do so much. The appetite is the
main point. " The heart 's all," as Davy says. A
small matter made our ancestors laugh, because
they brought stomachs to the feast of Momus.
And, Heaven save the mark ! through how many
national troubles has that same joyous tempera-
ment (which is the farthest thing possible from
levity, one of the phases of deep feeling, )
helped to bring the national mind ! The " merry
days " of England were succeeded by what may
be called her ''age of tears," the era of the senti-
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON. 97
mentalists, when young gentlemen ceased to wear
cravats, and leaned against pillars in drawing-rooms
in fits of moody abstraction or under the influence
of evident inspiration, and young ladies made
lachrymatories of their boudoirs, and met together
to weep, and in fact went through the world weep-
ing. Amid all its absurdity, there was some real
feeling at the bottom of this too ; and therefore
it, too, had its pleasure. But there is to be an
end of this also. Truly are we falling upon the
" evil days " of which we may say we " have no
pleasure in them." Men are neither to laugh nor
smile, now, without distinctly knowing why. We
are in the age of the philosophers. All this time,
however, Mr. Thomas Tucker is waiting to have
his style and titles proclaimed ; and thus do we find
them duly set forth :
"The most magnificent and renowned THOMAS,
by the favor of Fortune, Prince of Alba Fortunata,
Lord of St. John's, High Regent of the Hall, Duke
of St. Giles's, Marquis of Magdalen's, Landgrave of
the Grove, Count Palatine of the Cloysters, Chief
Bailiff of Beaumont, High Ruler of Rome, Master
of the Manor of Walton, Governor of Gloucester
Green, sole Commander of all Titles, Tournaments,
and Triumphs, Superintendent in all Solemnities
whatever. "
From these titles, as well as from those which
we have already mentioned as being assumed by
the courtiers of the illustrious Prince of Sophie, our
7
98 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
readers will perceive that alliteration was an es-
teemed figure in the rhetoric of the revels.
In order to give our readers a more lively idea of
this potentate, we have, as the frontispiece to our
second part, introduced a Lord of Misrule to pre-
side over the Christmas sports therein described.
Although the titles with which we have there in-
vested him are taken from the " Gesta Grayorum,"
the dress in which the artist has bestowed him is
not copied from any one of the particular descrip-
tions furnished by the different records. He is in-
tended to represent the ideal of a Christmas prince,
and not the portrait of any particular one of whom
we have accounts. The artist's instructions were
therefore confined to investing him with a due
magnificence (referring to the records only so far
as to keep the costume appropriate) and with a
complacent sense of his own finery and state, and
we think that Mr. Seymour has succeeded very
happily in catching and embodying the mock he-
roic of the character. The Prince of Purpoole, or
His Highness of Sophie, must have looked just
such a personage as he has represented.
We must not omit to observe that a correspond-
ing officer appears to have formerly exercised his
functions at some of the colleges at Cambridge,
under the more classical title of Imperator. And
we must further state that at Lincoln's- Inn, in the
early times of their Christmas celebrations, there
appear to have been elected (besides the Lord of
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON. 99
Misrule, and, we presume, in subordination to him)
certain dignitaries exercising a royal sway over the
revelries of particular days of the festival. In the ac-
count given by Dugdale of the Christmas held by this
society in the ninth year of the reign of Henry VIII.,
mention is made besides the Marshal and (as he
is there called) the Master of the Revels of a King
chosen for Christmas day, and an officer for Chil-
dermas day having the title of King of the Cock-
neys. A relic of this ancient custom exists in the
Twelfth Night King, whom it is still usual to elect
on the festival of the Epiphany, and of whom we
shall have occasion to speak at length in his proper
place.
The length of the period over which the sway of
this potentate extended does not seem to be very
accurately defined, or rather it is probable that
it varied with circumstances. Strictly speaking, the
Christmas season is in our day considered to ter-
minate with Twelfth Night, and the festival itself to
extend over that space of time of which this night
on one side and Christmas eve on the other are
the limits. In ancient times, too, we find frequent
mention of the twelve days of Christmas. Thus
the George Ferrers of whom we have spoken, is
appointed " to be in his hyness household for the
twelve days ; " and he dates one of his communica-
tions to Sir Thomas Cawarden, " From Greenwich
y e second of January and y e ix th day of o r rule."
In the extract from the Household- Book of the
IOO THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
Northumberland family which we have already
quoted, mention is also made of the " Playes, In-
terludes and Dresinge that is plaid befor his lordship
in his hous in the xijth dayes of Christenmas."
Stow, however, says that " these Lords beginning
their rule at Allhallond Eve, continued the same till
the morrow after the Feast of the Purification, com-
monly called Candlemas day ; " and that during all
that time there were under their direction " fine and
subtle disguisings, masks and mummeries, with play-
ing at cards for counters, nayles and points in every
house, more for pastimes than for gaine." This
would give a reign of upwards of three months to
these gentlemen. Dugdale, in describing the revels
of the Inner Temple speaks of the three principal
days being All-hallows, Candlemas, and Ascension
days, which would extend the period to seven
months ; and the masque of which we have spoken
as forming the final performance of the celebrated
Christmas of 1594, described in the " Gesta Gray-
orum," is stated to have been represented before
the queen at Shrovetide. At the Christmas ex-
hibition of St. John's college, Oxford, held in 1607,
Mr. Thomas Tucker did not resign his office till
Sh rove-Tuesday ; and the costly masque of which we
have spoken as being presented by the four Inns of
Court to Charles I., and whose title was " The
Triumph of Peace," was exhibited in February of
1633. In Scotland, the rule of the Abbot of Un-
reason appears to have been still less limited in
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON. IOI
point of time ; and he seems to have held his court
and made his processions at any period of the year
which pleased him. These processions, it appears,
were very usual in the month of May (and here
we will take occasion to observe parenthetically, but
in connection with our present subject, that the prac-
tice at all festival celebrations of selecting some
individual to enact a principal and presiding char-
acter in the ceremonial is further illustrated by the
ancient May King, and by the practice, not yet
wholly forgotten, of crowning on the first of that
month a Queen of the May. This subject we shall
have occasion to treat more fully when we come to
speak in some future volume of the beautiful cus-
toms of that out-of-doors season).
From what we have stated, it appears probable
that the officer who was appointed to preside over
the revels so universally observed at Christmas time,
extended, as a matter of course, his presidency over
all those which either arising out of them or un-
connected therewith were performed at more
advanced periods of the succeeding year ; that in
fact, the Christmas prince was, without new election,
considered as special master of the revels till the
recurrence of the season. It is not necessary for
us to suppose that the whole of the intervals lying
between such stated and remote days of celebra-
tion were filled up with festival observances ; or
that our ancestors, under any calenture of the spirits,
could aim at extending Christmas over the larger
102 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
portion of the year. It is, however, apparent that
although the common observances of the season
were supposed to fall within the period bounded
by the days of the Nativity and the Epiphany, the
special pageantries with a view to which the Lords of
Misrule were appointed in the more exalted quarters
were in years of high festival spread over a much
more extended time, and that their potential digni-
ties were in full force, if not in full display, from
the eve of All-hallows to the close of Candlemas
day. It is stated in Drake's " Shakspeare and his
Times," that the festivities of the season, which
were appointed for at least twelve days, were fre-
quently extended over a space of six weeks ; and
our readers know from their own experience that,
even in these our days of less prominent and cere-
monial rejoicing, the holiday-spirit of the season is
by no means to be restrained within the narrower
of those limits. The Christmas feeling waits not
for Christmas day. The important preparations for
so great a festival render this impossible. By the
avenues of most of the senses, the heralds of old
Father Christmas have long before approached to
awake it from its slumber. Signal notes which there
is no mistaking, have been played on the visual and
olfactory organs for some time past, and the palate
itself has had foretastes of that which is about to
be. From the day on which his sign has been seen
in the heavens, the joyous influences of the star
have been felt and the moment the school-boy ar-
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON. 103
rives at his home he is in the midst of Christmas.
And if the "coming events" of the season "cast
their shadows before," so, amid all its cross-lights it
would be strange if there were no reflections flung
behind. The merry spirit which has been awak-
ened and suffered to play his antics so long is not
to be laid by the exorcism of a word. After so
very absolute and unquestioned a sway, it is not to
be expected that Momus should abdicate at a mo-
ment's notice. Accordingly, we find that, any thing
enacted to the contrary notwithstanding, the genial
feelings of the time and the festivities springing out
of them contrive to maintain their footing through-
out the month of January ; and Christmas keeps
lingering about our homes till he is no longer an-
swered by the young glad voices to whom he has
not as yet begun to utter his solemn warnings and
expound his sterner morals, and for whom his
coming is hitherto connected with few memories of
pain. Till the merry urchins have gone back to
school there will continue to be willing subjects to
the Lord of Misrule.
In Scotland, the Abbot of Unreason was fre-
quently enacted by persons of the highest rank ;
and James V. is himself said to have concealed his
crown beneath the mitre of the merry abbot. As
in England, his revels were shared by the mightiest
of the land ; but they appear to have been of a less
inoffensive kind and to have imitated more un-
restrainedly the license of the Roman Saturnalia
IO4 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
than did the merry-makings of the South. The
mummeries of these personages (a faint reflection of
which still exists in the Guisars whom we shall have
to mention hereafter), if less costly than those of
their brethren in England, were not less showy ;
and though much less quaint, were a great deal
more free. "The body-guards of the Abbot of
Unreason were all arrayed in gaudy colors bedecked
with gold or silver lace, with embroidery and silken
scarfs, the fringed ends of which floated in the
wind. They wore chains of gold or baser metal
gilt and glittering with mock jewels. Their legs
were adorned and rendered voluble by links of
shining metal hung with many bells of the same
material twining from the ankle of their buskins to
their silken garters, and each flourished in his hand
a rich silk handkerchief brocaded over with flowers.
This was the garb of fifty or more youths, who en-
circled the person of the leader. They were sur-
rounded by ranks, six or more in depth, consisting of
tall, brawny, fierce-visaged men covered with crim-
son or purple velvet bonnets, and nodding plumes
of the eagle and the hawk, or branches of pine,
yew, oak, fern, boxwood, or flowering heath. Their
jerkins were always of a hue that might attract the
eye of ladies in the bower or serving- damsels at the
washing-green. They had breeches of immense
capacity so padded or stuffed as to make each man
occupy the space of five in their natural propor-
tions ; and in this seeming soft raiment they con-
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON. 105
cealed weapons of defence or offence, with which
to arm themselves and the body-guard if occasion
called for resistance. To appearance, they had no
object but careless sport and glee, some playing
on the Scottish harp, others blowing the bagpipes or
beating targets for drums, or jingling bells. When-
ever the procession halted they danced, flourishing
about the banners of their leader. The exterior
bands perhaps represented in dumb show or pan-
tomime the actions of warriors or the wildest buf-
foonery ; and these were followed by crowds who,
with all the grimaces and phrases of waggery,
solicited money or garniture from the nobles and
gentry that came to gaze upon them. Wherever
they appeared, multitudes joined them, some for
the sake of jollity, and not a few to have their fate
predicted by spae-wives, warlocks, and interpreters
of dreams, who invariably were found in the train
of the Abbot of Unreason."
In England, not only was this merry monarch
appointed over the revelries of the great and the
opulent, but as of most of the forms of amuse-
ment over which he presided, so of the president
himself we find a rude imitation in the Christ-
mas celebrations of the commonalty. Nor was
the practice confined to towns or left exclusively
in the hands of corporate or public bodies. The
quotation which we have already made from
Stubs's " Anatomic of Abuses," refers to a rustic
Lord of Misrule ; and while the antics which took
IO6 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
place under his governance do not seem to have
risen much above the performances of the morris-
dancers, the gaudiness of the tinsel attire paraded by
him and his band forms an excellent burlesque of
the more costly finery of their superiors. Nay, the
amusements themselves exhibit nearly as much wis-
dom as those of the court (with less of pretension),
and we dare say created a great deal more fun at
a far less cost. As to the Scottish practices, our
readers will not fail to observe from our last quo-
tation that the lordly Abbot and his train were little
better than a set of morris-dancers themselves, and
that so much of their practices as was innocent
differed nothing from those which Stubs and his
brother Puritans deemed so ridiculous in a set of
parish revellers. In fact, the Lord of Misrule seems
to have set himself up all over the land ; and many
a village had its master Simon who took care that
the sports should not languish for want of that
unity of purpose and concentration of mirth to
which some directing authority is so essential.
We have already stated, and have made it quite
apparent in our descriptions, that the Christmas
celebrations of the more exalted classes are not
put forward for the consideration of our readers
on the ground of any great wisdom in the matter
or humor in the manner of those celebrations
themselves. But we claim for them serious ven-
eration, in right of the excellence of the spirit in
which they originated, and the excellence of the
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON. 1 07
result which they produced. The very extrav-
agance of the court pageantries their profuse ex-
penditure and grotesque displays were so many
evidences of the hearty reception which was given
to the season in the highest places, and so many
conspicuous sanctions under which the spirit of
unrestrained rejoicing made its appeals in the lowest.
This ancient festival of all ranks, consecrated by
all religious feelings and all moral influences ; this
privileged season of the lowly; this Sabbath of
the poor man's year, was recognized by his su-
periors with high observance and honored by his
governors with ceremonious state. The mirth of
the humble and uneducated man received no check
from the assumption of an unseasonable gravity or
ungenerous reserve on the part of those with whom ,
fortune had dealt more kindly, and to whom knowl-
edge had opened her stores. The moral effect of
all this was of the most valuable kind. Nothing
so much promotes a reciprocal kindliness of feeling
as a community of enjoyment ; and the bond of
good will was thus drawn tighter between those
remote classes, whose differences of privilege, of
education, and of pursuit, are perpetually operating
to loosen it, and threatening to dissolve it alto-
gether. There was a great deal of wisdom in all
this ; and the result was well worth producing
even at the cost of much more folly than our
ancestors expended on it. We deny that spec-
tacles and a wig are the inseparable symbols of
108 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
sapience ; and we hold that portion of the world
to be greatly mistaken which supposes that wisdom
may not occasionally put on the cap. and bells, and
under that disguise be wisdom still ! The ancient
custom which made what was called a fool a part
of the establishment of princes, and gave him a
right in virtue of his bauble to teach many a wise
lesson and utter many a wholesome truth besides
its practical utility, contained as excellent a moral
and was conceived in as deep a spirit as the still
more ancient one of the skeleton at a feast. " Cu-
cullus non facit monachum" says one of those priv-
ileged gentry, in the pages of one who, we are
sure, could have enacted a Christmas foolery with
the most foolish, and yet had " sounded all the
depths and shallows " of the human mind, and was
himself the wisest of modern men. " Better a
witty fool than a foolish wit." There is a long
stride from the wisdom of that sneering philoso-
pher who laughed at his fellows to his who on
proper occasions can laugh with them ; and in
spite of all that modern philosophy may say to
the contrary, there was in the very extravagances
of Coke and Hatton, and other lawyers and states-
men of past times if they aimed at such a result
as that which we have mentioned, and in so far as
they contributed thereto more real wisdom than
all which they enunciated in their more solemn
moods, or have put upon record in their books of
the law.
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON. 109
In the same excellent spirit, too, everything was
done that could assist in promoting the same val-
uable effect ; and while the pageantries which were
prepared by the court and by other governing
bodies furnished a portion of the entertainments by
which the populace tasted the season in towns, and
sanctioned the rest, care was taken in many ways
(of which we have given an example) that the fes-
tival should be spread over the country, and pro-
vision made for its maintenance in places more
secluded and remote. A set of arrangements sprang
up which left no man without their influence ; and
figuratively and literally, the crumbs from the table
of the rich man's festival were abundantly enjoyed
by the veriest beggar at his gate. The kindly
spirit of Boaz was abroad in all the land, and every
Ruth had leave to " eat of the bread and dip her
morsel in the vinegar." At that great harvest of
rejoicing, all men were suffered to glean ; and they
with whom at most other seasons the world had
" dealt very bitterly " whose names were Mara,
and who ate sparingly of the bread of toil gleaned
" even among its sheaves," and no man reproached
them. The old English gentleman, like the gen-
erous Bethlehemite in the beautiful story, even
scattered that the poor might gather, and " com-
manded his young men saying, . . . ' Let fall also
some of the handfuls of purpose for them and leave
them, that they may glean them, and rebuke them
not.' " And the prayer of many a Naomi went up in
110 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
answer, " Blessed be he that did take knowledge of
thee ; " " blessed be he of the Lord ! "
In a word, the blaze of royal and .noble celebra-
tion was as a great beacon to the land, seen afar
off by those who could not share in its warmth
or sit under the influence of its immediate inspira-
tions. But it was answered from every hill-top
and repeated in every valley of England ; and each
man flung the Yule log on his own fire at the cheer-
ing signal. The hearth, according to Aubrey, at
the first introduction of coals, was usually in the
middle of the room ; and he derives from thence
the origin of the saying, " round about our coal
fire." But whether the huge fagot crackled and
flustered within those merry circles or flared and
roared up the ample chimneys, all social feelings,
and all beautiful superstitions and old traditions
and local observances awoke at the blaze ; and from
their thousand hiding-places crept out the customs
and ceremonials which crowd this festal period of
the year, and of which it is high time that we should
proceed to give an account in these pages. The
charmed log that (duly lighted with the last year's
brand, which, as we learn from Herrick, was essen-
tial to its virtue) scared away all evil spirits, at-
tracted all beneficent ones. The 'squire sat in the
midst of his tenants as a patriarch might amid his
family, and appears to have had no less reverence,
though he compounded the wassail-bowl with his
own hands and shared it with the meanest of his
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON. Ill
dependants. The little book from which we have
more than once quoted by the title of " Round
about our Coal-fire," furnishes us with an example
of this reverence too ludicrous to be omitted. Its
writer tells us that if the 'squire had occasion to ask
one of his neighbors what o'clock it was, he re-
ceived for answer a profound bow and an assur-
ance that it was what o'clock his worship pleased,
an answer, no doubt, indicative of profound respect,
but not calculated to convey much useful informa-
tion to the inquirer. In fine, however, while the
glad spirit of the season covered the land, hospi-
tality and harmony were everywhere a portion of
that spirit. The light of a common festival shone
for once upon the palace and the cottage, and the
chain of a universal sympathy descended unbroken
through all ranks, from the prince to the peasant
and the beggar.
" The damsel donned her kirtle sheen ;
The hall was dress'd with holly green ;
Forth to the wood did merry men go,
To gather in the misletoe.
Then opened wide the baron's hall,
To vassal!, tenant, serf and all ;
Power laid his rod of rule aside,
And ceremony doffed his pride.
The heir, with roses in his shoes,
Those nights might village partner chuse ;
The lord, underogating, share
The vulgar game of ' post-and-pair.'
The fire with well-dried logs supplied,
Went roaring up the chimney wide ;
112 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
The huge hall-table's oaken face,
Scrubbed till it shone, the time to grace,
Bore then upon its massive board
No mark to part the 'squire and lo"rd.
Then was brought in the lusty brawn,
By old blue-coated serving-man;
Then the grim boar's head frowned on high,
Crested with bays and rosemary.
Well can the green-garbed ranger tell,
How, when, and where, the monster fell ;
What dogs, before his death, he tore,
And all the batings of the boar.
The wassail round, in good brown bowls,
Garnished with ribbons, blithely trowls.
There the huge sirloin reeked ; hard by
Plumb-porridge stood, and Christmas pye ;
Nor failed old Scotland to produce,
At such high-tide, her savoury goose.
Then came the merry masquers in,
And carols roared with blithesome din;
If unmelodious was the song,
It was a hearty note, and strong.
Who lists may, in their mumming, see
Traces of ancient mystery ;
White shirts supplied the masquerade,
And smutted cheeks the visors made :
But, Oh ! what masquers, richly dight,
Can boast of bosoms half so light ?
England was merry England, when
Old Christmas brought his sports again.
'T was Christmas broached the mightiest ale,
'T was Christmas told the merriest tale,
A Christmas gambol oft would cheer
The poor man's heart through half the year."
The ceremonies and superstitions and sports of
the Christmas season are not only various in various
places, but have varied from time to time in the
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON. 113
same. Those of them which have their root in the
festival itself are for the most part common to all,
and have dragged out a lingering existence even to
our times. But there are many which, springing
from other sources, have placed themselves under
its protection or, naturally enough, sought to asso-
ciate themselves with merry spirits like their own.
Old Father Christmas has had a great many children
in his time, some of whom he has survived ; and
not only so, but in addition to his own lawful off-
spring the generous old man has taken under his
patronage and adopted into his family many who
have no legitimate claim to that distinction by any
of the wives to whom he has been united, neither
by the Roman lady, his lady of the Celtic family,
nor her whom he took to his bosom and con-
verted from the idolatry of Thor. His family
appears to have been generally far too numerous
to be entertained at one time in the same establish-
ment, or indeed by the same community, and to
have rarely travelled therefore in a body.
In Ben Jonson's Masque of Christmas, to which
we have already alluded, the old gentleman is
introduced " attired in round hose, long stockings,
a close doublet, a high-crowned hat with a broach,
a long thin beard, a truncheon, little ruffs, white
shoes, his scarfs and garters tied cross, and his
drum beaten before him," and is accompanied by
the following members of his fine family : MISS-
RULE, CAROLL, MINCED-PIE, GAMBOLL, POST-AND-
114 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
PAIR (since dead), NEW YEAR'S GIFT, MUMMING,
WASSAIL, OFFERING, and BABY-CAKE, or BABY-
COCKE, as we find him elsewhere called, but who
we fear is dead too, unless he may have changed
his name, for we still find one of the family bearing
some resemblance to the description of him given
by Ben Jonson.
In the frontispiece to this volume the artist has
represented the old man like another magician,
summoning his spirits from the four winds for a
general muster ; and we hope that the greater part
of them will obey his conjuration. The purpose,
we believe, is to take a review of their condition
and see if something cannot be done to amend their
prospects, in which it is our purpose to assist him.
Already some of the children have appeared on the
stage ; and the rest, we have no doubt, are advan-
cing in all directions. We are glad to see amongst
the foremost, as he ought to be, ROAST BEEF, that
English " champion bold " who has driven the
invader hunger from the land in many a well-
fought fray, and for his doughty deeds was created
a knight banneret on one of his own gallant fields
so long ago as King Charles's time. We sup-
pose he is the same worthy who, in the Romish
calendar, appears canonized by the title of Saint
George, where his great adversary Famine is
represented under the figure of a dragon. Still
following ROAST BEEF, as he has done for many a
long year, we perceive his faithful 'squire (bottle-
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON. 115
holder if you will) PLUM PUDDING, with his rich
round face and rosemary cockade. He is a blacka-
moor, and derives his extraction from the spice
lands. His Oriental properties have however re-
ceived an English education and taken an English
form, and he has long ago been adopted into the
family of Father Christmas. In his younger days
his name was " PLUMB- PORRIDGE " : but since he
grew up to be the substantial man he is, it has been
changed into the one he now bears, as indicative
of greater consistency and strength. His master
treats him like a brother ; and he has, in return,
done good service against the enemy in many a
hard-fought field, cutting off all straggling detach-
ments or flying parties from the main body, which
the great champion had previously routed. Both
these individuals, we think, are looking as vigorous
as they can ever have done in their lives, and offer
in their well-maintained and portly personages a
strong presumption that they at least have at no
time ceased to be favorite guests at the festivals of
the land.
Near them stands, we rejoice to see, their favorite
sister Wassail. She was of a slender figure in Ben
Jonson's day, and is so still. If the garb in which
she appears has a somewhat antiquated appearance,
there is a play of the lip and a twinkle of the eye
which prove that the glowing and joyous spirit
which made our ancestors so merry " ages long
ago," and helped them out with so many a pleasant
Il6 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
fancy and quaint device, is not a day older than it
was in the time of King Arthur. How should she
grow old who bathes in such a bowl? It is her
fount of perpetual youth ! Why, even mortal hearts
grow younger, and mortal spirits lighter, as they
taste of its charmed waters. There it is, with its
floating apples and hovering inspirations ! We see
too, that the " tricksy spirit," whose head bears it
(and that is more than every head could do) has
lost none of his gambols, and that he is still on the
best of terms with the Turkey who has been his
playfellow at these holiday-times for so many years.
The latter, we suppose, has just come up from Nor-
folk, where Father Christmas puts him to school ;
and the meeting on both sides seems to be of the
most satisfactory kind.
MUMMING also, we see, has obeyed the summons,
although he looks as if he had come from a long
distance and did not go about much now. We
fancy he has become something of a student. Mis-
rule too, we believe, has lost a good deal of his
mercurial spirit, and finds his principal resource in
old books. He has come to the muster, however,
with a very long " feather in his cap," as if he con-
sidered the present summons portentous of good
fortune. He looks as if he were not altogether
without hopes of taking office again. We observe
with great satisfaction, that the Lord of Twelfth
Night has survived the revolutions which have been
fatal to the King of the Cockneys and so many of
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON. 117
his royal brethren ; and that he is still " every inch
a king." Yonder he comes under a state-canopy of
cake, and wearing yet his ancient crown. The lady
whom we see advancing in the distance we take
to be Saint Distaff. She used to be a sad romp ;
but her merriest days we fear are over, for she is
looking very like an old maid. Not far behind her
we fancy we can hear the clear voice of Caroll sing-
ing as he comes along; and if our ears do not
deceive us, the Waits are coming up in another
direction. The children are dropping in on all
sides.
But what is he that looks down from yonder
pedestal in the back-ground upon the merry mus-
ter, with a double face ? And why, while the holly
and the mistletoe mingle with the white tresses that
hang over the brow of the one, is the other hidden
by a veil ? The face on which we gaze is the face
of an old man, and a not uncheerful old man, a
face marked by many a scar, by the channels of
tears that have been dried up and the deep traces
of sorrows past away. Yet does it look placidly
down from beneath its crown of evergreens on the
joyous crew who are assembled at the voice of
Christmas. But what aspect hath that other face
which no man can see ? Why doth our flesh creep
and the blood curdle in our veins as we gaze?
What awful mystery doth that dark curtain hide?
What may be written on that covered brow, that
the old man dare not lift the veil and show it to
Il8 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
those laughing children ? Much, much, much that
might spoil the revels. Much that man might not
know and yet bear to abide. That twin face is Janus,
he who shuts the gates upon the old year and opens
those of the new, he who looks into the past and
into the future, and catches the reflections of both,
and has the tales of each written on his respective
brows. For the past, it is known and has been
suffered; and even at a season like this we can
pause to retrace the story of its joys and of its sor-
rows as they are graven on that open forehead, and
from that retrospect, glancing to the future for hope,
can still turn to the present for enjoyment. But
oh, that veil and its solemn enigmas ! On that other
brow may be written some secret which, putting out
the light of hope, should add the darkness of the
future to the darkness of the past, until, amid the
gloom before and the gloom behind, the festal
lamps of the season, looked on by eyes dim with
our own tears, should show as sad as tapers lighted
up in the chamber of the dead. God in mercy
keep down that veil !
" Such foresight who on earth would crave,
Where knowledge is not power to save ? "
It will be our business to introduce to our readers
each of the children of old Christmas as they come
up in obedience to the summons of their father,
reserving to ourselves the right of settling the order
of their precedence ; and we will endeavor to give
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON. 1 19
some account of the part which each played of old
in the revelries of the season peculiarly their own,
and of the sad changes which time has made in the
natural constitutions, or animal spirits, of some of
them. Preparatory, however, to this we must en-
deavor to give a rapid glance at the causes which
contributed to the decay of a festival so ancient and
universal and uproarious as that which we have de-
scribed, and brought into the old man's family that
disease to which some of them have already fallen
victims, and which threatens others with an untimely
extinction.
We have already shown that so early as the reign
of Elizabeth the Puritans had begun to lift up their
testimony against the pageantries of the Christmas-
tide ; and the Lord of Misrule, even in that day of
his potential ascendancy, was described as little
better than the great Enemy of Souls himself. Our
friend Stubs (whose denunciations were directed
against all amusements which from long usage and
established repetition had assumed anything like a
form of ceremonial, and who is quite as angry with
those who " goe some to the woodes and groves
and some to the hilles and mountaines .... where
they spende all the night in pastymes, and in the
mornyng they return bringing with them birch
bowes and braunches of trees to deck their assem-
blies withall," in the sweet month of May, as he
could possibly be with the Christmas revellers, al-
though the very language in which he is obliged to
120 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
state the charge against the former was enough to
tempt people out " a Maying," and might almost
have converted himself) assures the reader of his
" Anatomic " that all who contribute " to the main-
tenaunce of these execrable pasty mes " do neither
more nor less than " offer sacrifice to the devill and
Sathanas." It is probable, however, that the people
of those days, who were a right loyal people and
freely acknowledged the claim of their sovereigns to
an absolute disposition of all their temporalities
(any of the common or statute laws of the land
notwithstanding), considered it a part of their loy-
alty to be damned in company with their sover-
eigns, too, and resolved that so long as these in-
iquities obtained the royal patronage it was of their
allegiance to place themselves in the same category
of responsibility. Or perhaps their notion of regal
prerogative, which extended so far as to admit its
right to mould the national law at its good pleasure,
might go the further length of ascribing to it a con-
trolling power over the moral statutes of right and
wrong, and of pleading its sanction against the men-
aces of Master Stubs. Or it may be that Master
Stubs had failed to convince them that they were
wrong, even without an appeal to the royal dispensa-
tion. Certain it is that, in spite of all that Master
Stubs and his brethren could say, the sway of the
Lord of Misrule, and the revels of his court continued
to flourish with increasing splendor during this reign,
and, as we have seen, lost no portion of their mag-
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON. 121
nificence during the two next, although in that time
had arisen the great champion of the Puritans,
Prynne, and against them and their practices had
been directed whole volumes of vituperation, and
denounced large vials of wrath.
In Scotland, however, where the reformation took
a sterner tone than in the southern kingdom, and
where, as we have said, the irregularities committed
under cover of the Christmas and other ceremo-
nials laid them more justly open to its censure, the
effect of this outcry was earlier and far more sen-
sibly felt ; and even so early as the reign of Queen
Mary an act passed the Scottish Parliament whereby
the Abbot of Unreason and all his " merrie dis-
ports " were suppressed.
In England, it is true that, according to Sandys,
an order of the common council had issued as
early as the beginning of our Mary's reign prohibit-
ing the Lord Mayor or Sheriffs from entertaining a
Lord of Misrule in any of their houses ; but this
appears to have been merely on financial grounds,
with a view of reducing the corporation expendi-
ture, and to have extended no further.
It was not, however, until after the breaking out
of the Civil War that the persecution of the Puritans
(who had long and zealously labored not only to
resolve the various ceremonials of the season into
their pagan elements, but even to prove that the cel-
ebration of the Nativity at all was in itself idol-
atrous) succeeded to any extent in producing that
122 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
result which the war itself and the consequent dis-
organization of society must in a great measure
have effected even without the aid of a fanatical
outcry. In the very first year of that armed strug-
gle the earliest successful blow was struck against
the festivities with which it had been usual to cel-
ebrate this period of the year, in certain ordinances
which were issued for suppressing the performance
of plays and other diversions ; and in the follow-
ing year some of the shops in London were for the
first time opened on Christmas day, in obedience to
the feelings which connected any observance of it
with the spirit of popery. By the year 1647 the
Puritans had so far prevailed that in various places
the parish officers were subjected to penalties for
encouraging the decking of churches and permitting
divine service to be performed therein on Christmas
morning ; and in the same year the observance
of the festival itself, with that of other holidays,
was formally abolished by the two branches of the
legislature.
It was found, impossible however, by all these
united means, to eradicate the Christmas spirit from
the land ; and many of its customs and festivities
continued to be observed, not only in obscure
places, but even in towns, in spite of prohibition
and in spite of the disarrangement of social ties.
The contest between the Puritan spirit and the
ancient spirit of celebration led to many contests ;
and we have an account in a little book of which
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON. 123
we have seen a copy in the British Museum, en-
titled "Canterbury Christmas, or a True Relation
of the Insurrection in Canterbury " of the disturb-
ances which ensued in that city upon the Mayor's
proclamation, issued in consequence of that Par-
liamentary prohibition at the Christmas which fol-
lowed. This said proclamation, it appears, which
was made by the city crier, was to the effect " that
Christmas day and all other superstitious festivals
should be put dovvne and that a market should be
kept upon Christmas day." This order, it goes on
to state, was " very ill taken by the country," the
people of which neglected to bring their provisions
into the town, and gave other tokens of their dis-
pleasure of a less negative kind. For, a few of the
shopkeepers in the city, " to the number of twelve
at the most," having ventured to open their shops
in defiance of the general feeling, " they were com-
manded by the multitude to shut up again ; but re-
fusing to obey, their ware was thrown up and down
and they at last forced to shut in."
Nor were the revilings of the Puritans against the
lovers of Christmas observances suffered to remain
unanswered. Many a squib was directed against
the Roundheads ; and the popular regret for the
suppression of their high festival was skilfully ap-
pealed to by Royalist politicians and favorers of the
ancient religion. The connection between the new
condition of things in Church and State and the ex-
tinction of all the merriment of the land was carefully
124 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
suggested in publications that stole out in spite of
penalties and were read in defiance of prohibitions.
As an example, that curious little tract from which
we have more than once quoted under the title of
" An Hue and Cry after Christmas," bears the date
of 1645 ; and we shall best give our readers an idea
of its character by setting out that title at length,
as the same exhibits a tolerable abstract of its con-
tents. It runs thus : " The arraingment, convic-
tion, and imprisoning of Christmas on St. Thomas
day last, and how he broke out of prison in the
holidayes and got away, onely left his hoary hair
and gray beard sticking between two iron bars of a
window. With an Hue and Cry after Christmas, and
a letter from Mr. Woodcock, a fellow in Oxford,
to a malignant lady in London. And divers pas-
sages between the lady and the cryer about Old
Christmas ; and what shift he was fain to make to
save his life, and great stir to fetch him back again.
Printed by Simon Minc'd Pye for Cissely Plum-
Porridge, and are to be sold by Ralph Fidler
Chandler at the signe of the Pack of Cards in Mus-
tard Alley in Brawn Street." Besides the allusions
contained in the latter part of this title to some of
the good things that follow in the old man's train,
great pains are taken by the " cryer " in describing
him, and by the lady in mourning for him, to allude
to many of the cheerful attributes that made him
dear to the people. His great antiquity and portly
appearance are likewise insisted upon. " For age
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON. 125
this hoarie-headed man was of great yeares, and as
white as snow. He entered the Romish Kallendar,
time out of mind, as o'd or very neer as Father
Mathusalem was, one that looked fresh in the
Bishops' time, though their fall made him pine away
ever since. He was full and fat as any divine doctor
on them all ; he looked under the consecrated lawne
sleeves as big as Bul-beefe, just like Bacchus up-
on a tunne of wine, when the grapes hang shaking
about his eares ; but since the Catholike liquor is
taken from him he is much wasted, so that he hath
looked very thin and ill of late." "The poor,"
says the "cryer" to the lady, '''are sory for" his
departure ; " for they go to every door a-begging,
as they were wont to do (good Mrs., Somewhat
against this good time} ; but Time was transformed,
Away, be gone; here is not for you." The lady,
however, declares that she for one will not be de-
terred from welcoming old Christmas. " No, no ! "
says she ; " bid him come by night over the Thames,
and we will have a back-door open to let him in ; "
and ends by anticipating better prospects for him
another year.
And by many a back-door was the old man let in
to many a fireside during the heaviest times of all
that persecution and disgrace. On the establish-
ment of the Commonwealth, when the more settled
state of things removed some of the causes which
had opposed themselves to his due reception, the
contests of opposition between the revived spirit of
126 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
festival and the increased sectarian austerity became
more conspicuous. There is an order of the Par-
liament in 1652 again prohibiting the observance of
Christmas day, which proves that the practice had
revived ; and there are examples of the military
having been employed to disperse congregations
assembled for that purpose. In the " Vindication
of Christmas," published about this time, the old
gentleman, after complaining bitterly of the manner
in which he was " used in the city, and wandering
into the country up and down from house to house,
found small comfort in any," asserts his determi-
nation not to be so repulsed : " Welcome or not
welcome," says he, " I am come." In a periodical
publication of that day entitled " Mercurius Democ-
ritus, or a True and Perfect Nocturnall, communi-
cating many strange wonders out of the World in
the Moon, etc.," the public are encouraged to keep
Christmas, and promised better days. No. 37 con-
tains some verses to that effect, of which the follow-
ing are the first two :
" Old Christmass now is come to town,
Though few do him regard ;
He laughs to see them going down,
That have put down his Lord.
" Cheer up, sad heart, crown Christmass bowls,
Banish dull grief and sorrow ;
Though you want cloaths, you have rich souls,
The sun may shine to-morrow."
And again in No. 38 :
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON. 127
" A gallant crew, stir up the fire,
The other winter tale,
Welcome, Christmass, 'tis our desire
To give thee more spic'd ale."
On the return of the royal family to England, the
court celebrations of Christmas were revived both
there and at the Inns of Court ; and the Lord of
Misrule came again into office. We have allusions
to the one and the other in the writings of Pepys
and of Evelyn. The nobles and wealthy gentry,
too, once more at their country-seats, took under
their protection such of the ancient observances as
had survived the persecution, and from time to time
stole out of their hiding-places under the encour-
agement of the new order of things. But in none
of its ancient haunts did the festival ever again
recover its splendor of old. The condition of
Charles's exchequer, and the many charges upon it,
arising as well out of the services of his adhe-
rents as from his own dissolute life, left him little
chance of imitating the lavish appointments of the
court pageantries in the days of Elizabeth and
James ; and the troubles out of which the nation
had emerged had made changes as well in the face
of the country as in the condition and character of
society, alike opposed to anything like a general
and complete revival of the merry doings of yore.
In the country, estates had passed into new hands,
and the immemorial ties between the ancient
families and the tenants of the soil had been rudely
128 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
severed. Many of the old establishments in which
these celebrations had been most zealously ob-
served, were finally broken up ; and friends who
had met together from childhood around the
Christmas fire, and pledged each other year by year
in the wassail-bowl, were scattered by the chances
of war. But out of this disturbance of the old
localities and disruption of the ancient ties of the
land, a result still more fatal to these old observ-
ances had arisen, promoted besides by the dissipa-
tion of manners which the restored monarch had
introduced into the country. Men rooted out
from their ancestral possessions and looking to a
licentious king for compensation, became hangers-
on about the court ; and others who had no such
excuse, seduced by their example and enamoured of
the gayeties of the metropolis and the profligacies
of Whitehall, abandoned the shelter of the old trees
beneath whose shade their fathers had fostered the
sanctities of life, and from " country gentlemen "
became "men about town." The evils of this
practice, at which we have before hinted as one of
those to which the decay of rural customs is mainly
owing, began to be early felt, and form the topic of
frequent complaint and the subject of many of the
popular ballads of that day. The song of the " Old
and Young Courtier " was written for the purpose
of contrasting the good old manners with those of
Charles's time ; and the effects of the change upon
the Christmas hospitalities has due and particular
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON. 129
notice therein. We extract it from the Percy col-
lection for our readers, as appropriate to our sub-
ject and a sample of the ballads of the time :
THE OLD AND YOUNG COURTIER.
An old song made by an aged old pate,
Of an old worshipful gentleman who had a greate estate,
That kept a brave old house at a bountifull rate,
And an old porter to relieve the poor at his gate ;
Like an old courtier of the Queen's,
And the Queen's old courtier.
With an old lady, whose anger one word assuages ;
They every quarter paid their old servants their wages,
And never knew what belong'd to coachmen, footmen, nor
pages,
But kept twenty old fellows with blue coats and badges ;
Like an old courtier, etc.
With an old study fiU'cl full of learned old books,
With an old reverend chaplain, you might know him by
his looks,
With an old buttery hatch worn quite off the hooks,
And an old kitchen, that maintained half-a-dozen old cooks ;
Like an old courtier, etc.
With an old hall, hung about with pikes, guns, and bows,
With old swords, and bucklers that had borne many
shrewde blows,
And an old frize coat, to cover his worship's trunk hose,
And a cup of old sherry to comfort his copper nose ;
Like an old courtier, etc.
With a good old fashion, when Christmasse was come,
To call in all his old neighbours with bagpipe and drum,
9
130 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
With good chear enough to furnish every old room,
And old liquor able to make a cat speak, and man dumb ;
Like an old courtier, etc.
With an old falconer, huntsman, and a kennel of hounds,
That never hawked, nor hunted, but in his own grounds,
Who, like a wise man, kept himself within his own bounds,
And when he dyed gave every child a thousand good
pounds ;
Like an old courtier, etc.
But to his eldest son his house and land he assign'd,
Charging him in his will to keep the old bountifull mind,
To be good to his old tenants, and to his neighbours be
kind ;
But in the ensuing ditty you shall hear how he was inclined ;
Like a young courtier, etc.
Like a flourishing young gallant, newly come to his land,
Who keeps a brace of painted madams at his command,
And takes up a thousand pound upon his father's land,
And gets drunk in a tavern, till he can neither go nor
stand :
Like a young courtier, etc.
With a new-fangled lady, that is dandy, nice, and spare,
Who never knew what belong'd to good housekeeping or
care,
Who buys gaudy-color'd fans to play with wanton air,
And seven or eight different dressings of other women's
hair ;
Like a young courtier, etc.
With a new-fashion'd hall, built where the old one stood,
Hung round with new pictures, that do the poor no good,
With a fine marble chimney, wherein burns neither coal
nor wood,
And a new smooth shovelboard, whereon no victuals ne'er
stood ;
Like a young courtier, etc.
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON. 13!
With a new study, stuff d full of pamphlets and plays,
And a new chaplain, that swears faster than he prays,
With a new buttery-hatch that opens once in four or five
days,
And a new French cook, to devise fine kickshaws and toys;
Like a young courtier, etc.
With a new fashion, when Christmasse is drawing on,
On a new journey to London straight we all must begone,
And leave none to keep house, but our new porter John,
Who relieves the poor with a thump on the back with a
stone ;
Like a young courtier, etc.
With a new gentleman usher, whose carriage is compleat,
With a new coachman, footmen, and pages to carry up the
meat,
With a waiting-gentlewoman, whose dressing is very neat,
Who when her lady has din'd, lets the servants not eat ;
Like a young courtier, etc.
With new titles of honour bought with his father's old gold,
For which sundry of his ancestors' old manors are sold ;
And this is the course most of our new gallants hold,
Which makes that good housekeeping is now grown so
cold,
Among the young courtiers of the King,
Or the King's young courtiers.
In a word, the old English feeling seemed nearly
extinct for a time ; and the ancient customs which
had connected themselves therewith, one by one
fell more or less into disuse. The chain of universal
sympathy and general observance, which had long
kept the festival together in all its parts, was broken ;
and the parts fell asunder, and were by degrees
132 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
lost or overlooked. Let no man say that this is
scarcely worth lamenting ! Let none imagine that,
in the decay of customs useless or. insignificant in
themselves, there is little to regret ! " The affec-
tions," says Sterne, " when they are busy that way,
will build their structures, were it but on the paring
of a nail ; " and there is no practice of long ob-
servance and ancient veneration whether among
nations or individuals round which the affections
have not in some degree twined themselves, and
which are not therefore useful as supports and re-
membrancers to those affections. There are few of
the consequences springing from civil war more
lamentable than the disturbance which it gives to
the social arrangements, were it but to the meanest
of them. It is impossible that customs long iden-
tified with the feelings should perish without those
feelings (though from their own eternal principle
they will ultimately revive and find new modes of
action) suffering some temporary injury. It was a
beautiful assertion of Dr. Johnson that his feelings
would be outraged by seeing an old post rooted up
from before his door which he had been used to
look at all his life, even though it might be an
incumbrance there. How much more would he
have grieved over the removal of a village May-
pole, with all its merry memories and all its ancient
reverence !
The Christmas festival has languished from those
days to this, but never has been, and never will be
THE CHRISTMAS SEASON. 133
extinct. The stately forms of its celebration in
high places have long since (and, in all probability,
forever) passed away. The sole and homely rep-
resentative of the gorgeous Christmas prince is the
mock-monarch of the Epiphany, the laureate of
our times, with his nominal duties, in the last faint
shadow of the court bards and masque-makers of
yore ; and the few lingering remains of the impor-
tant duties once confided to the master of the royal
revels are silently and unostentatiously performed
in the office of the Lord Chamberlain of to-day.
But the spirit of the season yet survives, and, for
reasons which we shall proceed to point out, must
survive. True', the uproarious merriment, the
loud voice which it sent of old throughout the
land, have ceased ; and while the ancient sports
and ceremonies are widely scattered, many of them
have retreated into obscure places, and some per-
haps are lost. Still, however, this period of com-
memoration is everywhere a merry time ; and we
believe, as we have already said, that most of the
children of Father Christmas are yet wandering up
and down in one place or another of the land. We
call upon all those of our readers who know any-
thing of the " old, old, very old, gray-bearded gen-
tleman " or his family to aid us in our search after
them ; and with their good help we will endeavor
to restore them to some portion of their ancient
honors in England.
FEELINGS OF THE SEASON.
OF all the festivals which crowd the Christian cal-
endar there is none that exercises an influence
so strong and universal as that of Christmas ; and
those varied superstitions, and quaint customs, and
joyous observances, which once abounded through-
out the rural districts of England, are at no period
of the year so thickly congregated or so strongly
marked as at this season of unrestrained festivity
and extended celebration. The reasons for this are
various and very obvious. In the case of a single
celebration, which has to support itself by its own
solitary influence long, perchance, after the feeling
in which it originated has ceased to operate, whose
significance is perhaps dimly and more dimly per-
ceived (through the obscurity of a distance, year
after year receding further into shadow) by its
own unaided and unreflected light, the chances are
many that the annually increasing neglect into which
its observance is likely to fall, shall finally consign it
to an entire obliteration. But a cluster of festivals,
standing in a proximate order of succession, at once
throwing light upon each other and illustrated by
FAMILY CONGRATULATION. Page 134.
FEELINGS OF THE SEASON. 135
a varied and numerous host of customs, tradi-
tions, and ceremonies, of which, as in a similar
cluster of stars, the occasional obscuration of any
one or more would not prevent their memory being
suggested and their place distinctly indicated by
the others, present greatly multiplied probabilities
against their existence being ever entirely forgotten
or their observation wholly discontinued. The ar-
rangement by which a series of celebrations
beautiful in .themselves, and connected with the
paramount event in which are laid the foundations
of our religion are made to fall at a period other-
wise of very solemn import (from its being assumed
as the close of the larger of those revolutions of
time into which man measures out the span of his
transitory existence), and the chance which has
brought down to the same point and thrown to-
gether the traces of customs and superstitions both
of a sacred and secular character, uniting with
the crowd of Catholic observances, off-shoots from
the ancient Saturnalia, remains of old Druidical
rites, and glimpses into the mythology of the North-
ern nations, have written a series of hieroglyphics
upon that place of the calendar, which, if they can-
not be deciphered in every part, are still, from their
number and juxtaposition, never likely to be over-
looked.
But though these causes are offered as account-
ing for the preservation of many customs which,
without them, would long since have passed into
136 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
oblivion, which exist by virtue of the position they
occupy on the calendar, yet the more conspicu-
ous celebrations of this season need no such aid
and no such arguments. Nothing can be added
to their intrinsic interest, and they are too closely
connected with the solemn warnings of man's tem-
poral destiny, and linked with the story of his
eternal hopes, ever to lose any portion of that in-
fluence, a share of which (without thereby losing,
as light is communicated without diminution) they
throw over all the other celebrations that take
shelter under their wing.
In every way, and by many a tributary stream,
are the holy and beneficent sentiments which be-
long to the period increased and refreshed. Beau-
tiful feelings, too apt to fade within the heart of
man amid the chilling influences of worldly pursuit,
steal out beneath the sweet religious warmth of the
season, and the pure and holy amongst the hopes
of earth assemble, to place themselves under the
protection of that eternal hope whose promise is
now, as it were, yearly renewed. Amid the echoes
of that song which proclaimed peace on earth and
good-will towards men, making no exclusions, and
dividing them into no classes, rises up a dormant
sense of universal brotherhood in the heart ; and
something like a distribution of the good things of
the earth is suggested in favor of those, destitute
here, who are proclaimed as joint participators in
the treasure thus announced from heaven. At no
FEELINGS OF THE SEASON. 137
other period of the year are the feeling of a uni-
versal benevolence and the sense of a common
Adam so widely awakened ; at no season is the
predominant spirit of selfishness so effectually re-
buked ; never are the circles of love so largely
widened.
The very presence of a lengthened festivity for
festivity can never be solitary would, apart from
its sacred causes, promote these wholesome effects.
The extended space of time over which this festival
is spread, the protracted holiday which it creates,
points it out for the gathering together of distant
friends whom the passing nature of an occasional
and single celebration would fail to collect from
their scattered places of the world. By this wise
and beautiful arrangement the spell of home is still
made to cast its sweet and holy influence along the
sterile regions as along the bright places of after-
life, and from the dark valleys and the sunny hill-
tops of the world to call back alike the spoiled of
fortune and the tired and travel-stained to re-
fresh themselves again and again at the fountain of
their calmer hopes and purer feelings. A wise and
beautiful arrangement this would be, in whatever
season of the year it might be placed ! Wise and
beautiful is any institution which sets up a rallying-
place for the early affections and re-awakens the
sacred sympathies of youth, which, from that well-
head of purity and peace, sends forth, as it were, a
little river of living waters, to flow with revivifying
138 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
freshness and soothing murmur along the wastes
and wildernesses of after years ; which makes of
that spring-time of the heart a reservoir of balm, to
which in hours of sorrow it can return for joy, and
in years of guilt for regeneration ; and which, like
the widow's cruse of oil, wasteth not in all the ages
of the mind's dearth. But how greatly are the
wisdom and the beauty of this arrangement in-
creased by the sacred season at which it has been
placed ! Under the sanctions of religion the cove-
nants of the heart are renewed. Upon the altars
of our faith the lamps of the spirit are rekindled.
The loves of earth seem to have met together at
the sound of the "glad tidings " of the season, to
refresh themselves for the heaven which those tid-
ings proclaim. From " Abana and Pharpar " and
all the "rivers of Damascus " the affections are
returned to bathe in " the waters of Israel." In
many a peaceful spot and lowly home,
" Wi' joy unfeigned, brothers and sisters meet,
An' each for other's welfare kindly spiers ; "
and as the long-separated look once more into the
" sweet, familiar faces," and listen in that restored
companionship to strains such as " once did sweet
in Zion glide " (even as they listened long ago, and,
it may be, with some who are gone from them for
ever),
"Hope springs, 'exulting on triumphant wing '
That thus they all shall meet in future days,
FEELINGS OF THE SEASON. 139
There ever bask in uncreated rays,
No more to sigh or shed the bitter tear,
Together hymning their Creator's praise
In such society, yet still more dear,
While ceaseless time moves round in an eternal sphere."
To this tone of feeling the services of the Church
have for some time previously been gradually adapt-
ing the mind. During the whole period of Ad-
vent a course of moral and religious preparation
has been going on, and a state of expectation is
by degrees excited, not unlike that with which the
Jews were waiting for the Messiah, of old. There
is, as it were, a sort of watching for the great event,
a questioning where Christ shall be born, and an
earnest looking out for his star in the East that we
may " come to worship him." The feeling awak-
ened by the whole series of these services unlike
that suggested by some of those which commemo-
rate other portions of the same sacred story is
entirely a joyous one. The lowly manner of the
Saviour's coming, the exceeding humiliation of his
appointments, the dangers which beset his infancy,
and his instant rejection by those to whom he came,
are all forgotten in the fact of his coming itself, in
the feeling of a mighty triumph and the sense of a
great deliverance, or only so far remembered as to
temper the triumph and give a character of tender-
ness to the joy. " The services of the Church
about this season," says Washington Irving, " are
extremely tender and inspiring. They dwell on the
140 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
beautiful story of the origin of our faith, and the
pastoral scenes that accompanied its announce-
ment. They gradually increase -in fervor and
pathos during the season of Advent, until they
break forth in full jubilee on the morning that
brought 'peace and good-will to men.'" " I do not
know," he adds, " a grander effect of music on the
moral feelings than to hear the full choir and the
pealing organ performing a Christmas anthem in a
cathedral, and filling every part of the vast pile
with triumphant harmony." We confess that, for
ourselves, very sensible as we are to the grander
and more complicated effects of harmony, we have,
on the occasion in question, been more touched by
the simple song of rejoicing as it rang in its un-
aided sweetness through the aisles of some village
church. We have felt ourselves more emphatically
reminded, amid pastoral scenes and primitive choirs,
of the music of congratulation which was uttered
through the clear air to men " abiding in the field,
keeping watch over their flocks by night,"
" The hallowed anthem sent to hail
Bethlehem's shepherds in the lonely vale
When Jordan hushed his waves, and midnight still
Watched on the holy towers of Zion's hill."
Nor is the religious feeling which belongs to this
season suffered to subside with the great event
of the nativity itself. The incidents of striking
interest which immediately followed the birth of
the Messiah, the persecutions which were directed
FEELINGS OF THE SEASON. 14!
against his life, and the starry writing of God in the
sky, which, amid the rejection of " his own," drew
to him witnesses from afar, all contribute to keep
alive the sense of a sacred celebration to the end
of the period usually devoted to social festivity,
and send a wholesome current of religious feeling
through the entire season, to temper its extrava-
gancies and regulate its mirth. The worship of
the shepherds ; the lamentation in Rama, and the
weeping of Rachel for the murder of the inno-
cents ; the miraculous escape from that massacre
of the Saviour, and the flight of his parents into
Egypt with the rescued child ; and the manifesta-
tion of Christ to the Gentiles, which is indeed the
day of his nativity to tis, are all commemorated
in the Christian Church, and illustrated by the series
of services distributed through that period of re-
ligious worship which bears the general title of
Christmas.
There is, too, in the lengthened duration of this
festival a direct cause of that joyous and holiday
spirit which, for the most part (after the first tender-
ness of meeting has passed away, and a few tears
perhaps been given, as the muster-roll is perused, to
those who answer to their names no more), per-
vades all whom that same duration has tempted
to assemble.
Regrets there will no doubt, in most cases,
be, for these distant and periodical gatherings to-
gether of families but show more prominently the
142 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
blanks which the long intervals have created ;
this putting on anew, as it were, of the garment of
love but exposes the rents which time has made
since it was last worn ; this renewing of the chain
of our attachments but displays the links that are
broken ! The Sybil has come round again, as
year by year she comes, with her books of the
affections ; but new leaves have been torn away.
" No man," says Shakspeare, " ever bathed twice
in the same river ; " and the home-Jordan to
which the observers of the Christmas festival come
yearly back to wash away the leprous spots con-
tracted in the world never presents to them again
the identical waters in which last they sported,
though it be Jordan still. Amid these jubilant har-
monies of the heart there will be parts unfilled
up, voices wanting. "This young gentlewoman,"
says the Countess of Rousillon to Lafeu, "had a
father (oh that had! how sad a passage 'tis!)."
And surely with such changes as are implied in
that past tense some of the notes of life's early
music are silenced forever. "Would they were
with us still ! " says the old ballad ; and in the first
hour of these reunions many and many a time is
the wish echoed in something like the words !
And if these celebrations have been too long dis-
used, and the wanderer comes rarely back to the
birthplace of the affections, the feeling of sadness
may be too strong for the joyous influences of the
season,
FEELINGS OF THE SEASON. 143
" A change " he may find " there, and many a change I
Faces and footsteps and all things strange !
Gone are the heads of the silvery hair,
And the young that were, have a brow of care,
And the place is hushed where the children played!"
till, amid the bitter contrasts of the past with the
present, and thoughts of "the loved, the lost, the
distant, and the dead," something like
"A pall,
And a gloom o'ershadowing the banquet-hall,
And a mark on the floor as of life-drops spilt,"
may spoil his ear for the voice of mirth, and darken
all the revels of the merry Christmas-tide.
To few assemblages of men is it given to come
together in the scene of ancient memories without
having to " remember such things were that were
most precious." But excepting in those cases in
which the suffering is extreme or the sorrow im-
mediate, after a few hours given to a wholesome
and perhaps mournful retrospect, the mind re-
adjusts itself to the tone of the time, and men for
the most part seem to understand that they are
met for the purpose of being as merry as it is in
their natures to be. And to the attainment of this
right joyous frame of mind we have already said
that a sense of the duration of the festival period
greatly contributes. In the case of a single holi-
day the mind has scarcely time to take the ap-
propriate tone before the period of celebration has
144 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
passed away ; and a sense of its transiloriness tends
often to prevent the effort being made with that
heartiness which helps to insure success.
But when the holiday of to-day terminates only
that it may make way for the holiday of to-morrow,
and gladness has an ancient charter in virtue of
which it claims dominion over a series of days so
extended that the happy school-boy (and some
who are quite as happy as school-boys, and as
merry too) cannot see the end of them for the
blaze of joyous things that lies between, then
does the heart surrender itself confidently to the
genius of the time, and lets loose a host of cheer-
ful and kindly feelings, which it knows will not be
suddenly thrown back upon it, and heaps up
pleasant devices upon the glowing flame of mirth,
as we heap up logs on the roaring fire, laying
them decently aside at the end of the season, as
we lay aside the burned-out brand of the Yule log
to re-kindle the Christmas fire and the Christmas
feeling of another year.
But there is yet another reason, in aid of those
which we have enumerated, accounting for an ob-
servance of the Christmas festivities more universal,
and a preservation of its traditions more accurate
and entire, than are bestowed in England upon the
festival customs of any other period of the year.
This reason, which might not at first view seem so
favorable to that end as in truth it is, is to be
found in the outward and natural aspects of the
FEELINGS OF THE SEASON. 145
season. We have been watching the year through
the period of its decline, are arrived at the dreary
season of its old age, and stand near the edge of
its grave. We have seen the rich sunshines and
sweet but mournful twilights of autumn, with their
solemn inspirations, give place to the short days
and gloomy evenings which usher in the coming
solstice. One by one the fair faces of the flowers
have departed from us, and the sweet murmuring
of " shallow rivers, by whose falls melodious birds
sing madrigals," has been exchanged for the harsh
voice of the swollen torrent and the dreary music
of winds that "rave through- the naked tree."
Through many a chilling sign of "weary winter
comin' fast," we have reached the
"Last of the months, severest of them all.
For lo ! the fiery horses of the Sun
Through the twelve signs their rapid course have run;
Time, like a serpent, bites his forked tail,
And Winter, on a goat, bestrides the gale ;
Rough blows the North-wind near Arcturus' star,
And sweeps, unreined, across the polar bar."
The halcyon days, which sometimes extend their
southern influence even to our stern climate, and
carry an interval of gloomy calm into the heart of
this dreary month, have generally ere its close
given place to the nipping frosts and chilling blasts
of mid-winter. "Out of the South" hath come
" the whirlwind, and cold out of the North." The
days have dwindled to their smallest stature, and
146 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
the long nights, with their atmosphere of mist, shut
in and circumscribe the wanderings of man. Clouds
and shadows surround us. The air has lost its rich
echoes, and the earth its diversified aspects ; and
to the immediate threshold of the house of feasting
and merriment we have travelled through those
dreary days which are emphatically called " the
dark days before Christmas." Of one of the gloomy
mornings that usher in these melancholy days
Ben Jonson gives the following dismal descrip-
tion :
" It is, methinks, a morning full of fate !
It riseth slowly, as her sullen car
Had all the weights of sleep and death hung at it !
She is not rosy-fingered, but swoln black !
Her face is like a water turned to blood,
And her sick head is bound about with clouds,
As if she threatened night, ere noon of day !
It does not look as it would have a hail
Or health wished in it as of other morns ! "
And the general discomforts of the season are be-
moaned by old Sackville, with words that have a
wintry sound, in the following passage, which we
extract from " England's Parnassus : "
" The wrathfull winter, proching on a pace,
With blustring blast had all ybard the treene ;
And old Saturnus, with his frosty face,
With chilling cold had pearst the tender greene ;
The mantle rent wherein inwrapped beene
The gladsome groves that now lay over-throwne,
The tapers torne, and every tree downe blowne ;
FEELINGS OF THE SEASON. 147
The soyle, that erst so seemely was to seeme,
Was all dispoiled of her beauties hewe,
And stole fresh flowers (wherewith the Somer's queene
Had clad the earth), now Boreas blast downe blew ;
And small fowles flocking, in their songs did rew
The Winter's wrath, where with each thing defast,
In wofull wise bewayl'd the Sommer past :
Hawthorne had lost his motley liverie,
The naked twigs were shivering all for cold,
And, dropping down the teares aboundantlie,
Each thing, methought, with weeping eye me told
The cruell season, bidding me withhold
Myselfe within."
The feelings excited by this dreary period of
transition, and by the desolate aspect of external
things to which it has at length brought us,
would seem, at first view, to be little in harmony
with a season of festival, and peculiarly unpropitious
to the claims of merriment. And yet it is precisely
this joyless condition of the natural world which
drives us to take refuge in our moral resources,
at the same time that it furnishes us with the leisure
necessary for their successful development. The
spirit of cheerfulness which, for the blessing of man,
is implanted in his nature, deprived of the many
issues by which, at other seasons, it walks abroad
and breathes amid the sights and sounds of Nature,
is driven to its own devices for modes of mani-
festation, and takes up its station by the blazing
hearth. In rural districts, the varied occupations
which call the sons of labor abroad into the fields
are suspended by the austerities of the time ; and
148 THE BOOK OF CHRISTiMAS.
to the cottage of the poor man has come a season
of temporal repose, concurrently with the falling of
that period which seals anew for him, as it were,
the promises of an eternal rest. At no other por-
tion of the year, could a feast of equal duration find
so many classes of men at leisure for its reception.
" With his ice, and snow, and rime,
Let bleak winter sternly come !
There is not a sunnier clime
Than the love-lit winter home."
Amid the comforts of the fireside, and all its sweet
companionships and cheerful inspirations, there is
something like the sense of a triumph obtained over
the hostilities of the season. Nature, which at other
times promotes the expansion of the feelings and
contributes to the enjoyments of man, seems here
to have promulgated her fiat against their indul-
gence ; and there is a kind of consciousness of an
inner world created, in evasion of her law, a tract
won by the genius of the affections from the domain
of desolation, spots of sunshine planted by the
heart in the very bosom of shadow, a pillar of fire
lit up in the darkness. And thus the sensation of
a respite from toil, the charms of renewed com-
panionship, the consciousness of a general sym-
pathy of enjoyment running along all the links of
the. social chain, and the contrasts established
within to the discomforts without, are all compo-
nents of that propitious feeling to which the religious
FEELINGS OF THE SEASON. 149
spirit of the season, and all its quaint and charac-
teristic observances, make their appeal.
There is, too (connected with these latter feelings,
and almost unacknowledged by the heart of man),
another moral element of that cheerful sentiment
which has sprung up within it. It consists in the
prospect, even at this distant and gloomy period, of
a coming spring. This is peculiarly the season of
looking forward. Already, as it were, the infant
face of the new year is perceived beneath the folds
of the old one's garment. The business of the
present year has terminated, and along the night
which has succeeded to its season of labor have
been set up a series of illuminations, which, we
know, will be extinguished only that the business
of another seed-time may begin.
Neither, amid all its dreary features, is the nat-
ural season without its own picturesque beauty,
nor even entirely divested of all its summer indi-
cations of a living loveliness, or all suggestions of
an eternal hope. Not only hath it the peculiar
beauties of old age, but it hath besides lingering
traces of that beauty which old age hath not been
able wholly to extinguish, and which come finely
in aid of the moral hints and religious hopes of
the season.
The former the graces which are peculiar to
the season itself exist in many a natural aspect
and grotesque effect, which is striking both for the
variety it offers and for its own intrinsic loveliness.
150 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
" We may find it in the wintry boughs, as they cross the
cold blue sky,
While soft on icy pool and stream the pencilled shadows
lie,
When we look upon their tracery, by the fairy frost-work
bound,
Whence the flitting red-breast shakes a shower of
blossoms to the ground."
The white mantle which the earth occasionally puts
on with the rapidity of a spell, covering, in the
course of a night and while we have slept, the
familiar forms with a sort of strangeness that makes
us feel as if we had awakened in some new and en-
chanted land ; the fantastic forms assumed by the
drifting snow ; the wild and fanciful sketching of old
winter upon the " frosty pane ; " the icicles that
depend like stalactites from every projection, and
sparkle in the sun like jewels of the most brilliant
water and, above all, the feathery investiture of the
trees above alluded to, by which their minute tracery
is brought out with a richness shaming the carving
of the finest chisel, are amongst the features which
exhibit the inexhaustible fertility of Nature in the
production of striking and beautiful effects. Hear
how one of our best poetesses, Mary Hovvitt, sings
of these graces :
" One silent night hath passed, and lo,
How beautiful the earth is now !
All aspect of decay is gone,
The hills have put their vesture on,
And clothed is the forest bough.
FEELINGS OF THE SEASON. 151
; Say not 't is an unlovely time !
Turn to the wide, white waste thy view ;
Turn to the silent hills that rise
In their cold beauty to the skies,
And to those skies intensely blue.
" Walk now among the forest trees :
Saidst thou that they were stripped and bare ?
Each heavy bough is bending down
With snowy leaves and flowers, the crown
Which Winter regally doth wear.
" 'T is well ; thy summer garden ne'er
Was lovelier, with its birds and flowers,
Than is this silent place of snow,
With feathery branches drooping low,
Wreathing around thee shadowy bowers ! "
While on the subject of the natural beauties of
this season, we must introduce our readers to some
admirable verses which have been furnished to us
by our friend Mr. Stoddart, the author of that fine
poem the "Death-Wake," and in which its peculiar
aspects are described with a very graphic pen :
A WINTER LANDSCAPE.
The dew-lark sitteth on the ice, beside the reedless rill ;
The leaf of the hawthorn flutters on the solitary hill ;
The wild lake weareth on its heart a cold and changed
look,
And meets, at the lip of its moon-lit marge, the spiritual
brook.
Idly basks the silver swan, near to the isle of trees,
And to its proud breast come and kiss the billow and the
breeze ;
152 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
They wash the eider as they play about the bird of grace,
And boom, in the same slow mood, away, to the moveless
mountain-base.
The chieftain-deer, amid the pines, his antlered forehead
shows,
And scarcely are the mosses bent where that stately one
arose ;
His step is as the pressure of a light beloved hand,
And he looketh like a poet's dream in some enchanted
land!
A voice of Winter, on the last wild gust of Autumn borne,
Is hurried from the hills afar, like the windings of a horn;
And solemnly and heavily the silver birches groan,
And the old ash waves his wizard hand to the dim, myste-
rious tone.
And noiselessly, across the heaven, a gray and vapory
shred
Is wandering, fed by phantom clouds that one by one are
led
Out of the wide North, where they grow within the aged sea,
And in their coils the yellow moon is laboring lazily !
She throws them from her mystic urn, as they were
beckoned back
By some enchantress, working out her spells upon their
track ;
Or gathers up their fleecy folds, and shapes them, as they
g>
To hang around her beautiful form a tracery of snow.
Lo, Winter cometh ! and his hoar is heavy on the hill,
And curiously the frostwork forms below the rimy rill ;
The birth of morn is a gift of pearl to the heath and willow-
tree,
And the green rush hangs o'er its water-bed, shining and
silvery.
FEELINGS OF THE SEASON. 153
From the calm of the lake a vapor steals its restless wreath
away,
And leaves not a crisp on the quiet tarn but the wake of
the swan at play ;
The deer holds up the glistening heath, where his hoof is
lightly heard,
And the dew-lark circleth to his song, sun-lost and lonely
bird !
But the season hath other striking aspects of its
own. Pleasant, says Southey,
" To the sobered sou],
The silence of the wintry scene,
When Nature shrouds her in her trance,
In deep tranquillity.
" Not undelightful now to roam
The wild heath sparkling on the sight;
Not undelightful now to pace
The forest's ample rounds,
" And see the spangled branches shine,
And snatch the moss of many a hue,
That varies the old tree's brown bark,
Or o'er the gray-stone spreads."
Mr. Southey might have mentioned, too, as be-
longing to the same class of effects with those pro-
duced by the mosses "of many a hue " that " vary
the old tree's brown bark," those members of the
forest which retain their dead and many tinted
leaves till the, ensuing spring, hanging occasional
wreaths of strange and fantastic beauty in the white
154 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
tresses of winter, together with the rich contrast
presented by the red twigs of the dog-wood amid
the dark colors of the surrounding boughs. The
starry heavens, too, at this period of the year, pre-
sent an occasional aspect of extraordinary bril-
liancy ; and the long winter nights are illustrated
by a pomp of illumination, presenting magnificent
contrasts to the cold and cheerless earth, and offer-
ing unutterable revelations at once to the physical
and mental eye.
Amongst the traces of a former beauty not utterly
extinguished, and the suggestions of a summer feel-
ing not wholly passed away, we have those both of
sight and scent and sound. The lark, "all inde-
pendent of the leafy spring," as Wordsworth says,
has not long ceased to pour his anthem through the
sky. In propitious seasons, such as we have en-
joyed for some years past, he is almost a Christmas-
carol singer. The China-roses are with us still,
and under proper management will stay with us till
the snowdrops come. So will the anemones and
the wallflowers ; and the aconite may be won to
come, long " before the swallow dares, and take the
winds of January with beauty." The cold air
may be kept fragrant with the breath of the scented
coltsfoot, and the lingering perfume of the migno-
nette. Then we have rosemary, too, "mocking the
winter of the year with perfume,"
" Rosemary and rue, which keep
Seeming and savor all the winter long."
FEELINGS OF THE SEASON. 155
" It looks," says Leigh Hunt, pleasantly, " as if
we need have no winter, if we choose, as far as
flowers are concerned." "There is a story," he
adds, " in Boccaccio, of a magician who con-
jured up a garden in winter-time. His magic
consisted in his having a knowledge beyond his
time ; and magic pleasures, so to speak, await
on all who choose to exercise knowledge after his
fashion."
But what we would allude to more particularly
here are the evergreens, which, with their rich and
clustering berries, adorn the winter season, offer-
ing a provision for the few birds that still remain,
and hanging a faint memory of summer about the
hedges and the groves. The misletoe with its white
berries, the holly (Virgil's acanthus) with its scarlet
berries and pointed leaves, the ivy whose berries are
green, the pyracanthus with its berries of deep
orange, the arbutus exhibiting its flowers and fruit
upon adjacent boughs, the glossy laurel and the
pink-eyed laurestine (not to speak of the red ber-
ries of the May-bush, the purple sloes of the black-
thorn, or others which show their clusters upon
leafless boughs, nor of the evergreen trees, the
pine, the fur, the cedar, or the cypress), are all
so many pleasant remembrancers of the past, and
so many types to man of that which is imperishable
in his own nature. And it is probably both because
they are such remembrancers of what the heart so
much loves, and such types of what it so much de-
156 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
sires, that they are gathered about our doors and
within our homes at this period of natural decay
and religious regeneration, and mingle their pic-
turesque forms and hopeful morals with all the
mysteries and ceremonies of the season.
COUNTRY CAROL SINGERS. Page 157.
SIGNS OF THE SEASON.
WE have said that the coming festivities of the sea-
son " fling their shadows '"' long before : the avant-
couriers of the old man are to be seen advancing
in all directions. At home and abroad, in town
and in country, in the remote farmstead and on
the king's highway, we are met by the symptoms
of his approach, and the arrangements making for
his reception.
We will not dwell here on the domestic opera-
tions which are so familiar to all, the ample pro-
vision for good cheer, which has long been making
in every man's home who can at any time afford
to make good cheer at all. We need not remind
our town readers of the increased activity visible
in all the interior departments of each establish-
ment, and the apparent extent and complication
of its foreign relations ; the councils held with the
housekeeper and cook; the despatches to the
butcher, baker, poulterer, and confectioner, which
are their consequence ; and the efficient state of
preparation which is arising out of all these ener-
158 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
getic movements. To our country readers we
need not dwell upon the slaughter of fowls in the
poultry-yard, and game in the field/ or the whole-
sale doings within doors for the manufacture of
pastry of all conceivable kinds and in all its con-
ceivable forms. And to neither the one nor the
other is it necessary that we should speak of the
packages, in every shape and size, which both are
getting ready, for the interchange between friends
of the commodities of their respective positions.
Here, however, the town has clearly the advantage
in point of gain, and the country in point of char-
acter, the former having little besides barrels of
oysters and baskets of Billingsgate fish to furnish
to the country larders in return for the entire range
of the products of the dairy, farmyard, and game-
field.
But however lightly we may allude to the other
articles which enter into the charge of the commis-
sariat department, and have no distinctive character,
at this particular season, beyond their unimaginable
abundance, we are by no means at liberty, without
a more special notice, to pass over the mystery of
MINCE- PIE ! We speak not here of the merits of
that marvellous compound; because a dish which
has maintained without impeachment, since long
before the days of honest old Tusser (who calls
these marvels shred-pies), the same supreme char-
acter which it holds amongst the men of these
latter days, may very well dispense with our com-
SIGNS OF THE SEASON. 159
mendation ; and every school-boy knows, from his-
own repeated experience, the utter inadequacy of
language to convey any notion of the ineffable fla-
vor of this unapproachable viand. The poverty of
speech is never so conspicuous as when even its
richest forms are used for the purpose of describing
that which is utterly beyond its resources ; and we
have witnessed most lamentable, although ludicrous,
failures, on the part of eloquent but imprudent men,
in their ambitious attempts to give expression to
their sensations under the immediate influence of
this unutterable combination. It is therefore to
other properties than those which make their ap-
peal to the palate that we must confine ourselves
in our mention of mince-pie.
The origin of this famous dish, like that of the
heroic in all kinds and classes, is involved in fable.
By some it has been supposed, from the Oriental
ingredients which enter into its composition, to
have a reference (as probably had also the plum-
porridge of those days) to the offerings made by
the wise men of the East ; and it was anciently the
custom to make these pies of an oblong form, there-
by representing the manger in which, on that occa-
sion, those sages found the infant Jesus. Against
this practice which was of the same character
with that of the little image called the Yule Dough,
or Yule Cake, formerly presented by bakers to their
customers at the anniversary of the Nativity the
Puritans made a vehement outcry, as idolatrous;
l6o THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
and certainly it appears to us somewhat more objec-
tionable than many of those which they denounced,
in the same category. Of course it was supported
by the Catholics with a zeal the larger part of
which (as in most cases of controversy where the
passions are engaged) was derived from the oppo-
sition of their adversaries ; and the latter having
pronounced the mince-pie to be an abomination,
the eating thereof was immediately established as
a test of orthodoxy by the former. Sandys men-
tions that even when distressed for a comfortable
meal they would refuse to partake of this very
tempting dish, when set before them, and mentions
John Bunyan when in confinement as an example.
He recommends that under such extreme circum-
stances they should be eaten with a protest, as
might be done by a lawyer in a similar case.
In a struggle like this, however, it is clear that
the advocates of mince-pie were likely to have the
best of it, through the powerful auxiliary derived to
their cause from the savoriness of the dish itself.
The legend of the origin of eating roast-pig, which
we have on the authority of Charles Lamb, exhibits
the rapid spread of that practice, against the sense
of its abomination, on the strength of the irresistible
appeals made to the palate by the crackling. And
accordingly, in the case of mince-pie we find that
the delicious compound has come down to our
days, stripped of its objectionable forms and more
mystic meanings, from the moment when they
SIGNS OF THE SEASON. l6l
ceased to be topics of disputation, and is freely
partaken of by the most rigid Presbyterian, who
raises " no question " thereon " for conscience'
sake."
It may be observed, however, that relics of the
more recondite virtues ascribed to this dish by the
Catholics, in the days of its sectarian persecution,
still exist in the superstitions which attach certain
privileges and promises to its consumption. In
some places the form of this superstition, we be-
lieve, is, that for every house in which a mince pie
shall be eaten at the Christmas season, the eater
shall enjoy a happy month in the coming year. As,
however, this version would limit the consumption,
as far as any future benefit is attached to it, to the
insufficient number of twelve, we greatly prefer an
edition of the same belief which we have met with
elsewhere, and which promises a happy day for
every individual pie eaten during the same period,-
thereby giving a man a direct and prospective in-
terest in the consumption of as large a number out
of three hundred and sixty-five as may happen to
agree with his inclination.
Leaving, however, those proceedings which are
going on within our homes, and of which the man-
ufacture of mince-pies forms so important an
article, we must turn to the symptoms of the ap-
proaching holiday that meet the eye at every turn
which we make out of doors. He who will take
the king's highway in his search after these, planting
1 62 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
himself on the outside of a stage-coach, will have
the greater number of such signs brought under
his observation in the progress of a journey which
whirls him through town and village, and by park
and farmhouse.
The road is alive with travellers ; and along its
whole extent there is an air of aimless bustle, if we
may so express ourselves, an appearance of active
idleness. No doubt he who shall travel that same
road in the days of hay-making or harvest will see
as dense a population following their avocations in
the open air and swarming in the fields. But then
at those periods of labor the crowds are more
widely scattered over the face of the country, and
each individual is earnestly engaged in the prosecu-
tion of some positive pursuit, amid a silence scarcely
broken by the distant whistle or occasional song
that comes faintly to the ear through the rich sunny
air. People are busier without being so bustling.
But now all men are in action, though all men's
business seems suspended. The population are
gathered together in groups at the corners of
streets or about the doors of ale-houses, and the
mingling voices of the speakers and the sound of
the merry laugh come sharp and ringing through
the clear frosty air. There is the appearance, every
way, of a season of transition. The only conspicu-
ous evidence of the business of life going forward
with a keen and steady view to its ordinary objects,
exists in the abundant displays made at the win-
SIGNS OF THE SEASON. 163
dows of every shopkeeper, in every village along the
road. Vehicles of all kinds are in motion ; stage-
coach, post-chaise, and private carriage are alike
filled with travellers passing in all directions to
their several places of assembling, and give glimp-
ses of faces bright with the re-awakened affections
that are radiating on all sides to common centres.
Everywhere hearts are stirred and pulses quickened
by pleasant anticipations ; and many a current of
feelings which for the rest of the year has wandered
only in the direction of the world's miry ways and
been darkened by its pollutions, met by the mem-
ories of the season and turned back from its un-
pleasing course, is flowing joyously back by every
highway into the sweet regions of its pure and
untainted spring.
But of all wayfarers who are journeying towards
the haunts of Christmas, who so happy as the
emancipated school-boy? And of all vehicles that
are carrying contributions of mirth to that general
festival, what vehicle is so richly stored therewith as
the post-chaise that holds a group of these young
travellers? The glad day which has been the sub-
ject of speculation so long before, and has been
preceded by days which, in their imaginary calen-
dar, are beyond any question the very longest days
of all the year, has at length arrived, after seeming
as if it never would arrive, and the long restrained
and hourly increasing tide of expectation has at
length burst its barriers, and is rushing forward with
164 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
no little noise, into the sea of fruition. " Eja !
quid silemus ? " says the well-known breaking-up
song of the Winchester boys ; and -the sentiment
therein expressed is wide awake (as everything
must be, on this morning, that lies within any rea-
sonable distance of their voices) in the breast of
every school-boy, at all schools.
"Appropinquat ecce ! felix
Hora gaudiorum,
Post grave tedium,
Advenit omnium
Meta petita laborum.
Domum, domum, dulce domum !
Domum, domum, dulce domum !
Dulce, dulce, dulce domum !
Dulce domum resonemus.
" Musa ! libros mitte, fessa ;
Mitte pensa dura,
Mitte negotium,
Jam datur otium,
Mea mittito cura !
Domum, domum, etc.
" Heus, Rogere, fer caballos ;
Eja mine eamus,
Limen amabile,
Matris et oscula,
Suaviter et repetamus
Domum, domum, etc.
" Concinamus ad Penates,
Vox et audiatur ;
Phosphore ! quid jubar,
Segnius emicans,
Gaudia nostra moratur.
Domum, domum, etc."
SIGNS OF THE SEASON. 165
And away they go well inclined to act up to the
injunctions of the ancient song. " Concinamus,
O Saddles!" Our readers will do well on the
present occasion to translate the verb by its Eng-
lish equivalent, to shout. " Vox et audiatur /"
small doubt of that ! That deaf-looking old woman
by the way-side must be " very deaf indeed " if the
sounds of that merriment have failed at least to
reach her ears, though they may get no further ;
for she looks like one of those in whom all the
avenues by which mirth reaches the heart, where
they have not been closed at their external outlets
by the infirmities of age, are choked up within by
the ruins of that heart itself. But the entire pro-
gress of these glad hearts to-day is in the nature of
a triumph, and all objects in its course are min-
isters to their unreflecting mirth. Theirs is the
blessed age, and this its most privileged day, when
the spirit can extract from all things the chyle of
cheerfulness. That urchin who is flinging alms (a
most gracious act in childhood !) is doing so to the
sound of his merry neighbor's trumpet; and yet
the act performed and the duty remembered, amid
all the heydey and effervescence of the spirits, has
not lost its gracefulness for the frolicsome mood
by which it is attended. There are men in this
world who dispense their charities to the flourish of
their own trumpets ; and though they are practised
performers on that instrument, and play with con-
siderable skill, the effect is unpleasing and the act a
1 66 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
mockery. Away go the light-hearted boys ! away
past the aged and the poor, as happiness has long
since done, and the happy have long continued to
do ! awaking the shrill echoes of the road and all
its adjacent fields with the sound of their revelry.
Every school-boy knows the programme. Flags
flying, horns blowing, racing against rival chaises,
taunts from the foremost, cheers from the hindmost,
all sorts of practical jokes upon each other and
upon all they meet and all they pass, and above all,
the loud, ringing laugh, the laugh of boyhood, so
unlike all other laughter, that comes out clear and
distinct, direct from the heart, stopping nowhere on
its way, not pausing to be questioned by the judg-
ment nor restrained by the memory, presenting no
hollowness nor flatness to the nicest attention, be-
traying no under-tone to the finest ear, giving true
and unbroken " echoes to the seat where mirth is
throned," born spontaneously of that spirit, and ex-
cited so often by causes too minute for older eyes
to see. And it is in this very causelessness that
consists the spell of childhood's laughter, and the
secret of youth's unmingled joy. We seldom begin
to seek reasons for being gay till we have had some
for being grave ; and the search after the former is
very apt to bring us upon more of the latter. There
are tares among that wheat. The moment we com-
mence to distrust our light-heartedness, it begins to
evade us. From the day when we think it neces-
sary to reason upon our enjoyments, to philosophize
SIGNS OF THE SEASON. 167
upon our mirth, to analyze our gladness, their free
and unmingled character is gone. The toy is taken
to pieces to see of what it was composed, and can
no more be put together in the same perfect form.
They who have entered upon the paths of knowl-
edge, or gone far into the recesses of experience,
like the men of yore who ventured to explore the
cave of Trophonius, may perhaps find some-
thing higher and better than the light-heartedness
they lose, but they smile never more as they smiled
of old. The fine, clear instrument of the spirit
that we bring with us from heaven is liable to in-
jury from all that acts upon it here ; and the string
that has once been broken or disordered, repair it
as we may, never again gives out the precise tone
which it did before. The old man, nay, even the
young man, let him be as merry as he may, and
laugh as long and loudly as he will, never laughs as
the school-boy laughs.
But of all this, and all the slumbering passions
yet to be awakened in those young breasts, and of
many a grief to come, there is no token to darken
the joy of to-day. The mighty pleasures towards
which they are hastening have as yet never
" broken the word of promise to their hope." The
postilions are of their party, and even he with the
bottle-nose, who seems to be none of the youngest,
is a boy for the nonce. The very horses appear to
have caught the spirit of the occasion, and toss
their heads and lay their haunches to the ground
1 68 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
and fling out their forelegs as if they drew the car
of Momus. The village boys return them shout for
shout, fling up their hats as the triumph approaches,
and follow it till their breath fails. The older passer-
by returns their uproarious salute, taking no um-
brage at their mischievous jokes and impish tricks,
and turning, as the sounds of the merry voices die
in the distance, to a vision of the days when he too
was a boy, and an unconscious rehearsal of the half-
forgotten song of " Dulce, dulce domum ! "
And then the "limen amabile," and the "matris
oscula," and the " Penates." towards which they
are advancing ; the yearning hearts that wait within
those homes to clasp them ; the bright eyes that
are even now looking out from windows to catch
the first token of " their coming, and look brighter
when they come ; " the quiet halls that shall ring
to-night to their young voices ; and the lanes and
alleys whose echoes they shall awaken to-morrow,
and still more loudly when the ice comes ; and,
above all, the Christmas revelries themselves ! The
whole is one crowded scene of enjoyment, across
whose long extent the happy school-boy has as
yet caught no glimpse of that black Monday which
forms the opposite and distant portal of this haunted
time.
Amongst the signs of the time that are conspicu-
ous upon the roads the traveller whose journeyings
bring him towards those which lead into the metrop-
olis will be struck by the droves of cattle that are
SIGNS OF THE SEASON. 169
making their painful way up to the great mart for
this great festival. But a still more striking, though
less noisy, Christmas symptom forms a very amusing
object to him who leaves London by such of its
highways as lead eastward. There is little exagger-
ation in the accompanying picture of a Lynn or
Bury coach on its town-ward journey with its freight
of turkeys at the Christinas season. Nay, as re-
gards the freightage itself, the artist has kept himself
within bounds. Many a time have we seen a Nor-
folk coach with its hampers piled on the roof and
swung from beneath the body, and its birds de-
pending, by every possible contrivance, from every
part from which a bird could be made to hang.
Nay, we believe it is not unusual with the proprie-
tors, at this season, to refuse inside passengers of
the human species, in favor of these Oriental gentry,
who "pay better;" and on such occasions of
course they set at defiance the restriction which
limits them to carrying " four insides." Within and
without, the coaches are crammed with the bird of
Turkey ; and a gentleman town-ward bound, who
presented himself at a Norwich coach-office at such
a time, to inquire the " fare to London," was pertly
answered by the bookkeeper, " Turkeys." Our
readers will acquit us of exaggeration when we tell
them that Mr. Hone, in his " Every-Day Book,"
quotes from an historical account of Norwich an
authentic statement of the amount of turkeys which
were transmitted from that city to London between
170 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
a Saturday morning and the night of Sunday, in
the December of 1793, which statement gives the
number as one thousand seven hundred, the weight
as nine tons, two hundredweight, and two pounds,
and the value as ^680. It is added that in the
two following days these were followed by half as
many more. We are unable to furnish the present
statistics of the matter; but in forty years which
have elapsed since that time the demand, and of
course the supply, must have greatly increased;
and it is probable that the coach-proprietors find it
convenient to put extra carriages on the road for
these occasions.
In making the annexed sketch we presume that
Mr. Seymour must have had in mind, and intended
to illustrate by "modern instances," that class of
" wise saws " such as " Birds of a feather flock to-
gether," "Tell me the company, and I will tell you
the man," and others which tend generally to show
that men are apt to catch the hues of surrounding
objects, and take the features of their associates.
If this was not his design, we have only the alter-
native conclusion, that he had drawn turkeys till
he could draw nothing else, and till his best efforts
at representing " the human face divine " resulted
in what the Scotch call a "bubbly-jock." Some
poet, in describing the perfections of his mistress's
countenance, speaks of it as conveying the impres-
sion that she " had looked on heaven, and caught
its beauty." Our friend the guard of this coach
SIGNS OF THE SEASON. 171
seems to have looked on those turkeys of which he
has charge till he has " caught their beauty." It is
impossible to conceive that the breath which he is
pouring into that horn of his should issue in any
other form of sound than that of a gobble. The
coachman is clearly a turkey in disguise ; and the
old-looking figure that sits behind him, with some-
thing like a sausage round its neck, is probably his
father. As for the swan with two necks that floats
on the panel of the coach-door, it is a strange-
looking bird at any time, but looks considerably
more strange in its present situation. It is unques-
tionably out of place, and forms no fitting cognizance
for a Norfolk coach at Christmas time.
Norfolk must be a noisy county. There must be
a " pretty considerable deal " of gabble towards the
month of November in that English Turkistan.
But what a silence must have fallen upon its farm-
yards since Christmas has come round ! Turkeys
are indisputably born to be killed. That is an
axiom. It is the end of their training, as it ought
to be (and, in one sense, certainly is) of their de-
sires. And such being the destiny of this bird, it
may probably be an object of ambition with a re-
spectable turkey to fulfil its fate at the period of
this high festival. Certain it is that at no other
time can it attain to such dignities as belong to
the turkey who smokes on the well-stored table of
a Christmas dinner, the most honored dish of all
the feast. Something like an anxiety for this pro-
172
THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
motion is to be inferred from the breathless haste
of the turkey of which our artist has here given us
a sketch, in its pursuit of the coach which has started
for London without it. The picture is evidently a
portrait. There is an air of verisimilitude in the
eager features, and about the action altogether, of
the bird, which stamps it genuine. In its anxiety
it has come off without even waiting to be killed ;
and at the rate after which it appears to be travel-
Too LATE FOR THE COACH.
ling, is, we think, likely enough to come up with a
heavily laden coach. We hope, however, that it is
not in pursuit of the particular coach which we have
seen on its way to the " Swan with two Necks,"
because we verily believe there is no room on that
conveyance for a single additional turkey, even if it
should succeed in overtaking it.
One of the most striking signs of the season, and
BRINGING HOME CHRISTMAS. Page 173.
SIGNS OF THE SEASON. 173
which meets the eye in all directions, is that which
arises out of the ancient and still familiar practice
of adorning our houses and churches with ever-
greens during the continuance of this festival. The
decorations of our mantel-pieces, and in many
places of our windows, the wreaths which ornament
our lamps and Christmas candles, the garniture of
our tables, are alike gathered from the hedges and
winter gardens ; and in the neighborhood of every
town and village the traveller may meet with some
such sylvan procession as is here represented, or
some group of boys returning from the woods
laden with their winter greenery, and like the sturdy
ambassador in the plate, engaged in what we have
heard technically called "bringing home Christmas."
This symptom of the approaching festivity is men-
tioned by Gay in his " Trivia " :
" When Rosemary and Bays, the poet's crown,
Are bawl'd in frequent cries through all the town,
Then judge the festival of Christmass near,
Christmass, the joyous period of the year !
Now with bright holly all the temples strow ;
With Lawrel green, and sacred Misletoe."
The practice of these decorations, which is rec-
ommended to modern times by its own pleasant-
ness and natural beauty, is of very high antiquity,
and has been ascribed by various writers to various
sources. They who are desirous of tracing a Chris-
tian observance to a Christian cause remind us of
those figurative expressions in the prophets which
174 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
speak of the Messiah as the " Branch of righteous-
ness," etc., and describe by natural allusions the
fertility which should attend his coming. "The
Lord shall comfort Zion," says Isaiah : " he will
comfort all her waste places ; and he will make her
wilderness like Eden, and her desert like the garden
of the Lord." Again, "The glory of Lebanon
shall come unto thee, the fir tree, the pine tree, and
the box together, to beautify the place of my sanc-
tuary ; and I will make the place of my feet glori-
ous." And Nehemiah, on an occasion of rejoicing,
orders the people, after the law of Moses, to "go
forth unto the mount and fetch olive branches, and
pine branches, and myrtle branches, and palm
branches, and branches of thick trees," and to make
booths thereof, "every one upon the roof of his
house, and in their courts, and in the courts of the
house of God," and in the streets; "and all the
congregation of them that were come again out of
the captivity " sat under these booths, " and there
was very great gladness." A writer in the " Gentle-
man's Magazine " asks if this custom may not be re-
ferred, as well as that of the palms on Palm Sunday,
to that passage in the Scripture account of Christ's
entry into Jerusalem which states that the multitude
"cut down branches from the trees, and strawed
them in the way."
The practice, however, of introducing flowers and
branches amongst the tokens of festivity seems,
and very naturally, to have existed universally and
at all times. It was, as we know, a pagan mani-
SIGNS OF THE SEASON. 175
festation of rejoicing and worship, and is forbidden
on that express ground in early councils of the
Christian Church. Hone, in his " Every-Day Book,"
quotes Polydore Virgil to the effect that " trymming
of the temples with hangynges, flowres, boughes,
and garlondes, was taken of the heathen people,
whiche decked their idols and houses with suche
array; " and it came under the list of abominations
denounced by the Puritans for the same reason.
The practice was also in use amongst the nations
both of Gothic and Celtic origin j and Brand quotes
from Dr. Chandler's "Travels in Greece" a very
beautiful superstition, mentioned as the reason of
this practice, amongst the votaries of Druidism.
" The houses," he says, " were decked with ever-
greens in December, that the sylvan spirits might
repair to them and remain unnipped with frost and
cold winds until a milder season had renewed the
foliage of their darling abodes."
In England the practice, whencesoever derived,
has existed from the very earliest days, and, in
spite of outcry and prohibition, has come down
in full vigor to our own. In former times, as we
learn from Stow, in his " Survey of London," not only
were our houses and churches decorated with ever-
greens, but also the conduits, standards, and crosses
in the streets ; and in our own day they continue
to form a garniture not only of our temples and
our houses, but constitute a portion of the striking
display made at this festive season in our markets
and from the windows of our shops. Holly forms
176 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
a decoration of the shambles, and every tub of
butter has a sprig of rosemary in its breast.
The plants most commonly in use- for this pur-
pose appear to have generally been the holly, the
ivy, the laurel, the rosemary, and the mistletoe ;
although the decorations were by no means lim-
ited to these materials. Brand expresses some
surprise at finding cypress included in the list, as
mentioned in the tract called " Round about our
Coal-Fire," and observes that he " should as soon
have expected to have seen the yew as the cypress
used on this joyful occasion." The fact, however,
is that yew is frequently mentioned amongst the
Christmas decorations, as well as box, pine, fir, and
indeed the larger part of the Christmas plants which
we have enumerated in a former chapter. The
greater number of these appear to have been so
used, not on account of any mystic meanings sup-
posed to reside therein, but simply for the sake of
their greenery or of their rich berries. Stow speaks
of the houses being decked with " whatsoever the
year afforded to be green ; " and Sandys observes
that " at present great variety is observed in dec-
orating our houses and buildings, and many flowers
are introduced that were unknown to our ancestors,
but whose varied colors add to the cheerful effect ;
as the chrysanthemum, satin-flower, etc., mingling
with the red berry of the holly and the mystic
mistletoe. In the West of England," he adds, " the
myrtle and laurustinum form a pleasing addition."
SIGNS OF THE SEASON. 177
There is a very beautiful custom which we find
mentioned in connection with the subject of ever-
greens as existing at this season of the year in some
parts of Germany and Sicily. A large bough is set
up in the principal room, the smaller branches of
which are hung with little presents suitable to the
different members of the household. " A good deal
of innocent mirth and spirit of courtesy," it is
observed, " is produced by this custom."
Herrick, however (a poet amid whose absurd
conceits and intolerable affectation there are sam-
ples of the sweetest versification and touches of the
deepest pathos, and who amongst a great deal
that is liable to heavier objections still, has pre-
served many curious particulars of old ceremonies
and obsolete superstitions), carries this custom of
adorning our houses with evergreens over the
entire year, and assigns to each plant its pecu-
liar and appropriate season. To Christmas he ap-
points those which we have stated to be most
commonly used on that occasion, but insists upon
a change of decoration on the eve of Candlemas
Day:
" Down with the rosemary, and so
Down with the baies and misletoe ;
Down with the holly, ivie, all
Wherewith you drest the Christmas hall ;
That so the superstitious find
Not one least branch there left behind ; "
and he urges the maids to the careful performance
of this charge by the following threat :
178 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
" For look ! how many leaves there be
Neglected there, maids, trust to me,
So many goblins you shall see." .
The plant by which he orders these to be replaced
for Candlemas Day is box, whose turn is to con-
tinue
" Until the dancing Easter Day
Or Easter's Eve appeare."
Then the box is to make way for " the crisped
yew ; " which is to be succeeded at Whitsuntide
by birch and the flowers of the season ; and these
again are to yield to the
" Green rushes, then, and sweetest bents,
With cooler oken boughs ; "
whose reign continues till the period again comes
round of preparation for Christmas. We believe
that it is still usual in many parts of England to
suffer the Christmas greens to remain in the win-
dows of our churches, and sometimes of our houses,
until Candlemas Eve.
Of those plants, then, which are considered as
containing meanings that make them appropriate
decorations for the Christmas-tide, or which have
for any reason been peculiarly devoted to that
season, the laurel, or bay, may be dismissed in a few
words. Since the days of the ancient Romans this
tree has been at all times dedicated to all purposes
of joyous commemoration, and its branches have
been used as the emblems of peace and victory
SIGNS OF THE SEASON. 179
and joy. Of course its application is obvious to a
festival which includes them all, which celebrates
" peace on earth," " glad tidings of great joy," and
a triumph achieved over the powers of evil and
the original curse by the coming of the Saviour.
We may add that, besides forming a portion of
the household decorations, it is usual in some places
to fling branches and sprigs of laurel on the Christ-
mas fire, and seek for omens amid the curling and
crackling of its leaves :
" When laurell spirts i' th' fire, and when the hearth
Smiles to itselfe and guilds the roofe with mirth;
When up the Thyrse is rais'd, and when the sound
Of sacred orgies flyes around, around,"
says Herrick. At the two English universities the
windows of the college chapels are still carefully
decked with laurel at the season of Christmas.
The holly is a plant of peculiar veneration at this
period of the year, so much so as to have acquired
to itself by a popular metonymy the name of the
season itself, being vulgarly called " Christmas."
It is no doubt recommended to the general estima-
tion in which it is held by the picturesque forms of
its dark, glossy leaves and the brilliant clusters of
its rich red berries. There is in the Harleian
Manuscripts a very striking carol of so remote a
date as the reign of Henry VI., which is quoted
by most of the writers on this subject, and gives a
very poetical statement of the respective claims of
this plant and of the ivy to popular regard. The
180 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
inference from the second and fourth verses (taken
in connection with the authorities which place it
amongst the plants used for the Christmas orna-
ments) would seem to be, that while the former
was employed in the decorations within doors, the
latter was confined to the exteriors of buildings.
Mr. Brand, however, considers those passages to
allude to its being used as a vintner's sign and
infers from others of the verses that it was also
amongst the evergreens employed at funerals. It
runs thus :
" Nay, Ivy ! nay, it shall not be, I wys ;
Let Holy hafe the maystry, as the manner ys.
" Holy stond in the halle, fayre to behold ;
Ivy stond without the dore : she ys ful sore a cold.
Nay, Ivy ! etc.
" Holy and hys mery men they dawnsyn and they syng.
Ivy and hur maydenys they wepyn and they wryng.
Nay, Ivy ! etc.
" Ivy hath a lyve ; she laghtyt with the cold :
So mot they all hafe that wyth Ivy hold.
Nay, Ivy ! etc.
" Holy hat berys as rede as any rose,
The foster the hunters kepe hem from the doos.
Nay, Ivy ! etc.
" Ivy hath berys as blake as any slo ;
Ther com the oule and ete hym as she goo.
Nay, Ivy ! etc.
SIGNS OF THE SEASON. l8l
" Holy hath byrdys a ful fayre flok,
The Nyghtyngale, the Popping}-, the gayntyl Lavyrok.
Nay, Ivy ! etc.
" Good Ivy, what byrdys ast thou ?
Non but the howlet that kreye ' How, how ! '
Nay, Ivy I nay, hyt shal not, etc."
We had some thoughts of modernizing the or-
thography, and very slightly the diction, of this
curious old ballad ; but it reads best in its own
quaint garb, and even those of our friends who
are not in the habit of perusing ancient writings
will find scarcely any difficulty in making it out.
The rosemary, besides its rich fragrance, and
probably because thereof, was supposed to possess
many occult virtues, and was used for the sake of
one or other of them on occasions both of rejoicing
and of mourning. It was believed to clear the
head, to strengthen the memory, and to make
touching appeals to the heart. For these reasons
it was borne both at weddings and at funerals.
Herrick says :
" Grow for two ends, it matters not at all,
Be 't for my bridal or my burial."
" There 's rosemary," says Ophelia ; " that 's for
remembrance : pray you, love, remember ; " and the
custom of decking the corpse with this flower, as
well as that of flinging its sprigs into the grave,
would naturally spring out of this touching su-
perstition. Its presence at bridals would seem to
182 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
suggest that it was dedicated to hope as well as to
memory. We have in Shakspeare's play of" Romeo
and Juliet " allusions to the use of this herb on both
of these important but very different occasions, which
allusions are affecting from the application of both
to the same young girl. The first, which refers to
the joyous celebration, occurs in an interview be-
tween Romeo and the Nurse of Juliet, in which
arrangements are making for the secret marriage,
where the garrulous old woman observes, as hinting
at Juliet's willingness, " She hath the prettiest sen-
tentious of it, of you and rosemary, that it would
do you good to hear it." The second is in that
scene in which Juliet is supposed to be dead :
"Friar. Come, is the bride ready to go to church?
Capulet, Ready to go, but never to return ! "
And is inserted amongst the holy father's exhorta-
tions to resignation :
" Dry up your tears, and stick your rosemary
On this fair corse ; and, as the custom is,
In all her best array bear her to church."
Independently of the beautiful suggestion to re-
membrance which is made by its enduring perfume,
that precious perfume itself would recommend this
herb, for reasons less fine, as " stre wings fitt'st for
graves." The fact of its being in bloom at this
season would naturally introduce the rosemary,
with all its fine morals, into the Christmas celebra-
SIGNS OF THE SEASON. 183
tions ; and such customs as that which prescribed
that the wassail-bowl should be stirred with a sprig
of this plant before it went round amongst friends,
seem to have a very elegant reference to its secret
virtues (" that 's for remembrance," perhaps), and
suggest that the revellings of the season in those
old times were mingled with the best and most
refined feelings of our nature.
But the mistletoe, the mystic mistletoe,
where is the man whose school-boy days are gone
by, in whom that word conjures up no merry
memories ?
" Oh, the mistletoe-bough ! " who hath not, at
the name, thronging visions of sweet faces that
looked sweetest in those moments of their startled
beauty beneath the pendent bough ! If the old
spells with which superstition has invested the
mistletoe have lost some of their power over me, it
hath now another, which in earlier days I knew not
of, the power to restore the distant and to raise
the dead. I am to laugh no more as I have
laughed of old beneath the influence of that mystic
cognizance of the gay Christmas-tide ; but even
now as I write thereof, look in upon my heart
bright portraits, traced with a skill which no mor-
tal pencil shall achieve, faces on which the earth
hath long lain, and others from whom the wide
spaces of the world have separated me for many
a weary year; and, heavier far, some to whom
unkindness hath made me too long a stranger !
184 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
There they rise and stand, one by one, beneath
the merry snare, each with the heightened beauty
on her cheek, which is the transient gift of the
sacred bough !
O M ! how very fair is thine image in the
eye of memory, and how has thy going away
changed all things for me ! The bright and the
beautiful lie still about, still bright and beautiful
even to me, but in another manner than when
thou wert here. All things are tinged with thy
loss. All fair things have a look, and all sweet
sounds a tone, of mourning since thou leftest me.
How long it seems, as if ages, instead of years,
of the grave had grown between us, as if, indeed,
I had known thee in some former and far-removed
state of being ! I do not love to think of thee as
dead, I strive to think of thee rather as of one
whom I have left behind in the quiet valley of our
youth and our love, from whom I have wandered
forth and lost my way amid the mazes of the world.
But where is the clew that should lead me back
to thee? There may have been fairer (sweeter
never) things than thou in this fair world, but my
heart could never be made to believe or under-
stand it. Had I known thee only in that world, I
might not so have marked thy beauty; but thou
wert with me when the world left me. In the
flood of the sunshine, when a thousand birds are
about us, we go upon our way with a sense that
there is melody around, but singling perhaps
SIGNS OF THE SEASON. 185
no one note to take home to the heart and make a
worship of. But the one bird that sings to us in
the dim and silent night oh ! none but they on
whom the night has fallen can know how dear its
song becomes, filling with its music all the deserted
mansions of the lonely soul. But the bird is dead,
the song is hushed, and the houses of my
spirit are empty and silent and desolate !
And thou whom the grave hath not hidden,
nor far distance removed, from whom I parted as
if it were but yesterday, and yet of whom I have
already learned to think as of one separated from
me by long years of absence and death, as if it
were very long since I had beheld thee, as if I
gazed upon thee from a far distance across the
lengthened and dreary alleys of the valley of the
dead ! Physically speaking, thou art still within my
reach ; and yet art thou to me as if the tomb or
the cloister had received thee, and made of thee
(what the world or the grave makes of all things
we have loved) a dream of the night, a phantom
of the imagination, an angel of the memory, a
creation of the hour of shadows ! Whatever may
be thy future fortunes, however thy name may here-
after be borne to my mortal ear, my heart will ever
refuse to picture thee but as one who died in her
youth !
And thou! thou too art there, with thy long
fair hair and that harp of thine which was so long
an ark of harmony for me. " Alas ! we had been
1 86 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
friends in youth." But all things bring thee back,
and I am haunted yet, and shall be through the
world, by the airs which thou wert-wont to sing
me long ago. I remember that even in those days,
at times, in the silent night, when broken snatches
of melodies imperfectly remembered stole through
the chambers of my heart, ever in the sweet
tones in which it had learned to love them, I have
asked myself if the ties that bound us might ever
be like those passing and half-forgotten melodies ;
if the time could ever come when they should be
like an old song learned in life's happier day, and
whose memory has been treasured, to make us
weep in the years when the heart has need to be
soothed by weeping ; if there would ever be a
day when thy name might be sounded in mine ear
as the name of a stranger ! And that day has long
since come,
" For whispering tongues will poison truth."
How truly may we be said to live but in the past
and in the future, to have our hearts made up
of memory and of hope, for which the present be-
comes, hour after hour, more and more of a void !
And alas ! is it not true, as a consequence, that the
more they are occupied with memory, the less room
have they for hope? And thus the one is ever
gaining upon the other, and the dark waters of
memory are hourly spreading upon that shore
where hope had room to build her edifices and to
SIGNS OF THE SEASON. 187
play about them, till at length they cover all,
and hope, having "no rest for the sole of her foot,"
flies forward to a higher and a better shore !
And such are my visions of the mistletoe ; these
are amongst the spirits that rise up to wait upon my
memory, " they and the other spirits " of the mys-
tic bough ! But brighter fancies has that charmed
branch for many of our readers, and merrier spirits
hide amid its leaves. Many a pleasant tale could
we tell of the mistletoe-bough which might amuse
our readers more than the descriptions to which we
are confined, if the limits of our volume would per-
mit. But already our space is scarcely sufficient
for our purpose. We think we can promise our
readers in another volume a series of tales con-
nected with the traditions and superstitions which
are detailed in the present, and which may serve
as illustrations of the customs of the Christmas-tide.
Some of the names by which this remarkable
plant were formerly called are, " misselden," " mis-
seldine," and, more commonly, "missel." Old
Tusser tells us that,
" If snow do continue, sheep hardly that fare,
Crave mistle and ivy ; "
and Archdeacon Nares says " the missel-thrush " is
so designated " from feeding on its berries." From
the generality of the examples in which this plant is
mentioned by the name of " missel," it is suggested
to us, by Mr. Crofton Croker that the additional
l88 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
syllable given to the name now in common use is
a corruption of the old tod, and that mistletoe, or
mistletod, implies a bush, or bunch, o'f missel, such
as is commonly hung up at Christmas. He quotes
in support of this suggestion the corresponding
phrase of " ivy-tod," which occurs frequently in the
writings of the Elizabethan age. If this be so, the
expression " the mistletoe-bough " includes va tau-
tology ; but as it is popularly used, we retain it
for the instruction of such antiquarians of remote
future times as may consult our pages for some ac-
count of the good old customs which are disap-
pearing so fast, and may fail to reach their day.
That 'this plant was held in veneration by the
pagans, has been inferred from a passage in Virgil's
description of the descent into the infernal regions.
That passage is considered to have an allegorical
reference to some of the religious ceremonies
practised amongst the Greeks and Romans, and a
comparison is therein drawn between the golden
bough of the infernal regions, and what is obviously
the misletoe :
" Quale solet silvis brumali frigore viscum
Fronde virere nova, quod non sua seminat arbos,
Et croceo fetu teretis circumdare truncos," etc.
The reference is given by Mr. Christie in his
" Enquiry into the Ancient Greek Game " of Pala-
medes ; and he mentions likewise the respect in
which this plant was held by the Gothic as well as
SIGNS OF THE SEASON. 189
the Celtic nations. Sandys furnishes a legend from
the Edua in proof of the extraordinary qualities
ascribed to it by the former. Amongst the Celtic
nations it is well known to have been an object of
great veneration, and the ceremony of collecting it
by the Druids against the festival of the winter
solstice was one of high solemnity. It was cut by
the prince of the Druids himself, and with a
golden sickle. It was said that those only of the
oaks were sacred to the Druids which had the mis-
tletoe upon them, and that the reverence of the
people towards the priests, as well as their esti-
mation of the mistletoe, proceeded in a great
measure from the cures which the former effected
by means of that plant. Medicinal properties, we
believe, are still ascribed to it, and it was not very
long ago deemed efficacious in the subduing of
convulsive disorders. Sir John Colbatch, in his dis-
sertation concerning it, observes that this beauti-
ful plant must have been designed by the Almighty
" for further and more noble purposes than barely
to feed thrushes, or to be hung up surreptitiously in
houses to drive away evil spirits." Against the lat-
ter it appears to have been used as a charm up to
the last century.
Its introduction into the Christian festival might
therefore be considered appropriate as emblematic
of the conquest obtained over the spirits of dark-
ness by the event of the Nativity ; and perhaps
its supposed healing properties might be deemed to
1 90 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
recommend it further, as a symbol of the moral
health to which man was restored from the original
corruption of his nature, and a fitting demonstra-
tion of the joy which hailed the " Sun of Righte-
ousness" that had arisen, "with healing in his
wings. "
Notwithstanding all this, however, Brand is of
opinion that its heathen origin should exclude it
at all events from the decorations of our churches,
and quotes a story told him by an old sexton at
Teddington, in Middlesex, of the clergyman of that
place having observed this profane plant inter-
mingled with the holly and ivy which adorned the
church, and ordered its immediate removal. Wash-
ington Irving, who has studied old English customs
and manners with sincere regard, introduces a simi-
lar rebuke from the learned parson to his unlearned
clerk, in his account of the Christmas spent by him
at Bracebridge Hall.
The reverence of the mistletoe among the Ancient
Britons appears, however, to have been limited to
that which grew upon the oak ; whereas the Viscum
album, or common mistletoe, the sight of whose
pearly berries brings the flush into the cheek of the
maiden of modern days, may be gathered be-
sides from the old apple-tree, the hawthorn, the
lime-tree, and the Scotch or the silver fir. Whether
there remain any traces of the old superstitions
which elevated it into a moral or a medical amulet,
beyond that which is connected with the custom
THE MISTLETOE BOUGH. Page 191.
SIGNS OF THE SEASON. 19 1
alluded to in the opening of our remarks upon this
plant, and represented, by our artist here, we
know not. We should, however, be very sorry to
see any light let in amongst us which should fairly
rout a belief connected with so agreeable a privilege
as this. That privilege, as all our readers know,
consists in the right to kiss any female who may be
caught under the mistletoe-bough, and, we may
hope, will continue, for its own pleasantness, even
if the superstition from which it springs should be
finally lost. This superstition arose, clearly enough,
out of the old mystic character of the plant in ques-
tion, and erects it into a charm, the neglect of
which exposes to the imminent danger of all the
evils of old-maidenism. For, according to Arch-
deacon Nares, the tradition is, " that the maid who
was not kissed under it, at Christmas, would not
be married in that year," by which, we presume,
the Archdeacon means in the following year. Ac-
cordingly, a branch of this parasitical plant was
hung (formerly with great state, but now it is
generally suspended with much secrecy) either
from the centre of the roof, or over the door, and
we recommend this latter situation to our readers,
both as less exposed to untimely observation, and
because every maiden who joins the party must of
necessity do so by passing under it. We learn
from Brand that the ceremony was not duly per-
formed unless a berry was plucked off with each
kiss. This berry, it is stated by other authorities,
igz THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
was to be presented for good luck to the maiden
kissed ; and Washington Irving adds that " when
the berries are all plucked, the privilege ceases."
If this be so, it behooves the maidens of a household
to take good care that the branch provided for
the occasion shall be as well furnished with these
pearly tokens as the feast is likely to be with candi-
dates for the holy state of matrimony. The prac-
tice is still of very common observance in kitchens
and servants' halls, particularly in the country.
But, as we have hinted, we have met with it (and
so, we dare say, have most of our readers) in
higher scenes ; and many a merry laugh have we
heard ring from beneath the mistletoe-bough.
There are lips in the world that we would gladly
meet there in this coming season.
Another of the symptoms of the approaching
season which has, at least to us, a very pleasing
effect, consists in the bursts of solemn minstrelsy
by which we are aroused from our slumbers in the
still hour of the winter nights, or which, failing
to break our sleep, mingle with our dreams, leading
us into scenes of enchantment, and filling them
with unearthly music. This midnight minstrelsy,
whether it comes in the shape of human voices,
hallowing the night by the chanting of the Christ-
mas carol, or breaks upon the silence of the mid-
watches from the mingling instruments of those
wandering spirits of harmony, the waits, has in
each case its origin in the Gloria in Excelsis, the
SIGNS OF THE SEASON. 193
song with which the angels hailed the birth of the
Redeemer in the fields near Bethlehem. " As
soon," says Jeremy Taylor, " as these blessed chor-
isters had sung their Christmas carol, and taught
the Church a hymn to put into her offices forever
on the anniversary of this festivity, the angels re-
turned into heaven." Accordingly, these nocturnal
hymns, although they spread over the entire period of
Advent, grow more and more fervent and frequent
as the season approaches, and the night which
ushers in the great day itself is filled through-
out all its watches with the continued sounds of
sacred harmony. How beautiful is the effect given
to this music by this consideration of its meaning
and its cause ! Many and many a time have we
been awakened by the melody of the waits when
" The floor of heaven
Was thick inlaid with patines of bright gold,"
and have lain and listened to their wild minstrelsy,
its solemn swells and " dying falls " kept musical
by the distance and made holy by the time, till we
have felt amid all those influences as if it were
" No mortal business, nor no sound
That the earth owes,"
and could have fancied that the " morning stars "
were again singing, as of old they " sang together
for joy," and that the sounds of their far anthem
came floating to the earth. This sort of fancy haf
'3
194 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
occurred over and over again to him who has looked
out from his bed upon a sky full of stars, and lis-
tened at the same time to invisible and distant music,
under the holy impressions of the season. Shak-
speare has helped us to this feeling, perhaps, as we
can trace his influence upon all our feelings, and
upon none more than the most sacred or the most
solemn :
" There 's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st,
But in his motion like an angel sings,
Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubims ;
Such harmony is in immortal souls."
To the rudest carol that ever flung its notes upon
the still air of these solemn hours we have heark-
ened with a hush of pleasure which recognized how
well
" Soft stillness, and the night,
Become the touches of sweet harmony ! "
And the wildest music that ever broke upon that
solemn calm from the instruments of the most un-
skilful waits, if it were but remote enough to keep
its asperities out of the ear, and send us only its
floating tones, has brought Shakspeare into our
hearts again :
" Portia. Methinks it sounds much sweeter than by day.
Nerissa. Silence bestows that virtue on it, madam."
The waits of to-day are the remote and degene-
rated successors of those ancient bards who filled
an important place in the establishments of princes
SIGNS OF THE SEASON. 195
and nobles, as also of those wandering members
of the fraternity who, having no fixed position, car-
ried their gift of music from place to place as the
tournament or the festival invited. Those of our
readers who have much acquaintance with the old
chroniclers have not to be told by us that these
latter were frequently drawn together in consider-
able numbers by the Christmas celebrations. The
name " wait," or " wayte," itself is of great antiquity
amongst us, and appears to have been the title
given to some member of the band of minstrels
who either replaced the ancient minstrel-chronicler
in the royal establishments, or was probably under
his direction, the duty of which particular member
it was to pass at night from door to door of the
chambers and pipe the watches upon some species
of instrument. As early as the reign of Edward
III. we have mention of this individual minstrel
by his title of " wayte," and in the subsequent ordi-
nances for royal households the name frequently
occurs. Dr. Burney, in his " History of Music,"
quotes from the " Liber niger domus regis," of Ed-
ward IV.'s time, a full description of the duties,
privileges, and perquisites of this ancient officer.
It is probably from this member of the royal
household and his office that the corporations for
towns borrowed their earliest appointment of watch-
men ; and the ancestors of those ancient gentlemen
whose most sweet voices are amongst the lost
sounds of the metropolis, and whose mysterious
196 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
cries will soon, we fear, be a dead language, were
no doubt in their original institution minstrels or
waits. The sworn waits are, we believe, still at-
tached to many corporations (although some of
their duties have been alienated, and some of their
prerogatives usurped), and amongst others to that
of the City of London. The bellman and those
" wandering voices," the watchmen, where they still
exist, have, however, a title to the same high and
far descent, and have succeeded to most of the
offices of the ancient waits. It would seem, too,
that both these latter important personages have
at all times had it in view to assert their claim to
a minstrel origin, their announcements being gener-
ally chanted in a species of music quite peculiar to
themselves, and such as the world can never hope
to hear again when these gentry shall be extinct.
" Oh, what a voice is silent ! " wrote Barry
Cornwall long before the introduction of the new
police into our streets ; and the passionate excla-
mation must surely have originated in a prophetic
vision of the 'extinction of the Dogberry who piped
the night-watches in Bedford Square. As for those
wandering musicians who charm the long nights of
the Christmas time with unofficial music, and are
waits by courtesy, they bear the same relation to
the corporation minstrels of modern times as did
the travelling bards of former days to the ancient
minstrels who were established in the households
of nobles or of kings. The waits still on some
WAITS. Page 197.
SIGNS OF THE SEASON. 197
occasions close their performance by calling the
hour, and by certain other announcements de-
scriptive of the weather or characteristic of the
season.
The sacred origin and meaning of this practice
have, however, in modern days been a good deal
lost sight of by these uncertificated harmonists
in their selection of tunes. In London, particu-
larly, the appropriate music of religious celebration,
which in awaking the sleeper should bring the
lessons of the season directly to his heart, are
(excepting perhaps on the eve of the Nativity it-
self) most frequently supplanted by the airs of the
theatre ; and the waits for the most part favor us
by night with repetitions of the melodies with
which the barrel-organists have labored to make
us familiarly acquainted during the day. It is
with some such strain that the group of instru-
mentalists, by whom our artist has here represented
these peripatetic musicians, appear to be regaling
their neighborhood, in so far as we may venture to
judge of the character of the music, by the accom-
paniment which it is receiving from the lady in the
distance. Not that we could by any means have
conjectured from the appearance of the performers
themselves that the air, however profane, had been
at all of the lively, unless what poor Matthews
called the "deadly lively," kind, and, in fact, the
vicinity in which the lady appears may perhaps
suggest that her joyous inspiration is not derived
198 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
wholly from the music. She appears to be dancing
" unto her own heart's song." If we may presume
to argue from the aspects and attitudes of the
gentlemen of the bass-viol and flute, he of the
trombone (who is evidently performing with con-
siderable energy) appears to have got a good way
before his companions without being at all con-
scious of it ; and indeed there is something about
his accoutrements, if carefully inspected, which
seems to hint that the source of his vigor, and
perhaps of his unconsciousness, is of the same
kind with that of the lady's liveliness. We have
in the case of each a sort of insinuation as to the
cause of the spirited character of the performances,
and in that of our friend with the trombone it
seems a good deal more clear that his pocket has
contributed to the supply of his instrument than
that his instrument will ever do much for the sup-
ply of his pocket. As for the violin, it is clearly
in the enjoyment of a sinecure at this late hour,
the sensitive performer having apparently lulled
himself to sleep with his own music. " Poor
knave, I blame thee not ; thou art o'er watched ! "
" O murd'rous slumber,
Lay'st thou thy leaden mace upon my boy
That plays thee music ? Gentle knave, good night ;
I will not do thee so much wrong to wake thee."
But we will not answer for the old gentleman with
the water-jug, who looks down so benignantly from
SIGNS OF THE SEASON. 199
that window overhead. He seems about to furnish
an illustration of the assertion that
" The heart that music cannot melt,
Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils ; "
and appears to have conceived a stratagem against
the group below which, if carried into success-
ful execution on this winter night, will probably
spoil more than the music. It bids fair at once
to waken the violin-player and to silence the
trombone.
The practice of hailing the Nativity with music,
in commemoration of the song of the angels, is in
full observance in Roman Catholic countries as
well as in our own. There are, we fancy, few of
our readers who have not had opportunities of
listening to the divine strains which mingle in the
Roman services that usher in the blessed morning
itself. The noels of France are of the same char-
acter as the Christmas carols of England ; and the
visits of our street musicians at this season are
closely resembled by the wanderings of the Italian
pifferari. These pifferari are Calabrian shepherds
who come down from the mountains at the season
of Advent, and enter the Italian cities, saluting
with their hill music the shrines of the Virgin and
Child which adorn the streets. Of these rude min-
strels Lady Morgan, in her " Italy," gives some ac-
count, and states that having frequently observed
them stopping to play before the shop of a carpen-
200 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
ter in Rome, her inquiries on the subject were an-
swered by the information that the intention of this
part of their performance, was to give his due share
of honor to Saint Joseph. Our friend Mr. Hone, in
his " Every-Day Book," has given, from an old print
in his possession, a representation of this practice,
in which two of these mountaineers are playing be-
fore the shrine of the Virgin. The practice is con-
tinued till the anniversary day of the Nativity.
With modern carol-singing there are few of our
readers, in town or in country (for the practice,
like that of which we have just spoken, is still very
general), who are not well acquainted. For some
curious antiquarian information on the subject we
must refer them to Mr. Sandys's Introduction, and
to a paper in Mr. Hone's book of " Ancient Mys-
teries." The word itself is derived by Brand, after
Bourne, from cantare, to sing, and rola, an in-
terjection of joy ; and although in vulgar accept-
ance it has come to be understood as implying
particularly those anthems by which the Christmas-
tide is distinguished, it has at all times been proper-
ly applied to all songs which are sung upon any
occasion of festival or rejoicing. In strictness,
therefore, even in its application to the musical
celebrations of Advent, a distinction should be
drawn between those carols which are of a joyous
or festive character, and those more solemn ones
which would be better described by the title of
Christmas hymns.
SIGNS OF THE SEASON. 2OI
The practice itself, as applied to religious com-
memoration, is drawn from the very first ages of the
Church. It is frequently referred to in the Apos-
tolic writings, and the celebrated letter of the
younger Pliny to the Emperor Trajan, in the
seventh year of the second Christian century, men-
tions, amongst the habits of the primitive Christians,
their assembling at stated times " to sing among
themselves alternately a hymn to Christ, as to
God." Such a practice, however, constitutes no
peculiarity of the new worship, hymns of praise
to their deities having made a portion of the rites
of most religions. Indeed, in the more severe
times of the Early Church there are prohibitions
against this form of worship, as against several
other practices to which we have alluded, on the
express ground of its resemblance to one of the
customs of the pagan celebration.
The custom of celebrating the festivities of the
season by the singing of carols in these islands,
appears to have mingled with the Christmas observ-
ances from the earliest period. We have speci-
mens of the carols themselves of a remote date, and
have already given an extract from one, the man-
uscript of which, in the British Museum, is dated
as far back as the thirteenth century. There are
evidences of the universality of the practice in the
fifteenth century ; and the great popularity of these
songs about this time is proved by the fact of a
collection thereof having been printed in the early
2O2 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
part of the following century by Wynkyn de Worde.
It is to the Puritans that we appear to have been
indebted for the introduction of the religious carol.
Those enemies of all mirth, even in its most
innocent or valuable forms, finding the practice of
carol-singing at this festive time too general and
rooted to be dealt with by interdiction, appear to
have endeavored to effect their objects by directing
it into a channel of their own, and probably re-
taining the ancient airs, to have adapted them to
the strange religious ballads, of which we must give
our readers a few specimens. The entire version
of the Psalms of David made by Sternhold and
Hopkins was published about the middle of the
sixteenth century ; and some time before the mid-
dle of the seventeenth a duodecimo volume ap-
peared, under the title of "Psalmes or Songs
of Zion, turned into the language and set to the
tunes of a strange land, by W. S. [William Slatyr],
intended for Christmas Carols and fitted to di-
vers of the most noted and common but solemne
tunes everywhere in this land familiarly used and
knowne."
Of these old ballads of both kinds, many (and
snatches of more) have survived to the present day,
and may be heard, particularly in the Northern
counties of England, ringing through the frosty air
of the long winter nights, in the shrill voices of
children, for several weeks before Christmas, prob-
ably, too, to the old traditional tunes. They are,
SIGNS OF THE SEASON. 203
however, as might be expected of compositions
which have no more substantial depositary than the
memories of the humble classes of the young, full
of corruptions, which render some of them nearly
unintelligible. The difficulty of restoring these old
carols in their original forms is becoming yearly
greater, in consequence of the modern carols, which
are fast replacing them by a sort of authority. In
country places many of the more polished carols,
of modern composition, find their way into the
Church services of this season ; and amongst the
singers who practise this manner of appealing to
the charities of the season with most success are
the children of the Sunday-schools and the chor-
isters of the village church. These, with their often
sweet voices, bring to our doors the more select
hymns and the musical training which they have
gathered for more sacred places ; and from a
group like that which stands at the parsonage door
in our plate, we are more likely to hear some carol
of Heber's, some such beautiful anthem as that
beginning, " Hark ! the herald angels sing," than
the strange, rambling old Christmas songs which
we well remember when we were boys. These
latter, however, occasionally are not without a wild
beauty of their own. We quote a fragment of one
of them from memory. We think it begins :
" The moon shines bright, and the stars give light,
A little before the day ; "
204 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
and wanders on somewhat after the following un-
connected fashion :
" Awake, awake, good people all !
Awake, and you shall hear
How Christ our Lord died on the cross
For those he loved so dear.
" O fair, O fair Jerusalem !
When shall I come to thee ?
When shall my griefs be at an end,
That 1 thy tents may see !
" The fields were green as green could be
When, from his glorious seat.
The Lord our God he watered us
With his heavenly good and sweet.
" And for the saving of our souls
Christ died upon the cross !
We never shall do for Jesus Christ
What he has done for us !
" The life of man is but a span,
And cut down in its flower ;
We 're here to-day, and gone to-morrow,
We 're all dead in an hour.
" Oh, teach well your children, men I
The while that you are here,
It will be better for your souls,
When your corpse lies on the bier.
" To-day you may be alive, dear man,
With many a thousand pound;
To-morrow you may be a dead man,
And your corpse laid under ground,
SIGNS OF THE SEASON. 205
" With a turf at your head, dear man,
And another at your feet.
Your good deeds and your bad ones
They will together meet.
" My song is done, and I must begone,
I can stay no longer here ;
God bless you all, both great and small,
And send you a happy new year."
Our Lancashire readers know that a similar wish
to that expressed in the two last lines is generally
delivered in recitative at the close of each carol, or
before the singers abandon our doors, which wish,
however, we have heard finally changed into a less
quotable ejaculation in cases where the carolists
had been allowed to sing unregarded.
The gradual decay into which these ancient
religious ballads are rapidly falling was in some
measure repaired by Mr. Davies Gilbert in 1823,
who published a collection containing upwards of
twenty carols in a restored state, with the tunes to
which it was usual to sing them in the West of Eng-
land. Of Welsh carols various collections are
mentioned both by Hone and by Sandys, and in
that country the practice is in better preservation
than even in England. In Ireland, too, it exists to
the present day, although we have not met with
any collection of Irish carols ; and in France, where
there are numerous collections under the title of
noels, the custom is universal. In Scotland, how-
ever, it was extinguished, with the other Christmas
206 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
practices, by the thunders of John Knox and his
precisians, and we believe has never been in any
degree restored. We should add that there are
numerous carols for the Christmas season scat-
tered through the writings of our old poets, amongst
whom Herrick may be mentioned as conspicuous.
But the most ample and curious published col-
lection of Christmas carols with which we have
met is that by Mr. Sandys to which we have so
often alluded ; and from the text of this collec-
tion we will give our readers one or two specimens
of the quaint beauties which occasionally mingle
in the curious texture of these old anthems. Mr.
Sandys's collection is divided into two parts, the
first of which consists of ancient carols and Christ-
mas songs from the early part of the fifteenth to the
end of the seventeenth century. We wish that in
cases where the authorship belongs to so conspicu-
ous a name as Herrick, and indeed in all cases
where it is ascertained, the names of the authors
had been prefixed. The second part comprises a
selection from carols which the editor states to be
still used in the West of England. We can inform
him that many of these we have ourselves heard,
only some dozen years ago, screamed through the
sharp evening air of Lancashire at the top pitch of
voices that could clearly never have been given for
any such purposes, " making night hideous," or
occasionally filling the calm watches with the far-
lulling sounds of wild, sweet harmony. The prac-
SIGNS OF THE SEASON. 207
tice, however, is, under any circumstances, full of
fine meanings that redeem the rudeness of per-
formance ; and for ourselves, we like the music at
its best and worst.
Of the festive songs we have already given
occasional examples in the progress of this work,
and shall just now confine ourselves to extracts
from those of a more religious character. From
the old part of the collections before us we will
give a verse of a short carol which, while it will ex-
hibit in a very modified degree the familiar tone
in which the writers of these ancient songs dealt
with the incidents of the sacred story, is full of a
tenderness arising out of that very manner of treat-
ment. We give it in the literal form in which
we find it in this collection, with the exception of
extending an occasional cypher. It begins with a
burden :
" A, my dere son, sayd mary, a, my dere,
Kys thi moder, Jhesu, with a lawghyng chere ; ''
and continues :
" This endnes nyght I sawe a syght
all in my slepe,
Mary that may she sang lullay
and sore did wepe.
To kepe she sawght full fast a bowte
her son fro cold ;
Joseph seyd, wiff, my joy, my leff,
say what ye wolde ;
208 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
No thyng my spouse is In this howse
unto my pay ;
My son a kyng that made all thyng
lyth in hay.
" A, my dere son."
Some of these ancient carols run over the princi-
pal incidents in the scheme of man's fall and
redemption ; and we are sorry that our limits will
not permit us to give such lengthened specimens
as we should desire. We will, however, copy a
few verses from one of a different kind, in which,
beneath its ancient dress, our readers will see that
there is much rude beauty. It begins :
" I come from heuin to tell
The best nowellis that ever be fell."
But we must take it up further on :
" My saull and lyfe, stand up and see
Quha lyes in ane cribe of tree ;
Quhat babe is that so gude and faire ?
It is Christ, God's Sonne and Aire.
O God, that made all creature,
How art thou becum so pure,
That on the hay and straw will lye,
Amang the asses, oxin, and kye ?
And were the world ten tymes so wide,
Cled ouer with gold and stanes of pride,
Unworthy zit it were to thee,
Under thy feet ane stule to bee.
SIGNS OF THE SEASON. 209
" The sylke and sandell, thee to eis,
Are hay and sempill swelling clais,
Quhairin thow gloiris, greitest king,
As thow in heuin were in thy ring.
" O my deir hert, zoung Jesus sweit,
Prepare thy creddill in my spreit,
And I sail rock thee in my hert,
And neuer mair from thee depart."
The Star-song in this collection is, if our memory
mislead us not, Herrick's, and taken from his
" Noble Numbers." It begins :
" Tell us, thou cleere and heavenly tongue,
Where is the babe but lately sprung ?
Lies he the lillie-banks among ?
" Or say if this new Birth of our's
Sleep, laid within some ark of flowers,
Spangled with deaw-light ; thou canst cleere
All doubts, and manifest the where.
" Declare to us, bright star, if we shall seek
Him in the morning's blushing cheek,
Or search the beds of spices through,
To find him out?"
The second part of Sanclys's collection contains
an imperfect version of a carol of which we find a
full and corrected copy in Mr. Hone's " Ancient
Mysteries," formed by that author's collation of
various copies printed in different places. The
beautiful verses which we quote are from Hone's
version, and are wanting in that of Sandys. The
14
2IO THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
ballad begins by elevating the Virgin Mary to a
temporal rank which must rest upon that particular
authority, and is probably a new fact for our readers :
" Joseph was an old man,
And an old man was he,
And he married Mary,
Queen of Galilee,"
which, for a carpenter, was certainly a distinguished
alliance. It goes on to describe Joseph and his
bride walking in a garden,
" Where the cherries they grew
Upon every tree ; "
and upon Joseph's refusal, in somewhat rude lan-
guage, to pull some of these cherries for Mary, on
the ground of her supposed misconduct,
" Oh ! then bespoke Jesus,
All in his mother's womb,
' Go to the tree, Mary,
And it shall bow down ;
" ' Go to the tree, Mary,
And it shall bow to thee,
And the highest branch of all
Shall bow down to Mary's knee.' "
And then, after describing Joseph's conviction and
penitence at this testimony to Mary's truth, occur
the beautiful verses to which we alluded :
" As Joseph was a walking,
He heard an angel sing :
' This night shall be born
Our heavenly king.
SIGNS OF THE SEASON. 211
" ' He neither shall be born
In housen nor in hall,
Nor in the place of Paradise,
But in an ox's stall.
" ' He neither shall be clothed
In purple nor in pall,
But all in fair linen,
As were babies all.
" ' He neither shall be rock'd
In silver nor in gold,
But in a wooden cradle,
That rocks on the mould.
" ' He neither shall be christen'd
In white wine nor in red,
But with the spring water
With which we were christened.' "
The strange, wild ballad beginning,
" I saw three ships come sailing in,
On Christmas day, on Christmas day;
I saw three ships come sailing in,
On Christmas day in the morning,"
and the still stranger one of " The Holy Well," we
would have copied at length, as examples of these
curious relics, if we could have spared the space.
Of the latter, however, we will give our readers
some account, to show the singular liberties which
were taken with sacred personages and things in
these old carols. In the one in question, the boy
Jesus, having asked his mother's permission to go
212 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
and play, receives it, accompanied with the salutary
injunction,
" And let me hear of no complaint
At night when you come home.
" Sweet Jesus went down to yonder town,
As far as the Holy Well,
And there did see as fine children
As any tongue can tell."
On preferring, however, his petition to these
children,
" Little children, shall I play with you,
And you shall play with me?"
he is refused on the ground of his having been
" born in an ox's stall," they being " lords' and
ladies' sons."
" Sweet Jesus turned him around,
And he neither laugh'd nor smil'd,
But the tears came trickling from his eye
Like water from the skies."
Whereupon he returns home to report his griev-
ance to his mother, who answers,
" Though you are but a maiden's child,
Born in an ox's stall,
Thou art the Christ, the King of Heaven,
And the Saviour of them all ; "
and then proceeds to give him advice neither
consistent with the assertion in the last line, nor
becoming her character :
SIGNS OF THE SEASON. 213
" Sweet Jesus, go down to yonder town,
As far as the Holy Well,
And take away those sinful souls,
And dip them deep in hell.
" Nay, nay, sweet Jesus said,
Nay, nay, that may not be ;
For there are too many sinful souls
Crying out for the help of me."
Both these latter carols are given by Sandys as
amongst those which are still popular in the West
of England ; and we remember to have ourselves
heard them both many and many a time in its
Northern counties.
We must give a single verse of one of the ancient
French provincial noels, for the purpose of intro-
ducing our readers to a strange species of chanted
burden ; and then we must stop. It is directed
to be sung sur un chant joyeux, and begins thus :
" Quand Dieu naquit a Noel,
Dedans la Judee,
On vit ce jour solemnel
La joie inondee ;
II n'etoit ni petit ni grand
Qui n'apportat son present
Et n'o, n'o, n'o, n'o,
Et n'offrit, frit, frit,
Et n'o, n'o, et n'offrit,
Et n'offrit sans cesse Toute sa richesse."
Our readers are no doubt aware that the carol-
sheets still make their annual appearance at this
season, not only in the metropolis, but also in
214 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
Manchester, Birmingham, and perhaps other towns.
In London they pass into the hands of hawkers,
who wander about our streets and suburbs enforcing
the sale thereof by in addition to the irresistible
attraction of the wood-cuts with which they are
embellished the further recommendation of their
own versions and variations of the original tunes,
yelled out in tones which could not be heard with-
out alarm by any animals throughout the entire
range of Nature, except the domesticated ones,
who are " broken " to it. For ourselves, we confess
that we are not thoroughly broken yet, and expe-
rience very uneasy sensations at the approach of
one of these alarming choirs.
" 'T is said that the lion will turn and flee
From a maid in the pride of her purity."
We would rather meet him under the protection
of a group of London carol-singers. We would
undertake to explore the entire of central Africa,
well provisioned and in such company, without the
slightest apprehension, excepting such as was sug-
gested by the music itself.
By these gentry a very spirited competition is
kept up in the article of annoyance with the
hurdy-gurdies, and other instruments of that class,
which awaken the echoes of all our streets, and
furnish a sufficient refutation of the assertion that
we are not a musical nation. We have heard it
said that the atmosphere of London is highly im-
LONDON CAROL SINGERS. Page 215.
SIGNS OF THE SEASON. 215
pregnated with coal-smoke and barrel-organs. The
breath of ballad-singers should enter into the ac-
count at this season. The sketch from life which
we have given of one of these groups will convey
to our readers a very lively notion of the carol-
singers of London, and supply them with a hint
as to the condition in this flourishing metropolis of
that branch of the fine arts. Our friends will
perceive that this is a family of artists, from the
oldest to the youngest. The children are born to
an inheritance of song, and begin to enter upon
its enjoyment in the cradle. That infant in arms
made his debut before the public a day or two after
he was born, and is already an accomplished chor-
ister ; and the hopeful boy who is howling by his
mother's side acquits himself as becomes the heir-
at-law to parents who have sung through the world,
and the next in reversion to his father's fiddle.
A very curious part of the business, however, is,
that these people actually expect to get money for
what they are doing ! With the most perfect good
faith, they really calculate upon making a profit by
their outrages upon men's feelings ! It is for the
purpose of " putting bread into their mouths " that
those mouths are opened in that portentous manner.
For ourselves, we have a strong conviction that the
spread of the emigration mania has been greatly
promoted by the increase of ballad-singers in the
land. We have frequently resolved to emigrate,
on that account, ourselves ; and if we could be
2l6 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
perfectly certified of any desirable colony, to which
no removals had taken place from the class in
question, we believe we should no longer hesitate.
The existence of that class is a grievous public
wrong, and calls loudly for legislation. We have
frequently thought that playing a hurdy-gurdy in the
streets should be treated as a capital crime.
Of the annual sheets and of such other carols
as may be recoverable from traditional or other
sources, it is to be regretted that more copious
collections are not made, by the lovers of old cus-
toms, ere it be too late. Brand speaks of an hered-
itary collection of ballads, almost as numerous as
the Pepysian collection at Cambridge, which he
saw, at Newcastle-upon-Tyne, in the printing-office
of the late Mr. Saint, amongst which were several
carols for the Christmas season. Hone, in his
"Ancient Mysteries," gives a list of eighty-nine
carols in his possession, all in present use (though
likely soon to become obsolete), and exclusive of
the modern compositions printed by religious so-
cieties, under the denomination of carols. He
furnishes a curious proof of the attachment which
the carol-buyers extend, from the old carols them-
selves, to the old rude cuts by which they are
illustrated. "Some of these," he says, "on a sheet
of Christmas carols, in 1820, were so rude in ex-
ecution that I requested the publisher, Mr. T.
Batchelar, of 115, Long Alley, Moorfields, to sell
rne the original blocks. I was a little surprised by
SIGNS OF THE SEASON. 217
his telling me that he was afraid it would be im-
possible to get any of the same kind cut again.
When I proffered to get much better engraved, and
give them to him in exchange for his old ones, he
said, ' Yes, but better are not so good ; I can get
better myself. Now these are old favorites, and
better cuts will not please my customers so well.' "
We have before us several of the sheets for the
present season, issued from the printing-office and
toy warehouse of Mr. Pitts, in the Seven Dials ;
and we grieve to say that, for the most part, they
show a lamentable improvement in the embellish-
ments, and an equally lamentable falling- off in the
literary contents. One of these sheets, however,
which bears the heading title of " Divine Mirth,"
contains some of the old carols, and is adorned with
impressions from cuts, rude enough, we should think,
to please even the customers of Mr. Batchelar.
Amongst the musical signs of the season we must
not omit to place that once important gentleman,
the bellman, who was anciently accustomed, as our
excellent friend Mr. Hone says, at this time, " to
make frequent nocturnal rambles, and proclaim all
tidings which it seemed fitting to him that people
should be awakened out of their sleep to hearken
to." From that ancient collection, " The Bell-
man's Treasury," which was once this now decayed
officer's vade-mecum, we shall have occasion to
extract, here and there, in their proper places, the
announcements by which, of old, he broke in upon
2l8 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
the stillness of the several nights of this period. In
the mean time our readers may take the following
example of bellman verses, written by Herrick, and
which we have extracted from his " Hesperides : "
" From noise of scare-fires rest ye free,
From murders Benedicitie ;
From all mischances that may fright
Your pleasing slumbers in the night.
" Mercie secure ye all, and keep
The goblin from ye while ye sleep.
Past one aclock, and almost two.
My masters all, good day to you ! "
The bell of this ancient officer may still be heard,
at the midnight hour of Christmas Eve (and per-
haps on other nights), in the different parishes of
London, performing the overture to a species of
recitative, in which he sets forth (amongst other
things) the virtues of his patrons (dwelling on their
liberality), and offers them all the good wishes of
the season. The printed papers containing the
matter of these recitations he has been busy circu-
lating amongst the parishioners for some time ; and,
on the strength thereof, presents himself as a candi-
date for some expression of their good-will in re-
turn, which, however, he expects should be given
in a more profitable form. These papers, like the
carol-sheets, have their margins adorned with wood-
cuts after Scriptural subjects. One of them now
lies before us, and we grieve to say that the quaint
ancient rhymes are therein substituted by meagre
SIGNS OF THE SEASON.
219
modern inventions, and the wood-cuts exhibit a
most ambitious pretension to be considered as
specimens of improved art. There is a copy of
Carlo Dolce's " Last Supper " at the foot.
The beadle of to-day is in most respects
changed, for the worse, from the bellman of old.
Still, we are glad to hear his bell which sounds
much as it must have done of yore lifting up its
ancient voice amongst its fellows at this high and
general season of bells and bob-majors.
BELL-RINGING.
fart &ecotttu
THE CHRISTMAS DAYS.
The High, and Mig;li1y Prince, Henry Prmce of Purpoole.
Archduke of SlapuliaandI}ernardia,DTike of Hign and.
Nether Holborn. Marquis of S fc Giles and Tottenham. .Co act.
faJatme of BloomsluryandClerkeuwell^eatLordof the
Cantons of Islington. Kejjtish'JWn PaddingtonX:Bijj>it3"bndge
Gesta Grayorum.
THE CHRISTMAS DAYS.
HAVING given our readers an historical and gen-
eral account of this ancient festival, and a particular
explanation of some of the principal tokens which,
in modern times as of old, bespeak the coming of
its more high and ceremonious days, we must now
proceed to furnish them with a more peculiar de-
scription of those individual days themselves ; con-
fining ourselves, as nearly as completeness of view
will admit, within the limits which bound what is,
in its most especial and emphatic sense, the Christ-
mas season. In order, however, to attain this com-
pleteness of view, it has been necessary to allow
ourselves certain points lying on both sides, without
those strict boundaries ; and the selection which we
have made includes the two conditions of giving us
latitude enough for our purpose, and keeping rea-
sonably close to the heart of the subject at the
same time. The reasons for this particular selec-
tion will more fully appear in the accounts which
we have to give of the individual days on which
224
THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
that selection has fallen, and in the further remarks
which we have to make, generally on that portion
of the year which we place under the presidency
of
OUR LORD OF MISRULE.
CHRISTMAS PRESENTS.
ST. THOMAS'S DAY.
2 IST DECEMBER.
THIS day, which is dedicated to the apostle St.
Thomas, we have chosen as the opening of the
Christmas festivities ; because it is that on which
we first seem to get positive evidence of the pres-
ence of the old gentleman, and see the spirit of
hospitality and benevolence which his coming
creates brought into active operation. Of the
manner in which this spirit exhibits itself in the
metropolis, we are about presently to speak ; but
must previously notice that in many of the rural
districts of England there are still lingering traces
of ancient customs, which meet at this particular
point of time and under the sanction of that same
spirit. These practices, however various in their
kinds, are for the most part relics in different
shapes of the old mummeries, which we shall have
to discuss at length in the course of the present
chapter; and are but so many distinct forms in
which the poor man's appeal is made to the rich
man's charity, for a share in the good things of
this merry festival.
is
226 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
Amongst these ancient customs may be men-
tioned the practice of " going a gooding," which
exists in some parts of Kent, and is performed by
women, who present sprigs of evergreens and
Christmas flowers, and beg for money in return.
We believe the term " going a gooding " scarcely
requires illustration. It means, simply, going about
to wish "good even," as, according to Nares,
fully appears from this passage in Romeo and
Juliet :
" Nurse. God ye good morrow, gentlemen.
Mercutio. God ye good den, fair gentlewoman. "
In this same county, St. Thomas's Day is like-
wise known by the name of " Doleing Day," on ac-
count of the distribution of the bounty of different
charitable individuals. This word " dole " is ex-
plained by Nares to mean " a share or lot in any
thing distributed," and to come from the verb to
deal. He quotes Shakspeare for this also :
" It was your presurmise
That in the dole of blows your son might drop."
The musical procession known in the Isle of
Thanet and other parts of the same county by the
name of " hodening " (supposed by some, to be
an ancient relic of a festival ordained to commem-
orate the landing of our Saxon ancestors in that
island, and which, in its form, is neither more nor
less than a modification of the old practice of the
ST. THOMAS'S DAY. 227
" hobby horse "), is to this day another of the cus-
toms of this particular period.
A custom analogous to these is still to be traced
in Warwickshire ; throughout which county it seems
to have been the practice of the poor to go from
door to door of every house " with a bag to beg
corn of the farmers, which they call going a corn-
ing." And in Herefordshire a similar custom ex-
ists, where this day is called " Mumping Day,"
that is, begging day.
To the same spirit we owe the Hagmena or
Hogmanay practice, still in use in Scotland, as well
as that of the Wren Boys in Ireland, both of which
will be described hereafter, although their observ-
ance belongs to later days of the season, and
probably many others which will variously suggest
themselves to our various readers as existing in
their several neighborhoods.
In the great metropolis of England, where
poverty and wretchedness exist in masses upon
which private benevolence cannot efficiently act,
and where imposture assumes their forms in a
degree that baffles the charity of individuals, the
bequests of our ancestors have been to a great ex-
tent placed for distribution in the hands of the
various parish authorities. St. Thomas's Day in
London therefore is connected with these chari-
ties, by its being that on which some of the most
important parochial proceedings take place ; and
amongst these are the wardmotes, held on this day
228 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
for the election, by the freemen inhabitant house-
holders, of the members of the Common Council,
and other officers of the respective city wards.
The civil government of the City of London is
said to bear a general resemblance to the legisla-
tive power of the empire ; the Lord Mayor exer-
cising the functions of monarchy, the Aldermen
those of the peerage, and the Common Council
those of the legislature. The principal difference
is, that the Lord Mayor himself has no negative.
The laws for the internal regulation of the city are
wholly framed by these officers acting in common
council. A Common-Councilman is, therefore, a
personage of no mean importance.
Loving Christmas and its ceremonies with anti-
quarian veneration, we must profess likewise our
profound respect for wards of such high sounding
names as Dowgate, and Candlewick, and Cripple-
gate, and Vintry, and Portsoken ; the last of which,
be it spoken with due courtesy, has always re-
minded us of an alderman's nose ; and for such
distinguished callings as those of Cordwainers, and
Lorimers, and Feltmakers, and Fishmongers, and
Plasterers, and Vintners, and Barbers ; each of
whom we behold in perspective transformed into
what Theodore Hook calls "a splendid annual,"
cr in less figurative language, Lord Mayor of Lon-
don ! There is a pantomimic magic in the word
since the memorable days of Whittington. But to
our theme.
ST. THOMAS S DAY. 229
Pepys, the gossipping secretary of the Admiralty,
records in his curious diary his having gone on
St. Thomas's Day (2ist December), 1663, "to
Shoe Lane to see a cocke-fighting at the new pit
there, a spot," he adds, " I was never at in my
life : but, Lord ! to see the strange variety of peo-
ple, from parliament-man (by name Wildes, that
was deputy governor of the Tower when Robinson
was Lord Mayor) to the poorest 'prentices, bakers,
brewers, butchers, draymen, and what not ; and all
these fellows one with another cursing and betting.
I soon had enough of it. It is strange to see how
people of this poor rank, that look as if they had
not bread to put into their mouths, shall bet three
or four pounds at a time and lose it, and yet as
much the next battle, so that one of them will lose
10 or 20 at a meeting."
Now the cock-fighting of our times, under the
immediate patronage of Saint Thomas, and those
of Pepys's differ little except in the character of
the combatants. In his (comparatively speaking)
barbarous days, it was sufficient to pit two birds, one
against the other, to excite the public or amuse the
spectators. But a purer taste prevails among the
present citizens of London ; for our modern " fight-
ing-cocks," as the candidates for civic honors are
called, seem on this day to be fully occupied with
the morning exhibition of their own foul tongues,
and bets often run as high as parties, on these
occasions.
230 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
"Saint Thomas's birds" another name for
these civic fighting-cocks have been trained in
various ale-house associations, such as the "Ancient
and honorable Lumber Troop," the venerable " So-
ciety of Codgers," "the free and easy Johns," the
"Councillors under the Cauliflower," and other
well-known clubs, where politics, foreign and do-
mestic, night after night are discussed, and mingle
with the smoke of tobacco, inhaled through re-
spectable clay pipes and washed down with nips
of amber ale, or quarts of fro thy- headed porter.
Indeed the qualification for admission into the
Lumber Troop is, we have been told, the power of
consuming a quart of porter at a draught, without
once pausing to draw a breath, which feat must be
performed before that august assembly. We once
visited the head-quarters of this porter- quaffing
troop, and found the house, with some difficulty,
near Gough Square, which lies in that intricate
region between Holborn Hill and Fleet Street. It
was a corner house, and an inscription upon the
wall, in letters of gold, informed the passer-by that
this was the place of meeting of the Lumber Troop.
The room in which they met is small, dark, and
ancient in appearance, with an old-fashioned chim-
ney-piece in the centre, and a dais or raised floor
at one end, where, we presume, the officers of the
troop take their seats. Above their heads, upon a
shelf, some small brass cannon were placed as orna-
ments, and the walls of the room were decorated
ST. THOMAS'S DAY. 231
with the portraits of distinguished troopers,
among whom Mr. Alderman Wood, in a scarlet
robe, and Mr. Richard Taylor were pointed out to
our notice. Over the fire-place hung the portrait
of an old gentleman, in the warlike costume of
Cromwell's time, who was, probably,
" Some Fleet Street Hampden."
The obscurity which conceals the origin of many
interesting and important institutions hangs over
the early history of the Lumber Troop. Tradition
asserts that, when Henry VIII. went to the siege of
Boulogne, he drained the country of all its soldiers ;
and the citizens of London who remained behind,
inspired with martial ardor, formed themselves into
a troop, for the protection of old England. In the
grotesque and gouty appearance of these troopers,
their name of the Lumber Troop is said to have
originated. Their field days, as may be expected,
were exhibitions of merriment ; and their guards
and midnight watches scenes of feasting and revelry.
The " Lumber-pye " was formerly a dish in much
repute, being composed of high-seasoned meats
and savory ingredients, for the preparation of
which receipts may be found in the old cookery
books. Recently, it has been corrupted into Lom-
bard Pie, on account, as is said, of its Italian origin,
but we profess allegiance to the more ancient
name.
232 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
Let those who hold lightly the dignity of a Lum-
ber Trooper, and who perhaps have smiled at the
details here given, inquire of the representatives
of the city of London in the parliament of England,
their opinion of the matter. We have been assured
that these jolly troopers influence every city election
to such an extent that, without an understanding
with these worthies, no candidate can have a chance
of success. In the same way, the codgers, in Cod-
ger's Hall, Bride Lane (said to have been insti-
tuted in 1756, by some of the people of the Inner
Temple, who imagined their free thoughts and pro-
found cogitations worthy of attention, and charged
half-a-crown for the entree), and other ale-house
clubs, exert their more limited power. Hone, in
his Every-Day Book, observes that " these societies
are under currents that set in strong, and often
turn the tide of an election in favor of some 'good
fellow,' who is good nowhere but in ' sot's-hole.' "
And he adds, commenting upon St. Thomas's Day,
" Now the ' gentlemen of the inquest,' chosen ' at
the church ' in the morning, dine together, as the
first important duty of their office ; and the re-elected
ward-beadles are busy with the fresh chosen con-
stables ; and the watchmen [this was before the
days of the police] are particularly civil to every
' drunken gentleman ' who happens to look like one
of the new authorities. And now the bellman, who
revives the history and poetry of his predecessors,
will vociferate
ST. THOMAS'S DAY. 233
" ' My masters all, this is St. Thomas'-day,
And Christmas now can 't be far off, you '11 say.
And when you to the Ward-motes do repair,
I hope such good men will be chosen there,
As constables for the ensuing year,
As will not grudge the watchmen good strong beer.' "
The illustration of this part of our subject which
our artist has given, exhibits the scene of one of
these parish elections ; and includes, in the distance,
a vision of those good things to which all business
matters in England and above all, in its eastern
metropolitan city are but prefaces.
We may observe, here, that St. Thomas's Day is
commonly called the shortest of the year, although
the difference between its length and that of the
twenty-second is not perceptible. The hours of
the sun's rising and setting, on each of those days,
are marked as the same in our calendars, and
the latter is sometimes spoken of as the shortest
day.
As the days which intervene between this and
the Eve of Christmas are distinguished by no spe-
cial ceremonial of their own, and as the numerous
observances attached to several of the particular
days which follow will sufficiently prolong those
parts of our subject, we will take this opportunity
of alluding to some of the sports and festivities
not peculiar to any one day, but extending more
or less generally over the entire season.
234 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
Burton in his " Anatomy of Melancholy " men-
tions, as the winter amusements of his day, " Gardes,
tables and dice, shovelboard, chesse-play, the phi-
losopher's game, small trunkes, shuttlecocke, bill-
iards, musicke, masks, singing, dancing, ule-games,
frolicks, jests, riddles, catches, purposes, questions
and commands, merry tales of errant knights,
queenes, lovers, lords, ladies, giants, dwarfes,
theeves, cheaters, witches, fayries, goblins, fri-
ers," &c. Amongst the list of Christmas sports, we
elsewhere find mention of "jugglers, and jack-
puddings, scrambling for nuts and apples, dancing
the hobby-horse, hunting owls and squirrels, the
fool-plough, hot-cockles, a stick moving on a pivot
with an apple at one end and a candle at the other,
so that he who missed his bite burned his nose,
blindman's buff, forfeits, interludes and mock
plays : " also of " thread my needle, Nan," " he
can do little that can't do this," feed the dove,
hunt the slipper, shoeing the wild mare, post and
pair, snap-dragon, the gathering of omens, and a
great variety of others. In this long enumeration,
our readers will recognize many which have come
down to the present day, and form still the amuse-
ment of their winter evenings at the Christmas-tide,
or on the merry night of Halloween. For an ac-
count of many of those which are no longer to be
found in the list of holiday games, we must refer
such of our readers as it may interest to Brand's
"Popular Antiquities," and Strutt's "English
ST. THOMAS S DAY. 235
Sports." A description of them would be out of
place in this volume ; and we have mentioned
them only as confirming a remark which we have
elsewhere made ; viz., that in addition to such
recreations as arise out of the season or belong
to it in a special sense, whatever other games or
amusements have at any time been of popular use,
have generally inserted themselves into this length-
ened and joyous festival ; and that all the forms
in which mirth or happiness habitually sought ex-
pression congregated from all quarters at the ring-
ing of the Christmas bells.
To the Tregetours, or jugglers, who anciently
made mirth at the Christmas fireside, there are
several allusions in Chaucer's tales ; and Aubrey,
in reference thereto, mentions some of the tricks
by which they contributed to the entertainments
of the season. The exhibitions of such gentry in
modern times are generally of a more public kind,
and it is rarely that they find their way to our fire-
sides. But we have still the galantee-showman
wandering up and down our streets and squares,
with his musical prelude and tempting anounce-
ment sounding through the sharp evening air, and
summoned into our warm rooms to display the
shadowy marvels of his mysterious box to the young
group, who gaze in great wonder and some awe from
their inspiring places by the cheerful hearth.
Not that our firesides are altogether without
domestic fortune-tellers or amateur practitioners in
236 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
the art of sleight-of-hand. But the prophecies of
the former are drawn from, and the feats of the
other performed with the cards. Indeed we must
not omit to particularize cards as furnishing in all
their uses one of the great resources at this season
of long evenings and in-door amusements, as they .
appear also to have formed an express feature of
the Christmas entertainments of all ranks of people
in old times. We are told that the squire of three
hundred a-year in Queen Anne's time "never
played at cards but at Christmas, when the family
pack was produced from the mantel-piece ; " and
Stevenson, an old writer of Charles the Second's
time, in an enumeration of the preparations making
for the mirth of the season, tells us that " the coun-
try-maid leaves half her market and must be sent
again, if she forgets a pack of cards on Christmas
Eve." And who of us all has not shared in the
uproarious mirth which young and unclouded spirits
find, amid the intrigues and speculations of a round
game ! To the over-scrupulous on religious grounds,
who, looking upon cards as the " devil's books," and
to the moral alarmist who, considering card- playing
to be in itself gaming, would each object to this
species of recreation for the young and innocent,
it may be interesting to know that the practice has
been defended by that bishop of bishops, Jeremy
Taylor himself, and that he insists upon no argu-
ment against the innocence of a practice being in-
ferred from its abuse.
ST. THOMAS'S DAY. 237
We have before alluded to the bards and harpers
who assembled in ancient days at this time of was-
sail, making the old halls to echo to the voice of
music, and stirring the blood with the legends of
chivalry or chilling it with the wizard tale. And
the tale and the song are amongst the spirits that
wait on Christmas still, and charm the long winter
evenings with their yet undiminished spells. Many
a Christmas evening has flown over our heads on
the wings of music, sweeter, far sweeter, dearer, a
thousand times dearer, than ever was played by
wandering minstrel or uttered by stipendiary bard ;
and we have formed a portion of happy groups,
when some thrilling story has sent a chain of sym-
pathetic feeling through hearts that shall beat in
unison no more, and tales of the grave and its
tenants have sent a paleness into cheeks that the
grave itself hath since made paler still.
The winter hearth is the very land of gossip-
red. There it is that superstition loves to tell her
marvels, and curiosity to gather them. The gloom
and desolation without, with the wild, unearthly
voice of the blast, as it sweeps over a waste of
snows and cuts sharp against the leafless branches,
or the wan sepulchral light that shows the dreary
earth as it were covered with a pall, and the trees
like spectres rising from beneath it, alike send
men huddling round the blazing fire, and awaken
those impressions of the wild and shadowy and
unsubstantial, to which tales of marvel or of terror
238 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
are such welcome food. But other inspirations are
born of the blaze itself; and the jest and the laugh
and the merry narration are of the spirits that are
raised within the magic circles that surround it.
' They should have drawn thee by the high heap't hearth,
Old Winter ! seated in thy great armed-chair,
Watching the children at their Christmas mirth ;
Or circled by them, as thy lips declare
Some merry jest, or tale of murder dire,
Or troubled spirit that disturbs the night ;
Pausing at times to move the languid fire,
Or taste the old October, brown and bright."
The song and the story, the recitation and the
book read aloud are, in town and in village, man-
sion and farmhouse, amongst the universal resources
of the winter nights now, as they or their equiva-
lents have at all times been. The narratives of " old
adventures, and valiaunces of noble knights, in
times past," the stories of Sir Bevys of Southamp-
ton and Sir Guy of Warwick, of Adam Bell,
Clymme of the Clough, and William of Cloudesley,
with other ancient romances or historical rhymes,
which formed the recreation of the common people
at their Christmas dinners and bride-ales long ago,
may have made way for the wild legend of the sea,
or fearful anecdote
" Of horrid apparition, tall and ghastly,
That walks at dead of night, or takes its stand
O'er some new opened grave, and, strange to tell,
Evanishes at crowing of the cock ; "
ST. THOMASS DAY. 239
and for the more touching ballads which sing of the
late repentance of the cruel Barbara Allan,
" O mither, mither, inak my bed,
mak it saft and narrow;
Since my love died for me to-day,
1 '11 die for him to morrow ; "
or how the
" Pretty babes, with hand in hand,
Went wandering up and down;
But never more could see the man
Returning from the town ; "
or how " there came a ghost to Margaret's door,"
and chilled the life-blood in her veins, by his awful
announcement,
" My bones are buried in a kirk-yard,
Afar beyond the sea ;
And it is but my sprite, Marg'ret,
That 's speaking now to thee ; "
or may have been replaced, in higher quarters, by
the improved narrative literature of the present day,
and the traditions or memories which haunt all
homes. But the spirit of the entertainment itself
is still the same, varied only by circumstances in its
forms.
It is apparently by a group of the latter kind
that this branch of the Christmas amusements is
illustrated in the plate. The youthful members of
a family are listening, in all probability, to some
tale of their sires, related by the withered crone,
who, grown old in that service, links those young
240 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
beings with a generation gone by, and stands, as
it were, prophesying " betwixt the living and the
dead." If we may judge from the aspect of the
aged sybil herself, and the pale and earnest faces
that surround her, the narrative which she is impart-
ing is one of the fearful class, and not to be listened
to beyond the cheering inspirations of that bright
fire ; although the moving shadows which it flings
upon the old walls are amongst the terrors which are
born of her story. For the scene of these emo-
tions, the artist has chosen, as artists still love to do,
the chamber of an ancient mansion, with its huge
chimney and oriel-window. And it may be that
for picturesque effects which are to address them-
selves to the eye, artists are right in so doing. No
doubt, the high chronicles of chivalry, and the
mysterious traditions of the past, comport well with
the gloom of the gothic gallery ; and, certainly,
the long rambling passages of an old house afford
at once room for the wandering of ghosts, and that
dim, shadowy light by which imagination sees them
best. But the true poetry of life is not confined
to ancient dwellings ; and every house, in every
crowded thoroughfare of every city, has its own
tales to tell around the Christmas fire. The most
pert-looking dwelling of them all, that may seem
as if it were forever staring out of its sash win-
dows into the street, has its own mysteries,
and is, if it have been tenanted sufficiently long,
as closely haunted by recollections as the baron's
ST. THOMAS 3 DAY. 241
castle, or the squire's old manor-house. Like
them,
" Its stones have voices, and its walls do live ;.
It is the house of memory ! "
Within its neat parlors and light saloons, the lyre
of human passions has been struck on all its chords.
Birth and death, marriage and separation, joy and
grief, in all their familiar forms, have knocked at its
painted door, and crossed its narrow threshold ;
and the hearts within have their own traditions of
the past, and their own reckonings to take, and
their own anecdotes to revise, and their own ghosts
to bring back, amid the commemorations of this
festal time.
And whatever may be said for the ancient
ghost stories, which are fast losing ground fitting
it is that, amid the mirth ot this pleasant time, such
thoughts should be occasionally stirred, and those
phantoms of the heart brought back. Not that the
joy of the young and hopeful should be thereby
darkened, but that they may be duly warned that
" youth 's a stuff will not endure," and taught in
time the tenure upon which hope is held. That
was a beautiful custom of the Jews which led them,
when they built houses, to leave ever some part
unfinished, as a memento of the ruin and desolation
of their city. Not that they, therefore, built the
less, or the less cheerfully ; but that in the very midst
of their amplest accommodations they preserved a
16
242 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
perpetual and salutary reference to the evil of their
condition, a useful check upon their worldly
thoughts. And thus should mirth be welcomed and
hopes built up, wherever the materials present
themselves ; but a mark should, notwithstanding, be
placed upon the brightest of them all, remem-
brances ever let in, which may recall to us the
imperfect condition of our nature here, and speak
of the certain decay which must attend all hopes
erected for mere earthly dwellings.
But thou shouldst speak of this, thou for whom
the following lines were written long ago, though
they have not yet met thine eye, thou who hast
learnt this lesson more sternly than even I, and
speakest so well of all things ! Many a " Winter's
Tale" have we two read together (Shakspeare's
among the rest and how often!), and many a
written lay has linked our thoughts in a sympathy
of sentiment, on many an evening of Christmas.
It may be that on some night of that which is ap
preaching, these lines may meet thy notice, and
through them, one more winter's eve may yet be
spent by thee and me, in a communion of thought
and feeling. No fear that joy should carry it all,
with us ! No danger that the ghosts of the past
should fail to mingle with our Christmas feelings,
in that hour ! There can be no future hope built
up for thee or me, or for most others who have
passed the first season of youth, to which some-
thing shall not be wanting ; which shall not, like
ST. THOMAS'S DAY. 243
the houses of the Jews, be left imperfect in some
part ; and for the same reason, even for the mem-
ories of the ruined past !
Farewell ! I do not bid thee weep ;
The hoarded love of many years,
The visions hearts like thine must keep,
May not be told by tears !
No ! tears are but the spirit's showers,
To wash its lighter clouds away,
In breasts where sun-bows, like the flowers,
Are born of rain and ray ;
But gone from thine is all the glow
That helped to form life's promise-bow !
Farewell ! I know that never more
Thy spirit, like the bird of day,
Upon its own sweet song shall soar
Along a sunny way !
The hour that wakes the waterfall
To music, in its far-off flight,
And hears the silver fountains call,
Like angels through the night,
Shall bring thee songs whose tones are sighs
From harps whose chords are memories !
Night ! when, like perfumes that have slept,
All day, within the wild-flower's heart,
Steal out the thoughts the soul has kept
In silence and apart ;
And voices we have pined to hear,
Through many a long and lonely day,
Come back upon the dreaming ear,
From grave-lands, far away ;
And gleams look forth, of spirit-eyes,
Like stars along the darkening skies !
244 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
When fancy and the lark are still
Those riders of the morning gale !
And walks the moon o'er vale and bill
With memory and the nightingale ;
The moon that is the daylight's ghost
(As memory is the ghost of hope),
And holds a lamp to all things lost
Beneath night's solemn cope,
Pale as the light by memory led
Along the cities of the dead !
Alas, for thee ! alas for thine !
Thy youth that is no longer young !
Whose heart, like Delphi's ruined shrine,
Gives oracles oh ! still divine !
But never more in song !
Whose breast, like Echo's haunted hall,
Is filled with murmurs of the past,
Ere yet its " gold was dim," and all
Its " pleasant things " laid waste !
From whose sweet windows never more
Shall look the sunny soul of yore !
Farewell ! I do not bid thee weep,
The smile and tear are past for thee ;
The river of thy thoughts must keep
Its solemn course, too still and deep
For idle eyes to see !
Oh ! earthly things are all too far
To throw their shadows o'er its stream !
But, now and then, a silver star,
And, now and then, a gleam
Of glory from the skies be given.
To light its waves with dreams of heaven !
To the out-door sports of this merry time which
arise out of the natural phenomena of the season
itself, we need do no more than allude here, because
ST. THOMAS'S DAY. 245
every school-boy knows far more about them than
we are now able to tell him, though we too reckoned
them all amidst the delights of our boyhood. The
rapid motions and graceful manoeuvres of the skil-
ful amongst the skaters, the active games connected
with this exercise (such as the Golf of our northern
neighbors, not very commonly practised in England),
the merry accidents of the sliders, and the loud and
mischievous laugh of the joyous groups of snow-
bailers, are all amongst the picturesque features
by which the Christmas time is commonly marked
in these islands. To be sure, the kind of seasons
seems altogether to have abandoned us in which
the ice furnished a field for those diversions during
a period of six weeks ; and the days are gone when
fairs were held on the broad Thames, and books
were printed and medals struck on the very pathway
of his fierce and daily tides. Even now as we write
however, in this present year of grace, old Winter
stands without the door in something like the garb
in which as boys we loved him best, and that old
aspect of which we have such pleasant memories,
and which Cowper has so well described :
" O Winter ! ruler of the inverted year !
Thy scattered hair with sleet-like ashes filled;
Thy breath congealed upon thy lips ; thy cheeks
Fringed with a beard made white with other snows
Than those of age ; thy forehead wrapt in clouds ;
A leafless branch thy sceptre ; and thy throne
A sliding car indebted to no wheels,
But urged by storms along thy slippery way ! "
246 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
In looking over a description of London we
have met with a quotation of a passage from Fitz-
Stephen, an old historian of that city, in which he
gives a quaint description of these familiar sports,
as they were practised in King Henry the Second's
day on the large pond or marsh which then occupied
the site of what is now Moorfields. The passage is
short and we will quote it.
" When that vast lake," he says, " which waters
the walls of the city towards the north is hard
frozen, the youth in great numbers go and divert
themselves on the ice. Some, taking a small run for
increment of velocity, place their feet at a proper
distance and are carried sliding sideways a great
way. Others will make a large cake of ice, and
seating one of their companions upon it, they take
hold of one another's hands and draw him along ;
when it happens that, moving so swiftly on so slip-
pery a place, they all fall headlong. Others there
are who are still more expert in these amuse-
ments on the ice ; they place certain bones, the leg
bones of animals, under the soles of their feet by
tying them round their ankles, and then, taking a
pole shod with iron into their hands, they push
themselves forward by striking it against the ice,
and are carried on with a velocity equal to the flight
of a bird or a bolt discharged from a cross-bow."
But amongst all the amusements which in cities
contribute to make the Christmas time a period of
enchantments for the young and happy, there is
ST. THOMAS S DAY. 247
another, which must not be passed over without a
word of special notice ; and that one is the theatre,
a world of enchantment in itself. We verily
believe that no man ever forgets the night on
which as a boy he first witnessed the representation
of a play. All sights and sounds that reached his
senses before the withdrawing of the mysterious
curtain, all things which preceded his introduction
to that land of marvels which lies beyond, are min-
gled inextricably with the memories of that night,
and haunt him through many an after year. The
very smell of the lamps and orange-peel, the dis-
cordant cries, the ringing of the prompter's bell,
and above all the heavy dark green curtain itself,
become essential parts of the charm in which his
spirit is long after held. It was so with ourselves ;
and though many a year is gone by since that
happy hour of our lives, and most of the spells
which were then cast have been long since broken,
yet we felt another taken from us when at Drury
Lane an attempt was made to substitute a rich
curtain of crimson and gold for the plain dark fall
of green. And then the overture ! the enchanting
prelude to all the wonders that await us ! the un-
earthly music leading us into fairy land ! the incan-
tation at whose voice, apparently, the mysterious
veil on which our eyes have been so long and so
earnestly rivetted rises, as if by its own act, and
reveals to us the mysteries of an enchanted world !
From that moment all things that lie on this side
248 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
the charmed boundary are lost sight of, and all the
wonders that are going on beyond it are looked
on with the most undoubting faith. It is not for a
moment suspected that the actors therein are beings
of natures like ourselves, nor is there any ques-
tioning but that we are gazing upon scenes and
doings separated from the realities of life. Verily
do we believe that never again in this life are so
many new and bewildering and bewitching feelings
awakened in his breast, as on the first night in
which the boy is spectator of a theatrical perform-
ance, if he be old enough to enjoy and not quite old
enough clearly to understand what is going on.
At this holiday period of the year the boxes of
our theatres are filled with the happy faces, and
their walls ring with the sweet laughter of children.
All things are matters of amazement and subjects
of exclamation. But in London above all things,
far, far beyond all other things (though it does
not begin for some days later than this) is the pan-
tomime with its gorgeous scenery and incompre-
hensible transformations and ineffable fun. " Ready
to leap out of the box," says Leigh Hunt, " they
joy in the mischief of the clown, laugh at the
thwacks he gets for his meddling, and feel no small
portion of contempt for his ignorance in not know-
ing that hot water will scald, and gunpowder ex-
plode ; while with head aside to give fresh energy
to the strokes, they ring their little palms against
each other in testimony of exuberant delight."
ST. THOMAS S DAY. 249
The winter pantomimes are introduced on the
evening next after Christmas night ; and some ac-
count of this entertainment seems, as a feature of
the season, due to our Christmas readers.
From Italy, then, we appear to have derived our
pantomime. the legitimate drama of Christmas,
and to pagan times and deities the origin of our
pantomimical characters may be directly referred.
The nimble harlequin of our stage is the Mercury
of the ancients, and in his magic wand and charmed
cap may be recognized that god's caduceus and
petasus. Our columbine is Psyche, our clown Momus,
and our pantaloon is conjectured to be the modern
representative of Charon, variously habited indeed,
according to Venetian fancy and feelings. Even
Punch, the friend of our childhood, the great-headed,
long-nosed, hump-backed " Mister Ponch," it seems,
was known to the Romans, under the name of
Maccus.
Our pantomime, however, is an inferior translation,
rather than a good copy, from its Italian original.
The rich humor, the ready wit, the exquisite raciness
of the Italian performance have all evaporated, and
with us are burlesqued by the vapid joke, the stale
trick, and acts of low buffoonery. We read of the
pantomimic actors, Constantini and Cecchini, being
ennobled ; of Louis XIII. patronizing the merits of
Nicholas Barbieri, and raising him to fortune ; that
Tiberio Fiurilli, the inventor of the character of
Scaramouch, was the early companion of Louis XIV.,
250 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
and that the wit of the harlequin Dominic made
him a favored guest at the same monarch's table.
These instances of distinction are alone sufficient
proof of the superior refinement of the actors of
Italian pantomime, above our vulgar tribe of tum-
blers. The Italian artists were fellows " of infinite
jest," whose ready wit enabled them to support ex-
tempore dialogue, suiting " the action to the word,
and the word to the action ; " for the Arlequino of
Italy was not a mute like his English representa-
tive. Many of the Italian harlequins were authors of
considerable reputation ; Ruzzante, who flourished
about 1530, may be regarded as the Shakspeare of
pantomime. " Till his time," says DTsraeli, " they
had servilely copied the duped fathers, the wild sons,
and the tricking valets of Plautus and Terence ; and
perhaps, not being writers of sufficient skill but of
some invention, were satisfied to sketch the plots of
dramas, boldly trusting to extempore acting and
dialogue. Ruzzante peopled the Italian stage with
a fresh,, enlivening crowd of pantomimic characters.
The insipid dotards of the ancient comedy were
transformed into the Venetian Pantaloon, and the
Bolognese Doctor; while the hare-brained fellow,
the arch knave, and the booby, were furnished from
Milan, Bergamo, and Calabria. He gave his newly
created beings new language and a new dress.
From Plautus, he appears to have taken the hint of
introducing all the Italian dialects into one comedy,
by making each character use his own, - and even
ST. THOMASS DAY. 251
the modern Greek, which, it seems, afforded many
an unexpected play on words for the Italian. This
new kind of pleasure, like the language of Babel,
charmed the national ear ; every province would
have its dialect introduced on the scene, which
often served the purpose both of recreation and a
little innocent malice. Their masks and dresses
were furnished by the grotesque masqueraders of
the Carnival, which, doubtless, often contributed
many scenes and humors to the quick and fanciful
genius of Ruzzante."
To the interesting essay, by the author of the
"Curiosities of Literature," from whence this ex-
tract is derived, we beg leave to refer the reader
for an anecdotical history of pantomime. Mr.
DTsraeli in conclusion observes, that " in gesticula-
tion and humor our Rich appears to have been a
complete mime ; his genius was entirely confined
to pantomime, and he had the glory of introducing
Harlequin on the English stage, which he played
under the feigned name of Lun. He could describe
to the audience by his signs and gestures, as intelli-
gibly as others could express by words. There is a
large caricature print of the triumph which Rich had
obtained over the severe muses of tragedy and
comedy, which lasted too long not to excite jealousy
and opposition from the corps dramatique.
" Garrick, who once introduced a speaking Har-
lequin, has celebrated the silent but powerful lan-
guage of Rich :
252 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
' When LUN appeared, with matchless art and whim,
He gave the power of speech to every limb,
Tho' mask'd and mute, convey'd his quick intent,
And told in frolic gestures what he meant ;
But now the motley coat and sword of wood
Require a tongue to make them understood ! ' "
Foote, it was, we think, who attempted to get a
standing for a Harlequin with a wooden leg upon
the English stage ; and though he was supported by
a clown upon crutches, these and other efforts to
effect a witty reform in the mechanism of an Eng-
lish pantomime proved unsuccessful. " Why is
this burlesque race here," inquires Mr. D'Israeli,
" privileged to cost so much, to do so little, and
repeat that little so often?" In 1827, according to
a statement which we believe to be tolerably cor-
rect, the " getting up," as it is termed, of the pan-
tomimes produced on the 26th of December, in
London, cost at
Covent Garden ^1,000
Drury Lane 1,000
Surrey 500
Adelphi 200
Olympic 150
Sadler's Wells 100
West London 100
Making the total of .... .3,050
and in other years, we believe the cost has been
considerably more ; and yet this enormous expendi-
ture left no impression on the popular memory,
ST. THOMASS DAY. 253
mere stage-trick being far below the exhibition of a
juggler. True it is, that clever artists have been
for many years employed to design and paint the
scenery of the pantomimes, and consequently ad-
mirable pictures have been exhibited, especially at
the national theatres, where this feature, indeed,
constitutes the main attraction of the evening's
performance. The stupid tragedy of " George Barn-
well," produced for the sake of the city apprentices,
was formerly the usual prelude to the Christmas
pantomime on the night of St. Stephen's Day.
Hone, in his " Every-Day Book," has chronicled
that " the representation of this tragedy was omitted
in the Christmas holidays of 1819, at both theatres,
for the first time." To be sure, this dull affair
answered the purpose as well as any other, it being
an established rule with the tenants of the theatrical
Olympus that nothing shall be heard save their
own thunders, previously to the pantomime on
St. Stephen's night. The most famous pantomime
which has been played in our times is unquestiona-
bly Mother Goose. When it was produced, or to
whom the authorship is ascribed, we know not ; but
in 1808 it was revived and played at the Haymarket,
with an additional scene representing the burning
of Covent Garden Theatre. The pantomimes of
the last thirty years have failed to effect a total
eclipse of the brilliancy of " Harlequin and Mother
Goose, or the Golden Egg ; " which found its way
into the list of provincial stock-pieces.
254 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
Connected with this golden age of English pan-
tomime, the recollection of Grimaldi, Joey Grimaldi,
as the gallery folk delighted to call him, is an ob-
vious association. His acting like that of Liston
must have been seen to be understood or appreci-
ated ; for no description can convey an adequate
idea of the power of expression and gesture. They
who have not seen Joey may never hope to look
upon his like ; and they who have seen him must
never expect to see his like again. On the Eng-
lish stage never was clown like Grimaldi ! He was
far more than a clown, he was a great comic actor.
But his constitution soon gave way under the trials
to which it was exposed. In the depth of winter,
after performing at Sadler's Wells, he was brought
down night after night wrapped in blankets to Cov-
ent Garden ; and there had, for the second time in
the course of the same evening, to go through the
allotted series of grimaces, leaps, and tumbles.
Poor Grimaldi, sunk by these exertions into a prem-
ature old age, was finally obliged to retire from
the stage on the 27th of June, 1828 ; and the Liter-
ary Gazette thus pleasantly, but feelingly, announced
his intention :
; ' Our immense favorite, Grimaldi, under the
severe pressure of years and. infirmities, is enabled
through the good feeling and prompt liberality of
Mr. Price, to take a benefit at Drury Lane on
Friday next ; the last of Joseph Grimaldi ! Drury 's,
Covent Garden's, Sadler's, everybody's Joe ! The
ST. THOMASS DAY. 255
friend of Harlequin and Farley-kin ! the town
clown ! greatest of fools ! daintiest of motleys ! the
true ami des enfans ! The tricks and changes of
life, sadder, alas ! than those of pantomime, have
made a dismal difference between the former flap-
ping, filching, laughing, bounding antic and the
present Grimaldi. He has no spring in his foot,
no mirth in his eye ! The corners of his mouth
droop mournfully earthward ; and he stoops in the
back, like the weariest of Time's porters ! L' Allegro
has done with him, and II Penseroso claims him for
its own ! It is said, besides, that his pockets are
neither so large nor so well stuffed as they used to
be on the stage : and it is hard to suppose fun with-
out funds, or broad grins in narrow circumstances."
The mummers, who still go about at this season
of the year in some parts of England, are the last
descendants of those maskers, who in former times,
as we have shown at length, contributed to the
celebrations of the season, at once amongst the
highest and lowest classes of the land; as their
performances present, also, the last semblances of
those ancient Mysteries and Moralities, by which
the splendid pageants of the court were preceded.
Sir Walter Scott, in a note to " Marmion," seems to
intimate that these mummeries are, in fact, the off-
spring and relics of the old Mysteries themselves.
The fact, however, seems rather to be, that these
exhibitions existed before the introduction of the
Scripture plays ; and that the one and the other
256 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS-
are separate forms of a practice copied directly
from the festival observances of the pagans. Ac-
cordingly, Brand speaks of a species of mumming
which " consists in changing clothes between men
and women who, when dressed in each other's
habits go from one neighbor's house to another,
partaking of Christmas cheer and making merry
with them in disguise ; " and which practice he
traces directly to the Roman Sigillaria. In various
parts of the Continent also, as in France and Ger-
many, certain forms of mumming long existed,
which appear to have been originally borrowed
from the rites of idolatry : and the Scottish Guisars,
or Guisarts, if the very ingenious explanation of
their hogmanay cry given by Mr. Repp (and for
which we refer our readers to vol. iv., part I, of the
Archasologia Scotica) be correct, connect them-
selves with the superstitions of the northern nations.
Amongst the forms of ancient mumming which
have come down to the present or recent times,
we may observe that the hobby-horse formed as
late as the seventeenth century a prominent char-
acter, and that something of this kind seems still
to exist. Dr. Plot in his " History of Stafford-
shire " mentions a performance called the " Hobby-
horse Dance," as having taken place at Abbot's
Bromley during the Christmas season, within the
memory of man ; and we have already shown that
a modification of the same practice continues to
the present day, or did to within a few years back,
ST. THOMAS'S DAY. 257
in the Isle of Thanet. This dance is described by
Dr. Plot as being composed of " a person who car-
ried the image of a horse between his legs, made
of thin boards, and in his hand a bow and arrow.
The latter, passing through a hole in the bow and
stopping on a shoulder, made a snapping noise
when drawn to and fro, keeping time with the
music. With this man danced six others, carrying
on their shoulders as many reindeer heads with
the arms of the chief families to whom the reve-
nues of the town belonged. They danced the heys,
and other country dances. To the above Hobby-
horse there belonged a pot, which was kept by turns
by the reeves of the town, who provided cakes and
ale to put into this pot, all people who had any
kindness for the good intent of the institution of
the sport, giving pence a-piece for themselves and
families. Foreigners also that came to see it con-
tributed ; and the money, after defraying the ex-
pense of the cakes and ale, went to repair the
church and support the poor." A reason given by
some as the origin of this practice, we have already
stated in our mention of " hodening ; " and our
readers will see that its object, like that of the
other similar observances of this season, was
charity.
In some parts of the north of England, a custom
exists to the present time which appears to be com-
posed of the ancient Roman sword-dance, or, per-
haps, the sword-dance of the northern nations, and
258 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
lingering traces of the obsolete " Festival of Fools."
This practice, which is called the " Fool Plough,"
consists in a pageant composed of " a number of
sword-dancers dragging a plough, with music, and
one, sometimes two, in very strange attire ; the
Bessy in the grotesque habit of an old woman, and
the fool almost covered with skins, a hairy cap on,
and the tail of some animal hanging from his back.
The office of one of these characters, in which he is
very assiduous, is to go about rattling a box amongst
the spectators of the dance, in which he receives
their little donations." Our readers will probably
remember that a set of these mummers are introduced
by Washington Irving, in his account of a Christmas
spent in Yorkshire.
The old Christmas play of " Saint George and the
Dragon " is still amongst the most popular amuse-
ments of this season, in many parts of England.
Whether this particular kind of performance is to
be considered as dating from the return of the Cru-
saders, or that similar representations had existed
previously, the characters of which alone were
changed by that event, does not appear from any
other remains that have reached us. There is
evidence, however, that plays founded upon the
legend of Saint George are of a very remote date ;
and, in all probability, they were introduced not
long after the age of the Crusades. From various
contributors to Mr. Hone's " Every-Day Book," we
learn that versions of these plays are still per-
ST. THOMAS'S DAY. 259
formed amongst the lower orders at the Christmas
tide, in the extreme western counties of England, as
also in Cumberland, and some others of the more
northern ones ; and one of those correspondents,
dating from Falkirk, gives an account of a play still
performed by the Guisars, in some parts of Scotland,
which is of similar construction and evidently bor-
rowed from the same source, but in which one Gal-
gacus is substituted for Saint George, as the hero of
the piece ; and the drama is made by that substitu-
tion to commemorate the successful battle of the
Grampians, by the Scots under that leader, against
the invader, Agricola. If Mr. Reddock be right in
this opinion, Agricola is for the nonce elevated to
the title of king of Macedon. The party who carries
the bag for these mummers is a very questionable
trustee, being no other than Judas Iscariot. Sir
Walter Scott, in his notes to " Marmion," speaks of
the same play as one in which he and his compan-
ions were in the habit of taking parts, when boys ;
and mentions the characters of the old Scripture-
plays having got mixed up with it in the version
familiar to him. He enumerates Saint Peter, who
carried the keys ; Saint Paul, who was armed with a
sword ; and Judas, who had the bag for contribu-
tions ; and says that he believes there was also a
Saint George. It is not unlikely there might, though
he is not mentioned by Mr. Reddock, for the con-
fusion of characters in all these versions is very
great. In the Whitehaven edition, Saint George is
260 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
son to the king of Egypt, and the hero who carries
all before him is Alexander. He conquers Saint
George and kills the king of Egypt. In fact the
legend, as it exists in the old romance of " Sir Bevys
of Hampton," has everywhere been mixed up with
extraneous matter, and scarcely any two sets of per-
formers render it alike. The plot seems, in all, to
be pretty nearly the same ; and the doctor, with his
marvellous cures and empirical gibberish, seems to
be common to them all. " But so little," says
Sandys, " do the actors know the history of their
own drama, that sometimes General Wolfe is intro-
duced, who first fights Saint George, and then sings
a song about his own death. I have also seen the
Duke of Wellington represented." Mr. Reddock
mentions, that during the war with France one of
the characters in his version "was made to say that
he had been ' fighting the French,' and that the loon
who took leg-bail was no less a personage than " the
great Napoleon. Mr. Sandys mentions that occa-
sionally there is a sort of anti-masque, or burlesque
(if the burlesque itself can be burlesqued) at the
end of the performance ; when some comic charac-
ters enter, called Hub Bub, Old Squire, etc., and the
piece concludes with a dance. At other times, the
performances are wound up by a song.
We may mention that we have in our possession
an Irish version of the same play, as it is still played
by the boys in that country ; in which version, as
might be expected, the championship is given to
ST. THOMAS'S DAY. 261
Saint Patrick, who asserts that Saint George was
nothing more than "Saint Patrick's boy," and fed
his horses. Another of the characters in this edition
of the story is Oliver Cromwell, who, after certain
grandiloquent boastings (amongst others, that he
had " conquered many nations with his copper
nose "), calls upon no less personage than Beelzebub
to step in and confirm his assertions.
The costume and accoutrements of these mum-
mers (of whom we have given a representation at
page 65) appear to be pretty generally of the same
kind, and, for the most part, to resemble those of
morris-dancers. They are thus correctly described
by Mr. Sandys. Saint George and the other tragic
performers wear "white trousers and waistcoats,
showing their shirt-sleeves, and are much decorated
with ribbons and handkerchiefs, each carrying a
drawn sword in his hand, if they can be procured,
otherwise a cudgel. They wear high caps of paste-
board covered with fancy paper, adorned with beads,
small pieces of looking-glass, bugles, etc., several
long strips of pith generally hanging down from the
top, with shreds of different colored cloth strung on
them, the whole having a fanciful and smart effect.
The Turk sometimes has a turban. Father Christ-
mas is personified as a grotesque old man, wearing
a large mask and wig, with a huge club in his hand.
The doctor, who is sort of merry-andrew to the
piece, is dressed in some ridiculous way, with a
three-cornered hat and painted face. The female
262 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
when there is one, is in the costume of her great-
grandmother. The hobby-horse, when introduced,
has a sort of representation of a horse's hide ; but
the dragon and the giant, when there is one, fre-
quently appear with the same style of dress as the
knights."
We will present our readers with the version of
this old drama given by Mr. Sandys, as still per-
formed in Cornwall. Elsewhere, we have met with
some slight variations upon even this Cornwall piece,
but will be content to print it as we find it in
the collection in question. Our Lancashire readers
will at once recognize its close resemblance to the
play performed in that county, about the time of
Easter, by the Peace-eggers, or Paste-eggers, of
whom we shall speak, in their proper place, in a
future volume.
Enter the Turkish Knight.
Open your doors and let me in,
I hope your favors I shall win ;
Whether I rise or whether I fall
I '11 do my best to please you all.
Saint George is here, and swears he will come in,
And if he does, I know he '11 pierce my skin.
If you will not believe what I do say,
Let Father Christmas come in, clear the way!
{Retires.
Enter Father Christmas.
Here come I, old Father Christmas,
Welcome, or welcome not,
I hope old Father Christmas
Will never be forgot.
ST. THOMAS'S DAY. 263
I am not come here to laugh or to jeer,
But for a pocketful of money and a skinful of beer.
If you will not believe what I do say,
Come in the King of Egypt, clear the way !
Enter the King of Egypt.
Here I, the King of Egypt, boldly do appear,
Saint George ! Saint George ! walk in, my only son and heir.
Walk in, my son, Saint George ! and boldly act thy part,
That all the people here may see thy wond'rous art.
Enter Saint George.
Here come I, Saint George, from Britain did I spring,
I '11 fight the Dragon bold, my wonders to begin,
I '11 clip his wings, he shall not fly ;
I'll cut him down, or else I die.
Enter the Dragon.
Who 's he that seeks the Dragon's blood,
And calls so angry, and so loud ?
That English dog, will he before me stand ?
I '11 cut him down with my courageous hand.
With my long teeth and scurvy jaw,
Of such I 'd break up half a score,
And stay my stomach, till I 'd more.
\Saint George and the Dragon fight, the latter is killed.
Father Christmas.
Is there a doctor to be found
All ready, near at hand,
To cure a deep and deadly wound,
And make the champion stand ?
Enter Doctor.
Oh ! yes, there is a doctor to be found
All ready, near at hand,
To cure a deep and deadly wound,
And make the champion stand.
264 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
fa. Chris. What can you cure ?
Doctor. All sorts of diseases,
Whatever you pleases,
The phthisic, the palsy, and the gout ;
If the devil 's in, I'll blow him out.
Fa. Chris. What is your fee ?
Doctor. Fifteen pound, it is my fee,
The money to lay down ;
But, as 't is such a rogue as thee,
I cure for ten pound.
I carry a little bottle of alicumpane,
Here Jack, take a little of my flip flop,
Pour it down thy tip top,
Rise up and fight again.
[The Doctor performs his cure, the fight is
renewed, and the Dragon again killed.
Saint George.
Here am I, Saint George,
That worthy champion bold !
And with my sword and spear
I won three crowns of gold !
I fought the fiery dragon,
And brought him to the slaughter;
By that I won fair Sabra,
The King of Egypt's daughter.
Where is the man, that now me will defy ?
I '11 cut his giblets full of holes, and make his buttons fly.
The Turkish Knight advances.
Here come I, the Turkish knight,
Come from the Turkish land to fight !
I '11 fight Saint George, who is my foe,
I '11 make him yield, before I go ;
He brags to such a high degree,
He thinks there 's none can do the like of he.
ST. THOMAS'S DAY. 265
Saint George.
Where is the Turk, that will before me stand ?
I'll cut him down with my courageous hand.
[ They fight, the Knight is overcome, and
falls on one knee.
Turkish Knight.
Oh ! pardon me, Saint George! pardon of thee I crave,
Oh ! pardon me, this night, and I will be thy slave.
Saint George.
No pardon shalt thou have, while I have foot to stand.
So rise thee up again, and fight out sword in hand.
[ They fight again, and the Knight is killed ; Father
Christmas calls for the Doctor, -with whom the
same dialogue occurs as before, and the cure is
performed.
Enter the Giant Turpin.
Here come I, the Giant ! bold Turpin is my name,
And all the nations round do tremble at my fame.
Where'er I go, they tremble at my sight,
No lord or champion long with me would fight.
Saint George,
Here 's, one that dares to look thee in the face,
And soon will send thee to another place.
[ They fight, and the Giant is killed ; medical aid is
called in, as before, and the cure performed by
the Doctor, -who then, according to the stage
direction, is given a basin of girdy grout, and
a kick, and driven out.
Father Christmas.
Now, ladies and gentlemen, your sport is most ended.
So prepare for the hat, which is highly commended.
266 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
The hat it would speak, if it had but a tongue.
Come throw in your money, and think it no wrong.
And these, with the dance filling up the intervals
and enlivening the winter nights, are amongst the
sports and amusements which extend themselves
over the Christmas season and connect together its
more special and characteristic observances.
G A LAX TEE SHOW.
CHRISTMAS EVE.
24TH DECEMBER.
" Some say, that ever 'gainst that season comes
Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated,
This bird of dawning singeth all night long :
And then, they say, no spirit dares stir abroad ;
The nights are wholesome , then no planets strike,
No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm,
So hallow'd and so gracious is the time."
HAMLET.
THE progress of the Christmas celebrations has at
length brought us up to the immediate threshold
of that high day in honor of which they are all
instituted ; and amid the crowd of festivities by
which it is on all sides surrounded, the Christian
heart makes a pause to-night. Not that the Eve
of Christmas is marked by an entire abstinence
from that spirit of festival by which the rest of
this season is distinguished, nor that the joyous
character of the event on whose immediate verge
it stands requires that it should. No part of that
season is more generally dedicated to the assem-
bling of friends than are the great day itself and
the eve which ushers it in. Still, however, the
268 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
feelings of rejoicing which properly belong to the
blessed occasion are chastened by the immediate
presence of the occasion itself; and touching tra-
ditions and beautiful superstitions have given an
air of solemnity to the night, beneath whose influ-
ence the spirit of commemoration assumes a religious
character, and takes a softened tone.
Before however, touching upon the customs and
ceremonies of the night, or upon those natural
superstitions which have hung themselves around
its sacred watches, we must take a glimpse at an
out-of-door scene which forms a curious enough
feature of Christmas Eve, and is rather connected
with the great festival of to-morrow than with the
hushed and expectant feelings which are the fitting
moral condition of to-night.
Everywhere throughout the British isles Christ-
mas Eve is marked by an increased activity about
the good things of this life. " Now,' says Steven-
son, an old writer whom we have already quoted
for the customs of Charles the Second's time. " ca-
pons and hens, besides turkeys, geese, ducks, with
beef and mutton, must all die ; for in twelve days
a multitude of people will not be fed with a little ; "
and the preparations in this respect of this present
period of grace, are made much after the ancient
prescription of Stevenson. The abundant displays
of every kind of edible in the London markets on
Christmas Eve, with a view to the twelve days' fes-
tival of which it is the overture, the blaze of lights
CHRISTMAS EVE. 269
amid which they are exhibited and the evergreen
decorations by which they are embowered, together
with the crowds of idlers or of purchasers that
wander through these well-stored magazines, pre-
sent a picture of abundance and a congress of faces
well worthy of a single visit from the stranger, to
whom a London market on the eve of Christmas
is as yet a novelty.
The approach of Christmas Eve in the metrop-
olis is marked by the Smithfield show of over-fed
cattle : by the enormous beasts and birds, for the
fattening of which medals and cups and prizes
have been awarded by committees of amateur
graziers and feeders ; in honor of which monstros-
ities, dinners have been eaten, toasts drunk, and
speeches made. These prodigious specimens of
corpulency we behold, after being thus glorified,
led like victims of antiquity decked with ribbons
and other tokens of triumph, or perhaps instead of
led, we should, as the animals are scarcely able to
waddle, have used the word goaded, to be immo-
lated at the altar of gluttony in celebration of
Christmas ! To admiring crowds, on the eve itself,
are the results of oil-cake and turnip-feeding
displayed in the various butcher's shops of the me-
tropolis and its vicinity ; and the efficacy of walnut-
cramming is illustrated in Leadenhall market, where
Norfolk turkeys and Dorking fowls appear in num-
bers and magnitude unrivalled. The average weight
given for each turkey, by the statement heretofore
270 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
quoted by us of the number and gravity of those
birds sent up to London from Norfolk during two
days of a Christmas some years ago, is nearly
twelve pounds ; but what is called a fine bird in
Leadenhall Market weighs, when trussed, from
eighteen to one or two-and-twenty pounds, the
average price of which may be stated at twenty
shillings ; and prize turkeys have been known to
weigh more than a quarter of a hundred weight.
Brawn is another dish of this season, and is sold
by the poulterers, fishmongers, and pastry-cooks.
The supply for the consumption of London is chiefly
derived from Canterbury, Oxfordshire, and Hamp-
shire. " It is manufactured from the flesh of large
boars, which are suffered to live in a half-wild state,
and, when put up to fatten, are strapped and belted
tight round the principal parts of the carcass, in
order to make the flesh become dense and brawny.
This article comes to market in rolls about two
feet long and ten inches in diameter, packed in
wicker baskets."
Sandys observes that " Brawn is a dish of great
antiquity, and may be found in most of the old bills
of fare for coronation and other great feasts."
" Brawn, mustard, and malmsey were directed for
breakfast at Christmas, during Queen Elizabeth's
reign ; and Dugdale, in his account of the Inner
Temple Revels, of the same age, states the same
directions for that society. The French," continues
Sandys, " do not appear to have been so well ac-
CHRISTMAS EVE. 271
quainted with it ; for, on the capture of Calais by
them, they found a large quantity, which they
guessed to be some dainty, and tried every means
of preparing it ; in vain did they roast it, bake it,
and boil it ; it was impracticable and impenetrable
to their culinary arts. Its merits, however, being
at length discovered, ' Ha ! ' said the monks, ' what
delightful fish ! ' and immediately added it to
their fast-day viands. The Jews, again, could not
believe it was procured from that impure beast.
the hog, and included it in their list of clean
animals."
Amid the interior forms to be observed, on this
evening, by those who would keep their Christmas
after the old orthodox fashion, the first to be
noticed is that of the Yule Clog. This huge block,
which, in ancient times, and consistently with the
capacity of its vast receptacle, was frequently the
root of a large tree, it was the practice to intro-
duce into the house with great ceremony, and to
the sound of music. Herrick's direction is :
" Come, bring with a noise
My merrie, merrie boys,
The Christmas log to the firing ;
While my good dame she
Bids you all be free,
And drink to your heart's desiring."
In Drake's " Winter Nights " mention is made
of the Yule Clog, as lying, " in ponderous majesty,
on the kitchen floor," until " each had sung his
272 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
Yule song, standing on its centre," - ere it was
consigned to the flames that
" Went roaring up the chimney wide."
This Yule Clog, according to Herrick, was to be
lighted with the brand of the last year's log, which
had been carefully laid aside for the purpose, and
music was to be played during the ceremony of
lighting :
" With the last yeere's brand
Light the new block, and
For good successe in his spending,
On your psaltries play,
That sweet luck may
Come while the log is a teending."
This log appears to have been considered as
sanctifying the roof-tree, and was probably deemed
a protection against those evil spirits over whom
this season was in every way a triumph. Accord-
ingly, various superstitions mingled with the pre-
scribed ceremonials in respect of it. From the
authority already quoted on this subject, we learn
that its virtues were not to be extracted, unless
it were lighted with clean hands a direction,
probably, including both a useful household hint to
the domestics, and, it may be, a moral of a higher
kind :
" Wash your hands or else the fire
Will not tend to your desire ;
Unwash'd hands, ye maidens, know,
Dead the fire though ye blow."
CHRISTMAS EVE. 273
Around this fire, when duly lighted, the hospitali-
ties of the evening were dispensed ; and as the
flames played about it and above it, with a pleasant
song of their own, the song and the tale and the jest
went cheerily round. In different districts, different
omens attached themselves to circumstances con-
nected with this observance, but generally it was
deemed an evil one if the log went out during the
night or, we suppose, during the symposium. The
extinguished brand was, of course, to be preserved,
to furnish its ministry to the ceremonial of the
ensuing year.
The Yule Clog is still lighted up, on Christmas
Eve, in various parts of England, and particularly
in the north. In some places, where a block of
sufficient dimensions is not readily come by, it is
usual to lay aside a large coal for the purpose,
which, if not quite orthodox, is an exceedingly
good succedaneum, and a very rich source of cheer-
ful inspirations.
Another feature of this evening, in the houses of
the more wealthy, was the tall Christmas candles,
with their wreaths of evergreens, which were lighted
up, along with the Yule log, and placed on the
upper table, or dais, of ancient days. Those of
our readers who desire to light the Christmas
candles, this year, may place them on the sideboard,
or in any other conspicuous situation. Brand, how-
ever, considers the Yule log and the Christmas
candle to be but one observance, and that the
18
274 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
former is only a substitute for the latter. By our
ancestors, of the Latin church, Christmas was for-
merly called the "Feast of Lights," arid numbers of
lights were displayed on the occasion. The lights
and the title were both typical of the religious light
dawning upon the world at that sacred period, of
the advent, in fact, of the " Light of lights," and
the conquest over moral darkness. Hence, it is
thought, arose the domestic ceremony of the Christ-
mas candle, and that the Yule block was but another
form of the same, the poor man's Christmas
candle.
Occasionally, the Catholics appear to have made
these Christmas candles (as also the candles exhib-
ited by them, on other occasions of the commemo-
rations connected with their religion) in a triangular
form, as typical of the Trinity. Mr. Hone, in his
volume on the subject of " Ancient Mysteries," gives
a representation of one of these candles ; and Mr.
Crofton Croker, in a letter to us, speaking of the
huge dip candles called Christmas candles, exhib-
ited at this season in the chandlers' shops in Ire-
land, and presented by them to their customers,
says, " It was the custom, I have been told (for
the mystery of such matters was confined to the
kitchen), to burn the three branches down to the
point in which they united, and the remainder was
reserved to ' see in,' as it was termed, the new year
by." "There is," says Mr. Croker, "always con-
siderable ceremony observed in lighting these great
WASSAIL BOWL. Page 275.
CHRISTMAS EVE. 275
candles on Christmas Eve. It is thought unlucky
to snuff one ; and certain auguries are drawn from
the manner and duration of their burning."
The customs peculiar to Christmas Eve are nu-
merous, and various in different parts of the British
isles ; the peculiarities, in most cases, arising from
local circumstances or traditions, and determining
the particular forms of a celebration which is univer-
sal. To enter upon any thing like an enumeration
of these, it would be necessary to allow ourselves
another volume. We must, therefore, confine our-
selves to the general observances by which the
Christmas spirit works, and each of our readers will
have no difficulty in connecting the several local
customs which come under his own notice with the
particular feature of common celebration to which
they belong.
But all men, in all places, who would keep Christ-
mas Eve as Christmas Eve should be kept, must set
the wassail-bowl a- flowing for the occasion. " Fill
me a mighty bowl ! " says Herrick, "up to the
brim ! " and though this fountain of " quips and
cranks and wreathed smiles,'' belongs, in an espe-
cial sense, to Twelfth-night (Twelfth-night not being
Twelfth-night without it), yet it should be com-
pounded for every one of the festival nights, and
invoked to spread its inspirations over the entire
season.
" Honor to you who sit
Near to the well of wit,
And drink your fill of it ! "
276 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
again says our friend Herrick (what could we do
without him, in this Christmas book of ours?). And
surely, judging by such effects as we have witnessed,
Herrick must have meant the wassail-bowl. We
are perfectly aware that there are certain other
dwellers in that same bowl. Truth has been said
to lie at the bottom of a well ; and we have certainly
seen him unseasonably brought up out of the very
well in question, by those who have gone further
into its depths than was necessary for reaching the
abode of wit. No doubt, truth is at all times a
very respectable personage ; but there are certain
times when he and wit do not meet on the best of
terms, and he is apt, occasionally, to be somewhat
of a revel-marrer. The garb and temper in which
he often follows wit out of that bowl are not those
in which he appears to the most advantage. We
know, also, that there is yet a deeper deep, in which
worse things still reside ; and although there be
pearls there, too, and the skilful diver may bring
treasures up out of that bowl, and escape all its
evil spirits, besides, yet it is, at any rate, not on
this night of subdued mirth that we intend to
recommend an exploration of these further depths.
But still the bowl should be produced, and go
round. A cheerful sporting with the light bubbles
that wit flings up to its surface are perfectly con-
sistent with the sacred character of the night, and,
for ourselves, we will have a wassail-bowl this
Christmas Eve.
CHRISTMAS EVE. 277
The word " wassail " is derived from the Saxon
was haile ; which word, and drinc-heil (heil, health)
were, as appears from old authors quoted by Brand,
the usual ancient phrases of quaffing, among the
English and equivalent to the "Here's to you,"
and " I pledge you," of the present day. " The
wassail-bowl," says Warton, " is Shakspeare's gos-
sip's bowl, in the Midsummer Night's Dream." It
should be composed, by those who can afford it r
of some rich wine highly spiced and sweetened,
with roasted apples floating on its surface. But ale
was more commonly substituted for the wine, min-
gled with nutmeg, ginger, sugar, toast, and roasted
crabs. " It is," says Leigh Hunt, " a good-natured
bowl, and accommodates itself to the means of all
classes, rich and poor. You may have it of the
costliest wine or the humblest malt liquor. But in
no case must the roasted apples be forgotten.
They are the sine qua non of the wassail-bowl, as
the wassail-bowl is of the day (he is speaking of
New Year's Day) ; and very pleasant they are, pro-
vided they are not mixed up too much with the
beverage, balmy, comfortable, and different, a sort
of meat in the drink, but innocent wjthal and re-
minding you of the orchards. They mix their flavor
with the beverage, and the beverage with them, giv-
ing a new meaning to the line of the poet,
1 The gentler apple's winy juice ; '
for both winy and gentler have they become by
this process. Our ancestors gave them the affec-
278 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
tionate name of ' lamb's wool ; ' for we cannot help
thinking, in spite of what is intimated by one of
our authorities, that this term applied more partic-
ularly to the apples and not so much to the bowl
altogether ; though if it did, it shows how indispen-
sably necessary to it they were considered." With
all deference to Mr. Leigh Hunt's pleasant and
graceful trifling, lamb's wool was the title given to
the composition itself, no doubt on account of the
delicate and harmonious qualities, to which the
apples contribute their share. Our readers will
find an account of the alleged origin of this an-
nual practice in a curious description of an old
wassail-bowl, carved upon the oaken beam that sup-
ported a chimney-piece in an old mansion in Kent,
which description is copied by Hone into his
"Every- Day Book," from the "Antiquarian Reper-
tory." In the halls of our ancestors, this bowl was
introduced with the inspiring cry of " wassail,"
three times repeated, and immediately answered
by a song from the chaplain. We hope our
readers will sing to the wassail-bowl this Christmas-
tide.
We find that in some parts of Ireland and in
Germany, and probably in districts of England, too,
Christmas Eve is treated as a night of omens, and
that practices exist for gathering its auguries having
a resemblance to those of our northern neighbors at
Halloween. Many beautiful, and some solemn
superstitions belong to this night and the following
CHRISTMAS EVE. 279
morning. It is stated by Sir Walter Scott, in one
of his notes to " Marmion," to be an article of popu-
lar faith, " that they who are born on Christmas or
Good Friday have the power of seeing spirits, and
even of commanding them ; " and he adds that
" the Spaniards imputed the haggard and downcast
looks of their Philip II. to the disagreeable visions
to which this privilege subjected him."
Among the finest superstitions of the night may
be mentioned that which is alluded to by Shak-
speare in the lines which we have placed as the
epigraph to the present chapter. It is a conse-
quence or application of that very ancient and
popular belief which assigns the night for the wan-
derings of spirits, and supposes them, at the crow-
ing of " the cock, that is the trumpet to the morn,"
to start " like a guilty thing upon a fearful sum-
mons," and betake themselves to flight. Here
again, as in so many cases of vulgar superstition, a
sort of mental metonymy has taken place ; and the
crowing of the cock, which in the early stage of
the belief was imagined to be the signal for the
departure of evil spirits, only because it announced
the morning, is, in the further stage w.hich we are
examining, held to be a sound in itself intol-
erable to these shadowy beings. Accordingly it
is supposed that on the eve of Christmas " the
bird of dawning singeth all night long," to scare
away all evil things from infesting the hallowed
hours :
280 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
" And then, they say, no spirit dares stir abroad ;
The'nights are wholesome ; then no planets strike,
No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm,
So hallow'd and so gracious is the time."
In the south-west of England there exists a
superstitious notion that the oxen are to be found
kneeling in their stalls at midnight of this vigil, as
if in adoration of the Nativity, an idea which
Brand, no doubt correctly, supposes to have origi-
nated from the representations by early painters
of the event itself. That writer mentions a Cornish
peasant who told him (1790) of his having with
some others watched several oxen in their stalls,
on the eve of old Christmas Day. " At twelve
o'clock at night, they observed the two oldest oxen
fall upon their knees, and, as he expressed it in the
idiom of the country, make ' a cruel moan like
Christian creatures.' " To those who regard the
analogies of the human mind, who mark the prog-
ress of tradition, who study the diffusion of certain
fancies, and their influence upon mankind, an an-
ecdote related by Mr. Howison in his " Sketches
of Upper Canada," is full of comparative interest.
He mentions meeting an Indian at midnight, creep-
ing cautiously along in the stillness of a beautiful
moonlight Christmas Eve. The Indian made sig-
nals to him to be silent ; and when questioned as
to his reason replied, " Me watch to see the deer
kneel ; this is Christmas night, and all the deer fall
upon their knees to the Great Spirit, and look up."
CHRISTMAS EVE. 281
In various parts of England, bees are popularly
said to express their veneration for the Nativity by
" singing," as it is called, in their hives at midnight,
upon Christmas Eve : and in some places, particu-
larly in Derbyshire, it is asserted that the watcher
may hear the ringing of subterranean bells. In the
mining districts again, the workmen declare that
" Ever 'gainst that season comes
Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated,"
high mass is solemnly performed in that cavern
which contains the richest lode of ore, that it is
brilliantly lighted up with candles, and that the
service is chanted by unseen choristers.
Superstitions of this kind seem to be embodied
in the carol commencing with " I saw three ships
come sailing in," to which we have before alluded ;
the rhythm of which old song is to our ear singu-
larly melodious :
" And all the bells on earth shall ring
On Christmas-day, on Christmas-day,
And all the bells on earth shall ring
On Christmas-day in the morning.
" And all the angels in heaven shall sing
On Christmas-day, on Christmas-day,
And all the angels in heaven shall sing
On Christmas-day in the morning.
" And all the souls on earth shall sing
On Christmas-day, on Christmas-day,
And all the souls on earth shall sing,
On Christmas-day in the morning."
282 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
Such fancies are but the natural echoes in the
popular mind of ancient songs and customs ; and
so strongly is that mind impressed with the feeling
of a triumph pervading the entire natural economy
on
" the happy night
That to the cottage as the crown,
Brought tidings of salvation down,"
that even the torpid bees are figured in its super-
stitions to utter a voice of gladness, the music of
sweet chimes to issue from the bosom of the earth,
and rich harmonies to echo and high ceremonies
to be gorgeously performed, amid the hush and
mystery of buried cells.
We must not omit to mention that these sup-
posed natural testimonies to the triumph of the
time have been in some places used as means of
divination on a very curious question. The change
of style introduced into our calendars nearly a cen-
tury ago, and by which Christmas Day was displaced
from its ancient position therein, gave great dissatis-
faction on many accounts, and on none more than
that of its interference with this ancient festival.
The fifth and sixth of January continued long to be
observed as the true anniversary of the Nativity
and its vigil ; and the kneeling of the cattle, the
humming of the bees, and the ringing of subterra-
nean bells, were anxiously watched for authentica-
tions on this subject. The singular fact of the
budding about the period of old Christmas Day of
CHRISTMAS EVE. 283
the Cadenham oak, in the New Forest of Hamp-
shire, and the same remarkable feature of the
Glastonbury thorn (explained in various ways, but
probably nowhere more satisfactorily than in the
number for the 3ist December, 1833, of the Satur-
day Magazine), were of course used by the vulgar
as confirmation of their own tradition ; and the
putting forth of their leaves was earnestly waited
for as an unquestionable homage to the joyous
spirit of the true period.
We have already alluded to the high ceremonies
with which the great day is ushered in amongst the
Catholics, and to the beautiful music of the mid-
night mass :
" That only night of all the year
Saw the stoled priest his chalice rear.''
The reader who would have a very graphic and
striking account of the Christmas Eve mass, as per-
formed by torchlight amid the hills in certain dis-
tricts of Ireland, will find one in Mr. Carleton's
" Traits and Stories of the Irish Peasantry.''
We have also mentioned that all the watches of
this hallowed night shall ring to the sounds of
earthly minstrelsy, intimating, as best they may, the
heavenly choirs that hailed its rising over Judea
nearly two centuries ago. Not for the shepherds
alone, was that song ! Its music was for us, as for
them ; and all minstrelsy, however rude, is welcome
on this night that gives us any echoes of it, how-
284 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
ever wild. For us too, on the blessed day of
which this vigil keeps the door, "is born in the
city of David, a Saviour, which 'is Christ the
Lord ; " and we too amid the sacred services of
to-morrow will " go even unto Bethlehem, and see
this thing which is come to pass, which the Lord
hath made known to us."
JZL furry pa.ll yclaxl,
eri.wreathe5.wjfh lolly never sere.
Old Chris Unas coracs to close the wamedyeax:
Bampfylde.
CHRISTMAS DAY.
25 DECEMBER.
AND now has arrived the great and important
day itself which gives its title to the whole of this
happy season, and the high and blessed work of
man's redemption is begun. The paean of univer-
sal rejoicing swells up on every side : and after
those religious exercises which are the language
that man's joy should take first, the day is one of
brightened spirits and general congratulation. In
no way can man better express his sense of its
inestimable gift than by the condition of mind
that receives gladly, and gives freely ; than by mus-
tering his worldly affections, that he may renew
them in the spirit of the time. This is not the
proper place to speak more minutely of the religi-
ous sentiments and services which belong to the
season than we have already done. We may mere-
ly remark that the streets of the city and the thou-
sand pathways of the country are crowded on this
morning by rich and poor, young and old, coming
in on all sides, gathering from all quarters, to hear
286 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
the particulars of the " glad tidings " proclaimed ;
and each lofty cathedral and lowly village church
sends up a voice to join the mighty chorus whose
glad burthen is " Glory to God in the highest ;
and on earth peace, good will toward men."
From the religious duties of the day, we must
turn at once to its secular observances ; and these
we will take in the order, with reference to the prog-
ress of its hours, in which they come, mingling the
customs of modern times with those of the past in
our pages, as, in many respects, we wish our readers
would do in practice.
The plate then on the other side represents the
earliest, and not the least important, of the worldly
ceremonies of the day, the due observance thereof
being essential to the due observance of that later
ceremony which no man holds to be unimportant,
least of all on Christmas Day, the dinner. But,
" oh ! Molly Dumpling ! oh ! thou cook ! " if that
clock of thine be right, thou art far behindhand
with thy work ! Thou shouldst have risen when
thou wast disturbed by the Waits at three o'clock
this morning ! To have discharged thy duty faith-
fully, thou shouldst have consigned that huge
pudding at least two hours earlier to the reeking
caldron ! We are informed by those who understand
such matters, that a plum pudding of the ordinary
size requires from ten to twelve hours boiling : so
that a pudding calculated for the appetites of such
a party as our artist has assembled further on, for
CHRISTMAS PUDDING. Page 286.
CHRISTMAS DAY. 2Sj
its consumption, and due regard being had to the
somewhat earlier hour than on days in general at
which a Christmas dinner is commonly discussed,
should have found its way into the boiler certainly
before six o'clock. Molly evidently wants a word
of advice from the ancient bellman :
" Up, Doll, Peg, Susan ! You all spoke to me
Betimes to call you, and 't is now past three,
Get up on your but-ends, and rub your eyes,
For shame, no longer lye abed, but rise ;
The pewter still to scow'r and house to clean,
And you abed ! good girls, what is 't you mean ? "
On the subject of the identity of the modern
plum pudding with the ancient hackin, we are fur-
nished with the following curious remarks by Mr.
Crofton Croker, which we think well worth submit-
ting for the consideration of the curious in such
matters.
"The ' hackin,' " says that amusing old tract, en-
titled ' Round about our Coal Fire,' " ' must be
boiled by daybreak, or else two young men must
take the maiden [i. e., the cook] by the arms, and
run her round the market-place, till she is ashamed
of her laziness.' Brand, whose explanation Hone
in his Every-Day Book has adopted, renders ' hackin
by ' the great sausage ; ' and Nares tells us, that the
word means ' a large sort of sausage, being a part
of the cheer provided for Christmas festivities,'
deriving the word from hack, to cut or chop.
Agreeing in this derivation, we do not admit
288 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
Nares's explanation. ' Hackin,' literally taken, is
mince-meat of any kind ; but Christmas mince-
meat, everybody knows, means a composition of
meat and suet (hacked small) seasoned with fruit
and spices. And from the passage above quoted,
that ' the hackin must be boiled, i. e., boiling, by
daybreak,' it is obvious the worthy archdeacon
who, as well as Brand and Hone, has explained
it as a great sausage, did not see that ' hackin ' is
neither more nor less than the old name for the
national English dish of plum pudding.
" We have heard first-rate authorities upon this
subject assert, the late Dr. Kitchener and Mr.
Douce were amongst the number, that plum pud-
ding, the renowned English plum pudding, was a
dish comparatively speaking of modern invention ;
and that plum porridge was its ancient representa-
tive. But this, for the honor of England, we never
would allow, and always fought a hard battle upon
the point. Brand indeed devotes a section of his
observations on popular antiquities to 'Yule-doughs,
mince-pies, Christmas-pies, and plum porridge,'
omitting plum pudding, which new Christmas dish,
or rather new name for an old Christmas dish, ap-
pears to have been introduced with the reign of the
' merry monarch,' Charles II. A revolution always
creates a change in manners, fashions, tastes, and
names ; and our theory is that, among other changes,
the ' hackin' of our ancestors was then baptized plum
pudding In Poor Robin's Almanack for 1676, it
CHRISTMAS DAY. 289
is observed of Christmas, ' Good cheer doth so
abound as if all the world were made of minced-
pies, plum pudding, and furmity.' And we might
produce other quotations to show that, as the
name ' hackin ' fell into disuse about this period,
it was generally supplanted by that of plum
pudding."
Plum pudding is a truly national dish, and re-
fuses to flourish out of England. It can obtain no
footing in France. A Frenchman will dress like
an Englishman, swear like an Englishman, and get
drunk like an Englishman ; but if you would offend
him forever, compel him to eat plum pudding. A
few of the leading restaurateurs , wishing to appear
extraordinary, have plomb-pooding upon their cartes ;
but in no instance is it ever ordered by a French-
man. Everybody has heard the story of Saint Louis
Henri Quatre, or whoever else it might be
who, wishing to regale the English ambassador on
Christmas Day with a plum pudding, procured an
excellent receipt for making one, which he gave
to his cook with strict injunctions that it should be
prepared with due attention to all particulars. The
weight of the ingredients, the size of the copper,
the quantity of water, the duration of time, every-
thing was attended to, except one trifle ; the king
forgot the cloth ; and the pudding was served up
like so much soup, in immense tureens, to the
surprise of the ambassador, who was, however, too
well-bred to express his astonishment.
19
2QO THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
Amongst our ancestors, the duties of the day
which followed first after those of religion were the
duties which immediately spring out of a religion
like ours, those of charity.
" When
Among their children, comfortable men
Gather about great fires, and yet feel cold,
Alas ! then for the houseless beggar old ! "
was a sentiment of which they never allowed them-
selves to lose sight. Amid the preparations making
for his own enjoyment, and the comforts by which
he set at defiance the austerities of the season, the
old English gentleman did not forget the affecting
truths so beautifully embodied in words by Mary
Howitt :
" In rich men's halls, the fire is piled,
And ermine robes keep out the weather ;
In poor men's huts, the fire is low,
Through broken panes the keen winds blow,
And old and young are cold together.
" Oh ! poverty is disconsolate !
Its pains are many, its foes are strong !
The rich man, in his jovial cheer,
Wishes 't was winter through the year ;
The poor man, 'mid his wants profound,
With all his little children round,
Prays God that winter be not long ! "
Immediately after the services of the day, the coun-
try gentleman stood of old, at his own gate (as
we have represented him at page 109), and super-
CHRISTMAS DAY. 29 1
intended the distribution of alms to the aged and
the destitute. The hall, prepared for the festival of
himself and his friends, was previously opened to
his tenants and retainers ; and the good things of
the season were freely dispensed to all. " There
was once," says the writer of " Round about our
Coal Fire," " hospitality in the land. An English
gentleman at the opening of the great day had all
his tenants and neighbors enter his hall by day-
break ; the strong beer was broached, and the
black-jacks went plentifully about, with toast, sugar,
nutmeg, and good Cheshire cheese. . . . The
servants were then running here and there with
merry hearts and jolly countenances. Every one
was busy in welcoming of guests, and looked as
snug as new-licked puppies. The lasses were as
blithe and buxom as the maids in good Queen
Bess's days, when they ate sirloins of roast-beef for
breakfast. Peg would scuttle about to make a toast
for John, while Tom run harum-scarum to draw a
jug of ale for Margery."
Of this scene we have given a representation at
page 42 ; and much of this ancient spirit, we hope
and believe, still survives in this Christian country.
The solemn festivals of ancient superstition were
marked either by bloody sacrifice, secret revelling,
or open licentiousness. There was no celebration
of rites, real or symbolical, which might become a
religion of cheerfulness, decency, and mercy. There
was no medium between a mysteriousness dark and
292 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
gloomy as the grave, and a wild and savage enthu-
siasm or riotous frenzy, which mingled with the
worship of the gods the impassioned depravity of
human nature. From Moloch, upon whose dreadful
altar children were offered, to Bacchus, at whose
shrine reason and virtue were prostrated, there
were none of the fabled deities of antiquity whose
service united the spirit of devotion with innocent
pleasures and the exercise of the domestic chari-
ties. This was reserved for the Christian religion,
one of the marks of whose divinity it is that it can
mingle with many of the pleasures, and all the
virtues of the world, without sullying the purity of
its glory, without depressing the sublime elevation
of its character. The rites of Ceres were thought
profaned if the most virtuous believer of the divin-
ity of that goddess beheld them without having
undergone the ceremonies of special initiation.
The worship of Saturn gave rise to a liberty incon-
sistent with the ordinary government of states. At
the altar of Diana, on certain days, the Spartans
flogged children to death. And the offerings which
on state occasions the Romans made to Jupiter,
were such as feudal vassals might offer to their
warlike lord. But now, thank God ! to use the
words of Milton's Hymn on the Nativity,
" Peor and Baalim
Forsake their temples dim,
With that twice-batter'd God of Palestine ;
And mooned Ashtaroth
CHRISTMAS DAY. 293
Heaven's queen and mother both,
Now sits not girt with tapers' holy shine ;
The Lybick Hammon shrinks his horn ;
In vain the Tyrian maids their wounded Thammuz mourn.
" And sullen Moloch, fled,
Has left in shadows dread
His burning idol all of blackest hue;
In vain with cymbals' ring,
They call the grisly king,
In dismal dance about the furnace blue :
The brutish Gods of Nile as fast,
Iris, and Orus, and the dog Anubis haste.
" Nor is Osiris seen
In Memphian grove or green,
Trampling the unshowered grass with lowings loud ;
Nor can he be at rest,
Within his sacred chest;
Nought but profoundest hell can be his shroud.
In vain, with timbrelled anthems dark,
The sable-stoled sorcerers bear his worshipp'd ark.
" He feels from Jtidah's land
The dreaded Infant's hand ;
The rays of Bethlehem blind his dusky eyne ;
Nor all the gods beside
Longer dare abide ;
Not Typhon huge, ending in snaky twine :
Our Babe, to show his God-head true,
Can in his swaddling bands control the damned crew."
Oh ! how different were those religions of the
passions and the senses from that of the sentiments
and pure affections of the Christian heart; which,
as it rises to heaven in sublime devotion, expands
in charity towards its kind, until it comprehends all
294 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
humanity in the bond of universal benevolence. To
ameliorate the temporal, as well as elevate the spir-
itual state of man, is its distinguishing excellence,
the sublime peculiarity of its character as a religious
dispensation. All the systems of superstition were
external and gross, or mysterious and occult. They
either encouraged the follies and the passions of
men, or by a vain and fruitless knowledge flattered
their vanity. But Christianity came to repress the
one and to dissipate the other; to make the ex-
ercise of the virtues the result and the proof of
mental attachment to the doctrines which, while
they afford grand subjects of eternal interest, con-
tain the principles of all true civilization. It is
in this religion alone that faith is the sister of
charity ; that the former brightens with the beams
of another world the institutions by which the lat-
ter blesses this, those institutions of mercy and of
instruction which cover the land with monuments
of humanity that are nowhere to be found but
among the temples of our faith.
And now, when silent and desolate are even
the high places over which Augustus ruled, fallen
majestic Rome with all her gods, the religion pro-
claimed to the humble shepherds, whose sound
was first heard by the moonlight streams and under
the green boughs, has erected on the ruins of
ancient grandeur a sublimer dominion than all
those principalities of the earth which refused its
hospitality. It came in gentleness and lowliness
CHRISTMAS DAY. 295
and the spirit of peace ; and now it grasps the
power of the universe, and wields the civilized en-
ergies of the greatest of all the nations to the benefi-
cent extension of its authority, imperishable in its
glory, and bloodless in its triumphs !
On the opposite side, our artist has given a lively
and correct representation of the high festival an-
ciently celebrated on Christmas Day in the old
baronial hall ; and has presented it at that im-
portant moment when the procession of the boar's
head is making its way, with the customary cere-
monies, to the upper table. Our account of Christ-
mas would not be complete without some notice of
this grand dish at the feasts of our ancestors, and
some description of the forms which attended its
introduction.
The boar's head soused, then, was carried into
the great hall with much state, preceded by the
Master of the Revels, and followed by choristers
and minstrels, singing and playing compositions in
its honor. Dugdale relates that at the Inner
Temple, for the first course of the Christmas din-
ner, was " served in, a fair and large bore's head
upon a silver platter, with minstrelsye." And here
we would observe, what we do not think has been
before remarked, that the boar's head carols appear
to have systematically consisted of three verses. A
manuscript indeed which we once met with, stated
that the " caroll, upon the bringynge in of the bore's
head, was sung to the glorie of the blessed Triny-
296 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
tie ; " and the three subsequent illustrative speci-
mens in which the peculiarity mentioned may be
observed tend to confirm this notion. At St.
John's, Oxford, in 1607, before the bearer of the
boar's head who was selected for his height and
lustiness, and wore a green silk scarf, with an empty
sword-scabbard dangling at his side went a run-
ner dressed in a horseman's coat, having a boar's
spear in his hand, a huntsman in green carrying the
naked and bloody sword belonging to the head-
bearer's scabbard, and " two pages in tafatye sar-
cenet," each with a " mess of mustard." Upon
which occasion these verses were sung :
" The boare is dead,
Loe, heare is his head,
What man could have done more
Then his head of to strike,
Meleager like,
And bringe it as I doe before ?
"He livinge spoyled
Where good men toyled,
Which made kinde Ceres sorrye ;
But now, dead and drawne,
Is very good brawne,
And wee have brought it for ye.
" Then sett downe the swineyard,
The foe to the vineyard,
Lett Bacchus crowne his fall ;
Lett this boare's head and mustard
Stand for pigg, goose, and custard,
And so you are welcome all."
CHRISTMAS DAY. 297
So important was the office of boar's-head bearer
considered to be, that, in 1170, Holinshed has
chronicled the circumstance of England's king,
Henry II., bringing up to the table of his son, the
young prince, a boar's head, with trumpeters going
before him. From this species of service it is
probable that many of our heraldic bearings have
originated. "The ancient crest of the family of
Edgecumbe," observes Ritson, " was the boar's head
crowned with bays upon a charger ; which," he
adds, " has been very injudiciously changed into
the entire animal."
This same diligent arranger and illustrator of
our old ballads gives us, in his collection of ancient
songs, a Boar's-head Carol, which probably belongs
to the fourteenth century, from a manuscript in his
possession, now, we believe, in the British Mu-
seum.
In die nativitatis.
" Newell, nowell, nowell, nowell,
Tydyngs gode y thyngke to telle.
The borys hede that we bryng here,
Be tokeneth a prince with owte pere,
Ys born this day to bye vs dere,
Nowell.
" A bore ys a souerayn beste,
And acceptable in every feste,
So mote thys lorde be to moste & leste,
Nowell.
" This borys hede we bryng with song,
In worchyp of hym that thus sprang
Of a virgyne to redresse all wrong,
Nowell."
298 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
The printing-press of Wynkyn de Worde has
preserved to us the carol believed to have been
generally used, prior to 1521, upon these occasions ;
a modernized version of which continues to be sung
in Queen's College, Oxford. It is entitled " A
Caroll bringyne in the Bores heed ; " and runs
thus :
" Caput apri defero
Reddens laudes Domino,
The bore's heade in hande bring I
With garlandes gay and rosemary,
I pray you all synge merely,
Qui estis in convivio.
" The bore's head I understande
Is the chefe servyce in this lancle,
Loke wherever it be fande,
Servile cum cantico.
" Be gladde, lordes both more and lasse,
For this hath ordayned our stewarde,
To chere you all this Christmasse,
The bore's head with mustarde."
A tradition of the same college states the intro-
duction there of the boar's head (which according
to Ritson, is now a mere representation " neatly
carved in wood ") to be contrived " as a commemo-
ration of an act of valor performed by a student
of the college, who while walking in the neigh-
boring forest of Shotover, and reading Aristotle,
was suddenly attacked by a wild boar. The furious
beast came open-mouthed upon the youth ; who,
however, very courageously, and with a happy pres-
CHRISTMAS DAY. 299
ence of mind, is said to have rammed in the
volume, and cried grcecum est, fairly choking the
savage with the sage." To this legend a humorous
"song in honor of the Boar's head at Queen's
College, Oxford," refers, having for its motto, Tarn
Marti quam Mercurio, but for which we cannot
afford space.
The ancient mode of garnishing the boar's head
was with sprigs of sweet-scented herbs. Dekker,
than whom we could not name a more appropriate
authority on this subject, speaking of persons
apprehensive of catching the plague, says, " They
went (most bitterly) miching and muffled up and
down, with rue and wormwood stuft into their eares
and nostrils, looking like so many bore's heads,
stuck with branches of rosemary, to be served in
for brawne at Christmas." The following lines
describe the manner of serving up this famous
dish :
" if you would send up the brawner's head,
Sweet rosemary and bays around it spread ;
His foaming tusks let some large pippin grace,
Or 'midst these thundering spears an orange place ;
Sauce like himself, offensive to its foes,
The roguish mustard, dangerous to the nose ;
Sack, and the well spiced hippocras, the wine
Wassail, the bowl with ancient ribands fine,
Porridge with plums, and Turkeys, with the chine."
Sack and hippocras are no longer to be found in
our cellars ; but, as we have shown, we still com-
pound the wassail-bowl.
300 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
The Christmas dinner of modern days is, as
most of our readers know, a gathering together of
generations, an assembling of Israel by its tribes.
In the one before us, the artist has given a pretty
extensive muster. We have them of the seven ages
and the several professions. Contrast with this
modern Christmas dinner, as well as with the high
festival of yore, the dreary picture of a Christmas
Day and dinner, under the stern prescription of the
Puritans, as given in his Diary, by Pepys, the chatty
secretary to the Admiralty. " 1668, Christmas-day.
To dinner," thus he writes, " alone with my wife ;
who, poor wretch ! sat undressed all day till ten at
night, altering and lacing of a noble petticoat ; while
I, by her, making the boy read to me the life of
Julius Caesar and Des Cartes' book of Music."
To the heads of the very respectable family
before us, we have already been introduced, in an
earlier part of this volume, and are glad to meet
with them again, under circumstances so auspicious,
and supported by their junior branches. In a family
so flourishing, we might have expected to escape
the exhibition of antiquated celibacy. But, no !
that is clearly an old maid, who is hobnobbing
with the gentleman in the foreground, and, we must
say. there is something about him which carries a
strong suspicion of old-bachelorship. We suppose
the one and the other are to be found in most
families. However, they are not the parties who
least enjoy this sort of reunions. We fancy, it is
CHRISTMAS DAY. 301
known to most people that meetings of this descrip-
tion are very happy ones amongst the members of a
family, and remarkably uninteresting to third parties.
We should certainly prefer reading Des Cartes, with
Pepys and his wife, to finding ourselves a "for-
eigner " in such a group as the present.
But the best of the day is yet to come ! and we
should have no objection to join the younger mem-
bers of that group in the merry sports that await
the evening. We need not give the programme.
It is like that of all the other Christmas nights. The
blazing fire, the song, the dance, the riddle, the jest,
and many another merry sport, are of its spirits.
Mischief will be committed under the mistletoe-
bough, and all the good wishes of the season sent
round under the sanction of the wassail-bowl.
ST. STEPHEN'S DAY.
26xH DECEMBER.
THIS day, which, in our calendar, is still dedicated
to the first Christian martyr, St. Stephen (for John
the Baptist perished in the same cause before the
consummation of the old law and the full intro-
duction of the Christian dispensation), is more
popularly known by the title of Boxing-day ; and its
importance amongst the Christmas festivities is de-
rived from the practice whence that title comes.
We have already mentioned that the custom of
bestowing gifts at seasons of joyous commemora-
tion, has been a form of thankfulness at most
periods ; and that it may have been directly bor-
rowed, by the Christian worshippers, from the poly-
theists of Rome, along with those other modes of
celebration which descended to the Christmas festi-
val from that source, introduced, however, amongst
our own observances, under Scripture sanctions,
drawn both from the old and new Testaments.
The particular form of that practice whose dona-
tions are known by the title of Christmas-boxes
ST. STEPHEN S DAY. 303
(and which appear to differ from New-year's gifts
in this, that the former, passing from the rich to the
poor and from the master to his dependants, are
not reciprocal in their distribution, whereas the lat-
ter are those gifts, for the mutual expression of
goodwill and congratulation, which are exchanged
between friends and acquaintances), was, perhaps,
originally one of the observances of Christmas Day,
and made a portion of its charities. The multiplied
business of that festival, however, probably caused
it to be postponed till the day following, and thereby
placed the Christmas-boxes under the patronage of
St. Stephen. The title itself has been derived, by
some, from the box which was kept on board of
every vessel that sailed upon a distant voyage, for
the reception of donations to the priest, who. in
return, was expected to offer masses for the safety
of the expedition, to the particular saint having '
charge of the ship, and above all, of the box.
This box was not to be opened till the return of the
vessel ; and we can conceive that, in cases where
the mariners had had a perilous time of it, this cas-
ket would be found to enclose a tolerable offering.
Probably the state of the box might be as good an
evidence as the log-book, of the character of the
voyage which had been achieved. The mass was
at that time called Christmass, and the boxes kept
to pay for it were, of course, called Christmass-boxes.
The poor, amongst those who had an interest in the
fate of these ships, or of those who sailed in them,
304 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
were in the habit of begging money from the rich,
that they might contribute to the mass boxes ; and
hence the title which has descended to our day,
giving to the anniversary of St. Stephen's martyrdom
the title of Christmas-boxing day, and, by corrup-
tion, its present popular one of Boxing-day.
A relic of these ancient boxes yet exists in the
earthen or wooden box, with a slit in it, which still
bears the same name, and is carried by servants
and children for the purpose of gathering money,
at this season, being broken only when the period
of collection is supposed to be over.
Most of our readers know that it was the practice,
not many years ago (and in some places is so still),
for families to keep lists of the servants, of trades-
men and others, who were considered to have a
claim upon them for a Christmas-box, at this time.
The practice, besides opening a door to great ex-
tortion, is one in every way of considerable annoy-
ance, and is on the decline. There is, however,
as they who are exposed to it know, some danger
in setting it at defiance, where it is yet in force.
One of the most amusing circumstances arising out
of this determination to evade the annoyances of
Boxing-day, is related by Sandys. A person in trade
had imprudently given directions that he should be
denied, on this day, to all applicants for money ;
and amongst those who presented themselves at his
door, on this errand, was unfortunately a rather im-
portunate creditor. In the height of his indignation
ST. STEPHEN'S DAY. 305
at being somewhat uncourteously repulsed, he imme-
diately consulted his lawyer, and, having done ////,
we need scarcely relate the catastrophe. It follows
as a matter of course. A docket was struck against
the unsuspecting victim of Christmas-boxophobia.
Boxing-day, however, is still a great day in Lon-
don. Upon this anniversary, every street resounds
with the clang of hall-door knockers. Rap follows
rap, in rap\& succession, the harsh and discordant
tones of iron mingling with those of rich and sonor-
ous brass, and giving a degenerate imitation of the
brazen clangor of the trumpet, which formed the
summons to the gate in days of old, and which,
together with the martial music of the drum, ap-
pears to have been adopted, at a later period,
by the Christmas-boxers, on St. Stephen's Day.
Pepys, in his Diary (1668), records his having been
" called up by drums and trumpets ; these things
and boxes," he adds, " have cost me much money
this Christmas, and will do more." Which passage
seems to have been in the memory of our facetious
publisher, when he made the following entry in his
journal of last year, from whence we have taken the
liberty of transcribing it. " Called out," says
Spooner (1834), "by the parish beadle, dustmen,
and charity-boys. The postman, street-sweepers,
chimney-sweepers, lamp-lighters, and waits will all
be sure to wait upon me. These fellows have cost
me much money this Christmas, and will do more,
the next."
306 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
There is an amusing account, given by a writer
of the querulous class, of a boxing-day in London,
a century ago. " By the time I was- up," says he,
" my servants could do nothing but run to the door.
Inquiring the meaning, I was answered, the people
were come for their Christmas-box : this was logic
to me ; but I found at last that, because I had laid
out a great deal of ready-money with my brewer,
baker, and other tradesmen, they kindly thought it
my duty to present their servants with some money,
for the favor of having their goods. This provoked
me a little, but being told it was the ' custom,' I
complied. These were followed by the watch,
beadles, dustmen, and an innumerable tribe ; but
what vexed me the most was the clerk, who has an
extraordinary place, and makes as good an appear-
ance as most tradesmen in the parish ; to see him
come a-boxing, alias, a-begging, I thought was in-
tolerable ; however I found it was ' the custom,'
too ; so I gave him half-a-crown, as I was likewise
obliged to do to the bellman, for breaking my rest
for many nights together."
The manner in which the beadle approaches his
"good masters and mistresses," for a Christmas-
box, particularly in the villages near the Britisli
metropolis, is, as we have before said, by the presen-
tation of a copy of printed verses, ornamented with
wood engravings. These broadsides are usually
termed " Bellman's verses ; " and we quite agree
with Mr. Leigh Hunt in his opinion, that "good
ST. STEPHEN'S DAY. 307
bellman's verses will not do at all. There have
been," he remarks, " some such things of late ' most
tolerable and not to be endured.' We have seen
them witty, which is a great mistake. Warton and
Cowper unthinkingly set the way." "The very
absurdity of the bellman's verses is only pleasant,
nay, only bearable, when we suppose them written
by some actual doggrel-poet, in good faith. Mere
mediocrity hardly allows us to give our Christmas-
box, or to believe it now-a-days in earnest ; and the
smartness of your cleverest wordly-wise men is felt
to be wholly out of place. No, no ! give us the
good old decrepit bellman's verses, hobbling as their
bringer, and taking themselves for something re-
spectable, like his cocked-hat, or give us none at
all."
Upon the bellman's verses which were last year
circulated by the beadles of Putney, Chiswick, and
other parishes on the west side of London, it was
recorded, that they were " first printed in the year
1735," and our curiosity induced us to inquire of
the printer the number annually consumed. " We
used, sir," said he, " not many years ago, to print
ten thousand copies, and even more, but now I
suppose we don't print above three thousand."
Whether the trade of this particular dealer in
bellman's verses has passed into other hands, or
whether the encouragement given to the circulation
of these broadsides has declined, the statement of
an individual will not of course enable us to de-
308 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
termine. But we are inclined to think that, like
other old Christmas customs, the popularity of bell-
man's verses is passing away, and that, before
many years have elapsed, penny magazines and
unstamped newspapers will have completely super-
seded these relics of the rude, but sincere, piety of
our ancestors.
The claims of dustmen to be remembered upon
" Boxing-day " were formerly urged, without literary
pretensions ; but now " the march of intellect " has
rendered it necessary for them to issue their ad-
dresses in print. One of these, which lies before
us, represents that u the United Association of Dust-
men and Scavengers, of the Parish of have
the honor to pay their humble duty and respects to
the good \_Master or Mistress] of this house, and
to solicit a Christmas mark of approbation of their
unwearied exertions, which they flatter themselves
conduce so eminently to the comfort and salubrity
of the greatest metropolitan city of civilized Europe."
Here, however, is another, in which the spirit of St.
Stephen's Day is embittered by the rivalries of busi-
ness ; and the harmony of those two respectable
bodies, the scavengers and dustmen, appears to
have been disturbed. The dustmen, it will be seen,
repudiate the scavengers, and appeal to Saint Ste-
phen on a separate interest.
" To the Worthy Inhabitants of the Southampton Estate.
" Ladies and Gentlemen. At this season, when
you are pleased to give to laboring men, employed
ST. STEPHEN'S DAY. 309
in collecting your dust, a donation called Christ-
mas-box, advantage of which is often taken by
persons assuming the name of Dustmen, obtaining
under false pretences your bounty, we humbly sub-
mit to your consideration, to prevent such imposi-
tion, to bestow no gift on any not producing a brass
figure of the following description, A Scotch Fifer,
French horn, etc., between his legs ; James Dee
and Jerry Cane; Southampton Paving Act, on the
bell ; Contractor, Thomas Salisbury.
" No connection with scavengers. Please not to
return this bill to any one."
The principal Wait also leaves a notice of a
more imposing description, stating a regular ap-
pointment to the office by warrant and admission,
with all the ancient forms of the City and Liberty
of Westminster ; and bears a silver badge and
chain, with the arms of that city.
We cannot dismiss the various modes of collect-
ing Christmas-boxes, without a few words upon the
pieces of writing carried about by parish boys, and
which once presented the only evidence that the
schoolmaster was abroad. It appears formerly to
have been the practice at this season to hang up
in our churches the work of the most skilful pen-
man in the parish, after it had been generally ex-
hibited ; the subject of which was the life of some
saint, or other religious legend. Pepys thus men-
tions the custom: "26 December, 1665. Saw
some fine writing work and flourishing of Mr. Hore,
310 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
with one that I knew long ago, an acquaintance of
Mr. Tomson's at Westminster, that, is this man's
clerk. It is the story of the several Archbishops
of Canterbury, engrossed on vellum, to hang up in
Canterbury cathedral in tables in lieu of the old
ones, which are almost worn out."
To this usage, which was no doubt of monkish
origin, we are inclined to refer the specimens of
caligraphy upon gaudily ornamented sheets of
paper, brought round on St. Stephen's Day by
parish boys and charity-school children, and dis-
played for admiration and reward. The walls of
school-rooms, and the houses of the children's
parents are afterwards decorated with these
" Christmas pieces," in the same manner as were
anciently the walls of churches.
There are in the different Christian countries of
Europe a variety of popular practices connected
with St. Stephen's Day ; such as that of bleeding
horses, which is mentioned by old Tusser in his
" December's Abstract : "
"At Christmas is good
To let thy horse blood ; "
and more particularly in his " December's Hus-
bandry : "
"Ere Christmas be passed, let horse be let blood,
For many a purpose, it doth them much good,
The day of St. Stephen old fathers did use."
ST. STEPHtN'S DAY. 311
These various popular observances, however, are
generally of that local and peculiar kind which we
are compelled to omit in our enumeration, for rea-
sons already given. But there is one of so striking
a character, that we must pause to give some ac-
count of it.
This custom, which is called " hunting the wren,"
is generally practised by the peasantry of the south
of Ireland on St. Stephen's Day. It bears a close
resemblance to the Manx proceedings described
by Waldron, as taking place however on a differ-
ent day. " On the 24th of December," says that
writer, in his account of the Isle of Man, " towards
evening the servants in general have a holiday ;
they go not to bed all night, but ramble about till
the bells ring in all the churches, which is at twelve
o'clock. Prayers being over, they go to hunt the
wren ; and after having found one of these poor
birds, they kill her and lay her on a bier with the
utmost solemnity, bringing her to the parish church
and burying her with a whimsical kind of solemnity,
singing dirges over her in the Manx language, which
they call her knell ; after which Christmas begins."
The Wren-boys in Ireland, who are also called
Droleens, go from house to house for the purpose
of levying contributions, carrying one or more of
these birds in the midst of a bush of holly, gaily
decorated with colored ribbons ; which birds they
have, like the Manx mummers, employed their
morning in killing. The following is their song;
312 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
of which they deliver themselves in most monoton-
ous music :
" The wren, the wren, the king of all birds,
St. Stephen's-day was caught in the furze,
Although he is little, his family 's great,
I pray you, good landlady, give us a treat.
" My box would speak, if it had but a tongue,
And two or three shillings would do it no wrong ;
Sing holly, sing ivy sing ivy, sing holly,
A drop just to drink, it would drown melancholy.
" And if you draw it of the best,
I hope, in heaven your soul will rest;
But if you draw it of the small,
It won't agree with these Wren-boys at all."
If an immediate acknowledgment, either in money
or drink, is not made in return for the civility of
their visit, some such nonsensical verses as the fol-
lowing are added :
" Last Christmas-day, I turned the spit,
I burned my fingers (I feel it yet),
A cock sparrow flew over the table,
The dish began to fight with the ladle.
" The spit got up like a naked man,
And swore he 'd fight with the dripping pan ;
The pan got up and cocked his tail,
And swore he 'd send them all to jail."
The story told to account for the title of " king
of all birds," here given to the wren, is a curious
sample of Irish ingenuity, and is thus stated in the
ST. STEPHEN'S DAY. 313
clever "Tales of the Munster Festivals," by an Irish
servant in answer to his master's inquiry :
" Saint Stephen ! why what the mischief, I ask
you again, have I to do with Saint Stephen ? "
" Nothen, sure, sir, only this being his day, when
all the boys o' the place go about that way with the
wran, the king of all birds, sir, as they say (bekays
wanst when all the birds wanted to choose a king,
and they said they 'd have the bird that would fly
highest, the aigle flew higher than any of 'em, till
at last when he could n't fly an inch higher, a little
rogue of a wran that was a-hide under his wing
took a fly above him a piece, and was crowned
king, of the aigle an' all, sir), tied in the middle
o' the holly that way you see, sir, by the leg, that
is. An old custom, sir."
Vainly have we endeavored to arrive at the prob-
able origin of hunting and killing these little birds
upon this day. The tradition commonly related is
by no means satisfactory. It is said that a Danish
army would have been surprised and destroyed by
some Irish troops, had not a wren given the alarm
by pecking at some crumbs upon a drum-head, the
remains of the sleeping drummer's supper; which
roused him, when he instantly beat to arms. And
that from this circumstance the wren became an
object of hatred to the Irish.
Songs similar in spirit to that of the Irish Dro-
leen boys were popularly sung by the Greeks. In
DTsraeli's "Curiosities of Literature," may be
314 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
found translations of " the crow song," and " the
swallow song ; " between which and the Irish wren
song the resemblance is very strikihg. " Swallow-
singing or chelidonising, as the Greek term is," was,
it appears, a method of collecting eleemosynary
gifts in the month of Boedromion or August. We
think D'Israeli is right in his opinion that there is
probably a closer connection between the custom
which produced the songs of the crow and the
swallow and that of our northern mummeries, than
may be at first sight suspected. The subject of
mumming we have elsewhere treated at some
length ; but this curious variety of the practice, and
the manner in which it seems to connect the sub-
ject with the ceremonies of the Greeks, we could
not allow ourselves wholly to omit.
NEW YEAR'S EVE.
3 IST DECEMBER.
THIS is the last day of the year, and the feelings
which belong to it are of a tangled yarn. Regrets
for the past are mingled with hopes of the future ;
and the heart of man, between the meeting years,
stands like the head of Janus looking two ways.
The day and eve which precede the New Year
are marked, in England, by few outward observ-
ances, save such as are common to the season ; and
it is in the peculiar trains of thought to which they
give rise that they have a character of their own.
In Scotland, on the other hand, the festival of
this season is, since the Reformation, nearly limited
to these two days ; and the last day of the year is
distinguished both by omens and by customs pe-
culiar to itself. In Mr. Stewart's " Popular Super-
stitions of the Highlands," there is an account of
some of these omens, as they were gathered, at no
distant period, in that land of mist and mystery;
and a singular example may be mentioned in the
auguries drawn from what was called the Candlemas
31 6 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
bull. The term Candlemas, which has been given
to this season, in Scotland and elsewhere, is sup-
posed to have had its origin in some old religious
ceremonies which were performed by candle light ;
and the bull was a passing cloud, which in High-
land imagination assumed the form of that animal,
and from whose rise or fall, or motions generally
on this night, the seer prognosticated good or bad
weather. Something of the same kind is mentioned
in Sir John Sinclair's " Statistical Account of Scot-
land," who explains more particularly the auguries
gathered from the state of the atmosphere on New
Year's Eve. The superstition in question, however,
is not peculiar to the Highlands of Scotland, but
shared with the northern European nations in
general, most of whom assigned portentous qualities
to the winds of New Year's Eve.
It is on this night that those Scottish mummers,
the Guisars, to whom we have already more than
once alluded, still go about the streets, habited in
antic dresses, having their faces covered with vizards
and carrying cudgels in their hands. The doggerel
lines repeated by these masquers, as given by Mr.
Callender, in a paper contributed by him to the
Transactions of the Antiquarian Society of Scotland,
are as follows :
" Hogmanay,
Trollolay,
Gie me o' your white bread,
I'll hae nane o' your grey; "
NEW YEAR'S EVE. 317
and much learning has been exhausted, and inge-
nuity exercised in their explanation. The admi-
rable paper of Mr. Repp, in the same Transactions
(to which we have already alluded, and which we
recommend to the notice of our antiquarian readers),
connects them, as we have before hinted, with
another superstition common to many of the north-
ern nations ; and which may be compared with one
of the articles of popular belief before described, as
prevailing in England, on Christmas Eve ; that, viz.,
which seems to imply that the spirits of evil are at
this time in peculiar activity, unless kept down by
holier and more powerful influences. According to
this able investigator, the moment of midnight, on
New Year's Eve, was considered to be a general
removing term for the races of genii, whether
good or bad ; and the first two lines of the cry in
question, which as he explains them, after the Anglo-
Saxon and Icelandic dialects, were words of appeal
to the good genii (the hoghmen or hillmen), and
of execration against the evil ones (the trolles), were
so used, in consequence of such belief (that these
different spirits were, at that hour, in motion), and
of the further one that the words of men had power
to determine that motion to their own advantage.
It is well known that, in some countries, and we
may mention Germany, great importance is at-
tached to words involuntarily uttered at certain sea-
sons, and under certain circumstances, and they
are supposed to be either words of betrayal, leaving
31 8 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
the speaker open to the machinations of evil spirits,
who may apply them in a strained and fatal sense,
if at all ambiguous ; or words of power, controlling
the designs of demons, and compelling them to
work out the good of the utterer, against their will.
Now a superstition of this kind, Mr. Repp says,
attaches generally to the doctrines of demonology ;
and he states that he could prove his position by
many instances from Arabic and Persian fairy lore.
We may observe that some of the Highland super-
stitions mentioned by Mr. Stewart, such as that of
sprinkling the household with water drawn from
the dead and living ford, and that of fumigating the
apartments and half smothering their tenants with
the smoke from burning piles of the juniper-bush
(both considered to operate as charms against the
spells of witchcraft and the malignity of evil eyes),
have, evidently, their origin in that same belief, that
the powers of evil are on the wing at this mysterious
and solemn time of natural transition.
Some ancient superstitions are likewise alluded to
in the old dialogue of Dives and Pauper, as being
in force at the beginning of the year, and which
appear to have had a like origin with the Highland
ones above described. As an example, mention
may be made of the practice of " setting of mete or
drynke by nighte on the benche, to fede Alholde
or Gobelyn."
We must not forget to observe that Brand speaks
of an ancient custom, which he says is still retained
NEW YEAR'S EV-E. 319
in some parts of England, in which young women
go about on this eve carrying a wassail-bowl, and
singing certain verses from door to door, which cus-
tom has certainly some analogy with the hogmanay
practice in Scotland. And we may further state,
while we are in the way of tracing resemblances,
that the het pint, which, in Scotland, was formerly
carried about the streets at the midnight of the New
Year's coming in, and which was composed of ale,
spirits, sugar, and nutmeg or cinnamon, is neither
more nor less, though it was borne about in a kettle,
than a Scottish version of the wassail-bowl.
In Ritson's collection of ancient songs, there is a
very spirited carol given at length, which appears
to have been sung by these English wassail mum-
mers, in honor of their bowl ; but which some of
its verses prove to be a Twelfth-night song, and
show, therefore, that a similar practice marked the
night of the Epiphany. It begins right heartily :
" A jolly wassel-bowl,
A wassel of good ale,
Well fare the butler's soul
That setteth this to sale ;
Our jolly wassel ; "
but is too long for insertion in our pages. We
should mention here, however, that ale in all its
forms, whether in that of wassail composition or in
its own simple dignity, " prince of liquors, old or
new ! " was ever the most cherished beverage of
our ancestors, and many and enthusiastic are the
320 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
songs in its praise. Our readers may take the fol-
lowing verse from a very pleasant example of these
carols :
" I love no rost, but a nut brown toste,
And a crab layde in the fyre,
A little bread shall do me stead,
Much breade I not desyre :
No froste nor snow, no winde, I trowe,
Can hurt mee if I wolde ;
I am so wrapt, and throwly lapt
Of jolly good ale and olde.
Back and syde go bare, go bare,
Both foote and hand, go colde ;
But belly God send thee good ale inoughe,
Whether it be new or olde."
We believe that most of the customs which, up
to a recent period, filled the streets of Edinburgh
with mirth and bustle, on the eve of the New Year,
have met with discouragement, and of late fallen
into disuse, in consequence of some outrages which
were committed under their shelter, in the year 181 1.
We presume, however, that there are still many
places of the northern kingdom, in which the youth
waits impatiently for the striking of the midnight
hour, that he may be the earliest to cross the thresh-
old of his mistress, and the lassie listens eagerly,
from the moment when its chiming has ceased, to
catch the sound of the first-foot on the floor :
" T\IQ first foot' s entering step,
That sudden on the floor is welcome heard,
Ere blushing maids have braided up their hair ;
The laugh, the hearty kiss, the good New Year,
Pronounced with honest warmth."
NEW YEAR'S EVE. 321
Considerable importance was formerly, and prob-
ably is still, attached to this custom. The welfare
of a family, particularly of the fairer portion of its
^members, was supposed to depend much on the
character of the person who might first cross the
threshold, after the mid-hour of this night had
sounded. Great care was therefore taken to ex-
clude all improper persons ; and when the privi-
lege of the season is taken into consideration (that
viz., of the hearty kiss above mentioned), it is
probable that the maidens themselves might con-
sider it desirable to interfere after their own fashion
in the previous arrangements which were to secure
the priority of admission to an unobjectionable
guest.
But our space does not permit us to inquire at
length in the present volume into any other cus-
toms than those which belong to an English
Christmas season. We have only been able occa-
sionally to advert to others, even amongst our own
sister nations, when they helped to throw light upon
those which on this occasion are our immediate
subject. We must therefore return at once to the
only general and conspicuous observance of this
eve in England, viz., that which is commonly
called " seeing the New Year in."
It is almost impossible for man on this day to
be insensible to the " still small voices " that call
upon him for a gathering up of his thoughts. In
the very midst of the house of mirth, a shadow
322 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
passes through the heart and summons it to a
solemn conference. The skeleton who sits at all
feasts, though overlooked at most from long habit,
gets power on this day to wave his hand, and points
emphatically, with his " slow-moving finger," to the
long record whose burthen is " passing away ! "
The handwriting of Time comes visibly out upon
the wall ; and the spirit pauses to read its lessons,
and take an account of the wrecks which it regis-
ters and the changes which it announces. Proper-
ly speaking, every day is the commencement of a
new year, and the termination of an old one ; but
it is only, as we have said at the beginning of this
book, by these emphatic markings that man is at-
tracted to a consideration of a fact, whose daily
recurrence at once makes its weighty importance
and causes it to be forgotten, as if it were of none !
But on this particular day, no man fails to re-
member that
" Again the silent wheels of time
Their annual round have driven ; "
and how solemn are the reflections which suggest
themselves to him who casts his eye over the space
of a year, in a spirit which can look beyond his
own personal share in its doings, and embrace the
wide human interests that such a retrospect in-
cludes ! " What a mighty sum of events," says
that excellent writer, William Howitt, " has been
consummated; what a tide of passions and affec-
NEW YEARS EVE. 323
tions has flowed ; what lives and deaths have alter-
nately arrived ; what destinies have been fixed for-
ever! . . . Once more our planet has completed
one of those journeys in the heavens which perfect
all the fruitful changes of its peopled surface, and
mete out the few stages of our existence ; and
every day, every hour of that progress has in all
her wide lands, in all her million hearts, left traces
that eternity shall behold." Oh ! blessed they and
rich, beyond all other blessedness and all other
wealth which " Time's effacing fingers " may have
left them, who, on the last night of the year, can
turn from reviews like these to sleep upon the pil-
low of a good conscience, though that pillow should
be moistened, aye, steeped in their tears !
No doubt it is in the name of his own private
affections that man is first summoned to that re-
view, which the wise will end by thus extending ;
and the first reckoning which each will naturally
take is that of the treasures which may have been
lost or gained to himself in the year which is about
to close. Through many, many a heart, that sum-
mons rings in the low, sweet, mournful voice of
some beloved one, whom in that bereaving space
we have laid in the " narrow house ; " and then
it will happen (for man is covetous of his griefs,
when his attention is once called to them) that the
ghost which took him out into the churchyard to
visit its own tomb, will end by carrying him round
its dreary precincts and showing him all the graves
324 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
that he has planted from his childhood. There
will be hours on a day like this to many, and in
some year or another to most, when the cheerful
hopes which are also of the natural spirit of the
season would contend in vain with the memories
which it conjures up, but for that furthest and
brightest hope which lies beyond the rest, and
which is at this moment typified and shadowed
forth by the returning sun and the renewing
year.
We cannot refrain from pausing here, to quote
for our readers a few exquisite and affecting lines
written in the seventeenth century by Henry King,
Bishop of Chichester, to one such beloved remem-
brancer, and in the cheering spirit of that same
precious hope. We fancy they are very little
known.
" Sleep on, my love ! in thy cold bed,
Never to be disquieted !
My last ' good night ! ' thou wilt not wake
Till I thy fate shall overtake ;
Till age, or grief, or sickness must
Marry my body to that dust
It so much loves, and fill the room
My heart keeps empty in thy tomb.
Stay for me there ! I will not faile
To meet thee in that hollow vale :
And think not much of my delay,
I am already on the way,
And follow thee with all the speed
Desire can make, or sorrows breed.
Each minute is a short degree,
And every houre a step tow'rds thee :
NEW YEAR S EVE. 325
At night, when I betake to rest,
Next morn I rise nearer my West
Of life, almost by eight houres' sail,
Than when sleep breathed his drowsy gale ! "
There are in the last volume of poems published
by Mr. Tennyson, some beautiful verses, in which
the natural thoughts that inevitably haunt this sea-
son of change are touchingly expressed, as they
arise even in the young breast of one for whom
"seasons and their change " are immediately about
to be no more. We are in a mood which tempts
us to extract them.
If you 're waking, call me early, call me early, mother dear,
For I would see the sun rise upon the glad New-year
It is the last New-year that I shall ever see,
Then ye may lay me low i' the mould, and think no more of
me.
To-night I saw the sun set : he set and left behind
The good old year, the dear old time, and all my peace of
mind ;
And the New-year 's coming up, mother, but I shall never
see
The may upon the blackthorn, the leaf upon the tree.
Last May we made a crown offlowers : we had a merry day :
Beneath the hawthorn on the green they made me Queen of
May ;
And we danced about the maypole, and in the hazel-copse,
Till Charles's wain came out above the tall white chimney-
tops.
There 's not a flower on all the hills : the frost is on the
pane :
I only wish to live till the snowdrops come again :
326 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
I wish the snow would melt and the sun come out on high
I long to see a flower so before the day I die.
The building rook '11 caw from the windy tall elm-tree,
And the tufted plover pipe along the fallow lea,
And the swallow '11 come back again with summer o'er the
wave,
But I shall lie alone, mother, within the moulde ring grave.
Upon the chancel casement, and upon that grave of mine,
In the early, early morning the summer sun '11 shine,
Before the red cock crows from the farm upon the hill,
When you are warm asleep, mother, and all the world is
still.
When the flowers come again, mother, beneath the waning
light,
Ye '11 never see me more in the long gray fields at night ;
When from the dry dark wold the summer airs blow cool,
On the oat-grass and the sword-grass, and the bulrush in the
pool.
Ye '11 bury me, my mother, just beneath the hawthorn shade,
And ye '11 come sometimes and see me where I am lowly laid,
I shall not forget ye, mother, I shall hear ye when ye pass,
With your feet above my head in the long and pleasant
grass.
I have been wild and wayward, but ye '11 forgive me now :
Ye '11 kiss me, my own mother, upon my cheek and brow ;
Nay, nay, ye must not weep, nor let your grief be wild,
Ye should not fret for me, mother, ye have another child.
If I can, I '11 come again, mother, from out my resting-place
Tho' ye '11 not see me, mother, I shall look upon your face ;
Tho' I cannot speak a word, I shall hearken what ye say,
And be often often with ye when ye think I 'm far away.
NEW YEARS EVE. 327
Good night ! good night ! when I have said good night for
evermore,
And ye see me carried out from the threshold of the door,
Don't let Effie come to see me till my grave be growing
green ;
She '11 be a better child to you than ever I have been.
She '11 find my garden tools upon the granary floor ;
Let her take 'em, they are hers, I shall never garden
more :
But tell her, when I 'm gone, to train the rosebush that I set,
About the parlor window, and the box of mignonette.
Good night, sweet mother ! call me when it begins to dawn :
All night I lie awake, but I fall asleep at morn :
But I would see the sun rise upon the glad New year,
So, if you're waking, call me, call me early, mother dear !
And it is wholesome that the mournful reflections
which the period suggests should be indulged, but
not to the neglect of its more cheerful influences.
The New Year's Eve is in all quarters looked upon
as a time of rejoicing ; and perhaps no night of
this merry season is more universally dedicated to
festivity. Men are for the most part met in groups
to hail the coming year with propitiatory honors ;
and copious libations are poured to its honor, as
if to determine it to look upon us with a benignant
aspect. We generally spend our New Year's Eve
in some such group ; but, we confess, it is not every
class of wassailers that will suit us for the occasion.
The fact is, after all our resolves to work up our
minds to the pitch of gladness, aye, and notwith-
standing our success, too, there are other feelings
328 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
that will intrude in spite of us ; and we like to
find ourselves in a party where their presence is
not looked upon as a marrer of the' revels. When
fitly associated for such a night, we find the very
feelings in question for the most part to harmonize
very delightfully with the predominant spirit of the
time, producing a sort of mixed sensation which is
full of luxury and tenderness. Bye the by, we have
no great wish to have for our companions at any
time those precisians who insist greatly on the ex-
ternal solemnities. " Ye are sae grave, nae doubt
ye 're wise," says Burns. But for ourselves, gentle-
men, our sympathies lie with those who can be
made to understand that the garb of even folly
may by possibility be at times worn by those who
conceal beneath it more sickness of the heart, as
well as more wisdom, than shall ever be dreamt of
in your philosophy, who know, in fact, that that
same folly is sometimes the very saddest thing in
the world ; that the jingle of the cap and bells is
too often but a vain device, like that of the ancient
Corybantes, to drown the " still small " sounds
whose wailing is yet heard over all.
And on the night before us, of all nights in the
year, the smile and the laugh go freely round, but
ever and anon there is, as it were, the echo of a far
sigh. A birth in which we have a mighty interest
is about to take place, but every now and then
comes to the heart the impression of low whisper-
ing and soft treading in the back-ground, as of
NEW YEARS EVE. 329
those who wait about a death-bed. We are in a
state of divided feelings, somewhat resembling his
whose joy at the falling of a rich inheritance is
dashed by tender recollections of the friend by
whose departure it came. Let Mr. Tennyson ex-
plain for us why this is so :
" Full knee-deep lies the winter snow,
And the winter winds are wearily sighing :
Toll ye the church-bell sad and slow,
And tread softly and speak low,
For the old year lies a-dying.
Old year, you must not die.
You came to us so readily,
You lived with us so steadily,
Old year, you shall not die.
" He lieth still : he doth not move :
He will not see the dawn of day.
He hath no other life above.
He gave me a friend, and a true true-love,
And the New-year will take 'em away.
Old year, you must not go.
So long as you have been with us,
Such joy as you have seen with us,
Old year, you shall not go !
" He frothed his bumpers to the brim ;
A jollier year we shall not see.
But tho' his eyes are waxing dim,
And tho' his foes speak ill of him,
He was a friend to me !
Old year, you shall not die.
We did so laugh and cry with you,
I 've half a mind to die with you,
Old year, if you must die.
33 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
" He was full of joke and jest,
But all his merry quips are o'er.
To see him die, across the waste
His son and heir doth ride post-haste,
But he '11 be dead before !
Every one for his own !
The night is starry and cold, my friend,
And the New-year, blithe and bold, my friend,
Comes up to take his own.
" How hard he breathes ! over the snow,
I heard just now the crowing cock.
The shadows flicker to and fro ;
The cricket chirps : the light burns low :
'T is nearly one 1 o'clock.
Shake hands before you die.
Old year, we '11 dearly rue for you.
What is it we can do for you ?
Speak out before you die !
" His face is growing sharp and thin.
Alack ! our friend is gone !
Close up his eyes : tie up his chin :
Step from the corpse, and let him in
That standeth there alone,
And waiteth at the door.
There 's a new foot on the floor, my friend,
And a new face at the door, my friend,
A new face at the door ! "
Occasionally, too, there will come a thought
across us, in these hours, which cannot be made to
harmonize with the feelings we are seeking to en-
courage, and has the unpleasing effect of a discord.
1 (Twelve?)
NEW YEAR'S EVE. 331
It is felt at times, for instance, to be a sort of in-
decency that we should be looking out merrily for
the New Year, when the old one is perishing by our
side, and, for an instant, the heart's joyous issues
are thrown back upon it. And then, again, the
looker forward to hail the " coming guest " will
suddenly fix his eyes upon the veil which shrouds
that face ; and the chill of a moment will creep
over his heart, as he speculates on what it may con-
ceal, or, gazing on the sealed book which the New
Year carries in his hand, asks himself how many of
those who sit with him on this night about the so-
cial table, may have their names written in its last
page ! Thoughts like these, however, are instantly
treated like informers, and ducked, as they deserve
to be, in the wassail-bowl.
But, in any case, we have never failed to observe
that, as the midnight hour draws near, a hush falls
upon these assemblies ; and when men rise to usher
in the new comer, it is for the most part in silence.
We do not believe that moment is ever a merry
one. The blithe spirits of the night stand still.
The glasses are full, but so is the heart, and the
eye is strained upon the finger of the dial whose
notes are to sound the arrival, as if held there by a
spell. We do not think that any man, of all that
group whom our artist has represented, could turn
his face away from the dial, even by an effort ; and
he who could, would be out of place in any as-
sembly of which we made one, unless we were out
332 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
of place ourselves. The instant the solemn sounds
of the midnight chime have ceased, the bells from a
thousand steeples lift up their merry Voices, but they
never, at that moment, found a true echo in our
hearts ; and the shout which rises from the wassail
table, in answer, has ever seemed to us to want
much of the mirth to which it makes such boister-
ous pretension.
But this oppressive sensation soon passes away ;
and the glad bells of the spirit, like those of the
steeples, ring freely out. When the old year is fairly
withdrawn, when we have ceased to hear the sound
of the falling earth upon its coffin-lid, when the heir
stands absolutely in our presence, and the curtain
which hides his features has begun slowly to rise
(while the gazer on that curtain can discover, as yet,
nothing of the dark things that lie behind, and the
hopes which the New Year brings are seen through
it, by their own light), then does the heart shake
off all that interfered with its hearty enjoyment,
and then "comes in the sweet o' the night ! " We
are, ourselves, of that party in the plate ; and it will
be late, we promise you, before we separate. One
song to the past ! and then, " shall we set about
some revels?" as our old friend, Sir Andrew,
hath it.
" Here 's to the year that's awa !
We '11 drink it, in strong and in sma';
And to each bonny lassie that we dearly loo'd,
In the days o' the year that 's awa !
NEW YEARS EVE. 333
" Here 's to the soldier who bled !
To the sailor who bravely did fa' !
Oh, their fame shall remain, though their spirits are fled,
On the wings o' the year that 's awa !
" Here 's to the friend we can trust,
When the storms of adversity blaw ;
Who can join in our song, and be nearest our heart,
Nor depart, like the year that 's awa ! "
And now are we in the humor, this New Year's
morning, for keeping such vigils as they did in
Illyria; for "were we" too "not born under
Taurus?" No advocates do we mean to be for
those whose zeal in symposiac matters, like that
of Bardolph, " burns in their noses ; " but occasions
there are, and this is one, when we hold it law-
ful to sound the wassail-bowl to some considerable
depth. Like honest Isaak Walton, we love to keep
within the bounds of " such mirth as does not make
friends ashamed to look on one another, next morn-
ing ; " but we feel that we may venture to be a little
intemperate, in the present instance, and yet hold
our heads up, even if we should chance to meet
one of those gentry whom Burns presumes to be
wise, because they "are sae grave." What says
Innocentius ? and he was a Father of the Church ;
Fecundi calif es, quern non fecere disertum ? " " Carry
Master Silence to bed ! " therefore, for we are
about to be talkative, and expect to be answered.
No man need sit with us longer than he likes : but
it is the opening of another year, and we must see
334 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
more of it. We find much virtue in Sir Toby's excel-
lent reasoning, that "not to be abed after midnight
is to be up betimes ; " and have no sympathy for
those who would insist, to-day, with the stolid Sir
Andrew, that " to be up late is to be up late." " A
false conclusion ! " says Sir Toby ; and so say we.
So fill the glasses, once more, from the wassail-bowl,
and let us " rouse the night-owl " in another
" catch ! "
But alas ! it is later than we thought, and the owl
is gone to bed ; for we hear the cry of that other
bird whom Herrick calls " the Bellman of the
night : "
" Hark ! the cock crows, and yon bright star
Tells us the day himself 's not far ;
And see ! where, breaking from the night,
He gilds the eastern hills with light ! "
Honest Master Cotton had evidently been sitting
up all night, himself, when he wrote these lines ;
and being therefore a boon companion, and a true
observer of Christmas proprieties, we will take his
warning, and to bed ourselves. So " a good New
Year to you, my masters ! and many of them ! "
as the bellman (not Herrick's) says, on this
morning.
NEW YEAR'S DAY.
1ST JANUARY.
THE first of January, forming the accomplishment
of the eight days after the birth of Christ, has been
sometimes called the octave of Christmas ; and is
celebrated in our church services as the day of the
Circumcision.
Of this day we have little left to say ; almost
all that belongs to it having been of necessity an-
ticipated in the progress of those remarks which
have brought us up to it. It is a day of universal
congratulation ; and one on which, so far as we may
judge from external signs, a general expansion of
the heart takes place. Even they who have no
hearts to open, or hearts which are not opened by
such ordinary occasions, adopt the phraseology of
those whom all genial hints call into sympathy with
their fellow-creatures ; and the gracious compli-
ments of the season may be heard falling from lips
on which they must surely wither in the very act
of passing. To have your morning's salutation
from a worthy like our friend with the umbrella in
336 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
the plate, must be much the same thing as riding
out into the highway, and getting your New Year's
greeting from a raven by the roadside. Mathews's
undertaker, who used to sing the song of " Merry
I have been, and merry could I be," at his club, to
a tune considerably below a dirge in point of live-
liness, was a brother of the same family.
Of New Year's gifts, which are the distinguishing
feature of this day, we have already said enough,
in pointing out the distinction betwixt them and
Christmas-boxes. They still pass generally from
friend to friend, and between the different mem-
bers of a family ; and are in such cases, very
pleasant remembrancers ; but the practice in an-
cient times had some very objectionable features.
It was formerly customary for the nobles and those
about the court to make presents on this day to
the sovereign ; who, if he were a prince with any-
thing like a princely mind, took care that the returns
which he made in kind should at least balance the
cost to the subject. The custom, however, became
a serious tax when the nobles had to do with a
sovereign of another character ; and in Elizabeth's
day it was an affair of no trifling expense to main-
tain ground as a courtier. The lists of the kind
of gifts which she exacted from all who approached
her (for the necessity of giving, the consequences
of not giving, amounted to an exaction), and the
accounts of the childish eagerness with which she
turned over the wardrobe finery, furnished in great
NEW YEAR'S DAY. 337
abundance as the sort of gift most suited to her
capacity of appreciation, furnish admirable illus-
trations of her mind. She is said to have taken
good care that her returns should leave a very
substantial balance in her own favor. The practice
is stated to have been extinguished in the reign of
George III.
A worse custom still, however, was that of pre-
senting gifts to the Chancellor by suitors in his
court, for the purpose of influencing his judgments.
The abuses of the New-Year's-gift practice have,
however, been cleared away, and have left it what
it now is, a beautiful form for the interchanges
of affection and the expression of friendship.
In Paris, where this day is called the " Jour
d'Etrennes," the practice is of still more universal
observance than with us, and the streets are brilliant
with the displays made in every window of the
articles which are to furnish these tokens of kind-
ness, and with the gay equipages and well-dressed
pedestrians passing in all directions, to be the
bearers of them, and offer the compliments which
are appropriate to the season. The thousand bells
of the city are pealing from its hundred belfries,
filling the air with an indescribable sense of festival,
and would alone set the whole capital in motion
if they were a people that ever sat still. This
singing of a thousand bells is likewise a striking
feature of the day in London ; and no one who
has not heard the mingling voices of these high
338 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
choristers in a metropolis, can form any notion of
the wild and stirring effects produced by the racing
and crossing and mingling of their myriad notes.
It is as if the glad voices of the earth had a chorus
of echoes in the sky ; as if the spirit of its rejoicing
were caught up by "airy tongues," and flung in a
cloud of incense-like music to the gates of heaven.
We need scarcely mention that most of the
other forms in which the mirth of the season ex-
hibits itself, are in demand for this occasion ; and
that among the merry evenings of the Christmas-
tide, not the least merry is that which closes New
Year's Day. To the youngsters of society, that day
and eve have probably been the most trying of all ;
and the strong excitements of a happy spirit drive
the weary head to an earlier pillow than the young
heart of this season at all approves. But his is the
weariness that the sweet sleep of youth so surely
recruits ; and to-morrow shall see him early afoot,
once more engaged in those winter amusements
which are to form his resource till the novelties of
Twelfth-day arrive.
" There will come an eve to a longer day,
That will find thee tired but not of play ;
And thou wilt lean as thou leanest now,
With drooping limbs and an aching brow ;
And wish the shadows would faster creep,
And long to go to thy quiet sleep !
Well were it then if thine aching brow
Were as free from sin and shame as now ! "
Let not a man be seen, here.
Who unurged v/ilLnot cbriok
To the base from the bnr/k.
A health to the King '
Herrick.
TWELFTH DAY AND TWELFTH NIGHT.
6TH JANUARY.
TWELFTH-DAY (so called from its being the
twelfth after Christmas Day) is that on which the
festival of the Epiphany is held. This feast of the
Christian Church was instituted, according to Picart,
in the fourth century, to commemorate the manifes-
tation of our Saviour to the Gentiles ; and the name
Epiphany CE7n.<ai/eia), which signifies an appear-
ance from above, was given to it in allusion to the
star described in Holy writ, as the guide of the
Magi or Wise Men to the cradle of the Blessed
Infant. " In Italy," says Mr. Leigh Hunt, " the
word has been corrupted into Beffania or Beffana,
as in England it used to be called Piffany; and
Beffana in some parts of that country has come
to mean an old fairy or Mother Bunch, whose fig-
ure is carried about the streets, and who rewards
or punishes children at night, by putting sweet-
meats or stones and dirt into a stocking hung up
for the purpose, near the bed's head. The word
' Beffa,' taken from this, familiarly means a trick
or mockery put upon any one ; to such base uses
340 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
may come the most splendid terms ! " But what is
quite as extraordinary as that the primitive significa-
tion of a word not familiarly understood should,
amid the revolutions of centuries, be lost in a dif-
ferent or distorted into an inferior meaning, is the
preservation in popular rites of trivial details,
which, as we have before stated, conclusively iden-
tify many of the practices of our modem Christian
festivals as echoes of ancient pagan observances.
Of this, Twelfth-day presents a remarkable instance.
The more we examine the Saturnalia of the
Romans and compare those revels with the pro-
ceedings of our Twelfth-night, the more satisfied
do we feel of the correctness of Selden's view.
" Christmas," he says, in his " Table Talk," " suc-
ceeds the Saturnalia ; the same time, the same num-
ber of holy-days. Then the master waited upon the
servants, like the Lord of Misrule." There is here
a general likeness to the season of which we treat ;
but, as Mr. Brand further states, the Greeks and
Romans at this period also " drew lots for king-
doms, and like kings exercised their temporary
authority ; " and Mr. Fosbroke mentions that " the
king of Saturnalia was elected by beans," which
identifies our Twelfth-night characters, as well as
our mode of selecting them, with those of the an-
cients. Through so many centuries has chance
decided who should wear a crown ! By the
French Twelfth-day was distinguished as " La Fete
des Rois," a name of course obnoxious to the rev-
TWELFTH DAY AND TWELFTH NIGHT. 341
olutionary fraternity of 1792, who caused such
feast to be declared anti-civic, and replaced it by
' La Fete des Sans-Culottes."
However, before entering upon the important dis-
cussion of the " absolute monarchy " of " the king
of cakes and characters," in which, without any
reference to profane ceremonies, there was suffi-
cient found to offend puritanical ideas, we must be
allowed to mention some customs observed on the
vigil or eve of the feast of the Epiphany. Amongst
these was the practice of wassailing the trees to en-
sure their future fruitfulness, mentioned by Her-
rick :
" Wassail the trees, that they may beare
You many a plum, and many a peare ;
For more or lesse fruits they will bring,
As you do give them wassailing."
The merry bowl which, notwithstanding that it
had been so often drained, was still kept brimming
throughout all the Christmas holidays, was now
when they were drawing to a close actually flowing
over; and the warm heart and jovial spirit of the
season, not content with pledging all those who
could drink in return, proceeded to an excess of
boon-companionship, and after quaffing a wassail-
draft to the health and abundant bearing of some
favorite fruit-tree, poured what remained in the cup
upon the root, as a libation to its strength and vi-
tality. Here, also, we cannot fail to recognize the
rites of classical times lurking in the superstitions
342 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
used in the cider districts of England. A pleasant
custom of this kind is mentioned in the Gentle-
man's Magazine for 1791, as existing in certain
parts of Devonshire. It is there stated that "the
farmer, attended by his workmen with a large
pitcher of cider, goes to the orchard on this even-
ing ; and there, encircling one of the best bearing
trees, they drink the following toast three times :
" Here 's to thee, old apple-tree !
Whence thou mayst bud, and whence thou mayst blow!
And whence thou mayst bear apples enow !
Hats full ! caps full !
Bushel, bushel-sacks full !
And my pockets full too ! Huzza ! "
This done they return to the house, the doors of
which they are sure to find bolted by the females,
who, be the weather what it may, are inexorable to
all entreatries to open them till some one has
guessed at what is on the spit, which is generally
some nice little thing difficult to be hit on, and is
the reward of him who first names it. The doors
are then thrown open ; and the lucky clodpole
receives the titbit as a recompense. Some, it is
added, "are so superstitious as to believe that if
they neglect this custom the trees will bear no
apples that year."
' Health to thee, good apple-tree !
Well to bear, pockets full, hats full,
Pecks full, bushel-bags full,"
TWELFTH DAY AND TWELFTH NIGHT. 343
is another version of the address used on these oc-
casions, preserved by Brand. We find recorded in
one quarter or another a variety of analogous and
other customs observed in different parts of Eng-
land on this vigil ; but our diminishing space will
not permit us to enter upon a description of them.
To illustrate " Twelfth-night," our artist has made
two studies of the scenes it presents in London,
abroad and at home ; and these involve our con-
sideration of the subject, accordingly.
During the entire twelve months there is no such
illumination of pastry-cooks' shops, as on Twelfth-
night. Each sends forth a blaze of light ; and is
filled with glorious cakes, " decorated," to use the
words of Mr. Hone, "with all imaginable images of
thing animate and inanimate. Stars, castles, kings,
cottages, dragons, trees, fish, palaces, cats, dogs,
churches, lions, milkmaids, knights, serpents, and
innumerable other forms, in snow-white confec-
tionery, painted with variegated colors." "This
' paradise of dainty devices,' " he continues, " is
crowded by successive, and successful, desirers of
the seasonable delicacies ; while alternate tappings
of hammers and peals of laughter, from the throng
surrounding the house, excite smiles from the in-
mates." This last observation requires explanation,
for our country readers.
Let all idle gazers, then, in the streets of London
beware of Twelfth-night ! There is then that spirit
of mischievous fun abroad, which, carried on with-
344 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
out the superintending power of a Lord of Misrule,
exhibits itself in transfixing the coat-skirts of the
unconscious stranger to the frame 'of the door or
window, at which he may have paused to stare and
wonder. Once fairly caught, lucky is the wight
who can disengage himself, without finding that, in
the interim, his other skirt has been pinned to the
pelisse or gown of some alarmed damsel, whose
dress is perhaps dragged, at the same moment, in
opposite directions, so that he can neither stand
still nor move, without aiding the work of destruc-
tion. These practical facetiae are the perform-
ances of that class of nondescript lads, " perplex-
ers of Lord Mayors and irritators of the police,"
whose character Mr. Leigh Hunt has as truly drawn
as our artist has depicted their persons : " those
equivocal animal-spirits of the streets, who come
whistling along, you know not whether thief or
errand-boy, sometimes with a bundle and some-
times not. in corduroys, a jacket, and a cap or bit
of hat, with hair sticking through a hole in it. His
vivacity gets him into scrapes in the street ; and he
is not ultra-studious of civility in his answers. If
the man he runs against is not very big, he gives
him abuse for abuse, at once ; if otherwise, he gets
at a convenient distance, and then halloos out, ' Eh,
stupid!' or 'Can't you see before you?' or 'Go
and get your face washed ! ' This last is a favorite
saying of his, out of an instinct referable to his own
visage. He sings ' Hokee-Pokee,' and ' A shiny
TWELFTH DAY AND TWELFTH NIGHT. 345
Night,' varied, occasionally, with an uproarious
' Rise, gentle Moon,' or ' Coming through the Rye.'
On winter evenings, you may hear him indulging
himself, as he goes along, in a singular undulation
of yowl, a sort of gargle, as if a wolf was prac-
tising the rudiments of a shake. This he delights
to do, more particularly in a crowded thorough-
fare, as though determined that his noise should
triumph over every other and show how jolly he is,
and how independent of the ties to good behavior.
If the street is a quiet one, and he has a stick in
his hand (perhaps a hoop-stick), he accompanies
the howl with a run upon the gamut of the iron
rails. He is the nightingale of mud and cold. If
he gets on in life, he will be a pot-boy. At present,
as we said before, we hardly know what he is ;
but his mother thinks herself lucky if he is not
transported."
Of Twelfth-night, at home, when "the whole
island keeps court, nay all Christendom,"
when " all the world are kings and queens, and
everybody is somebody else," a huge cake, the idol
of young hearts, is the presiding genius of the
evening. The account given by Nutt, the editor
of the " Cook and Confectioner's Dictionary," of
the twelfth-cakes and dishes in vogue a. hundred
years ago, proves the nursery rhymes of
" Four and twenty blackbirds baked in a pye,"
who
" When the pye was opened all began to sing,"
346 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
to be no such nonsense as was generally supposed.
He tells us of two great pies, made of coarse paste
and bran, into one of which, after it was baked,
live frogs were introduced, and into the other, live
birds ; which, upon some curious persons lifting up
the covers, would jump and fly about the room,
causing " a surprising and diverting hurly-burly
among the guests." What feeble imitations are the
castles, ships, and animals that now adorn our
Twelfth-night cakes, to the performances of Nutt !
How much, every way, inferior are the specimens
of art produced, even by the renowned author of
the " Italian Confectioner," the illustrious Jarrin !
On the battlements of the castles of former days
were planted " kexes," or pop-guns, charged with
gunpowder, to be fired upon a pastry ship, with
" masts," ropes, we doubt not of spun sugar, " sails,
flags, and streamers." Nor was the naval power of
England lost sight of: for the "kexes" of this
delicious ship were, also, charged with gunpowder,
and, when she was fired upon from the castle, her
guns were able to return the salute. Then, to
take off the smell of the powder, there were egg-
shells, filled with rose-water, for the spectators to
break, "and throw at one another." Nor must a
stag of pastry filled with claret be forgotten ; which,
when wounded, poured forth its blood, free and
sparkling as a ruby, for those whose nerves were
delicate and needed the refreshment of a glass of
wine. Such were the " subtilties," as these jugglings
TWELFTH DAY AND TWELFTH NIGHT. 347
in confectionery are called, which we now behold
represented by the painted figures, " so bad to eat,
but so fine to look at," that adorn our twelfth-
cakes.
" How to eat twelfth-cake," says Hone, " re-
quires no recipe ; but how to provide it, and draw
the characters, on the authority of Rachel Revel's
' Winter Evening Pastimes,' may be acceptable.
First, buy your cake. Then, before your visitors
arrive, buy your characters, each of which should
have a pleasant verse beneath. Next, look at your
invitation list, and count the number of ladies you
expect, and afterwards the number of gentlemen.
Then, take as many female characters as you have
invited ladies, fold them up exactly of the same
size, and number each on the back, taking care to
make the king No. i. and the queen No. 2. Then
prepare and number the gentlemen's characters.
Cause tea and coffee to be handed to your visitors,
as they drop in. When all are assembled, and tea
over, put as many ladies' characters in a reticule as
there are ladies present ; next, put the gentlemen's
characters in a hat. Then call on a gentleman to
carry the reticule to the ladies as they sit ; from
which each lady is to draw one ticket, and to pre-
serve it unopened. Select a lady to bear the hat to
the gentlemen for the same purpose. There will
be one ticket left in the reticule, and another in the
hat, which the lady and gentleman who carried
each is to interchange, as having fallen to each.
348 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
Next, arrange your visitors, according to their num-
bers ; the king No i, the queen No. 2, and so
on. The king is then to recite the verse on his
ticket, then the queen the verse on hers ; and so
the characters are to proceed, in numerical order.
This done, let the cake and refreshments go round ;
and hey ! for merriment ! "
As our contribution towards the merriment of
this evening, we cannot do better than present our
readers with a copy of the following letter, respect-
ing the manufacture of Twelfth-night characters,
which document was handed to us by the artist to
whom it was addressed.
" SIR, As I am given to understand that you are
an artist of celebrity, I will thank you to make me
a hundred and forty-four different characters, for
Twelfth-night, the entire cost not to exceed two shil-
lings and sixpence each, say three plates at two
pounds ten shillings a plate, including the poetry,
which you can, I am told, get plenty of poets to write
for nothing, though I should not mind standing a
trifle, say twopence more, if the verses gave satis-
faction. You will please do your best for me, and,
trusting to your speedy attention to this order, I re-
main your well-wisher and obedient servant, who will
furnish the coppers."
Though we publish this letter, that is no reason
why we should publish the writer's name. It is evi-
dent he was a young hand in the trade, and de-
sirous to rival the graphic and literary talent dis-
TWELFTH DAY AND TWELFTH NIGHT. 349
played in Langley's and Fairburn's characters, of
which we have preserved specimens in our port-
folio. Mr. Sandys speaks rather disparagingly of
the merit of these productions, and this, considering
that gentleman's antiquarian zeal, we must confess,
surprises us. In the copy of Langley's characters
which we possess, the same love of alliteration, upon
which we have already commented as encouraged
in the Court of Misrule, is observable. We have,
for instance, " Bill Bobstay," " Prudence Pumpkin,"
" Percival Palette," "Judy Juniper," " Peter Punch-
eon," Simon Salamander," " Countess Clackett,"
" Leander Lackbrain," " Nelly Nester," " Felicia
Frill," etc.
Where the monarch of the evening and his
queen are not determined by this kind of pictorial
lottery, a bean and a pea are put into the cake ;
and whoever finds them in the pieces taken, he and
she become the king and queen of the evening.
Other matters, such as a small coin, a ring, etc., are
often introduced into Twelfth-night cakes, and give
to the finders characters to be supported for the
evening. In some countries, says Sandys, a coin
was put " instead of the bean, and portions of the
cake assigned to the Virgin Mary and the Three
Kings, which were given to the poor; and if the
bean should happen to be in any of these portions,
the king was then chosen by pulling straws."
The three kings mentioned in the above extract
are those worthies commonly known by the title of
350 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS
the Three Kings of Colen (Cologne), identified by
old legends with the Wise Men of the East, who did
homage to our Saviour on the day of which the
Epiphany is the anniversary celebration. They are
stated to have been Arabians ; and are distinguished
in the traditionary tales of the Early Church by the
names of Melchior, Balthazar, and Gasper. Their
bodies are said to have been finally deposited at
Cologne, after several removals ; and the practice
of electing a king on the evening of the Epiphany
has been, by some, thought to have a reference to
their supposed regal characters. We imagine, how-
ever, it will be sufficiently evident to our readers,
after what we have formerly said, that it is not
necessary for us to seek further than we have al-
ready done for the origin of the Twelfth-night king.
SAINT DISTAFF'S DAY.
7TH JANUARY.
CONCLUSION.
THE day which precedes this is, as we have al-
ready informed our readers, the last of the twelve
days which constitute what is emphatically the
Christmas season ; and with the revelries of
Twelfth-night the general holiday is in strictness
considered to be at an end. As however we found
it necessary to approach the throng of its celebra-
tions with some degree of preparation, to pass
through some of its lighted antechambers, before
we ventured to trust our eyes amid the blaze of the
temple itself, so also we dare not step at once from
its thousand lights into the common air of the every-
day world without a previous subjecting of our
imaginations to the diminished glare of the outer
chambers which lie on this other side. And this
it is the more incumbent on us to do, because the
revellers whose proceedings it is our business to
describe take the same course in returning to the
business of life.
352 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
It is not, as we have said, to be expected that
after the full chorus of increased mirth which hath
swelled up anew for the last of these celebrations,
the ear should all at once accustom itself to a sud-
den and utter silence, should endure the abrupt
absence of all festival sound ; nor can all the laugh-
ing spirits of the season who were engaged in added
numbers for the revelries of last night, be got quiet-
ly laid at rest in the course of a single day. One
or other of them is accordingly found lurking
about the corners of our chambers after the cere-
monies for which they were called up are over,
encouraged to the neglect of the order for their
dismissal by the young hearts, who have formed
a merry alliance with the imps which they are by
no means willing to terminate thus suddenly. And
sooth to say, those youngsters are often able to
engage heads who are older, and we suppose
should know better, in the conspiracies which are
day by day formed for the detention of some one
or more of these members of the train of Momus.
Even in rural districts, where the necessary prep-
arations in aid of the returning season are by this
time expected to call men abroad to the labors of
the field, our benevolent ancestors admitted the
claim for a gradual subsiding of the Christmas
mirth in favor of the children of toil. Their de-
vices for letting themselves gently down were rec-
ognized ; and a sort of compromise was sanctioned
between the spirit of the past holiday and the
ST. DISTAFF'S DAY. 353
sense of an important coming duty to be per-
formed. The genius of mirth met the genius of
toil on neutral ground for a single day; and the
two touched hands in recognition of the rightful
dominion of each other, ere they severally set
forth in their own separate directions.
Thus, on the day which followed Twelfth-night,
the implements of labor were prepared and the
team was even yoked for a space ; but the busi-
ness of turning the soil was not required to be
laboriously engaged in until the Monday which
followed, and which therefore bore (and bears) the
title of Plough Monday. After a few hours of
morning labor, a sort of half-holiday was the con-
cluding privilege of this privileged season ; and
the husbandman laid aside his plough, and the
maiden her distaff, to engage in certain revels
which were peculiar to the day and to the country
districts. From the partial resumption of the spin-
ning labors of the women on this morning, the
festival in question takes its name ; and it is (or
was) sometimes called also " Rockday," in honor
of the rock, which is another name for the distaff.
It is described as being " a distaff held in the hand,
from whence wool is spun by twirling a ball below."
Of the sports by which this day was enlivened
we doubt if there are any remains. These seem
to have consisted in the burning, by the men who
had returned from the field, of the flax and tow
belonging to the women, as a sort of assertion of
2 3
354 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
the supremacy of the spirit of fun over his laborious
rival for this one day more, and a challenge into
his court ; and this challenge was answered by the
maidens, and the mischief retorted, by sluicing the
clowns with pails of water. It was, in fact, a merry
contest between these two elements of water and of
fire ; and may be looked upon as typical of that
more matter-of-fact extinction which was about to
be finally given to the lights of the season when
the sports of this day should be concluded. Of
these merry proceedings our artist has given a
very lively representation ; and Herrick's poem on
the subject, which we must quote from the " Hes-
perides," includes all that is known of the ancient
observances of St. Distaff's day.
" Partly work and partly play,
You must on S. Distaff's day ;
From the plough soone free your teame,
Then come home and fother them,
If the maides a spinning goe,
Burne the flax, and fire the tow ;
Bring in pailes of water then,
Let the maides bewash the men :
Give S. Distaff e all the right,
Then bid Christmas sport good-night :
And next morrow, every one
To his own vocation."
ST. DISTAFF'S DAY. 355
OUR REVELS NOW ARE ENDED ; and our Christ-
mas prince must abdicate. In flinging down his
wand of misrule, we trust there is no reason why
he should, like Prospero, when his charms were
over and he broke his staff, drown this, his book,
"deeper than did ever plummet sound." The
spells which it contains are, we believe, all inno-
cent ; and, we trust, it may survive to furnish the
directions for many a future scheme of Christmas
happiness.
And now Father Christmas has at length de-
parted, but not till the youngsters had got
from the merry old man his last bon-bon. The
school-boy, too, has clung to the skirts of the
patriarch's coat, and followed him as far as he
could. And farther had he gone, but for a clear
and undoubted vision of a dark object, which has
been looming suspiciously through the gloom, for
some weeks past. He first caught a glimpse of it,
on stepping out from amongst the lights of Twelfth-
night ; but he turned his head resolutely away,
and has since looked as little in that direction as
he could. But there is no evading it now ! There
it stands, right in his way, plain and distinct and
portentous ! the gloomy portal of this merry sea-
son, on whose face is inscribed, in characters
which there is no mystifying, its own appropriate
and unbeloved name, BLACK MONDAY !
And, behold ! at the gloomy gate a hackney
coach ! (more like a mourning coach ! ) Black
356 THE BOOK OF CHRISTMAS.
Monday, visible in all its appointments, and black
Friday, looking blacker than ever, this black Mon-
day, frowning from its foot-board !
And lo ! through its windows, just caught in the
distance, the last nutter of the coat-tails of old
Father Christmas !
OUR REVELS ARE, indeed, ENDED !
THE END.
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